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UMS Concert Program, May 15, 16, 17, And 18, 1935: The Forty-second Annual May Festival --

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Hill Auditorium, Ann Arbor, Michigan

Official cTrogranu
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May Festival
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University Musical Society
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University of Michigan
Official Program of
Ctohe orty-second cAnnual
May Festival
@@@@May 15, 16, 17, and 18, 1935 Hill Auditorium, Ann Arbor, Michigan
Published by
The University Musical Society
Ann Arbor, Michigan
Charles A. Sink, A.B., M.Ed., LL.D President
Alexander G. Ruthven, Ph.D., LL.D Vice-President
Durand W. Springer, B.S., A.M Secretary
Levi D. Wines, C.E Treasurer
Oscar A. Eberbach, A.B Assistant Secretary-Treasurer
Junius E. Beal, A.B.
Harley A. Haynes, M.D.
James Inglis
Arnold H. Goss
Earl V. Moore, A.M., Mus.D.
Horace G. Prettyman, A.B.
Shirley W. Smith, A.M.
The University Musical Society is organized under an Act of the state of Michigan providing for the incorporation of "associations not for pecuniary profit." Its purpose is "to cultivate the public taste for music." All fees are placed at the lowest possible point compatible with sound business principles, the financial side serving but as a means to an educational and artistic end, a fact duly recog­nized by the Treasury Department of the United States by exempting from tax admissions to concerts given under its auspices.
Earl V. Moore, Musical Director
Frederick Stock, Orchestral Conductor
Eric DeLamarter, Associate Conductor
Juva Higbee, Conductor of Young People's Festival Chorus
Howard Hanson, Guest Conductor
Mary Moore
Ethyl Hayden
Contralto Myrtle Leonard
Tenors Giovanni Martinelli
Maxim Panteleieff Theodore Webb
Pianist Josef Lhevinne
Violinist Ruth Posselt
Narrator Paul Leyssac
Organist E. William Doty
A ccompanist Mabel Ross Rhead
Helen Jepson
Paul Althouse
Wilbur Evans Mark Bills
Chicago Symphony Orchestra University Choral Union Young People's Festival Chorus
Notices and Acknowledgments
All concerts will begin on time (Eastern standard time).
Trumpet calls from the stage will be sounded three minutes before the resumption of the program after intermission.
Our patrons are invited to inspect the Stearns Collection of Musical Instruments in the foyer of the first balcony and the adjoining room.
To study the evolution of musical instruments, it is only necessary to view the cases in their numerical order and remember that in the wall cases the sequence runs from right to left and from top to bottom, while the standard cases should always be approached on the left-hand side. Descriptive lists are attached to each case.
The Musical Director of the Festival desires to express his great obligation to Miss Juva Higbee, Supervisor of Music in the Ann Arbor Public Schools, for her valuable service as Conductor of the Young People's Chorus, to the several members of her staff for their efficient preparatory work, and to the teachers in the various schools from which the children have been drawn, for their cooperation.
The writer of the analyses hereby expresses his deep obligation to Mr. Felix Borowski, whose scholarly analyses, given in the Program Book of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, are authoritative contribu­tions to contemporary criticism and have been drawn upon for some of the analyses in this book.
The Steinway is the official concert piano of the University Musical Society.
Wednesday Evening, May 15, at 8:15
Helen Jepson, Soprano Mark Bills, Baritone
University Choral Union Chicago Symphony Orchestra
Frederick Stock and Howard Hanson (Guest), Conductors
Overture, "Leonore," Op. 72, No. 2 Beethoven
Aria, "Qual fiammia avea nel guardo" ("Pagliacci") . . . Leoncavallo
Helen Jepson
Symphonic Poem, "Prairie" Sowerby
Aria, "Pleurez, mes yeux" ("Le Cid") Massenet
Miss Jepson
Songs from "Drum Taps" (Walt Whitman) Hanson
World Premiere
I. Beat! Beat! Drums! II. By the Bivouac's Fitful Flame
III. To Thee, Old Cause
Mark Bills and University Choral Union Conducted by the Composer
Scherzo, "L'Apprenti Sorcier" Dukas
Arias, "O mio babbino, caro" ("Gianni Schicchi")] Puccini
Musetta's Waltz Song ("La Boheme") J
Miss Jepson
Encores only after the conclusion of the program
Thursday Evening, May 16, at 8:15
Mary Moore, Sofrano Ethyl Hayden, Sofrano
Myrtle Leonard, Contralto Paul Althouse, Tenor
Paul Leyssac, Narrator
University Choral Union Chicago Symphony Orchestra
Mabel Ross Rhead, Pianist E. William Doty, Organist
Earl V. Moore and Frederick Stock, Conductors
PROGRAM "King David," A Symphonic Psalm in Three Parts,
After a Drama by Rene Morax Honegger
For Soprano, Alto, Tenor Soli, Narrator, Chorus, Orchestra, Organ, and Piano
Miss Hayden, Miss Leonard, Mr. Althouse, Mr. Leyssac,
and the University Choral Union
First Part
The Song of David, Contralto
Psalm: "All praise to Him," Charm
Song of Victory, Chorus
"In the Lord I put my faith," Tenor
"O! had I wings," Sofrano
Son of the Prophets, Male Chorus
Psalm: "Pity me, Lord!" Tenor Saul's Camp
"God the Lord shall be my light," Chorus Incantation of the Witch of Endor March of the Philistines Lament of Gilboa, Soprano, Contralto, and Women's Chorus
Second Part
Song of the Daughters of Israel, Soprano Dance before the Ark, Soli and Chorus and Women's Chorus
Third Part
Song: "Now my voice," Chorus Psalm of Penitence, Chorus "Behold, in evil I was born," Chorus "Oh, shall I raise my eyes" Tenor
March of the Hebrews
"Thee will I love, O Lord," Chorus
The Crowning of Solomon,
The Death of David, Soprano and Chorus
Symphonic Poem, "The Moldau" Smetana
Arias, "Caro Nome" ("Rigoletto") Verdi
"Io son Titania" ("Mignon") Thomas
Mary Moore
Waltz, from Suite "Ruses d'Amour," Op. 6 i Glazounow
Aria, Bell Song ("Lakme") Delibes
Miss Moore Encores only after the conclusion of the ¦program
Friday Afternoon, May 17, at 2:30
Ruth Posselt, Violinist
Young People's Festival Chorus Orchestral Accompaniment
Eric DeLamarter and Juva Higbee, Conductors
PROGRAM Overture, "Die Entfiihrung aus dem Serail" Mozart
Linden Tree Schubert
Now is the Month of Maying Morley
Fa la nana bambin (To be sung in Italian) Sadero
Young People's Festival Chorus
Symphony, C major, "Le Midi" (B. and H. No. 7) Haydn
Adagio--Allegro Adagio Adagio Menuetto Finale
Cantata, "Jumblies" (World Premiere) James
Young People's Festival Chorus
Concerto in D major for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 35 . . Tchaikowsky
Allegro moderato Canzonetta
Allegro vivacissimo
Ruth Posselt
Friday Evening, May 17, at 8:15
Giovanni Martinelli, Tenor
Chicago Symphony Orchestra
Frederick Stock, Conductor
Concerto, No. 3, G major, for String Orchestra Bach
Allegro Andante Presto
Aria, "O Paradiso" ("L'Africana") Meyerbeer
Giovanni Martinelli
Suite for Orchestra, Op. 19 Dohnanyi
Andante con variazioni Scherzo Romanza Rondo
Aria, "When thou by Heaven's grace" ("La Juive") Halevy
Mr. Martinelli
Fantasy, "Circus Day," Op. 18 Taylor
Street Parade Bareback Riders Trained Animals: The Lion Cage The Waltzing Elephants Tight-Rope Walker Juggler Clowns Finale
Aria, "Un di all' azzurro spazio" ("Andrea Chenier") .... Giordano
Mr. Martinelli
Encores only after the conclusion of the -program [8]
Saturday Afternoon, May i 8, at 2130
Josef Lhevinne, Pianist
Chicago Symphony Orchestra
Frederick Stock, Conductor
PROGRAM Tableau Musical, "Baba Yaga," Op. 56 Liadow
Symphony after Byron's "Manfred," B minor, Op. 58 . . Tchaikowsky
Manfred Wandering in the Alps
The Fairy of the Alps
The Underground Palace of Arimanes
Concerto in F minor for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 21, No. 2 . . Chopin
Maestoso Larghetto
Allegro vivace
Josef Lhevinne
Saturday Evening, May i 8, at 8:15
Maxim Panteleieff, Baritone Myrtle Leonard, Contralto
Theodore Webb, Baritone Paul Althouse, Tenor
Wilbur Evans, Baritone Mark Bills, Baritone
Dorothy Park, Soprano Hope Eddy, Contralto
University Choral Union Chicago Symphony Orchestra
Mabel Ross Rhead, Pianist E. William Doty, Organist Earl V. Moore, Conductor
"Boris Godunof" (Original Version) Moussorgsky
An Opera in a Prologue and Four Acts Period, 1598--1605; Locale, Russia and Poland
The Cast
Boris Godunof, The Tsar Maxim Panteleieff
Feodor, his son Hope Eddy
Xenia, his daughter Dorothy Park
Prince Vassili Ivanovich Shuisky, his adviser and accomflice . . Paul Althouse
Andrei Shchelkalof, Secretary of the Council Wilbur Evans
Pimen, a monk and chronicler Theodore Webb
The Pretender, a novice in Pimen's care Paul Althouse
Marina Mnishek, daughter of the Lord of Sandomir .... Myrtle Leonard
Rangoni, a Jesuit priest Theodore Webb
Varlaam, a vagabond Wilbur Evans
Missail, a vagabond Mark Bills
Nikitich, a police officer 1
Mitiukha, a peasant I Wilbur Evans
The Boyar in Attendance [ boyar khrushchof j
Lavitsky 1 Jesujts Mark Bills
Chernikofsky J
Boyars, Guards, Officers, Polish ]
Noblemen and Ladies, Sandomir V University Choral Union
Girls, the Muscovite People, etc. J
By the University Musical Society 1935
Wednesday Evening, May 15 Overture, "Leonore," Op. 72, No. 2 Beethoven
Ludwig van Beethoven was born at Bonn, Decem­ber 16, 1770; died at Vienna, March 26, 1827.
Beethoven, the master of absolute music, undeniably exerted a powerful influence upon successive opera composers. But Fidelio, his own single attempt in the field of opera, has had far less emancipating force than most of his instru­mental compositions, or the operas of his inferior contemporary, von Weber. The supreme service of Fidelto to aesthetic history was done when it turned Beetho­ven's attention to the dramatic overture. There is more real dramatic art in the four overtures written for Fidelto than exists in the entire bulky score of the opera, for which they were designed as preludes.
The four overtures to Fidelio are known as the "Leonore," Nos. 1,2, and 3 in C major, and the "Fidelio" in E major. The overture on tonight's program was performed at the first production of the opera on November 20, 1805, at the Theater an der Wein. The success of the opera was small and only two other performances followed. The failure was due in a measure to the excite­ment created by the occupation of Vienna by Napoleon's armies. There was an exodus of the nobility and residents from the city, and all had fled whose under­standing of, and sympathy with, Beethoven's genius would have assured the success of the work. The Theater, if we are to believe the reporter for the 2eitung fur die Elegante Welt, was almost empty, many of those present having been officers of Napoleon's army.
In the "Leonore No. 2," Beethoven began to liberate the overture and to set it on its own feet, just as Bach in his suites, ancestor of the symphony, freed dance music from its slavery to the floor. In the "Leonore," Nos. I, 2, and 3, "Egmont," "Coriolanus," and "Fidelio" overtures, Beethoven created a newer and freer and more musical program music. Each is a tone poem in its own right, full of inspiration, dramatic power, and tragic conflict.
The action of the opera occurs in a fortress near Seville. Don Florestan, a Spanish nobleman, has been imprisoned for life, and to make his fate certain, his mortal enemy, Don Pizarro, governor of the prison, has announced his death, meanwhile putting the unfortunate man in the lowest dungeon, where he is
expected to die by gradual starvation, thus rendering unnecessary a resort to violent means.
Don Florestan, however, has a devoted wife who refuses to believe the report of his death. Disguising herself as a servant, and assuming the name of Fidelio, she secures employment with Rocco, the head jailer. Rocco's daughter falls in love with the supposed handsome youth, and he is soon in such high favor that he is permitted to accompany Rocco on his visits to the prisoner.
Hearing that the minister of the interior is coming to the prison to investigate the supposed death of Florestan, the governor decides to murder him, and asks Rocco's aid. Fidelio overhears the conversation and gets Rocco to allow her to dig the grave. Just as Don Pizarro is about to strike the fatal blow, Fidelio rushes forward, proclaims herself the wife of the prisoner, and shields him. The governor is about to sacrifice both when a flourish of trumpets announces the arrival of the minister just in time to prevent the murder of Florestan.
The main movement is preceded by a lengthy Introduction (Adagio, C ma­jor, 3-4 time). After nine measures of this the tenth ushers in the opening phrase of the air "In des Lebens Friihlingstagen" sung by Florestan in the second act of the opera, here played by clarinets, bassoons, and two horns.
The Allegro (C major, 2-2 time) opens with the principal subject an­nounced ff by the violoncellos, a sustained C being held by the horns, and the same note muttered by the violas. A gradual crescendo brings a climax with this same subject ff in the full orchestra. The second theme appears in E major in the 'cellos, an arpeggio figure sounding above it in the first violins. This theme is based on Florestan's air previously heard in the Introduction. The Develop­ment, mainly based on the material of the principal theme, brings in at the close a unison passage in all the strings which leads into a chord of E flat, upon which a trumpet call is heard as from afar. In the opera this call announces the arrival at the prison of the Minister of Justice, Don Fernando, who arrives just in time to prevent the murder of Florestan by his jailer, Don Pizarro. There follows a reminiscence of the principal subject of the movement, and the trumpet call is heard once more. After fourteen measures of modulation Florestan's air appears once again, Adagio, in the wood wind and in C major. Note here the important part for the drum. The violins then bring forward the Allegro temfo again in a passage beginning pianissimo, but growing in power as the other strings and the wood wind join in, and finally culminating in a great climax, upon which (Presto) the material of the principal subject is heard for the last time in the form of a coda.
Aria, "Qual flammia avea nel guardo" ("Pagliacci") . Leoncavallo
Helen Jepson
Ruggiero Leoncavallo was born at Naples, March 8, 1858; died at Montecatini, near Florence, August 9, 1919.
Leoncavallo's fame rests entirely upon his truly moving opera Pagliacci, a terse and tragic work, full of fire and intense drama, vivid characterizations, brilliant orchestration, and scintillating color.
The aria is sung by Nedda, Tonio's faithless wife, who is so full of the joy of living that she has no conception of the fact that she is courting death. A flight of birds above her takes her mind from the ominous thought of her jealous husband, Tonio. The text in translation and condensation is as follows:
His eyes were flaming with fire. I dropped my eyes, fearful that he knew what I was thinking. But enough of this horrid dream! The summer sun is shining and I feel the thrill of living. A tender longing and a nameless desire fills my heart. Oh, you motherless birds, what are you seeking and where are you going Who knows My mother understood your cry, and in my childhood she, told me that you fly far away toward the unknown lands of your dreams, which you seek in vain, urged by some power you know not, but which drives you on and on.
Symphonic Poem, "Prairie" Sowerby
Leo Sowerby was born May 1, 1895, at Grand Rapids, Michigan.
"Have you seen a red sunset drip over one of my cornfields, the shore of night stars, the wave lines of dawn up a wheat valley
"Have you heard my threshing crews yelling in the chaff of a strawpile and the running wheat of the wagon boards, my corn huskers, my harvest hands hauling crops, singing dreams of women, worlds, horizons"
These quotations taken from Carl Sandburg's poem "Prairie" form the liter­ary basis for this symphonic poem, which is constructed in such a way that sections seeking to interpret the moods of the poet's "red sunset," "shore of night stars," "wave lines of dawn," "threshing crews yelling in the chaff of a strawpile," follow one another in succession without break or special line of demarcation. At the end, the composer has sought to recall the mood of the beginning, which suggests the hush and montony of the vast stretches of farm­land whose beauty Mr. Sandburg has idealized in his poem.
A musical analysis is not necessary nor desirable in the case of an orchestral
poem. The listener has only to imagine himself in an Illinois cornfield, far away from railroads, motor cars, telephones and radios, at peace and at one with the beauty that is about him.
The symphonic poem "Prairie" was sketched in February, 1929, and scored for orchestra during the two following months. The first performance was given by the National High School Orchestra at that organization's training camp at Interlochen, Michigan, August 11, 1929.
In Leo Sowerby, America has one of its most forceful creative personalities. His art has captured fancy and approbation on both sides of the Atlantic. His style is, to a marked degree, indigenous, and is convincingly sincere in its buoy-ance, virility, and sturdiness. At the same time it is not lacking in thoughtful-ness and warmth of feeling. In these respects Sowerby stands apart from many modernists, who, excellent though they be, too often ostentatiously exhibit tech­nical novelty at the expense of appropriateness and clarity. Although he makes few concessions to the past, and insists upon a thoroughgoing modernism, his music is written with sureness, coherence, and conviction that removes it from the field of experimentation and places upon its creator the stamp of a thor­oughly arrived and established artist.
Aria, "Pleurez, mes yeux" ("Le Cid") Massenet
Miss Jepson
Jules Massenet was born May 12, 1842, at Mondand; died August 13, 1912, at Paris.
Massenet's facile and melodious style was evident in his earliest works, and remained without much development through his long career, the chief source of his popularity. This gift he applied with consummate tact so as to win and retain popular interest. Although his genius did not rise to exalted heights, or exhibit any marked vitality or profound inspiration, in points of technical presen­tation, instrumentation, fine workmanship, and versatility of subject, he won a secure place in the world of music.
His opera Le Cid was based by its librettists, d'Ennery, Blan, and Gallet, partly on the drama by Corneille, and partly on situations of their own invention.
"Pleurez, mes yeux" is sung by Chimene in the third act as she sits alone in her chamber at night, mourning for her father who has been slain by the hand of her lover.
The text in free translation and condensation follows:
The strife is ended, and I turn, broken in spirit, to my lonely grief. Weep, my eyes, and flow, sad tears. If there is any hope left to me, it is for death.
FIRST CONCERT Songs from "Drum Taps" (Walt Whitman) Hanson
Howard Hanson was born at Wahoo, Nebraska, October 28, 1896.
