=Musical Decadence=.—When a nation clings to its own musical ideas, and
persistently disregards the growth and progress of other nations, it
usually enters upon a period of decay. This is what took place in Italy
during the 19th century, and the country that produced Palestrina and
the Scarlattis seemed for a time to understand nothing but the trivial
operatic melodies of Rossini’s successors. In 1850, there were scarcely
any concert halls in the country, and even the churches were content
with operatic airs set to sacred words. Soon after this, Pinelli tried
to give an orchestral concert, with sixty musicians; and the box-office
receipts left only fourteen francs with which to pay them. Sgambati
produced a Beethoven symphony, but had to do it at his own expense.
As late as 1879, Saint-Saëns, who gave an organ recital at Milan,
found the organ scarcely fit for an artist to play upon. In opera,
it was only the broad judgment of Verdi that was able to look beyond
the borders of his native land, and his “Aïda,” as well as Boïto’s
“Mefistofele,” was the beginning of a new order of things.
=Mascagni=.—In 1890, the publisher Sonzogno offered a prize for the
best one-act opera submitted to him, and this prize was awarded to
Pietro Mascagni (Leghorn, Italy, 1863), then an unimportant musical
leader at Cerignola. Mascagni was the son of a baker, who wished him to
study law, and locked him up because he practiced the piano in secret.
The boy was rescued by his uncle, and under the protection of Count
Florestan pursued his studies at the Milan Conservatory. The opera
that brought him such fame, which has since become world-wide, was
“Cavalleria Rusticana,” or “Rustic Chivalry,” based on a tale by Verga.
The scene is a village square, before a church. The heroine, Santuzza,
is forsaken by Turiddu, who carries on an intrigue with Lola, wife of
the carter Alfio. Santuzza, in despair, denounces him to Alfio, who
challenges and kills him. The music is hardly of the highest standard;
but it is popular and vigorous in style, and intensely powerful. The
work is scarcely comparable to the music-dramas, yet every number is
animated by the spirit of the words, and it is therefore dramatically
true. Among the many favorite selections from its score are the
“Siciliana” of Turiddu (sung as part of the overture, before the
curtain rises), the broad and noble “Regina Coeli,” Lola’s serenely
confident aria, “My King of Roses,” and the jolly “Brindisi,” or
drinking chorus, to say nothing of the saccharine “Intermezzo.” The
power and vividness of “Rustic Chivalry” made it an epoch-making work;
but Mascagni’s later operas have not met with the same success. They
include “L’Amico Fritz,” “William Ratcliff,” “Silvano,” “Iris,” “Le
Maschere,” and the one-act “Amica.”
=Leoncavallo=.—The success of “Rustic Chivalry” aroused Ruggiero
Leoncavallo (Naples, Italy, 1858) to try his hand in the same school.
His early opera “Chatterton” was practically a failure, while his
ambitious “Medici” trilogy (“I Medici,” “Savonarola,” and “Cesare
Borgia”) met with no better reception. In “I Pagliacci,” however, he
produced a work of the new school, that has taken its place beside
Mascagni’s opera as an example of the new realism. The “Pagliacci”
are strolling players. Canio, the leader, is aroused to madness by
learning of the proposed elopement of his wife, Nedda, but she will not
betray her lover’s name. They enact for the villagers a mimic tragedy
of love and jealousy, but Canio makes it real by actually stabbing the
faithless Nedda. Her lover then leaps from the audience to save her,
only to meet a similar death at Canio’s hands. The music to this play
is of a higher standard than Mascagni’s, though less directly popular
in style. “Trilby” and “Zaza” are later works of little importance,
while “Roland of Berlin,” composed by order for a libretto by the
Emperor of Germany, aroused only passing interest.
