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THE
SYMPHONY
SINCE
BEETHOVEN
THE SYMPHONY
SINCE BEETHOVEN
BY
FELIX WEINGARTNER
(CONDUCTOR OF THE ROYAL SYMPHONY CONCERTS,
THE KAI
MUNICH)
BERLIN, AND OF THE KAIM ORCHESTRA,
Translated from the second German edition
{with the author's permission)
BY
MAUDE BARROWS DUTTON
BOSTON
OLIVER DITSON COMPANY
New York Chicago^
Philadelphia
C. H. DiTSON " Co, Lyon " Hhaly J. E. Ditson " Co.
Copyright, MCMIV, by Oliver Ditson Company
H"^ \ lo %U
W4o
LTHE symphony since BEETHOVENJ
f
TRANSLATION
OF THE
AUTOGRAPH LETTER
London, April 19, 1904.
Miss Maude Barrows Dutton.
Your translation of *" The Symphony Since Bee-thoven
*' has been very highly praised by one of my
friends who is familiar with English, and I am
glad to give you my permission to publish it.
Yours most respectfully,
FELIX WEINGARTNER.
[6]
(Reproduction of Weingartner's Autograph Letter.)
0^
//^IOm^A^^^Wiin^ J/u./^
[7]
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION
The necessity of getting out a second edition
of this book two years after the pubHcation of the
first is a gratifyingproof to me that the thoughts
expressedtherein did not fall upon unfruitful soil,
although nothing was done for their dissemination.
The present edition differs from the first,primarilyin being more carefully finished in style,and
furthermore in a greater precision, to obtain
which some wordy passages have been struck out
and some supplementary ones have been added.
No reader of this edition will suffer under the
false impression that I consider the further devel-opment
of the symphony impossible and speak a
good word for programme music only. It is in-comprehensible
to me how any one could have
read this idea into the first edition.
There have been complaints, also, that I have
overlooked composers. Especiallyin Paris, where
the little book has become known through the
translation made by Madame Chevillard, has this
criticism been raised against me. Although more
names are spoken of here than before, stillthere
are of course many deserving artists who are not
mentioned. My book is not a catalogue,and no
one should expect to find in it just^what he would
in the latter.
Finally,the question is often put to me with no
[9]
Preface to the Second Edition
littlewit,why I, after writingthis book, should
have composed two symphonies,and what was
my aim in doingthis. I will take the trouble here
to answer this query with correspondingwit. Aim
had I none. Both symphonieswere written simplybecause theycame to me.
Felix Weingartner.
Munich, December, 1900.
[10]
THE
SYMPHONY SINCE BEETHOVEN
If in wandering through some Alpine valley,while we were standing awestruck before a colossal
mountain, whose snow-crowned peak rose shim-mering
in the distance, and we were perhaps deem-ing
that man happy whose courage and strength
were great enough to carry him over this peak to
enjoy the view beyond, when suddenly our medi-tations
were interrupted by a voice at our side
saying in all seriousness, 'T am going to climb
over that mountain into the blue clouds beyond,"
we would have little doubt but that we were con-fronted
either by a foolhardy dreamer or a mad-man.
We would scarcely ridicule the man, but
rather look upon his simple faith with eyes of pity.Such a feeling of pity can also seize upon us,
when we come into the full consciousness of Bee-thoven's
greatness, when our whole being becomes
filled with the infinitelydeep significanceof his
compositions, and then meet so many young com-posers
who are striving under the title of sym-phony
to win for themselves money or reputation.
Compared with the inexhaustible wealth of emo-tion
and thought that Beethoven gave us throughhis music, compared with his expression of that
world of feelingswhich embraces the most pow-
y^
The Symphony since Beethoven
erful passionsand the tenderest feelingsof love,the deepest humor and metaphysicaltransporta-tions,
it must at first seem like a foolhardyif not
an insane undertaking," like the drearrf of the
man who would climb the impassablemountain," where works to-day are written in the same
form as Beethoven's symphonies. Richard Wag-ner,not only the greatest musician but also the
greatest musical critic of the last half-century,pours out his bitterest satire on the symphony-writers since Beethoven. He is astonished that
composers saw in Beethoven's creations only the
finished form and gaily went on writingmore
symphonies without observingthat the ''last"
symphony, Beethoven's Ninth, had been given to
the world; without observingthat in this sym-
^ phony lay the extreme emanation of music as a
separate art, as a direct transition to collective art," by which he means works which are freed from
all vagueness by their artistic finish," and that
with its birth the rightof existence of all other
symphonies had in itself to fail. Wagner con-sidered,
at the same time,the "Ninth Symphony"as a precursor of his own lifework,and character-ized
Beethoven's great tone-poem as working a
reform in his mind. Although I have referred
to Wagner's broader treatment of this subjectin
"Opera and Drama," I wish to state clearly,hereat the beginningof this treatise,that on this pointI am not agreed with Wagner. A nature like his,that with such incredible energy sought to reach
its highestgoal,and did reach it,as he was able to
do, must finallylook at all else in the lightof this
Beethoven
goal,and lose to a certain extent that objectivitywhich distinguishesother great men, who are not
in this sense revolutionary,as for instance Goethe.
The questionnext arises: What indeed can be
said of a form which stands there completein
itself,which in relation to its own parts, even in
case of a changeof key, seems almost immovablyplacedunder rule;of a form which after a mas-ter
had filledit with such wonderful content that
it provedtoo small,so that he in the end, after he
had expressedthe vastness of his soul in it,broke
its fetters forever,as Beethoven did in the last
movement of his "Ninth Symphony," as well as in
his last sonatas and quartets? We may questionfurther if it is not the love of experimentation,and
no longerthe art impulse,which leads a composer
to gatherup the debris of form which Beethoven's
geniussnapped asunder and seek to bringthem
togetheragain into a perfectwhole. In fact,we
may justlyask if such composers are capableof
conceivingBeethoven's immortal greatness. In
oppositionto this,it must be emphaticallyassertedthat Beethoven, after he had once deserted the
usual form, did not alwayscontinue to do so. He
in no wise wished his act to be interpretedas the
layingdown of a deliberate principle.The sonata.
Opus loi, which is like a free fantasia,is followed
by the monumental Opus io6,which in its four
giganticmovements is perfectlyrounded off as to
form; the sonatas in E-major and A-fiat major,even freer in their form, are followed by the last
one in C-minor, which, if one overlooks the omis-sion
of the customary quick-movingfinale,is so
[X3]
The Symphony since Beethoven
completein form that Biilow could justlypointitout as a model of its kind. The two quartets in
B-flat major and C-sharp minor stand between
the two in E-flat major and A-minor, which in
form do not deviate in the least from earlier quar-tets.At any rate, it is clear that Beethoven left
the accustomed form only when the arrangementof the entire work requiredit," as, for example,guidedby his inspiration,he introduced the choral
part, with Schiller'swords, into his ''Ninth Sym-phony,"" and that he in no wise treated the form
as -obsolete,althoughat times he steppedbeyondits bounds. Face to face with these examples we
can justlyconjecture,althoughwe can never know,whether Beethoven if he had lived would have
written another symphony in the old form. Wag-nerby his hypothesisof the last symphony seems
to consider it improbable. We can more easilyanswer the question,whether in the present daywhen we see a composer heap up an immense pileof abnormal instrumental and perhapsvocal music
in order to produce tone-picturessurpassingtheold form, if it here also was reallythe deliberate
intention and not perchance onlythe mass of aver-age
work which wore out the form, and if that mass
of average work did not correspondto the crea-tive
power which produced the compositions.If
so, no Phoenix will flyforth from the ashes of the
coolingdebris of form, but, on the contrary, a
thick,strange liquorwill ooze forth from the broken
vessel and fall heavilyto the ground. On the
other hand, in case of a trulysignificantwork, a
trulyinspiredwork which has withstood victori-
Beethoven
ouslythe duly assignedstrugglewith contempo-rary
shortsightedness,one will recognizein its
form and instrumentation,if they do not deviate
too greatlyfrom the customary, onlythe necessary
means for the embodiment of the composer'sin-spiration.
We will no longer measure such a
work by the old laws,but will seek to deduce new \
laws from it.
No musical form has developedfrom its origin
to its incontestable zenith within such a remark-ably
short time as the symphony. The song, for
example,althoughit found its first great master
earlyin this century, is stilldiscoveringthroughthe blendingof words and music, which have
each in their own way adaptedthemselves to the
melodious character of the song, new outlets for ]
itself,so that many a song written since Schubert's
death may fear nothing from a comparisonwith
those of this immortal singer.For the musical
drama, through Richard Wagner's reformatory
deed, innumerable ways now stand open which
depend onlyupon the choice and the poeticalelab-oration
of the subject.And now we must remem-ber
that Haydn- wrote his first symphony about
the year 1760, and that in 1823,onlysixty-three
years later,those harmless,playfullyjoyousere-^
ations had gloriouslydevelopedinto the grandestof tragedies,and Beethoven's '' Ninth Symphony "
had come into being. More than three-quartersof a century have passedbetween the appearanceof that wonderful creation and to-day,and still
in the realm of symphoniesit wears, undisputed,the crown. But as in all spheresof life we ob-
[^5]
The Symphony since Beethoven
serve that a temporary retrogression,often a com-plete
decline,follows the highestdevelopment,soI believe that Nature here,after she had producedHaydn, Mozart, and Beethoven,men of immortal
greatness, needed a period of comparative rest
after the overpoweringstrain. Productive powerhas turned towards the opera, the musical drama,and borne its ripestfruit thus far in Richard
Wagner. But who can therefore conclude that^' music is goingover into the collective arts,"and
consequentlythat the symphony, as well as music
in general,is losingits rightof existence as a sepa-rate
art ? All further developmentdependssolelyon the birth of the rulinggenius,which can neither
be foreseen nor predicted,and when it does come
will cast all calculations to the winds. And if we
cannot know w^ith what contents a future com-poser
will fillthe symphonicform, so is it equallywrong to lay the blame of the degenerationof
symphonic productionssince Beethoven to the
forms beingobsolete. Wagner himself seems to
take back, partiallyat least,what he pronouncedso harshlyin ''Opera and Drama," in that in his
treatise "Upon the Applicationof Music to the
Drama " (VolumeX. of his collected works) he ac-knowledges,
under certain conditions,the possi-bilityof a symphony being written about which
''somethingtoo might be said."
In order to reach a comprehensiveview of this
heretofore only suggestedpossibility,we will wish
to run through, here briefly,there more exten-sively,
the chief works which have been producedin the line of symphonies.
[i6]
The Symphony since Beethoven
called to celebrate his deeds in a great tone-poem,and " as Athene once sprang from the head of
Zeus " the "Eroica Symphony" burst from the
soul of Beethoven. No other artist ever took such
a giganticstride as Beethoven did between his
second and third symphony. He feltin the depthof his great beingthat the ideal life,freed from
the dross of humanity,I might say the true lifeof
a hero,the fruits of his labors,and the full appre-ciationof his worth, comes only after his death.
So Beethoven shows us, only in the first move-ment,
the hero himself,in his wrestlingsand strug-gles,and in the full gloryof victory.As earlyas
the second movement, sounds forth the majesticlament for his death. In the third,that remark-ably
short scherzo,is givena pictureof the human
race, busy one day as another with itself,hurryingby all that is sublime with jestingor indifference,or at most commemorating the hero's deeds with
a resoundingfanfare. In the last movement the
peoplescome togetherfrom the ends of the earth,
bringingbuilding-stonesfor a worthy monument
to the now fullyrecognizedhero," a monument
which cannot be more beautiful than is the love
paid to his memory. This movement surpassesthe first two in its boldness of conceptionandin its polyphonicworking-out,and makes the so
greatlyadmired fugue-finalein Mozart's ''JupiterSymphony
"
seem like a child's toy. When at last
the veil fallsfrom the monument, when the strains
of the consecration music arise,and all eyes filled
w^ith tears look up at the image of the deified hero,then ringupon our ears the sounds that tell us
[x8]
Schubert
that with this symphony, music has learned to
speak a languagefor which it hitherto seemed to
possess no organ.How Beethoven strode further from one won-derful
work to another and finallycrowned all his
efforts with the ''Ninth Symphony," " who does
not lingergladlythere! But I will not speak to
you of Beethoven himself,but of those who came
after him. Perhaps I have alreadydivergedtoofar from my real theme; but, as in wanderingthrough the mountains, " to hold to the simile in
the beginningof this treatise," when we know
that the majesticsnow peak,upon which we have
gazed spellbound,will vanish at the next turn in
the path,it is a temptationto lingerthere and en-joy
itssplendorto the very last,so here I felt that
I must needs say a few words about one of Bee-thoven's
works before he fades from our horizon
to be visiblelater onlyin the far distance.
Turning now completelyaway from our gigan-ticpeak to the surroundingneighborhood,we find
many a pleasantrange of hills,and many a ro-mantic
cliff,that can fascinate and charm us to no
small degree. Such is the case also with the sym-phonieswritten since Beethoven, as far as it is a
questionof the customary symphonic form. We
will find in them beauty and worth, but to appre-ciatethem we must turn completelyaway from
Beethoven.
Close to Beethoven, rather his^ contemporarythan his successor, there appears a wonderful
musician, Franz Schubert. Probably no other
[^9]
^^
The Symphony since Beethoven
musician was ever giftedwith such a wealth of
pure melodic imagination,with such an abundance
of musical invention,combined with the deepestand tenderest sincerityof soul. If we find when-ever
we are allowed to look into the workshops of
Beethoven's mind, a powerfulwrestling,a working,conscious of its goal,for the final musical expres-sion
of his genius,so we see Schubert's fancies
springingand bubblingforth from an inexhaust-ible
fountain. The great number of his works in
comparisonwith the years of his life astounds us.
