History of the Opera from its Origin in Italy to the present Time / With Anecdotes of the Most Celebrated Composers and Vocalists of Europe

by H. Sutherland Edwards

PAISIELLO IN RUSSIA.

The first great musical work produced in Russia, Paisiello's Barbiere di Siviglia, was performed for the first time at St. Petersburgh, in 1780. In this opera work, of which the success soon became European, the composer entered thoroughly into the spirit of all Beaumarchais's best scenes, so admirably adapted for musical illustration. Of the solos, the three most admired were Almaviva's opening romance, Don Basil's La Calomnia, and the air for Don Bartholo; the other favourite pieces being a comic trio, in which La Jeunesse sneezes, and L'Eveillé yawns in the presence of the tutor (I need scarcely remark that the personages just named belong to Beaumarchais's comedy, and that they are not introduced in Rossini's opera), another trio, in which Rosina gives the letter to Figaro, a duet for the entry of the tenor in the assumed character of Don Alonzo, and a quintett, in which Don Basil is sent to bed, and in which the phrase buona sera is treated with great felicity.

Pergolese rendered a still greater service to Russia than did Paisiello by writing one of his masterpieces for its capital, when he took the young Bortnianski with him from St. Petersburgh to Italy, and there educated the greatest religious composer that Russia, not by any means deficient in composers, has yet known.

A SINGER'S INDISPOSITION.

We have seen that Paisiello, some years after his return to Italy, was engaged by Napoleon as chapel-master, and that the services of Paer were soon afterwards claimed and secured by the emperor as composer of his chamber music. This was not the first time that Paer had been forced to alter his own private arrangements in consequence of the very despotic patronage accorded to music by the victorious leaders of the French army. In 1799 he was at Udine, where his wife was engaged as prima donna. Portogallo's la Donna di genio volubile was about to be represented before a large number of the officers under the command of Bernadotte, when suddenly it appeared impossible to continue the performance owing to the very determined indisposition of the primo basso. This gentleman had gone to bed in the middle of the day disguised as an invalid. He declared himself seriously unwell in the afternoon, and in the evening sent a message to the theatre to excuse himself from appearing in Portogallo's opera. Paer and his wife understood what this meant. The performance was for Madame Paer's benefit; and Olivieri, the perfidious basso, from private pique, had determined, if possible, to prevent it taking place. Paer's spirit was roused by the attitude of the primo buffo, which was still that of a man confined to his bed; and he resolved to frustrate his infamous scheme, which, though simple, appeared certain of success, inasmuch as no other comic basso was to be found anywhere near Udine. The audience was impatient, Madame Paer in tears, the manager in despair, when Paer desired that the performance might begin; saying, that Providence would send them a basso who would at least know his part, and that in any case Madame Paer must get ready for the first scene. Madame Paer obeyed the marital injunction, but in a state of great trepidation; for she had no confidence in the capabilities of the promised basso, and was not by any means sure that he even existed. The curtain was about to rise, when the singer who was to have fallen from the clouds walked quietly on to the stage, perfectly dressed for the part he was about to undertake, and without any sign of hesitation on his countenance. The prima donna uttered a cry of surprise, burst into a fit of laughter, and then rushed weeping into the arms of her husband,—for it was Paer himself who had undertaken to replace the treacherous Olivieri.

"No," said Madame Paer; "this is impossible! It shall never be said that I allowed you, a great composer, who will one day be known throughout Europe, to act the buffoon. No! the performance must be stopped!"

At this moment the final chords of the overture were heard. Poor Madame Paer resigned herself to her fate, and went weeping on to the stage to begin a comic duet with her husband, who seemed in excellent spirits, and commenced his part with so much verve and humour, that the audience rewarded his exertions with a storm of applause. Paer's gaiety soon communicated itself to his wife. If Paer was to perform at all, it was necessary that his performance should outshine that of all possible rivals, and especially that of the miscreant Olivieri, who was now laughing between his sheets at the success which he fancied must have already attended his masterly device. The prima donna had never sung so charmingly before, but the greatest triumph of the evening was gained by the new basso. Olivieri, who previously had been pronounced unapproachable in Portogallo's opera, was now looked upon as quite an inferior singer compared to the buffo caricato who had so unexpectedly presented himself before the Udine public. Paer, in addition to his great, natural histrionic ability, knew every note of la Donna. Olivieri had studied only his own part. Paer, in directing the rehearsals, had made himself thoroughly acquainted with all of them, and gave a significance to some portions of the music which had never been expressed or apprehended by his now defeated, routed, utterly confounded rival.

A SINGER'S INDISPOSITION.

At present comes the dark side of the picture. Olivieri, dangerously ill the night before, was perfectly well the next morning, and quite ready to resume his part in la Donna di genio volubile. Paer, on the other hand, was quite willing to give it up to him; but both reckoned without the military connoisseurs of Udine, and above all without Bernadotte, who arrived the day after Paer's great success, when all the officers of the staff were talking of nothing else. Olivieri was announced to appear in his old character; but when the bill was shown to the General, he declared that the original representative might go back to bed, for that the only buffo he would listen to was the illustrious Paer. In vain the director explained that the composer was not engaged as a singer, and that nothing but the sudden indisposition of Olivieri would have induced him to appear on the stage at all. Bernadotte swore he would have Paer, and no one else; and as the unfortunate impresario continued his objections, he was ordered into arrest, and informed that he should remain in prison until the maestro Paer undertook once more the part of "Pippo" in Portogallo's opera.

The General then sent a company of grenadiers to surround Paer's house; but the composer had heard of what had befallen the manager, and, foreseeing his own probable fate, if he remained openly in Udine, had concealed himself, and spread a report that he was in the country. Lancers and hussars were dispatched in search of him, but naturally without effect. In the supposed absence of Paer, the army was obliged to accept Olivieri; and when six or seven representations of the popular opera had taken place and the military public had become accustomed to Olivieri's performance of the part of "Pippo," Paer came forth from his hiding place and suffered no more from the warlike dilettanti-ism of Bernadotte.