Recognizing that the trouble with "America" was not at all due to the n.o.ble words written by the man whom "fate tried to conceal by naming him Smith," Converse has written a new air to this poem.

Unfortunately, however, his method of varying the much-borrowed original tune is too transparent. He has not discarded the idea at all, or changed the rhythm or the spirit. He has only taken his tune upward where "G.o.d Save the Queen" moves down, and bent his melody down where the British soars up. This, I fancy, is the chief reason why his national hymn has gone over to the great majority, and has been conspicuously absent from such public occasions as torchlight parades and ratifications.

Except the work issued under the alias "Karl Redan," or the anagrams, "C.O. Nevers" and "C.E. Revons," his only secular musics that have been put into print are his American Overture, published in Paris, and a book of six songs, published in Germany.

Music is called the universal language, but it has strongly marked dialects, and sometimes a national flavor untranslatable to foreign peoples. So with these six songs, not the words alone are German. They are based on a Teutonic, and they modulate only from Berlin to Braunschweig and around to Leipzig. While the songs repay study, they are rather marked by a pianistic meditation than a strictly lyric emotion. "Aufmunterung zur Freude" is a tame allegretto; "Wehmuth" is better; "Tauschung" is a short elegy of pa.s.sion and depth; "Ruhe in der Geliebten" is best in its middle strain where it is full of rich feeling and harmony. The ending is cheap. "Der gefangene Sanger" is only a slight variant at first on the "Adieu" credited to Schubert; it is thereafter excellent.

Converse has a large body of music in ma.n.u.script, none of which I had the pleasure of examining save a tender sacred lullaby. There are two symphonies, ten suites, and concert overture, three symphonic poems, an oratorio, "The Captivity," six string quartettes, and a ma.s.s of psalmodic and other vocal writing.

Of these works three have been produced with marked success: the "Christmas Overture," at one of the public concerts of the Ma.n.u.script Society, under the direction of Walter Damrosch; the overture "Im Fruhling," at concerts in Brooklyn and New York, under the baton of Theodore Thomas; and the American overture, "Hail Columbia!" at the Boston Peace Jubilee under Patrick Gilmore, at the Columbian Exposition under Thomas, and in New York under Anton Seidl.

This last overture received the distinction of publication at Paris, by Schott et Cie. It is built on the rousing air of "Hail, Columbia!"

This is suggested in the slow minor introduction; the air itself is indicated thematically as one of the subjects later appearing in full swing in a coda. The instrumentation is brilliant and the climax overwhelming.

Altogether the work is more than adroit musical composition. It is a prairie-fire of patriotism.

_L.A. Coerne._

[Ill.u.s.tration: LOUIS ADOLPHE COERNE.]

A grand opera by an American on an American subject is an achievement to look forward to. Though I have not seen this opera, called "A Woman of Marblehead," it is safe to predict, from a study of its composer's other works, that it is a thing of merit.

Louis Adolphe Coerne, who wrote the music for this opera, was born in Newark, N.J., in 1870, and spent the years from six to ten in music study abroad, at Stuttgart and Paris. Returning to America, he entered Harvard College and studied harmony and composition under John Knowles Paine. He studied the violin under Kneisel. In 1890 he went to Munich, where he studied the organ and composition at the Royal Academy of Music, under Rheinberger, and the violin under Hieber. He now decided to give up the career of a violinist for that of composer, conductor, and organist. In 1893 he returned to Boston and acted as organist. A year later he went to Buffalo, where for three years he directed the Liedertafel.

While in Harvard, Coerne had composed and produced a concerto for violin and 'cello with string orchestra accompaniment, a fantasy for full orchestra, and a number of anthems which were performed at the university chapel. While in Munich and Stuttgart he wrote and produced a string suite, an organ concerto with accompaniment of strings, horns, and harps, three choral works, and a ballet, "Evadne," on a subject of his own. His symphonic poem on Longfellow's "Hiawatha" was also produced there with much success under his personal direction, and later by the Boston Symphony Orchestra. He was invited then by Theodore Thomas to attend the World's Fair at Chicago, to give recitals on the great organ in Festival Hall.

