Neither the orchestras of Lamoureux nor of Colonne can be excelled in smooth and velvet-toned string playing, or in the purity, the sympathy, and at times the pathos that distinguish the quality of the wood-wind instruments. In French orchestras, however, the brass does not always possess that solidity and richness found in representative German orchestras. This defect may be due to the retention of at least one alto trombone, whereas the Germans now use either three tenor trombones, or two tenor and one bass. The bass-tubas also are frequently too light and small. Particularly in some renditions of Wagnerian works is the undue prominence of inadequately balanced brass occasionally noticeable. Finally, the metallic quality of the kettle-drums, which effects the coloring of the entire orchestra, sounds foreign to ears accustomed to instruments of less pronounced incisiveness. These criticisms are equally pertinent to Italian orchestras, but do not appear to be objectionable to the composers of either France or Italy. In a word, therefore, the performance of French orchestras displays a marvel of refinement and finish even to the minutest of details, but lacks ideal balance and fulness in loud ensemble passages.
Such is the story of French musical progression during the nineteenth century! Though she inaugurated no such reforms as those that signalize the "Sturm und Drang" period in Germany, France has a record to show that is indeed an enviable one. Formerly surpassed by the parent of Romance nations—Italy, France has in recent years left that country far behind in matters both artistic and musical. For half a century Italy has now been represented by but one luminary of the first magnitude. Conspicuous in his solitary grandeur, this versatile hero has captivated in turn the hearts of all peoples, whether Latin, Germanic, or Anglo-Saxon. In every clime is the name chosen for our following discourse a familiar household word,—the name of that wonderful melodist, Verdi.
ITALY.
VII.
The last extended reference to Italian music is to be found in [Chapter VIII], which treats of the contemporaries of Beethoven. Those pages call attention to Spontini's historic grand opera, to Rossini's seductive charm, and to the "mellifluous fabrications of Donizetti and Bellini with which undramatic productions must be classed also the earlier works of Verdi in consequence of their voluptuous melodic exuberance."
Verdi (1813-1901) exhibits in the development of his creative power a series of progressive stages that are in some respects analogous to Wagner's evolutionary periods. Just as Wagner's operas and music dramas can be separated into three general groups, so may Verdi's productions be subjected to similar analytical treatment. It will be remembered, however, that the orchestration of Wagner necessitated a second independent classification which partially ignores the æsthetic and philosophical aspect of subject-matter. With Verdi, on the other hand, dramatic style, musical treatment and orchestration matured simultaneously and gradually.
There is no call to refer to works anteceding "Nabucco," which launched Verdi on his unprecedented career. The first group may therefore include such operas as "Nabucco," "I Lombardi," and "Ernani." The sole claim to merit that these works can offer is in their wealth of melody, further enhanced by considerable rhythmic variety. Displaying closer resemblance to Meyerbeer's style than to il bel canto of Rossini, they further embody reminiscences of Bellini, and their favorable reception may have been aided by these very reminiscences. From an artistic standpoint they contain little worthy of commendation. They lack depth of feeling, whereas both form and instrumentation are conventional and commonplace. Orchestral color depends largely upon violent and frequently illogical dynamic contrasts.
Typical of the second group are "Rigoletto," "La Traviata," and "Il Trovatore." A further division might have been made in consequence of the superiority of "Il Trovatore" over "Rigoletto." Such exact distinctions, however, do not seem necessary in this discussion. These works show more earnest search for truthful and impressive expression, greater harmonic variety, and freer treatment of the inner and lower parts. The dramatic effects are of an intensity rarely surpassed. The music is, however, not only passionate but violent, and the tonal effects often suggest unnecessary noise rather than satisfying sonority. As Ferris expresses it: "Verdi storms the ear and captivates the senses, but does not subdue the soul." "Rigoletto" shows increased regard for judicious orchestration and that particularly in the deployment of the wood-wind. The scoring of "La Traviata" is picturesque and consistent. "Il Trovatore" presents passionate outbursts of feeling, a certain striving after effects, whereas the instrumentation reflects in its not infrequent coarseness the brutal tendencies of the subject-matter itself. As a whole, however, the orchestration possesses more independence and richer tonal variety than that of Verdi's preceding works.
The third and last group is comprised of the "Manzoni Requiem," the operas "Aïda," "Othello," and the lyric drama "Falstaff." The last named might almost be classified by itself, representing as it does the extreme phase of Verdi's involuntary adaptation of Teutonic dogmas both ancient and modern. In spite of his obvious intention to make this his masterpiece, it presents a line of departure not suited to his most felicitous style of writing. However, this dramma lirico has borne fruit in so far as to be a source of inspiration to Puccini, Mascagni and Leoncavallo, although their effusions take the form of "tragic operettas." In spite of the display of virile power in "Falstaff," Verdi reached his highest development in the orchestration of the Requiem, in the musical contents of "Aïda," and in the dramatic continuity of "Othello." In all these later works one finds unquestionable evidence of Wagnerian influence, at the least in respect to externals. Notwithstanding Verdi's repudiation of any such intentions, no composer surrounded by the spirit of the times could do other than progress. The most noticeable improvements in the third group consist of freer use of the dissonant element, better declamation, higher regard for faithful interpretation, painstaking finish of minor details, and above all an extreme advance in the art of instrumentation. The functions of the orchestra become more and more important, and the tonal colors acquire a richer and warmer hue. The scoring of the Requiem is dignified, religious, yet emotional. That of "Aïda" breathes the very atmosphere of its Egyptian setting. In "Othello," the orchestration is essentially dramatic and impassioned. "Falstaff" accepts the fundamental principles of Gluck, and the orchestra is raised to prominence equal to that of the voices. As a result of this concession, Verdi found Wagner's orchestral resources indispensable to his needs, and the resultant modern effects are a pleasant surprise. The vocal parts and the orchestra are here logically balanced, though Verdi's marvellous gift as a writer of pure and limpid melody continues in evidence.
With the evolution of this third period was instituted one of the mightiest transformations in the history of Italian opera. That country has as yet been unable to replace him. The efforts of Ponchielli, Gomez, Boïto, Sgambati, Buonamici, Puccini, are certainly praiseworthy, but sink into insignificance when compared with the splendid attainments of their venerable and venerated model. As to the rocket-like ascent and descent of Mascagni together with the present notoriety of Leoncavallo, time alone will decide whether the path they have chosen be meritorious or meretricious.