  SACRED MUSIC.
OF all the accomplishments which shed a grace over the clerical character, music is the most becoming. There is ‘nothing more strong and potent unto good than music,’ says Hooker; and Martin Luther ranks it next to theology. It is a social art, which draws persons together to enjoy a pleasure which can excite no bad passion, and who separate without any cause to regret an aching head, or a lightened purse, and, probably, a loss of temper. It very much assists in confining what are called the pleasures of the table within reasonable limits. It softens, though it never enervates the mind; and even if indulged in to excess, to the exclusion of more important pursuits, leaves at least the bodily health unimpaired. But, viewed as part of our church service—an essential part, indeed, the great length of the liturgy being considered—it is incumbent on the ministers of religion to acquire a competent knowledge of that which ought to be calculated to act very influentially, though calmly, on their congregations. In cathedrals it is absolutely necessary that the officiating clergy be well acquainted with music, for the greater part of the service in those establishments is set to musical notes. Hence we think it will be admitted, that a divine does not leave his calling when he dedicates some portion of his studies to an art so closely connected with his profession; and Mr. Day, while writing his present work, may truly be said to have been labouring in his vocation. Much more so, past all dispute, than if, following the example of so many of his brethren, he had devoted the same time to the performance of magisterial duties. We say nothing of hunting, and such unintellectual, savage amusements, presuming that very few of our clergy now engage in pursuits so utterly incompatible with the sacred character. The volume before us contains twenty-two short pieces of vocal harmony, much, in fact, in the style of the psalm-tune, but more modern in all respects. The melodies are pleasing, some of them original; and in harmonizing these the composer has been quite successful, except in the few instances hereafter to be mentioned. Indeed a superior taste, and a knowledge of the best schools, distinguish most of Mr. Day’s pages. The words—which we must observe seem to partake strongly of what is called Evangelical feeling—are selected from Bishop Heber, Watts, Cowper, Wesley, Toplady, &c., the expression and accentuation whereof are irreproachable, except in one or two trifling instances not worthy of remark. But pleasing and good as the harmony generally is, we discover a few errors in it, which, in a work displaying so much talent and skill, rather surprise us. At page 14, third bar from the end, are three octaves. At page 26, the latter four bars exhibit more of such errors—that is, if it be intended that the base should take the lower notes. If otherwise, however, the unisons are very meagre. But severe critics will exclaim loudly at two consecutive fifths between the second and third bars of page 46, which, notwithstanding the enormity of the offence, we confess are less painful to our ears than the eighths we have just pointed out, though they will meet with no mercy from musical rigorists, and undoubtedly ought to have been detected by the composer, and corrected. The manner in which this volume is brought out is an undeniable proof of the elegant taste of either the proprietor or his publisher; and the charitable purpose to which the profits arising from the sale of it are to be applied, is no less indicative of the benevolent feeling of the reverend author. Mr. Hucheson’s work consists of sixteen original airs, harmonized for three and four voices. But to these are prefixed nine full quarto pages of what the writer denominates an ‘Introductory Sketch,’ to which, being by far the best and most interesting part of the volume, we first give our attention. It is a brief account of the origin and progress of musical psalmody, which he shows, from ecclesiastical historians, to have been introduced into England by Gregory the Great, at about the close of the sixth century. ‘In the seventh century a person not only taught the Monks sacred music, in the neighbourhood of Wearmouth, but also opened schools for musical instruction in the northern shires of England. Afterwards a similar school was established in Canterbury, and other places were provided with teachers from that country. The reign of Alfred adorned the close of the ninth century, and by him music was liberally patronised. St. Dunstan, in the tenth century, excelled in sacred music, as well as in the arts of painting and sculpture.’ In succeeding centuries much of the ample revenues of the church were expended in the encouragement of music. ‘Indeed, so much was it then studied, that the priests of almost every European nation travelled to Rome to learn chanting.’ Mr. Hucheson is a strenuous advocate for congregational psalm-singing. His arguments are incontrovertible, if those who would sing, could, and if those who could sing, would; but, unhappily, the want of ability in some, and either the shyness or the pride (we fear the latter) of others, presents an insurmountable obstacle to so desirable a practice. The author is of opinion that congregations should be instructed in psalmody, and that ‘a choir, consisting of their own members, ought to occupy a situation in the church near the conductor of the music.’ ... ‘The music of the church would immediately become a theme of conversation at home, and of remark abroad; and the subject being frequently discussed, would lead to just views of its importance, and originate plans for its improvement, by the influence of judicious criticism.’ As we have said above, if the great length of our morning service is to continue unabridged, music must remain an essential part of it: without the intervention of this, attention could hardly for so long a time, and amidst so many repetitions, be kept alive; and if introduced, it ought to be good. At all events, whatever in any degree tends to excite ridiculous ideas should be most scrupulously avoided; and what can be more ludicrous than the squalling of a bevy of charity-children—the vocal musicians of most parish churches? But will congregations be induced to join heart and voice in the psalm, or any other kind of music? We fear not; for though, owing to the increased diffusion of musical knowledge, numbers are qualified, and would soon qualify others, yet absurd aristocratic feeling is so prevalent in this our country, that where humility Of the music in this work we cannot say much that will prove gratifying to the composer. His melodies are not censurable, we admit, except as being common; but his knowledge of harmony, as evinced in his accompaniments, is of a very imperfect kind, and he seems not to have taken the precaution to avail himself of that assistance which we presume was easily to have been obtained. PIANO FORTE.FIFTH CONCERTO, (in C major) with or without Orchestral Accompaniments, composed by I. MOSCHELES. Op. 87. (Cramer and Co. and Mori.) THIS Concerto was produced, for the first time, if we mistake not, at Mr. Moscheles’ concert in June last; and the impression it made on us was so strong, that the piano-forte part alone now brings to our recollection most of the effects produced by an efficient orchestra. This might almost be considered as a symphony, so full and active are the instrumental parts; but the present publication, without the accompaniments, includes all that belongs to the instrument for which it is principally written, and is so far complete in itself; though, of course, much of the grandeur of the composition, as well as many highly important effects, must be lost, if unaccompanied. The very opening of the concerto leads us to expect a work of great originality, and we are not disappointed in its progress. The following are the first dozen bars:— The solo part enters thus unceremoniously,— The progress of the principal and subordinate subjects is through nearly all the keys and every variety of passage, and the ingenuity with which this is managed is, in most instances, rewarded by the effect produced. Though it must be granted that there are, in this movement, certain difficulties which can have no other object than to show the dexterity of the performer. And as to the sestine of semiquavers, (page 20,) against four of the same notes, we must say that, even when executed with mathematical precision, which is nearly impossible, (would it were quite so!) the result is confusion between the two parts, and, consequently, the effect on the ear painful. The second movement is beautiful throughout; the commencement, in which the violoncello takes the melody, is so lovely a piece of simple harmony, that we cannot forbear extracting it:— But the most popular part of the present work,—and amongst much originality we may also mention it as the most original,—is the finale, or last movement. When performed, on the occasion before alluded to, the very opening excited a murmur of applause, and increasing satisfaction was marked on the countenances of the audience as it proceeded. An examination of this does not lessen our admiration of it; the invention, consistency, and spirit of the whole, are manifest from the first to the last bars. We shall add to our quotations the commencement of this, by which the reader will see that the movement is not cast in a common mould. The three bars, or second subject, from the word dolce, are afterwards taken, but in the relative minor, as the point of a fugato, which morsel of science À l’ancienne, coming in so unexpectedly, and not continuing long enough to puzzle and weary the unlearned, must be counted among the happiest thoughts in the work. This concerto, having been written for Mr. Moscheles’ own performance, therefore for effect of all kinds, including a display of his powers of execution, is, as will be supposed, abundantly difficult—we therefore only recommend it to very superior players; to such it cannot but prove highly valuable.
