PART III. REUNITING IN DEATH

_Allegro_

This, as has been said, is the only portion of the symphony which is explicitly derived from Bürger's poem. I quote Mr. George P. Upton's spirited commentary: "It opens with a plaintive theme ... suggestive of Lenore mourning for her lover as she wakes from troubled dreams. Then follows an intimation of her fate in a brief phrase for the trombones. The Trio[120] of the march tells the story of her despair, for the army has returned without her lover. Her blasphemy and the remonstrances of her mother are clearly indicated. The recurrence of the first theme lands up to a rhythmical figure for the viola, representing the tramp of the steed bearing the spectre bridegroom. The bell tinkles softly, and Lenore descends to meet her lover. Then the 'cellos take up the figure, retaining it to the close. The terrible ride begins. The bassoons and oboes carry on the dialogue between the spectre and his bride. One after another the constantly intensified and impetuous music pictures the scenes of the ride, the 'cellos and other strings keeping up their figure. A gloomy dirge tells us of the funeral train, and a weird theme in triple time of the spectres' dance about the gibbet, accompanied by wild cries of the night birds. More and more furious grows the ride until the graveyard is reached, when, after a moment of silence following the transformation, a chorale strain is heard, with a sad and tender accompaniment. The wretched maiden has at last found rest."

FOOTNOTES:

[115] Only eleven of the twelve are known to-day. A five-movement symphony in E minor, composed at Weimar in 1854, performed at a concert there on April 20, 1855, is not listed among Raff's works; the work remained unpublished, and the manuscript score is not extant.

[116] There is no end to the variety in which the legend of the Wild Hunt is preserved. Its best-known incarnation is to be found in the ballad of Gottfried August Bürger, _Der Wilde Jäger_, paraphrased by Scott in his "Wild Huntsman." See pages 106-7 for a description of César Franck's tone-poem, _Le Chasseur Maudit_ ("The Wild Huntsman"), based on this legend.

[117] "Dame Hulda," or "Holda," or _Frau Holle_: a goddess who was at first benign, then a seductress of men, later the sovereign temptress of the "Venusberg" (the _Venus_ of Wagner's "Tannhäuser"). "She became," says the inimitable Mr. Hale, "a wanton in league with Satan. She was still beautiful in front, but had a tail behind, as the master whom she served; 'to go with Holle' was to join a witch party; and at last she was an ugly old woman, long-nosed, snag-toothed, with bristling, thickly matted hair. All children that die unbaptized go to Holda, and they shriek behind her when she rides, clothed and in a coach, in company with the Wild Huntsman and Wotan."

[118] Gottfried August Bürger, born at Wolmerswende, near Halberstadt, January 1, 1748; died at Göttingen, in poverty, June 8, 1794. "Lenore" was published in 1773.

[119] This and the following translations are from the English version of Alfred Baskerville (New York, 1854).

[120] "Trio": see page 210 (foot-note).

RIMSKY-KORSAKOFF

(_Nicolas Andrejevitch Rimsky-Korsakoff: born in Tikhvin, in the government of Novgorod, Russia, March 18,[121] 1844; now living in St. Petersburg_)

"SADKO," A MUSICAL PICTURE: Op. 5

Rimsky-Korsakoff, who as a young man served as an officer in the Russian navy, has in his music shown a peculiar aptitude for delineating the moods and aspects of the sea. "Sadko," composed in 1867, and sometimes spoken of as "the first Russian symphonic poem," is music of the sea. It has this programme, which is prefaced to the score:

"The ship bearing Sadko [a hero of Russian legend, or, according to some, a historical character], a famous gusli[122] player, is becalmed on the high sea. He is thrown overboard by his fellow-travellers as a propitiatory offering to the Sea King, who receives him in his domain, while the ship sails on. There is a great company beneath the waves, for the Sea King is celebrating the wedding of his daughter to the Ocean. He compels Sadko to play on his _gusli_, and they all dance to the music. Spectres appear; the dance grows wilder and wilder; stormier and stormier are the billows. Sadko breaks the strings of his instrument; an end is put to the dancing, the sea grows calmer, and it is soon dark and still in the ocean depths."[123]

In the music there is first (_Moderato assai_) a suggestion of the quiet sea, the becalmed ship. Following that, the picturesque intent of the music, heard in the light of the programme, is easily followed.

"ANTAR," SYMPHONY No. 2: Op. 15

1. _Largo_ _Allegro vivace_ 2. _Allegro_ 3. _Allegro risoluto alla Marcia_ 4. _Allegretto vivace_ _Andante amoroso_

Antar was a famous Arabian warrior-poet of pre-Mohammedan times. He lived in the sixth century, and his eloquence and inspiration as a poet were so revered that one of his poems, inscribed upon deerskin, was hung up among the idols in the Kaaba[124] at Mecca for the adoration of worshippers. Rimsky-Korsakoff's symphony (first performed at Magdeburg in 1881) is based on a tale by Sennkowsky of which Antar is the hero. Its substance is condensed in the following note, in French and German, prefaced to the score:

I [_Largo; allegro vivace_]

"Awful is the view of the desert of Sham;[125] mighty in their desolation are the ruins of Palmyra, the city raised by the spirits of darkness. But Antar, the man of the desert, braves them, and dwells serenely in the midst of the scenes of destruction. Antar has forever forsaken the company of mankind. He has sworn eternal hatred on account of the evil they returned him for the good which he intended.

"Suddenly a charming, graceful gazelle[126] appears. Antar starts to pursue it. But a great noise seems pulsing through the heavens, and the light of day is veiled by a dense shadow. It is a giant bird that is giving chase to the gazelle.

"Antar straightway changes his intent, and attacks the monster, which gives a piercing cry and flies away. The gazelle disappears at the same time, and Antar, left alone in the midst of the ruins, soon goes to sleep while meditating on the event that has happened.

"He sees himself transported to a splendid palace, where a multitude of slaves hasten to serve him and to charm his ear with their song. It is the abode of the Queen of Palmyra--the fairy Gul-nazar. The gazelle that he has saved from the talons of the spirit of darkness is none other than the fairy herself. In gratitude Gul-nazar promises Antar the three great joys of life, and, when he assents to the proffered gift, the vision vanishes, and he awakes amid the surrounding ruins."

II [_Allegro_]

"The first joy granted by the Queen of Palmyra to Antar is the delight of vengeance."

III [_Allegro risoluto alla Marcia_] "The second joy--the delight of power."

IV [_Allegretto vivace; andante amoroso_]

"Antar has returned to the fallen remains of Palmyra. The third and last gift granted by the fairy to Antar is the joy of true love. Antar begs the fairy to take away his life as soon as she perceives the least estrangement on his side, and she promises to do his desire.

"After a long time of mutual bliss, the fairy perceives one day that Antar is absent in spirit, and is gazing into the distance. Straightway divining the reason, she passionately embraces him. The fire of her love inflames Antar, and his heart is consumed away.

"Their lips meet in a last kiss, and Antar dies in the arms of the fairy."[127]

The grave theme for violas and wood-wind which is heard in the opening _Largo_, and which recurs throughout the symphony, has been called the "Antar" motive; while the graceful motive for flute and accompanying horns in the succeeding _Allegro_ section has been said to characterize the transformed gazelle--the miraculously potent fairy queen through whose love Antar finally meets his end.

César Cui, to whom the score is dedicated, has thus commented on the music:

"First Part: Antar is in the desert--he saves a gazelle from a beast of prey. The gazelle is a fay, who rewards her deliverer by granting him three pleasures. The whole of this part, which begins and ends with a picture of the desolate and boundless desert, is worthy of the composer's magic brush.

"Second Part: The pleasure of Vengeance--a rugged, savage, unbridled _Allegro_, with crescendos like the letting loose of furious winds.

"Third Part: The Pleasure of Power--an Oriental march. A masterpiece of the finest and most brilliant interpretation.

"Last Part: The Pleasure of Love, amid which Antar expires--a delicate, poetic, delicious _Andante_...."

And Alfred Bruneau speaks of the music's striking depiction of the three primal human passions: "These sentiments, passing severally through diverse measures, tonalities, and rhythms, over which hovers insistently the parent-phrase of Antar, are the faithful reflections of our tormented, vague, and mysterious souls."

"SCHEHERAZADE," SYMPHONIC SUITE AFTER "A THOUSAND NIGHTS AND A NIGHT": Op. 35

Prefixed to the score of this suite (published in 1889) is the following programme, printed in French and Russian:

"The Sultan Schahriar, convinced of the faithlessness of women, had sworn to put to death each of his wives after the first night. But the Sultana Scheherazade saved her life by diverting him with stories which she told him during a thousand and one nights. The Sultan, conquered by his curiosity, put off from day to day the execution of his wife, and at last renounced entirely his bloody vow.

"Many wonders were narrated to Schahriar by the Sultana Scheherazade. For her stories the Sultana borrowed the verses of poets and the words of folk-songs, and she fitted together tales and adventures.

"1. The Sea and Sindbad's Ship. 2. The Tale of the Kalendar-Prince. 3. The Young Prince and the Young Princess. 4. Festival at Bagdad. The Sea. The Ship is Wrecked on a Rock Surmounted by a Bronze Warrior. Conclusion."

There is doubt as to Rimsky-Korsakoff's precise intention in the programme of this suite. Which one of Sindbad's voyages is described, which of the three Kalendars is referred to, and what adventure of what young prince and princess, the composer leaves to his hearers to decide. Moreover, the event mentioned in the last number of the suite--the wrecking of the ship upon a rock surmounted by a warrior of brass (not "bronze")--occurs in the story of the third Kalendar, while the wreck of Sindbad's ship occurred under different circumstances. The truth seems to be that Rimsky-Korsakoff has aimed at translating into music the spirit and atmosphere which unifies the various stories, and has not troubled himself about the accuracy or the consistency of his paraphrase. Like Scheherazade herself, he has strung together, without regard for continuity or coherence, whatever incidents and fragments suited his purpose. Thus his music is to be taken as a gloss on the tales as a whole--on their general and underlying mood, their color, their imaginative essence.

I. THE SEA AND SINDBAD'S SHIP

The first theme of this movement, heard at the opening, has been identified both as the motive of the Sea and of Sindbad. Later we hear (solo violin, with harp chords) the motive of Scheherazade. An undulating _arpeggio_ figure has been called the Wave motive, and a theme first sung by the solo flute that of the Ship. The Sea motive forms a climax of the full orchestra. There is a tranquil close.

II. THE TALE OF THE KALENDAR-PRINCE

After an introductory passage, we hear the Scheherazade theme on a solo violin with harp accompaniment, followed by a theme, _quasi recitando_, for solo bassoon, which seems here to have the rôle of narrator. There is an intermezzo of Oriental character. The end is spirited.

III. THE YOUNG PRINCE AND THE YOUNG PRINCESS

"Some think from the similarity of the two themes typical of prince and princess that the composer had in mind the adventures of Kamar al-Zaman (Moon of the age) and the Princess Budur (Full moon)." This movement is idyllic, a romanza evolved out of two themes of folk-song character.

IV. FESTIVAL AT BAGDAD. THE SEA. THE SHIP IS WRECKED ON A ROCK SURMOUNTED BY A BRONZE WARRIOR

The motive of the Sea begins the movement; the Scheherazade theme follows; then (_Allegro molto e frenetico_) begins a brilliant depiction of the revels at Bagdad. Then, abruptly, we are transferred to a scene on shipboard. "We seem to plunge into the broad movement of the surging sea, straight on to the fateful event." While the jollification is at its height the ship strikes the dreadful rock. "The trombones roar out the Sea motive against the billowy Wave motive in the strings.... The storm dies.... There is a quiet ending with development on the Sea and Wave motives. The tales are told. Scheherazade, the narrator, who lived with Shahriar 'in all pleasance and solace of life and its delights till there took them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies, the Desolater of dwelling-places and the Garnerer of graveyards, and they were translated to the ruth of Almighty Allah,' fades away with the vision and the final note of her violin."

"A NIGHT ON MOUNT TRIGLAV": THIRD ACT OF THE OPERA-BALLET "MLADA" (CONCERT ARRANGEMENT FOR ORCHESTRA)[128]

In 1872 Rimsky-Korsakoff, César Cui, Modest Moussorgsky, and Alexander Borodine (who, with Mily Balakireff, were the famous coterie who founded the "neo-Russian" school forty years ago)[129] wrote each the music of an act to an opera libretto by Gedeonoff, their chief of the Imperial Theatres, who had ordered the work. This composite opera was never produced, but Rimsky-Korsakoff made use of his share of the music for the third act of his opera-ballet "Mlada" (produced in 1893). The composer afterwards made a concert arrangement of the music of this act, and it was performed at Moscow in 1903, under the direction of Wassily Safonoff.

The score of the work in its purely orchestral form is prefaced by a descriptive programme, of which the following is a translation:

"The stage is covered with thick clouds. Darkness. The clouds disperse little by little, and finally disappear completely. Falling stars. A clear, moonless night. A gorge on Mount Triglav. Souls of the dead approach floating, and begin a fantastic round (_Kolo_). The full moon, which rises, lights up the gorge; in its rays appears the wraith of the princess Mlada, making signs to Jaromir to follow her. Lightly she glides above the rocks and precipices. Jaromir follows her. The shades interrupt the _Kolo_. Jaromir, in a wild burst of passion, seeks to approach Mlada, who disappears. Jaromir pursues her. The moon grows red. Subterranean thunder. Seized with terror, the shades of the dead disappear. Night birds wing their way across the stage. Evil spirits issue from all the caverns and crevasses--demons, spectres, and sorcerers come forth, and serpents and toads crawl out. Revels and dances of the spirits of darkness. From the midst of the infernal round, Chernobog arises, in the form of a black stag, with his followers. He evokes the souls of Jaromir and of Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt. Impenetrable darkness. The stage is transformed into a splendid Egyptian hall. Queen Cleopatra is reclining upon a sumptuous couch of purple, surrounded by dancing-girls and slaves. Dances of the slaves, the dancing-girls, and Cleopatra. She seeks passionately to draw Jaromir towards her; the soul of the latter grows animated; the wraith of Mlada hides its face in its hands and weeps. A cock crows. Suddenly everything vanishes. Deep night; a peal of underground thunder. Quiet. The clouds successively disperse. First gleam of dawn. The wooded slope of Mount Triglav. Jaromir is sleeping. Nature awakes; the leaves rustle and the birds twitter. A ray of the rising sun falls on Jaromir. Full daylight."

SUITE, "CHRISTMAS EVE"

TABLEAU 1. INTRODUCTION: CHRISTMAS EVE TABLEAU 2. IN SPACE TABLEAU 3. BRILLIANT BALL IN THE IMPERIAL PALACE TABLEAU 4. NIGHT, IN SPACE

Rimsky-Korsakoff composed, in 1895, an opera, "Christmas Eve," based on a story by Gogol.[130] It was produced at St. Petersburg December 10, 1895. Excerpts from it were afterwards made into a suite by the composer. Mr. H. E. Krehbiel has paraphrased Gogol's tale, as it has been utilized by Rimsky-Korsakoff, with a clearness and concision which could not well be bettered:

"[The story] is concerned with one of the adventures of the hero, a young, handsome, herculean, and stout-hearted blacksmith named Wakula, in an effort to win the hand of a wilful and capricious damsel named Oxana. She commands him to bring her the _tscherewitschki_ (embroidered slippers, or little shoes) of the Empress Catherine the Great. To understand how he achieved this feat it is necessary to relate that his mother, Ssoloka, is a mistress of the magic arts, and also a buxom dame, who counts among her four lovers not only the father of the whimsical Oxana, but the devil himself. One day, the day before Christmas, her four lovers appear at her house in such rapid succession that she is obliged to hide them in sacks, one after another, to prevent discovery of the numerous rivalry. In her haste two are put into one sack. She has just disposed of the last when Wakula comes home, and to him she gives the sacks (as containing so much coal) to carry away to various destinations. Wakula shoulders the three sacks at once and is off. After depositing two of them in the street, he discovers that he has trapped the devil in the third, and under threat of baptizement unless he consents, compels his satanic majesty to transport him instanter to St. Petersburg, and help him get the empress's slippers. Here the suite begins, and, since most of it is of the descriptive order, the rest of the tale may best be told with hints intended to identify the scenes with the music.

"TABLEAU I. INTRODUCTION: CHRISTMAS EVE

"The scene pictures Dikanka, a village in Little Russia, on a clear, cold night (_Adagio_).

"TABLEAU II. IN SPACE

"The stars group themselves upon the clouds (_Andante_). The stars engage in games and dances (Ballet). Mazurka, _Allegro assai_.... A procession of comets (_Adagio_). A round dance, revolution of the constellations about the pole (_Andante non troppo_). A shower of meteors ( ... _Allegro_). Clouds descend and hide the stars. A wizard rides into view, seated in a kettle, which he drives with an oven-fork; after him, a rout of wizards, in pots, kettles and bowls, carrying forks, frying-pans, tongs, and pokers; witches astride of brooms. Dance of the witches. Wakula rushes by upon the devil, in the shape of a winged horse; wizards and witches skurry after him (_Allegro assai_, with a dactyllic figure to suggest the infernal ride). The lights of St. Petersburg are seen (_Moderato_).

"TABLEAU III. BRILLIANT BALL IN THE IMPERIAL PALACE

"(Polonaise, _Allegro non troppo, alla Polacca_.) The devil enters with Wakula (the dactyllic figure is resumed). Darkness comes over the scene.

"TABLEAU IV. NIGHT, IN SPACE

"Glimpses of the setting moon are had through rifts in the clouds (_Andante_). Flying through the clouds, a multitude of empty pots and kettles, brooms, forks, and other kitchen utensils (_Allegro_). Wakula dashes past, in the opposite direction, upon his devil-horse (_Allegro assai_). The clouds disperse and vanish. The moon sets, and the morning star (Venus) appears (_Moderato_). Dawn. Kolyada, in a golden sledge, and Ovsen, on a boar with golden bristles, appear with a train of light elves who hymn them (_Andante_). Kolyada is an ancient Slavic sun goddess. In an old ceremony she used to be represented by a maiden, clad in white robes, who was driven from house to house in the yuletide, while _kolyadki_ (_i.e._, Kolyada songs) were sung by the youths and maidens who attended her, and received gifts from the people in return for their songs. The sun rises through the frosty mists, and Dikanka becomes visible. Wakula is returned with the shoes in time for early mass. The bells of the village church are heard, and the people singing the pious Christmas canticle."

FOOTNOTES:

[121] Some authorities give May 22d.

[122] "Gusli": an instrument peculiar to the Russian people. "Originally it had a small, flat sounding-box, with a maple-wood cover, and strung with seven strings."

[123] The translation is by Mr. Philip Hale.

[124] El Kaaba (or, more properly, Al, or Ul Kaaba), the sacred shrine of the Islamites at Mecca, is said by tradition to have been created by God out of cloud and mist at the beginning of the world. Adam gave it a more substantial form, building it of stones and rock. It was rebuilt by Noah after the flood; destroyed in war, and erected again by Ishmael and Abraham. It was built in its present form by Moslem caliphs in the eighth century. Before the days of Mohammed it was the shrine of some six hundred idols, among which were six examples of supreme poetic eloquence. It was to these that Antar's poem was added.

[125] The desert that lies to the east of Damascus.

[126] The gazelle figures with curious persistence in Arabic poetry, especially as a symbol, even as a standard, of feminine grace and beauty.

[127] Translated by Mr. P. H. Goepp.

[128] Without opus number.

[129] This was the group of iconoclastic and restless young composers who, at St. Petersburg, set forth, under the banner of "nationalism," to open new paths for Russian music, and by whom Tschaikowsky was cast into outer darkness as being too "eclectic," too little "national," in his art.

[130] Nicolas Gogol (1809-1852), a prolific and popular Russian novelist. Tschaikowsky compared him with Dickens: "He [Dickens] has the same inimitable and innate humor, and the same masterly power of depicting an entire character in a few strokes. But he has not Gogol's depth."

SAINT-SAËNS

(_Camille Saint-Saëns: born in Paris, October 9, 1835; still living there_)

"OMPHALE'S SPINNING-WHEEL," SYMPHONIC POEM No. 1: Op. 31

_Le Rouet d'Omphale_, composed in 1871, was first a piano piece; it was afterwards made over for orchestra and performed in Paris at a _Concert Populaire_ on April 14, 1872.

The following note, in French, prefaces the score:

"The subject of this symphonic poem is feminine seductiveness, the triumphant contest of weakness against strength. The spinning-wheel is merely a pretext; it is chosen simply for the sake of its rhythmical suggestion and from the viewpoint of the general form of the piece."

The note conveys the further slightly ironical information that "those who are interested in the study of details will see on page 19 (letter J) [of the score] Hercules groaning in the bonds which he cannot break [a laboring phrase in the 'cellos and double-basses, repeated with cumulative expression], and on page 32 (letter L) Omphale mocking the hero's futile efforts [a theme sung by the oboe]."

The music has been interpreted as falling naturally into the three following sections: "(1) The power of feminine allurement. Triumphant struggle of weakness against strength; in fact, Omphale's fascination of Hercules. (2) Hercules in bondage; or, as the author has it, 'Hercules groaning under the bonds which he cannot break.' (3) Omphale deriding the vain efforts of the hero."

