[CHAPTER VIII]
THIRD PERIOD OPERAS
A matured style—Methusaleh of Opera—The last link—Aïda—A higher art plane—Ismail Pacha commissions Aïda—Its libretto—Production at Cairo—The argument—Patti as Aïda—Athenæum criticism of Aïda—Otello—Scene in Milan—The initial cast—Its production and reception in London and Paris—Athenæum review of Otello—Its story—Vocal and instrumental qualities—Falstaff—A surprise defeated—Boito—Falstaff produced at La Scala—In France—Falstaff at Covent Garden—The comedy and its music—Athenæum opinion of Falstaff—A crowning triumph.
We venture upon the Third and last, the "mature" period in Verdi's great career. It forms a truly interesting phase of a long life, because it has proved productive of his best music. This later work places Verdi at the head of his profession, and among the most remarkable men of the century. That, when verging on sixty years of age, he should submit Aïda, an opera abounding in the strength, vitality, and freedom of youth, constituted a musical event that was greeted with enthusiasm by the whole artistic world; but it was regarded as something more extraordinary when, fifteen years later, the great creative faculty of the master found vent in Otello. This achievement won the admiration of lovers of art and letters throughout the globe. Yet that stroke was to be surpassed. Five years later, when the maestro was eighty years of age, to the astonishment of everybody, Falstaff was given to the world. No wonder that Verdi has been styled the "grand old man" of music.
The genesis of Aïda was on this wise. Ismail Pacha, Khedive of Egypt, desired a novelty for the inauguration of the new Italian theatre at Cairo, and sought a brand-new opera, on the composer's own terms. Verdi—consulting pupil Muzio—named the sum of £4000 sterling, to which the Khedive agreed. The feeling was towards a work with local colour and interest; hence the Aïda book—the joint production of Mariette Bey, M.C. du Cocle, and Signor Ghislanzoni—was decided upon.
In a few months the score was completed; meanwhile the scenery and costumes were being prepared in Paris. But there proved to be no heed for haste. The Franco-German war broke out, and for several months the art of painter and costumier was locked up in the besieged city. At length the eventful day for the production of Aïda came round, however, and the work was given for the first time publicly, at the Cairo theatre, on Sunday, 24th January 1871. The cast was as follows:—Aïda, Madame Pozzoni-Anastasi; Amnéris, Madame Grossi; Radamès, Signor Mongini; Ramfis, Signor Medini; Amonasro, Signor Costa; King, Signor Steller, with Signor Bottesini as conductor, because Verdi, having a horror of the sea and given to mal de mer, could not be induced to make the journey to Cairo. The final rehearsal lasted from seven in the evening until half-past three the next morning, while the performance itself was one of the most gorgeous that had graced even the Egyptian capital. Crowds were turned from the doors, and those who had seats might have sold them, to use a common and hardly accurate expression, for their weight in gold.
Notabilities of every country were there, sharing the evident enthusiasm of the Khedive, who, when the representation was concluded, sent a telegram to Verdi congratulating him heartily upon the success and excellence of the work. The excitement was immense, and the salvoes of applause that greeted number after number of the opera were easily heard outside the walls of the theatre. There was only one opinion about Aïda. On all sides it was adjudged a masterpiece, the finest work that had been issued from the master's pen. From Cairo Aïda was taken to La Scala Theatre (17th February 1872), and subsequently it was presented at the Théâtre Italien in Paris, where in three successive seasons it had some seventy representations. In 1876 it was produced for the first time in England at Covent Garden Theatre; and a French version of the opera was also given at the Paris Opéra on 22nd March 1880.
The scene of the opera is laid at Memphis and at Thebes during the rule of the Pharaohs over Egypt. Aïda, daughter of Amonasro, King of Ethiopia, having fallen into the hands of the Egyptians, is brought back a prisoner into Egypt, where her grace and beauty win for her a place as slave to Amnéris, the Egyptian king's daughter. In this association she is seen by Radamès, a captain, and eventually commander-in-chief of the Egyptian troops. Amnéris, entertaining a secret affection for this young soldier in her father's service, becomes alarmed on finding that the bearing of Aïda shows her to be similarly affected. Her jealousy is aroused, and she vows vengeance on her rival. Amonasro then comes into prominence. A prisoner in one of the battles between the Egyptians and the Ethiopians, he is brought to Egypt, no one save Aïda knowing his rank, for he was fighting as an officer merely. As a reward for his martial services, the Egyptian king offers Radamès his daughter's hand in marriage, which, seeing that he is deeply in love with Aïda, places him in a difficult position. Amonasro meanwhile gets scent of the affection between Aïda and Radamès, and discovering their trysting-place, urges his daughter to induce Radamès to betray his country. This he does, and being seized, is tried, found guilty, and condemned by the sacred council to be buried alive. Amnéris, the king's daughter, secures for him her father's pardon, on his consenting to abandon Aïda for ever. This he refuses to do, for he prefers the slave to the mistress. On the stone being lowered which is to immure him in a living tomb, he is seen with Aïda by his side, she having contrived to penetrate into the dark vault of the Temple of Phtha in order to prove her constancy and love, by sharing his fate, and like Romeo and Juliet, dying together. Such is briefly the story of the Aïda libretto.
A close study of the plot shows it to be neither strictly logical nor consistent; at the same time the book abounds with striking and sensational situations, appreciated alike by musicians and dramatists.