Review of Le Prophete from The Times of London/

Review of Le Prophete from The Times of London, Wednesday July 25, 1849

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The following is the long review (from the London Times- Wed. July 25,1849) of the first performance (Tuesday July 24, 1849) of Meyerbeer's, Le Prophete in London, at the Royal Italian Opera, Covent Garden. As was customary in London during the mid-19th century period opera was performed in Italian despite the language of the world premiere performance which of course in the case of Le Prophete was French since its premiere was in Paris three months earlier on April 6, 1849.

Meyerbeer directed the arrangements probably from Paris and apparently oversaw the Italian translation. Could he read Italian? -- he had certainly spent time Italy.

Note: The up front section of the review contains an in-depth outline of the plot and dramatic action. This might benefit anybody going to Vienna for the May 1998 production to see how different the plot/staging details are managed in the 20th century production vis-a-vis the Meyerbeer supervised (from Paris) version of 149 years earlier.

Bust of Meyerbeer at Vienna Staatsoper (Lynne Price)

This review was most probably written by James W. Davison, who was music critic of the Times from 1846 to 1878. He would have been about 36 years old at the time he wrote the review. He was also Editor (along with Desmond Ryan, who was asst. editor) for forty years of the Music World,(1831-1891) an important 19th century weekly magazine published in London. He was a contributor to Musical Magazine another London publication of the same period. However, for this publication he wrote under the "pen" name of Arthur Pendragon.

Basil F. Walsh

Boynton Beach, Florida (April 7, 1998)

The Times

London, Wednesday, July 25, 1849

Royal Italian Opera

Last night Madame Pauline Viardot Garcia made her first appearance this season, when the long expected opera of the Prophete was produced, with entire success, in the presence of an audience that filled to excess every part of the house.

The hero of the story is John of Leyden, the famous impostor--a creature of the Anabaptist sect--who was executed in Munster, after his defeat by the bishop of that city in 1536. Scribe, the author of the libretto, has taken part of his materials from history, and invented the rest. Altogether he has made a musical drama, which is dramatic interest and variety of incident, has scarcely been surpassed even by himself. The opera, as played last night, is divided into four acts. The first act is subdivided into two parts, between which the curtain does not drop. In the first part we find three delegates of the sect of Anabaptists, Zacharia, Jonas and Mathisen, endeavouring to persuade the inhabitants of the town of Dordrecht to revolt against their feudal Sovereign, the Count d'Oberthal. the vassals, excited by the eloquence of these men--whom they believe to be sent from Heaven--grasp their arms, and are proceeding to the castle, when the Count appears, accompanied by soldiers, and speedily quells the the tumult. Bertha, a vassal of Oberthal, is betrothed to Jean, an innkeeper of Leyden, and accompanied by Fides, the mother of Jean, demands the Count's consent for the marriage; by Oberthal, touched by the beauty of Bertha, refuses his permission, and orders his soldiers to convey her to the castle. The three Anabaptists take advantage of the confusion to renew their incitements to revolt. The second part of the first act opens at the inn belonging to Jean, where a number of soldiers and peasants are engaged in dancing and singing.

In the middle of this the Anabaptists arrive, and are struck by the intelligent physiognomy of Jean and his resemblance to the portrait of a prophet in the gallery at Munster. They instantly conceive the idea of making him sub servant to their purposes, but find him indifferent to their appeal. Jean is wholly engrossed with his love for Bertha and his approaching marriage, and waits in anxious expectation for the return of his mother and his betrothed. Bertha who has found means to escape from the Count d'Oberthal, soon makes her appearance, and disclosing the outrage that has been committed on her, claims protection from the Count's retainers.

Shortly after, however, the Count himself appears with Fides as prisoner, and threatens Jean that, unless he gives up Bertha, his mother shall be sacrificed. After some hesitation Jean sacrifices his love to filial affection, and delivers up Bertha to her pursuers. Driven to desperation by this act of self-denial, and in spite of the attempted consolation of his mother, Jean, with a hope for future retribution, agrees to join the Anabaptists and after a brief consultation departs with them secretly.

In the second act the action almost stands still. The scene is in Westphalia, where the Anabaptists have pitched their camp in a forest. A battle has just occurred, during which they have just taken some prisoners, amongst whom is Count d'Oberthal, who is about to be sacrificed by the three fanatics, when John of Leyden interposes to save his life. The soldiers being dissatisfied, the Prophet promises to lead them against Munster, and the scene concludes with a display of martial enthusiasm. The interest of the act is chiefly concentrated in the ballet, which is illustrative of the amusement of the insurgents and the peasants, who supply them with provisions and make merry with dancing and other games upon the frozen waters of a lake contiguous to the camps.

