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"Who can describe the applause, the delight, the enthusiasm of this society? I was present, and I can a.s.sure you I never witnessed such a scene. The flower of the literary and musical society of Vienna were a.s.sembled in the room, which was well adapted to the purpose, and Haydn himself directed the orchestra. The most profound silence, the most scrupulous attention, a sentiment, I might almost say, of religious respect, were the dispositions which prevailed when the first stroke of the bow was given. The general expectation was not disappointed. A long train of beauties, to that moment unknown, unfolded themselves before us; our minds, overcome with pleasure and admiration, experienced during two successive hours what they had rarely felt,--a happy existence, produced by desires, ever lively, ever renewed, and never disappointed."
The first public performance was given at the National Theatre, March 19, 1799, Haydn's name-day, and the next by the Tonkunstler Societat. On the 9th of March he conducted it at the palace of Ofen before the Archduke Palatine Joseph of Hungary. Its success was immediate, and rivalled that of "The Messiah." It was performed all over Europe, and societies were organized for the express purpose of producing it. In London rival performances of it were given at Covent Garden and the King's Theatre during the year 1800.
The oratorio opens with an overture representing chaos. Its effect is at first dull and indefinite, its utterances inarticulate, and its notes dest.i.tute of perceptible melody. It is Nature in her chaotic state, struggling into definite form. Gradually instrument after instrument makes an effort to extricate itself, and as the clarinets and flutes struggle out of the confusion, the feeling of order begins to make itself apparent. The resolutions indicate harmony. At last the wonderful discordances settle, leaving a misty effect that vividly ill.u.s.trates "the Spirit of G.o.d moving upon the face of the waters." Then, at the fiat of the Creator, "Let there be Light," the whole orchestra and chorus burst forth in the sonorous response, "And there was Light." A brief pa.s.sage by Uriel (tenor) describes the division of light from darkness, and the end of chaos, introducing a fugued chorus, in which the rage of Satan and his h.e.l.lish spirits, as they are precipitated into the abyss, is described with tremendous discords and strange modulations; but before it closes, the music relates the beauties of the newly created earth springing up "at G.o.d's command." Raphael describes the making of the firmament, the raging of the storms, the flas.h.i.+ng lightning and rolling thunders, the showers of rain and hail, and the gently falling snow, to an accompaniment which is closely imitative in character. The work of the second day forms the theme of "The Marvellous Work," for soprano obligato with chorus,--a number characterized by great joyousness and spirit. This leads to the number, "Rolling in foaming Billows," in which the music is employed to represent the effect of water, from the roaring billows of the "boisterous seas," and the rivers flowing in "serpent error," to "the limpid brook," whose murmuring ripple is set to one of the sweetest and most delicious of melodies. This leads the way to the well-known aria, "With Verdure clad," of which Haydn himself was very fond, and which he recast three times before he was satisfied with it. It is followed by a fugued chorus ("Awake the Harp"), in which the Angels praise the Creator.
We next pa.s.s to the creation of the planets. The instrumental prelude is a wonderful bit of constantly developing color, which increases "in splendor bright," until the sun appears. It is followed by the rising of the moon, to an accompaniment as tender as its own radiance; and as the stars appear, "the Sons of G.o.d" announce the fourth day, and the first part closes with the great chorus, "The Heavens are telling," in which the entire force of band and singers is employed in full, broad harmony and sonorous chords, leading to a cadence of magnificent power.
