Name other important French composers.
What is the character of some of the works of the advanced school of composition?
Pietro Mascagni. Giacomo Puccini.
G. Sgambati.
Abbé Perosi. Enrico Bossi.
LESSON LIII.
Musical Regeneration in Italy.
Musical Decadence.—When a nation clings to its own musical ideas, and persistently disregards the growth and progress of other nations, it usually enters upon a period of decay. This is what took place in Italy during the 19th century, and the country that produced Palestrina and the Scarlattis seemed for a time to understand nothing but the trivial operatic melodies of Rossini’s successors. In 1850, there were scarcely any concert halls in the country, and even the churches were content with operatic airs set to sacred words. Soon after this, Pinelli tried to give an orchestral concert, with sixty musicians; and the box-office receipts left only fourteen francs with which to pay them. Sgambati produced a Beethoven symphony, but had to do it at his own expense. As late as 1879, Saint-Saëns, who gave an organ recital at Milan, found the organ scarcely fit for an artist to play upon. In opera, it was only the broad judgment of Verdi that was able to look beyond the borders of his native land, and his “Aïda,” as well as Boïto’s “Mefistofele,” was the beginning of a new order of things.
Mascagni.—In 1890, the publisher Sonzogno offered a prize for the best one-act opera submitted to him, and this prize was awarded to Pietro Mascagni (Leghorn, Italy, 1863), then an unimportant musical leader at Cerignola. Mascagni was the son of a baker, who wished him to study law, and locked him up because he practiced the piano in secret. The boy was rescued by his uncle, and under the protection of Count Florestan pursued his studies at the Milan Conservatory. The opera that brought him such fame, which has since become world-wide, was “Cavalleria Rusticana,” or “Rustic Chivalry,” based on a tale by Verga. The scene is a village square, before a church. The heroine, Santuzza, is forsaken by Turiddu, who carries on an intrigue with Lola, wife of the carter Alfio. Santuzza, in despair, denounces him to Alfio, who challenges and kills him. The music is hardly of the highest standard; but it is popular and vigorous in style, and intensely powerful. The work is scarcely comparable to the music-dramas, yet every number is animated by the spirit of the words, and it is therefore dramatically true. Among the many favorite selections from its score are the “Siciliana” of Turiddu (sung as part of the overture, before the curtain rises), the broad and noble “Regina Coeli,” Lola’s serenely confident aria, “My King of Roses,” and the jolly “Brindisi,” or drinking chorus, to say nothing of the saccharine “Intermezzo.” The power and vividness of “Rustic Chivalry” made it an epoch-making work; but Mascagni’s later operas have not met with the same success. They include “L’Amico Fritz,” “William Ratcliff,” “Silvano,” “Iris,” “Le Maschere,” and the one-act “Amica.”
Leoncavallo.—The success of “Rustic Chivalry” aroused Ruggiero Leoncavallo (Naples, Italy, 1858) to try his hand in the same school. His early opera “Chatterton” was practically a failure, while his ambitious “Medici” trilogy (“I Medici,” “Savonarola,” and “Cesare Borgia”) met with no better reception. In “I Pagliacci,” however, he produced a work of the new school, that has taken its place beside Mascagni’s opera as an example of the new realism. The “Pagliacci” are strolling players. Canio, the leader, is aroused to madness by learning of the proposed elopement of his wife, Nedda, but she will not betray her lover’s name. They enact for the villagers a mimic tragedy of love and jealousy, but Canio makes it real by actually stabbing the faithless Nedda. Her lover then leaps from the audience to save her, only to meet a similar death at Canio’s hands. The music to this play is of a higher standard than Mascagni’s, though less directly popular in style. “Trilby” and “Zaza” are later works of little importance, while “Roland of Berlin,” composed by order for a libretto by the Emperor of Germany, aroused only passing interest.
Puccini.—When the great Verdi retired from active life as a composer, he named as his probable successor, Giacomo Puccini (Lucca, Italy, 1858). Descended from a musical family, Puccini could devote himself to his art without parental opposition, and he completed his studies under Ponchielli, at the Milan Conservatory. His “Le Villi” was really the origin of the modern one-act plays. “Edgar” resembles “Carmen” somewhat, but has a weak libretto, and music that is not always effective. “Manon Lescaut” is rather a succession of detached scenes than a single whole, but at times it displays a mastery of dramatic contrast far beyond Massenet. “La Bohême” is a delightfully sympathetic setting of Murger’s well-known novel, and its scenes of rollicking defiance to poverty and hunger remind one of the composer’s early struggles. The note of haunting sweetness that pervades the score marks Puccini as a man of rare musical gifts. In “Tosca,” the heroine of that name loves the artist, Mario, who aids a political refugee, at the risk of his own life. The governor, Scarpia, who captures him, loves Tosca also, and tortures him to make her yield to his desires. To save Mario, she consents, but stabs Scarpia at the last moment. But Scarpia’s treachery survives him, for the pretended execution, which was to let Mario escape, turns out to be real, and Tosca takes her own life in despair. The music shows a ripe mastery of dramatic power. The climax of the first act, merging into the church service, and the tragic power of the second, well contrasted with the strains of a festival cantata that float in through the window, are scenes that win unqualified praise from all critics. “Madame Butterfly,” on a Japanese subject, lacked the necessary delicacy, but the two preceding works have made Puccini the foremost man in Italian opera today.