Theodore Thomas Symphony Concert: 2nd

Includes program. 

“The second symphony concert of Mr. Thomas’ present series took place at Steinway Hall, which was crowded in every part, last night. The programme was of the usual high order, and it was interpreted with the wonted spirit and precision. It commenced with a Suite in B minor, by Bach. This composition, recited for the first time by Mr. Thomas’ orchestra, corresponds with the general conception of the nature of pieces of this sort; it is a series of dance-tunes, quaint and rather dignified, instrumented with matchless ingenuity and contrapuntal skill, and decidedly interesting from a historical standpoint. The suite embraced a ‘Grave’ and ‘Fugue,’ a ‘Polonaise et Double,’ a ‘Sarabande’ and a ‘Badinerie,’ and was interpreted with unimpeachable clearness and delicacy. Mr. Henry C. Timm, a pianist of the old school—filling the place of Mr. Mills, who is still confined to his room—contributed the second number of the evening in shape of an ‘Adagio and Rondo,’ in A major, by Hummel, a work quite characteristic, in its formality and purity of style, of that learned composer. Mr. Timm was greeted with exceeding cordiality, and was heartily applauded after a performance of which the style appeared contemporary with the piece. The first part of the concert concluded with an admirable rendering of Schumann’s First Symphony, one of the most healthful and impressive works of that fitful man of genius. Its reading was certainly one of the finest efforts Mr. Thomas’ band has ever made, a volume of tone seldom attained to being poured forth throughout the four movements, and the delicious scherzo being handled with a mingled vigor and gentleness, imagination and mechanical perfection, which we do not expect to hear surpassed. The second half of the entertainment included a vocal trio by Beethoven and a Symphonic Poem by Liszt. Mr. Thomas is not so happy in his choice of vocal music and singers as in dealing with his instrumental selections, and though one can award to the trio, ‘Tremate, empi, tremate,’ the praise of being, so to say, in character as a specimen of the opera seria music of the period, we cannot express warm admiration for its purely scholastic merits, or for its correct but rather colorless rendering. Miss Clementina Lasar, Mr. Fritsch, and Mr. Remmertz have excellent voices, but none of them have the mastery of declamation essential to the eloquence of such numbers as the trio. Liszt’s achievement was ‘Die Ideale,’ modeled upon Schiller, and more conspicuous by the magnificent scoring, which throws a purple mantle over the composer’s poorest themes, than by any appreciable beauties of thought. Many of the Abbe’s works are preludes, and might share, with a valuable increase of intelligibility, that title, already bestowed upon one of his most widely known productions.”

“Steinway Hall was literally crowded, from the first row of the floor to the last seat in the upper balcony, last night. We know of no previous occasion in which there was such an overwhelming audience and one also so enthusiastic and appreciative. Mr. Thomas has now become so identified with the progress of music in this country that to him the musical public must turn in gratitude for the great works he has given them, and in anticipation of future surprises. To him we owe the elevation of public taste that can now appreciate the highest standards of the classical schools, and that will chafe under anything trivial or superficial. He has certainly made Wagner as palatable and familiar as were formerly light overtures and salon works. The deep interest taken in the production of ‘Lohengrin’ at the Academy of Music has been in a great measure owing to the impression produced by the matchless band of Mr. Thomas in the rendering of extracts from the great master’s opera. Withal Mr. Thomas has not been one sided in his selections for his programmes. He has also made Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Haydn, Mendelssohn and Schumann household words. He has endeavored, and successfully, to present a variety of subjects, a sort of bird’s-eye view of the vast realms of music. The programme last night consisted of the following works [lists works].

The performance of the suite was hearty, earnest and finished, and the fantastic work of Schumann, abounding in difficulties and rather bizarre in its treatment, was a triumph for the band. The same may be said of the extraordinary work of Liszt, one of the wildest conceptions of the erratic Abbé. The soloists acquitted themselves in the most artistic manner.”

“The second of Mr. Thomas’s Symphony Soirees took place on Saturday evening at Steinway Hall. The hall and galleries were filled, despite the extremely unpleasant weather that prevailed in the evening. The program was [illeg.] compiled; each work could, in a sense, be considered a representative of the period in which it was written. Bach’s Suite in B Minor opened the concert. A certain form of the suite emerged in the 17th century; it had to comprise a number of different dances or movements in dance rhythms, and all had to be in the same key. From this suite later developed the sonata and the symphony. The B Minor Suite offers a very pretty theme in a strict, concise, and contrapuntal arrangement, which is not without a touch of genius. Schumann’s fantastic Symphony No. 1 and Liszt’s ‘Ideale’ were also performed, and as usual, impeccably so, the excellent orchestra under the direction of Herr Thomas. Herr S. B. Mills was ill and unable to perform. Herr Henry C. Timm replaced him, and played an Adagio and Rondo Brillante in A Major by Hummel. Herr Timm, though a veteran of our stages, has not appeared publicly in years here. And yet he still plays wonderfully: consistently, fancifully, correctly, and with polish. He has fine, elegant execution, from which even our modern virtuosos can learn. Hummel’s composition seems almost old-fashioned to us, but it is and remains a pleasure to hear such a work from a master like Timm. Herr Thomas was probably dissatisfied with the selection of Beethoven’s trio ‘Tremate empj [sic] tremate,’ as the piece was definitely beyond the strength of the singers, who had to fight against the power of the orchestra. Nevertheless, Fräulein Lasar, Herr Fritsch, and Herr Remmertz won the audience’s applause.” Provides program for the next Symphony Soirée.

