Chamberss Edinburgh Journal, No. 436 | Page 4

and ensemble of effect. Its musical peculiarity
over ordinary orchestras is the vast strength of stringed instruments,
which gives a peculiar verve and light vigour to the performances. The
rush of the violins in a rapid passage is overwhelming in its impetuosity
and vigour, and is said, of late years especially, to beat the 'attack,' as it
is technically called, of any of the continental Philharmonic Societies.

The Philharmonic concerts are very fashionable. It is good taste,
socially and artistically, to be present; and, consequently, the room is
always crowded by an assemblage who display most of the
characteristics of an Opera audience. The musical notabilities of town
always muster in full force at the Philharmonic. Composers, executants,
critics, amateurs, and connoisseurs, are all there, watching with the
greatest care the execution of those famous works, the great effect of
which can only be produced by the most wary and appreciative
tenderness of rendering. In the interval between the first and second
parts, the very general hum of conversation announces how great the
degree of familiarity subsisting among the habitués. There is none of
the common stiffness of waiting one sees at ordinary entertainments.
Everybody seems to know everybody else, and one general atmosphere
of genial intercourse prevails throughout the room.
Let us change the scene to a classic concert of quite another kind. In a
quiet West-end street, we are in a room of singular construction. It is in
the form of a right-angled triangle; and at the right angle, upon a small
dais, is placed the pianoforte and the desks, and so forth, for the
performers. The latter are thus visible from all points; but about
one-half the audience in each angle of the room is quite hidden from
the other. Everybody is in evening dress; the ladies very gay, and the
party very quiet--a still, drawing-room sort of air presides over the
whole. Many of the ladies are young--quite girls; and a good many of
the gentlemen are solemn old foggies, who appear strongly inclined to
go to sleep, and, in fact, sometimes do. Meantime, the music goes on.
A long, long sonata or concerto--piano and violin, or piano, violin, and
violoncello--is listened to in profound silence, with a low murmur of
applause at the end of each movement. Then perhaps comes a little
vocalism--sternly classic though--an aria from Gluck, or a solemn and
pathetic song from Mendelssohn: the performer being either a
well-known concert-singer, or a young lady--very nervous and a little
uncertain--who, it is whispered, is 'an Academy girl;' a pupil, that is, of
the institution in question. Sometimes, but not often--for it is de rigueur
that entertainments of this species shall be severely classic--we have a
phenomenon of execution upon some out-of-the-way instrument, who
performs certain miracles with springs or tubes, and in some degree

wakens up the company, who, however, not unfrequently relapse into
all their solemn primness, under a concerto manuscript, or a trio
manuscript, the composition of the bénéficiaire. Between the parts,
people go quietly into a room beneath, where there are generally some
mild prints to be turned over, some mild coffee to drink, some mild
conversation about mild things in general; and then the party remount
the stairs, and mildly listen to more mild music. This is the common
routine of a classical pianoforte soirée. The bénéficiaire is a fashionable
teacher, and, in a small way, a composer. He gives, every season, a
series, perhaps two or three series, of classic evenings. The pupils and
their families form the majority of the audience, interspersed with a few
pianoforte amateurs, and those fanatici per la musica who are to be
found wherever a violin is tuned, or a piano is opened.
Another species of classic concert is to be found in the
quartett-meetings. These take place in some small concert-room, such
as that I have described, or at the houses of the executants; and the
audience comprehends a far larger proportion of gentlemen than the
last-mentioned entertainments. The performers are four--pretty sure to
be gentlemen of the highest professional abilities. The instruments are
first and second violin, viola, and violoncello; and three or four
quartetts by the great masters, or, very probably, as many compositions,
marking the different stages of Beethoven's imagination, are played
with the most consummate skill and the tenderest regard for light and
shade. People not deep in the sympathies and tastes of the musical
world, have no idea how these compositions are loved and studied by
the real disciples of Mozart, Beethoven, and Haydn; how particular
passages are watched for; and how old gentlemen nod their heads, or
shake them at each other, according as they agree or disagree in the
manner of the interpretation. Half the audience probably know every
bar of the music by heart, and