The second part opens with the aria, "On mighty Pens," describing in a majestic manner the flight of the eagle, and then blithely pa.s.ses to the gayety of the lark, the tenderness of the cooing doves, and the plaintiveness of the nightingale, in which the singing of the birds is imitated as closely as the resources of music will allow. A beautiful terzetto describes with inimitable grace the gently sloping hills covered with their verdure, the leaping of the fountain into the light, and the flights of birds, and a ba.s.s solo in sonorous manner takes up the swimming fish, closing with "the upheaval of Leviathan from the deep,"
who disports himself among the double-ba.s.ses. This leads to a powerful chorus, "The Lord is great." The next number describes the creation of various animals; and perhaps nothing that art contains can vie with it in varied and vivid description. It begins with the lion, whose deep roar is heard among the wind-instruments. The alertness of the "flexible tiger"
is shown in rapid flights by the strings. A presto ingeniously represents the quick movements of the stag. The horse is accompanied by music which prances and neighs. A quiet pastoral movement, in strong contrast with the preceding abrupt transitions, pictures the cattle seeking their food "on fields and meadows green." A flutter of sounds describes the swarms of insects in the air, and from this we pa.s.s to a long, undulating thread of harmony, representing "the sinuous trace" of the worm. This masterpiece of imitative music is contained in a single recitative. A powerful and dignified aria, sung by Raphael ("Now Heaven in fullest Glory shone"), introduces the creation of man, which is completed in an exquisitely beautiful aria ("In Native Worth ") by Uriel, the second part of which is full of tender beauty in its description of the creation of Eve, and closes with a picture of the happiness of the newly created pair. A brief recitative ("And G.o.d saw everything that He had made") leads to the chorus, "Achieved is the glorious Work,"--a fugue of great power, superbly accompanied. It is interrupted by a trio ("On Thee each living Soul awaits"), but soon returns with still greater power and grandeur, closing with a Gloria and Hallelujah of magnificent proportions.
The third part opens with a symphonic introduction descriptive of the first morning of creation, in which the flutes and horns, combined with the strings, are used with exquisite effect. In a brief recitative ("In rosy Mantle appears") Uriel pictures the joy of Adam and Eve, and bids them sing the praise of G.o.d with the angelic choir, which forms the theme of the succeeding duet and chorus ("By Thee with Bliss"); to which the answering choir replies with a gentle and distant effect, as if from the celestial heights, "Forever blessed be His Power." Again Adam and Eve in successive solos, finally uniting, join with the choir in extolling the goodness of G.o.d; and as they close, all take up the beautiful and majestic paean, "Hail, bounteous Lord! Almighty, hail!" As the angelic shout dies away, a tender, loving dialogue ensues between Adam and Eve, leading to the beautiful duet, "Graceful Consort," which is not only the most delightful number in the work, but in freshness, sweetness, and tenderness stands almost unsurpa.s.sed among compositions of its kind.
After a short bit of recitative by Uriel ("O happy Pair"), the chorus enters upon the closing number ("Sing the Lord, ye Voices all"), beginning slowly and majestically, then developing into a masterly fugue ("Jehovah's Praise forever shall endure"), and closing with a Laudamus of matchless beauty, in which the princ.i.p.al voices in solo parts are set off against the choral and orchestral ma.s.ses with powerful effect.
Haydn's last appearance in public was at a performance of the "Creation,"
which took place in 1808, when it was given in Italian under the direction of Salieri. Dies says of this remarkable scene:--
"On alighting from the Prince's carriage, he was received by distinguished personages of the n.o.bility and by his scholar, Beethoven.
The crowd was so great that the military had to keep order. He was carried, sitting in his arm-chair, into the hall, and was greeted upon his entrance with a flourish of trumpets and joyous shouts of 'Long live Haydn!' He occupied a seat next his Princess, the Prince being at court that day; and on the other side sat his favorite scholar, Fraulein Kurzbeck. The highest people of rank in Vienna selected seats in his vicinity. The French amba.s.sador noticed that he wore the medal of the Paris Concert des Amateurs. 'Not only this, but all the medals which have been awarded in France, you ought to have received,' said he. Haydn thought he felt a little draught; the Princess threw her shawl about him, many ladies following her example, and in a few moments he was completely wrapped in shawls. Poems by Collin and Carpani, the adapter of the text, were presented to him. He could no longer conceal his feelings. His overburdened heart sought and found relief in tears. When the pa.s.sage, 'And there was Light,' came, and the audience broke out into tumultuous applause, he made a motion of his hands towards heaven, and said, 'It came from thence.' He remained in such an agitated condition that he was obliged to take his leave at the close of the first part. As he went out, the audience thronged about him to take leave of him, and Beethoven kissed his hand and forehead devoutly. His departure completely overcame him. He could not address the audience, and could only give expression to his heartfelt grat.i.tude with broken, feeble utterances and blessings. Upon every countenance there was deep pity, and tearful eyes followed him as he was taken to his carriage."
