Reviews — The New York Times

From the New York Times - February 13, 1897

MASSENET’S “LE CID” SUNG
This Was the First Performance of the
Opera Ever Given in
New York.
SPAIN’S WAR HERO IN MUSIC.
A Production at the Metropolitan
Opera House Last Night Filled
with Pictorial Splendor - The
Music Pretentious, but
Not Inspired.

     “Le Cid,” a grand opera in four acts and ten tableaus, the book by Messrs. Adolphe D’Ennery, Leon Gallet, and Edouard Blau, and the music by M. Jules Massenet, was performed for the first time in New York last evening in the Metropolitan Opera House. This city cannot claim the honor of the first performance in the United States, because the work has already been heard in New Orleans. Nevertheless, the production here of an opera by the distinguished composer of “Esclarmonde,” “Werther,” and “Manon,” rises to the dignity of an event, especially for an opera season which has brought forth no other novelty. It is not at all remarkable that operatic composers should have seized upon the history of El Seid, the Signor, the Cid Campeador, the grand hero of Spanish romance. As far back as 1636 a tragedy on this subject gained for one of the French Immortals the title of “Le Grand Corneille,” and many operas now dead even to the musical historian have been written on the story of the Cid and his bride, Chimene.
     Rodrigue Diaz de Bivar was born at Burgos in 1030, and died in 1099. He made his fame by daring deeds in the reigns of Ferdinand, Sancho II., and Alphonso VI, of Leon and Castille. In the war between Sancho II. and his brother, Alphonso VI, he espoused the cause of the former and on the Assassination of Sancho was compelled to quit the Court in disgrace. He assembled his vassals, marched against the Moors, and so distinguished himself that Alphonso was glad to recall him. Guillemot Cantro, as well as Corneille, wrote a fine tragedy about him. Rosswell wrote an English play called “The Cid,” and Sanchez in 1775 wrote a poem of 1,128 stanzas called “Poema del Cid Campeador.” All that is known of his history was collected by Southey in his “Chronicle of the Cid,” (1808.) Operas on the story were written by Sacchini, (Rome, 1764;) Piccinni, (Naples, 1763;) Pasiello, (Florence, 1776;) Farinelli, (1797;) Luigi Savj, (Parma, 1834;) Neeb, (Frankfort, 1857) Peter Cornelius, (Weimar, 1865;) Charles Wagner, (Darmstadt, 1821;) Handel, (Florence, 1708;) Saidenza, (Naples, 1823), Aiblinger, (Munich, 1821;) Salieri, (Paris, 1788; not performed) Orlandi, (1815;) Generali, (Milan, 1817;) Litolf, (Paris, 1850, not performed) Emil Meyer, (Linz, 1848,) and Willy Bühme (Dessau, 1887.)
     Massenet’s “Le Cid” was produced at the Grand Opera, Paris, Dec. 1 [Nov. 30], 1885. Three members of last night’s cast appeared in the same rôles at the original performance - M. Jean de Reszke as Rodrigue, M. Edouard de Reszke as Don Diegue, and M. Plançon as Le Comte de Gormas. The presence of these artists in the Metropolitan Opera House company doubtless led to the production of the work in this city for the operatic public, chancy as it is of committing itself to the support of a new opera, is always ready to applaud its beloved tenor in a new part. To be sure, it is a step backward for M. de Reszke to forsake the subtle intellectuality and masterful emotion of his recent tragic rôles to pose as a grand chevalier, flourish a sword, and declaim heroics to the clamor of many trumpets; but a novelty is a novelty, and if we cannot have Wagner, we may as well content ourselves with the work of him whom a French critic facetiously dubbed Mlle. Wagner.
     The librettists of “Le Cid” have followed the story of Corneille’s tragedy and have made conventional historical opera on lines that have long been familiar to the French stage and which were clearly drawn in such works as Spontini’s “Ferdinando Cortez” and Meyerbeer’s “L’Africaine.” Neither Corneille nor D. Cantro followed history in his treatment of the story of Chimene, and the character as set forth in the opera produced last night is wholly imaginary, and not at all consistent. The emotional foundation of “Le Cid” rests on the proposition that a woman’s love will conquer her aversion for the man who kills her father. Chimene, to be sure, is in love with Rodrigue before he slays the Count Gormas, and it is possible that in such circumstances she might find it impossible to overcome her passion. Yet it seems as if the librettists could have provided her with some more simple and convincing reason for her surrender than the simple fact that the Cid had won great victories and obeyed the familiar request of Amneris to Radames: “Ritorna vincitor.”
     Perhaps we are too exacting in these days and ought to be contented with a book which provides so many brilliant and alluring pictures, which fills the stage with the “pride, the pomp, and glorious circumstance of war,” with two ballets, many flags, several horses, and more trumpets than even Wagner dared to dream of. For trumpets to right of us, trumpets to left of us, trumpets in front of us volley and thunder, till one longs for the peal of an army bugle blowing the benison of silence with “Cease firing.” But there is an abundance of the sweet companionship of the harp, which always had a penchant for travelling in company with trumpets or trombones ever since the days of Coriolanus; for Shakespeare tells us:

          The trumpets, sackbuts, psaltries, and fifes
          Make the sun dance.

