"I have been last Sunday at the Opera, which was performed in the garden of the Favorita; and I was so much pleased with it, I have not yet repented my seeing it. Nothing of the kind was ever more magnificent, and I can easily believe what I am told, that the decorations and habits cost the Emperor thirty thousand pounds sterling. The stage was built over a very large ca.n.a.l, and at the beginning of the second act divided into two parts, discovering the water, on which there immediately came, from different parts, two fleets of little gilded vessels that gave the representation of a naval fight. It is not easy to imagine the beauty of this scene, which I took particular notice of. But all the rest were perfectly fine in their kind. The story of the Opera is the enchantment of Alcina, which gives opportunities for a great variety of machines, and changes of scenes which are performed with surprising swiftness. The theatre is so large that it is hard to carry the eye to the end of it, and the habits in the utmost magnificence to the number of one hundred and eight. No house could hold such large decorations; but the ladies all sitting in the open air exposes them to great inconveniences, for there is but one canopy for the Imperial Family, and the first night it was represented, a shower of rain happening, the opera was broken off, and the company crowded away in such confusion that I was almost squeezed to death."

[Sidenote: SCENIC DECORATIONS.]

One of these open air theatres, though doubtless on a much smaller scale than that of Vienna, stood in the garden of the Tuileries, at Paris, at the beginning of the eighteenth century. It was embowered in trees and covered with creeping plants, and the performances took place there in the day-time. These garden theatres were known to the Romans, witness the following lines of Ovid:--

"Illic quas tulerant nemorosa palatia, frondes Simpliciter positae; scena sine arte fuit."

_De Arte Amandi_, Liber I., v. 105.

I myself saw a little theatre of the kind, in 1856, at Flensburgh, in Denmark. There was a pleasure-ground in front, with benches and chairs for the audience. The stage door at the back opened into a cabbage garden. The performances, which consisted of a comedy and farce took place in the afternoon, and ended at dusk.

I have already spoken of the magnificence and perfection of the scenic pictures exhibited at the Italian theatres in the very first days of the Opera. In the early part of the seventeenth century immense theatres were constructed so as to admit of the most elaborate spectacular displays. The Farnesino Theatre, at Parma, built for dramas, tournaments, and spectacles of all kinds, and which is now a ruin, contained at least fifty thousand spectators.[28]

In the 18th century the Italians seem to have thought more of the music of their operas, and to have left the vanities of theatrical decorations to the Germans.

Servandoni, for some time scene painter and decorator at the Academie Royale of Paris not finding that theatre sufficiently vast for his designs, sought a new field for his ambition at the Opera-House of Dresden, where Augustus of Poland engaged him to superintend the arrangement of the stage. Servandoni painted a number of admirable scenes for this theatre, in the midst of which four hundred mounted hors.e.m.e.n were able to manuvre with ease.

In 1760 the Court of the Duke of Wurtemburg, at Stuttgardt, was the most brilliant in Europe, owing partly, no doubt, to the enormous subsidies received by the Duke from France for a body of ten thousand men, which he maintained at the service of that power. The Duke had a French theatre, and two Italian theatres, one for Opera Seria, and the other for Opera Buffa. The celebrated Noverre was his ballet-master, and there were a hundred dancers in the _corps de ballet_, besides twenty princ.i.p.al ones, each of whom had been first dancer at one of the chief theatres of Italy. Jomelli was chapel-master and director of the Opera at Stuttgardt from 1754 until 1773.

[Sidenote: SCENIC DECORATIONS.]

In the way of stage decorations, theatrical effects, and the various other spectacular devices by which managers still seek to attract to their Operas those who are unable to appreciate good music, we have made no progress since the 17th century. We have, to be sure, gas and the electric light, which were not known to our forefathers; but St.

