Part 3
The characteristic feature of the Academic Festival Overture is the successive introduction of several German student melodies, not in the form of a potpourri, as it has been unjustly regarded, but as themes developed with consummate art, expressing the inspiration of a solemn festival, of loyalty to the fatherland, of merrymaking and youthful exultation. Every page shows the hand of a superior master. Still greater is the tragic overture, its spirit reflecting a heroic struggle, gloom, solemnity, but also hope and comfort; its form being particularly interesting by an ingenious combination of the working out and recapitulation into a sort of free, yet coherent, wonderfully constructed and deeply impressive fantasia.
How much we should like to speak in detail of the two concertos for violin and for violin and ’cello! It would be a misnomer to call them symphonies with obligato solo parts, notwithstanding the very elaborate orchestral score, but more incorrect to compare them with any virtuoso concertos. Enormous technical difficulties are to be conquered in the service of high musical purposes. The arrangement is after the classic model, in three movements. Of these the slow movements with their melodic breadth are the more enjoyable, while the extensive outer movements, with their rich development of peculiarly fine and original themes, require repeated hearings to reveal all their innate beauty and greatness. And these works, too, belong to the future and can afford to await their time for a general appreciation.
Brahms’ earlier chorus works are an Ave Maria for female chorus and orchestra, a funeral chant with wind instruments, four female choruses with harp and two horns, seven Marianan songs, a setting of the 23d Psalm for female chorus and organ, several motets and part songs for four, five or six voices, sacred songs, and twelve romances for female chorus, partly with piano accompaniment. Now and then we are reminded of the style of Palestrina or old German folk-songs, then again of Bach’s polyphonic art with fugues, simple and double canons, yet throughout of a new, peculiar mode of expression, full of poetic sentiment. Among the works of later years we mention two motets, which are praised as Brahms’ highest achievements in polyphonic writing, seven songs for mixed voices, and many arrangements of old German folk-songs.
The German Requiem is of such great importance, that without a knowledge of it neither a full estimation of Brahms’ individual genius nor of the significance of the latest epoch of music in general can be obtained. Taking from the old Latin funeral mass only the name, Brahms selected certain verses from the Bible, expressing not only the sadness and terror of death and judgment, but also hope and consolation,—even thankfulness and praise. His work, independent of any church service and to be sung in a living language, contains in each note music which came from the depth of a noble soul and was written by a master of the highest and most complicated field of vocal composition. Entirely free from conventionalities or dry learning, each of the seven numbers gives completely what his genius was able to accomplish. It is indeed the great funeral chant of modern music, at least for Germans and Protestants. Choruses I., IV., V. and VII. have a quiet character, finely expressing the milder feelings above mentioned, yet with all their seeming simplicity showing a consummate art in the details of their construction, No. V. being mainly given to a difficult soprano solo. No. II. (“Behold all flesh is as the grass”) is a peculiar funeral march in three-four time, the chorus singing partly in unison to strange and impressive orchestral music; after a touching animato (“Be patient unto the coming of Christ”) the principal melody is repeated, followed by a long fugue (“The redeemed of the Lord shall return again”). No. III. opens with a baritone solo, lamenting the frailty of life, soon joined by the chorus, rising to a climax expressive of hope. Then follows that famous fugue, in an astonishingly rich polyphonic treatment, moving over an uninterrupted, much criticised pedal point on D to emphasize the words, that “the righteous souls are in the hand of God.” No. VI. is regarded as the culmination of the work. After the chorus’ lament that “Here on earth we have no continuing place,” comfort is brought by the baritone voice unfolding the mystery of the resurrection. The chorus repeat this and burst out in an ecstatic vivace, “The trumpet shall sound, the dead shall be raised!...” “... Grave, where is thy victory, death, where is thy sting?” In wonderful modulations climax after climax is reached; finally in glorious C major a double fugue is added, a hymn of praise to “the Lord of honor and might,” whose proportion, art and impressiveness alone suffice to make Brahms a compeer of the greatest masters of polyphonic music. Throughout, chorus, orchestra and soloists have to overcome the greatest difficulties, but seldom are their efforts directed to more ideal purposes.