The third act includes the grandest dramatic point of the opera. The scene is Munster. the city is taken by the insurgents, and John of Leyden, the Prophet, is about to be crowned Emperor of Germany. In the midst of the ceremony, which takes place in the cathedral, with vast pomp and magnificence, a beggar woman mingles with the crowd unnoticed. This is Fides, Jean's mother, who has come to Munster, accompanied by Bertha, his betrothed, to effect the destruction of the Prophet, of whose identity they are unaware, but with whose deeds of blood and carnage they have been made acquainted. The chief point of their resentment, however, is the conviction that he has been the cause of John of Leyden's death. While the ceremony of the coronation is proceeding the beggar woman utters imprecations on the Prophet's name; but as John of Leyden descends the throne, clothed in his imperial robes, Fides recognizes her son, and expresses her astonishment in an exclamation that is heard by the whole assembly. The consternation is general, and the Prophet, threatened with the discovery of his imposture, is at a loss to extricate himself. He soon invents an expedient, however, and proclaiming the woman mad, declares his power to cure her by a miracle. He addresses her kindly, and begs her to acknowledge her mistake or her deception, appealing to those around him to plunge their daggers in his bosom, if, when he has put the question to her, she does not deny all knowledge of his. Fides, staggered by his resolution, answers his query by a negative, wildly exclaiming that she is childless and never had a son. The crowd are persuaded that a miracle has been achieved, and consign Fides to a dungeon, while John of Leyden, her son is more than ever glorified as a prophet.

In the fourth and last act we learn from three Anabaptists that the Emperor of Germany is about to besiege Munster, and to save their own lives they resolve upon betraying the Prophet and delivering him up to the enemy. In the meanwhile, however, Jean visits his mother in prison and moved by her reproaches pleads for her forgiveness, and resolves to abandon the life of imposition he has been pursuing, when Bertha enters the prison. Scarcely has the young maiden's joy, at meeting her lover once more, subsided, when an officer approaches and addresses John of Leyden with the title "Prophet." In despair at finding her lover the author of so many atrocious deeds, Bertha plunges a dagger into her heart, vowing, with her dying breath, that though she despises she cannot cease to love him, and prefers death to the dishonour entailed by his connection. Moved to distraction by this unexpected event Jean determines to put an end to himself, and in order to combine revenge upon his enemies with his own destruction summons the Anabaptists, Count d'Oberthal, and a number of their allies, to a great feast in the palace. Having taken precautions that none shall escape he contrives to set fire to the building, and Sardanapalus-like is devoured by the flames, in the midst of an orgy, which is rendered the more impressive by the sudden arrival of Fides, who true to the last to her maternal affection is resolved to perish with her son.

The deaths of Bertha and Fides are only incidents in this strange and ingenious drama which are likely to shock the inquiring analyst; but the catastrophe would be impossible without, and this must stand as Scribe's excuse.

On the whole we are disposed to regard the Prophete as the most equal as well as the most original opera of Meyerbeer. In the midst of what may be considered a pedantic display of a certain kind of learning--of which the characteristics are redundancy of harmonic combinations, and excessive modulation--there is no greater unity of style, a more evident simplicity of purpose, than in any other work of the author. The orchestration has all the peculiarities of the Robert and the Huguenots, but in the Prophete these peculiarities are no longer the experiments of a wayward genius, but the eccentricities of one thoroughly acquainted with the resources of his art.

Originality goes hand-in-hand with power, and what might otherwise be adjudged as mere extra vagrancy becomes pardonable, and even commendable, through the case with which is accomplished. As in the Huguenots Meyerbeer has gradually worked up the interest of his music until the third act (the fourth in Paris), where it reaches the highest point, but the last act of the Huguenots us by many degrees the weakest (musically speaking), while the last act of the Prophete contains some of the most striking pieces in the opera; in the preceding act attention is excited to the utmost, and in the last it is hardly abated. The anti-climax which robs the Huguenots of its claim to be regarded as a perfect work of its kind in the Prophete is thus happily averted.

