Thursday, April 7, 2011

"Kennst du das Land?" Aria


This is a recording via youtube of the aria "Kennst du das Land" that is in the opera, Little Women. Although this is not the recording that I have been using for my own analysis it is really well done and I am happy I stumbled across it. It is from a production that Indiana University performed.

"Kennst du das Land?"

Two times within the book, Little Women, “Kennst du das Land” is referenced. On pg. 326 we are introduced to the character, Professor Bhaer. He is a German professor that is teaching some of his nephews in America. It makes a lot of sense that Louisa May Alcott may have used a “classically German” song to characterize Professor Bhaer. But this text also foreshadows the relationship that grows between him and Jo. There are many parallels of Jo’s character that we could draw to the character of Mignon. Also the development of the relationship in the song echoes the mentor yet still romantic tension that grows between these two characters in book two of Little Women. The second appearance of this text occurs on pg. 437 in the novel. It is interesting because at this point the text begins to take on personal meaning to the characters. It reads:

“Know’st thou the land where the citron blooms, used to be the Professor;s favorite line, for “das land” meant Germany to him; but now he seemed to dwell, with peculiar warmth and melody upon the words – There, oh there, might I with thee, O my beloved, go and one listener was so thrilled by the tender imitation that she longed to say she did know the land, and would joyfully depart thither whenever he liked.” (pg. 437)

Overall, the text takes on many different facets throughout the story and it is an important tool in understanding the relationship with Jo and Bhaer. Following I attempt to analyze the poetry in order to have more insight into the appearance of the poem in the book and the opera.

While traveling, Wilhelm meets a series of characters. One of his early acquaintances on his trip is Mignon. Wilhelm meets her when he sees a group of performers and among them is Mignon who is being beaten and abused. Wilhelm describes her as a strange girl of twelve or thirteen and when he asks her where her father is she responds with, “the big Devil is dead.” Her mannerisms are jolted and formal, and she speaks in broken German which proves that she is an alien to this town. Everything about her is ambiguous, even her own sexual identity. In the text she is sometimes described as “it” and lacks any true aspects of femininity when she is often described as strong like the other boys. Wilhelm decides to rescue Mignon away from her abusers and buys her. Once under Wilhelm’s guidance, Mignon begins to develop a deep connection to Wilhelm. He decides that he must leave the town and Mignon seems to fall apart with the thought of being abandoned. Wilhelm proclaims that he will never leave her and that she is his child. Mignon curled in his arms cries “You will never leave me! You are my Father! – I am your child!” The next morning Wilhelm hears music outside his door. He assumed that it was the Harper, but it was actually Mignon singing, “Kennst du das Land?” and accompanying herself on the zither. It is through her song that she discloses more of her past and alludes to who she is. The fact that she only can truly disclose who she is through song makes her a bit of an enigma. In an effort to learn more about her Wilhelm asks her to sing this song again so that he could understand what she is saying. Therefore the text that is written in the novel is what Wilhelm transcribed making it an account of what he remembers occurring. This adds another dimension to the language of “Kennst du das Land,” because it is Wilhelm’s account of what Mignon said or intended to say.

The poetry of “Kennst du das Land,” is presented like three different dreamlike scenes, thus creating a strophic form within the poem. In the first stanza, Mignon asks if he (Wilhelm) knows the land of the citrus trees. The language gives a sense of haze by using words that soften the surroundings such as “a gentle wind drifts across blue skies.” The voiced consonants of “sanfter, “Wind,” and “weht” add to the airy language that is being used. It would seem as though Mignon may be referring to Northern Italy where she lived prior to her abduction. The vivid use of color adds to the atmosphere that is created in this first stanza again giving it a sense of otherworldliness. The specific language chosen to describe the “Gold-Orangen” (goldorange) allow not only the color to be imagined, but is brought to life by the word “glühn” (glows) which adds another visual aspect to the description. The foliage is described as “dunklen” or dark evoking a visual picture. The objects that are described in the first stanzas are citrus fruit and imply growth and sensuality. Mignon refers to the silent myrtle that may be a metaphor for her own silent love for Wilhelm. Myrtle is often a symbol of love with its roots in Roman mythology referring to Venus, the goddess of love. Mignon’s word choice to refer to Wilhelm as “Gelibter,” or “my love” is also of great importance. In song we see Mignon attempting to connect with Wilhelm on a sensual level. The word choice of the rhyme is notable she uses the words “blühn” and “glühn” allowing the assonance of the word to emphasize the intimacy of the language.

