Theodore Thomas’s Annual Vocal and Orchestral Concert

Event Information

Venue(s):
Irving Hall

Conductor(s):
Theodore Thomas [see also Thomas Orchestra]

Price: $1

Event Type:
Orchestral

Performance Forces:
Vocal

Record Information

Status:
Published

Last Updated:
23 September 2020

Performance Date(s) and Time(s)

09 May 1863, 8:00 PM

Program Details



Program order from New York Times.

Performers and/or Works Performed

2)
aka The Magic Flute; Zauberflote, Die
Composer(s): Mozart
Participants:  Thomas Orchestra
3)
Composer(s): Rossini
Text Author: Rossi
Participants:  Elena Angri
4)
aka Harold in Italy;
Composer(s): Berlioz
6)
aka Polonaise, op. 22, E-flat major; Grande polonaise brillante
Composer(s): Chopin
Participants:  Sebastian Bach Mills
7)
Composer(s): Bellini
Text Author: Romani
Participants:  Elena Angri
8)
Composer(s): Beethoven
Participants:  Thomas Orchestra

Citations

1)
Announcement: New-York Times, 04 May 1863.
“Why anyone should undertake an entertainment that does not leave the ghost of a chance for a profit, and with hideous pleasantry call it an annual benefit, are questions that can only be answered by youth and ambition, and that incomprehensible, if not idiotic delight in labor, which, Shakespeare says, physics pain. . . . On Saturday next, in addition to the usual items of singing and solo playing, [Thomas] has the responsibility of an orchestra of over eighty players – a congregation superior to that of the Philharmonic Society.  He proposes with his body of picked players . . . to interpret an important work never before played in this country, namely, Berlioz’s symphony, called ‘Harold in Italy.’”
2)
Advertisement: New-York Times, 04 May 1863, 7.
Price, performers, some works.
3)
Advertisement: New York Herald, 04 May 1863, 7.

4)
Announcement: New York Herald, 05 May 1863, 7.
“[T]here will be produced at Irving Hall, on the occasion of Mr. Theodore Thomas’ concert, and for the first time in America, the grand symphony in four parts, entitled ‘Harold in Italy.’ . . . A grand orchestra of eighty performers will be required to bring out this symphony, all of whom must be first class musicians.  The rehearsals must necessarily be numerous.”


5)
Announcement: New-York Daily Tribune, 05 May 1863.
“[F]or the first time in America, the grand symphony, in four parts, entitled ‘Harold in Italy.’  This great work is a musical illustration of Byron’s poem ‘Childe Harold,’ . . . The subject is treated in a style of grandeur which is peculiar to Berlioz, of whom Liszt says—‘To whatever mood the music of Berlioz may be attuned—a mood bitter, mild, despairing, happy, pious or fantastic, in the church, the theatre of the concert hall—we must recognize his genius as one of the most remarkable of the age: a genius to which all who belong to art, from choice, calling, position or conviction, owe respect, admiration and homage.’ . . . A grand orchestra of eighty performers will be required to bring out this symphony, all of whom must be first class artists.  The rehearsals must necessarily be numerous, and the enterprise is one entitling Mr. Thomas to the greatest encouragement from all lovers of music in New York.”
6)
Advertisement: Courrier des États-Unis, 05 May 1863.

7)
Announcement: New York Post, 06 May 1863, 2.
“The concerts of this excellent artist and efficient orchestral conductor are always events of much interest in the musical world of New York; we are sure of hearing at them the first order of music interpreted by a splendid band, and of having intellectual refreshment as well as the lighter entertainment of melodies pleasing to the ear.  It is not too high praise to place Mr. Thomas first among the young musicians of the day who labor with heart and hand and head to display worthily the treasures of their art; with him we find no tolerance of shams and makeshifts in the rendering of music, and the sound principle that what is worth doing at all is worth doing well ever governs him.” 

8)
Announcement: New York Herald, 07 May 1863, 7.

9)
Announcement: New York Post, 08 May 1863.
Program.  “Mr. Thomas’s Concert, which is to take place tomorrow night, excites unusual interest among the music lovers of the city.”
10)
Advertisement: New-York Times, 09 May 1863, 7.
Time.
11)
Announcement: New York Herald, 09 May 1863, 6.

12)
Advertisement: New York Herald, 09 May 1863, 12.

