COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE, AND FIRST OPERATIC SUCCESS
Verdi is engaged to Margarita Barezzi--His marriage--Seeks a wider field
in Milan--An emergency conductor--Conductor of the Milan Philharmonic
Society--His first opera, _Oberto, Conte di San Bonifacio_--Terms for
production--Its success--A triple commission--A woman's
sacrifice--Clouds--Death of his wife and children--_Un Giorno di
Regno_ produced--A failure--Verdi disgusted with music--Destroys
Merelli contract--The _Nabucco_ libretto forced on Verdi--Induced to
set the book--Production of _Nabucco_ with success--Opposition from
the critics--Mr. Lumley gives _Nabucco_ in London--Its performance
and reception.
When Verdi took the office stool in Barezzi's counting-house, there
was little reason to suppose that he would get much beyond it; but he
was to become something more than an _employé_. He was often invited
to join the family circle, and so became acquainted with the eldest
daughter, Margarita--a girl of beautiful disposition, with whom Verdi
fell violently in love. The young lady returned his affection, and
Signor Barezzi, with his usual kindly feeling towards Verdi, not
opposing the engagement--albeit Verdi was extremely poor--the young
people were married in 1836. Upon this occasion all Busseto turned out
_en fête_.
Now had Verdi every incentive to work, for his young wife bore him a
son and a daughter within two years of their marriage, and he longed
for an operatic success that would add to his slender income. The
prospect of a large family, and no means to support it with, was a
painful piece of mathematics, the solution of which depended entirely
upon himself. Alas! could he but have foreseen his almost immediate
release from such love chains!
While thus musing, the fire kindled. Verdi made up his mind to
relinquish working in Busseto and try his fortune in Milan.
Accordingly, in 1838, he, with his wife and children, set out for that
musical centre, carrying their belongings with them, and with his
stock-in-trade--a score of a musical melodrama entitled _Oberto, Conte
di S. Bonifacio_--under his arm. This composition was his first attempt
at a complete opera. Every pain had been taken with the score; and not
only was each note Verdi's own, but the full score, and all the vocal
and instrumental parts, had been copied out with his own hand. What
labour! and yet the hard (we might say thick) headed man rejoices in
the belief that musicians, big and little, are a lazy lot!
None too speedily, an opening presented itself at the Milan
Philharmonic Society. Haydn's _Creation_ was to be given, and the
conductor had failed to put in an appearance. Suddenly Verdi was
espied, whereupon Masini, a director, approached and begged him to
take the conductorship that evening. In those days conducting was
managed, not with a _bâton_ and a rostrum, but from the pianoforte
in the orchestra, and Masini considerately informed Verdi that if he
would play the bass part merely, even that would be sufficient! Verdi
acquiesced, and, amid starings and titterings, made for the conductor's
seat and score. "I shall never forget," Verdi has said, "the sort
of sarcastic approval that crossed the faces of the knowing ones.
My young, thin, and shabbily-attired person was little calculated,
perhaps, to inspire confidence." Yet Verdi astonished everybody. He
gave not only the bass line, but the whole of the pianoforte part,
bringing the performance to a successful termination. Not from that
night need he have been without an appointment as a musical conductor;
indeed, it was shortly afterwards that the conductorship of the Milan
Philharmonic Society was offered to, and accepted by Verdi.
Possessed almost by the demon of the stage, Verdi sorely wanted a
trial for his opera. To obtain a first hearing then, however, meant
the surmounting of considerable obstacles. The avenues of art were
not open as they now are--when a season is made up almost wholly of
"first nights," and when wealthy or well-backed aspirants can have,
not only their own theatres, but their own critics, and even their own
newspapers and audiences. Such is money! Eventually Verdi got what
he wanted. _Oberto, Conte di S. Bonifacio_ was to be produced at La
Scala theatre in the spring of 1839; but even this arrangement was put
off because a singer fell ill. Sick at heart, Verdi was retreating to
Busseto, when the _impresario_ of La Scala sent for him unexpectedly.
