Chapter XIII: Part 13

It is perhaps singularly fitting that Johann Strauss should have died in 1899. A century was coming to an end, and with it an entire epoch. This is what one court official meant when he said that “Emperor Francis Joseph reigned until the death of Johann Strauss.” History, with its cold precision, may accurately record that the reign of Francis Joseph actually terminated in 1916. But its heyday had passed with the 19th century. The spirit of old Vienna, imperial Vienna of the Hapsburgs, the Vienna that had been inspiration for song and story, died with Johann Strauss. After 1900, Vienna was only a shadow of its former self, and was made prostrate by World War I.

If the epoch of “old Vienna” died with Johann Strauss, it was also born with him. After 1825, the social and intellectual climate in the imperial city changed perceptibly. The people, always gay, now gave themselves up to frivolity. For this, political conditions had been responsible. The autocratic rule of Francis I brought on tyranny, repression, and an army of spies and informers. As a result, the Viennese went in for diversions that were safe from a political point of view: flirtation, gossip, dancing. They were partial to light musical plays and novels. Thus, an attitude born out of expediency, became, with the passing of time, an inextricable part of everyday life in Vienna.

Of the many light-hearted pleasures in which the Viennese indulged none was dearer to them than dancing. It has been recorded that one out of every four in Vienna danced regularly. They danced the polka, and the quadrille; but most of all they danced the waltz.

Johann Strauss II was the genius of the Viennese waltz. More than anybody before him or since he lifted the popular dance to such artistic importance that his greatest waltzes are often performed at symphony concerts by the world’s greatest orchestras under the foremost conductors. Inexhaustible was his invention; richly inventive, his harmonic writing; subtle and varied his gift at orchestration; fresh and personal his lyricism; aristocratic his structure. To the noted 20th century German critic, Paul Bekker, the Strauss waltz contained “more melodies than a symphony of Beethoven, and the aggregate of Straussian melodies is surely greater than the aggregate of Beethoven’s.”

Actually the waltz form used by Strauss is basically that of Lanner and of Strauss’ own father. A slow symphonic introduction opens the waltz. This is followed by a series of waltz melodies (usually five in number). A symphonic coda serves both as a kind of summation and as a conclusion. But here the similarity with the past ends. This form received from the younger Strauss new dimension, new amplification. His introductions are sometimes like tone poems. The waltz melodies are incomparably rich in thought and feeling, varied in mood and style. A new concept of thematic developments enters waltz writing with Strauss. And his codas, as his introductions, are symphonic creations built with consummate skill from previously stated ideas, or fragments of these ideas. No wonder, then, that the waltzes of Johann Strauss have been described as “symphonies for dancing.”

The following are the most popular of the Johann Strauss waltzes:

_Acceleration_ (_Accelerationen_), op. 234, as the title indicates, derives its effect from the gradual acceleration in tempo in the main waltz melody. Strauss had promised to write a waltz for a ball at the Sofiensaal but failed to deliver his manuscript even at the zero hour. Reminded of his promise, he sat down at a restaurant table on the night of the ball and hurriedly wrote off the complete _Acceleration Waltz_ on the back of a menu card, and soon thereafter conducted the première performance.

_Artist’s Life_ (_Kuenstlerleben_), op. 316, opens in a tender mood. A transition is provided by an alternation of soft and loud passages, after which the first waltz melody erupts zestfully as a tonal expression of the lighthearted gaiety of an artist’s life. A similar mood is projected by the other waltz melodies.

_The Blue Danube_ (_An der schoenen blauen Donau_), op. 314, is perhaps the most famous waltz ever written, and one of the greatest. It is now a familiar tale how Brahms, while autographing a fan of Strauss’ wife, scribbled a few bars of this waltz and wrote underneath, “alas, not by Brahms.” Strauss wrote _The Blue Danube_ at the request of John Herbeck, conductor of the Vienna Men’s Singing Society; thus the original version of the waltz is for chorus and orchestra, the text being a poem by Karl Beck in praise of Vienna and the Danube. Strauss wrote this waltz in 1867, and it was introduced on February 15 of the same year at the Dianasaal by Strauss’ orchestra, supplemented by Herbeck’s singing society. The audience was so enthusiastic that it stood on the seats and thundered for numerous repetitions. In the Spring of 1867, Strauss introduced his waltz to Paris at the International Exposition where it was a sensation. A tremendous ovation also greeted it when Strauss performed it for the first time in London, at Covent Garden in 1869. When Johann Strauss made his American debut, in Boston in 1872, he conducted _The Blue Danube_ with an orchestra numbering a thousand instruments and a chorus of a thousand voices! Copies of the music were soon in demand in far-off cities of Asia and Australia. The publisher, Spina, was so deluged by orders he had to have a hundred new copper plates made from which to print over a million copies.

It is not difficult to see why this waltz is so popular. It is an eloquent voice of the “charm, elegance, vivacity, and sophistication” of 19th century Vienna—so much so that it is second only to Haydn’s Austrian National Anthem as the musical symbol of Austria.

_Emperor Waltz_ (_Kaiserwalz_), op. 437, was written in 1888 to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the reign of Franz Joseph I. This is one of Strauss’ most beautiful waltzes. A slow introduction spanning seventy-four bars that has delicacy and grace, and is of a stately march-like character, is Viennese to its very marrow. A suggestion of the main waltz tune then appears quickly but is just as quickly dismissed by a loud return of the main introductory subject. Trombones lead to a brief silence. After some preparation, a waltz melody of rare majesty finally unfolds in the strings. If this wonderful waltz melody can be said to represent the Emperor himself then the delightful waltz tunes that follow—some of almost peasant character—can be said to speak for the joy of the Austrian people in honoring their beloved monarch. An elaborate coda then comes as the crown to the whole composition.

_Morning Journals_ (_Morgenblaetter_), op. 279, was written for a Viennese press club, the Concordia. Offenbach had previously written for that club a set of waltzes entitled “_Evening Journals_.” Strauss decided to name his music _Morning Journals_. The Offenbach composition is today remembered only because it provided the stimulus for Strauss’ title. But Strauss’ music remains—the four waltzes in his freshest and most infectious lyric vein, and its introduction highlighted by a melody of folk song simplicity.

