Henceforward the career of the greatest of the Italian composers, the
genius who shares with Mozart the honour of having impressed himself
more than any other on the style and methods of his successors, was to
be associated with French music, though never departing from his
characteristic quality as an original and creative mind. He modified
French music, and left great disciples on whom his influence was
radical, though perhaps we may detect certain reflex influences in his
last and greatest opera, "William Tell." But of this more hereafter.
Before finally settling in the French capital, Rossini visited London,
where he was received with great honours. "When Rossini entered,"[H]
says a writer in a London paper of that date, "he was received with
loud plaudits, all the persons in the pit standing on the seats to get
a better view of him. He continued for a minute or two to bow
respectfully to the audience, and then gave the signal for the
overture to begin. He appeared stout and somewhat below the middle
height, with rather a heavy air, and a countenance which, though
intelligent, betrayed none of the vivacity which distinguishes his
music; and it was remarked that he had more of the appearance of a
sturdy beef-eating Englishman than a fiery and sensitive native of the
south."
The king, George IV., treated Rossini with peculiar consideration. On
more than one occasion he walked with him arm-in-arm through a crowded
concert-hall to the conductor's stand. Yet the composer, who seems not
to have admired his English Majesty, treated the monarch with much
independence, not to say brusqueness, on one occasion, as if to
signify his disdain of even royal patronage. At a grand concert at St.
James's Palace, the king said, at the close of the programme, "Now,
Rossini, we will have one piece more, and that shall be the _finale_."
The other replied, "I think, sir, we have had music enough for one
night," and made his bow.
He was an honoured guest at the most fashionable houses, where his
talents as a singer and player were displayed with much effect in an
unconventional, social way. Auber, the French composer, was present on
one of these occasions, and indicates how great Rossini could have
been in executive music had he not been a king in the higher sphere.
"I shall never forget the effect," writes Auber, "produced by his
lightning-like execution. When he had finished I looked mechanically
at the ivory keys. I fancied I could see them smoking." Rossini was
richer by seven thousand pounds by this visit to the English
metropolis. Though he had been under engagement to produce a new opera
as well as to conduct those which had already made him famous, he
failed to keep this part of his contract. Passages in his letters at
this time would seem to indicate that Rossini was much piqued because
the London public received his wife, to whom he was devotedly
attached, with coldness. Notwithstanding the beauty of her face and
figure, and the greatness of her style both as actress and singer, she
was pronounced _passée_ alike in person and voice, with a species of
brutal frankness not uncommon in English criticism.
When Rossini arrived in Paris he was almost immediately appointed
director of the Italian Opera by the Duc de Lauriston. With this and
the Académie he remained connected till the revolution of 1830. "Le
Siége de Corinthe," adapted from his old work, "Maometto II.," was the
first opera presented to the Parisian public, and, though admired, did
not become a favourite. The French _amour propre_ was a little stung
when it was made known that Rossini had simply modified and reshaped
one of his early and immature productions as his first attempt at
composition in French opera. His other works for the French stage were
"Il Viaggio a Rheims," "Le Comte Ory," and "Guillaume Tell."
The last-named opera, which will ever be Rossini's crown of glory as a
composer, was written with his usual rapidity while visiting the
château of M. Aguado, a country-seat some distance from Paris. This
work, one of the half-dozen greatest ever written, was first produced
at the Académie Royale on August 3, 1829. In its early form of
libretto it had a run of fifty-six representations, and was then
withdrawn from the stage; and the work of remodelling from five to
three acts, and other improvements in the dramatic framework, was
thoroughly carried out. In its new form the opera blazed into an
unprecedented popularity, for of the greatness of the music there had
never been but one judgment. Fétis, the eminent critic, writing of it
immediately on its production, said--"The work displays a new man in
an old one, and proves that it is in vain to measure the action of
genius," and follows with--"This production opens a new career to
Rossini," a prophecy unfortunately not to be realised, for Rossini was
soon to retire from the field in which he had made such a remarkable
career, while yet in the very prime of his powers.
"Guillaume Tell" is full of melody, alike in the solos and the massive
choral and ballet music. It runs in rich streams through every part of
the composition. The overture is better known to the general public
than the opera itself, and is one of the great works of musical art.
The opening andante in triple time for the five violoncelli and
double basses at once carries the hearer to the regions of the upper
Alps, where, amid the eternal snows, Nature sleeps in a peaceful
dream. We perceive the coming of the sunlight, and the hazy atmosphere
clearing away before the new-born day. In the next movement the
solitude is all dispelled. The raindrops fall thick and heavy, and a
thunderstorm bursts. But the fury is soon spent, and the clouds clear
away. The shepherds are astir, and from the mountain-sides come the
peculiar notes of the "Ranz des Vaches" from their pipes. Suddenly all
is changed again. Trumpets call to arms, and with the mustering
battalions the music marks the quickstep, as the shepherd patriots
march to meet the Austrian chivalry. A brilliant use of the violins
and reeds depicts the exultation of the victors on their return, and
closes one of the grandest sound-paintings in music.
The original cast of "Guillaume Tell" included the great singers then
in Paris, and these were so delighted with the music, that the morning
after the first production they assembled on the terrace before his
house and performed selections from it in his honour.
With this last great effort Rossini, at the age of thirty-seven, may
be said to have retired from the field of music, though his life was
prolonged for forty years. True, he composed the "Stabat Mater" and
the "Messe Solennelle," but neither of these added to the reputation
won in his previous career. The "Stabat Mater," publicly performed for
the first time in 1842, has been recognised, it is true, as a
masterpiece; but its entire lack of devotional solemnity, its
brilliant and showy texture, preclude its giving Rossini any rank as a
religious composer.
He spent the forty years of his retirement partly at Bologna, partly
at Passy, near Paris, the city of his adoption. His hospitality
welcomed the brilliant men from all parts of Europe who loved to visit
him, and his relations with other great musicians were of the most
kindly and cordial character. His sunny and genial nature never knew
envy, and he was quick to recognise the merits of schools opposed to
his own. He died, after intense suffering, on November 13, 1868. He
had been some time ill, and four of the greatest physicians in Europe
were his almost constant attendants. The funeral of "The Swan of
Pesaro," as he was called by his compatriots, was attended by an
immense concourse, and his remains rest in Père-Lachaise.