Edward Elgar and His World (33 page)

[...] The net result of the festival is to place Dr. Elgar in a position such as has probably never been occupied by an English musician before. His popularity is beyond question, and his influence upon the future of English music must necessarily be very important. It is to be hoped that he will recognize this to the full, and will take a serious view of the responsibility which his brilliant talent has laid upon him.

Musical Gossip
BY
‘C
OMMON
T
IME
'

Musical Opinion
27 (April 1904): 521–22

D
R
. E
DWARD
E
LGAR
has come out of the festival organised in his honour with flying colours. As a rule, a program
[sic]
devoted entirely to the work of one man is apt to prove wearisome, and there was every reason to think that three concerts of Elgar's music would be too much of a good thing. But the truth is that the composer, from the “Froissart” overture to “The Apostles,” has had many styles which are only bound together by a thread of individuality. The temperament of the composer, of course, has not changed. What may be called the “Elgarian” cast of melody is as noticeable in the early works as in the later, although the workmanship is very different.

A
SECOND
hearing of “The Apostles” did not make me alter my first opinion of it in any essential degree. The score contains some glowingly imaginative pages which, in conception and technical mastery, are far above anything in “The Dream of Gerontius;” but, none the less, it does not seem to me so successful in an artistic sense. The subject, of course, is not so complete; not so pliable to the personal treatment which is the strength of the composer. It is laid out in a series of pictures which have no great connection one with another; and Dr. Elgar has so seized on the picturesque side of the matter that the spiritual ideas are more or less swamped. The orchestra plays a large part in the work, and I must confess that I found it the most interesting part. But, after all, the vocal portion of an opera and an oratorio must predominate if the main idea of a work is to impress. Elgar's writing for the voice has greatly improved since he composed “The Dream of Gerontius;” but it still does not seem to me that he thinks in a vocal sense. His melodies do not come to him as song; they are not the natural outcome of the words that he sets. In “The Apostles,” for instance, there is but very little vocal music that really would impress one apart from the harmony and the orchestral colour. Again, in his laying out of the choruses, he is too inclined to make his voices part of the whole contrapuntal web, as if they were additional instruments. The effect in performance is not equal to the clever appearance of the music on paper. Much that one expects to come out well is comparatively ineffective.

A
PART
from all these technical defects, however, the work fails to make the impression that it should, because the composer has not kept to a very central idea. He continually wavers between description and the expression of personal feelings; between the dramatic and the lyrical view of his subject. One finds this, to be sure, in the works of many a great composer. Handel, for instance, is descriptive in one chorus and in the next he is abstract and emotional; but Dr. Elgar has a fancy for mixing his point of view whenever musical exigences
[sic]
prompt him. As an instance, I may mention the realistic description of the pieces of silver (by a gong and shivering of cymbals) in the midst of the impressive Judas music.

“The Apostles,” however, is not a work that can be finally judged by two hearings. It is to [be] performed again by the Royal Choral Society this month, and I shall go to its performance with an open mind. At present it impresses me in detail, but the cumulative effect is not impressive. The new overture, “In the South,” in spite of a rather weak opening, and perhaps some diffuseness, is a work which should raise the composer's reputation. Once again I thought that Dr. Elgar finds his proper expression in orchestral composition rather than in oratorio.

 

Part III: The Gloucester Festival Performance (September 8, 1904)

The Three Choirs Festival was perhaps the most important choral festival in Britain in the early twentieth century (indeed, it remains one of the most important to this day). It is an annual event whose venue rotates among the cathedrals of Worcester, Hereford, and Gloucester, and is so called because its festival chorus was traditionally drawn from the choirs of those three cathedrals. Typically, the festival began on a Sunday with a service that included an anthem and canticles specially written for the occasion; this was followed during the week by a series of morning and evening concerts that included several large-scale choral works (including
Messiah
and
Elijah)
and a rather smaller number of orchestral works. The festival usually included several premieres of works by British composers.