"PHAËTON," SYMPHONIC POEM No. 2: Op. 39

_Phaëton_ was produced in Paris, under Eduard Colonne, at a concert at the _Théâtre du Châtelet_, December 7, 1873. The score has this preface:

"Phaëton has obtained leave to drive his father's, the Sun's, chariot through the heavens. But his unskilful hands lead the steeds astray. The flaming chariot, thrown out of its course, approaches the terrestrial regions. The whole universe is about to perish in flames, when Jupiter strikes the rash Phaëton with his thunderbolt."[131]

The portentous drive is first pictured, the gallop of the horses being indicated by an imitative figure in the strings, wood-wind, and horns. A suave and noble theme for the horns has been said to suggest celestial visions glimpsed by the charioteer in the course of his daring flight.[132] The furious rhythm of the drive is heard again, increasing to a precipitate pace. It is cut short by the Jovian thunderbolt (kettle-drums, bass-drum, cymbals, tam-tam). Then, as its reverberations die away, we hear again the august harmonies of the second theme; there is a reminiscence of the opening motive (of the ride), and the music ends _ppp_.

"DANCE OF DEATH" ["DANSE MACABRE"], SYMPHONIC POEM No. 3: Op. 40

This symphonic poem illustrates a fantastic poem by Henri Cazalis, lines from which are prefixed to the score. They are as follows (in a prose translation made by Mr. W. F. Apthorp):

"Zig and Zig and Zig, Death plays in cadence, Beating time with his heel upon a tombstone; Death plays a dance-tune, Zig and Zig and Zig, on his fiddle. The winter wind blows, and the night is dark; Groans come from under the lindens; White skeletons flit across the gloom, Running and skipping in their capacious shrouds. Zig and Zig and Zig, capers every one; You hear the dancers' bones rattle.

* * * * *

"But whist! Of a sudden they quit their dance; They rush off helter-skelter, the cock has crowed."

* * * * *

A violin solo impersonates Death the fiddler, while the rattling of the bones of the grewsome dancers is delineated by the xylophone (wood-harmonica). The uncanny dance increases in wildness and abandon until it is cut short by the cock-crow (oboe).

"THE YOUTH OF HERCULES," SYMPHONIC POEM No. 4: Op. 50

_La Jeunesse d'Hercule_, first performed in Paris, at a concert in the _Théâtre du Châtelet_, January 28, 1877, bears as a preface to the score the following note (in French):

"LEGEND

"Mythology relates that Hercules, upon entering life, saw two paths opening before him, the path of pleasure and the path of virtue.

"Indifferent to the seductions of Nymphs and Bacchantes, the hero chooses the path of struggles and combats, at the end of which he perceives, through the flames of the funeral pyre, the reward of immortality."

The music has been interpreted as a succession of characterizations in this order: "(1) Irresolution [_Andante sostenuto_: muted[133] violins; wood-wind, strings, and wood]; (2) character of the path of virtue [_Allegro moderato_: strings, without mutes, in full harmony]; (3) seductiveness of the nymphs [_Andantino_]; (4) allurements of the Bacchantes [_Allegro_: flutes at first, later other wood-wind, strings and wood, full orchestra]; (5) renewed questionings [_Adagio_: strings, horns, wood-wind]; (6) choice of the path of virtue and consequent struggles [_Andante sostenuto_ and _Allegro animato_: the theme of Virtue played by clarinet, afterwards by oboe; later, the theme of pleasure heard in the wood-wind against harp arpeggios]; (7) the funeral pyre and immortality beyond [_Maestoso_: triumphant supremacy of the theme of Virtue, in an orchestral apotheosis]."

FOOTNOTES:

[131] Translated by Mr. W. F. Apthorp.

[132] This theme has also been said to represent "nymphs bemoaning Phaëton's danger, and, at last, his death."

[133] See page 12 (foot-note).

SCHUMANN

(_Robert Schumann: born in Zwickau, Saxony, June 8, 1810; died in Endenich, near Bonn, July 29, 1856_)

SYMPHONY No. 1, IN B-FLAT MAJOR ["SPRING"]: Op. 38

1. _Andante un poco maestoso; Allegro molto vivace_ 2. _Larghetto_ 3. _Scherzo: Molto vivace_ 4. _Finale: Allegro animato e grazioso_

Although Schumann never publicly avowed it, the inspiration for this symphony sprang from a poem by Adolph Böttger (1815-1870), _O Geist der Wolke_. The music was composed early in 1841. In October of the following year Schumann sent a portrait of himself to his friend Böttger, accompanied by an inscription consisting of the opening phrase of the symphony in notation, and the words: "Beginning of a symphony inspired by a poem of Adolph Böttger. To the poet, in remembrance of Robert Schumann."

The verses of Böttger have been translated (in prose) as follows:

"Thou Spirit of the Cloud, murky and heavy, fliest with menace over land and sea; thy gray veil covers in a moment the clear eye of heaven; thy mist seethes up from afar, and Night hides the Star of Love. Thou Spirit of the Cloud, murky and damp, how thou hast frightened away all my happiness, how thou dost call tears to my face and shadows into the light of my soul! O turn, O turn thy course--In the valley blooms the spring!"

The crux of this poem, and the key to an understanding of the mood of Schumann's music, lies in the concluding line:

"In the valley blooms the spring!"

("_Im Thale blüht der Frühling auf!_")

Schumann himself spoke of this work as "a Spring symphony," though it is not so titled on the score. In a letter to Spohr he wrote (November 23, 1842): "I composed the symphony ..., if I may say so, under the impulse of that vernal ardor which sways men even at the most advanced age, and seizes them anew each year. I did not aim to portray or to describe; but I do believe that the season in which the symphony was conceived influenced its character and its form and made it what it is." He wrote also, on January 10, 1843, to Wilhelm Taubert (who was to produce the symphony in Berlin): "Could you imbue your orchestra with something of the springtime mood, which I had particularly in mind when I wrote the symphony in February, 1841? The trumpet-call at the entrance I should like to have sound as if it came from on high like an awakening summons. By what follows I might then suggest how on every side it begins to grow green; how, perhaps, a butterfly appears; and, by the Allegro, how gradually all springtime things burst forth. These, it is true, are fancies which occurred to me after I had finished the work. I should like to say, however, concerning the last movement, that I imagined it to suggest the departure of spring, and I would have it played in a manner not too frivolous." It will be observed that Schumann makes no reference whatever in these elucidations to what he has elsewhere alleged as the particular source of his inspiration.

That the composer originally intended to give descriptive titles to the different movements has been declared with particularity, and these are said to have been the superscriptions he planned to use: (1) "Spring's Beginning" (_Frühlingsbeginn_); (2) "Evening" (_Abend_); (3) "Merry Companions" (_Frohe Gespielen_); (4) "Spring at the Full" (_Voller Frühling_). The last of these would seem to conflict with what Schumann himself wrote to Taubert concerning the Finale.

OVERTURE TO BYRON'S "MANFRED": Op. 115

For Byron's dramatic poem, "Manfred," Schumann, in 1848, wrote incidental music, which was first performed at Weimar under the direction of Liszt on June 13, 1852, in connection with a version of Byron's work prepared by Schumann for the stage. The overture has, not unnaturally, survived the rest of the music to the poem, and has long been a familiar number in the concert-room. It is, of all Schumann's works, says Mr. H. E. Krehbiel, "the most profoundly introspective. It is, as consistently as the prelude to Wagner's 'Tristan und Isolde,' an effort to delineate soul states and struggles without the help of external things. To understand it one must recall the figure in Byron's poem--the strong man torn by remorse, struggling with himself, bending supernatural powers to his will, yearning for forgiveness and death, tortured by a pitiless conscience, living in a solitude which was solitude no more, 'but peopled with the furies,' condemned by his own sin to number

'Ages--ages-- Space and eternity--and consciousness, With the fierce thirst of death--and still unslaked!'

"The mood of the slow introduction, into which the listener is plunged at once by the three syncopated chords at the opening, is the mood of Manfred weighed down by the reflection:

"'Old man! there is no power in holy men, Nor charm in prayer--nor purifying form Of penitence--nor outward look--nor fast-- Nor agony--nor, greater than all these, "The innate tortures of that deep despair, Which is remorse without the fear of hell, But all in all sufficient to itself Would make a hell of heaven--can exorcise From out the unbounded spirit, the quick sense Of its own sins, wrongs, sufferance, and revenge Upon itself; there is no future pang Can deal that justice on the self-condemn'd He deals on his own soul.'"

"The sombreness," says Mr. Frederick Niecks, "is nowhere relieved, although contrast to the dark brooding and the surging agitation of despair is obtained by the tender, longing, regretful recollection of Astarte, the destroyed beloved one. And when at last life ebbs away, we are reminded of Manfred's dying words to the Abbot:

"'Tis over--my dull eyes can fix thee not; But all things swim around me, and the earth Heaves, as it were, beneath me.... Old man! 'tis not so difficult to die.'

"From the first note to the last," says Mr. W. H. Hadow, "it is as magnificent as an Alpine storm--sombre, wild, impetuous, echoing from peak to peak with the shock of thunderbolts and the clamor of the driving wind."

SIBELIUS

(_Jan Sibelius: born in Tavastehus, Finland, December 8, 1865; now living in Helsingfors_)

"LEMMINKAINEN," SYMPHONIC POEM IN FOUR PARTS: Op. 22

"THE SWAN OF TUONELA" "LEMMINKAINEN'S HOME-FARING"

Sibelius, sometime prior to February, 1906, informed Mrs. Rosa Newmarch, the author of the first authoritative study in English of the Finnish composer, that he was writing a symphonic poem in four parts under the general title "Lemminkainen," based on episodes in "The Kalevala."[134]

Two of these parts have been produced--"The Swan of Tuonela" and "Lemminkainen's Home-Faring"; the others are said to be still (1907) incomplete. Of the two completed portions Mrs. Newmarch writes as follows:

"THE SWAN OF TUONELA

"Tuonela was the name of the Finnish Hades. Those wending their way to the final abode had to traverse nine seas and one river--the equivalent of the Styx--whereon sang and floated the sacred swan--

"'... the long-necked, graceful swimmer, Swimming in the black death-river, In the sacred stream and whirlpool.'

"The majestic, but intensely sad, swan melody is heard as a solo for _cor anglais_ [English horn], accompanied at first by muted[135] strings and the soft roll of drums. Now and then this melody is answered by a phrase given to 'cello or viola, which might be interpreted as the farewell sigh of some soul passing to Tuonela. For many bars the brass is silent, until suddenly the first horn (muted[136]) echoes a few notes of the swan-melody with the most poignant effect. Gradually the music works up to a great climax, ... followed by a treble _pianissimo_, the strings playing with the back of the bow. To this accompaniment, which suggests the faint-flapping pinions, the swan's final phrases are sung. The strings return to the natural bowing, and the work ends in one of the characteristic, sighing phrases for 'cello.

"LEMMINKAINEN'S HOME-FARING

"It was in pursuit of the Swan of Tuonela that Lemminkainen, the reckless magician-hero of 'The Kalevala,' lost his life. The capture of the sacred bird was the last test of his courage and devotion before he could win the bride of his heart. But Nasshut, the crippled shepherd, who bore a grudge against Lemminkainen, watched for his approach, hurled at him a serpent snatched from the death-stream, and flung him, mortally wounded, into the 'coal-black waters':

"'There the blood-stained son of death-land There Tuoni's son and hero Cuts in pieces Lemminkainen.'

"The Finnish hero shares the fate of Osiris. But the fifteenth rune relates how his aged and faithful mother implores 'the immortal blacksmith' Ilmarinen to forge her a huge rake:

"'Lemminkainen's faithful mother Rakes the river of Tuoni,

* * * * *

"To her belt in mud and water Deeper, deeper rakes the death-stream, Rakes the river's deepest caverns.'

"By untiring perseverance she recovers all the missing members, knits them together by her incantations, and finally restores her son to life. When his thoughts revert to the woman he loves, for whose sake he has accomplished a series of heroic exploits, his mother persuades him in these words:

"'Let the swan swim on in safety In the whirlpool of Tuoni. Leave the maiden in the Northland With her charms and fading beauty With thy fond and faithful mother Go at once to Kalevala To thy native fields and fallows.'[137]

"Then the hero, consoled by the maternal love, which inflicts no sting and exacts no useless sacrifices, starts on his homeward way."

FOOTNOTES:

[134] Elias Lönnrot, the Finnish scholar, issued the "Kalevala" ("a word which signifies the dwelling of the heroes, 'sons of Kaleva'--the Walhalla of Scandinavian mythology"), the result of his researches and labors among the national folklore of the Finns, in 1835. "The 'Kalevala' depicts the ancient Finnish people as a race of free barbarians endowed with many noble qualities, whose religion was a mild nature-worship, demanding no blood sacrifices. The primitive inhabitants of Finland--or Suomi, as it is still called in the vernacular--believed that all objects in nature were inhabited and ruled by invisible deities. They had more faith in the _word_ than in the _sword_; therefore the bard and the rune-singer--he who possessed _the word of origin_--was more honored by them than the warrior, the shedder of blood. For them the word of origin lay concealed in the heart of nature. This tendency to seek mind in the visible world is also characteristic of all the literature and art of modern Finland. It has been transmitted to a whole series of poets, whether, like Runeberg, Franzen, and the elder Topelius, they sang in Swedish, or adopted the Finnish idiom with Lönnrot and his successors. To this imaginative people the making of songs was a part of existence--almost a primal instinct. Of the three principal personages of 'The Kalevala,' Vainamoinen, the Finnish Orpheus, stands out as the ideal hero of the race. Profound wisdom and the power of magic song are his special attributes."--ROSA NEWMARCH.

[135] See page 12 (foot-note).

[136] See page 75 (foot-note).

[137] This and the preceding verse translations are from the English version of "The Kalevala" by John Martin Crawford.

SMETANA

(_Friedrich Smetana: born in Leitomischl, Bohemia, March 2, 1824; died in Prague, May 12, 1884_)

"MY FATHERLAND," A CYCLE OF SIX SYMPHONIC POEMS[138]

Smetana, an ardent nationalist and incorrigible patriot, composed for the glorification of his country a cycle of six symphonic poems under the general title, "My Fatherland" (_Má Vlast_), dedicated to the city of Prague. The titles and the programmes (in outline) of the six parts of the cycle are as follows:

I. "VYSEHRAD" [1874]

A famous and historic Bohemian citadel at Prague. The splendid life there in its past day of glory and renown. The poet, at the sight of the fortress, beholds visions of the past. "Vysehrad rises up before his eyes in its former glory, crowned with gold-decked shrines and the edifices of the Premslide princes and kings, rich in warlike renown. The brave knights assemble in the castle courts, to the sound of cymbals and trumpets, for the festal tourney; here are drawn up beneath the reflected rays of the sun rows of warriors in rich, glittering armor, ready for victorious contests.... Whilst contemplating the past glory of the sublime dwelling of princes, the poet sees also its downfall. Unchained passion overthrows the mighty towers in bitter strife, lays waste the glorious sanctuaries and proud, princely halls. Instead of inspiring songs and jubilant hymns, Vysehrad is become dumb, a deserted monument of past glory; from its ruins resounds the echo of the long-silent song of the singer-prince Lumir through the mournful stillness!"[139]

II. "VLTAVA" [1874]

The river Moldau--the scenes through which the course of the beloved river leads--beauties of nature, historic edifices, deeds and achievements of men, apparitions of nymphs and naiads.

III. "SÁRKA" [1875]

Sárka, the "noblest of the Bohemian Amazons," was betrayed in love by one of the hated race of men against whom the Amazons wage ceaseless war. Craving vengeance, she has herself bound to a tree, and, in simulation of distress, impels the knight Ctirad, who is swayed by her beauty, to release her. Ctirad and his warrior band, striking camp for the night, fall asleep after long-continued revels. Sárka then summons her companions by a blast of her horn; they fall furiously upon the sleeping warriors and put them to the sword.

IV. "FROM BOHEMIA'S FIELDS AND GROVES" [1875]

A tonal celebration of natural beauties; music of pastoral character.

V. "TABOR" [1878]

The fortress of the Hussites.--A sonorous tribute to the Taborites, their valor, and their heroic devotion to their cause.

VI. "BLANIK" [1879]

The name of the mountain on which are sleeping in glorious death the Hussite warriors, awaiting the resurrection which will restore them to renewed service for the faith.

FOOTNOTES:

[138] Without opus number.

[139] Translated by Mr. W. F. Apthorp.

SPOHR

(_Louis Spohr: born in Braunschweig, Germany, April 5, 1784; died in Cassel, November 22, 1859_)

SYMPHONY No. 4, "THE CONSECRATION OF SOUND":[140] Op. 86

1. RIGID SILENCE OF NATURE BEFORE THE CREATION OF TONE (_Largo_) ACTIVE LIFE AFTER THE SAME. SOUNDS OF NATURE. TURMOIL OF THE ELEMENTS (_Allegro_)

2. CRADLE SONG. DANCE. SERENADE (_Andantino_)

3. WAR MUSIC. GOING OFF TO BATTLE. FEELINGS OF THOSE LEFT BEHIND. RETURN OF THE VICTORS. PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING (_Tempo di marcia_)

4. FUNERAL MUSIC (_Larghetto_) CONSOLATION IN TEARS (_Allegretto_)

_Die Weihe der Töne_, composed in 1832, is founded on a poem of the same title by Karl Pfeiffer. In a letter dated October 9, 1832, Spohr wrote: "I have ... lately completed a grand instrumental composition, a fourth symphony, which differs greatly in form from the preceding ones. It is a musical composition inspired by a poem of Karl Pfeiffer's--_Die Weihe der Töne_--which must be printed or recited aloud before it [the symphony] is performed. In the very first part my task was to construct a harmonious whole out of the sounds of nature. This, as indeed the whole work, was a highly attractive programme [Schumann afterwards described it as 'eulogizing music with music']."

Pfeiffer's poem is as follows, divided in accordance with its relation to the four movements of the symphony:

[I. RIGID SILENCE OF NATURE BEFORE THE CREATION OF TONE: _Largo_. ACTIVE LIFE AFTER THE SAME. SOUNDS OF NATURE. TURMOIL OF THE ELEMENTS: _Allegro_]

"Solitary lay the fields in the flower-splendor of spring; amid the silent forms wandered Man through the night, following only his wild impulse, not the mild footprints of the heart; Love found no tones, Nature no language.

"Then eternal Kindness wished to announce itself, and breathed Sound into the breast of Man! And it let Love find a language that penetrated to its heart and made it happy. The nightingale greets him with tones of love, the forest rustles forth harmonies to him, the Zephyr's murmur fills his breast with longing, the brook's waves whisper him to rest. Then, at the tones' sacred wafting, the spirit, freed from every earthly bond, soars triumphant to the heights of Heaven, and greets the fair fatherland of dreams."

[II. CRADLE SONG. DANCE. SERENADE: _Andantino_]

"Holy tones, sounds of peace from the unknown world! Ye are given to us as faithful companions 'mid life's joy and sternness! At the child's first griefs on its faithful mother's breast, ye already penetrate the little heart, and turn the grief to gladness. Ye also invite all-puissantly to the merry dance of Youth, and the dark cares are hushed when the jubilant dance rings out. The clouds have flown swiftly from the brow, the befogged spirit grows serene, and, borne lightly on sounding billows, the winged foot hovers on its way.

"In the secret husk of night ye sound from the youth's mouth; ye bear tidings of the plenitude of his love to the beloved one. Holy tones! Sounds of love! Your magic power softens the loved heart's sternness, and the youth's complaint is still."

[III. WAR MUSIC. GOING OFF TO BATTLE. FEELINGS OF THOSE LEFT BEHIND. RETURN OF THE VICTORS. PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING: _Tempo di marcia_]

"But ye call also with the power of inspiration to the mêlée of battles, teaching the youth to despise life when the trumpet calls to the fight. Cares and fear and dangers vanish behind the triumphant tones, and the fiery glance darts forward, to bind the brow with bloody laurels.

"But, when ye have begun boldly and wildly with the call to fight and the battle-song, then, when the victory is won, ye beckon backward with gentle sounds of peace. Then ye bear, on the pinions of devotion, the heart aloft to the eternal God, and the victors' joyous chorus teaches us to give thanks to the God of Battles."

[IV. FUNERAL MUSIC: _Larghetto_. CONSOLATION IN TEARS: _Allegretto_]

"Holy tones, your peace still follows the tired one down, when he, parted from the world, has sunk silently into his grave. Ye whisper granting of prayers to the dumb yearning of his loves, and to the tearless ye give tears, to the departed everlasting rest.

"Holy tones, are ye fair dreams from the unknown fatherland? Are ye children of those blessed spaces, sent to us as messengers of peace? O never leave me, sweet tones! May I fancy myself in your home, and not think of the fetters that hold me fast!"[141]

FOOTNOTES:

[140] This is the version of _Die Weihe der Töne_ by which the symphony is generally known in America and England. It has also been called "The Power of Sound." A more precise translation is "The Consecration of Tones." The symphony has this sub-title: "A Characteristic Tone-Painting in the Form of a Symphony, after a Poem by Karl Pfeiffer."

[141] Translated by Mr. W. F. Apthorp.

