Part 16

It is very difficult, however, to judge an artist and estimate fairly his talent on the strength of a single work. The score of _Mephistopheles_ can only give an idea of the author's tendencies, only serve to indicate his temperament and his artistic nature. It is insufficient to permit of classifying him, and of fixing his place among contemporary composers. If Boito continues to preserve the obstinate silence which he has preserved now for quarter of a century, his fugitive dramatic passage can only be regarded as an accident in the musical history of this century. If he decides at length to shake off his idle inclination and break that silence by offering to the public that _Nerone_ which has been so long talked about, and at which he works so slowly, perhaps it will be possible to form a rational opinion of his worth and of his personality. Until then, criticism will be very difficult and will run a great risk of going astray.

[Illustration: Arthur Pougin]

[Illustration: GIOVANNI SGAMBATI

_Reproduction of a photograph from life by A. Manfredi & Co., Turin._]

[Illustration]

GIOVANNI SGAMBATI

For what he has done as composer, pianist, and conductor, and because of the strong and wholesome influence that he has exerted upon the musical life of his countrymen, the name of Giovanni Sgambati will be an honored one in the history of Italy for the last half of this century. His influence has been not less potent from the fact that his writings and concert performances have been unconnected with the stage. Italy is no longer what it was, essentially the greatest land of opera; its glory has largely departed, the mighty music-dramas of Richard Wagner and, in a lesser degree, the works of Meyerbeer, Gounod, Bizet, Massenet, Tschaïkowsky, Goldmark and others, having over-shadowed all of the Italian operas excepting one or two by Bellini and Rossini, the later and greater works of Verdi, and the "Mefistofele" of Boito, and it is to-day much more natural than formerly for an Italian who is called to high musical work to turn to that kind of composition in which the fame of the greatest masters has been made. While a strong liking, and even preference, for opera will always characterize the Italians, it is certain that a taste for symphonic and chamber-music is gradually being acquired, as the knowledge of these forms becomes more common. As forwarding this work, the names of Bazzini and Martucci should also be mentioned.

Sgambati has been obliged in a fashion to make his public, but it is at any rate a very different one from that of years gone by, to which the Herz variations and the Thalberg and early Liszt operatic fantasias represented the highest form of pianoforte music, and for which the Mercadante, Bellini, Donizetti and the first Verdi operas were composed. In his success in accomplishing this educational result is to be found a lesson for all artists who, from lack of conviction or of courage, are tempted to let mediocrity have its way, and not to strive for the higher cultivation of music, wherever their lot may place them.

Giovanni Sgambati was born in Rome, May 28th, 1843, his mother being English, the daughter of Joseph Gott, a sculptor who had for many years lived in Rome, and his father an advocate. It was intended that he should pursue his father's profession, but his strong and evident talent for music determined it otherwise. He studied, as a boy, pianoforte playing and harmony with Natalucci, a pupil of Zingarelli, and from an early age we find him singing in church, playing in public, conducting small orchestras and composing to a certain extent. In 1860 he settled in Rome, quickly becoming known for his pianoforte playing, and especially for the solid and classical character of his programmes; for Italian taste and music had not at that time begun to show their later divergence from the old ideals. Rossini was still living and productive; Bellini and Donizetti had so far shown no signs of becoming old-fashioned.

Beethoven, Chopin, Schumann and, best of all, Bach and Handel were Sgambati's favorite authors, by means of whom he sought to purify and educate the taste of his audiences. Shortly afterwards, just when he was on the point of going to Germany to continue his studies, Liszt came to Rome. His plans were changed, for from this time Liszt was his teacher, and he was able to work long and well under that wise, authoritative and suggestive guidance, to which, doubtless, is owing much of the consummate mastery in pianoforte playing for which he is famous, although his style of composition seems to have been little affected by Liszt's influence. Sgambati is well-known to be one of the greatest exponents of the Liszt school, and from all accounts, in his playing there is also present that same feeling for formal and sensuous beauty which is to be found in his compositions; a most interesting account of him as a pianist and teacher is to be found in Bettina Walker's "My musical experiences"; the story is told in such a charming and personal way as to give a capital idea, both of the man and the musician.

