{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_3770/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_3770","id":"gutenberg_3770","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3770","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Music","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Opera","Operas -- Stories, plots, etc."],"text":"Produced by Charles Franks, Robert Rowe and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team. HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nA SECOND BOOK OF OPERAS\n\n\nby\n\nHenry Edward Krehbiel\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS AND INDEX\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nBIBLICAL OPERAS\n\nEngland and the Lord Chamberlain's censorship, et Gounod's \"Reine de\nSaba,\" The transmigrations of \"Un Ballo in Maschera,\" How composers\nrevamp their music, et seq,--Handel and Keiser, Mozart and Bertati,\nBeethoven's readaptations of his own works, Rossini and his \"Barber of\nSeville,\" Verdi's \"Nebuchadnezzar,\" Rossini's \"Moses,\" \"Samson et\nDalila,\" Goldmark's \"Konigin von Saba,\" The Biblical operas of\nRubinstein, Mehul's \"Joseph,\" Mendelssohn's \"Elijah\" in dramatic form,\nOratorios and Lenten operas in Italy, Carissimi and Peri, Scarlatti's\noratorios, Scenery and costumes in oratorios, The passage of the Red\nSea and \"Dal tuo stellato,\" Nerves wrecked by beautiful music, \"Peter\nthe Hermit\" and refractory mimic troops, \"Mi manca la voce\" and\noperatic amenities, Operatic prayers and ballets, Goethe's criticism of\nRossini's \"Mose,\"\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nBIBLE STORIES IN OPERA AND ORATORIO\n\nDr. Chrysander's theory of the undramatic nature of the Hebrew, his\nliterature, and his life, Hebrew history and Greek mythology, Some\nparallels, Old Testament subjects: Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, The\n\"Kain\" of Bulthaupt and d'Albert, \"Tote Augen,\" Noah and the Deluge,\nAbraham, The Exodus, Mehal's \"Joseph,\" Potiphar's wife and Richard\nStrauss, Raimondi's contrapuntal trilogy, Nebuchadnezzar, Judas\nMaccabaeus, Jephtha and his Daughter, Judith, Esther, Athalia,\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nRUBINSTEIN AND HIS \"GEISTLICHE OPER\"\n\nAnton Rubinstein and his ideals, An ambition to emulate Wagner, \"The\nTower of Babel,\" The composer's theories and strivings, et seq.--Dean\nStanley, \"Die Makkabaer,\" \"Sulamith,\" \"Christus,\" \"Das verlorene\nParadies,\" \"Moses,\" Action and stage directions, New Testament stories\nin opera, The Prodigal Son, Legendary material and the story of the\nNativity, Christ dramas, Hebbel and Wagner, \"Parsifal,\"\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\"SAMSON ET DALILA\"\n\nThe predecessors of M. Saint-Saens, Voltaire and Rameau, Duprez and\nJoachim Raff, History of Saint-Saens's opera, et seq.--Henri Regnault,\nFirst performances, As oratorio and opera in New York, An inquiry into\nthe story of Samson, Samson and Herakles, The Hebrew hero in legend, A\ntrue type for tragedy, Mythological interpretations, Saint-Saens's\nopera described, et seq.--A choral prologue, Local color, The character\nof Dalila, et seq.--Milton on her wifehood and patriotism, \"Printemps\nqui commence,\" \"Mon coeur s'ouvre a ta voix,\" Oriental ballet music,\nThe catastrophe,\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n\"DIE KONIGIN VON SABA\"\n\nMeritoriousness of the book of Goldmark's opera, Its slight connection\nwith Biblical story, Contents of the drama et seq.--Parallelism with\nWagner's \"Tannhauser,\" First performance in New York, Oriental luxury\nin scenic outfit, Goldmark's music,\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n\"HERODIADE\"\n\nModern opera and ancient courtesans, Transformed morals in Massenet's\nopera, A sea-change in England, Who and what was Salome? Plot of the\nopera, Scenic and musical adornments, Performances in New York,\n(footnote).\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\n\"LAKME\"\n\nStory of the opera, et seq.--The \"Bell Song,\" Some unnecessary English\nladies, First performance in New York, American history of the opera,\nMadame Patti, Miss Van Zandt Madame Sembrich Madame Tetrazzini,\nCriticism of the drama, The music,\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\n\"PAGLIACCI\"\n\nThe twin operas, \"Cavalleria Rusticana\" and \"Pagliacci,\" Widespread\ninfluence of Mascagni's opera, It inspires an ambition in Leoncavallo,\nHistory of his opera, A tragic ending taken from real life, et\nseq.--Controversy between Leoncavallo and Catulle Mendes, et seq.--\"La\nFemme de Tabarin,\" \"Tabarin\" operas, The \"Drama Nuevo\" of Estebanez and\nMr. Howells's \"Yorick's Love,\" What is a Pagliaccio? First performances\nof the opera in Milan and New York, The prologue, et seq.--The opera\ndescribed, et seq.--Bagpipes and vesper bells, Harlequin's serenade,\nThe Minuet, The Gavotte, \"Plaudite, amici, la commedia finita est!\"\nPhilip Hale on who should speak the final words,\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\n\"CAVALLERIA RUSTICANA\"\n\nHow Mascagni's opera impressed the author when it was new, Attic\ntragedy and Attic decorum, The loathsome operatic brood which it\nspawned, Not matched by the composer or his imitators since, Mascagni's\naccount of how it came to be written, et seq.--Verga's story, et\nseq.--Story and libretto compared, The Siciliano, The Easter hymn,\nAnalysis of the opera, et seq.--The prelude, Lola's stornello, The\nintermezzo, \"They have killed Neighbor Turiddu!\"\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE CAREER OF MASCAGNI\n\nInfluence of \"Cavalleria Rusticana\" on operatic composition,\n\"Santuzza,\" a German sequel, Cilea's \"Tilda,\" Giordano's \"Mala Vita,\"\nTasca's \"A Santa Lucia,\" Mascagni's history, et seq.--Composes\nSchiller's \"Hymn to Joy,\" \"Il Filanda,\" \"Ratcliff,\" \"L'Amico Fritz,\" \"I\nRantzau,\" \"Silvano,\" \"Zanetto,\" \"Le Maschere,\" \"Vistillia,\" \"Arnica,\"\nMascagni's American visit,\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\n\"IRIS\"\n\nThe song of the sun, Allegory and drama, Story of the opera, et\nseq.--The music, et seq.--Turbid orchestration, Local color, Borrowings\nfrom Meyerbeer,\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n\"MADAMA BUTTERFLY\"\n\nThe opera's ancestry, Loti's \"Madame Chrysantheme,\" John Luther Long's\nstory, David Belasco's play, How the failure of \"Naughty Anthony\"\nsuggested \"Madame Butterfly,\" William Furst and his music, Success of\nMr. Belasco's play in New York, The success repeated in London, Brought\nto the attention of Signor Puccini, Ricordi and Co. and their\nlibrettists, \"Madama Butterfly\" fails in Milan, The first casts in\nMilan, Brescia, and New York, (footnote) Incidents of the fiasco,\nRossini and Puccini, The opera revised, Interruption of the vigil,\nStory of the opera, et seq.--The hiring of wives in Japan, Experiences\nof Pierre Loti, Geishas and mousmes, A changed denouement, Messager's\nopera, \"Madame Chrysantheme,\" The end of Loti's romance, Japanese\nmelodies in the score, Puccini's method and Wagner's, \"The\nStar-Spangled Banner,\" A tune from \"The Mikado,\" Some of the themes of\nPuccini and William Furst,\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\n\"DER ROSENKAVALIER\"\n\nThe opera's predecessors, \"Guntram,\" \"Feuersnot,\" \"Salome,\" Oscar Wilde\nmakes a mistaken appeal to France, His necrophilism welcomed by Richard\nStrauss and Berlin, Conried's efforts to produce \"Salome\" at the\nMetropolitan Opera Blouse suppressed, Hammerstein produces the work,\n\"Elektra,\" Hugo von Hoffmannsthal and Beaumarchais, Strauss and Mozart,\nMozart's themes and Strauss's waltzes, Dancing in Vienna at the time of\nMaria Theresa, First performance of the opera at New York, \"Der\nRosenkavalier\" and \"Le Nozze di Figaro,\" Criticism of the play and its\nmusic, et seq.--Use of a melodic phrase from \"Die Zauberflote,\" The\nlanguage of the libretto, The music, Cast of the first American\nperformance, (footnote)\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\n\"KONIGSKINDER\"\n\nStory of the play, et seq.--First production of Hummerdinck's opera and\ncast, Earlier performance of the work as a melodrama, Author and\ncomposer, Opera and melodrama in Germany, Wagnerian symbolism and\nmusic, \"Die Meistersinger\" recalled, Hero and Leander, Humperdinck's\nmusic,\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\n\"BORIS GODOUNOFF\"\n\nFirst performance of Moussorgsky's opera in New York, Participation of\nthe chorus in the tragedy, Imported French enthusiasm, Vocal melody,\ntextual accents and rhythms, Slavicism expressed in an Italian\ntranslation, Moussorgsky and Debussy, Political reasons for French\nenthusiasm, Rimsky-Korsakoff's revision of the score, Russian operas in\nAmerica, \"Nero,\" \"Pique Dame,\" \"Eugene Onegin,\" Verstoffeky's \"Askold's\nTomb,\" The nationalism of \"Boris Godounoff,\" The Kolydda song \"Slava\"\nand Beethoven, Lack of the feminine element in the drama, The opera's\nlack of coherency, Cast of the first American performance,\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\n\"MADAME SANS-GENE\" AND OTHER OPERAS BY GIORDANO\n\nFirst performance of \"Madame Sans-Gene,\" A singing Napoleon, Royalties\nin opera, Henry the Fowler, King Mark, Verdi's Pharaoh, Herod, Boris\nGodounoff, Macbeth, Gustavus and some mythical kings and dukes, et\nseq.--Mattheson's \"Boris,\" Peter the Great, Sardou's play and\nGiordano's opera, Verdi on an operatic Bonaparte, Sardou's characters,\n\"Andrea Chenier,\" French Rhythms, \"Fedora,\" \"Siberia,\" The historic\nChenier, Russian local color, \"Schone Minka,\" \"Slava,\" \"Ay ouchnem,\"\nFrench revolutionary airs, \"La Marseillaise,\" \"La Carmagnole,\" \"Ca ira,\"\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nTWO OPERAS BY WOLF-FERRARI\n\nThe composer's operas first sung in their original tongue in America,\nFirst performances of \"Le Donne Curiose,\" \"Il Segreto di Susanna,\" \"I\nGiojelli della Madonna,\" \"L'Amore Medico,\" Story and music of \"Le Donne\nCuriose,\" Methods and apparatus of Mozart's day, Wolf-Ferrari's\nTeutonism, Goldoni paraphrased, Nicolai and Verdi, The German version\nof \"Donne Curiose,\" Musical motivi in the opera, Rameau's \"La Poule,\"\nCast of the first performance in New York, (footnote)--Naples and\nopera, \"I Giojelli della Madonna,\" et seq.--Erlanger's \"Aphrodite,\"\nNeapolitan folksongs, Wolf-Ferrari's individuality, His \"Vita Nuova,\"\nFirst performance in America of \"I Giojelli,\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nBIBLICAL OPERAS\n\n\nWhether or not the English owe a grudge to their Lord Chamberlain for\ndepriving them of the pleasure of seeing operas based on Biblical\nstories I do not know. If they do, the grudge cannot be a deep one, for\nit is a long time since Biblical operas were in vogue, and in the case\nof the very few survivals it has been easy to solve the difficulty and\nsalve the conscience of the public censor by the simple device of\nchanging the names of the characters and the scene of action if the\nworks are to be presented on the stage, or omitting scenery, costumes\nand action and performing them as oratorios. In either case, whenever\nthis has been done, however, it has been the habit of critics to make\nmerry at the expense of my Lord Chamberlain and the puritanicalness of\nthe popular spirit of which he is supposed to be the official\nembodiment, and to discourse lugubriously and mayhap profoundly on the\nperversion of composers' purposes and the loss of things essential to\nthe lyric drama.\n\nIt may be heretical to say so, but is it not possible that Lord\nChamberlain and Critic have both taken too serious a view of the\nmatter? There is a vast amount of admirable material in the Bible\n(historical, legendary or mythical, as one happens to regard it), which\nwould not necessarily be degraded by dramatic treatment, and which\nmight be made entertaining as well as edifying, as it has been made in\nthe past, by stage representation. Reverence for this material is\nneither inculcated nor preserved by shifting the scene and throwing a\nveil over names too transparent to effect a disguise. Moreover, when\nthis is done, there is always danger that the process may involve a\nsacrifice of the respect to which a work of art is entitled on its\nmerits as such. Gounod, in collaboration with Barbier and Carre, wrote\nan opera entitled \"La Reine de Saba.\" The plot had nothing to do with\nthe Bible beyond the name of Sheba's Queen and King Solomon. Mr.\nFarnie, who used to make comic operetta books in London, adapted the\nFrench libretto for performance in English and called the opera\n\"Irene.\" What a title for a grand opera! Why not \"Blanche\" or\n\"Arabella\"? No doubt such a thought flitted through many a careless\nmind unconscious that an Irene was a Byzantine Empress of the eighth\ncentury, who, by her devotion to its tenets, won beatification after\ndeath from the Greek Church. The opera failed on the Continent as well\nas in London, but if it had not been given a comic operetta flavor by\nits title and association with the name of the excellent Mr. Farnie,\nwould the change in supposed time, place and people have harmed it?\n\nA few years ago I read (with amusement, of course) of the metamorphosis\nto which Massenet's \"Herodiade\" was subjected so that it might\nmasquerade for a brief space on the London stage; but when I saw the\nopera in New York \"in the original package\" (to speak commercially), I\ncould well believe that the music sounded the same in London, though\nJohn the Baptist sang under an alias and the painted scenes were\nsupposed to delineate Ethiopia instead of Palestine.\n\nThere is a good deal of nonsensical affectation in the talk about the\nintimate association in the minds of composers of music, text,\nincident, and original purpose. \"Un Ballo in Maschera,\" as we see it\nmost often nowadays, plays in Nomansland; but I fancy that its music\nwould sound pretty much the same if the theatre of action were\ntransplanted back to Sweden, whence it came originally, or left in\nNaples, whither it emigrated, or in Boston, to which highly\ninappropriate place it was banished to oblige the Neapolitan censor. So\nlong as composers have the habit of plucking feathers out of their dead\nbirds to make wings for their new, we are likely to remain in happy and\ncontented ignorance of mesalliances between music and score, until they\nare pointed out by too curious critics or confessed by the author. What\nis present habit was former custom to which no kind or degree of stigma\nattached. Bach did it; Handel did it; nor was either of these worthies\nalways scrupulous in distinguishing between meum and tuum when it came\nto appropriating existing thematic material. In their day the merit of\nindividuality and the right of property lay more in the manner in which\nideas were presented than in the ideas themselves.\n\nIn 1886 I spent a delightful day with Dr. Chrysander at his home in\nBergedorf, near Hamburg, and he told me the story of how on one\noccasion, when Keiser was incapacitated by the vice to which he was\nhabitually prone, Handel, who sat in his orchestra, was asked by him to\nwrite the necessary opera. Handel complied, and his success was too\ngreat to leave Keiser's mind in peace. So he reset the book. Before\nKeiser's setting was ready for production Handel had gone to Italy.\nHearing of Keiser's act, he secured a copy of the new setting from a\nmember of the orchestra and sent back to Hamburg a composition based on\nKeiser's melodies \"to show how such themes ought to be treated.\" Dr.\nChrysander, also, when he gave me a copy of Bertati's \"Don Giovanni\"\nlibretto, for which Gazzaniga composed the music, told me that Mozart\nhad been only a little less free than the poet in appropriating ideas\nfrom the older work.\n\nOne of the best pieces in the final scene of \"Fidelio\" was taken from a\ncantata on the death of the emperor of Austria, composed by Beethoven\nbefore he left Bonn. The melody originally conceived for the last\nmovement of the Symphony in D minor was developed into the finale of\none of the last string quartets. In fact the instances in which\ncomposers have put their pieces to widely divergent purposes are\ninnumerable and sometimes amusing, in view of the fantastic belief that\nthey are guided by plenary inspiration. The overture which Rossini\nwrote for his \"Barber of Seville\" was lost soon after the first\nproduction of the opera. The composer did not take the trouble to write\nanother, but appropriated one which had served its purpose in an\nearlier work. Persons ignorant of that fact, but with lively\nimaginations, as I have said in one of my books, [\"A Book of Operas,\"\np. 9] have rhapsodized on its appositeness, and professed to hear in it\nthe whispered plottings of the lovers and the merry raillery of Rosina\ncontrasted with the futile ragings of her grouty guardian; but when\nRossini composed this piece of music its mission was to introduce an\nadventure of the Emperor Aurelianus in Palmyra in the third century of\nthe Christian era. Having served that purpose it became the prelude to\nanother opera which dealt with Queen Elizabeth of England, a monarch\nwho reigned some twelve hundred years after Aurelianus. Again, before\nthe melody now known as that of Almaviva's cavatina had burst into the\nefflorescence which now distinguishes it, it came as a chorus from the\nmouths of Cyrus and his Persians in ancient Babylon.\n\nWhen Mr. Lumley desired to produce Verdi's \"Nabucodonosor\" (called\n\"Nabucco\" for short) in London in 1846 he deferred to English tradition\nand brought out the opera as \"Nino, Re d'Assyria.\" I confess that I\ncannot conceive how changing a king of Babylon to a king of Assyria\ncould possibly have brought about a change one way or the other in the\neffectiveness of Verdi's Italian music, but Mr. Lumley professed to\nhave found in the transformation reason for the English failure. At any\nrate, he commented, in his \"Reminiscences of the Opera,\" \"That the\nopera thus lost much of its original character, especially in the scene\nwhere the captive Israelites became very uninteresting Babylonians, and\nwas thereby shorn of one element of success present on the Continent,\nis undeniable.\"\n\nThere is another case even more to the purpose of this present\ndiscussion. In 1818 Rossini produced his opera \"Mose in Egitto\" in\nNaples. The strength of the work lay in its choruses; yet two of them\nwere borrowed from the composer's \"Armida.\" In 1822 Bochsa performed it\nas an oratorio at Covent Garden, but, says John Ebers in his \"Seven\nYears of the King's Theatre,\" published in 1828, \"the audience\naccustomed to the weighty metal and pearls of price of Handel's\ncompositions found the 'Moses' as dust in the balance in comparison.\"\n\"The oratorio having failed as completely as erst did Pharaoh's host,\"\nEbers continues, \"the ashes of 'Mose in Egitto' revived in the form of\nan opera entitled 'Pietro l'Eremita.' Moses was transformed into Peter.\nIn this form the opera was as successful as it had been unfortunate as\nan oratorio.... 'Mose in Egitto' was condemned as cold, dull, and\nheavy. 'Pietro l'Eremita,' Lord Sefton, one of the most competent\njudges of the day, pronounced to be the most effective opera produced\nwithin his recollection; and the public confirmed the justice of the\nremark, for no opera during my management had such unequivocal\nsuccess.\" [Footnote: \"Seven Years of the King's Theatre,\" by John\nEbers, pp. 157, 158.] This was not the end of the opera's vicissitudes,\nto some of which I shall recur presently; let this suffice now:\n\nRossini rewrote it in 1827, adding some new music for the Academie\nRoyal in Paris, and called it \"Moise\"; when it was revived for the\nCovent Garden oratorios, London, in 1833, it was not only performed\nwith scenery and dresses, but recruited with music from Handel's\noratorio and renamed \"The Israelites in Egypt; or the Passage of the\nRed Sea\"; when the French \"Moise\" reached the Royal Italian Opera,\nCovent Garden, in April, 1850, it had still another name, \"Zora,\"\nthough Chorley does not mention the fact in his \"Thirty Years' Musical\nRecollections,\" probably because the failure of the opera which he\nloved grieved him too deeply. For a long time \"Moses\" occupied a\nprominent place among oratorios. The Handel and Haydn Society of Boston\nadopted it in 1845, and between then and 1878 performed it forty-five\ntimes.\n\nIn all the years of my intimate association with the lyric drama\n(considerably more than the number of which Mr. Chorley has left us a\nrecord) I have seen but one opera in which the plot adheres to the\nBiblical story indicated by its title. That opera is Saint-Saens's\n\"Samson et Dalila.\" I have seen others whose titles and dramatis\npersonae suggested narratives found in Holy Writ, but in nearly all\nthese cases it would be a profanation of the Book to call them Biblical\noperas. Those which come to mind are Goldmark's \"Konigin von Saba,\"\nMassenet's \"Herodiade\" and Richard Strauss's \"Salome.\" I have heard, in\nwhole or part, but not seen, three of the works which Rubinstein would\nfain have us believe are operas, but which are not--\"Das verlorene\nParadies,\" \"Der Thurmbau zu Babel\" and \"Moses\"; and I have a study\nacquaintance with the books and scores of his \"Maccabaer,\" which is an\nopera; his \"Sulamith,\" which tries to be one, and his \"Christus,\" which\nmarks the culmination of the vainest effort that a contemporary\ncomposer made to parallel Wagner's achievement on a different line.\nThere are other works which are sufficiently known to me through\nlibrary communion or concert-room contact to enable me to claim enough\nacquaintanceship to justify converse about them and which must perforce\noccupy attention in this study. Chiefest and noblest of these are\nRossini's \"Moses\" and Mehul's \"Joseph.\" Finally, there are a few with\nwhich I have only a passing or speaking acquaintance; whose faces I can\nrecognize, fragments of whose speech I know, and whose repute is such\nthat I can contrive to guess at their hearts--such as Verdi's\n\"Nabucodonosor\" and Gounod's \"Reine de Saba.\"\n\nRossini's \"Moses\" was the last of the Italian operas (the last by a\nsignificant composer, at least) which used to be composed to ease the\nLenten conscience in pleasure-loving Italy. Though written to be played\nwith the adjuncts of scenery and costumes, it has less of action than\nmight easily be infused into a performance of Mendelssohn's \"Elijah,\"\nand the epical element which finds its exposition in the choruses is\nfar greater than that in any opera of its time with which I am\nacquainted. In both its aspects, as oratorio and as opera, it harks\nback to a time when the two forms were essentially the same save in\nrespect of subject matter. It is a convenient working hypothesis to\ntake the classic tragedy of Hellas as the progenitor of the opera. It\ncan also be taken as the prototype of the Festival of the Ass, which\nwas celebrated as long ago as the twelfth century in France; of the\nmiracle plays which were performed in England at the same time; the\nCommedia spiritiuale of thirteenth-century Italy and the Geistliche\nSchauspiele of fourteenth-century Germany. These mummeries with their\nadmixture of church song, pointed the way as media of edification to\nthe dramatic representations of Biblical scenes which Saint Philip Neri\nused to attract audiences to hear his sermons in the Church of St. Mary\nin Vallicella, in Rome, and the sacred musical dramas came to be called\noratorios. While the camerata were seeking to revive the classic drama\nin Florence, Carissimi was experimenting with sacred material in Rome,\nand his epoch-making allegory, \"La Rappresentazione dell' Anima e del\nCorpo,\" was brought out, almost simultaneously with Peri's \"Euridice,\"\nin 1600. Putting off the fetters of plainsong, music became beautiful\nfor its own sake, and as an agent of dramatic expression. His\nexcursions into Biblical story were followed for a century or more by\nthe authors of sacra azione, written to take the place of secular\noperas in Lent. The stories of Jephtha and his daughter, Hezekiah,\nBelshazzar, Abraham and Isaac, Jonah, Job, the Judgment of Solomon, and\nthe Last Judgment became the staple of opera composers in Italy and\nGermany for more than a century. Alessandro Scarlatti, whose name looms\nlarge in the history of opera, also composed oratorios; and Mr. E. J.\nDent, his biographer, has pointed out that \"except that the operas are\nin three acts and the oratorios in two, the only difference is in the\nabsence of professedly comic characters and of the formal statement in\nwhich the author protests that the words fata, dio, dieta, etc., are\nonly scherzi poetici and imply nothing contrary to the Catholic faith.\"\nZeno and Metastasio wrote texts for sacred operas as well as profane,\nwith Tobias, Absalom, Joseph, David, Daniel, and Sisera as subjects.\n\nPresently I shall attempt a discussion of the gigantic attempt made by\nRubinstein to enrich the stage with an art-form to which he gave a\ndistinctive name, but which was little else than, an inflated type of\nthe old sacra azione, employing the larger apparatus which modern\ninvention and enterprise have placed at the command of the playwright,\nstage manager, and composer. I am compelled to see in his project\nchiefly a jealous ambition to rival the great and triumphant\naccomplishment of Richard Wagner, but it is possible that he had a\nprescient eye on a coming time. The desire to combine pictures with\noratorio has survived the practice which prevailed down to the\nbeginning of the nineteenth century. Handel used scenes and costumes\nwhen he produced his \"Esther,\" as well as his \"Acis and Galatea,\" in\nLondon. Dittersdorf has left for us a description of the stage\ndecorations prepared for his oratorios when they were performed in the\npalace of the Bishop of Groswardein. Of late years there have been a\nnumber of theatrical representations of Mendelssohn's \"Elijah.\" I have\nwitnessed as well as heard a performance of \"Acis and Galatea\" and been\nentertained with the spectacle of Polyphemus crushing the head of\npresumptuous Acis with a stave like another Fafner while singing \"Fly,\nthou massy ruin, fly\" to the bludgeon which was playing understudy for\nthe fatal rock.\n\nThis diverting incident brings me to a consideration of one of the\ndifficulties which stand in the way of effective stage pictures\ncombined with action in the case of some of the most admired of the\nsubjects for oratorios or sacred opera. It was not the Lord Chamberlain\nwho stood in the way of Saint-Saens's \"Samson et Dalila\" in the United\nStates for many years, but the worldly wisdom of opera managers who\nshrank from attempting to stage the spectacle of the falling Temple of\nDagon, and found in the work itself a plentiful lack of that dramatic\nmovement which is to-day considered more essential to success than\nbeautiful and inspiriting music. \"Samson et Dalila\" was well known in\nits concert form when the management of the Metropolitan Opera House\nfirst attempted to introduce it as an opera. It had a single\nperformance in the season of 1894-1895 and then sought seclusion from\nthe stage lamps for twenty years. It was, perhaps, fortunate for the\nwork that no attempt was made to repeat it, for, though well sung and\nsatisfactorily acted, the toppling of the pillars of the temple,\ndiscreetly supported by too visible wires, at the conclusion made a\nstronger appeal to the popular sense of the ridiculous than even\nSaint-Saens's music could withstand. It is easy to inveigh against the\nnotion frivolous fribbles and trumpery trappings receive more attention\nthan the fine music which ought to be recognized as the soul of the\nwork, the vital spark which irradiates an inconsequential material\nbody; but human nature has not yet freed itself sufficiently from gross\nclogs to attain so ideal an attitude.\n\nIt is to a danger similar to that which threatened the original New\nYork \"Samson\" that the world owes the most popular melody in Rossini's\n\"Mose.\" The story is old and familiar to the students of operatic\nhistory, but will bear retelling. The plague of darkness opens the\nopera, the passage of the Red Sea concludes it. Rossini's stage manager\nhad no difficulty with the former, which demanded nothing more than the\nlowering of the stage lights. But he could evolve no device which could\nsave the final miracle from laughter. A hilarious ending to so solemn a\nwork disturbed the management and the librettist, Totola, who, just\nbefore a projected revival in Naples, a year or two after the first\nproduction, came to the composer with a project for saving the third\nact. Rossini was in bed, as usual, and the poet showed him the text of\nthe prayer, \"Dal tuo stellato,\" which he said he had written in an\nhour. \"I will get up and write the music,\" said Rossini; \"you shall\nhave it in a quarter of an hour.\" And he kept his word, whether\nliterally or not in respect of time does not matter. When the opera was\nagain performed it contained the chorus with its melody which provided\nPaganini with material for one of his sensational performances on the\nG-string.\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nCarpani tells the story and describes the effect upon the audience\nwhich heard it for the first time. Laughter was just beginning in the\npit when the public was surprised to note that Moses was about to sing.\nThe people stopped laughing and prepared to listen. They were awed by\nthe beauty of the minor strain which was echoed by Aaron and then by\nthe chorus of Israelites. The host marched across the mimic sea and\nfell on its knees, and the music burst forth again, but now in the\nmajor mode. And now the audience joined in the jubilation. The people\nin the boxes, says Carpani, stood up; they leaned over the railings;\napplauded; they shouted: \"Bello! bello! O che bello!\" Carpani adds: \"I\nam almost in tears when I think of this prayer.\" An impressionable\nfolk, those Italians of less than a century ago. \"Among other things\nthat can be said in praise of our hero,\" remarked a physician to\nCarpani, amidst the enthusiasm caused by the revamped opera, \"do not\nforget that he is an assassin. I can cite to you more than forty\nattacks of nervous fever or violent convulsions on the part of young\nwomen, fond to excess of music, which have no other origin than the\nprayer of the Hebrews in the third act with its superb change of key!\"\n\nThus music saved the scene in Naples. When the opera was rewritten for\nLondon and made to tell a story about Peter the Hermit, the\ncorresponding scene had to be elided after the first performance. Ebers\ntells the story: \"A body of troops was supposed to pass over a bridge\nwhich, breaking, was to precipitate them into the water. The troops\nbeing made of basketwork and pulled over the bridge by ropes,\nunfortunately became refractory on their passage, and very sensibly\nrefused, when the bridge was about to give way, to proceed any further;\nconsequently when the downfall of the arches took place the basket men\nremained very quietly on that part of the bridge which was left\nstanding, and instead of being consigned to the waves had nearly been\nset on fire. The audience, not giving the troops due credit for their\nprudence, found no little fault with their compliance with the law of\nself-preservation. In the following representations of the opera the\nbridge and basket men which, en passant (or en restant rather), had\ncost fifty pounds, were omitted.\" [Footnote: Op. cit., p. 160] When\n\"Moise\" was prepared in Paris 45,000 francs were sunk in the Red Sea.\n\nI shall recur in a moment to the famous preghiera but, having Ebers'\nbook before me, I see an anecdote so delightfully illustrative of the\nproverbial spirit of the lyric theatre that I cannot resist the\ntemptation to repeat it. In the revised \"Moses\" made for Paris there\noccurs a quartet beginning \"Mi manca la voce\" (\"I lack voice\") which\nChorley describes as \"a delicious round.\" Camporese had to utter the\nwords first and no sooner had she done so than Ronzi di Begnis, in a\nwhisper, loud enough to be heard by her companion, made the comment \"E\nvero!\" (\"True!\")--\"a remark,\" says Mr. Ebers, \"which produced a retort\ncourteous somewhat more than verging on the limit of decorum, though\nnot proceeding to the extremity asserted by rumor, which would have\nbeen as inconsistent with propriety as with the habitual dignity and\nself-possession of Camporese's demeanor.\"\n\nSomebody, I cannot recall who, has said that the success of \"Dal tuo\nstellato\" set the fashion of introducing prayers into operas. Whether\nthis be true or not, it is a fact that a prayer occurs in four of the\noperas which Rossini composed for the Paris Grand Opera and that the\nformula is become so common that it may be set down as an operatic\nconvention, a convention, moreover, which even the iconoclast Wagner\nleft undisturbed. One might think that the propriety of prayer in a\nreligious drama would have been enforced upon the mind of a classicist\nlike Goethe by his admiration for the antique, but it was the fact that\nRossini's opera showed the Israelites upon their knees in supplication\nto God that set the great German poet against \"Mose.\" In a conversation\nrecorded by Eckermann as taking place in 1828, we hear him uttering his\nobjection to the work: \"I do not understand how you can separate and\nenjoy separately the subject and the music. You pretend here that the\nsubject is worthless, but you are consoled for it by a feast of\nexcellent music. I wonder that your nature is thus organized that your\near can listen to charming sounds while your sight, the most perfect of\nyour senses, is tormented by absurd objects. You will not deny that\nyour 'Moses' is in effect very absurd. The curtain is raised and people\nare praying. This is all wrong. The Bible says that when you pray you\nshould go into your chamber and close the door. Therefore, there should\nbe no praying in the theatre. As for me, I should have arranged a\nwholly different 'Moses.' At first I should have shown the children of\nIsrael bowed down by countless odious burdens and suffering from the\ntyranny of the Egyptian rulers. Then you would have appreciated more\neasily what Moses deserved from his race, which he had delivered from a\nshameful oppression.\" \"Then,\" says Mr. Philip Hale, who directed my\nattention to this interesting passage, \"Goethe went on to reconstruct\nthe whole opera. He introduced, for instance, a dance of the Egyptians\nafter the plague of darkness was dispelled.\"\n\nMay not one criticise Goethe? If he so greatly reverenced prayer,\naccording to its institution under the New Dispensation, why did he not\nshow regard also for the Old and respect the verities of history\nsufficiently to reserve his ballet till after the passage of the Red\nSea, when Moses celebrated the miracle with a song and \"Miriam, the\nprophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand; and all\nthe women went out after her with timbrels and with dances\"?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nBIBLE STORIES IN OPERA AND ORATORIO\n\n\nIt was the fond belief of Dr. Chrysander, born of his deep devotion to\nHandel, in whose works he lived and moved and had his being, that the\nheroic histories of the Jews offered no fit material for dramatic\nrepresentation. In his view the Jews never created dramatic poetry,\npartly because of the Mosaic prohibition against plastic delineation of\ntheir Deity, partly because the tragic element, which was so potent an\ninfluence in the development of the Greek drama, was wanting in their\nheroes. The theory that the Song of Songs, that canticle of canticles\nof love, was a pastoral play had no lodgment in his mind; the poem\nseemed less dramatic to him than the Book of Job. The former sprang\nfrom the idyllic life of the northern tribes and reflected that life;\nthe latter, much more profound in conception, proved by its form that\nthe road to a real stage-play was insurmountably barred to the Hebrew\npoet. What poetic field was open to him then? Only the hymning of a\nDeity, invisible, omnipresent and omnipotent, the swelling call to\ncombat for the glory of God against an inimical world, and the\ncelebration of an ideal consisting in a peaceful, happy existence in\nthe Land of Promise under God's protecting care. This God presented\nHimself occasionally as a militant, all-powerful warrior, but only in\nmoments when the fortunes of His people were critically at issue. These\nmoments, however, were exceptional and few; as a rule, God manifested\nHimself in prophecy, through words and music. The laws were promulgated\nin song; so were the prophetic promises, denunciations, and calls to\nrepentance; and there grew up a magnificent liturgical service in the\ntemple.\n\nHebrew poetry, epic and lyrical, was thus antagonistic to the drama.\nSo, also, Dr. Chrysander contends, was the Hebrew himself. Not only had\nhe no predilection for plastic creation, his life was not dramatic in\nthe sense illustrated in Greek tragedy. He lived a care-free, sensuous\nexistence, and either fell under righteous condemnation for his\ntransgressions or walked in the way prescribed of the Lord and found\nrest at last in Abraham's bosom. His life was simple; so were his\nstrivings, his longings, his hopes. Yet when it came to the defence or\ncelebration of his spiritual possessions his soul was filled with such\na spirit of heroic daring, such a glow of enthusiasm, as are not to be\nparalleled among another of the peoples of antiquity. He thus became a\nfit subject for only one of the arts--music; in this art for only one\nof its spheres, the sublime, the most appropriate and efficient vehicle\nof which is the oratorio.\n\nOne part of this argument seems to me irrelevant; the other not firmly\nfounded in fact. It does not follow that because the Greek conscience\nevolved the conceptions of rebellious pride and punitive Fate while the\nHebrew conscience did not, therefore the Greeks were the predestined\ncreators of the art-form out of which grew the opera and the Hebrews of\nthe form which grew into the oratorio. Neither is it true that because\na people are not disposed toward dramatic creation themselves they can\nnot, or may not, be the cause of dramatic creativeness in others. Dr.\nChrysander's argument, made in a lecture at the Johanneum in Hamburg in\n1896, preceded an analysis of Handel's Biblical oratorios in their\nrelation to Hebrew history, and his exposition of that history as he\nunfolded it chronologically from the Exodus down to the Maccabaean\nperiod was in itself sufficient to furnish many more fit operatic plots\nthan have yet been written. Nor are there lacking in these stories some\nof the elements of Greek legend and mythology which were the\nmainsprings of the tragedies of Athens. The parallels are striking:\nJephtha's daughter and Iphigenia; Samson and his slavery and the\nservitude of Hercules and Perseus; the fate of Ajax and other heroes\nmade mad by pride, and the lycanthropy of Nebuchadnezzar, of whose\nvanity Dr. Hanslick once reminded Wagner, warning him against the fate\nof the Babylonian king who became like unto an ox, \"ate grass and was\ncomposed by Verdi\"; think reverently of Alcestis and the Christian\ndoctrine of atonement!\n\nThe writers of the first Biblical operas sought their subjects as far\nback in history, or legend, as the written page permitted. Theile\ncomposed an \"Adam and Eve\" in 1678; but our first parents never became\npopular on the serious stage. Perhaps the fearful soul of the\ntheatrical costumer was frightened and perplexed by the problem which\nthe subject put up to him. Haydn introduced them into his oratorio \"The\nCreation,\" but, as the custom goes now, the third part of the work, in\nwhich they appear, is frequently, if not generally omitted in\nperformance. Adam, to judge by the record in Holy Writ, made an\nuneventful end: \"And all the days that Adam lived were nine hundred and\nthirty years: and he died\"; but this did not prevent Lesueur from\nwriting an opera on his death ten years after Haydn's oratorio had its\nfirst performance. He called it \"La Mort d'Adam et son Apotheose,\" and\nit involved him in a disastrous quarrel with the directors of the\nConservatoire and the Academie. Pursuing the search chronologically,\nthe librettists next came upon Cain and Abel, who offered a more\nfruitful subject for dramatic and musical invention. We know very\nlittle about the sacred operas which shared the list with works based\non classical fables and Roman history in the seventeenth and eighteenth\ncenturies; inasmuch, however, as they were an outgrowth of the pious\nplays of the Middle Ages and designed for edifying consumption in Lent,\nit is likely that they adhered in their plots pretty close to the\nBiblical accounts. I doubt if the sentimental element which was in\nvogue when Rossini wrote \"Mose in Egitto\" played much of a role in such\nan opera as Johann Philipp Fortsch's \"Kain und Abel; oder der\nverzweifelnde Brudermorder,\" which was performed in Hamburg in 1689, or\neven in \"Abel's Tod,\" which came along in 1771. The first fratricidal\nmurder seems to have had an early and an enduring fascination for\ndramatic poets and composers. Metastasio's \"La Morte d'Abele,\" set by\nboth Caldara and Leo in 1732, remained a stalking-horse for composers\ndown to Morlacchi in 1820. One of the latest of Biblical operas is the\n\"Kain\" of Heinrich Bulthaupt and Eugen d'Albert. This opera and a later\nlyric drama by the same composer, \"Tote Augen\" (under which title a\ncasual reader would never suspect that a Biblical subject was lurking),\ncall for a little attention because of their indication of a possible\ndrift which future dramatists may follow in treating sacred story.