[Illustration:
JOHANNES BRAHMS.
From a photograph from life by Fr. Luckhardt, Vienna. ]
For the “Song of Triumph” Brahms selected some mysterious verses from the Apocalypse. Of the three large numbers for double chorus, orchestra and organ, some portions have been called direct imitations of Handel; yet even there one finds enough of Brahms’ individuality and throughout an intense heartiness and directness of feeling. In singing this music, one is overwhelmed by its grandeur. The second number, more purely Brahms’, is of particular beauty, the chorus “Let us rejoice” being joined by a cantus firmus of the wood instruments on the choral “Now, thank ye all the Lord!” In No. III., opened by a baritone solo, an enthusiasm is reached in the Hallelujah surpassing any jubilant chorus music written since the Ninth Symphony.
The “Deutsche Fest-und Gedenksprüche” have a uniform patriotic purpose. There are again three large and most difficult numbers for double chorus, without solo or accompaniment. No. I. refers to the battle of Leipsic in 1813 and the regained liberty from the Napoleonic bondage (“Our fathers hoped in thee, thou helpedst them,” etc.), and has an imposing character of resolution and vigor. No. II., referring to the collapse of the French in 1870, illustrates in lively contrasting colors “a palace guarded by one strongly armed and remaining in peace” and “an empire that falls in discord and becomes waste.” No. III. praises the splendor of the new united empire, but warns its people “to beware and guard thy soul well, that it shall never forget the story which thine eyes have seen.” A deeply religious spirit also pervades this great and but little known work.
The Rhapsody for alto solo, male chorus and orchestra treats a portion of Goethe’s “Journey through the Hartz in Winter.” Once in 1777 the poet left a hunting party to pay an incognito visit to a young admirer of his genius, who was in a Wertherish despondent condition of mind. The impression received by this adventure gave rise to one of his deepest yet somewhat mysterious poems, which inspired Brahms to one of his greatest works. The opening orchestral sounds touch our inmost heart; sighs and the anguish of a trembling soul is their spirit; then the solo voice in tones of intense feeling asks for comfort for one “who from the fullness of love drank hate of man and in loneliness devours all that hath worth in him.” A peculiar combination of three-two and six-four time illustrates finely this anguish and restlessness. Gradually the music becomes more quiet, till with a harp-like accompaniment, chorus and soloist sing a hymn of indescribable beauty and loftiness, imploring “the all-loving Father to enlighten the heart of the unfortunate, if but one tone from his psalter can reach His ears.” The solo part requires a truly inspired musician, whose voice is the instrument of his soul. The short chorus is also a difficult task. Many times has the writer heard this heavenly work, but never without its repetition being demanded and given. Yet how little known it is in this country!
An extensive work for male chorus with tenor solo and orchestra is the cantata “Rinaldo,” the text being again from Goethe. It deals with a romantic story from Tasso’s “Jerusalem Delivered,” has partly a solemn,
## partly a lively dramatic character and breathes the refreshing air of
the sea. The more or less extensive and elaborate choruses are very different from the conventional style, the solo part is unusually difficult and so exacting that an adequate performance is seldom secured.
In three works Brahms has illustrated the relentlessness of Fate, selecting poems of almost Greek grandeur and beauty. Hölderlin’s “Song of Destiny” contrasts the blessed abode of the divine spirits with the fate of the “restless, grief-laden mortals, who blindly wander from one sad hour to another.” Schiller’s “Nänie” mourns “that even the Beautiful fades and the Highest must die,” and “The Song of the Fates,” from Goethe’s “Iphigenia,” warns the human race “to fear the gods, doubly those whom they have exalted, for they turn from entire races the light of their eyes.” The last work is for six, the others for four chorus voices. Everywhere the orchestra is important, rich in weird, characteristic effects. Bold modulations and rhythmic combinations always in keeping with the composer’s high conception of the poetry affect deeply ear and heart. Who but Brahms could have found music so worthy of such profound poetical subjects! In the “Song of Destiny” he even surpasses the poet by repeating at the end the wonderful orchestral introduction indicating hope for our own final attainment of the abode of the blessed spirits. The “Nänie” is dedicated to the mother of the lamented painter Feuerbach, who had been a true art companion of Brahms. Only a careful, sympathetic rendering will reveal the beauty of this work. In the “Song of the Fates” there is a movement of a quiet, melodious character, which many critics have declared to be entirely contrary to the meaning of the text. To us it seems more like a well justified, touching expression of pious submission, wonderfully calming our excitement for the mysterious ending with its harmonies and orchestral sounds never heard before.