Besides his other concerts, we find him also at this time giving orchestral ones, at which some of the great symphonies were heard for the first time in Rome. In 1869 he and Liszt made a visit to Germany together, Sgambati making his first acquaintance with Wagner's music at Munich: it was some years later, in 1877, that through Wagner's recommendation his pianoforte quintets were published by Schott of Mayence. It is interesting to read, in this connection, a part of a letter which Wagner wrote in November, 1876, to Dr. Strecker, the head of the firm of Schott. It has been published, with Sgambati's permission, in Miss Walker's book, and is here taken from it.

"But, to say the truth, my letter of to-day has another end in view, namely, to commend to you most earnestly for publication two quintets (pianoforte and stringed instruments) composed by Signor Sgambati, of Rome. Liszt had already, and in a most especial and emphatic manner, called my attention to this distinguished composer and pianist. I recently had the genuine and extreme pleasure of, for once, coming into contact with the possessor of a truly great and original talent--a talent which, as he is in Rome [?!], and therefore possibly a little out of place, I would gladly be the means of introducing to the wider musical circle of the world at large."

In 1886 he was made one of the five corresponding members of the French Institute to fill the place vacated by the death of Liszt.

As a pianoforte teacher, he has been from the first one of the leading men, being a professor at the Academy of St. Cecilia at Rome, and has had a multitude of pupils, among them not a few Americans. To show the high standard that is maintained at the Academy, the requirements for a diploma are here quoted. The pupil must be prepared with the twenty-four preludes and fugues of the first book of the "Well-tempered Clavichord," with twenty-four studies from Clementi's "Gradus ad Parnassum," and must play some large modern piece by heart, read a manuscript composition at sight, and answer _vivâ voce_ questions in harmony and composition.

* * * * *

In his pianoforte compositions two features are salient: a remarkable feeling for melodic and harmonic refinement, with a clear and beautiful formal structure, and as a complement to these, an abhorrence of everything trite and common; this last trait, however, does not degenerate into affectation and ugliness.

Sgambati has published but little, probably partly on account of the severe self-criticism that is evident in his work, the result of which is seen in the qualities above mentioned. But this is not by any means to imply that his music is lacking in freshness or force; on the contrary, his best work has, which is not too common, a distinction of its own, and there is great vigor and strength in the pianoforte concerto and the symphony, his two works written in the largest form. As every musician, however, in thinking of Dvořák, Brahms, Tschaïkowsky, St. Saëns, etc., has always unconsciously in his mind certain characteristics that he associates with their music, without which it would not be theirs, so in Sgambati are we attracted by his great polish and refinement, as well as by a certain personal charm of manner that is always present (perhaps that is the Italian side of him).

Of vocal music, there have been published three sets of songs (Op. 1, 2, 19) and a cantata for one voice with orchestral accompaniment; of chamber music, there are two quintets for piano and strings (Op. 4 and 5) and a quartet for strings in the unusual key of D-flat major. Of these last, the first quintet, in F minor, is generally considered the most striking, but although it and its companion and the string quartet have made their way, it is by his pianoforte works that he is best known. They are: a Notturno (Op. 3); a strong and characteristic Prelude and Fugue (Op. 6); two Etudes (Op. 10); the "Fogli volanti" (Op. 12), several of which are peculiarly charming; the well-known and truly original Gavotte (Op. 14); four pieces; "Preludio," "Vecchio Minuetto," "Nenia," "Toccata" (Op. 18); "Three Nocturnes" (Op. 20); Suite (Op. 21); "Pièces Lyriques" (Op. 23), and the Concerto in G minor (Op. 15).

[Illustration: Fac-simile autograph and musical manuscript written by Sgambati.]

These pianoforte pieces do not cover a great number of pages, but in them we often feel something that is none too common, and that it is to be highly prized: we find a personality. It is easy now-a-days to be personal by being vulgar and obtrusive, but it is not so usual to find that quality combined with the reticence and knowledge that mark the finest work, and it is perhaps Sgambati's best trait that we do find that in his music. Most of the pieces are under the disadvantage of being less easy to play than they sound, and the opposite feature is so much liked by players that it is surprising that they have obtained popularity. The Gavotte is not run in the common mould, which has been so much employed for the turning out of numberless pieces of the old dance forms, but is piquant and interesting, and with its appropriate drone-like Musette, is as well-known as any; the "Fogli Volanti" has made many admirers for its author, while the "Vecchio Minuetto" and the "Toccata" from Op. 18, and the first of the Nocturnes (Op. 20) in especial are much played. The first study of Op. 10, in F-sharp minor, has especial interest to pianists in that a clever application is made in it of the system of pedal notation proposed by Hans Schmitt; in this desire to set down exactly what he wishes to express at the pianoforte, Sgambati exhibits a certain likeness to Sterndale Bennett, and indeed the two are somewhat akin in their musical way of thought.