He died at thirty-one,but he has written much
more than the other masters. His entire beingwas saturated with music. He went on and on
composing,writingdown his fancies without sift-ing
or polishing.Thus he was of a lovable,se-rene
disposition,a thoroughlygenialViennese who
easilysurmounted embarrassments. The miser-able
condition of his poverty-strickenlifecould not
silence the godlikevoice in his soul. ^
^ I mav here relate an anecdote of Schubert which was told me
in the year 1886, by Franz Lachner of Munich, who was a friend of
Schubert in his early years. One fine day Lachner had asked Schu-bert
to make an excursion with him into the country. Schubert
wanted very much to go, but was unable, as he had not a cent in his
pocket. As Lachner was not much better off, the embarrassment
was all the greater. So Schubert gave Lachner a book of songs in
manuscript,asking him to take it to his publisher and to ask for the
fee on it. He said he did not dare go himself, for he had been refused
so often. The publishers (Lachner named Diabelli) proved very
much averse to taking "anything more by that Schubert," sayingthere was no call for his songs. At last,however, he consented, and
gave the magnificentsum of five florins for the manuscript. The two
friends went on their excursion, happy as kings; and findinga spinetin a country inn, Schubert at once played several songs to Lachner,
which had occurred to him on the wav. L^nfortunatelv, Lachner could
not remember exactlywhich they were, but he assured me there was one
of them which is now among the most celebrated of Schubert's songs.
Schubert
This fabulous productivityof Schubert's had of
course this disadvantage,that often insignificantand superficialmusic, which would not be worthyof preservation,came from his pen. Indeed, one
must count half his compositionsas such,but those
of his works that far exceed mediocrityplacehimfor all time in the ranks of the great masters.
I read recentlyin a work on one of the newer com-posers,
that this musician could not reallybe called
a geniusbecause he had not enriched music with
any new forms. How httle of a geniusSchubertmust then have been who, in truth,presenteduswith no new forms, but instead filled the old ones
with extremelyrich and individual contents!
Schubert was the lyricsinger,the Ko.r Hoxnv.
What he wrote, the most joyous as well as the
most tragic,seems to have been imbued alwayswith that gentle,melodious element that causes his
figureto appear, as itwere, throughtears of gentleemotion. A happy warmth floods his music.
Think of the great symphony in C-major. Schu-bert
himself probablynever heard it,and we must
realize with horror that it would have remained
unknown if Robert Schumann had not discovered
it in Vienna, not long after Schubert's death.
How grand it stands before us in its four gloriousmovements ! " the first swellingwith life and
strength,the second a gipsy romance with the
wonderful secret horn motive (theheavenlyguest,as Schumann so beautifullyexpressedit),the
splendidscherzo,and the finale filledwith gigantichumor. No worked-up harmonic effects,no poly-phonic
combinations,awaken our interest,and yet
The Symphony since Beethoven
this work, lastingin performance over an hour
without break, " which is quite unusual for a
symphony, " is able to fascinate us and carry us
along with it. It is quiteincomprehensibleto me
how, in the presence of such a direct expressionof
trulydivine power, there are always those peoplewho find this symphony too long and desire to
shorten it. I do not belong to this class,and con-fess
that whenever I hear this work well conducted,
or conduct it myself,I alwaysexperiencethe most
joyous sensations and become fairlyintoxicated
with the music. Free flyingabout through a
clear and shining ether might perhaps arouse
similar feelings.Nature has denied us this de-light,
but great works of art can giveit.
What shall I say concerningthe two movements
which have been preservedfor us in the B -minor
symphony ? Generallyspeaking,itis a misfortune
if an author is not able to completehis work, but I
might almost call it fortunate that this symphonyhas remained unfinished. The first movement is
of a tragicgreatness that,with the exceptionof
Beethoven, no symphony-writerand Schubert
himself only in some of his songs has attained.
I consider the second theme, given out by the
violoncellos,as one of the most majesticinspira-tions
that was ever permitteda musician to express.
That which thrilled us in the firstmovement as a
mental strife sounds forth in the second mild and
cleared up, as if the composer had alreadysoared
to the eternal realms. According to my opinion,this finale is so satisfyingthat I never have any
desire to hear a continuation of the work after the
Mendelssohn
firsttwo movements. We mightbeheve that Schu-bert,
Hke Beethoven in his piano sonatas, Opus109 and III, wished to close with the slower move-ment,
if we were not led to infer that a continua-tion
was planned,since the second movement is
written in a different key from the beginning.Intruth,there exists an instrumental introduction and
a sketch of a scherzo belongingto the B-minor
symphony which,if one may judgefrom what ex-ists
of it,would not have reached the significanceof the firstmovements. In greatnessand strengthof feelingcombined with the tender lyricalele-ment
that runs like a scarlet thread throughhis
works, Schubert appears like a noble and, as it
were, womanly complement to Beethoven. His
two symphoniesin which his significantpersonal-ityfullyexpresseditself,as well as the stringquar-tetsin D-minor and G-major,and the C-major
quintet,stand in the above sense worthilybesideBeethoven's creations.
The second great contemporary of Beethoven,the composer of ''Der Freischiitz," has producedremarkable w^orks in the field of the piano sonata,but not in that of the symphony. Thus wt turn
from Schubert to the real symphony-writerssince
Beethoven, and firstof all to the clever and ele-gant
Felix Alendelssohn. It may be said of him
that he givesthe lie to the German proverb,'Nomaster fallsfrom heaven." He who at the age of
seventeen, when most of us are merely steppingout of childhood,composed the ".Overture to the
Midsummer Night'sDream," is indeed a master
fallen from heaven. When we think of the elves
[=3]
The Symphony since Beethoven
which Weber showed us in "Oberon," we must
agree with Wagner, who, in reference to the ''Mid-summer
Night'sDream Overture," said that those
were not elves but midgets. But the formal per-fectionand conscious certaintyof invention and
workmanship which the composer showed in this
overture, as well as in the string-octetwritten even
earlier," which is a perfectmasterpiece in the
melodious treatment of stringinstruments," elicit
our astonished admiration,and have been attained
at such an earlyage only by Mozart. ]\lendels-
sohn, after he had written this piece,had noth-ing
more to learn about form. What he would
have had to possess to create works equal to those
of his predecessors,he could not acquire. For
Mendelssohn's peculiargenius demanded that it
should have been born in him, and it was not. An
aristocratic and yet lovable nature, full of poetryand of intellectuality,speaks to us from his music
and letters. Deep passionand subjectivityhe did
not possess. Not until four years before his death,that is seventeen years after he composed the over-ture,
did he write the rest of the music to the
"Midsummer Night's Dream." Almost all of
Mendelssohn's works were composed between these
two dates,and yet it seems to have been written
without a break, so littledifference is to be distin-guished
in the compositions.In contrast, compare
the works of the other great masters between the
writingof which a great lengthof time elapsed.Compare ''The Flying Dutchman" with "Tris-tan;"
Beethoven's firstsymphony with his seventh;Mozart's "Idomeneo" with "The Magic Flute."
The Symphony since Beethoven
stand especiallythe abilityto express perfectlyand continuouslyone's own individualityin some
particularart,to which power belongs,as a very
vital addition,pure technical skill,but this can
and will be attained if the first-mentioned abilityis there. Lying at the bottom of mastery, and ex-pressing
itselfeffectivelyin every importantwork
of art,is a truthfulness which does not attempt to
givemore than it can. This sincerityMendels-sohn
possessedin a high degree;therefore,evenif we do not look upon him as one of the great
men, we must stillconsider him as a very giftedand skilful musician. Hence his compositions,al-though
they lack strong passion,possess a sym-pathetic
perfectionwhich quiteobliterates in the
consideration of his artistic personalitythe ques-tion
of how it w^as done, and leaves onlyto be con-sidered
what it reallyis. His immediate follow-ers
cannot claim a similar mastery of form.
With Mendelssohn began a new epoch in music,
generallyknown as the new-classical. Its repre-sentatives
remain true to the traditions.
in form of
the old masters, but bringinto music a sentimental,
mysticalvagueness that,contrary to the naive, ob-jective
method of their predecessors,calls for a
subjectiveexplanation.Knightlylegendsand the
fairytales of the Middle Ages springagain into
life;the w^orld of elves and spiritsdraws over the
classical ideal of beauty a sort of ghostlikemist.
The periodof ''Hineingeheimnis^en"(hidingse-crets
in a work) sets in. Analogous with an al-most
contemporaneous periodin German poetry,this new-classical epoch has been called the ro-
[26]
Schumann
mantic epoch. Mendelssohn has alwaysbeen the
perfectexamplein his littlesphere. He has al-ways
been the objectiveartist. Before all other
musicians,in relation to the old masters, he de-serves
the predicate''new-classical."The first and the most peculiarlysubjectiveof
the romanticists,if we turn now from the objective,classical romanticist Weber, is Robert Schumann.
His individualitywas diametricallyopposed to
Mendelssohn. Highlygiftedas Mendelssohn was
in mastery of form, was Schumann in inspiration.The former was a perfectartist,even in his early
years; the latter pressedimpetuouslyforward,ceaselesslystrugglingfor somethingnew and more
perfectthan his last endeavor, until gloomy fate
fettered the power of his spirit.In the firstperiodof his works w^e meet Schumann onlyas a piano-forte
composer. Poetical picturesgiverise to his
compositions:he intwines the name of his youth-fullove in a theme and writes variations on it; the
motleyscenes of the carnival givehim the inspira-tionfor one of the most spiritedpianofortepieces
that we possess; Hoffmann's imaginativetales
cause him to write " Kreisleriane " and the signifi-cantsonata in F-sharp minor; he represents"the
two souls that dwell within his breast" by two per-sonalities,
"Florestan" and "Eusebius," and as-cribes
his works now to the one, now to the other.
Violentlyabused by the criticsand musicians who
belongedto a guild,he formed, with friends shar-ing
his opinions,the " Davidsbiindler league,"and dances roughlyabout on the toes of the Phil-istines.
I may as well say at once that Schumann
[^7]
The Symphony since Beethoven
achieved his greatestsignificanceas a pianoforte
composer, as the poet of the pianoforte,one mightalmost say. Here he possessedthe sincerityof
the great masters; here he is justwhat he is,v^ith
no pretence of being more. New, daringconcep-tions
speak to us from these works, and we meet,
even to-day,the offeringsof his rich imaginationwith unabated dehght. His treatment of the
pianoforteis also originaland thoroughlyadaptedto the nature of the instrument as well as to the
musical thought,while, on the other hand, his
management of the orchestra leaves,as we shall
see later,almost everythingto be desired.
At the age of thirty-onehe firstturns his atten-tion
to the greater forms of music, among others
to the symphony. Mendelssohn's brilliant figure
moving with playfulease through all the domains
of music was the shiningideal in Schumann's
earlylife and works, " much to the latter's dis-advantage.
In the attempt to imitate Mendels-sohn,
to attain the same finish," in the endeavor,
as I might say, to be classical," his own origi-nalitysuffered severelywithout his beingable to
reach his model. Throughout his lifethe spiritof
romance and fantasy forced its way into his
works, but no longeras it did in his youth. A
strange and to a certain extent ingraftedelement," that very Mendelssohnian polishwhich he
struggledin vain to acquire," robs his later
works of that spontaneitywhich charmed us so in
his firstcompositions.His talent,which bore in
smaller forms such preciousfruit,became, without
growing richer,pulledin this way and that into
[.8]
Schu mann
greaterdimensions,and therefore thinner and more
thread-Hke; he was requiredto yieldmore than
he possessed.His productivityand versatiHtywere nevertheless astonishinglygreat, even in the
second periodof his creative work, for there is
hardlya musical form which he did not attempt.Since he, apparentlyin consequence of his beinga free-thinker,was averse to writingoratorios with
biblical text,he accordinglychose secular poems,
even fragments from Goethe's ''
Faust," for his
compositionswhich are sort of half-waybetween
operas and oratorios. Besides numerous songs,
many of which are among our very best,Schumann
wrote concertos,chamber music of all kinds,melo-dramas,
one opera, and, as is to be expectedfromsuch a versatile artist,also symphonies. I sup-pose
many of you will now look upon me as a
heretic when I openlyacknowledgethat I count
Schumann's symphoniesas in no wise among his
most importantworks.In his pianofortepiecesthe invention of little,
but very expressive,themes, which he knew how
to vary and use in an ingeniousmanner, is verycharacteristic. In his great symphonies he does
not succeed with these themes and themelets,how-ever
warm and beautiful the feelingmay have
been from which they sprang. If you examine
his orchestral piecesclosely,you will find that he
was often forced to repeat singlebars or groupsof bars in order to spinout the thread further,be-cause
the theme in itselfis too small for such con-tinuation.
Sometimes even the theme itself is
formed through the repetitionof this and that
[^9]
The Symphony since Beethoven
phrase. On account of these copioustonic and
consequentlyrhythmicalrepetitions,his greater
piecesfor the orchestra become naturallymonoto-nous.
One can retaliate that the theme of the
firstmovement of Beethoven's C-minor symphonyis much smaller than Schumann's themes. Here
is the real difference between the two: in Bee-thoven's
work, after the firstentrance of the theme,
consistingof four notes, a simplemelody, which
makes use of the originaltheme onlyfor rhythmicalframework and not reallyfor its own spinning
out, arises over the pause of the firstviolins and
the repetitionof the theme in A-flat " F, and
evolves from itselfup to the second subject(en-tranceof the horns in E-flat major). But in
Schumann's works the melodious flow of the com-position
is preservedonly by the repetitionof
themes as such, and the takingrefugein phraseswhich do not grow out of the subject.This weak-ness
of Schumann's is most apparent in the first
movements, and in the finales,of his symphonies,which " with the exceptionof the finale of the
B-flat major symphony, which is gracefulin its
principaltheme, but not impcn*tant" are conven-tional
and noisy. Involuntarilywe ask ourselves
why we must alwaysrejoiceat the end of this sym-phony,
while in Beethoven's works in a similar case
the thouojhtnever arises? The reason is because
in the latter'sworks the rejoicingfollows with psy-chological
necessityfrom the conqueredgrief,as in
the C-minor or the ninth,or is alreadycontainedin the elementaryground voice of the entire work,as in the seventh symphony. In placeof the great,
[30]
Schu mann
broad adagioof the Beethoven symphony appear
in Schumann's pleasing,melodious, lyricalinter-mezzi,
which are much better suited to the piano-fortethan to the orchestra. In the main, a Schu-mann
symphony is more effective played as a
pianoforteduet than in a concert hall. The reason
lies in a circumstance which the most uncondi-tional
admirers of Schumann can scarcelyavoid
recognizing," namely,he did not know how to
handle the orchestra,either as director or com-poser.