Meyerbeer has always been careful to distinguish the various personages of his operas by contrasting the music they have to sing, but he has never, perhaps, been so successful in this particular as in the present work. The individuality of each character is preserved in the most elaborate concerted pieces as strongly as in the isolated songs, duets, and trios. The fragments of chant and the short solemn rhythm of the phrases allotted to the three Anabaptists are happily illustrative of those profound impostors, and even in the buffo trio, where two of them, Jonas and Zachariah, unwittingly enlist the Count d'Oberthal under their banner, and give way to the excitement of the goblet, as a mask to their sinister intentions, the characteristic quality of their music is but half concealed under the veil of boisterous hilarity in which the poet has represented them as indulging. The music of the Prophete, too, is equally graphic and equally well sustained. It develops, as plainly as Scribe himself has done the strange melee of enthusiasm, kindliness, credulity, and impulse of which the character of John of Leyden (according to the version of the dramatist) is compounded.

The bacchanalian air in the last scene, which he sings at the moment when, by his own designing, himself, his treacherous comrades, the three Anabaptists, his enemy Count d'Oberthal, and all the companions of his feigned debauchery, are about to be launched into eternity, has boldness of colouring that brings out in strong relief the energetic side of the Prophet's character. To the gentle Bertha Meyerbeer has given music that tallies with the graceful sincerity of her nature, while the Count d'Oberthal is invested with a savage sternness that flavours strongly of the obdurate despot, the haughty baron who regards his serfs and vassals much in the same light as he looks upon his dogs and horses.

But the masterpiece of the opera, and of Meyerbeer, is Fides the mother of the Prophet, the devoted martyr to her love of truth and her maternal affection. Fides has surpassed both Alice and Valentine, while retaining some of the characteristics of both, and that of self-sacrifice in particular. She is the grandest picture in the whole gallery of the French school of opera--a school which, by the way, in spite of its powerful contrasts and vivid dramatic colouring, we never can regard as the truest or the most effective. With the exceptions of a long duet with Bertha (act 3), much of which is composed of modern Italian clap-traps, and a scena di bravura (act 4), which, we humbly confess, altogether baffles our understanding, the Music of Fides is sustained with singular dignity and power. It is disengaged by a lofty earnestness of style, in which natural pathos and deep religious feelings are skillfully intermingled and moulded into dramatic exigencies of the scene with great art. In the scene of the coronation of the Prophet as Emperor of Germany, the character of Fides is illustrated with power that we have hitherto denied to Meyerbeer. Nothing can be more impressive than the one figure of truth amidst all this gallery of impostors--one pure heart scorning the empty pomp and glitter that surround it-- a mother, who, to save the life of her unhappy son, is compelled to own herself childless, and thus to utter the only lie that has ever stained a life of sincerity and truth. It is true this scene owes much of its effects to the superb acting of Madame Viardot, but it is not the less intrinsically powerful and touching.

We have preferred offering a general view of the music of the Prophet to entering into critical analysis of the various pieces, which, in the first place, is well nigh impossible to do satisfactorily after a single hearing, and in the next, compressed into reasonable limits, becomes little better than a tedious catalogue. We shall, therefore, having suffered our opinion of manner in which Meyerbeer has treated the subject, confine ourselves to signalizing some of the morceau in each act with the immediate beauties or the evident faults of which we were most impressed.

After a short instrumental symphony (the overture composed by Meyerbeer having been rejected here as at Paris) the curtain rises upon a rural scene in the environs of Dordrecht" in which a number of peasants and millers are engaged singing a pastoral chorus "La brezza e tranquilla." In the ritornella an echo is played by the clarinet, which has a pretty effect, and the chorus in itself, with its true(?) bass, and accompaniments of piccolo and triangle, is very fresh and characteristic, although suggesting an occasional reminiscence of the introductory chorus in William Tell. The approach of Zachariah, Jonas and Mathieson, the Anabaptists (Signori Marini, Polonini, and Mei), is indicated by a lugubrious symphony of bassoons and clarinets, which preface their chant, "Ad nos, at salutarem undam," a specimen of ecclesiastical harmony that might have issued from the laboratory of Byrde, Tallis, or any of the old English masters.

The chant, however, is in good keeping plays an important part--being frequently re-introduced, with new harmony and orchestration--and when sung precisely in tune must be very effective. A violin, placed behind the scenes instead of a bassoon, which fails of its purpose, to give, from time to time, the leading notes to the Anabaptists, could insure a general agreement as to pitch, and make this very essential con summation inevitable, which last night was by no means the case, more especially when the singers were placed at the back of the stage. A gradual and cleverly managed crescendo leads to a reprise of the chant, fortissimo, with choral reinforcement, followed by a noisy chorus, "All 'armi," accompanied by the full orchestra, which effectively concludes the introduction.

