intensely mournful aria ("In des Lebens Frühlingstagen"), which has a
rapturous finale ("Und spür' Ich nicht linde"), as he sees his wife in
a vision. Rocco and Fidelio enter and begin digging the grave, to the
accompaniment of sepulchral music. She discovers that Florestan has
sunk back exhausted, and as she restores him recognizes her husband.
Don Pizarro enters, and after ordering Fidelio away, who meanwhile
conceals herself, attempts to stab Florestan. Fidelio, who has been
closely watching him, springs forward with a shriek, and interposes
herself between him and her husband. He once more advances to carry
out his purpose, when Fidelio draws a pistol and defies him. As she
does so, the sound of a trumpet is heard outside announcing the
arrival of Don Fernando. Don Pizarro rushes out in despair, and
Florestan and Leonora, no longer Fidelio, join in a duet ("O Namenlose
Freude") which is the very ecstasy of happiness. In the last scene Don
Fernando sets the prisoners free in the name of the king, and among
them Florestan. Pizarro is revealed in his true character, and is led
away to punishment. The happy pair are reunited, and Marcellina, to
Jacquino's delight, consents to marry him. The act closes with a
general song of jubilee. As a drama and as an opera "Fidelio" stands
almost alone in its perfect purity, in the moral grandeur of its
subject, and in the resplendent ideality of its music.
BELLINI.
Vincenzo Bellini was born Nov. 3, 1802, at Catania, Sicily, and came
of musical parentage. By the generosity of a patron he was sent to
Naples, and studied at the Conservatory under Zingarelli. His first
opera was "Adelson e Salvino," and its remarkable merit secured him a
commission from the manager, Barbaja, for an opera for San Carlo. The
result was his first important work, "Bianca e Fernando," written in
1826. Its success was moderate; but he was so encouraged that he at
once went to Milan and wrote "Il Pirata," the tenor part for Rubini.
Its success was extraordinary, and the managers of La Scala
commissioned him for another work. In 1828 "La Straniera" appeared,
quickly followed by "Zaira" (1829), which failed at Parma, and "I
Capuletti ed i Montecchi," a version of "Romeo and Juliet," which made
a great success at Venice in 1830. A year later he composed "La
Sonnambula," unquestionably his best work, for La Scala, and it
speedily made the tour of Europe, and gained for him an extended
reputation. A year after its appearance he astonished the musical
world with "Norma," written, like "Sonnambula," for Mme. Pasta. These
are his greatest works. "Norma" was followed by "Beatrice di Tenda,"
and this by "I Puritani," his last opera, written in Paris for the
four great artists, Grisi, Rubini, Tamburini, and Lablache. Bellini
died Sept. 23, 1835, in the twenty-ninth year of his age, preserving
his musical enthusiasm to the very last. He was a close follower of
Rossini, and studied his music diligently, and though without a very
profound knowledge of harmony or orchestration, succeeded in producing
at least three works, "Norma," "Sonnambula," and "I Puritani," which
were the delight of the opera-goers of his day, and still freshly hold
the stage.
NORMA.
"Norma," a serious opera in two acts, words by Romani, was first
produced during the season of Lent, 1832, at Milan, with the principal
parts cast as follows:--
NORMA Mme. PASTA.
ADALGISA Mme. GRISI.
POLLIONE Sig. DONZELLI.
It was first heard in London in 1833, and in Paris in 1855, and
Planché's English version of it was produced at Drury Lane in 1837.
The scene of the opera is laid among the Druids, in Gaul, after its
occupation by the Roman legions. In the first scene the Druids enter
with Oroveso, their priest, to the impressive strains of a religious
march which is almost as familiar as a household word. The priest
announces that Norma, the high priestess, will come and cut the sacred
branch and give the signal for the expulsion of the Romans. The next
scene introduces Pollione, the Roman proconsul, to whom Norma, in
defiance of her faith and traditions, has bound herself in secret
marriage, and by whom she has had two children. In a charmingly
melodious scena ("Meco all' altar di Venere") he reveals his
faithlessness and guilty love for Adalgisa, a young virgin of the
temple, who has consented to abandon her religion and fly with him to
Rome. In the fourth scene Norma enters attended by her priestesses,
and denounces the Druids for their warlike disposition, declaring that
the time has not yet come for shaking off the yoke of Rome, and that
when it does she will give the signal from the altar of the Druids.
