has shed its radiance over entire Europe, and that that radiance seemed
to eclipse everything around him. After having reigned master of the art
in his own country for fifteen years, he increased his influence still
more by his contact with France, and it was in France, whose temperament,
full of taste, eclecticism and reason, he knew so marvellously, that he
wrote his most magnificent masterpiece, _William Tell_, before which all
his former works pale, with the exception of _The Barber of Seville_. If
_The Barber_ is the imperishable and prodigious model of opera bouffe,
_William Tell_ is the most touching, the most striking dramatic poem
which ever flowed from his pen. Either would suffice for his glory, and
both assign to him a unique and quite exceptional place in the history of
musical art in the nineteenth century.
[Illustration: Arthur Pougin]
[Illustration: FRESCO FROM VIENNA OPERA HOUSE
Representing scene from the "Barber of Seville."]
[Illustration: VINCENZO BELLINI
_Reproduction of a portrait in the possession of Francesco Florimo, a
fellow-student with Bellini in Naples. Engraved by C. Deblois._]
[Illustration]
VINCENZO BELLINI
Toward the end of the last century there came to the pleasant and
prosperous city of Catania, in Sicily, a musician named Vincenzo Bellini.
He had a large family, and his eldest son, Rosario, followed the family
profession as a teacher and church organist. Rosario married young, and
on the 1st of November, 1801, his first child was born and was named
Vincenzo, for his grandfather. The usual stories of precocious talent
are attributed to this boy, but the fact remains that he showed from
his childhood a strongly musical disposition, and that his talent was
so well cultivated by his father and grandfather that he could play the
piano passably when five years old, and at six wrote some small religious
settings. As he grew the artistic temperament manifested itself strongly,
both in efforts to follow professional lines, and in the fitful moodiness
characteristic of such natures.
It was soon evident that the boy had obtained all that Catania could
give him. His father had not the means to provide properly for him, and
consequently he petitioned the municipality to send Vincenzo to Naples.
The royal intendant received the petition favorably, and an annual
allowance was granted in May, 1819.
On leaving Sicily, Bellini took excellent letters of recommendation to
persons of consequence in Naples, and particularly to Nicolo Zingarelli,
who was the director of the Conservatory. For two years he was taught by
Giacomo di Tritto, then an old man, but still famous not only for his
own able compositions, but also for his training of his students. Then
he passed on to Zingarelli, under whom his progress was so notable that
he was promoted to the honorable position of first assistant master.
Yet, as his after life proved, this progress was due more to the natural
expansion of his powers than to any steady and systematic use of them.
During this period, Bellini wrote a good many things, of which nothing
is now heard, because they were done perfunctorily, and belonged to such
classes of composition as did not suit his genius.
Nevertheless, his individuality and its peculiar bent could not be
altogether hidden, and he more than once provoked the angry censure of
Zingarelli, who could not abide innovations, and who went so far as to
say that if this rebelliously independent pupil persisted in writing the
opera which he purposed, he must do it unaided. The youth kept on, and
soon finished his music for "Adelson e Salvini," the text being an old
libretto of Fioravanti. This opera, performed by fellow-pupils on the
Conservatory stage, gave some hints of original talent, but as a whole it
left such an impression that its author indorsed it, "A poor mess." This
was in 1825, and the failure was balanced by the success of a cantata
entitled "Ismene," which Bellini wrote for a royal festival in San Carlo.
From that night dates his course of almost unbroken success. The famous
Barbaja was managing San Carlo, and, moved by his own faith and the
urgency of patrons, he gave Bellini a commission. Desirous to complete
this in another atmosphere, and to fly from scenes which were painfully
associated with his affection for a girl who had been refused to him by
her parents, Bellini went to Catania, and returning, brought "Bianca e
Gernando," which was performed in May, 1826, by a splendid cast. The
writing was unequal, and some of the critical thought they felt the hand
of Zingarelli in its best pages. It had a fair success, nevertheless, and
Bellini received the handsome amount of three hundred ducats, besides the
bright assurance of a prosperous future.