Evremond tells us that in Louis the XIV.'s time the sun and moon were so well represented at the Academie Royale, that the Amba.s.sador of Guinea, a.s.sisting at one of its performances, leant forward in his box, when those orbs appeared and religiously saluted them. To be sure, this anecdote may be cla.s.sed with one I have heard in Russia, of an actor who, playing the part of a bear in a grand melodrama, in which a storm was introduced, crossed himself devoutly at each clap of thunder; but the stories of Servandoni's and Bernino's decorations are no fables.

Like the other great masters of stage effect in Italy, Bernino was an architect, a sculptor and a painter. His sunsets are said to have been marvellous; and in a spectacular piece of his composition, ent.i.tled _The Inundation of the Tiber_, a ma.s.s of water was seen to come in from the back of the stage, gradually approaching the orchestra and washing down everything that impeded its onward course, until at last the audience, believing the inundation to be real, rose in terror and were about to rush from the theatre. Traps, however, were ready to be opened in all parts of the stage. The Neptune of the troubled theatrical waves gave the word,

----"_et dicto citius tumida aequora placat_."

But in Italy, even at the time when such wonders were being effected in the way of stage decorations, the music of an opera was still its prime attraction; indeed, there were theatres for operas and theatres for spectacular dramas, and it is a mistake to attempt the union of the two in any great excellence, inasmuch as the one naturally interferes with and diverts attention from the other.

Of Venice and its music, in the days when grand hunts, charges of cavalry, triumphal processions in which hundreds of hors.e.m.e.n took part, and ships traversing the ocean, and proceeding full sail to the discovery of America were introduced on to the stage;[29] of Venice and its music even at this highly decorative period, St. Evremond has given us a brief but very satisfactory account in the following doggrel:--

"A Venise rien n'est egal: Sept operas, le carneval; Et la merveille, l'excellence, Point de churs et jamais de danse, Dans les maisons, souvent concert, Ou tout se chante a livre ouvert."

The operatic chorus, as has already been observed, is an invention claimed by the French[30]; on the other hand, from the very foundation of the Academie Royale, the French rendered their Operas ridiculous by introducing _ballets_ into the middle of them. We shall find Rousseau calling attention to this absurd custom which still prevails at the Academie, where if even _Fidelio_ was to be produced, it would be considered necessary to "enliven" one or more of the scenes with a _divertiss.e.m.e.nt_--so unchanging and unchangeable are the revolutionary French in all that is futile.

[Sidenote: THE OPERA AT VIENNA.]

We have seen that in the first years of the 18th century, the Opera at Vienna was chiefly remarkable for its size, and the splendour and magnificence of its scenery. But it soon became a first-rate musical theatre; and it was there, as every one who takes an interest in music knows, that nearly all the masterpieces of Gluck and Mozart[31] were produced. The French sometimes speak of Gluck's great works as if they belonged exclusively to the repertory of their Academie. I have already mentioned that four years before Gluck went to Paris (1774), his _Orfeo_ was played in London. This opera was brought out at Vienna in 1764, when it was performed twenty-eight times in succession. The success of _Alceste_ was still greater; and after its production in 1768, no other opera was played for two years. At this period, the imperial family did not confine the interest they took in the Opera to mere patronage; four Austrian archd.u.c.h.esses, sisters of the Emperor Charles VII., themselves appeared on the stage, and performed, among other pieces, in the _Egeria_ of Metastasio and Ha.s.se, and even in Gluck's works. Charles VII. himself played on the harpsichord and the violoncello; and the Empress mother, then seventy years of age, once said, in conversing with Faustina (Ha.s.se's widow at that time), "I am the oldest dramatic singer in Europe; I made my _debut_ when I was five years old." Charles VI.

too, Leopold's successor, if not a musician, had, at least, considerable taste in music; and Farinelli informed Dr. Burney that he was much indebted to this sovereign for an admonition he once received from him.

The Emperor told the singer that his performance was surprising, and, indeed, prodigious; but that all was unavailing as long as he did not succeed in touching the heart. It would appear that at this time Farinelli's style was wanting in simplicity and expressiveness; but an artist of the intelligence and taste which his correspondence with Metastasio proves him to have possessed, would be sure to correct himself of any such failings the moment his attention was called to them.

