Masters of French Music

by Arthur Hervey

Although strangely unequal, "Mefistofele" is nevertheless in many ways a highly remarkable work, particularly as marking a departure from the usual methods peculiar to Italian composers, and aiming at a higher ideal. It has born fruit. Boïto is a poet as well as a musician, and in his operatic adaptation of "Faust" he has evidently striven to depart as little as possible from Goethe's plan. This is of course commendable. Unfortunately, the result has not been altogether satisfactory, for in endeavouring to compress the two "Fausts" of Goethe into one work, the Italian composer has been compelled to make a selection from the different situations occurring in the original, and has only succeeded in presenting a succession of scenes strung together apparently without rhyme or reason. A proper sub-title for "Mefistofele" would be, "A selection of scenes from the two Fausts of Goethe, operatically treated by A. Boïto." Certainly the librettists of Gounod's opera have shown but scant regard for Goethe's intentions, but they have at any rate concocted a story with a well-regulated and dramatically logical plot. Boïto, on the other hand, in his evident desire to do justice to Goethe, has attempted too much and achieved too little. "Qui trop embrasse, mal étreint." This has been the case with Boïto. Many people have tried to discover a philosophical meaning, and the realisation of a quantity of abstract notions in Boïto's music, which only exist in their imagination. Perhaps the three composers who have best grasped the spirit of the wonderful poem have been Schumann, Liszt, and Wagner: the first in his "Scenes from Faust," the second in his "Faust Symphony," the third in his "Faust Overture." Gounod has been more successful in this respect than many people are inclined to allow. It is only necessary to point to the first bars of the Prelude and the commencement of the first act as a proof of this fact.

Of late years Berlioz's "Damnation de Faust" has acquired a well-deserved though tardily-bestowed popularity. It was considered by the composer as one of his best works, a judgment which has since then received a practically universal endorsement. At the same time, it is rather by reason of its own individuality than as a satisfactory interpretation of Goethe, that the above "dramatic legend" is entitled to the high rank it occupies in the esteem of musicians, and much of the effect produced by this extraordinary composition can in a large measure be assigned to the glamour shed over it by the wonderful orchestral colouring that Berlioz knew so well how to employ, his mastery of which will probably remain his chief glory with posterity. Berlioz states that the score of his "Faust" was composed by him with an amount of facility that he rarely experienced in connection with his other works. The famous march on a Hungarian theme was written by him in one night. "The extraordinary effect," he writes, "that it produced at Pesth decided me to introduce it into the score of 'Faust,' in taking the liberty of placing my hero in Hungary at the outset of the work, and causing him to assist at the passing of a Hungarian army across the plain where he is indulging in dreamy thoughts." Berlioz excuses this liberty by stating that in composing his "Faust" he had never intended to bind himself into following the plan adopted by Goethe in his masterpiece. This specious sort of argument is all very well in its way, and the adoption of similar methods might prove of infinite service to composers in enabling them to utilise previously-written works, and thereby save themselves trouble. Whether it is artistic or not, is another matter. If we suppose, for instance, that Berlioz had had by him a "Tarantella" and an Irish jig, he might have transported his hero alternately to Italy and to Erin, and named his work "The Travels of Faust," which at any rate would not have been open to the same objection as the original title chosen by him. Despite these casual observations and the fact that, looked at from the point of view of a satisfactory interpretation of Goethe's poem, the work falls short, Berlioz's "Faust" none the less remains one of its author's most inspired compositions; beautiful in parts, though needlessly eccentric in others; powerful, and, above all, eminently individual.