\n\nWicked envy and jealousy were not sufficient motives in the eyes of\nBulthaupt and d'Albert for the first fratricide; there must be an\ninfusion of psychology and modern philosophy. Abel is an optimist, an\nidealist, a contented dreamer, joying in the loveliness of life and\nnature; Cain, a pessimist, a morose brooder, for whom life contained no\nbeautiful illusions. He gets up from his couch in the night to question\nthe right of God to create man for suffering. He is answered by\nLucifer, who proclaims himself the benefactor of the family in having\nrescued them from the slothful existence of Eden and given them a\nRedeemer. The devil discourses on the delightful ministrations of that\nRedeemer, whose name is Death. In the morning Abel arises and as he\noffers his sacrifice he hymns the sacred mystery of life and turns a\ndeaf ear to the new-found gospel of his brother. An inspiring thought\ncomes to Cain; by killing Abel and destroying himself he will save\nfuture generations from the sufferings to which they are doomed. With\nthis benevolent purpose in mind he commits the murder. The blow has\nscarcely been struck before a multitude of spirit-voices call his name\nand God thunders the question: \"Where is Abel, thy brother?\" Adam comes\nfrom his cave and looks upon the scene with horror. Now Cain realizes\nthat his work is less than half done: he is himself still alive and so\nis his son Enoch. He rushes forward to kill his child, but the mother\nthrows herself between, and Cain discovers that he is not strong-willed\nenough to carry out his design. God's curse condemns him to eternal\nunrest, and while the elements rage around him Cain goes forth into the\nmountain wilderness.\n\nHerr Bulthaupt did not permit chronology to stand in the way of his\naction, but it can at least be said for him that he did not profane the\nBook as Herr Ewers, Mr. d'Albert's latest collaborator, did when he\nturned a story of Christ's miraculous healing of a blind woman into a\nsensational melodrama. In the precious opera, \"Tote Augen\" (\"Dead\nEyes\"), brought out in March, 1916, in Dresden, Myrocle, the blind\nwoman, is the wife of Arcesius, a Roman ambassador in Jerusalem. Never\nhaving seen him, Myrocle believes her husband to be a paragon of\nbeauty, but he is, in fact, hideous of features, crook-backed, and\nlame; deformed in mind and heart, too, for he has concealed the truth\nfrom her. Christ is entering Jerusalem, and Mary of Magdala leads\nMyrocle to him, having heard of the miracles which he performs, and he\nopens the woman's eyes at the moment that the multitude is shouting its\nhosannahs. The first man who fills the vision of Myrocle is Galba,\nhandsome, noble, chivalrous, who had renounced the love he bore her\nbecause she was the wife of his friend. In Galba the woman believes she\nsees the husband whom in her fond imagination she had fitted out with\nthe charms of mind and person which his friend possesses. She throws\nherself into his arms, and he does not repel her mistaken embraces; but\nthe misshapen villain throws himself upon the pair and strangles his\nfriend to death. A slave enlightens the mystified woman; the murderer,\nnot the dead hero at his feet, is her husband. Singularly enough, she\ndoes not turn from him with hatred and loathing, but looks upon him\nwith a great pity. Then she turns her eyes upon the sun, which Christ\nhad said should not set until she had cursed him, and gazes into its\nsearing glow until her sight is again dead. Moral: it is sinful to love\nthe loveliness of outward things; from the soul must come salvation. As\nif she had never learned the truth, she returns to her wifely love for\nArcesius. The story is as false to nature as it is sacrilegious; its\ntrumpery theatricalism is as great a hindrance to a possible return of\nBiblical opera as the disgusting celebration of necrophilism in Richard\nStrauss's \"Salome.\"\n\nIn our historical excursion we are still among the patriarchs, and the\nwhole earth is of one language and of one speech. Noah, the ark, and\nthe deluge seem now too prodigious to be essayed by opera makers, but,\napparently, they did not awe the Englishman Edward Eccleston (or\nEggleston), who is said to have produced an opera, \"Noah's Flood, or\nthe Destruction of the World,\" in London in 1679, nor Seyfried, whose\n\"Libera me\" was sung at Beethoven's funeral, and who, besides Biblical\noperas entitled \"Saul,\" \"Abraham,\" \"The Maccabees,\" and \"The Israelites\nin the Desert,\" brought out a \"Noah\" in Vienna in 1818. Halevy left an\nunfinished opera, \"Noe,\" which Bizet, who was his son-in-law,\ncompleted. Of oratorios dealing with the deluge I do not wish to speak\nfurther than to express my admiration for the manner in which\nSaint-Saens opened the musical floodgates in \"Le Deluge.\"\n\nOn the plain in the Land of Shinar the families of the sons of Noah\nbuilded them a city and a tower whose top they arrogantly hoped might\nreach unto heaven. But the tower fell, the tongues of the people were\nconfounded, and the people were scattered abroad on the face of the\nearth. Rubinstein attempted to give dramatic representation to the\ntremendous incident, and to his effort and vain dream I shall revert in\nthe next chapter of this book. Now I must on with the history of the\npatriarchs. The story of Abraham and his attempted offering of Isaac\nhas been much used as oratorio material, and Joseph Elsner, Chopin's\nteacher, brought out a Polish opera, \"Ofiara Abrama,\" at Warsaw in 1827.\n\nA significant milestone in the history of the Hebrews as well as\nBiblical operas has now been reached. The sojourn of the Jews in Egypt\nand their final departure under the guidance of Moses have already\noccupied considerable attention in this study. They provided material\nfor the two operas which seem to me the noblest of their kind--Mehul's\n\"Joseph\" and Rossini's \"Mose in Egitto.\" Mehul's opera, more than a\ndecade older than Rossini's, still holds a place on the stages of\nFrance and Germany, and this despite the fact that it foregoes two\nfactors which are popularly supposed to be essential to operatic\nsuccess--a love episode and woman's presence and participation in the\naction. The opera, which is in three acts, was brought forward at the\nTheatre Feydeau in Paris on February 17, 1807. It owed its origin to a\nBiblical tragedy entitled \"Omasis,\" by Baour Lormian. The subject--the\nsale of Joseph by his brothers into Egyptian slavery, his rise to\npower, his forgiveness of the wrong attempted against him, and his\nprovision of a home for the people of Israel in the land of Goshen--had\nlong been popular with composers of oratorios. The list of these works\nbegins with Caldara's \"Giuseppe\" in 1722. Metastasio's \"Giuseppe\nriconosciuto\" was set by half a dozen composers between 1733 and 1788.\nHandel wrote his English oratorio in 1743; G. A. Macfarren's was\nperformed at the Leeds festival of 1877. Lormian thought it necessary\nto introduce a love episode into his tragedy, but Alexander Duval, who\nwrote the book for Mehul's opera, was of the opinion that the diversion\nonly enfeebled the beautiful if austere picture of patriarchal domestic\nlife delineated in the Bible. He therefore adhered to tradition and\ncreated a series of scenes full of beauty, dignity, and pathos, simple\nand strong in spite of the bombast prevalent in the literary style of\nthe period. Mehul's music is marked by grandeur, simplicity, lofty\nsentiment, and consistent severity of manner. The composer's\npredilection for ecclesiastical music, created, no doubt, by the blind\norganist who taught him in his childhood and nourished by his studies\nand labors at the monastery under the gifted Hauser, found opportunity\nfor expression in the religious sentiments of the drama, and his\nknowledge of plain chant is exhibited in the score \"the simplicity,\ngrandeur, and dramatic truth of which will always command the\nadmiration of impartial musicians,\" remarks Gustave Choquet. The\nenthusiasm of M. Tiersot goes further still, for he says that the music\nof \"Joseph\" is more conspicuous for the qualities of dignity and\nsonority than that of Handel's oratorio. The German Hanslick, to whom\nthe absence from the action of the \"salt of the earth, women\" seemed\ndisastrous, nevertheless does not hesitate to institute a comparison\nbetween \"Joseph\" and one of Mozart's latest operas. \"In its mild,\npassionless benevolence the entire role of Joseph in Mehul's opera,\" he\nsays, \"reminds one strikingly of Mozart's 'Titus,' and not to the\nadvantage of the latter. The opera 'Titus' is the work of an\nincomparably greater genius, but it belongs to a partly untruthful,\nwholly modish, tendency (that of the old opera seria), while the genre\nof 'Joseph' is thoroughly noble, true, and eminently dramatic. 'Joseph'\nhas outlived 'Titus.'\" [Footnote: \"Die Moderne Opera,\" p. 92.] Carl\nMaria von Weber admired Mehul's opera greatly, and within recent years\nFelix Weingartner has edited a German edition for which he composed\nrecitatives to take the place of the spoken dialogue of the original\nbook.\n\nThere is no story of passion in \"Joseph.\" The love portrayed there is\ndomestic and filial; its objects are the hero's father, brothers, and\ncountry--\"Champs eternels, Hebron, douce vallee.\" It was not until our\nown day that an author with a perverted sense which had already found\ngratification in the stench of mental, moral, and physical decay\nexhaled by \"Salome\" and \"Elektra\" nosed the piquant, pungent odor of\nthe episode of Potiphar's wife and blew it into the theatre. Joseph's\ntemptress did not tempt even the prurient taste which gave us the\nParisian operatic versions of the stories of Phryne, Thais, and\nMessalina. Richard Strauss's \"Josephslegende\" stands alone in musical\nliterature. There is, indeed, only one reference in the records of\noratorio or opera to the woman whose grovelling carnality is made the\nfoil of Joseph's virtue in the story as told in the Book. That\nreference is found in a singular trilogy, which was obviously written\nmore to disclose the possibilities of counterpoint than to set forth\nthe story--even if it does that, which I cannot say; the suggestion\ncomes only from a title. In August, 1852, Pietro Raimondi produced an\noratorio in three parts entitled, respectively, \"Putifar,\" \"Giuseppe\ngiusto,\" and \"Giacobbe,\" at the Teatro Argentina, in Rome. The music of\nthe three works was so written that after each had been performed\nseparately, with individual principal singers, choristers, and\norchestras, they were united in a simultaneous performance. The success\nof the stupendous experiment in contrapuntal writing was so great that\nthe composer fell in a faint amidst the applause of the audience and\ndied less than three months afterward.\n\nIn the course of this study I have mentioned nearly all of the Biblical\ncharacters who have been turned into operatic heroes. Nebuchadnezzar\nappeared on the stage at Hamburg in an opera of Keiser's in 1704;\nAriosti put him through his bovine strides in Vienna in 1706. He was\nput into a ballet by a Portuguese composer and made the butt of a\nFrench opera bouffe writer, J. J. Debillement, in 1871. He recurs to my\nmind now in connection with a witty fling at \"Nabucco\" made by a French\nrhymester when Verdi's opera was produced at Paris in 1845. The noisy\nbrass in the orchestration offended the ears of a critic, and he wrote:\n\n    Vraiment l'affiche est dans son tort;\n      En faux, ou devrait la poursuivre.\n    Pourquoi nous annoncer Nabuchodonos--or\n      Quand c'est Nabuchodonos--cuivre?\n\n\nJudas Maccabaeus is one of the few heroes of ancient Israel who have\nsurvived in opera, Rubinstein's \"Makkabaer\" still having a hold, though\nnot a strong one, on the German stage. The libretto is an adaptation by\nMosenthal (author also of Goldmark's \"Queen of Sheba\") of a drama by\nOtto Ludwig. In the drama as well as some of its predecessors some\nliberties have been taken with the story as told in Maccabees II,\nchapter 7. The tale of the Israelitish champion of freedom and his\nbrothers Jonathan and Simon, who lost their lives in the struggle\nagainst the tyranny of the kings of Syria, is intensely dramatic. For\nstage purposes the dramatists have associated the massacre of a mother\nand her seven sons and the martyrdom of the aged Eleazar, who caused\nthe uprising of the Jews, with the family history of Judas himself. J.\nW. Franck produced \"Die Maccabaische Mutter\" in Hamburg in 1679,\nAriosti composed \"La Madre dei Maccabei\" in 1704, Ignaz von Seyfried\nbrought out \"Die Makkabaer, oder Salmonaa\" in 1818, and Rubinstein his\nopera in Berlin on April 17,1875.\n\nThe romantic career of Jephtha, a natural son, banished from home,\nchief of a band of roving marauders, mighty captain and ninth judge of\nIsrael, might have fitted out many an opera text, irrespective of the\npathetic story of the sacrifice of his daughter in obedience to a vow,\nthough this episode springs first to mind when his name is mentioned,\nand has been the special subject of the Jephtha operas. An Italian\ncomposer named Pollarolo wrote a \"Jefte\" for Vienna in 1692; other\noperas dealing with the history are Rolle's \"Mehala, die Tochter\nJephthas\" (1784), Meyerbeer's \"Jephtha's Tochter\" (Munich, 1813),\nGenerali, \"Il voto di Jefte\" (1827), Sanpieri, \"La Figlia di Jefte\"\n(1872). Luis Cepeda produced a Spanish opera in Madrid in 1845, and a\nFrench opera, in five acts and a prologue, by Monteclaire, was\nprohibited, after one performance, by Cardinal de Noailles in 1832.\n\nJudith, the widow of Manasseh, who delivered her native city of\nBethulia from the Assyrian Holofernes, lulling him to sleep with her\ncharms and then striking off his drunken head with a falchion, though\nan Apocryphal personage, is the most popular of Israelitish heroines.\nThe record shows the operas \"Judith und Holofernes\" by Leopold\nKotzeluch (1799), \"Giuditta\" by S. Levi (1844), Achille Peri (1860),\nRighi (1871), and Sarri (1875). Naumann wrote a \"Judith\" in 1858,\nDoppler another in 1870, and Alexander Seroff a Russian opera under the\nsame title in 1863. Martin Roder, who used to live in Boston, composed\na \"Judith,\" but it was never performed, while George W. Chadwick's\n\"Judith,\" half cantata, half opera, which might easily be fitted for\nthe stage, has had to rest content with a concert performance at a\nWorcester (Mass.) festival.\n\nThe memory of Esther, the queen of Ahasuerus, who saved her people from\nmassacre, is preserved and her deed celebrated by the Jews in their\ngracious festival of Purim. A gorgeous figure for the stage, she has\nbeen relegated to the oratorio platform since the end of the eighteenth\ncentury. Racine's tragedy \"Athalie\" has called out music from Abbe\nVogler, Gossec, Boieldieu, Mendelssohn, and others, and a few\noratorios, one by Handel, have been based on the story of the woman\nthrough whom idolatry was introduced into Judah; but I have no record\nof any Athalia opera.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nRUBINSTEIN'S \"GEISTLICHE OPER\"\n\n\nI have a strong belief in the essential excellence of Biblical subjects\nfor the purposes of the lyric drama--at least from an historical point\nof view. I can see no reason against but many reasons in favor of a\nreturn to the stage of the patriarchal and heroic figures of the people\nwho are a more potent power in the world to-day, despite their\ndispersal and loss of national unity, than they were in the days of\ntheir political grandeur and glory. Throughout the greater part of his\ncreative career Anton Rubinstein was the champion of a similar idea. Of\nthe twenty works which he wrote for the theatre, including ballets, six\nwere on Biblical subjects, and to promote a propaganda which began with\nthe composition of \"Der Thurmbau zu Babel,\" in 1870, he not only\nentered the literary field, but made personal appeal for practical\nassistance in both the Old World and the New. His, however, was a\nreligious point of view, not the historical or political. It is very\nlikely that a racial predilection had much to do with his attitude on\nthe subject, but in his effort to bring religion into the service of\nthe lyric stage he was no more Jew than Christian: the stories to which\nhe applied his greatest energies were those of Moses and Christ.\n\nMuch against my inclination (for Rubinstein came into my intellectual\nlife under circumstances and conditions which made him the strongest\npersonal influence in music that I have ever felt), I have been\ncompelled to believe that there were other reasons besides those which\nhe gave for his championship of Biblical opera. Smaller men than he,\nsince Wagner's death, have written trilogies and dreamed of theatres\nand festivals devoted to performances of their works. Little wonder if\nRubinstein believed that he had created, or could create, a kind of\nart-work which should take place by the side of \"Der Ring des\nNibelungen,\" and have its special home like Bayreuth; and it may have\nbeen a belief that his project would excite the sympathetic zeal of the\ndevout Jew and pious Christian alike, as much as his lack of the\ncapacity for self-criticism, which led him like a will-o'-the-wisp\nalong the path which led into the bogs of failure and disappointment.\n\nWhile I was engaged in writing the programme book for the music\nfestival given in New York in 1881, at which \"The Tower of Babel\" was\nperformed in a truly magnificent manner, Dr. Leopold Damrosch, the\nconductor of the festival, told me that Rubinstein had told him that\nthe impulse to use Biblical subjects in lyrical dramas had come to him\nwhile witnessing a ballet based on a Bible story many years before in\nParis. He said that he had seldom been moved so profoundly by any\nspectacle as by this ballet, and it suggested to him the propriety of\ntreating sacred subjects in a manner worthy of them, yet different from\nthe conventional oratorio. The explanation has not gotten into the\nbooks, but is not inconsistent with the genesis of his Biblical operas,\nas related by Rubinstein in his essay on the subject printed by Joseph\nLewinsky in his book \"Vor den Coulissen,\" published in 1882 after at\nleast three of the operas had been written. The composer's defence of\nhis works and his story of the effort which he made to bring about a\nrealization of his ideals deserve to be rehearsed in justice to his\ncharacter as man and artist, as well as in the interest of the works\nthemselves and the subjects, which, I believe, will in the near future\noccupy the minds of composers again.\n\n\"The oratorio,\" said Rubinstein, \"is an art-form which I have always\nbeen disposed to protest against. The best-known masterpieces of this\nform have, not during the study of them but when hearing them\nperformed, always left me cold; indeed, often positively pained me. The\nstiffness of the musical and still more of the poetical form always\nseemed to me absolutely incongruous with the high dramatic feeling of\nthe subject. To see and hear gentlemen in dress coats, white cravats,\nyellow gloves, holding music books before them, or ladies in modern,\noften extravagant, toilets singing the parts of the grand, imposing\nfigures of the Old and New Testaments has always disturbed me to such a\ndegree that I could never attain to pure enjoyment. Involuntarily I\nfelt and thought how much grander, more impressive, vivid, and true\nwould be all that I had experienced in the concert-room if represented\non the stage with costumes, decorations, and full action.\"\n\nThe contention, said Rubinstein in effect, that Biblical subjects are\nill adapted to the stage beeause of their sacred character is a\ntestimony of poverty for the theatre, which should be an agency in the\nservice of the highest purposes of culture. The people have always\nwanted to see stage representations of Bible incidents; witness the\nmystery plays of the Middle Ages and the Passion Play at Oberammergau\nto-day. But yielding to a prevalent feeling that such representations\nare a profanation of sacred history, he had conceived an appropriate\ntype of art-work which was to be produced in theatres to be specially\nbuilt for the purpose and by companies of artists to be specially\ntrained to that end. This art-work was to be called Sacred Opera\n(geistliche Oper), to distinguish it from secular opera, but its\npurpose was to be purely artistic and wholly separate from the\ninterests of the Church. He developed ways and means for raising the\nnecessary funds, enlisting artists, overcoming the difficulties\npresented by the mise en scene and the polyphonic character of the\nchoral music, and set forth his aim in respect of the subject-matter of\nthe dramas to be a representation in chronological order of the chief\nincidents described in the Old and New Testaments. He would be willing\nto include in his scheme Biblical operas already existing, if they were\nnot all, with the exception of Mehul's \"Joseph,\" made unfit by their\ntreatment of sacred matters, especially by their inclusion of love\nepisodes which brought them into the domain of secular opera.\n\nFor years, while on his concert tours in various countries, Rubinstein\nlabored to put his plan into operation. Wherever he found a public\naccustomed to oratorio performances he inquired into the possibility of\nestablishing his sacred theatre there. He laid the project before the\nGrand Duke of Weimar, who told him that it was feasible only in large\ncities. The advice sent him to Berlin, where he opened his mind to the\nMinister of Education, von Muhler. The official had his doubts; sacred\noperas might do for Old Testament stories, but not for New; moreover,\nsuch a theatre should be a private, not a governmental, undertaking. He\nsought the opinion of Stanley, Dean of Westminster Abbey, who said that\nhe could only conceive a realization of the idea in the oldtime popular\nmanner, upon a rude stage at a country fair.\n\nFor a space it looked as if the leaders of the Jewish congregations in\nParis would provide funds for the enterprise so far as it concerned\nitself with subjects taken from the Old Dispensation; but at the last\nthey backed out, fearing to take the initiative in a matter likely to\ncause popular clamor. \"I even thought of America,\" says Rubinstein, \"of\nthe daring transatlantic impresarios, with their lust of enterprise,\nwho might be inclined to speculate on a gigantic scale with my idea. I\nhad indeed almost succeeded, but the lack of artists brought it to pass\nthat the plans, already in a considerable degree of forwardness, had to\nbe abandoned. I considered the possibility of forming an association of\ncomposers and performing artists to work together to carry on the\nenterprise materially, intellectually, and administratively; but the\ngreat difficulty of enlisting any considerable number of artists for\nthe furtherance of a new idea in art frightened me back from this\npurpose also.\" In these schemes there are evidences of Rubinstein's\nwillingness to follow examples set by Handel as well as Wagner. The\nformer composed \"Judas Maccabaeus\" and \"Alexander Balus\" to please the\nJews who had come to his help when he made financial shipwreck with his\nopera; the latter created the Richard Wagner Verein to put the Bayreuth\nenterprise on its feet.\n\nOf the six sacred operas composed by Rubinstein three may be said to be\npracticable for stage representation. They are \"Die Makkabaer,\"\n\"Sulamith\" (based on Solomon's Song of Songs) and \"Christus.\" The first\nhas had many performances in Germany; the second had a few performances\nin Hamburg in 1883; the last, first performed as an oratorio in Berlin\nin 1885, was staged in Bremen in 1895. It has had, I believe, about\nfourteen representations in all. As for the other three works, \"Der\nThurmbau zu Babel\" (first performance in Konigsberg in 1870), \"Das\nverlorene Paradies\" (Dusseldorf, 1875), and \"Moses\" (still awaiting\ntheatrical representation, I believe), it may be said of them that they\nare hybrid creations which combine the oratorio and opera styles by\nutilizing the powers of the oldtime oratorio chorus and the modern\norchestra, with the descriptive capacity of both raised to the highest\npower, to illustrate an action which is beyond the capabilities of the\nordinary stage machinery. In the character of the forms employed in the\nworks there is no startling innovation; we meet the same alternation of\nchorus, recitative, aria, and ensemble that we have known since the\noratorio style was perfected. A change, howeer, has come over the\nspirit of the expression and the forms have all relaxed some of their\nrigidity. In the oratorios of Handel and Haydn there are instances not\na few of musical delineation in the instrumental as well as the vocal\nparts; but nothing in them can be thought of, so far at least as the\nambition of the design extends, as a companion piece to the scene in\nthe opera which pictures the destruction of the tower of Babel. This is\nas far beyond the horizon of the fancy of the old masters as it is\nbeyond the instrumental forces which they controlled.\n\n\"Paradise Lost,\" the text paraphrased from portions of Milton's epic,\nis an oratorio pure and simple. It deals with the creation of the world\naccording to the Mosaic (or as Huxley would have said, Miltonic) theory\nand the medium of expression is an alternation of recitatives and\nchoruses, the latter having some dramatic life and a characteristic\naccompaniment. It is wholly contemplative; there is nothing like action\nin it. \"The Tower of Babel\" has action in the restricted sense in which\nit enters into Mendelssohn's oratorios, and scenic effects which would\ntax the utmost powers of the modern stage-machinist who might attempt\nto carry them out. A mimic tower of Babel is more preposterous than a\nmimic temple of Dagon; yet, unless Rubinstein's stage directions are to\nbe taken in a Pickwickian sense, we ought to listen to this music while\nlooking at a stage-setting more colossal than any ever contemplated by\ndramatist before. We should see a wide stretch of the plain of Shinar;\nin the foreground a tower so tall as to give color of plausibility to a\nspeech which prates of an early piercing of heaven and so large as to\nprovide room for a sleeping multitude on its scaffoldings. Brick kilns,\nderricks, and all the apparatus and machinery of building should be on\nall hands, and from the summit of a mound should grow a giant tree,\nagainst whose trunk should hang a brazen shield to be used as a signal\ngong. We should see in the progress of the opera the bustling activity\nof the workmen, the roaring flames and rolling smoke of the brick\nkilns, and witness the miraculous spectacle of a man thrown into the\nfire and walking thence unharmed. We should see (in dissolving views)\nthe dispersion of the races and behold the unfolding of a rainbow in\nthe sky. And, finally, we should get a glimpse of an open heaven and\nthe Almighty on His throne, and a yawning hell, with Satan and his\nangels exercising their dread dominion. Can such scenes be mimicked\nsuccessfully enough to preserve a serious frame of mind in the\nobserver? Hardly. Yet the music seems obviously to have been written in\nthe expectation that sight shall aid hearing to quicken the fancy and\nemotion and excite the faculties to an appreciation of the work.\n\n\"The Tower of Babel\" has been performed upon the stage; how I cannot\neven guess. Knowing, probably, that the work would be given in concert\nform oftener than in dramatic, Rubinstein tries to stimulate the fancy\nof those who must be only listeners by profuse stage directions which\nare printed in the score as well as the book of words. \"Moses\" is in\nthe same case. By the time that Rubinstein had completed it he\nevidently realized that its hybrid character as well as its stupendous\nscope would stand in the way of performances of any kind. Before even a\nportion of its music had been heard in public, he wrote in a letter to\na friend: \"It is too theatrical for the concert-room and too much like\nan oratorio for the theatre. It is, in fact, the perfect type of the\nsacred opera that I have dreamed of for years. What will come of it I\ndo not know; I do not think it can be performed entire. As it contains\neight distinct parts, one or two may from time to time be given either\nin a concert or on the stage.\"\n\nAmerica was the first country to act on the suggestion of a fragmentary\nperformance. The first scene was brought forward in New York by Walter\nDamrosch at a public rehearsal and concert of the Symphony Society (the\nOratorio Society assisting) on January 18 and 19, 1889. The third scene\nwas performed by the German Liederkranz, under Reinhold L. Herman, on\nJanuary 27 of the same year. The third and fourth scenes were in the\nscheme of the Cincinnati Music Festival, Theodore Thomas, conductor, on\nMay 25,1894.\n\nEach of the eight scenes into which the work is divided deals with an\nepisode in the life of Israel's lawgiver. In the first scene we have\nthe incident of the finding of the child in the bulrushes; in the\nsecond occurs the oppression of the Israelites by the Egyptian\ntaskmasters, the slaying of one of the overseers by Moses, who, till\nthen regarded as the king's son, now proclaims himself one of the\noppressed race. The third scene discloses Moses protecting Zipporah,\ndaughter of Jethro, a Midianitish priest, from a band of marauding\nEdomites, his acceptance of Jethro's hospitality and the scene of the\nburning bush and the proclamation of his mission. Scene IV deals with\nthe plagues, those of blood, hail, locusts, frogs, and vermin being\ndelineated in the instrumental introduction to the part, the action\nbeginning while the land is shrouded in the \"thick darkness that might\nbe felt.\" The Egyptians call upon Osiris to dispel the darkness, but\nare forced at last to appeal to Moses. He demands the liberation of his\npeople as the price to be paid for the removal of the plague; receiving\na promise from Pharaoh, he utters a prayer ending with \"Let there be\nlight.\" The result is celebrated in a brilliant choral acclamation of\nthe returning sun. The scene has a parallel in Rossini's opera. Pharaoh\nnow equivocates; he will free the sons of Jacob, but not the women,\nchildren, or chattels. Moses threatens punishment in the death of all\nof Egypt's first-born, and immediately solo and chorus voices bewail\nthe new affliction. When the king hears that his son is dead he gives\nhis consent, and the Israelites depart with an ejaculation of thanks to\nJehovah. The passage of the Red Sea, Miriam's celebration of that\nmiracle, the backsliding of the Israelites and their worship of the\ngolden calf, the reception of the Tables of the Law, the battle between\nthe Israelites and Modbites on the threshold of the Promised Land, and\nthe evanishment and apotheosis of Moses are the contents of the\nremainder of the work.\n\n\n\nIt is scarcely to be wondered at that the subjects which opera\ncomposers have found adaptable to their uses in the New Testament are\nvery few compared with those offered by the Old. The books written by\nthe evangelists around the most stupendous tragical story of all time\nset forth little or nothing (outside of the birth, childhood,\nteachings, miracles, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth)\nwhich could by any literary ingenuity be turned into a stage play\nexcept the parables with which Christ enforced and illustrated His\nsermons. The sublime language and imagery of the Apocalypse have\nfurnished forth the textual body of many oratorios, but it still\ntranscends the capacity of mortal dramatist.\n\nIn the parable of the Prodigal Son there is no personage whose\npresentation in dramatic garb could be looked upon as a profanation of\nthe Scriptures. It is this fact, probably, coupled with its profoundly\nbeautiful reflection of human nature, which has made it a popular\nsubject with opera writers. There was an Italian \"Figliuolo Prodigo\" as\nearly as 1704, composed by one Biffi; a French melodrama, \"L'Enfant\nProdigue,\" by Morange about 1810; a German piece of similar character\nby Joseph Drechsler in Vienna in 1820. Pierre Gaveaux, who composed\n\"Leonore, ou l'Amour Conjugal,\" which provided Beethoven with his\n\"Fidelio,\" brought out a comic opera on the subject of the Prodigal Son\nin 1811, and Berton, who had also dipped into Old Testament story in an\noratorio, entitled \"Absalon,\" illustrated the parable in a ballet. The\nmost recent settings of the theme are also the most significant:\nAuber's five-act opera \"L'Enfant Prodigue,\" brought out in Paris in\n1850, and Ponchielli's \"Il Figliuolo Prodigo,\" in four acts, which had\nits first representation at La Scala in 1880.\n\nThe mediaeval mysteries were frequently interspersed with choral songs,\nfor which the liturgy of the Church provided material. If we choose to\nlook upon them as incipient operas or precursors of that art-form we\nmust yet observe that their monkish authors, willing enough to trick\nout the story of the Nativity with legendary matter drawn from the\nApocryphal New Testament, which discloses anything but a reverential\nattitude toward the sublime tragedy, nevertheless stood in such awe\nbefore the spectacle of Calvary that they deemed it wise to leave its\ndramatic treatment to the church service in the Passion Tide. In that\nservice there was something approaching to characterization in the\nmanner of the reading by the three deacons appointed to deliver,\nrespectively, the narrative, the words of Christ, and the utterances of\nthe Apostles and people; and it may be--that this and the liturgical\nsolemnities of Holy Week were reverently thought sufficient by them and\nthe authors of the first sacred operas. Nevertheless, we have Reiser's\n\"Der Blutige und Sterbende Jesus,\" performed at Hamburg, and\nMetastasio's \"La Passione di Gesu Christi,\" composed first by Caldara,\nwhich probably was an oratorio.\n\nEarlier than these was Theile's \"Die Geburt Christi,\" performed in\nHamburg in 1681. The birth of Christ and His childhood (there was an\noperatic representation of His presentation in the Temple) were\nsubjects which appealed more to the writers of the rude plays which\ncatered to the popular love for dramatic mummery than did His\ncrucifixion. I am speaking now more specifically of lyric dramas, but\nit is worthy of note that in the Coventry mysteries, as Hone points out\nin the preface to his book, \"Ancient Mysteries Described,\" [Footnote:\n\"Ancient Mysteries Described, especially the English Miracle Plays\nFounded on Apocryphal New Testament Story,\" London, 1823.] there are\neight plays, or pageants, which deal with the Nativity as related in\nthe canon and the pseudo-gospels. In them much stress was laid upon the\nsuspicions of the Virgin Mother's chastity, for here was material that\nwas good for rude diversion as well as instruction in righteousness.\n\n\n\nThat Rubinstein dared to compose a Christ drama must be looked upon as\nproof of the profound sincerity of his belief in the art-form which he\nfondly hoped he had created; also, perhaps, as evidence of his artistic\ningenuousness. Only a brave or naive mind could have calmly\ncontemplated a labor from which great dramatists, men as great as\nHebbel, shrank back in alarm. After the completion of \"Lohengrin\"\nWagner applied himself to the creation of a tragedy which he called\n\"Jesus of Nazareth.\" We know his plan in detail, but he abandoned it\nafter he had offered his sketches to a French poet as the basis of a\nlyric drama which he hoped to write for Paris. He confesses that he was\ncurious to know what the Frenchman would do with a work the stage\nproduction of which would \"provoke a thousand frights.\" He himself was\nunwilling to stir up such a tempest in Germany; instead, he put his\nsketches aside and used some of their material in his \"Parsifal.\"\n\nWagner ignored the religious, or, let us say, the ecclesiastical, point\nof view entirely in \"Jesus of Nazareth.\" His hero was to have been, as\nI have described him elsewhere, [Footnote: \"A Book of Operas,\" p. 288.]\n\"a human philosopher who preached the saving grace of Love and sought\nto redeem his time and people from the domination of conventional\nlaw--the offspring of selfishness. His philosophy was socialism imbued\nby love.\" Rubinstein proceeded along the lines of history, or orthodox\nbelief, as unreservedly in his \"Christus\" as he had done in his\n\"Moses.\" The work may be said to have brought his creative activities\nto a close, although two compositions (a set of six pianoforte pieces\nand an orchestral suite) appear in his list of numbered works after the\nsacred opera. He died on November 20, 1894, without having seen a stage\nrepresentation of it. Nor did he live to see a public theatrical\nperformance of his \"Moses,\" though he was privileged to witness a\nprivate performance arranged at the German National Theatre in Prague\nso that he might form an opinion of its effectiveness. The public has\nnever been permitted to learn anything about the impression which the\nwork made.\n\nOn May 25, 1895, a series of representations of \"Christus\" was begun in\nBremen, largely through the instrumentality of Professor Bulthaupt, a\npotent and pervasive personage in the old Hanseatic town. He was not\nonly a poet and the author of the book of this opera and of some of\nBruch's works, but also a painter, and his mural decorations in the\nBremen Chamber of Commerce are proudly displayed by the citizens of the\ntown. It was under the supervision of the painter-poet that the Bremen\nrepresentations were given and, unless I am mistaken, he painted the\nscenery or much of it. One of the provisions of the performances was\nthat applause was prohibited out of reverence for the sacred character\nof the scenes, which were as frankly set forth as at Oberammergau. The\ncontents of the tragedy in some scenes and an epilogue briefly outlined\nare these: The first scene shows the temptation of Christ in the\nwilderness, where the devil \"shewed unto him all the kingdoms of the\nworld in a moment of time.\" This disclosure is made by a series of\nscenes, each opening for a short time in the background--castles,\npalaces, gardens, mountains of gold, and massive heaps of earth's\ntreasures. In the second scene John the Baptist is seen and heard\npreaching on the banks of the Jordan, in whose waters he baptizes\nJesus. This scene at the Bremen representations was painted from\nsketches made by Herr Handrich in Palestine, as was also that of the\n\"Sermon on the Mount\" and \"The Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes,\" which\nform the subject of the next part. The fourth tableau shows the\nexpulsion of the money changers from the Temple; the fifth the Last\nSupper, with the garden of Gethsemane as a background; the sixth the\ntrial and the last the crucifixion. Here, as if harking back to his\n\"Tower of Babel,\" Rubinstein brings in pictures of heaven and hell,\nwith angels and devils contemplating the catastrophe. The proclamation\nof the Gospel to the Gentiles by St. Paul is the subject of the\nepilogue.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\"SAMSON ET DALILA\"\n\n\nThere are but two musical works based on the story of Samson on the\ncurrent list to-day, Handel's oratorio and Saint-Saens's opera; but\nlyric drama was still in its infancy when the subject first took hold\nof the fancy of composers and it has held it ever since. The earliest\nworks were of the kind called sacred operas in the books and are spoken\nof as oratorios now, though they were doubtless performed with scenery\nand costumes and with action of a sort. Such were \"Il Sansone\" by\nGiovanni Paola Colonna (Bologna, 1677), \"Sansone accecato da Filistri\"\nby Francesco Antonio Uri (Venice, about 1700), \"Simson\" by Christoph\nGraupner (Hamburg, 1709), \"Simson\" by Georg von Pasterwitz (about\n1770), \"Samson\" by J. N. Lefroid Mereaux (Paris, 1774), \"Simson\" by\nJohann Heinrich Rolle (about 1790), \"Simson\" by Franz Tuczek (Vienna,\n1804), and \"Il Sansone\" by Francesco Basili (Naples, 1824). Two French\noperas are associated with great names and have interesting histories.\nVoltaire wrote a dramatic text on the subject at the request of La\nPopeliniere, the farmer-general, who, as poet, musician, and artist,\nexercised a tremendous influence in his day. Rameau was in his service\nas household clavecinist and set Voltaire's poem. The authors looked\nforward to a production on the stage of the Grand Opera, where at least\ntwo Biblical operas, an Old Testament \"Jephte\" and a New Testament\n\"Enfant prodigue\" were current; but Rameau had powerful enemies, and\nthe opera was prohibited on the eve of the day on which it was to have\nbeen performed. The composer had to stomach his mortification as best\nhe could; he put some of his Hebrew music into the service of his\nPersian \"Zoroastre\". The other French Samson to whom I have re ferred\nhad also to undergo a sea-change like unto Rameau's, Rossini's Moses,\nand Verdi's Nebuchadnezzar. Duprez, who was ambitious to shine as a\ncomposer as well as a singer (he wrote no less than eight operas and\nalso an oratorio, \"The Last Judgment\"), tried his hand on a Samson\nopera and succeeded in enlisting the help of Dumas the elder in writing\nthe libretto. When he was ready to present it at the door of the Grand\nOpera the Minister of Fine Arts told him that it was impracticable, as\nthe stage-setting of the last act alone would cost more than 100,000\nfrancs, Duprez then followed the example set with Rossini's \"Mose\" in\nLondon and changed the book to make it tell a story of the crusades\nwhich he called \"Zephora\". Nevertheless the original form was restored\nin German and Italian translations of the work, and it had concert\nperformances in 1857. To Joachim Raff was denied even this poor\ncomfort. He wrote a German \"Simson\" between 1851 and 1857. The\nconductor at Darmstadt to whom it was first submitted rejected it on\nthe ground that it was too difficult for his singers. Raff then gave it\nto Liszt, with whom he was sojourning at Weimar, and who had taken pity\non his \"Konig Alfred\"; but the tenor singer at the Weimar opera said\nthe music was too high for the voice. Long afterward Wagner's friend,\nSchnorr von Carolsfeld, saw the score in the hands of the composer. The\nheroic stature of the hero delighted him, and his praise moved Raff to\nrevise the opera; but before this had been done Schnorr died of the\ncold contracted while creating the role of Wagner's Tristan at Munich\nin 1865. Thus mournfully ended the third episode. As late as 1882 Raff\nspoke of taking the opera in hand again, but though he may have done so\nhis death found the work unperformed and it has not yet seen the light\nof the stage-lamps.