Brighter is the character of some works belonging to a field which Schumann had specially cultivated, yet where Brahms shows again such originality that he has been much imitated. His delightful vocal quartets with piano accompaniment, graceful and bright or deep and gloomy, charm greatly by their artistic construction, beauty of thought, feeling and sound and peculiarity of colors. Still more famous are the two collections of Love-Song Waltzes for voices and piano for four hands, resembling the sparkling pianoforte waltzes Op. 39, most varying in shape and mood, the words being mainly from Daumer’s “Polydora,” those of the fine, quiet closing movement in nine-four time being selected from Goethe. The eleven Gipsy Songs Op. 102 are also meeting with an enthusiastic reception, Hungarian spirit and rhythm giving them a peculiar color, the moods being either humorous or passionate, melancholy or exuberant, quartets alternating with solos, the accompaniment being as elaborate as it is effective.
Of the twenty highly remarkable duets some have, in spite of many harmonic and rhythmic finesses, quite a plain character, while others are very elaborate, the voices either joining or alternating. As
## particularly typical we mention “The Seas,” “The Nun and the Knight,”
“The Sisters,” “The Messengers of Love,” “Edward,” and “Let us wander.”
Finally we have reached the field in which Brahms has been especially fertile and original, his “Lieder.” To speak of them only in a general way is difficult indeed. Thirty-one of the published 115 works contain nearly 200 songs. Throughout his whole career Brahms has been writing songs; there was in his soul a lyric element, kindled again and again by the beauty of feeling, thought and diction of the great German poets, and he found a style of song-writing so independent, that in spite of some more or less striking exceptions one can hardly trace his relation to Schubert, Schumann and Franz. He is their equal as regards wealth of invention, noble conception of the text, finishing of details. Yet in treatment of the voice, relation between vocal and instrumental part, and construction of the latter he opens a new path. In the selection of poems he shows eminent knowledge and taste. Many half-forgotten poems of a superior order he has awakened to fresh life; others, which on account of their peculiar metre or meaning have been avoided, have found in him an unexpectedly effective interpreter. However, it seems to us as if the poems often suffer transformation. They have inspired the composer with certain tone-pictures, which in turn impose upon them very distinctly the spirit of his own strong individuality. This individuality is by no means always deep and heavy, for smiles and dancing are no strangers to it. Often the melodies are as plain as folk-songs, but always of great nobility. With a few notes the composer reaches our hearts and lifts us at once into a higher region. Other melodies again are as elaborate as a dramatic scene. The accompaniment, inexhaustible in forms, yet never conventional, simple or with great harmonic wealth and peculiar figuration, rivals the singer in expressing the moods of the poem. Of the so-called folk-songs (old German, Swiss, Bohemian, Scotch, Italian, etc.) some are treated most artistically, others with a touching simplicity. Very few poems composed by other masters are found among his list, and the favorite poets Heine, Eichendorff, Chamisso are almost avoided. A remarkable exception is the separately published “Moon-night,” very different from Schumann’s jewel song, yet not inferior. Goethe, Hölty, Platen, Tieck, Schenkendorf, Groth and Möricke are fully represented, often by poems of an antique spirit and form. Keller, Daumer, Heyse, Schack, Herder and many others inspired Brahms too, and it is noteworthy that he had no music for meaningless trivialities. The majority of these songs are devoted to love in all possible phases and moods, often wonderfully reflected in scenes of nature. There is perhaps more of twilight and autumn than of sunshine and spring, but exultant and happy moods are well represented,—also flowers, birds, woods, oceans and storms and the stillness of the fields,—but all these more in a symbolic than realistic conception and with a wonderful coloring of the prevailing mood. The sweet little “Cradle song,” “Erinnerung,” “Minnelied,” “Wie bist du, meine Königin?” “Meine Liebe ist grün,” “Von ewiger Liebe,” “Ruhe, Süssliebchen,” “Mainacht,” “Vergebliches Ständchen” are only a few familiar jewels among the rich collection; how many more deserve the same sympathy and study from singers with noble artistic ambitions! Special mention is due to the two fine songs for alto with viola obligato Op. 91 and to the fifteen romances from Tieck’s half-forgotten fairy tale “Die schöne Magelone,” which have a most elaborate form and an intensely emotional character. Nowhere indeed can one get a better estimate of Brahms’ high significance as a song writer than here, where the poet appears like a dwarf in the light of the composer’s higher genius.
