particular interesting order. It has, however, been sufficient to
furnish Bruneau with the opportunity of exercising his skill and
displaying his fancy often to great advantage. Before taking leave of
"Kérim" I may point out, for the benefit of those who might experience
the curiosity of perusing this score, the monologue for tenor in the
first act with its delightful accompaniment in canon, the effective
treatment of some popular Oriental tunes, and specially the consistent
working out of the representative themes. I must also mention the
delicious "Adagietto," sung by the heroine in the last act, as an
example of simple and pure melody.
There are certain legends that require a long time before they are
dispelled, and the accusation that for a considerable while hung over
the heads of Wagner and Berlioz of being deficient in melodic power, has
been levelled against many other composers. Bruneau has not escaped it,
but he may console himself with the thought that he is in very good
company. It is I think Liszt who invented the excellent definition of a
species of melody "à plusieurs étages," which it is not given to every
one to grasp.
We now come to the work that has been instrumental in bringing the name
of Bruneau to the front in a prominent manner. If "Le Rêve," which was
first played at the Paris Opéra Comique in 1891, has given rise to much
controversy, it has at any rate not been passed by in silence or damned
with faint praise.
The mysticism and poetical charm of Zola's book, so different to the
majority of novels by the apostle of realism, has caused it to be widely
appreciated even in circles where his romances are not usually admitted.
Bruneau's desire originally had been to write a "lyrical drama" upon "La
Faute de l'abbé Mouret." It was only when he found that Massenet had
chosen the same subject that he was forced to give up the idea and turn
his attention to "Le Rêve." I am not aware whether Massenet has
abandoned his intention of turning "La Faute de l'abbé Mouret" into
an opera or not. Now that composers appear bent upon introducing realism
into their music, it is not impossible that even "L'Assommoir" may
eventually serve as the groundwork of an operatic textbook. We trust
that this will not be so. However realistic musicians may strive to be,
they should not associate their muse with themes that are not
susceptible of being idealised.
[Illustration: FACSIMILE OF AUTOGRAPH SCORE OF "LE RÊVE"
_Act I._]
The desire nowadays of musically photographing, if I may employ a
somewhat far-fetched comparison, certain types of humanity is excellent
in its way. But it is as well in so doing to choose a period remote from
ours, where no sense of incongruity can be produced through the
appearance of operatic characters clad in the prosaic garb of the
present day. The general characteristics of humanity have always been
the same, and Wagner, with his marvellous poetical insight, knew well
what he was about when he drew the subjects of his "music dramas" from
mythical sources.
In "Le Rêve" Bruneau has written a work remarkable in point of
originality and sustained expression. His music must be either accepted
in its entirety or rejected altogether. Upon those who appreciate its
beauties it exercises an irresistible fascination. Bruneau is a
psychologist, and he aims at musically describing the innermost feelings
of the soul. He has also in "Le Rêve" proved himself to be an idealist.
I will in a few words endeavour to sketch the subject-matter of this
admirable work.
Angélique is a young girl, the adopted child of a respectable old
couple, embroiderers by trade. She is subject to hallucinations, and
through constantly reading a book entitled "The Golden Legend," dealing
with the lives of saints and martyrs, fancies she hears voices in the
air, and dreams of the arrival of a prince who will come and carry her
off. As the first scene closes, she imagines she sees the one she has
been dreaming of, who turns out to be the son of the Bishop Jean
d'Hautecoeur, still sorrowing for the wife he lost many years ago. It
stands to reason that the two young people fall in love with one
another, and that the course of their love, according to the usual
precedent, does not run smooth. The bishop intends his son to become a
priest and refuses to consent to his marriage, remaining deaf to his
entreaties. Angélique thereupon pines away and is on the point of death,
when her lover finally induces his father to give in, and save her by
performing a miracle such as was accomplished by his ancestor, who cured
the sufferers of a plague by kissing them on the forehead and using the
words, "Si Dieu veut, je veux," which have since become the motto of his
family. The Bishop yields and performs the miracle. The lovers are about
to be united, but at the very porch of the church where they are to be
married, Angélique hears voices in the air calling to her, she staggers,
and dies. This last scene was omitted at Covent Garden.
