or rather the mutilated version of this masterpiece by Castil-Blaze
known under the name of "Robin des Bois." The impression produced upon
his youthful mind by Weber's beautiful melodies appears to have been
very great. A few years later, when a schoolboy, he heard Rossini's
"Otello" interpreted by Malibran and Rubini, and the Italian "maestro's"
florid strains seem to have struck him in an equal degree. His
enthusiasm, however, reached its highest pitch when he became acquainted
with "Don Giovanni." He has ever since been an ardent devotee at the
shrine of Mozart, and of late years his admiration for the master's
music seems, if anything, to have increased.
Having had the misfortune to lose his father at an early age, he was
brought up under the care of his mother. His first studies in
composition were pursued under Reicha, one of the most celebrated
theorists of the time; and having completed his general education at the
college of St. Louis, he entered the classes of the Conservatoire in
1836, receiving instruction in counterpoint from Halévy, and in
composition from Lesueur. In 1839 he obtained the "Grand prix de Rome,"
and soon afterwards left for Italy. During his sojourn in Rome Gounod
devoted himself largely to the study of religious music, and spent a
great portion of his time in perusing the works of Palestrina and Bach.
Whilst residing at the famous Villa Médicis he made the acquaintance of
Fanny Hensel, the sister of Mendelssohn, in whose correspondence may be
found several interesting details concerning the future composer of
"Faust."
In a letter dated April 23, 1840, she writes: "Gounod has a passion for
music; it is a pleasure to have such a listener. My little Venetian air
delights him; he has also a predilection for the Romance in B Minor
composed here at Rome, for the duet of Felix, his 'Capriccio' in A
minor, and especially for the concerto of Bach, which he has made me
play more than ten times over." Later on, in another letter, she writes
as follows: "On Saturday evening I played to my guests, and performed,
amongst other things, the Concerto of Bach; although they know it by
heart, their enthusiasm goes 'crescendo.' They pressed and kissed my
hands, especially Gounod, who is extraordinarily expansive; he always
finds himself short of expressions when he wishes to convey to me the
influence I exercise over him, and how happy my presence makes him. Our
two Frenchmen form a perfect contrast: Bousquet's nature is calm and
correct, Gounod's is passionate and romantic to excess. Our German music
produces upon him the effect of a bomb bursting inside a house."
In June 1840 Fanny Hensel and her husband left for Naples. The following
extract from a letter is interesting, as showing to what extent, even at
that early period, Gounod had become imbued with religious ideas:
"Bousquet confided to us on the way his fears concerning the religious
exaltation of Gounod since he had come under the ascendancy of the Père
Lacordaire ... whose eloquence had already during the previous winter
grouped around him a number of young men. Gounod, whose character is
weak and whose nature is impressionable, was at once gained over by
Lacordaire's stirring words; he has just become a member of the
association entitled 'John the Evangelist,' exclusively composed of
young artists who pursue the regeneration of humanity through the means
of art. The association contains a large number of young men belonging
to the best Roman families; several amongst these have abandoned their
career in order to enter into holy orders. Bousquet's impression is that
Gounod is also on the point of exchanging music for the priest's garb."
In 1843 we find Gounod in Vienna, where a "Requiem" of his composition
attracted some attention. On his return to Paris he vainly endeavoured
to find a publisher for some songs he had composed while at Rome. When
we hear that these included "Le Vallon," "Le Soir," "Jésus de Nazareth,"
and "Le Printemps"--that is to say, some of the most beautiful
inspirations that have emanated from his brain--it becomes difficult to
account for the obtuseness of the publishers.
Discouraged in this quarter, Gounod devoted his attention once more to
religious music, and accepted the post of organist to the chapel of the
"Missions Etrangères." He even entertained the idea of entering into
holy orders. Happily this was not to be. The name of Gounod was becoming
known in musical circles, and through the influence of Mme. Viardot, the
celebrated singer, sister of Malibran, the young composer was
commissioned to write the music of an opera to a book by Emile
Augier,[12] for the "Académie Nationale." This, his first contribution
to the lyric stage, was "Sapho," which was brought out in 1851, without,
however, achieving much more than a _succès d'estime_. It was revived in
a curtailed form seven years later, and finally, remodelled and
enlarged, was reproduced in 1884. Notwithstanding its failure to attract
the public, "Sapho" commanded the approbation of many competent judges,
amongst whom we find no less a musician than Berlioz, who thus expressed
himself upon the composer's merits: "M. Gounod is a young musician
endowed with precious qualities, whose tendencies are noble and
elevated, and whom one should encourage and honour, all the more so as
our musical epoch is so corrupt."
