THE STANDARD OPERAGLASS

CHARLES ANNESLEY

LOHENGRIN

Romantic Opera in three acts by Richard Wagner

     This is the most popular of all Wagner’s operas. No need to say more about its music, which is so generally known and admired that every child in Germany knows the graceful aria where Lohengrin dismisses the swan, the superb bridal chorus, etc.
     Wagner again took his material from the old legend which tells us of the mystical knight Lohengrin (Veron of Percival), Keeper of the “Holy Grail.”
     The scene is laid near Antwerp, where “Heinrich der Vogler,” King of Germany, is just levying troops amongst his vassals of Brabant to repulse the Hungarian invaders. The King finds the people in a state of great commotion, for Count Frederick Telramund accuses Elsa of Brabant of having killed her young brother Godfrey, heir to the Duke of Brabant, who died a short time ago, leaving his children to the care of Telramund. Elsa was to be Telramund’s wife, but he wedded Ortrud of Friesland, and now claims the deserted Duchy of Brabant.
     As Elsa declares her innocence, not knowing what has become of her brother, who was taken from her during her sleep, the King resolves to decide by a tourney in which the whole matter shall be left to the judgment of God. Telramund, sure of his rights, is willing to fight with any champion who may defend Elsa. All the noblemen of Brabant refuse to do so, and even the King, though struck by Elsa’s innocent appearance, does not want to oppose his valiant and trustworthy warrior.
     Elsa alone is calm; she trusts in the help of the heavenly knight, who has appeared to her in a dream, and publicly declares her intention of offering to her defender the crown and her hand. While she prays, there arrives a knight in silver armor; a swan draws his boat. He lands; Elsa recognizes the knight of her dream, and he at once offers to fight for the accused maiden on two conditions : first, that she shall become his wife, and second, that she never will ask for his name and his descent.
     Elsa solemnly promises, and the combat be-gins. The strange knight is victorious, and Telramund, whose life the stranger spares, is, with his wife Ortrud, outlawed.
     The latter is a sorceress; she has deceived her husband, who really believes in the murder of Godfrey, while as a matter of fact she has abducted the child. In the second act we see her at the door of the Ducal palace, where preparations for the wedding are already being made. She plans vengeance. Her husband, full of remorse, and feeling that his wife has led him on to a shameful deed, curses her as the cause of his dishonor. She derides him, and rouses his pride by calling him a coward. Then she pacifies him with the assurance that she will induce Elsa to break her promise and ask for the name of her husband, being sure that then all the power of this mysterious champion will vanish.
     When Elsa steps on the balcony to confide her happiness to the stars, she hears her name spoken in accents so sad that her tender heart is moved. Ortrud bewails her lot, invoking Elsa’s pity. The Princess opens her door, urging the false woman to share her palace and her fortune. Ortrud at once tries to sow distrust in Elsa’s innocent heart.
     As the morning dawns, a rich procession of men and women throng to the Münster, where Elsa is to be united to her protector. Telramund tries vainly to accuse the stranger; he is pushed back, and silenced. As Elsa is about to enter the church, Ortrud steps forward, claiming the right of precedence. Elsa, frightened, repents, too late, having protected her. Ortrud upbraids her with not even having asked her husband’s name and descent. All are taken aback, but Elsa defends her husband, winning everybody by her quiet dignity.
     She turns to Lohengrin for protection, but, alas! the venom rankles in her heart.
     When they are all returning from church, Telramund once more steps forth, accusing Lohengrin, and demanding from the King to know the stranger’s name. Lohengrin declares that his name may not be told excepting his wife asks. Elsa is in great trouble, but once more her love conquers, and she does not put the fatal question.
     But in the third act, when the two lovers are alone, she knows no rest. Although her husband asks her to trust him, she fears that he may leave her as mysteriously as he came, and at last she cannot refrain from asking the luckless question. From this moment all happiness is lost to her. Telramund enters to slay his enemy, but Lohengrin, taking his sword, kills him with one stroke. Then he leads Elsa before the King, and loudly announces his secret. He tells the astounded hearers that he is the Keeper of the Holy Grail. Sacred and invulnerable to the villain, a defender of right and virtue, he may stay with mankind as long as his name is unknown. But now he is obliged to reveal it. He is Lohengrin, son of Percival, King of the Grail, and is now compelled to leave his wife and return to his home. The swan appears, from whose neck Lohengrin takes a golden ring, giving it to Elsa, together with his sword and golden horn.
     Just as Lohengrin is about to depart Ortrud appears, triumphantly declaring that it was she who changed young Godfrey into a swan, and that Lohengrin would have freed him, too, had Elsa not mistrusted her husband. Lohengrin, hearing this, sends a fervent prayer to Heaven, and loosening the swan’s golden chain, the animal dips under water, and in his stead rises God­frey, the lawful heir of Brabant. A white dove descends to draw the boat in which Lohengrin glides away, and Elsa falls senseless in her brother’s arms.