In the second stanza, Mignon travels inward, literally, and also deeper in her psyche, thus exploring opposing forces of inward and outward. In this stanza she describes the house. The language of this verse adds a barren feeling that we do not see in the first stanza. In the house she describes large empty spaces such as a hallway. The columns and statues that inhabit this space make one think of a large, empty, cold space. She also uses the word “Gemach” to describe the room, instead of the word “Zimmer” which translates to “room.” To contrast the warmth and growth of the first stanza, the second is all cold describing the house as “shimmering” and “gleaming.” The statues in the house are marble, again evoking a sense of cold that is drastically different than the warm colors of the first stanza. The choices of words are more severe than in the first stanza having a more direct meaning and interpretation. When the statues begin to talk, the language is choppy and monosyllabic adding fear and sharpness to the line. The coldness of the house also adds to the fear that is brewing for Mignon that becomes overpowering in the next stanza. The statues are “staring” at her and they speak to her asking her “what have they done to you, poor child?” The fear gives a huge contrast from the alluring, sensual experience of the first verse. Then instead of referring to Wilhelm in a loving and warm way, she asks for his protection using the word “Beschützer,” meaning protector. The short vowel of the word “Beschützer” with the consonant cluster of the “tz” makes the word have a sense of urgency and sharpness that contrast the linear feel of Mignon’s earlier plea to her “Geliebter” (beloved).

In the third stanza Mignon goes back to describing an environment in nature. This final location has also has a haze to it, but the feeling is different from the first stanza. Mignon uses evocative language such as the compound word “Wolkensteg” to make the “path cloudy.” The path is also described as having “Nebel” or “mist.” She describes this cloudy, misty path through the mountains that may be referring to the path that she was taken through when she was abducted from her homeland. The reference to the mule may be a reflection of her own loss of sexuality. The mule is a stark contrast to the fertility that we see in the first stanza as a mule is an animal that is incapable of reproducing. With this event she has lost her own sense of femininity. Although a mule is born from a donkey and horse it belongs to neither group. Therefore, like Mignon, it has no home. The dragon’s brood and the violence described in the cliffs and the flood may refer to the treatment and possible rape of Mignon after her abduction. It is in this last verse that she refers to Wilhelm as “Fater” (father) again establishing a different relationship between them.

Mignon uses this piece as her first true attempt of expression. She speaks the whole song basically in a series of questions that seem to build throughout. The questions become more pointed and specific as the poetry continues and she changes each verse to implore a different emotion from Wilhelm. In the book he describes Mignon singing the song as such, “She intoned each verse with a certain solemn grandeur, as if she were drawing attention to something unusual and imparting something of importance. When she reached the third line, the melody became more somber; the words “You know it, yes?” were given weightiness and mystery, the “Oh there, oh there!” was suffused with longing, and she modified the phrase “Let us fare!” each time it was repeated, so that one time it was entreating and urging, the next time pressing and full of promise.” All of this description serves Mignon’s desperation to reach out to Wilhelm and bring attention to what she is trying to express but can only do through song.

The Savoy Theatre, London

http://images.google.com/imgres?q=the+savoy+theatre+london&hl=en&safe=off&biw=1196&bih=637&gbv=2&tbm=isch&tbnid=bvns8euj1f29VM:&imgrefurl=http://www.boxoffice.co.uk/Venues/5831/Savoy-Theatre.aspx&ei=Gk6eTbW7A4PJgQePnYjcDw&zoom=1


This photo shows the entryway to the Savoy Theatre, London, as well as the Savoy Hotel.  Watchers of Topsy-Turvy might recall that D'Oyly Carte and Sullivan were settling Sullivan's money towards the new hotel.  Sullivan actually became a manager of the Savoy.  This theatre is where most of the Gilbert and Sullivan operas premiered and ran, the home of the D'Oyly Carte Opera Company.  The first show performed at the new theatre was Patience, which transferred to the Savoy upon the theatre's opening.  Iolanthe was the first show to premiere at the Savoy.  The hotel had closed for major renovations, and just reopened last October.  (Fun note:  The winner of a recent season of Hell's Kitchen won the position as executive chef at the restaurant at the Savoy Hotel.)

