Charles Francois Gounod: A Research and Information Guide [1 ed.] 0415973511, 9780415973519, 9780203884270

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Charles François Gounod

Routledge Music Bibliographies

Composers Isaac Albéniz (1998) Walter A. Clark C. P. E. Bach (2002) Doris Bosworth Powers Samuel Barber (2001) Wayne C. Wentzel Béla Bartók, 2nd Edition (1997) Elliott Antokoletz Vincenzo Bellini (2002) Stephen A. Willier Alban Berg, 2nd Edition (2009) Bryan R. Simms Leonard Bernstein (2001) Paul F. Laird

Elliott Carter (2000) John L. Link

Charles Ives (2002) Gayle Sherwood

Carlos Chávez (1998) Robert Parker

Scott Joplin (1998) Nancy R. Ping-Robbins

Frédéric Chopin (1999) William Smialek

Zoltán Kodály (1998) Mícheál Houlahan and Philip Tacka

Aaron Copland (2001) Marta Robertson and Robin Armstrong Frederick Delius (2005) Mary L. Huisman Gaetano Donizetti (2000) James P. Cassaro Edward Elgar (1993) Christopher Kent Gabriel Fauré (1999) Edward R. Phillips

Franz Liszt, 3rd Edition (2009) Michael Saffle Guillaume de Machaut (1995) Lawrence Earp Gustav and Alma Mahler (2008) Susan M. Filler Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy (2001) John Michael Cooper

Johannes Brahms (2003) Heather Platt

Christoph Willibald Gluck, 2nd Edition (2003) Patricia Howard

Benjamin Britten (1996) Peter J. Hodgson

G.F. Handel, 2nd Edition (2004) Mary Ann Parker

Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina (2001) Clara Marvin

William Byrd, 2nd Edition (2005) Richard Turbet

Paul Hindemith, 2nd Edition (2009) Stephen Luttmann

Giacomo Puccini (1999) Linda B. Fairtile

Olivier Messiaen (2008) Vincent P. Benitez

Maurice Ravel (2004) Stephen Zank Gioachino Rossini (2002) Denise P. Gallo

Adrian Willaert (2004) David Michael Kidger Genres

Camille Saint-Saëns (2003) Timothy S. Flynn

American Music Librarianship (2005) Carol June Bradley

Alessandro and Domenico Scarlatti (1993) Carole F. Vidali

Central European Folk Music (1996) Philip V. Bohlman

Heinrich Schenker (2003) Benjamin Ayotte

Chamber Music, 2nd Edition (2002) John H. Baron

Alexander Scriabin (2004) Ellon D. Carpenter

Church and Worship Music (2005) Avery T. Sharp and James Michael Floyd

Jean Sibelius (1998) Glenda D. Goss

The Concerto (2006) Stephen D. Lindeman

Giuseppe Verdi (1998) Gregory Harwood

Ethnomusicology (2003) Jennifer C. Post

Tomás Luis de Victoria (1998) Eugene Casjen Cramer Richard Wagner (2002) Michael Saffle

Jazz Scholarship and Pedagogy, 3rd Edition (2005) Eddie S. Meadows

Music in Canada (1997) Carl Morey The Musical (2004) William A. Everett North American Indian Music (1997) Richard Keeling Opera, 2nd Edition (2001) Guy Marco Piano Pedagogy (2009) Gilles Comeau The Recorder, 2nd Edition (2003) Richard Griscom and David Lasocki Serial Music and Serialism (2001) John D. Vander Weg String Quartets (2005) Mara E. Parker The Violin (2006) Mark Katz Women in Music (2005) Karin Pendle

Charles François Gounod A Research and Information Guide

Timothy S. Flynn

ROUTLEDGE MUSIC BIBLIOGRAPHIES

First published 2009 by Routledge 270 Madison Ave, New York, NY 10016 Simultaneously published in the UK by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2008. “To purchase your own copy of this or any of Taylor & Francis or Routledge’s collection of thousands of eBooks please go to www.eBookstore.tandf.co.uk.”

© 2009 Taylor & Francis All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilized in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark Notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data A catalog record has been requested for this book ISBN 0-203-88427-2 Master e-book ISBN

ISBN10: 0–415–97351–1 (hbk) ISBN10: 0–203–88427–2 (ebk) ISBN13: 978–0–415–97351–9 (hbk) ISBN13: 978–0–203–88427–0 (ebk)

Contents

Preface Introduction

ix 1

PART 1

Gounod: Bibliographic Citations

25

1

General Studies

27

2

Primary Biographical Sources: Pre-1894

78

3

Secondary Biographical Sources

89

PART 2

Specialized Studies: Primary and Secondary Sources

117

4

Opera and Vocal Music

119

5

Instrumental Music

163

6

Gounod’s Writings

169

Appendix 1 Selected Manuscript Sources Appendix 2 Selected Gounod Correspondence Appendix 3 Miscellaneous Letters of Gounod Appendix 4 Selected Discography Appendix 5 Selected Listing of French Songs by Gounod Appendix 6 Listing of Selected Piano Works by Gounod Appendix 7 Chronology of Gounod’s Masses Appendix 8 Performances of Gounod’s Vocal Music in Salon Settings (1856–1870) Appendix 9 Selected Modern Editions of Gounod’s Music

193 197 200 203 213 216 224 226 230

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

Appendix 10 Selected Reviews of Gounod’s Music

239

Notes

251

Composer Index

257

Index of Compositions

260

Index of Authors and Translators

264

Preface

Charles Gounod (1818–1893) is credited with being among those composers who laid the foundation for the modern style of French music, which was influential upon composers well into the twentieth century. His musical style displays a suavity, an “emotional charm,” and a sweetness extolled by many critics and musicians alike.1 Although best known during his life as a composer of opera and sacred music, Gounod is also recognized as the “first mélodie composer of genius” and consequently became a significant influence upon an entire lineage of song composers from Saint-Saëns and Fauré to Debussy and Ravel.2 Celebrated during his lifetime as both a savior of sacred music and a master of opera, it is rather surprising that this important composer, who wrote in literally every genre of his day, has been relegated to footnotes in music history and is remembered for a limited number of compositions. It is the hope that this tool will inspire and support a renewed interest in this valuable composer whose music and place in history is worthy of re-evaluation. The purpose of this tool is to offer a glimpse of some of the more important primary and secondary sources available pertaining to the life and music of Charles Gounod. This source is divided into two main sections: general studies, which explore musical and cultural elements concerning the period of Gounod’s rather long life; and the remainder of this volume is devoted to the music and biography of the composer himself. This second section is appropriately subdivided into the following categories: scholarly materials which explore Gounod’s biography (both primary and secondary sources); material pertaining to his vocal music (opera, sacred music and song); writings which investigate the instrumental music (organ, orchestral and chamber); and finally a section which examines Gounod as a writer of articles, essays, and correspondence. In addition, this volume presents a catalog of musical manuscripts culled from a variety of sources, including valuable musical manuscripts found in the Northwestern University Music Library; and a list of letters, both to and from Gounod, which are held in various libraries in the United States and Europe. Other appendices include a selected discography organized by genre; a listing of Gounod’s French songs; a listing of his piano compositions, including those originally composed for the piano and others which Gounod himself arranged for that instrument; and a chronology of his Mass settings. The indices that follow will enable the user to search composers, compositions, authors and translators mentioned throughout the annotations. While this source is not

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

meant to be exhaustive, the author feels that the materials selected for inclusion will offer the most well-rounded representation of Gounod, both as a composer and as a person. Some of these sources are clearly biased—favorably or unfavorably—in their content and approach to the subject matter; however, this demonstrates the range of sentiment pertaining to the composer and his music. The present author has attempted a balance of primary and secondary sources, as well as some dated materials, which will hopefully give the reader an understanding of why Gounod was, at one time, ranked among the most famous composers in history, and is still today considered one of France’s musical treasures. His music and career are truly deserving of reappraisal and it is hoped that this source will aid in that process. To assist the researcher in locating and obtaining items investigated in this monograph, Library of Congress call numbers have been included in the citation as well as ISBN numbers. However, it should be noted that ISBN numbers did not come into wide usage until the mid-1960s and since that time they have undergone various changes. Therefore, many of the sources published prior to this time are not assigned ISBN numbers. Additionally, there are several journal articles analyzed in this monograph that can be accessed using JSTOR. The stable website URL is given in the citations to facilitate accession of these specific articles electronically. In working on a project such as this there are numerous people whose support has been invaluable. To all of these people I would like to offer my sincere gratitude. Profound thanks are due to: Marja Hendrick and Gretchen Peters (Olivet College Inter-library loan), Jane Reither (Olivet College Library Director), Margie Wood (Northwestern University Music Library Acquisitions), D.J. Hoek (Director of the Northwestern University Music Library), Don Roberts (former Director of the Northwestern University Music Library), Norma Curtis (Academic Dean, Olivet College) and Dr. Donald Tuski (President, Olivet College). I am most grateful to Dean Curtis and Dr. Tuski for the extra time they allowed me to complete this study while fulfilling my teaching and administrative duties, and for their overall support of the Performing Arts at Olivet College. I would also like to thank my family—my parents, Amy and George Eldridge and my sister, Susan Flynn—for their continued support and encouragement in all my endeavors. Finally, I would especially like to thank my partner, Dr. Michael Nealon, whose presence in my life is always a source of strength and support. A true gentleman and a scholar, he is a man of great character and he is the kindest and most brilliant person I know. It is to him that this humble volume is dedicated with much gratitude and enduring love.

Introduction

Biographical sketch Charles Gounod (1818–1893) is one of many great composers remembered today by most people for a limited number of compositions. As Camille SaintSaëns is remembered for his Carnival des animaux, Gustav Holst for The Planets, and Englebert Humperdinck for Hänsel und Gretel, although they were all more productive and well-rounded composers, Gounod is perhaps best remembered for his operatic masterpiece Faust. However, upon closer investigation, there is much more to this prolific, complex, and extremely important composer whose career, along with Hector Berlioz and Camille Saint-Saëns, was one of the most influential upon French musical culture of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Gounod’s musical studies were begun by his mother, herself a gifted pianist and a one-time student of Adolphe Adam’s father. In his Autobiographical Reminiscences, one of the best sources of information on his early life, the composer praised his mother’s musical talent as well as her abilities as an actress, and he acknowledged his debt to her for her guidance during his youth.1 It was with her assistance that the young Gounod’s musical talents were discovered and nurtured. From his father, Gounod inherited other artistic gifts. FrançoisLouis was a talented painter whose skill and ability was praised by none other than Gérard, Gros, and Joseph Vernet. Also, his father was an intimate friend of Denon, the curator of the Louvre Museum, who likewise believed the elder Gounod to be an extremely talented draftsman and etcher and consequently offered him work on behalf of the museum.2 The younger Gounod—like his father before him—was also a talented painter and draftsman, and later in life he was even offered a place at the Villa Medici by Ingres himself, if he were to apply again for the Prix de Rome as a painter!3 With this pedigree in both visual arts and music, Charles Gounod first made his impressions upon the world. Anton Reicha, the noted theorist and composer, assessed Gounod’s abilities as a youth and took him on as a student where, after a year of study, he was well versed in counterpoint.4 Perhaps the most profound experience Gounod had during this time in his musical development was his encounter with Mozart’s Don Giovanni. In his Autobiographical Reminiscences, Gounod describes the

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

impact the performance of this work had upon him—an impression which lasted his entire life.5 His reverence for Mozart, and especially this opera, would inspire Gounod to write a lengthy analytical essay on the work in 1890.6 Upon Reicha’s death, Gounod was admitted into Halévy’s theory class at the Conservatory and while there he also studied composition with Berton, LeSueur, and Päer in succession. After two unsuccessful attempts at the Prix de Rome, Gounod finally took first prize and achieved a lifetime’s ambition to study abroad. This event not only launched his professional career as a composer, but made lasting impressions upon him both spiritually and musically which affected him for the remainder of his life. Another event that made an enduring impression upon the young Gounod was his acquaintance with Hector Berlioz and his music. This occurred during his time as a student of Halévy at the Conservatoire. Gounod recounts his association with Berlioz and his intimate knowledge of the composer’s scores, including the Romeo and Juliette Symphony, Symphonie Fantastique, Harold in Italy, the Enfance du Christ, and La Damnation de Faust. Gounod admitted that “Berlioz was one of the greatest emotional influences” of his youth.7 Unfortunately, a complete study of this has yet to be undertaken. His time away from Paris on the Prix de Rome (1840–1843) was arguably the most significant event in his career as a composer. While in Rome Gounod came to know several important artists including Dominique Ingres, Georges Bosquet, Pauline Viardot, and Fanny Hensel. It was from Fanny Hensel that he gained a more intimate knowledge of the music of her brother Felix and the music of J. S. Bach, not to mention “various masterpieces of German music which [he] had never heard before.”8 His acquaintance with Pauline Viardot would be beneficial upon his return to France, for she would encourage the young composer to write his first opera, Sapho, for her. She also secured performances of it by merely lending her name and voice to the project. During this time Gounod also studied Goethe’s Faust, which his mother had packed in his suitcases, and it was upon a trip to Naples that the idea for the “Walpurgis Night” came to him. By his own admission, he made notes for his operatic setting during this time, which he hoped to use whenever he might attempt the composition.9 Music he composed during his sojourn in Italy included some of his more celebrated songs, “Le Vallon” and “Le Soir,” and a setting of the Mass Ordinary, which was performed at the church of San Luigi dei francese.10 One of the more enduring influences on Gounod during his time in Italy came from his introduction to the music of Palestrina and the impressions of the artwork of Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel. Despite his complaints about the poor quality of sacred music performance, the young composer was nevertheless taken by the intensity and religious fervor of the music at the chapel and what he viewed as Palestrina’s musical translations of Michelangelo’s artworks.11 The musical style of Palestrina, so much at odds with the majority of contemporary sacred music, inspired and influenced Gounod’s ideas on the potential of modern religious music. He upheld Palestrina’s music as the paradigm of effective religious music throughout his lifetime.

Introduction

3

Gounod’s time on the Prix de Rome continued in Vienna, Berlin, and Leipzig, where he met Felix Mendelssohn. While in Vienna, Gounod was commissioned to compose a setting of the Requiem by Count Stockhammer for All Soul’s Day which, despite the brevity of time allowed for the compositional process, was well performed and met with acclaim. This success led to another commis-sion by the Count for a second Mass, which was performed by the Philharmonic Society.12 From Vienna the composer went to Berlin where he renewed his acquaintance with Fanny Hensel before continuing on, a couple of weeks later, to Leipzig to meet her brother Felix Mendelssohn.13 His meeting with Mendelssohn was inspiring; Gounod was impressed by the composer and was given much encouragement. During his time there, Gounod heard the Gewandhaus Orchestra play Mendelssohn’s “Scotch” Symphony and Mendelssohn himself played some of the organ music of Bach for the impressionable Gounod.14 This experience made a great and lasting impression upon Gounod and it helped to intensify his own admiration for both Mendelssohn and the music of J. S. Bach. Finally, Gounod arrived home in Paris in May of 1843. He was greeted by a new position, which his mother helped to secure, as chapel master of the church of the Missions Etrangères. This was a rather unworthy post, after his experiences in Italy and Vienna, for at this church Gounod was faced with an unacceptable instrument, and for his choir he had two basses, a tenor and one choirboy. With these forces he tried to serve the parish, but with lack of support and vastly different tastes in what he and the faithful considered to be appropriate sacred music, Gounod eventually resigned his position in 1848.15 During his time as a church musician, he was reunited with a childhood friend and priest, Charles Gay. It was also at this time that the composer himself felt drawn to Holy Orders. For a period of time Gounod studied theology and philosophy at the seminary of St. Sulpice; however, the call of the stage proved too tenacious. In 1849 Gounod became re-acquainted with the famous singer, Pauline Viardot, and this renewal of friendship led him to compose his first opera, Sapho. Despite the support of Viardot, Nestor Roqeplan, and complimentary critical judgment from Berlioz, the opera was not successful; however, Gounod remained dedicated to the lyric stage. He also held the position of superintendent of instruction in singing to the communal schools in the city of Paris, and he was likewise director of the Orphéon choral society, a position that he held from 1852 until 1860. It was during this period in his career that Gounod composed his two symphonies (no. 1 in D and no. 2 in E-flat), both of which are gems of classical clarity and concision, and they contain a suavité and delicacy, which are hallmarks of his style. It was during this time that Gounod achieved a powerful synthesis of the sacred and profane musical language which is manifest in his famous Messe solenelle de Ste. Cécile. Composed for St. Cecilia’s day celebrations of 1855 and premiered at St. Eustache, this work demonstrates the composer’s best efforts in blending the operatic style with church music—a task at which many of his colleagues tried and failed. Gounod was able to deftly add elements of the dramatic at just the right moment to highlight the sacred text, and he does not

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

push the limits of acceptability. This Mass was followed by several secular stage works including La nonne sanglante (1854), which had at one time been offered to Berlioz and even Verdi, and Le médecin malgré lui (1858), which is viewed by many as not only a comic masterpiece, but a fine example of Gounod’s musical ability to truly capture the essence and character of the text. Premiering the following year (1859) was the unqualified masterpiece, Faust, which, while having stood the test of time as an important opera in the repertory, did “not strike the public very much at first.”16 However, it did turn out to be, by the composer’s own admission, “the greatest theatrical success [he had] ever had.”17 It is true that Faust is the work with which Gounod is most readily associated; however, after that opera came a succession of other dramatic works which were received with varying degrees of success: the two-act Philémon et Baucis (1860), La reine de Saba (1862) which was a rather miserable failure, the nationalistic Mireille (1864) based upon Mistral’s poem, and Roméo et Juliette (1867). It is clear from this that Gounod was preoccupied with composing for the lyric stage in the period before the Franco–Prussian War (pre-1870), and from the works during this time two stand out as unique examples in their own right and worthy of reappraisal: Mireille and Roméo et Juliette. It can be argued that with the opera Mireille Gounod was the father of the so-called “verismo” style even before the Italian school. This opera has all of the basic characteristics that have come to define “verismo” opera, but it was actually composed over 25 years before Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana.18 Here, the composer draws upon a Provençal text, set in a local area with traditional folk-like music (the farandole), employs all the color (outdoor festivities and celebrations) of the Provençal people, and imitates traditional music. Gounod actually went to Provence and spent time composing the work there, soaking in the local ambience and atmosphere. With this said, Mireille becomes an important work, not only in the history of French opera, but in opera in general. Despite its uniqueness, this opera gave Gounod some trouble and it went through numerous revisions and changes; unfortunately it did not achieve the success that he had hoped. Roméo et Juliette, on the other hand, fared better with the public—some believing it to be a worthy successor of Faust—and it demonstrates the composer’s ability to successfully capture the characters of Romeo and Juliet in music. It has also been noted that perhaps the score betrays some Wagnerian influences, which may account for its popularity today.19 Regardless, this opera has consistently received more performances in opera houses in recent times, than any other of Gounod’s operas with the exception of Faust. This may be due in part to the convincing characters of Romeo, Juliet and Friar Lawrence, not to mention the memorable solos and duets wherein Gounod effectively captures the Shakespearian model as well known to audiences now as in nineteenth century France. With the outbreak of the Franco–Prussian War, Gounod moved his family to the safety of England where he remained until 1874. Putting the channel between him and the unrest in his homeland, Gounod continued to compose and there he founded the Royal Albert Hall Choral Society. Capitalizing upon the English love of choral music and oratorio, he composed Gallia, a work which

Introduction

5

lamented the defeat of his beloved France, and various other choral pieces and parlor songs in both French and English. While, in general, these songs were not some of Gounod’s best efforts, they represent the composer’s attempt to follow the trend in English popular ballad composition and more pragmatically, he composed them for purely financial reasons.20 This period of Gounod’s biography includes a rather bizarre and ultimately unpleasant incident, the depths of which have yet to be totally explored: his relationship with Georgina and Harry Weldon, his English patrons. Nothing points to an actual, physical affair with Georgina, but their relationship seems to have been one of mutual exploitation: Gounod lived in the Weldon’s home rent free where he had time to compose, be pampered by both Georgina and Harry Weldon, and from where he could continue to have a base in London. Mrs. Weldon, on the other hand, had the honor of attending to Gounod, which brought her some degree of social standing, and she could garner his support for her own amateurish musical endeavors, both as a singer and a self-proclaimed pedagogue. However seductive the possibilities of a serene existence with the Weldons seemed, Gounod was dealing with a scheming and manipulative woman who had “collected” her famous composer.21 During their time together, and despite all the machinations, Gounod managed to compose over 60 songs, two Mass settings, some psalms and anthems, the scores to Polyeucte, Jeanne d’Arc and the unfinished Georges Dandin; he also began preliminary work on his oratorio, The Redemption. The “old man,” as the Weldons called him, even had established what would have been considered back in Paris a “salon,” where artists such as Edgar Degas paid visits.22 However, his professional life in England was less than placid: he had arguments with the Royal Albert Hall administration; he was involved in litigations against the music publisher Novello; and English society looked askance at his relationship with Georgina Weldon, which added to his professional tribulations.23 People’s tongues were wagging across the channel back in France, too. By 1874, Gounod had extracted himself from Georgina’s clutches, though not without rancor and much amertume and unfortunately, not completely. After Gounod’s departure, Georgina Weldon kept certain musical manuscripts, including Polyeucte, which involved them in a long-distance legal battle, and she continued to write and publish on the subject of her “old man.” However, the damage was done. Gounod’s time with the Weldons not only tarnished his reputation in England somewhat, but it also resulted in some lack of respect at home. Eventually he was able to weather the storm and renew his professional fortunes though, as both England and France were willing to forgive and forget. Gounod’s English odyssey is not discussed in any detail in many of the primary and early secondary sources. Some authors ignore it totally. Perhaps the subject matter was considered too distasteful or maybe authors felt it was disrespectful to dredge up earlier indiscretions of the composer. For whatever reasons, the reader is left with Georgina Weldon’s own accounts of the time in question which obviously reveal her own very strong biases. Upon his return to France, Gounod’s musical productivity was a shadow of his former days. His opera Cinq Mars debuted at the Opéra-Comique in 1877 and was

6

Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

actually a reasonable success. After his long absence, the public was anxious to hear from the venerable musician, and his return to the stage was warmly welcomed. However, the work is not without weaknesses. Comparisons have been made to Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots and parallels to his own Roméo et Juliette have been drawn. Some of the music in Cinq Mars, such as “Nuit resplendissante,” is reminiscent of Gounod’s earlier more Italianate operatic tunes.24 Though, his final operatic offerings—Polyeucte, and Le Tribut de Zamora—were not the great successes of Faust and Roméo et Juliette, there is indeed some very fine music contained in each. His operatic style by this time had become rather passé and oldfashioned compared with other works, especially given the growing fondness in France for the musical style of Wagner. During the final years of his career, Gounod devoted his creative energies to religious compositions, namely, Mass settings and oratorios. From this time also comes some instrumental works, such as the string quartet in A minor (no. 3), the delightful Petite symphonie for wind instruments, and more sacred songs and choruses. He also dedicated some of his twilight years to writing everything from his own autobiography to prefaces and introductions to works by and about others. In addition, Gounod penned essays on such varied topics as the artist in modern society, an appreciation of Mozart’s Don Giovanni, and several reviews of music by his friend and colleague, Camille Saint-Saëns. From the 1880s until his death Gounod was regarded in France and in Europe as the “incarnation of modern French music” and the “mantle of the patriarch descended upon willing shoulders,” according to James Harding.25 As he entered into this phase of his life and career, it is little surprise that the religious mania, so prevalent in his early decades, affected his final years, and that his last musical utterances would be in the realm of sacred vocal music. In essence, his career and life as a composer would come full circle. His oratorio, The Redemption, which was commissioned by and performed at the Birmingham Festival in 1882, is a musical depiction of the history of salvation; no small undertaking. A sacred trilogy, the oratorio recounts the Passion and Resurrection of Christ and concludes with the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. The effect of 400 singers and an orchestra of 140 was described as thrilling.26 The composition was successful not only in England, but on the continent as well, taking its place in the pantheon of the oratorio, alongside Handel’s and Mendelssohn’s contributions. While creative and effective in many aspects, there remain nevertheless some weak and disappointing moments, which demonstrate Gounod’s conflicting musical personality: sacred and profane. Approximately four years later in 1885, the composer was again invited to the Birmingham Festival to conduct his new oratorio, Mors et Vita. It too was as successful as The Redemption, and Queen Victoria herself ordered a command performance. However, due to legal wrangling with Georgina Weldon, Gounod was obliged to remain at home for the royal command performance.27 It is interesting that this intensely Catholic composition was so popular in Protestant England, but no doubt the effects of 1,000 performers, the sheer mass of sound they created, and the overall dramatic conception of the work helped galvanize its popularity with the English public.

Introduction

7

The last few years of his life were occupied with reworking and composing settings of the Mass, a setting of the Pater Noster (for five-voice choir and soloists), a handful of sacred songs including the famous “Repentir” (or “O Divine Redeemer”), an “Ave Maria,” and his famous autobiography, Mémoires d’un artiste, along with other essays. A fitting end to his life, when his last moments came, Gounod had just played for Mass at his parish church in St. Cloud. Upon returning home he sat at the piano to work on a setting of the Requiem, which he was composing in memory of his grandson, Maurice, who had died at the age of five years. He was struck with a seizure and lay in a coma for three days before expiring peacefully.28 Gounod’s life and career ended as it had begun, as a church musician. Upon his death, Gounod was well respected by his colleagues and perhaps even venerated by some. Debussy praised him for not belonging to any specific school of composition.29 Rather, Gounod believed that a “work of art [was] the progeny of a common mother—Nature; and of a distinct father—the artist.”30 He likewise believed that “in art, as elsewhere, reason must counterbalance passion, and thence it follows that all artistic work of the very highest class leaves an impression of calm—that sign of real power.”31 It can be said that this was perhaps the guiding principle of his musical style—reason over passion. Likewise, it was this calmness and self-control that remained hallmarks of his style. And while he was not, as Debussy noted, a follower of any school, he actually unwittingly established and laid the foundation for a French musical style which would pervade his and succeeding generations. Gounod remained true to his own ideas and style, which while perhaps fading over the course of his career and lifetime, are nevertheless examples of his dedication to an artistic approach and fashion which modeled for an entire generation the principles of clarity, balance, and suavité. Uniquely enough, these same qualities helped to establish a national style which influenced composers from Fauré and Saint-Saëns to Debussy, Ravel and Poulenc. Gounod’s Musical Style and Influence Gounod’s professional activity as a composer and musician can roughly be divided into three main periods: the first from 1839 to 1859; the second beginning in 1860 and lasting through the Franco–Prussian War of 1870; and the final period from 1871 until the end of his life in 1893. Despite the differences in musical form and genres during these years, there are common threads, which indicate a consistency of purpose, aesthetic principle, and dedication to craftsmanship however uneven the quality and musical effect might have been at times. The first period begins with Gounod’s receipt of the coveted Prix de Rome in 1839, and his study abroad in Rome and Vienna, and ends with the premiere of his opera Faust. This work is a crossroad for Gounod: simultaneously it is the culmination of his early years as a composer, and it is likewise the work that established him as a musical celebrity. The experiences Gounod enjoyed in

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

Rome, Vienna, and Leipzig not only had an impact upon him professionally, but aesthetically as well. While in Rome, he was captivated by the purity and majesty of the music of Palestrina, which lead him to a greater sense of economy of means and concision in his own music. Palestrina’s music also imbued some of Gounod’s own compositions with a dignity and nobility that was lacking in the operatically conceived contemporary sacred music. One of the main compositions from this first period, which demonstrates an austerity and simplicity of style, yet which does not lack force and originality, is the Les sept paroles du Christ sur la Croix from 1855. Here Gounod manages to capture the purity and clarity of the “a cappella” tradition of Palestrina and the Roman school. Overall this multi-movement work is declamatory in nature; however, Gounod varies the musical texture with ease and frequency, thus enabling the music to hold the listener’s attention. He also employs motivic development, which adds to the restrained dramatic quality of each movement. Often Gounod uses a choral recitative style of writing, which he effectively utilizes later in other works such as the Prologue to Roméo et Juliette. Harmonically this work is rather conservative with colorful chromatic passages exploited sparingly but to great effect. This is a work that in many ways is an important contribution to the struggle to purify sacred music of the time, and it is clearly modeled upon the “a cappella” hymn tradition of the Holy Week liturgy in Rome.32 In addition to this, Gounod composed a number of small sacred works, namely motets, no doubt for his own use at the parish which he served or for publication to help establish himself and to further the cause of contemporary sacred music. During this first period of professional activity, Gounod composed his initial attempts at dramatic stage works—both opera and incidental music. In many ways these contributions are generally in an ascetic and severe style that, while winning the praise and support of some critics, were not always a popular success. At the composer’s own admission, his first opera Sapho (1851) lacked “theatrical instinct” and a “want of knowledge of stage effect.”33 While the young composer may not have taken full advantage of the theatrical effects of Meyerbeer and others, there is nevertheless some striking and classically beautiful music, such as Sapho’s aria “O ma lyre immortelle.” Here Gounod demonstrates his talent for lyrically expansive and carefully wrought melody such as can be found in many of his early songs including “Le soir” and “Le vallon.” He also uses an unobtrusive yet complimentary accompaniment—again a characteristic of his song repertoire—which supports the voice and highlights the spirit of the text without overpowering or obscuring it. Gounod’s classical austerity was more successful in and suited to his incidental music for Ponsard’s Ulisse (1852). This work was greeted enthusiastically by the public and it helped establish his name in this early stage of his career. Perhaps Gounod’s most famous work, prior to that of Faust, is the Messe Solennelle de Ste. Cécile (1855). Here the composer was able to add various subtle dramatic elements to his sober and refined style, hence combining both sides of his musical and personal nature: the sacred and secular. Containing some very distinct operatic ingredients, namely the angelic opening of the “Gloria,” the tenor aria in the “Sanctus,” and the

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orchestration of the “Credo,” the composer also juxtaposes these with much more muted and restrained elements, including the chant-like soprano solo of the “Benedictus” and the chant-like choral sections of the opening “Kyrie.” Possibly what made this work so popular was the restraint with which Gounod tinted his musical palette to highlight the inherent dramatic portions of the sacred text without sinking into a tasteless and overwrought exhibition of musical theatrics. In this Mass, the composer vacillates between simple, straightforward melodies and expansive, unrestrained operatic melodies, some of which are reserved for the soloists. This technique demonstrates Gounod’s careful attention to the text; this was always a concern of his. According to authors such as Frits Noske, Graham Johnson, and Kenneth Langevin, Gounod was very concerned with the proper accentuation and delivery of the texts he set.34 While their observations are in conjunction with the composer’s song repertory, this can also be applied to setting of sacred texts as well. The manuscript of the “Benedictus” from this Mass, housed at the Northwestern University Music Library, shows how Gounod changed the rhythm in the soprano solo from what he had originally conceived, to more accurately accent the Latin text. The delicate and understated setting of this text also demonstrates the composer’s care with the liturgical and dramatic effect: it comes at the most sacred point in the Mass, that of the transubstantiation of the elements of bread and wine. Gounod’s harmonic style in this work also heightens the dramatic character of the text. In the “Kyrie” the first petition is strongly in G major; however, at the “Christ eleison” Gounod introduces the ♭VI harmony (E ♭) and then move to B-flat major, the ♭III of the original G major. Throughout the work the composer favors the use of modal mixture. He does so directly, keeping common tones (such as the g between I and ♭VI). Other interesting harmonic progressions occur in the “Gloria” movement at the dramatic “et incarnatus est.” Here Gounod begins in F major (the IV of the home key of the movement) and then moves the tenor voice up a half step from c to c ♯ to move into a phrase in A major which comes to rest on a half cadence. The g ♯ becomes enharmonically an a ♭, and the E major chord moves the b to b ♯, and the e down to a d ♯, thus creating a G ♯ major chord which is then respelled as A ♭ major. This is a very subtle and rather tender moment in what is otherwise a very grand and majestic movement. The choral portion of the “Sanctus” has similar enharmonic modulations, which give a fine sense of the angelic choirs filling the sacred space. Gounod too continues to favor the ♭ VI key area, this time D-flat major in the key of F major. The D ♭ major harmony proceeds to G ♭ major (the Neapolitan, or ♭ II of the home key of F) and the G ♭ is the enharmonic spelling of F ♯ which moves the harmonies to D major and even as far as B major. This is an extremely effective and dramatic use of enharmonic spelling and common tone modulation. In the “Agnus Dei” Gounod moves deftly from D major (the key of the movement) to B♭ major (again, the ♭VI relationship) for the troped text “Domine non sum dignus” (the prayer that the priest says during communion). The home key of D major returns only to reintroduce modal mixture (again B ♭) when the soprano

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

soloist sings the trope, “Domine non sum dignus.” The movement again returns to D major to end the Mass. However, Gounod cannot resist one last statement of modal mixture in the final cadence of the movement. In the key of D major, he writes: V7/IV moving to minor iv (G minor) then leading back to I. The composer utilizes modal mixture on the microscopic and macroscopic levels in this Mass to a full dramatic effect and to color what sometimes are otherwise straightforward harmonic progressions. The two symphonies composed during this same period of musical activity also demonstrate Gounod’s fondness for using modal mixture, but they also betray the influence of Mozart, Beethoven and even Gounod’s friend, Mendelssohn. Within these works the composer follows a typically classical orchestration and formal design. However, despite this, he still demonstrates a freshness and originality in melody and harmony with subtle elements of cyclic unity in Symphony no. 1 in D major (1855). Gounod admitted that he composed his first symphony to “solace” his disappointment at the failure of his second opera La nonne sanglante. The symphony, written for the Société des Jeunes Artistes, was so well received that he composed his second one for them too, although according to Gounod himself, it achieved only a “certain success.”35 In the first symphony the composer favors modal mixture, using D minor for the second movement and F major for the Scherzo before returning to the original D major for the finale. To emphasize the harmonic importance of the ♭ III on the microcosmic level, he uses A ♭ major in the F major Scherzo and then, at the conclusion of the final movement in D major, he juxtaposes F major with D major before the final cadence. Thus the flat major mediant ( ♭ III) relationship becomes more acutely apparent. In the second movement, Gounod betrays his indebtedness to the second movement of Beethoven’s seventh symphony. Here the haunting theme and variations unfold, layering instruments as it develops. Both Beethoven’s and Gounod’s movements contain a fugal episode, each of which is in a major key, before fading away at the conclusion. The second symphony of Gounod, in E ♭ major, is a larger and more dramatic work than its predecessor. Here, the composer even explores more distantly related tonal areas within a movement; for example, he introduces E major into E ♭ major in the development of the first movement. The work also contains more gestural thematic material throughout, favoring a character of constant development. The slow movement of the second symphony shows Gounod at his most mellifluous and it is unquestionably a highly developed opera aria for orchestra. His Scherzo movement is worthy of the title, while the Scherzo of the first symphony is in actuality an especially elegant Minuet. This work is larger and more serious and weighty than the first symphony; perhaps this is why it did not achieve the same success. In many ways, both of these very fine and admirable symphonies— which deserve to be heard more often by the general public—exemplify a synthesis of the German symphonic school with a heavy dose of French élan and finesse. Here Gounod reveals that he can indeed be taken seriously as a symphonic composer and history is all the poorer in that he left only two offerings in the genre.

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This first period of creativity is marked by classical simplicity and elegant refinement that remained with him throughout his career, and his comic opera, Le médecin malgré lui (1858), displays this beautifully. While the arias are among the most charming tunes he had written up to that time, it is in the larger ensembles—the trios and even the sextet—where Gounod displays his ingenuity for handling multiple voices and a talent for giving each person his or her unique character. In this work Gounod manages to truly capture the comic temperament and personality of each character in the music. This he does with lyrical melodies and a unique rhythmic energy, which enlivens the music and propels the comedy. Especially effective scenes include Leandre’s lyrical serenade, “Est-on sage,” Sganarelle’s patter-song aria, “Qu’ils sont doux,” and his incantation scene within the sextet, which is one of the highlights of the entire work. Harmonically Gounod speaks with simplicity and diatonically, and the mixture of patter-song style couplets and expressive melodies with charming straightforward harmony makes this comic opera a gem in the composer’s repertory. While some influence of Rossini might be detected in this work, it eschews the bombastic and at times frenetic elements typical of many of Rossini’s comic operas. Faust (1859) is the climax of Gounod’s first period of composition, and in many ways this opera is a capstone work: its grandiose topic, its musical originality, its melodic and harmonic inventiveness, and its colorful orchestration have continued to maintain the work as a staple in American and European opera houses to the present day. This work is in many ways everything that is unique in Gounod’s style and musical personality. In the Introduction to the opera (Gounod does not label it an Overture), the composer sets up a struggle between good and evil, which is in many ways, omnipresent in the opera. Beginning with a slow and eerie Adagio, the F minor harmonies, with much additional chromatic interest, give way to a fugal Andante section, all of which hints at the struggle about to occur. However, this darkness and foreboding gives way to the bright theme (in F major) from Valentine’s aria, “Avant de quitter ces lieux,” in which the heroic character prays to God for protection for his sister, Marguerite, while he is away in battle. Throughout the opera, Gounod deftly uses various techniques and styles to great dramatic effect. The church scene in Act IV combines a somber, severe style with the use of the organ and the pseudo-chant of the choir, with dramatic recitative of Mephistopheles and Marguerite to achieve a spectacular theatrical moment. The combination of dramatic and sacred elements is a foretaste of what Puccini attains at the conclusion of Act I of Tosca. Some of the most dramatic and effective scenes include the arias in which Gounod defines the personalities of the three main characters: Marguerite, Faust, and Mephistopheles. A true master at musical characterization, Gounod manages to paint Mephistopheles as a slick, debonair dandy in the simplistic couplets of “Le veau d’or,” while he defines Faust as a lovesick and ardent young man, truly captivated with Marguerite, moved by a very pure and holy love. In “Salut demeure, chaste et pure” Gounod employs the simple and traditional ABA1 format for the aria. However, the musical style is at once both

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

intense and longing. Faust sings in duet with the solo violin, the simple counterpoint of which shows the composer at his most tender. Harmonically, the aria is replete with surprises and subtle turns. Gounod favors common tone harmonic shifts: the root in an A ♭ major triad immediately becomes the third of an E major triad and the composer moves adroitly from A ♭ and E major. In the B section of the aria, Gounod moves from B ♭ major to F (its dominant) and then repeats the sequence, now moving from B ♭ major to F ♯ major (a raised V or enharmonically a ♭VI of B ♭), but he uses the F ♯ major as the dominant of B major where he proceeds to move. From the F ♯ major harmony, Gounod continues on to G major, the ♭VI of B major. Again, the composer is favoring modal mixture throughout the aria, as he has done in previous works. The upward movement of this sequence gives a great sense of climax to the section before returning to A ♭ major of the A section. In her “Jewel Song” Marguerite is portrayed as a capricious and vain young girl; however, Gounod continues to develop her character throughout, as he does with Faust. These characters are not simply one-dimensional. The waltz style of the aria appropriately captures her personality at that moment and the occasional roulades in the voice part, echoed by the orchestra, create a glimmering dialogue. Again, in a simple ABA’ form, Gounod concentrates upon vocal display and musical characterization of Marguerite. In her duet with Faust at the conclusion of Act III, “Laisse-moi contemplé,” she is portrayed as a more mature and serious young lady, while in the church scene of Act IV she is a woman who is in crisis both spiritually and mentally.36 In this scene she turns from tender prayer to frantic questioning, and finally to desperation and despair. Gounod manages all of this through music—melody, harmony, musical effect and orchestration. The final trio of the opera, “Anges purs, anges radieux,” is both a musical and dramatic climax of the entire work. The main melody is expansive and through constant modulation and use of the rosalia, Gounod reaches higher and higher with each statement, thus creating intensity and a dramatic thrust which propels the opera to its conclusion. The first statement of the trio theme is in G major, sung by Marguerite alone; the next statement is in A major (strikingly achieved by V7 of A, or an E major triad). Here both Faust and Mephistopheles join Marguerite; however, their melodic contribution is simple and declamatory while she continues with the main theme. Another modulation by means of a V7/II impels the music forward and higher to B major. Here Faust joins Marguerite in the melody for much of the time, while Mephistopheles has a simple counterpoint to them. In this trio Gounod employs such simple means to create a powerful and dramatic conclusion sung by the principle characters. A brief chorus—the Apotheosis—declaims that Marguerite is redeemed and that Christ is raised from the dead to bring peace and salvation: a triumphant coda to the opera. The music of Gounod’s second period—the decade of 1860 to 1870—consists primarily of smaller compositions (motets and piano pieces); however, there are also over two dozen songs, and two important contributions to the lyric stage: Mireille (1864) and Roméo et Juliette (1867). While this phase of activity

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does not reveal any departure in music style, it does offer some important musical contributions that have been overlooked by succeeding generations on the whole. The song repertory of Gounod (both pre-1870 and post-1870) has been explored previously.37 Here the composer plays a valuable role as what Maurice Ravel and others have identified as the “true founder of the art song in France.”38 Songs from this period include the exotic “Medjé,” labeled by the composer himself as a “chanson arabe,” numerous settings of poetry by Lamartine, settings by the librettist Barbier, and a few piano arrangements of songs he had composed during the 1840s. Gounod elevates the traditional “romance” to something more worthy of professional and artistic performance. As a rule, piano accompaniments are more significant, and while they never obscure or compete with the voice and text, they possess an interest all their own. Such pieces include “À une jeune fille” (1869), “Au printemps” (1868), “Depart” (1869), “Tombez mes ailes” (1866), and “Primavera” (1867), just to mention a few. Songs from this period demonstrate Gounod’s suave melodic facility, which combines folk-like elements (“Marguerite”), when appropriate, with more dramatic and operatic ones (“Le Juif-errant”) to create appealing and often unexpected turns of phrase. These works deserve a fresh hearing and would be a welcome addition to the canon when handled by attentive and sensitive performers. Also during this second period, Gounod was a favorite of the Parisian salons and his music figured prominently in performances during this time.39 Appendix 8 below accounts for almost 50 performances of Gounod’s vocal music—most especially songs—during this period. Songs written during this time of professional activity, especially, substantiate Gounod’s eminent place a composer of mélodies, and confirm his important influence over song composers such as Saint-Saëns, Fauré, and Chabrier. The operas composed during this period are two of Gounod’s most unique: Mireille establishes the so-called “verismo” style before the Italian contributions of Leoncavallo and Mascagni in the 1890s, and Roméo et Juliette is the composer’s only attempt at an opera on a subject from Shakespeare. For the composition of Mireille Gounod traveled to Provence and met the famous Provençal poet, Mistral, whose original lyric poem is in the Provençal language. This work—one of many efforts by Provençal poets to revive the local language—was an immediate success, and, despite the fact the libretto was translated into modern French, the work retains its local color. The location of the story (Arles), the importance of the arid plain (the Crau), the costumes of the Provençal people, the shepherd’s song, the introduction of lower and middle class characters, and the use of the “Magali” (a local tune) and the farandole (a local peasant dance), all attest to the desire of the poet and composer to be true to the unique, local colors inherent in the original. It is therefore arguable that Gounod’s opera Mireille (1864) predates the traditionally ascribed date for “verismo” operas and actually, in many significant ways, establishes key aspects of this style: it was “verismo” before Italian “verismo” was actually written! This nationalistic opera is an innovative addition to the genre of nineteenth-century opera, despite some of its problematic and weak moments.40

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

Since its premiere, Roméo et Juliette (1867) has been roundly praised, and in recent decades it has been frequently performed and recorded. Even during Gounod’s lifetime, critics such as Arthur Pougin believed that the work possessed a “chivalric accent, vigor of style, and a uniformity of temper and solidity,” and that the love songs were “full of brilliance and sobriety.”41 In this opera, Gounod was able to precisely capture the distinctive Shakespearian soliloquy in music, and his duets (such as the balcony scene), while not wholly Shakespeare, do indeed become dialogue in music. Camille Bellaigue hints at this when he says that in Roméo et Juliette, Gounod is neither “slave to precedent, nor to any other system.”42 He has achieved in music the ability to remain true in spirit to the text of Shakespeare while retaining (thanks to Barbier and Carré) a great deal of the playwright’s original intent. The composer deftly captures Shakespeare’s balcony scene in Act II of the opera with a combination of Romeo’s aria, “Ah, lève-toi soleil” and the duet “O nuit divine!” Gounod’s declamatory vocal style—an admixture of recitative and aria—compliments the original poetic declamation of Shakespeare. Formally, Gounod eschews great complexity, preferring rather to use more straightforward forms, such as ABA for many of the arias. Throughout the opera, the orchestra plays an important role—it’s not merely accompaniment—which has led some to accuse the composer of Wagnerian tendencies. However, one of the things that Gounod accomplishes in this opera is a touching and vivacious character study of the main dramatis personae. Both Romeo and Juliet are three-dimensional characters; while not perfect, they are indeed believable and the audience is sympathetic with them. Gounod’s music enables the listener to have a better understanding of them and with his music he draws more distinct and real individuals. By the standards of today, and even of the composer’s lifetime, Roméo et Juliette is truly a gem of this period in Gounod’s productivity. The final stage of Gounod’s career begins with his self-imposed exile in London, during the Franco–Prussian War in 1870, where he remained until 1874, well after the end of the conflict. This period ends in 1893 with his death at his chateau in St. Cloud. During this time, many authors on the composer lament his waning compositional prowess and what some consider his lack of musical taste. It is true that while in England Gounod was given over to writing many English parlor songs, but according to Mitra Margaret Sadeghpour, the composer “was able to create a body of original songs featuring a wide variety of styles and poetry that met the needs of the rising Victorian middle class.”43 This repertory followed the trend of the popular English ballad firmly established; however, Gounod’s songs of this period were also for financial gain. Being a composer in exile was expensive, and he needed a means of earning a living to support himself and his family. His English period was busied more with his personal dilemma of affaire Weldon, and his networking with the British musical machine, both of which took a great deal of energy away from composition. One fine work, which comes from the early part of this period, is the mini-oratorio, Gallia (1871). In this lament for France at the onslaught of the Franco–Prussian War, Gounod turns to the Lamentation of Jeremiah for his text

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as he weeps for his country: “Quomodo sedet sola civitas plena populo … Plorans ploravit in nocte.” He admonishes all of Europe: “O vos omnes qui transitis per viam si est dolor sicut dolor meus?” What makes Gallia so moving is not only its historical context, but also the straightforward musical style of the work. Predominantly homorhythmic throughout, the chorus is declamatory, much like Anglican chant, and Gounod builds masses of sound by subdividing the choir at strategic moments. The second movement—treble solo with choir—is again quite dramatic, but in a restrained and somber fashion. It is not operatic as one might expect, but rather like Mendelssohn’s Psalm, “O for the wings of a dove,” it could be sung just as effectively by either a female or boy soprano. The final choral section is a tour de force of intensity and drama. The text reproaches Jerusalem (and perhaps Paris herself): “convertete ad Dominum Deum tuum.” The constant triplet accompaniment in the orchestra with the rising melodic line serves first as a plea then a demand: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem convertere ad Dominum”—return to God. This brief and, in many ways, simple work is a powerful and poignant composition in which Gounod himself returns to a more uncomplicated musical style reminiscent of his Sept paroles de Christ sur la croix of 1855. He had not altogether abandoned this style and these techniques, as upon occasion he would use similar declamatory choral passages and clear-cut dramatic arias. Upon his return to France in 1874, Gounod continued to compose opera and, while none of the works from this period has remained in the repertory, there is some fine music contained in these last operas. During this time he also occupied himself with the composition of Masses, smaller religious pieces (motets and devotional songs), some chamber music and piano pieces; however, the most successful works from this time seemed to be the oratorios which were commissions from England. It was also during the final years of his life—perhaps desiring to leave something more philosophical for posterity—that Gounod wrote essays, reviews, and his autobiography, Mémoires d’un artiste (1895/96). It seems as though in the final decades of life Gounod came full circle as a composer, for during this time he composed (or recomposed) 14 of his approximately 17 Masses.44 The last Mass setting from an earlier period is the Messe solennelle de Ste. Cécile of 1855. After this, Gounod did not compose another Mass until 1871—almost 20 years later, and in the last 20 years of his life he composed approximately 14. These settings are rather uneven in inspiration; however, there is some fine music, which shows that Gounod had not lost his ability to move the listener with his dramatic and simultaneously uncomplicated musical style. Patrick Laurette categorizes Masses from this period in the composer’s life as: bourgeois, dramatic, historical, and terminal.45 For example, the Messe Sacré-Coeur de Jésus (1876) is categorized by him as “dramatic” due to its grandiose character and Gounod’s attention to the dramatic elements inherent in the sacred text. While not as well known as the St. Cecilia Mass, this work possesses some fine music, juxtaposing simple chant-like melodies in the “Kyrie” and “Agnus Dei” with more operatic expressions in “Gloria,” “Credo,” and “Sanctus.” However, despite the more dramatic outbursts, Gounod still

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

demonstrates that he can compose well-crafted (albeit brief) fugal sections, such as the “Laudamus te” (“Gloria”) and the “Et unam sanctam Catholicam et apostolicam ecclesiam” (“Credo”). His counterpoint has lost none of its power and grandeur. The bourgeois Masses of this period are those works Gounod composed for singers of more limited abilities, such as the Mass no. 7, subtitled “aux chapelles.” These works tend to have limited vocal range, simple rhythms, little or no fugal sections, and uncomplicated accompaniments. At best they are chorale-like, and at worst they are dull and uninspired. The so-called historical Masses (dating from 1887 to 1890) are those having an historical connection, such as the Messe Jean d’Arc, the Messe de Clovis, and the Messe St. Jean. These works, according to Laurette, demonstrate Gounod’s penchant for plainchant and are influenced in a “superficial way” by the music of Palestrina.46 However, this notwithstanding, there are some unique and effective musicodramatic elements in these Mass settings. The Messe Jean d’Arc contains a prelude-fanfare including brass (eight trumpets and three trombones) and organ with the choir, which summons up the historical Joan of Arc in the Cathedral at Rheims.47 Gounod favors, as he does regularly, the use of modal mixture. He moves from F major to D ♭, the ♭VI of F major. The Messe Clovis also contains a dramatic introductory fanfare for brass, organ, and choir, “in which the voice of St. Remi is heard baptizing Clovis.”48 All in all, these last Mass settings, including the “terminal” Requiem, contain restrained melodies in which the intervals of seconds, thirds, and fourths prevail. Harmonically, Gounod favors tertian modulations, and limits fugal passages (perhaps due to the performance space), which, as Laurette correctly notes, has made others point to a connection with the musical style of Palestrina, although rather superficial.49 While some have suggested Palestrina as a model for Gounod’s music during this time—both Masses and oratorios—this is only a partial explanation. The lack of imitative and fugal writing in many of these works eliminates one of the major characteristics of Palestrina’s musical style and the Roman school of the Renaissance on the whole. Therefore, it is the overall sobriety and grandeur of Palestrina’s music, rather than specific compositional techniques, that some writers and musicians identify as evidence that Gounod turned to Palestrina in his last decades for inspiration. It is perhaps a more accurate statement that Gounod’s music from these years is characterized by an overarching moderation of musical effect and a tendency toward plainness which allows the text to speak for itself with music playing a supporting role: music becomes the servant of the text. This is certainly true in many respects in Gounod’s final two oratorios, Le rédemption (ca. 1882) and Mors et Vita (ca. 1885). Both works were composed for English audiences at the Birmingham Festival, and while the first work is dedicated to Her Majesty Queen Victoria, the second received a royal command performance at the Royal Albert Hall in 1886.50 Both oratorios were enthusiastically received by the British public and by audiences on the continent.51 These works, while possessing a seriousness of style and a straightforward musical language, do contain some rather dramatic moments, and, like the

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Messe solennelle from 30 years earlier, they contain an amalgamation of both sacred and secular musical attributes. The oratorio La rédemption contains some unique elements that are lacking from the usual repertory with which the English public was familiar. Among these are the various programmatic instrumental passages, including a musical depiction of the creation of the world in the opening pages of the work (with the low c minor harmonies reminiscent of Haydn’s creation); the extended March to Calvary, which Gounod himself indicated that he composed in Rome in 1867; and the scene of darkness at the death of Christ. In addition to these examples, Gounod, always the master of orchestration, adroitly uses the orchestra to set the scene as it were for various choruses, including the “Prophetic Choir” at the resurrection, and the “Descent of the Holy Spirit” at Pentecost. Other unique ingredients consist of the use of the Gregorian chant “Vexilla Regis proderunt” to accompany the lament of the choir at the crucifixion. This hymn from the Catholic liturgy is sung at Vespers on Palm Sunday and it is in praise of the cross: “O crux ave, spes unica.” During the crucifixion, the chant of the “Stabat Mater”—the sequence from the Feast of the Holy Cross—is heard in elongated rhythms in the orchestra while the soprano soloist (and then the choir) sings a countermelody above.52 Gounod very subtly introduces these chant melodies into the fabric of the music, much as a composer of the Middle Ages would employ chant subtly, in the tenor voice of a motet. Also unique in this oratorio is a recurring melody—a Leitmotif of sorts—which is first heard in the Prologue, representing the Redeemer, both God and man. It recurs throughout the Prologue as a unifying means, and then throughout the oratorio at various specific places. It is heard during the crucifixion scene on two instances, and then again during the apparition of Jesus to his disciples (in the second part of the work). This proves to be a very effective musical technique, which Gounod has used before in other works such as Roméo et Juliette, and for which he was ultimately criticized by some. Perhaps one of the greatest criticisms of La rédemption is the simplicity of melodic invention, which some have construed as boring or uninspired. Gounod’s melodies, both choral and especially in the recitative passages sung by Jesus and others, tend to be limited in range, rhythmically static, and they do not display vocal virtuosity. Because of this, critics such as the Wagnerian George Bernard Shaw found the work to be “tedious” and somewhat dull. However, it is well known that Shaw had a bias against religion in general which no doubt colored his perception. Despite this perhaps arguable accusation, Gounod’s music has some very dramatic albeit restrained characteristics; one has only to listen to the soprano solo and chorus “From thy love as a Father” where the soloist soars above the choir with high As and Cs, or the multi-sectional final chorus, the “Hymn of the Apostles” which erupts into a fugal finale. By and large, The Redemption demonstrates that Gounod had not lost his talent for dramatic and touching musical effect while retaining an overall simplicity and directness of style, which is heard even in his most early compositions. He retains a directness of purpose and musical conviction, which when used in the service of the text, offers sincere and convincing musical results.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

Gounod’s Musical Influence There are many influences upon Gounod’s music, most notably Mozart, whom Gounod idolized from his youth; there is also Beethoven, Felix Mendelssohn and, of course, Palestrina, which has been cited on many occasions. However, to what extent and in what ways have these composers influenced Gounod? Much has been made of the influence of Palestrina’s music on the young composer while he was in Rome at the Villa Medici, and while it was there where he came under the spell of the Renaissance master, the relationship is more subtle and esoteric than it may seem. Palestrina’s impact on Gounod is manifest in the harmonic and melodic simplicity of much of his sacred music—motets, sections of Masses, oratorios—and even in some of his dramatic music when appropriate. Gounod does not attempt to mimic Palestrina’s contrapuntal style or the strict rules of his melodic formulae, but rather it is the plainness and sober harmonic movement that affected Gounod and which he found useful. The concept of music serving the text, which concerned Palestrina and other Renaissance composers, was an aesthetic with which Gounod identified; he appreciated the value of his text for both religious and dramatic purposes and used music to accentuate and heighten its dramatic potential. Perhaps the most striking example of this is heard in the Sept Paroles du Christ sur la croix of 1855 and in the prologue to Roméo et Juliette, with its somber, homophonic choral declamation reminiscent of the style of fauxbourdon psalmody. Other examples exist elsewhere, namely in various choral passages of The Redemption. It was a style, or even technique, that Gounod used throughout his career for dramatic purposes, in both sacred and secular compositions. During his Prix de Rome journey, Gounod also met Felix Mendelssohn where he heard his Scottish Symphony performed by the Gewanthaus Orchestra, and then received an autographed copy of the score from Mendelssohn.53 Again, what Gounod may have received from Mendelssohn was a classical concision and artful formal design rather than specific stylistic elements. The cleanness of Mendelssohn’s music, its delicacy and classical precision are likewise characteristics of Gounod’s music, and notable attributes which remained with him his entire career. It was also the music of Mozart that influenced Gounod’s classical simplicity. In his essay on Mozart’s Don Giovanni, the composer points to one of the most important elements in Mozart’s music that greatly affected Gounod’s own musical style. He says: … it is necessary, before everything, to avoid seeking for effect [emphasis Gounod’s]. I mean here by the word effect, not the impression produced on the listener by the work itself, and impression of charm, grace, tenderness, terror—in a word, all the feelings which the musical text offers, or, at least, should offer, by itself in the form and portrayal—but that exaggeration of accent, light and shade …54 It is precisely this “exaggeration” which Gounod also avoids in his own music. He allows the music to speak for itself, simply and purely. Throughout the essay,

Introduction

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Gounod praises Mozart for his accentuation and expression of the text. This too, was something that Gounod continually strove for in his own songs and dramatic music. He was clearly influenced by Mozart’s noble simplicity and purity of style and in the preface to his study on Don Giovanni, Gounod confesses that this opera “exercised the influence of a revelation upon the whole of my life.”55 There are other composers, too, whose influence is heard in Gounod’s music. While this influence is subtler in some ways, there are other influences that are manifest more directly and obviously; this is the situation with Beethoven’s seventh symphony, as mentioned above. This second movement of this symphony—Allegretto—finds a parallel in the second movement of Gounod’s first symphony—Allegretto Moderato. Both movements are in minor: Gounod’s in D minor, and Beethoven’s in A minor; and both are variations on a theme. However, other more direct parallels exist. Both movements have a fugal episode in the minor mode (Beethoven’s begins at m. 183 and Gounod’s at m. 88). In addition, the main theme of each of these movements is quite simple and rhythmically uncomplicated, and both have the same articulation indicated in the scores—a combination of staccatos that are slurred together. To draw further similarities, each movement ends as simply and quietly as it began, after more rhythmically active sections of predominantly sixteenth notes. Clearly, Gounod was very familiar with Beethoven’s seventh symphony and used this movement as a model. Uniquely enough, this same theme from Beethoven’s symphony served as inspiration for Gounod’s “Agnus Dei” movement in his G major Mass (1846, 2/1862). Here, Gounod employs the same rhythmic motive (long–short– short–long–long) as in the Beethoven model, and more specifically, Gounod uses the same harmonic progression, albeit in the key of G major.56 This is perhaps one of the most obvious instances of “borrowing;” however, given the vast amount of music with which Gounod was familiar, there are more than likely other examples that can be found. Steven Huebner points to limited influences of Meyerbeer in the formal designs of some of Gounod’s operas, especially the strophic aria plan.57 To be sure, Gounod was the product of his age and looked to composers such as Meyerbeer, Halévy, and LeSueur for models and guidance. However, he was not an imitator and, as Huebner mentions, Gounod made numerous unique and innovative contributions throughout his operas. He notes especially the composer’s use of the major mediant harmonic relationship (III), the important role Gounod placed upon the orchestra in the voice-dominated genre of opera, and the creative manner in which Gounod used some of the more traditional techniques, such as the rosalia. Specifically, Huebner points to the final ensemble of Faust, “Anges purs, anges radieux” which thrillingly ascends in just such a sequence, soaring to its climax. He states: “It is easy to forget just how truly electrifying an operatic ending this must have seemed to French audiences in 1859.”58 Perhaps Gounod’s true genius lay in his creative use of musical material rather than his creation of new methods and styles. It has been readily recognized that Gounod was an extremely influential composer during his lifetime and indeed his influence continued to be felt after his death. A litany of composers can be named whose musical style did not escape