[Sidenote: SINGERS OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.]

The 18th century produced a mult.i.tude of great singers. Their voices have gone with them; but we know from the music they sang, from the embellishments and cadences which have been noted down, and which are as good evidence now as when they were first executed, that those _virtuosi_ had brought the vocal art to a perfection of which, in these later days, we meet with only the rarest examples. Is music to be written for the sake of singers, or are singers to learn to sing for the sake of music? Of the two propositions, I decidedly prefer the latter; but it must, at the same time, be remarked, that unless the executive qualities of the singer be studied to a considerable extent, the singer will soon cease to pay much attention to his execution. Continue to give him singable music, however difficult, and he will continue to learn to sing, counting the difficulties to be overcome only as so many opportunities for new triumphs; but if the music given to him is such as can, perhaps even _must_, be shouted, it is to be expected that he will soon cease to study the intricacies and delicacies of his art; and in time, if music truly vocal be put before him, he will be unable to sing.

The great singers of the 17th century, to judge from the cantilenas of Caccini's, Peri's, and Monteverde's operas, must have cultivated expression rather than ornamentation; though what Mancini tells us about the singing of Balthazar Ferri, and the manner in which it was received, proves that the florid, highly-adorned style was also in vogue. These early Italian _virtuosi_ (a name which they adopted at the beginning of the 17th century to distinguish themselves from mere actors) not only possessed great acquirements as singers, but were also excellent musicians; and many of them displayed great ability in matters quite unconnected with their profession. Stradella, the only vocalist of whom it is recorded that his singing saved his life, composed an opera, _La Forza dell Amor paterno_, of which the manifold beauties caused him to be proclaimed "beyond comparison the first Apollo of music:" the following inscription being stamped by authority on the published score--"_Bastando il dirti, che il concerto di si perfetta melodia sia valore d'un Alessandro, cive del Signor Stradella, riconoscinto senza contrasto per il primo Apollo della musica._" Atto, an Italian tenor, who came to Paris with Leonora Baroni, and who had apartments given him in Cardinal Mazarin's palace, was afterwards entrusted by that minister with a political mission to the court of Bavaria, which, however, it must be remembered, was just then presided over, not by an elector, but by an electoress. Farinelli became the confidential adviser, if not the actual minister (as has been often stated, but without foundation) of the king of Spain. In the present day, the only _virtuoso_ I know of (the name has now a more general signification) who has been entrusted with _quasi_-diplomatic functions is Vivier, the first horn player, and, in his own way, the first humorist of the age; I believe it is no secret that this facetious _virtuoso_ fills the office of secretary to his Excellency Vely Pasha.

[Sidenote: SINGERS OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.]

Bontempi, in his _Historia Musica_, gives the following account of the school of singing directed by Mazzocchi, at Rome, in 1620: "At the schools of Rome, the pupils were obliged to give up one hour every day to the singing of difficult pa.s.sages till they were well acquainted with them; another to the practice of the shake; another to feats of agility;[32] another to the study of letters; another to vocal exercises, under the direction of a master, and before a looking-gla.s.s, so that they might be certain they were making no disagreeable movement of the muscles of the face, of the forehead, of the eyes, or of the mouth. So much for the occupation of the morning. In the afternoon, half-an-hour was devoted to the theory of singing; another half-hour to counterpoint; an hour to hearing the rules of composition, and putting them in practice on their tablets; another to the study of letters; and the rest of the day to practising the harpsichord, to the composition of some psalm, motet, canzonetta, or any other piece according to the scholar's own ideas.

"Such were the ordinary exercises of the school in days when the scholars did not leave the house. When they went out, they often walked towards Monte Mario, and sang where they could hear the echo of their notes, so that each might judge by the response of the justness of his execution. They, moreover, sang at all the musical solemnities of the Roman Churches; following, and observing with attention the manner and style of an infinity of great singers who lived under the pontificate of Urban VIII., so that they could afterwards render an account of their observations to the master, who, the better to impress the result of these studies on the minds of his pupils, added whatever remarks and cautions he thought necessary."