_Roses from the South_ (_Rosen aus dem Sueden_), op. 388, is a potpourri of the best waltz tunes (each a delight) from one of the composer’s lesser operettas, _Spitzentuch der Koenigen_ (_The Queen’s Lace Handkerchief_). The “south” in the title refers to Spain, the background of the operetta, but there is nothing Spanish to this unmistakably Viennese music.

_Tales from the Vienna Woods_ (_G’schichten aus dem Wiener Wald_), op. 325—performed for the first time by the Strauss orchestra at the _Neue Welt_ café in 1868—is a bucolic picture of Nature’s beauty in the forests skirting Vienna. The beauty of Nature is suggested in the stately introduction with its open fifths and its serene melody for cello followed by a flute cadenza. All the loveliness of the Vienna woods is then represented by a waltz melody (originally scored for zither, but now most often presented by strings), a loveliness that is carried on with incomparable grace and charm by the ensuing waltz tunes.

_Vienna Blood_ (_Wiener Blut_), op. 354, like so many other Strauss waltzes, is a hymn of praise to Strauss’ native cities; but where other waltzes are light and carefree, this one is more often moody, dreamy, and at times sensual. After the introduction come four waltz melodies, the first full of fire and the last one touched with sentimentality. The second and third waltz tunes are interesting for their rhythmic vitality and marked syncopations.

_Voices of Spring_ (_Fruehlingstimmen_), op. 410—dedicated to the renowned Viennese pianist, Albert Gruenfeld—is (like the _Tales from the Vienna Woods_) an exuberant picture of the vernal season, the joy and thrill that the rebirth of Nature always provides to the Viennese.

_Wine, Woman and Song_ (_Wein, Weib und Gesang_), op. 333, opens with an eloquent mood picture that is virtually an independent composition, even though it offers suggestions of later melodies. This is a spacious ninety-one bar introduction that serves as an eloquent peroration to the four waltz melodies that follow—each graceful, vivacious, and at times tender and contemplative. Richard Wagner, upon hearing Anton Seidl conduct this music, was so moved by it that at one point he seized the baton from Seidl’s hand and conducted the rest of the piece himself.

Strauss wrote other dance music besides waltzes. He was equally successful in bringing his wonderful melodic invention, fine rhythmic sense, and beautiful instrumentation to the Polka, the native Bohemian dance in duple quick time and in a lively mood. The best of the Strauss polkas are: _Annen-Polka_, op. 117; _Electrophor Polka_, op. 297 dedicated to the students of a Vienna technical school, its effect derived from its breathless tempo and forceful dynamics; _Explosions Polka_, op. 43, written when Strauss was only twenty-two and characterized by sudden brief crescendos; _Pizzicato Polka_, written in collaboration with the composer’s brother Josef, and, as the name indicates, an exercise in plucked strings; and the capricious _Tritsch-Tratsch_ (or _Chit-Chat_) _Polka_, op. 214.

Of Strauss’ other instrumental compositions, the best known is a lively excursion in velocity called _Perpetual Motion_, op. 257, which the composer himself described as a “musical jest.”

Beyond being Vienna’s waltz king, Johann Strauss II was also one of its greatest composers of operettas. Indeed, if a vote were to be cast for the greatest favorite among all Vienna operettas the chances are the choice would fall on Strauss’ _Die Fledermaus_ (_The Bat_), first produced in Vienna on April 5, 1874, book by Carl Haffner and Richard Genée based on a French play by Meilhac and Halévy. This work is not only a classic of the light theater, but even a staple in the repertory of the world’s major opera houses. It is a piece of dramatic intrigue filled with clever, bright and at times risqué humor, as well as irony and gaiety. The plot, in line with operetta tradition, involves a love intrigue: between Rosalinda, wife of Baron von Eisenstein, and Alfred. The Baron is sought by the police for some slight indiscretion, and when they come to the Baron’s home and find Alfred there, they mistake him for the Baron and arrest him. Upon discovering he is supposed to be in jail, the Baron decides to take full advantage of his liberty by attending a masked ball at Prince Orlovsky’s palace and making advances there to the lovely women. But one of the masked women with whom he flirts is his own wife. Eventually, the identity of both is uncovered, to the embarrassment of the Baron, and this merry escapade ends when the Baron is compelled to spend his time in jail.

The overture is a classic, recreating the effervescent mood that prevails throughout the operetta. It is made up of some of the principal melodies of the opera: Rosalinda’s lament, “_So muss allein ich bleiben_” first heard in the woodwind; the chorus, “_O je, o je, wie ruhrt mich dies_” in the strings; and most important of all, the main waltz of the operetta and the climax of the second act, also in the strings.

Other delightful episodes frequently presented in instrumental versions include the lovely drinking song, “_Trinke, Liebchen, trinke schnell_”; the laughing song of the maid, Adele, “_Mein Herr Marquis_”; the blood-warming czardas of the “Hungarian countess” who is actually Rosalinda in disguise, “_Klaenge der Heimat_”; the stirring hymn to champagne, “_Die Majistaet wird anerkannt_”; and the buoyant waltz, “_Du und du_.”

_The Gypsy Baron_ (_Die Ziguenerbaron_) is almost as popular as _Die Fledermaus_. This is an operetta with libretto by Ignaz Schnitzer, introduced in Vienna on October 24, 1885. Sandór Barinkay returns to his ancestral home after having left it as a child. He finds it swarming with gypsies who have made it their home, and he falls in love with one of them, Saffi.

The overture is made up of material from the concerted finales, beginning with the entrance of the gypsies in the first finale; continuing with Saffi’s celebrated gypsy air, “_So elend und treu_”; and culminating with the celebrated waltz music of the second act, the _Schatz_, or _Treasure_, waltzes.

Other familiar excerpts include Sandór’s exuberant aria with chorus from the first act “_Ja, das alles auf Ehr_,” probably the most celebrated vocal excerpt from the entire operetta; and the _Entry March_ (_Einzugmarsch_) from the third act—for chorus and orchestra in the operetta, but often given by salon ensembles in an orchestral version.

