to mention a musical version of Molière's "Georges Dandin," which has
never been performed, and may possibly be still unfinished. The
peculiarity of this work consists in the fact of the music being
composed to Molière's actual prose. In a preface destined to precede the
above opera, Gounod has exposed his ideas with a considerable amount of
ingenuity regarding the superiority he considers that prose possesses
over verse for operatic purposes. It is to be hoped that an opportunity
may some time or other be offered to the public of judging the practical
value of these theories by the production of "Georges Dandin." According
to Gounod, the substitution of prose for verse opens to the musician "an
entirely new horizon, which rescues him from monotony and uniformity."
The question, it may be added, had already been mooted by Berlioz, who
expressed himself favourable to the employment of prose in an article
published in 1858.
There remain two important compositions of Gounod's to be mentioned,
both of which naturally possess great interest to the British public,
having been heard for the first time in England. "The Redemption," which
was produced at the Birmingham Festival of 1882, has obtained a great
and lasting success amongst us. It forms part of the current
_répertoire_ of the Royal Choral Society.
[Illustration: FACSIMILE OF AUTOGRAPH SCORE BY GOUNOD]
Gounod has preceded the score of what he terms a sacred "trilogy" with a
few explanatory words. He describes his work as being the expression of
the three great events upon which rest the existence of Christianity:
(1) The Passion and death of the Saviour; (2) His glorious life on earth
between His resurrection and ascension; (3) The diffusion of
Christianity throughout the world by the apostolical mission. These
three parts of the "trilogy" are preceded by a prologue on the Creation,
the first Fall, and the promise of a Redeemer. This is, indeed, an
ambitious programme, and it is scarcely to be wondered at that Gounod
should not have succeeded altogether in realising it. The music rarely
approaches the grandeur and depth of expression requisite for an
adequate interpretation of such a theme. It is full of sensuousness and
mystic charm, but although containing several numbers of undeniable
beauty, the effect of the work as a whole is decidedly monotonous.
Having dedicated the "Redemption" to Queen Victoria, Gounod dedicated
"Mors et Vita," a sacred "trilogy" produced at the Birmingham Festival
of 1885, to Pope Leo XIII. This companion work to the "Redemption" is at
least equally ambitious in its scope. The first part consists of a
"Requiem," the second is descriptive of the Judgment, and the last deals
with Eternal Life. Hence its title, "Mors et Vita." This work has not
obtained the same popularity in England as the "Redemption," to which I
personally am inclined to prefer it.
Having arrived thus far in the composer's life, I will have to content
myself with the bare mention of works, such as the incidental music
written by him to "Les Deux Reines," "Jeanne D'Arc," and "Les Drames
Sacrés." Gounod is also the author of two symphonies, composed at an
early stage of his career, several masses, and other religious works. As
a song-writer he has greatly distinguished himself, and his melodies
have long been the delight of vocalists all the world over. Amongst
these is one that deserves special mention and has probably done more to
popularise his name than the majority of his larger works. I allude to
the famous "Ave Maria," composed upon the first prelude of Bach. A
facetious Teuton a year or two ago published a book purporting to
contain biographies of great musicians. His sketch of Bach runs thus:
"John Sebastian Bach owes his great reputation almost entirely to the
fortunate circumstance that he received a commission to write the
accompaniment to a famous melody by Gounod. With a most incomprehensible
impertinence he also published his accompaniment, without Gounod's
melody, as a so-called 'prelude,' together with a number of small pieces
under the title of 'Wohltemperirte Clavier,' but the book had little
success, on account of its silly title, among the admirers of the
melody. His numerous sons are, to the annoyance of historians, also
called Bach."
Gounod has lately attempted to improve (?) another of Bach's preludes,
but with indifferent results. Such things are not to be repeated.
Amongst his other songs it is only necessary to mention at random such
exquisite gems as the "Serénade," "Medjé," "Le Vallon," "Le Printemps,"
"Au Printemps," "Prière," "Ce que je suis sans toi," &c., in order to
revive the most delightful recollections. Occasionally the composer of
"Faust" has been tempted to express his views upon art and artists. Of
late years he has exhibited an exuberant admiration for Mozart, upon
whose "Don Juan" he has written a pamphlet abounding in expressions of
the most dithyrambic description. In a preface to the "Lettres Intimes"
of Berlioz, he expresses his great admiration for that master. He has
also written two interesting and eulogistic notices of Saint-Saëns's
"Henry VIII." and "Ascanio."
