Chapter XVI: Part 16

We have mentioned the success of this overture at Berlin, when it was played as the prelude to the opera and under Weber’s direction; a success that dumfounded the followers of Spontini and settled the future of German opera in the capital. And so, wherever the overture was played, the effect was overwhelming—as in London, where the opera was first performed in English, July 22 (?), 1824, at the English opera house. W. T. Parke wrote: “The music of this opera is such a continued display of science, taste, and melody as to justify any praises bestowed on it. The overture embraces most of the subjects of the airs in the opera, ingeniously interwoven with each other, and is quite original. The grandeur of some passages and the finely contrasted simplicity of others produced an effect which was irresistible. It was vehemently encored.”

Much has been written about the overture, from the rhapsody of Douglas Jerrold to Wagner’s critical remarks concerning the true reading. The enthusiasm of Berlioz is well known: “The overture is crowned Queen; today no one dreams of disputing it. It is cited as the model of the kind. The theme of the slow movement and that of the _allegro_ are sung everywhere. There is one theme that I must mention, because it is less noticed, and also because it moves me incomparably more than all the rest. It is that long, groaning melody, thrown by the clarinet over the tremolo of the orchestra, like unto a far-off lamentation scattered by the winds in the depths of the forest. It strikes home to the heart; and for me, at least, this virginal song, which seems to breathe skyward a timid reproach, while a somber harmony shudders and threatens, is one of the most novel, poetic, and beautiful contrasts that modern art has produced in music. In this instrumental inspiration one can already recognize easily a reflection of the character of Agathe, which is soon to develop in all its passionate purity. The theme is borrowed, however, from the part of Max. It is the cry of the young hunter at the moment when, from his rocky height, he sounds with his eyes the abysses of the infernal glen. Changed a little in outline, and orchestrated in this manner, the phrase is different both in aspect and accent.” Compare with this the remarks of Berlioz in the section on the clarinet in his “Treatise on Instrumentation.” The clarinet, he says, has the precious faculty of producing “distance, echo, an echo of echo, and a twilight sound.... What more admirable example could I quote of the application of some of these shadowings than the dreamy phrase of the clarinet, accompanied by a tremolo of stringed instruments in the midst of the _allegro_ of the overture to _Freischütz_? Does it not depict the lonely maiden, the forester’s fair betrothed, who, raising her eyes to heaven, mingles her tender lament with the noise of the dark woods agitated by the storm? O Weber!!”

The overture begins _adagio_, C major, 4-4. After eight measures of introduction there is a part song for four horns. This section of the overture is not connected in any way with subsequent stage action. After the quarter the Samiel motive appears, and there is the thought of Max and his temptation. The main body of the overture is _molto_ _vivace_, C minor, 2-2. The sinister music rises to a climax, which is repeated during the casting of the seventh bullet in the Wolf’s Glen. In the next episode, E flat major, themes associated with Max (clarinet) and Agathe (first violins and clarinet) appear. The climax of the first section reappears, now in major, and there is use of Agathe’s theme. There is repetition of the demoniac music that introduces the _allegro_, and Samiel’s motive dominates the modulation to the _coda_, C major, _fortissimo_, which is the apotheosis of Agathe.

OVERTURE TO THE OPERA “EURYANTHE”

The overture is not without a certain old-fashioned but veritable pomp; it has the spirit of ceremony which the admirers of Weber call “the chivalric spirit.” It would be perhaps an idle task for an ultra-modern to insist that the only music in this overture that appeals to the men and women of the younger generation is that of the short episode which was originally intended to accompany a pantomimic scene on the stage, a scene of old-fashioned romantic melodrama, with tomb, kneeling heroine, gliding ghost, and an eavesdropping, intriguing woman. In these few mysterious measures Weber thought far beyond his period. The ultra-modern might say that the rest of the music is decorative and that the decorations are substantial till they are cumbrous; that the melodies are like unto a cameo brooch worn by a woman who remembers nights of coquetry and dances long out of fashion; that the few measures of counterpoint show Weber as a plodding amateur. Nevertheless, the conventionally jubilant swing and the impetuous pace still make their way in a concert hall.

* * *

_Euryanthe_, grand heroic-romantic opera in three acts, book founded by Helmina von Chezy on an old French tale of the thirteenth century, “Histoire de Gérard de Nevers et de la belle et vertueuse Euryant de Savoye, sa mie”—a tale used by Boccaccio (_Decameron_, second day, ninth novel) and Shakespeare (_Cymbeline_)—music by Weber, was produced at the Kärnthnerthor Court Opera Theater, Vienna, October 25, 1823. The composer conducted. Domineco Barbaja, manager of the Kärnthnerthor and the An der Wien theaters, had commissioned Weber to write for the former opera house an opera in the style of _Der Freischütz_. Weber had several librettos in mind before he chose that of _Euryanthe_; he was impressed by one concerning the Cid, by Friedrich Kind. The two quarreled. Then he thought of the story of Dido, Queen of Carthage, as told by Ludwig Rellstab, but this subject had tempted many composers before him. Helmina von Chezy, living in Dresden when Weber was there, had written the text of “Rosamunde” to which Schubert set music. The failure of this work apparently did not frighten Weber from accepting a libretto from her. She had translated a version of the old French tale mentioned above for a collection of medieval poems (_Sammlung romantischer Dichtungen des Mittelalters_), edited by Fr. Schlegel, which was published at Leipsic in 1804. She entitled her version, “Die Geschichte der Tugendsamen Euryanthe von Savoyen” (The Story of the Innocent Euryanthe of Savoy). The original version is in the _Roman de la Violette_, by Gilbert de Montreuil.