Barbaja was the _impresario_ of La Scala, at Milan, also, and with his
accustomed shrewdness he promptly engaged Bellini to write an opera
for that stage. To Milan accordingly the young composer went. Here
he associated himself with Felice Romani, the most famous Italian
librettist, who, whatever may be said of his style, understood dramatic
and lyrical effects, and was now at the height of his ability and
reputation.
The first result of this union was "Il Pirata," produced at La Scala,
Oct. 27, 1827, with a cast including Rubini, Tamburini, and Mme.
Méric-Lalande. Bellini bore his new honors modestly, and with more of
hope than triumph. Soon Vienna had indorsed the verdict of Milan, and the
composer's fame was now not Italian, but European.
Competition for Bellini's services soon began. The Carlo Felice, at
Genoa, was about to open, and its manager asked for Bellini's next opera.
This--"La Straniera"--was already bespoken, and the Genoese therefore
offered eight thousand francs to reproduce "Bianca e Gernando," provided
the author would revise it. The sum was tempting, and in April, 1828, the
public applauded this reformed edition.
"La Straniera" cost its authors much trouble, for there were situations
which poet and musician could not see and feel alike; but at last their
spirits harmonized, and on Feb. 14, 1829, this opera met a magnificent
reception at La Scala. A richer, more varied, and deeper talent was there
shown than in any preceding work, and the proud Catanians caused an
honorary medal to be struck in commemoration of it.
Now Parma offered Bellini a remunerative commission, which he accepted,
and went thither to prepare his work. He began badly, for he declined
the collaboration of a favorite local writer, in order not to separate
himself from Romani. The latter's libretto, "Zaira," was poor, and
Bellini was not in good vein. All things worked together for ill; so the
opera, produced in 1829, was a failure, and only a couple of extracts
from it remain.
The other operas were doing so well as to console him for this
mortification, and he went from city to city to prepare them for
presentation. Venice begged something new for La Fenice; and Bellini,
reverting to an early admiration for the story of "Romeo and Juliet,"
accepted from Romani, "I Capuletti ed i Montecchi," which was given in
March, 1830, Grisi making one of the cast, and such parts of "Zaira" as
were worth saving being wrought into the score. Success attained the
height of a popular ovation, and Francis I., of Naples, sent Bellini the
medal of Civil Merit, while he, in turn, dedicated his work in grateful
terms to his fellow-citizens of Catania.
But Milan, jealous of the attentions heaped by other cities upon her
favorite composer, insisted on his return. Scarcely had he arrived when
he was seized with an intestinal disorder which brought him to death's
door. But youth, care, and skill saved him, and he began at once his new
score, destined for the Carcano, which had a fine company and repertory,
and was fairly rivalling La Scala. This score was "La Sonnambula," the
libretto of which Romani had founded on a comedietta by Scribe. Bellini
was anxious to excel himself, for the leading singers were none other
than Pasta and Rubini. The conditions were favorable, for the fascinating
and profitable society of these artists and especially of la Pasta,
influenced and stimulated his genius. On March 6, 1831, "La Sonnambula"
was produced and began that triumphant success which shows small sign of
waning.
The management of La Scala at once made Bellini an offer for his next
work, among the tempting conditions being the payment of three thousand
ducats, and for his interpreters, Pasta, Grisi, Donzelli, and Negrini.
The libretto was just after Bellini's own heart, the writing was rapidly
accomplished, and on Dec. 26, 1831, only some nine months after the
production of "La Sonnambula," "Norma" was sung for the first time on
the stage of La Scala. Strangely as it seems now, the opera was almost
a failure. The theme was larger and nobler than any which Bellini had
treated, and he had risen to its height, leaving behind his light,
familiar style, and assuming a breadth and strength of diction in
which his admirers did not recognize him. Bellini was astonished and
disappointed, but after a few performances a great and deep enthusiasm
succeeded the indifference and half-hostility of the early nights.
[Illustration: MONUMENT TO BELLINI IN CATANIA.]
