Part 7
The influence of this admirable artist upon French music has been very great. In a volume of verses recently published Saint-Saëns thus apostrophises her:
"_Gloire de la Musique et de la Tragédie; Muse qu'un laurier d'or couronna tant de fois, Oserai-je parler de vous, lorsque ma voix Au langage des vers follement s'étudie?_
_Les poëtes par Apollon vainqueur Ont seuls assez de fleurs pour en faire une gerbe Digne de ce génie éclatant et superbe Qui pour l'éternité vous a faite leur soeur._
_Du culte du beau chant prêtresse vénérée, Ne laissez pas crouler son autel précieux, Vous qui l'avez reçu comme un dépôt des cieux, Vous qui du souvenir êtes la préférée!_
_Ah! comment oublier l'implacable Fidés De l'amour maternel endurant le supplice, Orphée en pleurs qui pour revoir son Eurydice Enhardi par Éros pénétre dans l'Hades!_
_Grande comme la Lyre et vibrante comme elle, Vous avez eu dans l'Art un éclat nonpareil. Vision trop rapide, hélas! que nul soleil Dans l'avenir jamais ne nous rendra plus belle!_"
In 1875 the first act of "Samson et Dalila" was given in its entirety in Paris at one of Mons. Colonne's concerts.
It was, however, not until the second of December 1877 that "Samson et Dalila" was brought out upon the stage. Liszt, ever anxious to further the progress of art, had been struck by the merits of the work, and undertook to have it mounted at Weimar, where some twenty-five years earlier he had been instrumental in producing "Lohengrin" for the first time on any stage.
Musicians of the calibre of Liszt are indeed rare, and it is right to tender a passing tribute to the absolute disinterestedness of this great man, who never lost an opportunity of helping a brother artist. Having been brought out on German soil for the first time, a fact which the composer should remember when indulging in those patriotic ebullitions that of late years have so frequently appeared from his pen, "Samson et Dalila" was played at Hamburg in 1883 with Frau Sucher in the principal part.
It was not until 1890 that the opera was given in France, Rouen being the first town in which it was played. During that year it was produced in Paris at the Eden Theatre under the same manager. On this occasion the principal parts were interpreted by Mme. Rosine Bloch and Mons. Talazac, both of whom have recently died.
Lyons, Marseilles, and Aix-les-Bains followed in 1891, and the next year "Samson et Dalila" was given at Toulouse, Bordeaux, Montpellier, Nantes, Nice, Florence, Monte Carlo, Geneva, and Dijon, receiving its final consecration by being produced on a grand scale at the Paris Opera House, having thus occupied a period of twenty years in reaching its goal. It has since then been played in other continental towns. London still remains, and upon this I should like to say a word. The fact of "Samson et Dalila" being taken from a Biblical source has been accepted as a reason for its non-production in our metropolis. That a work of the most serious import should thus be excluded from our stage when productions of the most futile description are passed without demur, is another example of the contradictions that exist in our pharisaical country.
Not so long ago an operetta was licensed in which ministers of religion were held up to ridicule, and jokes were freely made concerning matters that must by a great portion of the audience have been held sacred, and yet nothing was said. But should some manager think of producing an episode culled from the Old Testament, and treated in a strictly serious and even reverent manner, the British conscience, that article of home manufacture of which Englishmen are so proud, is at once up in arms. We cannot support too many music-halls or give too much encouragement to those bastard specimens of operatic music known as "original" (?) comic operas, but our feelings of propriety revolt against anything like the stage treatment of works founded upon Biblical subjects. Let us be consistent whilst we are about it. If it is wrong to introduce Samson, Dalila, the Queen of Sheba, Joseph, Moses, or other Biblical personages upon the stage, it is surely worse to sanction the performance of operas or dramas in which scenes are introduced representing the interior of churches, or religious ceremonies of any description! Worse than all is the performance of pieces calculated to throw ridicule upon ministers of religion. To see respectable audiences sitting complacently gazing at a popular actor personifying a clergyman dancing in a _pas de quatre_ with his chapel in the background, and to think that some of these very individuals may possibly be numbered amongst those who object to Sunday concerts, is indeed more than strange.
In the meanwhile as this state of things exists, and the musical public is debarred from hearing a work like "Samson et Dalila" on the stage, it may be wondered that no one seems to have been struck with the idea of producing it in oratorio form in the concert-room. It is not creditable that England should remain the only nation where "Samson et Dalila" has not been given.[24]
The prejudice existing against the employment of Biblical subjects for operatic purposes is unfortunate, as the fund of material is apparently exhaustless. The story of Samson and Dalila has furnished Saint-Saëns with a plot such as he has since sought for in vain in the pages of English and French history. The less complicated the story, the better it is fitted for operatic treatment. Wagner has exposed his reasons at length concerning the superiority of a legendary over a historical subject. Saint-Saëns is unfortunately not of this way of thinking. Of later years the bias of his mind has been rather tending towards historical subjects.