The pianoforte concerto is written in a large style, especially the first movement, and has several portions that are striking and unusual; it is grateful for the player, and sure of success. The fact that three trombones are in the score would lead one to fear a certain over-doing of effect, but the brass is so judiciously used as to justify its presence; and in the symphony also the orchestration is skilful and well contrasted, good effects being often obtained by the use of but few instruments. The symphony has had varying fortunes, being received with great warmth in Italy and in London, but having the opposite fate when performed in New York; it was produced at a concert in the Quirinal, March 28, 1881, the King and Queen of Italy being in the audience, and the King conferred upon the composer the order of the Crown of Italy upon that occasion.

To sum up the characteristics of Sgambati's work: in him is found all the old respect for form and style that was once supreme, but that now is not so universally accepted; he is not fond of making dabs of contrasting colors and calling the result a picture, but everything with him must be well-drawn, and the values must be right. His melodies are clearly cut, their harmonization interesting, and with all his adherence to the classic models, there is so much individuality that his music is his own. It is interesting to find a leading composer of Italy so distinguished for sobriety and reticence, while for extravagance of expression we look to the new men of Germany, France and Russia. And, as Sgambati is still in the prime of life, with ripened powers, even more is to be hoped and expected from him than in the past.

Here follows a list of his published compositions:

Op. 1. Album of songs. Op. 2. Album of songs. Op. 3. Notturno for piano. Op. 4. Quintet for piano and strings in F minor. Op. 5. Quintet for piano and strings in G minor. Op. 6. Prelude and Fugue for piano in E flat minor. Op. 10. Two Etudes for piano. Op. 12. "Fogli Volanti" (pieces for piano). Op. 14. Gavotte for piano in A flat minor. Op. 15. Concerto for piano and orchestra in G minor. Op. 16. Symphony for orchestra in D major. Op. 17. String quartet in D flat major. Op. 18. Four pieces for piano: Preludio; Vecchio Minuetto; Nenia; Toccata. Op. 19. Songs. Op. 20. Three Nocturnes for piano. Op. 21. Suite for piano. Op. 23. Pièces Lyriques.

A second symphony is written, but not yet published.

[Illustration: Arthur Foote]

[Illustration: GIUSEPPE VERDI

_Reproduction of a photograph from life, by Bengue & Co., Paris._]

[Illustration: VERDI]

[Illustration]