As soon as the text of the first act was ready (December 15, 1821), Weber began to compose the music. He wrote a large portion of the opera at Hosterwitz. The opera was completed without the overture on August 29, 1823. Weber began to compose the overture on September 1, 1823, and completed it at Vienna on October 19 of that year. He scored the overture at Vienna, October 16-19, 1823.

Weber wrote to his wife on the day after the first performance, “My reception, when I appeared in the orchestra, was the most enthusiastic and brilliant that one could imagine. There was no end to it. At last I gave the signal for the beginning. Stillness of death. The overture was applauded madly; there was a demand for a repetition; but I went ahead, so that the performance might not be too long drawn out.”

Max Maria von Weber, in the life of his father, gives a somewhat different account. A grotesque incident occurred immediately before the performance. There was a tumult in the parterre of the opera house. There was laughing, screaming, cursing. A fat, carelessly dressed woman, with a crushed hat and a shawl hanging from her shoulders, was going from seat to seat, screaming out: “Make room for me! I am the poetess!” It was Mme von Chezy, who had forgotten to bring her ticket and was thus heroically attempting to find her seat. The laughter turned into applause when Weber appeared in the orchestra, and the applause continued until the signal for the beginning was given. “The performance of the overture,” says Max von Weber, “was not worthy of the usually excellent orchestra; indeed, it was far inferior to that at the dress rehearsal. Perhaps the players were too anxious to do well, or, and this is more probable, perhaps the fault was in the lack of sufficient rehearsal. The ensemble was faulty—in some places the violins actually played false—and, although a repetition was demanded by some, the impression made by the poetic composition was not to be compared with that made later in Berlin, Dresden, and the Gewandhaus concert in Leipsic.” Yet Max von Weber says later that Count Brühl wrote the composer, January 18, 1824, that the overture played for the first time in Berlin in a concert by F. L. Seidel hardly made any impression at all. To this Weber answered, January 23: “That the overture failed is naturally very unpleasant for me. It must have been wholly misplayed, which I am led to believe from the remarks about its difficulty. The Vienna orchestra, which is in no way as good as that of Berlin, performed it _prima vista_ without any jar to my satisfaction, and, as it seemed, with effect.”

The overture begins E flat, _allegro marcato, con molto fuoco_, 4-4, though the half note is the metronomic standard indicated by Weber. After eight measures of an impetuous and brilliant exordium the first theme is announced by wind instruments in full harmony, and it is derived from Adolar’s phrase: “_Ich bau’ auf Gott und meine Euryanth’_” (Act I, No. 4). The original tonality is preserved. This theme is developed brilliantly until, after a crashing chord, B flat, of full orchestra and vigorous drumbeats, a transitional phrase for violoncellos leads to the second theme, which is of a tender nature. Sung by the first violins over sustained harmony in the other strings, this theme is associated in the opera with the words, “_O Seligkeit, dich fass’ ich kaum!_” from Adolar’s air, “_Wehen mir Lüfte Ruh’_” (Act II, No. 12). The measures of the exordium return, there is a strong climax, and then after a long organ-point there is silence.

The succeeding short _largo_, charged with mystery, refers to Eglantine’s vision of Emma’s ghost and to the fatal ring. Eglantine has taken refuge in the castle of Nevers and won the affection of Euryanthe, who tells her the tragic story of Emma and her betrothed, Udo; for the ghost of Emma, sister of Adolar, had appeared to Euryanthe and told her that Udo had been her faithful lover. He fell in battle. As life was to her then worthless, she took poison from a ring, and was thereby separated from Udo; a wretched ghost, she was doomed to wander by night until the ring should be wet with the tears shed by an innocent maiden in her time of danger and extreme need (Act I, No. 6). Eglantine steals the ring from the sepulcher. She gives it to Lysiart, who shows it to the Court, swearing that he had received it from Euryanthe, false to Adolar. The music is also heard in part in Act III (No. 23), where Eglantine, about to marry Lysiart, sees in the madness of sudden remorse the ghost of Emma, and soon after reveals the treachery.

In _Euryanthe_, as in the old story of Gérard de Nevers, in the tale told by Boccaccio, and in _Cymbeline_, a wager is made over a woman’s chastity. In each story the boasting lover or husband is easily persuaded to jealousy and revenge by the villain bragging of favors granted to him.

For these three overtures, Weber used the customary orchestration of
wood-winds in twos, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones,
kettledrums, and strings.—EDITOR.

