German Liederkranz: Legend of Saint Elizabeth

“First time in America.”

“The German Liederkranz, a body of musicians, whose culture is great, and whose industry is untiring, last night performed the arduous task of reciting Liszt’s ‘Legend of St. Elizabeth’ for the first time in this country. The labor, to our thinking, was as unthankful as it was arduous. The revival of a medieval mystery would not exact half the pains, and would, at least, satisfy archaeological curiosity. A fair part of the oratorio was omitted; and as it is safe to assume that the work of excision, intrusted to Herr Agricol Pauer, was done with due respect for the better music of the composition, the rehearsal last evening, at all events, will be remembered with pleasure as not having been so overwhelmingly tedious as it might have been. Yet the effect was sufficiently dispiriting. The instrumentation of ‘The Legend’ is, without doubt, superb, but instrumentation is but a means of expression, and not an end. There is nothing, indeed, in the orchestration of this oratorio to compare in richness with that of Spohr’s ‘Weihe der Toene,’ and as a composer of creative power—the possession of the creative faculty being, after all, the proof of genius—it is questionable if the friend of Wagner emulates the reputation of the older musician, a prince of harmonious compositions contrived for the felicitous concealment of threadbare ideas. Built upon a dialogue of the most amusing naivéte—using the word in its right significance—and interspersed with choral passages, ‘The Legend of St. Elizabeth’ embodies but two numbers of real value. One is a children’s chorus, with an eccentric and suggestive accompaniment, contrasting strangely but appropriately with a foregoing wealth of sound. The second is also a chorus, chanted by the poor surrounding the death-bed of the Princess, and conspicuous for the blending of the voices into one utterance of rarest depth, sweetness and impressiveness. The prayerful choral at the close of the oratorio is also to be mentioned for the grave beauty pervading it. An audience that filled the hall listened to the recital of the oratorio and applauded heartily the artists—Mme. Rotter-Dieffenbach, soprano; Mme. Werner, soprano; Herr Vierling, baritone; and Herr Sohst, basso.—the very earnest and practiced chorus of the Society, the proficient orchestra, and the leader, Herr Pauer.”

“The entire range of art does not offer a wider contrast than that presented in two performances which have taken place in this city within a few days. On Sunday evening the Liederkranz Society sang for the first time in America Liszt’s oratorio, ‘St. Elizabeth;’ and last night the company of French singers at the Grand Opera House produced Offenbach’s musical burlesque, ‘Les Brigands.’

“Between these two works, of course, no comparison can be made. They stand, as it were, at the opposite poles of art. The one is the earnest effort of a great musical master who aims to produce effects and develop theories scarcely with the scope of the science he employs, and which are therefore inherently unattainable. The other is the catch-penny device of a musical writer who only aims to tickle the ear, or to excite by grotesque combinations surprise and wonder. Liszt’s work may be incomprehensible, but Offenbach’s, musically speaking, is deteriorating in its results. [Discussion of Les Brigands follows]

“From the brilliant theatre we may suppose the scene to change to the unpretending hall of the Liederkranz Association. A large audience of attentive and music-loving Germans are listening with earnest care to the latest work of a composer who is recognized as among the leaders in modern musical art. The music performed is full of novelty, and illustrates in the life of St. Elizabeth a subject full of religious thought and pious aspiration. Liszt first produced his new oratorio on the Wartburg in 1857, and it has since been heard in several of the leading German cities. It belongs to that heartily abused ‘music of the future’ of which so much is said and so little really understood.

“Liszt views this work as an exponent of his most advanced theories in musical art. He assumes that music is far more expressive than most of his predecessors have allowed. The descriptive capabilities of the art have to a certain extent been conceded by other composers. Haydn, in ‘The Creation,’ by a few orchestral phrases imitated the peculiarities of certain animals. Rossini and numerous other operatic writers depict storms; and to imitate the babbling of brooks or the sighing of the wind in the trees is a favorite device of composers, and is considered entirely popular. Verdi in his ‘Attila,’ a work but little known here, carried the idea to an extreme point. He ventures to depict the rising of the sun by passages for the flute, leading by crescendos to a full orchestral burst; but to the listener it is quite as suggestive of the pattering of rain merging into a storm.

“Liszt, however, goes much further. He assumes that such abstruse emotions as remorse, love, peace and joy can be so exactly interpreted by the music, that they may be understood as plainly as if expressed in words, if the audience can only be educated to the proper degree of subtle comprehension. To the average listener a turbulent bit of orchestration may convey the idea either of a storm—a commotion of the natural elements—or a mental conflict; but to decide which it is there must be some indication apart from the music. Liszt and his school—in which are included Wagner, Berlioz, and, to a certain degree, Gounod—maintain that when an audience is sufficiently educated no such indication will be necessary.

“Founded on this theory his ‘St. Elizabeth’ is to many listeners a stumbling block and to others foolishness. It has not the slightest symptom of a melody in the ordinary acceptation of the term, unless it be in the few chorales interspersed here and there. The ‘solos’ are elaborate passages of dramatic recitation alternated by more elaborate orchestral phrases. Not only to the ordinary listener, but even to the experienced musician, who may naturally think that his technical knowledge would enable him better to appreciate a new musical work, it presents vast difficulties. The performers, who get more thoroughly indoctrinated with its peculiarities, come to enjoy them; but the first hearing of the work is indeed a trial of patience. In no sense of the word can ‘St. Elizabeth’ be considered as ‘Entertaining.’ It requires as much study and attention as would any philosophical pursuit. Whether its aims exceed the scope of music we leave to technical musicians to discuss; but we must say that to dismiss such a work, as some ‘critics’ have done, as the product of a crazy enthusiast, is as absurd as to say that our public is now prepared to enjoy or comprehend it.”

 “Liszt’s oratorio of ‘St. Elizabeth’ was produced on Sunday night, for the first time in America. The performance was one of the regular Winter series of musical entertainments given by the Liederkranz at their Club House. The society deserves ample credit for their enterprise in attacking a work of this kind, and for the average excellence of the execution; but we believe the curiosity of most musicians will be amply satisfied with one hearing of the work. It opens in a religious vein; it contains a few striking and even graceful numbers, and in the music for Elizabeth especially there is a delicacy which must at once be recognized. Still it is a dreary composition, which even the wonderful orchestral effects cannot enliven. Madame Rotter, Miss Werner, Mr. Vierling, and Mr. Sohst, took the solo parts.”