13)
Announcement: New-York Daily Tribune, 09 May 1863.
“This evening Mr. Thomas’s Concert Extraordinary—or what is called in France a musical solemnity—will take place at Irving Hall.  There will be an orchestra of eighty performers [italics in original]—sufficiently numerous and powerful to give effect to the two leading compositions of the evening: Berlioz’s Childe Harold Symphony and Beethoven’s Symphony in C Minor.  Berlioz’s Symphony is a stranger to these parts, and it is much to the honor of the high-spirited young musician, Mr. Thomas, that he brings forward and conducts works of such pretensions—illustrated with such force, and moreover, at such expense and risk to himself.”
14)
Announcement: New York Post, 09 May 1863, 2.
“[W]ill not be overlooked by any lover of music.  Indeed, as it is the great event of the season, there is no danger of its suffering by neglect of forgetfulness.  It is not more than once in ten years that we have had the privilege of hearing a really efficient orchestra of seventy-five or eighty members, and such a band, under a leader like Mr. Thomas, playing the music of Mozart, Beethoven, and Berlioz, will be remembered.”
15)
Announcement: Courrier des États-Unis, 09 May 1863.
“Tonight, M. Theodore Thomas invites the musical public to one of these delicate feasts that he has had the honor to inaugurate in America.  The principal morceaux of the evening will be Harold by Berlioz, and the 5th symphony in c-minor by Beethoven.”
16)
Advertisement: Courrier des États-Unis, 09 May 1863.

17)
: Strong, George Templeton. New-York Historical Society. The Diaries of George Templeton Strong, 1863-1869: Musical Excerpts from the MSs, transcribed by Mary Simonson. ed. by Christopher Bruhn., 09 May 1863.

"Took dear little Kate, Johnny & Templeton tonight to Theo. Thomas’ concert at Irving Hall. J. begged so hard that I could not refuse him, but I think his perceptions were a little blunted before ten o’clock or half after it, when we came out, & that he did not appreciate the concluding symphony (C minor) as he would have done had it stood a little higher on the programme.

The programme was Overture to Zauberflote, di tante palpiti by Mme. d’Angri, Symphonie Childe Harold: four movements, each a well-marked type of its own species of badness, by Hector Berlioz, who I think stands even farther below the zero-point on the scale of art than Verdi himself, for he develops his baseness more industriously & elaborately & beside Verdi has written things that are good after their kind, poor as it is. The wretched Frenchman seems absolutely and entirely an Anti-poet, a [illegible word, possibly Greek], a maker of anti-musical combinations. This composition, miscalled a symphony, is full of red-peppery orchestral novelties, & must have cost its author months of hard work. But there is hardly a bar in it that’s not repulsive, offensive & detestable, its analogue in literature is Victor Hugo’s 'Les Miserables,' so puffed of late, but the comparison does the novel injustice. In second part of the concert we had a Polonaisee of Chopin’s played by Mills and an aria from Bellini’s Romeo e Giullietta sung by Mme d’Angri, and the glorious C minor symphony, executed a little roughly, perhaps, but with feeling and spirit."

18)
Review: New-York Times, 11 May 1863, 4.

“One of the most enjoyable and important concerts of the season took place at Irving Hall on Saturday evening, when Mr. Theodore Thomas made his annual appeal to the good taste and intelligence of the community. The community (except the musical portion of it) was somewhat placid on the subject, but sent a sufficient representation to comfortably fill the hall, pay the expenses, and leave the beneficiare—the applause, which is about as much as the community usually does, when called upon for an effort. The programme was a model of brevity and substance; every piece in it was a gem. There were but six numbers. We place them on record: 1. Overture to the ‘Magic Flute,’ by Mozart; 2. Cavatina from ‘Tancredi,’ sung by Madame D’Angri; 3. ‘Harold in Italy,’ symphony in four parts, by Hector Berlioz; 4. Polonaise in E flat, op. 22, by Chapin [sic], played by Mr. S. B. Mills; 5. Aria, from ‘Giuletta e Romeo,’ sung by Madame D’Angri; 6. Symphony No. 5 in C minor, opus 67, by Beethoven. We may say generally of this programme that it was interpreted in the best possible manner. The interest of the occasion was centred [sic] of course on the ‘Harold’ symphony, played for the first time in America. It does not say much for our Philharmonic Society, that a work of such importance should remain neglected, until dragged forth by the private enterprise and art enthusiasm of an individual. The expense of hiring a harp has probably deterred that generous corporation from having anything to do with it. Mr. Thomas not only faced this fearful responsibility, but engaged an orchestra of eighty players for the just interpretation of the symphony.