STRAUSS

(_Richard Strauss: born in Munich, June 11, 1864; now living in Berlin_)

"FROM ITALY," SYMPHONIC FANTASIA: Op. 16

1. ON THE CAMPAGNA (_Andante_)

2. AMID ROME'S RUINS (_Allegro molto con brio_)

3. ON THE SHORE OF SORRENTO (_Andantino_)

4. NEAPOLITAN FOLK-LIFE (_Allegro molto_)

"_Aus Italia_," the first of Strauss's descriptive works for orchestra, was composed in 1886, a year in which the composer visited Rome and Naples. The score is avowedly programmatic, however, only to the extent of the titling of the different movements, except that the second, "Amid Rome's Ruins," bears this additional superscription: "Fantastic Pictures of Vanished Splendor; Feelings of Sadness and Grief in the Midst of the Sunniest Present."

Of the first movement Mr. Vernon Blackburn has remarked: "... the Campagna is absolutely destitute of scenery, its tragic secret lying, for the most part, too deep even for the modern explorer; its 'dim warm weather' is an attribute which exactly describes its general aspect of loneliness and locked quietude. These are the points which Strauss makes apparent in his music, and proves the constancy of that mood in the second portion of his Fantasia, in which he only completes the hidden tragedy of the Campagna--in the section which he has entitled ['Amid Rome's Ruins']."

In the third movement, "On the Shore of Sorrento," Mr. Hermann Kretzschmar finds (in the middle portion) a picture of the sea ruffled by the wind. "A boat appears, and in it a singer sings a genuine native melody, sprung from the noble sicilianos, which since the end of the seventeenth century have passed over Europe, journeying from the region near Sorrento." "The strings," says another commentator, furnish "a rich background for the sparkling flashes of melody which emanate from the other instruments, the whole being suggestive of a water-picture. The almost constant shimmer in the strings might easily be construed as a description of the restlessness of the ocean, over which the melodies of the wood-wind play like the glintings of sunlight."

In the last movement, "Neapolitan Folk-life," the famous song "Funiculi, Funicula," serves as the principal theme, announced by violas and 'cellos. "The finale is brilliant, tumultuous, audacious."

"'My desolation doth begin to make a better life.' Such," remarks Mr. Blackburn, "might have been the motto upon which Strauss has built the labor of this extraordinary work. He makes you feel through every bar how completely his musical spirit is oppressed by a sense of tragic thought which, if anywhere, is surely appropriate in the presence of the wreckage of that huge civilization which reached the zenith of its glory in the genius of Julius Cæsar."

"DON JUAN," TONE-POEM: Op. 20

This work is usually placed first on the list of Strauss's remarkable series of tone-poems; yet, though it bears an earlier opus number, it was actually preceded, in point of composition, by "Macbeth," op. 23, which was written in 1887, a year earlier than "Don Juan."

The subject of this tone-poem is the "Don Juan" of Nicolaus Lenau (1802-1850), and quotations from Lenau's poem are prefixed to the score. They are as follows:

DON JUAN [_to Diego, his brother_]

"O magic realm, illimited, eternal, Of gloried woman--loveliness supernal! Fain would I, in the storm of stressful bliss, Expire upon the last one's lingering kiss! Through every realm, O friend, would wing my flight, Wherever Beauty blooms, kneel down to each, And if for one brief moment, win delight!"

* * * * *

DON JUAN [_to Diego_]

"I flee from surfeit and from rapture's cloy, Keep fresh for Beauty service and employ, Grieving the One, that All I may enjoy. The fragrance from one lip to-day is breath of spring: The dungeon's gloom perchance to-morrow's luck may bring. When with the new love won I sweetly wander, No bliss is ours upfurbish'd and regilded; A different love has This to That one yonder-- Not up from ruins be my temples builded. Yea, Love life is, and ever must be new, Cannot be changed or turned in new direction; It cannot but there expire--here resurrection; And, if 'tis real, it nothing knows of rue! Each Beauty in the world is sole, unique: So must the Love be that would Beauty seek! So long as Youth lives on with pulse afire, Out to the chase! To victories new aspire!"

DON JUAN [_to Marcello, his friend_]

"It was a wond'rous lovely storm that drove me: Now it is o'er; and calm all round, above me; Sheer dead is every wish; all hopes o'ershrouded-- 'Twas p'r'aps a flash from heaven that so descended, Whose deadly stroke left me with powers ended, And all the world, so bright before, o'erclouded; And yet p'r'aps not! Exhausted is the fuel; And on the hearth the cold is fiercely cruel."[142]

Lenau is said to have observed of his creation: "My 'Don Juan' is no hot-blooded man eternally pursuing women. It is the longing in him to find a woman who is to him incarnate womanhood, and to enjoy, in the one, all the women on earth, whom he cannot as individuals possess. Because he does not find her, although he reels from one to another, at last Disgust seizes hold of him, and this Disgust is the Devil that fetches him." Elaborate and inexorably detailed commentaries have been written on Strauss's tone-poem; yet this brief exposition by Mr. Philip Hale is more truly illuminating than are the exhaustive excursions of the German analysts:

"Lenau's hero is a man who seeks the sensual ideal. He is constantly disappointed. He is repeatedly disgusted with himself, men and women, and the world; and when at last he fights a duel with Don Pedro, the avenging son of the Grand Commander, he throws away his sword and lets his adversary kill him.

"'_Mein Todfeind ist in meine Faust gegeben; Doch dies auch langweilt, wie das ganze Leben._'

"('My deadly foe is in my power; but this, too, bores me, as does life itself.')"

Of the tragic end of the Don's insatiable experimenting--as Strauss has turned it into music--he says:

"Till the end the mood grows wilder and wilder. There is no longer time for regret, and soon there will be no time for longing. It is the Carnival, and Don Juan drinks deep of wine and love.... Surrounded by women, overcome by wine, he rages in passion, and at last falls unconscious.... Gradually he comes to his senses, the themes of the apparitions, rhythmically disguised as in fantastic dress, pass like sleep-chasings through his brain, and then there is the motive of 'Disgust.' Some find in the next episode the thought of the cemetery, with Don Juan's reflections and his invitation to the Statue. Here the jaded man finds solace in bitter reflection. At the feast, surrounded by gay company, there is a faint awakening of longing, but he exclaims:

"'The fire of my blood has now burned out.'

"Then comes the duel, with the death scene. The theme of 'Disgust' now dominates. There is a tremendous orchestral crash; there is long and eloquent silence. A _pianissimo_ chord in A minor is cut into by a piercingly dissonant trumpet F, and then there is a last sigh, a mourning dissonance and resolution (trombones) to E minor.

"'Exhausted is the fuel, And on the hearth the cold is fiercely cruel.'"

"MACBETH," TONE-POEM: Op. 23

_Macbeth, Tondichtung für grosses Orchestrer (nach Shakespeare's drama)_, was composed in 1887. It is actually, in date of composition, the first of Strauss's orchestral tone-poems, though "Don Juan" (see the preceding pages), composed in 1888, bears an earlier opus number--20.

Beyond the title and the acknowledgment--"after Shakespeare's drama"--the score bears no programme or explanation save the word "Macbeth" printed over an imperious phrase for violins, horn, and wood-wind near the beginning, and a quotation from the play, in German, placed above a passage on page 11 of the orchestral score, where flutes and clarinets, _pianissimo_, give out, over muted[143] horns and strings tremolo, a phrase whose expression is marked _appassionata, molto rubato_.[144] The quotation is from Lady Macbeth's speech in Act I., Scene V.:

"Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear, And chastise with the valor of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal."

German analysts have been, as in the case of all of Strauss's needlessly and perversely recondite programme-music, at pains to explore the music of "Macbeth," and have written with lavish detail in exposition of its significance. The end of it all appears to be that in this tone-poem Strauss has not attempted to illustrate the external events of Shakespeare's tragedy, but has endeavored to portray the character of its protagonist, Macbeth himself, and the struggle which goes on within his soul.

"DEATH AND TRANSFIGURATION," TONE-POEM: Op. 24

Prefaced to the published score of _Tod und Verklärung_ (composed in 1889) is a poem by the German musician Alexander Ritter,[145] which was written after the author had become acquainted with Strauss's music, and under its inspiration. That the verses were included by Strauss in the printed score is sufficient evidence that he regards them as an adequate interpretation of the emotional plan underlying his music.

The subject of this tone-poem is the human soul at grip with death, fronting imminent dissolution, and reviewing feverishly the memorable phases of its past--childhood, youth, love, conflict, strife, aspiration, despair--interrupted by desperate struggles with the Destroyer. At the moment of death there is the beginning of triumph--"deliverance from the world, transfiguration...."

Ritter's poem, translated into English prose by Mr. W. F. Apthorp, is as follows:

"In the necessitous little room, dimly lighted by only a candle-end, lies the sick man on his bed. But just now he has wrestled despairingly with Death. Now he has sunk exhausted into sleep, and thou hearest only the soft ticking of the clock on the wall in the room, whose awful silence gives a foreboding of the nearness of death. Over the sick man's pale features plays a sad smile. Dreams he, on the boundary of life, of the golden time of childhood?

"But Death does not long grant sleep and dreams to his victim. Cruelly he shakes him awake, and the fight begins afresh. Will to live and power of Death! What frightful wrestling! Neither bears off the victory, and all is silent once more!

"Sunk back tired of battle, sleepless, as in fever-frenzy the sick man now sees his life pass before his inner eye, trait by trait and scene by scene. First the morning red of childhood, shining bright in pure innocence! Then the youth's saucier play-exerting and trying his strength--till he ripens to the man's fight, and now burns with hot lust after the higher prizes of life. The one high purpose that has led him through life was to shape all he saw transfigured into a still more transfigured form. Cold and sneering, the world sets barrier upon barrier in the way of his achievement. If he thinks himself near his goal, a 'Halt!' thunders in his ear. 'Make the barrier thy stirrup! Ever higher and onward go!' And so he pushes forward, so he climbs, desists not from his sacred purpose. What he has ever sought with his heart's deepest yearning, he still seeks in his death-sweat. Seeks--alas! and finds it never. Whether he comprehends it more clearly or that it grows upon him gradually, he can yet never exhaust it, cannot complete it in his spirit. Then clangs the last stroke of Death's iron hammer, breaks the earthly body in twain, covers the eye with the night of death.

"But from the heavenly spaces sounds mightily to greet him what he yearningly sought for here: deliverance from the world, transfiguration of the world."

The music, for purposes of elucidation, may be divided into five (connected) sections:

We see the sick man lying exhausted upon his bed in the little candle-lit room; he has just wrestled wildly with Death. He smiles faintly, dreaming of his youth.

Abruptly, Death renews the attack, and the dreadful struggle is resumed. There is gradual exhaustion, and once more a respite comes to the sufferer.

Now he is visited by dreams and hallucinations--memories of youth, of young manhood and its vicissitudes, of lusty conflict and passionate endeavor, with illusory glimpses of future triumph.

But again Death attacks his victim. There is a short and furious struggle, a sudden subsidence, a mysterious and sinister gong-stroke; a portentous silence signifies the final stilling of the heart.

Then begins, gradually and gravely, the Transfiguration; and through shimmering harps and sonorous chantings of the brass is suggested the final triumphant attainment of the soul released.

"TILL EULENSPIEGEL'S MERRY PRANKS": Op. 28

The full title of this work is: _Till Eulenspiegel's lustige Streiche, nach alter Schelmenweise--in Rondoform--für grosses Orchester gesetzt von Richard Strauss_. Translated according to the most reasonable authority, this means: "Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks, Set in the Old-Fashioned, Roughish Manner--in the Form of a Rondo[146]--for Grand Orchestra, by Richard Strauss." This sufficiently formidable announcement introduced to the world in 1895 (the year of its completion and publication) a work which its author sought, after his usual habit, to imbue with a kind of mystification the point and savor of which it is a little difficult to appreciate. When the "rondo" was produced at Cologne, November 15, 1895, Dr. Franz Wüllner, who conducted the performance, requested Strauss to furnish an explanatory programme of the piece. The composer declined. "It is impossible," he said, "for me to furnish a programme to _Eulenspiegel_; were I to put into words the thoughts which its several incidents suggested to me, they would seldom suffice, and might even give rise to offence.

Let me leave it, therefore, to my hearers to crack the hard nut which the Rogue has prepared for them. By way of helping them to a better understanding, it seems sufficient to point out the two 'Eulenspiegel' motives, which, in the most manifold disguises, moods, and situations, pervade the whole up to the catastrophe, when, after he has been condemned to death, Till is strung up to the gibbet. For the rest, let them guess at the musical joke which a Rogue has offered them." The three motives indicated by Strauss were the opening theme of the introduction, the horn theme that follows almost immediately, and the descending interval that is said to be expressive of condemnation and the scaffold.

Till Eulenspiegel, better known to English readers as Tyll Owlglass, is the prank-playing vagabond hero of a fifteenth-century German _Volksbuch_ whose authorship is attributed to Dr. Thomas Murner (1475-1530). Till, according to Dr. Murner, was born at Kneithlinger, Brunswick, in 1283, and died of the plague at Mölln, near Lubeck, in 1350 or 1353, after wanderings through Germany, Italy, and Poland. Till's exploits, the stories of which are household words in Germany, consisted of mischievous pranks and jests that he practised without discrimination and, in some instances, with a frank and joyous absence of delicate sentiment which can best be described as Rabelaisean. In Murner's tale, Till is sentenced to the gallows, but escapes death at the last moment. Strauss, however, does not let his hero off, and permits him to die on the scaffold.

Despite his disinclination to furnish an elucidation of his music, Strauss has apparently given his sanction to an analysis of the score prepared by Mr. Wilhelm Klatte. As this is full, explicit, and seemingly authoritative, it is quoted here, in part, as follows, in an English translation attributed to Mr. C. A. Barry:

"A strong sense of German folk-feeling pervades the whole work. The source from which the tone-poet drew his inspiration is clearly indicated in the introductory bars: _Gemächlich_ [_Andante commodo_]. To some extent this stands for the 'once upon a time' of the story-books. That what follows is not to be treated in the pleasant and agreeable manner of narrative poetry, but in a more sturdy fashion, is at once made apparent by a characteristic bassoon figure which breaks in upon the _piano_ of the strings. Of equal importance for the development of the piece is the immediately following humorous horn theme. Beginning quietly and gradually becoming more lively, it is at first heard against a tremolo of the divided violins and then again in the first tempo, _Sehr lebhaft_ [_Vivace_]. This theme, or at least the kernel of it, is taken up in turn by oboes, clarinets, violas, 'cellos, and bassoons, and is finally brought by the full orchestra, except trumpets and trombones, after a few bars _crescendo_, to a ... _fortissimo_. The thematic material, according to the main point, has now been fixed upon; the _milieu_ is given by which we are enabled to recognize the pranks and droll tricks which the crafty schemer is about to bring before our eyes, or, far rather, before our ears.

"Here he is (clarinet phrase followed by chord for wind instruments). He wanders through the land as a thorough-going adventurer. His clothes are tattered and torn: a queer, fragmentary version of the 'Eulenspiegel' motive resounds from the horns.... The rogue, putting on his best manners, slyly passes through the gate, and enters a certain city. It is market-day; the women sit at their stalls and prattle (flutes, oboes, and clarinets). Hop! Eulenspiegel springs on his horse (indicated by rapid triplets extending through three measures), gives a smack of his whip, and rides into the midst of the crowd. Clink, clash, clatter! A confused sound of broken pots and pans, and the market-women are put to flight. In haste the rascal rides away (as is admirably illustrated by a _fortissimo_ passage for the trombones) and secures a safe retreat.

"This was his first merry prank; a second follows immediately; _Gemächlich_ [_Andante commodo_]. Eulenspiegel has put on the vestments of a priest, and assumes a very unctuous mien. Though posing as a preacher of morals, the rogue peeps out from the folds of his mantle (the 'Eulenspiegel' motive on the clarinet points to the imposture). He fears for the success of his scheme. A figure played by muted[147] violins, horns, and trumpets makes it plain that he does not feel comfortable in his borrowed plumes. But soon he makes up his mind. Away with all scruples! He tears them off.

"Again the 'Eulenspiegel' theme is brought forward in the previous lively tempo, but is now subtly metamorphosed and chivalrously colored. Eulenspiegel has become a Don Juan, and he waylays pretty women. And one has bewitched him: Eulenspiegel is in love! Hear how now, glowing with love, the violins, clarinets, and flutes sing! But in vain. His advances are received with derision, and he goes away in a rage. How can one treat him so slightingly? Is he not a splendid fellow? Vengeance on the whole human race! He gives vent to his rage (in a _fortissimo_ of horns in unison followed by a pause), and strange personages suddenly draw near ('cellos). A troop of honest, worthy Philistines! In an instant all his anger is forgotten. But it is still his chief joy to make fun of these lords and protectors of blameless decorum, to mock them, as is apparent from the lively and accentuated fragments of the theme, sounded at the beginning by the horn, which are now heard first from horns, violins, 'cellos, and then from trumpets, oboes, and flutes. Now that Eulenspiegel has had his joke, he goes away and leaves the professors and doctors behind in thoughtful meditation. Fragments of the typical theme of the Philistines are here treated canonically.[148] The wood-wind, violins, and trumpets suddenly project the 'Eulenspiegel' theme into their profound philosophy. It is as though the transcendent rogue were making faces at the bigwigs from a distance--again and again--and then waggishly running away. This is aptly characterized by a short episode in a hopping 2-4 rhythm, which, similarly with the first entrance of the Hypocrisy theme previously used, is followed by phantom-like tones from the wood-wind and strings and then from trombones and horns. Has our rogue still no foreboding?

"Interwoven with the very first theme, indicated lightly by trumpets and English horn, a figure is developed from the second introductory and fundamental theme. It is first taken up by the clarinets; it seems to express the fact that the arch-villain has again got the upper-hand of Eulenspiegel, who has fallen into his old manner of life.... A merry jester, a born liar, Eulenspiegel goes wherever he can succeed with a hoax. His insolence knows no bounds. Alas! there is a sudden jolt to his wanton humor. The drum rolls a hollow roll; the jailer drags the rascally prisoner into the criminal court. The verdict 'guilty' is thundered against the brazen-faced knave. The 'Eulenspiegel' theme replies calmly to the threatening chords of wind and lower strings. Eulenspiegel lies. Again the threatening tones resound; but Eulenspiegel does not confess his guilt. On the contrary, he lies for the third time. His jig is up. Fear seizes him. The Hypocrisy motive is sounded piteously; the fatal moment draws near; his hour has struck!... He has danced in air. A last struggle (flutes), and his soul takes flight.

"After sad, tremulous _pizzicati_ of the strings, the epilogue begins. At first it is almost identical with the introductory measures, which are repeated in full; then the most essential parts of the second and third chief-theme passages appear, and finally merge into [a] soft chord.... Eulenspiegel has become a legendary character. The people tell their tales about him: 'Once upon a time....' But that he was a merry rogue and a real devil of a fellow seems to be expressed by the final eight measures, full orchestra, _fortissimo_."

"THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA," TONE-POEM: Op. 30

_Also sprach Zarathustra, Tondichtung (frei nach Friedr. Nietzsche) für grosses Orchester_, was begun in February, finished in August, 1896. It is, as the title implies, a tonal rendering of impressions derived from _Also sprach Zarathustra_ ("Thus Spake Zarathustra"), the remarkable philosophico-romantic fantasy of Friedrich Nietzsche.[149] Strauss's music is, he says, _frei nach Nietzsche_; that is to say, treated "freely" after Nietzsche. "I did not," he has declared, "intend to write philosophical music or portray Nietzsche's great work musically. I meant to convey musically an idea of the development of the human race from its origin, through the various phases of development, religious as well as scientific, up to Nietzsche's idea of the Over-man (_Übermensch_)." A large order, one would say. Whatever Strauss may have meant by "philosophical music," he has certainly, whether he intended to or not, composed a score which is utterly and hopelessly incomprehensible unless one knows what its relationship is, at every point, with Nietzsche's book--a knowledge which Strauss has considerately assisted by prefixing to each section of the score an indication of the particular part of the book to which the music refers. If this is not translating philosophy into tones (or seeking to do so), if it is not an endeavor to find musical equivalents for various phases of a particular philosophy, a particular chain of ideas, then we shall have, as it seems, to discover a new significance in very ordinary words. This is not the place to discuss the _pros_ and _cons_ of the matter, or its aspect from the stand-point of musical æsthetics; the foregoing observations have been offered only for the purpose of clearing the ground, and to prepare the way for the statement which has now to be made: that a comprehension of this particular tone-poem, even with a knowledge of the score and its annotations, is impossible without a pretty complete understanding of Nietzsche's book and of his outlook upon life and ideas--an understanding which it is hardly feasible to attempt to communicate here. It is at least possible, though, to set forth certain of the essentials of his philosophical stand-point and of the characteristics of his _Zarathustra_, as a preparation for an acquaintance with the tone-poem of Strauss; and this cannot be better accomplished than by quoting from Mr. James Huneker's vivid and sympathetic study of the man and his views:

"What does Nietzsche teach? What is his central doctrine, divested of its increments of anti-Semitism, anti-Wagnerism, anti-Christianity, and anti-everything-else? Simply a doctrine as old as the first invertebrate organism which floated in torrid seas beneath a blazing moon: Egoism, individualism, personal freedom, self-hood. He is the apostle of the _ego_.... He is a proclaimer of the rank animalism of man. He believes in the body and not in the soul of theology....

