were held up to ridicule, and jokes were freely made concerning matters
that must by a great portion of the audience have been held sacred, and
yet nothing was said. But should some manager think of producing an
episode culled from the Old Testament, and treated in a strictly serious
and even reverent manner, the British conscience, that article of home
manufacture of which Englishmen are so proud, is at once up in arms. We
cannot support too many music-halls or give too much encouragement to
those bastard specimens of operatic music known as "original" (?) comic
operas, but our feelings of propriety revolt against anything like the
stage treatment of works founded upon Biblical subjects. Let us be
consistent whilst we are about it. If it is wrong to introduce Samson,
Dalila, the Queen of Sheba, Joseph, Moses, or other Biblical personages
upon the stage, it is surely worse to sanction the performance of operas
or dramas in which scenes are introduced representing the interior of
churches, or religious ceremonies of any description! Worse than all is
the performance of pieces calculated to throw ridicule upon ministers of
religion. To see respectable audiences sitting complacently gazing at a
popular actor personifying a clergyman dancing in a _pas de quatre_ with
his chapel in the background, and to think that some of these very
individuals may possibly be numbered amongst those who object to Sunday
concerts, is indeed more than strange.
In the meanwhile as this state of things exists, and the musical public
is debarred from hearing a work like "Samson et Dalila" on the stage, it
may be wondered that no one seems to have been struck with the idea of
producing it in oratorio form in the concert-room. It is not creditable
that England should remain the only nation where "Samson et Dalila" has
not been given.[24]
The prejudice existing against the employment of Biblical subjects for
operatic purposes is unfortunate, as the fund of material is apparently
exhaustless. The story of Samson and Dalila has furnished Saint-Saëns
with a plot such as he has since sought for in vain in the pages of
English and French history. The less complicated the story, the better
it is fitted for operatic treatment. Wagner has exposed his reasons at
length concerning the superiority of a legendary over a historical
subject. Saint-Saëns is unfortunately not of this way of thinking. Of
later years the bias of his mind has been rather tending towards
historical subjects.
"Samson et Dalila" may be considered not only as one of the master's
best operas, perhaps even as the very best, but as one of the finest
dramatic works produced by any French composer during the last
five-and-twenty or thirty years.
A work like this cannot be otherwise than the spontaneous outcome of a
composer's feelings, untrammelled by outward considerations. The varied
influences that are noticeable in the musical style of Saint-Saëns, and
to which I have already made allusion, are perhaps more marked in this
work than in any of his other operas. In the first act the choruses sung
by the captive Hebrews breathe the spirit of Bach and Handel, and are
conceived rather in the oratorio style. As a strong contrast to these we
have the dainty chorus of the priestesses of Dagon and their
characteristic dance, the fascinating trio in which Dalila endeavours to
cast her spell over Samson, and the lovely air, "Printemps qui
commence," which terminates the act and which has been sung by every
contralto. Samson's spirited appeal to arms must also be mentioned. The
second act commences with Dalila's invocation to love, praying for aid
in her design to ensnare Samson. The lengthy duet between the heroine
and the high priest is eminently dramatic, and the following duet
between her and Samson may be ranked amongst the finest love scenes ever
written. It contains a beautiful phrase sung by the temptress when
endeavouring to inveigle her victim, which is reproduced later on in an
admirably suggestive manner by the orchestra, and reappears in the third
act, transformed into a mocking theme, when Dalila is scoffing at her
victim in chains and deprived of his sight. The third and last act
contains a touching prayer for Samson, bewailing his lost sight, some
admirable ballet music, in which the composer has made effective use of
the Eastern scale, and a masterly scene depicting the revelries of the
Philistines, culminating in the destruction of the temple by Samson. So
ends this beautiful score, the merits of which are so transparent and
yet have remained so long unrecognised.