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

Gounod’s influence, including: Bizet, Saint-Saëns, Fauré, and Massenet, to name but a few. Henri Busser—friend and student of the composer—is also included in this list, and he mentions additional, lesser-known composers such as Guiraud and Paladilhe who were disciples of Gounod as well. Perhaps the most well-known composers were Bizet and Massenet. Bizet was a student and friend of Gounod and, in addition to being a copyist and transcriber, he also made various arrangements of some of the master’s music. Scholars, such as Lesley Wright, point to the influences of Gounod’s Symphony no. 1 in D major upon Bizet’s only essay in the genre, his Symphony in C. More specifically Wright points to Bizet’s “borrowing” of accompaniment patterns from Gounod’s opera Sapho, which he used in his opera Les pêcheurs de perles. The younger composer also employed the rosalia (a sequential device) from Gounod’s Faust in his own opera, Carmen.59 Since Bizet’s career was cut short by his untimely death, it is not possible to know how Gounod’s influence on his young pupil would have developed and affected future works. Jules Massenet was, during his lifetime, referred to as “la fille de Gounod.” This appellation may have been appended to Massenet because of his more traditional and at times delicate musical style, but perhaps more so because of Massenet’s desire to please his public. It was neither Massenet’s nor Gounod’s desire to blaze new paths with their respective musical styles or to create their own “schools” of composition. Their desire—while remaining true to their own composition style and musical voice—was to compose music that would speak to the audience; in one word, which has become vulgar today, they wished to compose music that was popular. Also, one of the main hallmarks of the musical style of both composers was the dramatic force of their music; namely, how could the music serve the dramatic situation of the text, be it secular or sacred. Both composers were concerned with how their music, through melody, harmony and orchestration, could convey the dramatic situation. Gounod is quoted as telling his student Henri Busser that melody alone was important, a dictum which Massenet also upheld.60 While the sobriquet of “la fille de Gounod” could have been interpreted in a negative manner, there is no indication from Massenet that he took it as such, and he and the older composer were on friendly terms throughout their lives. Gounod’s emphasis on melody is perhaps most keenly reflected in his operas and in his dozens of songs. Likewise, it is in the song repertory of Gabriel Fauré wherein Gounod’s influence is perhaps most powerfully felt. For both composers, the vocal line takes priority over the accompaniment, and while the melody is the main purveyor of the text, the piano assists most diligently in conveying the atmosphere and mood of the poetry. Compare “Au rossignol (1867), Gounod’s setting of Lamartine’s poem, with Fauré’s setting of Verlaine’s “Prison.” Both have simple, straightforward, chorale-like accompaniments that highlight the text, and in each song the composers pay very close attention to the vocal accentuation of the poem, in an almost recitative-like style. Interestingly, Fauré’s song was composed in 1894, almost one year after Gounod’s death. In another example, Fauré’s setting of Leconte de Lisle’s “Les roses d’Ispahan”

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(1884) in his clear-cut and uncontrived strophic form betrays the influence of Gounod, who greatly favored the strophic and modified strophic format for many of his songs. Also, some of Gounod’s accompaniment patterns can be heard echoing in Fauré’s songs. One has only to compare the triplet patterns in “Au printemps” of Gounod with Fauré’s “Notre amour.” Also, the overall ambience of Gounod’s “Absence” (1870), with its triple meter and minor mode, resonates in Fauré’s “Au cimetière” (1888), both of which employ a plain and almost barren, slow-moving quarter note accompaniment in a choral-like fashion throughout. There are countless other similar examples which betray Gounod’s influence upon Fauré, whose song output was prodigious. It is clear that Gounod was, as Ravel and others believed, a shaping force in the composition of French song in the nineteenth century pre-Fauré, and that his leadership presented an invaluable paradigm to an entire generation of composers of mélodie, most notably, Bizet, Lalo, Saint-Saëns, Fauré, Massenet, and Chabrier. Regarding Gounod’s role in and influence upon the French song repertory, Maurice Ravel stated: The true founder of the art song in France was Charles Gounod. The composer of “Venise,” Philémon et Baucis and the shepherd’s song in Sapho rediscovered the secret of a harmonic sensuousness which had been lost since the French harpsichord school of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. In fact, the musical renaissance which occurred in France about 1880 had no more valid precursor than Gounod. The true godfathers of the generation of 1895, Fauré and Chabrier, both continued Gounod’s work. Following them, Bizet, Lalo, Saint-Saëns, and Massenet, and later Claude Debussy—all more or less partook of Gounod’s beneficial influence.61 After Gounod’s death, the composer Camille Saint-Saëns remembered him in the following tribute: Illustrious master, you have shown us the path to follow, guiding and encouraging when the way was dark and uncertain; you have overthrown the difficulties and obstacles and we have had but to continue resolutely along the road opened out for us through storm and stress.62 It is true that in many ways Gounod paved the way for succeeding generations of French composers, perhaps even through the “storm and stress” of Wagnerianism. He was a friend and mentor to Saint-Saëns, Bizet, and Massenet among others who are less-known today. He was concerned with refining French music through promoting clarity, balance, and restraint, while looking to masters such as Bach, Mozart, and Palestrina as models during a time in Gallic culture when many native sons and daughters looked to Wagner for inspiration. Gounod helped to restore a sacred, noble quality to religious music, which by the middle of the nineteenth century had become synonymous with the secular style. It is the music of Charles Gounod that helped establish the style qualities

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

of lucidity, organization, purity, and elegance so inextricably linked with French music that, in many ways, has continued to be felt well into the twentieth century in the music of Saint-Saëns, Debussy, Les Six, Jean Langlais, and even Pierre Boulez. Current State of Research on Gounod Unlike many of his contemporaries, Gounod continues to be a relatively neglected composer. Both of his symphonies—worthy successors of Mozart and Beethoven, and the admirable contemporary works of Saint-Saëns and Schumann—unfortunately have no pride of place in the established repertory.63 His songs, interpreted and praised by composer Reynaldo Hahn and the famous French baritone Pierre Bernac, also seem to have lost their audience. Perhaps modern singers do not find them operatic enough or maybe they are challenged by the subtlety and nuance that only the most sensitive and skilled singer can convey. Gounod’s piano music, most of which was designed for the drawing room rather than the concert hall, has also fallen into obscurity, despite its charm. It is, however, in the operatic repertory where Gounod’s fame rests, even though, many of these works were not completely successful and some disappeared almost as quickly as they were created. The two works which have become part of the canon—Faust and Roméo et Juliette—attest to Gounod’s prowess as an opera composer, despite his overall uneven productivity. Other works that have prevented his name from being totally obscured by the passage of time include the St. Cecilia Mass and a handful of solo songs written either during or after his time in England. However, as current scholarship and investigation has shown, there are many other works in virtually all genres which demonstrate Gounod’s genius and proficiency as a composer and which also indicate that much more research needs to be accomplished. During Gounod’s lifetime, there were several essays and even some largescale biographical studies written on the composer that attest not only to his fame and importance, but they also demonstrate a wide variety of opinions on the composer and his music. Authors such as Arthur Pougin (#78) and Joseph Bennett (#66) offer favorable views and critiques of Gounod and his music, praising his nobility of style, his tenderness and freshness, while Blaze de Bury (#67) and Leon Éscudier (#72) are much less generous with their criticisms, finding Gounod’s music pedantic, pompous, and even uninspiring. Some of the most controversial writings on Gounod during his lifetime were those by Georgina Weldon (#80–82). Her accounts of the composer’s career in England during the Franco–Prussian War are valuable, but are not always reliable or without question. Her writing betrays her own bias and much of it is rooted in the wounds of a woman scorned. Secondary sources pertaining to the composer appeared in the late nineteenth century, immediately after his death, and the early twentieth century, but with little exception additional research did not reappear until the 1940s. From this time until the present day, there have appeared a small number of general

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biographical and musical studies on Gounod, with a more concerted effort to reappraise specific compositions in the last thirty years. Specialized studies on the composer’s music, namely, works by Lesley Wright (#125), Joseph-Marc Bailbé (#130, 131), Steven Huebner (#158), Samuel Parnes (#195), and Kenneth Langevin (#164), have appeared in the past twenty years and many of these are in the form of dissertations and theses. As expected, the majority of these specialized studies concentrate upon the operatic repertory with heavy emphasis upon Faust, although there is some limited research on the Masses, and two fine dissertations exploring Gounod’s song repertory. However, there is still room for more complete research even in these areas. For instance, there is no comprehensive investigation of the St. Cecilia Mass that takes into account the readily available manuscript sources. Despite all of the work that has been accomplished, there remain some lamentable lacunae. First, the most recent full-length English biography continues to be James Harding’s monograph from 1973 (#101). This monograph, while an interesting read and directed more toward the musical amateur, is unfortunately lacking in proper citation of sources and contains no in-depth analyses of even the major compositions in Gounod’s oeuvre. More recently, a French biography by André Segond (#120) was published in 2003; however, much like Harding’s offering, there is little in this study which can be considered scholarly or analytical in nature, and because of this, both sources are rather disappointing to the serious scholar of Gounod. However, Steven Huebner (#158) has contributed first-rate research pertaining to Gounod’s operas and his monograph is both detailed and thorough in its content and design. It is a welcome addition to the literature on Gounod and his music. Huebner also includes much important information on the manuscript sources of the operas. His contribution is both fascinating and scholarly and offers much new and insightful information to serious students of the composer. Manuscript studies remain another lacuna in Gounod scholarship at the present time. A large cache of manuscripts is housed at the Northwestern Music Library, which is just beginning to be investigated by the present author. However, there are many other manuscripts of Gounod’s music that also remain unexplored. The appendices in the present study offer some idea of the amount of manuscripts that are easily available to scholars throughout the United States and the European Union. Consultation of these and any other manuscripts will no doubt give a clearer picture of Gounod’s development as a composer, and will also offer insights into his compositional procedure and practice. For example, the sketchbooks housed at Northwestern University demonstrate Gounod’s attempt at yet another symphony, not to mention fragments of additional songs and smaller sacred works, some of which are in various states of completion. In this same collection there are also several smaller completed works that are not mentioned in any of the composer’s established list of works.64 The year 1993—the centennial of the composer’s death—brought a very limited renewal of interest in his music which was manifest in the appearance of two recording projects of the songs: one is on the Hyperion label with Dame Felicity

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

Lott, Anne Murray, and others accompanied by Graham Johnson, and another on the Ligia Digital label featuring an all-French cast including Isabella Vernet and Brigitte Desnoues accompanied by Laurent Martin.65 However there was no concerted effort on the part of the scholarly community to mark the anniversary, though the Musée municipal in St. Cloud mounted an “hommage à Gounod” (see item #112). Author Manfred Kelkel remarked that the anniversary of Gounod’s death in 1993 passed without any of the major institutions in France taking notice.66 To date there has been no study of the composer’s symphonic or chamber music, and while not a large amount of music, this would be a welcomed investigation and would offer a broader and more complete representation of Gounod’s music and career. Also, given the rather large amount of correspondence by the composer, there is no critical collection of letters that would attempt to organize and edit what would prove, no doubt, to be an intriguing and important volume. A study this significant would also be invaluable in reevaluating Gounod’s life and works and offer greater depth to future studies. There yet remains to be written a complete and definitive analytical biography of the composer. With all of the available source material, some of which is explored in this present study, the availability of manuscript sources, letters, and press reviews, the task, while perhaps daunting, remains unfulfilled. Likewise there is no critical edition of Gounod’s music, despite the many manuscript sources that exist: the operas would greatly benefit from this. There is also no thematic catalogue of Gounod’s compositions, and again, given the reasonably accessible editions, publications and manuscripts, this seems almost outrageous. In the mean time, there is still much work—analysis and research—to be done on the Masses, songs, instrumental music, and operas of Gounod. Throughout his life Gounod struggled with his Janus-like personality—at once deeply religious and drawn to the sacred, but simultaneously attracted to secular musical expression and worldly acclaim. No place is this more clearly demonstrated than in his operas, many of which are unmistakably secular but contain at times distinct traces of his sober, sacred style. The reverse is apparent to a lesser extent in his Messe solennelle de Ste. Cécile and in his oratorios. His gift of melody, which was to influence succeeding generations of French composers, became a characteristic of his musical style. While he was not an innovator, his creativity often resulted in novel and original musical expression, and he was able to recognize the creative genius in others whose musical styles were quite different from his own, including Wagner and Debussy. In many ways, Gounod was a craftsman composer like Palestrina, Bach, and Mozart and this dedication to craft and technique was often misunderstood by some and interpreted as lack of invention or stodginess. Upon closer inspection and using a more thoughtful and critical approach, it is clear that the music of Gounod has more to offer the performer, scholar, and audience of the twenty-first century. There is still much work yet to be completed and only through a reappraisal of his music will a renewed voice be given to Gounod’s songs and sacred music, as well as his chamber and symphonic compositions.

Part 1

Gounod Bibliographic Citations “The reason is that there are two kinds of simplicity. There is that of the simple-minded, of which it is unnecessary to speak, and there is another simplicity, which attains to the highest consummation of art. But this latter it is not given to everyone to reach.” (Camille Saint-Saëns on Gounod’s Faust)

1

General Studies

1. Barbier, Patrick. Opera in Paris, 1800–1850: A Lively History. Trans. By Robert Luoma. Portland, OR: Amadeus Press, 1995. ISBN 0931340837. ML1704.B236V513. Addressing the era before Gounod’s ascendancy, this book examines many fascinating aspects of the phenomenon of opera at an historical time that witnessed the Napoleonic wars and Empire (1804–1814), the Restoration (1814–1830), the July Monarchy (1830–1848), and the revolutions connecting them. Despite all this turmoil and political change, the Parisian public valued the entertainment of opera, not only on stage, but all the ritual and gossip surrounding it. The monograph includes chapters on managing the opera, opera audiences, life at the Théâtre-Italien, and journalism and opera. The author takes the reader through the maze of opera in Paris and all its unique elements, etiquette, and intrigue. His style is engaging and inviting. Barbier states: Let us accompany the theater-goer who, whether once or several times a week, frequented the major theaters of Paris, attended the great spectacles, and applauded burlesque as well as works of propaganda. With our Parisian companion we will follow the reactions of governments to musical theater, rub shoulders backstage with the composers and the singers who stirred the emotions, and peer over a shoulder to scan the frequent reviews in the music press … Thus today’s music lover may join the thousands of professionals and spectators of that era who placed opera at the center of their lives. This is an insightful and important book, which gives the reader an opportunity to really experience the Zeitgeist of the French capital. Especially interesting are the chapters “Major and Minor Periods of the Opéra,” “Opera Audiences,” “Artistic Life,” and “The Press and Opera.” 2. Becker, George J., ed. and trans. Paris Under Siege: From the Goncourt Journal. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1969. 334 p. 6433. ISBN 801405327.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide The Goncourt brothers began writing their journal in 1851 (the year President Bonaparte proclaimed himself Napoleon III) and it continued through Jules’s death (on the eve of the Franco–Prussian War), finally concluding with Edmond’s death in 1895. However, the journal was not published until 1955, because of two world wars and the fear of offending families mentioned in its pages. Therefore, when this collection of the years 1870 and 1871 were published in English translation, the journals were still a novelty. These accounts of Paris as the center of the artistic European world still resonate today, more than 100 years after the final entry. What Edmond Goncourt captures so beautifully and with a keen, cold reporter’s eye is “a sense of movement, the volatility of emerging modern life.” “This record ranges widely over events and experiences of the time … Paris as a changing physical and social environment, Paris as the lively forum of the arts.” This is so true, for according to Edmond himself: our effort … was to attempt to make our contemporaries live again for posterity in animated likeness, to make them live again through the lively stenography of conversation, the physical surprise of gesture, those nothings of passion by which a personality is revealed … by the notation of a bit of that fever which is characteristic of the heady atmosphere of Paris. With the devastation of his brother’s death, Edmond threw himself into documenting the cruelty and barbarism of the Franco–Prussian war, the occupation of German forces, and the re-bombardment of his home by his countrymen during the ensuing Commune. In these accounts “personalities were on the whole reduced in importance. The events were dominant, and they were largely public and anonymous.” This was a time of bitterness—physical and psychological—and the journal entries for these two years betray that. Goncourt turns from outrage to hatred toward the Germans, and ultimately to desire for revenge. The horrors of deprivation, disease, and death are chillingly recounted in the pages of this collection in a very matter-of-fact, yet haunting fashion: “Today there begins distribution of bread: bread in which you find pieces of straw.” The ultimate surrender reminded Goncourt of the Burghers of Calais with ropes around their necks and this volume is a stirring recount of a horrific time in French history.

3. Berlioz, Hector. “Hector Berlioz: Opera Opinions.” The Opera Quarterly 19.3 (2003): 393–400. This is an interesting collection of brief pronouncements on opera, including Bellini’s I Capuleti e I Montecchi, Bizet’s Les pêcheurs de perles, Flowtow’s Martha, Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail, and Rossini’s Le Comte Ory. Also, there are general statements on opera

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composers including Mozart, Wagner, and Donizetti. Some comments criticize the libretto (“wretched” in the case of I Capuleti …), while others are critical of the music itself. Berlioz believes that there are “a considerable number of beautifully expressive set pieces, full of fire and rich colors” in Bizet’s Pearl Fishers; and he finds “many pretty vocal pieces” in Mozart’s Die Entführung; he believes, however, that the overture should have been burned. Berlioz blames Rossini for introducing “noisy” orchestration into France, and he laments that others do not recognize Auber, Halevy, and Adam’s “odious exaggeration of Rossini’s system.” Rather (he says), people blame Berlioz himself! The lengthiest entry in this compilation is on Gounod’s Faust, which is, overall, positive. Taken from his Cauchemars et passions, Berlioz praises Marguerite’s “Je ne suis demoiselle,” which he finds natural and graceful, and Faust’s aria “Salut demure chaste et pure,” which touched him greatly. He continues to say that this tenor aria “is of a lovely sentiment, very true and very profound;” however, he feels that the violin obligato spoils rather than enhances it. The quartet of Mephisto, Martha, Marguerite and Faust he declares to be “very fresh, very true, and sincere.” The church scene, with the use of organ and “religious chants” is “superiorly treated.” Despite the positive comments and observations, Berlioz does find the duet after the entrance of Mephisto in the first act to be “not very refined” and that it is “too heavily orchestrated.” Likewise, he believes the entr’acte of Act V is too long for so late in the opera. At the conclusion of each entry, the editor has indicated the original source for the quote only by title. These quotes have been taken from the Memoirs; Cauchemars et passions; Mozart, Weber and Wagner; and letters from 1864. The editor does not identify these last three sources specifically, but rather points the reader to Joe Law’s “Selected Bibliography of English-Language Works on Berlioz” in this same issue of The Opera Quarterly. 4. Bernard, Elisabeth. “Pasdeloup et les Concert Populaires.” Revue de musicology 57 (1971): 150–178. http://www.jstor.org/stable/928097 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. A detailed and comprehensive study of Pasdeloup’s activity and musical aesthetic, this article offers a history of the evolution of the Concerts Populaires (which originally relied upon students from the Conservatory), its general operations as a performing organization (ticket prices, performing venues), reviews of performances, and a chronology of the development of the group and its repertory. From the author’s research, it is evident that Pasdeloup was one of the premiere musical figures of the mid to late nineteenth century in Paris, who was not only a supporter of various French composers (Gounod, Saint-Saëns, Bizet, Massenet, Duparc, d’Indy, and others), but he was likewise responsible for keeping the Viennese classical school (Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven, and Mendelssohn) before the French public. In addition, it was Pasdeloup who had, according

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide to the author, “indisputably … imposed Wagner on Paris since 1861.” The author accounts for the organization’s ultimate demise in 1884 due in part to the appearance of various other performing groups (Société Nationale de Musique, Le Concert Nationale and Colonne’s concerts) and perhaps above all, because of unfavorable reviews of Pasdeloup’s performances. These new organizations were musically stronger, better disciplined, and led by better conductors, according to Bernard. This pronouncement cannot detract from the importance of Pasdeloup as an entrepreneur, musician, and supporter of Wagner during the post-Franco–Prussian War era in France. The author draws heavily upon contemporary articles and reviews from Le Ménestrel, La France Musicale, Revue et gazette musicale, L’Art Musicale, archival material in the Louvre and the Archives Nationales. This article gives a vivid account of one of the most important performing organizations in Paris that was instrumental in performing music by Charles Gounod and his circle.

5. Bernac, Pierre. The Interpretation of French Song. New York: W.W. Norton, 1978. 326 p. MT 892.B4. ISBN 0393008789. As admitted by the author, this monograph was not written by a musicologist, but rather by a performing musician out of a wealth of experience; Pierre Bernac was one of the great interpreters of French song. This is a very fine volume, which offers practical information for the performer regarding the pronunciation of the French language and the interpretation of various specific songs, in addition to a brief history of the mélodie and its forerunner the romance in contradistinction to the Lied. Bernac indicates that this book is a “guide for English-speaking singers, who wish to study a repertoire which may not be very familiar to them, and which … presents problems which are not easy for them to solve.” After the initial chapters regarding interpretation and linguistics, Bernac divides the chapters by composer and within each of these he selects a few specific songs to address. His comments deal primarily with details of tempo, dynamics, and just how to convey the meaning of the song’s text with conviction and artistry. The composers whose songs Bernac addresses are: Berlioz, Gounod, Franck, Lalo, Saint-Saëns, Delibes, Bizet, Massenet, Duparc, Chabrier, Chausson, Fauré, Debussy, Satie, Caplet, Roussel, Ravel, and Poulenc. The author gives the most attention to the music of Chausson, Fauré, Debussy, Ravel, and Poulenc. Of Gounod, Bernac states that the composer “had an exquisite melodic invention,” and that the “contour of his musical phrase is quite personal and soon reveals the name of its composer.” Bernac believes that Gounod’s songs are “very close to the romance in their strophic form, and even, at times in their spirit, but their musical quality ranks much higher.” The author likewise believes that Gounod was the “true originator of the French mélodie” while their accompaniments remain more closely associated with the earlier romance in their simplicity and strophic form. With regard to the interpretation of

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the composer’s songs, Bernac feels that they should be “sung with great regard for the melodic line, for the vocal curve,” and that the performer should “not be afraid of purely vocal effects and of a certain rubato.” The songs Bernac chooses to examine are: Sérénade (Hugo), Chanson de printemps (Tourneux), Au rossignol (Lamartine), Mignon (Gallet), Viens les gazons sont verts (Barbier), and L’Absent (Gounod). For each song the author indicates suggestions regarding tempo, dynamics, places for rubato, elements of the text and specific words to highlight in performance. Bernac reproduces the texts for each song he discusses with indications for liaisons, breaths, and other helpful elements for interpretations. This is an extremely helpful and valuable monograph for singers of all levels, and for accompanists and other musicians who desire insights into this unique and profound repertory. 6. Berry, Nicole. Pauline Viardot: l’égérie de George Sand et de Tourgueniev. Paris: Grandes Biographies Flammarion, 1990. 424 p. ML420.V36 B3. ISBN 208066204X. The most recent large-scale biographical study of the singer-actress, this volume, while a welcome addition to the scant scholarship on Viardot, is nevertheless rather superficial in its treatment of the subject. The lack of documentation either by footnotes or endnotes is disturbing and regrettable, as the author clearly quotes from other sources, both primary and secondary. The writing style is relaxed and comfortable, and from all appearances it does not pretend to be a scholarly, definitive investigation of the subject matter. It is an accessible and interesting biography apparently designed more for the casual reader. The bibliography is wide-ranging, encompassing much primary and secondary source material in addition to the Cahier Ivan Tourgueniev, Pauline Viardot, Maria Malibran, and various journals. Unfortunately, specific information for the latter type of source is lacking: the author only gives the title and place of publication. The author also indicates that she has received information from descendants of Pauline Viardot (Jean Viardot, Jacques-Paul Viardot, and Pierette Viardot), but again fails to specifically cite this throughout the text. One of the chapters of the monograph entitled “Sous le charme de Gounod” deals with the period of time when Gounod was composing Sapho and the unique, three-way relationship between Pauline, Tourgueniev, and Gounod. The author asserts that Viardot was more in love with Gounod’s music than with the man himself, and that during this period (while Gounod and his mother were living with Tourgueniev), the composer and writer became good friends, and not so much rivals. This chapter also offers a dramatic account of Chopin’s death. Other chapters in the book deal with Pauline’s musical heritage, her relationship with Alfred de Musset, her friendship with George Sand, Berlioz’s resurrection of Gluck’s Orpheus for the diva, and her relationship with Meyerbeer and his music.

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7. Bloom, Peter. “Academic Music: The Archives of the Académie des Beaux-Arts.” Nineteenth-Century Music 7, no. 2 (Autumn 1983): 129–135. After a brief introduction and history of the institution and its archive, the author then discusses the usefulness of the archives to the music scholar. For instance, in the twelve and a half years that Berlioz was a member of the Academy, he attended over 360 meetings; likewise various statistics of other members, including Halévy, Ambroise Thomas, and Gounod, may exist and provide some valuable insights. Bloom then examines the types of documents preserved in the archives. First, and perhaps most obviously, are the minutes of the various meetings preserved in series 2E, which date from 1803 to the present. The minutes of the contests for the Prix de Rome (and including some of the fugue subjects) are preserved in series 1H from 1817 to 1927. Financial records are contained in 2D and date from 1795 to 1898. Series 5E (from 1803 to the present) preserves various letters and documents and they are subdivided in the following manner: letters from authors requesting official examination and review by the academy; letters addressing the official business of the academy; letters to and from the director of the French Academy often contain “vital personal” information; information regarding elections which contain “numerous unpublished letters” from musicians such as Fétis, Reicha, Halévy, Cherubini, Reber, Saint-Saëns, Auber, Delibes, Paer, Spontini, Adam, David, Massenet, and Charles Gounod. The fifth subcategory includes items— such as a few pieces of music—that pertain to the competition for the Prix de Rome; and the final subcategory includes the “minutes des procès-verbaux” (the original drafts of the minutes of the academy.) Unfortunately for the music scholar, there exists no complete catalogue of these various categories of resources, according to Bloom. Interestingly enough for the current monograph, Gounod figures prominently in these archives, and the author offers one such example. There is a letter (from 1839) in which Gounod “seeks permission for copies of prize cantatas to be made by an outsider, so that the exhausted competitors could avoid this tiring and mechanical task. Permission was denied.” While it is not the goal of this article to give an analysis of the specific holdings in this archive, it is a very fine introduction to a valuable collection, which has not been used to its full potential by music scholars. 8. Carlson, Marvin. The French Stage in the Nineteenth Century. Metuchen, N.J.: The Scarecrow Press, 1972. 326 p. PN2634.C35. ISBN 0810805162. This is a very interesting and significant study in theater history that also includes pertinent and insightful information regarding the lyric stage in France during the nineteenth century. As Paris was undisputedly the cultural focal point of Europe during this time, many of the major movements

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in the arts originated there. These included classicism, romanticism, and realism. Paris was the melting pot of artistic diversity, supporting productions from “Corneille to the crudest farce, from the poetic dramas of the symbolists to spectacle plays featuring erupting volcanoes, from neoclassic operas of Spontini to Offenbach’s merry destruction of Olympus.” The author identifies the two main “types” of theaters: the major theaters, which performed the high quality literary offerings; and the minor theaters, which were directed toward the popular tastes and less cultured patrons, and throughout the volume explores the repertory and unique features of each. To the musician, one of the most helpful and informative aspects of this study is that the author also addresses various lyric theaters (the Opéra, the Opéra-comique, and the Théâtre Italien), and places them in the context of the overall theatrical world of the time. Some especially interesting points Carlson makes—which pertain to both the spoken and sung dramatic arts—include the fact that “realism in the theater developed more as a variety of romanticism than as a reaction to it,” and this realism is manifest in two main ways: first, through attention to detail in costume, setting, scenery, and the like, and secondly, through stories, such as Dumas’ La dame aux camilles and later with Emile Zola. The repertory of the opera is characterized during this time by its use of spectacle and ballet. The chapter devoted to this—“Romanticism at the Opéra: 1827– 1849”—explores the works of Auber, Hérold, Carafa, Rossini, and others in regard to the use of spectacle and ballet, often to such a degree that composers complained that their music was of secondary importance! Gounod’s music is briefly mentioned in later chapters dealing with “Social Drama and Operetta (1850–1870)” and “Realism and Symbolism (1870–1900).” Even though the author includes opera in his discussion, he does so in terms of drama, spectacle, and with an eye to their theatrical essence, not musical. The author demonstrates with this study that the great variety of theater production during this time—romantic opera, realistic slices of life, melodramas, vaudevilles, farces, and classical tragedies—continued to expand into the early twentieth century, establishing characteristics that form an eclectic stage experience for audience and actor/singer alike. This significant study traces the development of this rich tradition from the age of Napoleon I to the beginning of the twentieth century. 9. Charlton, D. G. editor. The French Romantics, 2 vols. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984. 423 p. 944.04DC33.5. ISBN 0521244137. This resource contains numerous essays that address the kaleidoscope of France during the nineteenth century. Essays cover the topics of religious and political thought, poetry, drama, criticism and theory, the visual arts, and music and opera, among other things. According to the editor (professor of French at the University of Warwick), this work, “aims to describe

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide and evaluate the collective achievements of the French Romantics and to reassess … their significance and persisting value.” With this in mind, Charlton makes two important points made in the study: first, the contributors try to “eschew definitions of that much defined abstraction” of Romanticism, and secondly, the study “seeks to examine the French Romantic movement in itself, to the extent to which that is possible, in isolation from European Romanticism.” To this end—and to cover the plethora of subjects and aspects of Romanticism—the editor has enlisted the expertise of various specialists, distinguished scholars in the arts, French, and history. The opening chapter sets the stage for the specific discussion of Romanticism, which makes up the remainder of the book. This is followed by two chapters, which (according to Charlton) explore the “fundamental intellectual commitment on the part of the French Romantics.” After this, the literary forms—poetry, prose, drama, and criticism—are examined, followed by the sister arts of music and the visual arts. Each chapter ends with a bibliography “albeit firmly selective and biased in part to studies in English.” Charlton encourages the reader to set aside this work and to “repair to the bookshelves, the concert halls and the art galleries” to experience the period and to truly come to terms with the legacy of the French Romantics. While this volume deals primarily with the period prior to Gounod’s ascendancy as a composer, it is nevertheless invaluable to the student of the period, and it demonstrates the totality of the culture and society that not only shaped Gounod as a man and composer, but influenced the entire nineteenth century.

10. Charlton, David, editor. The Cambridge Companion to Grand Opera. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. 496 p. ISBN 0521641187. This scholarly collection of essays, written by a variety of experts in the field, is divided into four parts: The “resourcing” of grand opera; Revaluation and the twenty-first century; Grand Opera in Paris; and Transformations of grand opera. Individual essays include investigations of opera libretti, the use of chorus in opera, dance in opera, Grand Opera among the Czechs, Italian opera during the period, Wagner and French Grand Opera, and Grand Opera in Britain and the Americas. The music of Gounod is examined in Steven Huebner’s essay entitled “After 1850 at the Paris Opéra: institution and repertory.” The editor identifies certain important themes discussed in the collection, including: terminology, genre, and definitions; French laws, contracts, and censorship; budgets and salaries; survey of plots; orchestration; staging and production; musical forms and the relationship of Grand Opera to society and politics. Each chapter includes tables and musical examples, but detailed plots are not included because the editor indicates (rightly so) that this information could be found in other appropriate resources. This collection of essays is extremely valuable, and will be very useful for graduate courses in opera specifically, and in music of the nineteenth century generally.

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11. Christiansen, Rupert. Tales of the New Babylon: Paris 1869–1875. London: Sinclair-Stevenson, 1994. 435 p. DC311.C477. ISBN 185619163X. A fascinating and engagingly written narrative which covers the period from part of the Second Empire through the post-Commune era in Paris, this monograph examines many subcultural aspects of the society of the time with accounts of some unique and less popular accounts of history. These include the murder of the Kinck family, descriptions of life in a brothel, the affair between Rimbault and Verlaine, and contemporary accounts of the Siege of Paris. The study is divided into three sections: the first deals with the decadent lifestyle of pre-Franco–Prussian War Paris, the second part explores the war, siege, and the Commune, while the final section deals with the aftermath of the war and feelings of revenge, and Paris’s attempt to get back to normal. The author employs important primary sources when relating the events and his writing style is engrossing and absorbing. This monograph offers a dramatic and vibrant exposé that would be of interest not only to students of the period but to the casual reader as well. There is a fine bibliography for each section of the book, an index of names and topics discussed throughout, and a very interesting reprint of Paris Partout—an 1869 travel guide of Paris designed for American and British visitors, which explains cultural and social aspects of French living. 12. Coeuroy, André. Translated by Theodore Baker. “Present Tendencies of Sacred Music in France.” The Musical Quarterly 13, no. 4 (Oct. 1927): 582–604. This interesting article, written only a few years after Fauré’s death, is divided into several parts: discussions of specific composers (Gounod and Franck), didactic currents (Choron, Niedermeyer, Charles Bordes), the Schola Cantorum, a discussion of the vehicles of sacred music (organists, choristers, and singing-schools), the forms of sacred music, and finally a brief discussion of Pius X’s Motu Proprio on sacred music. These latter categories mention numerous French composers associated with religious music, including Boëly, Benoist, Guilmant, Gigout, Tournemiere, Widor, and Vierne, in the course of the discussion. Primarily this article is a litany of famous and not-so-famous liturgical musicians, however, the author does make some interesting observations about the contributions of these men, and their place in the contemporary, sacred music scene. There is really no attempt to define the appropriate elements of sacred music, but the author presents that at the outset as the dilemma that has plagued composers throughout the nineteenth century and before. Regarding Gounod’s sacred music, Coeury states: “the religious art of Gounod is too often worldly. Divine love found, in him, no other mode of expression than profane love.” While the author points to Gounod’s larger sacred works as

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide perhaps being too “theatrical” he conversely states that some of the smaller works including a four-voiced “Ave Regina,” and a later setting of the Mass (the so-called “Messe de Jean d’Arc) are more appropriate. With regard to César Franck, the author also believes his sacred music suffers for a number of reasons including the composer’s ignorance of Renaissance polyphony, and his own “romantic” religiosity, which was “incapable of accommodating itself to the rigid discipline of the texts.” According to the author, Franck’s “finest religious music will never be known to us.” He believes that it was his improvisation from the organ loft during Mass that constituted his greatest contribution to sacred music. In general, the author feels that the smaller religious works of various composers make up their most successful and appropriate pieces for liturgical use. However, Coeuroy does not dismiss larger, more dramatic works out of hand as being inferior. Some of these, such as Debussy’s Le Martyre de St. Sébastien and La Damoiselle élue, he considers to possess a “grandeur of inspired genius” and even “Christian effects.” In closing, the author mentions Pius X’s Motu Proprio on sacred music, which was designed to rid churches of theatrical and secular styled religious music, reasserting the preeminence of Gregorian chant and Palestrinian polyphony. However, Coeuroy rightly reminds the reader that the pontiff willingly admits modern music into religious rites—as long as it is “seemly.” Again, definitions of what is “seemly” are absent. The author (and perhaps grudgingly the Pope) believes that sacred music can greatly profit from “keeping in touch” with secular music, and visa versa. Therefore, modern composers and musicians can contribute efficaciously to the evolution of sacred music without turning the church into an opera house.

13. Cohen, H. Robert. “The Nineteenth-Century French Press and the Music Historian: Archival Sources and Bibliographical Resources.” Nineteenth Century Music 7 (1983/84): 136–142. This article, from over 20 years ago, is a call to arms for scholars of nineteenth-century music on two very important levels: the first, to use and explore to the fullest extent possible the great (and then) untapped resources of the French periodic press; and second, by so doing, to create reference tools that organize and systematize these materials to enable future scholars to more easily use these primary sources. Cohen believes that the French period press has been neglected for three reasons: the sheer volume of material; the lack of detailed indexing of these sources; and, the ability to isolate from the large quantity of materials those journals worthy of examination. The great variety of these primary resources includes music reviews, feuilletons from daily newspapers, pertinent articles on music found in literary journals and theatrical journals, and music-related engravings and lithographs in the newly popular illustrated press of the day. Cohen uses as example two very important trends in nineteenthcentury French music to illustrate his point: the Orphéon movement and

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religious music. There are no less than ten journals dedicated to the former, and approximately twice that devoted to sacred music. However, at the time the article was written, these primary sources in addition to others, had not been fully examined. During the course of the article, Cohen also discusses various types of periodicals, such as the well-known dailies, various non-specialized journals, illustrated weekly papers, and music feuilletons. The author also points to some existent materials which are helpful to scholars interested in the nineteenth-century French periodic press, and in closing, reminds the reader that these journals offer detailed and almost daily accounts of the musical activities not only in Paris, but in various other French cities as well. It is good to note that since this article, many dissertations, monographs, resource tools, and other studies (including the present author’s own doctoral dissertation) have been written which further investigate and categorize material from the French periodic press. However, more remains to be accomplished. 14. Cohen, H. Robert. The Original Staging Manuals for Twelve Parisian Operatic Premieres. New York: Pendragon Press, 1990. ML1727.8.P207. ISBN 0918728703. This book contains the stage directions and detailed blocking for Gounod’s Faust as well as selected works by Auber, Donizetti, Halévy, Meyerbeer, Rossini, Thomas, and Verdi between 1828 and 1866. The staging manual for Faust not only offers the original blocking of scenes and individual arias and ensembles, but also gives other valuable stage directions to the principles and chorus by means of both simple diagrams and clear explanations. Directions are given with text references as cues. The final page offers all costume descriptions for each character depending upon the scene. 15. Cohen, H. Robert. “On the Reconstruction of the Visual Elements of French Grand Opéra.” In International Musicological Society. Report of the Twelfth Congress, Berkeley 1977, ed. Daniel Hertz and Bonnie Wade, p. 463–480. Kassel, 1981. In this fascinating article, which takes the idea of “authentic” performance practices to new levels, Cohen examines the virtually untapped area of the visual elements in the performance of French Grand Opera, namely, the sets and scenery, costumes, and stage direction. While it would seem that primary source material is virtually non-existent, there are many ways to recreate these aspects, by the careful exploration of various archives, such as the Bibliothèque de l’association de la Régie Théâtrale, and other primary source materials including contemporary periodicals such as the weekly L’Illustration, which contains many important iconographical sources. As a case study, Cohen takes a specific scene from Meyerbeer’s Prophète (Act IV, tableau 2, scene 4) and authentically recreates it—the set, costumes and even elements of blocking. He is able to do so not only

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide with the help of contemporary iconographical accounts, but also because of the extant documentation in the “Inventaire des Décorations du Prophète” (found in the Archives nationales, JX xiii) and another notebook in the archives entitled Le Prophète, which contains details pertaining to costumes. Also helpful in this endeavor are the livrets de mis en scène, and various annotations found in some of the published scores and libretti used for the production of the opera, some of which contain stage directions and blocking used in the production. This article also includes reproductions of artist’s renderings of the various set designs, costumes, and reproductions of individual pages from annotated scores, which demonstrate the wealth of material available to the scholar if he or she carefully explores. This remains an extremely important article that reveals the exciting possibilities for further study in this area. However, given the desire on the part of most professional opera companies to persist in their attempts at originality in production at all costs, and the desire to impose post-modern symbolism on operatic masterpieces, it is more than likely that any attempts at encouraging them to revive original productions of grand opera will fall upon deaf ears. Nonetheless, this is an exceptional study, which exposes a new and very fertile source of contemporary scholarship in musicology.

16. Cooper, Martin. French Music From the Death of Berlioz to the Death of Fauré. London: Oxford University Press, 1961. 239 p. ML270.4.C7. The author admits from the outset that, “this is not a book on aesthetics, a treatise on the sublime or a study of racial characteristics.” Himself an Englishman, Cooper also informs the reader early on that, “French music is not generally popular in England, for it lacks the quality which most endears any work to the public. It lacks … a strongly emotional content.” However, the author does identify “the qualities for which French art is famous—logic, clarity, moderation, and balance.” With all of this stated from the very beginning of this modest tome, Cooper approaches his work in chronological order from approximately 1870 to musical trends after 1920. He primarily discusses important (and lesser-known) composers in order from Gounod, Saint-Saëns, and Massenet, through Fauré, Debussy, and Les Six. He also discusses the contributions of Franck, Lalo, Chausson, Lekeu, Bruneau, Séverac, Roussel, and Satie, among others. In addition, Cooper examines genres, organizations, and musical trends such as the Schola Cantorum of Charles Bordes, liturgical and organ music, opera, the influence of Wagner and Russian music on the French style, Messager and operetta, Cocteau, and polytonality of Stravinsky. Gounod’s contribution and musical oeuvre are examined (in little detail) in the first chapter in conjunction with Saint-Saëns and Massenet—the socalled “fille de Gounod”—and then again in the second chapter where his later works, especially the oratorios, are discussed. Cooper’s remarks indicate his distaste for the composer’s music. He often describes

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Gounod’s music as blandly banal, especially the oratorios which were most often performed in England. The author also indicates that after a “nervous breakdown” in 1857 Gounod composed three of his “best works” almost implying that this “breakdown” enabled him to compose better. Despite Cooper’s generally negative view of Gounod’s music, he does rightly credit the composer with the important “part which he played in the re-establishment of a genuinely French musical ideal among French musicians.” This is born out by none other than Saint-Saëns in a moving tribute quoted by Cooper. Also throughout this volume the author traces Gounod’s influence (both directly and indirectly) on succeeding generations of French composers, including Saint-Saëns, Massenet, Fauré, Debussy, and members of Les Six. This monograph is a good introduction to French music of the period in question, and it is a credit to the author that he covers various composers who are lesser-known today, but who nevertheless made important contributions during that time. Cooper makes insightful observations, and presents his material in an accessible and direct fashion. One troubling aspect is that while he often quotes from contemporary sources, he does not offer any footnotes to verify his citations. An informative and welcomed table of events from 1870 to 1925 is given at the conclusion of the book which proceeds year-by-year, indicating who was born, who died, what music was composed and what important events occurred in other arts simultaneously. 17. Cooper, Martin. “The Nineteenth Century Musical Renaissance in France (1870–1895).” Proceedings of the Royal Musical Association, 74th Session (1947–1948): 11–23. This article represents a basic appreciation of the post-Franco–Prussian War period in French musical culture, and while the dates are somewhat arbitrary, they do begin with the founding of the Société Nationale de Musique (1871) and end with the premiere of Debussy’s Prelude à l’ après-midi d’un Faune of 1894. Cooper believed that these years—while still formative in the development of a national style—are worthy of study because of the fertile period of growth they encompass. This era does indeed represent an important period in the history of French musical art, and Cooper points to the triumvirate of Gounod, Saint-Saëns, and Franck as the leading figures. But, he indicates that “something was still needed to link these separate efforts.” This something was the Société Nationale. Interestingly, Gounod left for England in 1870 while Saint-Saëns remained behind to be a founding member of the organization. Cooper continues his article with a litany of the various important French composers and their non-Gallican influences, including Bach, Beethoven, and Liszt. He offers explanations of the contributions and musical styles of these composers, such the Wagnerian tendencies of some and the more traditional, “classic” (if you will) education of others. The author makes some interesting observations in addition to the more general and

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide well-established ones. He believes that Fauré’s music “prepared the way for Debussy,” which he unfortunately does not explain further. He also briefly explores the rediscovery of French folk song and Gregorian chant and their effects upon the art music of the period. Cooper identifies another trinity of composers who came to the fore by the end of the period in question—Debussy, d’Indy, and Fauré. These composers, each taking the torch passed to them by the preceding generation, led French music into the twentieth century with a unique style and voice which is undeniably and identifiably Gallican. In closing, Cooper believes that “after the foundation of the Société Nationale music in France was flourishing, a rich and varied native growth, as it had not flourished since the sixteenth century.”

18. Cortot, Alfred. La Musique française de piano. 3 vols. Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1948. Vol. 1, 252 p. Vol. 2, 252 p. Vol. 3, 292 p. ML724C7 vol. 1, 2, 3. According to the author, some of these essays were originally intended for publication in the Revue musicale. Alfred Cortot—himself a famous concert pianist—composed these studies to introduce others to the “diversity of profound, delicate, or picturesque works in which are inscribed the inventive genius of the musicians” of his epoch and “which reflect one of the most perfect moments in the history of our country.” The individual composers and pianists that Cortot examines in these three volumes include well-known personalities, such as Debussy, Franck, Fauré, Ravel, Chabrier, and Saint-Saëns. In addition, Cortot explores the piano music of composers who are not as celebrated today, including Roussel, Satie, Pierné, Samazeuilh, d’Indy, Florent Schmitt, de Séverac, Emmanuel, and Dukas. The individual essays are not analytical, nor does Cortot share interpretive suggestions, but rather, he mentions specific compositions of each composer and places them in context of the individual composer’s career. Interestingly enough, despite Gounod’s ample contribution to the genre of piano music (see Parnes #194 below), not only does Cortot not devote an individual essay to him, but neither does he recognize Gounod’s obvious influence upon other composers such as Saint-Saëns, Fauré, Debussy, and possibly others. Perhaps this omission betrays the lack of appreciation of a wider audience for the piano works of Gounod during this time, or the fact that his contributions to this genre were considered less significant than his religious and dramatic works. While these volumes are interesting and valuable in their overall appreciation of the genre during the periods investigated, this study is disappointing in its lack of analytical treatment of the subject and the absence of a discussion of stylistic influence. 19. Curtiss, Mina. Bizet and His World. New York, 1958. 477 p. ML410.B62 C87.

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An admirable discussion of Bizet, his music, career, period of activity, and his relationships with the many musical luminaries of his time, this book was the first large-scale English analysis of the composer. It has not since been superseded. According to Curtiss, with this monograph she “tried to set Bizet against the background of his age” through the use of much neglected primary source materials and through his relationships with is family and colleagues. During her research on Marcel Proust, the author came across a large collection of Bizet’s letters held by a relative of the composer’s widow’s second husband. From these letters—most of which had never been used previously—Curtiss draws a vivid and exciting picture of Bizet, Gounod, Meyerbeer, the Halévys, Ernest Reyer, Paul Lacombe, and other famous composers and musicians of the time. The author examines Bizet’s career as a composer, the paternal influence of Gounod, and Bizet’s in-laws, the Halévys, to great effect, giving a personal and clear image of the composer whose life ended tragically early. Curtiss does not offer any musical analyses of Bizet’s (or anyone else’s) music, but rather seeks to give full biographical account. Some important information related directly to Charles Gounod includes chapter 3, “Bizet and Gounod” and chapter 9, “Gounod’s La reine de Saba.” She points to specific influences of Gounod’s Symphony no. 1 on Bizet’s first symphony (which was not heard until the 1930s), and recounts the various piano arrangements Bizet made of Gounod’s music. Included in chapter 28, the author reproduces the funeral oration given by Gounod at Bizet’s grave— the original of which was in the possession of Daniel Halévy (as of 1958). The final two chapters examine the reception of Carmen after Bizet’s death and include a postscript that offers more information on the composer’s widow and her life. This is a very fine monograph which is de rigeur for any Bizet scholar, and invaluable to any student of nineteenthcentury French music in general. Appendix I is a collection of unpublished letters from a variety of dramatis personae in the composer’s life—the Delsartes, Aimée Bizet (his mother), Adolphe Bizet, Auber, Mme. Halévy, Daudet, Saint-Saëns, Emile Straus, Geneviève Bizet (his wife), and a lengthy poem (in French) by Louis Gallet. These letters have been translated into English. Appendix II is a chronological list of Bizet’s works—both published and unpublished—which not only demonstrates the scope of the composer’s oeuvre, but also attests to the many interesting and unique works i.e., four preludes, Overtures, piano fugues and other character pieces, and the various transcriptions of Gounod’s music. Appendix III is a chronological listing of posthumous presentations of Bizet’s music and focuses upon the orchestral and dramatic works. Appendix IV is a (not very detailed) listing of Bizet’s library, which demonstrates the scope of his interests from Handel, Haydn, Liszt, Lully, and Mozart, to Schumann, Alessandro Scarlatti, Weber, Rousseau, and Wagner. This list is not as specific as one might like. The fifth and final appendix is a selected reading list of monographs and articles on the life

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide and works of Bizet, including many items that would be of interest to various students of the period.

20. Davies, L. César Franck and his Circle. London, 1970. 380 p. ML 410.F82. [I]SBN 214650855. This interesting monograph offers a glimpse of the society and Zeitgeist of the time in which Franck, and consequently Gounod, lived and worked. The author identifies several questions that come to mind when examining the life and career of this famous organist and composer. These questions are: how was a Belgian “invited” to become the defender of French musical culture; why was it a church organist (and failed pianist) who awaken the talents of “an entire generation of French musicians”; to what did Franck owe his “special mystique”; and finally, what part did Franck’s German heritage play in his success and/or musical style. With all this stated, the author admits that he did not “embark on a fully comprehensive study … because this would have required virtually unlimited documentary resources” many of which were not readily available at the time. Also, Davies’s study does not analyze “the full corpus of music written by both Franck and his various associates.” However, the author believes that his role will “be that of chronicler of an artistic enterprise,” and also to examine the contributions of Franck’s students. To that end, it is little wonder that he devotes much time to d’Indy, as well as Chausson, Augusta Holmès, Henri Duparc, Alexis de Castillon, Ropartz, Charles Bordes, Tournemière, and Gabriel Pierné. Interestingly, the various members of Franck’s circle “differed enormously in age and background, and … they were often inclined to think of themselves as independent agents.” In addition to this, there were many composers identified by the author who “expressed sincere regard for Franck without finding it necessary … to register as pupils.” These included Chabrier, Lekeu, Dukas, and others among the so-called “French Wagnerians.” Saint-Saëns, according to Davies, “had links with the circle, but of a distinctly less amiable kind.” The author also indicates that his “concern in the later stages of the book will be to trace the achievements of the Schola [founded by Charles Bordes] in some detail,” for it was in this organization that “Franck’s teachings secured an official outlet.” Franck is identified by Davies as a transitional character in music history; he was neither a late Romantic composer, nor the herald of a modern movement, but rather he decided to remain safely in the organ loft of Saint-Clotilde, providing a sense of compositional security. However, the author believes that this “deprive[d] the composer of that sophisticated and fully social criticism which every artist requires if his work is to escape the taint of provincialism.” The study is divided into three main parts: the first part sets the stage for Franck’s early career, the importance of opera in contemporary music of the day and his early career as an organist. The second part examines the composer’s time during the Franco–Prussian War and Franck’s association with the

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Wagnerian style of composition, while the final part of the book deals with perhaps some of the more “eccentric” students and followers of Franck, and the work of the Schola Cantorum. Mention of Gounod, whom he describes as the “savior” of French opera, is found primarily in the opening section of the monograph. Davies believes Gounod to be a “musician whose gifts were so apportioned that he had no difficulty in satisfying both the purist and the public at one and the same time.” The author also examines the “friendship” of Franck and Gounod, and posits the latter’s influence on the former’s religious and social beliefs during the late 1840s. The bibliography included at the conclusion of the monograph is, admittedly, not comprehensive. This study does not examine any primary sources, such as letters, reviews, or contemporary newspapers and journals, or any music in detail. Documentation throughout the text is extremely and disturbingly sparse. While the book is accessible to a wide audience, it would have been nice if the author had been more detailed with his citations. 21. Ellis, Mildred Katherine. The French Piano Character Piece of the Nineteenth and early Twentieth Century. Ph.D. dissertation Indiana University, 1969. 1022 p. ML724.E47 F8. An impressive and admirable study, the aim of this dissertation, according to the author, is a practical one: to create an interest in the revival and performance of French piano music written between ca. 1830 and 1920. Throughout this work Ellis explores music of approximately 93 composers, some of which are familiar (Alkan, Franck, Gounod, Widor) while others remain obscure to twenty-first-century musicians (Démier, Ketten, Ladmirault, Séjan). This commendable study includes “analysis of piano character pieces written by representative French composers … noting the stylistic features of the music examined, as well as relating this genre of piano literature to its cultural milieu and to the Romantic movement in France.” She pays special attention to those composers whose piano music is usually neglected, and given the fact that the works of Debussy, Ravel and Chopin are widely known and documented, Ellis omits them from her discussion. The author makes some general observations after examining such an extensive body of work; namely, that some of the music examined was “designed for utilitarian purposes—for teaching and for performing in public recitals and concerts,” and that conversely, “a large number of pieces were not designed for public performance,” but rather for private consumption. Also, she notes that piano composition was obviously a satisfying artistic experience for many composers who were known not for their piano works, but rather as dramatic composers, and those who wrote primarily in larger forms (ballet, choral, chamber and orchestral music.) According to Ellis, these composers “turned to the piano medium, whether to create a miniature or a larger work, and thus found an outlet for their most intimate and personal musical ideas.” This two-volume work is divided into the following parts: 1) the historical setting, which offers a

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide discussion of the political and social life of France during the nineteenth century; 2) a discussion of representative French piano character pieces in which the author discusses her basis for selection of repertory; here she also examines specific composers and their works; 3) the piano character pieces and the Romantic movement in France, which explores expression in music with an emphasis on types of expression, aesthetic, philosophical, psychological, and theoretical considerations, and the character piece as a “vehicle of French Romantic musical expression”; 4) the distribution of the compositions and stylistic features of the music, wherein the author organizes the compositions into various categories (nocturne, dance, etude, overture, dances, poetically evocative, etc.) The second volume contains several appendices of interesting and valuable tables of information. Here the author includes biographical information on the composers mentioned in the study (especially helpful for the lesser-known ones); a chronological and musical activities of the composers discussed; a listing of representative character pieces by the composers in the dissertation, including publisher information (perhaps the most valuable table in this section); a table which shows “the chronological distribution of composers by political periods according to dates they reached musical maturity”; a listing of the four categories of compositions (autonomous, autonomous-heteronomous, heteronomous-autonomous, and heteronomous) discussed in the study, and specific examples of each by various composers; a “summary of categories of compositions” which further explains elements found in chapter 7 of the study; and finally the last appendix offers translations of the many quotes in German and French found throughout the body of the dissertation. This study, in which the piano music of Gounod figures prominently, is a valuable addition to the existing scholarship pertaining to French musical culture in general, to the piano repertory of the nineteenth century, and it is a model for this type of investigation because of its form, content, and organization.

22. Fitzlyon, April. The Price of Genius: A Life of Pauline Viardot. London: John Calder, 1964. 520 p. ML420.V36 F6. This was the first full-length study of Pauline Viardot (according to the author), and it is consequently a groundbreaking volume. In addition to being one of the great singers of her day, Viardot was also an extremely important musical and social personage, counting among her friends many influential and important musicians (Liszt, Chopin, Gounod, and Berlioz), as well as literary figures (George Sand and Turgenev). It is for her relationship with the Russian writer, Ivan Turgenev, that she is perhaps best remembered. The author explores the relationships between Viardot and her circle and the role she played in the musical life of nineteenth-century Europe as well as her part in bridging the artistic cultures of Russia and the west during this time. Her relationship with Gounod is fully explored, with detailed accounts of their working relationship during the composition of

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Sapho, and subsequent encounters. The unfortunate rift in their friendship at the time of Gounod’s marriage, and the convoluted chronicle of the events leading up to and following that time are clearly explained. Fitzlyon’s writing style is engaging and lucid, and she uses important primary and secondary sources well in establishing her facts and offering the reader a vivid account of this important and fascinating period in the history of the arts. The bibliography is comprehensive, drawing upon monographs, periodicals, letters, and interviews with direct relatives of Viardot. 23. Fulcher, Jane F. “The Orphéon Societies: ‘Music for the Workers’ in Second-Empire France.” International Review of the Aesthetics and Sociology of Music 10 (1979): 47–56. http://www.jstor.org/pss/836599 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. A fascinating explanation of the Orphéon movement in France, this article explores both social and political reasons for the establishment of these singing organizations for the working class. Music was believed to be a “panacea to ameliorate the condition of the French working class” and was consequently used by the monarchy and imperial governments to not only “pacify” but educate the masses. Conceived by Boquillon Wilhem in the 1830s, this singing society grew and flourished throughout the nineteenth century, and by the 1840s it was supported by musicians (conductors, singers, and composers) who were considered “social progressives.” At first, composers were admonished to keep the music simple both melodically and harmonically, and to set texts which were morally uplifting, including religious and classic poetry (i.e., by Racine and Corneille). “Altruism, belief in God, acceptance of suffering, [these] were all major themes that the government stressed, desiring to see them expressed in the French worker’s art.” Another reason the Orphéon was so successful was that, according to Fulcher, the average French worker desired to educate himself and improve his social condition; this singing society was one such way to do this. While the Orphéon was considered “democratic,” the author stresses that “according to the typical Bonapartist definition, democracy did not imply equality, but only a regime in which the popular element was the initial, power-giving force.” This organization was one of the most important musical institutions in France during this time, providing a degree of public education in the arts, opportunities for composers and performers, and an experiment in social action. According to Fulcher, the Orphéon was “a symbolic amalgamation of politics, philosophy and art, in an integral whole” and it was “based on a conception peculiar to mid-nineteenth-century France, the idea that music may mollify and so harmonize the disruptive dissensions of class.” 24. Genest, Emile. L’Opéra-comique connu et inconnu son histoire depuis l’origine jusqu’à nos jours. Paris: Fischbacher, 1925. 346 p. ML1727. 8.P262G46.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide This is an account of the genre of the French opéra-comique from Le jeu de Robin et Marion of Adam de la Halle and music of the troubadours and trouvères to music of the modern era. This volume is not only an historical survey of the genre, but it is also an investigation of the places in which the genre was performed, including the various fair grounds (La Foire aux Temple, La Foire Saint-Ovide, La Foire Saint-Clair, etc.), the famous Salle Favart, the Salle Feydeau, the Salle Ventadour, and the Salle des Nouveautés, among others. In addition to discussing the buildings or places themselves, the author also briefly and superficially mentions the type of music performed there. Also part of the discussion is the influence of the French vaudeville and Italian music and theater on the genre. Included in this volume are several appendices: one is a chronological listing of the fairs of Saint-Germain and Saint-Laurent, with names of the players and the principal pieces performed in public between 1697 and 1742; another is a chronological list of the administrating directors of the Opéra-Comique from 1713 to 1925. The author also lists the various primary sources and documents consulted for this monograph, including many memoirs of composers and public figures, and items housed in the Bibliothèque Nationale, such as schedules and calendars of several organizations. There are also pictures of many of the performance venues within the pages of this book.

