France. It will be recalled that Chapter VIII treats of the flourishing conditions of musical art in France at the time when it was undergoing a series of metamorphoses that embodied nascent modern tendencies. The standard of sacred music was being elevated by Cherubini; French opera in serious vein as well as French instrumentation had acquired distinctly indigenous characteristics through the efforts of two native composers, MÉhul and Lesueur; the development of the lighter lyric style as bequeathed by GrÉtry lay in the hands of the Frenchmen Boieldieu, Auber, HÉrold, HalÉvy; finally, a renewed interest for grand opera was awakened by the so-called historic school of Spontini, which was followed by the enthusiastic reception of Rossini's melodious and emotional productions, and of Meyerbeer's sensational and spectacular presentations. Of momentous purport was the influence that these three foreigners, Spontini, Rossini, and Meyerbeer exerted upon French orchestration. Meanwhile an absolutely novel aspect of musical activity was being developed by Berlioz, who, as one of the founders of the "New Movement," has already been treated in Chapter XI in connection with Liszt and Wagner. In resuming and concluding the topic now under discussion, it would be well to keep the above brief review clearly in mind, in order that the simultaneous evolution of musical art in France and Germany may the better be compared.

With the exception of Berlioz, FÉlicien David and Gounod, few French writers have, until recently, applied themselves to independent orchestral music as one of the primary objects of their ambition. In France, the operatic stage ever has been and still is the centre of attraction. Even the most recent of her composers can with difficulty be separated into distinct groups that shall represent exclusive devotion to dramatic writing only or to sacred music or to concert works. Nevertheless, the present writer, having attempted to bring order out of the rather heterogeneous array of nineteenth century French composers, has classified them according to that particular branch in which they have been conspicuously successful.

II.

Prominent contributors to instrumental and orchestral music are Onslow, Reber, David, Franck, Lalo, Reyer, Godard, d'Indy.

Onslow (1784) enjoyed an honorable reputation during his lifetime as an exponent of classic models. He was a prolific writer of chamber music, but his style, though correct, was cold, and his three comic operas are of small importance. Reber (1807) may be regarded as the successor of Onslow in that he also restricted himself to traditional forms. He was an excellent contrapuntist as well as one of the most cultured musicians France has produced; as a result, his compositions reflect the refinement of his character. Moreover, his conservative and careful style was modelled after that of the German classicists, and the constitution of his orchestra is like Mozart's. Practically all modern instruments, all instruments of percussion excepting kettle-drums, and even trombones are excluded from most of his orchestral works. He wrote four symphonies, one overture and one suite, besides chamber and salon music in various forms.

Although FÉlicien David (1810) is best known to the general public on account of his opera "Lalla Rookh," he was at his best as an exponent of graceful and buoyant instrumentation. Not that his orchestration can be regarded as epoch-making when compared with that of his contemporary, Berlioz, for of the two, David was the more faithful to French traditions, and his scoring is more like that of Haydn than any other French composer. On the other hand, David, like Berlioz, introduced certain scenic qualities into his orchestration, which is ever poetic, supple, and varied. Berlioz's aim was to re-echo the thoughts of the grand romantic poets, whereas David was par excellence a dreamer in the realm of picturesque imagination, of tender love, of ardent passion. In consequence of his extensive journey through the East as an apostle and missionary of Saint-Simonism, David acquired an insight and knowledge of Oriental melodies that caused him to be the first to introduce genuinely Eastern characteristics into Western music, as strikingly displayed in "Lalla Rookh." The effectiveness of this opera is largely due to its fine orchestration, for though the musical contents are clear and simple, the ideas themselves occasionally lack force, whereas the harmonies are somewhat meagre. However, David possessed, in addition to the characteristic feature of clearness, a highly developed talent for artistic disposition of his plans, for poetic picture-painting, and for rich and descriptive orchestral color. Of especial significance is his aptitude for accompanying a solo voice with daintily embroidered counterpoint. David contributed substantially to the development in France of independent orchestral music, and displayed, among other things, a commendable appreciation for well-marked rhythmic effects. His list of instrumental works includes a symphony in F, twenty-four string quintets, and two nonets for wind instruments.

CÉsar Franck (1822) might be compared in two respects with Cherubini. Both of them, though foreigners, are rated as French composers, and the dignity and solidity of their respective styles isolate them both from the more usual methods of their respective eras. Franck differs from his French contemporaries by reason of what might be termed the masculine severity of his inspiration, together with monumental mastery of polyphonic design and exhaustless command of orchestral resources. These attributes have earned him the title of "The French Bach." The opera "Hulda" is a forceful exposition of the gloomy Viking subject, but Franck rose to the height of his creative power in his chamber music, and in the symphonic poem with chorus: "Les bÉatitudes." That he was influenced by Liszt and Wagner is undeniable. Not only do his productions give evidence of a reserved use of guiding themes, but also his orchestration has affinity to that of "Tristan" so far as intricacy is concerned.

This mention of Wagnerian influence suggests an interesting comparison between the styles of CÉsar Franck and of Lalo (1823). The latter was a professed admirer of Wagner, and applied such of his theories as are restricted to "TannhÄuser" and "Lohengrin." This is particularly noticeable in the opera: "Le Roi d'Ys." In antithesis to Franck's severe and somewhat solemn style of writing, that of Lalo betrays a fund of spontaneous invention, curious rhythmic effects, charming and sprightly instrumentation, and great aptitude for imbuing his works with the necessary local coloring. Both the violin concerto styled "Symphonie Éspagnole" and the "Rhapsodie norvÉgienne" for orchestra are distinctively characteristic. His chamber music is likewise written with sentient regard for euphonious effects and artistic requirements, but it is conspicuously in the art of orchestration that Lalo displays his individuality to the best advantage.

