Famous composers and their works, Vol. 2

by Unknown

The first attempts of Mozart in dramatic composition do not call for special attention. They were in the conventional style of the day, and the librettos were wretched. Two of them "Bastien et Bastienne" and "La finta Giardiniera" were revived in Germany in 1892 and with considerable success. In the latter the characters are well defined; the melody is spontaneous; there is color; and the finales are well developed. But in "Idomeneo" (1781) we first see the peculiar dramatic genius of Mozart. There is still the formalism of the opera seria, but there are traces of the influence of French dramatic sincerity, and of his own artistic individuality. Jahn has described the opera as "the genuine Italian opera seria brought to its utmost perfection by Mozart's highly cultivated individuality." The chorus is brought into prominence; the instrumentation is richer than in contemporaneous works, and there are evidences of the study of Gluck, as in the accompaniment of three trombones and two horns in the proclaiming of the oracle of Neptune. That he was convinced at the time of the superiority of French taste in dramatic music, as in truth of diction and sincerity, is shown by the fact that he wished to bring it out in Vienna rearranged after the French model. And it may here be said that if Mozart in the formation of his song was strongly influenced by Italian spirit, he was also deeply impressed by the sense of proportion, that was characteristic of French opera of his day. Grétry had shown great art in the connecting of the operatic scenes, translating faithfully the spoken word into musical speech, and individualizing by musical means the creatures of the play. It was reserved for Mozart, the greater genius, to carry Grétry's theories farther and at the same time never lose sight of the musical expression. Méhul once said that Grétry made wit and not music; this reproach could not justly be made against Mozart, although he walked in the same path with the author of "Le Tableau parlant" and "Richard." In spite of both the French and Italian influences, there was much that was novel in the expression of the phrase, the variety of thematic development, and the modulation, harmony, and instrumentation. Its first performance was an epoch in the history of opera.

In the "Escape from the Seraglio" (1782) there was a still greater advance, and here is seen the beginning of what is now known as German opera. Mozart, while composing it, wrote his father at various times concerning his operatic creed. Quotations from these letters will perhaps best explain his theories: "A man who abandons himself to his anger, becomes extravagant and is no longer master of himself. If music paints anger, it must imitate its model; and however violent the passions may be they should never provoke disgust. Music ought never to wound the ear. Even in the most horrible situations it ought to satisfy the ear. Music should always remain music." Here it will be seen that he is with La Harpe and against Gluck. "Poetry in opera should be the obedient daughter of music. Why do the Italian operas, in spite of miserable texts, please everywhere, even in Paris? Because the music dominates as sovereign and everything else is accepted." Here again Mozart is directly opposed to Gluck; the former is the disciple of the Italian school; the latter faithful to the French theory. Perhaps, as Victor Wilder suggests, the truth is between the two extreme points; poetry and music in opera are necessarily in reciprocal independence, and each ought in turn to dominate the other, as the action hastens or is at a standstill. Gluck himself admitted that "the union between words and music should be so close that the poem seems as much made for the music as the music for the poem." Now Italian dramatic music was chiefly concerned with the whole effect of the poetical thought; the French was more concerned with the detail; the German was more allied to the symphony, and there was a more even balance between the vocal melody and the instrumental phrase. (It will be borne in mind that I speak of German opera as it existed before the theories and work of Richard Wagner.) As "Idomeneo" is distinguished by choral dignity and French frankness of dramatic expression, the "Escape from the Seraglio" is characterized by exquisite melody, by delightful ensemble, and by ingenious instrumentation. There is an exuberance, a freshness in this opera, that led von Weber to affirm that here Mozart had reached "the full maturity of his powers as an artist, and that his further progress after that was only in knowledge of the world." It would be an interesting task to show the growth of Mozart's dramatic genius as seen in this glorification of the old German Singspiel; the characterization of the different parts by musical means. His letters to his father show the pains he took in the instrumentation, now seeking with triangle, big drum and cymbals Turkish effects, now emphasizing the sighs of Belmont with muted strings and the flute.