     Massenet’s music in “Le Cid” is of imposing front, but it is absolutely superficial, and will not bear analysis. It is full of the insistent vigor of rich sonority and grandiose rhythms, but it never speaks the word of true passion, nor does it ever proclaim the presence of genuine inspiration. It is built on the recognized French model, which is a good one. The French have always aimed at breadth and fluency, and have sought earnestly after dramatic expression. A strong love of elegance in style and at aversion to everything abrupt or harsh have been the serious obstacles in the way of their attainment of deep dramatic power. With Massenet an exaggerated desire for the purely sensuous beauty of music is coupled with a grave lack of profundity. In “Le Cid” he is constantly struggling for heroic utterance, but his efforts to be powerful culminate in mere sound and fury. He never once rises to the heroic proportions of his subject, and in the places where his finest opportunities appear he is little better than commonplace. There is a delicate effeminate poetry in many passages of “Le Cid,” but the music never peals with power. There is an abundance of orchestral color, for Massenet’s writing is always substantial in texture, though at times overwrought. In “Le Cid,” as has already been intimated, the brasses are worked like packhorses in the desperate struggles for pompous style, but one gets simply an expression of intolerable clangor. Comparison is not criticism, but there is more true martial spirit in the “Ora e per sempre addio sante memorie” of Verdi’s Otello than in the whole score of “Le Cid.”
     Without doubt the best music in the opera is the ballet, which is full of vivacity, sparkle, and character. It is familiar in our concerts, and yet long usage does not prevent it from glowing as a real gem in its setting of pretentious platitudes. It would hardly be profitable to examine the score in detail, yet it is necessary to note some passages in the opera. Chimene’s “Ne l’aimez pas, madam” in the first act, and her ensuing duet with the Infanta, are graceful and pleasing. The scene before the cathedral begins most ambitiously with bells, organ, and chanting monks, but degenerates into puny feebleness in the episode of Rodrigue’s oath to the King. Rodrigue’s “O noble lame ‚tincelante,” with its harp-accented rhythm and its fanfares of brass. Effective in a theatrical way and the rest of the music of the first act is simply tiresome.
     Rodrigue’s “Perc‚ jusqu’au fond du coeur” owes most of its success to M. de Reszke and Chimene’s “Mort, mort” is conventional. The Infanta’s “Plus de torments” is dainty and melodious, and the ensemble at the close of the second act is made strictly according to the Meyerbeer pattern, which was originally devised with a cunning hand and a keen perception of the shallower fancies of the public. The duet for Chimene and Rodrigue in the third act is melodious and pretty in the composer’s “Werther” style, but Chimene’s “Mourir! L’ennemi qui t’attend” is made of commonplace recitative and cheap aria. The best thing in the camp scene is the ballet, and the miraculous vision of St. James of Compostello is a weariness to the flesh. In the last act there are flags and trumpets, and the rest is silence.
     The production of “Le Cid” was highly creditable to the managers of the opera house. There were several new and handsome scenes, and the pageantry of the opera was brilliant. The stage pictures were full of color, and the reproductions of Moorish architecture were bright and handsome. The ballet was excellently arranged and prettily danced, and for it the ballet master deserves hearty praise. The orchestra played well, and Signor Mancinelli did his duty by the composer with judgement and enthusiasm.
     The performance was the strength of the work. It may be said without any reservation that without such a setting and such interpreters as those of last night the opera would be a deadly piece of weariness. Even at best, M. Jean de Reszke was more or less of an appendage to a handsomely costumed balled, and the heartiest applause of the evening was evoked by some of the dancing. The famous tenor had little to do save stand in picturesque attitudes and declaim music upon which his voice bestowed unmerited favor. he had not a single opportunity to sing as he can sing or to act as he can act, and not all his art could save Rodrigue from being a mere operatic figurehead. His brother was more fortunate, for in Don Diegue he found a rôle which afforded him some opportunities for his finished style. The audience, in the early part of the evening at any rate, preferred M. Edouard de Reszke to M. Jean, and with reason. M. Plançon was admirable as the Comte de Gormas while he lasted, but he was killed off pretty early in the evening. M. Lassalle, who sang the comparatively unimportant part of the King to oblige the management, dignified it with his fine presence and his knowledge of operatic art. M. Jacques Bars was sufficient unto the evils of the Moorish messenger and the miraculous vision of the blessed St. James of Compostello.
     Mme Livinne was vigorous and earnest as Chimene, but at best the part is not one which can command the sympathy of an audience and the artist was far from being wholly to blame for her lack of success. Mlle. Clementine de Vere was a very meek and gentle Infanta, but her “Plus des tourments” partly because of its own pretty melody, and partly because of her excellent singing of it received some of the heartiest applause of the evening. A few more rehearsals would not have improved the performance, in which the chorus and supernumeraries betrayed a good deal of unfamiliarity with their stage business. But no serious fault should be found on this account for in general the work was excellently put on the stage. The audience was a large one but it did not find many opportunities for bursts of enthusiasm, and most of its applause was in the nature of tribute to the personal popularity of the singers.

Last updated December 30, 2006