"Martha," an opera in three acts, libretto by St. Georges, translated
into German by Friedrich, was first produced at Vienna, Nov. 25, 1847,
with Mlle. Anna Zerr in the title-rôle, Herr Ander as Lionel, and Carl
Formes as Plunkett. It was first produced in English and Italian at
London in 1858, and in French at Paris in 1865. The history of its
origin is interesting. M. de St. Georges, at the request of the
manager of the Paris Grand Opera, wrote in 1842 the libretto to a
ballet entitled "Lady Henrietta, or the Servant of Greenwich," the
subject being suggested to him by the adventures of two ladies of his
acquaintance who had mingled with servants at a fair. The music was
confided to three composers. The first act was given to Herr von
Flotow, the second to Herr Burgmuller, and the third to M. Deldeves.
The ballet had such a remarkable success, and Flotow was so delighted
with the plot, that he entreated St. Georges to rewrite it for an
opera. The latter consented, and the result of their collaboration was
the appearance of one of the most popular operas which has ever been
placed upon the stage.
The scene of the opera is laid at Richmond, England, and the time is
during the reign of Queen Anne, though the Italian version places it
in the fifteenth century, and the French in the nineteenth. Lady
Henrietta, an attendant upon the Queen, tired of the amusements of
court life, contrives a plan to visit the servants' fair at Richmond
disguised as a servant-girl, and accompanied by Nancy, her maid, and
Sir Tristan, her somewhat aged cousin, who is also her devoted
admirer. In the first three scenes their plans are laid much to the
disgust of Sir Tristan, who is to pass as John, while his fair cousin
masquerades as Martha. The duet between the ladies ("Of the Knights so
brave and charming"), and the trio with Tristan, are in dance time,
and full of animation. The fourth scene opens in the market-place at
Richmond, where the people are gathering to the fair. Thither also
resort Plunkett, a farmer, and Lionel, his brother by adoption, whose
parentage is unknown, and who has no souvenir of his father except a
ring which has been left for him, with instructions to present it to
the Queen if he ever finds himself in trouble. Lionel tells his story
in an aria ("Lost, proscribed, an humble Stranger") which is
universally popular, and the melody of which has been set to various
words. They have come to the fair to procure help for their farm.
While the sheriff, according to law, is binding the girls for a year's
service, Plunkett and Lionel meet Martha and Nancy, and are so
delighted with their appearance that they tender them the customary
bonus, or "earnest-money," which secures them. Too late for escape,
they find that they are actually engaged, and they are obliged to
drive away with the young farmers, leaving Sir Tristan in despair.
The second act opens in the farm-house, where the four have arrived.
The farmers inquire their names, and seek to find out what they can
do, testing them first at the spinning-wheel. The spinning quartet
("When the Foot the Wheel turns lightly") is very gay and full of
humor, and is one of the most delightful concerted numbers in the
opera. The brothers soon find that their new servants are useless, but
they are so pleased with them that they decide to keep them. At last
Nancy, in a pet, kicks her wheel over and runs off, followed by
Plunkett. Lionel, left alone with Martha, grows very tender to the new
servant, and at last finds himself violently in love. He snatches a
rose from her bosom, and refuses to return it unless she will consent
to sing. She replies with the familiar ballad, "'Tis the last Rose of
Summer," which Flotow has interpolated in this scene, and in the
performance of which he makes a charming effect by introducing the
tenor in the close. Her singing only makes him the more desperately
enamoured, and he asks her to be his wife on the spot, only to find
himself the victim of Martha's sport, although his devotion and
sincerity have made a deep impression upon her. Plunkett and Nancy at
last return, and another charming quartet follows ("Midnight sounds"),
better known as the "Good Night Quartet." The two brothers retire, but
Martha and Nancy, aided by Tristan, who has followed them and
discovered their whereabouts, make good their escape. The next scene
opens in the woods, where several farmers are drinking and carousing,
among them Plunkett, who sings a rollicking drinking-song ("I want to
ask you"). Their sport is interrupted by a hunting-party, composed of
the Queen and her court ladies. Plunkett and Lionel recognize their
fugitive servants among them, though the ladies disclaim all knowledge
of them. Plunkett attempts to seize Nancy, but the huntresses attack
him and chase him away, leaving Lionel and Lady Henrietta together
again. The scene contains two of the most beautiful numbers in the
opera,--the tenor solo, "Like a Dream bright and fair" ("M' appari" in
the Italian version), and a romance for soprano ("Here in deepest
forest Shadows"); and the act closes with a beautiful concerted
finale, quintet and chorus, which is worked up with great power. In
this finale the despairing Lionel bethinks him of his ring. He gives
it to Plunkett, desiring him to present it to the Queen. By means of
the jewel it is discovered that he is the only son of the late Earl of
Derby, and she orders his estates, of which he has been unjustly
deprived, to be restored to him.
