"either the ipatronage of their Egcellenctes the Governor-general & /Op 114ortbcote,

ant' Ibis Exceilencr tbe %tate Oovernor R ILabv talbot.

Marshall-ball Orchestral Concert.

%eason, 1907.

anatigurat Evening Concert beingtbe 81st since their inception.

town bail, Melbourne, .0s •0

Monbav Evening, October 7, at 8 p.m. J' 4.0

Orchestra of 68 artists.

CoOnctor: Prof. 103• 'W. L. Marsbatbibati. Vocalist:

Miss lbesketh aones.

Vox Plan at titian's. prices of Elbmiesion a. stator' Crow, Orchestral attatrager.

iphilip fox, Skm. $erretarp,

472 Chancerp Zane.

1, 1,.STEP 4 LN 11 ,1/ 1 ,111.1.14111L1ZAHT111171.47.

Malconp ant' 1Reeetvet) Chairs

113obp of tall :-.

area 2 /%1"

1. Symphony

Programme. No. 5, in C Minor

1. Allegro con brio. f 3. Allegro. 2. Andante con moto. (4. Allegro.

Beethoven.

As we gaze into the dimmed mirror of history, wherein through the intricate web of motive and

action, human character reveals itself to us in its largest, most complete and significant aspect, we are

frequently struck with the fact that the most important and far-reaching crises in the fate of nations have been faced and solved by men who, far from being of an ambitious temperament, or from having

premeditated what they afterwards accomplished, have rather been involuntarily compelled by the

force of circumstances, by their,destiny, towards the most hazardous and glorious enterprises. More-

over it would seem that such great spirits, whom Necessity, for the achievement of her purposes,

forced to wade through blood and terror with all their monstrous concomitants, under other and less

tragic circumstances would have been content to remain kindly, humane, private citizens. In modern

English history at once the names of Cromwell and Washington occur. But whoever is able to pene-trate the surface of things will become aware that this grievous conflict of Will and Fate has preluded

most important world-events ; that, on an infinitely smaller scale, an analogous struggle takes place at

some period or other in the lives of most individuals, and constitutes a tragedy in miniature by which

they learn to understand those more tremendous issues of the greater world, on which the weal and

woe not of one but of millions depend. Do we not see to-day, in our very midst, some such colossal

catastrophe impending on the Russian peoples? With awe, and with deep sympathy we await the issue,—we expect the hero. Within the soul of a man of heroic stamp a double tragedy is fought out.

There is the outer apparent one, and another, namely the inner strife of the spirit with itself ; the conflict between the "would" and the " must " of life, which arises from the doubtful issue of all

direct action. In this Symphony of Beethoven is pourtrayed such a conflict, and such a hero stands

before us in his majesty, his weakness, his spiritual strife, his hope, despair, determination, endurance,

in his whole humanity. I.

The Prospectus for the 1908 Season "Fate knocks at the door !" cried Beethoven as he let these terrible introductory notes thunder

forth their awe-inspiring fiat. The crisis is there. The hero-to-be is rudely shaken from his innocent

will be issued early next year• dream of life. The supreme moment is upon him—he is called ! In the depths of his soul the awful

conviction trembles and palpitates. Is this so? Must this be ? cries the Hamlet within him ; note

that extraoadinary questioning pause of the Violins ; "Say, why is this? wherefore ? What should we do ?"

But the dumfounding importunity of the answer leaves no room for hesitation ; it is no doubtful

0 Q ghost he is confronted with, but the sternest most palpable of facts. Events crowd thickly upon one

another sweeping us irresistibly along with them towards some dreadful conclusion. An abyss opens

before us. One shrinks back at this frightful moment of silence. A colossal figure seems to rise, im.

moveable, with finger outstretched. The mere moment of time, by the extraordinary significance of

this musical phrase, is transformed to an eternity. The notes have petrified into statuary. It sinks.

The human being alone remains, in all his futile tenderness, his Promethean susceptibility to pain.