As I have previously remarked, "Le Rêve" is constructed entirely upon a
number of representative themes. There is a practically complete absence
of set pieces, the work running its course uninterruptedly without a
break. Bruneau has in fact treated his setting of Zola's book in a form
that might be best described as "speech in song" accompanied by an
orchestral commentary. It is doubtful though whether the word
"accompany" can be used at all in connection with his music, seeing that
the most important part is allotted to the orchestra. The themes
employed are most impressive, thoroughly characteristic, and well
adapted for polyphonic treatment. There are certain scenes in which the
melodic interest lies mainly in the voice parts, although the
instrumental portion is invariably pregnant with suggestion, fragments
of motives being blended together and worked in with consummate skill.
Angélique's appeal to the Bishop is one of these, and is marked by
genuine dramatic feeling. One of the most strikingly original scenes is
the one comprising the Bishop's monologue. The poignant accents are
admirably fitted to describe the emotions of one whose life has been
blighted through the loss of the woman he loved, and whose determination
to force his son into the priesthood is shaken by the affection he
bears him.
Pages such as these are sufficient in themselves to stamp their author
as an artist of the first rank and a musician of genius.
The chorus occupies but a small place in "Le Rêve," and the choristers
are never seen upon the stage. A few bars for the sopranos, supposed to
represent the voices in the air heard by Angélique, an "Ave verum," sung
in the cathedral, and an old French hymn heard in the distance sung as a
procession is passing underneath the windows, represent the choral
numbers.
At the commencement of the second scene we have a lively dance to an old
French tune. In this place I think the effect would have been greatly
enhanced by the adjunction of voices to the orchestra. This would have
been æsthetically correct, as there is a certain incongruity in the fact
of a number of young girls dancing and apparently enjoying themselves in
silence.
I would draw attention to the admirable delineation of the dear old
embroiderers, as kindly a couple as could well be imagined, a creation
that Dickens might well envy, whose characteristics have been musically
transcribed by Bruneau in accents so suave and so touching.
The composer of "Le Rêve" possesses the sense of contrast to a very high
degree. Witness the manner in which he has set the following words when
the Bishop describes how his motto, "Si Dieu veut, je veux!" came to be
adopted by his family:
"_Pendant une peste cruelle,
Il pria tant que Dieu le fit vainqueur
Du terrible fléau.--Pour ramener la vie
Aux corps déjà glacés par l'agonie,
Il se penchait vers eux,
Les baisait sur la bouche et n'avait rien qu'à dire
Aux mourants: 'Si Dieu veut, je veux!'
On voyait les mourants sourire;
Car, dès qu'il les touchait des lèvres seulement,
Les malades étaient guéris soudainement._"[28]
The part dealing with the description of the plague is accompanied by a
strange and gruesome succession of chords, which gradually leads to a
lovely melody typical of the miracle that is supposed to have been
worked. Nothing can be more appropriate than the strains that accompany
the above words to which they appear intimately allied.
When "Le Rêve" was given at Covent Garden it was accorded a well-nigh
perfect rendering. Mdlle. Simonnet realised the character of Angélique
to the life, and imparted an infinity of charm to the music. The part of
the Bishop furnished Mons. Bouvet with the opportunity of presenting an
admirable character study. The remaining parts were exceptionally well
performed by Mdme. Deschamps-Jéhin, and Messrs. Engel and Lorrain. A
better _ensemble_ it would be difficult to imagine. The orchestra was
conducted by Mons. Jéhin.
Like so many other composers, Alfred Bruneau is also a musical critic,
and has succeeded the late Victor Wilder in that capacity upon the _Gil
Blas_.
Victor Wilder was ever one of the strongest advocates of Wagner on the
Parisian press, and it is to him that are due the excellent translations
into French of the master's later music dramas.
It may be interesting to my readers to peruse a specimen of Bruneau's
writing, and I will therefore cite an extract from an article he lately
wrote concerning the first performance of the "Walküre" in Paris, in
which he lucidly defines the difference existing between the
old-fashioned opera and the "lyrical drama." I must apologise if my
translation fails to do justice to the original.
