frameworks of harmony have a blunt, indefinite, or softened character, when compared to similarly specific emotions called up by means of words or pictures. They are nevertheless, at the same time, equally or even more profound, subtil, and minutely variable ; and this their whole character, indefiniteness with subtilty, softness with depth, is what distinguishes them from the emotions of the other poetical arts, which live and move, as it were, in the definite and clear light of common day. Taking, then, the two general heads of cheerfulness and melancholy under which to group whatever more special musical emotions may be afterwards discriminated, we find that there are two general modes of framework, or of the combination of musical sounds, which correspond to them; and these are the Major and the Minor modes, in one or other of which all musical compositions are written. And Prof. Helmholtz has shown that the different character borne by the fundamental chord of the Minor mode, C Es G, as compared with the fundamental chord of the Major mode, C E G, is referable to the comparative deficiency of concord in its colour harmony, which again depends upon the discords in partial-tones or harmonics of its notes taken together with each other. Abschnitt 12. p. 325-8. The difference in emotional character therefore of the major and minor modes depends upon the different degrees of perfection of their colour concord. 7. If we could have singing without any words being heard, or attention strained to catch them, as is often the case in part-singing by a choir of voices, we should have music as pure as instrumental music alone is. The organ of voice is a musical instru BOOK I. CH. II. PART V. $42. The modes of poetry; the poetical arts. Music. BOOK I. CH. II. PART V. § 42. The modes of poetry; the poetical arts. Music. ment of great variability; and, so long as it is not employed to utter words that have definite meanings, vocal music is but one kind of instrumental. But whenever songs are set to music, or verses are delivered in recitative, or even when a title is given to a piece of instrumental music, so as to name the subject which it is intended to illustrate, a non-musical element is at once introduced. Instrumental harmony is the pure reasoning of music; the thoroughly trained lover of music not only does not require but rejects more than this as intrusive and destructive. Yet it is not unpermitted to descend from these heights of abstract music, and enjoy its combination with other kinds of poetry, the poetry of words as in the Oratorio, or words assisted by visible scenery as in the Opera. The Oratorio seems to have taken the place of the Greek tragedy, the Opera for the most part of their comedy. Both alike however reverse the position which the music held to the words in ancient times; for it will be admitted, I think, that both in modern Oratorio and Opera the music is the chief or dominant interest, while the words are employed to define and enforce the otherwise purely musical emotions. If the words and their poetry were the chief interest, to which the music was subordinate, it would be requisite that the metre and rhythm of the words should be followed by the melody, which is the metre and rhythm of music; which there is reason to believe was the case in the Greek drama, when music had not attained to harmonic maturity; whereas in the present day, as may be tested constantly, the words are divided, repeated, omitted, not so as to insist upon their beauty or force, but so as to fall in with the independently written melody and harmony of the music. There are however instances in modern times of music being employed to illustrate poetry, and of both words and music being gainers. Such an instance is Beethoven's setting of Goethe's words "Kennst du das Land," in which equal honour is paid to words and to music. But it may be doubted whether such an alliance on equal terms between music and words is any longer possible on a large scale, such as an Opera or an Oratorio would be. The truth perhaps is, that the mind cannot be attending at one and the same time to the perfection of word poetry and the perfection of sound poetry. The development of music in modern times has given it this profound and engrossing character, placing it in an equal rank with word poetry, and for ever forbidding its combination with poetry on the same terms as in the ancient drama. For we no longer enjoy that kind of music which could be employed, at its best, to enforce and accompany without destroying the rhythm and meaning of words. If the two are combined at the present day, it must therefore be on the condition of complete subordination of one of them; and then the mind can take pleasure in the combination. The case of music being subordinated to the words and the action, in the drama at least, is of so little importance that it hardly needs mention. The employment of music in certain parts of religious services, as in chanting, intoning, and singing hymns, is more noticeable; but this is in strictness beyond the domain of poetical art. But where the music is made the dominant element of the combination, it will not be a purely musical pleasure that will be afforded; the mere fact of combination shows that the spectators require something BOOK I. CH. II. PART V. § 42. The modes of poetry; the poetical arts. Music. more than pure music, namely, the enforcement of the purely musical emotions by dialogue, action, and scenery, in an Opera, by words descriptive of well known and interesting histories in an Oratorio. On these terms only can modern music, with its richness of colour harmony, be enjoyed, namely, either alone in purely instrumental music, or, if in combination with words and action, only on condition of these being completely subordinated to the music. 8. Architecture is also synthetic or constructive, but not freely. It is the lowest of the fine arts, because it is always subordinate to a use or purpose which is not only external to itself, but also often not poetical or emotional. Its poetical character rises in proportion to the purpose of the building in which it is displayed. Monuments to the dead and temples for religious worship are the kind of buildings in which the greatest scope is allowed for the emotional character of architecture to display itself freely. But so far as architecture is allowed scope, its method is that of constructive and not descriptive imagination. Solemnity, grandeur, majesty, endurance, awe, are the kinds of emotion which it is then capable of expressing, in addition to the æsthetic emotions of elegance and beauty of proportion. It impresses on its buildings, or rather expresses in them, a character or personification similar to that which mountains, trees, or landscapes, inspire us with; it is in constructive imagination what landscape painting is in descriptive; it is a creation of new visible objects in space, as music is of sounds in time. The impression made on us by noble buildings is that they have a character and personality of their own; the architect has no doubt learnt the art of impressing this per sonality upon them from the observation of the effect of natural objects, such as mountains and woods, on himself; this is to him what the observation of the human voice is to the constructive musician. Before either can create he must have observed and interpreted. 9. Landscape painting, historical painting, and portraiture, are all modes of analytic or descriptive imagination; they interpret nature like a commentary; the reproduction of nature is so managed as to bring out and render clear the emotion which it inspires in the artist. He gives prominence, or otherwise draws our attention, to the features in the landscape, historical event, or human figure, which have been to him the framework of some subtil emotion, often too vague for words to reproduce; and thus makes it strike the spectator in the same way. It is requisite that the spectator should have the same. capacity and interest, though not the same productive power, as the artist, in order to take pleasure in such features and such emotions. 10. Constructive painting is seen in such works as Raphael's Madonna di San Sisto; less purely in works which border on the historical, or contain landscape, such as Titian's Bacchus and Ariadne. Paul Veronese stands closer still to the historical; for instance, in his Alexander and the Family of Darius in the National Gallery, and in his Marriage at Cana in the Dresden Gallery. The glory and pomp of life is however an emotion which he usually contrives to impart to his pictures; they become like a play of Shakespeare frozen into cauvass; and this imparting of emotion from the painter himself gives them a certain constructive character. VOL. I. Воок І. CH. II. PART V. § 42. The modes of poetry; the poetical arts. Painting. |