<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></SPAN>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2>
<h3>MENDELSSOHN AND SCHUMANN.</h3>
<hr style="width: 15%;" />
<h3>I.</h3>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/capo.png" width-obs="100" height-obs="100" alt="O" title="O" class="floatl" />NE of the most fortunate personalities among modern composers was
Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy (1809-1847), who was born in Berlin, the
grandson of Moses Mendelssohn, the famous Jewish philosopher. The
father of Felix was a banker, and his mother a woman of a very sweet
and amiable disposition. The children of Abraham Mendelssohn were
baptized in the Christian faith in order to escape in some degree the
prejudice against the Jewish race. Felix, having a strong inclination
to music, at an early age made great progress in it. His first concert
appearance was made at the age of ten, in which he played the piano
part in a trio by Woelfl, and was very much applauded. As early as his
twelfth year he began systematically to compose, and being naturally
of methodical habits, which were still further encouraged by his
father and mother, he kept an accurate record of his works, which at
the last filled forty-four folio volumes, the most of the pieces being
dated, and the place given where they were written. In the year 1820
he composed between fifty and sixty movements, of almost every sort,
songs, part songs, pieces for organ, piano, strings and orchestra, as
well as a cantata,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</SPAN></span> and a little comedy for voices and a piano. In the
summer of 1820, the whole family made a tour of Switzerland, and a
very large number of pieces were composed at this time. In this same
year he made a more important concert appearance with Aloys Schmitt,
in which he played with Schmitt a duet for two pianos. This continued
exercise in composition was not entirely of an abstract nature, for
the Mendelssohn family were accustomed to have reunions on Sunday
evenings, when these pieces were played. For occasions like this he
wrote several small operas, and his talent was encouraged in every way
by his parents, and by his very judicious teacher, the celebrated
Zelter. When he was scarcely more than twelve years old, Zelter had
him play before Goethe, and a trio of the boy's was also played, after
which he was sent to play in the garden while his seniors discussed
his prospects. Thus the boy grew up under the most favorable
circumstances possible, his father being a wise and careful man, who,
although not a musician, thoroughly sympathized with the artistic aims
of his son; and his mother also encouraged him to more serious
efforts. Even at this early age he was a prolific composer of
orchestral music, the year 1824 being that of the composition of the
symphony in C minor, now known as No. 1, but in Mendelssohn's
catalogue marked the thirteenth of his compositions. In this year
Moscheles passed through Berlin on his way to London, and made the
acquaintance of Mendelssohn. At the Sunday morning music in the
Mendelssohn house, Moscheles recalls the performance of Felix's C
minor quartette, D major symphony, a concerto by Bach, played by
Fanny, and a duet for two pianos. In the same year Spohr came to
Berlin, and a little later Hiller, both of whom speak of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</SPAN></span>
Mendelssohn's playing as something very remarkable. His celebrated
octette for strings, Opus 20, was composed in 1825. This was the first
of his works which has retained its popularity. The year following he
composed the overture to "The Midsummer Night's Dream," one of the
most remarkable pieces of the early romantic school. In this the
fairy-like music of Titania and her elves is charmingly contrasted
with the folk songs and the absurd bray of the transformed Bottom. He
had already written an opera "<i>Camacho</i>," which had been submitted to
Spontini, the musical director of Berlin, but it was never performed.
He entered at the University and attended the lectures of Hegel and
Carl Ritter, the geographer, but for mathematics he had no talent. Two
folio volumes of notes of the lectures of Hegel and Ritter are
preserved from the years 1827 and 1828. His overture to "The Calm Sea
and Prosperous Voyage" was written in 1828. In the year following he
started on a long journey of three years, carefully planned by his
father, in which all the countries of Europe were to have been visited
successively, and observations made on civilization and society. His
first appearance before an English audience was at a Philharmonic
concert, May 25, 1828, when he conducted his symphony in C minor and
improvised on the piano. He was received with the utmost applause.
