Famous composers and their works, Vol. 3

by Unknown

The future author of “Castor and Pollux” was not yet eighteen years of age when he arrived in Milan. The works of the Italian composers then in vogue did not at all modify his taste, which was entirely the outcome of his own peculiar character. He heard the music of Scarlatti, Lotti, Duni, Caldara, Leo, and it caused him surprise rather than satisfaction. He remained but a short time in the capital of Lombardy, and did not continue his Italian excursion further than that point. He had but one desire, and that was to return to France. Chance having brought him into contact with a theatrical manager, who had come to Milan to get together an orchestra and an operatic troupe for a tour in the south of France, Rameau accepted an engagement as violinist. It was several years later when he returned to Dijon. Whether or not he sought the widow for whom he had felt such an affection history does not say. We are rather inclined to think that he did not see her again, as he remained at Dijon but a very short time. Henceforth, he patiently awaited the moment when he should be able to go to Paris, to sit at the feet of eminent masters who would perfect him in the art of composition.

Finally he left for the French capital, and arrived there in the course of the year 1717, being then about thirty-four years of age. It was very late to commence the study of an art of which he as yet only imperfectly understood the technique. Especially was it late to dream of attaining celebrity in theatrical music, access to which was always very difficult for unknown composers.

Rameau at last believed that he had found a protector and a professor who would be disposed to complete his musical education, in the person of the organist Marchand, who was held in great esteem in Paris. But Marchand at once detected the superior genius—although it was then in a latent state—of the Dijon musician, and under the influence of fear and jealousy he sent him away. He acted indeed in a most culpable manner towards Rameau and showed unjust partiality to others, as we shall see.

The position of organist at the Church of St. Paul becoming vacant, it was submitted to public competition. Rameau, being obliged to work to keep the pot boiling, presented himself as a competitor against one Daquin, who was an indifferent organist, and still more indifferent composer. Marchand was appointed judge of the competition. According to the testimony of all who were present at this interesting trial, Rameau stood forth immensely superior to Daquin. Nevertheless Marchand decided in favor of the latter, and consequently the position was given to him. After this check, Rameau was obliged to accept a place as organist at Lille. He left Paris regretfully; but his departure was a source of great satisfaction to Marchand, who feared his presence there.

Rameau did not remain long at Lille. He had a brother at Clermont, in Auvergne, who was a musician of some talent, and organist of the cathedral of that city. Wishing to retire, he offered Jean Philippe the position which he was leaving, and the place being a remunerative one, Rameau accepted. He was, however, to his deep regret, obliged to enter into an engagement for a certain number of years, for towards Paris his eyes were ever turned.

Situated in the midst of the mountains, the town of Clermont was at that time very little visited by strangers, and Rameau concentrated himself in his own personality. He wrote motets and pieces for the harpsichord. There, too, he reflected upon the natural laws governing the formation of chords, the theory of which had not then been expounded. After deep and continuous study—like Newton when he discovered the law of gravitation—Rameau at last discovered the secret of harmony. To him belongs the glory of being the first to formulate these laws, in his first work, of which we shall speak presently.

Four years had passed away, yet Rameau was bound to remain at Clermont for several years more, in accordance with the terms of his agreement; but he still saw Paris in his dreams, Paris, the only city where he could produce his compositions and his book on theory. He was, however, held in great esteem at Clermont, and in spite of his repeated attempts to cancel the agreement he was unable to do so. He then devised a plan by which he should be sent away from his church for reasons contrary to those which were advanced by the friends and admirers who desired him to remain there. They thought that he was an inspired organist and that his harmonies were of an elevated and powerful character. Rameau suddenly began to play on his noble instrument like an ignorant musician, destitute of ideas, bringing forth such discordant and frightful sounds that the clergy were scandalized and the faithful stopped their ears. Remonstrances were made to him. He answered that he could do no better; that it was in this wise that the noble art of the organist had been suddenly revealed to him, and that he should always play in this manner. He was accordingly dismissed and received his discharge with infinite joy. At the last service which he attended, when his successor sat by his side, he ceased his practical joking and played upon the organ in such a manner as to compel the admiration of all who heard it. He was determined that they should regret his departure, and he succeeded marvellously.

Thus Rameau returned to Paris, where, in the course of a short time, he published his treatise on harmony. But the subject was so novel and the explanations given by the author so abstruse that musicians failed to understand it. This, however, did not prevent them from speaking of it malevolently, with the naive and base assurance born of ignorance and vanity. Profoundly saddened but not discouraged by this result, he turned to composition for the renown which was not accorded to him as a theorist.

Rameau wrote with rare facility cantatas with choruses, sonatas, and other pieces for the harpsichord, which caused him to be regarded with great interest by the public. Pupils came to him and he obtained the position of organist at the church of Sainte-Croix-de-la-Bretonnerie. He would have been perfectly happy in this position, had he not yearned for a grander destiny, of which mention has already been made—success as a composer of grand opera.

To test his strength he made his debut in a small theatre, as the author of the scores for several pieces written by his fellow-Dijonais, the poet Piron, of happy memory, with songs and dance-tunes, which did not pass unnoticed. Then, resuming his labors on musical theory, he published his second book on the subject. This book, like the first, did not escape the malevolent criticism of ignorant persons; but this tended to spread abroad the name of the author, which came to be talked of in spite of the efforts made to keep it secret. Rameau’s instrumental music began to be sought after, and his pieces for the harpsichord were played everywhere. This result was not what he had hoped to attain: conscious of his superiority as a dramatic composer, his goal, as we know, was the Académie de Musique. He applied to the echoes of the neighborhood, that is to say, to all the lyric poets who had a reputation. These turned a deaf ear to his request, being fearful of collaborating at the debut (always an uncertain matter) of a composer in so difficult, so complex an art as lyric tragedy.