"Sapho" is by no means the worst opera Gounod has composed, though
unequal as a whole. The original version remains the best.
The year after the production of "Sapho" Gounod married a daughter of
Zimmermann,[13] a well-known musician and professor.
His next venture was at the Théâtre Français, for which he wrote
incidental music to "Ulysse," a tragedy by Ponsard. A detail to note is
that the orchestra was conducted by Offenbach. Although the music to
this was universally praised, it did not suffice to save the piece from
dire failure. "La Nonne Sanglante," a five-act opera, founded upon a
novel by Monk Lewis, produced in 1854, was even less successful than
"Sapho." At the same time, the press was sufficiently favourable, and
Gounod's reputation, though awaiting its final consecration, was at any
rate on the increase. It is as well to mention here the success achieved
in London of some religious compositions of Gounod's at a concert given
in 1851, which called forth an enthusiastic article in the _Athenæum_.
The year 1855 witnessed the production of one of the master's most
individual works, the "Messe de Ste. Cécile," the popularity of which
has remained unabated on both sides of the Channel, and which furnishes
perhaps the most typical example of his genius in this particular line.
Mons. Pagnerre, Gounod's biographer, very rightly considers this as
occupying the same position in regard to his religious as "Faust" does
to his dramatic works.
For years Gounod had cherished the desire of setting Goethe's "Faust" to
music, and in 1855 he mentioned the subject to the librettists Michel
Carré and Jules Barbier, who immediately set to work and provided the
required text. Circumstances, however, combined to prevent him from
completing his work, and Mons. Carvalho, then director of the Théâtre
Lyrique, having suggested something of a lighter description, Gounod
interrupted his labours, and in five months completed the score of "Le
Médecin Malgré Lui," an operatic version of Molière's comedy, which was
performed for the first time on January 15, 1858. This little opera is a
perfect gem of delicate fancy and refined humour. It affords a proof of
what can be achieved with limited means by a true artist, and how
burlesque situations are susceptible of being treated without a
suspicion of vulgarity or triviality. Berlioz well defined its true
worth when he wrote: "Everything in this comic opera is pretty, piquant,
fresh, spontaneous; there is not a note too much nor a note too little."
It has frequently been performed in England under the title of "The Mock
Doctor."
We now approach the culminating point in the composer's career. The
score of "Faust" was almost finished in October 1857, and Gounod was
said to be at work upon a grand opera entitled "Ivan the Terrible,"
which was never completed, or at all events never played. The composer
utilised several portions thereof in other operas: the celebrated
soldier's march in "Faust" was originally composed for the above work.
"Faust" was first performed at the Théâtre Lyrique on the 19th of March
1859, with the following cast: Faust, Barbot; Mephistophéles, Balanqué;
Valentin, Reynald; Siebel, Mdlle. Faivre; Marguerite, Mme. Carvalho. It
was transferred to the Grand Opéra in 1869, with certain alterations,
including new ballet music for the fifth act, when it was interpreted by
Colin, a young tenor of great talent and promise, who was destined to
die prematurely not long after; Faure, unsurpassed as Mephistophéles;
Devoyod, Mdlle. Mauduit, and Mme. Nilsson, the best of Marguerites.
The success of "Faust" did not for some time assume anything like the
proportions it was destined to attain later on, and the following
extracts from some of the criticisms of the day may not be
uninteresting. Berlioz was on the whole distinctly favourable to his
young rival's work, and his appreciation, coming from one who had
himself sought for inspiration from the same source, acquires thereby
additional importance. According to him, the most remarkable portion of
the score is the monologue of Marguerite at her window, which closes the
third act. In this it is probable that many will now agree.