"Samson et Dalila" may be considered not only as one of the master's best operas, perhaps even as the very best, but as one of the finest dramatic works produced by any French composer during the last five-and-twenty or thirty years.
A work like this cannot be otherwise than the spontaneous outcome of a composer's feelings, untrammelled by outward considerations. The varied influences that are noticeable in the musical style of Saint-Saëns, and to which I have already made allusion, are perhaps more marked in this work than in any of his other operas. In the first act the choruses sung by the captive Hebrews breathe the spirit of Bach and Handel, and are conceived rather in the oratorio style. As a strong contrast to these we have the dainty chorus of the priestesses of Dagon and their characteristic dance, the fascinating trio in which Dalila endeavours to cast her spell over Samson, and the lovely air, "Printemps qui commence," which terminates the act and which has been sung by every contralto. Samson's spirited appeal to arms must also be mentioned. The second act commences with Dalila's invocation to love, praying for aid in her design to ensnare Samson. The lengthy duet between the heroine and the high priest is eminently dramatic, and the following duet between her and Samson may be ranked amongst the finest love scenes ever written. It contains a beautiful phrase sung by the temptress when endeavouring to inveigle her victim, which is reproduced later on in an admirably suggestive manner by the orchestra, and reappears in the third act, transformed into a mocking theme, when Dalila is scoffing at her victim in chains and deprived of his sight. The third and last act contains a touching prayer for Samson, bewailing his lost sight, some admirable ballet music, in which the composer has made effective use of the Eastern scale, and a masterly scene depicting the revelries of the Philistines, culminating in the destruction of the temple by Samson. So ends this beautiful score, the merits of which are so transparent and yet have remained so long unrecognised.
In "Samson et Dalila" Saint-Saëns had made use of representative themes, and although he has done so in a sufficiently discreet fashion, avoiding anything approaching to Wagnerian polyphony, the fact deserves to be noted as affording, perhaps, the first instance in which the system has been rigorously followed by a French composer. There can be no doubt but that the device contributes to a great extent in securing that unity which is so much sought for nowadays in dramatic works. Another point to be noted is the suppression of detached numbers, the opera being divided into scenes that are logically developed.
The instrumentation of "Samson et Dalila" is rich and varied, yet never unduly complicated. Saint-Saëns knows how to distribute his effects with unerring certainty, and his work is a model of orchestral skill. The opera is scored for a very full orchestra, of which it may be interesting to give the composition. In addition to the strings and usual wood wind, he employs a third flute, a _cor anglais_, a bass clarinet, a double bassoon, four horns, two trumpets, two cornets, three trombones, a bass tuba, two ophicleides, two harps, three kettledrums, a _grosse caisse_, cymbals, a triangle, a _glockenspiel_, _crotales_, castagnettes made of wood and iron, a _tambour de basque_, and a tamtam.
These constitute a powerful engine of sound, which is made subservient to the composer's will, and reproduces his thoughts with unimpeachable exactitude.
"Samson et Dalila" perhaps remains the dramatic masterpiece of Saint-Saëns. His other operas may be equally remarkable in point of style and more elaborate in the matter of detail, but they often lack that apparent spontaneity which constitutes not the least charm of the Biblical work, and, although containing much that is admirable, are perhaps less inspired. Saint-Saëns could not write an uninteresting work if he chose, and musicians will find much to admire in his later operas. In "Samson et Dalila" he has succeeded in compelling the admiration of both musicians and the public at large, perhaps for the very reason that when he wrote it he did not attempt to please either, but was content to follow the bent of his inspiration without _arrière pensée_ of any sort.
"Etienne Marcel," the composer's next opera, produced at Lyons in 1879, has not received the amount of attention due to its merits. The defects in this work arise from a certain want of unity, consequent upon the obvious desire of the composer to reconcile the conflicting elements of the old and the new schools. Putting such considerations aside, there can be no doubt as to the general effectiveness of the music. The subject deals with a stirring episode of French history. If in treating it the composer has not discarded the older forms associated with the "grand opéra" style, he has imparted a modern colouring to his score which goes far to redeem any shortcomings in this respect. He has been particularly happy in his treatment of the scenes of popular life that abound in this opera. There is a freshness and an irresistible _entrain_ in the ballet music, which is deliciously scored and abounds in charming details. The presence of a waltz in an opera, the action of which is laid in the fourteenth century, may cause some surprise, but it does not do to be over-particular in such matters, and much may be forgiven when the result is so pleasing.
