Philharmonic Society of New-York Public Rehearsal: 11th

     “There are no musical entertainments at present so extensively patronized as the rehearsals and concerts of this popular society. Considering the programme for each concert comprises the best works of the German school, without any of those clippings or mutilations with which other less enterprising and less capable musical organizations disfigure them, we may look upon the Philharmonic concerts as the highest type of music we have in New York. In the present programme they have, despite the carpings and snarlings of the soi-disant critics, taken up the most abused, and in truth the most acceptable, of Richard Wagner’s works.  Poor Wagner! persecuted in Bavaria for his brusque, outspoken sentiments on music and politics, and the fearless stand which he made against the sickly trash of modern Italian composers, has found enemies even in the land of freedom. His opponents on this side of the Atlantic poohpooh [sic] in the most supercilious manner everything emanating from his prolific brain, and stigmatize his Tristan and Isolde as the purposeless ravings of a musical maniac. With what truth these ‘unprejudiced’ oracles thus speak we shall see. [brief summary of opera plot] The overture or introduction as played by the Philharmonic Society on Saturday last sufficiently explains the intention of the composer. The opening surprised us as something so foreign to the ‘music of the future.’  Instead of a harsh and rugged orchestral massing, we were greeted with a largo Mendelssohnian strain, in 6-8 time, in which the fair Isolde appears. The entire power of the orchestra is gradually brought in with some beautiful cello themes, the fittest for describing the peerless beauty of the lady.  The frequent use of the diminished seventh gives a plaintive character to this part of the introduction, and the orchestral coloring is warm and glowing throughout. There is nothing harsh or grating, but a billowy movement of full chords, very different from the empty shells of the modern Italian school. The change of key from C to A, and in movement from largo to vivace, introduces the Knight and an animated conversation follows. The passionate love of Sir Tristram and the coyness of Isolde are vividly portrayed and fantastically ornamented with violin and viola morceaux, reminding one of the flutterings of the Midsummer Night’s Dream. The lovers’ interview is rudely broken in upon by the clash of arms and the near approach of enemies. Then come the charge, the fight and the repulse of the intruders, described with the vim and dash of the Wagner school. The overture ends with the wailing of Isolde over her lover, who has been severely wounded in the fray. It breaks off rather abruptly as a piece, but when taken in connection with the first part of the opera the transition is natural from the concluding strain of the introduction to the story of which it is the argument.  The time gradually slackens towards the end. Regarding the way in which Wagner ‘stalks from one position to the other’ on the violin, some keen witted critics may claim to be able to anticipate his progress with certainty; but this is an assertion to be received cum grano salis. Wagner’s movements are as mysterious as the future itself, and no one can guess his method of treating a subject beforehand. His introduction to Tristan and Isolde will compare favorably, at least, with any of the works of the modern Italian school.  Of course, when it is mutilated and butchered by incapable concert troupes, it will never prove popular; but in the hands of the Philharmonic Society and their excellent conductor we doubt not but that it will create a furore equal to that which the Tannhauser caused some years ago when rendered by them.”