LORLE

Opera in three acts by Alban Foerster

Text by Hans Heinrich Schefsky

     With this opera its composer has made a lucky hit; it stands far higher than the “ Maidens of Schilda,” by dint of the charming subject, founded on Anerbach’s wonderful village story, “Die Frau Professorin.” This romance is so universally known and admired all over Germany that it ensures the success of the opera. The music is exceedingly well adapted to the subject ; its best parts are the “Lieder” (songs), which are often exquisitely sweet, harmonious, and refined. They realize Foerster’s prominent strength, and nowhere could they be better placed than in this sweet and touching story.
     Though the libretto is not very carefully written, it is better than the average performances of this kind, and with poetical intuition Schefsky has refrained from the temptation to make it turn out well, as Charlotte Birch-Pfeiffer has done in her play of Lorle, which is a weak counterpart of Auerbach’s village tragedy.
     The first representation of the opera took place in Dresden on June 18, 1891; it won the success it truly deserves.
     The first act, which is laid in a village of the Black Forest, represents the square before the house of the wealthy Lindenhost. He wishes his only daugther Lorle to marry a well-to-do young peasant named Balder, who loved her from her childhood. But Lorle rejects him, having lost her heart to a painter who had stayed in her father’s house, and who had taken her as a model for a picture of the Madonna which adorns the altar of the village church. Lorle’s friend Bärbele guesses her secret, and advises her to consult fate by wreathing secretly a garland of bluebells and reed grass. This wreath she is to throw into the branches of an oak, calling aloud the name of her lover. If the garland is stopped by the boughs, her wishes are fulfilled; if it falls back into the girl’s hands, she must give up hope for the year.
     Both maidens resolve to try their fate on the very same night, which happens to be St. John’s (midsummer night), the true night for the working of the charm.
     Meauwhile the Hussars arrive to carry away the newly enlisted peasants. The sergeant willingly permits a last dance, and all join in it heartily ; but when the hour of parting comes, the frightened Balder hides in an empty barrel. Unfortunately, his officer happens to choose this one barrel for himself, deeming it filled with wine. When it is laid on the car, the missing recruit is promptly apprehended.
     The scene changes now to one of sylvan solitude, through which two wanderers are sauntering. They are artists, and one of them, Reinhardt, is attracted to the spot by his longing for the sweet village flower, whom he has not forgotten in the whirl of the great world. Already he sees the windows of his sweetheart glimmer through the trees, when suddenly light footsteps cause the friends to hide behind a large oak tree. The two maidens who appear are Lorle and Bärbele. The former prays fervently, then throwing her garland, she shyly calls her lover’s name, Reinhardt. The latter stepping from behind the tree skilfully catches the wreath — and the maiden. This moment decides their fates ; Reinhardt passionately declares his love, while Walter amuses himself with pretty Bärbele, whose naïve coquetry pleases him mightily.
     The following act introduces us to Reinhardt’s studio in a German residence. A year has gone by since he wooed and won his bride; alas! he is already tired of her. The siren Maria, Countess of Matran, with whom he was enamored years ago, and whose portrait he has just finished, has again completely bewitched him.
     In vain Lorle adorns herself in her bridal attire at the anniversary of their wedding; the infatuated husband has no eye for her loveliness, and roughly pushes her from him. Left alone, the poor young wife gives vent to her feelings in an exquisite sigh of longing for her native country: “Hätt’ ich verlassen nie dich, meine Haiden” (“ Would I had never left thee, 0 my heath”).
     A visit from her dear Bärbele somewhat consoles her, and delights Walter, the faithful house-friend. Balder, Lorle’s old playmate, still recruit, also comes in and gladdens her by a bunch of heath-flowers. But hardly have they enjoyed their meeting when the Prince is announced, who desires to have a look at the Countess’s portrait. The rustic pair is hastily hidden behind the easel, and Lorle receives his Royal Highness with artless gracefulness, presenting him with the flowers she has just received. Her husband is on thorns, but the Prince affably accepts the gift, and invites her to a festival which is to take place in the evening. Then he looks at the picture, expressing some disappointment about its execution, which so vexes the sensitive artist that he roughly pushes the picture from the easel, thereby revealing the two innocents behind it. Great is his wrath at his wife’s imprudence, while the Prince exits with the Countess, unable to repress a smile at the unexpected event.
     There now ensues a very piquant musical intermezzo, well making up for the missing overture. The rising curtain reveals a brilliant court festival. Reinhardt has chosen the Countess for his shepherdess, while Lorle, standing a moment alone and heartsore, is suddenly chosen by the Prince as Queen of the fête. After a charming gavotte, the guests disperse in the various rooms. Only the Countess stays be­hind with Reinhardt, and so enthralls him that he forgets honor and wife, and falls at her feet, stammering words of love and passion. Unfortunately, Lorle witnesses the scene; she staggers forward, charging her husband with treason. The guests rush to her aid, but this last stroke is too much for the poor young heart; she sinks down in a dead faint.
     The closing act takes place a year later. Walter and Bärbele are married, and only Lorle’s sad fate mars their happiness. Lorle has returned to her father’s home brokenhearted, and grief for his only child has changed the old man sadly.
     Again it is midsummernight, and the father is directing his tottering steps to the old oak, when he is arrested by a solitary wanderer, whom sorrow and remorse have also aged considerably. With disgust and loathing he recognizes his child’s faithless husband, who comes to crave pardon from the wife he so deeply wronged. Alas! he only comes to see her die.
     Lorle’s feeble steps are also guided by her friends to the old oak, her favorite resting-place. There she finds her last wish granted ; it is to see Reinhardt once more before she dies, and to pardon him. The luckless husband rushes to her feet, and tries vainly to restrain the fast-ebbing life. With the grateful sigh, “He loves me,” she sinks dead into his arms, while a sweet and solemn choir in praise of St. John’s night concludes the tragedy.