RALPH VAUGHAN
WILLIAMS

(Born at Down Ampney on the Borders of Gloucestershire and Wiltshire,
England, on October 12, 1872)

A LONDON SYMPHONY

I. Lento; Allegro risoluto
II. Lento
III. Scherzo (Nocturne): Allegro vivace
IV. Andante con moto; Maestoso alla marcia
Epilogue: Andante sostenuto

It is doubtful whether without the title and descriptive programme a hearer, as the music was playing, would say, “Aha! London—I hear the Thames, the roar and bustle of the streets. Now we are in foggy, dismal Bloomsbury. Let’s go to the Thames Embankment. And now we see the march of the unemployed.” No. The austere, remote Delius wrote a symphonic poem _Paris_, which is anything but the Paris of _Louise_, and might be Rouen, Belfast, or Terre Haute.

A critic in London reproached Williams for introducing in this symphony a theme too much like the notes of “Have a banana!” from a song. “We’ll All Go Down the Strand,” a popular music-hall ditty in the London of 1897. Perhaps Williams did this deliberately for the sake of “local color.”

The symphony contains pages of great worth. The first two movements are the richest in musical thought and in powerful expression. The idea of sleeping London is admirably brought out, and the contrast with London awake is symphonically, not merely theatrically, dramatic. The second movement is an excellent example of tonal painting. It seems to us that the succeeding movements lack varied and contrasting coloring. The “Hunger March” of the unemployed is disappointing. The subject called for a Hector Berlioz. The epilogue is of a higher flight of imagination. On the whole, the symphony is an important contribution to orchestral literature, one of the most important—and they have not been many—in a dozen years.

* * *

This symphony was composed in 1912-13. The first performance was at one of F. B. Ellis’s concerts in Queen’s Hall, London, on March 27, 1914. Geoffrey Toye was the conductor. On May 4, 1920, the revised version of the symphony was brought out at Queen’s Hall, London, at a concert of the British Music Society. Albert Coates conducted. This performance was said to be the fourth. It was also said that the symphony had been “shortened a good deal, particularly at the closes of the movements, on the way.”

The following description by Mr. Coates of the symphony was published in the bulletin of the society:

“The first movement opens at daybreak by the river. Old Father Thames flows calm and silent under the heavy gray dawn, deep and thoughtful, shrouded in mystery. London sleeps, and in the hushed stillness of early morning one hears Big Ben (the Westminster chimes) solemnly strike the half-hour.

“Suddenly the scene changes (_allegro_); one is on the Strand in the midst of the bustle and turmoil of morning traffic. This is London street life of the early hours—a steady stream of foot passengers hurrying, newspaper boys shouting, messengers whistling, and that most typical sight of London streets, the costermonger (Coster ’Arry), resplendent in pearl buttons, and shouting some coster song refrain at the top of a raucous voice, returning from Covent Garden Market, seated on his vegetable barrow drawn by the inevitable little donkey.

“Then for a few moments one turns off the Strand into one of the quiet little streets that lead down to the river and suddenly the noise ceases, shut off as though by magic. We are in the part of London known as the Adelphi. Formerly the haunt of fashionable bucks and dandies about town, now merely old-fashioned houses and shabby old streets, haunted principally by beggars and ragged street urchins.

“We return to the Strand and are once again caught up by the bustle and life of London—gay, careless, noisy, with every now and then a touch of something fiercer, something inexorable—as though one felt for a moment the iron hand of the great city—yet, nevertheless, full of that mixture of good-humor, animal spirits, and sentimentality that is so characteristic of London.

“Second Movement

“In the second movement the composer paints us a picture of that region of London which lies between Holborn and the Euston Road, known as Bloomsbury. Dusk is falling. It is the damp and foggy twilight of a late November day. Those who know their London know this region of melancholy streets over which seems to brood an air of shabby gentility—a sad dignity of having seen better days. In the gathering gloom there is something ghostlike. A silence hangs over the neighborhood broken only by the policeman on his beat.

“There is tragedy, too, in Bloomsbury, for among the many streets between Holborn and Euston there are alleys of acute poverty and worse.

“In front of a ‘pub’ whose lights flare through the murky twilight stands an old musician playing the fiddle. His tune is played in the orchestra by the viola. In the distance the ‘lavender cry’ is heard: ‘Sweet lavender; who’ll buy sweet lavender?’ Up and down the street the cry goes, now nearer, now farther away.

“The gloom deepens and the movement ends with the old musician still playing his pathetic little tune.

“Third Movement

“In this movement one must imagine one’s self sitting late on a Saturday night on one of the benches of the Temple Embankment (that part of the Thames Embankment lying between the Houses of Parliament and Waterloo Bridge). On our side of the river all is quiet, and in the silence one hears from a distance coming from the other side of the river all the noises of Saturday night in the slums. (The ‘other’ side, the south side of the river Thames, is a vast network of very poor quarters and slums.) On a Saturday night these slums resemble a fair; the streets are lined with barrows, lit up by flaming torches, selling cheap fruit, vegetables, produce of all kinds; the streets and alleys are crowded with people. At street corners coster girls in large feather hats dance their beloved ‘double-shuffle jig’ to the accompaniment of a mouth organ. We seem to hear distant laughter; also every now and then what sounds like cries of suffering. Suddenly a concertina breaks out above the rest; then we hear a few bars on a hurdy-gurdy organ. All this softened by distance, melted into one vast hum, floats across the river to us as we sit meditating on the Temple Embankment.

