ROSSINI.

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Gioachino Antonio Rossini, the father of the modern Italian school of opera, was born Feb. 29, 1792, at Pesaro, in the Romagna. His father was an accomplished musician, and his mother a professional singer, so that he was brought up in a musical atmosphere. Even as a boy he sang with his mother in the theatre. He first studied with Mattei, and later with Martini. His first opera, "Demetrio e Polibio," was brought out at Rome in 1812, and before he had concluded his life-work, more than forty of his operas had been given in almost every part of Europe,--a crowning result of labor and contemporaneous fame not often enjoyed by composers. His "Tancredi," which was produced for the first time at Venice in 1813, was the opera which made him famous, and its remarkable success spread his reputation far and wide. In 1815 appeared "L' Italiana in Algeri" and "Aureliano in Palmira;" in 1816, "Elisabetta," "Otello," and his splendid work "The Barber of Seville," which, though his masterpiece, is said to have been [252] written in fourteen days; in 1817, "La Cenerentola," "La Gazza Ladra," and "Armida;" and in 1819, "Ricciardo e ZoraÏde," "La Donna del Lago," and many others. From 1815 to 1822 Rossini was under the "management" of the impresario Barbaja in Naples, who had much difficulty in keeping him to the work of composition, his facility in writing often leading him to defer work until it was the very eve of performance. In 1823, under the auspices of Barbaja, and with the assistance of the prima donna, Colbran, whom Rossini married about this time, his opera "Zelmira" and others of his works were given with such brilliant success as to raise his aspirations for a wider and more promising field of labor. In the year 1823 he went to Paris and London, finally settling in the former city, where he not only began a new grand opera, but also gave himself to the study and development of orchestral music and the encouragement of artists. His home was the Mecca of singers, and, like Liszt's at Weimar, the centre of art influences. The new work was "William Tell," which was first brought out in Paris in 1829. It was his last important effort. It met with only temporary success, though it enjoys to-day a reputation almost equal to that of the "Barber." His most celebrated work in sacred music is the "Stabat Mater," which, though written in operatic style and very brilliant in coloring, has retained its place in popular favor, and is to-day as eagerly sought for by artists and the public as it was in his own day. Among his other sacred works is "Moses [253] in Egypt,"--originally written as an oratorio for the San Carlo in Naples, and brought out there in 1818, though subsequently recast and provided with a revised libretto for the Paris Grand Opera in 1827. The "Prayer" from this work has a world-wide popularity. During the latter years of his life Rossini gave up composition entirely,--in part because of the eventual failure of his "William Tell,"--and enjoyed the fruits of his labors at his beautiful villa in Passy. He died Nov. 14, 1868. His sacred works, besides those already mentioned, are a few Italian oratorios, now unknown, three choruses, "Faith, Hope, and Charity," the "Petite Messe Solenelle," a "Tantum Ergo," a "Quoniam," and an "O Salutaris."

Stabat Mater.

The great Stabat Maters in the musical world are those of Palestrina, Pergolesi, Haydn, Steffani, Clari, Astorga, Winter, Neukomm, Rossini, and the one recently written by the Bohemian composer, DvorÁk. Of all these no one has been so popular as that of Rossini, nor made the world so familiar with the text of the Virgin's Lamentation. After the failure of "William Tell," Rossini abandoned opera-writing, though he had a contract with the Grand Opera at Paris for four more works, and contemplated taking up the subject of Faust. "William Tell" was his [254] last work for the stage; but before his absolute retirement he was to produce a work destined to add to his fame. In 1832 his friend Aguado induced him to compose a "Stabat Mater" for the Spanish minister, Don Valera, which was not intended to be made public. Before its completion he fell ill, and Tadolini wrote the last four numbers. The work was dedicated to Valera, with the understanding that it should always be retained by him. Nine years afterwards Valera died, and Rossini learned that his heirs had sold the work to a Paris publisher for two thousand francs. He at once claimed the copyright and brought an action, in which he was successful. He then composed four new numbers in place of those written by Tadolini, and sold the work complete to the publisher, Troupenas, for six thousand francs. The latter sold the right of performance for a limited time to the Escudiers for eight thousand francs, and they in turn sold it to the ThÉÂtre Italien for twenty thousand. Its first complete performance was at the Salle Ventadour, Jan. 7, 1842, Grisi, Albertazzi, Mario, and Tamburini taking the principal parts.