Rossini once said that his "Barbiere" was an opera buffa, while Mozart in "Le Nozze di Figaro" gave the model of the dramma giocoso: a fine distinction, worthy of the shrewdness of the author. This Italian adaptation of a French comedy set to music by a German differs from the accepted form of opera buffa, in the development of the plot and the delineation of character. The opera is at once dramatic, comic and musical, not merely a bundle of comic situations and gross caricature with incidental music. Rossini's "Barbiere," a masterpiece for all time, is undoubtedly the truer reflection of the spirit of Beaumarchais; for Mozart has idealized the intrigues and characters of the play. The libretto of da Ponte is admirable in spite of the omission of the political satire that perhaps justifies the immorality of the play. In this opera the musical character-drawing is most cunning. Susanna and Marcellina are jealous, but how different is their common jealousy from the noble jealousy of the Countess. Rossini has drawn the Countess in her youth and made her a mischievous and rebellious child. Mozart finds her a loving and abused wife, who does not encourage the page's advances, but, suffering, yet not without hope, seeks to win back her husband's love. In Susanna's passion there is a tinge of sensuality, but the music given her by Mozart is nobly sensuous. And so her merriment, her teasing, her caprices are all fitly expressed. The Cherubino of Beaumarchais is a wanton youth who looks with amorous eye upon all women; but his fever is turned into absorbing and trembling love when he is in the presence of Mozart's Countess. So too the men are carefully distinguished. The music given to each one of the characters can not be mistaken; it surrounds each like an atmosphere. This characterization is clearly seen in the masterly finales. Take the eight movements, each distinct in design, that form the finale of the second act. Succeeding complications as the number of persons in the action increases; different emotions, as jealousy, merriment, anger, forgiveness; the entrance and denunciation of the drunken gardener; the arrival of Marcellina and her confederates; all these seemingly opposing elements are firmly bound together and knit into an harmonious whole that constantly increases in dramatic and musical strength. The other great finale, a succession of misunderstandings and surprises is almost equally remarkable, and the sextet, which according to Kelly was Mozart's favorite piece in the whole opera, is not far below it. All these ensemble numbers are at the same time so skilfully constructed that there is an appearance of utter freedom of dramatic action. No words can give an idea of the wealth of melody, a wealth that is prodigally squandered, and yet this melody enhances the dramatic truth and does not stifle it. The instrumentation is always appropriate to the scenic effect. It supplements the voice. Whenever the same subject is used in a great number of recitatives, there is an astonishing variety of instrumental expression. It is said that Mozart's contemporaries were particularly struck by his employment of wind instruments, as in the accompaniment to Cherubino's romanze and air. And yet how simple the means; how meager the resources would seem to young composers of to-day who even in comic operas feel obliged to use the trombones and drums for the accompaniment of the slightest recitative. In this opera the orchestra takes its rightful place, it does not seek to dominate. It is always conscious of the action on the stage, but it is not envious; it gladly assists, and strengthens the impression. Its tone-colors aid in the distinguishing of the characters. And above all, in the orchestra as well as on the stage, there is ever present the sense of dramatic truth and unerring instinct in the expression of it.

The libretto of "Don Giovanni" has been often censured, and without real justice; for nearly all the feelings of humanity are expressed by the characters. The supernatural, the vulgar, tragedy and comedy are mixed together; even in the scene where the rake-helly hero plunges into eternal flames, the element of farce is present. Beethoven, it is true, thought the subject a scandalous one, unworthy of musical treatment; but it was admirably adapted to the dramatic temperament of Mozart. "Don Giovanni is a temperament of flame and fire that has no time for monologues; he acts; it is life without shackles, without curb, flowing as the lava of a volcano, which destroys everything in its path."

The various scenes, the conflicting passions, are marvellously reproduced in the music of Mozart. From the very opening where Leporello keeps impatient watch to the unearthly scene between the Statue and the libertine, there is an unceasing flow of exquisite melody that is not only appropriate to the characters and the action, but is also the fullest and most complete expression of the plot and incidents. Berlioz objected to the florid air sung by Donna Anna, on the ground that it was not essentially dramatic; but there have been singers who could express passion in a roulade and sway the hearer by a trill; such is the power of personal conviction. It is true that the last finale is an anti-climax. The interest ceases with the punishment of the hero, and although attempts have been made to give the opera with this finale, they have not been successful; and the curtain rightly falls with the descent of Don Giovanni. To speak in detail of the myriad beauties of this masterpiece would be simply to analyze the score measure by measure. Its immortal melodies are known throughout the world. Musicians of all schools have vied with men eminent in the other walks of life in the most extravagant eulogy. In this opera is seen the universality of Mozart's genius. His knowledge of humanity, his sympathy with all classes and conditions of men. It is the most realistic of his works; it is at the same time the most ideal. Not without reason did Goethe pass over Cherubini and von Weber, Auber and Rossini, Beethoven and the rest, and say that Mozart was the one who should have set his Faust to music. Not without reason did he mention him with Shakespeare.

"Cosi fan tutte" and "La Clemenza di Tito" were written hurriedly. Neither is an advance in the career of the composer. The first is a return to the old-fashioned opera buffa; the second looks longingly towards the ancient opera seria. The plot of the former is vulgar, improbable and stupid; and that of the latter is extremely dull. The music of "Cosi fan tutte" is often delightful, as in the famous quintet, the second terzet; but there is not the same degree of psychological characterization found in his three great operas; and there are many concessions to popular taste. "La Clemenza di Tito" belongs to that class of compositions described by the French as grandes machines officielles. The finale is worthy of Mozart; but as a whole the opera is inferior to "Idomeneo" even in the instrumentation.