“There was a very large and brilliant audience at Thomas’ second Symphony Concert on Saturday evening, and the performance was applauded with more than usual enthusiasm. The following was the programme [lists program].

It was a concert crowded with feature of exceptional interest, every number on the programme being remarkable either for intrinsic importance and novelty, or for some noteworthy circumstances in its execution. The Suite of J. S. Bach’s is one of those fresh, charming, simple, melodious pieces in which this most fascinating of the grand old masters, this most debonair of musical giants, stands far above rivalry or imitation. With just enough formalism to give it a quaint air of old-fashioned elegance, it is entirely free from the scholastic dryness which the popular mind ignorantly associates with the name of Bach. Even the stately opening and the quick fugue which treads upon its heels are deliciously [illegible], the fugue deriving a peculiar beauty from the flute obligato woven into the texture with such wonderful ingenuity. The first movement of the Suite is a sort of introduction to the dance measures which follow with constantly accelerating step. The Sarabande is moderately slow and dignified. The Polonaise has less abandon than a modern composer would have given it, but it is vivacious, and its ‘Double’ (or repetition with variations), in which the flute takes the principal part, is one of the prettiest and most graceful things imaginable. Gayety [culminates?] in the frolic Badinerie, whose quick and sportive character is well described by its name. The Suite, which is scored for string orchestra and flute, is very short, and must have roused a general desire to see the name of Bach oftener on our concert bills.

Mr. Henry C. Timm, the veteran ex-President of Philharmonic Society, and one of the worthiest of New-York musicians, was greeted with great cordiality when he came forward to resume the place which he abandoned nearly half a generation ago. He gave us a rare treat. Hummel, the pupil of Mozart, was not only a great piano virtuoso, but an admirable writer for his instrument whose character he thoroughly understood, and though modern composers have accustomed us to more brilliant effects than the players of his day attempted, they have sacrificed a great deal of that quiet, beautiful singing quality in which our grandfathers used to delight. The Adagio and Rondo in A is a work of high finish, extreme elegance, and charming sentiment. Unfortunately we seldom hear such piano-forte music as Hummel’s nowadays, and we may add that we seldom hear such piano-forte playing as Mr. Timm’s. It differs from the dashing and fiery performance of the present as the polished courtesy of the old-time gentleman differs from the brilliant impudence of the modern man of society. Of course it was just the thing to follow the Suite.

Then came the Schumann Symphony like a burst of sunlight. It is a clear, bright, and richly colored work, and the performance was one of the finest achievements of Thomas’s admirable band. There are times when this orchestra seems to be in a specially glorious temper. Every instrument sends out its most perfect tone. Every hand thrills with a warm pulse and responds with more than ordinary quickness to the intentions of the conductor. Such was the mood of the seventy performers during the faultless and inspiriting execution of the Symphony on Saturday—a display of technical ability and musical intelligence and sympathy which Thomas and his artists have rarely surpassed.

The Trio, for soprano, tenor, and bass, with orchestra, is a novelty in New-York. Although it belongs to the last period of Beethoven’s life, it is so strangely like the style of Mozart that one might almost mistake it for some fragment which by mishap had dropped out of the score of ‘Don Giovanni.’ That it is exquisite in form and in the best sense of the word sentimental in spirit we need hardly say. It was very well sung by Miss Lasar, Mr. Fritsch, and Mr. Remmertz, the young lady displaying a strong and beautiful soprano voice, with many evidences of [illegible] training. She is making rapid progress in her art, and we believe there is a bright career before her.

Liszt’s ‘Die Ideale,’ which the disciples of the new school rate as one of the best of the Symphonic Poems, has not been played here very often in late years, although Thomas long ago secured for it a certain measure of popularity. More than many others of the series it needs the [help?] of the programme, and as Schiller’s poem is probably not as well known as it ought to be by the average American audience, it seems a pity that an explanatory text was not printed on the bills. As ‘absolute music’ it is inevitably a puzzle and a disappointment; but bear in mind what it is meant to be, an illustration of the poet’s ‘elegy on departed youth,’ filled with sad memories of defeated aspirations, lost joys, and vanished phantasies, but closing with the comforting reflection that, ‘though the ideal images of youth forsake us, the ideal itself still remains to the poet—his task and his companion’—bear this in mind, and his purpose becomes clear, its sentiment is quickly felt, and a hundred beauties otherwise undistinguishable start from the score.”