The last act is not important in a musical sense, for the climax is
attained in the previous finale. The dramatic dénouement is soon
reached, and the Lady Henrietta, who has for some time been seriously
in love with Lionel, is at last united to him; and it is almost
needless to add that the fortunes of Plunkett and Nancy are also
joined. The charm of "Martha" is its liveliness in action and
tunefulness in music. Though not a great opera from a musical point of
view, it is one of the most popular in the modern repertory, and
though few others have been performed so many times, it still retains
that popularity. Its melodies, though sung in every country of the
civilized world by amateurs and professional artists, have not yet
lost their charms.
STRADELLA.
"Stradella," a romantic opera in three acts, was first written as a
lyric drama and produced at the Palais Royal Theatre, Paris, in 1837,
and was subsequently rewritten in its present form under the title of
"Alessandro Stradella" and produced at Hamburg, Dec. 30, 1844. The
English version, which was somewhat altered by Bunn, was produced in
London, June 6, 1846. The story follows the historic narrative of
Stradella, the Italian musician, except in the dénouement. Stradella
woos and wins Leonora, the fair ward of Bassi, a rich Venetian
nobleman, with whom the latter is himself in love. They fly to Rome
and are married. Bassi hires two bravoes, Barbarino and Malvolio, to
follow them and kill Stradella. They track him to his house, and while
the bridal party are absent enter and conceal themselves, Bassi being
with them. Upon this occasion, however, they do not wait to accomplish
their purpose. Subsequently they gain admission again in the guise of
pilgrims, and are hospitably received by Stradella. In the next scene
Stradella, Leonora, and the two bravoes are together in the same
apartment, singing the praises of their native Italy. During their
laudations the chorus of a band of pilgrims on their way to the shrine
of the Virgin is heard, and Leonora and Stradella go out to greet
them. The bravoes have been so moved by Stradella's singing that they
hesitate in their purpose. Bassi enters and upbraids them, and
finally, by the proffer of a still larger sum, induces them to consent
to carry out his design. They conceal themselves. Stradella returns
and rehearses a hymn to the Virgin which he is to sing at the
festivities on the morrow. Its exquisite beauty touches them so deeply
that they rush out of their hiding-place, and falling at his feet
confess the object of their visit and implore his forgiveness. Leonora
enters, and is astonished to find her guardian present. Explanations
follow, a reconciliation is effected, and the lovers are happy. The
dénouement differs from the historical story, which, according to
Bonnet, Bourdelot, and others, ends with the death of the lovers at
Genoa, at the hands of the hired assassins.
The opera is one of the most charming of Flotow's works for its apt
union of very melodious music with dramatic interest. Its most
beautiful numbers are Stradella's serenade ("Horch, Liebchen,
horch!"), the following nocturne ("Durch die Thäler, über Hügel"), the
brilliant and animated carnival chorus ("Freudesausen, Jubelbrausen")
of the masqueraders who assist in the elopement, in the first act; the
aria of Leonora in her bridal chamber ("Seid meiner Wonne"), the
rollicking drinking-song of the two bravoes ("'Raus mit dem Nass aus
dem Fass") and the bandit ballad ("Tief in den Abruzzen ") sung by
Stradella, in the second act; an exquisite terzetto ("Sag doch an,
Freund Barbarino") sung by Bassi and the two bravoes when they
hesitate to perform their work, and Stradella's lovely hymn to the
Virgin ("Jungfrau Maria! Himmlisch verklärte"), in the last act.
GLUCK.