Reyer (1823) belongs more properly under the heading of operatic composers, since he devoted himself primarily to that branch of musical art. He is nevertheless mentioned at this point in consequence of the interest attached to his ode-symphony "Le Selam," which, though not an imitation of David's "Le DÉsert," is intended as a sequel to it. He is ranked as a conspicuous representative of the young French romantic school. Reyer's reputation is generally confined to France, whereas Reber's eminent pupil, Godard (1849), has become widely known as a prolific writer possessing marked individuality. This foreign recognition is due to his works in smaller form, being a genre of composition in which he excels. In France, however, Godard has occupied a conspicuous position on the programs of orchestral concert music. His activity in this direction has been indeed prodigious, and the results should command a more extensive acquaintance by virtue of their charming musical ideas and graceful instrumentation. These orchestral works bring to light the varied range of his imagination, and for this very reason some of the most characteristic titles will bear citation. In addition to a pianoforte concerto and a "Concerto romantique" for violin, Godard has written an orchestral suite: "ScÈnes poÉtiques," a "Symphonie-ballet," an "Ouverture dramatique," a "Symphonie gothique," a "Symphonie orientale," a "Symphonie lÉgendaire," the lyric scena: "Diane et ActÉon," and the dramatic poem for soli, chorus and orchestra: "Le Tasse." The last named is considered to be his best work. His chamber music also merits just commendation. It is evident, therefore, that Godard's already extensive foreign reputation is overshadowed only by the broader recognition awarded him in France.

An examination of the works of Vincent d'Indy (1852) reintroduces the subject of contemporary musical art in one of its extreme phases. In earnest endeavor and in faithful adherence to high ideals d'Indy has proved himself a worthy successor to his teacher, CÉsar Franck, whom he copies in exceedingly complicated development of subject-matter. Not content with incorporating in his works the most advanced tenets of Wagner, he further has explored the pathway opened up by Brahms. Wagnerian tendencies have crept into all modern French music, whereas Brahms has as yet found few imitators among the composers of the Romance nations. Like each and every French writer, d'Indy has tried his hand in operatic lines; his chamber music, too, is surprisingly clever and effective. Nevertheless, he is essentially a symphonist; "Wallenstein" is evolved on broad and dignified lines, and displays a masterful deployment of orchestral resources. "Le Chant de la Cloche," dramatic legend adapted from Schiller, is perhaps the most remarkable of d'Indy's works; it shows marked resemblance to Wagner's later style by reason of its elaboration of detail and intricacy of orchestration.

Before turning from this series of composers, it is again desired to emphasize the peculiar fact that all French writers both past and present have been consistent in first experimenting in the dramatic field before settling down to the exacting requirements of equally arduous and perhaps intellectually higher orchestral and chamber music. That the authorship of a more or less important opera has been conceded to every one of the above-mentioned composers need therefore excite no further comment.

III.

A little coterie of Frenchmen have distinguished themselves by almost exclusive devotion to the lightest of operatic forms. Just as Lortzing and his contemporaries rendered incalculable service to German musical art by clothing their vivacious productions in dainty orchestral raiment, so has France been the gainer through the efforts of Adam, Maillart and Delibes.

Adolphe Adam (1803) was a most productive writer. The distinctive features of his talent are opulence of melody and rhythmic grace. The best known of his works is, of course, the "Postillon de Longjumeau." Maillart (1817), pupil of HalÉvy, winner of the Prix de Rome, and author of six operas, was, strange to say, most successful in composing a work that appeals especially to the German mind. "Das GlÖckchen des Eremiten" still retains its place in the standard repertories of Germany. Delibes (1836), composer of the sprightly comic operas: "Le Roi l'a dit" and "LakmÉ," and of the charming ballets: "Sylvia" and "CoppÉlia," enriched the world with a far higher type of composition than either Adam or Maillart. His music, by virtue of its grace and refinement, is of such intrinsic value as to entitle Delibes to be ranked among the foremost composers of the nineteenth century. Application to lighter forms only by no means excludes sterling musicianship. Delibes' music is typically French, and by its very naÏvetÉ, descriptive powers and clever instrumentation overcomes the impediment of a frequently faulty libretto.

IV.

It is proposed to classify under one distinctive and decidedly exclusive heading the names of six truly eminent composers, who, as worthy contemporaries and successors of Berlioz, may, with him, be regarded as the foremost French representatives of the nineteenth century. These are Thomas, Gounod, Saint-SaËns, Bizet, Chabrier, and Massenet. All these men have become famous as dramatic writers, but the scope of their genius is such as to entitle them to almost equally high rank as composers of orchestral and chamber music. It is further proposed to single out Saint-SaËns as being undoubtedly the greatest French orchestrator since Berlioz, although the present writer is inclined to believe that Chabrier would have equalled him, had not his career been abruptly ended.[81] At all events, Saint-SaËns and Richard Strauss are at present the undisputed living masters of orchestration.[82]

In order to discover to what extent Saint-SaËns has been aided by his immediate compatriots, one must turn to the sound methods and sterling achievements of Ambrose Thomas (1811-1896). A worthy exponent of lyric opera, Thomas possessed like Gounod a high degree of musical intelligence. His music contains the essence of polish and refinement, but its very elegance is at times detrimental to emphatic utterance, to dramatic strength, to intensity of passion. Certain Italian formulae are in evidence. German influence is also apparent. Neither of these characteristics, however, predominates over Thomas' personal individuality and French methods of artistic development. "Mignon" is veiled in a filmy haze of poesy, owing to the delicacy of its orchestration. "Hamlet," which is in reality a grand lyric tragedy, represents an extreme phase of French grand opera. Wagnerian principles are here frankly espoused, whereas the solidity and vigor of the orchestration display an advance upon the scoring of "Mignon" and "FranÇoise de Rimini." Thomas never overloaded his scores. The orchestration is clear in ensemble, ingenious in detail, always interesting, appropriate, varied. Characteristic tone-color and poetically conceived combinations reveal the skilful hand of a competent master.