Greatness indeed remains Brahms’ characteristic feature, wherever we look at him or at his works; greatness in ideas, purposes and powers; greatness in self-criticism and faithfulness to the dignity of his art; greatness in the devotion to past masters and independence of contemporary influences; greatness in the sincerity and simplicity of his manners and relation to the outer world. Never appearing as a revolutionary spirit, yet he has himself introduced many strong innovations in various fields, and for a long time his works will not only afford profound enjoyment to earnest lovers of our art, but be a source of the most valuable studies for those to whom its further development will be entrusted. Long has he been ignored, patiently has he waited, till the world has come to him to respect in him the noblest musical genius of our time.
[Illustration:
Louis Keeserborn ]
[Illustration:
CARL GOLDMARK
_Reproduction of a photograph from life, made by J. Löwy in Vienna._ ]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CARL GOLDMARK
The date of the birth of Carl Goldmark, the eminent Austrian composer, is incorrectly given in the various biographical dictionaries to which the writer has had access. For correct information on this point and for the facts contained in the following sketch of the musician’s life, thanks are due to Leopold Goldmark, his brother. Carl Goldmark was born at Keszthely, Hungary, May 18, 1830. He came by his musical inclinations naturally, for his father, Ruben Goldmark, was a precentor, much esteemed on account of his fine voice. The son showed a fondness for music at an early age and when very young began to take lessons on the violin at the Musikverein of Oedenburg. His progress was such that at the age of twelve his father permitted him to play in public. Soon afterward he began to play professionally in theatre orchestras. He continued to do so until the revolution of 1848, when he was obliged to go into service in the army under the _landsturm_ law.
When his term of service had come to an end he went to Vienna, where, with the assistance of his eldest brother, Dr. Joseph Goldmark, he resumed his studies, becoming a pupil in the Böhm Conservatorium. Unfortunately for the young man, Dr. Goldmark had been an active
## participant in the insurrection and was suspected of implication in the
killing of Minister of War, La Tour. He was compelled to leave Austria and came to America, where he died in 1863. His flight threw Carl on his own resources, and the young musician succeeded in obtaining an engagement in the theatre orchestra at Raab, Hungary. Toward the end of 1850, however, he returned to Vienna, where he secured employment in the orchestra of the Theatre in the Josefstadt.
Young Goldmark at this time showed very plainly of what sort of material he was made. His salary amounted to about $8 a month, but his ambition was worth hundreds. He was consumed by a desire to learn to play the piano, but he could not afford to pay a teacher. He managed, however, to hire an instrument, and began to study by himself with occasional hints from friends. Returning late from the theatre to his humble lodgings, he would spend half the night in practising by the light of a tallow candle. It may as well be said here that he became sufficiently proficient as a pianist to give lessons in later years, and he also taught himself the art of singing with such success that he became the instructor of Mme. Bettelheim, a contralto who attained prominence on the Austrian stage. With the exception of his violin lessons and a short course in composition at the Vienna Conservatory under Sechter, self-instruction was all the teaching enjoyed by young Goldmark. He studied assiduously the scores of Mozart, Weber and Beethoven, and attended the Helmesberger chamber music concerts in Vienna, thus gaining a valuable acquaintance with the instrumental works of the best masters. Goldmark was, however, not only a student of music. He made himself conversant with the German, French, Italian and English Languages. He also became a devoted student of philosophy, and learned to look up to Schopenhauer with a truly Wagnerian admiration. In 1850 he became a contributor to the _Grenzboten_ and to some of the Leipsic musical papers. His writings have always shown evidence of his wide culture.