A brief leisure now intervened, which was employed in visits to Naples,
and to Catania, where still were the family whom he had not seen for
several years. He received ovations everywhere; his operas were sung,
in part or entire, in the principal theatres along his route, he was
made a member of the Bourbon Academy in Naples, and at Catania the royal
intendant conducted him in a state carriage, drawn by four horses, to his
home. At Naples also Barbaja was waiting for him with offers for three
new works to be written for San Carlo; but Bellini could not gratify him.
[Illustration: BUST OF BELLINI BY DANTAN.
From the Carnavalet Museum, Paris.]
His stay in Sicily was short. In about a month he returned, and after
pausing in several cities to direct productions of his works, he came
again to Venice, in August, 1832, preparing an opera for the Fenice.
Various trivial causes had raised up jealousies against him, and his
libretto was unsatisfactory, because Romani had neglected work for
pleasure. So when the new opera, which was "Beatrice di Tenda," was
produced, on March 16, 1833, it fell flat and never afterward recovered
any prominence, although it contained some excellent scenes.
But the ill success of this opera was as nothing to the triumphs of its
predecessors, and it began to be apparent that Bellini must follow his
music to Paris and London, where his scores were established favorites.
Contracts from both had been tendered him early in 1833, and he went
directly to London to produce "La Sonnambula" and "Norma." His stay there
was a social as well as an artistic success, but he could not protract
it, because his engagements with the Italian Opera in Paris called him
thither early in 1834. His reception was most flattering, and his friends
hoped that good influences would induce him to study the important
department of orchestration, which he had always neglected. But Parisian
fascinations and pleasures had more power over him, and he could not
forget them even in the quiet residence which he had found at Puteaux,
on the Seine. He set himself to work resolutely, however, and toward the
end of the year it was evident that "I Puritani" would be ready early
in 1835. In fact, on Jan. 25 it was given, the whole house having been
bespoken long in advance. The audience was distinguished, and the triumph
unqualified. A distinct advance--due perhaps more to observation than
to toil--was apparent all through the work, and the French critics and
connoisseurs promptly gave him credit for it.
Honors poured in upon Bellini. He was made a chevalier of the Legion
of Honor, the king of Naples decorated him, and offers from managers
were numerous, including one from San Carlo, naming the sum (almost
preposterous for Italy) of nine thousand ducats for two operas, which was
more than rich Milan would promise.
But the composer's career was to be as brief as it had been splendid. He
had burned his candle at both ends. He had been unremitting in labor and
unrestrained in pleasure. His constitution, not too strong, had also been
shaken by the illness previously mentioned, symptoms of which reappeared
early in September. No effort which care, prudence, and ability could
make was spared; but on the 23d of that month, in the year 1835, he died,
being a little less than thirty-four years old.
Every tribute was paid to his name and memory. A commission, including
some of the greatest composers and vocalists, was appointed to arrange
his obsequies, which took place in the Chapel of the Invalides, Oct. 4.
The music was superb, and in spite of a furious rain, an immense crowd
attended the interment at Père-la-Chaise, where memorial addresses were
spoken by eminent men. Subscription raised a noble monument for him,
and regret and condolence were general in the musical world. Thirty
years later, the Catanians asked leave to remove his body, but it was
not until September, 1876, that they were ready. Then an Italian war
vessel received it, and on its arrival at Catania it was placed in
the very carriage which had borne Bellini on his triumphal return. The
commemoration lasted three days, and the coffin was finally deposited in
the Cathedral.
[Illustration: TOMB OF BELLINI IN THE CATHEDRAL AT CATANIA.]
Bellini was of an attractive, though not handsome, person, his face
lacking strength. He belonged to the blond Italian type, and his
portraits suggest almost any other European nationality as much as his
own; his figure was slender and elastic; his general effect was rather
that of an idealist than a practical man. His temper was generally even,
his love of humor and word-play easily stirred, and his movements easy
and elegant. He had his moods of despondency, and his friends remembered
after his death how some sombre incidents had apparently impressed him
gloomily in the last year of his life. His characteristics made him
especially welcome in female society, but it may be doubted whether any
woman ever really loved him well, or whether he was ever much attracted
by any after his unsuccessful affair at Naples. In his profession he made
friends always, and almost no enemies, for he neither felt nor provoked
comparisons or jealousies. The regard he inspired was well founded, and
the mourning his death caused was sincere.