"It is in _Also sprach Zarathustra_ that the genius of Nietzsche is best studied. Like the Buddhistic _Tripitaka_, it is a book of highly colored Oriental aphorisms, interrupted by lofty lyric outbursts. It is an ironic, enigmatic, rhetorical rhapsody, the Third Part of a half-mad 'Faust.' In it may be seen flowing all the currents of modern cultures and philosophies, and, if it teaches anything at all, it teaches the wisdom and beauty of air, sky, waters, and earth, and of laughter, not Pantagruelian, but 'holy laughter.' The love of earth is preached in rapturous accents. A Dionysian ecstasy anoints the lips of this latter-day Sibyl on his tripod when he speaks of earth. He is intoxicated with the fulness of its joys. No gloomy monasticism, no denial of the will to live, no futile thinking about thinking--so despised by Goethe--no denial of grand realities, may be found in the curriculum of this Bacchantic philosopher. A pantheist, he is also a poet and seer like William Blake, and marvels at the symbol of nature, 'the living garment of the Deity'--Nietzsche's deity, of course.... It is the history of his soul, as 'Leaves of Grass' is Whitman's--there are some curious parallelisms between these two subjective epics. It is intimate, yet hints at universality; it contains some of Amiel's introspection and some of Baudelaire's morbidity--half-mad, yet exhorting, comforting; Hamlet and John Bunyan."

When Strauss's _Also sprach Zarathustra_ was performed in Boston in the year following its completion (October 30, 1897), Mr. W. F. Apthorp wrote for the programme notes of the Boston Symphony Orchestra an analysis and exposition of the work which for completeness and precision could not well be surpassed. I reproduce it, in part, herewith:

"On a fly-leaf of the score is printed the following excerpt from Nietzsche's book:

"'ZARATHUSTRA'S PREFACE' (Friedrich Nietzsche).

"When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the sea of his home and went to the mountains. Here he enjoyed his mind and his solitude, and did not tire thereof for ten years. But at last his heart was changed, and one morning he rose with the dawn, stood before the sun, and spake thus to him:

"'Thou great star! What were thy happiness, if thou hadst not him whom thou dost illumine! For ten years hast thou come here up to my cave: thou wouldst have had enough of thy light and of this road, without me, my eagle, and my serpent.

"'But we awaited thee every morning, relieved thee of thy superfluity, and blessed thee therefor.

"'See! I am tired of my wisdom, like the bee which has gathered too much honey; I need hands that stretch out.

"'I would make gifts and divide, till the wise among men have once more grown glad of their folly, and the poor, once more, of their riches. For this I must go down to the depths: as thou dost of evenings, when thou goest behind the sea and bringest light even to the lower world, thou over-rich star!

"'Like thee, I must _go down_,[150] as men call it, to them to whom I would descend. So bless me, then, thou placid eye, that canst see an over-great happiness without envy.

"'Bless thy beaker, which would fain overflow, that the water may flow out golden therefrom and carry the reflection of thy ecstasy everywhere!

"'See! This beaker would fain become empty again, and Zarathustra would fain become a man again.

"'--Thus began Zarathustra's downfall.'

"In Nietzsche's book, Zarathustra goes from the mountains down to men and preaches: 'I teach you the Over-man. Man is something that must be overcome. What have ye done to overcome him?... The Over-man is the meaning of the Earth.... Man is a rope, made fast between the Beast and the Over-man--a rope over an abyss. A dangerous passing-over, a dangerous on-the-way, a dangerous staying-behind, a dangerous shuddering and standing-still. What is great in Man is that he is a bridge and not a purpose: what can be loved in Man is that he is a transition and a downfall.[151]... What good and evil is, that no one yet knows: unless it be he who creates! But this one is he who creates Man's goal, and gives the Earth its meaning: he alone creates it that something shall be good and evil.'

"The great problem Zarathustra tries to solve in his speech is: to teach men the deification of Life; all human values must be 'transvalued,' and therewith a new order of the universe created, 'beyond good and evil.' Zarathustra himself is this 'world beyond,' he is the freest of the free, who descries in all Becoming only a yearning after his own self and teaching, which yearning alone can overcome the 'simian' world and 'simian' Mankind, slaves of traditional convention, and offer to Man--not the Joy of Life, for there is no such thing, but--the 'Fulness of Life,' in the joy of the senses, in the triumphant exuberance of vitality, in the pure, lofty naturalness of the Antique--in short, in the fusion of God, World, and Ego. This art of life of Zarathustra's shall be shared by Mankind; herein shall Zarathustra be dissolved in Mankind and 'go down!' Thus are also to be explained the significant closing words of the fourth chapter of 'Twilight of the Idols'[152]: 'Mid-day: the moment of the shortest shadow; the end of the longest error. The culminating-point of Humanity: _Incipit Zarathustra_.'

"Taking the excerpt from 'Zarathustra's Preface,' reprinted on the fly-leaf of his score, as his poetic text, Strauss has illustrated it in his own way.... Perhaps it were best ... not to attempt a metaphysico-romantic analysis of the work, but to leave this to the listener's imagination, after putting before him the composer's preface. It will be well, however, to give some sub-captions which Strauss has put at various points of the score.

"Just after the first great _fortissimo_ outburst of the full orchestra and organ on the chord of C major,[153] stands, 'OF THE DWELLERS IN THE REAR-WORLD.' These were fools and pietarians, who sought the solution in _Religion_. Once Zarathustra, too, cast his delusion beyond Humankind, like all dwellers in the Rear-World. 'The World then seemed to be the work of a suffering and tormented God. The World then seemed to me a dream, a God's poem.... I, too, once cast my delusion beyond Humankind.... Ah, ye brothers, this God, whom I created, was the work of a man, and--an insanity, like all Gods.'

"Further on we find the sub-caption, 'OF THE GREAT YEARNING,' over a strenuous ascending passage in the 'cellos and bassoons, answered by the wood-wind. This refers to the following passage in Nietzsche's book: 'Wouldst thou not weep, not weep out thy purple despondency, then must thou _sing_, O my soul!... _Sing with boisterous song_, till all seas grow still, that they may listen to thy yearning.... Already glowest thou and dreamest, already drinkest thou thirstily at all deep-sounding _Springs of Comfort_, already does thy despondency find its rest in the beatitude of songs to come!'

"Over the expressive, pathetic _cantilena_ in C minor of the second violins, oboes, and horn, stands, 'OF JOYS AND PASSIONS'.

"Further on we come to the 'GRAVE-SONG,' a tenderly expressive _cantilena_ in the oboe, over the 'Yearning-motive' in the 'cellos and bassoons: 'Yonder is the island of graves, the silent one; yonder, too, are the graves of my youth. Thither will I carry an evergreen wreath of Life. Resolving this in my heart, I journeyed across the sea. O ye sights and apparitions of my youth! O all ye love-glances, ye divine moments! How soon are ye dead to me! I think of you to-day as of my dead ones.... To kill me did they wring your necks, ye song-birds of my hopes! Yea, at you, ye dearest ones, did malice ever aim its shafts--to hit my heart....'

"Over the fugued passage, beginning in the 'cellos and double-basses, stands, 'OF SCIENCE.' It is to be noted, as a musical curiosity, that the subject of this fugue contains all the diatonic and chromatic degrees of the scale....

"Considerably further on, where a violent passage in the strings (beginning in the 'cellos and violas) soars up, ... stands, 'THE CONVALESCENT.'... 'Let us kill the Spirit of Weight!...'

"So learn to laugh your way out of yourselves! Uplift your hearts, ye good dancers, high! higher! And forget not the good laughter! This crown to the laughers, this rose-wreath crown: to you, my brothers, do I dedicate this crown! _I have pronounced_ _Laughter holy_; ye Higher Men, learn--to laugh!... One must have Chaos in himself, to give birth to a dancing star....' Then the 'DANCE-SONG' begins, ushered in by trills in the flutes and clarinets.

"Much further on, after a _fortissimo_ stroke of the bell, comes 'THE SONG OF THE NIGHT-WANDERER.' In the later editions of his book Nietzsche gave the corresponding chapter the title, 'Drunken Song.' On the twelve strokes of the 'heavy, heavy humming-bell (_Brummglocke_),' he wrote the following lines:

"'ONE! "'O Man, take heed!'

"'TWO! "'What speaks the deep midnight?'

"'THREE! "'I have slept, I have slept--'

"'FOUR! "'I have awaked out of a deep dream:--'

"'FIVE! "'The world is deep,'

"'SIX! "'And deeper than the day thought for.'

"'SEVEN! "'Deep is its woe,--'

"'EIGHT! "'Joy, deeper still than heart-sorrow.'

"'NINE! "'Woe speaks: Vanish!'

"'TEN! "'Yet all joy wants eternity, ...'

"'ELEVEN! "'Wants deep, deep eternity!'

"'TWELVE!'

"The composition ends mystically in two keys--in B major in the high wood-wind and violins, in C major in the basses _pizzicati_. Zarathustra's downfall!"

"DON QUIXOTE," FANTASTIC VARIATIONS ON A THEME OF KNIGHTLY CHARACTER: Op. 35

The full title of this work (composed in 1897) is: _Don Quixote (Introduzione, Tema con Variazioni, e Finale): Fantastische Variationen über ein Thema ritterlichen Characters_. That is to say, it is in the form of a theme with variations, the theme is of "knightly character," and the variations are "fantastic." From the programmatic point of view, it is a series of tone-pictures in which are set forth, upon a musical canvas of singular vividness, the figures of Cervantes' Knight of the Rueful Countenance and his squire Sancho Panza, and their memorable adventures in quest of knightly glory. The orchestral score contains no programme or explanatory notes, save two superscriptions printed above the dual portions of the theme, identifying the first part with Don Quixote, the second part with Sancho Panza; yet Strauss, with his inveterate lack of consistency in such matters, has annotated the pianoforte arrangement of his music with a completeness which he has capriciously denied to the orchestral score, placing at the head of each variation a verbal clew to the particular adventure which the music aims to describe. From these it is possible to follow its meaning in fairly ample detail.

The music consists of an Introduction, a Theme, ten variations, and a Finale, continuous throughout. Each variation is concerned with some incident in Cervantes' novel. A solo 'cello represents, or "enacts," Don Quixote; a solo viola, Sancho Panza.

INTRODUCTION

Don Quixote is deep in the perusal of old romances of errant chivalry. Grandiose and splendid pictures pass through his mind and inflame his imagination. He beholds Dulcinea--Dulcinea, the ideal woman (oboe melody); he sees her beset by giants and rescued by a knight. "His fantasy was filled with those things that he read, of enchantments, quarrels, battles, challenges, wounds, wooings, loves, tempests, and other impossible follies," and in the end, "through his little sleep and much reading, he dried up his brains in such sort as he lost wholly his judgment." The strain becomes unbearable; the orchestra utters confused and insane and wildly chaotic thoughts; until finally, "in some terrible chords that give one the sensation of an overstretched spring snapping violently," we realize that the Knight is at last quite mad. He has determined on a life of chivalry.

THEME

The two-part theme is announced: Don Quixote being limned by a phrase, pathetically grandiose, for solo 'cello (_moderato_); Sancho Panza by a burly and grotesquely comic theme first heard on the tenor tuba and bass clarinet, but afterwards confined to a solo viola.

VARIATION I DON QUIXOTE AND SANCHO PANZA SET FORTH

The knight and his squire set forth on their quest of chivalric adventure, the Don inspired by the thought of the lovely Dulcinea del Toboso (the theme of the Ideal Woman). The sight of windmills revolving in the breeze inspires his valor; he charges them, and is overthrown by the sails.

VARIATION II THE VICTORIOUS BATTLE WITH THE HOST OF THE GREAT EMPEROR ALIFONFARON

Out of a cloud of dust (strings) Don Quixote perceives the approach of an army. Sancho sees that it is a flock of sheep (the muted[154] brass instruments in the orchestra imitate their bleating), and seeks to restrain the enthusiasm of his master. Don Quixote charges valiantly and puts the enemy to rout.

VARIATION III COLLOQUIES OF KNIGHT AND SQUIRE

Don Quixote and Sancho Panzo argue concerning the reasonableness of a life of chivalry. The Don waxes eloquent over the glory of a knightly career, in an orchestral passage (developed out of his own theme and that of Dulcinea) of striking fervor and nobility. Sancho advocates the homely and attainable things of reality; we hear a fragment of his motive; but the Don silences him angrily.

VARIATION IV THE ENCOUNTER WITH THE PILGRIMS

The knight and his squire fall in with a band of pilgrims (a theme of ecclesiastical character for the wind instruments). Don Quixote imagines them to be villains and malefactors. He attacks them and is worsted, falling senseless. He revives slowly, and Sancho, relieved, lies down beside him and sleeps.

VARIATION V THE KNIGHT'S VIGIL BESIDE HIS ARMS

Don Quixote, following the knightly custom, refrains from sleep and watches beside his arms through the night. Ecstatically he perceives Dulcinea, as in a vision (the theme of the Ideal Woman is heard).

VARIATION VI THE MEETING WITH DULCINEA

Sancho Panza assures the Don that a certain vulgar peasant girl whom they meet is his adored Dulcinea (we hear the Ideal Woman theme, transformed into a common and trivial tune--wood-wind and tambourine). Don Quixote is incredulous. He angrily ascribes the effect to some magical agency.

VARIATION VII THE RIDE THROUGH THE AIR

Sitting stationary with bandaged eyes on a wooden horse, the knight and his squire believe that they are being borne through the air. We hear in the orchestra the whistling of the wind (here enters the famous "wind-machine"); the themes of the Don and of Sancho are giddily borne aloft on the instrumental breeze. A long-held note on the bassoon indicates their sudden stop, their realization, as they look about them, that they have not left the earth.

VARIATION VIII THE JOURNEY IN THE ENCHANTED BOAT

The knight, perceiving an empty boat, and being convinced that it is miraculously intended for his use, embarks in it with his squire for the accomplishment of some predestined deed of chivalry. The orchestra plays a graceful barcarolle. The boat upsets, but the two reach shore in safety. They offer up thanks for their escape (a religious passage for the wind instruments).

VARIATION IX THE CONFLICT WITH THE TWO SORCERERS

Don Quixote meets two wayfarers whom he takes to be the magicians whose sorcery has worked him ill. They are merely a pair of inoffensive monks, but the knight attacks them, with victorious results.

VARIATION X THE COMBAT WITH THE KNIGHT OF THE SILVER MOON, AND THE OVERTHROW OF DON QUIXOTE

The bachelor Samson Carrasco, the "Knight of the Silver Moon," one of Don Quixote's townsmen, does battle with him for the sake of his own good and to cure him of his delusions: "so to have him in his own house, I thought upon this device." The music portrays the contest between them, which is thus described by Cervantes: "They both of them set spurs to their horses, and the Knight of the White Moon's being the swifter, met Don Quixote ere he had run a quarter of his career so forcibly (without touching him with his lance, for it seemed he carried it aloft on purpose) that he tumbled horse and man both to the ground, and Don Quixote had a terrible fall; so he got straight on the top of him; and, clapping his lance's point upon his visor, said, 'You are vanquished, Knight, and a dead man, if you confess not, according to the conditions of our combat.' Don Quixote, all bruised and amazed, without heaving up his visor, as if he had spoken out of a tomb, with a faint and weak voice said, 'Dulcinea del Toboso is the fairest woman in the world, and I the unfortunatest knight on earth; and it is not fit that my weakness defraud this truth; thrust your lance into me, Knight, and kill me, since you have bereaved me of my honor.' 'Not so, truly,' quoth he of the White Moon; 'let the fame of my Lady Dulcinea's beauty live in her entireness; I am only contented that the grand Don Quixote retire home for a year, or till such time as I please, as we agreed before we began the battle.' And Don Quixote answered that, so nothing were required of him in prejudice of his Lady Dulcinea, he would accomplish all the rest, like a true and punctual knight."

Don Quixote, defeated, broken-hearted, his illusions vanishing one by one, rides homeward with his squire in profound dejection; and here the orchestra evolves out of a pathetic variant of his theme an eloquent and vivid commentary.

FINALE THE DEATH OF DON QUIXOTE

The knight, once more a sane and wise man, his brain cleared of its mists, his reason restored, lies dying peacefully in his bed. "They stood all gazing one upon another, wondering at Don Quixote's sound reasons, although they made some doubt to believe them. One of the signs which induced them to conjecture that he was near unto death's door was that with such facility he was from a stark fool become a wise man. For, to the words already alleged, he added many more so significant, so Christian-like, and so well couched, that without doubt they confidently believed that Don Quixote was become a right wise man.... Amidst the wailful plaints and blubbering tears of the bystanders he yielded up the ghost--that is to say, he died."[155] The music which portrays his end is simple and very peaceful. The chords which, at the beginning, indicated his aberration, are now orderly, tranquil, and composed.

"A HERO'S LIFE" ["EIN HELDENLEBEN"], TONE-POEM: Op. 40

_Ein Heldenleben_ was completed in December, 1898. The score bears absolutely no indication of its purport or significance save the title: we are left to guess whether the "hero" whose life is celebrated therein is an ideal hero or a figure of history, of myth, of romance, or of private life. Strauss is said to have observed, in response to a question: "There is no need of a programme. It is enough to know there is a hero fighting his enemies." Yet the analysts have been busy with this score, as with others by Strauss; and he has, at least by implication, sanctioned their interpretations.

"A Hero's Life" is in six connected sections, arranged and identified as follows:

1. THE HERO 2. THE HERO'S ADVERSARIES 3. THE HERO'S CONSORT 4. THE HERO'S BATTLE-FIELD 5. THE HERO'S WORKS OF PEACE 6. THE HERO'S RETIREMENT FROM THE WORLD, AND THE END OF HIS STRIVING

I. THE HERO

We hear first the theme of the Hero, a chivalric and wide-arched phrase, of extraordinary breadth and energy, announced _forte_ by horns, viola, and 'cellos. Subsidiary themes follow, picturing various aspects of his nature--his "pride, emotional nature, iron will, richness of imagination," and so forth. The main theme, weightily proclaimed by tenor and bass tubas, four horns, double-basses, 'cellos, and wood-wind, brings the first section to a thunderous close.

II. THE HERO'S ADVERSARIES

Herein are pictured the Hero's opponents and detractors--an envious and malicious crew, rich in all uncharitableness.[156] The wood-wind instruments--flutes, oboes, English horn, clarinets--utter shrill and snarling phrases: beside them, the spiteful cackling of the wood-wind in the "_Meistersinger_" overture is as the amorous murmuring of doves. There is also an uncouth and sluggish phrase for tenor and bass tubas, intended to picture the malevolence of the dull-witted among the foe. The theme of the Hero, in a sad and meditative guise, pictures his dignified amazement, his pained and sorrowful surprise that his adversaries should so reveal the smallness and meanness and acrimony of their natures. A poignant phrase, of "Parsifal"-like color and profile (muted[157] strings) speaks of his temporary disquietment--perhaps his doubt of his own sublimity; but this is barely hinted at. His dauntless courage reasserts itself, and the mocking and contemptible horde are put, at least for the time, to rout.

III. THE HERO'S CONSORT

A solo violin, in a long and elaborate passage, introduces the Hero's beloved. She is pictured at first as capricious--a coquette; but the music grows more tender, more gentle; the full orchestra enters; the oboe sings an expressive melody; there are rapturous and passionate phrases for the strings amid sweeping arpeggios in the harps, and the love scene reaches its climax. The mocking voices of the foe are heard remotely, like the distant croaking of night birds through an ecstatic dream: they are powerless to disturb the peace and felicity of the lovers.

IV. THE HERO'S BATTLE-FIELD

But now the call to battle sounds, and it may not be ignored. Distant fanfares of trumpets summon the Hero to the conflict. The orchestra becomes a battle-field; the music is chaos--tumultuous, cataclysmic: "it evokes the picture of countless and waging hosts, of forests of waving spears and clashing blades. The din, heat, and turmoil of conflict are spread over all, and the ground piled high with the slain." Through the dust and din we are reminded of the inspiration of the beloved, which urges on and enheartens the champion, whose motive contests for supremacy with that of his adversaries. A triumphant orchestral outburst on the Hero's theme proclaims at last his victory. Yet he rejoices alone--the world regards his conquest with cold and cynical indifference.

V. THE HERO'S WORKS OF PEACE

Now begins a celebration of the hero's victories of peace, his spiritual evolution and achievements. This section is introduced by a reminder of the uncouth phrase for tenor and bass tuba heard in the second division. The heroic and tender themes of the preceding pages are recalled, and with them are woven (a significant indication of the true subject of the tone-poem) quotations of themes from Strauss's earlier works. We hear, in surprising and subtle combinations, reminiscences of "Don Juan," "Thus Spake Zarathustra," "Death and Transfiguration," "Don Quixote," "Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks," the music-drama "Guntram," "Macbeth," and the famous and lovely song, _Traum durch die Dämmerung_. Industrious commentators have discovered twenty-three of these quotations.

VI. THE HERO'S RETIREMENT FROM THE WORLD, AND THE END OF HIS STRIVING

Again we hear, in the tubas, the uncouth and cacophonous phrase which voices the dull contempt of the benighted adversaries. Even the glorious achievements of the Hero's brain, his spiritual conquests, have won only envy and derision. The protagonist rebels mightily; there are passionate and tempestuous phrases, reminiscences of his theme, in the strings, horns, and wood-wind. But his mood quiets. Over a persistent tapping of the kettle-drum, the English horn intones a gentler version of his theme. An agitating memory of the striving and conflict of the past disturbs, but only for a moment, the serenity of his mood. We are reminded of the consoling presence of the beloved one. Peace descends upon the spirit of the Hero. The close is majestic and benign.