25. Gerhard, Anselm. The Urbanization of Opera: Music Theater in Paris in the Nineteenth Century. Trans. by Mary Whittall. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998. 503 p. ML1727.8.P2 G3813. ISBN 0225288579. While examining the general period and specific elements of French opera in the nineteenth century, this monograph centers around Rossini and his contributions to the genre; the librettist Eugène Scribe, the “apolitical man of letters;” Giacomo Meyerbeer and his musical style and operatic contributions; the poet Victor Hugo as librettist; and Verdi, with emphasis upon his operas Les vêpres siciliennes and Un ballo in maschera. The author believes that “in consistently associating musico-dramatic form with tragic outcomes, opera for the first time laid claim to the aesthetic standing of tragedy.” Gerhard also feels that: only if we take a new look at grand opera, through eyes free of old prejudices, will we see the artistic achievement behind the commercial success of certain works, and start to understand the changes separating the musico-dramatic works composed in the middle decades of the nineteenth century from operas of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Some basic changes and innovations identified by Gerhard include the lack of concern with the “doings of princes” and a new focus of attention upon the inclusion of the common man. Composers also became more

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concerned not with the reaction of nobles and the court but rather with the box office! This volume is a fascinating socio-musical study, which draws upon a variety of primary sources from the Archives Nationales de France, the Bibliothèque nationale and the Bibliothèque de l’Opéra, as well as numerous groundbreaking secondary sources. The bibliography is extensive including a listing of the archival materials. There are also two indices: one of names and another of titles of operas cited throughout the volume. A helpful chronology from 1826 to 1859 is included at the beginning of the book that helps to briefly set the stage for the following investigation. The book is the author’s admitted attempt to present a convincing new view of grand opera, which he does with much success, for this is an exceptional exploration of the genre. 26. Goncourt, Edmond de, Jules de Goncourt and Cornélius Holff. Mystères des Théâtres 1852. Paris: Librairie Nouvelle, 1853. PN2634.G6. This volume is dedicated to the various theaters active in Paris during the season of 1851 and 1852. The book is divided into many sections, each dedicated to a specific theater and its repertory during the time in question. While most of the theaters discussed are dramatic organizations, some of the well-known Parisian opera companies are also addressed. In addition to the various reviews and critiques of the repertory that played at these houses, this volume also includes helpful tables of personnel (primarily actors); how many ballets, operas, tragedies, comedies, vaudevilles, and the like were performed during the season; a comparison of how many performances were reprises or new productions; and a listing of authors/librettists (not composers) represented in 1851 and how many collaborations they contributed to, including how many of their works were new productions and how many were reprises. This statistical information is perhaps some of the most important in the monograph, and no doubt helpful to researchers in this area. Some basic information regarding productions during 1851 includes that there were 42 ballets and pantomimes, 24 tragedies, 74 operas, 129 comedies, 95 dramas, and 534 vaudevilles performed during this season. Statistics like this betray what music and theatrical genres were popular during this time. Closer analysis of the information included in the various tables of this volume can shed further light upon authors; the popularity of certain theaters; the type of works performed at the various theaters; and the frequency of new works produced in contrast to reprises of other works. The monograph concludes with a helpful index of names (authors, composers, writers, performers), titles of works (plays, operas, ballets, etc.), and names of the various theaters mentioned throughout the book. This is a very insightful and useful primary source tool for anyone studying the spoken and lyrical theater of the period. 27. Goubault, Christian. La Critique Musicale dans la Presse Française de 1870–1914. Genève-Paris: Editions Slatkine, 1984. 535 p. ML270.4.G6. ISBN 2051005427.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide The result of research for his doctoral degree from the Sorbonne in 1982, this study provides an in-depth investigation into the daily periodic press criticism, cultural journals, and music periodicals. The author finds that in the journals dedicated to the arts and world affairs, the “opinions” were “better justified” than in the daily papers, where the terminology and analyses were often “too vague.” Divided into two large sections with many chapters, the monograph begins with a discussion of the various types of journals and their place in the life and culture of contemporary Parisians. The following chapter deals with some specific critics including some of the well-known writers—Debussy, Dukas and Laloy, but also including some of the lesser-known—Jean Marnold, Henri GauthierVillars, Romain Rolland and Jacques Rivière. Here Goubault examines their individual writing style and their contributions to the field of music criticism. In the third chapter, the author explores the responsibilities and difficulties of the profession of critic, including here a discussion of the criteria and methods of criticism. The second part of the study is devoted to the music before the critic and consists initially of an examination of Wagner’s music and the French Wagner craze during this time. Chapter 5 explores the “rediscovery” of music by Bach and Handel, the Schola Cantorum of Bordes, the musical camps of Gluck and Rameau, and the music of Mozart and Beethoven. The following chapter is entitled “Aspects du renouveau de la musique française” and investigates the critical reception of the music of Gounod, Saint-Saëns, Franck’s students, Bizet, Fauré, Dukas, Debussy and others in the post-Second Empire era. The final chapter deals with the so-called “foreign schools” and here the author includes a discussion of the music of Russia (The Russian Five, Mussorgsky, and Stravinsky; the German school (Schubert to Bruckner, Richard Strauss and Schoenberg); the Italian composers of the period (Rossini, Bellini, Verdi, Puccini and the “verismo” style, and the sacred music of Perosi), and other musical “schools” including Liszt and Chopin, Scandinavian music, English music, the Belge, Swiss, and finally the music of Spain. This study is an attempt by the author to help create a more comprehensive study of music criticism—the history of which has yet to be written—and hopefully to draw attention to the individual writers, many of whom were talented and worthy of reading. Regarding the music of Gounod addressed in this monograph, the author briefly traces the reviews of the composer’s music written after 1870. The works included in this discussion are: Mireille, Romeo et Juliette, Polyeucte, Le Tribut de Zamora and his two oratorios, La Rédemption and Mors et Vita. The comments which are reproduced in this section of the book regarding these works are concise and, while they do offer the reader a general appreciation (or lack thereof), they are neither profound nor are they very insightful. Realizing it is the author’s intention to offer a survey of the literature at hand and recognizing the scope of material with which he is dealing, one cannot expect individual composers to be treated in much depth. This

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study is a welcomed addition to the literature examining the French press of the nineteenth century. 28. Gras, Henk and Harry van Vliet. “Paradise Lost nor Regained: Social Composition of Theater Audiences in the Long Nineteenth Century.” Journal of Social History 38.2 (2004): 471–512. This very interesting study, in the words of the authors, “criticizes on empirical grounds the assumptions about the social composition of theater audiences from the late eighteenth century to the Great War as they were made in theater historiography from the late nineteenth century till well into the twentieth century.” The essay focuses upon the data found in the Rotterdam theater archives from the period of 1773 to 1914. In previous studies mentioned, “little evidence was found for the supposed decline of the stage due to melodrama, nor for a supposed recovery of the stage after 1870.” While previous studies analyzed anonymous spectators and ticket sales, this study offers an analysis of the subscription lists for season tickets and coupon booklets in the Rotterdam Grand Theater from 1773 to 1912. The authors divide this study into three main sections: the first “discusses the traditional theater-historical view of audience composition in the long nineteenth century,” and specifies its often implicit assumptions and hypotheses; the second “presents the results of the analyses of the subscription lists,” and the final section “concludes that the theater in many ways is a prison of longue durée”—a term used by other scholars who have investigated this same issue. In many ways this is a fascinating study, which needs to be applied to other countries and performing arts organizations. In this regard it is a paradigm of scholarship, and the results of its application in other areas can further our understanding of trends in opera, orchestral, and general concert attendance, and support a clearer historical—as well as financial—representation of the time in question. The essay contains numerous tables and charts, as well as appendices, which offer subscription lists, an assessment of data, and a series of ten tables (Appendix 3) which divulges information including “Wealth Class by Job Category” for opera, religious denominations, political and social functions, occupations, education, and political allegiance (after 1860), and other fascinating and valuable information. This is an excellent study worthy of simulation. 29. Grey, Thomas S. “Commentary: Opera in the Age of Revolution.” The Journal of Interdisciplinary History 36.3 (2005): 555–567. This is a highly interesting article, which addresses several points regarding opera during the period of roughly 1800 to 1840, with some mention of works from later decades of the nineteenth century. The author divides his discussion into five basic sections. The first examines the operatic prison scene with emphasis on Beethoven’s Fidelio. Grey believes that this type of scene “mediate[s] between sociopolitical fact and aesthetic

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide figure—between the value of the scene as immediate political statement … and a broader psychological, philosophical gesture of confinement followed by liberation.” He points to this as opera’s ability to depict and convey “spiritual liberation.” In the second section, Napoleon and the French Connection, the author briefly addresses “French propaganda aimed at discrediting an allegedly decadent Italian republic” in contrast to the more “enlightened” French model. In the third section, National, Cosmopolitan, or “Universal,” the author points out the bifurcation between “national and cosmopolitan” as identified by Michael Tusa, which Grey applies to opera in terms of “form versus content.” The section entitled Political Propaganda as Operatic Dramaturgy investigates the fact that in many operas “musical-dramaturgical effectiveness apparently counted for more than a political or social message.” The final portion of the article, The Social Signification of Genre, addresses questions such as “was opera, precisely because of its social prestige, more of a threat to idealist aesthetics than the more purely commercial market wares of dance music and popular song” and “does opera in this period promote a cosmopolitan ideal, an international cultural collaboration more alien to instrumental repertoires?” In conclusion, Grey believes that “the effects of opera’s statements rests ultimately less on the specific text of the message than on the nature and power of the medium … The political and social value of opera will always be a hostage to aesthetics.” While in the article Grey concentrates upon political issues, there are some parallels with other nonpolitical works, such as Gounod’s Faust, which would be interesting to examine (especially the prison scene.)

30. Grierson, Edward. Storm Bird: The Strange Life of Georgina Weldon. London: Chatto and Windus, 1959. 287 p. CT788W46G7. This is an extremely important biographical study on one of the most unusual individuals of her period, Georgina Weldon. This monograph uses, for the first time, primary source materials—Weldon’s letters and diaries—to which the author had sole access. These valuable items are in the possession of Marjory Pegran, who inherited them from her mother, who herself had received them directly from Georgina Weldon upon her death in 1913. These primary sources include 28 journals, “hundreds of packets of letters, postcards, even telegrams,” and important personal possessions of Gounod, such as “his ink well, baton, spectacles, writing paper and envelopes and some of his French decorations.” The whereabouts of these items are unknown at the present, given the monograph was written almost 50 years ago. Grierson uses quotes from these sources throughout his volume; however, since the items are not catalogued, there is no method of citation. This is unfortunate. Chapters 10 through 14 deal primarily with Weldon’s relationship with Gounod. This includes the composer’s work with the Royal Albert Hall, and that fiasco, his lawsuit against Novello and Sons regarding publishing rights, and the situation

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surrounding the commission of his oratorio The Redemption for the Birmingham Festival, concluding with his departure from England. This study is written in a very accessible narrative, in what is almost a noveltype style. The characters are real and very vivid, thanks in no small part to the use of letters and journals. All primary source material is quoted in English and it is not clear from this if any of it was in French. This volume is valuable for the light it sheds on Gounod’s time in England and his relationship with Weldon. 31. Hemmings, F. W. J. The Theater Industry in Nineteenth-Century France. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. 319 p. PN2634.H39. ISBN 0521441420. This study, while devoted to the spoken theater as opposed to the lyric theater, is an important study, which offers insights into the development of French theater from an art form designed to entertain the elite, to a business rooted in the changes characteristic of the industrial revolution. The author begins by identifying the three “major preconditions for the successful launch of any modern industry”—consumers, a reliable workforce, and a group of producers. Hemmings compares this to the newly established railway system, which meets these qualifications, also, uniquely enough, so does the theater! These three preconditions may also be met by opera and productions of the lyric stage. The study is divided into three large sections: one devoted to the audience, the second to the acting profession, and the final dedicated to the profession of the playwright. Each of these is subdivided into sections that more fully investigate the topic at hand, including (but not limited to) such diverse elements as the auditorium, the “claque,” the social origin of the profession of acting, the difficulties of being an actress, and the idea of working-class audiences. The author draws upon a variety of primary source material in his research, and the bibliography, while admittedly not exhaustive, is full of important sources to assist in further scholarly work in the subject area. Hemmings also provides a guide to further reading divided into subjects, such as general histories, performers, theaters and theater companies, playwrights, and genres. The index includes names of writers (including pseudonyms), stage names of actors, and titles of works examined throughout the text. In addition, a chronology from 1799 to 1900 is included which identifies important milestones in political, theatrical and literary history. 32. Hemmings, F. W. J. Theater and State in France, 1760–1905. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994. 285 p. PN2044.F7H46. ISBN 521450888. This volume is a compliment to the monograph above (The Theater Industry in Nineteenth-Century France) and it investigates the relationship of the government—its strictures and changing landscape—to the

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide various theaters in France, from those sanctioned by the state to the small, privately owned theaters that littered the landscape of Paris and most other towns in France. This study traces the vicissitudes of this perennial conflict between theater and government. Beginning with a chapter on the royal theaters of the Ancien Régime and tracing the rise of commercial theaters throughout the country, Hemmings also examines the idea of statesupported theaters and the politics involved, and he offers a chapter on the licensing system and another on the role of political and religious censorship. Despite the diversity of political systems that ruled the country from 1760 to 1905 (the year in which government censorship officially ended) each new government had to come to grips with the vast network of theatrical establishments. In turn, each political administration had to deal with the powerful hold that the theater had upon the public, both the lower and middle classes. The theater could be used by the government as a tool on many levels. This is an interesting study which, when examined along side similar musical studies, offers a more clear and well-rounded representation of cultural life of France in the nineteenth century. It is an important piece of scholarship for all those who are students of theater history, or who are merely interested in this subject. It is thoroughly researched and scrupulously documented, but it is nevertheless accessible to a wide audience.

33. Hemmings, F. W. J. Culture and Society in France 1848–1891: Dissidents and Philistines. London: B. T. Batsford, 1971. 280 p. DC33.6.H43. Hemmings identifies this period in French history as one “characterized by a marked hostility on the part of all the great artists … towards the society in which they lived and for which they were obliged to work.” He continues, “the artist’s alienation from the society of his time was matched by the dislike and distrust with which he was regarded by all the prosperous and influential members of that society.” The struggles and tensions are identified by the author as being partly political and partly social. It was also a difficult time to be especially innovative as an artist. Such creative souls were dealt with either by censorship or ridicule. Throughout this monograph Hemmings examines the literary arts of poetry and the novel, and its use as a political and social tool. He also examines the role of censorship in the arts in the chapter “The Blue-Pencil Régime” and how it affected the periodic press. The artistic styles of realism and impression are discussed with regard to their proponents and detractors, and the social messages that artists like Daumier, Millet, and Courbet sent to the public. Also the role of the “salon” during this period is also mentioned. Music— specifically Grand Opera and Comic Opera—is addressed in the chapter entitled “Fête Impériale.” Here the author investigates the musical style and social role of both of these disparate art forms. The Dreyfus affair and Zola’s response of “J’accuse” are analyzed in the final chapters and support the author’s premise that with this “revolutionary act” the press

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moved from commenting upon political issues to actually participating in and shaping politics. This volume is an extremely important tool in the understanding of this extremely complex and volatile period of French history. Hemmings refers not only to important secondary sources throughout the book, but quotes also from valuable primary sources as well. A helpful bibliography (of predominantly secondary sources) is included at the conclusion of the tome. 34. Hemmings, F. W. J. Culture and Society in France 1789–1848. Leister: Leister University Press, 1987. 342 p. DC33.5.H4. ISBN 0718512650. While dealing with the time prior to Gounod’s most popular period of activity as a composer and musician, this monograph offers appropriate background material on the society that shaped Gounod as a composer and man. This volume examines the role of the arts and culture in a post-aristocratic society (after the French revolution), when artists could no longer depend solely upon the church or court for its patronage. In the post-revolutionary era, the arts were used for many different ends by politicians (namely Napoleon) and philosophers and social revolutionaries (i.e. Saint-Simon). “Culture was recognized to be so powerful a social force, crude methods of control such as the censorship were never more tyrannously applied.” The book asks: what was the social role of the arts and were the arts in line with the furtherance of political programs? The author identifies small groups or “cenacles” of artists—poets, painters, musicians and novelists—who became their own sub-societies and acted as both “producer and consumer.” One has only to think of groups of colleagues and friends, Liszt, Delacroix, George Sand, Musset and Chopin, to recognize the veracity of this statement. This monograph is divided into six sections. The first deals with the period immediately prior to the revolution as manifest in literature and painting—Laclos’s Les Liaisons dangereuses, Beaumarchais’ Le Marriage de Figaro, and David’s Le Serment des Horaces. The second section examines the French revolution by exploring the theater, music, the post-revolutionary festivals and spectacles, and the importance of the visual arts, namely painting. The Napoleonic era is explored in the third section of this book; here Hemmings examines the new emperor as patron of the arts, the importance of the novel, architectural expressions during the Empire, and the founding of the Louvre Museum. The restoration of the monarchy is addressed in the fourth part of the book via the art of Géricault, Stendhal, and the Algo-German invasion of culture. There is an interesting juxtaposition of the “liberal” romantics with the “royalist” romantics. The reign of Charles X, the art of Delacroix, and Berlioz and his musical revolution, are examined in this chapter, as is the Shakespearian invasion of the Odéon, and a discussion of Hugo’s own “cénacle.” The final chapter is devoted to the July Monarch— the “Jeune” France—and includes a discussion of the Grand Opera, public concerts versus private salon music making, and the continued importance

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide of the literary form of the novel. This book is a fine assessment of the period in question, and Hemmings sheds light on such a variegated tapestry of French history with well-documented scholarship. His writing style is scholarly but readable by laymen, or those merely interested in this historical era. This is a must for any student of the French arts, as it offers a full picture of the interconnectedness of the important artistic genres of the time. The study concludes with a bibliography arranged by art form, with sources from some of the major scholars in the fields. One thing that does seem to be missing in the bibliography is the inclusion of primary source materials germane to the period.

35. Horne, Alistair. The Fall of Paris: The Siege and the Commune 1870–1871. London: Macmillan, 1965. 458 p. DC311.H68. This book represents an interesting and vivid account of the siege of Paris, brought on by the Franco–Prussian War and the Commune that followed. As the author indicates, after the siege, there was an “infinitely grimmer civil war that followed on the heels of the departing Germans.” In all honesty, Paris “fell twice in the space of six months; first to Bismarck, secondly to the French Government forces under Thiers.” Horne indicates that likewise the city fell in more than one sense: Paris fell in pride of place within the world community, and in morality—the “grim fall … that followed the repression of the Commune.” At the time of the writing of his monograph, the author reminds the reader that many of the contemporary players on the world stage were alive and affected by these historic events. The writing style is graceful and fluid, and this volume—while important to historians and students— is as engrossing as a classic novel. Horne writes with a firm handle on the facts, and in the voice of an experienced storyteller. The book is divided into two parts. The first deals with the siege and begins with chapters that describe the splendor of the Empire; this contrasts greatly to the devastation and political mayhem that follow. The second part explores the Commune, flirtation with socialism, the “bloody weeks,” and the civil strife within Paris yet again. These events—as mentioned by the author—“left the structure of the whole world fundamentally altered. Nothing would ever be quite the same.” The events of this period in French history had lasting effects on the world and, according to Horne, “the Englishman basking in the late noon sunlight of Victorian splendor … and the American … about to plunge into the era of big business, little reckoned that one day they would both be called in—twice—to redress the balance which Louis-Napoleon and Bismarck had upturned.” Also, the author believes that “out of the fabric of the Commune Marx was to weave social and revolutionary myths of immense portent.” The Commune was also the end of any further attempts at a monarchy for France; the splendor and brilliance of the line of Napoleons, Bourbons, and Orléans, was over. This book helps to put the artistic tenor of the time in perspective; it gives a clear and fascinating account of Gounod’s Paris at the end of his career.

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36. Huebner, Steven. “Opera Audiences in Paris, 1830–1870.” Music and Letters, 70/2 (May 1989): 206–225. The author uses various archival data including contemporary periodicals, personal journals, and archival sales receipts, to determine the structure of the French opera audiences at the time. He includes two informative tables in his analysis, the first of which examines the social composition of subscription audiences at the Opéra, Théâtre-Italien, and the Opéra comique according to the number of subscriptions (of nobles and non-nobles) and subscribers’ occupations. The second table analyzes the selected ticket prices for these same opera houses for the years 1834, 1847, 1851, and 1867. After his examination of the data Huebner indicates “a true workers’ opera had only a brief existence in Paris in 1847 and during the early 1850s.” His statistics also show that there is “some evidence that shopkeepers and minor civil servants did not regularly attend the opera” and that “the aristocracy did not constitute a majority among the body of wealthy opera subscribers.” In closing, the author believes that other sources, such as the “non-archival, interpretative variety in reviews, memoirs, and novels,” must be scrutinized for what they may reveal about the opera-going habits of the Parisian audiences. 37. Huré, Jean. “The Immediate Future of French Music.” The Musical Quarterly 4, no. 1 (Jan. 1918): 74–77. http://www.jstor.org/stable/738137 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. The author believes that the overpowering influences of the Germanic symphonic school and the Italian operatic traditions have helped to bring about the death of French music. While the author believes that the French “genius” is not lacking, its “external manifestations” have become “impoverished” because of these international artistic pressures. The rebirth of French musical culture, Huré believes, finds its roots in the musical styles of Couperin, Rameau, and Charles Gounod, and consequently he asserts that these composers have laid the foundation for a “modern” musical style. These style characteristics include “sweetness,” a “soberly emotional charm,” “discreet form, of elegance without triviality.” Interestingly enough, the author continues to extol the “classic” elements of earlier music, and the prophecy that “the modern artists will assimilate ancient methods,” but he does not point to any of the contemporary artists who are practicing this. In closing Huré also predicts that “the art of tomorrow will be an art of quiet … the art of tomorrow will be like the science of today, made up of logic, of deduction, of simplicity in the midst of the greatest complexity.” It is this type of new music that the author links back to the musical style of Gounod—“bold and free, eager to dart in full flight over the highest summits.” 38. Johnson, Graham and Richards Stokes. A French Song Companion. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. 530 p. ML54.6 .JF74. ISBN 0198164106.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide This book is “devoted to the exploration of as fabulous a treasure trove as was ever part of a country’s heritage, a musical cache even less appreciated and vaunted than the German Lied.” With that said, Graham Johnson—the well-celebrated pianist-accompanist to scores of singers over the past few decades—launches into the introduction to this useful and important reference tool. Given the scope of the subject, Johnson and Stokes have designed a tool which, while not meant to be comprehensive, offers English-speaking singers and music lovers accurate and accessible translations of selected songs in French. The reader must be aware that this volume is highly inclusive and multinational: the authors include French, German, American, British, Swiss, Italian, Romanian, and other composers who wrote songs in the French language. Johnson also includes music by women composers, many lesser-known composers (both male and female) who were once better known and whose music was at one time popular in the concert hall and salon. By his own admission, “the majority of songs discussed in [this volume] were chosen from a musician’s working collection [Johnson’s own], rather than as a result of library research.” Following the introduction, Johnson has written what he labels “a pocket introduction” to the history of the mélodie. While this is interesting, and names of composers whose music is included in the volume appear in bold type, for some readers the history lesson may be too cursory and superficial. Despite this, the author makes many salient points and ties together the historical developments and changes in the genre. Johnson refers to Gounod as the “first mélodie composer of genius,” and identifies his indebtedness to Neidermeyer, Monpou, and Reber. Throughout this historical litany, the author mentions specific songs by various composers as representative of their style, and more often than not, he identifies valuable musical contributions to the genre by these composers. Happily, many long-forgotten composers of merit are included in this discussion and elsewhere in the text. Following this general history lesson, the authors continue with a discussion of each composer (proceeding alphabetically) and include English translations of important songs. Regarding Gounod, the authors state that he “succeeded in one important respect where a more revolutionary spirit failed: he built bridges between the past and the future rather than burning them.” He praised Gounod for his melodic gift—a singable melody—which “enabled him to smuggle the art song … into the homes and hearts of the French middle class where operatic airs, operetta, romance, and chansonnette had previously held sway.” The section on Gounod offers a brief biography mentioning specific composers and pertinent biographical information that would explain and shed light on his song repertory. The authors indicate that Gounod was influenced by Schubert and the Mendelssohns whom he met on the Prix de Rome tour. There is also a valuable analysis of Gounod’s song chronology—the earlier works being the more original and successful, with the post-1870 songs (during his time in England), being uneven to say the least. The

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authors offer solid reasons for this fact in their discussion. Thirteen songs of Gounod are included in translation: “Venise,” “Le vallon,” “Le soir,” “Au rossignol,” “Aubade,” “Sérénade,” “O ma rebelle,” “Le premier jour de mai,” “Envoi de fleurs,” “Mignon,” “Chanson de printemps,” “L’absent,” “Viens, les gazons sont verts.” In the afterword to the monograph, the authors include a list of 80 sources for further reading which include books on French song in general, monographs on single composers and their songs, composers’ own writings on their song repertory, sources for composers’ autobiographies and memoirs, iconographical sources on various composers, and finally the volumes from the Garland series of French song. Useful indices are included at the conclusion of the book: index 1 is of selected poets, index 2 is a list of composers, and index 3 is of the titles of songs included in the book. This is an extremely useful and valuable tool for musicians in general and indispensable for singers of every level of accomplishment. 39. Lacombe, Hervé. The Keys to French Opera in the Nineteenth Century. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001. 415 p. ML1727.4.L3313. ISBN 0520217195. The author identifies three main stages in which he examines: 1) material conditions surrounding the creation of an opera which determined the work’s writing, performance, and reception; 2) the laws of artistic structure that dictated the drama, poetry and music; and 3) the social, generic and aesthetic foundations of the nineteenth-century French opera system. The author believes nineteenth-century opera is an art form dedicated to entertainment, desiring to surprise and impress. In his discussion of Gounod, Lacombe identifies the composer as a reformer, entering the scene at a low point in the history of French opera. Quoting Saint-Saëns and Reynaldo Hahn, the author identifies the concern “for purity, the fine style, [and] the fitting expression” of Gounod’s works. His music is also characterized as simple and truthful, with “dramatic depth,” and “density of musical discourse,” especially in Sapho. Lacombe quotes Saint-Saëns’s praise of Gounod’s musical style and technique of orchestration that involves subtle color and delicate nuance. The composer’s success as a musical poet with the ability to capture the expression of true love is examined. The monograph is copiously documented and includes several appendices on the various sources of Bizet’s Les Pêcheurs de perles, including one on cuts, another on box office receipts, and another on the staging of the opera. The book concludes with helpful biographical information on the various composers mentioned throughout the text. It is an extremely fine and important addition to the study of a period in the genre’s history that, until recently, did not exist. 40. Laurence, Dan H. “The Library at Shaw’s Corner.” The Annual of Bernard Shaw Studies 20 (2000): 157–160.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide This brief article examines the contents of George Bernard Shaw’s library that has survived intact since the time Shaw presented it to the National Trust (Great Britain) in 1944. This library of Shaw is located at Ayot St. Lawrence and was shelf-marked and catalogued in 1980 by the former custodian, G. Fraser. It contains over 3,000 volumes (not including duplicates) and includes such eclectic authors as Homer, Gibbon, Trotsky, Rousseau, Kipling, William James, Jung, Thoreau, Lillian Hellman, Upton Sinclair, Jacques Barzun, Yeats, and others. There are also more political papers and volumes regarding the British and Irish controversy. In addition to these monographs, collections, and other special literary works there are about 350 musical scores and sheet music, especially vocal music. These include such items as Messiah, Fidelio, Parsifal and Boris Godunov. Interestingly enough, Shaw’s musical collection included Sciabin’s “Mystic chord” Sonatas, tone poems of Strauss, Puccini’s Turandot, Debussy’s piano music, Wolf Lieder, and more modern works by Elgar, Frank Bridge, Arnold Bax, John Ireland, and Sir William Walton. Among these scores is included Gounod’s Faust (Queen Victoria’s favorite opera), as well as La Reine de Saba. Shaw’s collection also includes 78 rpm phonograph recordings of Shaw’s own voice.

41. Legrand, Raphaëlle and Nicole Wild. “DuLocle et Carvalho ou Les Pêcheurs de perles 1870–1898.” In Regards sur l’opéra-comique. Trois siècles de vie théâtrale, p. 149–168. Paris: CNRS Editions, 2002. 289 p. ML1727.8 .P2. ISBN 2271058856. This chapter addresses the “particularly ostentatious period” of the OpéraComique during the end of the nineteenth century, which the authors attribute to Gounod. They identify him as “the originator of the regeneration” that occurred during this time, pointing to Roméo et Juliette, Mireille, and Cinq-Mars as works which exemplified the grandiose style during this time. The article is a virtual litany of works and composers who—like Gounod—provided the Opéra-Comique with lavish and extravagant operas. Some of these include Victor Massé (Paul et Virginie), Delibes (Lakmé), Bizet (Carmen), Lalo (Le Roi d’Ys), Bruneau (Le Rêve), and Massenet (Manon). This house also performed French translations of popular operas including Mozart’s Les Noces de Figaro, Rossini’s Le Barbier de Seville, Verdi’s Falstaff and Wagner’s Le Vaisseau fantôme. This period came to an abrupt end with a tragic fire in 1887. An interesting chapter, which pertains to an especially active period of Gounod’s involvement, the authors include many helpful and valuable pictures and photos not only of performers, but of mis en scène and publicity posters. 42. Lowerre, Kathryn. “Some Uncataloged Musical Resources in the Harvard Theater Collection with a Handlist for the Bound Musical Volumes.” Notes 62.3 (2006): 537–620.

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This article briefly considers the materials found in the bound music collection and, according to the author, “suggest[s] possible directions for further research related to them.” It concludes with a handlist of the items and various indices for locating material by characteristics such as composer, dramatic production, or place of publication. The author offers an overview of the bound musical collection. These volumes provide information related to the history of music publishing in the United States, and the history of musical tastes and reception of European opera by American musicians. These volumes also contain compositions of nineteenth-century music for flute and harp—a combination popular with non-professional performers. The author also briefly examines some individual volumes of interest, especially the collections of Martha Curtis, which include piano and vocal music; manuscript copies of operatic music by Paisiello and Cimaroso; and various song-sheets from the end of the eighteenth century. Some other interesting volumes include the music of Gluck, Handel, and Piccini. The influence of European musicians within the United States is also manifest in several of the volumes, including numerous piano transcriptions by virtuosos such as Henri Herz, and various collections of French songs published in Paris. Also of great interest to scholars are the collections of music published in Boston, including The Boston Flute Instructor and music of the American Civil War from both Union and Confederate publishers. This collection at Harvard is also a valuable tool for tracking music publishing across the U.S. Looking carefully at the handlist, one can see the gradual expansion of music publishing both south and west across America, to Baltimore, New Orleans, Cleveland, and Chicago. Some of the personal music libraries housed within the bound music collection include those of families well known in Boston and others connected with Harvard University, such as Catharine Flint, August Peabody, Robert Gould Shaw, and George Bensen Weston. The majority of this article is a listing of bound volumes with details of contents. Each entry is assigned a number preceded either by the name of Tawa or Lowerre depending upon the scholar who assigned it. There are seven volumes of music by Charles Gounod, which include transcriptions, opera arias, or piano works. Some pieces are original piano works while others are arrangements, most likely by other composers. This article is a most valuable resource for any scholar investigating music of the nineteenth century, American musical theater, operetta, American music publishing, musical tastes and domestic music performance in the United States, and related topics. 43. MacDonald, Hugh. “The Prose Libretto.” Cambridge Opera Journal 1 (1989): 155–166. http://www.jstor.org/pss/823589 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers of JSTOR only. This article addresses an extremely important and interesting issue of nineteenth-century opera, namely the versification and rhyme scheme of

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide the libretto, and to this end, the author brings together several names which are not normally mentioned in the same breath: Gounod, Mussorgsky, Bruneau, and Debussy. In so doing, MacDonald draws on primary source material—the preface to Gounod’s George Dandin—in which the composer states his views. To Gounod at this time (ca. 1870s), verse is a kind of pied piper which leads the composer astray; he nonchalantly let himself be led … It seems obvious to me that if he is induced to care for truth by the natural shape of prose, the composer has everything to gain in expressiveness, and nothing to lose by predictability. The use of a prose libretto, rather than continual reliance upon poetry (or verse), will, in Gounod’s opinion, free the composer. This was not a totally new idea—Berlioz addressed it, as did Ducondut in his book Essai de rhythmique française and Castil-Blaze in his Art des vers lyriques of 1858, and MacDonald brings all of these sources into his discussion. However, the author believes that: the question of setting prose librettos did not become a critical issue until the early 1890s, by which time the enrichment of musical style had caused sung words to be so elaborately extended that meter and rhyme had both almost ceased to function. In addition to the writings of Gounod and others on the idea of a prose libretto, MacDonald also examines the thoughts of one of the most popular librettists of the late nineteenth century, Louis Gallet, who had collaborated with Gounod, Bizet, Saint-Saëns, and Massenet, among others. It was Gallet who explained that rhymed, metrical verse was no longer necessary because of the flexible phrase-lengths and free rhythmic qualities of modern music. In his defense of this type of libretto, Gallet quotes the Belgian composer Gevaert who agreed that: “what could be more absurd than to keep rhythmic stresses in a text when they do not correspond with the melody?” Other evidence to support prose rather than verse in opera libretto is to ensure a more realistic language for the characters in the drama. Regarding this element, Charpentier (composer and librettist for his opera Louise) is quoted as saying to a translator of his libretto: “You have given the father (a working man) a poet’s language. Your love of fine words and poetic phrases has caused you to forget the subject, the location and the social standing of the characters.” However, this type of “naturalism,” MacDonald reminds his readers, came under bitter attack at the turn of the century. In closing, the author indicates that after all the debate and essays devoted to the subject of prose libretto during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries: two impulses stand out: one is to shake opera free of the shackles of conventional verse, allowing composers more independence in phrase-lengths (by avoiding rhyme) and rhythm (by avoiding meter) …

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The other is the pursuit of stage realism, speech-rhythms, and a kind of higher truth not attained within the confines of ‘artificial’ forms. An extremely valuable article that contributes to the multifaceted art form of nineteenth-century opera, this investigation draws from a variety of primary sources and not only brings the issue to life but allows the participants in the drama to speak for themselves. 44. Macy, Carleton. Musical Characterizations in Selected Faust Works: A Study in Nineteenth Century Musical Rhetoric. DMA thesis, University of Washington, 1978. 331 p. ML240.4.M23. This dissertation is described as a research project “seeking to refine theories of musical style … utilizing procedures of systems analysis to gather data and applications of probability theory for assessing the validity of those data.” Herein the author presents the theory that there are “common means of musical characterization within an historical period and therefore a commonly used musical rhetoric. Musical characterization is musical commentary upon a given character, idea, or situation achieved through selective use of musical elements.” The author’s hypothesis is that “there will be specific musical elements used both in isolation and in distinct groups as functions of distinct characterizations,” and in conclusion Macy found that “all areas of like characterizations in the works sampled make consistent use of certain musical elements.” The works examined in the thesis were: Wagner’s Faust Overture, Berlioz’s The Damnation of Faust, Schumann’s Scenes from Goethe’s Faust, Liszt’s Faust Symphony, and Charles Gounod’s opera, Faust. In these compositions, the author looked for common rhetorical devices, concentrating upon certain intervals, tempi, mode (major/minor), and the emphasis of certain scale degrees, to identify “musical characterizations” (i.e., motives) such as “dissatisfaction,” “hope,” “female innocence,” “infatuation,” “negation,” and “grace.” The thesis contains various charts that compare the musical works together with the diverse musical themes. It is a fascinating study that, given the state of current musical technologies, could be more easily and perhaps exhaustively carried out now. The idea of mimesis and rhetorical devices in music has a venerable scholarly tradition, and the concept of applying this field of study to music of the nineteenth century could prove to be an extremely valuable field of research. 45. Nectoux, Jean-Michel. “French Archives: Music in the Archives of Paris Churches.” 19th-Century Music 7, no. 2 (1983): 100–103. Perhaps the most neglected aspect of nineteenth-century French music making lies in the realm of sacred music. According to Nectoux, the accepted canon (Berlioz’s Requiem, Gounod’s Messe de Sainte-Cécile, Fauré’s Requiem and Messe Basse) is but a small fraction of the significant religious music of the time. He also believes that “more music of these and

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide other composers must be scrutinized before we can presume to comprehend the repertoire.” To that end, the author suggests that the modern musicologist examines the virtually unexplored archives of the churches of Paris, not just Notre Dame and La Madeleine, but the lesser-known ones as well, to uncover the details of music making and performance tradition in addition to the possible cache of music and manuscripts contained therein. By examining these archives, light will be shed upon the repertory, performers, liturgical practices and traditions, expenses, the use of instrumental music, and the like, thereby creating a clearer picture of the sacred music genre in situ. Nectoux points to the Archives Diocésians at 11 rue de la Ville-l’Evêque (near La Madeleine) as the first large depository of materials gathered between the world wars. In addition, he indicates that other parishes and important churches maintain their own archives, including Saint-Augustin, Notre-Dame des Champs, and NotreDame de Lorette. The pity is that many churches culled their archives and repositories throughout their history for various reasons. The author shares his experience in the archives at La Madeleine where he found autographs of Fauré’s Requiem that were destined for the incinerator! Nectoux identifies primarily two types of archival materials found in Parisian churches: official registers and the “other various papers pertaining to the daily life and work of the parish.” The registers are themselves divided into several categories: liturgical (baptism, marriage, deaths), registers of the “conseils de fabrique,” and for the main churches, “conseils de chaptire.” It is in this last category that according to the author one can discover music information about music, including rosters of musicians, payment to various musicians, accounts of the engagements of extra musicians, decisions on the building and repair of organs, competitions for the appointment of organists and chapel masters, and the like. Also, contained in many churches are records of the repertory (library lists), dates of performances, copyist payment logs, and the like, which can help in dating the composition and premiere of various works, not to mention shedding light on the traditions of repertory. From this type of catalogue, we know that many Parisian churches employed “surprisingly few” singers (5 to 6 men and about 20 boys), that Gregorian chant was accompanied by serpent and organ, with the remainder of the repertory being accompanied by organ and double bass. We also now know that for “first class” weddings and funerals string quartets and two harps were often engaged, while during holy days (Christmas, Easter, Pentecost, and Assumption) orchestras were engaged in addition to supplemental singers. Some churches may even identify these performers. Finally, thanks to these archives, we are given some indication as to repertory at St. Eustache and La Madeleine, where both Fauré and Saint-Saëns performed sacred music of Handel, Mozart, and Haydn, much to the dismay of the clergy and people! At the time of writing this article, and even today, not enough work has been done in the archives of Parisian and other French churches. This type of inquiry

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will provide a better understanding of the musical traditions and practices in these churches, and consequently bring into focus the entire repertory during this period. 46. Nectoux, Jean-Michel, editor. La Musique en France à l’époque romantique (1830–1870). Paris: Harmoniques Flammarion, 1991. 348 p. ML 270.4. ISBN 2080663054. This is a very fine collection of essays dealing with the kaleidoscope of musical life in France during the majority of the nineteenth century. Nicole Wilder’s article “Le spectacle lyrique au temps du Grand Opera” explores the repertory of the major opera houses in Paris—the Opéra, the Théâtre-Italien, the Opéra-comique, and the Théâtre-lyrique. The author examines the music, libretti, and the mise-en-scène for these houses, describing the uniqueness of each venue. Elisabeth Bernard’s article, “Musique et Communication” deals with general concert life from approximately 1815 to 1870 with assistance from the contemporary periodic press. The author concentrates upon salon recitals and the idea of “benefit” concerts. She also examines the larger concert circuit, which featured prominent soloists, in addition to the burgeoning symphonic concert venues. Malou Haine’s offering, “Les facteurs d’instruments de musique à l’époque romantique,” discusses the role of Paris as a leading city in the industry of instrument manufacture. It also explores the workshops of piano makers, organ builders, accordion makers, and producers of wind instruments. The article likewise deals with the locations of the manufacturer’s studios, the effects on industrialization, the international market for these French instruments, and the people who bought them. In “Piano et pianistes,” Anne Rousselin-Lacombe presents a study on the role of the piano in French life from 1830 to 1870, with special attention given to bourgeois tastes, the economic situation (which enabled people to purchase pianos), and an examination of specific pianists during the July Monarchy and afterwards. The concept of virtuosity plays an important role in this discussion, as do the careers of Liszt, Chopin, Hiller, and Thalberg. At the conclusion of the essay the author offers an enlightening exploration of the “evolution” of the piano repertory from 1830 to 1870. The repertory and establishment of specific of chamber music ensembles is investigated in Joel-Marie Fauquet’s article “Les sociétés de musique de chambre.” Fauquet examines the contributions made by such important players as Pierre Baillot, Charles Dancla, and Adolphe Blanc. In addition to tracing the development of important chamber music groups, the author also includes a discussion of the repertory, performances, and the audience. The essay concludes with a helpful table, which shows the personnel of the Société de musique de chambre from 1814 until January 1870. The violin as a solo instrument is examined in Anne Penseco’s article “Le violon en France au temps de Baillot et de Pagannini.” Here the author discusses methods and techniques of performance, Pagannini’s role in the

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide development of the repertory and popularity of the instrument, and the interpretation of this virtuoso repertory. Also included in the essay is a brief discussion of the string makers—luthiers and archluthiers. The offering concludes with a dynastic tree, showing common roots stemming from Viotti, and breaking either into students of Kreutzer or Robberechts. In the article “Vox populi” Paul Gerbod explores the orphéon tradition in France. He examines the conductors, repertory, and social significance of this organization. The educational value of this tradition, with the permeation of classical music (commissions by notable French composers) and singing primers, is likewise mentioned. Gounod was connected with the orphéon society; he was director of the Orphéon de Paris from 1852 to 1860 and composed some music for this group. The final two essays deal with the nineteenth-century French press and are written by two of the most illustrious scholars in the field. “La presse française du XIXe siècle et l’historien de la musique” by H. Robert Cohen is a fine introduction to the importance of the untapped riches which await the music historian in the pages of nineteenth-century French journals and newspapers. To help with research, Cohen calls the reader’s attention to the indices that now exist, and he identifies some lacunae that await further investigation. Joseph-Marc Bailbé’s article that follows, “La critique musicale au Journal des Débats,” is a paradigm of the research Cohen promotes. In this essay Bailbé explores the role of the music critic as manifest in the pages of one of the most popular journals of the day. He analyzes the contributions made by individual music critics including, Julien-Louis Geoffroy, Castil-Blaze, Delécluze, Janin, Hector Berlioz, and Joseph d’Ortigue. This article is informative and invaluable for a better understanding of the importance of the periodic press to the music of this period. The collection concludes with specific bibliographies for each essay, an index of names, and an index of compositions mentioned throughout the text. It is an extremely valuable anthology of scholarship that admirably covers the diversity of French music in the nineteenth century.

47. Newark, Cormac. “Staging Grand Opéra: History and Imagination in Nineteenth-Century Paris.” Dissertation, University of Oxford, 1999. 282 p. The author has been unable to review this source. 48. Newman, Ernest. “Faust in Music.” In Musical Studies, p. 71–100. London: John Lane, the Bodley Head, 1910. ML60.N524. From the beginning of the essay, the author indicates, “that with a halfdozen exceptions, the Faust-symphonies and Faust-operas and Faustscenes have quite failed to justify their existence.” He believes that this is basically because of “the enormous range and wealth of material in the drama itself.” The author continues: “the First Part of Goethe’s work alone or the Second Part is quite sufficient to tax the constructive powers of any

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composer to the uttermost; but to reshape the whole of Faust in music is a desperate undertaking.” Furthermore he feels that no musical version would “be adequate unless it embraces Goethe’s Second Part as well as the First.” With this said, it is little wonder that he takes Gounod to task and deals mercilessly with the Frenchman’s opera. Newman feels that “to attempt to cover all the psychological ground of the drama would take at least ten or twelve hours in performance” and that anyone thinking of setting the subject would have to do so over two or three evenings, “after the manner of Wagner’s Ring of the Nibelung. Newman states that because Gounod’s own religion is “Catholicism sucré” it is impossible for him to grasp the “austere philosophy” of the subject of Faust, and likewise his “musical faculty” was not “deep enough” to treat such a dramatically elevated subject. He accuses Gounod’s portrayal of Faust as being that of a boulevardier and making Mephistopheles risible. The author derides Gounod for using what he terms “stale operatic formulas,” “fussy little runs and twiddles,” which create a “cheap vulgarization of Goethe.” However, despite these very harsh words, Newman finds that the most beautiful element is the love-music, which the author also believes is what “draws it furthest from Goethe.” After this almost total condemnation of Gounod’s setting of the opera, Newman turns his attentions to other composers who have attempted to capture the essence of the Goethe poem. He also ridicules Boïto’s opera both musically and dramatically, finding it full of “incurable old-Italian-opera tricks, his lame, blind, and halt melody,” with “monotonous tenuity of his harmony, the odd jumble of Wagner and Rossini.” Newman believes that Wagner and Rubinstein both had the “thinker’s appreciation of the deeper currents of the theme,” but were “woefully hampered by the limited space in which they were compelled to work.” Each composer offered a single-movement essay on the subject. Strangely enough, Newman finds the settings of such Kleinmeisters as Henri Hugo Pierson and Henry Litolff acceptable, but deficient in some element or other. The author praises Liszt’s Faust Symphony finding the movement “Faust” to be “extraordinarily fine character-drawing, and certainly the only instrumental Faust study that strikes one as being complete.” He also finds the Marguerite movement to be “surpassingly beautiful throughout,” and the final movement on Mephistopheles to be “particularly ingenious” with its “burlesque upon the subjects of Faust.” Newman too has praise for Berlioz’s Faust believing the composer to have “a very strong grip upon the inner meaning of the legend” despite the fact that he used Gerard de Nerval’s translation of the work. In closing, the author states that the only setting that surpasses Berlioz’s is Schumann’s because “it stirs us more deeply in precisely the way we are stirred by Goethe’s poem.” He finds Schumann’s scheme to be “in the highest degree philosophical.” In this essay Newman betrays his preference for Germanic music (especially that of Wagner), and in many ways is hypercritical of Gounod’s setting. Whereas he is forgiving of other composers

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide when they fall short of their goal, and even praises the music of composers who have fallen into obscurity today, he seems unable to try to understand that Gounod’s version is not meant to be an identical retelling of Goethe’s poem. He is either unable or does not wish to appreciate Gounod’s work for what it is and for what elements of the original work it highlights.

49. Pendle, Karin and Wilkins, Stephen. “Paradise Found: The Salle le Peletier and French Grand Opera.” In Opera in Context: Essays on Historical Staging from the Late Renaissance to the Time of Puccini, p. 171–207, ed. Mark A. Radice. Portland, OR: Amadeus Press, 1998. 410 p. MT955.O54. ISBN1574670328. This article deals with the multi-faceted art form of Grand Opera in Paris and the importance of the physical structure—the Salle le Peletier—in making the productions so successful. The visual side of the production, Pendle feels, was “the glue that held the other elements in place.” In this study, the authors examine some specific works (La muette de Portici of Auber, Meyerbeer’s Le Prophète, and Halévy’s La Juive) and the ways in which their productions relied on the facilities available at the Opéra. Also, they explore elements of “dramatic theory” that help explain why “the particular spectacles of French grand opera were so effective and so well received.” The article discusses details about the structure of the Salle le Peletier (home to the Opéra) replete with reproductions of engravings that demonstrate the floor plan, cross section views, and backstage views showing the stage mechanisms. The section of the article dealing with the specific works mentioned above, explores the scenes and spectacle involved in those operas and how this was achieved in the performing space. Again, contemporary engravings, and diagrams from the livrets de mis en scenes are included to show not only how complex a job this was, but to explain the precision and detail involved. In conclusion, the authors posit that the “creators of French grand opera in effect produced the prototype of the Wagnerian Gesamtkunstwerk.” After all, according to Meyerbeer, “where but in Paris can one find such immense resources put at the disposal of an artist who wishes to compose truly dramatic music?” 50. Plessis, Alain. The Rise and Fall of the Second Empire: 1852–1871. Translated by Jonathan Mandelbaum. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979. 193 p. DC277.P513. ISBN 0521252423. This monograph is the English translation of De la fête impériale au mur des fédérés 1852–1871 published in 1973. Upon beginning his exploration of this topic, the author notes that “the history of the Second Empire is undergoing rapid change. For a long time it was written by the Empire’s adversaries, and it suffered from its tragic ending … Today, it is being almost totally revised.” To this end, “new interpretations are revealing a period astonishingly rich in contrasts.” This holds true, as others (such as Hemmings above) have noted and demonstrated. Plessis examines the

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reestablishment of Empire with its Napoleonic ideals and its neo-democratic expressions brought about by Napoleon III. The author also examines the governmental institutions of the Empire, the constitutional role of the ministers, as well as the senate and legislative bodies. In the second section of the monograph Plessis explores the governing personnel, the membership in the assemblies and their role in government, and the function of the civil servant during this time. The third portion of the book addresses economic progress through the stock exchange, the railway system, industrial growth, and the responsibility of the state in all of this. The standard of living—with its life styles and attitudes—is the subject of the fourth section of the monograph. Here Plessis investigates the “deproletarianized” population (the peasants), the working-class and social repression, along with the transformation of big cities such as Paris. Artists and writers of the period are briefly mentioned in this part of the study. The penultimate portion of the book examines the period from 1852 to 1861— the heyday of the Empire. This section addresses the relationship between the church and state, Napoleon’s intervention in Italy, the Crimean War, and his attempts at a more liberalized regime. The final chapter deals with the period from 1858 to the end of the Empire. Here Plessis examines the cause of the regime’s failure in social issues and reform, and the collapse resulting in the Commune. A fascinating study, this volume sheds much light on the political and social atmosphere of the period in question. 51. Prévost, Paul, editor. Le Théâtre Lyrique en France au XIXe siècle. Metz: Editions Serpenoise, 1995. p. 353. ML1727.4T374. ISBN 2876921936. This collection of essays is designed by the editor to: strive to restore the true nature of nineteenth-century French opera. It does not have the ambition to constitute an exhaustive history or synthesis of the genre, but to attract the attention of the reader (musicologist, theater director, scene designer, orchestra conductor, singer) to the particular domain of this vast area of research. Prévost’s desire is to speak to a great variety of musical professionals from performers to scholars through diverse investigative methodologies—history, biography, esthetics, criticism, analysis, and the like—for admittedly the “eclecticism” of French opera from the nineteenth century offers a great deal of unexplored territory to the music historian and other musicians as well. To this end the articles contained in this collection include the following: “L’Opéra-comique sous le Consultat et l’Empire” (Legrand and Taïb); “La Vestale de Gaspare Spontini ou les débuts de l’histoire de l’opéra au XIXe siècle” (Walter); “Ferdinand Herold ou ‘la raison ingénieuse’” (Brill); “Giacomo Meyerbeer et le thriller avant la lettre Choc et suspense dan la cinquième act des Huguenots” (Gerhard); “Support littéraire et creation musicale dans l’oeuvre lyrique d’Ambroise Thomas”

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide (Rogeboz-Malfroy); “De l’église des Missions étrangères à la cathédrale de Faust: Notes sur la pensée et le style de Charles Gounod (Prévost) [see #177 which is reviewed separately below]; “La version parisienne du Tannhäuser de Richard Wagner ou l’introduction du psychologique dans le grand opera” (Drüner); “Carmen de Georges Bizet: une corrida de torros” (Huebner); “Polyeucte de Charles Gounod: le regard de la presse” (Coudroy-Saghai) [see #141 which is reviewd separately below]; “Le melodrama musical dans Manon de Jules Massenet” (Branger); “Le théâtre-lyrique français du XIXe siècle dans les collections de la Bibliothèque de l’Opéra” (Wild); and “Définitions des genres lyrique dans les dictionnaires français du XIXe siècle” (Lacombe). This vast array of articles includes analyses of the periodic press, biographical studies, lexiconographical studies, sociological studies, and analyses of individual works by leading scholars in the field of nineteenth-century French music, all of which offer a more complete and in-depth understanding of the period in question.

52. Prod’home, J.–G. “Les musiciens Français à Rome (1803–1903).” Sammelbände der Internationalen Musikgesellshaft, 4 (Aug. 1903): 728–737. Written at the time when the Académie de France à Rome was celebrating its centenary at the Villa Medici, this article is a chronology of the recipients of the coveted Prix de Rome during the first 100 years. The article begins with a brief introduction regarding the founding of the prize established by the government, which originally was for painters and sculptors, with architects and musicians added later. (Interestingly, “dramatic artists” were eliminated and replaced by three musicians.) In addition to the list of composers, the author also includes the title of the work that won the prize, the date, and some limited commentary or additional facts. When writing about Gounod, Prod’homme indicates that he won for his cantata Fernand, and his Mass of 1841 was performed in Rome and a setting of the Requiem was premiered in Vienna the following year. He also includes a list of some of Gounod’s operas, such as Sapho, La nonne sanglante, La reine de Saba, Faust, Roméo and Polyeucte. Prod’homme mentions Louis Désiré Besozzi and Georges Bousquet, both of whom were friends of Gounod and played important roles in his early years. This article is an extremely valuable source of information, for not only does the author provide a listing of the composers and their works, but some of the incidental information mentioned in passing helps to better identify composers and provides valuable biographical information for some lesser-known musicians. 53. Prod’homme, J.–G. “Two Musical Libraries of Paris.” The Musical Quarterly 25, no. 1 (Jan. 1939): 34–47. http://www.jstor.org/stable/ 738698 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only.

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This article gives a general examination of two of Paris’s most important library collections, the Conservatoire National de Musique and the Opera. The author offers a concise history of each collection and a brief mention of the various librarians, before making some generalizations about the various collections. The collection of the Conservatoire contains gifts from the publishers Durand, which includes manuscripts by Saint-Saëns and Debussy, not to mention dramatic and religious works by Auber, Berton, Donizetti, Halèvy, LeSeur, and Onslow. Also represented are Beethoven, Schubert, and Chopin (23 manuscripts) with various sketches and manuscript pages. The Bach family is likewise represented. The large scores of Berlioz—one time librarian—are held by the Conservatoire, including Benvenuto Cellini and Roméo et Juliette. Debussy is represented by a group of 70 items, while Gounod is represented by numerous manuscripts, including La Liberté éclairant le monde (Hymne) avec Choeurs et Orchestre to celebrate the centenary of American independence and the erection of Bartholdi’s Statue of Liberty. Other Gounod manuscripts held by the Conservatoire include the score of Ulysse, the proofs of the opera Mirielle and fragments of both La Reine de Saba and La Nonne Sanglante. Gounod’s hero, Mozart, is also represented by vocal, chamber, piano, and orchestra music, not to mention the famous autographed manuscript of Don Giovanni donated by Mme. Viardot. According to Prod’homme, the library of the Opera contains a unique collection of items that were composed, at first, for the needs of the theater. These works often appear as composer autographs and versions constructed for various performances. Some unique items contained in the collection include Auber’s ballet for Mozart’s Don Giovanni, Alfred Bruneau’s Messidor, and Gluck’s French version of Orphée. Gounod is represented in the Opera library by one of his later operas, Le Tribut de Zamora and a setting of the Mass from 1845. Other composers, which are represented in the library, include Vincent d’Indy, Meyerbeer (l’Africaine and Les Huguenots), Rossini (Guillaume Tell), Verdi (Don Carlos, Otello, Trovatore), Spontini (La Vestale, Cortez, and Olympie), and Wagner (arrangements of the ballet from Tannhäuser, among other things.) The reader must remember that this article was written in 1939, and since then the collections of these libraries have undoubtedly changed. However, this article still remains a valuable contribution to the literature on the subject. 54. Rabb, Theodore K. “Opera, Musicology, and History.” The Journal of Interdisciplinary History 36.3 (2005): 321–330. This essay is actually a recapitulation of a conference “Opera and Society” which took place at Princeton University, March 26–27, 2004. Rabb’s article asks the main question “why does opera matter?” and perhaps more specifically “at what point do opera, politics, and society converge?” To this end, the author investigates three primary points, which connect opera to the larger sphere of society and politics; these include: political

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide propaganda, the advocacy of revolution and democracy, and intense nationalism. The author mentions various operas that support these claims, and he also mentions specific presentations given at the conference. Rabb also indicates that, from its inception, opera was “a reflection of, and commentary on, the society that it entertained.” In addition, he believes that opera also reflects “broad cultural and social developments” which are linked with “patronage, finance, and commerce; the perceptions and responses of audiences; and the influence of particular places at particular times.” More specifically, Handel’s operas “reflect the patronage system in place at the time, and social commentaries that the works prompted,” while during the French Revolution, cultural “elitism” and democratization were important factors in operatic expression. Rabb also points to a larger theme that emerges in this comparison of opera and history, namely “how music can shape, and even create, popular opinion.” In closing, the author believes that a truly complete study of opera is, by its very nature, an interdisciplinary endeavor. This article is not only useful in its exploration of the conference presentation topics, but it also lays the foundation for further interdisciplinary studies in music which even today need to be more fully investigated.

