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:—
KING SOLOMON Herr ROBINSON.
HIGH-PRIEST Herr FISCHER.
SULAMITH Fraülein LEHMANN.
ASSAD Herr STRITT.
BAAL HANAN Herr ALEXI.
QUEEN OF SHEBA Frau KRAMER-WEIDL.
ASTAROTH Fraülein BRANDT.
The libretto by Mosenthal is one of rare excellence in its skilful treatment of situations and arrangement of scenes with the view to spectacular and dramatic effect. The Biblical story has but little to do with the action of the opera beyond the mere fact of the famous visit of the Queen of Sheba to Solomon. The stirring episodes during the journey and the visit spring from the librettist's imagination. The story in substance is as follows:—
King Solomon, learning of the Queen's intention to visit him, sends his favorite courtier Assad to escort her. While she waits outside the gates of Jerusalem, Assad announces her arrival to the King and Sulamith, the daughter of the high-priest, to whom the courtier is affianced. Observing his disturbed looks, the King, after dismissing his attendants, inquires the cause. Assad replies that on their journey through the forest he had encountered a nymph bathing whose beauty had so impressed him as to banish even the thoughts of his affianced. The wise Solomon counsels him to marry Sulamith at once. Meanwhile the Queen comes into the King's presence, and as she lifts her veil reveals the unknown fair one. She affects ignorance of Assad's passion; but when she learns that he is to wed Sulamith love for him springs up in her own breast. Upon the day of the wedding ceremony Assad, carried away by his longing for the Queen, declares her to be his divinity, and is condemned to death for profaning the Temple. Both the Queen and Sulamith appeal to the King for mercy. He consents at last to save his life, but banishes him to the desert. The Queen seeks him there, and makes an avowal of her love; but Assad repulses her. As Sulamith comes upon the scene a simoom sweeps across the desert. They perish in each other's arms; while in a mirage the Queen and her attendants are seen journeying to their home.
The first act opens in the great hall of Solomon's palace with a brilliant, joyous chorus ("Open the Halls, adorn the Portals") in praise of the King's glory. After the entrance of the high-priest, Sulamith sings a fascinating bridal song ("My own Assad returns"), richly oriental both in music and sentiment, dreamy and luxurious in its tone, and yet full of joyous expectation, with characteristic choral refrain and dainty accompaniment. The fourth and fifth scenes are full of agitation and unrest, and lead up to Assad's explanation of his perturbed condition ("At Lebanon's Foot I met Arabia's Queen"), a monologue aria of rich glowing color and reaching a fine dramatic climax as it progresses from its sensuous opening to the passionate intensity of its finale. It is followed by the entrance of the Queen, accompanied by a brilliant march and a jubilant chorus ("To the Sun of the South our Welcome we bring") and a stirring concerted number, describing the recognition of the Queen by Assad; after which the chorus resumes its jubilant strain, bringing the act to a close.
The second act opens in the gardens of the palace and discloses the Queen, who gives expression to her love for Assad and her hatred of Sulamith in an impassioned aria ("Let me from the festal Splendor"). In the second scene Astaroth, her slave, appears and lures Assad by a weird strain, which is one of the most effective passages in the opera ("As the Heron calls in the Reeds"). After a short arioso by Assad ("Magical Sounds, intoxicating Fragrance"), a passionate duet with the Queen follows, interrupted by the call of the Temple-guard to prayer. The scene changes to the interior of the sanctuary with its religious service; and with it the music changes also to solemn Hebrew melodies with the accompaniment of the sacred instruments, leading up to the stirring finale in which Assad declares his passion for the Queen, amid choruses of execration by the people.
The third act opens in the banquet-hall upon a scene of festivity introduced by the graceful bee dance of the Almas. It is followed by the powerful appeal of the Queen for Assad's life, rising to an intensely dramatic pitch as she warns the King of the revenge of her armed hosts ("When Sheba's iron Lances splinter and Zion's Throne in Ruins falls"). In sad contrast comes the mournful chant which accompanies Sulamith as she passes to the vestal's home ("The Hour that robbed me of him"), and ends in her despairing cry rising above the chorus of attendants as Solomon also refuses her petition.
The last act passes in the desert. Assad beneath a solitary palm-tree laments the destiny which pursues him ("Whither shall I wend my weary Steps?"). In the next scene the Queen appears, and an agitated duet follows, ending with her repulse. Assad in despair calls upon death to relieve him. The sky darkens. Clouds of sand envelop the fugitive. The palm bends before the blast as the simoom sweeps by. The storm at last subsides. The sky grows brighter; and the Queen and her attendants, with their elephants and camels, appear in a mirage journeying eastward as Sulamith and her lover expire in each other's arms. As their duet dies away, the chorus of maidens brings the act to a close with a few strains from the love-song in the first act.
MERLIN.
The opera of "Merlin" was first performed at Vienna, Nov. 17, 1886, and was heard for the first time in this country at New York, Jan. 3, 1887, under the direction of Mr. Walter Damrosch, with the following cast:—
KING ARTHUR Herr ROBINSON.
MODRED Herr KEMLITZ.
LANCELOT Herr BURSCH.
GAWEIN Herr HEINRICH.
GLENDOWER Herr VON MILDE.
MERLIN Herr ALVARY.
VIVIANE Fraülein LEHMANN.
BEDWYR Herr SIEGLITZ.
THE FAY MORGANA Fraülein BRANDT.
THE DEMON Herr FISCHER.
The libretto of the opera is by Siegfried Lipiner. The scene is laid in Wales, and the hero, Merlin, is familiar as one of the knights of King Arthur's round-table. The story is as follows:—
The Devil, ambitious to banish all good from the world, unites himself to a virgin in order that he may beget a child who shall aid him in his fell purpose. The child is Merlin, who partakes of the mother's goodness, and instead of aiding his father, seeks to thwart his design. The Devil thereupon consults the Fay Morgana, who tells him that Merlin will lose his power if he falls in love. In the opening scene King Arthur sends Lancelot to Merlin for aid, who promises him victory and achieves it by the assistance of his familiar, a demon, who is in league with the Devil. Tired of his service to Merlin, the demon contrives to have him meet the beautiful Viviane, with whom he falls in love. The second act transpires in Merlin's enchanted garden, and reveals his growing passion, and at the same time his waning power of magic; for when once more Arthur summons his aid he attempts to tear himself away from her only to realize his weakness. She seeks to detain him by throwing a magic veil over him which has been given her by the demon; in an instant the scene changes, and Merlin appears confined to a rock by fiery chains, while the demon mocks him from a neighboring eminence, and Viviane gives way to anguish. In the last act Viviane is told by the Fay Morgana that Merlin's release can only be secured by woman's self-sacrifice. Once more an appeal for help comes to him from Arthur, and he promises his soul to the demon in exchange for his freedom. His chains fall off. He rushes into the battle and secures the victory, but is fatally wounded. The demon claims him; but Viviane, remembering the words of the Fay Morgana, stabs herself and thus balks him of his expectant prey.
Like Wagner's operas, "Merlin" has its motives, the principal ones being that of the demon, or the evil principle, and two love motives. In its general treatment it is also Wagnerish. The first scene opens with the spirited message of Lancelot to Glendower, beseeching Merlin's aid for the hard-pressed Arthur. It is followed by the strains of Merlin's harp in the castle and his assurance of victory, and these in turn by very descriptive incantation music summoning the demon and the supernatural agencies which will compass the defeat of Arthur's enemies. Then comes the interview between the demon and the Fay Morgana, in which he learns the secret of Merlin's weakness. In the next scene Arthur returns from his victory over the Saxons to the tempo of a stirring march, and accompanied by the joyous choruses of women. A vigorous episode, in which Bedwyr, one of Arthur's knights, is charged with treachery, is followed by Merlin's chant of victory with chorus accompaniment. As its strains die away a distant horn announces Viviane, who makes her appearance singing a breezy hunting song with her maidens, leading up to a spirited septet. Then follows the baffled attempt of Viviane to crown Merlin, the scene closing with a repetition of the chant of victory and the choruses of jubilation.