Scudo,[14] the once famous critic of the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, was
less favourable than Berlioz, although he admitted the work to be
thoroughly distinguished; "but," he added, "the musician has not seized
the vast conception of the German poet; he has not sufficiently
succeeded in appropriating unto himself the epic force of Goethe, to
render any new attempt impossible." In this, Scudo was perhaps not
altogether wrong. As, however, he always showed himself the
uncompromising opponent of Berlioz, Wagner, and the newer school of
musical thought, his judgment loses some of its weight, and it is not
surprising that he should have pronounced the soldier's march to be a
masterpiece, whilst failing to recognise the beauty of the garden scene.
Strangely enough, neither Berlioz nor Scudo, judging the work from such
different standpoints, were in any way impressed by the musical beauties
or dramatic force of the prison scene. Jouvin, the critic of the
_Figaro_, whilst praising the second and fourth acts, thought the third
monotonous and lengthy. On the other hand, the critic of the
_Illustration_ considered this as the finest. Scudo having died in 1864,
he was succeeded on the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ by Blaze de Bury, who
proved even more hostile to Gounod than his predecessor.
"Faust" was first performed in London under Col. Mapleson's _régime_, in
1864, with the following cast: Mme. Titiens, Marguerite; Mme. Trebelli,
Siebel; Giuglini, Faust; Gassier, Mephistophéles; Santley, Valentine.
Signor Arditi was the conductor.
Later on, during the same season, it was given at Covent Garden and
interpreted as follows: Mme. Miolan-Carvalho, Marguerite; Mme. Nantier
Didier, Siebel; Tamberlik, Faust; Faure, Mephistophéles; Graziani,
Valentine.
Since then, the number of singers who have appeared in this unique work
has been very great. There probably does not exist a _prima donna_ who
has not enacted the part of Marguerite; and "Faust" has usurped the
place formerly occupied by "La Sonnambula" as the _débutante's_ opera.
In his amusing Memoirs, Colonel Mapleson gives an entertaining account
of the production of "Faust" in London.
Finding that there appeared to be a lack of public interest in the new
work, discernible through the fact that only £30 worth of seats had been
disposed of for the first night, he adopted the bold and singular course
of distributing the tickets for the first three performances far and
wide, and giving out that the house was sold out. He then put an
advertisement in the _Times_, stating that, "in consequence of a death
in the family, two stalls for the first representation of 'Faust,' the
opera that had excited so much interest that all places for the first
three representations had been bought up, could be had at 25_s._ each."
The success of this stratagem appears to have been complete. Public
curiosity was aroused, and the triumphant career of "Faust" in this
country was begun.
The success "Faust" has achieved all the world over is probably
unprecedented in operatic annals.
Gounod is said to have got only £40 for the English rights, and he was
deemed lucky to get even that.
It would appear to be an impossibility for a composer to succeed in
pleasing every one, and although perhaps "Faust" possesses this gift as
much as any other operatic work, yet it is not surprising that it should
have been criticised adversely from many varied points of view. That it
should have proved distasteful to Wagner is but natural, considering the
fact that the "libretto" must have seemed to the German master a
desecration of Goethe's poem, even as much as the book of "Guillaume
Tell" was a parody of Schiller's play.
Amongst the most singular appreciations of "Faust" is that emitted by
Blaze de Bury, who qualifies it as an "Italian" opera!
As a contrast to this, several others have commented upon the composer's
German tendencies, and the names of Mendelssohn and Schumann have been
freely mentioned as furnishing the source of his inspiration. In point
of fact, "Faust" is neither German nor Italian, but French, essentially
French in its melody, essentially French in its harmony. The few
unmistakable reminiscences of Mendelssohn do not detract from this any
more than does the undoubted influence in many places of Meyerbeer. Of
Schumann I can find but few if any traces. On the other hand, the work
bears the stamp throughout of Gounod's own individuality. It is not an
occasional reminiscence or a passing thought that suffices to class a
work as belonging to any special school, but rather its general
characteristics. Those who want a typical German Faust must go to
Schumann, whilst those who prefer Goethe as seen through Italian
spectacles can apply to Boïto. As regards the essentially Gallic
interpretations of Berlioz and Gounod there can be no question.
