Marie Krebs Pianoforte Recital: 1st

“This young lady is a remarkable instance of what talent of a musical order, united to circumstances calculated to develop that talent to the utmost, can effect. She is very young, scarcely yet arrived at that age when the mind is supposed to be able to shoot forth strong, sturdy, self-sustaining plants, on which future artists may engraft their ideas. Her father is an eminent musician, and to his fostering care we may attribute the extraordinary growth of musical intellect which we have witnessed in his daughter. Yesterday Miss Krebs and her mother gave the first of a series of classical concerts at Steinway Hall, the importance of which any musician may glean from the following programme [lists program].

Now, to begin at the beginning. The E flat sonata, is, we believe, one of the most difficult of Beethoven’s thirty-five works of this kind. Not in technique or mere digital dexterity, but in conception and phrasing. It is very difficult to reconcile the many and varied episodes, which he introduces with that oneness of idea which characterizes the work. These appear more frequently in the first movement, and, although he gives full play to his illimitable fancy, yet there is a simple foundation, a subject, a ligature, which binds all. The scherzo is supremely lovely, and the minuet betrays his early enthusiastic admiration of Mozart. He surprises the listener by these unlooked-for episodes, and gradually brings the mind back to the original subject, no matter how far from it he may have wandered. This is the grand, striking characteristic of his works, to make variety dependent on unity. But the Moonlight Sonata is the chef d’oeuvre of his and of all piano works. Never was the word true poem more appropriately applied. Our recollections hinge on two great interpreters of this work, Charles Hallé and Arabella Goddard. To both it was an idyl to which every pulsation of their hearts responded. The adagio was beneath their fingers an ethereal creation before which faded away the material world and the land of dreams was unfolded. Both works are almost too sacred for the concert hall. We have heard them dropping from the inspired fingers of a pianist when the shades of evening had fallen and the room became lightsome with the radiance of poetry. Miss Krebs did not come up to our idea of a true interpreter of these works. There was too much of the shop about her playing. Faultless technique, granted; but a lack of color, phrasing and artistic feeling. The phrasing, for instance. A rustic, anybody, can read Byron or Tennyson, perhaps always correctly; but few can catch the divine spark that smoulders beneath each line. To interpret a Beethoven sonata requires something more than mere digital dexterity. Underneath these simple triplets which represent the shimmering of the moonlight in the C sharp minor sonata lies a world of poetry and feeling. Puck and his sprites peep through every bar of the scherzo of the opus 29. (We believe this should be called opus 31.) There is a story about the ‘Katzenfugue,’ which one may believe or not. It is said that Scarlatti was awakened one night by the tones of his harpsichord, over which stepped daintily a favorite cat. The animal chanced to strike peculiar keys, and instantly the frenzy of composition roused the musician. He wrote an extraordinary subject which his feline companion gave him. True or not, as the story may be, the ‘Katzenfugue’ is a remarkable work, entirely out of the beaten path. Miss Krebs played it with a nervous power, distinctness and spirit which alone would entitle her to the admiration and respect of any musician.

She does not feel Chopin any more than Beethoven; hence was lost the delicacy and tenderness of the ‘Impromptu’—those fine, ethereal threads which seem not to belong to our nature, but to the fairy world. With Schumann she was more at home, for the enormous difficulties of the ‘Novelette’ were playthings in her hands. The work is a novel and fantastic creation, rather somber and heavy in color and wanting in those delicate pencillings which we admire. We hear too little of Rubenstein in this city. His waltz, F major, is exquisite. He delights in strong contrasts, and his interpreter must be entirely en rapport with him. Miss Krebs’ rendering was forcible, spirited and intelligible, but lacked in producing those strong contrasts of light and shade which are essential to bring out the beauties of the work.

Liszt’s work was a surprise, as it was entirely out of his usual line. A pretty little mazourka subject is worked up in a semi-bravura style, and possesses not a bar of unintelligibility. There is something so fresh, sparkling and melodious about his treatment that it is no wonder that those present could scarcely believe their eyes when they found Liszt’s name attached to the work. Miss Krebs made it her piece de résistance, and her rendering was superb. We never heard her to better advantage. Her mother was not in good voice, an unconquerable hoarseness clouding the beauty of her well cultivated contralto voice. She sang her husband’s charming lied, ‘Valencia’s Rose,’ better than her other selections. It is indeed a fine conception. The melody is so fresh and hearty that it carries the listener along and leaves an impression of delight. We trust that the works of the eminent composer, Carl Krebs, will be heard more frequently in this city, for they unite freshness and beauty with the highest artistic cultivation.”

Review: New York Post, 16 January 1871, 2.