Christoph Willibald Gluck, one of the most eminent of German operatic
composers, was born at Weidenwang in the Upper Palatinate, July 2,
1714. He began his musical studies in a Bohemian Jesuits' School at
the age of twelve. In his eighteenth year he went to Prague, where he
continued his education with Czernhorsky. Four years later he was
fortunate enough to secure Prince Melzi for a patron, who sent him to
Milan, where he completed his studies with Sammartini. From 1741 to
1745 he produced numerous operas, which were well received, and in the
latter year visited London, where he brought out several works, among
them "La Caduta de' Giganti." His English experience was far from
satisfactory, and he soon returned to Germany, stopping at Paris on
the way, where Rameau's operas had a strong influence upon him. From
1746 to 1762 he wrote a large number of operas, with varying success
so far as performance was concerned, but with great and lasting
benefit to his style and fame, as was shown when his "Orpheus" was
first produced, Oct. 5, 1762. Its success determined him at once to
acquaint the musical world with his purpose to reform the opera by
making it dramatically musical instead of purely lyric, thus paving
the way for the great innovator of Baireuth. "Alceste," produced in
1767, was the first embodiment of these ideas. Strong criticism
greeted it, to which he replied with "Iphigénie en Aulide," written in
1772, and performed for the first time in Paris two years later, under
the auspices of Marie Antoinette, who had once been his pupil. It was
followed by "Orpheus and Eurydice," adapted from his earlier work of
the same name, which met with brilliant success. In 1777 he brought
out "Armide." It aroused an unprecedented excitement. Piccini was at
that time in Paris. He was the representative of the old Italian
school. His partisans gathered about him, and a furious war was waged
between the Gluckists and Piccinists for three or four years; the
combatants displaying a bitterness of criticism and invective even
worse than that which Wagner brought down upon his devoted head. When
Gluck brought out his great work, "Iphigénie en Tauride," in 1779,
however, the Piccinists quitted the field and acknowledged the
reformer's superiority. "Echo et Narcisse" was written in the same
year, but "Iphigénie en Tauride" was his last great work. He retired
shortly afterwards to Vienna, where he died Nov. 15, 1787.
ORPHEUS.
"Orpheus," the libretto by the Italian poet Calzabigi, was first
produced at Vienna, Oct. 5, 1762, and for the first time outlined the
new ideas which Gluck had advanced for the reform of the lyric stage.
Twelve years later the composer revised the work. Several new numbers
were added, its acts were extended to three, and the principal rôle
was rewritten for a high tenor in place of the alto, to whom it had
been originally assigned. In this form it was brought out at the Paris
Académie, Aug. 2, 1774. In 1859 it was revived in Paris, for which
occasion Berlioz restored the original alto part for Mme.
Viardot-Garcia. With its performances in this country by the American
Opera Troupe during the season of 1885-86, under the direction of Mr.
Theodore Thomas, our readers are already familiar. The three soloists
during that season were Helene Hastreiter, Emma Juch, and Minnie
Dilthey.
The story, except in its denouement, closely follows the antique
legend. After performing the funeral rites of Eurydice, Orpheus
resolves to seek for her in the world of Shades, having received
permission from Zeus upon condition that he will not look upon her
until they have safely returned. Orpheus descends to Hades; and though
his way is barred by phantoms, his pleading appeals and the tender
tones of his harp induce them to make way for him. He finds Eurydice
in the Elysian fields, and taking her by the hand leads her on to the
upper world. In a fatal moment he yields to her desire to see him, and
she sinks back lifeless. Love, however, comes to the rescue, and full
of compassion restores her. Thus the happy lovers are reunited; and
the opera closes without the tragic denouement of the old myth. In the
American performances the opera was divided into four acts, which is
the order we shall follow.
The short overture is characterized by a grandeur and solemnity that
well befit the pathetic story. The curtain rises upon a grotto
containing the tomb of Eurydice, against which Orpheus mournfully
leans, while upon its steps youths and maidens are strewing flowers as
they chant the sombre song, "Ah! in our still and mournful Meadow."
The sad wail of Orpheus upon the single word "Eurydice" is heard
through its strains, which continually increase in solemnity. At last,
as if too much to bear, Orpheus interrupts their threnody with the
words, "The Sounds of your Lament increase my bitter Anguish." The
chorus in reply resumes its melancholy tribute to Eurydice and then
retires, leaving Orpheus alone, who in a monologue full of pathos and
sorrow ("My Eurydice! my Eurydice! lost forever"), sings his grief and
implores the gods to restore his loved one. In answer to his prayer,
Amor, god of love, appears and announces that the gods have been moved
to compassion; and if his song and lyre can appease the phantoms,
death shall give back Eurydice upon the conditions already named. The
act closes with the joyful song of Orpheus: "Will pitying Heaven with
wondrous Favor restore mine own?"
