Masters of French Music Part 1

Masters of French Music.

by Arthur Hervey.

PREFACE

_The reader who turns to these pages with the idea of finding therein a large and exhaustive account of the composers mentioned, with a technical a.n.a.lysis of their works, will, I fear, be disappointed. My intention has been a far more modest one._

_The dimensions of this volume would not have allowed me to devote that amount of s.p.a.ce to each composer that might be considered due to his merits._

_The object I have had in view has been to give an account of their lives and to draw attention to the tendencies exhibited in their works._

_The French can boast a splendid musical record, particularly as regards the opera. Paris was for many years the centre towards which foreign artists were wont to gravitate. It was here that Gluck laid the seeds of his musical reforms; that Cherubini and Spontini lived and brought out their best works; it was the influence of French taste that caused Rossini to forsake the inartistic devices of his earlier Italian operas and write "Guillaume Tell," his masterpiece; it was for Paris that Meyerbeer composed "Robert le Diable," "Les Huguenots," "Le Prophete,"

and "L'Africaine;" that Donizetti wrote the "Favorite," and Verdi, "Don Carlos." It was Paris that Wagner had in his mind when he composed his "Rienzi."_

_Then if we cast a glance at their native composers what treasures of melody, what grace, and what innate dramatic feeling do we not find in the works of Mehul, Boeldieu, Auber, Herold, Adam, Halevy, and others whose operas during the first half of the present century were heard all over Europe._

_Of a different type to the above we meet the t.i.tanic figure of Berlioz, whose influence has been so great over the younger generation of composers and whose orchestral innovations have borne such fruit. In the present volume I am only dealing with living composers, otherwise there are four who occupy prominent places in the records of contemporary music whose names would have been included, Bizet, Lalo, Cesar Franck, and Leo Delibes._

_Bizet, the gifted author of "Carmen," the inspired musician who wrote "L'Arlesienne," s.n.a.t.c.hed away at the very moment when his genius was beginning to meet with recognition. Who knows what he might not have done had he lived! As it is, "Carmen" is probably the most generally popular opera that has been written by a Frenchman since Gounod produced his "Faust," and Bizet was only thirty-seven years of age when he died!_

_Edouard Lalo, whose death occurred last year (1892), had to wait a long time before his merits received the recognition to which they were ent.i.tled. His popularity in France may be said to date from the time when his opera, "Le Roi d'Ys," was first produced at the Opera Comique some five years ago, when the composer had reached his sixtieth year. An opera of his ent.i.tled "Fiesque," composed many years previously, was accepted by one manager after another, but some circ.u.mstance invariably occurred to prevent its being brought out. His ballet "Namouna" contains much that is both charming and original, yet it failed to captivate the public of the Paris Opera when it was produced._

_Amongst his orchestral works are to be found a fine symphony, which I remember hearing at one of the Lamoureux concerts in Paris and which ought to be given here; two Norwegian Rhapsodies, and the "Symphonie Espagnole" for violin and orchestra. The work he will probably be best remembered by is "Le Roi d'Ys." A great admirer of Wagner, Lalo in this opera applies the master's theories in a restricted sense only, and "Le Roi d'Ys" has a greater affinity with "Tannhauser" and "Lohengrin" than with "Tristan" or the "Meistersinger." His chamber compositions and orchestral works reveal a considerable amount of originality and knowledge of effect, allied to consistently elevated notions with regard to the aesthetics of his art. A tendency towards the employment of curious rhythms often imparts a peculiar "cachet" to Lalo's compositions. In all his works he exhibits a complete mastery over orchestral resources, a branch of the art in which French composers as a rule excel._

_The name of Cesar Franck is less known in England. Although a Belgian by birth, he may through his long residence in France be reckoned amongst the composers of that country. His reputation has been steadily on the increase of late, and some of his enthusiastic admirers have not scrupled to call him the "French Bach."_

