CHAPTER VIII.
THE CONTEMPORARIES OF BEETHOVEN.

I.

The career of Beethoven, extending well into the nineteenth century, overlaps the rise and growth of the Romantic Movement,—a movement that embodied tendencies with which his later works show sympathetic accord. The authors of this new departure were instigated by poetic aspirations closely allied to those of Beethoven; and since his creative horizon was constantly expanding, the idealistic texture of his productions and theirs was harmoniously interwoven. But while the scope of German art was being assimilated into channels of which the objective was natural emotion so expressed as to be portrayed in tangible form, Rossini's seductive charm had hypnotized all Europe, with the result that the progress even of Beethoven was momentarily hampered and his immediate reputation eclipsed. Therefore before proceeding to a further analysis of orchestration as advanced by the exponents of the Romantic Movement with which all prominent German composers after Beethoven are to be more or less conspicuously identified, a final bird's-eye view of musical activity in other countries will properly conclude the history of the so-called classic era. To do this it will be necessary to take up again the thread of dramatic development which we have already traced as far as Grétry, in whom the first period of opéra comique may be said to have culminated. Moreover for the sake of continuity, this discussion may well include such of the nineteenth century composers as were not noticeably affected by the magnetism of the romanticists or of the sequent "New Movement." And the preferential arena for the reproduction of both French and Italian works was still the Parisian stage, in which was vested the dangerous power of passing conclusive judgment upon the offerings of her votaries. Consequently, the characteristics of such luminaries as were deemed worthy of her benisons can be briefly summed up without regard to nationality; and these meteor-like apparitions captivated in turn the entire musical world, to the neglect of the worthier creations of Gluck and Mozart.

The lyric genre as bequeathed by Grétry was ardently cultivated by a series of sturdy exponents including his contemporary of evanescent fame d'Alayrac, followed by Boieldieu, Isouard, a native of Malta, the long-lived Auber, Hérold, Halévy, Adam. All but the last of these were born in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, being, together with the domiciliated Isouard, typical Frenchmen, devoted to national tradition, style of writing, and methods of instrumentation. And conspicuously through the collective efforts of Boieldieu, Auber and Hérold was the standard of opéra comique elevated to high dignity. This exclusive aggrandizement of the lyric stage by native composers affords a striking contrast to the history of opera in serious vein. For in reference to the latter, the attitude of the public was marked by illogical preferentiation, in consequence of which their vacillating plaudits were bestowed with but scant discrimination. True, French composers at first tenaciously held their own, as exemplified by the sterling achievements of Méhul (1763) and by the fleeting triumphs of his contemporaries, Lesueur, Berton, Catel. Nor did subsequently the more important representatives of the lyric style such as Boieldieu, Auber and Halévy allow undisputed sway to foreign interlopers in the field of grand opera. And the so-called "historic school" of grand opera, first introduced by the Italian, Spontini (1774), and eventually abused by the German, Meyerbeer (1791), was admirably exploited by Auber's "La Muette di Portici," which was produced the year after Beethoven's death. This work directly paved the way for "Guillaume Tell," the crowning achievement of Rossini (1792), as well as for Meyerbeer's initiatory embodiment of French romanticism, "Robert le Diable." Sequent to the baneful revival by Rossini of more or less retrogressional Italian opera appeared the mellifluous fabrications of Donizetti (1797) and of Bellini (1802), with which undramatic productions must be classed also the earlier works of Verdi (1813) in consequence of their voluptuous melodic exuberance.

In Germany, meanwhile, the standard of opera in lighter vein was upheld by Konradin Kreutzer (1780), the heir of Hiller and Dittersdorf. In England, the pianist, Field (1782), was initiating a new style of writing for the pianoforte that was to serve as a model for Chopin.

II.

It is proper that the compositions of Cherubini (1760-1842) be treated apart from those of his contemporaries, for they are in many respects distinct by themselves. The fact that he was born in Italy bears little relation to the style of his productions, for only in his earlier works are Italian methods particularly noticeable. The name of Cherubini has become immortal chiefly on account of his church music, of which he is the first truly great modern master. Nor must his permanent influence upon the form of French opera be underestimated, notwithstanding the fact that his own operas were only moderately successful. For the Gluck-Piccini controversy impressed him deeply; moreover, Mozart's operas were at that time already exciting world-wide admiration. As a result of these powerful influences, Cherubini was led to combine both the German and the French styles, as exemplified in "Lodoiska"; and henceforth the drama of France may be said to have acquired permanent and definite form.

