only when the accompanist is in full sympathy with the voice and the thought. Mr. A. J. Goodrich, Chicago. The limited amount of time at my disposal precludes the possibility of preparing an adequate response to your thesis or to your antithesis. However, the topic of discussion is too important to be passed in silence. It is not a very strong argument to say that recitations with music always please the people, because the people are sometimes pleased with the most childish, kaleidoscopic effects. But let us consider the conditions which exist in such a dual work as the Byron-Schumann "Manfred." The composer (himself a literator) selected an episode which admits alternate musical and oratorical treatment. Certain portions of the text are lyric; others are dramatic or descriptive; but the major portion is purely oratorical or narrative. The lyric and the dramatic passages Schumann treated musically, with solo, chorus, or orchestral color. The oratorical or abstract portions he left to the reader as most capable of imparting the proper expression. These principles (though perhaps not clearly formulated) have long been recognized by the greatest composers. This is evidenced by the numerous parlando passages which occur in songs and in operas. The Poor Mariner," by Mililotti, is a simple illustration. Most of the vocal part is monotonic, because the narration is declamatory. The characteristic music coloring is mostly confided to the accompanist. When the text becomes abstract or philosophic, music must step aside and allow speech to proclaim. It is so in the melodramatic music of Beethoven, Schumann, Wagner, Massenet, and in "The Dream of Jubal," by Mackenzie. Additional examples are furnished by the greatest vocal artists: Maurel in "Falstaff;" Calvé in "Carmen" and as Santuzza; Henschel in such songs as Die Beider Grenadiere," and Marie Brema in the "ErlKing." At the close of the last Mme. Brema does not attempt to sing "the child was dead,"-that would be absurd-but she speaks the words. The only questions to be determined seem to me to be these: (1) Does the poem admit this dual treatment? (2) Are the words and the music by acknowledged masters? If these conditions are fulfilled, I would vote in favor of recitations with music; for the objection that speech does not harmonize with a varying musical tonality is hypothetical, and based upon acoustic, rather than upon artistic conditions. 44 Miss Mabel M. Gormley, New York. The first aim of the elocutionist is to interpret literature, to present the thought of the author, and anything that interferes with this reproduction should be condemned. Generally speaking, I do not approve of musical accompaniments, for unless most carefully chosen and adapted they are apt to produce a discordant rather than an harmonious effect; as, for instance, having a choir chant · Deposuit potentes, desede.' etc., in King Robert of Sicily," or, after telling the audience that "the great church organ pealed forth the wedding-march," to have a march played on a piano. Such incongruities offend the artistic sense of cultured people. On the other hand, however; if we can, by the addition of music, enhance our effects, be more pleasing to, and gain the closer attention of, our audience, without interfering with the presentation of the thought, I do not see why we should not add it. Take The Minuet," with the accompaniment and the dance-steps, and it is pleasing and not inharmonious. Readings with orchestral music, in which the music is not so much an accompaniment as an interlude, are certainly delightful and restful to the audience; and though the presentation of the thought is no clearer by the addition of the music, it is in no way interfered with,-the harmonious blending makes the production a work of art. As artists, we should be privileged to use any means that will help to produce a pleasing and artistic effect. That some members of the profession do not need nor wish such accompaniments is not a good nor a sufficient reason why others should not use them, providing, of course, that it is use and not abuse. The general disapproval of musical recitations that has arisen in the profession has been caused, I think, mainly by using unsuitable music, lack of its proper subordination, and its inartistic introduction, as above stated, without rhythm or reason. Mrs. Isabel Hodgson, New York. I am decidedly in favor of musical accompaniment for some recitations. The music, however, should be played so softly that it is an additional charm, without distracting the mind of the hearer from the subject. If the music is happily chosen, it is connected with the piece, in one's mind, ever after. I can cite one instance, where I heard "Primroses" given, accompanied by one of Mendelssohn's "Songs Without Words." It had a mest entrancing effect. The day outside was bleak