The Musical QuarterlyOscar George Sonneck G. Schirmer., 1924 - 204 strán (strany) |
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æsthetic Alkan Arlo Bates artistic audience beautiful Beethoven Béla Bartók canzonetta century César Franck Chadwick character charm chord chorus color composer composition conception critical dance Debussy dramatic dynamic effect elements emotional expression fact Fauré feeling Festival Frottola genius German harmony hear heard human ideas impression inspiration instrument Italian later less libretto Liszt Lohengrin Loti Lowell lyric Madrigal major matter means melody minor triad modern Monteverdi movement Mozart musician musicology nature Nero Nerone opera orchestra Palestrina pedal performance phrase pianist piano piece played poem poet poetry polyphony polytonality Poppea Pouplinière present produced purely rhythm rhythmic Richard Strauss scene score Scriabin seems sense sing singers Sonata Song w. p. soul sound Strauss string style symphony Tannhäuser technical theme things tion tonal tone tragedy Tristan vibration violin vocal voices w. p. Wagner words writing written young
Populárne pasáže
Strana 557 - OVER his keys the musing organist, Beginning doubtfully and far away, First lets his fingers wander as they list, And builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay : Then, as the touch of his loved instrument Gives hope and fervor, nearer draws his theme, First guessed by faint auroral flushes sent Along the wavering vista of his dream.
Strana 561 - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays; Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, •An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
Strana 226 - Is not a patron, My Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water and, when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help?
Strana 214 - I knew a very wise man so much of Sir Chr — 's sentiment, that he believed if a man were permitted to make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws of a nation.
Strana 315 - What? Those lesser thirds so plaintive, sixths diminished, sigh on sigh, Told them something ? Those suspensions, those solutions — " Must we die ? " Those commiserating sevenths — " Life might last ! we can but try ! " "Were you happy?
Strana 558 - Then swelled the organ : up through choir and nave The music trembled with an inward thrill Of bliss at its own grandeur : wave on wave Its flood of mellow thunder rose, until The hushed air shivered with the throb it gave, Then, poising for a moment, it stood poi i", sti And sank and rose again, to burst in spray That wandered into silence far away.
Strana 560 - IN THE TWILIGHT MEN say the sullen instrument, That, from the Master's bow, With pangs of joy or woe, Feels music's soul through every fibre sent, Whispers the ravished strings More than he knew or meant; Old summers in its memory glow ; The secrets of the wind it sings ; It hears the...
Strana 302 - Never, never," whispered by the phantom years, And a song from out the distance in the ringing of thine ears; And an eye shall vex thee, looking ancient kindness on thy pain. Turn thee, turn thee on thy pillow; get thee to thy rest again. Nay, but nature brings thee solace; for a tender voice will cry; 'Tis a purer life than thine, a lip to drain thy trouble dry.
Strana 220 - I could not make him advance another step. I pressed my hat down upon my head, buttoned up my greatcoat, and walked with folded arms through the thickest of the throng. Princes and pages formed a line, the Archduke Rudolph took off his hat, and the Empress made the first salutation. Those gentry know me. I saw to my real amusement the procession file pass Goethe. He stood aside with his hat off, bending lowly. I rallied him smartly for it ; I gave him no quarter.
Strana 228 - Had in her sober livery all things clad ; Silence accompanied ; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale, She all night long her amorous descant sung...