The Music Lover’s Library

BEETHOVEN.

The Orchestra
And
Orchestral Music

By
W. J. Henderson

Author of “What Is Good Music?” Etc.

With Portraits

Charles Scribner’s Sons
New York :: :: :: 1902

Copyright, 1899, by
Charles Scribner’s Sons

Trow Directory
Printing and Bookbinding Company
New York

To the
Philharmonic Society of New York

which has maintained through fifty-seven years its
existence as an orchestra devoted to the
performance of artistic music

Preface

This is not a text-book. It is not a treatise on instrumentation. It is not written for musicians, nor primarily for students of music, though the latter may find in it information of some value to them. This is simply an attempt to give to music lovers such facts about the modern orchestra as will help them in assuming an intelligent attitude toward the contemporaneous instrumental body and its performances. The author has endeavored to put before the reader a description of each instrument with an illustration which will enable him to identify its tone when next heard in the delivery of the passage quoted. Some account of the distinctive nature and functions of the strings, the wood, the brass, and the percussion instruments has been given. With this account go hand in hand some remarks on the development of methods of scoring. The reader will not find such historical matter in any other book with which the present writer is acquainted. Neither will he find anywhere else a history of the development of the conductor, which is given in this volume. The author has endeavored to make his work complete by describing the duties of the conductor and the requisites of good orchestral playing, and by recounting briefly the story of the growth of the orchestra and the development of its music. All other books on the orchestra which the author has seen are for the professional musician. In making one for the amateur of music the writer hopes to supply a need.

Contents

Portraits

PART I

How the Orchestra is Constituted

I
Instruments Played with the Bow

The modern orchestra is a musical instrument upon which a performer, known as a conductor, plays compositions written especially for it. It is true that an orchestra is a collection of instruments, but these are intended to be so distributed and operated that the result shall be homogeneous, the effect that of one grand organ of sound. Within itself the orchestra embraces a wide variety of tone-qualities and many grades of power and brilliancy, and these are due to the presence of several different families of instruments, each having general qualities, with special traits in the individuals. It is by causing these different families to work together or separately that the composer achieves the expression of his thought, and it is by governing wisely the operations of the individual members and the families that the conductor conveys the composer’s design to the hearer.

The orchestra of to-day is the result of a series of interesting developments, of which some considerable account will be given in this volume. But it is necessary before that development can be traced that the reader shall take a bird’s-eye view of the orchestra as it now is. Subsequently we shall examine its constitution in detail, but at present we shall simply glance at its general features. Orchestras are not the same for all compositions. Composers select their instruments in these days according to the purpose of the work in hand. But the orchestra employed by Beethoven and his immediate successors in their symphonies is the typical orchestra for independent performance. Curtailed or extended as it may be for special effects, its general plan remains undisturbed.

The modern orchestra, then, is composed of the following instruments: Flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons, horns, trumpets, trombones, drums, and other instruments of percussion, violins, violas, violoncellos, and double-basses. These instruments naturally divide themselves into families. Flutes, oboes, clarinets, and bassoons are instruments of wood, and are caused to sound by the blowing of the breath of the players. They therefore form a single group or family, known as the “wood-wind,” or, more briefly, the wood. Horns, trumpets, and trombones are instruments of brass, and they form a family known as the brass. The percussion instruments (drums, triangles, cymbals, etc.) are sometimes called “the battery.” Violins, violas, violoncellos (usually called ’cellos), and double-basses are all stringed instruments played with a bow, and they form a group known as “the strings.”

At present the reader will not be invited to study the characteristics and possibilities of these groups and their combinations, but will be asked to acquaint himself with the individual instruments composing them. The foundation of an orchestra is its body of strings. Two principal reasons may here be given for this: The strings are capable, when playing alone, of a greater variety of expression than either the wood or the brass, and they never grow tired. Blowers of wind-instruments require frequent periods of rest, but the strings are equal to the demands of an operatic act an hour and a half in length. Because the strings are the foundation of the orchestra we must study them first. The string group is often described as the “quartet.” This was correct in early times when composers wrote the same part for the ’cellos and double-basses, but it is not correct now, because the strings almost invariably play in five real parts. The violins are divided into two bodies, known as first and second violins. First violins are the sopranos of the strings, second violins the altos, violas the tenors, ’cellos the barytones, and double-basses the basses. This is not strictly true, because the compass of the viola and of the ’cello enables those instruments to sing above the violins at times. But the normal distribution of the parts of the strings is that which has been given, and this distribution is disturbed only when special effects are required, as we shall see hereafter.

THE VIOLIN

Let us begin our survey of the individual instruments with a look at the violin, the prima donna of the orchestra. The violin is both a dramatic and a colorature soprano. It can sob with the woes of an Isolde as eloquently as Lilli Lehmann, or it can twitter with the trills and roulades of a Lucia as brightly as a Melba. Its resources in the way of technical agility are great, and its powers of emotional expression are still greater. It is not necessary to expatiate upon the abilities of the violin, because it is so familiar an instrument; but it is well to note that the effect of a solo violin is very different from that of a number of violins playing together in an orchestra. A body of violins is capable of producing a vigorous, masculine, sonorous volume of tone whose character is as different from that of a solo instrument as its amount is.

The violin has four strings, the lowest being tuned to the G below the treble clef. The other three are tuned to D, A, and E, the E being that in the uppermost space of the treble clef. The E is called the first string, and the G the fourth. The compass of the instrument as employed in the orchestra is from the low G, three and a half octaves upward, to the C in the sixth space above the staff. This compass is sometimes increased by the employment of what are called harmonics. These are strangely sweet flute-like sounds, which the Germans call the flageolet tones of the violin. They are nothing more or less than what the scientists describe as overtones, or, better, upper partials. It is a fact of acoustics that every musical tone is composed of several tones, the ear hearing plainly only that which is the fundamental sound of the series. In the case of a vibrating string the lesser tones can be utilized. Professor Zahm, in his “Sound and Music,” says: “A string emitting a musical note rarely, if ever, vibrates as a whole, without, at the same time, vibrating in segments, which are aliquot parts of the whole.” Violinists have discovered that by touching the vibrating string at certain points very lightly with the fingers of the left hand, they can stop the vibrations of the fundamental tone, leaving the upper partial to be heard. These harmonics are very high in pitch and sweet in quality, and cannot be used in loud or vigorous music, but in certain kinds of passages they enable the violin to soar away into realms of ethereal beauty of tone.

The normal tone of a body of violins playing together is clear, penetrating, and rich. As Berlioz has noted in his book on orchestration, a mass of violins playing in the middle and upper registers produces the most brilliant color of the modern orchestra. The opening measures of Mendelssohn’s Italian symphony, the finale of Weber’s “Oberon” overture, the closing measures of the garden scene in Gounod’s “Faust,” or the whole of the prelude to Wagner’s “Lohengrin,” may be instanced as illustrations of pure violin color and power.

The prelude to “Lohengrin” also makes use of harmonics. They are heard in the peculiar, mystic, high tones at the close of the number. It should be noted here that harmonics, or upper partials, need not be used simply to increase the compass of the violin. On the contrary, they can be produced from any of the four strings. Those of the G string, for instance, have a singularly mellow, flute-like quality. Thus, harmonics can be employed in tone-coloring, in which the resources of the modern orchestra are almost inexhaustible.

A great many special effects can be produced from violins. The manner of drawing the bow across the strings has much to do with them. For instance, bowing close to the bridge of the instrument produces a rough, metallic sound, while bowing over the finger-board evokes a soft, veiled tone. There is even a difference in the sound of a tone produced by the pushing of the bow upward and that given out when it is drawn downward. The use of the toe or the heel of the bow also makes a difference. The toe is best employed for a delicate touch, while the heel is used for short, vigorous notes. All possible gradations between a smooth, fluent cantilena and the sharpest staccato are possible to the violin, and can be employed in the orchestra with excellent effect.

Rapid alternating strokes of the bow upward and downward produce the tremolo effect, which is very common in orchestral music. Berlioz notes, with his customary accuracy in regard to instrumental effects, that the tremolo of violins expresses great agitation when played by many violins not far above the middle B flat, while a forte on the middle of the first string is stormy and violent. Wagner’s “Flying Dutchman” overture affords admirable examples of both these effects.

The saltato is sometimes employed. This is a performance of rapid successions of notes by causing the bow to jump on the strings by its own elasticity instead of drawing it smoothly. The direction col legno, sometimes seen in orchestra scores, means that the violinists are to use the backs of their bows instead of the hair. This produces a harsh, grotesque kind of staccato, and it is a method employed only in music with something of grim humor in it. Some of the best instances of its employment are to be found in Wagner’s “Siegfried,” where it is used in the music accompanying Mime’s betrayal of his gleeful expectations of Siegfried’s death.

Pizzicato is a term used to express the plucking of the strings with the fingers. This is a very familiar musical effect. In earlier times it was employed very little, and confined chiefly to the basses. It is very common in modern music, and sometimes whole movements are directed to be played in this manner. The familiar pizzicato movement of Delibes’s “Sylvia” ballet is an excellent example.

Sordines are little contrivances of wood or brass with teeth which can be pressed down over the strings so as to deaden their vibrations. You will often, if you are observant, see the players take them out of their waistcoat-pockets and place them over the strings of their instruments just in front of the bridges. These sordine, or mutes, give the tone of the instrument a veiled sound, which adds to the mournfulness of pathetic music, and to the mystery of anything weird or strange. In the “Queen Mab” scherzo of Berlioz’s “Romeo et Juliette” symphony, for instance, the use of the sordines adds to the suggestion of the supernatural world, while in “Asa’s Death” in Grieg’s “Peer Gynt” suite they deepen the impression of crushing sorrow. For the benefit of those who read orchestral scores it must be added that the direction to use the mutes is con sordini, and the words senza sordini signify that their use is to be discontinued. The use of the bow after a pizzicato passage is directed by the words col arco, or simply arco (the bow).

Violins in the orchestra are divided into two bodies, first and second. A friend once asked me: “What is the difference between a first and a second violin?” The question amused me and I repeated it to my friend, Philip Hale, the brilliant music critic of the Boston Journal. He promptly answered: “There is no difference except in the price.” That is quite true. Violins are all alike, but a first-violin player is sometimes paid more than a second. The reason for dividing the instruments into two bodies is that the middle voices of the harmony may be properly filled out. If there were no second violins, the violas, which we shall presently consider, would have to play continually in their upper register in order to fill what may be called the contralto part of the harmony. Then the ’cellos would have to be pushed up into the tenor register, and there would be a big gap between them and the low-toned double-basses. On the other hand, if the violas were kept down, there would be a gap between them and the violins. But by dividing the violins into two bodies, the second violins are available for the notes of the harmony lying between those sounded by the first violins and those given out by the violas. First and second violins can frequently play the same notes, when the harmonic support is confided to the wind-instruments, and thus a double amount of power is attained. Indeed, it is not uncommon to write a melody for all the violins, violas, and ’cellos to sing together, with wind accompaniment. First and second violins, on the other hand, are often subdivided into four or more parts. So are all the other stringed instruments. This is an effect which we shall consider more in detail when we come to the extended examination of the separate choirs.