With the bombardment of Fort Sumter, on April 12, 1861, the Civil War began. The news reached New York late at night. Walt Whitman, who had been attending the opera in Fourteenth Street, was walking down Broadway about twelve o'clock, on his way back to Brooklyn, when he heard the cries of newsboys with their extras. For the next eighteen months there is practically no record of his activity. Before the end of 1862 the volume "Drum Taps" was written, and it bears witness to the effect the War had had upon him. In this great work, Whitman has embodied the very spirit of civil conflict, picturing war with poignant realism, a terrible and tender beauty, such as only the great masters of literature have been able to compass. The electric shock of the first alarm of war, as drums and bugles sound; the sinewy tread of the volunteer soldiery, the fight, the cavalry crossing the ford, the crashing and smoking artil­lery, the bivouac, the field hospital at night, the vigil, the gaunt faces of the dead are brought to us with a descriptive power seldom found in nature poets. In three songs from this great poem, "Beat! Beat! Drums!" "By the Bivouac's Fitful Flame," and "To Thee, Old Cause," Howard Hanson has caught in his music all the terrific drama, pathos, and patriotic fervor of civil strife.
While attending Luther College, Nebraska, and the School of Music at the University of Nebraska, Dr. Hanson pursued regular collegiate studies simul­taneously with courses in music. He was graduated from the Institute of Musical Art, New York City, and also received an academic degree from Northwestern University, Evanston, where he was appointed Instructor in Theory. From 1916-19, he was Professor of Theory and Composition at the College of the Pacific, San Jose, California, and from 1919-21, he was Dean of the Conservatory of Fine Arts. In 1921, he won the coveted Prix de Rome in musical composition, giving to him a Fellowship in the American Academy in Rome, where for the next three years he devoted his undivided attention to composition. It was during the years 1921--24 that many of Dr. Hanson's orchestral compositions were written. Since 1924, Dr. Hanson has been Director of the Eastman School of Music at Rochester, New York, and in 1925 North­western University conferred upon him the honorary degree of Doctor of Music.
Dr. Hanson is best known as composer, conductor, and musical director. He has been the guest conductor with the symphony orchestras in Rome, New York, St. Louis, Kansas City, San Francisco, Rochester, and Los Angeles. The winter of 1933 he conducted performances of American compositions in Berlin and Leipzig.
Of great significance to the history of American music is the annual Spring Festival of American music which he has established at Rochester. During the winter four concerts devoted entirely to the works of American composers are included in addition to the regular series of concerts. Because of his untiring efforts in the interest of American composers, he has helped to establish a prestige for American music and has directed the attention of his country to the inherent talent and creative powers of its own composers. From this point of view he is a militant chauvinist. He believes that every race must write its own music and that ours must come out of America, finding its inception in jazz, cowboy songs, and negro spirituals, thereby attaining nationalistic traits. Although a champion of the new idioms in music, he himself tends toward a conservative modernism.
Scherzo, "L'Apprenti Sorcier" (The Sorcerer's Apprentice) . Dukas
Paul Dukas was born at Paris in 1865.
Paul Dukas is one of the most distinguished of the present generation of French composers. In 1888 he won the coveted Prix de Rome, and for years was a leading critic for La Revue Hebdomadire and the Gazette des Beaux Arts, displaying an uncommon acuteness of mind, and an independence and liberality of views. He is a musical critic of manifest authority and a notable writer.
"L'Apprenti Sorcier," a symphonic poem in the form of a scherzo, has for its pictorial basis the poem "Die Zauberlehrling" written by the German poet, Goethe, in 1796, and based upon a dialogue in Lucian's "The Lie Fancier." The poem tells the story of an apprentice of a magician who, when his master leaves the house, proceeds to experiment with the magic formula he has heard the sorcerer utter. Using the cabalistic words employed by his master, the ap­prentice commands a broom to go to the shore and fetch water. The broom obeys, and when all the pitchers are filled, the apprentice is dismayed to discover that he cannot remember the magic utterance that will compel the broom to stop. Soon the room is swimming with water, and still the indefatigable utensil hurries to and from the river's edge. In desperation, the apprentice resolves to stop its progress with a hatchet. As the broom comes in with its liquid burden, the young man splits the broom in twain. Before he has time to utter a sigh of relief at the satisfactory ending of his troubles, his dismay is doubly increased. For now, both parts of the broom are speeding to the river's bank! As the water splashes over and around the steps and hall, the apprentice screams for help. And help arrives. The sorcerer enters at that moment, takes in the situation, commands the carriers to desist, and both parts of the broom fly into their corner.
The music that tells the incidents in this story is graphic in its descriptive powers, full of furious animation and ironic rhythms. It displays a mastery of traditional form and a logical construction united with a brilliance of writing, a delicacy of language, and a fullness of poetic sentiment. The instrumentation, by turns light, subtle, lustrous, and opulent, is always solid, logical, and firm.
Aria, "O mio babbino, caro" ("Gianni Schicchi") .... Puccini
Miss Jepson
Giocomo Puccini was born at Luca, Italy, in 1858; died at Brussels, in 1925.
Upon whom the operatic mantle of Italy will fall in this generation is an open question; that Verdi in his day, and Puccini in his, won the toga with dis­tinction born of undenied right is a conceded fact. Called by Verdi the most promising of his successors, Puccini justified the master's prophecy by a career of uninterrupted success from his first dramatic effort to his last. While there are numerous men such as Mascagni and Leoncavallo who have won fame through a single work, Puccini achieved high esteem both by the quantity and quality of his operatic creations.
Gianni Schicchi is one of Puccini's three one-act operas and the action fits admirably the requirements of a one-act play. It is swift, varied, interesting, and the music aids it at every point. When the action of Gianni Schicchi opens, one Donati has been dead for two hours. His relatives are thinking of the will. When it is finally read, it is found that Donati left all his money to charity. Schicchi, father of Lauretta, who is in love with one of Donati's kin, is called in and consulted. He plans a ruse. So far only those in the room know of Donati's demise. The corpse is hidden. Schicchi gets into bed, and when the doctor calls, imitates the dead man's voice and pretends he wants to go to sleep. The lawyer is sent for. Schicchi dictates a new will in favor of himself and becomes the heir to Donati's fortune.
The aria on tonight's program is sung by Lauretta, to her father, Gianni Schicchi. In it she begs his consent to her marriage. Pleading coyly at first, she ends by threatening to throw herself under the Ponte Vecchio if he does not allow her to go to Porte Rossa to buy a wedding ring.
Aria, Musetta's Waltz Song ("La Boheme") Puccini
Miss Jepson
If a Frenchman was able to express most adequately the life and spirit of France (Bizet in Carmen), it remained for an Italian to interpret and fix in an
opera the student and artist life of Paris (Puccini in La Boheme). There is a vigor, and a lifelike realism, a delicately drawn pathos in the score of this work that raises it to high position in the field of lyric drama. The melodies are spontaneous, the orchestral colorings rich and varied, and the incidents in the drama are woven into a musical score that has great depth of texture.
Musetta coquettishly and deliberately sings this charming waltz song to her lover Marcel, who is sitting at a nearby table. Without arousing the suspicion of her aged and unattractive escort, she informs Marcel that she is still in love with him.
Thursday Evening, May 16
"King David," a Symphonic Psalm, in Three Parts,
After a Drama by Rene Morax Honegger
For Soprano, Alto, Tenor Soli, Narrator, Chorus, Orchestra, Organ, and Piano
Arthur Honegger was born March 10, 1892, at Havre.
In the Montparnasse quarter of Paris near the rendezvous of artists, the "Cafe de la Rotunde," there came together in 1917, under the watchful eye of the police, a group of painters, sculptors, musicians, and men of letters to escape from the depressing atmosphere of circles in which war was the sole topic of conversation. Durey, Auric, and Honegger were later joined by Milhaud, Poulenc, and Mile. Taillefer, and this group of independents became famous as "The Six." (The title was given them by the critic of Comoedia on the ground that this coterie of six resembled the well-known Russian group of "Five": Boro-dine, Rimsky-Korsakoff, Moussorgsky, Balakireff, and Cui.) Some have pro­fessed to see in the group a common endeavor based on a reaction against impres­sionism, and a return to simplicity. Be that as it may, all branches except church music are represented in the output of this group, which does not pretend to inaugurate a "school," but is merely an association in which each member is free to go his own way in the light of his own ideals and temperament. At the least, this group has achieved considerable publicity and effected a widespread interest in its compositions, which otherwise might have gathered dust for a decade or more.
Honegger's training in music was received first at Havre and then at Zurich. Afterward he went to Paris and entered the Conservatoire as a pupil in compo­sition of Andre Gedalge and Charles Widor. Orchestration, Honegger studied with Vincent d'Indy. His rise to world fame has been meteoric. With his elder contemporaries Ravel, Schonberg, Strawinsky, de Falla, and Prokofieff, he now stands among the few most representative musicians of a new era as one of the important and arresting musicians of the day. This exalted position and world­wide recognition came to Honegger largely through the creation of his King David. In the course of a few months it brought the name of its creator to the attention of the whole musical world. The work is one of astonishing daring, both in the sweep of its conception and in its convincingly eloquent realization. It is music of epic quality, conceived on a massive scale, sometimes chiseled with
meticulous care, and sometimes hewn with careless sweep, but always displaying abundance, vitality, and impetuous inspiration. The written text is treated with respect, and the expressive and musical values of the words are taken into account constantly. Precision of accent, suppleness and vigor, simplicity and nobility, and evocative power lie in the score. It is essentially robust, direct, and healthy music, and these qualities were largely responsible for its almost instantaneous success. In his book Panorama de la Musique C ontemforaine Andre Coeurroy said that the success of King David was in a way psychological. "It appeared at a moment," he writes, "when one was surfeited with an access of airy trifles, of stillborn improvisations. ... It was the hurricane which swept away the dust."
The work is certainly a reflection of the changing norms of artistic expression in music. The tempo and pace of the past three decades of the twentieth century have left their impression on most of the traditional art forms. Poetry, drama, architecture, painting, and sculpture and the dance have undergone changes in subject matter as well as manner of expression. Directness of approach to the essence of idea, boldness of statement, omission of details that are merely decora­tive, condensation and concentration of expression, these are some of the charac­teristics of artistic technical procedure in this century in the fields of the fine arts and music. In the programs of these concerts compositions by contemporary composers have been presented from time to time to indicate the present trends in the art of music. Instrumental music--symphonies, concertos, overtures, ballet music, etc., first exploited the new ideas of boldness and directness, of dissonance in harmony, rhythm, and color; vocal music responded to the new influences slowly and reluctantly. Such a clearly defined and traditional art form as the oratorio especially resisted the intrusion of the new dynamic and dramatic style. Hoist's Hymn to Jesus, Hanson's Lament of Beowulf, Strawinsky's Psalms, and Walton's Belshazzar's Feast are some of the guideposts in the new highway of choral music heard in these concerts. In this relation, King David is interesting and outstanding. The most pretentious of all as to length, the work none the less displays an unbelievable concision and concentration of expression.
The score is not perfect. It suffers from a lack of unity of style, and differs from the usual treatment of the oratorio in the extreme brevity of the choruses. Except for the "Dance before the Ark," the choral psalms take from one to four minutes each. The modernity of King David is at once apparent when one con­trasts this concision of choral writing with the expansive and extensive develop­ment of thematic materials found in the polyphonic choruses of Bach and Handel.
The work is eclectic in nature, however. The classicism of Bach joins hands with the charm of Ravel and Debussy, and with the accents of savagery in Strawinsky. The Introduction, "The Canticle of the Shepherd David" is of
archaic beauty. The opening psalm "All praise to Him, Lord of Glory" is almost Handelian in its simplicity and directness of appeal; it is a triumph of contra­puntal suppleness, showing no artificially determined mannerisms. "God the Lord shall be my Light" is a model of pure harmonic writing where chords interlink with the suave audacity one finds in Debussy. In the processionals and fanfares, there is a decided flavor of Strawinsky "Sacre du Printemps." In such portions describing crowds, Honegger has made successful use of themes that keep their tonal independence (polytonality). He thus creates not only a rare mixture of colors, but a new aural architecture revealing clear planes, distance, and perspective, which gives a third dimensional feeling to the orchestral picture.
In spite of its eclectic nature, and lack of style unification, this striking and exceptionally plastic work is one of the few acknowledged master works of con­temporary music.
In February, 1921, Honegger received a commission from one of the brothers Morax to compose music for a dramatic work which they planned to produce at their Theatre du Jorat, at Mezieres, in Switzerland. This theater had been founded by Rene and Jean Morax in 1903, and its operations had been interrupted by the Great War. It was proposed in 1920 to reopen the theater with a new drama, King David, which had been written by Rene Morax. As music was needed for the work the two brothers applied to a young Swiss composer of their acquaintance. The latter, realizing that only a short time would be given him for the creation of a work which also he felt to be beyond his skill, declined the commission. It was then that Rene Morax con­sulted Ernest Ansermet, the Swiss conductor, who had directed much modern music, particularly that of Strawinsky. Both Ansermet and Strawinsky recom­mended Morax to engage the services of Honegger. As the whereabouts of Honegger was unknown, a letter was confided to the composer's friend Milhaud --one of the prominent members of "The Six"--but it was not until February, 1921, that Milhaud was able to put the commission into his colleague's hands. Honegger began his labors on King David--it was then called "dramatic psalm" --February 25. The projected work had come to the notice of Foetisch, the music publisher of Lausanne, and he came to Paris to secure the composition, which had scarcely been begun, for his firm. He offered Honegger five hundred Swiss francs, which the composer accepted. In two months Honegger completed his incidental music. Although the time given for the production of this work was so short that no other musician would accept the offer, Honegger attacked his problem like the young Michaelangelo of other days, who hewed his colossal David from a block of marble rejected by all others. Working against the restricted time allowed him, he created a score, full of inspiration and free from any traces of improvisation.
The following is a translation in English of the French text of King David made by Edward Agate:
The Narrator
And in those days the Lord spoke to the people of Israel through the mouth of the prophet. And God turned against Saul and spoke to Samuel, saying: Arise, fill thine horn with oil, and go; I will send thee to Jesse the Bethlehemite: for I have provided me a king among his sons. And Samuel arose, and went to Bethlehem, where David was tending his flocks and singing in the fields.
(Contralto Solo)
God shall be my shepherd kind; He will shield me from the wind, Lead His lamb to pastures cool, Guide me to the quiet pool. He shall be my staff and rod,
Restore my spirit again; E'en the darkest vale I trod
Shall not be traveled in pain. He will keep me from alarm,
Though the lightning play around; Save me with His mighty arm, The while, shelter me from harm;
Comfort I have found.
The Narrator
And Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel. And Samuel said: The Lord hath not chosen these.
And Samuel said unto Jesse: Are here all thy children And he said: There remaineth yet the youngest, and behold, he keepeth the sheep. And Samuel said:
Send and fetch him.
And he sent and brought him in. And the Lord said: Arise, anoint him: for this is he.
PSALM (Chorus)
All praise to Him, the Lord of glory,
The everlasting God, my helper.
He has avenged all my wrongs and my woes,
And by His hand my people are made safe.
When hordes of heathens arose up against me,
By His right hand I felt myself sus­tained,
His thunder pealed on the heads of the foe,
Who in their malice sought my end.
(Words after Clement Marot)
The Narrator
And Saul and the men of Israel were gathered together and set the battle in array against the Philistines.
And there went out a champion out of the camp of the Philistines, named Goliath, a giant. And he mocked the Israelites.
And David smote him in the forehead with a stone from his sling. And the Israelites shouted and pursued the Philis­tines even unto the gates of Ekron.
David is great!
The Philistines o'erthrown.
Chosen of God is he, Succored and unafraid. Saul hath slain his thousands, And ten thousands, David!
MARCH The Narrator
And Michal, Saul's daughter, loved David. And the evil spirit from the Lord was upon Saul as he sat in his house with his javelin in his hand, and David played to him. And Saul sought to smite David even to the wall with the javelin. For he was old and David was young and beautiful.
{Tenor Solo)
In the Lord I put my faith, I put my
trust. How say ye unto my soul: "Flee like
any bird unto the mountain" For behold, evil is here, And the wicked bend their bow, That they may privily shoot them that
are clean and upright.
The Narrator
So David fled and escaped, and came to the prophets. And he languished and pined in the heat of the desert. And he bade farewell to Jonathan, who loved him as a brother.
(Sofrano Solo)
O had I wings like a dove,
Then would I fly away and be at rest.
Save in the tomb alone is there no com­fort
Is there no balm to heal this woe of mine
Where shall I find for my head some safe shelter
Morning and eve I pray and cry aloud. The storm of my distress blows like the
tempest, Bearing to God my cries and my prayer.
The Narrator
And Saul sent messengers to take David. And they came to Naioth, in Ramah, and they found him with the company of the prophets, prophesying.
Man that is born of woman lives but a little while.
Whichever way he turn, the path he must pursue
Is heavy to his feet.
He cometh up like grass, which in time shall be mowed down.
He fleeth as a shadow,
And the place that once he knew re­members him no more.
The Narrator Henceforth he must wander in the
wilderness; his heart assailed by want,
by care and weeping.
PSALM (Tenor Solo)
Pity me, Lord, for I am weak! A refuge and harbor I seek.
My weary head Thy wings shall
When will the endless night be over Pity me, Lord, for I am weak! My heart upraise
To hymn Thy bounty all my days! O sun, arise to lead me on, That with my harp, the victory won, I may return to sing a joyful song of praise!
The Narrator
And the Lord delivered Saul into the hands of David. So David came to the people by night; and behold, Saul lay sleeping with a spear at his bolster and
cruse of water at his head. And David feared to destroy the Lord's anointed. So David took the spear and the cruse of water from Saul's bolster; and he gat him away, and no man saw it, nor knew it, neither awaked: for they were all asleep: because a deep sleep from the Lord was fallen upon them.
And war broke out anew between the Philistines and the King of Israel. Saul's army is hard pressed on the steep hill­sides, for the enemy's horses draw near, and David is with the Philistines. The people of Israel call upon the Lord in vain.
God the Lord shall be my light and my
What cause have I to fear God the Lord shall be my strength in
tribulation; His help is ever near. Though wicked enemies came,
My foes who my flesh would fain de­vour, Bright sword and lance they might
claim, Yet they stumble and fall upon that
hour. E'en though an host against me should
I shall not be afraid; From field of war the Lord will hear
my cries, And their arm shall be stayed.
The Narrator
And when Saul saw the host of the Philistines in Shunem, he was afraid, and his heart greatly trembled.
And when Saul inquired of the Lord, the Lord answered him not, neither by dreams nor by prophets.
And his servants said to him: Behold, there is a woman that hath a familiar spirit at En-dor.
And Saul disguised himself, and he went, and two men with him, and they came to the woman by night: and he said, I pray thee, bring me him up whom I shall name unto thee.
Then said the woman: Whom shall I bring up unto thee And he said: Bring me up Samuel.
By fire, by water, by speech and by wind, by sight and by sound, break thy chains, burst the locks which bind thee! Appear! 'Tis time! I call thee from Sheol's darkness. Return, and enter into the temple of nine doors! Appear! Give thy blood! Let the breath of life return to thy nostrils; come from the depths of the earth! Appear!
The fire burns me; the fire below! It enters into me, it searches the marrow of my bones. It pierces me like a sharp sword. Arise! Appear! O why hast thou deceived me for thou art Saul!