“The music changes suddenly, and one feels the Thames flowing silent, mysterious, with a touch of tragedy. One of London’s sudden fogs comes down, making Slumland and its noises seem remote. Again, for a few bars, we feel the Thames flowing through the night, and the picture fades into fog and silence.

“Fourth Movement

“The last movement deals almost entirely with the cruder aspect of London, the London of the unemployed and unfortunate. After the opening bars we hear the ‘Hunger March’—a ghostly march past of those whom the city grinds and crushes, the great army of those who are cold and hungry and unable to get work.

“We hear again the noise and bustle of the streets (reminiscences of the first movement), but these now also take on the cruder aspect. There are sharp discords in the music. This is London as seen by the man who is ‘out and under.’ The man ‘out of a job’ who watches the other man go whistling to his work, the man who is starving, watching the other man eat—and the cheerful, bustling picture of gay street life becomes distorted, a nightmare seen by the eyes of suffering.

“The music ends abruptly, and in the short silence that follows one again hears Big Ben chiming from Westminster Tower.

“There follows the epilogue, in which we seem to feel the great, deep soul of London—London as a whole, vast and unfathomable—and the symphony ends as it began, with the river, old Father Thames flowing calm and silent, as he has flowed through the ages, the keeper of many secrets, shrouded in mystery.”

And yet the composer has been quoted as saying:

“The title might run _A Symphony by a Londoner_—that is to say, various sights and sounds of London may have influenced the composer, but it would not be helpful to describe these. The work must succeed or fail as music, and in no other way. Therefore, if the hearers recognize a few suggestions of such things as the Westminster chimes, or the lavender cry, these must be treated as accidents and not essentials of the music.”

The symphony is dedicated “to the memory of George Butterworth,” a young composer of great promise, Lieutenant of the Durham Light Infantry, who was killed on August 5, 1916, “after successfully taking an enemy trench at the head of a bombing party.” It is scored for these instruments: three flutes (and piccolo), two oboes, English horn, two clarinets, bass clarinet, two bassoons, double bassoon, four horns, two trumpets, two _cornets-à-pistons_, three trombones, bass tuba, a set of three kettledrums, snare drum, bass drum, cymbals, triangle, jingles (the little cymbals, or plates, fixed in the wooden hoop of a tambourine), tam-tam, glockenspiel, two harps, and strings.

FOOTNOTES

[1]Translation into English by Charles Sanford Terry: _Bach: A
Biography_, London, 1928.

[2]C. H. H. Parry: _Johann Sebastian Bach_, 1909.

[3]Hector Berlioz: _À travers champs_, 1862.

[4]Michel Brenet (Marie Bobillier): _Histoire de la Symphonie à
l’orchestre_.

[5]Alexander von Ulibichev: _Beethoven, ses critiques, et ses
glossateurs_, 1857.

[6]Heinrich Reimann: _Musikalische Rückblicke_.

[7]English translation by Ignatz Moscheles, 1841.

[8]Paul Bekker: _Beethoven_, translated by M. M. Bozman, 1925.

[9]Vincent d’Indy: _Beethoven, a Critical Biography_, 1911; translated
by Dr. Theodore Baker, 1913.

[10]J. G. Prod’homme _Les Symphonies de Beethoven_, 1906.

[11]A. W. Thayer: “_Ludwig van Beethoven’s Leben_,” 1866-79; revision in
English by H. E. Krehbiel.

[12]William Foster Apthorp.

[13]Adolf Boschot: _La jeunesse d’un romantique_, 1906.

[14]Julien Tiersot: _Hector Berlioz et la société de son temps_, 1904.

[15]Ernest Legouvé: _Soixante Ans de Souvenirs_, 1886.

[16]The year 1834 has been generally accepted as the year of Borodin’s
birth. M. D. Calvocoressi (in the _London Musical Times_, June,
1934) reported that Serge Dianin had examined the church registers
in Leningrad, and other documents which proved the date to have been
October 31 (November 12), 1833, not 1834. “Borodin himself knew this
quite well until October 31, 1873, when he wrote to his wife: ‘Today
is my fortieth birthday.’ But on that very day an old servant of his
mother, Catherine Beltzman by name, assured him that he was
thirty-nine years old, not forty. Borodin was delighted, and never
troubled to verify the information.”—EDITOR.

[17]Walter Niemann: _Brahms_, 1920; translated by C. A. Phillips, 1929.

[18]Richard Specht: _Johannes Brahms_, translated by Eric Blom, 1930.

[19]See Kalbeck’s _Brahms_, Vol. III, Part II, pp. 384-85, Berlin, 1912.

[20]Heinrich Reimann: _Johannes Brahms_, 1930.

[21]Dr. Hermann Dieters: _Johannes Brahms_, a biographical sketch,
translated by Rosa Newmarch, 1888.

