Part 8
A curious incident in connection with the first performance of this opera was that the composer, doubtless anxious to seek perfect rest after his prolonged labours, and desirous of avoiding the fatigues consequent upon attending its production, took himself away and carefully omitted to leave his address behind. Weeks elapsed, and no news of him was forthcoming. Fanciful stories were concocted of how he had met with foul play. Telegrams were dispatched all the world over, with the result that he was authoritatively declared to have been seen in at least a dozen different places several hundred miles away one from the other. Finally, he was discovered, quite by chance, under an assumed name in the Canary Islands. A visitor staying in the same hotel, hearing some one playing the piano in a manner the reverse of amateurish, and having that morning read about the mysterious disappearance in the French papers, had the curiosity to go down and verify the suspicions that had occurred to him. He had no difficulty in identifying the composer, and in a very short time the news had spread all over the place. Saint-Saëns then had to pay the penalty of being a celebrity. He wrote thus to Mons. Louis Gallet, his friend and collaborator: "For the last three days, since I have been recognised, I lead an insupportable life. I do not have a moment to myself. I am scribbling you these lines whilst talking. If there is no common sense in what I say, do not be surprised."
The last dramatic work produced by Saint-Saëns is "Phryné," a two-act comic opera, given at the Opéra Comique in the month of May of the present year (1893).
It might have been hoped that a composer such as Saint-Saëns would have thought fit to devote his great gifts to the elaboration of a "musical comedy" that might have ranked side by side with Wagner's "Meistersinger" and Verdi's' "Falstaff." Not one of his countrymen is better qualified than he is for such a task. Perhaps he may undertake it later on. At any rate, he has not attempted anything of the kind in "Phryné," which is modelled upon an old pattern, includes spoken dialogue, and consists of a number of detached pieces, following the conventional practice associated with the Opéra Comique.
In writing this graceful score Saint-Saëns has evidently aimed at simplicity. There are some charming numbers of a melodious nature in this little work, which also displays the composer's capacity of dealing with humorous situations to great advantage. Perhaps the best portion is the "Invocation to Venus," in which the means employed are of the simplest, whilst the results are eminently poetical and effective. "Phryné" has proved very successful in Paris. The title part has been interpreted by Miss Sybil Sanderson, whom the composer has gratified with a liberal allowance of _roulades_ and other vocal acrobatics.
It now remains for me to allude to some of the other compositions of Saint-Saëns in various lines--and what line has he not attempted? That one who has achieved so great a reputation as an organist should also have distinguished himself as a composer of sacred music stands to reason. One of his most representative works of this kind is his oratorio "Le Déluge," which exhibits the peculiar characteristics of his style to an almost equal degree as "Samson et Dalila." Every one knows, or ought to know, the beautiful Prelude with the lovely violin solo, the commencement of which is suggestive of Bach, whilst the end is reminiscent of Gounod. I must also mention his noble "Requiem" and fine setting of the psalm "Coeli enarrant." The "Oratorio de Noël" is an early work, but contains several charming pages.
To analyse in detail all the compositions of this indefatigable worker would take up a volume in itself. I must therefore be content with the bare mention of songs full of originality, such as the "Mélodies Persanes," pianoforte music like the "Menuet et Valse," "Six études," and the three Mazourkas; violin music such as the three Concertos, the "Introduction et Rondo Capriccioso" so often played by Señor Sarasate, the Sonata, op. 75, for the same instrument; and violoncello music such as the characteristic "Suite," the admirable Sonata, op. 32, and the Concerto, which is a favourite with all 'cellists. Neither must I omit the masterly variations for two pianos on a theme of Beethoven, or the splendid pianoforte transcriptions from Bach. Several of these works may almost be said to rank as classics. Two important compositions remain to be noted, both of which were produced for the first time in England. The first of these is the picturesque cantata "La Lyre et la Harpe," composed for the Birmingham Festival of 1879; and the second is the Symphony in C Minor, first produced by the Philharmonic Society in 1885. It seems strange indeed that a work so remarkable in every way as the last should not be given oftener. Saint-Saëns has not here written a symphony upon the usual model, but has endeavoured to produce something entirely unconventional, whilst keeping within certain limits, that enabled him to claim the title of symphony for a work which, although possessing many of the characteristics of the _genre_, yet in the matter of form differs much from the compositions of recognised masters. If the influence of Beethoven is not absent, neither is that of Liszt, and there is as much if not more of the "symphonic poem" in a work, that is unique in its way, than of the symphony proper. A curious detail to note is that in this work the organ and piano are added to the usual orchestra.