The Shade of Samuel Why hast thou disquieted me, to bring me up
The Narrator
And Samuel prophesied to Saul, say­ing: Moreover the Lord will also deliver Israel with thee into the hand of the Philistines.
And Saul fell with his sons in Mount Gilboa. And the men of Israel fled from before the Philistines.
And the Amalekite messenger brought to David the crown and the bracelet of
Saul. Then David rent his clothes, and mourned and wept for Saul, and for Jonathan his son, and for the house of Israel; because they were fallen by the sword.
LAMENT OF GILBOA {Chorus and Soli)
The Narrator {During the Chorus)
The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places; how are the mighty fallen!
Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askelon; lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice.
Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew, neither let there be rain, upon you, nor fields of offerings; for there the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of Saul, as though he had not been anointed with oil.
From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan
turned not back, and the sword of Saul returned not empty.
Saul and Jonathan were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided; they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions.
Ye daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, who clothed you in scarlet, with other delights, who put on ornaments of gold upon your apparel.
How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle! O Jonathan, thou wast slain in thine high places.
I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan; very pleasant hast thou been unto me; thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.
How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perish!
The Daughters of Israel Ha! Ha!
The Narrator
Jerusalem! Jerusalem! David is king! He hath chosen thee to cherish the ark of God. Behold, today it shall be set in the midst of Israel.
Sister, oh sing thy song!
Never hath God forsaken us,
E'en in captivity,
Or in adversity.
Chosen of Him above,
On us now 'lights His love.
God the Lord comes to bless Israel.
The Narrator
And behold, shepherds lead their flocks, the workers in the fields bring their harvest and wine from their vine­yards, and all to the glory of the Lord. O Israel, now get thee to the hill, for all peoples shall receive the blessing of God.
And David played before the Lord and danced before the ark, and the earth shook, even as an harp-string trembleth beneath the hand of a virgin.
Chorus Mighty God! Jehovah, be with us! O radiance of the morn, And the splendor of noon! Mighty God, be with us!
Priests {Before the Ark) Ope wide those doors that lead to
Ope wide those gates that lead to jus­tice!
For the righteous alone enter therein, In those precious portals of God the Lord.
Many nations brought me to war, Yet in Jehovah's name they were de­stroyed ; Compassed me round like bees that
Yet in Jehovah's name they were de­stroyed.
Each withered bush I set on fire, In great Jehovah's name it was de­stroyed ;
For He has shielded me from harm, And His right hand has led me on. Lord above, show Thyself, and scatter all our foes!
Sing to the Lord, sing loud and long! Play on your instruments and dance! Give to the Lord glory and strength! Let the sea roar in its fullness;
Yea, let the fields rejoice for gladness, And the trees of the forest sing praises! In eternal light He abides; He hovers on wings of the wind, And His robe the roof of the earth. Hidden by clouds, there lies His dwell­ing,
And 'mid the tempest He hath spoken. Then magnify the Lord Creator! Praise to the holiest, Saviour of Israel!
Chorus Mighty God! Jehovah, be with us!
The Angel (Sofratio Solo)
Give ear; 'tis not for thee as king To build an house unto My name. Behold, a child is born to thee, And I will set him on thy throne. And he shall be My son, And I will be his Father. Then shall he build an house for My
And Solomon he shall be called, That over Israel peace may reign.
Choir of Angels Alleluia! Alleluia!
Now my voice, in song upsoaring,
Shall loud proclaim my king afar. His wealth of splendor, fast outpouring,
Shall put to nothing e'en the loveliest
of star. Pride of Adam's race that bore thee, '
A simple shepherd, wont to sing, And yet surpassing all before thee,
Thou hast been chosen by the Lord to be our king.
God will send thee sons to cherish, Who shall inherit in their turn; Thy name in glory shall not perish, And all the people as their pastor Shall announce thee master.
The Narrator
And the blessing of God rested upon David's house. All the kings of the earth are united with him, and he is the great­est among them all. But sin entered into
his heart, for it came to pass in an eve-ningtide, that David arose from off his bed, and walked upon the roof of the king's house: and from the roof he saw a woman washing herself; and the wo­man was Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite; and she was very beautiful to look upon. And David took Bathsheba to wife, and killed her husband Uriah the Hittite with the sword. And Bathsheba bare a son; but the thing that David had done displeased the Lord. And the Lord struck the child, and on the seventh day he died.
Pity me, God, in my distress! Turn not away, but heal me again! Wash me of sin and cleanse of shame, And in Thy hot displeasure, O chasten me not!
The Narrator
And the Lord sent Nathan unto David to reprove him for his sin.
{Chorus) ¦ ' Behold, in evil I was born, And in iniquity conceived. For Thou desirest truth and goodness, And in the hidden part great wisdom. I have sinned, yea, heavily transgressed. I have been shown the path to follow, And I have wandered from Thy foot­steps.
Pity me, God, in my distress! Pardon, Lord, the evil I have done!
The Narrator
And the wrath of the Lord fell upon David's house. For a brother had rav­ished his sister, and a brother killed his
brother. And Absalom, David's well be­loved son, rose up against his father, and David escaped and sought the desert.
PSALM {Tenor Solo)
O shall I raise mine eyes unto the moun­tains,
From whence should come my help
The Lord shall guide thy steps, going and coming,
From henceforth, evermore.
He will not suffer thy foot to be moved,
For He is on high, watching above;
The Lord who is thy keeper neither slumbers nor sleeps.
The Narrator
So the people went out into the field against Israel; and the battle was in the wood of Ephraim. And Joab slew Absa­lom, whose head was caught in the thick boughs of a great oak.
And when the king heard of it he was much moved, and went up into his chamber and wept.
The Narrator
And David signaled with his hand, and the army stood still. And David said: Ye warriors of Israel, ye are my brethren, ye are my bones and my flesh. Ye have established peace in the land. Receive my thanks!
The Narrator
His enemies o'erthrown, David sings a grateful song unto the Lord.
PSALM {Chorus)
Thee will I love, O Lord, who art my fortress,
Thou art my shield, the horn of my
God is my refuge safe; I trust in Him, My rock, my strength, my tower and
my deliverer. In Him I find the solace that I long
for; He guideth my steps, that I may walk
in comfort.
I call on Him and invoke His aid, And I am saved from my strong enemy. When waves of death encompassed me, And snares of men made me afraid, Then did He send, and take me from
And drew me forth out of many waters. (Words after Clement Marot)
The Narrator
And David waxed old in his palace of cedar and gold. And Satan stood up against Israel, and provoked David to number the people. So the Lord sent pestilence upon Israel; and He sent an angel unto Jerusalem to destroy it.
And David proclaimed Solomon, the son of Bathsheba, king over Israel and over Judah. And when Nathan had
crowned Solomon, David looked on the temple for the last time.
And Nathan said: Before all Israel and before Jehovah we anoint as king Solomon, the son of David. And the people shouted: God save King Solo­mon!
The Narrator
And David said: The spirit of God is within me. One cometh after me to lead my people in the fear of the Lord. O how good it was to live! I thank thee, God, Thou who gavest me life.
The Angel (Soprano Solo)
And God said: The day shall dawn To bring a flower, newly born,
From thy stem in fullness growing, In fragrance sweet, night and morn, All my people shall adorn,
With breath of life bestowing.
Choir of Angels Alleluia! Alleluia!
Symphonic Poem, "The Moldau" Smetana
Friedrich Smetana was born at Leitomischl, March 2, 1824; died at Prague, March 12, 1884.
Two springs pour forth their streams in the shade of the Bohemian forest, the one warm and gushing, the other cold and tranquil. Their waves, joyfully flowing over their rocky beds, unite and sparkle in the morning sun. The forest brook, rushing by, becomes the "Moldau" which, with its waters speeding through Bohemia's valleys, grows into a mighty stream. It flows through dense woods, in which are heard the joyous sounds of the hunt, and the notes of the hunter's horn are heard ever nearer and nearer. It flows through emerald meadows and lowlands where there is being celebrated, with song and dancing, a wedding feast. At night in its shining waves the wood and water nymphs hold
their revels, and in these waves are reflected many a fortress and castle, wit­nesses of bygone splendor of chivalry and the vanished martial fame of days that are no more. At the rapids of St. John the stream speeds on, winding its way through cataracts and hewing the path for its foaming waters through the rocky chasm into the broad riverbed in which it flows on in its majestic calm toward Prague, welcomed by time-honored Vysehrad to disappear in the far distance from the poet's gaze.
Smetana's position in his own country is unique among musicians. Neither Chopin or Grieg have quite the same powerful national significance. His works are permeated with the spirit of national life in its widest sense. By his deter­mined optimism and farsightedness, he made his art a wonderful stimulus to a rebirth of national feeling. Through his music, Smetana made himself a national hero. He revealed through it a stimulating optimism and made his people aware of their great spirit. Art can never live merely by pessimism, skepticism, and sadness. For that reason mankind has always considered its special benefac­tion to be artists who have been able to infuse human souls with gladness, and life with joy. In this respect the nineteenth century never saw a greater genius than Smetana. Since Mozart's time there has not been a composer who, with such refined art, and such alluring freshness, could delight the world with such warm, frank, and genial art as Smetana. His life, unfortunately, gave to him few of the gifts he bestowed upon his countrymen and upon all humanity. Rivaling Mozart as a child prodigy, his early youth gave promise of a brilliant and happy future. But in later years his life was full of tragic experiences. At the age of fifty, he, like Beethoven, became totally deaf. He bore this blow with patient courage, but his health began to fail. Depression settled deeply in his soul, and soon he disclosed symptoms of mental collapse. Attacked now by hideous delusions, his memory gave way, and he died in an asylum for the insane at Prague, in utter eclipse of mind. And on the shores of the mighty Moldau, which he immortalized in his music, he lies buried.
Aria, "Caro Nome" ("Rigoletto") Verdi
Mary Moore
Giuseppe Verdi was born October 9, 1813, at Roncole; died January 17, 1904, at Milan.
Rigoletto may be classified as the starting point of Verdi's second stage of development. In this work he seemed to have turned definitely away from the type of "carnival operas" of which Ernani is the best, to a more serious and sub­stantial style exemplified in Rigoletto, II Trovatore, and La Traviata, works
?Vysehrad is an ancient fortress in the vicinity of Prague. Smetana is buried in its cemetery.
which gave Verdi a permanent place in the roster of composers of Italian opera. From the date of the first performance of Rigoletto (1851) until his death, his career was one of cumulative triumph, both in popular favor and in recognition of artistic merit.
If in Rigoletto we do not see the Verdi of A'ida we meet a greater composer than the creator of Trovatore. If on the dramatic side we discover lapses from logical development and coherent statement, on the musical side we discover fully as much that is prophetic of the higher flights of later years, as that which is reminiscent of points of view he had outgrown even then.
The story of Rigoletto, even in these days when brutal realism and the "cult of the ugly" dominate some aesthetic horizons, and are familiar to all as subject matter in literature and drama, is one so disgusting in its rehearsal of murder, seduction, revenge, passion, as motives for human action, as to be out of place as a framework for the beautiful music which makes up this opera. Like Mozart, Verdi rises superior to the trivialities of plot and text. His music was a lyric expression in formal patterns, beautiful in and of itself.
The aria, "Caro Nome," is sung by Gilda at the end of Act I, just after the duke in the disguise of a young student has left her in the garden. With his name upon her lips, she sings of her love and swears eternal faithfulness to him.
Aria, "Io son Titania" ("Mignon") Thomas
Miss Moore
Charles-Louis Ambroise Thomas was born at Metz, August 5, 1811; died at Paris, February 12, 1896.
Ambroise Thomas is known to the world at large as the composer of Mignon (opera comique, Paris, November 17, 1866) and Hamlet (opera, Paris, March 9, 1869). Twenty other dramatic works, three of which are ballets, stand to his credit. His work as an opera composer represents but part of his activity, for in 1871 he was elected to Spontini's chair in the Academic
The book of Mignon is by Michel Carre and Jules Barbier, the incidents of the plot being drawn chiefly from episodes in Goethe's novel Wilhelm Meister's Lehrjahre. Proceeding after the manner of their treatment of Faust for Gounod, done a few years before, the librettists constructed a romantic play out of the Mignon incidents, which were only of subordinate interest in the novel. The Mignon of Carre and Barbier bears but little more than external resem­blance to Goethe's Mignon; as the young girl stolen by gypsies, she "is the embodiment of pathos, and the exemplar of the cantabile style," as is to be noted in her aria, "Connais-tu le pays." Filina, an actress, to whom is assigned the aria on tonight's program, "I am fair Titania," is a perfect prototype for an
operatic character of the Leggiera class, and the music of her role forms a strik­ing contrast to that sung by Mignon. It occurs in Scene II of Act II when Filina, in the flush of her triumph (having won the affection of the handsome student Wilhelm Meister) sings of her own charms and likens herself to Titania, Queen of the Fairies.
Waltz, from Suite "Ruses d'Amour," Op. 61 ... Glazounow
Alexander Glazounow was born at St. Petersburg, August 10, 1865.
Although Alexander Glazounow is partly a disciple of the new Russian school, he is separated from Rimsky-Korsakoff and Moussorgsky by his prefer­ence for classical forms in music. His art preserves the structural values of a more classical style than is found in his early contemporaries. Although his music is not remarkable for its richness or variety, it is decidedly melodious, and his harmony distinctive, original, and full of picturesque suggestion. Even while moving within the limits of conventional form, Glazounow's music is constantly suggesting to the imagination some echo from the world of actuality, but his realism, unlike that of Moussorgsky, is delicately veiled. He is unique in one respect--as the only Russian composer who has been seriously dominated by Brahms.
Of the four works which Glazounow wrote for the wonderful ballet stage of old Russia, Russes £ Amour is the favorite. Its story is that of a young duchess betrothed to a chap she does not know--poor but honest, of course. She changes clothes and places with her maid. The youngster falls in love with the pseudo-maid, and happiness settles down forever on both, despite the cold fact that he was a bungling diplomat if he was fooled by the makeup.
In this waltz, the young marquis of the ballet scenes dances with the sup­posed Marinette. There is an introduction of twenty-eight measures before the theme of the waltz is announced by the first clarinet (Allegro, E-flat major, 3-4 time). A second idea is heard in the violins, fassionato, after which the first theme (2-4 time) in the violas and violoncellos, which forms the introduction, comes back in the strings. In the trio (A-flat major) the false duchess dances awkwardly, as one unaccustomed to the grace of courts. The theme is heard in the wood wind with pizzicato chords of the lower strings. Marinette also dances to an expressive melody played by all the strings. The first part then returns, and there is a coda.
Aria, "Bell Song" ("Lakme") Delibes
Mary Moore
Clement Delibes was born February 21, 1836, at St. Germain-du-Val; died January 16, 1891, at Paris.
The apprentice years of Delibes' training were spent in work under the leading masters of the Conservatoire, which he entered in 1848. His journey­man stage dates from 1853, when he became connected with the Theatre Lyrique, and officiated as organist at the Church of St. Jean et St. Frangois. In 1855 he produced a brilliant operetta, and during the interim between that date and 1866 he evolved into the master. His greatest opera, Lakme, was produced in Paris in 1883, but before that he had written some clever and popular ballets which still maintain the boards.
The libretto of Lakme written by Edward Condinet and Philippe Gille, was taken from a story, "Le Mariage de Loti," which appeared in the Nouvelle Revue in the eighties. This may be, but an opera, Das Sonnenfest der Brah-minen, given by Marinelli in 1790, traverses the same ground with a similarity of detail that indicates it as the source of the above-mentioned story.
The aria on tonight's program takes place at the beginning of Act II. Nila-kantha, a Brahman priest, who hates the English invaders and resents their pres­ence in India, is disguised as a beggar to discover who had ventured on the sacred ground near his temple and had spoken to his daughter Lakme. Lakme is with him, and is wearing the dress of a dancing girl. He orders her to sing, hoping that the Englishman will recognize her voice and betray himself.
The following is a free translation and condensation of the aria:
A lovely pariah maiden roams in the woods amid the tender-leaved mimosas, spread in the pale moonlight. Over the forest moss she flies, past the gleaming laurels, dreaming of fairyland, and laughing at the night. Within the deep and sombre forest a youth has lost his way, and from the shadows wild beasts spring out upon him. The maiden flies to shield the stricken youth. And on her wand, the silver bells resound and wield a charm. In wonder they look at each other and he whispers "Be blest and calm, I am Vishnu, the son of Brahm." And since that day is sometimes heard, stirred by a light low breeze, the silver bells, where came a maiden once amid the tender-leaved mimosas, with her charm.
Friday Afternoon, May 17
Overture to "Die Entfuhrung aus dem Serail" .... Mozart
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born January 27, 1756, at Salzburg; died December 5, 1791, at Vienna.
The composition of Die Entfuhrung aus dem Serail was made by Mozart in deference to a desire on the part of the Emperor Joseph to found a national German opera. The Grand Duke Paul of Russia was expected to visit Vienna in September, 1781, and Mozart was commissioned to have his opera ready for the festivities that were to take place on that occasion. It was already the last day of July when the composer received his text from the librettist Stephanie, inspector of the Vienna opera.
"Yesterday young Stephanie gave me a book for composition," Mozart wrote to his father on August 1. "It is very good, the subject is Turkish, and it is called Belmont and Constanze, or Die Entfuhrung aus dem Serail. The over­ture, the chorus in the first act, and the concluding chorus I shall compose in Turkish music The time given is short, certainly, for it is to be performed in the middle of September, but the attendant circumstances will be all the more favorable. And, indeed, everything combines to raise my spirits, so that I hasten to my writing table with the greatest eagerness, and it is with difficulty that I tear myself away."
The first act was finished August 22, but at the beginning of the following month word was received that the Grand Duke would not visit Vienna until November. That personage did arrive then, but Mozart's opera was put aside to make room for productions of Gluck's Alceste and Ifhigenia. It is evident that the composer was disheartened by this alteration in the arrangements. He made no haste to complete his opera. It was still unfinished when the Grand Duke appeared on the scene; was still unfinished in the spring of the following year.
The Viennese court was dominated by Italian influences. The Emperor pre?Turkish music--called in German "Janitscharenmusik"--was the name formerly given to per­cussion instruments in the orchestra--the bass drum, cymbals, and triangle. The band of the Janissaries--the Janissaries were for centuries the bodyguard of the Turkish sultans--also con­tained, in addition to the instruments of percussion, a piccolo and oboes. The bodyguard was abolished in 1825, the Sultan of Turkey having realized that the regiment had become of enor­mous proportions and of uncertain temper. The Janissaries did indeed rise in rebellion against their master, and 25,000 of them paid with their lives the penalty for their abortive attempt to gain control.
