Page:A Dictionary of Music and Musicians vol 3.djvu/184

172 wine from the cellar, which it is difficult to believe was in its first form applied to the taking of the Trocadéro! Adolphe Nourrit, who was not only a great artist, but a poet of very considerable dramatic power, was privately of much assistance to Rossini in the adaptation of his old music to the new words, and in the actual mounting of the piece in which he was to take so important a share. 'Le Comte Ory' was produced at the Académie, Aug. 20, 1828, and the principal characters were taken by Mme. Damoreau-Cinti, Mlles. Jawurek and Mori, Adolphe Nourrit, Levasseur, and Dabadie. The Introduction—in place of an Overture proper—is based on the old song which gives its name to the piece. In the second act, the grace and charm of the melodies more than atone for the very doubtful incidents of the libretto; and this was the most successful portion of the work. 'Charming!' 'Divine!' are the usual comments on its performance; but no one seems yet to have noticed that the most delicious passage of the drinking chorus ('C'est charmant! c'est divin!') is borrowed from the Allegretto scherzando of Beethoven's 8th Symphony. Rossini was at that time actually engaged with Habeneck, the founder of the Concerts of the Conservatoire, and his intimate friend, in studying the Symphonies of Beethoven; and it is easy to understand how impossible it must have been to forget the fresh and graceful movement referred to, in the termination of which many have indeed recognised a distinct allusion to Rossini himself.

The study of Beethoven was at any rate not a bad preparation for the very serious piece of work which was next to engage him, and for a great portion of which he retired to the château of his friend Aguado the banker at Petit-Bourg. Schiller had recently been brought into notice in France by the translation of M. de Barante; and Rossini, partly attracted by the grandeur of the subject, partly inspired by the liberal ideas at that moment floating through Europe, especially from the direction of Greece, was induced to choose the Liberator of the Swiss Cantons as his next subject. He accepted a libretto offered him by Etienne Jouy, Spontini's old librettist, who in this case was associated with Hippolyte Bis. Their words, however, were so unmusical and unrhythmical, that Rossini had recourse to Armand Marrast, at that time Aguado's secretary, and the whole scene of the meeting of the conspirators—one of the best in operatic literature, and the only thoroughly satisfactory part of 'Guillaume Tell'—was rewritten by him, a fact which we are glad to make public in these pages.

This grand opera, undoubtedly Rossini's masterpiece, was produced at the Académie on Aug. 3, 1829, with the following cast:—Arnold, Nourrit; Walter Fürst, Levasseur; Tell, Dabadie; Ruodi, A.Dupont; Rodolphe, Massol; Gessler, Prévost; Leutold, Prévôt; Mathilde, Damoreau-Cinti; Jemmy, Dabadie; Hedwige, Mori.

'Tell' has now become a study for the musician, from the first bar of the overture to the storm scene and the final hymn of freedom. The overture is no longer, like Rossini's former ones, a piece of work on a familiar, well-worn pattern, but a true instrumental prelude, which would be simply perfect if the opening and the fiery peroration were only as appropriate to the subject as they are tempting to the executant. We find no absurdities like those in 'Moïse'—no song of thanksgiving accompanied by a brilliant polonaise, no more cabalettas, no more commonplace phrases or worn-out modulations,—in short, no more padding of any kind. True, it would not be difficult to criticise the length of the duet in the 2nd act, which recalls the duet in 'Semiramide,' and breathes rather the concert-room than the stage—or the style of the finale of the 3rd act, which is not appropriate to the situation. But in place of thus searching for spots on the sun we prefer to bask in his radiance and enjoy his beneficent warmth.

The spectacle of a great master at the zenith of his glory and in the very prime of life thus breaking with all the traditions of his genius and appearing as in a second avatar is indeed a rare and noble one. The sacrifice of all the means of effect by which his early popularity had been obtained is one which Rossini shares with Gluck and Weber, but which our former experience of his character would hardly have prepared us for. He seems at length to have discovered how antagonistic such effects were to the simplicity which was really at the base of the great musical revolution effected by him; but to discover, and to act on a discovery, are two different things, and he ought to have full credit for the courage and sincerity with which, at his age, he forsook the flowery plains in which his genius had formerly revelled, for loftier and less accessible heights.

But though deserting, as he does in 'Tell,' the realm of pure sensation, and discarding the voluptuous music of his early operas, Rossini remains still the fresh and copious melodist that he always was. In fact, he is more. The strains in which he has depicted the Alps and their pastoral inhabitants are fresher, more graceful, more happy than ever; the notes which convey the distress of the agonised father; the enthusiastic expression of the heroes of Switzerland; the harrowing phrases which convey the anguish of a son renouncing all that he holds most dear; the astonishing variety of the colours in which the conspiracy is painted; the lofty strains of the purest patriotism; the grandeur of the outlines; the severity of the style; the coexistence of so much variety with such admirable unity; the truly Olympian dignity which reigns throughout—all surpass in their different qualities anything that he ever accomplished before. But what might not be expected from a composer who at thirty-seven had thus voluntarily submitted himself to the severity of