The chief characteristics of his church music consist of a fusion of the elevated style of the sixteenth century, a severe yet masterly contrapuntal treatment, and withal a remarkable clearness in form and details. These models of sacred writing which belong, perhaps, more particularly to the French school, are convincing proof that so-called antiquated principles can be assimilated into modern methods. Lavoix calls attention to the criticism that whereas Cherubini's operas were not sufficiently dramatic, his church music was too much so. This may be true; but the purity and nobility of subject-matter, the warmth and breadth in instrumentation, counteract any possible theatrical tendencies.

The orchestra is much used in Cherubini's sacred works. The orchestration is flexible and vivid; each instrument is treated judiciously, and the tonal color is ever sonorous and varied. Prout refers to the Requiem in C minor as being a splendid piece of sombre tone-painting, and masterful in its appropriateness. The opening chorus is remarkable for its pathos, being scored for divided violas and 'cellos, double-basses, two bassoons, two horns and muffled kettle-drums. In the introduction to the "Chant sur la Mort de Joseph Haydn," an extended passage for four violoncellos con sordini proves that Rossini was not the first to discover the value of their independent employment. In the same work, one of Wagner's procedures in the use of the bass-tuba is anticipated in that the opheicleide is detached from its usual alliance to the trombones, and is employed alone as a reduplication of the double-basses. Cherubini was conservative in the use of the brass, although in isolated cases, where special effects were needed, larger choirs of loud-voiced instruments are, of course, to be found. As an example, the mass in A calls for four horns, three trombones, and an opheicleide. On the other hand, the instrumentation of Cherubini's operas shows greater reserve, and in one or two cases, entire acts are effectively scored without once drawing upon either trumpets or kettle-drums. It might be added that an interesting example for English horn is to be found in "Anacréon"; that the instrument was as yet but rarely heard in France is demonstrated by the fact that Cherubini felt it necessary to write "clarinet ad libitum" under the English horn part.

III.

Méhul (1763-1817) ranks among the greatest evolutionists of French instrumentation. His talents developed at an early age; his career was one of steady progress, and culminated in "Joseph," one of the loftiest dramatic works France possesses. Following in Gluck's footsteps, he emphasized the value of declamation and made much use of melodrama. The operatic overtures also were carefully developed. Although his orchestration was somewhat heavy, and embodied the frequent repetition of certain stereotyped formulas, he proved himself a worthy successor to Gluck in the successful portrayal of dramatic personages by means of instrumental expression. Much of his music is decidedly picturesque even though his instrumentation is lacking in daintiness. The distinctive features of Méhul's orchestration are sonority, novel combinations, and at times a certain melancholy coloring. The earliest use of low string effects is attributed to him, and especial prominence was given to the viola. As is well known, his opera "Uthal" is unique in that violins are absent throughout the entire work. The harp is an important factor in both "Uthal" and "Joseph." Méhul showed considerable partiality for the brass, and more than once, four horn parts are to be found in his scores.

Lesueur (1763) has been called the predecessor of Berlioz as an exponent of "program" music. He was fond of grand and majestic combinations, but was artistically more successful in writing for the church than for the drama. He was fortunate in having under his control a large orchestra at the Notre Dame, and his contributions to French instrumentation in detail are important. He frequently multiplied the violin parts into four, and even divided the violas. Again, the violins were at times omitted, although he did not go to the extent of leaving them out through an entire work as Méhul did in his opera "Uthal." Lesueur may have indirectly influenced Wagner's scoring of the tetralogy in that twelve harps, divided into two sections, are required for a faithful rendition of "Les Bardes," and in a footnote he specifically exacts a predominance of harp quality of tone. Like many of his subsequent compatriots, he frequently made requisition for curious instruments of percussion.

IV.