[22]_Programme Book_ of the Symphony Concert of the Royal Orchestra of
Dresden, December 13, 1907.

[23]Louis Laloy: _Claude Debussy_, 1909.

[24]_Lettres de Claude Debussy à son éditeur_; published by Jacques
Durand, 1927.

[25]Robert J. Buckley: _Sir Edward Elgar_, 1904.

[26]D. G. Mason: _Contemporary Composers_, 1918.

[27]Ernest Newman: _Elgar_, 1906.

[28]Vincent d’Indy: _César Franck_, 1906; translated by Rosa Newmarch,
1929.

[29]John F. Runciman: _Old Scores and New Readings_, 1899.

[30]Romain Rolland: _Handel_, 1910; translated by A. E. Hull, 1916.

[31]Victor Schoelcher: _The Life of Handel_, 1857.

[32]C. F. Pohl: _Josef Haydn_, 1875, 1882.

[33]Michel Brenet (Marie Bobillier): _Haydn_, 1909; English translation,
1926.

[34]This year was given by the composer. The Catalogue of the Paris
Conservatory gives 1851, the year also given by Adolphe Jullien.—P.
H.

[35]_Le Guide musical_, May, 1904.

[36]Lina Ramann: _Franz Liszt als Künstler und Mensch_, 1880; translated
by E. Cowdrey, 1882.

[37]Ernest Newman: “Faust in Music,” in _Musical Studies_.

[38]Wilhelm Adolf Lampadius: _Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy_, 1848;
translated by W. L. Gage, 1866.

[39]Michael Kelly: _Reminiscences_, 1826; written by Theodore Hook, from
material furnished by Kelly.

[40]Lorenzo da Ponte: _Memoirs_, translated by Elizabeth Abbott, 1929.

[41]Felix Borowski, Chicago Orchestra Programme.

[42]

“_Grammarian, painter, augur, rhetorician,
Rope-dancer, conjuror, fiddler, and physician,
All trades his own, your hungry Greekling counts;
And bid him mount the sky—the sky he mounts!_”
Gifford’s Translation.

Compare Dr. Johnson’s lines:

_All sciences the hungry Monsieur knows,
And bid him go to hell—to hell he goes!_

[43]See _Johann Herbeck_, by L. Herbeck, Vienna, 1885, page 165.

[44]The _Unfinished_ symphony has the same orchestration.—EDITOR.

[45]Paul Rosenfeld: _Musical Portraits_, 1920.

[46]Philip H. Goepp.

[47]_Sibelius_, by Cecil Gray, London, 1931.

[48]Lawrence Gilman, Philadelphia Orchestra Programme Notes.

[49]Quotations from the novel itself are here taken from the translation
into English by Thos. Shelton (1612-20.)

[50]M. Montagu-Nathan: _Contemporary Russian Composers_, 1917.

[51]John F. Runciman: _Richard Wagner, Composer of Operas_, 1913.

[52]William J. Henderson: _Richard Wagner, His Life and His Works_,
1901.

INDEX

A
_Afternoon of a Faun_ (Debussy), 119-22.
_Also Sprach Zarathustra_ (Strauss), 313, 316-19, 330.
Altschuler, Modeste, 288-89.
_Amor Brujo, El_ (_Love, the Sorcerer_), de Falla, 140-42.
Apthorp, William F., 52, 77, 78-79, 171, 178, 281, 311, 350, 380.

B
Bach, Johann Sebastian, 2-6, 151.
The Brandenburg Concertos, 2-3.
The Concertos for Pianoforte, 4-5.
The Orchestral Suites, 5-6.
Balakirev, M., 207.
Baudelaire, P. C., 122.
Beaumarchais, P. A., 217.
Beethoven, Ludwig van, 7-55, 102, 112-13, 154.
Symphony No. 1, 7-10.
Symphony No. 2, 10-13.
Symphony No. 3, 13-17.
Symphony No. 4, 18-22.
Symphony No. 5, 19-20, 22-26.
Symphony No. 6, 26-29.
Symphony No. 7, 29-33, 36.
Symphony No. 8, 34-37, 109.
Symphony No. 9, 38-44.
Overture to _Leonore No. 3_, 44-47.
Overture to _Egmont_, 47-49.
Overture to _Coriolanus_, 49-57.
Piano Concerto No. 4, 51-52.
Piano Concerto No. 5, 52-54.
Violin Concerto, 54-55.
_Fidelio_, 19, 45.
_Wellington’s Victory_, 30, 32.
Bekker, Paul, 15.
Berlioz, Hector, 8, 12-13, 20-22, 23-26, 56-65, 175, 254, 390.
_Symphonie Fantastique_, 56, 57-64, 92.
Overture, _The Roman Carnival_, 64-65.
Blake, William, 263.
Bloch, Ernest (_Schelomo_), 66-69.
Blom, Eric, 71.
Boito, Arrigo, 175.
_Bolero_ (Ravel), 170, 239-40.
Borodin, Alexander (Symphony No. 2), 70-74.
Borowski, Felix, 136.
Boschot, Adolphe, 60.
Boucher, Maurice, 170.
Brahms, Johannes, 75-99, 100, 113.
Symphony No. 1, 77-80.
Symphony No. 2, 80-83.
Symphony No. 3, 83-85.
Symphony No. 4, 86-88.
Haydn Variations, 88-90.
Tragic overture, 90-91.
Academic overture, 91-94.
Piano Concerto No. 1, 94-95.
Piano Concerto No. 2, 95-97.
Violin Concerto, 97-99.
Brenet, Michel (Marie Bobillier), 9, 159.
Bruckner, Anton, 100-13.
Symphony No. 7, 102-06.
Symphony No. 8, 106-11.
Bruneau, Alfred, 123.
Buckley, R. J., 137.
Bülow, Hans von, 81, 182, 254, 311, 356.
Burke, Harry R., 141.