\n\nSaint-Saens's opera has also passed through many vicissitudes, but has\nsuccumbed to none and is probably possessed of more vigorous life now\nthan it ever had. It is the recognized operatic masterpiece of the most\nresourceful and fecund French musician since Berlioz. Saint-Saens began\nthe composition of \"Samson et Dalila\" in 1869. The author of the book,\nFerdinand Lemaire, was a cousin of the composer. Before the breaking\nout of the Franco-Prussian War the score was so far on the way to\ncompletion that it was possible to give its second act a private trial.\nThis was done, an incident of the occasion-which afterward introduced\none element of pathos in its history-being the singing of the part of\nSamson by the painter Henri Regnault, who soon after lost his life in\nthe service of his country. A memorial to him and the friendship which\nexisted between him and the composer is the \"Marche Heroique,\" which\nbears the dead man's name on its title-page. Toward the end of 1872 the\nopera was finished. For two years the score rested in the composer's\ndesk. Then the second act was again brought forth for trial, this time\nat the country home of Mme. Viardot, at Croissy, the illustrious\nhostess singing the part of Dalila. In 1875 the first act was performed\nin concert style by M. Edouard Colonne in Paris. Liszt interested\nhimself in the opera and secured its acceptance at the Grand Ducal\nOpera House of Weimar, where Eduard Lassen brought it out on December\n2, 1877. Brussels heard it in 1878; but it did not reach one of the\ntheatres of France until March 3, 1890, when Rouen produced it at its\nTheatre des Arts under the direction of M. Henri Verdhurt. It took\nnearly seven months more to reach Paris, where the first representation\nwas at the Eden Theatre on October 31 of the same year. Two years\nlater, after it had been heard in a number of French and Italian\nprovincial theatres, it was given at the Academie Nationale de Musique\nunder the direction of M. Colonne. The part of Dalila was taken by Mme.\nDeschamps-Jehin, that of Samson by M. Vergnet, that of the High Priest\nby M. Lassalle. Eight months before this it had been performed as an\noratorio by the Oratorio Society of New York. There were two\nperformances, on March 25 and 26, 1892, the conductor being Mr. Walter\nDamrosch and the principal singers being Frau Marie Ritter-Goetze,\nSebastian Montariol, H. E. Distelhurst, Homer Moore, Emil Fischer, and\nPurdon Robinson. London had heard the work twice as an oratorio before\nit had a stage representation there on April 26, 1909, but this\nperformance was fourteen years later than the first at the Metropolitan\nOpera House on February 8, 1895. The New York performance was\nscenically inadequate, but the integrity of the record demands that the\ncast be given here: Samson, Signor Tamagno; Dalila, Mme. Mantelli; High\nPriest, Signor Campanari; Abimelech and An Old Hebrew, M. Plancon;\nFirst Philistine, Signor Rinaldini; Second Philistme, Signor de\nVachetti; conductor, Signor Mancinelli. The Metropolitan management did\nnot venture upon a repetition until the opening night of the season\n1915-1916, when its success was such that it became an active factor in\nthe repertory of the establishment; but by that time it had been made\nfairly familiar to the New York public by performances at the Manhattan\nOpera House under the management of Mr. Oscar Hammerstein, the first of\nwhich took place on November 13, 1908. Signor Campanini conducted and\nthe cast embraced Mme. Gerville-Reache as Dalila, Charles Dalmores as\nSamson, and M. Dufranne as High Priest. The cast at the Metropolitan\nOpera House's revival of the opera on November 15,1915, was as follows:\nDalila, Mme. Margarete Matzenauer; Samson, Signor Enrico Caruso; High\nPriest, Signor Pasquale Amato; Abimelech, Herr Carl Schlegel; An Old\nHebrew, M. Leon Rothier; A Philistine Messenger, Herr Max Bloch; First\nPhilistine, Pietro Audisio; Second Philistine, Vincenzo Reschiglian;\nconductor, Signor Polacco.\n\n\n\nIt would be a curious inquiry to try to determine the source of the\nfascination which the story of Manoah's son has exerted upon mankind\nfor centuries. It bears a likeness to the story of the son of Zeus and\nAlcmene, and there are few books on mythology which do not draw a\nparallel between the two heroes. Samson's story is singularly brief.\nFor twenty years he \"judged Israel,\" but the Biblical history which\ndeals with him consists only of an account of his birth, a recital of\nthe incidents in which he displayed his prodigious strength and valor,\nthe tale of his amours, and, at the end, the account of his tragical\ndestruction, brought about by the weak element in his character.\n\nCommentators have been perplexed by the tale, irrespective of the\nadornments which it has received at the hands of the Talmudists. Is\nSamson a Hebrew form of the conception personified by the Greek\nHerakles? Is he a mythical creature, born in the human imagination of\nprimitive nature worship--a variant of the Tyrian sun-god Shemesh,\nwhose name his so curiously resembles? [In Hebrew he is called\nShimshon, and the sun shemesh.] Was he something more than a man of\nextraordinary physical strength and extraordinary moral weakness, whose\npatriotic virtues and pathetic end have kept his memory alive through\nthe ages? Have a hundred generations of men to whom the story of\nHerakles has appeared to be only a fanciful romance, the product of\nthat imagination heightened by religion which led the Greeks to exalt\ntheir supreme heroes to the extent of deification, persisted in hearing\nand telling the story of Samson with a sympathetic interest which\nbetrays at least a sub-conscious belief in its verity? Is the story\nonly a parable enforcing a moral lesson which is as old as humanity? If\nso, how got it into the canonical Book of Judges, which, with all its\nmythical and legendary material, seems yet to contain a large\nsubstratum of unquestionable history?\n\nThere was nothing of the divine essence in Samson as the Hebrews\nconceived him, except that spirit of God with which he was directly\nendowed in supreme crises. There is little evidence of his possession\nof great wisdom, but strong proof of his moral and religious laxity. He\nsinned against the laws of Israel's God when he took a Philistine\nwoman, an idolater, to wife; he sinned against the moral law when he\nvisited the harlot at Gaza. He was wofully weak in character when he\nyielded to the blandishments of Delilah and wrought his own undoing, as\nwell as that of his people. The disgraceful slavery into which Herakles\nfell was not caused by the hero's incontinence or uxoriousness, but a\npunishment for crime, in that he had in a fit of madness killed his\nfriend Iphitus. And the three years which he spent as the slave of\nOmphale were punctuated by larger and better deeds than those of Samson\nin like situation--bursting the new cords with which the men of Judah\nhad bound him and the green withes and new ropes with which Delilah\nshackled him. The record that Samson \"judged Israel in the days of the\nPhilistines twenty years\" leads the ordinary reader to think of him as\na sage, judicial personage, whereas it means only that he was the\npolitical and military leader of his people during that period, lifted\nto a magisterial position by his strength and prowess in war. His\nachievements were muscular, not mental.\n\nRabbinical legends have magnified his stature and power in precisely\nthe same manner as the imagination of the poet of the \"Lay of the\nNibelung\" magnified the stature and strength of Siegfried. His\nshoulders, says the legend, were sixty ells broad; when the Spirit of\nGod came on him he could step from Zorah to Eshtaol although he was\nlame in both feet; the hairs of his head arose and clashed against one\nanother so that they could be heard for a like distance; he was so\nstrong that he could uplift two mountains and rub them together like\ntwo clods of earth, Herakles tore asunder the mountain which, divided,\nnow forms the Straits of Gibraltar and Gates of Hercules.\n\nThe parallel which is frequently drawn between Samson and Herakles\ncannot be pursued far with advantage to the Hebrew hero. Samson rent a\nyoung lion on the road to Timnath, whither he was going to take his\nPhilistine wife; Herakles, while still a youthful herdsman, slew the\nThespian lion and afterward strangled the Nemean lion with his hands.\nSamson carried off the gates of Gaza and bore them to the top of a hill\nbefore Hebron; Herakles upheld the heavens while Atlas went to fetch\nthe golden apples of Hesperides. Moreover, the feats of Herakles show a\nhigher intellectual quality than those of Samson, all of which, save\none, were predominantly physical. The exception was the trick of tying\n300 foxes by their tails, two by two, with firebrands between and\nturning them loose to burn the corn of the Philistines. An ingenious\nway to spread a conflagration, probably, but primitive, decidedly\nprimitive. Herakles was a scientific engineer of the modern school; he\nyoked the rivers Alpheus and Peneus to his service by turning their\nwaters through the Augean stables and cleansing them of the deposits of\n3000 oxen for thirty years. Herakles had excellent intellectual\ntraining; Rhadamanthus taught him wisdom and virtue, Linus music. We\nknow nothing about the bringing up of Samson save that \"the child grew\nand the Lord blessed him. And the Lord began to move him at times in\nthe camp of Dan between Zorah and Eshtaol.\" Samson made little use of\nhis musical gifts, if he had any, but that little he made well;\nHerakles made little use of his musical training, and that little he\nmade ill. He lost his temper and killed his music master with his lute;\nSamson, after using an implement which only the black slaves of our\nSouth have treated as a musical instrument, to slay a thousand\nPhilistines, jubilated in song:--\n\n    With the jawbone of an ass\n      Heaps upon heaps!\n    With the jawbone of an ass\n      Have I slain a thousand men!\n\n\nThe vast fund of human nature laid bare in the story of Samson is, it\nappears to me, quite sufficient to explain its popularity, and account\nfor its origin. The hero's virtues--strength, courage, patriotism--are\nthose which have ever won the hearts of men, and they present\nthemselves as but the more admirable, as they are made to appear more\nnatural, by pairing with that amiable weakness, susceptibility to\nwoman's charms.\n\nAfter all Samson is a true type of the tragic hero, whatever Dr.\nChrysander or another may say. He is impelled by Fate into a commission\nof the follies which bring about the wreck of his body. His marriage\nwith the Philistine woman in Timnath was part of a divine plot, though\nunpatriotic and seemingly impious. When his father said unto him: \"Is\nthere never a woman among the daughters of thy brethren or among all my\npeople that thou goest to take a wife of the uncircumcised\nPhilistines?\" he did not know that \"it was of the Lord that he sought\nan occasion against the Philistines.\" Out of that wooing and winning\ngrew the first of the encounters which culminated in the destruction of\nthe temple of Dagon, when \"the dead which he slew at his death were\nmore than they which he slew in his life.\" So his yielding to the\npleadings of his wife when she betrayed the answer to his riddle and\nhis succumbing to the wheedling arts of Delilah when he betrayed the\nsecret of his strength (acts incompatible with the character of an\nordinary strong and wise man) were of the type essential to the\nmachinery of the Greek drama.\n\nA word about the mythological interpretation of the characters which\nhave been placed in parallel: It may be helpful to an understanding of\nthe Hellenic mind to conceive Herakles as a marvellously strong man,\nfirst glorified into a national hero and finally deified. So, too, the\ntheory, that Herakles sinking down upon his couch of fire is but a\nsymbol of the declining sun can be entertained without marring the\ngrandeur of the hero or belittling Nature's phenomenon; but it would\nobscure our understanding of the Hebrew intellect and profane the\nHebrew religion to conceive Samson as anything but the man that the\nBible says he was; while to make of him, as Ignaz Golziher suggests, a\nsymbol of the setting sun whose curly locks (crines Phoebi) are sheared\nby Delilah-Night, would bring contumely upon one of the most beautiful\nand impressive of Nature's spectacles. Before the days of comparative\nmythology scholars were not troubled by such interpretations. Josephus\ndisposes of the Delilah episode curtly: \"As for Samson being ensnared\nby a woman, that is to be ascribed to human nature, which is too weak\nto resist sin.\"\n\n\n\nIt is not often that an operatic figure invites to such a study as that\nwhich I have attempted in the case of Samson, and it may be that the\nside-wise excursion in which I have indulged invites criticism of the\nkind illustrated in the metaphor of using a club to brain a gnat. But I\ndo not think so. If heroic figures seem small on the operatic stage, it\nis the fault of either the author or the actor. When genius in a\ncreator is paired with genius in an interpreter, the hero of an opera\nis quite as deserving of analytical study as the hero of a drama which\nis spoken. No labor would be lost in studying the character of Wagner's\nheroes in order to illuminate the impersonations of Niemann, Lehmann,\nor Scaria; nor is Maurel's lago less worthy of investigation than Edwin\nBooth's.\n\nThe character of Delilah presents even more features of interest than\nthat of the man of whom she was the undoing, and to those features I\npurpose to devote some attention presently.\n\nThere is no symbolism in Saint-Saens's opera. It is frankly a piece for\nthe lyric theatre, albeit one in which adherence to a plot suggested by\nthe Biblical story compelled a paucity of action which had to be made\ngood by spectacle and music. The best element in a drama being that\nwhich finds expression in action and dialogue, and these being\nrestricted by the obvious desire of the composers to avoid such\nextraneous matter as Rossini and others were wont to use to add\ninterest to their Biblical operas (the secondary love stories, for\ninstance), Saint-Saens could do nothing else than employ liberally the\nsplendid factor of choral music which the oratorio form brought to his\nhand.\n\nWe are introduced to that factor without delay. Even before the first\nscene is opened to our eyes we hear the voice of the multitude in\nprayer. The Israelites, oppressed by their conquerors and sore stricken\nat the reflection that their God has deserted them, lament, accuse,\nprotest, and pray. Before they have been heard, the poignancy of their\nwoe has been published by the orchestra, which at once takes its place\nbeside the chorus as a peculiarly eloquent expositor of the emotions\nand passions which propel the actors in the drama. That mission and\nthat eloquence it maintains from the beginning to the final\ncatastrophe, the instrumental band doing its share toward\ncharacterizing the opposing forces, emphasizing the solemn dignity of\nthe Hebrew religion and contrasting it with the sensuous and sensual\nfrivolity of the worshippers of Dagon. The choral prayer has for its\ninstrumental substructure an obstinate syncopated figure,\n\n[figure: an musical score excerpt]\n\nwhich rises with the agonized cries of the people and sinks with their\nutterances of despair. The device of introducing voices before the\ndisclosure of visible action in an opera is not new, and in this case\nis both uncalled for and ineffective. Gounod made a somewhat similar\neffort in his \"Romeo et Juliette,\" where a costumed group of singers\npresents a prologue, vaguely visible through a gauze curtain. Meyerbeer\ntried the expedient in \"Le Pardon de Ploermel,\" and the siciliano in\nMascagni's \"Cavalleria Rusticana\" and the prologue in Leoncavallo's\n\"Pagliacci\" are other cases in point. Of these only the last can be\nsaid to achieve its purpose in arresting the early attention of the\naudience. When the curtain opens we see a public place in Gaza in front\nof the temple of Dagon. The Israelites are on their knees and in\nattitudes of mourning, among them Samson. The voice of lamentation\ntakes a fugal form--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nas the oppressed people tell of the sufferings which they have\nendured:--\n\n    Nous avons vu nos cites renversees\n    Et les gentils profanants ton autel, etc.\n\n\nThe expression rises almost to the intensity of sacrilegious accusation\nas the people recall to God the vow made to them in Egypt, but sinks to\naccents of awe when they reflect upon the incidents of their former\nserfdom. Now Samson stands forth. In a broad arioso, half recitative,\nhalf cantilena, wholly in the oratorio style when it does not drop into\nthe mannerism of Meyerbeerian opera, he admonishes his brethren of\ntheir need to trust in God, their duty to worship Him, of His promises\nto aid them, of the wonders that He had already wrought in their\nbehalf; he bids them to put off their doubts and put on their armor of\nfaith and valor. As he proceeds in his preachment he develops somewhat\nof the theatrical pose of John of Leyden in \"The Prophet.\" The\nIsraelites mutter gloomily of the departure of their days of glory, but\ngradually take warmth from the spirit which has obsessed Samson and\npledge themselves to do battle with the foe with him under the guidance\nof Jehovah.\n\nNow Abimelech, Satrap of Gaza, appears surrounded by Philistine\nsoldiers. He rails at the Israelites as slaves, sneers at their God as\nimpotent and craven, lifts up the horn of Dagon, who, he says, shall\npursue Jehovah as a falcon pursues a dove. The speech fills Samson with\na divine anger, which bursts forth in a canticle of prayer and\nprophecy. There is a flash as of swords in the scintillant scale\npassages which rush upward from the eager, angry, pushing figure which\nmutters and rages among the instruments. The Israelites catch fire from\nSamson's ecstatic ardor and echo the words in which he summons them to\nbreak their chains. Abimelech rushes forward to kill Samson, but the\nhero wrenches the sword from the Philistine's hand and strikes him\ndead. The satrap's soldiers would come to his aid, but are held in fear\nby the hero, who is now armed. The Israelites rush off to make war on\ntheir oppressors. The High Priest comes down from the temple of Dagon\nand pauses where the body of Abimelech lies. Two Philistines tell of\nthe fear which had paralyzed them when Samson showed his might. The\nHigh Priest rebukes them roundly for their cowardice, but has scarcely\nuttered his denunciation before a Messenger enters to tell him that\nSamson and his Israelitish soldiers have overrun and ravaged the\ncountry. Curses and vows of vengeance against Israel, her hero, and her\nGod from the mouth of Dagon's servant. One of his imprecations is\ndestined to be fulfilled:--\n\n    Maudit soit le sein de la femme\n      Qui lui donna le jour!\n    Qu'enfin une compagne infame\n      Trahisse son amour!\n\n\nRevolutions run a rapid course in operatic Palestine. The insurrection\nis but begun with the slaying of Abimelech, yet as the Philistines,\nbearing away his body, leave the scene, it is only to make room for the\nIsraelites, chanting of their victory. We expect a sonorous hymn of\ntriumph, but the people of God have been chastened and awed by their\nquick deliverance, and their paean is in the solemn tone of temple\npsalmody, the first striking bit of local color which the composer has\nintroduced into his score--a reticence on his part of which it may be\nsaid that it is all the more remarkable from the fact that local color\nis here completely justified:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt, sung to the words \"Praise, ye\nJehovah! Tell all the wondrous story! Psalms of praise loudly swell!]\n\n    \"Hymne de joie, hymne de deliverance\n      Montez vers l'Eternel!\"\n\n\nIt is a fine piece of dramatic characterization; which is followed by\none whose serene beauty is heightened by contrast. Dalila and a company\nof singing and dancing Philistine women come in bearing garlands of\nflowers. Not only Samson's senses, our own as well, are ravished by the\ndelightful music:--\n\n    Voici le printemps, nous portant des fleurs\n    Pour orner le front des guerriers vainquers!\n    Melons nos accents aux parfums des roses\n                 A peine ecloses!\n       Avec l'oiseau chantons, mes soeurs!\n\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt sung to the words \"Now Spring's\ngenerous band, Brings flowers to the land\"]\n\nDalila is here and it is become necessary to say something of her,\nhaving said so much about the man whose destruction she accomplished.\nLet the ingenious and erudite Philip Hale introduce her: \"Was Delilah a\npatriotic woman, to be ranked with Jael and Judith, or was she merely a\ncourtesan, as certain opera singers who impersonate her in the opera\nseem to think? E. Meier says that the word 'Delilah' means 'the\nfaithless one.' Ewald translates it 'traitress,' and so does Ranke.\nKnobel characterizes her as 'die Zarte,' which means tender, delicate,\nbut also subtle. Lange is sure that she was a weaver woman, if not an\nout-and-out 'zonah.' There are other Germans who think the word is akin\nto the verb 'einlullen,' to lull asleep. Some liken it to the Arabic\ndalilah, a woman who misguides, a bawd. See in 'The Thousand Nights and\na Night' the speech of the damsel to Aziz: 'If thou marry me thou wilt\nat least be safe from the daughter of Dalilah, the Wily One.' Also 'The\nRogueries of Dalilah, the Crafty, and her daughter, Zayrah, the Coney\nCatcher.'\"\n\nWe are directly concerned here with the Dalila of the opera, but Mr.\nHale invites us to an excursion which offers a pleasant occupation for\na brief while, and we cheerfully go with him. The Biblical Delilah is a\nvague figure, except in two respects: She is a woman of such charms\nthat she wins the love of Samson, and such guile and cupidity that she\nplays upon his passion and betrays him to the lords of the Philistines\nfor pay. The Bible knows nothing of her patriotism, nor does the sacred\nhistorian give her the title of Samson's wife, though it has long been\nthe custom of Biblical commentators to speak of her in this relation.\nSt. Chrysostom set the fashion and Milton followed it:--\n\n    But who is this? What thing of sea or land--\n    Female of sex it seems--\n    That, so bedeck'd, ornate and gay\n    Comes this way sailing\n    Like a stately ship\n    Of Tarsus, bound for the isles\n    Of Javan or Gadire,\n    With all her bravery on, and tackle trim,\n    Sails fill'd and streamers waving,\n    Courted by all the winds that hold them play;\n    An amber scent of odorous perfume--\n    Her harbinger, a damsel train behind?\n    Some rich Philistian matron she may seem;\n    And now, at nearer view, no other certain\n    Than Dalila, thy wife.\n\n\nIt cannot be without significance that the author of the story in the\nBook of Judges speaks in a different way of each of the three women who\nplay a part in the tragedy of Samson's life. The woman who lived among\nthe vineyards of Timnath, whose murder Samson avenged, was his wife.\nShe was a Philistine, but Samson married her according to the\nconventional manner of the time and, also according to the manner of\nthe time, she kept her home with her parents after her marriage.\nWherefore she has gotten her name in the good books of the sociological\nphilosophers who uphold the matronymic theory touching early society.\nThe woman of Gaza whom Samson visited what time he confounded his\nwould-be captors by carrying off the doors of the gates of the city was\ncurtly \"an harlot.\" Of the third woman it is said only that it came to\npass that Samson \"loved a woman in the Valley of Sorek, whose name was\nDelilah.\" Thereupon follows the story of her bribery by the lords of\nthe Philistines and her betrayal of her lover. Evidently a licentious\nwoman who could not aspire even to the merit of the heroine of Dekker's\nplay.\n\nMilton not only accepted the theory of her wifehood, but also\nattributed patriotic motives to her. She knew that her name would be\ndefamed \"in Dan, in Judah and the bordering tribes.\"\n\n    But in my country, where I most desire,\n    In Eeron, Gaza, Asdod and in Gath,\n    I shall be nam'd among the famousest\n    Of women, sung at solemn festivals,\n    Living and dead recorded, who to save\n    Her country from a fierce destroyer, chose\n    Above the faith of wedlock bands; my tomb\n    With odours visited and annual flowers;\n    Not less renown'd than in Mount Ephraim\n    Jael, who, with inhospitable guile,\n    Smote Sisera sleeping.\n\n\nIn the scene before us Dalila is wholly and simply a siren, a\nseductress who plays upon the known love of Samson from motives which\nare not disclosed. As yet one may imagine her moved by a genuine\npassion. She turns her lustrous black eyes upon him as she hails him a\ndouble victor over his foes and her heart, and invites him to rest from\nhis arms in her embraces in the fair valley of Sorek. Temptation seizes\nupon the soul of Samson. He prays God to make him steadfast; but she\nwinds her toils the tighter: It is for him that she has bound a coronet\nof purple grapes upon her forehead and entwined the rose of Sharon in\nher ebon tresses. An Old Hebrew warns against the temptress and Samson\nagonizingly invokes a veil over the beauty that has enchained him.\n\n\"Extinguish the fires of those eyes which enslave me.\"--thus he.\n\n\"Sweet is the lily of the valley, pleasant the juices of mandragora,\nbut sweeter and more pleasant are my kisses!\"--thus she.\n\nThe Old Hebrew warns again: \"If thou give ear to her honeyed phrases,\nmy son, curses will alight on thee which no tears that thou may'st weep\nwill ever efface.\"\n\nBut still the siren song rings in his ears. The maidens who had come\nupon the scene with Dalila (are they priestesses of Dagon?) dance,\nswinging their floral garlands seductively before the eyes of Samson\nand his followers. The hero tries to avoid the glances which Dalila,\njoining in the dance, throws upon him. It is in vain; his eyes follow\nher through all the voluptuous postures and movements of the dance.\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nAnd Dalila sings \"Printemps qui commence\"--a song often heard in\nconcert-rooms, but not so often as the air with which the love-duet in\nthe second act reaches its culmination, which is popularly held also to\nmark the climax of the opera. That song is wondrously insinuating in\nits charm; it pulsates with passion, so much so, indeed, that it is\ndifficult to conceive that its sentiments are feigned, but this is\nlovelier in its fresh, suave, graceful, and healthy beauty:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt, sung to the words \"The Spring with\nher dower of bird and flower, brings hope in her train.\"]\n\nAs Dalila leaves the scene her voice and eyes repeat their lure, while\nSamson's looks and acts betray the trouble of his soul.\n\nIt is not until we see and hear Dalila in the second act that she is\nrevealed to us in her true character. Not till now does she disclose\nthe motives of her conduct toward her lover. Night is falling in the\nvalley of Sorek, the vale which lies between the hill country which the\nIsraelites entered from the East, and the coast land which the\nPhilistines, supposedly an island people, invaded from the West.\nDalila, gorgeously apparelled, is sitting on a rock near the portico of\nher house. The strings of the orchestra murmur and the chromatic figure\nwhich we shall hear again in her love-song coos in the wood-winds:\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nShe awaits him whom passion has made her slave in full confidence of\nher hold upon him.\n\n    Samson, recherchant ma presence,\n    Ce soir doit venir en ces lieux.\n    Voici l'heure de la vengeance\n    Qui doit satisfaire nos dieux!\n\n    Amour! viens aider ma faiblesse!\n\nThe vengeance of her gods shall be glutted; it is to that end she\ninvokes the power of love to strengthen her weakness. A passion like\nhis will not down--that she knows. To her comes the High Priest:\nSamson's strength, he says, is supernatural and flows from a vow with\nwhich he was consecrated to effect the glory of Israel. Once while he\nlay in her arms that strength had deserted him, but now, it is said, he\nflouts her love and doubts his own passion. There is no need to try to\nawaken\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\njealousy in the heart of Dalila; she hates Samson more bitterly than\nthe leader of his enemies. She is not mercenary, like the Biblical\nwoman; she scorns the promise of riches which the High Priest offers so\nshe obtain the secret of the Hebrew's strength. Thrice had she essayed\nto learn that secret and thrice had he set her spell at naught. Now she\nwill assail him with tears--a woman's weapon.\n\nThe rumblings of thunder are heard; the scene is lit up by flashes of\nlightning. Running before the storm, which is only a precursor and a\nsymbol of the tempest which is soon to rend his soul, Samson comes.\nDalila upbraids her lover, rebukes his fears, protests her grief.\nSamson cannot withstand her tears. He confesses his love, but he must\nobey the will of a higher power. \"What god is mightier than Love?\" Let\nhim but doubt her constancy and she will die. And she plays her trump\ncard: \"Mon coeur s'ouvre a ta voix,\" while the fluttering strings and\ncooing wood-winds insinuate themselves into the crevices of Samson's\nmoral harness and loosen the rivets that hold it together:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt to the words \"My heart, at thy dear\nvoice\"]\n\nHerein lies the strength and the weakness of music: it must fain be\ntruthful. Dalila's words may be hypocritical, but the music speaks the\nspeech of genuine passion. Not until we hear the refrain echoed\nmockingly in the last scene of the drama can we believe that the\npassion hymned in this song is feigned. And we almost deplore hat the\ncomposer put it to such disgraceful use. Samson hears the voice of his\nGod in the growing and again hesitates. The storm bursts as Dalila\nshrieks out the hate that fills her and runs toward her dwelling.\n\nBeethoven sought to suggest external as well as internal peace in the\n\"Dona nobis\" of his Mass in D by mingling the sounds of war with the\nprayer for peace; Saint-Saens pictures the storm in nature and in\nSamson's soul by the music which accompanies the hero as he raises his\nhands mutely in prayer; then follows the temptress with faltering steps\nand enters her dwelling. The tempest reaches its climax; Dalila appears\nat the window with a shout to the waiting Philistine soldiery below.\nThe voice of Samson cuts through the stormy night: \"Trahison!\"\n\nAct III.--First scene: A prison in Gaza. Samson, shorn of his flowing\nlocks, which as a Nazarite he had vowed should never be touched by\nshears, labors at the mill. He has been robbed of his eyes and darkness\nhas settled down upon him; darkness, too, upon the people whom his\nmomentary weakness had given back into slavery.\n\n\"Total eclipse!\" Saint-Saens has won our admiration for the solemn\ndignity with which he has invested the penitent confession of the blind\nhero. But who shall hymn the blindness of Manoah's son after Milton and\nHandel? From a crowd of captive Hebrews outside the prison walls come\ntaunting accusations, mingled with supplications to God. We recognize\nagain the national mood of the psalmody of the first act. The entire\nscene is finely conceived. It is dramatic in a lofty sense, for its\naction plays on the stage of the heart. Samson, contrite, humble,\nbroken in spirit, with a prayer for his people's deliverance, is led\naway to be made sport of in the temple of Dagon. There, before the\nstatue of the god, grouped among the columns and before the altar the\nHigh Priest and the lords of the Philistines. Dalila, too, with maidens\nclad for the lascivious dance, and the multitude of Philistia. The\nwomen's choral song to spring which charmed us in the first act is\nechoed by mixed voices. The ballet which follows is a prettily exotic\none, with an introductory cadence marked by the Oriental scale, out of\nwhich the second dance melody is constructed--a scale which has the\npeculiarity of an interval composed of three semitones, and which we\nknow from the song of the priestesses in Verdi's \"Aida\":--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nThe High Priest makes mock of the Judge of Israel: Let him empty the\nwine cup and sing the praise of his vanquisher! Dalila, in the pride of\nher triumph, tauntingly tells him how simulated love had been made to\nserve her gods, her hate, and her nation. Samson answers only in\ncontrite prayer. Together in canonic imitation (the erudite form does\nnot offend, but only gives dignity to the scene) priest and siren offer\na libation on the altar of the Fish god.\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nThe flames flash upward from the altar. Now a supreme act of insolent\nimpiety; Samson, too, shall sacrifice to Dagon. A boy is told to lead\nhim where all can witness his humiliation. Samson feels that the time\nfor retribution upon his enemies is come. He asks to be led between the\nmarble pillars that support the roof of the temple. Priests and people,\nthe traitress and her dancing women, the lords of the Philistines, the\nrout of banqueters and worshippers--all hymn the praise of Dagon. A\nbrief supplication to Israel's God--\n\n\"And Samson took hold of the two middle pillars upon which the house\nstood and on which it was borne up, of the one with his right hand and\nof the other with his left.\n\n\"And Samson said, 'Let me die with the Philistines.' And he bowed\nhimself with all his might: and the house fell upon the lords and upon\nall the people that were therein. So the dead which he slew at his\ndeath were more than they which he slew in his life.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n\"DIE KONIGIN VON SABA\"\n\n\nThe most obvious reason why Goldmark's \"Konigin von Saba\" should be\nseen and heard with pleasure lies in its book and scenic investiture.\nThoughtfully considered the book is not one of great worth, but in the\nhandling of things which give pleasure to the superficial observer it\nis admirable. In the first place it presents a dramatic story which is\nrational; which strongly enlists the interest if not the sympathies of\nthe observer; which is unhackneyed; which abounds with imposing\nspectacles with which the imagination of childhood already had made\nplay, that are not only intrinsically brilliant and fascinating but\noccur as necessary adjuncts of the story. Viewed from its ethical side\nand considered with reference to the sources whence its elements\nsprang, it falls under a considerable measure of condemnation, as will\nmore plainly appear after its incidents have been rehearsed.\n\nThe title of the opera indicates that the Biblical story of the visit\nof the Queen of Sheba to Solomon had been drawn on for the plot. This\nis true, but only in a slight degree. Sheba's Queen comes to Solomon in\nthe opera, but that is the end of the draft on the Scriptural legend so\nfar as she is concerned. Sulamith, who figures in the drama, owes her\nname to the Canticles, from which it was borrowed by the librettist,\nbut no element of her character nor any of the incidents in which she\nis involved. The \"Song of Songs, which is Solomon's\" contributes a few\nlines of poetry to the book, and a ritualistic service which is\ncelebrated in the temple finds its original text in the opening verses\nof Psalms lxvii and cxvii, but with this I have enumerated all that the\nopera owes to the Bible. It is not a Biblical opera, in the degree that\nMehul's \"Joseph,\" Rossini's \"Moses,\" or Rubinstein's \"Maccabees\" is\nBiblical, to say nothing of Saint-Saens's \"Samson et Dalila.\" Solomon's\nmagnificent reign and marvellous wisdom, which contribute a few factors\nto the sum of the production, belong to profane as well as to sacred\nhistory and it will be found most agreeable to deeply rooted\npreconceptions to think of some other than the Scriptural Solomon as\nthe prototype of the Solomon of Mosenthal and Goldmark, who, at the\nbest, is a sorry sort of sentimentalist. The local color has been\nborrowed from the old story; the dramatic motive comes plainly from\nWagner's \"Tannhauser.\"\n\nAssad, a favorite courtier, is sent by Solomon to extend greetings and\na welcome to the Queen of Sheba, who is on the way to visit the king,\nwhose fame for wealth and wisdom has reached her ears in far Arabia.\nAssad is the type (though a milk-and-watery one, it must be confessed)\nof manhood struggling between the things that are of the earth and the\nthings which are of heaven--between a gross, sensual passion and a\npure, exalting love. He is betrothed to Sulamith, the daughter of the\nHigh Priest of the temple, who awaits his return from Solomon's palace\nand leads her companions in songs of gladness. Assad meets the Queen at\nGath, performs his mission, and sets out to return, but, exhausted by\nthe heat of the day, enters the forest on Mount Lebanon and lies down\non a bank of moss to rest. There the sound of plashing waters arrests\nhis ear. He seeks the cause of the grateful noise and comes upon a\ntransportingly beautiful woman bathing. The nymph, finding herself\nobserved, does not, like another Diana, cause the death of her admirer,\nbut discloses herself to be a veritable Wagnerian Venus. She clips him\nin her arms and he falls at her feet; but a reed rustles and the\ncharmer flees. These incidents we do not see. They precede the opening\nof the opera, and we learn of them from Assad's narration. Assad\nreturns to Jerusalem, where, conscience stricken, he seeks to avoid his\nchaste bride. To Solomon, however, he confesses his adventure, and the\nking sets the morrow as his wedding day with Sulamith.\n\nThe Queen of Sheba arrives, and when she raises her veil, ostensibly to\nshow unto Solomon the first view of her features that mortal man has\never had vouchsafed him, Assad recognizes the heroine of his adventure\nin the woods on Lebanon. His mind is in a maze; bewilderingly he\naddresses her, and haughtily he is repulsed. But the woman has felt the\ndart no less than Assad; she seeks him at night in the palace garden;\nwhither she had gone to brood over her love and the loss which\nthreatens her on the morrow, and the luring song of her slave draws him\nagain into her arms.\n\nBefore the altar in the temple, just as Assad is about to pronounce the\nwords which are to bind him to Sulamith, she confronts him again, on\nthe specious pretext that she brings gifts for the bride. Assad again\naddresses her. Again he is denied. Delirium seizes upon his brain; he\nloudly proclaims the Queen as the goddess of his devotion. The people\nare panic-stricken at the sacrilege and rush from the temple; the\npriests cry anathema; Sulamith bemoans her fate; Solomon essays words\nof comfort; the High Priest intercedes with heaven; the soldiery, led\nby Baal-Hanan, overseer of the palace, enter to lead the profaner to\ndeath. Now Solomon claims the right to fix his punishment. The Queen,\nfearful that her prey may escape her, begs his life as a boon, but\nSolomon rejects her appeal; Assad must work out his salvation by\novercoming temptation and mastering his wicked passion. Sulamith\napproaches amid the wailings of her companions. She is about to enter a\nretreat on the edge of the Syrian desert, but she, too, prays for the\nlife of Assad. Solomon, in a prophetic ecstasy, foretells Assad's\ndeliverance from sin and in a vision sees a meeting between him and his\npure love under a palm tree in the desert. Assad is banished to the\nsandy waste; there a simoom sweeps down upon him; he falls at the foot\nof a lonely palm to die, after calling on Sulamith with his fleeting\nbreath. She comes with her wailing maidens, sees the fulfilment of\nSolomon's prophecy, and Assad dies in her arms. \"Thy beloved is thine,\nin love's eternal realm,\" sing the maidens, while a mirage shows the\nwicked Queen, with her caravan of camels and elephants, returning to\nher home.\n\nThe parallel between this story and the immeasurably more poetical and\nbeautiful one of \"Tannhauser\" is apparent to half an eye. Sulamith is\nElizabeth, the Queen is Venus, Assad is Tannhauser, Solomon is Wolfram\nvon Eschenbach. The ethical force of the drama--it has some, though\nvery little--was weakened at the performances at the Metropolitan Opera\nHouse [footnote: Goldmark's opera was presented for the first time in\nAmerica at the Metropolitan Opera House on December 2, 1885. Cast:\nSulamith, Fraulein Lilli Lehmann; die Konigin von Saba, Frau\nKramer-Wiedl; Astaroth, Fraulein Marianne Brandt; Solomon, Herr Adolph\nRobinson; Assad, Herr Stritt; Der Hohe Priester, Herr Emil Fischer;\nBaal-Hanan, Herr-Alexi. Anton Seidl conducted, and the opera had\nfifteen representations in the season. These performances were in the\noriginal German. On April 3, 1888, an English version was presented at\nthe Academy of Music by the National Opera Company, then in its death\nthroes. The opera was revived at the Metropolitan Opera House by Mr.