Josef Strauss

Josef Strauss, like Eduard, is a younger brother of Johann Strauss II, and son of Johann Strauss I. He was born in Vienna on August 22, 1827. He was an extremely talented young man not only in music but even as architect and inventor. Of more serious and sober disposition than either of his two brothers, he long regarded café-house music condescendingly, his musical preference being for the classics. His famous brother, Johann Strauss II, needing someone to help him direct his orchestra, finally prevailed on Josef to turn to café-house music. Josef made his debut as café-house conductor and composer simultaneously on July 23, 1853, his first waltz being _Die Ersten_. After that he often substituted for brother Johann in directing the latter’s orchestra in Vienna and on extended tours of Europe and Russia. Josef died in Vienna on July 21, 1870.

Josef Strauss wrote almost three hundred dance compositions. Though certainly less inspired than his brother, Johann, he was also far more important than Eduard. Josef’s best waltzes have much of the lyrical invention, and the harmonic and instrumental invention of those by Johann Strauss II. Perhaps his greatest waltz is the _Dorfschwalben aus Oesterreich_ (_Swallows from Austria_), op. 164, a nature portrait often interrupted by the chirping of birds. Here Josef’s outpouring of the most sensitive lyricism and delicate moods is hardly less wondrous than that of Johann Strauss II. H. E. Jacob went so far as to say that “since Schubert’s death there has been no such melody. It is in the realm of the Impromptus and Moments Musicaux. It breathes the sweet blue from which the swallows come.”

Another Josef Strauss classic in three-quarter time is _Sphaerenklaenge_ (_Music of the Spheres_), op. 285, equally remarkable for its spontaneous flow of unforgettable waltz tunes. Among Strauss’ other delightful waltzes are the _Aquarellen_, op. 258; _Delirien_, op. 212; _Dynamiden_, op. 173; _Marienklaenge_, op. 214. A theme from _Dynamiden_ waltzes was used by Richard Strauss in his famous opera _Der Rosenkavalier_.

In collaboration with his brother, Johann, Josef wrote the famous _Pizzicato Polka_ and several other pieces including the _Monstrequadrille_ and _Vaterlandischer March_. With Johann and Eduard he wrote the _Schuetzenquadrille_ and the _Trifolienwalzer_.

Sir Arthur Sullivan

Sir Arthur Seymour Sullivan—musical half of the comic-opera team of Gilbert and Sullivan—was born in London, England, on May 13, 1842. The son of a bandmaster, Sullivan was appointed to the Chapel Royal School in 1854. One year after that his first published composition appeared, an anthem. In 1856 he was the first recipient of the recently instituted Mendelssohn Award which entitled him to attend the Royal Academy of Music where he studied under Sterndale Bennett and Goss. From 1858 to 1861 he attended the Leipzig Conservatory. After returning to London in 1862, he achieved recognition as a serious composer with several ambitious compositions including the _Irish Symphony_, a cello concerto, a cantata, and an oratorio. Meanwhile, in 1866, he had become professor of composition at the Royal Academy, and in 1867 he completed his first score in a light style, the comic opera _Cox and Box_, libretto by F. C. Burnand, which enjoyed a successful engagement in London.

In 1871, a singer introduced Sullivan to W. S. Gilbert, a one-time attorney who had attracted some interest in London as the writer of burlesques. An enterprising impresario, John Hollingshead of the Gaiety Theater, then was responsible for getting Gilbert and Sullivan to work on their first operetta. This was _Thespis_, produced in London in 1871, and a failure. It was several years before librettist and composer worked together again. When they did it was for a new impresario, Richard D’Oyly Carte, for whom they wrote a one-act comic opera, _Trial by Jury_, a curtain raiser to a French operetta which Carte was producing in London on March 25, 1875. _Trial by Jury_—a stinging satire on court trials revolving around a breach of promise suit—inaugurates the epoch of Gilbert and Sullivan. D’Oyly Carte now commissioned Gilbert and Sullivan to create a new full length comic opera for a company he had recently formed. The new light opera company made a successful bow with _The Sorcerer_, on November 17, 1877. _Pinafore_, a year later on May 25, 1878, made Gilbert and Sullivan a vogue and a passion both in London and in New York. In 1879 Gilbert and Sullivan came to the United States where on December 31 they introduced a new comic opera, _The Pirates of Penzance_, that took the country by storm. Upon returning to London, Gilbert and Sullivan opened a new theater built for them by D’Oyly Carte—the Savoy—with _Patience_, a tumultuous success on April 25, 1881. After that came _Iolanthe_ (1882), _Princess Ida_ (1884), _The Mikado_ (1885), the _Yeomen of the Guard_ (1888) and _The Gondoliers_ (1889).

Gilbert and Sullivan came to the parting of the ways in 1890, the final rift precipitated by a silly argument over the cost of a carpet for the Savoy Theater. But the differences between them had long been deep rooted. An attempt to revive the partnership was made in 1893 with _Utopia Limited_, and again with _The Grand Duke_ in 1896. Both comic operas were failures.

After 1893, Sullivan wrote a grand opera, _Ivanhoe_, and several operetta scores to librettists other than Sullivan. None of these were successful. During the last years of his life he suffered from deterioration of his health, and was almost always in acute pain. He died in London on November 22, 1900. Gilbert died eleven years after that.

Of Sullivan’s other achievements in the field of music mention must be made of his importance as a conductor of the concerts of the London Philharmonic from 1885 to 1887, and of the Leeds Festival from 1880 to 1898. Between 1876 and 1881 he was principal of, and professor of composition at, the National Training School for Music. In recognition of his high estate in English music, he was the recipient of many honors. In 1878 he was made Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, and in 1883 he was knighted by Queen Victoria.

