Reproduced from a photograph from life made by Dornac & Co., Paris,
1891.
]
The opera “Manon” has a curious history which Massenet related to me one
day. Everybody knows in what singular circumstances the author of “Manon
Lescaut” (Abbé Prévost) took refuge at The Hague. It was in that city
that he wrote his “Mémoires d’un Homme de Qualité” to which “Manon
Lescaut” seems to belong as a species of postscript or sequel. In a like
manner, and in that Dutch town, Massenet, owing to certain
circumstances, chanced to write the score of “Manon” the substance of
which is taken from the Abbé Prévost’s romance. Wishing to remain apart
from the rest of the world, in order to be quite undisturbed, he took
lodgings as a boarder under an assumed name at a house in The Hague. To
prevent all suspicion as to identity, he did not send for a piano, for,
unlike some composers, Massenet does not need a piano to enable him to
compose. He thinks out his music, which he hears inwardly, already
arranged for the orchestra. Absorbed in his work, the composer labored
unceasingly. He never went forth to take necessary exercise until after
nightfall, that he might run no risk of being recognized. After his
walk, which lasted about an hour, he returned home with coat collar
turned up to conceal his face.
He was accustomed to write at a large table littered with music-paper,
each sheet bearing thirty staves. When not actually engaged in composing
he amused himself by reading the Abbé Prévost’s romance, written by the
French author in that same foreign town, possibly even in that same
house, more than a century before. And Massenet’s artistic imagination
saw in this fact a happy prognostic. “Why,” thought he, “should not my
score of ‘Manon’ be as successful as was Prévost’s immortal novel?
Grant, O, Sovereign God of Inspiration, that I may cause the sweet and
loving Manon to sing, after a lapse of a hundred years, under the same
sky, far away from Paris, and in the same happy strain as that in which
the most worldly of abbés made her speak!”
The existence of the mysterious foreigner who was always writing music
but who never played any instrument, greatly exercised Massenet’s
landlord. The inmates of the house were not less mystified than was he.
The gossips agreed that this French musician was a choir-master—and a
very original one. At last the composer was recognized, and the next day
the newspapers informed the public that Massenet had been for some time
at The Hague. People flocked to see him, and his apartments were
speedily crowded with friends or with persons who came from mere
curiosity. Happily, however, the score of “Manon” was completed.
Massenet is one of the most estimable of men, kind and sympathetic to a
fault, and possessed of great delicacy and consideration for others. He
would enjoy the friendship of all men, were he less talented and
consequently less liable to inspire jealousy. Of medium stature, spare
but well made and of striking appearance, he has always looked younger
than he really was, a happy privilege among the many others enjoyed by
this favored son of genius, who is an honor and glory of the present
generation of French composers. He is now a member of the Institute of
France, a professor of composition at the National Conservatory of Paris
and an Officer of the Legion of Honor.
As we close this biographical sketch, the distinguished composer has
just given the first performance of his latest opera, “Werther,” at the
Grand Theatre of Vienna, where it met with brilliant success. Massenet
has been kind enough to bestow on us a page of the work to place in this
biography, with a specimen of his handwriting, and we tender him our
warmest thanks. By the time these lines meet the eye of the reader,
“Werther” will have been put upon the stage at the Opéra Comique, in
Paris.
Massenet’s debut in theatrical work dates from the third of April, 1866,
when “La Grand’tante,” a pretty little piece full of melody and
freshness, was represented at the Opéra Comique. It was he who, on the
Emperor’s fête, August 12 of the following year, wrote the official
cantata performed at the Opéra.
After this first attempt in theatrical music, and his cantata, Massenet
produced various concert works, among others, “Poèmes et Souvenirs” and
“Poèmes d’Avril,” the words of which are by Armand Sylvestre; also a
_bouffe_ scene entitled “L’Improvisateur.” His second Suite
d’Orchestre,—a Suite Hongroise, was played at the Concerts Populaires.
For the Société Classique Armingaud he composed “Introductions et
Variations,” a quartet for stringed and wind instruments. In 1872 he
produced his second dramatic work, “Don César de Bazan,” at the Opéra
Comique; but the public did not give it a very cordial reception. It had
been written under unfavorable conditions, improvised, as it were, in
three weeks. The managers of the theatre proposed terms to the young
composer which he was obliged to accept or decline without amendment.
Massenet took his revenge for this treatment, however, in the very same
year, with the delightful scenic music for the drama, “Les Errynies,” by
the Comte de Lisle, which was represented at the Odéon. The next year,
1873, the composer produced one of his most exquisite scores, which
shows his warm poetic talent in the most characteristic manner. This was
“Marie Madeleine,” a sacred drama in three acts, which has had a
world-wide success. So successful was it indeed that Massenet was
encouraged to write “Eve,” a mystery in three acts. This latter, so
intimately related in character to “Marie Madeleine,” has been given at
the concerts of sacred harmony established by Lamoureux. In this, too,
the composer’s personality is emphasized by exquisitely delicate and
poetic touches. The same may be said of “La Vierge,” a sacred legend in
four parts, written for the Opéra concerts and played for the first time
in 1880. The “Sleep of the Virgin” in this legend is one of those
inspirations which prove beyond all doubt the measure of a composer’s
genius.