Gounod (1818-1893) stands as the most illustrious recent representative of lyric opera. Like Thomas, he was strongly influenced by contemporaneous German progression, but in some ways Gounod exhibits greater conservatism and again greater license than Thomas. This composite style of writing is undoubtedly due to the fact that Gounod diligently studied the works of two composers of differentiated views—Berlioz and Schumann, allowed himself further to be influenced by Weber and Wagner, and yet accepted in a measure the prevailing Gallic conventionalities of his day as well as the traditions inherited from Meyerbeer. Compared with Meyerbeer, however, Gounod possessed a far keener insight into those essentials that lead to the construction of a genuine music drama. Not that Gounod's operas embody such essentials to a degree sufficient to dignify them with the title of music dramas, for they lack structural continuity, contain an over-abundance of set arias, are frequently guilty of harboring superficially composed accompaniments, and betray carelessly developed inner details. On the other hand, Gounod displays a rare gift for melody and euphony, his feeling for genuine expression and characterization is sincere, the tone-colors are admirably adapted to the requirements of the situation, and his thematic development toward some ultimate climax is often superb. In a word, Gounod stands midway between the classical and the popular. His music is not quite pure, being tainted by a suggestion of the sentimental and of the chanson style. In the art of orchestration, however, Gounod exhibits the unusual attribute of attaining excellent results without apparent effort. His scoring may not disclose material increase of orchestral resources, since it follows the general path indicated by Auber and Meyerbeer; but it further shows that he possessed a considerable knowledge of the German science of instrumentation which he used to good advantage. The lyric operas "Faust," "La Reine de Saba," "RomÉo et Juliette," as well as the oratorios "Mors et Vita" and "The Redemption" abound in interesting instrumental details and clever orchestral devices. Not only are the vocal parts admirably supported and characterized, but the orchestra also frequently reveals hidden emotions and passions of the stage characters by means of subtle thematic reminiscences from earlier scenes. This suggestive trait is pointedly illustrated in "Faust" when the muted violins break in upon Marguerite's vain attempt to pray, with the dainty waltz theme of her former joyous days. Another striking feature of Gounod's orchestration is its refinement, and as already intimated, few have excelled him in ability to procure rich effects with comparatively simple means. Thus the "Redemption" is scored for but eight instruments of wood, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, kettle-drums, bass-drum, cymbals, together with strings and organ. Even when the organ is silent, the results are remarkably full and sonorous in spite of the absence of triplets of wood instruments, of English horn, of bass-clarinet, of bass-tuba, and of the harp. In all of Gounod's works it will be found that particularly the brasses are made to yield soft harmonies of limpid purity, whereas the instruments of percussion are reserved to reproduce novel and picturesque effects. Incidental mention must further be made of his free use of the harp, as illustrated, for example, by the slow scale for that instrument in the middle of the introduction to "Faust."

Saint-SaËns[83] (1835), greatest of living French composers and mightiest of her orchestral exponents after Berlioz, is assuredly a modern composer in the full sense of that expression. Yet the background of his principles differs but slightly from those of Thomas and Gounod. Plainly in evidence are the outlines of Meyerbeer's operatic forms, in spite of Saint-SaËns' obvious desire to break away from recognized models. On the other hand, the suppression of detached numbers and the adherence to representative and guiding themes disclose his involuntary leanings toward the doctrines of the Bayreuth master, notwithstanding his openly avowed avoidance of such intentions beyond the willingness to accept the advanced spirit of the age. But as to this, it has even been claimed that Saint-SaËns was the first French master to apply Wagnerian principles, even though doing so with discretion. Finally, this peerless contemporary seems to have appropriated to himself all the virtues of eclectic orchestration without one mitigating vice, and crowns this achievement with the indelible impress of his own intensely original individuality to an extent that is verily epoch-making in the history of orchestral evolution. The dual aspect of his symphonic works presents a unique contrast, displaying, as it does, their author's versatility. Saint-SaËns has expressed himself both in symphonies and in symphonic poems. There are four of each on record. Of the former, that in C minor may be looked upon as the most interesting. It contains no programmatic idea, and at first sight would appear to embody a departure from classic form in that it is laid out in two grand divisions. Closer scrutiny, however, reveals a faithful adherence to accepted usage, for the first division contains an introduction, an allegro, and an adagio, whereas the formal structure of the second division can be analyzed into what are in reality a scherzo and a finale. Reminiscent themes and episodes from the first division reoccur in the second, in order to give coherence and organic unity to the work as a whole. Another interesting feature of this symphony is the adaptation of Wagner's "Lohengrin" methods for the wood-wind. The score also includes parts for organ as well as for pianoforte. The four symphonic poems are none of them of the same magnitude and significance as those of Liszt; but just as Liszt's form is simpler and more readily to be grasped than that of Berlioz, so Saint-SaËns' formal structure may be regarded as advancing yet further, if clearness and compactness be the desired objective. "PhaÉton"[84] and "Le rouet d'Omphale"[85] display marvellous skill in scoring; "La jeunesse d'Hercule"[86] is the most elaborate, whereas the "Danse Macabre"[87] is the most characteristic as well as the most popular. Saint-SaËns' chamber music affords an interesting study in diversity of style between it and that of his eminent contemporary, Brahms. Both styles display a master's touch, but Saint-SaËns' chamber music is conspicuous for its simplicity of treatment and admirable clearness. He has given still further proof of versatility in a series of memorable concertos. Had Saint-SaËns been content to write nothing beyond such sterling instrumental works as just referred to, his reputation would not have suffered. But the full strength of his greatness reveals itself in attainments of still wider significance. In addition to several oratorios, including the so-called Biblical opera "Le DÉluge," no less than nine operas must be accredited to his pen, and of these, "Samson et Dalila" looms up as the ideal embodiment of Saint-SaËns' highest creative genius. Lofty imagination, naturalness of expression and dramatic intensity join in making this opera his greatest masterpiece. Unique is the opening chorus for the captive Hebrews in oratorio style, whereas the ballet in the last act presents an effective adaptation of the peculiar Eastern scale. The orchestration is elaborate, rich and varied,—intricate without being obtuse. Saint-SaËns wields his large orchestral forces with unerring judgment; the score abounds in effects now scintillating or impassioned, now melancholy or heroic. The addition to the usual couplets of wood-wind of a third flute, an English horn, a bass-clarinet and a contra-bassoon again demonstrates the indispensability of triplets of related instruments. Opportunity for obtaining pure tone-color in independent harmony from each family of the brass is effected by employing four horns, by the union of two trumpets and two cornets, by adding to the three trombones a bass-tuba, and by making further requisition for two opheicleides, which together with the bass-tuba are capable of independent deployment. The strings are reËnforced by two harps. The array of instruments of percussion would appear rather formidable; nevertheless, they are never used aggressively. This group includes three kettle-drums, a bass-drum, cymbals, tam-tam, a triangle, a Glockenspiel, a tambour de basque, and crotales or castagnettes made of wood and iron. May Saint-SaËns live to enthrall the world a second time with a work that shall rival if not surpass in beauty the rare seductive charm of "Samson et Dalila"!

