In the second Act Marcus, an old Christian Patriarch, meets Acté in the gardens of the Palatine at night and wins her over to his faith. She promises to join the Christians, and to this purpose calls her slave Parthos, whom she persuades to guide her to the cave of Marcus.—After having given him a ring, Nero's love-token, to deliver to Caesar, she bribes Parthos, to swear, not to betray her secret, by making over to him all her worldly goods.—
Unfortunately this interview has been witnessed by Agrippina from her hiding place in the bushes, and she decides to make use of her discovery against her son.
When day breaks a grand festival takes place in the gardens. Agrippina hails her son, and seeing him alone she sweetly asks where his faithful companion Acté is.—Nero at once sends Tigellinus in search of her.
A beautiful ballet is now danced, and afterwards Caesar himself takes his lute and sings a hymn in praise of Venus, the Goddess of love.—He has hardly ended, when Tigellinus rushes in and exclaims that Acté is not to be found.
Nero storms and Agrippina, pretending to know nothing, suggests that Parthos should be questioned. The poor slave is dragged forward; he denies any knowledge of Acté's whereabouts, but her ring is found upon him. This he tremblingly gives to Nero, declaring that Acté gave it to him to return to Caesar.—Tigellinus says, that the slave evidentlyknows more than this, and Nero orders him to be tortured. While the wretched Parthos is being led away Agrippina declares defiantly, that she alone knows where Acté is, and offers to tell Nero on the condition, that he will restore to her the imperial power, that she covets. Nero, enraged beyond measure orders Tigellinus to keep his mother as a prisoner, until she reveals Acté's hiding-place.
He then turns to the frightened spectators and with the words "My will is law, I am Caesar and will remain so for ever" the Act closes.
In the third Act Nero accompanied by Tigellinus leads his Pretorian guards to the hiding-place of the Christians.—This he has found out from the confessions of Parthos.—Nero hears Acté's voice singing a Miserere, but commands his guards to conceal themselves.—
The Christians, among them Acté and Marcus, believing themselves safe in the stormy night, at last emerge from the mountain caves, and at a sign from Nero are surrounded by the Pretorian guards.
Nero seizes Acté and tries to win back her love, but Acté remains firm, and she so infuriates her royal lover, that he threatens her with his dagger.—Old Marcus stepping between, only rouses the Emperor's anger to a higher pitch, while Tigellinus denounces the old man as Nero's rival and the cause of Acté's flight. Both are led away as captives with their Christian brethren to Rome.
The last Act takes place on the terrace of the Palatine.
Lovely dances beguile the weary hours for Nero, lying on his couch, a prey to love and hatred. Tigellinus tries to rouse his pride by relating to him the last interview between Marcus and Acté overheard by him.
He describes the old man's exhortations and glowing promises of a better life, and Acté's calm courage and deep faith, and Nero cries: "She must be mine, or she dies!"—At this moment the Christians are heard, greeting Caesar as they pass the palace on their way to death.—Acté is not with them, she is now brought before Nero with Marcus, for whom she implores Nero's pardon.—But it is in vain; Nero falls upon the originator of his woes, and kills him with his own hands.—
In this moment flames are seen leaping up in the streets of Rome.
Tigellinus hurries in, exclaiming that the people accuse their Emperor of having set the city on fire, and already their furious cry is heard: "Death to the red Caesar!"
Beside himself with rage and fear Nero seizes Acté, and throwing her down from the terrace amongst the people, he accuses the Christians of having set fire to the town. Acté perishes a victim to the fury of the people, while Nero cries out: "Burn O Rome, burn, Nero greets Thee!"
Tschaikowsky's opera, long known and so intensely popular throughout Russia, that many of its melodies have become household-properties, has taken a long time to penetrate into other countries. But wherever it has been represented, its success was great and its impression upon the public deep and lasting.
At the Dresden Opera House it was first given October 20th, 1908, though the composer wrote it fully 29 years ago. It was the most brilliant success of the season.
Tschaikowsky is the classic amongst the Russian composers; his concert music is well known and greatly esteemed in Germany.
Of the eleven operas, which he wrote, Eugene Onegin is the best.
The libretto lacks dramatic force, although it is taken from Puschkin's masterpiece, a poem, which in Russia is equalled to Goethe's Faust, but the music is strikingly original and full of exquisite music and harmony. The hearer's attention may be drawn especially to the fine duet between Olga and Tatiana, and to the latter's love letter, a supreme hymn of love in the first act.
In the second act there are some charming dances, a quaint old-fashioned waltz, an original Mazurka and in the third act a brilliant polonaiseand a delightful waltz, interwoven with the passionate love duet between Onegin and Tatiana.
The text is adapted for the stage by Tschaikowsky's brother Modeste.
