OPERATIC DEVELOPMENT IN ITALY AND FRANCE
Italian opera at the advent of Rossini--Rossini and the
Italian operatic renaissance; _Guillaume Tell_--Donizetti and
Bellini--Spontini and the historical opera--Meyerbeer’s life and
works--His influence and followers--Development of _opéra comique_;
Auber, Hérold, Adam.
Operatic development in Italy and France during the first half of the
nineteenth century represents, broadly speaking, the development of the
romantic ideal by Rossini and Meyerbeer; a breaking away from classic
and traditional forms; and the growth of individual freedom in musical
expression. Rossini, as shown by subsequent detailed consideration of
his works and the reforms they introduced, overthrows the time-honored
operatic conventions of his day and breathes new life into Italian
dramatic art. Spontini, ‘the last great classicist of the lyric stage,’
nevertheless forecasts French grand opera in his extensive historical
scores. And French grand opera (as will be shown) is established
as a definite type, and given shape and coherence by Rossini in
_Tell_, by Meyerbeer in _Robert_, _Les Huguenots_, _Le Prophète_, and
_l’Africaine_.
In this period the classical movement, interpreting in a manner the
general trend of musical feeling in the eighteenth century, merges
into the romantic movement, expressing that of the nineteenth. A
widespread, independent rather than interdependent, musical activity
in many directions at one and the same time explains such apparent
contradictions as Beethoven and Rossini, Schubert, Cherubini, Spontini,
Weber and Meyerbeer, all creating simultaneously. To understand the
operatic reforms of Rossini and their later development a _résumé_
of the leading characteristics of the Italian opera of his day is
necessary.
As is usually the case when an art-form has in the course of time
crystallized into conventional formulas, a revolution of some sort
was imminent in Italian opera at the beginning of the nineteenth
century. In France Gluck had already banished from his scores the
dreary _recitativo secco_, and extended the use of the chorus. The
_opéra comique_ had come to stay, finding its most notable exponents
in Grétry, Méhul, and Boieldieu. Cherubini’s nobly classic but cold
and formal scores gave enjoyment to a capital which has at nearly all
times been independent and self-sufficient. Mozart, in _Zauberflöte_,
had already unlocked for Germany the sacred treasures of national
art, and Weber,[66] following the general trend of German poetry and
fiction, had inaugurated the romantic opera, a musical complement
of the romantic literary movement, to which he gave its finest and
fullest expression. Utilizing fairy tale and legend, he had secured for
opera ‘a wider stage and an ampler air,’ and no longer relegating the
beauties of Nature to the background, but treating them as an integral
part of his artistic scheme, he laid the foundation upon which was
eventually to rise the modern lyric drama.
But in Italy, beyond innate refinement of thought and grace of style,
the composers whose names are identified with what was best in opera
during the closing years of the eighteenth century had nothing to
say. Cimarosa, Paesiello, Piccini (the one-time rival of Gluck)
were prolific writers of the sort of melodious opera which had once
delighted all Europe and still enchanted the opera-mad populace of
Naples, Florence, Rome, and Venice. They had need to be prolific
at a time when, as Burney says, an opera already heard was ‘like a
last year’s almanac,’ and when Venice alone could boast thirteen
opera houses, public and private. Each had to compose unremittingly,
sometimes three or even four operas a year, and it is hardly surprising
that their works, for all their charm, were thin and conventional
in orchestration, and had but scant variety of melodic line. The
development of the symphonic forms of _aria_ and _ensemble_ by Mozart,
the enlargement of the orchestra, and the exaggerated fondness for
virtuoso singing encouraged these defects, and gave these Italian
composers ‘prosaically golden opportunities of lifting spectators and
singers to the seventh heaven of flattered vanity.’ There was little or
no connection between the music and its drama. Speaking generally, the
operatic ideals of Italy were those of old Galuppi, who, when asked to
define good music, replied: ‘_Vaghezza, chiarezza e buona modulazione_’
(vagueness, tenderness, and good modulation).
With all its faults the music of these eighteenth century masters
excelled in a certain gracious suavity. Cimarosa, Paesiello and their
contemporaries represent the perfection of the older Italian _opera
buffa_, the classical Italian comic opera with secco-recitative,
developed by Logroscino, Pergolesi, and Jommelli, a form which then
reigned triumphant in all the large capitals of Europe. In the more
artificial _opera seria_ as well Cimarosa and Paesiello in particular
achieved notable successes, and their works are the link which connects
Italian opera with the most glorious period the lyric drama has known
since the elevation of both Italian and German schools. But the
criticism of the Abbé Arnaud, who said, ‘These operas, for which their
drama is only a pretext, are nothing but concerts,’ is altogether just.
The reforms of Gluck and the romantic movement in Germany in no
wise disturbed the trend of Italian operatic composition. Weber’s
influence was negligible, for Italian operatic composers were, as a
rule, indifferent to what was going on, musically, outside their own
land. Those who, like Francesco Morlacchi (1784-1841) or the Bavarian
Simon Mayr (1763-1845), were brought into contact with Weber or his
works, showed their indebtedness to him rather in their endeavors to
secure broader and more interesting harmonic development of their
melodies and greater orchestral color than in any direct working
out of his ideals. But one native Italian was destined to exert an
influence, the constructive power of which, within the confines of
his own land, equalled that exerted by Weber in Germany. The time
was at hand when in Italy, the citadel of operatic conventionality
and formalism, a reaction against vapidity of idea, affectation, and
worn-out sentimentality was to find its leaders in Rossini, the ‘Swan
of Pesaro,’ and his followers and disciples, Bellini and Donizetti.
I
Gioacchino Antonio Rossini, his father a trumpeter, his mother a
baker’s daughter, was born in Pesaro, February 29, 1792, and had
his first musical instruction, on the harpsichord, from Prinetti, a
musician of Novara, who played the scale with two fingers only and
fell asleep while giving lessons. He soon left his first teacher, but
when, at the age of fifteen, he was admitted to the counterpoint class
of Padre P. S. Mattei, he read well at sight, and could play both
the pianoforte and the horn. At the Conservatory of Bologna, under
Cavedagni, he also learned to play the 'cello with ease.
His insight into orchestral writing, however, came rather from the
knowledge he gained by scoring Haydn’s and Mozart’s quartets and
symphonies than from Mattei’s instruction. For counterpoint he never
had much sympathy; but, though the stricter forms of composition did
not appeal to him, he was well enough grounded in the grammar of his
art to enable him at all times to give the most effective expression to
the delicious conceptions which continually presented themselves to his
mind.
In 1808 the Conservatory of Bologna awarded him a prize for his cantata
_Il pianto d’armonia per la morte d’Orfeo_, and two years later the
favor of the Marquis Cavalli secured the performance of his first
opera, _Il cambiale di matrimonio_, at Venice. Rossini now produced
opera after opera with varying fortune in Bologna, Rome, Venice, and
Milan. The success of _La pietra del paragone_ (Milan, 1812), in which
he introduced his celebrated _crescendo_,[67] was eclipsed by that of
_Tancredi_ (Venice, 1813), the only one among these early works of
which the memory has survived. In it the plagiarism to which Rossini
was prone is strongly evident; it contains fragments of both Paer
and Paesiello. But the public was carried away with the verve and
ingenuity of the opera, and the charm of melodies like _Mi rivedrai, ti
rivedrò_, which, we are told, so caught the public fancy that judges
in the courts of law were obliged to call those present to order for
singing it. Even the arrival of the Emperor Napoleon in Venice, which
took place at the time, could not compete in popular interest with the
performances of _Tancredi_. In 1814 Rossini’s _Il turco in Italia_ was
heard in Milan, and in the next year he agreed to take the musical
direction of the Teatro del Fondo at Naples, with the understanding
that he was to compose two operas every year, and in return to receive
a stipend of 200 ducats (approximately one hundred and seventy-five
dollars) a month, and an annual share of the gaming tables amounting to
one thousand ducats (eight hundred and seventy-five dollars)!
