Meyerbeer's operas are so intricate in their elements, and travel so
far out of the beaten track of precedent and rule, that it is
difficult to clearly describe their characteristics in a few words.
His original flow of melody could not have been very rich, for none of
his tunes have become household words, and his excessive use of that
element of opera which has nothing to do with music, as in the case of
Wagner, can have but one explanation. It is in the treatment of the
orchestra that he has added most largely to the genuine treasures of
music. His command of colour in tone-painting and power of dramatic
suggestion have rarely been equalled, and never surpassed. His genius
for musical rhythm is the most marked element in his power. This is
specially noticeable in his dance music, which is very bold,
brilliant, and voluptuous. The vivacity and grace of the ballets in
his operas save more than one act which otherwise would be
insufferably heavy and tedious. It is not too much to say that the
most spontaneous side of his creative fancy is found in these
affluent, vigorous, and stirring measures.
Meyerbeer appears always to have been uncertain of himself and his
work. There was little of that masterly prevision of effect in his
mind which is one of the attributes of the higher imagination. His
operas, though most elaborately constructed, were often entirely
modified and changed in rehearsal, and some of the finest scenes, both
in the dramatic and musical sense, were the outcome of some happy
accidental suggestion at the very last moment. "Robert," "Les
Huguenots," "Le Prophète," in the forms we have them, are quite
different from those in which they were first cast. These operas have
therefore been called "the most magnificent patchwork in the history
of art," though this is a harsh phrasing of the fact, which somewhat
outrides justice. Certain it is, however, that Meyerbeer was largely
indebted to the chapter of accidents.
The testimony of Dr. Véron, who was manager of the Grand Opera during
the most of the composer's brilliant career, is of great interest, as
illustrating this trait of Meyerbeer's composition. He tells us in his
_Mémoires_, before alluded to, that "Robert" was made and remade
before its final production. The ghastly but effective colour of the
resuscitation scene in the graveyard of the ruined convent was a
change wrought by a stage manager, who was disgusted with the chorus
of simpering women in the original. This led Meyerbeer to compose the
weird ballet music which is such a characteristic feature of "Robert
le Diable." So, too, we are told on the same authority, the fourth act
of "Les Huguenots," which is the most powerful single act in
Meyerbeer's operas, owes its present shape to Nourrit, the most
intellectual and creative tenor singer of whom we have record. It was
originally designed that the St. Bartholomew massacre should be
organised by Queen Marguerite, but Nourrit pointed out that the
interest centering in the heroine, Valentine, as an involuntary and
horrified witness, would be impaired by the predominance of another
female character. So the plot was largely reconstructed, and fresh
music written. Another still more striking attraction was the addition
of the great duet with which the act now closes--a duet which critics
have cited as an evidence of unequalled power, coming as it does at
the very heels of such an astounding chorus as "The Blessing of the
Swords." Nourrit felt that the parting of the two lovers at such a
time and place demanded such an outburst and confession as would be
wrung from them by the agony of the situation. Meyerbeer acted on the
suggestion with such felicity and force as to make it the crowning
beauty of the work. Similar changes are understood to have been made
in "Le Prophète" by advice of Nourrit, whose poetical insight seems to
have been unerring. It was left to Duprez, Nourrit's successor,
however, to be the first exponent of John of Leyden.
These instances suffice to show how uncertain and how unequal was the
grasp of Meyerbeer's genius, and to explain in part why he was so
prone to gorgeous effects, aside from that tendency of the Israelitish
nature which delights in show and glitter. We see something in it akin
to the trick of the rhetorician, who seeks to hide poverty of thought
under glittering phrases. Yet Meyerbeer rose to occasions with a force
that was something gigantic. Once his work was clearly defined in a
mind not powerfully creative, he expressed it in music with such
vigour, energy, and warmth of colour as cannot be easily surpassed.
With this composer there was but little spontaneous flow of musical
thought, clothing itself in forms of unconscious and perfect beauty,
as in the case of Mozart, Beethoven, Cherubini, Rossini, and others
who could be cited. The constitution of his mind demanded some
external power to bring forth the gush of musical energy.
The operas of Meyerbeer may be best described as highly artistic and
finished mosaic work, containing much that is precious with much that
is false. There are parts of all his operas which cannot be surpassed
for beauty of music, dramatic energy, and fascination of effect. In
addition, the strength and richness of his orchestration, which
contains original strokes not found in other composers, give him a
lasting claim on the admiration of the lovers of music. No other
composer has united so many glaring defects with such splendid power;
and were it not that Meyerbeer strained his ingenuity to tax the
resources of the singer in every possible way, not even the mechanical
difficulty of producing these operas in a fashion commensurate with
their plan would prevent their taking a high place among popular
operas.
_GOUNOD._