=Puccini=.—When the great Verdi retired from active life as a composer,
he named as his probable successor, Giacomo Puccini (Lucca, Italy,
1858). Descended from a musical family, Puccini could devote himself
to his art without parental opposition, and he completed his studies
under Ponchielli, at the Milan Conservatory. His “Le Villi” was really
the origin of the modern one-act plays. “Edgar” resembles “Carmen”
somewhat, but has a weak libretto, and music that is not always
effective. “Manon Lescaut” is rather a succession of detached scenes
than a single whole, but at times it displays a mastery of dramatic
contrast far beyond Massenet. “La Bohême” is a delightfully sympathetic
setting of Murger’s well-known novel, and its scenes of rollicking
defiance to poverty and hunger remind one of the composer’s early
struggles. The note of haunting sweetness that pervades the score marks
Puccini as a man of rare musical gifts. In “Tosca,” the heroine of that
name loves the artist, Mario, who aids a political refugee, at the risk
of his own life. The governor, Scarpia, who captures him, loves Tosca
also, and tortures him to make her yield to his desires. To save Mario,
she consents, but stabs Scarpia at the last moment. But Scarpia’s
treachery survives him, for the pretended execution, which was to let
Mario escape, turns out to be real, and Tosca takes her own life in
despair. The music shows a ripe mastery of dramatic power. The climax
of the first act, merging into the church service, and the tragic power
of the second, well contrasted with the strains of a festival cantata
that float in through the window, are scenes that win unqualified
praise from all critics. “Madame Butterfly,” on a Japanese subject,
lacked the necessary delicacy, but the two preceding works have made
Puccini the foremost man in Italian opera today.
=The Realistic School=.—Many composers of the “Verismo” school adopt a
realism that deals only with the more brutal side of life, and their
plots, though strong, are not always pleasing. =Giordano’s= “Andrea
Chenier” and “Fedora” show musical worth, but =Spinelli’s= “A Basso
Porto,” =Coronaro’s= “Festa a Marina,” and =Tasca’s= “A Santa Lucia”
picture some of the coarsest phases of existence. Yet this defect may
be condoned when we consider that the movement has infused new life and
power into Italian music. Among those composers who have stood somewhat
aloof from the new school, =Franchetti= is the most noteworthy. His
operas include “Cristoforo Colombo,” “Germania,” and the later “Figlia
di Jorio,” and he has written symphonies that place him among the best
of the later Italian composers.
=Perosi=.—The revival in sacred music has been brought about wholly
by one man, Don Lorenzo Perosi (Tortona, Italy, 1872). He studied
faithfully, in spite of sickness—first at Milan, then under the
learned Fr. Haberl at Ratisbon. He became a conductor at Imola, and
afterwards at Venice, where he led his forces with decided vigor.
Soon after this, he began to compose the oratorios that have made
him so famous. His sacred trilogy, “The Passion of Christ,” included
the “Last Supper,” the “Sermon on the Mount,” and the “Death of the
Redeemer.” It made a sensation that reverberated through all Italy,
and caused his appointment in the following year as honorary master of
the Papal Choir. He has been untiring as a composer, producing no less
than fifteen masses and nearly a dozen oratorios. Among the latter are
“The Transfiguration,” “The Annunciation,” “The Raising of Lazarus,”
“The Birth of the Redeemer,” and the two-part “Moses.” He writes with
enthusiasm, and sees the actual picture before him while he works. His
music does not possess the calm dignity shown by Palestrina, but its
semi-popular style is well adapted to his hearers, and may lead the way
to something better.
=Sgambati=.—The leading position among Italy’s new symphonic composers
belongs to Giovanni Sgambati (Rome, Italy, 1843). Like many musicians,
he was at first destined for a lawyer’s career, but began his musical
studies in time to become known as a boy-prodigy. He settled in Rome,
and soon grew famous as a pianist. He played Beethoven, Schumann and
Chopin, and did much to introduce their works into Italy. He planned
a trip to Germany, but when Liszt came to Rome he remained there to
study under that great master. At this time his earlier compositions,
mostly chamber works, brought him into notice in a new field. These
quartets and quintets were followed by a festival overture, a piano
concerto, and three symphonies in succession. His compositions are
somewhat lacking in spontaneity, but they display great learning, and
undeniable skill. His works show the influence of Liszt and Berlioz,
mingled with the stricter style of the old Italian contrapuntal writers.