In 1904, the Three Choirs Festival took place in Gloucester and ran from September 4 to 9
. The Apostles
was performed in Gloucester Cathedral on the morning of September 8 as part of a concert that also included Beethoven's Eighth Symphony.

The soloists included four of those who had sung at the premiere (Albani, Foster, Coates, and Ffranggon Davies); Dalton Baker sang St. Peter,
⁴⁷
and Harry Plunket Greene, who had sung the Angel of the Agony in the premiere of
Gerontius,
sang Judas.
⁴⁸
As was customary for the festival, the cathedral organist (in this case A. H. Brewer) appeared on the program as well, conducting the Beethoven symphony.
⁴⁹

The Gloucester Festival

Musical News
27, no. 708 (24 September 1904): 259

The author of this article, G. H., has not been identified
.

[ … ]

The chief interest centred in “The Apostles,” which was given, under the composer's direction, on the Thursday morning and afternoon. Since this work was first heard at the Birmingham Festival, last year, much has been written about it in these columns and elsewhere. The scheme and treatment of this oratorio, if such it can be called, has aroused much discussion, and created a variety of opinion. Those who are accustomed to and prefer the old orthodox style for oratorio would, doubtless, be disappointed at a first hearing of such a work as “The Apostles.” Those, on the other hand, who are fascinated by a novel and vivid treatment of an old story will hail it with pleasure, as they will see in it a new method of oratorio. But whatever may be the opinion, both sides must be struck by the magnitude of the work, its intricacy of treatment, and its novel effects, and both cannot fail to admire the genius of the man who created it. A detailed account of the work is superfluous, as it has now been performed in London and important musical centres, and has frequently been described and analysed. Briefly, it is the story of the “Calling of the Apostles,” ending with the Ascension. This is presented in a series of musical pictures which are vivid in colour, varied in treatment, and dramatic in character. A broken chain of events rather than a connected whole. A story told by brilliant and picturesque episodes rather than by a continuous sequence of events. Hence it has not the structural finish or continuity of the composer's “Dream of Gerontius,” but, technically, it is in advance of it, as, though the design is not so satisfactory, the details are more intricate. The composer's use of leit motif is peculiar and excessive. Some of his themes—notably the harsh progression of the “Christ-motif”—are startling. The orchestration is very complex. It needs only an examination of page 15 to see how closely the texture of the score is woven.
⁵⁰
The main characteristic of the work is the curious blend of mysticism and realism. This, though very ingenious, has, occasionally, a disquieting effect. The “Fantasy” where the Magdalene bewails her sins, while the chorus suggests her past life in music of a different character, is daring and original, but it is doubtful if it produces the effect intended. Among many beautiful scenes, those that are memorable are the peculiar pathos of the “Betrayal” scene, the dramatic force of the “Judas” section, the peaceful beauty of the “Sepulchre” section. All these arrest the attention, either on account of their emotional depth, or by the power of their forcible dramatic presentation. As regards the performance, it was, on the whole, a satisfactory one. It was only natural that in a work making such exacting demands on chorus and orchestra, there should be some awkward moments. But they were few. The tone and precision of the chorus were splendid, and the fine playing of the orchestra was equally noticeable. The soloists performed their parts effectively. Mdme. Albani, as
The Blessed Virgin
and
The Angel
, sang with that devotional expression with which this great artist always interprets sacred music. Miss Muriel Foster sang the part of
The Magdalene
with rare emotional and dramatic power. Mr. Ffranggon Davies, as
Jesus
, delivered the impressive music with due solemnity. As
Judas
, Mr. Plunket Greene was forcible and dramatic, but his intonation was not good, and occasionally the sentiment and passion of the words were too accentuated. Mr. Coates as
St. John
, and Mr. Dalton Baker as
St. Peter
, were both excellent in their respective parts. Beethoven's Eighth Symphony, which brought the afternoon programme to an end, provided a pleasing contrast to the emotionalism of the previous work, and was very well played, under Mr. A. H. Brewer's careful direction.

—G. H.

The Gloucester Festival
T
HE
N
EW
W
ORKS
.