_Perhaps we may one day have an opportunity of judging works such as "Ruth," "Redemption" and "Les Beat.i.tudes," which last is generally considered as his masterpiece._

_Leo Delibes will be remembered chiefly through his exquisite ballet music, such as "Coppelia" and "Sylvia," full of grace, charm and refinement, never commonplace, and bearing the stamp of a distinct individuality. His operas, "Le Roi l'a dit," "Jean de Nivelle," and "Lakme," do not show his talent off to the same advantage, albeit containing many delightful pages._

_Leo Delibes' music is typically French and is full of that "esprit" so characteristic of our neighbours. A pupil of Adolphe Adam, Delibes seems to have acquired his master's lightness of touch and gift of melody, to which he was able to add a quality of distinction which the composer of "Le Postillon de Lonjumeau" did not possess._

_It is, however, with the living that we are concerned, and, having paid a pa.s.sing tribute to the memory of the above deceased musicians, I will now proceed with my task, once more claiming the indulgence of my readers, and begging them to bear in mind that, whatever defects may be noticeable in these imperfect sketches, I can at least claim that they have been written in perfect good faith._

_ARTHUR HERVEY._

_P.S.--Among the books that I have had occasion to consult I may mention especially Mons. Adolphe Jullien's "Musiciens d'Aujourd'hui," Mons.

Pagnerre's "Charles Gounod," Mlle. de Bovet's "Life of Gounod," Mons.

Hugues Imbert's "Profils de Musiciens," and "Nouveaux Profils de Musiciens."_

_I also take this opportunity of expressing my indebtedness to my friend, Mr. Robin H. Legge, for having been instrumental in procuring for me information of a valuable nature._

_A.H._

_July 1893._

_Note.--Since these sketches were written, the death of Charles Gounod has deprived France of one of her greatest musicians. The composer of "Faust" died on the 18th of October (1893), the anniversary of the first performance of his opera, "La Nonne Sanglante," which was produced in 1854. His loss is one that will be mourned, not by France alone, but by all other nations, and Englishmen will not forget that their country was the birthplace of the "Redemption" and "Mors et Vita."_

_A. H._

AMBROISE THOMAS

It has become a trite saying that music is the youngest of the arts. The truth of this is nevertheless indisputable, and the remark is perhaps more applicable to music as represented in the "lyrical drama" than in any other form. What pleases one generation is often distasteful to the next, and a period of twenty or even ten years has sometimes been sufficient to witness a thorough evolution in the methods and general style of dramatic music.

The career of the composer whose name heads this chapter is, from this point of view, interesting to study, and a cursory glance at the state of musical affairs at the time when he emerged from the Paris Conservatoire, having won the "Grand Prix de Rome," will not be out of place, and may help towards forming a more accurate estimate of his talent.

Every art has traversed a period of degeneration, when true aesthetics have been neglected and men of undoubted talent, or even genius, have been unable to free themselves from the shackles of a vitiated taste.

This applies, perhaps, more to music than to any other art, probably for the reason that in this case the demand upon the intellect is proportionately greater, and a certain degree of culture is absolutely necessary for its due appreciation. There is a semblance of truth in the contention advanced by Rubinstein, that music is the reflex of its time, and even re-echoes the political events and general state of culture of the age. The following paradoxical opinion of the eminent Russian composer and pianist, taken from his "Conversation on Music,"[1] is well worth quoting _in extenso_: "I can follow musically even the events of our century. Our century begins either with 1789, the French Revolution (musically with Beethoven), or the year 1815 is to be looked upon as the close of the eighteenth century, disappearance of Napoleon from the political horizon, the Restoration, &c. (musically the scholastic-virtuoso period: Hummel, Moscheles, and others); flourish of modern philosophy (third period of Beethoven); the July Revolution of 1830, fall of the Legitimists, raising the son of Philippe Egalite to the throne, the Orleans dynasty, democratic and const.i.tutional principle in the foreground, monarchical principle in the background, 1848 in sight (Berlioz); the aeolian harp of the Polish rebellion of 1831 (Chopin); romanticism generally and its victory over the pseudo-cla.s.sic (Schumann); flourish of all the arts and sciences (Mendelssohn); the triumph of the bourgeoisie, in sense of material existence, a shield against all disturbing elements of politics and culture (Capellmeister music); Louis Napoleon becomes Emperor (Liszt, the virtuoso, becomes the composer of symphonies and oratorios); his reign (the operetta a branch of art); the German-Franco war, Germany's unity, the freedom of Europe resting on ten millions of soldiers, change in all formerly accepted political principles (Wagner, his music-drama, his art principles, &c.)."

