Tchaikovsky Research : Musical Chronicle. “Don Giovanni” and “Zora” on the Italian stage. Fifth Concert of the Russian Musical Society (TH 284)

Catalogue References:	TH 284 ; ČW 549 (as "Don Giovanni and Zora on the Italian Stage—The Fifth Concert of the Russian Musical Society").
Date:	by 16/28 January 1874.
Contents:	Concerning the Italian Opera Company's production of Mozart's Don Giovanni at the Moscow Bol'shoi Theatre on 8/20 January 1874, conducted by Enrico Bevignani and starring Antonio Cotogni in the title role, Anna d'Angeri as Donna Anna, Eugénie d'Alberti as Donna Elvira, and Julián Gayarre as Don Ottavio; a production of Rossini's Moïse et Pharaon (Zora) at the same theatre on 12/24 January 1874, starring Gayarre as Aménophis; and the 5th RMS symphony concert which took place in Moscow on 11/23 January 1874, conducted by Nikolai Rubinstein and featuring Schumann's Symphony No. 2 in C major, Op. 61, Robert Volkmann's Overture to Shakespeare's Richard III, two choral excerpts from César Cui's opera William Ratcliff (1869) as well as his Tartar Song, and Wilhelm Fitzenhagen's Ballade for cello and orchestra (with the composer as soloist).
Summary:	This article contains further reflections on the qualities which made Mozart's Don Giovanni "the model of an ideal opera for all times" (complementing Tchaikovsky's earlier tributes in TH 276 and TH 262); critical remarks about the 'theories' which had led Wagner and Dargomyzhskii (in The Stone Guest) to chase, in their different ways, after the shadow of "dramatic veracity" and to drive out the essential quality of musical beauty from their operas; ironic jibes at Stasov, Cui, and the 'Mighty Handful' for their idolization of The Stone Guest; an unexpectedly positive review of the Italian Opera Company's staging of Don Giovanni, ably conducted by Bevignani, and starring the great Spanish tenor Gayarre as Don Ottavio; an enthusiastic description of Schumann's Second Symphony, which, along with the "Rhenish", Tchaikovsky considered to be his finest symphonic work; a damning verdict on Cui's activities as a music critic and on his lack of talent as a song composer, but also quite positive remarks about Cui's opera William Ratcliff and his Tartar Song.
Language:	Russian.
Autograph Location:	Lost.
First Publication:	Russian Register (Русские ведомости), Moscow, 16 January 1874 [O.S.], under the signature "B. L." [Б. Л.]

English text

In recent years the repertoire of the Italian Opera Company has been enlivened by two works, one of which occupies the first place amongst the operatic works of all times and nations, whereas the other felicitously brings together in one composition the finest qualities of a composer who to this day still enjoys great popularity, as well as receiving respectful attention from the critics. These two operas are Mozart's Don Giovanni and Rossini's Moïse et Pharaon, which here in Russia is performed under the title of Zora.

I have already spoken about Don Giovanni in detail with regard to the quite unsuccessful revival of this opera during the last season [1], and so I shall not say anything more now about the astounding beauty of this operatic work of genius. The hundredth anniversary of the first performance of Don Giovanni is not so far off now [2], and yet in all this space of time not a single opera has appeared which could be said to combine with comparable intensity such melodic gracefulness and inspiration, such wealth of harmonic accompaniment, such profoundly truthful musical characterization and well-rounded formal perfection.

What does it matter if the acolytes of Wagnerism or our own home-grown "operatic realists" [3] deny the great historical significance of Don Giovanni simply because, being an artist of genius who never curbed the flight of his musical inspiration for the sake of conventional notions of dramatic truth, Mozart gave free range to the organic expansion of his ideas into broadly conceived forms, regardless of the action on the stage?! For this almost hundred-year-old opera has maintained itself, with a success that is in fact still growing further daily, on all the opera stages of the civilized world, and it continues to afford the listener that full aesthetic pleasure which all the effects and thunder-claps used by the most representative modern operas will never be able to elicit to such an extent. Perhaps Mozart's music is so full of irresistible charm precisely for the very reason that he was himself the archetype of a spontaneously creating artist who has not been corroded by reflection [4].

Reflection is the death of inspiration. Just look at where the most recent attempts by contemporary composers to ground opera in a realistic reproduction of life have led to as they discarded the traditional forms in their pursuit of the phantoms of rationality and truth! [5]

Wagner, who has pledged himself to fight the abuses of vocal virtuosity, subordinates the singer to a whole orchestral regiment which not only takes away the limelight from the characters on the stage, but actually drowns out their voices.