THE VIOLA

This adorable instrument always reminds me of Shakespeare’s Viola—“She never told her love, but let concealment, like a worm i’ the bud, prey on her damask cheek.” The viola speaks often enough, but no one recognizes her voice. She is unknown to the average concert-goer. Kept in the background by the position of the players, who sit behind the violins, and by the unskilful employment of the earlier composers, this beautiful and expressive member of the viol family is almost a stranger to lovers of music. The viola is nothing more or less than a larger violin with a deeper compass. The violin is tuned, as we have already seen, thus:

[[audio/mpeg]]

The viola has also four strings, which are tuned thus:

[[audio/mpeg]]

In order to avoid the inconvenience of writing the part of the viola in two clefs, the old custom of writing it on what is known as the alto clef is continued. The peculiarities of clefs will be explained in a separate chapter. The viola is both a tenor and a contralto, though it is usually employed in modern scores to discharge the duties of a tenor. The early composers knew so little about its expressive power that they frequently used it simply to reinforce the basses. The most recent writers have gone to the other extreme. They have been so delighted with the individuality of the viola’s tone that they have shown a tendency to overwork it. The lowest register of the viola has a peculiarly sepulchral tone, which gives it a dark and threatening character, admirably adapted to the demands of tragic music. In its middle register the viola sings with a peculiar pathos which cannot be imitated by any other instrument playing in the same region of pitch, and even in the higher parts of its scale the viola maintains its individuality by a penetrating sweetness and gentleness of tone. Nevertheless, it blends well with other stringed instruments. If a composer desires to write a long scale, exceeding the downward range of violins, he can pass from violins to violas, and so to ’cellos, without any abrupt change of tonal quality. Again, violas can be used to reinforce other stringed instruments, as in the beginning of the andante con moto of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, where they play the melody in unison with the ’cellos. Meyerbeer, Berlioz, and Wagner have made excellent use of the characteristic qualities of the viola. The first named gives a good example of his style of treatment in the viola accompaniment to Raoul’s romance, “Plus blanche que la blanche hermine,” in Act I. of “Les Huguenots.” Berlioz employs a solo viola in his “Harold in Italy” symphony to represent Byron’s melancholy wanderer. Wagner takes advantage of the peculiar tone-color of the instrument in many places in his scores. A familiar example is that which begins the bacchanalian passage in the “Tannhäuser” overture:

[[audio/mpeg]]

All that has been said about the methods of bowing, tremolo, pizzicato, harmonics, sordines, etc., applies to the viola as well as to the violin.

THE VIOLONCELLO

This instrument is so well known that it will not be necessary to say much about it. Its tone and its various effects are familiar to all concert-goers. The ’cello is tuned precisely as the viola is, but an octave lower:

[[audio/mpeg]]

The compass usually employed in the orchestra is three and one-half octaves from the low C to the G just above the treble staff. This compass may be increased further by the employment of harmonics. Students of scores will find that three different clefs are used for ’cello music, as explained in the account of clefs.

All that has been said about playing the violin applies also to the ’cello, though, of course, in orchestral music the ’cello is not expected to display so much agility as the violin. It is heard to the best advantage in broad and fluent melody. As Berlioz justly says: “Nothing is more voluptuously melancholy or more suited to the utterance of tender, languishing themes than a mass of violoncellos playing in unison on their first strings.” He might have added that nothing is more expressive of dignity without passion than the lower tones of the ’cello when uttered by several instruments at once. Owing to its great compass the ’cello can be used as the bass of the string quartet, as a solo instrument, or as the singer of the melody with an accompaniment by the other strings.

THE DOUBLE-BASS

The irreverent frequently call the double-bass the “bull fiddle.” It is the foundation of the string choir and the fundamental bass of the whole orchestra. It is tuned thus:

[[audio/mpeg]]

It must be borne in mind, however, that the notes sound an octave lower than written. The instrument is called the double-bass because it was used in early times to double the bass part played by the ’cello. It is only since the beginning of the nineteenth century that it has generally been given an independent bass part. Beethoven extended its powers immensely and revealed capacities which earlier composers did not suspect the instrument of possessing. Indeed, some of Beethoven’s contemporaries looked askance at his innovations. Weber wrote an article on the great man’s Fourth Symphony. In it he depicted himself as hearing in a dream the comments of the instruments of the orchestra. The contra-bass (double-bass) says:

“I have just come from the rehearsal of a symphony by one of our newest composers; and though, as you know, I have a tolerably strong constitution, I could only just hold out, and five minutes more would have shattered my frame and burst the sinews of my life. I have been made to caper about like a wild goat, and to turn myself into a mere fiddle to execute the no-ideas of Mr. Composer.”

The time had not yet come for the famous recitative passage of the basses in the Ninth Symphony. The same methods of bowing, etc., as are applied to the violin are applied to the double-bass, but without any attempt at great agility. Sordines, or mutes, are not used, because an effective mute for a double-bass would weigh about two pounds and would be very inconvenient to carry in the pocket. Harmonics can be produced from the double-bass, but they are strident and loud and have no musical utility.

II
Wind-Instruments of Wood

THE FLUTE

Next in importance to the strings is the wood-wind, which is divided into three families—flutes, oboes, and clarinets. To the first family belong the piccolo and the flute; to the second the oboe, English horn, and bassoon, and to the third the clarinet and bass clarinet. In the modern orchestra, flutes, clarinets, oboes, and bassoons are usually employed in pairs, while there is, if needed, one piccolo, one English horn, and one bass clarinet. The flute is the most agile of the wind-instruments, and is employed very freely in the orchestra. Its compass is three octaves upward from the C below the treble clef, but the two uppermost notes are seldom used. The tone is soft and sweet in the medium register, clear and penetrating in the upper, and singularly characteristic in the lower. Rapid passages are readily executed on the flute, but the instrument’s powers of expression are limited, owing partly to its tone-quality and partly to the impossibility of giving a wide crescendo or diminuendo to any passage played upon it.

Nevertheless, it can be employed expressively when used with judgment. Berlioz calls attention to Gluck’s use of it in his “Orfeo” in the scene in the Elysian fields, where it voices the humility and resignation of the bereaved husband. In the upper register rapid sequences for the flute have an air of gayety. Well-known passages which illustrate this are that near the close of the “Leonora” overture No. 3, and that near the close of the finale of the “Eroica” symphony. The piccolo, or octave-flute, is simply a small, shrill-voiced flute, sounding an octave higher than the ordinary instrument. The sounds in its second octave are well adapted to pieces of a joyous character, while its upper register is useful for violent effects, such as a storm or a scene in the infernal regions. In grotesque and supernatural scenes it is also often employed with good results.

THE OBOE

The oboe is a reed instrument with a peculiar pastoral tone, which, when once recognized, can never again be mistaken for that of another instrument. It is not possible to describe this tone, beyond saying that the average hearer thinks of it as the tone of a shepherd’s pipe. The instrument is so well suited to pastoral music that the principal melody is almost always given to it in passages having such a character. Rapid passages, except in rare instances, are not suited to the utterance of the oboe, though when it joins with the whole mass of instruments in a tutti, anything that is not impossible may be written for it. But it is essentially a lyric instrument of tender expression, and it is seldom called upon for either gayety or tragedy. Berlioz says: “Candor, artless grace, soft joy, or the grief of a fragile being, suits the oboe’s accents. It expresses them admirably in its cantabile.” An excellent example of the oboe’s quality as a tender lyric singer is the opening of the slow movement of Schubert’s symphony in C:

[[audio/mpeg]]

Its pastoral character is illustrated by hundreds of familiar passages. Perhaps none is more familiar than this from the first scene of Gounod’s “Faust.”

[[audio/mpeg]]

To the oboe belongs the duty of sounding the A to which the whole orchestra tunes. This privilege dates from the time of Handel, when it was the principal wind-instrument employed in the band.

THE ENGLISH HORN

The English horn is not, as its name seems to imply, an instrument of brass, but of wood. It is, in fact, an alto oboe. Its compass is from the E below the treble clef to the F on the fifth line. This carries it five tones below the oboe. Its tone is similar to that of the oboe, but is heavier and has a dryer quality. Its character is less feminine, more sombre, and more pathetic. Yet it is not incapable of joyous expression, if the expression is not strained by the context. In all the range of music there are no such examples of the eloquence of the English horn as in the works of Wagner, who made it speak with a human voice. The finest instances of its powers are to be found in his later dramas, and perhaps the most familiar are in “Tristan und Isolde.” The English horn is the instrument which imitates the shepherd’s pipe in the melancholy wail of Act III., played while Tristan is waiting for news of the ship.

[[audio/mpeg]]

When the ship is sighted by the herdsman, his pipe (still the English horn) bursts into this pæan of joy:

[[audio/mpeg]]

THE BASSOON

The bassoon is the bass of the oboe, and it occupies among the wood-wind instruments a position similar to that of the ’cello among the strings. Its upper tones resemble somewhat those of the English horn, while its lower tones are deep and hoarse. Its extreme compass is from the B flat below the bass clef to the F at the top of the treble, but the last four notes are uncertain and of unnatural quality. Music for the bassoon, like that for the ’cello, is written on three clefs—bass, tenor, and treble. Bassoons are employed in pairs in the orchestra. They are used either to fill out the harmonies, to strengthen the bass, or as solo instruments.

The bassoon is capable of a great variety of effects. Its upper register has a pastoral quality, combined with a certain plaintiveness, which makes it suitable to the utterance of gentle grief or melancholy. Composers have frequently availed themselves of the humorous effects to be obtained by making the bassoon play music which ill comports with the quality of its tone. The effect is really funny, though the fun arises, not from the inherent humor of the instrument, but from the incongruity of the singer and the song. The most familiar example of this kind of fun is in the clown’s march in Mendelssohn’s “Midsummer Night’s Dream” music:

[[audio/mpeg]]

There is also a contra-bass bassoon, which sounds an octave lower than the ordinary bassoon. The reader will find that in orchestra scores the bassoons are usually designated by their Italian title, fagotti. This name is applied to the instrument because it resembles two sticks bound together, as in a bundle of fagots.

