Contemporary American Composers Part 20

Faintly they seem to whisper, as round the boughs they wing; "We are the ghosts of the flowers who died in the early spring, Who died in the early spring."

Copyright, 1889, by Arthur P. Schmidt & Co.]

"My Turtle Dove," among the "Five Norman Songs," in fearlessness and harmonic exploration shows two of the strongest of Miss Lang's traits.

Her _recherches_ harmonies are no pale lunar reflection of masculine work. Better yet, they have the appearance of spontaneous ease, and the elaborateness never obtrudes itself upon the coherence of the work, except in a few such rare cases as "My Native Land," "Christmas Lullaby," and "Before My Lady's Window." They are singable to a degree unusual in scholarly compositions. To perfect the result Miss Lang chooses her poems with taste all too rare among musicians, who seem usually to rate gush as feeling and gilt as gold. Her "Oriental Serenade" is an example of weird and original intervals, and "A Spring Song," by Charlotte Pendleton, a proof of her taste in choosing words.

Her opus 32 is made up of two songs, both full of fire and originality. Opus 33 is a captivating "Spring Idyl" for the piano, for which she has also written a "Revery," of which the exquisiteness of sleep is the theme. The music is delicious, and the ending is a rare proof of the beautiful possibilities of dissonance.

Personally, I see in Miss Lang's compositions such a depth of psychology that I place the general quality of her work above that of any other woman composer. It is devoid of meretriciousness and of any suspicion of seeking after virility; it is so sincere, so true to the underlying thought, that it seems to me to have an unusual chance of interesting attention and stirring emotions increasingly with the years.

An interesting and genuine individuality will transpire through the most limited amount of creative art. This has been the case with the few published works of a writer, whose compositions, though unpretentious in size and sentiment, yet reveal a graceful fancy, and a marked contemplation upon the details of the moods.

Irene Baumgras was born at Syracuse, New York, and studied the piano at the Cincinnati Conservatory of Music, where she took the Springer gold medal in 1881. She studied in Berlin with Moszkowski and Oscar Raif. She was married in Berlin, in 1884, to Philip Hale, the distinguished Boston musical critic.

Her devotion to her art was so great that her health broke down from overwork, and she was compelled to give up piano playing. Some of her compositions have been published under the name of "Victor Rene." Her 15th opus is made up of three "Morceaux de Genre," of which the "Pantomime" is a most volatile harlequinade, with moods as changeful as the key; a remarkably interesting composition. Four "Pensees Poetiques" make up opus 16. They include a blithe "Chansonette" and a "Valse Impromptu," which, unlike the usual impromptu, has the _ex tempore_ spirit. Of her songs, "Mystery" is a charming lyric; "Maisie"

is faithful to the ghoulish merriment of the words; and "An Opal Heart" is striking for interesting dissonances that do not mar the fluency of the lyric.

Of much refinement are the fluent lyrics of Mrs. Mary Knight Wood.

They show a breadth in little, and a fondness for unexpected harmonies that do not disturb the coherence of her songs. They possess also a marked spontaneity. An unexpected effect is gained by the brave E flat in her "Serenade." Her popular "Ashes of Roses" also has a rich harmonic structure. Among other songs, one with an effective obbligato for the violoncello deserves special praise. She has written also for the violin and piano, and trios for 'cello, violin, and piano.

Other women who have written certain works of serious intention and worthy art, are Mrs. Clara A. Korn, Laura Sedgwick Collins, the composer of an ingenious male quartette, "Love is a Sickness," and many excellent songs, among them, "Be Like That Bird," which is ideally graceful; f.a.n.n.y M. Spencer, who has written a collection of thirty-two original hymn tunes, a good anthem, and a Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis of real strength; Julie Rive-King, the author of many concert pieces; Patty Stair, of Cleveland; Harriet P. Sawyer, Mrs.

Jessie L. Gaynor, Constance Maud, Jenny Prince Black, Charlotte M.

Crane, and Helen Hood.

CHAPTER VI.

THE FOREIGN COMPOSERS.

Ours is so young, and so cosmopolite, a country, that our art shows the same brevity of lineage as our society. Immigration has played a large part in the musical life of the United States, as it has in the make-up of the population; and yet for all the multiplexity of his ancestry, the American citizen has been a.s.similated into a distinctive individuality that has all the traits of his different forbears, and is yet not closely like any of them. So, American music, taking its scale and most of its forms from the old country, is yet developing an integrity that the future will make much of. As with the federation of the States, so will one great music ascend polyphonically,--_e pluribus unum_.

In compiling this directory of American composers, it has been necessary to discuss the works only of the composers who were born in this country. It is interesting to see how few of these names are un-American, how few of them are Germanic (though so many of them have studied in Germany). Comment has often been made upon the Teutonic nature of the make-up of our orchestras. It is pleasant to find that a very respectable list of composers can be made up without a preponderance of German names.

The music life of our country, however, has been so strongly influenced and enlivened and corrected by the presence of men who were born abroad that some recognition of their importance should somewhere be found. Many of them have become naturalized and have brought with them so much enthusiasm for our inst.i.tutions that they are actually more American than many of the Americans; than those, particularly, who, having had a little study abroad, have gone quite mad upon the superst.i.tion of "atmosphere," and have brought home nothing but foreign mannerisms and discontent.

Among the foreign born who have made their home in America, I must mention with respect, and without attempting to suggest order of precedence, the following names:

C.M. Loeffler, Bruno Oscar Klein, Leopold G.o.dowski, Victor Herbert, Walter Damrosch, Julius Eichberg, Dr. Hugh A. Clarke, Louis V. Saar, Asgar Hamerik, Otto Singer, August Hyllested, Xavier Scharwenka, Rafael Joseffy, Constantin von Sternberg, Adolph Koelling, August Spanuth, Aime Lachaume, Max Vogrich, W.C. Seeboeck, Julian Edwards, Robert Coverley, William Furst, Gustave Kerker, Henry Waller, P.A.

Schnecker, Clement R. Gale, Edmund Severn, Platon Brounoff, Richard Burmeister, Augusto Rotoli, Emil Liebling, Carl Busch, John Orth, Ernst Perabo, Ferdinand Dunkley, Mrs. Clara Kathleen Rogers, Miss Adele Lewing, Mrs. Elisa Mazzucato Young.

It is perhaps quibbling to rule out some of these names from Americanism, and include certain of those whom I have counted American because they were born here, in spite of the fact that their whole tuition and tendency is alien. But the line must be drawn somewhere.

The problem is still more trying in the case of certain composers who, having been born here, have expatriated themselves, and joined that small colony of notables whom America has given to Europe as a first instalment in payment of the numerous loans we have borrowed from the old country.

For the sake of formally acknowledging this debt, I will not endeavor to discuss here the careers of George Templeton Strong, Arthur Bird, or O.B. Boise, all three of whom were born in this country, but have elected to live in Berlin. Their distinction in that city at least palely reflects some credit upon the country that gave them birth.

POSTLUDE.

In the ninth century Iceland was the musical center of the world; students went there from all Europe as to an artistic Mecca. Iceland has long lost her musical crown. And Welsh music in its turn has ceased to be the chief on earth. Russia is sending up a strong and growing harmony marred with much discord. Some visionaries look to her for the new song. But I do not hesitate to match against the serfs of the steppes the high-hearted, electric-minded free people of our prairies; and to prophesy that in the coming century the musical supremacy and inspiration of the world will rest here overseas, in America.

THE END.