Music Lovers Give Honor to Mascagni

[Original newspaper illustration caption: “Mascagni in One of His Characteristic Poses With the Baton”]

Mascagni has musical San Francisco at his feet and the humility is fitting. His initial concert, given yesterday afternoon at the Alhambra Theater, was an occasion long to be remembered. Italy's famous composer and conductor had an ovation that might well have warmed his sunny heart to the people of California, and the large audience gathered in his honor had the privilege of listening to the most notable programme of its kind ever given in this city. At the conclusion of the first number, the splendid old "William Tell" overture, the audience was storming its approval and shouting "bravos"; at the close, before the tremendous climax of the "Hymn to the Sun" from Mascagni's new opera "Iris" had hushed, it was standing and cheering, absolutely regardless of anything but the desire to do sufficient honor to the man whose interpretation of other people's music as well as his own was a revelation. The capitulation was complete. Mascagni is irresistible. In truth, he received a tribute seldom accorded any one in this city, for while San Francisco patronizes music and has a well-deserved reputation among the world's artists, it is critical in the extreme and seldom makes a demonstration. Accustomed dignity went to the winds yesterday.

As a conductor, Mascagni is absolutely without affectation. He works too hard for poses. He leads with both hands, with his head, with his eyes and apparently with every fiber of his body. He compels recognition of his tremendous intelligence and the great passionate sweep of his temperament. Not one note did he use throughout the long programme. He has passed far beyond the necessity of thinking of the technique of the masterpieces as well as that of his own compositions which have given him a place among the elect in the world of music. He is free to give all his attention to the color, the subtle things, the mysteries that lie hidden in the music, far from the ken and sight of the ordinary and even the more than ordinary leader.

There were plenty to admit yesterday that they had never really heard the William Tell overture before. In Mascagni's hands, it told the story of the Alps with infinite tenderness and with fine strength as well, as the one attribute is always the concomitant of the other. The thrilling beauty in it sent the blood pulsing with an unwonted exhilaration.

The same and more could be said of Mascagni's presentation of Tschaikowsky's great "Symphony Pathetique." In his hands this wonderful play of human emotions, which runs the gamut of striving, hoping, loving, despairing, gained added meaning. When one recall followed another Mascagni wanted to divide the honors with the orchestra, recalling what he has said, that never before has he found from any set of men so quick and so sympathetic a response.

Mascagni's suite to the "Eternal City" proved as interesting as all the good things he has written. The third and fourth chapters of this tribute to Hall Caine's book were full of beauty and suggesting, and they had in them that peculiar something in melody and harmony which has made the "Intermezzo" one of the little immortelles. There is something so human about Mascagni's compositions.

And because the audience was appreciative and showed that it wanted to hear all that Mascagni had to present, the reward came in the "Intermezzo," which was given as an encore to the suite. Mascagni phrased and accentuated it with greater precision than has been accorded it by the ordinary orchestras. The shading was exquisite.

The "Traumerei" of Schumann was one of the beautifully cut gems of the musical crown, and then came Mascagni's latest pretty bit, "The Dance of the Dolls," for strings. This preceded the Hymn to the Sun from "Iris," with full orchestra and 100 voices. It was so big, so great that it left an unquenchable longing to hear the entire opera. If the opera as a whole is equal to this part, Mascagni will rank in good time with the greatest writers of opera the world has known.

For all this pleasure, a word of commendation is due Will Greenbaum, the local manager, who was willing to bring all the way to California the man who for reasons unaccountable had trouble of every kind from the moment he landed in this country. Seeing and hearing and meeting Mascagni adds to the mystification of the almost ceaseless trouble that has beset him. At last, San Francisco will be a place of kind memories for him when he is back in Italy.

In addition to bringing Mascagni here, Greenbaum, who has taken the Alhambra Theater for five years, has made it habitable and comfortably warm.

Mascagni's second programme will be given to-morrow. There is some talk of adding the great chorus from "Iris" to the following programme: "Vorspiel to Die Meistersinger," Wagner; symphony No. 2, Goldmark; Liebestod ("Tristan and Isolde"), Wagner; numbers from William Ratcliff and Amico Fritz, Mascagni; overture 1812, Tschaikowsky.

Sunday's concert will be sacred, including Rossini's "Stabat Mater," with Miss Grace Northrup Davis, Mrs. M. E. Blanchard, J. F. Veaco and Signor G. Wanrell as soloists and a chorus of 100 people.