No opera has won greater universal popularity than that which has immortalized the name of its author, Bizet (1838-1875). What is more, this unreserved approval is merited and will endure. An elaborate discussion of his style would be futile; every professional, every amateur is thoroughly familiar with it. The prevalent custom of French composers to build upon French traditions, but to allow German truthfulness of expression and interpretation to dominate their works was consistently followed by Bizet. The complaint has been made that the traditional disconnected forms of "Carmen" hamper the dramatic action of an otherwise perfect creation. Continuity of music might, perhaps, enhance its already unexcelled effectiveness, but such questionable criticisms are indeed paltry in the face of such melodic and harmonic originality, such dramatic intensity, such orchestral color! Bizet's skill in discovering novel traits of instrumentation was little short of marvellous. The orchestra prepares, accompanies, and moralizes upon the action. There is a wealth of rhythm and color; absolutely truthful characterization and the finest of feeling for artistic details are revealed on every page. It is to be regretted that "L'ArlÉsienne" has not been considered worthy of more frequent performance. Though its libretto cannot be compared with that of "Carmen," Bizet's setting of "L'ArlÉsienne" is in some respects more artistic than that of his masterpiece. Its orchestration is practically inseparable from the drama itself, whereas a considerable portion of "Carmen" can be given on the concert stage with good effect. Parenthetically it might be added that the former work contains in its prelude a highly ingenious solo for the rarely heard saxophone.

In the repertoire of a few progressive European stages is to be found a work of exceptional genius entitled "Gwendoline" by Emmanuel Chabrier (1841-1894). So highly imaginative and poetical are its attributes as to warrant the assertion that "Gwendoline" is the best recent French opera, if not the most advanced exposition of existing Franco-German music dramas. No less an authority than Reyer, was, in spite of his usually conservative views, moved to criticise this masterpiece in the following favorable terms: "Je me trouve en prÉsence d'une oeuvre extrÊmement intÉrressante, renfermant des pages superbes et qui dans ses parties les moins saillantes, porte quand mÊme la griffe puissante d'un compositeur admirablement donÉ." Chabrier did not devote himself seriously to music until he was nearly forty years of age. Shortly before deciding to become a professional, he had been quite successful with an opÉra-bouffe called "L'Étoile." "Gwendoline," however, developed at one stroke his dormant creative powers in a manner truly remarkable. (Charming though inconsistent is the adaptation of an Irish melody in one of the most picturesque scenes.) An enthusiast for Wagner, Chabrier nevertheless branched out into a style that is distinctly his own. The libretto of "Gwendoline" may, perhaps, bear some resemblance to "Der Fliegende HollÄnder" and to "Lohengrin." Gwendoline's recital of her dream in the first act is suggestive of Senta's, whereas in the second act, the love scene after the pagan marriage ceremony recalls the similar episode between Elsa and Lohengrin. Not so with the music. Striking originality, daring harmonic innovations, and above all marvellous skill in orchestral treatment constitute the distinctive features of Chabrier's individuality. The present writer has had opportunity for studying the manuscript score of "Gwendoline" after its revision by the eminent Bayreuth and Munich director, Hermann Levi. Judging from previously heard performances, there had been pictured a monumental accumulation of black notes and an intricate web of interwoven polyphony. These expectations were not justified. Needless to say that the instrumentation is not that of a Mozart, nor are the usual complicated and massive resources of modern orchestration lacking at the necessary moment. On the other hand, the reticence displayed during most of the accompanying polyphony to the vocal parts rivals that of Wagner's highest attainment as embodied in the first act of "Die WalkÜre." Effects that suggest to the listener the union of peculiar composites of tone-color, resolve themselves on paper to perhaps a few simple chords for flutes in their low range, extending across the entire page; or again to the gentle undulations of muted strings deployed in keys of many signatures, whereby subdued and grayish tints are procured. Chabrier's orchestration suggests a progressive yet peculiar phase of Wagnerism enveloped by a tinge of melancholy and softened by the delicate touch characteristic of the French. Masculine scoring as embraced in the rather brutal overture is the exception rather than the rule. The first act of a second unfinished music drama entitled "BrisËis" was edited a few years ago by Levi, but in spite of its undeniable originality, it proved a disappointment to the present writer. Chabrier further wrote a comic opera: "Le Roi malgrÉ Lui," which, though daintily scored, is also inferior to his masterpiece. The orchestral rhapsody "EspaÑa" with its wonderful exhibition of skilful instrumentation constitutes his only really popular work, but it is to be hoped that the time may not be far distant when the musical world shall awake to the significance of "Gwendoline."