            It is not easy to express a liking for Berlioz’s muse—so strangely does it oscillate between the extremes of raving eccentricity and of colossal, but entirely inconsequential magnificence. His genius belongs to a sort of musical deluge, and what you find in it is interesting as a phenomenon of nature, like the megatherium or the ornithorynous paradoxus. It is impossible to say why he has so much tail or so little fin, and one can readily believe that in a moment of excitement he could climb a tree or dive to the bottom of old ocean with equal facility. But that he has genius, is demonstrated by the fact that a number of respectable notorieties have been engaged for several years in stealing it. Berlioz has supplied the school of the ‘future’ with the few ideas of which it can boast, and this work of ‘Harold’ contains the materials for a dozen Liszts and Wagners. It is somewhat more coherent than others of the composer’s large works. The plan is thoroughly dramatic, and the one idea of keeping the personality of Harold constantly before the audience, whilst the orchestra presents a dazzling succession of scenes in which that unhappy individual is a spectator, if not a participator, is excellently maintained by means of the Viola, representing the hero. Nor is the work destitute of the tangible merit of melody, although it is for broad and startling combinations of instruments, happy conceits of coloring, and massive and overwhelming effects of sonority, that [sic] most remarkable. It is in these latter respects that we perceive the hand of the master, and the daring invention of a man of genius. To say that the work is one of the most interesting of its sort, is feebly to express the pleasure that its fine performance on Saturday night afforded to the audience. Mr. Thomas conducted the orchestra with consummate ability, and Mr. Edward Mollenhauer played the viola with marked effect. Mr. Toulmin was the harpist. We are only sorry that the Harold Symphony cannot be repeated.”

19)
Review: New York Herald, 11 May 1863, 4.
“The grand annual vocal and instrumental concert given by Mr. Theodore Thomas at Irving Hall last Saturday evening was a great success.  The hall was filled by a most appreciative audience, drawn together by musical attractions of an unusually high order.  The programme announced a novelty for the lovers of music in this country.  We refer to the grand symphony in four parts, composed by Berlioz, entitled, ‘Harold in Italy,’ to execute which a very large orchestra of first class artists is needed.”

20)
Review: New-York Daily Tribune, 11 May 1863, 3.

Mr. Theodore Thomas’s Concert.—On Saturday evening there was assembled a good, but not overflowing, audience at Irving Hall, at a concert—‘an annual concert’—of Mr. Theodore Thomas—a young musician who desires to put, at his own risk, new and large things before the public; by the fullest and choicest orchestra he is capable of collecting together. A noble ambition—a little too noble for some people to understand, or there would not have been standing room at the concert.

            The art piece performed was an eccentric symphony by Hector Berlioz, called Childe Harold—the musical colorings of which are suggested by the spiritual unrest, the low spirits, and dyspepsia, of the grown-up infant, and of the natural and national peculiarities of the Alps and the Alpine peoples.

            Hector Berlioz is a Frenchman—a composer of distinction in the instrumental walk—a member, we believe, of the National Institute, elected such both on account of artistic and scientific productions in music and his copious and elegant literary contributions. (The Lord help him to a seat in our National Institute! ‘after the French model’—according to the very latest carryings-out of that colossal misnomer as chartered by the last Congress!) An enthusiastic young Frenchman, he first appeared in or about the year 1824, as an anti-Rossini man. He was so angry at the applause bestowed on Semiramide, that he avowed it would give him pleasure to see the whole audience blown up with gun-powder for lending their suffrages to those Italian flowers of melody. As Virgil sings: ‘Can such anger overcome heavenly mind?’ It can. It does. It will. Hector Berlioz was equally savage with the model Barber of Seville—which he denounced as tapage (noise), and went off irrelevantly in his critique to some remarks on the Duchess of Berri’s toilette. Ah! the poor Duchess has passed away with two dynasties, but King Rossini liveth yet. These youthful critical indiscretions of Hector Berlioz were, however, justified. Rossini, the most wealthy and wonderful genius for the opera who ever lived, had, up to that time, written in but one way for the opera in the exhaustless fertility of his melodic muse he gave as many notes to his men as to his women to sing, instead of dividing the line between the heroic dynamics of the one and the volatilc [sic] lightness of the other; and, besides, he wrote his Semiramide with as many as, or more florid notes than, his Barber. So Berlioz was partially right—only his rage made him wrong through the want of discrimination. He forgot that all composers are attacked by certain critics, in the same way; and, after all, the dear public will form its own judgment about operatic composers. If the composer be a melodist, and add to that natural gift sufficiently great academic experiences and acquisitions he will triumph. If he be not a melodist, no other qualifications will make his succeed on the stage. Every opera which holds possession of the stage had either been assailed or neglected—one or both on its first presentation. Don Giovanni even was no exception. As for Bellini, every [sic] the smallest merit was denied to him. His Pirata—which is a musical revelation for truth and beauty—and for the perfection of its dramatic recitatives and its quasi declamation airs was never equaled up to the time of its appearance (we limit ourselves to these two propositions)—was never equaled. This was called worthless, destitute of originality—and properly named, as all its airs were pirated. La Sonnambula was called the highest recognized authority trash, and the only point in it the clap-trap of kicking off the bricks from the decayed bridge in the sleep-walking scene. Robert le Diable was said to be deficient in science, and noisy with trombone, etc. Verdi was sent howling to the seventh hell of musical sinners; bulletins came from Paris to London to recite the contemptuous failure of his Ernani—proh prudor! and the contemptible nonsense was duly repeated here. And so we could fill columns with similar citations, of the manner in which critics make up the minds—full of envy, malignity and all uncharitableness; and how the public seeing through their empty-headed wrath made up their own minds, applauded the new compositions, and caused it to be the interest of opera directors to maintain them on the cards, until they became standard—and even until some of them have become musical bores by virtue of the iterations and reiterations of an unbroken line of many years of triumphant success. But the composers will write, and the asses will bray, and the public will make its own election.

