hand, Tchaikowsky seemed superficial, sensational. The gist of
the matter is that Brahms was a Teuton and wrote with char-
acteristic Teutonic reserve and dignity. Tchaikowsky, being a
Slav, wrote with the impassioned lack of restraint and volatility
of mood associated with that people. How could it be other-
wise? Each was a genuine artist, expressing his natural feelings
with clearness and conviction; and each should be respected for
what he did:notone at the expense of the other. In Brahms,
however, the question does arise of facility of expression ver-
sus worthiness of expression. He had an unparalleled technique
in the manipulation of notes but whether there was always an
emotional impulse behind what he wrote is debatable. For there
are these two contrasting types in every art: works which come
from the heart (remember Beethoven’s significant inscription at
the end of his Mass),[256] and those which come from the head.
This brings us face to face with the perplexing question as to
the essence of music. To some it is a record of intellectual ac-
tivity tinged with emotion; to others, an emotional outpouring
controlled by intellect. These two types of music will always
exist, being the natural expression of the corresponding classes
in human nature.
[Footnote 256: “From the heart it has come, to the heart it shall
go.”]
Brahms’s music is sometimes called dry, but this is a misuse of
terms. To draw an analogy from another sense, we might rejoin
that the best champagne is “sec,” all the superfluous, cloying
sugar being removed. There is plenty of saccharine music in
the world for those who like it. In Brahms, however, we find
a potential energy and a manly tenderness which cannot be
ignored even by those who are not profoundly thrilled by his
message. He was a sincere idealist and composed to please his
own high standards, never thinking of outward effect nor testing
the pulse of the fickle public. As a man there is no doubt that
he was warm-hearted and vigorous, but his was not the nature
to come forward with captivating geniality. On the contrary
he expects the hearer to come to him, and is too reserved to
meet you more than half-way. That this austerity has proved
a bar in the way of a wide-spread fame, while to be regretted,
is unavoidable; remove these characteristics from Brahms and
he ceases to be Brahms. Those, however, who may think that
Brahms is always austere and grim, holding himself aloof from