we are doing something for them by placing such models before them.

The young composers who were thus politely invited to be seated included, among others, Bizet, Delibes, Ma.s.senet, and the writer of these lines. Ma.s.senet and I would have been satisfied with writing a ballet for the Opera. He proposed the _Rat Catcher_ from an old German tale, while I proposed _Une nuit de Cleopatra_ on the text of Theophile Gautier. They refused us the honor, and, when they consented to order a ballet from Delibes, they did not dare to trust him with the whole work.

They let him do only one act and the other was given to a Hungarian composer. As the experiment succeeded, they allowed Delibes to write, without a.s.sistance, his marvellous _Coppelia_. But Delibes had the legitimate ambition of writing a grand opera. He never reached so far.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Paris Opera]

Bizet and I were great friends and we told each other all our troubles.

"You're less unfortunate than I am," he used to tell me. "You can do something besides things for the stage. I can't. That's my only resource."

When Bizet put on the delightful _Pecheurs de Perles_--he was helped by powerful influences--there was a general outcry and an outbreak of abuse. The Devil himself straight from h.e.l.l would not have received a worse reception. Later on, as we know, _Carmen_ was received in the same way.

I was, indeed, able to do something beside work for the stage, and it was just that which closed the stage to me. I was a writer of symphonies, an organist and a pianist, so how could I be capable of writing an opera! The qualities which go to make a pianist were in a particularly bad light in the greenroom. Bizet played the piano admirably, but he never dared to play in public for fear of making his position worse.

I suggested to Carvalho that I write a _Macbeth_ for Madame Viardot.

Naturally enough he preferred to put on Verdi's _Macbeth_. It was an utter failure and cost him thirty thousand francs.

They tried to interest a certain princess, a patron of the arts, in my behalf. "What," she replied, "isn't he satisfied with his position? He plays the organ at the Madeleine and the piano at my house. Isn't that enough for him?"

But that wasn't enough for me, and to overcome the obstacles, I caused a scandal. At the age of twenty-eight I competed for the _Prix de Rome_!

They did not give it to me on the ground that I didn't need it, but the day after the award, Auber, who was very fond of me, asked Carvalho for a libretto for me. Carvalho gave me _Le Timbre d'Argent_, which he didn't know what to do with as several musicians had refused to touch it. There were good reasons for this, for, despite an excellent foundation for the music, the libretto had serious faults. I demanded that Barbier and Carre, the authors, should make important changes, which they did at once. Then, I retired to the heights of Louveciennes and in two months wrote the score of the five acts which the work had at first.

I had to wait two years before Carvalho would consent to hear the music.

Finally, worn out by my importunities, they decided to get rid of me, so Carvalho invited me to dine with him and to bring my score. After dinner I went to the piano. Carvalho was on one side and Madame Carvalho on the other. Both were very pleasant and charming, but the real meaning of this friendliness did not escape me.

They had no doubts about what awaited them. Both really loved music and little by little they fell under the spell. Serious attention succeeded the false friendliness. At the end they were enthusiastic. Carvalho declared that he would have the study of the work begun as soon as possible; it was a masterpiece; it would have a great success, but to a.s.sure this success, Madame Carvalho must sing the princ.i.p.al part.

Now the princ.i.p.al part in _Le Timbre d'Argent_ is that of a dancer and the singer's part is greatly subordinate. To remedy this they decided to develop the part. Barbier invented a pretty situation to bring in the pa.s.sage _Bonheur est chose legere_, but that wasn't enough. Barbier and Carre racked their brains without finding any solution of the difficulty, for on the stage as elsewhere there are problems that can't be solved.

Between times they tried to find a dancer of the first rank. Finally, they found one who had recently left the Opera, although still at the height of her beauty and talent. And they continued to seek a way to make the part of Helene worthy of Madame Carvalho.

The famous director had one mania. He wanted to collaborate in every work he staged. Even a work hallowed by time and success had to bear his mark; much greater were his reasons for interpolating in a new work.

He would announce brusquely that the period or the country in which the action of the work took place must be changed. He tormented us for a long time to make the dancer into a singer on his wife's account. Later, he wanted to introduce a second dancer. With the exception of the prologue and epilogue the action of the piece takes place in a dream, and he took upon himself the invention of the most bizarre combinations.

He even proposed to me one day to introduce wild animals. Another time he wanted to cut out all the music with the exception of the choruses and the dancer's part, and have the rest played by a dramatic company.