THE CLARINET

The clarinet is a wind-instrument of wood with a very mellow and beautiful tone. It differs from the oboe chiefly in the construction of its mouth-piece, which contains the sound-producing mechanism. The instruments of the oboe family have mouth-pieces with two vibrating reeds; those of the clarinet family have only one reed. This accounts chiefly for the difference in the character of the tone. The compass of the clarinet is from the E below the treble clef three octaves and a half upward. The notes of the uppermost octave are shrill and are seldom used. They are employed occasionally when a screaming effect is desired. Clarinets are used in pairs in the orchestra, sometimes to fill out harmonies, and frequently for solo effects. There is hardly anything which cannot be done with a clarinet, for the instrument is capable of great agility and brilliancy, and at the same time is the most expressive of all the wind-instruments. It can be played pianissimo or fortissimo through most of its compass, and the most beautiful crescendo and diminuendo effects can be obtained. There is no more familiar example of the high expressiveness of the clarinet than that found in the overture to “Tannhäuser,” where the clarinet intones the pleading passage afterward sung in the first scene by Venus:

[[audio/mpeg]]

The reader will find that in scores the clarinet part is usually written in some other key than that of the composition. This is because three kinds of clarinet are employed, clarinets in A, B flat, and C. A clarinet in B flat means one whose pitch is a whole tone below the standard, so that when one plays the scale of C natural on it he gets the sounds of the scale of B flat, just as he would from a piano tuned a whole tone too low. A clarinet in A is a tone and a half below pitch in the scale of C. One in C produces the scale of C when played in C. The reason for using different kinds of clarinets is that it is difficult to play the instrument in remote keys. By using an A clarinet for keys having sharps and a B flat clarinet for keys having flats, much of the difficulty is obviated. A clarinet in A is producing the sounds of the key of three sharps when it is playing in C. To get the sounds of the key of six sharps, it is necessary only to write for the A clarinet in three sharps. Similarly, to get the sounds of the key of five flats one needs only to write in three flats for a clarinet in B flat. The kind of clarinet to be used is designated in the score. Instruments treated in this manner are called transposing instruments. ([See Chapter V].)

THE BASS CLARINET

The bass clarinet is a clarinet whose compass extends an octave below that of the B flat clarinet. It is a long instrument with a curved bell at the lower end, so that it looks like an old-fashioned Dutch pipe. Bass clarinets in B flat and A are employed, and the music is usually written on the treble clef, thus transposing an octave below. Wagner uses the bass clef, which is more convenient for the student of his scores than for the performer. The tone of the lower register of the bass clarinet is sonorous and rich, and affords a fine bass for wood-wind passages.

As a solo instrument the bass clarinet is admirable in its dignity. The instrument is used singly, not in pairs. As a fine example of the effect of the bass clarinet, the music of Elizabeth’s final exit in Act III. of “Tannhäuser” may be commended.

[[audio/mpeg]]

III
Wind-Instruments of Brass

THE HORN

The brass choir is composed of horns, trumpets, and trombones, with the addition in most modern scores of a contra-bass tuba. Wagner has used also bass trumpets and tenor tubas to enrich the color of this part of his orchestra. The horn, or French horn, as it is often called, is the old hunting horn adapted to orchestral purposes. It is an extremely valuable instrument, because it has a most noble and expressive tone, which makes it very interesting as a solo voice, and equally because it blends admirably with either strings or wood, as well as with brass. In the older compositions the reader will find that two horns were used, but it is customary with modern composers to employ four, thus making a full four-part harmony possible. Wagner generally doubles his horn parts, requiring eight instruments.

It was impossible in earlier times to play in all keys on any one horn, and so horns in various keys had to be used. The reader will find that many scores call for horns in D, in E flat, in B flat, etc. Players now use almost exclusively the horn in F, with valves, upon which it is possible to play in all keys. It is customary with many composers, however, to write horn parts in various keys, and the players have to transpose them. As no opera is more familiar than “Faust,” the reader may readily identify the horn as a solo instrument in the first act when Mephistopheles shows Faust the vision of Marguerite.

[[audio/mpeg]]

In Wagner’s “Siegfried” the horn plays all the passages which the young hero is supposed to intone on his hunting horn. The quartet of horns employed in the modern orchestra is frequently heard alone, and the effect of this full harmony of mellow brass is incomparably fine. Such effects are heard in the hunting fanfare which precedes the entrance of the Landgrave and his party in Act I. of “Tannhäuser,” and in the echoing through the woods of the departing hunt in the beginning of Act II. of “Tristan und Isolde.” It must not be supposed, however, that horn quartets are used only for hunting effects. One has only to recall the beautiful passage in Saint-Säen’s “Phäeton.”

[[audio/mpeg]]

Stopped tones are frequently given to the horns. These are produced by inserting the hand in the bell of the instrument, where it has an effect not unlike that of a sordine on a violin-string. The quality of stopped tones is nasal and stertorous. They are used with much significance in dramatic music.

THE TRUMPET

This fine instrument, the soprano of the brass choir, is too often replaced by the cornet. Indeed, in the United States I have heard trumpets only in the Boston Symphony Orchestra and Walter Damrosch’s orchestra. The trumpet has a full, round, brilliant tone, for which that of the blatant and brassy cornet is not a good substitute. But it is much easier to get good cornet-players than good trumpeters, so the cornet is quite common. The pealing, militant character of the trumpet is always associated in the mind with that of the army bugle, which it closely resembles. The trumpets are usually employed in chords written for the brass, or in the big mass effects of the orchestra. They are seldom called upon to intone a melody except in passages in which the brass plays alone, or when a very brilliant and forcible orchestration is used. The instrument is so familiar that no illustration is necessary. Trumpets in various keys were formerly always employed, but it is now customary to use chiefly the F trumpet, with valves. Cornets employed in the orchestra are in A and B flat. There is a high cornet in E flat, but it is used only in military bands. Stopped tones are easily produced from the cornet or trumpet, and are often used for comic effects. They sound much like the voice of a person singing in a falsetto voice through his nose. Trumpets and cornets are generally used in pairs in the orchestra.

THE TROMBONE

The trombone is one of the noblest of all orchestral instruments. When it sounds ignoble, it is either because its part is not well written or because it is badly played. In respect of register there are three principal kinds of trombones—alto, tenor, and bass. The alto has a compass extending from A at the bottom of the bass clef to the E flat in the top space of the treble clef. The tenor ranges from E below the bass clef to the B flat in the middle of the treble clef, and this is the instrument most frequently employed. The bass trombone’s register runs from B below the bass to the F in the first space of the treble clef. The alto trombone is in E flat, the tenor in B flat, and the bass in F. There is also a contra-bass trombone in B flat, sounding an octave lower than the tenor trombone. It is very fatiguing to play, and is usually replaced by the tuba, whose tone is of a considerably different character. Although all these trombones stand in keys other than C, they are not treated as transposing, but are written in the key of the composition.

The tone of the trombone is grave and majestic, but it may be made to rage hoarsely. In all solemn or broadly dignified music trombones play a conspicuous part. It is customary to write in three parts for these instruments, but when necessary they may be made to play in unison, as in the proclamation of the pilgrims’ chorus in the overture to “Tannhäuser,” or the curse motive in various parts of the Nibelung series. A fine example of the employment of trombones in several parts is to be found in the first act of “Die Walküre” on the first appearance of the “Walhalla” motive.

[[audio/mpeg]]

THE TUBA

The tuba is a deep-toned brass instrument of double-bass quality. It is, in fact, the double-bass of the brass choir. Its quality of tone is noble and blends well with that of trombones. The instrument usually employed in the modern orchestra is the bass tuba in B flat. Wagner employs tenor tubas in the funeral march of the “Götterdämmerung” in order to get a generally consistent sombre color in the brass. He uses in other places both bass and contra-bass tubas, but his writing for these instruments cannot be regarded as invariably felicitous.

The tuba is really a member of the large family of Saxhorns, of which there are six principal types, all in E flat or B flat. These are the sopranino, or piccolo Saxhorn in E flat (A below treble to B flat above), soprano Saxhorn in B flat (German flügelhorn—E below treble to B flat above), alto in E flat (bass A to E flat in fourth space of treble), tenor in B flat (E below bass to B flat treble), bass in B flat, called in Germany bass tuba, and in England euphonium (B flat below bass to F above it), bass in E flat (same compass less one upper note), and contra-bass in B flat (E flat an octave below the bass to F on the third line). These instruments belong primarily to the military band, but an orchestral composer may employ any of them that suit his purpose.

In some older scores the music-lover will find instead of the tuba the ophicleide, which is the bass of the keyed bugle family. Its coarse and blatant tone is happily replaced by that of the tuba.

IV
Other Instruments

THE TYMPANI

The tympani, or kettle-drums, belong to the department of instruments of percussion. They are the only drums which can be tuned to sound certain notes. The other instruments of percussion need not be described until the department is discussed as a whole. The older composers employed only two kettle-drums. The modern writers often use three and sometimes four. There are low and high kettle-drums. The low drum can be tuned to any note from F below the bass clef to C in the second space, and the high drum from B flat on the second line to F on the fourth. The early composers used kettle-drums almost invariably with the trumpets, and found no better employment for them than the accentuation of rhythm and changes of harmony. Beethoven, who was one of the keenest of all composers in his appreciation of the individuality of instruments, saw that the kettle-drums could be used for special effects.

The early composers always tuned them to the tonic key and its dominant. Beethoven, in the scherzo of the Ninth Symphony, tuned them in octaves and produced a striking effect. Again in the slow movement of the same symphony he made the two drums play simultaneously on two notes of a chord. This also was novel. In the andante of his First Symphony he had already made the tympani play the bass to a melody of violins and flutes, and in the Fourth Symphony the tympani take their turn with the other instruments in playing the theme of two notes often repeated. The solo effects of the tympani in the scherzo of the Fifth Symphony and in the opening of the violin concerto are well known. Beethoven thus paved the way for subsequent composers to make a wide and varied use not only of the tympani but of other percussive instruments.

Other instruments of percussion employed in the orchestra are the military snare drum, bass drum, cymbals, triangle, tambourine, castanets, the carillon (a set of steel bars which produce sounds like those of small bells), the xylophone, large bells (or heavy steel tubes to imitate them), and the gong.