Probably no legend has ever been turned to such account by poet,
dramatist, and musician as that of "Faust." The fascination of the
story, whether looked at in its philosophical or purely romantic aspect
has proved irresistible to many generations. The original Faust appears
to be a mythical personage, who in some form or another has figured in
the folk-lore of all nations, and is not to be confounded with Faust, or
Fust, the printer. An individual of this name is mentioned by Melancthon
in his "Table Talk" as having been a professor of magic at Cracow, and a
great traveller, who had startled the inhabitants of Venice by flying
through the air. The Reformer pleasantly alludes to this person as
"Turpissima bestia et cloaca multorum diabolorum." The existence of this
Faust at Cracow is further corroborated by Wierns in 1588, a year later
than the publication of the earliest version of the Faust legend by
Spiess. It is upon this last that Marlowe founded his "Dr. Faustus,"
which was brought out in the following year. The long narrative of the
story by Widman appeared in 1599. In all these versions the character of
Marguerite is absent. It was reserved for Goethe to evolve this
beautiful conception from his brain.[15]
Since the appearance of the great German poet's masterwork, the subject,
as treated by him, has been utilised in various manners by numberless
musicians. It would perhaps not be uninteresting to cast a glance at
some of these. The following composers had preceded Gounod in making use
of "Faust" as an opera text: Lickl (1815), Strauss (1814), Spohr (1814),
Seyfried (1820), Béancourt (1827), Sir Henry Bishop (1825), Lindpaintner
(1831), Mdlle. Berlin (1831), Rietz (1837), and Gordigiani (1837).[16]
What has become of all these works? _Chi lo sa?_ The only one that has
in any way survived is that by Spohr, extracts from which are still
occasionally heard in the concert-room. Boïto's "Mefistofele" belongs of
course to a subsequent period. It redounds greatly to the credit of the
Italian composer that he should have succeeded in imposing a new
operatic setting of Goethe's poem when this was so intimately associated
in most people's minds with the music of Gounod.
Although strangely unequal, "Mefistofele" is nevertheless in many ways a
highly remarkable work, particularly as marking a departure from the
usual methods peculiar to Italian composers, and aiming at a higher
ideal. It has born fruit. Boïto is a poet as well as a musician, and in
his operatic adaptation of "Faust" he has evidently striven to depart
as little as possible from Goethe's plan. This is of course commendable.
Unfortunately, the result has not been altogether satisfactory, for in
endeavouring to compress the two "Fausts" of Goethe into one work, the
Italian composer has been compelled to make a selection from the
different situations occurring in the original, and has only succeeded
in presenting a succession of scenes strung together apparently without
rhyme or reason. A proper sub-title for "Mefistofele" would be, "A
selection of scenes from the two Fausts of Goethe, operatically treated
by A. Boïto." Certainly the librettists of Gounod's opera have shown but
scant regard for Goethe's intentions, but they have at any rate
concocted a story with a well-regulated and dramatically logical plot.
Boïto, on the other hand, in his evident desire to do justice to Goethe,
has attempted too much and achieved too little. "Qui trop embrasse, mal
étreint." This has been the case with Boïto. Many people have tried to
discover a philosophical meaning, and the realisation of a quantity of
abstract notions in Boïto's music, which only exist in their
imagination. Perhaps the three composers who have best grasped the
spirit of the wonderful poem have been Schumann, Liszt, and Wagner: the
first in his "Scenes from Faust," the second in his "Faust Symphony,"
the third in his "Faust Overture." Gounod has been more successful in
this respect than many people are inclined to allow. It is only
necessary to point to the first bars of the Prelude and the commencement
of the first act as a proof of this fact.
Of late years Berlioz's "Damnation de Faust" has acquired a
well-deserved though tardily-bestowed popularity. It was considered by
the composer as one of his best works, a judgment which has since then
received a practically universal endorsement. At the same time, it is
rather by reason of its own individuality than as a satisfactory
interpretation of Goethe, that the above "dramatic legend" is entitled
to the high rank it occupies in the esteem of musicians, and much of
the effect produced by this extraordinary composition can in a large
measure be assigned to the glamour shed over it by the wonderful
orchestral colouring that Berlioz knew so well how to employ, his
mastery of which will probably remain his chief glory with posterity.
