Page:A Dictionary of Music and Musicians vol 3.djvu/688

676 the voices hold on a chord of the seventh on E, with an indescribable effect of unsatisfied longing. It is a stroke of true genius of which any German composer of the romantic school might be proud. The duet no. 17 contains some conventional thoughts, but the vehemence of its passion is irresistible, and it seems to have been the earliest instance of a kind of sentiment first employed among German composers by Marschner, e.g. in no. 17 of his 'Templer und Jüdin.' The spirit chorus no. 20 has a charming sound, produced by means entirely new; though, compared with Weber's tone-pictures, it strikes the hearer as superficial. It is impossible to help this comparison for many reasons, one being that in no. 21 of 'Nurmahal' one of Spontini's genii sings 'From Chindara's warbling fount I come.' A glance at the two compositions is enough to show how far he fell short of the qualities required for this kind of work. Nurmahal's songs in the latter part are thoroughly insipid; and the interest falls off just where the climax should have been reached. The rest of the piece contains much that is beautiful, especially some passages in the Andantino malinconico, of startling novelty and expression, the gay introductory chorus, and the melodious nos. 3, 4, and 5, so entirely in Spontini's Neapolitan manner that they might have been taken from his early operas. Here and there are touches recalling Mozart. The overture and ballets are brilliant and festal, and the overture has an open-airiness of style often found in Italian overtures. Clumsy declamation, however, and wrongly accented words, constantly betray that the composer is dealing with an unfamiliar language.

On June 9, 1821, Spontini started for a seven months' leave. He went first to Dresden, and there met Weber. Weber was cordial and obliging, while Spontini, though polite in manner, took pains to make his rival feel the newness of his reputation as a composer. By June 29 he was in Vienna trying to arrange a performance of 'Olympia' for the following season; but this did not take place. Thence he went to Italy, revisiting his birthplace; and by September was in Paris at work on the revision of 'Olympia.' He also made some experiments on 'Milton,' telling Brühl (Jan. 12, 1823) that he would put it before him in three different forms. By the end of January he was back in Berlin, apparently anxious to keep on good terms with Brühl, though such good resolutions seldom lasted long. One of their many differences was on the subject of star-singers (Gastspieler). These Brühl wished to encourage, as a means of testing the artists, and their chance of popularity; but Spontini disliked the system. An appearance of Carl Devrient and Wilhelmine Schroder in the summer of 1823 evoked another impertinent letter to Brühl, who in reply (July 7) told him to mind his own business.

He had now been in office four years, and the stipulated two grand operas every three years, or smaller one each year, were only represented by a scéna or two for 'Olympia,' and a couple of pieces for 'Nurmahal.' It was plain that he had undertaken a task wholly beyond his strength, owing to his pedantic manner of working. He thought (Aug. 2, 1823) of turning 'Milton' into a grand opera with recitatives, choruses, and ballets, but soon relinquished the idea, and by Oct. 17 was 'busy, night and day, with Alcidor.' The libretto was by Théauleon, who had formerly altered 'Cortez.' On coming to Berlin, in Nov. 1823, Théauleon found the first scene already composed, and his business was to fit words to the music. His task was not easy: 'If I wrote lines of ten syllables,' he says, 'Spontini wanted them of five; scarcely had I hammered out an unfortunate stanza of five, when it had to be lengthened to twelve or fifteen, and if I expostulated, on the ground that lines of that length were not admissible in French poetry, he would reply in a sort of recitative, accompanying himself on the piano, "The translation will make it all right." Never did so poor a poem cost its author so much trouble.' It is evident from this that Spontini composed to French words, which were afterwards translated by Herklots. Schinkel and Gropius again painted the scenery. The rehearsals began in Sept. 1824, and the first performance took place May 23, 1825. Its reception by Spontini's adherents was unmistakably hearty, and many outsiders were dazzled by its new effects of scenery and music, but the national party were louder than ever in their disapprobation. Among the adverse critiques was a parody in the true Berlin style, in which 'Alcidor eine Zauberoper' was converted into 'Allzudoll eine Zauderoper.' Zelter alone was impartial, but he was no doubt influenced by his prejudice against Weber, and all that he can say is 'The piece was written by Théauleon in French, and set to French music, so we have at last a real Berlin original that is a new coat turned'; and again, 'Spontini always reminds me of a Gold-King, flinging his gold at the people, and breaking their heads with it.' Not even a PF. score of 'Alcidor' was published; nor did it make its way beyond Berlin, any more than 'Nurmahal' had done.

The libretto is founded on the story of the nine statues in the 'Arabian Nights.' But the plot is weak, and the characters uninteresting. Spontini was induced to choose a super-natural story by the fashion of the day and the success of the 'Freischütz'; but in 'Alcidor,' as to some extent in 'Nurmahal,' he was striving against his own instincts. The German romantic operas of this period, unlike the earlier Viennese magic-operas, treated the supernatural element seriously, and this was an important feature in their success. But it required the deep sympathy