The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1903-07-19
THE, ORCHESTRA AT WORK,
WISDOM or THE AGED VIOLA
AND THE BUDDING BOY.
why Docs the Music OF wagner Arouse
the Public More I'm the Concert Hall
Than Any Other Music?--A Question
often Put Dut Stin Unanswered.

| why Docs the Music OF Wa Ener Arouse
the Public More I'm the Concert HAL
Than Any Other Music?--A Question
often Put But Stil Unanswered
The aged viola looked at the boy, and tht
, boy looked at the aged viola. They poised
| their instruments and their bows as the
conductor raised his baton, and prepared
to play with all their hearts and all their
souls. The baton descended, and the aged
viola and the boy, recalling themselves
took down their instruments and waited;
Tor the opening OF the mighty overture
was not for them. It was for the soft
breathing OF two horns, two clarinets and
two bassoons. Gently as the first coming
OF southerly wind after calm the four
Instruments breathed the hymnal tune.
Az II neared the close Of it's first strain the
aged viola and the boy made ready again,
and presently their Instruments together
with the cellos. Joined the wind in the
utterance OF passage tense with pain
This. too, gradually swelled in force and
turmoil, till it was suddenly upborne upon
a strong and pulsatile throbbing of all the
strings, while the agitated wind instru-
ments were Joined by the solemn from
bones, and now there broke from the slender
threats Of these sacerdotal singers the
great choral melody OF the overture. Around
1t the voices Of the violins wove a fantastic
aerial descant, which, by it's startling con-
trast, accumulated tho dignity of the song.
Presently that, too, sank again into the
whisper Of the softer wind instruments.
while the violins let their writhing descant
die away into distant mutter.
Then in the twinkling OF an eye the solemn
choral was interrupted by the soaring
voices Of the violas uttering a wild bac-
chanalian cry. Flutes, oboes and clarinets
took il up, while violins quivered with the
new emotion. A madness seized upon the
whole orchestra. Instruments pursued one
another incontinently up and down steep,
mountainous chains Of cleaning tones. then
hnrtled downward in chaotic confusion, a
crazed jangle of warning sounds. The
very air whirled and seethed with the tremor
of it all, and the lights burned garishly along
the pasteboard canal.
Trombones beloved in the Vastly deeps
and trumpets screamed in blaring shrieks
along the upper levels. The tympani ragged
ceaselessly and the 'cellos shivered in dis
cordant chromatics from their lowest bass
to their highest treble. The world had gone
mad with tonal intoxication; the orgies Of
all crazed bacohantes were as the antics of
children to such phantasmagoria of per-
dition as this. At length came a great,
crashing chord, and out Of its depths leapt a
brilliant triumphal march of praise, in which
all the singers of the instrumental chorus
joined.
But this trumphal march could not last
Again the fevered carnival of the baccha-
nalian revelry broke forth, and in it's reeling
storm the march staggered and sank. Sud-
denly there was pause, while a violin
scared away TO upper air. and then, amid
a trembling and huttering of all the strings,
a single clarinet sang melody so full of
loves most agonized pleading, a wall like
that of the long dead Paulus Slentiarius:
But would tina, also in my breast
Were Quenched the fatal Hrc
That tortures me with long unrest
And wakeful. wild desire
The bacchanalian strains returned, but
this time more softly and with less OF fire
in the veins Of the singers. Again this
thought gave way to the triumphal march.
That march acted like hot liquor on the
song, which again burst into the furiant
strains Of the bacchantes. The waves of
sound leaped wildly and the imagination
staggered under the pictures of tempestu-
GUS revelry which they painted. But,
bark! What solemn song is this which
comes again like the hymning of some
grave choir OF cowled priests? 1t is the
mighty choral with which the work began,
and now it swells into a majestic pealing
anthem, surrounded by a shimmering
glory of strings like the Holy Grail illumined
from on high; and striding imposingly on
ward in one last glorious burst of tone it
rounds the overture to a radiant close,
like the sound of great Amen"
The aged viola laid down his instrument
He drew from his pocket worn silk hand
kerchief He rubbed his eyes with it.
He polished his glasses with it. He put 1t
back in his pocket. He made queer noise
several times with his throat as IL he were
trying to swallow something that would
not go down. He looked hard at the red
lights along the edge Of the dark canal and
blinked vigorously as II they hurt his eyes.
Presently he heaved trcmulous sigh.
shook his head and murmured:
-Aoh, Gott. how fine it must be to be in
heaven now Wagner is there!"
Are you sure he is there?" asked the
boy.
"Of course he is! How could he help it
after writing such music?'
But" said the boy, -suppose----"
Suppose what' Suppose it 30 I can
hear it,"
Suppose some of the others are also
there"
yes; Of course; Bach. who wrote the B
minor mass. and Beethoven, who wrote
the sacred symphonies, and even Men
delssohn--'
Pardon me, father" said the boy, in
terrupting what promised to be long
catalogue; Il did not mean such masters
as those. What fear Is that some of the
Italian composers of those religious
in all keys and TenebrB Stunt and ALA
Trinita Beata, you know have gone there,
too. Dear, dear, what a pity it would be
to have the war between German and
Italian music go on in the next world!'
my child of nature do you speak seri-
ously, or do you again poke fun at an old
man? Verify. / tell you that in heaven
there shall be no parties nor schools nor
schisms nor divisions. There Donizetti
shall shake hands with Handel and Liszt
sha II lie down with Bach"