JEAN PHILIPPE RAMEAU

[Fleuron]JEAN PHILIPPE RAMEAU

[Fleuron]

JEAN PHILIPPE RAMEAU

Just as Lully was the glory of the seventeenth century, so French musical genius is represented in the eighteenth by Rameau, the most learned theorist and illustrious composer of his time.

Jean Philippe Rameau was born at Dijon on the 25th of September, 1683. His father and mother were amateur musicians, and they carefully taught their son the elements of the art of which he was destined to become such a celebrated master. The little Rameau made very rapid progress, and his numerous biographers are agreed that at the age of seven there was no musical score which he could not execute at sight on the harpsichord.

In spite of his extraordinary talent for music, Rameau’s parents did not wish him to become an artist. They desired that he should enter the magistracy, and placed him as a student in the care of the Jesuits. He did not make much progress, however, and did not get beyond the fourth class in Latin; for his head was full of music and he could not apply himself to study, insomuch that he became a deplorable example for his school-fellows. His copy-books were annotated with fragments of music which passed through his mind and which he took a great pleasure in putting upon paper. He was at last sent away from the Jesuit college as an intractable pupil; he had but a very slight knowledge of Latin, French, or history, and the same might be said of other subjects.

On returning to his family he gave himself up completely to the study of the harpsichord and the organ, and also learned to play upon the violin. As regards harmony, the youthful Rameau failed to get beyond the first principles of that art-science, as he could not find in Dijon any musician sufficiently well informed on the rules and practice of counterpoint to perfect his knowledge of harmony. Who knows whether it was not precisely this unfortunate blank in his studies which caused him later on to undertake the theoretical inquiries into the formation of chords that are the subject of his admirable treatises on harmony?

Before he had thoroughly learned the laws of harmony, Rameau, as yet a beardless youth, yielded to the law laid down by the little winged god whose name is Cupid. He fell madly in love with a widow who was his neighbor. Everybody knows that nothing exercises a more unfortunate or more beneficial influence over the mind of a young lover than the advice given him by the woman he loves. Happily the widow gave good advice to her adorer. She went so far one day as to reproach him with his ignorance of the French language. “You spell like a scullion!” she told him. Rameau did not die on the spot in consequence of this outrage, for he was a strong-minded youth; but his face became scarlet, and he promised to study—a promise he kept.

Rameau’s father, however, who desired to put an end to the intrigue carried on by his son—who was as precocious in passionate gallantry as he was talented on the harpsichord—broke off the liaison by sending him to travel in Italy. Rameau did not tear himself away from his fair neighbor without great emotion, his heart beatingprestissimo appassionato; but he was bound to obey the paternal behest.

The future author of “Castor and Pollux” was not yet eighteen years of age when he arrived in Milan. The works of the Italian composers then in vogue did not at all modify his taste, which was entirely the outcome of his own peculiar character. He heard the music of Scarlatti, Lotti, Duni, Caldara, Leo, and it caused him surprise rather than satisfaction. He remained but a short time in the capital of Lombardy, and did not continue his Italian excursion further than that point. He had but one desire, and that was to return to France. Chance having brought him into contact with a theatrical manager, who had come to Milan to get together an orchestra and an operatic troupe for a tour in the south of France, Rameau accepted an engagement as violinist. It was several years later when he returned to Dijon. Whether or not he sought the widow for whom he had felt such an affection history does not say. We are rather inclined to think that he did not see her again, as he remained at Dijon but a very short time. Henceforth, he patiently awaited the moment when he should be able to go to Paris, to sit at the feet of eminent masters who would perfect him in the art of composition.

Finally he left for the French capital, and arrived there in the course of the year 1717, being then about thirty-four years of age. It was very late to commence the study of an art of which he as yet only imperfectly understood the technique. Especially was it late to dream of attaining celebrity in theatrical music, access to which was always very difficult for unknown composers.

Rameau at last believed that he had found a protector and a professor who would be disposed to complete his musical education, in the person of the organist Marchand, who was held in great esteem in Paris. But Marchand at once detected the superior genius—although it was then in a latent state—of the Dijon musician, and under the influence of fear and jealousy he sent him away. He acted indeed in a most culpable manner towards Rameau and showed unjust partiality to others, as we shall see.

