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Bob’s
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Reviews — The New York Times
From the New York Times - November 18, 1909
MASSENET’S “SAPHO” IS DISAPPOINTING
Specifically Musical Element of Opera,
Heard Here for First Time Is Thin and Bare.
MARY GARDEN AS HEROINE
Her Performance Misconceived and Unsympathetic -
Messrs. Dalmores and Dufranne in Leading Roles.
Fanny Le Grand Miss Mary Garden
Jean Gaussin M. Dalmores
Divonne Mlle. D’Alverez
Irene Mme. WalterVilla
Caoudal M. Dufranne
Cesaire Gaussin M. Huberdeau
La Borderie M. Leroux
Innkeeper M. Villa
Musical Director M. Henriquez de la Fuente.
It did not seem, however, as if the spell was likely to be exerted by this latest specimen of the adept French master’s handicraft, although the opera had the advantage of Miss Garden’s popularity in the heroine’s part, and the cast was otherwise a good one, with Mr. Dalmores and Mr. Dufranne in the chief men’s parts.
Massenet’s muse, as there has been recent occasion to remark, is docile and tractable. She goes wherever he finds it advisable to lead her. There is no definite style of which he can be said to be an exemplar, and he is continually experimenting with the public taste. Inward dramatized, he has produced something of a different sort from his other operas known here.
There are five acts in “Sapho” as it is presented here. The first shows the meeting of Jean Gaussin, a shy young Provencal, come to Paris to study, with Fanny Legrand, known to the artists as Sapho, a model of notorious life, but strong personal attraction, at a costume ball given by the sculptor Caoudal. There is noisy dance music and a mad whirl of gayety, from which Jean withdraws, confused, and sings of his native country, a fine air, a broad and expressive cantabile, one of a very few that the opera contains. Fanny, whose fancy is captured by this young man, so strangely different from her friends, promptly makes his acquaintance; and as the guests are shouting for her to come to supper, takes him away with her.
In the next act he is found in his lodging, where his parents are installing him as a student. Jean sings the song of Frederic Mistral, “Magali,” which comes in again later to lend a touch of Provencal color to the piece. Here, with this exception and that of a fragment of his air from the first act, all is conversation in music, rapid and free declamation over a continually varied orchestral accompaniment - a style that has been made familiar in numerous of the later Italian lyric dramas.
Father and mother and Irene, a “jeune fille,” adopted by them, and evidently destined as the wife for Jean, say Goodbye. No sooner are they out of the door than Fanny comes in, unannounced, immediately takes possession of Jean and the apartment, and drives out all memory of his parents. Here is more of the conversational musical style, interrupted by a duet between these two that has the accent of passion enhanced, naturally, by its separation from other purely musical numbers.
In the third act the lovers are at a little outdoor restaurant near Paris, and still very happy, as they sing together in another duet of less substantial musical quality than the foregoing. There is an artists dinner at the place, and as the diners arrive there is more lively chorusing and an excruciating imitation of a wandering band.
Now by a chance word from Caoudal, the sculptor, Jean learns for the first time that Fanny is none other than Sapho, the notorious model, and he is told something of her past. He is thunderstruck and when Fanny reappears to join the party, she at once sees what has happened, as Jean turns upon her with rage, then leaves her. She sings her own rage to music much more declamatory than musical, and the scene is suddenly and violently brought to an end.
In the fourth act we are in Provence, where Jean has gone back to his parents. The “Magali” air is heard in the prelude, sung at a distance. Jean comes back to ask forgiveness, which he very promptly obtains from his mother, in an appropriate duet, followed by an affectionate air from Irene. And then who should appear but Sapho herself, with the obvious intention of reclaiming him. Jean is cold in his reception and keeps her in mind of her past and the impossibility of rejoining her. She goes away without him.
There is a long and not at all interesting prelude to the fifth act, which is entitled “Solitude.” Fanny is there alone in their lodging about to leave it, but even as she prepares to go Jean comes back to her. She prays him to go again, but he will not have it, and is ready to sacrifice all that life may hold for him. She promises to stay, but as he falls asleep in his chair she steals away and leaves him.
There are few orchestral phrases used to give the fundamental tone of this act, but music is here reduced to the lowest terms of vocal declamation and fragmentary support from the orchestra. A few of these orchestral phrases have vaguely the significance of “leading motives,” but they are used in a very sketching way and with very little positive issue musically. There is, in fact, not much of the Massenet of the earlier operas in this one. In those he always had something to give, musical ideas characteristic of something, if only of himself; by turns suave, elegant, sweetly tinctured, and then resonant, pompous, and brilliant, even if empty.
In “Sapho” the specifically musical element is thin and bare. All is fragmentary, declamatory, touched with spots of color, by the orchestra, emphasizing this and that dramatic point, but only grazing it. And it must be said, too, that very little of this material has distinction or vitality; little of it fires the imagination or touches the heart. It seems empty and cold, very mannered.
Miss Garden took the part of the heroine. It is the sort of part in which she has previously shown some of her histrionic ability; the contrast between a wickedness overcome by sentiments of a higher order, as she has exhibited it, for instance, in “Thaïs,” though in a very different guise. She brought out this contrast significantly in “Sapho,” as the fundamental element in her conception. Yet for whatever reason, whether the part is unsympathetic to her or not, she has not given so unsympathetic a performance in New York before.
Her impersonation of the Sapho of the costume ball was flamboyant and hard, showing small traces of the fascination that must have been exerted so seductive an influence upon the shy young countryman, and it is expressed with a gross exaggeration of all the mannerisms of gesture and posture and bodily writhing that she has made familiar in some other parts. When she is unmasked to her lover in the second act, she turns upon her artist friends with the shrill violence of a Billingsgate fishwife.
There is no remnant of the personal dignity that might be supposed to be left even in such a situation, with a woman of the womanly qualities that have been a potent factor in her relations with Jean. The character is misconceived and distorted. Of finesse or allurement there is nothing in the impersonation.
Many of Miss Garden’s admirers were disheartened at the manner of her singing this music. It is, after all, music, even when it is declamatory; but she made as little of at as possible, and lapsed frequently into the speaking voice. Her singing has never been so bad. The strident quality that used to reside in the upper tones was heard last evening in them all. There used to be expressive tones, often beautiful ones, in her middle and lower registers, but they were not heard in this music; and there was hardly a phrase in which there was purity or steadiness or an even tone.
Nor was Mr. Dalmores in his best voice; he sang explosively, with effort, and the beauty of his voice was at times strangely clouded. Mr. Dufranne was also afflicted with the prevailing tendency to violence in vocalization. The chorus sang with vigor, and the effect of the ball in the first act was boisterously carried out. The same pictures were adequate but they were not notable for beauty. Mr. de la Fuente put all his skill into bringing out the movement and the picturesque value of the score.
Last updated December 29, 2006