He worked almost always with the full
material,but did not take the pains to elaborate
the parts accordingto the character of the sepa-rate
instruments. With almost childlike stupidityhe expected to obtain fulness and strengthbydoublingthe instruments. Therefore, the instru-mentation
is heavy and inflexible,the color gray
againstgray, the most importantthemes, if playedaccording to his directions,sometimes cannot be
heard, and a true forteis about as impossibleas a
true piano. Whenever I see the playersworkingwith all their might,and compare, as a conductor,the labor of the rehearsals and the performancewith the final effect,there comes over me a feelingsimilar to that I have towards a person in whom
I expectedto find mutual friendshipand was dis-appointed.
No sign of life gleams in this apa-thetic
orchestra,which, if given even a simpleMen-
delssohnian pieceto play,seems quitetransformed.Schumann's symphonies are composed for the
pianoforte,and arranged" unhappily,not well at
that " for the orchestra. To be sure, in these
works there are flashes of genius,beautifullydeep
The Symphony since Beethoven
and moving passages that recall the earliest periodof the composer'swork, as for examplethe intro-duction
to theB-flat major symphony,which prom-ises
great power. The middle movements up to
the first trio of the scherzo,which is quitemean-ingless
and makes Schumann's weakness most
frightfullyapparent, are more importantthan the
first. In my opinion,the adagioespressivoof the
C-major symphony, with the ideal ascendingand
descendingfigurefor the violins,is the best move-ment
in all of his four symphonies.Schumann, as an orchestral composer, appears
quitedifferent when he conceives some poeticalin-spiration
that is congenialto him, as for instance
Byron's "Manfred." Then he loses his desire to
be classical;he dares to be what he is,the imagi-nativeromanticist leaningtowards the supernat-ural
and the mysterious.In this mood, wdiich
was closelyakin to his nature, he succeeded in
writinga pieceof music that can with all justicebe called classical. That wonderfullyplannedand unusuallyloftyoverture to "Manfred," in
which piecehe was also more fortunate in his or-chestration,
is his only pieceof orchestral music
which can be compared with that he wrote for the
- pianoforte.From the rest of the " Manfred " score',
we can see that,under certain circumstances,even
an artisticabsurdity,hke the melodrama, may be
of overwhelming effect if a great spiritwanderswithin its precinct.I am thinkinghere above all
of "The Conjurationof Astarte." This scene, if
well performedby actor and orchestra,leaves in
its overpoweringeffect no wish unsatisfied,least
[3^]
The Symphony since Beethoven
whose gloryhe should have participated,turnedfrom him first indifferentlyand then hostilely.Those who love Schumann should try to erase
from their memories his small grumblings over
'' Tannhauser." He turned from Wagner to herald
a young musician,justcoming into publicnotice
through his pianofortesonatas, with the spiritedcry that here was the future Messiah of music.
This young musician was Johannes Brahms.
The destinyof this artist was prefiguredinSchumann's prophecy. He was to be held up as
a counterweightby the enemies of the bold opera
reformer,he was to be the advocate of so-called
''absolute" music in oppositionto poeticalmusic,
programme music, and the music of the future.
In truth,Brahms owed, I do not say his signifi-cance,but a great deal of his reputation,which
came to him very early,in comparison with other
composers, to the unceasingefforts of a band of
antagoniststo the Bayreuth master who lost no
opportunityof playingBrahms off againstWag-ner.There was no sense in this sort of rivalry,
for,in the firstplace,in spiteof Wagner's detailed
treatise on the subject,the dift'erence between ab-solute
music which is ascribed to the symphony-writer in oppositionto the composer of dramas,and other music, is not of such weighty impor-tance
as it isgenerallybelieved to-dayto be. Mu-sic
that one can call "absolute,"in a certain sense,
that is,music which is fabricated without any in-stigation,
formal conglomerationsof notes and tri-fling
with phrases,flows often from the pen of a
Philistine to art,but is not worthyof consideration
[34]
Brah ms
on account of its tediousness ; and itis therefore a
matter of indifference whether a work in question
coquetteswith the new-classical school,the mod-ern,
or both. All other kinds of music,even with-out
song or programme, betraythe spiritualin-fluence
of the composer. In this sense none of
our great masters were absolute musicians,"
Beethoven least of all. Then there is somethingelse that is much too often overlooked by those
who use the power of position,or of influence,orof the pen, in order to be able,throughthe degra-dation,
slander,or belittlement of one figure,toraise another one better suited for their purposes
upon the shoulders of the party runners " yes, is
too often overlooked by those who out of blind
fanaticism,or from other reasons than the real
esteem of what is offered them, are friends or foes
of those who wish to mould public recogni-tionaccording to their opinion: " namely, the
slow but surelyconqueringstrengthof the truth. ^
Manufactured, ungenuine success is like a rush-ing
whirlpoolcaused by a heavy rain. It rushes
suddenly over the spot where usuallyno water
flows,bearingwith it all that comes in its way.After a short time no trace of it is to be seen.
True, genuine success is like the springhiddendeep in the earth. First it flows for a longwhileunnoticed,a thin thread of water, then becomes
a brook, then a river,then a flood,and finds its
last outlet in the sea of eternity.One may try to
^ I do not direct these remarks, and the following,againstBrahmshimself. One had only to know the plain,straightforwardartist,tobe certain that he held himself quitealoof from intrigueand flattery.
[35]
The Symphony since Beethoven
uproot the springor dam itup, but italwaysgushesforth anew.
Fortunately,it is an established fact to-daythatthe zeal of the "Brahmsians" could not take one
tittlefrom Wagner's greatness,and it underlies all
doubt that Brahms also,in spiteof the all too
zealous attacks directed toward him by certain re-venging
Wagnerians,will receive his befittingplacein the historyof music. Time is the severest
judge. She devours what belongsto her. Onlywhat stands above her she cannot touch. Justhow far Brahms belongsto the immortals we to-day
cannot with any certaintydecide. Unques-tionably
many who are not his blind worshipperswould feel more sympathy for him if it were not
for two reasons: first,the above-mentioned fact
of his being playedoff successfullyas a counter-weight
to Wagner's greatness," which is no longerdone to-day; second, the linkingof the three" B's,"" Bach, Beethoven,and Brahms. This last
was a witticism of Billow's which, though it origi-natedfor a personalmotive,has found perhapsall
the more favor on that account ; for," let me
speak it out now again after so many others have
done so, " Billow never would have made it for
Brahms' s propagandabut for his breach with W^ag-
ner, so painfulto himself and so lamentable for
all future encouragement to art. In this instance
a great,and, in the depth of his soul,a noble man
fellinto the error, so often committed by small and
malicious natures, of making sport of one artist's
fame in order to stiflethe fame of another. If
one reads Billow's letters,and compares them with
[36]
Brahms
what he said and effected in the latter years of his
hfe, it is impossiblenot to lament that such a
character and spiritas his stood off from Wagner'swork, and hence from the new developmentofmusic in general,justat the time when he was
especiallyneeded there. If,in the case of other
great artists,the strugglewith which theywere
forced to piercetheir way throughthe misunder-standing
and stupidityof their contemporaries,causes a holylightto enshroud their figures,onewill remember unwillinglyin the case of Brahms
" be itgrantedthat he took no active part in this
game " that he was on the one side supportedby a party, and on the other by a famous con-ductor,
whose slightestwhims brought about a
thousand adherents,and that both of these en-deavored
to raise him up in oppositionto an artist
far greater than he. In the followingI will tryto picturethe impressionwhich his compositionsalone have made upon me.^
When Brahms presentedhis first symphony,there went forth the cry from the camp of his
friends, ''This is the tenth symphony." Of
course Beethoven's tenth was meant by that. Al-lowing
for all exaggeration,there stillremains for
me in Brahms's C-minor symphony a masterly
^ I expresslywish to state that I am no longer fullyagreed with
the followingcriticism of Brahms. The weaker works which could
be affected by it are by far in the minority. I look up to most of
the others in love and admiration. If I now, in spiteof this fact,leave the followingremarks for the present unchanged, so I consider
It only honorable openly and franklyto confess my error. " F. W.
Translator's Note. " This note does not appear in either
the German edition of 1898 or 1901. It was sent me by the author
with the request that it be inserted in my translation. " M. B. D.
[37]
The Symphony since Beethoven
worked-out pieceof music of inflexible,austere
character,which correspondsmuch more with my
idea of a symphony than Schumann's and also is
much more skilfullyorchestrated. I esteem chieflythe adagio,and above all the beautiful,slow intro-duction
to the last movement; the horn, that after
the gloomy minor sounds throughthe tremolo of
the stringsin C-major bringsout a very intense
eftect,justlike the sun gleaming throughthe ris-ing
morning mist. Brahms drew back from the
often vague romanticism of Schumann, and soughtto approachthe energeticand plasticmode of ut-terance
of the old masters; above all,of Beethoven.
He succeeds in attaininga certain resemblance in
the firstand last movements of his C-major sym-phony,
a resemblance similar at any rate to that
which a concave mirror givesof our face. The
second symphony in D-major I placehigh above
the first. In none of his other works does Brahms's
springof invention flow so freshlyand spontane-ously
as in this one; never before or afterwards
did he handle the orchestra so sonorously. The
first movement is,from its beginningto its end,
a masterpiece.The second,a slower movement,
can be satisfactorilycomprehendedonlyafter fre-quent
hearing. It is difficultfor it to disclose
itselfto the musical mind, but itdoes itthoroughlyin the end. If I may be allowed the comparison,I should like to suggest a Dutch landscapeat sun-set.
The eye at first sees nothing but the skyover the wide, wide plain;heedlesslyand almost
wearilyit lets the glancepass over it. Graduallya feelingarises,quietly,from afar,and speaksto
[38]
Brahms
us. The intermezzo, in the form of a minuet, is
a gracefultriflealmost too insignificantfor the
other three movements. The finale givesa pow-erfulclose to this work, which I esteem above all
four of Schumann's symphonies," in fact even
count among the best symphonieswhich have been
written since Beethoven in the new-classical school.
As in the case of Schumann, I consider Brahms's
last two symphoniesinferior to his firstones. In
these works reappears, accordingto my opinion,asubtle element,arisingmore from reflection than-
from real artistic feeling,which is peculiartoBrahms, and from which he could never quitefreehimself. I would like to speak more in detail of
this. I will remark righthere that I prizecertainother works of Brahms in the same degreeas the
second symphony," as, for instance,the " German
Requiem," several songs, the ''Songof Destiny,"and portionsof his chamber music," but I must
add that these works are free,at least more than
the others,from that ponderingelement which
clingsto Brahms's creations and which soon be-came
a mannerism with him. By this specialman-nerism
of Brahms, I understand certain means
which occur again and again in the construction
of his compositions.A favorite device with
Brahms is syncopation: that is,displacingthe bass
againstthe rhythmof the upper parts,or vice versa, ,
so that the one hobbles,as it were,- after the other. ^^This syncopationis a peculiarthing. Think of a v-
simplemelody,consistingof crotchets,with a har-monic
accompaniment,and then let the bass notes
not come exactlywith the correspondingnotes of
[39]
The Symphony since Beethoven
the melody, but always a quaver behind; then
the whole will assume a very strange and learned
aspect, without gainingin intrinsic value. It is
justas if some one were to make a most solemn
face to say the most simple thing in the world.
^ '^Furthermore,Brahms loved to combine a rhythm--^ of two beats with one of three beats,thus pro-
m*^ ducing a form which, if used on a long stretch or
' often,causes a feelingof disagreeablevacillation.Another of his mannerisms is to let the upper voice,
""^^ or oftener the middle parts or the bass,be dccom-
^ panied by thirds,or stilloftener by sixths,and^^ then again to mix up the parts with artificialsyn-^^ copation.Entire sections of his works are built
^^ ^
up in this way. There are certain tone-combina-
c^*^ tions,and indeed actual themes, made from the
fifth of the common chord,togetherwith the third
above," alwaysavoidingthe keynote," which we
come across so frequentlythat a clever causeur
recentlypointedout the phrase
"-
as the "Brahms leit-motif." If you look for these
mannerisms in Brahms' s various kinds of compo-sitions,
you will find my statements confirmed,even
though many of you will not agree with my de-ductions.
Indeed, I believe that the complicatedcharacter of the harmony, rhythm, and melody,(which,by the way, is called by his partisans'
' depthof meaning") resultingfrom these mannerisms, "
[40]
The Symphony since Beethoven
nations of unequal rhythms,and by those curious
additions of thirds and sixths,and then here and
there comes in that artificial simplicity,one re-ceives
the impressionthat the composer wished to
stop the flightof his own genius,and, fearingthe
betrayalof his innermost feelings,preferredtoclothe himself in silence and rather let the listener
divine what he wanted to say, than actuallysay it.