Saint-Saëns is a very quick worker. The rapidity with which he is able to conceive and transcribe a work of large proportions is all the more remarkable for the reason that his writing never exhibits the slightest sign of that carelessness often engendered by undue haste. The following extract from Mons. Hugues Imbert's "Profils de Musiciens" will give an idea of this: "With Saint-Saëns the conception is rapid; he writes without pause or hesitation (_d'un seul jet_). Once the idea is chosen and defined, he immediately realises the development. He orchestrates with the greatest ease, whilst conversing, and almost without making any corrections. Scarcely does he find it necessary to have recourse to the piano in order to aid his inspiration. His opera 'Proserpine' was composed at Chaville, without the aid of any instrument. He writes a score or a symphony as he would pen a letter or an article, or as he would solve a problem. A number of instances are cited concerning his prodigious facility of creation; we will only recall the following: A few years ago he had promised to write an _opérette revue_ for the Cercle Volney, of which he is a member. A few days before the performance nothing had as yet arrived. Upon inquiry from Saint-Saëns himself it was discovered that he had totally forgotten his promise. 'But,' said he, 'the evil can be repaired;' and in the space of two hours he wrote off twenty-one pages of full score."
Some critics have found the music of Saint-Saëns devoid of feeling, cold and passionless. How it is possible to come to this conclusion after hearing pages such as the famous love duet in "Samson et Dalila," or the quartet in "Henri VIII.," it is difficult to understand.
And yet Mons. Arthur Pougin, the well-known critic, has not scrupled to pass the following judgment on Saint-Saëns in his article upon the composer, included in the Supplement to Fétis's "Biographie des Musiciens": "Le tempérament musical de Mons. Saint-Saëns est sec, nerveux, absolument dépourvu de tendresse, de sentiment et de passion." After this it again becomes evident that a great man is not necessarily a prophet in his own country. When he penned the above lines Mons. Arthur Pougin was presumably unacquainted with "Samson et Dalila."
In the course of this incomplete sketch of one of the most remarkable artists of his time I have alluded to his polemics as a critic. A few years since, he collected some of his writings together, and published them in a volume entitled "Harmonie et Mélodie." In this book will be found various criticisms, many of which are as just as they are well expressed, but it is to be regretted that the author should occasionally have thought fit to mix up so-called "patriotic ideas" with his musical opinions.
For many years Saint-Saëns used to be considered one of the ardent champions of Wagner. The moment, though, that the Bayreuth master's music seemed to obtain a firm hold upon the French public, through the medium of the weekly concerts given by Messrs. Lamoureux and Colonne, the French composer's zeal appeared to cool down, and the enthusiast gave way to the critic. Any one is of course entitled to air his opinions, and no one more so than a composer of such eminence as Saint-Saëns. The mistake was that he chose the wrong moment to publish his views, and thereby stirred up a controversy which would best have been avoided.
In 1879 he recorded his impressions of the "Ring des Nibelungen" in a series of remarkable articles that are reproduced in the volume above mentioned. His opinion of this colossal work was summed up in these words: "From the height of the last act of the 'Götterdämmer[)u]ng,' the entire work appears, in its almost supernatural immensity, like the chain of the Alps seen from the summit of Mont Blanc."
