Theodore Thomas Symphony Concert: 4th

Includes program. 

“Mr. Thomas’ fourth symphony concert, which took place at Steinway Hall last evening, should, perhaps, be accounted the most interesting of the series. It included, in happy proportions, music of almost every order, and it supplied, as usual, the large measure of gratification afforded by a well-nigh perfect recital of the programme. Beethoven was first represented by his Fourth Symphony, which is not the greatest achievement of its composer, but which has merits which the works wherein his mightier thoughts find expression might advantageously possess, that is to say concentration and extreme finish. The symphony was exquisitely played, the fourth movement—the finale, so taxing to the violins—showing in the strongest light the absolute precision Mr. Thomas’ band has attained to. Bach’s concerto for two violins and orchestra followed, Messrs. Jacobsohn and Arnold being the soloists. The second section of the concerto, a largo, was listened to with manifest pleasure, a delicious motive being developed with faultless taste as well as with consummate art, the ultra-scientific tendencies of the writer not being yielded to sufficiently to rob the harmonies of their fluency and clearness. We were less agreeably impressed by the first and third movements, which have more affinity with elaborate bowing exercises for the violin than with anything intended to charm the ear. Messrs. Jacobsohn and Arnold, although among Mr. Thomas’ orchestral performers, quite justified his choice by an excellent performance. The first-named artist has a sweet and full tone; the tone of the latter is thinner, but of crystalline purity, and the technique and virtuosité of both left nothing to be wished. A splendid recital of Brahms’ ‘Hungarian Dances’—the newest—brought the first part of the entertainment to a close. The allegretto of this number is of delightful quaintness, and the preceding allegro molto is to be cited as a final example of sonorous orchestration. The second half of the evening was occupied by Raff’s new piano concerto, and by a fresh symphony by Hofmann, called ‘Frithjof.’ The concerto has already been alluded to in this place when made known by the Philharmonic Society, but we are heartily glad that Mr. Thomas, who, had it not been for the illness of Mr. Mills, would have been first in the field, should have selected it for subsequent interpretation. It is a very winning, scholarly achievement, not perhaps rich in original or elegant themes, but thoroughly pleasing in thought and color, and symmetrical in form. The theme of the andante is positively lovely, and the treatment of the movement is so varied and so complete that this section alone constitutes a highly meritorious composition. Mme. Madeline Schiller, who was the pianist last night, read the concerto with far more charm and force than her predecessor in the same task. Mme. Schiller appeared before a New-York audience about a year ago, and her style, then recognized as exceptionally tasteful and polished, has gained vigor and lost neither delicacy nor brilliancy. We cannaot say that the lady is an unrivaled pianist, for her shading is rather deficient in nicety; her wrists are not the iron wrists of a Rubinstein, and she does not always bring from the Steinway piano the singing tone which we have heard players having a slighter control of the graces of their art than herself compel the instrument to give; Mme. Schiller’s method, however, is so good that her performance is of unbroken smoothness, never startling, but never disappointing; her runs, arpeggios, and trills are simply unsurpassable in their liquidity and evenness, either of these qualities excluding the crispest definition of every note, and her rendering, which is rather unimpassioned, is always controlled by intelligence and the strictest taste. The ornate arabesques, with which the piano overlays and surrounds the orchestral phrases, were conspicuously advantageous opportunities for the display of Mme. Schiller’s flexible and sparkling execution, and indeed, her whole recital was so creditable that quite an enthusiastic recall followed it. ‘Frithjof,’ Hofmann’s new symphony, was the single element of the programme which gave rise to any feeling akin to disappointment. It abounds in reminiscences, and its orchestration is much below that of half a dozen of the modern composers whom Mr. Thomas has introduced to American dilettanti. The first movement, ‘Frithjof and Ingeborg,’ impressed us as the best; it appears to illustrate the meeting of two lovers, and the music, not uncommonly rich or ingenious in its combinations, is at least suave. The three remaining sections, ‘Ingeborg’s Lament,’ an intermezzo, and ‘Frithjof’s Return,’ are far inferior, the intermezzo in particular being an olla-podrida of well-known and well-worn effects.”

