Reviews — The New York Times

From the New York Times - April 20, 1894

THE SORROWS OF WERTHER
THE PRODUCTION OF MASSENET’S
LATEST GRAND OPERA.
First Novelty of the Season at the
Metropolitan Opera House - Jean de
Reszke as the Hero of Sentimental-
ism - Emma Eames as the Lady Who
Went on Cutting Bread and Butter
Sigrid Arnoldson Turns Soubrette
An Opera for Moonstruck Youth.

     Once upon a time a season at the Metropolitan Opera House began with the performance of an opera never before heard in America by a company including three principal singers, who made their d‚buts here that evening, and of whom one - the tenor - sang the leading rôle in the opera for the first time in his life. This was in the days of German opera, when the singers were engaged to sing such parts as the management selected for them. In a company organized on the system prevalent on the so-called Italian stage, the artists make their own répertoires and the managers must select operas into which they can most advantageously fit their singers. This is one of the reasons why the first novelty of the Winter at the Metropolitan Opera House was produced last night in the supplementary season. And even in these circumstances it is an open secret that the public has M. Jean de Reszké to thank for the production. The title r“le was already in his répertoire, and he believed that he would win fresh laurels by bringing forward the work. It will be remembered that Thackeray wrote a short poem of which the second and third stanzas are these:

          Charlotte was a married lady,
          And a moral man was Werther,
          And for all the wealth of Indies,
          Would do nothing for to hurt her.

          So he sighed and pined and ogled,
          And his passion boiled and bubbled,
          Till he blew his silly brains out,
          And no more was by it troubled.

     And that is the story of the ”Sorrows of Werther,“ written by the great Goethe. He wrote ”Faust,“ and that made a successful opera; so why not ”Werther“? Possibly no one cares a rap for the gossipy supposition that Goethe’s hero and heroine were sketched from Albert Kestner and Charlotte Buff. It cannot help the opera in any way to recall the story that the German author was in love with Lotte and that her marriage soured his oversensitive disposition. It is not even a serious question at this time whether Goethe’s story is a healthy one. It may be admitted, however, that some persons are generally agreed that Werther was a fool.
     The only questions that arise now are whether Goethe’s story furnishes a good basis for an opera libretto and how far the adapters have adhered to the original story. It is not necessary to wade through the innumerable letters in which Werther poured out his griefs to get at the plot of Goethe’s novel. Thackeray has told the story much better in his four stanzas. It appears that Werther first saw Charlotte in the inspiring act of cutting bread and butter. It appears further that after Werther had filled something like 400 pages of print with his thrills and throbs and tantrums, and had finally made an end of them and of himself, to the great relief to the reader, Charlotte went on cutting bread and butter, and died at a comfortable old age, surrounded by her children.
     In an opera this would not do at all. In the libretto of Messrs. Edouard Blau, Paul Milliet, and Georges Hartmann the action begins with the singing by children of a carol, ”Jésus Vient de Naître.“ It is July, but the carol is being prepared for a pathetic effect in the last act. We are introduced to the home of the Bailli, and in due time we behold the meeting of Charlotte and Werther. Not only does the lady cut bread and butter, but she is careful to say to Werther: ”Mes enfants exigent que ma main leur coupe chaque jour leur pain.“ That settles Werther. Ten minutes later he declares that he would give his ”vie pour garder … jamais ces yeux ce front charmant,“ &c. But Charlotte has promised her dying mother that she will marry Albert, and so at the end of Act 1, we find Werther (”seul, désespéré,“) exclaiming, ”Un autre son époux.“
     In the second act Charlotte and Albert are married. Werther arrives and declares his love. Charlotte promptly says ”Go“ and bids him be strong and noble. At the same time she bids him to return at Christmas. Then you begin to see why the children sang the carol in the first act. Left alone, Werther soliloquizes somewhat metaphysically. Then he tells Sophie, Charlotte’s bright little sister, that he is going away forever, and she informs Charlotte. That lady exclaims tragically: ”Pour toujours!“ And her husband remarks, sotto voce: ”Il l’aime.“
     In the third act Charlotte is discovered at home engaged in the very unwise business of reading letters from Werther. Sophie tries to console her in her grief, for Charlotte now knows that she loves Werther, but she finally seeks solace in prayer. Then Werther appears. She told him to come back at Christmas, and here he is. Absence has not cured him, and, of course, before Charlotte knows where she is, she is in his arms. Then she bids him go for good, and he obeys. He sends back a letter requesting Albert to lend him a pistol. Albert is a good husband. He knows his business. He sends the pistol by bearer.
     So far so good. Goethe, with all his sentimentalism, got rid of Werther and left Charlotte spotless. It was very German; but not to be tolerated by Frenchmen. Instead of stopping the servant and getting the pistol. Charlotte follows him and reaches Werther after the fatal shot. Act IV. - Werther dying, Charlotte distracted, and the blessed children singing the carol which was prepared from the beginning.
     It remained to be seen how such a story, developed along lines made familiar by many years of libretto building, would adapt itself to the requirements of musical exposition. What there requirements are has been tolerably well established by an accumulation of experience extending back nearly 400 years. It has been established that the demand which music makes upon poetry, as exemplified in the operatic libretto, is twofold. First of all, it calls for the existence in the story of certain great fundamental principles of human action which we call passions - desires raised to an indefinite power, and converting their influence into a tremendous magnetism capable of moving a world. Secondly, it calls for a theatrically-effective control of the play of these emotions, so that the crescendo of passion may reach its climax, and decline to its final cadence with a symmetry which will impose its artistic influence upon every mind. In briefer speech, there must be matter and form to a thoroughly inspiring libretto.
     A really great composer is seldom or never deceived by mere form. The theatrical symmetry of a story will not satisfy a great musical mind. It will delve beneath the surface, and ascertain whether there is the flame of genuine fire in the motives of the story. M. Massenet has been deceived by the outward appearance of the story of Werther. The only person in the story whose passion is large enough to justify its being taken as one of the chief motives of a tragedy is Werther himself, and the issue of his passion is suicide - a dramatic futility at the best. There have been very few suicides in history whose memory assumed heroic proportions.
     The result of these conditions is that the best music of the opera is that which expresses the passion and despair of Werther. His solos in the first and second acts and his reading of the poem in the third, are good music, the last named being a really fine and moving piece of work. The ensuing duet with Charlotte is theatrically strong, but its impression at a first hearing was one of declamatory bustle, rather than genuine breadth. The rôle of Charlotte is far from satisfactory. It does not convince the hearer of anything except that Charlotte was particularly unhappy because she did not have the courage of her convictions. As for the other parts, they are mere ”feeders“ to the two lovers. If M. Massenet’s opera does not have lasting success it will be because it has no genuine depth. Perhaps M. Massenet is not capable of achieving profound depths of tragic passion; but certainly he will never do so in a work like ”Werther.“
     Of the individual performances there is now no time to speak at length. It must be noted, for the sake of the record, however, that the opera is a one-part work, a ”star“ piece, and that M. Jean de Reszke in this ”star“ part achieved a genuine triumph. He sang and acted with magnificent force and with an artistic judgement that never failed. Mme. Emma Eames was excellent as Charlotte, though she was not perfectly at home in the music. The cast was as follows:

Charlotte                                Mme Emma Eames
Sophie                                    Mme Sigrid Arnoldson
Albert                                     M. Mariatoura
Le Bailli                                  Signor Carbone
Schmidt                                  Signor Guetary
Johann                                    Signor de Vaschetti
Werther                                  M. Jean de Reszke

Last updated December 30, 2006