“The first of what promises to be a very interesting series of pianoforte recitals was given at Steinway Hall by Miss Marie Krebs on Saturday last, assisted by Mme. Krebs-Michalesi, the contralto. The audience was such as it is seldom the good fortune of the artist to attract. The best amateur pianists of our city, the ablest and most fastidious of our critics, together with artists of note, listened attentively and appreciatively to the exquisite playing of the young and gifted Miss Krebs.

The programme was selected from the most celebrated classical composers, and comprised some of their best productions. Miss Krebs’s playing throughout was skillful, broad, intelligent; but her rendering of the ‘Moonlight Sonata,’ a waltz by Rubinstein, and a ‘Rhapsodie’ by Liszt were unusually remarkable, and drew forth continued and hearty applause.

Three charming numbers on the programme were the contribution of Mme. Krebs-Michalesi, a finished artist with a fine, highly cultivated contralto voice. The graceful and sympathetic ‘Ave Maria,’ by Kosch, which she sang, was a very successful effort, and afforded her an opportunity to display the deep, full tones of her organ.

Of the many pianists who have lately appeared in our concert rooms, few have played with more brilliancy, none have displayed more faultless technique, more masterly execution, than Miss Krebs. As an interpreter of strictly classical music she stands in the foremost ranks. She appears endowed with the spirit of music itself, she seems to have caught its very inspiration. Her playing is not alone the effort of her brain, it proceeds equally from her whole nature—a nature youthful, warm, artistic. While listening to her we feel we are in the presence of a fully matured, experienced artist, and yet, when we look up, we behold a pleasant, girlish face, mellowed with smiles, and heartily enjoying the plaudits and bravos so lavishly bestowed. It is not, therefore, strange that the London public, whom she has just left, regarded her second only to Mme. Arabella Goddard, and now take such a kind interest in the cordial reception New York has given her.”

Review: New York Sun, 16 January 1871, 2.

“Two pianoforte concerts of more than ordinary interest were given on Saturday last, one in the afternoon at Steinway Hall, by Miss Marie Krebs, and the other in the evening at Chickering’s, by Mr. Richard Hoffman. At both works not only of difficulty, but of the highest intellectual reach and the most delicate beauty, were performed. A rare privilege is accorded to the young students of the piano in the opportunity given to listen to the works of the masters interpreted by such eminent musicians.”

Review: New-York Times, 16 January 1871, 5.

“Miss Marie Krebs, an accomplished and ambitious artist, of whose performances here we have kept an unbroken record, gave at Steinway Hall, on the afternoon of Saturday, the first of a series of four piano-forte recitals. The smaller room of the hall was occupied for the occasion. It ought to have been crowded, and we trust that it will be on Saturday next, when the second of these concerts is to occur. The opportunity of listening to thoroughly enjoyable compositions in a place where no atom of sound is lost, cannot long be overlooked by the appreciative. When Chopin was dying, he said to the Countess Czartoryska, ‘Play good music; I shall hear it.’ Late entertainments offered here have been ill-fitted to give the composer’s spirit the pleasure he wished for his after-life, and we might counsel Miss Krebs and a few equally conscientious performers to be content with kindred promises of approval, were we not satisfied that some living encouragement will be shown their efforts. A programme, including Beethoven’s sonata in E flat, (Opus 29,) the same composer’s ‘Moonlight’ sonata, a ‘Novelette’, by Schumann, a waltz by Rubinstein, and one of Liszt’s Hungarian rhapsodies can surely be recommended as worthy of pleasing. We do not think that Miss Krebs is, of all known pianists, best suited by talent and temperament to interpret it, but we are fully prepared to do homage to the courage which prompted its selection, and to the study and intelligence which secured a clear and technically-satisfying rendering. When Miss Krebs gave her first concert in this City, we expressed hearty admiration for the vigor and the fluency of her execution, and the correctness of her reading. At the same time a reservation was apparent in so far as sensibility and imagination are concerned in the work of the artist. We see no reason now for a modification of our opinion on these several points. Without reproducing any of the numerous ‘word-poems’ which fanciful writers have constructed upon the tone-poems of the masters, the foregoing mention of their title will enlighten the reader as to their demands. These were not fully responded to. More difficult in technique than the ‘Moonlight’ sonata, but less exacting in expression, the sonata in E flat was recited, as may be inferred, with better effect than the work last named, and the final movement, a presto con fuoco, in six eight time, was carried on with exceeding brilliancy and power. Schumann’s ‘Novelette,’ though excessively complicated, was read with facility and finish. The ‘Cat’s Fugue,’ by Scarlatti, was given coherence with the clearness so rarely attained by modern players. But we cannot point to Miss Krebs’ performance of the waltz by Rubinstein—a fresh and delicious trifle—or to that of the rhapsody—not the threadbare number of the series, but novel to the ear both for theme and treatment—as deserving of unlimited admiration. Though suffering from hoarseness, Mme. Krebs-Michalesi lent her aid to her daughter and sang an ‘Ave Maria’ by Kosch, ‘Der Neugierige,’ by Schubert, and ‘Valencia’s Rose,’ by C. Krebs. This last song merits repetition.”

