Besprechungen der Konzerts am 18.3.1909 in New York mit der 8. Symphonie:
(*) The Sun

 

 

 

The Sun Nr. 200 (New York) berichtet auf S. 9 von der gestrigen Aufführung der 8. Symphonie:

"             THE BOSTON ORCHESTRA

     The fifth and last evening concert of the Boston Symphony Orchestra at Carnegie Hall last night began with Anton Bruckner's eighth symphony, which had never before been heard in this city. The work was begun in 1885 and completed in 1890. Its first performance took place in Vienna in 1892 at the Philharmonic Concert under the direction of Hans Richter. The symphony had to face the uncompromising hostility of Eduard Hanslick, the famous Viennese critic, whose power was immeasurably greater than that of any critic known to English speaking peoples.

     Bruckner's admirer's  flocked to the concert and the perform,ance of the new work was greeted wich such demonstrations as are reserved in this city for the revelation of some overpuffed and belauded prima donna. The musician Bruckner was always a storm centre, for he was elected by opponents of Brahms as a representative of the Wagnerian spirit in instrumental music. This apparently never did Brahms any harm, though it unnecessarily embittered him against a very honest and well meaning man.

     If the advocates of Bruckner had also celebrated him as the embodiment of Wagnerian imitation in instrumental music they would have had the mighty reenforcement of truth in the battle foo their cause. But in the waging of artistic wars truth is not always a welcome ally.

     The symphony heard last night bears all the hallmarks of Bruckner. Its thematic material is moulded in his familiar patterns. It is rectangular in the allegros and grandiose in the adagios. It is ponderous in the scherzo and pompous in the finale.

     The harmonic plan is intricate and its design offers little that is profoundly convincing. There are many pages of music made with resolution rather than inspiration, and there are passages which approach perilously close to empty commonplace. Finally, the voice of Wagner is heard not infrequently, till in the closing measures of the work it bursts forth in all the pomp and circumstance of the close of "Rheingold," and Mr. Bruckner's gods march triumphantly into the Walhalla of Baireuth.

     Yet in spite of these traits this is not a symphony to be sniffed out of court. It is the work of a deeply serious man, who labored with infinite pains and with solid intellect. There are several heaven storming pages in the score. It was not altogether Bruckner's fault that the heavens refused to open and to gladden his heart with a glimpse of eternal glory.

     The first movement struggles vigorously with aspirations too big for the composer's management. Time and again the hearer fancies that the splendid instant is at hand only to find that the tone poet is compelled to pause in his fight for want of breath. The working out is ingenious, but it is machine ingenuity and not spontaneity.

     We fare somewhat better when we enter the second movement, which is the scherzo. Here we find a rude, aggressive theme of four notes as the foundation of the movement. There is not a spark of humor in this scherzo nor is there any of that thrilling grimness which makes imposing some of the scherzos of Beethoven. As for grace, Bruckner knows it not. This scherzo is simply persistent.

     But its trio is altogether different. Here for once the composer seems to have sallied forth into the Wienerwald and rejuvenated himself with the spirit of outdoor life. It is as pastoral as Bruckner, the recluse and scholiast, could well be. And it has fluent melody and sonorous harmony to give it charm.

     The third movement is said to be the longest adagio in symphonic music. Whether that be true or not the claim made for it that it is the greatest adagio has at least some reason for existence. Not that we should be ready to award it the palm, but no one can fail to perceive the depth and breadth of this musical conception.

     It is broken into blocks, as all Bruckner's movements are. It lacks the irresistible logic of relentless musical development. It conveys the effect of episodic construction. It is too long, much too long. And it is in places pretentious rather than satisfying. But as a whole it is a notable piece of writing, beautiful in mood, rising at times to splendid flights of imagination, orchestrated with noble color and deeply felt from beginning to end.

    No wonder that the admirers of Bruckner were wont to believe that if he could only have heard his own music oftener he would have applied the process of selfcriticism and come out of the trial a strong and triumphant master, acknowledged by the whole world.

     They had some ground for their faith. Indeed what unprejudiced hearers of this movement must feel is genuine regret that Bruckner could not have had the benefit of closer contact with his time, of larger acquaintance with the thought and emotion of other sincere men, to the end that he might have brought himself to cast his large aspirations in a firmer mold and with the method of a more practical art.