He terminates the preface of "Harmonie et Mélodie" by these words: "I admire the works of Richard Wagner profoundly, in spite of their eccentricities (_en dépit de leur bizarrerie_). They are superior and powerful, which suffices for me. But I have never belonged, I do not belong, and I never shall belong, to the Wagnerian religion!"
This being the case, I am unable to see why the composer of "Henri VIII." should have taken so much pains to qualify his opinions. He admires Wagner, and it certainly would be odd if a composer of his value did not; but he is anxious to avoid being comprised amongst those fanatics, whose admiration of Wagner prevents their acknowledging the greatness of any other composer.
It may here be noted that when the publisher Flaxland acquired the French copyright of "Lohengrin," the translation was at the author's request submitted to Saint-Saëns, who wrote, in the newspaper _La France_, that when "Lohengrin" was about to be produced in Paris, he, at the desire of the publisher and M. Charles Nuitter the translator, revised the French version and refused to participate in the _droits d'auteurs_.
Amongst his many gifts Saint-Saëns possesses that of the poet, and has proved his capability of writing charming verses. I will quote the following satirical lines written by him after the production of Bizet's "Djamileh," the delightful little one-act work which has recently been revived with success on various operatic boards, the merits of which were totally unrecognised by the Parisians in 1872:
"'_Djamileh,' fille et fleur de l'Orient sacré, D'une étrange guzla faisant vibrer la corde, Chante, en s'accompagnant sur l'instrument nacré, L'amour extravagant dont son âme déborde._
_Le bourgeois ruminant dans sa stalle serré, Ventru, laid, à regret séparé de sa horde, Entr'ouvre un oeil vitreux, mange un bonbon sucré, Puis se rendort, croyant que l'orchestre s'accorde._
_Elle, dans les parfums de rose et de santal, Poursuit son rêve d'or, d'azur et de crystal, Dédaigneuse à jamais de la foule hébétée. Et l'on voit, au travers des mauresques arceaux, Ses cheveux dénoués tombant en noirs ruisseaux, S'éloigner la Houri, perle, aux pourceaux jetée._"
He has lately published a little volume of poems which he has entitled "Rimes Familières," from which I have extracted the lines addressed to Mme. Viardot.
There is a great fund of humour in Saint-Saëns. This has shown itself in many of his works, and occasionally he has given full rein to his fanciful imagination by writing a burlesque set of pieces entitled "Le Carnaval des Animaux," and another time by composing a parody of Italian opera, which he called "Gabriella di Vergy." Is there not a vein of grim humour in the "Danse Macabre"?
It is related that he once took part in an amateur performance of Offenbach's "Belle Hélène," and interpreted the character of Calchas! A detail to note: the composer of "Samson et Dalila" is still known as "ce jeune maître," although his birthday belongs to the year 1835. It is more than probable that he will keep this title to the end.
Camille Saint-Saëns has retained all his freshness of inspiration, and there is no knowing into what paths his fancy may lead him. But whether he elects to add to the number of his symphonic poems, to produce some fresh example of chamber music, or to elaborate the score of a "lyrical drama," he may rest assured that his doings will be followed with deep attention on the part of all who take interest in music.
JULES MASSENET
In the year 1842 there lived near St. Etienne, in the department of the Loire, an ironmaster of the name of Massenet, an ex-superior officer of engineers, who had been twice married, and both of whose unions had been blessed in a manner apparently rare in France. In the year in question yet one more offspring was destined to be added to the already crowded quiverful. This child, who was named Jules, was the future composer of "Manon" and "Werther." It is needless to state that, alike to all great musicians, Massenet gave evidence of talent at an early age, to the extent that he was sent to the Conservatoire, where he rapidly distinguished himself.
