artfully combined with the Instrumental Harmony, appeared to have no connection with it whatever; the resulting effect resembling that which would be produced, if, during the interpretation of a Symphony, some accomplished Singer were to soliloquise, aloud, in broken sentences, in such wise as neither to take an ostensible share in the performance, nor to disturb it by the introduction of irrelevant discord. An early instance of this may be found in 'Orfeo.' After the disappearance of Euridice, the Orchestra plays an excited Crescendo, quite complete in itself, during the course of which Orfeo distractedly calls his lost Bride, by name, in tones which harmonise with the Symphony, yet have not the least appearance of belonging to it. In 'Iphigénie en Tauride,' and all the later Operas, the same device is constantly adopted; and modern Composers have also used it, freely—notably Spohr, who opens his 'Faust' with a Scene, in which a Band behind the stage plays the most delightful of Minuets, while Faust and Mephistopheles sing an ordinary Recitative, accompanied by the usual Chords played by the regular Orchestra in front.
By a process of natural, if not inevitable development, this new style led to another, in which the Recitative, though still distinct from the Accompaniment, assumed a more measured tone, less melodious than that of the Air, yet more so, by far, than that used for ordinary declamation. Gluck has used this peculiar kind of Mezzo Recitativo with indescribable power, in the Prison Scene, in 'Iphigénie en Tauride.' Spohr employs it freely, almost to the exclusion of symmetrical Melody, in 'Die letzten Dinge.' Wagner makes it his cheval de bataille, introducing it everywhere, and using it, as an ever-ready medium, for the production of some of his most powerful Dramatic Effects. We have already discussed his theories on this subject, so fully, that it is unnecessary to revert to them here. [See Opera, vol. ii. pp. 526–539.] Suffice it to say that his Melos, though generally possessing all the more prominent characteristics of pure Recitative, sometimes approaches so nearly to the rhythmic symmetry of the Song, that—as in the case of 'Nun sei bedankt, mein lieben Schwann!'—it is difficult to say, positively, to which class it belongs. We may, therefore, fairly accept this as the last link in the chain which fills up the long gap between simple 'Recitative secco,' and the finished Aria.
RECITING-NOTE (Lat. Repercussio, Nota dominans). A name sometimes given to that important note, in a Gregorian Tone, on which the greater portion of every Verse of a Psalm, or Canticle, is continuously recited.[1]
As this particular note invariably corresponds with the Dominant of the Mode in which the Psalm-Tone is written, the terms, Dominant, and Reciting-Note, are frequently treated as interchangeable. [See Modes, the Ecclesiastical, vol. ii. p. 342.] The Reciting-Notes of the first eight Tones, therefore, will be A, F, C, A, C, A, D, and C, respectively.
The Reciting-Note makes its appearance twice, in the course of every Tone: first, as the initial member of the Intonation, and, afterwards, as that of the Ending; as shewn in the following example, in which it is written, each time, in the form of a Large.
The only exception to the general rule is to be found in the Tonus Peregrinus (or Irregularis), in which the true Dominant of the Ninth Mode (E) is used for the first Reciting-Note, and D for the second.
The Reciting-Notes of Tones III, V, VII, VIII, and IX, are so high that they cannot be sung, at their true pitch, without severely straining the Voice; in practice, therefore, these Tones are almost always transposed. An attempt has been sometimes made so to arrange their respective pitches as to let one note—generally A—serve for all. This plan may, perhaps, be found practically convenient: but it shews very little concern for the expression of the words, which cannot but suffer, if the jubilant phrases of one Psalm are to be recited on exactly the same note as the almost despairing accents of another.
RECORDER. An instrument of the flute family, now obsolete. Much fruitless ingenuity has been exercised as to the etymology of the name; a specimen of which may be seen in the Pictorial Edition of Shakespeare, on the passage in Hamlet, Act iii, Sc. 2. The English verb 'to record' may be referred to the Latin root Cor. 'Recordare Jesu pie' forms the opening of one of the hymns of the ancient church, embodied in the requiem or funeral mass. Here it has simply the sense of 'to remember'[2] or 'to take note of'—a signification which has descended to the modern words Records and Recorder. But there was evidently from early times a parallel meaning of 'to sing, chant,' or 'to warble like birds.' This appears plainly in the beautiful passage of Shakespeare[3]—
To the lute
She sang and made the night-bird mute
That still records with moan.
'To record,' says an old writer, 'among fowlers, is when the bird begins to tune or sing within itself.'
It is possibly from this that the name of the instrument is derived. In any case it appears in one of the 'proverbis' written about Henry VII.'s time on the walls of the manor house at Leckingfield. It is there said to 'desire' the mean part, 'but manifold fingering and stops bringeth high notes from its clear tones.' In the catalogue of instruments left by Henry VIII. are Recorders of box, oak, and ivory, great and
- ↑ In accordance with this definition, the term should also be applied to the first notes of the first and third sections of a Double Chaunt; but, as the selection of these notes is subject to no rule whatever, the word is very rarely used in connection with them.
- ↑ Compare the expression, 'to get by 'heart.'
- ↑ Pericles, Act. iv.