THE HARP

The reader will look in vain for the harp in the older symphonic scores. It was in its early employment wholly an instrument of the theatre. Although it found its way into the orchestra early, it was not employed as a genuine orchestral instrument. Up to the beginning of the present century, as Gevaert has clearly pointed out, composers used it for the sake of its historical character. Thus Handel introduced it in the first version of his “Esther” (1720), Gluck in his “Orfeo” (1762), and Beethoven in his “Prometheus” ballet (1799). In Gluck’s “Orfeo,” for example, the harp is heard only when Orpheus is supposed to play on the instrument carried by him. In this same manner Wagner employs the harp in “Tannhäuser.” It was employed in a similar manner in the early part of the present century by composers for the theatre, chiefly in France. Biblical and classical subjects, in which the harps of the daughters of Israel or the lyres of Greece and Rome might be heard, naturally suggested the use of the harp, and thus it was employed by Méhul in his “Joseph” (1809), Spontini in “La Vestale” (1807), and Rossini in “Moïse” (1827). Again, scenes in Scotland or Ireland required the local color of the gleeman’s harp, and for this purpose it was employed by Méhul in his “Uthal” (1803), Lesueur in “Les Bardes” (1807), and Catel in “Wallace” (1817).

The perfection of the pedal mechanism by Sebastian Erard in 1810 led to a much wider use of the harp. Meyerbeer and Wagner began to use it extensively in their operas, and Berlioz introduced it into symphonic music of the romantic school.

The harp is provided with seven pedals, operated by the player’s feet. By means of these pedals the tension of the strings can be instantly altered, thus changing the pitch of the scale, or, in other words, putting the harp into another key. It is this mechanism which enables the harpist of to-day to play in all keys, while in earlier times only a few were practicable.

The reader of orchestra scores will find that harp parts are written on two staves, like piano music, and placed in the score just above the parts of the string quintet. The harp is a non-transposing instrument and its music is written as it sounds. Sometimes, however, in remote keys composers remove some of a harp-player’s difficulties by changing the key signature. For instance, certain kinds of passages, if written in the key of B natural, are very difficult for the harp, whereas if written in C flat (which sounds precisely the same) they become easy. This is because the Erard system of tuning makes C flat the fundamental key of the harp.

The instrument is much used in our day in orchestral music, as well as in the opera. Its treatment is usually either in broad chords, as in the air “Roi du ciel” in Meyerbeer’s “Le Prophète,” or in running arpeggios, as in “Anges purs et radieux” in “Faust.” Glissando effects—smooth-running passages produced by sliding the hands rapidly over the strings without stopping to pluck them—are often used in modern music, as in the orchestral arrangements of Liszt’s Hungarian rhapsodies. Harmonics can be produced on the harp. They sound like the faint tinkle of a muffled glass bell, and are very pretty when properly applied. A familiar example is to be found in the waltz of the sylphs in the ballet music of Berlioz’s “Damnation of Faust.”

Wagner has used the harp very freely in his music dramas. Sometimes he employs it historically, sometimes for the sake of its luxuriant tone in the accompaniment of lyric song, and again with a remarkable insight into its power of combination with other instruments in descriptive music. In this latter manner it is superbly used in the magic fire-music of “Die Walküre:”

[[audio/mpeg]]

V
The Orchestral Score

The printed form of an orchestral composition, or one for voices and orchestra, is called a score. (German, Partitur.) In it are comprised the parts to be played by all the instruments. It is read across the page precisely as a piece of piano music is, with the important difference that while in a piano piece there are only two staves—one for the treble and one for the bass—in an orchestral score there are from sixteen to twenty-four, according to the number of the parts. The name of the instrument is printed at the beginning of its part and also the key in which it stands, if it is a transposing instrument. The customary order of the instruments from top to bottom of the page is as follows: Flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons, horns, trumpets, trombones, tuba, tympani, and other instruments of percussion, harps, violins, violas, ’cellos, and double-basses. This order is sometimes changed for the sake of convenience. If there are voices, as in an opera or oratorio, they will be found in the older scores between the viola and ’cello parts. The more modern custom is to put them above the first violins, so that the parts of the string choir are not separated. In a concerto the solo instrument is similarly placed. The names of the instruments of the score are usually given in Italian, but sometimes in German. The following list gives the names of the instruments in English, Italian, German, and French, with the plurals where needed:

[[audio/mpeg]]

In German scores the Italian names are often used. Sometimes each instrument has a separate staff, but more frequently a pair of instruments, as two flutes, or two oboes, is written on one staff. In such cases the tails of the notes for the upper instrument are turned up and of those for the lower down. If there are two sets of tails, one up and one down, to one set of notes, it indicates that two instruments are to play the same passage. In the case of four horns, two staves are used, the upper for the first and second and the lower for the third and fourth. In old scores the reader will find many different orders of placing the instruments on the page. That which I have given is the present method.

The reader will find many directions and abbreviations in scores not used in piano music. The meaning of any of these can be ascertained by consulting a dictionary of music. One or two may be explained here. The word “divisi” written over a part in double notes (or more) means that one instrument is to play the upper line and another the lower. First violins are thus sometimes subdivided, and so are other stringed instruments. The words “A due” are used as a direction for all to play together again. The letters A, B, C, etc., often seen at the tops and bottoms of pages, are for the convenience of conductors in rehearsing.

“If you please, gentlemen, let us go back to four bars before the letter G,” or something of that kind, is a familiar remark at orchestra rehearsals.

The reader will find that in many scores space is saved by omitting from some pages the staves of those instruments which have nothing on those pages. Usually when this is done the names of the instruments which are playing are indicated by abbreviations placed just above the staves, as “Fl., Cl., Fg.,” etc. The full names of the instruments employed in any movement are given only at the beginning, and the reader of scores should note how many staves are employed. Sometimes the flutes are written on two staves, sometimes on one. The same is true of the other wind-instruments. Usually the wood-choir staves are bound together by a continuous double bar at the beginning of each page, and sometimes the horns have one double bar. The score-reader will soon become familiar with the various arrangements. One who loves orchestral music and wishes to understand how its effects are produced should study scores. Study your score first at home and try to imagine how it ought to sound. Then follow the performance with it and note what combinations of instruments produce particular effects. After a time you will find that your understanding of the orchestra has greatly increased, and you will get new enjoyment from the performance of symphonies and overtures.

Copyright by the London Stereoscopic Co.

ARTHUR NIKISCH.

The conventional seating-plan of the orchestra will help the reader to familiarize himself with the instruments. In concerts the stringed instruments are always placed at the front of the stage, with the wind-instruments behind them, in order that the tone of the strings may come out fully and without obstruction. The first violins are always on the left of the audience, and second violins on the right. Violas are usually placed immediately behind the second violins, though some conductors put them behind the first. The ’cellos are arranged usually on the side opposite the violas, and double-basses are placed at the sides or the back, according to the conductor’s idea. The wood occupies the middle of the stage, and the brass and instruments of percussion are at the rear. The diagram on the next page shows the seating plan of the Boston Symphony Orchestra.

Seating Plan of the Boston Symphony Orchestra.

Amateurs will find that they must extend their musical knowledge a little, if they desire to read orchestra scores. Persons who have studied only piano playing are nonplussed when they find themselves in the presence of transposing instruments and other clefs than those known as the treble and the bass. I have already briefly explained the peculiarity of what are called transposing instruments, but it will be well to give the reader some further help in dealing with them in reading scores. A question which I have frequently heard is, “Why don’t they make all instruments in C?” The answer to this question is that there could only be one reason for doing so, namely, to make it easy for amateurs to read scores. There are many more substantial reasons for making instruments in various keys. For instance, brass instruments produce most easily and with the finest tone and richest sonority their natural notes—those notes which are produced without any aid from valves or pistons as the notes of a cavalry bugle. If a composer in writing a brilliant march in B natural, a bright and incisive key for the strings, wishes to introduce trumpets, he can make most effective use of those in B natural. But it is not possible always to have clarinets, trumpets, and horns in every key ready for instant use, so custom and experience have induced musicians to make a judicious selection. Clarinets in A and B flat are now used far more than those in C. As Gevaert says: “The choice among the three clarinets is not always made from the simple consideration of facility; often it is guided by the character of the tone peculiar to each. The clarinet in C has a timbre brilliant almost to rudeness.” He further notes that it is therefore used by the classic composers mostly in brilliant movements in the simple diatonic scales. The clarinet in B flat or that in A may be chosen for reasons of a like nature. The reader, however, will probably be more interested in knowing how he is to read clarinet parts. If they are in C, he will have no trouble, because there will be no transposition. A clarinet in B flat playing music written in C, sounds one tone lower than that scale. Hence the key of C is used for a clarinet in B flat only when the violins are playing in B flat.

In other words, every sound which issues from a B flat clarinet is one whole tone lower than that written in the score. If you write C, the instrument sounds B flat. If you wish the instrument to sound C, you must write D. If you wish it to sound F sharp, you must write G sharp. If you wish it to sound E natural, you must write F sharp or G flat.

The composer has the choice of two methods of writing his clarinet part. He may write always without any key signature and mark all flats and sharps as accidentals, or he may use a key signature. Custom has sanctioned the latter method, which is the more rational. I have just said that every tone which issues from a B flat clarinet is a whole interval below the written character. Therefore, all music for a B flat clarinet must be written one interval higher than it is intended to sound, and this, the reader will see, simply results in transposing a B flat clarinet part into a key one tone higher than that of the composition. For a composition in C write for B flat clarinets in the key of D. For one in D write for B flat clarinets in E. For one in E flat write for B flat clarinets in F. There is another simple way of looking at this matter. Clarinets in B flat have already two flats in their open scale. If you want them to play in C, you must contradict these two flats by two sharps, and two sharps are the signature of the key of D. Hence, write in D for B flat clarinets to play in C. In reading a score all that the amateur needs to do is to remember that every note written for the B flat clarinet sounds one tone lower than written. Thus the chord of C for two flutes, two oboes, and two clarinets might be written as at A so as to sound as at B.

[[audio/mpeg]]

In the case of clarinets in A the same principles apply. The clarinet in A sounds A when C is written, and it sounds the entire scale of A when the scale of C is written. As C is one tone and a half above A, it follows that notes for the A clarinet are always written a tone and a half higher than the sounds to be produced, and the score-reader must conceive the A clarinet parts as sounding that much lower than they are written. Thus, to get C out of an A clarinet, you must write E flat, and to make an A clarinet play in unison with flutes in the key of C, you must write in E flat for the clarinet. The chord just written would have to be rewritten thus:

[[audio/mpeg]]

One of the peculiarities of orchestra scores is that music for horns and trumpets is always written without any key signature—that is, just as if it were in C major—and all the sharps and flats are put in as accidentals. This makes difficult reading at times for an amateur. In order to aid the music-lover I give herewith the written notes and the corresponding real sounds of the horn in F, which is the most frequently used. The same table will answer for the trumpet in F.