The second act opens in the enchanted gardens of Merlin; and the first scene reveals a conspiracy to seize the crown during Arthur's absence and proclaim Modred king, and the farewell of Arthur and his suite to Merlin. The magic-veil scene follows with its fascinating dance tempos, and leads with its graceful measures up to the passionate love-scene between Merlin and Viviane, which is harshly broken in upon by the clash of arms between Modred and his perfidious companions and the faithful friends of Arthur. A dramatic scene of great energy follows, in which Viviane at last throws the magic veil around Merlin with the transforming results already told.
The last act opens with Viviane's mournful lament for the wretched fate which she has brought down upon her lover, and the announcement of the means by which he may be released made to her in slumber by the Fay Morgana. Her maidens seek to rouse her with choral appeals, in which are heard phrases of her hunting song. Meanwhile mocking spirits appear about Merlin and taunt him in characteristic music. Then follows the compact with the demon, which releases him. He rushes into the battle accompanied by an exultant song from Viviane; but soon the funeral march, as his followers bear him from the field, tells the mournful story of his fate. A very dramatic ensemble contains the deed of self-sacrifice, by which Viviane ends her life to redeem Merlin from the demon, and with this powerful effect the opera closes.
GOUNOD.
Charles François Gounod was born, in Paris, June 17, 1818. He studied music in the Conservatory, under the direction of Halevy, Lesueur, and Paer, and in 1839 obtained the first prize, and, under the usual regulations, went to Italy. While at Rome he devoted himself largely to religious music. On his return to Paris he became organist of the Missions Étrangères, and for a time seriously thought of taking orders. In 1851, however, he brought out his first opera, "Sappho," which met with success. At this point his active career began. In 1852 he became conductor of the Orphéon, and wrote the choruses for Ponsard's tragedy of "Ulysse." The year 1854 brought a five-act opera, "La Nonne Sanglante," founded on a legend in Lewis's "Monk." In 1858 he made his first essay in opera comique, and produced "Le Médecin malgré lui," which met with remarkable success. The next year "Faust" was performed, and placed him in the front rank of living composers. "Philémon et Baucis" appeared in 1860, and "La Reine de Saba," which was afterwards performed in English as "Irene," in 1862. In 1863 he brought out the pretty pastoral opera "Mireille." This was succeeded in 1866 by "La Colombe," known in English as "The Pet Dove," and in 1867 by "Roméo et Juliette." In 1877 he produced "Cinq Mars," and in 1878 his last opera, "Polyeucte." He has also written much church music, the more important works being the "Messe Solenelle," a "Stabat Mater," the oratorio "Tobie," a "De Profundis," an "Ave Verum," and many single hymns and songs, among which "Nazareth" is universally popular. His list of compositions for orchestra is also very large, and includes such popular pieces as the "Saltarello," "Funeral March of a Marionette," and the Meditation, based on Bach's First Prelude, which is accompanied by a soprano solo. He was elected a member of the Institut de France in 1866.
FAUST.
"Faust," a grand opera in five acts, words by Barbier and Carré, founded upon Goethe's tragedy, was first produced at the Théâtre Lyrique, Paris, March 19, 1859, with the following cast of the principal parts:—
MARGUERITE Mme. MIOLAN-CARVALHO.
SIEBEL Mlle. FAIVRE.
FAUST M. BARBOT.
VALENTIN M. REGNAL.
MEPHISTOPHELES M. BALANQUÉ.
MARTHA Mme. DUCLOS.
The opera was first produced in London as "Faust," June 11, 1863; in
English, Jan. 23, 1864; and in Germany as "Margarethe."
The story of the opera follows Goethe's tragedy very closely, and is confined to the first part. It may be briefly told. Faust, an aged German student, satiated with human knowledge and despairing of his ability to unravel the secrets of nature, summons the evil spirit Mephistopheles to his assistance, and contracts to give him his soul in exchange for a restoration to youth. Mephistopheles effects the transformation, and reveals to him the vision of Marguerite, a beautiful village maiden, with whom Faust at once falls in love. They set out upon their travels and encounter her at the Kermesse. She has been left by her brother Valentin, a soldier, in care of Dame Martha, who proves herself a careless guardian. Their first meeting is a casual one; but subsequently he finds her in her garden, and with the help of the subtle Mephistopheles succeeds in engaging the young girl's affection. Her simple lover, Siebel, is discarded, and his nosegay is thrown away at sight of the jewels with which Faust tempts her. When Valentin returns from the wars he learns of her temptation and subsequent ruin. He challenges the seducer, and in the encounter is slain by the intervention of Mephistopheles. Overcome by the horror of her situation, Marguerite becomes insane, and in her frenzy kills her child. She is thrown into prison, where Faust and Mephistopheles find her. Faust urges her to fly with them, but she refuses, and places her reliance for salvation upon earnest prayer, and sorrow for the wrong she has done. Pleading for forgiveness, she expires; and as Mephistopheles exults at the catastrophe he has wrought, angels appear amid the music of the celestial choirs and bear the sufferer to heaven.
The first act is in the nature of a prelude, and opens with a long soliloquy ("Interrogo invano") by Faust, in which he laments the unsatisfactoriness of life. It is interwoven with delightful snatches of chorus heard behind the scenes, a duet with Mephistopheles ("Ma il ciel"), and the delicate music accompanying the vision of Marguerite.
The second act is contained in a single setting, the Kermesse, in which the chorus plays an important part. In the first scene the choruses of students, soldiers, old men, girls, and matrons are quaintly contrasted, and are full of animation and characteristic color. In the second, Valentin sings a tender song ("O santa medaglia") to a medallion of his sister which he wears as a charm. It is followed by a grim and weird drinking-song ("Dio dell' or"), sung by Mephistopheles. The latter then strikes fire from the fountain into his cup, and proposes the health of Marguerite. Valentin springs forward to resent the insult, only to find his sword broken in his hands. The students and soldiers recognize the spirit of evil, and overcome him by presenting the hilts of their swords in the form of a cross, the scene being accompanied by one of the most effective choruses in the work ("Tu puvi la spada"). The tempter gone, the scene resumes its gayety, and the act closes with one of the most animated and delightful of waltz tempos ("Come la brezza").
The third act is the Garden scene, full of fascinating detail, and breathes the very spirit of poetry and music combined in a picture of love which has never been excelled in tenderness and beauty on the operatic stage. Its principal numbers are a short and simple but very beautiful ballad for Siebel ("La parlate d'amor"); a passionate aria for tenor ("Salve dimora casta e pura"), in which Faust greets Marguerite's dwelling; a double number, which is superb in its contrasts,—the folk-song, "C'era un re di Thule," a plaintive little ballad sung at the spinning-wheel by Marguerite, and the bravura jewel-song, "Ah! e' strano poter," which is the very essence of delicacy and almost-childish glee; the quartet commencing, "V'appogiato al bracchio mio," which is of striking interest by the independent manner in which the two pairs of voices are treated and combined in the close; and the closing duet ("Sempre amar") between Faust and Marguerite, which is replete with tenderness and passion, and closes in strains of almost ecstatic rapture, the fatal end of which is foreshadowed by the mocking laugh of Mephistopheles breaking in upon its lingering cadences.