The position of organist at the Church of St. Paul becoming vacant, it was submitted to public competition. Rameau, being obliged to work to keep the pot boiling, presented himself as a competitor against one Daquin, who was an indifferent organist, and still more indifferent composer. Marchand was appointed judge of the competition. According to the testimony of all who were present at this interesting trial, Rameau stood forth immensely superior to Daquin. Nevertheless Marchand decided in favor of the latter, and consequently the position was given to him. After this check, Rameau was obliged to accept a place as organist at Lille. He left Paris regretfully; but his departure was a source of great satisfaction to Marchand, who feared his presence there.

Rameau did not remain long at Lille. He had a brother at Clermont, in Auvergne, who was a musician of some talent, and organist of the cathedral of that city. Wishing to retire, he offered Jean Philippe the position which he was leaving, and the place being a remunerative one, Rameau accepted. He was, however, to his deep regret, obliged to enter into an engagement for a certain number of years, for towards Paris his eyes were ever turned.

Situated in the midst of the mountains, the town of Clermont was at that time very little visited by strangers, and Rameau concentrated himself in his own personality. He wrote motets and pieces for the harpsichord. There, too, he reflected upon the natural laws governing the formation of chords, the theory of which had not then been expounded. After deep and continuous study—like Newton when he discovered the law of gravitation—Rameau at last discovered the secret of harmony. To him belongs the glory of being the first to formulate these laws, in his first work, of which we shall speak presently.

Four years had passed away, yet Rameau was bound to remain at Clermont for several years more, in accordance with the terms of his agreement; but he still saw Paris in his dreams, Paris, the only city where he could produce his compositions and his book on theory. He was, however, held in great esteem at Clermont, and in spite of his repeated attempts to cancel the agreement he was unable to do so. He then devised a plan by which he should be sent away from his church for reasons contrary to those which were advanced by the friends and admirers who desired him to remain there. They thought that he was an inspired organist and that his harmonies were of an elevated and powerful character. Rameau suddenly began to play on his noble instrument like an ignorant musician, destitute of ideas, bringing forth such discordant and frightful sounds that the clergy were scandalized and the faithful stopped their ears. Remonstrances were made to him. He answered that he could do no better; that it was in this wise that the noble art of the organist had been suddenly revealed to him, and that he should always play in this manner. He was accordingly dismissed and received his discharge with infinite joy. At the last service which he attended, when his successor sat by his side, he ceased his practical joking and played upon the organ in such a manner as to compel the admiration of all who heard it. He was determined that they should regret his departure, and he succeeded marvellously.

Thus Rameau returned to Paris, where, in the course of a short time, he published his treatise on harmony. But the subject was so novel and the explanations given by the author so abstruse that musicians failed to understand it. This, however, did not prevent them from speaking of it malevolently, with the naive and base assurance born of ignorance and vanity. Profoundly saddened but not discouraged by this result, he turned to composition for the renown which was not accorded to him as a theorist.

Rameau wrote with rare facility cantatas with choruses, sonatas, and other pieces for the harpsichord, which caused him to be regarded with great interest by the public. Pupils came to him and he obtained the position of organist at the church of Sainte-Croix-de-la-Bretonnerie. He would have been perfectly happy in this position, had he not yearned for a grander destiny, of which mention has already been made—success as a composer of grand opera.

To test his strength he made his debut in a small theatre, as the author of the scores for several pieces written by his fellow-Dijonais, the poet Piron, of happy memory, with songs and dance-tunes, which did not pass unnoticed. Then, resuming his labors on musical theory, he published his second book on the subject. This book, like the first, did not escape the malevolent criticism of ignorant persons; but this tended to spread abroad the name of the author, which came to be talked of in spite of the efforts made to keep it secret. Rameau’s instrumental music began to be sought after, and his pieces for the harpsichord were played everywhere. This result was not what he had hoped to attain: conscious of his superiority as a dramatic composer, his goal, as we know, was the Académie de Musique. He applied to the echoes of the neighborhood, that is to say, to all the lyric poets who had a reputation. These turned a deaf ear to his request, being fearful of collaborating at the debut (always an uncertain matter) of a composer in so difficult, so complex an art as lyric tragedy.