It has been my misfortune not to have heard or seen hardly any of his writings except the published "Character Pieces" from the ballet "Evadne" (op. 155). A "Clown's Dance" in bolero rhythm is delightful.

The "Introduction to Act II." contains many varied ideas and one pa.s.sage of peculiar harmonic beauty. A "Valse de Salon" has its good bits, but is rather overwrought. A "Devil's Dance" introduces some excellent harmonic effects, but the "Waltz with Chorus and Finale" is the best number of the opus. It begins in the orchestra with a most irresistible waltz movement that is just what a waltz should be. A chorus is then superimposed on this rhapsody, and a climax of superb richness attained.

For the organ Coerne has written much and well. There is an adaptation of three pieces from the string quartette (op. 19); a graceful Minuet, a quaint Aria, and a Fugue. Then there are three Marches, which, like most marches written by contemplative musicians, are rather thematic than spirited, and marked by a restless and elaborate preparation for some great chant that is longed for, but never comes. Besides these, there are a very pleasant Pastoral, a good Elevation, and a Nocturne.

Coerne's symphonic poem, "Hiawatha," has been arranged for the piano for four hands, and there is also an arrangement for violin or violoncello and piano, but I have not seen these. The thing we are all waiting for is that American grand opera, "A Woman of Marblehead." It is to be predicted that she will not receive the marble heart.

CHAPTER IV.

THE COLONISTS.

Art does not prosper as hermit. Of course, every great creator has a certain aloofness of soul, and an inner isolation; but he must at times submit his work to the comparison of his fellow artists; he must profit by their discoveries as well as their errors; he must grow overheated in those pa.s.sionate musical arguments that never convince any one out of his former belief, and serve salutarily to raise the temper, cultivate caloric, and deepen convictions previously held; he must exchange criticisms and discuss standards with others, else he will be eternally making discoveries that are stale and unprofitable to the rest of the world; he will seek to reach men's souls through channels long dammed up, and his achievements will be marred by nave triteness and primitive crudeness.

So, while the artistic tendency may be a universal nervous system, artists are inclined to ganglionate. The nerve-knots vary in size and importance, and one chief ganglion may serve as a feeding brain, but it cannot monopolize the activity. In America, particularly, these ganglia, or colonies, are an interesting and vital phase of our development. For a country in which the different federated states are, many of them, as large as old-world kingdoms, it is manifestly impossible for any one capital to dominate. Furthermore, the national spirit is too insubordinate to accept any centre as an oracle.

New York, which has certainly drawn to itself a preponderance of respectable composers, has yet been unable to gather in many of the most important, and like the French Academy, must always suffer in prestige because of its conspicuous absentees. In the second place, New York is the least serious and most fickle city in the country, and is regarded with mingled envy and patronage by other cities.

Boston is even more unpopular with the rest of the country. And New York and other cities have enticed away so many of the leading spirits of her musical colony, that she cannot claim her once overwhelming superiority. And yet, Boston has been, and is, the highest American representative of that much abused term, culture. Of all the arts, music doubtless gets her highest favor.

The aid Boston has been to American music is vital, and far outweighs that of any other city. That so magnificent an organization as its Symphony Orchestra could be so popular, shows the solidity of its general art appreciations. The orchestra has been remarkably willing, too, to give the American composer a chance to be heard. Boston has been not only the promulgator, but in a great measure the tutor, of American music.

In Boston-town, folk take things seriously and studiously. In New York they take them fiercely, whimsically. Like most generalizations, this one has possibly more exceptions than inclusions. But it is convenient.

It is convenient, too, to group together such of the residents of these two towns, as I have not discussed elsewhere. The Chicago coterie makes another busy community; and St. Louis and Cleveland have their activities of more than intramural worth; Cincinnati, which was once as musically thriving as its strongly German qualities necessitated, but which had a swift and strange decline, seems to be plucking up heart again. For this, the energy of Frank van der Stucken is largely to credit. Aside from the foreign-born composers there, one should mention the work of Richard Kieserling, Jr., and Emil Wiegand.

