OFFSHOOTS AND CURIOSITIES OF OPERA.
Operetta—Musical comedy—Ballad opera—Masque—
Ballet—Objections thereto—Curiosities of
construction—Pasticcio—Mixed language—
Stereotyped casts—Curiosities of stage requirements
—Wagner’s supernatural requirements—Curiosities
of the music—Vocal cadenzas.
The chief offshoot of Opera proper is Opera Comique, or Singspiel.
This we have already described as being opera interspersed with spoken
dialogue, not necessarily of a humorous nature: the mere fact, however,
of its introduction confers on the work the title of Opera Comique in
France, or of Singspiel in Germany. When one remembers that such works
as Beethoven’s _Fidelio_ and Weber’s _Der Freischütz_ belong to this
type, it is evidently of great importance, and a very large number of
the operas already mentioned by a variety of composers come under this
heading.
[Sidenote: =Operetta=]
Next perhaps in interest is the operetta, or short opera, originally
a one-act light opera very frequently employing spoken dialogue; the
general style, moreover, is lighter and of less imposing proportions
than serious opera. In later days operettas are often prolonged into
two or more acts, and have been made very specially familiar to English
theatre-goers by the long series of works by Gilbert and Sullivan,
which, properly speaking, belong to this category.
[Sidenote: =Musical Comedy=]
Of a somewhat lower grade is musical comedy, a popular type of stage
piece making considerable use of music, but of only the less exalted
forms of the art; no serious pretensions to artistic beauty are claimed
by these works, the taste for which seems to be, at the present time,
somewhat on the wane.
[Sidenote: =Ballad Opera=]
A form of opera for which the English have always had an affection
is the “Ballad Opera,” really a string of airs, often by different
composers, thrown more or less promiscuously into a story, with
which they often appear to have no very close connection; there is
practically no concerted music, and the whole bears some sort of
resemblance to a ballad concert. The renowned _Beggar’s Opera_, which
for years was a model for English entrepreneurs, belonged to this
category, and set an example for hosts of imitators to follow; indeed,
England is only now beginning to shake herself free from the trammels
of this class of work, to which such operas as _The Bohemian Girl_ and
_Maritana_ tend to approximate. The ballad opera also took root in
America, where hundreds of such works flourished for a time, and it is
not unknown in Germany, where it receives the title of “Liederspiel.”
[Sidenote: =Masque=]
Of more artistic merit and interest is the “Masque,” which really
preceded opera; originally developing in carnival processions through
the streets of Italian towns, it was adopted in England during the
reigns of Henry VIII. and some succeeding monarchs. The plan of such
works was the presentation of some allegorical idea upon a stage with
descriptive music, both vocal and instrumental, and, in addition, a
large proportion of dancing. Campion, Lock, Coperario, and many others
took part in the composition of these divertissements, which were in
great demand for such functions as royal weddings. They were staged
in the most sumptuous manner, great attention being paid to stage
machinery, costume, etc.; much of the music has been lost, but what
remains shows it to have been excellent of its class, and effective
even in performance to-day.
[Sidenote: =Ballet=]
In early days of operatic history there was no radical difference
between the masque and the ballet; an entertainment of vocal and
instrumental music in celebration of the marriage of the Duke of
Joyeuse in 1581 (costing three and a half million francs to produce,
by-the-bye) was termed “Ballet comique de la Royne.” As an illustration
of the dance alone, which is its present signification, the ballet
appears to date from the foundation of the opera in France, with which
it has had a very close and lasting connection.
Indeed until recently grand opera without a ballet was unknown;
beginning with Lully, and continuing even up to the present day, the
ballet has maintained a position of great importance; and although it
has never appealed to the English to the same extent as it seems to
have done to our Continental brethren, it has been transported with
the works in which it was introduced, and has become a very familiar
feature to opera-goers; even so recent a work as Cilea’s _Adriana
Lecouvreur_ introduces a lengthy and somewhat annoying ballet.
[Sidenote: =Objections thereto=]
For the great disadvantage of the ballet is that it breaks up the
continuity of the story; the development of the interest of the opera
is arrested, and so far as the music is concerned a complete difference
in style is often necessary, the result being that the old train of
thought and idea is often only to be resumed with difficulty. Hence
it happens that, with a growing appreciation for artistic truth in
opera, the ballet has fallen into the background, and most operas
seen to-day do not include any performance of what is, at best, a
somewhat irrelevant interlude. A few attempts, such as that by Wagner
in _Tannhäuser_, to introduce a ballet as an integral factor in the
_dénouement_, have not been specially successful, nor have they been
widely imitated. As a separate form of entertainment, apart from opera,
the ballet has had excellent music written for it by Adam, Sullivan,
Tchaïkovsky, and others (in Russia it is a very popular amusement); but
in England its appearances are now mainly confined to the music-hall,
where it is wedded to music of a light and charming character.