After cutting the sacred mistletoe, she comes forward and invokes
peace from the moon in that exquisite prayer, "Casta Diva," which
electrified the world with its beauty and tenderness, and still holds
its place in popular favor, not alone by the grace of its
embellishments, but by the pathos of its melody. It is followed by
another cavatina of almost equal beauty and tenderness ("Ah! bello a
me ritorna"). In the next scene Adalgisa, retiring from the sacred
rites, sings of her love for Pollione, and as she closes is met by the
proconsul, who once more urges her to fly to Rome with him. The duet
between them is one of great power and beauty, and contains a
strikingly passionate number for the tenor ("Va, crudele"). Oppressed
by her conscience, she reveals her fatal promise to Norma, and
implores absolution from her vows. Norma yields to her entreaties, but
when she inquires the name and country of her lover, and Adalgisa
points to Pollione as he enters Norma's sanctuary, all the priestess's
love turns to wrath. In this scene the duet, "Perdoni e ti compiango,"
is one of exceeding loveliness and peculiarly melodious tenderness.
The act closes with a terzetto of great power ("O! di qual sei tu"),
in which both the priestess and Adalgisa furiously denounce the
faithless Pollione. In the midst of their imprecations the sound of
the sacred shield is heard calling Norma to the rites.
The second act opens in Norma's dwelling, and discovers her children
asleep on a couch. Norma enters with the purpose of killing them, but
the maternal instinct overcomes her vengeful thought that they are
Pollione's children. Adalgisa appears, and Norma announces her
intention to place her children in the Virgin's hands, and send her
and them to Pollione while she expiates her offence on the funeral
pyre. Adalgisa pleads with her not to abandon Pollione, who will
return to her repentant; and the most effective number in the opera
ensues,--the grand duet containing two of Bellini's most beautiful
inspirations, the "Deh! con te li prendi," and the familiar "Mira, O
Norma," whose strains have gone round the world and awakened universal
delight. Pollione, maddened by his passion for Adalgisa, impiously
attempts to tear her from the altar in the temple of Irminsul,
whereupon Norma enters the temple and strikes the sacred shield,
summoning the Druids. They meet, and she declares the meaning of the
signal is war, slaughter, and destruction. She chants a magnificent
hymn ("Guerra, guerra"), which is full of the very fury of battle.
Pollione, who has been intercepted in the temple, is brought before
her. Love is still stronger than resentment with her. In a very
dramatic scena ("In mia mano alfin tu sei") she informs him he is in
her power, but she will let him escape if he will renounce Adalgisa
and leave the country. He declares death would be preferable;
whereupon she threatens to denounce Adalgisa. Pity overcomes anger,
however. She snatches the sacred wreath from her brow and declares
herself the guilty one. Too late Pollione discovers the worth of the
woman he has abandoned, and a beautiful duet ("Qual cor tradisti")
forms the closing number. She ascends the funeral pyre with Pollione,
and in its flames they are purged of earthly crime. It is a memorable
fact in the history of this opera, that on its first performance it
was coldly received, and the Italian critics declared it had no
vitality; though no opera was ever written in which such intense
dramatic effect has been produced with simple melodic force, and no
Italian opera score to-day is more living or more likely to last than
that of Norma.
LA SONNAMBULA.
"La Sonnambula," an opera in two acts, words by Romani, was first
produced in Milan, March 6, 1831, with the following cast:--
AMINA Mme. PASTA.
ELVINO Sig. RUBINI.
RODOLFO Sig. MARIANO.
LISA Mme. TOCCANI.
It was brought out in the same year in Paris and London, and two years
after in English, with Malibran as Amina. The subject of the story was
taken from a vaudeville and ballet by Scribe. The scene is laid in
Switzerland. Amina, an orphan, the ward of Teresa, the miller's wife,
is about to marry Elvino, a well-to-do landholder of the village.
Lisa, mistress of the inn, is also in love with Elvino, and jealous of
her rival. Alessio, a peasant lad, is also in love with the landlady.
Such is the state of affairs on the day before the wedding. Rodolfo,
the young lord of the village, next appears upon the scene. He has
arrived incognito for the purpose of looking up his estates, and stops
at Lisa's inn, where he meets Amina. He gives her many pretty
compliments, much to the dissatisfaction of the half-jealous Elvino,
who is inclined to quarrel with the disturber of his peace of mind.