The former went to Europe in 1891 and studied at the Leipzig Conservatory, under Reinecke, Homeyer, Rust, Schreck and Jada.s.sohn. He also studied conducting under Sitt. At his graduation, he conducted a performance of his own composition, "Jeanne d'Arc." He returned to his native city, Cincinnati, in 1895, where he has since remained, teaching and conducting. Among his works, besides piano pieces and songs, are: "A May Song," for women's chorus and piano; six pieces for violin and piano; "Harold," a ballad for male chorus, barytone solo, and orchestra; "Were It Not For Love," composed for male chorus; several sets of male choruses; a motet for mixed chorus a cappella; a berceuse for string orchestra, an introduction and rondo for violin and orchestra; and a "Marche Nuptiale," for grand orchestra.

Emil Wiegand was also born in Cincinnati, and had his first tuition on the violin from his father. His theoretical studies have been received entirely in Cincinnati. He is a member of the local Symphonic Orchestra, and has composed an overture for grand orchestra, a string quartette, and various pieces for the violin, piano, and voice.

In San Francisco there is less important musical composition than there was in the days when Kelley and Page were active there. The work of H.B. Pasmore is highly commended by _cognoscenti_, as are also the works of Frederick Zeck, Jr., who was born in San Francisco, studied in Germany, and has composed symphonies, a symphonic poem, "Lamia," a romantic opera, and other works; Samuel Fleischmann, born in California and educated abroad, a concert pianist, who has written, among other things, an overture, "Hero and Leander," which was performed in New York; and P.C. Allen, who studied in Europe, and has written well.

But the larger cities do not by any means contain all the worthy composition. In many smaller cities, and in a few villages even, can be found men of high culture and earnest endeavor.

In Yonkers, New York, is Frederick R. Burton, who has written a dramatic cantata on Longfellow's "Hiawatha," which has been frequently performed. In this work use is made of an actual Indian theme, which was jotted down by H.E. Krehbiel, and is worked up delightfully in the cantata, an incessant thudding of a drum in an incommensurate rhythm giving it a decidedly barbaric tone. The cantata contains also a quaint and touching contralto aria, and a pathetic setting of the death-song of Minnehaha. Burton is a graduate of Harvard, and a writer as well as a composer. He organized, in 1896, the Yonkers Choral Society, of which he is conductor.

At Hartford, Conn., is Nathan H. Allen, who was born in Marion, Ma.s.s., in 1848. In 1867 he went to Berlin, where he was a pupil of Haupt for three years. In this country he has been active as an organist and teacher. Many of his compositions of sacred music have been published, including a cantata, "The Apotheosis of St. Dorothy."

At Providence, R.I., a prominent figure is Jules Jordan, who was born at Willimantic, Conn., November 10, 1850, of colonial ancestry. Though chiefly interested in oratorio singing, in which he has been prominent, he has written a number of songs, some of which have been very popular. The best of these are a rapturous "Love's Philosophy," a delicious "Dutch Lullaby," "An Old Song," and "Stay By and Sing." He has written some religious songs, part songs, and three works for soli, chorus, and orchestra, "Windswept Wheat," "A Night Service," and "Barbara Frietchie;" also "Joel," a dramatic scene for soprano and orchestra, sung at the Worcester Musical Festival by Mme. Nordica.

This I have not seen, nor his romantic opera, "Rip Van Winkle." In June, 1895, Brown University conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Music. Two alb.u.ms of his songs are published.

A writer of many religious solos and part songs is E.W. Hanscom, who lives in Auburn, Me. He was born at Durham, in the same State, December 28, 1848. He has made two extended visits to London, Berlin and Vienna, for special work under eminent teachers, but has chiefly studied in Maine. Besides his sacred songs Hanscom has published a group of six songs, all written intelligently, and an especially good lyric, "Go, Rose, and in Her Golden Hair," a very richly harmonized "Lullaby," and two "Christmas Songs," with violin obbligato.

In Delaware, Ohio, at the Ohio Wesleyan University, is a composer, Willard J. Baltzell, who has found inspiration for many worthy compositions, but publishers for only two, both of these part songs, "Dreamland" and "Life is a Flower," of which the latter is very excellent writing.

