Church Music Association Concert

“Under the above meaningless title, which would be more appropriate if applied to a Sunday school, is known the very best vocal society in New York. We say the best, because on no other musical organization do wealth and fashion bestow such unbounded liberality, and nowhere else can such eminent artists be found in a chorus. The chorus and orchestra are both large, well balanced and trained by constant rehearsals to a degree of perfection unattainable by other concert bodies, and in the conductor, Dr. James Pech, the society possesses a painstaking, accomplished and conscientious musician. Steinway Hall was crowded last night almost to suffocation, and the suggestion given on the tickets of full dress was attended to in every sense of the word. The bill was one calculated to enlist the attention and sympathy of every lover of music, as it consisted of the following grand works [see above].

The admirably written brochure by Dr. Pech, which was the bill of the evening and which contained an elaborate description and criticism of the works performed, enabled each of the audience to follow the thoughts of the composer intelligibly, is a feature in those concerts which alone would tend to make them eminently popular. The performance was very creditable, the chorus and orchestra doing their trying work bravely and with due spirit and unanimity. The soloists were [see above]. With the exception of Messrs. Leggat and Remmertz, who are deserving of much praise, a higher grade of excellence for the interpretation of such music would be desirable in the ladies and gentleman entrusted with the solo parts.”

“The musical world is to be congratulated on having at last heard, in its entirety, the famous Requiem of Mozart, and the Church Music Association could not have made a better use of their resources than that of applying them to its production. It is precisely works of this small but important class, cantatas, masses, psalms, the hearing of which is essential to any real knowledge of music, and which have hitherto been in New York so unattainable. They cannot be considered as oratorios; they require too much preparation to make it worthwhile to produce them at concerts; and in churches the weakness of choirs and the exigences [sic] of the service lead to their curtailment and mutilation. The Church Music Association, therefore, enables us to fill a great gap in our musical experience. The value of the Requiem is fairly estimated in the following judicious analysis by Dr. Pech [quote of two paragraphs]. 

We reprint these observations, with which we heartily coincide, the more readily because we feel obliged to say that in his analysis of ‘Lurline’ Dr. Pech has greatly over-rated the importance of Wallace’s work, and such indiscriminating praise, issued by authority of the Church Music Association, is calculated to mislead. We have on a previous occasion expressed our surprise that a weak modern opera should be considered worthy to occupy the time of the Association. As, however, the programme for the next concert is all that the most sincere purist could desire we will not cavil, but frankly own that a good deal of ‘Lurline’ is extremely pretty, and the whole rendered enjoyable by the wonderful faculty which Wallace possessed of setting forth and tricking out his themes with a thousand sparkling accessories, which a warm and exuberant fancy was always ready to suggest. Few of his methods have the originality and the chasteness which made the lasting popularity of his well-known ‘Dream;’ but nearly all his orchestral work has that variety and inventiveness which render some of his pianoforte pieces, as, for instance, his ‘Cracovienne,’ positively unique. He was an Irishman, a Celt, and if he had not sustained greatness he cannot be denied the possession of genius, poetic feeling, and that facility of expression which seems to be inherent in the race.

It is a curious circumstance that the Church Music Association is, in apparent unconsciousness, trying for us a very important experiment, that, namely, whether operatic music can be separated from scenic display. Several years ago the great German writer on counterpoint, Dr. Marx, announced his conviction that the opera was the worst and lowest form in which music could be written, that to unite music and dramatic action was to hamper both, that in short there should be no more opera, Italian or other; and that the operas already written should be sung in concert-rooms as oratorios are. This view has lately been revived by a critic of considerable ability, and it is one with which, for obvious reasons, the stricter religious sects would be likely to agree; indeed, a certain influential American clergyman has advocated the idea in his lectures with great energy. The operas of ‘Oberon,’ ‘Preciosa,’ and now ‘Lurline’ having been thus treated, and with, undoubtedly, a fair degree of artistic success, there remain, besides, the important fragment, ‘Lorlie,’ which we are to hear shortly, many others, ancient and modern, to which we should be thankful to see this experiment applied, merely, however, as an experiment; for the abolition of the Italian opera, with all its charms and all its recollections is a thing to do which we have not yet made up our minds.

The performance on Monday night was, on the whole, satisfactory. The chorus went admirably through the Requiem, and some trifling baulks in the opera were of little moment. The tenors, who, all through the rehearsals, were miserably weak, sang with a spirit which made the balance between male and female voices less equal.

As a part singer, Mme. Janorska is an acquisition to our not too numerous body of resident vocalists. Her knowledge, readiness and power of co-operation, without any attempt to divert attention exclusively to herself are valuable qualities. As a solo singer, however, the harshness of her voice and the indistinctness of her articulation render her less acceptable. The contralto, Miss Antonia Henne, possesses a fresh and agreeable voice, and sings extremely well. Her ballad in ‘Lurline’ would have been encored had encores been possible. The voice of Mr. Leggatt is a light tenor of beautiful quality. We heard it said that it was ‘not quite enough’ for Steinway Hall, but if a voice is slightly wanting in power the remedy is, not that we should lose it from our concert-rooms, but that the orchestra should play a little more softly, and the audience listen a little more attentively. Mr. Leggatt has not caught quite the tone of the very purest models, and his voice needs practice and fluency lest it should become hard; at the same time he deserves the utmost credit for having resisted the influence of vicious fashions, and for the manly and unaffected style in which he sings. Mr. Remmertz appears to greater advantage than he did last year. The delicacy and refinement of his method is remarkable as contrasted with the power and amplitude of his voice, and he needs only greater distinctness of articulation to render his singing thoroughly agreeable.

Mrs. Gulager appeared to us to have found her true field in English opera; yet we do not share the generally-expressed regret that she could not be transferred to the boards of the Academy. Bad as Steinway Hall is, acoustically, the Academy is worse; and it is precisely when Mrs. Gulager forces her voice to its utmost that her singing is least charming, and that our apprehensions are aroused lest some day we should lose it altogether. In Lurline, difficult as the part would be for a singer less completely trained, there is nothing but what the lady can execute with ease; and the pleasure of listening to all those graceful phrases and delicate flights, soaring over chorus and orchestra, and anon gliding downward to a few tender, beautifully-uttered English words, was of no common kind.

The time in which Dr. Pech takes some movements is altogether incomprehensible to us. Poor Wallace’s pretty idea in the church style of his ‘Ave Maria’ was made quite ridiculous by the pace at which it was rushed through, and the same tendency was observable in the Requiem, the awful solemnity of the ‘Rex tremende’ being entirely destroyed. To hurry slow movements and drag quick ones, and so reduce everything to the level of a ‘service’ is an unfortunate course to take with the Requiem, which is already sufficiently grave for the taste of a mixed audience. The concert was too long, and the clever, noisy overture to ‘Struensee’ could well have been spared, serving, as it did, to make the Requiem sound dull and old-fashioned. In order to perform this overture, a band at least two-thirds larger than was needed for anything else, was engaged, and succeeded in drowning the voices of the singers and driving the tenor out of his mind by egregious mistakes in the accompaniment of his best song, after the invariable fashion of instrumentalists got together in a hurry.”