them.]
The free Fantasie begins with a contrapuntal working-out of a
figure taken from the first theme, but it suffers from a persistent
emphasis on what, after all, is an uninteresting rhythm [Music];
there is, furthermore, a rigid grouping of the phrases in twos and
fours. Schumann’s instinct was a wise one in omitting the main
theme of the Recapitulation and in leading, as soon as possible,
to the repetition of the delightful second theme—the gem of
the movement—which now makes its orthodox appearance in
the tonic. After some ejaculatory measures, which remind us
of the beginning of the Development, we have the impassioned
closing theme, referred to above, which ushers in the free and
brilliant Coda, worked up contrapuntally with ever increasing
speed. The movement ends with Schumannesque syncopations.
The D minor Symphony, thus, although not a perfect work of
art, is a significant one and repays intimate study. A long life
may safely be predicted for it by reason of the fervor and charm
of its melodies. An important historical status it will always
hold, for it is the honorable ancestor of such great symphonies
as César Franck’s in D minor and Tchaikowsky’s in E minor, in
which we find the same freedom of form and the same fusion of
material attempted by Schumann’s daring spirit.[204]
[Footnote 204: For a detailed and illuminating study of this
symphony and of Schumann’s style in general see the last essay
inPreludes and Studies by W.J. Henderson. Another excel-
lent essay may be found inStudies in Modern Musicby W.H.
Hadow.]
Closely connected with Schumann, chronologically and also by
certain executive associations,e.g., the Leipsic Conservatory,
is the career of Mendelssohn (1809-1847). There was much in
common between the two; they both were extremely versatile,
of strong literary bent and naturally drawn to the same media
of expression: pianoforte, solo voices and orchestra. And yet,
so dissimilar were the underlying strains in their temperaments
that their compositions, as an expression of their personalities,
show little in common. Schumann, as we have seen, was fantas-
tic, mystical, a bold, independent thinker, the quintessence of
the Romantic spirit. Mendelssohn, on the other hand, though
not lacking in poetic fancy and warmth, was cautious—a born
conservative; and his early classical training, together with the
opulent circumstances of his life, served as a natural check upon