It is a bad sign when a composer can be con-victed
of a mannerism. Who could do this with
the great masters? How similar Haydn's com-positions
are, and yet how different;what a gulfliesbetween ''The Marriage of Figaro" and "The
Magic Flute!" Who could speak seriouslyof a
Beethoven or a Wagner mannerism? Let any
one who does not believe this,attempt to parodythe great masters; that is,to present to us in an
exaggeratedway whatever their mannerism is sup-posed
to be. He would either not succeed,or else
only very clumsily,as do those who, for example,work Wagner themes into quadrillesor marches
" which is blasphemy,but not parody. But it is
very easy to write a parody on Brahms, and it has
alreadybeen done very brilliantlyby Moritz Mosz-
kowsky. The same may be said of actual imita-tion.
When we hear modern chamber music,written in Brahms's style,oftentimes,if we did not
know the composer's name, we would accept it
in good faith for a pieceby Brahms himself ; while
I believe that no one hearing under similar cir-cumstances
a pieceout of an opera of one of our
*'New German" composers would confuse it with
one of Was^ner's."o'
Brahms
I have not contented myselfafter the custom of
many Wagnerians,to stop my ears and sneer, in
imitation of respectiveplacesin Wagner's col-lected
works, whenever I am confronted by the
artisticpersonalityof Brahms. I have gone over
and studied deeplythe greaterpart of his works.
When I dissected this kind of music my intellect
alwaysgrew. I admired the work and the con-struction,
and found therein the same joy that a
physicianperhaps feels when he lays bare the
muscles of a beautifullydevelopeddead body.If I let itwork upon me as a whole, I experience,except by the works alreadymentioned, that sick-ening
faintness that must come over the same phy-sicianwhen he dares to w^ish to bringto lifeagain
the corpse which he has but justdissected.Brahms is always a master of form. His works
appear^ in faultless technical perfection.But
warm, pulsatinglife I have discovered only in a
few of them, but these are, indeed,the more valu-able
because in them beautiful thoughtsare united
with perfectform, and one feels at once that it was
permittedthe author to pour forth in a happyhour a free utterance of his individual nature.
What was it that hindered him so often from ex-pressing
himself in this way? This seems to me
to be the answer : he beheved himself to be what
Schumann had prophesiedand what his later parti-sansconstantlyclaimed him to be, " ''the Mes-siah
of absolute music," the ''successor of Bee-thoven."
Incidentally,while speakingof his first
symphony, I have alreadypointedto an exterior
resemblance to Beethoven. We see also many a
[43]
The Symphony since Beethoven
time how he strove, without falhnginto reminis-cence,
to imitate the pecuHaritiesof styleof the
last periodof the master's works, those bold,se-
^^verelyharmonic transitions,those manifold rhyth-V^ifnc combinations (which became in the case of
Brahms his typicalsyncopation),and those often
apparentlyscattered melodious steps. But it was
never permittedhim to attain to Beethoven's pro-foundness,
which the artist must possess within his
own nature. Brahms could onlyassume the mask.
Thus in his works, in spiteof the outward simi-larity,
we find only abstract idea,while in Bee-thoven's
is revealed the real essence of music.
Brahms's music as a whole " if I may be allowed
the expression" is scientific music, a playingwith tone forms and phrases,but not that most
expressiveand comprehensibleworld-languagewhich our great masters could and had to speak,that languagewhich arouses us and strikes to our
very souls,because we recognizein it our own
selves with our own joysand our own sorrows,
our own strugglesand our own victories. Their
music is artistic. Brahms's is artificial. It is not
akin to Beethoven's,but lies at the oppositepole," isjustwhat Beethoven's music is not. Its char-acter
is,therefore,reallymore abstract,repellingthose who would approach,and stimulatingthe in-tellect
more than the feelings.It is a character-istic
experienceof mine that those works of Brahms
which attract my attention as beinghis most re-markable
productionsare by no means considered
as the best by strong ''Brahmsians." They pointout among others the ''Triumph-lied,"the fourth
[44l
Bruckner
sympKony,the clarinet quintet,which are to my
mind bare tone-scaffolding.And justthis cool
styleof composing,oftentimes showing a marked
tendencyfor a feelingno longerfree,but reflective
and mannered, as well as the fact that Brahms
went out of his way to avoid any purelysensuous -
charm of sound, either in melody or instrumen-tation,
that gave him the reputationof having
escaped the erroneous ways of the modern com-posers.
He is probablythe last great artist who will
deserve this reputation.New thoughtsabout mu-sic
have come from another side,new inventions
have broken paths through for themselves,new
composers have taken up the strugglewith the
guardiansof the classic ideals of form. We may
say to-daythat these last were in the end the vic-tors.
Before we turn our attention to the so-
called "modern school,"I must mention several
isolated artists who were certainlyinfluenced bythat school but who did not belongto it,and stand,
therefore,as connecting-linksbetween the two
schools.
During the last ten years many a time there has
been mentioned the name of a powerfulrival in
connection with Brahms, " a rival who arose in
Brahms's second home-city,Vienna, which seems
destined to be the cityof symphony-writers.An-ton
Bruckner, althoughhe was much older than
Brahms, came into publicrecognitionmuch later.
His reputationwas by no means general,but rather
confined itself to a specialparty. What attracts
us in this composer is his wealth of invention,the
[45]
The Symphony since Beethoven
pregnancy of his themes,and the astonishinglong-windedness of his melodies. He was a richlytalented musician. One would almost be temptedto compare him to his great compatriotSchubertin this respectif he had onlyproduced some work
which kept on a uniform level of excellence so as
to be trulycalled a masterpiece. This is not the
case, for,unfortunately,his abilityto utilize his in-spirations,
to bind them one to another,and so
build up the compositionorganically,did not keeppace with his inventive powers. I cannot share
the opinionof his pupilsand admirers,that he was
a greatmaster of counterpoint.He may have been
so as a teacher;but in his compositionsthe purelytechnical part is often aw^kward,the polyphonictexture of the parts often doubtful and lackinginclearness,and the organicstructure alwaysinter-broken. His wonderful themes are more like
pearlsstrung on a stringthan organicallyconnected.This is why Bruckner's power usuallydeserts him
in the finales of his symphonies, which should
contain the climax,and causes the last movement
to be inferior to the others,which is not favorable
to his success. This also explainsthe breakingdown, fragmentarymanner of his compositions,"a manner which does not admit of pure enjoy-ment.
One is almost inclined to wish that he had
had fewer inspirations,but that the structure of his
creations had been more logical,uniform,and car-ried
out with a more definite aim in view. Often
the noblest thoughtsflutteraway into an ineffective
nothingnessbecause they come into beingbut are
not worked out. This is the more irritatingsince
[46]
Bruckner
his themes resemble Wagner's dramaticallysym-bolic
motives. Could they but have been worked
out psychologicallyby a masterlyhand, Bruckner
would have stood before us a shininglightand
led us on to make comparisons. Bruckner also
lapsesinto mannerisms. Endings over an oft re-peated
bass passage, " in imitation of the close
of the firstmovement of the " Ninth Symphony," "
certain peculiarlyempty-soundingpassages (hisadmirers call them passages soaringfar from the
world)in his slower movements, thematic figures,w^ith a simultaneous sounding of these same fig-ures
in the counter-movement as if they had worn
themselves out playing,and, finally,those unbear-able
generalpauses and breathingpauses which
for the most part givethe impressionthat he has
lost his w^ay, are mannerisms found in all of his
works with which I am acquainted.What elicitsour sympathy for Bruckner both as
man and artist,and also what had a great deal to
do with his future reputation,was his largeideal-ism,
a characteristic altogethertoo rare in our
day. Think of this schoolmaster and organist,risen from the poorest surroundingsand totally
lackingin education,but steadfastlycomposingsymphonies of dimensions hitherto unheard of,crowded with difiicultiesand solecisms of allkinds,which were the horrors of conductors,performers,listeners,and critics,because theyinterfered sadlywith their comfort. Think of him thus goingun-swervingly
alonghis way toward the goalhe had
set himself,in the most absolute certaintyof not
beingnoticed,and of attainingnothingbut failure
[47]
The Symphony since Beethoven
" and then compare him with our fashionable
composers, borne on by dailysuccess and adver-tisement,
who puzzleout their trifleswith the ut-most
raffinerie; and then bow in homage to this
man, great and patheticin his naivete and his
honesty. I confess that scarcelyanythingin the
new symphonic music can weave itselfabout me
with such wonderful magic as can a singlethemeor a few measures from Bruckner. I am think-ing,
for example,of the beginningof the " Romantic
Symphony." To be sure, this magic diminishes in
the course of the work, and vanishes more and
more as one studies the piece,for greatand beauti-ful
sentiments continue to satisfyus only when
theyare presentedin artisticallyperfectform. In
the strife between the Brahms and Bruckner fac-tions
in Vienna I was once asked my opinionofthe two men. I repliedthat I wished that nature
had givenus one master in whom the character-istics
of both composers were united," the mon-strous
imaginationof Bruckner with the eminent
possibilitiesof Brahms. That would have givenonce more a great artist.
Here honorable mention must also be made of
an artist quiteworthy of celebration,who was re-lated
to Bruckner in his high idealism,and who,
accordingto my opinion,stands higheras a writer
of one-act operas than as a dramatic or symphonic
composer. I refer to Alexander Ritter,the friend
and nephew of Wagner.Of other German composers I mention next the
most prolificwriter,Joachim Raff,whose principalworks are his poeticsymphony "Im Walde" and
[48]
The Symphony since Beethoven
composer, Alexander Borodin, is of a genuinena-tional
character,a masterpieceof its kind,and the
most significantwork of the new Russian school
that I know. This pieceis so pregnant and char-acteristic
that I alwaysfeel as if one merely from
hearing this music must get a pictureof Russia
and her people,even if one had never visited that
land. As far as regardspublicrecognition,the
French composers, Cesar Frank and Camille
Saint-Saens,have fared much better. The former
has created in his D-minor symphony a signifi-cantwork; the latter has acquittedhimself hap-pily
and successfullyin the line of symphoniesand
symphonic poems. At a somewhat earlier date
Vincent d'Indy,who was influenced by modern
German art,producedsome noteworthythingsin
France. The compositionsof the young Russian,Alexander Glazonnow, offer much that is interest-ing.
A talented maiden-attemptin the symphonyhas come from the hand of Joseph Suk. Carl
Goldmark's "Landliche Hochzeit " (a country
wedding) has found considerable circulation.
Those are not peasants that we see in this com-position,
but spoilttownfolk who have conceived
the idea of celebratingthe wedding of a bridal
pairof their acquaintancein the country. Often
we perceivethe perfume of the drawing-room in
those sounds which are supposedto be pastoral.Aside from this,Goldmark's work is a brilliant,
interestingpieceof music,worthy of performanceand of universal applause.Let me also notice A.
Rubinstein's honest endeavor to awaken the classic
symphony to new life. Only once, however,in some
[50]
Tschaikowsky
of the movements of his " Ocean Symphony,"has he succeeded in risingabove the dull string-ing
togetherof musical phrases. With immense
success the Peter Tschaikowsky's "SymphonicPathetique"has made its way throughthe con-cert
halls of Germany duringthe last four years,
callingattention also to the earlier works of this
composer. It resembles an effective drama, rich
in excitingand fascinatingsituations,and its effect
upon the publicnever fails. It is said that Tschai-kowsky
himself feared that it never would be con-sidered
as a symphony. It is true that it departsfrom the usual form, both in the arrangementand the construction of the separate movements.
In the firstmovement the form may be traced,butthe construction is free. The middle movements
are quiteconcise,w^hile the last is free again.Moreover, this comes from the adagio,which,as a
rule,stands in the middle of a symphony; but the
fundamental idea demanded a close which should
lose itselfin gloomy darkness. It is said that the
forebodingof death guided the composer'spen as
he wrote this work; he therefore departedfrom
the usual form for the sake of a poeticalidea.It may serve for a definite purpose in the sec-ond
part of this book to turn our attention to a
consideration of the so-called modern school,andwriters of programme music.
" """""""
About the time of Beethoven's death there
arose among our Western neighborsin France a
remarkable artist,whose greatness and far-spread-ingsignificancein music have been recognizedonly
[5^]
The Symphony since Beethoven
for a comparativelyshort time," namely,HectorBerlioz. The most remarkable of his earlypieces,the ''Symphonic Fantastique"(Opus 14a),is so
originalthat we are not surprised,consideringthe
common tendencyarisingeverywhereto denounce
the new, rather than prove its worth by careful
investigation,that such a work was looked upon
as a monstrosityby such eminent men as Cheru-
bini,and was absolutelyincomprehensibleto the
generalpublic,upon whom it rather made the im-pression
of a violent fright.Berlioz,during his
lifetime,obtained much the same effect with his
later works, although Liszt's untiringefforts at
lengthwon some consideration for them in Ger-many.
It was not until long after his death,
throughrepeatedand excellent performances,first
by Billow and later by others,that the high worth
of his compositionsbecame felt and understood,in spiteof the many external peculiarities.At last
the sweet kernel has been found within the roughshell.
If we ask ourselves,with Berlioz's intimate
friends,how it was possiblefor such inspiredworks, which are now so universallyadmired, to
have been looked upon for decades as the pro-ductionsof a half-diseased mind, we find three
possibleexplanations.At firstacquaintanceBer-lioz's
musical invention appears reserved and un-approachable.