C
Calvocoressi, M. D., 167.
Canudo, Ricciotto, 38-39.
_Caprice on Spanish Themes_ (Rimsky-Korsakov), 250-52.
Carpenter, J. A. (_Adventures in a Perambulator_), 114-17.
Cervantes, Miguel de, 320-27.
Cherubini, Luigi, 63.
_Clouds_ (Debussy), 122-24.
Coates, Albert, 390.
Cocteau, Jean, 27.

D
_Daphnis et Chloe_, Suite No. 2 (Ravel), 237-38.
David, Ferdinand, 203.
_Death and Transfiguration_ (Strauss), 310-13.
Debussy, Claude, 34, 118-29.
_Afternoon of a Faun_, 119-22.
_Nocturnes_, 122-24.
_La Mer_, 124-26.
_Iberia_, 127-29.
De Quincey, Thomas, 22, 35, 242.
Diaghilev, Serge de, 143, 237, 331-33.
Dieters, Dr. Hermann, 91.
_Don Juan_ (Strauss), 308-10, 313.
_Don Quixote_ (Strauss), 313, 320-27, 330.
Dvořák, Anton, 130-34.
Symphony No. 5 (_From the New World_), 130-34.
Dwight, John S., 1, 79-80.

E
Elgar, Edward (_Enigma_ Variations), 135-39.
_Euryanthe_ overture (Weber), 385-88.
Evans, Edwin, 337.

F
Falla, Manuel de, 140-44.
_El Amor Brujo_ (_Love the Sorcerer_), 140-42.
_El Sombrero de Tres Picos_ (_The Three-cornered Hat_),
142-44.
_Faust_ (Goethe), 25.
_Faust_ symphony (Liszt), 175-80.
_Festivals_ (Debussy), 122-24.
_Fidelio_ (Beethoven), 19, 45.
_Figaro_ overture (Mozart), 217-19.
_Fingal’s Cave_ (_Hebrides_) overture (Mendelssohn), 201-03.
_Finlandia_ (Sibelius), 302-04.
_Fire-Bird_ (Stravinsky), 331-33.
_Fliegende Holländer_ overture (Wagner), 366-67.
Fokine, Michel, 237.
Franck, César (Symphony), 102, 145-49, 167.
_Freischütz, Der_, overture (Weber), 382-85.

G
Gatti, Guido M., 68.
Gilman, Lawrence, 301-02.
Gluck, C. W. von, 150, 214, 310.
Goepp, Philip H., 294.
Goethe, J. W. von, 25, 48, 175-80, 309.
Goldmark, Carl, 96.
Gray, Cecil, 136, 295, 299.
Grove, Sir George, 197, 264.

H
Habeneck, F. A., 65.
Handel, G. F. (Twelve Concerti Grossi), 150-53.
Hanslick, Edouard, 84-5, 100-01, 108, 113, 183, 359-60.
Haydn, F. J., 154-60.
Symphony No. 88, 158-60.
Symphony No. 94, 157-58.
Symphony No. 104, 155-57.
Hazlitt, William, 210.
_Hebrides_ (_Fingal’s Cave_) overture (Mendelssohn), 201-03.
_Heldenleben, Ein_ (Strauss), 13, 313, 327-30.
Henderson, W. J., 298, 378.
Herodotus, 227.
Hindemith, Paul (_Konzertmusik_), 161-63.
Hoffmann, E. T. A., 211.
Honegger, Arthur (_Pacific 231_), 164-65.
Hugo, Victor, 181, 287.
Huneker, James, 146.

I
_Iberia_ (Debussy), 127-29.
_Images_ (Debussy), 127-29.
_Indian Suite_ (MacDowell), 186-88.
d’Indy, Vincent, 17, 27-8, 34, 102, 147-49, 166-72.
Symphony No. 2, 166-69.
_Istar_ variations, 170-72.

J
Jean-Aubry, G., 141.
Joachim, J., 84, 94, 97.
“_Jupiter_” symphony (Mozart), 277.

K
Kalbeck, Max, 85, 93, 98.
Kelly, Michael, 215-16, 218-19.
Koechlin, Charles, 120.
Krehbiel, Henry E., 259-60, 314.
Kretzschmar, A. F. H., 151.

