CHAPTER VII.

SOME LESSER STARS IN THE OPERATIC FIRMAMENT.

(_a_) THE ITALIAN SCHOOL (CIMAROSA TO VERDI).

The Italian school—Opera Buffa—The

Neapolitan school—Piccini—A notable

contest—Cimarosa—Rossini: his _Barber

of Seville_—Recitative and its

significance—_William Tell_—Bellini and

Donizetti—Verdi: his early and later operas.

[Sidenote: =The Italian School=]

Italy was the birthplace of modern opera, and for generations the

language of opera was Italian, irrespective of the nationality of

the composer. Thus a large number of the operatic works of Gluck and

of Mozart, both of whom rank as German masters, were to libretti

in Italian. On the contrary, many Italian-born musicians, such as

Cherubini and Spontini, devoted their best efforts to Grand Opera in

France. When speaking of the Italian school, therefore, it must be

understood that the language of the libretto and the class of opera are

taken into account, rather than the nationality of the composer.

[Sidenote: =Opera Buffa=]

Side by side with Grand Opera, as typified by Gluck, there grew up a

lighter and less serious form of musical play known as “Opera Buffa.”

At first designed as an interlude or intermezzo between the acts of

a serious drama, this new and bright art form was so fascinating as

to quickly justify for itself a separate existence. It was mostly

harmonious in character, and the music was, appropriately, of slighter

texture. It flourished most luxuriantly in Naples, from which fact the

composers of these charming little operas are generally classed as the

“Neapolitan school.”

[Sidenote: =The Neapolitan School=]

[Sidenote: =Piccini, 1728-1800=]

[Sidenote: =A Notable Contest=]

Logroscino (born about 1700), who invented the connected series of

separate movements known as the Concerted Finale, and Pergolesi

(1710-36), who wrote a famous example of this kind of opera under the

title _La Serva Padrona_, are two notable members of this little band

of composers. In addition to these may be named Jomelli, Sacchini,

Galuppi, Paisiello, and Piccini, the last-named being specially famous

through his contest with Gluck, a musical duel yet more notorious than

that between Handel and Buononcini already mentioned. For Piccini, a

man of great talent though not of genius, was brought to Paris in 1776

and pitted against the reformer Gluck, whose revolutionary methods

of procedure met with anything but favour in certain quarters. The

rival composers, strongly backed by their respective supporters, fought

bitterly for pre-eminence, with results only too disastrous to the

poor Italian maestro, who was very unfortunately handicapped. For we

read that on the night of the first production of the work, which was

seriously intended to beat Gluck on his own ground (the same subject

for a libretto—viz., _Iphigenia in Tauride_—having been chosen),

his music was almost wrecked by the prima donna of the occasion, that

good lady being hopelessly intoxicated; whereupon men exclaimed, “Not

Iphigenia in Tauride, but Iphigenia in Champagne!” In spite of his

merits, this composer of eighty operas is now hardly known, except in

connection with this famous controversy.

[Illustration: CIMAROSA.]

[Sidenote: =Cimarosa, 1749-1801=]

A more famous Neapolitan is Cimarosa, whose sparkling work, _The

Secret Marriage_, is still played to-day. On the occasion of its first

performance at Vienna in 1792, the Emperor was so delighted with it

that he ordered its repetition on the same evening, thoughtfully

providing the artistes with supper between the performances. Cimarosa’s

other works, although charming and sometimes of great beauty, are now

practically dead: his fame was soon eclipsed by that of the young and

rising Mozart.

[Sidenote: =Rossini, 1792-1868=]

With the success of Mozart and Weber in German opera, and the

desertion of the Italian methods in favour of the French by Cherubini

and Spontini, Italian opera lay for a while under a cloud. This was

dispersed by the furore created by the operatic creations of Rossini,

who, although by no means a very skilled or capable musician, had a

rare knowledge both of effect and also of the kind of thing to which

the general public loves to listen. Melodic gifts were his, and when

one adds a certain clever and tricky use of the orchestra and an

evident desire to give the singers the most vocal and effective music

that he could possibly invent, we can readily understand how successful

was this facile composer.

[Sidenote: “=The Barber of Seville=”]

The earliest of his operas to win him fame was _Tancredi_, a grand

opera produced in 1813. This was followed after an interval of two

years by the production of one of his best known works, _The Barber of

Seville_, an excellent example of Opera Buffa. Its overture is well

known, and introduces samples of that effective device, cheap and yet

wondrously convincing, known as the “Rossinian _Crescendo_.” This is

attained, as will be seen, by the use of a simple figure of melody

begun very softly and continued with greater and greater degrees of

power and more and more instruments. In spite of its simplicity and

obviousness, its effect is an intoxicating one, and is an example of

the simple and yet unfailing means by which Rossini attracted his

public.

Example of a Rossini “Crescendo,” from the Overture to “Il Barbiere.”