None of his melodious phrasesbear a character like,e.g., the celebrated clarinet
melody in the "Freischiitz Overture," or like
Schubert's themes which irresistiblybewitch the
ear and heart of the listener. We imagine at first
[5^]
Berlioz
that we find a coolness and even a harshness in
those very strains which are seeking to express
passionand consuming fire. Berlioz's music re-minds
one of those rare human physiognomieswhich appear unsympatheticuntil,after closer ob-servation,
we discern the mental storms and strug-gles
of which those angularfeatures,those deep,scarred furrows,and those sad, weird eyes give
testimony. Any one who has studied a good pic-tureof Berlioz will understand my meaning. An-other
reason why he remained for so long a time
misunderstood is his abnormal and grotesque bold-ness
in instrumentation. Not onlydoes he bringinto play a largernumber of orchestral means
than usual,but his manner of usingthese means,
the great demands that he makes upon the tech-nical
skillof the musicians,his extraordinarydeh-
cate sense for the combinations of tone color,his
full appreciationof clearness in design,all these
giveto his treatment of the orchestra that pecul-iar
coloringwhich did not exist before him and
has not been imitated since. This, likewise,has
induced ignorantor ill-willedcritics to say that
Berlioz first invented the instrumental effect and
then adaptedthe music to it. And yet his instru-mentation
does not show that sensuous element
which seems to carry us along on the waves of
sound, as in Weber's orchestra,which was also
built up with wonderful boldness^ as regardsthe
various utihzation of the instruments, and as it
finallyappears in the hitherto most perfectorches-tra,
that of Wagner. We are dazzled by Berlioz's
orchestration,but not intoxicated;itis brightsun-
[53]
The Symphony since Beethoven
shine upon lightgreen leaves around which a clear^
pure air is playing; the deep fragranceof the spicyshade in the pine wood is lacking. The third
cause which renders the understandingof Berlioz
difficultlies in the materials and poeticalsubjectswhich he chose for his works, as also in the rela-tion
in which his music stands to those subjects,and the way in which it illustrates them.
Let us first consider the ''SymphonicFantas-
tique." Berlioz has headed it with a programmewhich describes each of the movements separately.This is an indication of the poeticaltenor that the
listener is to bear in mind the while the symphonyis beingplayed. This proceedingwas in no wise
extraordinary.It would be very gratifyingif some
musical historian would establish the fact once for
all that what is lightlycalled ''programmemusic,"
nowadays,is by no means an invention of modern
composers. The endeavor to express definite
thoughts,yes, even events,by music is,apparently,as old as music itself. We find compositionsbearing titles and explanationsamong the old
Dutch and Italian composers just as frequentlyas with the German masters before Bach. Thayer,in his excellent biographyof Beethoven, mentions
a number of'
long-forgottencompositions,datingfrom the beginningof the century, which either
bore titles for the whole piece,or had specialnames for the separatemovements, " for example,
generaltitle,"The Naval Battle;"firstmovement,the beatingof the drums; second movement, war-like
music and marches; third movement, motion
of the ship; fourth movement, cruisingover the
[54]
Berlioz
waves ; fifthmovement, firingof the cannon ; sixth
movement, cries of the wounded; seventh move-ment,
victorious shouts of the triumphantfleet.Great battles and events of politicalimportancehave always excited the imaginationof contem-porary
musicians. Beethoven himself did not dis-dain
to compose a piecein honor of Wellington'svictory,and in Wagner's "Kaiser March" we hear
the artistic echo of the successful war. Espe-ciallyimportantappears to us the followingpro-gramme
quotedby Thayer: "The delightfullifeof a shepherd,broken in upon by a thunder-storm,which, however, passes over, and then the naive
joy on that account." Who does not here recog-nizethe suggestionfor a pastoralsymphony?
Thayer adds the very fittingcomment, which is
also very significantin regardto the so-called pro-gressiveartists of to-day,that it was not so much
Beethoven's ambition to find new forms for musi-cal
presentationas it was to have his compositionsexcel in those forms which had alreadybeen de-veloped.
Every good opera overture has its pro-gramme,
namely,the text-book of the opera which
is to follow;and Spohr has not hesitated in his
overture to "Faust" to add, besides that,a de-tailed
descriptionof the subjectshe wishes a lis-tener
to imagine while he hears it. In the course
of this book it'will be clearlyexpressedthat the
programme is no wise a reflection on the compo-sitionfor which it is supplied,unless,as in some
cases, the music placesitselfin a false relation to
the programme, so that it seems to revolt againstits own nature and resolves into non-music.
[35]
The Symphony since Beethoven
Berlioz's ''SymphonicFantastique"is said to
representthe feverish dream of a young artistwho,
in despairat having been refused by his beloved,
has poisonedhimself with opium. The dose, too
smah to killhim, producesin his mind firstpleas-antand then later horrible images. The sepa-rate
movements, explainedmore in detail throughthe programme, are named, " "Dreams and Pas-sions,"
''A Ball,"''Scene in the Country,""March
to the Scaffold,""Witches' Sabbath." Later Ber-lioz
added a second part,"Lelio," a melodrama,
incomparablein worth to the symphony. In this
he lets the artistawaken from his sleepand speak,and turningagain to his occupationsfind release
from the griefof love. Imagine how baffled a
publicof that day must have been at the bold at-tempt
to express in music so unheard-of a subject.And yet how grandlyBerlioz has succeeded in do-ing
the apparentlyimpossiblewithout in the least
violatingthe form of the symphony or fallinginto
empty tone-painting.All five movements are per-fect
piecesof music,ingeniousand powerfulin in-vention,
construction,and instrumentation,and
needing no further explanationfor their rightof
existence. When Berlioz became more certain of
the purelymusical perfectionof his work, he said
that the programme might be omitted, for the
work must be comprehensiblewithout it; he asked
only that the names of the separate movements
might remain. A listener,endowed with a little
imaginationand knowing that the third move-ment
was called a "Scene in the Country,"would
easilydiscover at the close,where the cantilena
[56]
The Symphony since Beethoven
movements, would be able to discover the internal
relation between the first three and the last two.
The programme, which explainsthat the whole
work is only intended to be the picturingof an
ecstatic dream, may be freelyused at performances,because the thoroughlymusical character of the
symphony guardsthe listener againstinartistic in-terpretations,
and onlyexcites his fancy,which in
realityis the true objectof the title.^
If we examine more closelythe musical contents
of this work, we will find that one theme runs
through all five movements, " a decided devia-tion
from earlier symphonies. In his dreams,
representedmusicallyin the symphony, the figureof his beloved one incessantlypursues the youngartist in varied forms and surroundings. It as-sumes
the character of a melody called by Berlioz
an idee fixe; and this melody while retainingits
structure, as concerns the mutual relation of in-tervals,
is changed in rhythm and expressiontosuit the situation about to be represented.Theidee 'fixeappears in noble simplicityin the first
movement (score,page 8^). In the second move-ment,
entided "A Ball,"itis representedin waltz-
time,yet without losingits stateliness (score,page
^ Liszt, in his pianofortearrangement of the "Symphonie Fan-
tastique,"has changed the programme, statingthat the first move-ments
represent actual events, and only the last two are dreams. I
do not think this alteration a good one, as it unnecessarilydivides
the work into two parts. The keen appreciatorof this piece will
explainthe character of the last two movements as the climactic de-velopment
of the underlying mood of the entire composition,rather
than something new brought in from outside.^ These references are to the score as publishedby Breitkoph and
Hartel, Leipzig.
[58]
Berlioz
2,S).Adapted to the character of the ^' Scene in
the Country,"it is changed into a pastoralmelody
given out by the wood wind-instruments (score,
page 57). In the fourth movement itappears only
as a fleetingthoughtto the man as he is led to the
scaffold (score,page 84), and finally,in the
''Witches' Sabbath," it becomes a distorted and
grotesque dance-time. The beloved one has
turned into a she-devil,who joinsin the spectral
uproar of witches and other mysticbeings(score,
pages 91 and 92). Berlioz did not, as some crit-ics
will always claim, build this symphony upon
one theme from lack of musical invention,but the
different forms of this theme are woven into all
the movements which otherwise are quite inde-pendent.
The changing and transformingof a theme is
nothing new. We know that the old masters,
above all Beethoven and Schubert,created many
of their works in the form of variations. We
know also that,in our day, Brahms attained a
great perfectionin the mastery of this form. But
the variation of a theme arisingfrom a perceptiblereason " I might say the dramatic-psychologicalvariation " was first used by Berlioz in this sym-phony,
and is absolutelyhis own creation. It is
the same kind of variation which Liszt expandsand perfectsin his symphonic poems, and which
Wagner at last uses as an intense means of ex-pression
in his dramas. These Wagnerian themes,
varied psychologicallyin the service of the drama,have received the name of "leadingmotives"
(Leitmotiven).
[59]
The Symphony since Beethoven
This is the placeto say that the name is justasunsuitable and out of taste as are most of the
names of the so-called leadingmotives themselves.
A motive that should guideus, as it were, throughmusical labyrinths(assuch,Wagner's scores were
at firstconsidered),and which is to keep us from
losingthe thread,should, indeed, never change,but always be clearlyrecognizableto us. But
Wagner's themes change continually,and enter
into the most varied relations with each other,
justas the emotions of the will do within our own
mental life. In their Protean nature they would
be but littleadapted to serve as guidesfor the
ignorantthrough dark pathways. But by their
variations and by their combinations,which are
only possiblein polyphonicmusic, they become
the true images of the dramatis personae, and it
is through this kind of thematic work that Wag-ner'sdrama obtains itsimpressiveforce and clear-ness.
The ''leadingmotives,"with their strange
names and their consequent guide-books(leit-
faden),have brought about more confusion than
instruction concerningWagner's art. We often
find peoplewho think theyhave studied Wagner'swork sufficientlywhen they have discovered the
largestpossiblenumber of leadingmotives. Theytake the same delightin his dramas that children
do in tryingto find the hidden face in a puzzlepicture.Others think all that is needed to com-prehend
a musical compositionis to learn by heart
the themes enumerated in the guide-books.They
spend their time in useless memory-work,and gain
no deeperinsightinto the music. Nevertheless,
[60]
Berlioz
these guide-booksmay have furnished the means
of study for intelhgentreaders who know how to
go farther. Nowadays, however, this leading-mo-tive
system is appliedto all kinds of music, even
to classic symphonies,and the latest productionsof
this kind are the ''programme-books,"which are
distributed in some cities at every orchestral con-cert.
The intellectualharm they do the hstener
is even greater than the material gain they bringto the publisher.Nothing could be said againstthose written by a musician and containingmusic
examples,particularlyin case of a new work, pro-vided
we could induce the publicto read them
before the performance. At home there is hardlyan opportunity.The time before the beginningof the concert and the pauses are filled,as a rule,with conversation. Therefore the readingbeginsafter the performanceof the music has alreadycommenced. Observe now a group of listeners
suppliedwith programme-books. For economy's
sake,naturallytwo or three always look over the
same book. Is it not ludicrous to see how the
heads come togetherand how the fingerspointto
the music example printedin the book when that
particularpassage is being played! Immediatelyafterwards the continuation of the text is read, as
quicklyas possible,so that the entry of the next
music example may not be missed. What value
can there be in such distracted listeningand in-sufficient
reading? ' ' The programme-booksmakeit so easy,"is the reply. This "making it easy"will eventuallybring it about that the conductor
will need onlyto "bring out" as pointedlyas pos-
[6i]
The Symphony since Beethoven
sible the passages quotedin the programme-booksin order to be sure of beingpraisedfor '' clearness
in elaboratingthe performanceof the orchestra;"and the listener will need onlyknow these passages
in order to be able to talk about and criticisethe
work, to have always a quotationfrom it on hand,
and in fact to assume the character of a connoisseur.
Moreover, to spare expense the programme-booksare gotten up hurriedlyand superficially,so that
theyare of no use either to dilettantes or musicians.
I lose no opportunityto pointout the harm that
the reading of these analysesdoes,and to urge
such as believe that they cannot dispensewith
these programme-books,to read them at home in
connection with the study of a good pianoforte
score, but not in the concert duringthe music.
There is stillanother bad habit resultingfrom
the "leadingmotives,"namely,reminiscence hunt-ing,
which has become in our days so ostenta-tiously
obtrusive. Now that itis the custom, since
programme and guide-booksare so prevalent,not
to look at a pieceas a whole,but onlyin fragments,few listeners endeavor,in hearingof a new work,
to gain an impressionof the entire pieceand then
turn to the details,which can onlybe intelligiblein their relation to the whole. The themes or
''leadingmotives,"from which the pieceis said to
be built,are firstsoughtout; then when these are
found, or after they have been neatlyextracted
by some guide-book(likeeyes from the head of a
carp),they are compared with themes already
known, " that is,with those printedas examplesin other programme-books,-" firstof all with those
M
Berlioz
of Wagner, because he is nearest us in point of
time, and is the most powerfulfigureof the re-cent
past; and the younger composers must, there-fore,
become his disciplesbefore they dare be
followers of other masters. Woe to them if there
occurs some slightsimilarityof notes, say C, G,for instance,in some phrasewhere there is also a
C, G, in a Wagner theme! W^oe if an upwardchromatic progressioncan be discovered! The
new theme is then immediatelyfrom Tristan and
Isolde's ''longinglove motive;" two.
consecutive
fourths become at once Beckmesser's "thrilling,
thrashingmotive,"and a dotted rhythm in 6-8 time
is Alberich's "furious forgingmotive;" finally,thewhole w^ork is "woven from sacred W^agner." It
is astonishingwith what speeda new work can be
disposedof in this way before one has had any
opportunity to become acquainted with it. If
nothingor littlecould be found in Wagner's works
to render the victim suspected,then a search is
made among the compositionsof the little" father-
in-law (schwieger-vaterchen)Liszt,or of Berlioz or
of older masters, " yes, even among those of ]\Iey-erbeer,or in operettas or street ditties. It would
be a fine task for some experiencedmusician to
gathertogetherand criticiseall the nonsense which
has been found in these "researches." ^ The rem-
^ Some ingenious person, for instance, claims that the theme to
which, in the closingscene of "Gotterdammerung," Briinnhilde singsthe words, " Fiihl meine Brust auch, wie sie entbrennt," has been
taken from the vulgar ditty,"Du hast ya die schonsten Augen."There is,indeed, a similarityof notes, but how long the ear of the
happy discoverer must have been! On the other hand, a short trem-olo
of the stringson A, E, or D, A, has sufficed to connect Brahms'
"Tragic Overture" with Beethoven's "Ninth Symphony."
