Central Park Band Concert

     Includes program.

     Program.

     “The fourth concert of the season took place at the Central Park yesterday afternoon.  The weather was delightful, the het being tempered by a soft and pleasant breeze, which murmured among the foliage and ruffled the surface of the lakes into mimic waves. The trees, however, which are now in full leaf, afford ample shade, even in the hottest days, for those who desire to avoid the heat. A stroll among their green and cool arcades is a delightful relief from the dust, heat and turmoil of our principal thoroughfares. Yesterday, New-York appeared to think that there was no place like the Central Park. ‘Music has charms,’ we know, but it is seldom that the promise of an al fresco concert draws together such crowds as congregated in the park yesterday. Long before the hour arrived for the commencement of the concert, the green [illeg.] was dotted over by groups arriving from all parts of the city. The mall and the vicinity of the lake were thronged with visitors, while the zoological collections at the old [illeg.] and near the [illeg.] were surrounded by admirers, studying the habits of the animals that [illeg.] were wild, but are now reduced to a most respectable degree of tameness. Some preferred to row on the lake to standing idly on its banks, and were soon skimming its silvery surface, exploring its numerous islets, coves and creeks, and finding new beauties at every point of their passage. The boats indeed appeared to be in particular demand yesterday, and Mr. Dick must have received a small sackful of ten-cent stamps. The lake was alive with gaily painted shallops, bearing bright little flags at the stern, and the water parties appeared to enjoy themselves amazingly, judging from the ringing peals of laughter that found their way to the shore. Others preferred wandering through the numerous paths across which the trees flung cool, dark shadows, the sunlight losing itself amid the clustering leaves. Wandering here one might almost fancy that the old woodland time had come again, when

     ‘Satyrs and sylvan bays were seen

     Peeping from forth the alleys green.’

     But it is four o’clock, and a platoon of policemen march up and disperse among the throng surrounding the music stand. The crowd has now become dense, the larger portion of it being apparently composed of ladies and children and returned soldiers. On the terrace is a crowd of carriages of all descriptions, from the well-appointed turnout that befits its freight from the Fifth-avenue, or thereabout, with its varnished panels, sleek horses, silver-plated harness and supercilious-looking coachman, to the humbler vehicle, somewhat the worse for wear, of which the proprietor is his own coachman, or which, perhaps, is hired for the day.  The throng is ever moving, now seated, now roaming over the adjacent lawns which for this day are marked ‘common,’ and which display a luxuriant growth of velvety grass which the pressure of a few thousand feet is not likely to injure. Lower down is the cricket ground, which is not very well patronized, the whole party appearing to consist of a batter and a bowler, with a few boys looking on as spectators.

     The band now commence the concert with the ‘Park March,’ followed by Flotow's ‘Das Wunderwasser,’ which swells and ebbs, and sobs and dies, amid the applause of all capable of appreciating good music.  This is followed by ‘Shells of the Ocean,’ which sets the youngsters dancing and makes the oldsters look as if their dancing days were not yet over.  Meantime, the crowd is increasing, though many wander off to the lake and adjacent localities, where, let it be known, that the music can be heard just as well as within twenty feet of the music-stand.  The concert comprises many more choice pieces, among which are ‘Euryanthe,’ the ‘Katy Did’ polka and Strauss' ‘Du Couronnement.’  As the last selections are being played the long shadows are falling on path and lawn.  The crowd commence to thin out, the carriages to move.  The Mall is again crowded and the Park dotted over with groups of pedestrians, but now their faces are set homeward.  The music can still be heard, mellowed by the distance, and as we retire we may imagine the strains which come from a now invisible source are but ‘The horns Elfland faintly blowing.’”

     “THE PARK ON SATURDAY looked remarkably well. Everything was fresh, cool and orderly. Down in the city the intense heat rendered the least exertion something to be avoided if possible. Out among the flowers and trees of the Park a walk was no small luxury. From an early hour in the morning men were at work sprinkling the walks and carriage drives, and on inviting stretches of fresh, green lawns boards bearing the word ‘common’ were placed, to inform all comers they were at liberty to enjoy the ‘uncommon’ luxury of a walk on the grass. Around the orchestra, at the upper end of the Mall, marquees were put up and scores of benches placed to accommodate with seats a few persons of the many thousands who gathered to listen to the music.  From noon until after the hour when the concert commenced—half past four—the people thronged into the Park at every entrance.  Pedestrians, equestrians and people in carriages, all made their way to the place where Dodworth’s band was performing some of the choicest productions of Schubert, Donizetti, Weber, and other masters in the science of sweet sounds.  They were packed closely together, and the scene was one of the most lively character. Ladies in their light colored summer dresses; children in the coolest of cool attire; those of the sterner sex in straw hats and linen coats; while here and there among the crowded assemblages were men with crutches and dressed in soiled and faded uniforms. They are the heroes of the country, and seemed to enjoy very highly the gay and brilliant scene surrounding them.  The concert was, as usual, well managed, and every piece loudly applauded. But the music, excellent though it was, did not form the only attraction.”

     “The fourth concert of the season was given at the Park on Saturday afternoon, by the Central Park Band, under the direction of H. B. Dodworth.  The selections were well made, and creditably rendered, to an assembly far too vast to enjoy the music, thousands wandering off in various directions. . . . [T]he soft, melancholy music of Schubert or the vivacious half intoxicating strains of Strauss floating and throbbing through the atmosphere into the melody awakened heart with a semi voluptuous, semi spiritual influence. . . . Every man, woman and child looked happy under the tuscan [sic] sky of rose fragrant June. . . .

     [Long description of the park and the people in it.]

     Verily we are encouraged to believe the American people are growing civilized. . . .

     The afternoon weekly concerts at the Park are very pleasant, so much so that we think we ought to have more of them.  Let us have concerts Wednesday evenings after sunset when the burning heat of the day is over, when the moon and starlight will add to the beauty and poetry of the scene, when everybody will be at leisure and can enjoy the music.”