pieces, such as 'Ch'io mi scordi,' 'Bella mia fiamina,' 'Ahi, lo previdi,' 'Misera, dove son?' and others, too numerous to mention, most of them written for the Stage, though some are clearly intended for the Concert-room, notwithstanding their powerful dramatic expression. To this latter class of Scenas must be referred Beethoven's magnificent 'Ah, perfido!' which ranks, with the Scenas for Leonore, and Florestan, in 'Fidelio,' among his most passionate Compositions for Voice and Orchestra. The Scena was, unquestionably, Weber's strongest point—witness his three magnificent examples, 'Durch die Wälder,' 'Wie nahte mir die Schlmmner,' and 'Ocean, du Ungeheuer,' and his six 'Concert Arien'—of which, however, five only have as yet been published. The grand Scena, in B♭, for Kunegunde in 'Faust,' is one of Spohr's most notable masterpieces: and the same Composer's impassioned Instrumental Scena, for Violin and Orchestra, stands quite alone, as an inspiration of the highest order. He also wrote a very fine Scena for the Concert-room 'Tu m'abbandoni' (op. 71): and Mendelssohn has left us a priceless treasure of this class, in his 'Infelice,' which embodies an amount of scenic power no less remarkable than that thrown into the numerous similar movements in his Oratorios. The secret of success, in all these cases, lies in the intensity of dramatic expression embodied in the work. When this is present, no really great Composer ever fails to hit his mark. In its absence, the outward form of the Scena becomes a meaningless absurdity—a truth which has not been sufficiently considered by some writers of later date.
SCENARIO. An Italian term, meaning a sketch of the scenes and main points of an opera libretto, drawn up and settled preliminary to filling in the detail.
SCHABLONE. The German term for a stencil or pattern, and thence in musical criticism often applied to music written with too much adherence to mechanical form or manner, whether the composer's own, or some one else's—made on a cut and dried pattern. The term capellmeister-musik is used by the German critics for a similar thing. With a slightly different metaphor we should say, 'cast in the same mould.'
SCHACHTNER, Johann Andreas, from 1754 trumpeter to the Archbishop of Salzburg, and previously, according to a letter of Mozart's (Oct. 17, 1777) in the church-choir at Ingolstadt, where he was brought up in the Jesuit school. He died in 1795. He was a thorough musician (much greater knowledge was required to play the trumpet then than now) and had literary tastes besides. Being intimate with the Mozart family he watched with great interest the extraordinary early development of Wolfgang's genius, and 20 years later wrote, at the request of Mozart's sister, a letter[1] to which we owe a host of characteristic and touching details. His affection was fully returned, for 'Wolfgangerl' would ask him a dozen times a day if he was really fond of him, and when Schachtner would sometimes in fun say 'No,' the tears would start into his eyes 'so loving and so tender was his little heart.' When the two were carrying his toys from one room to the other Wolfgang would insist on their either singing or fiddling a march. To Schachtner too the father showed the blotted MS. of the first PF. concerto, and related the little fellow's answer to his objection that it was too difficult—'That is just why it is called a concerto; people must practise till they can play it,' upon which he set to work to try and play it himself. At this time he was 4, and two years later, after his return from Vienna, when some trios by a friend were being tried, he begged to be allowed to play the second violin, and cried at his father's refusal (he had had absolutely no instruction in the violin), till at Schachtner's intercession Leopold Mozart gave way, saying, 'You may play with Herr Schachtner; but you must do it softly so that nobody may hear you.' Schachtner soon found himself superfluous, and was not surprised to see tears of joy in the father's eyes. Among other traits, Schachtner relates as a proof of the extreme delicacy of the boy's ear his pointing out that Schachtner's violin was a half-a- quarter of a tone lower than his own, and on another occasion his fainting at the sound of the trumpet, of which up to ten, he had a positive dread. Schachtner wrote the libretto of an opera[2] which Mozart intended for Vienna, and had made great progress with, and translated the libretto of 'Idomeneo' into German, thus enabling Leopold Mozart to say (letter to Breitkopf, Aug. 10, 1781) that it was entirely the work of persons living in Salzburg, 'the poetry by Court-chaplain Varesco, the music by my son, and the German translation by Herr Schachtner.' (Jahn's 'Mozart, i. 564.)
SCHACK, Benedict, the first Tamino, and one of the party[3] who stood round Mozart's bed the night before his death, and at his request sang the completed portions of the 'Requiem' as far as the first bars of the 'Lacrimosa,' when he broke into violent weeping at the thought that he should never finish it. Schack, who was born in 1758, was a man of general cultivation, a thorough musician, and a good flute-player. He composed several operas for Schikaneder's theatre. Mozart was on intimate terms with him, and would often come and fetch him for a walk, and while waiting for Schack to dress, would sit down at his desk and touch up his scores. Schack's voice was a fine tenor, flexible and sonorous, and his execution thoroughly artistic, but he was a poor actor.[4] In 1787 he was taking second parts only; in 1792 he sang Tamino, Count Almaviva, and Don Ottavio (Don Gonsalvo in the German translation) after which we hear no more of him as a singer. His
- ↑ Dated April 24, 1792. Given in full by Jahn, i. 19.
- ↑ Completed by André as 'Zaïde.' Jahn thinks it was most likely adapted from the French.
- ↑ The others were Mozart's brother-in-law, Hofer, the violinist, and Franz Xaver Gerl, a bass-singer, and the first Sarastro. Mozart himelf sang the alto.
- ↑ Jahn's 'Mozart,' ii. 510.