[Illustration: FACSIMILE OF AUTOGRAPH SCORE OF "SAMSON ET DALILA"]
In "Samson et Dalila" Saint-Saëns had made use of representative themes,
and although he has done so in a sufficiently discreet fashion, avoiding
anything approaching to Wagnerian polyphony, the fact deserves to be
noted as affording, perhaps, the first instance in which the system has
been rigorously followed by a French composer. There can be no doubt but
that the device contributes to a great extent in securing that unity
which is so much sought for nowadays in dramatic works. Another point to
be noted is the suppression of detached numbers, the opera being divided
into scenes that are logically developed.
The instrumentation of "Samson et Dalila" is rich and varied, yet never
unduly complicated. Saint-Saëns knows how to distribute his effects with
unerring certainty, and his work is a model of orchestral skill. The
opera is scored for a very full orchestra, of which it may be
interesting to give the composition. In addition to the strings and
usual wood wind, he employs a third flute, a _cor anglais_, a bass
clarinet, a double bassoon, four horns, two trumpets, two cornets, three
trombones, a bass tuba, two ophicleides, two harps, three kettledrums, a
_grosse caisse_, cymbals, a triangle, a _glockenspiel_, _crotales_,
castagnettes made of wood and iron, a _tambour de basque_, and a tamtam.
These constitute a powerful engine of sound, which is made subservient
to the composer's will, and reproduces his thoughts with unimpeachable
exactitude.
"Samson et Dalila" perhaps remains the dramatic masterpiece of
Saint-Saëns. His other operas may be equally remarkable in point of
style and more elaborate in the matter of detail, but they often lack
that apparent spontaneity which constitutes not the least charm of the
Biblical work, and, although containing much that is admirable, are
perhaps less inspired. Saint-Saëns could not write an uninteresting work
if he chose, and musicians will find much to admire in his later operas.
In "Samson et Dalila" he has succeeded in compelling the admiration of
both musicians and the public at large, perhaps for the very reason that
when he wrote it he did not attempt to please either, but was content to
follow the bent of his inspiration without _arrière pensée_ of any sort.
"Etienne Marcel," the composer's next opera, produced at Lyons in 1879,
has not received the amount of attention due to its merits. The defects
in this work arise from a certain want of unity, consequent upon the
obvious desire of the composer to reconcile the conflicting elements of
the old and the new schools. Putting such considerations aside, there
can be no doubt as to the general effectiveness of the music. The
subject deals with a stirring episode of French history. If in treating
it the composer has not discarded the older forms associated with the
"grand opéra" style, he has imparted a modern colouring to his score
which goes far to redeem any shortcomings in this respect. He has been
particularly happy in his treatment of the scenes of popular life that
abound in this opera. There is a freshness and an irresistible
_entrain_ in the ballet music, which is deliciously scored and abounds
in charming details. The presence of a waltz in an opera, the action of
which is laid in the fourteenth century, may cause some surprise, but it
does not do to be over-particular in such matters, and much may be
forgiven when the result is so pleasing.
A few years ago it was quite on the cards that "Etienne Marcel" should
be performed at Covent Garden, with Mme. Patti in the principal
character. The great _prima donna_ had taken a strong fancy to the
music, and expressed a desire to sing it. Unfortunately circumstances
occurred which induced the _diva_ to change her mind, and to display her
vocalisation in an opera of little musical worth, which has long since
disappeared from the _répertoire_.
If would be a thousand pities if an opera containing so much that is
excellent should be allowed to suffer perpetual neglect, and it may be
hoped that some day we may be afforded the chance of hearing it in
England.
The great moment in the dramatic career of Saint-Saëns was now at
hand--that psychological moment so long desired and eagerly anticipated
by every French aspirant to operatic fame. The doors of the Opera, that
_sanctum sanctorum_, was at length to be opened to him. After the
comparative failure of such works as Gounod's "Tribut de Zamora," and
Ambroise Thomas' "Françoise de Rimini," the prestige of the French
school wanted looking after, and some fresh blood was required to renew
it. That a composer such as Saint-Saëns should be obliged to go to
Weimar and Lyons in order to get played seemed an anomaly, and the
author of "Samson et Dalila" was at last, and not too soon, commissioned
to write a work for the leading operatic stage of Paris.