Baltzell was for some years a victim of the musical la.s.situde of Philadelphia. He had his musical training there. He has written in the large forms a suite founded on Rossetti's "Love's Nocturne," an overture, "Three Guardsmen," a "Novelette" for orchestra, a cantata, "The Mystery of Life," and an unfinished setting of Psalm xvii. with barytone solo. These are all scored for orchestra, and the ma.n.u.script that I have seen shows notable psychological power. Other works are: a string quartette, a trio, "Lilith," based on Rossetti's poem, "Eden Bower," a nonet, and a violin sonata. He has also written for the piano and organ fugues and other works. These I have not seen; but I have read many of his songs in ma.n.u.script, and they reveal a remarkable strenuousness, and a fine understanding of the poetry. His song, "Desire," is full of high-colored flecks of harmony that dance like the golden motes in a sunbeam. His "Madrigal" has much style and humor. He has set to music a deal of the verse of Langdon E. Mitch.e.l.l, besides a song cycle, "The Journey," which is an interesting failure,--a failure because it cannot interest any public singer, and interesting because of its artistic musical landscape suggestion; and there are the songs, "Fallen Leaf," which is deeply morose, and "Loss," which has some remarkable details and a strange, but effective, ambiguous ending. Other songs are a superbly rapturous setting of E.C. Stedman's "Thou Art Mine," and a series of songs to the words of Richard Watson Gilder, a poet who is singularly interesting to composers: "Thistledown" is irresistibly volatile; "Because the Rose Must Fade" has a n.o.bility of mood; "The Winter Heart" is a powerful short song, and "Woman's Thought," aside from one or two dangerous moments, is stirring and intense. Baltzell writes elaborate accompaniments, for which his skill is sufficient, and he is not afraid of his effects.

In the far Xanadu of Colorado lives Rubin Goldmark, a nephew of the famous Carl Goldmark. He was born in New York in 1872. He attended the public schools and the College of the City of New York. At the age of seven he began the study of the piano with Alfred M. Livonius, with whom he went to Vienna at the age of seventeen. There he studied the piano with Anton Door, and composition with Fuchs, completing in two years a three years' course in harmony and counterpoint. Returning to New York, he studied with Rafael Joseffy and with Doctor Dvorak for one year. In 1892 he went to Colorado Springs for his health. Having established a successful College of Music there, he has remained as its director and as a lecturer on musical topics.

At the age of nineteen he wrote his "Theme and Variations" for orchestra. They were performed under Mr. Seidl's leadership in 1895 with much success. Their harmonies are singularly clear and sweet, of the good old school. At the age of twenty Goldmark wrote a trio for piano, violin, and 'cello. After the first performance of this work at one of the conservatory concerts, Doctor Dvorak exclaimed, "There are now two Goldmarks." The work has also had performance at the concerts of the Kaltenborn Quartette, and has been published. It begins with a tentative questioning, from which a serious allegro is led forth. It is lyrical and sane, though not particularly modern, and certainly not revolutionary in spirit. The second movement, a romanza, shows more contrapuntal resource, and is full of a deep yearning and appeal,--an extremely beautiful movement. The scherzo evinces a taking jocosity with a serious interval. The piano part is especially humorous. The finale begins with a touch of Ethiopianism that is perhaps unconscious. The whole movement is very original and quaint.

Goldmark's music shows a steady development from a conservative simplicity to a modern elaborateness, a development thoroughly to be commended if it does not lead into obscurity. This danger seems to threaten Goldmark's career, judging from his cantata for chorus and orchestra, the "Pilgrimage to Kevlaar," which, while highly interesting in places, and distinctly resourceful, is too abstruse and gloomy to stand much chance of public understanding.