“The fourth Symphony Concert, which took place under Theodore Thomas’s direction on Saturday evening, at Steinway Hall, was in some respects the most interesting of the season. Connoisseurs will perhaps not agree in calling the programme the strongest of the series; but the attraction of novelty was offered in unusual abundance, and the whole performance was brilliant and exhilarating. The following were the selections [see above].

Beethoven’s Symphony in B flat (erroneously described by the programme as in B—probably because the amanuensis was more familiar with the German than the English names of the keys, B in German standing for a flat, and the letter H being used to designate the note which we call B) was superbly played. The majestic Introduction was taken with great slowness, dignity, and precision. At the crescendo passage which leads into the Allegro vivace the violins gave out a remarkably bright tone, all the bows moving precisely together in the three vigorous up-strokes, loud, distinct, and full, and with this grand and almost startling prelude the movement rushed on. The Adagio, perfect type of that form of melody into which Beethoven of all masters, ancient or modern, has put the deepest spiritual meaning, was delivered with an exquisite tenderness, and with that fine variation of tempo which distinguishes a really eloquent and appreciative interpretation from a mere mechanically exact execution. In the Scherzo and the Allegro Finale, Mr. Thomas is able to maintain a speed which few conductors think it safe to venture. The pace is by no means extravagant; it is fast enough to give the true spirit of the movements, without that sacrifice of intelligibility which Beethoven used to lament as a frequent fault in the performance of this very symphony. Every phrase stood out as clear as sunlight.

The Bach concerto was a remarkable triumph, and the audience received it with genuine enthusiasm. It may be rudely described as a violin duet, with accompaniment by the string orchestra. The first movement is a marvelous piece of counterpoint; the second, a most delicious melody, whose tender phrases passing from one instrument to the other, answer, and interlace, and wind among the gentle orchestral harmonies until the soul is ‘wrapt in measureless content;’ the third reverts to the spirit of the first. It is the Largo which most quickly captivates the unlearned listener; but the whole work is a glorious one, whose greatness becomes more and more impressive at every repeated hearing. Messrs. Jacobsohn and Arnold performed their very difficult parts to a marvel, and were recalled by the audience with many demonstrations of satisfaction.

Between the two classical masters who led the programme and the three modern composers who followed there was a strong yet not unpleasant contrast. After the somewhat thin and formal orchestration of Bach’s string concerto, the coloring of the three Dances, in which Brahms has employed nearly all the resources of the modern band, seemed wonderfully rich. The additional characteristics of a robust and martial people, fond of pomp, parade, gorgeous apparel, and a sort of dignified masculine gayety, appear in these vigorous dances, and there is a certain wild energy about them too which conjures up images of the Gypsy camp or the village revels of the horsemen of the [illegible]. The work has never been played in America until this season. As for the Raff concerto we are tempted to say that until Saturday night it had never been fairly heard in New-York at all, for the performance on Saturday was so different from that at the Philharmonic concert early in the season that the work seemed like a new thing. In the first place the orchestra was so fine—particularly in the great crescendo passage of the Andante—that we might have enjoyed the concerto even with an inadequate pianist; but Madame Schiller brought to its interpretation a clear and refined conception, a graceful and pearly touch, a poetical expression, and a certain force and directness which we cannot praise too highly. Her playing was simply charming. This, and the great beauty and majesty of the orchestral accompaniment, combined no doubt with the undefinable influence of a bright and appreciative audience, an interesting programme, performers all in good spirits, and a fine hall in which the piano and the orchestra are always heard at their best, gave us a much higher opinion of the concerto than we had entertained before.

