CHAPTER VIII.

ROSSINI'S REPRODUCTIONS FROM HIMSELF.

"La Cenerentola" belongs to the composite order of operatic architecture. But no canon has been set against self-robbery; and Rossini, who never professed any theory on the subject of dramatic expression in music, had the right to take a piece from one of his works which had failed, or which seemed already to have had its day, to place it in another which was just about to appear. This was his constant practice, and its justification is to be found in its success.

Of course Rossini had a system, and of course music _does_ possess dramatic expression, up to a certain point. Figaro's air could not have been introduced into the trio of "Guillaume Tell;" the "Non piu mesta" of "Cenerentola" would not have seemed appropriate as the theme of the prayer in "Mosè."

And it is to be noticed, moreover, that when Rossini made his own adaptations from himself, he was always successful, whereas other composers, who have manufactured pasticcios with motives borrowed from Rossini, have always failed. "Robert Bruce," arranged by M. Carafa, with Rossini's sanction, but not under Rossini's superintendence, made no impression, and we have seen that Rossini quite mistrusted a M. Berettoni, who had constructed an opera called "Un Curioso Accidente," from pieces contained in the composer's early works.[22] This is not the place in which to speak of the shameful adaptations of Rossini's works produced in England, into which airs by nameless composers were introduced, and which were prefaced by absurd _pots pourris_ called overtures, the work of the "conductor and composer" of the music attached to the theatre where Rossini was thus presented. The rule in regard to _pasticcio_-making is clear. It may be undertaken by the composer of the airs employed, but by no one else.

Rossini is by no means the only composer who has transferred themes (seldom pieces in their complete form) from one to another of his works. According to M. Blaze de Bury,[23] Meyerbeer laid some of his early operas under contribution for "Dinorah," which, perhaps for that reason, is so remarkably full of fresh spontaneous melody.

Auber enriched his "Fra Diavolo" in a similar manner, when he prepared it for the Italian stage. In the "Muette de Portici," again, the prayer is borrowed from a mass, the _barcarolle_ from "Emma," the overture from "Le Maçon."

Even Gluck, the favourite composer of those who maintain not only that music should render the character of a dramatic situation, but that it can and ought to reflect the meaning of particular phrases,--even Gluck, in arranging his works for the French stage, turned constantly for musical material to the works of his early days.

Persons who are of opinion that Rossini's "Stabat Mater" is written in the operatic style, and that the airs of Handel's oratorios are not in the operatic style, may be interested to hear that "Lord, remember David," was originally composed for the opera of "Sosarme," where it is set to the words "Rendi l'Sereno al Ciglio," and that "Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty," first appears in the opera of "Rodelinda," as "Dove sei amato bene."

That these changes have been made with success proves that there is no such thing as definite expression in music. The music of an impassioned love song may be adapted to the words of a prayer, and will only seem inappropriate to those who may chance to remember the words to which it was originally composed. A positive feeling of joy or of grief, of exultation or of depression, of liveliness or of solemnity, can be expressed by musical means, without the assistance of words, but not mixed feelings, into which several shades of sentiment enter. At least not with definiteness; though, once indicated by the words, they will obtain from music the most admirable colours, which will even appear to have been invented expressly and solely for them.

Rossini did not go back to the operas of his youth for motives, pieces and overtures merely, as is sometimes supposed, to save himself trouble, though in one or two exceptional cases, when much pressed for time, he may have done something of the kind; but his principle was, when he had once produced a really good piece, not to let it be lost--not to let it perish through the fault of an intolerable libretto.

A libretto is sometimes so bad that the best music in the world will not carry it off: in vain the composer gives it wings, it will _not_ fly. In such a case as that, it was Rossini's practice to disunite his living music from the dead body of the drama to which it had been attached, and to present it again to the public in what he thought would prove a happier alliance. If, again, the union was a failure, he had no hesitation in marrying his music to more or less immortal verse for the third time. The third time the result was invariably happy; witness the air, "Miei Rampolli," which was tried first in "La Pietra del Paragone," and secondly in "La Gazzetta," before it at last found its proper place in "La Cenerentola;" and two of the finest pieces in the "Barber of Seville," the overture which had previously belonged in succession to "Aureliano in Palmira" and "Elisabetta;" and _Almaviva's_ air, "Ecco ridente il Cielo," a treasure saved from the wreck of "Aureliano in Palmira," and which had before been picked out of the ruins of "Ciro in Babilonia."