The fourth act is known as the Cathedral act, and established Gounod's reputation as a writer of serious music. It opens with a scena for Marguerite, who has been taunted by the girls at the fountain ("Nascose eran là le crudeli "), in which she laments her sad fate. The scene abruptly changes to the square in front of the cathedral, where the soldiers, Valentin among them, are returning, to the jubilant though somewhat commonplace strains of the march, "Deponiam il branda." As the soldiers retire and Valentin goes in quest of Marguerite, Faust and Mephistopheles appear before the house, and the latter sings a grotesque and literally infernal serenade ("Tu, che fai l' addormentata"). Valentin appears and a quarrel ensues, leading up to a spirited trio. Valentin is slain, and with his dying breath pronounces a malediction ("Margherita! maledetta") upon his sister. The scene changes to the church, and in wonderful combination we hear the appeals of Marguerite for mercy, the taunting voice of the tempter, and the monkish chanting of the "Dies Irae" mingled with the solemn strains of the organ.
The last act is usually presented in a single scene, the Prison, but it contains five changes. After a weird prelude, the Walpurgis revel begins, in which short, strange phrases are heard from unseen singers. The night scene changes to a hall of pagan enchantment, and again to the Brocken, where the apparition of Marguerite is seen. The orgy is resumed, when suddenly by another transformation we are taken to the prison where Marguerite is awaiting death. It is unnecessary to give its details. The scene takes the form of a terzetto, which is worked up with constantly increasing power to a climax of passionate energy, and at last dies away as Marguerite expires. It stands almost alone among effects of this kind in opera. The curtain falls upon a celestial chorus of apotheosis, the vision of the angels, and Mephistopheles cowering in terror before the heavenly messengers.
ROMEO AND JULIET.
"Roméo et Juliette," a grand opera in five acts, words by Barbier and Carré, the subject taken from Shakspeare's tragedy of the same name, was first produced at the Théâtre Lyrique, Paris, April 27, 1867, with Mme. Miolan-Carvalho in the rôle of Juliet. The story as told by the French dramatists in the main follows Shakspeare's tragedy very closely in its construction as well as in its dialogue. It is only necessary, therefore, to sketch its outlines. The first act opens with the festival at the house of Capulet. Juliet and Romeo meet there and fall in love, notwithstanding her betrothal to Paris. The hot-blooded Tybalt seeks to provoke a quarrel with Romeo, but is restrained by Capulet himself, and the act comes to a close with a resumption of the merry festivities. In the second act we have the balcony scene, quite literally taken from Shakspeare, with an episode, however, in the form of a temporary interruption by Gregory and retainers, whose appearance is rather absurd than otherwise. The third act is constructed in two scenes. The first is in the friar's cell, where the secret marriage of the lovers takes place. In the second, we are introduced to a new character, invented by the librettist,—Stephano, Romeo's page, whose pranks while in search of his master provoke a general quarrel, in which Mercutio is slain by Tybalt, who in turn is killed by Romeo. When Capulet arrives upon the scene he condemns Romeo to banishment, who vows, however, that he will see Juliet again at all hazards. The fourth act is also made up of two scenes. The first is in Juliet's chamber, and is devoted to a duet between the two lovers. Romeo departs at dawn, and Capulet appears with Friar Laurence and announces his determination that the marriage with Paris shall be celebrated at once. Juliet implores the Friar's help, and he gives her the potion. The next scene is devoted to the wedding festivity, in the midst of which Juliet falls insensible from the effects of the sleeping-draught. The last act transpires in the tomb of the Capulets, where Romeo arrives, and believing his mistress dead takes poison. Juliet, reviving from the effects of the potion, and finding him dying, stabs herself with a dagger, and expires in his arms.
While many numbers are greatly admired, the opera as a whole has never been successful. Had not "Faust," which it often recalls, preceded it, its fate might have been different. Still, it contains many strong passages and much beautiful writing. The favorite numbers are the waltz arietta, very much in the manner of the well-known "Il Bacio," at the Capulet festival, the Queen Mab song, by Mercutio ("Mab, regina di menzogne"), and the duet between Romeo and Juliet ("Di grazia, t' arresta ancor!"), in the first act; the love music in the balcony scene of the second act, which inevitably recalls the garden music in "Faust;" an impressive solo for Friar Laurence ("Al vostro amor cocente"), followed by a vigorous trio and quartet, the music of which is massive and ecclesiastical in character, and the page's song ("Ah! col nibbio micidale"), in the third act; the duet of parting between Romeo and Juliet, "Tu dei partir ohime!" the quartet, "Non temero mio ben," between Juliet, the nurse, Friar Laurence, and Capulet, and the dramatic solo for the Friar, "Bevi allor questo filtro," as he gives the potion to Juliet, in the fourth act; and the elaborate orchestral prelude to the tomb scene in the last act.
MIREILLE.
"Mireille," a pastoral opera in three acts, words by M. Carré, the subject taken from "Mireio," a Provençal poem by Mistral, was first produced at the Théâtre Lyrique, Paris, March 19, 1864, with the following cast:—
MIREILLE Mme. MIOLAN-CARVALHO
TAVENA | Mme. FAURE-LEFEBVRE.
ANDRELUNO |
VINCENZINA Mlle. LEROUX.
VINCENZO M. ISMIEL.
URIAS M. PETIT.
RAIMONDO M. MORINI.
In December, 1864, the opera was reduced to three acts, in which form it is still given. In this abridged shape, and with the addition of the waltz now placed in the finale, it was brought out in London with Titiens, Giuglini, Santley, and Trebelli in the cast. In English it is always given under the title of "Mirella." The first scene opens in a mulberry grove, where Mireille is rallied by the village girls upon her attachment to Vincenzo, the basket-maker, and is also warned by Tavena, the fortune-teller, against yielding to her love, as she foresees that her father, Raimondo, will never consent to the union. In the next scene she meets Vincenzo, and the warning of Tavena is soon forgotten. The lovers renew their pledges, and agree to meet at the Chapel of the Virgin if their plans are thwarted. The second act introduces us to a merrymaking at Arles, where Mireille is informed by Tavena that Vincenzo has a rival in Urias, a wild herdsman, who has openly declared his love for her, and asked her hand of her father. Mireille repulses him when he brings the father's consent. Ambrogio, Vincenzo's father, accompanied by his daughter, Vincenzina, also waits upon Raimondo and intercedes in his son's behalf, but is sternly refused. Mireille, who has overheard the interview, declares to her father her irrevocable attachment for Vincenzo. Her declaration throws him into such a rage that he is about to strike her, but she disarms his anger by appealing to the memory of her mother.
The last act opens on a barren, sunburnt plain. Andreluno appears, singing a pastoral song to the accompaniment of his bagpipe, followed by Mireille, who is toiling across the hot sands to meet her lover at the Chapel of the Virgin. She is met by Tavena, who assures her that Vincenzo will keep his appointment, and then returns to Arles to plead with the father in Mireille's behalf. The poor girl toils on through the heat, and at last arrives nearly prostrated by sunstroke. Vincenzo soon appears, and is shortly followed by Raimondo, who, seeing the sad condition of his daughter, is moved to pity and gives his consent to the union of the lovers. The sudden joyful change of affairs restores her wandering senses and the happy pair are united.