Heinrich Hofmann, whose ‘Frithjof’ Symphony brought the evening to a close, is a young composer whose works are now exciting great interest in Germany, and of whom many good judges have formed the highest expectations. He is favorably known here by his ‘Hungarian Suite,’ produced by Mr. Thomas about a year ago. We believe he is Hungarian by birth and residence. His orchestration has all the high color of the modern masters, but he belongs rather to the picturesque school of Raff than the purely poetical school of Liszt and his imitators. The Frithjof Symphony, though it is divided into the orthodox four movements, has none of the classical spirit. It is a series of brilliant tone-pictures, interrupted by an Intermezzo. The Saga of Frithjof is one of the most famous relics of the ancient Icelandic literature. It was the basis of the most celebrated of Swedish poems, the production of Bishop Tegnér, who died in 1846. Tegnér’s poem has been several times translated in English, and is the subject of an essay by Longfellow. According to the old Saga…[plot summary follows]. The music with which Hofmann has undertaken to illustrate certain portions of this legend is fairly well fitted to the subject. In the first movement a beautiful phrase for the clarinet alternates and contrasts with an expressive and much more masculine phrase for the strings; here we have at once the delicacy of the woman’s love, and the bold wooing of the flaxen-haired giant, and the whole movement, while it is sturdy in expression, is nevertheless emotional in spirit. This portion of the Symphony, ‘Frithjof and Ingeborg,’ has the same designation which Tegnér prefixed to the first canto of his poem. The second movement, ‘Ingeborg’s Lament,’ bears the title of the ninth canto, in which Ingeborg wanders by the sea, and watches for the white sails of the long absent lover, and whispers to Frithjof’s falcon, perched on her shoulder,

‘When I am dead

He will return; to my message give heed—

Welcome and comfort, over and over,

My sorrowing lover.

The music here is plaintive and beautiful, and its meaning is instantly apparent. The intermezzo is charming in itself, having a great deal of the character of the Mendelssohn scherzo; but it does not seem to have been suggested by any incident in the poem. Probably the composer felt the want of something to indicate more clearly the supernatural element, the conflict between mortal heroism and the adverse forces of the invisible world, the constant presence of mysterious beings who peopled the woods and glens, the caverns of the earth and the depths of the frozen lake, which marks so strongly the old Scandinavian poetry. If this was his purpose, he has succeeded; yet the story of Frithjof, after all, is one of purely human love and trial, and the interruption of these Sprites, ‘fairer than the sun,’ Rime-Giants born of venomous vapors, is not altogether agreeable. ‘Frithjof’s Return’ in the poem is the twelfth canto, which describes the hero’s angry coming back from the Faroes; but Hofmann seems to have intended to include in the movement to which he gives this appellation the final triumph and reunion of the lovers. The characteristic phrase of the first movement occurs again, and the Symphony closes with a fine fortissimo, of a cheerful yet dignified character. We certainly cannot place this work among the great symphonies; brilliant, picturesque, and interesting are the adjectives which we should apply to it; but it is music which must command attention, and it is worth more than one hearing.”

“On Saturday evening Theodore Thomas gave a concert which, in respect both to the selection of the pieces and the manner of their execution, was as near perfect, as any concerts, in which the trumpets are not blown by angels and the other instruments played by seraphs, can be.

The programme was happily varied and contrasted, neither too light nor too weighty, but exactly as it should be. It was as follows [see above].

If there was any weakness in this programme it was in the fact that after the superb performance of the Beethoven symphony nothing could follow that would bring the audience up to the same impression of completeness and satisfaction at which the symphony left them. If any composer can follow Beethoven without detriment it is Bach His concerto for two violins and orchestra, quaint, simple, graceful, and earnest, was played with true feeling and sentiment by Jacobsohn and Arnold. The Hungarian dances gave life and spirit to the programme. Brahms on a visit to Hungary was so much struck by the peculiar rhythms and wild melodies of some of these Hungarian national dances that he noted them down and afterward harmonized them as four-hand piano pieces, in which form they became so popular in Germany that Joachim arranged them for orchestra. Brahms himself and Madame Schumann have been accustomed to play them together, and with much more liberty as to time than Thomas gives them. The essential flavor of them is found in abrupt rallentandos and accelerated and strongly accented passages.

Madame Schiller played Raff’s concerto with fine taste and execution. She is not a pianist of the bravura school, but showed herself possessed of a perfect understanding of the sentiment of the music, a fine touch, accomplished execution and nearly all the qualities that make a fine pianist.

Hofmann’s symphony entitled Frithjof improves on hearing. Liszt and Wagner were undoubtedly its godfathers, but it certainly is better than much of the extravagance of Liszt. No description accompanied it to make its meaning clear, which was unfortunate, for such a key would of course have added greatly to its interest. It was doubtless founded on the old Icelandic poem, half truth and half romance, known as the Frithjof’s Saga.”