LOVE’S BATTLE
(DER LIEBESKAMPF)

Opera in two acts

Music and Text by Erick Meyer-Helmund

     This young composer, whose first opera was brought on the stage in Dresden in the spring of 1892, has been known for several years to the musical world by his most charming and effective songs. That he has talent, even genius, is a fact which this opera again demonstrates, but the “making” is somewhat too easy, not to say negligent, and it reminds usof Mascagni, whose laurels are an inducement to all our young geniuses to “go and do likewise.” Even the plot, with its Corsican scenery, has a strong resemblance to “Cavalleria Rusticana.” Its brevity — both acts last but fifty minutes — is a decided advantage, for the easy-flowing melodies, which come quite naturally to the composer, cannot fail to attract the public without being able to tire them. One of the most delightful, a really exquisite piece of music, is the duet between Giulietta and Giovanni.
     The text, which is likewise written by the musician himself, has a very simple plot.
     Pietro, a sailor, returns from a long voyage only to find his promised bride, Maritana, the wife of another.
     After having waited three years for his return, she fell into dire distress, which was augmented by the report that Pietro’s ship “Elena” had been wrecked and her lover drowned. An innkeeper, Arrigo, came to her aid, and not only rescued her from misery, but also adopted her child, the offspring of Maritana’s love for Pietro, after which she promised him her hand in gratitude.
     Not long after their marriage the “Elena” returns with Pietro, who never doubts his sweetheart’s constancy. Great is his dismay when he hears from Arrigo and his father that Maritana is lost to him. Pietro endeavors to persuade Maritana to fly with him, but the young wife, although conscious of her affections for him, denies that she ever loved him.
     The second act begins with the wedding festival of Giovanni and Ginhietta, Arrigo’s niece. After the charming love duet above mentioned, Pietro once more offers his love to Maritana, but in vain.
     In the midst of the turmoil of frolic, in which Pietro seems one of the wildest and gayest, Arrigo takes him aside, whispering: “There is no room here for both of us unless you leave Maritana in peace. Quit this place; there are more girls in the world to suit you.” Pietro promises, and in his passion he at once turns to the bride Giulietta, whom he embraces. Of course her bridegroom, Giovanni, is not willing to put up with this piece of folly ; a violent quarrel ensues, in which the men rush upon Pietro with daggers drawn.
     Maritana, willing to sacrifice herself in a quarrel for which she feels herself ahone responsible, rushes between the combatants. Then Pietro, fully awake to her love, but seeing that she is lost to him, quickly ascends a rock, and calling out, “0 Sea eternal, I am thine; farewell, Maritana, we shall meet in heaven!” he precipitates himself into the waves, while Maritana falls back in a faint.

LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR

Tragic Opera in three acts by Gaetano Donizetti

Text from Scott’s romance by Salvatore Cammerano

     This opera is Donizetti’s masterpiece, and, except his “Figlia del Reggimento” and “Lu7crezia Borgia,” is the only one of his fifty operas which is still given on all stages abroad. The chief parts, those of Lucia and Edgardo, offer plenty of scope for the display of brilliant talent, and Lucia in particular is a tragic heroine of the first rank.
     In the libretto there is not much left of Scott’s fine romance. Edgardo, the noble lover, is most sentimental, and, generally, English char­acteristics have had to give place to Italian coloring.
     Henry Ashton, Lord of Lammermoor, has discovered that his sister Lucia loves his mortal enemy, Sir Edgardo of Ravenswood. He confides to Lucia’s tutor, Raymond, that he is lost if Lucia does not marry another suitor of his (her brother’s) choice.
     Lucia and Edgardo meet in the park. Edgardo tells her that he is about to leave Scotland for France in the service of his country. He wishes to be reconciled to his enemy, Lord Ashton, for though the latter has done him all kinds of evil, though he has slain his father and burnt his castle, Edgardo is willing to sacrifice his oath of vengeance to his love for Lucia. But the lady, full of evil forebodings, entreats him to wait, and swears eternal fidelity to him. After having bound himself by a solemn oath, he leaves her, half distracted with grief.
     In the second act Lord Ashton shows a forged letter to his sister, which goes to prove that her lover is false. Her brother now presses her more and more to wed his friend, Arthur, Lord Bucklaw, declaring that he and his party are lost, and that Arthur alone can save him from the executioner’s axe. At last, when even her tutor Raymond beseeches her to forget Edgardo, and, like the others, believes him to be faithless, Lucia consents to the sacrifice. The wedding takes place in great haste, but just as Lucia has finished signing the marriage contract, Edgardo enters to claim her as his own.
     With grief and unbounded passion he now sees in his bride a traitoress, and tearing his ring of betrothal from her finger, he throws it at her feet.
     Henry, Arthur, and Raymond order the raving lover to leave the castle, and the act closes in the midst of confusion and despair.
     The third act opens with Raymond’s announcement that Lucia has lost her reason, and has killed her husband in the bridal room. Lucia herself enters to confirm his awful news; she is still in bridal attire, and in her demented condition believes that Arthur will presently appear for the nuptial ceremony. Everybody is full of pity for her, and her brother repents his harshness. Too late, alas! — Lucia is fast dying, and Eliza leads her away amid the lamentations of all present.
     Edgardo, hearing of these things while wandering amid the tombs of his ancestors, resolves to see Lucia once more. When dying, she asks for him, but he comes too late. The funeral bells toll, and he stabs himself, praying to be united to his bride in heaven.