Later, as they were rehearsing Hamlet at the Opera and it was rumored that Mlle. Nilsson was going to play a water scene, he wanted Madame Carvalho to go to the bottom of a pool to find the fatal bell.

Foolishness of this kind took up two years.

Finally, we gave up the idea of Mme. Carvalho's cooperation. The part of Helene was given to beautiful Mlle. Schroeder and the rehearsals began.

They were interrupted by the failure of the Theatre-Lyrique.

Shortly afterwards Perrin asked for _Le Timbre d'Argent_ for the Opera.

The adaptation of the work for the large stage at the Opera necessitated important modifications. The whole of the dialogue had to be set to music and the authors went to work on it. Perrin gave us Madame Carvalho for Helene and Faure for Spiridion, but he wanted to burlesque the part for the tenor and give it to Mlle. Wertheimber. He wanted to engage her and had no other part for her. This was impossible. After several discussions Perrin yielded to the obstinate refusals of the authors, but I saw clearly from his att.i.tude that he would never play our work.

About that time du Locle took over the management of the Opera-Comique.

He saw that Perrin, who was his uncle, had decided not to stage _Le Timbre d'Argent_ and asked me for it.

This meant another metamorphosis for the work and new and considerable work for the musician. And this work was by no means easy. Until this time Barbier and Carre had been as close friends as Orestes and Pylades, but now they had a falling out. What one proposed, the other systematically refused. One lived in Paris; the other in the country. I went from Paris to the country and from the country to Paris trying to get these warring brothers to agree. This going to and fro lasted all summer, and then the temporary enemies came to an understanding and became as friendly as ever.

We seemed to be nearly at the end of our troubles. Du Locle had found a wonderful dancer in Italy on whom we depended, but the dancer turned out not to be one at all. She was a _mime_, and did not dance.

As there was no time to look for another dancer that season du Locle, to keep me patient, had me write with Louis Gallet _La Princesse Jaune_, with which I made my debut on the stage. I was thirty-five! This harmless little work was received with the fiercest hostility. "It is impossible to tell," wrote Jouvin, a much feared critic of the time, "in what key or in what time the overture is written." And to show me how utterly wrong I was, he told me that the public was "a compound of angles and shadows." His prose was certainly more obscure than my music.

Finally, a real dancer was engaged in Italy. It seemed as though nothing more could prevent the appearance of the unfortunate _Timbre_. "I can't believe it," I said. "Some catastrophe will put us off again."

War came!

When that frightful crisis was at an end, the dancer was re-engaged. The parts were read to the artists, and the next day Amede Achard threw up his role, declaring that it belonged to grand opera and was beyond the powers of an opera-comique tenor. It is well known that he ended his career at the Opera.

Another tenor had to be found, but tenors are rare birds and we were unable to get one. To use the dancer he had engaged du Locle had Gallet and Guiraud improvise a short act, _Le Kobold_, which met with great success. The dancer was exquisite. Then du Locle lost interest in _Le Timbre d'Argent_ and then came the failure of the Opera-Comique.

During all these tribulations I was preparing _Samson_, although I could find no one who even wanted to hear me speak of it. They all thought that I must be mad to attempt a Biblical subject. I gave a hearing of the second act at my house, but no one understood it at all.

Without the aid of Liszt, who did not know a note of it, but who engaged me to finish it and put it on at Weimar, _Samson_. would never have seen the light. Afterwards it was refused in succession by Halanzier, Vaucorbeil, and Ritt and Gailhard, who decided to take it only after they had heard it sung by that admirable singer Rosine Bloch.

But to return to _Le Timbre d'Argent_. I was again on the street with my score under my arm. About that time Vizentini revived the Theatre-Lyrique. His first play was _Paul et Virginie_, a wonderful success, and he was preparing for the close of the season another work which he liked. They were kindly disposed to me at the Ministry of Fine Arts and they interested themselves in my misfortunes. So they gave the Theatre-Lyrique a small subsidy on condition that they play my work. I came to the theatre as one who has meddled and I quickly recognized the discomforts of my position. First, there was a search for a singer; then, for a tenor, and they tried several without success. I found a tenor who, according to all reports, was of the first rank, but, after several days of negotiation, the matter was dropped. I learned later from the artist that the manager intended to engage him for only four performances, evidently planning that the work should be played only four times.

The choice finally fell on Blum. He had a fine voice, and was a perfect singer but no actor. Indeed he said he didn't want to be an actor; his ideal was to appear in white gloves. Each day brought new bickerings.