He lived but a short time longer, but long enough to witness the success of his scholar, Beethoven, in the same year.
The Seasons.
"The Seasons," written two years after "The Creation," was Haydn's last oratorio. The music was composed between April, 1798, and April, 1801. It is not an oratorio in the strict sense of the term, as it partakes of the form and qualities, not only of the oratorio, but also of the opera and cantata. The words were compiled by Baron van Swieten from Thomson's well-known poem of "The Seasons," but it was a long time before he could persuade Haydn to undertake the task of composing an oratorio on the subject. His old age and infirmities made him averse to the work. He was greatly annoyed by the text, and still more so by its compiler, who insisted upon changes in the music which Haydn testily declined to make.
He was frequently irritated over the many imitative pa.s.sages, and it was to relieve his own feelings and vary the monotony of the sentiment that he introduced the rollicking baccha.n.a.l chorus in the third part. He expressed his feelings to a friend in the remark: "My head was so full of the nonsensical stuff that it all went topsy-turvy, and I therefore called the closing fugue the 'drunken fugue.'" Notwithstanding his many objections, when once he started, he worked hard,--so hard, indeed, that this continuous labor induced brain-fever and intense suffering, and he never entirely rallied from its effects. A weakness followed, which constantly increased. To one friend he remarked: "The 'Seasons' have brought this trouble upon me. I ought not to have written it. I have overdone;" and to another: "I have done; my head is no longer what it was. Formerly ideas came to me unsought: I am now obliged to seek for them; and for this I feel I am not formed." It is a sad picture, that of the old composer sitting down to work in his seventieth year, distrustful of his own powers, with an uncongenial text before him; but no indications of age or weakness are to be found in this music, which from its first note to the last is fresh, original, bright, and graceful,--a treasure-house of ideas to which subsequent composers have gone time after time when they would write of Nature or attempt to picture her moods.
The "Seasons" was first performed at the Schwartzenberg Palace, Vienna, April 24, 1801, and was repeated on the 27th and on the 1st of May. On the 29th of May Haydn himself conducted it in public at the Redoutensaal, for his own benefit. Though some of the critics disparaged it, and Beethoven was not overpleased with it, it met with a great popular success, and Haydn himself was delighted with the work that had cost him so much trouble. Bombet, the French critic, who was present at the first performance, says of it:--
"The best critique that has been given of the work is that which Haydn himself addressed to me when I went to give him an account of the performance of it in the Palace Schwartzenberg. The applause had been universal, and I hastened out to congratulate the author. Scarcely had I opened my lips when the honest composer stopped me: 'I am happy to find that my music pleases the public; but I can receive no compliment on this work from you. I am convinced that you feel yourself that it is not the "Creation;" and the reason is this: in the "Creation" the actors are angels; here they are peasants.'"
The work is divided into four parts,--Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter,--and the characters introduced are Simon, a farmer; Jane, his daughter; Lucas, a young countryman and shepherd; and a chorus of Country People and Hunters. A vivacious overture, expressing the pa.s.sage from winter to spring, and recitatives by Simon, Lucas, and Jane, who in turn express their delight at the close of the one season and the approach of the other, lead to the opening chorus ("Come, gentle Spring, ethereal Mildness, come"),--a fresh and animated number, which is familiar to every one. Simon trolls out a pastoral aria ("With Joy the impatient Husbandman"), full of the very spirit of quiet, peace, and happiness,--a quaint melody which will inevitably recall to opera-goers the "Zitti, Zitti" from Rossini's "Barber of Seville," the essential difference between the two pieces being that in the latter the time is greatly accelerated. This aria is followed by a trio and chorus ("Be propitious, bounteous Heaven"), a free fugue, in which all beseech a blessing upon the sowing of the seed. The next number is a duet for Jane and Lucas, with chorus ("Spring her lovely Charms unfolding"), which is fairly permeated with the delicate suggestions of opening buds and the delights of the balmy air and young verdure of spring. As its strains die away, all join in the cheerful fugued chorus, "G.o.d of Light," which closes the first part.