With such a system as the above, it would have been impossible, supposing the students to have possessed any natural disposition for singing, not to have produced good singers. We have spoken already of some of the best vocalists of the 18th century; of Faustina, Cuzzoni, and Mingotti; of Nicolini, Senesino, and Farinelli. Of Farinelli's life, however (which was so interesting that it has afforded to a German composer the subject of one opera, to M. M. Scribe and Auber, that of another, _La part du Diable_, and to M. Scribe the plan of "_Carlo Broschi_," a tale), I must give a few more particulars; and this will also be a convenient opportunity for sketching the careers of some two or three others of the great Italian singers of this epoch, such as Caffarelli, Gabrielli, Guadagni, &c.

First, as to his name. It is generally said that Carlo Broschi owed his appellation of Farinelli to the circ.u.mstance of his father having been a miller, or a flour merchant. This, however, is pure conjecture. No one knows or cares who Carlo Broschi's father was, but he was called "Farinelli," because he was the recognised _protege_ of the Farina family; just as another singer, who was known to be one of Porpora's favorite pupils, was named "Porporino."

[Sidenote: SINGERS' NICKNAMES.]

Descriptive nicknames were given to the celebrated musicians as well as to the celebrated painters of Italy. Numerous composers and singers owed their sobriquets

TO THEIR NATIVE COUNTRY; as--

_Il Sa.s.sone_ (Ha.s.se), born at Bergendorf, in Saxony; _Portogallo_ (Simao); _Lo Spagnuolo_ (Vincent Martin); _L'Inglesina_ (Cecilia Davies); _La Francesina_ (Elizabeth Duparc), who, after singing for some years with success in Italy and at London, was engaged by Handel in 1745, to take the princ.i.p.al soprano parts in his oratorios:

TO THEIR NATIVE TOWN; as--

_Buranello_, of Burano (Galuppi); _Pergolese_, of Pergola (Jesi); _La Ferrarese_, of Ferrara (Francesca Gabrielli); _Senesino_, of Sienna (Bernardi):

TO THE PROFESSION OF THEIR PARENTS; as--

_La Cochetta_ (Catarina), whose father was cook to Prince Gabrielli, at Rome:

TO THE PLACE THEY INHABITED; as--

_Checca della Laguna_, (Francesca of the Lagune):

TO THE NAME OF THEIR MASTER; as--

_Caffarelli_ (Majorano), pupil of Caffaro; _Gizziello_ (Conti), pupil of Gizzi; _Porporino_ (Hubert), pupil of Porpora:

TO THE NAME OF THEIR PATRON; as--

_Farinelli_ (Carlo Broschi), protected by the Farinas, of Naples; _Gabrielli_ (Catarina), protected by Prince Gabrielli;

_Cusanimo_ (Carestini), protected by the Cusani family of Milan:

TO THE PART IN WHICH THEY HAD PARTICULARLY DISTINGUISHED THEMSELVES; as--

_Siface_ (Grossi), who had obtained a triumphant success, as that personage, in Scarlatti's _Mitridate_.

But the most astonishing of all these nicknames was that given to Lucrezia Aguiari, who, being a natural child, was called publicly, in the playbills and in the newspapers, _La b.a.s.t.a.r.dina_, or _La b.a.s.t.a.r.della_.

Catarina, called Gabrielli, a singer to be ranked with the Faustinas and Cuzzonis, naturally became disgusted with her appellation of _la cocchetta_ (little cook) as soon as she had acquired a little celebrity.

She accordingly a.s.sumed the name of Prince Gabrielli, her patron; Francesca Gabrielli, who was in no way related to the celebrated Catarina, keeping to that of _Ferrarese_, or _Gabriellina_, as she was sometimes called.