We behold revealed to us that pathetic spectacle natural to human weakness, of the spirit which shrinks within itself from the act which the hand must commit ; the war between the active and

passive ; necessity and conscious nature. Dimly beneath the plaintive melody is heard the urgent

impassive re-iteration of the fate-motive, even as the weird subterranean admonition of the ghost in

Hamlet. Again we are driven furiously along, but in tones which gather boldness and certainty as

they proceed. Words suffice not to trace out in detail the wonderfully subtle progress of this struggle

betwixt the objective and subjective consciousness, which continues throughout the movement in a thousand breathlessly engrossing forms, and finds its central point in those thrilling questioning

chords of the Wood-wind, which are followed to the last retreats of the shrinking soul by the cruel in-flexible response of the Strings ; and remorselessly brushed aside by the initial theme harshly

thundered out by the whole orchestra—whenever before or since has one heard such monstrous naked

fifths? 0 wondrous daring of this poet of poets ! wherein face to face with the supreme Force of the

Universe, man's soul boldly puts forth that deepest question of all, and is answered— awfully and ter-

ribly answered? As the mighty Coda begins, everything becomes sterner, more inflexible, more fatal,

in its movement. Like the gathering avalanche, slow, irresistible ; like the will of an aroused people,

an accelerating force beyond individual control ; like the inevitable eternal sequence of cause and

effect, which untouched by pity, indifferent to results, acts, this stern sublime strenuous mush;

marches to its tremendous close.

‘'

IL A singular intensity oflfeeling unites the second movement to the first. The dramatic tension is

for the moment relaxed by this most lovely episode, whose gracious, elevated, humane atmosphere

relieves the mind of its almost too great emotional strain, and prepares it for what is to follow, It is the occasional oasis in which, even in actual life, the stormy spirit seeks momentarily peace and re-

cuperation. We seem to behold the very spirit of love and beauty manifesting itself under a thousand different harmonious forms linking together all Nature. Entrancing is the little quasi episodical

figure which stands betwixt the two chief melodies, given out first on the Wood-wind, then, exquisitely

enhanced, on the Strings. It occurs four times at intervals, and the last time with a slight alteration

which intensifies its expression beyond conception. Of this New World, which the rapt and visionary

genius of Beethoven has caught and opened out to us, it can only be said that it stands unequalled,

unapproached by anything we have before experienced: " A sense sublime

Of something far more deeply interfused. Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean, and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man, A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things."

III.

What mysterious ominous voice is this that mutters at our ear, destroying peace and consolation?

Doubt and fear make us again their prey. Full of meaning is that connection between the falling

tones of the Strings and Wind with those of the Oboi solo in the plaintive Cadenza of the first move-ment. Now again, in a more definite shape, the tremendous fate-rhythm enters on the Horns, and is

taken up by the whole Orchestra, with totally new and unexpected effect. It seems here like a force outside of ourselves, unconscious of our existence, full of menace, whose operations we are permitted

to contemplate. It pursues its way regardless of us, and is succeeded by a weird fantastic figure

given out by the Basses, and taken up by the other instruments one after the other. There is some-thing monstrous in this uncouth gambolling of these huge nameless antediluvian powers among them-

selves, in which mingles a sort of grim ponderous humour. Surely a stranger more inhuman scene

was never conceived. It fades away like a dream, only to give place to another infinitely more spectral. No artist has ever approached Beethoven in his power of producing an effect of prolonged

suspense, and in the bars which follow he has surpassed himself. We are in an electrically sur-charged atmosphere. We feel that something terrible is about to happen, but how ? when ? what?

It approaches nearer and ever nearer, till with the cessation of all movement save the dull

monotony of the Tympani, we hold breath, —paralyzed. The supreme crisis has come—horror, death, madness, loom before us in one agonised moment of suspense :—a sudden immense crescendo

and — I V.

Victory rolls on us in deafening irresistible tones. A triumphant pavan uplifts itself from earth to

heaven ; a song of deliverance, of hope, of joy, of brotherhood, of proud and sober triumph. That

which in the nature of things is unrealizable the poet here convincingly realizes for us the victory

of good over ill ; of happiness over misery ; of righteous power over weakness and ineptitude.

