Philip Hale's Boston Symphony Programme Notes — Story, Setting & Ideas

A Dual Voice: Critic and Historian

Burk’s editorial method is explicit: he draws from the programme books Hale wrote for thirty-two years, then supplements them with “pertinent critical paragraphs” from Hale’s newspaper columns. A typographical ornament marks the shift from criticism to descriptive note. This structure lets readers compare Hale’s private enthusiasm or skepticism with the measured tone he adopted for concertgoers. For example, his note on Mendelssohn’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream overture is a dry chronicle of performances, keys, and themes; the accompanying review, if included, would presumably show a different register. The editor notes that Hale “never spoke as a major prophet, but as one who might be discussing a favorite subject over a demi-tasse.”

Precision in Description: The Mendelssohn Example

Hale’s note on the Midsummer Night’s Dream overture demonstrates his method. He traces the work’s premiere at Stettin in 1827, the lost score in a hackney coach, and the dedication to the Crown Prince of Prussia. Then he describes the music with technical specificity: the opening “allegro di molto, E major, 2-2, with four prolonged chords in the wood-wind,” followed by a “pianissimo chord of E minor in violins and violas.” He identifies the “fairy music,” the Bergomask dance, and even an allusion to Bottom’s bray. A curious detail—the descending cello scale suggested by “the buzzing of a big fly in the Schoenhauser Garten”—shows Hale’s willingness to include anecdotal color within a factual framework.

Tempo and Judgment Across Decades

The editor’s introduction reveals a striking self-awareness in Hale. In 1912 he predicted that a student in 1945 would “be amused by opinions expressed by us all, of works first heard in 1912.” Burk, writing in 1935, finds cause for wonder at Hale’s “quick perception of essential values upon first hearing.” The volume thus becomes a test case for critical longevity: which judgments hold, which falter? Hale’s contemporaries often “wrote laughably of a then new tone poem of Richard Strauss or pastel of Claude Debussy,” while Hale delivered “a sane and still quotable judgment.” The reader is invited to observe how Hale’s prose shifts pace—from the unhurried historical narrative of the programme note to the sharper, more personal tone of the newspaper paragraph.

Because the excerpts here are limited to the editor’s note and one programme note on Mendelssohn, the full range of Hale’s voice—from the brisk critical aside to the leisurely historical essay—can only be glimpsed. Readers interested in how a working critic balanced documentation and opinion will find this collection a rich case study. The typographical ornament between review and note becomes a small but telling marker of a divided professional self.

There’s something tender about reading those old programme notes—Hale’s patient hand guiding us through thirty-two seasons, balancing fact with his own quiet judgments. It reminds me of sitting with The Perfect Wagnerite: A Commentary on the Niblung's Ring — Background and Themes, where the same careful voice turns myth into something almost conversational. Both feel like letters from a thoughtful friend, not lectures.