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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/13767-0.txt b/13767-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4073587 --- /dev/null +++ b/13767-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1066 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13767 *** + +EDWARD MACDOWELL + +His Work and Ideals + +by + +ELIZABETH FRY PAGE + +With Poetical Interpretations by the Author + +New York + + + + + + + +Dedicated to MRS. ALINE REESE BLONDNER + +Founder and Honorary President of the MacDowell Club of Nashville, +Tennessee. + + + + + +CONTENTS + +PREFACE + +EDWARD MACDOWELL + His Work and Ideals + +POETICAL INTERPRETATIONS + + To MacDowell + A. D. 1620 + Song + In Deep Woods + Shadow Dance + At an Old Trysting-Place + To a Water Lily + Told at Sunset + To a Wild Rose + The Spirit Call + A Deserted Farm + In Memoriam + + + + +PREFACE + + + +This is not merely an appreciation of Edward MacDowell as a man and a +composer, but a study of the influences and natural endowments that +combined to produce his style, a comparison of his work with that of +others who achieved fame in other branches of the fine arts, all of +which he felt were closely allied and supplemental, and a glance at +his ideals and their evolution at Peterboro. + +Most of his compositions are written around some poetic idea and are +so suggestive and appealing to the imagination that in studying them +the native poetic fancy is easily aroused; but the full effect is lost +to the casual hearer who is not familiar with the theme. The +accompanying poems are interpretations of some of his best-known piano +numbers, based upon the briefly indicated poetic idea upon which they +are founded, reinforced by a careful intellectual study of each +composition and its appeal to the individual creative faculty of the +author. + +The sonnet to MacDowell was written at the beginning of the two +darkened years preceding his death, when he forgot that there was such +a thing as music. + +"A.D. 1620" and "Song" are from the "Sea Pieces." The former describes +the sailing of the galleon bearing the Pilgrim Fathers to America. The +"Song," which is distinctly Irish in its melody, seems to me to be +sung by a lad on board the galleon, who sings and whistles to keep up +the courage of his fellow-pilgrims, thereby forgetting his own pain. + +The "Shadow Dance" is written three notes to two, and this difficult +musical form is represented by the three shadows dancing before two +people. "A Deserted Farm" is a lyric description of the now beautiful +"Hill Crest" as he found it. "The Spirit Call" is suggested by the +Celtic vein of mystery and haunting sadness pervading most of the +MacDowell music. + +The sonnet "To a Wild Rose" was inspired by a rumor from the +musician's sick room that his night had passed and he would recover; +but this was a false hope, and it was not long until he was sleeping +on a green hill-side at Peterboro, his resting-place, in the grandeur +of its simplicity, suggesting the modest, child-hearted, nature-loving +man who had passed on beyond earth's discord. + +The other poems in this little collection speak for themselves, and +all are offered as a handful of rosemary to one who ever harkened to +the simplest strain.--E.F.P. + + + + +EDWARD MACDOWELL + + + +HIS WORK AND IDEALS + + + +_"Late explorers say they have found some nations that have no God; +but I have not read of any that had no music." "Music means harmony, +harmony means love, love means--God."_--SIDNEY LANIER. + +"Music is love in search of a word," said the same poet-musician. He +was born full of the music and the love, and so was enabled to find +and transmit to the world the undying word. + +One cannot be a true poet, it seems to me, without at least an abiding +love and sympathetic appreciation of the finest in music, or a great +musician without a love of poetry and a responsiveness to its +witchery. The two arts are interdependent and well nigh inseparable. A +great musician may compose a song without words, but sooner or later +there will be born a poet-soul who, hearing the song, will be +irresistibly impelled to supply the words. On the other hand, many of +the greatest musical compositions we have were inspired, like most of +MacDowell's, by some poet's lines, a single figure, sentence or stanza +furnishing the theme of oratorio, cantata, opera or ballad. Schubert's +genius could be fired at any time, even under the most adverse +conditions, by a beautiful poem, and many writers have received the +inspiration for their masterpieces under the influence of music. + +In some compositions combining both words and music, one will be very +much the inferior of the other, and the thoughtful student or listener +can but regret the discrepancy. Perhaps the words will be imposing and +the musical setting trivial, or the music rich and full of color, but +the words meaningless and inadequate. MacDowell's songs are +satisfying. In his work he reminds one very forcibly of Sidney Lanier, +whose genius was perfectly balanced. His music was full of poetry and +his poetry ran over with music. His was an harmonious nature and no +amount of external discord could cause him to lose his keynote. +Applying his own beautiful words to himself: + + "His song was only living aloud, + His work a singing with his hands." + +Lanier played beautifully upon a silver flute, which he lovingly +describes as "a petal on a harmony." He was a member of the Peabody +Symphony orchestra of Baltimore, and Asger Hamerik, his director for +six years, says of him: "In his hands the flute no longer remained a +mere material instrument, but was transformed into a voice that set +heavenly harmonies into vibration. Its tones developed colors, warmth +and a low sweetness of unspeakable poetry. His conception of music was +not reached by an analytic study of note by note, but was intuitive +and spontaneous, like a woman's reason." In 1878 he played a flute +concerto at a symphony concert, and the director said of him: "His +tall, handsome, manly presence, his flute breathing noble sorrows, +noble joys, the orchestra softly responding. The audience was +spellbound. Such distinction, such refinement! He stood the master, +the genius." + +In studying MacDowell, one is reminded at every turn of this dual +genius. Like Lanier, his message is being better understood every +year, and now that he is gone, "fulfillment is dropping on a come-true +dream." + +MacDowell had great advantages over Lanier in his early life in +freedom from financial worry. In his youth he was privileged to travel +and search until he found his own real masters, in the Frankfort +Conservatory, where he studied piano with Heymann and composition with +Raff. At Weimar he met Liszt, who recognized his ability and accorded +him such unstinted praise that he was invited to play his first piano +suite before the Allgemeiner Deutscher Musik-Verein at its nineteenth +annual convention, held at Zurich in July, 1882. Both the composition +and his rendition of it won enthusiastic appreciation and applause. + +Lanier had a hard, brave struggle to maintain his ideals in the face +of a continually thwarting fate that would have caused many a man, +stronger physically than he, to become discouraged, despairing. Ill +health, poverty and lack of appreciation of his life work had not the +power to destroy his optimism. He bravely waged an unequal combat with +the three, when many a man would have fallen on his own sword to end +the bitter struggle with either one of them. From out the gloom he +sang thus: + + "The dark hath many dear avails, + The dark distils divinest dews; + The dark is rich with nightingales, + With dreams and with the heavenly Muse." + +Just at the awakening of public appreciation of his work and +recognition of his right to rank as America's greatest composer of +music, MacDowell died to the world of men through a mental collapse +brought on by over-work, and for two years, forgetting that there was +such a thing as music, the great tone-poet dwelt in a soundless world. +Sorrow for such a fate at the zenith of a career of so much promise +was world-wide, and many hoped that he would emerge from the dark, +after a time, with his genius enriched by long subjective communion +with the "heavenly Muse"; but he had dwelt too long in the abstract +world of sound and had heard the music of the spheres until earth +tones became fainter and fainter and finally ceased altogether. + +Then, after having admitted his greatness during those two shadowed +years, when the hand of death rang down the curtain on his +earth-drama, his contemporaries began to examine more critically into +the why and wherefore of the decision that accorded him leadership. + +A well-known critic calls him the American Grieg, but while applauding +the fanciful style of the Norwegian, one often hears MacDowell accused +of being merely capricious. But what is caprice? + +Bishop Trench reminds us in his famous treatise that the word is +derived from _capra_, "a goat," and represents, in a picturesque +manner, a mental movement as unaccountable, as little to be calculated +on beforehand, as the springs and bounds of that whimsical animal. + +The work of MacDowell certainly has the characteristic vigor and +vividness, the unstudied activity, the unexpected leaps and springs +that the derivation of the word "caprice" suggests. And, if one cares +for mysticism, it is interesting to know that according to the +teachings of the ancient science of astrology, which is having a +considerable revival at present, the composer is entitled to +unconventional methods and an unusual combination of qualities, as he +was born on the cusp between the zodiacal signs of Sagittarius and +Capricornus. The latter sign produces people who will work well +independently, but are very restless when under orders or hampered by +rules and regulations. They love freedom, are fine entertainers, have +little self-esteem, are inclined to be either on the heights or in the +depths, are excellent musicians and lovers of harmony and beauty. They +are often victims of over-work because of the determination to make a +brilliant success of what they undertake and of their lack of judgment +in regard to their powers of endurance. Sagittarius people are +characterized by directness of speech and act. They are of varied +talents, very musical and turn naturally to the spiritual side of +life. They belong to the prophetic realm and see wonderful visions, +but are no idle dreamers, being always mentally and physically active. +Whatever there may be in the science of astrology, one who is familiar +with the life and character of Edward MacDowell cannot fail to be +impressed by the correctness of this delineation, so far as it goes. + +But his style of composition is not, to my mind, capricious. It is the +result of many interesting influences of heredity, culture and +individual temperament and application. When he went to Paris, at +fifteen, he was a pupil of Marmontel in piano and of Savard in theory +and composition; but young as he was, the French school did not +satisfy him. He heard Nicholas Rubinstein play while in Paris, and +became fired with enthusiasm by his style and impressed with the idea +that in Germany he would find his own. His father was of Quaker +extraction and had decided artistic ability, but his pious parents +would not permit him to indulge even the thought of cultivating or +pursuing so trivial a calling. Edward inherited his father's talent, +and while in the French capital, during a period of despondency over +his slow progress with the language, he made a caricature of the +teacher of his French class on a leaf of his exercise book. In some +way it fell under the tutor's eye, and it was of such excellence that +it aroused new interest in the gifted hoy instead of indignation. The +teacher showed it to one of the leading artists in Paris, who implored +young MacDowell to leave off music and study art, assuring him that he +had unusual ability. But the lad also had a well-developed +discriminative faculty. He had chosen his ideal and could not he +persuaded to forsake it, preferring tone-pictures to those made with +brushes and palette. + +Besides the Quaker strain, with its tendency toward dignity, +simplicity and openness to the leadings of spirit, he owes to his +Celtic lineage the mystic, poetic, dashing, unsophisticated vein that +might be easily mistaken for caprice, and to his American birth is +due, no doubt, many of the more solid, practical characteristics that +combined to produce the proper balance. + +Naturally, he was deeply influenced by his foreign teachers and also +by his favorites among the great masters whose works he studied. He is +said to have adored Wagner, with Tschaikowsky and Grieg for lesser +musical loves. To what extent he drew upon Wagner no one can say, but +that he did so, either unconsciously or with that imitation that is +sincerest flattery is very evident. Many passages suggest Wagner, and +one can easily imagine the ardent young American worshiping the great +German master, as he in turn had adored Beethoven. + +Liszt used to say: "I only value people by what they are to Wagner." +There is no estimating the value of Wagner to those who came after +him. He was not satisfied, we are told, with either the melody of the +Italians or the rhetorical excesses of the French. The music of +Beethoven was his ideal, and the dramas of Shakespeare, whose work, to +his mind, compared with the early Greek plays, was like a scene in +nature in comparison with a piece of architecture. Mme. de Staël +called beautiful architecture "frozen music." It was just this +architectural, frozen, congealed condition that Wagner wished to +overcome, without running into any frivolities. He was in every sense +a living, breathing _man_, and his work is pervaded by this virile, +life-like quality. In his first youthful attempt at drama, forty-two +persons perished in the development of the plot and most of them had +to be brought back as ghosts to enable him to complete the piece. Now, +however, one is haunted by the faithfulness to life of his creations, +not by the ghosts of his slaughtered victims, and an aspiring young +composer who adored him could not help imbibing some of his power. + +Wagner thought that the musician should write his own lines in opera +or song, and conceived and mastered a new form, taking poetry into +music just as Sidney Lanier took music into poetry in his "Science of +English Verse." Wagner also thought that because of the exactness of +musical science, a composer became practically the actor of each of +his parts, while the dramatic author could never be sure what meaning +would be read into his lines. + +The native poetic temperament of MacDowell and his almost invariable +use of lines, figures or stanzas of poetry as inspiration in +composition leads one to believe that he would have attempted opera +when he had grown to it. This was one of the few musical forms that he +did not essay. Perhaps he was of the opinion of Beethoven, as Wagner +conceived him, who said when speaking of opera: "The man who created a +_true_ musical drama would be looked upon as a fool--and would _be_ +one in very truth if he did not keep such a thing to himself, but +wanted to bring it before the public." + +MacDowell is frequently called a mystic, and most of his efforts +breathe the Celtic spirit, which is full of melancholy, romance and +tenderness. Ghosts creep through their pages and wandering, restless +spirits call from his most characteristic harmonies. Wagner was a +mystic at sixteen, dwelling largely in the abstract, but grew out of +this, through varied experience, into an active philosopher, with +every objective faculty on the alert, and thus escaped, perhaps, the +fate of MacDowell. + +The literary loves of MacDowell, who supplied him with such a wealth +of inspiration, were Goethe, Heine, Shakespeare, Tennyson and Keats, +and he was himself a poet of no mean ability. Lawrence Gilman says, in +his thorough analysis of his work, that, writing as he usually does +from some poetic theme, the effect is lost if the hearer does not know +the idea around which the composition is woven. For instance, one is +apt to take "A.D. 1620" for a funeral dirge, just to hear it without +knowledge of the subject, as it somewhat resembles the Chopin Funeral +March; but the title suggests something historic, and knowing the +lines that inspired it, one can easily distinguish the waves and the +majestic movement of a great ship putting out to sea. + +Naturally, MacDowell drew heavily upon the German poets, Goethe and +Heine, in his earlier works, as he began his serious study of +composition in Germany. Equally naturally did he turn to Tennyson, as +they are alike in psychic development and in their powers of +interpretation of nature. Recently, in Lincoln, England, a new statue +of Tennyson was unveiled. It is by Watts, and represents the poet clad +in a cape overcoat, with slouch hat in hand and his dog at his side. +He and his dumb friend have been strolling in the woods and his head +is bent over an uprooted flower held lovingly in his hand. Underneath +are the lines which inspired the striking pose: + + "Flower in the crannied wall, + I pluck you out of the crannies, + I hold you here, root and all, in my hand. + Little flower--but if I could understand + What you are, root and all, and all in all, + I should know what God and man is." + +It is a beautiful conception, the big, tall man contemplating thus +reverently, with bared head, the tender epitome of life. The dog, with +head upraised, points a comprehending nose in the direction of his +poet-master's find, and looks as if he longed to help him unravel the +mystery. MacDowell would adore this piece of sculpture, for he sought +the secret of life in flower and brook and landscape, in mountain and +vale and sea. + +Gilman compares the "Sea Pieces" to Walt Whitman and Swinburne. Like +Whitman, MacDowell is no strict adherent to set forms, placing +inspiration ahead of tradition. Some of his most beautiful +compositions are very brief. Poe claims that there is no such thing in +existence as a "long poem." Since a poem only deserves the name in +proportion to its power to excite and elevate the soul, and a +sustained condition of soul excitement and elevation is a psychic +impossibility, the oft-used phrase is a contradiction in terms. +Applying this idea to the familiar piano compositions of MacDowell, +they have every right