[ 35 ]
ferred Italian music to that of any other nation, and the principal positions in his gift were held by musicians who came to Vienna from the south. Yet Joseph II perceived, even if he did not fully understand, the astonishing genius that was the possession of Mozart. "C'est un talent decide," he remarked on one occa­sion. And the Italian musicians perceived that genius, too; and every impedi­ment was put by them in the path of its exploitation. It required the express command of the Emperor to overcome the cabals of Salieri and his followers, and to bring Die Entjiihrung aus dem Serail to its first performance, July 16, 1782. "The house was crammed full," wrote Mozart, "and there was no end to the applause and cheering, and performances followed each other in quick succession." A second performance was given three days later. "Can you believe it," wrote the composer to his father, "that the opposition was even stronger than on the first evening. The whole of the first act was drowned, but they could not prevent the bravos after every song." In this letter Mozart records the fact that "the theater was almost more crowded than on the first performance; the day before not a seat was to be had." The general verdict was overwhelmingly in favor of Mozart, and was a justification of the Emperor's hope of founding German opera. Yet the imperial amateur was not quite sure that his hopes had been realized. "Too fine for our ears, and an immense number of notes, my dear Mozart," he said to the composer. Mozart's reply was worthy of his genius. "Just as many notes, Your Majesty, as are necessary." From Vienna the fame of the new work traveled with great speed. It was given at Prague with enor­mous success in 1783, in Leipzig the same year, in Mannheim, Cassel, and on numberless other stages.
The autograph score of Die Entjilhrung aus dem Serail, in three volumes, was given by Mozart to his sister-in-law, Mme. Hofer, and after passing through various hands it fell into the possession of Paul Mendelssohn-Bartholdy.
The story of the opera is concerned with the loves of Constance and Belmont. The former, together with her maid Blondchen, and Pedrillo, the servant of Belmont, are captured by Corsairs and sold as slaves to the Turkish pasha, Selim, who takes Con­stance for himself and gives Blondchen to his overseer, Osmin. Pedrillo, who is ordered to work in the garden, contrives to send news of their misfortune to his master. Mean­while the pasha seeks vainly to gain the affections of his captive, whose fidelity to Belmont is not to be shaken. Disguised as an artist Belmont enters the pasha's village and he, together with his companions, endeavors to escape from the seraglio. All four
?The date given by Otto Jahn is July 12. Antonio Salieri (1750-1825) was the favorite composer of Joseph II. Many of his operas--there were some forty of them--were greatly admired by the Viennese public as well as by the Emperor. Salieri, who was the teacher of a number of composers who later became distinguished (they included Beethoven and Schubert), undoubtedly intrigued against Mozart, who, when he died in 1791, believed--without justification--Salieri to have poisoned him.
are recaptured and brought before the pasha. Constance boldly explains that Belmont is her lover and that she will die with him rather than leave him. Selim, overcome by emotion, retires to consider what is to be done, and the prisoners prepare for death. The pasha, touched, however, by such constancy, gives them their freedom and, pro­viding them with the means of return to their own country, asks only their friendship as reward.
The overture is scored for piccolo, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, two horns, two trumpets, kettledrums, bass drum, cymbals, triangle, and strings. Of this introduction to the opera Mozart wrote, that "it was short" and that "it alternates between forte and fiano, the Turkish music being always forte, modulated by changes of key, and I do not think anyone can go to sleep over it, even if they have lain awake all the night before."
In its original form the overture leads directly into the opening scene of the opera--Belmont's air, "Hier soil ich dich denn sehen, Constanze"--but in order to fit it for concert performance, endings have been made by various editors. That played on this occasion is by Ferruccio Busoni.
The principal theme (Presto, C major, 2-2 time) is given out by the strings. After eight measures the full orchestra enters forte with the "Turkish music," the two divisions of the theme being then repeated. What answers to the second theme appears later with the bassoons and violoncellos in G major. This subject, however, is derived from the "Turkish Music," and Mozart does not give it the usual recapitulation at the close. The section ordinarily devoted to development is employed for an entirely new theme (Andante, C minor, 3-8 time), four measures of which are given out by the strings, followed by another and similar phrase presented by the woodwind. The sub­ject of this part is drawn from the aria, previously referred to, with which the first scene of the opera opens. There, however, it is in a major and not in a minor key. The third part of the overture commences with a Recapitulation of the opening theme.
The Linden Tree Schubert
Now is the Month of Maying Morley
Fa la nana bambin (Sung in Italian) Sadero
Young People's Festival Chorus
The Linden Tree Schubert
Close by the old stone fountain There stands a linden tree; Beneath its peaceful shadows, Sweet dreams have come to me.
Into its bark I've carven A vow of love so true. And still in joy or sorrow I'll always dream of you.
Today my fancy wandered Nearby in still of night. I closed my eyes in dreaming To hide it from my sight.
But still its branches whispered And called as if to me, Come back to me, my dearest, Oh come, here's rest for thee.
The icy winds of winter My face did wildly burn, They tore my hat asunder Yet never would I turn.
But I afar have wandered, Far from the linden tree And still I hear it sighing Come back, come back to me.
Now is the Month of Maying Morley
Now is the month of Maying, When merry lads are playing,
Fa la la!
Each with his bonny lass Upon the greeny grass
Fa la la!
The spring clad all in gladness Doth laugh at winter's sadness
Fa la la!
And to the bagpipes sound,
The nymphs tread out their ground.
Fa la la!
Fie then! Why sit we musing Youths sweet delight refusing
Fa la la!
Say, dainty nymphs, and speak, Shall we play barley break
Fa la la!
Fa la nana bambin (Sune in Italian) Sadero
Rock-a-by, oh baby mine,
Rock-a-by, oh baby mine,
In the soft arms of thy mother,
In the soft arms of thy mother.
Rock-a-by, Rock-a-by
For thy mother is here,
And thy father soon will come,
Rock-a-by, Rock-a-by.
In the soft arms of thy mother, Rock-a-by.
And if father does not come, Then thy mother sore will weep, But my baby will not know, For he peacefully will sleep. Hush-a-by, hush-a-by. Rock-a-by, baby mine, Rock-a-by, oh baby mine.
Symphony, C major, "Le Midi" (B and H, No. 7) ... Hadyn Adagio--Allegro; Adagio; Adagio; Minuetto; Finale Joseph Haydn was born March 31, 1732, at Rohrau; died May 31, 1809, at Vienna.
Five years before the birth of Haydn in 1732, Alexander Pope had written the first version of the Dunciad. When Haydn died in 1809, Walter Scott had just finished Marmion, while William Wordsworth was thirty-nine years of age and had eleven years before published his Romantic Manifesto in the Lyrical Ballads. Haydn saw the birth and death of Mozart and lived until Beethoven was thirty-nine years of age.
In the seventy-seven years of his life, Haydn had witnessed and helped shape the great classic tradition in musical composition, and had lived to see his formal and serene classic world sink under the surging tide of Romanticism. He, himself, however, played no part nor reflected in his art that period of deep unrest at the end of the eighteenth century that resulted in the literary and philosophical insur­rection of which Goethe in Germany and Rousseau in France were representa­tive. Rousseau and the "Sturm und Drang" period in Germany had announced that an old civilization had broken up, and that a new one was about to appear. Swift progression was seething all over Europe; Beethoven had caught this spirit in his Eroica Symphony (1805) and the Appassionata Sonata (1806). But Haydn, living with his memories and gathering the few last laurels that were thrown at his feet, heard only the faintest echoes of these great works which tore at the very roots of musical expression and rent the whole fabric of musical forms.
The bombshells of Napoleon's army could be heard by Haydn as he lay dying near Vienna. He mitigated his servants' fear by confidently saying "There can come no evil where Haydn is," and, calling upon all of his strength, he seated himself at his clavichord and played his Austrian hymn, "God Save the Em­peror," through three times. A few days later he was dead, and with him dis­appeared the even tenor and calm serenity of existence, so beautifully symbolized by his own life and so confidently expressed in his music. With Haydn died the classical tradition in music.
Music was late in responding to the violent note of revolt against tradition for the sake of emotion, chiefly because music in the eighteenth century was in a transitional state of technical development and was attempting to gain articula­tion and freedom through the cultivation of forms and designs that were unique to it. The opposition between classic and romantic principles in the second half of the eighteenth century, for this reason, was not as clearly defined in music as in literature. Haydn represents this period in music history; he systematized musical forms and he secularized expression. Not only did he realize the unique powers of music as an art in itself and evolve new forms, but he was the first composer to achieve the glorification of the natural music which exists in the hearts of the people, by elevating its essentially healthy and vigorous qualities into the realm of high art. It is beyond controversy that of the great masters of the German genius epoch, Haydn was the first to make himself intelligible to the masses. He spoke a musical language that appealed with the same directness to the skilled artist as to the merest layman. He disseminated his art among all. He was its true secularizer; he brought it to earth.
In his music every thought takes on a grace of form. With a wholeness of impression, there is a lucidity in details, a neatness and elegance, and a perfect ease and clearness in the exposition of his ideas. All who enjoy clear writing,
[39 3
who rejoice to see expression achieved within the limits of graceful certainty, can feel comfortable with Haydn. He is always consistent, if not greatly original. His materials are used with strict economy; his perception is shrewd and business­like. He saw things simply, but he saw them well, and he recorded his impres­sions frankly, honestly, and without clouding them with too much imagination.
Fancy Beethoven going to see Dr. Herschel's great telescope, looking through it at the stars, and then writing in his diary, as Haydn did, "It is forty feet long and five feet in diameter!" Beethoven might have recorded the glories of the heavens.
In Haydn's music we find an accountantlike accuracy, a symmetry, a fine sense of structure, and, above all, gaiety and humor. He is never introspective and his music is never subjective. He does not, in the Ossianic phrase, indulge in the "luxury of grief." He catches, rather, the harmony, the joy of nature, and we enjoy him as we do an easy conversation, or a morning walk, or the objective beauty that lies in any object's shape or color. His beauty is direct and obvious. There are those who believe there is more in the beauty of nature than can be perceived immediately, that nature is more than merely refreshing. For them Beethoven has written. Haydn's one theme is the charm, the worth, and the beauty of reality at the moment. His music does not attempt to express the passionate, striving soul, but rather the calm soul that finds joy and satisfaction in what it knows it already possesses.
This C-major Symphony was the first which Haydn composed after he had been appointed in 1761 the director of the small orchestra at Prince Paul Anton Esterhazy's establishment at Eisenstadt. Eisenstadt was the country seat of the Esterhazy's, six miles distant from Vienna. It was a little place of about 5,000 inhabitants, dominated topographically, as well as socially, by the palace of Haydn's princely employers. The aggregation of musicians employed by the princes was not a large one. It numbered fourteen men, of whom five were violinists, one a violoncellist, one a contra-bassist, one a flutist, two oboists, two bassoonists, and two hornists. A little more than a year after Haydn's appoint­ment, Prince Paul died and was succeeded by his brother Nicolaus, who, even more than his brother, was devoted to the arts. We know from a letter written by Haydn to his friend Griesinger how great became Haydn's opportunities when he undertook the direction of Prince Nicolaus' orchestral music. "My prince," he wrote, "was satisfied with all my labors; I received applause; as director of the orchestra I could make experiments, observe the result of them, perceive that which was weak, then rectify it, add, take away. I was cut off from the world; no one in my vicinity knew me or could make me go wrong or annoy me, so I was forced to become original."
No sooner had Haydn received Prince Nicolaus' sanction to put the orchestra
on a new footing than he busied himself in making his little organization as well equipped as possible from the physical side. He drew up specifications for the repair of the various instruments, for the purchase of new music desks, new compositions, music paper. He put discipline into the ranks of the players, who previously had adopted a nonchalant attitude to their duties. There were numer­ous rehearsals instituted, and, after having laid a firm foundation upon which to build, Haydn began those contributions to symphonic literature which he was destined to continue for more than forty years. The symphony known as "Le Midi" ("The Afternoon") was the first of the numerous symphonies which were written for the Esterhazy orchestra. We know from the manuscript of the work, still preserved at the Haydn Museum at Eisenstadt, that the master wrote at least the first movement of it in 1761, the year of his appointment to the position of subdirector by Prince Paul Anton. Haydn was accustomed throughout his career to mingle his religious fervor with his creative accomplish­ments; so at the beginning of "Le Midi" there stands the superscription "In Nomine Domini," and at the end, "Laus Deo." The symphony was scored something after the fashion of the older concerti--as, for example, Handel's Concerti Grossi or the Bach Concerto on Friday evening's concert (see pg. 47) in which were a group of solo instruments, known as the concertino, and the main body of instrumentalists, called the "ripieno," which reinforced the general ensemble whenever that was necessary.
The exact date of the first performance of the C-major symphony is un­known; the work was published (in Hamburg) in 1782.
I. The symphony begins {Adagio, C major, 4-4 time) with an Introduction ten measures in length, this leading without pause into the main movement {Allegro, C major, 3-4 time), whose principal theme is given out vigorously by the strings:
There is a short transitional passage for the concertante strings leading to the second subject, thus set forth by the violoncello:
Kn 1
A little bustling coda which follows brings the Exposition to an end. The Develop­ment opens with a working out of the principal theme (No. i) in the strings, and there is some episodical matter which soon is succeeded by the Recapitulation, whose principal subject is given out, as before, in the strings, but with rather fuller instru­mentation in the wind instruments. The second theme is given to the violoncello, as in the Exposition, but now it is in C major instead of G major. The coda is slightly modified.
II. Adagio, C minor, 4-4 time. This is a short movement serving as an intro­ duction to the slow movement proper which follows. It consists for the most part of the ascending broken chord figure in the strings with which it begins, interspersed with recitatives for a solo violin.
III. Adagio, G major, 4-4 time. The principal theme opens as follows:
Soon this is followed by a second subject in D major, announced by two oboes and the strings. The first theme is worked over, and episodical matter is heard. At the close there is a cadenza for violin and violoncello.
IV. Menuetto. Con Tnoto, C major,'3-4 time. The subject of the Minuet is presented vigorously by the strings, woodwind, and horns. A short quotation is made:
No. 4
Con moto
The Trio, also in C major, has the following, heard in the violoncello, for its theme:
No. 5 ¦ ¦ . .
After the Trio has been heard the first part (Minuet) is repeated. [42]
V. Allegro, C major, 2-4 time. The strings present the opening phrase of the principal subject:
No. 6
After a bustling passage in octaves for the strings the second theme appears in G major, and a short coda closes the exposition, which is repeated. The Development begins with a working out of the first subject (No. 6) partly in the strings and partly in the winds. The Development is short and the Recapitulation is regular. The symphony ends vigorously.
Cantata, "Jumblies" James
Young People's Festival Chorus
Dorothy James was born in Chi­cago, Illinois, December I, I go I.
Although Jumblies is Miss James' only attempt at children's cantata (the major part of her work being cast into larger forms), she has brought to this work a simplicity of style, an iridescent instrumentation, a whimsical and poetic imagination, and a naive humor, and has caught with apparent spontaneity and directness those qualities which characterize the delightful verse of Edward Lear.
Miss James is one of the foremost women composers in America today. A pupil of Adolf Weidig and Howard Hanson, she has developed an individual style which reflects an unusual blend of deep musical feeling and introspection, with sparkle and brilliance. Her style is conservatively modern, marked by an impressionism that has been vitalized by modern harmonic and rhythmic devices.
The text of Jumblies is as follows:
They went to sea in a sieve, they did;
In a sieve they went to sea;
In spite of all their friends could say
On a winter's morn, on a stormy day,
In a sieve they went to sea.
And when the sieve turned round and
round, And everyone cried, "You'll all be
drowned!" They called aloud, "Our sieve ain't big;
But we don't care a button, we don't
care a fig; In a sieve we'll go to sea!"
Far and few, far and few
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands
are blue And they went to sea in a sieve.
They sailed away in a sieve, they did;
In a sieve they sailed so fast,
With only a beautiful pea-green veil
Tied with a ribbon by way of a sail,
To a small tobacco-pipe mast,
And everyone said who saw them go:
"Oh, won't they be soon upset you
know For the sky is dark and the voyage is
long; And happen what may it's extremely
wrong In a sieve to sail so fast."
The water it soon came in, it did,
The water it soon came in;
So, to keep them dry, they wrapped their
In pinky paper all folded neat, And they fastened it down with a pin. They passed the night in a crockery jar, And each one said: "How wise we are! Though the sky be dark and the voyage
long Yet we never can think we were rash or
wrong, While round and round in our sieve we
And all night long they sailed away;
And when the sun went down,
They whistled and warbled a moony
To the echoing sound of a coppery gong, In the shade of mountains brown"O Timballoo! How happy arehve When we live in a sieve and a crockery
And all night long in the moonlight pale We sail away in a pea-green sail In the shade of the mountains brown."
They sailed to the western sea, they did,
To a land all covered with trees.
And they bought an owl and a useful
cart, And a pound of rice and a cranberry
And a hive of silvery bees; And they bought a pig, and some green
And a lively monkey with lollipop paws, And forty bottles of ringboree, And no end of Stilton cheese.
In twenty years they all came back,
In twenty years or more;
And everyone said, "How tall they've
grown! For they've been to the Lakes and the
Torrible Zone,
And the hills of Chanklcy Bore." And they drank their health and gave
them a feast
Of dumplings made of beautiful yeast; And everyone said: "If we only live, We, too, will go to the sea in a sieve To the hills of Chankley Bore."
Concerto for Violin and Orchestra, D major, Op. 35 . Tchaikowsky Allegro moderato; Canzonetta--Andante; Finale--Allegro vivacissimo.
Ruth Posselt
Peter Hitch Tchaikowsky was born at Wotkinsk, May 7, 1840; died at Petrograd, November 6, 1893.
As in the case of Brahms, Mendelssohn, and Beethoven, a single concerto for violin is Tchaikowsky's contribution to the literature for violin virtuosi. Al[44]
though completed in the spring of 1878 with the assistance of Kotek, a violinist who was visiting the composer at Clarens, almost four years elapsed before the work was given a public performance. Tchaikowsky had dedicated the concerto to Leopold Auer,--the celebrated teacher of the performer of the composition on this occasion--who was then the principal teacher of violin at the Petrograd Conservatory. On account of the difficulties of the solo part, the famous virtuoso could not bring himself to undertake a presentation of the work.
Brodsky, a concert artist of considerable reputation and a teacher of violin at the Moscow Conservatory with which Tchaikowsky also was connected as instructor in composition, produced the Concerto for the first time in Vienna at a concert of the Philharmonic Society, Hans Richter conducting. The result of the performance was indecisive, since there had been only one rehearsal and the orchestra accompanied -pianissimo throughout, so that if anything went wrong the effect would be less displeasing. The reviewers of the work were almost unanimous in its condemnation, though there had been much applause at the concert. The criticism which hurt the composer most, when in Italy he chanced on reviews of the performance of which he had been totally unaware, was written by Hanslick and published in the Neue Freie Presse of Vienna. It would seem from the following that Hanslick had neither sympathy for Russian music in general, nor respect for Tchaikowsky:
The violin is no longer played, it is yanked about, it is torn asunder, beaten black and blue. I do not know whether it is possible for any one to conquer these harassing difficulties, but I do know that Mr. Brodsky martyrized his hearers as well as himself.