It is irony fitting for a Gilbert and Sullivan comic opera that the music on which Sullivan lavished his most fastidious attention and of which he was most proud has been completely forgotten (except for one or two minor exceptions). But the music upon which he looked with such condescension and self apology is that which has made him an immortal—in the theater if not in the concert world. For where Sullivan was heavy-handed, pretentious, and often stilted in his oratorios, serious operas, and orchestral compositions, he was consistently vital, fresh, personal, and vivacious in his lighter music. In setting Gilbert’s lyrics to music, Sullivan was always capable of finding the musical _mot juste_ to catch every nuance of Gilbert’s wit and satire. So neatly, even inevitably, does the music fit the words that it is often difficult to think of one without the other. Like Gilbert, Sullivan was a master of parody and satire; he liked particularly to mock at the pretensions of grand opera, oratorio, and the sentimental ballad, pretensions of which he himself was a victim when he endeavored to work in those fields. Like Gilbert, he had a pen that raced with lightning velocity in the writing of patter music to patter verses. Sullivan, moreover, had a reservoir of melodies seemingly inexhaustible—gay tunes, mocking tunes, and tunes filled with telling sentiment—and he was able to adapt the fullest resources of his remarkable gift at harmony, rhythm and orchestration to the manifold demands of the stage. He was no man’s imitator. Without having recourse to experimentation or unorthodox styles and techniques, his style and manners were so uniquely his that, as T. F. Dunhill has said, “his art is always recognizable.... The Sullivan touch is unmistakable and can be felt instantly.”

Of the universality of the Gilbert and Sullivan comic operas, Isaac Goldberg wrote: “They [Gilbert and Sullivan] were not the rebels of an era, yet as surely they were not the apologists. Their light laughter carried a pleasant danger of its own that, without being the laughter of a Figaro, helped before the advent of a Shaw to keep the atmosphere clear. Transition figures they were, in an age of transition, caught between the personal independence of the artist and the social imperatives of their station. They did not cross over into the new day, though they served as a footbridge for others. Darwin gave them ... only a song for _Princess Ida_, their melodious answer to the revolt of woman against a perfumed slavery; Swinburne and Wilde ... characters for _Patience_. They chided personal foibles, and only indirectly social abuses. They were, after all, moralists not sociologists. It was in their natures; it was of their position. Yet something vital in them lives beyond their time. From their era of caste, of smug rectitude, of sanctimoniousness, they still speak to an age that knows neither corset nor petticoat, that votes with its women, and finds Freud insufficiently aphrodisiac. Perhaps it is because they chide individuals and not institutions that their work, so admirably held in solution by Sullivan’s music, has lived through the most critical epoch in modern history since the French Revolution. For, underneath the cataclysmic changes of history remain the foibles that make us the fit laughter of the gods.”

Overtures to and potpourris from the principal Gilbert and Sullivan comic operas are integral to the repertory of salon and pop orchestras everywhere. In all cases, the overture is made up of the opera’s main melodies, and in most cases these overtures were written by others.

_The Gondoliers_ was the last of the Gilbert and Sullivan comic operas to survive in the permanent repertory. It was produced on December 7, 1889. After the operatic pretension of the _Yeomen of the Guard_ which had preceded it, _The Gondoliers_ represented a welcome return by the authors to the world of paradox, absurdity, and confusion. It has aptly been described as a “farce of errors.” The setting is Venice in the middle of the 18th century. The Duke and Duchess of Plaza-Toro come to Venice accompanied by their daughter, Casilda, and a drummer boy, Luiz, who loves her. In her childhood, Casilda had married the infant heir to the throne of Barataria. This heir had then been stolen and entrusted to the care of a gondolier who raised him as one of his two sons. In time the gondolier himself has forgotten which of his two boys is of royal blood. To complicate matters even further, the two gondolier boys, Marco and Giuseppe, are married. Thus it seems impossible to solve the problem as to who really is the heir to Barataria’s throne and by the same token Gasilda’s husband. But when this problem is finally unscrambled it turns out that the heir is neither Marco nor Giuseppe, but none other than Luiz.

The following are the principal selections from _The Gondoliers_: Antonio’s song, “For the Merriest Fellows Are We”; the duet of Marco and Giuseppe, “We’re Called Gondolieri”; the autobiographical chant of the Duke of Plaza-Toro, “The Duke of Plaza-Toro”; the duet of Casilda and Luiz, “There Was a Time”; the song of the Grand Inquisitor, “I Stole the Prince”; Tessa’s song, “When a Merry Maiden Marries”; the duet of Marco and Giuseppe, “For Everyone Who Feels Inclined”; Giuseppe’s patter song, “Rising Early in the Morning”; Marco’s serenade, “Take a Pair of Sparkling Eyes”; and the song of the Duchess, “On the Day that I was Wedded.”

_Iolanthe_, introduced on November 25, 1882, carried Gilbert’s love of paradox, confusion and absurdity into the fairy kingdom. To Isaac Goldberg, this comic opera, both as words and as music is “a peer among its kind. It is surprisingly complete. It is, indeed, of Gilbert and of Sullivan, all compact. The Gilbertian conflict between reality and fantasy is mirrored in details great and small—in scene, costume, in line, in gesture.... It would be difficult to find among the remaining thirteen comic operas one that reveals the collaborators playing so neatly into each other’s hands—responding so closely to the conscious and unconscious demands of the reciprocal personality.” The heroine, Iolanthe, is a fairy who has married a mortal and thus has been banished to the bottom of a stream by the Queen of her kingdom. But the Queen eventually forgives Iolanthe. Upon returning to her fairy kingdom, Iolanthe discovers she is the mother of a son, Strephon, who is half fairy and half mortal; and Strephon is in love with the mortal, Phyllis, who, in turn, is being pursued not only by her guardian, the Lord Chancellor, but even by the entire House of Peers. When Phyllis finds Strephon with Iolanthe she suspects him of infidelity, since she has no idea that Iolanthe is Strephon’s mother. Immediately she begins to bestow her kindly glances upon two members of the House of Peers. Summoned for help, Iolanthe reveals that Strephon is, indeed, her son, and that his father is none other than the Lord Chancellor. By this time the other fairies of the kingdom have succumbed to the charms and appeal of the Peers. Iolanthe is saved from a second punishment when the Lord Chancellor helps change fairy law to read that any fairy _not_ marrying a mortal is subject to death.

