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<jats:title>Abstract</jats:title> <jats:p>Benjamin Britten was one of several twentieth-century British composers active before the Second World War who wrote “anthology cycles”—that is, cyclic vocal works on poetry anthologies of the composer's own making. This apparently British invention is deeply indebted to the widespread success of the anthology as a literary form in classrooms, homes, and marketplaces of Victorian and Edwardian England. Britten's early attraction to canonical anthologies such as Arthur Quiller-Couch's Oxford Book of English Verse (1900), for example, is representative of a cultural practice of reading. Britten and other British composers renewed their connection to that practice when they became anthologists for their musical works, identifying themselves as arbiters of poetic and musical taste.</jats:p> <jats:p>Britten's anthology cycle Serenade for tenor, horn, and strings (1943) uses Quiller-Couch's Oxford Book for as many as four of its six texts, many of which share pastoral themes. And yet the composer's musical settings often seem to challenge a conventional reading of the chosen texts and the generic titles Britten assigned to each movement. By creating a canonical, pastoral anthology and then challenging it through music, Britten, who had just returned to England from the United States, invested Serenade with the potential to present the world of prewar England as embattled.</jats:p>

<jats:title>Abstract</jats:title> <jats:p>The pedagogical treatise is generally understood to be a manual of singing or instrumental techniques that is largely practical in approach, yet a critique of violin tutor books dating from the early twentieth century, especially those written by the renowned violinists Joseph Joachim (writing in conjunction with Andreas Moser), Leopold Auer, and Carl Flesch, reveals an extensive engagement with a range of wider ideologies. In a bid to trump the supposedly deadening effects of both a historicism resulting from the availability of earlier treatises, as well as the overly scientific approach taken by contemporaneous treatises, these violinist-authors embrace metaphysical ideals of mind or vitality, and the result is a model of violin playing founded on the concept of “singing tone,” an idea developed out of nineteenth-century notions of song/melody as embodying a vital essence. As did Wagner, in his 1869 essay Über das Dirigiren, writers play with the idea that theoretical and performative categories, such as tempo, phrasing, dynamics, vibrato, and types of bow stroke, both conflict with each other and find a deeper unity in a subjectivist ideal of tone. The approach of these texts is not explorative, however, so much as a rather defensive championing of the idea of mind or vitality: ideologies of self, health, and nationalism ultimately prevail over an engagement with historical evidence in Moser's discussion of ornaments, and Auer's intolerance of any mitigating influence that might qualify the artist's final word on aesthetic matters is reminiscent of a reductive, Nietzschean ideal of vitality. Nevertheless, writers struggle to reconcile it with the messier realities of performing, as an embodied and collaborative activity, and subsequently what speaks louder in their texts are anxieties over affronts to notions of self, expressed using pathological notions common to the era. Whereas at times writers encourage students of the violin to share in their lauding of vitalistic ideals, more often than not they try to impose disciplinary measures as a means of inculcating them.</jats:p>