Listening to these strains our human frailties drop from us, we become heroes, gods. Trampling

the powers of darkness under foot we stride in illustrious procession to our everlasting Walhalla.-

0 miraculous vision of poet ! 0 splendid illusion ! Alas ! alas

" That bitter fate o'er thee should have such power And all-devouring time thee, even thee devour !"

3nterral.

2. lallattnvebeit ... "Siegfried" Wagner. Perhaps this exquisite piece of picturesque music can only properly be appreciated when associated

with the beautiful stage-scene to which it belongs. Since, however, the latter is impossible to us, we

must call in the help of the imagination, to enable us to perceive the warrior-hero, in the course of his

adventures, stretched out at full length on the green sward, in the midst of the mysterious forest, sur. rounded by great gnarled tree trunks, and luxuriant herbage, in the fresh, warm, sunlit air ; and

overhead, among a thousand happy blossoms, are the warblers, whose notes we hear as they look down

upon the stranger, and converse together in their own naive and beautiful language.

3. Ouverture4antaiste " Romeo and Juliet'' Tschaikowsky.

To this singularly passionate and beautiful work, which must be reckoned among its author's rarest

masterpieces, Tschaikowsky affixed the title ouverture-fantaisie to indicate that it was a musical

expression of the whole general effect left on his mind by the English Dramatist's tragedy, rather

than a prelude, or an attempt to pursue the tragic sequence of its incidents. With singular felicity he has preserved the balance of his original between the disastrous overshadowing passions of the social

and political world, and the incidental loves of the young couple on whose happiness and lives such havoc was wrought. The introductory bars are full of a deeply melancholy foreboding which cannot

be better described than by the words of Romeo as with his friends he is about to enter Capulet's house

on the night of the festival : " My mind misgives.

Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,

Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night's revels ; and expire the term

Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast,

By some vile forfeit of untimely death."

The Clarinets and Bassoons give out a solemn and sombre theme, which afterwards permeates the Or-

chestra like the thread of fate. A mournful brooding passage on the Strings succeeds, and is taken up

in intensified form by the Hautboys and Clarinets against melancholy descending Cellos. It culminates

in a remarkably beautiful and original harmonic progression, whose dark and characteristic colour is

accentuated by slow mounting Harp-chords, thrice-repeated. This whole section, with alterations in

instrumentation, and accompanied by a pizzicato figure on the Strings, is given over again a semitone

lower, and leads to an Agitato in which the sense of coming tragedy is wonderfully suggested. The

threatening thunder of the tympani breaks the passage off. Once more the melancholy chords of the

Strings oppress the heart, and, echoed by the Wood-wind, grow imperceptibly into the wild and pas-sionate theme of the Allegro, the agitated syncopations and spasmodic energy of which hold the mind

in breathless suspense, and form a marvellous counterpart to that conflict of anger, hate, death, love,

doubt and desperation which Shakespeare has conveyed by the immortal scenes of Mercutio's and

Tybalt's death ; the rage of old Capulet and Montague with their fierce factions ; the woe of Juliet,

and the despair of Romeo. A short episode follows, continuously increasing in excitement, wherein

this Allegro theme in quite a novel form is angrily tossed between the Basses and the Wood-

wind to a whirling figure of the Violins, which accelerates into a wild unison rush

of the united Strings, stabbed, as it were, by furious chords of the wind in strangely

syncopated rhythm, whose pauses are full of terror. Then once again, with the full fury

of the Orchestra, this theme is given out in its original form. In the second episode Which

follows the storm sinks away, and with a marvellously thrilling change of key a love-theme

of entrancing loveliness enters on the English Horn and muted Violas. In this speaking, passionate

melody, Tschaikowsky surpasses himself. Utterly free as it is from morbid sentimentality, it yet

conveys the impression of the heart's outpouring between two lovers who hurriedly meet at fearful

peril, to part under the frown of a doubtful future, and who are fain to concentrate in a few dis-tracted moments the whole wealth of happiness of their life-times. Another theme, on muted

strings, succeeds, full of tender languor, expressed in exquisitely sensitive harmonic shades, so

original and peculiar that it would be impossible to mistake their author for a moment. Again the

love theme enters, responded to by an expressive figure on the Horn. It rises to ever more im-

passioned heights, and culminates in a dreamy amorous nocturne full of insouciant tenderness.

