Glee and Madrigal Concert: 3rd

“A third concert of the delightful glees and madrigals which, on their first performance by an enthusiastic band of ladies and gentlemen during the Winter filled us all with such glad surprise, was given last night at Steinway Hall. The chorus on this occasion numbered 60 persons, only 15 of whom, we believe, sang in the previous concerts. The conductor was also different, Mr. James A. Johnson replacing Dr. James Brown. The programme contained rather a larger admixture of modern music, but fewer solos, which at any rate was an improvement. Several of the best of the madrigals which we heard before, such as ‘Fair Phillis I saw,’ ‘Down in a Flowery Vale,’ and ‘Since first I saw your face,’ were repeated. The performance, as a whole, was hardly equal to the former ones, yet with all its little defects, it was so refreshing and delightful, that we long to hear another. The audience certainly held out encouragement last night for a frequent series of similar entertainment.”

“The Madrigal Concert.

About fifty ladies and gentlemen, including number of those who sang at the recent madrigal concerts, repeated the entertainment last night at Steinway Hall, under the baton of Johnson. The performance was satisfactory, though scarcely up to its predecessors. The list of glees and madrigals included Festa’s ‘Down in a flowery vale;’ Stevens’s ‘Sigh no more ladies,’ ‘Wilbye’s ‘Flora gave me fairest flowers;’ Horsley’s ‘By Celia’s arbor;’ Fords ‘Since first I saw your face;’ Bishop’s ‘O by river;’ Mornington’s ‘As it fell upon a day;’ and Morley’s ‘Fair Phillis I saw.’ Interspered with these were more modern selections. There was a Tyrolese folk-song of Kucken, sung by Mrs. Fields, Miss Bulkley and Messrs. Pratt and Deyo. Bishop’s duet ‘As it fell upon a day’ was well rendered by Miss Brainerd and Mrs. Hawley Johnston. Mendelssohn’s ‘Victor’s Return,’ the charming Suabian melody ‘Dorothy,’ a chorus for female voices from Schumann’s ‘Paradise and the Peri,’ and several choruses for male voices were included in the programme. Especially admirable was a four-part chorus by J. L. Hatton, called ‘South Wind of the Summer,’ in which the highly descriptive character of the words was most effectively reproduced in the music, the composer finding in the vocalists last night the able interpreters of his masterly ideas. This selection, with many others on the programme, was enthusiastically encored.

There were but two solos. Miss Hutchings sang ‘The Spinnin’ Wheel,’ a Scotch ballad described as ‘wholly traditional;’ that is, the words, which are as follows, had never before been printed:

As I sat at my spinnin’ wheel,

A bonny laddie passed me by;

I turned me round and viewed him weel,

An’ O, I liked his glancin’ eye;

His looks unto my heart did steal;

But aye I turned my spinnin’ wheel.

My well-shaped hands he did extol,

He praised my fingers neat and small,

He said their nae was lady fair

That would at all wi’ me compare;

His words into my heart did steal;

But aye I turned my spinnin’ wheel.

He coaxed lay bye my rock an’ reel,

My windin’ an’ my spinnin’ wheel,

He coaxed me lay them a’ aside,

An’ go and be his bonny bride.

And O, I liked his words sae weel,

I laid aside my spinnin’ wheel.

Miss Brainerd, who generally added very much to the superiority of the vocal music, did not do herself justice in the romance from ‘Lurline,’ ‘Flow on, O Silver Rhine,’ a selection which is far more effective on the stage than in the concert room.

This concert will be followed in about two weeks by another of the same general character; and it is to be hoped that they will lead to the establishment of a permanent madrigal society. The efforts of the accomplished amateurs who sang last night is a step in the right dreiction, and deserves public encouragement. At the same time the performances are in places open to criticism. More volume of tone and vivacity of movement would have improved some of the madrigals; and an old English glee, written for male voices, loses much of its intended effect when the alto part is taken by a female voce.

A word of praise is due to the programme, the neatest and most tasteful thing of the kind we have yet seen. It contained all the words of the pieces sung, and the gratification of hearing the singing was greatly enhanced by thus knowing what it was all about. The system should be imitated in every first-class concert.”

“The Madrigal Society.

To the Editors of the Evening Post:

The criticism on the Madrigal Concert is in some respects inaccurate and in other points of view peculiar. The phrase ‘under the baton of Johnson’ is odd; the baton of Smith or Brown would be equivalent. There is a peculiar expression in reference to the solo, ‘The Spinner’s Wheel, described as wholly traditional;’ that is, ‘the words had never before been printed,’ thus giving the impression that the description of the ballad as wholly traditional was a humbug, although the programme states that the music has never been reduced to writing as far as known.