[Sidenote: =Curiosities=]
A few words as to curiosities of opera; these may be grouped under two
or three different heads, somewhat as follows:—
(1) Curiosities of Construction and Design.
(2) Curiosities of Stage Requirements.
(3) Curiosities of the Music.
[Sidenote: =Curiosities of Construction=]
[Sidenote: =Pasticcio=]
The old manner of collecting a mass of heterogeneous materials in the
way of airs and songs, and of turning them into a kind of opera, is
certainly curious. The name “Pasticcio,” or “pie,” is very applicable
to this hybrid growth, which, however, has at times attained to great
popularity; one of the most famous instances of its kind is _Muzio
Scevola_, produced in 1771. his work was in three acts: the first
composed by Ariosti, the second by Buononcini, and the third by Handel;
the last-named great composer, with an easy manner of doing things
which would certainly not pass muster at the present day, also brought
out in 1738 an opera almost entirely made up of favourite airs from his
other works; an example which Gluck followed a few years later. The day
for this kind of thing is fortunately past, and no composer of serious
operatic work would revert to a procedure which is more suggestive of
the construction of a pantomime.
[Sidenote: =Mixed Languages=]
The singing by different performers in different languages at the
same time is another defunct custom; so little regard was paid to the
importance of the libretto that it used to be quite a common occurrence
for each person on the stage to sing in whatever language came easiest
to him or her; on the Continent the airs would perhaps be sung in
Italian and the recitatives in German, with an inconsistency that is
almost incredible; when, however, agility in vocalization was the
chief attraction in operatic representation, it is to be presumed that
intelligibility of utterance was not an important consideration.
[Sidenote: =Stereotyped Casts=]
To the same cause must be attributed the extraordinary fact that the
_dramatis personæ_ were the same for nearly all operas during a certain
period. Whatever the story or plot to be unfolded, it was essential
that there should be six principal characters—a high soprano, a mezzo,
and a contralto, a male soprano, a tenor, and a bass; of course slight
modifications in the character of the voices was occasionally allowed,
but the main lines followed were as above. And whether it suited the
story or not, each of these good people expected to have an important
air to sing in each act, and woe betide the unhappy composer who wrote
a more attractive piece for one of them than was supplied to his or her
rival singer. From this stereotyped form of bondage, with its horrible
artificiality, opera is now free; and it is due to the observance of
these conventions that the works of Handel and other composers, who
wrote really good music, are absolutely dead.
Apart from the construction in the form of the opera, there have
been from time to time interesting experiments made with regard to
the housing of that integral portion of it—the orchestra. Wagner’s
innovation, the placing of the band out of sight and below the stage,
although it necessitated the increase of the string sections, has
proved on the whole good; other designs have been the entire covering
in of the orchestra with a thin transparent substance, which has
had the effect of subduing the sound, but which has also proved
disastrously hot for the poor players. One idea emanated from the New
York Metropolitan, when Mr. Conried suggested the placing of the brass
players upon a movable platform, which could move up or down at will;
if it is desired that their instruments shall sound prominently they
will be raised into the air; if, on the other hand, a subdued effect
is required, they will be lowered a few feet; a long crescendo will,
presumably, be effected by a gradual elevation of this movable floor!
One has yet to wait to see this somewhat freakish invention adopted.
[Sidenote: =Curiosities of Stage Requirements=]
In days when enormous groups of performers were considered
indispensable for grand effects in opera, one reads of many
extravagances in the way of display. In modern scenic dramatic works,
in the ballet, and in pantomime, these effects are no doubt legitimate
enough; but in so far as the cumbering of the stage with voiceless
supers hardly helps on the cause of opera, it is a matter for
congratulation that these exceptional stage demands are no longer made
to any great extent.