In Naples the presence of Zingarelli and Paesiello gave rise to
intrigue against the young composer, but all opposition was overcome
by the enthusiastic manner in which the court received _Elisabetta,
regina d’Inghilterra_, set to a libretto by Schmidt, which anticipated
by a few years the incidents of Scott’s ‘Kenilworth.’ As in _La
pietra del paragone_, Rossini had first made effective use of the
_crescendo_, so in _Elisabetta_ he introduced other innovations. The
classic _recitative secco_ was replaced by a recitative accompanied by
a quartet of strings.[68] And for the first time Rossini wrote out the
‘ornaments’ of the arias, instead of leaving them to the fancy of the
singers, on whose good taste and sense of fitness he had found he could
not depend.
A version by Sterbini of Beaumarchais’ comedy, _Le Barbier de Seville_,
furnished the libretto for his next opera. Given the same year at Rome,
at first under the title of _Almaviva_, it encountered unusual odds.
Rome was a stronghold of the existing conventional type of Italian
opera which Rossini and his followers in a measure superseded. There,
as elsewhere, Paesiello’s _Barbiere_ had been a favorite of twenty-five
years’ standing. Hence Rossini’s audacity to use the same libretto was
so strongly resented that his opera was promptly and vehemently hissed
from the stage. But had not Paesiello himself, many years before, tried
to dim the glory of Pergolesi by resetting the libretto of _La serva
padrona_? Perhaps Italy considered it a matter of poetic justice, for
the success of Rossini’s _Barbiere di Siviglia_, brightest and wittiest
of comic operas, was deferred no longer than the second performance,
and it soon cast Paesiello’s feebler score into utter oblivion.
Of the twelve operas which followed from Rossini’s pen between 1815
and 1823, _Otello_ (Rome, 1816) and _Semiramide_ (Venice, 1823)
may be considered the finest. In them the composer’s reform of the
_opera seria_ culminated. ‘William Tell’ belongs to another period
and presents a wholly different phase of his creative activity. In
the field of _opera buffa_, _La Cenerentola_ (Cinderella), given in
Rome in 1817, is ranked after _Il barbiere_. It offers an interesting
comparison with Nicolo Isouard’s[69] _Cendrillon_. In the French
composer’s score all is fragrant with the atmosphere of fairyland and
rich in psychic moods; in Rossini’s treatment of the same subject all
is realistic humor and dazzling vocal effect. He accepted the libretto
of _Cenerentola_ only on condition that the supernatural element
should be omitted! It is the last of his operas which he brought to a
brilliant close for the sake of an individual _prima donna_.
_La gazza ladra_, produced in Milan the same year, was long considered
Rossini’s best work. It is characteristic of all that is best in his
Italian period. The tuneful overture with its _crescendo_--with the
exception of the _Tell_ overture the best of all he has written--arias,
duets, ensembles, and finales are admirable. The part-writing in the
chorus numbers is inferior to that of none of his other works. Two
romantic operas, _Armida_ (1817)--the only one of Rossini’s Italian
operas provided with a ballet--and _Ricciardo e Zoraide_ (1818), both
given in Naples, are rich in imagination and contain fine choral
numbers.
In 1820 the Carbonarist revolution, which drove out
King Ferdinand IV, ruined Rossini’s friend Barbaja and induced Rossini
to visit Vienna. On his way, in 1821, he married Isabella Colbran,
a handsome and wealthy Spanish _prima donna_, seven years older
than himself, who had taken a leading part in the first performance
of his _Elisabetta_ six years before. Upon his return to Bologna a
flattering invitation from Prince Metternich to ‘assist in the general
reëstablishment of harmony,’ took him to Verona for the opening of the
Congress, October 20, 1822. Here he conducted a number of his operas,
and wrote a pastoral cantata, _Il vero omaggio_, and some marches for
the amusement of the royalties and statesmen there assembled, and
made the acquaintance of Chateaubriand and Madame de Lieven. The cool
reception accorded his _Semiramide_ in Venice probably had something
to do with his accepting the suggestion of Benelli, the manager of
the King’s Theatre in London, to pay that capital a visit. He went to
England late in the year and remained there for five months, receiving
many flattering attentions at court and being presented to King George
IV, with whom he breakfasted _tête-à-tête_. His connection with the
London opera during his stay netted him over seven thousand pounds.
Between the years 1815 and 1823--a comparatively short space of
time--Rossini had completely overthrown the operatic ideals of Cimarosa
and Paesiello, and by sheer intelligence, trenchant vigor, marvellous
keenness in measuring the popular appetite and ability to gratify it
with novel sensations he entirely remodelled both the _opera seria_ and
the _opera buffa_.
Rossini created without effort, for nature had granted him, as she has
granted most Italian composers, the power of giving a nameless grace to
all he wrote. Yet he was more than versatile, more than merely facile.
In spite of his weakness for popular success and the homage of the
multitude, he was no musical charlatan. Even his weakest productions
were stronger than those of the best of his Italian contemporaries.
His early study of Mozart had drawn his attention to the need of
improvement in Italian methods, and, as a result, his instrumentation
was richer, and--thanks to his own natural instinct for orchestral
color--more glowing and varied than any previously produced in Italy.
In his _cantabile_ melodies he often attained telling emotional
expression, he enriched the existing order with a wider range of novel
forms and ornamentations, and he abandoned the lifeless recitative in
favor of a more dramatic style of accompanied recitation.
In the Italy of Rossini the _prima donna_ was the supreme arbiter of
the lyric stage, and individual singers became the idols of kings and
peoples. Such singers as Pasta, whose voice ranged from a to high d;
the contraltos Isabella Colbran (Rossini’s first wife) and Malibran,
who, despite the occasional ‘dead’ tones in her middle register,
never failed of an ovation when she sang in Rome, Naples, Bologna, or
Milan; Teresa Belloc, the dramatic mezzo-soprano, who was a favorite
interpreter of Rossinian rôles; Fanny Persiani, so celebrated as a
coloratura soprano that she was called _la piccola Pasta_; Henriette
Sontag, most wonderful of Rosines; and Catalani, mistress of bravura;
the tenors Rubini, Manuel Garcia, Nourrit; the basses Luigi Lablache,
Levasseur, and Tamburini, these were the sovereigns of the days
of Rossini and Meyerbeer. But their reign was not as absolute as
Farinelli’s and Senesino’s in an earlier day. The new ideas which
claimed that the singer existed for the sake of the opera, and not the
opera for that of the singer, inevitably, though slowly, reacted in the
direction of proportion and fitness.
Rossini was the first to insist on writing out the coloratura cadenzas
and fioriture passages, which the great singers still demanded, instead
of leaving them to the discretion, or indiscretion, of the artists. It
had been the custom to allow each soprano twenty measures at the end
of her solo, during which she improvised at will. As a matter of fact,
the cadenzas Rossini wrote for his _prime donne_ were quite as florid
as any they might have devised, but they were at least consistent;
and his determined stand in the matter sounded the death-knell of the
old tradition that the opera was primarily a vehicle for the display
of individual vocal virtuosity. He was also the first of the Italians
to assign the leading parts to contraltos and basses; to make each
dramatic scene one continuous musical movement; and to amplify and
develop the concerted finale. These widespread reforms culminate, for
_opera buffa_, in _Il barbiere di Siviglia_, and for _opera seria_ in
_Semiramide_ and _Otello_.