\nConried in the season 1905-1906 and had five performances.] in New York\nby the excision from the last act of a scene in which the Queen\nattempts to persuade Assad to go with her to Arabia. Now Assad rises\nsuperior to his grosser nature and drives the temptress away, thus\nperforming the saving act demanded by Solomon.\n\nHerr Mosenthal, who made the libretto of \"Die Konigin von Saba,\"\ntreated this material, not with great poetic skill, but with a cunning\nappreciation of the opportunities which it offers for dramatic effect.\nThe opera opens with a gorgeous picture of the interior of Solomon's\npalace, decked in honor of the coming guest. There is an air of joyous\nexpectancy over everything. Sulamith's entrance introduces the element\nof female charm to brighten the brilliancy of the picture, and her\nbridal song--in which the refrain is an excerpt from the Canticles,\n\"Thy beloved is thine, who feeds among the roses\"--enables the composer\nto indulge his strong predilection and fecund gift for Oriental melody.\nThe action hurries to a thrilling climax. One glittering pageant treads\non the heels of another, each more gorgeous and resplendent than the\nlast, until the stage, set to represent a fantastical hall with a\nbewildering vista of carved columns, golden lions, and rich draperies,\nis filled with such a kaleidoscopic mass of colors and groupings as\nonly an Oriental mind could conceive. Finally all the preceding strokes\nare eclipsed by the coming of the Queen. But no time is lost; the\nspectacle does not make the action halt for a moment. Sheba makes her\ngifts and uncovers her face, and at once we are confronted by the\ntragical element, and the action rushes on toward its legitimate and\nmournful end.\n\nIn this ingenious blending of play and spectacle one rare opportunity\nafter another is presented to the composer. Sulamith's epithalamium,\nAssad's narrative, the choral greeting to the Queen, the fateful\nrecognition--all these things are made for music of the inspiring,\nswelling, passionate kind. In the second act, the Queen's monologue,\nher duet with Assad, and, most striking of all, the unaccompanied bit\nof singing with which Astaroth lures Assad into the presence of the\nQueen, who is hiding in the shadow of broad-leaved palms behind a\nrunning fountain--a melodic phrase saturated with the mystical color of\nthe East--these are gifts of the rarest kind to the composer, which he\nhas enriched to give them in turn to the public. That relief from their\nstress of passion is necessary is not forgotten, but is provided in the\nballet music and the solemn ceremonial in the temple, which takes place\namid surroundings that call into active operation one's childhood\nfancies touching the sacred fane on Mount Moriah and the pompous\nliturgical functions of which it was the theatre.\n\nGoldmark's music is highly spiced. He was an eclectic, and his first\naim seems to have been to give the drama a tonal investiture which\nshould be in keeping with its character, external as well as internal.\nAt times his music rushes along like a lava stream of passion, every\nmeasure pulsating with eager, excited, and exciting life. He revels in\ninstrumental color. The language of his orchestra is as glowing as the\npoetry attributed to the royal poet whom his operatic story celebrates.\nMany composers before him made use of Oriental cadences, rhythms, and\nidioms, but to none do they seem to have come so like native language\nas to Goldmark. It is romantic music, against which the strongest\nobjection that can be urged is that it is so unvaryingly stimulated\nthat it wearies the mind and makes the listener long for a change to a\nfresher and healthier musical atmosphere.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n\"HERODIADE\"\n\n\nIn the ballet scene of Gounod's most popular opera Mephistopheles\nconjures up visions of Phryne, Lais, Aspasia, Cleopatra, and Helen of\nTroy to beguile the jaded interest of Faust. The list reads almost like\na catalogue of the operas of Massenet whose fine talent was largely\ngiven to the celebration of the famous courtesans of the ancient world.\nWith the addition of a few more names from the roster of antiquity\n(Thais, Dalila, and Aphrodite), and some less ancient but no less\nimmoral creatures of modern fancy, like Violetta, Manon Lescaut, Zaza,\nand Louise, we might make a pretty complete list of representatives of\nthe female type in which modern dramatists and composers seem to think\nthe interest of humanity centres.\n\nWhen Massenet's \"Herodiade\" was announced as the first opera to be\ngiven at the Manhattan Opera House in New York for the season of\n1909-1910 it looked to some observers as if the dominant note of the\nyear was to be sounded by the Scarlet Woman; but the representation\nbrought a revelation and a surprise. The names of the principal\ncharacters were those which for a few years had been filling the lyric\ntheatres of Germany with a moral stench; but their bearers in\nMassenet's opera did little or nothing that was especially shocking to\ngood taste or proper morals. Herod was a love-sick man of lust, who\ngazed with longing eyes upon the physical charms of Salome and pleaded\nfor her smiles like any sentimental milksop; but he did not offer her\nCapernaum for a dance. Salome may have known how, but she did not dance\nfor either half a kingdom or the whole of a man's head. Instead, though\nthere were intimations that her reputation was not all that a good\nmaiden's ought to be, she sang pious hosannahs and waved a palm branch\nconspicuously in honor of the prophet at whose head she had bowled\nherself in the desert, the public streets, and king's palaces. At the\nend she killed herself when she found that the vengeful passion of\nHerodias and the jealous hatred of Herod had compassed the death of the\nsaintly man whom she had loved. Herodias was a wicked woman, no doubt,\nfor John the Baptist denounced her publicly as a Jezebel, but her\njealousy of Salome had reached a point beyond her control before she\nlearned that her rival was her own daughter whom she had deserted for\nlove of the Tetrarch. As for John the Baptist the camel's hair with\nwhich he was clothed must have cost as pretty a penny as any of the\nmodern kind, and if he wore a girdle of skins about his loins it was\nconcealed under a really regal cloak. He was a voice; but not one\ncrying in the wilderness. He was in fact an operatic tenor comme il\nfaut, who needed only to be shut up in a subterranean jail with the\nyoung woman who had pursued him up hill and down dale, in and out of\nseason to make love to her in the most approved fashion of the Paris\nGrand Opera.\n\nWhat shall we think of the morals of this French opera, after we have\nseen and heard that compounded by the Englishman Oscar Wilde and the\nGerman Richard Strauss? No wonder that England's Lord Chamberlain asked\nnothing more than an elimination of the Biblical names when he licensed\na performance of \"Herodiade\" at Covent Garden. There was no loss of\ndramatic quality in calling Herod, Moriame, and Herodias, Hesotade, and\nchanging the scene from Jerusalem to Azoum in Ethiopia; though it must\nhave been a trifle diverting to hear fair-skinned Ethiopians singing\nSchma Yisroel, Adonai Elohenu in a temple which could only be that of\nJerusalem. John the Baptist was only Jean in the original and needed\nnot to be changed, and Salome is not in the Bible, though Salome, a\nvery different woman is--a fact which the Lord Chamberlain seems to\nhave overlooked when he changed the title of the opera from \"Herodiade\"\nto \"Salome.\"\n\nWhere does Salome come from, anyway? And where did she get her\nchameleonlike nature? Was she an innocent child, as Flaubert represents\nher, who could but lisp the name of the prophet when her mother told\nher to ask for his head? Had she taken dancing lessons from one of the\nwomen of Cadiz to learn to dance as she must have danced to excite such\nlust in Herod? Was she a monster, a worse than vampire as she is\nrepresented by Wilde and Strauss? Was she an \"Israelitish grisette\" as\nPougin called the heroine of the opera which it took one Italian\n(Zanardini) and three Frenchmen (Milliet, Gremont, and Massenet) to\nconcoct? No wonder that the brain of Saint-Saens reeled when he went to\nhear \"Herodiade\" at its first performance in Brussels and found that\nthe woman whom he had looked upon as a type of lasciviousness and\nmonstrous cruelty had become metamorphosed into a penitent Magdalen.\nRead the plot of the opera and wonder!\n\nSalome is a maiden in search of her mother whom John the Baptist finds\nin his wanderings and befriends. She clings to him when he becomes a\npolitical as well as a religious power among the Jews, though he\npreaches unctuously to her touching the vanity of earthly love.\nHerodias demands his death of her husband for that he had publicly\ninsulted her, but Herod schemes to use his influence over the Jews to\nfurther his plan to become a real monarch instead of a Roman Tetrarch.\nBut when the pro-consul Vitellius wins the support of the people and\nHerod learns that the maiden who has spurned him is in love with the\nprophet, he decrees his decapitation. Salome, baffled in her effort to\nsave her lover, attempts to kill Herodias; but the wicked woman\ndiscloses herself as the maiden's mother and Salome turns the dagger\nagainst her own breast.\n\nThis is all of the story one needs to know. It is richly garnished with\nincident, made gorgeous with pageantry, and clothed with much charming\nmusic. Melodies which may be echoes of synagogal hymns of great\nantiquity resound in the walls of the temple at Jerusalem, in which\nrespect the opera recalls Goldmark's \"Queen of Sheba.\" Curved Roman\ntrumpets mix their loud clangors with the instruments of the modern\nbrass band and compel us to think of \"Aida.\" There are dances of\nEgyptians, Babylonians, and Phoenicians, and if the movements of the\nwomen make us deplore the decay of the choreographic art, the music\nwarms us almost as much as the Spanish measures in \"Le Cid.\" Eyes and\nears are deluged with Oriental color until at the last there comes a\nlonging for the graciously insinuating sentimentalities of which the\nearlier Massenet was a master. Two of the opera's airs had long been\nfamiliar to the public from performance in the concert-room--Salome's\n\"Il est doux\" and Herod's \"Vision fugitive\"--and they stand out as the\nbrightest jewels in the opera's musical crown; but there is much else\nwhich woos the ear delightfully, for Massenet was ever a gracious if\nnot a profound melodist and a master of construction and theatrical\norchestration. When he strives for massive effects, however, he\nsometimes becomes futile, banal where he would be imposing; but he\ncommands a charm which is insinuating in its moments of intimacy.\n\n[Footnote: \"Herodiade\" had its first performance in New York (it had\npreviously been given in New Orleans by the French Opera Company) on\nNovember 8, 1909. The cast was as follows: Salome--Lina Cavalieri;\nHerodias--Gerville-Reache; John--Charles Dalmores; Herod--Maurice\nRenaud; Vitellius--Crabbe; Phanuel--M. Vallier; High Priest--M.\nNicolay. The musical director was Henriques de la Fuente.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\n\"LAKME\"\n\n\nLakme is the daughter of Nilakantha, a fanatical Brahmin priest, who\nhas withdrawn to a ruined temple deep in an Indian forest. In his\nretreat the old man nurses his wrath against the British invader, prays\nassiduously to Brahma (thus contributing a fascinating Oriental mood to\nthe opening of the opera), and waits for the time to come when he shall\nbe able to wreak his revenge on the despoilers of his country. Lakme\nsings Oriental duets with her slave, Mallika:--\n\n    Sous le dome epais ou le blanc jasmin\n      A la rose s'assemble,\n    Sur la rive en fleurs, riant au matin\n      Viens, descendons ensemble--\n\n\na dreamy, sense-ensnaring, hypnotic barcarole. The opera opens well; by\nthis time the composer has carried us deep into the jungle. The\nOccident is rude: Gerald, an English officer, breaks through a bamboo\nfence and makes love to Lakme, who, though widely separated from her\noperatic colleagues from an ethnological point of view like Elsa and\nSenta, to expedite the action requites the passion instanter. After the\nEnglishman is gone the father returns and, with an Oriental's cunning\nwhich does him credit, deduces from the broken fence that an Englishman\nhas profaned the sacred spot. This is the business of Act I. In Act II\nthe father, disguised as a beggar who holds a dagger ever in readiness,\nand his daughter, disguised as a street singer, visit a town market in\nsearch of the profaner. The business is not to Lakme's taste, but it is\nnot for the like of her to neglect the opportunity offered to win\napplause with the legend of the pariah's daughter, with its\ntintinnabulatory charm:--\n\n    Ou va la jeune Hindoue\n      Fille des parias;\n    Quand la lune se joue\n      Dans les grand mimosas?\n\n\nIt is the \"Bell song,\" which has tinkled so often in our concert-rooms.\nGerald recognizes the singer despite her disguise; and Nilakantha\nrecognizes him as the despoiler of the hallowed spot in which he\nworships and incidentally conceals his daughter. The bloodthirsty\nfanatic observes sententiously that Brahma has smiled and cuts short\nGerald's soliloquizing with a dagger thrust. Lakme, with the help of a\nmale slave, removes him to a hut concealed in the forest. While he is\nconvalescing the pair sing duets and exchange vows of undying\naffection. But the military Briton, who has invaded the country at\nlarge, must needs now invade also this cosey abode of love. Frederick,\na brother officer, discovers Gerald and informs him that duty calls\n(Britain always expects every man to do his duty, no matter what the\nconsequences to him) and he must march with his regiment. Frederick has\nhappened in just as Lakme is gone for some sacred water in which she\nand Gerald were to pledge eternal love for each other, to each other.\nBut, spurred on by Frederick and the memory that \"England expects,\netc.,\" Gerald finds the call of the fife and drum more potent than the\nvoice of love. Lakme, psychologist as well as botanist, understands the\nstruggle which now takes place in Gerald's soul, and relieves him, of\nhis dilemma by crushing a poisonous flower (to be exact, the Datura\nstramonium) between her teeth, dying, it would seem, to the pious\ndelight of her father, who \"ecstatically\" beholds her dwelling with\nBrahma.\n\nThe story, borrowed by Gondinet and Gille from the little romance \"Le\nMariage de Loti,\" is worthless except to furnish motives for tropical\nscenery, Hindu dresses, and Oriental music. Three English ladies,\nEllen, Rose, and Mrs. Bentson, figure in the play, but without dramatic\npurpose except to take part in some concerted music. They are, indeed,\nso insignificant in all other respects that when the opera was given by\nMiss Van Zandt and a French company in London for the first time in\n1885 they were omitted, and the excision was commended by the critics,\nwho knew that it had been made. The conversation of the women is all of\nthe veriest stopgap character. The maidens, Rose and Ellen, are English\nladies visiting in the East; Mrs. Bentson is their chaperon. All that\nthey have to say is highly unimportant, even when true. \"What do you\nsee, Frederick?\" \"A garden.\" \"And you, Gerald?\" \"Big, beautiful trees.\"\n\"Anybody about?\" \"Don't know.\" \"Look again.\" \"That's not easy; the\nfence shuts out the view within.\" \"Can't you make a peephole through\nthe bamboo?\" \"Girls, girls, be careful.\" And so on and so on for\nquantity. But we must fill three acts, and ensemble makes its demands;\nbesides, we want pretty blondes of the English type to put in contrast\nwith the dark-skinned Lakme and her slave. At the first representation\nin New York by the American Opera Company, at the Academy of Music, on\nMarch 1, 1886, the three women were permitted to interfere with what\nthere is of poetical spirit in the play, and their conversation, like\nthat of the other principals, was uttered in the recitatives composed\nby Delibes to take the place of the spoken dialogue used at the Paris\nOpera Comique, where spoken dialogue is traditional. Theodore Thomas\nconducted the Academy performance, at which the cast was as follows:\nLakme, Pauline L'Allemand; Nilakantha, Alonzo E. Stoddard; Gerald,\nWilliam Candidus; Frederick, William H. Lee; Ellen, Charlotte Walker;\nRose, Helen Dudley Campbell; Mrs. Bentson, May Fielding; Mallika,\nJessie Bartlett Davis; Hadji, William H. Fessenden.\n\nFew operas have had a more variegated American history than \"Lakme.\" It\nwas quite new when it was first heard in New York, but it had already\ngiven rise to considerable theatrical gossip, not to say scandal. The\nfirst representation took place at the Opera Comique in April, 1883,\nwith Miss Marie Van Zandt, an American girl, the daughter of a singer\nwho had been actively successful in English opera in New York and\nLondon, as creator of the part of the heroine. The opera won a pretty\ntriumph and so did the singer. At once there was talk of a New York\nperformance. Mme. Etelka Gerster studied the titular role with M.\nDelibes and, as a member of Colonel Mapleson's company at the Academy\nof Music, confidently expected to produce the work there in the season\nof 1883-1884, the first season of the rivalry between the Academy and\nthe Metropolitan Opera House, which had just opened its doors; but\nthough she went so far as to offer to buy the American performing\nrights from Heugel, the publisher, nothing came of it. The reason was\neasily guessed by those who knew that there has been, or was pending, a\nquarrel between Colonel Mapleson and M. Heugel concerning the\nunauthorized use by the impresario of other scores owned by the\npublisher.\n\nDuring the same season, however, Miss Emma Abbott carried a version (or\nrather a perversion) of the opera, for which the orchestral parts had\nbeen arranged from the pianoforte score, into the cities of the West,\nand brought down a deal of unmerited criticism on the innocent head of\nM. Delibes. In the season of 1884-1885 Colonel Mapleson came back to\nthe Academy with vouchers of various sorts to back up a promise to give\nthe opera. There was a human voucher in the person of Miss Emma Nevada,\nwho had also enjoyed the instruction of the composer and who had\ntrunkfuls and trunkfuls and trunkfuls of Oriental dresses, though Lakme\nneeds but few. There were gorgeous uniforms for the British soldiers,\nthe real article, each scarlet coat and every top boot having a piece\nof history attached, and models of the scenery which any doubting\nThomas of a newspaper reporter might inspect if he felt so disposed.\nWhen the redoubtable colonel came it was to be only a matter of a week\nor so before the opera would be put on the stage in the finest of\nstyles; it was still a matter of a week or so when the Academy season\ncame to an end. When Delibes's exquisite and exotic music reached a\nhearing in the American metropolis, it was sung to English words, and\nthe most emphatic success achieved in performance was the acrobatic one\nof Mme. L'Allemand as she rolled down some uncalled-for pagoda steps in\nthe death scene.\n\nMme. Adelina Patti was the second Lakme heard in New York. After the\nfifth season of German opera at the Metropolitan Opera House had come\nto an end in the spring of 1890, Messrs. Abbey and Grau took the\ntheatre for a short season of Italian opera by a troupe headed by Mme.\nPatti. In that season \"Lakme\" was sung once--on April 2, 1890. Now came\nan opportunity for the original representative of the heroine. Abbey\nand Grau resumed the management of the theatre in 1891, and in their\ncompany was Miss Van Zandt, for whom the opera was \"revived\" on\nFebruary 22. Mr. Abbey had great expectations, but they were\ndisappointed. For the public there was metal more attractive than Miss\nVan Zandt and the Hindu opera in other members of the company and other\noperas. It was the year of Emma Eames's coming and also of Jean de\nReszke's (they sang together in Gounod's \"Romeo et Juliette\") and\n\"Cavalleria Rusticana\" was new. Then Delibes's opera hibernated in New\nYork for fifteen years, after which the presence in the Metropolitan\ncompany of Mme. Marcella Sembrich led to another \"revival.\" (Operas\nwhich are unperformed for a term of two or three years after having\nbeen once included in the repertory are \"revived\" in New York.) It was\nsung three times in the season of 1906-1907. It also afforded one of\nMr. Hammerstein's many surprises at the Manhattan Opera House. Five\ndays before the close of his last season, on March 21, 1910, it was\nprecipitated on the stage (\"pitchforked\" is the popular and\nprofessional term) to give Mme. Tetrazzini a chance to sing the bell\nsong. Altogether I know of no more singular history than that of\n\"Lakme\" in New York.\n\n\n\nLakme is a child of the theatrical boards, who inherited traits from\nseveral predecessors, the strongest being those deriving from Aida and\nSelika. Like the former, she loves a man whom her father believes to be\nthe arch enemy of his native land, and, like her, she is the means of\nbetraying him into the hands of the avenger. Like the heroine of\nMeyerbeer's posthumous opera, she has a fatal acquaintance with\ntropical botany and uses her knowledge to her own destruction. Her\nscientific attainments are on about the same plane as her amiability,\nher abnormal sense of filial duty, and her musical accomplishments. She\nloves a man whom her father wishes her to lure to his death by her\nsinging, and she sings entrancingly enough to bring about the meeting\nbetween her lover's back and her father's knife. That she does not\nwarble herself into the position of \"particeps criminis\" in a murder\nshe owes only to the bungling of the old man. Having done this,\nhowever, she turns physician and nurse and brings the wounded man back\nto health, thus sacrificing her love to the duty which her lover thinks\nhe owes to the invaders of her country and oppressors of her people.\nAfter this she makes the fatal application of her botanical knowledge.\nSuch things come about when one goes to India for an operatic heroine.\n\nThe feature of the libretto which Delibes has used to the best purpose\nis its local color. His music is saturated with the languorous spirit\nof the East. Half a dozen of the melodies are lovely inventions, of\nmarked originality in both matter and treatment, and the first half\nhour of the opera is apt to take one's fancy completely captive. The\ndrawback lies in the oppressive weariness which succeeds the first\ntrance, and is brought on by the monotonous character of the music.\nAfter an hour of \"Lakme\" one yearns for a few crashing chords of C\nmajor as a person enduring suffocation longs for a gush of fresh air.\nThe music first grows monotonous, then wearies. Delibes's lyrical\nmoments show the most numerous indications of beauty; dramatic life and\nenergy are absent from the score. In the second act he moves his\nlisteners only once--with the attempted repetition of the bell song\nafter Lakme has recognized her lover. The odor of the poppy invites to\ndrowsy enjoyment in the beginning, and the first act is far and away\nthe most gratifying in the opera, musically as well as scenically. It\nwould be so if it contained only Lakme's song \"Pourquoi dans les grands\nbois,\" the exquisite barcarole--a veritable treasure trove for the\ncomposer, who used its melody dramatically throughout the work--and\nGerald's air, \"Fantaisie aux divins mensonges.\" Real depth will be\nlooked for in vain in this opera; superficial loveliness is apparent on\nat least half its pages.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\n\"PAGLIACCl\"\n\n\nFor a quarter of a century \"Cavalleria Rusticana\" and \"Pagliacci\" have\nbeen the Castor and Pollux of the operatic theatres of Europe and\nAmerica. Together they have joined the hunt of venturesome impresarios\nfor that Calydonian boar, success; together they have lighted the way\nthrough seasons of tempestuous stress and storm. Of recent years at the\nMetropolitan Opera House in New York efforts have been made to divorce\nthem and to find associates for one or the other, since neither is\nsufficient in time for an evening's entertainment; but they refuse to\nbe put asunder as steadfastly as did the twin brothers of Helen and\nClytemnestra. There has been no operatic Zeus powerful enough to\nseparate and alternate their existences even for a day; and though\nblase critics will continue to rail at the \"double bill\" as they have\ndone for two decades or more, the two fierce little dramas will \"sit\nshining on the sails\" of many a managerial ship and bring it safe to\nhaven for many a year to come.\n\nTwins the operas are in spirit; twins in their capacity as supreme\nrepresentatives of verismo; twins in the fitness of their association;\nbut twins they are not in respect of parentage or age. \"Cavalleria\nRusticana\" is two years older than \"Pagliacci\" and as truly its\nprogenitor as Weber's operas were the progenitors of Wagner's. They are\nthe offspring of the same artistic movement, and it was the phenomenal\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nsuccess of Mascagni's opera which was the spur that drove Leoncavallo\nto write his. When \"Cavalleria Rusticana\" appeared on the scene, two\ngenerations of opera-goers had passed away without experiencing\nanything like the sensation caused by this opera. They had witnessed\nthe production, indeed, of great masterpieces, which it would be almost\nsacrilegious to mention in the same breath with Mascagni's turbulent\nand torrential tragedy, but these works were the productions of mature\nmasters, from whom things monumental and lasting were expected as a\nmatter of course; men like Wagner and Verdi. The generations had also\nseen the coming of \"Carmen\" and gradually opened their minds to an\nappreciation of its meaning and beauty, while the youthful genius who\nhad created it sank almost unnoticed into his grave; but they had not\nseen the advent of a work which almost in a day set the world on fire\nand raised an unknown musician from penury and obscurity to affluence\nand fame. In the face of such an experience it was scarcely to be\nwondered at that judgment was flung to the winds and that the most\nvolatile of musical nations and the staidest alike hailed the young\ncomposer as the successor of Verdi, the regenerator of operatic Italy,\nand the pioneer of a new school which should revitalize opera and make\nunnecessary the hopeless task of trying to work along the lines laid\ndown by Wagner.\n\nAnd this opera was the outcome of a competition based on the frankest\nkind of commercialism--one of those \"occasionals\" from which we have\nbeen taught to believe we ought never to expect anything of ideal and\nlasting merit. \"Pagliacci\" was, in a way, a fruit of the same\ncompetition. Three years before \"Cavalleria Rusticana\" had started the\nuniversal conflagration Ruggiero Leoncavallo, who at sixteen years of\nage had won his diploma at the Naples Conservatory and received the\ndegree of Doctor of Letters from the University of Bologna at twenty,\nhad read his dramatic poem \"I Medici\" to the publisher Ricordi and been\ncommissioned to set it to music. For this work he was to receive 2400\nfrancs. He completed the composition within a year, but there was no\ncontract that the opera should be performed, and this hoped-for\nconsummation did not follow. Then came Mascagni's triumph, and\nLeoncavallo, who had been obliged meanwhile to return to the routine\nwork of an operatic repetiteur, lost patience. Satisfied that Ricordi\nwould never do anything more for him, and become desperate, he shut\nhimself in his room to attempt \"one more work\"--as he said in an\nautobiographical sketch which appeared in \"La Reforme,\" a journal\npublished in Alexandria. In five months he had written the book and\nmusic of \"Pagliacci,\" which was accepted for publication and production\nby Sonzogno, Ricordi's business rival, after a single reading of the\npoem. Maurel, whose friendship Leoncavallo had made while coaching\nopera singers in Paris, used his influence in favor of the opera,\noffered to create the part of Tonio, and did so at the first\nperformance of the opera at the Teatro dal Verme, Milan, on May 17,\n1892.\n\nLeoncavallo's opera turns on a tragical ending to a comedy which is\nincorporated in the play. The comedy is a familiar one among the\nstrolling players who perform at village fairs in Italy, in which\nColumbina, Pagliaccio, and Arlecchino (respectively the Columbine,\nClown, and Harlequin of our pantomime) take part. Pagliaccio is husband\nto Colombina and Arlecchino is her lover, who hoodwinks Pagliaccio.\nThere is a fourth character, Taddeo, a servant, who makes foolish love\nto Columbina and, mingling imbecile stupidity with maliciousness,\ndelights in the domestic discord which he helps to foment. The first\nact of the opera may be looked upon as an induction to the conventional\ncomedy which comes to an unconventional and tragic end through the fact\nthat the Clown (Canio) is in real life the husband of Columbine (Nedda)\nand is murderously jealous of her; wherefore, forgetting himself in a\nmad rage, he kills her and her lover in the midst of the mimic scene.\nThe lover, however, is not the Harlequin of the comedy, but one of the\nspectators whom Canio had vainly sought to identify, but who is\nunconsciously betrayed by his mistress in her death agony. The Taddeo\nof the comedy is the clown of the company, who in real life entertains\na passion for Nedda, which is repulsed, whereupon he also carries his\npart into actuality and betrays Nedda's secret to Canio. It is in the\ningenious interweaving of these threads--the weft of reality with the\nwarp of simulation--that the chief dramatic value of Leoncavallo's\nopera lies.\n\nActual murder by a man while apparently playing a part in a drama is\nolder as a dramatic motif than \"Pagliacci,\" and Leoncavallo's\nemployment of it gave rise to an interesting controversy and a still\nmore interesting revelation in the early days of the opera. Old\ntheatre-goers in England and America remember the device as it was\nemployed in Dennery's \"Paillaisse,\" known on the English stage as\n\"Belphegor, the Mountebank.\" In 1874 Paul Ferrier produced a play\nentitled \"Tabarin,\" in which Coquelin appeared at the Theatre Francais.\nThirteen years later Catulle Mendes brought out another play called \"La\nFemme de Tabarin,\" for which Chabrier wrote the incidental music. The\ncritics were prompt in charging Mendes with having plagiarized Ferrier,\nand the former defended himself on the ground that the incident which\nhe had employed, of actual murder in a dramatic performance, was\nhistorical and had often been used. This, however, did not prevent him\nfrom bringing an accusation of theft against Leoncavallo when\n\"Pagliacci\" was announced for production in French at Brussels and of\nbeginning legal proceedings against the composer and his publisher on\nthat score. The controversy which followed showed very plainly that\nMendes did not have a leg to stand upon either in law or equity, and he\nwithdrew his suit and made a handsome amende in a letter to the editor\nof \"Le Figaro.\" Before this was done, however, Signor Leoncavallo wrote\na letter to his publisher, which not only established that the incident\nin question was based upon fact but directed attention to a dramatic\nuse of the motif in a Spanish play written thirty-five years before the\noccurrence which was in the mind of Leoncavallo. The letter was as\nfollows:--\n\nLugano, Sept. 3, 1894.\n\nDear Signor Sonzogno.\n\nI have read Catulle Mendes's two letters. M. Mendes goes pretty far in\ndeclaring a priori that \"Pagliacci\" is an imitation of his \"Femme de\nTabarin.\" I had not known this book, and only know it now through the\naccounts given in the daily papers. You will remember that at the time\nof the first performance of \"Pagliacci\" at Milan in 1892 several\ncritics accused me of having taken the subject of my opera from the\n\"Drama Nuevo\" of the well known Spanish writer, Estebanez. What would\nM. Mendes say if he were accused of having taken the plot of \"La Femme\nde Tabarin\" from the \"Drama Nuevo,\" which dates back to 1830 or 1840?\nAs a fact, a husband, a comedian, kills in the last scene the lover of\nhis wife before her eyes while he only appears to play his part in the\npiece.\n\nIt is absolutely true that I knew at that time no more of the \"Drama\nNuevo\" than I know now of \"La Femme de Tabarin.\" I saw the first\nmentioned work in Rome represented by Novelli six months after\n\"Pagliacci's\" first production in Milan. In my childhood, while my\nfather was judge at Montalto, in Calabria (the scene of the opera's\nplot), a jealous player killed his wife after the performance. This\nevent made a deep and lasting impression on my childish mind, the more\nsince my father was the judge at the criminal's trial; and later, when\nI took up dramatic work, I used this episode for a drama. I left the\nframe of the piece as I saw it, and it can be seen now at the Festival\nof Madonna della Serra, at Montalto. The clowns arrive a week or ten\ndays before the festival, which takes place on August 15, to put up\ntheir tents and booths in the open space which reaches from the church\ntoward the fields. I have not even invented the coming of the peasants\nfrom Santo Benedetto, a neighboring village, during the chorale.\n\nWhat I write now I have mentioned so often in Germany and other parts\nthat several opera houses, notably that of Berlin, had printed on their\nbills \"Scene of the true event.\" After all this, M. Mendes insisted on\nhis claim, which means that he does not believe my words. Had I used M.\nMendes's ideas I would not have hesitated to open correspondence with\nhim before the first representation, as I have done now with a well\nknown writer who has a subject that I wish to use for a future work.\n\"Pagliacci\" is my own, entirely my own. If in this opera, a scene\nreminds one of M. Mendes's book, it only proves that we both had the\nsame idea which Estebanez had before us. On my honor and conscience I\nassure you that I have read but two of M. Mendes's books in my\nlife--\"Zo Hur\" and \"La Premiere Maitresse.\" When I read at Marienbad a\nlittle while ago the newspaper notices on the production of \"La Femme\nde Tabarin\" I even wrote to you, dear Signor Sonzogno, thinking this\nwas an imitation of \"Pagliacci.\" This assertion will suffice, coming\nfrom an honorable man, to prove my loyalty. If not, then I will place\nmy undoubted rights under the protection of the law, and furnish\nincontestable proof of what I have stated here. I have the honor, etc.,\netc.\n\n\nAt various times and in various manners, by letters and in newspaper\ninterviews, Leoncavallo reiterated the statement that the incident\nwhich he had witnessed as a boy in his father's courtroom had suggested\nhis drama. The chief actor in the incident, he said, was still living.\nAfter conviction he was asked if he felt penitent. The rough voice\nwhich rang through the room years before still echoed in Leoncavallo's\nears: \"I repent me of nothing! On the contrary, if I had it to do over\nagain I'd do it again!\" (Non mi pento del delitto! Tutt altro. Se\ndovessi ricominciare, ricomincerei!) He was sentenced to imprisonment\nand after the expiration of his term took service in a little Calabrian\ntown with Baroness Sproniere. If Mendes had prosecuted his action,\n\"poor Alessandro\" was ready to appear as a witness and tell the story\nwhich Leoncavallo had dramatized.\n\nI have never seen \"La Femme de Tabarin\" and must rely on Mr. Philip\nHale, fecund fountain of informal information, for an outline of the\nplay which \"Pagliacci\" called back into public notice: Francisquine,\nthe wife of Tabarin, irons her petticoats in the players' booth. A\nmusketeer saunters along, stops and makes love to her. She listens\ngreedily. Tabarin enters just after she has made an appointment with\nthe man. Tabarin is drunk--drunker than usual. He adores his wife; he\nfalls at her feet; he entreats her; he threatens her. Meanwhile the\ncrowd gathers to see the \"parade.\" Tabarin mounts the platform and\ntells openly of his jealousy. He calls his wife; she does not answer.\nHe opens the curtain behind him; then he sees her in the arms of the\nmusketeer. Tabarin snatches up a sword, stabs his wife in the breast\nand comes back to the stage with starting eyes and hoarse voice. The\ncrowd marvels at the passion of his play. Francisquine, bloody, drags\nherself along the boards. She chokes; she cannot speak. Tabarin, mad\nwith despair, gives her the sword, begs her to kill him. She seizes the\nsword, raises herself, hiccoughs, gasps out the word \"Canaille,\" and\ndies before she can strike.\n\nPaul Ferrier and Emanuel Pessard produced a grand opera in two acts\nentitled \"Tabarin\" in Paris in 1885; Alboiz and Andre a comic opera\nwith the same title, music by Georges Bousquet, in 1852. Gilles and\nFurpilles brought out an operetta called \"Tabarin Duelliste,\" with\nmusic by Leon Pillaut, in 1866. The works seem to have had only the\nname of the hero in common. Their stories bear no likeness to those of\n\"La Femme de Tabarin\" or \"Pagliacci.\" The Spanish play, \"Drama Nuevo,\"\nby Estebanez, was adapted for performance in English by Mr. W. D.\nHowells under the title \"Yorick's Love.\" The translation was made for\nMr. Lawrence Barrett and was never published in book form. If it had\nthe denouement suggested in Leoncavallo's letter to Sonzogno, the fact\nhas escaped the memory of Mr. Howells, who, in answer to a letter of\ninquiry which I sent him, wrote: \"So far as I can remember there was no\nlikeness between 'Yorick's Love' and 'Pagliacci.' But when I made my\nversion I had not seen or heard 'Pagliacci.'\"\n\nThe title of Leoncavallo's opera is \"Pagliacci,\" not \"I Pagliacci\" as\nit frequently appears in books and newspapers. When the opera was\nbrought out in the vernacular, Mr. Frederick E. Weatherly, who made the\nEnglish adaptation, called the play and the character assumed by Canio\nin the comedy \"Punchinello.\" This evoked an interesting comment from\nMr. Hale: \"'Pagliacci' is the plural of Pagliaccio, which does not mean\nand never did mean Punchinello. What is a Pagliaccio? A type long known\nto the Italians, and familiar to the French as Paillasse. The\nPagliaccio visited Paris first in 1570. He was clothed in white and\nwore big buttons. Later, he wore a suit of bedtick, with white and blue\nchecks, the coarse mattress cloth of the period. Hence his name. The\nword that meant straw was afterward used for mattress which was stuffed\nwith straw and then for the buffoon, who wore the mattress cloth suit.\nIn France the Paillasse, as I have said, was the same as Pagliaccio.\nSometimes he wore a red checked suit, but the genuine one was known by\nthe colors, white and blue. He wore blue stockings, short breeches\npuffing out a la blouse, a belted blouse and a black, close-fitting\ncap. This buffoon was seen at shows of strolling mountebanks. He stood\noutside the booth and by his jests and antics and grimaces strove to\nattract the attention of the people, and he told them of the wonders\nperformed by acrobats within, of the freaks exhibited. Many of his\njests are preserved. They are often in dialogue with the proprietor and\nare generally of vile indecency. The lowest of the strollers, he was\nabused by them. The Italian Pagliaccio is a species of clown, and\nPunchinello was never a mere buffoon. The Punch of the puppet-show is a\nbastard descendant of the latter, but the original type is still seen\nin Naples, where he wears a white costume and a black mask. The\noriginal type was not necessarily humpbacked. Punchinello is a shrewd\nfellow, intellectual, yet in touch with the people, cynical; not\nhesitating at murder if he can make by it; at the same time a local\nsatirist, a dealer in gags and quips. Pagliacci is perhaps best\ntranslated by 'clowns'; but the latter word must not be taken in its\nrestricted circus sense. These strolling clowns are pantomimists,\nsingers, comedians.\"\n\nAt the first performance of \"Pagliacci\" in Milan the cast was as\nfollows: Canio, Geraud; Tonio, Maurel; Silvio, Ancona; Peppe, Daddi;\nNedda, Mme. Stehle. The first performance in America was by the\nHinrichs Grand Opera Company, at the Grand Opera House, New York, on\nJune 15, 1893; Selma Kronold was the Nedda, Montegriffo the Canio, and\nCampanari the Tonio. The opera was incorporated in the Metropolitan\nrepertory in the season of 1893-1894.\n\n\n\nRinuccini's \"Dafne,\" which was written 300 years ago and more, begins\nwith a prologue which was spoken in the character of the poet Ovid.\nLeoncavallo's \"Pagliacci\" also begins with a prologue, but it is spoken\nby one of the people of the play; whether in his character as Tonio of\nthe tragedy or Pagliaccio of the comedy there is no telling. He speaks\nthe sentiments of the one and wears the motley of the other. Text and\nmusic, however, are ingeniously contrived to serve as an index to the\npurposes of the poet and the method and material of the composer. In\nhis speech the prologue tells us that the author of the play is fond of\nthe ancient custom of such an introduction, but not of the old purpose.\nHe does not employ it for the purpose of proclaiming that the tears and\npassions of the actors are but simulated and false. No! He wishes to\nlet us know that his play is drawn from life as it is--that it is true.\nIt welled up within him when memories of the past sang in his heart and\nwas written down to show us that actors are human beings like unto\nourselves.