JEAN PHILIPPE RAMEAU.From a lithograph at the Paris Opera Library, made after a drawing by E. Nesle.

JEAN PHILIPPE RAMEAU.From a lithograph at the Paris Opera Library, made after a drawing by E. Nesle.

JEAN PHILIPPE RAMEAU.From a lithograph at the Paris Opera Library, made after a drawing by E. Nesle.

At last, however, Rameau found the golden key which, so the proverb says, opens every door, even the door of the Opera, in the person of the great financier, M. de la Popelinière, whose wife was one of his pupils and took lessons on the harpsichord. M. de la Popelinière arranged a meeting at his house between the most illustrious Voltaire and Rameau, the humble aspirant to musical glory. Voltaire promised to write an opera for the protégé of the great Farmer-General, and this piece appears in the complete works of Voltaire under the title of “Samson.” The literary masterpiece of the great writer pleased Rameau greatly, and he set to work upon the accompanying music with great enthusiasm. When the score was finished the musician rendered it at de la Popelinière’s house, in presence of Voltaire and a chosen few. Rameau emerged from the ordeal triumphant; but, alas! there’s many a slip ’twixt cup and lip. The director of the Académie de Musique would have nothing to do with the piece, which he considered unsuitable for the opera, because founded on a biblical subject. It is interesting to remember what Voltaire has written on this question.

“Rameau,” says he, in speaking of “Samson,” “Rameau, the greatest musician in France, set this opera to music about the year 1732. It was about to be produced, when the same cabal which at a later date succeeded in causing the representations of ‘Mahomet’ (one of Voltaire’s tragedies) to be suspended, prevented the production of ‘Samson’ at the Opéra.”

I do not know whether the cabal spoken of by the author of the “Dictionnaire Philosophique” was responsible in this matter. I should be inclined to think that the director of the Opéra simply took counsel with himself. Whatever the fact, Voltaire adds:

“And at the very time when permission was given for this piece (“Samson”) to be played at the Theatre of the Comédie Italienne, and when ‘Samson’ worked miracles conjointly with Arlequin, permission was not granted for the same subject to be represented in a noble and worthy manner at the Theatre of the Académie de Musique. Our musician has since made use of nearly all the airs in ‘Samson’ in other lyric compositions, which envy was unable to suppress.”

It is quite true that Rameau utilized, but long afterwards, a part of the music in “Samson” for his opera “Zoroastre.” This work was not his début at the opera. The composer appeared before the Académie de Musique with “Hippolyte et Aricie,” by the Abbé Pellegrin, a worldly abbé if there ever was one, and a great playwright, concerning whom these verses were written:

Le matin catholique et le soir idolâtre,Il dîne de l’autel et soupe du théâtre.

Le matin catholique et le soir idolâtre,Il dîne de l’autel et soupe du théâtre.

Le matin catholique et le soir idolâtre,Il dîne de l’autel et soupe du théâtre.

Le matin catholique et le soir idolâtre,

Il dîne de l’autel et soupe du théâtre.

M. de la Popelinière advanced 500 livres to the Abbé to secure him against the possible failure of the piece, and Rameau set to work again. This opera was given on the first of October, 1733. The composer attained renown in his fiftieth year: he was old in years but young in fame, as we have seen.

RAMEAU.From a copperplate engraved by J. W. Bellinger, Berlin, 1802.

RAMEAU.From a copperplate engraved by J. W. Bellinger, Berlin, 1802.

RAMEAU.From a copperplate engraved by J. W. Bellinger, Berlin, 1802.

