Venue(s):
Academy of Music
Conductor(s):
Carl Bergmann
Event Type:
Orchestral
Status:
Published
Last Updated:
27 October 2025
“Orchestra of 100 men.”
Brief. Notes that Raff dedicated his Bach arrangement to the Philharmonic Society.
“The second Philharmonic concert of the present season occurred at the Academy of Music last evening. It was possessed of the mild interest which for some years has attached to the performances of the society. The energy and industry of Mr. Thomas long ago sounded the death-knell of the Philharmonic recitals as performances representative of the musical taste of a great city, and this Winter, the symphony concerts and rehearsals at Steinway Hall have quite supplanted them. We need not review the causes which have brought about the disfavor into which the association has fallen. They have been written of in these columns again and again, and can be summed up in two words: narrow-mindedness and avarice. The unwillingness to secure the cooperation of the best soloists has affected particularly the attractiveness of the Philharmonic concerts, and the executive committee, not daring to depend wholly upon the instrumental selections, have brought forward vocalists and pianists commended by cheapness and no other quality. But we need not go over oft-trodden ground, nor point a moral which is made apparent every month. Last night’s entertainment, as mentioned above, was of the usual order. It commenced with a satisfactory rendering of Schumann’s third symphony, one of the clearest of the composer’s works, and one of the selections which derive most benefit from the wealth of tone of Mr. Bergmann’s orchestra, while not taxing their proficiency with too great severity. The second instrumental number was the andante from Beethoven’s Trio, opus 97, instrumented by Liszt with perfect appreciation of the suave beauty of the themes and the air of mystery which the immortal master seems to have sought to cast about some forms of their development, and admirably interpreted by the band. The novelty of the evening, a chaconne in D major by Bach, arranged for grand orchestra by Herr Joachim Raff, was the first piece of the second part. We confess that the utility of achievements of this sort does not impress us strongly. The positive value of Bach’s compositions as models of pure polyphonic writing cannot possibly be enhanced by the ingenious and learned efforts of modern musicians, and we hardly think that in Bach’s legacy the subjects repay the setting. Herr Raff’s task was, of course, most skillfully performed, and all the resources of a modern orchestra were drawn upon with consummate art, and in a spirit of deep reverence for the stately and rather melancholy elegance of the original work. The orchestral programme closed with Berlioz’s ‘Carnival Romain,’ the glow and clangor of which Mr. Bergmann’s band once more proved itself equal to realizing. The vocalist of the occasion was Miss Rosburgh, a young lady who has a voice of wide compass, and of excellent tone in the highest register, and whose execution is remarkably fluent. Neither the volume or color of Miss Rosburgh’s voice, however, is suited to selections from oratorio music, nor is her elocution distinct enough to endow the text with its required eloquence. Hence ‘Gli angui,’ from ‘Il Flauto,’ although marred by an unsuccessful attempt to touch the highest note of the well-known bravura-air, was a more creditable performance than ‘On mighty pens,’ from Haydn’s ‘Creation’. Miss Rosburgh was recalled after ‘Glu angui,’ and she recited in acknowledgment of the summons to reappear some variations by Vaccai, which were still better fitted to her attainments as a display-songstress in spe.”
“The second Philharmonic concert, which took place on Saturday evening before a pretty large and select audience at the Academy of Music, was a highly interesting concert that surpassed the rather weak first concert in every respect. It cannot be denied that the Philharmonic Society has made many mistakes in the last few years; but when it comes to giving a proper classical concert, a truly classical program, the Society is still the first in the field. And it was a really classical program that the Society offered us on that evening. J. S. Bach, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Schumann, and, to close, for some contrast, Hector Berlioz, provided the compositions featured on the program. We will begin with the novelty of the evening, the Ciaconna in D minor by J. S. Bach, which Herr Joachim Raff, an honorary member of our local Philharmonic Society, arranged for large orchestra and dedicated to our Philharmonic Society. It received its first performance in New York at this concert. The Philharmonic managed, at the eleventh hour, to obtain a copy of this new arrangement, which Theodore Thomas had been advertising for weeks for his upcoming first matinee concert; by performing it, the Philharmonic stole the prize from Thomas. Under these circumstances, the Ciaconna and the concert benefitted from effective marketing, and there was naturally excitement around the work. Ciaconna, or Ciacona, is a serious, noble dance, which is most common in earlier French operas. The Ciaconna must have been beloved in its own time, for a great number of them survive today. They were notated in ¾ time and had four-, or at most eight-bar phrases, and their melodies contained a number of small variations on a short theme, which is placed over a steady, recurring bass. Nowadays one can really only hear the chorales in Gluck’s ‘Armida’ and ‘Alceste,’ or a Ciaconna by Bach, of which Esser, as well as Raff, has orchestrated one or two. It is an unfortunate matter, arranging such works for our large, modern orchestra. These works are meant for the little orchestras of their own times, and they lose much of their simplicity, naivete, and clarity when they are cloaked in the shiny, colorful, modern garb of our current orchestra, as Raff cloaked Bach’s D minor Ciaconna. Excepting that, Raff’s arrangement is still a masterly work. It fully preserves the character and peculiarities of the stately composition; each of its turns, which are sometimes accelerating, sometimes slow dance steps. The Ciaconna, which, however, does not present any particular difficulties, was superbly played under Karl Bergmann’s inspired direction. The same can be said of Schumann’s E-flat Major Symphony, which was was conceived of on the banks of the Rhine, ‘the holy river.’ It contains more great original ideas, more real delicate beauties, more poetic feeling, and more enchanting melodies than all the rest of Schumann’s other symphonies combined. The Andante from Beethoven’s great B-flat Major Trio, Opus 97, which was orchestrated by Liszt and not played here for a long time, was a very welcome gift; it was brought to live with a poetic breath that highlighted the work’s beauty and delicacy, and was especially appreciated by the audience. In sharp contrast to the instrumental pieces so far mentioned was Berlioz’s overture, ‘Römischer Carneval,’ which concluded the concert with its great cymbal crashes. Fräulein Ida Rosburgh was a soloist. With artistic self-denial [künstlerischer Selbstverläugnung] the coloratura singer chose Gabriel’s ‘Auf mächtigen Fittigen’ from Haydn’s ‘Schöpfung.’ That she managed to succeed with this aria, which gave her flexible throat no opportunity to shine, proves that she sang in a highly satisfactory manner—as far as her voice, which is not particularly powerful, allowed her. She was more at ease in the great coloratura aria from the ‘Zauberflöte,’ which was recalled with thunderous applause; she followed it with vocal variations by Vaccai.”
