A Short History of English Music

He would, of course, be able to state a much stronger case if he thought it desirable.

Look at the frequent productions in London of "musical comedies" or "comic operas," or whatever designation it is wished they should be known by.

They are usually on a scale both elaborate and costly, and sometimes of magnificence, but they attract people by the thousand, where a serious opera will fail to draw them by the hundred.

Here, there is no need of State aid. Why? Simply because they provide what the public want and are willing to pay for. In form, taste and atmosphere, they are the very antithesis of grand opera.

Should any of them show the least signs of demanding intellectual effort for immediate appreciation, the modern manager cuts out the offending matter, without a moment's hesitation, or the least compunction. The immense popularity these entertainments command is, unquestionably, a tribute to the sound judgment of those who control them. It is an interesting fact that within quite recent years, there has been a marked tendency to bring continental successes to London, and the music they have contained has often called forth eulogistic notices from the critics, on the occasions of their first performances. A visit to the theatre a month or so later, would, I fear, generally reveal the fact that most of it, which had earned such high praise, had been eliminated.

So accurate a judge of public taste as Mr. George Edwardes, is able to run three or four of such, or similar, pieces, simultaneously, in the West End of London, each of which must fill the house night after night for months together, before they show a profit, on so sumptuous a scale are they presented.

Viewing such facts as these, it is difficult to see on what grounds, really logical, any demand for help from the State can be made on behalf of grand opera, which it would be difficult to prove that the general public, apart from the comparatively few enthusiasts, have any desire for, when it is so abundantly evident that they are ever eager to support any kind of recreation or relaxation that they do want.

The basis of the plea is, no doubt, musical education for the masses; and, while such a desire must attract the sympathy of every music lover, it must be granted that the ability to appreciate Wagner, Elgar or Strauss, is not a necessary part of a working man's attainments. It might be a very desirable thing, but we are very evidently at a more utilitarian stage, the present day being regarded in its true light. The illustration may appear, at first sight, to be somewhat strained, but I venture to think it is not, judging by notices one reads in the papers, in which Mendelssohn's violin concerto is written of as, "a hackneyed medium of expression"; Gounod's "Faust" as full of "sickly sentimentality," or Bizet's "Carmen" as a work of "essential vulgarity." There may be an element of truth in either of these criticisms, and judged in the light of the writers' probable high standard of æsthetic tastes, they are justified, but they only emphasise the fact of the veritable abyss that separates the modern cultured musical critic from the musical "man in the street," in whose interest the proposition is put forward.

Supposing the government at any time, contemplated taking action in this direction, the first thing they would probably do, would be to appoint a Commission to enquire into the question.

It is only natural to suppose that among the first of those whose opinions would be sought, the eminent writers on music in the principal journals of the country, would be conspicuous. In this case, it may be taken for granted that unanimity will not be the chief characteristic of their utterances. For instance, I cannot bring myself to think of Mr. Joseph Bennett, whose services to music in the columns of the "Daily Telegraph," for many years were so generally recognised, writing in such terms of Mendelssohn's violin concerto.

The question teems with difficulties.

One school of thought asks for opera given exclusively in the English language and performed, as far as possible by British artists. Another, for opera given in the language in which it was composed, and rendered by singers of the country it represents, or those competent to sing adequately in it. Again, some urge that there should be occasional performances of such simple works as Balfe's "Bohemian Girl," which the least musically educated would be able to appreciate; while others would ban such operas altogether, on the grounds that they are out of the spirit of the age, and that their representation would be sheer waste of time and opportunity.

As an illustration of the absolutely divergent views on the subject held by authoritative opinion, I will make a quotation from the "Morning Post."29

It was written with regard to the interesting experiment that Mr. Hammerstein is now making in his effort to popularise opera in England.