The scene is laid in Russia. The first and second acts take place in the country-house of Madame Larina, the third act in the house of Prince Gremin at St. Petersburg.
In the first scene Madame Larina is sitting in the garden with the nurse Philipyewna, talking of old times and listening to the pretty songs of her two daughters. Olga, a light-hearted merry girl, is engaged to Lenski, a somewhat jealous youth. Tatiana, the younger sister, is thoughtful and sensitive and possesses all the sentimentality of sweet eighteen.
While they are talking the peasants of the village enter, bringing presents of fruit and corn to their landlady. After having performed their pretty dances, they are treated to wine and food by the nurse.—
When they have left Lenski, Olga's betrothed is announced. He introduces his friend Eugene Onegin to the family, and Tatiana promptly falls in love with the interesting stranger, who seems also attracted by the charming girl. Lenski has only eyes for his bride Olga, who soon grows somewhat tired of her passionate and exacting lover.—
In the evening, when Tatiana has retired to her bedroom, she writes a long letter to Onegin, telling him, that she has seen his face in her dreams, and believes him to be her good genius and herguardian angel. She declares in the most touching terms, that she loves him, but being ashamed of herself and hardly knowing, what she is doing in her newly awakened love-fever, she writes again and again, destroying each letter. Towards morning she begins to write once more and at last seals the letter just when her nurse enters to waken her. To this faithful servant she entrusts the precious document, imploring her to deliver it to Onegin.
In the third scene Tatiana is waiting for him. He cruelly undeceives her about his own feelings, telling her, that although touched by her confidence he cannot return her affection. He warns her to restrain her feelings in future, leaving her in an agony of shame.
The second act opens with a dance given in honour of Tatiana's birthday. Onegin feels bored and out of sheer ennui he begins to flirt with Olga. The thoughtless girl willingly yields to the young man's attentions and promises to dance the cotillion with him, in order to punish her lover for his jealousy.—This tactless behaviour enrages Lenski to such a degree, that he challenges Onegin to a duel. The whole assembly is terrified, Tatiana is most indignant and mortified, while Olga vainly tries to pacify her lover. Onegin recognizes at last, that he has gone too far, having not only given pain to a sweet and innocent maiden, but having also deeply wounded his dearest friend. In vain he tries to remonstrate with Lenski. The duel is arranged, and Lenski, feeling that he may not seethe following morning, takes a last farewell of his weeping bride.
In the next scene Lenski, finding himself the first on the spot and being left discreetly alone by his second, takes a touching farewell from life, after which Onegin comes up and the duel follows. Lenski is shot and Onegin leaves the place, horror-struck at his own deed.
The third act takes place some years later at a ball in St. Petersburg, in the house of Prince Gremin. Here we find Onegin, who is a friend and relative of the Prince. After long and aimless wanderings about the world he has come back to Russia utterly weary of life. The memory of his friend Lenski, whose premature death he caused, haunts him. In this melancholy state of mind he sees Tatiana again. The Prince enters the ballroom, leading a lady, whom Onegin recognizes as Tatiana. Then the Prince introduces her as his wife. She has grown far lovelier, then when he saw her last on the eve of Lenski's death. Onegin's passionate heart suddenly awakes to life again.—Tatiana bows coldly, concealing her emotion. Onegin explains to the Prince, that he has just returned from his travels.—He tries to talk with Tatiana; she however turns to her husband, pleading fatigue, and leaves the ball-room with him.
Onegin, torn by jealousy and love, decides, to recover her affection at any cost.
In the final scene he implores Tatiana, to be his own. The young wife resists, reminding himof the past, when he spurned the simple country maiden's blind love. At last she grows weak and confesses, that her love for him is not dead. His wooing growing more passionate, Tatiana declares, that she means to remain true to her husband, and refuses to elope with him, but feeling that she cannot resist him much longer, she flees, while Onegin rushes away, cursing himself and his whole life.
The first production of Strauss' Elektra took place in Dresden January 25th, 1909. It met with immense applause from one part, with trenchant criticism from the Philistines.
Certainly Strauss is neither Wagnerian nor academical, and certain it is, that his new work is interesting enough, to necessitate its admission in the Standard Operaglass.
The instrumentation is marvellous; orchestral impossibilities are unknown to Strauss. Although he depicts with predilection the weird and ghastly, following closely the libretto, often sacrificing beauty of expression to realistic truth, yet he also finds motives of deep feeling. These are for instance the melodious songs of Chrysothemis, the sisters' first duet and the recognition of Orestes by Elektra.
The legend of Orestes has occupied the poets of all times. Its greatest interpreter was Sophokles, who first chose Elektra for the heroine of his drama.But while classic grandeur prevails in the old poet's drama, while he makes Elektra the tool of destiny decreed by the gods, the Viennese poet goes back to the original myth, depriving his heroine of every human feeling. She lets herself be guided only by her thirst for vengeance, and by her own savage and unprincipled instincts, and appears in striking contrast to her sister Chrisothemis, whose gentle nature is the one redeeming feature in the drama.
