Edward Elgar and His World

by Adams, Byron

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

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

  That work of Elgar’s has certainly more inspiration and shows a clearer call for musical composition. Indeed, many of its pages contain some of the most impressive music of modern days. As at first, the Judas music seems to me the most successful of the whole oratorio. It is a veritable inspiration and shows a great advance in the composer’s grasp of declamatory style. The new point which the Gloucester performance brought out was the real power and beauty of the final “Ascension” section. Here the composer rises to a big musical climax—not a climax of mere orchestral noise and the piling up of choral complexities, but a climax of feeling and conception. There is nothing in “The Dream of Gerontius” to equal the glow of feeling of this section of the later work. The performance of the Gloucester choir, although by no means perfect in detail, was singularly expressive and intelligent. Evidently the work had been splendidly rehearsed by the organists of the Three Choirs, and the chorus sang as if it entered fully into the meaning of the oratorio. Sir Hubert Parry’s work, on the other hand, was not well presented. The composer himself conducted, and his talents do not run towards the direction of large choral and orchestral forces.

  —E. A. BAUGHAN

  Part IV: The London Choral Society Performance (February 13, 1905)

  Founded in 1903 by the conductor of the Dulwich Philharmonic Society, Arthur Fagge, the London Choral Society specialized in performing British choral works, particularly those that were new or were perceived to be unjustly neglected.53 Elgar was central to the Society’s activities during its first two seasons; at least one work by Elgar was featured in all five of the Society’s concerts in 1904–1905 (these included two performances of Gerontius). This was presumably not because Elgar’s music was felt to be underperformed but because it was well-known to the singers and attracted large audiences: two imperatives for a conductor attempting to establish the reputation of a new choir.

  The Apostles was the third concert of the 1904–1905 season and took place, as did all the London Choral Society’s concerts, at Queen’s Hall. Among the soloists only Ffranggon Davies had sung at the premiere. The American soprano Clementina De Vere-Sapio sang the Blessed Virgin and the Angel Gabriel;54 Marie Brema, one of the soloists in the premiere of Gerontius, sang Mary Magdalene;55 Gregory Hast sang St. John;56 Francis Braun sang St. Peter;57 and Plunket Greene sang Judas, as he had done in Gloucester.

  From the Concert Room

  The Musical Standard 68, no. 2116 (full series) (18 February 1905): 100

  The author of this article, L. L., has not been identified.

  “The Apostles” at Queen’s Hall.