“The second of the series of six symphony concerts which are to represent our best orchestral music for the present winter took place at Steinway Hall on Saturday evening before an audience great in numbers and great also in enthusiasm.

The programme was a catholic one, representing in its beginning and end the two extremes of orchestral composition, the first piece being a suite by Bach, and the last a symphonic poem (Die Ideale) by Liszt. We speak of these as the extremes, because in the first we find instrumentation in its infancy, in the last we find it in the full vigor of its exuberant growth. In the first it is barren, being confined to the stringed band; in the latter it has all that modern invention has added to the sonority of an orchestra. But all this only served to show how far true genius rises above mere talent, even when that talent is supplemented and helped out by the added resources of a hundred years of musical progress, for, while Bach’s composition was heavenly in its form and beauty, Liszt’s was so distorted, harsh, and monstrous, as to be little short of devilish. The one showed in every phrase that it was the production of a man of broad, powerful, serene, and loving nature, seeing the world from the point of view naturally taken by a healthy mind at peace in itself, and conceiving musical thoughts, beautiful and simple in form, and exciting only emotion of delight; the other vain morbid, self-torturing, fantastic, incapable of feeling and expressing a noble emotion in noble musical forms, but filling the ear with short melodic phrases overladen with strange harmonies, and shifting from one musical figure to another with restless impatience, the ugliness of the whole being heightened rather than concealed by the gorgeousness of the costume in which it was dressed up. That Thomas’s orchestra was able to play two such entirely different compositions, the one in the broad. Placid and sunny spirit in which it was written, the other with all its feverish impetuosity and sinuous deformity, is to the credit of that remarkable body of performers and of their leader. None but a musician of extraordinary breadth, culture, and comprehensiveness of mind could be in sympathy with compositions so opposite in character.

The principal work performed was Schumann’s first Symphony, in B major. The work never before was played here with such fire, or in so intelligent a spirit. Many details of the composition, which are generally obscure, were made perfectly clear, and hidden meanings suddenly brought to light, as skillful readers lend new glosses to a familiar text.

There was more need of this, for Schumann, though full of splendid musical thoughts, was not a master of musical form, and struggled hard and often confusedly to give expression to what was in him. At least this was the case in the earlier periods of his career, and this symphony, especially in the writing of the passages for wind instruments, gives many evidences of the fact. But Thomas’s orchestra made the ‘crooked straight and the rough places plain.’

Mr. Timm played an adagio and rondo for piano and orchestra by Hummel. The veteran pianist, identified for thirty years and more with the cause of music in this city, though of late he has retired from public life, was still gratefully remembered and most warmly greeted. He played Hummel’s work, if not with the spirit and dash of modern technique (which… [three illegible lines]. The true modesty of the artist and the man were shown with the reluctance and timidity with which he received the harp of flowers, placed upon the stage at the close of his performance, [illegible] grateful a tribute to his worth.”

“The unrivalled orchestra of Mr. Theodore Thomas gave the second concert of the present season on Saturday evening at Steinway Hall, before an extremely large and appreciative audience; if one may judge from the utmost silence and stillness that were preserved during the performance of the music. Previous to the performance of the first piece the seats were nearly all occupied, and those persons who came late, fearing to detract from the complete enjoyment of the Bach suite, remained standing near the door until its termination, in preference to seeking their chairs at once and thus disturbing those who were listening with rapt attention to the quaint, staid and serious work of the venerated Leipsic cantor. The B minor suite was a means of exhibiting the powers of the string band, which is so remarkable for solidity, largeness and volume of tone. The obligato flute part was played by Mr. Carl Wehner, whose full round tone and broad style of delivery were well suited to the performance of this stately, dignified music, which, however, is occasionally fresh, bright and genial.

Mr. Henry C. Timm played the Adagio and Rondo brillante in A major, by Hummel, with such extremely good taste and refinement that his performance was loudly extolled. The elegant passage-work and coquettish little melody which form the principal theme of this
Rondo were given with such an attractive grace that their recurrence was heard with increased pleasure.