to be called "tone poems." Poetry is the +color-work of the mind, as distinguished from its sculpture and +architecture, which represent mere form. There is more than form in +the compositions under consideration; the tinge of color is +everywhere, the wave of poetry that produces soul excitement and +elevation, from signature to final chord. While he handles a subject +broadly, as an impressionist, accomplishing striking effects with a +few bold, characteristic strokes, MacDowell still works out his tone +picture with considerable detail, carefully indicating the results he +wishes to achieve. He reminds one in his methods of Corot, the great +landscape painter. He will tell you to play a passage "very tenderly," +or "somewhat savagely," or "daintily and joyously," not being content +with the usual color terms. When he is loud, he is very, very loud, +and in the same composition will have a passage marked with four p's. +He likes contrasts and uses them very effectively. His music has the +charm of infinite variety, but there is an insistent note of +sombreness pervading most of it that is heard even above the majesty +of the "Sea Pieces," the beauty of the "Woodland Sketches" and the +humor of the "Marionettes." In the "New England Idyls" there is a +plaintive little wail, "From a Log Cabin," the rustic retreat in the +woods at Peterboro, his "house of dreams untold," where MacDowell did +most of his later composition. It speaks of solitude, isolation and a +moan of the wind is heard in the tree tops, with an answering moan +from the heart of a man who may have had some premonition of his fate. + +He is the first composer of world-note since Brahms who did his best +work for the piano. Others have used that instrument as a means +merely, reserving their crowning efforts for the orchestra, where it +is, of course, far less difficult to achieve fine effects. While he +wrote successful orchestral suites, he dignified the single instrument +by devoting his first thought to piano literature. + +His humorous suite, "The Marionettes," very strongly suggests Jerome +K. Jerome's "Stageland," in which the villain is represented as an +individual who always wears a clean collar and smokes a cigarette. The +hero approaches the heroine from the rear and "breathes his attachment +down her back," and the poor heroine is pursued by the relentless +storm, while on the other side of the street the sun is shining. +MacDowell portrays the coquettish "Soubrette," the longing "Lover," +the strong-charactered "Witch," the gay "Clown," the sinister +"Villain" and the simple, tender "Sweetheart," with a Prologue +indicating "sturdy good humor" and an Epilogue to be rendered +"musingly, with deep feeling." The suite is very attractive and in +sharp contrast to his romantic, heroic and lyric work. + +Another potent factor in the formation of MacDowell's style of +composition was his love of nature. No one has put truer brooks, +birds, flowers, trees, meadows or sea into tone. Whenever he "loafed +and invited his soul," the tired, city-worn world reaped the benefit. +His lesser piano compositions may be, in a sense, considered in the +light of a diary. We are with him in a fisherman's hut, in deep woods, +on a deserted farm, in the haunted house, by the lily pond, in +mid-ocean, by a meadow brook, by smoldering embers, always seeing the +picture, hearing the voices or feeling the atmosphere that appealed to +his artist mind. The charm of common things, the ever-present beauty +and harmony in all forms of life, supplied him with endless +inspiration. + +In portraying nature, he is in no sense a copyist. He does not +describe a scene, an occasion or an object, but suggests it, being an +adept in the use of musical metaphor. Robert Louis Stevenson says that +the one art in literature is to omit. "If I knew how to omit," says +he, "I should ask no other knowledge." Painters tell us that the +highest evidence of skill in transferring nature to canvas is to avoid +too much detail, and they squint up their eyes in order not to see too +much. These standards prove MacDowell the artist. He does not make the +mistake that so many preachers and public teachers do of presuming +upon the ignorance or stupidity of his hearers, but leaves something +to their imagination and inner artistic senses. + +There is a reverence of nature, a depth of love that amounts almost to +sadness, in this man's work that stamps him the pantheist in the +highest sense. This is, I think, a common characteristic of the +mystic. Their consciousness of the oneness of all life is so perfect +that God is seen even in its lowest forms. Sermons are read in stones +and books in the running brooks. This suggests MacDowell's kinship to +Shakespeare, Ruskin, Emerson and Thoreau; but it is a limitless +analogy. All genius, in the end, is of one blood, and MacDowell is +unquestionably a genius. + +When one is entering upon a literary career, the first injunction is +to "acquire a style." "But how?" asks the aspirant. Some say by +becoming familiar with the forms of expression of the best authors, +and such advise that you read without stint. Others bid you write, +write incessantly about everything under the sun, until by long +practice you evolve a style of your own, unhampered in its originality +by the memory of the achievements of others resulting from much +reading. There are still others who advise an equal division of time +between study of the classics and self-expression. The latter is the +most natural and common method and leads in time to the goal. Perhaps +the same is true of musical style. Technical skill, accuracy, +interpretation and appreciation come from studying and performing the +works of others; then if one aspires to original work, let him +compose, essaying any and everything until his own peculiar bent is +discovered, unless it forces itself upon him with the insistence of +destiny from the outset. + +While the critics have admitted the freshness, originality and general +excellence of MacDowell's work and marveled over his versatility, his +shorter piano pieces and songs are as yet most popular in the making +of programmes. However, Henry T. Finck says of his sonatas: "As +regards the sonatas, I ought to bear MacDowell a decided grudge. After +I had written and argued a hundred times that the sonata form was +'played out,' he went to work and wrote four sonatas to confute me. To +be sure, I might have my revenge and say they are 'not sonatas'; but +they are no more unorthodox than the sonatas of Chopin, Schumann, +Liszt and Grieg, though they have a freedom of their own which is +captivating. They are brimful of individuality and charm; they will be +heard often in the concert halls of the future." + +The "Sonata Tragica" might have been written of the composer himself, +and "The Heroica" could easily have been inspired by his wife, instead +of by the Arthur legends, for she is a knightly soul, combining to a +most unusual degree the artistic temperament, womanly tenderness and +charm, with a chivalrous sort of courage, suggesting Tennyson's lines: + + "My woman-soldier, gallant Kate, + As pure and true as blades of steel." + +These are busy days for her at Peterboro, where she is daily striving +to put the MacDowell ideals into permanent and practical effect. The +plan is most appealing and can, perhaps, be better understood by +contrast, if a little insight is given into a state of things, the +amelioration of which is the purpose of the project. + +You are invited, then, to step into a neat and attractive modern +apartment kitchen, say three years ago. The grocery boy had just left. +Everything was there, and of unusually good quality--crisp lettuce, +golden oranges, the inevitable loaf of whole wheat bread, the sugar +and lemons--and as the housekeeper compared the articles with the +grocer's book which she held in her hand, she gave a start. Some one +across the way was playing "To a Wild Rose." Yes, it was Wednesday, +and a glance at the kitchen clock revealed the fact that in ninety +minutes the MacDowell Club would be called to order, and she had +promised a poem for the programme. Shades of Sappho! What was to be +done? There had been no time in the two weeks since the last meeting, +between housekeeping, mending, grinding out of pot-boilers and +countless interruptions, to give the matter a thought, and she had +never been known to forget such a promise. + +Pegasus neighed reassuringly, and seizing the stub of a pencil +attached to the grocer's book, after a moment of concentration, in +which she closed her eyes to shut out the material vision before her, +she scribbled rapidly on a few blank pages in the back of the plebeian +record. After several readings of the lines and sundry interlined +revisions, she tore out the sheets, blessed Pegasus for coming in +under the wire so nobly, and hurried away to dress. At the appointed +time, sheepishly trying to conceal her unpoetic manuscript, which +there had been no time to copy, behind a lace fan, she arose, flushed +but sustaining her reputation for reliability as a programme feature. + +'Twas for like-conditioned people, aspiring to work out their dreams +in words, tones, color or clay in congenial surroundings, undisturbed +by any domestic or other distraction or inharmony, that Edward +MacDowell conceived the idea now being carried out at Peterboro, New +Hampshire. + +The plan was not to provide a rest-cure or moderate-priced summer home +for broken-down musicians, artists and writers, as many seem to think, +but to give those at the very height of their productiveness a chance +for undisturbed work, under the inspiration of nature in her most +alluring guise, and association, after work hours, with such rare +souls as could arouse higher aspiration by thought interchange and +comparison of ideals. + +Ask the average workman along any artistic line what he would rather +have than anything else and he is very sure to tell you, "Leisure for +work!" And after that, the strongest desire is for the companionship +of some one who really understands what he is trying to do. + +His good angel must have led Edward MacDowell to Peterboro. I can +imagine no other setting so perfect for the last act of his life, with +its shifting scenes. Whatever else the great power back of the +universe may be, He is the Master Artist, and in the making of this +village of enchantment He seems to have gathered together all His most +beautiful materials and combined them with lavish hand. Quaint and +picturesque houses are sprinkled over the foot-hills of the Monadnock +Mountains. Green fields go down to meet clear streams of placid water, +where trailing vines and overhanging boughs make charming shadows. The +sun sparkles against great gray boulders, lichen-grown, and upon +yellow sand dunes. There are pines, larches, firs, spruces and all +their sturdy kinspeople, scattered freely that the eye may at any +season be gladdened by the sight of living green, and interspersed +with these are deciduous trees of every kind, to make a fantastic +tracery of bare branches against the wintry sky and furnish a series +of beautiful contrasts, from the earliest tender bud to the last sere +autumn leaf. And the ferns! Did the Great Artist have any left after +planting the fence-corners, roadsides and deep woods of Peterboro? +Overarch these features with a fair dome of fleece-scattered blue and +waft abroad throughout the place a succession of mountain breezes, +ozone charged, and you have a place to live and work and grow young +in. + +MacDowell thought that the fine arts were supplemental, each of the +other, and wished to include them all in his scheme, so well-built +rustic studios, equipped to suit the needs of the occupant, are being +placed at intervals on advantageous sites in the woods, tree-screened +and far enough apart to insure quiet and privacy, but sufficiently +near to give that comfortable sense of human comradeship and safety. +There is a common domicile at the foot of "Hill Crest," called "The +Lower House," presided over by a capable housekeeper, where the +workers sleep, breakfast, dine and recreate in the evening; but after +breakfast, provided with a simple lunch, each hies away happily to his +own studio to spend the day in alternate working and waiting on the +Muses in blissful solitude. This routine is broken sufficiently by +cups of tea with Mrs. MacDowell at "Hill Crest," rambles in garden and +wood, drives over the picturesque mountain roads and tramps to the +village, to prevent Jack from having any chance of becoming a dull +boy. + +The departed musician's own log cabin, already referred to as the +place where most of his later works were composed, was the first of +the studios to be built, and it would be difficult to imagine a more +perfect retreat for his purpose. + + "It looks out over the whispering treetops, + And faces the setting sun," + +which glints on the bark roof, now covered with a thick shower of +fragrant brown pine needles, giving the appearance of a pre-designed +thatch. + +Within, the personality of the absent composer lingers perceptibly, +and the two names--"Edward--Marian-1899"--written in his bold +chirography in the damp cement, when the cabin hearth was laid before +the open fireplace, tell a touching story of a union so real as to +make no plan complete, no realization of a long-cherished hope +perfect, that did not openly include his wife. + +These two were married in New York in 1884. A gifted South Carolina +aunt, who went to New York after the war and soon made her way to the +front rank of metropolitan teachers, gave to Marian Nevins, a +country-bred girl of York State, the only musical training she ever +had until she went abroad in 1880 to pursue her studies. Edward +MacDowell was at that time in high favor with his masters, Heymann and +Raff, at the Frankfort Conservatory, and she became his pupil. Her +industry and ambition aroused his interest in the development of her +talent, and he put her through a long season of severe drill and +study, imparting to her all his original methods and personal ideals, +as well as those acquired from his masters. It was hard work between +the gifted teacher and his promising pupil, with no idea of romance; +but with her preparations for her return to America, at the expiration +of three years, came the revelation to each of the meaning of the +impending separation, and in a twelvemonth after her departure he went +to New York and returned to Germany with his bride, settling at +Wiesbaden, where they spent some ideal years. While he began his +career as a composer in that inspiring atmosphere and won a hearing +and a verdict that opened the way to fame, it was after his return to +America that he did his best work, when he freed himself from the +chance of unconscious imitation and reflection and gave rein to +individuality and imagination in the Peterboro retreat. Weber says: +"To be a true artist you must be a true man." This tribute has been +paid MacDowell by his associates: they say he was a true man. +Nobleness has been called the chief characteristic alike of himself +and his music, with a simplicity that is ever the accompaniment of +real nobility. In playing, he had certain little tricks of using his +fingers that produced certain effects, but he did not teach these to +his pupils, preferring that they should use their own ingenuity, +explaining: "You might find a better way than mine," showing a modest +willingness to be taught, even by his own pupils, instead of always +posing as master. He never forced his personality, as a man or as a +musician, upon any one, choosing rather to encourage and foster +originality. + +Much is said and written about an American national music. I am +reminded of a colored mammy who was left in charge of "Marse John" and +the house while "Miss Mary an' de chillun" were away at the springs. +When the larder needed replenishing she would break the news to her +employer like this: "Marse John?" "Yes, Mammy!" "You know the flour?" +"Yes, Mammy!" "Well, _there ain't none_!" It is even so with our +national music--"there ain't none." + +Arthur Farwell, president of the American Music Society, thinks +differently. He says: "One must make a very broad study of the works +of eighty or one hundred American composers before he will begin to +perceive the indisputable American qualities arising in our music. The +endeavor not to repeat, parrot-like, the formulæ of the Old World has +driven many American composers to seek out new inventions and has led +to a freshness, in a considerable mass of American work, as in +MacDowell's, which may be said to be directly a product of American +conditions." + +Music is seldom a thing of nationality or locality. Early opera in +Germany was Italian and the French grand opera school was founded by a +Florentine. The style of music that appeals most keenly to the people +of a country or community influences largely the method and manner of +its native composers. Authors, musical and literary, write more often +to fill a demand, subjectively felt perhaps, than to create one or to +establish a form representative of their nation or section, though +occasionally, when the author is a genius and fearlessly gives +expression to his own divinity, regardless of precedent, he finds +himself responsible for a new order, though in that case the +individuality of the author is the leaven that leaveneth the lump, and +not the locality. + +We are only beginning, as a nation, to recognize music as an essential +to general culture. A new country must become familiar with and learn +to appreciate what has already been done along artistic lines before +it is capable of evolving its own type in any permanent, living +fashion. We have no people's music. "Give me, oh give me, the man who +sings at his work," said Carlyle, and I often think when I hear an +American laborer singing at his task that if dear old Carlyle were +only alive and I _could_ give him the unmelodious disturber of the +public peace, the pleasure would be _all mine_. American music, the +music of the people, is built upon the Puritan hymn tunes and savors +of the persecution that made the Pilgrim Fathers fly to the new land. + +Some think that the negro melodies should form the basis of our +American music; but why? The negro is an importation, not a native, +and if we want the real thing, it seems to me that we will have to +find it in the Indian melodies, but it will take artistic handling to +develop them from aboriginal simplicity to the intricacy necessary to +represent