\n\nAn unnecessary preachment, and if listened to with a critical\ndisposition rather an impertinence, as calculated to rob us of the\npleasure of illusion which it is the province of the drama to give.\nClosely analyzed, Tonio's speech is very much of a piece with the\nprologue which Bully Bottom wanted for the play of \"Pyramus\" in\nShakespeare's comedy. We are asked to see a play. In this play there is\nanother play. In this other play one of the actors plays at\ncross-purposes with the author--forgets his lines and himself\naltogether and becomes in reality the man that he seems to be in the\nfirst play. The prologue deliberately aims to deprive us of the thrill\nof surprise at the unexpected denouement, simply that he may tell us\nwhat we already know as well as he, that an actor is a human being.\n\nPlainly then, from a didactic point of view, this prologue is a\ngratuitous impertinence. Not so its music. Structurally, it is little\nmore than a loose-jointed pot-pourri; but it serves the purpose of a\nthematic catalogue to the chief melodic incidents of the play which is\nto follow. In this it bears a faint resemblance to the introduction to\nBerlioz's \"Romeo and Juliet\" symphony. It begins with an energetic\nfigure,\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nwhich is immediately followed by an upward scale-passage with a saucy\nflourish at the end--not unlike the crack of a whiplash:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nIt helps admirably to picture the bustling activity of the festa into\nwhich we are soon to be precipitated. The bits of melody which are now\nintroduced might all be labelled in the Wolzogen-Wagner manner with\nreference to the play's peoples and their passions if it were worth\nwhile to do so, or if their beauty and eloquence were not sufficient\nunto themselves. First we have the phrase in which Canio will tell us\nhow a clown's heart must seem merry and make laughter though it be\nbreaking:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nNext the phrase from the love music of Nedda and Silvio:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nThe bustling music returns, develops great energy, then pauses,\nhesitates, and makes way for Tonio, who, putting his head through the\ncurtain, politely asks permission of the audience, steps forward and\ndelivers his homily, which is alternately declamatory and broadly\nmelodious. One of his melodies later becomes the theme of the\nbetween-acts music, which separates the supposedly real life of the\nstrolling players from the comedy which they present to the mimic\naudience:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nAt last Tonio calls upon his fellow mountebanks to begin their play.\nThe curtain rises. We are in the midst of a rural celebration of the\nFeast of the Assumption on the outskirts of a village in Calabria. A\nperambulant theatre has been set up among the trees and the strolling\nactors are arriving, accompanied by a crowd of villagers, who shout\ngreetings to Clown, Columbine, and Harlequin. Nedda arrives in a cart\ndrawn by a donkey led by Beppe. Canio in character invites the crowd to\ncome to the show at 7 o'clock (ventitre ore). There they shall be\nregaled with a sight of the domestic troubles of Pagliaccio and see the\nfat mischief-maker tremble. Tonio wants to help Nedda out of the cart,\nbut Canio interferes and lifts her down himself; whereupon the women\nand boys twit Tonio. Canio and Beppe wet their whistles at the tavern,\nbut Tonio remains behind on the plea that he must curry the donkey. The\nhospitable villager playfully suggests that it is Tonio's purpose to\nmake love to Nedda. Canio, half in earnest, half in jest, points out\nthe difference between real life and the stage. In the play, if he\ncatches a lover with his wife, he flies into a mock passion, preaches a\nsermon, and takes a drubbing from the swain to the amusement of the\naudience. But there would be a different ending to the story were Nedda\nactually to deceive him. Let Tonio beware! Does he doubt Nedda's\nfidelity? Not at all. He loves her and seals his assurance with a kiss.\nThen off to the tavern.\n\nHark to the bagpipes! Huzza, here come the zampognari! Drone pipes\ndroning and chaunters skirling--as well as they can skirl in Italian!\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nNow we have people and pipers on the stage and there's a bell in the\nsteeple ringing for vespers. Therefore a chorus. Not that we have\nanything to say that concerns the story in any way. \"Din, don!\" That\nwould suffice, but if you must have more: \"Let's to church. Din, don.\nAll's right with love and the sunset. Din, don! But mamma has her eye\non the young folk and their inclination for kissing. Din, don!\" Bells\nand pipes are echoed by the singers.\n\nHer husband is gone to the tavern for refreshment and Nedda is left\nalone. There is a little trouble in her mind caused by the fierceness\nof Canio's voice and looks. Does he suspect? But why yield to such\nfancies and fears? How beautiful the mid-August sun is! Her hopes and\nlongings find expression in the \"Ballatella\"--a waltz tune with twitter\nof birds and rustle of leaves for accompaniment. Pretty birds, where\nare you going? What is it you say? Mother knew your song and used once\nto tell it to her babe. How your wings flash through the ether!\nHeedless of cloud and tempest, on, on, past the stars, and still on!\nHer wishes take flight with the feathered songsters, but Tonio brings\nher rudely to earth. He pleads for a return of the love which he says\nhe bears her, but she bids him postpone his protestations till he can\nmake them in the play. He grows desperately urgent and attempts to rape\na kiss. She cuts him across the face with a donkey whip, and he goes\naway blaspheming and swearing vengeance.\n\nThen Silvio comes--Silvio, the villager, who loves her and who has her\nheart. She fears he will be discovered, but he bids her be at peace; he\nhad left Canio drinking at the tavern. She tells him of the scene with\nTonio and warns him, but he laughs at her fears. Then he pleads with\nher. She does not love her husband; she is weary of the wandering life\nwhich she is forced to lead; if her love is true let her fly with him\nto happiness. No. 'Tis folly, madness; her heart is his, but he must\nnot tempt her to its destruction. Tonio slinks in and plays\neavesdropper. He hears the mutual protestations of the lovers, hears\nNedda yield to Silvio's wild pleadings, sees them locked in each\nother's arms, and hurries off to fetch Canio. Canio comes, but not in\ntime to see the man who had climbed over the wall, yet in time to hear\nNedda's word of parting: A stanotte--e per sempre tua saro--\"To-night,\nand forever, I am yours!\" He throws Nedda aside and gives chase after\nthe fugitive, but is baffled. He demands to be told the name of her\nlover. Nedda refuses to answer. He rushes upon her with dagger drawn,\nbut Beppe intercepts and disarms him. There is haste now; the villagers\nare already gathering for the play. Tonio insinuates his wicked advice:\nLet us dissemble; the gallant may be caught at the play. The others go\nout to prepare for their labors. Canio staggers toward the theatre. He\nmust act the merry fool, though his heart be torn! Why not? What is he?\nA man? No; a clown! On with the motley! The public must be amused. What\nthough Harlequin steals his Columbine? Laugh, Pagliaccio, though thy\nheart break!\n\nThe between-acts music is retrospective; it comments on the tragic\nemotions, the pathos foretold in the prologue. Act II brings the comedy\nwhich is to have a realistic and bloody ending. The villagers gather\nand struggle for places in front of the booth. Among them is Silvio, to\nwhom Nedda speaks a word of warning as she passes him while collecting\nthe admission fees. He reminds her of the assignation; she will be\nthere. The comedy begins to the music of a graceful minuet:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nColumbine is waiting for Harlequin. Taddeo is at the market buying the\nsupper for the mimic lovers. Harlequin sings his serenade under the\nwindow: \"O, Colombina, il tenero fido Arlecchin\"--a pretty measure!\nTaddeo enters and pours out his admiration for Colombina in an\nexaggerated cadenza as he offers her his basket of purchases. The\naudience shows enjoyment of the sport. Taddeo makes love to Colombina\nand Harlequin, entering by the window, lifts him up by the ears from\nthe floor where he is kneeling and kicks him out of the room. What fun!\nThe mimic lovers sit at table and discuss the supper and their love.\nTaddeo enters in mock alarm to tell of the coming of Pagliaccio.\nHarlequin decamps, but leaves a philtre in the hands of Columbine to be\npoured into her husband's wine. At the window Columbine calls after\nhim: A stanotte--e per sempre io saro tua! At this moment Canio enters\nin the character of Pagliaccio. He hears again the words which Nedda\nhad called after the fleeing Silvio, and for a moment is startled out\nof his character. But he collects himself and begins to play his part.\n\"A man has been here!\" \"You've been drinking!\" The dialogue of the\ncomedy continues, but ever and anon with difficulty on the part of\nPagliaccio, who begins to put a sinister inflection into his words.\nTaddeo is dragged from the cupboard in which he had taken hiding. He,\ntoo, puts color of verity into his lines, especially when he prates\nabout the purity of Columbine. Canio loses control of himself more and\nmore. \"Pagliaccio no more, but a man--a man seeking vengeance. The name\nof your lover!\" The audience is moved by his intensity. Silvio betrays\nanxiety. Canio rages on. \"The name, the name!\" The mimic audience\nshouts, \"Bravo!\" Nedda: if he doubts her she will go. \"No, by God!\nYou'll remain and tell me the name of your lover!\" With a great effort\nNedda forces herself to remain in character. The music, whose tripping\ndance measures have given way to sinister mutterings in keeping with\nCanio's mad outbursts, as the mimic play ever and anon threatens to\nleave its grooves and plunge into the tragic vortex of reality, changes\nto a gavotte:--\n\n[figure: a musical excerpt]\n\nColumbine explains: she had no idea her husband could put on so\ntragical a mask. It is only harmless Harlequin who has been her\ncompanion. \"The name! The name!! THE NAME!!!\" Nedda sees catastrophe\napproaching and throws her character to the winds. She shrieks out a\ndefiant \"No!\" and attempts to escape from the mimic stage. Silvio\nstarts up with dagger drawn. The spectators rise in confusion and cry\n\"Stop him!\" Canio seizes Nedda and plunges his knife into her: \"Take\nthat! And that! With thy dying gasps thou'lt tell me!\" Woful intuition!\nDying, Nedda calls: \"Help, Silvio!\" Silvio rushes forward and receives\nCanio's knife in his heart. \"Gesumaria!\" shriek the women. Men throw\nthemselves upon Canio. He stands for a moment in a stupor, drops his\nknife and speaks the words: \"The comedy is ended.\" \"Ridi Pagliaccio!\"\nshrieks the orchestra as the curtain falls.\n\n\"Plaudite, amici,\" said Beethoven on his death bed, \"la commedia finita\nest!\" And there is a tradition that these, too, were the last words of\nthe arch-jester Rabelais. \"When 'Pagliacci' was first sung here (in\nBoston), by the Tavary company,\" says Mr. Philip Hale, \"Tonio pointed\nto the dead bodies and uttered the sentence in a mocking way. And there\nis a report that such was Leoncavallo's original intention. As the\nTonio began the piece in explanation so he should end it. But the tenor\n(de Lucia) insisted that he should speak the line. I do not believe the\nstory. (1) As Maurel was the original Tonio and the tenor was\ncomparatively unknown, it is doubtful whether Maurel, of all men, would\nhave allowed of the loss of a fat line. (2) As Canio is chief of the\ncompany it is eminently proper that he should make the announcement to\nthe crowd. (3) The ghastly irony is accentuated by the speech when it\ncomes from Canio's mouth.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\n\"CAVALLERIA RUSTICANA\"\n\n\nHaving neither the patience nor the inclination to paraphrase a comment\non Mascagni's \"Cavalleria Rusticana\" which I wrote years ago when the\nopera was comparatively new, and as it appears to me to contain a just\nestimate and criticism of the work and the school of which it and\n\"Pagliacci\" remain the foremost exemplars, I quote from my book,\n\"Chapters of Opera\" [Footnote: \"Chapters of Opera,\" by H. E. Krehbiel,\np.223] \"Seventeen years ago 'Cavalleria Rusticana' had no perspective.\nNow, though but a small portion of its progeny has been brought to our\nnotice, we nevertheless look at it through a vista which looks like a\nvalley of moral and physical death through which there flows a sluggish\nstream thick with filth and red with blood. Strangely enough, in spite\nof the consequences which have followed it, the fierce little drama\nretains its old potency. It still speaks with a voice which sounds like\nthe voice of truth. Its music still makes the nerves tingle, and\ncarries our feelings unresistingly on its turbulent current. But the\nstage-picture is less sanguinary than it looked in the beginning. It\nseems to have receded a millennium in time. It has the terrible\nfierceness of an Attic tragedy, but it also has the decorum which the\nAttic tragedy never violated. There is no slaughter in the presence of\nthe audience, despite the humbleness of its personages. It does not\nkeep us perpetually in sight of the shambles. It is, indeed, an\nexposition of chivalry; rustic, but chivalry nevertheless. It was thus\nClytemnestra slew her husband, and Orestes his mother. Note the\ncontrast which the duel between Alfio and Turiddu presents with the\ndouble murder to the piquant accompaniment of comedy in 'Pagliacci,'\nthe opera which followed so hard upon its heels. Since then piquancy\nhas been the cry; the piquant contemplation of adultery, seduction, and\nmurder amid the reek and stench of the Italian barnyard. Think of\nCilea's 'Tilda,' Giordano's 'Mala Vita,' Spinelli's 'A Basso Porto,'\nand Tasca's 'A Santa Lucia'!\n\n\"The stories chosen for operatic treatment by the champions of verismo\nare all alike. It is their filth and blood which fructifies the music,\nwhich rasps the nerves even as the plays revolt the moral stomach. I\nrepeat: Looking back over the time during which this so-called veritism\nhas held its orgies, 'Cavalleria Rusticana' seems almost classic. Its\nmusic is highly spiced and tastes 'hot i' th' mouth,' but its eloquence\nis, after all, in its eager, pulsating, passionate melody--like the\nmusic which Verdi wrote more than half a century ago for the last act\nof 'Il Trovatore.' If neither Mascagni himself nor his imitators have\nsucceeded in equalling it since, it is because they have thought too\nmuch of the external devices of abrupt and uncouth change of modes and\ntonalities, of exotic scales and garish orchestration, and too little\nof the fundamental element of melody which once was the be-all and\nend-all of Italian music. Another fountain of gushing melody must be\nopened before 'Cavalleria rusticana' finds a successor in all things\nworthy of the succession. Ingenious artifice, reflection, and technical\ncleverness will not suffice even with the blood and mud of the slums as\na fertilizer.\"\n\nHow Mascagni came to write his opera he has himself told us in a bright\nsketch of the early part of his life-history which was printed in the\n\"Fanfulla della Domenica\" of Rome shortly after he became famous.\nRecounting the story of his struggle for existence after entering upon\nhis career, he wrote:--\n\nIn 1888 only a few scenes (of \"Ratcliff\") remained to be composed; but\nI let them lie and have not touched them since. The thought of\n\"Cavalleria rusticana\" had been in my head for several years. I wanted\nto introduce myself with, a work of small dimensions. I appealed to\nseveral librettists, but none was willing to undertake the work without\na guarantee of recompense. Then came notice of the Sonzogno competition\nand I eagerly seized the opportunity to better my condition. But my\nsalary of 100 lire, to which nothing was added, except the fees from a\nfew pianoforte lessons in Cerignola and two lessons in the Philharmonic\nSociety of Canosa (a little town a few miles from Cerignola), did not\npermit the luxury of a libretto. At the solicitation of some friends\nTargioni, in Leghorn, decided to write a \"Cavalleria rusticana\" for me.\nMy mind was long occupied with the finale. The words: Hanno ammazzato\ncompare Turiddu! (They have killed Neighbor Turiddu!) were forever\nringing in my ears. I needed a few mighty orchestral chords to give\ncharacteristic form to the musical phrase and achieve an impressive\nclose. How it happened I don't know, but one morning, as I was trudging\nalong the road to give my lessons at Canosa, the idea came to me like a\nstroke of lightning, and I had found my chords. They were those seventh\nchords, which I conscientiously set down in my manuscript.\n\nThus I began my opera at the end. When I received the first chorus of\nmy libretto by post (I composed the Siciliano in the prelude later) I\nsaid in great good humor to my wife:\n\n\"To-day we must make a large expenditure.\"\n\n\"What for?\"\n\n\"An alarm clock.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"To wake me up before dawn so that I may begin to write on 'Cavalleria\nrusticana.'\"\n\nThe expenditure caused a dubious change in the monthly budget, but it\nwas willingly allowed. We went out together, and after a good deal of\nbargaining spent nine lire. I am sure that I can find the clock, all\nsafe and sound, in Cerignola. I wound it up the evening we bought it,\nbut it was destined to be of no service to me, for in that night a son,\nthe first of a row of them, was born to me. In spite of this I carried\nout my determination, and in the morning began to write the first\nchorus of \"Cavalleria.\" I came to Rome in February, 1890, in order to\npermit the jury to hear my opera; they decided that it was worthy of\nperformance. Returning to Cerignola in a state of the greatest\nexcitement, I noticed that I did not have a penny in my pocket for the\nreturn trip to Rome when my opera was to be rehearsed. Signor Sonzogno\nhelped me out of my embarrassment with a few hundred francs.\n\nThose beautiful days of fear and hope, of discouragement and\nconfidence, are as vividly before my eyes as if they were now. I see\nagain the Constanzi Theatre, half filled; I see how, after the last\nexcited measures of the orchestra, they all raise their arms and\ngesticulate, as if they were threatening me; and in my soul there\nawakens an echo of that cry of approval which almost prostrated me. The\neffect made upon me was so powerful that at the second representation I\nhad to request them to turn down the footlights in case I should be\ncalled out; for the blinding light seemed a hell to me, like a fiery\nabyss that threatened to engulf me.\n\nIt is a rude little tale which Giovanni Verga wrote and which supplied\nthe librettists, G. Targioni-Tozzetti and G. Menasci, with the plot of\nMascagni's opera. Sententious as the opera seems, it is yet puffed out,\npadded, and bedizened with unessential ornament compared with the\nstory. This has the simplicity and directness of a folk-tale or\nfolk-song, and much of its characteristic color and strength were lost\nin fitting it out for music. The play, which Signora Duse presented to\nus with a power which no operatic singer can ever hope to match, was\nmore to the purpose, quicker and stronger in movement, fiercer in its\nonrush of passion, and more pathetic in its silences than the opera\nwith its music, though the note of pathos sounded by Signor Mascagni is\nthe most admirable element of the score. With half a dozen homely\ntouches Verga conjures up the life of a Sicilian village and strikes\nout his characters in bold outline. Turiddu Macca, son of Nunzia, is a\nbersagliere returned from service. He struts about the village streets\nin his uniform, smoking a pipe carved with an image of the king on\nhorseback, which he lights with a match fired by a scratch on the seat\nof his trousers, \"lifting his leg as if for a kick.\" Lola, daughter of\nMassaro Angelo, was his sweetheart when he was conscripted, but\nmeanwhile she has promised to marry Alfio, a teamster from Licodia, who\nhas four Sortino mules in his stable. Now Turiddu could do nothing\nbetter than sing spiteful songs under her window.\n\nLola married the teamster, and on Sundays she would sit in the yard\nwith her hands posed on her hips to show off the thick gold rings which\nher husband had given her. Opposite Alfio's house lived Massaro Cola,\nwho was as rich as a hog, as they said, and who had an only daughter\nnamed Santa. Turiddu, to spite Lola, paid his addresses to Santa and\nwhispered sweet words into her ear.\n\n\"Why don't you go and say these nice things to Lola?\" asked Santa one\nday.\n\n\"Lola is a fine lady now; she has married a crown prince. But you are\nworth a thousand Lolas; she isn't worthy of wearing your old shoes. I\ncould just eat you up with my eyes, Santa\"--thus Turiddu.\n\n\"You may eat me with your eyes and welcome, for then there will be no\nleaving of crumbs.\"\n\n\"If I were rich I would like to have a wife just like you.\"\n\n\"I shall never marry a crown prince, but I shall have a dowry as well\nas Lola when the good Lord sends me a lover.\"\n\nThe tassel on his cap had tickled the girl's fancy. Her father\ndisapproved of the young soldier, and turned him from his door; but\nSanta opened her window to him until the village gossips got busy with\nher name and his. Lola listened to the talk of the lovers from behind a\nvase of flowers. One day she called after Turiddu: \"Ah, Turiddu! Old\nfriends are no longer noticed, eh?\"\n\n\"He is a happy man who has the chance of seeing you, Lola.\"\n\n\"You know where I live,\" answered Lola. And now Turiddu visited Lola so\noften that Santa shut her window in his face and the villagers began to\nsmile knowingly when he passed by. Alfio was making a round of the\nfairs with his mules. \"Next Sunday I must go to confession,\" said Lola\none day, \"for last night I dreamt that I saw black grapes.\"\n\n\"Never mind the dream,\" pleaded Turiddu.\n\n\"But Easter is coming, and my husband will want to know why I have not\nconfessed.\"\n\nSanta was before the confessional waiting her turn when Lola was\nreceiving absolution. \"I wouldn't send you to Rome for absolution,\" she\nsaid. Alfio came home with his mules, and money and a rich holiday\ndress for his wife.\n\n\"You do well to bring presents to her,\" said Santa to him, \"for when\nyou are away your wife adorns your head for you.\"\n\n\"Holy Devil!\" screamed Alfio. \"Be sure of what you are saying, or I'll\nnot leave you an eye to cry with!\"\n\n\"I am not in the habit of crying. I haven't wept even when I have seen\nTuriddu going into your wife's house at night.\"\n\n\"Enough!\" said Alfio. \"I thank you very much.\"\n\nThe cat having come back home, Turiddu kept off the streets by day, but\nin the evenings consoled himself with his friends at the tavern. They\nwere enjoying a dish of sausages there on Easter eve. When Alfio came\nin Turiddu understood what he wanted by the way he fixed his eyes on\nhim. \"You know what I want to speak to you about,\" said Alfio when\nTuriddu asked him if he had any commands to give him. He offered Alfio\na glass of wine, but it was refused with a wave of the hand.\n\n\"Here I am,\" said Turiddu. Alfio put his arms around his neck. \"We'll\ntalk this thing over if you will meet me to-morrow morning.\"\n\n\"You may look for me on the highway at sunrise, and we will go on\ntogether.\"\n\nThey exchanged the kiss of challenge, and Turiddu, as an earnest that\nhe would be on hand, bit Alfio's ear. His companions left their\nsausages uneaten and went home with Turiddu. There his mother was\nsitting up for him.\n\n\"Mamma,\" Turiddu said to her, \"do you remember that when I went away to\nbe a soldier you thought I would never come back? Kiss me as you did\nthen, mamma, for to-morrow I am going away again.\"\n\nBefore daybreak he took his knife from the place in the haymow where he\nhad hidden it when he went soldiering, and went out to meet Alfio.\n\n\"Holy Mother of Jesus!\" grumbled Lola when her husband prepared to go\nout; \"where are you going in such a hurry?\"\n\n\"I am going far away,\" answered Alfio, \"and it will be better for you\nif I never come back!\"\n\nThe two men met on the highway and for a while walked on in silence.\nTuriddu kept his cap pulled down over his face. \"Neighbor Alfio,\" he\nsaid after a space, \"as true as I live I know that I have wronged you,\nand I would let myself be killed if I had not seen my old mother when\nshe got up on the pretext of looking after the hens. And now, as true\nas I live, I will kill you like a dog so that my dear old mother may\nnot have cause to weep.\"\n\n\"Good!\" answered Alfio; \"we will both strike hard!\" And he took off his\ncoat.\n\nBoth were good with the knife. Turiddu received the first blow in his\narm, and when he returned it struck for Alfio's heart.\n\n\"Ah, Turiddu! You really do intend to kill me?\"\n\n\"Yes, I told you so. Since I saw her in the henyard I have my old\nmother always in my eyes.\"\n\n\"Keep those eyes wide open,\" shouted Alfio, \"for I am going to return\nyou good measure!\"\n\nAlfio crouched almost to the ground, keeping his left hand on the\nwound, which pained him. Suddenly he seized a handful of dust and threw\nit into Turiddu's eyes.\n\n\"Ah!\" howled Turiddu, blinded by the dust, \"I'm a dead man!\" He\nattempted to save himself by leaping backward, but Alfio struck him a\nsecond blow, this time in the belly, and a third in the throat.\n\n\"That makes three--the last for the head you have adorned for me!\"\n\nTuriddu staggered back into the bushes and fell. He tried to say, \"Ah,\nmy dear mother!\" but the blood gurgled up in his throat and he could\nnot.\n\n\n\nMusic lends itself incalculably better to the celebration of a mood\naccomplished or achieved by action, physical or psychological, than to\nan expression of the action itself. It is in the nature of the lyric\ndrama that this should be so, and there need be no wonder that wherever\nVerga offered an opportunity for set lyricism it was embraced by\nMascagni and his librettists. Verga tells us that Turiddu, having lost\nLola, comforted himself by singing spiteful songs under her window.\nThis suggested the Siciliano, which, an afterthought, Mascagni put into\nhis prelude as a serenade, not in disparagement, but in praise of Lola.\nIt was at Easter that Alfio returned to discover the infidelity of his\nwife, and hence we have an Easter hymn, one of the musical high lights\nof the work, though of no dramatic value. Verga aims to awaken at least\na tittle of extenuation and a spark of sympathy for Turiddu by showing\nus his filial love in conflict with his willingness to make reparation\nto Alfio; Mascagni and his librettists do more by showing us the figure\nof the young soldier blending a request for a farewell kiss from his\nmother with a prayer for protection for the woman he has wronged. In\nits delineation of the tender emotions, indeed, the opera is more\ngenerous and kindly than the story. Santuzza does not betray her lover\nin cold blood as does Santa, but in the depth of her humiliation and at\nthe climax of her jealous fury created by Turiddu's rejection of her\nwhen he follows Lola into church. Moreover, her love opens the gates to\nremorse the moment she realizes what the consequence of her act is to\nbe. The opera sacrifices some of the virility of Turiddu's character as\nsketched by Verga, but by its classic treatment of the scene of the\nkilling it saves us from the contemplation of Alfio's dastardly trick\nwhich turns a duel into a cowardly assassination.\n\nThe prelude to the opera set the form which Leoncavallo followed,\nslavishly followed, in \"Pagliacci.\"\n\nThe orchestral proclamation of the moving passions of the play is made\nby the use of fragments of melody which in the vocal score mark\nclimaxes in the dialogue. The first high point in the prelude is\nreached in the strain to which Santuzza begs for the love of Turiddu\neven after she has disclosed to him her knowledge of his infidelity:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nthe second is the broad melody in which she pleads with him to return\nto her arms:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nBetween these expositions falls the Siciliano, which interrupts the\ninstrumental flood just as Lola's careless song, the Stornello,\ninterrupts the passionate rush of Santuzza's protestations, prayers,\nand lamentations in the scene between her and her faithless lover:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt setting the words \"O Lola, blanca come\nflor di spino, quando t'affaci ti s'affaccio il sole\"]\n\nThese sharp contrasts, heightened by the device of surprise, form one\nof the marked characteristics of Mascagni's score and one of the most\neffective. We meet it also in the instrumentation--the harp\naccompaniment to the serenade, the pauses which give piquancy to Lola's\nditty, the unison violins, harp arpeggios, and sustained organ chords\nof the intermezzo.\n\nWhen the curtain rises it discloses the open square of a Sicilian\nvillage, flanked by a church and the inn of Lucia, Turiddu's mother. It\nis Easter morning and villagers and peasants are gathering for the\nPaschal mass. Church bells ring and the orchestra breaks into the eager\nmelody which a little later we hear combined with the voices which are\nhymning the pleasant sights and sounds of nature:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt setting the words \"tempo e si mormori\"]\n\nA charming conception is the regular beat and flux and reflux of the\nwomen's voices as they sing\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt setting the words \"Gliaranci olezzano\nsui verdi margini cantando le allo do le tra i mirti in flor . . .\"]\n\nDelightful and refreshing is the bustling strain of the men. The\nsingers depart with soft exclamations of rapture called out by the\ncontemplation of nature and thoughts of the Virgin Mother and Child in\ntheir hearts. Comes Santuzza, sore distressed, to Mamma Lucia, to\ninquire as to the whereabouts of her son Turiddu. Lucia thinks him at\nFrancofonte; but Santuzza knows that he spent the night in the village.\n\nIn pity for the maiden's distress, Lucia asks her to enter her home,\nbut Santuzza may not--she is excommunicate. Alfio enters with\nboisterous jollity, singing of his jovial carefree life as a teamster\nand his love of home and a faithful wife. It is a paltry measure,\nendurable only for its offering of contrast, and we will not tarry with\nit, though the villagers echo it merrily. Alfio, too, has seen Turiddu,\nand Lucia is about to express her surprise when Santuzza checks her.\nThe hour of devotion is come, and the choir in the church intones the\n\"Regina coeli,\" while the people without fall on their knees and sing\nthe Resurrection Hymn. After the first outburst, to which the organ\nappends a brief postlude, Santuzza leads in the canticle, \"Innegiamo il\nSignor non dmorte\":\n\n    Let us sing of our Lord ris'n victorious!\n    Let us sing of our Lord ever glorious:--\n\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nThe instrumental basses supply a foundation of Bachian granite, the\nchorus within the church interpolates shouts of \"Alleluia!\" and the\nsong swells until the gates of sound fly wide open and we forget the\ntheatre in a fervor of religious devotion. Only the critic in his study\nought here to think of the parallel scene which Leoncavallo sought to\ncreate in his opera.\n\nThus far the little dramatic matter that has been introduced is wholly\nexpository; yet we are already near the middle of the score. All the\nstage folk enter the church save Santuzza and Lucia, and to the mother\nof her betrayer the maiden tells the story of her wrongs. The romance\nwhich she sings is marked by the copious use of one of the\ndistinguishing devices of the veritist composers--the melodic triplet,\nan efficient help for the pushing, pulsating declamation with which the\ndramatic dialogue of Mascagni, Leoncavallo, and their fellows is\ncarried on. Lucia can do no more for the unfortunate than commend her\nto the care of the Virgin. She enters the church and Turiddu comes. He\nlies as to where he has been. Santuzza is quick with accusation and\nreproach, but at the first sign of his anger and a hint of the\nvengeance which Alfio will take she abases herself. Let him beat and\ninsult her, she will love and pardon though her heart break. She is in\nthe extremity of agony and anguish when Lola is heard trolling a\ncareless song:--\n\n[figure: musical example setting the word \"Fior di giaggiolo . . gli\nangeli belli stanno a mille in cielo . . .\"]\n\nShe is about to begin a second stanza when she enters and sees the\npair.    She stops with an exclamation. She says she is seeking Alfio.\nIs Turiddu not going to mass? Santuzza, significantly: \"It is Easter\nand the Lord sees all things! None but the blameless should go to\nmass.\" But Lola will go, and so will Turiddu. Scorning Santuzza's\npleadings and at last hurling her to the ground, he rushes into the\nchurch. She shouts after him a threat of Easter vengeance and fate\nsends the agent to her in the very moment. Alfio comes and Santuzza\ntells him that Turiddu has cuckolded him and Lola has robbed her of her\nlover:--\n\n    Turiddu mi tolse, mi tolse l'onore,\n    E vostra moglie lui rapiva a me!\n\n\n[figure: musical example setting the above words]\n\nThe oncoming waves of the drama's pathos have risen to a supreme\nheight, their crests have broken, and the wind-blown spume drenches the\nsoul of the listeners; but the composer has not departed from the first\nprinciple of the master of whom, for a time, it was hoped he might be\nthe legitimate successor. Melody remains the life-blood of his music as\nit is that of Verdi's from his first work to his last;--as it will be\nso long as music endures.\n\nTerrible is the outbreak of Alfio's rage:--\n\n    Infami lero, ad esse non perdono,\n    Vendetta avro pria che tra monti il di.\n\n\n[figure: musical example setting the above words]\n\nUpon this storm succeeds the calm of the intermezzo--in its day the\nbest abused and most hackneyed piece of music that the world knew; yet\na triumph of simple, straightforward tune. It echoes the Easter hymn,\nand in the midst of the tumult of earthly passion proclaims celestial\npeace. Its instrumentation was doubtless borrowed from Hellmesberger's\narrangement of the air \"Ombra mai fu\" from \"Serse,\" known the world\nover as Handel's \"Largo\"--violins in unison, harp arpeggios, and organ\nharmonies. In nothing artistically distinguished it makes an unexampled\nappeal to the multitude. Some years ago a burlesque on \"Cavalleria\nrusticana\" was staged at a theatre in Vienna.\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nIt was part of the witty conceit of the author to have the intermezzo\nplayed on a handorgan. Up to this point the audience had been hilarious\nin its enjoyment of the burlesque, but with the first wheezy tones from\nthe grinder the people settled down to silent attention; and when the\nend came applause for the music rolled out wave after wave. A burlesque\nperformance could not rob that music of its charm. Ite missa est. Mass\nis over. The merry music of the first chorus returns. The worshippers\nare about to start homeward with pious reflections, when Turiddu\ndetains Lola and invites his neighbors to a glass of Mamma Lucia's\nwine. We could spare the drinking song as easily as Alfio, entering,\nturns aside the cup which Turiddu proffers him. Turiddu understands. \"I\nawait your pleasure.\" Some of the women apprehend mischief and lead\nLola away. The challenge is given and accepted, Sicilian fashion.\nTuriddu confesses his wrong-doing to Alfio, but, instead of proclaiming\nhis purpose to kill his enemy, he asks protection for Santuzza in case\nof his death. Then, while the violins tremble and throb, he calls for\nhis mother like an errant child:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nHe has been too free with the winecup, he says, and must leave her. But\nfirst her blessing, as when he went away to be a soldier. Should he not\nreturn, Santa must be her care: \"Voi dovrete fare; da madre a Santa!\"\nIt is the cry of a child. \"A kiss! Another kiss, mamma! Farewell!\"\nLucia calls after him. He is gone, Santuzza comes in with her phrase of\nmusic descriptive of her unhappy love. It grows to a thunderous crash.\nThen a hush! A fateful chord! A whispered roll of the drums! A woman is\nheard to shriek: \"They have killed Neighbor Turiddu!\" A crowd of women\nrush in excitedly; Santuzza and Lucia fall in a swoon. \"Hanno ammazzato\ncompare Turiddu!\" The tragedy is ended.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE CAREER OF MASCAGNI\n\n\nIt would be foolish to question or attempt to deny the merits of the\ntype of Italian opera established by Mascagni's lucky inspiration. The\nbrevity of the realistic little tragedy, the swiftness of its movement,\nits adherence to the Italian ideal of melody first, its ingenious\ncombination of song with an illuminative orchestral part--these\nelements in union created a style which the composers of Italy, France,\nand Germany were quick to adopt. \"Pagliacci\" was the first fruit of the\nmovement and has been the most enduring; indeed, so far as America and\nEngland are concerned, \"Cavalleria rusticana\" and \"Pagliacci\" are the\nonly products of the school which have obtained a lasting footing. They\nwere followed by a flood of Italian, French, and German works in which\nlow life was realistically portrayed, but, though the manner of\ncomposition was as easily copied as the subjects were found in the\nslums, none of the imitators of Mascagni and Leoncavallo achieved even\na tithe of their success. The men themselves were too shrewd and wise\nto attempt to repeat the experiment which had once been triumphant.\n\nIn one respect the influence of the twin operas was deplorable. I have\nattempted to characterize that influence in general terms, but in order\nthat the lesson may be more plainly presented it seems to me best to\npresent a few examples in detail. The eagerness with which writers\nsought success in moral muck, regardless of all artistic elements, is\nstrikingly illustrated in an attempt by a German writer, Edmund von\nFreihold, [Footnote: I owe this illustration to Ferdinand Pfobl's book\n\"Die Moderne Oper.\"] to provide \"Cavalleria rusticana\" with a sequel.\nVon Freihold wrote the libretto for a \"music drama\" which he called\n\"Santuzza,\" the story of which begins long enough after the close of\nVerga's story for both the women concerned in \"Gavalleria rusticana\" to\nhave grown children. Santuzza has given birth to a son named Massimo,\nand Lola to a daughter, Anita. The youthful pair grow up side by side\nin the Sicilian village and fall in love with one another. They might\nhave married and in a way expiated the sins of their parents had not\nAlfio overheard his wife, Lola, confess that Turiddu, not her husband,\nis the father of Anita, The lovers are thus discovered to be half\nbrother and sister. This reminder of his betrayal by Lola infuriates\nAlfio anew. He rushes upon his wife to kill her, but Santuzza, who\nhates him as the slayer of her lover, throws herself between and\nplunges her dagger in Alfio's heart. Having thus taken revenge for\nTuriddu's death, Santuzza dies out of hand, Lola, as an inferior\ncharacter, falls in a faint, and Massimo makes an end of the delectable\nstory by going away from there to parts unknown.\n\nIn Cilea's \"Tilda\" a street singer seeks to avenge her wrongs upon a\nfaithless lover. She bribes a jailor to connive at the escape of a\nrobber whom he is leading to capital punishment. This robber she elects\nto be the instrument of her vengeance. Right merrily she lives with him\nand his companions in the greenwood until the band captures the\nrenegade lover on his wedding journey. Tilda rushes upon the bride with\ndrawn dagger, but melts with compassion when she sees her victim in the\nattitude of prayer. She sinks to her knees beside her, only to receive\nthe death-blow from her seducer. There are piquant contrasts in this\npicture and Ave Marias and tarantellas in the music.\n\nTake the story of Giordano's \"Mala Vita.\" Here the hero is a young dyer\nwhose dissolute habits have brought on tuberculosis of the lungs. The\nprincipal object of his amours is the wife of a friend. A violent\nhemorrhage warns him of approaching death. Stricken with fear he rushes\nto the nearest statue of the Madonna and registers a vow; he will marry\na wanton, effect her redemption, thereby hoping to save his own\nmiserable life. The heroine of the opera appears and she meets his\nrequirements. He marries her and for a while she seems blest. But the\nsiren, the Lola in the case, winds her toils about him as the disease\nstretches him on the floor at her feet. Piquancy again, achieved now\nwithout that poor palliative, punishment of the evil-doer.\n\nTasca's \"A Santa Lucia\" has an appetizing story about an oysterman's\nson who deserts a woman by whom he has a child, in order to marry one\nto whom he had previously been affianced. The women meet. There is a\ndainty brawl, and the fiancee of Cicillo (he's the oysterman's son)\nstrikes her rival's child to the ground. The mother tries to stab the\nfiancee with the operatic Italian woman's ever-ready dagger, and this\nact stirs up the embers of Cicillo's love. He takes the mother of his\nchild back home--to his father's house, that is. The child must be some\nfour years old by this time, but the oysterman--dear, unsuspecting old\nman!--knows nothing about the relation existing between his son and his\nhousekeeper. He is thinking of marriage with his common law\ndaughter-in-law when in comes the old fiancee with a tale for Cicillo's\nears of his mistress's unfaithfulness. \"It is not true!