The nature of Fauré's talent has been appreciated by Mons. Camille Benoit in these terms: "Fauré's talent has especially manifested itself in 'La Musique Intime,' that which one hears in an artist's salon or at a concert of chamber music, that which wants neither scenery nor orchestra. From all points of view, if I had to liken him to a contemporary foreign composer, it is to the Norwegian, Eduard Grieg, that I should compare him. That is to say, that in France, G. Fauré is the first in the special line he has chosen, and towards which his nature has impelled him."
I now come to a composer who has only comparatively recently made a name. Emmanuel Chabrier was born in 1842, and commenced his musical career somewhat late in life. Always a musical enthusiast, and having found time to cultivate his favourite art as a pastime, he threw up an administrative appointment in 1879, and resolved to devote himself entirely to composition. Two years previously he had written an "opéra bouffe," entitled "L'Etoile," which was played at the Bouffes Parisiens. It was not, however, in this style that he was destined to shine. Very different is "Gwendoline," an opera performed for the first time in 1886 at Brussels with great success, and which has since been given in Germany, notably at Carlsruhe and Munich, and is, I believe, shortly to be mounted in Paris. Highly imaginative and poetical, this work must undoubtedly rank amongst the best operas that have emanated from the brain of a French composer for many years. The intense admiration that Chabrier entertains towards Wagner has not obscured the individuality of his own musical ideas. Ernest Reyer wrote an extremely eulogistic article on this work, from which I will cite an extract:—"Je me trouve en présence d'une œuvre extrêmement intéressante, renfermant des pages superbes et qui dans ses parties les moins saillantes, porte quand même la griffe puissante d'un compositeur admirablement doué."
For some reason, which I do not pretend to fathom, Chabrier has introduced a popular Irish melody into his score!
In "Le Roi Malgré Lui," played at the Opéra Comique in 1887, Chabrier has attempted a different style. This pleasing work is especially striking through the ingenuity of the orchestral treatment, which often redeems the occasional banalité of its themes. It is altogether a delightful example of a modernised form of "opéra comique," and had reached its third representation when the luckless "Opéra Comique" Theatre was burnt to the ground. The orchestral rhapsody "España," constructed upon Spanish melodies, brimful of entrain and scored with a wonderful lightness of touch, has largely contributed to popularise the name of Chabrier in the concert room. There is both fancy and originality in the "Pièces Pittoresques" for piano, published by Messrs. Enoch in the Litolff edition. Chabrier is said to be at work upon an opera entitled "Briseis."
I must not pass over in silence composers such as Arthur Coquard, Mdlle. Augusta Holmès, a lady of extraordinary talent, some say genius, Vidal, Chapuis, Hue, Camille Benoit, Marty, Henri Duparc, and Gustave Charpentier, one of the youngest and not the least gifted.
With these few lines concerning some of the most remarkable amongst living French composers, I must take leave of my readers. That France will yet produce works destined to keep up and further enhance her prestige there can be no doubt. The essentially dramatic temperament of her composers will continue to assert itself, and it is highly unlikely that they will allow themselves to fall into the exaggerations of any particular system.
If during the first half of the century the influence of Rossini has been predominant, that of Wagner has been at least equally so during the latter portion. In either case, French composers have taken as much from each master as would amalgamate with their individuality without abrogating that national element which is so recognisable in their productions.
Truth of expression and dramatic characterisation are now universally sought for by operatic composers. Whether these are attained through the employment of one method or another matters but little. A composer is no more bound to construct an opera upon a number of representative themes than he is to reject all set forms. If his inspiration prompts him to compose in one particular style, by all means let him do so, provided he be sincere, and that his music bears the stamp of conviction. Musicians are apt to be too exclusive in their tastes. It should be possible to entertain preferences without necessarily condemning everything that does not come within the radius of one's ideas. The French school has, during this century, left its mark in an undeniable manner upon operatic history, and the versatility of its composers has over and over again been proved.
Casting a cursory glance backwards, do we not find, side by side with a work of such severely classic proportions, noble aspirations, yet simple construction as Méhul's "Joseph," bright specimens of the "opéra comique," like Boïeldieu's "Dame Blanche," Hérold's "Pré aux Clercs," Auber's "Fra Diavolo," and "Domino Noir"? The Grand Opéra stage is enriched by works so full of natural spontaneity as Auber's "Muette de Portici," and of dramatic power as Halévy's "La Juive." Later on, Berlioz revolutionises orchestral methods whilst raising the ideal previously aimed at, Gounod adds an elegiac note and an intensity of poetical feeling to the characteristics of his nation, and Bizet gives evidence of a genius unhappily too soon cut short, and prepares the way for the realistic operatic style now so much in vogue. "Faust," "Mignon," "Carmen," "Manon," "Samson et Dalila," and other operas acquire a European fame, whilst the younger French composers are impatiently waiting for the opportunity to vie with their elders.
In closing this little volume I must again express the consciousness I entertain of the inadequacy of my efforts to deal with a subject that would require several volumes to do it justice.