Alice Elgar, Enigma of a Victorian Lady book review

Part of my research for my paper on Alice Elgar has involved reviewing information in the book Alice Elgar, Enigma of a Victorian Lady by Percy M. Young. Young's research of Alice Elgar is based on primary sources, including Alice's own diary entries, manuscripts and other papers that had been given to him by Alice and Edward's daughter, Carice. As pointed out by Carice (a combination of Alice's first and middle names, Caroline Alice), so much has been written about her father, yet hardly any record exists of her mother's life including her deep devotion and support of him. (This book was published in 1978, and obviously more has been written about Alice since then, but this was one of the break through books). Young wrote this book in hope to fill this void in history and also to give a true account of the Victorian lifestyle led by the Elgar's.

Young discusses Alice's life as having two separate parts. As Caroline Alice Roberts, she was the daughter of a lady, extremely well educated, intelligent and career driven. Alice was a published writer long before she had even met Edward Elgar. Her two most well known works were Isabel Trevithoe (an epic love story from which some poems were drawn and set to music by Elgar) and Marchcroft Manor, a novel considered to be the high point of her literary career (After she married Elgar, her ambitions were of course overshadowed and she did not write another novel). Sidenote: In an article by Diana McVeagh, she compares the lives and emotions of the characters in Marchcroft Manor to Alice's own emotions and view of what she wanted in a partner and husband.

My favorite part of Young's book is his inclusion of many of Alice's poems (before and during her marriage) adjacent to what was actually occurring in her life at the moment she wrote them. He also gives an analysis of some of the poetry and perhaps her inspiration for writing them. Something that has become clear to me is that Alice's writing was an of emotional outlet for her. Young discusses poems she wrote after major life events, including the death of her brother, her meeting Elgar and subsequent piano accompaniment lessons, and also the geriatric care of her mother.

Young discusses throughout the book Alice's sort of radical view point about the changes necessary in the structure of society. Young analyzes many of her works and concludes that her viewpoints are evident through the characters and circumstances within the works. For instance, he says "In The Portrait, a long short story, and in Isabel Trevithoe, written two years later, the theme of the young woman of gentle birth distinguishing herself by a concern for intellectual and social issues, is quite extensively developed."(pg 70). He also goes on to discuss her self portraiture through her characters in her writing and also the characterization of her ideal husband.

When Alice met Elgar, he was traveling back and forth to Malvern from Worcester to give lessons. At the time he was a young violinist and violin teacher, but also gave piano forte accompaniment lessons. A brief account from the coachman who used to drive Alice into the Malvern for lessons said that he thought "there was more in it than music." (page 86). Soon after meeting Elgar, alice wrote the poem An Admonition against Despondency which is surely about Edward. The poem is written seemingly to uplift someone from a state of depression.

In the chapter entitled The Consolation of Music, Young digs deep into Alice's true feelings while in the dating -phase of her relationship with Elgar. If her poems have anything to do with her true feelings (and Young believes it so), she was in a state of sadness for much of the time before she and Elgar were engaged. All of her poems are in such deep devotion to the subject (Elgar), using such words as "dear and beloved," "May pleasant gifts of earth be thine,"and "My dear friend, be thine to find some paradise of light." It is very clear through her poetry that Alice was deeply in love with Elgar, and also apparent is her family's apprehension about the relationship. Elgar was after all, a poor musician and branded by the family piano forte business which carried their name. I really enjoyed the way that Young traces Alice's life through her writing. Alice was known to keep her feelings to herself in person, but clearly her true thoughts emerged in her writing.