In marked contrast to the limited appreciation shown for Chabrier's eminent accomplishments is the universal fame enjoyed by Massenet (1842) during his lifetime. Essentially a dramatic writer, the latter has tried his hand at both comic and grand opera. Of the former, "Manon" is a general favorite; of the latter, wide-spread interest has been excited by "HÉrodiade," "Le Cid," and "Werther." The music to De Lisle's "Les Erinnyes" deserves notice if for no other reason than the peculiar antique coloring that permeates the orchestration. Massenet possesses above all a highly developed feeling for sensuous charm. His style is distinctly poetic and presents no exception to the prevailing custom of embodying both the guiding theme idea as well as the more general philosophical and orchestral principles of Wagner. Unreserved acceptance of such theorems in their extreme phase reveals itself in the recently presented "Werther." Much of Massenet's harmonic treatment displays undeniable traits of originality, and his scoring is rich and variated. His activity also as a composer for the concert stage has been untiring, but he is at his best as an operatic writer, nor do his orchestral works approach those of Saint-SaËns. As to this, however, neither has any other modern French composer as yet equalled Saint-SaËns, even though several younger writers, and notably Debussy, are successfully demonstrating possibilities quite beyond the scope of Saint-SaËns' achievements. Of Massenet's orchestral works, the most important to be recorded are the two suites, the "Hungarian" and the "ScÈnes pittoresques," besides the overture to Racine's "PhÈdre." This last is undeniably Massenet's representative concert piece, embodying as it does virile force, impassioned sentiment and exceptional orchestration.

As in Germany so in France has the array of sterling composers belonging to the nineteenth century assumed such extensive proportions that the historian's well-meant intentions to be concise are in danger of being frustrated. Only with regret can the temptation to search for further indications of orchestral innovations be set aside. On the other hand, one is obliged to concede that the recent progress of French instrumentation is entirely due to the series of eminent composers with which we have just been occupied, nor has the art of orchestration advanced as yet beyond that of Saint-SaËns and of Chabrier, unless we accept the efforts of Debussy as rich in promise as well as in interest. Omitting, therefore, the names of a host of other worthy aspirants, there remains only the seemingly indispensable mention of two secondary composers of recognized merit: Dubois and Paladhile;—of the eminent expounders on orchestration: GevaËrt and Lavoix;—of the literary writers and champions of the new school of thought: Vidal, Benoit and JonciÈres;—of the organist-composers: Guilmant and Widor;—of the representatives of the fair sex: Augusta HolmÈs and CÉcile Chaminade, together with one of the most recent comets on the dramatic horizon: Gustave Charpentier.

The works of Dubois (1837) bear the stamp of exceptional ability and versatility. In addition to a successful grand opera entitled "Aben Hamet," the list includes an oratorio "Paradise Lost," a ballet "La Farandole," a concert overture "Frithjof," a pianoforte concerto, and several orchestral suites. Paladhile (1844), a pupil of HalÉvy, has made himself popular with "Mandolinata," besides winning the respect of the professional world in the cosmopolitan field of grand and comic opera, symphonies, masses, and minor works.

By a strange coincidence the three standard expositions of practical instrumentation and Æsthetic orchestration are conceived in the French language,—the authors of these works being, of course, Berlioz, GevaËrt and Lavoix. GevaËrt (1828) merits the reputation not only of a musical savant but of a prolific composer as well. His "Nouveau TraitÉ de L'Instrumentation" is not only a worthy sequel to Berlioz's, but has to a great extent actually displaced it. Of an entirely different stamp but equally indispensable to the student of orchestral evolution is the comprehensive "Histoire de L'Instrumentation" by Lavoix (1846). Further eulogistic comments upon these world-renowned treatises would seem superfluous.

The literary writer, Vidal (1820), must also be mentioned as an authority in one branch of instrumentation by virtue of his voluminous work entitled "Les Instruments À archet." It contains an admirable account of stringed instruments as well as of their makers, their performers, their composers. Benoit (1834) is identified with the advancement of musical art in Flanders, and the nature of his teachings emphasizes his strong Germanic convictions. He set to music several Flemish melodramas, but is especially to be commended for an essay on "L'École de Musique Flamande et son Avenir." The unflinching attitude of JonciÈres (1839) in favor of the Bayreuth master contributed materially in overcoming both dogmatic and racial prejudice. His literary writings reveal the mind of a keen musical critic, but his compositions lack significance in spite of being extremely modern.