"DOMESTIC SYMPHONY": Op. 53

In the course of an interview published in London in 1902, Strauss made this announcement: "My next tone-poem will illustrate 'a day in my family life.' It will be partly lyrical, partly humorous--a triple fugue, the three subjects representing papa, mamma, and the baby." The _Symphonia Domestica_, composed in 1903, was published in 1904. The first performance anywhere was at Carnegie Hall, New York, March 21, 1904.

The symphony, which bears this dedication: _Meiner lieben Frau und unserm Jungen gewidmet_ ("Dedicated to my dear Wife and our Boy"), is in one movement and three subdivisions: (1) Introduction and Scherzo; (2) Adagio; (3) Double Fugue and Finale. The composer declined, at the time of the first performance of the symphony, to furnish any programme for the music.[158] When the work was produced in Berlin (December 12, 1904), under the direction of the composer, the programme books contained this (presumably authorized) annotation of the music:

"I. INTRODUCTION and development of the three chief groups of themes: The husband's themes: (_a_) Easy-going, (_b_) Dreamy, (_c_) Fiery. The wife's themes: (_a_) Lively and gay, (_b_) Grazioso. The child's theme: Tranquil.

"II. SCHERZO: Parents' happiness. Childish play. Cradle-song (the clock strikes seven in the evening).

"III. ADAGIO: Doing and thinking. Love scene. Dreams and cares (the clock strikes seven in the morning).

"IV. FINALE: Awakening and merry dispute (double fugue). Joyous conclusion."

A year later, in connection with the first performance in England, an "official" description was published, and it was intimated that this description was "allowed" by the composer "to be made public." It is therefore reproduced here, since there is every reason to believe that it constitutes an authentic interpretation of the music.

"[INTRODUCTION]

"The symphony is concerned with three main themes, that of the husband, that of the wife, and that of the child. The husband theme is divided into three sections, the first of which is marked _gemächlich_ ('easy-going,' or 'deliberate,' given out by 'cellos), the second _sinnend_ ('meditative,'[159] oboe,) and the third _feurig_ ('fiery,' violins). The first section of the symphony, the Introduction, is devoted to an exposition and treatment of the chief themes, or groups of themes, its most striking feature being the introduction of the child theme on the _oboe d'amore_, an instrument which has practically fallen out of use.[160] The composer himself has spoken of this theme as being of 'almost Haydnesque simplicity.' On this follows a very characteristic passage, which has been interpreted as representing the child in its bath.[161]

"[SCHERZO]

"The Scherzo bears the headings _Elternglück--Kindliche Spiele_ ('Parents' Happiness'--'The Child at Play'). Its chief theme is the child theme in a new rhythm. At its end the music suggestive of the bath recurs, and the clock strikes seven. We then come to the lullaby, where we have another version of the child theme.

"[ADAGIO]

"The sub-headings of the Adagio are _Schaffen und Schauen--Liebes-scene--Träume und Sorgen_ ('Doing and Thinking'--'Love Scene'--'Dreams and Cares'). This elaborate section introduces no new themes of any importance, and is really a symphonic slow movement of great polyphonic elaboration and superlatively rich orchestral color. The gradual awakening of the family is next depicted by a change in the character of the music, which becomes more and more restless, the use of rhythmical variants of previous themes being very ingenious; and then there is another reference to the bath music, and the glockenspiel[162] indicates that it is 7 A.M.

"[FINALE]

"In this way we reach the final Fugue. The principal subject of this is also a new version of the child theme. Its sub-title is _Lustiger Streit--Fröhlicher Beschluss_ ('Merry Argument'--'Happy Conclusion'), the subject of the dispute between father and mother being the future of the son. The Fugue (the chief subject of which is another variant of the child theme) is carried on with unflagging spirit and humor and great variety of orchestration.... As the Fugue proceeds, the child theme gradually grows more and more prominent, and finally seems to dominate the whole score." ["The child seems to have hurt himself in boisterous play," says another commentator. "The mother cares for him, and the father also has a soothing word."] "Some new themes, all more or less akin to it, and all in the nature of folk-tunes, are introduced. The father and mother, however, soon assume their former importance, and the whole ends with great spirit and in the highest good-humor, with an emphatic reassertion of the husband theme with which it began, suggesting that the father had the last word in the argument."

FOOTNOTES:

[142] From the English version of John P. Jackson.

[143] See page 75 (foot-note).

[144] "Rubato": literally, "robbed"; in the phrase, "tempo rubato," a direction that the strict rhythm of the movement be relaxed by prolonging certain notes at the expense of others, which are thus "robbed" of their precise time-value.

[145] Alexander Ritter (1833-1896), composer, violinist, conductor (he married a niece of Wagner, an actress, Franziska Wagner), met Strauss at Meiningen in 1885, during the latter's term there as assistant conductor under Hans von Bülow. The acquaintanceship was of vital consequence to Strauss. "Before I knew Ritter," he himself has said, "I had been brought up in a severely classical school. I had been nourished exclusively on Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven; and then I became acquainted with Mendelssohn, Chopin, Schumann, and Brahms. It is only through Ritter that I came to understand Liszt and Wagner.... Ritter was exceptionally well-read in all the philosophers, ancient and modern, and a man of the highest culture. His influence was in the nature of a storm-wind. He urged me on to the development of the poetic, the expressive, in music, as exemplified in the works of Liszt, Wagner, and Berlioz."

[146] To comment upon this reference to a classic form of musical structure would lead too far afield, although Strauss's suggestion as to the form of his work is not altogether jocose.

[147] See page 12 (foot-note).

[148] See page 184 (foot-note).

[149] Friedrich Nietzsche, philosopher, poet, and mystic, was born at Röcken, near Lützen, Germany, October 15, 1844; he died insane at Weimar, August 28, 1900. He was, at one time, a close friend of Richard Wagner's and a passionate adherent and champion of his cause in the days when Wagnerism needed such devoted and effective advocacy as his. Later he became estranged from the author of "Parsifal," and his antagonism was as fervent as had been his partisanship. His bitter and savage _Der Fall Wagner_ (1888) is famous. _Also sprach Zarathustra_, written in 1883-1885, was published in 1892. Nietzsche's "Zarathustra," it may not be superfluous to add, has nothing whatever in common with the Zarathustra (Zoroaster) of the Persians.

[150] "The German word is _untergehen_; literally, to go below. It means both 'to perish' and 'to set' (as the sun sets)."--W. F. A.

[151] "In the original: '_ein Übergang und ein Untergang_'; literally, 'a going over and a going under.'"--W. F. A.

[152] "This title is in allusion to the old Northern _Ragnarök_--_Götterdämmerung_, or 'Twilight of the Gods'--which Wagner took for the title of the closing drama of his _Ring des Nibelungen_."--W. F. A.

[153] The titanic orchestral proclamation with which the tone-poem begins has been interpreted as a musical illustration of the opening paragraphs of the preface quoted in the score, suggesting the apparition of the rising sun on the mountain-tops, and Zarathustra's apostrophe. The trumpet theme which is intoned at the beginning of this passage over a _crescendo_ roar of the drums and organ has been called both the "Zarathustra" motive and the "Nature" theme.--L. G.

[154] See page 12 (foot-note).

[155] This and the foregoing translations from Cervantes are from the English version of Thomas Shelton.

[156] It has been held that Strauss is here autobiographic, that he here objectifies and pillories those critics of his own works "who have not been prudent enough to proclaim him great." For, Mr. James Huneker declares, "there can be no doubt as to the identity of the protagonist of this drama-symphony--it is the glorified image of Richard Strauss."

[157] See page 12 (foot-note).

[158] When the "Domestica" was first performed in London (February 25, 1905), Mr. Ernest Newman, discussing the stand-point of Strauss towards his works and the public, relieved his mind as follows (it is well to reproduce his comment here, since it may obviate some confusion in the thought of the reader unacquainted with the history of Strauss's relation to programme-music in general and his own in particular): "It has been said very confidently that here Strauss has forsaken programme-music and gone back to music of the absolute order; it has also been said, with equal confidence, that he has done nothing of the kind. Strauss himself has behaved as foolishly over it as he might have been expected to do after his previous exploits in the same line. He writes a work like 'Till Eulenspiegel,' that is based from start to finish on the most definite of episodes, and then goes through the heavy farce of 'mystifying' his hearers by telling them he prefers not to give them the clue to the episodes, but to leave them to 'crack the nut' as best they can. All the while he is giving clue after clue to his personal friends, till at length sufficient information is gathered to reconstruct the story that Strauss had worked upon; this gradually gets into all the programme books, and then we are able to listen to the work in the only way it can be listened to with any comprehension--with a full knowledge of the programme. With each new work of Strauss there is the same tomfoolery--one can use no milder word to describe proceedings that no doubt have a rude kind of German humor, but that strike other people as more than a trifle silly. So it is now with the 'Symphonia Domestica.'"

[159] The direction in the published score is _träumerisch_ ("dreamy").

[160] The _oboe d'amore_, or _hautbois d'amour_, invented about 1720, stands a minor third lower in pitch than the treble oboe. It fell into disuse soon after the middle of the eighteenth century. Though it is no longer part of the ordinary orchestral apparatus, it might be restored with advantage. Its use by Strauss is exceedingly effective.

[161] In this section of the symphony occur the celebrated genealogical references of the composer. Above a brief and emphatic ascending figure in the clarinets and trumpet is this note in the score: "The Aunts: 'Just like his papa!'" Oboes, horns, and trombone rejoin in an uncompromising _descending_ phrase which is superscribed: "The Uncles: 'Just like his mamma!'"

[162] See page 184 (foot-note).

TSCHAIKOWSKY

(_Peter Iljitsch Tschaikowsky: born in Votinsk, in the government of Viatka, Russia, May 7, 1840; died in St. Petersburg, November 6, 1893_)

"ROMEO AND JULIET," OVERTURE-FANTASIE[163]

"Romeo and Juliet" ("overture-fantasie after Shakespeare"), composed in 1869-70, is the second of Tschaikowsky's programmatic works for orchestra.[164] There is no note of any kind attached to the score; but according to responsible interpreters the music is concerned with definite aspects of Shakespeare's tragedy. At the start is presented the figure of Friar Laurence (churchly harmonies in the clarinets and bassoons); later, the conflict of the opposing houses, expressed in a tumultuous passage full of strife and fury. Then follows the love scene, introducing two themes of rich emotional suggestion. The first of these themes--the rhapsodic and song-like phrase announced by muted[165] violas and English horn--was used by Tschaikowsky in the fragmentary "Duo from 'Romeo and Juliet'" found among his papers after his death, where it voices these words sung by Romeo: _O nuit d'extase, arrête toi, O nuit d'amour, étends ton voile noir sur nous!_ ("O linger, night of ecstasy; O night of love, spread thy dark veil over us!"). The second theme--the lovely sequence of chords scored for muted and divided violins--forms, in the duet, the accompaniment to the impassioned dialogue of the enamoured pair in the chamber scene.[166] Following the love scene is a resumption of the stress and conflict of the first part, against which the solemn warning of Friar Laurence protests in vain. The lovers are again evoked, with more passionate insistence than before; there is a cumulative moment of arresting intensity; then, after a brief and portentous silence, a dolorous reminiscence of Romeo's ecstatic song, now dirge-like and woful (violins, 'cellos, bassoons; afterwards, declaimed with greater breadth, in the strings, with accompaniment of wood-wind, horns, and harp), brings the music to a close.

FANTASIA, "THE TEMPEST": Op. 18

During a visit to St. Petersburg in the winter of 1872-73, Tschaikowsky begged his friend Vladimir Stassov to suggest to him a subject for a symphonic fantasia--something, he preferred, Shakespearian. Stassov responded by sending Tschaikowsky a letter proposing "The Tempest" as a theme, and outlining, in elaborate and enthusiastic detail, the poetic and dramatic plan which, he conceived, should underlie the music. This scheme so appealed to Tschaikowsky that he announced his determination "to carry out every detail"; and, to judge from his own programme affixed to the score, he actually did so. Stassov's remarks, therefore, serve as the best possible commentary on the significance of Tschaikowsky's music. He wrote as follows:

"I ... rejoice in the prospect of your work, which should prove a worthy pendant to your 'Romeo and Juliet' [see the preceding pages]. You ask whether it is necessary to introduce the tempest. Most certainly. Undoubtedly, most undoubtedly. Without it ... the entire programme would fall through. I have carefully weighed every incident, with all their _pros_ and _cons_, and it would be a pity to upset the whole business. I think the sea should be depicted twice--at the opening and close of the work. In the introduction I pictured it to myself as calm, until Prospero works his spell and the storm begins. But I think this storm should be different from all others [all other orchestral storms], in that it breaks out _at once_ in all its fury, and does not, as generally happens, work itself up to a climax by degrees. I suggest this original treatment because this particular tempest is brought about by enchantment, and not, as in most operas, oratorios, and symphonies, by natural agencies. When the storm has abated, when its roaring, screeching, booming, and raging have subsided, the Enchanted Island appears in all its beauty, and, still more lovely, the maiden Miranda, who flits like a sunbeam over the island. Her conversation with Prospero, and immediately afterwards with Ferdinand, who fascinates her, and with whom she falls in love. The love theme (_crescendo_) must resemble the expanding and blooming of a flower; Shakespeare has thus depicted her at the close of the first act, and I think this would be something well suited to your muse. Then I would suggest the appearance of Caliban, the half-animal slave; and then Ariel, whose motto you may find in Shakespeare's lyric (at the end of the first act)--'Come unto these yellow sands.' After Ariel, Ferdinand and Miranda should reappear; this time in a phrase of glowing passion. Then the imposing figure of Prospero, who relinquishes his magic arts and takes farewell of his past; and finally the sea, calm and peaceful, which washes the shores of the desert island, while the happy inhabitants are borne away in a ship to distant Italy."

How faithfully Tschaikowsky adhered to this admirable plan is made evident by the following programme, which, in Russian and French, prefixes the score:

"The Sea. Ariel, spirit of the air, obedient to the will of the magician Prospero, evokes a tempest. Wreck of the ship which carries Ferdinand. The Enchanted Isle. First timid stirring of love between Miranda and Ferdinand. Ariel. Caliban. The love-lorn couple abandon themselves to the triumphant sway of passion. Prospero lays aside his magical power and quits the isle. The Sea."

_La Tempête_ was begun early in August, 1873, and finished three months later. It is dedicated to Stassov. The work was produced at a concert of the Moscow Musical Society, December 19, 1873. In November of the following year it was performed in St. Petersburg. Stassov attended a rehearsal, and wrote frankly to Tschaikowsky concerning the music of which he was at least part creator:

"I have just come from the rehearsal for Saturday's concert. Your 'Tempest' was played for the first time. Rimsky-Korsakoff and I sat alone in the empty hall and overflowed with delight.

"Your 'Tempest' is fascinating! Unlike any other work! The tempest itself is not remarkable or new; Prospero, too, is nothing out of the way, and at the close you have made a very common-place cadenza, such as one might find in the finale of an Italian opera--these are three blemishes. But all the rest is a marvel of marvels! Caliban, Ariel, the love scene--all belong to the highest creations of art. In both love scenes, what passion, what languor, what beauty! I know nothing to compare with it. The wild, uncouth Caliban, the wonderful flights of Ariel--these are creations of the first order. In this scene the orchestration is enchanting.

"Rimsky and I send you our homage and heartiest congratulations upon the completion of such a fine piece of workmanship."[167]

FANTASIA, "FRANCESCA DA RIMINI": Op. 32

Tschaikowsky visited Paris in the summer of 1876, and while there sketched the plan of a symphonic poem after Dante--"Francesca da Rimini." He had intended to write an opera based on this theme, and had considered a libretto on the subject prepared by one Zvantsieff. But the project was abandoned. In July of that year he wrote from Paris to his brother Modeste: "Early this morning I read through the fifth canto of the 'Inferno,' and was beset by the wish to compose a symphonic poem, 'Francesca da Rimini.' On October 26th he wrote from Moscow: "I have just finished a new work, the symphonic fantasia 'Francesca da Rimini.' I have worked on it _con amore_, and I believe that my love has brought with it success.... However, a just estimate of this work is impossible so long as it is not orchestrated and has not been played."

The fantasia was completed in November, 1876.

Prefaced to the score is this introduction:

"Dante arrives in the second circle of hell. He sees that here the incontinent are punished, and their punishment is to be tormented continually by the crudest winds under a gloomy air. Among these tortured ones he recognizes Francesca da Rimini, who tells her story."

Then follows a quotation from the fifth canto of the "Inferno," beginning with Francesca's words:

"... _Nessun maggior dolore, Che ricordasi del tempo felice Nella miseria;_"

("... There is no greater pain Than to recall a happier time In misery;")

and ending with the concluding line of the canto--that is to say, twenty-one lines out of the hundred and forty comprised in the canto. Since it is, perhaps, well to recall the entire story as Dante relates it, in order that the scope and significance of Tschaikowsky's music may be understood, I quote the canto from beginning to end, in the extraordinarily careful and felicitous translation of Dr. John A. Carlyle:

"Thus I descended from the first circle down to the second,[168] which encompasses less space, and so much greater pain, that it stings to wailing. There Minos sits horrific, and grins; examines the crimes upon the entrance; judges, and sends according as he girds himself. I say that when the ill-born spirit comes before him it confesses all; and that sin-discerner sees what place in hell is for it, and with his tail makes as many circles round himself as the degrees [the number of grades or circles] he will have to descend. Always before him stands a crowd of them. They go each in its turn to judgment; they tell and hear and then are whirled down.

"'O thou who comest to the abode of pain!' said Minos to me, leaving the act of that great office when he saw me; 'look how thou enterest, and in whom thou trustest. Let not the wideness of the entrance deceive thee.'

"And my guide to him: 'Why criest thou? Hinder not his fated going. Thus it is willed there where what is willed can be done; and ask no more.'

"Now begin the doleful notes to reach me; now am I come where much lamenting strikes me. I am come into a part void of all light, which bellows like the sea in tempest when it is combated by warring winds. The hellish storm, which never rests, leads the spirits with its sweep; whirling and smiting, it vexes them. When they arrive before the ruin, there the shrieks, the moanings, and the lamentation; there they blaspheme the divine power.

"I learned that to such torment were doomed the carnal sinners who subject reason to lust. And as their wings bear along the starlings, at the cold season, in large and crowded troop, so that blast, the evil spirits. Hither, thither, down, up, it leads them. No hope ever comforts them, not of rest but even of less pain. And as the cranes go chanting their lays, making a long streak of themselves in the air, so I saw the shadows come, uttering wails, borne by that strife of winds. Whereat I said: 'Master, who are those people whom the black air thus lashes?'

"'The first of these concerning whom thou seekest to know,' he then replied, 'was Empress of many tongues. With the vice of luxury she was so broken that she made lust and law alike in her decree, to take away the blame she had incurred. She is Semiramis, of whom we read that she succeeded Ninus, and was his spouse. She held the land which the Soldan rules. That other is she [Dido] who slew herself in love and broke faith to the ashes of Sichæus. Next comes luxurious Cleopatra.'

"Helena I saw, for whom so long a time of ill revolved; and I saw the great Achilles, who fought at last with love. I saw Paris, Tristan. And more than a thousand shades he showed to me, and with his finger named them, whom love had parted from our life. After I had heard my teacher name the olden dames and cavaliers, pity conquered me, and I was as if bewildered.

"I began: 'Poet, willingly would I speak with these two that go together, and seem so light upon the wind.'

"And he to me: 'Thou shalt see when they are nearer to us; and do thou then entreat them by that love which leads them, and they will come.'

"Soon as the wind bends them to us I raise my voice: 'O wearied souls! come to speak with us, if none denies it.'

"As doves, called by desire, with open and steady wings fly through the air to their loved nest, borne by their will, so those spirits issued from the band where Dido is, coming to us through the malignant air. Such was the force of my affectuous cry.

[Francesca speaks] "'O living creature, gracious and benign! that goest through the black air, visiting us who stained the earth with blood. If the King of the Universe were our friend, we would pray him for thy peace, seeing that thou hast pity of our perverse misfortune. Of that which it pleases thee to hear and to speak, we will hear and speak with you, whilst the wind, as now, is silent.

"'The town[169] where I was born sits on the shore where Po descends to rest with his attendant streams. Love, which is quickly caught in gentle heart, took him with the fair body of which I was bereft; and the manner still afflicts me. Love, which to no loved one permits excuse from loving, took me so strongly with delight in him that, as thou seest, even now it leaves me not. Love led us to one death. Caïna [the place in the lowest circle of hell occupied by Cain and other fratricides] waits for him who quenched our life.' These words from them were offered to us.

"After I had heard those wounded souls, I bowed my face and held it low until the Poet said to me: 'What art thou thinking of?'

"When I answered, I began: 'Ah me! what sweet thoughts, what longing led them to the woful pass!'

"Then I turned again to them; and I spoke, and began: 'Francesca, thy torments make me weep with grief and pity. But tell me: in the time of the sweet sighs, by what and how love granted you to know the dubious desires?'

