=Later Italian School=.—While Meyerbeer was dominating the French stage
and through it exerting a powerful influence on serious opera in all
countries, the Italian school was recovering in part from the impulse
given it by Rossini. The highly ornamented style which he brought into
vogue was modified in the works of several composers who also gave
more consideration to truth of expression. With these, melody still
reigned supreme, but it was shorn of the excessive ornamentation which
overloaded Rossini’s music; in character and rhythm it was also more
generally in accord with sentiment and situation. The florid element
was by no means suppressed; it had been an integral factor in Italian
music for two centuries and was too strongly entrenched in public favor
to be banished so completely as it had been in the German romantic
opera, but it was kept in subordination and in the main not allowed to
dictate the melodic idea. This was a step in advance for the Italian
school of that period, which through the fluent warblings of Rossini
and his imitators, had approached dangerously near the Scarlatti-Handel
type of the previous century.
=Donizetti=.—This reaction in the direction of greater simplicity
and sincerity was led by =Gaetano Donizetti= (1797-1848). At first a
follower of Rossini, he only attained success after the latter had
ceased composing and he himself had acquired a style of his own.
Donizetti was not without innate force, but his great melodic facility
led him to rely upon melody rather than upon musical development
or dramatic characterization. Hence his tragic operas, though
often admirable in detail, lack the sustained strength demanded by
their subjects. Of these, _Lucia_ (founded upon Scott’s “Bride of
Lammermoor”) achieved the greatest popularity, while in _La Favorita_
(composed for the Grand Opéra) he shows more dramatic power than in any
of his more than three-score operas. In many of his lighter works he
is particularly happy; for example, in _Don Pasquale_, which compares
favorably with Rossini’s _Il Barbiere_, and in _L’Elisire d’Amore_
(The Elixir of Love). _La Fille du Régiment_ (The Daughter of the
Regiment—written for the Opéra Comique) has made the tour of the world.
=Bellini=.—His younger contemporary, =Vincenzo Bellini= (1801-1835),
on the contrary, displays no capacity for humor nor is he much better
fitted to cope with the somber or the heroic. Essentially a lyrical
temperament, neither broad nor deep but endowed with exquisite
sensibility within certain limits, his sphere is the emotional, the
tender and the elegiac. For this reason his charming opera, _La
Sonnambula_ (The Somnambulist), on account of its idyllic subject, is a
more representative work than _Norma_ or _I Puritani_ (The Puritans),
though both enjoyed high popularity until within recent years. Much of
Bellini’s vogue was due to the admirable singing of a number of Italian
artists who were identified with his works—Pasta, Grisi, sopranos;
Mario, tenor; Tamburini, baritone; Lablache, basso, not to forget
Jenny Lind, who was at her best in his operas. With their passing and
the establishment of the modern school of dramatic composition, in
which the voice is only one of many factors instead of being the chief
element of expression, they have gradually dropped from the repertory.
=Verdi=.—A far more significant personality than either Donizetti
or Bellini is =Giuseppe Verdi= (1813-1901). Not merely a melodist
but a dramatist as well, his long life gave him the opportunity of
profiting by the many influences which brought about the mighty musical
development of the last hundred years. The fact that he did so without
compromising his artistic or national individuality shows the inherent
genius which gives to him the distinction of being the great Italian
composer of the century. Strong and sturdy from the first, his early
works, if somewhat coarse in fiber, seemed doubly powerful in contrast
with those of his contemporaries, which were distinguished by sweetness
and melody rather than by depth or vigor. From _Ernani_ to _Rigoletto_,
from the much sung _Trovatore_ to _Don Carlos_, to mention only a few
of his thirty operas, Verdi shows a steady growth in largeness of
style and command of means which culminated in _Aïda_, written for the
Khedive of Egypt to celebrate the opening of the Suez canal in 1871.
[Illustration: GIUSEPPE VERDI.]
