It has always appeared to me a curious fact that whereas one so often sees facsimile reproductions of the MSS. of famous authors and others, it is a comparatively rare occurrence to come across the compositions of musical composers treated in the same way, and I therefore determined to undertake the work of placing before the readers of this magazine portions of the MSS. of some of the foremost composers of the day, together with their opinions relative to that art of which they are the masters.
It may interest my readers still further to learn that the MSS. were, in most instances, re-written for me by the composers, with the object of their being produced in THE STRAND MAGAZINE. They are given here as specimens of their compositions _when ready for publication_, for the first jottings of a composer are, as a rule, intelligible only to himself.
Sir J. Barnby, the late Precentor of Eton College, and newly elected Principal of the Guildhall School of Music, writes:--
"As a rule I do not work at the piano except to test what has already been written down. I have found ideas come most readily in the railway carriage or during a drive, and the time I prefer for composition is the morning."
"I see no objection to a composer writing 'to order,' as long as he sends out nothing of which he does not approve. Handel's 'Dettingen Te Deum,' Mozart's 'Requiem,' Mendelssohn's 'Elijah,' and a hundred other works furnish us with successful examples of this class of composition.
"I do not," he continues, "consider the _art_ of composing one which can be acquired (the science may), but such an art is all but useless without serious cultivation."
In his modesty, Sir Joseph will give no opinion as to which he considers his best work, but sends, for publication here, a few bars of one of his part-songs which has had the widest acceptance--"Sweet and Low."
Mr. Barnett's method of composing I give in his own words:--
"Sometimes," he says, "an idea will come to me spontaneously, but when this is not the case I try for something, generally at the piano. If I succeed, I dot it down on music paper, but do not feel satisfied that it will be of any worth until I try it again the following day, because I have not infrequently found that an idea, which I considered good at the time, after the lapse of a day or more will appear to me insipid and not worth working out. I prefer the evening for composition, but not too late. For working out my ideas, putting them on paper, and for orchestration, I like the morning. Of my own compositions I consider 'The Building of the Ship,' written for the Leeds Festival, the best work I have yet done."