"It is not only the independence of music (_l'indépendence des sons_)
that we owe to Richard Wagner. Owing to his prodigious genius, the
musical drama has entered into a new era, an era of true reason, of
rigorous good sense and of perfect logic. No one nowadays is unaware of
the profound dissimilarity existing between the 'lyrical drama' and the
opera. In the one, the music unites itself intimately to the poetry in
order to impart life, movement, passionate interest to a human action,
the course of which must run uninterruptedly from the rising of the
curtain to the last scene.
"In the other, the music is divided into a number of pieces which are
occasionally nothing but cumbersome _hors d'oeuvres_, the traditional
form of which hampers the action of actors and choristers contrary to
the most elementary scenic necessities.
"In the one, the symphony comments upon the inward thoughts of the
different characters, makes known the reasons that cause them to act,
and whilst depicting their natures, magically evokes before our eyes the
subtle and fabulous scenes dreamed of by our fancy.
"In the other, with a singular docility, the orchestra submits itself to
the slavery of the voice. Its function, which is absolutely secondary,
consists in accompanying the voices, in playing _ritournelles_, in
striking a few chords during which the recitatives are being declaimed,
and in more or less harmoniously accompanying the entries and exits.
"Alone the overture is reserved; and even this often serves but as a
pretext for the composition of a piece of instrumental display rather
than as a description of sentiments and facts.
"In the one, the melody is infinite, as Richard Wagner has rightly
expressed it; it goes and comes, moves from the voices to the orchestra,
ever renewing itself in the freedom of its flight.
"In the other, it appears only in certain places: if the vocal portion
is melodious, the accompaniment is rudimentary and the traditional
recitative endlessly intervening in the middle of the music in order to
divide it into set forms, arbitrarily condemns melody to submit to
wretched formulas and snatches away its wings."
In the course of the same article, Bruneau expresses himself thus:
"These are, however, terms imagined rather for the purpose of defending
certain ideas than for designating certain works, as there exist in the
classical form of opera masterpieces worthy of eternal and fervent
admiration. One does not necessarily run down works such as 'Don Juan,'
'Fidelio,' 'Iphigénie,' and so many others in desiring the
rejuvenescence of an art that owes to these masterpieces its
imperishable glory.
"After Gluck, Mozart, Beethoven, Wagner, fresh innovators will come,
who, respectful of the traditions of the past and eager for the
conquests of the future, will still further enlarge the field of action
of the musical drama."
The above words may be taken in a measure as furnishing Bruneau's
profession of faith as regards matters operatic. He has finished the
score of a new "lyrical drama" entitled "L'Attaque du Moulin," founded
upon a tale of Zola, which at the time I am writing has not yet been
performed. It is to be produced shortly at the Paris Opéra Comique
Theatre.
I must not fail to allude to Bruneau's characteristic settings of
Catulle Mendès' "Lieds de France," which are distinguished by an
evidently studied simplicity of expression.
Unless I am mistaken, it was the late Victor Wilder, his predecessor on
the _Gil Blas_ who once alluded to the composer of "Le Rêve" as "the
standard-bearer of the young French school," a qualification to which he
is, in my humble estimation, well entitled.
NOTE.--Since this volume has gone to press, "L'Attaque du Moulin"
has been produced at the Paris Opéra Comique, with great success.
SOME OTHER FRENCH COMPOSERS
It may with truth be averred that France has never been so well provided
with composers of talent as she is at the present time. Every year the
far-famed Conservatoire turns out a number of young men whose musical
knowledge is undeniable, and who are all of them filled with buoyant
hopes of achieving distinction in the arena of fame. The musical
progress that has been effected in France during the last thirty years
is immense. This may be largely attributed to the initiative of
Pasdeloup[29] the organiser and conductor of the celebrated concerts
which were started at the Cirque d'Hiver in 1861, and to the zeal and
talent of his successors Messrs. Lamoureux and Colonne. It is through
the efforts of the above indefatigable _chefs d'orchestre_ that
instrumental music of a high class has come to be generally appreciated
in Paris. The famous Conservatoire concerts, it must be remembered,
were, and are, only accessible to a few privileged individuals.
