ROSSINI'S REPRODUCTIONS FROM HIMSELF.
"La Cenerentola" belongs to the composite order of operatic
architecture. But no canon has been set against self-robbery; and
Rossini, who never professed any theory on the subject of dramatic
expression in music, had the right to take a piece from one of his works
which had failed, or which seemed already to have had its day, to place
it in another which was just about to appear. This was his constant
practice, and its justification is to be found in its success.
Of course Rossini had a system, and of course music _does_ possess
dramatic expression, up to a certain point. Figaro's air could not have
been introduced into the trio of "Guillaume Tell;" the "Non piu mesta"
of "Cenerentola" would not have seemed appropriate as the theme of the
prayer in "Mosè."
And it is to be noticed, moreover, that when Rossini made his own
adaptations from himself, he was always successful, whereas other
composers, who have manufactured pasticcios with motives borrowed from
Rossini, have always failed. "Robert Bruce," arranged by M. Carafa, with
Rossini's sanction, but not under Rossini's superintendence, made no
impression, and we have seen that Rossini quite mistrusted a M.
Berettoni, who had constructed an opera called "Un Curioso Accidente,"
from pieces contained in the composer's early works.[22] This is not the
place in which to speak of the shameful adaptations of Rossini's works
produced in England, into which airs by nameless composers were
introduced, and which were prefaced by absurd _pots pourris_ called
overtures, the work of the "conductor and composer" of the music
attached to the theatre where Rossini was thus presented. The rule in
regard to _pasticcio_-making is clear. It may be undertaken by the
composer of the airs employed, but by no one else.
Rossini is by no means the only composer who has transferred themes
(seldom pieces in their complete form) from one to another of his
works. According to M. Blaze de Bury,[23] Meyerbeer laid some of his
early operas under contribution for "Dinorah," which, perhaps for that
reason, is so remarkably full of fresh spontaneous melody.
Auber enriched his "Fra Diavolo" in a similar manner, when he prepared
it for the Italian stage. In the "Muette de Portici," again, the prayer
is borrowed from a mass, the _barcarolle_ from "Emma," the overture from
"Le Maçon."
Even Gluck, the favourite composer of those who maintain not only that
music should render the character of a dramatic situation, but that it
can and ought to reflect the meaning of particular phrases,--even Gluck,
in arranging his works for the French stage, turned constantly for
musical material to the works of his early days.
Persons who are of opinion that Rossini's "Stabat Mater" is written in
the operatic style, and that the airs of Handel's oratorios are not in
the operatic style, may be interested to hear that "Lord, remember
David," was originally composed for the opera of "Sosarme," where it is
set to the words "Rendi l'Sereno al Ciglio," and that "Holy, Holy, Lord
God Almighty," first appears in the opera of "Rodelinda," as "Dove sei
amato bene."
That these changes have been made with success proves that there is no
such thing as definite expression in music. The music of an impassioned
love song may be adapted to the words of a prayer, and will only seem
inappropriate to those who may chance to remember the words to which it
was originally composed. A positive feeling of joy or of grief, of
exultation or of depression, of liveliness or of solemnity, can be
expressed by musical means, without the assistance of words, but not
mixed feelings, into which several shades of sentiment enter. At least
not with definiteness; though, once indicated by the words, they will
obtain from music the most admirable colours, which will even appear to
have been invented expressly and solely for them.
Rossini did not go back to the operas of his youth for motives, pieces
and overtures merely, as is sometimes supposed, to save himself trouble,
though in one or two exceptional cases, when much pressed for time, he
may have done something of the kind; but his principle was, when he had
once produced a really good piece, not to let it be lost--not to let it
perish through the fault of an intolerable libretto.
A libretto is sometimes so bad that the best music in the world will not
carry it off: in vain the composer gives it wings, it will _not_ fly. In
such a case as that, it was Rossini's practice to disunite his living
music from the dead body of the drama to which it had been attached, and
to present it again to the public in what he thought would prove a
happier alliance. If, again, the union was a failure, he had no
hesitation in marrying his music to more or less immortal verse for the
third time. The third time the result was invariably happy; witness the
air, "Miei Rampolli," which was tried first in "La Pietra del Paragone,"
and secondly in "La Gazzetta," before it at last found its proper place
in "La Cenerentola;" and two of the finest pieces in the "Barber of
Seville," the overture which had previously belonged in succession to
"Aureliano in Palmira" and "Elisabetta;" and _Almaviva's_ air, "Ecco
ridente il Cielo," a treasure saved from the wreck of "Aureliano in
Palmira," and which had before been picked out of the ruins of "Ciro in
Babilonia."