Five days later he played the <i>Concertstück</i> of Von Weber, and, which
was a great innovation at that time, with no music before him. His
letters from London are very charming indeed. At a concert later, his
overture to "The Midsummer Night's Dream" was performed with great
success; this was the beginning of his English popularity, lasting all
the rest of his life.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The first of his "Songs without Words" was published in 1830, having
been originally composed for his sister Fanny. In this simple act he
opened a new chapter of the literature for the piano. The form of the
song without words had already been given in Field's nocturnes, the
first of which were published in 1816; but Mendelssohn, by giving it
the title, "<i>Song</i>, without Words," put the hearer in a different
relation to the composition—that of seeking to find in the work a
poetic suggestion in addition to pleasing melody and finely modulated
harmony. This, also, is extremely characteristic of the romantic
epoch, in which music has its origin in poetry. He had already written
a number of those charming <i>capriccios</i>, in which the piano is treated
with light staccato changing chords, such as Von Weber had suggested
nearly twenty years earlier in his "<i>Moment Capriccio</i>," but which no
writer brought to such perfection as Mendelssohn. These two styles of
pianoforte writing—the fairy-like <i>scherzo</i>, and the "Song without
Words," are Mendelssohn's specialties, in which no other writer can be
compared with him. He also wrote a number of concertos for piano and
orchestra, and one for violin, in which these two elements are very
strong features. Without having the effective passage work of
Thalberg, Liszt or Chopin, or the bold originality of Schumann,
Mendelssohn was an extremely original and pleasing pianoforte writer.
During his life, especially in the later part of it, he was somewhat
over-estimated; but at the present time, through the emergence of
Schumann from the obscurity into which Mendelssohn's reputation cast
him, the works of Mendelssohn are often underestimated. He opened a
new chapter in tone-poetry, popularizing pianoforte sentiment.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The famous G minor concerto for the piano was first produced in Munich
in 1831. In the same year he went to Paris, where many of his works
were performed and others were composed. The next year he was in
London again, when the Hebrides overture was produced and the first
book of "Songs without Words" was published. He also played the organ
at several of the churches, and excited general admiration by his
vigorous style. He is said to have been the first to play a Bach pedal
fugue in England, certainly the first to play any of the important
ones. In 1833 he was settled at Düsseldorf, as musical director of the
church and two associations. There he immediately instituted a reform
in the music of the church, and in the character of the selections for
concert. In the church there were masses by Beethoven and Cherubini,
motettes by Palestrina, and cantatas by Bach. The next year his
oratorio of "St. Paul" was begun. In 1837 he was married to a very
charming lady—Miss Cecilia Jeanrenaud, daughter of a clergyman of the
Reformed Church at Frankfort. Very soon after the wedding he was in
London and Birmingham, where he conducted "St. Paul" and commenced to
prepare the libretto for his oratorio of "Elijah." Among the Bach
fugues which he played in London on the organ at this time were the D
major, the G minor, the E major, the C minor and the short E minor.
His pedal playing was very highly esteemed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center"><SPAN name="FIG_85">
<ANTIMG src="images/fig85.png" width-obs="242" height-obs="300" alt="Fig. 85" title="Fig. 85" /></SPAN></p>
<p style="text-align: center"><b>Fig. 85.</b></p>
<p style="text-align: center"><b>MORITZ HAUPTMANN.</b></p>
<p> </p>
<p>In 1835 he commenced to conduct the <i>Gewandhaus</i> concerts at Leipsic,
and the celebrated conservatory there was founded in 1843. The first
professors were Hauptmann, David, Schumann, Pohlenz and C.F. Becker.
Ferdinand David (1810-1873) was the greatest master of the violin
during the third quarter of the century.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</SPAN></span> Moritz Hauptmann
(1792-1868), originally a violinist, was one of the most original
theorists of this century. His greatest work, "Harmony and Meter," was
published in 1853. Soon afterward Moscheles became associated with
them. The city of Leipsic remained his home during the remainder of
his life. The founding of the conservatory may have been hastened by
certain plans which Mendelssohn had endeavored three years before to
get adopted in Berlin, where there was a project for founding a royal
music school upon a different basis from any at that time existing.
From some change in the ministry, or temporary political disturbance,
the plan fell through, but in Leipsic it was carried out. This famous
school from that time forward, for nearly<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[Pg 461]</SPAN></span> fifty years, exercised an
influence greater than that of any other music school in the world.
