Sign In to Your Account
Subscribers have complete access to the archive.
Sign In Not a Subscriber?Join Now; ;
NEW OPERAS WITH NEW THEMES
Sigmund Spaeth
Comedy Seems to be Superseding Tragedy as the Motif for the Modems
FIVE operas, new to the American public, are holding the centre of the Metropolitan stage this season. One of these, the much-discussed "Rosenkavalier" of Richard Strauss, has already become a part of New York history. Another, "L'Amore dei Tre Re ' by Italo Montemezzi, had its American premiere early in January and won immediate popularity. The three new operas still to come are Victor Herbert's "Madeleine," the latest output of an American composer,Charpentier's " Julien," and Wolf-Ferrari's "L'Amore Medico."
"ROSENKAVALIER," presented at a special performance; and later included in the regular repertoire for the benefit of subscribers, has not yet established itself as either a success or a failure. I he public, as well as the critics, have still to express their final condemnation or approval. It is generally agreed, however, that the music is far superior to the libretto, and that only the genius of the Straussian orchestration, combined with the lavish staging of the Metropolitan directorate, can possibly bring the opera real popularity. The book which Hoffmannsthal has written, and which he calls "a comedy for music," would scarcely bear comparison with the most conventional and banal of the Broadway musical shows. It contains not a single flash of real wit, not a single original humorous device. All is threadbare, hackneyed and wearisome. The figure of an old roue, made ridiculous through his attempted gallantries, has long ago passed from the realm of comedy into that of tragedy. The burlesque and horse-play of trap-door interruptions to a lovescene have similarly been relegated to the slap-stick level of ten-cent vaudeville. As for the young man who plays the part of a girl, it is only the antiquity of the device that saves it from a suspicion of vulgarity.
DEYOND this, however, there is little in the text of the opera to excite the prudish mind. The widely advertised salacious features are limited to the display of real beds, a coarse bit of stagebusiness by a Police Captain, and an occasional Viennese obscenity by the Baron Ochs von Lerchenau. One point in the plot is remarkable, not only because of its revelation of the mental attitude of the author, but also by reason of its astonishing effect upon the audience. The Marchioness Werdenberg, discovered at the rise of the curtain in the arms of her lover, Octavian, heroically resolves to give him up to the young and beautiful Sophie von Faninal, in order that the latter may be saved from a marriage with the impossible Baron. The scene in which the Marchioness makes the sacrifice is pathetic enough to draw a real sympathy from the audience, which seems utterly oblivious of the fact that there is a Fieldmarshal Werdenberg somewhere in the background, who would undoubtedly approve of the transfer of young Octavian's affections.
CO MUCH for the book of "Rosenkavalier." The silliness of its plot, the laborious inanity of its horse-play humor, the impossible caricatures which serve as the persons of the drama, all are forgotten and forgiven in the diabolical cleverness and occasional real beauty of Strauss's music. In his favorite practice of direct imitation by orchestral effects, the composer has outdone himself. Not even the baby and the bath-tub of the "Domestic Symphony," the sheep of "Don Quixote," or the cattle of "Elektra," can be compared with the musical realism of the Baron's tortures under the Doctor's probe, or the deft manipulations of her ladyship's hairdresser, or the waving of a napkin at the refractory waiters. On such details as these the German master of orchestration has expended the minutest care, a tragic example of misdirected effort. For, since most of the themes of the opera arc conventional Viennese waltz-tunes, the score as a whole inevitably gives the impression of triviality. Yet there are several sustained passages of true musical value, particularly the trio and the Mozartian duet at the very end, the love-music of the opening scene — and the rose episode in the second act.
THE performances of "Rosenkavalier" have been in accordance with the high standard of the Metropolitan Opera House. To Alfred Hertz and the orchestra must go the greatest credit for the excellence of the production. Margarete Ober, in the title-role, sings and acts agreeably, and makes a brave effort to overcome the handicap of having to impersonate first a young man, and later the same young man disguised as a girl. Otto Goritz is even more handicapped in the rôle of the Baron, which no actor on earth could make convincing, cither musically or dramatically. Anna Case, as Sophie, is distinctly miscast. It would seem that Frieda Hempel, who sings admirably in the character of the Marchioness, might do even better as the younger girl, while her present rôle would be acceptably filled by Emmy Destinn. The scenery, though not at all unusual, was adequate.
ITALO MONTEMEZZI, the composer of the second novelty on the Metropolitan schedule, is a newcomer to the American public. He is a young man, of Milanese training, who is already hailed in his own country as the logical successor to Puccini. "L'Amore dei Tre Re" is a poetical tragedy in three acts, set to music of the most passionate Italian variety, but with a strong suggestion of the directness and realism of the Russian school. Its instantaneous success, both here and abroad, predicts a brilliant future for the young composer.
FOR Americans, however, the latest work of Victor Herbert will also have a great interest. "Madeleine" is only a one-act opera, but it contains what the composer himself considers his best and most serious music. The plot is nothing more than an episode in the life of a French singer, full of light humor and homely sentiment. But this is exactly the kind of a libretto that Herbert should treat with the best results, owing to his long experience in light opera. No one will deny that the genial Irishman possesses a greater melodic inventiveness than any man now composing music in America. If he has really adapted this gift to the requirements of the grand opera stage, as is claimed by the admirers of "Madeleine," the feat must be recorded as a great and welcome advance in American music; for the American instinct will never be satisfied with any music which is not essentially melodious, while the present state of American culture is just as insistent in its demand for sincerity, solidity, and real seriousness of purpose.
(Continued on page 90)
(Continued from page 37)
IF GUSTAVE CHARPENTIER fulfils his prom ise of coming to New York to conduct the American premiere of "Julien" the occasion will be the crowning event of a season already full of incident. "Julien" is by no means a second "Louise," yet it has merits of its own which will appeal strongly to an American audience. The intrinsic beauty of the music compelled the admiration of the Parisians last spring, even though this beauty was in many cases only a distant echo of Wagner and absolutely lacking in that element of novelty which is habitually associated with the French school of composition. A reason for this may be found in the fact that "Julien" is little more than the dramatic version of a symphony composed by Charpentier twenty years ago. This symphony (which was written for orchestra and chorus) was called "A Poet's Life," and the four movements represented "Enthusiasm," "Doubt," "Failing Power," and "Downfall." The four movements of the symphony readily became the four acts of an opera, and the music, in spite of many additions and some alterations, is still essentially the same as it was in 1893. The joy over a new work from the composer of "Louise" must, therefore, be tempered with regret that it should after all be little more than a species of self-plagiarism, particularly as the additional scenes and dramatic elaborations are the least successful features of the opera.
IN THE first act, "Julien" a role which is to be sung by Caruso, is seen at work. " Louise." the heroine of the earlier opera, is with him, and her presence is a constant inspiration. Three dream-pictures follow, representing the vision of "Julien's" success. They show the Holy Mountain, with the Temple of Beauty on its summit, which all the poets of the world are striving to reach. "Julien" himself is told in a dream that Ambition and Reason are not worth while. Love alone is to be desired. But he is determined to benefit humanity at whatever cost, and disregards the warning of the vision. In the second act the poet begins to suffer disappointment, and his soul is filled with doubts. Here also the call of an earthly love entices him and even the voices of the night give him no answer to his riddle. The third act shows the poet gradually losing confidence in himself and his mission, and eventually resigning himself to failure. His final downfall occurs in the last act amid the intoxication and bestiality of Montmartre.
OF THE new Wolf-Ferrari opera, "L'Amore Medico," little can be said as yet. It is based upon Molière's comedy, "L' Amour Médecin," and is said to represent the lighter art of the German-!talian composer at its best. Wolf-Ferrari has long ago established himself as one of the most interesting of the moderns, and after the undeniable success of "The Secret of Suzanne," and "The Jewels of the Madonna," the merit of his latest work must be taken for granted.
On the whole, the trend of the new operas seems to be a healthy one. Three of the five are comedies by composers of established reputation, which would seem to upset the old theory that grand opera, in order to be effective, must deal solely with the tragedies of life.
Subscribers have complete access to the archive.
Sign In Not a Subscriber?Join Now