\" shrieks the\npoor woman, but the wretch, her seducer, closes his ears to her\nprotestations; and she throws herself into the sea, where the oysters\ncome from. Cicillo rushes after her and bears her to the shore, where\nshe dies in his arms, gasping in articulo mortis, \"It is not true!\"\n\n\n\nThe romantic interest in Mascagni's life is confined to the period\nwhich preceded his sudden rise to fame. His father was a baker in\nLeghorn, and there he was born on December 7,1863. Of humble origin and\noccupation himself, the father, nevertheless, had large ambitions for\nhis son; but not in the line of art. Pietro was to be shaped\nintellectually for the law. Like Handel, the boy studied the pianoforte\nby stealth in the attic. Grown in years, he began attending a\nmusic-school, when, it is said, his father confined him to his house;\nthence his uncle freed him and took over his care upon himself.\nSingularly enough, the man who at the height of his success posed as\nthe most Italian of Italian masters had his inspiration first stirred\nby German poetry. Early in his career Beethoven resolved to set\nSchiller's \"Hymn to Joy\"; the purpose remained in his mind for forty\nyears or so, and finally became a realization in the finale of the\nNinth Symphony. Pietro Mascagni resolved as a boy to compose music for\nthe same ode; and did it at once. Then he set to work upon a two-act\nopera, \"Il Filanda.\" His uncle died, and a Count Florestan (here is\nanother Beethovenian echo!) sent him to the Conservatory at Milan,\nwhere, like nearly all of his native contemporaries, he imbibed\nknowledge (and musical ideas) from Ponchielli.\n\nAfter two years or so of academic study he yielded to a gypsy desire\nand set out on his wanderings, but not until he had chosen as a\ncompanion Maffei's translation of Heine's \"Ratcliff\"--a gloomy romance\nwhich seems to have caught the fancy of many composers. There followed\nfive years of as checkered a life as ever musician led. Over and over\nagain he was engaged as conductor of an itinerant or stationary\noperetta and opera company, only to have the enterprise fail and leave\nhim stranded. For six weeks in Naples his daily ration was a plate of\nmacaroni. But he worked at his opera steadily, although, as he once\nremarked, his dreams of fame were frequently swallowed up in the growls\nof his stomach, which caused him more trouble than many a millionaire\nsuffers from too little appetite or too much gout. Finally, convinced\nthat he could do better as a teacher of the pianoforte, he ran away\nfrom an engagement which paid him two dollars a day, and, sending off\nthe manuscript of \"Ratcliff\" in a portmanteau, settled down in\nCerignola. There he became director of a school for orchestral players,\nthough he had first to learn to play the instruments; he also taught\npianoforte and thoroughbass, and eked out a troublous existence until\nhis success in competition for the prize offered by Sonzogno, the\nMilanese publisher, made him famous in a day and started him on the\nroad to wealth.\n\nIt was but natural that, after \"Cavalleria rusticana\" had virulently\naffected the whole world with what the enemies of Signor Mascagni\ncalled \"Mascagnitis,\" his next opera should be looked forward to with\nfeverish anxiety. There was but a year to wait, for \"L'Amico Fritz\" was\nbrought forward in Rome on the last day of October, 1891. Within ten\nweeks its title found a place on the programme of one of Mr. Walter\nDamrosch's Sunday night concerts in New York; but the music was a\ndisappointment. Five numbers were sung by Mme. Tavary and Signor\nCampanini, and Mr. Damrosch, not having the orchestral parts, played\nthe accompaniments upon a pianoforte. As usual, Mr. Gustav Hinrichs was\nto the fore with a performance in Philadelphia (on June 8, 1892), the\nprincipal singers being Mme. Koert-Kronold, Clara Poole, M. Guille, and\nSignor Del Puente. On January 31, 1893, the Philadelphia singers, aided\nby the New York Symphony Society, gave a performance of the opera,\nunder the auspices of the Young Men's Hebrew Association, for the\nbenefit of its charities, at the Carnegie Music Hall, New York. Mr.\nWalter Damrosch was to have conducted, but was detained in Washington\nby the funeral of Mr. Blaine, and Mr. Hinrichs took his place. Another\nyear elapsed, and then, on January 10, 1894, the opera reached the\nMetropolitan Opera House. In spite of the fact that Madame Calve sang\nthe part of Suzel, only two performances were given to the work.\n\nThe failure of this opera did not dampen the industry of Mascagni nor\nthe zeal of his enterprising publishers. For his next opera the\ncomposer went again to the French authors, Erckmann-Chatrian, who had\nsupplied him with the story of \"L'Amico Fritz.\" This time he chose \"Les\ndeux Freres,\" which they had themselves turned into a drama with the\ntitle of \"Rantzau.\" Mascagni's librettist retained the title. The opera\ncame out in Florence in 1892. The tremendous personal popularity of the\ncomposer, who was now as much a favorite in Vienna and Berlin as he was\nin the town of his birth which had struck a medal in his honor, or the\ntown of his residence which had created him an honorary citizen, could\nnot save the work.\n\nNow he turned to the opera which he had laid aside to take up his\n\"Cavalleria,\" and in 1895 \"Guglielmo Ratcliff,\" based upon the gloomy\nScotch story told by Heine, was brought forward at La Scala, in Milan.\nIt was in a sense the child of his penury and suffering, but he had\ntaken it up inspired by tremendous enthusiasm for the subject, and\ninasmuch as most of its music had been written before success had\nturned his head, or desire for notoriety had begun to itch him, there\nwas reason to hope to find in it some of the hot blood which surges\nthrough the score of \"Cavalleria.\" As a matter of fact, critics who\nhave seen the score or heard the work have pointed out that portions of\n\"I Rantzau\" and \"Cavalleria\" are as alike as two peas. It would not be\na violent assumption that the composer in his eagerness to get his\nscore before the Sonzogno jury had plucked his early work of its best\nfeathers and found it difficult to restore plumage of equal brilliancy\nwhen he attempted to make restitution. In the same year, 1895, his next\nopera, \"Silvano,\" made a fiasco in Milan. A year later there appeared\n\"Zanetto,\" which seems like an effort to contract the frame of the\nlyric drama still further than is done in \"Cavalleria.\" It is a\nbozzetto, a sketch, based on Coppee's duologue \"Le Passant,\" a scene\nbetween a strumpet who is weary of the world and a young minstrel. Its\norchestration is unique--there are but strings and a harp. It was\nbrought out at Pesaro, where, in 1895, Mascagni had been appointed\ndirector of the Liceo Musicale Rossini.\n\nAs director of the music-school in Rossini's native town Mascagni's\ndays were full of trouble from the outset. He was opposed, said his\nfriends, in reformatory efforts by some of the professors and pupils,\nwhose enmity grew so virulent that in 1897 they spread the story that\nhe had killed himself. He was deposed from his position by the\nadministration, but reinstated by the Minister of Fine Arts. The\ncriticism followed him for years that he had neglected his duties to\ntravel about Europe, giving concerts and conducting his operas for the\ngreater glory of himself and the profit of his publisher. At the time\nof the suicide story it was also said that he was in financial straits;\nto which his friends replied that he received a salary of 60 lire ($12)\na day as director, 1000 lire ($200) a month from Sonzogno, and lived in\na princely dwelling.\n\nAfter \"Zanetto\" came \"Iris,\" to which, as the one opera besides\n\"Cavalleria rusticana\" which has remained in the American repertory, I\nshall devote the next chapter in this book. \"Iris\" was followed by \"Le\nMaschere,\" which was brought out on January 17, 1901, simultaneously in\nsix cities--Rome, Milan, Venice, Genoa, Turin, and Naples. It made an\nimmediate failure in all of these places except Rome, where it endured\nbut a short time. Mascagni's next operatic work was a lyric drama,\nentitled \"Vistilia,\" the libretto of which, based upon an historical\nnovel by Racco de Zerbi, was written by Menasci and Targioni-Tozzetti,\nwho collaborated on the book of \"Cavalleria rusticana.\" The action goes\nback to the time of Tiberius and deals with the loves of Vistilia and\nHelius. Then came another failure in the shape of \"Amica,\" which lived\nout its life in Monte Carlo, where it was produced in March, 1905.\n\nIn the winter of 1902-1903 Signor Mascagni was in the United States for\nthe purpose of conducting performances of some of his operas and giving\nconcerts. The company of singers and instrumentalists which his\nAmerican agents had assembled for his purpose was, with a few\nexceptions, composed of the usual operatic flotsam and jetsam which can\nbe picked up at any time in New York. The enterprise began in failure\nand ended in scandal. There had been no adequate preparation for the\noperas announced, and one of them was not attempted.\n\nThis was \"Ratcliff.\" \"Cavalleria rusticana,\" \"Zanetto,\" and \"Iris\" were\npoorly performed at the Metropolitan Opera House in October, and an\nattempt at Sunday night concerts was made. Signor Mascagni's countrymen\nlabored hard to create enthusiasm for his cause, but the general public\nremained indifferent. Having failed miserably in New York, Mascagni,\nheavily burdened with debt, went to Boston. There he was arrested for\nbreach of contract. He retaliated with a suit for damages against his\nAmerican managers. The usual amount of crimination and recrimination\nfollowed, but eventually the difficulties were compounded and Mascagni\nwent back to his home a sadly disillusionized man. [Footnote: The story\nof this visit is told in greater detail in my \"Chapters of Opera,\" as\nis also the story of the rivalry among American managers to be first in\nthe field with \"Cavalleria rusticana.\"]\n\n\"Zanetto\" was produced along with \"Cavalleria rusticana\" at the\nMetropolitan Opera House on October 8, 1902, and \"Iris\" on October 16.\nSignor Mascagni conducted and the parts were distributed as follows\namong the singers of the company: Iris, Marie Farneti; Osaka, Pietro\nSchiavazzi; Kyoto, Virgilio Bollati; Il Cieco, Francesco Navarrini; Una\nGuecha, Dora de Filippe; Un Mercianola, Pasquale Blasio; Un Cencianola,\nBernardino Landino. The opera was not heard of again until the season\nof 1907-1908, when, just before the end of the administration of\nHeinrich Conried, it was incorporated into the repertory of the\nMetropolitan Opera House apparently for the purpose of giving Mme. Emma\nEames an opportunity to vie with Miss Geraldine Farrar in Japanese\nopera.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\n\"IRIS\"\n\n\n\"Light is the language of the eternal ones--hear it!\" proclaims the\nlibrettist of \"Iris\" in that portion of his book which is neither said\nnor sung nor played. And it is the sun that sings with divers voices\nafter the curtain has risen on a nocturnal scene, and the orchestra has\nsought to depict the departure of the night, the break of day, the\nrevivification of the flowers and the sunrise. As Byron sang of him, so\nPhoebus Apollo celebrates himself as \"the god of life and poetry and\nlight,\" but does not stop there. He is also Infinite Beauty, Cause,\nReason, Poetry, and Love. The music begins with an all but inaudible\ndescending passage in the basses, answered by sweet concordant\nharmonies. A calm song tells of the first streaks of light; woodwind\nand harp add their voices; a mellifluous hymn chants the stirring\nflowers, and leads into a rhythmically, more incisive, but still\nsustained, orchestral song, which bears upon its surface the choral\nproclamation of the sun: \"I am! I am life! I am Beauty infinite!\" The\nflux and reflux of the instrumental surge grows in intensity, the music\nbegins to glow with color and pulsate with eager life, and reaches a\nmighty sonority, gorged with the crash of a multitude of tamtams,\ncymbals, drums, and bells, at the climacteric reiteration of \"Calore!\nLuce! Amor!\" The piece is thrillingly effective, but as little operatic\nas the tintinnabulatory chant of the cherubim in the prologue of\nBoito's \"Mefistofele.\"\n\nAnd now allegory makes room for the drama. To the door of her cottage,\nembowered on the banks of a quiet stream, comes Iris. The peak of\nFujiyama glows in the sunlight. Iris is fair and youthful and innocent.\nA dream has disturbed her. \"Gorgons and Hydras and Chimaeras dire\" had\nfilled her garden and threatened her doll, which she had put to sleep\nunder a rose-bush. But the sun's rays burst forth and the monsters\nflee. She lifts her doll and moves its arms in mimic salutation to the\nsun. Osaka, a wealthy rake, and Kyoto, a pander, play spy on her\nactions, gloat on her loveliness and plot to steal her and carry her to\nthe Yoshiwara. To this end they go to bring on a puppet show, that its\ndiversion may enable them to steal her away without discovery. Women\ncome down to the banks of the river and sing pretty metaphors as they\nwash their basketloads of muslins. Gradually the music of samisens,\ngongs, and drums approaches. Osaka and Kyoto have disguised themselves\nas travelling players, gathered together some geishas and musicians,\nand now set up a marionette theatre. Iris comforts her blind father,\nthe only object of her love, besides her doll, and promises to remain\nat his side. The puppet play tells the story of a maiden who suffers\nabuse from a cruel father, who threatens to sell her to a merchant.\nIris is much affected by the sorrows of the puppet. The voice of Jor,\nthe son of the sun, is heard--it is Osaka, singing without. The melody\nis the melody of Turridu's Siciliano, but the words are a promise of a\nblissful, kissful death and thereafter life everlasting. The puppet\ndies and with Jor dances off into Nirvana. Now three geishas,\nrepresenting Beauty, Death, and the Vampire, begin a dance. Kyoto\ndistracts the attention of the spectators while the dancers flaunt\ntheir skirts higher and wider until their folds conceal Iris, and\nOsaka's hirelings seize her and bear her off toward the city. Kyoto\nplaces a letter and money at the cottage door for the blind father.\nThrough a pedler and the woman he learns that his daughter is gone to\nbe an inmate of the Yoshiwara. He implores the people who had been\njeering him to lead him thither, that he may spit in her face and curse\nher.\n\nIris is asleep upon a bed in the \"Green House\" of the district, which\nneeds no description. A song, accompanied by the twanging of a samisen\nand the clanging of tamtams, is sung by three geishas. Kyoto brings in\nOsaka to admire her beauty, and sets a high price upon it. Osaka sends\nfor jewels. Iris awakes and speculates in philosophical vein touching\nthe question of her existence. She cannot be dead, for death brings\nknowledge and paradise joy; but she weeps. Osaka appears. He praises\nher rapturously--her form, her hair, her eyes, her mouth, her smile.\nIris thinks him veritably Jor, but he says his name is \"Pleasure.\" The\nmaiden recoils in terror. A priest had taught her in an allegory that\nPleasure and Death were one! Osaka loads her with jewels, fondles her,\ndraws her to his breast, kisses her passionately. Iris weeps. She knows\nnothing of passion, and longs only for her father, her cottage, and her\ngarden. Osaka wearies of his guest, but Kyoto plans to play still\nfurther upon his lust. He clothes her in richer robes, but more\ntransparent, places her upon a balcony, and, withdrawing a curtain,\nexhibits her beauty to the multitude in the street. Amazed cries greet\nthe revelation. Osaka returns and pleads for her love.\n\n\"Iris!\" It is the cry of the blind man hunting the child whom he thinks\nhas sold herself into disgraceful slavery. The crowd falls back before\nhim, while Iris rushes forward to the edge of the veranda and cries out\nto him, that he may know her presence. He gathers a handful of mud from\nthe street and hurls it in the direction of her voice. \"There! In your\nface! In your forehead! In your mouth! In your eyes! Fango!\" Under the\nimprecations of her father the mind of Iris gives way. She rushes along\na corridor and hurls herself out of a window.\n\nThe third act is reached, and drama merges again into allegory. In the\nwan light of the moon rag-pickers, men and women, are dragging their\nhooks through the slimy muck that flows through the open sewer beneath\nthe fatal window. They sing mockingly to the moon. A flash of light\nfrom Fujiyama awakens a glimmer in the filth. Again. They rush forward\nand pull forth the body of Iris and begin to strip it of its\nadornments. She moves and they fly in superstitious fear. She recovers\nconsciousness, and voices from invisible singers, tell her of the\nselfish inspirations of Osaka, Kyoto, and her blind father; Osaka's\ndesire baffled by fate--such is life! Kyoto's slavery to pleasure and a\nhangman's reward;--such is life! The blind man's dependence on his\nchild for creature comforts;--such is life! Iris bemoans her fate as\ndeath comes gently to her. The sky grows rosy and the light brings\nmomentary life. She stretches out her arms to the sun and acclaims the\ngrowing orb. As once upon Ida--\n\n    Glad earth perceives and from her bosom pours\n    Unbidden herbs and voluntary flow'rs!\n\nA field of blossoms spreads around her, into which she sinks, while the\nsun, again many-voiced and articulate, chants his glory as in the\nbeginning.\n\nThe story is perhaps prettier in the telling than in the performance.\nWhat there is in its symbolism and its poetical suggestion that is\ningratiating is more effective in the fancy than in the experience.\nThere are fewer clogs, fewer stagnant pools, fewer eddies which whirl\nto no purpose. In the modern school, with its distemper music put on in\nsplotches, there must be more merit and action. Psychological\ndelineation in music which stimulates action, or makes one forget the\nwant of outward movement, demands a different order of genius than that\nwhich Signor Mascagni possesses. Mere talent for artful device will not\nsuffice. There are many effective bits of expressive writing in the\nscore of \"Iris,\" but most of them are fugitive and aim at coloring a\nword, a phrase, or at best a temporary situation. There is little flow\nof natural, fervent melody. What the composer accomplished with tune,\ncharacteristic but fluent, eloquent yet sustained, in \"Cavalleria\nrusticana,\" he tries to achieve in \"Iris\" with violent, disjointed,\nshifting of keys and splashes of instrumental color. In this he is\nseldom successful, for he is not a master of orchestral writing--that\ntechnical facility which nearly all the young musicians have in the\nsame degree that all pianists have finger technic. His orchestral\nstream is muddy; his effects generally crass and empty of euphony. He\nthrows the din of outlandish instruments of percussion, a battery of\ngongs, big and little, drums, and cymbals into his score without\nachieving local color. Once only does he utilize it so as to catch the\nears and stir the fancy of his listeners--in the beginning of the\nsecond act, where there is a murmur of real Japanese melody. As a rule,\nhowever, Signor Mascagni seems to have been careless in the matter of\nlocal color, properly so, perhaps, for, strictly speaking, local color\nin the lyric drama is for comedy with its petty limitations, not for\ntragedy with its appeal to large and universal passions. Yet it is in\nthe lighter scenes, the scenes of comedy, like the marionette show, the\nscenes of mild pathos, like the monologues of Iris, and the scenes of\nmere accessory decoration, like that of the laundresses, the mousmes in\nthe first act, with its purling figure borrowed from \"Les Huguenots\"\nand its unnecessarily uncanny col legno effect conveyed from\n\"L'Africaine\" that it is most effective.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n\"MADAMA BUTTERFLY\"\n\n\nThis is the book of the generation of \"Madama Butterfly\": An adventure\nin Japan begat Pierre Loti's \"Madame Chrysantheme\"; \"Madame\nChrysantheme\" begat John Luther Long's \"Madame Butterfly,\" a story;\n\"Madame Butterfly,\" the story, begat \"Madame Butterfly,\" a play by\nDavid Belasco; \"Madame Butterfly,\" the play, begat \"Madama Butterfly,\"\nthe opera by Giacomo Puccini. The heroine of the roving French\nromanticist is therefore seen in her third incarnation in the heroine\nof the opera book which L. Illica and G. Giacosa made for Puccini. But\nin operatic essence she is still older, for, as Dr. Korngold, a\nViennese critic, pointed out, Selica is her grandmother and Lakme her\ncousin.\n\nEven this does not exhaust her family history; there is something like\na bar sinister in her escutcheon. Mr. Belasco's play was not so much\nbegotten, conceived, or born of admiration for Mr. Long's book as it\nwas of despair wrought by the failure of another play written by Mr.\nBelasco. This play was a farce entitled \"Naughty Anthony,\" created by\nMr. Belasco in a moment of aesthetic aberration for production at the\nHerald Square Theatre, in New York, in the spring of 1900. Mr. Belasco\ndoesn't think so now, but at the time he had a notion that the public\nwould find something humorous and attractive in the spectacle of a\npopular actress's leg swathed in several layers of stocking. So he made\na show of Blanche Bates. The public refused to be amused at the\nfarcical study in comparative anatomy, and when Mr. Belasco's friends\nbegan to fault him for having pandered to a low taste, and he felt the\nsmart of failure in addition, he grew heartily ashamed of himself. His\naffairs, moreover, began to take on a desperate aspect; the season\nthreatened to be a ruinous failure, and he had no play ready to\nsubstitute for \"Naughty Anthony.\" Some time before a friend had sent\nhim Mr. Long's book, but he had carelessly tossed it aside. In his\nstraits it came under his eyes again, and this time he saw a play in\nit--a play and a promise of financial salvation. It was late at night\nwhen he read the story, but he had come to a resolve by morning and in\nhis mind's eye had already seen his actors in Japanese dress. The drama\nlay in the book snugly enough; it was only necessary to dig it out and\nmaterialize it to the vision. That occupation is one in which Mr.\nBelasco is at home. The dialogue went to his actors a few pages at a\ntime, and the pictures rose rapidly in his mind. Something different\nfrom a stockinged leg now!\n\nGlimpses of Nippon--its mountains, waters, bridges, flowers, gardens,\ngeishas; as a foil to their grace and color the prosaic figures of a\nnaval officer and an American Consul. All things tinged with the bright\nlight of day, the glories of sunset or the super-glories of sunrise. We\nmust saturate the fancy of the audience with the atmosphere of Japan,\nmused Mr. Belasco. Therefore, Japanese scenes, my painter! Electrician,\nyour plot shall be worked out as carefully as the dialogue and action\nof the play's people. \"First drop discovered; house-lights down; white\nfoots with blue full work change of color at back of drop; white lens\non top of mountain; open light with white, straw, amber, and red on\nlower part of drop; when full on lower footlights to blue,\" and so on.\nMr. Belasco's emotions, we know, find eloquent expression in stage\nlights. But the ear must be carried off to the land of enchantment as\nwell as the eye. \"Come, William Furst, recall your experiences on the\nWestern coast. For my first curtain I want a quaint, soft Japanese\nmelody, pp--you know how!\"\n\nAnd so \"Madame Butterfly,\" the play, was made. In two weeks all was\nready, and a day after the first performance at the Herald Square\nTheatre, on March 5, 1900, the city began to hum with eager comment on\nthe dramatic intensity of the scene of a Japanese woman's vigil, of the\nenthralling eloquence of a motionless, voiceless figure, looking\nsteadily through a hole torn through a paper partition, with a sleeping\nchild and a nodding maid at her feet, while a mimic night wore on, the\nlanterns on the floor flickered out one by one and the soft violins\ncrooned a melody to the arpeggios of a harp.\n\nThe season at the Herald Square Theatre was saved. Some time later,\nwhen Mr. Belasco accompanied Mr. Charles Frohman to London to put on\n\"Zaza\" at the Garrick Theatre, he took \"Madame Butterfly\" with him and\nstaged it at the Duke of York's Theatre, hard by. On the first night of\n\"Madame Butterfly\" Mr. Frohman was at the latter playhouse, Mr. Belasco\nat the former. The fall of the curtain on the little Japanese play was\nfollowed by a scene of enthusiasm which endured so long that Mr.\nFrohman had time to summon his colleague to take a curtain call. At a\nstroke the pathetic play had made its fortune in London, and, as it\nturned out, paved the way for a new and larger triumph for Mr. Long's\nstory. The musical critics of the London newspapers came to the house\nand saw operatic possibilities in the drama. So did Mr. Francis\nNielson, at the time Covent Garden's stage manager, who sent word of\nthe discovery to Signor Puccini. The composer came from Milan, and\nrealized on the spot that the successor of \"Tosca\" had been found.\nSignori Illica and Giacosa, librettists in ordinary to Ricordi & Co.,\ntook the work of making the opera book in hand. Signor Illica's fancy\nhad roamed in the Land of Flowers before; he had written the libretto\nfor Mascagni's \"Iris.\" The ephemeral life of Cho-Cho-San was over in a\nfew months, but by that time \"Madama Butterfly,\" glorified by music,\nhad lifted her wings for a new flight in Milan.\n\nIt is an old story that many operas which are recognized as\nmasterpieces later, fail to find appreciation or approval when they are\nfirst produced. \"Madama Butterfly\" made a fiasco when brought forward\nat La Scala on February 17, 1904.\n\n[Footnote: At this premiere Campanini was the conductor and the cast\nwas as follows: Butterfly, Storchio; Suzuki, Giaconia; Pinkerton,\nZenatello; Sharpless, De Luca; Goro, Pini-Corsi; Bonzo, Venturini;\nYakuside, Wulmann. At the first performance in London, on July 10,\n1905, at Covent Garden, the cast was: Butterfly, Destinn; Suzuki,\nLejeune; Pinkerton, Caruso; Sharpless, Scotti; Goro, Dufriche; Bonzo,\nCotreuil; Yakuside, Rossi. Conductor, Campanini. After the revision it\nwas produced at Brescia on May 28, 1904, with Zenatello, of the\noriginal cast, Krusceniski as Butterfly, and Bellati as Sharpless. The\nfirst American performances were in the English version, made by Mrs.\nB. H. Elkin, by the Savage Opera Company, which came to the Garden\nTheatre, New York, after a trial season in Washington, on November 12,\n1906. It had a run of nearly three months before it reached the\nMetropolitan Opera House, on February 11, 1907. Mr. Walter Rothwell\nconducted the English performance, in which there were several changes\nof casts, the original Butterfly being Elza Szamozy (a Hungarian\nsinger); Suzuki, Harriet Behne; Pinkerton, Joseph F. Sheehan, and\nSharpless, Winifred Goff. Arturo Vigna conducted the first Italian\nperformance at the Metropolitan, with Geraldine Farrar as Butterfly,\nLouise Homer as Suzuki, Caruso as Pinkerton, Scotti as Sharpless, and\nAlbert Reiss as Goro.]\n\nSo complete was the fiasco that in his anxiety to withdraw the work\nSigner Puccini is said to have offered to reimburse the management of\nthe theatre for the expenditures entailed by the production. Failures\nof this kind are frequently inexplicable, but it is possible that the\nunconventional character of the story and the insensibility of the\nItalians to national musical color other than their own, had a great\ndeal to do with it in this case. Whatever the cause, the popular\nattitude toward the opera was displayed in the manner peculiar to\nItaly, the discontented majority whistling, shrilling on house keys,\ngrunting, roaring, bellowing, and laughing in the good old-fashioned\nmanner which might be set down as possessed of some virtuous merit if\nreserved for obviously stupid creations.\n\n\"The Pall Mall Gazette\" reported that at the time the composer told a\nfriend that on this fateful first night he was shut up in a small room\nbehind the scenes, where he could hear nothing of what was going on on\nthe stage or in the audience-room. On a similar occasion, nearly a\ncentury before, when \"The Barber of Seville\" scored an equally\nmonumental failure, Rossini, in the conductor's chair, faced the mob,\nshrugged his shoulders, and clapped his hands to show his contempt for\nhis judges, then went home and composedly to bed. Puccini, though he\ncould not see the discomfiture of his opera, was not permitted to\nremain in ignorance of it. His son and his friends brought him the\nnews. His collaborator, Giacosa, rushed into the room with dishevelled\nhair and staring eyes, crying: \"I have suffered the passion of death!\"\nwhile Signorina Storchio burst into such a flood of tears and sobs that\nit was feared she would be ill. Puccini was cut to the heart, but he\ndid not lose faith in the work. He had composed it in love and knew its\npotentialities, His faith found justification when he produced it in\nBrescia three months later and saw it start out at once on a triumphal\ntour of the European theatres. His work of revision was not a large or\ncomprehensive one. He divided the second act into two acts, made some\ncondensations to relieve the long strain, wrote a few measures of\nintroduction for the final scene, but refused otherwise to change the\nmusic. His fine sense of the dramatic had told him correctly when he\nplanned the work that there ought not to be a physical interruption of\nthe pathetic vigil out of which Blanche Bates in New York and Evelyn\nMillard in London had made so powerful a scene, but he yielded to the\ncompulsion of practical considerations, trying to save respect for his\nbetter judgment by refusing to call the final scene an act, though he\npermitted the fall of the curtain; but nothing can make good the loss\nentailed by the interruption. The mood of the play is admirably\npreserved in the music of the intermezzo, but the mood of the listeners\nis hopelessly dissipated with the fall of the curtain. When the scene\nof the vigil is again disclosed, the charm and the pathos have\nvanished, never to return. It is true that a rigid application of the\nlaw of unities would seem to forbid that a vigil of an entire night\nfrom eve till morning be compressed into a few minutes; but poetic\nlicense also has rights, and they could have been pleaded with\nconvincing eloquence by music, with its marvellous capacity for\npublishing the conflicting emotions of the waiting wife.\n\n\n\nHis ship having been ordered to the Asiatic station, Benjamin Franklin\nPinkerton, Lieutenant in the United States Navy, follows a custom (not\nat all unusual among naval officers, if Pierre Loti is to be believed)\nand for the summer sojourn in Japan leases a Japanese wife. (The word\n\"wife\" is a euphemism for housekeeper, companion, play-fellow,\nmistress, what not.) This is done in a manner involving little\nceremony, as is known to travellers and others familiar with the social\ncustoms of Nippon, through a nakodo, a marriage broker or matrimonial\nagent. M. Loti called his man Kangourou; Mr. Long gave his the name of\nGoro. That, however, and the character of the simple proceeding before\na registrar is immaterial. M. Loti, who assures us that his book is\nmerely some pages from a veritable diary, entertains us with some\ndetails preliminary to his launch into a singular kind of domestic\nexistence, which are interesting as bearing on the morals of the opera\nand as indicative of the fact that he is a closer observer of Oriental\nlife than his American confrere. He lets us see how merchantable\n\"wives\" are chosen, permits M. Kangourou to exhibit his wares and\nexpatiate on their merits. There is the daughter of a wealthy China\nmerchant, a young woman of great accomplishments who can write\n\"commercially\" and has won a prize in a poetic contest with a sonnet.\nShe is, consequently, very dear--100 yen, say $100--but that is of no\nconsequence; what matters is that she has a disfiguring scar on her\ncheek. She will not do. Then there is Mlle. Jasmin, a pretty girl of\nfifteen years, who can be had for $18 or $20 a month (contract\ncancellable at the end of any month for non-payment), a few dresses of\nfashionable cut and a pleasant house to live in. Mlle. Jasmin comes to\nbe inspected with one old lady, two old ladies, three old ladies (mamma\nand aunts), and a dozen friends and neighbors, big and little. Loti's\nmoral stomach revolts at the thought of buying for his uses a child who\nlooks like a doll, and is shocked at the public parade which has been\nmade of her as a commodity. He has not yet been initiated into some of\nthe extraordinary customs of Japan, nor yet into some of the\ndistinctions attendant upon those customs. He learns of one of the\nlatter when he suggests to the broker that he might marry a charming\ngeisha who had taken his fancy at a tea house. The manner in which the\nsuggestion was received convinced him that he might as well have\npurposed to marry the devil himself as a professional dancer and\nsinger. Among the train of Mlle. Jasmin's friends is one less young\nthan Mlle. Jasmin, say about eighteen, and already more of a woman; and\nwhen Loti says, \"Why not her?\" M. Kangourou trots her out for\ninspection and, discreetly sending Loti away, concludes the arrangement\nbetween night-fall and 10 o'clock, when he comes with the announcement:\n\"All is arranged, sir; her parents will give her up for $20 a\nmonth--the same price as Mlle. Jasmin.\"\n\nSo Mlle. Chrysantheme became the wife of Pierre Loti during his stay at\nNagasaki, and then dutifully went home to her mother without breaking\nher heart at all. But she was not a geisha, only a mousme--\"one of the\nprettiest words in the Nipponese language,\" comments M. Loti, \"it seems\nalmost as if there must be a little moue in the very sound, as if a\npretty, taking little pout, such as they put on, and also a little pert\nphysiognomy, were described by it.\"\n\nLieutenant Pinkerton, equally ignorant with Lieutenant Loti but\nuninstructed evidently, marries a geisha whose father had made the\nhappy dispatch at the request of the Son of Heaven after making a\nblunder in his military command. She is Cio-Cio-San, also Madama\nButterfly, and she comes to her wedding with a bevy of geishas or\nmousmes (I do not know which) and a retinue of relations. All enjoy the\nhospitality of the American officer while picking him to pieces, but\nturn from their kinswoman when they learn from an uncle, who is a\nBuddhist priest and comes late to the wedding like the wicked fairy in\nthe stories, that she has attended the Mission school and changed her\nreligion. Wherefore the bonze curses her: \"Hou, hou! Cio-Cio-San, hou,\nhou!\"\n\nSharpless, United States Consul at Nagasaki, had not approved of\nPinkerton's adventure, fearing that it might bring unhappiness to the\nlittle woman; but Pinkerton had laughed at his scruples and emptied his\nglass to the marriage with an American wife which he hoped to make some\nday. Neither Loti nor Long troubles us with the details of so prosaic a\nthing as the marriage ceremony; but Puccini and his librettists make\nmuch of it, for it provides the only opportunity for a chorus and the\nmusician had found delightfully mellifluous Japanese gongs to add a\npretty touch of local color to the music. Cio-Cio-San has been\n\"outcasted\" and Pinkerton comforts her and they make love in the\nstarlight (after Butterfly has changed her habiliments) like any pair\nof lovers in Italy. \"Dolce notte! Quante stelle! Vieni, vieni!\" for\nquantity.\n\nThis is the first act of the opera, and it is all expository to\nBelasco's \"Tragedy of Japan,\" which plays in one act, with the pathetic\nvigil separating the two days which form its period of action. When\nthat, like the second act of the opera, opens, Pinkerton has been gone\nfrom Nagasaki and his \"wife\" three years, and a baby boy of whom he has\nnever heard, but who has his eyes and hair has come to bear Butterfly\ncompany in the little house on the hill. The money left by the male\nbutterfly when he flitted is all but exhausted. Madama Butterfly\nappears to be lamentably ignorant of the customs of her country, for\nshe believes herself to be a wife in the American sense and is\nfearfully wroth with Suzuki, her maid, when she hints that she never\nknew a foreign husband to come back to a Japanese wife. But Pinkerton\nwhen he sailed away had said that he would be back \"when the robins\nnest again,\" and that suffices Cio-Cio-San. But when Sharpless comes\nwith a letter to break the news that his friend is coming back with an\nAmerican wife, he loses courage to perform his mission at the\ncontemplation of the little woman's faith in the truant. Does he know\nwhen the robins nest in America? In Japan they had nested three times\nsince Pinkerton went away. The consul quails at that and damns his\nfriend as a scoundrel. Now Goro, who knows Butterfly's pecuniary\nplight, brings Yamadori to her. Yamadori is a wealthy Japanese citizen\nof New York in the book and play and a prince in the opera, but in all\nhe is smitten with Butterfly's beauty and wants to add her name to the\nlist of wives he has conveniently married and as conveniently divorced\non his visits to his native land. Butterfly insists that she is an\nAmerican and cannot be divorced Japanese fashion, and is amazed when\nSharpless hints that Pinkerton might have forgotten her and she would\nbetter accept Yamadori's hand.\n\nFirst she orders him out of the house, but, repenting her of her\nrudeness, brings in the child to show him something that no one is\nlikely to forget. She asks the consul to write to his friend and tell\nhim that he has a son, so fine a son, indeed, that she indulges in a\nday dream of the Mikado stopping at the head of his troops to admire\nhim and make him a prince of the realm. Sharpless goes away with his\nmission unfulfilled and Suzuki comes in dragging Goro with her, for\nthat he had been spreading scandalous tales about the treatment which\nchildren born like this child receive in America. Butterfly is tempted\nto kill the wretch, but at the last is content to spurn him with her\nfoot.\n\nAt this moment a cannon shot is heard. A man-of-war is entering the\nharbor. Quick, the glasses! \"Steady my hand, Suzuki, that I may read\nthe name.\" It is the Abraham Lincoln, Pinkerton's ship! Now the cherry\ntree must give up its every blossom, every bush or vine its violets and\njessamines to garnish the room for his welcome! The garden is stripped\nbare, vases are filled, the floor is strewn with petals. Perfumes\nexhale from the voices of the women and the song of the orchestra. Here\nlocal color loses its right; the music is all Occidental. Butterfly is\ndressed again in her wedding gown of white and her pale cheeks are\ntouched up with carmine. The paper partitions are drawn against the\nnight. Butterfly punctures the shoji with three holes--one high up for\nherself to look through, standing; one lower for the maid to look\nthrough, sitting; one near the floor for the baby. And so Butterfly\nstands in an all-night vigil. The lanterns flicker and go out. Maid and\nbabe sink down in sleep. The gray dawn creeps over the waters of the\nharbor. Human voices, transformed into instruments, hum a barcarolle.\n(We heard it when Sharpless tried to read the letter.) A Japanese tune\nrises like a sailors' chanty from the band. Mariners chant their \"Yo\nho!\" Day is come. Suzuki awakes and begs her mistress to seek rest.\nButterfly puts the baby to bed, singing a lullaby. Sharpless and\nPinkerton come and learn of the vigil from Suzuki, who sees the form of\na lady in the garden and hears that it is the American wife of\nPinkerton. Pinkerton pours out his remorse melodiously. He will be\nhaunted forever by the picture of his once happy home and Cio-Cio-San's\nreproachful eyes. He leaves money for Butterfly in the consul's hands\nand runs away like a coward. Kate, the American wife, and Suzuki meet\nin the garden. The maid is asked to tell her mistress the meaning of\nthe visit, but before she can do so Butterfly sees them. Her questions\nbring out half the truth; her intuition tells her the rest. Kate (an\nawful blot she is on the dramatic picture) begs forgiveness and asks\nfor the baby boy that her husband may rear him. Butterfly says he shall\nhave him in half an hour if he will come to fetch him. She goes to the\nshrine of Buddha and takes from it a veil and a dagger, reading the\nwords engraved on its blade: \"To die with honor when one can no longer\nlive with honor.\" It is the weapon which the Mikado had sent to her\nfather. She points the weapon at her throat, but at the moment Suzuki\npushes the baby into the room. Butterfly addresses it passionately;\nthen, telling it to play, seats it upon a stool, puts an American flag\ninto its hands, a bandage around its eyes. Again she takes dagger and\nveil and goes behind a screen. The dagger is heard to fall. Butterfly\ntotters out from behind the screen with a veil wound round her neck.\nShe staggers to the child and falls, dying, at its feet. Pinkerton\nrushes in with a cry of horror and falls on his knees, while Sharpless\ngently takes up the child.