It is singular and unfriendly to find a suggestion that these concerts, it is to be hoped ‘will lead to the establishment of a permanent Madrigal Society.’ The society in question is already fully organized, with the expressed approbation of the public and the press, and hopes, with ordinary fair dealing, to be permanent. The closing criticism on the glee, ‘By Celia’s Arbor,’ is very peculiar: ‘An old English glee, written for male voices, loses much of its intended effect when the alto part is taken by a female voice.’ Now this part, in the edition of the glee by Boosey, the modern English publisher, is marked ‘alto,’ which, in all modern music, signifies the well-known female voice called contralto, and is so written that no male voice in America could reasonably undertake to sing it. It is true that in England, in ancient times, this part might have been taken by a boy or else by the so-called falsetto male voice. But the musical critic of the Evening Post would not enjoy hearing a boy’s ‘shrill pipe’ or the artificial falsetto in the leading melody of the glee, and he would not call them (at least the falsetto) male voices. M.W.”

“It is pleasant to know that madrigal music is finding a foothold among us.  There is something so healthy, so vigorous, fresh and sparkling about this quaint and delightful kind of composition, that the return to it is a most promising sign. On Monday evening, a concert was given at Steinway Hall by some sixty amateurs who have associated themselves permanently for the practice of this English music, and with the intention of giving the public, from time to time, the result of their labors. The enterprise is one that should command the hearty encouragement of every true friend of music. Such a friend it found at the outset in Mr. Steinway, who, with characteristic generosity in the cause of art, put his hall at the service of the young association on Monday evening, at the simple cost of lighting it. The Society has excellent material, and its conductor, Mr. James A. Johnson, is a gentleman, who has for many years been identified with this class of music, and to whom the works of Arne, Wilbye, Stevens, Spofforth, Morley, and the rest of the illustrious line of English composers, are as familiar as the alphabet is to the rest of us. He is, however, somewhat new to the conductor’s stand, and we beg to caution him against the quite unprofessional way he has of stamping with his foot. This method of marking time is thrown away upon a chorus, whose business it is to watch the conductor’s hand and not his feet, and is annoying to the audience. The thoroughness of Mr. Johnson’s drill was apparent in the fine precision and steadiness with which all the madrigals were given. It was clean-cut artistic singing, not lacking in light and shade, though quite capable of improvement in this direction by giving more force and vitality to the forte passages, and subduing to more of a whisper those intended to be sung pianissimo. This finish will come, however, shortly. As this concert is to be repeated in a fortnight, it may not be amiss to call attention—not captiously, but in an entirely friendly though critical spirit, to the points that seemed capable of improvement. The quartette, called ‘Tyrolese Volkslied’ gave no strength to the programme, either by its intrinsic merit or by the way in which it was sung. Miss Brainerd’s choice of the romance from ‘Lurline’ was a peculiarly weak one. Coming after Horsley’s beautiful quartette, ‘By Celia’s Arbor’ (most charmingly and effectively sung), its insipid sentimentality was doubly conspicuous. This composition by Wallace was as unlike those of the nobler composers by whom he was surrounded as honesty, frankness and vigor are unlike simpering affectation.

The male voice singing was vastly inferior to that of the mixed voices. In fact, judged from any high standpoint, it was very bad, and would have ruined the reputation of a [strictly?] male-voice club. Accurate, steady male voice singing, where every breathing point is looked [after?], every little item of expression attended to, and the whole moulded into absolute unity of effect [as?] regards the phrasing and inflections, is the [result of?] long labor and painstaking drill. It is an [?] months, and not of hours; and it is not to be [wondered?] at that the gentlemen of this chorus did not even approximate to it.

The main [?], however, was the glee and madrigal singing, and [?] we repeat, was most artistic and commendable. The Society has made a brilliant beginning. It starts not at the beginning, but far on upon the road to the highest excellence, and we trust that evey concert they may hereafter give will show a [?] milestone passed upon the way.”   

“The Madrigal Concert Again.

We yesterday published a communication from an esteemed correspondent taking exceptions to certain points in a criticism of the late madrigal concert. In reply, it may be said that the ballad of ‘The Spinnin’ Wheel’ is thus commented upon in the official programme of the concert: ‘The above ballad is entirely traditional; the words are now printed for the first time, and the music has never been reduced to writing, so far as known.’ We only borrowed then, as we do to-day, from official sources.

‘M.W.’ claims that in the glee ‘By Celia’s Arbor’ ‘alto’ means ‘a female voices called contralto.’ Our correspondent should remember that this glee was written by an English composer and for English singers, and that in England ‘alto’ means not a female but the highest male voices; and that, too, not a boy’s, but an adult man’s voice. Our correspondent adds that the alto of the glee in question ‘is so written that no male voices in America could reasonably hope to sing it.’ He perhaps has not heard the magnificent alto of Dr. Bartlett of this city (who specially excels in this particular class of music, and whose performance in this identical glee has won the warmest praise), of Mr. Nichols, of St. Johns’ choir, and other amateurs we might name.

We are glad to hear that the admirable band of singers who gave so promising an initiatory performance last Monday night, have formed themselves into a permanent society. Their influence and efforst cannot fail to advance the cause of genuine musical art in New York.”