in any sense present-day, cosmopolitan America. + +Universality is just now the philosophical ideal, and it seems to me +that America, the composite nation, is the proper center from which +such a spirit should emanate. Why try to foster the limited local idea +with regard to music, or any artistic or intellectual pursuit? Why +encourage the production of distinctive American music in a country in +which there is not even a distinctive type of face or mode of speech? +Here is a Virginian, descended from an American Indian and an English +colonist, living next door to a Plymouth Rock Yankee whose husband is +a French Canadian. Across the street is a German-American born in the +Middle West, who is married to a Californian of Spanish lineage. My +cook is an African, yours is Chinese and perhaps your housemaid is +Scandinavian, your chauffeur Irish, and so on. Music, to be effective +in such a patchwork civilization as this, would have to be _simply +music_--universal, composite, international. + +MacDowell has created a typical music, typical of _himself_, not of +any locality, and he wished it to be judged as _music_, not as +_American_ music, and the justice of his desire cannot be gainsaid. +Recalling all of the influences of inherited and natural temperament, +education, foreign environment and American experience, jealous as we +are of his genius, we must admit that he caught in his productions the +complexity of his time. His music is universal and reflects the genius +of his contemporaries, as well as that of the older masters, +impregnated with his individual creativeness. He had seeing eyes and +hearing ears, and realizing the eternal principle of rhythm and the +universality of tone, he caught the keynote of everything related to +him in the outer world, with its corresponding relation in the inner +or unseen realms, producing compositions that are complete in form, +accurate in intellectual grasp and spiritually prophetic. + + He fashioned his own wreath of immortelles, + With matchless skill. + Tones lent themselves with subtle eagerness + To do his will. + Repeat them as his genius did design, + His pow'r devise; + No higher tribute to his name and fame + From us could rise. + + + + +POETICAL INTERPRETATIONS + + +By ELIZABETH FRY PAGE + + + + +TO MACDOWELL + + Now, in the darkness, mute, from hour to hour, + Sits one who lov'd all life, and from the strings + Of well-tuned harp brought sounds of common things, + And sang of sea and wood and tree and flow'r. + His task all done, fled usefulness and pow'r, + Through the deep shade his uncurbed fancy wings, + While with his fame his proud land loudly rings, + And praise falls on his work in lavish show'r. + + The rosemary we bring, and no rude hand + The laurel would withhold, the plaudits stay. + For him is seen the magic circled wand + That to creative genius points the way. + His music's bold, true note Time's test will stand. + His age in art begins with cloudless day. + + + +A.D. 1620 + + Exiled from home, for sake of faith held dear, + To distant shores the Pilgrim Fathers turned. + Their grief-stung hearts for Freedom's blessing yearned, + Where persecution's lash they need not fear. + In stately ships they sailed the ocean drear, + And more of trial and of hardship learned; + But in their loyal bosoms still there burned + Religious zeal that lent heroic cheer. + + One hundred souls from Mother England came, + And many days fared on a storm-tossed sea, + Men, women, children, to be known to Fame + For braving death for sacred Liberty. + To our bleak, shelt'ring port they gave a name, + And marked an epoch in our history. + + + +SONG + + A merry song the pilgrim sang + To check the sigh of pain, + At thought of leaving his dear home + He ne'er might see again. + 'Twas o-ho-ho and ah-ha-ha, + He laughed and sang alway; + When comrades' eyes were filled with tears, + Or sad heads turned away. + + A cheery song, a merry song, + As o'er Life's sea we sail, + Will send a thrill of courage new + To hearts about to fail. + So sound a note, oh singer brave, + Whate'er your own soul's pain; + When time repeats its echo sweet, + 'Twill bless your life again. + + + +IN DEEP WOODS + + A solitary soul, I walk at eve + Without the village walls, and in the deep + And sacred hush of woods, where fairies sleep, + Calm Nature soothes my senses, and I live + In realms that only creatures can conceive, + Who with their holy guardian spirits keep + Firm faith, and into loving arms I creep, + And mundane cares no more my spirit grieve. + + Cool breezes blow about me, and I hear + The mellow bells of distant churches chime. + I wander on, with never thought of fear, + Secure as in some peaceful heav'nly clime. + Majestic, mystic things seem close and clear, + And all my soul is wrapt in thoughts sublime. + + + +SHADOW DANCE + + We two sat watching the shadows dance, + (Long years had passed since we were young), + And o'er the days that had fled there hung + A mist of sorrow and sad romance. + + From out the gloom of an old stone wall, + The moon drew creatures of wondrous shape, + And none of our lost dreams could escape, + A cruel magic revealed them all. + + They bowed and swayed with a mocking grace, + And held our gaze as they flitted by; + Our deep-drawn breaths were our sole reply, + As one by one we beheld each face. + + A dream of Wealth and a dream of Fame, + And Love's dream, these were the foremost three, + Each with its shadowy train, till we + Could greet the phantoms of youth by name. + + Our faces paled and we trembled there, + Watching the shadows dance on the wall; + Wealth, Fame and Love--we had missed them all, + And Sorrow's chalice had been our share. + + But there was hope and we still had life, + And hearts are brave that the years have tried; + We looked in each other's eyes and sighed, + Sad, pain-filled eyes, but free of strife. + + Dance on, gaunt shadows, beside the wall, + We shrink from you in your cruel mirth; + But what are _you_ and the dreams of Earth? + Our hard-won peace is worth them all. + + + +AT AN OLD TRYSTING-PLACE + + Where, dearest, fare thy feet this summer eve? + Hast found a pasture green in which to tread, + Beside refreshing waters art thou led, + Content beyond my powers to conceive? + Does overflowing cup thy thirst relieve, + With princely feast hast thou thy hunger fed, + Uplifted high is thine anointed head, + Among thy kind dost thou esteem receive? + + I pray 'tis so; and evermore shall be, + That year by year thy honors may increase, + No shadow darken thy prosperity, + Nor treach'rous pitfall mar thy way of peace. + My loving eyes would always joy to see + Thy path lie fair until thy journey cease. + + + +TO A WATER LILY + + This is her bed! + Dip the oars lightly, + Guide the craft rightly, + Where her sweet head + Nestles so calmly. + + What says her heart, + Fragrant and golden? + In its depths holden, + With maiden art, + Whose image hath she? + + Dare I disturb + Fancies so tender, + E'en to surrender? + Better to curb + Self for her peace. + + Dream on, my flow'r! + Eyes have caressed thee, + I have confessed me, + In this still hour. + Will she requite me? + + + +TOLD AT SUNSET + + Upon the mountain's top we pensive stood, + The day was waning and the sun drooped low; + Long shadows fell across the vale below, + And deepened as they reached the distant wood. + The sky seemed in arm's reach: in holy mood, + The trees stretched forth their boughs as to bestow + A vesper blessing, ere we turned to go. + Like feathered mother hovering her brood, + Gray twilight o'er the landscape spread her wings. + I looked into your eyes: in their clear glow, + There dwelt the light that altar candles throw + On imaged saint and penitent who clings + To God, whose likeness such pure beings show. + The strength'ning peace that contemplation brings, + Obliterating trace of earthly things, + Wrapt you in radiant aura, safe from woe. + The path became a long cathedral aisle, + The sinking sun, the Host to bow before + With folded hands and rev'rently adore, + The zephyrs wafting incense sweet the while. + There was a far-off priest, with gentle smile, + Whose parting benediction seemed to pour + Upon us, from the verge of some blest shore, + To which our ling'ring steps he would beguile. + An organ pealed from somewhere in the heights + Above us, and a sweet-voiced chorus rang + A "Nunc Dimittis," and from caverns sang + In echo all the list'ning mountain wights. + Uniting fervently in their "amen," + We stood a moment in the dark'ning gray; + In silence, as the knowing only may, + And then, refreshed, turned to our tasks again. + + + +TO A WILD ROSE + + Awake, wild rose, lift up your lovely face + And smile a welcome sweet to one whose days + Were spent of yore in rose-embowered ways, + Where lovingly he marveled at your grace + And found in music lore for you a place, + Telling in tones the world heard with amaze, + How fair you were to his inspiréd gaze. + A grieving people lost him for a space, + And 'round his darkened home there hung a band + Of messengers, half-dreading, day by day, + Lest they should bear sad tidings o'er the land. + But now, as Nature wakes, joy hath full sway. + MacDowell lives! Grim death could not withstand + The tide of loving thought that flowed his way. + + + +THE SPIRIT CALL + +(_Celtic myth: "The ghosts of Fathers, they say, call away the souls +of their race, while they behold them lonely in the midst of woe." +"Erin's clouds are hung 'round with ghosts."_--OSSIAN.) + + I go: my father's spirit calls! + From his gray cloud beholding, + He sees how thickly sorrow falls, + My lonely path enfolding. + + So near he comes: I see him well: + He beckons, smiling, pleading! + I cannot in this sad world dwell, + When he is drawing, leading. + + My heart is sore, he loves me dear, + My soul is weary, weary! + Father, I come, naught holds me here: + Thou lov'st, and life is dreary! + + Bend lower, cloud, his spirit's home, + My helpless form to cover! + A gasp, a sigh, one faint, low breath, + And all life's woes are over. + + + +A DESERTED FARM + + Seeking a lodge remote from men, + A place for rest and labor, + Where I might inspiration gain, + Dame Nature for close neighbor, + + I came on a deserted farm, + By forest deep surrounded; + 'Twas mine, by ev'ry subtle charm, + I saw, with joy unbounded. + + I wandered through its empty halls, + And 'mong its spreading acres, + Where birds and bees and frisky squirrels + Were undisturbed caretakers. + + What sturdy youth and maid demure + Within that garden olden, + Their vows of love and constancy + Pledged in the sunset golden? + + What lady hands in lilac hedge + Or tansy bed went gleaning? + Who placed that rusty flintlock there, + Against the stone fence leaning? + + The very nails within your walls + Handwrought, with skill, proclaim you + A relic of colonial days, + And home of comfort name you. + + The spinning-wheels, in attic hid, + Tell me of busy fingers; + And 'round the farm, long tenantless, + An air of home still lingers. + + Of bygone days you speak to me, + With all your ling'ring treasures; + You summon musings of the past, + And promise future pleasures. + + My Sleeping Beauty, I'm your Prince, + At my kiss you will waken + To fuller life than e'er you knew, + Before you were forsaken. + + The great of earth will gather here, + 'Twill be the home of Muses; + Thy beauty and thy peacefulness + A wondrous charm diffuses. + + I have a dream that years ahead, + From out your humble portals + Will issue music, art and song, + To bless aspiring mortals. + + And mayhap when the eyes of men + Turn toward you lovingly, + Some gentle heart will breathe a prayer, + Or sing a song for me. + + + +IN MEMORIAM + + Out of the night and the silence, + That held him in pitiless thrall, + Came a gleam and a song of glory, + And his spirit answered the call. + +January 23, 1908 + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13767 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..46b793f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #13767 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/13767) diff --git a/old/13767-8.txt b/old/13767-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..19ee343 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13767-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1456 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Edward MacDowell, by Elizabeth Fry Page + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Edward MacDowell + +Author: Elizabeth Fry Page + +Release Date: October 16, 2004 [eBook #13767] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDWARD MACDOWELL*** + + +E-text prepared by David Newman, Keith M. Eckrich, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +EDWARD MACDOWELL + +His Work and Ideals + +by + +ELIZABETH FRY PAGE + +With Poetical Interpretations by the Author + +New York + + + + + + + +Dedicated to MRS. ALINE REESE BLONDNER + +Founder and Honorary President of the MacDowell Club of Nashville, +Tennessee. + + + + + +CONTENTS + +PREFACE + +EDWARD MACDOWELL + His Work and Ideals + +POETICAL INTERPRETATIONS + + To MacDowell + A. D. 1620 + Song + In Deep Woods + Shadow Dance + At an Old Trysting-Place + To a Water Lily + Told at Sunset + To a Wild Rose + The Spirit Call + A Deserted Farm + In Memoriam + + + + +PREFACE + + + +This is not merely an appreciation of Edward MacDowell as a man and a +composer, but a study of the influences and natural endowments that +combined to produce his style, a comparison of his work with that of +others who achieved fame in other branches of the fine arts, all of +which he felt were closely allied and supplemental, and a glance at +his ideals and their evolution at Peterboro. + +Most of his compositions are written around some poetic idea and are +so suggestive and appealing to the imagination that in studying them +the native poetic fancy is easily aroused; but the full effect is lost +to the casual hearer who is not familiar with the theme. The +accompanying poems are interpretations of some of his best-known piano +numbers, based upon the briefly indicated poetic idea upon which they +are founded, reinforced by a careful intellectual study of each +composition and its appeal to the individual creative faculty of the +author. + +The sonnet to MacDowell was written at the beginning of the two +darkened years preceding his death, when he forgot that there was such +a thing as music. + +"A.D. 1620" and "Song" are from the "Sea Pieces." The former describes +the sailing of the galleon bearing the Pilgrim Fathers to America. The +"Song," which is distinctly Irish in its melody, seems to me to be +sung by a lad on board the galleon, who sings and whistles to keep up +the courage of his fellow-pilgrims, thereby forgetting his own pain. + +The "Shadow Dance" is written three notes to two, and this difficult +musical form is represented by the three shadows dancing before two +people. "A Deserted Farm" is a lyric description of the now beautiful +"Hill Crest" as he found it. "The Spirit Call" is suggested by the +Celtic vein of mystery and haunting sadness pervading most of the +MacDowell music. + +The sonnet "To a Wild Rose" was inspired by a rumor from the +musician's sick room that his night had passed and he would recover; +but this was a false hope, and it was not long until he was sleeping +on a green hill-side at Peterboro, his resting-place, in the grandeur +of its simplicity, suggesting the modest, child-hearted, nature-loving +man who had passed on beyond earth's discord. + +The other poems in this little collection speak for themselves, and +all are offered as a handful of rosemary to one who ever harkened to +the simplest strain.--E.F.P. + + + + +EDWARD MACDOWELL + + + +HIS WORK AND IDEALS + + + +_"Late explorers say they have found some nations that have no God; +but I have not read of any that had no music." "Music means harmony, +harmony means love, love means--God."