Pasdeloup began his work by familiarising the Parisians with the
symphonic works of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven. Mendelssohn and Schumann
followed, and the valiant _chef d'orchestre_ from time to time
introduced the names of Berlioz and Wagner. The appearance of the latter
on the programme generally foreshadowed a disturbance. Nowadays, when we
witness the spectacle of large crowds listening in wrapt attention to
some of the most complicated works of the great master at the concerts
of Messrs. Lamoureux and Colonne, it seems difficult to realise the
possibility of such turbulent scenes as I remember myself witnessing
only a few years since at the Pasdeloup concerts. On one occasion a
performance of the Prelude to "Lohengrin" produced a veritable
disturbance, one section of the audience desiring to hear it over again
in spite of the manifest opposition displayed by the major portion of
the spectators. Pasdeloup adopted the sensible course of making an
impromptu speech, in which he said that as many people wished to hear
the Prelude once more he would repeat it at the end of the concert, when
those who objected to it would be at liberty to retire. By thus severing
the Gordian knot the clever _chef d'orchestre_ effectually disposed of
the difficulty to the manifest disappointment of the anti-Wagnerites
present.
The members of the younger generation of French composers have had no
cause to complain of any want of hospitality at the hands of either
Pasdeloup or Messrs. Lamoureux[30] and Colonne,[31] and many a now
well-known musician has won his spurs through their help.
It would almost appear as if a veil which for a long period had
obscured the vision of the musical section of the public had at length
been removed. The genius of Berlioz and that of Wagner are now
uncontested, unless it be by a few retrograde individuals whose opinions
are not entitled to any weight, and the influence of these masters upon
the modern French school has been both great and far-reaching. It is
highly regrettable that the spirit of free trade is not acted upon to a
greater extent in the matter of musical affairs. If this were the case
we should be afforded more chances of becoming acquainted with the works
of those members of the young, and if I may so term it, militant French
school, which are not sufficiently known on this side of the channel.
In like manner, our native composers might be given the opportunity of
proving to the Parisians the fallacy of the notion, seemingly
entertained abroad, that England is destitute of creative musical
talent. Art has not, or ought not to have, any boundaries. That which
is good deserves to be known and to survive; as for the rest, it
matters not.
In music, time seems to march with disconcerting rapidity. Composers who
but a few years since were considered as hopelessly advanced in their
ideas are now in danger of being left behind by their juniors.
One of the most ardent champions of the new school of thought some years
ago was Victorin Joncières, who enjoys a well-established reputation in
Paris as composer and critic.
Born in 1839, this artist is the author of several operas denoting
aptitudes of no mean order, although devoid of any distinctive
originality. Passing by such early works as "Sardanapale" (1867), and
"Le dernier jour de Pompei" (1869), we come to "Dimitri," which contains
several good numbers, "La Reine Berthe" (1878), and "Le Chevalier Jean"
(1885). This last work has been played in Germany with success under the
title of "Johann von Löthringen." "Dimitri" and "Le Chevalier Jean" may
be looked upon as the composer's best operas.
The influence of Wagner's earlier style is very apparent in these works.
Mons. Joncières is also the author of an interesting "Symphonie
Romantique." As a critic he has done much to aid the cause of Wagner in
France, although not going to the length of some of the master's thick
and thin admirers.
A musician of a different type is Théodore Dubois, born in 1837. This
composer, like his friend Camille Saint-Saëns, whom he succeeded as
organist at the Madeleine, has written a great deal and attempted a
variety of _genres_. Amongst his works it will be sufficient to mention
the opera "Aben Hamet," the ballet "La Farandole," the concert overture
"Frithjoff," "Paradise Lost," an oratorio which gained the prize offered
by the city of Paris in 1878, and his setting of the "Seven Words of the
Cross" (1867).
Besides these, Théodore Dubois, who won the "Prix de Rome" in 1861, is
the author of a number of orchestral works, piano music, and religious
compositions which denote talent of an uncommon order and exhibit
qualities that entitle him to occupy an important place amongst
contemporary musicians.