Amina, who is subject to fits of somnambulism, has been mistaken for a
ghost by the peasants, and they warn Rodolfo that the village is
haunted. The information, however, does not disturb him, and he
quietly retires to his chamber. The officious Lisa also enters, and a
playful scene of flirtation ensues, during which Amina enters the
room, walking in her sleep. Lisa seeks shelter in a closet. Rodolfo,
to escape from the embarrassment of the situation, leaves the
apartment, and Amina reclines upon the bed as if it were her own. The
malicious Lisa hurries from the room to inform Elvino of what she has
seen, and thoughtlessly leaves her handkerchief. Elvino rushes to the
spot with other villagers, and finding Amina, as Lisa had described,
declares that she is guilty, and leaves her. Awakened by the noise,
the unfortunate girl, realizing the situation, sorrowfully throws
herself into Teresa's arms. The villagers implore Rodolfo to acquit
Amina of any blame, and he stoutly protests her innocence; but it is
of no avail in satisfying Elvino, who straightway offers his hand to
Lisa. In the last act Amina is seen stepping from the window of the
mill in her sleep. She crosses a frail bridge which yields beneath her
weight and threatens to precipitate her upon the wheel below; but she
passes it in safety, descends to the ground, and walks into her
lover's arms amid the jubilant songs of the villagers. Elvino is
convinced of her innocence, and they are wedded at once, while the
discovery of Lisa's handkerchief in Rodolfo's room pronounces her the
faithless one.
Such is the simple little pastoral story to which Bellini has set some
of his most beautiful melodies, the most striking of which are the
aria, "Sovra il sen," in the third scene of the first act, where Amina
declares her happiness to Teresa; the beautiful aria for barytone in
the sixth scene, "Vi ravviso," descriptive of Rodolfo's delight in
revisiting the scenes of his youth; the playful duet between Amina and
Elvino, "Mai piu dubbi!" in which she rebukes him for his jealousy;
the humorous and very characteristic chorus of the villagers in the
tenth scene, "Osservate, l'uscio è aperto," as they tiptoe into
Rodolfo's apartment; the duet, "O mio dolor," in the next scene, in
which Amina asserts her innocence; the aria for tenor in the third
scene of the second act, "Tutto e sciolto," in which Elvino bemoans
his sad lot; and that joyous ecstatic outburst of birdlike melody,
"Ah! non giunge," which closes the opera. In fact, "Sonnambula" is so
replete with melodies of the purest and tenderest kind, that it is
difficult to specify particular ones. It is exquisitely idyllic
throughout, and the music is as quiet, peaceful, simple, and tender as
the charming pastoral scenes it illustrates.
I PURITANI.
"I Puritani di Scozia," an opera in two acts, words by Count Pepoli,
was first produced at the Théâtre Italien, Paris, Jan. 25, 1835, and
in London in the following May, under the title of "I Puritani ed i
Cavalieri." The original cast was as follows:--
ELVIRA Mme. GRISI.
ARTURO Sig. RUBINI.
RICARDO Sig. TAMBURINI.
GIORGIO Sig. LABLACHE.
This cast was one of unexampled strength, and was long known in Europe
as the Puritani quartet. The story of the opera is laid in England,
during the war between Charles II. and his Parliament, and the first
scene opens in Plymouth, then held by the parliamentary forces. The
fortress is commanded by Lord Walton, whose daughter, Elvira, is in
love with Lord Arthur Talbot, a young cavalier in the King's service.
Her hand had previously been promised to Sir Richard Forth, of the
parliamentary army; but to the great delight of the maiden, Sir George
Walton, brother of the commander, brings her the news that her father
has relented, and that Arthur will be admitted into the fortress that
the nuptials may be celebrated. Henrietta, widow of Charles I., is at
this time a prisoner in the fortress, under sentence of death passed
by Parliament. Arthur discovers her situation, and by concealing her
in Elvira's bridal veil seeks to effect her escape. On their way out
he encounters his rival; but the latter, discovering that the veiled
lady is not Elvira, allows them to pass. The escape is soon
discovered, and Elvira, thinking her lover has abandoned her, loses
her reason. Arthur is proscribed by the Parliament and sentenced to
death; but Sir Richard, moved by the appeals of Sir George Walton, who
hopes to restore his niece to reason, promises to use his influence
with Parliament to save Arthur's life should he be captured unarmed.
Arthur meanwhile manages to have an interview with Elvira; and the
latter, though still suffering from her mental malady, listens
joyfully to his explanation of his sudden flight. Their interview is
disturbed by a party of Puritans who enter and arrest him. He is
condemned to die on the spot; but before the sentence can be carried
out, a messenger appears with news of the king's defeat and the pardon
of Arthur. The joyful tidings restore Elvira to reason, and the lovers
are united.