A brief but brilliant orchestral prelude leads to the opening chorus, "Stabat Mater dolorosa," arranged for solos and chorus, and very dramatic in style, especially in its broad, melodious contrasts. It is followed by the tenor solo, "Cujus Animam," which is familiar to every concert-goer,--a clear-cut melody free of embellishment, but very brilliant and even jubilant in character, considering the [255] nature of the text. The next number ("Quis est Homo"), for two sopranos, is equally familiar. It is based upon a lovely melody, first given out by the first soprano, and then by the second, after which the two voices carry the theme through measure after measure of mere vocal embroidery, closing with an extremely brilliant cadenza in genuine operatic style. The fourth number is the bass aria "Pro peccatis," the two themes in which are very earnest and even serious in character, and come nearer to the church style than any other parts of the work. It is followed by a beautifully constructed number ("Eia Mater"), a bass recitative with chorus, which is very strong in its effect. The sixth number is a lovely quartet ("Sancta Mater"), full of variety in its treatment, and closing with full, broad harmony. After a short solo for soprano ("Fac ut Portem"), the climax is reached in the "Inflammatus,"--a brilliant soprano obligato with powerful choral accompaniment. The solo number requires a voice of exceptional range, power, and flexibility; with this condition satisfied, the effect is intensely dramatic, and particularly fascinating by the manner in which the solo is set off against the choral background. A beautiful unaccompanied quartet in broad, plain harmony, "Quando Corpus," leads to the showy fugued "Amen" which closes the work.

Unquestionably the "Stabat Mater" is one of the most popular of all the minor sacred compositions; and the secret lies on the surface: it is to be found [256] in the delightful and fascinating melodies, which are strewn so thickly through it, as well as in the graceful bravura, which was so characteristic of Rossini, and which when delivered by accomplished artists is very captivating to a popular audience. As to its sacred form, it is as far from the accepted style of church music as Berlioz's or Verdi's requiems. Indeed, Rossini himself remarked to Hiller that he wrote it in the "mezzo serio" style. In connection with this matter one or two criticisms will be of interest. Rossini's biographer, Sutherland Edwards, says: "The 'Stabat Mater' was composed, as Raphael's Virgins were painted, for the Roman Catholic Church, which at once accepted it, without ever suspecting that Rossini's music was not religious." The remark, however, would be more pertinent were it not for the fact that the Church itself has not always been a good critic of its own music, or a good judge of what its music should be, as Liszt discovered when he went to Rome full of his purposes of reform in the musical service. Heine, in a letter to the "Allgemeine Zeitung" in 1842, replying to certain German criticisms, went so far as to say,--

"The true character of Christian art does not reside in thinness and paleness of the body, but in a certain effervescence of the soul, which neither the musician nor the painter can appropriate to himself either by baptism or study; and in this respect I find in the 'Stabat' of Rossini a more truly Christian character than in the 'Paulus' ['St. Paul'] of Felix Mendelssohn [257] Bartholdy,--an oratorio which the adversaries of Rossini point to as a model of Christian style."

It will hardly be claimed, however, even by Heine's friends, that this sweeping statement is either just to Mendelssohn or true of Rossini. Perhaps they will also concede that Heine was not a very good judge of Christianity in any of its aspects, musical or otherwise. The veteran Moscheles in one of his letters criticizes the work very pertinently. He says,--

"It is, as you may imagine, a model of 'singableness' (if I may say so); but it is not sufficiently church music to my taste. His solitary fugue is clumsy. The criticisms on the work are very various. Some agree with me; but the majority delight in the captivating Italian phrases, which I admire too, but which I cannot think are in the right place."

He might have added, "Because they are the phrases of 'Semiramide,' 'Tancredi,' and the 'Barber.'" There is scarcely a number of the "Stabat Mater" which might not be detached from it and reset in one of Rossini's operas without doing violence to whatever of the real religious style it may be supposed, or was intended, to have. The "Stabat Mater" music would be captivatingly beautiful in any setting.

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