Before examining the dramatic works of Rameau and forming an opinion as to their influence upon French art, we will add a few words concerning the composer’s personal appearance. He was tall in stature and extraordinarily thin. His face was furrowed by deep wrinkles; he had an aquiline nose, a broad and open forehead and prominent cheek-bones. The mouth was large, the look frank and bold and indicative of energy, perseverance and will power. One might have supposed him a person of delicate health, although he was never seriously ill, owing to the very sober regime which he had adopted. Given much to reflection, he was not talkative and never spoke of himself. He married a young lady named Marie Louise Mangot, who was a good musician and had a very fine voice, and she made her illustrious husband very happy in his home circle by her amiable character and her kindness of heart. He had by her three children, one son and two daughters. Rameau died at the age of about eighty-one, in the same month as that which saw his birth—the 12th of September, 1764—leaving behind him a considerable quantity of dramatic music, although he had only begun to write for the theatre, as we know, at an age when many men have finished their career.

STATUE OF RAMEAU IN PARIS OPERA HOUSEReproduced from a photograph made for this work by special permission. One of four life-size statues placed in the vestibule of the Opera House, at the foot of the grand marble staircase.

STATUE OF RAMEAU IN PARIS OPERA HOUSEReproduced from a photograph made for this work by special permission. One of four life-size statues placed in the vestibule of the Opera House, at the foot of the grand marble staircase.

STATUE OF RAMEAU IN PARIS OPERA HOUSEReproduced from a photograph made for this work by special permission. One of four life-size statues placed in the vestibule of the Opera House, at the foot of the grand marble staircase.

“Hippolyte et Aricie” met with but doubtful success, about which there was difference of opinion. Accustomed as the public was to the flowing music of Lully, that of Rameau was considered brusque and his harmonies rough and dissonant. They were indeed very bold for the time. What astonished the amateurs and put to rout the imitators of Lully, such as Colasse, Desmarets, Blamont, was the novelty of the modulation, the suddenness of the changed chords, the character and style of the instrumentation. With Rameau, the flutes, hautbois, bassoons, manifested themselves at intervals, without any interruption of the general theme of the symphony. Rameau sought to give and gave to each instrument its own particular force and value, which enhanced the interest without detracting in any degree from the unity of style of the piece.

At a later date, when he had attained the full measure of his experience, Rameau certainly produced better work than “Hippolyte et Aricie.” At the same time this first opera of the great French master is full of dramatic beauty and attractive conceptions. We may cite, as an example, the charming chorus of nymphs in the prologue, the graceful gavotte which was sung: “A l’Amour rendons les armes.” And again, the fine air sung by Aricie in the first act, the chorus, “Dieux vengeurs, lancez le tonnerre”; with a purely instrumental page to imitate the thunder, which certainly does not equal the storm of the pastoral symphony, but which at the same time is not wanting in effect, particularly the violin arpeggios. The second act, the scene of which is laid in the infernal regions, is characterized by a boldness of harmony and a striking novelty for the period. The two first movements of the first scene are simply pure Weber. The rest is of the same fantastic character.

There is no musician, however humble his attainments, who does not know and admire the trio of the Fates, “Quelle soudaine horreur.” The succession of chords on the words, “Où cours-tu, malheureux?” are striking in their expression. This would appear even at the present day as a happy and wonderfully effective discovery.

“Les Indes Galantes,” an heroic ballet, was the second work that Rameau gave to the Opéra. He was then fifty years of age. The public, who had become more accustomed to the musician’s peculiarly characteristic style, received this work in the most favorable manner. From that time forth, the master who had experienced such difficulty in obtaining access to the Opéra, was rewarded with one long series of triumphs. He reigned in the opinion of the musicians and the habitués of the Académie de Musique as an omnipotent sovereign of the art. “Les Fêtes d’Hébé,” “Dardanus,” “Zoroastre,” “Anacréon,” “Platée,” “Les Fêtes de Polymnie,” “Les Fêtes de l’Hymen et de l’Amour,” are works which bear the impress of Rameau’s genius. His talent appeared to the most advantage, however, in “Castor et Pollux,” his dramatic masterpiece, which indeed is a fine example of theatrical music.

We mentioned above the theoretical works of Rameau, and now propose to make further reference to them. Rameau’s theory, which threw a flood of light upon what before his time was darkness and empiricism, is entirely based upon the eternal law governing the creation of chords by the resonances of the monochord. Rameau found in these resonances thefundamental bassof the different chords composed of a succession of thirds. This discovery of the fundamental bass showed the true nature of the inversions of chords which before the theoretical exposition of the great Dijon master had been considered as so many peculiar kinds of chords.