Among its graduates are a very large number of the most successful
teachers and celebrated professional musicians. They had been drawn to
Leipsic by the reputation given the conservatory by the possession of
such masters as Mendelssohn, Schumann, Hauptmann, Moscheles, Plaidy,
Dr. Paul, Becker, Brendel, Reinecke and others. After Mendelssohn's
death, indeed, the tradition of his ideas hampered the efficiency of
the school to some extent, but very thorough work has always been done
there. During his four years' connection with the conservatory
Mendelssohn conducted the <i>Gewandhaus</i> concerts and superintended the
entire educational operations of the school. In addition to this he
conducted a succession of important festivals in all parts of Europe,
producing new works of his own, and the greatest works of the masters
before him. He made a great reputation as concert pianist, playing his
own concertos and those of Beethoven, as well as the <i>Concertstück</i> of
Von Weber. Everywhere he improvised upon the organ or the piano, and
through all the admiration which he received remained the same simple,
unaffected, sincere artist that he was when a boy. His home life was
very happy. In Ferdinand Hiller's reminiscences many charming pictures
of it are given.</p>
<p>The greatest of Mendelssohn's works was "Elijah," which was produced
at Birmingham, August 26, 1846. Staudigl, the famous baritone of
Vienna, was Elijah. The work went extremely well at the first
performance—better, Mendelssohn says, than any former work of his.
The continual anxiety of producing the new work, the travel and the
many responsibilities belong<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[Pg 462]</SPAN></span>ing to his position finally undermined
his health, and at length, November 4, 1847, he died at Leipsic. It is
doubtful whether any musician ever left a warmer or a more
distinguished circle of friends than Mendelssohn. In all parts of the
musical world his death was regarded as a calamity.</p>
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center"><SPAN name="FIG_86">
<ANTIMG src="images/fig86.png" width-obs="222" height-obs="292" alt="Fig. 86" title="Fig. 86" /></SPAN></p>
<p style="text-align: center"><b>Fig. 86.</b></p>
<p style="text-align: center"><b>FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.</b></p>
<p> </p>
<p>In "Elijah" and in the first part of "St. Paul" Mendelssohn made an
addition to the world's stock of oratorios scarcely second to any
other works, excepting Händel's "Messiah." "Elijah," in particular,
had the advantage of an extremely dramatic and picturesque<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[Pg 463]</SPAN></span> story, and
a text well selected from the Scriptures. There are many moments in
this work of rare and exquisite beauty. The choruses when
contrapuntally developed, have themes somewhat too short, whereby the
effect of the words is lost in the intermingling of voices coming in
at later moments, but there are other parts of the work which are
extremely beautiful. There is a lovely chorus, "He Watching over
Israel," in which the gentle Mendelssohnian melody is accompanied by
soft triplets in the strings, whereby a most delightfully light and
<i>spirituelle</i> effect is produced. Near the end of the work there is a
very graphic recitative to the words, "And One Cherub Cried to
Another"; then a soprano voice with grand phrase sings "Holy, Holy Is
God, the Lord," three other soprano voices joining in the last words.
These are very lightly accompanied. Immediately thereupon, the entire
chorus, orchestra and organ, with the utmost power, come in with the
same melody, "Holy, Holy Is God, the Lord." This antiphon between the
full chorus and the female quartette continues in varying style
throughout the chorus, and the result is thrilling in the extreme.
Extremely dramatic, also, is the great chorus "Thanks Be to God, for
He Laveth the Thirsty Land." There are many solo numbers in the work,
all of them remarkable for the care with which the text is treated,
and the clearness with which the musical utterance expresses the
words. The famous tenor song, "If with All Your Hearts Ye Truly Seek
Him," the alto song, "Oh Rest in the Lord," the angel trio, "Lift
Thine Eyes," the great soprano song, "Hear Ye Israel," and the bass
aria, "It Is Enough," and especially the prayer of Elijah, "Lord God
of Abraham, Isaac and Israel," are scarcely surpassed in the entire
range of oratorio music. There is<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[Pg 464]</SPAN></span> very remarkable instrumentation,
also in the scenes on Mt. Carmel, and especially at the series of
choruses where "God, the Lord, Passed By."</p>
<p>During his life, Mendelssohn was very highly esteemed as a composer of
orchestral music, symphonies and overtures. While his works in this
department contain many beauties, and are carried out with elegant
clearness of form, and with that refinement and taste which
characterized everything which Mendelssohn did, they have not
maintained their reputation at the high level where it formerly stood.