M. Berlioz was not successful in his opposition to Signor Rossini—who probably never read the critiques. M. Berlioz next tried his hand at operatic composition, according to his understanding of what that ought to be. He worked until he produced a score on the subject of Benvenuto Cellini. He had around him a knot of admirers—painters as well as acoustic gentlemen—but the opera fell dead. The reason was simple. M. Berlioz is not a melodist. And melody is necessary for the human voice, which deals in notes one at a time, and those notes are exactly and symmetrically measured by lines of poetry. A failure in opera is an awful thing for a composer. It throws him out of the only successful or profitable path, unless he play his own compositions like a Beethoven or Chopin or Thalberg or Gottschalk. Writing quartets or symphonies is writing [illeg.] honor  alone, it is not a profession. M. Berlioz [sic] brilliant pen made him known as a journalist, though his career as an opera-composer seemed to be at an end. But he contributed to a musical journal—afterward comprehended in a single volume—a dissertation on musical instrumentation, or the art of writing for an orchestra; and, if he had done nothing else, he would merit a first-rate niche in the lyrical temple—for it is an admirable production, and one very much needed for students—for very little had been written on that very important subject; and the student had generally to work out his own salvation on the transcendentalism of the orchestra, to calculate the return of his own musical comets, and take the parallaxes of his own fixed stars.

In the work performed on Saturday night by eighty musicians, under the direction of Mr. Theodore Thomas, of course there is evidenced all the orchestration of a superlative master in the use of musical instruments as M. Berlioz; of the excellence of the melodies there may be differences of opinion. We thought them a vast advance on those he put forth in his vocal and instrumental symphony of Faust performed in Paris; and we think the celebrated M. Scudo would now revise his elaborate criticism on the composer, in the Révue des Deux Mondes, in which he said that M. Berlioz had not the art to connect ideas, or, in plain French, did not know how to compose.

In the absence of words, and of personation, an instrument does the living individuality. The Viola, somber and sentimental, performed by the business well, in the hands of M. Mollenhauer. The several moments are an agitated introduction to depict the fever of the hero generally—then a Viola impersonation, accompanied in chief by the harp. Then festal and religious and national alpine themes follow in their turn, with die-away effects and echoes which make the young people hold their fragrant breaths, until they come down with thundering approvals. The ecstatic finale of Harold gave a fine chance for the multiform simultaneous traits of musical coloring or instrumentation, the whirl of violins, the strident wreath of the brass, the clash of cymbals, the shrieks of the little flutes, and all the agonies and ecstasies of the soul in communion with physical nature arouse. The performance was a complete success, and Mr. Theodore Thomas has the honor of producing it here first.

We have often expressed the opinion, and repeat it respectfully here, that it is the chief business of Philharmonic Societies to play living pieces or compositions by men alive,—by that means Art is advanced. If they are not played Art dies; for Art cannot be sustained by studying the works of the dead almost exclusively. The age must be heroic to itself or it deserves to be covered with ignominy and stricken from human annals. For these reasons the Philharmonic Society should give most heed to such new works as this just considered: especially as it is not possible, with the limited means in a single artist a hand, to rehearse for weeks such productions, and render them with the ultra-exact finish which they need.