55. Runyan, William Edward. “Orchestration in Five French Grand Operas.” Dissertation, Eastman School of Music, 1983. 362 p. In this study the author examines Auber’s La muette de Portici, Rossini’s Guillaume Tell, Halévy’s La Juive, and Meyerbeer’s Robert le Diable and Les Huguenots. It is the author’s belief that these five operas “collectively determined the defining attributes of French grand opera,” and that while they all manifest different approaches to orchestrating dramatic music, “the unity of the aim and the constituent elements of grand opera generated a common aesthetic of orchestral writing.” Runyan also posits that the style and techniques of orchestration in these works and other operas of the time “enriched the growth of the symphonic orchestra during the remainder of the nineteenth century.” Each of the five operas is examined in an entire chapter devoted to it, wherein the author discusses the unique—and at times not so unique—elements of orchestration and handling of the various groups and soloists within the orchestra. La muette de Portici is characterized by its balance between colors, frequent combination of woodwind instruments and brass into a distinct wind group, the variety of woodwind scoring and generally conservative orchestral use that is typical of opéra-comique. Guillaume Tell stresses “rhythm through color,” creates local color through instrumental means, and it possesses an adroit use of woodwind instruments and virtuoso scoring for the horns. Halévy’s La Juive emphasizes valved horns and trumpets, “imaginative blends of wind instruments” and “full, thick texture owing to duplication of line and harmony.” Meyerbeer’s two operas Robert le Diable and Les Huguenots both use unique combinations of instruments, “dark textures through the

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use of subdivisions of low instruments,” “frequent juxtaposition of extremes of texture, color, range, and dynamic levels.” The latter of the two also has “more emphasis upon virtuoso solos,” the use of more unusual instruments including the bass clarinet and viola d’amore, and “the use of the English horn as a section, rather than a solo instrument.” In closing, the author stresses that together all of these unique usages of the orchestra “formed a repository of techniques and effects whose depths of expression considerably enriched the growth of the symphonic orchestra.” Furthermore Runyan feels that “it was the widespread popularity of grand opera, as well as its skillful progressive orchestration, that promulgated that orchestration as a paradigm.” This is a valuable and critical study, which demonstrates an extremely thorough investigation of the material; however, it would have been helpful to have presented some of the material in chart form to facilitate comparison. 56. Spies, André Michael. Opera, State and Society in the Third Republic, 1875–1914. New York: P. Lang, 1998. 264 p. ML1727.8.P2 S78. ISBN 0820436968. The author indicates that this monograph is intended for musicologists, historians of the Third Republic, and scholars interested in the relationship between cultural and social phenomena. He also admits that he has tried to write in such a manner as to be “accessible to opera buffs.” With this said, Spies realizes, by his own admission, that he will invariably displease everyone to some degree. However, he continues undaunted to offer an extremely fine assessment of the period, the genre of opera, and the connections between the art form and the political society of roughly 1875–1914. Chapters include investigations of the administration of the Opera, the audience and the ideology of the Opera, the Opera as a public institution, music criticism, opera and cultural hegemony, and the state and the ideology of the Opera vis-à-vis Carmen and Jeanne d’Arc, two diametrically opposed but popular French archetypes during this time. Though admittedly the author’s primary concern is “to draw conclusions about the social function of French opera, the changes in opera’s content … depend on and in turn corroborate a particular interpretation of pre-war socio-political development.” To this end, Spies recognizes three distinct types of opera libretto during the period in question: in the first years of the republic the works hold a distinctly aristocratic point of view and were shaped by family tradition; after about 1879 the message was that of subordination of personal honor to that of national interest and devotion to the state; and the final type, which occurs in the 1890s, championed the idea of social equity and even “rehabilitated the French Revolution.” 57. Strasser, Michael Creasman. Ars Gallica: The Société nationale de musique and its Role in French Musical Life, 1871–1891. PhD dissertation, University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, 1998. 683 p. ML 270.4 .S77 A77.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide This dissertation is the first full, scholarly examination of one of the most important musical organizations of the nineteenth century, the Société national, which almost single-handedly shaped the musical tastes of Paris from the period between the Franco–Prussian War to World War I. This study addresses questions such as how accurate was the picture painted of this organization by early chroniclers; what role did the society play in reinvigorating French musical culture; and would France “recover its greatness only by emulating those features of German society that were responsible for its inherent strength.” The author divides the work of the society into three phases: the first (1871–81) he considers to be “a truly eclectic gathering of reactionary classicists and advanced Wagnerians.” The second phase (1881–1891) “saw a band of young composers grouped around César Franck assuming an ever larger role in the administration,” and they forced the more traditional and conservative composers out of the organization. The third stage (1891 to roughly 1914) was “increasingly perceived as dogmatic in its philosophies and limited in its programs,” and many composers broke away to form a new group, the Société musicale indépendante.” This study deals only with the first two phases primarily because the archival material used in the dissertation was readily available for this period. The author divides the study into three sections. The first examines the period leading up to the foundation of the society and offers a survey of the concert life and the efforts “on behalf of the young French composers during the Second Empire.” The second part focuses on the first ten years of the society’s existence, “detailing the early stages of its growth,” while the final section covers the period from 1881 to 1891, the “period of the Franckist’s ascendancy.” Strasser draws heavily upon primary source materials including the archives at the Bibliothèque nationale, the Archives nationales, and many contemporary essays from journals, newspapers, and musical weeklies. The study includes investigations into the policies and procedures of the organization, postFranco–Prussian war concert life, press reviews of the young composers involved, the role of the so-called Franckists, the repertory of the society concerts in the 1880s and the influence of Wagnermania on concert life in Paris. The author also includes five important appendices, which make valuable archival information available for the first time to the general public. The first appendix contains an English translation of the original statutes of the society. The second contains the committee rosters of the organization from 1871 to 1890, which lists the names of the members. Composers appearing in the society’s concerts from the 1871 to the 1881 appear in appendix three. This is an extremely valuable appendix in that it lists composer’s names, and the number of compositions (orchestral, vocal, and chamber music), and the number of times each work received performance, helping to give a clearer picture of the musical life during this period. The fourth appendix is an augmented list of the composers who were represented in concerts during the 1881 and 1882 seasons. The

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final appendix lists the individual compositions (and composers) in each individual concert from 1871 until 1891, a total of 215 concerts. From these appendices, it is clear that the music of Gounod was only marginally represented. His music does not appear in any of the concerts until February 1880, and from this point he is only represented in only 11 concerts. With little exception, the music of Gounod heard in these concerts included mostly early and small-scale works (songs and piano pieces); however, a string quartet was heard in the concert of December 19, 1885, and on March 19, 1887, the string quartet no. 2 was performed. Interestingly, Grove (2001) lists a string quartet no. 3 in A minor from 1895, but does not include the first two quartets in the works list! This is an extremely interesting and valuable scholarly study, which provides important information for the continued study of nineteenth-century French music. Strasser’s examination of archival and primary source materials makes this dissertation even more useful and reliable to future students of the period. 58. Thompson, Brian. The Disastrous Mrs. Weldon. The Life, Loves and Lawsuits of a Legendary Victorian. New York: Doubleday Press, 2001. 343 p. CT788.W46. ISBN 0385500904. The most recent account of Weldon’s life and times (the other being from 1959), this volume is engaging and informative, offering the reader a clear sense of the personality, temperament, and machinations of this unique woman who was at one point closely connected with Charles Gounod. The author dedicates an entire section of this monograph to their relationship, an element of Gounod’s biography that is often expunged from or not included in some of the contemporary sources of the composer’s biography. Thompson indicates that most of his information is taken from Weldon’s own six-volume account of her life, Mémoires de Georgina Weldon: Justice (?) Anglaise from 1902, and from various English pamphlets of hers as well as the short-lived newspaper Social Salvation, the latter of which is held in the Bodleian Library in Oxford. Thompson comes to some basic conclusions regarding the non-sexual relationship between Gounod and Georgina Weldon: “all in all, Georgina was no more disturbed than Gounod. The difference between them was nothing to do with sanity, but talent … She shared with Gounod an exasperation with other people and a deep sense of being unjustly persecuted.” The author finds their relationship to be based upon maternal feelings on Georgina’s end, her desire to collect important people to further her career, and a frustrated sexual attraction mixed with her hero worship of Gounod. Thompson’s primary information on Gounod has come (by his own admission) from James Harding’s book Gounod (citation #10 below), which he describes as “wise and witty.” Clearly not intended as a scholarly monograph and despite its accessibility, footnotes and appropriate citations are lacking, and the bibliography is very limited.

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59. Tunley, David. Salons, Singers and Songs: A Background to Romantic French Song 1830–1870. Aldershot & Brookfield, VT: Ashgate, 2002. 283 p. ML25278.P37. ISBN 0754604918. A very interesting study, this monograph investigates the little-explored realm of salon music-making with an attention to detail regarding compositions performed, the specific performers involved, the salon hosts and hostesses, and the all-important influence of the salon life on the song repertory of the time. Tunley examines the Parisian appreciation of Schubert Lieder and the transformation of the French Romance into the Mélodie, a phenomenon that Gounod has been accredited with facilitating by more than one scholar. The author employed many primary sources including published diaries, correspondence, autobiographies, and the periodic press to offer the reader a more full and accurate account of salon life and its influences on contemporary music making. The end date of the study was selected not so much because it is the beginning of the Franco–Prussian War and disrupted French artistic life, but because Tunley believes that after the war and subsequent Commune, French song began a new stage in its development and, in some cases, it even cast a shadow upon the earlier examples of the genre. In addition to the nine chapters, which address everything from the performers, to the salons, and the idea of Romanticism to the French “discovery” of Schubert’s songs, the author also includes five important appendices, which will be invaluable to anyone studying the French song in the nineteenth century. One appendix, and arguably the most important, is a listing of the private salon recitals from 1834 to 1870 which is compiled from reports in the Revue et Gazette musicale, Le Ménestrel, and Le monde musical. [For more information on this see Appendix 8 in the present volume.] This is organized chronologically, and includes lists of the names of the salons, the singers who performed, and the songs that were sung. The list is unfortunately silent regarding the accompanist, and any instrumental music that may also have been performed. Another valuable appendix lists Schubert’s solo songs published by the French firm Richault; others include extracts from a singing manual, L’Art de changer les Romances by Romagnesi (1846); a contemporary description of Monpou’s L’Andalouse (from 1846); and an extract from chapter XXI of Jules Janin’s The American in Paris (published in London in 1843). Accounts of Gounod’s contribution to the genre of French song and instances of his music being performed in many of these salons are found in this monograph. 60. Turner, J. Rigbie. “Nineteenth-Century Autograph Music Manuscripts in The Pierpont Morgan Library: A Check list.” 19th Century Music 4, no. 1 (Summer, 1980): 49–69. In this article the author provides a brief history of the manuscript collection at the Pierpont Morgan Library begun by J. P. Morgan between 1880

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and his death in 1913. The original collection featured medieval and Renaissance illuminated manuscripts, early printed books and fine bindings; prints and master drawings; and literary and historical manuscripts. This already fine collection was augmented by the deposit of books and manuscripts from the Heineman Foundation in 1962. The Heinemans collected printed books, autograph letters, and music manuscripts, which were ultimately donated to the Morgan Library in 1977. In 1968, the Mary Flagler Cary Charitable Trust donated an impressive collection of music manuscripts, printed books, and other music material once belonging to Harry Harkness Flagler and Mrs. Melbert B. Cary. This collection is rather heavy on items from the nineteenth century, with three-quarters of it including works by Beethoven, Schubert, Mendelssohn, Chopin, Brahms, and Strauss. The collection of Robert Owen Lehman—one of the world’s finest private collections according to the author—was deposited at (but not owned by) the library in 1972. This collection contains a “splendid group of manuscripts belonging to Alfred Cortot, the eminent French pianist who died in 1962.” Specifically, it contains music by Fauré, Debussy, Ravel, and Franck. It also contains a large number of manuscripts from the Second Viennese School. Lehman was the only collector of those associated with the Morgan Library that was actually a musician; he studied with Nadia Boulanger for ten years. Finally, Reginald Allen’s Gilbert and Sullivan collection has been housed at the Pierpont Morgan Library since 1949. Following a historical explanation of the collection, Rigbie offers the beginning of a checklist of items from A to G. The listing indicates that the library possesses nine manuscripts of Gounod’s music. Appendix 1 in the present study lists specific items from this collection. 61. Wright, Gordon. France in Modern Times: From the Enlightenment to the Present. New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1995. 490 p. DC110.W7. ISBN 0393967050. In general, the author has as his central focus “the evolution of France’s political system and social structure;” however, this monograph is not intended solely for college-level instruction. The author indicated that the book “might be read for pleasure” and consequently it is an accessible and enlightening monograph. The study is divided into four sections, covering the period of 1750 to 1994. The first section covers the period from 1750 to 1814—the age of revolution—and here the author addresses the decadent Monarchy, the revolution and the “dictatorship” of the Napoleonic Empire. The second part deals with the bulk of the nineteenth century, roughly 1814 to the eve of the Franco–Prussian War of 1870. Here Wright examines the restoration governments of the Bourbons and Orleanists, the less-than successful republican “experiment,” and intellectual and cultural currents of the period. The third section is dedicated to the period from Franco–Prussian War to post-World War I, and the author discusses the growth of the republican movement in France, which was perhaps at its

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide strongest during this time. There is also a discussion of the relationship of France to Europe during this time, and an examination of its place on the world stage. The final portion of the book is the grandest in scope and deals with post-World War I to 1994. Post-war politics and the depression of the 1930s are examined along with the political struggles that followed. The devastation that came with World War II is investigated, namely the Vichy government and a divided France, which gave way to DeGaulle’s regime after the war. The conclusion of the monograph examines French thought and expression during the period of 1919 to 1994, which ranges from Dadaism to Existentialism and Derrida’s “deconstructionist” method. In that so much history and many events are addressed in this monograph, it is impossible for the author to explore his topics in detail; however, this work is admirable, and offers a very fine introduction to the modern history of France through its governmental structures. Periodically the author lists other sources for further reading; however, there is no comprehensive bibliography.

62. Wright, Leslie Alison. Bizet Before Carmen. Ph.D. dissertation. Princeton University, 1981. 435 p. This very insightful and important dissertation is divided into the following chapters: an Introduction, which addresses the lacunae in Bizet scholarship; Background Information on the Musical Manuscript, which deals with their location and physical characteristics; Bizet’s Procedures Before Orchestration, which examines various compositions and the issues and problems surrounding their orchestration; Orchestration and Early Revision of Ivan IV, which gives a history of the work, the orchestration procedure and the importance of the pre-rehearsal revisions; and finally From Rehearsal to Revival, which deals with various elements of La Jolie Fille de Perth. From the very beginning Wright indicates that there are three major lacunae which make dealing with the music of Bizet challenging: the lack of a thematic catalogue, the lack of a complete critical edition of his music, and the lack of a comprehensive critical edition of his letters. This study does, however, include “a survey of the known autograph manuscripts and information about their history and physical characteristics,” and it “discusses representative theater manuscripts … with the objective of proposing the validity of a generalized outline of compositional procedure.” In addition, this dissertation “has revealed much about Bizet’s craft—how he proceeded in a technical sense, how he entered layers of revision in his superficially neat manuscripts, and where and when he tended to rework his ideas.” Bizet’s most famous work, Carmen, is not included in this study, in that according to Wright, this opera is a musicological problem unto itself, and while it is the only work of the composer that is in a critical edition, the present critical edition is so muddied that a reassessment of the work is necessary. This dissertation is rather directed toward furthering the knowledge about Bizet’s manuscripts and

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compositional process. Included in this study are several important appendices: a comparison of Henri Busser’s score of Ivan IV with Bizet’s; a discussion of the major variations among Choudens scores of La Jolie Fille de Perth; an historical timeline of legislative history of censorship in France from 1835 to 1875; a facsimile of the Choudens contract form in La Jolie Fille de Perth; a description of the “manuscript complex” of Jeux d’enfants and Petite Suite d’orchestre with a clear table format; and the last three appendices are transcriptions of music from Ivan IV , the third of which includes three versions of the “Chant du Cosak” from Act II. This dissertation, which is full of tables, musical examples, and handwriting samples, is a welcome addition to Bizet scholarship, and has hopefully inspired further research into the music of this worthy composer. 63. Zeldin, Theodore. France 1848–1945: Taste and Corruption. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980. 417 p. DC33.6.Z46. ISBN 0192851004. A study of aesthetics, society, and life in France spanning the Second Republique to the end of World War II, this volume is insightful and helpful in understanding this very complicated and pivotal period of French history. Chapters include discussions of the periodic press, science, social interaction, and a chapter on fashion and beauty, under which music is discussed. The author addresses music education in France in the school system and in the various choral societies, the “financial bases” of music making vis-à-vis the Opéra, the Opéra-comique, and the Théâtre italien, as well as some of the instrumental organizations. Information on music publishing is included in this discussion, and Zeldin offers some interesting statistics regarding the number of publishing houses, and the various types of compositions published. Unfortunately, many of the statistics deal with figures and information in the early twentieth century. The author indicates that opera had “fallen low after the supremacy it enjoyed a century ago.” From all the information Zeldin offers in his discussion of music, he believes that “the ideas of beauty were moving in two opposite directions simultaneously: the increasing individualism of artists was paralleled by strong pressures, on the side of their public in favor of conformist taste.” This pressure, the author believes, can be better understood through an examination of the periodic press, which he does in another chapter. This volume is a must for anyone who is a student of French history and aesthetics.

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Primary Biographical Sources: Pre-1894

64. Anon. “Funérailles de Charles Gound.” Le Ménestrel (Oct. 29, 1893): 345–347. This is a brief description of Gounod’s funeral at La Madeleine with a reproduction of the speech delivered by the composer’s friend and collaborator, Jules Barbier (representing the commission of authors and dramatic composers). According to Gounod’s wishes the funeral music was simple plainchant, various movements of which were sung by some of the leading opera singers of the day, for example the “Dies Irae” was sung by M. Mauguière of the Opéra-comique and M. Auguez of the Opéra. Camille Saint-Saëns and Théodore Dubois both shared the responsibility of playing the organ. There were also several dignitaries present, including Ambroise Thomas representing the Conservatoire, Victorien Sardou, president of the society of authors and dramatic composers, Gérôme, representing the Académie des Beaux-Arts, Ernest Reyer, member of the Institute, Jules Barbier, from the commission of authors and dramatic composers, Eugene Betrand, director of the Opéra, and Carvalho, director of the Opéra-comique. In his speech, Barbier proclaimed Gounod to be “one of the most beautiful geniuses to honor French art.” In honoring the composer’s “singular and complex nature,” Barbier described his onetime colleague as ready to “come to the aid of the weak, encourage the timid, to make himself available to the unknown.” Gounod, according to Barbier, had three different aspects to his life: the man, with a great heart; the philosopher, with a great soul; and the artist with a great spirit. As a man he described the composer as “good, generous, [and] loyal,” while as the philosopher, he was a Christian, ever ready to quote scripture from his prodigious memory and to use his religion as inspiration for his artistic expression. As an artist, Gounod was classic: devoted to Mozart and Beethoven. His style was “clear, luminous, sober and measured” (he quotes from Arthur Pougin), and he was devoted to simplicity and “the truth” in music. According to Barbier, Gounod’s “admirations were the key to his works. Shakespeare, Goethe, and Moliere were his real collaborators.”

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65. Anon. “Charles Gounod.” The Musical Times 34, no. 609 (1893): 649–650. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3362619 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. Dated November 1, 1893, only days after the composer’s death on October 18, this brief article is a “record of the leading features of his long and distinguished career.” While mentioning all the major (and some minor) compositions upon which Gounod’s reputation rests even to this day, the article also offers a chronology of the composer’s biography, his Prix de Rome days, his time at the church of the Missions Etrangères, and his various operatic ventures. Although it is not a critique of his life and work, the author does make some pronouncements on Gounod’s “remarkable industry and versatility.” He finds the composer to have been a “very great melodist with an unerring sense of beauty and symmetry.” In addition, the author believed Gounod “was an ideal representative of the charm, the elegance, and the stately grace of the best type of Frenchman.” In closing, the author comments on the composer’s personality, stating that he possessed “a most winning personality, and the attractions of a highly cultivated intellect … he was a brilliant conversationalist, a fine scholar, a most suggestive and witty writer, and a master of the art of irony and badinage.” Despite its brevity, this article is a fine chronology of the composer’s career, with some insights into Gounod’s person. 66. Bennett, Joseph. “Gounod: The Man and the Master.” The Musical Times and Singing Class Circular 34, no. 610 (Dec. 1, 1893): 713–716. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3361236 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers of JSTOR only. Written just two months after Gounod’s death, this article offers a limited amount of biographical information, while concentrating more upon understanding the composer’s artistic nature and inspiration. The author believes that Gounod’s “extreme sensibility to outward influences, above all, to everything that is sensuous in nature and art” reflects the composer’s “feminine” nature. This characteristic he attributes to the composer’s maternal guidance (as his father died when he was young). Gounod’s religious mania and pietism is also attributed to his “feminine sensibility.” Bennett does admit that this femininity is “quite independent of sex, for there are womanly men as well as manly women.” The author also indicates that Gounod’s early teachers, especially Lesueur, and his time in Rome and his friendship with Lacordaire, were also important in his musical and personal development. “Beauty in any form captivated him,” and “the great masters of the beautiful in art were as gods, to be worshipped with all the intensity of feminine devotion.” Bennett even compares Gounod to Joan of Arc and her voices, as he recounts a comment that Gounod made: “My art begins to burn when I am tranquil … it seems that the heavens brighten all at once, and that voices sing to me that which I

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide ought to write.” Because of this intense worship of the beautiful, it was little wonder to the author that Gounod would take Mozart as his “chief god.” This was also manifest in his comment, which Bennett quotes, regarding contemporary music. “We run after the strange, the excessive, the bewildering; simplicity seems to us silliness; every rule a timidity, every method a fetter, all discipline a prison … Are not all the conditions of art fulfilled in Don Giovanni?” In his quest for the beautiful, the author believed Gounod to be a dreamer and a mystic, but “he was not the apostle of an ideal, charged to reveal the music of a world above and beyond his own.” Bennett states that Gounod’s music “revels in luscious harmonies, slow moving and languorous, decked out with all the voluptuous coloring that a modern orchestra affords; it is rich in melodies of sensuous charm.” It would appear from the author, that while others of the time strained after uniqueness, Gounod searched for the beautiful, and his music is the manifestation of that search.

67. Blaze de Bury, Henri. “Charles Gounod.” In Musiciens du passé du present et de l’avenir, p. 281–316. Paris: Calmann Lévy, 1880. 438 p. ML390.B57. Written during the composer’s lifetime, this essay by the music critic Blaze de Bury is divided into six sections, all of which deal with the composer’s dramatic music: the first examines Gounod’s opera Faust; the second deals with Le Médecin malgré lui and Mireille; the third section is on Roméo et Juliette; the fourth deals with a little-remembered opera, CinqMars; section five explores Polyeucte; and the final section is a brief conclusion. Over all, Blaze de Bury finds Gounod’s music uninspiring and lackluster. He pronounces Faust “a masterpiece in title only.” It lacks unity—in the church scene it is Meyberbeer, in the scene where Valentin returns, it has the military pomp of Haléy’s La Juive. He further complains that Marguerite is not Goethe’s heroine and that, on the whole, the opera is an Italianized representation in music. The best word the critic can find to describe Gounod’s Faust is the English term, “lovely.” To him, this word embodies the agreeable, the pretty, and the sentimental. Le Médecin malgré lui, on the other hand, the critic finds rather successful, for here Gounod “ingeniously exploits archaism and shows a clever spirit.” The opera Mireille he finds rather dull—an attempt at reconciling Wagner and Mozart—and the result is boredom. After much praise for Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, which Blaze de Bury considers “an immense counterpoint, like the most knowledgeable, most vast, and strongest fugue ever written,” he then examines certain points of Gounod’s setting of the story. Here, the critic indicates that the composer’s only talent is to “lure you, to coax you and to draw you in by eternal mirages.” His favorite part of the score is Juliet’s recitative in the balcony scene; the so-called “Lark” duet was not really Shakespeare—it was “too zealous, too furious.” Blaze de Bury’s opinions of Cinq-Mars and Polyeucte (the next two sections of the

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essay) are similar. In both cases, the author compares these two works with operas by others. There is too much in Cinq-Mars that he finds similar to Auber and Meyberbeer’s Les Huguenots; it is a dated work. Polyeucte, he finds, suffers from being too subjective; opera “lives on action, intrigue, and passion,” and Gounod’s religious-themed opera, is stifled by “a sentimental philosophism” (“philosophisme sentimental”). He asks whether it is an oratorio or opera. It lacks “a dramatic life, truth, color, originality in the portrayal of characters, and the expression.” In conclusion to his essay, the author believes Gounod to be “one of the delicates, one of the curious, who are the charm of this period of transition, and whose art represents that of Gérôme or Cabanel in painting of the day.” He further states that in a time of Rossini and Meyerbeer, Gounod colors in “half-tint” (“demi-teinte”) and that his theater as compared to that of Meyerbeer is “infantile.” 68. Bovet, Anne Marie de. Charles Gounod: His Life and His Works. London: Low, Marston, Searle and Rivington, 1891. 244 p. ML410. G7. Bouvet’s account of the composer, written during his lifetime, uses an elevated style of writing and offers a rather protective account of the composer’s biography and totally omits the whole affaire Weldon. She deals with Gounod’s life in chronological fashion including four chapters on the man and artist that exhibit most clearly her fondness for the composer. She incorporates quotations from contemporary reviews as well as articles written by Gounod himself and material from his autobiography. Reproduced in this monograph are some letters between Bovet and the composer. However, the author does not make clear how much of her material is taken from correspondence and personal contact with the composer. 69. Comettant, Oscar. “Les manuscrits de Charles Gounod.” Le Ménestrel 43 (Sept. 26, 1875): 341. This brief article is in the form of a letter that Comettant sent to the director of the Siècle regarding some manuscripts of Gounod which Georgina Weldon “held hostage” in London. Comettant indicates that one day a heavy package was delivered to his home marked “personal effects” in which were various manuscripts which had been in the possession of the Weldons since Gounod’s return to France after the Franco–Prussian War. Comettant contacted Gounod (who was in the country) and he came within a few days to retrieve them. One of the more important items was the orchestral score to Polyeucte, which in the meantime Gounod had recreated from memory. The scores included in the package were: the full score of Polyeucte; a notebook with the first ideas of the oratorio The Redemption which was begun in 1869; the first part (a fugue in D minor) of an instrumental Mass for full orchestra begun at St. Leonards on Sea in May of 1874; the score of Georges Dandin; and the libretto of Polyeucte,

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide which belonged to Jules Barbier. The story of how Comettant negotiated with England for the return of these scores has been recounted and is well –known, and in this brief account he confirms this, but not in any specific fashion. He does not admit what exactly he did (if anything) to obtain the release of these items. The article is quite important in that it does indicate what the specific items were and it offers some information about each one of the five.

70. Debussy, Claude. “Apropos of Charles Gounod.” In Debussy on Music, p. 223–225. trans./ed. by Richard Langham Smith. 353p. ISBN 0801494206. ML60.D313. Debussy praises Gounod for not being a part of any school of composition, and “even if Gounod did not tread the harmonious path we would like him to, he must nonetheless be praised for having known how to avoid the imperious spirit of Wagner.” Recognizing Gounod’s weaknesses, Debussy believes him to be a “cultivated” composer who understood Palestrina, collaborated with Bach, respected Gluck, and recommended the music of Mozart. He also identifies the influence of Mendelssohn in Gounod’s music. Debussy uses this homage to Gounod as an opportunity to complain about the foreign influences on French music and musical taste, especially that of Wagner. 71. Engel, Louis. “Gounod.” In From Mozart to Mario, Reminiscences of Half a Century, vol. 1, p. 146–170. London: Richard Bentley and Son. 1886. 339 p. ML385.E58, vol. 1. This is a valuable although brief reminiscence regarding Gounod from someone who had met the composer on various occasions, and in addition to performing some of Gounod’s music in concert, he also (by his own admission in another essay in this collection) worked on the composer’s behalf to help secure performances of his operas in London. Here Engel recounts details of Gounod’s personality—how he can erupt like a volcano, with words flowing “like boiling lava … in a veritable cataclysm of speech” and how, when a different subject is introduced he will calm down and reply in “perfect quiet.” Engel also relates his performance on the harmonium, accompanying soprano Miolan-Carvalho, violinist Vieuxtemps, and pianist Thalberg, in a performance of the Bach/Gounod “Ave Maria” in Baden-Baden. The performance was augmented by a chorus and orchestra with four harps conducted by none other than Hector Berlioz. The piece was encored by the audience, much to the dismay of Vieuxtemps, who upon foreseeing a third encore, quickly packed up his violin and ran out of the door! In addition to these stories, Engel takes issue with Gounod’s published birth date of 1818, and suggests that (on the reliability of contemporaries) it should be either 1811 or 1812. The author also draws a comparison between Wagner and Gounod, stating that while the former was his own worst enemy—“condemning nearly every

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contemporary composer and belittling those who had acquired great reputation as the result of their undoubted merit”—Gounod took “good care to attack nobody.” Engel believes Gounod is “an excellent and honorable man,” who is “one of the most poetically expressive composers of our century.” He further states that “he has produced harmonies and modulations entirely his own, new and beautiful, with a clearness of nature and simplicity of form, doubly gratifying in an age of musical torture.” 72. Éscudier, Leon. “Charles Gounod.” In Mes Souvenirs, p. 258–264. Paris: E. Dentu Libraire. 1863. 350 p. In general, Éscudier is rather disappointed in Gounod. He had originally had great hopes for the composer, but he feels that Gounod has given “more flowers than fruits.” The author notes that the operas of Gounod lack drama, and that his orchestra does not possess any “melodies.” The composer’s operas are also described by the critic as being “pompous and academic,” and that his comic operas do not deserve to be associated with that genre for they do not even bring a smile to the face of the listener. To Éscudier Faust is Gounod’s Austerlitz and La reine de Saba is his Waterloo. The composer is viewed as being pedantic by the author. He states: “there are no rules, there is only dogma.” He accuses Gounod of writing his love duets at the organ. 73. Johnson, M. “Rédemption, oratoire de Charles Gounod.” Renaissance musicale 2.36 (Sept. 3, 1882): 283–284. According to the editor of the journal, this brief review of Gounod’s oratorio was written by a Mr. Johnson, the English correspondent for the Figaro. It is a review of the English premiere, which took place at the Birmingham festival in the 1882–1883 season, with a translation by M. J. Troutbeck. The author describes the overall impression of the work, and mentions some specific numbers, but avoids any in-depth analysis or insightful aesthetic pronouncements. He also points to orchestral effects that added to the drama of the piece, as well as singling out specific soloists for praise. 74. Jullien, Adolphe. “A propos de la mort de Charles Gounod.” Rivista musicale italiana 1 (1894): 60–67. A brief eulogy of the composer, this article begins with mentions of the memorial concerts to be held for the composer; namely, at the Chatlelet (where “Le Vallon,” excerpts from Sapho, the “Hymne de Sainte-Cécile” and Gallia would be performed), and at the Concerts Éclectiques (which would perform excerpts from Mireille). Also, Jullien includes brief excerpts from some of the public tributes made about the composer. He quotes from one by Jules Barbier at the funeral, one by M. Gailhard, another by Gérôme, and finally one by Camille Saint-Saëns. Gounod was praised for his operas and his sacred music; however, Jullien believes that

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide the composer’s later religious music (Mors et Vita and Rédemption) contain some “noble” pages, if Gounod “had only written these large religious composition at the end of his life, he would not occupy the lofty space in contemporary music and neither would he exercise the influence over the entire French school.” However, his operas contain an “amorous melody … they have an unreserved intelligence, a very vast musical culture” and the author considers that in France, Gounod was the first to feel that opera was not just a series of simple beads of melody that followed one another without development. According to the author, Gounod was also the first to use the orchestra more fully in the operatic action, and not just as accompaniment to the singers. He was an innovator. While his later operas look backward and were of the “old type,” his works including Faust and Roméo et Juliette were his best works. “He was not an ordinary artist,” and in many instances it is the musician alone who will be able to appreciate” certain elements of his art. This is a fine appreciation of the composer that is not overly sentimental, but attempts to be balanced in its discussion.

75. Marten and Meredith, Messrs., transcribers. “Littleton v. Gounod.” The Musical Times 16, no. 365 (July 1, 1873): 143–144 and 149–158. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3353706 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. This is the transcription from shorthand of the court proceedings that the music publisher Novello (through Littleton) brought against Gounod for slander. This affair was exacerbated by the Weldons and, in part, due to Gounod’s lack of command of English. The plaintiff’s representative reviews the root of the complaint for the court which was an article entitled “Gounod and the Sunday Times” and more than likely written by the Weldons. Gounod accused Novello of withholding payments to him in addition to supplying a poor translation for one of his songs (advice which, given his lack of English, he received admittedly from the Weldons.) While Littleton would settle for an apology, Gounod indicates that while he did not mean to “impute fraud” he nevertheless has the ability to “justify the truth” of his words and therefore refuses to make an apology. The transcription continues with testimony from Littleton and Barnaby, and after closing remarks, the jury finds in favor of Littleton and Novello awarding them 40 shillings. 76. Pagnerre, Louis. Charles Gounod: sa vie et ses oeuvres. Paris, 1890. 473 p. ML410.G7P2. This monograph, published when the composer was 72 (three years before his death), is a fine appreciation of Gounod’s life and musical career. According to the author, a great deal had been written on the composer— journal articles, brief analyses, accounts of his life and work—but this book was the first attempt to gather all of this previous information together into one resource, and it is an admirable attempt. Proceeding

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chronologically throughout the composer’s life, the author addresses such details as the family history of Gounod (his ancestor who was sword maker to the king), Gounod’s writings, his work with the Orphéon in Paris, and his dramatic and religious compositions. A chapter is dedicated to Faust, as one might expect, given its importance in Gounod’s career. However, one of the more interesting sections is the “double chapter” on the composer’s time in England where the author does not shy away from dealing with the affaire Weldon. Pagnerre even deals with some of Georgina Weldon’s publications. Despite the author’s attempt at being comprehensive, there are many instances where Pagnerre omits citations. While this is perhaps expected given the year in which the monograph was written, it is nevertheless disturbing. According to the author himself, his “only pretension” in writing this book is “to put under the eyes of the readers contemporary documents, and to sum up the notices that were published on Gounod.” There are discussions of Gounod’s music, but no in-depth analyses. The monograph concludes with a list of compositions. 77. Poincaré, Raymond. “Écolge de Gounod.” In Idées contemporaines p. 108–111. Paris: Bibliothèque Charpentier, 1906. DC385.A65. Although this collection by Poincaré was published in 1906, it contains the oration given in the name of the French government at Gounod’s funeral on October 27, 1893, and therefore should be counted among the primary sources in this monograph. The composer is extolled for being the most noble and pure of French artists, exhibiting the qualities of taste, charm, and nature. He feared excess and avoided gaudiness. Gounod was praised for his melodic gift and his ability to mix “ancient beauty with Christian charity.” He sang his faith just as he sang of love. As a man, Gounod displayed the same artistic qualities. He is admired not only for being a great national artist, but also for his patriotism as demonstrated during the Franco–Prussian war in his cantata Gallia. In closing the author says: “He elevated our hearts with the same movement, he transported our spirits with the same breath, and he gave to two friendly peoples (England and France), the day after his death, the clear vision of his immortality.” The author mentions a few of his compositions—Requiem, Mors et Vita, Roméo, Le médecin malgré lui, Mireille and of course Faust—but only in passing, as examples of his most famous works. 78. Pougin, Arthur. “Charles Gounod.” Le Ménestrel (Oct. 22, 1893): 337–340. This homage to Gounod begins with a brief chronological biography of the composer in which Pougin praises certain work. Faust and Roméo et Juliette he ranks as among the most beautiful, and although he does not mention anything particular about Faust, the author does indicate that the score to Roméo possesses “a chivalric accent, vigor of style, and a uniformity of temper and solidity.” He finds that the music—the love songs, the

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide “desperate accents”—all come together in a “color” which is both “full of brilliance and sobriety.” A lesser-known work, Philémon et Baucis, he describes as “deliciously idyllic,” a “poetic tableau full of tenderness and freshness,” while the Médecin malgré lui Pougin feels is “an exquisite work, sculpted with art and with love … a little archaic.” Other than that, the author glosses over several other works with complimentary yet cursory observations. However, his closing paragraphs describe Gounod more personally as a musician. Pougin believes that Gounod was “an admirable master who will remain the glory and honor of France.” His musical style is “clear and luminous, sober and measured, he possessed to an eminent degree the great qualities of the French race.” And, in perhaps one of his more telling compliments, the author believes that “in a time when one is happy to complicate, he [Gounod] employed in the exercise of his art, this serenity, this simplicity, this soberity of means.” Pougin praises the composer for his musical style that was “all beauty, noble, clear, limpid, and brilliant at the same time, by style and color.” Gounod’s “inspiration is rich, generous, abundant,” and it was marked by “marvelous equilibrium.” As a post-script, Pougin recounts Gounod last day at St. Cloud with Henri Busser, and his subsequent death. In general, this is a nice appreciation of the composer, and within the biography (much of which is commonly known and reproduced elsewhere), Pougin offers some important details of Gounod’s early career.

79. Thomas, Ambroise. “Charles Gounod.” Le Ménestrel (Nov. 5, 1893): 357–358. Less than a month after Gounod’s death, Le Ménestrel published the rather brief address given on behalf of the Conservatoire by its director, Ambroise Thomas. Among other things, the composer praised his colleague for his work with the students of the Conservatoire. Thomas found him to be “an indulgent judge” and an “inexhaustibly benevolent councilor.” In addition to this, he remarked that Gounod possessed “solicitude” with the composition students who were in turn “impressed not only by his example, but by his eloquent words, his reverence for the great masters, and his passionate admiration for their own masterpieces.” Both Thomas and Gounod were students of Lesueur and, as they “marched side by side” throughout their careers, their “affection grew” for one another. It was to this “admired composer” and friend of the Conservatoire that Thomas offered his “supreme farewell.” Gounod will “remain one of the most glorious representatives of the French school” in his opinion. At the conclusion of Thomas’s remarks, the editor of the journal added several brief lines of condolences from other European conservatories: St. Petersburg (Jules Johannsen), Moscow (Tchaikovsky), Bologna (G. Martucci), and Parma (Cardinali). All expressed their admiration and sadness at Gounod’s death.

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80. Weldon, Georgina. The History of my Orphanage. Or, the Outpourings of an Alleged Lunatic (1878). In Women, Madness and Spiritualism, vol. I, p. 29–68, edited by Roy Porter, Helen Nicholson and Bridget Bennett. London: Routledge, 2003. 353 p. RC 451.4 .W6 W6564. ISBN 0415276349. In this vindication, Weldon offers an explanation of her “orphanage” which (in addition to other things) was the cause of her husband trying to have her declared insane. While this primary source document is useful in understanding Weldon’s self-described humanitarian efforts on behalf of the poor and neglected in London, it is also replete with details of her (and her husband’s) relationship with Charles Gounod while they lived together in her home, Tavistock House. Obviously, it is from her viewpoint which, given her unique slant on many things, is biased and selfpromoting; it is nevertheless an important piece of writing. The relationship between Gounod and Weldon has never been fully examined nor what has been examined, fully understood. Her own account, found in this brief pamphlet, portrays Gounod as opportunistic, selfish, and “mad … quite mad.” Weldon describes how she first met the composer who, immediately upon hearing her sing, offered to compose the leading role in his opera Polyeucte for her. Their subsequent falling out, and the fate of the score to the opera is another story; however, she did, as history would have it, come to Paris to sing the soprano solo in Gallia to a rather lukewarm reception. Her reason for writing this “history” was simply “to advertise.” She was looking for support in her endeavors and, no doubt, to convince the public that she was indeed not a “lunatic.” While her program of study for her “children” was unusual, and perhaps unorthodox, her idea was not necessarily so far-fetched. Her writing style is predictably of the period, but it shows the clever and well-organized mind of an independent and determined woman, which during this time was considered by many (professional and laymen alike) to be crazy. The appendix to this tract is the reproduction of a letter by Georgina’s husband, Harry Weldon, written to Gounod. She includes it to show the sympathetic and friendly terms that she and her husband had for the composer whom they both considered to be acting “not in his right mind” and “in a nervous state.” It is proof on their part of how horribly Gounod treated them after they “tenderly nursed” him back to health. Some interesting details come to light in this appendix, most astonishing being the accusation that the composer admitted to attempting suicide several times. The marks of such attempts were apparent on his body, according to Weldon. This allegation is perhaps hard to fathom, given the composer’s extreme religious beliefs, but should not be discounted, despite the source of information. After all, the composer was known to have a very passionate personality. 81. Weldon, Georgina. Mon orphelinat et Gounod en Angleterre; lettres de M. Gounod et autres lettres et documents originaux. London, 1876. 296 p. ML420.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide The author has been unable to examine this source.

82. Weldon, Georgina. Preface to My Orphanage and Gounod in England. 1882. [175]–214 p. ML420.W45 A31. Published separately from #81 above, this preface includes several letters by Gounod written to a variety of people during 1873 and 1874, in addition to one written by Harry Weldon (the author’s husband), and a letter to the editor of an unnamed newspaper regarding the divorce case of the Weldons. The letters of Gounod will be examined below under Gounod’s Writings (see specifically item #206.) Weldon indicates that she wrote her two-volume book while she was: in agony of mind at the thought of doing Mr. Gounod grave injury by defending myself from the shocking calumnies he himself, from the first day he knew us up to the present one, has not scrupled to encourage the circulation of, and to circulate against me. Written and published after Gounod’s return to France, Weldon accuses the composer of turning against her and her husband, and admits to being “foolish” and “imprudent” for trusting “a Frenchman.” She describes herself as having worked (without a “stamped contract”) for Gounod while he was in London, and in this brief prefatory material, she makes herself out to be the injured party in need of justification. Weldon wrote the book “through blinding tears, with despair in [her] heart—for [her] justification.” She accuses Gounod of betraying her and siding with her “enemies” after having promised to help her in carrying out her work in educating poor children. The letters Weldon included in this preface, she believes, vindicate her in various ways. According to her, they show that Queen Victoria’s patronage for The Redemption was not “so easy to obtain;” that Gounod allowed and encouraged her to publish her pamphlet on the controversial Royal Albert Hall disagreement (when he denied it); and that the Birmingham Festival Committee (which commissioned The Redemption) tried to keep Weldon from performing a solo role, even though that was Gounod’s wish. The letters that follow were translated by Weldon. Two additional letters are included—one from her husband to Gounod, which describes Georgina’s mental state and her great grief at the composer’s departure, and the other regarding their subsequent divorce. Harry Weldon attempted to have his wife confined to a “lunatic asylum” but ended up having his wife put in prison for a brief period of time until Georgina (representing herself in court) was successful in having the charges dropped. In this final letter to the editor of an unnamed newspaper, she attempts to “expose several public abuses.” Despite the many things that can be said about Georgina Weldon, she was nevertheless a very strong, determined, and clever woman, who stood up for herself, met life head on and, against all odds, survived some very tumultuous life experiences.

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83. Bellaigue, Camille. “Gounod: musicien.” Revue hebdomadiare 22, no. 1 (Jan. 4, 1913): 53–72. This article is a very fine appreciation of Gounod’s musical style and remains valuable today. Bellaigue speaks of Gounod being “the disciple of masters of the past and of forever,” and he quotes Gounod as having said of Bach: “the influence of the masters is a true paternity.” The author also relates Gounod’s admiration for Mozart and the German school of Felix Mendelssohn which he explains in detail, quoting from both Gounod’s book on Mozart’s Don Giovanni (see below), and Fanny Hensel’s letters. Bellaigue cites specific musical examples in the music of Gounod that betray Mozart’s influence; namely, he believes that Pauline’s prayer to Vesta (Polyecute) is reminiscent of Sarastro’s aria (which one he does not say) in the Magic Flute. Also, the last scene in the first act of Mireille likewise reminds him of Mozart, although the author is no more specific than that. Bellaigue hears the influences of Mendelssohn in Gallia (similarities from Elijah); Gounod’s song “D’un Coeur qui t’aime” seems to him to be very much in the style of Mendelssohn, and in The Redemption, when the women run to the tomb, the author is reminded of the “Scherzo” from the “Scottish” Symphony. Gounod’s classicism is well documented in many sources, and Bellaigue believes this trait is characterized in the composer’s “taste of order and equilibrium” and the “classical hierarchy” of voice and orchestra in his operas. In this sense, the author points to Gounod’s ability to have the voice both sing and speak when appropriate. Regarding this, he quotes Grétry, who said “there is singing for singing, but there is singing for speaking.” Gounod is able to use singing for speaking too. Bellaigue continues to extol the composer’s ability to create beautiful melody, which, he believes “truly represents in the history of our national art and new acquisition, a precious advantage.” To support his beliefs, the author offers examples from Faust, Roméo et Juliette, and Sapho, in addition to the songs “Le Soir” and “Au rossignol.” Specific techniques to which Bellaigue refers include the use of “rosalia.” He also believes that Gounod’s melodies possess a “contour” which had not been used in French music before. Harmonically, Gounod’s music is fresh and new, in that he “found new resolutions of dissonances and discovered a

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide new sense to certain intentions of chords.” This he quotes from SaintSaëns, but sadly does not give the source. In closing, Bellaigue thinks that Gounod’s music possesses a charm that has not been paralleled, even by Berlioz and Auber. His musical style “distains noise” and “ignores pomposity” and, perhaps most importantly, it is music which is able to “impress us.” Gounod, the author believes, became great not just because of his music, but because of his spirit and his soul.

84. Bellaigue, Camille. “Gounod: Musicien d’amour.” Revue hebdomadiare 21, no. 51 (Dec. 21, 1912): 342–358. Here the author explores Gounod’s ability to capture the expressions of love in all its manifestations: passionate, suffering, pure, sacred, and conjugal. He does not use an analytical approach to the music, but rather identifies specific sections of the composer’s operas that successfully convey the many aspects of love. The types of love in Gounod’s operas run the gamut from sympathy, friendship, affection and this, Bellaigue feels, is the “common realm of the genius of his [Gounod’s] soul.” The author noted that in his operatic works Gounod ignored irony, bitterness, and anger. Other composers had their methods of dealing with love: Gluck wrapped it in his “antique stole;” Mozart sang about it “like a flower bud;” Rossini “could only laugh;” but, Gounod “appeared and redeemed it.” It was Gounod who “marked the degrees [of love], the methods, the diverse nuances. He sang about its delicacies and its torments, the weaknesses without a doubt, but also its virtues.” To demonstrate Gounod’s ability to capture the essence of love, Bellaigue turns to the operas Faust and Roméo et Juliette. The author speaks of Gounod’s melody and harmony, as well as chromaticism and orchestration, as ways in which the composer heightens the emotion of a given piece, but he does not offer specific examples. Bellaigue does compare Faust’s “Salut demeure chaste et pure” with the Adagio of Beethoven’s C minor piano concerto for its gravity, nobility, and quasi-religious expression. Interestingly, the composer speaks of “musical psychology” and believes that he knows of no other page in French music that demonstrates this better than the balcony scene in Act II of Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette. He feels it truly captures the Shakespearian original. In addition, Bellaigue believes that in this opera, these “most noble passions ennoble the music.” In closing, the author states “if we study the technique, not just the entire page, but the first measure only, we will better comprehend the feeling or ethos.” This is an interesting article that attempts to define Gounod’s style based upon emotion and the composer’s ability to capture it in his music. 85. Bellaigue, Camille. “Gounod: Musicien religieux.” Revue hebdomidaire 21, no. 52 (Dec. 28, 1912): 484–503. This article is not a litany of Gounod’s sacred music nor is it an analytical essay pertaining to this repertory; rather, it is a personality study in which

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the author discusses how the composer’s religious convictions affected his music. His Catholic faith was an integral part of who Gounod was as a person, and his devout beliefs did not change over the course of his long life; it could be argued that they grew stronger. Throughout the article, the author refers to letters Gounod wrote to his mother during his Prix de Rome days, and other correspondence, all of which are unfortunately not properly cited, and therefore difficult to substantiate. Bellaigue mentions men including Charles Gay (who ultimately became a bishop) and Père Lacordaire who were both important to Gounod during his formative years and throughout their lives as confessors and friends. The author quotes from Veuillot who said that “the Catholic faith gave us Mozart just as she gave us Raphael;” he was quick to add however, that neither were saints, but “their spirit, their soul, their life, all remained Christian.” This, Bellaigue believes, holds true for Gounod, for how else (the author posits) could the composer have given the world such works as Polyeucte with it convincing tale of early Christian martyrdom, or the powerful oratorios The Redemption and Mors et Vita. The author also points to Gounod’s private writings on religion, including his Résumé de la doctrine catholique written for his grandson, or his Réflexions sur la Vie de Jesu by Renan, and his interpretations of the Sermons du pape saint Léon. After investigating Gounod’s religious convictions as manifest in his biographical analysis of the composer, Bellaigue turns to the music. Here he examines primarily the two oratorios in a cursory fashion, mentioning the “purity and elegance of harmonies” and the “spontaneous impetus.” However, he does not analyze the composer’s sacred style, he only uses the fact that Gounod composed these successful religious works as evidence of the influence of his orthodox beliefs on his music. Bellaigue does indicate though, that Gounod’s musical style is marked by a sense of naturalness and moderation, and that his sacred music is “elevated by a more ardent faith and more touching love.” In general, this is a valuable article written not too long after Gounod’s death that attempted to explain the musical style of the composer through important biographical and personal evidence, despite its lack of proper modern citations. 86. Bellaigue, Camille. Portrait and Silhouettes of Musicians. Translated by Ellen Orr. New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1897. 302 p. ML 390. B43. This monograph is a collection of biographies on various composers grouped into three sections: the first is “Three Italian Masters” (Palestrina, Marcello, and Pergolesi), the second is devoted entirely to Charles Gounod, and the third section is entitled “Silhouettes of Musicians” and examines a variety of composers including representatives of the classical era to the then modern day. Composers include (but are not limited to) Haydn and Mozart, Beethoven, Rossini, Weber, Berlioz, and Wagner. It is very interesting that not only does Gounod receive the largest single

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide amount of attention, but his placing in the book is also telling. He is between the early Italian masters, and before the longer litany of composers beginning in the classical period. The author divides his study on Gounod into six sections and proceeds in chronological order through his life and career. Bellaigue quotes freely from other non-identified sources; however, he begins his discussion by thanking the “faithful guardians of his [Gounod’s] memory” who have given him access to manuscripts, letters, and notes for him to use. A pity for the modern reader that he is not more specific! He takes the reader through the more commonly known biographical information with attention to his studies for the priesthood, and his relationships with other composers and musicians, although omitting a discussion of the affaire Weldon and his time in England. Bellaigue also examines several hallmark compositions of Gounod, including Sapho, Faust, Roméo, and Mirielle. He not only gives background information on the genesis of some of these works (with a lengthy account of Gounod’s time in Provence during the compositions of Mirielle), but he offers insightful critiques as well. His analysis is never technical or geared to the musician, but his comments demonstrate a discerning mind and a surprising sensitivity. The author confirms that in Gounod’s musical style (especially in Roméo) the composer is neither “slave to precedent, nor to any other system.” Given that Gounod concentrated his energies on both dramatic and religious music, Bellaigue primarily examines these genres. There is no examination of his two symphonies, his song repertory, or any of the other chamber or instrumental music. The author recognizes in the composer the duality of his musical—and internal—personality, when he states that Gounod was a musician of the Christian world and the pagan world. And he indicates that—like Handel, Mozart, and Beethoven— Gounod composes in the same style whether he is writing an opera or a religious piece. Despite this, whatever Gounod composes (according to the author) is of love—sacred or secular. He qualifies this by saying: the love which Gounod sings is less violent than tender; neither fierce nor frantic, one never fears to find it, as is so often in Wagner’s passion, the brother of destruction and death … it is the love which is loved for itself alone, in its purity … And finally it is an intimate, familiar love, which was unknown to French music before Gounod’s time. This in many ways is the crux of the matter. This is how Gounod does not need to alter his musical style between sacred and secular works. His secular love, say in Faust or Roméo is not passion, but purity. Bellaigue also identifies the composer’s melodic style as “always clear,” with an “economy of structure.” “By virtue of this characteristic symmetry,” the author states, “Gounod is a pure classic, and a son, not only of Mozart, but of Bach.” While this is a fine appreciation of some of Gounod’s music where

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the author supports his comments with specific examples and primary source material (albeit unidentified), it is an incomplete picture of the man and his music. Bellaigue is truly a supporter of Gounod and his musical style, and is perhaps therefore not truly able to be without prejudice. Regardless, for one of the earliest accounts of the composer and his music, it remains an important source composed by a thoughtful and intelligent writer. 87. Bonnet, Marcel. “Preface” to Le Souvenir de Gounod à Saint-Rémy de Provence. Saint-Rémy, 1963. See the entry #172 under Musée Pierre-de-Brun et des Alpilles below. 88. Boschot, Adolphe. “Gounod—Un mélodiste.” In Portraits de musicians, v.2, pp. 53–59. Paris: Librarie Plon, 1947. 224 p. ML385.B8 v. 2. Here the author praises the melodic gift of Gounod, comparing him to Watteau and Fragonard. He describes Gounod’s melodic style as neat and elegant, and possessing the same qualities of art in his music (charm, surety of style, elegance) that these other great French artists possessed. Boschot believes these qualities to be characteristically French. The author indicates that, when the songs of Gounod were first popular (about 1860), they demonstrated a new style, they were “audacious” and replaced the fads in French chanson of “stupid romances” with all their “sentimental platitudes.” Gounod’s songs were truly musical and expressed the thoughts and feelings of an artist. Boschot mentions that Gounod’s music was eclipsed by changing tastes propounded by the disciples of Franck, Debussy, Wagner, and the post World War I group of young composers who mixed jazz with Bach’s counterpoint. Despite this, melody was at the heart of Gounod’s talent, or genius, as the author indicates. He asserts that melody to Gounod was personal—it came from his heart—he sang about what he loved. Finally the author praises the musical form and expressive style of the accompaniment to Gounod’s songs, indicating that they possess an elegance and purity of the works of Mozart and Bach. 89. Boyer, Noël. Trois musiciens français: Gounod, Massenet, Debussy. Paris: P. Farré, 1946. 92 p. ML390.B695. Gounod is given two distinct sections in this monograph: the first is concerned primarily with his opera Mireille while the second is a discussion of Gounod as a Christian. The first chapter explores the genesis of Mireille and includes excerpts from letters of Gounod written during that period that mention the composition of the work. Included also is a letter from Mistral to Gounod expressing delight that his poem was to be the subject of an opera by the composer. Unfortunately, Boyer does not offer a source for these. This section also traces the various performances of the opera into the twentieth century, mentioning the various versions that exist and the relative success of each. The second chapter on Gounod addresses the

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide composer’s orthodox faith, and the author mentions those who influenced the composer’s spiritual life, including Lacordaire. Boyer also indicates that this “interior flame” which ignited his religious life also flamed his creative life and was not extinguished during his old age. The author does not, in the present author’s opinion, address how to reconcile Gounod’s sacred and secular personalities and musical compositions, or even whether or not this is necessary. At the heart of this chapter is a letter Gounod wrote to Hugo (whose poetry Gounod set on several occasions) in 1876; this letter was shared with the author by Gounod’s daughter, the Baroness de Lassus Saint-Geniès. Here Gounod defends the importance of faith in God against Hugo’s utopian ideas. In this brief missive the composer speaks eloquently and simply of his personal faith without being preaching or being condescending to the illustrious poet.

90. Brancour, René. “Gounod.” Rivista musicale italiana 48 (1946): 361–379. This article includes much well-known biographical information and the author organizes it in chronological order, briefly mentioning and examining specific landmark compositions. By his own admission, the author does not attempt an exhaustive investigation or analytical approach; rather, he offers an overview of the composer’s life in addition to some thoughtful insights. Concentrating totally upon the composer’s dramatic works, and mentioning a handful of songs, the article ignores Gounod’s piano music and two symphonies, not to mention the many settings of the Mass Ordinary. What is perhaps the most unique and interesting aspect of this article is the inclusion of letters, including one from the composer’s own son, Jean, himself an artist. Jean Gounod indicates that the composer’s Mémoires d’un artiste provides the most clear and accurate picture of his father, who was a good, hospitable, and gracious man. The author also reproduces letters to Theodore Dubois and Henriette Fuchs to demonstrate Gounod’s kindness and paternal attitude toward these musicians. Brancour (a music history professor at the Sorbonne) sums up Gounod’s genius as “love.” He indicates that “Divine love and human love are connected one to the other by the golden thread of melody … Gounod’s music reflects almost all aspects of human love.” Additionally, the author believes that Gounod was “a great musician because he was a servant”— his music served the text and the drama, not to mention Gounod’s service to his fellow musicians. In identifying Gounod’s musical style, Brancour believed that his early works “recalled Mehul, Herold, Gluck, and above all Mozart.” However, after Faust he became himself—his harmony became “more alive,” his orchestration was “always colorful,” with each instrument retaining its “individuality.” The author also praised Gounod for his tasteful and colorful orchestration, quoting the composer as saying: “The bassoon has everything: emotion, melancholy, passion, mystery.” In closing, Brancour states that Gounod “did not address the masses and he

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did not offer the amusement of solemn marches or popular struggles. But he spoke from the heart.” In other words, Gounod remained above the fray of the more popular-minded composers and he did not indulge in musical controversy. 91. Brocard, Madeleine. “La rencontre de Gounod et de George Sand.” Les amis de George Sand 15 (1994): 33–39. This important article chronicles the introduction of Gounod to Sand, which was facilitated by their mutual friend Pauline Viardot. As early as 1850 Viardot mentioned to Sand in a letter that she had recently met “a young composer who will be a great man and whose music will be known.” The article includes numerous excerpts from between Viardot and Sand, and between Gounod and Sand. Unfortunately, there are no footnotes in the article to identify the source of the letters. However, one of the most important elements of this article lies in its chronicling of the Sand and Gounod collaboration in supplying some “motifs of Lully” for her production of Molière and some music for Nello. The letters and excerpts of letters date from 1850 through 1854 and shed important light on the friendship and collaboration of this important trio of people. 92. Busser, Henri. Charles Gounod. Lyons: Editions et Imprimeries du Sudest, 1961. 104 p. ML410G7B94. This is a valuable and interesting monograph, albeit brief. Busser died at the age of 101 and during his long and active life knew many composers from Gounod to Debussy. He was a particular friend and student of Gounod and even deputized for him at the organ of St. Cloud eventually succeeding his aging and infirm teacher. Given his relationship with Gounod, Busser’s biography is therefore even more important in that, in addition to including much known information, he also shares other more intimate and interesting stories. He draws heavily upon Gounod’s own Autobiographical Reminiscences as the foundation for his work, but includes not only his own views on the composer’s music (often speaking highly of some of Gounod’s less successful pieces), but offers a chapter wherein he recounts other musicians’ opinions of Gounod’s music. In this portion of the book the author includes comments by Fauré, who praises Gounod’s songs and Faust, and considers the composer to be a “miraculous genius.” He relates Debussy’s favorable criticism of Gounod’s Le médécin malgré lui and the garden scene in Faust. Views of Charles Koechlin and Paul Dukas are also included, as are those of Reynaldo Hahn, who believed that the musical trinity was Mozart, Gounod, and Saint-Saëns. At the conclusion of this section of the book, Busser includes a rather lengthy letter from Henri Dutilleux in which he praises the composer for his simplicity and lack of false grandeur. He felt that Faust— composed approximately at the same time as Tristan was begun—was an “antidote” for French musicians. At the conclusion of his letter, Dutilleux

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide admires Gounod for his “infinite purity, indefinable tenderness and the accents of a great truth to express divine and human love.” The final part of this chapter is dedicated to Gounod’s opinions of Wagner, which according to Busser were reasonably favorable. Gounod was especially fond of the first act of Walküre and Siegmund and Sieglinde’s recognition scene, among other things. Gounod however recognized that the main difference in their styles lay in the fact that for Wagner the melody was most often in the orchestra, while for Gounod his melodies were found mainly in the voice. Another interesting chapter, the type of which is not contained in every monograph on the composer, deals with Gounod the man and the artist. Here Busser believes that with Gounod “the man and the artist are inseparable, but the acts of Gounod the musician were always motivated by his humanity, his goodness.” He continues to speak of Gounod’s kindnesses to other musicians and his fatherly attention to younger composers. Busser recounts how respectfully and generously Gounod treated M. Garbet who sometimes copied music for him, and how at his table, the venerable old composer treated the copyist as an equal. In this chapter Busser shares many “bon mots” of Gounod—always a quick wit but never cruel. Perhaps his most famous dictum to Busser was “la mélodie avant tout” which for both composers became their motto. Despite the brevity of this monograph it remains a valuable contribution to Gounod studies and is written by a close associate and friend who does not write from the point of view of self-interest, but rather to offer a vivid and delightful account of the composer.