_--SIDNEY LANIER. + +"Music is love in search of a word," said the same poet-musician. He +was born full of the music and the love, and so was enabled to find +and transmit to the world the undying word. + +One cannot be a true poet, it seems to me, without at least an abiding +love and sympathetic appreciation of the finest in music, or a great +musician without a love of poetry and a responsiveness to its +witchery. The two arts are interdependent and well nigh inseparable. A +great musician may compose a song without words, but sooner or later +there will be born a poet-soul who, hearing the song, will be +irresistibly impelled to supply the words. On the other hand, many of +the greatest musical compositions we have were inspired, like most of +MacDowell's, by some poet's lines, a single figure, sentence or stanza +furnishing the theme of oratorio, cantata, opera or ballad. Schubert's +genius could be fired at any time, even under the most adverse +conditions, by a beautiful poem, and many writers have received the +inspiration for their masterpieces under the influence of music. + +In some compositions combining both words and music, one will be very +much the inferior of the other, and the thoughtful student or listener +can but regret the discrepancy. Perhaps the words will be imposing and +the musical setting trivial, or the music rich and full of color, but +the words meaningless and inadequate. MacDowell's songs are +satisfying. In his work he reminds one very forcibly of Sidney Lanier, +whose genius was perfectly balanced. His music was full of poetry and +his poetry ran over with music. His was an harmonious nature and no +amount of external discord could cause him to lose his keynote. +Applying his own beautiful words to himself: + + "His song was only living aloud, + His work a singing with his hands." + +Lanier played beautifully upon a silver flute, which he lovingly +describes as "a petal on a harmony." He was a member of the Peabody +Symphony orchestra of Baltimore, and Asger Hamerik, his director for +six years, says of him: "In his hands the flute no longer remained a +mere material instrument, but was transformed into a voice that set +heavenly harmonies into vibration. Its tones developed colors, warmth +and a low sweetness of unspeakable poetry. His conception of music was +not reached by an analytic study of note by note, but was intuitive +and spontaneous, like a woman's reason." In 1878 he played a flute +concerto at a symphony concert, and the director said of him: "His +tall, handsome, manly presence, his flute breathing noble sorrows, +noble joys, the orchestra softly responding. The audience was +spellbound. Such distinction, such refinement! He stood the master, +the genius." + +In studying MacDowell, one is reminded at every turn of this dual +genius. Like Lanier, his message is being better understood every +year, and now that he is gone, "fulfillment is dropping on a come-true +dream." + +MacDowell had great advantages over Lanier in his early life in +freedom from financial worry. In his youth he was privileged to travel +and search until he found his own real masters, in the Frankfort +Conservatory, where he studied piano with Heymann and composition with +Raff. At Weimar he met Liszt, who recognized his ability and accorded +him such unstinted praise that he was invited to play his first piano +suite before the Allgemeiner Deutscher Musik-Verein at its nineteenth +annual convention, held at Zurich in July, 1882. Both the composition +and his rendition of it won enthusiastic appreciation and applause. + +Lanier had a hard, brave struggle to maintain his ideals in the face +of a continually thwarting fate that would have caused many a man, +stronger physically than he, to become discouraged, despairing. Ill +health, poverty and lack of appreciation of his life work had not the +power to destroy his optimism. He bravely waged an unequal combat with +the three, when many a man would have fallen on his own sword to end +the bitter struggle with either one of them. From out the gloom he +sang thus: + + "The dark hath many dear avails, + The dark distils divinest dews; + The dark is rich with nightingales, + With dreams and with the heavenly Muse." + +Just at the awakening of public appreciation of his work and +recognition of his right to rank as America's greatest composer of +music, MacDowell died to the world of men through a mental collapse +brought on by over-work, and for two years, forgetting that there was +such a thing as music, the great tone-poet dwelt in a soundless world. +Sorrow for such a fate at the zenith of a career of so much promise +was world-wide, and many hoped that he would emerge from the dark, +after a time, with his genius enriched by long subjective communion +with the "heavenly Muse"; but he had dwelt too long in the abstract +world of sound and had heard the music of the spheres until earth +tones became fainter and fainter and finally ceased altogether. + +Then, after having admitted his greatness during those two shadowed +years, when the hand of death rang down the curtain on his +earth-drama, his contemporaries began to examine more critically into +the why and wherefore of the decision that accorded him leadership. + +A well-known critic calls him the American Grieg, but while applauding +the fanciful style of the Norwegian, one often hears MacDowell accused +of being merely capricious. But what is caprice? + +Bishop Trench reminds us in his famous treatise that the word is +derived from _capra_, "a goat," and represents, in a picturesque +manner, a mental movement as unaccountable, as little to be calculated +on beforehand, as the springs and bounds of that whimsical animal. + +The work of MacDowell certainly has the characteristic vigor and +vividness, the unstudied activity, the unexpected leaps and springs +that the derivation of the word "caprice" suggests. And, if one cares +for mysticism, it is interesting to know that according to the +teachings of the ancient science of astrology, which is having a +considerable revival at present, the composer is entitled to +unconventional methods and an unusual combination of qualities, as he +was born on the cusp between the zodiacal signs of Sagittarius and +Capricornus. The latter sign produces people who will work well +independently, but are very restless when under orders or hampered by +rules and regulations. They love freedom, are fine entertainers, have +little self-esteem, are inclined to be either on the heights or in the +depths, are excellent musicians and lovers of harmony and beauty. They +are often victims of over-work because of the determination to make a +brilliant success of what they undertake and of their lack of judgment +in regard to their powers of endurance. Sagittarius people are +characterized by directness of speech and act. They are of varied +talents, very musical and turn naturally to the spiritual side of +life. They belong to the prophetic realm and see wonderful visions, +but are no idle dreamers, being always mentally and physically active. +Whatever there may be in the science of astrology, one who is familiar +with the life and character of Edward MacDowell cannot fail to be +impressed by the correctness of this delineation, so far as it goes. + +But his style of composition is not, to my mind, capricious. It is the +result of many interesting influences of heredity, culture and +individual temperament and application. When he went to Paris, at +fifteen, he was a pupil of Marmontel in piano and of Savard in theory +and composition; but young as he was, the French school did not +satisfy him. He heard Nicholas Rubinstein play while in Paris, and +became fired with enthusiasm by his style and impressed with the idea +that in Germany he would find his own. His father was of Quaker +extraction and had decided artistic ability, but his pious parents +would not permit him to indulge even the thought of cultivating or +pursuing so trivial a calling. Edward inherited his father's talent, +and while in the French capital, during a period of despondency over +his slow progress with the language, he made a caricature of the +teacher of his French class on a leaf of his exercise book. In some +way it fell under the tutor's eye, and it was of such excellence that +it aroused new interest in the gifted hoy instead of indignation. The +teacher showed it to one of the leading artists in Paris, who implored +young MacDowell to leave off music and study art, assuring him that he +had unusual ability. But the lad also had a well-developed +discriminative faculty. He had chosen his ideal and could not he +persuaded to forsake it, preferring tone-pictures to those made with +brushes and palette. + +Besides the Quaker strain, with its tendency toward dignity, +simplicity and openness to the leadings of spirit, he owes to his +Celtic lineage the mystic, poetic, dashing, unsophisticated vein that +might be easily mistaken for caprice, and to his American birth is +due, no doubt, many of the more solid, practical characteristics that +combined to produce the proper balance. + +Naturally, he was deeply influenced by his foreign teachers and also +by his favorites among the great masters whose works he studied. He is +said to have adored Wagner, with Tschaikowsky and Grieg for lesser +musical loves. To what extent he drew upon Wagner no one can say, but +that he did so, either unconsciously or with that imitation that is +sincerest flattery is very evident. Many passages suggest Wagner, and +one can easily imagine the ardent young American worshiping the great +German master, as he in turn had adored Beethoven. + +Liszt used to say: "I only value people by what they are to Wagner." +There is no estimating the value of Wagner to those who came after +him. He was not satisfied, we are told, with either the melody of the +Italians or the rhetorical excesses of the French. The music of +Beethoven was his ideal, and the dramas of Shakespeare, whose work, to +his mind, compared with the early Greek plays, was like a scene in +nature in comparison with a piece of architecture. Mme. de Staël +called beautiful architecture "frozen music." It was just this +architectural, frozen, congealed condition that Wagner wished to +overcome, without running into any frivolities. He was in every sense +a living, breathing _man_, and his work is pervaded by this virile, +life-like quality. In his first youthful attempt at drama, forty-two +persons perished in the development of the plot and most of them had +to be brought back as ghosts to enable him to complete the piece. Now, +however, one is haunted by the faithfulness to life of his creations, +not by the ghosts of his slaughtered victims, and an aspiring young +composer who adored him could not help imbibing some of his power. + +Wagner thought that the musician should write his own lines in opera +or song, and conceived and mastered a new form, taking poetry into +music just as Sidney Lanier took music into poetry in his "Science of +English Verse." Wagner also thought that because of the exactness of +musical science, a composer became practically the actor of each of +his parts, while the dramatic author could never be sure what meaning +would be read into his lines. + +The native poetic temperament of MacDowell and his almost invariable +use of lines, figures or stanzas of poetry as inspiration in +composition leads one to believe that he would have attempted opera +when he had grown to it. This was one of the few musical forms that he +did not essay. Perhaps he was of the opinion of Beethoven, as Wagner +conceived him, who said when speaking of opera: "The man who created a +_true_ musical drama would be looked upon as a fool--and would _be_ +one in very truth if he did not keep such a thing to himself, but +wanted to bring it before the public." + +MacDowell is frequently called a mystic, and most of his efforts +breathe the Celtic spirit, which is full of melancholy, romance and +tenderness. Ghosts creep through their pages and wandering, restless +spirits call from his most characteristic harmonies. Wagner was a +mystic at sixteen, dwelling largely in the abstract, but grew out of +this, through varied experience, into an active philosopher, with +every objective faculty on the alert, and thus escaped, perhaps, the +fate of MacDowell. + +The literary loves of MacDowell, who supplied him with such a wealth +of inspiration, were Goethe, Heine, Shakespeare, Tennyson and Keats, +and he was himself a poet of no mean ability. Lawrence Gilman says, in +his thorough analysis of his work, that, writing as he usually does +from some poetic theme, the effect is lost if the hearer does not know +the idea around which the composition is woven. For instance, one is +apt to take "A.D. 1620" for a funeral dirge, just to hear it without +knowledge of the subject, as it somewhat resembles the Chopin Funeral +March; but the title suggests something historic, and knowing the +lines that inspired it, one can easily distinguish the waves and the +majestic movement of a great ship putting out to sea. + +Naturally, MacDowell drew heavily upon the German poets, Goethe and +Heine, in his earlier works, as he began his serious study of +composition in Germany. Equally naturally did he turn to Tennyson, as +they are alike in psychic development and in their powers of +interpretation of nature. Recently, in Lincoln, England, a new statue +of Tennyson was unveiled. It is by Watts, and represents the poet clad +in a cape overcoat, with slouch hat in hand and his dog at his side. +He and his dumb friend have been strolling in the woods and his head +is bent over an uprooted flower held lovingly in his hand. Underneath +are the lines which inspired the striking pose: + + "Flower in the crannied wall, + I pluck you out of the crannies, + I hold you here, root and all, in my hand. + Little flower--but if I could understand + What you are, root and all, and all in all, + I should know what God and man is." + +It is a beautiful conception, the big, tall man contemplating thus +reverently, with bared head, the tender epitome of life. The dog, with +head upraised, points a comprehending nose in the direction of his +poet-master's find, and looks as if he longed to help him unravel the +mystery. MacDowell would adore this piece of sculpture, for he sought +the secret of life in flower and brook and landscape, in mountain and +vale and sea. + +Gilman compares the "Sea Pieces" to Walt Whitman and Swinburne. Like +Whitman, MacDowell is no strict adherent to set forms, placing +inspiration ahead of tradition. Some of his most beautiful +compositions are very brief. Poe claims that there is no such thing in +existence as a "long poem." Since a poem only deserves the name in +proportion to its power to excite and elevate the soul, and a +sustained condition of soul excitement and elevation is a psychic +impossibility, the oft-used phrase is a contradiction in terms. +Applying this idea to the familiar piano compositions of MacDowell, +they have every right to be called "tone poems." Poetry is the +color-work of the mind, as distinguished from its sculpture and +architecture, which represent mere form. There is more than form in +the compositions under consideration; the tinge of color is +everywhere, the wave of poetry that produces soul excitement and +elevation, from signature to final chord. While he handles a subject +broadly, as an impressionist, accomplishing striking effects with a +few bold, characteristic strokes, MacDowell still works out his tone +picture with considerable detail, carefully indicating the results he +wishes to achieve. He reminds one in his methods of Corot, the great +landscape painter. He will tell you to play a passage "very tenderly," +or "somewhat savagely," or "daintily and joyously," not being content +with the usual color terms. When he is loud, he is very, very loud, +and in the same composition will have a passage marked with four p's. +He likes contrasts and uses them very effectively. His music has the +charm of infinite variety, but there is an insistent note of +sombreness pervading most of it that is heard even above the majesty +of the "Sea Pieces," the beauty of the "Woodland Sketches" and the +humor of the "Marionettes." In the "New England Idyls" there is a +plaintive little wail, "From a Log Cabin," the rustic retreat in the +woods at Peterboro, his "house of dreams untold," where MacDowell did +most of his later composition. It speaks of solitude, isolation and a +moan of the wind is heard in the tree tops, with an answering moan +from the heart of a man who may have had some premonition of his fate. + +He is the first composer of world-note since Brahms who did his best +work for the piano. Others have used that instrument as a means +merely, reserving their crowning efforts for the orchestra, where it +is, of course, far less difficult to achieve fine effects. While he +wrote successful orchestral suites, he dignified the single instrument +by devoting his first thought to piano literature. + +His humorous suite, "The Marionettes," very strongly suggests Jerome +K. Jerome's "Stageland," in which the villain is represented as an +individual who always wears a clean collar and smokes a cigarette. The +hero approaches the heroine from the rear and "breathes his attachment +down her back," and the poor heroine is pursued by the relentless +storm, while on the other side of the street the sun is shining. +MacDowell portrays the coquettish "Soubrette," the longing "Lover," +the strong-charactered "Witch," the gay "Clown," the sinister +"Villain" and the simple, tender "Sweetheart," with a Prologue +indicating "sturdy good humor" and an Epilogue to be rendered +"musingly, with deep feeling." The suite is very attractive and in +sharp contrast to his romantic, heroic and lyric work. + +Another potent factor in the formation of MacDowell's style of +composition was his love of nature. No one has put truer brooks, +birds, flowers, trees, meadows or sea into tone. Whenever he "loafed +and invited his soul," the tired, city-worn world reaped the benefit. +His lesser piano compositions may be, in a sense, considered in the +light of a diary. We are with him in a fisherman's hut, in deep woods, +on a deserted farm, in the haunted house, by the lily pond, in +mid-ocean, by a meadow brook, by smoldering embers, always seeing the +picture, hearing the voices or feeling the atmosphere that appealed to +his artist mind. The charm of common things, the ever-present beauty +and harmony in all forms of life, supplied him with endless +inspiration. + +In portraying nature, he is in no sense a copyist. He does not +describe a scene, an occasion or an object, but suggests it, being an +adept in the use of musical metaphor. Robert Louis Stevenson says that +the one art in literature is to omit. "If I knew how to omit," says +he, "I should ask no other knowledge." Painters tell us that the +highest evidence of skill in transferring nature to canvas is to avoid +too much detail, and they squint up their eyes in order not to see too +much. These standards prove MacDowell the artist. He does not make the +mistake that so many preachers and public teachers do of presuming +upon the ignorance or stupidity of his hearers, but leaves something +to their imagination and inner artistic senses. + +There is a reverence of nature, a depth of love that amounts almost to +sadness, in this man's work that stamps him the pantheist in the +highest sense. This is, I think, a common characteristic of the +mystic. Their consciousness of the oneness of all life is so perfect +that God is seen even in its lowest forms. Sermons are read in stones +and books in the running brooks. This suggests MacDowell's kinship to +Shakespeare, Ruskin, Emerson and Thoreau; but it is a limitless +analogy. All genius, in the end, is of one blood, and MacDowell is +unquestionably a genius. + +When one is entering upon a literary career, the first injunction is +to "acquire a style." "But how?" asks the aspirant. Some say by +becoming familiar with the forms of expression of the best authors, +and such advise that you read without stint. Others bid you write, +write incessantly about everything under the sun, until by long +practice you evolve a style of your own, unhampered in its originality +by the memory of the achievements of others resulting from much +reading. There are still others who advise an equal division of time +between study of the classics and self-expression. The latter is the +most natural and common method and leads in time to the goal. Perhaps +the same is true of musical style. Technical skill, accuracy, +interpretation and appreciation come from studying and performing the +works of others; then if one aspires to original work, let him +compose, essaying any and everything until his own peculiar bent is +discovered, unless it forces itself upon him with the insistence of +destiny from the outset. + +While the critics have admitted the freshness, originality and general +excellence of MacDowell's work and marveled over his versatility, his +shorter piano pieces and songs are as yet most popular in the making +of programmes. However, Henry