and wintry; indoors all was sunshine. It seemed as if you could almost smell the blossoms of the May time. I could see green fields, running brooks, deep blue sky with those fleecy clouds that scud over it, on those breezy spring days, until my whole being was permeated with that indescribable feeling we all no doubt have felt at times upon hearing a song or a certain strain of music. That poem and music is never heard without carrying me back to that day with the peculiar feeling of pleasure so intense that it was akin to pain." The greatest judgment should be used, however, as music, in some cases, would utterly destroy the effect desired. Miss Mary H. Mansfield, New York. Place me among the pros, for I certainly have derived great pleasure from all such performances hitherto, as it has been my privilege to attend and hear several people who excel in that line of professional work. Mrs. Arthur Smith, New York. If prevented from joining you, I will now express my liking for musical recitations, if the words and the musical setting fully accord. As music is the language of the world of vibration, and produces and alters the soul's phases by establishing unity of vibration, surely recitations will be more impressive and effective, and we shall be lifted into higher spiritual planes, if the words are accompanied by fitting music. Miss Charlotte Sulley, New York. In reference to musical recitations, I would say that when artistically used, music adds greatly to the effect; but I deem it essential that the reciter be a thorough musician-then he has the knowledge to adjust or fit the music to the reading-the music must not overshadow the recitation. Mr. Alfred Young, Brooklyn. Myviews" are rather Bunsbyist. Everyone to his taste and to what his conscience tells him. With a reader who subordinates himself to his poet, and a musician who is subordinate to both reader and poet, musical recitations appear to me to be perfectly legitimate and altogether charming. Letters have been received also from the following: Miss Helen Alt-Müller, Brooklyn. Mrs. Sarah Cowell Le Moyne, New York. Mr. Francis Fischer Powers, New York. Mr. Louis Arthur Russell, New York. The Chairman: Mr. Edgar Stillman Kelley will now address us, his particular theme being "Concerning Incidental Music for the Drama." Mr. Kelley's Address. In his "History of English Literature" Taine alludes to Shakespeare as "a man with a perfect imagination," one who possessed "the pro digious faculty of seeing in a twinkling of the eye a complete character, body, mind, past and present, in every detail and every depth of his being, with the exact attitude and the expression of face, which the situation demanded." nation Doubtless to a man with an imagieven remotely related to Shakespeare's, the only ideal enjoyment of a drama is that afforded by its perusal in the solitude of one's chamber. This chamber should be absolutely quiet, comfortable, and devoid of ornament, so that nothing shall render the reader conscious of physical existence or interfere with the mind-pictures called forth by the text. Next to this perfect solitary enjoyment of a play, is the pleasure derived from reading it aloud and sharing it with others. Better yet, if the work be rendered by a welltrained and capable elocutionist. I have even heard the opinion given that Shakespeare's plays should always be thus read-not acted; more than this, some say that these works were never intended for the stage. Nevertheless, if we can believe but a small proportion of what has been written concerning the great dramatist, he did, in spite of his "perfect imagination," enjoy stage-productions. At least, he took part in them, helped manage them and profited materially thereby. When we read of the meagre stage-appointments of Shakespeare's time, it is remarkable to see how little was required to sat isfy the demands of the public. But the reason for this is found in the fact that the spectators of that age were blessed with youthful enthusiasm and imagination. In early life the imagination, like the memory, is stronger than in later years. As the mind often retains the simple incidents of childhood with greater ease than the weightier events of maturer years, so the imagination is more readily roused. Notice how children are amused with toys of simple construction and with what satisfaction they dwell upon details wholly fictitious. A cane or a broomstick serves as a horse-white, black, or brown-while the rider becomes a jockey, a mounted policeman, or possibly a general, who in the heat of battle personally slays hosts of formidable foes,-he requires no scenery to fill in the background. But as the other faculties become exercised, the imagination, like the memory, is weakened. Before the art of printing had confused the mind of man with a multitude of distracting topics, feats