<Music>

[Sidenote: =Recitative=]

The whole opera, with its brilliant bravura voice passages, its

grandiose effects of double thirds, and its periods of climax, is

particularly characteristic of its composer. Rossini produced a vast

number of operas, both serious and comic; in the former he made a great

innovation when he wrote _Otello_ in 1816. We have already frequently

mentioned that in Grand Opera the music must be always continuous;

this, however, does not imply a continuous series of airs, duets, and

choruses. These were divided by passages of blank verse or dialogue,

which correspond to the passages of dialogue with which we in England

are so familiar in the productions of Gilbert and Sullivan. When these

passages were _spoken_, as in Beethoven’s _Fidelio_ or Weber’s _Der

Freischütz_, the work, however tragic in subject, was not termed “Grand

Opera” at all, but rather “Comic Opera” or “Singspiel.” When, however,

_all_ was sung, then the term “Grand Opera” was applied.

But a difference was given to the musical setting of such passages to

that allotted to the more lyrical portions. At first, when there were

no lyrics, as in the early Monteverde operas, the musical setting was

of the same character throughout; after the introduction of the Aria

into opera by Scarlatti, the intermediary dialogue was often set to

music of a _parlante_ (or speaking) nature, generally without time

divisions or musical accent: this portion of the music was termed the

Recitative.

So unimportant was this Recitative considered from a musical point

of view that no trouble was taken in the writing of it—it was a

necessary evil. Mozart, we find, on one or two occasions, entrusted

its composition to his pupil Sussmäyr. Moreover, the orchestra rarely

played the accompaniment to it, this task being entrusted to the

harpsichord; even the part for this was not written out, only a bass

with figures being provided. It will thus be seen how small a degree

of importance was attached to the music of these connecting links:

such recitative was termed “Recitativo secco,” and of this our first

quotation from Peri is a good example. (See page 35.)

Both Monteverde and Gluck had made attempts at relieving the dulness

of this method of accompaniment by the introduction not only of the

orchestra, but also of fitting and suitable music on certain occasions.

Rossini revived this plan in _Otello_, and since then it has been

generally employed in all serious opera. From the fact that the

instruments of the orchestra are necessary for its proper presentation,

this form of recitative has received the name of _Recitativo

Stromentato_.

[Sidenote: “=William Tell=”]

Rossini’s operas have mostly gone the way of all such light and trivial

music, but among the more long-lived specimens may be named _La

Cenerentola_, _Gazza Ladra_, and _William Tell_. The last-named, with

its popular overture, is a work of much better class than its brethren,

and was written some long period after the others, when Rossini

himself began to be dissatisfied with his earlier works. The fact,

however, remains that he can never have taken himself as a very serious

musician, for the last forty years of his life were spent in idleness

and he wrote practically nothing.

[Sidenote: =Bellini and Donizetti=]

What has been said of the operas of Rossini applies also in very large

measure to those of his followers—Mercadante, Pacini, Bellini, and

Donizetti, all of whom wrote on the same empty plan. Of these four the

last-named produced works which have had the greatest longevity, and,

thanks to certain _prime donne_ who have more belief in the beauty

and skill of manipulation of their voices than they have love for the

real and artistic in music, some are still to be heard during every

opera season. The most famous Bellini opera is _Norma_, while _La

Sonnambula_ runs it a close second. Donizetti is remembered by _Lucia

di Lammermoor, Lucretia Borgia, La Favorita, La Fille du Régiment, and

L’Elisir d’Amore_.

[Sidenote: =Verdi, 1814-1901=]

More worth attaches to the many beautiful works of the last of this

school, Verdi, who lived to so ripe an age and so modernized his

methods that his later operas all belong rightly to a post-Wagner

period. But in his early scores Verdi wrote entirely on the Italian

model, and although of sterner mould than Bellini and Donizetti,

his works bear a close family resemblance to those of his immediate

predecessors. Like them, Verdi had a ready gift of melody. Such operas

as _Ernani_ (1844), _Rigoletto_ (1851), _Il Trovatore_ (1853), and _La

Traviata_ (1853)—the last-named having been written in the short space

of one month—are replete with energy and vigour and full of broad and

sometimes somewhat vulgar tune. These works still hold their position

on the stage, and appeal to those who love easily grasped and tuneful

music, coupled with interesting dramatic action.

[Illustration: VERDI.]

For years Verdi wrote operas on this popular plan, producing the

familiar _Un Ballo in Maschera_ as late as 1859. But the influence

of the methods of Wagner was creeping over him, and (although he

never attempted to follow the master to the full) it is evident in

his grand opera _Aïda_, produced in 1871. This work, rich and glowing

with local colour, and with a plot whose action is laid in Egypt, is

a stepping-stone between the earlier and later operas, and shows the

music of its composer in a transition stage. Here is a type of Verdi’s

ready gift of melody:—

Radamès’ first Aria in “Aïda” (Verdi).

[Music]

Celeste Aïda forma divina mistico serto di luce e fior

[Sidenote: =Verdi’s Later Operas=]

_Otello_, produced in 1887, and _Falstaff_ in 1893, when its wonderful

creator was just upon eighty years of age, are modern operas in the

real sense of the expression. The old Verdi is to a great extent laid

aside, and these marvellous and powerful works, while still exhibiting

great freshness of melody, give evidence also of such masterly use of

the orchestra, and such perfect wedding of words with music as is only

to be found in the music of the most modern days. So that in Verdi’s

operas we stretch hands across the chasm that divides the simple,

melodious, old-fashioned works from the complex polyphonic modern

examples, and note in his compositions a movement and progress parallel

with that made in all other branches of musical art during a similar

period of its history.

The story of opera · 第 7 / 19 章