Madame D’Angri sang splendidly Rossini’s splendid old air, Di Tanti Palpiti; and the audience would have been best satisfied had the lady gone through with it again instead of bowing acknowledgements to their salvos of applause.

Mr. Mills played with the completest success a first-class composition of Chopin.

The performance of Beethoven’s Symphony in C minor concluded this remarkable concert.”

21)
Review: New York Post, 11 May 1863, 4.

“Mr. Thomas’s Concert on Saturday evening was an occasion to be long remembered, and he deserves the warmest acknowledgements of the public for his honest and intelligent efforts in the cause of his art. The hall was comfortably filled, though not as full as it should have been, and while Mr. Thomas may have been saved from actual loss of money he unquestionably did not receive an ordinarily fair compensation for the physical labor he undertook and endured. The programme, with the exception of the new work of Berlioz, may be dismissed with a word of cordial and equal praise. Madame D’Angri, Mr. Mills, and the splendid orchestra well won the judicious applause they received. The great feature of the evening was the ‘Harold’ symphony of Berlioz. An audience of some experience in the reception of musical works of large extent and novel construction always settles itself to the first hearing of a symphony with a little nervousness. There may be in store for the thousand or more listeners a half hour of fatiguing brainwork of weary groping and straining after a clue to a labyrinth of tangled paths which seem all to lead up to the deadest of dead walls; or they may have before them sparkling instrumentation, the graceful embroidery of a consistent and intelligible idea, that logical development of a well-constructed plan which constitutes the true symphonic poem. In this second class of works we must place ‘Harold in Italy;’ the first of the four parts is perhaps a little mystical for the general comprehension; but the remaining three movements—especially the second and third—can be understood sufficiently to give unalloyed pleasure on the very first hearing. The beauty of the varied instrumentation is marvelous, and shows the mastery of the composer over all the resources of the orchestra. A careful analysis, or even an extended notice of this great symphony, will be impossible; it only remains to say that the rendering of the work was as near perfection as can be desired. The viola performance of Mr. Mollenhauer, and the most excellent harp obligato of Mr. A.F. Toulmin, call for very distinct commendation. It is with pleasure we learn that the symphony will probably soon be repeated here or in Brooklyn.”

22)
Review: Dwight's Journal of Music, 16 May 1863, 29.

“The most attractive concerts of the past two weeks have been those of Mr. Castle and Madame Urso, at Irving Hall, and especially that of Mr. Theodore Thomas, which took place on Saturday night last. There was a fine selection of orchestral works:—Beethoven’s C minor Symphony, Mozart’s Zauberflöte overture, and Berlioz’s Symphony, ‘Harold in Italy’, (first time in America). The programme of the Symphony—for it belongs essentially to programme music—is as follows: Harold, tired, disappointed, and spoiled by too early unenviable acquaintance with the bad side of humanity, finds himself amid the rich nature of Italy, too worn out to feel moved by its beauty, or by the emotions which he witnesses in other men; he finally throws himself into a wild brigand orgy, where he perishes. This is by no means Byron’s Harold, with all deference to Berlioz, and to Liszt, whose long article on Berlioz’s music in general, and this Symphony in particular, may be read with some interest in the 43d volume of the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik; the noble Childe, with his Anglo-Saxon energies, had his destiny called him from among us before he had fully felt the certainty that truth, no matter how melancholy, is at the bottom fairer than illusion, might have perished, if by his own choice (as we poor mortals say!) in a noble cause—but would not have died of total exhaustion of moral and intellectual stamina. No:—Berlioz’s Harold, as we gather from the music, is a Childe of weak heart and head, (and those French, to boot,) who gives way in the struggle between his good and evil nature. How is it that Berlioz so often selects repulsive subjects for musical illustration? This work is no exception; for a blasé man is the type of all weak, despicable, pitiable, (and alas! now vulgarly common) littleness.