Leading numbers from _Iolanthe_ include the following: the opening chorus of the fairies, “Tripping Hither, Tripping Thither”; Strephon’s song, “Good Morrow, good Mother”; the love duet of Phyllis and Strephon, “Thou the Tree and I the Flower”; Entrance, chorus, and march of the Peers, “Loudly Let the Trumpet Bray” followed immediately by the Lord Chancellor’s monologue, “The Law is the True Embodiment”; the Lord Chancellor’s personal credo, “When I Went to the Bar”; the song of Willis, the sentry, “When All Night Long a Chap Remains”; Lord Mount Arrat’s chauvinistic hymn, “When Britain Really Ruled the Waves”; the Fairy Queen’s song, “Oh, Foolish Fay”; the Lord Chancellor’s patter song about a nightmare, “When You’re Lying Awake”; the trio of the Lord Chancellor, Mount Ararat and Tolloler, “If You Go In”; Strephon’s song, “Fold Your Flapping Wings”; and the finale, “Soon as We May.”

_The Mikado_ was a sensation when first performed in London on March 14, 1885; and with many it is still the favorite of all Gilbert and Sullivan comic operas. By 1900, it had received over one thousand performances in London and five thousand in the United States. Since then these figures have multiplied. It has been adapted for motion pictures, and in New York it has been given in two different jazz versions (_The Hot Mikado_ and _Swing Mikado_). In 1960 it was presented over television with Groucho Marx as the Lord High Executioner.

In its own day much of its appeal was due to its exotic setting of Japan and strange Japanese characters. Such a novelty for the English stage was the strong spice that endowed the play with much of its succulent flavor. Gilbert’s inspiration had been a miniature Japanese village set up in the Knightsbridge section of London which aroused and stimulated the interest of the English people in all things Japanese. Gilbert was one of those who became fascinated by this Oriental exhibit, and his fascination led him to conceive a comic opera with a Japanese background.

But while the Japanese are certainly no longer curiosities in the theater—have, indeed, become a vogue on Broadway since the end of World War II—_The Mikado_ has never lost its tremendous popularity. For _The Mikado_ represents Gilbert and Sullivan at their creative peak. The whimsical characters, absurd situations, the savage malice of the wit and satire, and the strange and paradoxical deviations of the plot find Gilbert at the height of his whimsical imagination and skill; and at every turn, Sullivan was there with music that captured every subtle echo of Gilbert’s fancy.

The thought of having to marry the unattractive Katisha proves so distasteful to Nanki-Poo, son of the Mikado, that he puts on the disguise of a wandering minstrel and flees. After coming to the town of Titipu, he meets and falls in love with Yum-Yum who, in turn, is being sought after by her own guardian, Ko-Ko, the Lord High Executioner. The Lord High Executioner faces a major problem. The ruler of Japan has sent a message to Titipu stating that since no execution has taken place there for many years the office of Lord High Executioner will be abolished if somebody is not executed shortly. When Ko-Ko discovers that Nanki-Poo is about to commit suicide, rather than live without Yum-Yum, he finds a solution to his own problem. Ko-Ko is willing to allow Nanki-Poo to marry Yum-Yum and live with her for a month if at the end of that time he allows himself to be beheaded. The wedding takes place, but before the beheading can be consummated the Mikado arrives on the scene with Katisha. Only then is the discovery made in Titipu that Nanki-Poo is the Mikado’s son and that anyone responsible for his death must boil in oil. The news that Nanki-Poo is alive saves Ko-Ko from this terrible fate; but he soon confronts another in the form of Katisha, whom he must now marry to compensate her for her loss of Nanki-Poo.

Many of the excerpts from _The Mikado_ are known to anyone who has ever heard or whistled a tune. These are the most significant: the opening chorus of the Japanese nobles, “If You Want to Know Who We Are”; Nanki-Poo’s self-introductory ballad, “A Wandering Minstrel I”; Pish-Tush’s description of the Mikado’s decree against flirtation, “Our Great Mikado”; Ko-Ko’s famous patter song, “I’ve Got a Little List”; the song of Yum-Yum’s companions, “Three Little Maids”; the affecting duet of Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum, “Were You Not to Ko-Ko Plighted”; Yum-Yum’s radiant song, “The Sun Whose Rays”; Ko-Ko’s allegorical song, “Tit Willow”; the madrigal of Yum-Yum, Pitti Sing, Nanki-Poo and Pish Tush, “Brightly Dawns Our Wedding Day”; the sprightly trio of Yum-Yum, Nanki-Poo and Ko-Ko, “Here’s a How-de-do”; the song of the Mikado, “My Object All Sublime”; the duet of Nanki-Poo and Ko-Ko, “The Flowers That Bloom in the Spring.”

_Patience_ in 1881 directed its well aimed satirical pricks and barbs at the pre-Raphaelite movement in England with its fetish for simplicity and naturalness; and with equal accuracy at poets and esthetes like Oscar Wilde and Algernon Swinburne, leaders of an esthetic movement that encouraged postures, poses, and pretenses. Twenty maidens are turned into esthetes through their common love for the “fleshly poet” Bunthorne. Because of this love they hold in disdain their former sweethearts, the officers of the Heavy Dragoon. Bunthorne, however, is in love with the simple, unselfish milkmaid Patience, who dotes after the idyllic poet of heavenly beauty, Grosvenor. Since Patience is unselfish she cannot hope to win Grosvenor’s love, for to be loved by one so beautiful is the most selfish thing in the world. She decides to accept Bunthorne. Now the twenty love-sick maidens fall in love with Grosvenor and through his influence abandon estheticism for simplicity. Unaware of this new direction in their loved ones, the Dragoons desert their uniforms for esthetic garb, substitute their former practical everyday behavior for extravagant postures and poses. Weary of the demands made upon him by the doting maids, Grosvenor (with a push from Bunthorne) becomes commonplace. But, unfortunately for Bunthorne, since it is no longer selfish to be loved by a commonplace man, Patience returns to Grosvenor. The maidens, now interested in the commonplace, can now return to their Dragoons. But poor Bunthorne is left alone with nothing but a lily in his hand to console him.