63
The Symphony since Beethoven
iniscence hunters forget,in their half childish,half malicious joyat having found some such sim-ilarity
of notes, to examine the character of the
theme itself,the positionit occupies,the manner
of its elaboration;finallythe aspect,the quality,the physiognomy of the entire work. They hear
with their eyes and not with their ears. Theyalso forgetthat the same sequence of tones is not
a reminiscence ; theyforgetthat many items must
enter in,such as time, kind of tones, expression,
arrangement of the whole, and forget,above all,
the recognizableand similar inner cause that calls
for justthis and no other sequence of tones, and
proves the composer'scapabilityfor findingthe
rightexpression,and the necessityfor holdingto
it.^ ^loreover,theyforgeton the other hand, that
the whole mood of a givenpassage may recah an-other
without there being discernible the slightest
similarityin the succession of notes. These mood
reminiscences are noticeablyoverlooked,and yet
they are the only ones worthy of consideration,
because they go much farther towards provinga
composer'swant of originalitythan do these acci-dental
note similarities. Similaritiesappear every-where
and quite frequentlyin the masterpiecesfrom Bach to Wagner; they have never before
had any influence in estimatinga work, and un-til
to-dayit never occurred to any one to want to
use them thus.
^ Incidentallylet it be said that one finds with especialgleerem-iniscences
whenever one is determined to find them, but, on the
other hand, is silent concerningthe obvious harmonies which one
prefersnot to hear.
[64]
The Symphony since Beethoven
fetched,and distorted conglomerationsof sound,with their superficialprofoundnessand superfinebanalities,which we meet to-dayin the song as well
as in the symphony and opera, and which expectfo attain success if onlythey are cleverlyand art-fully
done. Hence the morbid and nervous music-
lovers of our time who need the strongeststimu-lants
to awaken them for a few moments from
their dreamy languor,and who close their glassy
eyes immediately afterwards in slothful slumber.
Indeed, I believe I am quiterightwhen I pointout this fear of not being thoughtoriginalas the
evil spiritwhich robs many of our young com-posers
of their sense and feelingof what ishealthy,
strong, and true. Therefore I do not in the least
fear the reproachof encouragingplagiarismwhenI freelyand openlyexclaim, ''Rather an honest
reminiscence than contrarietyto nature!" How-ever,
it is a comfortingthought that this remi-niscence-hunting
is only a fashionable ailment,which will vanish with time,althoughin the mean-while
it attacks many a wise head and although
many a creative artist of the present day may die
of this disease,for not every one has the strengthto resist itsdoubtless unpleasanteffects; not every
one has the presence of mind to offer his brow
courageouslyto this demon, "Fear of lack of origi-nality;"not everyone has the sound self-confi-dence
to meet this foolish degenerationof sound
judgment with at least a shrug of the shoulder,if it does not seem necessary to him to pause and
say a few strong words on the subject.But to return to our theme. The prizefor be-
[66]
Berlioz
ing the real discoverer of these dramatic-psycho-logicalvariations that have had a magnificentpos-itive
effect,but, as we have seen, also some nega-tive
ones, belongs without question,to Hector
Berlioz. Thus he can in all justificationbe called
the predecessorof Wagner.Besides his pioneerwork, the "Symphonic Fan-
tastique,"Berlioz wrote another symphony, in
four movements, entitled"Harold in Italy."This
symphony hardlyattains the level of his firstone.
Of his other works, apart from his im.portantovertures, "Le Corsaire,""King Lear," "Benve-
nuto Cellini,"and "Carnaval Romain," we have
stillto consider the dramatic symphony, "Romeo
and Juliet,"and the legend,"La Damnation de
Faust," which almost belongsto the domain of
opera. In both these works Berlioz shows him-self
as the ingeniousmusician rather than the artist.
Apparentlyhis inner beingdrew him towards the
opera, but the bold symphony writer and master
of orchestration was not capableof making that
greatstride,which was reserved for Richard Wag-ner," namely,to let the music of his drama grow
out of the spiritof the text without troublinghim-self
about the opera form. Berlioz selected,and
composed for himself,opera texts accordingto the
old models, and then adorned them with charm-ing
and spiritedpiecesof music, which are amongthe very best operaticmusic that we possess, after
the classical masterpieces.He also took hold of
great existingoperas, such as Shakespeare's"Ro-meo
and Juliet,"and Goethe's "Faust," and ar-ranged
them so as to serve his own purpose. This
[67]
The Symphony since Beethoven
purpose was to open up new ways of expressionfor his energeticmusical soul," to create music
and music, the most beautiful,most ingeniousmusic of which he was capable. He did not con-sider
whether the form he chose was artisticallyjustified.As a matter of fact,I cannot justifyitfrom a purelyaesthetic standpointany more than
I can Schumann's ''Paradise und Peri." It is
but a style-lessmixture of different forms; not
quite oratorio,not quite opera, not quite sym-phony
" fragmentsof all three,and nothingper-fect.
In ''Romeo and Juliet"a fugatopicturesthe strife between the two hostile houses, a longrecitative for the orchestra,the meeting,interfer-ence
and threats of the prince. Little choruses
and solos tell of the unhappy lot of the lovers,of
the power of love,of Queen Mab; great orches-tral
piecesdepictthe ball at Capulet'shouse, the
love scene, and again Queen Mab. Thus this
little episode,so unimportant in the drama, is
brought in twice,while the tragicconflict,on the
contrary,is entirelyomitted. A chorus pieceil-lustrates
the lament of the w^omen over Juliet'ssupposed death; an orchestral piece,without a
vocal part, paintsthe awakening and tragicend
of the lovers;finally,a thoroughlyoperaticfinaledescribes the gatheringof the crowd. Father Law-rence's
sermon, and the reconciliation of the rival
houses. Berlioz chooses the situations,which
seem to him best suited for musical composition,without any regard for the organicconnection of
the whole. In "La Damnation de Faust,"he laysthe opening scene in Hungary. Why? During
[68]
Berlioz
a tripthroughAustria he had heard the "Rakoczi
March;" he had scored it brilhantly,and was
lookingfor an opportunityto utilize it in a largerwork. This opportunity he found, curiouslyenough, in ''Faust,"and, in order to find some
justificationfor the ''
March," changed the scene to
Hungary. He confesses this very willinglyin the
prefaceto his work. In order to be able to com-pose
a ''ride to hell,"a real "Pandemonium," he
had Faust perishin that place,quiteat variance
with Goethe's drama, to which he otherwise,forthe most part, adheres,and in which Faust is
saved. But this "ride to hell" is such an ingen-iouspieceof music that we can scarcelyregretthe
violence Berlioz has done to Goethe's poem. The
excrescence " if I may so call it " in "Romeo
and Juliet,"the episodeof Queen Mab, has givenus a wonderfullyfantastic orchestral scherzo,ab-solutely
uniqueof its kind. In both these works,the other symphonic pieces,with the exceptionofone about which I will speak later on, are also
marvels of ingeniousand remarkable music. I
may mention the feast at Capulet'shouse, the
miagnificentand passionatelove scene, and the
dance of the will-o'-the-wispsand of sylphsin "La
Damnation de Faust." On the whole, I consider
this work, apart from the " Symphonic Fantas-
tique,"as his most significantcreation. The
dramatic-psychologicalvariation of a theme is
used in none of his other works, not even in the
"Harold" symphony, with such a brilliant effect
as in this symphony. Berlioz had a great idea,but he himself did not bring it to its greatest
[69]
The Symphony since Beethoven
perfection.That was left for his successors to
do.
His collected works, even if the last-mentioned
ones seem lackingin perfectionof style,have ex-erted
a weightyinfluence upon musical art. He
stands as the real originatorand founder of the
modern school,which is the leadingone to-day,and whose advocates are striving,often with im-petuous
haste,to attain new aims and the highestpossiblesuccess. Berlioz will alwaysrepresent a
milestone in the developmentof music, however
that school may grow. He did not approach,by
any means, that ethical depth,that ideal perfec-tionand purity,which surround Beethoven's name
with such unspeakableglory;but no composer
since Beethoven " except Wagner " has enriched
music with so many new means of expression;has pointed to so many new paths,as did this
great Frenchman whose sheer inexhaustible fan-tasy
onlyappears the more powerfuland rich the
more we try,through lovingstudy,to appreciatehis compositions.
Berlioz,like Schumann, opposed Wagner. In
both cases we see the aversion of one great man to
recognizea greaterone, by no means a rare occur-rence,
but which causes us to remember that
beneath highlytalented natures lie human weak-ness
and error; and the stingat the sightof for-eign
superioritytorments also enlightenedminds.If any artist be troubled by such feelings,let him
look to one sublime example,to a man towering
highabove all other modern composers in this re-spect,
" to the venerable figureof Franz Liszt.
-
[70]
Liszt
How this man, who was himself so great, was al-ways
advancing other artists of a kindred nature.,
and tryingto spread abroad the fame of their
works; how he took young geniusand talent bythe hand, supportingthem with word and deed,
and always without the smallest advantage to
himself; how often he absolutelyneglectedhis
own creations for the sake of others," all this is
a matter of history. And I believe no one, even
those w4io take exceptionto his compositions,will
wish to rob him of the shiningcrown which un-selfishness
and noblest love have placed,for all
times, upon his head. As a man, Liszt was the
king of artists.
As a composer, he surpasses Berlioz,because in
the latter's symphonic w^ork, in spiteof all the
free fancy,the outline of the old form is clearly
visible,and his creations are polishedpieces of
music; while Liszt wanders away from this form,
and thus often stamps his work with the character
of improvisation.He starts directlyfrom the
poeticalsubject,from the programme, and takes it
alone as a guide. Sometimes he goes so far as to
express certain events, or conditions of mind, in
musical phrases,and placesthem side by side as
the programme prescribes.It is true that Ber-lioz
was his predecessorin this. I refer to the
next to the last orchestral piecein "Romeo and
Juliet,"entitled "Romeo at the Tomb of the
Capulets; Invocation,Awakening of Juliet;Frenzyof joy and the firsteffects of the poison; Anguishof death and parting of the lovers." Berlioz
soughthere to picturethe details of the dramatic
The Symphony since Beethoven
action by fragments of melody, by accents, bycombinations of chords and expressivefigura-tions,
and all with such clearness that one is able
to follow the scene almost bar by bar. But this
pieceis generallyomitted at concerts because the
impressionit makes, even with the most perfectrendering,is absolutelyconfusing,sometimes even
" my veneration for Berlioz does not prevent
my saying this " downright ludicrous. The
cause lieshere,that a task is allottedmusic which
it cannot perform. Were we not given throughthe titlean indication of the subjectof the drama,
we certainlywould not know what we were listen-ing
to. We would receive the impressiononly of
a senseless confusion of sounds. But the feelingof senselessness is not removed, even when we do
know from the titlewhat images we are to bear
in mind; indeed,we are astonished to notice how
clear and distinct the bare words of the titleare,
compared with the music, which at other times is
able to impress us much more powerfullythan
even an excellent word-poem. " We experiencesimilar feelingsalso in listeningto the orchestral
recitative at the beginningof ''Romeo and Juliet,'^which is said to represent the arrival and inter-ference
of the prince. Only the tormentingim-pression
in this case is soon over.
Here we have reached the pointwhere the true
mission of music is revealed in all its splendor.Here we see that it is an art which can never con-vey
conceptionsto us because it shows us the
deepestrealityof the world in the most subtle
pictures,and for this reason stands highabove the
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The Symphony since Beethoven
itphysicalor mental,of dramatic or philosophicalcontent, and to wish to express it throughmusic,in the exact order in which it happened," the
event, I repeat,and not, forsooth,its effect upon
us, " is,on the one hand, a foolish and senseless
undertaking,because only words, or in certain
exceptionalcases, a paintedor plasticrepresen-tation,
possess this ability.Then the artistmakes
a mistake in the selection of his medium. He low-ers
a loftyand eternallynoble art to a service far
beneath it. Music, the languageof the spiritof
the universe,is used as a means of expressingoften what is ordinaryand vulgar,and " in case
it is adoptedextensivelyfor work of such style"
givesrise to a perversityof possiblemusical feel-ing
which hinders the appreciationof true mas-terpieces.
I have too firm a faith in the constantly
increasingpower of music, to believe in the last-ing
success, especiallyin this direction,of the
newer endeavors," hence my often criticised
coolness towards a certain kind of ^'modernity."Although the orchestral pieceout of ''Romeo
and Juhet"prepares the way for Liszt's creations,
to a certain extent, stillthe latter has given psworks of incomparablygreater value than this jjpiece,for,in many of his compositions,he sue- ^ceeded in findingan artisticform which presentsthem as finished creations,and these same com-positions
are not contrary to the nature of music,
althougheach follows a definite programme. But
this form, which Liszt invented,is fitted exclu-sively
to the poeticalsubjectof each particularwork, and would be quitesenseless if used with
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Liszt
another programme. Think, for example, of
''Mazeppa," one of Liszt's most famous produc-.tions. A wild movement, soaringalmost to mad-ness,
picturesthe death-ride of the hero; a short
andante his downfall; the followingmarch, in-troduced
by a fanfare of the trumpets and
increasingto highesttriumph,describes his eleva-tion
and coronation. Now think of his sympho-nic
poem "Orpheus," the form of which reallyconsists only of a great crescendo followed by a
great diminuendo. Orpheus strikes the goldenstringsof his lyre,and all nature listens with de-votion
to the wondrous sounds. With majesticstrides the god passes by us, charming the world
with his personalityand his playing. The tones
of his lyregrow weaker. Farther and farther
recedes the heavenlyfigure.At last it vanishes
entirelyfrom sight.^ The dispositionof this pieceof music,commencing with the softest pianissimo
,
growing to the most powerful volume of sound,and then graduallydying away again,is surelyquitejustifiedboth by itselfand in its connection
with the programme; but a similar piece with
the title ''Mazeppa" would be quiteimpossible.Yet I feel certain that,were we to hear " Mazeppa"and "Orpheus" without any titles,we should rec-ognize
in the former,a painfullystormy element
which breaks down and immediately afterwards
rises againvictoriously,and in the latter,a gentleand majesticbeingwho firstapproachesand then
^ The form of the composition "Orpheus" is not unhke the
overture to "Lohengrin."