  SIR EDWARD ELGAR’S “The Apostles” was performed on Monday evening, February 13, by the London Choral Society under the direction of Mr. Arthur Fagge. The idea of the work came to the composer in his school days at Worcester. The head-master had been discoursing on the Twelve to his pupils: “The Apostles” he said, “were poor men, young men at the time of their calling; perhaps before the descent of the Holy Ghost not cleverer than some of you here.” This impressed the young musician and as he afterwards told his biographer, Mr. R. J. Buckley, the oratorio of 1903 was the result.58 The impression one carries away from a first hearing of this fine work is one of admiration for the marvellous constructive unity of purpose in both libretto and music and for the vivid dramatic power in the second part. The cohesiveness and directness of aim seems greater than in “The Dream of Gerontius.” It is more direct, the action more rapid, and therefore it seems stronger, more dignified. “I have been thinking it out from boyhood,” Sir Edward Elgar said speaking of his libretto, “and have been selecting words for years, many years. I am my own librettist. Some day I will give you my ideas on the relationship between libretti and composer.”59 It will not fail to be of interest to many when Sir Edward makes public his theories on the subject. In “The Apostles” the music and words are of intimate unison and in closest sympathy. The work is divided into two parts, which are again subdivided into seven numbers. The two parts are strongly contrasted. The music of t
he first is reposeful, placid, suited to the early environments and circumstances of the chief characters. The opening bars of “By the Wayside,” in which section Jesus first appears, are tender and melodious. They are heard again when He “came into the parts of Cassarea Philippi,” “By the sea of Galilee” and in the “Betrayal,” when “He went throughout every town and village preaching and shewing the glad tidings of the Kingdom of God.” In the first section two very beautiful little orchestral tone-pictures are given: “In the Mountain—Night,” where “Jesus continued all night in prayer to God”; and “The Dawn,” in which the Shofar is heard and the watchers are on the Temple roof. The poetical feeling of the early morn is restrained but none the less extremely effective and delicate; as the sun rises the chorus sings: “The face of all the East is now ablaze with light, the dawn reacheth even unto Hebron.” The same musical subject is used again slightly altered “At the Sepulchre” on Easter morn when “early in the morning they came unto the Sepulchre at the rising of the Sun.” In the second part from the “Betrayal” to “Golgotha” the great drama is unfolded with swift, nervous strokes. The figure of Judas stands out in strong relief. Elgar takes the modern view which lends infinite pathos to the character and which gives an added interest to the conception. There is not the slightest touch of theatricality in the “March to Calvary,” and the blaspheming rabble are convincingly portrayed with their wild shout of “Crucify Him, crucify Him.” Finally, of the fresh central Figure on the Hill of Crucifixion only a suggestion is given by seven bars of orchestration, over which, on the score are outlined the words, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani.” The work concludes with the mystic semi-chorus and chorus in “Heaven” and soli and chorus on “Earth.” Sir Edward Elgar’s music is distinctive and individual. With an early love for, and knowledge of the old contrapuntists and classicists, he has constructed his work on their deep fine foundations. It is invidious to compare him, either to his detriment or to his advantage with Wagner, Brahms, Richard Strauss and others. His personality is not in any way akin to theirs. His works carry the impress of a calm, keen intellect; his genius is the product of a serious yet eminently genial English mind. Though apologies were made for Miss Marie Brema (Mary Magdalene) and Mr. Gregory Hast (St. John) on the score of colds, yet they sang the music allotted to them with great expression and sympathy. Mme. de Vere, Mr. Ffrangcon-Davies [sic] and Mr. F. Braun, as the Virgin Mary, Jesus and St. Peter sang their respective parts with fine artistic insight. Judas was most effectively rendered by Mr. Plunket Greene. The orchestra and choruses had been very carefully rehearsed and the result, allowing for certain discrepancies, was a good, all-round performance.

  —L. L.

  From the Concert Room

  The Musical Standard 68, no. 2116 (full series) (18 February 1905): 100–101

  The following article continues on from L. L.’s article above. The identity of its author, “J. H. G. B.,” has caused some confusion. Jerrold Northrop Moore suggests that he was Percy Betts of The Daily News, but this is incorrect: Betts’s full name was Thomas Percival Milbourne, and he had died on August 27, 1904. J. H. G. B. was in fact J. H. G. Baughan, the brother of E. A. Baughan, whom he succeeded as editor of The Musical Standard in 1902 (a position that J. H. G. Baughan held until the end of June 1913.)60

  The Oratorio Musically Considered.

