A new symphony by one of the leading composers of modern Germany was the chief attraction of last Saturday's Crystal Palace Concert. In classing Herr Joachim Raff among leading contemporary musicians, we are referring less to the originality than to the number and general efficiency of his works. He is, indeed, a marvellously prolific writer, and his works, including several operas and almost every other form of vocal and instrumental music, exceed 200 in number. And all this was produced in a comparatively limited space of time. For Herr Raff did not start in life as a musician, and his first work appeared when he was 21 years old, by no means an early age for a member of that most precocious race of men, musical composers. The symphony we are speaking of (in A, op. 205) is surnamed "Frühlingsklänge" (the Sounds of Spring), - a theme which has been treated by many musicians, among others by Ferdinand Hiller, in one of his best and most popular symphonies. Raff's work consists of the orthodox four movements, the first of which (allegro), according to its title, depicts the return of Spring. The beginning is very beautiful. Long-drawn chords of the wind instruments seem to indicate the quiescence of nature before the re-awakening of life, but soon an impulsive phrase becomes loud in the violins, growing more rapid and urgent in its progress from quavers to semi-quavers, till at last the voice of Spring is heard in what would technically be called the first theme. Unfortunately this theme is extremely disappointing. Spring speaks in a jerky and by no means novel way, and slumbering nature might be excused if it refused to listen to such a call, enforced though it be by the sounding of brass and the beating of drums. Suaver themes sebsequently intervene, but the whole piece is characterized by loudness rather than by the sweetness and the light generally associated with "gentle Spring." In addition to this the movement is very long and diffuse, and, after listening to 63 full-score pages of music, one comes to the conclusion that much ado has been made, if not absolutely about nothing, at least about very little. In the second movement, surnamed "Walpurgisnight," we are introduced to the realms of faery in which Mendelssohn is absolute monarch. But Herr Ralf's elves and gnomes do not tread with the light and airy step of the earlier master. Trombones, trumpets, and horns fill the air with powerful sounds; it may be that the Wild Huntsman is passing, and that the timid dryads and nymphs have hidden themselves in trees and bulrushes. To speak plainly, Herr Raff's second movement is not superior to his first at regards melodic invention, and even his usual mastery of orchestration is wanting, some of the brass effects especially being very coarse. The third movement (larghetto) brings welcome relief from the incessant noise of its predecessors. Its general character is sufficiently explained by its motto, "With the first spring flowers," the suave melody accompanying the tender offering being as pretty and sentimental as can well be imagined. The orchestration of this movement also is in keeping with its poetic import. A charming effect is, for example, produced by the second theme, intoned by the violins with a pizzicato accompaniment of the violoncelli, which in their turn become the exponents of another melodious phrase, the violins this time undertaking the accompaniment in graceful semi-quavers. Towards the end of the piece the composer introduces a clever imitation of a bell by means of the flutes persistently sounding G in conjunction with the pizzicato of the second violins. The same effect produced by very similar means, but of much greater poetic significance, is found in the "Marche de Pélerins" of Berlioz's "Harold en Italie," and it is obvious that Raff has here - no doubt unconsciously -copied the French composer. The final allegro resumes the noisier strains of the two first movements, the symphony winding up with a long coda, in which the brass takes a prominent part. To sum up, it cannot conscientiously be said that Raff's eighth symphony has added to its composer's reputation. It is decidedly inferior to his "Leonora" or "Im Walde," and belongs altogether to the class of clever works which may please the public once or twice, but which are not destined to live, the vital elements of spontaneity and genuine melodic invention being absent. The symphony was admirably rendered, and met with what it deserved, a success d'estime.