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The Symphony since Beethoven
recedes,without needing necessarilyto think of
either Mazeppa or Orpheus. Our fancy will be
powerfullystimulated by the title,but not uncom-fortably
fettered. The chief thingwill always be
the musical feelingand not the petty interpreta-tionsof this or that passage, because,and in fact,
especiallyfor this reason, a positivelymusical
power dwells within these pieceswhich I have
mentioned, and because they owe their originto
musical feelingand inspiration,and not merely to
intellectualillustrations.
This kind of programme music I defend as en-ergetically
as I condemn the other," namely,formless extemporizationon supposedunderlying
subjects.When Liszt,for instance,in his sym-phonic
poem, ''Die Ideale,"endeavors to inter-pret
musically certain fragments of Schiller's
poem in due succession,and then tries to weld
these renderingstogetherinto one movement, "
when he even goes so far as to use for headingsthe different parts of the poem, which he wishes
the listener to imagineduring the music (sothat
only those who are providedwith the score can
know justwhat he is to imagine at any particular
moment), " the result is that the music produces
onlya lame effect,because itcannot freelydevelop
accordingto its nature, but is a prioribound to
the successive fragments of the poem, " that is,
to a series of conceptions.Compare this to the
overture of the first version of "Fidelio," the
"first"Leonora" overture (though always falselycalled the second). Its musical value does not
attain to the great one, but it is a true operatic
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Liszt
overture because certain important moments of
the drama are representedin it," Florestan's im-prisonment,
Leonora's courageous endeavor to re-lease
her husband, her searchingand inquiring,her meeting and her fightwith Pizarro,her vic-tory,
a short retrospectof the horrors overcome,
with feehngsof gratitudetowards God, and finallythe exultation of the happilyreunited pair. See
how well Beethoven, with all his dramatic clear-ness,
guardedin this piecethe symphonic char-acter,
and with what musical means he knew how
to depictthe scenes. I would pointout the grandand sudden entrance of C-minor in the placewhere
the usual repeat of the firstpart in C-major is ex-pected;
it is intended to picturethe moment of
highestdanger, Leonora's meeting with Pizarro.
Notice how naturally,and without any violent
effort,the reminiscences from the opera " the
passage where Pizarro falls back before Leonora's
pistol" are introduced. I should like to select
this overture as a model to demonstrate justhow
far a certain programme is compatiblewith music
without injuringthe latter in its very nature.
Mendelssohn's "Hebrides" overture and Schu-mann's
"Manfred" overture were occasioned by
poeticalimages and events. At one time the en-deavor
to express such thingsin music led to a
coincidence of the new-classical and the modern
school; indeed, composers did^not seem at first
aware that there were two schools to be repre-sented,
as we may see from Schumann's relations
with Berhoz and Liszt. It was onlywith the ap-pearance
of the totallyabstract Brahms and the ris-
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The Symphony since Beethoven
ingof Wagner, who soared far above allothers,that
peoplebegan to feel that there were two schools.
When the consciousness of Wagner's power dawned
upon them, the new-classical school,feelingthat its
last hours were come, played the trump-card"
Brahms. The ''schools" were well defined again,and to-daythere are so many that every one feels
called upon to work for one or the other. The
man who belongsto no school naturallyarousessuspicioneverywherewith his productions,and
can scarcelyrelyupon the sane judgment of the
people,which in spiteof all misdirection,finally,though often at a late day,finds out the true.
Here I must warn against a grievous error
which I believe I stilldiscover in many modern
compositions;namely,the confusingof the dra-matic
with the symphonicstyle.Referringonce
more to Wagner's treatise "On the ApplicationofMusic to the Drama," I would add that with a
few exceptionsa characteristic mark of all sym-phonic
themes is their breadth and their specialmelodious character,while the themes of a musi-cal
drama are distinguishedby their pregnancy,and thus often by their significantbrevity.Onnone of Wagner's themes, not even the very sim-plest,
could a symphonic movement be built up;
on the other hand, the firsttheme of Beethoven's
"Eroica," for instance,consistingof twelve bars
(notof four,as many seem to think),the melodies
of Beethoven's slower movements, indeed, the
themes of any true symphony, could not be used
in opera. The dramatist's inventive giftsare ex-cited
to productionby quite other factors than
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Liszt
are the symphony writer's. Persons and events
which are representedbodilyon the stage suggestto him those pregnant and plasticmotives which
reveal the significanceof the events, often like
lightning,and which are much more expressivethan words. But moods of an inward and con-templative
nature, the mental reaction after greatdeeds or events, real or fictitious,which do not re-quire
realizationby the drama, inspirethe symphonywriter to create. His work is like the living"
out of his very beingin music (einSich-Ausleben
seines Wesens in Musik); hence the breadth of
the themes and the true instrumental melody,which is rarelypossiblein the drama. If it is
admissible to designatethe orchestral part of the
musical drama as'' symphonic," " that is,as built
up in ingeniouspolyphony," then a symphony
may in turn be called ''dramatic" if the underly-ingmoods are very passionateand variable. The
whole world is a greatdrama, and music shows us
its innermost being. In this sense, music itselfis
''dramatic,"as we can recognizeto our satisfac-tion
in our great hero Beethoven, to whom we
always turn when we wish reallyto understand
what music is. But the "symphonic" quahty of
a musical drama must be taken in a concrete
sense, and the "dramatic" nature of a symphonymovement in a metaphysicalsense; and compos-ers
should keep this difference constantlyin mind,
so as to avoid the confusingof the two, which
can have no other effect than the giving rise
to pieceswhich will look more like fragmentsof
operas than symphonies,or, on the other hand,
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The Symphony since Beethoven
the airingof symphonicpiecesin operas where theydo not belong. It iswell worth noticingthat Wag-ner
pointsto the necessityof keepingstrictlytothe same key unless there is an imperativereasonfor leavingit. He explainsalso that this necessity
appliesin a higherdegree to the symphony, be-cause
daringmodulations,which in the drama are
absolutelyrequiredby the action would be unin-telligible
in the symphony. There is scarcelyan-other
principlein music which is so sinned against
to-dayas this one, which layin the natures of all
great masters, Wagner included. Most of Bruck-ner's
symphonies,for instance,suffer from inces-sant
and senseless modulations,so that often one
cannot tell why one is called ''in E-flat major"and another ''in C-minor," since only the final
bars of a movement coincide with the key of the
beginning,while all the other parts wander, with-out
rule,through all the remainingkeys. But I
do not think Wagner is rightwhen he rejectsthe varyingof a theme in the symphony," the
psychological-dramaticvariation,to use my ex-pression,
of a theme in a symphony," as a "far-fetched
effect." Is not the sudden entrance of
the minor key,to which I referred in Beethoven's
first"Leonora" overture, a variation of this kind?
If in Liszt's "Mazeppa" the terrible,increasing
speedof the death-ride is expressedthroughgrad-ual,
rhythmical" let us say almost breathless "
shorteningor condensations of the main theme,
from 6-4 time through 4-4 and 3-4 to 2-4; if at
the close of the march this theme is introduced in
a triumphantmanner, " then these variations are
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The Symphony since Beethoven
Other of Liszt's works suffer from the same
defect as does the "Ideale," which also are in-ferior
because less significantin their power of
invention,as, for example,''Hamlet," ''Prome-theus,"
and "Heroide Funebre." There is a cer-tain
extemporaneous quality,which sometimes
approachesraggedness,which is peculiarto most of
Liszt's works. I might say that,justas in Brahms
a meditative element predominates,so a rhapso-dicfeature gains the upper hand with Liszt,and
becomes a disturbingelement in his weaker works,
and, I am sorry to say, even in the "Mountain
Symphony," which is so rich in beautiful details.
Masterpiecesin which the rhapsodicelement as-cends
to its greatest and most impressivepower
are, besides "Orpheus" and "Mazeppa" already
mentioned, "Hungaria,""Festklange,""DieHun-
nenschlacht " (a fantastic piece of uncanny and
elemental power), "Les Preludes," and, above
all,the two great symphonies on "Faust" and
Dante's "Divine Comedy." The "Faust Sym-phony"is not intended to embody musically
Goethe's poem, but gives,as its titlepromises,three
character sketches," "Faust," "Gretchen," and
"Mephistopheles." The third movement shows
us with what art and imaginationLiszt has used
and developedthe dramatic-psychologicalvaria-tion
of a theme (theinventor of which I have
alreadydesignatedas Berlioz).Mephistophelesis" the spiritwho evermore denies ;
" for the princi-pleof his actions is,"for whatever has come into
life deserves to be reduced to nought again."Hence Liszt could not give him a theme of his
Liszt
own, but built up the whole movement from cari-catures
of previousthemes, particularlyfrom those
belongingto "Faust." For this reason ignorantcritics have been even more ready to reproachLiszt than they did Berlioz for lack of invention.
I ask,if our great masters have built up long move-ments
by manifold variations of themes of a few
bars,why should not a composer to-daydo the
same, if a perceptiblepoeticalthoughtis his guid-ingprinciple? Is there no invention in these char-acteristic
variations,and, forsooth,invention of
the same degree that the old masters possessed?And justthe last movement of the "Faust Sym-phony"
best reveals to us Liszt's deep insightintothe true nature of music. When the infernal,diabolical spirithas risen to its most brilliant
power, there appears, as ifsoaringin brightclouds,the main theme of the Gretchen movement in
virginbeauty. By this motive the power of the
demon is shattered,and it sinks back into noth-ingness.
The poet could let Gretchen perish,andeven become a transgressor;the musician, in ac-cordance
with the ideal,subtle nature of his art,
preserved for her the exalted,heavenly form.
Mighty trombone sounds are heard through the
discordant hell-music as it dies away; a male
chorus softlyintones Goethe's sublime words of the
''Chorus Mysticus,""
" All that is transitoryis
onlyillusion;" and in the clearlyrecognizablenotesof the Gretchen theme, continues a tenor voice,"The Ever-Feminine draweth us on
" (Das Ewig-Weibhche zieht uns hinan). One can identifythis tenor voice with Goethe's Doctor Marianus,
The Symphony since Beethoven
and imagineGretchen transfiguredinto the Mater
Gloriosa; one might also recall Faust's words
when he beholds Gretchen 's image in the vanish-ing
clouds : "
" Like a pure soul,stillfairer grows the form,
Dissolves not, but to higherrealms of air ascends,And bears with it my nobler self,my heart,away."
So in great piecesof music goldenthreads,spunfrom sunshine, are woven hghtlyand airily,be-tween
the music and the inspiringpoetry,makingboth more beautiful,but confiningneither.
Still more unified and more powerfulthan the*^ Faust Symphony," is the tone-poem to Dante's
*' Divine Comedy," with itsvivid representationof
the torments of hell and its ^'Purgatory,"^ which
graduallyrises into the higher sphere of pure
sentiment. In both these works Liszt has giventhe highestart of which he was capable. Theycan be compared only with the creations of the
great masters. They mark not only the highest
point in Liszt's work, but also,with Berlioz's
symphonies,are the ripestfruit thus far of artistic
programme music. It is gratifyingto know that
Berlioz's and Liszt's compositionsare constantlygaining ground for themselves, and becoming
more generallyappreciated,in fact, are even
awakening enthusiasm,althougha largenumber of
critical reviews of their works have taken the oc-casion
to grumbleover them or insult them with
^ Acting on the wish of the hyper-CatholicPrincess Wittgenstein,Liszt added a second close, indicatingthe triumphant church. It
is very weak, and I always recommend its omission.
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Liszt
their traditional air of superiority.The pseudo-classicists break their noses, and the ultra-mod-erns
would like to treat both of these great mas-ters
as surmounted obstacles,as steps now passedover, in reachingthe state of perfectionwherethe ''new gods" now sit throned. Idle endeavor!
Time givesits potent judgment,without regardto the pigmieswhich are swellingthemselves up,and struttingabout in their narrow nothingness;and alreadyit is being seen that BerHoz and
Liszt are, with Wagner, the great stars in the new
musical epoch, the heroes of the last half of the
nineteenth century,justas Haydn, Mozart, Bee-thoven,
Weber, and Schubert were the heroes of
the first.
Apart from these two symphonies,each con-sisting
of several movements, Liszt's orchestral
works have, as a rule,but one movement, and are
entitled ''SymphonicPoems." This name is a
very happy one, and seems to me to express in
two words justthe law, perhaps the only law,which a pieceof music must obey if it is to have
a rightto exist. Let it be a poem; that is,let it
springfrom some poeticalsource, from some im-pulse
of the spiritwhich the author may conveyto the public by title and programmiC, or may
withhold; but let it also be "symphonic,"whichis here, speakingin generalterms, synonymouswith "musical." Let it have a definite form,either one taken from the old masters, or a new
one developedfrom its content and correspondingto it. Lack of form in any art is unpardonable,and in music can never be excused by a pro-
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The Symphony since Beethoven
gramme, or by what the composer" imagined/'
Liszt's symphonic works stand for a great first
step along a new path. Any writer who will gofarther on this way must take good care not to
imitate Liszt's weakness, that raggednessof con-ception
which he often displays,but to compose
pieceswhich are more than tone-illustrationsof
programmes.I trust that I have made it sufficientlyclear
what we owe the modern school which has reached
its highestdevelopmentin Berlioz and Liszt,and
what are the dangersthat we have inherited from
them. Besides the positivegain,which we enjoyin the works of these two masters, we have also
learned that there are other arts and forms of
compositionbesides those of the sonata, rondo,and variation which seem so unavoidable. It has
disclosed to the imaginationa rich though dan-gerous
field of action,where preciousfruit may
stillbe reaped. As it is customary in every great
revolutionarymovement, that some shoot beyondthe mark, so must it here also be confessed that
music,while men were strivingto increase itspower
of expression,at times was lowered from itssacred
pedestalto become the slave of words and con-ceptions.