His family, who at that time resided in Paris, were, however, obliged, on account of his father's health, to leave the capital. It appears that young Massenet, tormented by the desire to resume studies that had been so brilliantly begun, thereupon made up his mind to quit the paternal roof, which was then situated in the town of Chambéry, in Savoy, and one day, without saying a word to any one, he undertook to walk all the way to Lyons. How he ever got there it is difficult to say, for he had apparently neglected to provide himself with ready cash, doubtless deeming this a superfluity and a needless encumbrance. Trifles such as these sit lightly on a mind of fourteen, and young Massenet succeeded somehow or other in reaching the great manufacturing centre; where he discovered the abode of a relative, and presented himself, tired and hungry, to his astonished gaze. Having explained the cause of his sudden appearance, the young truant was forthwith expedited back to his parents, who, seeing that it was useless to combat so decided a vocation, made up their minds to send him to Paris in order that he might continue his studies. Unfortunately, it is impossible to live upon air, and during the time when he was mastering the principles of his art the young neophyte was obliged to look for some occupation that would help him to keep body and soul together. This he was fortunate enough to find at the Théâtre Lyrique, where he obtained the privilege of presiding over the kettledrums at a salary of 65 francs a month. It was not precisely riches, but it sufficed to keep the wolf from the door. For six years did Massenet have the opportunity of venting the superfluity of his energies by striking the drums. In the meanwhile he was not idle, and the first prize for piano as well as the first prize for fugue were both successfully awarded to him. Finally, at the age of twenty-one he reached the goal of his ambition, obtained the "Grand Prix de Rome" through a cantata entitled "Rizzio," and departed for the Eternal City, where he remained for two years.
Massenet has himself recorded his impressions of Rome in some interesting autobiographical notes published recently in the _Century_.
"It was at Rome," he says, "that I began to live; there it was that during my happy walks with my comrades, painters or sculptors, and in our talks under the Villa Borghese or under the pines of the Villa Pamphili, I felt my first stirrings of admiration for Nature and for Art. What charming hours we spent in wandering through the museums of Naples and Florence! What tender, thoughtful emotions we felt in the dusky churches of Siena and Assisi! How thoroughly forgotten was Paris with its rushing crowds! Now I had ceased to be merely a musician; now I was much more than a musician. This ardour, this healthful fever still sustains me, for we musicians, like poets, must be the interpreters of true emotions. To feel, to make others feel--therein lies the whole secret."
It is natural that with recollections such as these Massenet should consider a sojourn in Rome to be fraught with great advantage to young musicians. He believes that a residence there "may give birth to poets and artists, and may awaken sentiments that otherwise might remain unknown to those in whom they lie dormant."
It was at the close of the year 1865 that he left Rome, and shortly after, a one-act comic opera from his pen, entitled "La Grande Tante," was produced at the Opéra Comique, according to the regulations, which prescribe that every winner of the "Prix de Rome" should have a one-act work played at this theatre. Massenet's hour had not yet arrived. His "Poème d'Avril," one of his most delicate inspirations, had been refused by a publisher, and he found himself obliged to earn his livelihood by giving lessons.
In 1869 he took part in the competition for the composition of an opera upon a libretto entitled "La Coupe du Roi de Thulé,"[25] but without success, the prize being awarded to Mons. Diaz,[26] whose work was subsequently brought out at the Opéra without creating any great sensation. This shows the value from an artistic point of view of these competitions.
The Franco-German war came to interrupt Massenet in his labours, and like a good patriot he served his country on the ramparts of Paris.
After matters had settled down he was able to again set to work. His next operatic venture was "Don César de Bazan," played at the Opéra Comique in 1872, concerning which it is not necessary to say much. A piquant little _entr'acte_ has survived, and is occasionally heard at concerts. A more important work was the music he composed to Leconte de Lisle's drama, "Les Erinnyes," which still ranks amongst his most remarkable productions.
Massenet has been most successful in imparting a sort of antique colouring to his score. A selection of the music has found its way into the concert-room, and was heard at the Crystal Palace under the composer's direction some years ago. The best numbers are the beautiful invocation of Electra and the characteristic dances.