The libretto of "I Puritani" is one of the poorest ever furnished to
Bellini, but the music is some of his best. It is replete with
melodies, which are not only fascinating in their original setting,
but have long been favorites on the concert-stage. The opera is
usually performed in three acts, but was written in two. The prominent
numbers of the first act are the pathetic cavatina for Ricardo, "Ah!
per sempre io ti perdei," in which he mourns the loss of Elvira; a
lovely romanza for tenor ("A te o cara"); a brilliant polacca ("Son
vergin vezzosa") for Elvira, which is one of the delights of all
artists; and a concerted finale, brimming over with melody and closing
with the stirring anathema chorus, "Non casa, non spiaggia." The first
grand number in the second act is Elvira's mad song, "Qui la voce," in
which are brought out not only that rare gift for expressing pathos in
melody for which Bellini is so famous, but the sweetest of themes and
most graceful of embellishments. The remaining numbers are Elvira's
appeal to her lover ("Vien, diletto"), the magnificent duet for basses
("Suoni la tromba"), known as the "Liberty Duet," which in
sonorousness, majesty, and dramatic intensity hardly has an equal in
the whole range of Italian opera; a tender and plaintive romanza for
tenor ("A una fonte aflitto e solo"); a passionate duet for Arthur and
Elvira ("Star teco ognor"); and an adagio, sung by Arthur in the
finale ("Ella è tremante").
BIZET.
Georges Bizet was born at Paris, Oct. 25, 1838, and in an artistic
atmosphere, as his father, an excellent teacher, was married to a
sister of Mme. Delsarte, a talented pianist, and his uncle, a
musician, was the founder of the famous Delsarte system. He studied
successively with Marmontel and Benoist, and subsequently took lessons
in composition from Halevy, whose daughter he afterwards married. His
first work was an operetta of not much consequence, "Docteur Miracle,"
written in 1857, and in the same year he took the Grand Prix de Rome.
On his return from Italy he composed "Vasco de Gama" and "Les Pecheurs
de Perles," neither of which met with much success. In 1867 "La Jolie
Fille de Perth" appeared, and in 1872, "Djamileh." During the
intervals of these larger works he wrote the Patrie overture and the
interludes to "L'Arlesienne," a very poetical score which Theodore
Thomas introduced to this country, and both works were received with
enthusiasm. At last he was to appreciate and enjoy a real dramatic
success, though it was his last work. "Carmen" appeared in 1875, and
achieved a magnificent success at the Opera Comique. It was brought
out in March, and in the following June he died of acute
heart-disease. He was a very promising composer, and specially
excelled in orchestration. During his last few years he was a close
student of Wagner, whose influence is apparent in this last work of
his life.
CARMEN.
"Carmen," an opera in four acts, words by Meilhac and Halevy, adapted
from Prosper Merimée's romance of "Carmen," was first produced at the
Opera Comique, Paris, March 3, 1875, with Mme. Galli-Marie in the
title-rôle and Mlle. Chapuy as Michaela. The scene is laid in Seville,
time 1820. The first act opens in the public square, filled with a
troop of soldiers under command of Don José, and loungers who are
waiting the approach of the pretty girls who work in the cigar-factory
near by, and prettiest and most heartless of them all, Carmen. Before
they appear, Michaela, a village girl, enters the square, bearing a
message to Don José from his mother, but not finding him departs. The
cigar-girls at last pass by on their way to work, and with them
Carmen, who observes Don José sitting in an indifferent manner and
throws him the rose she wears in her bosom. As they disappear,
Michaela returns and delivers her message. The sight of the gentle
girl and the thought of home dispel Don José's sudden passion for
Carmen. He is about to throw away her rose, when a sudden disturbance
is heard in the factory. It is found that Carmen has quarrelled with
one of the girls and wounded her. She is arrested, and to prevent
further mischief her arms are pinioned. She so bewitches the
lieutenant, however, that he connives at her escape and succeeds in
effecting it, while she is led away to prison by the soldiers. In the
second act Carmen has returned to her wandering gypsy life, and we
find her with her companions in the cabaret of Lillas-Pastia, singing
and dancing. Among the new arrivals is Escamillo, the victorious
bull-fighter of Grenada, with whom Carmen is at once fascinated. When
the inn is closed, Escamillo and the soldiers depart, but Carmen waits
with two of the gypsies, who are smugglers, for the arrival of Don
José. They persuade her to induce him to join their band, and when the
lieutenant, wild with passion for her, enters the apartment, she
prevails upon him to remain in spite of the trumpet-call which summons
him to duty. An officer appears and orders him out. He refuses to go,
and when the officer attempts to use force Carmen summons the gypsies.
