The Operatic Problem

"With minstrelsy the rafters sung,Of harps, that from reflected lightFrom the proud gallery glittered brightTo crown the banquet's solemn close,Themes of British glory rose;And to the strings of various chimesAttemper'd the heroic rhymes."

To the Flemish, or Netherland School of music we owe an art system, that exercised a potent influence on every form of composition, and counterpoint was the especial study of its followers, until, as invariably happens, technical skill was regarded with a greater degree of favour than genuine inspiration. But the School unquestionably produced a vast number of very fine masses, motets, and much fine service music. Then from Belgium the musical spirit travelled to Italy, and before the 16th century had fulfilled half its appointed course, the powers of Palestrina had indelibly stamped Italian art, and his genius had elevated the ecclesiastical music of the age, to the lofty standard of its associations. Then such musicians came to mind as Monteverdi and Carissimi, the latter of whom made clear the path, for those great writers of oratorio, whose names we hold in such reverence, and whose works we love with such unwavering devotion. German art was late in the field, and correspondingly slow in the earlier stages of its development; thus we owe it little as a pioneer in the art. But when the Teuton burst upon the world in all his greatness, he first came in the colossal personality of John Sebastian Bach, and then followed Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven, to be succeeded by others, who were well qualified to take unto themselves the mantles of their predecessors. Perhaps, however, I have done early German art some injustice, for it must not be forgotten, that to the era of the great Reformation, we owe those Lutheran chorales, such as the famous Ein' feste Burg, which were as effective in stirring and encouraging the rank and file of the reformers, as were the thrilling words of Luther, and his earnest and enthusiastic fellow-workers. And it was due to the custom of accompanying these chorales, that Germany owned, before the end of the 17th century, the finest school of organists in Europe. English music has always leaned more towards the sacred, than the secular side of the art. The names of Marbecke, Thomas Tallis, Byrd, Farrant, Gibbons, Lawes, Blow and Purcell are known to every choir-boy and village chorister. Their anthems and chants are part and parcel of the musical programme of every parish church, and the fine example, set by these Elizabethan and Stuart writers has been well followed, by Croft, Weldon, Boyce, and nearer, and belonging to our own times, Wesley, Goss and Sullivan. And it is the sacred in music, which to-day makes the strongest appeal to the heart of the English nation. In the congregational singing in churches, in the overwhelming attention which an English audience will bestow on such an oratorio as the Messiah, we realise that a chord is struck, which vibrates through the whole of our being, which lifts us into a state of semi-exultation, and moves us like the words of some great statesman. I will not discuss the question, of whether a drama or an opera has most power over its audience, but I will fearlessly affirm, that apart from the drama there is no art that has the same soul-stirring influence, as the art of music. The simple harmonies of our Anglican hymns suffice for the untaught peasant, and the broad sweep of a Handelian chorus holds captive musical amateurism. But there is a music that reaches to higher heights, embraces within its sphere a wider domain, and goes deep down into the mysteries of nature – into the abysses of the soul; but such music is an open book only for the musical student. It lives. It exists. It swells through the length and breadth of the land; and year by year its influence increases, its power becomes more dominant, and its glowing beauties more vividly appreciated. People are beginning to comprehend the wondrous message, sent to us by such composers as Ludwig Beethoven, and Richard Wagner. They are beginning to understand the voice of that most marvellous of all instruments – more marvellous than the organ itself, for its keyboard is human brains, and its stops are human hands. I mean the modern orchestra. The world's finest music has been written for that instrument; the divinest melodies have been given it to interpret, and the most significant factor in the English art life of the present is the growing enthusiasm with which music, in its highest and most abstract form and beauty, is listened to, by those who, in political phraseology, are summed up in that terse and comprehensive expression "The Masses." I look with much greater confidence to music, than I do to Parliament, for the means of preventing crime and intemperance – indeed, as one of the most permanent cures of all vice and discontent. Much has been done in later years by local authorities, towards enabling the public to have within easy and reasonable reach such music as can be provided by bands and local orchestra. But this is only the beginning. I trust the day may not be far distant, when local authorities will see their way to providing at cheap prices the best of operas, as is done so largely on the Continent of Europe. We rightly and wisely provide libraries, technical schools, and many other forms of instructive recreation, but why are we in England to lag behind other countries in providing that most instructive form of entertainment – namely, opera. I have never known a true lover of music who was not a good citizen. And what a preventive against idleness, the cause of so much crime. Once produce opera at a price which all can afford to pay to hear, and can anyone doubt, that many a man and woman will choose it, in preference to an evening in a public-house or a music-hall. I never remember listening to an opera, however poor or badly performed, that I have not gained some strength with which to continue the desperate struggle of the battle of life – which is very much more than I can say, for instance, for speeches in the House of Commons. He who loves music has a servant at his command which will ever render him willing and delightful service; he who loves music brings himself into subjection, to one of the most elevating and purifying influences of civilisation, and he who loves music and will practise it, becomes a valuable and agreeable factor in the social life of the community. There are no selfish restrictions in music. The painter must keep himself to his canvas, and the actor to his stage, but singers and instrumentalists have a standing in the humble parlours of the poor, and in the luxuriously-upholstered drawing-rooms of the rich; they have a coign of vantage in the choir stalls of churches and on the platforms of concert halls. Music offers her favours alike to the modest reader of the Tonic Sol-fa Notation, and to the pianist who can master the difficulties of the Beethoven Sonatas. The chorus singer enjoys the same measure of gratification as the leading soloist, and the student with his score in his hand is just as great a king as the conductor. In speaking briefly on such a vast and interesting subject, one must necessarily leave volumes unsaid that ought to be said. I have but casually touched on the beginnings of musical art, and the utmost I can hope for is that I have succeeded in arousing some degree of curiosity in the minds of those, who have shown but little regard for musical literature, and which will have the effect of ultimately leading them to devote more of their time and attention to good musical performances.

1

Here is an extract of this privilège: – "Nous avons au dit Perrin, accordé et octroyé, accordans et octroyons par les présentes signées de notre main la permission d'etablir en notre bonne ville de Paris et autres de nostrec Royaume, des Académies composées de tel nombre et qualité de personnes qu'il avisera, pour y représenter et chanter en public des opéra et représentations en musique et en vers français, pareilles et semblables à celles d'Italie. Et pour dédommager l'Exposant, des grands frais du'il conviendra faire pour les dites Représentations, tant pour les Théatres, Machines, Décorations, Habits qu'autres choses nécessaires; nous luy permettons de prendre du public telles sommes qu'il avisera et à cette fin d'etablir des gardes et autres gens nécessaires à la porte des lieux où se feront les dites Représentations; Faisant très expresses inhibitions et défences à toutes personnes de quelque qualité et condition qu'elles soient, mesme aux officiers de nostre Maison d'y entrer sans payer, et de faire chanter de pareils opéra ou Représentations en musique et en vers français dans toute l'entendue de nostre Royaume pendant douze années sans le consentement et permission du dit exposant, à peine de dix huit mil livres d'amende," etc., etc.

2

It may be of interest to note that during this period no less than 543 different works, mostly by native composers, had been produced. The last opera produced under the old régime on the 3rd of August 1829 was Rossini's Guillaume Tell.

3

During 1900 Faust was played thirty-nine times to an average house of 18,397 francs (about £730) in a repertory of twenty-five operas, and the Walküre eleven times to an average of 19,417 francs (about £777).