The ascendency of modern French organ playing has been brought about by Guilmant, Widor, and their associates. But this is not their only claim to recognition, for their creative efforts bear directly upon the art of orchestration. Guilmant (1837) has displaced the classical organ concerto with string accompaniment by creating a more pliable form under the heading of "symphony for organ and orchestra." Widor (1845) has likewise shown a progressive spirit in his various organ, chamber, and orchestral works, which are notable for their artistic skill and for their display of poetic imagination.

To be looked upon as the first of the gentler sex to hold a conspicuous position among modern French composers is no small honor. This privilege has been granted to both Augusta HolmÈs and CÉcile Chaminade. What is more, their achievements entitle them to a footing equal in rank to many of their most eminent masculine rivals. Not content to restrict themselves only to smaller forms of composition, both of these women have aspired to higher flights in the realm even of symphony and opera. Nor have their efforts been futile, for they both have written masterpieces of enduring worth. Augusta HolmÈs, also known under the nom de plume of Hermann Zenta, was a pupil of CÉsar Franck. In consequence, her style and orchestration have acquired a certain solidity and dignity that act as an admirable counterpoise to the lightness of touch and dainty scoring that are to be expected from a woman. The opera "HÉro et LÉandre" and the symphonic poems "Irlande" and "Pologne" may be looked upon in the light of her most representative works. Better known in America is her sister-composer, Chaminade, whose charming songs and pianoforte pieces appeal to both professional and amateur. The fact of her being Moszkowski's sister-in-law has its significance in the plausible assumption that his example and guidance may have aided the full development of her creative powers. The most characteristic phase of her individuality finds expression in a pianoforte concerto and in the symphonie-ballet "CallirhoÉ." Both these works present much that is interesting, and are, moreover, effectively orchestrated.

It is yet too early to judge whether the fame of Gustave Charpentier (1860) is destined to be effervescent or enduring. At the present moment both the opera "Louise" and his orchestral efforts have most assuredly excited more than passing comment. Other contemporary Frenchmen, however, such as FaurÉ, Chausson, Bruneau, Debussy, have in turn also attracted attention, but with the exception of Claude Debussy (1862), none of them prove worthy of retaining more than the respectful esteem of the public.[88] Charpentier's "Louise" is conspicuous for its incidental episodes that are full of action, and the work in its entirety presents an attractive series of contrasted tableaux. The opera embodies an interesting experiment in that the lines of the libretto are of a decidedly colloquial genre. The music is modern in the extreme and suggests Wagnerian influence as pronounced as that of any other French composer with the possible exception of Chabrier. The latter, however, appropriated to himself little more than Wagner's fundamental distribution of orchestral forces, whereas Charpentier has unquestionably permitted the distinctive atmosphere of "Die Meistersinger" to permeate portions of his opera. The vocal parts are designedly declamatory rather than melodic, unvocal, and excessively difficult. The regisseur of the Munich Opera, Anton Fuchs,[89] declares that in all his experience at Bayreuth he never found a more knotty problem to solve than in teaching the singers the correct intonation of some of Charpentier's vocal cues. "Louise" is scored with the same due regard for proper effect that in these days is required of all meritorious composers. Although the orchestration may at times be somewhat noisy and overburdened, it reveals numerous insignia of characteristic individuality. Charpentier's orchestral music which M. Colonne has recently been presenting to the American public is on the whole analogous to that of "Louise," and the instrumentation is imbued with delicacy and refinement.

VI.

The attitude of the French public toward orchestral concert music has undergone a radical change during the last fifty years. Habeneck's efforts during the first half of the nineteenth century were indeed praiseworthy and productive, but to the modern conductors, Pasdeloup, Lamoureux, and Colonne belongs the honor of having placed concert music in France on a par with that of the drama. The story of their unprecedented activity has been frequently recorded but will bear repetition in consequence of its wide significance. The peculiar fact that until recent times practically all French composers won distinction in operatic lines before attempting orchestral works has already been sufficiently emphasized. It will be remembered, however, that even in the eighteenth century determined efforts had been made to establish orchestral concerts on a permanent footing, though they could not then hope to rival the allectations afforded by the dramatic stage. Retrospection shows us that in 1725 a brother of the composer, FranÇois Philidor, founded the "Concerts spirituels," which were subsequently fostered by Mouret and other worthy conductors. In 1770 the "Concerts des Amateurs" as established by Gossec proved such a success that he followed up the enterprise by reorganizing the venerable "Concerts spirituels." With the advent of Cherubini, French concert music received a still more powerful impetus, and through his resistless energy "La SociÉtÉ des Concerts du Conservatoire" sprang into existence.

This is the organization that gave Habeneck (1781-1849) an opportunity to distinguish himself. He repaid the debt with interest, for these concerts owe their subsequent world-wide fame primarily to him. Dating approximately from the year of Beethoven's death, new life was infused into this reorganized institution by reason of Habeneck's contagious enthusiasm, and it was he who initiated the French people into the inner mysteries of Beethoven's immortal creations.

In 1851, two years after the death of Habeneck, there was founded a second concert organization that was destined to bring both inspiration and recognition to many a young composer of the modern French School. It was founded by Pasdeloup (1819-1887) and went under the name of "SociÉtÉ des jeunes artistes du Conservatoire." It is not to be confounded with the "Concerts du Conservatoire" which continued to exist in connection with the conservatory proper. Out of this "SociÉtÉ des jeunes artistes" emanated in 1861 the "Concerts populaires de musique classique," which, as the name implies, was a further progressive step in affording the general public opportunity for hearing good music at popular prices. Pasdeloup's undertakings had for their original object the rendition of the best classical works. But the productions of contemporaneous composers both native and foreign were by no means excluded, and so such men as Lalo, Bizet, Saint-SaËns and Massenet were not slow to be the gainers thereby. That Pasdeloup was eventually forced into the background by Lamoureux and Colonne is but another proof of the fickleness and gross ingratitude of the general public. In vain did Pasdeloup in 1886 duplicate Godard's previous attempt to revive the "Concerts populaires," and this signal defeat undoubtedly hastened his end which took place one year later.