The music is in no sense dramatic, but lyric and pastoral throughout, and is specially marked by the beautiful French chansons with which it abounds. The first act opens with a delightful pastoral chorus of the maidens under the mulberry-trees ("Facciam carole, o giovinette"), which is very fresh and graceful. The second begins with an equally delightful chorus and farandole ("La Farandola tutti consola"), followed by the beautiful Provençal folk-song, "Dolce una brezza, intorno olezza," which is full of local color. Tavena sings a quaint fortune-teller's roundelay ("La stagione arriva"), and in the next scene Mireille has a number of rare beauty ("Ah! piu non temo fato "), in which she declares her unalterable attachment to Vincenzo. The finale of this act, with its strong aria ("Qui mi prostro innanzi ate"), is very spirited, and in fact may be considered the only dramatic episode in the whole work. The third act opens with the quaint little song of Andreluno, the shepherd boy ("L'alba tranquilla"), with oboe accompaniment. It also contains a plaintive song for tenor ("Ah! se de preghi miei"), and closes with a waltz song ("O d'amor messagera"), which is fairly gorgeous in bravura effects, and Hanslick says was a concession to Miolan-Carvalho, like the jewel song in "Faust" and the waltz song in "Romeo and Juliet." In the original libretto the song had its place in the first act, and indeed numerous changes have been made in the libretto since the opera first appeared; as in the original, Mireille dies in the arms of her lover, and Urias, Vincenzo's rival, is drowned in the Rhone. When it first appeared, however, great objection was made to several of the situations, and the libretto was declared fantastic and uninteresting; hence the changes. As a lyric drama, delightfully picturing the quaintness and simplicity of provincial life, not alone in the tunefulness of the music, but also in its pastoral naïveté and what may be termed its folk-characteristics, it will hold a high place upon the stage as long as young and fresh voices can be found to sing it.
HALEVY.
Jacques François Fromenthal Elias Halevy was born at Paris, May 27, 1799, of Israelitish parents, whose name was originally Levy. He entered the Conservatory in 1809, and in 1819 obtained the Grand Prize for his cantata of "Hermione." After his arrival in Italy he wrote several minor pieces, but his music did not attract public attention until his return to Paris, when his three-act opera, "Clari," brought out Dec. 9, 1828, with Malibran in the principal rôle, made a success. "Le Dilettante d'Avignon" (a satire on Italian librettos), "Manon Lescaut" (a ballet in three acts), "La Langue Musicàle," "La Tentation," and "Les Souvenirs" rapidly followed "Clari," with alternating successes and failures. In 1835 his great work, "La Juive," appeared, and in the same year, "L'Éclair," one of his most charming operas, written without chorus for two tenors and two sopranos. It was considered at the time a marvellous feat that he should have produced two such opposite works in the same year, and great hopes were entertained that he would surpass them. These hopes failed, however. He subsequently wrote over twenty operas, among them "Guido et Ginevra" (1838); "Charles VI." (1842); "La Reine de Chypre" (1842); "Les Mousquetaires de la Reine" (1846); "Le Val d'Andorre" (1848); "La Tempête" (1853): "Le Juif Errant" (1855), and others; but "La Juive" and "L'Éclair" remained his masterpieces, and procured him admission into the Institute. He was also a professor in the Conservatory, and among his pupils were Gounod, Massé, Bazin, Duvernoy, Bizet, and others. He enjoyed many honors, and died March 17, 1862. A De Profundis was sung on the occasion of his funeral, written by four of his pupils, MM. Gounod, Massé, Bazin, and Cohen. As a composer he was influenced largely by Meyerbeer, and is remarkable rather for his large dramatic effects than for his melody.
THE JEWESS
"La Juive," a grand opera in five acts, words by Scribe, originally written for Rossini and rejected in favor of "William Tell," was produced for the first time at the Académie, Paris, Feb. 23, 1835, with the following cast of the principal parts:—
RACHEL Mlle. CORNELIA FALCON.
EUDOXIA Mme. DORUS-GRAS.
ELEAZAR M. NOURRIT.
CARDINAL M. LEVASSEUR.
It was first produced in England in French, July 29, 1846, and in Italian under the title of "La Ebrea," July 25, 1850. In this country it is most familiar in the German version. The scene of the opera is laid in Constance, time, 1414. Leopold, a prince of the empire, returning from the wars, is enamoured of Rachel, a beautiful Jewess, daughter of Eleazar the goldsmith. The better to carry out his plans, he calls himself Samuel, and pretends to be a Jewish painter. Circumstances, however, dispel the illusion, and Rachel learns that he is no other than Leopold, husband of the princess Eudoxia. Overcome with indignation at the discovery of his perfidy, she publicly denounces his crime, and the Cardinal excommunicates Leopold, and pronounces his malediction on Rachel and her father. Rachel, Eleazar, and Leopold are thrown into prison to await the execution of the sentence of death. During their imprisonment Eudoxia intercedes with Rachel to save Leopold's life, and at last, moved by the grief of the rightful wife, she publicly recants her statement. Leopold is banished, but Rachel and her father are again condemned to death for conspiring against the life of a Christian. Eleazar determines to be revenged in the moment of death upon the Cardinal, who has sentenced them, and who is at the head of a church which he hates; and just before they are thrown into a caldron of fire, reveals to the spectators that Rachel is not his own, but an adopted daughter, saved from the ruins of the Cardinal's burning palace, and that she is his child.
The opera of "The Jewess" is pre-eminently spectacular, and its music is dramatic and declamatory rather than melodious. The prominent numbers of the first act are the solemn declaration of the Cardinal ("Wenn ew'ger Hass"), in which he replies to Eleazar's hatred of the Christian; the romance sung by Leopold ("Fern vom Liebchen weilen"), which is in the nature of a serenade to Rachel; the drinking-song of the people at the fountain, which is flowing wine ("Eilt herbei"); and the splendid chorus and march ("Leht, es nahet sich der Zug") which preludes the imposing pageantry music of the Emperor's arrival, closing with the triumphant Te Deum to organ accompaniment and the greeting to the Emperor, "Hosanna, unser Kaiser hoch."
The second act opens with the celebration of the Passover in Eleazar's house, and introduces a very solemn and impressive prayer ("Allmächt'ger blicke gnädig"). In the next scene there is a passionate ensemble and duet for Eudoxia and Leopold ("Ich will ihn seh'n"), which is followed by a second spirited duet between Rachel and Leopold ("Als mein Herz"); an intensely dramatic aria ("Ach! Vater! Halt ein!"), in which she claims her share of Leopold's guilt; and the final grand trio of anathema pronounced by Eleazar.
The third act is principally devoted to the festivities of the royal pageants, and closes with the anathema of the Cardinal ("Ihr, die ihr Gottes Zorn"), which is a concerted number of magnificent power and spirited dramatic effect. The fourth act contains a grand duet between Eleazar and the Cardinal ("Hört ich recht?"), and closes with one of the most powerful scenas ever written for tenor ("Das Todesurtheil sprich"), in which Eleazar welcomes death and hurls defiance at the Christians. The last act is occupied with the tragic dénouement, which affords splendid opportunities for action, and is accompanied by very dramatic music to the close, often rising to real sublimity. In the pageantry of the stage, in the expression of high and passionate sentiment, in elaborateness of treatment, and in broad and powerful dramatic effect, "The Jewess" is one of the strongest operas in the modern repertory.
HUMPERDINCK.