It was Mendelssohn's fortune to be one of the masters instrumental in
introducing the romantic school; but upon principle and education he
was classical in his taste and instincts, and while his works had a
very important use in cultivating an appetite for novelty, whereby the
other masters of the romantic school profited later, he went so short
a distance in the new path that the march of events has since left him
somewhat behind.</p>
<h3>II.</h3>
<p>If it were asked to name the two masters most representative of the
nineteenth century, one could scarcely go amiss, the names of Robert
Schumann and Richard Wagner immediately occurring. Robert Schumann
(1810-1856), the son of a very intelligent book seller, was born at
Zwickau, in Saxony, and was intended for the law. He received lessons
in music at an early age, and his talent was unmistakable. When he was
about eleven he accompanied a performance of Frederick Schneider's
"<i>Weltgericht</i>." At home, with the aid of some musical companions he
got up performances of musical compositions, and had a small
orchestra. He entered at the Leipsic University as a student of law,
but<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[Pg 465]</SPAN></span> devoted the most of his time to playing the piano, and to reading
Jean Paul, for whom he had a great fondness. He immediately attached
himself to the musical circles, entering himself as a pupil with
Wieck, the father of his future wife. A year later he transferred his
attendance to the University of Heidelberg, attracted thither by the
lectures of the famous teacher Thibaut, the same whose work upon the
"Purity of Musical Art," had only recently been published. Here, as in
Leipsic, his principal occupation was practicing upon the piano, which
he did to the extent of six or seven hours a day. Notwithstanding his
fondness for music, his mother was violently opposed to his entering
the musical profession, and as his father was now dead, her wishes
naturally had much weight. He had already commenced to write songs,
quite a number of which belong to the year 1830, when he was living in
Heidelberg.</p>
<p>He made a tour to the north of Italy, and heard the Italian musician
Paganini, which fired him with so much ardor, that he immediately set
himself to transcribe his Caprices for the piano, and to accomplish
upon this instrument similar effects to those which Paganini produced
upon the violin. At length, after much difficulty with his guardian
and his mother, it was agreed that he might fit himself for a
musician, so in 1830 he was back again in Leipsic studying diligently
with Master Wieck. In his ardor for great results in a short time, he
undertook some kind of mechanical discipline for the fourth finger of
his right hand, the effect of which was that the tendons became
overstrained, the finger crippled, and for a long time he was utterly
unable to use it in piano playing. In composition he now entered upon
regular instruction with Heinrich Dorn, at that time conductor of the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[Pg 466]</SPAN></span>
opera in Leipsic. Dorn recognized the greatness of Schumann's genius,
and devoted himself with much interest to his improvement. In 1832 a
symphony of his was produced in Zwickau, but apparently with little
success, for the work was never heard of afterward. At this same
concert Wieck's daughter, Clara, who was then thirteen years of age,
appeared as a pianist, and Zwickau, Schumann says, "was fired with
enthusiasm for the first time in its life." Already he was very much
interested in the promising girl, and expresses himself concerning her
with much ardor. He seems to have been singularly slow in composition.
At this time, 1833, he had written the first and third movements of
the G minor sonata, had commenced the F minor sonata and completed the
"Toccata," which had been begun four years before. He also arranged
the second set of Paganini's caprices, Opus 10. He found a faithful
friend in Frau Voigt, a pianist of sense and ability. Schumann usually
passed his evenings in a restaurant in company with his friends, after
the German fashion, but while the others talked he usually remained
silent. Frau Voigt told W. Taubert that one lovely summer evening
after making music with Schumann, they both felt inclined to go upon
the water. They sat side by side in the boat for an hour in silence.