_Il Barbiere_, with its witty and amusing plot and its entertaining and
brilliant music, is one of the few operas by Rossini performed at the
present time. It gives genuine expression in music to Beaumarchais’
comedy--a comedy of gallantry, not of love--and the music is developed
out of the action of the story. So perfect is the unity of the work
in this respect that its coloratura arias, such as the celebrated
one of Rosine’s, do not even appear as a concession made to virtuoso
technique. One admirer speaks of the score, in language perhaps a
trifle exaggerated, as ‘a glittering, multicolored bird of paradise,
who had dipped his glowing plumage in the rose of the dawn and the
laughing, glorious sunshine,’ and says that ‘each note is like a
dewdrop quivering on a rose-leaf.’ Stendhal says: ‘Rossini has had the
happy thought, whether by chance or deliberate intention, of being
primarily himself in the “Barber of Seville.” In seeking an intimate
acquaintance with Rossini’s style we should look for it in this score.’
In _Otello_, which offers a suggestive contrast with the treatment
of the same subject by Verdi at a similar point of his artistic
development, the transition from _recitativo secco_ to pure recitative,
begun in _Elisabetta_, was carried to completion. Shakespeare’s tragedy
was, in a measure, ‘butchered to make a Roman holiday,’ the Roman
public of Rossini’s day insisting on happy endings, which therefore had
to be invented. And it is claimed that there are still places in Italy
in which the Shakespearian end of the story can never be performed
without interruption from the audience, who warn Desdemona of Otello’s
deadly approach. _Otello_ is essentially a melodrama. In his music
Rossini has portrayed a drama of action rather than a tragedy. There
is no inner psychological development, but an easily grasped tale of
passion of much scenic effect, though in some of the dramatic scenes
the passionate accent is smothered beneath roulades. But if the musical
Othello himself is unconvincing from the tragic point of view, in
Desdemona Rossini has portrayed in music a character of real tragic
beauty and elevation. Two great artists, Pasta and Malibran, have
immortalized the rôle--‘Pasta, imposing and severe as grief itself,’
and Malibran, more restless and impetuous, ‘rushing up trembling,
bathed in her tears and tresses.’ _Semiramide_ composed in forty days
to a libretto by Rossi,[70] gains a special interest because of its
strong leaven of Mozart. In Rossini’s own day and long afterward it
was considered his best _opera seria_, always excepting _Tell_. The
judgment of our own day largely agrees in looking upon it as an almost
perfect example of the _rococo_ style in music.
Rossini’s removal to Paris in 1824, when he became musical director of
the Théâtre des Italiens, marks the beginning of another stage of his
development, one that produced but a single opera, _Guillaume Tell_,
but that one a masterpiece.
Owing to Rossini’s activity in his new position, which he held for only
eighteen months, the technical standard of performance was decidedly
raised. Among the works he produced were _Il viaggio a Reims_ (1825),
heard again three years later in a revised and augmented version as
_Le Comte Ory_, and Meyerbeer’s _Il Crociato_, the first work of that
composer to be heard in Paris. In 1826 Charles X appointed him ‘first
composer to the king’ and ‘inspector-general of singing in France,’ two
sinecures the combined salaries of which amounted to twenty thousand
francs. Rossini, who had a keen sense of humor, is said to have been in
the habit of stopping in the street, when some pavement singer raised
his voice, or the sound of song floated down from some open window,
and whispering to his friends to be silent ‘because the inspector of
singing was busy gathering material for his next official report.’
The leisure thus afforded him gave him an opportunity to revise and
improve his older works, and to devote himself to a serious study of
Beethoven. Between 1810 and 1828 he had produced forty distinct works;
in 1829 he produced the one great score of his second period, which in
most respects outweighs all the others. It was to be the first of a
series of five operas which the king had commissioned him to write for
the Paris opera, but the overthrow of Charles X made the agreement void
in regard to the others.
The libretto of _Guillaume Tell_, which adheres closely to Schiller’s
drama, was written by Étienne Jouy and Hippolyte Bis, and further
altered according to Rossini’s own suggestions. Though the original
drama contains fine situations, the libretto was not an ideal one for
musical treatment. Musically it ranks far above any of his previous
scores, since into the Italian fabric of his own creation he had
woven all that was best in French operatic tradition. The brilliant
and often inappropriate _fioriture_ with which many of the works of
his first period were overladen gave way to a clear melodic style,
befitting the simple nobility of his subject and better qualified than
his earlier style to justify the title given him of ‘father of modern
operatic melody.’ No longer abstract types nor mere vehicles for vocal
display, his singers sang with the dramatic accents of genuine passion.
The conventional _cavatina_ was deliberately avoided. The choruses
were planned with greater breadth and with an admirable regard for
unity. The orchestration developed a wonderful diversity of color, and
breathed fresh and genuine life through the entire score. The overture,
not a dramatic preface, but a pastoral symphony in abridged form, with
the obligatory three movements--_allegro_, _andante_, _presto_; the
huntsman’s chorus; the duet between Tell and Arnold; the finale of the
first act; the prelude to the second and Matilda’s aria; the grandiose
scene on the Rütli, the festival scene and the storm scene are,
perhaps, the most noteworthy numbers.
It cost Rossini six months to compose _Guillaume Tell_, the time in
which he might have written six of his earlier Italian operas. The
result of earnest study and deep reflection, it shows both French
and German influences; something of German depth and sincerity of
expression, a good deal of French _esprit_ and dramatic truth, and the
usual Italian grace are its composite elements. The ease and fluency of
Rossini’s style persist unchanged, while he discards mere mannerisms
and rises to heights of genuine dramatic intensity he had not before
attained. The new and varied instrumental timbres he employed no doubt
had a considerable share in forming modern French composers’ taste for
delicate orchestral effects.
_Tell_ marks a transitional stage in the history of opera. It is
to be regretted that it does not also mark a transitional stage in
the composer’s own creative activity, instead of its climax. There
is interesting matter for speculation in what Rossini might have
accomplished had he not decided to retire from the operatic field
at the age of thirty-seven. After the success of _Guillaume Tell_
he retired for a time to Bologna to continue his work according to
the terms of his Paris contract--he had been considering the subject
of _Faust_ for an opera--and was filled with ambitious plans for
the inauguration of a new epoch in French opera. When, in November,
1830, he returned to Paris his agreement had been repudiated by the
government of Louis Philippe, and the interest in dramatic music had
waned. In 1832 he wrote six movements of his brilliant _Stabat mater_
(completed in 1839, the year of his father’s death) and in 1836, after
the triumph of Meyerbeer’s _Les Huguenots_, he determined to give over
operatic composition altogether. His motive in so doing has always
been more or less a mystery. It has been claimed that he was jealous
of Meyerbeer’s success, but his personal relations with Meyerbeer were
friendly. One of Rossini’s last compositions, in fact, was a pianoforte
fantasia on motives of Meyerbeer’s _L’Africaine_, the final rehearsal
of which he had attended. And after his death there was found among his
manuscripts a requiem chant in memory of Meyerbeer, who had died four
years before. Another and more probable theory is that the successive
mutilation of what he regarded as his greatest work (it was seldom
given in its complete form) checked his ardor for operatic composition.
Again, as he himself remarked to a friend, ‘A new work if successful
could not add to my reputation, while if it failed it might detract
from it.’ And, finally, Rossini was by nature pleasure-loving and fond
of the good things of life. He had amassed a considerable fortune, and
it is quite possible that he felt himself unequal to submitting again
to the strain he had undergone in composing _Tell_. He told Hiller
quite frankly that when a man had composed thirty-seven operas he
began to feel a little tired, and his determination to write no more
allowed him to enjoy the happiness of not outliving his capacity for
production, far less his reputation.
