III
At the present time it is difficult to regard Alfred Bruneau (born 1857) as a pioneer. His style is extremely thin and his melody seems at first glance to be cut from the same piece as Massenet’s. But it is as an innovator that Bruneau is chiefly valued in France. In the early nineties, when Debussy was still an unknown experimenter (a ‘crazy man,’ like all radical innovators in their early years), he was thrilling Paris with his strange, new expressive harmonies, accurately delineating moods and suggesting colors. His operas, to librettos or adaptations from Zola, were a new thing in France. He experimented largely with unconventional harmonies and phrases for the voice which fell into no known category. Paris was at first puzzled, but quickly caught the idea. This was because, while Bruneau’s music was truly an innovation and absolutely in line with the work of the new French school, it was based on an idiom that France knew well and was managed so cautiously that the novelties were clear to the audience without being painful. By this time Bruneau seems little more than a composer of a past generation. Yet we must give him full credit for courage, for artistic feeling, and for considerable musical creativeness. His songs are not many. The Lieds de France (words by Catulle Mendès) are simple lyrics somewhat in the older traditional style of French songs, executed with a wealth of the most delicate suggestion of color. ‘The Gay Vagabond’ is in Bruneau’s most typical style—a clear-cut and flowing melody over the simplest of chords, with the unusual features so discreetly written that at first hearing they hardly seem to be there at all.
Paul Vidal (born 1863) is only by courtesy included in the present chapter. He has escaped the curse of the old French school but his talent lies not at all in the field of innovation. He is a born lyricist, spontaneous, fresh, graceful. He is master of more than one style, as his settings of Shakespeare’s lyrics prove. The ‘Winter Song,’ from ‘Love’s Labor Lost,’ preserves a certain archaic flavor that is charming. The Psaume nuptial is grandiose but not pompous, an invigorating piece of honest music. In the children’s song, ‘The Play Leader,’ Vidal attempts the descriptive, with a liberal use of dissonance and modern harmony, but it is evident that he has no natural turn toward the new style. Yet the song is dainty and picturesque. The Ariette ‘Were I a Sunbeam’ and the ‘Address to the Well Beloved,’ as well as a more recent song, ‘Loving,’ are well worth knowing for their simple musicianly beauty, and Madame la fée is a model of delicate lyricism. In his more ambitious mood Vidal is represented by ‘Thine Eyes.’ But he is a composer to whom we turn not for stimulation in technical matters, but for simple beauty. His songs are in that class which can hardly enter into a history at all, but are delightful byways to turn to for mere pleasure.
Gustave Charpentier (born 1860), composer of the world-famous opera ‘Louise,’ has written a handful of songs, some of superior quality. The Chansons à danser are written in imitation of the old French dances, the spirit and the form being caught with keen insight. The best of the group is the ‘Sarabande.’ In the Fleurs du mal he is working in more familiar vein—that spirit of intense and somewhat chaotic emotionalism that distinguishes his operas. When we list the fifteen Poèmes chantés we have named all his songs. Charpentier’s style is modern and genuinely French, but it is sharply distinguished from that of Debussy and Ravel. It is a development of that of Massenet (whose pupil Charpentier was), but it is developed an immense distance beyond ‘Thaïs.’ It contains more of the flesh (and more of the open air) than Debussy ever shows. ‘Atmosphere’ for its own sake enters into his work not at all. Everything is expressive and nearly everything expressive of human emotions. The musical style is admirably adapted to the purpose, choosing from the modern French technique just those elements which it can use. It makes constant use of detached or irregular phrases of melody and these it interweaves in great abundance into the harmonic texture. Charpentier strikes an admirable middle path in modern French music, being neither too intellectual, like d’lndy, nor too technical, like Ravel.