For several paragraphs the reviewer continued in this vein, seeming to go out of his way to discover phrases of opprobrium to cast at this work.
The fact that the concerto has since made a "triumphal progress," through the concert halls of Europe and America and has been interpreted by the greatest virtuosi (only those of supreme technical powers can essay it) is significant proof that the initial verdict of the Vienna critics was neither final nor just.
The concise analysis which appeared in the program book of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, on the occasion of Mr. Elman's performance of the con­certo in that city, is offered for those interested in the technical study of the contents of the composition:
I. (Allegro moderate, D major, 4-4 time.) The subject, which in the first violins opens the work, is not the true principal theme. This, after some suggestions from the orchestra, appears (Moderate) assai) in the solo instrument. There follows much bril­liant passage-work, and the second subject, also played by the solo violin, is heard in
A major. Succeeding some episodical material the Development begins in the orchestra with a working out of the first subject. The solo instrument interpolates a considerable amount of passage-work, and there is a further working out by the orchestra of the principal theme which leads to a long and elaborate cadenza for the solo violin. At its conclusion the Recapitulation is taken up, and there is a brilliant coda (Allegro giusto).
II. Canzonetta (Andante, G minor, 3-4 time).
This movement is not the one originally composed for the concerto, but an after­thought, written on account of Tchaikowsky's dissatisfaction with his first attempt. After twelve measures of introductory material played by the woodwind the violin brings forward (Molto esfressivd) the first theme. Following this the solo instrument presents a second idea in E-flat major, and a triplet figure which finally leads to a return of the first theme, still in the violin, with arpeggios for the clarinet accompanying it. The material of the introductory measures returns, and leads without pause into the finale.
III. (Allegro vivacissimo, D major, 2-4 time.)
This is in reality a Russian dance, the trepak, the principal theme of which is not announced until sixteen measures of orchestral prelude and a cadenza for the solo violin have been brought forward. The subject is then heard in the solo instrument. The movement becomes rather more tranquil, and on a drone bass the violin puts forth the second theme in A, after which the first subject returns, and there is development. The second theme appears in D major, and the movement comes to a conclusion with a long and frenzied coda, the material of which is taken from the opening theme.
The discarded movement was later published (1878) as the first of a group of three violin pieces entitled "Souvenir d'un lieu cher" and numbered Opus 42.
Friday Evening, May 17
Concerto, No. 3, G major, for String Orchestra Bach
Allegro; Andante; Presto
Johann Sebastian Bach was born at Eisenach, March 21, 1685; died at Leipzig, July 28, 1750.
Christian Ludwig Markgraf of Brandenberg was a Prussian prince who lived about two centuries ago. He loved music so much that he spent a good part of his fortune on it. This eccentric Markgraf had a fetish for concerti, and had acquired a most remarkable collection of them by famous contemporary composers. He is supposed to have met Bach in Carlsbad about 1719 and to have commissioned him to write some music. Bach leisurely fulfilled the com­mission and on March 24, 1721, he presented the Markgraf with a set of six works, now known as the Brandenberg Concerti, with the following touchingly modest dedication in French:
Two years ago, when I had the honour of playing before your Royal Highness, I experienced your condescending interest in the insignificant musical talents with which heaven has gifted me, and understood your Royal Highness' gracious willing­ness to accept some pieces of my composition. In accordance with that condescending command, I take the liberty to present my most humble duty to your Royal Highness in these Concerti for various instruments, begging your Highness not to judge them by the standards of your own refined and delicate taste, but to seek in them rather the expression of my profound respect and obedience. In conclusion, Monseigneur, I most respectfully beg your Royal Highness to continue your gracious favor toward me, and be assured that there is nothing I so much desire as to employ myself more worthily in your service.
With the utmost fervour, Monseigneur, I subscribe myself your Royal Highness' most humble and obedient servant,
Jean Sebastian Bach.
And in Bach's "expression of profound respect and obedience," the name of Christian Ludwig Markgraf of Brandenberg lives today. Strange are the ways in which man can achieve immortality!
What His Royal Highness wrote in answer to this letter--the servility of which was in the customary style of authors and composers when they addressed their social superiors--is not known. It is probable, however, that Christian Ludwig did not set upon Bach's music the value which he placed on music by other composers whose work is now as forgotten as their names. For in 1734 the Margrave of Brandenberg died and was borne with imposing ceremony to the tomb wherein also rested the various other princely representatives of his house. In putting Christian Ludwig's affairs in order, the administrators of that ruler's estate found it necessary to dispose of his large collection of compositions. A catalog of these was carefully drawn up, the most important concertos, etc., having been placed first. In this inventory the name of Bach could not have been found by any reader who might have sought for it. The eighteenth century was the period in which Italian music was most liked and most fashionable. So it happened that Vivaldi, Brescianello, Venturini, and others of their land were the composers whose names were writ large in the Margrave's inventory; and the concertos of a number of unimportant composers--there were some seventy-seven of them--were included in a separate section, each concerto having been appraised at four groschen (eight cents). Among this valueless collection were the six concertos which Bach had sent to Christian Ludwig as a token of his "profound respect and very humble obedience." The score of his concertos, which Bach had forwarded to the Margrave, fell at a later date into the posses­sion of Johann Philip Kirnberger, who was a pupil of the master from 1739 to 1741, and that musician bequeathed it to Princess Amalie of Prussia, whose teacher and kapellmeister he was. The princess left the concertos in her will to the Joachimsthal Gymnasium, and from there they found their way eventually to the Royal, now the State, Library, Berlin.
Today we think of the "concerto" as a display piece for a solo instrument, accompanied by the orchestra; that is to say, as a contrast in the tone color of a solo instrument as opposed to the orchestra with its infinite color combinations. The eighteenth century concerto was very different. Bach, Handel, Vivaldi, Corelli, and their contemporaries wrote orchestral "concerti" for a small group of principal instruments called the "concertino," assisted by the full orchestra or "concerto grosso" of strings only or strings and woodwind with harpsichord.
The Brandenberg Concerti are Bach's first essays in the realm of absolute symphonic instrumental music. Although he had previously written instrumental works of importance, these Concerti easily surpass anything he had done before. No doubt Bach wanted to show that he could write concerti for all the different kinds of solo instruments available in his day, and not restrict himself to the usual
solo strings. This feat was accomplished by writing each concerto for a different group of instruments.
The concerto on tonight's program is limited to the string orchestra. It bears upon the title page of its autograph score the following title: "Concerto j . . . a tre Violini, tre Viole, e tre Violoncelli col Basso fer il Cembalo." In the form in which the third Brandenberg concerto stands in Bach's manuscript and in the edition of the Bach Gesellschaft there are two movements, both in lively temfo. In order to provide contrast it has often been the custom to insert a slow movement between the two Allegros. Upon the occasion of this interpretation there is interpolated an arrangement made by Mr. Stock of the slow movement from the A-minor sonata by Bach for solo violin. Bach may not have been able to avail himself of the color variety of later composers, yet these Concerti are steeped in the true spirit of German romance.
Aria, "O Paradiso" ("L'Africana") Meyerbeer
Giovanni Martinelli
Giacomo Meyerbeer was born September 5, 1791, at Berlin; died May 2, 1864, at Paris.
During the second quarter of the nineteenth century the operatic "czardom" of Meyerbeer reached its apogee, not only in Paris and Berlin, but indirectly throughout the provincial theaters. Although he was not a composer of the first rank, he possessed a keen understanding of the taste of the public which he served, and a peculiar gift for exaggeration and effective contrast in his music for the stage. Some beautiful cantilena passages have been set in bizarre and trivial "frames" in his operas, which tend to create, through concert perform­ances of his fine arias, a higher evaluation of his work than the dramatic produc­tions in their entirety justify.
The aria in this evening's program is taken from the last of the master's dramatic works, The African, text by Scribe, which was produced at Paris, April 28, 1865. The story deals with the period and experiences of Vasco da Gama, the explorer, and hence is quasi historical in its appeal. This aria occurs in Act IV, in the Temple of Brahma, whither Vasco has been conducted (in operatic fashion) to await his execution. The beauty of the Indian landscape inspires him to voice his admiration and to hail this land as an earthly paradise.
Suite for Orchestra, Op. 19 Dohnanyi
Andante con variazioni; Scherzo; Romanza; Rondo
Ernest von Dohnanyi was born at Pressburg, Hungary, July 27, 1877.
Dohnanyi possesses an amazing ability to infuse into traditional and con­ventional musical materials, and formulas, a new life-giving force, and a unique kind of beauty without negating any of the accepted usages of the ele­ments of music. His melodies have a novel grace, his harmony a new suavity, and his instrumental effects a vernal freshness of effect that makes him sound more modern than he really is. He possesses an original and vivacious tempera­ment, and he is always ready to relieve the severe forms of the sonata, varia­tions, or passacaglias in which he chooses to work.
At the outset of his career he earned the warm approbation of Brahms, and in his ingenious handling of classical forms there is much to remind us of Brahms. The principal movement of the Suite is an original theme with six variations, not overly complex but manipulated with a keen sense of instrumental distinc­tion and the hidden possibilities of the theme.
The theme (in F-sharp minor) has an intriguing elasticity of phrase struc­ture. The design is the two-part form and the phrases have successively five measures, then four (these two phrases repeated), then three, four, five, and four (these four phrases repeated). The first part (nine measures) is given to wood wind alone and repeated by strings. A similar scheme is followed in the second part with the addition of horns.
The first variation is based on a rhythmic figure of detached pairs of six­teenth notes through which a sustained florid melody is woven, principally by the clarinet. The second variation is more animated and the design is enlarged but clearly brought out through the changes in instrumental color.
The third variation changes to major and is more tranquil. The theme is not difficult to recognize here. The fourth variation features the English horn under the tremulous strings and flute arpeggios, while the fifth gives the theme first to the bassoons and then to the clarinets and horns over a pizzicato bass. The last variation (in major again) begins fortissimo and very broadly but ends quietly.
The second movement of the suite is a lively Scherzo in 3-8 measure, A minor. The kettledrum marks the rhythm, and flutes and clarinets alternate with strings in presenting the first two parts of the theme. The first part returns fortissimo and then a harp glissando leads to the Trio in A major. This is char­acterized by a continuous sounding of A by violas and violoncellos as a pedal point. The main division of the Scherzo is repeated with enlargements.
The Romanza (in F) opens with an oboe solo over a pizzicato string accom­paniment. The English horn has a second theme shared with the clarinet. When the first theme returns it is in an embellished form taken by a solo violin, solo viola, and solo violoncello responsively, the harps and the other strings accompanying.
The last movement is a Rondo, Allegro vivace, with a brisk march-like bass over which the principal theme is first announced by strings alone. It is con­tinued by the wood wind and returns several times after contrasting episodes, ending with a reminiscence of the opening movement.
Aria, "When Thou by Heaven's grace" ("La Juive") . . Halevy
Mr. Martinelli
Jacques Frangois Halevy was born at Paris, 1799; died at Nice in 1862.
From his youth Halevy composed industriously, but he did not secure public attention until about 1830. With La Juive he reached his highest success. Al­though he seldom showed taste or discrimination in the choice of his libretti, and wrote carelessly and in great haste, blatantly assimilating his style to that of the brilliantly successful Meyerbeer, his music in La Juive compels our admiration for its passionate feeling and tender expression, evincing proof of remarkable dramatic gifts, and real poetic insight. His style here is powerful in its emotional contrasts and rich in its dramatic color. The incomparably higher merit of La Juive is proved by its undiminished success for exactly a century (it was written in 1835) upon all important operatic stages.
The aria is sung by Eleazor, a persecuted Hebrew, who having brought up the daughter of his persecutor as his own, is now confronted with the thought of sacrificing her for revenge.
"Rachael, when the grace of the Lord entrusted you to me, I vowed life's aim should be your welfare and protection and now 'tis I who yield you to death. It is as if I hear your voice crying, 'Save me from death for I am young--Spare me father and set me free.' "
Fantasy, "Circus Day," Op. 18 Taylor
Deems Taylor was born at New York, December 22, 1885.
"Circus Day," commissioned by Paul Whiteman, was composed in 1925 and was conceived, as to its first form, for jazz orchestra, its instrumentation having been made by Ferde Grofe. The work for jazz orchestra was first played at Carnegie Hall, New York, in November, 1925. Later, Mr. Taylor made
the present version for symphony orchestra in 1933 and this was published, with a dedication to Edith and John Braun, in 1934. The first performance of the orchestral version was given under the composer's direction at a children's con­cert in Ernest Schelling's Philharmonic-Symphony Series, New York, in 1933. In Chicago, "Circus Day" was performed for the first time February 21-22, 1935. The composer was also the conductor of the work on those occasions.
The Fantasy, whose subtitle is "Eight Pictures from Memory," comprises seven movements, which follow each other without pause.
The following notes were written by Mr. Taylor:
As the tide indicates, the music attempts to convey one's early impressions of a day at the circus. You must not, however, think of one of the huge three-ring affairs that divide their time among the big cities and go into winter quarters at the first sign of frost. Our particular circus is a much more humble entertainment than that. It travels about the country in trucks and busses, plays under its own tent, and seldom remains in any town longer than a day or two. Its menagerie, while satisfactorily ferocious, is a small one; its performers, while intrepid, are few; and its canvasmen are not above playing in the band when their other duties permit.
I. Street Parade--The whole town is out, crowding the main street and buzzing with excitement. Presently we hear the circus parade approaching. It draws nearer, to the further excitement of the spectators. As it passes, the band playing lustily, we hear, as well, the steam calliope, playing the tune that steam calliopes always play. This, needless to say, has nothing in common with the tune the band is playing. The parade passes on down the street; the playing of the band grows fainter, and dies away in the distance.
Bareback Riders--Into the ring lumber the huge, broad-backed cream-colored horses; and as the ringmaster cracks his whip, their riders perform the miraculous feats-handstands, headstands, hoop-jumping, somersaults--that make bareback riders the objects of such awe and admiration.
(a) The Lion Cage--Now the lion-tamer brings on his cage full of ferocious felines. Their roars are bloodcurdling, but they go through their tricks with no damage to any of us.
(b) The Waltzing Elephants--The great beasts come into the ring and solemnly waltz to a tune that is a pachydermous version of the theme of the bareback riders.
IV. Tight-Rope Walker--He balances his parasol; he pirouettes, and slips and slides as he makes his perilous way along the taut wire; but he never quite falls off.
V. Jugglers--They juggle little balls and big ones, knives, dishes, hats, lighted candles--what you will. Even the orchestra is seized by the contagion and finally juggles its main theme, keeping three versions of it in the air at once.
VI. Clowns--Two of the clowns come out to play us a tune. They begin with a great flourish, but are laughed down by their companions. Clown number one begins a long speech, is heckled, and gets into a quarrel with the others. Two other clowns
try to play the tune. They fail. Two others try it, with no better success. Finally, after a furious argument, the entire clown band manages to play the tune through, amid loud applause.
VII. Finale--This might better be called "Looking Back." For the circus is over, and we are back at home, trying to tell a slightly inattentive family what we saw and heard. The helpful orchestra evokes recollections of jugglers, clowns, bareback riders, tight-rope walkers, trained animals--all the wonders that went to make up an unfor­gettable day.
Aria, "Un di all' azzurro spazio" ("Andrea Chenier") . Giordano
Mr. Martinelli
Umberto Giordano was born at Foggia, Italy, August 27, 1863.
Like a true Italian, Giordano displays an exuberant gift of melody and a strong feeling for dramatic effect, in spite of the fact that his scores lack solidity and are not well wrought throughout. In his music he often resorts to the usual theatrical tricks for extorting applause, at the expense of a sincere expres­sion of emotion.
Andrea Chenier brought him the greatest success of his career. It speedily made the round of the Italian theaters and later reached Berlin and London, enjoying a phenomenal success.
In Andrea Chenier Giordano displays a more definite individuality of style and maintains a sustained dramatic interest not often met with in his other works.
The action of this story takes place in Paris during the French Revolution. Andrea Chenier, a poet, patriot, and dreamer, who was born in Constantinople, came to Paris for his education. He took sides in the Revolution, being a be­liever in liberty and a hater of monarchs; he was arrested, imprisoned, and finally guillotined on July 25, 1794. The opera plot arranged from these his­torical facts by Luigi Ulica draws more from the imagination of the librettist than from the known incidents of Chenier's life. The first act takes place in the hall of the castle of Coigny where preparations for a ball are in progress. Among the guests who arrive is Chenier, who is asked by the coquette Madeline to improvise on a theme of love. He sings the air, Un di aW azzurro spazio, in which he criticizes sharply the aristocracy and speaks of the pride of the rich and its effect upon the poor. The text is as follows:
One day I stood in a field of violets, the sun was shedding gold and gilded all the world. The earth seemed to send up caresses and I, overcome with its affection, cried out, I love you, my country, my fatherland. My only thought now was to kneel and
pray and I sought out a church where I found the priest gathering alms in the name of the Virgin. And a trembling old man held out his hands for bread, but the priest was deaf to his pleas. I turned to go, unnoticed, when I saw another prone on the ground, cursing God and humanity with his famished children surrounding him. And now I ask you, you patricians, what are you doing to help
Only in your eyes, fairest daughter, do I find an expression of pity, of compassion: You seem like an angel sent from heaven who expresses all the beauty of this world. Only your cruel words have awakened in me a feeling of sadness. Pray do not cast off the sincere pleadings of a poet. You do not know love, you cannot belittle God's greatest gift. The soul and being of the world is love.
Saturday Afternoon, May 18
Tableau Musical, "Baba Yaga," Op. 56 Liadow
Anatole Liadow was born at St. Petersburg, April 29, 1855; died at Novgorod, August 28, 1914. Some music lexicons say Leningrad.
Although Liadow was not one of the Russian School who contributed to its glory by large and imposing works--his reputation was made, indeed, by piano pieces of the smaller kind--he exercised no little influence upon its devel­opment, and was the associate of some of its principal members.
The Baba-Yaga of Russian fairytales corresponds to the witch of western European folklore. She is often represented as living in a hut fenced around with the bones of people she has eaten, and when the Baba-Yaga is moved to travel abroad it is in a mortar which she urges on with a pestle, sweeping away with a broom as she goes the traces of her flight. It is this progress of the witch that forms the pictorial basis of Liadow's composition.
After a few introductory measures, with the witch's whistle in descending passage for clarinets, presto D minor, 3-8, the chief theme is given to the bassoon. The rhythmical figure in the accompaniment has much significance in the devel­opment. The musical picture that follows is evidently suggestive of the witch's flight. The end is fianissbno (flutes and clarinets, violins muted, and divided tremolos) indicative of Baba Yaga's disappearance.
Symphony after Byron's "Manfred," B minor, Op. 58 . Tchaikowsky Manfred Wandering in the Alps The Fairy of the Alps Pastorale The Underground Palace of Arimanes
Peter Hitch Tchaikowsky was born at Wotkinsk, May 7, 1840; died at St. Petersburg, November 6, 1893.