LUCREZIA BORGIA

Tragic Opera in three acts by Donizetti

Text by Felice Romani, after victor Hugo’s drama

     Donizetti’s Lucrezia was one of the first tragic operas to comnmand great success, notwithstand­ing its dreadful theme and its light music, which is half French, half Italian. It is in some respects the predecessor of Verdi’s operas, “Rigoletto,” “Trovatore,” etc., which have till now held their own in many theatres because the subject is interesting and the music may well entertain us for an evening, though its value often lies only in the striking harmonies. The libretto cannot inspire us with feelings of particular pleasure, tIme heroine, whose part is by far the best and most interesting, being the celebrated murderess and poisoner, Lucrezia Borgia. At the same time she gives evidence, in her deal­ings with her son Gennaro, of possessing a very tender and motherly heart, and the songs in which she pours out her love for him are really fine, as well as touching.
     Lucrezia, wife of Don Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara, goes to Venice in disguise to see the son of her first marriage, Gennaro. In his earliest youth he was given to a fisherman, who brought him up as his own son. Gennaro feels himself attracted towards the strange and beautiful woman who visits him, but hearing from his companions, who recognize and charge her with all sorts of crimes, that she is Lucrezia Borgia, he abhors her. Don Alfonso, not knowing the existence of this son of an early marriage, is jealous, and when Gennaro comes to Ferrara, and in order to prove his hatred of the Borgias tears off Lucrezia’s name and ‘scutcheon from the palace gates, Rustighello, the Duke’s confi­dant, is ordered to imprison him. Lucrezia, hearing from her servant Gubetta of the outrage to her name and honor, complains to the Duke, who promises immediate punishment of the malefactor.
     Gennaro enters, and terror-stricken Lucrezia recognizes her son. Vainly does she implore the Duke to spare the youth. With exquisite cruelty he forces her to hand the poisoned golden cup to the culprit herself, and, departing, bids her accompany her prisoner to the door. This order gives her an opportunity to administer an antidote by which she saves Gennaro’s life, and she implores him to fly. But Gennaro does not immediately follow her advice, being induced by his friend Orsini to assist at a grand festival at Prince Negroni’s.
     Unhappily all those young men who formerly reproached and offended Lucrezia so mortally in presence of her son are assembled there by Lucrezia’s orders. She has mixed their wine with poison, and herself appears to announce their death. Horror-stricken, she sees Gennaro, who was not invited, among them. He has par-taken of the wine, like the others, but on her offering him an antidote he refuses to take it; its quantity is insufficient for his friends, and he threatens to kill the murderess. Then she reveals the secret of his birth to him, but he only turns from this mother, for whom he had vainly longed his whole life, and dies. The Duke, coming up to witness his wife’s horrible victory, finds all either dead or dying, and Lucrezia herself expires, stricken down by deadly remorse and pain.

LAKMÉ

Romantic Opera in three acts by Leo Delibes

Text by Gondinet and Ph. Gille

This opera was adopted from the romance “Le Mariage de Loti,” and was first given in Paris in 1883. Delibes is at his best in light opera and ballets. The composition which is Oriental in character, lacks the dramatic interest which the libretto demands, nevertheless, it is attractive when performed by good artists, because of its charming love songs and graceful duets.
     The scene is laid in India in a locality recently subdued by the English. The first act presents the private gardens of Nilakantha, an Indian priest, who has a great dislike for all foreigners. A small party of English ladies and British officers, including Gerald and Frederick, intrude upon his sacred grounds while strolling about in search of amusement. They discover some magnificent jewels, which Lakmé, daughter of Nilakantha, has left upon a shrine, and Gerald is so struck by their beauty that he remains to make a sketch of them for his fiancée, Ellen, while the others, realizing the impropriety of their intrusion, retire unnoticed. Lakmé soon returns, and on seeing Gerald immediately falls in love with him, and warns him of the death penalty which will result if his presence is discovered. Gerald hastily conceals himself as Nilakantha enters, but the wily priest discovers his footprints, and declares that he must he captured, and suffer the penalty for his rashness.
     In the second act, Lakmé and her father, disguised as Penitents, appear in the public square, where a grand festival is taking place in honor of the Gods of India. Many English people are present, and the priest commands his daughter to sing before them, hoping she will be recognized by the intruder, and that he will thus be induced to disclose himself. The plan succeeds, and Nilakantha, determined on revenge, steals up behind Gerald and stabs him in the back. Lakmé, who witnesses the deed, hurries to the assistance of her lover, and with aid of Hadji, her slave, removes him to a hut in the forest, where he is seen in the third act being nursed back to life and strength by the faithful Lakmé, who, knowing the secret properties of the Indian plants, soon restores him to perfect health. Under her tender care and affection Gerald forgets his former love and duties, and swears eternal love for Lakmé. To prove his constancy, he begs her to procure a draught of the sacred water which possesses the property of making earthly love eternal. While she is absent in search of it, Frederick appears on the scene, urges his friend to leave Lakmé and his present mode of living and to return to his fiancée and his duties in the army. Gerald reluctantly consents on hearing that his regiment is about to be ordered into action, and Frederick leaves just as Lakmé returns with the magic potion. She lovingly offers it to him, but as she does so the fifes and drums of his troop are heard in the distance preparing for their departure, and the love of duty overmastering him, Gerald refuses to drink. The heart-broken Lakmé immediately sees they are estranged forever, and in despair she takes a deadly poison, and falls dying in the arms of her lover as the angry priest and his Hindoo followers arrive on the scene. With her last breath Lakmé urges her father to forgive him, and, the request being granted, Gerald is allowed to depart unharmed.

