(Vincent d'Indy: born in Paris, March 27, 1852; now living there) ORCHESTRAL LEGEND, "THE ENCHANTED FOREST": Op. 8 This work, which the composer calls a Legende-symphonie, is based on a ballad by Uhland entitled "Harald." It was composed in 1878. On a fly-leaf of the score is printed, in French, this paraphrase of Uhland's ballad: "Harald, the brave hero, rides at the head of his warriors. They go by the light of the moon through the wild forest, singing many a song of war. "Who rustle in ambush in the thickets? Who come down from the clouds and start from the torrent's foam? Who murmur in such harmonious tones and give such sweet kisses? Who hold the knights in such voluptuous embrace? The nimble troop of Elves; resistance is in vain. The warriors have gone away, gone to Elfland. "He alone has remained—Harald, the hero, the brave Harald; he goes on by the light of the moon through the wild forest. "A clear spring bubbles at the foot of a rock; scarcely has Harald drunk of the magic water than a strong sleep overpowers his whole being; he falls asleep on the black rocks. "Seated on this same rock, he has slept for many centuries—and for many centuries, by the moonlight, the elves have circled slowly round about Harald, the old hero."[67]
"SAUGEFLEURIE" ["WILD SAGE"], LEGEND FOR ORCHESTRA: Op. 21 Saugefleurie, Legende d'aprÈs un conte de Robert de BonniÈre, was composed in 1884. The tale upon which it is based is from the Contes des FÉes of de BonniÈre, excerpts from which are prefaced to the score. The story has been retold in English prose as follows: "Once upon a time a young and beautiful fairy, Saugefleurie, lived humbly and alone by the edge of a lake. The bank was covered with jonquils. She lived quietly in the trunk of a willow, and stirred from it no more than a pearl from its shell. One day the king's son passed by a-hunting, and she left her tree to see the horses, dogs, and cavaliers. The prince, seeing so fair a face, drew rein and gazed on her. She saw that he was handsome; and, as her modesty was emboldened by naÏve love, she looked straight into his eyes. They loved each other at first sight, but not a word was spoken. Now it was death for Saugefleurie to love a mortal man, yet she wished to love the prince, and was willing, loving, to die. Nor was there any kindly power to save her. 'My lord,' she said, 'the fine days are past; do you not find solitude beautiful, and do not lovers love more warmly when their love is hidden? If it seem good to you, let us stay here without fear; our eyes can speak at leisure, and we shall find pleasure only in dwelling together. My heart will be light if it be near you. My lord, I give you my life. Take it, and without a question.' Love and death are always ready and waiting. Do not think that Saugefleurie, whose fate I mourn, was spared. She withered at once, for she was Saugefleurie." [68]
The music opens quietly; there is a violin solo; then the approach of the prince's hunting-party is suggested. The love-scene follows—solo first and second violins, solo viola, and flutes; there is an increase of intensity, and the music becomes passionate and stressful. The hunt music returns, followed by a reminiscence of the love-theme; then the end.
"ISTAR," SYMPHONIC VARIATIONS: Op. 42 "Istar" was first performed in Brussels, under the direction of EugÈne Ysaye, January 10, 1897. The music illustrates a French version of an ancient Babylonian poem, "Istar's Descent into Hades," the original of which is believed to have been in the library of Sardanapalus. The French version of the poem, which is printed as a preface to the score, has been translated as follows by Mr. W. F. Apthorp: "Towards the immutable land Istar, daughter of Sin, bent her steps, towards the abode of the dead, towards the seven-gated abode where HE entered, towards the abode whence there is no return.
"At the first gate, the warder stripped her; he took the high tiara from her head. "At the second gate, the warder stripped her; he took the pendants from her ears. "At the third gate, the warder stripped her; he took off the precious stones that adorn her neck. "At the fourth gate, the warder stripped her; he took off the jewels that adorn her breast. "At the fifth gate, the warder stripped her; he took off the girdle that encompasses her waist. "At the sixth gate, the warder stripped her; he took the rings from her feet, the rings from her hands. "At the seventh gate, the warder stripped her; he took off the last veil that covers her body.