After a brief adagio prelude, the second part, "Summer," opens with a charming aria by Simon ("From out the Fold the Shepherd drives"), which gives us a delightful picture of the shepherd driving his flock along the verdant hillside, then leaning upon his staff to watch the rising sun. As it appears, it is welcomed by trio and chorus with the exultant shout, "Hail, O glorious Sun!" As noon approaches, the music fairly becomes radiant. A series of recitatives and arias follow, bringing out in a vivid and picturesque manner the oppressive, exhaustive heat and the longing for rest and shade, leading at last to an ominous silence as the clouds begin to gather and the sky darkens. A short recitative prepares the way. A crash of thunder is heard upon the drums: it is the prelude to the storm-chorus ("Hark! the deep tremendous Voice"), which has been the model for nearly all the storm-descriptions written since Haydn's time.
It is worked up to a tremendous climax of tumult and terror, of pouring rain, flas.h.i.+ng lightning, and pealing thunder. At last the tempest dies away, and in the trio and chorus, "Now cease the Conflicts," night comes on, with its song of the quail,--which Beethoven subsequently utilized in his Pastoral Symphony,--the chirp of the crickets, the croaking of the frogs, the distant chime of the evening bells, and the invocation to sleep. Of the frog episode, Nohl says:--
"He particularly disliked the croaking of the frogs, and realized how much it lowered his art. Swieten showed him an old piece of Gretry's in which the croak was imitated with striking effect. Haydn contended that it would be better if the entire croak were omitted, though he yielded to Swieten's importunities. He declared afterwards, however, that the frog pa.s.sage was not his own. 'It was urged upon me,' he said, 'to write this French croak. In the orchestral setting it is very brief, and it cannot be done on the piano. I trust the critics will not treat me with severity for it. I am an old man, and liable to make mistakes.'"
After a quaintly melodious prelude the third part opens with a terzetto and chorus ("Thus Nature ever kind rewards"), an invocation to virtue and industry, and a quaintly sentimental duet ("Ye gay and painted Fair").
The next number, an aria by Simon ("Behold along the dewy Gra.s.s"),--which gives us a picture of the hunter and his dog pursuing a bird,--prepares the way for the great hunting chorus ("Hark! the Mountains resound"), one of the most graphic and stirring choruses of this description ever written. The whole scene,--the vales and forests resounding with the music of the horns, the finding of the quarry, the flying stag outstripping the wind, the pack at fault, but starting in again as they find the scent, the tally-ho of the hunters, the n.o.ble animal at bay, his death, and the shouts of the crowd,--are all pictured with a freshness and genuine out-door feeling which seem almost incredible considering Haydn's age. This remarkable number is separated from its natural companion, the baccha.n.a.lian chorus, by a recitative extolling the wealth of the vintage. This chorus ("Joyful the Liquor flows") is in two parts,--first a hymn in praise of wine, sung by the tippling revellers, and second, a dance tempo, full of life and beauty, with imitations of the bagpipe and rustic fiddles, the melody being a favorite Austrian dance-air. With this rollicking combination, for the two movements are interwoven, the third part closes.
A slow orchestral prelude, "expressing the thick fogs at the approach of winter," introduces the closing part. In recitative Simon describes the on-coming of the dreary season, and Jane reiterates the sentiment in the cavatina, "Light and Life dejected languish." In Lucas's recitative we see the snow covering the fields, and in his following aria, "The Traveller stands perplexed," a graphic tone-picture of the wanderer lost in the snow is presented. At last he espies the friendly light in the cottage. "Melodious voices greet his ears," and as he enters he beholds the friendly circle, the old father telling over his stories of the past, the mother plying the distaff, the girls spinning, and the young people making the night merry with jest and sport. At last they join in a characteristic imitative chorus ("Let the Wheel move gayly"). After the spinning they gather about the fire, and Jane sings a charming love-story ("A wealthy Lord who long had loved"), accompanied by chorus. Simon improves the occasion to moralize on the sentiment of the seasons in the aria, "In this, O vain, misguided Man," impressing upon us the lesson that "Nought but Truth remains;" and with a general appeal to Heaven for guidance through life, this quaint and peaceful pastoral poem in music draws to its close. It was the last important work of the aged Haydn, but it has all the charm and freshness of youth.