"And she to me: 'No greater pain than to recall a happy time in wretchedness; and this thy teacher knows. But, if thou hast such desire to learn the first root of our love, I will do like one who weeps and tells.[170]

"'One day, for pastime, we read of Lancelot,[171] how love constrained him. We were alone and without all suspicion. Several times that reading urged our eyes to meet and changed the color of our faces. But one moment alone it was that overcame us. When we read how the fond smile was kissed by such a lover, he who shall never be divided from me kissed my mouth all trembling.

The book, and he who wrote it, was a Galeotto. That day we read in it no further.'[172]

"Whilst the one spirit thus spake, the other wept so, that I fainted with pity, as if I had been dying; and fell, as a dead body falls."

The opening section (_Andante lugubre_) of Tschaikowsky's fantasia evokes the sinister and dreadful scene which greeted Dante and Virgil as they entered the region of the second circle--the tempestuous winds, the wailing of the damned, the appalling gloom and horror of the place. "Pale, tormented, shadowy figures approach; they increase in number; orchestral spasm follow spasm; and then there is rest, there is awful silence." There follows a lull in the whirlwind, and a theme heard at the beginning (horns, cornet, trombones) "announces solemnly the approach of Francesca and Paolo. The wood-wind takes the theme, and a recitative leads to the second section of the fantasia, _Andante cantabile non troppo_." In this section the apparition of the two lovers is brought before us. "This middle part is especially beautiful," observes a German annotator, "on account of the original and vaporous accompaniment by three flutes of the chief theme. The ... motive of the first section enters ('cello) as the thought of remorse, but a delightful melody of the English horn and delicate harp-chords dispel the gloomy thoughts; and the picture of the two, happy in their all-absorbing, passionate, but disastrous love, is maintained. ["We seem," says Mrs. Rosa Newmarch of this passage, "to hear the spirit-voice of Francesca herself, from which all the horrors of hell have not taken the sweetness of human love and poignant memory."] Then the "lamenting ghosts" re-enter (_largamente_, wind instruments, then in the strings). "The lovers vanish in an orchestral storm." Saint-Saëns, in his lively _Portraits et Souvenirs_, makes some interesting comments on the music: "The gentlest and kindest of men," he writes, "has let loose a whirlwind in this work, and shows as little pity for his interpreters and hearers as Satan for sinners [here speaks the invincible classicist!].... A long, melodic phrase, the love song of Paolo and Francesca, soars above this tempest, this _bufera infernale_, which attracted Liszt before Tschaikowsky, and engendered his Dante Symphony [see pages 164-173]. Liszt's Francesca is more touching and more Italian in character than that of the great Slavonic composer; the whole work is so typical that we seem to see the profile of Dante projected in it. Tschaikowsky's art is more subtle, the outlines clearer, the material more attractive; from a purely musical point of view the work is better. Liszt's version is perhaps more to the taste of the poet or painter. On the whole, they can fitly stand side by side; either of them is worthy of Dante."

SYMPHONY No. 4, IN F MINOR: Op. 36

1. _Andante sostenuto_ _Moderato con anima in movimento di valse_ 2. _Andantino in modo di canzona_ 3. _Scherzo, "Pizzicato ostinato": Allegro_ 4. _Finale: Allegro con fuoco_

Tschaikowsky began this symphony in 1876, and completed it in the winter of 1877-78. The score bears the dedication: "To my Best Friend"; and behind the phrase lies a singular history, too long to be told here in full. The "best friend" was Nadeshda Filaretowna von Meck,[173] a widow living in Moscow. Exceedingly wealthy, she deeply admired the music of Tschaikowsky. She inquired concerning his pecuniary circumstances, and, learning that his means were straitened and that he was in debt, she sent him, in the summer of 1877, the sum of three thousand rubles. A correspondence had meanwhile begun between them (the first letter, from Mrs. von Meck, is dated December 30, 1876); she had given Tschaikowsky certain small commissions to do for her--transcriptions for violin and piano of certain of his works which she wished made--and for these she paid him generous fees. In the autumn of 1877 she asked him, with many apologies, to permit her to settle upon him an annual allowance of 6000 rubles (about $3000), that he might compose undisturbed by material cares. "If I wanted something from you," she wrote, "of course you would give it me--is it not so? Very well, then, we cry quits. Do not interfere with my management of your domestic economy, Peter Iljitsch." She desired and insisted that they should never meet or personally know each other; "the more you fascinate me, the more I shrink from knowing you," she wrote. Tschaikowsky accepted the settlement, and respected her wish concerning their intercourse. "I can only serve you," wrote the composer, "by means of my music. Nadeshda Filaretowna, every note which comes from my pen in future is dedicated to you!" They corresponded frequently, at length, and with the deepest intellectual and spiritual intimacy; but they never met. "When they accidentally came face to face," writes Tschaikowsky's brother Modeste, "they passed as total strangers. To the end of their days they never exchanged a word...."

Their correspondence, which extended over thirteen years, was abruptly and lamentably ended. In December, 1890, Tschaikowsky received a letter from his patroness informing him that she was on the brink of ruin, and that she would be obliged to discontinue his allowance; this, despite the fact that she had more than once declared to him that, no matter what occurred, his annuity was assured to him for life. As it happened, this curtailment of his income did not greatly affect Tschaikowsky's pecuniary situation, for he had come to know prosperity with his increasing fame; but he suffered keen anxiety on his friend's account. Not long after, it turned out that Mrs. von Meck's fortune was not seriously affected, after all--a turn of events which, however, brought misery to the hyper-sensitive soul of Tschaikowsky. He persuaded himself that Mrs. von Meck's announcement had been merely "an excuse to get rid of him on the first opportunity"; that he had been mistaken in idealizing his relations with his "best friend"; that his allowance had long since ceased to be the outcome of a generous impulse. "Such were my relations with her," he wrote at this time to a friend, "that I never felt oppressed by her generous gifts; but now they weigh upon me in retrospect. My pride is hurt; my faith in her unfailing readiness to help me, and to make any sacrifice for my sake, is betrayed." He thought of returning to her in full the money she had settled upon him, but feared to mortify her. He endeavored, both frankly and diplomatically, to renew their intercourse; but to no avail. She made no response whatever to his attempts to continue their relationship, either through letters or in response to overtures made by Tschaikowsky through mutual friends. He learned that she was ill--ill of "a terrible nervous disease, which changed her relations not only to him, but to others." Yet no illness, no misfortune, it seemed to him, could, as he wrote, "change the sentiments which were expressed in [her] letters."... "I would sooner," he declared, "have believed that the earth could fail beneath me than that our relations could suffer change. But the inconceivable has happened, and all my ideas of human nature, all my faith in the best of mankind, have been turned upside-down. My peace is broken, and the share of happiness fate has allotted me is embittered and spoiled." Two years later, on his death-bed, her name was constantly and feverishly on his lips, "in an indignant or reproachful tone," says Modeste. "... In the broken phrases of his last delirium these words alone were intelligible to those around him."[174] Nadeshda von Meck survived him by only two months. She died January 25, 1894.

The Fourth Symphony is closely bound up with this singular experience. Not only is it dedicated to Tschaikowsky's devoted benefactress, but he speaks of it repeatedly in his correspondence with her as "our" symphony. "May this music, which is so intimately associated with the thought of you," he wrote to her in November, 1877, "speak to you and tell you that I love you with all my heart and soul. O my best and incomparable friend!" That the symphony has a well-defined programme we know on the authority of the composer himself, though the score bears no descriptive title or prefatory note of any kind. Writing to Mrs. von Meck from Florence in March, 1878, Tschaikowsky sent this exposition of his music, which he accompanied with thematic illustrations:

"You ask if in composing this symphony I had a special programme in view.... For _our_ symphony there is a programme. That is to say, it is possible to express its contents in words, and I will tell you, and you alone, the meaning of the entire work and of its separate movements. Naturally, I can do so only as regards its general features.

"[I. _Andante sostenuto; Moderato con anima in movimento di valse_]

"The Introduction is the kernel, the quintessence, the chief thought of the whole symphony. [Tschaikowsky quotes the stern and threatening opening theme, announced by horns and bassoons, _Andante_.] This is Fate, the fatal power which hinders one in the pursuit of happiness from gaining the goal, which jealously provides that peace and comfort do not prevail, that the sky is not free from clouds--a might that swings, like the sword of Damocles, constantly over the head, that poisons continually the soul. This might is overpowering and invincible. There is nothing to do but to submit and vainly to complain. [Tschaikowsky quotes here the expressive theme for strings, _Moderato con anima_.] The feeling of despondency and despair grows ever stronger and more passionate. It is better to turn from the realities and to lull one's self in dreams. [Clarinet solo, accompanied by strings.] O joy! What a lovely and gentle dream! A radiant being, promising happiness, floats before me and beckons me on. The importunate first theme of the allegro is now heard afar off, and now the soul is wholly enwrapped with dreams. There is no thought of gloom and cheerlessness. Happiness! Happiness! Happiness!... No, they are only dreams, and Fate dispels them. The whole of life is only a constant alternation between dismal reality and flattering dreams of happiness. There is no port: you will be tossed hither and thither by the waves, until the sea swallows you. This, approximately, is the programme of the first movement.

"[II. _Andantino, in modo di canzona_]

"The second movement shows suffering in another stage. It is a feeling of melancholy such as fills one when one sits alone at home, exhausted by work; the book has slipped out of one's hand; a swarm of memories arise in one's mind. How sad that so much has been and is gone, and yet it is pleasant to think of the days of one's youth. We regret the past and have neither the courage nor the desire to begin a new life. We are weary of life. We wish refreshment, retrospection. We think of happy hours when our young blood still sparkled and effervesced and life brought satisfaction. We think of moments of sadness and irrepressible losses. But these things are far away, so far away! It is sad, yet sweet, to pore over the past.

"[III. _Scherzo, "Pizzicato ostinato": Allegro_]

"No definite feelings find expression in the third movement. These are capricious arabesques, intangible figures which flit through the fancy as if one had drunk wine and become slightly intoxicated. The mood is neither merry nor sad. We think of nothing, but give free rein to the fancy which humors itself in drafting the most singular lines. Suddenly there arises the memory of a drunken peasant and a ribald song.... Military music passes by in the distance. Such are the disconnected images which flit through the brain as one sinks into slumber. They have nothing to do with reality; they are incomprehensible, bizarre, fragmentary.

"[IV. _Finale: Allegro con fuoco_]

"Fourth movement. If you find no pleasure in yourself, look about you. Go to the folk. See how it understands to be jolly, how it surrenders itself to gaiety. The picture of a folk-holiday. Scarcely have you forgotten yourself, scarcely have you had time to be absorbed in the happiness of others, before untiring Fate again announces its approach. The other children of men are not concerned with you. They neither see nor feel that you are lonely and sad. How they enjoy themselves, how happy they are! And will you maintain that everything in the world is sad and gloomy? There is still happiness--simple, native happiness. Rejoice in the happiness of others--and you can still live.

"This is all that I can tell you, my dear friend, about the symphony...."

"MANFRED," SYMPHONY IN FOUR TABLEAUX: Op. 58

1. _Lento lugubre; andante_ 2. _Scherzo: Vivace con spirito_ 3. _Pastorale: Andante con moto_ 4. _Finale: Allegro con fuoco_

This symphony is frankly programme-music. It is not listed among Tschaikowsky's symphonies--where, in order of composition and opus number, it would stand between the Fourth (Op. 36, 1876-78) and the Fifth (Op. 64, 1888). "Manfred, Symphony in Four Tableaux, after the Dramatic Poem by Byron," was composed in 1885. The score contains the following preface, printed in French and Russian:

"I. Manfred wanders in the Alps. Tortured by the fatal anguish of doubt, racked by remorse and despair, his soul is a prey to sufferings without a name. Neither the occult science, whose mysteries he has probed to the bottom, and by means of which the gloomy powers of hell are subject to him, nor anything in the world can give him the forgetfulness to which alone he aspires. The memory of the fair Astarte, whom he has loved and lost, eats his heart. Nothing can dispel the curse which weighs on Manfred's soul; and without cessation, without truce, he is abandoned to the tortures of the most atrocious despair.

"II. The Fairy of the Alps appears to Manfred beneath the rainbow of the waterfall.

"III. Pastorale. Simple, free, and peaceful life of the mountaineers.

"IV. The underground palace of Arimanes. Manfred appears in the midst of a bacchanal. Invocation of the ghost of Astarte. She foretells him the end of his earthly woes. Manfred's death."[175]

I (_Lento lugubre; andante_)

Manfred's despair and anguish, his inextinguishable longing and remorse, his fruitless quest after forgetfulness, form the emotional and dramatic burden of this movement. Manfred's theme is heard at the beginning--a sombre and tragic motive for bassoons and bass clarinet. There are also musical symbols for his passionate appeal for oblivion, for his occult powers, and for the thought of Astarte. "The movement should not be considered as panoramic in any sense. There is no attempt to depict any special scene, to translate into music any particular soliloquy. It is the soul of Manfred that the composer wishes to portray."

II (_Scherzo: Vivace con spirito_)

This movement was suggested by the second scene of act two of Byron's drama, in which Manfred, beside the cataract, evokes the Witch of the Alps, tells her of Astarte and of his own remorse and longing, and--although she intimates that she may help him--rejects her aid; for he is not willing to swear obedience to her will. "As the scene in the poem may be regarded as a picturesque episode--for the incantation is fruitless and only one of many--so the music is a relief after the tumultuous passion and raging despair of the first movement. The vision of the dashing, glistening cataract continues until, with note of triangle and chord of harp, the rainbow is revealed." To the accompaniment of mysterious and ethereal harp tones Manfred conjures up the witch, "who rises beneath the arch of the sunbow of the torrent." Her song is suggested (violins and harps). There is a poignant reminiscence of Manfred's despair. "The glory of the cataract is once more seen. It pales as the theme of despair is heard again."

III (_Pastorale: Andante con moto_)

This scene is general in its suggestiveness; it has no definite connection with any particular scene in Byron's poem. The opening is idyllic, but the mood of the music is soon altered. Again we are reminded of Manfred's unalterable woe. Perhaps Tschaikowsky had in mind here a tense passage in the scene between Manfred and the Chamois-Hunter (Act II., Scene I.):

"MANFRED. Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? It doth; but actions are our epochs: mine Have made my days and nights imperishable, Endless, and all alike, as sands on the shore, Innumerable atoms; and one desert, Barren and cold, on which the wild waves break, But nothing rests, save carcasses and wrecks, Rocks, and the salt-surf weeds of bitterness.

"CHAMOIS-HUNTER. Alas! he's mad--but yet I must not leave him.

"MANFRED. I would I were--for then the things I see Would be but a distempered dream.

"CHAMOIS-HUNTER. What is it? That thou dost see, or think thou look'st upon?

"MANFRED. Myself, and thee--a peasant of the Alps-- Thy humble virtues, hospitable home, And spirit patient, pious, proud, and free; Thy self-respect, ingrained on innocent thoughts;

* * * * *

"This do I see--and then I look within-- It matters not--my soul was scorch'd already!"

IV (_Finale: Allegro con fuoco_)

This bacchanal in the underground palace of Arimanes is Tschaikowsky's own invention; there is no bacchanal, or suggestion of one, in the corresponding scene in Byron's poem, where Arimanes, seated on his throne of fire, is surrounded by spirits, who praise him in a worshipful hymn.

At the climax of the music's wild revelling the motive of despair is recalled; the music becomes uncanny, mysterious; we hear the theme of Manfred. Nemesis, who has entered the hall together with the Destinies, invokes the wraith of Astarte:

"MANFRED. Can this be death? there's bloom upon her cheek; But now I see it is no living hue, But a strange hectic--like the unnatural red Which Autumn plants upon the perish'd leaf. It is the same! O God! that I should dread To look upon the same--Astarte!--No, I cannot speak to her--but bid her speak-- Forgive me or condemn me.

* * * * *

"PHANTOM OF ASTARTE. Manfred!

"MANFRED. Say on, say on-- I live but in the sound--it is thy voice!

"PHANTOM. Manfred! To-morrow ends thine earthly ills. Farewell!

"MANFRED. Yet one word more--am I forgiven?

"PHANTOM. Farewell!

"MANFRED. Say, shall we meet again?

"PHANTOM. Farewell!

"MANFRED. One word for mercy! Say thou lovest me.

"PHANTOM. Manfred!" [_The Spirit of_ ASTARTE _disappears._]

"NEMESIS. She's gone, and will not be recall'd; Her words will be fulfill'd. Return to the earth.

"A SPIRIT. He is convulsed.--This is to be a mortal, And seek the things beyond mortality."

The music rises to a momentous and tragic climax. Manfred's death scene is brought before us. We are in the tower of his castle. Night approaches. The importunate demons have disappeared. Manfred and the Abbot are alone (Act III., Scene IV.):

"THE ABBOT. Alas! how pale thou art--thy lips are white-- And thy breast heaves--and in thy gasping throat The accents rattle. Give thy prayers to Heaven-- Pray--albeit but in thought--but die not thus.

"MANFRED. 'Tis over--my dull eyes can fix thee not; But all things swim around me, and the earth Heaves as it were beneath me. Fare thee well-- Give me thy hand.

"ABBOT. Cold--cold--even to the heart; But yet one prayer. Alas! how fares it with thee?

"MANFRED. Old man! 'tis not so difficult to die." [MANFRED _expires._]

"ABBOT. He's gone--his soul hath ta'en his earthless flight. Whither? I dread to think; but he is gone."

SYMPHONY No. 6, "PATHETIC": Op. 74

1. _Adagio; Allegro non troppo_ 2. _Allegro con grazia_ 3. _Allegro, molto vivace_ 4. _Finale: Adagio lamentoso_

Tschaikowsky wrote to Vladimir Davidoff on February 23, 1893:

"Just as I was starting on my journey [the visit to Paris in December, 1892] the idea came to me for a new symphony. This time with a programme; but a programme which should be a riddle to all--let them guess it who can! The work will be entitled 'A Programme Symphony' (No. 6). This programme is penetrated by subjective sentiment. During my journey, while composing it in my mind, I have often wept bitterly. Now that I am home again I have settled down to sketch out the work, and I work at it with such ardor that in less than four days I have finished the first movement, while the other movements are clearly outlined in my mind. There will be much, as regards the form, that will be novel in this work. For instance, the Finale will not be a boisterous Allegro, but, on the contrary, an extended Adagio." Six months later he wrote to Davidoff that the symphony was progressing, and that he considered it the best--especially "the most open-hearted"--of all his works. "I love it as I have never loved any of my musical offspring before." On August 24th he informed his publisher, Jurgenson, that he had finished orchestrating the symphony; nor did his opinion of it change. "It is indescribably beautiful," he wrote, in a fervor of enthusiasm, to his brother Modeste; and to the Grand-Duke Constantine he wrote, on October 3d: "Without exaggeration I have put my whole soul into this work." It was the last score but one upon which he was to work. Five weeks later he was dead.[176]

The symphony was produced at St. Petersburg on October 28th, when it made little impression; it was said that its inspiration "stood far below Tschaikowsky's other symphonies." It did not then bear the title "Pathetic." How it came to be so named is thus related by Modeste Tschaikowsky:

"The morning after the concert I found my brother sitting at the breakfast-table with the score of the symphony before him. He had agreed to send the score to Jurgenson [his publisher] that very day, but could not decide upon a title. He did not care to designate it merely by a number, and he had abandoned his original intention of entitling it 'A Programme Symphony.' 'What would _Programme Symphony_ mean,' he said, 'if I will not give the programme?' I suggested 'Tragic' Symphony as an appropriate title, but that did not please him. I left the room while he was still undecided. Suddenly 'Pathetic' occurred to me, and I went back to the room and suggested it. I remember, as though it were yesterday, how he exclaimed: 'Bravo, Modi, splendid! _Pathetic!_' And then and there he added to the score, in my presence, the title that will always remain."

What, precisely, was in Tschaikowsky's mind when he composed this "Programme Symphony"? According to Tschaikowsky's intimate friend Nicholas Kashkin, "if the composer had disclosed it to the public, the world would not have regarded the symphony as a kind of legacy from one filled with a presentiment of his own approaching end." To him it seems more reasonable "to interpret the overwhelming energy of the third movement and the abysmal sorrow of the Finale in the broader light of a national or historical significance, rather than to narrow them to the expression of an individual experience. If the last movement is intended to be predictive, it is surely of things vaster and issues more fatal than are contained in a mere personal apprehension of death. It speaks rather of a _lamentation large et souffrance inconnue_, and seems to set the seal of finality on all human hopes. Even if we eliminate the purely subjective interest, this autumnal inspiration of Tschaikowsky, in which we hear 'the ground whirl of the perished leaves of hope,' still remains the most profoundly stirring of his works."

No one has speculated with finer tact and sympathy concerning this extraordinary human document than has Mr. Philip Hale, whose meditations may well serve as a comment upon the character of the music:

"Each hearer has his own thoughts when he is 'reminded by the instruments.' To some this symphony is as the life of man. The story is to them of man's illusions, desires, loves, struggles, victories, and end. In the first movement they find, with the despair of old age and the dread of death, the recollection of early years, with the transports and illusions of love, the remembrance of youth and all that is contained in that word.