He is soon overpowered, and Don José escapes to the mountains. The
third act opens in the haunt of the smugglers, a wild, rocky,
cavernous place. Don José and Carmen, who is growing very indifferent
to him, are there. As the contrabandists finish their work and
gradually leave the scene, Escamillo, who has been following Carmen,
appears. His presence and his declarations as well arouse the jealousy
of Don José. They rush at each other for mortal combat, but the
smugglers separate them. Escamillo bides his time, invites them to the
approaching bullfight at Seville, and departs. While Don José is
upbraiding Carmen, the faithful Michaela, who has been guided to the
spot, begs him to accompany her, as his mother is dying. Duty
prevails, and he follows her as Escamillo's taunting song is heard
dying away in the distance. In the last act the drama hurries on to
the tragic dénouement. It is a gala-day in Seville, for Escamillo is
to fight. Carmen is there in his company, though her gypsy friends
have warned her Don José is searching for her. Amid great pomp
Escamillo enters the arena, and Carmen is about to follow, when Don
José appears and stops her. He appeals to her and tries to awaken the
old love. She will not listen, and at last in a fit of wild rage hurls
the ring he had given her at his feet. The shouts of the people in the
arena announce another victory for Escamillo. She cries out with joy.
Don José springs at her like a tiger, and stabs her just as Escamillo
emerges from the contest.
Carmen is the largest and best-considered of all Bizet's works, and
one of the best in the modern French repertory. The overture is short
but very brilliant. After some characteristic choruses by the street
lads, soldiers, and cigar-girls, Carmen sings the Havanaise ("Amor,
misterioso angelo"), a quaint song in waltz time, the melody being
that of an old Spanish song by Tradier, called "El Aveglito." A
serious duet between Michaela and Don José ("Mia madre io la rivedo")
follows, which is very tender in its character. The next striking
number is the dance tempo, "Presso il bastion de Seviglia," a
seguidilla sung by Carmen while bewitching Don José. In the finale, as
she escapes, the Havanaise, which is the Carmen motive, is heard
again.
The second-act music is peculiarly Spanish in color, particularly that
for the ballet. The opening song of the gypsies in the cabaret, to the
accompaniment of the castanets ("Vezzi e anella scintillar"), is
bewitching in its rhythm, and is followed in the next scene by a
stirring and very picturesque aria ("Toreador attento"), in which
Escamillo describes the bull-fight. A beautifully written quintet
("Abbiamo in vista"), and a strongly dramatic duet, beginning with
another fascinating dance tempo ("Voglio danzar pel tuo piacer"), and
including a beautiful pathetic melody for Don José ("Il fior che
avevi"), closes the music of the act.
The third act contains two very striking numbers, the terzetto of the
card-players in the smugglers' haunt ("Mischiam! alziam!"), and
Michaela's aria ("Io dico no, non son paurosa"), the most effective
and beautiful number in the whole work, and the one which shows most
clearly the effect of Wagner's influence upon the composer. In the
finale of the act the Toreador's song is again heard as he disappears
in the distance after the quarrel with Don José.
The last act is a hurly-burly of the bull-fight, the Toreador's taking
march, the stormy duet between Don José and Carmen, and the tragic
dénouement in which the Carmen motive is repeated. The color of the
whole work is Spanish, and the dance tempo is freely used and
beautifully worked up with Bizet's ingenious and scholarly
instrumentation. Except in the third act, however, the vocal parts are
inferior to the orchestral treatment.
BOIELDIEU.
François Adrien Boieldieu was born Dec. 16, 1775, at Rouen, France.
Little is known of his earlier life, except that he studied for a time
with Broche, the cathedral organist. His first opera, "La Fille
Coupable," appeared in 1793, and was performed at Rouen with some
success. In 1795 a second opera, "Rosalie et Myrza," was performed in
the same city; after which he went to Paris, where he became
acquainted with many prominent musicians, among them Cherubini. His
first Paris opera was the "Famille Suisse" (1797), which had a
successful run. Several other operas followed, besides some excellent
pieces of chamber music which secured him the professorship of the
piano in the Conservatory. He also took lessons at this time of
Cherubini in counterpoint, and in 1803 brought out a very successful
work, "Ma Tante Aurore." We next hear of him in St. Petersburg, as
conductor of the Imperial Opera, where he composed many operas and
vaudevilles. He spent eight years in Russia, returning to Paris in
1811. The next year one of his best operas, "Jean de Paris," was
produced with extraordinary success. Though he subsequently wrote many
operas, fourteen years elapsed before his next great work, "La Dame
Blanche," appeared. Its success was unprecedented. All Europe was
delighted with it, and it is as fresh to-day as when it was first
produced. The remainder of Boieldieu's life was sad, owing to operatic
failures, pecuniary troubles, and declining health. He died at Jarcy,
near Paris, Oct. 8, 1834.
LA DAME BLANCE.