When Schikaneder learned that Marinelli, a rival manager, also thought of putting on the stage a fairy drama made out of Wieland's "Lulu," he changed the plot of his "Magic flute" and substituted for the evil genius of the play the high priest Sarastro, who appears to be custodian of the secrets and the executor of the wishes of the masonic order. The libretto has been ruthlessly condemned by many for its obscurity, absurdity, triviality and buffoonery. Certain writers, however, have found a deep and symbolical meaning in the most frivolous dialogue and even in the music of the overture. Some have gone so far as to regard the opera as a symbolical representation of the French Revolution: with the Queen of Night as the incarnation of royalty; Pamina as Liberty, for whom Tamino, the People, burns with passionate love; Sarastro as the Wisdom of the Legislature. Others have claimed that no one who was not a Freemason could appreciate the merits of the libretto at their true value. Now, Mozart himself saw nothing in the text but the story of a magic opera. Goethe and Hegel were equally blind. The former once wrote of the text that "the author understood perfectly the art of producing great theatrical effects by contrasts," and Hegel praised the libretto highly for its mixture of the supernatural and the common, for its episodes of the initiations and the tests. Rubinstein likes the variety: "pathetic, fantastic, lyric, comic, naive, romantic, dramatic, tragic, yes, it would be hard to find an expression that is wanting in it. It is evident the genius of a Mozart was required to reproduce it all musically, as he has done; but such texts might incite less genial composers to interesting work." But who in listening to the music heeds Tamino pursued by the snake, the gloomy Queen, or the vengeance of the Moor? Who is disquieted by the padlock or the glockenspiel? He listens to the overture and forgets the "prodigious complexity" in "its clearness, fascination and irresistible effect," and he says with Saint Saëns, "it is a tour de force which Mozart only could have accomplished." He laughs with Papageno; he woos with Tamino; he is initiated into the solemn mysteries. He does not understand the plot; he does not desire to understand it; for his mind and his senses are soothed by the continual and varied melody. As regards the instrumentation Jahn has condensed all criticism into this one sentence: "It is the point of departure for all that modern music has achieved in this direction." Nor can the influence which the opera has exerted in the formation of German music be overrated. For the first time all the resources of great genius were brought to bear upon a genuine German opera. No one has summed up so tersely and so fully the operatic genius of Mozart as Rubinstein: "Gluck had achieved great things in the opera before him; yes, opened new paths, but in comparison with Mozart he is, so to say, of stone. Besides, Mozart has the merit of having removed the opera from the icy pathos of mythology into real life, into the purely human, and from the Italian to the German language, and thereby to a national path. The most remarkable feature of his operas is the musical characteristic he has given to every figure, so that each acting personage has become an immortal type. That which he has made, he alone could make: a god-like creation, all flooded with light. In hearing Mozart I always wish to exclaim: 'Eternal sunshine in music, thy name is Mozart!'"

Mozart once said in regard to his lesser works, "Woe to the man that judges me by these trifles." But the skill in instrumentation, the heaven-born song, the spontaneity of counterpoint, and the exquisite sense of proportion are often displayed in the serenades and divertimenti. And in these qualities of art he still reigns supreme. It is true that he founded no school in the narrow sense of the word; but he smoothed the path for Beethoven; and without him the noble line in direct succession would have been of later birth. It is idle, and yet it is common in these days, to compare a composer of one generation, or even of a century, with the composer of earlier or later years. Music itself is in a measure the expression of its time. When counterpoint was regarded as the only medium of music, the opera itself was stiffened by its contrapuntal dress, and religion could only find vent in a fugue. When the singer waxed arrogant, music existed only for his vain glory. Now we are taught to believe that absolute music, music that does not "paint" or "personate" or follow a "program," is of little account; that unless it puts in clearer light some poetical thought or some determined emotion or natural phenomenon, it is worthless; that music is not merely the vehicle of musical thought, but is rather a means of expressing many ideas that might be better expressed in poetry, in prose, or on the canvas. So the times change and with them the fashions in art of every species. There is then perhaps no greatest composer. Plutarchian comparisons between the men of different centuries are of little avail in determining true values. A man must be judged by the conditions of his own time and compared with the men who worked by his side. And what compositions of Mozart's day, instrumental or operatic, have stood the test of the revenger Time? Even the mighty Gluck with his noble theories and statuesque music has bowed the knee to the younger rival. Figaro and Papageno and the dissolute Don Juan Tenorio y Salazar live to-day upon the stage; they are as familiar as the characters of the Old Testament; as Robinson Crusoe or Don Quixote; they are immortalized by the genius of the music-maker of Vienna. It may be said without exaggeration that no composer began his work with such a natural endowment; that Nature created him the greatest musician. His dear friend Haydn, a man not given to vain compliments, a man of hard sense, declared that posterity would not see such talent as his for the next hundred years. And Rossini at the height of his glory, conscious of his own prodigious natural gifts, pronounced the final judgment so far as this century is concerned: "He is the greatest, he is the master of us all. He is the only one whose genius was as great as his knowledge, and whose knowledge equalled his genius."