THE opera, 8 of Cramer, long ago taught us to associate agreeably his name and airs À la Russe; we therefore anticipated much of the pleasure which the above publication has afforded us, and feel confident that it will find an admirer in every lover of true piano-forte music. The Rondo Brillant is in A, 24 time, allegretto scherzando; the subject simple, melodious, and treated in a fanciful, sprightly manner;—with great taste, it is superfluous to add, for whoever knew this quality wanting in any of Cramer’s productions? It is also practicable by all tolerable performers, and comprehensible to every one with a musical ear, a praise unmerited by many composers of great name in the present day. We were much struck by a very bold enharmonic change from E to Eflat and back again (page 3); it will always rouse the attention of the hearer, however drowsy he may happen to be. The introduction, adagio, is expressive, energetic, and just the right length. At page 6, bar 15, is a Csharp, which ought to be Dsharp. As the same error is repeated two bars beyond, it might mislead the performer, if not pointed out as a misprint. No. 2 is a Polonaise, which, if played in the time indicated by the composer,—that is, not quick, for so we are to understand the term grazioso,—will produce very considerable effect. The subject is exciting, and well supported, the modulations good, the passages mostly lie well for the hand, and the whole being included in nine pages, the interest never flags. But as if M. Payer were resolved that no one composition by M. Czerny should appear without some drawback, he has written an introduction to
No. 1, from an opera now having a great run in Paris, composed by Halevy, is an excellent rondo, the air graceful and pleasing, and the amplification of it exhibiting delicacy of taste and a full knowledge of the character and capabilities of the instrument. Here we find no notes sixty-four to a bar,—no leaps of 17ths and 19ths,—no howling runs of semitones,—all is rational, and worthy of a clever, spirited writer. Let it, however, be observed, that the author of this is not Henri Herz, but his brother, who appears to have a soul for music; while his relative only shows that he has fingers and thumbs for the art. This air is named La Romeca in the opera; it is by comparison short, and though it looks easy, requires an experienced player, and one with a wide hand, the base passages continually embracing ten notes. No. 2 is clearly a dance-tune: its rhythm of three and two bars shows that the measure is made to yield to stage action. The air is rather pretty—somewhat national in character, and the composer’s chief aim seems to have been, to make the rondo as easy to the performer as was possible, short of being rendered fit for a learner of three months’ standing.
THE least meritorious part of No. 1 is the title-page, which we have cut short; not, however, from any disrespect to her Majesty, our queen, whose name, ‘by special permission,’ appears on it, but because it contains much nonsense. The five variations on Paisiello’s air, ‘Nel cor piu non mi sento,’ are rather clever in contrivance, and pleasing, but let us hope that not above half of these were ever played on the organ, for semidemisemiquavers on that instrument would be as much out of character as a bravura from the pulpit. Indeed, we must say that, however well suited to the piano-forte, there is hardly a single page of this calculated for that noble piece of mechanism, the organ. If, nevertheless, the whole were ever performed on the Apollonicon, and met with the ‘unbounded applause’ which the composer—reviving a vain, childish, absurd phrase, which we hoped had been exploded—boasts of, such applause only proves what a modicum of discrimination his auditors must have brought with them into the room. No. 2 has much to recommend it to general notice;—the barcarolle, by Herold, is a beautiful melody; it is exceedingly well worked into a rondo, by Mr. Karr; the piece is not long, shews much taste, and is well adapted to the instrument.