Great expectations had been formed concerning the opera that so
consummate a musician, and one holding such high artistic notions, would
produce. It was held that a composer so well endowed would prove to be
the one, _par excellence_, destined to free the French operatic stage
from the bondage of "routine," and be the standard-bearer of French
progressive art. These anticipations were destined to be only partly
realised. Leaving French history for the nonce, Saint-Saëns found in the
life of our much-married monarch a subject congenial to his muse, and
"Henri VIII." was produced with success in March 1883. If this opera is
ever to be performed in England certain alterations will have to be
made, as the inclusion of a Scotch ballet danced at Richmond might tend
to ridicule.
It must be admitted that if the book of "Henri VIII." is in many senses
disappointing, yet it is not devoid of merit, and contains several
highly dramatic situations that have been well treated by the musician.
The authors, Messrs. Détroyat and Silvestre, have not adhered entirely
to Shakespeare. The action takes place at the time when Henry has begun
to be struck with the charms of Anne Boleyn, who also has an admirer in
Don Gomez, the Spanish ambassador. The divorce of the King from
Katharine of Arragon is at hand, and the Pope's Legate having refused
to sanction it, the King, amidst the acclamation of the people,
proclaims the schism with the Roman Church. The last act is perhaps the
best. Anne Boleyn is now Queen, and Katharine, who is dying, has in her
possession a compromising letter from Anne to Don Gomez. Henry is
devoured by jealousy, and comes, accompanied by Don Gomez, to endeavour
to obtain possession of this document. Anne has also come to see if she
can regain the letter. This leads to the capital situation in the opera.
Henry, in order to excite the jealous and revengeful feelings of
Katharine, speaks in the tenderest tones to Anne, whose eyes are fixed
upon the note that Katharine has in her hands. At length Katharine,
having prayed for strength to resist the temptation, throws the letter
in the fire, and falls down dead.
There is no denying the dramatic force of this situation, which has been
treated by Saint-Saëns in a masterly manner. The splendid quartet which
terminates the work, in which the different emotions of the four
characters are depicted in accents as powerful as they are varied, may
rank amongst his finest inspirations, and as one of the most stirring
scenes in the entire range of modern opera.
An interesting feature in "Henri VIII." is the partial employment of
_leit-motiven_. Saint-Saëns, who at one time was looked upon as a
disciple of Wagner, has taken pains to dispel this impression. And yet
in the first work composed by him for the chief French operatic theatre,
he set to work by making use of one of the Bayreuth master's favourite
devices. He will probably urge that it is not so much Wagner himself
that he has been combating, but the unreasoning enthusiasm of some of
his thick-and-thin admirers. This may be so, but the fact remains, that
Saint-Saëns has laid himself open to misconception, which might easily
have been avoided had he displayed a less militant tendency in his
criticisms. At any rate, he has deliberately adopted the system of
representative themes in his "Henri VIII.," and if, whilst so doing, he
has not abandoned the old operatic set forms, the innovation is a
sufficiently important one to note. It is this attempt to reconcile such
antagonistic elements that is held by some as constituting a weak point
in this remarkable work. "From the beginning," writes a well-known
critic, "we see the two forms of the opera and the lyrical drama in
juxtaposition, and thus all unity of style is at once broken."
The opinions of Saint-Saëns himself on the subject of dramatic music are
interesting, as they explain the spirit of compromise that exists in all
his works. "Henri VIII." was considered by some as foreshadowing a new
departure in the composer's style. These were doomed to be disappointed,
for the works that have succeeded it are not in any way more "advanced."
Saint-Saëns has taken the trouble to write and explain his views on the
subject, and from these it is highly unlikely that he will now depart.
In a letter written to the editor of the _Carillon Théatral_, soon after
the performance of his opera "Proserpine," Saint-Saëns expressed
himself thus: "My theory of dramatic art is this: I believe the drama is
progressing towards a synthesis of different elements, song,
declamation, and symphony blending in an equilibrium which leaves the
composer free to avail himself of all the resources of art, while it
affords the spectator the gratification of every legitimate desire. It
is this equilibrium which I seek, and which others will one day find.