In turning to the works of Boieldieu (1775-1834), we find therein a refreshing example of naïveté, spontaneous originality, and flowing melody. Italian tendencies are noticeable, but the style remains pure and distinctly French. Though "La Dame Blanche" does not contain the attributes of profound scholarship, it satisfies in full the requirements of refined and poetic French comedy. Schumann regarded some of Boieldieu's creations as the representative comic operas of the world. His orchestra is not large and it is rarely used in its entire strength. The key-note is dainty scoring; the singing can always be distinctly heard, and although few novel effects of instrumentation are to be noted, variety and contrast of tone are constantly to be met with. The accompaniment is ever appropriate, and especially the clarinet and horns receive characteristic treatment. Moderation in the use of the brass was carried to such an extent that trombones are frequently omitted altogether, and even in "La Dame Blanche" only one was employed. In one opera not even trumpets and kettle-drums are to be found.

The founder of the lyric drama in the modern sense was Auber (1782-1871). The pillars of modern lyric drama are genuine dramatic expression, varied resources, and extensive proportions. Add to these charming melody, sparkling instrumentation and piquant coloring, and we have the sum total of Auber's creations. He was, perhaps, the most typically French composer that ever lived, and yet his orchestration is not that of an innovator. He accepted the already existing French and Italian characteristics of instrumentation, but adapted them to the needs of his poetic instincts. The functions of his orchestra are essentially those of accompaniment, and the dramatic situations are lightly sketched rather than elaborately portrayed. And this lightness of touch, together with grace and elegance, is already to be found in "La Muette de Portici," as well as in the more popular "Fra Diavolo."

In spite of the fact that Auber's orchestra presents nothing actually new, the charm of his instrumentation has exerted great influence upon that art in France. When the full orchestra is employed, the effect is sonorous without being noisy, ever clear yet scintillating. For more subdued effects, Auber was especially happy in the choice of mixed tonal tints, such as the reduplication, by a piccolo flute in the octave, of a melody given to one of the wood-instruments. Moreover, he was the first to employ the piccolo in piano passages. And whether reference be made to his use of soft chords for the trombones, or to his dainty triangle effects,—these are but a suggestion of the many characteristic insignia that distinguished his sterling achievements.

The operas of Hérold (1791) contain strong expressive and dramatic attributes. His form and instrumentation show German rather than Italian influence, modified withal by unquestionable French coloring. The impress of "Don Juan" and of "Freischütz" is especially noticeable in the overture to "Zampa," his representative work; three principal themes from the opera itself are more or less scientifically developed, and the manner of writing for certain wind instruments like the clarinet in some ways resembles that of Weber. Although Hérold's orchestration does not embody that transparency and that grace which characterize the scores of Auber, it is more compact, and his accompaniments conform to the demands of the dramatic situation. He occupied himself also with chamber music and concert overtures, which are superior in form to many similar efforts of prominent contemporary French writers, even though they are insignificant in comparison with German models.

The works of Halévy (1799) present a perplexing composite of genuine art and sensational trivialities. Frequently carried away by desire for pomp and effervescent personal glory, he nevertheless gave the art of dramatic scoring a powerful impetus toward modern methods. His instrumentation is often like Meyerbeer's, and Rossinian tendencies are apparent as well. Nevertheless, his pages are imbued with his own individuality. Each instrument received characteristic treatment when not used in massed harmonic combinations. The strings were employed with much skill and variety, as exemplified, for instance, by phrases for violins alone in four parts, or for solo 'cellos in five parts. The former idea bears the germ of Wagner's subsequent ethereal string passages, whereas the latter corresponds to Rossini's familiar 'cello scoring in "Guillaume Tell." The wood-wind played an important part as dramatic interpreter, with especial attention to the expressive characteristics of the English horn and the clarinet. Above all, Halévy was an untiring advocate in behalf of improving and supplementing both the variety and functions of the brass, and was strongly in support of the newly invented instruments of Sax. As components of the orchestra proper, they were not used aggressively, although, of course, when they appeared as an independent cohort upon the stage itself, their united efforts inclined toward the bombastic. Halévy was among the first to employ a second couplet of valve horns in addition to the customary natural horns, and the manner of writing for them displays a marked departure from previous usage. Besides absorbing into the orchestra proper different varieties of sax-horns and especially the sax-tuba, he employed at times as many as eight trumpets. A part for a soprano trombone is likewise to be found in one of his scores. "La Juive" is the embodiment of Halévy's higher ideals and novel orchestral combinations, and among other interesting details of instrumentation, the employment of two English horns, the trombone solo in the fourth act, and the semi-military band on the stage will readily be recalled.