L
Laforgue, Jules, 209, 234.
Lalo, Édouard, 149.
Laloy, Louis, 121.
Lamartine, A. M. L., 181.
Landowska, Wanda, 1.
Lampadius, W. A., 197.
Legouvé, Ernest, 64.
Lenau, Nicolaus, 308-10.
Liszt, Franz, 173-83, 207, 254, 258, 271, 368-69, 370.
_Faust_ symphony, 175-80.
_Les Préludes_, symphonic poem, 181-82.
Piano Concerto No. 1, 182-83.
Loeffler, C. M. (_A Pagan Poem_), 184-85.
_Lohengrin_ prelude (Wagner), 368-69.
_London Symphony_ (Vaughan Williams), 389-93.
_Love the Sorcerer_ (_El Amor Brujo_) (de Falla), 140-42.

M
MacDowell, Edward (_Indian Suite_), 186-88.
Machabey, A., 162.
_Magic Flute, The_, overture (Mozart), 219-21.
Mahler, Gustav, 189-94.
The Symphonies, 190-92.
Symphony No. 5, 192-94.
_Ma Mère l’Oye_ (_Mother Goose_) suite (Ravel), 234-36.
Mason, D. G., 139.
May, Florence, 86, 97-98.
_Meistersinger, Die_, prelude (Wagner), 113, 371-73.
Mendelssohn, Felix, 80, 195-205, 268, 285, 378.
“_Italian_” symphony, 195-99.
Incidental music, _Midsummer Night’s Dream_, 199-201.
_Hebrides_ overture, 201-03.
Violin concerto, 203-05.
_Mer, La_ (Debussy), 124-26.
Montagu-Nathan, 332, 334.
_Mother Goose_ (_Ma Mère l’Oye_) Suite (Ravel), 234-36.
Moussorgsky, Modeste, 118, 206-08.
_Night on Bald Mountain_, 206-08.
Mozart, W. A., 154, 209-24, 263.
Symphonies (E flat, G minor, C major—“_Jupiter_”), 211-17.
Overture to _Figaro_, 217-19.
Overture to _The Magic Flute_, 219-21.
Violin concertos, 221-22.

N
Napoleon Bonaparte, 14.
Newman, Ernest, 139, 179, 243, 346.
Newmarch, Rosa, 304, 306-07, 347.
Niemann, Walter, 75, 78, 80.
Nietzsche, Friedrich, 316-19.
_Night on Bald Mountain_ (Moussorgsky), 206-08.
Nijinsky, Vaslav, 237, 333, 336.
Nikisch, Arthur, 47.
Nocturnes (Debussy), 122-24.

O
_Oberon_ overture (Weber), 381-82.
_Oiseau de Feu, L’_ (Stravinsky), 331-33.

P
_Pagan Poem_ (Loeffler), 184-85.
Parry, C. H. H., 4.
_Parsifal_ (Wagner), 298, 376-79.
Péladan, Joséphin, 76.
_Pelléas et Mélisande_ (Debussy), 119.
_Petrouchka_ (Stravinsky), 333-35.
_Pines of Rome_ (Respighi), 241-43.
Plotinus, 124.
Poe, Edgar Allan, 129.
_Poème de l’Extase, Le_ (Scriabin), 287-91.
Pohl, C. F., 88, 158.
Ponte, Lorenzo da, 218.
_Preludes, The_ (Liszt), 181-82.
Prod’homme, J. G., 33.
Prokofieff, Serge, 225-28.
Scythian suite, 225-27.
_Classical_ symphony, 227-28.

R
Rachmaninoff, Sergei, 229-33.
Symphony No. 2, 229-31.
Piano Concerto No. 2, 232-33.
_Radiant Night_ (_Verklärte Nacht_) (Schoenberg), 259-60.
Raff, J. J., 230.
Ramann, Lina, 175, 178, 181.
Ravel, Maurice, 234-40.
_Ma Mère l’Oye_, Suite, 234-36.
_Daphnis et Chloe_, Suite No. 2, 237-38.
_Bolero_, 170, 239-40.
Reichert, Johannes, 106.
Reimann, Heinrich, 9, 87, 91.
Respighi, Otterino (_Pines of Rome_), 241-43.
Richter, Hans, 84, 113, 136.
_Rienzi_, overture (Wagner), 365-66.
Ries, Ferdinand, 15.
Rimsky-Korsakov, N., 206, 244-52.
_Scheherazade_ suite, 244-50.
_Caprice on Spanish Themes_, 250-52.
_Rite of Spring, The_ (Stravinsky), 336-38.
Ritter, William, 133.
Rolland, Romain, 56, 151, 152-53, 328.
_Romeo and Juliet_ overture-fantasia (Tchaikovsky), 354-55.
Rosenfeld, Paul, 294, 295.
Rossini, Giacomo, 34, 41.
Rubinstein, Nicholas, 356-58.
Runciman, J. F., 150.

