As the dramatic attraction of 'Louise' resides in its simplicity, so also its musical value resides in its continuous spontaneity, its limpidity of style, devoid of all pretentious scholasticism, in which, however, there is plenty of technical skill and unostentatious mastery of material. Charpentier's dramatic and musical idiom follows the conception of Massenet, in which the constituent elements are balanced, without superfluous insistence upon either. He employs formal lyricism, except when the situation demands it, uses a flowing and melodic declamation which gives free play to the annunciation of the text. He employs motives freely, not in the Wagnerian fashion, however, but in their flexible manipulation succeeds in giving the needful touches of detailed characterization. If his orchestral sonority verges occasionally upon coarseness, as a whole it enhances and colors the dramatic emotions with remarkable skill and poetic fancy.
But, aside from the question of dramatic method, it is the freshness of invention, the skill in characterization, and the ebullient musical imaginativeness of 'Louise' which makes it so unusual among operas. It is more accurate and illusive in its picture of Bohemianism than Puccini's La Bohème, and possesses far more human depth and emotional sincerity throughout. In this respect also it is far above the generality of Massenet's operas, and may be compared, despite their essential difference in musical individuality, to the operas of Bruneau. Charpentier is more of a poet, and his musical invention is far readier. While it may be needless to particularize the domestic scenes in the first act; the prelude to the second act, 'The City Awakens,' with the scene before the dawn in which the rag-pickers, the coal-gleaners, and other characters of the night-world discuss of life as they have found it; the second scene in the same act, the dressmaker's workshop, with an orchestral part for the sewing machine, in which the sewers converse idly and try to account for Louise's moodiness, the whole first tableau of the third act, in which Julien and Louise sing of the lure of Paris; Louise's scene with her father in the fourth act, all these are concrete examples of the interpretative power of Charpentier the dramatist and composer.
It is difficult to be enthusiastic over Julien. If the hero justifies the opposition of Louise's parents (for the story of 'The Life of a Poet' forms its dramatic basis), the introduction of many allegorical or symbolic episodes not only mars the continuity of the drama, but their musical style offends by its difference from that of the music of 'The Life of a Poet,' upon which Charpentier has drawn so freely for the later opera. While in many instances Charpentier has shown ingenuity in adapting his earlier music, the total result of his labors has not only been disappointing but disillusionizing in the extreme.
As a whole, Charpentier, the poet of 'Impressions of Italy,' the crude but forceful dramatist of the 'Poet's Life,' the mature artist of 'Louise,' has accomplished certain unique aspects of realism with a symbolic or sociological undercurrent. Limited as he is to 'the quarter,' he has been also universal, and his sincere and picturesque vision has something of permanence. As a pupil of Massenet he does not belong to the vanguard, but his plausible synthesis of seemingly contradictory elements has left a permanent impress in the annals of modern French music.
IV
While categorical classification is not always essential in criticism, it is somewhat discommoding to acknowledge that a composer cannot conveniently be placed under one logical and comprehensive heading. While assimilation of qualities peculiar to two opposing groups can be unified to a considerable extent, the work of such an artist is inevitably lacking in complete homogeneity. Such a figure is Dukas, who, nevertheless, must be considered a force of considerable vitality in present-day French music.
Paul Dukas was born in Paris, October 1, 1865. Toward his fourteenth year his musical gifts asserted themselves. In 1881, after some preliminary study, he entered the Paris Conservatory, where he was a pupil of Mathias (piano), Dubois (harmony), and Guiraud (composition). In 1888 he was awarded the second prix de Rome for his cantata Valleda. Since he was passed over entirely in the competition of the following year, he left the Conservatory and fulfilled his military service. At this period he had composed three overtures, of which the last, Polyeucte, alone has been published and performed. In his Cours de Composition,[69] d'Indy discloses that Dukas was ill-satisfied with the instruction he received at the Conservatory, and that he subsequently made a profound study of the classics and evolved his own technical idiom. Dukas, however, shows the effect of two schools, that of Franck in much of his instrumental music, and a sympathy with that of Debussy in the dramatic field. To acknowledge this does not mean to tax him with lack of individuality, but merely to recognize the confluence of opposing viewpoints.
The overture Polyeucte (1891) shows surprising command for so young a man of the technique of composition and orchestration, although unnecessarily elaborate in the former particular. It has the classic dignity of Corneille and at the same time is sincerely dramatic. The Symphony in C (1895-96) shows considerable progress in many respects: clearer part writing, unpretentious yet logical construction, no apparent ambition other than to write sincerely within the limits of normal symphonic style. There is also marked advance in clarity and brilliance in the orchestral style. In 1897 Dukas made a pronounced hit with his fantastic and imaginative Scherzo, L'Apprenti sorcier, after Goethe's ballad, first performed at a concert of the National Society. This work is one of the landmarks of modern French music for its elastic fluency of style, the descriptive imagery of its music, and, above all, its personal note, in which the orchestra was treated with dazzling mastery.
A Sonata for piano (1899-1900) forsakes the vein of programmistic tour de force entirely and exhibits a dignified, almost classic, style whose workmanship is admirable throughout. The theme of the first movement is distinguished, the second less interesting until it appears in the recapitulation with deft canonic imitation. The slow movement is somewhat cold and lacking in inner sentiment; the scherzo is individual, and the finale solid. Similarly the 'Variations, Interlude and Finale,' on a theme by Rameau, for piano (1902), is not only composed with similar preoccupation for thorough workmanship, but its spirit, save for some ever-present harmonic boldness, seems to have proceeded from the epoch of the theme. As a matter of fact, these variations show a post-Beethovenian ingenuity, and genuine skill in perceiving the gracious theme of Rameau in different and engaging lights that make this work conspicuous among piano literature in modern French music. But this music is strongly suggestive of d'Indy and the Schola. A Villanelle for horn and piano (1906) is a charming piece which achieves individuality despite the limitations of the horn.
But when Dukas' music for Maeterlinck's Ariane et Barbe Bleue (1907) was performed May 10, 1907, after he had begun and rejected 'Horn and Riemenhild' (1892) and 'The Tree of Science' (1899), a greater surprise was in store than upon the occasion when L'Apprenti Sorcier was played for the first time.