After their marriage and the birth of their daughter, Alice began to realize their rather destitute position and she began to put all her energy into her husbands career, and their song writing duo marriage. It was at this point in the book where Young included personal correspondence between Alice and Edward which was attached to poems and music. I was actually not surprised to learn that they spoke baby talk to each other and went so far as to write it out, which is of course, forever preserved in history. This babytalk included things such as "For my Beloved's bootful music. Will dis do?" This may be going too far, but the fact that Alice is so much older than Elgar and they spoke baby talk to each other are very interesting pieces to a confusing puzzle of Elgar's sexuality.

Young discusses an interesting change in Alice's life during her marriage. As Elgar became more well known, she began to emerge from the somewhat social disgrace she had placed on herself by marrying him (which, as Young points out, was a sort of victory in her mind over her family who doubted her choice of husband) and she also continued to write even though her husband no longer really included her poetry in his works. Towards the end of Elgar's greatest creative period, Alice had less time to write, but when she did write it was mostly sad writing. Young briefly discusses Alice's family responsibility as a source of frustration, but could these sad poems also have arisen from Elgar's friendships with other women? it was well known that Edward had many moods that were understood not only by Alice. Young makes it clear that Alice kept her sorrows to herself, probably because she saw her husbands sorrows as more important. We read in class that Alice could have possibly condoned Elgar's relationship with other women. Young points out that she did this out of sacrifice for his own depression. When Rosa Burley visited them, he was always in better spirits. Young says "Alice asserted satisfaction at such visits in her diary. She went along with her solemn duty to preserve the integrity of the genius she had married, or the genius whom through marriage she may have made. "(page 176)

Young concludes that by marriage, Alice gave up her own ambitions and substituted them for Edward's because she saw it as her duty. He says that Alice was so strictly adherent to the social "code" set forth by her military father and dutiful mother that she destroyed her own personality. It seems that Elgar may have become bored of her, and she even bored of herself. This story really is a sad one, because Alice really did what she was supposed to do as a wife in the Victorian era. Perhaps she gave too much of herself?

W.S. Gilbert: Sketch Artist

http://math.boisestate.edu/gas/trial/html/bab.html

William S. Gilbert  was known to many by his childhood nickname, Bab.  He wrote an extensive collection of short stories collectively entitled the "Bab Ballads", many of which informed parts of the Savoy Operas.  With a number of these stories went sketches in Gilbert's hand called the "Bab Illustrations."  The link above connects to the six Bab Illustrations that go with the Trial by Jury.  You will notice each image is signed "Bab".

On a fun side-note, the identification of these six illustrations is credited to Diana Burleigh, who was my director for The Gondoliers at the International Gilbert and Sullivan Festival in Buxton, England in August, 2010.

-Shane Magargal

The Voice of a Master: An Edison recording of Sir Arthur Sullivan

http://math.boisestate.edu/gas/other_sullivan/html/recordings/sullivan.mp3

The link above will take you to the Gilbert and Sullivan Archives page featuring a recording from October 5, 1888 of Sir Arthur Sullivan.  Sullivan was in attendance at a Phonograph Party held by Mr. George Gouraud, featuring the new phonograph of Thomas Edison.  There has been some question about the validity of this recording, but from what I have found, these questions have not been sufficient enough to cause the removal of it from the Archives.  It is a wonderful piece of history, to hear the actual voice of a Victorian composer.

- Shane Magargal

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

John Anderson: Victorian Ideology in 20th Century America.