Engelbert Humperdinck, the latest star in the German musical firmament, was born, Sept. 1, 1854, at Siegburg on the Rhine, and received his earliest musical training at the Cologne Conservatory. He made such rapid progress in his studies, showing special proficiency in composition, that he carried off in succession the three prizes of the Mozart, Mendelssohn, and Meyerbeer stipends. These enabled him to continue his lessons at Munich, and afterwards in Italy. While in Naples, in 1880, he attracted the attention of Richard Wagner as a rising genius, and two years later had the honor of an invitation to go to Venice as his guest, upon the occasion of the performance of Wagner's only symphony. In 1885 he went to Barcelona, Spain, where he taught composition, and was the director of a quartette at the Royal Conservatory for two years. In 1887 he returned to Cologne, and since 1890 has been identified with a Conservatory at Frankfort-on-the-Main. In addition to the opera "Hansel and Gretel," which has given him a world-wide fame, he produced, a few years ago, a chorus ballad, "Das Glück von Edenhall," and a cantata, "Die Wallfahrt nach Kevelaar," based upon Heine's poem, and scored for soloists, chorus, and orchestra. He has also written several songs and piano pieces, and, it is now reported, is engaged upon a dramatic composition called "The Royal Children." He is regarded in Germany as the one composer who gives promise of continuing and developing the scheme of the music-drama as it was propounded by Wagner.
HANSEL AND GRETEL.
"Hansel and Gretel," a fairy opera in three acts, words by Adelheid Wette, was first produced in Germany in 1894. In January, 1895, it was performed in London by the Royal Carl Rosa Opera Company, rendered into English by Constance Bache; and in the fall of the same year it had its first representation in New York, at Daly's Theatre, with the following cast:—
PETER, a broom-maker Mr. JACQUES BARS.
GERTRUDE, his wife Miss ALICE GORDON.
THE WITCH Miss LOUISE MEISSLINGER.
HANSEL Miss MARIE ELBA.
GRETEL Miss JEANNE DOUSTE.
SANDMAN, the Sleep Fairy Miss CECILE BRANI.
DEWMAN, the Dawn Fairy Miss EDITH JOHNSTON.
The story is taken from one of Grimm's well-known fairy tales, and the text was written by the composer's sister, Adelheid Wette. It was Frau Wette's intention to arrange the story in dramatic form for the amusement of her children, her brother lending his co-operation by writing a few little melodies, of a simple nature, to accompany the performance. When he had read it, however, the story took his fancy, and its dramatic possibilities so appealed to him that he determined to give it an operatic setting with full orchestral score, and thus placed it in the higher sphere of world performance by an art which not alone reveals the highest type of genial German sentimentality, but, curiously enough, applied to this simple little story of angels, witches, and the two babes in the woods the same musical methods which Wagner has employed in telling the stories of gods and demigods. Perhaps its highest praise was sounded by Siegfried Wagner, son of Richard Wagner, who declared that "Hansel and Gretel" was the most important German opera since "Parsifal," notwithstanding its childishness and simplicity.
After a beautifully instrumented prelude, which has already become a favorite concert piece, the curtain rises upon the home of Peter, the broom-maker. The parents are away seeking for food, and Hansel and Gretel have been left in the cottage with instructions to knit and make brooms. There is a charming dialogue between the two children, beginning with a doleful lament over their poverty, and ending with an outburst of childish hilarity in song and dancing,—a veritable romp in music,—which is suddenly interrupted by the return of Gertrude, the mother, empty-handed, who chides them for their behavior, and in her anger upsets a jug of milk which was the only hope of supper in the house. With an energetic outburst of recitative she sends them into the forest, telling them not to return until they have filled their basket with strawberries. After lamenting her loss, and mourning over her many troubles, she falls asleep, but is awakened by the return of Peter, who has been more fortunate, and has brought home some provisions. A rollicking scene ensues, but suddenly he misses the children, and breaks out in a fit of rage when he is informed that they have gone into the forest. To the accompaniment of most gruesome and characteristic music he tells his wife of the witch who haunts the woods, and who, living in a honey-cake house, entices little children to it, bakes them into gingerbread in her oven, and then devours them.
The second act, "In the Forest," is preluded by a characteristic instrumental number, "The Witches' Ride." The children are discovered near the Ilsenstein, among the fir-trees, making garlands, listening to the cuckoos, and mocking them in a beautiful duet with echo accompaniment. At last, however, they realize that they are lost; and in the midst of their fear, which is intensified by strange sights and sounds, the Sandman, or sleep fairy, approaches them, strews sand in their eyes, and sings them to sleep with a most delicious lullaby, after they have recited their prayer, "When at night I go to sleep, fourteen Angels watch do keep." As they sleep the mist rolls away, the forest background disappears, and the fourteen angels come down a sort of Jacob's ladder and surround the children, while other angels perform a stately dance, grouping themselves in picturesque tableau as the curtain falls.
The third act is entitled "The Witch's House." The children are still sleeping, but the angels have vanished. The Dawn-Fairy steps forward and shakes dewdrops from a bluebell over them, accompanying the action with a delightful song, "I'm up with early Dawning." Gretel is the first to wake, and rouses Hansel by tickling him with a leaf, at the same time singing a veritable tickling melody, and then telling him what she has seen in her dream. In place of the fir-trees they discover the witch's house at the Ilsenstein, with an oven on one side and on the other a cage, both joined to the house by a curious fence of gingerbread figures. The house itself is constructed of sweets and creams. Attracted by its delicious fragrance and toothsomeness, the hungry children break off a piece and are nibbling at it, when the old witch within surprises and captures them. After a series of incantations, and much riding upon her broomstick, which are vividly portrayed in the music, she prepares to cook Gretel in the oven; but while looking into it the children deftly tumble her into the fire. The witch waltz, danced by the children and full of joyous abandon, follows. To a most vivid accompaniment, Hansel rushes into the house and throws fruit, nuts, and sweetmeats into Gretel's apron. Meanwhile the oven falls into bits, and a crowd of children swarms around them, released from their gingerbread disguises, and sing a swelling chorus of gratitude as two of the boys drag the witch from the ruins of the oven in the form of a big gingerbread-cake. The father and mother appear. Their long quest is ended. The family join in singing a pious little hymn, "When past bearing is our grief, God the Lord will send relief;" and the children dance joyously around the reunited group. The story is only a little child's tale, but it is wedded to music of the highest order. The union has been made so deftly, the motives are so charming and take their places so skilfully, and the music is so scholarly and characteristic throughout, that no one has yet considered this union as incongruous. In this respect "Hansel and Gretel" is a distinct creation in the operatic world.
LEONCAVALLO.
Ruggiero Leoncavallo, a promising representative of the young Italian school, was born in Naples, March 8, 1858. He first studied with Siri, and afterwards learned harmony and the piano from Simonetti. While a student at the Naples Conservatory he was advised by Rossi, one of his teachers, to devote himself to opera. In pursuance of this counsel, he went to Bologna, and there wrote his first opera, "Tommaso Chatterton," which still remains in manuscript and unperformed. Then followed a series of "wander years," during which he visited many European countries, giving lessons in singing and upon the piano, and meeting with varying fortunes. In all these years, however, he cherished the plan of producing a trilogy in the Wagnerian manner with a groundwork from Florentine history. In a letter he says: "I subdivided the historical periods in the following way: first part, 'I Medici,' from the accession of Sextus IV. to the Pazzi conspiracy; second part, 'Savonorola,' from the investiture of Fra Benedetto to the death of Savonorola; third part, 'Cesare Borgia,' from the death of the Duke of Candia to that of Alexander VI." The first part was completed and performed in Milan in November, 1893, and was a failure, notwithstanding its effective instrumentation. It was not so, however, with the little two-act opera "I Pagliacci," which was produced May 21, 1892, at Milan, and met with an instantaneous and enthusiastic success. His next work was a chorus with orchestral accompaniment, the text based upon Balzac's rhapsodical and highly wrought "Seraphita," which was performed at Milan in 1894. It has been recently reported that the Emperor of Germany has given him a commission to produce an opera upon a national subject, "Roland of Berlin." Of his works, "I Pagliacci" is the only one known in the United States. It has met with great favor here, and has become standard in the Italian repertory.
