Madrigal Concert

“A charming concert was given at Steinway Hall last night by the Vocal Society of New York. The programme was one of those neatly printed brochures which, besides offering all necessary information at the time, serve as pleasant memorials for future preservation. The madrigals selected included compositions by Festa, Benet, Croce, Wilbye and Converso; and there were other choral works by Mendelssohn, Gade, Kinkel, and Arne and Jackson. Croce’s curious madrigal, ‘Cynthia, thy song,’ (dating from 1590,) seemed to give especial gratification to the audience, the pianissimo passages finding from the well-trained vocalists an exquisitely beautiful and careful interpretation. Wilbye’s ‘Lady, when I behold!’ was another admirable specimen of madrigal singing. The quartet of men’s voice which sang on Wednesday night at the private concert given at Steinway’s, consisting of Messrs. Bush, Powers, Baird and Aiken, repeated Hatton’s curious fantasy, ‘King Witlat’s drinking horn.’

 

The soloists were well worthy of notice. Mrs. [Evitaphiebo?] sang in excellent good taste ‘Love’s request,’ a song by Reichardt, and Miss Thursby showed her vocal facility in Rode’s air and variations. Mr. W. C. Baird’s singing of Fesca’s ‘Winged messenger’ was one of the features of the evening, and elicited warm applause.

 

The creditable efforts of the members of the Vocal Society and of the other madrigal association in this city, is giving rise to an interesting revival in this class of music—a class at once quaint, melodious, and to modern ears novel and original.”

“The second of the very charming series of glee and madrigal concerts given by the Vocal Society took place on Thursday evening at Steinway Hall. One drawback—a very serious one—on the pleasure of the evening was the imperfect ventilation of the hall. It had been previously used during the day, and the air was thoroughly exhausted of its vitality by thousands of lungs, and yet not a window was open, but this fresh audience came in to breathe over again the vitiated atmosphere. Many felt the oppression severely.

 

The Vocal Society has decidedly made progress. Mr. Mosenthal’s steady, persistent drill has not been without effect. With all due respect to Dr. Brown, the former director and present President, the difference is very clearly shown between amateur and professional work. There is now an evenness of tone, a precision also in attacking the commencement of a phrase, a distinctness and unanimity in the pronunciation of the words, and finally an ending together, that the Society never had before. Especially was it formerly accustomed to finish its musical sentences each man for himself. But now everything is like clock work so far as the madrigals go.

 

The male-voice Bacchus chorus from Mendelssohn’s fine, severe, and classical ‘Antigone’ music was superbly rendered. Twice the number of voices were really needed for the largest effect, but it was a very noble piece of work. The little sugar and water piece by [illegible], ‘The Rose in the Wood,’ singularly enough, was but indifferently sung. The male voice chorus is not so good as that of the mixed voices.

 

The best of the madrigals was perhaps that by Wilbye, ‘Lady, when I behold,’ written in six parts. It was composed in the old days, when the Mayflower settlers were cutting down the New England forest trees, and this island had not a white man upon it. Wilbye seems to have caught completely the spirit of those divine Italians of the sixteenth century, who brought the madrigal to its perfection. When one has heard and thoroughly comprehended a composition by this great master of counterpoint, he has heard the utmost that can be done in this direction. Exquisite fancy and subtle ingenuity can go no further. A more expert vocal juggler there never was. The six voices follow each other as the gilt balls from the hands of the legerdemainist fly up into the air, each in its turn, and all in perfect harmony of motion.

 

The solo singing was not equal in merit to the rest of the performance, if we except that of Mr. Baird, who sang one of Fesca’s songs with clear enunciation, fine phrasing, and with a really noble, manly quality of voice. His singing lacked only fire and a little more emotional quality to have made it entirely good.

The four-part song, ‘Where the Bee Sucks,’ was not well given—not so much for lack of intelligence on the part of the singers as of good quality of tone.

 

On the whole, however, no society to whose performance the public has access is doing so highly artistic and such satisfactory work as this one.”