[[audio/mpeg]]

The rules of transposition given above apply to all music for transposing instruments. A tuba in E flat, for instance, is one which sounds E flat when the composer writes C. Persons accustomed to sight-reading with a “movable Do” have very little trouble in the study of orchestra scores, and I earnestly advise all who wish to read scores to study sight-reading.

Next comes the matter of clefs. As I have stated, it is customary to write the viola part on the alto clef. When a bassoon or a ’cello runs up so high that it is inconvenient to employ the bass clef, the tenor clef is used, and if it goes still higher, the treble clef may be introduced. These various clefs are troublesome to the amateur because he is familiar only with the treble and bass clefs. The treble clef is known also as the G clef; because the character

is placed upon the second line to indicate that the treble G is there located. A clef sign simply fixes the place of some note, and the others are located accordingly. The bass clef is also called the F clef, because the character

is placed so as to indicate that F is on the fourth line. Now in the alto and tenor clefs the character

is used, and its purpose is to locate the note C. In the alto clef it is on the third line, where B is in the treble clef. In the tenor clef it is on the fourth line, where D is in the treble clef. The question which will arise in the amateur’s mind is this: Which C is it that is thus located? The answer is simple and easily remembered. It is best expressed by the following illustration:

[[audio/mpeg]]

Here are two scales, one alto and one tenor, with the real sounds.

[[audio/mpeg]]

[[audio/mpeg]]

It will be seen from these illustrations that the C located by the clef sign in the alto on the third line and the tenor clef on the fourth line is the one situated on the first leger line below the staff in the treble clef. Having this fact in mind, the lover of orchestral music can learn, with a little practice, to read viola parts and ’cello or bassoon passages which run up into the tenor clef. The following illustration shows a ’cello passage with the middle measure written on the tenor clef, and also the same passage written wholly on the bass clef:

[[audio/mpeg]]

In some scores the music-lover will find the three trombone parts written on three clefs, alto, tenor, and bass, while in others they are written on the bass clef only. I have already noted that bass clarinet parts are written sometimes on the treble and sometimes on the bass clef. The former is always used by French composers, and the latter nearly always by Germans.

PART II

How the Orchestra is Used

VI
General Principles

The orchestra is an instrument, and composers have developed methods of writing for it. The fundamental principles of these methods constitute that branch of musical art called orchestration. It is not the purpose of the present volume to teach that branch; but it is entirely within its province to point out to the reader how composers make use of their majestic and many-voiced instrument. In compass and power alone it surpasses all other instruments. The compass of the modern orchestra is enormous. It extends from grave, low sounds to those of such acute pitch that the ear does not relish them if uttered loudly. The extreme normal compass is shown by the following illustration:

[[audio/mpeg]]

Mr. Corder, in his “Modern Orchestra and How to Write for It,” gives this interesting dynamic scale: “Suppose the degrees of sound-intensity to range from 1 (in ppp) to 12 (in fff); then one might say roughly that

I should modify this by shifting the pianissimo of low clarinet tones back to 2, that of drums forward to 2, and that of trumpets and trombones to 4.

Now, if there were nothing else to be considered, a composer would have to work according to some system in using the compass and force of his orchestra. What is known in regard to the method of doing so is the result of many long years of experiment by the early writers. In a general way, I may say that composers in writing a passage for the entire orchestra can give the melody to all the soprano instruments, the alto to all that have an alto compass, the tenor to all the tenors, and the bass to all the basses. For example—flutes, clarinets, oboes, and violins may utter a melody in unison, while the remaining instruments supply the accompaniment. But it is rare that a composer writes in only four parts for orchestra. He usually spreads his chords out to six or eight parts, thus gaining in richness and sonority of tone.

But compass and power are not all the composer must consider. He has at his command a great variety of tonal qualities. We have already seen how the characteristics of certain instruments, singing as solo voices, are peculiarly suited to the embodiment of special kinds of music. Now the writer for orchestra must study the result of every possible combination of all or any of the instruments to the end that he may produce just the desired tone, and that he may never produce anything different from that which he wishes. The tonal tints of a modern orchestra are the richest pigments of the musician’s palette, and he must know how to use them either singly or combined, just as the painter knows how to use his colors. The simplest way in which I can point out the peculiarities of the composer’s work is by discussing separately the uses of the different choirs.

The principal requirements of good orchestration are solidity, balance of tone, contrast, and variety. Solidity is obtained by a proper dispersal of the harmony, so that certain notes in the chords do not stand out too prominently at the expense of others. The composer must not only be a master of harmony, but he must have the true harmonic feeling. He must have that almost instinctive grasp of the proportions of chords which can come only from real musical gifts cultivated by long familiarity with modern music. This feeling is not necessarily accompanied by restlessness and complexity of harmony. The harmonic effect of a simple diatonic Bach chorale is infinitely grander than the most intricate chromatic convolutions of a Charbrier overture. The true harmonic feeling is one that always produces artistic proportions, and these will permeate the instrumentation and produce solidity, provided the composer has sufficient intimacy with the instruments to prevent him from giving them the wrong notes. The foundation of solidity in orchestration is good writing for the strings. Their part of the score must always be planned with complete harmonic skill, not only because they are the main prop of the whole instrumental body, but because the man who cannot write well for strings will inevitably fail in handling wood and brass.

Solidity in tutti passages merges itself in balance of tone. This depends also upon a proper dispersal of the harmony and on a knowledge of the relative power of the instruments of the three choirs. For instance, it is not possible to play wood as softly as strings. Consequently, in a pianissimo the composer must know just what wood instruments to use and what parts of the chord to give them, lest he overbalance his strings. Solidity requires great skill in writing the middle voices. If they are too strong, the orchestration is muddy; if they are too weak, it is thin, and the orchestra, as the saying goes, is “all top and bottom.”

Contrast is necessary in order that monotony of color may be avoided. It is obtained by using the three choirs of the orchestra separately, by employing any subdivision of each, or using simultaneously subdivisions of two, and so on. Variety is produced by mixing the tints. For example, a passage played by a flute alone changes color when an oboe sings in unison with the flute. Another tint results when a clarinet is added. It is not necessary to pursue this topic further than to say that the composer must know what tints will mix well to produce a new one.

VII
The Strings

Since the foundation of good orchestration is skilful writing for the strings, it is natural to consider that department first. The strings, as we shall see, came to their proper place in the orchestra in the works of the operatic composers. In Cavalli’s “Giasone” (1649) we find vocal parts accompanied in something like the Handelian style by two violins and a bass. About twenty-five years later we find the string quartet, two violins, viola, and bass, established by Alessandro Scarlatti, founder of the Neapolitan school of opera. Since that time the strings have been the foundation of the orchestra, and although methods of writing for them have greatly changed, the fundamental principles remain the same.

The general disposition of the strings may be fairly expressed by the formula already given, but worth repeating here: First violins equal sopranos, second violins equal altos, violas equal tenors, ’cellos equal barytones, and double-basses equal basses. In certain circumstances this disposition is altered, because the compass of violas makes it possible for them to sing soprano music, though with a distinctly individual tone, while the ’cello can cover the ordinary range of an entire quartet. The individuality of tone possessed by the various stringed instruments is tolerably well known, except in the case of the viola. It is to its beautiful quality of tone that it owes its chief value. Gloomy, sombre, and even foreboding in the lower register, in its upper range it becomes mellow, tender, pathetic, and inexpressibly winning. No wonder that Berlioz selected it for the voice of the melancholy Childe Harold, or that Brahms made it play such important parts in his quartets. Its dramatic power is now universally recognized by composers, and from the position of a misunderstood and ignored member of the string quintet, it is rapidly advancing to the equally undesirable condition of being severely overworked.

It is a curious fact, however, that many of the younger composers show a singular want of skill in using the viola, and it is this which often upsets the balance of their orchestration. Perhaps this is due in some measure to the Brahms cult. Brahms’s orchestration is not a good model. His middle parts are almost always written too low or too heavily, and hence his instrumentation is muddy. It depends upon what a man is writing. If he is writing a symphony in the classic style, let him follow as closely as possible the methods of Beethoven. If he wishes to be more modern—and it is natural that he should—let him study Dvorák, whose instrumentation is almost perfect. Tschaikowsky’s is, too, but the reader should remember that most of his works are sombre in thought, and that hence the instrumental style will not be suitable to light themes. Liszt and Rubinstein are good models. For thick, luscious coloring there is nothing better than Rubinstein’s “Antony and Cleopatra” overture, and I can recommend also a careful study of Goldmark’s overtures. Wagner, of course, is full of instruction, but a composer must know a good deal before he can discriminate sufficiently to get any benefit from Wagner. But to return to the viola.

The placing of the viola part is of the greatest importance in the color of the strings. For instance, in the slow movement of the famous piano concerto in E flat, called the “Emperor,” Beethoven mutes his violins, but not his violas, and writes the basses pizzicati, thus:

[[audio/mpeg]]

The individuality and penetrating quality of the viola tone brings it out with marked effect in this passage, and Beethoven knew that so well that in the third measure he kept his second violins down and gave the violas the real alto part, because the harmonic significance of the passage rested so largely upon the F sharp, E sharp, E, and D sharp. If the second violin and viola parts in that passage were exchanged, the effect would be altogether different.

The increase of skill in the treatment of viola and ’cello parts, but chiefly of the former, is coincident with the development of the science of orchestration. Indeed, it may fairly be said that first-rate writing for the strings, which is the foundation of orchestration, depends largely upon the treatment of the viola part. Any composer knows enough when writing for strings to give his melody to the first violins and his bass to the basses. But the character of his harmony is to be determined by his middle voices, and it is in the treatment of these that we see growth in skill. Berlioz, in his treatise on instrumentation, says of the viola: “It has, nevertheless, been long neglected, or put to a use as unimportant as ineffectual—that of merely doubling, in octave, the upper part of the bass. There are many causes that have operated to induce the unjust servitude of this noble instrument. In the first place, the majority of the composers of the last century, rarely writing in four real parts, scarcely knew what to do with it; and when they did not readily find some filling-up notes in the chords for it to do, they hastily wrote the fatal ‘col basso’—sometimes with so much inattention that it produced a doubling in the octave of the basses, irreconcilable either with the harmony or the melody or with both one and the other. Moreover, it was unfortunately impossible at that time to write anything for the violas of a prominent character, requiring even ordinary skill in execution. Viola-players were always taken from among the refuse of violinists. When a musician found himself incapable of creditably filling the place of violinist, he took refuge among the violas.”