His first wife had died in 1845. In the interval between the production
of _Tell_ and his second marriage in 1847, with Olympe Pelissier (who
sat to Horace Vernet for his picture of ‘Judith and Holofernes’),
the reaction of years of ceaseless creative work, domestic troubles,
and the annoyance of his law suit against the French government had
seriously affected him physically and mentally. His marriage with Mme.
Pelissier was a happy one, and he regained his good spirits and health.
Leaving Bologna during the year of his second marriage, he remained for
a time in Florence, and in 1855 settled in Paris, where his _salon_
became an artistic and musical centre. Here Richard Wagner visited
him in 1860, a visit of which he has left an interesting record. The
_Stabat mater_ (its first six numbers composed in 1832), completed in
1842, and given with tremendous success at the Italiens; his _Soirées
musicales_ (1834), a set of album leaves for one and two voices; his
Requiem Mass (_Petite messe solennelle_), and some instrumental solos
comprise the entire output of his last forty years. He died Nov. 13,
1868, at his country house at Passy, rich in honors and dignities,
leaving the major portion of a large fortune to his native town of
Pesaro, to be used for humanitarian and artistic ends.
It has been said, and with truth, that to a considerable extent the
musical drama from Gluck to Richard Wagner is the work of Rossini.
He assimilated what was useful of the old style and used it in
establishing the character of his reforms. In developing the musical
drama Rossini, in spite of the classic origin of his manner, may be
considered one of the first representatives of romantic art. And by
thus laying a solid foundation for the musical drama Rossini afforded
those who came after him an opportunity of giving it atmosphere and,
eventually, elevating its style. ‘As a representative figure Rossini
has no superior in the history of the musical drama and his name is the
name of an art epoch.’
Rossini’s remodelling of Italian opera, representing, as it did, the
Italian spirit of his day in highest creative florescence, could not
fail to influence his contemporaries. Chief among those who followed in
his footsteps were Donizetti and Bellini. Though without the artistic
genius of their illustrious countryman, they are identified with him
in the movement he inaugurated and assisted him in maintaining Italian
opera in its old position against the increasing onslaughts from
foreign quarters.
II
Gaetano Donizetti (1798-1848) was a pupil of Simon Mayr in his native
city of Bergamo, and later of Rossini’s master, Mattei, of Bologna.
His first dramatic attempt was an _opera seria_, _Enrico conte di
Borgogna_, given successfully in Venice in 1818. Obtaining his
discharge from the army, in which he had enlisted in consequence of
a quarrel with his father, he devoted himself entirely to operatic
composition, writing in all sixty-five operas--he composed with
incredible rapidity and is said to have orchestrated an entire opera
in thirty hours--but, succumbing to brain trouble, brought on by the
strain of overwork, he died when barely fifty years of age.
He added three unaffectedly tuneful and vivacious operas to the _opera
buffa_ repertory: _La fille du régiment_, _L’Elisir d’amore_, and _Don
Pasquale_. In these he is undoubtedly at his best, for he discards
the affectations he cultivated in his serious work to satisfy the
prevailing taste of his day and gives free rein to his imagination and
his power of humorous characterization.
_La fille du régiment_ made the rounds of the German and Italian
opera houses before the Parisians were willing to reconsider their
verdict after its first unsuccessful production at the Opéra Comique
in 1840. It presents a tale of love which does not run smooth, but
which terminates happily when a high-born mother at length allows her
daughter to marry a Napoleonic officer, her inferior in birth. Though
the music is slight, it is free from pretense and unaffectedly gay.
Like Rossini, Donizetti settled in France after his reputation was
established and suited his style to the taste of his adopted country.
In a minor degree the differences between Rossini’s _Tell_ and his
_Semiramide_ are the same as those between Donizetti’s _Fille du
régiment_ and one of his Italian operas. But there parallel ends. The
‘Daughter of the Regiment’ shows, however, that Donizetti’s lighter
operas have stood the test of time better than his more serious ones.
_L’Elisir d’amore_ (Milan, 1832) also contains some spontaneous and
gracefully fresh and captivating music. The plot is childish, but
musically the score ranks with that of _Don Pasquale_ (Paris, 1843),
the plot of which turns on a trick played by two young lovers upon
the uncle and guardian of one of them. This brilliant trifle made a
tremendous success, and in it Donizetti’s gay vivacity reached its
climax. It was the last of his notable contributions to the _opera
buffa_ of the Rossinian school. Written for the Théâtre des Italiens,
and sung for the first time by Grisi, Mario, Tambarini, and Lablache,
its success was in striking contrast to the failure of _Don Sebastien_,
a large serious opera produced soon afterward.
The vogue of Donizetti’s serious operas has practically passed away.
To modern ears, despite much tender melody and occasional dramatic
expressiveness, they sound stilted and lacking in vitality. _Lucia
di Lammermoor_, founded on Scott’s tragic romance ‘The Bride of
Lammermoor’ (Naples, 1835), immensely popular in the composer’s day,
is still given as a ‘prima donna’s opera,’ for the virtuoso display of
some favorite artist. The fine sextet enjoys undiminished popularity
in its original form as well as in instrumental arrangements, but
in general the composer’s subservience to the false standard of
public taste detracts from the music. An instance is the ‘mad-scene,’
ridiculous from the dramatic standpoint, with its smooth and polished
melody, ending in a virtuoso _fioritura_ cadenza for voice and flute!
The same criticism applies to the tuneful _Lucrezia Borgia_ (Milan,
1833), which, in spite of charming melodies and occasionally effective
concerted numbers, is orchestrated in a thin and childish manner. _Anna
Bolena_ (Milan, 1830), written for Pasta and Rubini, after the good
old Italian fashion of adapting rôles to singers, and _Marino Faliero_
(1835) were both written in rivalry with Bellini, and the failure of
the last-named opera was responsible for the supreme effort which
produced _Lucia_. More important is _Linda di Chamounix_, which aroused
such enthusiasm when first performed in Vienna, in 1842, that the
emperor conferred the title of court composer on its composer. But _La
Favorita_, with its repulsive plot, which shares with _Lucia_ the honor
of being the best of Donizetti’s serious operas, is superior to _Linda_
in the care with which it has been written and in the dramatic power of
the ensemble numbers. _Spirto gentil_, the delightful romance in the
last act, is perhaps the best-known aria in the score. In _Lucia_ and
_La Favorita_ Donizetti’s melodic inspiration--his sole claim to the
favor of posterity--finds its freest and most spontaneous development.
While Donizetti had an occasional sense of dramatic effect, his
contemporary, Vincenzo Bellini (1802-1835), the son of an organist
of Catania, showed a genius which, if wanting in wit and vivacity,
had much melancholy sweetness and a certain elegiac solemnity of
expression. He had studied the works of both the German and Italian
composers, in particular those of Pergolesi, and, like Donizetti,
he fell a victim to the strain of persistent overwork. Among his
ten operas--he did not attempt the _buffa_ style--three stand out
prominently: _La Sonnambula_ (Milan, 1831), _Norma_ (Milan, 1831), and
_I Puritani_ (Paris, 1835).
_La Sonnambula_, in which the singer Pasta created the title rôle, is
an admirable example of Bellini in his most tender and idyllic mood. A
graceful melodiousness fills the score and the closing scene attains
genuine sincerity and pathos. _Norma_ (Milan, 1831), set to a strong
and moving libretto by the poet Felice Romani, is a tragedy of Druidic
Britain, and in it the composer may be considered to have reached his
highest level. At a time like the present, when the art of singing is
not cultivated to the pitch of perfection that was the standard in the
composer’s own period, a modern rendering of _Norma_, for instance,
is apt to lose in dramatic intensity, since Bellini and the other
followers of Rossini were content to provide a rich, broad flow of
_cantilena_ melody, leaving it to the singers to infuse in it dramatic
force and meaning--something which Tamburini, Rubini, and other great
Italian singers were well able to do.