The second act opens in the abysses of the underworld. Flames shoot up
amid great masses of rock and from yawning caverns, throwing their
lurid glare upon the phantoms, who writhing in furious indignation
demand in wild and threatening chorus, as the tones of Orpheus's lyre
are heard, "Who through this awful Place, thinking alive to pass,
rashly dares venture here?" Madly they call upon Cerberus "to kill thy
new Prey here." The barking of the triple-headed monster is heard in
the tones of the orchestra. They surround Orpheus as he approaches,
and with renewed clamor continue this thrilling chorus. In the midst
of its cruel intensity is heard the appealing voice of Orpheus ("In
Pity be moved by my Grief"). With overwhelming wrath comes the
reiterated monosyllable, "No," from the Furies,--one of the most
daring and powerful effects ever made in dramatic music,--followed by
another appalling chorus, as they announce to him, "These are the
Depths of Hell, where the Avengers dwell." At last they are touched by
the charm of his music and the sorrow of his story; and as their fury
dies away, the song of Orpheus grows more exultant as he contemplates
the reunion with Eurydice.
The gates of the lower world are opened, and in the third act Orpheus
enters Elysium. The scene begins with a tender, lovely song by
Eurydice and her companions ("In this tranquil and lovely Abode of the
Blest"), the melody taken by the flute with string accompaniment. All
is bright and cheerful and in striking contrast with the gloom and
terror of the Stygian scene we have just left. After a short
recitative ("How mild a Day, without a Noon"), Orpheus seeks her. She
is brought to him by a crowd of shadows; and breaking out in joyful
song he takes her by the hand and turns his face to the upper world.
The fourth act is almost entirely an impassioned duet between Orpheus
and Eurydice. He releases her hand for fear that he may turn and look
upon her. Eurydice chides him ("Am I changed or grown old that thou
wilt not behold me?"). In vain he urges her to follow him. She
upbraids him for his coldness, and demands one glance as a test of his
love. He still refuses, and then she sorrowfully bids him farewell. At
last, overcome with weariness and sorrow, he gazes upon her; and at
that instant she falls lifeless. Then Orpheus breaks out in that
immortal song, the _Che faro senza Eurydice_ ("I have lost my
Eurydice"), the beauty and pathos of which neither time nor change of
musical custom can ever mar. He is about to take his life with his
sword; but Amor suddenly appears upon the scene, stays his hand, and
tells him the gods are moved by his sufferings. He restores Eurydice
to life, and the opera closes with a beautiful terzetto in Love's
temple. The denouement is followed by ballet music.
GOETZ.
Hermann Goetz, to whose life attaches a mournful interest, was born at
Koenigsberg, Dec. 17, 1840. He had no regular instruction in music
until his seventeenth year. At that period he began his studies with
Köhler, and then passed successively under the tuition of Stern,
Ulrich, and Von Bülow. At the age of twenty-three he obtained a
position as organist at Winterthur, and also taught at Zurich. It was
during this time that he composed his opera, "The Taming of the
Shrew," meanwhile supporting himself as he best could, sometimes
struggling with actual poverty. For years he attempted to secure a
hearing for his opera; but it was not until 1874 that its great merit
was recognized, for in that year it was produced at Mannheim with
instant success. Its fame travelled all over Germany. It was performed
in Vienna in 1875, and the same year in Leipsic and Berlin, and
reached London in 1878. It was not heard in this country until the
season of 1885-86, when it was produced by the American Opera Company.
The composer did not live long enough, however, to enjoy the fruits of
his work, as he died in 1876. He also left behind him an unfinished
score of a second opera, "Francesca di Rimini," which was completed by
his friend Franke at his request, but proved a failure. His other
works include a symphony in F, a suite for orchestra, and many chamber
compositions.
THE TAMING OF THE SHREW.
"The Taming of the Shrew," as related in the sketch of the composer's
life, was written about the year 1863, and first produced at Mannheim
in 1872. Its first performance in this country was in January, 1886,
when the cast was as follows:--
KATHARINE PAULINE L'ALLEMAND.
BIANCA KATE BENSBERG.
PETRUCHIO WILLIAM H. LEE.
BAPTISTA W.H. HAMILTON.