     The last movement of this C minor symphony has little to commend it to the general music lover. It is like the other three in the honesty of its intent and the effort of its treatment. But it lacks any evidence of the divine spark. It is a piece of prodigious labor, and that is all. Its ultimate outcome in an echo of Wagner's "Rheingold" has been mentioned.

     The other novelty of the concert followed the Bruckner symphony. [... Paul Scheinpflugs Ouvertüre ... Programmtext von Philip Hale ...]. It was excellently played, despite the labor which the orchestra had just completed in its superb performance of the symphony. The other two numbers on the programme were Debussy's prelude to the "Afternoon of a Faun" and Wagner's "Meistersinger" vorspiel. Max Fiedler conducted the novelties with much skill and sympathy." [keine Signatur] (*).

 

New York Tribune Nr. 22769 auf S. 7:

"                      MUSIC

     When the present generation of concert-goers has grown old there may still be expected to appear here, at decent intervals, a new symphony by Anton Bruckner. This, at least, is the indication given by the rate of progress thus far made in this part of the world by the music of the industrious Austrian composer, who finished his work and passed on in 1896. Bruckner wrote a sheaf of symphonies, but most of them are still unknown here, though another one, his eighth, in C minor, was added last evening to the local repertory by the Boston Symphony Orchestra, under Mr. Max Fiedler. It took a little over an hour to make acquaintance with this score, and when its story was told the impression made was not greatly different from that left on at least one similar occasion. Bruckner speaks in the grand manner, and with a voice that often attains surpassing beautry of orchestral color. Certain of his proclamations, notably that of the brass choir in the final movement, begin with the eloquence of an oracle, but ere they have progressed far what they are uttering is found, after all, to be not much more than some musical truism long since bereft of any but the tritest character. Or, to refer again to the nobly sonorous message of the brass instruments above cited, it is one of several passages in which Bruckner has not been able to forget what Richard Wagner had done before him; here, it is "Parsifal" that haunts the consciousness of the composer and of his auditors.

     This C minor symphony is in four movements, the first marked allegro moderato, the second a scherzo, with an andante middle section; the third a very long and often very lovely adagio, and the finale a solemn summing up of the matter. The opening theme piques curiosity, and at the same gives promise of a grim power not destined to be realized. The melodic contours soon lose their functional quality, and there are long passages from which the impulse and fervor of creation are wholly absent. Yet even in this first movement, the least interesting of the four, there are episodes that momentarily arouse the hearer's perception of what is broadly or persuasively beautiful. The scherzo is shorter, and it represents the composer at his best. Its leading theme, aptly described by the annotator of the programme book as possessing a rough humor, discloses vitality and provides a basic design that yields some variety in its development. The trio of the scherzo, already referred to, is gracious and winning. Bruckner set no bounds to his musical meditation in the adagio, and it is full of fine fancies, some of them pursued until they elude the composer and his auditors, and some again carried to definite conclusions. The last movement falls below the second and third in interest, at least at a first hearing, but it is stamped with the same touch of grandiloquence that ever and anon comes near to being transformed into genuine eloquence and conviction, only to fall short of compassing real importance of musical thought.

     The performance of this Bruckner score by Mr. Fiedler and the Boston musicians was strongly accented throughout, and the work fairly glistened with orchestral felicities. The brass choir was especially happy in its very considerable task; Bruckner leaned heavily upon this section of his band, and wrote for its members with consummate skill. The role given to the four tenor tubas by the composer was particularly fortunate, and last evening's doings emphasized the distinction and effectiveness of these instruments. The audience showed by its temperate applause that the new symphony had not created a deep impression.

     Not content with playing one novelty, Mr. Fiedler followed the Bruckner work by Paul Scheinpflug's "Overture to a Comedy of Skakespeare," Op. 15. [... über dieses und ganz kurz über die weiteren Werke ...]."

[keine Signatur, vermutlich aber von H. E. Krehbiel] (**).

 

The New York Times Nr. 18682 auf S. 9:

"              THE BOSTON ORCHESTRA.