We are able with a tolerable degree of certainty to determine the period when a house was built by the style of its architecture, just as we experience no difficulty, as a rule, in discovering the date when a picture was painted through details that unmistakably reveal the epoch when the artist lived, even if the subject he may have chosen to ill.u.s.trate be ever so remote. The well-known picture by Paul Veronese of the "Marriage Feast of Cana" is a case in point.

In respect to music, a similar law would appear to govern its manifestations, and special characteristics are a.s.sociated with the productions of different epochs. This is made evident by the non-success that attends the composer whose genius impels him onward towards new and unknown horizons. Woe be to the one who has the temerity to forestall his own generation. Although immortality and a tardy homage to his memory may be his reward, these will perhaps scarcely afford compensation for the trials and hardships endured whilst battling for sheer existence in this vale of tears. It is a moot consideration whether the wisest course to adopt is that followed by Hector Berlioz, or the one that has brought prosperity as well as celebrity to Ambroise Thomas; for whereas the former may result in post-mortem panegyrics, the latter procures a more immediate recompense, and may lead to the directorship of the Paris Conservatoire.

There is something inexpressibly sad in the evanescence of music, and in thinking of the comparatively small number of compositions destined to survive their age. In this respect music is at a decided disadvantage in comparison with the sister arts; the fact of the former being essentially creative possibly accounting in some measure for this. At any rate, whereas masterpieces of cla.s.sic art, such as "The Dying Gladiator" and the "Apollo Belvedere" remain unrivalled and do not betray a vestige of their antiquity, much of the music composed fifty years ago has become so hopelessly old-fashioned that it can scarcely be listened to with patience.

Is it that in this special case familiarity breeds a larger dose of contempt than usual? The fact has been proved over and over again, that compositions that seem absolutely incomprehensible to one generation, are accepted as comparatively simple by the next; whereas those that have caught on with the public at once very soon lose their hold.

The great test of an art work, as such, is its truth of expression. The moment this is wanting, its value diminishes, and it is powerless to survive the caprice of fashion.

Thus we find that those works into which composers have poured their innermost feelings, untrammelled by any desire to purchase an ephemeral popularity at the cost of the sacrifice of principle, are those that have remained. This is so much the case with stage works that it is necessary to state it definitely before proceeding any further.

For years the operatic composer was almost entirely at the mercy of the singer, and it has required many efforts on the part of great artists to shake off the load, the final emanc.i.p.ation being effected through the agency of one whose genius towers far above that of his contemporaries, and whose influence upon music has been as widespread as it has been beneficial. Need I say that I allude to Richard Wagner?

The spirit of routine, so engrained in the human mind, has also much to account for in preventing the development of music as represented in the opera. It is far from my desire to say anything in disparagement of a form of art such as the "opera comique," a _genre_ that has been ill.u.s.trated with so conspicuous a degree of success by composers such as Gretry, Monsigny, Dalayrac, Nicolo, Boieldieu, Herold, and Auber. At the same time, it must be admitted that the ideal aimed at by modern French musicians is altogether a higher one. The "lyrical drama" has usurped the place of the old "opera comique," and those composers whose inability or disinclination have kept them from following the prevalent movement, have perforce drifted into that mongrel species of art known as the "operette." From an aesthetic point of view the change is emphatically for the better, as the "opera comique," corresponding to the German "Singspiel," and to our "ballad opera," and consisting of an amalgam of speech and song, being neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, is utterly inconsistent with logic.