At parting Schumann pressed her hand and said, "Good day, we have
perfectly understood one another."</p>
<p>The immediate result of the musical associations of Schumann, in
Leipsic, was the project for a musical journal, devoted to progress
and sincerity. In opera Rossini was then the ruling force. At the
piano Herz and Hünten; and musical journalism was represented by
<i>Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung</i>, published by Breitkopf & Härtel,
which praised almost everything, upon<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[Pg 467]</SPAN></span> general principles. In 1834,
the first number of the <i>Neue Zeitschrift für Musik</i> saw the light.
The editors were Robert Schumann, Friedrich Wieck, Ludwig Schunke and
Julius Knorr. Schumann was the ruling power, and he proceeded to
develop his literary faculty in a variety of forms. He writes under
many pseudonyms, and has much to say about the "David league against
the Philistines," a society existing in his imagination only. One of
the famous early articles in this paper was that upon Chopin's
variation "<i>La ci Darem</i>," greeting the work of the talented young
Pole as a production of rare genius. Schumann himself thought so well
of this article that he placed it at the beginning of his collected
writings. It will be impossible within available limits to define the
influence of this journal. During the ten years when Schumann was
editor, many of the most important productions of the modern school
first saw the light, and all come in for discussion, from a point of
view at the same time sympathetic and intelligent.</p>
<p>As an example of the musical life at Leipsic in this time, Moscheles
mentions an evening in 1835, when Mendelssohn conducted his first
concert in the <i>Gewandhaus</i>; the day before this there had been a
musical gathering at Wieck's, at which both Mendelssohn and Schumann
were present, perhaps the first time that these two great geniuses
were brought together. The next day Mendelssohn, Schumann, Moscheles
and Banck dined together, and the next day there was music at Wieck's
house—Moscheles, Clara Wieck and L. Rakemann from Bremen, playing
Bach's D minor concerto for three pianos, Mendelssohn putting in the
orchestral accompaniments on the fourth piano. With Mendelssohn he
contracted quite an intimacy. In 1836 he found<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[Pg 468]</SPAN></span> himself very much
devoted to Clara Wieck, and in order to secure a more favorable
opening for his career, resolved to transfer himself and the paper to
Vienna, but after a year he returned again to Leipsic, and then the
course of true love became more difficult, for Papa Wieck was
resolutely opposed to the match; but after some months his consent was
given, and they were married in 1840. During this year he had an
extraordinary activity as a song writer. The "Woman's Love and Life,"
the "Poet's Love," and various other cycles of song, were all produced
under the stress of his happy prospects with Clara. It is not easy to
ascertain the order of his compositions, since, as we have already
seen, the sonatas and some of the other works appearing late in the
list of opus numbers were composed very early.</p>
<p>The romantic tendency is the most marked of all of Schumann's
characteristics as a composer. He is above all others the composer of
moods. His long pieces are invariably aggregates of shorter ones. The
typical forms of Schumann's thought are two, and two only, the Song
and the Fantasia. He made diligent efforts to master counterpoint and
fugue, and manly attempts in these provinces can be found among his
writings; but counterpoint and fugue remained to him a foreign
language. The smoothness of Mendelssohn, the readiness of Bach, of
Beethoven, or even Mozart, are impossible to him. On the other hand,
when he follows his own inclination, he creates forms that are clear,
concise and original. One scarcely knows which to admire more—the
graphic correspondence of the music with the suggestive title placed
at the head, or the original style of the music itself, which is
entirely unlike anything by any former<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[Pg 469]</SPAN></span> composer. His Opus 2 is a set
called <i>Papillons</i>, "Butterflies," or "Scenes at a Ball," consisting
of twelve short movements in different style, without explanatory
titles. Some are fantastic, others are sentimental, all original and
striking. The eleventh number of this is a short but magnificent
polonaise in D major, an extremely spirited and beautiful movement
which has since been very popular. The transcriptions of the Paganini
caprices were undertaken as studies for the composer himself in the
direction of unexplored pianoforte effects, but Schumann had also the
intention of providing in music new discipline for piano students. In
my opinion the technical value of these works has not yet been
realized, and it is quite possible that a later generation may esteem