A magnificent performance of Schumann’s symphony in B flat followed. The grand opening phrase for horn and trumpets, having been intoned with great brilliancy and splendor, was immediately thundered forth with stupendous emphasis by the whole orchestra as an announcement of the first importance which would subsequently be treated at greater length. At an increased speed it forms the principal theme of the Allegro. This spirited, energetic and fiery movement, with its gorgeous harmonies, bold rhythms and startling, intrepid modulations, was delivered with a force and impetus completely in keeping with the character of the composition. The gentle and serene Larghetto which follows was played with such tranquility and calmness that it formed a most agreeable contrast to the impetuosity and onward rush of the preceding movement. The Scherzo and Allegro were also fully enjoyed. The piquant light opening subject, which is first heard from the violins, and at the beginning of the third part is reintroduced by the flute, was greatly admired, and the noble, exulting passage which is elaborated to form the conclusion of this Finale was produced with such grandeur and wealth of tone that its greatness and broad proportions were fully displayed.

The Trio ‘Tremate, empy tremate,’ though sung by the eminent vocalists Miss Clementine Lasar, Mr. Charles Fritsch and Mr. Franz Remmertz, and being also one of Beethoven’s early works, did not create the interest which would naturally be anticipated.

Liszt’s Symphonic Poem, ‘Die Ideale,’ concluded the concert. This great work is not formally divided into several distinct and detached movements, like an ordinary symphony, that its structural plan may be at once perceived, yet in it are preserved the outlines of a similar beautiful form. Following the example set by Beethoven, the composer Liszt, in common with others of the same school, has not scrupled to modify and vary the classic forms whenever too strict an adherence to them would hamper and restrain him in the expression of new ideas. Yet his respect for these fixed moulds is everywhere apparent, for they are always employed unaltered, so far as they are found suitable to the satisfactory expression of the spiritual contents. When modern artists have modified them (not from caprice but from internal necessity) these modifications have frequently led to new forms, and thus to great results. These writers must therefore be regarded as reformatory—not revolutionary, rejecting all restraint. In their works, though we may occasionally seek in vain for the completely developed and sharply delineated forms of the Mozartean period, yet these great models have not been wholly disregarded. Indeed, we seem to see Liszt in the present work apparently striving to give, in fact, four sequential movements in conformity with the established usage, as will shortly be pointed out. Too strict an adherence, however, to precedent would lead to a formalism destructive of all progress—would cramp and impede the musical artist, who should be completely free in the manifestation of his inner impulses; though in the exercise of this freedom he must be guided by principles which will lead him aright, that the most perfect agreement may exist between the idea and its external mode of expression.

It would, therefore, be manifestly unjust to criticize ‘Die Ideale’ as though its composer had invented certain subjects to be worked out in the ordinary [illegible] of composition. He places himself voluntarily under the dominion of the poetic ideas given by Schiller; and the new musical [illegible] spontaneously to such a theme  [illegible] their own special form of ex-[illegible] mighty river makes its own [shores?] is produced worthy of its illustrious composer.

The innumerable beauties found in the score tempt one to dwell at length at least on the most remarkable and novel, but a few observations respecting its plan must here suffice.

The Introduction, expressive of dissatisfaction, begins slowly, with soft chords for the wind instruments, and pizzicato passages for the stringed basses, followed by a horn and then a clarinet solo, which have a sorrowful, dolorous expression. The
Allegro ‘Aufschwung’ (soaring) is led off by the violins with an excited passage which is highly expressive of inextinguishable desire—a longing of yearning for something as yet unattained—and is contrasted with a second subject, which, receiving a higher degree of development than all the others, may be regarded as the leading motive. It consists of a long note, followed by four shorter ones, which occupy the following position on the major scale, viz.: 3, 3, 5, 4, 3. This motive is sometimes inverted. It occurs repeatedly in greatly varied forms in the sequel, and those who would follow the symphony intelligently must, after reading Schiller’s poem, learn to recognize this motive in all its transformations.

The Introduction is repeated at the close of this Allegro Spiritoso, as if to illustrate the undeceiving—the dissatisfaction mentioned in the poem. It leads to the Andante mesto that forms the slow movement, and is inexpressibly mournful, sad and pathetic.

To this succeeds the passage marked ‘Beschäftigung’ that passes over to the Allegretto mosso. Here the leading motive, to which reference has just been made, is found slightly altered, rhythmically and tonally, so that it forms a subject resembling, to some extent, that of the Allegretto in G minor of Mendelssohn’s symphony in B flat.

In the Finale (Allegro spiritoso molto) this theme is greatly amplified, and enters most emphatically on the chord of A major at the Apotheose. It was played by the orchestra with consummate passion and an indescribable eloquence. At this magnificent climax—

‘The universe of things seem’d swelling,’

‘The panting heart to burst its bound,

‘And wandering fancy found a dwelling

‘In every shape, thought, deed and sound’—

though the ideal images of youth forsake, the ideal itself still remains to the artist. It beautifies and exalts his life—it is his task, special avocation and ordained mission, his companion, inamorata, the child of his hopes, and in the midst of a cold, unsympathizing world, is often found his only, though great and superabundant, reward.”