This chorus is brilliantly scored, but the prominence given to the cornet-a-pistons in the Anabaptists' apostrophe to liberty somewhat vulgarizes it. The excessive use of this instrument, so invaluable in its place (ballet music, for example) is a reigning vice among the present composers for he Academie Royal de Musique. The next thing worthy [of] notice is a duet in the pastoral style, in F, 6 8 measures "Della Mosa un di nell' onde," in which Bertha (Miss Catherine Hayes) and Fides (Madame Viardot) disclose to Count d'Oberthal (Signor Tagliafiaco) the intended nuptials of the former John of Leyden (Signor Mario). This is equally simple and pretty, and cannot fail to become a popular favourite; the voices are effectively treated, and the instrumentation is unusually delicate.

In the second part of the first act (the second act in Paris) there are several attractive pieces. A waltz and chorus in E, "Danziamo, ah si," has a rustic air about it that redeems it from common place. the dream of John of Leyden, "Sotto le vaste rcate, " is original, but singularity of its instrumentation, its frequent changes of key and measure, and its fragmentary shape prevents it from being at once intelligible. It is prefaced and interrupted by a beautiful phrase, afterwards introduced in the coronation scene, sung by the Anabaptists as a prophetic interpretation of the dream. The air, with harp accompaniment, "Un impero pia soave," which may be regarded as the coda of the dream, is graceful, but has no distinguishing characteristics. "O figlio mio," and arietta for Fides, in the unusual key of F sharp, is pathetic and expressive, the orchestral accompaniment by their plaintive character materially aiding the development of the feeling intended to be described. This is one of the favourite pieces in Paris, and well deserves its popularity. The act closes with a well written and effective, quartet for John of Leyden and the three Anabaptists, in which the former is persuaded to head the religious revolt, and personate the Prophet.

The second act opens with a solo and chorus in B minor of Mathisen and the Anabaptist troops, of a wild and savage character. This gives way to the ballet scene on the ice, which commences with a very beautiful and melodious chorus of soldiers and vivandieres in C, the former hailing the arrival of the women, the latter offering their wares for sale. The whole is full of bustle and character, skillfully combines the military and pastoral styles.

The ballet music, which as played here, includes three pieces,-- a Redova, a gallop and a quadrille of skaters,-- is exceedingly pretty, animated, and original, and graphically indicates the gaiety and confusion of the season. Meyerbeer, always happy in his dance music, is even more sparkling and brilliant than usual in this instance. But the most striking piece of music is in this act, and, indeed, one of the most able and characteristic compositions in the entire opera, is the comic trio in C major, "Di vostre bandiere," for Jonas, Zachariah, and Oberthal, to which we have alluded elsewhere. In this Meyerbeer has displayed a happy mixture of dramatic humor and contrapuntal cleverness; its difficulties, however, are very great, and nothing but entire familiarity on the part of the singers can insure the combination of dramatic and musical effect, which was requisite to give it the necessary point, and this, last night, was not always evident.

The second act concludes with a prayer and chorus in which Jean of Leyden appeases the discontented soldiery by an appeal to Heaven in favour of their expedition and against Munster. This is written somewhat low for the tenor voice, but is otherwise brilliant and effective. The coda, with the accompaniment of harps, where Jean, in a fit of religious enthusiasm, affects to see visions, is particularly striking. It is transposed a note higher than the original, to suit Mario's voice.

The third act is the most original, the most complete, and the most impressive in the opera. The chief parts of this are taken up by the most impressive in the opera. The chief part of this is taken up by the ceremonial of the coronation, but there is previously a very plaintive and beautiful air in E minor, "Pieta, pieta Signori," in which Fides takes alms for the purpose of buying a mass for her son, whom she supposes to have been murdered by the Prophet, and also the duet for Bertha and Fides, of which we have spoken. The opening of this duet, an agitato in G minor, is clever, and is followed by a melodious cantable in the major key for Bertha, but the remainder is unworthy of the beginning, being composed of a common place ensemble for the two voices, and a stretta, in the feeblest manner of the Donizetti school. The coronation is entirely developed in the finale, which we are disposed to consider the most admirable piece of concerted music ever written by Meyerbeer, It commences with a pompous and brilliant march, which is followed by a chorus for male voices—"Domine salvum" accompanied by chanting. This is sung behind the scenes, and is written the a different key of G flat, both which facts are at variance with the probability of it ever being sung completely in tune, even with the assistance of the ophicleide[sic] doubling the basses, as was the case last night. While an organ prelude (also behind the scenes) is going on, Fides sings the air in which she curses the Prophet, and the chorus in G flat is then resumed. The organ once more commences a prelude, when a group of young choristers enters and sings a graceful and lovely melody in D major, "Ecco gia il re Profeta," The mezzo-soprani and contralti in Paris were strengthened by the voices of boys in the chorus, but we presume such adjuncts were not to be had in London. The scene between the Prophet and Fides then follows, which is composed of a number of beautiful fragments, solo, concerted, and choral, connected with great dramatic skill, and worked up with ever increasing interest, until the grand climax of the finale worthily concludes the whole. In point of dramatic effect, skillful combination, and variety of instrumental colouring, this finale is quite equal, if not indeed superior, to the fourth act of the Huguenots.