The career of the violinist and conductor, Lamoureux (1834), has been triumphant from the time when in association with Colonne he established a society for the performance of chamber music up to the time of his retirement in 1897. In 1873 he established an oratorio society which went under the name of the "SociÉtÉ de Musique sacrÉe." Subsequently he became conductor at the Grand OpÉra as well as of the Conservatoire concerts. His crowning achievement was the founding in 1881 of the "Nouveaux Concerts," better known as the "Concerts Lamoureux."

Colonne (1838), greatest of all exponents of Berlioz and a zealous interpreter of Wagner, instituted in 1874 a series of performances under the name of the "Concerts du ChatÊlet" that have since made his name famous. At the present day he still ranks as the most eminent contemporary French conductor. His activity shows no signs of abatement, for season after season finds him and his orchestra furthering the cause of French music in the musical centres of Europe as well as in America.

Neither the orchestras of Lamoureux nor of Colonne can be excelled in smooth and velvet-toned string playing, or in the purity, the sympathy, and at times the pathos that distinguish the quality of the wood-wind instruments. In French orchestras, however, the brass does not always possess that solidity and richness found in representative German orchestras. This defect may be due to the retention of at least one alto trombone, whereas the Germans now use either three tenor trombones, or two tenor and one bass. The bass-tubas also are frequently too light and small. Particularly in some renditions of Wagnerian works is the undue prominence of inadequately balanced brass occasionally noticeable. Finally, the metallic quality of the kettle-drums, which effects the coloring of the entire orchestra, sounds foreign to ears accustomed to instruments of less pronounced incisiveness. These criticisms are equally pertinent to Italian orchestras, but do not appear to be objectionable to the composers of either France or Italy. In a word, therefore, the performance of French orchestras displays a marvel of refinement and finish even to the minutest of details, but lacks ideal balance and fulness in loud ensemble passages.

Such is the story of French musical progression during the nineteenth century! Though she inaugurated no such reforms as those that signalize the "Sturm und Drang" period in Germany, France has a record to show that is indeed an enviable one. Formerly surpassed by the parent of Romance nations—Italy, France has in recent years left that country far behind in matters both artistic and musical. For half a century Italy has now been represented by but one luminary of the first magnitude. Conspicuous in his solitary grandeur, this versatile hero has captivated in turn the hearts of all peoples, whether Latin, Germanic, or Anglo-Saxon. In every clime is the name chosen for our following discourse a familiar household word,—the name of that wonderful melodist, Verdi.

ITALY.
VII.

The last extended reference to Italian music is to be found in Chapter VIII, which treats of the contemporaries of Beethoven. Those pages call attention to Spontini's historic grand opera, to Rossini's seductive charm, and to the "mellifluous fabrications of Donizetti and Bellini with which undramatic productions must be classed also the earlier works of Verdi in consequence of their voluptuous melodic exuberance."

Verdi (1813-1901) exhibits in the development of his creative power a series of progressive stages that are in some respects analogous to Wagner's evolutionary periods. Just as Wagner's operas and music dramas can be separated into three general groups, so may Verdi's productions be subjected to similar analytical treatment. It will be remembered, however, that the orchestration of Wagner necessitated a second independent classification which partially ignores the Æsthetic and philosophical aspect of subject-matter. With Verdi, on the other hand, dramatic style, musical treatment and orchestration matured simultaneously and gradually.

There is no call to refer to works anteceding "Nabucco," which launched Verdi on his unprecedented career. The first group may therefore include such operas as "Nabucco," "I Lombardi," and "Ernani." The sole claim to merit that these works can offer is in their wealth of melody, further enhanced by considerable rhythmic variety. Displaying closer resemblance to Meyerbeer's style than to il bel canto of Rossini, they further embody reminiscences of Bellini, and their favorable reception may have been aided by these very reminiscences. From an artistic standpoint they contain little worthy of commendation. They lack depth of feeling, whereas both form and instrumentation are conventional and commonplace. Orchestral color depends largely upon violent and frequently illogical dynamic contrasts.

Typical of the second group are "Rigoletto," "La Traviata," and "Il Trovatore." A further division might have been made in consequence of the superiority of "Il Trovatore" over "Rigoletto." Such exact distinctions, however, do not seem necessary in this discussion. These works show more earnest search for truthful and impressive expression, greater harmonic variety, and freer treatment of the inner and lower parts. The dramatic effects are of an intensity rarely surpassed. The music is, however, not only passionate but violent, and the tonal effects often suggest unnecessary noise rather than satisfying sonority. As Ferris expresses it: "Verdi storms the ear and captivates the senses, but does not subdue the soul." "Rigoletto" shows increased regard for judicious orchestration and that particularly in the deployment of the wood-wind. The scoring of "La Traviata" is picturesque and consistent. "Il Trovatore" presents passionate outbursts of feeling, a certain striving after effects, whereas the instrumentation reflects in its not infrequent coarseness the brutal tendencies of the subject-matter itself. As a whole, however, the orchestration possesses more independence and richer tonal variety than that of Verdi's preceding works.