LOUISE

Opera in four acts by Gustave Charpentier

     Both libretto and music of this opera are by Gustave Charpentier, who took for his subject matter the French law, which requires the consent of the parents for a child of either sex to marry. Charpentier endeavors to show how cruelly this law works when a genuine love inspires the cbild and when the parent, acting from motives of prudence and foresight, refuses to recognize the profounder impulse which brings young people of different sexes together. A young working girl, Louise by name, falls in love with a young man, Julien, the poet of Montmartre. Her beauty and sweetness of character have wrought a similar. feeling in him for her. The father of Louise, however, refuses his consent to Louise’s marriage with Julien because he does not approve of the poet’s way of life. This is the beginning of’ the tragedy of the lives of the young people. The opera was performed for the first time in Paris, in 1900.
     The first act introduces us to Louise’s garret room in her father’s home, which is an ordinary workman’s lodging in Paris. Roofs of houses are to be seen, and a terrace fronting an artist’s studio is opposite to the window of Louise's chamber. Julien, standing on the terrace, discusses with Louise at her window the refusal, Julien’s letter to her father for her hand had met with. They are both much depressed, hut comfort each other with expressions of love. LQuise advises Julien to write again to her father, and, in the event of a second refusal, promises to run away from her home and live with him. The mother then comes in and overhears part of what has been said by the young lovers. She is angry with Louise for listening to "a rascal, a starveling, a dissipator." It is of no avail for Louise to plead that he is "so good, so courageous"; in her mother’s eyes he is "the pillar of a wine shop." The mother becomes furiously angry with Louise and attempts to chastise her, but Louise avoids her by running behind the table. They cease their quarrelling on hearing steps on the stairs, and listen, frightened, for the arrival of the father, who comes in bearing a letter in his hand. On his entrance the mother leaves for the kitchen. The father. sits down, opens the letter, and reads it.After he has read it he looks at his daughter and opens his arms for her embrace. She rushes into them. The. mother, in the meantime, has been preparing the supper, and when it is ready they all. sit down and partake of it. After the meal the father promises Louise to look into Julien’s prospects and antecedents; but the mother still remains implacable and resents his attitude towards a marriage with a good-for-nothing who laughs in her face when he meets her. He is a debauchee, and she could tell some dreadful things about him. Louise indignantly denies her mother’s insinuations, and is slapped in the face. The father interferes, but the mother continues with her jibes, singing mockingly a song of Julien’s. The father tries to comfort Louise and gives her the newspaper to read to him. They all seat themselves at the table, the mother sewing, while Louise reads: "The Spring Season is most brilliant. All Paris is in holiday garb." Louise stops for a moment in her reading and sobs : " Paris-," as the curtain slowly descends.
     The second act consists of two scenes. The first scene represents the meeting-place of several streets in the Montmartre quarter of Paris. On the left of the stage is seen a shed, and on the right a house and a drinking shop. People are going and coming, shopping during the early morning hours. Various types of the district are introduced chatting and joking with each other. Julien enters with his companions of the café. He has come to waylay Louise on her way to work. Prior to her arrival Julien and his Bohemians make fun and horseplay after the usual manner of students and night-walkers. Julien is left waiting and watching for Louise. When she does comb she is accompanied by her mother, who leaves her, after making sure no one is about, and after Louise has entered the house. Julien comes in quietly and then rushes into the house, reappearing again, dragging Louise with him. He wants to know what is the answer to his letter written to her father. Louise tells him that it is not favorable. He then reminds her of her promise to go with him, but Louise refuses to go with him. He begs and implores her, but Louise remains firm in her refusal. She knows she will break her father’s heart if she goes away with Julien. He tries to drag her with him, but she struggles in resistance. Finally she embraces him, after promising to be his wife, and goes back into the house, leaving Julien filled with despondency. The second scene of this act shows a workroom for sewing girls, with a number of girls sitting at work, Louise being among them. They are gossiping together and busy with their labors. Some of the girls twit Louise on being in love. Their teasing is interrupted by some one singing from the courtyard below. It is Julien serenading Louise, determined to show her his love in every way he can. The girls in the room throw him pennies and kisses by way of gratuity. Julien, enraged at this reception, still continues with his serenade but the girls, getting tired of him, ask him to stop. He still goes on, and the girls, becoming angry, shout to the musicians in the street to play. The musicians obey and a great din ensues, during which Louise, no longer able to stand the trying situation, takes up her hat and goes out. The girls are astonished at her behavior, and rush to the window to see what she is going to do. They find her walking away with Julien. The work-girls are highly amused, and the curtain falls on their hilarious laughter.
     The curtain of the third act rises and reveals a small house and garden situated at the apex of the Butte Montmartre. This is the home to which Julien has brought Louise to live with him, she having at last consented to leave her parents and keep her promise. The two are in The midst of the enjoyment of their happiness in each other, and a very charming and tender love scene is enacted. Their friends, having prepared a surprise for them, now come to crown Louise as the Muse of Montmartre. They come in by twos and threes - Bohemians, grisettes, urchins, carriers, loafers, and others - and decorate the house with flowers, garlands, and lanterns. A chorus in procession arrives and in and Louise turns on her also. Finally the parents become angry, and their anger arouses in Louise a passion for her lover, on whom she calls. She wants only Julien and Paris-Paris the beautiful. As she cries the words aloud, the City becomes gradually lighted up. The father, enraged, attempts to strike her, but, changing his mind, throws open the door and bids her go, dragging her to the exit. "Here’s your pleasure, ladies," he cries, pointing to the brightening City; "they’ll dance till they die, they’ll laugh till they cry." Louise, trembling, runs round the room in deadly fear of her father. The mother begs her husband to cease raging, but the father, now maddened into a fury, rushes at Louise. Louise escapes with a cry and is gone. The father, dazed, looks about him for a moment, then, realizing that she is gone, he runs to the staircase crying aloud his daughter’s name. "Louise! . . Louise!" He returns and looks for a moment through the window; then, shaking his fist in a rage at the City, he cries : "Oh, Paris!"

