Thursday, April 30, 2015

Il conte di Nevers

Speranza


The representation, with becoming dignity and splendour, of Weber's "Euriante" would have been an important and interesting event at any stage of the history of melodramma.

The melodramma is doubly notable, because of the undeniable popularity of the Wagner repertoire, to the early works of which Weber's compositions are distinctly and strongly linked.

Most music lovers will discern between Wagner's first operas and Weber's latest many points of resemblance.

 

Those that may not care to trust their own judgment or that of critics and commentators will be encouraged to do so by Wagner's own words, alluding to the "easily recognizable connection of “Tannhauser” with those of my predecessors, among whom," Wagner concludes, "I especially refer to Weber's."

That Weber first sounded the keynote of the Wagnerian theory is shown by his answer to a request for permission to perform the "Euriante" music in a concert at Breslau.

Weber wrote:

““Euriante” is a purely dramatic attempt, depending for impressiveness only upon the united effect of all the sister-arts, and surely ineffective when deprived of their aid.”

Remembrance of this fact, coupled with an acknowledgement of the fascination of research into the origin of things, would furnish a forceful argument, aside from that offered by the loveliness and power of the music of “Euriante”, in behalf of the bringing forth of a melodrama only known to many through its overture and two or three numbers—magnificent specimens of romantico-dramatic music, but, if the expressed opinion of Weber is of any account, utterly valueless as representing the totality of his achievement.

The book of the opera was written by Elmina di Chezy, who was born in Berlin in 1783, and who came to Paris in 1810, on the invitation of Mme. de Genlis, whom she met in Germany.

 

Von Chezy's first marriage turned out ill, and her second experiment in the same direction, whence her name of Von Chezy, bestowed upon her by M. de Chezy, a celebrated orientalist and, at the period of his marriage, Professor of Sanskrit in the College of France, proved equally unfortunate.

When the failure of her final matrimonial venture was established, Frau von Chezy hastened back to Germany, where she supported herself by her pen.

It has never been made clear how it came about that Weber chose her as a collaborator.

Judging by the book of “Euryanthe” the lady's literary powers must have been somewhat limited, and her personal prestige appears to have been exceedingly slight.

 

"She has been described to me," writes Chorley, "as that most doleful of all beings, an untidy, unhappy, unsuccessful woman of letters—a slatternly Sappho, from whom all men shrunk—eager, and warm-hearted.

With this odd creature Weber was in frequent correspondence.

The extraordinary popularity of "Der Freischuetz" spurred Weber to (if possible) outdo himself in “Eurianthe”.

Weber wrote to Frau von Chezy:

“To surpass this is now my task, and terrible it is to me. “Euryanthe” must be something quite new; must stand quite alone on its height.”

And later on Weber said:

“Heap difficulty upon difficulty; think of syllabic combinations over which a man might grow desperate.”

How far Weber's injunctions were heeded the audience can judge for himself.

In many instances, the libretto of an opera has been an important factor in the impressiveness of the work.

The most kind-hearted of critics, however, would shrink from claiming for the libretto of “Euriante” even a fractional share of the honour in which the melodramma is held.

The story of “Euriante” is founded upon an ancient romance of chivalry.

 

Its scene is laid in France, and its action carried on by five personages—the count of Nevers, a gallant knight; Euriante, a guileless maiden, princess of Savoia, now living in her castle in Nevers, betrothed to the count; Lisiart, the count's foe ; Eglantina, who loves the count and hates Euriante, and the king Luigi VI.

Euriante has learned from the count of Nevers a family secret, touching the sorrows of Emma, a sister of the count, long dead.

 

Euriante imparts the secret to Eglantina, who has won her friendship, and Eglantina, striking up an alliance with Lisiart, proves to the satisfaction of all concerned that Euriante has betrayed the count.

The count thereupon leads Euriante into a lonely mountain gorge, and is about to slay her, when a gigantic python appears.

 

Euriante seeks to lay down her life to save the count's, and the latter, deeply affected, apparently, concludes to leave the maiden to perish instead of killing her, as intended, in cold blood.

 

Luigi VI and a party of huntsmen arrive just in time to save Euriante from death, and, convinced of her innocence, they bring her back to the stronghold of Nevers.

 

Here all things are explained, and while Lisiart stabs Eglantina, previous to meeting with condign punishment, the count and Euriante are restored to happiness.

 

The public detects in “Euriante” not merely a marked resemblance between the incidents of the melodrama and those of “Lohengrin “—the vocal quintett corresponding with that of “Lohengrin” — but no faint likeness to those of “Cimbelino" a comparatively ill-known play, to which the genius and beauty of Adelaide Neilson, had the actress lived a few years longer, would have given a popularity akin to that of "Romeo e Giulietta"

“Euryanthe" had its first hearing in Vienna, on October 25, 1823.

Sontag sang Euriante; Haitzinger, Adolar; Forti, Lysiart, and Groenbaum, Eglantine.

It was coldly received, and, to add to the distressing impression produced upon the composer by the unkindly reception of the melodrama by the Viennese public, Beethoven spoke harshly of his contemporary's work, and denounced it as "an accumulation of diminished sevenths."

 

Beethoven, it is true, may have been aware that a harsh criticism on his A-minor symphony printed in the newspapers was written by Weber, for there is no reason to believe that the greatest composer that ever lived was quite above petty jealousy.

When Weber called upon him, however, Beethoven greeted him pleasantly, though brusquely, observing: "You should have come to see me before, not after the performance. Best deal with your score as I dealt with that of" Fidelio," and shorten it by at least one-third."

Schubert, too, spoke disparagingly of "Euryanthe."

But public taste speedily underwent a change.

"Euryanthe" was sung in turn in Berlin, in Dresden, in Leipzig, and again in Vienna, and its beauties gained gradually upon its auditors until it secured the fullest measure of appreciation.

As far back as 1839, Chorley, then on a visit to Dresden, made acquaintance with "Euryanthe," and waxed enthusiastic over it.

"Were I called upon," he writes, "to name the modern opera which has, musically, the most excited me> I should cite ' Euryanthe ' at Dresden.”

“So strong indeed was the excitement in the theatre as to render me unconscious of the many crudities contained in the score”

 

“ I felt carried away, not so much by a fervor as by a fever of music.”

“One knows the composition to be in many places strained, in many more patchy; the airs are constructed on unusual and arbitrary forms of rhythm; there is no prophesying, by the best practised listener, of the change or chord which is next to come.”

 

“But these faults are felt in closet study far more than in stage intercourse; while, to compensate for them, we have character, color, melody and the boldest rendering of the strongest emotions—tenderness, wonder, pity, passion, terror, and ecstasy.”

Who but will recognize, in the foregoing remarks, many of the characteristics of Wagner's music?

In the model representation on which Chorley dwells, Frau Schroder-Devrient—she that earned the title of the "Queen of Tears"—was Euriante, and Tichatschek the count.

Since those remote days " Euriante" has held a permanent place in the repertoire of the principal opera houses.

A successful presentation of the opera was effected, with a muchchanged but in no way bettered libretto, at the Theatre Lyrique, in Paris, in the Fall of 1857.

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