LISZT.
Franz Liszt, the most eminent pianist of his time, who also obtained world-wide celebrity as a composer and orchestral conductor, was born at Raiding, Hungary, Oct. 22, 1811. His father was an accomplished amateur, and played the piano and violoncello with more than ordinary skill. He was In his ninth year Liszt played for the first n.o.blemen encouraged him to continue his studies, and guaranteed him sufficient to defray the expenses of six years' tuition. He went to Vienna at once and studied the piano with Czerny, besides taking lessons in composition from Salieri and Randhartinger. It was while in that city that his first composition, a variation on a waltz of Diabelli, appeared. In 1823 he went to Paris, hoping to secure admission to the Conservatory; but Cherubini refused it on account of his foreign origin, though Cherubini himself was a foreigner. Nothing daunted, young Liszt continued his studies with Reicha and Paer, and two years afterwards brought out a one-act opera ent.i.tled "Don Sancho," which met with a very cordial reception. The slight he had received from Cherubini aroused popular sympathy for him. His wonderful playing attracted universal attention and gained him admission into the most brilliant Parisian salons. He soon became known as the "wonder-child," and was a favorite with every one, especially with the ladies. For two or three years he made artistic tours through France, Switzerland, and England, accompanied by his father, and everywhere met with the most brilliant success. In 1827 the father died, leaving him alone in the world; but good fortune was on his side. During his stay in Paris he had made the friends.h.i.+p of Victor Hugo, George Sand, Lamartine, and other great lights in literature and music, and their influence prepared the way for his permanent success. Notwithstanding that he was in many senses a Bohemian and a man of the world, he had a strong religious tendency. For a time he became deeply interested in the doctrines of Saint-Simon; but his adherence to that system did not last long. He speedily returned to the Roman Church, and some years afterwards went to Rome, at the suggestion of the Pontiff took orders, and set himself about the work of reforming the church music,--a task, however, which he soon abandoned; too many obstacles stood in his way. He expected to become Capellmeister at the Sistine Chapel; but, as he himself said: "I was thwarted by the lack of culture among the cardinals; and besides, most of the princes of the Church were Italian." The Abbe was soon in Germany again, where he resided until the close of his life. From 1839 to 1847 he travelled from one city to another, arousing the most extraordinary enthusiasm; his progress was one continued ovation. In 1849 he went to Weimar and accepted the post of conductor at the Court Theatre. He made Weimar the musical centre of Europe. It was there that his greatest compositions were written, that the school of the music of the future was founded, and that Wagner's operas first gained an unprejudiced hearing; and it is from Weimar that his distinguished pupils, like Von Bulow, Tausig, Bendel, Bronsart, Klindworth, Winterberger, Reubke, and many others date their success. In 1859 he resigned his position, and after that time resided at Rome, Pesth, and Weimar, working for the best interests of his beloved art, and encouraging young musicians to reach the highest standards. Few men of this century have had such a powerful influence upon music, or have done so much to elevate and purify it. His most important works were the "Divina Commedia" and "Faust" symphonies, the twelve symphonic poems, the six Hungarian rhapsodies, the "Graner Ma.s.s," the "Hungarian Coronation Ma.s.s," and the oratorios "Christus" and "The Legend of the Holy Elizabeth." Besides these he wrote a large number of orchestral pieces, songs, and cantatas, and a rich and varied collection of pianoforte solos, transcriptions, and arrangements. He died July 31, 1886.
The Legend of the Holy Elizabeth.