When Thordwalsen had finished his bust of Byron in Rome, Byron cried, "No, that is nothing like me, I am far unhappier than that." Here is the epony­mous hero of an age. "His being," said Goethe, "consists in rich despair," and, in truth, fame, love, wealth, and beauty turned him into a despiser of the world. He was the true inventor of "Weltschmerz," the sorrow that suffers from the world, and is therefore incurable, for only by the complete abolition of the world
can it be destroyed. The vulnerable spot of this hero lay not in his heel, really, but in his soul. Like Faust, he pined in enjoyment and, like Hamlet, in "to be" he constantly sensed "not to be." The soul life of the whole epoch bore the stamp of this man for whom "sorrow was knowledge." Just as a famous picture distributes itself among mankind in thousands of reproductions cheap and expen­sive, coarse and fine, exact and careless, so Europe was populated with innumer­able copies of Byron which, with more or less success, more or less exactly, or more or less superficially tried to reproduce the essence of this extraordinary creature.
The age was literally infected with Byronism. Already Chateaubriand, who gave such fluent and beautiful expression to the emotional ideas originated by Rousseau, has his Rene say, "Everything wearies me, painfully I drag my boredom about with me, and so my whole life is a yawn." Goethe's Werther, too, had this romantic desire to feel and suffer uniquely. Byron's Manfred re­flected an increasing egoism in the expression of melancholy. Manfred like Werther and Rene suffered from an unhappiness caused by hidden, indefinable longings. They felt "le desenchantement de la vie" and they suffered from a universal and self-cultivated melancholy. In the novels of the time, the heroes were all victims of a mixture of egoism and sensibility. Their philosophy was the Leopardian "sorrow and ennui is our being, and dung the earth -nothing more. Wherever one looks, no meaning, no fruit." In Pushkin's Eugene Onegin and Lermantov's Hero of Our Time, the heroes play the part of dis­illusioned young men, who, tired of life, wrap themselves in the mantle of Byronism. The whole world was in the grip of "la maladie du siecle." It was, as Immerman said, "as though humanity tossed about in its little bark by an overwhelming ocean, is suffering from a moral seasickness of which the out­come is hardly to be seen."
The sources for this world sickness can be found in a measure in the effects the Industrial Revolution had upon the lives of men. As a result of this tremen­dous reorganizing force with its consequent power and wealth, a new attitude toward life was created. The growth of a rationalistic materialism destroyed suddenly the comforting old beliefs in the Bible. It gave rise to a period of doubt and disillusionment; it seemed as though the old culture were to disappear com­pletely. Strong spirits like Carlyle, John Stewart Mill, and Ruskin fought valiantly for the "revenge of instinct." Less fortified minds, however, fell before the onslaught of industrialism and its materialism -slunk into mental and spiritual apathy, and decayed. With decay came disease and with disease con­tagion crept into the souls of men. From this overfertilized emotional soil grew a decadent school of art. Chopin's supersensitive soul cried out its longing in his languorous nocturnes, Berlioz in his "Fantastique Symphony" pictured the nar[56]
cotic dreams of a young artist who because of an unrequited love had attempted suicide by opium. Wagner, expressing one side of the Industrial Revolution in the imperious force and merciless drive of his music, nevertheless allowed his desire-sick soul to long for death as the only release from the world. The Renunciation motive is at the basis of his great dramas. Senta renounces life for the salvation of the Dutchman, Elizabeth dies for Tannhauser, Brunhilde throws herself upon the funeral pyre of Siegfried to redeem the race, and Tristan and Isolde live only for the night and long for death to unite them forever. Heine characterized this feeling in Germany. "People," he said, "practiced renuncia­tion and modesty, bowed before the invisible, snatched at shadow kisses and blue-flowered scents."
Tchaikowsky, like Byron, was a child of his age. It is truly said of Byron that he had but one subject-himself, and that saying is equally true of Tchai­kowsky. If his personality is less puissant and terrible than that of Byron, his artistic instincts are reflected none the less forcibly in his self-cultivated and exhibitionistic art. His persistent penchant for melancholy expression, his feverish sensibility, his revulsions of artistic feeling, and his superficial emotions which sink him into morbid pessimism, deadening depression, and neurotic fears on the one hand, or raise him to wild hysteria on the other -picture him in the frame­work of his age. Such a work as Byron's Manfred with its attractive luxury of woe, spoke directly to Tchaikowsky's heart.
"The composition of the Manfred Symphony," he wrote, "a work highly tragic in character, is so difficult and complicated that at times I myself become Manfred. All the same, I am consumed with the desire to finish it as soon as possible, and am straining every nerve; result -extreme exhaustion."
Tchaikowsky was Manfred indeed. With him he wandered among the glaciers of the Alps to escape the world; and with him he suffered an indefinable torture of spirit. As a result, his symphony quivers with a high-strung emotion, and his musical melancholy, although not painful to the ear, is excessive, exuber­ant, and luscious.
I. The following program (printed in Russian and French) is placed on the flyleaf of the score:
"Manfred wanders the Alps. Tormented by the fatal anguish of doubt, torn by remorse and despair, his soul is the prey of suffering without name. Neither the occult sciences, whose mysteries he has fathomed, and by means of which the powers of darkness are subject to his will, nor anything in the world can bring to him the for-getfulness which alone he covets. The memory of the beautiful Astarte, whom he has loved and lost, gnaws at his heart. Nothing can lift the curse which lies heavily on Manfred's soul and which increasingly without truce delivers him to the tortures of the most grievous despair."
[57 1
Lento lugubre, 4-4 time. The movement opens at once with what may be termed the "Manfred" motive, given to the three bassoons and bass clarinet:
Immediately following this appears a passage in the first oboe, clarinets, bassoons, and horns, representative of Manfred's agonized cry for the mercy of oblivion:
There is a third subdivision of the theme, of which much use is made. It begins in the strings, as follows:
The frenzied note of tragedy, sounding throughout this division, is, of course, intended to represent Manfred's despair, the futile attempts to bring to his succor the infernal legions of Arimanes, the Prince of Darkness. At the close of the section there is heard in the wood wind a passage suggestive of Manfred's agonized cry to Astarte. The mood changes, and in the muted strings there is heard the tranquil motive which suggests the calm and tender memories connected with Astarte:
The music becomes gradually more agitated. After a climax has been reached there ensues a general subsidence of emotion, as though exhaustion had intervened. After a pause, the third division of the movement (Andante con duolo) is ushered in by a sudden outburst in the wind, followed two measures later by a vehement presentation of the "Manfred" motive (No. i) in the violins, violas, and violoncellos. This matter is worked over with furious energy until the movement ends.
II. The following "program" stands at the head of this division of Tchaikowsky's work: "The fairy of the Alps appears to Manfred under the rainbow of the mountain torrent."
Vivace con sfirito, B minor, 2-4 time. The opening portion of the movement portrays the waterfall, which Lord Byron, in the journal of his Swiss tour, described as "neither mist nor water, but something between both; its immense height gives it a wave or curve, a spreading here or condensation there, wondrous and indescribable":
Following extended treatment of this material there is heard a sharp chord from the harp and horns, with a stroke of the triangle, and the rainbow is revealed. Manfred
?Tchaikowsky made this the second instead of the third movement of the symphony, as Balakirew suggested. Its inspiration is derived from Scene II of the second act of Byron's poem.
invokes the fairy, who appears to him. The song of the fairy is heard in the melody given to the first violins (D major), accompanied by chords for the harps:
This theme is repeated successively by the clarinet, flutes, and violoncellos. At the conclusion of this treatment suggestions of the Manfred motive (No. i) make their appearance in the violas and horns. The fairy's song is reheard in the violins with harp accompaniment (C major), and is given development. There is a crescendo, and with a crash in the full orchestra the Manfred motive (No. i) is called out by the strings. The excitement gradually subsides, and the first part of the movement is given repetition with practically the same instrumentation.
III. Pastorale. The simple, free, and peaceful life of the mountaineers.
This movement is scored for the same orchestra as the preceding one. The tri­angle is omitted, and its place taken by a bell in A, which the composer directs should be heard as if from a distance.
Andante con moto, G major, 6-8 time. This subject, upon which the movement is based, is given out at once by the oboe:
This is later repeated by the wood wind, with the violoncellos singing a second part, as in a duet, and the first violins accompanying with a continuously moving figure in triplets. A new idea is given out by the English horn, clarinets, and bassoons. The music becomes wilder as the strings enter with a strongly marked theme, ff. There is a hastening of the time, and the violins bring forward another theme, which is given development:
Constantly increasing agitation leads to the appearance of the Manfred motive (No. i, shrieked out by the trumpets, ). The sound of a bell is heard, the turbu­lence gradually subsides, and the pastoral opening theme returns in the wood wind, and is continued by the strings. Other portions of the movement are reintroduced, and the piece comes to an end with softly uttered suggestions of the opening theme, given in succession to the flute, oboe, and clarinet.
IV. The subterranean palace of Arimanes. Manfred appears in the midst of a bacchanale.f Invocation of the phantom of Astarte. She predicts the end of his earthly misery. Manfred's death.
Allegro con fuoco, B minor, 4-4 time. The movement opens at once with the subject of the bacchanale, given to the strings, wood wind, and horns:
Seventy-two measures are devoted to the development of this matter, following which a new theme appears, fortissimo, the triangle marking the rhythm.
A second division of this subject, given to the wood wind, is given extensive development. Two bars of quotation will permit of its easy recognition:
The orgy becomes more furious; but eventually its tumultous excitement is stayed by the appearance {Lento) of the motives connected with Manfred. After the second of these has been heard in the strings, and later in the wood wind, the opening theme of the bacchanale is given out as a fugato. In the course of its development the subject last quoted reappears, and the ever-increasing frenzy leads to a climax of furious inten­sity. There is a pause. The Manfred motive alternates with the bacchanale theme. Another pause, succeeding which there is heard part of the Astarte motive (No. 4),
?Arimanes of Byron's poem is the Ahriman of the Zoroastrian creed. Ha is, according to the dualistic doctrine of Zoroaster, the personification of all that is evil and malignant, the king of darkness and of death, and the eternal enemy of Harmuzd, the creator of light and virtue. (There is no reference to a bacchanalian orgy in Byron's poem.
interspersed with sweeping glissando passages for the harps. The complete Astarte melody (No. 4) now reappears in the strings. An Allegro section follows, in which the Manfred motive (No. 1) is called forth by the bass clarinet and the bassoons. The time hastens, and the emotional intensity of the music becomes fiercer until the final climax is reached. At this point--illustrative of the death of Manfred--the organ enters. There are suggestions of the opening theme of the movement; the mood becomes more tran­quil, and the music finally dies away in the long-held notes of the wood wind.
Concerto in F minor for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 21, No. 2 . Chopin Maestoso; Larghetto; Allegro vivace
Josef Lhevinne
Frederic Frangois Chopin was born at Zelazowa-Wola, February 22, 1810; died at Paris, October 17, 1849.
Chopin the pianist, as such, has been lost sight of in the universal conviction that he was the most graceful, the most poetic, and within the limitations of his nature, the most forceful composer for his instrument the world has seen. He invented new piano idioms -involving novel and important concepts of rhythm, of harmonic structure and, especially, of the function of ornamentation -and penetrated more deeply into the poetic possibilities of his instrument than any other composer. As early as 1831 Schumann wrote of him --"Hats off, gentle­men! a genius!" Possibly in none of his works does he display greater originality and more significant appreciation of the artistic value of his instrument than in the smaller forms. Tender, occasionally voluptuous, always poetic, he invested his preludes, mazurkas, and nocturnes with a charm perennial in its appeal. In his polonaises he rises to great heights, and if he is never the Titan -as Liszt was occasionally, when he was not offensively original -they were manly and pervaded by a grandeur of a type peculiarly his own. In his two concertos -written in 1829, when he was already individual in his creative art -he has given us admirable examples of what the form should be. The production of the beautiful F-minor concerto is our tribute to the memory of one "who being dead yet speaketh."
Saturday Evening, May 18
"Boris Godunof" (Original Version) Moussorgsky
An Opera in a Prologue and Four Acts. Period: 1598--1605--Locale: Russia and Poland
Modest Petrovitch Moussorgsky was born at Toropetz, March 28, 1839; died at Leningrad, March 28, 1881.
A brief sketch of the remarkable movement in Russian music which took place in the third and fourth quarters of the nineteenth century, and Moussorg-sky's relation thereto, is essential to an adequate understanding of the significance of the opera Boris Godunof. Without doubt Boris Godunof is at once the most national and the most Russian of the many works written for the stage in the great land of the Tsars; unquestionably Moussorgsky was the most individual, the most realistic of the group of composers whose ideals, efforts, and influence wrought, in a half century, a new musical literature, true to Russian racial qual­ities and opposed to the influences of Southern and Western Europe. Inaugurated by Glinka (1804-57) an& Dargomisky (1813-1869) with their operas A Life for the Tsar (1836) and Rusalka (1856) respectively, this movement for a nationalistic expression in music gained increasing impetus, and under the leader­ship of Balakireff, it was promoted and evolved by "The Five," a group includ­ing Borodin, Cui, Rimsky-Korsakoff, Balakireff, and Moussorgsky; these com­posers are indissolubly bound with what is now known as Russian music. While it is not a simple matter to define specifically the innovations which this group achieved, it is possible to point to the fact that this literature is distinguished from that of Romanticists of Western Europe by its underlying spirit, its freedom from the conventionalities of harmony, rhythm, and design, and its emphasis upon realism as a criterion and folk elements as sources of inspiration. While romanti­cism in Germany and France was delving into pure, abstract lyric beauty, into pessimism and human sufferings as richer sources of emotional expression, "The Five" tended to the opposite goals -an art built on, and close to the life of the folk, and an absence of all sophistications of formal or academic expression. Whether in the field of opera, symphony, church music, or the ballet, this spirit rose logically and persistently, and, in the hands of composers who were almost zealots for "nationalism," it colored and shaped a vast literature which is perhaps more unique and more indigenous to the race than the musical literature any single nation has yet produced.
This version was published in 1928 by the Russian State Publishing Department, Moscow. The score, with English translation by M. D. Calvocoressi, is issued by the Oxford University Press, London, through whose kindly offices the present performance is possible.
The group life of "The Five" was as free from internal limitation or coercion in certain directions as it was free from non-Russian influence. Though the members of the group met often to discuss theories and practices in detail, to review and criticize the work of each other, there is not the slightest evi­dence of plagiarism or mutual repression in the direction of a "style" of writing. Each enjoyed absolute freedom in direction and manner of growth. None began composition with a thorough grounding in the technic of music creation, viz., harmony, counterpoint, and orchestration; the lack of training is evident in the early efforts of the several men. What is outstanding, however, is a sincerity, a boldness of imagination and intuition which carry conviction with the listener in spite of frankly bad grammar and rhetoric, to borrow terms from the literature of the written and spoken word. Soon, however, these Russian gentlemen (though destined for careers other than music: law, medicine, the navy, etc.) began to apply themselves diligently to the study of composition in order that, although music was for them only an avocation, they might be able to express themselves more adequately and directly. Rimsky-Korsakoff be­came the most scholarly and technically proficient of the group; Moussorgsky was probably at the other extreme -the least willing to acquire skill and facility in correct writing. He abhorred all forms of sophistication in art; he was not interested in the development of beautiful patterns of sound in time order (the classic ideal); with him, music was a mirror of action, of imagery; it was con­cerned with the reproduction of physical movement; he fought against repeti­tions as an aid to symmetry and balance, merely for the sake of form; he inveighed against superficiality, and arrayed himself on the side of realism, vital­ity, and truthfulness in expression. For this reason hard things have been said of him as an artist. He has been accused of crude realism, of a lack of any sense of real beauty, of creating clumsily, laboriously, and imperfectly. It is true that he is a thoroughgoing realist in music, but for him realism was not only an essential and indispensable quality in art, but it also rendered to art an instrument through which the masses could be brought to a realization of their social and moral duties. This attitude, contrary to the common conception of art as appealing primarily to the cultivated, is comparable to that of Tolstoy. For Moussorgsky, art was so valuable a means of human intercourse that to treat it merely as a vehicle for the glorification of the beautiful world would diminish its power to effect human improvement. For him, art was the expression of humanity, and like humanity it is in a constant state of evolution. Art as such can therefore have no arbitrary, formalistic boundaries. As the expression of humanity is an office which ought to be carried out with a full sense of responsibility attached to those intrusted with it, the artist is called upon to be sincere in any work he undertakes. For Moussorgsky "Art for art's sake" becomes "Art for life's sake."
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The music of Moussorgsky brings varying and confused impressions to the mind. Considering his work as a whole, everything is imperfect, incomplete, and careless. It is marked by a rugged crudeness and by unprecedented and quite intuitive audacities with their constant adaptation to the special needs of his own creative temperament. And yet, we must acknowledge a genius of colossal inspiration and awful power. To his more conservative contemporaries, Tchai-kowsky and Rubinstein, Moussorgsky was a musical nihilist, and his music filled them with misgivings. In a letter written by Tchaikowsky to Mme. Von Meek, November 27, 1878, we meet with an interesting characterization of Mous­sorgsky.
As far as talent goes, he is perhaps the most important of all, only his is a nature in which there is no desire for self-improvement--a nature too absorbed with the absurd theories about him. Moreover, his is a rather low nature, that loves the uncouth, coarse, and ugly. He prides himself on his ignorance, and writes down what comes to his head, believing blindly in the infallibility of his genius.
His obvious incorrectness at times, his ultra crude realism (for his genera­tion), and his insistence upon preserving his originality at the cost of discipline, do not destroy in any way his position as perhaps the most gifted of the neo-Russian School, overflowing with vitality and reckless in his daring. His power­fully spontaneous and startlingly free and unfettered music submerges all weak­ness of detail. Claude Debussy has exactly defined his music in these terms: "It resembles the art of the enquiring primitive man, who discovers music step by step, guided only by his feelings." He is in truth the Dostoyevsky of music, and his music is a poetic evocation to nationalism.
In Boris Godunoj, Moussorgsky achieves the highest level in his creative career. The works of the years prior to 1868--1874 were a preparation for his masterpiece, and the efforts of the later years were those of a spent genius. For a more or less untrained composer to create the most national and most Russian of operas, and to reach a power of sustained expression which places the work among the great operas of all periods and "schools" is tribute to the intensity of the inner flame which glowed, sometimes at white heat, during the years of creating this unique music drama. Written in a period when Verdi in Italy was winning acclaim for the sheer beauty of vocal melody, and Wagner with his leit­motif system was all powerful in western Europe, Boris Godunoj bows to neither of these operatic ideals, but marches stealthily, gloomily forward, creating a new expression. It is in the primal power of the music and in sharply defined charac­terization that Boris is outstanding. Moussorgsky uses the leitmotif charily, and he dislikes intricate polyphony. The music here moves in massive blocks, follow­ing the plan of semi-detached tableaux. Nothing could be less Wagnerian. Bold­ness, audacity, sincerity to dramatic and racial equalities (and inequalities) lift
Boris Godunof above the level of routine opera writing, and overshadow its undeniable weaknesses.