The scene is laid in Mykene.
In the opening scene five maids are talking about Elektra, who enters haggard and in rags, shunning them and disappearing again like a hunted animal. Day by day she mourns for her father Agamemnon, who has been murdered by her mother's lover Aegisthos.
The maids find fault with Elektra's strange behaviour and haughtiness. They believe her to be dangerous and suggest, that her mother should lock her up safely. One maid reproves them however. She respects in Elektra the dead King's cherished daughter, who, though in rags and brought so low by her unnatural mother, that she is compelled to eat with the servants, yet bears herself more queenly than Clytemnestra herself. The others beat their companion for her allegiance to Elektra, who appears again, moaning for Agamemnon. His poor murdered body seems to arise fresh before her every day. Her one aim in life is vengeance on his murderers, and her only hope is her brother Orestes, who has disappeared.
She is joined by her sister Chrysothemis, who implores her to abandon her vindictive thoughts, the cause of their common captivity. She further reveals to her, that their mother means to imprison her, but Elektra laughs at her terror.—Chrysothemis longs for freedom, the love of a husband and children, and is utterly alien to her sister's dark thoughts. Hearing her mother's step she entreats Elektra to go away, Clytemnestra having had evil dreams about her son's coming home and killing her. Elektra, regardless of her prayers meets her mother with a cruel stare. The latter is in her darkest mood, which grows worse at her hated daughter's appearance. But Elektra, accosting her as a goddess for once quiets her suspicions. Clytemnestra dismisses her servants, who tries to warn her against her daughter. When they are alone, the Queen complains bitterly of the frightful dreams that haunt her, and wants to know, what she can do to banish them.
Elektra answers enigmatically, that a woman must be sacrificed, and that a man, but not Aegisthos the coward, must do it.
Clytemnestra, vainly guessing at his name, is reminded of her son Orestes, whom the mother has made to disappear, while he was a child. Her troubled looks convince Elektra that Orestes is living, and casting off her disguised mood, she sternly tells her mother, that she herself is to be the sacrifice.—In a long wild monologue she reproaches her for all her treachery, ending bydepicting the awful fate that awaits her, and rejoicing over it.
Clytemnestra's terror is appeased by the appearance of her attendants, one of whom whispers to her the welcome news of Orestes' death.
Wildly triumphant she leaves her daughter, who hears the bad news from Chrysothemis. Elektra will not believe it until she hears it from another servant, who is sent into the fields, to inform Aegisthos about it. Then she implores her sister's help in killing her mother and her lover, while they are asleep.—She has hidden the axe, with which her father was slain, yet being physically weaker than her younger sister she requires assistance. But although she promises her all the good things on earth and is ready to serve her like a slave, Chrysothemis turns from her shuddering and finally escapes. Elektra wildly curses her and resolves to carry out her design alone.
For this purpose she unearths the axe, but is disturbed by the arrival of a stranger, who takes her for one of the maids. He replies to her angry questions, that he has come to announce Orestes' death, which he has witnessed. Flashing with anger Elektra reproaches him for not having died in his stead. Her bearing convinces him, that she is superior to what she seems. Then she tells him, that she is Elektra, to which he replies in a whisper: "Orestes lives."—At this moment an old family servants enters, bringing three others, who, falling at the stranger's feet, hail him as their master.Then Elektra recognizes her brother and greets him with passionate joy, though she is ashamed of her own miserable appearance. Orestes at once agrees to help her in her vengeance and enters the house with his old servant, locking the door behind him. Elektra, standing erect on the threshold, hears Clytemnestra's scream and exclaims: "Hit her once more!" Those screams bring on Clytemnestra's servants together with Chrysothemis, all trying to open the closed door. But when they see Aegisthos returning they vanish.
The king calls for lights. Elektra taking up a torch, bows low to him, and motions him to go on. When he recognizes her, he asks where the men are, who brought the news of Orestes' death.—Elektra, silently advancing with the torch, opens the door and lets him pass into the house. Then she stands like one transfixed, listening to the frightful cries inside the house.—Chrysothemis appearing in a transport of joy shouts to her, that Orestes has come, and has avenged them by slaying the guilty pair.—All his enemies are dead thanks to those servants, who had remained faithful to him. Orestes is brought out on their shoulders, and while Chrysothemis joins her brother, Elektra sings a weird hymn of exultation. Slowly descending from the steps of the threshold she begins to dance triumphantly. The crowd looks on spellbound; her dance grows wilder and more triumphant until she sinks to the ground lifeless.
