Men of the first rank, who are artists in everything they do, do not choose their subjects in the way Puccini has. For Wagner the writing of aTristan und Isoldewas life—it was as necessary that he work on that particular drama as that he breathe. And to deal with the 'Parsifal' legend when he did was likewise inevitable. Call 'Parsifal' art or twaddle—it matters little which—you must admit that it reflects the master in his almost senile period, interested in just such an absurd conglomeration as Kundry, Amfortas, Klingsor and its other dramatic materials compose. The greatest composers of opera have written because they had to express certain things and because they found a drama which dealt with it. Puccini has been led by what the world approved.
Puccini has been fortunate, indeed. HisLa Bohèmeis artistically his best work. In it there is a finer sense of balance and proportion than in anything thathe has done. He has done what few Italians are able to do, namely, he has interpreted the French spirit. This little opera—whose libretto, effective as it is, is in no wise an adequate reduction of Murger's great novel—is replete with comic and tragic moments that amuse and thrill by turns. The fun-making of the jolly Bohemians, Rodolphe, Marcel, Schaunard and Colline, is capitally pictured in music that is as care-free as the souls of the inhabitants of theQuartier Latin. And the death of little Mimi makes a musical scene that has potency to-day,—yes, even though Puccini has since learned to handle his orchestral apparatus with a firmer grip and a mightier sweep.
La Fanciulla del West, which had its world-première in America in 1911, is Puccini's biggest, if not his best, production. We care not a farthing whether his music be typical of California in 1849—we do wish that the carpers who claim that it is not, would enlighten us by telling just what kind of musicistypical of it—nor does it matter whether one hear echoes of his earlier operas in it. It suffices that in it he has written with a sweep and a command of his forces such as he exhibits nowhere else and that he has written gorgeously in more than one scene in the work. We have heard that there is not as much melody in it as in his other operas. But, as a matter of fact, Puccini's melodies in 'The Girl' are quite as good as those in his other operas. What is more, they have a pungency which he has attained nowhere else.
But we fear that it is music of our time and that only. We cannot bring ourselves to believe that audiences of 1975 will find in Puccini anything that will interest them. Works that depend, to a large extent, on the appearance of a certain singer in the cast—and Puccini's operas do—will scarcely exert a hold on the public of a day when those singers shall have passed from this world. Antonio Scotti has made Scarpia inToscaso vital a histrionic figure, Mr. Caruso sings Cavaradossi so beautifully that only the mostblaséopera-goer fails to get real enjoyment from their personations. And so it is to a large degree with his other operas. Puccini bids fair to become another Meyerbeer when fifty years shall have rolled away. He has enjoyed the same shouts of approval from a public no more discerning than was that of Paris of the early nineteenth century; he has been called the most popular operatic composer of his day. Meyerbeer was, too. Yet to-day we can only find him tiresome and boring; we can but wonder how any public listened to his banalities, his deadly fustian, his woeful lack of inspiration, and express approval. Already the music of the future is dawning on our horizon. Those of us who have given it attention know that it is a very different thing from what music has been in the past. What we know of it now may only be a shadow of what is to come. Will it, when it does come and has been accepted, allow a place to the long-drawn phrases of Giacomo Puccini?
Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari, born (1876) of a German mother and an Italian father, presents a problem to us. He is a man whose gifts have not at all times been applied to that which was his ideal, but rather to the immediately necessary. If one looks at him in this light—and it is feasible to do so—one can readily understand some of his artistic indiscretions. The mob knows him as the composer ofI Gioielli della Madonna('Jewels of the Madonna,' 1908), his only essay in operatic realism of the objectionable type. The art-lover hails him as the fine spirit that conceived the little operasIl Segreto di Suzanna,Le Donne Curiose,L'Amore Medico, the oratorioLa Vita Nuova, some charming though not important songs and several beautiful pieces of chambermusic, among them two sonatas for violin and piano and a quintet for piano and strings.