93. Busser, Henri. “Gounod à la Villa Médicis.” Revue des deux mondes (1961): 290 –295. This article relates Gounod’s time in Rome as winner of the Prix de Rome, recounting the compositions he produced, such as the songs “Le Soir” and “Le Vallon” and the Mass setting premiered at the French church in Rome, St. Louis. Busser also discusses Gounod’s interest in Goethe’s Faust during this time, the composer’s friendship with Ingres, the director of the Villa and amateur violinist whom Gounod accompanied on the piano, and his acquaintance with Fanny Mendelssohn with whom the composer discussed music, art, and literature. Busser recounts Gounod’s second part of the Prix—his time in Vienna and Leipzig—where he met Felix Mendelssohn and became acquainted with organ works of Bach. During this time Gounod also premiered a setting of his Requiem that Mendelssohn described as very beautiful and could have been written by Cherubini. During his time at the Villa Medici, Gounod also composed a symphony in D major that was premiered in October 1843, and which Busser believes shows the influence of Haydn while his second symphony (written at the instigation of Mendelssohn) is more Beethoven in style. The author believed Gounod’s time in Germany was particularly profitable for the young composer of orchestral music. As for his vocal music,

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Busser feels “Le Vallon” presages Fauré and Duparc. He indicates that Gounod’s time with Goethe’s Faust was not spent in vain, for an “O Salutaris Hosita” written during this time was “transformed a few years later” into the celebrated phrase in the duet of the opera Faust—“O nuit d’amour, ciel radieux.” This testifies to the influence of the sacred upon the secular in Gounod’s music to which many writers point. 94. Byron, May Clarissa Gillington. Days with the Great Composers. Second series. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1927. 48 p. ML410.G6B9. This is an intimate and colorful account of a regular day in the life of the composer; however, it is never really clear if it is an actual occurrence where the author spent time with the composer, or if she has created this imaginary day from various other information and materials. She quotes often, but never identifies her sources, although some of the material is from Gounod’s own Memoires d’un artiste. The author incorporates the composer’s thoughts on the artist in society, the music of Mozart, religion and music, and Richard Wagner. 95. Carter, Stewart. “Second Annual Symposium of the Institute for Gounod Studies.” Pittsburgh, PA. March 1992: 38–40. The Institute for Gounod Studies was established at Carnegie Mellon in 1989 in cooperation with the University of Paris, according to the conference report, and to that end the institute is concerned with three areas of investigation: the creative influences of Gounod; performance of music not only of Gounod, but of composers not ordinarily included in the established canon; and the social, political, economic, psychological, and linguistic context of nineteenth-century French musical activity. The conference report examines the four sessions of the symposium. Session one dealt with music and literature. It included presentations such as “Alfred Bruneau and Emile Zola: Naturalism on the Lyric Stage” (JeanMax Guieu), “Satie and the Gymnopedies” (Eric Jensen), and “The Melodies of Lalo: A Paper-Demonstration” (Stephen Self). Session two dealt with the tentacles of Gounod, examining the “broad spectrum of viewpoints pertaining to” Gounod, and featured papers including “From Romance to Melodie: Gounod and Poetry” (Jean-François Thibault), “Gounod’s Faust and Boito’s Mefistofele: Influence versus Innovation” (Allison Terbell), and “The Orphéon Movement at Mid-Century” (Donna Di Grazia). The third session examined music “autour de Berlioz et Liszt” and consisted of papers such as “Berlioz: The Concert Overtures and the Printed Word” (Diana Bickley), and “Bénédiction de Dieu dans la solitude” (Jon Barlow). The final session dealt with French opera featuring papers including “A Second Chance at First Impressions: Tonio in Donizetti’s La Fille du régiment” (Karl Loveland), “The Soldier and the Exotic: Carmen and Lakmé” (James Parakilas), and “A Women’s Work is Never Sung: The Life and Works of Gabrielle Ferrari” (Peggy Monastra).

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide There were also recitals of music by Fanny Mendelssohn, Gounod, and Ferrari.

96. Cooper, Martin. “Charles Gounod and his Influence on French Music.” Music and Letters, 21 (1940): 50–59. http://www.jstor.org/stable/72762 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. Here the author offers a litany of people who influenced Gounod beginning with his teachers: LeSueuer (representative of the Gluck tradition and teacher of Berlioz); Reicha (German contrapuntist and friend of Beethoven); and Halévy (contemporary French opera composer and teacher of Bizet). Cooper also identifies others who were influential including: Ingres, the artist and head of the Villa Medici; Fanny Hensel, who introduced Gounod to the music of Bach, Beethoven, and Mendelssohn, not to mention the literature of Goethe; Pauline Viardot, the great singeractress and his long-time friend; and a Dominican priest, Père Lacordaire, who fueled Gounod’s religious passions. After a quick chronology of the composer’s career, Cooper defines the style elements manifest in Faust which made Gounod great: “naturalness, simplicity, sincerity, and directness of emotional appeal.” Despite the composer’s absence from France during the Franco–Prussian war, and the establishment of the Société Nationale in 1871, Gounod’s fundamental style was still influential. While “outside the mainstream” during his later years, the author believes that Gounod’s influence is heard in the music of Bizet, Massenet, and especially Fauré, who “represents that tradition refined, ennobled, and rarified.” It is unfortunate that Cooper did not cite specific examples of influence and offer more details. If he had, his case would have been more strongly made. 97. Corder, Frederick. “The Truth About Gounod.” The Musical Times 64, no. 959 (1923): 20. http://www.jstor.org/stable/913373 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. A very brief entry, but intriguing by its mere title, this article is a response to the idea that because of the “surging tide of modern music, Gounod is becoming as forgotten as Spohr.” Corder posits that this is because Gounod was “purely a lyric composer, and exceedingly narrow in his musical outlook.” He further indicates that despite his “adequate” musical training, Gounod “refused” to occupy himself with “instrumental passages or the development of themes. (Corder was obviously unfamiliar with the two symphonies for orchestra.) Rather, the author indicates, Gounod’s “poor, hysterical, ill-balanced brain would work only by fits and starts, the most connected and sustained piece of composition he ever succeeded in putting forth being the Garden scene in Faust.” Today, this is rather harsh criticism, betraying an almost vehement dislike for the composer, and an unfortunate lack of familiarity with a wider range of Gounod’s music. Almost begrudgingly the author admits that works

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including Le médecin malgré lui, the operas Mireille, La Reine de Saba, and Cinq Mars, and various songs from his English sojourn contain “flashes of genius.” Oddly enough, the author feels that the infamous “Ave Maria” over Bach’s prelude in C major from the WTC, and the “ditty” “O that we two were Maying” demonstrate the composer’s “excellent musicianship.” He continues to praise the “Ave Maria” as the “consummate feat” that made him believe that “melody is made and not born.” In closing, Corder admits to the composer’s unique style, indicating that “there is not a single piece by Gounod that could possibly have emanated from the pen of Saint-Saëns or Massenet even, to name the best of his followers.” After his earlier, critical comments about the composer’s mental state, the author concludes that “we do not know and never can know how and why a half-crazy poet or musician can turn out pearls and diamonds while the rest of us can make only more or less good cut-glass.” Perhaps the whole question of Gounod’s mental health mentioned by Corder, comes from the composer’s time in England with Georgina Weldon, and his various (no doubt publicized) illnesses which made him take to his bed, and which again occurred at the time when he departed for France. Throughout Gounod’s life there are, by his own admission, instances of great melancholy, and “cerebral fevers” which incapacitated him on occasion. Otherwise, Corder’s comments seem somewhat mean-spirited. 98. Demuth, Norman. Introduction to the Music of Gounod. London: Dennis Dobson, 1950. 62 p. ML410.G7 D4. This is one volume in a set of biographical books on composers. Chapter 1 offers some basic background on the composer, while chapter 2 examines the operas, especially Faust, Roméo, and Mirielle. The third chapter examines the sacred music while the fourth is dedicated to miscellaneous pieces. The concluding fifth chapter is a summary of Gounod’s life and his music. This small volume is very uneven. Unfortunately there is no discussion of his symphonies, piano music, or Gounod’s writings. There is no real analysis of the music, merely descriptive appreciations. Regarding the operas, the author only retells the plots with limited mention of the music. As far as the sacred music is concerned, Demuth dismisses Gounod’s Masses as “tawdry and garish.” And he considers the oratorios as Gounod’s “greatest achievements.” When the author compliments the composer it is in a rather off-handed way. He states: “We may detest his personality and, in general, his aesthetics, but there is no gain-saying in importance. He established a clearly defined French thought from the roots of the earlier French music.” Melodically Demuth finds Gounod weak, harmonically simple, and a “classic” orchestrator, not trying to create effect. This is a brief, limited, and somewhat weak introduction with no bibliography, no works list, and no index. It is clearly intended for nonmusicians, or the amateur.

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99. Dukas, Paul. Les écrits de Paul Dukas sur la musique. Paris: Société d’Éditions Française et Internationales, 1948. ML60.D86. This tribute to Gounod was written upon the composer’s death in October 1893. While Dukas was one of France’s more forward-looking composers of his own day, he recognized Gounod’s contributions to France’s musical heritage. This is not an analytical appreciation of Gounod’s music, but rather it offers some insights into the personality of the composer. After some brief biographical information, Dukas praises Gounod for his beautiful melodic writing, and the composer’s ability to express various passions in musical terms. He believes that the music of Gounod appropriately echoes the characters of Faust, Marguerite, Juliette, and Romeo. Dukas further states that Gounod’s music admirably expresses the personalities of Marguerite and Faust, not only as characters, but also as actual young people. Some of the Gounod’s works that Dukas singles out for praise include Sapho, Faust, Philemon et Baucis, Roméo et Juliette, Gallia, Rédemption, and Mors et Vita. He hastens to add that some of his dramatic music was less successful due in part to poorly written libretti. In conclusion, Dukas praises Gounod as an “eminently affable and fascinating man.” He was likewise a paternal gentleman who was “not only an artist full of faith and enthusiasm in his art,” but he possessed “a sincere and thoroughly good heart.” Dukas adds that “Perhaps this is the most beautiful and the most pure part of his glory.” 100. Hannas, Ruth. “Gounod and Alfred William Phillips.” Musical Quarterly 45 (1959): 508–515. http://www.jstor.org/stable/740599 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. This brief article chronicles the professional and friendly relationship between Gounod and the self-made music publisher, Alfred Phillips. In 1884 he approached the composer to write some sacred solo songs for his firm. There followed an amicable and fruitful relationship that lasted until the composer’s death in 1893. Songs written for Phillips include: The King of Love my Shepherd is, Glory to thee my God this night, Gentle Holy Savior, the composer’s last song When children pray, and several others. His most famous song in this genre, Repentir, was translated by Phillips and became O Divine Redeemer. After the composer’s death, Phillips purchased many manuscripts from Madame Gounod (including Repentir) for the purpose of supplying them with English words. The author includes a lengthy tribute from the Manchester Guardian written upon the death of Phillips. The article concludes with a reproduction of one of Gounod’s letters to Phillips dated October 14, 1892 regarding concert rights to his songs. 101. Harding, James. Gounod. New York: Stein & Day, 1973. 251 p. ML410.G7. ISBN 0812815416. This biography gives a vivid account of the life and times of Gounod. Harding’s writing style is engrossing and his ability to recount events and

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characterize people is very interesting. On the other hand, the author’s discussions of the composer’s music are brief and cursory, with no in-depth analysis—the lack of documentation is disturbing. There is an appendix that contains a works list including cast members of the operas and their publication dates, as well as a list of his literary works. 102. Hervey, Arthur. “Gounod.” In Masters of Contemporary Music, pp. 37— 105. London: Osgood, McIlvaine, Co., 1894. 275 p. ML390.H57. At the writing of this volume, the author indicates that Gounod was still living, but died after its publication. The chapter on Gounod, therefore, is written as though the composer were still alive, referring to him in the present tense. The subtitle of this monograph is “A Series of Biographical and Critical Sketches,” and this is true of the chapter on Gounod. Hervey deals with the more commonplace and well-known aspects of the composer’s life, which seem to be the fodder for most biographies; however, he also includes some insightful excerpts from letters of Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel, and quotes liberally from Bovet’s brief biography and Louis Pagnerre’s biography from 1890. The chapter is a chronological biography mentioning the composer’s most important works. At the outset, Hervey compares Gounod with Mendelssohn, Schumann, Wagner, and the author believes that “there are few creative musicians whose individuality is so striking that it leaves its impress, not only upon their own productions, but upon those of their contemporaries.” He identifies two elements that have “exercised their sway over Gounod,” and which are common influences in the musical personality of Franz Liszt: religion and love. Hervey quotes from a letter of Fanny Hensel to show the composer’s depth of religious fervor and the influence of Père Lacordaire. In this same letter she describes Gounod’s character as “weak” and his nature as being “impressionable.” The author offers a lengthy discussion on Faust, indicating that “the form in which Faust was composed did not tend to differ in any appreciable degree from that adopted by Meyerbeer, with certain Italianisms and concessions to the vocalist were dispensed with.” He continues to briefly discuss La Colombe, La reine de Saba, and Mireille, but spends more time in his superficial analysis of Roméo et Juliet, again pointing to influences of Meyerbeer and stating that “the love music of Roméo cannot compare with that of Faust.” The author however identifies passages, such as “Nuit d’hyménée” as striking “a note of genuine inspiration.” Gounod’s years in England are mentioned with only a passing reference to Georgina Weldon in her appearance as soloist in Gallia, and Hervey describes the opera Polyeucte (written during this time) as “classed among his [Gounod’s] weakest productions.” Likewise, the author criticizes Cinq Mars and Le Tribut de Zamora as works in a “retrograde style” and believes that they are the “least interesting” of Gounod’s operas because they are “constructed upon old and obsolete models.” In general Hervey believes that after Roméo et Juliet, Gounod

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide regressed in his musical style, and that his later oratorios The Redemption and Mors et Vita are not very successful. However, the author does congratulate Gounod on distinguishing himself as a songwriter, citing such pieces as “Serenade,” “Medjé,” “Le Vallon,” “Le printemps,” and “Ce que je suis sans toi” as worthy examples. In closing, Hervey indicates that “the composer of Faust has imprinted his mark in an unmistakable manner upon his epoch. He has struck a note that had not previously been heard.” He quotes Adolphe Julien who stated: “Gounod possesses the genius of assimilation” and the “greatness of Gounod’s talent is derived through the study of the works of all the masters and especially of those of Bach, Handel, Schumann, and Berlioz.” Hervey however believes that all composers do this, but Gounod possesses that which few others do, namely “individuality.” He closes his chapter with a sonnet composed by Camille Saint-Saëns that begins “Son art a la douceur, le ton des vieux pastels.”

103. Hervey, Arthur. “Gounod and his Influence.” In French Music in the Nineteenth Century. London, 1903. 270 p. ML270.4.H57. This essay comprises chapter 6 in this monograph on nineteenth-century music. In general Hervey’s assessment of Gounod is extremely favorable, focusing on his musical achievements and innovations rather than his shortcomings. By his own admission, the author indicates that he is not writing a biography on the composer, despite the fact that he discusses Gounod’s music and accomplishments in chronological order. Hervey believes that one of the main reasons for Gounod’s genius is that throughout his career he remained true to himself; “that he never consciously imitated any other composer, that in all he wrote could be detected the unmistakable mark of his own individuality.” Unfortunately, he gives the reader no tangible examples. Even though the author discusses many works briefly, he concentrates upon Faust, Roméo et Juliette, Mors et Vita, and La redemption as works that demonstrate Gounod’s genius. Hervey interestingly blames the “relentless progress” of time as the reason that many of Gounod’s compositions are no longer popular; however, he believes that his music has not lost “general esteem.” He states: “A masterpiece remains a masterpiece, even if its form has become obsolete and the public has forsaken it.” After a rather brief, albeit interesting, discourse on what makes a masterpiece and why some pieces (namely Gounod’s) are no longer heard, the author superficially examines some specific compositions. He points to Faust, Sapho, Mireille, and the choruses for Ponsard’s Ulysse as being original and representative of Gounod’s genius as a composer. These works, he notes, come from the period of 1850 to 1870, which was the most “fruitful” of Gounod’s productivity. It was during this time that he composed some of his most popular works and was arguably at the height of his fame and creative powers. One of the disappointing aspects of this essay is the lack of intense investigation into

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Gounod’s influence; the title leaves the reader unfulfilled. Only briefly does he mention that the composer influenced Bizet, Saint-Saëns, and Massenet. However, the author does not give specific examples of this influence, neither does he point to any precise techniques or musical elements that demonstrate this influence. In general, given the date of its publication, and the tenor of the times, this appreciation of Gounod’s music is appropriate. Hervey observes that the composer was not “revolutionary” and that “to restore rather than to destroy was his aim.” Gounod, the author believed, “spoke a new language … one of alluring softness and penetrating charm … He does not tickle the ear with trivial tunes … or startle their senses with violent outbursts.” 104. Hillemacher, Paul. “Charles Gounod.” In Les Musiciens Célébres vol. 1. Paris: H. Laurens, 1906. 126 p. ML385.M8 vol. 1. This biographical study proceeds in a chronological fashion with much attention given to Gounod’s dramatic and religious works. The volume is not analytical and most attempts to explore specific musical compositions are rather superficial; however, the author often quotes at length from other sources, most often contemporary journals, but sadly without proper citations. In many ways this is a very complimentary appreciation of Gounod’s music and life and actually quite a thorough account, relying heavily upon the composer’s own Autobiographical Reminiscences (#202 below) for information on Gounod’s youth and early career. The author also consulted the memoirs of Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel, Camille SaintSaëns’s writings, and the somewhat dubious accounts composed by Georgina Weldon (#80–82 below) in addition to many newspaper and journal articles. While Hillemacher devotes most of his study to the operas of Gounod (especially Faust), he does mention the Messe solennelle de Ste. Cécile and the two oratorios, The Redemption and Mors et Vita, but neglects other important repertories such as the songs and (for the day) the piano music. Interestingly, he does not shy away from the affaire Weldon but rather addresses it with candor, though not completely. The author devotes some of his final pages to Gounod’s thoughts on the music of Wagner. The Frenchman’s complimentary assessment of his colleague’s orchestration and “sumptuousness of spirit” is tempered by his comments that Wagner’s constant use of “luxurious sonorities” add a “heaviness and monotony” to his music. Unfortunately, Gounod’s lengthy quotes pertaining to Wagner are not cited by the author. In conclusion Hillemacher finds Gounod’s music to be of a distinctly feminine character and that—as defined by Saint-Saëns—Gounod possesses two distinct personalities, Christian and pagan. Nevertheless, he feels that Gounod has attained a tangible and lasting glory. In general, this is a fine appreciation of the composer with an admirable attempt to use primary sources; however, a more analytical approach would have added to the value and impact of the study.

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105. La Montagne, Denis Havard de. Les Gounod, derniers fourbisseurs du Roi. Association Elisabeth Havard de la Montagne: Bulletin 9 (1983): 9–17. The author has not been able to examine this source; however, the patrimony of Gounod’s father, whose ancestor was sword maker to the king and who lived in rooms at the Louvre, has been documented elsewhere. This source will no doubt offer a more detailed explanation. 106. Lassus Saint-Geniès de, Jacques et Jean. Gounod et son Temps. Paris: Fontenay-le-Comte, 1965. 35 p. ML410G.74L33. This brief biographical sketch of Gounod includes a number of interesting and valuable artworks (drawings, reproductions of photographs, and facsimiles of manuscript pages), in addition to a vivid account of the composer’s life. Heavily relying upon Gounod’s own writings (especially his Mémoires), this study also includes lengthy quotations from numerous other primary sources, which the authors unfortunately fail to cite. Despite the reliance upon much well-known material, there are some interesting details not found elsewhere, including the fact that Gounod’s mother (in her youth) studied at the Conservatory with Louis Adam (Adolphe Adam’s father), and that she was also an “excellent comedienne.” From the biographic material given here on Gounod’s mother, the reader comes away with the impression that she was a strong and courageous woman, who after her husband’s death, carried on admirably raising her two sons single-handedly. The authors give a vivid account of the respect and admiration that Gounod and his brother Urbain (the architect who died young) had for their mother. This biography includes a discussion of Gounod’s early life as a composer—his Prix de Rome years, and his early attempts at a career in the theater. A separate section of the book explores the oftentold influence of his sojourn in Italy; however, it is at this point that the purely biographical information ceases. After this, the remainder of the study (which is approximately half of the book) focuses on the composer’s thoughts about music, his style and inspiration, his musical materials, how Gounod “understood” composers of his time, the diversity of his “gifts,” and the final section deals with the “truth of expression and the purity of inspiration—the strong spiritual convictions of Gounod.” While some of these topics sound interesting, the authors really only scratch the surface of the subject matter. That is not to say, however, that the information contained in each section is not worthwhile. To the contrary, there is some fine material presented, and some unique accounts shared with the reader. For example, there is a quote from a letter of Henri Busser, which indicates that Henri Dutilleux was influenced by Gounod. Also, the authors believe that Gounod and Liszt got along so well (despite their stylistic differences) because they shared a natural mysticism which bound them together. Fauré is quoted as saying that in his opera Pénélope one will find “traces

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of his tenderness for Sapho and the choruses from Ulysses.” (This is an instance where the authors do not cite their source!) Interestingly, the authors indicate that Gounod “appreciated” Debussy’s cantata L’Enfant prodigue despite the instances of what the composer considered “audacities” which were “not legitimate.” Nevertheless Debussy and Gounod were quite cordial and were often in contact at the meetings of the Société La Concordia. In the litany of composers whom Gounod affected and influenced, the authors list the usual suspects (Bizet, Saint-Saëns, Massenet, and Fauré); however, they go further and cite Ravel, Charpentier, Satie, Milhaud, and even Igor Stravinsky. Unfortunately, while this may indeed be true, the authors do not offer any examples of this. While this biographical study contains much well-known information on the composer, it does indeed add some valuable information and provide the reader with points of departure for further study. Again, the lack of citations is troublesome and unfortunate. With this said, the authors are none other than Gounod’s daughter and son-in-law, the Baron and Baroness de Lassus Saint-Geniès. 107. Margoni, Alain. En entendant Gounod. Paris: Les Belles Lettres Archimbaud, 1995. 64 p. ML410.G711 M3. ISBN 2251440755. This essay is a very fine appreciation and vindication of Gounod written just over 100 years after the composer’s death. The author explores the unique qualities of the composer’s melodic, harmonic, and formal characteristics. Margoni first analyzes Gounod’s chanson, “Venise,” with special attention to these musical elements, noting that the composer employs “figuralisme d’ambiance” to capture the character of the poetry. Also, he points to the subtle harmonic language, which combines modality and tonality with colorful twists of the Neapolitan sixth chord. The author also examines Gounod use of counterpoint in both vocal and instrumental music. After the analysis of “Venise,” Margoni turns his attention to Gounod’s vocal style which he believes is “perfect” for three reasons: first, Gounod was himself a singer (albeit amateur), so he was able to know what the voice could do; second, because of this, he took special care with the tessitura and range of the voice types, not to mention using the more subtle aspects of the “voix mixte,” “voix mi-poitrine,” and “mi-tête;” finally, he was also able to successfully set the French language with its subtle and unique inflections and accents. As a melodist the author compares Gounod to Mozart because of his “invention, rhythmic richness, nature, grace and distinction.” There exists also a “touching simplicity,”” an “innocence of presentation,” and a “theatrical emotion” in many of his arias, especially “O ma lyre immortelle” from Sapho. In regard to Gounod’s sacred music, the author identifies five “principal materials of very diverse textures” that the composer uses and intermingles. They are: the use of the “most calm” arias and ensembles; passages that are “ very white,” that is to say they possess a musical purity à la Palestrina; learned

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide or academic pieces, such as fugues; pieces that are fiery and theatrical; and an expression of a “profound faith” that uses a chromatic language and tenderness. Margoni also offers three hypotheses to explain Gounod’s often “anemic” sacred musical style: the lack of time when composing; the necessity of adapting the work to the taste of its performer; or that this was his idea of sacred art. After some explanation, the author believes that this sometime stagnant or severe style was actually Gounod’s interpretation of a sacred musical style influenced by Palestrina. This is a well-organized and informative examination of Gounod’s musical style in which the author clearly makes the case for a reappraisal of the composer’s music. It is a welcome addition to contemporary scholarship on this neglected figure.

108. Marix-Spire, Therese. “Gounod and his First Interpreter, Pauline Viardot.” Musical Quarterly 31 (1945): 193–211; 299–317. http://www. jstor.org/stable/739509 (part 1) and http://www.jstor.org/stable/739164 (part 2) (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers of JSTOR only. This article begins with a discussion of Gounod’s time at the Villa Medici where he began his friendship with Pauline Viardot, Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel, and Ivan Turgenev. It examines how Viardot encouraged him and supported his efforts to compose his opera Sapho for her. The article contains many letters of Viardot, Gounod, George Sand, and others that document their friendship and the genesis of the opera. These letters—many of which are unpublished (according to the author)—offer important insights into their relationships with each other. There is also documentation in these letters of an ill-fated collaboration between George Sand and Gounod on a project about Molière. The second installment of the article explains, through various letters, the break up of Gounod’s friendship with Viardot. The composer married without having spoken to Pauline and, adding insult to injury, cancelled a celebratory dinner held in his and his bride’s honor given by Pauline. In addition to this, he returned Viardot’s wedding gift to his wife, Anna. All this Gounod did because of gossip about his relationship with Pauline. Marix-Spire begs the question of why Gounod actually did this. Was it cowardice, which would rear its head again in the affaire Weldon in the 1870s, or did he merely use his friendship with the Viardots to further his own career, and now that he had become established and her voice was failing, he had no further use for them? Whatever the reason—and possibly a combination of both—they did reconcile in 1870. However, their relationship was never the same. It was during the time of his initial friendship with Viardot, Turgenev, and Sand that Gounod came into his own and established himself as a composer of theater music, not only with the qualified success of Sapho, but with the commission of incidental music for Ulysse. Without her friendship and support, who knows what may or may not have happened? This

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article is extremely important not only because it chronicles these relationships, but also because of the wealth of primary source materials it uses in doing so. 109. Ménétrier, Jean-Alexandre. “Le Diable et le Bon Dieu, ou l’étrange vie de l’Abbé Gounod.” L’avant-scène opera 41 (1982): 4–11. This article addresses the duality of Gounod’s career and personality— that of the sacred and the profane. The author divides the composer’s career into three basic periods: 1818 to 1839 (the Restoration and the July Monarchy); 1852–1870, his theatrical career during the Second Empire; and his old age, 1875 –1893. He also believes that there are two transitional periods, 1840–1851 and 1870–1874, that are more difficult to define. The author divides the article into several sections beginning with the Musicien romain, which deals with his studies in Roman and his friendships with Felix and Fanny Mendelssohn, Pauline Viardot, and the priest Charles Gay who was instrumental in Gounod’s religious mania. The second section of the article deals with Gounod’s flirtation with the religious life, and juxtaposes his austere religious music with his more charming song repertory. The next section of the article deals with the composer’s theatrical debut and addresses Sapho (written for Viardot), his oratorio L’ange et Tobie, the opera La nonne sanglante, his famous St. Cecilia Mass, and his two symphonies. The following section deals with his collaboration with the Théâtre Lyrique, which began in 1858. During this time he was also the director of the Orphéons and later the inspector of the teaching of singing. The opera Faust receives its own section in the article that follows, and the author mentions La reine de Saba and Mireille. The next portion of the article discusses two antithetical works, Roméo et Juliette and his religious opera Polyeucte, the latter of which the author believes was partially born of a “new mystic crisis.” This section is followed by one entitled Tristesse—in which is discussed Gounod’s move to England during the Franco–Prussian War of 1870 and his music associated with that time, especially the little-known A la frontière and the better-known Gallia which gave voice and song to the national lament of France. After this the author segues into the next section, which deals with Gounod’s relationship with Georgina Weldon—his “ardent priestess”— whom he met in London and whose relationship with him caused much scandal. The author cites critic Oscar Comettant who described their home, Tavistock House, as a “temple of music where Gounod was God, Mrs. Weldon was the ardent priestess, and Mr. Weldon was apostle.” The final portion of the article—Pater seraphicus—is dedicated to Gounod’s later years and his retirement. He discusses his opera Cinq-Mars, Le Tribut de Zamora, and his last Masses. This article mentions various compositions in their relationship to the composer’s biography, but unfortunately does not offer any substantial analysis of any of them. However, the author makes an interesting and important point that

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide Gounod was a complex musical figure, and while many people may remember him today as the composer of Faust or of sentimental sacred music, his career was really a combination of the two, and hence he was a dichotomy.

110. Mirabeau, Octave. “César Franck et Monsieur Gounod.” In Des artistes, p. 265–272. Paris: Flammarion, 1924. 300 p. This is an interesting but brief account of Gounod’s reaction to and criticism of a performance of Franck’s Rédemption in 1873 at a concert given by Colonne. The author—a supporter of Franck—recounts that Gounod was extremely hostile to the music from the very beginning. The composer is quoted as having said, “What is this? But this is not music … Madness, madness, madness … .where are we going?” Mirabeau indicates that this attitude toward Franck and his music continued for 23 years thanks to Gounod. However, audiences have now come to appreciate Franck, whom the author considers “more inspired than Berlioz.” This article originally appeared in the December 27, 1896 edition of Le Journal—three years after Gounod’s death. The article following below, “Ce que l’on écrit” is a response to the “scandal” this article apparently caused. 111. Mirabeau, Octave. “Ce que l’on écrit … ” In Des artistes, p. 273–281. Paris: Flammarion, 1924. 300 p. This article—a response to the supposed “scandal” caused by the article above (see item #110) —originally appeared in the January 17, 1897 edition of Le Journal. The editor of the journal and the author himself received letters complaining about the “mistreatment” of M. Gounod and the “denial of his genius,” which was an “act of unqualified irreverence” and “a crime.” One writer to Mirabeau indicated that Gounod’s music was not only “of a divine essence, but also therapeutic.” This man, whom doctors had given up on ten years previously, played “L’ange pur” (from Faust) every day and, thanks to this “miraculous hygiene” he is still alive! However, Mirabeau does not retract his comments; rather, he continues to point out that Gounod is “not the only genius.” The author points to Gounod’s musical weaknesses including his “vulgarity” and the “poverty of his inspiration.” In closing, the author excuses himself as being “a poet” and not a “music critic.” 112. Musée municipal. Hommage à Charles Gounod. Saint-Cloud: Musée municipal, 1993. 130 p. 780.74. The author has not been able to examine this source; however, given Gounod’s relationship with the town of Saint-Cloud, the fact that he owned a home there and was titular organist at the parish church, this museum catalog would be an important source for anyone seriously studying the composer.

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113. Parys, Henry A. Charles Gounod. Editions de la Nouvelle Revue Belgique, 1946. 90 p. ML410.G7 P37. This brief account of the life and music of Gounod is from the Belgian point of view. The author divides the study into sections, which address Gounod’s biography (very brief and cursory); his career as a composer of dramatic music; his career as a composer of sacred music (again rather brief); accounts of Gounod’s character and personality (“Gounod intime”); and it ends with a very succinct account of Gounod in Belgium. Before relating the composer’s biographical information, the author offers a concise introduction to Gounod, claiming that while he might not be the most important composer of his time, he is still an important figure in the history of French music. Gounod is a “popular” composer primarily because his music is accessible, “clear” and “charming.” He speaks simply and with “wisdom” to the “complicated” and “anxious souls of today.” His music and musical style consist of two main characteristics: “taste and public desire.” Gounod’s taste is “charme” while the public need is for “clarity.” This is what makes him popular, but despite the public attraction to his music, Gounod is “never vulgar.” According to Parys, “from 1860 to 1880 Gounod was the uncontestable leader of the French school.” The author seems to gloss over the composer’s biography, deciding to spend more time with his discussion of Gounod as an opera composer. In this chapter (number 3), Parys indicates that the composer’s music must be judged in the light of the time in which it was written. And during this time he was an innovator. Within this chapter the author examines—very superficially—a number of Gounod’s operas, pointing to specific features that were responsible for the work’s failure or success. As expected, he dedicates most of this chapter to Faust and includes a rather lengthy explanation of other composers who were inspired by this story (Berlioz, Liszt, Boïto, Wagner, etc.) Parys also mentions several sections of the libretto by Barbier and Carré that were cut by Gounod—a duet in the first scene between Faust and Walter (his student), and a trio between Faust, Mephistopheles, and Marguerite at the moment of Mephestopheles’s apparition. He also reproduces quotes from contemporary reviews of the opening night found in Revue des Deux Mondes, Figaro, and Journal des Débats. Another interesting aspect of this chapter is a lengthy quote from Ernest Van Dyck, a singer whom Gounod encouraged and who sang in the composer’s Belgian performance of Polyeucte. (Unfortunately, the author does not cite this quote.) Other operas upon which the author touches include La Reine de Saba, Mirielle, and Roméo et Juliette. However, his commentary is uneven in its insight. The brief chapter—the fourth—on Gounod’s sacred music does not analyze or explore any specific compositions, but rather pronounces the judgment that in posterity Gounod will be remembered most for his religious music (a verdict made by Saint-Saëns at his funeral!) The author feels that his sacred music is marked by “the mystical aspirations of

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide his character” that enabled him to “excel in this elevated art form” and infuse church music “with new life” during this time. His Masses and oratorios were not composed from an organist’s point of view, but by a “total musician” and this is what gives them credibility and substance. The fifth chapter offers a glimpse of Gounod as a person. The author shares some anecdotes that reflect the composer’s kindness and gentleness of spirit, and his generosity to other musicians. Included here is a lengthy quote from Veuillot to his sister describing Gounod as: “charming … he knows a hundred funny stories. He is a good actor; he knows Mozart, Beethoven and many others by heart; he is full of great ideas that he produces with a great goodness of expression.” The author concludes this chapter with a lengthy excerpt from Debussy, which, although not identified, comes from Musica of July 1906. In this laudatory article, Debussy praises Gounod for not succumbing to Wagner’s influence and for not being a part of any “school.” (See #70 above for an analysis of this article.) In closing the author devotes the final chapter to Gounod’s appearance in Belgium during his selfimposed exile in England. Parys takes this information from Gevaert’s remembrance of the event. The author includes a listing of the dramatic works of Gounod at the end of the volume and an index of names mentioned throughout the text. While this short monograph does offer some interesting information, it is by no means an exemplar source. Unfortunately, there are many quotes, anecdotes, and excerpts from others throughout the book that are not cited properly.

114. Pitrou, Robert. “Gounod.” In De Gounod à Debussy, p. 13–22. Paris: Éditions Albin Michel, 1957. 225 p. ML390.P555. This is a fine appreciation of Gounod as a composer of melody, in which the author credits the composer with being the foundation of French modern melodists. “A fluent, graceful melody, sometimes a little delicate” is what the author believes first comes to mind when one thinks of Gounod. He is not the overbearing presence of a Wagner or Liszt, but he was nevertheless “a principal stage in the artistic evolution of the nineteenth century.” The author credits Gound with finding “the true French song,” unlike the German Lied or the Italian song, full of virtuosity, but rather a “sung speech.” Gounod’s ability to musically declare a poetic text has often been mentioned as one of his most unique musical gifts, and this is why so many feel that his operatic works (even those less popular) are so successful. The author finds this ability in Gounod’s music as early as the 1840s during his time in Italy on the Prix de Rome. In addition to this innate gift for melody, Pitrou believes that the composer likewise had the ability “par excellence” to sing of love, whether it was tragic, juvenile, tender, fervent, secular, or sacred. His music is full of this. Roméo et Juliette is described as a “magnificent hymn of Shakespeare to human love,” while the oratorio La Rédemption and the opera Polyeucte contain passages of religious love and a tenderness born out of faith. As others have noted,

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Gounod’s sacred music is marked by a “Palestrianian purity” which stamps it as an art form that is “strictly liturgical.” In closing, the author points to contemporary composers—Poulenc, Henry Sauguet, Max Jacobs, and George Auric—who are “attached to the father of Philémon and Roméo.” These composers, he believes, “cherish in him [Gounod] the melodist, the man of unique tonality, the man that loves women and sings of love in exquisite accents, the musician of tenderness.” Gounod, to Pitrou, “appears to be some sort of river god from which gushes, in resplendent waves, modern melody.” 115. Poincaré, Raymond. “Éloge de Gounod.” In Idées contemporaines p. 108–111. Paris: Bibliothèque Charpentier, 1906. DC385.A65. This is the address given in the name of the French government at Gounod’s funeral, October 27, 1893. The composer is extolled for being the most noble and pure of French artists, exhibiting the qualities of taste, charm, and nature. He feared excess and avoided gaudiness. Gounod is praised for his melodic gift and his ability to mix “ancient beauty with Christian charity.” He sang his faith just as he sang of love. As a man, Gounod displayed the same artistic qualities. He is admired not only for being a great national artist, but also for his patriotism as demonstrated during the Franco–Prussian war in his cantata Gallia. In closing the author says: “He elevated our hearts with the same movement, he transported our spirits with the same breath, and he gave to two friendly peoples (England and France), the day after his death, the clear vision of his immortality.” The author mentions a few of his compositions—Requiem, Mors et Vita, Roméo, Le médecin malgré lui, Mireille, and of course Faust—but only in passing, as examples of his most famous works. 116. Poupet, Michel. “Gounod et Bizet.” L’avant-scène opera 41 (1982): 108–117. This is an interesting article that investigates the relationship between the two composers, concentrating upon Gounod’s musical influence upon the younger Bizet. To this end, Poupet investigates the work that Bizet did for Gounod, such as transcribing his choruses from Ulysses and the arrangement of Gounod’s first symphony (in D major) for piano four hands. According to the author, Bizet’s intimate knowledge of this music manifests itself in his own similar compositions: the incidental music for L’Arlésienne and his only symphony from 1855, the same year as his transcription of Gounod’s symphony. The latter work clearly shows both Gounod’s and consequently Bizet’s indebtedness to the Viennese Classical School. Poupet also mentions Bizet’s work as rehearsal director for Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette in 1872 and 1873. He also finds Gounod’s influence upon Bizet’s Te Deum composed in 1858, citing that the younger composer had always admired his senior’s sacred music. In general, Poupet identifies two main aspects of Gounod’s influence on the

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide music of Bizet: simple, elegant melodic writing, and a taste for a more grandiloquent style, especially in his operatic works. This article admirably explores a rather unique and complex relationship that has been addressed elsewhere by Mina Curtiss (see item #19) and Howard Shanat (see item #196). Poupet draws upon a number of primary sources, including letters, as well as Mina Curtiss’s book on Bizet, examined above.

117. Prod’homme, J. –G. and A. Dandelot. Gounod: sa vie et ses oeuvres d’après des documents inédits, 1911. Geneva: Minkoff Reprint, 1973. 284 p. ML410.G7.P96. ISBN 2826600516. This two-volume study is the most complete and thorough study of the composer following his death. Prod’homme explains that he and Dandelot consulted with those who knew Gounod, such as Charles Malherbe, Georgina Weldon, and M. Gazier (conservator of the library), as well as other scholars and writers on the composer. Prod’homme explains that, to date, there were only three biographies of value, less than that in England, and in Germany only one; therefore, a new, more complete work is needed. This study draws upon many primary sources, which is unique for the time, including contemporary journal articles and correspondence. The first volume offers a rather extensive exploration of Gounod’s family background, including his grandfather and father. The composer’s early biography follows, including his Prix de Rome studies, his return to France, and his first attempts at opera. The volume concludes with the composition of Faust. Some interesting appendices are included: documents regarding his grandfather’s and father’s positions, documents (baptismal and marriage certificates) pertaining to his parents, and the marriage certificate of his brother, Urbain. Also included is an essay delivered by Spontini to the Academie royale des Beaux Arts de l’Institut de France concerning Gounod, and Gounod’s introduction to the publication of Berlioz’s letters. The second volume of the study explores Gounod’s life and career from 1860 until his death in 1893. Prod’homme addresses Gounod and Wagner, his travels to Italy and Provence, the composition of Mireille and Roméo et Juliette, Gounod and the affaire Weldon, his oratorios, and the last decades of his life. The authors employ primary sources in their discussions of these and other topics. Prod’homme and Dandelot consulted the composer’s Autobiographical Reminiscences, and several others of his articles, as well as Pagnerre’s biography of 1890, Hillemacher’s biography of 1906, Paul Voss’s 1895 monograph on the composer, and Georgina Weldon’s biographical materials, among many other items. In many ways this study is ground-breaking in its own way, not only because of the use of primary sources, but because of the desire on the part of the authors to treat the subject completely, with care and attention to detail, and because they recognized the importance of definitive biographical research. This study must be consulted by anyone desiring to study the composer and his career seriously; it is a source to be reckoned with.

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118. Saint-Saëns, Camille. Portraits et Souvenirs. Paris: Société d’Édition Artistiques, 1899. 246 p. ML410.S15.A33. In this collection the composer dedicates a lengthy article to his friend and mentor, which discusses Gounod’s career and life. He mentions the early operatic works such as Sapho and La nonne sanglante, and gives special emphasis to Faust. Saint-Saëns offers personal recollections from his relationship with the composer as well as insights into the creation and history of various works. He also includes an examination of Gounod’s sacred works including the St. Cecilia Mass, Redemption, and Mors et vita. The musical discussions are descriptive rather than analytical, and while SaintSaëns gives a fine explanation of Gounod’s career, there is no detailed biographical information. 119. Saint-Saëns, Camille. Charles Gounod et le Don Juan de Mozart. Paris: Ollendorff, 1894, 40 p. ML410.G7S2. Published one year after the death of Gounod, this brief monograph was written, according to the author himself, to inspire the reader to read Gounod’s own book on Mozart’s Don Giovanni written in 1890. SaintSaëns recounts the famous story of how he was presented with a beautiful leather-bound volume of the opera when he was only a child, and how special the opera was to both him and Gounod. Containing many quotes from Gounod’s book, Saint-Saëns’s short exposé on occasion takes issue with his friend’s interpretation, notably with the use of melismas in Donna Anna’s aria, “Or sai che l’onore.” Gounod praised the orchestration of this aria while, as Saint-Saëns points out, Berlioz thought that the response of the oboe and bassoon to Donna Anna’s intense melody was “almost comic.” This small volume is more than just an appreciation of both Gounod’s monograph and Mozart’s score, it also offers insights into Saint-Saëns’s musical aesthetic. The “quest for effect” is absent from the score. Both composers believe that Mozart’s music “complements” the text rather than overpowers it. Saint-Saëns believed that in studying the works of Mozart one will find a “complete system, perfectly structured … He spoke the language of his day, but he spoke it better than the others.” 120. Segond, André. Charles Gounod (1818–1893): Biographie. Paris: Empreinte Séguier, 2003. 215 p. ML410.G7 S441. ISBN 2840403659. The most recent large-scale biography on Gounod in any language, this work is a fine appreciation of the composer’s life and career. While it is not what some might consider scholarly or analytical, it is nevertheless a welcome addition to the paucity of contemporary literature on Gounod. The first chapter, dealing with the “birth” of the composer’s vocation, draws heavily upon Gounod’s own writing on the subject in his Memoires, as does the following chapter which explores his time in Rome at the Villa Medici. The biography proceeds in a chronological fashion, mentioning selected important works composed during various stages of Gounod’s career, the people

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide whom he befriended, and judgments made regarding his art. Special attention is given to the more famous operas (Faust, Mireille), his opus of sacred music, and the author does not shy away from Gounod’s relationship with Georgina Weldon. Segond does not provide detailed analyses of Gounod’s music, nor does he make sweeping pronouncements about the composer’s musical style and his philosophy of music and life, nor does he provide an examination of Gounod’s posthumous musical reputation. However, the author admirably collates and organizes an interesting and important biography from the valuable primary and secondary source materials available. Also included are: a catalogue of the composer’s music (organized by genre), a selected videography and discography, and an appendix of Gounod’s principal stage works, including a brief synopsis and list of characters for each. Found throughout the volume are various pictures—photos, drawings, and reproductions of opera posters—many of which are unique and all of which help to bring the story of Gounod more vividly to life.

121. Simon, Jules. Figures et croquis. Paris: Flammarion, 1909. 348 p. 920.044Si5f. This very brief entry comes in a volume in which the author discusses great men, many of whom he has known. Included are: Thiers, Gambetta, General MacMahon, Ernest Picard, Chateaubriand, Lamennais, Louis Blanc, Pasteur, and Ambroise Thomas. Simon indicates from the beginning that he and Gounod were intimate friends, “living together like two brothers, and he [Gounod] came each year to pass many weeks at my house near the sea.” Despite this closeness and the regularity of visits, Simon’s account of Gounod the man and composer is surprising and even disappointing in its brevity. With that stated, the author believes that Gounod was loved not only by those who knew him, but also by those who knew his music. That, Simon believed, was the glory of his genius: “humanity sang in his music with its joys and its sorrows.” He describes Gounod as a “lover” of all that was beautiful, unable to resist divine love or human love. This was made easy because the composer “floated between the cloister and the world, between Saint Paul and Mozart.” Simon felt that Gounod “put some Saint Paul in his operas and some Mozart in his oratorios.” The author believes that the famous painting by Elie Delaunay of Gounod in profile, with the score of Mozart’s Don Giovanni, shows that “the soul of the poet is alive” as he holds Mozart’s score as if it were the Bible. Despite Gounod’s death during the height of Wagner’s popularity, Simon (who admittedly admires Wagner, too) believes that the “true musician will always be the musician that one sings of.” 122. Thibault, Geneviève. Collection musicale M. Pincherle dont la vente aux enchères publiques aura lieu: Hôtel Drouot Salle no. 1, 3–5 mars 1975. The author has not been able to examine this source. However, it was mentioned in Samuel W. Parnes’s dissertation on the piano music of Gounod

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(see item #195 below). This source helps to trace and verify some of the piano pieces by the composer that have been mentioned elsewhere in Gounod literature. 123. Tiersot, Julien. “Charles Gounod a Centennial Tribute.” Musical Quarterly 4 (1918): 409–439. http://www.jstor.org/stable/909303 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. This is a brief biography described by the author as a “rapid survey … from a distant and commanding point of view” which will “scan simultaneously the life of the man, the career of the artist and the productions of the musician.” To this end, the author traces Gounod’s academic and musical education, as well as the musical influence of his mother. He identifies people and music that left important impressions upon the young composer, namely, Mozart, Fanny Hensel, Pauline Viardot, Bach, and his teacher, Leseur, not to mention his time in Italy during the Prix de Rome days. Tiersot believes some of Gounod’s best music to be Rédemption, Mors et Vita, Faust, and Gallia. In this article the author recognizes the duality of Gounod’s personality—at once religious and mystical, as well as secular and passionate. He gives important information about the composer’s flirtation with taking holy orders, and a detailed account of the composition of Mirielle. Tiersot finds Gounod to be a truly individual composer, resisting both German and Italian styles, and simultaneously shaping a new generation of French composers, most notably Bizet, SaintSaëns, and Massenet. This is a fine appreciation of the composer that confirms much of his biography that is already known from other sources such as his Mémoires d’une artiste. 124. Tolhurst, Henry. Gounod. London: George Bell & Sons, 1904. 55p. ML410.G7T65. This very brief volume is divided into six sections: a biographical sketch, a discussion of Gounod’s works, an exploration of his character, an analysis of The Redemption, a list of works, and an extremely short list of books about Gounod, one of which is the composer’s own Autobiographical Reminiscences in English translation. While generally informative, Tolhurst draws a great deal from Gounod’s autobiography for his discussion of the composer’s life without citation. The chapter on Gounod’s works is cursory, and concentrates primarily upon listing some of the more famous operatic works with only descriptive analysis and brief commentary at times. The author includes some lengthy quotes of reviews and criticism from English journals (the Musical World and the Athenaeum for example) throughout the essay. Tolhurst does not shrink from mentioning Gounod’s encounter with Georgina Weldon, and he states that this relationship was much to the composer’s “misfortune” for Weldon “unfortunately set him against people who might have helped him to gain the recognition his genius deserved.” The chapter on Gounod’s character is interesting, and the author

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide sums up the man and his music in three words: love, serenity, and youth; and, while Tolhurst explains with examples what is meant by love and serenity, he neglects to explain what he means by youth. He continues that not since Rameau had there been such a great composer in France, although he does recognize both Berlioz and Auber (the former dying too young.) Tolhurst admits the bifurcation in Gounod’s music and personality: the sacred versus the secular. In the personal vein, the author describes Gounod as a truly gentle and loveable man whose music was “always written with absolute sincerity and honesty … it came from his heart, it was his very self.” Perhaps this is why his musical talent was at times uneven; not all of his music was profound or remarkable. The chapter dedicated to The Redemption offers little insight into the composition. Rather it is a descriptive appreciation of the work that offers no in-depth analysis. Actually, some of the information given can also be found in the preface to the Novello score of the work and was written by Gounod himself. It is unique that the author would choose this composition rather than Faust or Roméo et Juliette for special attention; however, it must be remembered that not only was this one of the more recent compositions of Gounod (from ca. 1882), but it was also very popular in England, and therefore perhaps a more familiar and celebrated work to discuss for the audience of his monograph. It is clear that Tolhurst drew a great deal of information from the composer’s own Autobiographical Reminiscences, but also from Anne Marie de Bouvet’s nineteenth-century monograph on Gounod (see above.)

125. Wright, Lesley. “Gounod and Bizet: A Study in Musical Paternity.” The Journal of Musicological Research 13, no. 1–2 (1993): 31–48. ISSN 0141–1896. The author traces and documents the friendship and professional relationship of the two composers beginning in the early 1850s. Bizet’s work as a copyist and transcriber and arranger of Gounod’s music, in addition to his studies with him, influenced the young composer. Wright points to some very specific examples. Bizet’s Symphony in C was modeled on Gounod’s First Symphony in D, and elements in both Les pêcheurs de perles and Carmen show traces of this influence. The author identifies accompaniment patterns in Les pêcheurs de perles borrowed from Act I of Gounod’s Sapho, as well as the use of the rosalia (a sequential device) from Faust appearing in Act III of Carmen. There are likewise similarities in both melodic and vocal styles that were identified by contemporary critics. Despite strained relations at times documented by Wright, Bizet recognized the debt he owed Gounod, not only musically, but professionally as well. The author draws heavily upon Gounod’s letters to Bizet housed in the Bibliothèque Nationale (see Appendix 1 of the present study.) This is a very fine exploration of stylistic influence that hopefully will be taken further.

Part 2

Specialized Studies Primary and Secondary Sources

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Opera and Vocal Music

126. André, Robert. “Gounod et Garnier. Corps écrit 20 (1986): 109–112. ISSN 07515022. In this article the author shares his strong personal feelings about Gounod’s opera Faust and the Opéra Garnier. For him he is unable to disassociate the two works of art. Gounod’s opera never “falls into the vulgarities of Massenet, it does not search any longer to raise itself up to the level of the grand inspiring text ... Schumann only left fragments, Berlioz the episodes and Boito hardly convinced.” However, Gounod’s offering in the author’s opinion “is the pleasant work of a man who knew his craft.” The beauty of the Garnier—its movement, rhythm of design, grand staircase, marble, and ornate decoration—is like Gounod’s opera. André states that “by its functional extravagance it fashions theater outside of the theatrical place.” The dancers on the exterior of the edifice remind the author of the final scene where Mephistopheles says: “Sortez ou vous êtes perdus. Le jour commence à poindre et mes chevaux frissonnent.” It is a fascinating idea that André conceives: the music of Gounod’s Faust is echoed in the architecture and style of the Garnier opera house. 127. Anon. De la musique religieuse: les messes de Gounod. Montréal: J. A. Plinquet, 1877. 16 p. ML3088. ISBN 0665017044. The author has been unable to examine this source. Despite its brevity, it is included in this study as it is one of the few essays on Gounod’s music written while the composer was still alive and it is dedicated specifically to his sacred music. Note that it was written prior to the composition of both large-scale oratorios (The Redemption and Mors et Vita), and even prior to the majority of his Mass settings. However, Gounod composed much sacred music—Mass settings and motets—during the period prior to the Franco–Prussian War. 128. Arenas, Erick. A Historical Study of Charles Gounod’s Messe solennelle de Saint Cécile. MA Thesis, University of Oregon, 2004. 180 p. ML410.G7.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide The author believes that the topic of church music has received little attention in the overall study of nineteenth-century music. Therefore, the aim of his thesis is to contribute to a better understanding of nineteenth-century sacred music by presenting an “historical study” of one of the prominent examples of the genre. The first two chapters explore the history of Mass composition in general, with a review of related literature, and a rather indepth examination of religion and music in nineteenth-century France, including special emphasis upon the post-revolutionary period of the Napoleonic Empire and the Bourbon Restoration. This thesis deals only with the subject up to the middle of the nineteenth century; it does not investigate the reign of Napoleon III during which time the Mass in question was actually composed and premiered. After a discussion of Gounod’s biography as it pertained to sacred music composition, the author turns his attention to a descriptive analysis of the individual Mass movements, providing an overview of the style and effect of the work. One vital thing missing from an otherwise solid piece of scholarship is an analysis of manuscript sources, one of which is in the Northwestern University Music Library (Evanston, IL). This would have been a most welcomed addition, and would have provided further insight into the work in question. The author does, however, devote a brief chapter to the premiere and reception of the Mass. Lamenting the lack of modern biographical studies on Gounod, the author challenges scholars to examine the “functional content” of liturgical music of the period and to further evaluate this music as an element of the religious ceremony of which it is so strongly a part. This thesis confirms that there is indeed more work to be accomplished, not only on the composer himself, but in the area of nineteenth-century religious practices, traditions, and the music itself, which was so vital to the ritual.

129. Aycock, Roy. “Faust: Literature as Opera.” The Opera Journal 14, no. 1 (1981): 23–32. The author provides a general overview of the settings of Goethe’s Faust story by Berlioz (not an opera per se, although the composer called it a “concert opera”), Gounod and Boïto. By his own admission the purpose of his article is “to examine the relationship between certain features of the libretti of those three operatic treatments of the Faust story and the presence, or absence, of those features in their literary counterparts.” After a very brief history of the Faust story from Johann Spies’s account in 1587 to Goethe’s nineteenth-century retelling, Aycock proceeds to take each of the three musical settings and succinctly explains what elements differ from Goethe’s model. He spends the most time with Gounod’s and Boito’s full-fledged operatic settings; however, he does not examine the music in any detail. The author limits his observations to identifying which parts of Goethe’s work (part 1 or part 2) are used in which opera, and how the characterizations of Faust, Marguerite, and Mephistopheles differ from Goethe’s characters. In closing, Aycock believes that:

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Goethe’s Faust belongs on an exclusive shelf devoted to mankind’s very greatest achievements. The fact that the operas of Berlioz, Gounod and Boito do not belong on that shelf ... has had not effect on their durability and is likely to be irrelevant to those who love those operas. This brief article provides an adequate introduction to the way in which these three composers used (or some may say even abused) Goethe’s retelling of the Faust legend. William Edward Grimm’s 1988 monograph on the Faust legend in music (see item #154) provides a complete examination of the subject. 130. Bailbé, Joseph-Marc. “Autour de la Reine de Saba: Nervel et Gounod.” In Regards sur l’opera du Ballet Comique de la Reine à l’Opéra de Pékin, 113–127. Paris: Presses Universitiares de France, 1976. 259 p. ML1700. 1.R43. In this chapter Bailbé explores the literary genesis of Gounod’s opera. He feels that the subject and consequently the character of the Queen of Sheba, Balkis, is a combination of the Biblical queen and the magical queen depicted in the Koran. He also used Charles Gleyre’s painting, La reine de Saba (1838) for the inspiration for his vision of Balkis and her “sumptuous cortege.” Bailbé also traces the transformation from Nerval’s interpretation to the libretto fashioned by Carré and Barbier. This the author accomplishes by examining the Barbier manuscripts in the Bibliothèque de l’Opéra. He finds out that Barbier precisely follows Nerval’s text from the Voyage en Orient in his libretto, thus trying to remain faithful to the author’s original intent. Bailbé’s article offers listings of the organization of the libretto and discusses this in light of Nerval’s concept of the story. Included in this discussion are excerpts from letters of Gounod to Bizet from 1860 and 1861 in which the composer discusses the early stages of the opera. The author also reproduces an undated letter from Gounod to Madame Vincent. In closing, Bailbé quotes at length from reviews of the opera written by Berlioz, Jouvin, Scudo (an enemy of Gounod), and d’Ortigue, all of which are less than complimentary, especially regarding the libretto. The author posits that, like Faust, La Reine de Saba “neglects the profundity” of its original author. Also, there is some richness of themes in the original that a libretto, no matter how well constructed, cannot capture. 131. Bailbé, Joseph-Marc. “Polyeucte: de Donizetti à Gounod.” Revue d’histoire litteraire de la France 85/5 (1985): 799–810. This interesting article addresses Donizetti and Gounod’s settings of the Corneille story of Polyeucte which originally appeared as a play in 1643. Corneille himself recognized that the play was more of a religious work which was “held together” by God and in which the “tenderness of human

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide love is made from an agreeable mixture with constancy of the divine.” Bailbé believes that the original play contains a great deal of lyricism synonymous with opera, which no doubt attracted composers to the subject matter. He likewise identifies three elements contained in both Gounod’s and Donizetti’s operas which find their inspiration in Corneille’s original work: a vibrant drama of humanity where religion is not just a episodic ornament; a work with an archeological reconstruction which rediscovers the picturesque past and the poetic traditions of France; and a profoundly religious work which ought to result in an intense communication between the musician and the public. The author continues with an exploration of the premiere of Donizetti’s version of Poliuto, which the Italian public (specifically in Naples) found to be “too religious.” Bailbé includes various letters of Adolphe Nourrit—the tenor for whom Donizetti composed the work—which attest to the relative failure of the opera in Italy. Nourrit laments that “Italy is not disposed to accept the grave and elevated emotions” of Poliuto: opera for the Italians is simply a distraction! In the French version—Les Martyrs—Scribe concentrated his efforts as librettist on the “conflicts between people, in an intimate atmosphere” rather than the heroic and classic spectacle inherent in the story. Gounod’s version of 1878 also received rather harsh criticism for the same reasons; many believed it to be too severe and religious, more of an oratorio than opera. Bailbé explored the notes of Jules Barbier (the librettist for Gounod) in the Bibliothèque national, and found where he used numerous passages of Corneille, though some were modified. Gounod’s own admitted style of the opera was to make a “bas-relief” of the story. However, as Bailbé and others have noted, the result was an admixture of dramatic opera and stagnant oratorio and while some of the music is quite lovely and effective, it remains a relatively uneven work on the whole.