Review: New-York Daily Tribune, 16 January 1871, 4.

“Miss Mary Krebs began last Saturday, at Steinway’s smaller hall, a series of matinée entertainments which promise to be exceptionally pleasant and improving. Her audience was not large, but it was composed principally of genuine connoisseurs—ladies of course predominating—and the best points of the performance were keenly appreciated by those whose applause an artist ought to value. Such audiences are generally rather quiet, but this one was repeatedly aroused to enthusiastic demonstrations. Miss Krebs had no assistance but that of her mother, who sang, in the noble and effective style of which she is mistress, an ‘Ave Maria’ by Kosch, Schumann’s ‘Waldegesprach,’ Schubert’s ‘Der Neugierige,’ and a song of her husband’s entitled ‘Valencia’s Rose.’ Miss Krebs gave, for her own part, the following rare feast of piano music [list program].

In this varied and difficult programme Miss Krebs submitted to a severer test of her powers than she had previously undergone in America, and we most cordially congratulate her upon the brilliant result of the ordeal. Our columns have frequently borne testimony to her abilities, but we came away from this concert with a much higher opinion of her than we had before. It was not only that we admired so much the perfection of her touch, the breadth and conscientiousness of her style, the extraordinary fertility of her memory, and her proficiency in all the mechanical accomplishments of the pianist; but we perceived in her playing more of the real fire of genius, more of that warm spontaneous feeling peculiar to the highest artistic natures, than we ever perceived before. Artists have their days of special inspiration, and Miss Krebs had one of hers on Saturday. She first drew blood, if we may be pardoned the expression, with the minuet of the E flat sonata. To this she gave the true, pathetic, subtle, poetic Beethoven flavor so hard to catch, and so inexpressively lovely. We confess to a fastidious taste in the performance of the piano music of this greatest of masters; but she satisfied us here. The whole work was admirably played, and the spirit of the last movement (presto con fuoco) was splendid. In the next number we had an opportunity to contrast the young lady’s ability in the interpretation of three widely differing, yet—in some mysterious way—perfectly congruous works; and it would not be easy to say which she did best. Domenico Scarlatti’s ‘Cat’s fugue’ we believe has only once before been played in New-York; that was by Mr. S. B. Mills, at one of the valuable Historical Recitals given at Steinway’s under the direction of Prof. F. L. Ritter. It is a fine example of the best school of harpsichord music of a century and a half ago, so fresh in spirit, so clear and polished in form, that even a public which has been trained to despise the older classical masters might take a keen pleasure in it. Miss Krebs played it vivaciously, but with that clean touch and faultless observance of the rhythm which are so essential to the enjoyment of a fugue. From this bright specimen of contrapuntal scholarship and ingenuity, she passed to the dreamy poetry of Chopin, and from that to Schumann’s rich and original fancies, calling forth from each its appropriate grace and distinct expression. The Moonlight Sonata was intelligently rendered, especially the adagio; but the most effective of all the selections was the last. This Rhapsody No. 4 is far less generally known than Nos. 1 and 2, which were played so often by Miss Topp, and by inferior artists after her. It is less fantastic in its character, more distinct, more rhythmical, but offers an equally tempting field for the display of a free and brilliant style, and is wrought up by degrees to a superb climax, wherein Miss Krebs aroused a general storm of enthusiasm. At times we have missed in her music that ultimate refinement of expression which is one of the most precious fruits of maturity; but she reminded us on Saturday that youth too has its own rich and appropriate gifts, and it is better to enjoy the present than to yearn for the uncertain future. That splendid vigor of sentiment, that contagious enthusiasm, that warm blood, that boundless capacity for enjoyment, which give such a delicious healthy tone to her performance, are rare endowments not often found in their perfection except in the sunniest period of life. In these she is incomparably superior to any other player now before the American public; in physique, she has an immense advantage over most of her rivals, for she never knows fatigue; and we have little question that she possesses a more thoroughly artistic nature than any other pianist who has recently visited America.”

Review: Dwight's Journal of Music, 11 February 1871, 400.

“On the 14th inst. Miss Marie Krebs commenced a series of superb piano forte recitals at Steinway’s small hall. This is the programme to the first [lists program].

The audience was the most critical that has been seen in Steinway Hall for many months, for almost every pianist known in New York was present. The programmes were excellently rendered.”