Wolf-Ferrari is neither Italian nor German; he is a mixture and so it is possible to conceive his thinking music in two ways.[75]By no means is this desirable, but when it exists, what force can alter it? We feel that the 'Jewels of the Madonna'—which those for whom music is an entertainment rather than an art admire so much—is simply a 'bad dream' of its composer's. Before one knows his instrumental music one thinks it was the real Wolf-Ferrari and that thefinesseof his other operas was a pose. There are many things which caused the 'Jewels' to be written; persons who know the composer and who were in Munich when it was being written say that the chief one was the need of financial aid. Seeing the shekels pouring into the baskets of composers who did this kind of thing regularly, Wolf-Ferrari 'tried his hand,' thinking that it would be lucrative. That part of the adventure has not been denied him. But it has done him immeasurable harm in the opinions of many who were looking to him for greater things. Its chances are limited—it cannot be sung in Italy on account of its misrepresentation of Neapolitan life—and the Metropolitan Opera House has refused to place it in therépertoire.
What Wolf-Ferrari will do no one can say. His next production may be in his dainty and at all times charming manner. It may quite as readily be a lurid and vulgar thing in the coarse musical style of 'The Jewels.' One can only hope that the widely expressed regrets ofcognoscention the appearance of this unsavory and uninspired work will have their effect on the composer and that he will give us more in hisrococostyle, which if not original is at any rate delightful and unique in the music of to-day.
Times change and music develops. There is, in fact, no branch of art in which metamorphoses are so quickly accomplished. Not a decade ago Luigi Torchi wrote that Umberto Giordano (b. 1867) was an ultra-modern composer! This from a man whose knowledge and fairness must be viewed with respect. Giordano an ultra-modern! One hesitates to answer such a fatuous assertion. Were it not generally known that what is new in music to-day isrococoto-morrow the case might be a serious one. Umberto Giordano is inconsequential in the evaluating of Italian music-drama. His achievements are the operasRegina Diaz,Mala Vita,Andrea Chénier,Fedora,SiberiaandMme. Sans-Gêne. For the opera-goer of to-day the list has little meaning.Regina Diaz, an early work, occupies a place in that limbo of the past where Puccini'sLe Villihas long been slumbering.Mala Vitawas a failure,Andrea ChénierandFedoramild successes. 'Siberia' had meritorious features, notably the Russian folk-songs which were employedverbatim; had Signor Giordano been a musician who had the power to develop them symphonically and thus make them part and parcel of his score his opera might have taken a place in the repertory of the world's opera-houses.Fedora, based on that wretched example of Sardoodledom, was quickly consigned to oblivion and now his long-awaitedMadame Sans-Gêne—which he has been thinking about since the time he went to Giuseppe Verdi and asked him whether it would be possible to write an opera in which Napoleon had to sing—has failed to establish him an iota more firmly in the estimation of musicians and lovers of music-drama. Many years have been required for the composition ofSans-Gêne; Giordano, once looked to as one of the 'younger Italians,' is no longer to be placed in that category. He is nearly fifty and he writes slowly. From him little is to be expected. He remains one of those lesser composers,whose name was brought into prominence by hisAndrea Chénierat a time when the interest in Italy's then younger men had been aroused through the unequivocal success ofCavalleriaandI Pagliacci.
Giacomo Orefice and Luigi Mancinelli are two men whose activities as composers have resulted in several operas that have had hearings. Orefice has done the operasMariska,Consuelo,Il Gladiatore,Chopin,Cecilia,Mose, andIl Pane Altri. HisChopinseems to have aroused the most comment; in it he pictured incidents in the life of the great Polish piano composer and in doing so he has employed Chopin's music, setting some of the nocturnes as solos for the voice, etc. He is, however, more of a musical scholar than a composer. Mancinelli, who has divided his time between conducting and composing, has done a 'Hero and Leander,' which had a respectable success when first heard. His other operas areIsora di ProvenzaandPaolo e Francesca. He has also done two oratorios,IsaiaandSan Agnese. His musical speech is frankly that of a post-Wagnerian.
Fortunately for the Italian music-drama there are two young men living to-day who have achieved art-works which seem to be the creation of individual thought. Riccardo Zandonai and Italo Montemezzi must carry the banner of their land in the music-drama. The world has not taken them into that much cherished household-word condition, but one does note their attracting attention among musicians. And this is the first step.