The popularity of this work, the composer's first real success, is due not only to the sparkling and easy flow of melody, but also in large measure to the skill with which the librettists have adapted Rauppach's old-fashioned comedy.
We are transported to the age of chokers and kneebreeches, and the easy-going and good-humoured spirit of the times is well caught, and combined with the more delicate touches of feeling.
Blech is no mere imitator, but has a distinct individuality.
The chorus of the "Schützen", the dainty and touching little song of the widow Gertrude, and the first love duet are effective and characteristic, while the garrulous Lampe's songs are full of merriment.
The scene is laid in a small provincial town in the year 1830. Frau Willmers, a worthy matron, asks permission of her neighbour, a sprightly young widow, to deposit in her house an heirloom, in the shape of a handsome old cupboard, her reason being that the Burgomaster who bears her a grudge owing to an ancient dispute with her husband, threatens her with distraint for non-payment of taxes. Gertrude readily consents to have the cupboard placed in her room. Meanwhile Frau Willmers' son, Bertel, the Recorder, appears with Elsa, thedaughter of the Burgomaster. Bertel has asked the Burgomaster for Elsa's hand, and been refused. Elsa declares that she will marry Bertel and no one but Bertel. The latter begs Gertrude, who has long possessed the Burgomaster's affections, to soften the father's heart. Gertrude promises to do her best, with which consolation the couple together with Frau Willmers take their departure. In a humorous monologue Gertrude decides to accept the Burgomaster. She is interrupted in her soliloquy by Lampe, the Beadle, who is a regular old Paul Pry, and boasts to the widow of his smartness and sagacity. According to himself he can ferret out anything, or any one, from a defrauder of the revenue to a thief, an anarchist or a murderer. Then he goes on to say that he intended to serve notice of distraint on Frau Willmers, but had found her door locked. Suddenly he catches sight of the cupboard which seems familiar to him, whereupon he hurriedly leaves to convince himself that the valuable piece of furniture has been removed from Frau Willmers'. Meanwhile the Burgomaster arrives to ask for Gertrude's hand. He first tells her of Bertel's suit, and is rather taken aback upon the widow advising him to accept Bertel as a son-in-law. Gertrude listens somewhat impatiently to his proposal, and just as he is about to kiss her, Lampe appears at the door with Frau Willmers. Gertrude hastily conceals the Burgomaster in the cupboard. Lampe having compelled the unfortunate Frau Willmers to admit the ownership of the cupboard,promptly affixes the official seal, thus unconsciously seizing the Burgomaster as well as the cupboard. The key is not to be found, and Lampe looking through a hole sees something moving. He suspects a gallant to be inside and leaves the house to fetch the Burgomaster. No sooner has he left than Bertel and Elsa reappear, and are told by Gertrude of what has happened. They resolve to turn the Burgomaster's involuntary imprisonment to their advantage. While Gertrude and Frau Willmers go in search of witnesses, the pair of lovers enact a regular comedy in front of the cupboard. Bertel protests to his sweetheart that his loyalty to, and regard for, her father prevent him from being a party to any deception. He declares that he will rather die than marry the daughter against her father's wishes, whereupon Elsa takes tragic leave of her lover. The Burgomaster, deeply affected, reveals his presence and promises everything if Bertel will only release him. Bertel demands Elsa's hand in return, and the latter hastily draws up a marriage contract in virtue of which she is to be allowed to marry in a fortnight, and is to receive into the bargain from her father 500 dollars in gold, a house and garden, with the customary livestock, to wit, cows, goats, ducks, hens, etc. The document is passed into the cupboard by Bertel and signed by the prisoner. He is then set at liberty, and gives the couple his blessing. But to punish them for their sins, the Burgomaster now locks them up in the cupboard,seals it lightly [Transcriber's note: tightly?], and hides himself in the alcove. Hereupon Gertrude appears, accompanied by a merry throng, whom she has brought from the fair to witness the release of her lover. An inspiriting chorus is sung, the door of the cupboard flies open, but instead of the Burgomaster, out steps the betrothed couple. At the same moment the Burgomaster appears with stern mien. In reply to his question as to how the couple had got into the cupboard, Gertrude artfully declares that she had shut them up in order to unite them in spite of the father's harshness. For a moment all are disappointed at the unexpected turn things are taking. But good humour gains the upper hand, and then increases on the appearance of Lampe who is slightly intoxicated and imagines that Bertel has killed his master, as he has been unable to find him. He wants to lock Gertrude up in the cupboard for having broken the official seal, but eventually is forced into the cupboard himself, and carried off amidst the shouts and jeers of all present. While Bertel and Elsa disappear into the alcove, the Burgomaster makes for Gertrude and as a punishment for the trick she has played him, makes her his wife and seals the compact in the usual manner.