Signor Bartolomeo Merelli had heard from the singers who had been
studying _Oberto_ respecting the uncommon quality of its music, and
the opinions of the vocalists Signora Strepponi and Signor Ronconi
were not to be lightly regarded. The outcome of the interview was an
agreement by which Verdi's opera was to be put upon the stage during
the next season at Merelli's expense--Verdi in the meanwhile making
certain alterations in the score, chiefly because of a change of
artists from those for whom it was originally written. Merelli was to
divide with Verdi any sum for which the score might be sold, in the
event of the opera proving a success. He jumped at the offer, for in
those days the fashion was for _impresarii_ to demand, and to receive,
large sums from unknown composers wishing to have their operas brought
forward. _Tempora mutantur._ Nowadays the difficulty with managers is
to find the talent! _Oberto_ was duly produced on the 17th November
1839, the principal singers being Mesdames Raineri-Marini, and Alfred
Shaw, while Signori Salvi and Marini filled the tenor and bass parts
respectively. The opera saw several representations, and a further
proof of its merit is seen in the fact that music-publisher Ricordi
gave Verdi two thousand Austrian liri, or about £70 sterling, for the
copyright of the work.
Verdi's next experience was a commission. Shortly after the production
of _Oberto_, _impresario_ Merelli, who "ran" the Milan and Vienna
opera-houses, approached Verdi respecting the composition of three
operas--one every eight months, for the sum of £134 for each opera,
with an equal division of any amount arising from the sale of the
copyrights.
This contract came opportunely, for Verdi was on the verge of appealing
to his father-in-law for a £10 loan wherewith to pay rent overdue for
his modest apartment. Now, Merelli was asked to make an advance, "on
account," but he would not. Weak and dispirited after a long illness,
Verdi was greatly distressed at the thought of failing to meet his
rent. Here, however, came man's blessed balm when desperate moments
face him--in the womanly unselfishness of a brave wife. Seeing her
husband's anxiety, Signora Verdi collected her trinkets, went out and
raised money upon them, bringing it all to Verdi. "How she managed it,"
related Verdi afterwards, "I know not; but such an act of affection
went to my heart. I resolved not to rest until I had got back every
article, and restored it to the dear one."
Cloud and sunshine, these are the alternating portions of the mortal's
lot. No sooner did Verdi begin to feel easier at the prospect of
earning some four hundred pounds by these three operas than his home
was suddenly darkened. With the swiftness of a rushing avalanche all
that was brightest in his home was swept away. Ere he could realise
it, he had lost his wife, son, and daughter. Verdi tells the terrible
story as only the sufferer himself can. "My bambino (little boy) fell
ill early in April (1840), and the doctors failing to discover the
mischief, the poor little fellow got weaker and weaker, and passed away
finally in the arms of his mother. She was heart-broken. Immediately
our little daughter was seized with an illness which also terminated
fatally. This was not all. At the beginning of June my dear wife was
cast down with brain fever, until, on the 19th, a third corpse was
borne from my house. Alone! alone! In a little over two months three
coffins, all that I loved and cherished most on earth, were taken from
me. I had no longer a family!"
Here was room for grief. What a situation for one tied by an agreement
to compose a comic opera, the score of which was already overdue! It
was impossible. Yet bills were flowing in, and to meet these Verdi
must, despite all terrible anguish, fulfil his engagement. He did.
Among the libretti which Merelli had submitted was one renamed _Un
Giorno di Regno_. This Verdi set to music. It was produced at La Scala
Theatre on the 5th September following his wife's death, and was a
failure. No wonder that Verdi desponded, and begged of Merelli that
he would cancel the agreement, which he did, tearing the document
to pieces. Verdi's resolute intention was never to compose another
note! Ah! By some force of fate Verdi, many weeks afterwards, quite
by accident, stumbled across Merelli, and although the composer was
still obdurate, ere the two parted a libretto by Solera was forced into
Verdi's coat-pocket, upon the chance, as Merelli put it, of his looking
at and being tempted to set the book.
Strange to say, this "Nebuchadnezzar" libretto took hold of Verdi.
Arriving home, the composer tossed the manuscript on to the table. It
opened of itself at a truly felicitous passage, "Fly, O thought, on
golden wings," which so interested Verdi that he read on. Finally,
the whole poem was in his mind, and so disturbed his rest that he
determined to return the book next day to Merelli. The _impresario_
would not have it, and told him to take the libretto away and keep it
until he could find the will to set it.
_Nabucco_ was replete with beautiful passages, which, one by one,
were set by Verdi, until, in the autumn of 1841, the entire opera was
finished. Two stipulations Verdi now insisted upon. Signora Strepponi
and Signor Ronconi were to sing in _Nabucco_, and the work was to be
produced during the Carnival time. Merelli declared he could not manage
the scenery in the time; but Verdi would not hear of waiting for new
scenery, and consenting to risk the production with whatever chance
canvas the resources of the theatre supplied, _Nabucco_ found its way
into La Scala bills for the 1842 season.
The opera was given on 9th March, and both Signora Strepponi and Signor
Ronconi sang in it.