If the "Faust" of Berlioz may be ranked as one of its author's best works, the same place of honour can undoubtedly be ascribed to the "Scenes from Faust" of Schumann in the lengthy catalogue of the master of Zwickau's compositions, and it is strange that so few opportunities should be afforded to Londoners of appreciating its beauties. The second part of this work is generally considered by musicians as being the most remarkable, but Schumann's setting of the Church scene counts amongst his finest inspirations. The overture is the weakest portion, and cannot compare with Wagner's masterly tone-poem known as "Eine Faust Ouverture," one of the most striking examples of modern orchestral music. I must not omit to mention the "Faust Symphony" of Liszt, which is also too seldom performed, probably on account of its length and extreme difficulty, also possibly owing to the uncompromising hostility entertained in certain quarters against the master's music. Although consisting of three movements—labelled respectively "Faust," "Marguerite," and "Mephistophéles," the work in question might rather come under the category of a "symphonic poem." It is constructed upon entirely unconventional lines, the themes being subjected to various transformations, after the method peculiar to Liszt. The second portion is one of the most beautiful movements in the entire range of instrumental music.

The following composers have also treated the same subject more or less successfully: Prince Radziwill, Litolff, Hugo Pierson, Zöllner, and Eduard Lassen.[17] The latter's incidental music is constantly given in Germany in conjunction with the drama. As this is the age of festivals, I should like to suggest to the minds of those responsible in such matters the feasibility of attempting what might be termed a "Faust" festival. This could be made to occupy the inside of a week, and would be devoted entirely to works inspired by Goethe's poem. I venture to think that the idea is susceptible of being turned to good account. Many musical treasures, the existence of which is unsuspected, would thereby come to light.

It would appear to be almost needless to attempt to give a description of the music that Gounod has wedded to Messrs. Michel Carré and Jules Barbier's operatic version of "Faust." That it is perhaps the most popular opera composed during the last fifty years is a generally recognised fact, and one that is not likely to be seriously contested, whatever restrictions may be made from different points of view concerning its merits. Since it was first produced, a new generation has sprung up, and what appeared startlingly bold thirty years ago has long ceased to be so considered. In 1859 matters were very different from what they now are. The operatic pabulum in England consisted of the works of Balfe and Wallace. In France, Auber was at the head of the Conservatoire; Ambroise Thomas had written neither "Mignon" nor "Hamlet"; Clapisson, Massé, Maillart, and composers of that calibre, enjoyed the confidence of the patrons of the Opéra Comique; whilst Berlioz and Wagner were looked upon as musical iconoclasts.

In Italy, Verdi reigned supreme, the Verdi of "Il Trovatore" and "La Traviata," and nothing tended to foreshadow the astonishing transformation of style that was eventually to lead the master to compose works such as "Aïda," the "Requiem," "Otello," and "Falstaff."

Musical education has made considerable progress since those days, and the all-absorbing individuality of Wagner has exercised a sway over musical art that is far from having spent itself.

The form in which "Faust" was composed did not tend to differ in any appreciable degree from that adopted by Meyerbeer, with the exception that certain Italianisms and concessions to the vocalist were dispensed with.

Gounod's method, from which he has not since departed, seems to have been to musically delineate each phase of the drama, treating every scene as a separate whole—that is to say, without having recourse to any connecting link or leit motiv; the recurrence of previously-heard melodies in the fifth act hardly coming under this category. He is satisfied to depict his characters in music that is intended to be more or less in accordance with their individuality. Herein consists the great difference that separates his works from those that are conceived after Wagnerian ideas.

The music allotted to Mephistophéles has an appropriate amount of Satanic colouring, and is invested with a certain grim humour. It has been remarked that Gounod has been less successful than Berlioz in his musical depiction of the philosophical side of Goethe's poem. This may or may not be true, but in comparing the two works it must be recollected that the composers cannot be judged from the same point of view, for whereas Berlioz was hampered by no theatrical trammels or operatic conventionalities, but was able to turn the legend to whatever account he chose, even to transporting Faust to the plains of Hungary and accompanying him to the infernal regions, Gounod was to a certain extent dependent upon his librettists, who saw in Goethe's poem nothing more than a story susceptible of being turned to operatic purposes. As to what really constitutes the philosophical in music, probably no two people will agree. Music is intended to convey certain impressions which in turn cause corresponding emotions to the listener, in accordance with that which it has been the composer's intention to depict. If it fails in so doing, the fault may be ascribed either to the composer's incapacity, or to a want of sympathetic feeling on the part of the listener.