V.

Brief mention is due to the "historic school" which found its first exponent in Spontini (1774-1851). The tenets of this school were in sympathetic accord with the general desire for pomp attendant upon the ascendency of Napoleonic imperialism. And Spontini's masterpiece "La Vestale" entirely satisfied these demands. For in spite of many glaring defects, it is a worthy example of superb dramatic power. In this work, a new style of orchestration was inaugurated, one that has been more or less imitated by all French writers since his time. Spontini transplanted into serious opera a principle with which already Piccini and Paesiello had experimented in their lighter operas, in that, for the description of certain picturesque episodes, the orchestra appears as chief exponent, the voice as secondary.

Entirely new was the amalgamation of the whole orchestra into one mighty organism by means of doubling and redoubling each part, similar to the practice of adding the four- and two-foot stops in organ playing. Each of the three choirs is harmonically complete by itself; being absorbed into the general Melos, it is, of course, impossible for the ear to analyze the combined tone-color. Such massive tonal edifices are the embodiment of unity and sonority, but there is danger of monotony, and, as Gevaërt remarks, this method of orchestration was subsequently abused by Rossini. Spontini's style embodies much that is German, and his mastery of brilliant effects is unrivalled. And although he frequently lowered the standard of his works by a craving for ostentation, the details are carefully worked out and the orchestration is rich and manly.

With the advent of Rossini (1792-1868), the triumph of Italian aria was resumed. His operas are the embodiment of Italian emotionalism. But although much of his music must be condemned as entirely irrelevant to the demands of the dramatic situation or of the sentiment to be expressed, his orchestration was certainly an advance upon antecedent Italian methods. On the other hand, there are but few new features in his instrumentation; this consisted of certain restricted and oft-repeated formulas, of which, however, Rossini had perfect command. His crowning achievement was, of course, "Guillaume Tell." Here the orchestration plainly betrays a happy fusion of Italian and French styles. The string writing is full of life; due regard is shown to the wind instruments, and effective solos are assigned more particularly to the English horn and the French horns. The improvements that Rossini made in horn writing were probably due to the fact that his father was a horn player. Parenthetically, the same statement might be made in reference to Richard Strauss. It is also interesting to note in passing that Rossini used two batons in conducting,—a short one for arias and a long one for ensemble.

VI.

At this point it is fitting that we examine the dazzling orchestration of Meyerbeer (1791-1861), for his career is, of course, inseparably allied with the evolution of French opera. As the most famous representative of French romantic and historic grand opera, Meyerbeer would appear, at first sight, to have embraced in his operas every conceivable meretricious device for the sensational and the spectacular. He was above all an eclectic, modelling his works largely after those of Spontini, being likewise strongly influenced by Weber, combining German harmony, Italian melody, and French rhythm. His was a marked departure from the school of Gluck—so much so, that he has been accused of "playing with dynamic effects" and writing "hollow" music that cannot withstand æsthetic analysis. In a large measure such censure is merited, but it is manifestly an error in judgment to declare as one writer does that his productions are comprised of but "dazzling effects, glaring contrasts, and clever instrumental devices." True, the contents of his operas are certainly an alternating mixture of the grandiose and the paltry, but as for orchestration, none have surpassed him in judicious distribution of sonorous masses, in forceful dramatic effects, richness of details, and successful application of the individual characteristics of each instrument. Again, the consistent recurrence of a specific tone-color as the annotator to a dramatic personage contains the germ of the Leit-motiv. And for ever varying resource of instrumentation few can excel him! And no composer before him was his peer as a dramatic painter.