of memory were achieved which seem almost impossible to us. Entire epic poems were recited by bards and minstrels, and it is said that even at the present day, should every copy of the Koran be destroyed, it could be reproduced in a similar manner. A similar strength of the imagination prevailed when the English race was young and the British drama was in its infancy. Few accessories were required to maintain the interest in a mystery or a miracle-play, nor were the dramas of Shakespeare presented in a much more elaborate manner. As in the Chinese theatre of the present day, there was little or no movable scenery, while properties and mechanical contrivances necessary for the rising of ghosts or the flying of witches and fairies were either crude or missing altogether. As is also customary in the Chinese theatre, the female characters were played by smooth-faced youths. The costumes were often brilliant, but no attempt was made to insure historical accuracy, while the music was equally primitive in its nature. All this was acceptable to the general public, but by degrees the critical faculties were awakened and a demand created for better stage-settings. In other words, as the mind became absorbed in other matters, it became necessary, in order to enjoy a play properly, to stimulate the imagination by improving scenery, costumes, machinery and music. But, like progress in everything else, this was accomplished in the face of difficulties. Not many years ago, Hanslick, the well-known Viennese musical critic, took exception to the sumptuous scenery and gorgeous costumes provided for a revival of "The Magic Flute." Said he: "We come to enjoy Mozart's music, not to study Egyptology!" Many of us can recall the absurd scenery which contented some of our American "stars" within the last two decades. Bearing this in mind, there must have been opposition on the part of the seventeenth century Philistines when artistic scenery was attempted. Lord Bacon, in his "Essay on Masques and Triumphs," speaks apologetically of the innovation. "It is true," he observes, "the alteration of scenes so it be done quietly and without noise-are things of great beauty and pleasure, for they feed and relieve the eye before it be full of the same object." The idea of women playing the female roles met with marked tokens of disapproval. After the first attempt to introduce actresses from France, "Thomas Brand, a stout Puritan, in a comment to Archbishop Laud, remarks: 'Glad am I to say they were hissed, hooted, pippin-pelted from the stage, so that I do not think they will soon be ready to try the same again.' Yet more sober-minded people did not fail to see the propriety of Juliet being represented by a girl rather than by a boy."* It seems to have required a longer period to awaken an appreciation for historical accuracy in costumes, etc., for as late as the last century little attention was paid to the clothing of a character as long as it looked well. A print in the hall of the Players' Club represents Garrick as Romeo, wearing a wig, clad in knee-breeches. It is said that he played Richard III. and Hamlet in the same costume, and we can well imagine an actor of that period objecting to an unusual costume lest more attention be paid to his clothes than to the individual within. But whatever obstacles were placed in the way of the artists who have made the stage more attractive, they were small in comparison with those obstacles which have hampered the progress of the composers who have sought by means of tones to emphasize and intensify the most striking dramatic situations and stimulate the imagination where nothing else could accomplish this result. The public mind at the present day is so overwhelmed with the contemplation of hard facts relating to material affairs, that the happy faculty of invoking fanciful creations at will has become almost a lost art. Few, therefore, will claim that they are blessed with the Shakespearian gift of painting scenery, actors and actions upon the canvas of the imagination, by the simple means of black letters and white paper. If Shakespeare enjoyed dramatic performances - crude as they were in his day-to us they become a necessity, and the artistic manager is fully justified, in the mounting of his plays, in calling to his assistance all the arts in order the better to interpret the idea of the poet. * Doran's" Annals of the Stage." Of all the arts employed in connection with the stage, none renders more efficient service when properly introduced than music, the only art which during the last century has attained heights hitherto undreamt of. As these heights were chiefly discovered in the realm of dramatic thought, the subject of incidental music is deserving of special attention. etc. From the earliest times music has been employed in connection with the drama. The plays