They made cuts despite my wishes; they left me at the mercy of the insubordination and rudeness of the stage manager and the ballet master, who would not listen to my most modest suggestions. I had to pay the cost of extra musicians in the wings myself. Some stage settings which I wanted for the prologue were declared impossible--I have seen them since in the _Tales of Hoffman_.

Furthermore, the orchestra was very ordinary. There had to be numerous rehearsals which they did not refuse me, but they took advantage of them to spread the report that my music was unplayable. A young journalist who is still alive (I will not name him) wrote two advance notices which were intended to pave the way for the failure of my work.

At the last moment the director saw that he had been on the wrong tack and that he might have a success. As they had played fairyland in the theatre in the Square des-Arts-et-Metiers, he had at hand all the needed material to give me a luxurious stage-setting without great expense.

Mlle. Caroline Salla was given the part of Helene. With her beauty and magnificent voice she was certainly remarkable. But the pa.s.sages which had been written for the light high soprano of Madame Carvalho were poorly adapted for a dramatic soprano. They concluded, therefore, that I didn't know how to write vocal music.

In spite of everything the work was markedly successful, the natural result of a splendid performance in which two stars--Melchissedech and Mlle. Adeline Theodore, at present teacher of dancing at the Opera--shone.

Poor Vizentini! His opinion of me has changed greatly since that time.

We were made to understand and love each other, so he has become, with years, one of my best and most devoted friends. He first produced my ballet _Javotte_ at the Grand-Theatre in Lyons, which the Monnaie in Brussels had ordered and then refused. He had dreams of directing the Opera-Comique and installing _Le Timbre d'Argent_ there. Fate willed otherwise.

We have seen how the young French school was encouraged under the Empire. The situation has improved and the old state of affairs has never returned. But we find more than the a.n.a.logy between the old point of view and the one that was revealed not long ago when the French musicians complained that they were more or less sacrificed in favor of their foreign contemporaries. At bottom it is the same spirit in a modified form.

To resume. As everyone knows, the way to become a blacksmith is by working at a forge. Sitting in the shade does not give the experience which develops talent. We should never have known the great days of the Italian theatre, if Rossini, Donizetti, Bellini, and Verdi had had to undergo our regime. If Mozart had had to wait until he was forty to produce his first opera, we should never have had _Don Giovanni_ or _Le Nozze di Figaro_, for Mozart died at thirty-five.

The policy imposed on Bizet and Delibes certainly deprived us of several works which would now be among the glories of the repertoire at the Opera and the Opera-Comique. That is an irreparable misfortune; one which we cannot sufficiently deplore.

CHAPTER V

LOUIS GALLET

As _Dejanire_, cast in a new form, has again appeared in the vast frame of the Opera stage, I may be allowed to recall my recollections of my friend and collaborator, Louis Gallet, the diligent and chosen companion of my best years, whose support was so dear and precious to me.

Collaboration for some reason unknown to me is deprecated. Opera, it is said, should spring from the brain like Minerva, fully armed. So much the better if such divine intellects can be found, but they are rare and always will be. For dramatic and literary art on the one hand and musical art on the other require different powers, which are not ordinarily found in the same person.

I first met Louis Gallet in 1871. Camille du Locle, who was the manager of the Opera-Comique at the time, could not put on _Le Timbre d'Argent_, and while he waited for better days, which never came, to do that, he offered me a one-act work. He proposed Louis Gallet as my collaborator, although I had not known him until then. "You were made to understand each other," he told me. Gallet was then employed in some capacity at the Beaujon hospital and lived near me in the Faubourg Saint-Honore. We soon formed the habit of seeing each other every day. Du Locle had judged aright. We had the same tastes in art and literature. We were equally averse to whatever is too theatrical and also to whatever is not sufficiently so, to the commonplace and the too extravagant. We both despised easy success and we understood each other wonderfully. Gallet was not a musician, but he enjoyed and understood music, and he criticised with rare good taste.

j.a.pan had recently been opened to Europeans. j.a.pan was fashionable; all they talked about was j.a.pan, it was a real craze. So the idea of writing a j.a.panese piece occurred to us. We submitted the idea to du Locle, but he was afraid of an entirely j.a.panese stage setting. He wanted us to soften the j.a.panese part, and it was he, I think, who had the idea of making it half j.a.panese and half Dutch, the way the slight work _La Princesse Jaune_ was cast.