“On Saturday evening Mr. Theodore Thomas gave the fourth symphony concert of the present season at Steinway Hall. An extremely large and distinguished company assembled on this occasion to enjoy the exceptionally good entertainment provided for them by the untiring energy of this great conductor. It is extremely gratifying to witness the rapt attention of the whole audience throughout the performances of music which makes such considerable demands on the reflective powers.

Beethoven’s symphony was rendered in the most faultless manner, both as regards its special interpretation and the technical details. No greater homage can be paid to the memory of this wonderful composer than such magnificent performances of his productions. By filling subscription lists monuments may be built, or statues erected to the memory of great men; but it is only by making their works known and appreciated, or by emulating their noble deeds, that they appear to be worthily honored. From this point of view the artist, whether creative or executive, is to be regarded as the highest patron of art; and it must therefore be claimed for Mr. Theodore Thomas that in spreading a knowledge of the abstract instrumental works of Beethoven in this new and vast country he not only extends the name and fame of this great master, but also creates for Beethoven enthusiastic and intelligent admiration and love, which will fructify and be productive of the highest results. These highly artistic performances not only attract the attention of those who as yet have not learned to comprehend classical works, but also unfold to sincere and earnest students of art, who have long been intimately acquainted with them, many beauties which had hitherto remained unperceived. Even Wagner confesses that simply from the technically excellent playing of the Parisian violinists the remarkable melodic phraseology of Beethoven and the significance of the Ninth Symphony were revealed to him for the first time. The same remarks apply equally well to the concerto of Bach—for two solo violins and accompaniments for a stringed band—which followed.

Too many musicians are content to admit the unapproachable greatness of John Sebastian Bach, and ready to confess to the wonderful sublimity of his fugues and other prodigious works, though they do not study them so fully as to perceive their deep inner meaning. Indeed, many of those who perform them seem content to show that they have mastered the special executive difficulties which stand in the way of their effective delivery. But we had occasion to point out after the rehearsal of last Thursday that the performance of this concerto by Messrs. S. E. Jacobson and Richard Arnold was not marked by any discoverable shortcomings; not even those which frequently mar the full enjoyment of solo music, namely, the conscious putting forward of self at the expense of the composer. Such a subjective performance is entitled to the highest praise, which will be readily accorded by all those who took more than a superficial view of it. It seems unnecessary to draw attention to the beautiful quality of tone (soave), obtained by light and swift bowing, employed in the passages of sixths in the Largo, or the quality of Mr. Arnold’s high notes, produced from the lowest string, at the close of the movement, or other similar details, after what has been said above.

The audience were apparently greatly pleased with the Hungarian dances by Brahms. Their wild and strange rhythms, and curious melodic forms are extremely fascinating. The trombones not being used in the Beethoven symphony, the orchestra was here employed for the first time in all its fullness and splendor. The instrumentation, though not so highly elaborate as that of the Liszt ‘Rhapsodies Hongroise,’ is yet very warm and glowing.

Madame Schiller confirmed the good impression which she made at the rehearsal, being highly successful in the performance of Raff’s piano-forte [concerto] in C minor.

Although the accompaniments are wonderfully rich and exuberant, they were so admirably balanced that the soloist was not oppressed by too great a volume of tone even in the fortissimo.

Madame Schiller has a most intelligent touch and possesses the qualities which distinguish true artists. Her exciting accelerando in the finale did not pass unnoticed, nor her sympathetic interpretation of the eloquent Andante. The almost painful silence observed by the audience during the performance, followed by the tumultuous outburst of applause at its conclusion, combined with the natural excitement produced by the execution of the music, must have been almost overwhelming to Madame Schiller. She was recalled three times, receiving thus tokens of esteem and admiration from the audience, which she acknowledged in a respectful and dignified manner. Being now fully reassured of her welcome, she will, we hope, soon appear again. Hoffmann’s symphony, ‘Frithjof,’ which we reviewed on Thursday, closed the concert. The impulsive, rapturous opening of the Allegro, the slightly Wagnerish phrase for brass instruments in the Adagio, the descriptive opening of the Intermezzo, and the joyously triumphant conclusion of the final Allegro were points all worthy of notice.”