Besprechung des Konzerts vom 5.2.1887 mit der 7. Symphonie in The Boston Globe Nr. 37 (= The Boston Sunday Globe) auf S. 6:

"THE BOSTON ORCHESTRA
Gives Two New Works at Last Night's Concert.
Bruckner's Seventh Symphony and Foote's "Mountains" Overture.
Mr. Adamowski Plays a Violin Concerto as Soloist.
     The people who attended, last evening, the seventeenth of the Boston Orchestra's Music Hall symphony concerts, have got something to think about and talk about at last, and unless the tranquilizing influence of this much governed day restrains them, some are, no doubt, already by the ears. For last night Mr. Gericke gave the long expected first hearing to Anton Bruckner's seventh symphony - a work which has caused a monstrous deal of discussion in Europe since its performance in Leipsic in 1884 brought its author forward into prominence as a composer for the first time in his life, although he had been well-known in the little Vienna world as an organist, a professor, a somewhat prolific writer and a great friend and a greater admirer of Wagner.

     This symphony has been simultaneously pronounced by the men who are esteemed as doctors in criticism to be something wonderfully instinct with genius and wunderfully devoid of it: full of originality and constructed of plagiarisms, reminiscences and imitations: the message of a great soul struggling for utterance and needing for its expression more than the common means which were enough for Handel, Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Schumann and Brahms. and as the labored and pedantic efforts of a limited but enthusiastic man to conceal his lack of inspiration under new instrumental combinations and perplexed intricacies of scoring; as deeply interesting and utterly wearisome.
     Amid such contradictory opinions, each so positively held and so strongly reinforced by argument and citation, that would be a pretty bold and self-confident man who should undertake after a single hearing, to give a judgment in cold print, however much he might be willing to say in the warmth of current chat. I certainly am no such person, and I shall fain content myself – as I hope I may also content the reader, by presenting some points in regard to the external form of the symphony, and giving some intimation of the general impression it produced, so far as I could trace it, and so far as my own feeling may be accepted as a fair average.
     At the time of his bringing out this symphony Bruckner was about 60 years old, and it may therefore be assumed that the manner of statement he has assumed in it represents his matured and fixed views – especially as the general drift of the treatment is harmonious with that of
                        His Sixth [sic] Symphony,
which was played last season in New York, and met with similar, though less strong, comment to that made upon this work. The author must be judged almost entirely by these works, since little else of his, except a Te Deum and a strong [sic] quintet (a movement from which the Kneisel quartet, played last month, without obtaining for it much sympathy, has been published. In arranging his score he found that he had either so much so say that he must have new instruments to speak for him or so little that the instrumental variety and force must do duty for ideas, and so he added to the full complement of three trumpets, three trombones and bass tuba, which appear in all the movements, a quartet of other tubas, one being a double bass one for the adagio und finale. He then proceeded to develop his thematic material in all the usual and unusual ways, showing a particular preference for certain inversions, contrary movements and other figures which are most difficult even for professional listeners to follow, and in following to estimate rightly.
     So far as the themes themselves are concerned, Bruckner has shown his predilection for Wagner by giving them often a cast akin to something of that master's, a proceeding which finds a double explanation in the acknowledged discipleship of Bruckner and in the avowed fact that the adagio was meant as a memorial tribute to the memory of Wagner, upon whose death its completion closely followed. These themes are for the most part strongly marked and not without impressiveness; they will be generally accepted, no doubt, as indicative of a powerful talent, and discussion will pass on to their symphonic utilization. Much of their treatment will be understood and liked. The light, airy, animating march-like figuration which appears prominently in the first movement, and is reproduced chiefly in the last, the chief staple of the trio, beating in a keen waltz rhythm, and most of the ecclesiastical yet earnest adagio are easy of acceptance and give large pleasure. On the other hand, the dreadful let-down after the grand fortissimo in the adagio leaves the listener cold who had been raised to a glow of sympathy; the great pompous unisons of the first and last movements no sooner begin to be influential than they are dispersed into what seem inconsequential fragments, and at intervals all through the work the auditor who thinks that everything is at last all right and going smoothly, is suddenly disconcerted by the interjection of some passage which, if it can be made to hang to the phraes [sic] just preceding it, still appears without relevancy to the larger plan of the whole movement. There is a kind of blowing hot and blowing cold all through the symphony, and in spite of the evident relationship of the first and last movements, the general effect is fragmentary, as if the work had been done at intervals and under diverse moods. The influence of Wagner is apparent indirectly rather than directly: there are thrills in the violins, entrances of the brass, figures to the upper instruments and so on, which every now and then make you think that a regular imitation is beginning, but which instantly turn their currents awry and lose themselves in some entirely contra evolution. The addition of the extra brass instruments did not prove so terrible and overwhelming as warnings from over sea had led many to suspect. Possibly Bruckner may have desired to circumvent some conductor who, like Mr. Gericke, meant that the audience should take the trombones and trumpets on trust, and so thought to obtain the effect he wanted by this device. But, if he had put in forty instead of four, the skilful and
                           Astute Boston Conductor
would have been a match for him; now and then they did manage to pour a little richness and volume into the mass of string and wood tone, but their triumph was short and Mr. Gericke's imperative left hand bottled them up again, although all the time the noble first horn was sailing along as full and free by his single self as tubas and trumpets altogether. How is it, I wonder – is Mr. Gericke afraid of the horn player with the Samsonian locks or does he love that round mellittuous tone so much? The orchestra did fair justice, for the most part, to the score, in accuracy and expressiveness, although in the last movement they seemed occasionally a little at fault. Besides the Bruckner symphony there was another new work, which the audience was glad to welcome and applaud. [... Arthut Foote ...Wieniawski-Konzert mit Adamowski ... Programm am 12.2.1887 ...]. HOWARD MALCOM TICKNOR."