A LIFE FOR THE TSAR

Russian Historical Opera in four acts and an epilogue by M. I. Glinka

Text after Mérimée’s "Les Faux Démétrius"

     When Dehn, Glinka’s teacher, told the latter: "Go and write Russian music," the Russian opera did not exist. Glinka not only composed real Russian music for this opera, but also took his facts for the book from Russian history. The period of Russian history ensuing on the death of Ivan the Terrible and lasting until the accession of Michael Romanov, is known as the Time of Trouble, culminating in the reign of the usurper Boris Godounov. Russia was beset on all sides by cruel foes, of whom the Poles were the most formidable. It is on this state of affairs that the curtain rises.
     The first act occurs in a village where Ivan Soussanin, a simple but heroic peasant, lives with his daughter Antonida and his son Vanya. A celebration is going on to mark the approaching end of the long struggle with Russia’s enemies. Antonida rapturously gazes in the direction whence she expects the return from the wars of her lover Sobinin. The father, however, is still oppressed with fear that all is not going well. Sobinin arrives and gives an account, from which it seems that a Tsar has been chosen at last. Thereupon Soussanin consents to the marriage, long delayed, of his daughter with the warrior Sobinin.
      The second act takes us to Poland, where the nobles, confident of vanquishing the Russians, are reveling. Towards the close of the feasting; however, a messenger arrives bearing news of the retreat of the Polish forces and of the election of a national Russian for Tsar.
     The third act strikes a high note of patriotism, although its background is humble. In the izba, or hut, of the peasant Soussanin we see in progress general rejoicings. A chorus of peasants, singing some wonderful folksongs, Soussanin, Vanya, and the pair of lovers, all participate in the merrymaking. This scene is interrupted by the noise of approaching soldiers. It is a detachment of approaching Polish soldiers, and these burst into the izba a moment later. The intruders are on the march to Moscow whence they reckon on bringing back the newly elected Tsar as a prisoner. Being, however, unacquainted with the road they force Soussanin to act as their guide. The latter, scenting the imminent danger to his new sovereign, resolves to lead the Polish forces astray. Lulling the foes into false security, he seizes an opportunity before leaving his cabin to whisper instructions to his son Vanya, telling him to hasten with all speed to the retreat of the Tsar and acquaint him with the circum-stances, enabling him to forestall the danger. Soussanin then leaves with the Poles. Antonida’s young playmates enter singing a nuptial song and find her in deep grief. Sobinin, on arriving, is also made acquainted with the state of things, and at once determines on pursuit of the enemy forces.
     The fourth act is divided into three scenes. Sobinin and his men are seen hunting for traces of the enemy. The second scene discovers young Vanya at the monastery of Kostroma, where Michael Romanov, the newly chosen Tsar, has taken refuge. Help is summoned to warn the Tsar and his followers of the approaching enemy. Then the Polish band is seen led by Soussanin. He has taken them to a marshy forest where snow is falling fast. The night is beginning to close in, and the Poles suspect that they have been betrayed by their guide. They encamp while the sleepless Soussanin prepares for death. A storm arises and during its roar the patriotic peasant prays. He now scorns to dissemble any longer, feeling sure that his lord, the Tsar, must now have attained shelter from his foes. At the first dawn, therefore, he boldly owns up to having betrayed the enemies of his country, whereupon they fall upon him and put an end to his life.
     The epilogue is acted on the famous Red Square of Moscow. A crowd, of jubilant Russians sing the magnificent "Slavsya" chorus, acclaiming the newly crowned monarch. Among them are Antonida and Vanya. Together they intone one of the finest pieces of music in the opera, the unrivaled trio. The curtain drops amid loud acclaims.