            The first movement of the Symphony is entitled: ‘Harold in the mountains; scenes of melancholy, happiness, and joy.’ The second: ‘March and evening prayer of the pilgrims.’ The third: ‘Serenade of a mountaineer of the Abruzzi to his beloved.’—Fourth: ‘Orgy of brigands, with reminiscences of the preceding scenes.’ Berlioz represents Harold by the tones of the viola (often solo, or with harp accompaniment), ‘whose sonority better expresses the melancholy and extinguished hue of departed illusion, than the violin, which has too much color for these peculiar feelings,’ (says Liszt!!) The first movement, although grandiose in parts, by no means places us in the mood which the view of a beautiful nature creates; rather in that produced by the sight of a savage, barren landscape (we do not allude to Harold’s voice, the viola monody, but to the orchestral ensemble). The second and third parts are truer to their plan, and more beautiful; the second of poetic effect, the third very characteristic. The fourth is noisy, lengthy, and the ‘monody’ of the viola here sounds childish and inexpressive. Berlioz has used every orchestral resource, with his well-known ability, in order to heighten the effect of the Symphony. The viola solo (the rôle of Harold!) was taken by Mr. E. Mollenhauer; the harp was in the hands of Mr. Toulmin.

            What can we say of the Zauberflöte overture?—Who does not know that it is a lovely marriage of musical beauty and science? Here, indeed, is rich nature, art, beauty,— and how it satisfies the ideal desire within us! Beethoven’s Fifth was finely played by the admirable orchestra Mr. Thomas had gathered together—and a glorious masterpiece it sounded! Such exuberance of musical idea, such purity of form, can dispense with orchestral embodiment, and yet remain a thing for love and wonder.—Mme. D’Angri sang the fine scena ‘Oh patria’, from Tancredi, and an aria from ‘Romeo e Giuliettn [sic, and no close quotes] with her accustomed breadth of style, and finished vocalization. Mr. Mills played the Chopin Polonaise in E flat, opus 22. We were glad to see a numerous and appreciative audience at this fine concert.”

23)
Review: Musical Review and World, 23 May 1863, 122-3.

[Lists program.]

            “The Grand Piano used on this occasion was from the celebrated manufactory of Steinway and Sons.

            We are happy to state that a highly appreciative company had congregated at Irving Hall on this occasion to listen to the music of one of the most interesting programmes of the season. The chief feature of the evening, with regard to novelty and interest, was, of course, the symphony by Berlioz, illustrative of the feelings, view and doings of that other Faust-nature, called Harold. Berlioz composed this work in the beginning of his career, perhaps thirty years ago. All of the music that appeared then as new, odd and monstrous, we take now as faits accomplis. In this respect, the revolution Berlioz undertook so many years ago, has certainly been successful. We have heard over and over again done by others, and sanctioned by the most discriminative audiences of Europe, what was then condemned and ridiculed. All modern effects of instrumentation, whether by Wagner, Liszt or Meyerbeer, can be traced back to this very symphony, and in this one respect, Berlioz was certainly ahead of his time. As usual, his followers have added to the better understanding of his conceptions, and to-day, as was sufficiently proved the other night at Irving Hall, we not only listen patiently to the music of Berlioz, but we also find it comparatively easy to understand its meaning, and to appreciate its merits. These are certainly great; for whatever may be said of his ideas, one thing is certain—only a powerful intelligence can write such music. Whether Berlioz, who can grasp the beauties of poetry in others so quickly, and inspire himself by them so easily and so understandingly, is also a poet himself, it is difficult to decide. His music, although full of interesting combinations and fine rhythmical traits, only partially indicates it. One thing is certain—his creative powers as a musical composer are not large. His melodies occur only far between, and very often lack breadth, largeness, and fluency. Perhaps in no other work of Berlioz does this become more prominent, than in his Harold symphony. It was a want of self-criticism on the part of the otherwise very acute composer, to individualize the sorrows and wildness of Harold by introducing a kind of solo part in the symphony, intended to represent Harold. His deficiencies become thus much more apparent than if he had strictly adhered to the usual form of the symphony. All what Harold (the viola) has to say in the work, is much inferior to what the other instruments tell us. In fact, sometimes the music of the viola is so common and meaningless that Harold appears in a very poor light, and we cannot understand why so much effort was made to make us acquainted with such a common character.

            Considering the difficulty of the composition and that but few rehearsals had been made, the symphony went very well. We were pleased to see for once the harp not omitted or placed by the pianoforte, especially as it was in the hands of such an earnest and able artist as Mr. Toulmin.

            Mad. D’Angri and Mr. Mills, with their solo performances, greatly added to the satisfaction this concert evidently gave.

            In conclusion let us say that Mr. Theodore Thomas deserves our best thanks for the great effort he makes for the cause of musical art in this city.”

24)
Review: Dwight's Journal of Music, 30 May 1863, 36.
Just a mention.