THE variations on the Blue-bells are very much like numberless other things of the kind; the composer does not seem to have even made an effort to strike out of the highway; he has followed the beaten path, and committed no offence. The only attempt at novelty is to be found in the title-page—(your title-pages are great tests of understanding)—where, in dedicating his variations to a friend, in English, he tells us, in French, that the dedicatee is an ‘ÉlÈve de Bochsa!’—as if the words were untranslatable; and also as if the world cared one straw about such a piece of information. The delicious air, ‘Oft in the stilly night,’ would, we should have thought, have spoken for itself, and pointed out an elegant calmness as the proper character of any variations written on it; but the composer either has not heard, or has not listened to, the ‘still small voice’ of reason; he has given us, first, a page of demisemiquavers, ‘brillante’, 24 time; next a crowd of skipping triplets; then poured on us another flood of three-tailed notes, ‘Con Fuoco;’ and afterwards as many more of the same kind, ‘presto!’—to say nothing of a coda in a similar style. There is not a single new idea to be found in the whole piece. If such things as this confer the title of ‘composer,’ we then can only say that it is a title very easily obtained. ROBERT LE DIABLE.
THE Overture to Robert is in two movements; the first an andante maestoso in C minor, meant as a prologue to the diablerie of the drama—a very much laboured composition, which does not make a return equal to the trouble bestowed on it. The second is an anticipation of the admirable and really popular air, ‘Jadis regnait en Normandie.’ The introduction wants the voices and stage action to give due effect to it, but there are some fine musical points in it, which the pianoforte is quite sufficient to bring forth. The whole of this is most judiciously arranged. We never discovered the great merit of the Dance of the Flower-Girl, No. 2, and suspect that the grace (not, let us No. 3, the Chorus in the introduction, we have spoken of above. This is also remarkably well arranged by M. Jules (such Christian name we believe he bears) Herz. Much of this is pleasing, and the whole showy, without annoying the player and hearer with any sleight-of-hand tricks. In No. 4, M. Czerny appears not only in a rational, but almost in an amiable shape. It would have been unpardonable to slay so good an air as this under its parent’s eye. The first variation is a little skittish, but afterwards the composer becomes sober, though very animated, brilliant, and agreeable. The Introduction is the best thing of the kind we ever saw from the pen of M. Czerny. The whole makes a very delightful, and not very difficult, divertimento. Mr. Valentine, in No. 5, has given us a simple, unaffected, good arrangement of one of the most original airs in the opera. This is short, perfectly easy, and is adapted to those whose progress, or practical skill, may deter them from undertaking any of the foregoing pieces.
No. 1 is a pleasing, short waltz, but the grandeur of it, predicated in the title-page, has not been revealed to us, though, doubtless, very apparent to the author. The variations are few, moderate in length, spirited, and though not very novel, are agreeable. The finale, a Polacca, is exhilarating, well put together, and can never lack admirers. No. 2 comprises five well-written waltzes, which will not fail to please. But of what country is the composer? His title would incline us to suppose him a Frenchman, but that the grammar is false. The word waltzer, neither English nor French, tempts us to ask if he is a native of Germany. Perhaps it is not a matter of very singular importance, but we abhor remaining in doubt, and like everything to be in good keeping. No. 3 and 4 possess a sufficiency of agreeable melody, but not of that sort which surprises by its novelty. The quadrilles are all strictly correct, and call for no greater exertion on the part of the performer, than they seem to have cost the composer. INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE PIANO-FORTE, &c., including a variety of Fingered Exercises, favourite Airs, &c. &c., by R. W. KEITH. (Keith, Prowse, and Co.) THIS, it appears, is the fifth edition of the work, though the first that ever fell under our notice. But the word ‘edition’ is not always construed in the same manner by music publishers as by publishers of literature. By the former, a