The boundary line over which music
cannot step without becoming unmusical, is very
hard to recognize.We are in need of a largernumber of new and significantworks in order
that itmay be more clearlydrawn. If the younger
generationof our composers comes to know that
music is not a languageof conceptions,ifit recog-nizes
the demand for form in composition,and if
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Strauss
it learns strictlyto separate the symphonic from
the dramatic style,then we need not giveup the
hope of hearing,in the future,symphonies about
which " to use Wagner's words " somethingmaybe said ; providedthat some one comes w^ho knows
all this without beingtold.
At all events,the modern school has been more
stimulatingand fruitful than the new-classical.
It has become the yeast in the bread of the Philis-tines,
and its fermentation is more and more ap-parentin Germany and abroad. Thus I believe
that some remarkable modern symphonies,in the
old form, and, therefore,belongingto the new-
classical school,would not have been composedexactlyas they were, if Berlioz and Liszt had not
lived. I refer among others to the symphonies of
Bindingand Borodin, which I have alreadymen-tioned.
In our days we see also desertions from
the old school to the new. Dvorak, no longera
young man, who can be considered as a pupilof
Brahms, and who has attained great success
with his symphonies,has suddenlyturned to pro-gramme
music,and iscomposingsymphonic poems." Some years ago we witnessed a similar conver-sion
in the case of Richard Strauss,who was then
a very young man. As a pupilof Hans von Bil-low,
after Billow had deserted Wagner, he swore
by Brahms, and wrote an excellent symphony of
which the model is evident. Later he went over
to the modern school,began a series of symphonicpoems by no means finished yet,and now in the
publicopinionstands as the leader of the most ex-tremely
progressiveschool. I consider ''Tod und
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The Symphony since Beethoven
Verklarung,"as one of the most worthyof these
symphonic poems, more so than ''Don Juan,"which is perhaps better known and hked. The
former is a pieceof spent passion,powerfulbothin invention and construction,and very sincere
and genuine in feeling,except the close,which
seems to m^e more pompous than glorious.A
pieceof equal value is the scherzo for orchestra,^'Till EulenspiegelslustigeStreiche,"which is
most brilliant both thematicallyand instrument-
ally,indeed trulywitty,if I may applythis word
to music. In ''Also sprachZarathustra,"Straussfalls into the same error which Liszt made before
him with the "Ideale." Liszt intended to pic-turea succession of moments during which man
rose from his every-daylife to a highersphere;and so in Strauss' s piece a series of world con-ceptions
passes before us, each of which attemptsto solve the great secret of life,representedby the
succession of notes, C, G, C. None of them suc-ceeds,
and at the end the C, G, C, stand there
as obstinatelyas in the beginning,and doubt "
the "father of truth,"accordingto Nietzsche,the
chord C, E, F-sharp,accordingto Strauss " may
go on forever assailingit. No doubt different
moods, such as religiousfeeling,passion,pleasure,and superhuman dionysiacserenity" remember
the last movement in Beethoven's A-major sym-phony" may be rendered musically;even grant-ing
that a fugue may symbolizescience,which is
barren in the solution of the final and highest
questionsof life,yet by the welding togetherofsuch widelydifferentiated moods into one move-
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The Symphony since Beethoven
tactfullyone might say (when one recalls some
of the Eulenspiegelanecdotes),avoided givingthe programme. In hearingthis piece,even if it
were performedwithout its title,we would get a
certain impressionof beingseized or preyedupon,even if we did not think of Eulenspiegel.In his
later works this is the exception.No one, for
instance,hearingthe great violin solo in ^'Hel-
denleben,"would think of a rebellious woman who
was graduallywon by the love of the hero,or,
listeningto the adventurous ''wind kakophonions"
of the second portion,would think of "the hero's
adversary,"if he did not know that this was what
he was to imagine. The fact that the author
himself considers it necessary previouslyto in-terest
the publicis evidence that the new way
which he has pretendedto break throughis only
seemingly passable,for those extensive elucida-tions
are nothing more than an open confession
that,in spiteof the polyphonicart and our aston-ishment
over the instrumentation,these creations
are senseless without intellectual explanation.On
the other hand, a real programme is not pre-sented
with these pieces,and thus the publicis to
a certain extent brought by an ambiguous way
to their comprehension,in that it must first be
instructed as to what it should think,and then
must consider it all as a direct language. The
character of incompletenesswith which, on ac-count
of this proceeding,these extravagant com-positions
seem afflicted,and w^hich presents itself
in allthe more strikinga manner since their origi-nalityin regard to spirituallyrich harmonies,
[90]
Strauss
but in no wise in regardto originalmelodies and
themes, can be exhorted,prevents them from hav-ing
anythingto do with works of genius. The
trulyoriginalstands out free and independent,and strides boldlythrough the world. It needs
no preliminarystudies,and " no crutches.
Many aesthetic questionshave been raised over
Strauss' s compositions,among others,if a flock of
sheep (Don Quixote) could be representedinmusic. In my opinion,in this and similar cases,
it is a questionof how it is done. A mere imita-tion
of the sounds of nature, as in Strauss's piece,can call up a recognitionof the story;as, for ex-ample,
a pictureof a rubbish heap paintedin
masterly,realistic style,shows the wonderful
techniqueof the painter. In both cases we need
onlythe odors to make the illusion complete. A
trulyartisticand musical conceptionof a bleatingflock of sheep could be scarcelyless faithful than
is Strauss's,but it would have to be much more
full of sentiment,of humor, and music. May not
one suspect in many placesin Strauss's pieces,where he,apparentlyin accordance with the prin-ciple,
^'Nothingis true; everythingispermissible,"heaps up the ugly on top of the ugly,that the
composer, " so accustomed from youth up to
praiseand recognition (for one cannot helpbeing astonished at this man) that he celebrated
himself in his latest tone-poem; ''the hero strug-glingwith his adversary,"" that this composer
now riding on the high wave of prosperity,wished to see how much he could offer the publicwith serious mien, before the joke was disco v-
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The Symphony since Beethoven
ered? In truth,did he not try some ''Eulenspie-gelei" in his compositions,just as, for example,Bulow, according to my conviction,here and
there attemptedin directingconcerts ? Thus it is
not the harmonic and instrumental abnormities
of the first rank, but rather the deeper observa-tions,
which I have givenabove, that make it im-possible
for me to agree with Strauss in his works
during the last few years. Nor can his brilliant,
even phenomenal success lead me to agreeing,especiallyas the significanceof contemporary suc-cess
is but of ephemeralworth to him who directs
his glanceback away from the figuresof our dayover the historyof hundreds and thousands of
years.Here I will speak of a curious feelingwhich I
have often experienced,but which I have not
found shared by others. If I hear a piece that
reveals to me the weakness of the modern school,then there comes over me after a short time of
attentive listening,in spiteof the great external
difference,exactlythe same sensations that a weak
work of Brahms awakens in me; the same insipid,
empty, and heavy feelingof torment. Does this
similarityof effect lie in the fact that Brahms's
music appears to me as the conceptionof music,
as opposed to its essence, while in the programme
piecesconceptions" as opposed to the essence
of things" are intended to be expressed? Mayit be that the erroneous and artificialproductsofboth schools are closelyrelated after all,as is
undoubtedly the case with their great produc-tions?Perhaps, from a very high pointof view,
^ Mahler
there are not reallytwo schools,but only one.
Time alone can tell.
As I spoke before of an older and a younger
composer, I may mention two other artists in the
same purelyexternal connection. Standingunder
the direct influence of Liszt,Friederich Smetana,
a Bohemian, wrote a series of six symphonic
poems. He gave them the collective title,''Mein
Vaterland," as he had found his poeticalimpulsein Bohemian folk-lore. I mention as especiallyvaluable "Vltava," and then "Vysehrad" and
^'Aus Bohmens Hain und Flur." The firstmen-tioned
is an especiallybeautiful example of how
far a prescribedprogramme is compatiblewithmusic. An interestingfigureof our day,but far
too littleesteemed as a composer, is Gustav Mahler.
His works are of colossal dimension,and requirean unusuallylargenumber of executants, which
makes more difficulttheir performanceand repu-tation.
But if we overlook these considerations,
which, after all,are secondary,and turn to the
composer himself, we find in him deep, strong
feelingwhich has its own mode of expression,andwhich says what it has to say quiteunconcerned
about the possibilitiesof performanceand success.
Mahler's most, strikingcharacteristic is the re-markable
breadth of his themes, as well as their
thoroughlymusical nature. In many pointshe is
like his teacher,Bruckner, onlyhe understands
better how to work with his themes and how to
construct his movements. There may be bizarre
passages, there may be needles^ difficultiesin his
works; we may notice a certain prolixity,and,
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The Symphony since Beethoven
perhaps, a want of severe self-criticismin the
selection of his themes; but everythingthat
Mahler writes bears the stamp of a rich imagina-tionand of a passionateand a vivid,almost fanatic
enthusiasm,which always has awakened my sym-pathy.
I have now spoken of the modern composers
also,chieflyof Strauss and IMahler,who, standingstillin the middle of their creative work, lead our
thoughts on from the present to the future.
Whether there will come an artist,who in his
own way can carry on further the work of Berlioz,
Liszt,and Wagner, and worthilybring to a close
the ranks of our greatgeniuses,no one to-daycan
tell.
But we need not hinder our imaginationsfrom
picturinghim as he would appear in our day. I
think oi him first as independentof all parties,and not meddling with them because he is above
them. I think oi him, not narrow-mindedlyGer-man
nor yet cosmopolitanand shallow,but having
a strong,purelyhuman feeling,because music is a
universal art. I picturehim inspiredwith a glow-ingenthusiasm for what the great minds of all
times and of all nations have produced,and hav-ing
an invincible aversion to mediocrity,with which
he comes in contact onlythroughhis own kindness.
I think of him as free from en\7 because conscious
of and trustingin his own worth, far above any
mean ways of advertisinghis own works; pro-foundly
sincere,and, where needful;even indiffer-ent
" hence not a great favorite in many places.I imagine him not anxiouslyavoidingsocial in-
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Conclusion
tercourse, but with a tendencytowards seclusion
" not hatingmen in exaggeratedworld-grief,but
despisingtheir meanness and narrow-mindedness,and so choosingonly specialpersons for his dailyintercourse. I think of him as not indifferent to
success or failure,but refusingto allow either to
alter his course by a hair's breadth; very indif-ferent
to so-called publicopinion,and politicallya republicanin Beethoven's sense. I see him
wandering,as it were, in an Alpineregionwherethe clear white mountain-topsgreet us kindly,but
yet are awe-inspiring,with his gaze constantlyfixed on the highestpeak,toward which he is ah
ways advancing. Althoughhe feels himself akin
onlyto the greatestgeniuses,stillhe knows he is
only one link in the chain and that other greatmen will succeed him. So he belongs,indeed,toa school,but to one which soars over the heads
of humanity and vanishes.
If we come down to realityafter this flightof
our imagination,we recognizethat we are livingin an interregnum,in a period of transition.
Every\vherewe notice a pulsating,restless activ-ity,
an uncertain groping after dim objects,a
hankering for success and celebrityat all costs
and by any means. ^'Progress,""Neo-German-
ism," "hitherto unheard-of originality,""precur-sor,""epigone,""eclectic,""founder of a new
school," "superseded standpoint,"" these are
many of the catchwords which strike our confused
ear. Now we hear of a new tone-poem in com-parison
with which the works of Wagner, Liszt,and
Berlioz are but the productionsof pigmies;there
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The Symphony since Beethoven
the true popularvein is said to have been rediscov-ered.
As in a Fata Morgana, the new pass before
us, fade,and die away. An almost frivolous ad-miration
of the willful,the irregular,the ugly,hasmanifested itself in many places. Where for-merly
every Philistine crossed himself before every
"tritonus,"and eagerlysearched for every ''in-harmonic
relation,"nowadays theysanction everyharmonic absurdity,callingit a ''bold act," if
onlyit occurs absolutelywithout reason; and he
who has accomplishedthe most along that line is
styleda "reformer!" No doubt in the midst of
all this confusion,the great, the trulynew and
original,is silentlypreparing,but far away from
the art market. Its appearance will be a ques-tionof personalityand not of education. The
artist cannot live far from the activityof the world.
He must get his ideas,his inspirations,and the
plumb-linefor his work from life. Will our pres-ent
most intense,nervous, and strenuous exist-ence
let some soul developwithin,in the midst
of all the press and drive,that degreeof intuitive-
ness and poisefrom which alone great works of
art,stamped neither more nor less with the fad of
the day, can come ? Will " without reaction "
that loftiness without pathos,that charm without
coquetry, that strengthand sweetness of spirit,by which our great masters were characterized,return to-dayupon the basis of the modern phil-osophy
of life? In this age of invention and me-chanics
is an art possiblethat,standingas far
above all time as everythingreallygreat does,isstillthe child of its time ?
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The Symphony since Beethoven
every one of you must be "superhuman" if the
misunderstood teachingsof Zarathustra ring in
your ears and set your brain in feverish agita-tion.To onlya few is itpermittedto wander on
the highestsummits of humanity,and this ''su-perhuman"
state cannot be constructed,learned,or acquired.That endowment comes only as a
transcendent giftfrom the regionsabove. "From
which?" you eagerlyask. Well " from that re-gion
which only he would deny who has never
feltits breath wafted across to him !" Be it a httle
song or a great symphony that you compose, it
will onlybe a masterpieceif it deserves the same
motto that the great Beethoven wrote on the score
of his"Missa Solemnis:"
"Von Herzen " moge es zu Herzen gehen."
Felix Weingartner.
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