=Aïda=.—_Aïda_ is the full fruition of the Romantic movement beyond the
Alps, manifested, however, in a style and manner thoroughly Italian.
Unmistakably influenced by the uncompromising stand taken in Germany
by Wagner, Verdi here shows the definite adoption of a new standard,
yet by methods which make no decided break with what he had hitherto
accomplished. In form, _Aïda_ is closely allied to the Meyerbeer type
of Grand Opéra through its succession of dramatic and spectacular
features, but these develop naturally in the course of the action
and are combined with a sincerity and unity of effect lacking in the
more artificial creations of the German composer. The florid style
is strictly avoided; without the continuous flow of the music drama,
the different movements, recitatives, arias, ensembles, etc., are yet
more closely connected and are sustained by a richer, more fluent
orchestration than he had hitherto given to his operas, the local color
called for by the Egyptian theme receiving adequate consideration.
=Significance of Aïda=.—_Aïda_ marks the beginning of the new Italian
school, one more in sympathy with the original conception of the opera
as a drama, while retaining the characteristic Italian grace and
charm of vocal treatment. This school was still further enlarged and
developed by Verdi, but this extension belongs to a later period and
will be considered in its logical connection.
=Wagner and the Music Drama=.—It is to =Richard Wagner= (1813-1883)
that we owe the renaissance in modern form of the primitive ideal of
the opera as embodied in the works of Peri and Caccini. Simple and
formless as these now appear, they contain the germ of all that he
has accomplished, apart from the question of means, even to the very
name of music drama. This he revived because, in his opinion, the term
opera had acquired a preponderantly musical signification which made it
inappropriate for his later works in view of their dramatic character.
An exception to the general rule of precocity among musicians, it was
not until his sixteenth year that he resolved to devote himself to
music. Like Weber, whom as a child he saw frequently and regarded with
the utmost reverence, his early associations were with the theatre and
the drama, a fact of no small significance in the careers of both. _Der
Freischütz_ was his favorite opera, a liking which bore abundant fruit
in later years.
[Illustration: WAGNER IN 1853.]
=His Early Operas=.—The future master of the music drama, however,
began by composing operas—operas, moreover, in which he shows
originality in one feature only—that of writing their texts himself,
and this remained his invariable practice. In other respects they gave
no hint of the startling individuality he was to unfold so unexpectedly
in his _Flying Dutchman_. His first opera was _Die Feen_ (The Fairies).
It was based on a fairy tale of but slight worth, and the music was
strongly reminiscent of Weber and Marschner. As the work of a youth
of twenty, without reputation or influence, it is hardly surprising
that he found no manager willing to produce it. He was somewhat more
fortunate with his second opera, _Das Liebesverbot_ (The Love Veto), an
adaptation of Shakespeare’s “Measure for Measure.” This was performed
once, in 1836, at Magdeburg, where he was director of the opera, and
had thus come under the influence of the French and Italian composers
then popular in Germany. The music is such a palpable imitation of
Adam, Auber, Donizetti, and Bellini that it has never been given since.
_Die Feen_ was never produced during his lifetime, but a few years
after his death received a number of representations in Munich.
=His Sojourn in Paris=.—In 1839, he determined to go to Paris. Many
foreign composers had succeeded in entering the Grand Opéra, among
them Meyerbeer, then in the full flush of the renown he had gained
with _Les Huguenots_. What one German had done, another might attempt.
Accordingly, with the utmost faith in his star and amid manifold
discouragements, Wagner made his way to the French capital, where he
hoped through the influence of Meyerbeer to secure the acceptance of
his _Rienzi_ at the Grand Opéra. He had prepared it from Bulwer’s
novel of the same name with the express intention of utilizing it as a
framework for the large spectacular style demanded by the Académie de
Musique. His sojourn in Paris brought him nothing but disappointment.