The oratorio, "Legend of the Holy Elizabeth," was written in 1864, and first produced Aug. 15, 1865, upon the occasion of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Conservatory of Pesth-Ofen. The text is by Otto Roquette, and was inspired by Moritz von Schwind's frescos at the Wartburg representing scenes in the life of the saint. A brief allusion to her history will still further elucidate the story which Liszt has treated so powerfully. She was the daughter of King Andreas II. of Hungary, and was born in 1207. At the age of four she was betrothed to Ludwig, son of the Landgrave Hermann of Thuringia, whom she married in 1220. After his death, in 1227, she was driven from the Wartburg and forced to give up the regency by her cruel and ambitious mother-in-law.
After long wanderings and many privations she retired to Bamberg, where her uncle, the bishop, dwelt; but shortly afterwards her rights were restored to her. She renounced them in favor of her son, Hermann II., and died in 1231. Four years later she was canonized at Marpurg by order of Pope Gregory IX. Her life was devoted to the relief of the poor and suffering.
The characters introduced in the oratorio are Saint Elizabeth, Landgrave Ludwig, Landgrave Hermann, Landgravine Sophie, a Hungarian Magnate, the Seneschal, and the Emperor Frederick II. The last three _roles_ are usually a.s.signed to Ludwig, thus reducing the number of solo-singers to four. The work is laid out in two parts, each having three scenes corresponding in subjects with Von Schwind's six frescos. The first describes the arrival of Elizabeth at the Wartburg, and the welcome she receives. In the second she is married, and her husband, Ludwig, has succeeded to the throne. His devotion to knight-errantry leads him from home. During his absence a famine breaks out, and Elizabeth in her devotion to the sufferers impoverishes herself and incurs the wrath of her mother-in-law, the Landgravine Sophie. While carrying a basket of bread and wine one day to the victims of the scourge, she is met by her husband, who has unexpectedly returned. Amazed at the absence of her attendants, he questions her, and she excuses herself with the plea that she has been gathering flowers. Doubting the truth of her statement, he s.n.a.t.c.hes the basket from her. She confesses her falsehood; but upon examining the basket it is found to be full of roses. The Lord has performed a miracle. Overcome with remorse for doubting her, Ludwig begs her forgiveness, and the two join in prayer that the Lord may continue His goodness to them. The third scene opens at Schmalkald, on the borders of Thuringia, where Ludwig has a.s.sembled his knights and n.o.bles who are to accompany him to the Holy Land. They declare their allegiance to Ludwig as their leader, and he calls upon them also to swear fealty to his wife. After a sad farewell Ludwig rides away at the head of his Crusaders. The fourth scene opens with the news of Ludwig's death. The Landgravine claims the castle as her inheritance, compels Elizabeth to abandon the regency, and drives her out in the midst of a furious storm.
In the fifth scene we find her at a hospital which she has founded, and notwithstanding her own troubles and sufferings still ministering to others in like affliction. This scene closes with her death, and in the last we have the ceremonies of her canonization at Marpurg.
The first scene opens with a long orchestral introduction, working up to a powerful climax, and based mainly upon a theme from the old church service, which is Elizabeth's motive, and is frequently heard throughout the work. An animated prelude which follows it introduces the opening chorus ("Welcome the Bride"). A brief solo by Landgrave Hermann ("Welcome, my little Daughter") and another of a national character by the Hungarian Magnate attending the bride intervene, and again the chorus break out in noisy welcome. After a dignified solo by Hermann and a brief dialogue between Ludwig and Elizabeth, a light, graceful allegretto ensues, leading up to a children's chorus ("Merriest Games with thee would we play"), which is delightfully fresh and joyous in its character.
At its close the chorus of welcome resumes, and the scene ends with a ritornelle of a plaintive kind, foreboding the sorrow which is fast approaching.
The second scene, after a short prelude, opens with Ludwig's hunting-song ("From the Mists of the Valleys"), which is written in the conventional style of songs of this cla.s.s, although it has two distinct movements in strong contrast. As he meets Elizabeth, a dialogue ensues, including the scene of the rose miracle, leading up to a brief chorus ("The Lord has done a Wonder"), and followed by an impressive duet in church style ("Him we wors.h.i.+p and praise this Day"). The scene closes with an ensemble, a duet with full choral harmony, worked up with constantly increasing power and set to an accompaniment full of rich color and brilliant effect.