them more highly than the present. However this may be, the practice
of writing gave Schumann a greater freedom, the effect of which is
seen upon the next set of pieces, the six <i>Intermezzi</i>. These,
however, are vague and mystical, rather than clear. With the "David's
League Dances" the Schumann nature appears more plainly. The style is
freer, and these new combinations are very charming, although they
must undoubtedly have been fatal stumbling blocks to the fingers of a
pianist trained in Dussek and Hünten. "The Carnival," a series of
fanciful scenes, belongs to an earlier period, having been composed in
1834 and 1835. The different numbers, of which there are twenty-one,
are provided with explanatory titles, such as "Pierrot," "Harlequin,"
"Valse Noble," "Eusebius," "Chopin," etc. Of all the earlier works the
Fantasy-Pieces, Opus 12, are the most successful. These eight
pictures, "In the Evening," "Soaring," "Why," "Whims," "In the Night,"
"Fable," "Dreams," and "The End of the Song," or<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[Pg 470]</SPAN></span> peroration, are
extremely characteristic and beautiful, and it is not easy to assign
the pre-eminence of one number over the others. Of the same general
class, only upon a smaller scale, are the "Scenes from Childhood,"
Opus 15, of which there are thirteen little pieces, each with an
explanatory title, such as "Playing Tag," "Happy Enough," "Dreams"
(<i>Traumerei</i>). In this direction Schumann often composed at a later
period of his life. There is the "Album for the Young," Opus 68,
containing forty-three short pieces, all with titles; the twenty
"Album Leaves," Opus 124, and the "Forest Scenes," with titles like
"The Entrance," "The Hunter on the Lookout," "Solitary Flowers,"
"Prophetic Bird," "Hunting Song," etc.</p>
<p>Schumann's greatness as a composer for the pianoforte, both from a
technical and poetic standpoint, is shown in such works as the
"<i>Études Symphoniques</i>," the "<i>Kreisleriana</i>," and the concerto in A
minor. The first of these works is regarded by many as the most
satisfactory of any of this author's works. It consists of an air,
nine variations and a finale which is in rondo form. The variations,
however, are fantasies rather than variations, the theme itself
appearing very little in any of them, and in some of them not at all.
It would be impossible to find within the same compass a similar
number of pages covering so wide a range of beautiful pianoforte
effects, and highly suggestive and poetic music. In the fantasia in C,
Schumann's fancy takes on a more serious mood. He treats the piano
with great freedom, requiring of the player a powerful touch and much
refinement of tone-color, as well as a style of technique which he
himself has largely created. The second movement of this, the march
tempo, represents Schumann's imagination in a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[Pg 471]</SPAN></span> forcible light in two
directions—its bold, strong moods, and its deeply subjective,
meditative activity. The "<i>Kreisleriana</i>" consists of eight fantasies
named after an old schoolmaster near Leipsic, noted for his
eccentricities. This work was coldly received when first produced, but
later has become very popular. The best movements are the first and
second, but the entire work is strong. The concerto in A minor is by
no means a show piece for the piano, but an extremely vigorous and
poetic improvisation, in which the solo and orchestral instruments
answer each other, and work together in a furor of inspiration.</p>
<p>The entire art of modern piano playing is indebted to Schumann for
some of its most impressive elements. He was fond of playing with the
dampers raised, and might well contest the honor with Liszt of having
originated the modern style of pedal legato as distinguished from the
finger legato of Chopin and all the early writers. He seems to have
discovered the touch which Mason called elastic; that made by shutting
the hand and at the same allowing the wrist to remain flexible. In
quite a number of his pieces this effect is very marked, as the first
number of "<i>Kreisleriana</i>," the first of the "Night Pieces," and
especially the fourth of these, where the chords are purposely spread
beyond the octave, in order to necessitate their being struck with the
finger and arm touch combined, in the same manner as that illustrated
on a larger scale in the eleventh study of Chopin's, Opus 10. Indeed,
if one were to attempt to characterize the Schumann technique by some
one of its more prominent features, the free use of the arm would be,
perhaps, the one best representing the depth and sonority of tone
required for these effects. But while Schumann demands broad,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[Pg 472]</SPAN></span> deep,
elastic tone color for the stronger moments in his work, there is no
other writer so desirous as he of the soft, full, mysterious tone
representing what he was fond of calling <i>Innigkeit</i> ("inwardness").