A few years ago it was quite on the cards that "Etienne Marcel" should be performed at Covent Garden, with Mme. Patti in the principal character. The great _prima donna_ had taken a strong fancy to the music, and expressed a desire to sing it. Unfortunately circumstances occurred which induced the _diva_ to change her mind, and to display her vocalisation in an opera of little musical worth, which has long since disappeared from the _répertoire_.
If would be a thousand pities if an opera containing so much that is excellent should be allowed to suffer perpetual neglect, and it may be hoped that some day we may be afforded the chance of hearing it in England.
The great moment in the dramatic career of Saint-Saëns was now at hand--that psychological moment so long desired and eagerly anticipated by every French aspirant to operatic fame. The doors of the Opera, that _sanctum sanctorum_, was at length to be opened to him. After the comparative failure of such works as Gounod's "Tribut de Zamora," and Ambroise Thomas' "Françoise de Rimini," the prestige of the French school wanted looking after, and some fresh blood was required to renew it. That a composer such as Saint-Saëns should be obliged to go to Weimar and Lyons in order to get played seemed an anomaly, and the author of "Samson et Dalila" was at last, and not too soon, commissioned to write a work for the leading operatic stage of Paris.
Great expectations had been formed concerning the opera that so consummate a musician, and one holding such high artistic notions, would produce. It was held that a composer so well endowed would prove to be the one, _par excellence_, destined to free the French operatic stage from the bondage of "routine," and be the standard-bearer of French progressive art. These anticipations were destined to be only partly realised. Leaving French history for the nonce, Saint-Saëns found in the life of our much-married monarch a subject congenial to his muse, and "Henri VIII." was produced with success in March 1883. If this opera is ever to be performed in England certain alterations will have to be made, as the inclusion of a Scotch ballet danced at Richmond might tend to ridicule.
It must be admitted that if the book of "Henri VIII." is in many senses disappointing, yet it is not devoid of merit, and contains several highly dramatic situations that have been well treated by the musician. The authors, Messrs. Détroyat and Silvestre, have not adhered entirely to Shakespeare. The action takes place at the time when Henry has begun to be struck with the charms of Anne Boleyn, who also has an admirer in Don Gomez, the Spanish ambassador. The divorce of the King from Katharine of Arragon is at hand, and the Pope's Legate having refused to sanction it, the King, amidst the acclamation of the people, proclaims the schism with the Roman Church. The last act is perhaps the best. Anne Boleyn is now Queen, and Katharine, who is dying, has in her possession a compromising letter from Anne to Don Gomez. Henry is devoured by jealousy, and comes, accompanied by Don Gomez, to endeavour to obtain possession of this document. Anne has also come to see if she can regain the letter. This leads to the capital situation in the opera. Henry, in order to excite the jealous and revengeful feelings of Katharine, speaks in the tenderest tones to Anne, whose eyes are fixed upon the note that Katharine has in her hands. At length Katharine, having prayed for strength to resist the temptation, throws the letter in the fire, and falls down dead.
There is no denying the dramatic force of this situation, which has been treated by Saint-Saëns in a masterly manner. The splendid quartet which terminates the work, in which the different emotions of the four characters are depicted in accents as powerful as they are varied, may rank amongst his finest inspirations, and as one of the most stirring scenes in the entire range of modern opera.
An interesting feature in "Henri VIII." is the partial employment of _leit-motiven_. Saint-Saëns, who at one time was looked upon as a disciple of Wagner, has taken pains to dispel this impression. And yet in the first work composed by him for the chief French operatic theatre, he set to work by making use of one of the Bayreuth master's favourite devices. He will probably urge that it is not so much Wagner himself that he has been combating, but the unreasoning enthusiasm of some of his thick-and-thin admirers. This may be so, but the fact remains, that Saint-Saëns has laid himself open to misconception, which might easily have been avoided had he displayed a less militant tendency in his criticisms. At any rate, he has deliberately adopted the system of representative themes in his "Henri VIII.," and if, whilst so doing, he has not abandoned the old operatic set forms, the innovation is a sufficiently important one to note. It is this attempt to reconcile such antagonistic elements that is held by some as constituting a weak point in this remarkable work. "From the beginning," writes a well-known critic, "we see the two forms of the opera and the lyrical drama in juxtaposition, and thus all unity of style is at once broken."
The opinions of Saint-Saëns himself on the subject of dramatic music are interesting, as they explain the spirit of compromise that exists in all his works. "Henri VIII." was considered by some as foreshadowing a new departure in the composer's style. These were doomed to be disappointed, for the works that have succeeded it are not in any way more "advanced." Saint-Saëns has taken the trouble to write and explain his views on the subject, and from these it is highly unlikely that he will now depart. In a letter written to the editor of the _Carillon Théatral_, soon after the performance of his opera "Proserpine," Saint-Saëns expressed himself thus: "My theory of dramatic art is this: I believe the drama is progressing towards a synthesis of different elements, song, declamation, and symphony blending in an equilibrium which leaves the composer free to avail himself of all the resources of art, while it affords the spectator the gratification of every legitimate desire. It is this equilibrium which I seek, and which others will one day find. Both heart and head impel me to pursue this aim, and to this I must adhere. It is for this reason that I am disowned, now by those Wagnerites who despise the melodic style and the art of singing, now by those reactionaries who lay the entire stress on those elements, and consider declamation and symphony as mere accessories."