"With this score," subsequently related Verdi to Signor Giulio Ricordi,
"my musical career really began. With all impediments and difficulties
_Nabucco_ was undoubtedly born under a lucky star. All that might have
been against it proved in its favour. It is a wonder that Merelli did
not send me and my opera to the devil, after the furious letter which
I sent him. The second-hand costumes, made to look equal to new, were
splendid, while the old scenery, renovated by Perrani, might have been
painted for the occasion."
_Nabucco_ took everybody by surprise. It was a species of melodic vein
and choral combination that the Milanese dilettanti had never before
heard; such instrumentation, too; such novel and impressive effects
were not within the memory of the oldest _habitué_ of La Scala. The
Italians could not resist its peculiar "carrying-along" power. The work
was unanimously declared the true ideal of what a tragic musical drama
should be. Little wonder that during its rehearsals the workmen stopped
to listen to the music of the new piece. Many years afterwards, in his
success, Verdi referred to this incident in sympathetic words:----
"Ah!" said Verdi, "the people have always been my best friends, from
the very beginning. It was a handful of carpenters who gave me my first
real assurance of success."
I scented a story, and asked for details.
"It was after I had dragged on in poverty and disappointment for a
long time in Busseto, and had been laughed at by all the publishers,
and shown to the door by all the impresarios. I had lost all real
confidence and courage, but through sheer obstinacy I succeeded in
getting commonly contracted in Italy--rehearsed at the Scala in Milan.
The artistes were singing as badly as they knew how, and the orchestra
seemed bent only on drowning the noise of the workmen who were busy
making alterations in the building. Presently the chorus began to sing,
as carelessly as before, the '_Va, pensiero_,' but before they had got
through half a dozen bars the theatre was as still as a church. The
men had left off their work one by one, and there they were sitting
about on the ladders and scaffolding, listening! When the number was
finished, they broke out into the noisiest applause I have ever heard,
crying '_Bravo, bravo, viva il maestro!_' and beating on the woodwork
with their tools. Then I knew what the future had in store for me."[4]
Some idea of the novel character of the _Nabucco_ music may be gathered
from the discovery that the usual chorus of La Scala was adjudged
too small to give effect to it. Merelli, apprised of this, would not
hear of increasing the staff because of the expense. Then a friend
volunteered the extra cost. "No, no!" thundered in Verdi. "The chorus
_must_ be increased. It is indispensable. I will pay the extra singers
myself." And he did! The success of _Nabucco_ was remarkable. No such
"first night" had marked La Scala for many years, the occupants of the
stalls and pit rising to their feet out of sheer enthusiasm when they
first heard the music. "I hoped for a success," said Verdi; "but such a
success--never!"
The next day all Italy talked of Verdi. Donizetti, whose melodious
wealth had swayed the Italians, as it subsequently did the English, was
among the astonished ones. He had deferred a journey in order to hear
_Nabucco_, and was so impressed by it, that nought but the expressions;
"It's fine! Uncommonly fine!" could be heard escaping his lips. With
_Nabucco_ the impressionable Italians were agreeably warned that a
master-mind was amongst them.
Verdi sold the score of _Nabucco_ to Ricordi for 3000 Austrian liri, or
£102, of which, by the terms of the contract, Merelli the _impresario_
was to share one half. He generously returned Verdi 1000 liri.
In the year 1846 _Nabucco_ was brought to London. Mr. Benjamin Lumley
elected to open the season with it. Her Majesty's theatre had been
newly painted and embellished, and all London was on the tiptoe of
excitement at the prospect of the inauguration of the new _salle_. No
more striking novelty than _Nabucco_ could have been selected, perhaps,
since the work had already become popular on the Continent, and had
in some places created a _furore_. The English public, it should be
stated, already knew Verdi through _Ernani_, which opera, as the
reader will learn later on, had been performed in London the previous
year, and had startled the susceptibilities of our critics. The object
in presenting this _Nabucco_ by Verdi was to afford the public an
opportunity of a further judgment upon the ear-arresting composer
of _Ernani_. In obedience to a prevalent sentiment precluding the
slightest connection of a Biblical subject with stage representation,
_Nabucco_ had to be rechristened. It received the _alias_ "_Nino, Re
d'Assyria_," and was brought forward.
[Illustration: Margherita Barezzi]
"In a popular sense," writes Mr. Lumley, "the opera was a decided
success; the choral melodies especially suiting the public taste.