GIUSEPPE VERDI

Giuseppe Verdi, the last representative of the long line of Italian opera composers of the old school, was born Oct. 10, 1813, at Roncole, a little group of dwellings about three miles distant from Busseto, and occupied by some two hundred impoverished and ignorant laborers. His origin was very humble, his parents being poor and the keepers of an insignificant inn and also of a small shop where were dispensed sugar, coffee, pipes, tobacco and liquor. Of Verdi's earliest infancy little is known. His surroundings were miserable enough, and the atmosphere in which he lived was not of a nature to foster art aspirations. As a child he was sad and taciturn, and showed no inclination to indulge in those amusements that are so eagerly enjoyed by youngsters generally. He manifested at a tender age that fondness for music which has been so often chronicled in this work of the youth of those who afterwards became famous as composers. His only enthusiasm was when an organ-grinder passed through the village, for then he could not be kept at home, but would follow the ambulant music-maker from place to place. This is almost all that is current regarding his earliest musical taste, and it is by no means an evidence of any abnormal partiality for music, since it is not rare in children to be attracted by street music even when the player is not a pied piper of Hamelin to draw them after him by a magic spell. However, the child Verdi must have borne other testimony to his instinctive love of music, for when we next hear of him it is as the owner of a spinet, which, by the way, is still in the composer's possession. He was then seven years old. That a poor innkeeper should have squeezed from his scanty earnings sufficient to buy his son such an instrument must be received, in absence of other proof, as evidence that his musical gifts were of a precocious order that caused them to be considered worthy encouragement. An old friend of Verdi's father has placed on record the earnestness with which the lad practised on this spinet. We are told that he was at first content with his ability to play the first five notes of the scale, and then busied himself in trying to combine the notes in chords, falling into a rapture of delight when he by chance sounded the major third and the fifth of C. We read, furthermore, that when he could not find the same chord again the next day he lost his temper, and seizing a hammer began to break the spinet to pieces, for which foreshadowing of a certain school of pianoforte playing that has since then come into vogue, he received an exemplary blow on the ear from his angry father. The next we hear of him is as a pupil of one Baistrocchi, the organist of the little church of Roncole, who had been engaged by Verdi's father to give the boy music lessons. At the end of a year the old story so often told of the youth of great artists was repeated. Baistrocchi confessed that the pupil had learned all that the teacher had to impart, and therefore young Verdi's connection with him ceased. As the boy was then only eight years old, the question is rather one regarding the extent of the pedagogue's knowledge than of the pupil's capacity. Be this as it may, two years later Verdi, at the age of ten, replaced Baistrocchi as organist of the church. His salary the first year was about $7.20 of our money. The second year it was increased by eighty cents and consequently amounted to $8.00, or a trifle over two cents a day!--certainly far from munificent. In the mean while Verdi had received no schooling, and his father thought it time to look after the lad's education. A cobbler who lived at Busseto and by name Pugnatta, agreed to give young Verdi board and lodging and to send him to the principal school in the town, in return for six cents a day to be paid by the elder Verdi. Extortionate charges were not the rule in and about the birthplace of the future composer of "Aïda," the "Manzoni Requiem" and "Falstaff." At school the boy studied industriously, and walked the three miles between Busseto and Roncole twice every Sunday and feast-day to play the organ at his church in the latter place. His wretched income was increased annually by some ten or twelve dollars, received from christenings, weddings and funerals; and at the annual harvest festival, when it was customary for the organist of the place to go about from door to door with a sack over his shoulder to make a collection for himself, he added a trifle to his finances. Such experiences were severe for a sensitive boy.

In two years at Busseto, while under the protection of the cobbler, whose lodger and ward he was, Verdi learned to read, write and cipher. About this time he made the acquaintance of a Signor Barezzi, who took a deep interest in him, gave him employment, and aided him in enlarging his musical knowledge. In the house of Barezzi the rehearsals and concerts of the Philharmonic Society of Busseto took place. Here, for the first time, Verdi had an opportunity to study music seriously. He attended all the rehearsals, and seemed so absorbed in his love for the art that Signor Ferdinando Provesi, who was the conductor of the concerts as well as chapel master and organist of the cathedral, took a fancy to him, and under his excellent guidance Verdi was led into a more serious course of study. Under Provesi, who was a good contrapuntist, a composer of numerous operas of which he was the author of both words and music, and who was, in addition, a man of wide reading, Verdi studied until he was sixteen years old. In the mean while he had improved rapidly, and he frequently replaced his master as organist at the cathedral and as conductor of the Philharmonic concerts. He likewise wrote numerous works, which he copied, taught and conducted himself. Nevertheless, as a composer he manifested no very brilliant precocity and no special genius. His talent for music was clearly indicated, but nothing has appeared to show that his early artistic development was akin to that of a Mozart, a Schubert, or a Mendelssohn.

At the age of sixteen it was thought advisable that he should go to Milan in order to study in the conservatory there. His own means did not encourage any hope of realizing this step forward. However, Signor Barezzi came to the front again and induced the Monte di Pietà, an institution with a fund to assist promising young men without means in the study of art or science, to award Verdi six hundred francs a year for two years. To this Barezzi added the funds for music lessons, and for board and lodging in Milan. Under these encouraging conditions Verdi went on his way to Milan, where he arrived in due season, full of hope and enthusiasm; and with this incident ended the least interesting and the most painful period of the young composer's life: not that he did not suffer afterward, for his first experience in Milan was a very discouraging one; but he was never again to know the extreme misery of poverty and obscurity that had colored his life up to that time.