Edward Elgar and His World Read Free

they suffice to produce from his pen a species of music like that of no one else. It is individual to the highest degree, and perhaps this is its greatest strength to-day, when originality in the musical art becomes more and more difficult.
    In conformity with a custom which is seemingly becoming general, the composer has himself selected and arranged his libretto. This is mainly from Biblical sources, and is illustrative of the calling of the Apostles, culminating with the Passion, Ascension, and prophecy of the future work of the disciples. The whole libretto is most cunningly chosen for the purpose of displaying a series of vivid and dramatic pictures suggestive to the Christian mind of the most moving and important incidents in the history of the world. At the same time the sacred subject is treated with the utmost reverence, so that not the slightest shock can be produced in the religious feelings of the most sensitive listener. Rather must the reverse happen in the majority of instances, and the hearer comes away with a sense that he has assisted at an elevating act of worship. The whole work may be taken as the most modern representative of the old-time “Passion music” as typified by Bach in his St. John and St. Matthew’s Passion [ sic ]. Whilst, however, the design of these earlier works was confined to certain recognised and clearly defined limits, here it is extended so as to embrace other ideas and incidents, all elaborated with the most modern methods of composition. As the composer tells us that the present work is only a portion of his projected design, it is evident that he sees the possibilities of great expansion in this particular form of creative art.
    The note of mysticism is at once struck, in the Prologue of which the vocal portions are allotted to a chorus. In it a number of the most important leit-motives are announced, and later on these with many others are woven together with all the composer’s inimitable subtlety. The methods prevalent in “Gerontius” are here again constantly in evidence. There are the same frequent subdivisions of muted strings, the same characteristic use of brass, especially of horns, the same large orchestra, and strong contrasts of light and shade, all compelling attention by their mystery. In the later work, however, there is more chromaticism, and in this respect a nearer approach to the continental schools. The motives named in the analytical programme, “Christ’s Loneliness” and “Sin,” are both instances of this tendency. 19 Indeed, the former phrase is somewhat reminiscent of Wagner’s “Parsifal.” Such a resemblance, however, is sufficiently rare in Elgar’s case. The wonder is that, dealing with such a subject, and coming after such a dominating genius as the Bayreuth master, he is not drawn much more under his sway. Perhaps the most striking motif in its significance and simplicity is that of Christ. This consists merely of a melody of three notes moving by conjunct degrees, but it is harmonised in such a manner as to produce an acute dissonance, at once suggestive of the sufferings of our Lord. 20 The dramatic suggestiveness of the work never flags, and herein perhaps lies its greatest strength. It is often all-absorbing in this respect, as for instance in Christ’s delivery of the “Beatitudes,” with the running commentary of Mary, the disciples and a chorus, in Mary Magdalene’s anguish as she looks out of a Tower by the Sea of Galilee, whilst a chorus suggests worldly pleasures to her, and afterwards when Peter is in danger of being drowned. Again, in the Betrayal of Christ, Judas’ repentance is dramatically accentuated by the chorus of priests and singers in the Temple. Their words, by chance apparently, are strangely applicable to Judas’ mood. It is in such passages as these that the composer suggests to the mind of the listener a scene, a living picture, without the