These weaknesses have to do with dramatic structure. A clearly defined, developing, integrated plot in the usual sense is absent. Yet, in spite of this obvious weakness of plot construction, Boris Godunof possesses an almost Aeschylean grandeur in the handling of dramatic forces. Moussorgsky's drama presents in several episodes the climaxing movements in the life of Boris, and some of the events which brought on his mortal fear, the gradual weakening of his spirit and power, and the consequent distintegration of his nature. In his version of the story, however, which he based upon Pushkin's poetic play, Mous-sorgsky centered his interest upon elevating to a dramatic level higher than that of any individual character, the surging, groaning, and agitating populace. Born among the country folk, ever sympathetic to their position with respect to im­perialism, he pictures at first their blind obedience, their humble obeisance, and then, their muttering discontent, their awesome power, and terrifying strength, which, finally unleashed, wreaks destruction to a whole social order. With inex­orable forces acting upon him and beyond his control, Boris becomes a passive and gauntly tragic victim of circumstances. Perhaps all this was a prophecy of the events of 1918; in which case, there is an explanation for the removal of the opera from the repertoire in Russia under the Tsar, and the great popularity of the work in the last decade.
There are, in all, five versions of Moussorgsky's Boris. The first written in 1868--69 was rejected by the management of the Imperial Theatre on the ground that it was too unlike the opera as they knew it. Moussorgsky then made alterations and additions, and the work was accepted for production in 1872--73. It was not given in its entirety, but the success of its extracts induced the music publishers, Bessel and Co., to publish the vocal score in 1874.
In the form of the second version, Boris Godunof received its first complete stage representation on January 27, 1874, at the Imperial Theatre at St. Peters­burg. In the words of Stasov, Moussorgsky's biographer:
It was a great triumph for Musorgsky. The old men, the indifferentists, the routinists, and the worshippers of banal operatic music sulked and raged (that, too, was a triumph) ; the pedants of the Conservatoire and the critics protested with foaming mouths. Some stupid intrigue contrived that four wreaths (bearing inscriptions such as "Glory to thee for Boris, glory!" "The power has arisen"--quoted from the folk chorus in the fifth Act--and "To new shores!")--wreaths from youthful admirers of Musorgsky--were not presented to him during the first performance and the poor girls had to send them to his house. On the other hand the younger generation exulted and at once raised Musorgsky on their shields. Little they recked that the critics vied with one another in pulling Musorgsky to pieces. They (the critics) spoke of his illiteracy, of his coarseness and want of taste; they said that he violated the traditions; they talked of the impropriety of starting a chorus straight from a pedal; they discovered a certain melodramatic quality in the Jesuit Rangoni; they decided
that the best bits of the opera were those which were "rounded off" in accordance with the conventional operatic formula (e.g., the charming, but in no way remarkable children's story, "Our parrot was perching," or the trio at the end of the "Scene at the fountain") ; finally, they declared that the composer was too "self-satisfied" (!), that his music was "immature and hasty" (!).
From 1881 to 1886 the score lay neglected. Then in 1886 Rimsky-Korsa-koff made his first, and later in 1908, his second version from the original. Until the publication in 1928 by the Russian State Music Department of the original version (which is being performed this evening), the musical world knew the opera only as it had been rewritten and completely rescored by the composer's friend and fellow worker, Rimsky-Korsakoff, to whom a great debt of gratitude is due for his unceasing labors in preparing for publication after Moussorgsky's death the many sketches and completed manuscripts that were sorely in need of careful editing to win any consideration whatsoever in those days. However, the music of Boris as a whole is far superior, far more dramatically truthful and modern in texture in Moussorgsky's original version than in Rimsky-Korsakoff's editing, although the Rimsky-Korsakoff orchestration as a whole is probably more effective if not as unique as Moussorgsky's. But the strength and meat of the music and drama are in Moussorgsky's original conception and execution of the work. In the Rimsky-Korsakoff version again, much of the primordial power and wild splendor of the original score has been destroyed and lost through a misdirected attempt to "refine" some of Moussorgsky's "crudities." These "crudities," however, in their stark and direct reality, appeal particularly to our age, and we welcome an opportunity to hear this epoch-making work in all its thrilling, torrential, and colorful original. Here is to be found music that is gaunt and rawboned and as primitive as the art of Gauguin; music that is recklessly daring and overflowing with rich vitality; music that, in its freedom from decadence of any kind, is unique and incomparably stimulating. It is music born of the earth and it is drama of immense soul.
The historical facts behind the story of Boris Godunof are as follows:
Tsar Ivan the Terrible had two sons: Feodor, who ascended the throne, and his brother Dimitri who was in exile at Uglitch. Dimitri was found foully murdered near the end of the reign of Feodor, and when Boris ascended the throne on the death of Feodor, it was rumored that he (Boris) had been respon­sible for the death of Dimitri. The reign of Boris was short and troubled. Led by a pretender, who posed as the murdered Dimitri, who had been brought back to life by a miracle, the people revolted against Boris at the time of his death.
This is the skeleton of the plot, drawn from history and elaborated into dramatic proportions by the poet-dramatist Pushkin and readapted by the com­poser when he utilized these incidents for his opera.
Scene I. Courtyard of the Novodevichy Monastery, near Moscow.
Nikitich, Mitiukha, and Shchelkalof; Boyars and Muscovite People.
As the curtain rises, the people in small groups are assembling by the monastery walls. They move lazily and their tread is weary. Boyars, members of the aristocracy, headed by Prince Shuisky, cross the stage. They exchange greetings with the crowd and enter the monastery. The crowd wanders about, coming to attention upon the appearance of the Police Officer, Nikitich, who commands them to kneel down. In obedience they kneel, singing a prayer for pity and protection. Still kneeling they begin to converse in small groups, working up to a confusion which is again silenced by com­mands of the officer who threatens punishment for such an uninspired song, in which their "throats have been too lazy." At the top of their voices, the prayer previously sung is repeated, at the conclusion of which Shchelkalof appears at the cloister doors.
Descending the steps toward the still suppliant people, he informs them that their prayers have not moved Boris; he refuses to ascend the throne; they must ask High Heaven for help in this hour of Russia's disaster (the death of the reigning Tsar, and the murder of the heir apparent), and continue to beg Boris to save the country from doom.
Offstage, sound the strains of a song of the Wandering Mendicants, "Glory to Thee, Our Lord, Creator." As they enter they cry aloud, "Crush the monster that is Russia's lawlessness and lack of leadership." They distribute icons and amulets, and the scene ends quietly as they disappear into the cloister to the phrase, "Sing hymns of glory, Praise God and His angels, saints above!" In the remainder of this scene (not performed on this occasion) the people indicate in action and song the effect of the Procession of Mendicants, and are summoned by the officer to meet the next day at dawn at the Kremlin for further instructions. They scatter to their homes--emblematic of the spirit of unthinking obedience in conflict with the emotional mood of utter help­lessness in the face of imperial power.
Scene II.
A square in the Kremlin, Moscow. Facing the audience, upstage, the Red Stairway of the Imperial Palace. Right, downstage, the people are kneeling in the space between the Cathedral of the Assumption (right) and the Cathedral of the Archangels (left).
Shuisky and Boris; Boyars, People.
As Boyars and people assemble, loud peals of bells announce the commencement of the pageant of the Coronation of Tsar Boris, who has finally been persuaded to ascend the throne. The procession, in gorgeous panoply of religious and military cos­tume, wends its way through the throng toward the Cathedral of the Assumption. Shuisky, to the accompaniment of brass, calls on the people to honor the new Tsar and wish him "long life, wealth and power." An old folk-song chant serves as the basis of this Coronation Hymn; it is rich in harmonic texture as it is stolid and severe in rhythm. As the music mounts to a climax, Boris appears on the Cathedral porch, sur­rounded by his children. Feodor and Xenia, and officers of the court.
As a sharp contrast to the brilliancy of the stage picture, and the music accompany­ing it as an omen, perhaps, of the ill-fated reign just beginning, Boris unveils the sadness of his soul, the secret terror in which he lives daily, in this, his initial suppli­cation to Deity for strength, inspiration, and guidance. To the sounds of an old hymn (in minor mode) he invites them to "pay a tribute to the tombs of Russia's rulers, then to join in feasting at a banquet, to which all are welcome guests." The populace answers with shouts of "Glory, Long Life, and Power," as Boris proceeds to his palace.
ACT I Scene I.
A cell in the Monastery of Chudoj. It is night and Pimen is writing by the light of a lamf while Grigory is asleep.
Pimen and Grigory; Chorus of Monks.
As the curtain rises, Pimen, an aged monk, is discovered almost at the end of his labors of writing the narrative of events he has witnessed in Russia. From behind the scenes comes the echo of a chorus of monks chanting prayer. The novice Grigory awakens suddenly from a dream which he relates to the elder man. It concerned his apparent ascent of an endless stairway from the top of which he could overlook Moscow; the crowds in the streets mocked him as he gazed upon them; he was terrified and aghast--when he awoke with the sensation of falling. (Pimen calms him by a recital of his own visions in his youth. The conversation turns to Pimen's rich memory of expe­rience--of war, of conquest, of royal banquets, of the life of repose in a monastery cell. He relates how rulers have cast aside power and splendor for the "humble cowl of the cloister," he relates the story of visits of the deceased Tsar, Ivan the Terrible, of the miracle which happened at the time of the death of his successor, Tsar Feodor, of the filling of the place with a glow as of burning incense.)
At the request of Grigory, Pimen describes in awesome words and tones the events leading up to the murder of Dimitri, the brother of Tsar Feodor. This is one of the scenes of great intensity and realism, in the Moussorgsky setting; it is descriptive in the extreme, vivid and stark in the fitting of music to the dramatic phrase.
As Pimen concludes, he tells Grigory that the murdered heir to the throne of Russia resembled him (Grigory) in age and physique. Thus is the seed planted which later stirs Grigory to become the Pretender, to incite rebellion, to make Boris atone for this "hellish crime before the judgment seat of God."
Scene II.
An inn by the Lithuanian border.
(Hostess), Varlaam, (Missail, Pretender, and Officer).
(The hostess is singing the "folk song of the Drake" as the curtain rises. Missail and Varlaam, two bibulous monks, arrive with a friend, Grigory in disguise. He has left the convent and is on his way to Poland. The fact of his escape is known to the police who are searching all borders for him. While the officers search the inn, and read a description of the sought-for monk, Grigory escapes.)
?Dramatic action, enclosed in parentheses, is omitted in the performance.
For the most part, this scene is effective only with dramatic action to accompany and amplify the suggestions in the music. At the height of the drinking party, Varlaam is induced to sing an old folk song "By the Walls of Kazan, the mighty stronghold," which by its boldness and audacity in rhythmic and harmonic treatment becomes of value as a concert number. Musically, the orchestra presents a set of variations on the melody which is repeated again and again by Varlaam. It has all the wildness and crudity of a Tartar song.
ACT II Initial Version
The imperial afartments in the Moscow Kremlin. The decorations are elaborate; ufstage, is a large globe and. nearby a table at which Feodor is seated, studying an atlas. At right stage, Xenia is seated.
Xenia, Feodor, Boris, Shuisky, and Boyar.
Xenia holds in her hand a picture of the Danish prince, her betrothed, which she kisses as she sings a lament for his sudden death. Feodor interrupts with his geography lesson. Boris, who has entered, meanwhile, sings tenderly to his daughter, begging her to retire to her playroom, and to join her companions in games to drive away her sor­row. Turning to Feodor, who points out the several parts of the Muscovite empire, the Tsar commends him for his study and reminds him that "A time will come, perhaps it is at hand, when you will rule all these lands, so work hard, my son." The music which accompanies this text is repeated in the death scene when Boris lovingly takes leave of his son.
Boris reflects at length on his supremacy in power, on the prophecies of the astrolo­gers for a long and glorious reign; he finds no solace for his aching heart in the signs of material greatness. Pathetically he recalls how he had hoped to provide a splendid marriage feast for his daughter, whose sorrow now saddens him. He knows the ugly rumor that he is accused of the murder of her beloved; he trembles at the thought.
A Boyar announces that Shuisky wishes audience to bring news of great import. The Boyar also warns the Tsar that there is a rumor that Shuisky is "double crossing" his master, by meeting clandestinely with others who would foment revolt. Boris realizes that Shuisky is "supple, cunning and audacious," but commands that he be admitted.
In the presence of Boris and Feodor, Shuisky relates that in Poland there is a pretender to the throne of the Tsars, supported in his efforts by royalty and the church (note the connection between this and the wiles of Rangoni in Scene I, Act III). When Shuisky suggests that should the Pretender succeed in crossing the border into Russia, he would probably use the name Dimitri, Boris suddenly commands Feodor to leave the room. When his son has left, the Tsar in a fearful rage commands that Shuisky raise such a barrier between Russia and Poland that "not a weasel shall creep across." Again his fears overcome him, and he inquires if Shuisky believes that children after they are dead could "arise from their coffins to challenge the Tsars, appointed by God, and crowned by the Patriarch of Russia" He requires Shuisky to swear yet once again
that "the poor child found lifeless at Uglich was Dimitri." "Yes," is the reply. Becom­ing more distraught than before, Boris utters a terrible curse on Shuisky if he should find that he has lied to him; after the events of the slaying of Dimitri are again retold, Shuisky is ordered out of the room.
Alone with his memories, and his conscience, Boris unveils his innermost feelings in a scene of great power and intensity. As a clock starts ticking, and with a grisly accompaniment in the orchestra, he thinks aloud: "Verily one sin committed under the guidance of an overpowering fate fills your heart with poison." Continuing in this vein he reaches a state of frenzy; as the clock strikes he thinks he sees in the moonlight a ghost--that of the murdered child. In terror he falls on his knees, covers his eyes with his hands and prays fervently for forgiveness.
Scene I.
Marina Mnishek's dressing room in Sandomir Castle, Poland.
Marina, Rangoni, and Maidens of the Court.
As the curtain rises, the young girls are entertaining Marina with songs. Marina dismisses her servant, Ruzia, and in true operatic fashion, embraces the opportunity to sing an aria in the style of a mazurka. The melody is used in the organic development of the scene later on--which perhaps justifies the baldness of its introduction here. As she finishes the song, she recognizes the Jesuit, Rangoni, who has come to beg her to use her influence, when she goes to Moscow as the Tsarina, to convert the Muscovites to the Catholic faith. To the rhythm of the mazurka she protests her wordly nature, her love of feasts and dancing. Rangoni counters with the suggestion that by her beauty she may make the Pretender her slave; when he is mad with love, then "let him swear allegiance to our church." She curses him for this degradation of love, and he in turn threatens the intervention of the spirits of evil, the loss of her lure of beauty-he commands her to obey the will of God, to be his slave.
Scene II.
Gardens of Sandomir Castle. A fountain plays in the moonlight.
The Pretender, Marina, and Rangoni.
As the curtain rises, the Pretender is waiting near the fountain to keep his tryst with Marina who is within, dancing with the many guests.
(Cautiously Rangoni approaches from behind the wall and announces that he has been sent by Marina to say that she will soon come to meet her lover. The false Dimitri breaks out in a passionate avowal of his love, and his wish to make Marina his wife and take her with him to Moscow. For this Rangoni has been waiting; he begs the Pretender to allow him to be his adviser, and an affirmative answer is received as guests from the castle come out on the balcony.)
Marina appears as the music of a folacca is heard through the open doors; she is arm in arm with an old nobleman, and protests his avowals of love. The dance con­tinues. The guests drink to the health of Marina.
All exeunt into the castle. The Pretender reappears, first upbraiding, to himself, the sly Rangoni, then Marina for delaying so long her coming, and for being seen on the arm of an old dotard. His thoughts turn to the approaching conquest in which he shall lead his "victorious armies, and be seated on the throne of my fathers."
Marina enters; the Pretender is in ecstasy. But tonight her mood is different; she did not come to hear his declarations; "you may die for aught I care." Her interest is in the power she will have when they are in Moscow; he reproaches her for this mood, this new love of the "shallow lure" of the throne. More intensely, more pas­sionately he avows his love. To the melody of her initial aria she does not deny that the purple robes and golden crown alone can tempt her. The scene continues in this fashion until the Pretender changes his mood, and for the moment becoming, in fancy, the leader of armies, asserts his supremacy, and derides her with the words that it will be his tarn to laugh when he stands supreme in power and she comes kneeling as a slave before the throne. At that point her mood is reversed instantly, and for purposes of an "operatic duet" they vie with one another in protestations of eternal love and complete submission. As the lovers embrace, Rangoni crosses the stage, rejoicing at the proof of his victory.
ACT IV Scene I.
A clearing in the jorest near Kromy. It is night. A dense thicket, distant city walls, and large tree stumps are discerned in the pale light.
Khrushchof, Varlaam, Missail, Lavitzky, Chernikofsky, The Pretender, and The Simpleton; Vagabonds.
In the midst of great confusion offstage, in rush a crowd of vagabonds. They have captured a nobleman, Khrushchof, whom they roughly treat and gag. They gather round, building a fire, meanwhile making sport of "one of Boris' captains." In rude peasant style they jeer at him: "Sit, brave Boyar, pondering what may please the wicked Boris." Behind the scenes, Varlaam and Missail are heard singing a lament that desola­tion has come upon the land, that Russia is torn and bleeds under the heel of one who is the murderer of the rightful Tsar. In a marvelously conceived chorus, the vagabonds sing of the rising tide of the power of the folk against imperialism. The women take up the mood: "Hoy! keep rising mightily, Hoy! keep spreading steadily till our power is let loose." The men and Missail and Varlaam join in the psean: "Christian people, acclaim your lawful Tsar, Dimitri. To death, Boris!"
A Latin hymn sounds in the distance, and as the singing priests appear, the crowd vent their fury upon them. "Hang those ugly rascals. The rope." They tie the Jesuits to a rope and drag them off into the forest, singing the hymn as they go.
Suddenly the sounds of a distant march; the Pretender's trumpet call. Foot soldiers bearing torches and horsemen with white capes enter as Missail and Varlaam sing phrases in honor of the Pretender, in which the crowd joins as the Pretender enters on horse­back, with white cape, helmet, and cuirass. He proclaims himself Tsarevich of all the Russias and calls upon them to follow. In a brilliant outburst of enthusiasm--to the accompaniment of the Pretender's theme, which has been associated with him through[72]
out the opera--the crowd follows him off stage. The bound Jesuits chant a "Gloria." Alarm bells ring, and the glow of a fire in the sky is seen. The crowd continues its shouting as the march to Moscow is begun--perhaps a prophecy of the rise of the proletariat as has come to pass in our own generation. There remains on the stage only the Simpleton, who in his unbalanced mental state bewails the fate of "poor Russia." "Soon the foe will come and the darkness nears, a night which spells Russia's doom." It is just and meet that the poor starving folk should weep. He shudders as he sees the fire glow brighter. The curtain falls. [The scene of the Simpleton is omitted in this performance. ] Scene II.