I PAGLIACCI.
"I Pagliacci," an Italian opera in two acts, words by the composer, Ruggiero Leoncavallo, was first performed at Milan, May 21, 1892, and was introduced in this country in the spring of 1894, Mme. Arnoldson, Mme. Calvé, and Signors Ancona, Gromzeski, Guetary, and De Lucia taking the principal parts. The scene is laid in Calabria during the Feast of the Assumption. The Pagliacci are a troupe of itinerant mountebanks, the characters being Nedda, the Columbine, who is wife of Canio, or Punchinello, master of the troupe; Tonio, the Clown; Beppe, the Harlequin; and Silvio, a villager.
The first act opens with the picturesque arrival of the troupe in the village, and the preparations for a performance in the rustic theatre, with which the peasants are overjoyed. The tragic element of the composition is apparent at once, and the action moves swiftly on to the fearful dénouement. Tonio, the clown, is in love with Nedda, and before the performance makes advances to her, which she resents by slashing him across the face with Beppe's riding-whip. He rushes off vowing revenge, and upon his return overhears Nedda declaring her passion for Silvio, a young peasant, and arranging to elope with him. Tonio thereupon seeks Canio, and tells him of his wife's infidelity. Canio hurries to the spot, encounters Nedda; but Silvio has fled, and she refuses to give his name. He attempts to stab her, but is prevented by Beppe, and the act closes with the final preparation for the show, the grief-stricken husband donning the motley in gloomy and foreboding silence.
The second act opens with Tonio beating the big drum, and the people crowding to the show, among them Silvio, who manages to make an appointment with Nedda while she is collecting the money. The curtain of the little theatre rises, disclosing a small room barely furnished. The play to be performed is almost an identical picture of the real situation in the unfortunate little troupe. Columbine, who is to poison her husband, Punchinello, is entertaining her lover, Harlequin, while Taddeo, the clown, watches for Punchinello's return. When Canio finally appears the mimic tragedy becomes one in reality. Inflamed with passion, he rushes upon Nedda, and demands the name of her lover. She still refuses to tell. He draws his dagger. Nedda, conscious of her danger, calls upon Silvio in the audience to save her; but it is too late. Her husband kills her, and Silvio, who rushes upon the stage, is killed with the same dagger. With a wild cry full of hate, jealousy, and despair, the unfortunate Canio tells the audience "La commedia è finita" ("The comedy is finished"). The curtain falls upon the tragedy, and the excited audience disperses.
The story is peculiarly Italian in its motive, though the composer has been charged with taking it from "La Femme de Tabarin," by the French novelist, Catulle Mendès. Be this as it may, Leoncavallo's version has the merit of brevity, conciseness, ingenuity, and swift action, closing in a dénouement of great tragic power and capable, in the hands of a good actor, of being made very effective. The composer has not alone been charged with borrowing the story, but also with plagiarizing the music. So far as the accusation of plagiarism is concerned, however, it hardly involves anything more serious than those curious resemblances which are so often found in musical compositions. As a whole, the opera is melodious, forceful, full of snap and go, and intensely dramatic, and is without a dull moment from the prologue ("Si può? Signore") sung before the curtain by Tonio to that last despairing outcry of Canio ("La commedia è finita"), upon which the curtain falls. The prominent numbers are the prologue already referred to; Nedda's beautiful cavatina in the second scene ("O, che volo d'angello"); her duet with Silvio in the third scene ("E allor perchè"); the passionate declamation of Canio at the close of the first act ("Recitur! mentre preso dal delirio"); the serenade of Beppe in the second act ("O Colombino, il tenero"); and the graceful dance-music which plays so singular a part in this fierce struggle of the passions, which forms the motive of the closing scenes.
MASCAGNI.
Pietro Mascagni, who leaped into fame at a single bound, was born at Leghorn, Dec. 7, 1863. His father was a baker, and had planned for his son a career in the legal profession; but, as often happens, fate ordered otherwise. His tastes were distinctly musical, and his determination to study music was encouraged by Signor Bianchi, a singing teacher, who recognized his talent. For a time he took lessons, unknown to his father, of Soffredini, but when it was discovered he was ordered to abandon music and devote himself to the law. At this juncture his uncle Stefano came to his rescue, took him to his house, provided him with a piano, and also with the means to pursue his studies. Recognizing the uselessness of further objections, the father at last withdrew them, and left his son free to follow his own pleasure. He progressed so rapidly under Soffredini that he was soon engaged in composition, his first works being a symphony in C minor and a "Kyrie," which were performed in 1879. In 1881 he composed a cantata, "In Filanda," and a setting of Schiller's hymn, "An die Freude," both of which had successful public performances. The former attracted the attention of a rich nobleman who furnished young Mascagni with the means to attend the Milan Conservatory. After studying there a short time, he suddenly left Milan with an operatic troupe, and visited various Italian cities, a pilgrimage which was of great value to him, as it made him acquainted with the resources of an orchestra and the details of conducting. The troupe, however, met with hard fortunes, and was soon disbanded, throwing Mascagni upon the world. For a few years he made a precarious living in obscure towns, by teaching, and had at last reached desperate extremities when one day he read in a newspaper that Sonzogno, the music publisher, had offered prizes for the three best one act operas, to be performed in Rome. He at once entered into the competition, and produced "Cavalleria Rusticana." It took the first prize. It did more than this for the impecunious composer. When performed, it made a success of enthusiasm. He was called twenty times before the curtain. Honors and decorations were showered upon him. He was everywhere greeted with serenades and ovations. Every opera-house in Europe clamored for the new work. In a day he had risen from utter obscurity and become world-famous. His sudden popularity, however, had a pernicious effect, as it induced him to rush out more operas without giving sufficient time to their preparation. "L'Amico Fritz," based upon the well-known Erckmann-Chatrian story, and "I Rantzau" quickly followed "Cavalleria Rusticana," but did not meet with its success. Last year however he produced two operas at Milan, "Guglielmo Ratcliff" and "Silvano," which proved successful. Whether "Cavalleria Rusticana" is to remain as his only hold upon popular favor, the future alone can tell; but that he has talent of the highest order, and that he has produced an opera whose reception has been almost unparalleled in the world of music cannot be questioned.
CAVALLERIA RUSTICANA.
"Cavalleria Rusticana," an opera in one act, words by Signori Targioni-Tozzetti and Menasci, music by Pietro Mascagni, was written in 1890, and was first performed at the Costanzi Theatre in Rome, May 20, of that year, with Gemma Bellinconi and Roberto Stagno in the two principal rôles. It had its first American production in Philadelphia, Sept. 9, 1891, with Mme. Kronold as Santuzza, Miss Campbell as Lola, Guille as Turridu, Del Puente as Alfio, and Jeannie Teal as Lucia.
The story upon which the text of "Cavalleria Rusticana" is based is taken from a Sicilian tale by Giovanni Verga. It is peculiarly Italian in its motive, running a swift, sure gamut of love, flirtation, jealousy, and death,—a melodrama of a passionate and tragic sort, amid somewhat squalid environments, that particularly lends itself to music of Mascagni's forceful sort. The overture graphically presents the main themes of the opera, and these themes illustrate a very simple but strong story. Turridu, a young Sicilian peasant, arrived home from army service, finds that his old love, Lola, during his absence has married Alfio, a carter. To console himself he makes love to Santuzza, who returns his passion with ardor. The inconstant Turridu, however, soon tires of her and makes fresh advances to Lola, who, inspired by her jealousy of Santuzza, and her natural coquetry, smiles upon him again. The latter seeks to reclaim him, and, when she is rudely repulsed, tells the story of Lola's perfidy to Alfio, who challenges Turridu and kills him.