Here, for instance, is the modest list of performers that took part in
Freschi’s _Berenice_ in 1680:—
100 Virgins.
100 Soldiers.
100 Horsemen in Iron Armour.
40 Cornets on Horseback.
6 Mounted Trumpeters.
6 Drummers.
6 Ensigns.
6 Sackbuts.
6 Flutes.
12 Minstrels playing on Turkish instruments, etc.
6 Pages.
3 Sergeants.
6 Cymbaleers.
12 Huntsmen.
12 Grooms.
12 Charioteers.
2 Lions led by 2 Turks.
2 Elephants.
4 Horses with Berenice’s Triumphal Car.
12 Horses drawing 6 cars.
6 Chariots.
A stable with 100 living horses.
A forest filled with wild boar, deer, and bears.
However magnificent and imposing in effect such a spectacle may be,
its proper sphere is not opera. With Meyerbeer, Spontini, and other
composers of grand opera these ideas have found favour; but they are
a bar to the production of their works to-day, not only on the score
of very considerable expense, but also because the artistic sense that
delights in beautiful music wedded to appropriate drama will hardly
find pleasure in such merely sensuous effects of the eye.
[Sidenote: =Wagner’s Supernatural Requirements=]
The difficulties of modern stage management occur chiefly in the
presentation of the supernatural; huge crowds are easy enough to put
upon the stage, but to make a bird fly across naturally is a more
involved matter. In so many of the Wagner operas these supernatural
features are essential elements of the situation; the Rhine maidens
_must_ appear to be swimming in real water, the bird _must_ fly ahead
of Siegfried to show him the rock on which Brünnhilde sleeps, and
round that rock living flames of fire _must_ dart and play. It is such
points as these which are difficult to stage convincingly. Has anyone
ever felt very frightened at the dragon Fafner? The fire has a way of
coming out of his mouth at the wrong time, his head and his tail seem
to have little connection with one another, and the impressive effect
of his deeply sonorous utterances is often marred by the very visible
megaphone through which they are uttered. In these strange beasts, for
which machinery is ineffective, there is still scope for improvement in
modern stage management.
[Sidenote: =Curiosities of the Music=]
Curiosities in the music occur now and then: such, for instance, is
the weird portion in the middle of Weber’s _Euryanthe_ overture, where
the curtain rises momentarily to display a gruesome tomb: such is the
thrusting aside of the stage curtain in the midst of Leoncavallo’s
_Pagliacci_ prelude for one of the characters to sing a song; such is
the curious vocal scherzo upon one reiterated note, for the chorus of
seraphim in Boito’s _Mefistofele_.
On a bigger scale is the curious experiment made by Michael in the
opera _Utal_, in writing his work without any violins in the orchestra.
Of more frequent occurrence than the omission of instruments is
the inclusion of various unusual effects, such as the introduction
of a mandoline for the serenade in Mozart’s _Don Giovanni_, of the
Glockenspiel for Papageno in the _Magic Flute_, of peal of bells in
many works, and so forth, whereas Handel sighed for a cannon, and
Tchaïkovsky actually used one in his _1812_ overture. The maximum of
stage noise in this way was probably reached by Spontini, who, in his
opera _Alcidor_ had a number of anvils upon the stage tuned to certain
notes! An anvil accompaniment, not ineffectively used, may be heard in
Gounod’s _Philémon and Baucis_.
[Sidenote: =Vocal Cadenzas=]
Among curiosities of the music must be mentioned the vocal cadenzas,
etc., written for exceptional singers; and in the days when these
singers used to include male sopranos and contraltos (termed Castrati),
the majority of singers appear to have been exceptional. For a man to
develop a high soprano voice seems not only unnatural but inartistic;
and these singers, many of them most famous, belong to an order of
things that obtains no longer, being contrary both to modern ethics
and to good taste: what the male soprano could do can usually be done
equally well by a good woman singer, and of these there is usually a
sufficient supply.
For women singers with voices of exceptional compass special music has
often been written, as witness the part of “Queen of the Night” in
Mozart’s _Zauberflöte_, much of which lies abnormally high. Even where
not written, singers of Italian opera have often introduced elaborate
and wonderful cadenzas for the purposes of display, and these,
although not tolerated in opera of the most exalted kind, may still be
frequently heard. An example of a cadenza of this kind may conclude the
chapter.
Example of a Vocal Cadenza quoted by Mozart as sung to him by Lucrezia
Agujari in 1770.
[Music]
Nowadays little of this kind of music is written for the voice, so far
as opera is concerned. The work required of the modern operatic singer
is more dramatic by nature, and makes demands upon technique of a
different order.