Montemezzi is one of those composers who was absolutely unknown outside of his own country untilL'Amore dei tre rewas heard in New York in 1914. With little heralding the Metropolitan Opera House producedhis work; there were rumors of certain influences being responsible for its being done. Many shook their heads at its chances of being accepted by the public. The final rehearsals were not completed when it was recognized by a few gentlemen of the press that here was a new composer who, though he had nothing wholly original to say, was a man who could speak his lines with distinction. Thepremièrecame and the little opera was acclaimed. It was at once seen that Signor Montemezzi was a man who harked back to the poetic drama as a basis for his musical structure, that he had no patience with the veritists in opera. He had, as it were, a finer soul, a loftier spiritual outlook than the rank and file of his countrymen who had tried to win in the field of opera within the last fifteen years.
Italo Montemezzi was born in 1876. His works, all operatic, are:Giovanni Gallurese, produced in Turin at the Victor Emmanuel Theatre on January 28, 1905,Hellera, at Turin at the Regio Theatre on March 17, 1909, andL'Amore dei tre re, in Milan at La Scala in the winter of 1913. It is rather strange to note in this composer a total freedom from the long-drawn phrase made so popular by Mr. Puccini. Montemezzi seems to abhor it; and it is to his credit that he can work without it. His earlier operas were less refined, but to-day it is always possible to recognize his restraint in working up his climaxes and his mastery in the highly imaginative orchestral score which he sets down. Nothing that modern orchestration includes is unknown to him, but he is sparing in his use of the instruments: he avoids monotonous stopped brass effects—which modern composers dote on to the distress of their listeners—he speaks a poetic utterance like a man in whom there is that spark that bids him contribute to the art-work of mankind.
But with all his talent he does not possess genius. The man in Italy who has that is Riccardo Zandonai,whose place is at the head of the leaders in his country's music. Signor Zandonai is in truth young. He is but thirty-two to-day (1915), and he has already done an unquestionably important work. When you know the music of this man you will realize that Italy's place in the music of the future is to be a glorious one. For his followers will be path-breakers like himself. Already one has appeared on the horizon. Of him we shall speak later. To Dickens and his 'Cricket on the Hearth,' which the Latins callIl Grillo del Focolare, Zandonai first gave his attention. This opera was first given at the Politeama Chiarella in Turin on November 28, 1908, followed by hisConchitaat the Dal Verme in Milan on November 13, 1912. We pause here to speak of this opera, which though received with an ovation at its every premier performance, barring New York, does not seem to have held its place in therépertoire. The libretto, which is after Pierre Louys'sLa Femme et le Pantin, is not one that interests the public.Conchitawas given, as we said, in Milan, then in London at Covent Garden, then in San Francisco by a visiting company which came over to give a season of opera; Cleofonte Campanini produced it in Chicago and Philadelphia and then brought it to New York for one of the guest performances in February, 1913. No further performances in New York were planned. To pass judgment on it from that performance—which is what actually happened in the case of the newspaper reviewers—was idle. Only Tarquinia Tarquini, the young Italian mezzo-soprano, for whom the composer wrote the rôle, was adequate. The tenor who sang was already losing his best qualities, and the other parts were only moderately well done. The chorus was fair and the orchestra likewise. Mr. Campanini labored to put spirit into the performance, but it seemed that the score was a little too subtle for his rather obvious powers of comprehension.
One New York critic agreed with the present writer that in spite of the performanceConchitawas the most interesting novelty that had been brought out sincePelléas. Since then everything that this composer has done has been watched with the greatest interest.Conchitawas accused of lacking melody, of being 'patchy,' of being overscored in spots. None of these things are true when one knows the work. A week's study of the score reveals among the most gorgeous moments that modern Italy has given us, moments which cannot fail to impress any fair-minded person with their composer's genius. Zandonai is an ultra-modern and he writes without making any concessions to his forces.Conchitamay not be a work that fifty years hence will know, but it is far too good an achievement to be allowed to lie on the shelf in these days of semi-sterility in operatic composition.
To Zandonai's list of operas we must addMelenis, which first saw the light at the Dal Verme in Milan on November 13, 1912. It was not successful. Then did Zandonai set himself his greatest task, for he beganFrancesca da Rimini, using as his libretto a reduction of d'Annunzio's superb drama, the work of Tito Ricordi, the noted Italian publisher. It was done at the Scala in Milan in the spring of 1914 and was a triumph. The following summer brought it to Covent Garden, London, where its success was again instantaneous. The Boston Opera Company had planned to give it in the winter of 1913-1914, but the illness of Lina Cavalieri postponed it. Then Mr. Gatti-Casazza was rumored to have taken it for the Metropolitan Opera in New York for the season of 1914-1915, but it has not been forthcoming.