second, &c. impression, of perhaps a hundred copies from the same plates, is sometimes called an edition, though, in point of fact, two thousand copies are always taken from one set of plates, if there is a demand for so many. Correctly speaking, then, an edition of a musical work, printed from pewter plates, and that has a large sale, is never under two thousand; and if, in announcing the present as the ‘fifth edition’ is meant that eight thousand copies have already been sold, we can only express our surprise at never having met with the work till now. Comparing it with many other publications of the same nature, it certainly is entitled to commendation, though far from being perfect; indeed, as we have more than once hinted, a good elementary work: a work which, in method, perspicuity, and accuracy of definition, may rival the didactic publications of the present day in other arts and sciences, is still a desideratum. Mr. Keith is correct in his principles: his examples, though not always judiciously selected, are well fingered, and his annotations are, for the most part, accurate and useful; but his language is frequently not sufficiently precise, his punctuation often involves him in obscurity, and his definitions are sometimes erroneous. For instance, he tells us (page 16), that a bar ‘determines the place on which the accent is laid.’ Now, a bar has nothing whatever to do with determining the accent, it only assists in pointing out the note which is to be accented. Again, in the same page, it is said, that ‘a crescendo is effected on the piano-forte, by pressing down the key immediately after it is struck.’ But the truth is, that loudness, or softness, wholly depends on the force with which the key is struck; pressure after the key is down is useful in the legato style, but cannot, by any possibility, increase or diminish the degree of sound. At page 19, and in many other parts of the book, we read of a ‘grave angle!’ The only representative, in our mind, of a grave angle, is the corner of a tomb-stone. There is but one angle used as a sign in music, and that is an acute angle. We protest most strongly against Mr. Keith’s mode of accompanying the scale, both major and minor: his seventh, on the rising sub-mediant of the former; his minor third, on the dominant of the latter, and his change from the perfect chord to that of 42 on the octave, are opposed to the best authorities, differ from universal practice, are at variance with theory, and, in our opinion, hostile to good taste. In his dictionary of Italian words we likewise find objectionable points. The orthography of several words stands in need of amendment, and the explanation of some is incorrect. Here, also, is a want of that strict definition, which is of so much importance in education. A child, while even learning music, might, if instructed by a well-informed, sensible master, incidentally have her mind opened on many other subjects. We call the author’s attention to these defects, considering them remediable. If amended, his book will, we repeat, be found equal to most of the kind, and superior to many. VOCAL.—DRAMATIC.
THE first and second of the above are one and the same air: it is in three movements; the two last of the bravura kind, and all requiring a voice of great compass and flexibility. The opening reminds the hearer of the most famous of all the Tyrolian airs; and there are passages in the air which at once father it on the composer of Il Crociato. The whole is energetic, and full of dramatic effect. No. 3 was much sung here last season, by Madame Cinti, who can render almost anything agreeable. It would be thought long in the hands of singers of the second class, though there is a great deal of originality in the first movement, and considerable merit in the whole. But the latter part is certainly too much spun out, the first stanza being repeated over and over again till it becomes somewhat fatiguing. The effect of this considerably depends on action; it is therefore better suited to the stage than to concert or drawing-rooms. The three ballads by Mr. Lee all possess a certain degree of insipid prettiness, which enables them to pass uncensured, for they exhibit no fault in composition, or in the setting of the words; while it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to discover a single original trait in any one of them. Hence they are easily understood by an audience, and give not the slightest trouble to either singer or accompanist in private.