LOBETANZ

A Fairy Opera in three acts by Ludwig Thuille

Text hy Otto Julius Bierbaum

     The first production of this work was at Mannheim, Germany, 1898. The scene is laid in Germany, during the Middle Ages.
     In the first act a garden, with adjoining palace, is seen. There is a festival of song, on a sunny day of spring, and joy unrestrained reigns. Girls dance, strew roses, and chant pleasant ditties. Lobetanz, a homeless, wandering troubadour, happens along, and drawn by all this gayety, ventures into the garden. His garments are torn, and he himself is famished, but his faithful violin he carries with him, and the joyous maidens, seeing he can play for their dancing, invite him to join in their revel. They tell this strolling musician that the king has set aside this day for singing and general rejoicing, hoping that thus his daughter, who has been ailing with a mysterious complaint, may find a cure. It appears, they say, that all the physicians of the country have been unable to reach the seat of her malady, and that only a song touching her heart may heal her. Therefore the poets and composers and minstrels of the entire realm have been bidden to do their utmost. Lobetanz is urged to attempt a song. He looks down at his tattered clothing, and says that he alas, is no fit company for royalty. He even tries to hide when a gorgeous procession, headed by the king himself, is seen approaching. The sympathetic damsels, telling him to pluck up courage, hide the minstrel’s shabby clothes with garlands of roses, just before the royal party reaches the spot. Courtiers and harpers, fiutists and fiddlers, poets and rhymesters do their best, but the princess, indifferent to their efforts, remains listless and melancholy. Still others try their skill, violently quarreling about their precedence. Of a sudden the soft, sweet strains of a violin, coming from a leafy bower, arrest her attention, and she is spellbound by the lay. When the last notes float away, she begs the musician may be brought to her. Lobetanz is dragged out of his hiding place, and the princess is charmed with him. Next she begs him to sing to her, and when he intones a rare melody, the princess faints from sheer excess of delight. There is an uproar, ending with the minstrel’s being charged with black art. In the confusion, however, Lohetanz slips off unobserved.
     The second act happens in the forest, where Lohetanz has found shelter in the cabin of the gamekeeper. Lobetanz seeks repose in the shade of a far-spreading lime-tree, and while asleep there a raven pounces upon his cap, and carries it off toward hangman’s hill. The forester, his friend, tells the waking man of this incident, and augurs ill therefrom, but the laughing minstrel scorns the omen. Then along comes the princess, taking the fresh air in the quiet woods, and instantly recognizes her unknown minstrel, him of whom she has been dreaming all along, ever since the day he sang to her. She shows her delight at finding him, and they confess their mutual love. This scene is cut short by the arrival of the king with his retinue, who have been hunting in the glades.. Lobetanz is seized, and the death sentence, is passed on him as being a sorcerer, to the utter despair of his sweetheart, the princess.
     The first scene of the third act shows the dungeon in which Lobetanz is chained up securely waiting his doom. Some of his fellow-prisoners mock him for his presumption in daring to aspire to the hand of a princess, but Lobetanz keeps his air of serenity. He even is handed his fiddle, and with his manacled hand he plays a hymn to Death, while the motley crowd about him, one of them assuming the character of the grim destroyer, act a gruesome pantomine. In the midst of the noise the executioner comes in, claiming Lobetanz as his prey.
     The last scene is enacted on hangman’s bill outside the town, where a great throng has gathered to see the gay minstrel die. The executioner proclaims publicly why Lobetanz is to be put to death, saying that only the delinquent’s blood can redeem the princess from the wicked spell that she is suffering under. The princess at this juncture is carried to the foot of the gallows, nearly lifeless, and Lobetanz, seeing her, begs as a last favor that he may play one more tune to ‘her. After some discussion the request is granted, and the effects of the music are marvelous. At the first stroke of the bow she revives, and with every new tone she recovers more and more. When the music ceases, the princess sits up, gazes lovingly at Lobetanz, and finally stretches out her arms to him; she is fully recovered. Her royal father instantly grants a full pardon to the condemned man, and gives his consent to the marriage with his daughter. Minstrel and princess join hands and blithely lead in the merry dance that follows, a dance in which even king and hangman take part. And at this moment, too, the solemn raven that had carried off the minstrel’s cap, drops it from the top of the gallows. This, the old cronies aver, means the height of good fortune, and no longer shameful death. And so they all meander forth.

LORELEY

Romantic Opera in three acts by Alfredo CatalaniI

Libretto hy A. Zanardini and Carlo D’Ormville

     This opera was first heard in Chicago, April, 1919. The scene is laid on the banks of the Rhine, during medieval times.
     In the first act Walter, the governor of Oberwesel, meets the Loreley wandering the shores of the river, and although betrothed to Anna of Rehberg, niece of the margrave, he is smitten with a sudden passion for the alluring stranger. He confides the facts to his friend, Herman, who solemnly urges him to remain faithful to Anna, although he himself is deeply in love with the latter and has merely yielded to his friend heretofore because Anna favored him in her love. But Loreley coming in search of Waiter, hears that he is already betrothed to another, and swoons at the news. Herman, lamenting that he has yielded up Anna to another, appeals to the god of the Rhine to avenge Anna’s wrongs. Lorehey seeks the nymphs of the river and the spirits of the air, who all are singing in praise of Thor, and of the river god, bemoaning her lost chastity and foretelling revenge. The spirits tell her that Alberich, the cuuning, godlike dwarf, can assist her by rendering her irresistible and thus capable of torturing the faithless one with new pangs of love. But she must swear fidelity. She does so and rises instantly, transformed, with golden hair and wearing the golden comb of the Loreley.
     The second act transpires in front of the castle of the margrave. When Walter and Anna are both on their way to church to be married, they are confronted by Loreley, who appears in a mystic light, and who sings her song of love to Walter. He casts Anna from him, and as he rushes into the arms of Loreley, she eludes him, plunging into the Rhine and leaving Walter forlorn on its bank. As Anna falls lifeless. Loreley reappears on the rock.
     The third act shows the obsequies of Anna. Walter meets the mourning procession, and being informed it is that in honor of Anna, he falls in a swoon by the river, and as he wakes he sees Loreley on her rock, singing her song of love to him. As she is about to embrace him, threatening voices from the deep remind her of her oath to the river god. She tears herself from Walter and returns to her rock. Walter, in a frenzy, throws himself into the river, and Loreley sings her song of enticement for the last time.

THE LEGEND

Lyric opera in one act by Joseph Breil

Libretto by Byrne

     This opera was first performed in New York in 1919. The setting is the mythical country of Muscovadia in the Balkans during the nineteenth century.
     Count Stackareff, a penniless nobleman by day, Black Lorenzo the bandit by night, lives with his daughter Carmelita at his hunting lodge in Muscovadia. It is a stormy night. Stackareff tells his daughter of having captured a wealthy merchant whose ransom is expected to arrive by messenger at any moment. If it does not come, Stackareff intends to kill the prisoner. Carmelita fears not only for the safety of her father but that her lover, Stephen Pauloff, will discover the Count’s double life and cast her off. As she is praying before a statue of the Virgin, Marta, an old servant, enters and says that she has seen Stephen in the forest. Carmelita is overjoyed but Marta warns her that on this night the Evil One walks abroad and knocks at doors. He who opens the door dies within a year. Carmelita laughs at the old woman’s superstitions and asks her to tell her fortune. The ace of spades is drawn at every cutting. Marta refuses to explain the significance of the death card and leaves her young mistress bewildered.
     Above the sound of the rising storm, Carmelita hears a knock at the door and runs to open it, thinking Stephen has come. No one is there.
     Later Stephen arrives, explaining that he has been sent to capture the murderous bandit, Black Lorenzo, dead or alive. While the two are planning to elope, Stackareff enters. When he learns of Stephen’s mission, he shouts that he is the bandit and leaps through the door to escape. The young soldier starts after him and when Carmelita’s prayers fail to keep him from following her father, she stabs him. Two soldiers enter with the body of Stackareff and seeing that Carmelita has killed their captain, they fire upon her, the fatal shot ringing out through the music of the finale.

