BENVENUTO CELLINI.
Opera in three acts by HECTOR BERLIOZ.
Text by de WAILLY and BARRIER, translated into German by PETER CORNELIUS.
This opera by the spirited French musician has had a singular fate. Composed more than forty years ago it never had the success it merited in France; a "succès d'estime" was the only result. Liszt, who was the saviour of many a talented struggler was the first to recognize the genius of the French composer. He brought the opera out upon the stage at Weimar, but without much success. Berlioz was not understood by the public. Devrient in Carlsruhe tried a similar experiment and failed, and so the opera was almost forgotten, until Germany, remembering the duty owed to genius of whatever nationality it may be, placed it upon the stage in Dresden, on the 4th of Nov. 1888 under the leadership of one of the ablest of modern interpreters of music, Director Schuch.—Its representation was a triumph. Though Berlioz can in nowise be compared with Wagner, whose music is much more realistic and sensuous Wagner may nevertheless be said to have opened a path for Berlioz' style, which, though melodious differs widely from that of the easy flowing Italian school, being more serious as well as more difficult for the musical novice to understand. This explains, why Berlioz' compatriots esteemed, but never liked him; he was too scientific. To-day our ears and understanding are better prepared for striking intervals and complicated orchestration, which latter is the most brilliant feature in the opera.
Indeed the instrumentation is simply perfect, the choruses are master-pieces of originality, life and melody, and the rythm with its syncopes, is so remarkable, that one is more than justified in calling the style unique; it is Berlioz and no other.
The text is far less good than the music, though the hero, whose life Goethe found worthy of description in the 24th and 25th volume of his works, might well interest.—The libretto is by no means strictly historical, and suffers from improbabilities, which can only be excused in an opera.
The tale is laid in Rome in the year 1532 under Pope Clement VII, and comprises the events of three days, Monday before Shrove-tide, Shrove-Tuesday and Ash-Wednesday.—Benvenuto Cellini, the Tuscan goldsmith has been called to Rome by the Pope, in order to embellish the city with his masterpieces. He loves Teresa, the daughter of the old papal treasurer Balducci, and the love is mutual.—At the same time another suitor, Fieramosca, the Pope's sculptor, is favored by her father. Old Balducci grumbles in the first scene at the Pope's predilection for Cellini, declaring that such an excellent sculptor as Fieramosca ought to suffice. He goes for a walk and Cellini finds Teresa alone. To save her from Fieramosca he plans an elopement, selecting the close of the Carnival as the time best suited for carrying out their design. The rendez-vous is to be the Piazza di Colonna, where he will wait for her, disguised as a monk in white, accompanied by a Capuchin, his pupil Ascanio.—Unhappily the rival Fieramosca has entered unseen, and overheard all. The ensuing terzetto is a masterpiece. While the lovers are bidding each-other farewell Balducci returns; and Cellini has scarcely time to hide behind the window-curtain before he enters. The father is surprised to find his daughter still up and Teresa, seeking for an excuse to send him away, feigns to be frightened by a thief in her chamber. There Balducci finds the hapless Fieramosca hidden and Cellini meanwhile escapes. Balducci and his daughter calling for help, all the female servants and women of the neighborhood appear armed with brooms and wooden spoons. They fall upon the hapless lover and finally force him to escape through the window.
In the second act we find Cellini in a tavern with his pupils and friends. They have no money left to pay for their wine, when Ascanio brings gold from the Pope, which however he only delivers after Cellini has given a solemn promise to finish at once the statue of Perseus he is engaged upon. Great is the general wrath, when they find the money consist of but a paltry sum, and they resolve to avenge themselves on the avaricious treasurer Balducci, by personating him in the theatre. Fieramosca, who has again been eaves-dropping turns for help to his friend Pompeo, a bravo.—And they decide to outwit Cellini, by adopting the same costumes as he and his pupil.
The scene changes; we see the Piazza di Colonna and the theatre, in which the pantomime of King Midas is acted. Balducci who is there with his daughter among the spectators recognizes in the snoring King a portrait of himself and furiously advances to grapple with him. Cellini profits by the ensuing tumult to approach Teresa, but at the same time Fieramosca comes up with Pompeo, and Teresa cannot discern which is the true lover, owing to the masks.—A fight ensues, in which Cellini stabs Pompeo. He is arrested and Teresa flies with the Capuchin Ascanio to Cellini's atelier. The enraged people are about to lynch the murderer, when three cannon shots are fired announcing that it is Ash-Wednesday; the lights are extinguished and Cellini escapes in the darkness.