The third scene opens with the song of the Crusaders, an impetuous and brilliant chorus ("In Palestine, the Holy Land"), the accompaniment to which is an independent march movement. The stately rhythm is followed by a solo by the Landgrave, bidding farewell to Elizabeth and appealing to his subjects to be loyal to her. The chorus replies in a short number, based upon the Hungarian melody which has already been heard. Elizabeth follows with a tender but pa.s.sionate appeal to her husband ("Oh, tarry!
oh, shorten not the Hour"), leading to a solo ("With Grief my Spirit wrestles"), which is full of the pain of parting. A long dialogue follows between them, interrupted here and there by the strains of the Crusaders, in which finally the whole chorus join with great power in a martial but sorrowful style. As it comes to a close, the orchestra breaks out into the Crusaders' march,--a brilliant picture of the knightly pageant, the time gradually accelerating as well as the force, until it reaches a tremendous climax. The trio of the march is based upon a religious melody which was sung in the time of the Crusaders; but the remainder follows the Gregorian intonation. The chorus once more resumes its shout of jubilee, and the brilliant scene comes to an end. So vividly colored is this music that one can well fancy the sorrowful Elizabeth as she stands gazing at the band of knights, with Ludwig at their head, slowly riding away, pennons fluttering in the breeze, and lances and mail glittering in the sunlight.
In the fourth scene a slow and mournful movement, followed by an allegro ominous and agitated in style, introduces the Landgravine Sophie, the evil genius of the Wartburg. The tidings of the death of Ludwig have come, and with fierce declamation she orders Elizabeth away from the castle. The latter replies in an aria ("O Day of Mourning, Day of Sorrow") marked by sorrowful lamentation. Sophie again hurls her imprecations, and a very dramatic dialogue ensues, which takes the trio form as the reluctant Seneschal consents to enforce the cruel order. Once more Elizabeth tenderly appeals to her in the aria, "Thou too art a Mother." Sophie impatiently and fiercely exclaims, "No longer tarry!" The scene comes to an end with Elizabeth's lament as she goes out into the storm, which is vividly described in an orchestral movement, interspersed with vocal solos. These have little bearing upon the subject-matter, however, which is mainly described by the band with overwhelming power.
The fifth scene opens with a long declamatory solo by Elizabeth,--full of tenderness and pathos, in which she recalls the dream of childhood,--closing with an orchestral movement of the same general character. It is followed by the full chorus ("Here 'neath the Roof of Want"), which after a few bars is taken by the sopranos and altos separately, closing with chorus again and soprano solo ("Elizabeth, thou holy one"). The death-scene follows ("This is no earthly Night"). Her last words, "Unto mine End Thy Love has led me," are set to music full of pathos, and as she expires, the instrumentation dies away in peaceful, tranquil strains. A semi-chorus, which can also be sung by three solo voices ("The Pain is over"), closes the sad scene, the ritornelle at the end being made still more effective by the harps, which give it a celestial character.
The last scene opens with an interlude which gathers up all the motives of the oratorio,--the Pilgrim's Song, the Crusaders' March, the Church Song, and the Hungarian Air, and weaves them into a rich and varied texture for full orchestra, bells, and drums, forming the funeral song of the sainted Elizabeth,--the same effect, and produced in the same manner, which Wagner subsequently used with such magnificent power in the dirge of Siegfried. It is followed by a solo from the Emperor, "I see a.s.sembled round the Throne,"--a slow and dignified air, leading to the great ensemble closing the work, and descriptive of the canonization of Elizabeth. It begins as an antiphonal chorus ("Mid Tears and Solemn Mourning"), the female chorus answering the male and closing in unison.
Once more the Crusaders' March is heard in the orchestra as the knights sing, "O Thou whose Life-blood streamed." The church choir sings the chorale, "Decorata novo flore," the Hungarian and German bishops intone their benedictions, and then all join in the powerful and broadly harmonious hymn, "Tu pro n.o.bis Mater pia," closing with a sonorous and majestic "Amen."
