ELEVENTH CONCERT,
Under the Direction of Earl Howe, Wednesday, May 29, 1833.

ACT I.

ACT II.

This concert, the first selected by the noble Earl who has lately added his name to the list of directors, augurs very favourably of his musical knowledge and taste. We here discern no symptoms of prejudice, of an irrational exclusive system, for the best productions of the great schools are allowed a place; and, so long as the works of living composers are declared inadmissible,—a regulation which, for obvious reasons, ought to be strictly enforced,—the wider the field for choice, the better, both for the subscribers and the art itself. With this exception, the rule should be, and we have no doubt will be, to throw the door wide open to all that is excellent, whatever its country or date, and to give every work all the advantages that the best-appointed orchestra can bestow.

The Queen was present at this performance, and perhaps what is here denominated ‘The National Anthem’ was meant as a compliment to her Majesty. But why not have called it by its right name? And what reason can there have been for not giving the composer the credit of it? This is neither more nor less than Haydn’s Hymn for the Emperor Francis, with English words adapted to the music,[67] and as such would probably now have been announced, had not the secretary made his copy from a book of some former year.

The song from Judas Maccabeus is certainly not one of the best in that fine oratorio, but the chorus is grand. Webbe’s lovely glee, of which it is difficult to say whether the melody or the simple harmony is most charming, was well executed by the second choir; the first wanted strength in the base. Madame Cinti excels more in the cantabile than in the declamatory style; she therefore sang the air, ‘Per pietÀ,’ divinely, but was not quite so successful in the recitative. The fine choral prayer, ‘O Father, whose almighty power,’ with the spirited fugue, forming the second movement, was admirably performed; as was Handel’s concerto. In the air from the Messiah, Mrs. Knyvett was perfectly at home, as she is in all Handel’s music. Indeed this lady is, we fear—and we feel with regret this apprehension—likely to be the last of that school which has received from tradition the true manner of singing the oratorio music of this master. The chorus that followed, by being placed in juxtaposition with Haydn’s choral chef-d’oeuvre, seemed to challenge comparison; but if Handel is to be weighed in the scale against Haydn, ‘Lift up your heads,’ though a very masterly chorus, is not the work to be selected for the purpose. Nothing can exceed the admirable manner in which the selection from the Creation was performed: Braham’s ‘In splendour bright’ was magnificent, and ‘The heavens are telling’ stupendously grand; we never before heard so perfect a performance, and never were more affected by choral music.

The very pleasing light overture of Martini found an abundance of admirers in the room: many who did not justly appreciate Haydn’s chorus, entered fully into the merits of this. The melody, ‘Charmante Gabrielle,’ forming part of this, dragged—was played too slow. The aria, ‘A compir,’ proved too much of a duet; the violin was rendered more prominent than the composer intended; but Madame Cinti executed her share of it with a delicacy and neatness that never have been surpassed. Webbe’s greatest work, his glee, ‘When winds breathe soft,’ was a very finished performance. Miss Stephens sang most sweetly the song from Il Pensieroso. What poetical music! what musical words! But the whole oratorio (as it is called) whence this is taken, tempts one to commit an anachronism, by making Milton and Handel commune together during the progress of their work. The overture to Prometheus went well, but wanted some of the fire of the Philharmonic orchestra. The chorus, ‘Rex tremendÆ majestatis,’ had ample justice done it; but in the exquisite quartet, a want of ensemble, of that union which good rehearsing produces, was too apparent.

TWELFTH CONCERT,
Under the Direction of Lord Burghersh, Wednesday,, June 5, 1833.

ACT I.

ACT II.

With this concert the season concluded, and in a manner which we should suppose must have determined almost every subscriber to continue his name on the list for the ensuing year. So good a selection, so much variety and novelty, never appeared on the books of the Ancient Concerts. Madame Pasta’s deeply expressive style of singing ‘Parto’ was felt by the whole room, but her shakes, or attempts to shake, nearly neutralized all the good effect she produced. Spofforth’s very beautiful glee,—one of those specimens of the English school which will descend to posterity, and never lose its power to charm,—was, upon the whole, delicately sung, though somewhat too quick. Mr. Bennet in ‘Total eclipse!’ did himself the greatest credit; he sang it most chastely, and afforded the best proofs of having studied the words as well as music of this exceedingly pathetic song, one of the chefs-d’oeuvre of the great master. The beautiful quartet from Gluck’s Orfeo was new to these concerts. It is reasonably a matter of wonder that it never before had been rescued from neglect. We would willingly have spared the ‘Musica di Ballo,’ which, though essential on the stage, is quite unnecessary in the concert-room. Not less excellent than the quartet, though of a different character, is the aria from a drama written on the same subject, and composed by Haydn—‘Il pensier stÀ negli oggetto,’ a gentle, lovely air in E, sung by Mr. Parry, jun., with great judgment and effect. This, we believe, has never till now been publicly performed in England![68] We have heard Madame Pasta, in the scena from Gluck’s opera, with feelings of pleasure less mingled with regret than on the present occasion. She seems exhausted by constantly singing. The two spring months in London fatigue a fashionable performer more than a whole year in cities peopled by reasonable folks. The Te Deum of Leo, though nearly a century old, is another novelty, not only to the Ancient Concerts, but to this and, we suspect, every other country: it is one of the grandest works of this great composer: and some trombone parts which were, with great good sense, added to it on the present occasion, increase to a very considerable degree the sublimity of its effect. To Lord Burghersh, we are told, the subscribers are indebted for so much that is new to them; and we are much mistaken if the musical world generally will not have to thank that accomplished nobleman for having saved this valuable institution from the dissolution that was impending.

The overture to Alceste is decidedly a work of genius. Was it ever before performed in London, except forty years ago at the Opera-House? In the sestetto from Cosi fan Tutte the performers were by no means at ease; they wanted what they ought to have been compelled to undergo, a couple of hours’ private study together, with the piano-forte only, before they even rehearsed it with the band.

‘Dove scorre’ has never been a great favourite with us, though undoubtedly an elegant composition. It was extremely well executed by Messrs. Bennet and Phillips. The ‘Agnus Dei,’ from a not very generally known mass, is a beautiful quartet. The scena, ‘Misera! dove son?’ and following aria, is from Mozart’s Operngesaenge, and, like most of the pieces in that collection, did not call forth much of the composer’s strength; Mrs. Bishop, however, did it every justice in her power. The almost bewitching madrigal of Girolamo Conversi, first published at Venice, in 1575, was encored!—a great effort for this wonderfully self-controlled audience. Keiser has recently been made generally known through the medium of our work, and a very passionate and charming air by him, admirably sung by Madame Devrient, added to the attraction of this fine concert,—a concert which has most effectually assisted in retrieving the character that had been rather damaged by a few former seasons, and has left a most favourable impression on all who were present at this last of the fifty-eighth series.