Many of the works that I have had the privilege of examining in MS.

have since been published; there is much originality, much attainment, and more promise in a number of his songs. His setting of Marlowe's "Come Live with Me," in spite of a few eccentricities, shows, on the whole, a great fluency of melody over an elaborately beautiful accompaniment. His solemn and mysterious "Forest Song" could deserve the advertis.e.m.e.nt of being "drawn from the wood." "Die erste Liebe"

shows a contemplative originality in harmony, and ends with a curious dissonance and resolution. "O'er the Woods' Brow" is very strange and interesting, though somewhat abstruse. Less so is a song, "An den Abendsstern;" it has a comparison-forcing name, but is a delightful song. "Es muss ein Wunderbares sein" is notable for novel effects in harmonies of crystal with light dissonances to edge the facets. A sonata for piano and violin and a romanza for 'cello have been published, and his "Hiawatha" overture has been played by the Boston Symphony Orchestra. On this occasion the always quoteworthy mezzotintist, James Huneker, wrote:

"The nephew of a very remarkable composer,--for Carl Goldmark outranks to-day all the Griegs, Ma.s.senets, Mascagnis, Saint-Saens, and Dvoraks you can gather,--he needs must fear the presence in his scores of the avuncular apparition. His 'Hiawatha' overture was played by Mr. Gericke and the Boston Symphony Orchestra Wednesday of last week. At the first cantilena on the strings I nearly jumped out of my seat. It was bewilderingly luscious and Goldmarkian,--a young Goldmark come to judgment. The family gifts are color and rhythm. This youth has them, and he also has brains. Original invention is yet to come, but I have hopes. The overture, which is not Indian, is full of good things, withal too lengthy in the free fantasia. There is life, and while there's life there's rhythm, and a nice variety there is. The allegro has one stout tune, and the rush and dynamic glow lasts. He lasts, does Rubin Goldmark, and I could have heard the piece through twice. The young American composer has not been idle lately."

_The New York Colony._

In every period where art is alive there must be violent faction, and wherever there is violent faction there is sure to be a _tertium quid_ that endeavors to bridge the quarrel. The Daniel Websters call forth the Robert Haynes, and the two together evoke the compromisers, the Henry Clays.

In the struggle between modernity and cla.s.sicism that always rages when music is in vitality, one always finds certain ardent spirits who endeavor to reconcile the conflicting theories of the different schools, and to materialize the reconciliation in their own work. An interesting example of this is to be found in the anatomical construction of one of the best American piano compositions, the fantasy for piano and orchestra by Arthur Whiting.

The composer has aimed to pay his respects to the cla.s.sic sonata formula, and at the same time to warp it to more romantic and modern usages. The result of his experiment is a form that should interest every composer. As Whiting phrases it, he has "telescoped" the sonata form. The slow introduction prepares for the first and second subjects, which appear, as usual, except that they are somewhat developed as they appear. Now, in place of the regular development, the pastoral movement is brought forward. This is followed by the reprise of the first and second subjects. Then the finale appears. All of these movements are performed without pause, and the result is so successful that Whiting is using the same plan for a quintette.

Handwriting experts are fond of referring to the "picture effect" of a page of writing. It is sometimes startling to see the resemblance in "picture effect" between the music pages of different composers. The handsomely abused Perosi, for instance, writes many a page, which, if held at arm's length, you would swear was one of Palestrina's. Some of Mr. Whiting's music has a decidedly Brahmsic picture effect. This feeling is emphasized when one remembers the enthusiasm shown for Brahms in Whiting's concerts, where the works of the Ursus Minor of Vienna hold the place of honor. The resemblance is only skin deep, however, and Whiting's music has a mind of its own.

The fantasy in question (op. 11) is full of individuality and brilliance. The first subject is announced appa.s.sionato by the strings, the piano joining with arabesquery that follows the general outlines. After this is somewhat developed, the second subject comes in whimsically in the relative major. This is written with great chromatic lusciousness, and is quite liberally developed. It suddenly disappears into what is ordinarily called the second movement, a pastoral, in which the piano is answered by the oboe, flute, clarinet, and finally the horn. This is gradually appa.s.sionated until it is merged into the reprise of the first movement proper. During this reprise little glints of reminiscence of the pastoral are seen. A coda of great bravery leads to the last movement, which is marked "scherzando," but is rather martial in tone. The decidedly n.o.ble composition ends with great brilliancy and strength. It is published for orchestral score and for two pianos.