132. Bennett, Joseph. “Dr. Hanslick and Gounod’s Redemption.” The Musical Times and Singing Class Circular, 25, no. 491 (Jan. 1, 1884): 10–12. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3356896 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers of JSTOR only. In this article the author takes issue with criticisms that Eduard Hanslick leveled against Gonod’s oratorio Le Rédemption upon its performance in Vienna. Bennett defends Gounod, because he realizes that Hanslick’s opinions are powerful and that his judgments would sway many people. The author respectfully disagrees with Hanslick on several points. First, he opposes Hanslick’s criticism that Gounod wrote the oratorio in an “excess of religious feeling” and more as a “devotee than as a musician.” Bennett also takes exception to the critic’s remark that an oratorio written for the concert hall belongs to a different category than other religious music: “the one” Hanslick states, “contributes to the worship of God; the other to the worship of Art.” Bennett believes that when treating a religious subject—whether for the concert hall or church—a composer must

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“be careful how he treads.” “He may not use this theme as a mere vehicle for his art.” When addressing religious subjects, the composer must not differentiate between concert hall and church, but rather he must proceed with a “strict regard for their essential character.” Hanslick criticizes the composer for treating his subject in a “simple and unostentatious” manner; however, in Bennett’s opinion, this makes Gounod worthy of praise and not reproach. Likewise Hanslick finds the choral sections to be monotonous and “for the most part they are sung in unison,” without any fugal or contrapuntal sections. This, upon examination of the score, is highly inaccurate. While there is indeed some unison singing in the choir (or sectional solos), there is actually a variety of choral texture throughout. Bennett believes that Hanslick’s comments are at times severe to the point of bitterness, and in the criticism “is found a sting, sharp and acrid beyond common.” Hanslick’s coup de grace is the comment that “with the measure of talent Gounod now possesses he can hardly hope to write a good opera; but he could certainly trust himself to compose an oratorio of such harmless respectability.” Bennett believes that the majority of those whom have heard the work would agree that it is “quite miraculous” for a composition that the critic dismisses with such an unworthy comment. 133. Berlioz, Hector. “Hector Berlioz: Opera Opinions.” The Opera Quarterly 19 (2003): 393–400. For Berlioz’s thoughts on aspects of Faust (and other operas), see item #3 for this in the first section, General Studies, above. 134. Berlioz, Hector. “Sapho. April 22, 1851.” In Les Musiciens et la Musique, p. 255–277. Edited by André Hallays. Paris: Calmann-Lévy, 1903. ML60.B469. Berlioz’s criticisms are just and “cold blooded.” He praises Gounod as a “young, gifted musician of precious qualities” with “noble and elevated” tendencies that “must be encouraged.” Berlioz continues to say that “the beautiful pages in his first opera are numerous enough and very remarkable” and that the critic is “obliged to recognize them as manifestations of great art.” With that said, Berlioz continues his critique, finding that in general the story of Sappho is not the stuff of dramatic music: there is no real dramatic action. The author calls the reader’s attention to various musical selections that he feels are worthy of praise; namely, the choruses which are “simple and grandiose;” the procession in Act I which is “full of virile harmony and nobility;” Sappho’s aria which was “managed with as much art as beauty;” and another solo of Sappho (her response to Phaon) which, because of its “sad and sweet blessing, breaks the heart.” On the whole, Berlioz unreservedly praises the third act of the opera. He feels that it is “musical, great, harmonious, well designed, very neat, of a correct expression ...” written with “colorful orchestration ... somber like a winter night, as radiant and sweet as a spring morning.” He reserves harsh words

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide for the quartet in the first act, and the duo and trio of the second act where “the passions of the principle roles explode with much force.” These sections “revolted” Berlioz; he found them “hideous insupportable, [and] horrible.” He warns Gounod that “the faithful expression of sentiment and passion is not exclusive to the musical form.” The “constant interjections of the orchestra” and the vocal writing which was “neither song nor recitative” all aided in making these sections fail. In closing, Berlioz states that if the first two acts were as beautiful as the third, then the opera would truly be a masterpiece. He praises the stage director and the orchestra for being “perfect” and “irreproachable” in their performance.

135. Berlioz, Hector. “Sapho. January 7, 1852.” In Les Musiciens et la Musique, p. 278–284. Edited by André Hallays. Paris: Calmann-Lévy, 1903. ML60.B469. In this rather brief review Berlioz offers a favorable critique of the reprise of Sapho in a new form. He indicates that the omission of the songs in the orgy scene did “not leave a great void in the score.” Beautiful music that remained included the “religious introduction,” the hymn “O puissant Jupiter,” the improvisation of Hero and Leander, the couplets “Puis-je oublier,” and the “great and beautiful” finale, “Merci Vénus.” The orchestration of the allegro section of the air “Non, je n’attends plus” was, according to Berlioz, “very charged.” In general this reprise pleased the critic, who in closing pronounced it “beautiful, but very beautiful, miraculously beautiful.” 136. Berlioz, Hector. “Faust. March 26, 1859.” In Les Musiciens et la Musique, p. 285–300. Edited by André Hallays. Paris: Calmann-Lévy, 1903. ML60.B469. Berlioz begins his critique of Faust with a lengthy investigation of other settings of the story—some well known and others hardly remembered today. He mentions Goethe, Marlowe, Spohr’s opera, overtures by Wagner and Lindpaintner, Liszt’s symphonic setting, and various “ballads, cantatas, sonatas, [and] variations for clarinet and for flute.” In his review of Gounod’s opera, Berlioz concentrates primarily upon “the numerous beauties” that are contained in the score. These include the overture which is a “sad dream;” the opening chorus of Act I; and the “natural” and “gracious” phrase of Marguerite, “Je ne suis demoiselle, ni belle.” The author is unreserved in his praise for Faust’s aria, “Salut, demure chaste et pure” which “touched” him greatly. He believes that this aria possesses “a beautiful feeling, very true and very profound.” The “Chanson du Roi de Thulé is “given a Gothic” flavor by its modality (written in the tonality of plainchant, he says), but the interruption of the short recitative section is “not sufficiently motivated” by the action. Berlioz is also complimentary of the quartet in the garden. The church scene—with the organ and religious chants mixed with Mephistopheles’s curses—is a

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“superiorly beautiful piece” and “grandiose.” He praises the singers for a fine performance, and indicates that this opera will be successful in the future. 137. Chastagnol, Alain. “Faust et Don Juan.” L’avant-scène opéra (1976): 58–61. The author examines four main reasons why he believes the stories of Faust and Don Juan are similar. The first is their “insatiable curiosity, the appetite for knowledge.” While this is more apparent in the Faust myth, the statue in the cemetery provokes Don Juan’s morbid curiosity. The second reason the two myths are similar is “the superiority of the strong spirit” which manifests itself in the desire for each character to be dominant. Related to this is the author’s third reason, which is “to show genius in the most essential fashion, in its tragic condition.” This is the tragic element of both stories—the downfall of Faust and Don Juan. The final similarity between both myths is the unfaithfulness in love. In closing the author believes that “Faust, like Don Juan, like Orpheus, like Christ, is a promethean man” and he further suggests that in music one must treat the legend of Faust like the Passion. This may seem odd on the surface; however, given the enormity of Goethe’s telling of the story, and the complexity of it, to truly set Faust as an opera there are those (Ernest Newmann among them) who believe that it would take a work of the magnitude of Wagner’s Ring Cycle to do the story justice. 138. Chiu, Pau-Min. Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet as Interpreted through the Music of Bellini, Marchetti, Gounod, and Barkworth: A Study in Adaptations. DMA dissertation, University of Maryland, 1999. 53 p. This brief study discusses, according to the author, the influence that shapes the libretti of the selected operas adapted from Shakespeare’s play. She also compares the “relationship between the play, the libretto, and the requirements of the operatic form” in order to “better understand, from the composers’ perspectives, the process of transforming a play into an opera.” Some of the most important and valuable information is contained in a series of four charts, which compare the number of characters retained in the four operas in question with the Shakespearean model; and other charts, which compare the elements of the love and death scenes in the play with those in the operas examined. It is interesting to note that Shakespeare’s play uses 18 characters, while Bellini’s uses the least, with only 5, Marchetti uses 9, Gounod retains 12, and Barkworth, who uses (with little alteration) Shakespeare’s original text, retains 16 of the original 18 characters. It is also interesting to note from the author’s work that of the four composers, Bellini’s opera cuts the most scenes from the original model (omitting the balcony scene and the marriage scene most conspicuously), and the other three opera settings retain all of the major love and death scenes more or less intact. Gounod interrupts the balcony scene

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide with a comic episode of other characters. Regarding Gounod’s opera, the author indicates that the four main musical numbers in the work (duets between Romeo and Juliet) correspond to the four major dialogues in the original play. However, despite this, the “action was not minimized by Barbier and Carré.” This study is the result of two lecture recitals given by the author, herself a soprano who sang the role of Juliet in the excerpts performed on the recitals. Therefore, the writing style is conversational and not too academic; however, Chiu captures the important points of the comparison, and presents the material in a straightforward manner. This study really scratches the surface of what more detailed, scholarly work could be done with this subject.

139. Conn, Elizabeth. The Metamorphosis of a Love Story: A Multidisciplinary Comparison of Romeo and Juliet. Thesis, Texas Tech University, 2001. 30 p. This work is an accessible introductory study to Gounod’s operatic setting and Bernstein’s setting for the musical theater stage. The author, while exploring some of the important elements of character and plot, does not examine the music of either composer very deeply. She does make some interesting observations, such as her judgment that Gounod’s opera is “romantic” while Bernstein’s setting is “truly sexual.” Conn briefly examines each of the characters from both works in comparison with Shakespeare’s originals, often quoting from the bard’s play to demonstrate how the composers—or more appropriately, the librettists—either change or remain true to the “original.” The promise of the title to be a “multi-disciplinary” study is misleading as the author only compares musical settings with the spoken play; perhaps “inter-disciplinary” would have been more appropriate. In general, this important topic needs a more detailed investigation, and it would have benefited from an author who is musically more knowledgeable. Nevertheless, this is a nice introduction to the topic. 140. Corballis, Richard. “Why the Devil gets all the good tunes: Shaw, Wagner, Mozart, Gounod, Bizet, Boito, and Stanford.” Shaw: The Annals of Bernard Shaw Studies 12: 165–180. A very fine and interesting cross-disciplinary study, the author examines how Shaw uses allusions to opera within certain of his plays—most notably Major Barbara, Back to Methuselah, Saint Joan, and Man and Superman—to create scenes, relate characters one to another, and as an inspiration for his own ideas of dramatic tension and movement. First the author explores Shaw’s fondness for Wagner and how traces of Siegfried, Alberic, and Brunhilde are reincarnated to a degree in Major Barbara and Man and Superman. Corballis likewise demonstrates how Shaw also depicts “supernatural personages” in an “old-fashioned” way, with allusions to Mozart (whom he greatly admired) and Gounod (whom he

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generally disliked) in Man and Superman. Here Shaw’s views of the music of Mozart and Gounod are transferred onto the principal characters of the debate in Hell. Shaw continues to draw parallels in this play with Bizet’s Carmen. In general, Shaw finds Mozart’s Don Giovanni to be the most perfect of operas, while, according to the author, Shaw found Gounod’s music to be “tedious” and “trivial” in comparison. Interestingly, there is no discussion of Gounod’s own monograph on Don Giovanni and whether or not Shaw was familiar with it and, if so, what he thought of the volume and Gounod’s thoughts on the work. This is a very fine addition to the literature on Gounod’s opera, and it is a paradigm of cross-disciplinary research. 141. Coudroy-Saghaï, Marie-Hélène. “Polyeucte de Charles Gounod: le regard et la presse.” In Le Théâtre Lyrique en France au XIXe siècle, p. 219–238. Metz: Editions Serpenoise, 1995. 353 p. ML1727.4T374. ISBN 2876921936. This article chronicles the genesis, performance and reception of Gounod’s opera Polyeucte, which he composed while in England staying with the Weldons. The author traces the work’s history through the periodic press that, while complimentary of Gounod’s achievement and the premiere performance in Paris, did not admit it as anything more than a succès d’éstime. The score of the opera became a weapon in the final throws of the affaire Weldon, and as Georgina held it captive in London, Gounod was forced to recompose the entire score from memory on the other side of the channel. The libretto was described by some critics as “sublime” stating that it contained “something most touching and the tenderness of human love is made most agreeable mixed with the constancy of the divine.” The versification of the poem was deemed “admirable.” Gounod’s score (which the courts finally retrieved for him through the French critic Oscar Commettant) from the beginning was met with some confusion. Neither oratorio nor opera, critics were baffled by its lack of drama, overt religiosity (the baptism scene and the singing of both the Pater Noster and the Credo), and “sobriety of means.” The composer once remarked that he would just as soon have the work performed in a concert version with everyone dressed in black. Various critics did find much to praise in the music: the quartet in Act I, the prayer of Pauline (reminiscent, some thought, of Gluck), the dance music of Act III, which was believed to be the “most original,” and Act IV, which “did the composer the most honor.” The author also includes a discussion of the critical observations of the premiere performance. The soprano, Gabrielle Krauss (who sang Pauline) was particularly praised for her performance, as was Jean-Louis Lasalle who sang Sévère; however, Marius Salomon, who sang Polyeucte, received unfavorable reviews: he had “bien la foi, mais non la voix!” Despite the generally positive comments, Polyeucte never made a great success and remains obscured by its own hybrid musical features. The

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide journals from which the author collates her evidence include a variety of art journals, general periodicals, and some of the lesser-known sources of the day, such as: Revue de Deux Mondes, La République Française, Revue de France, Journal des Debats, Chronique musicale, Le rappel and Le Gaulois among others.

142. Crichton, Ronald. “Mireille and Esclarmonde.” Opera 34 (1983): 1293–99. ISSN 00303526. This article discusses both operas—one by Gounod and the other by Massenet—in terms of the special challenges they present as examples of nineteenth-century French opera. He addresses the use of spoken dialogue in the opéra-comique genre and traces the various versions of Mireille. The author also notes “French romantic opera was uncertainly poised between opéra-comique of the old kind and grand opera on the Meyerbeer model.” 143. Curtiss, Mina. “Gounod before Faust.” Musical Quarterly, 38 (1952): 48–67. http://www.jstor.org/stable/739593 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. This article follows Gounod’s career from the Prix de Rome years in Italy and Germany through his return to France and the composition of La nonne sanglante. It chronicles the acquaintances of Fanny Hensel and her impressions of the young composer (“hyper-romantic and passionate”), Gounod’s flirtation with the idea of taking holy orders, and his complex relationship with Pauline Viardot and the composition of Sapho for her. Curtiss also examines Gounod’s composition of the choruses for Ulysse and his early friendship with Bizet. The article concludes with an account of the genesis of La nonne sanglante based upon Lewis’s Gothic novel, The Monk. The author draws upon Gounod’s own Memoires as well as Saint-Saëns’s Portraits et Souvenirs and Prod’homme and Dandelot’s 1911 monograph on Gounod for much of her background. However, Curtiss also reproduces an unpublished letter from Berlioz to Gounod dated October 11, 1854 in which Berlioz addresses Gounod’s apprehension about setting La nonne after it had first been offered to Berlioz. In this same letter Berlioz compliments Gounod on the “profound and noble emotions your Sapho made me feel.” This is an important article not only because of the reproduction of this letter, but because of the adroit and informative manner in which this early period of Gounod’s life and career is documented for the reader. 144. Dandelot, Arthur. “La critique et Faust de Gounod.” Review musicale 153 (1935): 116–118. This article, written after the performance organized by Jacques Rouché to celebrate the 2000 performance of Faust, reviews some of the opinions and critiques of Gounod’s opera that date from 1859 to 1934. The excerpts

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mentioned are from writers including Paul Scudo (La Revue de Deux Mondes), Félix Clément, Jules Simon, and the author himself. Scudo feels that Gounod “flirts with Wagnerism,” and Fiorentino (an unidentified author) finds that the composer “tries to break with the tradition of Meyerbeer in order to rally around the theories of Wagner. Unfortunately, these excerpts are rather brief and taken out of context; furthermore the author/collator does not really attempt to draw any conclusions from them. 145. Dibbern, Mary. Faust/Roméo et Juliette: A Guide to Performance. Hillsdale, NY: Pendragon Press, 2006. 245 p. ML410.G7 D53. ISBN 1576471012. This volume contains word-for-word English translations for the libretti of both operas—Faust and Roméo et Juliette—including transcriptions into International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA). Clearly this tool is a performing guide for singers; however, it also includes a lengthy introduction to the literary sources and libretti of these two works, with a foreword by Jean-Pierre Gounod, the composer’s great-grandson, who included much material from private manuscripts in his possession. Also, there are included many reproductions of prints and illustrations in this monograph which came from Gounod’s great-great-great-grandson, François Devin. These illustrations include not only photographs of the composer, but contemporary prints depicting various scenes from the two operas in question. Gounod’s great-grandson points to the spiritual side of the composer’s musical creations, and emphasizes the preeminence of melody in Gounod’s music. He offers the advice that Gounod gave other composers: “Try to write eight measures that can be played without an accompaniment.” Also, Jean-Pierre includes many other telling quotes, including: “In the best pages by Gounod, what I love above all, as in Mozart, is that infinite purity, that undeniable tenderness and these accents containing so much thought which expresses love, both divine and human” (Henri Dutilleux). Paul Dukas wrote “Gounod has left not only a memory of an artist full of faith and enthusiasm for his art, but also that of a true and profoundly good heart. And perhaps that is the largest and purest expression of his glory.” These two quotes rather sum up Gounod as the composer and the man. Dibbern offers a brief introduction to the libretto sources of the two works, discussing both Goethe and Shakespeare’s versions. She briefly explores the differences between Gounod’s operatic versions and the original versions, also including peripheral discussions of similar works by Berlioz. This source (by the author’s admission) is most useful for singers, coaches, conductors, stage directors, and students of opera. Throughout the libretto translations are included with annotations showing where exact quotes or paraphrases are found in original sources, and translations of stage directions and the scenic mis en scène. This is a truly useful tool for serious singers and other opera professionals, and it is a

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide welcome addition to scholarship in the field. This volume is number six in the series Vox Musicae published by Pendragon.

146. Dutronc, Jean-Louis. “Faust: Goethe et les musicians.” L’avant-scène opéra (1976): 62–71. The author divides his discussion of the legend of Faust in music into three large categories: song, symphony, and operas/oratorios. In the first section he mentions settings by Schubert, Wagner, Schumann, Loewe, Moussorgsky, and Busoni; however, he does not offer any in-depth analysis or discussion of these works. In the second category—symphonies—he mentions the works by Wagner (Faust Overture), Liszt (Faust Symphony) and Mahler (Symphony no. 8). Again there is no real analysis in a technical sense. Dutronc dedicates the majority of this section to a description of Liszt’s Faust Symphony. It is in the third category—operas and oratorios— where the author explores the subject in more detail. Here Dutronc concentrates upon the works by Gounod, Schumann, Boito, and Berlioz, discussing the various approaches each takes to their work in relationship to Goethe’s original, and when appropriate, comparing the settings one to another. In this examination, the author offers specific examples to support his observations. He divides this portion of the analysis into two main sections: The First Faust and the Second Faust. These correspond to Goethe’s part one and part two of the story respectively, which were originally published separately. The first section (The First Faust), Dutronc subdivides into three sections: The Solitude of Faust, The Sorcery of Mephistopheles, and The Episode of Marguerite. The article concludes with a very fine comparative table, which divides Goethe’s story into its important sections, and then to the right shows where Gounod, Berlioz, Schumann, Boito, and the other composers have taken their material. From this the reader can determine that Gounod’s material has come from the first part of Faust only, as did Berlioz’s Damnation de Faust, whereas Schumann and Boito took from both parts of the original with Schumann taking most of his material and inspiration from the second part. This is a very interesting article and a fine comparison of the large-scale works written on Goethe’s Faust. It would be most helpful now to have a more complete and deeply analytical discussion of this topic. 147. Engel, Louis. “A Word on Faust.” In From Mozart to Mario, Reminiscences of Half a Century, vol. 1, p. 146–170. London: Richard Bentley and Son. 1886. 339 p. ML385.E58, vol. 1. This article was written as a part of Engel’s reminiscences on Gounod. Here the author believes that what renders the opera—both literary and musical—so popular is the supernatural element. He says it is: not the faithful tenderness of Marguerite, it is not the sympathy with her unhappy fate, nor is it pity for the honorable brother so

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treacherously murdered which excites the interest of the general public ... It is the supernatural power of Mephistopheles ... who triumphs by his devilish tricks. Engel also identifies four types of characters in Goethe’s drama (not including the minor players). They are the doctor, a learned man; Mephistopheles; Marguerite; and the “conceited ignoramus” Wagner. While the author does not continue to define these “types” they are reasonably clear archetypes of goodness and evil, the beautiful and chaste, as well as the ignorant. The author commends Gounod on allowing his characters to “sing as they think, and gradually as their thoughts change, so changes the expression.” The devil’s music is “sneering from beginning to end, but Faust is now cynical, now sentimental; and Marguerite, innocent and loving in the garden scene, becomes tragic in the church and dramatic in the prison.” Engel recognizes the weakness of the libretto, with the many licenses taken by Barbier and Carré, but nevertheless he acknowledges the opera has become an extraordinary success. This he assigns to the graceful and tender first act, with its military music and spirited market scene, as well as the serious and dignified church scene culminating in the climax of the finale with its “continual modulation.” He states: “apart from the question of melodies, the orchestration is a perfect treasure of spiritual combinations, wonderfully expressive of the situation and the words, a mine of new harmonies, of excellent contrapuntal work, and of novel effects.” Despite this, the author acknowledges that: in Faust all these beauties follow each other, but do not form one immense column—do not possess that Greek unity which puts a work of art before you, which remain details and only combine in forming one great artistic whole. This Engel believes is why the opera will never command the same profound respect as Goethe’s epic poem. 148. Fauquet, Joël-Marie. “Quatre versions de Roméo et Juliette.” L’avantscène opera 41 (1982): 66–71. There are four versions of Roméo et Juliette that exist in piano version. Versions A and D were transcribed by Hector Salomon, version C (the shortest) indicates that it is arranged by Ant. Bérel, and version B bears no name of an arranger. According to Fauquet’s remarks and data, it is the finale of the third act that is the most problematic. General observations include that in version C (1873) the role of the Duke of Verona is suppressed, and that version D (1888) is an amplification of version B and is currently the one commonly used. Fauquet includes important and valuable tables of each act that compare the four versions, indicating the various suppressions and additions for performances at the Théatre Lyrique,

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide the Opéra-comique, (1873–versions B and C), and the Palais-Garnier (1888). According to the table, Act IV adds the ballet, which is de rigueur at the Palais-Garnier (Opéra), and in Act V, the scene with Brother Laurent and Brother Jean (no. 20) is suppressed in both versions C (1873) and D (1888). This is an extremely valuable article more so for the table of information that makes the additions and changes in the four versions of the opera very clear.

149. Ferchault, G. Faust: une légende et ses musiciens. Paris: Larousse. 1948. 115 p. MT100.F8. After a brief introduction, which offers a history of the Faust legend from ca. 1480 to Goethe’s version, the author divides the monograph into five major sections. Part one examines what the author deems “forgotten scores” including Ludwig Spohr’s Faust and Boïto’s Mefistofele. The fifth chapter discusses other settings of the legend, such as Adolphe Adam’s Faust, various symphonic versions, as well as songs and cantatas based upon the story. However, the main focus is the three chapters dedicated to the treatment of Faust by Schumann, Berlioz, and Gounod. Each of these three chapters is subdivided into three sections: history, analysis, and aesthetic. The chapter on Gounod’s opera (chapter IV) begins with a brief examination of the genesis of the work, which dates back to 1839 when the composer was in Rome at the Académie de France. The author also chronicles various important stages in the development of the work, including musical material he borrowed from his previous works (“Dies irae” from his Requiem and music from Ivan le Terrible), his introduction to the librettists Barbier and Carré, and the chronology of important European premieres. The second portion of the chapter is an analysis of the opera with special attention to various arias, duets, ensembles, and choruses. Here the author makes some interesting observations regarding Gounod’s innovative use of the orchestra, his harmonic and melodic language, and his use of recurring themes. It is unfortunate that Ferchault’s commentary in this section is rather superficial and brief. In general, the author finds Gounod’s orchestral interludes and instrumental sections to be evocative and atmospheric. He feels that the introduction to the opera is “one of the most remarkable pages that Gounod ever wrote,” and he also speaks highly of the fugal section as well. Some of the vocal selections to which the author turns his attention include the “Ronde du Veau” which he finds to be “well suited to the voice and endowed with a brilliant instrumentation.” Siebel’s couplets at the beginning of Act III he feels are “insignificant” and “a little mediocre.” However, the author believes that the Cavatine, “Salut, demeure chaste et pure” is “typical of the melodic style of Gounod” and its harmonies are “transparent and limpid,” with a “gracious” countermelody in the violin. Likewise, Ferchault praises the duet in Act III “Laisse-moi contempler ton visage” for its series of modulations, its orchestration, and its “ineffable tenderness.” He continues his

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analysis in this same vein throughout the opera. Weak points include the trio and death of Valentin, which he believes are “among the weakest pages in the opera.” The author discusses in detail the scenes of the Ballet in Act V. Gounod added the ballet for performance at the Opera. In the final section of the chapter, the author includes a list of eight changes and/or omissions made in the early, original version of the libretto. Ferchault believes that Gounod was not able to totally escape the influences of the Grand Operas of Meyerbeer; however, in Faust Gounod demonstrates his melodic inspiration, the grace of his arias, the sensual quality of his song, and the elegance and distinction of his thematic ideas. The author praises Gounod for his gift of melody, stating that, “a melodist above all ... Gounod marks a renewal in the history of operacomique and opera ... Gounod, with his Faust, shows the way to a new mode of expression.” In general a very fine appreciation of this opera, it is unfortunate that the author does not dig more deeply into the score and identify for the reader what exactly makes Gounod’s Faust such an important work. 150. Galland, Marthe. Charles Gounod, Mireille: dossier de presse parisienne (1864). Beitigheim: Musik-Edition L. Galland, 1995. 220 p. ML410.G7. ISBN 3925934243. This is an interesting and very valuable collection of the reviews of Gounod’s opera Mireille, which were published in 20 periodicals. The sources include such well-known music journals as La France Musicale, L’Art Musical, Le Ménestrel, Revue et Gazette Musicale, and La Musique Populaire. Non-musical periodicals include Le Siècle, La Presse, Le Pays, Le Journal des Débats, Le Temps, and Revue des Deux Mondes. In addition, some of these reviews were written by not only well-established writers, but also by those whose specialty was music journalism, such as Léon Escudier, Joseph d’Ortigue, Paul Scudo, Auguste Durand, and B. Jouvin. These reviews tend to be rather negative, featuring complaints that the opera was “boring,” it was “too long,” and it was not dramatic enough a story for an opera. There are some writers who find the original poem by Mistral worthy literature, but they in turn believe that Carré’s versification and arrangement destroys the original. While Gounod’s talent is universally recognized by the critics, his setting of Mireille is often criticized for its lack of drama and for being too pompous and uninspiring. However, there are others who believe the composer’s music is delicate, beautiful, and charming, and overall they pronounce the work a success. Some even go so far as to predict the opera’s future popularity; however, time has spoken on that subject. In general, the singers (including the famous Mme. Carvalho) were all roundly applauded as was the overall musical and theatrical production, but there are critics who believed that there were only two or three good acts worth of music, and that prolonging the opera to its current length was detrimental. This may account for the fact that Gounod

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide later toyed with shortening the opera and rearranging some of the music. There are some rather interesting observations made by the critics, including the parallels between Vincent and Mireille with Aneas and Dido in Berlioz’s Les Troyens, and even comparisons drawn between the leading couple with Paul and Virginie. The supplication scene of Mireille with Ramon echoes a similar scene between Rachel and Eléazar in Halévy’s La Juive. This collection of reviews is an extremely important anthology for anyone studying this opera; however, it is likewise significant for anyone studying the aesthetics and musical journalism of this period. It is a welcomed addition to the scholarship in this field. The next step in this process (after the gathering of reviews on the opera), is to analyze and examine the aesthetics and criteria of the writers and to determine why some were so negative while others much more positive. The editor of this volume does not do this, but rather presents the reviews exactly as they appeared in the source. There is a brief introduction to the volume and an index of names and other compositions mentioned throughout the reviews.

151. Gann, Andrew. “Theophile Gautier, Charles Gounod, and the Massacre of La Nonne sanglante.” The Journal of Musicological Research 13, no. 1–2 (1993): 49–66. ISSN 0141–1896. In this article the author investigates the possible reasons for the failure of Gounod’s opera, La Nonnne sanglante, despite some positive reviews and general box office success. He indicates that there are four main plausible explanations for the failure of the work that are found in the contemporary periodic press. They are: the poor libretto, the weakness of the music, the unevenness of the roles for the singers, and the quality of singing. Gann explores the relationship between Gounod and Gautier, as well as Gautier’s work as a music critic. The author posits that another possible reason for the death of the opera was due in part to Palmyre Wertheimber, the soprano who sang the title role, and Gautier’s extreme praise of her talents that he voiced in the press. This he did at the expense of the reigning prima donna, Sophie Cruvelli. Gann suggests that it was a simple case of rivalry that caused the opera to be withdrawn. The author examines primary sources as well as important secondary sources. He quotes Gounod as saying that he believed that there were “hidden motives” which he did not know. Believing that the case may never be solved, it was Gann’s desire was to try to explain this in terms of “individuals, of careers that I can reconstruct from contemporary documentation, of favors requested and trials undergone.” This is a very interesting and fine contribution to modern scholarly literature on the composer, by an author who did not want to take previous explanations at face value. 152. Gauthier, Théophile. “Gounod. La Nonne Sanglante, opera en cinq actes paroles de MM. Scribe et Germain Delavigne.” In La Musique, p. 207–225. Paris: Bibliothèque Charpentier, 1911. ML60.G3.

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This is a collection of essays written by Gauthier during his career as a music critic for La Presse during the nineteenth century. This particular essay appeared in La Presse on October 24 and 31, 1854. After passing through the hands of various composers (including Berlioz), the libretto of La nonne sanglante came to Gounod. According to Gauthier, the story contains “two or three natural scenes that would tempt a musician, and of which M. Gounod made the most.” The author spends the first portion of the essay explaining the plot of the opera scene by scene. Gauthier believes that the third act shows Gounod “marvelously inspired by his genius as a symphonist, creating an admirable effect that did not exist in the libretto.” The author praises the composer’s audacity of allowing the orchestra “speak by itself” for more that ten minutes to convey the scene to the audience. To further aid in setting this nocturnal and mysterious scene with wind blowing and the shudders of the phantoms, Gounod cleverly has the chorus “murmuring with closed mouths” (i.e., humming). Gauthier believes Gounod’s score of La nonne sanglante to be “one of the most beautiful and grand works of the day.” He continues to say that, “the composer who wrote these admirable pages where the elevation of style, the beauty of color, and the perfection of harmonic work are carried so far, is able to have his place among the great masters.” This is truly high praise for an opera that is no longer in the repertory! The author speaks of Gounod’s use of “new modulations,” and an “originality, which is the particular stamp of the work of a young composer;” however, he does not mention any specific examples. Gauthier points to the duet “Grand Dieu, c’est mon Agnès” as containing a wide variety of sentiments: supplication, terrors of passion, and supreme love. Also, he calls Rudolph’s romance, “Un air plus pur, un ciel d’azur” a “musical jewel” possessing an “exquisite suavité ... rare in most of our modern operas.” The author also believes Gounod to be “a real musician,” “a serious artist, who makes no concession to bad taste,” he is “a savant without being a pedant, original without pursuit.” Gauthier indicates that if Gounod would have been better served by a better libretto, by more really dramatic situations, by real poetry and not rhymed bits. If Gounod had had a better libretto, he would have created a true masterpiece. 153. Gounod, Nicolas. “Un opera Maçonnique français meconnu: La reine de Saba de Charles Gounod.” Website: Charles Gounod his life, his works, http://www.charles-gounod.com/vi/index.htm (accessed September 25, 2007). This article, written by Gounod’s great-great-grandson, explores the explicit Masonic elements contained in the opera La reine de Saba (1862). The author first examines the text which alludes to Masonic rites and then connects how the librettist—Barbier and Carré would have come into contact with Nerval’s stories to create their libretto. Also, the author posits how could a non-Mason composer and librettist and even the author,

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide Nerval himself, who was not a known Mason, create a work with such overt Masonic allusions? This continues, he believes, to be the real mystery of the work. The author points to the Masonic legend of Hiram (Adoniram in the opera) and the use of the Loges bleues (three first degrees: apprentice, companion, and master), and the association with the Scottish Rite rituals, as indications that some of the artists involved— composer, librettist, and/or author—were intimately familiar with the Masons. Gounod proffers some explanations for this and he also suggest four hypotheses that might explain how Nerval may have been more intimately involved in the composition of the libretto, and that possibly he was the one who was closely tied to (if not perhaps a member of) the Masons. While Gounod (the composer) remained a devout Catholic his entire life, it is very doubtful that he knowingly composed a “Masonic” opera. There is also no evidence in Gounod’s correspondence that would indicate that the composer knew anything of Masonic ritual. The author believes the greatest mystery of the opera remains: how was a work so explicitly Masonic created by non-Masons? La reine de Saba, according to Gounod, is the most explicitly Masonic opera in the nineteenth-century French repertory.

154. Grimm, William Edward. The Faust Legend in Music and Literature. Lewsiton, N. Y.: Edwin Mellon Press, 1988. 107 p. ML63.G75 1988. ISBN 0889464286. This brief but important monograph examines the Faust legend in five guises representing various historical periods: The Mephisto Waltz: Franz Liszt and Nikolaus Lenau; Faust and Popular Art: Gounod’s Faust; Faust Manqué: Boito’s Mefistofele; Faust as Magician: Busoni’s Doktor Faustus; and Diabolis in musica: Thomas Mann’s Doktor Faustus. According to the author, the emphasis of this book is “placed on the musical-literary nexus of several Faust works, on how literary and musical forms mutually inform and influence one another.” In the chapter on Liszt the author examines “why Liszt was inspired by Lenau’s work instead of Goethe’s.” It is Boito’s opera that the author believes remains truer to Goethe’s Faust than any other operatic setting, and this is examined the third chapter. The chapter that deals with Busoni’s opera: examines Nietzche’s influence on Busoni, and explores the questions of whether or not the eclectic musical style of Busoni was successful in portraying the ambivalent character of Faust and whether or not Busoni (who acted as his own librettist) was more successful artistically in combining the literary and musical elements in Doktor Faust than in those works produced by collaborative efforts. The final chapter, dedicated to Thomas Mann’s Doktor Faustus, examines the “use of musical metaphors” which symbolizes the “decay of German

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civilization and the rise to power of the Nazis.” It is in the second chapter, on Gounod’s opera Faust, the author explores “whether Gounod’s music is in any way representative of Goethe’s Faust, and if so, why is this not reflected in the libretto?” In this chapter the author—like others before him—identifies how Gounod’s opera has the least in common with Goethe, and points to various places in the opera where the libretto diverges from the original, and how various characters in the opera are changed from those in the original drama. Specifically, the author indicates that Gounod’s work bears only “slight resemblance” to Goethe’s Faust and that “the opera is completely given over to the Gretchen tragedy at the expense of Faust’s search for meaning in life.” Grimm believes that it is because of this misplaced emphasis that Gounod (as if he was the one who fashioned the libretto) “loses sight of Goethe’s drama most completely.” He also complains that, “Gounod’s characters are not as finely or as deeply drawn as those of Goethe.” The author feels that two things may be learned from his examination of Gounod’s opera: 1) “even the greatest music cannot compensate for a shoddy text” and 2) “the great works of art are great in their totality but not necessarily in their individual components.” While this chapter is interesting, and the author makes many valid points, he seems to fail to acknowledge or understand that it was not the intention of the librettists (Barbier and Carré) to present Goethe in the original form, but rather to refashion the work, taking elements from it to recompose a dramatic work based upon the original. Grimm, like others, chastises the librettists and consequently the composer for not remaining true to the original. If a composer wished to remain true to Goethe’s original, then s/he would merely set the entire text verbatim and be done with it. It is unfortunate that the author does not recognize Gounod’s opera for what it is, reconcile it with its place in history and the traditions of which it is a part, and analyze it in that context. 155. Guieu, Jean-Max. “Mirèio and Mireille Mistral’s Poem and Gounod’s Opera.” Opera Quarterly. 10/1 (1993/1994.) 33–47. The author gives a thorough history of Provençal culture, and how Mistral’s poem Mireio played an important role in revitalizing both the culture and language during the nineteenth century. He also chronicles Gounod’s desire to set Mistral’s poem, the relationship of the two men, and the chronology of the composition of the opera. This article clearly demonstrates how Gounod’s opera is clearly an example of French nationalism with elements of the verismo style. That the composer’s interpretation of the traditional tune, “Magali” was faithful “to a fault,” and his use of the Farandole indicate that Gounod was very concerned with authentically portraying the local color. He fell in love with the country during his visits to Mistral and Laurens, a specialist in Provençal music. The author also examines the five main versions of the opera and discusses the reasons for some of the changes, from the premiere in 1864 to the fifth version

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide of 1901. He also mentions the attempt in 1936, at the request of Gounod’s daughter, to produce performances of the original version with the help of Reynaldo Hahn. While the phenomena of Mireille was popular in Paris, and became synonymous with purity and simplicity, the opera was not popular in Provence. These audiences were not happy with the adaptations made for Parisian audiences in both language and plot. The author offers specific examples of these changes that upset the Provençal audiences. Mireille is not the Mireio of Mistral, just as Gounod’s Faust is not that of Goethe, or Massenet’s Manon is not identical to Prévost’s original and Rigoletto is not Hugo’s Le roi s’amuse. This is a wonderful and interesting contribution to the existing literature on Gounod’s operas.

156. Hopkinson, Cecil. “Notes on the Earliest Editions of Gounod’s Faust.” In Festschrift Otto Erich Deutsch, p. 245–249. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1963. 392 p. ML55.G37. In this very important essay, the author offers a brief chronology of the performance genesis of Gounod’s opera, beginning with its inception as an opéra-comique with dialogue to its later version given at the Opéra with recitatives and ballet music. Recitatives were added in 1860 for performances in Strausbourg and were then (according to the author) used ever since. Hopkinson also mentions the English version of the work translated by Henry Chorley, which was performed at Her Majesty’s Theater, and the Italian version, Fausto e Margaretta, which was performed at Covent Garden. Despite its tenuous beginning, Faust became an extremely popular work during Gounod’s lifetime, contributing greatly to his fame. At the conclusion of the article, the author lists descriptions of various editions from 1859– the first, to 1869– the fourth. For each of these editions Hopkinson lists any specific changes—additions or omissions—from previous versions, and gives detailed page numbers and act placement. Interestingly, the second edition of 1860, which uses recitatives in Acts 2, 3, and 4, contains an additional 447 measures. This article is an extremely valuable piece of research regarding the opera. 157. Hippeau, Edmond. “Le Tribut de Zamora.” Renaissance musicale 5 (April 3, 1881): 3–5 and 6 (April 10, 1881): 4–5. This essay examines, according to the author, “why this opera, which is a great work, is not a masterpiece.” First and perhaps foremost, Hippeau believes that “unity” does not exist in the work; there are “twenty marvelous pages of grace, delicateness, feeling.” Also the dramatic verisimilitude—the “code of musical expression itself”—is lacking. With this said, the author continues in the article to point to instances that support his thesis. For example, the “national air” of Zamora he feels possesses nothing—“the poetry is nothing, the theme is banal, repeating the same quatrain the first time on a half cadence, the second time on an authentic cadence.” Unlike the Marseillaise, it is not inspiring. Some of the

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weaknesses Hippeau identifies include “trivial melodies” (in the ballet sequence), while some of the strengths include Gounod’s handling of colorful orchestration (the march and the music for the slave auction) and the aria, “Kasidah” for Hadjar, which is reprinted at the conclusion of the article. The septet and March of the Captives, Hippeau believes, ranks with the second act of Aida for its power and orchestral writing. In general, the author points to the various elements that prevented this work from achieving renown and popularity. This opera was premiered on April 1, 1881, just two days prior to this review, and while Hippeau is complimentary in some aspects, he is nevertheless candid with his criticism. 158. Huebner, Steven. The Operas of Charles Gounod. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990. 314 p. ML410.G7 H8. This is the most recent and scholarly addition to Gounod research in English. It is divided into three sections: Chronicle, The Operas, and Style. The first part is a well-documented account of the composer’s biography and it includes some never-before mentioned material. The second part analyzes each opera individually and in detail, focusing on Faust, Mireille, and Roméo et Juliette. He discusses not only the music but also the literary sources, demonstrating an intimate knowledge of both primary and secondary sources. In the third part, Huebner deals with the melody, harmony, and formal design of Gounod’s operas, in addition to offering a valuable account of the musical style and form of contemporary French opera. There is a valuable appendix of plot summaries of the operas that correspond to the first edition of the vocal scores. 159. Huebner, Steven. “Mireille Revisited.” Musical Times. 134 (1983): 737–744. http://www.jstor.org/stable/9622210 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. In this article the author identifies and explains the various versions of the opera Mireille that were performed from its premiere in 1864 until the 1939 revival by Reynaldo Hahn and Henri Busser. While Busser’s 1939 version, which tried to capture the original, became the accepted as nearest to authentic, Huebner indicates that an autograph in the Pierpont Library (New York) and other source materials such as two important manuscript libretti at the National Archives not examined by Busser, offer information that will help recreate with more authority the original version of the opera. The article examines issues pertaining to the order of numbers and the addition of pieces, as well as other changes made during the composer’s lifetime. Huebner calls for a critical edition of the work that will include “full documentation of the various phases in its history.” This article is a must for anyone doing research on this particular opera, or on the dramatic music of Gounod in general. Huebner incorporates his findings in his monograph on Gounod’s operas cited above.

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160. Inghelbrecht, D. Comment on ne doit pas interpreter Carmen, Faust, Pelléas. Paris: Au Ménestrel, 1933. 75 p. ML3858. This monograph serves as a sort of performance guide to the three operas mentioned, because in the author’s own words: “To know how to realize with art and with the spirit the intentions and wishes of the composers, in relying upon the indications that they have noted precisely, that is the most difficult, also more easy than it would appear.” The author believes that these three operas (Carmen, Faust, and Pelléas) fit together because Gounod’s work was the precursor to Bizet’s; Faust “boldly overthrew ... the most rigid principles of the laws of harmony.” The author quotes Ravel as mentioning “with enthusiasm” the “successions of unprepared sevenths” in Siebel’s cavatina. Likewise, Inghelbrecht also believed that Gounod “contributed with Faust to the efflorescence of the great genius of Debussy.” Unfortunately he is not more specific. Throughout the chapter on Faust, the author points out abuses of various sorts—tempo, dynamics, and rhythm—which have crept into modern performances of the opera. In addition, he laments that even though Gounod calls for four harps, often times only two are used in performances. The author even goes so far as to suggest artworks which might inspire the staging of the opera, for example: Rembrandt’s “Philosopher in meditation” for Act I, and later a Breughel painting for the Kermesse scene. These artworks are reproduced in the text. Inghelbrecht proceeds act by act with his “corrections.” The waltz in Act II, he indicates, is often taken too fast. And when taken at the correct tempo it is actually more of a Landler or Viennese waltz. The author also admonishes the reader that “it is sufficient to observe the metronome markings of Gounod to perceive that the entire act is generally played too fast.” On a more detailed level, the author warns the solo violinist in Faust’s aria, “Salut demeure, chaste et pure” that the difficulties that lay in their part can be avoided with “judicious use of the first and third positions.” He also reminds the reader that the rests in Marguerite’s “Roi de Thulé” must be observed, and that the ritornello of this aria is “generally too brutally attacked by the basses.” The dialogue between Mephistopheles and Marthe is likewise usually accompanied “too strongly, too heavily, [and] without spirit.” Some of the liberties that performers take include the addition of a “pedal point preceded by a ritardando” over Faust’s high B-flat in the Act IV trio (Faust, Mephistopheles, and Valentin.) This makes it difficult for the orchestra to follow the soloists and makes no musical sense. The author points to other instances where, if the conductor and musicians would simply follow Gounod’s indications of nuance, then the music works perfectly. Usually, according to the author, when pages of the score do not sound beautiful, it is because the conductor or musicians are ignoring what the composer has written. This chapter on Faust continues with several more examples of abuses and liberties.

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161. Joly, Jacques. “La nonne sanglante tra Donizetti, Berlioz e Gounod.” In L’opera tra Venezia et Parigi, p 193–252. Firenze: Olschki. 1988. This extended essay provides an interesting and interconnected history of the opera libretto for La nonne sanglante—one that is as literary as it is musical in nature. Organized in three broad sections, the study begins with a cultural and stylistic overview of the late-eighteenth and early-nineteenth century Gothic romance. Among the numerous seminal works by such writers as Radcliffe and Walpole, Joly recognizes The Monk by Matthew Gregory Lewis as the most popular and successful model in the early development of the genre. Appearing in 1795, Lewis’s English work would have significant influence upon the French novelists Stendhal, Vigny, Hugo, Sand, Nodier, and Théophile Gautier. Joly investigates the interrelationships among various literary works, including Robert le diable, that would at least in part owe something of their invention to Lewis’s masterpiece. The first section of the essay also offers a brief synopsis of The Monk and its plot about magic, murder, and torture. Joly suggests that Gaetano Donizetti may have seen a theatrical production of La nonne sanglante by Anicet Bourgeois while visiting Paris in 1835. Donizetti would set the story as the 3-act opera seria Maria di Rudenz (1838) with a libretto by Cammarano. A review of the similarities and differences between the DonizettiCammarano treatment and other contemporary handlings of the story comprises the second part of the article. The third and largest section of Joly’s study traces the further history of Lewis’s tale as it was adapted for the operatic stage by librettist Eugène Scribe, offered but eventually abandoned by Hector Berlioz, and ultimately set to music by Charles Gounod. As per Berlioz’s own Memoires, Scribe and the composer parted ways with regard to the project by 1847. According to Berlioz, the libretto was then offered to Halévy, Verdi, and Grisar who “all had the delicacy to decline his offer,” before it was finally accepted by the young Gounod (1854). Joly compares several surviving excerpts from Berlioz’s work on the opera with similar passages scored by Gounod. Berlioz was to claim that his own music for the ‘legende’ of the bloody nun was some of the best he had composed. Gounod himself had approached Berlioz feeling somewhat apprehensive about having inherited the libretto. While initial criticism of Gounod’s grand opera were favorable, the work, perhaps more due to the complexity and inferiority of Scribe’s libretto, quickly disappeared from the repertory — a fate that Gounod himself seemed to accept in his Memoires d’un Artiste. An appendix to the study provides a synopsis for a ballet by Scribe entitled Le fantôme, existing only in manuscript form and exhibiting relationships not only to the libretto for La nonne sanglante, but also to a collaboration with the composer St. Georges, Minuit ou les amours de l’Autre Monde. 162. Landormy, Paul. “Faust de Gounod.” In La Musique Française de la Marseillaise à la mort de Berlioz. Paris: Gallimard, 1944. 302 p. ML 270.5 L32M8.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide In this brief appreciation of Gounod’s Faust, Landormy praises the composer’s melodic gift and his clarity of musical design. He quotes from Léon Escudier who extolled Gounod’s use of the orchestra, which he described as a “science,” and his “original” use of the choir. However, Escudier accuses the composer of using the orchestra for musical effect more than the voices! Landormy dismisses these and other criticisms with an explanation that, at the time, Gounod’s melodic gift was not well appreciated. He states that the audience of the time was more accustomed to hearing “neat Rossinian melodies” or the “accents of Meyerbeerian declamation.” Melodic writing of the day was traditionally in 8 and 16 measure phrases, explains Landormy, and Gounod’s melodies did not always fit that mold. He uses excerpts from “Salut demure chaste et pure” and “l’Absence” to clarify his point. Berlioz alone seemed to understand this at the time, for such was his admiration for Faust’s cavatina, “Salut demure chaste et pure,” and he had publicly praised this aria for its melodic invention and “intimacy.” Landormy also points to the way Gounod constructs his melodies using what would be identified as sequences, although not exact ones. His melodies seem organic—to grow out of themselves. The author believes that Gounod was an innovator, and that Faust most clearly demonstrates this. In closing, Landormy proclaims Gounod to be the French Mozart, a sentiment echoed by others. Although brief, this essay is a worthy analysis of Gounod’s melodic ability.

163. Landormy, Paul. Faust de Gounod: étude historique et critique, analyse musicale. Paris: Mellottée, 1944. 201 p. MT100.G71 F1. This valuable study is divided into six parts. The first is a brief biographical sketch of the composer that relies heavily upon Gounod’s autobiographical writing as well as Prod’homme and Dandelot’s biographical study (see item #117 above.) The second portion examines the genesis of the work, it premiere, critical reception, and a brief history of performance from its premiere until the time of the monograph (roughly 1944.) This section includes important observations by Berlioz, Joseph d’Ortigue, Leon Escudier, and others, while providing a short history of European and American premieres and a detailed listing of singers who interpreted the work at the Théâtre-Lyrique, Paris from its premiere until 1920. In the third section of the monograph Landormy offers historical background on the story of Faust from 1480 until Barbier and Carré’s adaptation for Gounod’s opera. Also discussed are the various other musical settings of the story, including Liszt’s symphony, Schumann’s Faust, Berlioz’s Damnation of Faust and Boïto’s treatment of the subject in his opera. Following this, the author gives a brief synopsis of Gounod’s opera. The fourth part of the book is dedicated to a musical analysis of each act of the opera. The author begins by offering some general observations of

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Gounod’s musical style. He believes that there are four distinct types of elements manifest in the work. The first is Gounod’s melodic style, which he finds graceful, touching, and “possessing a totally unique character.” The second element is more “complex” and deals with the composer’s use of rhythm and harmony, while the third is Gounod’s knowledge of historical music and his ability to synthesize many styles. The fourth and final element is that while his music possesses original and charming qualities, it still contains some of the “banalities” of the contemporary operatic style. After these initial remarks, Landormy examines each scene with emphasis on selected arias, duets, and ensembles, exploring their unique musical and dramatic characteristics. The author devotes most of his energy to this portion of the book. The fifth section of the monograph places Faust in relation to Gounod’s other musical compositions, proving that “all the most personal merits of his genius and at their highest degree” are contained in that opera. The sixth and final section is a brief, yet interesting exploration of Gounod’s influence upon succeeding generations of French composers. Here the author identifies several musicians including Bizet, Massenet, Fauré, Duparc, Chausson, and even Debussy and Stravinsky, who were inspired by Gounod. While in some instances the author points to very specific musical phrases in specific compositions, he sadly does not examine the overall influence on form and style. Nevertheless, this is an admirable exploration in itself, which demands a fuller investigation on the subject. The volume is replete with musical examples from Faust to support the author’s points; however, musical examples are unfortunately lacking in the discussion of Gounod’s influence on others. This is a very important study, which offers many insights and provides inspiration for further research. 164. Langevin, Kenneth. Au silence des belles nuits: the Earlier Songs of Charles Gounod. PhD dissertation, Cornell University. 1978. 212 p. ML410.G7. This dissertation is an extremely fine study of the songs of Gounod prior to 1870. It is divided into two main sections: Part I—Analysis and Part II— Survey. In the first part the author subdivides his investigation into two sections, the first of which is a discussion of Gounod and the poet Lamartine, whose poetry the composer frequently set to music, and the second is a very detailed analysis of Gounod’s setting of Larmartine’s poem, “Où voulez-vous aller?” This analysis examines not only the text, but also all elements of the music, and Gounod’s techniques of composition and text setting. The author believes that this is a fine example of Gounod’s skill of “doing much with little.” This portion of the study “investigates the relation between Gounod’s personal background and the songs.” The second part of the dissertation surveys (in five subsections) the period of Gounod’s career from 1839 to 1870. This section “takes a

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide straight chronological approach to the remaining songs, but with constant reference to the style characteristics noted in the earlier song;” namely, “Où voulez-vous aller?” The author believes that it was in the nonreligious solo songs (the approximate equivalent of Lieder) “that Gounod’s skill is honed to its finest edge.” He further believes that the pre-1870 songs are “of greater interest as far as the origins of Gounod’s distinctive style is concerned.” Langevin makes some very interesting observations, including a comparison between Gounod and Ingres—the artist and director of the Villa Medici in Rome. He states: If the general similarities between Ingres and Gounod are striking, the specific technical ones are even more so. The contrast between a fluid, nuanced vocal line suggestive of textual ideas in quite real, physical ways, and an essentially immobile accompaniment is not very different from Ingres’ effect of depth within an actually rather flat surface and classically severe composition. The author believes that this “ingriste” mind of Gounod made him “rely on older poets, English ones, or on those with whom he had some personal connection.” He also believes that Gounod’s songs need a certain type of interpreter to do them justice—a singer with a distinct personality—with subtlety of voice, and the ability of an orator. Langevin quotes Leon Guichard, who indicated that the twentieth-century French baritone, Pierre Bernac was such an interpreter. This dissertation is full of lengthy quotes from primary and secondary sources in French (with the author’s English translations), and replete with many musical examples and charts when appropriate. There is an appendix, which offers a sketch of Gounod’s life in the form of a time line, and another appendix of the complete text of “Au Rossignol” with the author’s comments in the margin. Two things are curiously lacking from what is an exemplary study: an index and a bibliography.

165. Laurette, Patrick Condon. The Masses of Charles Gounod. MA Thesis, Catholic University of America, 1966. 78 p. This is a very interesting thesis, which examines twelve of the nineteen Masses composed by Gounod, omitting the early examples because they are “novice attempts.” The author offers a unique categorization of these works that he labels as follows: bourgeois, dramatic, historical, and terminal. Interestingly, these categorizations are not chronological, but rather they “reflect the various aspects of Gounod’s mentality in his masses.” The bourgeois type of Mass is the most facile and accessible; the dramatic, which includes all of the solemn Masses such as the famous St. Cecilia Mass, combines religious and secular elements reflecting Gounod’s theatrical inclinations; the historical Masses have associations with history, and include the St. Joan of Arc Mass, and the Mass of Clovis (historical

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figures and events.) The terminal Masses include the four settings of the funeral Mass (1842, 1873, 1883, 1893). Laurette devotes a chapter to each type of Mass wherein he analyzes the works in question, pointing to unique elements, and synthesizing characteristics. The “bourgeois” Masses are so-called because they are functional works, and although compositionally sound, they are (according to Laurette) “lacking in musical content.” He notes that they are all in major keys, modulation is kept to a minimum (most often going to the subdominant), they posses “a dependence on related thirds,” and triple meter is rarely used. The “dramatic” Masses employ large orchestral forces, demonstrate the use of “vocal effects” (text-painting primarily), are harmonically more daring, and display attempts at grandeur, which are not always successful. Laurette believes that, while the bourgeois Masses were functional in nature, the dramatic Masses “borrowed Romantic harmonic and rhythmic devices to achieve a dramatic church music that would rank with contemporary conceptions of Berlioz and Liszt.” The “historical” Masses were, according to the author, “the result of a deepening of both patriotic and pious feelings.” These Masses date from the post-Franco–Prussian War period—a time when nationalistic feelings were running high. The historical Masses depended upon “emotionalism that the nature of the subject brought.” Both the historical and the terminal Masses “tended to be more contemplative, expressive in a way that was not actually dramatic.” In these works Gounod reached back to the music of Palestrina for inspiration—something he had not done since his early compositions for choir written during and after his Prix de Rome days. In conclusion, Laurette believes that the Masses of Gounod are a direct result of the following components of his own personality: bourgeois, dramatic, and of course, religious. The author continues to suggest that since Gounod’s Masses were of little consequence musically, they were at least compositions that would receive performance and communicate to the “unsophisticated.” He further suggests that the bourgeois element, which pervaded Gounod’s musical nature, was not compatible with religious music. This study is the first and only complete treatment of Gounod’s Masses in English. It is well organized, and it offers some interesting analyses. The introductory material offers an insightful explanation into the composer’s life and times, and cites important biographical information when appropriate. 166. Lowe, David. “Gounod’s Faust and Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita.” Russian Review 55 (1996): 279–286. The author indicates that the purpose of his article is to: examine the libretto for Gounod’s Faust as a source of compositional motifs for The Master and Margarita; to analyze the purposes to which Bulgakov puts those motifs; and, lastly, to reach some conclusions about the overall significance of Gounod’s opera for Bulgakov’s novel.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide Admitting that the author Bulgakov’s love of Gounod’s opera “verged on the fanatical,” Lowe explores the “motifs” (as he calls them) that the author introduces into his novel. Two of these from Act III of the opera are the effect that the jewels have on Marguerite and her devotion to Faust. The book also contains a ball, just as the opera contains the de rigeur ballet. In the novel Bulgakov draws on Gounod’s Faust in three ways according to Lowe: first by retaining the dance, secondly, Mephistopheles (like Woland in the book) hosts the ball, and finally, the guest list for Woland’s ball consists of those who lived and/or died for love. Lowe believes that there are at least two major reasons for Bulgakov drawing upon Gounod’s opera: 1) he intended the allusions to the opera to conjure up the spectacle of theatrical effects, and 2) which the author believes more important, Bulgakov’s motifs from Gounod underline the central theme of transformation.