No. 1 is as easy to sing as it was to write. The composer certainly did not rack his brains in search of novelty when he put this glee on paper; neither, we are equally sure, did he bestow much thought of any kind on any one line of it. No. 2 is well set, as regards accentuation, and the melody, though made up of not any uncommon phrases and cadences, is far from inelegant, and the whole is quite easy. No. 3, meant to be descriptive of a calm followed by a storm, is not very successful. The first part may perhaps pass, but it was a great mistake to relate the fatal catastrophe in notes which described stillness and security—in a kind of da capo. No. 4 is, we presume, one of those things which the composer has penned down after dinner, to avert a fit of somnolency; which, however, will be transferred to all who listen to this song. No. 5 is a brisk Aubade, or morning-song, which may prove useful in ordinary cases, but has not sufficient potency to rouse the nymph who is cast into a very deep slumber. In the opening symphony, the last bar, the fifth, should be omitted; and in the first bar of page 2, the F must, of course, be sharp. Being natural a second time, in the following verse, may raise a doubt as to the author’s meaning. To No. 6 no fault can be imputed. But though the music is good, and the verses set with great propriety, yet we expected more from so intellectual a composer, the exciting nature of the occasion being considered. No. 7 is indebted to Haydn’s Mermaid’s Song for the commencement. The whole is airy, and quietly but well accompanied; and there is a good deal of variety in the song, just indeed such as the words required. We should be better satisfied with the symphony were the seventh and tenth bars discarded, and a pause given to the last rest in the ninth. The rhythm, in fact, requires this, or some such change, for the last bar here counts for nothing in musical prosody. No. 8 is not equal to some of Mr. Nielson’s songs; there is nothing in it to fix attention, either in melody or accompaniment. The disjunction of the words, bars two and three, page 3, just where they ought to have been joined, is injudicious; and the error is not less in making the last syllable long in ‘companionship,’ and the first so drawlingly slow in ‘apathy.’ No. 9 is just such a cheerful melody as we can imagine a frank, independent, right-thinking Scottish lassie would sing to such words. The song has only the merit of what the schoolmen call congruity. The composer of No. 10 has produced much better things: he has failed in this. No. 11 shows some fancy, much enterprise, but a want of study and experience. No. 12 has the appearance of being an imitation of Charles Smith’s popular song, but exhibits errors not to be found in the model. Between the sixth and seventh bars of page 2 are fifths which few ears will tolerate; these occurring again in the second verse. And in order to have got out of an embarrassment in which the composer evidently found himself while writing bars eight and nine, same page, he should have struck out the Eflat and the first Dflat in the treble staff. There are, nevertheless, symptoms of taste and feeling in parts of this ballad. FLUTE AND PIANO-FORTE.
MUSIC for the flute is seldom written in a learned and laborious manner. With this fact in view, we may venture to say that Kuhlau’s trio for two flutes and piano-forte is a clever composition; it abounds in air, not of a common kind, and the harmony is rich, particularly in the adagio, a short movement in Eflat, full of expression. The first and last movements are in G; the former melodious and elegant; the latter, a gay, brilliant rondo. This is not very difficult for the instruments, though it requires practised performers; and will, we cannot doubt, be exceedingly well received in any small party of connoisseurs. No. 2 is the charming chorus and cavatina, ‘Bel raggio lusinghiere,’ which M. Bucher, according to the practice of too many flutists, has twisted into all kinds of unnatural shapes, by means of variations, in which execution is the only aim of the composer. That much cleverness, in one sense of the word, is evinced in these, we do not deny; but cannot allow that what ought to be the chief object—good and pleasing music, in which the art, not the performer, is most prominent—has been sufficiently, if at all, taken into consideration.
No. 1 is the eternal air in A— certainly very pleasantly and well arranged, moderate in length, and calling for only reasonable powers in the flutist. The accompaniment quite easy. Nos. 2, 3, and 4 form a highly useful work, at least to those who admire modern opera airs. These numbers contain ‘Ah, come rapida!’ from Meyerbeer’s Crociato; ‘Soave e bel contento,’ from Pacini’s Niobe; and ‘Deh! Calma, o ciel!’ from Rossini’s Otello. The flute part is difficult; the accompaniment otherwise. Both are printed together, but the former is also in a detached sheet. FLUTE.
THE ‘old friends’ are Scottish and Irish melodies, the best that could be chosen, with variations to each; some in character with the airs, and suited to the instrument; others yielding to fashion, therefore not remarkable for appropriateness. This little work has an apposite motto, ‘Should auld acquaintance be forgot?’ and those who say ‘nay,’ will do well to purchase the work. No. 2 is the first number we have received of this periodical. It consists of twelve octavo pages, containing short airs, also duets for two flutes, arranged from popular compositions. We find here the six airs performed by Paganini; a waltz; a prelude and adagio, by Gabrielsky, and three other pieces. The work is neatly printed on good paper. |
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