During the overture Turridu sings a charming Siciliana ("O Lola c'hai di latti"), and the curtain rises, disclosing a Sicilian village with a church decorated for Easter service. As the sacristan opens its doors, the villagers appear and sing a hymn to the Madonna. A hurried duet follows, in which Santuzza reveals to mother Lucia her grief at the perfidy of Turridu. Her discourse is interrupted by the entrance of Alfio, singing a rollicking whip-song ("Il cavallo scalpita") with accompaniment of male chorus. The scene then develops into a trio, closing with a hymn ("Inneggiamo, il Signor"), sung by the people in the square, and led by Santuzza herself, and blending with the "Regina Coeli," performed by the choir inside the church with organ accompaniment, the number finally working up into a tremendous climax in genuine Italian style.
In the next scene Santuzza tells her sad story to Lucia, Turridu's mother, in a romanza of great power ("Voi lo sapete"), closing with an outburst of the highest significance as she appeals to Lucia to pray for her. In the next scene Turridu enters. Santuzza upbraids him, and a passionate duet follows in which Santuzza's suspicions are more than confirmed by his avowal of his passion for Lola. The duet is interrupted by a song of the latter, heard in the distance with harp accompaniment ("Fior di giaggiolo"). As she approaches the pair the song grows livelier, and at its close she banters poor Santuzza with biting sarcasms, and assails Turridu with all the arts of coquetry. She passes into the church, confident that the infatuated Turridu will follow her. An impassioned duo of great power follows, in which Santuzza pleads with him to love her, but all in vain. He rushes into the church. She attempts to follow him, but falls upon the steps just as Alfio comes up. To him she relates the story of her troubles, and of Turridu's baseness. Alfio promises to revenge her, and another powerful duet follows.
As they leave the stage, there is a sudden and most unexpected change in the character of the music and the motive of the drama. In the place of struggle, contesting passions, and manifestations of rage, hate, and jealousy ensues an intermezzo for orchestra, with an accompaniment of harps and organ, of the utmost simplicity and sweetness, breathing something like a sacred calm, and turning the thoughts away from all this human turmoil into conditions of peace and rest. It has not only become one of the most favorite numbers in the concert repertory, but is ground out from every barrel-organ the world over, and yet it has retained its hold upon popular admiration.
At its close the turmoil begins again and the action hastens to the tragic dénouement. The people come out of the church singing a glad chorus which is followed by a drinking song ("Viva il vino"), sung by Turridu, and joined in by Lola and chorus. In the midst of the hilarity Alfio appears. Turridu invites him to join them and drink; but he refuses, and the quarrel begins. Lola and the frightened women withdraw. Turridu bites Alfio's right ear,—a Sicilian form of challenge. The scene closes with the death of the former at Alfio's hands, and Santuzza is avenged; but the fickle Lola has gone her way bent upon other conquests.
MEYERBEER.
Giacomo Meyerbeer, the eldest son of Herz Beer, was born in Berlin, Sept. 5, 1794. He was named Jacob Meyer Beer, but afterwards called himself Giacomo Meyerbeer. His early studies were pursued with the pianist Lanska, and Bernard Anselm Weber, chief of the Berlin orchestra. At fifteen he became the pupil of Vogler in Darmstadt, with whom he displayed such talent in composition that he was named Composer to the Court by the Grand Duke. At eighteen his first dramatic work, "The Daughter of Jephtha," was performed at Munich. He then began the world for himself, and made his début in Vienna as a pianist with great success. His first opera, "The Two Caliphs," met with complete failure, as it was not written in the Italian form. He at once transformed his style and brought out "Romilda e Costanza," a serio-comic opera, with great success, at Padua. In 1820, "Emma di Resburgo" appeared at Venice, and from this period his star was in the ascendant. "The Gate of Brandeburg," "Margharita d' Anjou," "Esule di Granata," and "Almanzar" followed in quick succession, and were well received, though with nothing like the furor which "Il Crociato in Egitto" created in Venice in 1824. His next great work, "Robert le Diable," was produced in Paris, Nov. 21, 1831, the unparalleled success of which carried its fame to every part of the civilized world. In 1836 "The Huguenots," unquestionably his masterpiece, was brought out, and it still holds its place as one of the grandest dramatic works the world has ever seen. In 1838 Scribe furnished him the libretto of "L'Africaine," but before the music was finished he had changed the text so much that Scribe withdrew it altogether. He was consoled, however, by Meyerbeer's taking from him the libretto of "Le Prophete," this opera being finished in 1843. During the following year he wrote several miscellaneous pieces besides the three-act German opera, "Ein Feldlager in Schlesien," in which Jenny Lind made her Berlin début. In 1846 he composed the overture and incidental music to his brother's drama of "Struensee," and in 1847 he not only prepared the way for Wagner's "Flying Dutchman" in Paris, but personally produced "Rienzi,"—services which Wagner poorly requited. In 1849 "Le Prophete" was given in Paris; in 1854, "L'Etoile du Nord;" and in 1859, "Dinorah;" but none of them reached the fame of "The Huguenots." In 1860 he wrote two cantatas and commenced a musical drama called "Goethe's Jugendzeit," which was never finished. In 1862 and 1863 he worked upon "L'Africaine," and at last brought it forward as far as a rehearsal; but he died April 23, 1863, and it was not performed until two years after his death.
THE HUGUENOTS.
"Les Huguenots," a grand opera in five acts, words by Scribe and Deschamps, was first produced at the Académie, Paris, Feb. 29, 1836, with the following cast of the principal parts:—
VALENTIN Mlle. FALCON.
MARGUERITE DE VALOIS Mme. DORUS-GRAS.
URBAIN Mlle. FLECHEUX.
COUNT DE ST. BRIS M. LERDA.
COUNT DE NEVERS M. DERIVIS.
RAOUL DE NANGIS M. NOURRIT.
MARCEL M. LEVASSEUR.
At its first production in London in Italian, as "Gli Ugonotti," July 20, 1848, the cast was even more remarkable than that above. Meyerbeer specially adapted the opera for the performance, transposed the part of the page, which was written for a soprano, and expressly composed a cavatina to be sung by Mme. Alboni, in the scene of the château and gardens of Chenonceaux, forming the second act of the original work, but now given as the second scene of the first act in the Italian version. The cast was as follows:—
VALENTIN Mme. PAULINE VIARDOT.
MARGUERITE DE VALOIS Mme. CASTELLAN.
URBAIN Mlle. ALBONI.
COUNT DE ST. BRIS Sig. TAMBURINI.
COUNT DE NEVERS Sig. TAGLIAFICO.
RAOUL DE NANGIS Sig. MARIO.
MARCEL Sig. MARINI.
