Part 9

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.