Berlioz states that the score of his "Faust" was composed by him with an
amount of facility that he rarely experienced in connection with his
other works. The famous march on a Hungarian theme was written by him in
one night. "The extraordinary effect," he writes, "that it produced at
Pesth decided me to introduce it into the score of 'Faust,' in taking
the liberty of placing my hero in Hungary at the outset of the work, and
causing him to assist at the passing of a Hungarian army across the
plain where he is indulging in dreamy thoughts." Berlioz excuses this
liberty by stating that in composing his "Faust" he had never intended
to bind himself into following the plan adopted by Goethe in his
masterpiece. This specious sort of argument is all very well in its way,
and the adoption of similar methods might prove of infinite service to
composers in enabling them to utilise previously-written works, and
thereby save themselves trouble. Whether it is artistic or not, is
another matter. If we suppose, for instance, that Berlioz had had by him
a "Tarantella" and an Irish jig, he might have transported his hero
alternately to Italy and to Erin, and named his work "The Travels of
Faust," which at any rate would not have been open to the same objection
as the original title chosen by him. Despite these casual observations
and the fact that, looked at from the point of view of a satisfactory
interpretation of Goethe's poem, the work falls short, Berlioz's "Faust"
none the less remains one of its author's most inspired compositions;
beautiful in parts, though needlessly eccentric in others; powerful,
and, above all, eminently individual.
If the "Faust" of Berlioz may be ranked as one of its author's best
works, the same place of honour can undoubtedly be ascribed to the
"Scenes from Faust" of Schumann in the lengthy catalogue of the master
of Zwickau's compositions, and it is strange that so few opportunities
should be afforded to Londoners of appreciating its beauties. The second
part of this work is generally considered by musicians as being the most
remarkable, but Schumann's setting of the Church scene counts amongst
his finest inspirations. The overture is the weakest portion, and cannot
compare with Wagner's masterly tone-poem known as "Eine Faust
Ouverture," one of the most striking examples of modern orchestral
music. I must not omit to mention the "Faust Symphony" of Liszt, which
is also too seldom performed, probably on account of its length and
extreme difficulty, also possibly owing to the uncompromising hostility
entertained in certain quarters against the master's music. Although
consisting of three movements--labelled respectively "Faust,"
"Marguerite," and "Mephistophéles," the work in question might rather
come under the category of a "symphonic poem." It is constructed upon
entirely unconventional lines, the themes being subjected to various
transformations, after the method peculiar to Liszt. The second portion
is one of the most beautiful movements in the entire range of
instrumental music.
The following composers have also treated the same subject more or less
successfully: Prince Radziwill, Litolff, Hugo Pierson, Zöllner, and
Eduard Lassen.[17] The latter's incidental music is constantly given in
Germany in conjunction with the drama. As this is the age of festivals,
I should like to suggest to the minds of those responsible in such
matters the feasibility of attempting what might be termed a "Faust"
festival. This could be made to occupy the inside of a week, and would
be devoted entirely to works inspired by Goethe's poem. I venture to
think that the idea is susceptible of being turned to good account. Many
musical treasures, the existence of which is unsuspected, would thereby
come to light.
It would appear to be almost needless to attempt to give a description
of the music that Gounod has wedded to Messrs. Michel Carré and Jules
Barbier's operatic version of "Faust." That it is perhaps the most
popular opera composed during the last fifty years is a generally
recognised fact, and one that is not likely to be seriously contested,
whatever restrictions may be made from different points of view
concerning its merits. Since it was first produced, a new generation has
sprung up, and what appeared startlingly bold thirty years ago has long
ceased to be so considered. In 1859 matters were very different from
what they now are. The operatic _pabulum_ in England consisted of the
works of Balfe and Wallace. In France, Auber was at the head of the
Conservatoire; Ambroise Thomas had written neither "Mignon" nor
"Hamlet"; Clapisson, Massé, Maillart, and composers of that calibre,
enjoyed the confidence of the patrons of the Opéra Comique; whilst
Berlioz and Wagner were looked upon as musical iconoclasts.