\n\n\n\nI have no desire to comment disparagingly upon the denouement of the\nbook of Mr. Long or the play of Mr. Belasco which Puccini and his\nlibrettists followed; but in view of the origin of the play a bit of\ncomparative criticism seems to be imperative. Loti's \"Madame\nChrysantheme\" was turned into an opera by Andre Messager. What the\nopera was like I do not know. It came, it went, and left no sign; yet\nit would seem to be easy to guess at the reason for its quick\nevanishment. If it followed the French story, as no doubt it did, it\nwas too faithful to the actualities of Japanese life to awaken a throb\nof emotion in the Occidental heart. Without such a throb a drama is\nnaught--a sounding brass and tinkling cymbal. The charm of Loti's book\nlies in its marvellously beautiful portrayal of a country, a people,\nand a characteristic incident in the social life of that people. Its\ninterest as a story, outside of the charm of its telling, is like that\nexcited by inspection of an exotic curio. In his dedication of the book\nthe author begged Mme. la Duchesse de Richelieu not to look for any\nmeaning in it, but to receive it in the same spirit in which she would\nreceive \"some quaint bit of pottery, some grotesque carved ivory idol,\nor some preposterous trifle brought back from the fatherland of all\npreposterousness.\" It is a record of a bit of the wandering life of a\npoet who makes himself a part of every scene into which fortune throws\nhim. He has spent a summer with a Japanese mousme, whom he had married\nJapanese fashion, and when he has divorced her, also in Japanese\nfashion, with regard for all the conventions, and sailed away from her\nforever, he is more troubled by thoughts of possible contamination to\nhis own nature than because of any consequences to the woman. Before\nthe final farewell he had felt a touch of pity for the \"poor little\ngypsy,\" but when he mounted the stairs to her room for the last time he\nheard her singing, and mingled with her voice was a strange metallic\nsound, dzinn, dzinn! as of coins ringing on the floor. Is she amusing\nherself with quoits, or the jeu du crapaud, or pitch and toss? He\ncreeps in, and there, dressed for the departure to her mother's,\nsitting on the floor is Chrysantheme; and spread out around her all the\nfine silver dollars he had given her according to agreement the night\nbefore. \"With the competent dexterity of an old money changer she\nfingers them, turns them over, throws them on the floor, and armed with\na little mallet ad hoc, rings them vigorously against her ear, singing\nthe while I know not what little pensive, birdlike song, which I dare\nsay she improvises as she goes along. Well, after all, it is even more\ncompletely Japanese than I could possibly have imagined it--this last\nscene of my married life! I feel inclined to laugh.\" And he commends\nthe little gypsy's worldly wisdom, offers to make good any counterfeit\npiece which she may find, and refuses to permit her to see him go\naboard of his ship. She does, nevertheless, along with the Japanese\nwives of four of his fellow officers, who peep at their flitting\nhusbands through the curtains of their sampans. But when he is far out\non the great Yellow Sea he throws the faded lotus flowers which she had\ngiven him through the porthole of his cabin, making his best excuses\nfor \"giving to them, natives of Japan, a grave so solemn and so vast\";\nand he utters a prayer: \"O Ama-Terace-Omi-Kami, wash me clean from this\nlittle marriage of mine in the waters of the river of Kamo!\"\n\nThe story has no soul, and to give his story, which borrowed its motive\nfrom Loti's, a soul, Mr. Long had to do violence to the verities of\nJapanese life. Yet might not even a geisha feel a genuine passion?\n\n\n\nThe use of folk-tunes in opera is older than \"Madama Butterfly,\" but\nPuccini's score stands alone in the extent of the use and the\nconsistency with which Japanese melody has been made the foundation of\nthe music. When Signor Illica, one of the librettists, followed Sar\nPeladan and d'Annunzio into Nippon seeking flowers for \"Iris,\" he took\nMascagni with him--metaphorically, of course. But Mascagni was a timid\ngleaner. Puccini plucked with a bolder hand, as indeed he might, for he\nis an incomparably greater adept in the art of making musical nosegays.\nIn fact, I know of only one score that is comparable with that of\n\"Madama Butterfly\" in respect of its use of national musical color, and\nthat is \"Boris Godounoff.\" Moussorgsky, however, had more, richer, and\na greater variety of material to work with than Puccini. Japanese music\nis arid and angular, and yet so great is Puccini's skill in combining\ncreative imagination and reflection that he knew how to make it blossom\nlike a rose. Pity that he could not wholly overcome its rhythmical\nmonotony. Japanese melody runs almost uninterruptedly through his\ninstrumental score, giving way at intervals to the Italian style of\nlyricism when the characters and passions become universal rather than\nlocal types. Structurally, his score rests on the Wagnerian method, in\nthat the vocal part floats on an uninterrupted instrumental current. In\nthe orchestral part the tunes which he borrowed from the popular music\nof Japan are continuously recurrent, and fragments of them are used as\nthe connecting links of the whole fabric. He uses also a few typical\nthemes (Leitmotive) of his own invention, and to them it might be\npossible, by ingenious study of their relation to text and situation,\nto attach significances in the manner of the Wagnerian handbooks; but I\ndo not think that such processes occupied the composer's mind to any\nconsiderable extent, and the themes are not appreciably characteristic.\nHis most persistent use of a connecting link, arbitrarily chosen, is\nfound in the case of the first motive of the theme, which he treats\nfugally in the introduction, and which appears thereafter to the end of\nthe chapter (a, in the list of themes printed herewith). What might be\ncalled personal themes are the opening notes of \"The Star-Spangled\nBanner\" for Pinkerton and the melody (d) which comes in with Yamadori,\nin which the Japanese tune used by Sir Arthur Sullivan in \"The Mikado\"\nis echoed. The former fares badly throughout the score (for which no\nblame need attach to Signor Puccini), but the latter is used with\ncapital effect, though not always in connection with the character.\n\nIf Signor Puccini had needed the suggestion that Japanese music was\nnecessary for a Japanese play (which of course he did not), he might\nhave received it when he saw Mr. Belasco's play in London. For the\nincidental music in that play Mr. William Furst provided Japanese\ntunes, or tunes made over the very convenient Japanese last. Through\nMr. Belasco's courtesy I am able to present here a relic of this\noriginal \"Butterfly\" music. The first melody (a) was the theme of the\ncurtain-music; (b) that accompanying Cho-Cho-San, when discovered at\nthe beginning spraying flowers, presenting an offering at the shrine\nand burning incense in the house at the foot of Higashi hill; (c) the\nYamadori music; (d) the music accompanying the first production of the\nsword; (e) the music of the vigil. There were also two Occidental\npieces--the melody of a little song which Pinkerton had taught\nCho-Cho-San, \"I Call Her the Belle of Japan,\" and \"Rock-a-bye, Baby.\"\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nThemes from Puccini's \"Butterfly\" music By permission of Ricordi & Co.\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nMeiodies from Mr. Furst's \"Butterfly\" music By permission of Mr. David\nBelasco.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\n\"DER ROSENKAVALIER\"\n\n\nIn the beginning there was \"Guntram,\" of which we in America heard only\nfragmentary echoes in our concert-rooms. Then came \"Feuersnot,\" which\nreached us in the same way, but between which and the subject which is\nto occupy me in this chapter there is a kinship through a single\ninstrumental number, the meaning of which no commentator has dared more\nthan hint at. It is the music which accompanies the episode, politely\ntermed a \"love scene,\" which occurs at the climax of the earlier opera,\nbut is supposed to take place before the opening of the curtain in the\nlater. Perhaps I shall recur to them again--if I have the courage.\n\nThese were the operas of Richard Strauss which no manager deemed it\nnecessary or advisable to produce in New York. Now came \"Salome.\"\nPopular neurasthenia was growing. Oscar Wilde thought France might\naccept a glorification of necrophilism and wrote his delectable book in\nFrench. France would have none of it, but when it was done into German,\nand Richard Strauss accentuated its sexual perversity by his hysterical\nmusic, lo! Berlin accepted it with avidity. The theatres of the\nPrussian capital were keeping pace with the pathological spirit of the\nday, and were far ahead of those of Paris, where, it had long been the\nhabit to think, moral obliquity made its residence. If Berlin, then why\nnot New York? So thought Mr. Conned, saturated with German\ntheatricalism, and seeing no likely difference in the appeal of a\n\"Parsifal\" which he had successfully produced, and a \"Salome,\" he\nprepared to put the works of Wagner and Strauss on the same footing at\nthe Metropolitan Opera House. An influence which has not yet been\nclearly defined, but which did not spring from the director of the\nopera nor the gentlemen who were his financial backers, silenced the\nmaunderings of the lust-crazed Herod and paralyzed the contortions of\nthe lascivious dancer to whom he was willing to give one-half his\nkingdom. [Footnote: For the story of \"Salome\" in New York, see my\n\"Chapters of Opera\" (Henry Holt & Co., New York), p. 343 et seq.]\n\nNow Mr. Hammerstein came to continue the artistic education which the\nowners of the Metropolitan Opera House had so strangely and\nunaccountably checked. Salome lived out her mad life in a short time,\ndying, not by the command of Herod, but crushed under the shield of\npopular opinion. The operation, though effective, was not as swift as\nit might have been had operatic conditions been different than they are\nin New York, and before it was accomplished a newer phase of Strauss's\npathological art had offered itself as a nervous, excitation. It was\n\"Elektra,\" and under the guise of an ancient religious ideal, awful but\npathetic, the people were asked to find artistic delight in the\ncontemplation of a woman's maniacal thirst for a mother's blood. It is\nnot necessary to recall the history of the opera at the Manhattan Opera\nHouse to show that the artistic sanity of New York was proof against\nthe new poison.\n\nHugo von Hoffmannsthal had aided Strauss in this brew and collaborated\nwith him in the next, which, it was hoped, probably because of the\ndifference in its concoction and ingredients, would make his rein even\nmore taut than it had ever been on theatrical managers and their\npublic. From the Greek classics he turned to the comedy of the\nBeaumarchais period. Putting their heads together, the two wrote \"Der\nRosenkavalier.\" It was perhaps shrewd on their part that they avoided\nall allusion to the opera buffa of the period and called their work a\n\"comedy for music.\" It enabled them, in the presence of the ignorant,\nto assume a virtue which they did not possess; but it is questionable\nif that circumstance will help them any. It is only the curious critic\nnowadays who takes the trouble to look at the definition, or epithet,\non a title page. It is the work which puts the hallmark on itself; not\nthe whim of the composer. It would have been wise, very wise indeed,\nhad Hoffmannsthal avoided everything which might call up a comparison\nbetween himself and Beaumarchais. It was simply fatal to Strauss that\nhe tried to avoid all comparison between his treatment of an eighteenth\ncentury comedy and Mozart's. One of his devices was to make use of the\nsystem of musical symbols which are irrevocably associated with\nWagner's method of composition. Mozart knew nothing of this system, but\nhe had a better one in his Beaumarchaisian comedy, which \"Der\nRosenkavalier\" recalls; it was that of thematic expression for each new\nturn in the dramatic situation--a system which is carried out so\nbrilliantly in \"Le Nozze di Figaro\" that there is nothing, even in \"Die\nMeistersinger,\" which can hold a candle to it. Another was to build up\nthe vocal part of his comedy on orchestral waltzes. Evidently it was\nhis notion that at the time of Maria Theresa (in whose early reign the\nopera is supposed to take place) the Viennese world was given over to\nthe dance. It was so given over a generation later, so completely,\nindeed, that at the meetings in the ridotto, for which Mozart, Haydn,\nGyrowetz, Beethoven, and others wrote music, retiring rooms had to be\nprovided for ladies who were as unprepared for possible accidents as\nwas one of those described by Pepys as figuring in a court ball in his\ntime; but to put scarcely anything but waltz tunes under the dialogue\nof \"Der Rosenkavalier\" is an anachronism which is just as disturbing to\nthe judicious as the fact that Herr Strauss, though he starts his\nhalf-dozen or more of waltzes most insinuatingly, never lets them run\nthe natural course which Lanner and the Viennese Strauss, who suggested\ntheir tunes, would have made them do. Always, the path which sets out\nso prettily becomes a byway beset with dissonant thorns and thistles\nand clogged with rocks.\n\nAll of this is by way of saying that \"Der Rosenkavalier\" reached New\nYork on December 9, 1913, after having endured two years or so in\nEurope, under the management of Mr. Gatti-Casazza, and was treated with\nthe distinction which Mr. Conried gave \"Parsifal\" and had planned for\n\"Salome.\" It was set apart for a performance outside the subscription,\nspecial prices were demanded, and the novelty dressed as sumptuously\nand prepared with as lavish an expenditure of money and care as if it\nwere a work of the very highest importance. Is it that? The question is\nnot answered by the fact that its music was composed by Richard\nStrauss, even though one be willing to admit that Strauss is the\ngreatest living master of technique in musical composition, the one\nconcerning whose doings the greatest curiosity is felt and certainly\nthe one whose doings are the best advertised. \"Der Rosenkavalier,\" in\nspite of all these things, must stand on its merits--as a comedy with\nmusic. The author of its book has invited a comparison which has\nalready been suggested by making it a comedy of intrigue merely and\nplacing its time of action in Vienna and the middle of the eighteenth\ncentury. He has gone further; he has invoked the spirit of Beaumarchais\nto animate his people and his incidents. The one thing which he could\nnot do, or did not do, was to supply the satirical scourge which\njustified the Figaro comedies of his great French prototype and which,\nwhile it made their acceptance tardy, because of royal and courtly\nopposition, made their popular triumph the more emphatic. \"Le Nozze di\nFigaro\" gave us more than one figure and more than one scene in the\nrepresentation, and \"Le Nozze di Figaro\" is to those who understand its\ntext one of the most questionable operas on the current list. But there\nis a moral purpose underlying the comedy which to some extent justifies\nits frank salaciousness. It is to prevent the Count from exercising an\nancient seigniorial right over the heroine which he had voluntarily\nresigned, that all the characters in the play unite in the intrigue\nwhich makes up the comedy. Moreover, there are glimpses over and over\nagain of honest and virtuous love between the characters and beautiful\nexpressions of it in the music which makes the play delightful, despite\nits salaciousness. Even Cherubino who seems to have come to life again\nin Octavian, is a lovable youth if for no othe reason than that he\nrepresents youth in its amorousness toward all womankind, with thought\nof special mischief toward none.\n\n\"Der Rosenkavalier\" is a comedy of lubricity merely, with what little\nsatirical scourge it has applied only to an old roue who is no more\ndeserving of it than most of the other people in the play. So much of\nits story as will bear telling can be told very briefly. It begins,\nassuming its instrumental introduction (played with the scene\ndiscreetly hidden) to be a part of it, with a young nobleman locked in\nthe embraces of the middle-aged wife of a field marshal, who is\nconveniently absent on a hunting expedition. The music is of a\npassionate order, and the composer, seeking a little the odor of\nvirtue, but with an oracular wink in his eye, says in a descriptive\nnote that it is to be played in the spirit of parody (parodistisch).\nUnfortunately the audience cannot see the printed direction, and there\nis no parody in music except extravagance and ineptitude in the\nutterance of simple things (like the faulty notes of the horns in\nMozart's joke on the village musicians, the cadenza for violin solo in\nthe same musical joke, or the twangling of Beckmesser's lute); so the\nintroduction is an honest musical description of things which the\ncomposer is not willing to confess, and least of all the stage manager,\nfor when the curtain opens there is not presented even the picture\ncalled for by the German libretto. Nevertheless, morn is dawning, birds\nare twittering, and the young lover, kneeling before his mistress on a\ndivan, is bemoaning the fact that day is come and that he cannot\npublish his happiness to the world. The tete-a-tete is interrupted by a\nrude boor of a nobleman, who come to consult his cousin (the princess)\nabout a messenger to send with the conventional offering of a silver\nrose to the daughter of a vulgar plebeian just elevated to the nobility\nbecause of his wealth. The conversation between the two touches on\nlittle more than old amours, and after the lady has held her levee\ndesigned to introduce a variety of comedy effects in music as well as\naction, the princess recommends her lover for the office of rosebearer.\nMeanwhile the lover has donned the garments of a waiting maid and been\noverwhelmed with the wicked attentions of the roue, Lerchenau. When the\nlovers are again alone there is a confession of renunciation on the\npart of the princess, based on the philosophical reflection that, after\nall, her Octavian being so young would bring about the inevitable\nparting sooner or later.\n\nIn the second act what the princess in her prescient abnegation had\nforeseen takes place. Her lover carries the rose to the young woman\nwhom the roue had picked out for his bride and promptly falls in love\nwith her. She with equal promptness, following the example of Wagner's\nheroines, bowls herself at his head. The noble vulgarian complicates\nmatters by insisting that he receive a dowry instead of paying one. The\nyoung hot-blood adds to the difficulties by pinking him in the arm with\nhis sword, but restores order at the last by sending him a letter of\nassignation in his first act guise of a maid servant of the princess.\n\nThis assignation is the background of the third act, which is farce of\nthe wildest and most vulgar order. Much of it is too silly for\ndescription. Always, however, there is allusion to the purpose of the\nmeeting on the part of Lerchenau, whose plans are spoiled by\napparitions in all parts of the room, the entrance of the police, his\npresumptive bride and her father, a woman who claims him as her\nhusband, four children who raise bedlam (and memories of the\ncontentious Jews in \"Salome\"); by shouting \"Papa! papa!\" until his mind\nis in a whirl and he rushes out in despair. The princess leaves the\nnew-found lovers alone.\n\nThey hymn their happiness in Mozartian strains (the melody copied from\nthe second part of the music with which Papageno sets the blackamoors\nto dancing in \"Die Zauberflote\"), the orchestra talks of the matronly\nrenunciation of the princess, enthusiastic Straussians of a musical\nparallel with the quintet from Wagner's \"Meistersinger,\" and the opera\ncomes to an end after three and one-half hours of more or less\nunintelligible dialogue poised on waltz melodies.\n\nI have said unintelligible dialogue. For this unintelligibility there\nare two reasons-the chief one musical, the other literary. Though\nStrauss treats his voices with more consideration in \"Der\nRosenkavalier\" than in his tragedies, he still so overburdens them that\nthe words are distinguishable only at intervals. Only too frequently he\ncrushes them with orchestral voices, which in themselves are not\noverwhelming--the voices of his horns, for instance, for which he shows\na particular partiality. His style of declamation is melodic, though it\nis only at the end of the opera that he rises to real vocal melody; but\nit seems to be put over an orchestral part, and not the orchestral part\nput under it. There is no moment in which he can say, as Wagner\ntruthfully and admiringly said of the wonderful orchestral music of the\nthird act of \"Tristan und Isolde,\" that all this swelling instrumental\nsong existed only for the sake of what the dying Tristan was saying\nupon his couch. All of Strauss's waltzes seem to exist for their own\nsake, which makes the disappointment greater that they are not carried\nthrough in the spirit in which they are begun; that is, the spirit of\nthe naive Viennese dance tune.\n\nA second reason for the too frequent unintelligibility of the text is\nits archaic character. Its idioms are eighteenth century as well as\nViennese, and its persistent use of the third person even among\nindividuals of quality, though it gives a tang to the libretto when\nread in the study, is not welcome when heard with difficulty. Besides\nthis, there is use of dialect--vulgar when assumed by Octavian, mixed\nwhen called for by such characters as Valzacchi and his partner in\nscandal mongery, Annina. To be compelled to forego a knowledge of half\nof what such a master of diction as Mr. Reiss was saying was a new\nsensation to his admirers who understand German. Yet the fault was as\nlittle his as it was Mr. Goritz's that so much of what he said went for\nnothing; it was all his misfortune, including the fact that much of the\nmusic is not adapted to his voice.\n\nThe music offers a pleasanter topic than the action and dialogue. It is\na relief to those listeners who go to the opera oppressed with memories\nof \"Salome\" and \"Elektra.\" It is not only that their ears are not so\noften assaulted by rude sounds, they are frequently moved by phrases of\ngreat and genuine beauty. Unfortunately the Straussian system of\ncomposition demands that beauty be looked for in fragments. Continuity\nof melodic flow is impossible to Strauss--a confession of his inability\neither to continue Wagner's method, to improve on it, or invent\nanything new in its place. The best that has been done in the Wagnerian\nline belongs to Humperdinck.\n\n[Footnote: \"Der Rosenkavalier\" had its first American production at the\nMetropolitan Opera House, New York, on December 9, 1913, the cast being\nas follows:--\n\n  Feldmarschallin Furstin Werdenberg............ Frieda Hempel\n  Baron Ochs auf Lerchenau...................... Otto Goritz\n  Octavian, genannt Quinquin.................... Margarete Ober\n  Herr von Faninal.............................. Hermann Weil\n  Sophie, seine Tochter......................... Anna Case\n  Jungfer Marianne Leitmetzerin................. Rita Fornia\n  Valzacchi, ein Intrigant...................... Albert Reiss\n  Annina, seine Begleiterin..................... Marie Mattfeld\n  Ein Polizeikommissar.......................... Carl Schlegel\n  Haushofmeister der Feldmarschalh'n............ Pietro Audisio\n  Haushofmeister bei Faninal.................... Lambert Murphy\n  Ein Notar..................................... Basil Ruysdael\n  Ein Wirt...................................... Julius Bayer\n  Ein Sanger.................................... Carl Jorn\n  Drei adelige Waisen........................... Louise Cox\n                                                 Rosina Van Dyck\n                                                 Sophie Braslau\n  Eine Modistin................................. Jeanne Maubourg\n  Ein Lakai..................................... Ludwig Burgstaller\n  Ein kleiner Neger............................. Ruth Weinstein\n\n  Conductor--Alfred Hertz]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\n\"Konigskinder\"\n\n\nOnce upon a time a witch cast a spell upon a king's daughter and held\nher in servitude as a gooseherd. A prince found her in the forest and\nloved her. She loved him in return, and would gladly have gone away\nfrom her sordid surroundings with him, though she had spurned the crown\nwhich he had offered her in exchange for her wreath of flowers; but\nwhen she escaped from her jailer she found that she could not break the\ncharm which held her imprisoned in the forest. Then the prince left the\ncrown lying at her feet and continued his wanderings. Scarcely had he\ngone when there came to the hut of the witch a broommaker and a\nwoodchopper, guided by a wandering minstrel. They were ambassadors from\nthe city of Hellabrunn, which had been so long without a king that its\nboorish burghers themselves felt the need of a ruler in spite of their\nboorishness. To the wise woman the ambassadors put the questions: Who\nshall be this ruler and by what sign shall they recognize him? The\nwitch tells them that their sovereign shall be the first person who\nenters their gates after the bells have rung the noon hour on the\nmorrow, which is the day of the Hella festival. Then the minstrel\ncatches sight of the lovely goose-girl, and through the prophetic gift\npossessed by poets he recognizes in her a rightly born princess for his\npeople. By the power of his art he is enabled to put aside the\nthreatening spells of the witch and compel the hag to deliver the\nmaiden into his care. He persuades her to break the enchantment which\nhad held her bound hitherto and defy the wicked power.\n\nMeanwhile, however, grievous misfortunes have befallen the prince, her\nlover. He has gone to Hellabrunn, and desiring to learn to serve in\norder that he might better know how to rule, he had taken service as a\nswineherd. The daughter of the innkeeper becomes enamoured of the\nshapely body of the prince, whose proud spirit she cannot understand,\nand who has repulsed her advances. His thoughts go back to the\ngoosegirl whose wreath, with its fresh fragrance, reminds him of his\nduty. He attempts to teach the burghers their own worth, but the wench\nwhose love he had repulsed accuses him of theffy and he is about to be\nled off to prison when the bells peal forth the festal hour.\n\nJoyfully the watchmen throw open the strong town gates and the\nmultitude and gathered councillors fall back to receive their king. But\nthrough the doors enters the gooseherd, proudly wearing her crown and\nfollowed by her flock and the minstrel The lovers fall into each\nother's arms, but only the poet and a little child recognize them as of\nroyal blood. The boorish citizens, who had fancied that their king\nwould appear in regal splendor, drive the youth and maiden out with\ncontumely, burn the witch and cripple the minstrel by breaking one of\nhis legs on the wheel. Seeking his home, the prince and his love lose\ntheir way in the forest during a snowstorm and die of a poisoned loaf\nmade by the witch, for which the prince had bartered his broken crown,\nunder the same tree which had sheltered them on their first meeting;\nbut the children of Hellabrunn, who had come out in search of them,\nguided by a bird, find their bodies buried under the snow and give them\nroyal acclaim and burial. And the prescient minstrel hymns their\nvirtues.\n\nThis is the story of Engelbert Humperdinck's opera \"Konigskinder,\"\nwhich had its first performance on any stage at the Metropolitan Opera\nHouse, New York, on December 28,1910, with the following cast:\n\n  Der Konigssohn......................Herman Jadlowker\n  Die Gansemagd.......................Geraldine Farrar\n  Der Spielmann........................... Otto Goritz\n  Die Hexe................................Louise Homer\n  Der Holzhacker.......................... Adamo Didur\n  Der Besenbinder........................ Albert Reiss\n  Zwei Kinder..............Edna Walter and Lotte Engel\n  Der Ratsalteste....................... Marcel Reiner\n  Der Wirt..........................Antonio Pini-Corsi\n  Die Wirtstochter................... Florence Wickham\n  Der Schneider.......................... Julius Bayer\n  Die Stallmagd.........................Marie Mattfeld\n  Zwei Torwachter..... Ernst Maran and William Hinshaw\n\n  Conductor: Alfred Hertz\n\n\nTo some in the audience the drama was new only in the new operatic\ndress with which Humperdinck had clothed it largely at the instance of\nthe Metropolitan management. It had been known as a spoken play for\ntwelve years and three of its musical numbers--the overture and two\npieces of between-acts music--had been in local concert-lists for the\nsame length of time. The play had been presented with incidental music\nfor many of the scenes as well as the overture and entr'actes in 1898\nin an extremely interesting production at the Irving Place Theatre,\nthen under the direction of Heinrich Conried, in which Agnes Sorma and\nRudolf Christians had carried the principal parts. It came back four\nyears later in an English version at the Herald Square Theatre, but\nneither in the German nor the English performance was it vouchsafed us\nto realize what had been the purpose of the author of the play and the\ncomposer of the music.\n\nThe author, who calls herself Ernst Rosmer, is a woman, daughter of\nHeinrich Forges, for many years a factotum at the Bayreuth festivals.\nIt was her father's devotion to Wagner which gave her the name of Elsa.\nShe married a lawyer and litterateur in Munich named Bernstein, and has\nwritten a number of plays besides \"Konigskinder,\" which she published\nin 1895, and afterward asked Herr Humperdinck (not yet a royal Prussian\nprofessor, but a simple musician, who had made essays in criticisms and\ntried to make a composer out of Siegfried Wagner) to provide with\nincidental music. Mr. Humperdinck took his task seriously. The play,\nwith some incidental music, was two years old before Mr. Humperdinck\nhad his overture ready. He had tried a new experiment, which proved a\nfailure. The second and third acts had their preludes, and the songs of\nthe minstrel had their melodies and accompaniments, and all the\nprincipal scenes had been provided with illustrative music in the\nWagnerian manner, with this difference, that the dialogue had been\n\"pointed,\" as a church musician would say--that is, the rhythm was\nindicated with exactness, and even the variations of pitch, though it\nwas understood that the purpose was not to achieve song, but an\nintensified utterance, halfway between speech and song. This was\nmelodrama, as Herr Humperdinck conceived it and as it had no doubt\nexisted for ages--ever since the primitive Greek drama, in fact. It is\neasy to understand how Herr Humperdinck came to believe in the\npossibility of an art-form which, though accepted, for temporary\neffect, by Beethoven and Cherubini, and used for ballads with greater\nor less success by Schumann, had been harshly rejected by his great\nmodel and master, Wagner. Humperdinck lives in Germany, where in nearly\nevery theatre there is more or less of an amalgamation of the spoken\ndrama and the opera--where choristers play small parts and actors,\nthough not professional singers, sing when not too much is required of\nthem. And yet Herr Humperdinck found out that he had asked too much of\nhis actors with his \"pointed\" and at times intoned declamation, and\n\"Konigskinder\" did not have to come to America to learn that the\ncompromise was a failure. No doubt Herr Humperdinck thought of turning\nso beautiful a play into an opera then, but it seems to have required\nthe stimulus which finally came from New York to persuade him to carry\nout the operatic idea, which is more than suggested in the score as it\nlies before me in its original shape, into a thorough lyric drama. The\nset pieces which had lived in the interim in the concert-room were\ntransferred into the opera-score with trifling alterations and\ncondensations and so were the set songs. As for the rest it needed only\nthat note-heads be supplied to some of the portions of the dialogue\nwhich Humperdinck had designed for melodic declamation to have those\nportions ready for the opera. Here an example:--\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nA German opera can generally stand severer criticism than one in\nanother language, because there is a more strict application of\nprinciples in Germany when it comes to writing a lyric drama than in\nany other country. So in the present instance there is no need to\nconceal the fact that there are outbreaks of eroticism and offences\nagainst the German language which are none the less flagrant and\ncensurable because they are, to some extent, concealed under the thin\nveneer of the allegory and symbolism which every reader must have\nrecognized as running through the play. This is, in a manner,\nWagnerian, as so much of the music is Wagnerian--especially that of the\nsecond act, which because it calls up scenes from the \"Meistersinger\"\nmust also necessarily call up music from the same comedy. But there is\nlittle cause here for quarrel with Professor Humperdinck. He has\napplied the poetical principle of Wagner to the fairy tale which is so\nclosely related to the myth, and he has with equal consistency applied\nWagner's constructive methods musically and dramatically. It is to his\ngreat honor that, of all of Wagner's successors, he has been the only\none to do so successfully.\n\nThe story of \"Konigskinder,\" though it belongs to the class of fairy\ntales of which \"Hansel und Gretel\" is so striking and beautiful an\nexample, is not to be found as the author presents it in the literature\nof German Marchen. Mme. Bernstein has drawn its elements from many\nsources and blended them with the utmost freedom. To avoid a\nmisunderstanding Germans will insist that the title be used without the\narticle, for \"Die Konigskinder\" or \"Zwei Konigskinder\" both suggest the\nsimple German form of the old tale of Hero and Leander, with which\nstory, of course, it has nothing whatever to do. But if literary\ncriticism forbids association between Humperdinck's two operas, musical\ncriticism compels it. Many of the characters in the operas are close\nrelations, dramatically as well as musically--the royal children\nthemselves, the witches, of course, and the broom-makers. The rest of\nthe characters have been taken from Wagner's \"Meistersinger\" picture\nbook; the citizens of Hellabrunn are Nuremberg's burghers, the city's'\ncouncillors, the old master singers. The musical idiom is\nHumperdinck's, though its method of employment is Wagner's. But here\nlies its charm: Though the composer hews to a theoretical line, he does\nit freely, naturally, easily, and always with the principle of musical\nbeauty as well as that of dramatic truthfulness and propriety in view.\nHis people's voices float on a symphonic stream, but the voices of the\ninstruments, while they sing on in endless melody, use the idiom which\nnature gave them. There is admirable characterization in the orchestral\nmusic, but it is music for all that; it never descends to mere noise,\ndesigned to keep up an irritation of the nerves.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\n\"BORIS GODOUNOFF\"\n\n\nFrom whatever point of view it may be considered Mossourgsky's opera\n\"Boris Godounoff\" is an extraordinary work. It was brought to the\nnotice of the people of the United States by a first performance at the\nMetropolitan Opera House, in New York, on March 19, 1913, but\nintelligence concerning its character had come to observers of musical\ndoings abroad by reports touching performances in Paris and London. It\nis possible, even likely, that at all the performances of the work\noutside of Russia those who listened to it with the least amount of\nintellectual sophistication derived the greatest pleasure from it,\nthough to them its artistic deficiencies must also have been most\nobvious. Against these deficiencies, however, it presented itself,\nfirst of all, as a historical play shot through and through with a\nlarge theme, which, since it belongs to tragedy, is universal and\nunhampered by time or place or people. To them it had something of the\nsweep, dignity, and solemnity and also something of the dramatic\nincongruity and lack of cohesion of a Shakespearian drama as\ncontradistinguished from the coherence of purpose and manner of a\nmodern drama.\n\nTo them also it had much strangeness of style, a style which was not\neasily reconciled to anything with which the modern stage had made them\nfamiliar. They saw and heard the chorus enter into the action, not for\nthe purpose of spectacular pageantry, nor as hymners of the\nachievements of the principal actors in the story, but as participants.\nThey heard unwonted accents from these actors and saw them behave in\nconduct which from moment to moment appeared strangely contradictory.\nThere were mutterings of popular discontent, which, under threats, gave\nway to jubilant acclamation in the first great scenes in the beginning\nof the opera. There were alternate mockeries and adulations in the next\nscene in which the people figured; and running through other scenes\nfrom invisible singers came ecclesiastical chants, against which were\nprojected, not operatic song in the old conception, but long passages\nof heightened speech, half declamatory, half musical. A multitude\ncringed before upraised knouts and fell on its knees before the\napproach of a man whose agents swung the knotted cords; anon they\nacclaimed the man who sought to usurp a throne and overwhelmed with\nridicule a village imbecile, who was yet supposed because of his mental\nweakness to be possessed of miraculous prescience, and therefore to\nhave a prevision of what was to follow the usurpation. They saw the\nincidents of the drama moving past their eyes within a framework of\nbarbaric splendor typical of a wonderful political past, an amazing\npolitical present, and possibly prophetic of a still more amazing\npolitical future.\n\nThese happily ingenuous spectators saw an historical personage racked\nby conscience, nerve-torn by spectres, obsessed by superstitions,\nstrong in position achieved, yet pathetically sweet and moving in his\nexhibition of paternal love, and going to destruction through remorse\nfor crime committed. They were troubled by no curious questionings as\nto the accuracy of the historical representation. The Boris Godounoff\nbefore them was a remorse-stricken regicide, whose good works, if he\ndid any, had to be summed up for their imagination in the fact that he\nloved his son. In all this, and also in some of its music, the new\nopera was of the opera operatic. But to the unhappily disingenuous (or\nperhaps it would be better to say, to the instructed) there was much\nmore in the new opera; and it was this more which so often gave\njudgment pause, even while it stimulated interest and irritated\ncuriosity. It was a pity that a recent extraordinary outburst of\nenthusiasm about a composer and an opera should have had the effect of\ndistorting their vision and disturbing their judgment.\n\nThere was a reason to be suspicious touching this enthusiasm, because\nof its origin. It came from France and not from the home land of the\nauthor of the play or the composer of the music. Moreover, it was\nlargely based upon an element which has as little genuineness in France\nas a basis of judgment (and which must therefore be set down largely as\nan affectation) as in America. Loud hallelujahs have been raised in\npraise of Moussorgsky because, discarding conventional law, he\nvitalized the music of the lyric poem and also the dramatic line, by\nmaking it the emotional flowering of the spoken word. When it became\nnecessary for the precious inner brotherhood of Frenchmen who hold\nburning incense sticks under each others' noses to acclaim \"Pelleas et\nMelisande\" as a new and beautiful thing in dramatic music, it was\nannounced that Moussorgsky was like Debussy in that he had demonstrated\nin his songs and his operas that vocal melody should and could be\nwritten in accordance with the rhythm and accents of the words. We had\nsupposed that we had learned that lesson not only from Gluck and\nWagner, but from every true musical dramatist that ever lived! And when\nthe Frenchmen (and their feeble echoers in England and America) began\nto cry out that the world make obeisance to Moussorgsky on that score,\nthere was no wonder that those whose eagerness to enjoy led them to\nabsorb too much information should ask how this marvellous psychical\nassonance between word and tone was to be conveyed to their unfortunate\nsense and feeling after the original Russian word had been\ntransmogrified into French or English. In New York the opera, which we\nknow to be saturated in some respects with Muscovitism, or Slavicism,\nand which we have every reason to believe is also so saturated in its\nmusico-verbal essence, was sung in Italian. With the change some of the\ncharacter that ought to make it dear to the Russian heart must have\nevaporated. It is even likely that vigorous English would have been a\nbetter vehicle than the \"soft, bastard Latin\" for the forceful\nutterances of the operatic people.\n\nIt is a pity that a suspicion of disingenuousness and affectation\nshould force itself upon one's thoughts in connection with the French\nenthusiasm over Moussorgsky; but it cannot be avoided. So far as\nMoussorgsky reflects anything in his art, it is realism or naturalism,\nand the latter element is not dominant in French music now, and is not\nlikely to be so long as the present tendency toward sublimated\nsubjectivism prevails. Debussy acclaimed Moussorgsky enthusiastically a\ndozen years ago, but for all that Moussorgsky and Debussy are antipodes\nin art--they represent extremes.