"A cry has been raised that the performances should be in English. It shows a lamentable ignorance (the italics are mine) of operatic conditions prevailing at the present time. It would be well-nigh impossible for Mr. Hammerstein to give his performances in English at an earlier date than six months from now. There is no lack of English singers, but those with sufficient experience of the stage at present available to carry on a regular series of performances, can be numbered on the fingers of one hand."

If this opinion be justified, and I hope it is not, it suggests a sad commentary on the result of efforts made on behalf of operatic education in England from the time of Carl Rosa to that of Dr. Richter.

It seems to me that if opera is to become a living force in English musical life, as oratorio has been, there are certain essentials that must obtain.

In the first place the operas should be given in the English language, and the performers should be, as far as possible, of British race; the choice of works sufficiently eclectic to appeal to all classes, and the prices of admission to the performances, arranged on such a scale as not to be prohibitive to the average individual of more or less limited means.

The headquarters of such a company would, naturally, be in London, but an "operatic season" should be arranged for in the principal cities of the provinces.

The financial question naturally obtrudes itself, but I believe that a solution of the question is not beyond the wit of man to devise.

One thing is very certain, and that is the impossibility, under such a scheme, to pay the principal artists inflated salaries such as are in constant evidence to-day. In this respect it could not compete either with such an institution as the Royal Opera, with its exclusive and wealthy patrons, or the theatres producing light operas that enjoy runs of two years' or more duration.

On the other hand, the performances would have to be, if ultimate success were the sole end in view, on a higher level of all-round excellence than any that have been seen in recent years.30 Under some such conditions as these, there would seem to be nothing irrational in asking for government aid.

To have any national significance, the people, generally, must be attracted, and that object would, naturally, be the main thought of the officials, should such a desirable state of things ever come to pass.

The building of a beautiful theatre in London, and the establishing therein of an excellent company of foreign artists, with the view of producing foreign works in various languages, is, however interesting to the musical enthusiast, and courageous of the impresario in making such a venture with reduced prices of admission to the performances, of no national significance whatever. The experiment will, doubtless, prove whether a sufficiently numerous body of opera lovers, native and foreign, can be found in the metropolis to permit of its success. That is all. Thanks, nevertheless, the most cordial and ungrudging, are due to Mr. Hammerstein for the boon he has offered to the dwellers in London.

The thoughts, however, of all Englishmen who are interested in the music of their country, must necessarily turn to native product.

So far as opera is concerned, it is clear that there is much spade work to be done.

There is, however, in reality, no evidence to show that, granted circumstances were favourable, the old-time love of it, or such forms of it as were in existence centuries ago, is incapable of resurgence.

All that seems wanting, is the hour and the man.

At present, it cannot be said that the outlook, from the national point of view, is very hopeful.

Unless the native composer can see some definite reward for his labour, it is scarcely to be expected that he should devote his genius and energies to the composition of a work that may, perhaps, take the greatest part of his time for a year or more.

And yet no return, in the least degree equivalent to the labour expended, could be looked for as things are now.

If a committee of influential personages could be formed, and a scheme for the furtherance of English opera be inaugurated, with a work from the pen of Sir Edward Elgar, there is every reason to believe that an interest would be aroused in the country sufficient to guarantee immediate success, and settle, once and for all, the question whether, given fair conditions, the English people were in the disposition to welcome, not only opera in England, but English opera in England. I think the response would be of a character that every one interested in English music would ardently wish for.

CHAPTER IX

DISTINGUISHED MUSICIANS IN ENGLAND DURING THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

WILLIAM STERNDALE BENNETT

Birth – Family connected with English Church music – Enters Royal Academy of Music – Importance of the step – His work there – Proceeds to Leipzig – Schumann's appreciation of his genius – The German impress – His return to England – Life-long association with Royal Academy of Music – Bennett as pianist – Institutes chamber concerts – His conservative views – Rivalry of foreign musicians – His most important compositions – Founds The Bach Society – His place in musical history.