The following are the principal selections from _Patience_: the opening female chorus, “Twenty Lovesick Maidens We”; Patience’s simple query about the nature of love, “I Cannot Tell What This Love May Be”; the chorus of the Dragoons, “The Soldiers of Our Queen” followed immediately by the Colonel’s patter song, “If You Want a Receipt”; Bunthorne’s recipe for success in the business of being an esthete, “If You’re Anxious For to Shine”; Grosvenor’s duet with Patience, “Prithee, Pretty Maiden”; Jane’s soliloquy, “Silvered is the Raven Hair” with which the second act opens; Grosvenor’s fable to the lovesick maidens, “The Magnet and the Churn”; Patience’s ballad, “Love is a Plaintive Song”; and the gay duet of Bunthorne and Grosvenor, “When I Go Out of Doors.”

_Pinafore_ was the first of the successful Gilbert and Sullivan comic operas in which we encounter that strange topsy-turvy world over which Gilbert and Sullivan ruled; that we confront the accidents, coincidences, paradoxes, and mishaps that beset its hapless inhabitants. _Pinafore_ is a devastating satire on the Admiralty in general and William H. Smith, its First Lord, in particular. But it also makes a mockery of social position. Ralph Rackstraw, a humble seaman, is in love with Josephine, daughter of Captain Corcoran, commanding officer of the _H.M.S. Pinafore_. But the first Lord of the Admiralty, Sir Joseph Porter, is also in love with her. Since Josephine’s father would never consent to have his daughter marry one so lowly as Ralph, the lovers decide to elope. But the plans are overheard by the seaman, Dick Deadeye, who reports them to the Captain with the result that Ralph is put in irons. An impasse is thus reached until Little Buttercup, a “Portsmouth Bumboat woman,” reveals an incident of the distant past. Entrusted the care of two infants she mixed them up with the result that the lowly born child, Corcoran, was mistaken for the one of high station and was thus able to rise to the station of Captain; but the child of high station believed to have been of lowly origin, Ralph, had been forced to become a seaman. By order of Sir Joseph, Ralph now becomes the master of the ship and can claim Josephine as his bride. The proud Captain, now reduced to a seaman, must content himself with Little Buttercup.

_Pinafore_ was a sensation when introduced in London in 1878, enjoying seven hundred consecutive performances. But it proved even more sensational in the United States, following its première there at the Boston Museum on November 25 of the same year. Ninety different companies presented this comic opera throughout the country in that first season, with five different companies operating simultaneously in New York. _Pinafore_ was given by colored groups, children’s groups, and religious groups. It was widely parodied. Some of its catch phrases (“What never? No never!” and “For he himself has said it”) entered American _argot_.

As a bountiful source of popular melodies, the score of _Pinafore_ is second only in importance to that of _The Mikado_. Here are the main ones: the opening chorus of the sailors, “We Sail the Ocean Blue”; Buttercup’s forthright self-introduction, “I’m Called Little Buttercup”; Ralph’s madrigal, “The Nightingale,” and ballad, “A Maiden Fair to See”; the Captain’s colloquy with his crew, “I Am the Captain of the _Pinafore_”; Josephine’s poignant ballad, “Sorry Her Lot”; Sir Joseph’s exchange with his sisters, cousins, and aunts, “I am the Monarch of the Sea,” and his autobiographical, “When I Was a Lad”; the Captain’s sad reflection, “Fair Moon to Thee I Sing”; the choral episode, “Carefully on Tip-Toe Stealing” followed by the tongue-in-the-cheek paean to England and Englishmen, “He Is an Englishman.”

_The Pirates of Penzance_ was the only Gilbert and Sullivan comic opera to receive its world première outside England. This took place in New York at the Fifth Avenue Theater in 1879. (There was a single hastily prepared performance in Paignton, England, on December 30, 1879 but this is not regarded as an official première.) The reason why _The Pirates_ was introduced in New York was due to the presence there of its authors. Numerous pirated versions of _Pinafore_ were then being given throughout the United States in about a hundred theaters, and Gilbert and Sullivan decided to come to America for the dual purpose of exploring the conditions under which they might protect their copyright and to offer an authorized version of their opera. In coming to the United States, they brought with them the manuscript of their new work, _The Pirates of Penzance_, and arranged to have its première take place in New York.

_The Pirates of Penzance_ is a blood relative of _Pinafore_. Where _Pinafore_ made fun of the British Navy, _The Pirates_ concentrates on the British Army and constabulary. In _Pinafore_ two babies are mixed up in the cradle for a confusion of their identities; in _The Pirates_ it is the future professions of babies which are confounded in the cradle. In _Pinafore_ the secret is divulged by Buttercup, in _The Pirates_ by Ruth. _Pinafore_ boasts a female chorus of cousins, sisters and aunts while _The Pirates_ has a female chorus made up of the Major General’s daughters.

The hero is young Frederic, apprenticed to a band of pirates by his nurse Ruth, who mistakes the word “pilot” for “pirate.” Frederic falls in love with Mabel, one of the many daughters of Major General Stanley and looks forward eagerly to his freedom from his apprenticeship to the pirate band, which arrives on his twenty-first birthday. But Frederic discovers that since he was born on leap year the year of his freedom—his twenty-first _birthday_—is many, many years off; that by the calendar he is still only a little boy of five. As a pirate he must join his confederates in exterminating Mabel’s father and the constables attending him. But all turns out happily when the pirates actually prove to be ex-noblemen, and are thus found highly acceptable as husbands for the daughters of Major General Stanley. The Major General is also in favor of the union of Mabel and Frederic.

The following are the leading musical selections: the opening chorus of the pirates, “Pour, Oh Pour, the Pirate Sherry”; the Pirate king’s hymn to his profession, “For I am a Pirate King”; the chorus of the Major General’s daughters, “Climbing Over Rocky Mountain”; Frederic’s plaintive plea for a lover, “Oh, Is There Not One Maiden Breast”; the Major General’s autobiographical patter song, “I Am the Very Pattern of a Modern Major General”; the rousing chorus of the constabulary, “When the Foeman Bares His Steel”; the tripping trio of Ruth, Fred and the Pirate King on discovering Fred is only a child of five, “A Paradox, a Most Ingenious Paradox”; Mabel’s haunting ballad, “Oh, Leave Me Not to Pine”; the Police Sergeant’s commentary on his profession, “When a Felon’s Not Engaged in His Employment”; the Pirates’ chorus, “Come Friends Who Plough the Sea,” a melody expropriated by an American, Theodore Morse, for the lyric “Hail, Hail the Gang’s All Here”; and the General’s idyllic ballad, “Sighing Softly To the River.”

