Instead of the shrinking figure of the fairy-tale, Ariane is a representative of the feminist movement, if not almost a militant suffragette, who flatly disobeys Bluebeard, opens all the forbidden doors to deck herself with jewels, releases her captive sisters, helps them to free Bluebeard when the infuriated peasants have attacked and bound him, and then returns to her home, leaving her infatuated sisters who have too little imagination to make a decision. Dukas has treated this story in a style that at once admits a coherent and almost symphonic development of motives, and employs a harmonic idiom that profits by all that Debussy has done to extend the whole-tone scale. Dukas does not employ this scale as Debussy has done, but it is obvious that he never would have gone so far if it had not been for his pioneer contemporary. Instead of the translucent orchestra of Pelléas, Dukas has employed one that is appropriately far more robust, but which he has nevertheless used with discretion and reserve. He has taken advantage of the discovery of the jewels in the first act to employ coloristic resources lavishly. Despite the complex obligations in the matter of style, Dukas has produced music of a spontaneously decorative and dramatic type, which makes this opera significant among the works of recent years. While Ariane is unequal, the first scene, excellently worked-out ensemble, the close of the first act, the introduction and first scene of the second, and the close of the work cannot be effaced from the records of modern French opera.
In 1910, Dukas had another success with his poëme dansant, La Péri, on a scenario of his own, which has been exquisitely interpreted by Mlle. Trouhanova, to whom it is dedicated. Here is a work of the ballet type, which unites felicitously a sense of structure with a gift for atmospheric interpretation. In this respect, La Péri is one of the most satisfactory of Dukas' works, and one in which his encyclopedic knowledge and his imaginative gifts are best displayed.
In addition to his gifts as a composer, Dukas is an editor and critic of distinction. He has retouched some concertos for violin and clavecin by Couperin; he has revised Les Indes galantes, La Princesse de Navarre and Zephyre by Rameau for the complete edition of that master's works. He made a four-hand arrangement of Saint-Saëns' Samson et Dalila, and together with that distinguished composer finished and orchestrated Fredegonde, an opera left incomplete by Guiraud at his death. In addition, Dukas' articles for the Revue Hebdomadaire and the Gazette des Beaux Arts display erudition and the clairvoyant judgment of the born critic.
Thus, although attaching himself to no one group exclusively, Dukas has, by his capacity for architectural treatment of instrumental forms and his atmospheric gift in dramatic characterization, attained a position of dignity and individual expression.
V
It is not within the province of this chapter to be all-inclusive, but merely to recognize the achievement of the more notable figures. In consequence a brief mention of some composers of lesser stature, and a slight enlargement upon two of the more distinguished, will suffice to account for present-day activity. There are, however, two precursors of modern French music, who from the circumstances of their lives and talent have not reached the fruition which they might have deserved. The first of these, Ernest Fanelli, for thirty years lived the life of an obscure and impoverished musician, playing the triangle in a small orchestra, accompanying at cafés, laboring as a copyist. By mere chance, Gabriel Pierné discovered in 1912 an orchestral work, the first part Thebes, a symphonic poem founded on Théophile Gautier's Roman de la Mome, composed 1883-87. The music was found to have anticipated many harmonic effects of a later idiom including a fairly developed whole-tone system. Other works like the Impressions Pastorales (1890), some Humoresques and a quintet for strings entitled L'Ane show their composer to have poetic and descriptive gifts, whose late revelation is not without pathos. Fanelli can exert no historical influence, but he remains an isolated and belated phenomenon whose temporary vogue is doubtless likely soon to suffer eclipse.
Erik Satie, whose name has been mentioned in connection with Maurice Ravel, and who doubtless was not unsympathetic to Debussy since he orchestrated two of his Gymnopédies, was born in 1866 and studied for a time at the Paris Conservatory. But an examination of his music would prognosticate his distaste for that academic institution. He was influenced by the pre-Raphaelites, and by the Salon de la Rose Croix and by the mystical movement in literature generally. His music, chiefly for piano, wavers between an elevated and symbolic mysticism and an ironic and over-strained impressionism. Regarded for years as an eccentric poseur with some admixture of the charlatan, it must now be recognized that he had glimmerings of a modern harmonic idiom and subjective expression in some of its aspects before the generality of modern Parisian musicians. But these qualities were hampered in their development by the ultra-fantastic character of his ideas, and an incapacity for a coherent development of them. He abhors the tyranny of the barline, and many of his pieces have no rhythmical indication from one end to the other, beyond the relative value of the notes. He is also loath to employ cadences, a prophetic glimpse of the future.
Among his earlier works, the Sarabandes (1887), Gymnopédies (1888), incidental music for a drama by Sar Peladan, Le Fils des Étoiles (1891), Sonneries de la Rose Croix (1892), Uspud, a 'Christian ballet' with one character (1892), Pièces froides (1897) and Morceaux en forme de poire (1903), by their titles alone indicate the character of their musical substance. The Gymnopédies and the Sonneries de la Rose Croix are interesting for their absence of the commonplace and for suggestions of a poetic vein. The later works dating from 1912 and 1913 have fantastic titles which awake the curiosity only to disappoint it by the contents of the music. Aperçus désagréable, Descriptions automatiques, Chapitres tournés en tous sens seem deliberately contrived to affront the unwary, and cannot lay claim to any influence beyond their perverse humor, and occassional ironic caricature as in Celle qui parle trop, Danse maigre and Españana.
Among the many contributors toward the upbuilding of modern French music one must recall the names of Gabriel Pierné for his piano concerto, a symphonic poem for chorus and orchestra, L'An mil, the operas Vendée, La Fille de Tabarin (1900), the choral works La Croisade des Enfants (1903) and Les Enfants de Bethlehem (1907); Deodat de Sévérac for his piano suites Le Chant de la Terre (1900) and En Languedoc (1904), the operas Cœur du Moulin (1909) and Heliogabale (1910); Gustave Samazeuilh for his string quartet, a sonata for violin and piano, the orchestral pieces Étude Symphonique d'après 'la Nef' and Le Sommeil de Canope; Isaac Albéniz, although of Spanish birth associated with French composers;[70] Roger-Ducasse for orchestral works, a 'mimodrame' Orphée, Louis Aubert for a Fantasie for piano and orchestra, songs, a Suite brêve for orchestra and the opera La Forêt bleue. In addition the names of Chevillard, Busser, Ladmirault, Henri Rabaud, André Messager,[71] Labey, Casella, and others might be added. A figure of some solitary distinction is Alberic Magnard (died 1914), whose operas Yolande, Guercœur and Bérénice, three symphonies and other orchestral works, chamber music, piano pieces and songs, show him to be a serious musician who disdained popularity. Associated with the Schola he partook of d'Indy's artistic stimulus without losing his own individuality.