The libretto, although faulty in many respects, was dramatic, and
afforded scope for fine acting and artistic emotion. _Nabucco_, in
short, floated on the sea of the Anglo-Italian stage where, whilst one
current was always rushing towards novelty, another tended to wreck all
novelty whatever, in the interests of so-called 'classicism.' Much had
been done to place the opera with splendour on the stage, but though
it pleased on the whole, no decided success attended the venture of
the two new ladies. Sanchioli, wild, vehement, and somewhat coarse,
attracted and excited by her 'power, spirit, and fire,' but she failed
to charm. As a 'declaiming, passionate vocalist' she created an effect;
but the very qualities which had rendered her so popular with an
Italian audience, acted somewhat repulsively upon English opera-goers.
The lack of refinement in her style was not, in their eyes, redeemed by
the merit of energy. The electric impulse that communicated itself to
the Italians, fell comparatively powerless on the British temperament.
Sanchioli, however, was in many respects the 'right woman in the
right place' in this melodramatic opera. The other lady, Mademoiselle
Corbari, though destined in after times to please greatly as an
_altra-prima_ on the Anglo-Italian stage, and though she was considered
from the first charming, even 'fascinating' in her simplicity and
grace, was not yet acknowledged as a leading vocalist. The nervousness
and inexperience of a novice, which she showed at that stage of her
career, somewhat lessened the success due to a sweet voice and feeling
style, though the prayer allotted to her character Fenena, was encored
nightly. Fornasari pleased those who remained of his old enthusiastic
admirers, by his emphatic dramatic action and vigorous declamation, and
thus far worked towards the success of Verdi's opera."[5]
The libretto of _Nino_ or _Nabucco_ is based upon the history of the
Assyrians and Babylonians at the epoch when these two nations were
distinct. Ninus, the son of Belus, the first Assyrian monarch, is
engaged in exterminating the Babylonians. He profanes their temple,
insults their faith, and finally falls a victim to the vengeance of
Isis. He goes mad. His supposed daughter, Abigail, obtains possession
of the kingdom, to the exclusion of his lawful heiress, Fenena, who
is about to be sacrificed with the Babylonians, whose faith she has
embraced, when Ninus, repenting of his evil deeds, recovers his reason
in time to save her from death, and the drama winds up with the
submission of the proud monarch and his whole court to Isis.
"This opera," wrote a capable critic at the time, "the first by which
the young composer achieved his exalted reputation, and which has
been received abroad with enthusiasm, is a most remarkable work. It
is characterised by merits of the highest order. This is shown in
the splendid finale of the first act, commencing with the charming
_terzettino_ which has been for some time already a favourite with
English dilettanti; the canon preceding the punishment of Nino, in
the second act; the duet '_Oh! di qual onta_' between the latter and
Abigail in the third act, in which the voices are made to combine in
the most exquisite manner; the charming chorus, '_Va, pensiero_,'
flowing and plaintive; and the final prayer '_Terribil Iside_,' sung
without instrumental accompaniment. These _morceaux_ require to be
studied in detail for their beauties to be fully appreciated; but
they nevertheless produce, at first hearing, an effect which pieces
abounding, as they do, in imagination and remarkable excellence
of construction, do not always obtain. They are more highly
characteristic. The opening chorus, '_Gli arredi festivi giu cadono
infranti_,' is severe and characteristic, and altogether peculiar in
its construction. The first aria of Orotaspe is very remarkable in
point of composition. The first part of the solo of Abigail, which is
much admired, did not produce at first hearing any deep impression
on ourselves; the second part is very good, and characteristic of
the vengeful Amazon. The prayer for soprano at the end of the opera,
'_Oh, dischinso e il firmamento_,' is a charming little bit of melody.
In fine, in the music of the opera the composer has shown himself
possessed of all the legitimate sources of success. It bears the stamp
of genius and deep thought, and its effect upon the public proved that
its merits were appreciated."[6]
This favourable view, however, was far from being endorsed by all the
leading critics--inasmuch as it was with _Nino_ that Verdi experienced
more of his early and remarkable castigations in the English press.