William Sterndale Bennett was born at Sheffield in 1816. Like the majority of celebrated English musicians, he came of a family long associated with the music of the Church; several of his relatives, including his grandfather, having been members of cathedral choirs.

When he was only eight years of age he entered the choir of King's College Chapel, Cambridge, and there became acquainted with, and as later events proved, influenced by, the ancient school of English ecclesiastical music, which, notwithstanding his subsequent foreign education, never entirely lost its effect on his mind.

He was not, however, perhaps unfortunately, allowed to remain there long, for after two years he was sent to the Royal Academy of Music in London, which was then a young institution in which the pupils were not only taught music and given an elementary general education, but were, at that period of its history, boarded as well.

It is certainly open to question whether it was a wise step on the part of his relatives to take, seeing that it removed him from a centre where all the surroundings were English – English thought, influence, music and all that goes to mark national characteristics – to one which was, however admirable from many points of view, to say the least, cosmopolitan in character.

A genius so precocious as Bennett would be perfectly capable to assimilate, even at so early an age, the spirit of the ancient school, and this he certainly accomplished to some extent at Cambridge: the fact that it subsequently became subservient to another was, simply, the result of the force of circumstances.

In the end, it cannot be denied that the spirit of German music practically obliterated it, and, while acknowledging the independence of thought that Bennett's music often displays, and which one likes to think may be owing to his Cambridge days, it must be admitted that its similarity in style to that of, above all, Mendelssohn's, detracts from the value that it would otherwise possess.

He remained at the Academy for several years, during which he wrote, among other things of note, two or three pianoforte concertos, the most popular, although not the best, being the one in F. It is related that one of its movements, which attained great popularity, was composed one afternoon when the other students were absent on a holiday excursion. Their delight when, on their return they heard The Barcarole, as it was called, was so great that, as the late Dr. Steggall, for many years Organist of Lincoln's Inn Chapel told me, they carried him in triumph round the concert-room on their shoulders. In 1836 he went to Leipzig to continue his studies, and there came under the immediate influence of Schumann and Mendelssohn.

That his abilities met with sincere appreciation is shown by the eulogistic way in which the former wrote of him in a musical journal he edited.

That Bennett's stay in Leipzig was a successful and even delightful experience, there is no room to doubt; it is, though, open to question whether it did not, to some extent, denationalize him as a musician. Men of his temperament and genius, are peculiarly open to exterior impressions, and going at an age of mental expansion and enthusiasm, everything that happened seems only natural. Blind ourselves, as one willingly would, the fact must be admitted that the German impress remained indelibly stamped on him during his whole life-time. It must in justice be remembered that when he was removed from Cambridge, at the age of ten, all essentially English thought, so far as music is concerned, became as a thing of the past.

He returned to England to remain permanently, after a second visit to Leipzig, in 1842. He was appointed a Professor of Music at the Royal Academy of Music about this time, and was associated with that institution, where his memory is held in just veneration, until he died in 1875.

His work there, in conjunction with composition, became the main occupation of his life. His energies were not, however, wholly confined to it.

He was a pianist of the first order. Indeed, I was told, many years ago by a celebrated pianoforte teacher, that his technique, in exactitude, compared favourably even with that of Mendelssohn himself.

Soon after his final settling in London, he commenced a series of chamber concerts, and continued to present the classical masterpieces of this form of music for about twelve years. It was his enthusiasm alone that accounts for this fact, not public support, for that, he may be said never to have received, to any appreciable extent.

His style was, perhaps, too refined and his tastes too rigidly classical.

In this respect he was, if one may be permitted to say so, somewhat narrow in his outlook. For instance, he could not tolerate Chopin's music, and, as one of them told me, would not permit his pupils to play it in his presence.

