Reproduction of a photograph from life made by Dornac & Cie., Paris.
]
And what scene so marvelous as that balcony scene of Roméo, chaste and
passionate throughout! What earnest and trembling accents on the lips of
the two fond lovers whom the world—a world of strife and
contention—seems bound to separate forever! And what newness, what a
winning fearlessness, what a balmy freshness in the melodic sentiment
which the composer employs to express the sensations which stir the
hearts of his tender heroes! Could love be expressed in a more exquisite
and more touching manner?
On the other hand, and by contrast, what scene more striking in its
grandeur, more spirited, more manly, than that of the double duel,
Tybalt and Mercutio, Roméo and Tybalt! Here the musician has so
wonderfully colored his inspiration that he has raised up a world of the
past before our very eyes, and, while listening, we feel that surely we
must be present at one of the cruel episodes of that long and bloody
struggle between the Capulets and the Montagues. The insult slung by
Tybalt in the face of Roméo, agitated, but contained, Mercutio’s
objurgations, the first duel of the latter with Tybalt, who strikes him
to the heart, Roméo’s rage at seeing his friend expire, the fury with
which he throws himself in his turn upon Tybalt, and the second combat,
fatal to the latter, all this the composer has rendered in an admirable
manner, with a spirit, a verve, a power, a dramatic movement and a
picturesque feeling which make of this episode a page full of grandeur,
and worthy to compete with the painting of a Titian or of a Veronese. In
considering this remarkable score, so rich from beginning to end and so
varied in its unity, we cannot pass over the austere and touching
marriage scene, the lark duo and the episode of the death of the two
lovers. Truly, it is a work of the highest order, which yields in
nothing to “Faust,” and is perhaps superior to it in certain parts and
in certain ways.
It is in “Faust” and “Roméo” that Gounod has not only given the full
measure of his genius, but has made most conspicuous the true personal
tendencies of that genius and his own originality. It is there that his
musical phrase, so fascinating, so new in form and characteristic in
outline, is developed in all its fullness and all its freedom. It is
there that his harmonies, so rich, so refined, so piquant, and sometimes
so unexpected, are the most abundantly and happily displayed. It is
there that his ingenious instrumentation, full of color and grace and
always elegant, that transparent instrumentation we might say, at the
same time dignified and full, has embraced those exquisite passages
which always thrill delicate and sensitive ears. It is there that
passion speaks a truly enchanting language, that emotion attains the
highest limits of its power, and it is the aggregate of all these
qualities which make the master’s genius stand out in bold relief and
which shows it off in the most complete and striking fashion.
But if “Faust” and “Roméo” are worthy of so much admiration, that does
not mean that no importance or sympathy should be attached to the
composer’s other works, which, though less perfect and less lofty in
character, are none the less deserving of the most active appreciation
on the part of the public and of true artists. “Philémon et Baucis,”
“Mireille,” “Le Médécin Malgré Lui,” are productions of unquestionable
merit, and even in “Sapho” and “La Reine de Saba,” weak and unequal as
they undoubtedly are, one may find pages of the rarest beauty. It should
be remarked that even in his least successful works, what we may always
admire in Gounod is the noblesse of his language and the splendor of his
style. It is necessary to add that if, as is generally believed,
fertility is a sign of force, Gounod deserves to be classed among the
strongest! Few artists, indeed, have produced more or in greater
variety, opera, oratorio, symphony, religious music, cantatas, vocal
chamber music, (set to French, English or Italian words) choruses with
or without accompaniment, compositions for piano or organ, he has
touched them all, and in all has given proof of the most substantial and
brilliant qualities.
A very convincing proof of the power of Gounod’s personality is the
influence which he has exerted for more than quarter of a century on the
young French school of music. The author of Faust has brought into the
art a note entirely new and unknown before him. This dreamy, poetic note
is stamped with a grace and melancholy which characterizes all of
Gounod’s work, and vainly have young musicians sought to reproduce and
tried their best to imitate the methods of a master whose genius they
did not possess, and who remained for them inimitable. Nevertheless,
this influence of Gounod is the sign and the proof of his creative
power.