A year before the production of “La Vierge,” Massenet had given the
French National Academy of Music his first great opera, “Le Roi de
Lahore,” in five acts, the success of which was not at first evident.
The public considered this beautiful music slightly cold, and
instrumental rather than vocal. They said the composer had shown himself
wanting in melody, and that he had sacrificed too much to his love for
scientific combinations, although wild applause greeted a certain number
of happily-conceived songs, among others the aria so splendidly rendered
by Lassalle and which has always been honored with an encore.
It is only when great works are reproduced after a certain interval of
time that we can determine whether they are really worthy a place in the
musical repertory. The reproduction at the Opéra of the “Roi de Lahore”
was a great success, and it has always been enthusiastically received in
the principal theatres of Europe and America.
The Théâtre de la Monnaie, at Brussels, enjoyed the privilege of giving,
in 1881, the first performance of Massenet’s second grand opera,
“Hérodiade” in three acts and five tableaux. This time success was
beyond all doubt, and from the first representation onward, the piece
was received with enthusiasm. Whatever M. Massenet may hereafter give to
the world, “Hérodiade” will undoubtedly remain one of the finest works
that have originated in the fertile brain of this distinguished
musician. Throughout the work the divine afflatus is maintained, and
melody fills the auditorium. The opera is full of passion and sentiment,
at once human and religious, just as in “Marie Madeleine.” It might be
said that “Hérodiade” is the same sacred drama brought upon the stage,
with this difference, that Madeleine becomes Salome, and Christ is
transformed into John.
After “Hérodiade,” in Brussels, we had, in 1884, “Manon” at the Opéra
Comique in Paris. Were I asked to make a definite choice between
“Hérodiade” and “Manon” I should hesitate; but I should choose “Manon.”
From the first to the last note the work is delightful. It is not less
beautiful when softly sung at home to the accompaniment of the piano,
than in the theatre, where our delight never for an instant moderates.
Following “Manon” in 1885, Massenet’s “Le Cid” in four acts, was
performed at the Grand Opéra in Paris, and although reproduced several
times, this work still maintains its place in the repertory.
In 1889, the indefatigable composer returned to the Opéra Comique with
“Esclarmonde,” which drew crowds to this theatre during several months.
In the chronological order of the musician’s dramatic works,
“Esclarmonde” is followed by “Le Mage,” a grand opera in four acts and
six tableaux, the poem by M. Richepin, performed at the National Academy
of Music in Paris. I have witnessed several renderings of this work, and
have read the piano score. The more I have studied the opera the more am
I impressed by its wonderful beauty. The individuality of the work, its
passion and grace and delicacy, its originality as to form and harmony,
are so numerous that it is unnecessary to criticise it more
particularly.
All lovers of music know the extent of Massenet’s skill as a master of
harmony. He is a master in the full meaning of the expression. It would
be impossible for a musician to carry to a higher degree than he has
done the complex art of orchestration or of counterpoint, so much
honored of late years, though so often abused; or to have more happy
facility as a harmonist. Were I to presume to criticise anything in the
author of “Le Mage,” I should limit myself to mentioning his too clearly
apparent striving after _effect_ by means of fresh combinations of
instruments. Massenet has too great a wealth of truly musical ideas for
him to labor so hard for _material_ effects. The true effects in music
are produced by the thought, by the idea, apart from the application of
the thought or idea to any special instrument. There is scarce any charm
of emotion produced by music save through the musician’s imagination,
that is, by the invention which results from the inward and profound
emotion felt by the composer. Were it only necessary to be learned in
any given art, only necessary to possess the power of cleverly combining
notes and the tones of musical instruments, so as to produce fine
musical works, every artist now living would write masterpieces; for, in
truth, the study of technique has never been carried so far as it has
been during the past twenty years. Technique is undoubtedly
indispensable, but of itself it serves no purpose and is of no value,
unless it be used as the exponent of the melodic conception which is the
very soul of music.
M. Massenet has published seven suites for orchestra, which may be found
in the repertory of every great musical society. To him we owe various
scenes for chorus and orchestra: “Narcisse,” and “Biblis”; a symphonic
poem entitled “Visions,” and a large number of fugitive melodies with
pianoforte accompaniment. He has also completed the score of a ballet,
“Le Carillon,” as yet unpublished.
[Illustration: Oscar Comettant]
[Illustration:
Fac-simile of musical manuscript written by Massenet.
]
[Illustration: