How Music Developed / A Critical and Explanatory Account of the Growth of Modern Music

[Monteverde's "Orfeo".]

The opera ends with a dance. In his "Tancredi e Clorinda," an intermezzo produced in Venice in 1624, Monteverde introduced special instrumental effects which were to become of so great importance in opera. These effects I have already described in Chapter XI, and it is necessary to add here only the statement that they were used, not simply as descriptive of action, but also to aid in conveying to the minds of the auditors the impetuosity and passion of the combatants in the remarkable scene of the fight. It gives one something of a shock to find Monteverde indicating the galloping of horses and the fierceness of their riders, rudely indeed, but with the same musical methods as Wagner employed, with their modern development, in his "Ride of the Valkyrs." Monteverde was, indeed, the Wagner of his time. He broke so completely away from old conventions that Artusi, a writer of Bologna, accused him of having lost sight of the true office of music, "to please the ear."

One of the remarkable things (remarkable at that time) done by Monteverde was to introduce the chord of the dominant seventh unprepared. I shall not undertake to explain the nature of this novelty in harmony, lest I merely confuse the lay reader, but shall ask him to content himself with the statement that such an introduction produced one of those sharp dissonances so common in the music of today, and used to express passion. Monteverde began to use these dissonances in his madrigals, of which the Fifth Book, published in 1599, aroused Artusi's ire. But the tremendous effect of the dissonant progressions in "Arianna" quite demolished all the arguments of the opponents of the novelty. Their employment was one of the practices which led directly away from the tonality of the old ecclesiastical scales and toward the modern major and minor keys. Dr. Parry's comments on the work of Monteverde are so pertinent and so lucid that I cannot do better than to quote a part of them:—

"The methods of choral art did not provide for dramatic force or the utterance of passionate feeling; and under such circumstances it was natural that Monteverde should misapply [in his madrigals] his special gifts, which were all in the direction of dramatic expression. The new departure, when it came, was his opportunity. He was not ostensibly a sharer in the first steps of the movement; but directly he joined it he entirely eclipsed all other composers in the field, and in a few years gave it quite a new complexion. For whereas the first composers had not laid any great stress on expression, Monteverde's instinct and aim were chiefly in that direction; and he often sought to emphasize his situations at all costs. His harmonic progressions are for the most part as incoherent as those of his predecessors, and, as might be expected with his peculiar aptitudes, he did very little for design. But he clearly had a very considerable sense of stage effect, and realized that mere monotonous recitative was not the final solution nor even the nucleus of dramatic music. It is true he introduces a great quantity of recitative, but he varies it with instrumental interludes which now and then have some real point and relevancy about them; and with passages of solo music which have definite figure and expression, and with choruses which are more skilfully contrived, and to a certain degree more effective, than those of his predecessors. By this means he broke up the homogeneous texture of the scenes into passages of well-defined diversity, and interested his auditors with contrast, variety, and conspicuously characteristic passages, which heighten the impression of the situation as all stage music should."

Soon after the production of Monteverde's "Tancredi e Clorinda" the opera ceased to be a strictly aristocratic form of entertainment and became public and popular. In 1637 the Teatro San Cassiano was opened to the public as a regular opera house. Opera houses became numerous. Up to 1727 no less than fifteen operatic enterprises were started, and up to 1734 four hundred operas by forty composers had been produced. This, however, carries us far ahead of the period which we are now discussing. The statement is made merely to show that only those Italian composers can now be mentioned who made actual contributions to the development of the lyric drama.

The next who did so contribute after Monteverde was his pupil, Francesco Cavalli (1599-1676), a native of Crema, a town near Venice. He was at one time chapel master of St. Mark's. His first opera, "Le Nozze di Tito e di Peleo," was produced in Venice in 1639. Its recitatives are varied in style and it has instrumental interludes, notably one for hunting horns, of striking character. But it was in his "Giasone," produced in 1649, that Cavalli's most influential music appeared. He was opposed to the banishment of rhythmical music and song-forms from opera simply because the Greeks did not have them. Instrumental forms were beginning to show the influence of folk-music and the popularity of the early collections of dance tunes suggested to Cavalli the possible effectiveness of something similar in vocal style. In his "Giasone," therefore, he foreshadowed the aria da capo (aria with a repeat at its close of the passage with which it began) by making a return to the first part. Cavalli's melodies show a strong movement toward clearness of rhythm and definiteness of shape, though the style continued to be tentative and uncertain. But it is easy to perceive that even in his day Italian opera had begun the movement toward elementary rhythms and harmonies and tunefulness for tune's sake, which were to be its special characteristics for more than two centuries. The improvements in the dramatic recitative and the choral part of oratorio made by Carissimi, Cesti, and Stradella (see Chap. XV.) also influenced composers of opera. The general tendency was in the direction of definitely shaped melodies as a substitute for the formless recitative of Peri and Monteverde. The recitative itself became more characteristic and was diversified with short arioso passages. Furthermore the accompaniment of the recitative was much improved. Peri and Caccini fashioned the slight chords of their accompaniments to recitative so that they might be played on one instrument, for they were jealous of the slightest instrumental interference with their newly invented stilo parlante. Monteverde improved the instrumental part of opera, as we have seen, and frequently accompanied his solo parts with small groups of instruments. Meanwhile Giovanni Gabrieli wrote his church music with orchestral accompaniment, and the opera composers began to see how grand dramatic effects might be produced by using similar means. The result is that in the latter half of the sixteenth century we find different kinds of recitative clearly defined and the aria da capo thoroughly established. The composer who exhibited the most complete mastery of these forms, and who was so influential that he became the founder of the great Neapolitan school of opera writers, was Alessandro Scarlatti.

He was born at Trapani in Sicily in 1659. The record of his early life is lost, but his career as a famous composer seems to have been fairly begun when he produced his opera "Pompeo" at Naples in 1684. He wrote 115 operas, of which 41 are extant in score. They have all ceased to be performed, but their historical interest is great. Scarlatti died Oct. 24, 1725. It is hardly necessary for the purposes of this volume to specify in which operas the special features which he contributed to the development of the form are to be found. It will perhaps be more instructive to the reader to enumerate these features and explain them. Scarlatti made a systematic distinction of the characteristics of three kinds of vocal music in opera. Two of these were recitative, which had hitherto been treated in one way, the accompaniment being confined to a small group of instruments, or one instrument alone, playing chords. In one of Scarlatti's operas appeared recitative accompanied by the whole orchestra, and he made a clear distinction in the character and purpose of two kinds of recitative. The first of these was the recitativo secco, which means "dry recitative." This is the pure dialogue form of recitative, used to carry on the ordinary passing conversation of the scene. It was accompanied in the early works by the harpsichord generally, and it is the custom to this day in artistic opera houses to play the chords to the recitativo secco in "Don Giovanni" on the piano. In England it became the custom to play these chords in broken form on the double bass and violoncello, but this custom has not prevailed elsewhere. Recitativo secco is not used so much now as it was in the earlier days of opera, but short passages of it are found in many modern works, even those of Wagner, while in oratorio it is not at all infrequent. Here is an example of it from Mozart's "Don Giovanni":—

[Mozart's "Don Giovanni"]

Alessandro Scarlatti was the first to make systematic use of that richer form of recitation known as recitativo stromentato. Indeed, some historians declare, and with fairly good ground, that he invented this species. Recitativo stromentato is recitative with an especially designed orchestral accompaniment instead of the simple chords of the secco style. Usually the most significant orchestral passages are placed in the pauses between the phrases uttered by the voice. The whole recitative thus becomes more passionate, more varied, and more filled with meaning. The extreme development of recitativo stromentato is to be found in Wagner's later dramas, in which entire scenes are made of it. Excellent examples of it in its customary modern form, however, are to be found in his earlier works. Here is one from the first act of "Lohengrin":—

[Wagner's "Lohengrin".]

It will readily be perceived that these improvements in diversification of the recitative gave the Italian opera a livelier musical character, and made it appeal more directly to the popular taste. But significant as Scarlatti's labor in this department was, its influence did not equal that of his development of the aria da capo. We have already seen that Cavalli made a step in the direction of this form by repeating the first part of a tune to make its close. It was Alessandro Scarlatti, however, who completely established the position of the aria in opera and defined its form. He himself was a noted singer and a teacher of singing, and he saw in the aria abundant opportunity for the display of pure vocal ability. His success in making music that enabled singers to reveal the beauties of their voices decided the direction in which Italian opera was to move until almost the present day, and led to the birth of a numerous body of composers upon whom I am fond of placing the title "Neapolitan school." The theory of the aria da capo is a purely musical one, and its inventors did not perceive that it was distinctly opposed to dramatic fidelity. The conception of a melody in three sections, of which the first and third are the same and the middle one strongly contrasting, belongs to the realm of absolute music. When the composer asks a soprano to be mildly pathetic in the beginning of an air, work herself into a passion in the middle, and suddenly become mildly pathetic again at the close, simply in order that she may repeat the opening measures, he violates emotional truthfulness and is guilty of false art. The Italian opera writers seem to have arrived at a realization of this fact very soon, and finding that their symmetrical tunes pleased the public, they threw overboard all pretence of dramatic sincerity and wrote the tunes for their own sake, no matter whether they fitted the spirit of the text or not. Francesco Rossi, Antonio Caldara, Antonio Lotti, and Giovanni Maria Buononcini were among Alessandro Scarlatti's immediate successors, and all of them devoted themselves to producing operas which consisted of strings of arias, duets, etc., united by brief passages of recitative.

One important result of this practice was that the voices and abilities of the principal singers had to be considered in order that the arias might be effective. The singers were thus enabled to make such great personal impressions upon the public that they soon became the reigning power in opera, and actually made laws for the composers. This was the period of the famous male soprano singers Farinelli, Cafarelli, Senesino, Gizziello, and others, whose marvellous singing was due to long processes of training, and who were the adored and inexorable monarchs of the musical world. The state of Italian opera in the time of Handel (1685-1759) is more easily described than imagined. I have already told how the famous composer of "The Messiah" began his career as an opera composer. He wrote some forty operas, all of which have now only an historical interest. Arias and duets from them are frequently heard in concert, and are excellent examples of the manner in which composers treated text in those days. To two lines of text one frequently finds half a dozen pages of music, the words apparently being employed simply to give the singer syllables to pronounce. It must be said for Handel that he was too great a composer to turn out mere rubbish. While he displayed remarkable dexterity in writing passages of pure vocal exhibition work for the singers, he contrived to put a considerable quantity of very good music into his operas. Nevertheless he was under the control of the singer and the formulæ of the time.

The laws of Italian opera in that day prescribed six persons—three men and three women—as the proper number of singers. The men were always sopranos or tenors. The use of the baritone voice was quite unknown; sometimes a bass part was written for one of the men, but as there are only a few fine bass parts in any of the old operas, and no records of the fame of any great basses except Boschi, we must conclude that only the male soprano and tenor had any wide vogue. In Handel's "Teseo" there was neither bass nor tenor; all the parts were sopranos and contraltos. Of course there were male characters, so it is easy to conceive how far away from anything like dramatic truth the whole thing must have been. The common use of the baritone voice, the voice of the average man, did not begin till the latter part of the last century. The French composers, who, as we shall see, clung more faithfully to dramatic fidelity than the Italians, were the first to use it extensively. Gluck made frequent use of it, but it remained for Mozart to discover the full scope of its usefulness.

The rules made by the singers and in force in Handel's time did not stop at the distribution of the voices. They prescribed also the kinds and number of arias, duets, etc. There were five kinds of aria: aria cantabile, aria di portamento, aria di mezzo carattere, aria parlante, and aria di bravura. Aria cantabile was slow and flowing and usually pathetic in style. Aria di portamento was also slow, but with stronger rhythm and wider intervals. Aria parlante was declamatory. Aria di mezzo carattere was an air of medium character, containing a fusion of styles. Aria di bravura was one in which every possible opportunity was given the singer for a display of agility in the way of runs, trills, jumps, et cætera. The rules also commanded that every scene in an opera should end with an aria, and that in each act every principal singer should have one aria. No singer could have two arias in succession, nor in any circumstances might two arias of the same kind stand together. The hero and heroine had each to have one aria di bravura and one duet. The opera ended with a dance and chorus. At one time no trios, quartets, or concerted pieces were allowed.

A natural result of such rules was that opera librettos were very poor stuff generally, and had little dramatic sense or force. Composers often took a lot of good airs and duets from operas which had failed, and strung them together with new text to make a new opera. It was an experiment of this kind which led Gluck, as we shall see, to doubt the possibility of producing anything artistic according to the extant methods of Italian opera. As Gluck's movement of reform was undertaken in Paris, and as his works lie rather in the line of development of French opera than of Italian, I shall recount the story of his battle in the narrative of the growth of the French school. It is sufficient for the present to say that his labors had no very serious influence on Italian composers. They continued to write tune for tune's sake, and their modifications in style and form would have come about without the intervention of Gluck.

Immediately after Handel the Neapolitan school of composers was conspicuous through its development of opera buffa, comic grand opera. The principal writers were Logroscino, Leo, Hasse, and Pergolesi. The last was popular both as a serious and a comic writer somewhat later than 1770. Later still came forward Sacchini, Galuppi, Paisiello and Piccini. The last named, a contemporary of Gluck and Mozart, and Gluck's opponent in Paris, was a most melodious writer. He deserves special mention for his development of the operatic finale. His finales were long concerted pieces in which the various voices were united in rich harmonies so as to produce a strong effect.

Chapter XX

Italian Opera to Verdi

Cimarosa, Rossini, Donizetti, and Bellini—The last writers of the Neapolitan school—Tune for tune's sake—Rossini's improvements in methods of opera writing—Verdi and his three styles—"Aïda," and "Otello," "Falstaff," and the new school of Italian opera.

DOMENICO CIMAROSA (Naples, Dec. 17, 1749—Venice, Jan. 11, 1801) wrote seventy-six operas, none of which are heard today outside of Italy, where recently there has been a movement to revive some of the operas of the end of the last century. Cimarosa's masterpiece is "Il Matrimonia Segreto," a genuinely fine work in the department of Italian opera buffa. The music is distinguished for its flow of genuine and spirited humor and its constant melody. The ensembles are excellently made and have served as models to later masters.

The most celebrated, original, and influential of Italian masters of the present century before Verdi was Gioachino Antonio Rossini, born at Pesaro, Feb. 29, 1792. His principal works are: "Tancred" (1813), "Otello" (1816), "Il Barbiere di Siviglia" (1816), "Semiramide" (1823), and "Gillaume Tell" (1829). The last named opera was written for Paris and it was not warmly received. Rossini appears to have taken its failure greatly to heart, and finding himself independent he wrote no more for the stage. He died in Paris, Nov. 13, 1868. "William Tell" is usually classed by historians among French operas, because it was written for the French stage and was a deliberate attempt to follow the French style. But it was its pure Italianism that prevented it from winning immediate success in Paris. Nevertheless it is Rossini's masterpiece.

Rossini was not a man of musical genius, nor was he one of profound musical learning. As soon as he had enough musical science to write a score, he dropped study once and for all and embarked upon his career as a composer. He had a keen perception of the nature of those musical means which could be employed to produce a stage effect, and wrote always with these in his mind. There is no depth, no sincerity, in the music of Rossini. It is always theatrical and full of imposition. Perhaps the most heartless music ever written for an opera by a man of real talent is that of "Semiramide." Hardly an air in it will stand the test of comparison with its own text, and the manner in which a plotting priest, supposed to be a dark and mysterious villain, goes about expressing his desperate soul through trills and scales is almost ridiculous. Yet "Semiramide" is full of melody, and it contains musical effects which were new and striking at the time of its production. The employment of four horns together with clarinets in the finale, for instance, was an innovation.

Rossini must be credited with several improvements, although he wrote for the singer, and his "Semiramide" is a survival of the style of opera produced in Handel's day. In his "Otello" he abandoned the old recitativo secco and produced an opera with recitativo stromentato throughout. He enriched the instrumentation greatly, largely through his employment of the horns. He was a fine horn-player himself. He introduced the use of long crescendi and also introduced the cabaletta, a quick movement to follow a slow cantabile aria, as the "Dolce pensiero" after "Bel raggio" in "Semiramide," or the "Semper libera" after "Ah, fors e lui" in Verdi's "La Traviata." Rossini also tried to abolish the custom of permitting singers to make their own ornamental cadenzas, insisting that he could write good ones and that singers must use them. The most important of all these improvements was the abandonment of recitativo secco. While all other composers did not at once follow his lead, the superiority of operas containing only recitativo stromentato gradually became clear, and recitativo secco almost disappeared. It is written by composers of today only in very brief passages.

Rossini's "Barber of Seville" is a genuinely good example of opera buffa. It is full of melody and it sparkles with vivacity. When well performed it must always give pleasure to intelligent hearers. "William Tell" is a melodious, fluent, and in places really eloquent piece of dramatic composition. It is fine enough to make one regret that Rossini, who finished his life under the influence of French dramatic theories, did not again write for the stage. The popularity of Rossini's operas in the first three quarters of the present century was enormous. At one time it seemed as if all the bands and half the pianos in Europe were playing "Di tanti regi." His works preserved all the essential elements of the Neapolitan school founded by Alessandro Scarlatti, of whom Rossini and his immediate Italian successors were artistic descendants.

Gaetano Donizetti was born at Bergamo, Nov. 29, 1797. His first successes were achieved after Rossini had retired. His most important works are: "Elisir d'Amore" (1832), "Lucrezia Borgia" (1834), "Lucia di Lammermoor" (1835), "La Favorita" (1840), "Linda di Chamounix" (1842), and "Don Pasquale" (1842). Donizetti cannot be said to have contributed anything to the development of Italian opera except a simpler and less pretentious style than that of Rossini. Weak and watery as his grand operas appear to us now, they had a good influence at the time of their production. His opera buffa "Elisir d'Amore" is, when well performed, a very pleasing trifle. Donizetti had an excellent flow of melody, but he sacrificed dramatic truth to musical effectiveness at all times in his operas.

Vincenzo Bellini (1802-1835) wrote also in a sweet, melodious, and generally sentimental style, except in "Norma" (1832), in which one of the most dramatic librettos in the whole field of opera inspired the composer to the production of some really admirable music. Bellini's "Norma" went far toward showing how a pure Italian style and a powerful dramatic utterance might be reconciled. His "La Sonnambula" (1831) is occasionally performed, for the glory of some light soprano. Bellini might have achieved much if he had not died so young.

Saverio Mercadante (1795-1870) wrote sixty operas. His most important works are: "Elisa e Claudio" (1822), and "Il Guiramento" (1837). The latter work not only contains powerful ensembles and solos, but differs from the style of Rossini more than any other of Mercadante's works. It contains passages which are original, yet remind us of the style of Meyerbeer and of Wagner in his "Rienzi."

We come now to the greatest opera composer that Italy has produced,—a composer who ranks with the representative masters of other schools and whose career is an epitome of the history of Italian opera in his time. Giuseppe Verdi was born at Roncole, near Busseto, Oct. 9, 1813. He took his first lessons from a local organist, but in 1833 was sent to Milan to study. His first opera, "Oberto, Conte di San Bonifazio," was produced at Milan in 1839. His principal works since have been: "Ernani" (1844), "Rigoletto" (1851), "Il Trovatore" (1853), "La Traviata" (1853), "Aïda" (1871), "Otello" (1887), and "Falstaff" (1893).

Verdi's music has been divided into three styles. It will, perhaps, be somewhat difficult for the average listener to distinguish more than two, yet there are musical grounds for the statement. His earliest operas are in the old Neapolitan style as it had come to exist in Verdi's time. They consist of series of tunes, strung on threads of recitative, without any consideration of dramatic fidelity except a vague, general fitness of color. Their music is designed strictly to tickle the ear. In "Ernani" we meet with Verdi's second style, which is characterized by immense vigor, boisterous instrumentation, and contrasts of tremendous dramatic power with cheap dance music. "Rigoletto" is the best and most familiar specimen of this period. "Il Trovatore," though of later date than "Rigoletto," is rather in the style of the first period. The third period began with "Aïda," in which Verdi parted company forever with elementary rhythms and harmonies, common dance tunes, coarse instrumentation, and operatic claptrap in general. "Aïda" is a grand and inspiring masterpiece in which the Verdian stream of melody is quite as rich as in the earlier works, but is guided in artistic channels. The music is intense in its dramatic passion, and by the use of rich harmony and changeful melody Verdi creates an atmosphere full of local color. In "Aïda," however, Verdi preserved all the familiar forms of the older Italian operas. He uses even the aria da capo in its modern shape. But into everything is infused a true dramatic spirit. It is in characterization that the greatest shortcoming of the "Aïda" music is to be found. Nevertheless, "Aïda" is the best opera written by an Italian up to its date of production.

In his next opera, "Otello," written at a time when most composers would have retired to rest on their laurels, Verdi made another tremendous stride upward, and stamped himself as one of the world's genuine masters. In "Otello" he abandoned all the old forms. There are no set instrumental introductions to arias, not set arias, no cabaletti. The only lyrics are Desdemona's "Ave Maria" and "Willow" song, which are introduced as songs might be in a spoken drama. Verdi named "Otello" a lyric drama, and that is precisely what it is. The single speeches are treated as speeches, not as songs, and the dialogue is pure dialogue, not as duets or trios. Much of the score is in the modern style of arioso, a species of recitative in which the phrases are highly melodic in style without forming a complete tune, and yet preserve their dramatic truthfulness. The orchestration is immensely rich and expressive, and is quite independent of the voices. One or two leading motives of the Wagnerian kind are employed with much judgment and moderation. The libretto, a remarkably fine adaptation of the Shakespearian play, is by Arrigo Boito (born 1842), himself the composer of a very fine opera, "Mefistofele," intensely modern in style.

Verdi was accused of imitating Wagner in both "Aïda" and "Otello," chiefly because he modified and afterward abandoned the recognized forms of the Italian school. The charge cannot be sustained. Verdi has never for an instant sacrificed his individuality, and his music is as purely and intensely Italian as Wagner's is German. The same charge was made against Gounod when he wrote "Romeo et Juliette," a thoroughly French work. Verdi in these operas was simply following the dictates of his mature genius, which was leading him toward one of the most significant developments of our time. He was struggling to adapt to the fundamental theories of opera, as expounded by its founders, Rinuccini and Peri, the vast and complicated materials of modern musical expression. In "Aïda" he endeavored to reconcile the formulæ of the Neapolitan school with the esthetic principles of the Greek drama and approached as closely to complete success as the opposing nature of the two chief elements would permit. In "Otello" he confessed the unsuitability of the Neapolitan forms to the full and detailed union of text and music. He preserved the Italian beauty of the vocal part of opera, constructed it with a consistent, determined, and generally successful attempt at organic union with the text, and so produced an opera which will, I believe, live. That he was wholly uninfluenced by Wagner's style, though he was attentive to Wagner's proclamations of the true theory of dramatic composition, is demonstrated by "Otello," and still more conclusively by his last work, "Falstaff," which is as far away from Wagner's style as is Mozart's "Nozze di Figaro," and yet which is built on precisely the same dramatic principles as Wagner's "Die Meistersinger."

In "Falstaff" we hear the voice of Mozart. If Mozart had lived in the latter part of this century he might have written this noble work. In "Falstaff" Verdi has, as in "Otello," declined to use any of the Neapolitan paraphernalia. There is not a single number that approaches the old aria form except two small lyrics in the last scene. There are quartets, but they are in disguise. They are dialogues for four persons, written with profound musical learning, and with the unaffected freedom of the most playful fancy. But the great bulk of the dialogue is in the true Verdian arioso style, that glowing recitation which is the chief means of expression in this master's last works. There are no Wagnerian leading motives in the orchestration, but the orchestra independently accompanies and explicates the drama in a series of picturesque phrases whose beauties and significance will not be exhausted in many hearings. But what will most delight and amaze every hearer of this music is its youthful vigor. It is as fresh and spontaneous as the work of a young man in the blush of his first love, yet it is full of the wisdom and experience of him who is the epitome of more than half a century of Italian opera. It bustles, it glows, it inspires, yet it never transcends the modesty of art. Rich, complex, brilliant, and eloquent as the orchestration is, it never strains for effects and it is never blatant. Subtle, varied, polished as the recitation is, it has not a measure that cannot be sung, and neither the voice of the singer nor the ear of the hearer is ever outraged. In short, "Falstaff" is the work of a man whose genius is inexhaustible, whose natural fire burned in his eightieth year with all the glow of that dawn when "Ernani" was the morning star.

The latest development of Italian opera is the short work as seen in the "Cavalleria Rusticana" and "Pagliacci,—" probably a passing fashion. It shows no evidences of permanency, for its composers have produced no new style. They have employed the whole material of Verdi's later operas, and the only new feature is the condensation, which does not always give good musical results, because the emotions shift too constantly to permit a complete and influential musical embodiment of any one state. These young composers have tried to advance beyond Verdi in complexity of rhythm and boldness of modulation. Some of their modulations are made obviously for the sake of oddity. The aria da capo has disappeared entirely from the modern Italian opera. But the greatest achievement of the latest writers, chiefly Verdi, is the development, to what seems to be the highest possible point, of the beautiful arioso style of Italy,—the style which combines most of the power of German declamation with all the elegance and singable quality of the Neapolitan manner.

Arrigo Boito, born at Padua, Feb. 24, 1842, and still living, produced one remarkable opera, "Mefistofele," first performed on March 5, 1868, at La Scala Theatre, Milan. The work, in its original form, was so subtle, so philosophical, so undramatic, so thoroughly in sympathy with the spirit of Goethe's "Faust," and withal such a radical departure from everything recognized as opera by the Italians, that it caused the most heated controversy. In 1875 a revised version, that now known to the public, was put forward, and this has pleased the majority of opera-goers. The work is episodic and disjointed, but its characterization is most graphic, and the dramatic force of some of its scenes, notably that in the prison, is enormous. "Mefistofele" shares with "Aïda" the honor of having restored dramatic truth to the Italian lyric stage, but it lacks the skill in theatrical construction shown in Verdi's work. Boito has contented himself in later years with writing Verdi's libretti, but Verdi himself is authority for the statement that Boito has written an opera called "Nerone," which is a masterpiece.

The opera music of the Italian school, in its entirety, is marked by greater floridity than that of other schools. The superficial, sensuous charms of the human voice have always appealed powerfully to the Italian race, and its composers have catered to this taste. An honorable ambition for a fame wider than the limits of their own country has led Italian composers to select from other schools their most immediately popular elements. The present Italian opera is eclectic. Its excellence lies largely in the fact that it does not run to extremes in any direction.

Chapter XXI

Beginnings of French Opera

Beaujoyeux and his "Ballet Comique de la Royne"—Production of Cambert's "Pomone" and founding of the Grand Opera—Advent of Lulli—His acquisition of the opera patent—Character and influence of his operas—Rameau and his improvements on Lulli's style.

THE history of French opera begins with the performance of a curious little pastoral in which the germs of some parts of the lyric drama may be found. The age of the work leads French writers to claim precedence over Italy in the invention of opera, but such claims are easily overthrown by the accumulation of evidence that the advent of Peri's "Daphne" was the result of a systematic series of experiments looking toward the revival of the Greek drama. In 1577 an Italian violinist named Baltazarini was imported from Piedmont into France by Marshal de Brissac. Catherine de Médicis made him her intendant of music and valet de chambre to the king. He changed his name to Balthasar de Beaujoyeux, and is so known in musical history, which, however, is generally silent about him. He introduced the Italian ballet to Paris, and also produced the first pastoral opera there. This pastoral is entitled "Circe," but is better known as the "Ballet Comique de la Royne." It was produced as the festival play for the marriage of the Duke de Joyeuse and Mlle. de Vaudemont. It is purely pastoral in character and has little or nothing of the true dramatic character of opera, though it has some of the operatic forms. There are choruses in four parts, dances, and accompanied solos. The last are written in a slow and melodious form of recitative, which is pleasing, but not especially expressive. Doubtless Beaujoyeux, who left Italy about the time when the experiments in monodic writing were beginning, must have known something of the nature of the movement. This he communicated to Beaulieu and Salmon, who wrote most, if not all, of the music of the ballet which he arranged.

These French ballets, of which "Circe" was apparently the first performed at court, owe probably quite as much of their origin to the old pastoral plays of the country as they do to the Italian monody. As far back as the thirteenth century the troubadours had constructed little pastorals, with solo vocal music, and at least one of these, Adam de la Halle's "Gieus de Robin et de Marion," contained well-formed songs. These little works, performed in Picardy and Provence, declined with the troubadours, but some record of them may have helped the court composers of the latter end of the 16th century in the formation of their recitative. The French ballet differed from the earliest Italian opera in that most of its music was designed as an accompaniment to action, largely pantomimic and wholly terpsichorean in its nature. The solo parts were short and built on lines wholly dissociated from those of the Florentine recitative.

Listen:

FROM THE "BALLET COMIQUE DE LA ROYNE,"
BY BEAUJOYEUX.