He was of a retiring disposition, and the arts of public advertising were as objectionable to him, as they appear to be acceptable to many performers to-day. Again, the rivalry of eminent foreign musicians and the conspicuous patronage they received in high quarters, which naturally aroused public interest in them, militated against his success, and so, feeling that the conditions were unequal, he withdrew from the arena. He was especially great as a player of Bach's music, to which he was intensely attached, and it may be at once admitted that he was entirely lacking in that emotional temperament, which seems to appeal so strongly to the feminine atmosphere that so frequently pervades the public concert-room.

He was essentially a player who most appealed to musicians. His personality must have been a fascinating one, for he aroused even passionate attachment in many of his pupils, and it has often been a source of interest to hear grey-headed men talk of his memory in the language of a lover.

His pianoforte music contains much that is both beautiful and original in style, the lovely sketches, "Lake," "Millstream" and "Fountain," being the best known and most popular.

The more important chamber compositions include a sestet for piano and strings, a trio, and a sonata for violincello and piano. In 1855, he produced his cantata, "May Queen," at the Leeds Festival, with great success. It contains much delightful music, and, like other of his works, the comparative neglect into which it has fallen, seems perfectly extraordinary. Nine years were to elapse before his great work, "The Woman of Samaria," was to appear at the Birmingham Festival.

If it created no great sensation at the time, that may be accounted for by the fact that he studiously avoided sensational effects. It is, however, characterised by nobility of thought, religious feeling, and perfect grace of expression. Although seldom performed as a whole, the touching quartet, "God is a Spirit," is in general use, and remains a model of beauty and simplicity.

This work, together with his overtures – especially the "Naiades" and "Paradise and the Peri" – and his pianoforte concertos in F and D minor, are the chief compositions on which his fame will principally rest.

Sterndale Bennett founded the Bach Society in 1849. His extraordinary enthusiasm for the works of the great master was a leading characteristic of his life, and was doubtless stimulated by Mendelssohn during his Leipzig days.

He was appointed conductor of the Philharmonic Society in 1856, and Principal of the Royal Academy of Music in 1866.

He was elected to the chair of music of Cambridge University in 1856, and was knighted by Queen Victoria in 1871.

It is difficult as yet to assign Sterndale Bennett's definite place in the history of music.

His genius, if not of the order that sways multitudes, was undoubted, and he seems to form, together with Samuel Sebastian Wesley, the connecting link between Henry Purcell and Sir Edward Elgar.

SIMS REEVES

Birth – His precocity – His musicianly attributes – His protest against the "high pitch" – Sims Reeves in opera – Association with Macready – Reeves in Italy – Triumphs in that country – First appearance in oratorio – Doubts expressed as to his probable success – Scene of enthusiasm after "Sound an alarm" – The greatest interpreter of Handel – His idiosyncrasies – His high standard of art.

John Sims Reeves, one of the greatest tenor singers of whom the world has any record, was born in Kent on October 21st, 1822. His genius as a child was early evident. At an age when the average boy is found playing cricket on the village green, as should be, this one was playing the organ at a village church near by.

It is an interesting reflection that, whereas the majority of singers confine their energies to the development of the voice alone, Sims Reeves, from his earliest years, was bent on mastering the mysteries of music – such as harmony and counterpoint.

He succeeded to this extent, that he became a thoroughly sound musician.

In the consideration of his career, this point must ever be borne in mind.

Sims Reeves was not only a singer, but he was a fine and well-instructed musician, and any opinion that he might put forward was entitled to respect, not only from the singer's point of view, but that of a musician whose erudition was unquestionable.

So, when he raised his voice against the abominable pitch that had been introduced into the country through the instrumentality of a foreign, cosmopolitan musician, he had the weight behind him, not only of a distinguished singer, but of a musician perfectly able to maintain the position he had taken up, on grounds both reasonable and logical.

The fact that his opinion, however strongly put forward, had no influence, is not a matter for surprise. In that Victorian period, the English musician was practically an alien in his own country.

Although Sims Reeves was destined to become, perhaps, the greatest of oratorio singers, his earliest successes were made in opera. His "first appearance on any stage"31 was at Newcastle, when he appeared as the "Gipsy Boy" in "Guy Mannering."