"The second movement might bear as a motto the words of the Third Kalandar in the _Thousand Nights and a Night_: 'And we sat down to drink, and some sang songs and others played the lute and psaltery and recorders and other instruments, and the bowl went merrily round. Hereupon such gladness possessed me that I forgot the sorrows of the world one and all, and said: "This is indeed life O sad that 'tis fleeting!'" The trio[177] is as the sound of the clock that in Poe's wild tale compelled even the musicians of the orchestra to pause momentarily in their performance, to hearken to the sound; 'and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions, and there was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while the chimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew pale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows as if in confused revery or meditation.' In this trio Death beats the drum. With Tschaikowsky, here, as in the 'Manfred' symphony, the drum is the most tragic of instruments. The persistent drum-beat in this trio is poignant in despair not untouched with irony. Man says: 'Come now, I'll be gay'; and he tries to sing and to dance and to forget. His very gaiety is labored, forced, constrained, in an unnatural rhythm. And then the drum is heard, and there is wailing, there is angry protest, there is the conviction that the struggle against Fate is vain. Again there is the deliberate effort to be gay, but the drum once heard beats in the ears forever.

"The third movement--the march-scherzo--is the excuse, the pretext, for the final lamentation. The man triumphs; he knows all that there is in earthly fame. Success is hideous, as Victor Hugo said. The blare of trumpets, the shouts of the mob, may drown the sneers of envy; but at Pompey passing Roman streets, at Tasso with the laurel wreath, at coronation of czar or inauguration of president, Death grins, for he knows the emptiness, the vulgarity, of what this world calls success.

"This battle-drunk, delirious movement must perforce precede the mighty wail--

"'The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armor against fate; Death lays his icy hands on kings.'"

The last movement--the prodigious _Adagio lamentoso_--moved Mr. Vernon Blackburn to a comparison with Shelley's "Adonais": "The precise emotions," he wrote, "down to a certain and extreme point, which inspired Shelley in his wonderful expression of grief and despair, also inspired the greatest of modern musicians since Wagner in his 'Swan Song'--his last musical utterance on earth. The first movement is the exact counterpart of those lines--

"'He will awake no more, oh, never more!-- Within the twilight chamber spreads apace The shadow of white Death....'

"As the musician strays into the darkness and into the miserable oblivion of death, ... Tschaikowsky reaches the full despair of those other lines--

"'We decay Like corpses in a charnel; fear and grief Convulse us and consume us day by day, And cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.'

"With that mysterious and desperate hopelessness the Russian comes to an end of his faith and anticipation.... For as ['life'], writes Shelley, 'like a many-colored dome of glass, stains the white radiance of eternity,' even so Tschaikowsky in this symphony has stained eternity's radiance: he has captured the years and bound them into a momentary emotional pang."

"THE VOYVODE,"[178] ORCHESTRAL BALLAD (Posthumous): Op. 78

Tschaikowsky composed _Le Voyvode_ at Tiflis in 1890, under the inspiration of a poem by the Polish poet Adam Mickiewicz (1798-1855). It is said that after the first performance of the work at Moscow in November, 1891, Tschaikowsky, disheartened over the cool reception of his music by the audience, and by the adverse criticism of his friends, "tore his score in pieces, exclaiming, 'Such rubbish should never have been written!'"[179] The orchestral parts are alleged to have been preserved, and the score restored from them. At all events, the work was published in 1897, four years after Tschaikowsky's death.

Mickiewicz's poem, in French and Russian, prefaces the score. It has been translated into English prose as follows:[180]

"The voyvode comes back from the war late at night. He orders silence, rushes toward the nuptial bed, draws aside the curtains. 'Tis, then, true! No one; the bed is empty.

"Darker than black night, he lowers his eyes shot with rage, twists his grizzling mustache; then, throwing back his long sleeves, he leaves, and bolts the door. 'Hallo, there,' he cries, 'Devil's food!'

"'Why do I not see at the gate bolts or watch dogs? Race of Ham! Quick, my gun; bring a sack, a cord, and take the carbine hanging on the wall. Follow me. I shall make known my vengeance on this woman!'

"The master and the young servant spy along the wall. They go into the garden and see through the bushes the young woman, all in white, seated near the fountain with a young man at her feet.

"He was saying: 'And so nothing is left to me of those former delights, of that which I so dearly loved! The sighs of your white breast, the pressure of your soft hand--these the voyvode has bought!

"'How many years did I sigh after you, how many years did I seek you, and you have renounced me! The voyvode did not seek you, he did not sigh for you--he made his money jingle and you gave yourself to him!

"'I have passed through the darkness of the night to see the eyes of my well-beloved, to press her soft hand, to wish her in her new dwelling many prosperous years, much joy, and then to leave her forever.'...

"The fair one wept and mourned; the young man embraced her knees; and the other two watched them through the bushes. They laid their guns on the ground; they took cartridges from their belts; they bit them and rammed them home.

"Then they crept up gently. 'Master, I cannot aim,' said the poor servant; 'is it the wind? But there are tears in my eyes--I tremble--my arms are growing weak; there is no priming powder in the pan'--

"'Be silent, slave; I'll teach you to whimper! Fill the pan--now aim--aim at the forehead of the false woman--more to the left--higher--I'll take care of the lover--hush--my turn first--wait!'

"The carbine-shot rang through the garden. The young servant could not wait. The voyvode screamed; the voyvode staggered. The servant's aim, it seems, was poor: the ball pierced the voyvode's forehead."

FOOTNOTES:

[163] Without opus number.

[164] The first of Tschaikowsky's programmatic orchestral works is the virtually unknown _Fatum_ ("Destiny"), to which are attached lines from a poem by Batioushkov. This work was composed in 1868, and produced at Moscow in March of the following year. Tschaikowsky destroyed the score "during the seventies"; but the orchestral parts were preserved, and the score was reconstructed from them and published in 1896. Batioushkov's lines were affixed to the score after its completion, on the eve of the concert at which the work was produced.

[165] See page 12 (foot-note).

[166] It is known that Tschaikowsky thought seriously of composing an opera based on the subject of "Romeo and Juliet." "The operas of Gounod and Bellini," he wrote in 1870, "do not frighten me"--Shakespeare, he truly observed, "is not to be found in them."

[167] This and the foregoing excerpt from Tschaikowsky's correspondence are from the translation by Mrs. Rosa Newmarch.

[168] This is Carlyle's concise epitome of the experience related by Dante in the fifth canto:

"The Second Circle, or proper commencement of Hell; and Minos, the Infernal Judge, at its entrance. It contains the Souls of Carnal Sinners; and their punishment consists in being driven about incessantly, in total darkness, by fierce winds. First among them comes Semiramis, the Babylonian queen. Dido, Cleopatra, Helena, Achilles, Paris, and a great multitude of others pass in succession. Dante is overcome and bewildered with pity at the sight of them, when his attention is suddenly attracted to two spirits that keep together and seem strangely light upon the wind. He is unable to speak for some time, after finding that it is Francesca da Rimini, with her lover Paolo; and falls to the ground, as if dead, after he has heard their painful story."

[169] Ravenna: "on the coast of that sea to which the Po, with all his streams from Alps to Apennines, descends to rest therein."

[170] Francesca was the daughter of Guido Vecchio da Polenta, lord of Ravenna. She was given in marriage to Giovanni (or Gianciotto) Malatesta, the eldest son of Malatesta Vecchio, tyrant of Rimini. Giovanni was called "_Lo Sciancato_"--"the lame," or "hipshot." Not only was he a cripple, but he was much older than Francesca, and of stern and forbidding temper. Some say that he secured Francesca for wife by trickery, she being led to suppose that Paolo ("_Il Bello_"), the young brother of Giovanni, "a handsome man, very pleasant and of courteous breeding," was her future husband; that she therefore permitted herself to love him, and did not learn of the deception until "the morning ensuing the marriage." Giovanni surprised his wife and his brother together, and killed them both--between the years 1287 and 1289, says Hieronymus Rubeus in the first edition of his _Hist. Ravennat._ (Venice, 1572); in a later edition (1603) the date is given as early in 1289. The lovers were buried in the same grave. Guido Novello, with whom Dante lived at Ravenna, was the son of Francesca's brother, Ostagio da Polenta, and from him, it is believed, Dante heard the tragic story.--L. G.

[171] "Lancelot of the Lake, in the old Romances of the Round Table, is described as the greatest knight of all the world; and his love for Queen Guenever, or Ginevra, is infinite. Galeotto, Gallehaut, or Sir Galahad, is he who gives such a detailed declaration of Lancelot's love to the queen; and is to them, in the romance, what the book and its author are here [in Dante's poem] to Francesca and Paolo."--J. A. CARLYLE.

[172] This is the culmination of the scene described by Francesca as it occurs in Mr. Stephen Phillip's drama, "Paolo and Francesca":

"FRANCESCA [_Reading_]. 'And Guenevere, Turning, beheld him suddenly whom she Loved in her thought, and even from that hour When first she saw him; for by day, by night, Though lying by her husband's side, did she Weary for Launcelot, and knew full well How ill that love, and yet that love how deep I cannot see--the page is dim; read you.

"PAOLO [_Reading_]. 'Now they two were alone, yet could not speak; But heard the beating of each other's hearts. He knew himself a traitor but to stay, Yet could not stir; she pale and yet more pale Grew till she could no more, but smiled on him. Then when he saw that wished smile, he came Near to her and still near, and trembled; then Her lips all trembling kissed.'

"FRANCESCA [_Drooping towards him_]. Ah, Launcelot! [_He kisses her on the lips._]"

[173] Nadeshda Filaretowna von Meck was born in the village of Znamensk, in the government of Smolensk, February 10, 1831. She was thus nine years older than Tschaikowsky. When her husband, an engineer, died, in 1876, she was left with eleven children and a very large fortune, although they had not always been rich. Modeste Tschaikowsky described her as "a proud and energetic woman, of strong convictions, with the mental balance and business capacity of a man; ... a woman who despised all that was petty, common-place, and conventional; ... absolutely free from sentimentality in her relations with others, yet capable of deep feeling, and of being completely carried away by what was lofty and beautiful."

[174] The passages quoted from Tschaikowsky's letters are given in Mrs. Rosa Newmarch's translation.

[175] Translated by Mr. Philip Hale.

[176] In the October before his death Tschaikowsky was busied with the orchestration of his third piano concerto, Op. 75, based on portions of a symphony which he began in May, 1892, but afterwards destroyed.

[177] See page 210 (foot-note).

[178] "Voyvode": in Russian, "a military commander, general, or governor of a province."

[179] The authorship of this story is attributed to the pianist Alexander Siloti, a pupil of Tschaikowsky.

[180] By Mr. Philip Hale.

WAGNER

(_Richard Wagner: born in Leipsic, May 22, 1813; died in Venice, February 13, 1883_)

"A 'FAUST' OVERTURE"[181]

Wagner, during his sojourn in Paris in 1840, wrote an orchestral piece which, as he relates, he called an "overture to Goethe's 'Faust,' but which was in reality intended for the first section of a grand 'Faust' symphony." The curious and interesting history of this work may best be told in excerpts from Wagner's correspondence with his devoted friend and benefactor, Franz Liszt. Liszt, to whom Wagner had sent the manuscript of the overture in 1848, wrote in 1852 (October 7th), some months after he had produced the overture at Weimar:[182]

"The work is quite worthy of you; but, if you will allow me to make a remark, I must confess that I should like either a second middle part or else a quieter and more agreeably colored treatment of the present middle part. The brass is a little too massive there, and--forgive my opinion--the motive in F is not satisfactory: it wants grace in a certain sense, and is a kind of hybrid thing, neither fish nor flesh, which stands in no proper relation of contrast to what has gone before and what follows, and in consequence impedes the interest. If instead of this you introduced a soft, tender, melodious part, modulated _à la_ Gretchen, I think I can assure you that your work would gain very much. Think this over, and do not be angry in case I have said something stupid."

To this Wagner responded (November 9, 1852): "You beautifully spotted the lie when I tried to make myself believe that I had written an overture to 'Faust.' You have felt quite justly what is wanting: the woman is wanting. Perhaps you would at once understand my tone-poem if I called it 'Faust in Solitude.' At that time I intended to write an entire 'Faust' symphony. The first movement, that which is ready, was this 'Solitary Faust,' longing, despairing, cursing. The 'feminine' floats around him as an object of his longing, but not in its divine reality; and it is just this insufficient image of his longing which he destroys in his despair. The second movement was to introduce Gretchen, the woman. I had a theme for her, but it was only a theme. The whole remains unfinished. I wrote my 'Flying Dutchman' instead. This is the whole explanation. If now, from a last remnant of weakness and vanity, I hesitate to abandon this 'Faust' work altogether, I shall certainly have to remodel it, but only as regards instrumental modulation. The theme which you desire I cannot introduce. This would naturally involve an entirely new composition, for which I have no inclination. If I publish it, I shall give it its proper title, 'Faust in Solitude,' or 'The Solitary Faust: a Tone-Poem for Orchestra.'"

He did not "abandon" it. Writing to Liszt from Zurich in January, 1855, he congratulated him on the completion of his "Faust" symphony, and added: "It is an absurd coincidence that just at this time I have been taken with a desire to remodel my old 'Faust' overture. I have made an entirely new score, have rewritten the instrumentation throughout, have made many changes, and have given more expansion and importance to the middle portion (second motive). I shall give it in a few days at a concert here, under the title of 'A "Faust" Overture.' The motto will be:

"'Der Gott, der mir im Busen wohnt, Kann tief mein Innerstes erregen; Der über allen meinen Kräften thront, Er kann nach aussen nichts bewegen; Und so ist mir das Dasein eine Last, Der Tod erwünscht, das Leben mir verhasst!'

--but I shall not publish it in any case."

This motto, which Wagner retained, has been translated as follows:[183]

"The God who dwells within my soul Can heave its depths at any hour; Who holds o'er all my faculties control Has o'er the outer world no power. Existence lies a load upon my breast, Life is a curse, and death a longed-for rest."

The overture, in its revised form, was produced in Zurich, January 23, 1855, at a concert of the _Allgemeine Musikgesellschaft_. Two days later, Liszt wrote to the composer: "You were quite right in arranging a new score of your overture. If you have succeeded in making the middle part a little more pliable, this work, significant as it was before, must have gained considerably. Be kind enough to have a copy made, and send it me _as soon as possible_. There will probably be some orchestral concerts here, and I should like to give this overture at the end of February."

Wagner sent the score, with a letter in which he said: "Herewith, dearest Franz, you receive my remodelled 'Faust' overture, which will appear very insignificant to you by the side of your 'Faust' symphony. To me the composition is interesting only on account of the time from which it dates; this reconstruction has again endeared it to me; and, with regard to the latter, I am childish enough to ask you to compare it very carefully with the first version, because I should like you to take cognizance of the effect of my experience and of the more refined feeling I have gained. In my opinion, new versions of this kind show most distinctly the spirit in which one has learned to work and the coarsenesses which one has cast off. You will be better pleased with the middle part. I was, of course, unable to introduce a new motive, because that would have involved a remodelling of almost the whole work; all I was able to do was to develop the sentiment a little more broadly, in the form of a kind of enlarged cadence. Gretchen, of course, could not be introduced, only Faust himself."[184]

"A SIEGFRIED IDYL"[185]

In the summer of 1870 (August 25th) Wagner was married at Lucerne, Switzerland, to Cosima, daughter of Franz Liszt and the Comtesse d'Agoult, and the divorced wife of Hans von Bülow.[186] Siegfried Wagner, the son of Richard and Cosima, was born at Triebschen, near Lucerne, June 6, 1869. In a letter dated June 25, 1870, two months before his marriage to Cosima, Wagner wrote to a friend: "She [Cosima] has defied every disapprobation and taken upon herself every condemnation. She has borne to me a wonderfully beautiful and vigorous boy, whom I could boldly call 'Siegfried': he is now growing, together with my work, and gives me a new, long life [Wagner was then fifty-seven years old], which at last has attained a meaning. Thus we get along without the world, from which we have retired entirely.... But now listen; you will, I trust, approve of the sentiment which leads us to postpone our visit until I can introduce to you the mother of my son as my wedded wife."[187]

Cosima, according to Lina Ramann, was born (in Bellagio) "at Christmas," 1837. The "Siegfried Idyl" was written by Wagner as a birthday gift to his wife, and it was first performed December 24, 1871, as an _aubade_, on the steps of Wagner's villa at Triebschen; the orchestra was a small group of players gathered from the neighborhood. Hans Richter played the trumpet, and Wagner himself conducted.

The themes out of which the "Idyl" is evolved are, with a single exception, motives from the _Nibelungen_ music-drama "Siegfried,"[188] upon which Wagner was engaged when his son was born; the exception is a German cradle-song, _Schlaf, Kindchen, balde, Vöglein flieg'n im Walde_.

Wagner dedicated the work to his wife in verses which have been translated as follows:

"Thy sacrifices have shed blessings o'er me, And to my work have given noble aim, And in the hour of conflict have upbore me, Until my labor reached a sturdy frame. Oft in the land of legends we were dreaming-- Those legends which contain the Teuton's fame, Until a son upon our lives was beaming, Siegfried must be our youthful hero's name.

"For him and thee I now in tones am praising; What thanks for deeds of love could better be? Within our souls the grateful song upraising Which in this music I have now set free. And in this cadence I have held, united, Siegfried, our dearly cherished son, and thee. Thus all the harmonies I now am bringing But speak the thought which in my heart is ringing."

FOOTNOTES:

[181] Without opus number.

[182] The first performance of the overture in its original form was in Dresden, July 22, 1844, at a concert in the pavilion of the _Grosser Garten_.

[183] By Mr. Charles T. Brooks.

[184] These passages from the Wagner-Liszt correspondence are from the English version by Francis Hueffer.

[185] Without opus number.

[186] Cosima married von Bülow in Berlin, August 18, 1857; they were divorced in the autumn of 1869.

[187] From Finck's _Wagner and His Works_.

[188] These motives are: (1) The "Peace" motive, from the love scene in the third act, first heard at _Brünnhilde's_ words: _Ewig wär ich, ewig bin ich, ewig in süss sehnender Wonne--doch ewig zu deinem Heil!_ ("I have been forever, I am forever, ever in sweet yearning rapture--but ever to thy salvation!"); (2) a portion of the "Slumber" motive (first heard in "Die Walküre"); (3) a theme of two descending notes taken from _Brünnhilde's_ cry (in the love scene): _O Siegfried! Siegfried! sieh' meine Angst!_ ("O Siegfried, Siegfried, behold my terror!"); (4) the "Treasure of the World" motive, accompanying _Brünnhilde's_ apostrophe: _O Siegfried, Herrlicher! Hort der Welt!_ ("O Siegfried, glorious one! Treasure of the world!"); (5) Siegfried's "Wander" motive, first heard in Act I., where the son of Siegmund exuberantly announces to Mime that he is going forth into the world, never to return; (6) fragments of the bird-call from the _Waldweben_ in the second act; and (7) the figure which accompanies Siegfried's ecstatic words near the climax of the love scene: _Ein herrlich Gewässer wogt vor mir_ ("a wondrous sea surges before me").

WOLF

(_Hugo Wolf: born in Windischgräz, Steiermark, Austria, March 13, 1860; died in Vienna, February 22, 1903_)

"PENTHESILEA," SYMPHONIC POEM[189]

This symphonic poem is based on the tragedy of like name by Heinrich von Kleist.[190] The action of Von Kleist's drama is, in outline, as follows: The Amazons, under the leadership of their queen, Penthesilea, go forth to attack the Greeks besieging Troy, hoping that they may celebrate at Themiscyra, with the young men whom they shall capture, the Feast of Roses. The law of the Amazons requires that only those whom they have overcome in conquest may celebrate with them at the festival; therefore, when Penthesilea encounters in battle the surpassingly beautiful Achilles, she perforce attacks him, for she is ravished by love of him. He bests her in the fight, but she is rescued by her sister warriors. Achilles learns that, should he permit her to overcome him, he might possess her. He plans to engage her single-handed, and allow her to conquer him. Penthesilea's suspicions are aroused; she becomes convinced of his trickery. Her consuming love is transformed into consuming and vengeful hate. She slays him, and, together with her hounds, rends his flesh and exults lustfully in his blood. When her frenzy--which is as the frenzy of Wilde's "Salome"--is at last appeased, she stabs herself and sinks upon the body of her lover.

Dr. Kuno Francke finds in the figure of the Amazon queen an image of Kleist's own soul--"a soul," he writes in his _History of German Literature_, "inspired with titanic daring, driven by superhuman desire, bent on conquering Eternity. When the conviction first dawned upon Kleist that the whole of truth is beyond human reach, all life henceforth seemed worthless to him. When Penthesilea, instead of vanquishing the beloved hero, is overcome by him, even his love is hateful to her. The ideal which she cannot fully and without reserve make hers she must destroy. The god in her having been killed, the beast awakes. And thus, immediately after that enchanting scene where the lovers, for the first time and the last, have been revelling in mutual surrender and delight, she falls like a tigress upon the unsuspecting and weaponless man; with the voluptuousness of despair, she sends the arrow through his breast; she lets the hounds loose upon him as he dies, and together with the hounds she tears his limbs and drinks his blood, until, at last, brought back to her senses, and realizing what she has done, she sinks into the arms of death--a character so atrocious and so ravishing, so monstrous and so divine, so miraculous and so true, as no other poet ever has created."