T. Finck says of his sonatas: "As +regards the sonatas, I ought to bear MacDowell a decided grudge. After +I had written and argued a hundred times that the sonata form was +'played out,' he went to work and wrote four sonatas to confute me. To +be sure, I might have my revenge and say they are 'not sonatas'; but +they are no more unorthodox than the sonatas of Chopin, Schumann, +Liszt and Grieg, though they have a freedom of their own which is +captivating. They are brimful of individuality and charm; they will be +heard often in the concert halls of the future." + +The "Sonata Tragica" might have been written of the composer himself, +and "The Heroica" could easily have been inspired by his wife, instead +of by the Arthur legends, for she is a knightly soul, combining to a +most unusual degree the artistic temperament, womanly tenderness and +charm, with a chivalrous sort of courage, suggesting Tennyson's lines: + + "My woman-soldier, gallant Kate, + As pure and true as blades of steel." + +These are busy days for her at Peterboro, where she is daily striving +to put the MacDowell ideals into permanent and practical effect. The +plan is most appealing and can, perhaps, be better understood by +contrast, if a little insight is given into a state of things, the +amelioration of which is the purpose of the project. + +You are invited, then, to step into a neat and attractive modern +apartment kitchen, say three years ago. The grocery boy had just left. +Everything was there, and of unusually good quality--crisp lettuce, +golden oranges, the inevitable loaf of whole wheat bread, the sugar +and lemons--and as the housekeeper compared the articles with the +grocer's book which she held in her hand, she gave a start. Some one +across the way was playing "To a Wild Rose." Yes, it was Wednesday, +and a glance at the kitchen clock revealed the fact that in ninety +minutes the MacDowell Club would be called to order, and she had +promised a poem for the programme. Shades of Sappho! What was to be +done? There had been no time in the two weeks since the last meeting, +between housekeeping, mending, grinding out of pot-boilers and +countless interruptions, to give the matter a thought, and she had +never been known to forget such a promise. + +Pegasus neighed reassuringly, and seizing the stub of a pencil +attached to the grocer's book, after a moment of concentration, in +which she closed her eyes to shut out the material vision before her, +she scribbled rapidly on a few blank pages in the back of the plebeian +record. After several readings of the lines and sundry interlined +revisions, she tore out the sheets, blessed Pegasus for coming in +under the wire so nobly, and hurried away to dress. At the appointed +time, sheepishly trying to conceal her unpoetic manuscript, which +there had been no time to copy, behind a lace fan, she arose, flushed +but sustaining her reputation for reliability as a programme feature. + +'Twas for like-conditioned people, aspiring to work out their dreams +in words, tones, color or clay in congenial surroundings, undisturbed +by any domestic or other distraction or inharmony, that Edward +MacDowell conceived the idea now being carried out at Peterboro, New +Hampshire. + +The plan was not to provide a rest-cure or moderate-priced summer home +for broken-down musicians, artists and writers, as many seem to think, +but to give those at the very height of their productiveness a chance +for undisturbed work, under the inspiration of nature in her most +alluring guise, and association, after work hours, with such rare +souls as could arouse higher aspiration by thought interchange and +comparison of ideals. + +Ask the average workman along any artistic line what he would rather +have than anything else and he is very sure to tell you, "Leisure for +work!" And after that, the strongest desire is for the companionship +of some one who really understands what he is trying to do. + +His good angel must have led Edward MacDowell to Peterboro. I can +imagine no other setting so perfect for the last act of his life, with +its shifting scenes. Whatever else the great power back of the +universe may be, He is the Master Artist, and in the making of this +village of enchantment He seems to have gathered together all His most +beautiful materials and combined them with lavish hand. Quaint and +picturesque houses are sprinkled over the foot-hills of the Monadnock +Mountains. Green fields go down to meet clear streams of placid water, +where trailing vines and overhanging boughs make charming shadows. The +sun sparkles against great gray boulders, lichen-grown, and upon +yellow sand dunes. There are pines, larches, firs, spruces and all +their sturdy kinspeople, scattered freely that the eye may at any +season be gladdened by the sight of living green, and interspersed +with these are deciduous trees of every kind, to make a fantastic +tracery of bare branches against the wintry sky and furnish a series +of beautiful contrasts, from the earliest tender bud to the last sere +autumn leaf. And the ferns! Did the Great Artist have any left after +planting the fence-corners, roadsides and deep woods of Peterboro? +Overarch these features with a fair dome of fleece-scattered blue and +waft abroad throughout the place a succession of mountain breezes, +ozone charged, and you have a place to live and work and grow young +in. + +MacDowell thought that the fine arts were supplemental, each of the +other, and wished to include them all in his scheme, so well-built +rustic studios, equipped to suit the needs of the occupant, are being +placed at intervals on advantageous sites in the woods, tree-screened +and far enough apart to insure quiet and privacy, but sufficiently +near to give that comfortable sense of human comradeship and safety. +There is a common domicile at the foot of "Hill Crest," called "The +Lower House," presided over by a capable housekeeper, where the +workers sleep, breakfast, dine and recreate in the evening; but after +breakfast, provided with a simple lunch, each hies away happily to his +own studio to spend the day in alternate working and waiting on the +Muses in blissful solitude. This routine is broken sufficiently by +cups of tea with Mrs. MacDowell at "Hill Crest," rambles in garden and +wood, drives over the picturesque mountain roads and tramps to the +village, to prevent Jack from having any chance of becoming a dull +boy. + +The departed musician's own log cabin, already referred to as the +place where most of his later works were composed, was the first of +the studios to be built, and it would be difficult to imagine a more +perfect retreat for his purpose. + + "It looks out over the whispering treetops, + And faces the setting sun," + +which glints on the bark roof, now covered with a thick shower of +fragrant brown pine needles, giving the appearance of a pre-designed +thatch. + +Within, the personality of the absent composer lingers perceptibly, +and the two names--"Edward--Marian-1899"--written in his bold +chirography in the damp cement, when the cabin hearth was laid before +the open fireplace, tell a touching story of a union so real as to +make no plan complete, no realization of a long-cherished hope +perfect, that did not openly include his wife. + +These two were married in New York in 1884. A gifted South Carolina +aunt, who went to New York after the war and soon made her way to the +front rank of metropolitan teachers, gave to Marian Nevins, a +country-bred girl of York State, the only musical training she ever +had until she went abroad in 1880 to pursue her studies. Edward +MacDowell was at that time in high favor with his masters, Heymann and +Raff, at the Frankfort Conservatory, and she became his pupil. Her +industry and ambition aroused his interest in the development of her +talent, and he put her through a long season of severe drill and +study, imparting to her all his original methods and personal ideals, +as well as those acquired from his masters. It was hard work between +the gifted teacher and his promising pupil, with no idea of romance; +but with her preparations for her return to America, at the expiration +of three years, came the revelation to each of the meaning of the +impending separation, and in a twelvemonth after her departure he went +to New York and returned to Germany with his bride, settling at +Wiesbaden, where they spent some ideal years. While he began his +career as a composer in that inspiring atmosphere and won a hearing +and a verdict that opened the way to fame, it was after his return to +America that he did his best work, when he freed himself from the +chance of unconscious imitation and reflection and gave rein to +individuality and imagination in the Peterboro retreat. Weber says: +"To be a true artist you must be a true man." This tribute has been +paid MacDowell by his associates: they say he was a true man. +Nobleness has been called the chief characteristic alike of himself +and his music, with a simplicity that is ever the accompaniment of +real nobility. In playing, he had certain little tricks of using his +fingers that produced certain effects, but he did not teach these to +his pupils, preferring that they should use their own ingenuity, +explaining: "You might find a better way than mine," showing a modest +willingness to be taught, even by his own pupils, instead of always +posing as master. He never forced his personality, as a man or as a +musician, upon any one, choosing rather to encourage and foster +originality. + +Much is said and written about an American national music. I am +reminded of a colored mammy who was left in charge of "Marse John" and +the house while "Miss Mary an' de chillun" were away at the springs. +When the larder needed replenishing she would break the news to her +employer like this: "Marse John?" "Yes, Mammy!" "You know the flour?" +"Yes, Mammy!" "Well, _there ain't none_!" It is even so with our +national music--"there ain't none." + +Arthur Farwell, president of the American Music Society, thinks +differently. He says: "One must make a very broad study of the works +of eighty or one hundred American composers before he will begin to +perceive the indisputable American qualities arising in our music. The +endeavor not to repeat, parrot-like, the formulæ of the Old World has +driven many American composers to seek out new inventions and has led +to a freshness, in a considerable mass of American work, as in +MacDowell's, which may be said to be directly a product of American +conditions." + +Music is seldom a thing of nationality or locality. Early opera in +Germany was Italian and the French grand opera school was founded by a +Florentine. The style of music that appeals most keenly to the people +of a country or community influences largely the method and manner of +its native composers. Authors, musical and literary, write more often +to fill a demand, subjectively felt perhaps, than to create one or to +establish a form representative of their nation or section, though +occasionally, when the author is a genius and fearlessly gives +expression to his own divinity, regardless of precedent, he finds +himself responsible for a new order, though in that case the +individuality of the author is the leaven that leaveneth the lump, and +not the locality. + +We are only beginning, as a nation, to recognize music as an essential +to general culture. A new country must become familiar with and learn +to appreciate what has already been done along artistic lines before +it is capable of evolving its own type in any permanent, living +fashion. We have no people's music. "Give me, oh give me, the man who +sings at his work," said Carlyle, and I often think when I hear an +American laborer singing at his task that if dear old Carlyle were +only alive and I _could_ give him the unmelodious disturber of the +public peace, the pleasure would be _all mine_. American music, the +music of the people, is built upon the Puritan hymn tunes and savors +of the persecution that made the Pilgrim Fathers fly to the new land. + +Some think that the negro melodies should form the basis of our +American music; but why? The negro is an importation, not a native, +and if we want the real thing, it seems to me that we will have to +find it in the Indian melodies, but it will take artistic handling to +develop them from aboriginal simplicity to the intricacy necessary to +represent in any sense present-day, cosmopolitan America. + +Universality is just now the philosophical ideal, and it seems to me +that America, the composite nation, is the proper center from which +such a spirit should emanate. Why try to foster the limited local idea +with regard to music, or any artistic or intellectual pursuit? Why +encourage the production of distinctive American music in a country in +which there is not even a distinctive type of face or mode of speech? +Here is a Virginian, descended from an American Indian and an English +colonist, living next door to a Plymouth Rock Yankee whose husband is +a French Canadian. Across the street is a German-American born in the +Middle West, who is married to a Californian of Spanish lineage. My +cook is an African, yours is Chinese and perhaps your housemaid is +Scandinavian, your chauffeur Irish, and so on. Music, to be effective +in such a patchwork civilization as this, would have to be _simply +music_--universal, composite, international. + +MacDowell has created a typical music, typical of _himself_, not of +any locality, and he wished it to be judged as _music_, not as +_American_ music, and the justice of his desire cannot be gainsaid. +Recalling all of the influences of inherited and natural temperament, +education, foreign environment and American experience, jealous as we +are of his genius, we must admit that he caught in his productions the +complexity of his time. His music is universal and reflects the genius +of his contemporaries, as well as that of the older masters, +impregnated with his individual creativeness. He had seeing eyes and +hearing ears, and realizing the eternal principle of rhythm and the +universality of tone, he caught the keynote of everything related to +him in the outer world, with its corresponding relation in the inner +or unseen realms, producing compositions that are complete in form, +accurate in intellectual grasp and spiritually prophetic. + + He fashioned his own wreath of immortelles, + With matchless skill. + Tones lent themselves with subtle eagerness + To do his will. + Repeat them as his genius did design, + His pow'r devise; + No higher tribute to his name and fame + From us could rise. + + + + +POETICAL INTERPRETATIONS + + +By ELIZABETH FRY PAGE + + + + +TO MACDOWELL + + Now, in the darkness, mute, from hour to hour, + Sits one who lov'd all life, and from the strings + Of well-tuned harp brought sounds of common things, + And sang of sea and wood and tree and flow'r. + His task all done, fled usefulness and pow'r, + Through the deep shade his uncurbed fancy wings, + While with his fame his proud land loudly rings, + And praise falls on his work in lavish show'r. + + The rosemary we bring, and no rude hand + The laurel would withhold, the plaudits stay. + For him is seen the magic circled wand + That to creative genius points the way. + His music's bold, true note Time's test will stand. + His age in art begins with cloudless day. + + + +A.D. 1620 + + Exiled from home, for sake of faith held dear, + To distant shores the Pilgrim Fathers turned. + Their grief-stung hearts for Freedom's blessing yearned, + Where persecution's lash they need not fear. + In stately ships they sailed the ocean drear, + And more of trial and of hardship learned; + But in their loyal bosoms still there burned + Religious zeal that lent heroic cheer. + + One hundred souls from Mother England came, + And many days fared on a storm-tossed sea, + Men, women, children, to be known to Fame + For braving death for sacred Liberty. + To our bleak, shelt'ring port they gave a name, + And marked an epoch in our history. + + + +SONG + + A merry song the pilgrim sang + To check the sigh of pain, + At thought of leaving his dear home + He ne'er might see again. + 'Twas o-ho-ho and ah-ha-ha, + He laughed and sang alway; + When comrades' eyes were filled with tears, + Or sad heads turned away. + + A cheery song, a merry song, + As o'er Life's sea we sail, + Will send a thrill of courage new + To hearts about to fail. + So sound a note, oh singer brave, + Whate'er your own soul's pain; + When time repeats its echo sweet, + 'Twill bless your life again. + + + +IN DEEP WOODS + + A solitary soul, I walk at eve + Without the village walls, and in the deep + And sacred hush of woods, where fairies sleep, + Calm Nature soothes my senses, and I live + In realms that only creatures can conceive, + Who with their holy guardian spirits keep + Firm faith, and into loving arms I creep, + And mundane cares no more my spirit grieve. + + Cool breezes blow about me, and I hear + The mellow bells of distant churches chime. + I wander on, with never thought of fear, + Secure as in some peaceful heav'nly clime. + Majestic, mystic things seem close and clear, + And all my soul is wrapt in thoughts sublime. + + + +SHADOW DANCE + + We two sat watching the shadows dance, + (Long years had passed since we were young), + And o'er the days that had fled there hung + A mist of sorrow and sad romance. + + From out the gloom of an old stone wall, + The moon drew creatures of wondrous shape, + And none of our lost dreams could escape, + A cruel magic revealed them all. + + They bowed and swayed with a mocking grace, + And held our gaze as they flitted by; + Our deep-drawn breaths were our sole reply, + As one by one we beheld each face. + + A dream of Wealth and a dream of Fame, + And Love's dream, these were the foremost three, + Each with its shadowy train, till we + Could greet the phantoms of youth by name. + + Our faces paled and we trembled there, + Watching the shadows dance on the wall; + Wealth, Fame and Love--we had missed them all, + And Sorrow's chalice had been our share. + + But there was hope and we still had life, + And hearts are brave that the years have tried; + We looked in each other's eyes and sighed, + Sad, pain-filled eyes, but free of strife. + + Dance on, gaunt shadows, beside the wall, + We shrink from you in your cruel mirth; + But what are _you_ and the dreams of Earth? + Our hard-won peace is worth them all. + + + +AT AN OLD TRYSTING-PLACE + + Where, dearest, fare thy feet this summer eve? + Hast found a pasture green in which to