Neither _Rienzi_ nor _Der Fliegende Holländer_ (The Flying Dutchman),
which he wrote during his stay of two and a half years, was successful
in winning a hearing, while he lived the greater part of the time in
the most painfully straitened circumstances.
=Rienzi=.—Before long, he realized the hopelessness of his endeavor
and sent _Rienzi_ to Dresden, where it was accepted and after a long
delay performed in 1842. The result was a triumphant success and led
to the speedy production of _The Flying Dutchman_. This, however, by
no means made a similar impression. _Rienzi_ was an opera of the type
made familiar by Meyerbeer, in which effect was secured by the heaping
together of every device known to stagecraft. The ballet, the march of
the Messengers of Peace, the final catastrophe of the burning of Rome,
had as much to do with its enthusiastic reception as the music, which
was noisy, showy and brilliant, as befitted a work of such calibre.
=The Flying Dutchman. Change of Style=.—_The Flying Dutchman_, however,
showed Wagner in an entirely different light. With it, instead of
receiving his inspiration from without, as had been the case with
the preceding operas, it came from within. On his way to Paris he
had made a stormy voyage of several weeks from a port on the Baltic
to London. He was familiar with the myth of the Flying Dutchman, and
found that the sailors on board his ship believed it implicitly. This
in connection with Heine’s version of the legend, which represents the
unhappy mariner as doomed to perpetual wandering on stormy seas until
he finds a woman faithful unto death, made a strong impression on him,
and while in Paris he wrote the poem and composed the music within
seven weeks after finishing _Rienzi_. A more sudden metamorphosis of
style is unknown in the history of music. The earlier work was an opera
pure and simple, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, characterized
by pomp, brilliancy, sonority. Its successor was conceived as a
drama in which music served to emphasize the action and to intensify
the emotional situations; instead of being master, it was servant;
external effects were disregarded save only as they were in harmony
with this conception. Not that the composer entirely achieved this
ideal; _The Flying Dutchman_ displays not a few lapses into operatic
conventionalities, but as a whole it was a startling and radical change
which puzzled and displeased the public. They had looked for something
in the style of _Rienzi_ and could make nothing of a work so contrary
to the popular idea of what an opera should be. Accordingly, after a
few performances, it was dropped from the repertory.
=Tannhäuser=.—Nothing daunted by the lack of favor shown his change of
style, Wagner carried it to a still greater extent in his next opera,
_Tannhäuser_ (1845), founded on a medieval legend. The dramatic motive
of this is much the same as that of _The Flying Dutchman_, one of which
Wagner was particularly fond—the power of love to redeem and save from
the consequences of sin and error. _Tannhäuser_ brought about his head
the full storm of hostile criticism which with _The Flying Dutchman_
had only begun to lower. He was reproached for its difficulty, for
its lack of pleasing melodies, for the audacious harmonies which many
critics considered inexcusable dissonances. Singers objected to the
broad declamation it required; they complained that it would eventually
ruin their voices.
=Lohengrin=.—This almost general dissatisfaction, however, led to no
concessions by the composer in his next opera, _Lohengrin_, which
marked a further advance in the unpopular direction taken by its
predecessors, but it interfered with its performance. Though he was
conductor of the Opéra at Dresden, he could not secure permission to
produce it. Baffled and discouraged in his artistic schemes, a radical
in politics, he joined the insurrectionists during the revolution of
1849. The failure of the rebellion necessitated a hasty flight from
Germany. He took refuge in Switzerland and remained in exile until a
proclamation of amnesty in 1861 allowed him to return. In the meantime
he had sent the score of _Lohengrin_ to Liszt, then conductor of the
opera at Weimar, and there it was brought out in 1850.
_Lohengrin_ proved the turning-point in his fortunes. The romance of
the subject, its dramatic treatment and undeniable beauty gradually
reconciled the public to the novelty of its style. Before Wagner was
relieved from his sentence of banishment it had become one of the most
popular operas in Germany—he once ruefully remarked that he would soon
be the only German who had not heard it.