The third act represents Cellini's atelier with the workmen in it. Teresa, not finding her lover is in great distress. Ascanio consoles her, and when the Miserere of the Penitents is heard, both join in the prayer to the Holy Virgin.
Suddenly Cellini rushes in, and embracing Teresa, relates that he fled the night before into a house. A procession of penitent monks passing by in the morning, he joined them, as their white cowls were similar to his own disguise. He decides to escape at once to Florence with Teresa, but is already pursued by Balducci, who appears with Fieramosca and insists on his daughter's returning and marrying the latter. At this moment the Cardinal Salviati steps in to look for the statue. He is highly indignant, that Cellini, thoughtless like all artists, has not kept his promise. Hearing him moreover accused by Balducci, he threatens severe punishment and finally declares that Perseus shall be cast by another.—Cellini in the pride of genius and full of rage seizes a hammer, and, surrounded by his workmen declares, that he will rather destroy his work than see it finished by another.
The Cardinal, overcome by fear of the loss, changes his tactics, and in compliance with Cellini's request promises him full pardon and Teresa's hand, if he finishes Perseus in an hour's time, as Cellini offers to do.—Should he fail in his gigantic task, his life will be forfeit.
All set to work at once; even Fieramosca at the Cardinal's request assists. More and more metal is demanded; Cellini sacrifices all his masterpieces in gold and silver. At last the casting is completed, Cellini breaks the mould and the statue of Perseus shines faultlessly forth, a wonder of art, a thing of glory bringing immortality to its maker. All present bend before the greatness of genius and Fieramosca, the rival in art and love is the first to kiss and embrace Cellini, who obtains full pardon and the hand of Teresa along with her father's blessing.
BY ORDER OF HIS HIGHNESS
(AUF HOHEN BEFEHL.)
Comic Opera in three acts by CARL REINECKE.
Text by the composer after RIEHL's novel: "Ovidius at Court."
Reinecke of Leipzig is known both as excellent pianist and composer of no ordinary talent. The Dresden theatre has been one of the first to put the new opera upon its boards and with regard to the music, the expectations entertained have been fully realised.
It is true music, melodious and beautiful. Reinecke's musical language free, untrammelled and suggestive, only assumes decided form in the character of a song, or when several voices are united. The instrumentation is very interesting and the popular melody remarkably well characterized.
So he introduces for instance the wellknown popular song: "Kein Feuer, keine Kohle" (no fire, no coal can burn) with the most exquisite variations.
The libretto is not as perfect as the music, being rather improbable.
A little German Residential Capital of the last century forms the background to the picture.
Franz, the son of the Organist Ignaz Laemml, introduces himself to Dal Segno, the celebrated Italian singing-master as the Bohemian singer Howora. He obtains lessons from the capricious old man, who however fails to recognize in him the long-absent son of his old enemy. Cornelia, Dal Segno's daughter however is not so slow in recognizing the friend of her childhood, who loves her and has all her love, as we presently learn. Franz has only taken the name of Howora, in order to get into favor with the maiden's father, an endeavour in which he easily succeeds owing to his musical talents.
Meanwhile the Prince is determined to have an opera composed from Ovid's metamorphoses. He has chosen Pyramus and Thisbe, but as the Princess is of a very gay disposition, a request is made that the tragedy have a happy solution, a whim which puts old pedantic Laemml quite out of sorts.
In the second act Louis, one of the princely lackeys, brings a large cracknel and huge paper-cornet of sweets for Cornelia, whom he courts and whose favor he hopes in this way to win.
When he is gone, Dal Segno's sister Julia, lady's maid to the Princess, enters with birthday-presents for her niece Cornelia, and among the things which attract her attentions sees the cracknel, beside which she finds a note from her own faithless lover Louis. Filled with righteous indignation she takes it away.
Cornelia stepping out to admire her birthday-presents, meets Franz, and after a tender scene, the young man tells his lady-love, that he has been fortunate enough to invent for his father a happy issue to the tragedy of Pyramus and Thisbe, and that they may now hope the best from the grateful old master.
Meanwhile good old Laemml himself appears to ask his old enemy Dal Segno to give singing-lessons to his dear son. The Italian teacher is very rude and ungracious, Laemml's blood rises also and a fierce quarrel ensues, which is interrupted by the arrival of the Prince. Having heard their complaints, he decides that the quarrel is to be settled by a singing competition in which Howora, Dal Segno's new and greatly praised pupil, and Franz, Laemml's son, are to contest for the laurels. Both masters are content and decide on a duet for tenor and soprano. This is a happy choice and Franz, who with Cornelia has heard everything, causes his lady-love to disguise herself, in order to play the part of Franz, while he decides to appear as Howora.