Meyerbeer of course relied primarily upon the strings as the basis of his orchestra, but they are frequently replaced by independent combinations of wind instruments. In this connection, it is worthy of especial note that complete groups of kindred instruments are employed alone, and almost invariably in complete four part harmony. Meyerbeer's scoring for full orchestra was practically identical with Spontini's; each group is again complete in four part harmony, doubled and redoubled in the octave. Though his accompaniments are heavy, it will be found that the voice is usually supported by a solo instrument. He developed great variety in string writing. The violins and violoncellos are frequently subdivided into numerous parts. The characteristics of high violins and again of low double-basses soli are brought into prominence. Passages are to be found in which parts of the strings are muted while the remainder are simultaneously employed without mutes. The viola d'amore is carefully treated, as, for instance, in Raoul's Romance in the first act of "Les Huguenots." The harp is used extensively, both in arpeggios and in broad chords. The English horn and bass-clarinet are constantly used as regular constituents of the secondary group, and the latent dramatic powers of the clarinet are intensified; again, every one is familiar with the earliest of bass-clarinet solos in "Les Huguenots." Apart from more common methods of employing the wood-wind group by itself, Meyerbeer was fond of peculiar combinations such as piccolo flute and English horn, or bass-clarinet and trumpet an octave apart. Further entirely novel combinations are the assignment of a melody to the English horn and bass-clarinet in unison, or the redoubling of the violoncellos by a flute two octaves above. Great variety in mixed tints is to be found. The most common is the combination in solo passages of violoncello and bassoon; more complex is the union of violins, tremolo, together with three flutes, all in the high range, while an English horn or a bass-clarinet produces the melody below. Or two clarinets and two bass-clarinets are united to violoncellos in three-part writing. One of Meyerbeer's chief contributions to instrumentation lay in his methods of scoring for the brass. In "Les Huguenots" a veritable military band is introduced upon the stage; the band includes both reeds and brass—likewise piccolo flutes. And the newly invented sax-horns were drawn into requisition for "Le Prophète." The kettle-drums acquired greater freedom than even Beethoven had allowed them, and "Robert le Diable" contains actual solos for the instruments. In different works, as many as three and four kettle-drums were employed. In conclusion, it is not necessary to dwell upon the realistic impression provoked by the sounding of a gong in connection with the Resurrection of the Nuns in "Robert le Diable"; nor need the reader be reminded of the deep-toned bell used for the Massacre of St. Bartholomew in "Les Huguenots." All in all, though Meyerbeer's scoring is frequently brutal, it is intensely dramatic and original.

VII.

We have now traced the wonderful growth of orchestration through the entire eighteenth century and well into the nineteenth. And the contributions thereto by the great Italian and French masters are by no means to be underestimated even though the German classicists tower above them. A final summing up of their general methods of instrumentation will properly conclude this chapter.

The classic symphony realizes its principal effects from the dialogue of instruments rather than from their collective forces. The primary object was clearness of polyphonic design, and since clearness of detail does not admit of great force, the first and second orchestral groups were rarely united other than in forte passages.

When examining the scores of the classics, it is important to keep in mind that in their day the numerical distribution of the string band was limited. Therefore force and volume of tone could only be obtained by keeping the intermediate and lower parts constantly in motion. Particularly the violas were inadequately represented, and it will be found that any important viola melody was almost invariably doubled by some other instrument.

The classic use of the flute for tuttis was generally like that of a four-foot organ stop. Many of the earlier functions of the oboe gradually passed to the more responsive clarinet. But the frequent employment of divided violas as auxiliary to the wind was due to the former absence of adequate contralto wind instruments.

The larger symphonic orchestra of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven added two trumpets to the third group, acquiring thereby a feminine metallic diapason capable of masculine energy. In the exposition of their symphonies, the classicists usually gave the first theme to the strings, the second to the wood. The brass was reserved for climaxes, and the trumpets entered last. But the limitation of the "natural" trumpet was detrimental for employing it with invariable symmetry in the recurrence of thematic design. In employing the full orchestra, held chords were assigned to the second group as a support to the strings, whereas the third group added short rhythmic chords.

Operatic effects are obtained by contrast of collective forces rather than by detail of polyphony. The earlier Italian composers made frequent use of loud-voiced instruments. Their successors, however, learned to rely more and more upon the strings, so that not until the advent of Spontini and Rossini were the proper functions of the brass or even of the wood again sufficiently recognized in Italy.

From Philidor to Boieldieu, French orchestration was still somewhat heavy, though of dramatic effectiveness. The scoring of Méhul and Lesueur was powerful and dignified, that of Boieldieu, Berton, Grétry, supple and dramatic. Finally, in the first part of the nineteenth century French orchestration became still more varied and rich.

It is now time to turn our attention to the rise of the Romantic Movement, and with this subject the next chapter properly begins.

(Summary on page 69.)