The last act contains the bravura scene for Fides, in which she condemns and then forgives her son; the duet between her and the Prophet, in which the latter abjures his imposition, and obtains forgiveness; the trio for Fides, Bertha, and Jean, involving the catastrophe of Bertha's death; and the fete scene the principal point in which is the spirited bacchanal, "Beviam, e intoro giri," with which the Prophet exultingly prefaces his passage to eternity. The general character of these pieces have been hinted in our prefatory remarks.

Madame Viardot's impersonation of Fides is one of the highest exhibitions of dramatic and musical art that has been witnessed on the lyric stage. The character is developed with consummate skill, and is gradually worked up, as the interest of the drama and the music progresses, from the quiet contentedness of the humble peasant to the tragic grandeur of the devoted heroine whom fate and circumstances have forced above her ordinary nature. All her scenes were true and effective, but in that of the coronation of the Prophet she was little less than sublime. The curse, uttered with thrilling earnestness, produced an evident sensation; but this was raised into the most unlimited admiration, when at her son's command, unknowing his intent she tremblingly kneels before and looks up into his face with a regard of mingled stupor and commiseration that were irresistibly touching. And when at length, divining his meaning, she declares that he is not her son, and owns [sic] herself to have uttered a falsehood, her demeanour was most impressive, her despair quite appalling. We have no time to enter into details at present about Madame Viardot's singing, but it is enough to say that it was admirable throughout, that the bravura air of the fourth act was a grand piece of energetic execution, and that in the pathetic and brilliant styles she was equally good and equally delighted the audience, who received her on her first entry with a warm and unanimous burst of congratulation, and applauded her enthusiastically in all her efforts. Mario's Prophet was one of the most picturesque and forcible of his impersonations. In the coronation scene his aspect and bearing were highly impressive, and he wore his robes with all the dignity of an Emperor. His acting throughout intelligent, full of dramatic point, and effectively aided the exertions of Madame Viardot, with whom he fairly divided the applause. Nothing could be better than his singing in the fourth and fifth acts, in which the most effective, if not the most brilliant, of the music allotted to the Prophet occurs. We must be content to mention that Miss Catherine Hayes was a very graceful Bertha, and sang her music with unfailing care; that Tagliafico was highly efficient as Oberthal, and that Marini, Polonini and Mei did their best for the trying and somewhat ungrateful music of the Anabaptists.

The chorus and orchestra came in for the usual honours. The march in the coronation scene was so splendidly performed as to obtain a distinct round of applause, which for a moment suspended the business of the scene. Among the choruses most worthy of mention we must cite the Ecco gia il re Profeta," for female voices, which was admirably executed, unusual proficiency being secured by the valuable aid of mademoiselles Cobari and De Meric as the principal mezzo-soprano and contralto. Mr. Costa was immensely applauded on taking his seat in the orchestra, and never did this able and indefatigable director more thoroughly deserve the good opinion of the public. The task he had achieved will scarcely be credited by foreign musicians, which we must regard as an act little short of insanity the attempt to get up in two rehearsals an opera which took no less than 16 at the Paris Grand Opera, under the immediate superintendence of the composer. Of course perfection is impracticable at so short a notice, but what was effected was quite astonishing.

No opera has been produced at the Royal Italian Opera with more care and splendour than the Prophete. The scenery, the costumes, the ballet, and the general stage business, are all of the most complete and satisfactory kind; and Messrs. Grieve and Teibin, Mr. Harris and Signor Casati, are all entitled to commendation. It is impossible to enter into particulars at so late an hour, but we may mention the skating scene in the forest of Westphalia, the coronation in the Cathedral, and the banquet in the last act, with the final conflagration, as all excellent in their kind. In the ballet which was well got up, and much applauded, Madame and Signor Casati danced the principal pas. The opera went off throughout with the greatest spirit. Madame Viardot and Signor Mario were recalled at the end of the two last acts and received with enthusiastic cheering, accompanied by flowers of bouquets for the lady. An unanimous call was then made for Mr. Costa, who appeared amidst the loud applause of the entire audience.

END.

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