If Rossini had only pursued his laudable system half way, neither the overture to the "Barber" nor the Count's _cavatina_ would now have been heard; and his happiest, if not his greatest, work would have lost two of its most brilliant ornaments.

It must be observed that Rossini had never the slightest idea of allowing the same piece to belong to two different operas. "I get enraged," he once said, speaking of the publication of his complete works, "when I think of that edition which contains every opera I have composed. The public will often find the same piece in different works, for I thought I had a right to take those which seemed to me the best from the operas which had failed, and place them in the new ones that I was composing. When an opera was hissed, I looked upon it as utterly dead, and now I find everything brought to life again."[24]

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The libretto of "Cenerentola" is an adaptation from Etienne's "Cendrillon." Rossini composed the opera for the Teatro Valle, at Rome, where it was produced on the 26th December, 1817, nearly one year after the "Barber," a few months after "Otello" (winter season of 1816), and a few months before "La Gazza Ladra" (spring season of 1817). From the winter of 1815 to the spring of 1816, Rossini produced six operas, including the four masterpieces just named. The two minor works were "Torvaldo e Dorliska," and "La Gazzetta." "La Cenerentola" was not quite so successful as "Il Barbiere," and no wonder, for though crammed full of beautiful music, it is not all of one piece like its predecessor at Rome, to which, moreover, "Cinderella" is very inferior in dramatic movement, and as a play generally.

The "Barber," too, lends itself more readily to that perfect execution which it has so often attained.

It contains five excellent parts, each essentially necessary to the intrigue, and only one inferior character, who only appears for a few minutes during a necessary pause in the action, to sing a very pretty air. In regard to the two heroines, _Rosina_ is certainly the most attractive, though _Cinderella_ ought to be (but somehow is not) more sympathetic.

Indeed, as a purely theatrical part, a part for stage display, that of _Rosina_ is quite unrivalled, and none is better adapted for the re-appearance of a favourite singer coming back to the scene of previous triumphs. _Rosina_ makes her first entry on the balcony, as if only to receive the applause and congratulations of the public on her return. She has then to make a second entry, to sing a beautiful and very effective cavatina, and finally she has an admirable opportunity for gratifying the audience in the scene of the music lesson, by introducing some air which she knows, for national or sentimental reasons, or both, to be particularly agreeable to them.

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_Cenerentola_, however, is far from being an insignificant heroine, and Madame Giorgi-Righetti sang the music admirably, as a year before she had sung that of _Rosina_. She was especially applauded for her brilliant delivery of the final rondo, "Non piu mesta." This was the fourth and last time that Rossini concluded an opera with an air of display for the _prima donna_. It seemed to him, no doubt, that the device had now been sufficiently employed--which, however, did not force his successors to be of the same opinion.

As to the borrowed pieces in "Cenerentola," the history of the air "Miei Rampolli" has been already traced through two operas. It belonged originally to "La Pietra del Paragone," together with the duet "Un Soave non so che," the drinking chorus, and the burlesque proclamation of the Baron. The sestet, the stretta of the finale, the duet "Zitto, Zitto," were taken from "Il Turco in Italia."

"Cenerentola" was the last of the great _prima donna_ parts which Rossini composed for the contralto voice. He wrote nothing more, then, either for Madame Giorgi-Righetti, or for Madame Marcolini, the original _Tancredi_.

"La Cenerentola" seems to have been intended as a pendent to "Il Barbiere," and at one time almost rivalled that work in popularity. Sontag, Malibran, Alboni, have appeared with brilliant success in the part of the heroine, which, like those of _Rosina_ and _Isabella_, has often been sung by sopranos since the general dethronement of the contralto by the soprano voice in principal characters. But of late years this opera has seldom been played, and in England not since Madame Alboni's last series of performances at Her Majesty's Theatre.