OfFrancescawe can only speak through an acquaintance with the published score. We have not sat in the audience and gotten that perspective which is, perhaps, necessary in estimating a new music-drama'sworth. But the impressions thus gained may be recorded here at any rate. A magnificent drama, containing everything that the musician who would accomplish the wedding of the two arts requires, Mr. Zandonai must have gotten much inspiration in working on it. And the results are plainly there. The full, Italian rich melodic flow, which inConchitawas not always present, the apt sense of illustrating the dramatic moment in tone, the masterly command of modern harmony and a vital pulsing surge are in this music. If Mr. Zandonai ever surpasses the love-scene of Paolo and Francesca he will go down in history as a giant. If he does not he will already at the age of thirty-two have made a distinguished place for himself. Personally we know nothing in modern French, German or Russian music-drama that compares with this, unless it be the great moments in Richard Strauss'sSaloméandElektra. As for the orchestral score ofFrancesca, we have heard Mr. Zandonai's orchestra, know how he employs his instruments and are certain that in the time betweenConchitaand this work he has, if anything, progressed. That wonderful sweep which he had at his command in the earlier opera must be present again in this newer one. Should it not be we still feel sure that the work will win on the merits of its distinguished thematic material.
Rumor has it that Zandonai is now engaged on setting Rostand'sLa princesse lointaine. Some day he may doCyrano, too, since his publishers acquired all the Rostand dramas two years ago for operatic use. And we may rightly expect important things from him, for he is a musician of the first rank, Italy's genius of to-day. That he is not only a composer for the stage will be explained in the next chapter when we shall treat of his noteworthy art-songs and his orchestral works.
The follower of Zandonai who has been mentionedthough not named, is the boy Vittore de Sabbata. We have learned that he has completed an opera which has made his publishers skeptical as to what he will do in the future. It is said to be so modern in its mode of expression, so difficult to produce, that it has not been definitely decided whether or not it will be undertaken. The score of his Suite for orchestra, written at eighteen, has made us marvel at his ingenuity and his pregnant musical ideas. What he will do is not to be gauged by any rule. He may prove to be a prodigy whose light will have been extinguished long before he is thirty. His health is reported to be very poor and so he may be taken from us before he achieves anything definite. At any rate his name deserves recording, for he may be one of those men who will figure prominently in bearing onward the legion of the Italian music-drama of the future.
Vittorio Gnecchi, born in 1876, has done two operas,CassandraandVirtù d'Amore.Cassandrawas first produced in 1905 at the Teatro Communale in Bologna and has since been heard at Ferrara in 1908, in Vienna at the Volksoper in 1911 and in Philadelphia in 1914. Gnecchi's instrumentation has been much praised, likened in fact to that of Richard Strauss. On its American production several critics found in the scoring ofCassandramuch that recalled that of Strauss'sElektra. When they were reminded of the date of production and composition ofCassandra, Gnecchi was soon vindicated from the charge of having copied the Munich composer's orchestral writing.
Worthy of record are Giuseppe Bezzi (b. 1874) with hisQuo Vadis, Renzo Bianchi (b. 1887) with hisFausta, Renato Brogi (b. 1873) withOblioandLa Prima Notte, Alessandro Bustini (b. 1876) withMaria Dulcis, Arturo Cadore (b. 1877) withIl Natale, Ezio Camussi (b. 1883) withLa Du Barry, Agostino Cantu (b. 1878) withIl Poeta, Leopoldo Cassone (b. 1878) withAl MulinoandVelda, Roberto Catolla (b. 1871) withLa Campana di Groninga, Giuseppe Cicognani (b. 1870) withIl Figlio Del Mare, Domenico Cortopassi (b. 1875) withSanta Poesia, Alfredo Cuscina (b. 1881) withRadda, Ferruccio Cusinati (b. 1873) withMedoraandTradita, and Franco Leoni withIb e la Piccola Cristina,L'Oracolo,Raggio di luna,Rip Van WinkleandTzigana.
A. W. K.