Haydn’s symphonic scores show skill coupled with restraint in the viola parts. The instrument is never called upon to play passages of any difficulty except when errors will be covered up in the general body of tone. But in his scores the viola takes its correct place in a pure four-part harmony. It is seldom that Haydn undertakes to give his strings more than four parts to sing, though the reader will perceive that as each instrument is easily capable of producing two notes at a time, eight real parts can be written for a string quartet. The ’cello has few independent passages in Haydn’s symphonies. It usually doubles the bass part. Mozart, without attempting to give the viola or the ’cello difficulties to overcome, made wider use of their special tone-qualities than did Haydn, though it must be admitted that Mozart’s symphonies show a great deal of three-part writing for strings. Gluck, in his operas, brought out the dramatic value of the lower register of the viola, and Spontini, in “La Vestale,” was the first who assigned the melody to it. Méhul, the French opera-writer, used it so much that Grétry exclaimed, “I’d give a guinea to hear a first string.” Beethoven, in the andante of his fifth symphony, gives the melody in the opening bars to the violas and ’cellos in unison, a very rich and beautiful effect.

In general it may be said that the string quintet did not attain the full measure of its usefulness in the hands of the classical writers till the viola and the ’cello had begun to be treated with freedom and independence. Then there was no longer any difficulty in writing a full four-part harmony, upon which depends the solidity of the string portion of the score. The best test of scoring for strings is to consider whether it sounds full and self-sustaining when unsupported by any wind-instruments. The lover of orchestral music should give especial attention to Beethoven’s scores. Here he will find the perfection of the classical style of writing, which employed almost exclusively a four-part scheme and kept each instrument in its normal place except when used as a solo voice. With the romantic movement scoring for strings began its search after unusual tone-tints, and composers began to learn that they could obtain these in two or three ways—by increasing the number of voices in their harmony, by taking advantage of the large registers of violas and ’cellos and sometimes carrying them above the violins, and by employing solo instruments among the orchestral mass. The beautiful effect of divided string parts in a simple form is heard in the opening measures of Mendelssohn’s “Midsummer Night’s Dream” overture, but if the reader desires to find the extreme modern style of writing for numerous voices in the strings he must go to Wagner. He, indeed, is guilty of occasional abuses of the practice. In the accompaniment to Brangäne’s song of warning in the second act of “Tristan und Isolde” he divides the strings into fifteen parts, but I am quite sure that no human ear can hear all of them. It is seldom that more than eight real parts can be made advantageous, and then chiefly in slow movements.

It all depends upon what the composer wishes to accomplish. If he desires brilliancy in an animated movement, he will use his first violins in unison and above the middle of their register. If he wishes to get more brilliancy, he will write them still higher and double them with the second violins in the octave below. If he writes them in the middle register and doubles them with the second violins, he will get more sonority, but less brilliancy. On the other hand, if he desires richness of harmony coupled with mystery, or ethereal effects, let him divide his strings into several parts. After that it is a mere matter of register. If he writes high, he will get aërial delicacy and tenderness; if he writes low, he will get pathos as well as tenderness. No better examples can be offered than these from “Lohengrin” and “Die Walküre:”

[[audio/mpeg]]

[[audio/mpeg]]

But, after all, these effects are special, and the fundamental principles of sound writing for the strings are best exemplified by the writings of the classical composers. The chief question for the student of music is: Which of the classical writers is the best model? This is a question not easily answered. Haydn’s earlier works are not at all to be commended, while his later compositions are full of sound scoring. His quartets are not excelled as examples of clear, well-balanced writing for strings, but his symphonies do not reveal fully the value of the viola.

Specific instrumental coloring began with Mozart, and yet he is the finest example of continence and sobriety in orchestration. His string parts are generally substantial and well planned, but, nevertheless, I should hardly advise a beginner to study them. The older composers are like ancient history; one must have sufficient information to know what to accept and what to reject in order to read them with advantage. It will not profit any beginner in instrumentation to go farther back than Beethoven. The great symphonist’s string plan is always notable for its breadth, solidity, and flexibility, and there is nothing in the fundamental work of string writing which cannot be learned from him. But there is another composer whose works are neglected by professors and masters, and yet whose orchestration excels all other in the classic school in buoyancy, clarity, suavity, and polish, and to the constant study of his scores I heartily commend all who desire to master the basis of modern instrumentation. I mean Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. His “Midsummer Night’s Dream” is in itself an epitome of the science of instrumentation, and students and amateurs would do well to give many days and nights to its study.

I advise the student of orchestral effects to examine particularly the overture. For lightness and transparency nothing in the way of writing for the strings excels the opening measures for first and second violins in four parts, with the addition at bar 24 of a most effective pizzicato passage for viola. On page 5 (Litolff score) the first violins, doubled an octave below by the second, carry the melody against a tutti in which the string plan is notable for its simplicity and solidity. On page 9 there is a model passage for strings with violas divided, which is worthy of attention. A concert-goer should seek out such passages in scores and mark them. Then at a performance of the work note the effect. By following out such a plan the music-lover will soon come to perceive the differences between the conservative scoring of the early classical writers and the venturesome and brilliant achievements of the moderns. From such a clear and simple plan of dividing strings as that of Mendelssohn in the overture quoted grew the amazing contrivances of modern writers, such as the passage in Liszt’s “Mazeppa” for first violins in three parts, the third playing pizzicato against shakes by the other two, second violins in three parts, violas and ’celli in two each; or the thunder-storm in Wagner’s “Das Rheingold,” where the strings play a broken chord in twenty different ways, or the superbly effective passage from Nicode’s “Das Meer,” which is constructed on this scheme of divided strings with contrary motions:

[[audio/mpeg]]

The effect of this remarkable passage is one of the things which go to show what can be done in the way of tone-coloring with strings alone. The vital points for the reader to bear in mind are those which have been brought out as to the distribution of the harmony in the strings and the necessity of writing for them so that they are independent. To follow the development of skill in this among the successive composers is one of the most fascinating branches of musical study.

Note.—The tremolo and pizzicato of bowed instruments were invented by Monteverde (1568-1643). The striking of chords on such instruments was introduced into orchestral music by Haydn. Mutes were first used in the orchestra by Gluck in his “Armide.” The oldest and most familiar example of the contrast between muted and unmuted strings is found in the “Creation” at the words, “And God said ‘Let there be light.’” The mutes are taken off at “And there was light.” The oldest known use of harmonics is that in Philidor’s opera “Tom Jones” (1765). The division of violins into more than two parts was first employed by Weber. Beethoven introduced divided violas in the last movement of the Ninth Symphony.

VIII
The Wood-Wind

Whence originated the custom of calling the collection of wooden wind-instruments used in the modern orchestra “the wood-wind,” I am quite sure I do not know. It is still more common among musicians to speak of them simply as “the wood,” notwithstanding that the stringed instruments played with a bow are also made of wood. It is a convenient term, and its meaning being pretty generally understood, only a purist in language would object to its employment. The “wood,” then, in the modern orchestra consists of flutes, oboes, clarinets, and bassoons. Of these instruments the flute is the oldest, and was the first to be used in those indiscriminate assemblies of instruments corresponding to orchestras in the early days of the art. The flute was used in ancient Egypt, and, for the matter of that, so was the oboe, which found its way into the orchestra at least as far back as Beaujoyeux’s “Ballet Comique de la Reine” (1581). Everyone knows a flute when he sees it, and is acquainted with its tone, but I have learned by experience that very few persons know anything about the other wood instruments.

Yet their importance in the modern orchestra cannot be overestimated. Half the tone-coloring of our symphonic works and operatic scores depends upon skilful combinations of the tone-tints of wooden wind-instruments either with one another or with other members of the band. It is almost wholly in the direction of variety of combination that the art of writing for wood-wind has developed. In the early days, before a system of enriched instrumentation had been developed, it was the custom to treat the wood-wind parts without any design that affected the display of their coloring qualities. Sebastian Bach’s scores, for instance, show a complete absorption of the polyphonic style. He regarded his instruments as so many voices, and he treated them as such. Each part was written in a manner essentially melodious, and related to the other parts strictly in contrapuntal style. The conception of purely orchestral effect did not find birth in the mind of Bach. He was too entirely occupied with the development of the polyphonic subject to discover the possibilities of mixed tone-tints. Furthermore, he was not sufficiently imbued with a feeling for the harmonic style—the style in which a leading melody is supported by a subsidiary accompaniment founded on chords, as in our songs. This is the style on which our symphony rests, but it was foreign to Bach’s genius, which was fundamentally fugal.

Hence, Bach did little toward developing the combining powers of the wood-wind. As one writer has excellently said: “He preferred to employ wind-instruments for the purpose of enlarging his original design, rather than that of strengthening or decorating it. When he added a flute or an oboe to his score, he loved not only to make it obbligato, but to write it in such wise that it should form a new real part. Hence, even in his regularly constructed arias, the voice is scarcely so much accompanied by the various instruments employed as made to sing in concert with them, the score containing as many real parts as there are solo voices or instruments introduced into it.” Dr. Parry, in his “Evolution of the Art of Music,” in speaking of the difference between instrumentation of this kind and that of a later date, says: “In the instrumentation of the great masters of the earlier generation, the tone-qualities seem to be divided from one another by innate repulsion; but in the harmonic style they seem to melt into one another insensibly, and to become part of a composite mass of harmony whose shades are constantly shifting and varying.”

Handel’s wood-wind is employed with greater variety than Bach’s. This was to be expected of a composer who, in the first place, was in closer touch with the public, and hence more likely to recognize and yield to the demand for effects. In the second place, Handel, not being secluded as Bach was, stood more forward in the march of musical evolution. He was an opera-writer, and this brought him into immediate contact with the harmonic style as practised by the Italian opera-writers. He learned from some of them, too, the use of grandiose mass effects. The application of these ideas to his instrumentation produced results far different from any conceived by the introspective and historically solitary genius of the great Bach. Handel used a larger orchestra than Bach, yet did many things in the same way. For example, he often wrote for his instruments in the polyphonic style, but in the accompaniments to his great choruses he wrote for several oboes in unison with the violins and a body of bassoons in unison with the basses. At other times he treated his wood-wind parts as figured ornamentation of the more simple string parts, and again he employed the strings and wind alternately, as modern composers do so frequently. Flutes he rarely used except as solo instruments, as in the “Sweet Bird” aria, and clarinets he did not have. But the idea of using some of the wind-instruments, as horns and trumpets, in pairs, had come into existence in Handel’s time, and it was not long before this plan was applied also to the wood-wind.

Its employment naturally began with the recognition of the inability of the wood-wind to play such intricate passages as strings could, and also of their power to sustain the long notes of supporting chords. These features of wood-wind writing existed even in the scores of Scarlatti and Lulli, but it was not until the harmonic style began to be clearly distinguished from the polyphonic in orchestral works that they became generally recognized. In the scores of Emmanuel Bach, the son of Sebastian, we begin to find wood-wind treated in the pure classic style. The chords, to be sure, are very thin, and the composer shows a “’prentice hand” at the dovetailing of his wind parts together so as to make a firm structure, but the skeleton of the modern form is there.