Both heart and head impel me to pursue this aim, and to this I must
adhere. It is for this reason that I am disowned, now by those
Wagnerites who despise the melodic style and the art of singing, now by
those reactionaries who lay the entire stress on those elements, and
consider declamation and symphony as mere accessories."
The above definition of the "musical drama" is rational enough, and I do
not see what even the most uncompromising Wagnerite could find to object
in it. As to the allusion to "those Wagnerites who despise the melodic
style," it would be interesting to know precisely to whom the composer
refers. If there exist a few fanatics who imagine that melody can be
banished with impunity, they are in absolute disaccord with Wagner
himself, who wrote that "the one and only form of music is melody; no
music is conceivable without melody, and both are absolutely
inseparable." Mons. Imbert, in an article upon Saint-Saëns, has
amusingly termed him "le Wagnérien sans le savoir."
The truth of the matter is, that every composer nowadays is actuated by
the same desire, namely, to make his music fit the subject he is
illustrating as closely as possible. If the method adopted differs in
any way, this must be ascribed to a variety of causes, the composer's
temperament, his education, his nationality, and others. As to the
interpolation of ballets and sundry _hors d'oeuvre_ introduced often
apparently without rhyme or reason, that still find their way into
operas, it must in justice to the composer be remembered that he has a
number of conventionalities to fight against and prejudices to
overcome. Every one has not got the prestige of a Wagner, and even he
had to fight a fearfully uphill battle, and only reaped the full fruits
of his labours at the end of his career.
The taste of the public is little by little coming round to the "lyrical
drama" as distinct from the opera, and composers are but following the
tendency of the age. The transformation of style that has led Verdi to
rise from "Trovatore" to "Otello" is there to attest it.
The next opera--or shall we say "lyrical drama"?--composed by
Saint-Saëns was "Proserpine," brought out at the ill-fated Opéra Comique
in 1887, the same year during which the theatre was destined to be
burned to the ground. Despite its title, this work has nothing in common
with mythology. It is taken from an early work by the poet Vacquerie,
published some fifty years ago.
The action takes place in Italy during the sixteenth century.
Proserpine, a courtesan, is in love with Sabatino, a young nobleman, who
is engaged to be married to Angiola, the sister of his friend. After
endeavouring vainly to entrap Angiola and her brother, assisted by
Squarocca, a bandit, she seeks Sabatino, who is awaiting his bride. When
Angiola enters, Proserpine hides behind some drapery. Maddened by
jealousy at hearing the lovers interchange protestations of affection,
she rushes forward and strikes Angiola with her stiletto. Sabatino then
snatches the weapon from her hands and plunges it into her heart.
This story was considered somewhat melodramatic in Paris, and the
_dénouement_ has since been somewhat modified. A few alterations have
been made in the score, and in its new form "Proserpine" will surely be
performed sooner or later. There are some delightful numbers in this
opera, which throughout bears the impress of the master's hand. I will
especially draw attention to the closing scene of the second act, which
is a perfect gem of delicate fancy and exquisite workmanship. The scene
represents the interior of a convent, and a number of mendicants enter
to receive alms. Their voices are accompanied by a melodic figure which
is repeated in various guises until the fall of the curtain, without
ever sounding monotonous in any degree, through the consummate art and
skilful manipulation with which it is handled.
With his next opera Saint-Saëns returned to the Grand Opéra, where
"Ascanio" was produced in 1890. Benvenuto Cellini is the leading
character in this work, but the composer discarded the great sculptor's
name as his title, probably out of deference to the memory of Berlioz,
whose first dramatic attempt bore that name. These scruples did not
trouble Mons. Diaz, who curiously enough brought out an opera bearing
that title during the same year at the Opéra Comique, where it met with
no success. There has always been something of the mystifier in
Saint-Saëns. He likes to go his own way, regardless of what may be
expected of him or whether he satisfies the partisans of any particular
style of music. Mons. Camille Bellaigue remarks that he was not much
astonished that this work should have produced a feeling of surprise and
even of disappointment. "L'oeuvre," he says, "que peut-être on
attendait puissante et grandiose, n'est que touchante parfois, toujours
intime et presque familière."