Monthly Musical Record
34 (October 1904): 185–86

Another article by E. A. Baughan.

I
N
looking back on the festival the chief memory is of two British religious works which presented features so diverse that comparison of them is not without interest; need I say that I refer to Sir Hubert Parry's “The Love that casteth out Fear” and Sir Edward Elgar's “The Apostles.”
⁵¹
The two oratorios seem at first blush to differ so radically in workmanship and musical aim that a comparison may appear to be out of place. In some ways that is so; but as being the religious musical expression of two of the most prominent English composers, there is room for thought in comparing the complexion of the two works.

I have now heard “The Apostles” thrice—at Birmingham, at Covent Garden and at Gloucester. From the first the oratorio struck me as disconnected, as wanting in a central idea carried out consistently. The composer has apparently desired to mix realism or description with abstract religious thought, perhaps taking some of Bach's cantatas and Wolfrum's “Christmas Mystery” as his models. Only on this ground of realistic naivete can you explain the rather cheap realism of an instrumental description of the thirty pieces of silver on the cymbals, and of the opening choruses with the use of the shofar. Then, again, the repentance of Mary Magdalene, with its punctuation of a chorus describing the fascination of the old life, falls within the same type of treatment. There is no reason why a modern composer should not make use of this realistic background, but it must be laid on with tactful brush, otherwise it becomes of more importance than the principal figures. It is here that Elgar seems to me to have failed. His series of pictures are individually of interest, especially in their orchestral colour and general treatment. But the plan of the whole is by no means organic. The Apostles, whom the composer wished to draw as men, according to what he has told several interviewers, do not loom with importance. On the other hand, the figure of Christ is purposely made shadowy, and the unessential matter of the repentance of Mary Magdalene is given too much prominence. Apart from this weakness of the work I personally cannot put myself in sympathy with the composer's type of religious feeling. It is, if I may so put it, too servile. In “The Dream of Gerontius” the sentimental mysticism of the music is thoroughly in keeping with the character of Cardinal Newman's poem, and it has also the merit of seeming to be an expression of the composer's own religious outlook. At any rate, the music of the earlier work rises to a natural climax and has the air of personal sincerity, which I do not notice in “The Apostles.” The story of their “call” does not bear that sentimental treatment. Yet though the composer has orchestrally given vigour to his musical picture, beneath the outside of the work there runs the same vein of sentiment. No doubt this is due to the faith which Sir Edward Elgar holds. To me, and, I have no doubt, to many others, this results in a monotony of style which becomes cloying in its sweetness. The same characteristic is to be noticed in all the composer's religious works, from “The Light of the World” to “The Apostles.” It is not, in short, an English treatment of religious feeling; indeed, it is far removed from national character.

It is here that the work of Sir Hubert Parry is so different. His treatment of the big subject of the smallness of man and the largeness of Divine Love is full of a manly reverence and force. In his music man acknowledges the greatness of God without abasing himself. There is no sentimental “whine” in the music. In wholeness of conception, too, the short oratorio is organic. There is none of the wavering between realism and abstract thought that makes the treatment of “The Apostles” so unequal—an inequality that is the cause of the unsatisfactoriness of many of Richard Strauss's symphonic poems. One is almost tempted to think that the modern composer jumps from an abstract treatment of his subject to a realistic for the simple reason that realism gives so many openings for effective orchestral writing. Sir Hubert Parry has apparently no sympathies with that view of art. The form of oratorio rightly remains in his mind as a form of art in which abstract thought can be best expressed—indeed, it is the very essential of oratorio. In his “The Love that casteth out Fear,” the composer has made a very effective use of a semichorus as the Divine voice. In the cathedral this had a fine effect of aloofness. In other ways the work is a good example of the composition of the ‘Job” period of the composer's creative career.
⁵²
The sincerity of the music and its breadth of feeling, peculiarly characteristic of the composer, made their own impression, but the specific musical invention and inspiration of the work are not on the same level as the conception. Were they so the new Gloucester oratorio would be on an infinitely higher plane than “The Apostles.”