Composers are proverbially bad judges of each other's works. This is
probably due to the fact that every composer looks upon his art from a
special point of view, and is often unable to appreciate works that are
constructed upon different lines to his own. Every one knows the manner
in which Weber and Spohr criticised Beethoven, and how Schubert was
unable to perceive the beauties of Weber's "Euryanthe." Meyerbeer fared
badly at the hands of Mendelssohn, Schumann, and Wagner. The last-named
has been freely condemned by many of his contemporaries. Nevertheless,
there is a decided attraction in hearing the opinion of one creative
artist about another, and Gounod's ideas concerning some of the great
musicians are worth recording. We are already aware of his boundless
enthusiasm for Mozart, whom he terms "the first, the only one." Bach and
Beethoven have also exercised their sway upon him, and both these
masters run the composer of "Don Giovanni" hard in Gounod's estimation.
He is reported to have one day expressed himself in the following terms
concerning Bach: "If the greatest masters, Beethoven, Haydn, Mozart,
were to be annihilated by an unforeseen cataclysm, in the same manner in
which the painters might be through a fire, it would be easy to
reconstitute the whole of music with Bach. _Dans le ciel de l'art, Bach
est une nébuleuse qui ne s'est pas encore condensée._"
According to Mdlle. de Bovet, "Rossini is in Gounod's estimation the
most limpid, broad, and lofty of lyric authors"--after Mozart be it
said. This certainly would seem to upset my theory that a composer is
not able to appreciate works conceived after different methods to his
own, for what operas could possibly be more opposed in style than say
"Semiramide" or "La Gazza Ladra" and "Faust?" Certainly, if we read the
following passage in Mdlle. de Bovet's book we find that Gounod
considers that Rossini's work "is summed up in two masterpieces of
strangely opposite character, 'Il Barbiere di Seviglia' and 'Guillaume
Tell,'" which possibly qualifies the force of the preceding passage. His
appreciation of Berlioz is curious. According to Gounod, the composer
of the "Romeo and Juliet" symphony is "fantastical and emotional; he
suffers, he weeps, he grows desperate, or loses his head. The personal
side of things seizes hold of him: he has been called the Jupiter of
music. Granted; but a Jupiter who stumbles, a god who is a slave to his
passions and his transports; but withal possessing masterly qualities: a
marvellous colourist, he handles orchestration--which is the musician's
palette--with a sure and powerful grasp. And then we come suddenly
amongst remarkable passages, upon mistakes, awkward bits, betraying a
tardy and faulty education--in short, an incomplete genius." As regards
Wagner, the composer of "Faust" prefers to keep his opinion to himself,
or at any rate only to deliver it in words the ambiguity of which fit
them for an illustration of the saying that _La parole a été donnée à
l'homme pour cacher sa pensée._
Gounod inhabits a handsome house in Paris. Mdlle. de Bovet has given the
following interesting description of his study, which I will take the
liberty of reproducing: "It is an immense apartment, rising the height
of two floors, lit by a broad window with light-stained glass; it is
panelled with oak and vaulted like a church. And is it not the sanctuary
of art? At the further extremity, on a platform reached by several low
steps, stands a large organ by Cavaillé Coll; the bellows are worked by
a hydraulic machine in the basement. A medallion representing a head of
Christ is placed in the centre of the instrument. The writing-table,
under the stained-glass window, is one of those composite ones used by
musicians, a movable keyboard sliding backwards and forwards under the
desk at will. The Renaissance mantelpiece in wood, richly carved in high
relief representing scenes of the Passion, is decorated with a bronze
medallion of Joan of Arc and massive iron ornaments. In the centre of
the room is a large grand piano by Pleyel. One side is filled with
bookcases--works on Theology and Philosophy occupying a conspicuous
place--and with musical scores; amongst these, the collection of
ancient ones inherited by Gounod from his father-in-law is extremely
valuable." "In this immense room," writes Mons. Pagnerre, "the author of
'Faust' can often be seen, clad in black velvet, with a loose cravat
round his neck, and his feet imprisoned in small slippers fit for a
woman. There is ever something feminine about Gounod. His conversation
is charming and persuasive. The musician is a witty and eloquent
conversationalist. His physiognomy is mobile, his voice is soft, and
when he speaks it is like music."