Haydn’s scoring shows a curious combination of Handelian ideas with later developments. The Handelian plan of strengthening string parts with wind parts in unison seems to have taken some hold of Haydn, for he rarely writes unsupported wood-wind passages in his symphonies. He keeps his first violins singing the melody most of the time, and gets variety by doubling them, now with flutes, now with oboes, again with bassoons. A wind solo is very rare. He shows similar weakness in writing for the wood-wind in its internal relations. His clarinet parts usually double those of the oboes or the flutes. There is a great deal of octave writing, and he seldom gets more than three real parts in his wood-wind. It is only because he so constantly employs the string quartet that his symphonic scores do not sound thin. For example, in a passage for wood-wind and strings near the beginning of the familiar symphony in D, the first flute, except in one chord, doubles the second violin at the octave above, while the second flute supports the principal notes of the melody, played by the first violins, at the octave below. The oboes in unison double the violas at the upper octave. The two clarinets in unison double the first flute an octave below. The bassoons and basses play in unison. Toward the end of the last movement there is a passage in which the wind plays sustained chords, and in this the wood is treated in a more open style of harmony. Haydn learned much from Mozart, however, and in the “Creation” and “Seasons,” his writing for wood-wind shows much greater freedom, and a decidedly more definite attempt to get at the tonal characteristics of the instruments.

HAYDN.

There can be no question that Mozart’s orchestration shows a large improvement on Haydn’s, and it is, perhaps, easier for the amateur to discern this in his treatment of the wood-wind than anywhere else. Passages contrasting the whole wood choir with the strings are more numerous, and the combinations of wood with strings show more definite attempts to put new tints upon the symphonic canvas. One finds, for instance, in the G minor symphony the flute tone contrasted with the oboe, combinations of flute and oboe contrasted with bassoon, combinations of flutes, bassoon, and strings, and other effects which give life and variety to the instrumental coloring.

Nevertheless, a conventional manner of treating the wood-wind found its way into general use, and it prevailed until the romanticists, in reaching out for new forms and manners of expression, revolutionized the system of scoring. The old-fashioned way was to employ the four pairs of wood-wind instruments always in thirds and sixths. The flutes almost always took the melody and the next interval below it. The oboes either doubled the flutes in the octave below, or the first oboe doubled the second flute, and the second oboe took the next lower degree of the chord. The clarinets filled in the middle voices, and the bassoons played the bass, most frequently in octaves. The harmony was close, and the texture of this instrumentation was always solid, and, it must be admitted, at times muddy. This manner of writing is found in all Beethoven’s earlier works. For example, here is the opening of the first symphony, the horns and strings (pizzicati) also appearing in the score:

[[audio/mpeg]]

That is perfectly adapted to its purpose; but the chances are that a composer of to-day would have used three flutes, three clarinets, and three bassoons, and would have thickened the harmony by raising the clarinet voices and bringing the first bassoon up nearer the middle, thus:

[[audio/mpeg]]

Brahms followed Beethoven’s early style of scoring for wood, which, it must always be recollected, lies at the foundation of the art. An example from Brahms’s C minor symphony will show the modern writer’s adoption of his predecessor’s plan:

[[audio/mpeg]]

The modern style of writing for the wood-wind choir introduces more passages in contrary motion and a more dispersed harmony. The close chords of the classicists cannot be excelled for their purpose, but the romanticists had new aims and they took advantage not only of unusual tone-tints but of the increased richness brought about by using more voices and extending their chords. Beethoven’s symphonies show a rapid progress toward the modern flexibility of methods in writing for wood-wind. For instance, note the lovely effect of this piece of contrary motion in the Fifth Symphony:

[[audio/mpeg]]

As we advance through the pages of the master’s symphonies we find a constantly increasing flexibility in the treatment of the wood, until in the Ninth we meet with passages containing effects which, when closely examined, seem to be almost amazingly modern. Of course, one never finds in Beethoven’s scores any attempt to make an effect for its own sake. The master symphonist was altogether too busy in giving his thought expression to think of little tricks of instrumental dress. Because of his continence in this matter some modern commentators have expressed the belief that these symphonies would be improved if re-orchestrated according to contemporaneous methods. I presume that someone will eventually try the experiment, and then it will be discovered that Beethoven’s instrumentation was perfectly adapted to his musical ideas. On the other hand, a good deal of our modern music would stand revealed in its naked thinness if it were re-orchestrated in the austere style of Beethoven or with the sunny simplicity of the Mozartian manner. The extreme development of wood-wind writing as known in our day is to be found in the scores of Wagner. No one has surpassed his treatment of the wood in his earlier dramas, and the reader may accept Elsa’s entrance to the cathedral in Act II. of “Lohengrin,” and the exit of Elizabeth in Act III. of “Tannhäuser,” as complete expositions of writing for the unsupported wood-wind. In the introduction to the third act of “Lohengrin” appears this passage, which shows how Wagner could use his wood in relation to the rest of his orchestra:

[[audio/mpeg]]

The reader will at once see the open style in which the wood-wind parts are constructed. The horns serve to enrich and deepen the harmony, while the strings are used chiefly for a rhythmic effect. Weber’s scoring is full of admirable writing for the wood-wind, and for other fine examples I can once more refer the reader to Mendelssohn’s “Midsummer Night’s Dream” music.

The immense variety of coloring to be obtained from the wood is due largely to its power of producing independent harmony. Owing to the large register of the clarinets, they can be used as either soprano or low contralto instruments, while the wide scale of the bassoons permits them to be treated as basses, barytones, or tenors. It thus becomes possible to write in full and euphonious four-part harmony for two flutes and two clarinets, two oboes and two clarinets, two flutes and two bassoons, two oboes and two bassoons, or two clarinets and two bassoons. Each of these combinations differs in color from the others. If now a bass clarinet be added, it becomes possible to give it the fundamental bass and to use the bassoons for middle voices. The addition of an English horn gives further possibilities. If the number of flutes, clarinets, and bassoons be increased to three of each, the composer has still more combinations. And when it is recollected that every one of these wind-instruments can be used as a solo voice, the range of variety becomes wider yet. But the reader must also bear in mind that the addition of horns and strings still further alters the tonal colors. In short, the wood-wind provides the most useful means of giving variety of color to an orchestral score, and all modern writing abounds in ingenious, surprising, and expressive effects made with the wood choir. Yet when the thunder of an orchestral tutti is required, there is no better way to write for wood than that of Beethoven’s symphonies.

I have said nothing yet in this chapter about the piccolo and the contra-fagotto. The piccolo is a much misused instrument, but it is capable of admirable effects, as may be seen in the storm in Beethoven’s “Pastoral” symphony, the magic-fire music in “Die Walküre,” or the “Dance of the Automatons” in Delibes’s “Sylvia” ballet. The double-bassoon, or contra-fagotto, allows the composer to carry the bass of his wood-wind choir an octave lower than the compass of the bassoon. The instrument is coarse in tone and not capable of performing rapid passages, but it has its value, as is shown by its employment in the last movement of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony or Brahms’s “Chorale St. Anthony” variations. A double-bass clarinet has been invented by a New York musician. I have not heard this instrument, but am told by competent judges that it is of high value. It carries the bass an octave lower than the bass clarinet, and is capable of great agility and of the finest gradations of tone. Richard Strauss, Weingartner, and other German musicians have promised to introduce it in future scores, and I dare say it will become a fixture in the orchestra. The great value of the clarinet color to the orchestra cannot be overestimated, and any increase in its range and intensity will surely be welcomed by composers.

IX
The Brass and the “Battery”

The brass choir may be dismissed with comparative brevity, because methods of writing for it have changed on lines similar to those followed by the wood. In the early scores one finds that the trumpets were the most noticeable members of the brass, but in later music the horns are far and away the most important. It is possible to get almost any amount of richness, solidity, and variety of color out of an orchestra composed of the wood-wind, four horns, and strings; but if two trumpets and three trombones be substituted for the horns, the ingenuity of the composer will be severely taxed to prevent his work from sounding coarse in forte passages. One reason for this is that, when played moderato, horns blend perfectly with either wood or strings, and when played forte they become brassy in tone and can be made to give a good imitation of trombones. Let the reader note, when he again hears the prelude to the third act of “Lohengrin,” that the brass theme is played the first time by the horns, which sound like trombones robbed of their roughness. The second time the theme is heard the trombones enter and the tone at once becomes brassy. In fact, it may be said at once that the brassy quality of brass instruments comes out fully only when the tone is forced. When it sings moderato the brass choir is capable of the most beautiful effects of rich, organ-like sonority. One has only to recall as a perfect example of this the prayer in the first act of “Lohengrin,” one of the most effective of all modern pieces of writing for brass. When however, immense sonority is required, the fortissimo of the brass choir is the composer’s heavy gun.

The treatment of the trumpet parts in the works of Bach and Handel will be found to differ greatly from the modern manner of writing for them. In the first place, the instruments employed by those composers must have had mouth-pieces of a different kind from those of to-day, or else the players knew some things which ours do not. Both Bach and Handel wrote passages for the trumpet so high that contemporaneous musicians cannot perform them. But that is a fact of less importance to the reader of the present book than the general principle of the scoring. The old composers, then, wrote for trumpets in pairs and made them do a great deal of their work in octaves, except in some of the earliest scores, in which three trumpets were sometimes employed. Even Monteverde wrote for one clarino (a small trumpet), three trombe (the ordinary trumpet), and four tromboni. Handel used three trumpets in the “Dettingen Te Deum,” and Bach in the “Lobe den Herrn.”