of Shakespeare contain many stage-directions calling for songs, trumpets, Some of the songs, it is true, have a quaint charm and an archaic flavor, but the instrumental music certainly would have been a disturbance rather than a help to our enjoyment. Possibly the lutes might have pleased us, but the stage-direction "flourish of trumpets and drums" arouse our apprehension. At no more remote date than last spring, and in a company as artistic in its aims as that of Henry Irving, trumpets on the stage were heard blowing in one key while trumpets in the orchestra were blowing in another! If such cacophony is permitted to arise in the nineteenth century, even through carelessness, what discordant disasters must have occurred in the Globe Theatre! sug Another of Shakespeare's stagedirections is "hautboys and torches," or simply "hautboys." This gestion at first thought seems innocent enough, until we recall the fact that it is only within the last 150 years that the hautboy or oboe has become an indoor instrument. Previous to that time (at least in England), the tone of the hautboy was harsh and raspy, like that of the Chinese dee-dah, and the Arabian reed-trumpet such as one hears on the Midway Plaisance. Colliers, in his "History of English Dramatic Poetry," tells of a play "Sophinisba," produced in 1606, in which the entr'act music was thus specified: "The cornets and organs playing loud, full music for Act I., organs mixed with recorders for Act II., organs, viols and voices for Act III., and a bass lute and a treble viol for Act IV. In Act V. we are twice told that 'infernal music plays softly."" In the "Essay on Masques and Triumphs," previously quoted, Bacon makes the following suggestions: "Let the songs be loud and cheerful and not chirpings or pulings. Let the music likewise be sharp and loud, and well placed." He apologizes for He apologizes for commenting on such frivolities at the end of the essay-"But enough of these toys!" It is easy to note the progress in musical dramatic characterization since the time of Shakespeare, and a glance at the history of music during the last 100 years and more will show that melodramatic music has been repeatedly composed by the greatest masters, and often employed with marked success. In the last century Rousseau's " Pygmalion," a lyric work the entire text of which was spoken, created quite a sensation at the Comedie Française in Paris. Georg Benda, a Bohemian, also composed similar melodramas, "Media" and "Ariadne auf Naxos," which so delighted Mozart that he undertook the composition of a similar work, "Semiramis," of which, however, nothing further is known. Beethoven wrote an overture, entr'acts, songs, and melodramas for Goethe's "Egmont." Even in his "Fidelio," where all the accessories of grand opera were at his command, the composer chose to express himself by means of melodrama rather than in set vocal numbers, and these passages in the Prison Scene belong to the most effective of the entire opera. Von Weber, in "Preciosa," and also in "Der Freischütz," introduced many effec tive passages of melodramatic music. Mendelssohn's music written for the Berlin stage-production of Shakespeare's 'Midsummer Night's Dream" is a masterpiece of this ciass of work, and is furthermore the most inspired and original composition of that gifted master. Mendelssohn subsequently wrote. similar music for Racine's "Athalia" and the dramas of Sophocles, "Edipus in Colonus" and "Antigone," but these all bear the marks of hastily prepared Gelegenheitsmusik. Schumann's music to Byron's "Manfred" belongs to the most individual of the creations of that genius, altogether the strongest effort of his last period. Although Byron particularly requests that "Manfred" be regarded merely as a poem and not as a drama intended for the stage, the beauty of Schumann's music led Herr Ernst Possart, one of the leading actors and stage-managers of Germany, to produce it in connection with the music and scenic accessories. Singularly enough," Manfred " in this form proved a decided success in Berlin and other German cities, but it is doubtful whether this would be possible in any other country, for there the drama is regarded as a means of education rather than as a mere source of amusement. A unique feature of this "Manfred" pro duction was Herr Possart's rendering of the melodramas, which his fine voice enabled him to give in a manner quite his own. Beginning certain sentences with an intonation of the text, he gradually permitted it to run into speech as suggested in the following illustration (from Act III.) The effect was quite bewildering. (Cut No. 1.) Among the foremost of recent composers who have provided incidental music for the stage are Bizet, Grieg and Massenet. Singularly enough, the melodramatic works of these masters are known to us only through orches |