Christus.
"Christus, oratorio, with texts from the Holy Scriptures and the Catholic Liturgy," as Liszt ent.i.tles his work, was finished in 1866. At the outset the composer selected the "Hymn of Praise" and "Pater Noster" from Ruchert's "Evangelical Harmony;" and upon these and one or two other detached numbers for a background, he built up a series of religious events connected with the offices of the Church according to the Vulgate and its Liturgy. These events are laid out in three divisions,--"The Christmas Oratorio," "After Epiphany," and "The Pa.s.sion and Resurrection;" the separate parts of which are as follows: (1) The Introduction. (2) Pastoral and Vision of the Angels. (3) Stabat Mater speciosa. (4) Song of the Shepherds in the Manger. (5) The Anointing of the three Kings. (6) Hymn of Praise. (7) Pater Noster. (8) The Establishment or Foundation of the Christian Church. (9) The Storm on the Lake. (10) The Entry into Jerusalem. (11) Tristis est anima mea. (12) Stabat Mater dolorosa. (13) Easter Hymn. (14) Resurrection of Christ. The motive of the work is announced in Saint Paul's words to the Ephesians: "But speaking the truth in love, may grow up into him in all things, which is the head, even Christ."
The long instrumental introduction is constructed upon a theme representative of a text from Isaiah, "Resound, ye Heavens above," many times repeated, and leading to a pastoral which prepares the way for the angelic announcement to the shepherds. This announcement is made in the simple collect music by a soprano solo, and replied to by a female chorus, first accompanied by string quartet, and then by full orchestra, and leading to the full chorus, "Gloria in excelsis," a series of mighty shouts, closing with a stately Hallelujah and a return of the orchestra to the pastoral movement. The next division is the old Latin hymn, "Stabat Mater speciosa," the Virgin at the cradle of our Lord,--a six-part chorus in church style, accompanied by the organ, with solo variations interspersed through it, and characterized by a lofty feeling of devotion, especially in the "Inflammatus" and the majestic final "Amen." The remaining numbers of the first part are entirely instrumental, including the "Shepherd's Song at the Manger," a pastoral full of beautiful effects, and "the Three Holy Kings," a march which is majestic in its style and broad in its rhythm, and full of characteristic color. The two numbers close the part in a brilliant and jubilant manner.
The second part opens with the "Seligkeiten" ("Hymn of Praise"), a grand declamatory solo for baritone, accompanied by a six-part chorus, which, like the next number, was written by Liszt in his younger days and utilized in its present setting. The hymn is accompanied by organ throughout, and is followed by the "Pater Noster," also with organ,--a fervent, almost pa.s.sionate, offering of prayer by the precentors and congregation, closing with a mighty "Amen." In the next number--the founding of the Church ("Tu es Petrus"), beginning with male chorus--the orchestra resumes its work. The voices move on in stately manner until the words, "Simon, son of Jona, lovest thou me?" are reached, when the full chorus comes in with imposing effect. Of this number, Nohl says in his fine a.n.a.lysis of "Christus:"--
"The perishable, sinful world in all its aspects is here contrasted with an undoubting faith in an everlastingly constant higher ideal, to give it this name. That it is the spirit of the subject, not its mere perishable husk, is shown by the nature of the melody, which rises to the most powerful expression of the final victory of this spirit of love. Now again the full orchestra joins the double chorus; for the world, the whole world, is meant."
The next scene, ent.i.tled "The Wonder," is purely instrumental, and is a marvellous picture of the storm upon the lake, which Nohl also characterizes with reference to its inner meanings:--
"The ninth scene is a marvel. 'The storms rage in contention,'--not the storms of the sea, but the storm of desires to which the weak of faith are exposed. It is not the outward marvel or superst.i.tion that is to be strengthened, but the faith of human nature in itself and its higher power and destiny. Hence the actual inner tranquillity when, after the raging orchestral tumult, 'a great stillness' succeeds Christ's words, which is ingeniously introduced with the motive of the 'Seligkeit,'