This definition gives so good an idea of the general character of the
opera that I do not hesitate to reproduce it here. The plot of "Ascanio"
is rather complicated for a "lyrical drama," the numberless episodes
that occur detracting from the continuity of the work. Saint-Saëns
appears to have composed the music in a remarkably short space of time,
less than a year. Those who take the trouble to study this interesting
score, which has been aptly termed a musical mosaic, will appreciate the
prodigious amount of labour involved. The composer has again employed
representative themes, very much after the system he had previously
adopted in his "Henri VIII." The score of "Ascanio" is a veritable
monument of ingenuity, and if it does not produce an altogether
satisfactory impression, the fault may be ascribed rather to the book
than to the music.
A curious incident in connection with the first performance of this
opera was that the composer, doubtless anxious to seek perfect rest
after his prolonged labours, and desirous of avoiding the fatigues
consequent upon attending its production, took himself away and
carefully omitted to leave his address behind. Weeks elapsed, and no
news of him was forthcoming. Fanciful stories were concocted of how he
had met with foul play. Telegrams were dispatched all the world over,
with the result that he was authoritatively declared to have been seen
in at least a dozen different places several hundred miles away one from
the other. Finally, he was discovered, quite by chance, under an assumed
name in the Canary Islands. A visitor staying in the same hotel, hearing
some one playing the piano in a manner the reverse of amateurish, and
having that morning read about the mysterious disappearance in the
French papers, had the curiosity to go down and verify the suspicions
that had occurred to him. He had no difficulty in identifying the
composer, and in a very short time the news had spread all over the
place. Saint-Saëns then had to pay the penalty of being a celebrity. He
wrote thus to Mons. Louis Gallet, his friend and collaborator: "For the
last three days, since I have been recognised, I lead an insupportable
life. I do not have a moment to myself. I am scribbling you these lines
whilst talking. If there is no common sense in what I say, do not be
surprised."
The last dramatic work produced by Saint-Saëns is "Phryné," a two-act
comic opera, given at the Opéra Comique in the month of May of the
present year (1893).
It might have been hoped that a composer such as Saint-Saëns would have
thought fit to devote his great gifts to the elaboration of a "musical
comedy" that might have ranked side by side with Wagner's
"Meistersinger" and Verdi's' "Falstaff." Not one of his countrymen is
better qualified than he is for such a task. Perhaps he may undertake it
later on. At any rate, he has not attempted anything of the kind in
"Phryné," which is modelled upon an old pattern, includes spoken
dialogue, and consists of a number of detached pieces, following the
conventional practice associated with the Opéra Comique.
In writing this graceful score Saint-Saëns has evidently aimed at
simplicity. There are some charming numbers of a melodious nature in
this little work, which also displays the composer's capacity of dealing
with humorous situations to great advantage. Perhaps the best portion is
the "Invocation to Venus," in which the means employed are of the
simplest, whilst the results are eminently poetical and effective.
"Phryné" has proved very successful in Paris. The title part has been
interpreted by Miss Sybil Sanderson, whom the composer has gratified
with a liberal allowance of _roulades_ and other vocal acrobatics.
It now remains for me to allude to some of the other compositions of
Saint-Saëns in various lines--and what line has he not attempted? That
one who has achieved so great a reputation as an organist should also
have distinguished himself as a composer of sacred music stands to
reason. One of his most representative works of this kind is his
oratorio "Le Déluge," which exhibits the peculiar characteristics of his
style to an almost equal degree as "Samson et Dalila." Every one knows,
or ought to know, the beautiful Prelude with the lovely violin solo, the
commencement of which is suggestive of Bach, whilst the end is
reminiscent of Gounod. I must also mention his noble "Requiem" and fine
setting of the psalm "Coeli enarrant." The "Oratorio de Noël" is an
early work, but contains several charming pages.