The kernel of Bruneau's dramatic method lies in his ardent championing of realism as a guiding principle in general, and his admiration for Émile Zola as a man and as a literary artist in particular. With the exception of Kérim all his operas have been on subjects taken from Zola's works, or on texts by Zola himself. With the ideals of realism in mind, Bruneau has avoided legendary subjects, although many of his works are symbolic, and he has preferred to treat dramas of everyday life, animated by the passions of ordinary mortals. As Debussy reflected the impressionism or symbolism of poets, painters, and dramatists in his music, so Bruneau's operas are a counterpart of the realistic movement. In place, therefore, of the stilted, unreal action which disfigures even the finest conceptions of Wagner, Bruneau has sought to replace it with a lifelike, tense, and rapid simulation of life itself. His realism has even led to the discarding in his later operas of verse for prose from obvious realistic considerations. In spite of some Teutonic sources, Bruneau is eminently Gallic in his musical and dramatic standpoint, and, while certain formulas of his teacher, Massenet, persist for a time, in the main he is rigorously independent. For a time Bruneau was considered revolutionary in his harmonic standpoint, but musically at least he cannot be called iconoclastic, or even progressive. The strength of his achievement lies entirely in his qualities as a dramatist pure and simple.
The first work which embodied Bruneau's realistic attitude was Le Rêve (1891), text by Gallet after Zola's novel. The essence of the work dramatically lies in the mystical temperament of the heroine, Angélique, who loves the son of a priest (born before his father, a widower, entered the priesthood) despite the opposition of his father. When she is apparently dying the priest restores her by a miracle and consents to the marriage, only to have the bride fall lifeless as she leaves the church. While Bruneau's musical treatment of Angélique's mystical hallucinations is in a sentimental manner that recalls Massenet, the opera as a whole shows dramatic power of an independent character. Bruneau's second opera in his new style, L'Attaque du Moulin (1893), the dramatization by Gallet of a story by Zola in Les Soirées de Médan, dealing with an episode of the Franco-Prussian war, is far more vital both in drama and music. The mill, the source of life to the miller, Merlier, and his daughter Françoise, is attacked by the enemy. Dominique, a foreigner, who is betrothed to Françoise, is found with powder marks on his hands and is condemned to be shot. The enemy retreat, leaving a sentinel at the mill. The sentinel is assassinated and Merlier is to be shot for the deed. Although Dominique confesses that he did the deed, Merlier dies in his stead so that his daughter may be happy. Bruneau has been equally happy in delineating the peace which reigns at the mill before the arrival of the enemy and the celebration of Françoise's betrothal, and in depicting the brutalities of war and the unselfish death of Merlier. L'Attaque du Moulin is a work of solid inspiration, clarity of style and vivid dramatic force. The Institute of France awarded the Monbinne prize to its composer.
Messidor (1897), text by Zola himself, deals with the struggle between capital and labor and the love of the poor Guillaume for the capitalist's daughter Hélène. The capitalist is ruined, saner economic conditions are brought about and the lovers are united. For a drama which is both sociological and symbolistic Bruneau has written music of broadly humanitarian character and a vitally descriptive vigor. His musical style is firmer and his conceptions are realized with less crudeness than in previous works. L'Ouragan (1901), whose action turns upon a devastating hurricane in a fishing village, and also the tempestuous passions of its inhabitants, has a primitive quality characteristic of both author and composer. There is conscious symbolism in this work also in the distinction of types found in the three feminine characters. Of this opera Debussy wrote: 'He (Bruneau) has, among all musicians, a fine contempt for formulas, he walks across his harmonies without troubling himself as to their grammatical sonorous virtue; he perceives melodic associations that some would qualify too quickly as "monstrous" when they are simply unaccustomed.'[67]
L'Enfant roi (1905), Naïs Micoulin (1907), and La Faute de l'Abbé Mouret (1907) display qualities similar to Bruneau's other operas, in which close adjustment to the drama and consistent musical treatment are the notable features. Naïs Micoulin, text by Bruneau himself after Zola's novel, is particularly admirable for its clarity of style, its absence of mannerism, and its vital depiction of two types of jealousy and the faithful devotion of the hunchback, Toine.
Beyond his activity as a dramatic composer, especial mention should be made of Bruneau's work as a critic. He has contributed to many magazines, and he has acted as musical critic for the Gil Blas, Le Figaro, and Le Matin. He has collected three volumes of able criticism, Musiques d'hier et de demain (1900), La Musique Française (1901), containing much valuable historical material, and Musiques de Russie et Musiciens de France (1903). In these volumes he has shown himself a vigorous and broad critic of catholicity of taste and striking discrimination.
To sum up the dramatic work of Bruneau as a whole, he must be considered as representing a sincere phase of French evolution at a critical time. While it is questionable whether realism can be a permanently successful basis for opera, a form in which æsthetic compromise and illusion are inherent, there is no denying the courageous independence of his position and the plausible defense of his methods which his operas constitute. It must be confessed, however, that Bruneau's dramatic instinct takes precedence over his concrete musical gifts and the former carries off many scenes and episodes in which the latter lags behind. In short, Bruneau's gift for the stage is unquestionable, and his dramatic innovations must remain identified with French progress in this medium. His most obvious defect lies in the inequality of his musical inspiration. If his melodic sense is frank and spontaneous as in the prelude to Act I of L'Attaque du Moulin, the broad theme after the curtain rises in Act I of Messidor, the introduction and 'Sowing Song' in Act II of the same opera, the 'Song of the Earth' in Naïs Micoulin, the contour of Bruneau's melodies is, on the other hand, too often awkward and devoid of distinction. Likewise his thematic manipulation is lacking in flexibility or striking development, especially in the too obvious employment of the devices of 'augmentation' and 'diminution' (see L'Ouragan, prelude to Act I). Yet the allegorical Ballet of Gold in Act III of Messidor and the Introduction to Act IV of the same work show that Bruneau has sensibility toward symphonic qualities. Bruneau's harmonic idiom is rather monotonous and devoid of that subtle recognition of style that we find in the impressionistic school. On the other side, its wholesome vigor has the sincerity which is the hall-mark of realism. As a harmonist Bruneau is not advanced.
Despite the flaws that one can find in Bruneau the musician, they are perhaps after all the defects of his virtues. At a time of wavering and uncertainty, Bruneau showed uncompromising sincerity, stuck to his guns, defied opinion with a resolution and a reckless adherence to his æsthetic standpoint worthy of a friend of Zola. If his works have not the involuntary persuasion that we find in other ultra-modern French operas, one must acknowledge a preëminent dramatic gift, possessing in its presentation of sociological and humanistic problems vitality, high purpose and moments of indubitable inspiration. If Bruneau's musical defects hamper to a certain extent his wider recognition, his fearless independence, his utter contempt for imitation of others, and the remarkable dramatic affinity between his conceptions and those of Zola's are too striking not to be considered an interesting episode in French dramatic evolution.
While Bruneau's operas, apart from a few performances in London, Germany, and New York, have received attention chiefly in France, Gustave Charpentier, despite his relatively small productivity, has won a universal recognition.
Gustave Charpentier was born in the town of Dieuze in Lorraine, June 25, 1860. After the Franco-Prussian war his parents came to live in Tourcoing, not far from Lille. As a boy Charpentier showed natural aptitude for the violin, clarinet, and solfeggio, although he was obliged to work in a factory to support himself. His employer became so struck with his musical ability that he sent him to the Conservatory at Lille, where he obtained numerous prizes. As a result of this the municipality of Tourcoing granted him an annual pension of twelve hundred francs to study at the Paris Conservatory. In 1881 he began his work there as a pupil of Massart, the violinist. He was not successful in competition and, moreover, was obliged to leave to fulfill his military service. Returning to the Conservatory, he took up the study of harmony and later entered Massenet's class in composition. He was unsuccessful in a fugue competition, but in 1887 he received the first prix de Rome for his cantata Dido, which showed distinct dramatic gift and a concise and logical continuity of musical development.
From Rome he sent back as the required proofs of his industry an orchestral suite 'Impressions of Italy,' permeated with Italian atmosphere and folk-song, a symphony-drama, 'The Life of a Poet,' for solos, chorus and orchestra, which may be regarded as a precursor of his later dramatic work, and the first act of 'Louise.' This last was, however, not presented to the Institute, as that institution considered that 'The Life of a Poet' might count for two works.[68]