_Norma_ surpasses _I Puritani_ in the real beauty and force of its
libretto, and gains thereby in musical consistency; but the latter
opera, which shows French influences to some extent, cannot be
excelled as regards the tender pathos and sweet sincerity of its
melodies, which, like those in the composer’s other works, depend on
_bel canto_ for their effect. Triumphantly successful at the Théâtre
des Italiens in Paris, 1834, this last of Bellini’s works may well have
been that of which Wagner wrote: ‘I shall never forget the impression
made upon me by an opera of Bellini at a period when I was completely
exhausted with the everlasting abstract complication used in our
orchestras, when a simple and noble melody was revealed to me anew.’ In
a manner Bellini may be considered a link between the exuberant force
and consummate _savoir-faire_ of Rossini’s French period and the more
earnest earlier efforts of Verdi.
Though Donizetti and Bellini are the leading figures in the group of
composers identified with Rossini’s operatic reforms, a few other
names call for mention here: Saverio Mercadante, who composed both
_opera seria_ and _opera buffa_--a gifted but careless writer whose
best-known work is the tragic opera _Il Giuramento_ (Milan, 1837);
Giovanni Pacini, whose _Safo_, a direct imitation of Rossini, was
most successful; and Niccolò Vaccai, better known for his vocal
exercises--still in general use--than for his once popular opera
_Giuletta e Romeo_ (Milan, 1825). Meyerbeer’s seven Italian operas,
_Romilda e Constanza_, _Semiramide riconosciuta_, _Eduardo e
Christina_, _Emma di Resburgo_, _Margherita di Anjou_, _L’Esule di
Granata_, and _Il Crociato in Egitto_, which were due directly to
the admiration he had conceived for Rossini in 1815, and of which he
afterward repented, also properly belong in this enumeration.
III
Meanwhile the reform in Italian opera associated with Rossini made
itself felt in Germany, where, in opera, the Italian style was still
supreme, by way of one of the most remarkable figures in the history of
music. Gassaro Spontini (1774-1851), the son of a cobbler of Ancona,
had studied composition at the Conservatorio dei Turichi in Naples. By
1799 he had written and produced eight operas. Appointed court composer
to King Ferdinand of Naples the same year, he was compelled to leave
that city in 1800, in consequence of the discovery of an intrigue he
had been carrying on with a princess of the court. Two comic operas,
_Julie_ and _La petite maison_ (Paris, 1804), having been hissed, he
determined to drop the _buffa_ style completely. The production of
_Milton_ (one act) in 1804 was his first gage of adherence to the
higher ideals he henceforth made his own.
He was influenced materially by an earnest study of Gluck and Mozart
and through his friendship with the dramatic poet Étienne Jouy. _La
Vestale_ (1807), his first great success, was the result of three
years of effort, and upon its performance at the Académie Impériale,
through the influence of the Empress Josephine, a public triumph, it
won the prize offered by Napoleon for the best dramatic work. In _La
Vestale_, one of the finest works of its class, Spontini superseded
the _parlando_ of Italian opera with accompanied recitative, increased
the strength of his orchestra--contemporary criticism accused him of
overloading his scores with orchestration--and employed large choruses
with telling effect. _La Vestale_ glorified the pseudo-classicism of
the French directory; _Ferdinando Cortez_, which duplicated the success
of that opera two years later, represents an attempt on the part of
Napoleon to ingratiate himself with the Spanish nation he designed to
conquer.
The same year the composer married the daughter of Érard, the
celebrated piano-maker, and in 1810 he became director of the Italian
Opera. In this capacity he paid tribute to the German influences which
had molded his artistic views by giving the first Parisian performance
of Mozart’s _Don Giovanni_ and organizing concerts at which music by
Haydn and other German composers was heard. Court composer to Louis
XVIII in 1814, he was for five years mainly occupied with the writing
of _Olympie_, set to a clumsy and undramatic libretto, which he himself
considered his masterwork, though its production in 1819 was a failure.
Five months after this disappointment, in response to an invitation
of Frederick William III of Prussia, he settled in Berlin, becoming
director of the Royal Opera, with an excellent salary and plenty of
leisure time. In spite of difficulties with the intendant, Count
Brühl, he accomplished much. _Die Vestalin_, _Ferdinando Cortez_, and
_Olympie_, prepared with inconceivable effort, were produced with
great success in 1821. But in the same year Weber’s _Freischütz_,
full of romantic fervor and directly appealing to the heart of the
German nation, turned public favor away from Spontini. In _Nourmahal_
(1822), the libretto founded on Moore’s ‘Lalla Rookh,’ and _Alcidor_
(1825) Spontini evidently chose subjects of a more fanciful type in
order to compete with Weber. His librettos were poor, however, and the
purely romantic was unsuited to his mode of thought. In _Agnes von
Hohenstaufen_, planned on a grander scale than any of his previous
scores, he reverted again to his former style. It is beyond all doubt
Spontini’s greatest work. In grandeur of style and imaginative breadth
it excels both _La Vestale_ and _Ferdinando Cortez_. So thorough-going
were Spontini’s revisions that when it was again given in Berlin in
1837 many who had heard it when first performed did not recognize it.
Spontini’s suspicious and despotic nature, which made him almost
impossible to get along with, led to his dismissal, though with titles
and salary, in 1841. Thereafter he lived much in retirement and died
in 1851. His music belonged essentially to the epic period of the first
French empire. The wearied nations, after the fall of Napoleon, craved
sensuous beauty of sound, lullabies, arias, cavatinas, tenderness,
and wit rather than stateliness and grandeur. Thus the political
conditions of the time favored Rossini’s success and, in a measure, at
Spontini’s expense. Spontini was the direct precursor of Meyerbeer,
who was to develop the ‘historical’ opera, to which the former had
given distinction, with its large lines and stateliness of detail,
its broadly human and heroic appeal, into the more melodramatic and
violently contrasted type generally known as French ‘grand’ opera.
* * * * *
Giacomo Meyerbeer (1791-1863), first known as Jacob Meyer Beer, the son
of the wealthy Jewish banker Beer, of Berlin, was an ‘infant prodigy,’
for, when but nine years old, he was accounted the best pianist in
Berlin. The first teacher to exert a decided influence on him was
Abbé Vogler, organist and theoretician, of Darmstadt, to whom he went
in 1810, living in his home and, with Carl Maria von Weber, taking
daily lessons in counterpoint, fugue, and organ playing. Appointed
composer to the court by the grand duke two years later, his first
opera, ‘Jephtha’s Vow,’ failed at Darmstadt (1811), and his second,
_Alimelek_, at Vienna in 1814. Though cruelly discouraged, he took
Salieri’s advice and, persevering, went to Italy to study vocalization
and form a new style.
In Venice Rossini’s influence affected him so powerfully that, giving
up all idea of developing a style of his own, he produced the seven
Italian operas already mentioned, with brilliant and unlooked-for
success, which, however, did not impress his former fellow student,
Weber, who deplored them as treasonable to the ideals of German art.
Meyerbeer himself, before long, regretted his defection. In fact, the
last of the operas of this Italian period, _Il Crociato in Egitto_
(Venice, 1824), is no longer so evidently after the manner of Rossini.