              John Anderson, my great-great grandfather, was a Swedish immigrant and an American piano manufacturer. I spent my childhood practicing scales and arpeggios on two pianos that he designed, the Anderson upright and the Everett grand. Above one of the “Anderson” upright piano are sketches of John Anderson a la Johannes Brahms, passionately playing the piano over a hefty belly. There is also a photograph of him sitting nobly in a carved wooden chair, dressed in a woolen gray suit and floral tie. Although the photography is black-and-white, my grandfather’s blonde hair and blue eyes reveal his Swedish heritage. His gaze is proud, but soft. My grandfather strikes me as someone with great business savvy, but he is also an unabashed romantic. Somehow, he was able to synthesize his Victorian sentiments with the consumer trends developing during World War I.
John Anderson, born April 16, 1859 in Drottingham, spent his childhood working in the Royal Gardens of Sweden. This detail was continually referenced throughout biographies, as if my grandfather’s deep sensual love of natural beauty is what eventually led him to piano design. By 14, Anderson began his apprenticeship with the Royal cabinet-maker. After five years, the Society of Mechanics of Stockholm awarded him for his work. He then received a stipend from the Swedish Chamber of Commerce to study with the great cabinet-makers abroad. He traveled to Vienna, Munich, Zurich, and Paris. Through his travels, Anderson mastered furniture building and design. In 1884, he immigrated to New York. While designing cabinets, he also received his first assignments to design piano cases. He studied this craft with Decker Brothers and later with Albert Weber and Steinway & Sons.  Anderson drew his first piano scale for the Shaw Piano while working for the Shaw Company in Erie, Pennsylvania. In 1892, Anderson moved to Minneapolis, Minnesota to work for the Century Piano Company, where he designed the Anderson piano. Impressed with Anderson’s design, the Everett Piano Company of Boston, MA invited the piano maker to take over all manufacturing for their company. Beginning in 1899, Everett gave Anderson unlimited funds to remodel the entire factory system, including the addition of a piano actions and hammers department. Anderson felt a responsibility to personally employ every man, an action that Alfred Dodge in his book Pianos and their Makers suggests was indicative of Anderson’s deep conviction for design integrity. Anderson designed the Everett concert grand piano, favored by piano virtuosos such as Ossip Gabrilowitsch, Maria Teresa Carreño, and Otto Neitzel. Anderson was well known and financially successful until his death on July 9, 1936.
Publications that feature John Anderson either portray the man as an artist or a businessman. Alfred Dodge wishes to depict Anderson as the epitome of Victorian ideals. In an attempt to connect Anderson’s childhood with his later career, Dodge writes,
He had fully taken in the beautiful forms and colors of flowers, become intoxicated with their aroma, and feasted his eyes and mind on the beautiful forms of artistic furniture and classic and decorative architecture, but the world of tone had been an unknown realm to him, although it was fully as strong in his soul as the knowledge, inspiration and appreciation for the beautiful in its various other forms and phases. [1]

This sensual world that Dodge envisions for Anderson seems to explain why Anderson became a superior piano designer, and it seems that Anderson would be in compliance with such an assumption. In a letter written to Dodge, Anderson exclaims,
I had long ago formed an idea for the beautiful in life, and although neither musician nor singer, also for the beautiful in sound. The roar of the ocean, the whisper of the leaves, the murmur of the brook, the mighty sound of storm in the woods, always had a charm for me, but when I heard men discuss piano tone, at first I hardly knew much about it.  But as time went on it became perfectly clear to me that tone, color, shade and light in a beautiful painting, the delicate molding in a statue, and the harmony produced by perfect piano tones are practically the same thing, for the reason that the whole must result in a harmonious perfection.[2]