tread, + Beside refreshing waters art thou led, + Content beyond my powers to conceive? + Does overflowing cup thy thirst relieve, + With princely feast hast thou thy hunger fed, + Uplifted high is thine anointed head, + Among thy kind dost thou esteem receive? + + I pray 'tis so; and evermore shall be, + That year by year thy honors may increase, + No shadow darken thy prosperity, + Nor treach'rous pitfall mar thy way of peace. + My loving eyes would always joy to see + Thy path lie fair until thy journey cease. + + + +TO A WATER LILY + + This is her bed! + Dip the oars lightly, + Guide the craft rightly, + Where her sweet head + Nestles so calmly. + + What says her heart, + Fragrant and golden? + In its depths holden, + With maiden art, + Whose image hath she? + + Dare I disturb + Fancies so tender, + E'en to surrender? + Better to curb + Self for her peace. + + Dream on, my flow'r! + Eyes have caressed thee, + I have confessed me, + In this still hour. + Will she requite me? + + + +TOLD AT SUNSET + + Upon the mountain's top we pensive stood, + The day was waning and the sun drooped low; + Long shadows fell across the vale below, + And deepened as they reached the distant wood. + The sky seemed in arm's reach: in holy mood, + The trees stretched forth their boughs as to bestow + A vesper blessing, ere we turned to go. + Like feathered mother hovering her brood, + Gray twilight o'er the landscape spread her wings. + I looked into your eyes: in their clear glow, + There dwelt the light that altar candles throw + On imaged saint and penitent who clings + To God, whose likeness such pure beings show. + The strength'ning peace that contemplation brings, + Obliterating trace of earthly things, + Wrapt you in radiant aura, safe from woe. + The path became a long cathedral aisle, + The sinking sun, the Host to bow before + With folded hands and rev'rently adore, + The zephyrs wafting incense sweet the while. + There was a far-off priest, with gentle smile, + Whose parting benediction seemed to pour + Upon us, from the verge of some blest shore, + To which our ling'ring steps he would beguile. + An organ pealed from somewhere in the heights + Above us, and a sweet-voiced chorus rang + A "Nunc Dimittis," and from caverns sang + In echo all the list'ning mountain wights. + Uniting fervently in their "amen," + We stood a moment in the dark'ning gray; + In silence, as the knowing only may, + And then, refreshed, turned to our tasks again. + + + +TO A WILD ROSE + + Awake, wild rose, lift up your lovely face + And smile a welcome sweet to one whose days + Were spent of yore in rose-embowered ways, + Where lovingly he marveled at your grace + And found in music lore for you a place, + Telling in tones the world heard with amaze, + How fair you were to his inspiréd gaze. + A grieving people lost him for a space, + And 'round his darkened home there hung a band + Of messengers, half-dreading, day by day, + Lest they should bear sad tidings o'er the land. + But now, as Nature wakes, joy hath full sway. + MacDowell lives! Grim death could not withstand + The tide of loving thought that flowed his way. + + + +THE SPIRIT CALL + +(_Celtic myth: "The ghosts of Fathers, they say, call away the souls +of their race, while they behold them lonely in the midst of woe." +"Erin's clouds are hung 'round with ghosts."_--OSSIAN.) + + I go: my father's spirit calls! + From his gray cloud beholding, + He sees how thickly sorrow falls, + My lonely path enfolding. + + So near he comes: I see him well: + He beckons, smiling, pleading! + I cannot in this sad world dwell, + When he is drawing, leading. + + My heart is sore, he loves me dear, + My soul is weary, weary! + Father, I come, naught holds me here: + Thou lov'st, and life is dreary! + + Bend lower, cloud, his spirit's home, + My helpless form to cover! + A gasp, a sigh, one faint, low breath, + And all life's woes are over. + + + +A DESERTED FARM + + Seeking a lodge remote from men, + A place for rest and labor, + Where I might inspiration gain, + Dame Nature for close neighbor, + + I came on a deserted farm, + By forest deep surrounded; + 'Twas mine, by ev'ry subtle charm, + I saw, with joy unbounded. + + I wandered through its empty halls, + And 'mong its spreading acres, + Where birds and bees and frisky squirrels + Were undisturbed caretakers. + + What sturdy youth and maid demure + Within that garden olden, + Their vows of love and constancy + Pledged in the sunset golden? + + What lady hands in lilac hedge + Or tansy bed went gleaning? + Who placed that rusty flintlock there, + Against the stone fence leaning? + + The very nails within your walls + Handwrought, with skill, proclaim you + A relic of colonial days, + And home of comfort name you. + + The spinning-wheels, in attic hid, + Tell me of busy fingers; + And 'round the farm, long tenantless, + An air of home still lingers. + + Of bygone days you speak to me, + With all your ling'ring treasures; + You summon musings of the past, + And promise future pleasures. + + My Sleeping Beauty, I'm your Prince, + At my kiss you will waken + To fuller life than e'er you knew, + Before you were forsaken. + + The great of earth will gather here, + 'Twill be the home of Muses; + Thy beauty and thy peacefulness + A wondrous charm diffuses. + + I have a dream that years ahead, + From out your humble portals + Will issue music, art and song, + To bless aspiring mortals. + + And mayhap when the eyes of men + Turn toward you lovingly, + Some gentle heart will breathe a prayer, + Or sing a song for me. + + + +IN MEMORIAM + + Out of the night and the silence, + That held him in pitiless thrall, + Came a gleam and a song of glory, + And his spirit answered the call. + +January 23, 1908 + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDWARD MACDOWELL*** + + +******* This file should be named 13767-8.txt or 13767-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/7/6/13767 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/old/13767-8.zip b/old/13767-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..15c9031 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13767-8.zip diff --git a/old/13767.txt b/old/13767.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4591694 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13767.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1456 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Edward MacDowell, by Elizabeth Fry Page + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Edward MacDowell + +Author: Elizabeth Fry Page + +Release Date: October 16, 2004 [eBook #13767] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDWARD MACDOWELL*** + + +E-text prepared by David Newman, Keith M. Eckrich, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +EDWARD MACDOWELL + +His Work and Ideals + +by + +ELIZABETH FRY PAGE + +With Poetical Interpretations by the Author + +New York + + + + + + + +Dedicated to MRS. ALINE REESE BLONDNER + +Founder and Honorary President of the MacDowell Club of Nashville, +Tennessee. + + + + + +CONTENTS + +PREFACE + +EDWARD MACDOWELL + His Work and Ideals + +POETICAL INTERPRETATIONS + + To MacDowell + A. D. 1620 + Song + In Deep Woods + Shadow Dance + At an Old Trysting-Place + To a Water Lily + Told at Sunset + To a Wild Rose + The Spirit Call + A Deserted Farm + In Memoriam + + + + +PREFACE + + + +This is not merely an appreciation of Edward MacDowell as a man and a +composer, but a study of the influences and natural endowments that +combined to produce his style, a comparison of his work with that of +others who achieved fame in other branches of the fine arts, all of +which he felt were closely allied and supplemental, and a glance at +his ideals and their evolution at Peterboro. + +Most of his compositions are written around some poetic idea and are +so suggestive and appealing to the imagination that in studying them +the native poetic fancy is easily aroused; but the full effect is lost +to the casual hearer who is not familiar with the theme. The +accompanying poems are interpretations of some of his best-known piano +numbers, based upon the briefly indicated poetic idea upon which they +are founded, reinforced by a careful intellectual study of each +composition and its appeal to the individual creative faculty of the +author. + +The sonnet to MacDowell was written at the beginning of the two +darkened years preceding his death, when he forgot that there was such +a thing as music. + +"A.D. 1620" and "Song" are from the "Sea Pieces." The former describes +the sailing of the galleon bearing the Pilgrim Fathers to America. The +"Song," which is distinctly Irish in its melody, seems to me to be +sung by a lad on board the galleon, who sings and whistles to keep up +the courage of his fellow-pilgrims, thereby forgetting his own pain. + +The "Shadow Dance" is written three notes to two, and this difficult +musical form is represented by the three shadows dancing before two +people. "A Deserted Farm" is a lyric description of the now beautiful +"Hill Crest" as he found it. "The Spirit Call" is suggested by the +Celtic vein of mystery and haunting sadness pervading most of the +MacDowell music. + +The sonnet "To a Wild Rose" was inspired by a rumor from the +musician's sick room that his night had passed and he would recover; +but this was a false hope, and it was not long until he was sleeping +on a green hill-side at Peterboro, his resting-place, in the grandeur +of its simplicity, suggesting the modest, child-hearted, nature-loving +man who had passed on beyond earth's discord. + +The other poems in this little collection speak for themselves, and +all are offered as a handful of rosemary to one who ever harkened to +the simplest strain.--E.F.P. + + + + +EDWARD MACDOWELL + + + +HIS WORK AND IDEALS + + + +_"Late explorers say they have found some nations that have no God; +but I have not read of any that had no music." "Music means harmony, +harmony means love, love means--God."_--SIDNEY LANIER. + +"Music is love in search of a word," said the same poet-musician. He +was born full of the music and the love, and so was enabled to find +and transmit to the world the undying word. + +One cannot be a true poet, it seems to me, without at least an abiding +love and sympathetic appreciation of the finest in music, or a great +musician without a love of poetry and a responsiveness to its +witchery. The two arts are interdependent and well nigh inseparable. A +great musician may compose a song without words, but sooner or later +there will be born a poet-soul who, hearing the song, will be +irresistibly impelled to supply the words. On the other hand, many of +the greatest musical compositions we have were inspired, like most of +MacDowell's, by some poet's lines, a single figure, sentence or stanza +furnishing the theme of oratorio, cantata, opera or ballad. Schubert's +genius could be fired at any time, even under the most adverse +conditions, by a beautiful poem, and many writers have received the +inspiration for their masterpieces under the influence of music. + +In some compositions combining both words and music, one will be very +much the inferior of the other, and the thoughtful student or listener +can but regret the discrepancy. Perhaps the words will be imposing and +the musical setting trivial, or the music rich and full of color, but +the words meaningless and inadequate. MacDowell's songs are +satisfying. In his work he reminds one very forcibly of Sidney Lanier, +whose genius was perfectly balanced. His music was full of poetry and +his poetry ran over with music. His was an harmonious nature and no +amount of external discord could cause him to lose his keynote. +Applying his own beautiful words to himself: + + "His song was only living aloud, + His work a singing with his hands." + +Lanier played beautifully upon a silver flute, which he lovingly +describes as "a petal on a harmony." He was a member of the Peabody +Symphony orchestra of Baltimore, and Asger Hamerik, his director for +six years, says of him: "In his hands the flute no longer remained a +mere material instrument, but was transformed into a voice that set +heavenly harmonies into vibration. Its tones developed colors, warmth +and a low sweetness of unspeakable poetry. His conception of music was +not reached by an analytic study of note by note, but was intuitive +and spontaneous, like a woman's reason." In 1878 he played a flute +concerto at a symphony concert, and the director said of him: "His +tall, handsome, manly presence, his flute breathing noble sorrows, +noble joys, the orchestra softly responding. The audience was +spellbound. Such distinction, such refinement! He stood the master, +the genius." + +In studying MacDowell, one is reminded at every turn of this dual +genius. Like Lanier, his message is being better understood every +year, and now that he is gone, "fulfillment is dropping on a come-true +dream." + +MacDowell had great advantages over Lanier in his early life in +freedom from financial worry. In his youth he was privileged to travel +and search until he found his own real masters, in the Frankfort +Conservatory, where he studied piano with Heymann and composition with +Raff. At Weimar he met Liszt, who recognized his ability and accorded +him such unstinted praise that he was invited to play his first piano +suite before the Allgemeiner Deutscher Musik-Verein at its nineteenth +annual convention, held at Zurich in July, 1882. Both the composition +and his rendition of it won enthusiastic appreciation and applause. + +Lanier had a hard, brave struggle to maintain his ideals in the face +of a continually thwarting fate that would have caused many a man, +stronger physically than he, to become discouraged, despairing. Ill +health, poverty and lack of appreciation of his life work had not the +power to destroy his optimism. He bravely waged an unequal combat with +the three, when many a man would have fallen on his own sword to end +the bitter struggle with either one of them. From out the gloom he +sang thus: + + "The dark hath many dear avails, + The dark distils divinest dews; + The dark is rich with nightingales, + With dreams and with the heavenly Muse." + +Just at the awakening of public appreciation of his work and +recognition of his right to rank as America's greatest composer of +music, MacDowell died to the world of men through a mental collapse +brought on by over-work, and for two years, forgetting that there was +such a thing as music, the great tone-poet dwelt in a soundless world. +Sorrow for such a fate at the zenith of a career of so much promise +was world-wide, and many hoped that he would emerge from the dark, +after a time, with his genius enriched by long subjective communion +with the "heavenly Muse"; but he had dwelt too long in the abstract +world of sound and had heard the music of the spheres until earth +tones became fainter and fainter and finally ceased altogether. + +Then, after having admitted his greatness during those two shadowed +years, when the hand of death rang down the curtain on his +earth-drama, his contemporaries began to examine more critically into +the why and wherefore of the decision that accorded him leadership. + +A well-known critic calls him the American Grieg, but while applauding +the fanciful style of the Norwegian, one often hears MacDowell accused +of being merely capricious. But what is caprice? + +Bishop Trench reminds us in his famous treatise that the word is +derived from _capra_, "a goat," and represents, in a picturesque +manner, a mental movement as unaccountable, as little to be calculated +on beforehand, as the springs and bounds of that whimsical animal. + +The work of MacDowell certainly has the characteristic vigor and +vividness, the unstudied activity, the unexpected leaps and springs +that the derivation of the word "caprice" suggests. And, if one cares +for mysticism, it is interesting to know that according to the +teachings of the ancient science of astrology, which is having a +considerable revival at present, the composer is entitled to +unconventional methods and an unusual combination of qualities, as he +was born on the cusp between the zodiacal signs of Sagittarius and +Capricornus. The latter sign produces people who will work well +independently, but are very restless when under orders or hampered by +rules and regulations. They love freedom, are fine entertainers, have +little self-esteem, are inclined to be either on the heights or in the +depths, are excellent musicians and lovers of harmony and beauty. They +are often victims of over-work because of the determination to make a +brilliant success of what they undertake and of their lack of judgment +in regard to their powers of endurance. Sagittarius people are +characterized by directness of speech and act. They are of varied +talents, very musical and turn naturally to the spiritual side of +life. They belong to the prophetic realm and see wonderful visions, +but are no idle dreamers, being always mentally and physically active. +Whatever there may be in the science of astrology, one who is familiar +with the life and character of Edward MacDowell cannot fail to be +impressed by the correctness of this delineation, so far as it goes. + +But his style of composition is not, to my mind, capricious. It is the +result of many interesting influences of heredity, culture and +individual temperament and application. When he went to Paris, at +fifteen, he was a pupil of Marmontel in piano and of Savard in theory +and composition; but young as he was, the French school did not +satisfy him. He heard Nicholas Rubinstein play while in Paris, and +became fired with enthusiasm by his style and impressed with the idea +that in Germany he would find his own. His father was of Quaker +extraction and had decided artistic ability, but his pious parents +would not permit him to indulge even the thought of cultivating or +pursuing so trivial a calling. Edward inherited his father's talent, +and while in the French capital, during a period of despondency over +his slow progress with the language, he made a caricature of the +teacher of his French class on a leaf of his exercise book. In some +way it fell under the tutor's eye, and it was of such excellence that +it aroused new interest in the gifted hoy instead of indignation. The +teacher showed it to one of the leading artists in Paris, who implored +young MacDowell to leave off music and study art, assuring him that he +had unusual ability. But the lad also had a well-developed +discriminative faculty. He had chosen his ideal and could not he +persuaded