It was given all over Italy, in London, Paris, St. Petersburg, and
even at Rio de Janeiro. Weber considered it a sign that the composer
would soon abandon the Italian style and return to a higher ideal. The
success of _Il Crociato_ gave Meyerbeer an excellent opportunity of
visiting Paris, in consequence of Rossini’s staging it at the Italiens,
in 1826, where it achieved a triumph. The grief into which the death
of his father and of his two children plunged him interrupted for some
time his activity in the operatic field. He returned to Germany and
until 1830 wrote nothing for public performance, but composed a number
of psalms, motets, cantatas, and songs of an austerely sentimental
character, among them his well-known ‘The Monk.’ This was his second,
or German, period.
It is probable that in 1830 he planned his first distinctively French
opera, _Robert le Diable_, for which the clever librettist Eugène
Scribe wrote the book. The first performance of that work, typically
a grand romantic opera, on November 22, 1831, aroused unbounded
enthusiasm. Yet certain contemporary critics called it ‘the acme of
insane fiction’ and spoke of it as ‘the apotheosis of blasphemy,
indecency, and absurdity.’ Schumann and Mendelssohn disapproved of
it--the latter accused its music of being ‘cold and heartless’--and
Spontini, because of professional jealousy, condemned it. Liszt and
Berlioz, on the other hand, were full of admiration. There is no doubt
that text and music had united to create a tremendous impression. The
libretto, in spite of faults, was theatrically effective; the music
was pregnant, melodious, sensuously pleasing and rendered dramatic by
reason of shrill contrasting orchestral coloring. So striking was the
impression it made at the time--though from our present-day standpoint
it is decidedly _vieux jeu_--that its faults passed almost unobserved.
From the standpoint of the ideal, the work is lacking in many respects.
First intended for the _opéra comique_, its remodelling by Scribe and
Meyerbeer himself had built up a kind of romantic and symbolic vision
around the original comedy. The Robert (loyal, proud, and loving)
and Isabella (tender and kind) of the original were the same, but
the characters of Bertram and Alice had been elevated, respectively,
to the dignity of angels of evil and of good, struggling to obtain
possession of Robert’s soul, thus exalting the entire work. The change
had given the score a mixed character, somewhat between drama and
comedy, making it a romantic opera in the manner of _Euryanthe_ or
_Oberon_. Still, excess of variety in effects, the occasional lack of
melodic distinction, and want of character do not affect its forceful
expression and dramatic boldness. The influence of Rossini and of
Auber, whose _Muette de Portici_ had been given three years before, of
Gluck and Weber was apparent in _Robert le Diable_, yet as a score it
was different and in some respects absolutely novel. If Meyerbeer had
less creative spontaneity and freshness than Rossini and less ease than
Auber, in breadth of musical education he surpassed them both.
In a measure both Spontini and Rossini may be excused if they thought
that Meyerbeer, in developing their art tendencies, transformed and
distorted them. Spontini, no doubt, looked on him as a huckster who
bartered away the sacred mysteries of creative art for the sake of
cheap applause. The straightforward Rossini probably thought him
a hypocrite. And therein they both wronged him. An eclectic, ‘an
art-lover rather than an artist,’ Meyerbeer revelled in the luxury
of using every style and attempting every novelty, in order to prove
himself master of whatever he undertook. But he was undeniably honest
in all that he did, though he lacked that spontaneity which belongs
to the artist alone. And in _Les Huguenots_, his next work, first
performed in 1836, five years after _Robert_, he composed an opera
which in gorgeous color, human interest, consistent dramatic treatment
and accentuation of individual types, in force and breadth generally,
marked a decided advance on its predecessor.
_Les Huguenots_ was not a historical opera in the sense of _Tell_.
In _Tell_ Rossini showed himself as an Italian and a patriot. The
Hapsburgs of his hero’s day were the same who, at the time he wrote,
oppressed his countrymen. Gessler stood for the imperial governor of
Lombardy, his guards for Austrian soldiers; the liberty-loving Swiss
he identified with the Lombards and Venetians whose liberties were
attacked. But, though the subject of Meyerbeer’s opera is an episode
of the ‘Massacre of St. Bartholomew,’ that episode is merely used as a
sinister background, against which his warm and living characters move
and tell their story. _Les Huguenots_ may be considered Meyerbeer’s
most finished and representative score. Not a single element of color
and contrast has escaped him. In only two respects did its interest
fall short of that awakened by its predecessor. So successful had the
composer been in his treatment of the supernatural in _Robert_ that
the omission of that element now was regretted; and, more important,
the fifth act proved to be an anti-climax. The opera, when given now,
usually ends at the fourth act, when Raoul, leaping from the window
to his death, leaves Valentine fainting. In psychological truth _Les
Huguenots_ is undoubtedly superior to _Robert_. There is a double
interest: that of knowing how the mutual love of Valentine the
Catholic and Raoul the Protestant will turn out; and that of the drama
in general, _against_ which and not _out_ of which the fate of the
Huguenots is developed.
In the third act especially the opera develops a breadth and eloquence
maintained to the end. The varied shadings of this picture of Paris,
its ensembles, contrasted yet never confounded, constitute, in
Berlioz’s words, ‘a magnificent musical tissue.’ _Les Huguenots_, like
_Robert_, made the tour of the world. And, as _Tell_ was prohibited in
Austria, for political reasons, so Meyerbeer’s opera was forbidden in
strictly Catholic lands. This did not prevent its performance under
such titles as _The Guelphs_ or _The Ghibellines at Pisa_; a letter to
Meyerbeer shows that he refused an arrangement of the libretto entitled
_The Swedes before Prague_!
After _Les Huguenots_ had been produced Meyerbeer spent a number of
years in the preparation of his next works, _L’Africaine_ and _Le
Prophète_. Scribe[71] had supplied the librettos for both these works,
and both underwent countless revisions and changes at Meyerbeer’s
hands. The story of _L’Africaine_ was more than once entirely
rewritten. In the meantime the composer had accepted (after Spontini’s
withdrawal) the appointment of kapellmeister to the king of Prussia and
spent some years in Berlin. Here he composed psalms, sacred cantatas,
a secular choral work with living pictures, _Una festa nella corte di
Ferrara_; the first of his four ‘Torchlight Marches,’ for the wedding
of Prince Max of Bavaria with Princess Mary of Prussia, and a cantata
for soli, chorus and brasses, set to a poem of King Louis I of
Bavaria. In 1843 he produced _Das Feldlager in Schlesien_ (The Camp in
Silesia), a German opera, based on anecdotes of Frederick the Great,
the national hero of Prussia; which, coldly received at first, was at
once successful when the brilliant Swedish soprano, Jenny Lind, made
her first appearance in Prussia in it, as Vielka, the heroine. Three
years later he composed the incidental music for _Struensee_, a drama
written by his brother Michael. The overture is still considered an
example of his orchestration at his best.
His chief care, however, from 1843 to 1847 was bestowed on worthily
presenting the works of others at the Berlin Opera. Gluck’s _Armida_
and _Iphigenia in Tauris_; Mozart’s _Don Giovanni_, _Zauberflöte_;
Beethoven’s _Fidelio_; Weber’s _Freischütz_ and _Euryanthe_; and
Spohr’s _Faust_, the last a tribute of appreciation. He even procured
the acceptance of Wagner’s _Der fliegende Holländer_ and _Rienzi_, that
‘brilliant, showy, and effective exercise in the grand opera manner,’
whose first performance he directed in 1847.