In a masterly way these elements are mingled together, interrupt and defy one another, and carry the dramatic development forward with ever increasing excitement and tension, which is quite Beethovian

in its terribilith. In the midst of them, like the approaching footsteps of Fate, creeps ever onward

with increasing distinctness and power, the theme of the introduction. A tremendous climax is reached

at the point where the love-theme, given out by the whole body of strings, seems to defy the world and

destiny itself. But in vain. The antagonistic forces hurl together in irresistible fury, which sweeps

everything before it. One last sob of despair on the Cellos, and all seems to be over. An echo of love

soars heavenward on the Violins, as it were the united spirits of the lovers triumphant over death.

Fierce syncopated chords, the last clamour of turbulent life, close the tragedy.

Trenerry Stanford Sugden Cuddon Heffernan Davies Gillbanks Pearce Crozier

PP Gray Walters Warde

If Summerhayes

Violas : Mr. Dawson

„ Schrader „ Josephi „ Lamble

Miss Charge „ McMahon

Cellos : Hattenbach Montague, Sen. Argenzio Roubaudi Fox , Levey' Bear Reid

23asses : Mr. Thatcher

Rowe ” Graham

Haigh ” Tappe

Marshall-Hall Orchestra, 7th Oct., 1907. 4. Brias . • • • " Figaro " Mozart.

(Oise lbeehetb aonee. Conductor : Professor G. W. L. MARSHALL-HALL.

Assistant Conductors : MR. F. DIERICH, MR. H. SCHRADER, MR. A. ZELMAN, Junr. Cherubino.

(a) che sapete che cosa a amor

Donne vedete s'io l'ho nel cor Donne vedete s'io l'ho nel cor, Quello ch'io provo, viridiro E per me nuovo tapir nol so. Sento un affetto pien di desk, Ch'ora 6 diletto ch'ora 6 martir, Jelo e poi lento l'alma avvampar, E in un momento torno a gelar ; Ricerco un bene fuori di mi, Non so chi it tieni non so cos' e, Sospiro e gemo senza voler, Palpito a tremo senza sager, Non trovo pace notte ni di, Ma pur mi piace languir cosi, Voi, che sapete che cosa a amor, Donne vedete s'io l'ho nel cor. Donne vedete s'io l'ho nel cor, Donne vedete s'io l'ho nel cor.

Cherubino. (b)

Non so pity cosa son, cosa faccio, Or di fooco, ora sono di ghiaccio, Ogni donna cangiar di colore, Ogni donna mi fa palpitar, Ogni donna mi fa palpitar, Ogni donna mi fa palpitar, Solo ai nomi di diletto. Mi si turba, mi s'altera it petto, E a parlare mi eforga d'amore. Un di sio, un di sio, Ch'io non posso spiegar, Un de sio, un de sio, Ohio non posso spiegar. Non so pin, cosa son, cosa faccio Or di foco, ora sono di ghiaccio, Ogni donna cangiar di colore, Ogni donna mi fa palpitar, Ogni donna mi fa palpitar, Ogni donna mi fa palpitar, Parlo d'amor vegliando, Parlo d'amor so guando, All'acqua, all'ombra, ai monti, Ai lion, all'erbe, ai fonti All'eco, all'aria ai venti. Che anon de vani accenti Portano his con se, Portano via con se, Parlo d'amor vegliando Parlo d'amor sognando All acqua, all 'ombra, Ai monti, ai flori, All'erbe, ai fonti, All'eco, all'aria, ai venti Che fl suon de'vaniaccenti, Portano via con se Portano via con se E se non ho chi m'oda, E se non ho chi m'oda, Parlo d'amor con me, con me, Parlo d'amor con me.