167. Macy, Carleton. Musical Characterizations in Selected Faust works: a Study in Nineteenth-century Musical Rhetoric. DMA dissertation, University of Washington, 1978. 344 p. This work is examined above in the first section of the study entitled General Studies. See item #44. 168. Magliocco, Hugo. An Analysis of Two Masses According to their Expressive Content and the Principles of the Motu proprio. MS Thesis, University of Tennessee, 1960. 58 p. This thesis compares Gounod’s Messe Solennelle de St. Cécile with Antonio Lotti’s Mass in B-flat in light of St. Pius X’s Motu Proprio on sacred music from 1903. The document in question—in the Pontiff’s “own words”—advocates a return to a more “pure” style of sacred music as exemplified by Gregorian chant, and it enjoins contemporary composers to eschew theatrical and popular music styles in the composition of religious music. An English translation of the Motu Proprio is included in one of the appendices to the study and offers the reader the entire document for consultation. St. Pius X’s writing addresses a number of elements of contemporary sacred music, including the use of “appropriate” instruments, the demeanor of the choral singers, and of course style, among other things. It clearly states that women should not be in liturgical choirs in that they are “incapable of exercising” a “real liturgical office” within the celebration of the liturgy. With all of this in mind, the author examines the selected compositions in comparison with the elements set forth by the Pontiff, and it is little surprise that, while Gounod’s Mass setting compliments the text and is full of “expressive content,” it does not adhere to the directives of the Motu Proprio, and therefore, it is “not acceptable for use as true liturgical music.” In one sense, this is stating the obvious, in that the liturgical document indicates that all sacred music should avoid “theatrical” musical elements—including extended solos, percussion

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instruments, and unnecessary repetition of text. The example by Lotti is more “acceptable” for liturgical use, according to the directives, because “there is nothing inherently reminiscent of the profane style of romantic opera.” Again, this seems obvious in that it is an example of the more traditional, “classical” style of Renaissance polyphony espoused by the document. It would have been a more interesting and perhaps useful study had the author compared contemporary liturgical compositions to demonstrate how composers of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries either followed or did not follow the dictates of St. Pius X’s Motu Proprio. Also, a more in-depth explanation of the genesis and purpose of the Motu Proprio on sacred music would have been welcomed, as it comes after the composition of Gounod’s Mass, which was still in use at the time. Gounod’s Mass setting—as well as those by Mozart, Haydn, and Schubert, to name a few—were all included on the Church’s blacklist of inappropriate settings, which was a result of the Pontiff’s declaration. While in general terms this is an interesting study, there are several ways it falls short of being as informative as it could be, and the author does not address some important issues which would give the reader a deeper understanding of the subject. 169. Mannoni, Gérard. “Genèse de l’oeuvre.” L’avant-scène opéra (1976): 8–11. This article touches on the history of the beginning of Faust. Among the most popular operas written (with over 2400 performances at the Garnier alone), Faust also is one of the most recognizable: the figure of the devil, the demented Marguerite, and Faust himself. It also contains some of the more memorable music in opera too: the Jewel Song, Valentine’s famous “Avant de quitter ces lieux,” and, of course, the garden scene. Mannoni traces Gounod’s fascination and perhaps obsession with the Faust legend in Goethe’s original version. The composer was acquainted with it (by his own admission) as early as 1838, and he took the volume with him on his excursion to Italy and Germany during his subsequent Prix de Rome studies. The Walpurgis Night sequence in the opera may have been inspired by Gounod’s late night walks in Capri. The author also traces Gounod’s initial desire to compose an opera on the subject back to 1852 when he was interviewed in a German newspaper. At that point he leaked his intention of composing an opera, Faust. Mannoni indicates that the composer reused some passages of music from the “Dies Irae” of the Requiem (1842) and from Ivan le terrible (1855–57), although he does not cite any specific examples. The production of the opera was not without stumbling blocks. The well-documented problems with the initial cast of the opera in 1858, added to the tension of the premiere. The author includes in his discussion various lengthy quotes from Gounod (to Bizet regarding the first rehearsals), and Saint-Saëns; however, he unfortunately does not footnote them. Other elements of the work are discussed, such as the contributions

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide of Carré and Barbier to the libretto, an all too brief analysis of the three main characters (although this was not the point of the article), the later replacement of dialogue with recitatives, the addition of the Valentine’s famous aria (Avant de quitter ces lieux) in 1863, and the further addition of the ballet sequence in 1869.

170. Mathias, Paul. “Faust en musique, ou, ‘Demandez le programme ...’” Recherches et travaux 39 (1990): 71–91. ISSN 01518534. At the beginning of the article, the author states that the reader will not find a comparison of the different Faust legends with Goethe’s account. Rather, he indicates this article concerns the complex and ambiguous relationship between the spectator of opera and the performance in which the listener is assisted by simple things to understand the literary and music culture in an “esthetico-historic combination.” With this said, the article largely offers a description of Berlioz’s La Damnation de Faust and Gounod’s opera Faust with some interesting insights and opinions of these works. The author points to various scenes from Goethe’s Faust that were omitted in Berlioz’s treatment, and mentions others that have corresponding elements to the model. Sections of La Damnation, which Mathias finds particularly effective, include the song, Le Roi de Thulé and Marguerite’s Romance from the last part of the work. Regarding the characters of this musical drama, the author points out that Berlioz chooses to condemn Faust and only acquits Marguerite, comparing her “revalued” status to the romantic view of Mary Magdelene. In addition, Berlioz’s handling of Faust concentrates more upon the character’s disenchantment with his search for knowledge and his despair with the world, and less with the more “theatrical” transformation of Faust into a young, seductive man—thus eschewing the magical elements of the story. Mathais indicates that Berlioz was greatly impressed by the 27 lithographs of Delacroix on the Faust legend and therefore his setting of the story is more so a succession of tableaux which work together to form a whole, “in the spirit and sensibility of the viewer-listener.” Gounod—according to Camille Saint-Saëns—prepared for quite a while to compose a setting of the Faust story. (The book was a constant companion of Gounod during his Prix de Rome sojourn in the 1840s.) For this reason, the author believes, that “without a doubt,” Gounod’s treatment of Faust is “closer to the canvas furnished by Goethe.” This is most notably detected in the role of minor characters, the use of scenes, and of specific textual references. Gounod is also able to connect to his contemporary audience, which he does with Marguerite’s famous waltz and Siebel’s romance, which (in Mathais’s opinion) is not any different than the sentimental romances sung in the bourgeois parlors of the day. Likewise he connects with a folkloric element in Marguerite’s ballade of the Roi de Thulé, thus “assuring the fame of the melody.” After much description of Gounod’s opera, the author draws some comparisons between the treatment of the story by

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Berlioz and Gounod. Unlike the Marguerite of Berlioz, Gounod’s Marguerite is more than acquitted—she is redeemed; and Faust “falls on his knees to pray.” He is not damned. In closing, the author points to the more symbolic treatment of the story by Berlioz, and the more dramatic (and faithful) representation of Gounod; however, both composers “valorize” the person of Marguerite. While Berlioz treats his story in a tableau setting, Gounod not only follows more closely the “program constituted by the legend inherited by Goethe, but also the exigencies of a particular public ... the public of the opera.” 171. Murphy, Kerry, editor. Charles Gounod, La nonne sanglante: dossier de presse parisienne (1854). Heilbronn: Musik-Ed. L. Galland, 1999. 167 p. ML410.G71C52. ISBN 3925934421. The opera La nonne sanglante presents a unique conundrum in Gounod’s oeuvre: why was the opera such as failure? This collection of reviews from a variety of journals and papers (including the Catholic supported La Gazette de France, La France musicale, Le Journal des Debats, the Revue de Deux Mondes, La Presse, and Le Ménestrel, to name some of the more well-known periodicals) attempts to address this issue. The editor posits that, despite the rather good box office receipts (averaging 6100 francs per night), there had to be other circumstances and perhaps the periodic press would reveal this. Actually, what the reviews in the press do reveal is the overall success and positive appraisal of the work that the individual writers offer. The score is often described as being “magnifique” and the performance was likewise judged as being “très-remarquable.” The overall impression of the reviewers was that the performance was a great success and Gounod was consistently congratulated on the “grand et légitime succès” of his “musique remarquable.” According to Murphy, “there is little in the critics’ comments that suggest that they felt Gounod’s music was in any way deficient in aesthetic merit.” Therefore, with these obviously positive reviews, why was the opera pulled from the stage after only a few performances? Murphy believes that it was a combination of “diva politics” which tended to rule the opera house, and the change in the opera house’s administration. The new director—Crosnier—declared that he would not allow such “rubbish” to remain in his house. This is supported not only by Gounod himself (in his Autobiographical Reminiscences) but also more contemporaneously by Andrew Gann in his article from 1993 (see item #151 above.) To this end, the favorable reviews contained in this collection support the supposition by both Murphy and Gann that there were extenuating circumstances that literally drove Gounod’s opera from the stage, and none of them had anything to do with the quality and popularity of the music itself. This is an extremely valuable collection of primary source materials, which offers a reappraisal of this unique and littleremembered work by Gounod.

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172. Musée Pierre-de-Brun et des Alpilles. Le Souvenir de Gounod à SaintRemy-de-Provence: Exposition organisée à l’occasion du centième anniversaire de la composition de Mireille 1863–1963. Saint-Remy-deProvence: Musée Pierre-de-Brun et des Alpilles, 1963. ML 410.G7S18. This is a brief but very interesting item that combines a souvenir program for a performance of the opera Mireille, which took place on August 3, 1963 with the orchestra of the Opera Marseille to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the composition of the opera. More interesting than the program is the typewritten catalogue raisonné of the items on display at the museum in St. Remy. Marcel Bonnet composed an introduction to the exhibition which included letters to and from Gounod during the composition of the opera (many of which are in personal collections), photographs of Gounod, Mistral, and others involved in the creation of the opera, archival photographs of various performances of the work throughout its history, and other divers items peripherally related to the opera and its performances. Some of these important items are mentioned specifically in the Appendix 3 at the conclusion of this study, which deals with correspondence of Gounod. 173. Northcott, Richard. Gounod’s Operas in London. London: The Press Printers, Ltd., 1918. 48 p. ML410.G71N87. This brief volume begins with an introduction to Gounod’s life that admittedly omits the composer’s relationship with Georgia Weldon. The author indicates that it is “unnecessary to refer to the Weldon controversy.” This section of the monograph also includes excerpts from reviews in the London Times, the Daily Telegraph, the Musical Times, and the Birmingham Post. After this section, there follows a history of the composer’s opera Faust that especially chronicles English performances of the opera (again quoting from local periodicals of the time). This section also includes a discussion of fees and performers. The remainder of the book takes each opera individually—Faust, Roméo et Juliette, Philemon, Mireille, La Reine de Saba, Le médecin malgré lui, Cinq Mars, Sapho, and La Colombe—and mentions the performers, the elements of production, and discussions of the English adaptions as appropriate. This source is valuable in its detail of English productions of Gounod’s operas, while it really offers no new information on the composer himself. 174. Noske, Frits. “The Bourgeois Mélodie: Charles Gounod.” In French Song from Berlioz to Duparc, trans. Rita Benton, p. 159—186. New York: Dover Publications, 1970. 454 p. ML2827.N613. ISBN 486221040. The author begins his discussion of Gounod’s songs by making some general observations about structure, prosody and melodic line, and the accompaniment and harmony. He indicates that formally Gounod follows “established paths” and has a predilection for strophic or modified-strophic

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forms. However, often times he includes instrumental preludes and postludes to avoid tedium. There are also instances where Gounod employs a “scene-type” style for a song that finds it roots in the operatic tradition. It is really in the setting of texts that Gounod excels and that is why Saint-Saëns considered him the “savior of French prosody.” He pays attention to the correct delivery of the French language by means of durational accent, melodic accent, and dynamic accent, according to Noske. All this and he still composes natural, fluid, organic melodies, praised by his biographers and critics alike. Insofar as his accompaniment is concerned, Gounod is less cuttingedge. The piano is almost always subordinate to the voice, and while its music remains characteristic of the instrument, there is enough variety to keep it interesting. Noske notes that Gounod primarily uses a single melodic or rhythmic figure (usually arpeggios or repeated chords) as the basis for a given accompaniment. There are two aspects of Gounod’s harmonic language that are unique and that the writer believes deserve attention: the use of pedal tones to create momentum, and the use of repeated chords against each harmonic note often resulting in dissonances which are fresh and at times surprising. The author concludes his study on Gounod’s songs by examining several specific songs to demonstrate the composer’s contribution to the genre. He reminds the reader that the melody added to Bach’s prelude from the Well Tempered Clavier was originally set to a poem of Lamartine, Le livre de la vie, which was only later replaced by the “Ave Maria” text. Noske identifies the influence of Schubert and Mendelssohn (whom Gounod had met during his Prix de Rome days) with specific examples. While in general terms Gounod’s songs are rather conservative in many ways, his music exerted an important influence over the next generation of French composers, most notably Bizet, Massenet, Saint-Saëns, and Fauré. It is Gounod’s synthesis of Germanic influences and his close attention to the setting of his native language that resulted in the beginnings of a truly French style of song composition. This chapter is very informative and a fine introduction to Gounod’s contribution as a composer of songs. This is an area of study that requires further investigation. 175. Ollone, Max d’. “Gounod et l’opéra-comique.” Revue musicale 140 (1933): 303–308. In addition to the brief discussion of Gounod’s style and contribution to the genre of comic opera, d’Ollone also offers his views on the composer himself, of whom he believes the “style is the man.” The author feels Gounod’s general nature and personality were strongly influenced by Lamartine, Lacordaire, and Mozart; and because of this, his nature was exempt from “habitual contradictions and sad dissonances. For him [Gounod], to live was to admire and to love.” Because of this personality and because as d’Ollone believes, that Gounod and his style are synonymous, he was often superficially judged. However, the author posits that actually, because of Gounod’s personality and nature, he was able to

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide succeed in the genre of comic opera, which was so “profoundly French.” Other characteristics, which enabled his success, included his ingenious sense of orchestration, and his “light and picturesque style.” Despite his natural abilities and inclinations toward the genre of comic opera, d’Ollone does not understand why Le medecin malgré lui and Mireille have not become staples in the repertoire, and to explain this, he points to specific virtues of these works. In closing, the author briefly addresses Gounod’s influence on the succeeding generation of composers, including Bizet, Lalo, Delibes, Massenet, Saint-Saëns, and Fauré. However, he believes that Gounod’s influence on these composers also generated from his songs, religious music, and his operas. D’Ollone believes that Gounod should be ranked in the highest level of nineteenth-century comic opera composers, and that the composer is important in the “evolution” of the genre “that led from La dame blanche to Carmen, to Manon, to Le roi malgré lui, to Faust ...” This statement is most intriguing; however, the author unfortunately does not explain exactly what he means.

176. Payne, Darwin Reid. “A Detailed Analysis of a Text: The Church Scene from Gounod’s Faust. In Scenographic Imagination p. 133–145. Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1981. 294 p. PN2091.S8 P354. ISBN 0809310104. The author begins with a detailed analysis of the text of the church scene from Faust. Payne believes that the director cannot merely read the libretto, but that s/he must also listen to the music to have a meaningful experience with the text. He argues that the work could successfully be updated from the period in which it was set because he believes that the original story was weakened by the “sentimentality” of the period in which it was composed. For his interpretation Payne chooses the time period of roughly the years after World War I, because the expressionist painters Nolde, Kirchner, and Kokoschka inspired him. The stage designer uses as his point of departure for this scene the intense web of carnal love, disillusionment, betrayal, murder, and insanity. He feels that the church scene—wherein Mephistopheles appears to Marguerite—will convey Marguerite’s inner emotions and turmoil. Not only does he use the lighting and the blocking of the action to convey this, but also the set design and its movement and symbolism. He takes the scenographer through various steps, from concept and ideas to finished product, in this essay. Payne also considers larger issues in his examination of designing the set for this scene; namely, how does the church scene relate to other scenes in the opera, and how can it play a larger role in Marguerite’s story. He cleverly decides that (with slight modification) it can be used as her prison later in the opera and that finally, it can also be used as the set for her apotheosis. The essay is a must-read for anyone studying set design, stage direction, and especially opera design. It is clear, useful, and artistic. Payne offers helpful directions and suggestions, as well as

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sketches and models of the scene with instructions on lighting, and movement. 177. Prévost, Paul. “De l’eglise des Missions étrangères à la cathédrale de Faust: Notes sur la pensée et le style de Charles Gounod.” In Le Théâtre Lyrique en France au XIXe siècle, p. 137–162. Metz: Editions Serpenoise, 1995. 353 p. ML1727.4T374. ISBN 2876921936. This is an exemplary article that analyzes the church scene in Gounod’s Faust. The author finds that the composer creates something unique and innovative by his use of a non-traditional church scene. Throughout Grand Opera, scenes have been set in churches, for coronations, funerals, and for quasi-ritualistic events; however, Gounod uses the church scene in Faust in a more personal way—for contemplative prayer. It is the place where Marguerite faces her demons (quite literally) to much dramatic effect. After giving a brief history of Gounod’s religious background, the author examines the traditional use of church scenes, and then sets about identifying the various musical themes heard in Gounod’s example. One theme represents the “tragic halo,” another theme represents “the Church,” while yet another symbolizes “Marguerite’s anguish.” With seven themes identified by Prévost, he demonstrates the great diversity of musical variety contained in the construction of this scene: free, lyrical melodies, more “conventional” melodies, psalmody with choral accompaniment, recitative, and orchestral motives which are “treated and exploited” in different ways each time. The author is then able to exhibit, in graphic formats, the organization of the scene. It is arranged, according to Prévost, in a triangular shape—with the most dramatic tension (the choral psalm) coming at the apex. He also indicates how the various themes work together in another graph. This is an extremely interesting article which applies an innovative analytical method resulting in a better understanding, both musically and dramatically, of this unique scene in Gounod’s Faust, a scene which while appearing on the surface to be traditional, is actually quite avant-garde in its dramatic conceit and musical form. 178. Reliquet, Philippe. “Les avatars du mythe de Faust.” Avant-scène opéra (1976): 6–8. This article begins with a brief history of Dr. Faust—a German magician and astrologer—who was first mentioned between 1480 and 1549, and it continues with a short chronology of other literary depictions of Faust, most notably those in the Lutheran Volksbuch (1587), P. F. Gent’s English account in 1588, followed by Christopher Marlowe’s The tragical history of Doctor Faustus. This article is subdivided into three sections: Renaissance du mythe, Le Faust romantique, and Le Faust des bourgeois. In the first section the author notes that the “myth” of Faust began to reappear in the late eighteenth century and reached its pinnacle with Goethe’s Faust, the first part of which appeared in 1808. He also notes that Goethe

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide introduced new dimensions into the character of Faust, and in the second part (from 1827–1832) Goethe added the redemption of Faust and a number of “mythological evocations.” In the second section of the article, the author identifies two main themes that captured the “romantic” artists— namely the idea of the Gothic and all that it implies, and the joining of two great stories, Faust and Don Juan. (Unfortunately he does not make the connections with Mozart and his Don Giovanni with Gounod’s Faust.) Much of this connection is made because of Faust’s seduction of Marguerite. The final portion of the article explores the connection with Barbier and Carré’s libretto for Gounod, which the author believes creates a bourgeoisie portrait of Faust, in keeping with the Second Empire of Napoleon III. It is this section that deals more with Gounod’s opera, and mentions also Liszt’s Faust Symphony and Berlioz’s Damnation of Faust.

179. Rustman, Mark Manfred. Lyric Opera: A Study of the Contributions of Charles Gounod. Ph.D. dissertation, University of Kansas, 1986. 456 p. The author indicates that the “nomenclature lyric opera is neither well understood nor well defined” and that his dissertation “attempts to discover the origin of the terminology and to define it comprehensively, in conjunction with an examination of Gounod’s lyric operas.” To that end Rustman examines Gounod’s Grand Opera, Sapho, his comic opera Le médecin malgré lui, and then he dedicates entire chapters to Faust, Mireille, and Roméo et Juliette examining their libretti, the music (melody, harmony, form), orchestration, and recurring themes. Rustman concludes that the term lyric opera attempts to describe operas with traits related to the two more traditional genres, opéra comique and opéra. He also posits that Gounod’s lyric operas influenced not only the next generation of French opera composers (Bizet and Massenet) but also Tchaikovsky and Puccini as well. Rustman identifies six elements common to all of Gounod’s so-called lyric operas: each literary source includes a love story between two young people; the opera tends to emphasize the heroine; each takes place in an exotic setting that is preserved in the libretto; the presence of the supernatural is maintained in the libretto; Gounod employs a number of “reminiscent themes” recurring throughout the work; and each work employs a vocal declamation “carefully oriented to the text.” While recognizing that these elements are not totally unique, Rustman believes that “their particular combination or synthesis contributed to the new genre,” and influenced succeeding generations. 180. Sadeghpour, Mitra Margaret. The English Songs of Charles Gounod: The London Years (1870–1874). DM thesis, Indiana University, 2003. 114 p. MT4.S125. This is a very fine appreciation of not only the song production of Gounod during the time in question, but a helpful introduction to the general historical period, as well as the social issues present in the last decades of the

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nineteenth century. The author states that one of the reasons this repertory has received such little attention is because Gounod himself seems to have “attached little importance to his songs.” Another reason, she posits, is that there is still much disagreement as to Gounod’s importance in music history. In early chapters, the author explores French music and song during the Second Empire and the ramifications of the Franco–Prussian War on the arts. In addition, Sadeghpour also examines the Victorian ballad and the state of English song repertory and its style. There is also a chapter dedicated to Georgina Weldon, who was simultaneously Gounod’s muse and his malediction. Many of Gounod’s early biographers often ignored Mrs. Weldon, as being either too scandalous or distasteful to discuss. The fifth chapter of the study deals specifically with the songs from this period, offering a table, which gives the title, poet, date, and publisher of each of the 41 songs. Some of these songs appear in a French version as well as English. The analyses of these songs are rather broad and somewhat limited. While it was obviously not the intention of the author to give individual in-depth analyses of individual songs, Sadeghpour nevertheless makes some interesting observations regarding harmonic progression, formal design, and attention to text setting. The author believes that in his English song repertory, Gounod “was able to create a body of original songs featuring a wide variety of styles and poetry that met the needs of the rising Victorian middle class.” And while his music was a hit with English audiences, many of his songs “employed high-quality poetry and a musical complexity and subtlety not always present in the Victorian ballad.” The author suggests that part of Gounod’s reason for writing these specific pieces was financial, while following in the trend of popular English ballad composition. Appendix A is a listing of the poets of Gounod’s English songs in alphabetical order, and Appendix B is a listing of duets and nonEnglish songs from 1870 to 1874. Appendix C includes scores of three of Gounod’s songs: “The Worker,” “My True Love Hath My Heart,” and “The Arrow and the Song,” which demonstrate various compositional techniques and styles employed by the composer. Over all, this is a very valuable study that should inspire more research into Gounod’s song repertory and that of other contemporary composers. An appendix offering manuscript sources would have been a helpful addition. 181. Saint-Saëns, Camille. “The Manuscript Libretto of Faust.” Musical Times 62 (1921): 553–557. http://www.jstor.org/stable/910006 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. This is a fascinating article in which Saint-Saëns describes the libretto manuscript of Faust that was given to him by Gounod—at which time or on what occasion the composer could not remember. Saint-Saëns rightly believes this source to be not only interesting but valuable as well, for it contains “numerous musical annotations written in the margin, thus giving us the first spontaneous thought of the composer.” With this said,

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide Saint-Saëns begins by discussing Berlioz’s treatment of the story in his Damnation of Faust which contains many sections that are of Berlioz’s own devising. The author addresses the original intention and form of the libretto written for the opéra-comique with dialogs, and believes that this format was “delightful” and well received by the public. Saint-Saëns’s main focus in this article is the differences between the libretto with Gounod’s marginalia and the original published form of the opera. He draws our attention to the fact first of all that Gounod “appreciably abridged the monologue of Faust” in the very first scene. The ensuing trio between Faust, Wagner, and Siebel found in the libretto was not set to music, and Saint-Saëns admits that he does not know if music was ever written for it. Some of the more interesting divergences mentioned by the author include the melodic form of Marguerite’s “Air des Bijoux”—“Ah, je ris de me voir si belle.” In the marginalia Gounod sets the melody with octave leaps at the end of the phrases, and includes melodic sequences that do not appear in the final version, in addition to what Saint-Saëns calls “unnecessary modulations.” There is also a florid passage on the word “demoiselle” which also does not appear in the final version. These musical passages, along with several others, are reproduced in the article. Elsewhere in the libretto Gounod cuts various verses of some of the numbers, including couplets sung by Lise, and an aria intended for Marguerite “Il ne revient pas” (which according to Saint-Saëns was cut and restored on several occasions) was also finally suppressed altogether. Also included in the margins of the libretto is a melody for Siebel, “Versez vous” in compound triple meter, which was not used and which SaintSaëns believes is “preferable to that which we are acquainted” in the score. One of the more interesting omissions is in the prison scene wherein Marguerite originally appears as a mad woman. Saint-Saëns indicates that this approach, along with a “greater part of a long duet between herself and Faust” has “disappeared.” Not only is this article very important in the genesis and understanding of Gounod’s opera, but also the actual libretto itself is an invaluable resource for Gounod studies.

182. Samama, Guy. “Gounod et la mythomanie de l’occident.” L’avant-scène opera (1976): 4–5. The author suggests the following hypothesis in this brief article: “the Romantic West seizes upon personages and preexisting legends, to legitimize a violence and intolerance in essence originally religious and finally political.” He believes that this legend can be interpreted taking many approaches, such as, phrenology, animal magnetism, thaumaturgy, and sorcery, as well as the conflict “opposing man and the profound nature of his destructive aspirations.” With this said, Samama draws connections between the Faust legend and that of Don Juan, indicating that Faust is another Don Juan who uses women for pleasure, he also uses time, strength, and science. Further, the author believes that the perenniality of

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Faust is in the two archetypes: the fall of the son, and fire as manifest in the devil—Mephistopheles. Although this article is brief, it is thought provoking and deserves to be considered carefully when analyzing or discussing the opera Faust. It would be interesting to consider this connection between Faust and Don Juan more deeply regarding the opera, given that Mozart was arguably Gounod’s favorite composer, and that his opera Don Giovanni was also close to Gounod’s heart. 183. Scudo, Paul. “Faust, opéra en cinq actes de M. Gounod.” L’année musicale (1860): 127–143. Scudo’s appreciation of Gounod’s Faust takes issue with several things from the very beginning. The author believes that it was quite a feat to take on so lofty and complex a subject as Goethe’s Faust. He believes Goethe’s version is less a theatrical piece than it is a poem, “mixed curiously with sentimentality and abstraction, with naïve lyricism and a metaphysical profundity.” With that said, Scudo mentions various musical versions of the story form Spohr and Schubert to Berlioz and Liszt, along with several lesser-known contributions by Prince Radziwill, and Mlle Louise Bertin. From here, the author examines Gounod’s opera act by act, concentrating upon what he viewed to be weak or unsuccessful elements. He finds the music sung by Mephistopheles to be, by and large, not complimentary or befitting his character. He compared the character with Gaspard in Freischütz and found him lacking. The quartet between Faust, Marguerite, Mephistopheles, and Martha, Scudo believed owed a great deal to Mozart, but lacked unity, and did not fit the “profound sentiment” of Goethe’s original. Scudo complains of Gounod’s sense of musical vagueness in his score, but never is able to be more specific than this, which leaves the reader puzzled. It would appear that Scudo was not pleased with Gounod’s subtlety of melodic style: he complains that the love duet between Faust and Marguerite was more of a “free and passionate dialogue” rather than a real duet. He also found that the church scene, in which Marguerite is tormented by evil spirits when she attempts to pray, was not as profound as the original version by Goethe. In closing, Scudo states that Gounod created an eminently distinguished work that could not come to grips with the “vast conception of the German poet.” The majority of his criticism seems to come from his inability to separate the musical conception and changes necessary to make a concise musical expression of such a lengthy and complex literary model. One cannot expect this opera (or any other for that matter) to be a wholly faithful representation of Goethe’s original, to so do only invites disappointment and misunderstanding. 184. Shaw, George Bernard. “Art Corner.” In Shaw’s Music: The Complete Musical Criticism in Three Volumes, vol. 1, 1876–1890, p. 298–301. London: Max Reinhardt, The Bodley Head, 1981. ML60.S5175. ISBN 0370303334.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide In this brief review from Our Corner of December 1885, Shaw discusses a performance of Gounod’s Mors et Vita which received its premiere that same year. Shaw is generally complimentary of Gounod’s ability as a composer. Shaw believes that he has “exquisite taste,” that his music demonstrates “fastidious workmanship,” and that the composer possesses “an earnestness that never fails him.” However, Shaw criticizes the Frenchman for being “romantically pious” and therefore, because of this, “it follows that he is not a deep thinker.” He believed that Beethoven, Schumann, and Berlioz were great musicians and thinkers, whereas Mendelssohn (like Gounod) was not. Some of Shaw’s negative criticism includes the great length of the work, the fact that the portion entitled “Somnus Mortuorum” sounds like Juliet’s sleeping music in Roméo et Juliette, and that the resurrection is set “as if it were a ballet.” The keystone of Shaw’s argument with Gounod’s oratorio is that he believes “men grapple with the problems of life and death in the nineteenth century in another fashion,” and that while Gounod’s religious music is “beautiful,” “refined,” and possesses “delightful” instrumentation, it is a “child’s conception of the music of angels.” In closing, Shaw believes that the composer is “a puerile thinker,” and the critic must “deny that [Gounod] is a great composer whilst admitting the loveliness of his music.” This review juxtaposes two disparate views of religious music and attempts to look beneath the veneer of the subject matter to get at the heart of the musical substance and taste.

185. Shaw, George Bernard. “Mors et Vita.” In Shaw’s Music: The Complete Musical Criticism in Three Volumes, vol. 1, 1876–1890, p. 391–394. London: Max Reinhardt, The Bodley Head, 1981. ML60.S5175. ISBN 0370303334. This review originally appeared in The Dramatic Review on November 7, 1885 after a performance of Gounod’s oratorio in the Royal Albert Hall. Shaw believed the work to be a bore. One of his main criticisms is its length—he indicates that the “four leading motives ... are reiterated ad nauseum,” and “its very sweetness” is its disadvantage. He indicates that the work is “a Requiem Mass with a Paradiso appended to the Inferno.” Other problems Shaw had with the work include the feeble attempt to portray the trumpets of the last judgment. He says: “Imagine a half dozen cornets playing the augmented triad in chords and fanfares; and connect that with your idea of the last trumpet if you can.” He also believes that the work is “naively inadequate to the subject as a medieval miracle play or mystery.” Continuing, he finds Gounod’s portrayal in music of “the Supreme Judge” (God) irreverent and absurd. Despite his issues with the oratorio (and there are many), Shaw admits that Gounod’s orchestration and partwriting are “impeccably beautiful” and “there is not one miscalculated effect.” The critic also feels that “all is clear, smooth, articulate, harmonious and in exquisite taste.” Apparently, just not in Shaw’s taste. In

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closing the author mentions that the chorus “A custodia matutina usque ad noctem” is one of the “gems of the work.” 186. Shaw, George Bernard. “The Redemption at the Crystal Palace.” In Shaw’s Music: The Complete Musical Criticism in three volumes, vol. 1, 1876–1890, p. 460–464. London: Max Reinhardt, The Bodley Head, 1981. ML60.S5175. ISBN 0370303334. This review first appeared in The Dramatic Review on May 8, 1886. In his review, Shaw speaks in musically literate terms and demonstrates that he listens carefully to the music, and is not just full of glib and droll remarks. His comments are thoughtful. In this instance, Shaw levels the same criticisms against the The Redemption that he did against Mors et Vita the previous year. He found it to be “an extremely tedious work, not because any particular number is dull or repulsive, but because its beauties are repeated ad nauseam.” He also criticizes Gounod for making the Redeemer more like Romeo (a tenor) when “he could have at least made him as impressive as Friar Laurence (a bass.) Addressing the English predilection for oratorio, especially those of Handel and Mendelssohn, Shaw believes that Gounod “does not express his ideas worse than Handel” it’s just that Gounod “has fewer ideas to express.” The critic thought that Gounod put too much “sugar” in the work for the palate of British Protestants, but the audience “behaved much like a church congregation, stolid, unintelligent and silent.” Even though Shaw leveled so many criticisms against the work, he admitted the oratorio was graceful, harmonious, smooth, delicate, refined, and handsomely sentimental, albeit in a rather tongue-incheek fashion. It is apparent from Shaw’s review of this work and Mors et Vita that his own distaste for religion and possibly religious music may have colored his ability to be a truly subjective reviewer. 187. Smither, Howard E. “Charles Gounod, La Rédemption.” In A History of the Oratorio, vol. 4, p. 584–600. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina, 2000. 829 p. ML3201.S6 v. 4. ISBN 0807825115. This discussion of Gounod’s oratorio is found in the chapter on French oratorio, which also includes an examination of music by Berlioz, SaintSaëns, Franck, and Massenet. The analysis begins with a brief biography of the composer with information drawn primarily from Harding’s book (#101), Gounod’s Autobiographical Reminiscences (#202), and Prod’homme’s monograph on Gounod (#117.) After this introduction Smither examines the oratorio in detail with many musical examples throughout. He draws special attention to the unique elements of the work, such as Gounod’s use of Gregorian chant melodies (Vexilla regis and Stabat mater), the use of a recurring melodic theme, which the composer himself identifies as “a melody typical of the Redeemer, both God and Man,” and the use of programmatic music throughout the work. The author also notes that Gounod’s melodic writing in general for the soloists

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide is rather simple, plainsong-like, and austere. This he believes is the composer’s attempt to approximate “the simplest style of recitation tone sung in the Roman Catholic liturgy.” Likewise, Smither indicates that Gounod reserves the more negative and violent music for the bass soloist (the revolt of Adam and Eve, the condemnation of Jesus, etc.), and the more peaceful and “essentially positive music” for the tenor voice. The choral writing is also simple—perhaps a reflection of Gounod’s desire to eschew a more theatrical style in church music? However, that is not to say that the choruses are dull. Smither points to several examples of interesting, and even dramatic, choral writing that would be quite effective in performance. The influences of both Bach and Mendelssohn are mentioned, but no specific examples are cited. Regarding the overall form of the work, the author notes that the “libretto relates to the tradition, which began with Handel’s Messiah, of oratorios on the life of Christ.” Other interesting features of La redemption include the use of programmatic orchestral sections, descriptive notes written in the score (such as the Angel’s salutation to the Virgin Mary), and the essentially operatic style of using the soloists and choir as the dramatis personae. Smither’s examination of this work is both enlightening and interesting, but a more detailed analysis of Gounod’s contribution to the genre is still needed. While it was quite successful during its day it has now fallen from the repertory; however, Smither believes that it is possible that the work might “find favor” today in some parts of the U.S. and England.

188. Soubies, Albert and Henri de Curzon. Documents inédits sur le Faust de Gounod. Paris: Fischerbach, 1912. 69 p. 782.1G7415. This monograph is in four sections. This first part contains a lengthy table comparing the financial receipts of Faust with other operas at the Théâtre Lyriques from March 19, 1859 to December 31, 1859. Other notable operas performed during this time were Mozart’s Les noces de Figaro and l’Enlèvement au Sérail, Gluck’s Orphée, Abou Hassan of Weber, and works by Délibes, Deffès, and David. This is important not only as documentation of Faust, but by the information it offers regarding repertory and musical tastes of the Parisian audiences at that time. The author explains the various gaps between performances. Some were due to the indisposition of singers, while others were because of war in Italy and the unsuitability of the tenor Guardi (Gruyer). However, despite all problems the opera averaged 3,146 francs, with a total of almost 41,000 francs during the entire year. The second section examines the original and unedited version of the opera. It contains commentary on various scenes and elements of the drama that are different in the original source, beginning with Carvalho’s added description on the title page of the work which states that the opera has a “prologue, with 14 tableaux and ending following the formula played at the Théâtre Lyrique on 17 November 1858.” The authors comment upon various changes in text, including the addition of

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the “ronde du Veau d’Or,” the dialog between Marguerite and Faust in Act II, scene 10, and the omission of a ladies chorus in Act III. These and several other differences are compared to the final version. One special change is the last scene, which is quite different from the final version. The monologue of Marguerite was “radically cut.” The third part of the monograph discusses productions of Faust at the Théâtre Lyrique du Châtelet and at the Renaissance. Here the authors discuss various singers who performed from 1859 to 1911. Also some of the box office receipts from the Châtelet are given from 1862 to 1868 for a total of 248 performances. Some of the noteworthy singers listed include the famous baritone Faure as Mephisto, Adelaide Patti, Nellie Melba, Mary Garden as Marguerite, and Jean de Reszké as Faust. The final section briefly chronicles the history of Faust as performed at the Opéra, including some of the great singers, and information on box office receipts. This book includes various rare photos of famous cast members, drawings reproduced from other sources, and cover pages of Délibes’ piano vocal score for both the first edition and the third edition, which contains the recitatives. 189. Tebaldini, G. “Gounod autore di musica sacra.” Rivista musicale italiana 1 (1894): 67–85. Published in the year just after the composer’s death, Tebaldini argues in this article that, while much has already been written concerning Gounod’s biography and criticism of his works, especially the operas, comparatively little has been said about his significant body of sacred vocal music: Masses, Latin motets, and religious songs with texts in both French and English. While the study touches upon the general characteristics of Gounod’s vocal composition for the Church, primary focus is given to the stylistic analysis of several of the composer’s better known Masses, specifically the: Messe solonelle de Ste Cécile; Messe aux Orphéonistes; second Mass for men’s voices; Messe brève in C major; Messe solonelle no. 3 de Pâques; Missa angeli custodes; Messe à la mémoire de Jeanne d’Arc; and the Mass for the beatification of J.B. de la Salle. Tebaldini explores, through the Masses, the opinion that Gounod did not so much hold fast to a specific and firmly set “credo artistique.” Rather, the author finds in each work certain elements and characteristics that are peculiar and unique. Taken together, these help postulate a sense of Gounod’s sacred vocal style. He notes Gounod’s study of the works of Palestrina during the composer’s sojourn at the French Academy of the Villa Medici, as well as Gounod’s interest in Gregorian chant. On the other hand, Tebaldini points out that only rarely does Gounod use “true vocal polyphony” (vera polifinia vocale) in his compositions for the Mass. Even so, such influences of medieval and renaissance musical languages serve to lend an air of mysticism to several of the works, most notably the Mass for Easter. Other influences, according to Tebaldini, range from J.S. Bach (the author sees a relationship between the ‘Domine Deus’ from the Missa

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide di angeli custodi and the fugue in C-sharp major from the Well-Tempered Clavier); to the heraldic calls in Wagner’s Lohengrin (compared to the “Christe’ from the Messe Jeanne d’Arc); to Gounod’s own operatic masterpiece Faust (the ‘Gloria’ of the Messe de Pâques). Also examined are Gounod’s uses of orchestral effects, chromaticism, and dissonance over pedal points, and sectional forms. The author points to occasional irregularities in Gounod’s scansion of the liturgical texts as well as the liberty he takes in closing some movements with an ‘Amen.’ Yet in conclusion, Gounod’s sacred vocal music is viewed as a superior alternative to what Tebaldini sees as the “triviality of sacred music as practiced in Italy (“la trivilalità della musica sacra come si è praticata in Italia”).

190. Weldon, Georgina. La Destruction de Polyeucte de Charles Gounod. Paris, 1875. 31 p. ML410.G7.W45. This brief volume contains documents—letters to and from Gounod and explanations on Weldon’s part—regarding the operas Polyeucte, Georges Dandin, and other manuscripts that Gounod left at Tavistock House when he returned to France. This incident raised the ire of many in the Parisian musical world, and did little to win Weldon any sympathy there or in London. As always, she portrays herself as the wronged one, and she also implies that she was acting in concert with Gounod’s wishes. She offers as her evidence that Gounod had given her and her husband permission in the past to act as his representative in England regarding other works, such as Roméo et Juliette, and that the proceeds of Gounod’s setting of a song in memory of Dr. Livingston were given to her orphanage. This is a unique and valuable primary resource, which is extremely useful in helping to untangle the rather convoluted events in Gounod’s relationship with the Weldons.

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191. Feder, Georg. “Gounod’s Meditation und ihre Folgen.” In Die Ausbreitung des Historismus uber die Musik, p. 85–122. Regensburg: Bosse, 1969. LM196.S75, vol. 14. Feder provides a probing and comprehensive investigation of one of Gounod’s most popular works, the Méditation sur 1er Prélude de Piano de S. Bach. The author views Gounod’s inspiration for the work as stemming from a nineteenth-century “Cult of Bach” (Bach-Kultus) to which Gounod was likely introduced by Fanny Mendelssohn whom he had heard at the piano in Rome during the winter of 1840–41. Gounod’s respect for Bach’s genius would remain constant throughout his career, and even include Gounod’s own 1870 edition of some 152 chorales (Choix de Chorals de Jean Sébastien Bach, annotés par Ch. Gounod/Orgue ou Piano). First appearing in 1853, the Bach/Gounod Méditation was initially scored for piano, solo violin, and organ ad lib. Feder discusses the alterations that Gounod made to Bach’s original work. Almost immediately arrangements of Gounod’s Méditation quickly began to appear for piano solo (1853), in an orchestral and choral adaptation (1856), and most interestingly in a vocal arrangement set to the text of a poem by Lamartine “Le livre de la vie est le livre supreme” (1853). Gounod followed suit by publishing his own vocal arrangement, famously setting the Ave Maria text, in 1859. Feder recounts the first performance of the work in this form as well as the early re-workings by other composers. Later arrangements of the Méditation include those by Georges Bizet, Ignaz Moscheles, and Max Reger. Feder examines these along with numerous other imitations and related works, mostly by lesser-known composers. He further includes a discussion of the reception-history of Gounod’s Méditation in Germany and its influences through the start of World War I, at which point he sees the end of the “romanticized” Bach movement. 192. Lalo, Charles. “Sur la musique pure et impure Bach et Gounod.” Revue musicale 198–202 (1946.) 244–247. This brief article addresses the idea of absolute music as manifest in Bach’s first prelude from the Well-Tempered Clavier, and its transformation into a

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide piece of music which, because of Gounod’s addition of a melody and text, now has extra-musical meaning. Lalo believes the original composition is the most pure composition written, and its simplicity is nothing short of miraculous. It possesses the “highest serenity” but not a “moral serenity.” It is “a dynamic architecture ... a crystalline colonnade which supports nothing.” However, Gounod has made it into an artistically impure piece with his arrangement. With the addition of the sacred text and Gounod’s melody for that text, the prelude is no longer an example of art for the sake of art. Gounod has added to the piece non-musical elements associated with the opera house (vocal melody), where music is associated with love, sentimentality, the picturesque, drama, and choreography. In closing, Lalo indicates that Gounod is not totally wrong to strive to be on the side of the numerous amateurs of “impure” musical expression to adapt absolute music, as his admiration for Bach is no doubt sincere. However, his sincerity is more “sentimental than musical.” He has created a “hollow egg.”

193. Locke, Ralph. “The French Symphony: David, Gounod, and Bizet to Saint-Saëns.” In The Nineteenth-Century Symphony. New York: Schirmer, 1997. ML1255.N5. ISBN 002871105X. This chapter discusses the French contribution to the symphonic genre during the nineteenth century and concentrates primarily upon what Locke describes as the “more major composers.” However, the early portion of this chapter examines the works and contributions of Félicien David, Charles Gounod, Hector Berlioz, Georges Bizet, and Camille Saint-Saëns. In his introductory remarks, the author observes that in the middle of the nineteenth century there was no single French composer who was as influential as Beethoven, Rossini, Wagner, or Verdi; but rather, there were “middle-of-the-road” composers such as Auber and Gounod, whose music demonstrated a “stylistic synthesis” that was acceptable to the public. He also notes that during this period many French composers approached the symphony in one of two ways: in the more traditional style (based upon late Beethoven, Liszt, and even Wagnerian orchestral models), or in the more avant-garde style of programmatic symphonic literature. Whichever approach was taken, Locke indicates that the best of these works is “richly characterful and dramatic, as one might expect from a nation that prized opera above all other musical genres.” Before investigating specific works by various composers, the author addresses the causes for the reestablishment of the genre in France. The aristocratic patronage of the Ancien Régime helped establish the symphony as an important form of musical expression (see the music of Gossec and Simon Leduc); however the revolution of 1789 ended that. It was not until the impresario, François-Antoine Habeneck, introduced the Société des Concerts du Conservatoire in the 1820s that the genre regained its health. Locke traces a variety of concert societies and organizations that helped to nourish the French symphony of the mid-nineteenth century, and

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how—given the ever-increasing importance and popularity of Wagner in France—some of these organizations were not sympathetic to their own national trends. In this chapter of the book, the author also addresses Félicien David’s contributions to the “descriptive” symphony, and mentions—though not in detail—the blends of symphony and oratorio that were popular in France and that he believes inspired works such as Schoenberg’s Gurrelieder, Debussy’s Le martyre de Saint-Sébastien, Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf and American compositions including Copland’s A Lincoln Portrait and Bernstien’s Kaddish Symphony. Locke devotes only a brief passage to the symphonies of Gounod, and he mentions them in the same breath as Bizet’s solitary, youthful offering, the Symphony in C. This is not surprising, given Bizet’s association with Gounod and the influence the elder composer exerted upon him. The author indicates that most of the mid-century composers wrote symphonies primarily for one of two reasons: as a student exercise or as a “yearning” in the middle or end of a composer’s career to “compose music that can at once give pleasure and be taken seriously.” While Bizet’s symphony is characteristic of the former, Gounod’s two symphonies are characteristic of the latter. As Gounod himself said, he composed his two symphonies “to console” himself after the failure of his opera La nonne sanglante. Perhaps because of the recent operatic fiasco, Gounod also desired to create a musical work that transcended the mundane; after all, he believed symphonic (and religious) music to be the “highest” form of musical expression. While Locke concentrates, by his own admission, upon the “major” composers of the genre, it would have been welcome to have a more analytical investigation of the symphonies of Gounod, Bizet, David, and others who not only helped to revive this genre in France, but who also left some extremely important and worthy examples for posterity. There is still much more work to be done on this subject, and given some of the manuscripts at Northwestern University and elsewhere, there is a need for an investigation of the sources and the compositional process of these symphonies. It is worth noting that, despite its chamber music design, the Petite symphonie for wind instruments of 1885 is not discussed at all. 194. Mueter, J. A. “An Unpublished Cadenza by Gounod for Mozart’s Piano Concerto KV 491.” Current Musicology 34 (1982): 26–41. This article describes in detail and reproduces the cadenza written by Gounod (held in the library at the Washington State University library) ca. 1881 for the Mozart concerto. According to the author it came into the possession of the Princess Czartoryska, an exemplary pupil of Chopin, who on his deathbed made her promise to “play Mozart in my memory.” The article chronicles the princess’s benefit concerts on behalf of the Ruthenians in Budapest and elsewhere, which ultimately involved Franz Liszt. The manuscript of the cadenza—though not autographed by

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide Gounod himself—does bare the inscription of the princess to the conductor Mikuli, another student of Chopin and a pianist in his own right, indicating that it was composed by Gounod. Mueter indicates that there was a concert on April 9, 1881 in Vienna in which the princess played some music of Chopin, and Lizst accompanied her in a movement from Chopin’s F minor concerto. However, the concert that is mentioned in the inscription on the MS of the cadenza took place six months later in Lemberg. The author posits that the princess may have played Mozart’s concerto with Gounod’s cadenza for the first movement, which would certainly have justified her presenting the manuscript to Mikuli. While the author cannot confirm this, he does raise some interesting points: first, that the manuscript is more than likely a first copy (because of some of the idiosyncrasies); second, that due to the presence of fingerings in the MS it was obviously learned, if not performed; and finally, that this concerto of Mozart did not contain a cadenza written by the composer himself. In closing, the author briefly examines the musical style of the cadenzas of Mozart that exist, and compares this one by Gounod more or less favorably with them. This article is important in that it not only offers a reproduction of the cadenza by Gounod, but it also chronicles the relationship of the pianist (Princess Czartoryska), the conductor (Mikuli), Franz Liszt, and the composer of the cadenza, Gounod.

195. Parnes, Samuel Will. A Survey and a Catalogue of the Piano Works of Charles François Gounod. M.A. Thesis, University of California, Los Angeles, 1983. 268 p. LD791.8.M9. An extremely fine examination of the over 200 piano compositions of Gounod, this thesis is not only a comprehensive catalogue of these works, but it is also a rather detailed statistical analysis of Gounod’s compositional traits. Parnes examined nineteenth-century periodicals and monographs, library catalogues, manuscripts, and publishers’ catalogues in order to document these compositions. Also addressed is the question of authenticity of Gounod’s piano music, because piano arrangements of his vocal music were often made, but not by the composer, and sometimes the composer himself changed the title of a piece (as well as its dedication) and published it again. Parnes chooses to divide the composer’s piano oeuvre into two main periods, pre-1870 and post-1870, noting that his musical style remained chiefly unchanged throughout his career. Of the published works, the author identifies three main types of character pieces popular with Gounod; namely, marches, musette-like works, and other dances. Gounod’s unpublished works are more varied, including sonatas, a set of variations, transcriptions derived from his symphonies, and the only pedal-pianoforte concerto in history. Parnes believes most of these unpublished works date from pre-1850—that is before his “St. Cecilia” Mass (1855) and Faust (1859). The author’s statistical examination probes deeper than style and title, he categorizes musical forms, meter,

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and keys. He finds that Gounod most often employs simple ternary forms (one-quarter of the pieces), which is followed by binary, strophic, and rondo forms, respectively. This is not really surprising in that most of the character pieces are dance forms and marches. For the song transcriptions mentioned above, Gounod exclusively employs strophic structures. Parnes notes that while these musical forms are rather simple, they are found in irregular or hybrid designs. Meter and key signatures are equally as straightforward. The author finds that one-third of the pieces are completely or partially in 4/4 and that 6/4 is only found once; likewise (and no doubt because of the number of waltzes) simple triple meter is prevalent. Metric changes occur in less than one-quarter of the pieces. The keys typically favored by Gounod include F major and D major, with 14 examples of each, and less than one-quarter are in minor keys. This detail is typical of the author’s approach to his subject, and he uses the same scrutiny when examining authenticity of various works and the problems encountered in cataloging Gounod’s piano music. The thesis concludes with the catalogue, which divides the works into dated and undated pieces. The dated pieces are listed chronologically and then they are subdivided into pieces that are originally for (or believed to be originally for) piano, and those works that are piano versions of other compositions. For each entry in the dated works, the author gives the title, date, manuscript location and number (when known), the dedication, the publisher and publisher’s number. Sometimes Parnes offers notes regarding the pieces, such as the form, the key, the meter, and the like. The second larger group (undated pieces) is more difficult to address. These works are subdivided into four sections: undated works; works believed to be original; piano versions of other works; versions whose musical content corresponds with original piano works; and, versions whose musical content corresponds with dated piano versions of other works. In conclusion, the author posits that Gounod’s piano music is neglected for two reasons: the extinction of the pedalpianoforte and the demise of the salon. This music, according to Parnes, “often catered to a specific audience who regularly attended both salons at wealthy residences and recitals in small halls.” This style of music— according to the author—“lacks the bravura typical of the pieces expected at the major recitals of the period ... ” and it did not possess “the combined bravura-lyricism of music by Chopin.” Despite this, Parnes believes that Gounod’s piano music is worthy of revival because, while not intended for virtuoso display, it does contain some unique harmonic elements (nonfunctioning dominant seventh chords, use of Neapolitan chords), and distinctive musical techniques (fugal development, choral-like textures). Also, Gounod’s gift of lyricism is on par with that of Chopin, Schubert, and Mendelssohn, whom he much admired. This study is a very welcomed analysis of music that clearly needs to be reexamined, and it is likewise a paradigm for studies of this type.

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196. Shanat, Howard. “Bizet’s Suppressed Symphony.” Musical Quarterly 44 (1958): 461–476. http://www.jstor.org/stable/740708 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. In this article the author examines the important similarities between Bizet’s Symphony in C, and Gounod’s Symphony no. 1 in D major. He shows, with the support of musical examples, how the young Bizet modeled his fugal development section in movement 2 after Gounod’s, even down to the detail of the order of the entrance of instruments, and the character of the melody. Shanet points to other technical similarities in that movement as well as those in the Scherzo, which includes a drone in the Trio and striking similarities in the overall melodic material. Likewise the finales are “remarkably alike in several aspects.” The author indicates that Bizet’s symphony was composed during October and November of 1855, while Gounod’s was premiered in February of that year, and heard on several occasions until April of that same year. The full score of Gounod’s symphony was published in September 1855, and Bizet himself was commissioned to arrange the work for piano four hands that same year. Shanet believes that Bizet used Gounod’s work as a model perhaps as a student exercise, or because the master’s work was extremely popular due exactly to some of the unique technical elements that Bizet incorporated in his own work. The author further posits that Bizet suppressed the work for fear that the same critics who praised Gounod’s for its original methods, would criticize Bizet for imitating them. It must also be remembered that as a composer Bizet lived in the shadow of Gounod for some time. The author rightly suggests that while Bizet followed Gounod’s model, he “did not lose his own personality.” This is a fine examination and comparative analysis that, with more space, could have gone even deeper. It is also an important addition to the study of the nineteenth-century French symphony. 197. Smith, Rolland. “Charles Gounod and the Organ.” The American Organist 27 no. 10 (1993): 54. ISSN 0164–3150. About half of this brief article offers some basic biographical information on the composer, followed by a discussion of his career as an organist and church composer. Smith lists all of the composer’s organ works with brief descriptions or explanations of the circumstances for their composition and publication. However, there is no real analysis or critical appreciation of any of these works. The quotes from some primary source materials bring the subject to life, and the concluding works list of organ pieces is helpful. This article is an interesting introduction to the organ music of Gounod for those who are not aware of its existence.

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198. Bertier de Sauvigny, Emmanuel de, editor. Quelques photographies et lettres de Gounod, Massenet et Saint-Saëns. La Jourdane: Société de musicologie du Languedoc, 1980. ML410.G7A4. These letters are between Gounod and Elisa Mols and her family, and are a testament to their friendship, which lasted for almost 30 years, up to Gounod’s death in 1893. Many of the letters are between the composer and Elisa’s daughter, Léonie, who married Ernest Osterrieth. According to the editorial introduction to these letters, many celebrities visited the Osterrieth family home in Anvers including Gounod, Liszt, Massenet, and Saint-Saëns. Ernest Osterrieth was a businessman of importance in Anvers. After his premature death, his wife, Léonie turned her attention to charity work and being a patroness of the arts. These letters are simple expressions of friendship, and one can see the very strong and tender affection between the composer and this family. This correspondence does not reveal any important biographical information on the composer, nor does it directly refer to any of Gounod’s compositions. Despite this, anyone who is serious about having a deeper understanding of the composer and his life should be familiar with this correspondence. A number of these letters were written in connection with Gounod’s many visits to the family’s summer home in Nieuport. a. Addressed to Léonie Osterrieth, June 24, 1879. This is a simple note of thanks. He indicates that he is not budging until the end of July and that he can be reached at his address on Malesherbes (Paris). He will then be going to visit Léonie’s mother at her villa in Nieuport. Gounod also hopes that Madame Osterrieth’s heart condition does not permit her from being “as fresh and radiant as the roses in her garden.” b. Addressed to Léonie Osterrieth, April 22, 1880. In this letter Gounod indicates that his son will be getting married on Monday, and that the family is “all tired out.” He is looking forward to the time in Nieuport in the summer. He gives his love to the family.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide c. Addressed to M. Elisa Osterrieth, September 27, 1880. Gounod writes to explain that he will not be leaving for Morainville until Thursday and he will remain there until Sunday. While there his address will be the Chateau de Morainville, Calvados. He indicates that he has written Elisa’s mother at Nieuport, but does not know if the letter has yet reached her. d. Addressed to Léonie Osterrieth, October 14, 1880. Gounod indicates that he has just finished his ballet. Which ballet he does not say; however, given the date of 1880, it is possible that it is the ballet music for Le Tribut de Zamora which was first performed in 1881. Gounod indicates it is the last letter he will write her this year from Morainville, and he begs her to write with news of her parents, grandfather, Uncle Alfred and her children, for he finds the details “dear and precious.” He indicates that he has done much work on the ballet— modifying and recomposing, but that is part of the vocation. In closing, Gounod admonishes Léonie to study her Bible for it is the only book that “responds categorically to the fundamental questions of our nature.” e. Addressed to M. Elisa Osterrieth, November 14, 1880. Gounod thanks Elisa for her letter and tells her that his brother-in-law is “out of danger for the moment.” His health has returned. This letter continues to offer other bits of information such as he recently received a letter from Amanda, and that Elisa’s “excellent smoked beef” was one of the delicacies on their table recently. He includes a curious statement: “I hope that our “projet de mir” for December will succeed.” Several of his letters comprise these secretive comments, which perhaps ultimately make sense only to the recipient. f. Addressed to M. Elisa Osterrieth, December 29, 1880. Gounod writes to tell Elisa that she will be receiving a book by Fenélon. He indicates, “you will find in this volume great and beautiful ideas, dressed in a admirable style.” He thanks her for her letter and that he will try to visit Robin; however, he passed a very bad night with an “intolerable pain in the neck” which he attributes to the cold. g. Addressed to M. Elisa Osterrieth, January 2, 1882. Gounod indicates that he is “all tired out;” however, he tells her that her “new dear and charming notebook” has arrived and that his wife (Jeanne) is touched by the souvenir. h. Addressed to M. Ernest Osterrieth, May 1882. This is an excerpt of a letter from M. Mols to her daughter in which she indicates that there is a musically talented young American woman who gave a concert with Gounod and Georgina Weldon, and “she was very astonished that Madame Gounod was so impolite.” M. Osterrieth was at Gounod’s home where she found that “the poor man was in bed.”