_Ruddigore_, a travesty on melodrama, was first performed on January 22, 1887. Because the Murgatroyd family has persecuted witches, an evil spirit had fated it to commit a crime a day. Ruthven Murgatroyd tries to flee from this curse by assuming the identity of simple Robin Oakapple. He meets and falls in love with Rose who is being sought after by Ruthven’s foster brother, Richard. Since Ruthven as Robin Oakapple has the upper hand with Rose, Richard avenges himself by revealing the fact that his brother is really a member of the Murgatroyd family and like all of them is the victim of the ancient family curse. Back in his ancestral home, Ruthven must fulfil his quota of crimes, a job he bungles so badly that his ancestors suddenly come alive out of the picture frames on the wall, to condemn him. But after numerous convolutions of typically Gilbertian logic and reasoning, the curse is broken and Ruthven can live happily with his beloved Rose.

From _Ruddigore_ come the following familiar sections: the opening chorus of the bridesmaids, “Fair Is Rose as the Bright May Day”; Hannah’s legend, “Sir Rupert Murgatroyd”; Rose’s ballad, “If Somebody There Chanced to Be”; the extended duet of Robin and Rose, “I Know a Youth Who Loves a Little Maid”; Richard’s ballad, “I Shipped, D’ye See, in a Revenue Sloop”; Robin’s song, “My Boy You May Take it From Me”; the chorus of the bridesmaids, “Hail the Bride of Seventeen Summers” followed by Rose’s madrigal, “Where the Buds Are Blossoming”; the duet of Robin and Adam, “I Once Was As Meek as a New Born Lamb”; Rose’s ballad, “In Bygone Days”; the chorus of the family portraits, “Painted Emblems of a Race”; Sir Roderic’s patter song, “When the Night Wind Howls”; and Hannah’s ballad, “There Grew a Little Flower.”

_The Sorcerer_, the first successful Gilbert and Sullivan comic opera, was introduced in 1877. Alexis, in love with Aline, wishes to spread around the blessings of love. For this purpose he enlists the cooperation of John Wellington Wells, the creator of a love brew. In an effort to perpetuate Aline’s love for him, Alexis has her drink this potion, only to discover that his beloved has fallen for the vicar, Dr. Daly, he being the first man she sees after drinking the draught. Since Alexis is not the only one to suffer from this now-general epidemic of loving, a serious effort must be made to offset the effects of this magic: a human sacrifice. Naturally that sacrifice becomes none other than John Wellington Wells who is driven to self immolation before things can once again be set normal.

The music of _The Sorcerer_ is not so well known as that of the other famous comic operas, but it does contain several Gilbert and Sullivan delights. Among them are: the song with which Wells introduces himself and his black art, “Oh! My Name Is John Wellington Wells,” the first of the Gilbert and Sullivan patter songs; the vicar’s haunting ballad, “Time Was When Love and I Were Well Acquainted”; and the romantic duet of Aline and Alexis, “It Is Not Love.”

In the _Yeomen of the Guard_, produced on October 3, 1888, the topsy-turvy world of Gilbert and Sullivan is temporarily sidestepped for another of operatic pretensions. Of all the Gilbert and Sullivan plays this one comes closest to resembling an opera. The immediate stimulus for the writing of the text came to Gilbert from an advertisement in a railway station depicting a Beefeater. Out of this acorn grew the oak of Gilbert’s play in which Colonel Charles Fairfax is falsely accused by his kinsman, Poltwhistle, of sorcery. For this he must be condemned to death in the Tower of London. Since Fairfax is not married, his fortune will pass on to his accuser. But Charles thwarts such evil designs by marrying Elsie Maynard, a strolling player—if only for an hour. Then he manages to escape from the Tower disguised as a yeoman of the guard. When the execution is to take place there is no victim. Eventually, a reprieve enables Charles to live permanently with Elsie.

The most important selections from the _Yeomen of the Guard_ are: Phoebe’s song with which the opera opens, “When Maiden Loves”; the chorus of the yeomen, “In the Autumn of Our Life”; Fairfax’ ballad, “Is Life a Boon?”; the extended duet of Point and Elsie, “I Have a Song to Sing, O”; Phoebe’s ballad, “Were I Thy Bride”; Point’s patter song, “Oh, a Private Buffoon Is a Light-Hearted Loon”; the quartet of Elsie, Fairfax, Dame Carruthers and Meryll, “Strange Adventure”; the trio of Fairfax, Elsie and Phoebe, “A Man Who Would Woo a Fair Maid”; the quartet of Elsie, Fairfax, Phoebe and Point, “When a Wooer Goes a-Wooing”; and the finale, “Oh, Thoughtless Crew.”

Besides his music for the comic operas there exists a vast repertory of serious music by Sullivan. Of this hardly more than two songs have retained their popularity. One is “The Lost Chord,” lyric by Adelaide Proctor, written by Sullivan in December 1876 at the deathbed of his brother, Fred. From Charles Willeby we get an account of how this deeply moving piece of music came into being: “For nearly three weeks he watched by his bedside night and day. One night—the end was not very far off then—while his sick brother had for a time fallen into a peaceful sleep, and he was sitting as usual by the bedside, he chanced to come across some verses by Adelaide Proctor with which he had some five years previously been struck. He had then tried to set them to music, but without satisfaction to himself. Now in the stillness of the night he read them over again, and almost as he did so, he conceived their musical equivalent. A stray sheet of music paper was at hand, and he began to write. Slowly the music took shape, until, becoming quite absorbed in it, he determined to finish the song. Even if in the cold light of day it were to prove worthless, it would at least have helped to while away the hours of watching. So he worked on at it. As he progressed, he felt sure this was what he had sought for, and failed to find on the occasion of his first attempt to set the words. In a short time it was complete and not long after in the publisher’s hands. Thus was written ‘The Lost Chord,’ perhaps the most successful song of modern times.”