Cherubino.

Say, ye who borrow Love's witching spell, What is this sorrow nought can dispel ? What is this sorrow nought can dispel? Fair dame or maiden, none else may know My heart o'er laden, why is it so ? What is this yearning, these trembling fears, Rapturous burning, melting in tears.? While thus I languish, wild beats my heart, Yet from my anguish I would not part, I seek a treasure Fate still denies Nought else will pleasure, nought else I prize, I'm ever sighing, I know not why, Near unto dying, when none are by, My heart is riven, night, morn, and eve, But ah 'tis heaven, thus, thus to grieve. Say, ye who borrow Love's witching spell, What is this sorrow nought can dispel? What is this sorrow nought can dispel ? What is this sorrow nought can dispel?

Cherubins.

'Tis a madness, a fever doth seize me, Now I burn, then a trembling will freeze me, And I blush when I meet any maiden, If I hear but her voice, I must sigh, If I hear but her voice, I must sigh, If I hear but her voice, I must sigh. Ah ! to think how a love doth anguish, Rends my bosom asunder with anguish, Nought can comfort my poor heart o'er laden, 'Tis a longing, 'tie a longing, I must speak of or die. 'Tis a longing, 'tis a longing, I must speak of or die. Ah ! a madness, a fever doth seize me, Now I burn, then a trembling will freeze me, And I blush when I meet any maiden, If I hear but her voice, I must sigh, If I hear but her voice, I must sigh, If I hear but her voice, I must sigh. Love is my thought when sleeping, Waking, for love I'm weeping, By lake, and wood, and mountain, By silver flashing fountain, I breathe my soft lamenting, And echo sweet consenting, Bears it to yonder sky, Bears it to yonder sky, Love is my thought when sleeping, Waking, for love I'm weeping, By lake, and mountain by silver fountain I breathe it lamenting, I breathe my soft lamenting, And echo, sweet consenting, Bears it to yonder sky, Bears it to yonder sky, Though none will hear or heed me, Though none will hear or heed me, Love will at least reply, reply, Love will at least reply.

Violins : lbarp: Dierich

Mr. Barker Zelman Curcio flutes : North

Mr. Russell Schieblich

Truebridge • oboes :

Hume Briglia

„ Ricco „ Amadio

„ Parkes Mr. Taylor*

Mrs. Manby „ Thomson Miss Whitley

Archibald Cor Motel's :

Mr. ”

If

Oran Cassa, Glockenspiel Cpmbals, ■Sc.:

Mr. Browning „ Crow*

* Kindly give their services.

Dr. Rudall*

Clartonets : Mr. Tipping*

„ Mohr

:Bassoons : Mr. Lupton

„ Carolane

lborns: Mr. Lawrence Toole

„ Wood „ Lucas „ Finlay

trumpets : Mr. Levy

„ Code „ Dunn

trombones: Mr. Scott

Caddy Birmingham

tuba : Mr. Vick

tpmpani : Mr. Clay

5. overture " Die Meistersinger " ... Richard Wagner.

No sooner do the first few bars of this masterly comedy sound, than stern Time seems to flag, falter,

turn tail, and run back a few centuries, and like the worthy golosh-clad councillor of Hans Andersen,

we wake up to find ourselves a hundred or two years Younger, sauntering through the queer old streets

of Nurnberg, in the company of those famous master-singers of whose quaint customs we have so often read. We seem to see it all—the various guilds in procession with banners flying ! the impetuous, passionate idealist Walther, head-over-ears in love with Master Goldsmith Pogner's

daughter ; tender little Eva, who shyly returns his passion ; the frolicsome apprentices, mimicking the

somewhat pompous airs of their masters ; and, scenes the most diverse succeed one another without

incongruity, conjured up by the spell of the music.

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Title:

Program of the Marshall-Hall concert, 7/10/1907

Date:

1907

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