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

CHAPTER XVI
ROSSINI AND HIS PERIOD.

ROSSINI.

INNOVATORS in art, whether corrupters or improvers, are always sure to meet with opposition from a certain number of persons who have formed their tastes in some particular style which has long been a source of delight to them, and to interfere with which is to shock all their artistic sympathies. How often have we seen poets of one generation not ignored, but condemned and vilified by the critics and even by the poets themselves of the generation preceding it. Musicians seem to suffer even more than poets from this injustice of those who having contracted a special and narrow admiration for the works of their own particular epoch, will see no merit in the productions of any newer school that may arrive. Byron, Shelley, Keats, Tennyson have one and all been attacked, and their poetic merit denied by those who in several instances had given excellent proofs of their ability to appreciate poetry. Almost every distinguished composer of the last fifty years has met with the same fate, not always at the hands of the ignorant public, for it is this ignorant public with its naïve, uncritical admiration, which has sometimes been the first to do justice to the critic-reviled poets and composers, but at those of musicians and of educated amateurs. Ignorance, prejudice, malice, are the causes too often assigned for the non-appreciation of the artist of to-day by the art-lover, partly of to-day, but above all of yesterday. It should be remembered however, that there is a conservatism in taste as in politics, and that both have their advantages, though the lovers of noise and of revolution may be unable to see them; that the extension of the suffrage, the excessive use of imagery, the special cultivation of brilliant orchestral effects, may, in the eyes of many, really seem injurious to the true interests of government, poetry and music; finally that as in old age we find men still keeping more or less to the costumes of their prime, and as the man who during the best days of his life has habituated himself to drink port, does not suddenly acquire a taste for claret, or vice versâ,—so those who had accustomed their musical stomachs to the soft strains of Paisiello and Cimarosa, could not enjoy the sparkling, stimulating music of Rossini. So afterwards to the Rossinians, Donizetti poured forth nothing but what was insipid and frivolous; Bellini was languid and lackadaisical; Meyerbeer with his restlessness and violence, his new instruments, his drum songs, trumpet songs, fencing and pistol songs, tinder-box music, skating scenes and panoramic effects, was a noisy charlatan; Verdi, with his abruptness, his occasional vulgarity and his general melodramatic style, a mere musical Fitzball.

It most not be supposed, however, that I believe in the constant progress of art; that I look upon Meyerbeer as equal to Weber, or Weber as superior to Mozart. It is quite certain that Rossini has not been approached in facility, in richness of invention, in gaiety, in brilliancy, in constructiveness, or in true dramatic power by any of the Italian, French, or German theatrical composers who have succeeded him, though nearly all have imitated him one way or another: I will exclude Weber alone, an original genius, belonging entirely to Germany[80] and to himself. It is, at least, quite certain that Rossini is by far the greatest of the series of Italian composers, which begins with himself and seems to have ended with Verdi; and yet, while neither Verdi nor Bellini, nor Donizetti, were at all justly appreciated in this country when they first made their appearance, Rossini was—not merely sneered at and pooh-poohed; he was for a long time condemned and abused every where, and on the production of some of his finest works was hissed and hooted in the theatres of his native land. But the human heart is not so black as it is sometimes painted, and the Italian audiences who whistled and screeched at the Barber of Seville did so chiefly because they did not like it. It was not the sort of music which had hitherto given them pleasure, and therefore they were not pleased.

ROSSINI'S BIOGRAPHERS.

Rossini had already composed several operas for various Italian theatres (among which may be particularly mentioned L'Italiana in Algeri, written for Venice in 1813, the composer having then just attained his majority) when the Barbiere di Siviglia was produced at Rome for the Carnival of 1816. The singers were Vitarelli, Boticelli, Zamboni, Garcia and Mesdames Giorgi-Righetti, and Rossi. A number of different versions of the circumstances which attended, preceded, and followed the representation of this opera, have been published, but the account furnished by Madame Giorgi-Righetti, who introduced the music of Rossini to the world, is the one most to be relied upon and which I shall adopt. I may first of all remind the reader that a very interesting life of Rossini, written with great verve and spirit, full of acute observations, but also full of misstatements and errors of all kinds,[81] has been published by Stendhal, who was more than its translator, but not its author. Stendhal's "Vie de Rossini" is founded on a work by the Abbé Carpani. To what extent the ingenious author of the treatise De l'Amour, and of the admirable novel La Charteuse de Parme, is indebted to the Abbé, I cannot say; but if he borrowed from him his supposed facts, and his opinions as a musician, he owes him all the worst portion of his book. The brothers Escudier have also published a "Vie de Rossini," which is chiefly valuable for the list of his works, and the dates of their production.

THE BARBER OF SEVILLE.

To return to the Barber of Seville, of which the subject was librsuggested to Rossini by the author of the libretto, Sterbini. Sterbini proposed to arrange it for music in a new form; Rossini acquiesced, and the librettists went to work. The report was soon spread that Rossini was about to reset Paisiello's libretto. For this some accused Rossini of presumption, while others said that in taking Paisiello's subject he was behaving meanly and unjustly. This was absurd, for all Metastasio's lyrical dramas have been set to music by numbers of composers; but this fact was not likely to be taken into consideration by Rossini's enemies. Paisiello himself took part in the intrigues against the young composer, and wrote a letter from Naples, begging one of his friends at Rome to leave nothing undone that could contribute to the failure of the second Barber. When the night of representation, at the Argentina Theatre, arrived, Rossini's enemies were all at their posts, declaring openly what they hoped and intended should be the fate of the new opera. His friends, on the other hand, were not nearly so decided, remembering, as they did, the uncomplimentary manner in which Rossini's Torvaldo had been received only a short time before. The composer, says Madame Giorgi-Righetti "was weak enough to allow Garcia to sing beneath Rosina's balcony a Spanish melody of his own arrangement. Garcia maintained, that as the scene was in Spain the Spanish melody would give the drama an appropriate local colour; but, unfortunately, the artist who reasoned so well, and who was such an excellent singer, forgot to tune his guitar before appearing on the stage as "Almaviva." He began the operation in the presence of the public. A string broke. The vocalist proceeded to replace it; but before he could do so, laughter and hisses were heard from all parts of the house. The Spanish air, when Garcia was at last ready to sing it, did not please the Italian audience, and the pit listened to it just enough to be able to give an ironical imitation of it afterwards.

The introduction to Figaro's air seemed to be liked; but when Zamboni entered, with another guitar in his hand, a loud laugh was set up, and not a phrase of Largo al factotum was heard. When Rosina made her appearance in the balcony, the public were quite prepared to applaud Madame Giorgi-Righetti in an air which they thought they had a right to expect from her; but only hearing her utter a phrase which led to nothing, the expressions of disapprobation recommenced. The duet between "Almaviva" and "Figaro" was accompanied throughout with hissing and shouting. The fate of the work seemed now decided.

At length Rosina came on, and sang the cavatina which had so long been looked for. Madame Giorgi-Righetti was young, had a fresh beautiful voice, and was a great favourite with the Roman public. Three long rounds of applause followed the conclusion of her air, and gave some hope that the opera might yet be saved. Rossini, who was at the orchestral piano, bowed to the public, then turned towards the singer, and whispered "oh natura!"