One could scarcely pass over, in speaking of such an artist, his
literary proclivities, and the desire which he manifested on different
occasions to set forth his ideas and the principles which he professed
in matters of art. All French musicians of the present period are
afflicted with a mania for writing. Not only great artists like Reyer
and Saint-Saëns, following the example of Berlioz, Halévy and Adolpe
Adam, undertake to criticise and make themselves the judges of their
colleagues, but the most inconsequential composer of operettas gives
himself to-day the airs of a writer, and believes himself called upon to
deliver himself of long esthetic and philosophic discussions on the art
of which he deems himself one of the noblest representatives.
Gounod has not escaped the general contagion. It is only just to state,
however, that he has not abused his pen in this connection, and that
usually it has been occasion, rather than preconceived desire, that has
caused him to take it up. The most important writing which we owe to
Gounod is the remarkable volume which he has published under the title
of “Le ‘Don Juan’ de Mozart,” in which he expresses very clearly his
profound admiration for the master, of whom he declares himself to be
one of the most ardent, respectful and faithful of disciples. In
addition to this Gounod has given to various journals or periodicals
some articles of running criticism or of musical philosophy (“De la
Routine en Matière d’Art,” “Le Public,” “La Critique,” “Les Compositeurs
Chefs d’Orchestre,” “La Propriété Artistique,” “l’Enseignement,” “La
Critique Musicale Anglaise,” “Les Pères de l’Eglise de la Musique,”
etc.) He has also given an interesting preface to the volume of “Lettres
Intimes” by Berlioz, and he has published a preface intended to
accompany his score of “George Dandin,” a score which has not yet seen
the light and perhaps never will. He enumerated and discussed in this
curious preface the reasons which led him to set prose to music—and what
prose! That of Molière; in other words, the most compact, substantial
and solid prose which it is possible to imagine. Some years since a
report was spread abroad that Gounod was preparing a book in which he
would refute the doctrines and theories of Richard Wagner. I do not know
whether he really ever conceived such a project, but if he did I regret
that he did not put it in execution. For it seems to me that whatever
might be his ideas on this subject it would be an exceedingly
interesting thing, to have an artist like Gounod express his opinions on
an artist like Wagner.
I return to Gounod the composer. However little enthusiasm his
detractors—for he has them—may feel for his genius, they are none the
less obliged to confess that genius, and the power and influence exerted
by him upon the public—a public which everywhere, in all the countries
of the world, has applauded his works. The artists who are sharply
discussed are usually the ones who possess true worth. More noble than
majestic, more tender than pathetic, more pensive than enthusiastic,
more deliberate than spontaneous, the immense talent of the author of
“Faust” glitters with a multitude of rare qualities, and in that talent
one may almost say that study, constant and indefatigable study, has as
great a part as inspiration. Not only is Gounod a fine man of letters,
well versed in the knowledge of the languages and of masterpieces, but,
from a musical point of view, few artists have, like him, been nourished
by the marrow of lions. There is no great musician whom Gounod does not
know, as it were, by heart, and he has only enthusiastic admiration for
the old masters. It was he, who, listening one day at the Conservatoire
to Beethoven’s Choral Symphony, ran up to a friend and cried, his face
all aglow and wildly waving the score, “It is the Bible of the
musician!” On another occasion when, at a certain salon, conversation
fell on music, and the proper rank of the different musicians was under
discussion, he delivered himself of the following sentiment. “If the
greatest masters, Beethoven, Haydn, Mozart, could be annihilated by an
unheard-of cataclysm, as the painters might be by fire, it would be easy
to reconstruct all the music with Bach. In the firmament of art, Bach is
a nebula which has not yet condensed.”
I have said that study is almost as great a part as inspiration in the
talent of Gounod, which may be said of all truly superior artists; one
might add that this talent acquired a very individual color from the
alliance of the artist’s almost mystic sentiments with a very keen
comprehension of the human passions and the storms of the heart. There
has remained by Gounod a sort of recollection of his first years vowed
by him to theological studies and of his leaning toward a monastic life
and the seclusion of the cloister; possibly it is this which
characterizes his genius in such a special way, which gives it its
originality, its peculiar and its exceptional flavor, although it is
difficult to determine with precision how much his artistic personality
gained and how much it lost by the influence of the ideas and
aspirations of his youth upon his later imagination.