If Rossini had only pursued his laudable system half way, neither the
overture to the "Barber" nor the Count's _cavatina_ would now have been
heard; and his happiest, if not his greatest, work would have lost two
of its most brilliant ornaments.
It must be observed that Rossini had never the slightest idea of
allowing the same piece to belong to two different operas. "I get
enraged," he once said, speaking of the publication of his complete
works, "when I think of that edition which contains every opera I have
composed. The public will often find the same piece in different works,
for I thought I had a right to take those which seemed to me the best
from the operas which had failed, and place them in the new ones that I
was composing. When an opera was hissed, I looked upon it as utterly
dead, and now I find everything brought to life again."[24]
* * * * *
The libretto of "Cenerentola" is an adaptation from Etienne's
"Cendrillon." Rossini composed the opera for the Teatro Valle, at Rome,
where it was produced on the 26th December, 1817, nearly one year after
the "Barber," a few months after "Otello" (winter season of 1816), and a
few months before "La Gazza Ladra" (spring season of 1817). From the
winter of 1815 to the spring of 1816, Rossini produced six operas,
including the four masterpieces just named. The two minor works were
"Torvaldo e Dorliska," and "La Gazzetta." "La Cenerentola" was not quite
so successful as "Il Barbiere," and no wonder, for though crammed full
of beautiful music, it is not all of one piece like its predecessor at
Rome, to which, moreover, "Cinderella" is very inferior in dramatic
movement, and as a play generally.
The "Barber," too, lends itself more readily to that perfect execution
which it has so often attained.
It contains five excellent parts, each essentially necessary to the
intrigue, and only one inferior character, who only appears for a few
minutes during a necessary pause in the action, to sing a very pretty
air. In regard to the two heroines, _Rosina_ is certainly the most
attractive, though _Cinderella_ ought to be (but somehow is not) more
sympathetic.
Indeed, as a purely theatrical part, a part for stage display, that of
_Rosina_ is quite unrivalled, and none is better adapted for the
re-appearance of a favourite singer coming back to the scene of previous
triumphs. _Rosina_ makes her first entry on the balcony, as if only to
receive the applause and congratulations of the public on her return.
She has then to make a second entry, to sing a beautiful and very
effective cavatina, and finally she has an admirable opportunity for
gratifying the audience in the scene of the music lesson, by introducing
some air which she knows, for national or sentimental reasons, or both,
to be particularly agreeable to them.
* * * * *
_Cenerentola_, however, is far from being an insignificant heroine, and
Madame Giorgi-Righetti sang the music admirably, as a year before she
had sung that of _Rosina_. She was especially applauded for her
brilliant delivery of the final rondo, "Non piu mesta." This was the
fourth and last time that Rossini concluded an opera with an air of
display for the _prima donna_. It seemed to him, no doubt, that the
device had now been sufficiently employed--which, however, did not force
his successors to be of the same opinion.
As to the borrowed pieces in "Cenerentola," the history of the air "Miei
Rampolli" has been already traced through two operas. It belonged
originally to "La Pietra del Paragone," together with the duet "Un Soave
non so che," the drinking chorus, and the burlesque proclamation of the
Baron. The sestet, the stretta of the finale, the duet "Zitto, Zitto,"
were taken from "Il Turco in Italia."
"Cenerentola" was the last of the great _prima donna_ parts which
Rossini composed for the contralto voice. He wrote nothing more, then,
either for Madame Giorgi-Righetti, or for Madame Marcolini, the original
_Tancredi_.
"La Cenerentola" seems to have been intended as a pendent to "Il
Barbiere," and at one time almost rivalled that work in popularity.
Sontag, Malibran, Alboni, have appeared with brilliant success in the
part of the heroine, which, like those of _Rosina_ and _Isabella_, has
often been sung by sopranos since the general dethronement of the
contralto by the soprano voice in principal characters. But of late
years this opera has seldom been played, and in England not since Madame
Alboni's last series of performances at Her Majesty's Theatre.