That there is still, however, a place for works coming under the denomination of a modernised form of "opera comique," as distinct from the "operette," without pretensions of too lofty an order, is evidenced by the delightful works of the late Leo Delibes, "Le Roi l'a dit," "Jean de Nivelle," and "Lakme"; and more recently by Mons. Chabrier's "Le Roi Malgre Lui" and Mons. Messager's "La Basoche."

In the year 1832, when Ambroise Thomas had completed his twenty-first birthday, the Rossini fever was at its height. Beethoven was comparatively little known in France, and those amongst his symphonies that had been brought to a hearing had excited more wonder than admiration.

"Il ne faut pas faire de la musique comme celle-la," Lesueur had said to Berlioz after having listened to the C Minor Symphony; "Soyez tranquille, cher maitre, on n'en fera pas beaucoup," had been the answer vouchsafed by the future author of "La d.a.m.nation de Faust." In the meanwhile Boieldieu never lost the opportunity of playing through Rossini's operas to his pupils, and descanting upon their merits. It is indeed difficult to account for the extraordinary influence exercised by Rossini over his contemporaries. That his "facile" melodies should have proved agreeable to the general public, and his florid ornamentations grateful to the singers, "pa.s.se encore." But that an entire generation of composers should have been so fascinated by the sham glitter of his brilliant though shallow compositions as to follow his methods in so faithful a manner, is incomprehensible. It is eminently to the credit of French taste that "Guillaume Tell," his only really great work of serious import, should have been written for the Paris Grand Opera.

Entirely devoid of artistic conscience or of any of those lofty aspirations towards the ideal that stamp the true artist, be his name Bach or Beethoven, Schubert or Schumann, Berlioz or Wagner, Rossini deliberately squandered his genius. Success seems to have been his only object, and this once acquired he was content to idle away the remainder of a long existence, sublimely unconscious of the great musical upheaval that was being accomplished by genuine workers in the cause of art.

What can we think of a composer who could employ the same overture to precede operas so widely different in regard to their subject-matter as "Elisabetta, Regina d'Inghilterra" and "Il Barbiere"? What of the musician who thought that a brilliant martial strain was the right musical interpretation of the sublime and poignant words expressive of Mary at the foot of the Cross? "Cujus animam gementem, contristantem et dolentem"; words of indescribable sadness and depth; a mother mourning her Divine Son; a theme unexampled in point of pathos and emotion, set to a melody that would be in its proper place in some pageant descriptive of the triumphal entry of a conqueror into a city!

What, again, of the composer who could prefix a tragedy like "Oth.e.l.lo"

with an overture fit for an "opera bouffe?" And what would be said nowadays of the musician who, finding himself short of an idea, pilfered that of another composer, as Rossini did in "Il Barbiere," the trio in the last act of which being palpably taken from Haydn's "Seasons"? The greater a man's genius--and no one would dream of denying this attribute to Rossini--the greater his responsibility. _n.o.blesse oblige._ In order that I may not be accused of formulating too harsh a judgment upon the Italian master, I will quote the following words of Blaze de Bury, his friend and admirer: "Avec du genie et les circonstances, on fait les Rossini; pour etre Mozart ou Raphael, Michel Ange ou Beethoven, il faut avoir quelque chose de plus: des principes."

What has been termed the "golden epoch" of the "grand opera" was at this time at its _apogee_, and the period often years from 1828 to 1838 witnessed the production upon the same boards of Auber's "La Muette de Portici," known here as "Masaniello," Rossini's "Guillaume Tell,"

Halevy's "La Juive," and Meyerbeer's "Robert le Diable" and "Les Huguenots."