Besprechung des gestrigen Konzerts mit der 9. Symphonie in The Inter Ocean Nr. 300 (Chicago, Illinois) auf S. 6 [einige Buchstaben in der Vorlage kaum lesbar]:

"             Anton Bruckner, Symphonist.

     Contempt for Anton Bruckner has been a very defiant contempt in the minds of those to whom his music has been a transfiguration of the logarithm tables; and this attitude, confined not only to many of the general public, but felt by excellent musicians as well, is not at all difficult to appreciate. On this account, conductors of symphony orchestras in Mr. Stock's position are naturally a bit shy in their propaganda for a composer whose chief obstacle to popularity is the fact that he knew too much and felt too little. The audience at Orchestra hall listened to his "Unfinished" symphony in D minor, yesterday afternoon, with real devotion for the first movement, genuine interest for the second and fast-fading tolerance for the third. Ernest Schellling's notable performance of the Liszt A major concerto, after the intermission, restored tranquillity of soul, and the Berlioz "Cellini' 'overture completed the concert.

     In one humble opinion, Anton Bruckner was obsessed by a fertile mind and a charliable meter. He wrote and wrote and wrote because he thoought and thought and thought. The goddess of the shears and blue pencil, offended by his lack of sacrifice on her altar, left that shrine in a huff. And Bruckner kept on thinking; also writing.

     But this is the superficial preamble to the real opinion. Examination of his scores, lively recollection of Mr. Stock's wonderful performance of the C minor symphony two years ago and rather shadowy recollections of Theodore Thomas' reading of the "Unfinished" several seasons back compel sincere admiration of a craftmanship nothing short of marvelous [?]. The tricks of the contrapuntia[?] Bruckner seems to have absorbed with his nursing bottle. His sense of the orchestra, though sometimes an awkward method of instrumentation, is a distinctive trait in his scores. Formally, Bruckner's works have the sturdiness which hints–especially in the slow movement of this D minor symphony–of logical precedure from the Beethoven ninth.

     But the real Bruckner is revealed in his thematic substance. Here is a composer to whom the word "originality" had no esoteric meaning. His subjects are long-winded, loose-jointed, sporadic affairs, recking neither of metrical mannerisms nor of previous condition of subservience. In other words, Bruckner elaborated his themes for their fecundity, not for their melodic sheen. That some one else might charge "patterning" interested him not a jot. And it is a queer aspect of the case that these epic lengths of subject matter are often a correlation through sympathy rather than through logic. Lastly, these themes, naturally enough, fall into persistent sequences–sequences of motif, sequence of whole phrases, or of harmonic progression.

     Like the pot o' gold at the rainbow's end, the infinite possibilities of variation fascinated Bruckner the more as he worked in his plastic material. Wherefore thought he long, and wrote he long. But behind this eternal sprouting of variation was the fervor of a conviction. That conviction was not the enthusiasm of the romancer or the poet, but of the votary of a pure, "Gothic" art–music in which the juvenile elements of emotional "message," or epigram, or heart's-ease, or graceful persiflage had no being. In this Brahms and Bruckner, the two serious symphonists of the epoch, differed entirely. For Brahms held fealty to the lyric vein, no matter how rigid the form in which he worked–witness the passacaglia in the E minor symphony–while Bruckner philosophized with the serenity of a theologian.

     The D minor symphony's first movement is a Bruckner summary. Though you find it a heterogeneous epic, its detail is wonderful. The crackling scherzo, with its quizzical trio, nearly became a popular "hit." The slow movement, over-long even for Bruckner and more leaky of joint than the others, is again the Bruckner of a deeply fervid meditation, on which no alarm clock breaks with its exasperating clang.

     Mr. Stock's interpretation was one of the big studies of the season. It had breadth and steadiness of inspiration, the symmetry of clear planning, the warmth of a heedful sympathy with the great philosophical undertone, a quick vitalizing of every dramatic humanizing touch of poetic embellishment. The orchestra gave one of its masterly performances in the first two movements, and merits appreciative recognition on that score. The slow movement was rather raggedly played.

     Mr. Schelling's interpretation of the Liszt concerto was the other high light of the afternoon. [... 10 Zeilen ...]. Mr. Schelling's success was richly deserved.

     Hugo Kaun's "Mary Magdalene," a symphonic prologue, began the program. This well-styled, sustained, at times brilliant composition–if a bit stodgy in moments–was generously applauded.

                                          ERIC DELAMARTER." (*).

 

Deutlich kürzer fällt die Bespechung im Chicago Examiner Nr. 24 auf S. 9 aus:

"ERNEST SCHELLING, CHICAGO PIANIST, REVEALS MASTERY

[... Liszt-Konzert, eigene Zugabe ...].

     The program prepared by Mr. Stock for this concert contained another very interesting work, the ninth symphony by the Austrian composer Anton Bruckner. It is an unfinished composition, and was played in memory of the late Bernhard Ziehn of Chicago, who was one of Bruckner's most ardent admirers. The symphony–that is, the three movements–disclosed many passages of extraordinary musical genius.

     The first section, Feierlich (impressive), is solemn and dignified, and is cast in magnificent harmonic mold. The scherzo which follow [sic] is really the most original and distinctive. It is worthy of our greatest musical creators. The adagio, however,  is somewhat too long, and its development grows tiresome. The work received at the hands of the orchestra under Stock's direction an inspired performance.

     Hugo Kaun's symphonic prologue, "Mary Magdalen," op. 44, is a tone picture of vivid orchestral colors, and the overture to "Benvenuto Cellini," by Hector Berlioz, which brought the concert to a close, is a dramatic piece of symphonic writing. The program will be repeated this evening at 8:15, with Ernest Schelling again appearing as soloist." [keine Signatur] (**).