* * * * *
The genius of Bellini was original and decided. Although he was
impressionable, he was independent, and this was the source of his
weakness as well as of his strength. For while not blind to the faults
and deficiencies of his compositions, he was so firm in his knowledge
of their peculiar merits that the criticisms he accepted as just could
not move him to alter his methods, so that, as has already been said,
his growth in art was rather a natural progression than the result of
cultivation.
He entered the Conservatory at a fortunate moment, and he fell into good
hands. From Tritto, Bellini got the conventional part of his education,
while from Zingarelli, who was both enthusiastic and classical, a noble
composer and a strong scientist, he received, on the one hand, sharp,
wholesome criticism, and on the other, an ardent impulse. Most of his
fellow-pupils were mediocrities, and none have been eminent except the
brothers Ricci, best known by their "Crispino e la Comare," and Carlo
Conti, whose many operas have had great currency in Italy.
The disposition of Bellini was primarily toward what could be musically
expressed by the human voice, and all who heard his compositions were
convinced that the world had received a rich new gift. Rossini was now
great in fame and influence, and the brilliant vocalists of the time
were revelling in his florid airs. Bellini, realizing that even the
theatre demanded melody more than anything else, and feeling sure that
a source of it was waking up within him, was either astute or ingenious
enough not to attempt to follow the example of Rossini. He gave his
melodies no less extension, but he first simplified them, and then
broadened and fortified them in some situations, while in others he
softened and sweetened them. He could not command pathos, profound grief,
terror, menace, or tragic grandeur. Sentiment, not emotion, was his
chief characteristic; but in "Norma" he rose to dignity and maintained
calmness, while in "I Puritani" he became noble and strenuous. In "Il
Pirata" and in "I Capuletti ed i Montecchi" there were not infrequently
boldness and vigor, as the excerpts which are still heard occasionally
show. In "Beatrice di Tenda" his weakest airs are found, and in "La
Sonnambula" his suavity, tenderness, and appealing purity are most felt.
He had a sufficient perception of character to distinguish his personages
in song, and he appreciated the capacity of each voice for which he
wrote, so that his music is singable by vocalists of moderate ability,
and yet is advantageous for consummate artists. The best of executants
will find scope in "La Sonnambula," while the dramatically strong can
have full range in "Norma" and "I Puritani." Yet his melodies sometimes
are almost mawkishly sweet, and his recitatives are generally fragmentary
and inexpressive, while it is only in the last two or three operas, and
in "I Puritani" especially, that the vocal harmony has much variety or
ingenuity. Oddly enough, while studied for human voices, many of his best
melodies flow as easily and effectively from instruments, especially
those of wood or brass, and the effect of the best of them depends mostly
upon the enthusiasm, the emphasis, or the _bel canto_ of the singers.
[Illustration]
The instrumental portions of his operas betray in every page his
ignorance, his weakness, and his indifference. His overtures are
generally such only in name, a superficial arrangement of two or three
principal themes, and his accompaniments rarely are more than bald and
formal supports to the voice. The same general manner pervades them; the
upper strings play broken arpeggios while the lower ones give a sustained
harmony, to which the wind instruments contribute some color of tone, but
which they seldom diversify with figure or comment of their own. It is to
be observed that the score of "I Puritani," written under the influence
of music in Paris, is richer and more expressive than any which preceded
it, and gave the promise which was never to be fulfilled.
Bellini had the advantage of early acceptance in theatres difficult of
access, of the friendship of great contemporary musicians, handsome
pecuniary emolument, and the co-operation of some of the greatest
vocalists the world has known.