"Istar, daughter of Sin, went into the immutable land, she took and received the Waters of Life. She gave the sublime Waters, and thus, in the presence of all, delivered the SON OF LIFE, her young lover." [69]
Mr. Apthorp has thus set forth the peculiarity of d'Indy's tone-poem (for such it virtually is): "The theme is not given out simply at the beginning, neither is it heard in its entirety until the last variation, in which it is sung by various groups of instruments in unison and octaves, and worked up later in full harmony. Each one of the variations represents one of the seven stages of Istar's being disrobed at the gates of the 'immutable land,' until in the last she stands forth in the full splendor of nudity.... By following the poem, and noting the garment or ornament taken off, the listener can appreciate the composer's poetic or picturesque suggestiveness in his music." Another commentator has observed that d'Indy has here "reversed the customary process.... He by degrees unfolds from initial complexity the simple idea which was wrapped up therein, and appears only at the close, like Isis unveiled, like a scientific law discovered and formulated."
"SUMMER DAY ON THE MOUNTAIN": Op. 61 - DAWN (Aurore)
- DAY (Jour)
- EVENING (Soir)
Jour d'ÉtÉ À la montagne, a tone-poem in three parts (dated 1905, published in 1906, first performed in Paris, February 18, 1906), is based on a prose poem by Roger de Pampelonne. These quotations, in French, are prefaced to the score: "I. DAWN "Awake, dark phantoms! smile to heaven, majestically, for a ray in the Infinite rises and strikes your brow. One by one the folds of your great mantle are unrolled, and the first gleams, caressing the proud furrows [on your brow], spread over them an instant of sweetness and serenity. "Awake, mountains! The king of space appears! "Awake, valley! who concealest the happy nests and sleeping cottages; awake, singing. And if, in thy chant, sighs also reach me, may the light wind of the morning hours gather them and bear them to God. "Awake, cities! to which the pure rays penetrate regretfully! Sciences, turmoils, human degradations, awake!... Up, artificial worlds!
"The shadows melt away little by little, before the invading light.... "Laugh or weep, creatures who people this world. "Awake, harmonies! God hearkens! "II. DAY (Afternoon, under the pines) "How sweet it is to cling to the mountain-sides, broad staircase of heaven! "How sweet it is to dream, far from the turmoil of man, in the smiling majesty of the mountain-tops! "Let us mount towards the summits; man deserts them, and there, where man is no longer, God makes His great voice heard; let us view His ephemeral creatures from afar, in order that we may be able to serve and love them. "Here, all earthly sounds mount in harmony towards my rested heart; here, all becomes hymn and prayer; Life and Death hold each other by the hand, to cry towards heaven: Providence and Goodness. I no longer see what perishes, but what is born again on the ruins; the great Guide seems to reign there alone.
"All grows still. Crossing the sun-lit plain, a sweet, innocent song reaches me, borne by the wind, which glides through the depths of the woods. "Oh, wrap me wholly in thy sublime accents, wind, whose wild breath gives life to the organ of Creation! Gather the birds' songs on the dark pines; bring to me the rustic sounds, the joyous laughs of the maidens of the valley, the murmur of the waves, and the breath of plants. Hide in thy great sob all the sobs of the earth; let only the purest harmonies reach me, works of the divine Good! "III. EVENING "Night steals across the all-covering sky, and the waning light sends forth a fresh breath swiftly over the weary world. The flowers stir, their heads seek one another, to prop themselves one against another and sleep. A last ray caresses the mountain-tops, whilst, happy after his rude day's work, the mountaineer seeks his rustic abode, whose smoke rises from a fold of the vale. "The sound of bells, sign of life, ceases little by little; the lambs crowd into the fold, and before the crackling fire the peasant woman rocks to sleep her child whose timid soul is dreaming of mists, the daring wolf, and the black verge of the woods. "Soon all things sleep beneath the shadows, all appears ghostly in the valley; yet all still lives.
"O Night! Eternal Harmony dwells beneath thy veil; joy and grief are but sleeping. "O Night! consuming Life stirs through the all-consuming day; Life creates itself anew beneath the pearl-strewn mantle of thy outstretched arms...."
In all three movements of d'Indy's tripartite tone-poem a piano is included among the orchestral forces; yet it is never used as a solo instrument, nor even as an orchestral voice (save for a few measures in the third movement), but is employed solely for purposes of instrumental embroidery.
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