     The Boston Symphony Orchestra is in New York on the last visit it will make this season, and gave its last evening concert yesterday in Carnegie Hall. There was no solo performer, and interest of the concert was centred on the orchestra's performance of Bruckner's Eighth Symphony in C minor, Paul Scheinpflug's overture to a comedy of Shakespeare, Debussy's Prelude to "The Afternoon of a Faun" and the prelude to Wagner's "Die Meistersinger."

     Mr. Fiedler seems to have undertaken to carry on the Bruckner crusade that Dr. Muck brought to New York in each of the two years in which he conducted the orchestra; and thus in three successive seasons there have been three of Bruckner's symphonies given in New York by the Boston Orchestra. The one heard last evening was played for the first time in this country. Though the symphony has been eighteen years in reaching the United States, for it was finished in 1890, it has somewhat more to commend it to the acceptance of music lovers than most of the others by the same composer that have been heard here. It is in oparts more musically interesting; some of the ideas are more tangible and more coherently presented; yet the work suffers from most of the faults that are so patent in the others.

     It is exceedingly long; it is exceedingly diffuse and discursive. Many of the musical subjects in themselves lack interest, and the composer's method of development by incessant repetition and the elaboration, piece by piece and fragment by fragment, of many of his themes becomes in the end–or rather, long before the end–exhausting. There is in this eighth symphony the same strange juxtaposition that is found in the others, of finely conceived and even noble passages alongside of laborious, dry, and tedious music making. In this, as in the other symphonies, Bruckners betrays the lack of concentration of idea and of the power of self-criticism, that works to destroy the value and potency of his work.

     There is here, as elsewhere, the stronf suggestion of Wagner's influence that he gladly admitted. It is seen in the character of certain of his themes, in his instrumentation, and in the general physiognomy of more than a few pages of the score, as in the climax of the last movement, which recalls again the last scene of "Das Rheingold." The long adagio, which some have found to be the finest of all symphonic adagios, has certainly many fine and deeply impressive passages, but it is characteristic of Bruckner that these are passages only, and that he does not sustain the whole movement on a high level of interest. The heavy-footed scherzo has rough humor, and the trio maintains the listener's interest longer than any other section of the work.

     Mr. Fiedler conducted the symphony with intense zeal and conviction, and realized, as it seemed, all the composer's intentions in sympathy with his spirit. There were many in the audience who applauded warmly, yet the symphony clearly did not impress itself deeply upon the great body of the listeners. The fervent admiration for Bruckner that a number of great conductors and authoritative students music have expressed by words and deeds was scarcely more convincingly explained by this performance than by those that have preceded it in the recent experience of New York concertgoers.

     Scheinpflug's overture to a Shakespearean  comedy is the work of a man whose name is strange to New York. [... über dieses Werk ...]." [keine Signatur] (***).

 

The Evening World auf S. 15:

"Bruckner's Eighth Symphony Gets a Hearing

    By Sylvester Rawling.

It's a pity we have had to wait so long to hear Bruckner's eighth symphony. If Dr. Karl muck had offered us that two years ago instead of the composer's seventh or his unfinished ninth, we might have escajped [sic] a lot of controversy. To Max Fiedler, Dr. Muck's successor as conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, we are indebted for an exposition last night at Carnegie Hall of this remarkable work. It is too long, as all modern symphonies are wont to be, but it is never dull. It is melodious throughout and replete with sensuous charm. We shall gladly welcome a chance to hear it again.

     As long ago as 1892 this symphony got its first performance in Vienna, and it seems strange that never until last night were New York music lovers given a chance to hear it. No more strange, however, than that Smetana's opera, "The Bartered Bride," the success of the season at the Metropolitan Opera-House, had to wait a quarter of a century before it was introduced to us.

     Speculation as to the composer's programme may be overlooked at a first hearing, and the work enjoyed for its own sake. There is all of the Bruckner discursiveness in the first movement, but its elevation of spirit is not to be denied. The scherzo is delightful throughout, breathing joyousness. This is followed by twenty minutes of an adagio, so compelling in conception and so beautiful in detail that one forgets its length. Then comes the finale, a lofty proclamation, fittingly rounding out the whole.

     The symphony was played well-high perfectly by this unmatched orchestra, and Max Fiedler by his conducting of it won a new place for himself in the estimation of New York music lovers." (°).