The above definition of the "musical drama" is rational enough, and I do not see what even the most uncompromising Wagnerite could find to object in it. As to the allusion to "those Wagnerites who despise the melodic style," it would be interesting to know precisely to whom the composer refers. If there exist a few fanatics who imagine that melody can be banished with impunity, they are in absolute disaccord with Wagner himself, who wrote that "the one and only form of music is melody; no music is conceivable without melody, and both are absolutely inseparable." Mons. Imbert, in an article upon Saint-Saëns, has amusingly termed him "le Wagnérien sans le savoir."
The truth of the matter is, that every composer nowadays is actuated by the same desire, namely, to make his music fit the subject he is illustrating as closely as possible. If the method adopted differs in any way, this must be ascribed to a variety of causes, the composer's temperament, his education, his nationality, and others. As to the interpolation of ballets and sundry _hors d'oeuvre_ introduced often apparently without rhyme or reason, that still find their way into operas, it must in justice to the composer be remembered that he has a number of conventionalities to fight against and prejudices to overcome. Every one has not got the prestige of a Wagner, and even he had to fight a fearfully uphill battle, and only reaped the full fruits of his labours at the end of his career.
The taste of the public is little by little coming round to the "lyrical drama" as distinct from the opera, and composers are but following the tendency of the age. The transformation of style that has led Verdi to rise from "Trovatore" to "Otello" is there to attest it.
The next opera--or shall we say "lyrical drama"?--composed by Saint-Saëns was "Proserpine," brought out at the ill-fated Opéra Comique in 1887, the same year during which the theatre was destined to be burned to the ground. Despite its title, this work has nothing in common with mythology. It is taken from an early work by the poet Vacquerie, published some fifty years ago.
The action takes place in Italy during the sixteenth century. Proserpine, a courtesan, is in love with Sabatino, a young nobleman, who is engaged to be married to Angiola, the sister of his friend. After endeavouring vainly to entrap Angiola and her brother, assisted by Squarocca, a bandit, she seeks Sabatino, who is awaiting his bride. When Angiola enters, Proserpine hides behind some drapery. Maddened by jealousy at hearing the lovers interchange protestations of affection, she rushes forward and strikes Angiola with her stiletto. Sabatino then snatches the weapon from her hands and plunges it into her heart.
This story was considered somewhat melodramatic in Paris, and the _dénouement_ has since been somewhat modified. A few alterations have been made in the score, and in its new form "Proserpine" will surely be performed sooner or later. There are some delightful numbers in this opera, which throughout bears the impress of the master's hand. I will especially draw attention to the closing scene of the second act, which is a perfect gem of delicate fancy and exquisite workmanship. The scene represents the interior of a convent, and a number of mendicants enter to receive alms. Their voices are accompanied by a melodic figure which is repeated in various guises until the fall of the curtain, without ever sounding monotonous in any degree, through the consummate art and skilful manipulation with which it is handled.
With his next opera Saint-Saëns returned to the Grand Opéra, where "Ascanio" was produced in 1890. Benvenuto Cellini is the leading character in this work, but the composer discarded the great sculptor's name as his title, probably out of deference to the memory of Berlioz, whose first dramatic attempt bore that name. These scruples did not trouble Mons. Diaz, who curiously enough brought out an opera bearing that title during the same year at the Opéra Comique, where it met with no success. There has always been something of the mystifier in Saint-Saëns. He likes to go his own way, regardless of what may be expected of him or whether he satisfies the partisans of any particular style of music. Mons. Camille Bellaigue remarks that he was not much astonished that this work should have produced a feeling of surprise and even of disappointment. "L'oeuvre," he says, "que peut-être on attendait puissante et grandiose, n'est que touchante parfois, toujours intime et presque familière."
This definition gives so good an idea of the general character of the opera that I do not hesitate to reproduce it here. The plot of "Ascanio" is rather complicated for a "lyrical drama," the numberless episodes that occur detracting from the continuity of the work. Saint-Saëns appears to have composed the music in a remarkably short space of time, less than a year. Those who take the trouble to study this interesting score, which has been aptly termed a musical mosaic, will appreciate the prodigious amount of labour involved. The composer has again employed representative themes, very much after the system he had previously adopted in his "Henri VIII." The score of "Ascanio" is a veritable monument of ingenuity, and if it does not produce an altogether satisfactory impression, the fault may be ascribed rather to the book than to the music.