             
From an entirely different perspective, “Adapting Selling Talk to Circumstances: An Interview with John Anderson” from the March 18th 1916 issue of Music Trade Indicator is a front page article that discusses John Anderson’s advertising strategies and his subsequent success as a salesman. The article gives anecdotes about various customers of the Everett piano company, and how John Anderson catered his salesmanship to suit their life experience. In this article there is no mention of Anderson’s childhood or his Victorian fascination with perfect tone. In contrast, the article presents Anderson as a quick-witted businessman.
            A farmer complains that while the Everett piano only has two pedals, he is able to buy a cheaper piano with three pedals down the road. Why should he buy here? Anderson replies, “ ‘Well, I suppose you always buy cows with three horns? ...  I suppose every horse you buy has five legs, and that you wouldn’t have a rooster on the farm unless he had three or four well spurred legs.”[3] When the farmer finally bought an Everett piano, the anonymous magazine writer concludes, “The farmer bought that piano because he had been told about it in a way that was easily understandable to the farmer.”[4]
            A minster was doubtful of the Everett piano because of what other salesmen on Boyleston Street had told him. It did not seem in compliance with Anderson’s praise of the Everett piano.  Anderson rebutted, “Haven’t you ministers been telling us about heaven and hell for years and years? Do any of you know anything about it? Have any of you ever been there?”[5] Inexplicably this argument convinces the minister of the Everett’s superiority.
            John Anderson is not just presented as an authority on pianos, but an authority on people. He sizes up his customers so that he can connect their identities with their desire for the best piano imaginable, which in this case is the Everett piano. This is salesmanship at its finest, a craft that became increasingly pertinent as brand names and standardized factory systems replaced small businesses.
            While some writers illuminate Anderson as a traditional Victorian, and others as a 20th century big business man, the most effective advertising combines these paradoxical roles. “The Quest for the Perfect Tone” by F. Burnham McLeary, written in 1915 to document the manufacturing developments of the Everett Piano Company, synthesizes these roles effectively, albeit with a melodramatic flair. “Have you often regretted that the music in your heart could not find its way to your fingers? You need regret it no longer.”[6] The article begins with a brief and general history of the keyboard, beginning with the Grecian god Hermes “…hitting his winged foot against a tortoise shell…vibrating five dried sinews stretched taut across it”[7] to Pythagoras and the keyboard instruments of the 16th and 17th centuries. The author eventually arrives in the early 20th century, and “…we find here and there a man who would rather make something surpassingly well than heap up great riches.”[8] McLeary leaves his readers in suspense. He introduces Frank A. Lee, president of the Everett Piano Company, who is searching for a perfectly harmonious instrument. In a section of the article entitled, “Just at the darkest moment fate appears behind the scenes,” a piano dealer leads Mr. Lee into a private display room that holds this perfect instrument. “He ran a short arpeggio in the middle register. Each note rang out as clear as a cathedral bell.”[9] Finally McLeary reveals that it is the Swedish cabinet-maker John Anderson who has fashioned this piano, whose artistry is then compared to the fine works of Benvenuto Cellini, Della Robbia, and Stradivarius. By creating the perfectly balanced instrument McLeary implies that Anderson, like the great artists, understands the deepest secrets of life.
            John Anderson is not only fascinating because of his relevance to my ancestry. The piano maker symbolizes the dramatic culture shift that occurred in the early 20th century. Many piano writers and enthusiasts projected their personal values onto my grandfather. For instance, perhaps Alfred Dodge’s sentimental portrayal of John Anderson is a yearning for a dying way of life, a life that cherishes the carefully crafted piano forte and the musician as artist. With the invention of the player piano and the phonograph, music became more accessible but less inspired. Anderson himself was aware of this trend, and it seems that his business approach simultaneously accepts the fast-paced forward moving American ideology without disconnecting from 19th century piano tradition. A large reason for this synthesis may be that Anderson did not have a choice but to combine his old-fashioned sentiments with American big business. He needed the money. His immigration to America presented the craftsman with numerous struggles. In a personal letter, Anderson wrote, “Then back home doing well, but taking a chance to start for America and start all over with empty hands and no one who knew me after all I already had mastered and overcome. But for all this I feel happy and have something that one only can get that way.”[10] There are many ways in which to construe John Anderson’s life as a piano manufacturer. There is no certain reason for his blending of old and new modes of thought. However his personal story illuminates America’s larger story, a shift from inspiration to production, and the way in which American still desperately tries to balance the paradoxical.


           




[1] Alfred Dodge, Pianos and their Makers: Development of the piano industry in America since the Centennial Exhibition at Philadelphia 1876 (Covina, California: Covina Publishing Company, 1913), 85.
[2] Ibid., 85-6.
[3] Anonymous, “Adapting Selling Talk to Circumstances: An Interview with John Anderson.” Music Trade Indicator (Chicago: March 18, 1916), 2.

[4] Ibid., 2.
[5] Ibid., 2.
[6] McLeary, F. Burnham, “The Quest for Perfect Tone,” The World’s Work: A History of our Time Volume XXX May, 1915 to October, 1915 (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, Page & Company, 1915), 285.
[7] McLeary 280.
[8] Ibid., 280.
[9] Ibid. 281.
[10] John Anderson, Personal Correspondence (June 16, 192-), p. 5