It was in 1855 that he began to compose, and in 1857 he gave a concert of his own works at the Vienna Musikverein-Halle. The compositions presented were an overture, a piano quartet, a ballad for tenor, chorus and orchestra, and two songs. He was at that period of his career a devoted follower of Mendelssohn, and the works played at his concert were in that master’s style. Goldmark’s fondness for his early offspring was short-lived and the works were not published. He outlived his Mendelssohnian devotion and subsequently became a fervent admirer of Schumann, whose influence is clearly discernible in some of his later works.
The composer’s first decided success was the overture to “Sakuntala,” opus 13, written in 1864, and now known favorably all over Europe and in this country. In 1865, while walking in one of the principal streets of Vienna, he saw a picture of the Queen of Sheba visiting Solomon. The picture made a vivid impression on his imagination, and at length he went to H. S. Mosenthal, the well known dramatist, author of “Leah, the Forsaken,” and begged him to undertake the task of constructing a libretto out of the story which had grown up in the composer’s mind. In three years the opera was finished in its first shape, but Goldmark was dissatisfied with it. Mosenthal made the desired changes in the book, and about one-half of the score was rewritten, the work being finished early in 1872. Goldmark then submitted it to Joseph Herbeck, conductor of the court opera at Vienna. It is believed that Herbeck was jealous of Goldmark, because the latter had defeated him in a competition for a Government prize of 800 gulden. At any rate Herbeck kept the score of “The Queen of Sheba” locked up for two years. Finally, at a musicale given by the Princess Hohenlohe, whose husband was master of ceremonies to the Emperor, Ignatz Brüll, then a rising young pianist, played some selections from Goldmark’s opera. The Princess and others, pleased by the music, asked Brüll some questions about the work, and the story of Herbeck’s delay over the score came out. The influence of the Princess and the Countess Andrassy led to an imperial command for the production of the opera, and it was accordingly performed on March 10, 1875. The success of the opera was great and the composer was called out nearly forty times. “The Queen of Sheba” has been given in various European cities, and was first performed in America at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, on Wednesday, Dec. 2, 1885, with the following cast: Sulamith, Frau Lilli Lehman; the Queen, Frau Krämer-Wiedl; Astaroth, Fräulein Marianne Brandt; Solomon, Herr Robinson; Assad, Herr Stritt; Baal Hanan, Herr Alexi; High Priest, Herr Fischer. The conductor was Anton Seidl. It was the most successful opera in the repertory of the house that season, being presented fifteen times, to aggregate receipts of $60,000. It was given four times the following season, and again five times in the season of 1889–90, always to audiences of good size.
His second opera, “Merlin,” was produced in Vienna Nov. 19, 1886, and at the Metropolitan Opera House Jan. 3, 1887, with the following cast: Viviane, Lilli Lehmann; Morgana, Brandt; Artus, Robinson; Modred, Kemlitz; Gawein, Heinrich; Lancelot, Basch; Merlin, Alvary; Dämon, Fischer. The conductor was Walter Damrosch. It was performed five times in the course of the season, but did not achieve the success of its predecessor. While waiting for the production of “The Queen of Sheba,” Goldmark wrote his B flat quartet and his suite for piano and violin.
Goldmark has devoted his life to composition. He takes no pupils and has refused not only all orders and distinctions, but all offers of posts as conductor. The only office he has ever held—and that but briefly—is the presidency of the Vienna Tonkünstlerverein. His home is in Vienna, but about May 1st of every year he goes to Gmunden, on the Traunsee in upper Austria. There he remains till October, working incessantly except during four weeks in midsummer. He then takes a vacation, going to the Fusch valley, near Salzburg, where he spends six to eight hours a day in mountain climbing. All his composing is done at Gmunden. He is a widower and has a daughter twenty years of age.