Another composer whose name is better known in England, and who has also
achieved distinction as an organist, is Charles Marie Widor, born in
1845, several of whose compositions have been heard at the Philharmonic
and Crystal Palace Concerts. This composer has given proof of a
considerable amount of versatility in his different contributions to
orchestral and chamber music, also in his charming ballet "La
Korrigane." His opera "Maître Ambros" did not meet with success. He has
also written a quantity of excellent piano music and many songs. There
is imagination and skill displayed in Widor's compositions, and much may
yet be expected from him.
If the name of Widor is known in England, the same may be said of
Benjamin Godard, born in 1849, in whom we have one of the most prolific
of the younger generation of French composers. Godard exhibits a decided
individuality of his own. He is endowed with an extraordinary facility
of production, and is, in fact, apt to err on the side of
over-productivity, and to spread his talents over too large an area. His
dramatic poem "Le Tasse," which won the prize offered by the city of
Paris in 1879, is a work of considerable importance, revealing an
undoubted personality.
With his operas "Pedro de Zalamea," "Jocelyn," "Dante," Godard has been
less successful. It is in works such as the "Concerto Romantique" for
violin, the "Symphonie Légendaire," the piano trio, amongst others, that
his talent finds its true expression. The composer of these works is in
the full force of his powers, and it is not too much to state the belief
that he has yet much to say. Godard is perhaps greater in small things
than he is in large. There is an exquisite charm in some of his songs
such as "Ninon," and "Te souviens tu," whilst many of his piano pieces
have a savour all their own.
Emile Paladhile, born in 1844, is the composer of the famous
"Mandolinata," which has been warbled by every vocalist all the world
over. This single melody has probably done more to render his name
popular than all his other works put together. His opera "Patrie" has
met with success in Paris. Amongst his other dramatic works may be
mentioned "Le Passant," "L'Amour Africain," and "Suzanne."
Some composers are doomed to wait a long while before an opportunity is
offered them of obtaining a hearing. Such has not been the case with
Gervais Bernard Salvayre, born in 1847, who has had several operas
performed, without, however, so far scoring any great success.
His first opera, "Le Bravo" played in 1877, was favourably received, but
none of his later works, "Egmont," "Richard III.," or "La Dame de
Monsoreaux," have succeeded in maintaining themselves in the
_répertoire_. The second of these, unless I am mistaken, was first
produced in St. Petersburg, and the last at the Paris Opéra, where it
was a complete _fiasco_. This composer is also the author of a ballet
entitled "La Fandango," a "Stabat Mater," and several other works,
including a graceful "Air varié" for stringed instruments.
As the dimensions of this volume are restricted, I am unable to do more
than draw attention to some composers whose works would merit more than
a cursory mention. Amongst these I may name the erudite
Bourgault-Ducoudray, Lenepveu, whose opera "Velléda" was brought out in
London some years ago with Mme. Patti in the principal part, Henri
Maréchal, the brothers Hillemacher, joint composers of a remarkable
opera founded on Dumas' "Henri III.," Wormser, author of "L'Enfant
Prodigue," Diaz, Pierné, Pessard, Pfeiffer, Mdlle. Chaminade, Lefebvre,
Véronge de la Nux, Cahen, and Messager. This last composer's name is
well known in London, where his delightful opera "La Basoche" was
successfully performed at the English Opera House, now given up to that
form of art, the variety entertainment, so dear to the British public.
The music he has lately composed to Loti's "Madame Chrysanthème" will
surely add much to his reputation. It is full of refinement and charm.
We now come to an interesting group of composers who are understood to
represent musical ideas of a more "advanced" kind. Some of these are
pupils of the late César Franck, and have been humorously designated as
forming part of "La République Franckaise."
It may here be said that the almost absolute ignorance existing in
England as regards the compositions of so eminent a musician as César
Franck does not redound to our credit. Surely it would be worth the
while of our choral societies to produce a work so remarkable in every
way as "Les Béatitudes," and a place might occasionally be found in our
concert programmes for some example of his chamber music. His fine
violin sonata was recently played at the St. James's Hall by Mme.
Frickenhaus and Mons. Ortmans, and great credit is thereby due to both
these artists, who have shown an example that might with advantage be
followed.
There exists a certain "Prélude, Choral et Fugue," for the piano,
published by Messrs. Enoch, that I can confidently recommend to the
notice of musicians, who will find therein the expression of a strong,
deep, and noble talent.