In the third act the Princess receives old Laemml, who comes to tell her, that he has complied with her wishes as to the happy issue of the tale and confides to her his son's secret, that Franz and Howora are one and the same person.—The gracious Princess promises her assistance, and Laemml leaves her very happy, dancing and merry-making with the Prince's fool.—
In the evening Louis finds Julia attired in Cornelia's dress, and believing her to be her niece, he places a ring on her finger and once more pledges his faith to his old love.
The two singers perform their duet so perfectly, that Laemml, uncertain who will obtain the prize begs for a solo. Each-one then sings a popular song (Volkslied), and all agree that Howora has triumphed. The happy victor is crowned with the laurels. But the Princess, touched by the sweet voice of the other singer puts a rose-wreath on his brow. When the cap is taken off, Dal Segno perceives that the pretended Franz has the curls of his own daughter.—Howora being presented to him as Laemml's son, he can do no other than yield. He embraces old Laemml and gives his benediction to the lovers.
CARLO BROSCHI
or
THE DEVIL'S PART.
Comic Opera in three acts by AUBER.
Text by SCRIBE.
This composition might rather be called a Vaudeville with musical accompaniment, than an opera. The music is not above mediocrity, though we find many pleasing and even exquisite melodies in it. That it has held its present place on the stage for the past forty years is due principally to its excellent libretto, which is full of comical and ingenious situations. The principal role is given to Carlo Broschi. He is no other than the famous singer Farinelli, who as a matter of fact did heal a Spanish King from madness, though it was not Ferdinand IV, but his predecessor Philip V, the husband of Elizabeth of Ferrara. Notwithstanding these anachronisms the libretto ranks with the best.
Carlo Broschi has placed his only sister Casilda in a convent near Madrid, to save her from the persecutions of the clergy, who have been trying for reasons of their own to give the beautiful maiden to the King. Casilda confesses to her brother that she is in love with an unknown cavalier, who entertains a like passion for her, but Carlo, a poor minstrel, considers that his sister, a milliner, does not stand high enough in the social scale to permit a lawful union with a nobleman.
Carlo meets the King accidentally. He has fallen into deep melancholy, and Carlo succeeds in cheering him by singing an old romance, which he learnt from his mother. Both King and Queen are full of gratitude, and Carlo soon finds himself at court and loaded with honors. In his new position he meets with Raphael d'Estuniga, Casilda's lover.
In despair at having lost his lady-love he is about to appeal to the Devil for help, when Carlo appears, presenting himself as Satan. He promises his help on condition that Raphael shall give him one half of all his winnings. This is a condition easily accepted, and Raphael is made a Court Official through Carlo's influence.
Meanwhile the clergy vainly try to ensnare the King again; Carlo is like his better self; he disperses his Sire's melancholy by singing to him and rekindles his interest in government.
Raphael, feeling quite secure in his league with the Devil, begins to play; he is fortunate, but Carlo never fails to claim the share, which is willingly surrendered to him.
All at once Casilda appears on the scene to put herself under the protection of her brother, the priests having found out her refuge. She recognizes the King, and tells her brother that it was he, to whom she was taken against her will. The King believes her to be a ghost and his reason threatens to give way, but Carlo assures him that the girl is living. The Queen, who knows nothing of her husband's secret, here interrupts the conversation and bids Carlo follow her.
Meanwhile Raphael and Casilda have an interview, but the King comes suddenly upon them and at once orders Raphael to be put to death, the latter having failed in the reverence due to his Sovereign. Raphael however trusting in the Devil's help does not let his spirits sink and Carlo actually saves him by telling the King, that Casilda is Raphael's wife.
But the Grand-Inquisitor succeeds in discovering this untruth, and in exciting the King's anger against his favorite. Carlo, much embarrassed, obtains an interview with the King, and confessing the whole truth assures him, that the Queen knows as yet nothing and implores him to give his thoughts and his affections once more to her and to his country. The King, touched to generosity, gives his benediction to the lovers, together with a new title for Raphael, who is henceforth to be called Count of Puycerda. Now at last Raphael learns that the so-called Devil is his bride's brother, who tells him that this time his share lies in making two lovers happy, a share which gives him both pleasure and content.