The turning-point in the composer's career was at hand. He had written a sort of oratorio entitled "Marie Magdeleine," and having shown the score to Mme. Viardot, this great artist, who had been instrumental in furthering Gounod's _début_ as an operatic composer, was much struck by its merit, and determined to have it produced and sing in it herself. "Marie Magdeleine" was accordingly performed at the Odéon in 1873, and created a great stir in musical circles. This delicate and refined score reveals many of the special characteristics well known to those who admire the composer's music. It is very different from what we understand in England as an oratorio. The sensuous vein of melody and the sickly sentimentality which Massenet so often mistakes for true feeling are noticeable in many of its pages. "Marie Magdeleine" was just the sort of work to please a French audience of twenty years ago, whose acquaintance with Berlioz and Wagner was limited, and whose ideal was bounded by Gounod. It was the Bible doctored up in a manner suitable to the taste of impressionable Parisian ladies--utterly inadequate for the theme, at the same time very charming and effective. These words apply equally to "Eve," a work of the same nature that was produced two years later with equal success.
It is but right to say that Massenet has not employed the title of "oratorio" for either of the above works. "Marie Magdeleine" is styled a sacred drama, and "Eve" a _mystère_. Concerning the first of these Mons. Arthur Pougin informs us that Massenet had not intended to adopt "the broad, noble, and pompous style of the oratorio. Painter and poet, he had endeavoured in this new and long-thought-out work, to introduce _rêverie_ and description; he further employed the accents of a veritably human passion, of a tenderness in some way terrestrial, which might have given rise to criticism had he let it be imagined that he intended to follow on the traces of Handel, Bach, or Mendelssohn."
The feminine nature of Massenet's talent has often led him to choose frail members of the fair sex as heroines of his works, such as Mary Magdalen, Eve, Herodias, and Manon. He lacks depth of thought and strength to grapple successfully with Biblical subjects, and the absence of these is not atoned for by an artificiality of expression, and the too frequent employment of affected mannerisms. At the same time, there is a distinct element of poetry noticeable in all his works, and a peculiar sensuous charm is prominent in most of his compositions. These qualities are not to be despised. To them are to be added a richly-coloured and varied instrumentation, and an always interesting and often original harmonic treatment. Massenet's name was now well known to concert-goers, and was shortly to become so to that larger section of the community, the theatre-going public, through the production of his opera "Le Roi de Lahore." Previous to discussing the value of this work it will be well to mention the orchestral suites composed by him at different times, some of which occupy a permanent place in concert _répertoires_. Of these the most popular is entitled "Scènes Pittoresques," a set of four short movements, simple in structure, melodious, and well scored. There is not much in them, but although the material is scanty the workmanship is extremely clever, and the general effect decidedly pleasing. The "Scènes Dramatiques," after Shakespeare, the "Scènes Hongroises," and the "Scènes Alsaciennes" are interesting and replete with imagination and fancy.
Perhaps the most remarkable of the composer's purely instrumental works is the overture to Racine's "Phèdre," a composition full of passion and feeling, well worked out and admirably orchestrated, which is fully entitled to rank amongst the best modern concert overtures. It is to be regretted that the composer has not produced more works of the same kind. There is a virility of accent and an avoidance of specific mannerisms that may often be sought for in vain in his other compositions.
"Le Roi de Lahore," produced at the Opéra in 1877, obtained a great success, partly, perhaps, owing to the magnificence of the mounting, but also, it must be said, on account of the intrinsic value of the music. A spectacular opera in the fullest sense of the word, "Le Roi de Lahore" was a work eminently suited to a theatre such as the Grand Opéra, where the ballet, _mise-en-scène_, and other accessories rank on an equal footing with the music. It was produced on a grand scale, the ballet act, taking place in the Paradise of Indra, forming one of the most gorgeous spectacles possible.