to forsake it, preferring tone-pictures to those made with +brushes and palette. + +Besides the Quaker strain, with its tendency toward dignity, +simplicity and openness to the leadings of spirit, he owes to his +Celtic lineage the mystic, poetic, dashing, unsophisticated vein that +might be easily mistaken for caprice, and to his American birth is +due, no doubt, many of the more solid, practical characteristics that +combined to produce the proper balance. + +Naturally, he was deeply influenced by his foreign teachers and also +by his favorites among the great masters whose works he studied. He is +said to have adored Wagner, with Tschaikowsky and Grieg for lesser +musical loves. To what extent he drew upon Wagner no one can say, but +that he did so, either unconsciously or with that imitation that is +sincerest flattery is very evident. Many passages suggest Wagner, and +one can easily imagine the ardent young American worshiping the great +German master, as he in turn had adored Beethoven. + +Liszt used to say: "I only value people by what they are to Wagner." +There is no estimating the value of Wagner to those who came after +him. He was not satisfied, we are told, with either the melody of the +Italians or the rhetorical excesses of the French. The music of +Beethoven was his ideal, and the dramas of Shakespeare, whose work, to +his mind, compared with the early Greek plays, was like a scene in +nature in comparison with a piece of architecture. Mme. de Stael +called beautiful architecture "frozen music." It was just this +architectural, frozen, congealed condition that Wagner wished to +overcome, without running into any frivolities. He was in every sense +a living, breathing _man_, and his work is pervaded by this virile, +life-like quality. In his first youthful attempt at drama, forty-two +persons perished in the development of the plot and most of them had +to be brought back as ghosts to enable him to complete the piece. Now, +however, one is haunted by the faithfulness to life of his creations, +not by the ghosts of his slaughtered victims, and an aspiring young +composer who adored him could not help imbibing some of his power. + +Wagner thought that the musician should write his own lines in opera +or song, and conceived and mastered a new form, taking poetry into +music just as Sidney Lanier took music into poetry in his "Science of +English Verse." Wagner also thought that because of the exactness of +musical science, a composer became practically the actor of each of +his parts, while the dramatic author could never be sure what meaning +would be read into his lines. + +The native poetic temperament of MacDowell and his almost invariable +use of lines, figures or stanzas of poetry as inspiration in +composition leads one to believe that he would have attempted opera +when he had grown to it. This was one of the few musical forms that he +did not essay. Perhaps he was of the opinion of Beethoven, as Wagner +conceived him, who said when speaking of opera: "The man who created a +_true_ musical drama would be looked upon as a fool--and would _be_ +one in very truth if he did not keep such a thing to himself, but +wanted to bring it before the public." + +MacDowell is frequently called a mystic, and most of his efforts +breathe the Celtic spirit, which is full of melancholy, romance and +tenderness. Ghosts creep through their pages and wandering, restless +spirits call from his most characteristic harmonies. Wagner was a +mystic at sixteen, dwelling largely in the abstract, but grew out of +this, through varied experience, into an active philosopher, with +every objective faculty on the alert, and thus escaped, perhaps, the +fate of MacDowell. + +The literary loves of MacDowell, who supplied him with such a wealth +of inspiration, were Goethe, Heine, Shakespeare, Tennyson and Keats, +and he was himself a poet of no mean ability. Lawrence Gilman says, in +his thorough analysis of his work, that, writing as he usually does +from some poetic theme, the effect is lost if the hearer does not know +the idea around which the composition is woven. For instance, one is +apt to take "A.D. 1620" for a funeral dirge, just to hear it without +knowledge of the subject, as it somewhat resembles the Chopin Funeral +March; but the title suggests something historic, and knowing the +lines that inspired it, one can easily distinguish the waves and the +majestic movement of a great ship putting out to sea. + +Naturally, MacDowell drew heavily upon the German poets, Goethe and +Heine, in his earlier works, as he began his serious study of +composition in Germany. Equally naturally did he turn to Tennyson, as +they are alike in psychic development and in their powers of +interpretation of nature. Recently, in Lincoln, England, a new statue +of Tennyson was unveiled. It is by Watts, and represents the poet clad +in a cape overcoat, with slouch hat in hand and his dog at his side. +He and his dumb friend have been strolling in the woods and his head +is bent over an uprooted flower held lovingly in his hand. Underneath +are the lines which inspired the striking pose: + + "Flower in the crannied wall, + I pluck you out of the crannies, + I hold you here, root and all, in my hand. + Little flower--but if I could understand + What you are, root and all, and all in all, + I should know what God and man is." + +It is a beautiful conception, the big, tall man contemplating thus +reverently, with bared head, the tender epitome of life. The dog, with +head upraised, points a comprehending nose in the direction of his +poet-master's find, and looks as if he longed to help him unravel the +mystery. MacDowell would adore this piece of sculpture, for he sought +the secret of life in flower and brook and landscape, in mountain and +vale and sea. + +Gilman compares the "Sea Pieces" to Walt Whitman and Swinburne. Like +Whitman, MacDowell is no strict adherent to set forms, placing +inspiration ahead of tradition. Some of his most beautiful +compositions are very brief. Poe claims that there is no such thing in +existence as a "long poem." Since a poem only deserves the name in +proportion to its power to excite and elevate the soul, and a +sustained condition of soul excitement and elevation is a psychic +impossibility, the oft-used phrase is a contradiction in terms. +Applying this idea to the familiar piano compositions of MacDowell, +they have every right to be called "tone poems." Poetry is the +color-work of the mind, as distinguished from its sculpture and +architecture, which represent mere form. There is more than form in +the compositions under consideration; the tinge of color is +everywhere, the wave of poetry that produces soul excitement and +elevation, from signature to final chord. While he handles a subject +broadly, as an impressionist, accomplishing striking effects with a +few bold, characteristic strokes, MacDowell still works out his tone +picture with considerable detail, carefully indicating the results he +wishes to achieve. He reminds one in his methods of Corot, the great +landscape painter. He will tell you to play a passage "very tenderly," +or "somewhat savagely," or "daintily and joyously," not being content +with the usual color terms. When he is loud, he is very, very loud, +and in the same composition will have a passage marked with four p's. +He likes contrasts and uses them very effectively. His music has the +charm of infinite variety, but there is an insistent note of +sombreness pervading most of it that is heard even above the majesty +of the "Sea Pieces," the beauty of the "Woodland Sketches" and the +humor of the "Marionettes." In the "New England Idyls" there is a +plaintive little wail, "From a Log Cabin," the rustic retreat in the +woods at Peterboro, his "house of dreams untold," where MacDowell did +most of his later composition. It speaks of solitude, isolation and a +moan of the wind is heard in the tree tops, with an answering moan +from the heart of a man who may have had some premonition of his fate. + +He is the first composer of world-note since Brahms who did his best +work for the piano. Others have used that instrument as a means +merely, reserving their crowning efforts for the orchestra, where it +is, of course, far less difficult to achieve fine effects. While he +wrote successful orchestral suites, he dignified the single instrument +by devoting his first thought to piano literature. + +His humorous suite, "The Marionettes," very strongly suggests Jerome +K. Jerome's "Stageland," in which the villain is represented as an +individual who always wears a clean collar and smokes a cigarette. The +hero approaches the heroine from the rear and "breathes his attachment +down her back," and the poor heroine is pursued by the relentless +storm, while on the other side of the street the sun is shining. +MacDowell portrays the coquettish "Soubrette," the longing "Lover," +the strong-charactered "Witch," the gay "Clown," the sinister +"Villain" and the simple, tender "Sweetheart," with a Prologue +indicating "sturdy good humor" and an Epilogue to be rendered +"musingly, with deep feeling." The suite is very attractive and in +sharp contrast to his romantic, heroic and lyric work. + +Another potent factor in the formation of MacDowell's style of +composition was his love of nature. No one has put truer brooks, +birds, flowers, trees, meadows or sea into tone. Whenever he "loafed +and invited his soul," the tired, city-worn world reaped the benefit. +His lesser piano compositions may be, in a sense, considered in the +light of a diary. We are with him in a fisherman's hut, in deep woods, +on a deserted farm, in the haunted house, by the lily pond, in +mid-ocean, by a meadow brook, by smoldering embers, always seeing the +picture, hearing the voices or feeling the atmosphere that appealed to +his artist mind. The charm of common things, the ever-present beauty +and harmony in all forms of life, supplied him with endless +inspiration. + +In portraying nature, he is in no sense a copyist. He does not +describe a scene, an occasion or an object, but suggests it, being an +adept in the use of musical metaphor. Robert Louis Stevenson says that +the one art in literature is to omit. "If I knew how to omit," says +he, "I should ask no other knowledge." Painters tell us that the +highest evidence of skill in transferring nature to canvas is to avoid +too much detail, and they squint up their eyes in order not to see too +much. These standards prove MacDowell the artist. He does not make the +mistake that so many preachers and public teachers do of presuming +upon the ignorance or stupidity of his hearers, but leaves something +to their imagination and inner artistic senses. + +There is a reverence of nature, a depth of love that amounts almost to +sadness, in this man's work that stamps him the pantheist in the +highest sense. This is, I think, a common characteristic of the +mystic. Their consciousness of the oneness of all life is so perfect +that God is seen even in its lowest forms. Sermons are read in stones +and books in the running brooks. This suggests MacDowell's kinship to +Shakespeare, Ruskin, Emerson and Thoreau; but it is a limitless +analogy. All genius, in the end, is of one blood, and MacDowell is +unquestionably a genius. + +When one is entering upon a literary career, the first injunction is +to "acquire a style." "But how?" asks the aspirant. Some say by +becoming familiar with the forms of expression of the best authors, +and such advise that you read without stint. Others bid you write, +write incessantly about everything under the sun, until by long +practice you evolve a style of your own, unhampered in its originality +by the memory of the achievements of others resulting from much +reading. There are still others who advise an equal division of time +between study of the classics and self-expression. The latter is the +most natural and common method and leads in time to the goal. Perhaps +the same is true of musical style. Technical skill, accuracy, +interpretation and appreciation come from studying and performing the +works of others; then if one aspires to original work, let him +compose, essaying any and everything until his own peculiar bent is +discovered, unless it forces itself upon him with the insistence of +destiny from the outset. + +While the critics have admitted the freshness, originality and general +excellence of MacDowell's work and marveled over his versatility, his +shorter piano pieces and songs are as yet most popular in the making +of programmes. However, Henry T. Finck says of his sonatas: "As +regards the sonatas, I ought to bear MacDowell a decided grudge. After +I had written and argued a hundred times that the sonata form was +'played out,' he went to work and wrote four sonatas to confute me. To +be sure, I might have my revenge and say they are 'not sonatas'; but +they are no more unorthodox than the sonatas of Chopin, Schumann, +Liszt and Grieg, though they have a freedom of their own which is +captivating. They are brimful of individuality and charm; they will be +heard often in the concert halls of the future." + +The "Sonata Tragica" might have been written of the composer himself, +and "The Heroica" could easily have been inspired by his wife, instead +of by the Arthur legends, for she is a knightly soul, combining to a +most unusual degree the artistic temperament, womanly tenderness and +charm, with a chivalrous sort of courage, suggesting Tennyson's lines: + + "My woman-soldier, gallant Kate, + As pure and true as blades of steel." + +These are busy days for her at Peterboro, where she is daily striving +to put the MacDowell ideals into permanent and practical effect. The +plan is most appealing and can, perhaps, be better understood by +contrast, if a little insight is given into a state of things, the +amelioration of which is the purpose of the project. + +You are invited, then, to step into a neat and attractive modern +apartment kitchen, say three years ago. The grocery boy had just left. +Everything was there, and of unusually good quality--crisp lettuce, +golden oranges, the inevitable loaf of whole wheat bread, the sugar +and lemons--and as the housekeeper compared the articles with the +grocer's book which she held in her hand, she gave a start. Some one +across the way was playing "To a Wild Rose." Yes, it was Wednesday, +and a glance at the kitchen clock revealed the fact that in ninety +minutes the MacDowell Club would be called to order, and she had +promised a poem for the programme. Shades of Sappho! What was to be +done? There had been no time in the two weeks since the last meeting, +between housekeeping, mending, grinding out of pot-boilers and +countless interruptions, to give the matter a thought, and she had +never been known to forget such a promise. + +Pegasus neighed reassuringly, and seizing the stub of a pencil +attached to the grocer's book, after a moment of concentration, in +which she closed her eyes to shut out the material vision before her, +she scribbled rapidly on a few blank pages in the back of the plebeian +record. After several readings of the lines and sundry interlined +revisions, she tore out the sheets, blessed Pegasus for coming in +under the wire so nobly, and hurried away to dress. At the appointed +time, sheepishly trying to conceal her unpoetic manuscript, which +there had been no time to copy, behind a lace fan, she arose, flushed +but sustaining her reputation for reliability as a programme feature. + +'Twas for like-conditioned people, aspiring to work out their dreams +in words, tones, color or clay in congenial surroundings, undisturbed +by any domestic or other distraction or inharmony, that Edward +MacDowell conceived the idea now being carried out at Peterboro, New +Hampshire. + +The plan was not to provide a rest-cure or moderate-priced summer home +for broken-down musicians, artists and writers, as many seem to think, +but to give those at the very height of their productiveness a chance +for undisturbed work, under the inspiration of nature in her most +alluring guise, and association, after work hours, with such rare +souls as could arouse higher aspiration by thought interchange and +comparison of ideals. + +Ask the average workman along any artistic line what he would rather +have than anything else and he is very sure to tell you, "Leisure for +work!" And after that, the strongest desire is for the companionship +of some one who really understands what he is trying to do. + +His good angel must have led Edward MacDowell to Peterboro. I can +imagine no other setting so perfect for the last act of his life, with +its shifting scenes. Whatever else the great power back of the +universe may be, He is the Master Artist, and in the making of this +village of enchantment He seems to have gathered together all His most +beautiful materials and combined them with lavish hand. Quaint and +picturesque houses are sprinkled over the foot-hills of the Monadnock +Mountains. Green fields go down to meet clear streams of placid water, +where trailing vines and overhanging boughs make charming shadows. The +sun sparkles against great gray boulders, lichen-grown, and upon +yellow sand dunes. There are pines, larches, firs, spruces and all +their sturdy kinspeople, scattered freely that the eye may at any +season be gladdened by the sight of living green, and interspersed +with these are deciduous trees of every kind, to make a fantastic +tracery of bare branches against the wintry sky and furnish a series +of beautiful contrasts, from the earliest tender bud to the last sere +autumn leaf. And the ferns! Did the Great Artist have any left after +planting the fence-corners, roadsides and deep woods of Peterboro? +Overarch these features with a fair dome of fleece-scattered blue and +waft abroad throughout the place a succession of mountain breezes, +ozone charged, and you have a place to live and work and grow young +in. + +MacDowell thought that the fine arts were supplemental, each of the +other, and wished to include them all in his scheme, so well-built +rustic studios, equipped to suit the needs of the occupant, are being +placed at intervals on advantageous sites in the woods, tree-screened +and far enough apart to insure quiet and privacy, but sufficiently +near to give that comfortable sense of human comradeship and safety. +There is a common domicile at the foot of "Hill Crest," called "The +Lower House," presided over by a capable housekeeper, where the +workers sleep, breakfast, dine and recreate in the evening; but after +breakfast, provided with a simple lunch, each hies away happily to his +own studio to spend the day in alternate working and waiting on the +Muses in blissful solitude. This routine is broken sufficiently by +cups of tea with Mrs. MacDowell at "Hill Crest," rambles in garden and +wood, drives over the picturesque mountain roads and tramps to the +village, to prevent Jack from having any chance of becoming a dull +boy. + +The departed musician's own log cabin, already referred to as the +place where most of his later works were composed, was the first of +the studios to be built, and it would be difficult to imagine a more +perfect retreat for his purpose. + + "It looks out over the whispering treetops, + And faces the setting sun," + +which glints on the bark roof, now covered with a thick shower of +fragrant brown pine needles, giving the appearance of a pre-designed +thatch. + +Within, the personality of the absent composer lingers perceptibly, +and the two names--"Edward--Marian-1899"--written in his bold +chirography in the damp cement, when the cabin hearth was laid before +the open fireplace, tell a touching story of a union so real as to +make no plan complete, no realization of a long-cherished hope +perfect, that did not openly include his wife. + +These two were married in New York in 1884. A gifted South Carolina +aunt, who went to New York after the war and soon made her way to the +front rank of metropolitan teachers, gave to Marian Nevins, a +country-bred girl of York State, the only musical training she ever +had until she went abroad in 1880 to pursue her studies. Edward +MacDowell was at that time in high favor with his masters, Heymann and +Raff, at the Frankfort Conservatory, and she became his pupil. Her +industry and ambition aroused his interest in the development of her +talent, and he put her through a long season of severe drill and +study, imparting to her all his original methods and personal ideals, +as well as those acquired from his masters. It was hard work between +the gifted teacher and his promising pupil, with no idea of romance; +but with her preparations for her return to America, at the expiration +of three years, came the revelation to each of the meaning of the +impending separation, and in a twelvemonth after her departure he went +to New York and returned to Germany with his bride, settling at +Wiesbaden, where they spent some ideal years. While he began his +career as a composer in that inspiring atmosphere and won a hearing +and a verdict that opened the way to fame, it was after his return to +America that he did his best work, when he freed himself from the +chance of unconscious imitation and reflection and gave rein to +individuality and imagination in the Peterboro retreat. Weber says: +"To be a true artist you must be a true man." This tribute has been +paid MacDowell by his associates: they say he was a true man. +Nobleness has been called the chief characteristic alike of himself +and his music, with a simplicity that is ever the accompaniment of +real nobility. In playing, he had certain little tricks of using his +fingers that produced certain effects, but he did not teach these to +his pupils, preferring that they should use their own ingenuity, +explaining: "You might find a better way than mine," showing a modest +willingness to be taught, even by his own pupils, instead of always +posing as master. He never forced his personality, as a man or as a +musician, upon any one, choosing rather to encourage and foster +originality. + +Much is said and written about an American national music. I am +reminded of a colored mammy who was left in charge of "Marse John" and +the house while "Miss Mary an' de chillun" were away at the springs. +When the larder needed replenishing she would break the news to her +employer like this: "Marse John?" "Yes, Mammy!" "You know the flour?" +"Yes, Mammy!" "Well, _there ain't none_!" It is even so with our +national music--"there ain't none." + +Arthur Farwell, president of the American Music Society, thinks +differently. He says: "One must make a very broad study of the works +of eighty or one hundred American composers before he will begin to +perceive the indisputable American qualities arising in our music. The +endeavor not to repeat, parrot-like, the formulae of the Old World has +driven many American composers to seek out new inventions and has led +to a freshness, in a considerable mass of American work, as in +MacDowell's, which may be said to be directly a product of American +conditions." + +Music is seldom a thing of nationality or locality. Early opera in +Germany was Italian and the French grand opera school was founded by a +Florentine. The style of music that appeals most keenly to the people +of a country or community influences largely the method and manner of +its native composers. Authors, musical and literary, write more often +to fill a demand, subjectively felt perhaps, than to create one or to +establish a form representative of their nation or section, though +occasionally, when the author is a genius and fearlessly gives +expression to his own divinity, regardless of precedent, he finds +himself responsible for a new order, though in that case the +individuality of the author is the leaven that leaveneth the lump, and +not the locality. + +We are only beginning, as a nation, to recognize music as an essential +to general culture. A new country must become familiar with and learn +to appreciate what has already been done along artistic lines before +it is capable of evolving its own type in any permanent, living +fashion. We have no people's music. "Give me, oh give me, the man who +sings at his work," said Carlyle, and I often think when I hear an +American laborer singing at his task that if dear old Carlyle were +only alive and I _could_ give him the unmelodious disturber of the +public peace, the pleasure would be _all mine_. American music, the +music of the people, is built upon the Puritan hymn tunes and savors +of the persecution that made the Pilgrim Fathers fly to the new land. + +Some think that the negro melodies should form the basis of our +American music; but why? The negro is an importation, not a native, +and if we want the real thing, it seems to me that we will have to +find it in the Indian melodies, but it will take artistic handling to +develop them from aboriginal simplicity to the intricacy necessary to +represent in any sense present-day, cosmopolitan America. + +Universality is just now the philosophical ideal, and it seems to me +that America, the composite nation, is the proper center from which +such a spirit should emanate. Why try to foster the limited local idea +with regard to music, or any artistic or intellectual pursuit? Why +encourage the production of distinctive American music in a country in +which there is not even a distinctive type of face or mode of speech? +Here is a Virginian, descended from an American Indian and an English +colonist, living next door to a Plymouth Rock Yankee whose husband is +a French Canadian. Across the street is a German-American born in the +Middle West, who is married to a Californian of Spanish lineage. My +cook is an African, yours is Chinese and perhaps your housemaid is +Scandinavian, your chauffeur Irish, and so on. Music, to be effective +in such a patchwork civilization as this, would have to be _simply +music_--universal, composite, international. + +MacDowell has created a typical music, typical of _himself_, not of +any locality, and he wished it to be judged as _music_, not as +_American_ music, and the justice of his desire cannot be gainsaid. +Recalling all of the influences of inherited and natural temperament, +education, foreign environment and American experience, jealous as we +are of his genius, we must admit that he caught in his productions the +complexity of his time. His music is universal and reflects the genius +of his contemporaries, as well as that of the older masters, +impregnated with his individual creativeness. He had seeing eyes and +hearing ears, and realizing the eternal principle of rhythm and the +universality of tone, he caught the keynote of everything related to +him in the outer world, with its corresponding relation in the inner +or unseen realms, producing compositions that are complete in form, +accurate in intellectual grasp and spiritually prophetic. + + He fashioned his own wreath of immortelles, + With matchless skill. + Tones lent themselves with subtle eagerness + To do his will. + Repeat them as his genius did design, + His pow'r devise; + No higher tribute to his name and fame + From us could rise. + + + + +POETICAL INTERPRETATIONS + + +By ELIZABETH FRY PAGE + + + + +TO MACDOWELL + + Now, in the darkness, mute, from hour to hour, + Sits one who lov'd all life, and from the strings + Of well-tuned harp brought sounds of common things, + And sang of sea and wood and tree and flow'r. + His task all done, fled usefulness and pow'r, + Through the deep shade his uncurbed fancy wings, + While with his fame his proud land loudly rings, + And praise falls on his work in lavish show'r. + + The rosemary we bring, and no rude hand + The laurel would withhold, the plaudits stay. + For him is seen the magic circled wand + That to creative genius points the way. + His music's bold, true note Time's test will stand. + His age in art begins with cloudless day. + + + +A.D. 1620 + + Exiled from home, for sake of faith held dear, + To distant shores the Pilgrim Fathers turned. + Their grief-stung hearts for Freedom's blessing yearned, + Where persecution's lash they need not fear. + In stately ships they sailed the ocean drear, + And more of trial and of hardship learned; + But in their loyal bosoms still there burned + Religious zeal that lent heroic cheer. + + One hundred souls from Mother England came, + And many days fared on a storm-tossed sea, + Men, women, children, to be known to Fame + For braving death for sacred Liberty. + To our bleak, shelt'ring port they gave a name, + And marked an epoch in our history. + + + +SONG + + A merry song the pilgrim sang + To check the sigh of pain, + At thought of leaving his dear home + He ne'er might see again. + 'Twas o-ho-ho and ah-ha-ha, + He laughed and sang alway; + When comrades' eyes were filled with tears, + Or sad heads turned away. + + A cheery song, a merry song, + As o'er Life's sea we sail, + Will send a thrill of courage new + To hearts about to fail. + So sound a note, oh singer brave, + Whate'er your own soul's pain; + When time repeats its echo sweet, + 'Twill bless your life again. + + + +IN DEEP WOODS + + A solitary soul, I walk at eve + Without the village walls, and in the deep + And sacred hush of woods, where fairies sleep, + Calm Nature soothes my senses, and I live + In realms that only creatures can conceive, + Who with their holy guardian spirits keep + Firm faith, and into loving arms I creep, + And mundane cares no more my spirit grieve. + + Cool breezes blow about me, and I hear + The mellow bells of distant churches chime. + I wander on, with never thought of fear, + Secure as in some peaceful heav'nly clime. + Majestic, mystic things seem close and clear, + And all my soul is wrapt in thoughts sublime. + + + +SHADOW DANCE + + We two sat watching the shadows dance, + (Long years had passed since we were young), + And o'er the days that had fled there hung + A mist of sorrow and sad romance. + + From out the gloom of an old stone wall, + The moon drew creatures of wondrous shape, + And none of our lost dreams could escape, + A cruel magic revealed them all. + + They bowed and swayed with a mocking grace, + And held our gaze as they flitted by; + Our deep-drawn breaths were our sole reply, + As one by one we beheld each face. + + A dream of Wealth and a dream of Fame, + And Love's dream, these were the foremost three, + Each with its shadowy train, till we + Could greet the phantoms of youth by name. + + Our faces paled and we trembled there, + Watching the shadows dance on the wall; + Wealth, Fame and Love--we had missed them all, + And Sorrow's chalice had been our share. + + But there was hope and we still had life, + And hearts are brave that the years have tried; + We looked in each other's eyes and sighed, + Sad, pain-filled eyes, but free of strife. + + Dance on, gaunt shadows, beside the wall, + We shrink from you in your cruel mirth; + But what are _you_ and the dreams of Earth? + Our hard-won peace is worth them all. + + + +AT AN OLD TRYSTING-PLACE + + Where, dearest, fare thy feet this summer eve? + Hast found a pasture green in which to tread, + Beside refreshing waters art thou led, + Content beyond my powers to conceive? + Does overflowing cup thy thirst relieve, + With princely feast hast thou thy hunger fed, + Uplifted high is thine anointed head, + Among thy kind dost thou esteem receive? + + I pray 'tis so; and evermore shall be, + That year by year thy honors may increase, + No shadow darken thy prosperity, + Nor treach'rous pitfall mar thy way of peace. + My loving eyes would always joy to see + Thy path lie fair until thy journey cease. + + + +TO A WATER LILY + + This is her bed! + Dip the oars lightly, + Guide the craft rightly, + Where her sweet head + Nestles so calmly. + + What says her heart, + Fragrant and golden? + In its depths holden, + With maiden art, + Whose image hath she? + + Dare I disturb + Fancies so tender, + E'en to surrender? + Better to curb + Self for her peace. + + Dream on, my flow'r! + Eyes have caressed thee, + I have confessed me, + In this still hour. + Will she requite me? + + + +TOLD AT SUNSET + + Upon the mountain's top we pensive stood, + The day was waning and the sun drooped low; + Long shadows fell across the vale below, + And deepened as they reached the distant wood. + The sky seemed in arm's reach: in holy mood, + The trees stretched forth their boughs as to bestow + A vesper blessing, ere we turned to go. + Like feathered mother hovering her brood, + Gray twilight o'er the landscape spread her wings. + I looked into your eyes: in their clear glow, + There dwelt the light that altar candles throw + On imaged saint and penitent who clings + To God, whose likeness such pure beings show. + The strength'ning peace that contemplation brings, + Obliterating trace of earthly things, + Wrapt you in radiant aura, safe from woe. + The path became a long cathedral aisle, + The sinking sun, the Host to bow before + With folded hands and rev'rently adore, + The zephyrs wafting incense sweet the while. + There was a far-off priest, with gentle smile, + Whose parting benediction seemed to pour + Upon us, from the verge of some blest shore, + To which our ling'ring steps he would beguile. + An organ pealed from somewhere in the heights + Above us, and a sweet-voiced chorus rang + A "Nunc Dimittis," and from caverns sang + In echo all the list'ning mountain wights. + Uniting fervently in their "amen," + We stood a moment in the dark'ning gray; + In silence, as the knowing only may, + And then, refreshed, turned to our tasks again. + + + +TO A WILD ROSE + + Awake, wild rose, lift up your lovely face + And smile a welcome sweet to one whose days + Were spent of yore in rose-embowered ways, + Where lovingly he marveled at your grace + And found in music lore for you a place, + Telling in tones the world heard with amaze, + How fair you were to his inspired gaze. + A grieving people lost him for a space, + And 'round his darkened home there hung a band + Of messengers, half-dreading, day by day, + Lest they should bear sad tidings o'er the land. + But now, as Nature wakes, joy hath full sway. + MacDowell lives! Grim death could not withstand + The tide of loving thought that flowed his way. + + + +THE SPIRIT CALL + +(_Celtic myth: "The ghosts of Fathers, they say, call away the souls +of their race, while they behold them lonely in the midst of woe." +"Erin's clouds are hung 'round with ghosts."_--OSSIAN.) + + I go: my father's spirit calls! + From his gray cloud beholding, + He sees how thickly sorrow falls, + My lonely path enfolding. + + So near he comes: I see him well: + He beckons, smiling, pleading! + I cannot in this sad world dwell, + When he is drawing, leading. + + My heart is sore, he loves me dear, + My soul is weary, weary! + Father, I come, naught holds me here: + Thou lov'st, and life is dreary! + + Bend lower, cloud, his spirit's home, + My helpless form to cover! + A gasp, a sigh, one faint, low breath, + And all life's woes are over. + + + +A DESERTED FARM + + Seeking a lodge remote from men, + A place for rest and labor, + Where I might inspiration gain, + Dame Nature for close neighbor, + + I came on a deserted farm, + By forest deep surrounded; + 'Twas mine, by ev'ry subtle charm, + I saw, with joy unbounded. + + I wandered through its empty halls, + And 'mong its spreading acres, + Where birds and bees and frisky squirrels + Were undisturbed caretakers. + + What sturdy youth and maid demure + Within that garden olden, + Their vows of love and constancy + Pledged in the sunset golden? + + What lady hands in lilac hedge + Or tansy bed went gleaning? + Who placed that rusty flintlock there, + Against the stone fence leaning? + + The very nails within your walls + Handwrought, with skill, proclaim you + A relic of colonial days, + And home of comfort name you. + + The spinning-wheels, in attic hid, + Tell me of busy fingers; + And 'round the farm, long tenantless, + An air of home still lingers. + + Of bygone days you speak to me, + With all your ling'ring treasures; + You summon musings of the past, + And promise future pleasures. + + My Sleeping Beauty, I'm your Prince, + At my kiss you will waken + To fuller life than e'er you knew, + Before you were forsaken. + + The great of earth will gather here, + 'Twill be the home of Muses; + Thy beauty and thy peacefulness + A wondrous charm diffuses. + + I have a dream that years ahead, + From out your humble portals + Will issue music, art and song, + To bless aspiring mortals. + + And mayhap when the eyes of men + Turn toward you lovingly, + Some gentle heart will breathe a prayer, + Or sing a song for me. + + + +IN MEMORIAM + + Out of the night and the silence, + That held him in pitiless thrall, + Came a gleam and a song of glory, + And his spirit answered the call. + +January 23, 1908 + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDWARD MACDOWELL*** + + +******* This file should be named 13767.txt or 13767.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/7/6/13767 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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