S
_Sacre du Printemps, Le_ (Stravinsky), 336-38.
Saint-Saëns, C., 149, 223-24.
Symphony No. 3, 253-58.
Salomon, J., 154-55.
_Scheherazade_ suite (Rimsky-Korsakov), 244-50.
Schindler, Anton, 14, 42.
Schoelcher, Victor, 152.
Schoenberg, Arnold (_Verklärte Nacht_), 259-60.
Schubert, Franz, 132, 261-69.
Symphony No. 8 (“_Unfinished_”), 264-67.
Symphony No. 7, 267-69.
Schumann, Clara, 78, 81, 88, 95, 272, 273, 274, 279, 282, 286.
Schumann, Robert, 78, 94, 268, 270-87.
Symphony No. 1, 272-75.
Symphony No. 2, 275-78.
Symphony No. 3, 278-81.
Symphony No. 4, 282-85.
Piano Concerto, 285-87.
Schweitzer, Dr. Albert, 5.
Scriabin, Alexander (_Le Poème de l’Extase_), 287-91.
Scythian suite (Prokofieff), 225-27.
Shakespeare, William, 22, 24, 49, 60, 199, 354.
Sibelius, Jean, 292-307.
Symphony No. 1, 292-95.
Symphony No. 2, 295-97.
Symphony No. 4, 298-99.
Symphony No. 5, 300-01.
Symphony No. 7, 301-03.
_Finlandia_, 302-04.
_Swan of Tuonela_, 305-07.
_Siegfried Idyl_ (Wagner), 373-75.
Sierra, Martinez, 140.
Siloti, Alexander, 353.
_Sirens_ (Debussy), 122-24.
_Sombrero de Tres Picos, El_ (_The Three-cornered Hat_), (de
Falla), 142-44.
Specht, Richard, 79, 82-83, 97.
Stassov, Vladimir, 73, 208, 246, 344.
Steinitzer, Max, 321.
Strangways, Fox, 299.
Strauss, Richard, 190-91, 308-30.
_Don Juan_, 308-10, 313, 330.
_Tod und Verklärung_, 310-13, 330.
_Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks_, 313-15, 330.
_Also Sprach Zarathustra_, 313, 316-19, 330.
_Don Quixote_, 313, 320-27, 330.
_Ein Heldenleben_, 13, 313, 327-30.
Stravinsky, Igor, 331-38.
_L’Oiseau de Feu_, 331-33.
_Petrouchka_, 333-35.
_Sacre du Printemps_, Le, 336-38.
_Swan of Tuonela_ (Sibelius), 305-07.

T
_Tannhäuser_ Overture (Wagner), 85 137, 367-68.
Taylor, Deems (_Through the Looking Glass_ suite), 339-42.
Tchaikovsky, Peter, 71, 250, 343-62.
Symphony No. 4, 344-46.
Symphony No. 5, 346-50.
Symphony No. 6, 92, 147, 350-54.
_Romeo and Juliet_ overture-fantasia, 354-55.
Concerto for Piano No. 1, 356-59.
Concerto for Violin, 359-62.
Thayer, A. W., 14, 37, 42.
Thomas, Theodore, 368.
_Three-cornered Hat, The_ (_El Sombrero de Tres Picos_) (de
Falla), 142-44.
_Through the Looking Glass_ suite (Taylor), 339-42.
_Thus Spake Zarathustra_ (Strauss), 313, 316-19, 330.
Tiersot, Julien, 63.
_Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks_ (Strauss), 313-15, 330.
_Tod und Verklärung_ (Strauss), 310-13.
_Tristan und Isolde_ prelude and _Liebestod_ (Wagner), 370-71.
Turina, Joaquin, 143.

U
Ulibichev, Alexander von, 9.

V
Vechten, Carl Van, 337.
_Verklärte Nacht_ (_Radiant Night_) (Schoenberg), 259-60.
Virgil, 184.

W
Wagner, Richard, 85, 100, 103, 110, 113, 137, 173, 298, 363-79.
_Rienzi_ overture, 365-66.
_Fliegende Holländer_ overture, 366-67.
_Tannhäuser_ overture, 85, 137, 367-68.
_Lohengrin_ prelude, 368-69.
_Tristan und Isolde_ prelude and _Liebestod_, 370-71.
_Die Meistersinger_ prelude, 113, 371-73.
_A Siegfried Idyl_, 373-75.
_Ride of the Valkyries_, 375-76.
_Parsifal_ prelude, 376-79.
_Parsifal_, Good Friday Spell, 379.
Weber, Carl Maria von, 380-88.
_Oberon_ overture, 381-82.
_Der Freischütz_ overture, 382-85.
_Euryanthe_ overture, 385-88.
Weingartner, Felix, 42, 56, 81, 272, 282.
Weissmann, Adolf, 162.
_Wellington’s Victory_ (Beethoven), 30, 32.
Whitman, Walt, 262-63.
Williams, Ralph Vaughan (_A London Symphony_), 389-93.
Wolf, Hugo, 112.
Wolff, Werner, 111.
Wüllner, Franz, 47, 84, 315.

Transcriber’s Notes

—Retained copyright information from the printed edition: this eBook is
public-domain in the country of publication.

—Silently corrected a few palpable typos.

—In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by
_underscores_.