“Onward Christian Soldiers,” words by Sabine Baring-Gould, is the most celebrated of Sullivan’s more than fifty religious hymns. It is effective not merely for its religious mood but also for its martial spirit. “The music,” says Isaac Goldberg, “has the tread of armies in it, and a broad diatonic stride.” Sullivan wrote it in 1873 upon being appointed editor of the _Hymnal_, a collection of hymns published by Novello for the Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge and the Hymnary.

Franz von Suppé

Franz von Suppé was born Francesco Suppé-Demelli in Spalato, Yugoslavia, on April 18, 1819. He played the flute at eleven, at thirteen started the study of harmony, and at fifteen completed a Mass. Nevertheless, for a while he entertained the idea of becoming either a physician or a teacher of Italian. When he finally decided upon music as a profession he attended the Vienna Conservatory. After serving an apprenticeship as conductor of operettas in Pressburg and Baden, he was appointed principal conductor at Theater-an-der-Wien in Vienna. In 1862 he assumed a similar post with the Karlstheater, and from 1865 until his death at the Leopoldstadttheater. While absorbing the influence and traditions of the opéra-bouffe of Offenbach, he began writing operettas of his own in a style uniquely his, setting and establishing many of the traditions and clichés which would henceforth identify the Viennese operetta. He had an unusual gift for light, caressing tunes, a gay and infectious spirit, and a direct emotional appeal. His first operetta was _Jung lustig in alter traurig_ in 1841. Success came with his incidental music to _Poet and Peasant_ (_Dichter und Bauer_), introduced on August 24, 1846; its overture is still his best known composition and a classic in the musical literature in a lighter vein. A succession of popular operettas, over twenty-five in number, made him one of Europe’s most celebrated composers for the stage. His most famous operettas were: _Das Maedchen vom Lande_ (1847), _Die schoene Galatea_, or _Beautiful Galathea_ (1865), _Leichte Cavallerie_, or _Light Cavalry_ (1866), _Fatinitza_ (1876), _Boccaccio_ (1879), and _Donna Juanita_ (1880). Suppé died in Vienna on May 21, 1895.

The overture to _The Beautiful Galathea_ (_Die schoene Galatea_) opens with brisk music. Horns and woodwind lead into an extended portrayal of exaltated character by strings. Once again horns and woodwind appear, this time providing a transition to a caressing melody that soon develops into a fulsome song. After a theatrical passage, the overture’s main melody is heard in the strings, with harmonies filled in by the woodwind; this is a graceful dance tune which, towards the end of the overture, is repeated with harmonic and tonal amplitude by the full orchestra.

The _Light Cavalry_ Overture (_Leichte Cavallerie_) is, as its name indicates, stirring music of martial character. Horn calls and forceful chords in full orchestra provide at once the military character of this music. A vivacious tune for the violins follows this forceful introduction after which comes the brisk melody for woodwind followed by the full orchestra that has made this overture so famous; the gallop of the cavalry is here simulated in a brisk rhythm. The agitation is dissipated by a sensitive transition in strings and clarinet to a spacious melody in strings in a sensual Hungarian style. The brisk military music and the open horning calls then give the overture a dynamic conclusion.

_Morning, Noon and Night in Vienna_ (_Ein Morgen, ein Mittag, ein Abend in Wien_) is one of the composer’s famous concert overtures. A dramatic introduction—with forceful chords in full orchestra—leads to a beautiful and fully realized song for solo cello against plucked strings, one of Suppé’s most inspired flights of melody. The song ended, the dramatic opening is recalled to serve as a transition to two buoyant and graceful Viennese tunes in the strings, the second repeated vigorously and amplified by full orchestra. The overture ends in a robust rather than lyrical vein.

The _Pique Dame_ (_Queen of Spades_) Overture begins with a murmuring passage for strings that grows in volume and changes character before an expressive melody unfolds in lower strings against an accompanying figure borrowed from the opening passage. A vigorous interlude of strong chords and a vigorous pronouncement by the brass lead into the most famous theme of the composition, a vivacious and jaunty melody for strings and woodwind. This subject is developed at some length before a melodic episode is offered by the lower strings as a preface to a soft, idyllic interlude for the woodwind. The conclusion of the overture is in a vigorous manner with an energetic restatement of earlier thematic material.

Of all the Suppé overtures, whether for the stage or the concert hall, the most famous undoubtedly is the _Poet and Peasant_ (_Dichter und Bauer_). After a stately introduction there arrives a gentle song for the strings. This is succeeded by a more robust theme. The main melody of the overture is a pulsating melody in ⅜ time. Indicative of the enormous popularity of this overture in all parts of the world is that it has been adapted for almost sixty different combinations of instruments.

Johan Svendsen

Johan Svendsen was born in Oslo, Norway, on September 30, 1840. The son of a bandmaster, he dabbled in music for many years before receiving formal instruction. When he was twenty-three he embarked for the first time on a comprehensive musical education by attending the Leipzig Conservatory where he was a pupil of Ferdinand David, Reinecke, and others. After that he toured Europe as a concert violinist and lived for a while in Paris where he played in theater orchestras. In 1870 he visited the United States where he married an American woman whom he had originally met in Paris. Following his return to his native land he was the conductor of the Christiana Musical Association from 1872 to 1877 and again from 1880 to 1883. In 1883 he settled in Copenhagen where for sixteen years he was court conductor, and part of that time conductor at the Royal Theater as well. As a composer Svendsen distinguished himself with major works for orchestra in a pronounced Norwegian style, the most famous being four Norwegian Rhapsodies and the _Carnaval des artistes norvégiens_, in all of which Norwegian folk melodies are used extensively. He also produced many works not of a national identity, among which were symphonies, concertos, chamber-music works, and the highly popular _Carnival in Paris_, for orchestra. Svendsen died in Copenhagen on June 14, 1911.