Reproduction of a lithograph portrait published by Becquet of Paris.
]
Not so with his greater confrère Halévy, whose first grand successes,
“La Juive” and “L’Eclair,” were his only masterpieces. Thomas has not
reached the height to which Halévy soared in either of these operas.
“Mignon” and “Hamlet” are, however, works of no common order. The former
has won a place in the repertory of every opera house in Europe. There
is much of genuine poetic feeling in the music, and the score, as a
whole, is distinguished by grace, melodiousness, delicacy of taste, and
that effect of spontaneity that is understood as inspiration. Fine
discrimination has been shown in giving each character its appropriate
musical expression, and the skill with which the people of the story are
contrasted cannot be too warmly praised. The “Connais-tu le pays,” the
“swallow” duet, the prayer of Mignon, the romance of Wilhelm, the
polonaise of Felina, have become justly celebrated. The orchestration is
exquisite in its delicate finish and its ingeniously varied but always
artistic color. That it has achieved a permanent place on the opera
stage is beyond question. “Hamlet” is more ambitious, and though not
without a certain nobility of style, is little else than a more
elaborate “Mignon.” In it the composer says nothing that he has not
already said in the last-named work, the only change being a somewhat
more earnest method of expression. In this opera it was claimed that
Thomas “has indicated to young composers the line at which the new
school should stop, under penalty of exceeding the bounds of lyric art”;
but Thomas, though undoubtedly a musician of talent, knowledge and
experience, has never shown such originality as to entitle him to be
considered a reformer, and as yet there has not been, even in his own
country, any propaganda to spread a knowledge of him through the world.
“Hamlet” may be considered the extreme point that French grand opera had
reached in the direction of the Wagnerian music-drama up to the time
that it appeared. The Gounod influence is still clearly apparent in it,
but the Wagner influence also makes itself felt in the effort to break
away from conventional models and to substitute expressive declamation
for more rhythmical melody. The mad song of Ophelia is, perhaps, the
most effective number in the opera. “Françoise de Rimini” went a step
further than did “Hamlet” toward a predetermined departure from the old
school of operatic music to the new. The composer authorized the
statement that the prologue to the work would be a profession of musical
faith, which he had long contemplated and in which he would mark
definitely how closely symphonic music can be allied with the lyric
drama; after which the curtain was to rise on music essentially
“theatrical,” or, if a better word should be demanded, “human.” The
prologue is certainly as strong and masterly, but it has in it nothing
of a symphonic quality, and, as a profession of faith, proved to be of
no permanent value save as an evidence of the highest point which the
composer’s musical development had reached. This portion of the opera
and the fourth act are by far the finest achievements of Thomas. The
orchestra through the whole opera is treated with consummate power,
notably in the beautiful effects obtained by unaccustomed groupings of
the different instruments. In the ingenious blendings of tone-color that
are produced by combining widely varying timbres with a skill as
profound as felicitous; the richness, ripeness, and perfection of the
scoring generally; as well as the masterly discretion observed in
maintaining a judicious balance between the orchestra and the singers,
the score may be justly given a place among the most masterly that
modern musical art has produced. For the rest, despite some splendid
dramatic moments in the work and the faultless finish of its workmanship
as a whole, it is to be doubted if it will live. But how few works do
live! Many glorious operas have been written since “Don Giovanni” and
“Fidelio” saw the light, and yet not one has appeared that has yet been
accorded a place by their side. Hundreds of operas that met with a
brilliant and deserved success in their day, have fallen gradually into
the background; operas by Spontini, who, in “La Vestale,” just escaped
producing an immortal masterpiece; by Cherubini, whose “Les Deux
Journées” came nearer winning the third place than any opera since; by
Rossini, Bellini, Donizetti, Verdi, Meyerbeer, whose “Les Huguenots” is
his only work that bids fair to survive; by Weber, whose “Der
Freischütz” alone promises to last. The supreme operas of the world
might be named on the fingers of one hand. Mention of Wagner has been
avoided because he is yet to experience the test of time,—that
incorruptible and most pitiless of critics. It is the fate of some
admirable and justly honored composers to learn their ultimate
reputation with posterity during their lifetime. Among these, we think,
is Ambroise Thomas, and that reputation will include respectful
consideration for an eminent and able musician, who constantly grew in
his art; while it will accord him a prominent place in the ranks of
wholly estimable opera composers of the second order.
[Illustration: B. E. Woolf]
[Illustration: