Part 11 (2/2)

The birth of this child, which I had deeply longed for, was a joy and a blessing to us both. He has been mercifully spared to us, is now over one-and-twenty, and hopes to be a painter.

Since the withdrawal of ”La Nonne Sanglante” I had done no dramatic work; but I had written a short oratorio, called ”Tobie,” which George Hainl (then conductor of the orchestra at the Grand Theatre at Lyons) had asked me to compose for one of his annual benefit concerts. This oratorio, as it strikes me, has certain qualities both of sentiment and of expression. Some attention was attracted by a somewhat touching air for the youthful Tobias, and by several other pa.s.sages which had a good deal of pathos about them. In 1856 I made the acquaintance of Jules Barbier and Michel Carre. I suggested to them to collaborate with me, and trust me with a libretto. They agreed to do so in a very friendly way. The first subject I put forward for collaboration was ”Faust.” The idea pleased them both. We went to see Monsieur Carvalho, at that time Director of the Theatre Lyrique, in the Boulevard du Temple. He had just brought out Victor Ma.s.se's ”Reine Topaze,” in which Madame Miolan-Carvalho had achieved a striking success. Monsieur Carvalho approved of our notion, and my two friends set to work at once. I had myself done about half my share of the work, when Monsieur Carvalho suddenly informed me that the Theatre de la Porte Saint Martin was on the point of bringing out a melodrama under the name of ”Faust,” and that this fact completely upset his calculations with regard to our work. He rightly thought we should never be ready before the Porte Saint Martin, and even so, it would be imprudent to enter into compet.i.tion with a theatre whose well-known splendour as to _mise en scene_ would draw half Paris just before our piece appeared.

He therefore begged us to choose some other subject, but this sudden upset made it impossible for me to turn my thoughts into another channel, and for more than a week I was unable to do any work at all.

At last Monsieur Carvalho asked me to write a comic opera, and to take my subject from Moliere. This was the origin of the ”Medecin malgre lui,” which was produced at the Theatre Lyrique on January 15, 1858, the anniversary of Moliere's birth.

The announcement of a comic opera from the pen of a musician whose former ventures had been in such a different style seemed to bode disappointment. But these fears (some of them were hopes perhaps?) were not justified by the event, for the ”Medecin malgre lui” was, _malgre cela_, my first really successful opera.[15]

But all my delight was shattered by the death of my poor mother. She had been ill for some months, and completely blind for two years previously.

She died on January 16, 1858, the very day after the first performance, aged seventy-seven years and a half. Fate did not permit me to brighten her last days with the fruit of my labour, and the just recompense of the life she had so unceasingly devoted to her children and their future. I can only hope that before she left us she knew and foresaw that her struggle had not been in vain, and that her self-sacrifice had brought a great reward.

The ”Medecin malgre lui” had an uninterrupted run of a hundred nights.

The work was staged with the greatest care. Monsieur Got, of the Comedie Francaise, was good enough, at the request of the Director, to bestow his invaluable advice as to the traditional mounting of the piece and the declamation of the spoken dialogue. The chief part, that of Sganarelle, was played by the baritone Meillet, whose voice was full and round, and his play spirited. He made a great success both as a singer and an actor. The other male parts were taken by Girardot, Wartel, Fromant, and Lesage (the two latter afterwards replaced by Potel and Gabriel), and all in the very best manner. The two princ.i.p.al ladies'

parts were held by Mesdemoiselles Faivre and Girard, both of them full of life and animation.

This score, the first comic work I ever did, is in a light and easy style which savours of the Italian opera-bouffe. I have endeavoured to recall the style of Lulli in certain pa.s.sages, but the work as a whole keeps to the modern forms, and belongs to the French school. Among the numbers which most took the public taste were the ”Chanson des Glouglous,” excellently sung by Meillet, and invariably encored; the ”Trio de la Bastonnade,” the ”s.e.xtuor de la Consultation,” a ”Fabliau,”

the ”Scene de Consultation des Paysans,” and a duet for Sganarelle and the nurse.

The Porte-Saint-Martin ”Faust” had just been brought out; but all its magnificent staging did not ensure the melodrama a very long run.

Monsieur Carvalho consequently reverted to our former plan, and I at once set to work upon the opera which I had laid aside to write the ”Medecin.”

My ”Faust” was first put into rehearsal in September 1858. Before I left Paris for Switzerland, where I was to spend the holidays with my wife and son, then two years old, I had gone through the work with Monsieur Carvalho in the Foyer of his theatre. At that time nothing had been settled as to the cast, and Monsieur Carvalho had asked my leave to bring his wife, who lived opposite the theatre, to hear me play over the work. She was so struck with the _role_ of Marguerite, that Monsieur Carvalho begged me to let her sing it. I was naturally only too delighted, and the result proved my decision to have been something like an inspiration.

All the same, the rehearsals of ”Faust” were not fated to pursue ”the even tenor of their way” without many checks and difficulties. The tenor who was to have played ”Faust,” although gifted with a beautiful voice and a handsome presence, turned out not to be equal to so heavy a part.

A short time before the date fixed for the first performance, it became necessary to find some one to take his place; and the part was offered to Monsieur Barbot, who happened to be disengaged. Within a month Barbot had mastered it and was ready to perform. So the opera was acted for the first time on March 19, 1859.

Though ”Faust” did not strike the public very much at first, it is the greatest theatrical success I have ever had. Do I mean that it is the best thing I have written? That I cannot tell. I can only reiterate the opinion I have already expressed, that success is more the result of a certain concatenation of favourable elements and successful conditions, than a proof and criterion of the intrinsic value of a work. Public favour is attracted in the first instance by outward appearances; all inward and solid qualities can do is to retain and strengthen it. It takes some time to grasp and absorb the innumerable details which go to make up a drama.

Dramatic art is a branch of the art of portraiture; its function is to delineate character, as that of the painter is to present feature and att.i.tude. Every lineament, all those momentary and fleeting inflections which const.i.tute that individual physiognomy known as a ”personality,”

must be grasped and reproduced. Shakespeare's immortal figures of Hamlet, Richard III., Oth.e.l.lo, and Lady Macbeth are so true to the type which each expresses, that they hold a real and living place in every mind. Well may they be called ”creations.”

Dramatic music is ruled by the same laws, and cannot otherwise exist.

Its object, too, is to portray feature; but where painting conveys an impression at a glance, music has to tell its story by degrees, and thus often fails to produce the intended effect at a first hearing.

None of my previous works could have led the world to expect anything like ”Faust” from me; it was a surprise to the public, both as to style and interpretation.

Of course the part of Marguerite was not the first in which Madame Carvalho had found scope for that marvellous style and power of execution which have set her in the highest place among contemporary singers; but no previous _role_ had given her so fine an opportunity of displaying the lyric and pathetic side of her gifts. Her Marguerite made her reputation in this respect, and will always be one of the glories of her brilliant career. Barbot sang the difficult part of Faust like the great musician he is. Balanque, who created the part of Mephistopheles, was a clever actor, whose gesture, appearance, and voice admirably suited that weird and diabolical personage. Although he somewhat overacted the part, he made a great success. The smaller parts of Siebel and Valentine were very creditably performed by Mademoiselle Faivre and Monsieur Raynal.

As to the score itself, it raised such a whirlwind of debate and criticism, that my hopes of a real success grew faint indeed.

LETTERS

I

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