=Other Orchestral Composers=.—With Sgambati, =Martucci= also deserves
mention in the instrumental field. He became identified with the
artistic life of Naples, where he fought a similar fight for the cause
of good music. Among several others, =Del Valle de Paz= is noted
for his valuable educational work in Florence, no less than for his
compositions. =Busoni=, so well known as a pianist, has also tried his
hand at orchestral writing in the most extreme modern vein. Eugenio di
Pirani is another composer who has identified himself with the German
instrumental school. The literary champion of the new order of things
has been Luigi Torchi, whose work in the magazines deserves the highest
praise.
=Bossi=.—The most prominent figure among the younger devotees of the
German style is Marco Enrico Bossi (Salo, Italy, 1861). He studied
organ at first, and for ten years held the post of organist in the Como
Cathedral. Four years of teaching at Naples were followed by similar
work in Venice, where he gained deserved prominence. His compositions
show great originality, and include many different forms. An early
overture was given at the Crystal Palace, in London, which he visited
during a piano tour. The one-act opera “Paquita” was followed by
“L’Angelo della Notte” and “Il Veggento,” also a large work for the
Milan Exposition of 1905. He has composed many masses, and the oratorio
“Christus.” A more recent triumph is “Paradise Lost,” with Milton’s
words—a work suggested by Mme. Rubinstein. His organ concerto won
a decided success at the Chicago Fair, and his symphonic poem, “Il
Cieco,” has been well received. He aims to blend the old polyphonic
style with the rich instrumentation of modern Germany.
=Buongiorno=.—Among the adherents of German standards, Buongiorno
(Bonito, Italy, 1864) is one who has devoted himself to opera. Studying
at the Naples Conservatory, he became leader of an operetta troupe,
for which he wrote many popular works. His first great opera was “Das
Mädchenherz” (Il Cuor delle Fanciulle), which treats with admirable
delicacy the love-story of Alba and Marino. She grows to be court
singer, and defeats an older rival, but ambition makes her careless of
love. Marino becomes a priest, and only when Alba is old and forsaken
does his consolation show her what she has missed. The music displays
much emotional beauty, and the “play within the play,” at the ducal
court, allows the composer to imitate Bach, Handel, and other old
masters with exquisite humor. “Michelangelo and Rolla” is a one-act
play, again uniting a subject of real poetic worth with beautiful
music. These two operas are far removed from the crudities of the
“Verismo” school.
=Wolf-Ferrari=.—A composer who may fitly follow German ideals is
Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari, son of a German father and an Italian mother.
His “Cenerentola” (Cinderella) has a rather tedious first act, but the
second act shows all the appealing beauty and sympathetic feeling that
mark the new romanticism. “Le Donne Curiose” is an excellent example of
sparkling comedy, and has won much success in Germany. It treats of the
misadventures of some women, who try to investigate a mysterious club
formed by their husbands. A work in a different vein is the composer’s
“Vita Nuova,” a fresh and inspired setting of sonnets and other
selections from Dante’s great work.
=Music in Italy=.—It is difficult for one nation to adopt the musical
expression of another, but this is practically what Italy has done.
Verdi first gave up the trivial melodies so dear to the Italian
populace, and adopted a worthier style. Like Boïto, he denied being
influenced by Wagner, but his works show that he felt the force of
the German master’s orchestral power. The realistic school of opera
has brought into Italian music a vividness and power that are not
surpassed by any other nation, while a still later generation has
striven to cast off the crudities of this school and produce works of
real orchestral value. Italy has already done much, and the progress of
the last few decades seems to predict a bright future for her music.
=Music in Spain=.—During the last half-century, Spain, too, has
developed some native composers. One of the best is =Isaac Albeniz=,
whose “Pepita Ximenes” is a delightful comedy of love and intrigue.
His Zarzuelas also have met with success. =Felipe Pedrell=, well known
in European journalism, has written an ambitious trilogy on subjects
illustrating the national motto, “Patria, Fides, Amor.” Larrocha,
Vives, De Lara, and Antonio Noguerra are also worthy of mention. The
Zarzuela is the peculiar Spanish form of light opera, resembling the
Italian opera buffa, but possessing more brilliance and delicacy.