Haydn used the trumpets, horns, and drums in the primitive style. The parts were written either in octaves or in sixths—occasionally in thirds—and on tonic and dominant chords, worked with the drums chiefly to enforce the tutti. Passages such as the following abound in Haydn’s symphonies:

[[audio/mpeg]]

It seems hardly possible to contrive a more hollow plan of writing than that which gives to five instruments only three notes of a chord (though the horn parts actually sound an octave lower), yet it is a method which survived till Beethoven’s time, and, so far as the trumpets go, even the mighty Ludwig made no improvement upon it. Mozart’s scores show a very slight advance upon Haydn’s. He more frequently gives three notes of the chord to the brass instruments, but he uses them in the same general way. Of course, these old composers were much restricted by the mechanical limitations of their instruments. They had the old keyless horns and trumpets, and not having the whole scale at their command, they had to write with much restraint. In the horn parts they were further compelled to remember that certain notes could be produced only in the “stopped” form, that is, by the use of one hand inserted in the bell of the instrument. These stopped notes differed wholly in quality from the open tones. This trouble lasted until the F valve horn was perfected within the present century. Before that, however, composers had begun to endeavor to give more variety to the horn parts. Weber and Beethoven both made admirable use of this, the most noble and expressive of the brass instruments, and the scores of Rossini also contain some excellent specimens of horn writing. Rossini, indeed, who was the son of a horn-player, may be said to have introduced a new style of writing for the instrument, treating it with great brilliancy as a florid solo singer. But the substantial principles of horn writing, as practised in the modern orchestra, began with Mozart, who used the instrument with much skill, especially in those scores which do not call for trumpets. Beethoven made more exacting demands upon the instrument, and there is no more effective horn passage in existence than the famous trio of the scherzo in the “Eroica” symphony. The passage is too long for quotation here, but is, of course, familiar to every music-lover. As an example of perfect writing for a solo horn nothing in symphonic music is better than the opening of the slow movement of Tschaikowsky’s fifth symphony.

The methods of employing horns are so numerous that it is not practicable to recount all of them. It may be said, however, that in small scores, which call for wood-wind, two horns and strings, these instruments are often used to form chords with either the wind or the strings. Two horns and two bassoons make very effective harmony; in fact, when the four instruments are played moderato it is almost impossible to distinguish the bassoons from the horns. The latter also blend excellently with clarinets or the low tones of flutes. In writing for four horns some composers give the two upper notes of the chord to the first and second and the two lower to the third and fourth, while others dovetail the parts by giving the first and third notes to the first and second horns. Of course, either method is subject to variation, as in a passage like this:

[[audio/mpeg]]

Here the dovetailing of parts is carried throughout, yet in the third bar the third and fourth horns double the fundamental bass in octaves.

The trombone is a very familiar instrument, and little needs to be added to what has already been said about it. There are slide and valve trombones. The former is the kind always employed in symphonic orchestras. The reader will recognize the instrument by the action of the player’s arm in moving the slide in and out. This shortening and lengthening of the tube of the instrument changes its key and thus enables the player to produce in open tones every note of the chromatic scale. The valve trombone is played with keys like those of a cornet. It is less brilliant and sonorous than the slide instrument. Trombones were employed as far back as Monteverde’s “Orfeo,” early in the seventeenth century, but there seems to have been no definite use of them till the time of Gluck. He thoroughly appreciated the majestic dignity of dramatic utterance of which the trombone was capable, and he used it with eloquent effect. Furthermore, he established for all time the custom of writing for trombones in three parts. After him, as Gevaert pertinently notes, the three trombones became a distinctive feature of dramatic scores, for the classic symphony found no use for their immense sonority till Beethoven called it to his aid in voicing the triumphant emotions of the finale of the Fifth Symphony. Nevertheless, the trombone is not necessarily an instrument to be used only in producing great volumes of tone. A beautiful example of its value in rich and subdued harmony, in company with other instruments, is to be found in the accompaniment to Sarastro’s grand air in Mozart’s “Magic Flute,” as is shown on the following page.

[[audio/mpeg]]

The three trombones, as in this example, usually play three-note chords, except when required to play in unison. The tuba fills out the harmony by doubling the bass part in the lower octave, or forming a four-part chord with the three trombones. There are tubas in several keys, but it is customary to write for the instrument without making any transposition. There is a fine tuba solo, in unison with the double-basses, at the opening of Wagner’s “Eine Faust” overture, and frequent examples of harmony for three trombones and tuba are to be found in the works of the Bayreuth master. In writing for the full brass choir alone a composer has the choice of several methods. He may give the melody to a trumpet or cornet, and use the other instruments for the harmony, or he may let a horn (or two horns in unison) take the melody. If he desires much force, he may give the melody to a trumpet and double it with a trombone. The natural method, however, is to let a trumpet, which is a good soprano voice, sing the air, while the other trumpet and three of the horns take the middle voices, the fourth horn and first and second trombones the lower middle voices, the third trombone and tuba the bass. Similar methods are employed where the brass joins with the rest of the orchestra in the thunder of a tutti fortissimo. The reader will find a most admirable example of this style of writing in the climax of the prelude to “Lohengrin.”

It should be noted that the brass choir offers certain possibilities of color both within itself and in combination with other instruments. Three trumpets are capable of independent harmony, as are four horns, and three trombones. Again, owing to the deep range of the horn, trumpets and horns may form a separate choir, or either trumpets or horns may be united with trombones. The entire brass band may be used with the wood, the strings being silent, or with the strings and without wood. Part of the brass may be used with part of the wood, as in the opening of the “Tannhäuser” overture, where two clarinets, two horns, and two bassoons produce a complete and satisfying harmony. Weird and bizarre effects can be produced by combinations of contrasting tones. Perhaps there is no better example than this remarkable use of flutes and trombones in Berlioz’s “Requiem”:

[[audio/mpeg]]

These notes had never been written for trombones before, and the composer, whose knowledge of the capacities of instruments has never been excelled, wrote in the margin of the score: “These notes are in the instruments and the players must get them out.”

As I have already noted, the operatic composers, in their search after dramatic effects, invented many of the instrumental combinations afterward adopted by the composers of purely orchestral music. The scores of Mozart and Gluck, for instance, are rich in passages which make use of the harmony of trombones, and the reader who wishes to study such effects in their early form should note the accompaniment to the words of the Commendatore in the cemetery scene of “Don Giovanni,” to the solo and chorus, “Dieu puissant,” Act I., scene 3, of Gluck’s “Alceste,” the air “Divinités du styx” in the same work, and the chorus “Vengeons et la nature,” Act II., scene 4, of “Iphigenie en Tauride.”

All that the moderns can do with trombone harmonies they learned from Gluck, and by applying his use of dispersed chords to the whole brass choir they have produced new and noble orchestral colors. Where did Wagner learn such things as this, if not from Mozart and Gluck?

[[audio/mpeg]]

Not much needs to be added to that already written about the percussive instruments employed in the orchestra. The tympani remain the most important of these. It has been found that one player can perform upon three drums with little more difficulty than upon two, and hence composers now frequently score for three, and sometimes for four. It is not uncommon for large symphonic scores to call for three tympani together with bass-drum, cymbals, and other percussive instruments. Something has already been said about the methods of writing for tympani, but there is a little to add. It has been noted that the primitive manner of writing was to give one drum the fundamental note of the tonic chord, and the other that of the dominant, but previous to Beethoven’s day it was the invariable practice to write the tonic above and the dominant below, thus tuning the drums at the interval of a fourth. The other style, with the tonic below and the dominant above, making a fifth, was introduced by Beethoven. The same master saw the advantage of tuning his tympani in still other ways, and in the finale of the Eighth Symphony and the scherzo of the Ninth he wrote for them in octaves at their extreme compass (F to F). Again, in the beginning of the last act of “Fidelio,” he wrote their parts in A and E flat in a dissonant passage of much dramatic power. Weber followed Beethoven’s example and wrote for tympani in C and A in the incantation scene of “Der Freischütz,” and Wagner has made a similar use of the drums in the beginning of the third act of “Siegfried.”

[[audio/mpeg]]

In general, it may be said that until the close of the eighteenth century composers employed tympani only in brilliant passages, such as marches, overtures, jubilant choruses, or hymns of thanksgiving; and in these they were always heard with the trumpets. It was Beethoven who took the shackles from the expressive powers of these valuable instruments and showed how they could be made to utter notes of overpowering solemnity and mystery.

The bass-drum is frequently used in the orchestra either with or without the cymbals, and the latter are often heard without the drum. Both instruments are sadly overworked by noisy composers, yet they have their value. The military snare-drum is used in characteristic passages where a military idea is to be suggested. Tambourines and castanets are also used in appropriate places. The gong, which is said to have found its way into western Europe at the time of the French Revolution, when it was used as a funeral bell, found its way into the opera-house as an aid to music of scenes of death or terror, as in Meyerbeer’s resurrection of the nuns in “Robert le Diable.” It is now used occasionally by the symphonists in passages of portentous significance.

Bells came into the orchestra for dramatic purposes, and are employed in various ways, some of which are so familiar that it is barely necessary to mention them. Handel employed a whole chime in a passage in his “Saul,” and Mozart used a set of little bells in “The Magic Flute.” Meyerbeer has called for a single deep-toned bell to imitate the tocsin of the massacre of St. Bartholomew in “Les Huguenots,” and Wagner has used several in “Parsifal.” The latter composer has used the carillon (little bells) with fine effect in the magic-fire music of “Die Walküre.” The lover of orchestral music needs no special information about bells. They are capable of musical pitch, and their notation is in the treble or bass clef, as the case may be.

The xylophone is sometimes employed in music of an artistic sort. A most excellent example of its possibilities may be found in Saint-Säens’ “Danse Macabre,” where it is supposed to imitate the rattling of bones in the grim dance of Death.

Score-readers will often find the parts for those instruments of percussion which are without musical pitch, such as triangles, cymbals, bass-drums, etc., written not on a stave, but on a single line. The rhythm can be indicated satisfactorily in this way, and that is all that is needed.

X
Qualities of Good Orchestration

It is now possible to speak more in detail about those essential qualities of good orchestration to which reference was made at the beginning of this part of the book. Unless I have failed to make myself understood, the reader will be prepared, in applying the principles of orchestration to those works which may come under his attention, to benefit by historical perspective. He will not expect of Haydn or Mozart such richness and complexity of scoring as he will demand and find in the works of contemporaneous composers. The technics of orchestral writing are very thoroughly and widely understood in our day. It is expected, as a matter of course, that every composer shall understand them. Now, this does not purport to be a text-book on orchestration, yet it is desirable that something be said for the information of the amateur of music about the requirements of good orchestration. The object of a volume of this kind is to help people to enjoy music by pointing out what composers have designed for their enjoyment. The pleasure to be derived from the performance of an orchestral composition must naturally be largely increased when the listener is alert to catch all the varieties of excellence which may be combined in it. Orchestration, as I have already said, does not mean the playing of an orchestra, though the word is frequently misused in that sense. It means writing for an orchestra, and it has certain requirements not always to be found even in the works of the great masters. Schumann, for example, scored very poorly, and some of his works suffer by reason of his inability to clothe his poetic thoughts in the most eloquent instrumental language. Meyerbeer, on the other hand, was a veritable trickster with instruments, and could produce a theatrical effect with a penny-ballad idea, while Berlioz could enchant an audience with no idea at all. Beethoven and Wagner are two of the perfect models of orchestral writing, the former in the classic and early romantic style, and the latter in the fully developed romantic style.