The third and last group is comprised of the "Manzoni Requiem," the operas "AÏda," "Othello," and the lyric drama "Falstaff." The last named might almost be classified by itself, representing as it does the extreme phase of Verdi's involuntary adaptation of Teutonic dogmas both ancient and modern. In spite of his obvious intention to make this his masterpiece, it presents a line of departure not suited to his most felicitous style of writing. However, this dramma lirico has borne fruit in so far as to be a source of inspiration to Puccini, Mascagni and Leoncavallo, although their effusions take the form of "tragic operettas." In spite of the display of virile power in "Falstaff," Verdi reached his highest development in the orchestration of the Requiem, in the musical contents of "AÏda," and in the dramatic continuity of "Othello." In all these later works one finds unquestionable evidence of Wagnerian influence, at the least in respect to externals. Notwithstanding Verdi's repudiation of any such intentions, no composer surrounded by the spirit of the times could do other than progress. The most noticeable improvements in the third group consist of freer use of the dissonant element, better declamation, higher regard for faithful interpretation, painstaking finish of minor details, and above all an extreme advance in the art of instrumentation. The functions of the orchestra become more and more important, and the tonal colors acquire a richer and warmer hue. The scoring of the Requiem is dignified, religious, yet emotional. That of "AÏda" breathes the very atmosphere of its Egyptian setting. In "Othello," the orchestration is essentially dramatic and impassioned. "Falstaff" accepts the fundamental principles of Gluck, and the orchestra is raised to prominence equal to that of the voices. As a result of this concession, Verdi found Wagner's orchestral resources indispensable to his needs, and the resultant modern effects are a pleasant surprise. The vocal parts and the orchestra are here logically balanced, though Verdi's marvellous gift as a writer of pure and limpid melody continues in evidence.

With the evolution of this third period was instituted one of the mightiest transformations in the history of Italian opera. That country has as yet been unable to replace him. The efforts of Ponchielli, Gomez, BoÏto, Sgambati, Buonamici, Puccini, are certainly praiseworthy, but sink into insignificance when compared with the splendid attainments of their venerable and venerated model. As to the rocket-like ascent and descent of Mascagni together with the present notoriety of Leoncavallo, time alone will decide whether the path they have chosen be meritorious or meretricious.

VIII.

It will take but a few words to conclude the record of musical activity displayed by the recent representatives of the Latin races. They have done practically nothing for the cause of orchestration other than to branch off into infrequented by-ways that have necessitated corresponding orchestral treatment. These final remarks must therefore deal not with the subject of instrumentation proper, but rather with the Æsthetic and philosophical aspect of modern Italian music, the influence it has exerted, and the direction it is taking.

Ponchielli (1834) owes a foreign reputation to his opera "Gioconda," but endeared himself to his countrymen not alone as a dramatic writer but also as the author of the "Garibaldi Hymn," written in 1882, four years before his death. He enjoyed the reputation of being the greatest modern composer of Italian opera after Verdi. Since the Brazilian, Gomez (1839), practically adopted Italy as his home, he is mentioned in this connection. He was a painstaking composer, but his music frequently reminds one of Verdi's, whose ardent admirer he was. BoÏto (1842) possesses not only the talents of an excellent composer, but of a highly gifted poet as well. He was the first prominent Italian to accept without reserve the fundamental principles governing the Germanic music drama, and thus became the head of the Wagnerian party in his own country. His "Mefistofele" did not succeed without a struggle, but it is now accepted as a standard opera of universal fame. The orchestral efforts of Sgambati (1843) are analogous to BoÏto's adaptation of exotic principles bearing on operatic forms. To Sgambati belongs the honor of being the first Italian composer of the nineteenth century devoted to purely instrumental music and large orchestral forms. Already in his youth he attracted attention in consequence of an interesting pianoforte quartet. His structural form, moulded on classic lines, is logical and well proportioned, nor is it devoid of distinctive characteristics. His music embodies clear melodic delineation and free harmonization. The orchestration is, however, its best feature. It displays sound judgment, sentient appreciation for variety, contrast, and tone-color; these results are, moreover, attained by means of a comparatively small orchestra. Concert overtures, chamber music and the like are comprised in the works of Buonamici (1846) who was a pupil of both von BÜlow and Rheinberger. His chief claim to recognition, however, like that of Puccini, depends upon his dramatic effects, which have attracted considerable attention. At the present moment Puccini is generally regarded by his countrymen as the foremost living Italian composer. His orchestration is rich and full, but his music, in spite of its pleasing melody and impassioned utterance, betrays the influence of Ponchielli who in turn drew inspiration from Verdi.

What shall be said about Mascagni and Leoncavallo? What have they done even indirectly for the cause of orchestration? Chronologically, Leoncavallo (1858) precedes Mascagni (1863), but without "Cavalleria rusticana" to establish a precedent, "I Pagliacci" might never have created the furor that it has. A discussion as to the relative merits and defects of their notorious productions would be here out of place. As to their relative orchestration, that of Mascagni shows, on the whole, a lack of genuine musicianly training. Although it must be conceded that he elicits highly dramatic and intensely passionate accents from the orchestra, the substance of his orchestration has, on the whole, a false ring to it and is of a hoarse quality of tone. It lacks balance, lacks taste, lacks judgment, and is at times coarse even to brutality. That of Leoncavallo is decidedly more refined and original. Here again the key-note is a striving after unnatural effects; but the orchestra is at least full of life, impassioned, descriptive.

The earlier achievements of Ponchielli, BoÏto and Sgambati are assuredly of more enduring worth. These three representative men may be regarded as the only noteworthy Italian composers born after Verdi and before 1850.[90] Such is the present meagre record of a country that can boast of an illustrious throng of preceding prodigies![91]

(Summary on page 178.)