Musically and dramatically Gounod is more of a spiritualist than
materialist, more poet than painter, more elegiac and vigorous than
deeply pathetic; this is perhaps the reason that some have pronounced
him lacking in dramatic sense. In this they are mistaken, for it is not
dramatic sense, that is to say, impassioned perception, which sometimes
fails Gounod; it is, properly speaking, temperament. But after all is
said, the author of “Faust,” of “Mireille” and of “Roméo” remains a true
poet, an inspired creator, an artist of the first rank, and if not one
of those who illumine the world with a dazzling light, at least one of
those who charm it, who touch it, who make it listen and make it think,
His part is a sufficiently beautiful one, with which he may well be
satisfied.
[Illustration: Arthur Pougin]
[Illustration: [Composer]]
PUBLISHERS’ NOTE.—Since the foregoing was written, the death of Charles
Gounod has been announced. On October 16, 1893, he was stricken with
apoplexy, and lingered until the 18th. He died at St. Cloud, and was
buried in the family vault at Auteuil.
-----
Footnote 1:
Compare Ferdinand Praeger’s “Wagner as I knew Him,” Chaps. XIV. and
XV., with “1849: A Vindication,” by W. Ashton Ellis. See also letter
of Aug. 9, 1849, to Theodore Uhlig. [Letters to Uhlig, Fischer, and
Heine, London, H. Grevel & Co.]
Footnote 2:
“Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt,” Vol. I., p. 77. H. Grevel & Co.,
London.
Footnote 3:
“You are a truly wonderful man, and your Nibelungen poem is surely the
most incredible thing which you have ever done.”—_Letter of Liszt,
Feb. 20, 1853._
Footnote 4:
See Praeger’s “Wagner as I knew Him,” Chaps. XVIII. and XIX., for full
account of this visit.
Footnote 5:
“Richard Wagner; his Life and Works,” by Adolphe Jullien. Boston, J.
B. Millet Co.
Footnote 6:
“Production of ‘Tannhäuser’ in Paris,” Wagner, translated by E. L.
Burlingame, in “Art Life and Theories of Wagner.” Henry Holt & Co.
Footnote 7:
“Wagner,” by Edward Dannreuther, in Grove’s Dictionary of Music. Also
“The ‘Parsifal’ of Richard Wagner,” by Maurice Kufferath.
Footnote 8:
“Studies in Modern Music,” by W. A. Hadow. Macmillan & Co.
Footnote 9:
“Studies in the Wagnerian Drama,” by H. E. Krehbiel. Harper & Bros.
Footnote 10:
“History of Music,” Emil Naumann, Vol. I., p. 524. Cassell & Co.
Footnote 11:
“The Music of the Future,” E. L. Burlingame’s translation.
Footnote 12:
Condensation, by F. Hueffer, of a passage from “A Communication to my
Friends.”
Footnote 13:
“Art and Revolution,” W. Ashton Ellis’s translation.
Footnote 14:
The writer of this article does not wish to be understood as agreeing
with Wagner in all the utterances quoted; the selections have been
made with the design of throwing light upon the workings of Wagner’s
mind in the formulation of his theories.
Footnote 15:
“Studies in the Wagnerian Drama.”
Footnote 16:
E. C. Stedman, “The Nature and Elements of Poetry,” p. 99.
Footnote 17:
“Preludes and Studies,” p. 112.
Footnote 18:
“Preludes and Studies,” p. 48.
Footnote 19:
See Kleinmichel piano score of “Die Walküre,” p. 304.
Footnote 20:
“From the Tone World,” by Louis Ehlert. Charles Tretbar, New York.
Footnote 21:
Article “Harmony,” in Grove’s Dictionary of Music, by C. H. H. Parry.
Footnote 22:
See articles on “Music in Italy,” and on the Netherland masters.
Footnote 23:
A complete edition of Buxtehude’s works has recently been published in
Leipzig.
Footnote 24:
Mozart, it will be remembered, saw none of Bach’s choral works until
two years before his death.
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