LINDA DI CHAMOUNIX

Opera in three acts by Gaetano Donizetti

Book by Proch after Rossi

     The first production was given in 1842 at Vienna. The scenes are laid in Chamounix and Paris, during the reign of Louis XV, about 1760.
     Act I. Antonio and Madeline, poor Savoyard farmers in the village of Chamounix, are afraid of being dispossessed by their landlord, the Marquis de Boisficury. When the opera opens, Antonio has returned from a visit to the Marquis’ agent who has given him hope of leniency from his titled landlord. Antonio and Madeline have a daughter, Linda, whose beauty has attracted the Marquis. Linda is in love with an artist, Charles, but does not know that he is the Viscount de Sirval, nephew of the Marquis de Boisfleury. When her parents learn of the wealthy rone’s intentions toward Linda, they send her to Paris to stay with the village prefect’s brother.
     Act II. Linda has been installed by Charles in a handsome apartment in Paris. When she had arrived in the city with her Savoyard companions, she found that the prefect’s brother had died, and she was forced to support herself by singing in the streets. Fortunately Charles had discovered her. He had disclosed his identity and they plan to be married as soon as he can obtain his family’s consent to the union. Meantime, the Marquis has traced Linda and calls to force his unwelcome attentions upon her. No sooner had he been repulsed than Charles comes to say that his family insists that he marry another. Next appears Linda’s father who, seeing the costly surroundings, forms the obvious conclusions and denounces his daughter bitterly. Pierrot, a Savoyard minstrel and friend to Linda, now enters to inform her that Charles’ wedding is in progress. Linda’s mind gives way before her father’s denunciation and what she believes to be Charles’ desertion.
     Act III. The Savoyards, whom Linda had accompanied to Paris at the end of the first act, are returning to Chamounix after their season’s work in the city. Among them is Charles, successful at last in persuading his family to consent to his marriage with Linda. But Linda cannot be found. When she finally comes back to Chamounix, led by the faithful Pierrot, she does not recognize her lover as he tries to explain that there is now no obstacle to their union. But the truth eventually pierces her clouded reason and she swoons. Upon awakening from unconsciousness, her sanity is restored and the curtain falls on the happy tears of everyone, including the rascally old Marquis whom Linda naïvely greets as her "dear, dear uncle."

LODOLETTA

Opera in three acts by Pietro Mascagni

Words by Forzano, after Ouida’s novel, "Two Little Wooden Shoes"

     This opera was first performed at Rome in 1917. The scenes are laid in a Dutch village during the Second Empire.
     Act I. Lodoletta lives with old Antonio who found her in a basket of flowers beside the lake when she was an infant. When the opera opens, she is begging Antonio for a pair of red wooden shoes, but, alas, he has no money. Then Plammen, a gay young Parisian artist, induces the old villager to sell him a treasured picture of a Madonna. With the gold Antonio buys Lodoletta the red shoes. Soon afterward while picking blossoms for the spring festival, the old man falls from a tree and dies. Lodoletta is left alone in the world.
     Act II. Flammen, who has fallen in love with the young girl, persuades her to become his model. This causes gossip among the villagers. After refusing honest Gianetto, Lodoletta begs Flammen to return to Paris since the love he offers is not altogether honorable. He goes, only to find that absence intensifies his passion; and so he comes back to the village. But Lodoletta has disappeared.
     Act III. On New Year’s eve, Flammen’s friends have gathered at his villa to help him forget his love in gaiety. When the celebration is at its height, Lodoletta, who in her turn has been searching for the artist, reaches his garden. Watching the merrymakers through a window, Lodoletta realizes that Flammen is not for her and, exhausted and disillusioned, she swoons in the snow. Here Flammen, after his lively friends have departed, finds her and flinging himself upon her frozen body, he swears to die for love of her.

LUISA MILLER

Opera in three acts by Giuseppe Verdi

Based on Schiller’s play, "Kabale and Liebe"

     This opera was first given in 1849 at Naples. The setting is the Wurtemberg Court in 1874.
     Act I. Rodolfo, Count Walter’s son, refuses to marry the Duchess of Ostheim, his father’s choice, because he loves Luisa, daughter of the old soldier, Miller. Luisa is unaware of Rodolfo’s nobility as he has wooed her in the guise of a peasant. Count Walter, enraged at his son’s obstinacy in preferring a union with Luisa, is about to consign her and her father to prison when Rodolfo deters him with a threat to reveal that the Count, aided by his steward Wurm, assassinated his predecessor to obtain his title and estates.
     Act II. Luisa’s father has been imprisoned by Count Walter. To save his life, Luisa consents to write a letter, declaring that she had never loved Rodolfo but had encouraged him on account of his rank and fortune of which she said she had always been aware and, finally offering to fly with Wurm, the Count’s evil steward. This letter is shown Rodolfo who then consents to marry the Duchess Frederica but resolves to kill Luisa and himself,
     Act III. Luisa has also determined to end her life. When Rodolfo comes to her home to ask if she wrote the letter, she admits that she did. He poisons the wine which she unwittingly offers him to quench his thirst. At his request, she also drinks of the poison and feeling that approaching death releases her from her vow of secrecy, she tells her lover the truth about the letter. He forgives her and the two then die before their horror-stricken parents.

Last updated October 21, 2006