“The second concert of the New-York Philharmonic Society drew a much better audience than the first. The following was the programme [lists program].
Schumann’s ‘Rhenish’ or ‘Cologne’ symphony in E flat, is the third in numerical order, but really the fourth and last in date, of his greater works for the orchestra. It has always been a favorite in this city, and in the judgment of many competent critics it is not inferior in merit to any of the series, although No. 2, in C major, is grander in conception and more masculine in style. The performance on Saturday night was creditable but not brilliant. The flowing and gentle harmonies of the beautiful andante were very well given, but neither the scherzo nor the finale shown with the clear, bright light which they require, and occasionally the execution was weak and scrambling. We copy the title of the fourth movement (allegro) as it is habitually given by the programmes of the Philharmonic Society, but, as we remarked the last time the symphony was played by this orchestra, allegro certainly does not indicate either the character of the movement or the speed at which Mr. Bergmann takes it. It is marked in German feierlich, of which perhaps the best translation would be religioso, and Schumann originally wrote over it ‘An Accompaniment to a Solemn Ceremony.’ The symphony was composed under the influence of the festivities attending the elevation of the Archbishop of Cologne to the dignity of Cardinal.
Liszt’s magnificent arrangement of the Andante Cantabile from Beethoven’s celebrated trio is another familiar work of which we never tire. This was played with taste, feeling, and in several passages with great technical excellence; but the harp which has such a conspicuous part in Liszt’s score was unaccountably absent, and its place was indifferently supplied by a cottage piano. Indeed it was only in the Chaconne and the Berlioz Overture that the orchestra really did itself justice. In both these selections we found a precision of attack, unity of sentiment, and vigor of touch which we missed in the earlier portions of the programme. The Chaconne was written for violin alone, and Mendelssohn added to it the piano-forte accompaniment with which it is usually published. Raff, in setting it for full orchestra, dedicated it to our Philharmonic Society in acknowledgment of his election as an honorary member. He had preserved in the most admirable manner the pure, simple, majestic style of the grand old master, and given us such a score as we can imagine Bach might have made had he undertaken to adapt this charming dance measure to a well equipped modern orchestra. The work was not originally on the programme for this concert; it was taken up rather hurriedly in order to anticipate Theodore Thomas, who has announced it for his matinée next Saturday. Nevertheless it was well done.
Miss Rosburgh has a very pretty voice, a good intonation, an excellent method, and quite enough intelligence. Her physical strength, however, appears to be slight, and she was overtaxed in a great building like the Academy of Music. It was partly for this reason that her delivery of the aria from ‘The Creation’ lacked breadth. In the selection from ‘The Magic Flute’ (the first aria of the Queen of the Night, ‘Non paventar,’) she just reached the high F. In response to a recall she sang a florid Italian air.”
“At the Academy of Music on Saturday evening the Philharmonic Society of New York gave their second concert of the present season. Schumann’s symphohy in E flat was remarkably well performed, and being in a broad, massive style was eminently adapted to produce a good effect when performed by a large body of instrumentalists. The excellent playing of the cellists was heard to great advantage in the Scherzo.
The Beethoven trio was spoiled by the substitution of a piano-forte for the harp. Liszt knew well the powers of his own special instrument, but preferred employing one which, though more limited in technical resources, was better suited in character to carry out his intentions. In many respects the harp differs materially from the piano-forte. It always combines well with the other orchestral instruments. A chorus of thirty or forty harps has a good effect, but a chorus of piano-fortes would be unbearable. Liszt wrote this harp-part most carefully and with due regard to the capabilities of the instrument. Had he decided to employ a piano-forte the chords would have been displayed very differently. Bach’s ‘Ciaconna’ was admirably given and afforded great gratification.
These works having been reviewed at length in these columns, further remarks respecting their great merits need not here be made.
Miss Ida Rosburgh sang ‘On mighty pens’ from Haydn’s ‘Creation,’ in a most satisfactory manner; and also the recitative and aria from the ‘Magic Flute,’ which was taken in the original key, notwithstanding that the pitch of the orchestra has been greatly raised since Mozart’s time. This fact must be considered when judging of the difficulty of reaching some of the high notes which occur in the final movement. It was sung so well that Miss Rosburgh returned and gave the introduction, rondo and variation from Vaccai’s ‘Pietro il Grande’ in F major, beginning, ‘Deh se pieta per miseri,’ at the close of which a shake on high C was most successfully made. The runs were all sung with a large, full tone (not piano or mezza voce, as by the majority of vocal and instrumental performers), and each note was clearly defined and strictly in tune. After listening to exaggerated forms of the portamento, the vibrato, and other similar evidences of bad taste on the part of singers at classical concerts, it is quite refreshing to hear music, worthy of the co-operation of the orchestra, so well rendered.
Berlioz’s ‘Carnival Romain’ concluded the concert.”