Rameau had discovered the natural formation of chords, a thing wonderful in itself and sufficient to make his name immortal; but in thus establishing the principles of harmony he had not established all its laws. He left to his didactic successors the work of laying down the important rules of the attraction of notes for the determination of chords, as also the rules governing their movement in modulation. It is thus that we find in Rameau’s work certain hazardous harmonies which are more due to the non-observance of these laws than offences against good taste or fancies of the composer’s imagination. We see, indeed, in the music of this artistic genius successions of fifths, faulty relation of notes, brusque modulations offensive to the ear, which are nothing more than faults in writing. Thus he who has been truly called the “Father of Harmony,” made mistakes in harmony which, even at the present day, in spite of the great liberty taken by composers of the advanced school with their successions of modified chords, still remain faults in musical grammar.

Rameau wrote his last opera, “Les Paladins,” at the age of seventy-seven. In reading this score we find nothing to indicate any failing of the vigorous mind of this extraordinary musician, who, following Lully, was the pioneer in the great field of dramatic music that Gluck was destined to cover with incomparable power and genius.

Fac-simile musical manuscript written by Rameau.Reproduced from original in the Paris Opera Library.

Fac-simile musical manuscript written by Rameau.Reproduced from original in the Paris Opera Library.

Fac-simile musical manuscript written by Rameau.Reproduced from original in the Paris Opera Library.

This article would be very incomplete were we not to say a few words concerning the pieces for the harpsichord composed by Rameau, which form such an important item in the fine work by A. Mereaux, “Les Clavecinistes,” containing a selection of pieces by these musicians from 1637 to 1790, classed in their chronological order, and revised, annotated and accented with the variations and ornaments of the period and in full notation. What pianist of the present day has not delighted in playing, from amongst the numerous compositions by Rameau for the harpsichord, his “Musette,” “Tambourin,” “Poule,” “Rappel des Oiseaux,” “Fanfarinette,” “Egyptienne,” and “Entretiens des Muses,” etc. Few pianists, however, have succeeded in executing these delightful inspirations on the instrument for which they were written, and which gives them their full effect, with all the freshness of idea, color, and ingenious accompaniment. It is a feast for a musical epicure to hear music by Couperin, or Frescobaldi, or Scarlatti played by an educated musician and pianist of taste, in conjunction with music by Rameau executed upon a well-preserved or newly-manufactured harpsichord. For the celebrated piano manufactory of Pleyel, Wolff et Cie., of Paris, yielding to the desire expressed by a few artists and amateurs, has made for them a limited number of harpsichords which out-rival in a remarkable manner, both as to quality of sound and the number of pedals, the finest instrument of the celebrated Taskin.

In 1888, the Paris Society of Musical Composers gave an exclusively artistic soirée in the Salle Pleyel, the memory of which yet remains. By the side of magnificent grand pianos, the most noble instruments produced by this musical establishment, was a harpsichord, which gave promise of great things. It was not found wanting when put to the test; for, in the hands of M. Diémer and Mme. Roger-Miclos, two virtuosos whose reputation is well established, it rendered the music of the composers who wrote for the harpsichord in a wonderful manner, particularly the pieces by Rameau.

A statue has been erected to the memory of Rameau in his native town of Dijon, due to the initiative of a Dijon composer of considerable talent, M. Poisot, who opened a subscription in order to put on record the public admiration for this great and illustrious musician of Burgundy.

Oscar Comettant

TRIUMPH OF RAMEAU.From a rare engraving by Fessard.

TRIUMPH OF RAMEAU.From a rare engraving by Fessard.

TRIUMPH OF RAMEAU.From a rare engraving by Fessard.

ANDRÉ ERNEST MODESTE GRÉTRYReproduction of a portrait by Quenedey painted in 1808.Grétry at the age of sixty-seven.

ANDRÉ ERNEST MODESTE GRÉTRYReproduction of a portrait by Quenedey painted in 1808.Grétry at the age of sixty-seven.

ANDRÉ ERNEST MODESTE GRÉTRYReproduction of a portrait by Quenedey painted in 1808.Grétry at the age of sixty-seven.


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