In 1849 Meyerbeer produced _Le Prophète_ in Paris, after many months of
rehearsal. The score shows greater elevation and grandeur than that of
_Les Huguenots_, but it is marred by contradictions and inequalities of
style. In spite of its success and many undeniably beautiful sections,
it betrays a falling off of the composer’s creative power; and it
suffers from overemphasis. His two successful efforts to compete with
the composers of French _opéra comique_ on their own ground, _L’Étoile
du Nord_ and _Le pardon de Ploërmel_ (‘Dinorah’), were heard in Paris
in 1854 and 1859, respectively. _L’Étoile du Nord_ was practically _Das
Feldlager in Schlesien_, worked over and given a Russian instead of a
Prussian background. Its success was troubled by the last illness and
death of the composer’s mother, to whom he was passionately attached.
A number of shorter vocal and instrumental compositions were written
during the five years that elapsed between its _première_ and that of
his second comic opera. This, _Le Pardon de Ploërmel_, was set to a
libretto by Carré and Barbier. It is a charming pastoral work, easy,
graceful, and picturesque. Its music throughout is tuneful and bright,
but its inane libretto has much to do with the neglect into which it
has fallen.
From 1859 to 1864, besides the shorter compositions alluded to,
Meyerbeer worked on various unfinished scores: a _Judith_, Blaze
de Bury’s _Jeunesse de Goethe_, and others. He left a quantity of
unfinished manuscripts of all kinds at his death. But mainly during
this period he was busy with the score of _L’Africaine_, his last great
opera. When at length, after years of hesitation, he had decided to
have it performed and it was in active preparation at the opera, he was
seized with a sudden illness and died, May 2, 1864. He had not been
spared to witness the first performance of this which he loved above
all his other operas and on which he lavished untold pains. It was
produced, however, with regard to his wishes, April 28, 1865, and was
a tremendous success. Scribe’s libretto contains many poetic scenes
and effective situations and gave the composer every opportunity to
manifest his genius.
It is the most consistent of his works. In it he displays remarkable
skill in delineation of characters and situations. His music, in the
scenes that occur in India, is rich in glowing oriental color. Nowhere
has he made a finer use of the hues of the orchestral palette. And in
the fifth act, which crowns the entire work, he exalts to the highest
emotional pitch the noble and touching character of his heroine,
Selika, who sacrifices her love for Vasco da Gama, that the latter may
be happy with the woman he loves. In dignity and serenity the melodies
of _L’Africaine_ surpass those of the composer’s other operas. Its
music, though in general less popular than that of _Les Huguenots_,
is of a finer calibre, and the ceaseless striving after effect, so
apparent in much of his other work, is absent in this.
The worth of Meyerbeer’s talent has long been realized, despite the
fact that Wagner, urged by personal reasons, has ungratefuly called him
‘a miserable music-maker,’ and ‘a Jewish banker to whom it occurred
to compose operas.’ Granting that his qualities were those of the
master artisan rather than the master artist, admitting his weakness
for ‘voluptuous ballets, for passion torn to tatters, ecclesiastical
display, and violent death,’ for violent contrast rather than subtle
characterization, he still lives in his influence, which may be said to
have founded the melodramatic school of opera now so popular, of which
_Cavalleria rusticana_ is perhaps the most striking example. As long as
intensity of passion and power of dramatic treatment are regarded as
fitting in dramatic music his name will live. Zola’s eulogy, put in the
mouth of one of the characters in his _L’Œuvre_, rings true:
‘Meyerbeer, a shrewd fellow who profited by everything, ... bringing,
after Weber, the symphony into opera, giving dramatic expression to
the unconscious formula of Rossini. Oh, what superb evocations, feudal
pomp, military mysticism, the thrill of fantastic legend, the cries
of passion traversing history. And what skill the personality of the
instruments, dramatic recitative symphonically accompanied by the
orchestra, the typical phrase upon which an entire work is built.... An
ingenious fellow, a most ingenious fellow!’
* * * * *
The French grand opera of Rossini and Meyerbeer was the musical
expression of dramatic passionate sentiments, affording scope to every
excellence of vocal and orchestral technique and even to every device
of stage setting. It is not strange that it appealed to contemporary
composers, even Auber, Hérold, Halévy, and Adam, though more generally
identified with the _opéra comique_, attempted grand opera with varying
success.
Auber, in his _La muette de Portici_ (‘Masaniello’), given in 1828,
meets Spontini, Rossini, and Meyerbeer on their own ground with a
historical drama of considerable beauty and power. Its portrayal of
revolutionary sentiment was so convincing that its first performance
in Brussels (1830) precipitated the revolution which ended in the
separation of Holland and Belgium. Hérold united with Auber’s elegance
and polish greater depth of feeling. _Zampa_ (1831), a grand opera on a
fanciful subject, and _Le pré aux clercs_ (1832) are his best serious
operas. His early death cut short the development of his unusual
dramatic gift. Halévy even went so far as to distort his natural style
in the effort to emulate Meyerbeer. Of his grand operas, _La Juive_
(1835), _La Reine de Chypre_ (1841), _Charles VI_ (1834), _La Tempesta_
(1850), only the first, a work of gloomy sublimity, with fine melodies
and much good instrumentation, may be called a masterpiece. Adam’s few
attempts at grand opera were entirely unsuccessful, though his comic
operas enjoyed tremendous vogue.
But the influence of Rossini and Meyerbeer on grand opera has continued
far beyond their own time. The style of _La Patrie_ by Paladilhe is
directly influenced by Meyerbeer. Verdi, in his earlier works, _Guido_,
_Trovatore_, _I Lombardi_, shows traces of his methods. Gounod, in
the ‘dispute’ scene in the fourth act of _Romeo et Juliette_ likewise
reflects Meyerbeer; and Wagner was not above profiting from him whom he
most scornfully and unjustly belittled.
In summing up the contributions of Rossini and Meyerbeer to the history
of music, it may be said that their operas, and in particular those of
the latter, are a continuation and amplification of the heritage of
Gluck. Édouard Schuré says in his important work, _Le Drame Musical_:
‘The secret of the opera of Meyerbeer is the pursuit of effect for
effect’s sake.’ Yet it will be remembered that Gluck himself wrote in
the preface of his _Alceste_: ‘I attach no importance to formulas; I
have sacrificed all to the effect to be produced.’ The art of Gluck
and the art of Meyerbeer have the same point of departure, and each
is expressed in formulas which, while quite distinct and individual,
denote the highest dramatic genius. Both Rossini and Meyerbeer
increased the value of the orchestra in expressing emotion in all
its phases in connection with the drama; and helped to open the way
for the later development of French grand opera and the innovations
of Richard Wagner. Weber and Schubert had both died before Meyerbeer
began to play an important part. Succeeding Spontini and Rossini as
the dominant figure of the grand opera stage, his real successor was
Richard Wagner. But, though Rossini, Meyerbeer, and their followers
had enriched the technical resources of opera, had broadened the range
of topic and plot, yet they had not turned aside the main current of
operatic composition very far from its bed. The romantic and dramatic
tendencies which they had introduced, however, were to bear fruit more
especially in French romanticism and the development of the evolution
of the French _opéra comique_ into the _drame lyrique_.
IV
An account of the origin and development of the French _opéra comique_
as a purely national form of dramatic musical entertainment has already
been given in the chapter dealing with Gluck’s operatic reform. Here
we will briefly show its development during the period of which he have
spoken.
François-Adrien Boieldieu[72] may be considered (together with Niccolò
Isouard) the last composer of the older type of _opéra comique_, to
which his operas _Jean de Paris_ and _La dame blanche_ gave a new
and lasting distinction. As Pougin says: ‘It is positive that comic
opera, as Boieldieu understood it, was an art-work, delicate in type,
with genuine flavor and an essentially varied color.’ Boieldieu was
especially successful in utilizing the rhythmic life of French folk
song, and _La dame blanche_ has those same qualities of solid merit
and real musical invention found in the serious _opéra comique_ of
Cherubini and Méhul. In fact, it was these three composers who gave
the _genre_ a new trend. In Scudo’s words, Boieldieu’s work is ‘the
happy transition from Grétry to Hérold and, together with Méhul and
Cherubini, the highest musical expression in the comic opera field.
