The Ornithological Combat of Kings?

Anthony Philip Heinrich is both an example and an exception of the stereotypical musician and composer from the Romantic period. Though Heinrich was an immigrant from Bohemia, he considered himself an American and was the first professional American composer as we understand the occupation. He was famous not only in the United States, but experienced acclaim on many of the orchestral tours he took to Europe. He exhibited many of the behaviors of the archetypical Romantic musician, from introducing Beethoven to the American public to composing highly programmatic works to closeting himself away in the wilds of Kentucky to celebrate nature[i], but he also departed from the standard with the sheer quirkiness shown in his music. In his composition for orchestra entitled The Ornithological Combat of Kings, these two sides of this composer come together in an amusing yet unexpected work.

The Ornithological Combat of Kings or The Condor of the Andes and The Eagle of the Cordilleras (Grand Symphony) is laid out in typical symphony fashion, beginning with a fast movement, followed by a slow movement, a minuet and a fast finale. The first movement, entitled “The Conflict of the Condor in the Air,” begins with a light and somewhat floating theme in the upper strings and woodwinds and quickly branches out to include the rest of the orchestra. Heinrich incorporates the different timbers of the orchestra well here, showing of the different colors of his ensemble. The music escalates in intensity, jumping back and forth between frolicking passages in the strings and upper woodwinds and brief fanfares in the brass, until it arrives at a more somber rendition of the beginning idea. After a brief swell, the conflict resolves and the movement ends quietly.

The second movement, “The Repose of the Condor,” is slow and begins, to my ears, with a slightly menacing and sustained melody in the lower strings. The piece continues in a similar fashion and midway through, the strings have a section that resembles a country dance. An element of folk music is present before Heinrich inserts a random snippet of composition that is much different in tempo, tone and style. After an extremely brief interlude there, he returns to the folk melody and closes out the movement with a flourish.

The third movement, “The Combat of the Condor,” opens with a bold dynamic and continues at slightly frenetic pace. The music a sense of urgency, and Heinrich has definitely upped the rhythmic intensity, building the momentum throughout. There is also a more extended use of the percussion than in previous movements. Although there are brief moments of respite, the movement carries on in a rousing manner until the triumphant conclusion.

The fourth movement, “Victory of the Condor,” starts out unobtrusively, subtlety mirroring the earlier dancelike style. It does however promise a bigger conclusion from that humble start, and Heinrich does not disappoint. The work steadily builds towards an exciting conclusion, even though it occasionally veers off to explore other ideas. However, Heinrich fools us after an exciting climax by ending the piece with a quiet duet of flutes over a pedal tone in the low strings.

There were elements of this I enjoyed, although I do not want to say I thoroughly liked the piece. There were moments where I was puzzled, and it sometimes felt like Heinrich just wrote something and then randomly inserted it in the piece. At the same time, there is a definite sense of the composer and with it a refreshing individuality that I have to respect. Heinrich was not much concerned with the way others perceived his music and concentrated on writing what appealed to him and presenting that to his audience. Considered by some to be the first American composer, Heinrich was very different from other early American composers like Stephen Foster. Whereas Foster’s music spoke to the American population, Heinrich was removed from the popular spotlight because of his elaborate music. He did not alter his style of composition, maintaining the complexity of his ideas even in popular song composition.[ii] I wasn’t completely sure what exactly Heinrich was trying communicate with this composition (despite the lengthy title and descriptions), but I did find myself engaged, particularly in the last movement. I responded to the urgency throughout, and I definitely had an increasing sense of excitement. Though the ending was not what I expected, I thought it was beautiful.

After listening to the work and learning a little about the history of Heinrich, I can understand why this work and the work of Heinrich in general is not a part of the canon. There is an element of randomness to the music that is somewhat beyond the parameters of Romantic music. As William Brooks notes in his contribution to the Cambridge History of American Music, “his music wanders freely through America’s collectively held landscapes en route to a destination that may little resemble the starting point.”[iii]Though there is the programmatic element to consider, the music is lacking in a cohesive element that keeps the absolute focus of the listener. If there were a written program explaining some of the more random flights of fancy, the listener would have something to guide them through the piece. Each movement has a specific title and I think a brief explanation of why would be extremely helpful. When I was trying to fit Heinrich into the Romantic canon, the name Carlo Gesualdo came to mind. I seem to remember someone describing Gesualdo as a kind of offshoot in the Renaissance canon. This description can also be used to describe Heinrich, who followed the beat of his own drum. His music is engaging and does exhibit characteristics of the Romantic era but also maintains a separate sense of identify and whimsy that is entirely Heinrich.
[i] Denise Von Glahn, The Sounds of Place; Music and the American Cultural Landscape (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 2003) 269.
[ii] Richard Crawford, America’s Musical Life (New York, London: W.W. Norton & Company, 2000) 317-318
[iii] William Brooks, “Music in America: an overview (part 1)” in The Cambridge History of American Music, ed. David Nicholls (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998) 42-43