[Illustration: H. M. Ticknor]
[Illustration: Music. Billini]
[Illustration: GAETANO DONIZETTI
_Reproduction of a lithograph portrait by V. Roscioni of Vincenzo._]
[Illustration]
GAETANO DONIZETTI
Genius is no less remarkable for the manner of its appearance in the
world than for the subsequent manifestations of the power. At times it
seems to be the natural result of a cumulation of influences, and yet
again it can be traced to no source or cause. Bellini descended from
at least two generations of musicians; but his contemporary, Gaetano
Donizetti, the subject of this sketch, had no family prototype and left
no heritage in art to any child.
His father, Andrea Donizetti, is not known to have been born in Bergamo,
but in that small city of North Italy he was occupied at first as a
weaver. Desirous of bettering himself sufficiently to marry Domenica
Nava, he obtained a modest position in the local _Monte di Pietà_,
settled down to his routine employment and became the father of four
sons. One of these, Gaetano,--born November 29, 1797,--was so bright,
so alert and so evidently talented that the father began to hope and
plan that he might be able to educate him for a lawyer, so that his
professional position might give the family a higher social standing and
perhaps add something to its narrow income. But so soon as the child
was far enough advanced beyond elementary studies to have intelligent
preferences, he began to show a predilection for the arts, which was
so far indulged as to allow him to study drawing, architecture and
literature. This did not satisfy the boy's cravings, however, and he
plucked up courage to ask his father to have him taught music. He was so
earnest and so confident that, in spite of the disappointment which this
strong disposition caused, his father consented and cast about him to see
how he could best provide the instruction.
The conditions could not have been more propitious. There had come
to Bergamo in 1788 a young Bavarian named Johann Simon Mayer, for
the purpose of studying music under the eminent guidance of Lenzi
and Bertoni. When his own studies were completed he opened a school
for twelve pupils, eight of whom were to be trained as sopranos and
contraltos, to replace in the churches the men who had sung those
parts hitherto, while the other four were to be taught the violin and
the violoncello. All were obliged to study harmony and the art of
accompanying, other capable teachers--among them Capuzzi, who had learned
the violin under the famous Tartini--adding their instruction to Mayer's.
Into this little conservatory Donizetti entered in 1806. He was so
fortunate as to enlist at once the interest of Mayer, who was already
beginning to get a European fame because of his wisdom, solidity and
learning. The lad's talent seemed so remarkable, his elasticity of
disposition and his earnest determination so unusual for his years, that
the master took special pains in developing him. Even at this early
age, Donizetti showed marked imitative and dramatic ability, and such
clearness of insight and exposition as made him at once an example and an
aid to his slower or duller companions. By the time he was ten years old
he had advanced so much in the right direction as to have made his mark
in solo contralto music and to be appointed _repetitore_--or preparatory
teacher--in the classes both of singing and of the violin, as well as to
be taken by Mayer as his special pupil in harmony.
Naturally enough, the boy tried his hand at composition, but his master
wisely made no account of these efforts until they had brought forth
something really commendable for its ideas and their treatment. All the
while new branches of study were suggested, in all of which Donizetti
made commendable progress, learning to appreciate the classic masters
of Italy and Germany, to play passing well upon the pianoforte, the
organ, the flute and the double-bass, beside making constant progress
as a singer, although it is said that his exactitude and grace
were more noticeable than any fulness or strength of tone. Besides
those professional studies, he was taught history, mythology, Latin
and rhetoric, so that when in time he devoted himself to theatrical
composition, he was well equipped. His special bent was shown, not only
in his arranging a little stage for juvenile performances in which his
part was always well done, but also in his attempting a tenor part in a
real theatre; but failing in this, he gave up any hopes of becoming a
professional vocalist and decided to devote himself to composition.
[Illustration: CARICATURE OF DONIZETTI.
From the Paris "Panthéon Charivarique."]
By 1815 Mayer concluded that Donizetti ought to have other training
than Bergamo could give and therefore sent him to Bologna, a city still
prominent for its understanding and love of the arts, in order that
he might study fugue and counterpoint under Mattei, who had recently
brought out Rossini and other worthy pupils and could strengthen this
youth where he was weak. Thither Donizetti went, furnished with letters
and introductions, one of the most profitable of which was to Giovanni
Ricordi of Milan, founder of the famous music-publishing house of that
name.