LUCENTIO W.H. FESSENDEN.
HORTENSIO ALONZO STODDARD.
A TAILOR JOHN HOWSON.
The libretto is freely adapted from Shakspeare's comedy by Joseph
Victor Widmann. The plot is very simple. Baptista, a rich Paduan
gentleman, has two daughters,--Katharine, the shrew, and Bianca, of
sweet and lovable disposition. Both Hortensio and Lucentio are in love
with Bianca; but the obdurate father will not listen to either until
Katharine shall have been married. In this apparently hopeless
situation a gleam of comfort appears, in the suit which the rich
gallant Petruchio, of Verona, pays to Katharine, in disgust with the
sycophants who have been manifesting such deference to his wealth. The
remainder of the story is occupied with the details of the various
processes by which he breaks and tames the shrew, and the ingenious
ruse by which Lucentio gains the hand of the lovely Bianca.
The curtain rises upon a night scene in Padua, with Lucentio before
Bianca's house singing a melodious serenade. Its strains are
interrupted, however, by a hurly-burly in the house, caused by the
shrew's demonstrations. The tumult is transferred to the street, and
gives occasion for a very vigorous ensemble. When the crowd disperses,
Lucentio resumes his serenade, Bianca appears upon the balcony, and
the two join in a very pleasing duet. This number is also interrupted
by Hortensio, at the head of a band of street musicians, who has also
come to serenade his mistress. The encounter of the two lovers brings
on a quarrel, which is averted, however, by the interposition of
Baptista. A duet follows between them, at the close of which Lucentio
retires. Petruchio now appears upon the scene, and learns from
Hortensio of Katharine's vixenish disposition, which determines him to
woo her. With a stirring song ("She is a Wife for such a Man
created"), the act comes to an end.
The second act opens in a chamber in Baptista's house, where Katharine
is berating Bianca for accepting serenades from suitors, and abuses
her even to blows. The scene closes with a vigorous song for Katharine
("I'll give myself to no one"), which is greeted with cynical applause
by Petruchio, Baptista, Lucentio, and Hortensio, who enter, the last
two disguised as teachers. In the next scene, Petruchio and Katharine
alone, we have the turbulent wooing, which is accompanied throughout
by characteristic music. As the others return Petruchio announces his
success in the song, "All is well," the theme of which is taken by the
quintet, closing the act.
The third is the most interesting act of the three. It opens on the
day selected for the wedding of Katharine and Petruchio, in Baptista's
garden; the first number being a charming quintet for Katharine,
Bianca, Lucentio, Hortensio, and Baptista. The guests are present, but
Petruchio is not there. An explanation is made, followed by a chorus
as the guests leave; and then Bianca is free to take her lessons, in
one of which Lucentio makes his avowal of love to her. The arrangement
of the two lessons is both unique and skilful. Lucentio turns the
familiar opening lines of the Æneid, "Arma virumque cano," etc., into
a love-song by declarations interposed between them; while Hortensio
explains the mysteries of the scale to her, each line of his love-song
beginning with one of its letters. It is soon found, however, that
Lucentio is the accepted lover. Baptista now enters and announces
Petruchio's return, which leads to a charming quartet. The finale of
the opera, which is very spirited, includes the preparations for the
marriage-feast, the wedding, and the scene in which Petruchio abruptly
forces his bride to leave with him for his country house.
GOLDMARK.
Karl Goldmark was born at Keszthely, Hungary, May 18, 1832. He first
studied with the violinist Jansa at Vienna, and in his fifteenth year
entered the Conservatory in that city. Little is known of the events
of his early life. Indeed, his success in his profession is generally
credited more to his native ability and industry than to the influence
of teachers or schools. He began composition at an early period, and
produced his works in concerts with much success under the
encouragement of Hellmesberger and others, who recognized his ability
before he had made any impression out of Vienna. Four of his
compositions during the past fifteen years, the "Sakuntala" overture,
the operas "The Queen of Sheba" and "Merlin," and "Die Iändliche
Hochzeit" (The Country Wedding) symphony have made a permanent
reputation for him. The overture and operas have been performed
several times in this country. Besides these he has written several
pieces of chamber music.
THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
"The Queen of Sheba" was first produced in Vienna, March 10, 1875, and
was first heard in this country at New York, Dec. 2, 1885, when the
cast was as follows:--