Reception hall in the Kremlin at Moscow, arranged, for a session of the Council.
Shchelkalof, Shuisky, Boris, and Feodor; The Boyars; Monks (off stage).
The Council of Boyars is in session. Shchelkalof reads a proclamation from the Tsar Boris in which is set forth the fact that a revolt is being incited by the Pretender, and that the latter has stated that the Boyars are loyal to him and not to Boris. The council reaffirms its loyalty to Boris.
Shuisky enters hurriedly, having just come from the Tsar who is "strangely rest­less." He relates that he spied on Boris through a crevice in the wall, and saw him "staggering, moaning, rolling his eyes full of anguish," fearful of seeing the ghost of the youth, Dimitri. At this juncture, Boris enters, staggering to center stage. He accuses Shuisky of having spread the lie that Dimitri was killed.
Regaining his poise, and turning towards the throne, Shuisky asks that there be admitted a humble monk who wishes to speak to the Tsar in secret. Pimen is ushered in; he relates the miracle that befell at the tomb of the slain Dimitri. As he describes the resurrection of the child from the grave, Boris is seen to shudder and grow more restless. As the narrative is ended he swoons. When the confusion has subsided, Boris rouses himself, calls for his son, and expresses the fear that death is near.
The scene which follows--the death of Boris--is one of the most poignant in the operatic literature of any race. Whether viewed as drama or as music, it is matchless. The tender human traits exhibited in his final address to his son, his warnings to beware of the disloyal Boyars, his adjuration to uphold the Holy Faith, his plea for the protec­tion of "your sister Xenia, so pure and gentle," and his prayer to God for the gift of grace to the innocent children--these and other sentiments reveal the nature of Boris as a father which can scarcely be reconciled with his crafty methods of achieving power. Bells toll as he embraces Feodor. A choir of monks sounds in the distance, coming nearer and nearer, Boris intuitively recognizing the approach of his doom. As they enter to the words, "for him is no salvation," Boris dramatically rises, and with a last show of power in "Await my orders, your Tsar commands," the climax of the opera is reached. In the next measure, the same words are repeated almost in a whisper--but the ring of supreme power is replaced by a dull murmur from a crushed soul. The Tsar of the Russias is now the humble penitent before the Throne of Grace. The Boyars are motionless, awed by the passing of Boris. Out of the depths of the orchestra ascends a melodic phrase, symbolic of the upward flight of his soul and of its release from human frailties. The curtain slowly falls.
Founded in 1879 Fifty-sixth Season, 1934-1935
Earl V. Moore, Conductor
E. William Doty, Assistant Conductor and Organist
Maeel Ross Rhead, Pianist
Otto J. Stahl, Librarian
Allen, Elizabeth M. Amendt, Dorothy S. Anderson, Elizabeth M. Anderson, Emiline J. Anderson, Marion L. Backus, Catherine E. Backus, Dorothy L. Barclay, Mable M. Beckler, Ruth P. Bell, Elizabeth L. Bevis, Kathryn S. Bird, Carolyn E. Bowen, Margaret B. Bradstreet, Lola Burgoyne, Bessie E. Burke, Mary L. Bush, Helen G. Byrn, Helen E. Byrne, B. Jeanice Chapel, Rosalynn L. Clampitt, Ina I. Clark, Ruth Cook, Nancy E. Cope, Lucy R. Cowles, Dorothy B. Davis, Virginia E. Dayton, Marguerite E. Dayton, Marie I. Deckler, Dorothy C. Denne, Marijane DeWitt, Dorothea R. Denkinger, Mrs. Eva G. Dickes, Marianne F.
SOPRANOS Djeng, Beatrice Eby, Retha L. Elliott, Mary E. Elm, Marie E. Fairchild, Marguerite B. Forster, lone W. Fuller, Marjorie L. Galvin, Emma Garrettson, Mary E. Gee, Merle Gould, Helen Gram, Helene Greig, Lois A. Haefner, Leona Hanna, Barbara Hardy, ArdeU L. Helfrich, Helen R. Herr, Gladys M. Hildebrand, Kathryn M. Holt, Doris R. Hutchings, Mona B. Jauch, Betty A. Jean, Gertrude Johnson, Amber C. Kapp, Marian J. Kayser, Elfrieda A. Kendall, Margaret Kief, Pauline Koch, Catherine V. Kohlhaas, Mary A. Lake, Mrs. Winifred Lay, F. Eileen Lay, Minnie L.
Lease, Rachel D. Lotridge, Rebecca MacLaren, Helen McLillan, Nancy Mahon, Carol M. Malve, Suzanne Marshall, Eleanor Martinek, Maretta L. Merrell, Betty T. Moore, Elisabeth C. Morrison, Mary C. Morrison, Mary E. Oberdier, Elizabeth A. O'Connor, Edna A. Olsen, Jeannette L. Olthoff, Ruth V. Park, Dorothy E. Parrish, Elizabeth S. Parsons, Marjorie Paterson, Kathleen G. Patten, Vida M. Pattie, Mary R. Patton, Beatrice M. Perkins, Luella E. Peters, Marjorie Phillips, Emily F. Purcell, Rosemary R. Rose, Rachel J. Rowell, Ruth Saxton, R. Leone Schmidt, Margaret L. Scholl, Evelyn H. Schultz, Gladys R.
Shaben, Margaret C. Shapley, Mildred L. Sisson, Clarawanda Smith, Betti A. Smith, Esther M. Smith, Vera J. Snedecor, Jane Stanger, Gerda H. Strand, L. Barbara
Straw, Mrs. Hilda J. Stroup, Mildred N. Swantz, Margaret G. Taisey, Emily A. Toteff, Victoria B. Trunk, Myrtle C. Unger, Elizabeth L. Van Evera, Louise Vogel, Ruth F. Wadsworth, Alma M.
Walton, Arlene B. Walz, Elizabeth L. Warnick, Phyllis G. Wellman, Rita M. Wiers, Berenice W. Wikel, Dorothy Winne, Elizabeth F. Woodhead, Virginia M. Wyman, Alice E.
Allderige, Ruth B. Anderson, Helen Aupperle, Helen Austin, Genevieve Baxter, Mary A. Beach, Barbara Beyer, Marion Boomhower, Ruth E. Bryant, Helen L. Buelow, Thelma M. Cohn, Jane P. Cowin, Roxy E. Cox, Phoebe L. Davenport, Dorothea Dell, Kathleen DeWitt, Helen E. Dickson, Marion B. Dixon, Alma K. Dunlap, Helen Q. Eager, Grace Earnshaw, Mary E. Eddy, Hope B. Eichelbarger, Catherine Fletcher, Jane E. Foote, Emma M. Forsythe, Edith M. Foster, Elma M. Gassner, Hildegarde Gibbs, Jeane A. Gibe, Elizabeth G. Gnodtke, Lucile H. Goodwin, Alice A.
Guest, Margaret J. Hall, Dorothy J. Hamill, Doris L. Hart, Dorothy P. Heath, Eleanor G. Hilpert, Myra E. Hohl, Leonora A. Hoover, Jean E. Houck, Helen M. Howells, Lavinia M. Hutchins, Maxine M. Ives, Margaret Johnson, Eleanor I. Kanouse, Harriet L. Koch, Doris P. Krul, Mrs. Betty T. Leve, Gertrude J. Liuchen, Pearl M. McConkey, Ruth Maclntyre, Kathleen McOmber, Elizabeth Mackintosh, Marjorie M. Mann, Elizabeth V. Miler, Ruth T. Miller, Ruth L. Miller, Sarah K. Minifie, Nellie H. Moffett, G. Winnifred Montee, Josephine F. Myers, Jacqueline O. Olson, Catherine G. Paris, Emilie B.
Peck, Catherine L. Prochnow, Violet A. Pulfrey, Margaret Reed, Lavinia Jane Reed, Mary L. Robinson, Barbara A. Rogers, Jane E. Sauer, Margaret P. Schaul, Louise Schwan, Myra E. Shapland, Dorothy E. Shapland, Helen C. Springer, Eleanor C. Stockwell, Priscilla T. Stoll, Katherine A. Strong, Jean Talcott, Elizabeth L. Thompson, Harriet C. Tice, Ruth L. Vincent, Helen L. Vincent, Mrs. Maude Waggoner, Ruth L. Walker, Mary E. Weinert, Mrs. Hilda M. Weitbrecht, Carlotta R. Whitman, Charlotte Wiederhoft, Clara M. Williams, Marjorie Wolkoff, Eleanore L. Young, A. Eleanor Young, Betty Jean Zbinden, Helen L.
Brown, Bert Casner, L. Fred Chen, Ren-Bing Collins, Maxwell R. Curtis, Quin F. Dejonge, James J., Jr. Dembinsky, Seymour H. Dixon, Charles M. Edmonds, John Eggebrecht, William M. Elder, John D. Engel, Robert Finch, George Fleming, Dale E.
Howell, Edwin D. Jean, Karl F. Jenkin, F. Wilson Katzenmeyer, Edwin B. Kinsman, Robert O. Kondratowicz, Raymond Liston, Douglas McCarthy, Bennett J. McDonald, Bruce Magoon, Clair L. Matthews, Ralph V. Meddaugh, David H. Meyer, George Murton, Clarence
Nelson, Carl A. Offenbach, Harry M. Pak, Hisung Samuels, Burrell Sanders, Burton N. Siegel, Harry D. Stavropoulos, Peter S. Steidtmann, Waldo E. Suda, Frank C. Swann, David H. Timm, Wesley C. Weinert, Arthur A. Witheridge, David
Aaron, Benjamin Anketell, Thomas J., Jr Austin, Henry R. Austin, J. Perry Bailey, Irwin T. Bauer, Paul I. Benner, Alvin N. Bills, Mark W. Bourland, Philip E. Bovee, Kenneth Brown, Eric V. Burchuk, David Burnett, Earl D. Callahan, Allen B. Carr, Arthur J. Clark, Ralph B., Jr. Clark, Robert Conlin, Joseph Dunks, Hudson G. Eager, Frank R. Fairbank, Chandler D. Foote, Edward W. Fredrickson, Carl M. Gardiner, Sprague Goldberg, Louis S.
Goodman, Julian M. Hart, Thomas A., Jr. Herron, Rolfe M. Hinterman, W. A. Hirsch, Bernard B. Hirshberg, Stuart O. Houdek, J. John Houseman, Henry M. Ingold, John F. Isbeiter, John Johnson, Thor M. Jones, Walter Klein, Harry Kunin, Israel Lansdale, David B. Lichtenwanger, William J. McCarty, George R. McDonald, Thane McNeill, Charles L. Magaw, David Massel, Menachem Meyer, Henry J. Morgan, Charles O. Morse, Lawrence Mosajgo, John
Nachimson, Frederick Nothdurft, Milton H. Peck, Mordant E. Reinhart, Robert S. Rosenthal, James K. Sanford, Robert B. Seaman, William B. Sherman, John C. Sleet, Marshall C. Stallard, Charles Stein, Donald M. Straw, Harold T. Stroebe, George W. Treadway, Robert H. Tustison, Keith H. Wagenseil, William Watts, Jerome H. Weinberg, Edwin B. Welmers, Everett T. Wilkens, Randolph M. Wolfner, William Wright, Kenneth O. Wyman, Howard C. Yergens, Paul E. Zbinden, Albert T.
Founded by Theodore Thomas in 1891
Frederick Stock, Conductor
Eric DeLamarter, Associate Conductor
Henry E. Voegeli, Manager
Forty-fourth Season--1934-193 5
Mischakoff, M. Weicher, J. Esser, F.
Hancock, W. Quick, R. Polesny, F. Charbulak, V. Martinson, M. Hand, A. Du Moulin, G. Morello, C. Barker, O. Dolnick, S. Leviton, S. Finerman, A. Zika, C. Del Missier, A. Kopp, E. Holz, F.
Evans, C. Perkins, H. Fiala, R. Lehnhoff, S. Linke, C. Sher, H. Rittner, F. Coleman, A.
VIOLONCELLOS Saidenberg, D. Wagner, R. Zedeler, N. Novy, J. Beidel, R. Trnka, A.
Jiskra, V. Houdek, J. Lipschutz, S. Fahsbender, R. Kovar, A. Hyna, O.
HARP Vito, J.
FLUTES Liegl, E. Eck, E. Van Vactor, D.
Mueller, F. Ruckle, L. Napolilli, F.
CLARINETS Lindemann, R. Evenson, S. Schaller, L.
BASSOONS Fox, H. Rabe, H. Ulrich, H.
HORNS Lecce, P. Pottag, M. Mourek, J. Erickson, F. Johnson, H.
TRUMPETS Benge, E. Masacek, E. Llewellyn, E.
Geffert, E. Anderson, D. Gunther, A.
TUBA Hamburg, G.
TIMPANI Metzenger, E.
Veseley, B. Sayers, L.
Organized in 1879. Incorporated in 1881.
Henry Simmons Frieze, 1879-1889 Alexander Winchell, 1889-1891 Francis W. Kelsey, 1891-1927 Charles A. Sink, 1927MUSICAL DIRECTORS Calvin B. Cady, 1883-1888 Albert A. Stanley, 1888-1921 Earl V. Moore, 1921THE MAY FESTIVAL
Founded by Albert A. Stanley in 1894
MUSICAL DIRECTORS Albert A. Stanley, 1894-1921 Earl V. Moore, 1922ORGANIZATIONS
Boston Festival Orchestra. Emil Mollenhauer, Conductor, 1894--1904 Chicago Symphony Orchestra. Frederick Stock, Conductor, 1904--; Eric De
Lamarter, Associate Conductor, 1918-University Choral Union. Albert A. Stanley, Conductor, 1894-1921; Earl V.
Moore, Conductor, 1922-Young People's Festival Chorus, trained by Florence B. Potter, and conducted
by Albert A. Stanley, 1913-1918
Conductors: Russell Carter, 1920; George O. Bowen, 1921-24; Joseph E. Maddy, 1925-27; Juva N. Higbee, 1928-The Stanley Chorus, trained by Margaret Martindale, 1934
Gustav Hoist (London, England) 1923, 1932 Howard Hanson (Rochester) 1926, 1927, 1933, 1935 Felix Borowski (Chicago) 1927 Percy Grainger (New York) 1928
1894. Manzoni Requiem, Verdi
Damnation of Faust, Berlioz
Lohengrin, Act I, Finale from Meistersinger, Wagner
Arminius, Bruch; Stabat Mater, Rossini
Manzoni Requiem, Verdi
German Requiem, Brahms; Samson and Delilah, Saint-Saens
Lily Nymph, Chadwick; Hora Novissima, Parker
Elijah, Mendelssohn; Golden Legend, Sullivan
Orpheus, Gluck; Faust, Gounod
Caractacus, Elgar; Aida, Verdi
Fair Ellen, Bruch; Dream of Gerontius, Elgar; Carmen, Bizet
St. Paul, Mendelssohn; Arminius, Bruch
Stabat Mater, Dvorak; A Psalm of Victory, Stanley; Aida, Verdi
Messiah, Handel; Samson and Delilah, Saint-Saens
Creation, Haydn; Faust, Gounod
Seasons, Haydn; Damnation of Faust, Berlioz
Fair Ellen, Bruch; Odysseus, Bruch; New Life, Wolf-Ferrari
Judas Maccabeus, Handel; Eugene Onegin, Tchaikowsky
Dream of Gerontius, Elgar; Samson and Delilah, Saint-Saens; Chorus Triomphalis,
1913 Laus Deo, Stanley; Manzoni Requiem, Verdi; Lohengrin, Act I, and Finale from
Meistersinger, Wagner; The Walrus and the Carpenter (Children), Fletcher
Caractacus, Elgar; Messiah, Handel; Into the World (Children), Benoit
New Life, Wolf-Ferrari; Children's Crusade, Pierne
Paradise Lost, Bossi; Samson and Delilah, Saint-Saens; Children at Bethlehem
(Children), Pierne
1917 Dream of Gerontius, Elgar; Aida, Verdi; The Walrus and the Carpenter (Children), Fletcher
1918 The Beatitudes, Franck; Carmen, Bizet; Into the World (Children), Benoit
Ode to Music, Hadley; Faust, Gounod; Fair Land of Freedom, Stanley
Manzoni Requiem, Verdi; Damnation of Faust, Berlioz
Elijah, Mendelssohn; Aida, Verdi; Voyage of Arion (Children), Moore
New Life, Wolf-Ferrari; A Psalmodic Rhapsody, Stock; Tannhiiuser (Paris Version), Wagner; A Song of Spring (Children), Busch
1923 B-minor Mass (Excerpts), Bach; fHymn of Jesus, Hoist; Dirge for Two Veterans,
Hoist; Samson and Delilah, Saint-Saens
1924 B-minor Mass (Excerpts), Bach; fLa Primavera (Spring), Respighi; fSea Drift,
Delius; Excerpts from Aida and La Forza del Destino, Verdi
1925 The Bells, Rachmaninoff; B-minor Mass (Excerpts), Bach; La Gioconda, Ponchielli; Alice in Wonderland (Children), Kelley
World Premiere at the May Festival Concerts tAmerican Premiere at the May Festival Concerts
1926 Elijah, Mendelssohn; Lohengrin, Wagner; The Lament of Beowulf, Hanson; The
Wajrus and the Carpenter (Children), Fletcher
1927 Missa Solemnis, Beethoven; fChoral Symphony, 2d and 3d movements, Hoist; Carmen, Bizet; Heroic Elegy, Hanson; Voyage of Arion (Children), Moore
1928 St. Francis of Assisi, Pierne; Marching Song of Democracy, Grainger; Aida, Verdi;
Quest of the Queer Prince (Children), Hyde
1929 German Requiem, Brahms; New Life, Wolf-Ferrari; Samson and Delilah, SaintSaens; Hunting of the Snark (Children), Boyd
1930 Magnificat, Bach; King David, Honegger; Manzoni Requiem, Verdi; A Symphony
of Song (Children), Strong
1931 St. Francis of Assisi, Pierne; Boris Godunof (original version), Moussorgsky; Old
Johnny Appleseed (Children), Gaul
1932 Creation, Haydn; Symphony of Psalms, Strawinsky; fChoral Fantasia, Hoist;
fLegend of Kitesh, Rimsky-Korsakov; The Spider and the Fly (Children), Protheroe
1933 Belshazzar's Feast, Walton; Merry Mount, Hanson; Spring Rapture (Children),
1934 The Seasons, Haydn; fEin Friedenslied, Heger; Ninth Symphony, Beethoven; By
the Rivers of Babylon, Loeffler; The Ugly Duckling, English
1935 Songs from "Drum Taps," Hanson; King David, Honegger; Boris Godunof (original version), Moussorgsky; Jumblies (Children), James
?World Premiere at the May Festival Concerts tAmerican Premiere at the May Festival Concerts

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