The individuality of a great composer is ever attractive to his
admirers, and when in addition to his gifts as a creator he possesses
that peculiar qualification known as "personal magnetism," their
enthusiasm occasionally causes them to outstep the bounds of
common-sense. It is especially members of the fair sex who are prone to
indulge in exaggerated expressions of hero-worship. The emotional nature
of music causes it to appeal to their minds with such intensity that
they make a fetish of their idol, and fall down and worship not only
him but everything he touches and looks upon. There are plenty of most
amusing incidents on record which might be cited in support of this.
Amongst these I will mention the following, concerning which it may be
said, _Se non è vero, è ben trovato_:
A story is told of a lady admirer of his who once paid him a visit.
Noticing a cherry-stone on the mantelpiece, she annexed it, took it home
and had it set by a jeweller as a brooch, surrounded by diamonds and
pearls. Paying a visit to Gounod some weeks later the lady drew
attention to her act of reverence, when Gounod said: "But, madam, I
never eat cherries; the stone you found on the mantelpiece was from a
cherry eaten by my servant Jean!" Tableau!
* * * * *
In summing up the qualifications of a great composer--and as such there
can be no doubt that Gounod must be reckoned--it is evidently better to
dwell upon that which he has actually achieved than upon what he may
have left undone.
The composer of "Faust" has imprinted his mark in an unmistakable manner
upon his epoch. He has struck a note that had not previously been heard,
and if he has perhaps reiterated this note somewhat too frequently,
thereby attenuating its effect, the credit of having been the first to
employ it must not be refused to him.
Mons. Adolphe Jullien judges him severely when he says that the more he
has had occasion to hear and study his works, the more convinced he has
become that Gounod possesses the genius of assimilation. According to
him, the greatness of Gounod's talent is derived through the study of
the works of all the masters, and especially of those of Bach, Handel,
Schumann, and Berlioz. This I consider open to doubt. That Gounod has
studied the works of his predecessors and profited thereby is evident,
but this has been the case with all musicians. Something more is
required to compose a work such as "Faust"; that something which is the
appanage of but few composers, and which is known as "individuality."
Mons. Arthur Pougin, in his Supplement to Fétis's "Dictionnaire des
Musiciens," thus describes the genius of Gounod: "Musically and as
regards the theatre, M. Gounod is more spiritualistic than
materialistic, more of a poet than a painter, more elegiac and more
nervous than truly pathetic. It is perhaps this that has caused people
to say that he lacked dramatic feeling; those who have expressed
themselves thus have been mistaken, for it is not the dramatic
feeling--that is to say, _la perception passionée_--which Gounod
occasionally wants, but rather the temperament. At the same time, the
author of 'Faust,' 'Roméo,' 'Le Médecin Malgré Lui,' remains a true
poet, an inspired creator, an artist of the first rank and of high
order."
The essence of the master's genius is contained in "Faust." Although
since then he has composed many works of great merit, yet he has never
been inspired to a similar degree. He may have abused certain formulas,
and employed the same devices _ad nauseam_, but at any rate he can claim
them as his own. It is not his fault if his imitators have reproduced
his mannerisms to so great an extent.
Ernest Reyer once remarked that every one nowadays wrote music in the
style of Gounod. "So far," added the witty Academician, "it is still
that of Gounod himself that I prefer." This opinion, I venture to think,
will probably be endorsed by my readers.
I cannot better terminate this notice on the composer of "Faust" than by
reproducing the following sonnet addressed to him by Camille
Saint-Saëns:
"_Son art a la douceur, le ton des vieux pastels
Toujours il adora vos voluptés bénies,
Cloches saintes, concert des orgues, purs autels;
De son oeil clair, il voit les beautés infinies._
_Sur sa lyre d'ivoire, avec les Polymnies,
Il dit l'hymne paiën, cher aux Dieux immortels.
'Faust,' qui met dans sa main le sceptre des génies
Egale les Juan, les Raoul et les Tell._
_De Shakespeare et de Goethe il dore l'auréole;
Sa voix a rehaussé l'éclat de leur parole,
Leur oevre de sa flamme a gardé le reflet.