\n\nIt is much more likely that outside of its purely literary aspect (a\nlarge aspect in every respect in. France) the Moussorgsky cult of the\nlast few years was a mere outgrowth of the political affiliation\nbetween France and Russia; as such it may be looked upon in the same\nlight as the sudden appreciation of Berlioz which was a product of the\nChauvinism which followed the Franco-Prussian War. It is easy even for\nyoung people of the day in which I write to remember when a Wagner\nopera at the Academie Nationale raised a riot, and when the dances at\nthe Moulin Rouge and such places could not begin until the band had\nplayed the Russian national hymn.\n\nWere it not for considerations of this sort it would be surprising to\ncontemplate the fact that Moussorgsky has been more written and talked\nabout in France than he was in his native Russia, and that even his\nfriend Rimsky-Korsakoff, to whose revision of the score \"Boris\nGodounoff\" owes its continued existence, has been subjected to much\nrude criticism because of his work, though we can only think of it as\ntaken up in a spirit of affection and admiration. He and the Russians,\nwith scarcely an exception, say that his labors were in the line of\npurification and rectification; but the modern extremists will have it\nthat by remedying its crudities of harmonization and instrumentation he\nweakened it--that what he thought its artistic blemishes were its\nvirtues. Of that we are in no position to speak, nor ought any one be\nrash enough to make the proclamation until the original score is\npublished, and then only a Russian or a musician familiar with the\nRussian tongue and its genius. The production of the opera outside of\nRussia and in a foreign language ought to furnish an occasion to demand\na stay of the artistic cant which is all too common just now in every\ncountry.\n\nWe are told that \"Boris Godounoff\" is the first real Russian opera that\nAmerica has ever heard. In a sense that may be true. The present\ngeneration has heard little operatic music by Russian composers.\nRubinstein's \"Nero\" was not Russian music in any respect. \"Pique Dame,\"\nby Tschaikowsky, also performed at the Metropolitan Opera House, had\nlittle in it that could be recognized as characteristically Russian.\n\"Eugene Onegin\" we know only from concert performances, and its\nMuscovitism was a negligible quantity. The excerpts from other Russian\noperas have been few and they demonstrated nothing, though in an\nintermezzo from Tschaikowsky's \"Mazeppa,\" descriptive of the battle of\nPoltava, which has been heard here, we met with the strong choral tune\nwhich gives great animation to the most stirring scene in \"Boris\"--the\nacclamation of the Czar by the populace in the first act. Of this\nsomething more presently. There were American representations, however,\nof a Russian opera which in its day was more popular than \"Boris\" has\never been; but that was so long ago that all memories of it have died,\nand even the records are difficult to reach. Some fifty years ago a\nRussian company came to these shores and performed Verstoffsky's\n\"Askold's Tomb,\" an opera which was republished as late as 1897 and\nwhich within the first twenty-five years of its existence had 400\nperformances in Moscow and 200 in St. Petersburg. Some venturesome\ncritics have hailed Verstoffsky as even more distinctively a\npredecessor of Moussorgsky than Glinka; but the clamor of those who are\npreaching loudly that art must not exist for art's sake, and that the\nugly is justified by the beauty of ugliness, has silenced the voices of\nthese critical historians.\n\nThis may thus far have seemed a long and discursive disquisition on the\nsignificance of the new opera; but the questions to which the\nproduction of \"Boris Godounoff\" give rise are many and grave,\nespecially in the present state of our operatic activities. They have a\nstrong bearing on the problem of nationalism in opera, of which those\nin charge of our operatic affairs appear to take a careless view. Aside\nfrom all aesthetic questions, \"Boris Godounoff\" bears heavily on that\nproblem. It is a work crude and fragmentary in structure, but it is\ntremendously puissant in its preachment of nationalism; and it is\nstrong there not so much because of its story and the splendid\nbarbarism of its external integument as because of its nationalism,\nwhich is proclaimed in the use of Russian folk-song. All previous\nexperiments in this line become insignificant in comparison with it,\nand it is questionable if any other body of folk-song offers such an\nopportunity to the operatic composer as does the Russian. The hero of\nthe opera is in dramatic stature (or at least in emotional content) a\nMacbeth or a Richard III; his utterances are frequently poignant and\nheart searching in the extreme; his dramatic portrayal by M. Chaliapine\nin Europe and Mr. Didur in America is so gripping as to call up\nmemories of some of the great English tragedians of the past. But we\ncannot speak of the psychology of the musical setting of his words\nbecause we have been warned that it roots deeply in the accents and\ninflections of a language with which we are unfamiliar and which was\nnot used in the performance. But the music of the choral masses, the\nsongs sung in the intimacy of the Czar Boris's household, the chants of\nthe monks, needed not to be strange to any student of folk-song, nor\ncould their puissance be lost upon the musically unlettered. In the old\nKolyada Song \"Slava\" [Footnote: Lovers of chamber music know this\nmelody from its use in the allegretto in Beethoven's E minor Quartet\ndedicated to Count Rasoumowski, where it appears thus:--] with which\nBoris is greeted by the populace, as well as in the wild shoutings of\nthe Polish vagrom men and women in the scene before the last, it is\nimpossible not to hear an out-pouring of that spirit of which Tolstoi\nwrote: \"In it is yearning without end, without hope; also power\ninvincible, the fateful stamp of destiny, iron preordination, one of\nthe fundamental principles of our nationality with which it is possible\nto explain much that in Russian life seems incomprehensible.\"\n\nNo other people have such a treasure of folk-song to draw on as that\nthus characterized, and it is not likely that any other people will\ndevelop a national school of opera on the lines which lie open to the\nRussian composer, and which the Russian composer has been encouraged to\nexploit by his government for the last twenty years or more.\n\nIt is possible that some critics, actuated by political rather than\nartistic considerations, will find reasons\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt]\n\nfor the present condition of Moussorgsky's score in the attitude of the\nRussian government. It is said that court intrigues had much to do with\nthe many changes which the score had to undergo before it became\nentirely acceptable to the powers that be in the Czar's empire.\nPossibly. But every change which has come under the notice of this\nreviewer has been to its betterment and made for its practical\npresentation. It is said that the popular scenes were curtailed because\nthey represented the voice of the democracy. But there is still so much\nchoral work in the opera that the judgment of the operatic audiences of\nto-day is likely to pronounce against it measurably on that account.\nFor, splendid as the choral element in the work is, a chorus is not\nlooked upon with admiration as a dramatic element by the ordinary opera\nlover. There was a lack of the feminine element in the opera, and to\nremedy this Moussorgsky had to introduce the Polish bride of the False\nDmitri and give the pair a love scene, and incidentally a polonaise;\nbut the love scene is uninteresting until its concluding measures, and\nthese are too Meyerbeerian to call for comment beyond the fact that\nMeyerbeer, the much contemned, would have done better. As for the\npolonaise, Tschaikowsky has written a more brilliant one for his\n\"Eugene Onegin.\"\n\nThe various scores of the opera which have been printed show that\nMoussorgsky, with all his genius, was at sea even when it came to\napplying the principles of the Young Russian School, of which he is set\ndown as a strong prop, to dramatic composition. With all his additions,\nemendations, and rearrangements, his opera still falls much short of\nbeing a dramatic unit. It is a more loosely connected series of scenes,\nfrom the drama of Boris Godounoff and the false Dmitri, than Boito's\n\"Mefistofele\" is of Goethe's \"Faust.\" Had he had his own way the opera\nwould have ended with the scene in which Dmitri proceeds to Moscow amid\nthe huzzas of a horde of Polish vagabonds, and we should have had\nneither a Boris nor a Dmitri opera, despite the splendid opportunities\noffered by both characters. It was made a Boris opera by bringing it to\nan end with the death of Boris and leaving everything except the scenes\nin which the Czar declines the imperial crown, then accepts it, and\nfinally dies of a tortured conscience, to serve simply as intermezzi,\nin which for the moment the tide of tragedy is turned aside. This and\nthe glimpse into the paternal heart of the Czar is the only and\nbeautiful purpose of the domestic scene, in which the lighter and more\ncheerful element of Russian folk-song is introduced.\n\nAt the first American performance of \"Boris Godounoff\" the cast was as\nfollows:--\n\n  Boris.....................................Adamo Didur\n  Theodore....................................Anna Case\n  Xenia..................................Lenora Sparkes\n  The Nurse...............................Maria Duchene\n  Marina...................................Louise Homer\n  Schouisky.................................Angelo Bada\n  Tchelkaloff......................Vincenzo Reschiglian\n  Pimenn...................................Leon Rothier\n  Dmitri......................Paul Althouse (his debut)\n  Varlaam....................... ....Andrea de Segurola\n  Missail............................... Pietro Audisio\n  The Innkeeper........................ Jeanne Maubourg\n  The Simpleton............................Albert Reiss\n  A Police Officer.........................Giulio Rossi\n  A Court Officer..................... Leopoldo Mariani\n  Lovitzky......).Two Jesuits..........( V. Reschiglian\n  Tcerniakowsky,)                      ( Louis Kreidler\n\n  Conductor: Arturo Toscanini\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\n\"MADAME SANS-GENE\" AND OTHER OPERAS BY GIORDANO\n\n\nThe opera-goers of New York enjoyed a novel experience when Giordano's\n\"Madame Sans-Gene\" had its first performance on any stage in their\npresence at the Metropolitan Opera House on January 25, 1915. It was\nthe first time that a royal and imperial personage who may be said to\nlive freshly and vividly in the minds of the people of this generation\nas well as in their imaginations appeared before them to sing his\nthoughts and feelings in operatic fashion. At first blush it seemed as\nif a singing Bonaparte was better calculated to stir their risibilities\nthan their interest or sympathies; and this may, indeed, have been the\ncase; but at any rate they had an opportunity to make the acquaintance\nof Napoleon before he rose to imperial estate. But, in all seriousness,\nit is easier to imagine the figure which William II of Germany would\ncut on the operatic stage than the \"grand, gloomy, and peculiar\"\nCorsican. The royal people with whom the operatic public is familiar as\na rule are sufficiently surrounded by the mists of antiquity and\nobscurity that the contemplation of them arouse little thought of the\nincongruity which their appearance as operatic heroes ought to create.\nHenry the Fowler in \"Lohengrin,\" Mark in \"Tristan und Isolde,\" the\nunnumbered Pharaoh in \"Aida,\" Herod in \"Salome\" and \"Herodiade,\" and\nthe few other kings, if there are any more with whom the present\ngeneration of opera-goers have a personal acquaintance, so to speak,\nare more or less merely poetical creations whom we seldom if ever think\nof in connection with veritable history. Even Boris Godounoff is to us\nmore a picture out of a book, like the Macbeth whom he so strongly\nresembles from a theatrical point of view, than the monarch who had a\nlarge part in the making of the Russian people. The Roman censorship\nprevented us long ago from making the acquaintance of the Gustavus of\nSweden whom Ankerstrom stabbed to death at a masked ball, by\ntransmogrifying him into the absurdly impossible figure of a Governor\nof Boston; and the Claudius of Ambroise Thomas's opera is as much a\nghost as Hamlet's father, while Debussy's blind King is as much an\nabstraction as is Melisande herself.\n\nOperatic dukes we know in plenty, though most of them have come out of\nthe pages of romance and are more or less acceptable according to the\nvocal ability of their representatives. When Caruso sings \"La donna e\nmobile\" we care little for the profligacy of Verdi's Duke of Mantua and\ndo not inquire whether or not such an individual ever lived.\nMoussorgsky's Czar Boris ought to interest us more, however. The great\nbell-tower in the Kremlin which he built, and the great bell--a\nshattered monument of one of his futile ambitions--have been seen by\nthousands of travellers who never took the trouble to learn that the\ntyrant who had the bell cast laid a serfdom upon the Russian people\nwhich endured down to our day. Boris, by the way, picturesque and\ndramatic figure that he is as presented to us in history, never got\nupon the operatic stage until Moussorgsky took him in hand. Two hundred\nyears ago a great German musician, Mattheson, as much scholar as\ncomposer if not more, set him to music, but the opera was never\nperformed. Peter the Great, who came a century after Boris, lived a\nlife more calculated to invite the attention of opera writers, but even\nhe escaped the clutches of dramatic composers except Lortzing, who took\nadvantage of the romantic episode of Peter's service as ship carpenter\nin Holland to make him the hero of one of the most sparkling of German\ncomic operas. Lortzing had a successor in the Irishman T. S. Cooke, but\nhis opera found its way into the limbo of forgotten things more than a\ngeneration ago, while Lortzing's still lives on the stage of Germany.\nPeter deserved to be celebrated in music, for it was in his reign that\npolyphonic music, albeit of the Italian order, was introduced into the\nRussian church and modern instrumental music effected an entrance into\nhis empire. But I doubt if Peter was sincerely musical; in his youth he\nheard only music of the rudest kind. He was partial to the bagpipes\nand, like Nero, played upon that instrument.\n\nTo come back to Bonaparte and music. \"Madame Sans-Gene\" is an operatic\nversion of the drama which Sardou developed out of a little one-act\nplay dealing with a partly fictitious, partly historical story in which\nNapoleon, his marshal Lefebvre, and a laundress were the principal\nfigures. Whether or not the great Corsican could be justified as a\ncharacter in a lyric drama was a mooted question when Giordano\nconceived the idea of making an opera out of the play. It is said that\nVerdi remarked something to the effect that the question depended upon\nwhat he would be called upon to sing, and how he would be expected to\nsing it. The problem was really not a very large or difficult one, for\nall great people are turned into marionettes when transformed into\noperatic heroes.\n\nIn the palmy days of bel canto no one would have raised the question at\nall, for then the greatest characters in history moved about the stage\nin stately robes and sang conventional arias in the conventional\nmanner. The change from old-fashioned opera to regenerated lyric drama\nmight have simplified the problem for Giordano, even if his librettist\nhad not already done so by reducing Napoleon to his lowest terms from a\ndramatic as well as historical point of view. The heroes of\neighteenth-century opera were generally feeble-minded lovers and\nnothing more; Giordano's Napoleon is only a jealous husband who helps\nout in the denouement of a play which is concerned chiefly with other\npeople.\n\nIn turning Sardou's dramatic personages into operatic puppets a great\ndeal of bloodletting was necessary and a great deal of the\ncharacteristic charm of the comedy was lost, especially in the cases of\nMadame Sans-Gene herself and Napoleon's sister; but enough was left to\nmake a practicable opera. There were the pictures of all the plebeians\nwho became great folk later concerned in the historical incidents which\nlifted them up. There were also the contrasted pictures which resulted\nfrom the great transformation, and it was also the ingratiating\nincident of the devotion of Lefebvre to the stout-hearted, honest\nlittle woman of the people who had to try to be a duchess. All this was\nfair operatic material, though music has a strange capacity for\nrefining stage characters as well as for making them colorless.\nGiordano could not do himself justice as a composer without refining\nthe expression of Caterina Huebscher, and so his Duchess of Dantzic\ntalks a musical language at least which Sardou's washerwoman could not\ntalk and remain within the dramatic verities. Therefore we have \"Madame\nSans-Gene\" with a difference, but not one that gave any more offence\nthan operatic treatment of other fine plays have accustomed us to.\n\nTo dispose of the artistic merits of the opera as briefly as possible,\nit may be said that in more ways than one Giordano has in this work\nharked back to \"Andrea Chenier,\" the first of his operas which had a\nhearing in America. The parallel extends to some of the political\nelements of the book as well as its musical investiture with its echoes\nof the popular airs of the period of the French Revolution. The style\nof writing is also there, though applied, possibly, with more mature\nand refined skill. I cannot say with as much ingenuousness and\nfreshness of invention, however. Its spirit in the first act, and\nlargely in the second, is that of the opera bouffe, but there are many\npages of \"Madame Sans-Gene\" which I would gladly exchange for any one\nof the melodies of Lecocq, let us say in \"La Fille de Mme. Angot.\" Like\nall good French music which uses and imitates them, it is full of crisp\nrhythms largely developed from the old dances which, originally\ninnocent, were degraded to base uses by the sans-culottes; and so there\nis an abundance of life and energy in the score though little of the\ndistinction, elegance, and grace that have always been characteristic\nof French music, whether high-born or low. The best melody in the\nmodern Italian vein flows in the second act when the genuine affection\nand fidelity of Caterina find expression and where a light touch is\ncombined with considerable warmth of feeling and a delightful\ndaintiness of orchestral color. Much of this is out of harmony with the\nfundamental character of Sardou's woman, but music cannot deny its\nnature. Only a Moussorgsky could make a drunken monk talk truthfully in\nmusic.\n\nIf Giordano's opera failed to make a profound impression on the New\nYork public, it was not because that public had not had opportunity to\nlearn the quality of his music. His \"Andrea Chenier\" had been produced\nat the Academy of Music as long before as November 13, 1896. With it\nthe redoubtable Colonel Mapleson went down to his destruction in\nAmerica. It was one of the many strange incidents in the career of Mr.\nOscar Hammerstein as I have related them in my book entitled \"Chapters\nof Opera\" [Footnote: New York, Henry Holt & Co.] that it should have\nbeen brought back by him twelve years later for a single performance at\nthe Manhattan Opera House. In the season of 1916-1917 it was\nincorporated in the repertory of the Boston-National Opera Company and\ncarried to the principal cities of the country. On December 16, 1906,\nMr. Heinrich Conried thought that the peculiar charms of Madame\nCavalieri, combined with the popularity of Signor Caruso, might give\nhabitation to Giordano's setting of an opera book made out of Sardou's\n\"Fedora\"; but it endured for only four performances in the season of\n1906-1907 and three in the next, in which Conried's career came to an\nend. In reviving \"Andrea Chenier\" Mr. Hammerstein may have had visions\nof future triumphs for its composer, for a few weeks before (on\nFebruary 5, 1908) he had brought forward the same composer's \"Siberia,\"\nwhich gave some promise of life, though it died with the season that\nsaw its birth.\n\nThe critical mind seems disposed to look with kindness upon new works\nin proportion as they fall back in the corridors of memory; and so I am\ninclined to think that of the four operas by Giordano which I have\nheard \"Andrea Chenier\" gives greatest promise of a long life. The\nattempt to put music to \"Fedora\" seemed to me utterly futile. Only\nthose moments were musical in the accepted sense of the word when the\naction of the drama ceased, as in the case of the intermezzo, or when\nthe old principles of operatic construction waked into life again as in\nthe confession of the hero-lover. Here, moreover, there comes into the\nscore an element of novelty, for the confession is extorted from Lorris\nwhile a virtuoso is entertaining a drawing-roomful of people with a set\npianoforte solo. As for the rest of the opera, it seems sadly deficient\nin melody beautiful either in itself or as an expression of passion.\n\"Andrea Chenier\" has more to commend it. To start with, there is a good\nplay back of it, though the verities of history were not permitted to\nhamper the imagination of Signor Illica, the author of the book. The\nhero of the opera is the patriotic poet who fell under the guillotine\nin 1794 at the age of thirty-two. The place which Saint-Beuve gave him\nin French letters is that of the greatest writer of classic verse after\nRacine and Boileau. The operatic story is all fiction, more so, indeed,\nthan that of \"Madame Sans-Gene.\" As a matter of fact, the veritable\nChenier was thrown into prison on the accusation of having sheltered a\npolitical criminal, and was beheaded together with twenty-three others\non a charge of having engaged in a conspiracy while in prison. In the\nopera he does not die for political reasons, though they are alleged as\na pretext, but because he has crossed the love-path of a leader of the\nrevolution.\n\nWhen Giordano composed \"Siberia,\" he followed the example of Mascagni\nand Puccini (if he did not set the example for them) by seeking local\ncolor and melodic material in the folk-songs of the country in which\nhis scene was laid. Puccini went to Japan for musical ideas and devices\nto trick out his \"Madama Butterfly\" as Mascagni had done in \"Iris.\"\nGiordano, illustrating a story of political oppression in \"Siberia,\"\ncalled in the aid of Russian melodies. His exiles sing the\nheavy-hearted measures of the bargemen of the Volga, \"Ay ouchnem,\" the\nforceful charm of which few Russian composers have been able to resist.\nHe introduced also strains of Easter music from the Greek church, the\npopular song known among the Germans as \"Schone Minka\" and the \"Glory\"\nsong (Slava) which Moussorgsky had forged into a choral thunderbolt in\nhis \"Boris Godounoff.\" It is a stranger coincidence that the \"Slava\"\nmelody should have cropped up in the operas of Giordano and Moussorgsky\nthan that the same revolutionary airs should pepper the pages of\n\"Madame Sans-Gene\" and \"Andrea Chenier.\" These operas are allied in\nsubject and period and the same style of composition is followed in\nboth.\n\nChenier goes to his death in the opera to the tune of the\n\"Marseillaise\" and the men march past the windows of Caterina\nHuebscher's laundry singing the refrain of Roget de Lisle's hymn. But\nGiordano does not make extensive use of the tune in \"Madame Sans-Gene.\"\nIt appears literally at the place mentioned and surges up with fine\neffect in a speech in which the Duchess of Dantzic overwhelms the proud\nsisters of Napoleon; but that is practically all. The case is different\nwith two other revolutionary airs. The first crash of the orchestra\nlaunches us into \"La Carmagnole,\" whose melody provides the thematic\norchestral substratum for nearly the entire first scene. It is an\ninnocent enough tune, differing little from hundreds of French\nvaudeville melodies of its period, but Giordano injects vitriol into\nits veins by his harmonies and orchestration. With all its innocence\nthis was the tune which came from the raucous throats of politically\ncrazed men and women while noble heads tumbled into the bloody sawdust,\nwhile the spoils of the churches were carried into the National\nConvention in 1793, and to which \"several members, quitting their\ncurule chairs, took the hands of girls flaunting in priests' vestures\"\nand danced a wild rout, as did other mad wretches when a dancer was\nworshipped as the Goddess of Reason in the Cathedral of Notre Dame.\n\nCaterina's account of the rude familiarity with which she is treated by\nthe soldiery (I must assume a knowledge of Sardou's play which the\nopera follows) is set to a melody of a Russian folk-song cast in the\ntreatment of which Russian influences may also be felt; but with the\nfirst shouts of the mob attacking the Tuileries in the distance the\ncharacteristic rhythmical motif of the \"Ca ira\" is heard muttering in\nthe basses. Again a harmless tune which in its time was perverted to a\nhorrible use; a lively little contradance which graced many a cotillion\nin its early days, but which was roared and howled by the mob as it\ncarried the beauteous head of the Lamballe through the streets of Paris\non a pike and thrust it almost into the face of Marie Antoinette.\n\nOf such material and a pretty little dance (\"La Fricassee\") is the\nmusic of the first act, punctuated by cannon shots, made. It is all\nrhythmically stirring, it flows spiritedly, energetically along with\nthe current of the play, never retarding it for a moment, but,\nunhappily, never sweetening it with a grain of pretty sentiment or\nadorning it with a really graceful contour. There is some graciousness\nin the court scene, some archness and humor in the scene in which the\nDuchess of Dantzic submits to the adornment of her person, some\ndramatically strong declamation in the speeches of Napoleon, some\nsimulation of passion in the love passages of Lefebvre and of Neipperg;\nbut as a rule the melodic flood never reaches high tide.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nTWO OPERAS BY WOLF-FERRARI\n\n\nWhen the operas of Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari came to America (his beautiful\nsetting of the \"Vita Nuova\" was already quite widely known at the\ntime), it was thought singular and somewhat significant that though the\noperas had all been composed to Italian texts they should have their\nfirst Italian performances in this country. This was the case with \"Le\nDonne Curiose,\" heard at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, on\nJanuary 3, 1912; of \"Il Segreto di Susanna,\" which the\nChicago-Philadelphia Opera Company brought to New York after giving it\na hearing in its home cities, in February, 1912; of \"I Giojelli della\nMadonna\" first produced in Berlin in December, 1911, and in Chicago a\nfew weeks later. A fourth opera, \"L'Amore Medico,\" had its first\nrepresentation at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, on March 25,\n1914.\n\nThe circumstance to which I have alluded as worthy of comment was due,\nI fancy, more to the business methods of modern publishers than to a\nwant of appreciation of the operas in Italy, though\n\n[figure: a musical score excerpt.  A page of the Score of the German\n\"Donne Curiose\"]\n\nSignor Wolf-Ferrari sought to meet the taste of his countrymen\n(assuming that the son of a German father and a Venetian mother is to\nbe set down as an Italian) when he betrayed the true bent of his genius\nand sought to join the ranks of the Italian veritists in his \"Giojelli\ndella Madonna.\" However, that is not the question I am desirous to\ndiscuss just now when the first impressions of \"Le Donne Curiose\" come\nflocking back to my memory. The book is a paraphrase of Goldoni's\ncomedy of the same name, made (and very deftly made) for the composer\nby Count Luigi Sugana. It turns on the curiosity of a group of women\nconcerning the doings of their husbands and sweethearts at a club from\nwhich they are excluded. The action is merely a series of incidents in\nwhich the women (the wives by rifling the pockets of their husbands,\nthe maidens by wheedling, cajoling, and playing upon the feelings of\ntheir sweethearts) obtain the keys of the club-room, and effect an\nentrance only to find that instead of gambling, harboring mistresses,\nseeking the philosopher's stone, or digging for treasure, as is\nvariously suspected, the men are enjoying an innocent supper. In their\neagerness to see all that is going on, the women betray their presence.\nThen there follow scoldings, contrition, forgiveness, a graceful\nminuet, and the merriment runs out in a wild furlana.\n\nBook and score of the opera hark back a century or more in their\nmethods of expression. The incidents of the old comedy are as loosely\nstrung together as those of \"Le Nozze di Figaro,\" and the parallel is\ncarried further by the similarity between the instrumental apparatus of\nMozart and Wolf-Ferrari and the dependence of both on melody, rather\nthan orchestral or harmonic device, as the life-blood of the music upon\nwhich the comedy floats. It is Mozart's orchestra that the modern\ncomposer uses (\"the only proper orchestra for comedy,\" as Berlioz\nsaid), eschewing even those \"epical instruments,\" the trombones. It\nwould not do to push the parallel too far, though a keen listener might\nfeel tempted also to see a point of semblance in the Teutonism which\ntinctures the Italian music of both men; a Teutonism which adds an\ningredient more to the taste of other peoples than that of the people\nwhose language is employed. But while the Italianism of Mozart was\nwholly the product of the art-spirit of his time, the Teutonism of\nWolf-Ferrari is a heritage from his German father and its Italianism\npartakes somewhat of the nature of a reversion to old ideals from which\neven his mother's countrymen have departed. There is an almost amusing\nillustration of this in the paraphrase of Goldoni's comedy which the\ncomposer took as a libretto. The Leporello of Da Ponte and Mozart has\nhis prototype in the Arlecchino of the classic Italian comedy, but he\nhas had to submit to so great a metamorphosis as to make him scarcely\nrecognizable. But in the modern \"Donne Curiose\" we have not only the\nold figure down to his conventional dress and antics, but also his\ncompanions Pantaloon and Columbine. All this, however, may be better\nenjoyed by those who observe them in the representation than those who\nwill only read about them, no matter how deftly the analysis may be\nmade.\n\nIt is Mozart's media and Mozart's style which Wolf-Ferrari adopts, but\nthere are traces also of the idioms of others who have been universal\nmusicians rather than specifically Italian. Like Nicolai's \"O susse\nAnna!\" (Shakespeare's \"Oh, Sweet Anne Page\"), Wolf-Ferrari's Florindo\nbreathes out his languishing \"Ah, Rosaura!\" And in the lively chatter\nof the women there is frequently more than a suggestion of the lively\ngossip of Verdi's merry wives in his incomparable \"Falstaff.\"\nWolf-Ferrari is neither a Mozart nor a Verdi, not even a Nicolai, as a\nmelodist, but he is worthy of being bracketed with them, because as\nfrankly as they he has spoken the musical language which to him seemed\na proper investiture of his comedy, and like them has made that\nlanguage characteristic of the comedy's personages and illustrative of\nits incidents. He has been brave enough not to fear being called a\nreactionary, knowing that there is always progress in the successful\npursuit of beauty.\n\nThe advocates of opera sung in the language native to the hearers may\nfind an eloquent argument in \"Le Donne Curiose,\" much of whose humor\nlies in the text and is lost to those who cannot understand it despite\nthe obviousness of its farcical action. On the other hand, a feeling of\ngratitude must have been felt by many others that they were not\ncompelled to hear the awkward commonplaces of the English translation\nof the libretto. The German version, in which the opera had its first\nhearing in Munich six years before, is in a vastly different\ncase--neither uncouth nor halting, even though it lacks the\ncharacteristic fluency essential to Italian opera buffa; yet no more\nthan did the speech of most of the singers at the Metropolitan\nperformance. The ripple and rattle of the Italian parlando seem to be\npossible only to Italian tongues.\n\nThe Mozartian type of music is illustrated not only in the character of\nmany of its melodies, but also in the use of motivi in what may be\ncalled the dramatic portions--the fleet flood upon which the dialogue\ndances with a light buoyancy that is delightfully refreshing. These\nmotivi are not used in the Wagnerian manner, but as every change of\nsituation or emotion is characterized in Mozart's marvellous ensembles\nby the introduction of a new musical idea, so they are in his modern\ndisciple's. All of them are finely characteristic, none more so than\nthe comical cackle so often heard from the oboe in the scenes wherein\nthe women gossip about the imaginary doings of the men--an intentional\necho, it would almost seem, of the theme out of which Rameau made his\ndainty harpsichord piece known as \"La Poule.\" The motto of the club,\n\"Bandie xe le done,\" is frequently proclaimed with more or less\npomposity; Florindo's \"Ah, Rosaura,\" with its dramatic descent, lends\nsentimental feeling to the love music, and the sprightly rhythm which\naccompanies the pranks of Colombina keeps much of the music bubbling\nwith merriment. In the beginning of the third act, not only the\ninstrumental introduction, but much of the delightful music which\nfollows, is permeated with atmosphere and local color derived from a\nfamiliar Venetian barcarolle (\"La biondina in gondoleta\"), but the\nmusical loveliness reaches its climax in the sentimental scenes--a\nquartet, a solo by Rosaura, and a duet, in which there breathes the\nsympathetic spirit of Smetana as well as Mozart.\n\n[Footnote: The cast at the first performance at the Metropolitan Opera\nHouse was as follows:--\n\n  Ottavio.................................Adamo Dfdur\n  Beatrice........................... Jeanne Maubourg\n  Rosaura............................Geraldine Farrar\n  Florindo......................... Hermann Jadlowker\n  Pantalone....................... Antonio Pini-Corso\n  Lelio............................... Antonio Scotti\n  Leandro................................ Angelo Bada\n  Colombina...............................Bella Alten\n  Eleonora................................Rita Fornia\n  Arlechino....................... Andrea de Segurola\n  Asdrubale........................... Pietro Audisio\n  Almoro.............................. Lambert Murphy\n  Alviso.......................... Charles Hargreaves\n  Lunardo....................... Vincenzo Reschiglian\n  Momolo............................... Paolo Ananian\n  Menego................................ Giulio Rossi\n  Un Servitore....................... Stefen Buckreus\n  Conductor--Arturo Toscanini.]\n\nIn \"Le Donne Curiose,\" the gondoliers sing their barcarolle and compel\neven the cynic of the drama to break out into an enthusiastic\nexclamation: \"Oh, beautiful Venice!\" The world has heard more of the\nnatural beauties of Naples than of the artificial ones of Venice, but\nwhen Naples is made the scene of a drama of any kind it seems that its\nattractions for librettist and composer lie in the vulgarity and vice,\nlibertinism and lust, the wickedness and wantonness, of a portion of\nits people rather than in the loveliness of character which such a\nplace might or ought to inspire.\n\nPerhaps it was not altogether surprising that when Wolf-Ferrari turned\nfrom Venice and \"Le Donne Curiose\" to \"I Giojelli della Madonna\" with\nNaples as a theatre for his drama he should not only change the style\nof his music, but also revert to the kind of tale which his\npredecessors in the field seem to have thought appropriate to the place\nwhich we have been told all of us should see once and die out of sheer\necstasy over its beauty. But why are only the slums of Naples deemed\nappropriate for dramatic treatment?\n\nHow many stories of Neapolitan life have been told in operas since\nAuber wrote his \"La Muette di Portici\" I do not know; doubtless many\nwhose existence ended with the stagione for which they were composed.\nBut it is a singular fact bearing on the present discussion that when\nthe young \"veritists\" of Italy broke loose after the success of\nMascagni's \"Cavalleria rusticana\" there came almost a universal desire\nto rush to the Neapolitan shambles for subjects. New York has been\nspared all of these operas which I have described in an earlier chapter\nof this book, except the delectable \"A Basso Porto\" which Mr. Savage's\ncompany gave to us in English sixteen years ago; but never since.\n\nWhether or not Wolf-Ferrari got the subject of \"I Giojelli della\nMadonna\" from the sources drawn on by his predecessors, I do not know.\nI believe that, like Leoncavallo, he has said that the story of his\nopera has a basis of fact. Be this as it may, it is certain that the\ncomposer called on two versifiers to help him out in making the book of\nthe opera and that the story in its essence is not far removed from\nthat of the French opera \"Aphrodite,\" by Baron Erlanger. In that opera\nthere is a rape of the adornments of a statue of Venus; in\nWolf-Ferrari's work of the jewels enriching an effigy of the Virgin\nMary. The story is not as filthy as the other plots rehearsed\nelsewhere, but in it there is the same striving after sharp (\"piquant,\"\nsome will say) contrasts, the blending of things sacred and profane,\nthe mixture of ecclesiastical music and dances, and--what is most\nsignificant--the generous use of the style of melody which came in with\nPonchielli and his pupils. In \"I Giojelli della Madonna\" a young woman\ndiscards the love of an honest-hearted man to throw herself, out of\nsheer wantonness, into the arms of a blackguard dandy. To win her heart\nthrough her love of personal adornment the man of faithful mind (the\nsuggestion having come from his rival) does the desperate deed of\nstealing for her the jewels of the Madonna. It is to be assumed that\nshe rewards him for the sacrilegious act, but without turning away from\nthe blackguard, to whom she grants a stolen interview during the time\nwhen her true love is committing the crime. But even the vulgar and\nwicked companions of the dandy, who is a leader among the Camorristi,\nturn from her with horror when they discover the stolen jewels around\nher neck, and she gives herself to death in the sea. Then the poor\nlover, placing the jewels on the altar, invokes forgiveness, and,\nseeing it in a ray of light which illumines them, thrusts a dagger into\nhis heart and dies at the feet of the effigy of the goddess whom he had\nprofaned.\n\nThe story would not take long in the telling were it not tricked out\nwith a multitude of incidents designed to illustrate the popular life\nof Naples during a festival. Such things are old, familiar, and\nunnecessary elements, in many cases not even understood by the\naudience. But with them Signor Wolf-Ferrari manages to introduce most\nsuccessfully the atmosphere which he preserves even throughout his\ntragical moments--the atmosphere of Neapolitan life and feeling. The\nscore is saturated with Neapolitan folk-song. I say Neapolitan rather\nthan Italian, because the mixed population of Naples has introduced the\nelements which it would be rash to define as always Italian, or even\nLatin. While doing this the composer surrendered himself unreservedly\nand frankly to other influences. That is one of the things which make\nhim admirable in the estimation of latter-day critics. In \"Le Donne\nCuriose\" he is most lovingly frank in his companionship with Mozart. In\n\"II Segreto\" there is a combination of all the styles that prevailed\nfrom Mozart to Donizetti. In \"I Giojelli\" no attempt seems to have been\nmade by him to avoid comparison with the composer who has made the most\nsuccessful attempt at giving musical expression to a drama which fifty\nyears ago the most farsighted of critics would have set down as too\nrapid of movement to admit of adequate musical expression? Mascagni and\nhis \"Cavalleria rusticana,\" of course. But I am tempted to say that the\nmost marvellous faculty of Wolf-Ferrari is to do all these things\nwithout sacrifice of his individuality. He has gone further. In \"La\nVita Nuova\" there is again an entirely different man. Nothing in his\noperas seems half so daring as everything in this cantata. How he could\nproduce a feeling of mediaevalism in the setting of Dante's sonnets and\nyet make use of the most modern means of harmonization and\norchestration is still a mystery to this reviewer. Yet, having done it\nlong ago, he takes up the modern style of Italian melody and blends it\nwith the old church song, so that while you are made to think one\nmoment of Mascagni, you are set back a couple of centuries by the\ncadences and harmonies of the hymns which find their way into the\nmerrymakings of the festa. But everything appeals to the ear? nothing\noffends it, and for that, whatever our philosophical notions, we ought\nto be grateful to the melodiousness, the euphony, and the rich\norchestration of the new opera. [The performances of \"I Giojelli della\nMadonna\" by the Chicago-Philadelphia Opera Company, as it was called in\nChicago, the Philadelphia-Chicago Opera Company, as it was called in\nPhiladelphia, were conducted by Cleofonte Campanini and the principal\nparts were in the hands of Carolina White, Louisa Barat, Amadeo Bassi,\nand Mario Sammarco.]","title":"A Second Book of Operas","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":56378}