After Boieldieu’s time the influence of Rossini became so strong that
_opéra comique_ began to lose its character as a distinct national
operatic form.’
The influence of Rossini was especially noticeable in the work of the
group of _opéra comique_ composers, including Auber, Hérold, Halévy,
Adam, Victor Massé, Maillard, who were to prepare the way for the lyric
drama of Thomas and Gounod. The contributions of Auber, Hérold and
Halévy to the ‘historical’ or grand opera repertory have already been
mentioned in the review of operatic development in Italy and France.
Here we will only consider their work as a factor in transforming the
French comic opera of Méhul and Boieldieu into the more sentimental
and fanciful type of which the modern romantic French opera was to be
born. One fact which furthered the transition from _opéra comique_ to
_drame lyrique_ was the frequent absence of the element of farce, with
the consequent encouragement of a more poetic and romantic musical
development.
Daniel-François-Esprit Auber (1782-1871) uninterruptedly busy from
1840 to 1871,[73] and his name identified with many of the greatest
successes of the comic opera stage of his time, has been somewhat
unjustly termed ‘a superficial Rossini.’ Auber undoubtedly borrowed
from Rossini in his musical treatment of the comic, and he had little
idea of powerful ensemble effects or of polyphonic writing; but grace,
sweetness, and brilliancy of instrumentation cannot be denied him.
‘The child of Voltaire and Rossini,’ from about 1822 on he wrote
operas in conjunction with the librettist Scribe. _Fra Diavolo_ (1830)
shows Auber at his best in comic opera. ‘The music is gay and tuneful,
without dropping into commonplace; the rhythms are brilliant and
varied, and the orchestration neat and appropriate.’ Incidentally, it
might be remarked that Auber has written an opera on a subject which
since his time has appealed both to Massenet and Puccini, _Manon
Lescaut_ (1856), which in places foreshadows Verdi’s ardently dramatic
art.
In spite of Auber’s personal and professional success (not only was
he considered one of the greatest operatic composers of his day, but
also he succeeded Gossec in the Académie (1835), was director of the
Conservatory of Music (1842), and imperial _maître de chapelle_ to
Napoleon III), he was essentially modest. With more confidence in
himself than Meyerbeer he was quite as unpretentious as the latter.
Though by no means ungrateful to the artists who contributed to the
success of his works he would say: ‘I don’t cuddle them and put
them in cotton-wool, like Meyerbeer. It is perfectly logical that
he should do so. The Nourrits, the Levasseurs, the Viardot-Garcias,
and the Rogers are not picked up at street corners; but bring me the
first urchin you meet who has a decent voice and a fair amount of
intelligence and in six months he’ll sing the most difficult part I
ever wrote, with the exception of that of Masaniello. My operas are a
kind of warming-pan for great singers. There is something in being a
good warming-pan.’
Hérold’s most distinctive comic operas are _Marie_ and _Le Muletier_
(1848). The last-named is a setting of a rather spicy libretto by Paul
de Kock, the novelist whose field was that of ‘middle class Parisian
life, of _guingettes_ and _cabarets_ and equivocal adventures,’ and
was highly successful. It seems a far cry from an operetta of this
style to the romanticism of the _drame lyrique_. But if an occasional
score harked back as regards vulgarity of subject to the equivocal
popular couplets which the Comtesse du Barry had Larrivée sing for the
entertainment of the sexagenarian Louis XV at Luciennes some sixty
years before, it only serves to emphasize by contrast the trend in the
direction of a finer expression of sentiment. Halévy’s masterpiece in
comic opera is _L’Éclair_ (1835). A curiosity of musical literature,
it is written for two tenors and two sopranos, without a chorus; ‘and
displays in a favorable light the composer’s mastery of the most
refined effects of instrumentation and vocalization.’ Wagner, while
living in greatly reduced circumstances in Paris, had been glad to
arrange a piano score and various quartets for strings of Halévy’s
_Guitarrero_ (1841).
The most famous of Auber’s disciples was Adolphe-Charles Adam
(1802-1856). Adam had been one of Boieldieu’s favorite pupils and
was an adept at copying Auber’s style. Auber’s music gained or lost
in value according to the chance that conditioned its composer’s
inspiration; but it was always spiritual, elegant, and ingenious,
hiding real science and dignity beneath the mask of frivolity. Adam,
on the other hand, was an excellent imitator, but his music was not
original. He wrote more than fifty light, exceedingly tuneful and
‘catchy’ light operas, of which _Le Châlet_ (1834); _Le postillon de
Longjumeau_ (1836), which had a tremendous vogue throughout Europe; _Le
brasseur de Preston_ (1838); _Le roi d’Yvetot_ (1842), and _Cagliostro_
(1844) are the best known. Grisar, another disciple of Auber, furnishes
another example of graceful facility in writing, combined with a lack
of originality. Maillart’s (1817-1871) _Les dragons de Villars_, which
duplicated its Parisian successes in Germany under the title of _Das
Glöckchen des Eremiten_, was the most popular of the six operas he
wrote. Victor Massé (1822-1884) is known chiefly by _Galathée_ (1852),
_Les noces de Jeanette_ (1853), and _Paul et Virginie_ (1876).
F. H. M.
FOOTNOTES:
[66] Although Weber was born before Rossini (1786) and his period is
synchronous with the present chapter, it has been thought best, because
of his close connection with the romantic movement in Germany, to treat
him in the next chapter.
[67] Two measures in the tonic, repeated in the dominant, the whole
gone over three times with increasing dynamic emphasis, constituted the
famous Rossini _crescendo_.
[68] The recitatives sung by the character of Christ in Bach’s St.
Matthew Passion are so accompanied. Bach likewise wrote out the vocal
ornaments of all his arias.
[69] Nicolo Isouard is a typical character of the time. He was born
on the island of Malta, educated in Paris, showing unusual ability as
a pianist, prepared for the navy and established in trade in Naples.
Finally against his father’s wishes he became a composer. To spare his
family disgrace he wrote under the name of Nicolo. He died in Paris in
1818.
[70] Gaetano Rossi (1780-1855), an Italian librettist, quite as
prolific as Scribe and as popular as a text-writer among his own
countrymen as the latter was in Paris, wrote the book of _Semiramide_.
Among his texts were: Donizetti’s _Linda di Chamounix_ and _Maria
Padilla_; Guecco’s _La prova d’un opera seria_; Mercadante’s _Il
Giuramento_; Rossini’s _Tancredi_; and Meyerbeer’s _Crociato in Egitto_.
[71] Eugène Scribe (1791-1861) was the librettist _de mode_ of the
period. Aside from his novels he wrote over a hundred libretti,
including Meyerbeer’s _Robert_, _Les Huguenots_, _Le Prophète_,
and _L’Africaine_; Auber’s _La Muette_, _Fra Diavolo_, _Le domino
noir_, _Les diamants de la couronne_; Halévy’s _La Juive_ and _Manon
Lescault_; Boieldieu’s _Dame blanche_; and Verdi’s _Les vêpres
siciliennes_.
[72] Born, Rouen, 1775; died, near Paris, 1834.
[73] When only a boy of eleven he composed pretty airs which the
_décolletées_ nymphs of the Directory sang between waltzes at the
soirées given by Barras, and he survived the fall of the Second Empire.
_Les pantins de Violette_, a charming little score, was given at the
Bouffes four days before he died.