The ignorance of the Italians, patricians and peasantry alike, made the functioning of Italy’s really great literary works during the Nineteenth century, impotent as stimuli productive of national and contemporaneous reactions. Of late, however, a new educational impulse has been given by the establishment of the public school. This is certain greatly to increase stimuli products in the Italian nervous system, and the Italian need for a corresponding complexity in its Music is even now being manifested.
With the installation of transport facilities to the new world, a fresh and somewhat romantic stimulus has been given to the Italian people. The letters of absent relatives reflect world news, and widen mental views for whole villages. Besides, railroads have opened up new intercourse between the various parts of Italy, and the telegraph, electric light, new home inventions, industrial occupations, factories and so forth, each in turn—or at times all together—have disturbed the bodily rhythm by increased stimulation, so that the late demands for realism in France and Germany did indeed find partial echo in Italy, in “The Cavalleria Rusticana” of Mascagni, a spectacular but not profound opera, which aroused amazing enthusiasm by its characteristic presentation of familiar forms. These were new in their realistic color, yet old in Italian life, and they pictured in their dramatic action, the stronger taste of the day. Puccini mirrored the still deeper stimulus of his time, in his “Manon Lescaut” (1893), “La Boheme” (1896), “La Tosca” (1900) and “Madam Butterfly” (1904), the latter inconsistent in its mixture of tragedy with soft Italian tunefulness, for even Puccini fails to discard the characteristic tunefulness of his race, in his too evident striving for such discordant effects, as, however, unintentionally represent the discordant elements in Italy’s modern civilization.
These works show that Italy has awakened from her lazy sleep under the rule of foreigners, and that she is now beginning to feel the stir of larger economic disturbances, in those depths of the social mind, already so thoroughly stirred and active in France and Germany.
The care given to the musical needs of Italy by her central authorities is shown later in this book.[30]
FOOTNOTES:
[30] See [Appendices C] and [E].
CHAPTER VI.
England (1800-1913).
The history of England during the Nineteenth century presents but little disturbance at home, along lines calculated so to move mental depths, as to produce complicated re-establishing forms in musical rhythm. Labor troubles harassed the national thought in their usual superficial manner, rarely causing the loss of a night’s sleep, or the disturbance of appetite, and the many reforms in the interest of trade, affected but slowly the depths of emotionalism. It has ever been a noticeable fact, that impersonal or distant calamities but slightly arouse the national emotions. People read and comment upon the slaughter of women and children, and at the same time pleasurably partake of a good dinner. The fact is, that emotions are not easily aroused by distant stimuli, and people also respond with ever decreasing force to unchanging present stimuli.
Present day labor agitations have already passed the boundaries of mild stimulation, and are fast becoming emotional forces which are evidently driving headlong into governmental change. Capitalism has run its oppressive course, and for the near future a genuinely soul-tearing agitation is preparing, which, if allowed to rip open the veins of the nation, will produce the stimuli, that eventually will endow English Music with a richness and depth, superior to that of any other country. British emotions have been sleeping deeply under two centuries of mild emotional stimuli, but when they do stretch their strong fibres for action, then one may indeed tremble for the old systems of English government; and then also the great musical triumphs of Belgium and Germany may be surpassed. Considering the mental attitude of the British community during the Nineteenth century, and at the present day, it was to be expected that Balfe’s “Lurline” should represent the nation’s rhythmic need up to 1870, and that the musical works of Benedict (“The Lily of Killarney,” and the oratorios of “St. Peter” and “St. Cecilia”), should have found popular appreciation up to 1885. But the composer who best illustrates England’s characteristic activity,—that of colonization,—its military and political aspects, the clean minded and religious attitude of Victoria’s rule, and the general lightly disturbing characteristics of Nineteenth century economic stimuli, was Sir Arthur Sullivan in his charming works, “The Mikado,” “Pinafore,” “The Pirates of Penzance,” “Patience,” “The Yeoman of the Guard,” “Iolanthe” and “The Sorcerer.” England did much in this century to advance the culture of Music within her borders. The Royal head was patron of such institutions as The Royal Academy of South Kensington, The Royal College of Music, The Guildhall School of Music and Trinity College. These are in general supported by government grants, donations, and subscribing patrons.[31] The national faith is still strongly expressed in the extensive cultivation of the oratorio, while the secular ideal has not yet become sufficiently abnormal to genuinely encourage Music of the present French and German schools. This is probably because England’s emotions are not in need of such representations, since they are still adequately reflected in the lighter works of Italian genius, as expressed by Verdi[32] and in her own lovely light operas. It seems more than a coincidence that the Music of a country so marvellously reflects the character of the economic stimuli of its period, as does Great Britain’s.
That England has a genuine care for the development of musical culture in her realm is shown by the letter from the Board of Education, Whitehall, London.[33]