There are many minor mannerisms which have been diligently cultivated
by later composers, the most prominent among them being perhaps what
might be called the accompaniment upon the off beat. In many of his
works Schumann occupies the middle ground of the piano with soft
chords which are felt rather than heard, and which always come in upon
the half beat or the quarter beat, and rarely or never upon the full
accented part of a measure. The differentiation of the melody from its
harmonic and rhythmic background is accomplished by this great master
in a beautiful manner. Take for instance, the romanze in F sharp, Opus
28, No. 2. The melody of the first strophe of this exquisite music
might have been written for Church. It is a duet for baritones, the
voices being represented by the thumbs of the player. Against this
melody in quarter notes and eighths, there is an accompaniment in
sixteenths, covering two octaves and a third, the entire effect being
soft and distant. In the second strophe the soprano voice takes the
melody, which is supported by rare harmonies and a lovely figuration
in the alto. The third strophe brings back again the principal
subject, and a splendid climax is made, after which an elaborate coda
concludes the work. It is impossible to play this lovely piece with
good effect without the Schumann technique. Played with the Mozart
technique it would be simply insipid, and with a Beethoven technique
it would still be dry and harsh. It is only by the combination of the
arm touch for the melody, the very obscure, unobtrusive finger touch
for the accom<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[Pg 473]</SPAN></span>paniment, and the constant use of the pedal for
promoting blending of tones, that the vague and poetic atmosphere of
this piece can be realized.</p>
<p>Schumann might also be credited with the invention of a new style of
composition, or of music thinking. The element of canonic imitation
occurs in his works in wholly new form. A single phrase or motive is
repeated through nearly an entire movement, in a thousand different
forms and transformations, so that the whole movement is made up from
this single germ; and yet with such mastery of rhythm and of harmony
as to conduct the thought to a powerful climax, without any impression
of monotony interfering with it. One can hardly go amiss in the large
works of Schumann for illustrations of this style of composition.
Take, for example, the Novelette in B minor, Opus 99; the Novelette in
E major, Opus 21, No. 7; the first of the "<i>Kreisleriana</i>," and many
other parts of the same work. This style I have elsewhere called the
"Thematic," as distinguished from the "Lyric," in which a flowing
melody is a distinctive trait. Beethoven, in a number of cases,
employs a style of thought development somewhat similar, but the
results accomplished are tamer than with Schumann. One of the most
striking examples is found in the finale of the sonata in D minor,
Opus 31, No. 2, and in the first movement of the sonata in C minor,
Opus 111. In this point of view Schumann appears as the predecessor of
Wagner, who almost certainly took his departure for thematic work from
Schumann.</p>
<p>If it were not for these numerous, highly poetic and masterly
compositions for pianoforte solo, and for the chamber pieces, the
symphonies and other large works, Schumann would have been entitled to
a very eminent<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[Pg 474]</SPAN></span> place among composers by his songs alone. These are as
different as possible from those of previous writers, excepting
Schubert, and the voice itself is not always well considered in them;
but there are no other works in this department in which the poetic
sentiment is so thoroughly reproduced in the music as Schumann has
done it in his "Woman's Love and Life," and in "Poet's Love," and in
many single songs of other sets, "The Spring Night" being a very
marked example. If the future should chance to produce a race of
poetic and intelligent singers, these songs will be found among the
most effective which the whole literature of music can show. Some of
them are already well and favorably known in all parts of the world.</p>
<p>The excellencies of Schumann as a song writer are only in part
reproduced in his larger works in the form of cantatas, and in the
opera of "<i>Genoveva</i>." He was without the technique of chorus
construction, and writes injudiciously for voices in mass. His
instrumentation, although graphically conceived, is not cleverly
worked out, in consequence of which we find in such works as the
"Pilgrimage of the Rose," "Paradise and the Peri," the "Faust" music,
and the opera of "<i>Genoveva</i>," some extremely brilliant suggestions
and contrasts, and occasionally fine moments, intermingled with many
others which fail for want of technical skill in the use of the
performing material.</p>
<p>The same restriction may be applied to the orchestral and chamber
works, in spite of the inherent force and beauty of the ideas they
contain. In the symphony, for example, he writes badly for the
violins, the very soul of the orchestra. The phrases are short,
