us. To
my mind, it is in the power of suggestion that the vital spark
of music lies.
Before speaking of this, however, I wish to touch upon two
things: first, on what is called the science of music; and
secondly, on one of the sensuous elements of music which enters
into and encroaches upon all suggestion.
If one were called upon to define what is called the
intellectual side of music, he would probably speak of "form,"
contrapuntal design, and the like. Let us take up the matter
of form. If by the word "form" our theorists meant the most
poignant expression of poetic thought in music, if they meant
by this word the art of arranging musical sounds into the most
telling presentation of a musical idea, I should have nothing
to say: for if this were admitted instead of the recognized
forms of modern theorists for the proper utterance, we should
possess a study of the power of musical sounds which might
truly justify the title of musical intellectuality. As it is,
the word "form" stands for what have been called "stoutly
built periods," "subsidiary themes," and the like, a happy
combination of which in certain prescribed keys was supposed
to constitute good form. Such a device, originally based upon
the necessities and fashions of the dance, and changing from
time to time, is surely not worthy of the strange worship
it has received. A form of so doubtful an identity that the
first movement of a certain Beethoven sonata can be dubbed by
one authority "sonata-form," and by another "free fantasia,"
certainly cannot lay claim to serious intellectual value.
Form should be a synonym for _coherence_. No idea, whether
great or small, can find utterance without form, but that form
will be inherent to the idea, and there will be as many forms
as there are adequately expressed ideas. In the musical idea,
_per se_, analysis will reveal form.
The term "contrapuntal development" is to most tone poets of the
present day a synonym for the device of giving expression to
a musically poetic idea. _Per se_, counterpoint is a puerile
juggling with themes, which may be likened to high-school
mathematics. Certainly the entire web and woof of this
"science," as it is called, never sprang from the necessities of
poetic musical utterance. The entire pre-Palestrina literature
of music is a conclusive testimony as to the non-poetic and
even uneuphonious character of the invention.
In my opinion, Johann Sebastian Bach, one of the world's
|