The action of the opera passes in 1572, the first and second acts in Touraine, and the remainder in Paris. The first act opens on a scene of revelry in the salon of Count de Nevers, where a number of noblemen, among them Raoul de Nangis, a Protestant, accompanied by his faithful old Huguenot servant, Marcel, are present, telling stories of their exploits in love. Marguerite de Valois, the betrothed of Henry IV., for the sake of reconciling the dispute between the two religious sects, sends her page to De Nevers's salon and invites Raoul to her château. When he arrives, Marguerite informs him of her purpose to give him in marriage to a Catholic lady, daughter of the Count de St. Bris. Raoul at first consents; but when Valentin is introduced to him and he discovers her to be a lady whom he had once rescued from insult and who had visited De Nevers in his salon, he rejects the proposition, believing that her affections have been bestowed upon another, and that his enemies are seeking to entrap him. St. Bris challenges Raoul for the affront, but the Queen disarms the angry combatants. Valentin is now urged to marry Count de Nevers, and begs that she may pass the day in prayer in the chapel. Meanwhile Count de St. Bris, who has been challenged by Raoul, forms a plot for his assassination, which is overheard by Valentin from within the chapel. She communicates the plot to Marcel, who lies in wait with a party of Huguenots in the vicinity of the duel, and comes to Raoul's rescue when danger threatens him. A general combat is about to ensue, but it is suppressed by Marguerite, who suddenly appears upon the scene. Raoul thus discovers that he owes his life to Valentin, and that her visit to De Nevers was to induce him to sever the relations between them, as she was in love with Raoul. The announcement comes too late, for the marriage festivities have already begun. Raoul visits her for the last time. Their interview is disturbed by the approach of De Nevers, St. Bris, and other Catholic noblemen, who meet to arrange the details of the plot conceived by Catherine de Médicis for the slaughter of the Huguenots on St. Bartholomew's Eve. Valentin hurriedly conceals Raoul behind the tapestries, where he overhears their plans and witnesses the conjuration and the blessing of the swords, as well as the refusal of the chivalrous De Nevers to engage in murder. After the conspirators have departed, Raoul and Valentin have a long and affecting interview, in which he hesitates between love and honor, Valentin striving to detain him lest he may be included in the general massacre. Honor at last prevails, and he joins his friends just before the work of slaughter begins. He rushes to the festivities which are about to be given in honor of the marriage of Marguerite with the King of Navarre, and warns the Huguenots of their danger. He then makes his way to a chapel where many of them are gathered for refuge. He finds Marcel, who has been wounded, and who brings him the tidings of the death of De Nevers. The faithful Valentin joins them to share their fate. Amid the horrors of the massacre Marcel blesses and unites them. They enter the church and all perish together.
The first act opens with the brilliant chorus of the revellers ("Piacer della mensa"), which is full of courtly grace. Raoul tells the story of the unknown fair one he has encountered, in the romanza, "Piu bianca del velo." When Marcel is called upon, he hurriedly chants the hymn, "O tu che ognor," set to the Martin Luther air, "Ein feste Burg," and heightened by a stirring accompaniment, and then bursts out into a graphic song ("Finita è pe' frati"), emphasized with the piff-paff of bullets and full of martial fervor. In delightful contrast with the fierce Huguenot song comes the lively and graceful romanza of Urbain ("Nobil donna e tanto onesta"), followed by a delightful septet. The scene now changes, and with it the music. We are in the Queen's gardens at Chenonceaux. Every number, the Queen's solo ("A questa voce sola"), the delicate "Bathers' Chorus," as it is called ("Audiam, regina, in questo amene sponde"), the brilliant and graceful allegretto sung by Urbain ("No, no, no, no"), the duet between the Queen and Raoul, based upon one of the most flowing of melodies, and the spirited and effective finale in which the nobles take the oath of allegiance ("Per la fè, per l'onore"),—each and every one of these is colored with consummate skill, while all are invested with chivalrous refinement and stately grace.
The second act opens with a beautiful choral embroidery in which different choruses, most striking in contrast, are interwoven with masterly skill. It is a picture, in music, of the old Paris. The citizens rejoice over their day's work done. The Huguenots shout their lusty Rataplan, while the Papist maidens sing their solemn litany ("Ave Maria") on their way to chapel; and as they disappear, the quaint tones of the curfew chant are heard, and night and rest settle down upon the city. It is a striking introduction to what follows,—the exquisite duet between Marcel and Valentin, the great septet of the duel scene, beginning, "De dritti miei ho l'alma accesa," with the tremendous double chorus which follows as the two bands rush upon the scene. As if for relief from the storm of this scene, the act closes with brilliant pageant music as De Nevers approaches to escort Valentin to her bridal.
The third act is the climax of the work, and stands almost unrivalled in the field of dramatic music, for the manner in which horror and passion are illustrated. After a dark and despairing aria by Valentin ("Eccomi sola ormai"), and a brief duet with Raoul, the conspirators enter. The great trio, closing with the conjuration, "Quel Dio," the awful and stately chant of the monks in the blessing of the unsheathed daggers ("Sia gloria eterna e onore"), and the thrilling unisons of the chorus ("D'un sacro zel l'ardore"), which fairly glow with energy, fierceness, and religious fury,—these numbers of themselves might have made an act; but Meyerbeer does not pause here. He closes with a duet between Raoul and Valentin which does not suffer in comparison with the tremendous combinations which have preceded it. It is filled with the alternations of despair and love, of grief and ecstasy. In its movement it is the very whirlwind of passion. Higher form dramatic music can hardly reach. In the Italian version the performance usually closes at this point; but there is still another striking and powerful scene, that in which Raoul and Valentin are united by the dying Marcel. Then the three join in a sublime trio, and for the last time chant together the old Lutheran psalm, and await their fate amid the triumphant harpings that sound from the orchestra and the hosanna they sing to its accompaniment.
THE STAR OF THE NORTH.
"L'Étoile du Nord," an opera in three acts, words by Scribe, was first performed at the Opera Comique, Paris, Feb. 16, 1854, and in Italian as "La Stella del Nord" at Covent Garden, London, July 19, 1855. In English it has been produced under the title of "The Star of the North." The opera contains several numbers from the composer's earlier work, "Feldlager in Schlesien," which was written for the opening of the Berlin opera-house, in memory of Frederick the Great, and was subsequently (Feb. 17, 1847) performed with great success in Vienna, Jenny Lind taking the rôle of Vielka. The "Feldlager," however, has never been given out of Germany.
The action of the opera transpires in Wyborg, on the Gulf of Finland, in the first act, at a camp of the Russians in the second, and at the palace of the Czar Peter in the third. In the first, Peter, who is working at Wyborg, disguised as a carpenter, makes the acquaintance of Danilowitz, a pastry-cook, and Catharine, a cantiniere, whose brother George is about to marry Prascovia. Catharine brings about this marriage; and not only that, but saves the little village from an invasion by a strolling horde of Tartars, upon whose superstition she practises successfully, and so conducts herself in general that Peter falls in love with her, and they are betrothed, though she is not aware of the real person who is her suitor. Meanwhile the conscription takes place, and to save her newly wedded brother she volunteers for fifteen days in his place, disguising herself as a soldier. In the next act we find Catharine going her rounds as a sentinel in the Russian camp on the Finnish frontier. Peter and Danilowitz are also there, and are having a roistering time in their tent, drinking and making love to a couple of girls. Hearing Peter's voice she recognizes it, and curiosity leads her to peep into the tent. She is shocked at what she beholds, neglects her duty, and is found by the corporal in this insubordinate condition. He remonstrates with her, and she answers with a slap on his ears, for which she incurs the penalties of disobedience to orders as well as insulting behavior to her superior officer. Peter at last is roused from his drunkenness by the news of an insurrection among his own soldiers and the approach of the enemy. He rushes out and promises to give Peter into their hands if they will obey and follow him. At last, struck with his bearing and authority, they demand to know who he is, whereupon he declares himself the Czar. The mutiny is at once quelled. They submit, and offer their lives as warrant for their loyalty. The last act opens in the Czar's palace, where his old companion, Danilowitz, has been installed in high favor. Catharine, however, has disappeared. George and Prascovia arrive from Finland, but they know nothing of her. The faithful Danilowitz finds her, but she has lost her reason. Her friends try to restore it by surrounding her with recollections of home, and Peter at last succeeds by playing upon his flute the airs he used to play to her in Finland. Her senses come back, and thus all ends happily; for Catharine and Peter are at last united amid the acclamations of the people.