Echos du Mont Olympe, échos du Paraclet
Sont redis par sa Muse aux langueurs de créole;
Telle vibre à tous les vents une harpe d'Eole._"
[Illustration: CAMILLE SAINT-SAËNS portrait signed]
CAMILLE SAINT-SAËNS
There probably does not exist a living composer who is gifted with a
musical organisation so complete as that of Camille Saint-Saëns. A
perfect master of his craft, the French composer has contributed his
quota to every branch of his art, and may truly be said to have
distinguished himself in each. An eclectic in the highest sense of the
word, Saint-Saëns has attempted every style and form, disseminating his
works right and left with seemingly reckless prodigality. Never at a
loss for an idea, invariably correct and often imaginative, going from a
piano concerto to an opera, and from a cantata to a symphonic poem with
disconcerting ease, composing rapidly, yet never exhibiting any trace of
slovenly workmanship, finding time in the meanwhile to distinguish
himself as organist and pianist, and to wield the pen of the critic, the
astonishing capabilities of this wonderfully gifted musician may be put
down as absolutely unique. His eclecticism may indeed be said to have
been with him both a source of strength and weakness, for reasons which
I shall propose to examine later on. Before endeavouring to formulate an
opinion upon his multifarious works, a few biographical notes will not
be out of place.
Camille Saint-Saëns was born on October 9, 1835. He lost his father when
a child, and was brought up by his mother and his great-aunt, thanks to
whose combined care he was able to battle against the natural delicacy
of his constitution. Many anecdotes are related concerning the precocity
of his musical development, and the ease with which he mastered those
first principles of his art which usually appear so trying to the
youthful mind.
One day, when he was at play, a visitor having been ushered into the
adjoining room, the child, in listening to his footsteps, gravely
observed, to the amusement of those present: "That gentleman in walking
marks a crotchet and a quaver." The visitor in question walked with a
limp.
It was from his great-aunt that he learnt the elements of music. Later
on, he studied the piano under Stamaty,[19] and composition under
Maleden, subsequently entering the Conservatoire in the class presided
over by Halévy.
In 1852 he competed without success for the "Prix de Rome," and that
same year witnessed the production of his first symphony by the Société
de Sainte-Cécile under Seghers.
Twelve years later, he once more entered the lists, but again failed,
and the prize was awarded to Victor Sieg.[20]
Saint-Saëns was luckier in 1867, when his cantata "Les Noces de
Prométhée" was allotted the first place in a competition organised for a
work to be performed on the occasion of the opening of the International
Exhibition.
No less than one hundred and two musicians competed for the prize.
Berlioz wrote as follows to his friend Ferrand concerning the success
achieved by Saint-Saëns: "On avait entendu les jours précédents cent
quatre cantates, et j'ai eu le plaisir de voir couronner (à l'unanimité)
celle de mon jeune ami Camille Saint-Saëns, l'un des plus grands
musiciens de notre époque.... Je suis tout ému de notre séance du jury!
Comme Saint-Saëns va être heureux! j'ai couru chez lui, lui annoncer la
chose, il était sorti avec sa mère. C'est un maître pianiste foudroyant.
Enfin! voilà donc une chose de bon sens faite dans notre monde musical.
Cela m'a donné de la force; je ne vous aurais pas écrit si longuement
sans cette joie."[21]
A curious incident is related as having occurred on the occasion of this
competition. The works sent in naturally did not bear the names of their
authors, and many of the judges seemed to imagine that Saint-Saëns'
cantata, which was far ahead of the others in point of merit, was by a
foreigner. This caused the veteran Auber to make the following remark:
"Je voudrais être certain que l'auteur de ces 'Noces' soit un Français.
C'est un symphoniste si sur de ses moyens, si franc du collier, d'allure
si libre, que je ne vois pas chez nous son pareil."
The fact of Saint-Saëns having sent his score from London led some of
his judges to imagine that they were voting for Sir Julius (then Mr.)
Benedict.
Saint-Saëns had been named organist at the church of Saint Merry when
only seventeen years of age, and in 1858 was appointed to a similar post
at the Madeleine, in succession to Lefébure Wély.[22] He relinquished
this position in 1877, finding that he had not sufficient time to devote
to his duties, and was succeeded by Théodore Dubois.[23] In the
meanwhile, the reputation of Saint-Saëns as a pianist had been
spreading, and during frequent journeys over Europe he invariably met
with great success wherever he went.