staccato notes abound, and scarcely in an entire score have the
violin<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[Pg 475]</SPAN></span>ists the long sustained phrases, where the singing power of
this beautiful instrument appears. The best of the chamber pieces are
those in which the piano is the principal instrument, especially the
great quintette. This is a master work of a very high order, and while
the strings do not have the consideration that belongs to them, the
pianoforte is treated with so much freedom and power as in a great
measure to compensate for this lack.</p>
<p>Of the Schumann works as a whole the most striking characteristic is
the spontaneous, improvistic effect. Every Schumann piece—that is to
say, every <i>successful</i> Schumann piece—has the character of an
improvisation, in which the power and fancy of the composer are as
marked as his deep tenderness and sentiment, fine instinct for poetic
effect and a delicate ear for tone-color. For this reason the popular
appreciation of the Schumann works upon a large scale is only a
question of an educated generation. There are many indications of
progress in this direction on the part of musical amateurs the world
over. In Schumann's lifetime, and immediately after his death, the
neglect of his compositions was extreme. Dr. Wm. Mason narrates that
when he visited Leipsic in 1850, one of the first symphonies he heard
was Schumann's in B flat, the first composition of this writer he had
ever heard. The beauty and force of the work took complete possession
of him. A new world of tone was opened to him. He dreamed of the
Schumann symphony all night, and at early morning went down to
Breitkopf & Härtel's to inquire whether this man Schumann had written
anything for the piano. The salesman laid before him a few dusty
compositions off the shelves. The young American asked, "Is that all?"
More were produced. "Is that all?" he asked again,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[Pg 476]</SPAN></span> whereupon the
salesman, discovering that he had a Schumann enthusiast to deal with,
took advantage of the moment and in the cellar showed him whole
editions of Schumann pianoforte pieces tied up in bundles, exactly as
they had come from the printers. Liszt in some of his earlier concerts
attempted to patronize the Schumann compositions. Their style,
however, was so different from the sensationalism of his own pieces or
the sentiment of Chopin, that the public failed to appreciate them,
and the pianist dropped them. Nevertheless, there were reasons why
Liszt ought to have played these works. The Schumann technique is not
sensational, like that of Liszt, but it has with it one element in
common,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[Pg 477]</SPAN></span> already referred to—the pedal legato—and no pianist of that
time was so well prepared to recognize and interpret this element as
Liszt if he had realized his opportunity.</p>
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center"><SPAN name="FIG_87">
<ANTIMG src="images/fig87.png" width-obs="225" height-obs="300" alt="Fig. 87" title="Fig. 87" /></SPAN></p>
<p style="text-align: center"><b>Fig. 87.</b></p>
<p style="text-align: center"><b>ROBERT SCHUMANN.</b></p>
<p> </p>
<p>In person Schumann was of medium height, inclining to corpulency, with
a very soft and gentle walk and a most invincible habit of silence.
Old residents of Leipsic remember his visits to the rehearsals at the
<i>Gewandhaus</i>, where for a whole evening he would sit with his
handkerchief held over his mouth, never speaking a word to any one
from the beginning to the end, and going away as silently as he came.
Nevertheless, it was universally recognized that upon these occasions
Schumann heartily enjoyed himself, and to use his own words again, he
and the music "perfectly understood one another." His mind was
intensely active and fanciful. This is seen in all his pieces. The
rapidity of the musical thought, the strong contrasts of mood, the
proximity of remote chords and modulations, are all indications of
this mental trait. It was this, also, which finally destroyed him. His
mind became unbalanced, and after intermittent attacks of melancholy
his life ended with two years' almost entire oblivion of reason. In
spite of his comparative unpopularity in his own day, no one of the
romantic masters has left so strong an impression upon the composers
who came after him. In my opinion, the four great names which have
been most operative in establishing forms of musical thought and in
creating wholly original and highly poetic and masterly tone-poems by
means of those forms, are Bach, Beethoven, Schumann and Wagner, and
each one of the earlier masters has in his work the prophecy of most
of the qualities of those who come after, while each of the later
reflects the characteristic traits of his predecessors.</p>
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center">
<ANTIMG src="images/deco4.png" width-obs="200" height-obs="37" alt="decoration" title="decoration" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[Pg 478]</SPAN></span></p>
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