Ravinia 2022, Issue 2

plantation songs], led Dvořák not to any liter- al transcription or direct use of Negro themes but, after saturating himself in the idiom, to embody his delight in this newfound idiom,” Fisher observed in the preface to Seventy Negro Spirituals . The Largo melody, in other words, is an original conception, inspired by African American musical traditions. Another tradition claims that Dvořák based his theme on an authentic African Amer- ican spiritual, perhaps one sung to him by Burleigh, a viewpoint not clearly supported by historical evidence. In recent years, others have noticed a similarity between the Largo melody and a Christmas hymn by George D. Elderkin (1845–1928) of Chicago—“Je- sus, the Light of the World”—published in The Finest of the Wheat: Hymns New and Old for Missionary and Revival Meetings and Sabbath-Schools in 1890, three years before Dvořák’s symphony. Despite differences in spirit and tempo between the buoyant hymn and reflective orchestral melody, the striking melodic resemblance suggest that Elderkin might have provided the model. Goin’ home, goin’ home, I’m a goin’ home; Quiet like, some still day, I’m jes’ goin’ home. It’s not far, jes’ close by, Through an open door; Work all done, care laid by, gwine to fear no more. Mother’s there ’spectin’ me, Father’s waitin’ too; Lots o’folk gather’d there, All the friends I knew. Home, home, I’m goin’ home! Nothin’ lost, all’s gain, No more fret nor pain, No more stumblin’ on the way, No more longin’ for the day, Gwine to roam no more! Mornin’ star lights the way, Res’less dreams all done; Shadows gone, break o’day, Real life jes’ begun. Dere’s no break, ain’t no end, Jes’ a livin’ on; Wide awake, with a smile Goin’ on and on. Goin’ home, goin’ home, I’m jes’ goin’ home. It’s not far, jes’ close by, Through an open door; I’m jes’ goin’ home. Goin’ home. ANTONÍN DVOŘÁK Symphony No. 9 in E minor, B. 178 (“From the New World”) Scored for pairs of flutes, oboes, clarinets and bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, triangle, cymbal, and strings A certain excitement hovered in the air as late-19th-century America struggled to de- fine its distinctive musical identity. European forms and practices had dominated the “New World” since pre-Revolutionary days. Most promising young musicians received their advanced training in the European musical meccas, unconsciously reinforcing a sense of American inferiority. However, before the close of the century, several zealous individ- uals living in New York City—the country’s cultural capital—devoted themselves to fos- tering native musical talent. Anton Seidl, the Hungarian-born conductor of the Metropolitan Opera and New York Philharmonic Orchestra, believed En- glish-language opera performances and a res- ident opera school might spark interest among American composers. Critics like Henry Ed- ward Krehbiel of the New York Daily Tribune and James Gibbons Huneker of the Musical Courier championed the quest for true Amer- ican music. In 1885, Mrs. Jeannette Thurber, with major financial backing provided by her husband’s fortune, founded the American School of Opera. This institution struggled for six years with a mounting debt before being absorbed into the National Conservatory of Music, incorporated by an act of Congress in 1891. The conservatory promoted musical training in an American idiom. Admission was open to talented musicians, regardless of race or sex. Tuition was free. Thurber assem- bled a distinguished faculty of European and American men and women, including Seidl (opera conducting), Horatio Parker (organ), Rafael Joseffy (piano), Adele Margulies (pia- no), Camilla Urso (violin), Rubin Goldmark (composition), and Victor Herbert (cello). Mrs. Jeannette Thurber When baritone Jacques Bouy resigned as di- rector of the conservatory in 1889, Thurber sought a musician of international reputation who demonstrated an interest in ethnic musi- cal expression to lead the school. Her first choice was Czech composer Antonín Dvořák. A generous annual salary of $15,000 was pro- posed, but Dvořák initially refused the offer. Only after persistent negotiations did Mrs. Thurber secure his services. Dvořák arrived with his wife and two of six children on Sep- tember 26, 1892. Official duties begin on Oc- tober 1. He remained in the United States, excluding a six-month trip to Prague in 1894, until April 16, 1895. Dvořák soon hunted for examples of indige- nous American music. He pored over articles on “Negro music” provided by Huneker. A Black conservatory student named Harry T. Burleigh introduced him to Negro spirituals. Dvořák explained the importance of Black music toward the discovery of an American idiom in the New York Herald article “The Real Value of Negro Melodies” (May 21, 1893): “I am now satisfied that the future music of this country must be founded upon what are called the Negro melodies. … The aptitude of the colored race for music, vocal and in- strumental, has long been recognized, but no definite steps have hitherto been taken to develop it, and it is believed that the decision of the conservatory to move in this new di- rection will meet with general approval and be productive of prompt and encouraging re- sults.” This article—controversial, as he would discover—appeared three days before he completed Symphony No. 9, subtitled “From the New World.” Long before reaching the United States, Dvořák had become interested in Native American culture. Henry Wadsworth Long- fellow’s The Song of Hiawatha became one of his favorite novels during the 1870s. Mrs. Thurber lured Dvořák to the United States in part with the prospect of composing a Hiawatha opera. Dvořák met members of the Kickapoo and Iroquois tribes while Antonín Dvořák vacationing at the Czech community in Spill- ville, IA, during the summer of 1893. The opera never materialized, but neither did Dvořák abandon Hiawatha altogether. Debates over how closely Symphony No. 9 represented indigenous American musical cultures ignited immediately after the pre- miere. This work confounded critics simply because they had not yet grasped his concept of American-ness. Like any skilled craftsman, Dvořák assimilated essential characteristics of ethnic styles into his ownmusical language. Actual folk melodies do not appear, but simu- lations occur throughout the symphony. The first movement begins with a Czech-sounding orchestral statement. The tempo change ( Allegro molto ) brings a he- roic, syncopated horn theme. A soulful flute and oboe theme assumes a modal quali- ty with a minor third and lowered leading tone. Syncopated rhythms return in perhaps the most “American”-sounding theme gently played by the flute. Dvořák revealed in a New York Herald article, printed the day of the symphony’s premiere (December 15, 1893), the significance of the middle two movements. “The second move- ment is an Adagio . But it is different to the classics in this form. It is in reality a study or a sketch for a longer work, either a can- tata or an opera which [I propose] writing, and which will be based upon Longfellow’s Hiawatha . … The Scherzo of the symphony was suggested by the scene at the feast in Hi- awatha where the Indians dance, and is also an essay I made in the direction of imparting the local color of Indian music.” The lovely Largo melody is given to the En- glish horn, an instrument said to remind the composer of Burleigh’s rich baritone voice. One realizes upon hearing these inner move- ments a subtle thematic relationship to the first movement. The Allegro con fuoco finale more conspicuously incorporates earlier themes in order to achieve both unity and completion. –Program notes © 2022 Todd E. Sullivan MARIN ALSOP, conductor For Marin Alsop’s biography, see page 43. RAVINIA.ORG • RAVINIA MAGAZINE 39