The opinion of one artist concerning another is ever interesting, and
the following words of Hans von Bülow, written in 1859, will give an
idea of the esteem in which the great German pianist held his French
colleague: "There does not exist a monument of art of whatsoever
country, school, or epoch, that Saint-Saëns has not thoroughly studied.
When we came to talk about the symphonies of Schumann, I was most
astonished to hear him reproduce them on the piano with such an amount
of facility and exactitude that I remained dumbfounded in comparing this
prodigious memory with my own, which is thought so much of. In talking
with him I saw that nothing was unknown to him, and what made him appear
still greater in my eyes was the sincerity of his enthusiasm and his
great modesty." It must be recollected that at that time Schumann was
comparatively little known in France. Testimony of this kind coming from
a musician like Hans von Bülow is indeed precious. We have already seen
what Auber and Berlioz thought of Saint-Saëns, it remains to record the
opinions emitted by Wagner and Gounod.
The composer of "Tristan," in a _réunion_ consisting of several French
artists who had journeyed to Switzerland to see him, drank to the health
of Saint-Saëns, whom he qualified as the "greatest living French
composer."
Gounod has never lost an opportunity of expressing his admiration for
his friend's wonderful gifts, and has recorded his appreciation of the
surprising versatility so often exhibited by Saint-Saëns in the
following words: "He could write at will a work in the style of Rossini,
of Verdi, of Schumann, or of Wagner."
Mons. Edouard Schuré has endeavoured to trace the musical physiognomy of
Saint-Saëns in the following lines, occurring in the preface written by
him to the interesting "Profils de Musiciens" of Mons. Hugues Imbert:
"Personne ne possède plus à fond la science technique de la musique,
personne ne connait mieux les maîtres, de Bach jusqu'à Liszt, à Brahms,
et Rubinstein, personne ne manie plus habilement toutes les formes
vocales et instrumentales. Mons. Saint-Saëns peut dire: 'Rien de musical
ne m'est étranger.' Il a abordé tour à tour tous les genres et presque
avec un égal bonheur. On remarque chez lui une imagination souple et
vive, une constante aspiration à la force, à la noblesse, à la majesté.
De ses quatuors, de ses symphonies se détachent des échappées
grandioses, des fusées trop vite évanouies. Mais il serait impossible de
définir l'individualité qui se détache de l'ensemble de son oeuvre. On
n'y sent pas le tourment d'une âme, la poursuite d'un idéal. C'est le
Protée multiforme et polyphone de la musique. Essayez de le saisir; le
voilà qui se change en sirène. Vous êtes sous le charme? Il se
métamorphose en oiseau moqueur. Vous croyez le tenir enfin? mais il
monte dans les nuages en hypogriffe. Sa nature propre perce le mieux en
certaines fantaisies spirituelles d'un caractère sceptique et mordant
comme la 'Danse Macabre' et le 'Rouet d'Omphale.'"
Saint-Saëns is no stranger to us. His visits to London have been
frequent, and his cantata, "The Lyre and the Harp," was composed
expressly for the Birmingham Festival of 1879. This very year, 1893, the
University of Cambridge has paid homage to the greatness of the musician
by conferring upon him the honorary degree of Doctor of Music. His first
appearance in London was at the Musical Union in 1871. He played at
Philharmonic Concerts in 1874 and 1879, choosing Beethoven's concerto in
G on the first occasion, and his own concerto in G minor on the second.
He has also been heard at the Crystal Palace, and this year (1893) he
again appeared at a Philharmonic Concert, playing the same concerto in G
minor of his own composition, and conducting his symphonic poem, "Le
Rouet d'Omphale." During one of his visits to London, some ten or twelve
years ago, he met with an accident that might have had fatal results. He
fell through an open trap-door, and received serious injuries to his
back, from which he did not recover for a long while. Having promised
to take part in an arrangement for eight hands of his "Marche Heroïque,"
at a concert given by Sir Julius Benedict, he somehow contrived to get
on to the platform and perform his task, but when it came to acknowledge
the applause of the audience he was unable to bend forward or bow, and
had to slide off as best he could. As a pianist, Saint-Saëns may be
classed in the very first rank. His execution is prodigious, and his
lightness of touch quite unique. He is, perhaps, heard at his best when
interpreting Bach, with whose works he is as intimately acquainted as
any living musician.