  More than once has it been declared that the music of Elgar’s “The Apostles” suffers from over-elaboration. On Monday evening, at the Queen’s Hall, the writer felt that that criticism does not hit home at all, though it may possibly in the opinion of those who refuse to the oratorio any of the musical development that has taken place in other branches of the art. It is true, on the other hand, that “The Dream of Gerontius” and “The Apostles” mark a great advance in form and in detail over any previous choral works by the same or any other British composer. Yet it is impossible to believe Elgar has gone too far; it is, indeed, far easier to believe, from an artistic standpoint that he has not gone far enough. The writer, however, is not altogether certain whether the leit-motif method in composing music does or does not contribute in the first part of this latest manifestation of Elgar to the prevailing effect of boredom. Wagner did certainly not work his motiven, in such a bald, spasmodic and unvaried way. This defect is far less noticeable in “The Dream of Gerontius.” But it is probable, nevertheless, that Elgar would do better if he abandoned this Wagnerian device, as unsuited to his talent; that so his music would become more spontaneous in effect. Again, there is also much room for improvement in his writing for the vocal principals, both as regards melody and recitative. He writes beautifully and tellingly for the chorus, but for the solos he frequently assigns vague, meaningless and totally ineffective phrases. Wagner thoroughly understood, and was master of the human voice; he wrote phrases for his singers of which, with a few pardonable exceptions, they could make something; phrases that were well grown and nourished. Thus his vocalists were interested. If they are not interested, how can you expect them to sing well? Even, Miss Marie Brema made nothing of the melodic and recitative music assigned to Mary Magdalene. It is true that indulgence was claimed on the score of a cold, but really it must have been an extraordinarily slight cold, as her singing showed absolutely no signs of indisposition. And the same may be said of Mr. Gregory Hast, for whom indulgence was similarly claimed. The male singers are better served, though scarcely the tenor (Apostle St. John)—on this occasion, Mr. Hast. There is, undoubtedly, some really good and impressive writing for the baritones, more especially is this noticeable in the music that falls to Judas Iscariot. And Mr. Plunket Greene—though one cannot always admire what he does—made quite the most of it. I do not say that the music for the three low male voices is anything very remarkable in gratefulness or effectiveness, but, in my opinion, it is a world better than that the soprano and contralto have to sing, especially the contralto. The music becomes more interesting—Elgar was ever good at descriptive music—in the second part, and the vocal principals have considerably less to do, and what they do fully passes muster; or to put it another way, you are not worried by any great shortcoming on the part of the composer. The orchestral introduction, however, is, to speak plainly, a very poor thing. It is bald, means absolutely nothing; and must surely have been written in a hurry. That complaint made, I have to say that the remainder of the work really flows properly. It is not great music; it is not the music of genius; it has, as all Elgar, but little of the harmonic refinement and science of the great German School of Music—Bach, Beethoven, Wagner and Richard Strauss. But it is music of great talent, and that, of course, is a good deal. That Part I., however, can never appeal to me, with its faded Elgarisms and general oppressiveness. No music can be good that is laboured. And the fact should not be explained away—such as the book demanded that sort of treatment, etc., etc. Strange to say, there are a few who positively do not feel that it is laboured. Some musicians—plain men who are not always thought much of and who often know something about composition—are entirely of my opinion. The performance, conducted by Mr. Arthur Fagge, was extremely meritorious.

  —J. H. G. B.

  NOTES

  The author wishes to thank Byron Adams, James Clement, Stewart Gilles, Geoffrey Hodgkins, and Charles Edward McGuire for their help in the preparation of this chapter; thanks also to the library and staff of the Bodleian Library, Oxford; the Faculty of Music Library, Oxford; the British Library; and the British Library Newspapers at Colindale.

  1. Jerrold Northrop Moore, ed., Elgar and his Publishers: Letters of a Creative Life (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1987), 1:414–16; “Dr. Elgar’s New Oratorio: ‘The Apostles,’” The Musical Times 44 (April 1903): 228–29; “The Apostles,” The Musical Times 44 (July 1903): 449–50. The libretto referred to in the April article was not that of the oratorio in its final form, but that of the larger, three-part Apostles whose third part eventually became the basis of The Kingdom. Edwards had arranged with Elgar to submit the article on
the music in time for publication in the June issue, but illness prevented the composer from doing so. See Moore, Elgar and his Publishers, 1:435–36.

  2. Canon Gorton, “Dr. Elgar’s Oratorio ‘The Apostles,’” The Musical Times 44 (October 1903): 656–57; Jerrold Northrop Moore, Edward Elgar: A Creative Life (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1984), 414; Meirion Hughes, The English Musical Renaissance and the Press 1880–1914: Watchmen of Music (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2002), 174.

  3. C. V. Gorton, The Apostles: sacred oratorio by Edward Elgar. An Interpretation of the libretto (London: Novello, 1903); A. J. Jaeger, The Apostles, Parts I and II, by Edward Elgar: Book of Words with Notes (London: Novello, 1903).

  4. See Hughes, Watchmen of Music, 85–88.

  5. The Musical Standard 1, no. 1 (1862): 2; quoted in “Repertoire International de la Presse Musicale: The Musical Standard 1862–1871 [First Series],” prepared by Diana Snigurowicz; data processed and edited at the Center for Studies in Nineteenth-Century Music, University of Maryland, College Park (Ann Arbor, Mich.: University Microfilms, 1991), ix-xii.

  6. “Musicians of the Day: Edward Elgar,” The Musical Standard 51 (21 November 1896): 317; see Hughes, Watchmen of Music, 165. For the reasons behind the change of Elgar’s original title of Lux Christi to The Light of Life, see Robert Anderson, Elgar (New York: Schirmer Books, 1993), 32.