He was soon found, as would naturally arise, in London; Macready, the theatrical monarch of those days, and whose scene of operations was Drury Lane Theatre, attracting him.

Here, on the first occasion that presented itself, he made a success, that those gifted with any sense of perception, could easily see, indicated a great career, and the rising of a great sun in the firmament of music.

It was in Purcell's "King Arthur," and the particular number that was to make him famous was "Come, if you dare." In this connection, it is amusing to note the clashing of the artistic and managerial temperament; both, probably, at their highest expression. Macready insisted that the singer should address his adjuration to the warriors whom he was facing, with his back to the audience. The singer held an entirely opposite view, and wished to sing to the public. The fight was keen, and Sims Reeves apparently gave way.

On the night, however, he adopted an attitude that was not foreseen; pacing the stage sideways, he sang with his voice thrown at the audience, and threatening looks at the "supers," who were amazed at such an exhibition of liberty, and made a success that was not only great, but assured the management of a satisfactory issue to the adventure.

Macready, nevertheless, fined him £5 for disobedience!

He was from this moment recognised as a great singer.

Strong, however, in the consciousness of unusual gifts, he determined to test his powers on the Continent, and went to Paris. After a short stay there, he proceeded to Italy, where, after a few lessons from Mazzucato, he made his appearance as "Edgardo" in "Lucia di Lammermoor."

His success was great. The Italians, who have an abnormal love of the tenor voice, received him with acclamations, and his tour through the Italian cities was a triumphant progress. On his return to England, he was received as an "Italian" singer, and doubts were expressed as to his ability to sing oratorio music.

His first appearance in England, after his foreign experiences, was, again, in opera, as "Edgardo." Berlioz was conducting, and wrote thus: "Reeves has a beautiful voice, and sings as well as it is possible to sing in this frightful English language."

His first appearance in oratorio was made on February 10th, 1848, at Exeter Hall, in Handel's "Judas Maccabeus." All doubts were soon allayed as to his ability to interpret Handel's music.

It had been generally expressed that his success in opera made it improbable that he could succeed, to an equal degree, in gaining the affections of the English people in oratorio, their most loved medium of expression in music.

His success was immediate and triumphant. At the conclusion of "Sound an alarm," a scene of enthusiasm occurred that had never, previously, been known at an oratorio performance.

It set a mark on his career.

From that moment he was recognised as the greatest interpreter of Handel; and from that pinnacle of fame no subsequent singer has been able to move him. His popularity became immense. At every great music festival his appearance was regarded as a necessity, and, until his final refusal to sing at the artificial pitch that had been introduced by Costa, his interpretations of all the great masterpieces of oratorio music were looked forward to as things of national interest.

Sims Reeves was a great singer, and like most great artists, had idiosyncrasies. On one occasion, Sir Arthur Sullivan (then Mr., and a young man) went down to his beautiful place at Norwood, to play over the music written for him, in a forthcoming production. He heard it through, and then said, "My dear Arthur, the music is quite beautiful, but it would be difficult to say for what voice it was written." Certain passages had to be revised to suit him.

That this would, naturally, be done, all those who knew Sullivan's character would easily understand.

Sims Reeves continued to be, for many years, the idol of the British public, and it is only just to say that he deserved the distinction, being as he was, a man of sterling character, and one whose ideals were ever high.

MADAME NORMAN-NERUDA (LADY HALLÉ)

Her Birth – Precocity – Learns the violin at four years of age – First of women violinists – Sensation at her first public appearance – Arrival in London – Plays at Philharmonic concert, being ten years old – Tour in Russia – Arrives in Paris – Arouses enthusiasm – Second visit to London – Memorable consequences – Association with Popular Concerts, directed by Arthur Chappell – Her great fame – Her character – Association with Hallé – Their memorable concerts – Experiences in England – Her position in musical history.