Henry Fothergill Chorley, English musician, art critic, novelist, verse
writer, journalist, dramatist, general writer, traveller, etc., was
musical critic of the _Athenæum_ from 1833 to 1871, a period which
covers Verdi's career down to the production of _Aïda_, and it is fair
to assume, therefore, that the contributions, signed and unsigned,
which appeared in the _Athenæum_ were the views and expressions of
that gentleman--deceased. James William Davison, English composer
and writer (1813-1885), was musical critic of _The Times_ to the day
of his death, so that that gentleman, also deceased, may be credited
with the emanations respecting Verdi and his doings which appeared in
its columns. Now, when _Nabucco_, in its Anglicised form as _Nino_,
was produced here, the former critic wrote: "Our first hearing of the
_Nino_ has done nothing to change our judgment of the limited nature of
Signor Verdi's resources.... Signor Verdi is 'nothing if not noisy,'
and by perpetually putting his energies in one and the same direction,
tempts us, out of contradiction, to long for the sweetest piece of
sickliness which Paisiello put forth.... He has hitherto shown no power
as a melodist. Neither in _Ernani_ nor in _I Lombardi_, nor in the work
introduced on Tuesday (_Nino_) is there a single air of which the ear
will not lose hold.... The composer's music becomes almost intolerable
owing to his immoderate employment of brass instruments, which, to
be in any respect sufferable, calls for great compensating force
and richness in the stringed quartette.... How long Signor Verdi's
reputation will last seems to us very questionable."[7] Of these
remarks we would say that Verdi and his reputation both live to-day!
It need hardly be pointed out that the critical faculty in its
perspicacity and highest degree are wholly wanting in this criticism.
Verdi has shown himself to be a born melodist; his reputation for
his melodies has been great and world-wide, even those of such early
operas as _Ernani_ and _I Lombardi_ are still with us--to wit, that
lovely excerpt "_Come poteva un angelo_" from the latter work; while
the orchestral excessiveness charged to him, thus early, was just the
thing for which thirty years later, when _Aïda_ was produced, he was
by many musical minds declared to be indebted to Wagner, and abused
consequently.
_The Times_ criticism on _Nino_ was less despairing. "The melodies"
(we were told) "are not remarkable, but the rich instrumentation,
and the effective massing of the voices do not fail to produce their
impression, and a 'run' for some time may be confidently predicted."[8]
Mr. Lumley revived _Nino_ (_Nabucco_) towards the close of his
memorable and vicissitudinous management. It was during the 1857
season. Mademoiselle Spezia made a decided mark in the part of Abigail,
but the object of interest was Signor Corsi, who made his _début_ on
the occasion.
"This celebrated singer," Mr. Lumley informs us, "had acquired so high
a reputation in Italy as the legitimate successor to Georgio Ronconi,
in the execution of lyrical parts of dramatic power, that the liveliest
curiosity was excited by his first appearance."[9] Signor Corsi failed,
however, to establish his claim to public favour either as a singer or
actor. Curiously enough, this same season witnessed the production of
the work under the name of _Anato_ by the rival London opera company,
under Mr. Gye, at the Lyceum Theatre.
Nowadays we hear little of _Nabucco_. The world can well afford to go
on with one opera the less, even though it be a good one; but fifty
years have worked a vast change in operatic values, and, although
the revival of _Nabucco_ might not be called for now, it must not be
forgotten that, when it first appeared, it was, as an able critic has
put it, "almost the only specimen the operatic stage has of late years
furnished of a true ideal of the tragic drama."[10]
Much that _Nabucco_ contained demonstrated the fully-trained composer,
the scientific musician, and the able contrapuntist. The splendid
chorus "_Gli arredi festivi_," sung by all the voices, and taken up
by the basses alone; the charming chorus of virgins, "_Gran Nume_,"
beginning _pianissimo_ and swelling up to a glorious burst of harmony;
and the grand crescendo chorus _Deh! l'empri_, these manifested
indisputable originality and learning. Other notable numbers proved
to be the chorus "_Lo vedesti_," and the "_Il maledetto non ha
fratelli_" movement; while the _canone_ for five voices, "_Suppressau
gi'istanti_," the _scena_, "_O mia figlia_" (which Fornasari was wont
to render so feelingly), and the duet "_Oh di qual onta aggravesi_,"
are remarkable examples of characteristic musical composition, sure
indications of greater artistic triumphs by their author. Among the
many orchestral points of _Nabucco_, the harp accompaniment in the
Virgins' chorus, and the employment of the brass instruments in the
great crescendos are particularly novel and effective. Little wonder
that such a work struck the keynote to Verdi's future greatness.
[Footnote 4: Dr. Villiers Stanford in _The Daily Graphic_, 14th January
1893.]
[Footnote 5: _Reminiscences of the Opera_, p. 145 (Lumley).]
[Footnote 6: _Illustrated London News_, 14th March 1846.]
[Footnote 7: _Athenæum_, 7th March 1846.]
[Footnote 8: _The Times_, 4th March 1846.]
[Footnote 9: _Reminiscences of the Opera_, p. 416.]
[Footnote 10: _Musical Recollections of the last Half-Century_ (1850
Season), May 31.]