Dargomyzhskii goes even further still: having decided to sacrifice musical beauty on the altar of wrongly understood notions of dramatic truthfulness, he not only takes away from the singer everything that makes singing attractive, but even deprives himself of the rich resources of musical expressivity. His 'opera' The Stone Guest, which is close to Mozart's Don Giovanni as far as the plot is concerned, is the lamentable fruit of a dry, purely rational process of invention, which can only bore to death the listener who seeks in art not that narrowly understood truth whereby a real apple is more tasty than a painted apple [6], but rather that higher artistic truth which springs forth from the mysterious depths of human creativity and pours out into clear forms that are comprehensible to everyone. Only the complacent, dilettante-like obtuseness of certain 'innovators' who are still waiting to be recognized as such and have for the time being sheltered themselves in the feuilleton of the Saint Petersburg Register, is capable of proclaiming, with an earnestness that is quite comic, the last work by the highly gifted Dargomyzhskii to be a paragon of modern operatic composition, ranging it amongst the all-time greatest works in the genre of opera [7].

The music of Don Giovanni is, as it were, like a string of untold pearls, each one of them filled with such musical inspiration that everything written before and after this opera must necessarily pale before their splendour. From whichever angle one sets about analyzing this unique, inimitably beautiful opera, one can only prostrate oneself in amazement before the greatness of human genius which shines forth from it.

Those who love sweet and graceful melodies will dwell on the wondrous duet in Act I between Don Ottavio and Donna Anna, who is grieving over her father's death and already calling for revenge, as well as on the duet between Don Giovanni and Zerlina, the arias of Donna Elvira, Zerlina, and Donna Anna, and of course Don Giovanni's famous serenade.

The enthusiast of musical declamation, which Gluck in his time developed to so remarkable a degree of perfection, will find in Donna Anna's recitatives such a staggering pathos, combined with enchantingly beautiful harmonies and modulations, such strength and power of tragic expressivity, that all the attractive features of Gluckian recitative are quite eclipsed by them.

Whether one concentrates one's attention on the ensemble scenes, on the intensification of the musical and dramatic pace in the finales, on the instrumentation, on the art of writing vocal music taking into account the qualities of the human voice so that it can be sung comfortably, or whether one looks above all for mastery in musical characterization—all these demands are satisfied in abundance by Don Giovanni, which will always serve as the model of an ideal opera for as long as art continues to exist.

As for this particular performance of Don Giovanni, I should first of all say that overall it was much better than might have been expected, bearing in mind last year's staging and also the system of our Italian Opera Company, which only allows for one rehearsal of each opera. One must give full credit to the conscientiousness and diligence of the conductor, Signor Bevignani, who in such a short space of time managed to rehearse this huge opera so well that during the whole performance there was not a single slip-up—not even a momentary one.

The orchestra's playing was clean and full of enthusiasm and fire. The choruses sang with such a degree of confidence and reliability as one would never have expected from them. As for the soloists, the most successful performances were by Messrs Cotogni [8] and Gayarre [9]. Signor Cotogni performed the title role with great elegance, thoughtfulness, and sensitivity, whereby his singing of the serenade in Act III [10] produced the greatest impression. Señor Gayarre, of whom until now I have not yet had the opportunity to speak with the warm sympathy which he deserves, moved the colourless role of Don Ottavio very much into the foreground through his intelligent interpretation and the youthfully appealing timbre of his voice. When listening to this magnificent singer, I could not help smiling to myself about the talentless Signor Masini's [11] caricature-like performance of the role of Don Ottavio last season. What a ghastly distortion of Mozart's music that was!

Signor Catagni as Leporello rather over-did his acting—something that is, by the way, characteristic of every Italian basso buffo—but otherwise sang quite well. Of the female members of the cast, great praise is due to Mme d'Angeri [12], for whose benefit this performance of Don Giovanni had been put on, and who sang the extremely difficult role of Donna Anna; as well as to Mme d'Alberti [13], who gave a very delightful and conscientious performance as Donna Elvira.

The first of these two singers has a magnificent voice, even though it does shown signs of fatigue to the extent that she cannot produce a single note without excessive vibrato. She puts a lot of effort into her acting, but lacks a truly outstanding talent in this respect, and, indeed, it must be said that such a major role as Donna Anna is on the whole beyond the powers of Mme d'Angeri, although one can certainly not deny this singer's musicality, intelligence, and sensitivity.

As for Mme d'Alberti, I think one can positively say that the unjustly cruel treatment which Don Giovanni metes out to his deserted wife (performed here by the aforementioned soprano) is by no means as bad as our public's inhumanly harsh attitude towards Mme d'Alberti. Her singing is clean, elegant, expressive, and generally shows that she has worked very hard on the role, but still there were certain strict 'connoisseurs' in the audience who zealously tried to hiss her off the stage after each aria she sang. Oh, if these catcallers only knew how many tears, how much bitterness and humiliation they inflict in this way on the artists whom they have taken a disliking to for no real reason! I don't know whether these lines will ever be read by the singer who was so unjustly pursued by the audience's hate, but I do wish it were so. For it would perhaps afford some consolation to Mme d'Alberti to know that a small minority did appreciate her fine qualities.

Rossini's opera Moïse et Pharaon was staged as a benefit performance for Signor Foli [14], and, despite the fact that the production was not an all-round success, it did cause a very favourable impression. Of the soloists, Señor Gayarre again showed himself to great advantage, and in the famous duet in Act II he astonished everyone by the passion, strength, and genuine warmth of his performance.

Now I shall move on to the fifth symphony concert of the Russian Musical Society, which took place last Friday. The programme consisted of Volkmann's overture to Richard III, some choruses by Mr Cui, a cello concerto by Mr Fitzenhagen, and Schumann's Second Symphony. Together with the Third, the Second Symphony represents the crowing achievement of Schumann's symphonic oeuvre and belongs to the most brilliant middle period of his career as a composer. The depth of the musical ideas in this symphony, its formal beauty and the broadness and plasticity of its conception are truly amazing.

The first movement opens with an enchantingly poetic Introduction, based on a short fanfare-like theme which is accompanied by a mysterious fluttering in the strings and interrupted later by a delightfully melodic episode, in which one seems to hear a kind of pleading lament. Then the Introduction leads gradually up to the tempestuous and passionate Allegro with its original, sharply accented rhythm. The Scherzo, with its two contrasting trios, is very graceful and lively.

In the Andante [15] the touching cantabile melody with its extraordinarily beautiful design and—quite unusually for Schumann—strikingly effective instrumentation (violin trills in the highest register accompanying the clarinet's singing), produces an indelible impression. The Finale is the least successful movement, although its middle section, with its elaboration of themes from the preceding movements, presents us with wonders of polyphonic development, albeit applied to material which is essentially quite meagre.

The other orchestral work at this concert was Volkmann's overture to Shakespeare's tragedy Richard III [16]—a piece which shows its author to be an intelligent and experienced composer, albeit one who is not endowed with great originality of invention. This overture is, however, distinguished by an incredible mastery of instrumentation.

Mr Cui enjoys a considerable reputation, especially in Saint Petersburg, though not so much as a composer as in his capacity of a critic who, for many years now, has been astounding the reading public both with the sharpness of his verdicts and opinions, in which there is a complete absence of any underlying principles whatsoever, and by the self-satisfied ignorance with which, at one stroke of his pen, he topples century-old authorities from their pedestal and installs in their place a couple of friends from his circle who are occupying themselves with composition.

As a composer, Mr Cui has appeared before the public in Saint Petersburg with an opera—William Ratcliff—that didn't have any success and was soon dropped from the repertoire. Apart from that, Mr Cui has also written a few songs, which drag out an obscure existence on the shelves of music-shops and are very unlikely ever to be picked up from there and brought out into broad daylight. Despite their complete musical insignificance—for musically they are no more than aimless beating of the air—they have been written with a highly comic pretension to pathos and passion, as a result of which neither specialists nor dilettantes could possibly take a liking to them.

As for Mr Cui's opera, despite the fact that it lacks the verve of true inspiration, despite its motley style—so that it reminds one now of Auber, now of Glinka, of Schumann, of Berlioz, and then suddenly of Mendelssohn or Dargomyzhskii—it nevertheless does testify to the author's indisputable taste and talent, even if the latter is not particularly original and graceful. Of the two excerpts which were performed at the Musical Society's concert, I especially liked the short female chorus, which is melodically and harmonically very elegant and also delightfully scored.

It is a great pity that the Muscovite public will not have the opportunity to get to know the finest numbers from William Ratcliff, which are unsuitable for a concert performance—I mean such numbers as the first chorus, the Narrative of the Earl of Douglas, Mary's charming little Romance in Act I, a few passages in the Scene by the Black Stone, and, in particular, the duet between Mary and Ratcliff in the final act. Apart from the two aforementioned excerpts, of which the second bears a striking similarity to Auber's style, we also heard a Tartar Song, also by Mr Cui, which is very characteristic in terms of its rhythmic design and harmony.

Mr Fitzenhagen, who appeared in a two-fold role at this concert, as both composer and performer, achieved a great success. Mr Fitzenhagen's Ballade testifies to the great progress he has made as a composer since he played us his first cello concerto some three years ago—a work that was formally very awkward and also poor in content. In his Ballade there are many highly interesting details and beautiful melodic ideas, of which I particularly liked the energetic and passionate theme of the Allegro, which is then elaborated on with great care by the author. Mr Fitzenhagen thoroughly overcame the technical difficulties of his own work and played with such verve and enthusiasm that he was rewarded with unanimous applause at the end.

Musical Chronicle. "Don Giovanni" and "Zora" on the Italian stage. Fifth Concert of the Russian Musical Society

Музыкальная хроника. «Дон-Жуан» и «Зора» на итальянской сцене. Пятый концерт Русского музыкального общества

English text

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