Although Wolf's symphonic poem is not provided with a programme, there are in the score explanatory titles for its main (connected) divisions. These titles have been annotated in German as follows (the translation is that published in the programme books of the Chicago Orchestra in April, 1904, at the time of the first American performance of the work):[191]

"I "THE DEPARTURE OF THE AMAZONS FOR TROY

"Amid great tumult the fierce warriors prepare to set out on their campaign, Penthesilea in command--as is symbolized by her personal motive, which will be heard above the clashing of weapons and the shrieking of war-cries. In exultation the army assembles, the queen dashing to the front to lead in the march, which begins with a flourish of trumpets. A contrasting intermediary section leads to a resumption of the march movement, the latter dying away as the Amazons, having reached their destination, go into night encampment--as represented by the subdued rolls of the kettle-drums, with which the movement concludes.

"II "PENTHESILEA'S DREAM OF THE FEAST OF ROSES

"As she slumbers, Penthesilea's dreams carry her beyond the battle impending to the prize which awaits her after the victory. Over mysterious arpeggios in the violas, the flutes, oboes, and violins begin a melody in which one recognizes Penthesilea, transformed into a gentle, loving woman. The dream-picture becomes more and more vivid, until all of a sudden the sleeper awakens.

"III "COMBATS, PASSIONS, FRENZY, ANNIHILATION

"Once aroused, Penthesilea is the ferocious warrior again; challenged by the foe, she rides forth to battle. But straightway a conflict of the emotions is suggested by the interweaving of two motives--one being mentioned as denoting Penthesilea's determination to conquer, and the other as expressive of the yearnings of her heart; their combined development--descriptive of their struggle for supremacy--mounting presently to a full-orchestra climax, from which the motive of 'yearning' emerges in certain wood-wind instruments over a subdued tremolo of the violas. But the desire for conquest soon gains the upper hand again, leading to a dramatic climax which brings to notice the motive of annihilation in the trombones--opposed by the violins and wood-wind with a distorted version of the Penthesilea motive. The tumult subsides through a picturesque _diminuendo_, beautified by an expressive viola solo and leading to the reappearance of Penthesilea, now tranquillized and gentle. But this mood does not last long; the orchestra, passing from animation to agitation, shortly setting up a great shriek of anguish; following which a chromatic flourish leads to a repetition of 'The Departure of the Amazons.' But now Penthesilea goes not forth to any common struggle, nor does any dream of happiness beckon her from beyond the victory. Revenge and destruction are now her only purpose. With redoubled ferocity the situation mounts to its tragic climax, which culminates in a frightful screech. Then a pause; her anger spent, the unhappy queen appears once more, her face no longer disfigured with passion, but glowing with yearning and love. Thus, in ecstasy and anguish, her young life goes out in a sigh."

FOOTNOTES:

[189] Without opus number.

[190] Heinrich von Kleist was born at Frankfort-on-the-Oder, October 18, 1777; he died, by his own hand, at Wannsee, near Potsdam, November 21, 1811.

[191] The programme books of the Chicago Orchestra for that year were edited by Mr. Hubbard William Harris.

_INDEX OF WORKS AND COMPOSERS_

A

_"Adonais," Overture_, 51, 52.

_"Afternoon of a Faun, The," Prelude to_, 73-75.

_"Also Sprach Zarathustra," Tone-Poem_, 275-285.

_"Antar," Symphony_, 222-226.

_"Aus Italia," Fantasy_, 259-261.

B

Bantock, Granville, 11-18.

_"Battle of the Huns, The," Symphonic Poem_, 155-157.

Beethoven, Ludwig van, 19-30.

Berlioz, Hector, 31-41.

Bizet, Georges, 43-47.

_"Blanik," Symphonic Poem_, 253.

_"Böcklin" Symphony_, 131-136.

C

_"Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage," Overture_ (see _"Becalmed at Sea and Prosperous Voyage"_), 202, 203.

_"Carnival," Overture_, 87-89.

Chadwick, George W., 49-55.

Charpentier, Gustave, 57-59.

Chausson, Ernest, 61-64.

_"Christmas Eve," Suite_, 231-234.

_"Cleopatra," Symphonic Poem_, 53-55

_"Cockaigne," Overture_, 96-98.

_"Consecration of Sound, The," Symphony_, 255-258.

Converse, Frederick S., 65-72.

_"Coriolanus," Overture to_, 24, 25.

D

_"Dance in the Village Tavern, The," Episode (No. II.) from Lenau's "Faust"_, 174, 175.

_"Dance of Death," Symphonic Poem_, 237, 238.

_"Danse Macabre," Symphonic Poem_, 237, 238.

_"Dante's 'Divina Commedia,' Symphony after"_, 164-173.

_"Death and Transfiguration," Tone-Poem_, 266-269.

_"Death of Tintagiles, The," Symphonic Poem_, 177-182.

Debussy, Claude, 73-78.

_"Der Nächtliche Zug," Episode (No I.) from Lenau's "Faust"_, 173, 174.

_"Der Tanz in der Dorfschenke," Episode (No. II.) from Lenau's "Faust"_, 174, 175.

_"Devil's Villanelle, The," Fantasia_, 184-187.

_"Die Ideale," Symphonic Poem_, 157-161.

_"Die Sarazenen," Symphonic Fragment_, 194, 195.

_"Die Schöne Aldâ," Symphonic Fragment_, 195, 196.

_"Die Weihe der Töne," Symphony_, 255-258.

_"Djinns, The," Symphonic Poem_, 113, 114.

_"Domestic Symphony"_, 297-302.

_"Don Juan," Tone-Poem_, 261-264.

_"Don Quixote," Variations_, 285-292.

_"Dream Children," Two Pieces_, 98-100.

Dukas, Paul, 79-84.

Dvořák, Anton, 85-93.

E

_"Egmont," Overture to_, 27-30.

_"Eine Faust Ouvertüre"_, 339-343.

_"Eine Faust Symphonie"_, 161-164.

_"Ein Heldenleben," Tone-Poem_, 292-297.

Elgar, Edward, 95-104.

_"Enchanted Forest, The," Legend_, 137, 138.

_"Endymion's Narrative," Romance_, 67, 68.

_"Enigma" Variations_, 95-98.

_"Episodes, Two, from Lenau's 'Faust',"_ 173-175.

_"Eroica" Symphony_, 19-24.

_"Euphrosyne," Overture_, 70.

_"Euterpe," Overture_, 52, 53.

F

_Fantasia, "Francesca da Rimini"_, 308-316.

_Fantasia, "The Tempest"_, 305-308.

_"Fantastic" Symphony_, 34-36.

_"'Faust,' Lenau's, Two Episodes from"_, 173-175.

_"Faust Overture, A"_, 339-343.

_"Faust Symphony, A"_, 161-164.

_"Festival of Pan, The," Romance_, 65, 66.

_"Festklänge," Symphonic Poem_, 154, 155.

_"Fingal's Cave" ["The Hebrides"], Overture_, 200-202.

_"Francesca da Rimini," Fantasia_, 308-316.

Franck, César, 105-114.

_"From Bohemia's Fields and Groves," Symphonic Poem_, 253.

_"From Italy," Fantasia_, 259-261.

_"From the New World," Symphony_, 92, 93.

G

Glazounoff, Alexander, 115-118.

Goldmark, Karl, 119-122.

Grieg, Edvard, 123-126.

H

Hadley, Henry K., 127-130.

_"Hamlet"; "Ophelia," Symphonic Poem_, 198.

_"Harold in Italy," Symphony_, 36-41.

_"Hebrides, The," ["Fingal's Cave"], Overture_, 200-202.

_"Hero's Life, A," Tone-Poem_, 292-297.

Huber, Hans, 131-136.

_"Hunnenschlacht," Symphonic Poem_, 155-157.

I

_"Ideal, The," Symphonic Poem_, 157-161.

_"Idyl, A Siegfried"_, 343-345.

_"Impressions of Italy," Suite_, 57-59.

_"Im Walde," Symphony_, 213-216.

_"In der Natur," Overture_, 85-87.

_"Indian" Suite_, 196, 197.

d'Indy, Vincent, 137-144.

_"In the South," Overture_, 101-104.

_"In the Woods," Symphony_, 213-216.

_"Istar," Symphonic Variations_, 139-141.

_"Italian" Symphony_, 208-211.

J

_"Jour d'été à la montagne," Tone-Poem_, 141-144.

K

_"King Lear," Overture to_, 31-33.

_"Kremlin, The," Symphonic Picture_, 117, 118.

L

_"La Bonne Chanson" ["Poem"], Tone-Poem_, 182-184.

_"La Forêt Enchantée," Legende_, 137, 138.

_"La Jeunesse d'Hercule," Symphonic Poem_, 238, 239.

_"La Mer," Three Sketches_, 77, 78.

_"La Mort de Tintagiles," Symphonic Poem_, 177-182.

_"Lancelot and Elaine," Symphonic Poem_, 191-194.

_"L'Apprenti Sorcier," Scherzo_, 79-84.

_"L'Après-Midi d'un Faune, Prelude à"_, 73-75.

_"L'Arlésienne," Suite_, 43-47.

_"La Villanelle du Diable," Fantasia_, 184-187.

_"Le Chasseur Maudit," Symphonic Poem_, 106, 107.

_"Lemminkainen's Home-Faring," Symphonic Poem_, 249, 250.

_"Lemminkainen," Symphonic Poem_, 247-250.

_"Lenau's 'Faust,' Two Episodes from"_, 173-175.

_"Lenore," Symphony_, 216-220.

_"Le Rouet d'Omphale," Symphonic Poem_, 235, 236.

_"Les Éolides," Symphonic Poem_, 105, 106.

_"Les Préludes," Symphonic Poem_, 147, 148.

_"Le Voyvode," Orchestral Ballad_, 335-337.

Liszt, Franz, 145-175.

Loeffler, Charles Martin, 177-189.

_"Lovely Aldâ, The"_, 195, 196.

_"Lovely Melusina, The," Overture_, 203-206.

M

_"Macbeth," Tone-Poem_, 264-266.

MacDowell, Edward, 191-198.

_"Manfred," Overture to_, 243-245.

_"Manfred," Symphony_, 323-329.

_"Mazeppa," Symphonic Poem_, 151-154.

_"Meeresstille und Glückliche Fahrt," Overture_, 202-203.

_"Melpomene," Overture_, 49-51.

_"Melusina, The Lovely," Overture_, 203-206.

Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, Felix 199-211.

_"Mephisto Waltz," Episode (No. II.) from Lenau's "Faust"_, 174, 175.

_"Mer, La"_, 77, 78.

_"Midsummer Night's Dream, A," Overture to_, 199, 200.

_"Mlada"_ (see _"Night on Mount Triglav, A"_), 229, 230.

_"My Fatherland," Cycle of Symphonic Poems_, 251-253.

_"Mystic Trumpeter, The," Fantasy_, 70-72.

N

_"Nature, Life, Love," Triple Overture_, 85-91.

_"Nature" Overture_, 85-87.

_"New World, From the," Symphony_, 92, 93.

_"Night" and "Day," Two Poems_, 68-70.

_"Night on Mount Triglav, A" (from the Opera-Ballet "Mlada")_, 229, 230.

_"Nocturnal Procession, The," Episode (No. I.) from Lenau's "Faust"_, 173, 174.

_"Nocturnes, Three"_, 75-77.

O

_"October, In," Supplement to Suite No. I._, 198.

_"Omphale's Spinning-Wheel," Symphonic Poem_, 235, 236.

_"Orpheus," Symphonic Poem_, 148-150.

_"Othello," Overture_, 89-91.

_Overture, "Adonais"_, 51, 52.

_Overture, "Becalmed at Sea and Prosperous Voyage"_, 202, 203.

_Overture, "Carnival"_, 87-89.

_Overture, "Cockaigne"_, 96-98.

_Overture, "Euphrosyne"_, 70.

_Overture, "Euterpe"_, 52, 53.

_"Overture, Faust, A"_, 339-343.

_Overture, "Fingal's Cave" ["The Hebrides"]_, 200-202.

_Overture, "In the South"_, 101-104.

_Overture, "Lovely Melusina, The"_, 203-206.

_Overture, "Meeresstille und Glückliche Fahrt"_, 202-206.

_Overture, "Melpomene"_, 49-51.

_Overture, "Midsummer Night's Dream, A"_, 199, 200.

_Overture, "Nature"_, 85-87.

_Overture, "Othello"_, 89-91.

_Overture-Fantasie, "Romeo and Juliet"_, 303-305.

_Overture, "Sakuntala"_, 119, 120.

_"Overture, Triple"_, 85-91.

_Overture to "Coriolanus"_, 24, 25.

_Overture to "Egmont"_, 27-30.

_Overture to "King Lear"_, 31-33.

_Overture to "Manfred"_, 243-245.

P

_"Pagan Poem, A"_, 187-189.

_"Pastoral" Symphony_, 25, 27.

_"Pathetic" Symphony_, 329-335.

_"Peer Gynt," Suite_, 123-126.

_"Penthesilea," Symphonic Poem_, 347-351.

_"Phaëton," Symphonic Poem_, 236, 237.

_"Poem" ["La Bonne Chanson"]_, 182-184.

_Prelude, "Sappho"_, 15-18.

_"Preludes, The," Symphonic Poem_, 147, 148.

_Prelude to "The Afternoon of a Faun"_, 73-75.

_"Psyche," Suite_, 108-113.

R

Raff, Joachim, 213-220.

Rimsky-Korsakoff, Nicolas Andrejevitch, 221-234.

_"Romeo and Juliet," Overture-Fantasie_, 303-305.

_"Rustic Wedding" Symphony_, 120-122.

S

_"Sadko," a Musical Picture_, 221, 222.

Saint-Saëns, Camille, 235-239.

_"Sakuntala," Overture_, 119, 120.

_"Salome," Tone-Poem_, 127-130.

_"Sappho," Prelude_, 15-18.

_"Saracens, The"_, 194, 195.

_"Sárka," Symphonic Poem_, 252, 253.

_"Saugefleurie," Legend_, 138, 139.

_"Scheherazade," Suite_, 226-229.

Schumann, Robert, 241-245.

_"Scotch" Symphony_, 206-208.

_"Sea, The," Three Sketches_, 77, 78.

_"Siegfried Idyl, A"_, 343-345.

Sibelius, Jan, 247-250.

_Sinfonia Eroica_, 19-24.

Smetana, Friedrich, 251-253.

_"Song of Roland, The," Two Fragments after_, 194-196.

_"Sorcerer's Apprentice, The," Scherzo_, 79-84.

Spohr, Louis, 255-258.

_"Spring" Symphony_ [Schumann], 241-243.

_"Stenka Râzine," Symphonic Poem_, 115-117.

Strauss, Richard, 259-302.

_Suite, "Christmas Eve"_, 231-234.

_Suite, "Impressions of Italy"_, 57-59.

_Suite, "Indian"_, 196, 197.

_Suite, "L'Arlésienne"_, 43-47.

_Suite No. I. (Op. 42)_, MacDowell, 198.

_Suite, "Peer Gynt"_, 123-126.

_Suite, "Psyche"_, 108-113.

_Suite, "Scheherazade"_, 226-229.

_"Summer Day on the Mountain," Tone-Poem_, 141-144.

_"Swan of Tuonela, The," Symphonic Poem_, 248, 249.

_Symphonic Poem, "Battle of the Huns, The"_, 155-157.

_Symphonic Poem, "Blanik"_, 253.

_Symphonic Poem, "Cleopatra"_, 53-55.

_Symphonic Poem, "Dance of Death"_, 237, 238.

_Symphonic Poem, "Danse Macabre"_, 237, 238.

_Symphonic Poem, "Death of Tintagiles, The"_, 177-182.

_Symphonic Poem, "Die Ideale"_, 157-161.

_Symphonic Poem, "Djinns, The"_, 113, 114.

_Symphonic Poem, "Festklänge"_, 154, 155.

_Symphonic Poem, "From Bohemia's Fields and Groves"_, 253.

_Symphonic Poem, "Hamlet"; "Ophelia"_, 198.

_Symphonic Poem, "Hunnenschlacht"_, 155-157.

_Symphonic Poem, "Ideal, The"_, 157-161.

_Symphonic Poem, "La Jeunesse d'Hercule"_, 238, 239.

_Symphonic Poem, "La Mort de Tintagiles"_, 177-182.

_Symphonic Poem, "Lancelot and Elaine"_, 191-194.

_Symphonic Poem, "Lemminkainen"_, 247-250.

_Symphonic Poem, "Le Rouet d'Omphale"_, 235, 236.

_Symphonic Poem, "Les Éolides"_, 105, 106.

_Symphonic Poem, "Les Préludes"_, 147, 148.

_Symphonic Poem, "Mazeppa"_, 151-154.

_Symphonic Poem, "Omphale's Spinning-Wheel"_, 235, 236.

_Symphonic Poem, "Orpheus"_, 148-150.

_Symphonic Poem, "Penthesilea"_, 347-351.

_Symphonic Poem, "Phaëton"_, 236, 237.

_Symphonic Poem, "Preludes, The"_, 147, 148.

_Symphonic Poem, "Sadko"_, 221, 222.

_Symphonic Poem, "Sárka"_, 252, 253.

_Symphonic Poem, "Stenka Râzine"_, 115-117.

_Symphonic Poem, "Tabor"_, 253.

_Symphonic Poem, "Tasso"_, 145-147.

_Symphonic Poem, "Viviane"_, 61-64.

_Symphonic Poem, "Vltava"_, 252.

_Symphonic Poem, "Vysehrad"_, 251, 252.

_Symphonic Poem, "Wild Huntsman, The"_, 106, 107.

_Symphonic Poem, "Wood Dove, The"_, 91, 92.

_Symphonic Poem, "Youth of Hercules, The"_, 238, 239.

_"Symphony, A Faust"_, 161-164.

_Symphony after Dante's "Divina Commedia"_, 164-173.

_Symphony, "Antar"_, 222-226.

_Symphony ["Böcklin"]_, Huber, 131-136.

_Symphony, "Consecration of Sound, The"_, 255-258.

_Symphony, "Die Weihe der Töne"_, 255-258.

_Symphony, "Domestic"_, 297-302.

_Symphony, "Fantastic"_, 34-36.

_Symphony, "From the New World"_, 92, 93.

_Symphony, "Harold in Italy"_, 36-41.

_Symphony, "Im Walde"_, 213-216.

_Symphony, "In the Woods"_, 213-216.

_Symphony, "Italian"_, 208-211.

_Symphony, "Lenore"_, 216-220.

_Symphony, "Manfred"_, 323-329.

_Symphony, "Pastoral"_, 25-27.

_Symphony, "Pathetic"_, 329-335.

_Symphony, "Rustic Wedding"_, 120-122.

_Symphony, "Scotch"_, 206-208.

_Symphony, No. 1, B-flat Major ["Spring"]_, Schumann, 241-243.

_Symphony No. 4, F Minor_, Tschaikowsky, 316-323.

T

_"Tabor," Symphonic Poem_, 253.

_"Tasso," Symphonic Poem_, 145-147.

_"Tempest, The," Fantasia_, 305-308.

_"Thus Spake Zarathustra," Tone-Poem_, 275-285.

_"Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks"_, 269-275.

_"Tintagiles, The Death of," Symphonic Poem_, 177-182.

_"Tod und Verklärung," Tone-Poem_, 266-269.

_Tone-Poem, "Also Sprach Zarathustra"_, 275-285.

_Tone-Poem, "Death and Transfiguration"_, 266-269.

_Tone-Poem, "Don Juan"_, 261-264.

_Tone-Poem, "Ein Heldenleben"_, 292-297.

_Tone-Poem, "Hero's Life, A"_, 292-297.

_Tone-Poem, "Macbeth"_, 264-266.

_Tone-Poem, "Salome"_, 127-130.

_Tone-Poem, "Thus Spake Zarathustra"_, 275-285.

_Tone-Poem, "Tod und Verklärung"_, 266-269.

_Tone-Poem, "Witch of Atlas, The"_, 11-15.

_"Triple Overture"_, 85-91.

_"Trois Nocturnes"_, 75-77.

Tschaikowsky, Peter Iljitsch, 303-337.

_"Two Episodes from Lenau's 'Faust',"_ 173-175.

V

_Variations, "Enigma"_, 95-98.

_"Villanelle du Diable, La"_, 184-187.

_"Viviane," Symphonic Poem_, 61-64.

_"Vltava," Symphonic Poem_, 252.

_"Voyvode, The," Orchestral Ballad_, 335-337.

_"Vysehrad," Symphonic Poem_, 251, 252.

W

Wagner, Richard, 330-345.

_"Wild Huntsman, The," Symphonic Poem_, 106, 107.

_"Wild Sage" ["Saugefleurie"] Legend_, 138, 139.

_"Witch of Atlas, The," Tone-Poem_, 11-15.

Wolf, Hugo, 347-351.

_"Wood Dove, The," Symphonic Poem_, 91, 92.

Y

_"Youth of Hercules, The," Symphonic Poem_, 238, 239.

THE END

* * * * *

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:

Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

A number of words in this book have both hyphenated and non-hyphenated variants. For the words with both variants present the one more used has been kept.

Obvious punctuation and other printing errors have been corrected.

End of Project Gutenberg's Stories of Symphonic Music, by Lawrence Gilman