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i. Addressed to M. Elisa Osterrieth, July 12, 1883. Gounod writes this letter for Elisa’s mother who has been struck down with a migraine; however, she is still counting on Elisa’s visit on Saturday. According to Gounod, Dr. Rommelaese is trying everything possible to come on Saturday also. He himself must leave on Monday. j. Addressed to Léonie Osterrieth, December 30, 1888. This is a very brief note indicating that their letters crossed in the mail, and Gounod says that he received her “dear souvenir.” k. Addressed to M. Elisa Osterrieth, June 18, 1892. This brief letter of Gounod from St. Cloud indicates that “your dear souvenir” arrived today from Paris where he has not been for 15 days. This letter—written the year before his death—still demonstrates Gounod’s “tender” fondness for the Osterrieth family. 199. Broussais, Marie. “Correspondances.” Culture et Patrmoine, Special issue 1984. This issue contains various letters from Gounod to Rose Depecker Gentil, which are held in the collection of Mme Raymond Haurie-Gentil. In general, these letters are warm and affectionate and date from August 1892 until August 1893, just months before the composer’s death. Rose Depecker was a gifted pianist who (prior to marrying Emile Gentil) won awards from the Conservatoire in solfege, piano, harmony, accompaniment, and first prize in counterpoint and fugue. In addition to the letters contained in this article, the author also offers information regarding some performances of Rose Depecker in which she played the C major fugue based upon Gounod’s theme dedicated to her, and the author gives some insights into Gounod’s criticism of counterpoint lessons of René Franchomme, and accounts of other fugal subjects supplied by Gounod for examination (1882 and 1892). In closing, Broussais quotes from Henri Busser, companion, student and friend of Gounod who was with him when he died. Busser states: I knew Gounod in the last years of his life, I had the chance to be his student, to have not only his counsel but to be able to speak with him about all sorts of things, painting, music, architecture. It was he who gave me the inclination to go to Rome, because he spoke of the School of Rome with enthusiasm. Gounod loved the young ... he was interested in Charpentier, Debussy, Bruneau. All that was new interested him. He is for me the greatest musician of the century. He invented the French song. A discussion of the letters to Rose Depecker follows below; they are rather paternal and touching, at times they also contain some sage advice and philosophical views.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide a. August 15, 1892, from Montretout-St. Cloud, Seine-et-Oise. Gounod thanks Depecker for her nice letter and indicates that he will be in Normandy from the 22 until the 17 of September; he gives her his address there. In addition he admonishes her to use her holiday wisely: rest from past work to prepare for future work. b. November 23, 1892. Here, Gounod indicates that Depecker can always find him between 5:30 and 7, and he tells her that when she comes she must bring the fugue that he gave her during the summer, and he will show her one from a set of six fugues that he has dedicated to her. c. April 11, 1893. Gounod was “infinitely touched” by her letter, and he indicates that he does not have the manuscript for the Preludes and Fugues that he dedicated to her—he only has a copy. d. April 17, 1893. Gounod shares with Depecker that Saint-Saëns has arranged his “suite” concertante for two pianos, and also a version for piano and orchestra; he tells her to come when she can and bring the edition for two pianos. e. April 19, 1893. He mentions to Depecker that if she comes today with the two-piano arrangement of the “suite” concertante, she will notice some corrections that he was “very surprised” that he had to make. Gounod also mentions that there is a version of the work for piano solo made by Pierné. f. August 22, 1893, St. Cloud. Written just months before his death, this letter is tender and somewhat philosophical. He thanks Depecker for her “affectionate” letter, and tells her to “listen to and look at the sea ... It is one of the great voices of God down here, just as the stars above on the beautiful nights.” Gounod also admonishes her to “be filled up with poetry, it is a form of adoration; it is the wings of humanity.”

200. Gastoué, A. “Un manuscrit inconnu: un cours de composition de Gounod.” Revue de musicologie 20 (1939): 78–82. http://www.jstor.org/ stable/925055 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. In the papers of M. René Edouard André is found an oblong folio that forms the basis of an instructional book on counterpoint, fugue, and composition that Gounod developed for his young pupil René Franchomme, son of the great cellist. According to the author of the article, who examined the source, it dates from 1853 to 1856 and addresses details of species counterpoint. This pedagogical tool follows the traditional methods one would expect; however, what is interesting are the valuable explanations

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and comments Gounod makes throughout. The author includes some of these in the article. There is also some discussion of orchestration. The young student’s work with Gounod was cut short by his premature death. 201. Gounod, Charles. “L’Allaitement Musical.” Le Ménestrel (Jan. 22, 1882): 57–59. This article by Gounod first appeared in the journal Le nouveau-né (The Newborn), dedicated to the development and education of newborn babies, clearly a unique journal for the time. As the title suggests— “Musical nursing”—the article deals with Gounod’s thoughts on early music education. His mother—whom he uses as a model—supplied him with a musical education while an infant, which he firmly believes is what led him to a successful career in music. Gounod recounts how his mother taught him music just as one would a language, and he makes this argument very strongly. He states: “Music is therefore a language; it has all the characters, it is read, it is written, it is taught and transmitted.” Some of the anecdotes the composer shares include how his mother trained his ear with sound, as one would with words. This enabled him to recognize various songs and even intervals, such that he could, as a child, determine the key of musical compositions merely by hearing them played or sung. His mother had a musician, M. Jadin, come to the house to meet the young Gounod. After his interview with the composer, Jadin pronounced the child “well enough ready for music.” As a further test, Gounod was taken to the middle of the room and turned away from the piano where Jadin played successive notes, asking the child to identify them. Despite the modulations at the keyboard, Gounod was able to—without error—tell the musician what he had played. Gounod tells these stories to illustrate the power of early musical training, which he in no uncertain terms advocates. This is an important article, not only for its investigation of childhood musical education, but because it also offers some valuable early biographical information on Gounod. 202. Gounod, Charles. Autobiographical Reminiscences with Family Letters and Notes on Music, translated by W. Hely Hutchinson, London: Heinemann, 1896; reprint, New York: Da Capo Press, 1970. 267 p. ML 410.G7 A313. ISBN 306710811. This is an English translation of his Memoires d’un Artiste published in Paris in 1896. In this book Gounod writes about the “most important events in his artistic life, of the marks left on his personal existence, of their influence on his career and of the thoughts they have suggested to his mind.” Most of the stories are anecdotal, including recollections of his youth, his trip to Italy and Germany during the Prix de Rome, and the premiere of his first opera Sappho. These stories reveal Gounod as a firstclass raconteur. His writing style is straightforward and honest, although at times rhapsodic and poetic. This insightful volume also reveals some of

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide the composer’s philosophy on music and aesthetics. Especially interesting are the essays on Berlioz, Saint-Saëns, nature and art, the artist and modern society, and the Academy of France in Rome. This volume is a rare, first-hand glimpse of Gounod’s philosophy on music and society. There are 14 letters reproduced in this volume written during the 1840s and 1850s, and from 1870 to 1871. These are discussed individually below. a. August 21, 1842, to Hector Lefuel from Gounod in Vienna. In this letter Gounod speaks of the Mass he wrote and had performed in Rome at San Luigi de Francesi for the King’s birthday and that it is to be performed again in Vienna on September 6. He also speaks of being “up to the eyes” in a Requiem for full orchestra which will “probably be performed in Germany on November 2.” Gounod is hoping to obtain a performance of the work in Berlin through Mendelssohn. He misses Rome and speaks of the “lasting impression” Venice made upon him. b. November 19, no year, to Gounod from Hector Berlioz in Paris. He praises Gounod’s choruses for Ulysse, which Berlioz indicates “have considerable merit and the interest of the music rises as that of the drama intensifies.” He especially thought the double chorus was “exceedingly good” and that it “will make a powerful effect if properly performed.” Berlioz also believes that the quality of the music will be enough to draw an audience to the performance. He advises Gounod “do not give an inch on the matter. Get all you want or take nothing at all.” Berlioz warns him to be careful to whom he gives solos, as “one bad singer will utterly spoil the chances of a whole song.” Noticing a mistake in the score, he calls Gounod’s attention to it. c. No date, to Hector Lefuel in Paris, from Gounod. In this letter Gounod announces his engagement to Agnes Zimmerman. He praises the Zimmermans for their goodness and kindness. d. August 28, 1855, to Monsieur Pigny1 in Paris, from Gounod. He thanks Pigny for his kindness to his mother upon her move to the country. Gounod was away at this time, and Pigny helped her with her move. e. September 4, 1870, to Madame and Monsieur Pigny, from Gounod in Varangeville. In this letter he confesses to his brother-in-law that if the Prussians are victorious in the war with France, he could “never have courage ... to go on living under the enemy’s yoke.” He believes that given the Emperor’s captivity, Gen. MacMahon’s defeat and the loss of some 80,000 troops, his fist duty is to get his family (mother, wife, and two children) to the safety of London.

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f. No date, to the Pignys from Gounod at 8 Morden Road, Blackheath, London. Here Gounod (now in London) laments the peace proposals of Prussia—“a crying shame.” He grieves the war dead and remarks that “the glory nowadays ... is won by machinery rather than by men.” The composer shares how the English have been most hospitable to them and that “kind friend Brown has shared our trouble.” In this letter Gounod really pours out his heart in anguish over the French defeat and the “barbarism” of the human race. g. October 12, 1870, to the Pignys from Gounod at 8 Morden Road, Blackheath, London. Gounod finds out from a previous letter that his in-laws are stranded in France, as the Sous-Préfet of Dieppe has posted an order “forbidding any Frenchman under sixty years of age to leave the country.” Gounod indicates that if Pigny is forced to take up arms, then he will return and join him in the fight. Gounod jokes about what a poor shot he is, but he would return to help his country nevertheless. He questions if France will emerge a republic after all is over. h. October 19, 1870, to the Pignys from Gounod [no place given.] He and the family are on their way to the Crystal Palace to see the fountains with Mrs. Brown. However, despite this, Gounod continually thinks of France and how the heroic soldiers “fall into the jaws of that huge automaton, that monstrous hydra-headed artillery.” He laments the 3,000 men “cut up, to the last man, in a desperate hopeless defence of the Orleans railway station.” i. November 8, 1870, to Edouard Dubufe2 from Gounod at 8 Morden Road, Blackheath Park. Gounod admits to being somewhat depressed—“I cannot let myself pine and dwindle any longer in endless, hopeless sorrow.” He is resolved to getting back to work, either by selling compositions or teaching if need be. He thanks his nephew, Guillaume, for his letters and how much they mean to his grandmother and himself. Gounod expresses concern for how the horrors the little boy has experienced will affect him later. j. No date or place, to the Pignys from Gounod. The armistice, negotiated by Thiers, has broken down. Gounod expresses his desire to be “useful”—he wishes to “make a desperate appeal to my powers of work, to my duty, to my usefulness.” It was during this time that Gounod composed his opera Polyeucte and the overtly patriotic Gallia. k. December 24, 1870, to the Pignys from Gounod in London. On Christmas Eve, Gounod again laments the horrors of war and the socalled “progress.” He posits:

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide What is progress, but the onward march of intelligence, in the light of love? And what has this century done, I will not say for the pleasure, but for the happiness of the human race? Napoleon I. Napoleon III. William of Prussia. Waterloo! In what scene of ruin shall we meet? He looks back on the century as one of bitterness and war. l. December 28, 1870, to Edouard Dubufe, from Gounod [no place given.] This letter is very introspective and shows Gounod at perhaps his most depressed in this series. He laments: “If the tree should be judged by its fruits ... we must admit, considering what it has brought us to, that human wisdom has gone sadly astray.” He continues: “For all things proceed from each other, here below; truth and falsehood each have their inevitable consequences.” m. March 16, 1871, to Berthe Pigny3, from Gounod [no place given.] This is a response to her previous letter informing the family that Mrs. Zimmerman died. He is obligated in London until May 1, or the family would have returned to Paris, he says. While he likes England, it is not his France, and despite his being there, he says: “I shall live and die essentially a Frenchman.” n. April 14, 1871, to Pigny, from Gounod in London. In this letter Gounod waxes philosophical about liberty, which “is no dream; it is our Canaan, a true land of promise.” He considers the “moral gifts” humanity has been granted and how it has been “treated like a spoiled child.” Gounod defines liberty as “the voluntary and conscious accomplishment of justice.”

203. Gounod, Charles. “Considerations sur le theater contemporain.” Annales du Théâtre et de la Musique, 11 (1886). This is a very interesting and important prefatory essay in which Gounod addresses several contemporary issues pertaining to the lyric stage. First he deals with contracts or “reciprocal obligations” (as he calls them) between singers and opera houses and laments the idea of the so-called “star” system wherein various important singers present the opera house with ultimatums and “other foolish pretensions” as part of their contract. Next he addresses the issue of appointments, which are not merely “questions of budget” but can ruin a house. Gounod believes that there should be a state subvention to help opera houses and an “association” (a sort of “federation”) could regulate the “level of services rendered and the range obtained by the attraction exercised on the public.” After this discussion, Gounod proceeds on to more insightful issues; namely, the idea of houses establishing a set, stable repertory and creating a repertory theater for various opera houses. He goes further to suggest that there could be

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established a “lyric museum” which could perform opera from the traditional canon. These—performed alongside modern operas—would help educate the public’s taste regarding opera. The audiences could be schooled in what constitutes “beauty” in music and they would learn to make tasteful value judgments. In this discussion, the composer also speaks against the view of “progress” in the arts, something that writers such as Fétis advocated. According to Gounod, “the artist progresses in his art, but art itself does not progress.” Art, as the composer explains f urther, “always rests on two elements ... feeling (sensibilité) and a knowledge of technique (savoir technique).” Before concluding, Gounod addresses the idea of the claque: the group of people planted in the audience to applaud a performance. He believes that rather than using this group to indicate what is worthy of applause and attention, a “professional press” could review the work before its premiere and report to the audience about the work. Gounod, it would appear, is ready to trust the public’s perception as educated by a professional press corps. In closing, the composer makes a very good distinction between forming an opinion about music and formulating a judgment. 204. Gounod, Charles. “Les contrefaçons musicales à l’étranger.” Le Ménestrel 39 (1873): 5. This is a letter that originally appeared in the Times and was written while the composer was in London. In it, Gounod complains about various “counterfeit” musical editions which are published without authorization of composers, and which are created solely to make money for the publisher. He can speak from experience. While in London, Gounod took two publishers to court for publishing several “romances and duos” and indicating that they were composed by him, without his authorization. The editor of the article indicates that these pieces were Anglicized adaptations taken from his early operas. Unfortunately, the article is not more specific than this. In the letter (reproduced in full), Gounod indicates that there are three main “alterations” of a composition that are unacceptable “monstrosities” and that “dishonor the artistic profession” and “soil musical commerce.” These are: “changes in notes in the melodies” either by omitting parts or adding new ones; “replacing harmonic forms or rhythms in the accompaniment” or any “so-called simplifications;” and thirdly, the addition of “new words” which are not appropriate to the character of the piece or that are not in agreement with the music. In closing, Gounod believes that there should be an “artistic congress” to address these issues. 205. Gounod, Charles. “Charles Gounod Writes to his Friend, the English Conductor and Composer Sir Michael Costa.” Bach 8/2 (1977): 28–29. This brief article was donated to the Bach Institute in 1975 by Dr. and Mrs. A.B. Bonds, Jr. It is undated and addressed to Sir Michael Costa, the composer-conductor who conducted the premiere of Faust at Covent Garden.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide In the letter Gounod recommends a singer, Anna Régan to Sir Michael. He describes her as “charming a singer as she is a person” and she possesses a “very pure talent” and a “distinguished musical ability.” The young lady in question, in addition to being a pupil of M. Sabitier-Unghot, was also a chamber singer and lady-in-waiting to the Grand Duchess, HelenPavlowna, Princess of all the Russians.

206. Gounod, Charles. “Letters.” In Preface to My Orphanage and Gounod in England by Georgina Weldon, p. iv–xi. ML420.W45 A31. These letters were translated and reproduced by Georgina Weldon in an attempt to vindicate herself from the slander and what she considered to be ruinous accusations made by Gounod and even her own husband. These letters—on Gounod’s part—further shed light on his dealings with the British Royal Family and the Birmingham Festival, during negotiations for the performance of his oratorio, The Redemption, between 1873 and 1874. a. October 31, 1873. From Gounod at Tavistock House to Balmoral (one of the Royal Family’s residences). The recipient is unidentified. Here Gounod is requesting Queen Victoria’s royal patronage of the performance of his oratorio, The Redemption. He further requests her permission to dedicate the work to her. He indicates that he had desired to found “a great Institution devoted to Sacred Music” at the Royal Albert Hall, but he has been “shamefully expulsed” from his position as Founder-Director. In a very surreptitious manner, Gounod is asking for the Queen’s help to be reinstated to this position. b. November 24, 1873. From Gounod at Tavistock House to Balmoral. The recipient is unidentified. In this letter Gounod proclaims most strongly that he “neither advised, suggested, inspired, or insinuated” that Georgina Weldon write the article about Gounod’s’ quarrel with the Royal Albert Hall. He lays all responsibility squarely at the feet of Weldon. c. July 19, 1872. From Gounod at Tavistock House to H.R.H., the Prince of Wales. Gounod apologizes that the publicity for his concert did not include the information that the concert was under the patronage of the Prince of Wales; however, as the composer explains, he did not know this until the day of the concert. He thanks the prince for his patronage, and takes the opportunity to ask if the prince, along with the Princess of Wales, would consider offering their patronage to a Festival Concert organized by the Crystal Palace on Saturday, [July] 27. Gounod will be performing a Te Deum he wrote in thanksgiving for the prince’s recovery from serious illness. d. Date not given. From Gounod to Mr. Richard Peyton, Secretary of the Birmingham Festival Committee.

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Here Gounod assures the secretary that he does “not wish to interfere in the choice of vocalists to take part in the Festival generally, but that Gounod “simply require[s] to be allowed to see the performance of [his] own work entrusted to what [he] believe[s] to be the most competent hands.” Though not expressly mentioned, Gounod was trying to obtain a role for Georgina Weldon in his work, which the committee was most reluctant to do. In closing, it appears that if Gounod does not get his way, then he would not allow the performance of the work. e. July 5, 1873. From Gounod at Tavistock House to Mr. Richard Peyton. Gounod questions the concerns of the committee regarding the suitability of his oratorio. They stipulate that the texts must be from the Bible, and while Gounod’s text is from that source, he also paraphrased some of it, and includes additional material from the “early Fathers of the Church.” The composer indicates that while he has “the greatest respect for institutions,” he does not have “the least [respect] for that kind of despotism which is called custom, and which becomes routine.” He further states that he has spent his whole life “listening to thousands of arguments founded upon custom: Faust was nearly smothered by them.” However, then, as now, he has stuck to his convictions. Again, he indicates that if his text is a problem, then he would withdraw from the commission. f. June 20, 1874. From Harry Weldon at Tavistock House to Charles Gounod. At this point Gounod has returned to Paris. Weldon begs the composer to write and dismiss any of the rumors they have heard regarding his state of mind (although Weldon is not specific as to what this is). He indicates that Georgina has “slaved” for Gounod for three years “day and night, giving up all, everything” for him. He also indicates that he has a lien against his property on Gounod’s behalf (though he does not state why). Weldon asks the composer to send word—quickly—to refute Goddard’s statements regarding their “agreement.” In closing Weldon threatens legal action if Gounod has indeed entered into an agreement with Goddard. 207. Gounod, Charles. “Lettres de Gounod au Baron de Vendeuvre.” Revue musicale 153 (1935): 110–115. According to the editor of the journal, the descendents of the Baron de Vendeuvre, MM. Bourlon de Sarty, wanted to share the contents of these five letters, dated from 1844 to 1852, with the readers of the journal. They are from the early part of the composer’s life, the first while he was organist at the Church of the Foreign Missions, and the final written at the time of his marriage. These letters show the two different sides to Gounod’s personality: the sacred and profane. His early letters are rather florid and betray an almost religious mania while the later ones are quick, brief, and

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide professional, characteristic of a busy man. The final letter announcing his marriage is rather businesslike and matter-of-fact; quite a change from his more poetic and polemic letters from the 1840s. a. September 27, 1844, Meudon: In this very lengthy letter written while on summer holiday in Meudon, Gounod speaks of his ardent spirituality and his relationship to sacred music. He says: it is sacred music that especially keeps me busy and that will only keep me busy from now on. This poor sacred music was for a long time abandoned until these charitable souls come to exhume it and resuscitate it; I believe that the time has come. In this letter he also shares his intense religious devotion and his desire “to live in” God. In some ways, this letter is a declaration of Gounod’s beliefs regarding religion and sacred music. It is the result of a church musician searching his soul for his place in the universe. Gounod indicates that, “my new existence is not going to change, for the moment at least, my musical life.” He continues to say: The only difference, and very essential, that I find between life in the world and that which I am going to embrace, is that my functions as a chapel master and the performance of my music in my church does not oblige me any new revenue from the outside. b. August 7, 1847, Saturday, Montmorency: Written from Montmorency during the last month of his vacation, this letter also takes a very religious tone throughout. Gounod refers to his theological studies and indicates that after his vacation, he will be entering the Carmelites at St. Sulpice. He also states that he is sketching out a “little Kyrie for four voices without accompaniment,” while later in the letter he alludes to his setting of the Offices for Holy Week. (It is interesting that a setting of the Offices for Holy Week is mentioned in Gounod’s list of works in Grove (2001) and given the number, Op. 2 and dated approximately 1846.) In closing, he signs the letter “Abbé” Charles Gounod. c. March 3, 1851, Monday: This brief letter was written during the production of Sapho and indicates that Gounod has reserved a box for the Baron for the premiere at the end of next month. He also writes that the soloists are “captivating” in their roles, and now they must study their blocking and gestures. Gounod closes by saying he will send several passes for the dress rehearsal. d. Saturday [March 8, 1851]: Written only several days after the letter above, Gounod laments that the Wednesday evening rehearsal he attended was “detestable.” He

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also indicates that he will be leaving “in a few days” for London “on the subject of Sapho.” Gounod also mentions that his choruses for Ponsard are keeping him busy. (Gounod is referring to the incidental music he wrote for Ponsard’s Ulisse, which premiered at the Comédie-Française in June 1852.) e. April 11, 1852, Sunday: This final letter begins with the announcement of his marriage to Anna Zimmermann, daughter of Pierre Zimmermann, the professor of piano at the Conservatoire. He says that his mother is “enchanted.” In closing he indicates that he will begin rehearsals soon for Ulisse at the Comédie-Française. 208. Gounod, Charles. “Lettres de jeunesse de Gounod (1840—43).” Edited by J. Chambard. Revue politique et litteraire 49/1 (1911): 8–10. The editor reprints three letters written by Gounod while on his Prix de Rome voyage: two from Rome (April 1, 1841 and February 25, 1842) and the third from Vienna (March 25, 1843). Unfortunately, the editor does not analyze or make commentary on the letters, he merely reprints them. These letters, to H. Lefuel, Besozzi, and M. Pastoret, are discussed below in other annotations. The letter to Lefuel (April 1, 1841) is examined in 216f, the letter to his colleague Besozzi is analyzed in 217a, and the letter to M. Pastoret is discussed in 216j. 209. Gounod, Charles. “Le neuvième symphonie de Beethoven [Lettre de Oscar Comettant].” Le ménestrel 40 (1874): 189–190. Here Gounod is responding to an article in an English journal, The Orchestra, entitled “Rescoring Beethoven,” which dealt with the composer’s ninth symphony. Gounod addresses the idea of Wagner’s edition of the work, which he admits he does not know; but he indicates that any changes in Beethoven’s symphony would be like “redesigning a painting by Raphael or da Vinci.” Gounod believes that Beethoven “had such a profound knowledge, such a prodigious handling of the resources of the orchestra, the timbres and the luster of divers instruments, that I do not know why one would dream of an instant” where one would make changes. Gounod cites an instance of hearing Habeneck conduct Beethoven’s ninth symphony in Paris. The “changes” he made were not in the text, not in the instrumentation, but in “nuance”—he changed a forte to a mezzo forte—in the Scherzo movement. This change, the composer indicated, “shrouded” Beethoven’s original intention, obscuring the melody. Gounod cited another example of hearing the symphony conducted in Germany by Otto Nicolai (in 1842) where the conductor used 1200 musicians—450 instrumentalists and 750 singers. This performance he felt was “admirable” on many points—the precision of attacks, the rhythm, perfect intonation, and observation of “nuance.” It is interesting that Gounod, on one hand, advocates a more authentic or pure performance of

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide the work, but he also finds a performance that Beethoven would never have been able to achieve, musically satisfying. In closing, Gounod compliments German choral singing and the fact that “it is rare to find a family in Germany of which the members are not able to sight sing music together.”

210. Gounod, Charles. Mozart’s Don Giovanni: A Commentary. Translated from the third French edition by Windeyer Clark and J. T. Hutchinson. London: Robert Cocks & Co., 1895. Reprint: New York: Da Capo Press, 1970. 144 p. ML410.M9 G713. ISBN 306700158. Well known for his lifelong affection for the music of Mozart in general and Don Giovanni in particular, here Gounod presents an analysis of the work with one aim. He dedicates it: especially to young composers, and to those who take part in the interpretation ... It is not merely my intention to teach either the one or the other, but I have thought that in presence of beauties so profound and delicate, distributed with such profusion in this imperishable masterpiece, it would not be useless to make known and to record the impressions and emotions of a musician who has loved it unswervingly and admired it unreservedly. Gounod believes that the opera is “a work without blemish, of uninterrupted perfection,” and that it is the “finished model of dramatic music” and that it is a “wondrous example of truth of expression, beauty of form, appropriateness of characterization,” and that it possesses “deep insight into the drama, purity of style, richness and restraint in the instrumentation.” Throughout the work, Gounod proceeds in a chronological fashion, discussing most numbers (recitative, arias, ensembles) in a descriptive analysis, but sometimes bringing more profound musical observations. For example, Don Anna’s aria “Or sai che l’onore” he describes as possessing a “boldness of style, nobility of form, authoritative accent, inconsolable grief.” While commentary of this type can help the reader (or listener) grasp the general character of the music, it is far from analytical. Some of Gounod’s favorite selections include Donna Elvira’s “Mi tradi” (“a true masterpiece”), and Don Ottavio’s “Dalla sua pace,” which he finds to be “charmingly graceful and refined.” The work concludes with an appendix, the point of which is to address some specific elements of the performance of the opera. Here Gounod warns the musician to “avoid seeking for effect” by which he means “not the impression produced on the listener by the work ... but that exaggeration of accent, light and shade, and time which too often lead the executants to substitute their own ideas for those of the author.” He compares this with spoken dramas and engravings. Gounod asks: “Does an actor dare to introduce a phrase, a verse, a word of his own invention in a work of Racine or Molière? Why should the language of sounds be treated with less respect than that of words?” Good

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questions indeed. He continues this discussion with examples of musical elements (rhythm, meter, tempo) that are regularly distorted by performers (especially singers) for their own selfish purposes. While this exploration of Mozart’s opera clearly betrays Gounod’s affection for it, and the composer makes some fine observations, it is not an in-depth analysis of the work, of which Gounod was certainly capable. But rather, the style of the work is more in keeping with the descriptive analyses of the period. 211. Hôtel Drouot. Manuscrits musicaux de Charles Gounod: Vents à l’Hôtel Drouot le mercredi 27 novembre 1953 à 15 heures. Edited by Ettiene Ader and Pierre Cornuau. Paris: Hôtel Drouot, 1963. The author has been unable to locate this item to review it for the present study. However, given the subject, it is no doubt an important resource for the study of Gounod manuscripts. 212. Kelkel, Manfred. “An Article by Gounod: ‘Composers as Conductors.’” Translated by William Ashbrook. The Opera Quarterly 12, no. 4 (1996): 5–17. This article appeared in Le Ménestrel in 1873, when the composer was 55 years old, and the inspiration for its reprint in this journal was in honor of the one hundredth anniversary of Gounod’s death. Kelkel notes in his introduction that the date passed in France with out any of the major institutions marking the anniversary with any celebration. Kelkel, recognizing the importance of Gounod’s influence upon Bizet, Chabrier, Lalo, Massenet Charpentier, and Debussy, believes that this article is a valuable aesthetic statement on the part of the composer. While Gounod did not have a dual career of composer-conductor, as did Berlioz, Mendelssohn, Richard Strauss, and Mahler, he did nevertheless conduct some of his sacred music and the premiere of Cinq-Mars. This article was very likely inspired by the composer’s desire for accurate performances of his music that were faithful to his own intentions of tempo, rhythm, and dynamics. There were details that some conductors—according to Gounod—overlook and which made all the difference in interpretation. Changes in tempo and nuance, or distortions of accent could render the composition “unrecognizable.” In his article, Gounod rails against the main reasons given that composers should not conduct their own works. First, he mentions, is “the right of the conductor.” He asks, is it not the role of the conductor to interpret the composer? Music possesses “nuance, intention” and “fleeting touches” that need to be conveyed, and who better to understand and convey them then the composer? The composer has rights too. The second reason is the “dignity of the conductor.” To this Gounod responds that no conductor can know a composition more completely and deeply than the composer himself. For a composer to conduct his music does not diminish the dignity of the conductor; he can still be a fine conductor if he bows to the authority of the composer himself. The idea of the composer’s “authority” is examined

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide in the following portion of the essay. Gounod defines authority not in terms of power, but in terms of intelligence—“it is not strength that makes authority, it is light.” The authority of the composer is therefore paramount in the performance of a composition. In closing, Gounod discusses the difference between the ideal and the real. The former “draws us in by means of an attraction that develops us and raises us up; the real holds us back by means of a force that flatters our idleness and shackles us with routine.” He continues to say that “custom [such as the custom of not allowing a composer to conduct his own music] is a phenomenon of time and space; time and space have limits, truth does not.” Art should not bow to “custom.”

213. Pougin, Arthur. “Gounod écrivain. I. Gounod littéraire.” Rivista musicale italiana 17 (1910): 590–627. This two-part examination of Gounod as a writer (see also #214) begins with a rather lengthy introduction to the composer’s grandfather who was the “fourbisseur” to the king and lived at the Louvre (until Napoleon I). He was a remarkable artisan, who in turn had a son—Gounod’s father—who became a very talented painter and friend of Ingres. This introductory investigation serves to show that Gounod, the composer, is descended from a line of talented artists who were during their own day well known and respected. There are excerpts from letters included here between Gounod’s father and Carle Vernet, extracted from the periodical L’Art, which demonstrates the warmth of their relationship, and it identifies others who moved in Gounod-père’s artistic circle. The article continues with various examples of Gounod’s writings from his time at the Villa Medici. Pougin believes that Gounod was not only a “musical genius” but he was also a talented painter and a gifted writer. The author uses examples of the composer’s impressions of Ingres, Mozart, Rossini, sacred music, and other topics to show that Gounod was a “charming writer, elegant and full of grace, having the innate sense of language.” Many of the quoted examples are taken from the composer’s Memoires d’un artiste (see #202.) Pougin also examines Gounod’s Don Juan de Mozart, (see item #210) which was actually written as a lecture and delivered at the Academy. Interesting too are the investigations of other lectures Gounod delivered, included La Nature et l’Art fom 1886 (see item #202) which Pougin admits “is the type of philosophical dissertation” that totally “escapes him.” He feels it is full of “bizarre mysticism” in the style of St. Augustin, which in reality “resembles a sermon.” In another lecture, L’Academie de France à Rome (this essay is contained in item #202), Gounod defends the Prix de Rome and reminisces about his time in the Eternal City, and the great influence it had upon him. Other items mentioned in this article include the various prefaces Gounod wrote for other monographs including Berlioz’s Lettres intimes, the Soirées parisiennes by Arnold Mortier in which the composer discusses “the research of effect” in art and “the spirit of the system” regarding art. Pougin also mentions the introductory

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material Gounod supplied for his own compositions, such as Mors et Vita, Georges Dandin and La rédemption. The importance of the prefatory remarks to these works lies in the composer’s desire to explain elements of these compositions, some of which will lead to the interpretation and appreciation of the music itself. This valuable article is full of lengthy quotes from Gounod’s writings with perceptive commentary by Pougin, and this series of articles (part II follows below) offers many insights into the literary side of the composer who, though not as prolific as some of his contemporaries, was a compelling literary force all the same. 214. Pougin, Arthur. “Gounod écrivain. II. Gounod critique et polémiste.” Rivista musicale italiana 18 (1911): 747–68. This installment begins with the collection of writings by Gounod entitled Autobiographie de Ch. Gounod compiled, edited, and with a preface by none other than Georgina Weldon. This anthology of writings includes such diverse topics as the public, the critic, the material of art, English music criticism, and artistic propriety, among other things. These writings betray Gounod’s thoughts after an almost full lifetime in the public eye as a composer, and while some of the comments may appear over simple, others are, in their directness, rather profound. He laments the intrusion into the private life of a musical celebrity by every singer, violinist, budding young composer, and others who desire his help in seeking their own fame and fortune. Does fame require that one abandons his own privacy? a question on the lips of many celebrities even today. Gounod also argues in “La critique” that the critic is often wrong. He states that “one must know a great deal in order to judge,” and that being a contemporary critic is a “deadly business, rarely useful ... an instrument of vogue, obstacle of success, having no other consequence.” In this article, Pougin also offers us Gounod’s thoughts on Wagner’s music, especially Tannhäuser, Tristan und Isolde, and the Ring Cycle. He also protests the rumors that he was against Wagner. Gounod was however, neither a Wagnerphile nor a Wagnerphobe, he simply refused to imitate his musical style. Rather Gounod stated that “France is essentially a country of neatness, of concision, of taste, that is to say, opposed to excess, pride, disproportion, prolixity.” In many ways this comment cuts to the heart of the matter regarding Gounod’s own personal style. Pougin also addresses the article “Les compositeurs chefs d’orchestre” from 1873, in which Gounod advocates that composers should preside at the podium in performances of their works for the sake of rendering an accurate interpretation of the music. He accuses many conductors of being “cold and apathetic,” conducting Allegros and Adagios at almost the same tempo, or conducting in a “uniform moderato ... without character and accent, where monotony appears to be the tranquil pulse of their own indifference.” Gounod’s article “La Propriété Artistique” is devoted to the subject of the composer’s rights to his own artistic creation, and issues of editions and versions unsanctioned

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide by the composer. In closing, Pougin briefly mentions Gounod’s reviews of Saint-Saëns’s operas Henry VIII, Proserpine, and Ascanio which appeared in La Nouvelle Revue and La France. In general, Pougin offers lengthy excerpts from Gounod’s writings, which exhibit not only the composer’s insights into the subject at hand, but also betray his talent with words and his ability to communicate in a lively, vibrant, and very astute fashion.

215. Poupet, Michel. “Lettres à Georges Bizet.” L’avant-scène opera 41 (1982): 70–72. This article reproduces three letters from Gounod to Bizet written between October 1872 and January 1873. The first one, written while Gounod was in Calais, mentions the suppression of the chorus of monks and the aria of Fr. Laurent in Roméo et Juliette, in addition to other directions. The other two letters are from Tavistock House, London, and likewise deal with changes in the same opera. This brief article with the reproduction of these letters is an important source for the history of Roméo et Juliette, and will be valuable for any investigation into the various versions of the work. 216. Prod’homme, J.-G. “Miscellaneous Letters by Charles Gounod.” Musical Quarterly 4 (1918): 630–653. http://www.jstor.org/stable/737887 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only. These letters were written during Gounod’s time on the Prix de Rome trip to Rome and Vienna (1840–43) as well as letters from the time immediately following. a. Addressed to Hector Lefuel (a great friend and Prix de Rome comrade), Naples, Sunday, July 27, 1840. Here Gounod complains not only about his health—being almost incessantly tormented by violent attacks of colic—but he likewise expresses his distaste for Naples, which he finds only attractive by moonlight, and his distaste for the populace of Naples. He finds “something disgusting and repellant” about them, though what particularly he does not say. Gounod also shares his intention of visiting Pompeii, which would be most interesting to Lefuel as he is an architect. In the final portion of the letter Gounod shares with his friend that he and Bousquet have been visiting Mme. Daubrée who lives next door. The frequency of their visits, he fears, might give people the wrong impression. However, he only visits her because he “has no acquaintances here to beguile the time except for Mme. Hensel” (Fanny Mendelssohn). Gounod emphasizes his intentions to return to Rome as soon as possible. This letter is full of affection for Lefuel, almost to the point of being saccharine; however, as many authors have noted, this often extravagant manner of speech was common for the composer (even at 21). The editor notes that the Lefuel family was close to the

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Gounod family, and that Hector was a good friend of Gounod’s brother, Urbain. b. Addressed to Hector Lefuel (a great friend and Prix de Rome comrade), Naples, August 13, 1840. Gounod indicates that he can “no longer stand it in Naples” and that he is “attacked by the selfsame maladies and the selfsame colic.” His roommate and friend Guénepin has been taking care of him, getting up with him during the night to nurse his stomach pains. Gounod indicates that he will be leaving Naples in three or four days to go to Isola to visit M. Grevenich, and friend of Desgoffe (a pupil of Ingres who had traveled to Italy from 1837 to 1832, according to the editor). Gounod also laments that Fanny Mendelssohn-Hensel has left, and consequently there is “no music,” only Mme. Daubrée. In the remainder of the letter Gounod asks after Lefuel’s health and passes his good wishes to their mutual friends including Desgoffe and Ingres himself (who at the time was away from the Villa Medici). c. Addressed to Hector Lefuel (a great friend and Prix de Rome comrade), Rome, Saturday, February 13, [1841]. This letter is very brief and merely shares that Gounod again has had an “attack of ague and a touch of fever.” He sends his “affectionate remembrances,” and says that he has no portrait as yet from M. Ingres. The editor indicates in a footnote that Ingres did indeed paint a portrait of Gounod and delivered it himself to the composer’s mother. d. Addressed to Hector Lefuel (a great friend and Prix de Rome comrade), Rome, Saturday, February 20, 1841. This very brief letter thanks Lefuel for his letter and informs him of the status of other letters Gounod sent him. e. Addressed to Hector Lefuel (a great friend and Prix de Rome comrade), Rome, Saturday, February 27, 1841. In this letter Gounod recounts a story about his recent accident. Returning to the Villa from a costume ball, he bumped his head against the front door which was so violent that he became delirious that night and “talked in an incoherent fashion” during his sleep. The Desgroffes took good care of him and he has fully recovered. In this letter Gounod also indicates that Ingres will be leaving the Villa in Rome for Florence (where Lefuel was at the time), but at present does not know when. f. Addressed to Hector Lefuel (a great friend and Prix de Rome comrade), Rome, April 1, 1841. Gounod informs his friend that the Ingres will be leaving for Florence “a week from today” and will reply to Lefuel’s letter in person when he sees him. Gounod gives him an update on his own work: he is currently working on the “Credo” of his Mass to be performed in Rome at St.

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide Louis des Français. This is the final portion that he needs to write. He also mentions the “ugly rumor” concerning the assassination attempt on the King’s life (which turned out to be a sham), and informs his friend about the exhibition of the Villa’s painters, sculptors and architects, complimenting Lefuel’s entry. g. Addressed to Hector Lefuel (a great friend and Prix de Rome comrade), Frascati, Friday, October 1, [1841.] Here Gounod asks Lefuel to send him more money to help pay their expenses. They only took enough money to last eight days, but they stayed away for thirteen. He also gives rather detailed instructions on how to send the funds. Gounod asks that his friend send word to Mme Pommier that he will be in Rome on Tuesday and will visit her on Wednesday to select another piano. h. Addressed to Hector Lefuel (a great friend and Prix de Rome comrade), Frascati, Sunday, October 3, [1841.] This letter thanks Lefuel for the money requested in the previous letter. This letter also confirms that Paccard has won a prize, though Gounod is no more specific than this. He also indicates that he may not be back to Rome until Wednesday during the day. i. Addressed to Besozzi (a friend and winner of the Prix de Rome in 1837), Rome, February 25, 1842. For the contents of this letter see the item #217a below, from Julien Tiersot’s article from the Musical Quarterly of 1919. j. Addressed to the Marquis de Pastouret, Vienna, Saturday, March 25, 1843. According to the editor of these letters, Amédée-David, the Marquis de Pastouret, was the author of the text of the cantata that Gounod set to music to win the Prix de Rome in 1839. The Marquis (1791–1857) was a member of the Institute and a senator. In this letter Gounod tells the count that his Mass—“written in a style closely approximating that of the Sistine Chapel”—was performed at the Church of St. Charles. The composer felt that it was “executed in quite a satisfactory manner.” This letter is interesting in that Gounod reveals some of his thoughts on the aesthetics of sacred music, an art form “whose traces have been lost for so long in France.” He indicates that he hopes to be a part of the reformation of French religious music, and that his enthusiasm will be tempered by knowledge. Gounod also indicates that whatever criticisms of his Mass are leveled by the public he will learn from them. He says: “One can only profit by them when they are distilled by men of merit.”

217. Tiersot, Julien. “Gounod’s Letters.” Musical Quarterly 5 (1919): 40–61. http://www.jstor.org/stable/737925 (accessed May 22, 2008). For subscribers to JSTOR only.

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189

This is a collection of 20 letters spanning the period from 1842 to the composer’s death in 1893. Tiersot believes that this selection represents “a faithful characterization of the composer’s walk of life.” While the criterion for inclusion is not fully clear, Tiersot indicates that “each was chosen with a view to illuminate some important event in his career and throw it into strong relief.” The letters do demonstrate the composer’s rather florid style, and at times his speech is so lofty that it could be mistaken for melodrama. However, many biographies have mentioned this enthusiasm and a tendency to sermonize. Each letter is described individually below in chronological order as it is found in the article. a. Addressed to Besozzi (a Prix de Rome comrade), Rome, February 25, 1842. Here Gounod laments the tendency of musical societies to cut and mutilate new works of any length. He states: “that is still the fashion in Paris.” Gounod indicates that in a composition “when a height is attained increase of breadth follows naturally.” He tells the recipient that he is working on a “symphony with chorus in four movements: the percussion of Christ, his death, the prophecy against Jerusalem, and the resurrection.” This work is curiously not mentioned in any of Gounod’s works lists.4 b. Addressed to Count de Reyneval (secretary of the French embassy in Rome), Vienna, July 17, 1842. This letter updates the Count on Gounod’s recent work. He mentions a “quintet in the form of a symphony for the five foremost” wind players in Vienna (flute, oboe, clarinet, horn, and bassoon), and an overture for full orchestra (“which will be played in public at the Theater of the Opera”). He indicates that he began a Requiem, just the “first number and the first period of the Dies Irae” (down to the Quid sum miser). Gounod also mentions the symphony with choruses once again (perhaps the same one mentioned in the letter above?) c. Addressed to Besozzi, Sunday evening, November 17, 1847 [no place but probably Paris.] Here Gounod apologizes for not be able to attend Besozzi’s wedding because he was rigorously studying for the priesthood with the Carmelites. d. Addressed to Eugène Tourneux, Sunday, July 14, 1849 [no place is given]. This brief note congratulates his friend on the birth of his son, the future historian and critic, Maurice Tourneux. e. Addressed to A. Simon (manager of an Orphéon periodical), Saturday, January 3, 1857, Paris. This letter explains the awkward position Gounod was in as the director of the Orphéons. The former director, Hubert, was demoted and

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide consequently he undermined Gounod’s authority and position. Gounod offers an explanation of his attempts to rebuild the organization that was almost destroyed by Hubert. The composer also gives Simon a list of his works for the orphéons which includes a Mass, a collection of 17 teaching pieces, various motets, La cigale et la fourni, various arrangements, a double chorus Tout l’univers est plein de sa magnificence, and the national chorus, Vive l’Empereur. Gounod also mentions their salaries, and future plans for a new performing space. f. Addressed to Eugène Tourneux, Saturday evening, January 23, 1858 [no place given]. This is an intimate thank you note for the sympathies Tourneux expressed at the death of Gounod’s mother earlier that month. g. Addressed to Jules Richomme, Théâtre Impériale de l’Opéra Administration general, Paris [February 25, 1859–date of the postmark as mentioned by the editor]. In this brief letter Gounod indicates that the dress rehearsal for Faust was deplorable and that he had to get a new tenor for the title role, the original singer being ill. h. Addressed to Frédéric Mistal, Tuesday, February 17, 1863, Paris. Here Gounod shares with the author of the poem Mireio the basic outline of his opera in four acts. The editor notes that this outline was not strictly followed by Gounod later. i. Addressed to Frédéric Mistal [no date, no place; however, the editor suggests that it was written prior to his trip to Provence from March to May 1863]. This is a rather lengthy and verbose thank-you note, with outpourings of fondness for the countryside of Provence and the admirations of the composer for the poet. Gounod indicates that “those who know my Mirielle are pleased with it. As for the Carvalhos, they are extremely pleased.” j. Addressed to Iltis [organist in Provence and Gounod’s companion during his stay there, according to the editor]. July 21, 1863, [no place]. This is a lengthy and flowery thank-you note of friendship for the hospitality of the local organist-cum-tour guide. The style of this letter betrays Gounod verbose and enthusiastic manner of speech, which has been noted by many others. k. Addressed to the Zimmerman family, Sunday September 4, 1870, Varangeville. According to Tiersot, the town of Varangevill is in Normandy, where Gounod had fled with his family during the Prussian invasion of Paris. In this letter Gounod indicates to his in-laws, the Zimmermans, that if

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191

Prussia is successful in conquering France and occupying the country, then he will take his family and his mother-in-law to England, rater than “live under the hostile flag.” l. Addressed to Pigny, his brother-in-law [according to the editor], 8 Morden Road, Blackheath, near London, the end of September 1870 [this is the probable date according to Tiersot]. From this letter Gounod has made true on his promise to take his family to the safety of England. It is very patriotic in tone, lamenting the fate of France, and promising that if Pigny decides to return to Paris, Gounod will not let him go alone. He states: “one’s family is not merely a gathering around the dinner table.” The letter is full of personal remorse for his country, almost to the extent of sounding melodramatic: “Unhappy land, wretched dwelling place of mankind where barbarism has not yet ceased to exist.” This letter does give an important sense of just how distraught the composer was, and demonstrates his deep, patriotic feelings. m. Addressed to an unknown person [the author posits that it is a friend from Trouville], July 21, 1871, London. This letter describes the very warm reception of Gallia, which was performed for the first time at the inauguration of the International Exhibition in London on May 1, 1871, according to Tiersot. He indicates that this evening the “thunder fairly rocked the house.” Gounod is making plans for the French premiere in Paris at the Conservatoire which, according to Tiersot, was heard on October 29 and November 5, 1871. n. Addressed to Madame Edouard Lalo, October 7, 1872, Brussels, Hotel du Parc. This letter demonstrates how Gounod worked to help the composer Edouard Lalo secure a premiere for his Fiesque in Brussels. The unfortunate result—which he shares with Mme. Lalo—is that in his own words, the director is “constrained to play safe” and that he is allowing the public to rule his decisions. “The entire world revolves around these congeries of vicious circles of this sort.” Gounod later in the letter compares Edouard Lalo’s genius to Galilei, Fulton, and Beethoven. o. Addressed to A. Vizentini [director of the Théâtre de la Gaité in Paris, according to Tiersot], June 24, 1873, Tavistock House, Tavistock Square [London]. This letter was composed during the time when Gounod was living in London with Mrs. Weldon. It references the work Jean d’Arc for which Gounod composed incidental music and which played at the Théâtre de la Gaité on November 8, 1873 (according to Tiersot). Gounod also mentions that he is writing an article for Le Ménestrel on conductorcomposers. He says that “I do not doubt that the theme of my argument

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide will be approved by every orchestral conductor of intelligence and conscientiousness in his vocation.” p. Addressed to A. Vizentini [director of the Théâtre de la Gaité in Paris, according to Tiersot], November 11, 1873, Tavistock House, Tavistock Square [London]. This letter was written two days after the second performance of Jean d’Arc in Paris. Gounod expresses very dramatically his concerns about unspecified “modifications considered desirable or necessary.” q. Addressed to Ernest Reyer, Tuesday evening, October 17, 1876, SaintCloud, 39 Route Nationale. According to Tiersot, this letter refers to Reyer’s election to the Académie des Beaux-Arts. In it Gounod pleads his loyalty and friendship toward Reyer, and apologizes if anything he may have said was taken the wrong way. Gounod assures him that he has acted “in all candor, with the spontaneous impulse of a good comrade.” r. Addressed to Helen, undated and with no place of origin. This letter is addressed to a young lady who apparently wishes to follow the profession of artist. Gounod offers her advice in a very fatherly tone and with much gentleness. He warns her that the profession of an artist is “always hazardous, and it is rarely happy, precisely because its realization is infinitely lower than the dream, and that there results a cruel deception, and that the deception is emptiness.” He also tells her that “instead of fancies you need to use your sane, calm, unwarped reason to see life as it is, and your own life as it ought to be both for you and yours.” Gounod admonishes Helen that she should “choose a course of life which forms both a condition of moral security, and a part of the security of the home.” One wonders what exactly Helen had in mind. Nevertheless this takes a rather misogynistic tone. s. Addressed to M. Denis Cochin [the former Minister of Defense, according to Tiersot], no date and no place are given. Here Gounod begs the recipient not to allow the rue Saint-Cécile to be renamed (or “rebaptized” has he puts it) for the director of the Conservatoire. t. Addressed to Camille Saint-Saëns, Thursday, October 12, 1893, SaintCloud. Written merely days before Gounod’s death, he thanks the younger composer for the copy of his Phryné, which Gounod says he will “hear thorough my eyes, the musician’s second pair of ears.” The composer died on 18 October.

Appendix 1 Selected Manuscript Sources

Title

Description

Number

“Adieu”

piano piece, 1 page manuscript 1859, dated and signed voice and piano in D-flat “à Madame Conneau” between 1850–1899 for choir, in F major “nach einem Präludium des J. S. Bach” between 1850 and 1899 for 4 equal voices in C major 4 pages, holograph with text by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow for soprano and piano in F major for voice in G major [n.d.] May 6, 1879 to Chaudoir April 29, no year to a lady March 14, 1876; 5 pages;

PML1: Lehman 114548 DDO2: Mus.MS 2436

Au printemps Ave Maria Ave Verum Arrow and the Song, The Chanson de printemps Chant d’automne Correspondence Dodelinette (Berceuse) Partition d’orchestra (seule version authentique) Faust Faust Faust Faust Faust

George Dandin; Piano vocal score for the incidental music to Molière’s text. The Golden Thread

signed; dedication: A ma fille Jeanne Gounod libretto (undated) libretto (undated) Sibel’s couplets parlé version with orchestrations of melodramas by Henri Busser excerpts arranged for piano and violin; “Potpourri aus der Oper “Faust” von Gounod” between 1850 and 1899 20 pages; sketches; holograph signed; no date

DDO: MusMS2436 BBr3: MusMS972 PML: Cary 0420 BBr: MS III 1593 Mus BBr: MS III 1593 Mus NUML4 LTR. G6 LTR. G6 NUML, M.A.5 75.1

B.O. Liv. MS 2896 B.O. Fonds Barbier, Carton 16, MSS 144 B. O. A. 622.a B. O. A. 622 I Rés. DDO: MusMS 2437

NUML Mss 187

Holograph signed; probably used NUML Mss 459 as Gounod’s conducting score; premiered at the Triennial FestivalAugust 31, 1882.

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Title

Description

Number

Laudate Dominum

for choir of 2 equal voices in A Minor with organ, 1892. 1873, London to Bertrand; 1 leaf, 4 pages; holograph signed; watermark LNL Gounod’s letters to Bizet

BBr: Mus MS 973

Letter Letters (collection)

Liberté éclairant le monde, Le

Maître Paul Marguerite Mass Mass Medjè Messe solennelle [à Sainte Cécile] 1855 Messe solennelle

Mireille Mireille “Moderato” piano solo Noël Nonne Sanglante, La O That We Were Maying

hymn for choir and orchestra; to celebrate the centenary of the Independence of the U.S. and the erection of the Statue of Liberty autograph full score for tenor and piano in A Major, “paroles de O. Pradere Between 1850 and 1899 choir and orchestra in B-flat Selections, between 1835 and 1865 choir and orchestra in G major, arr. Messe Solennelle between 1850–1899 soprano and piano in E minor [n.d., untitled] 86 pages; holograph signed; contains Kyrie, Credo, Sanctus; and Benedictus. choir and orchestra Excerpts: Sanctus et Benedictus, between 1850 and 1899. autograph full score proofs of the opera E♭ major in common time Dedicated to Ingres March 25, 1841 for choir and orchestra in E-flat [n.d.] fragments 5 pages, for medium voice and piano, autograph sketch in pencil and signed

“Par le ciel” from Mireille autograph fragment in full score Plaine est vaste …, Le

autograph signed in a letter to Rosalie Jousset with performance instructions

NUML Mss 418 F-Pn, Dept. Des manuscripts n.a.fr. 14346, ff. 71–133 CndeMus7

BN8 Mus Ms 14996 Ivlevi9: CF.C. 142 AWm10: Sign. 166 BBr: Mus MS 971 I Vlevi: CF.C.143 NUML Mss 242 BBr: MusMS 971/2

New York, Pierpont Morgan Library, Cary Collection CNdeMus BN 433 BBr: Mus MS 974 CNdeMus NLC11: Vault Case MS 7Q 102 Bibliothèque de l’Opéra Res. 2221 PML: Cary 583

Selected Manuscript Sources

195

Title

Description

Number

Polyeucte

preliminary draft; 161 pages; Holograph bound with La Rédemption (Mss 496) sketch; 4 pages; holograph Early sketch of all of Ballet A and a large part of Ballet B recopied version

NUML Mss 497

Polyeucte Polyeucte

Portraits Prélude et fugue en Ré majeur Prière

La Rédemption La Rédemption La Reine de Saba La Reine de Saba Roméo et Juliette Sapho Saint Dominique Scherzo for orchestra Scherzo vivace, [Symphony No. 2] No. 2 (2 de. Symphonie) Sérénade Sérénade

Sérénade Sérénade de Marie Tudor Sketchbook

1 lithograph and portrait Dedicated to Saint-Saëns piano 4 hands in D major No. 5, “Prière Dieu de Misérecorde” [n.d.] preliminary draft; 24 pages; holograph bound with Polyeucte preliminary draft; 2 pages; draft of the opening of no. 6 in Part 2 Incipit; 1 page; holograph fragments short score and draft airs de danse no. 1, no. 4, Variation pour Mlle Subra Choeur à Bacchus, 29 p. dated 1884 soprano and piano in D major “Cantique Paroles du R. P. L’hermite” [n.d.] incomplete score; 20 pages; holograph signed; not listed in Gounod’s known works. 74 pages; holograph; scored for orchestra score; 5 pages; scored for orchestra; sketches in d minor voice and piano in F major between 1850 and 1899 for soprano and piano in A major, “serenata poesia di Vittor Hugo alla signora Lefebvre” between 1850 and 1899 voice and piano in E-flat included with a letter to Le Beau Ainé 40 of 54 pages of music; holograph signed; contains sketches for symphonic and vocal music.

NUML Mss 499 Stiftelsen Musikkulturens Främjande, Stockholm NUML M.A. 75.4 BN MS 378 CH COobodmer. MS11681 NUML 496 NUML Mss 498 NUML M.A. 75.3 CNdeMus B.O. Rés. 650 (I)12 NYP Mss13 BBr: MS III 1593 Mus NUML M.A. 75.2 NUML Mss 239 NUML Mss 241 DHs14: M B/1197 I Vlevi: CF.C 147

DHs: M B/4531 PML: Morgan (access #117741) NUML Mss 233

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

Title

Description

Number

Sketches Sketches “Soir, Le” Sonata à quatre mains

4 pages; signed holograph 5 pages; signed holograph piano solo; originally a song piano duet believed to have been composed during his youth, n.d. score; 11 pages; holograph; scored for orchestra; sketches in d minor. Score; 38 pages;

NUML Mss 310 NUML Mss 309 BN MS 3, 375 BN MS 1772

Symphonie Symphonie sacrée à grand orchestre et avec choeur en quatre partie. Ulysse Variations pour le pianoforte: Composées sur un Thème Original

NUML Mss 240 NUML Mss 243

second movement wanting score

CNdeMus

piano solo

BN MS 178 (2)

Appendix 2 Selected Gounod Correspondence

These letters cited are documented in Steven Huebner’s monograph on the composer and his opera (see item #158). They are organized chronologically, and grouped according to the composition to which they refer and those which they address.

These are letters written regarding and during the period of Gounod’s opera Sapho 1.

to Turgenev (from Gounod)

2. 3. 4. 5.

to Pauline Viardot (from Gounod) to Pauline Viardot (from Gounod) to Turgenev (from Gounod) to Pauline Viardot (from Gounod)

BN1 MSS naf (nouvelles acquisitions françaises) 16275 fols. 238–9 (June 22, 1850).2 BN MSS naf 16272 fol. 193 (May 8, 1850) BN MSS naf 16272 fol. 191 BN MSS naf 16375 fol. 240 (Oct. 27, 1850) BN MSS naf 16272 fol. 240 (June 29, 1851)

These are letters written regarding and during the period of Gounod’s music for Ulysse 1.

to Pauline Viardot (from Gounod)

2.

to George Sand (from Gounod)

BN MSS naf 16272 fols. 205–206 (August 26, 1851.) Documents et autographes – Libraire C. Coulet et A. Faure, 1968, lot 1123.

These letters were written during the period of La Paria 1.

to Pauline Viardot (from Gounod)

2.

to Pauline Viardot (from Gounod)

BN MSS naf 16272 fols. 196–97 (June 14, 1851); naf 16272 fols. 257–58; naf 16727 fols. 261–62; fols. 16272 fols. 260. BN MSS naf 16272 fols. 207–209 (Feb. 7, 1852.)

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Charles François Gounod: A Research and Information Guide

These letters were written during the period of Nello 1.

to Charles Gounod (from G. Sand)

2.

to Charles Gounod (from G. Sand)

3.

to Charles Gounod (from G. Sand)

4.

to Pauline Viardot (from Gounod)

Georges Sande: Correspondance, ed. Georges Lubin, 1972, vol. X, 525. Bibliothèque Historique de la Ville de Paris, Oct. 22, 1851 Fonds Sand, G4150, Jan. 6, 1852; Fonds Sand, G4152, G 4156 (n.d.) Georges Sande: Correspondance, ed. Georges Lubin, 1972, vol. X, 637–640. Jan. 10, 1852. BN MSS naf 16272, fols. 207–209.

These letters were written during the period of Ivan le terrible 1. 2.

to anon. (from Gounod) to anon. (from Gounod)

BN Mus. las.3 20, Aug. 20, 1856 BN Mus. las. 104 (no date)

These letters were written during the period of Sapho 1.

to Pauline Viardot (from Gounod)

BN Mss naf 16272 fos. 114–115

These letters were written during the period of La Reine de Saba 1.

to Pauline Viardot (from Gounod

Charvary Catalogue, no. 808, Feb. 8, 1862 (April 1962).

These letters were written during the period of Roméo et Juliette 1. 2.

to Pauline Viardot (from Gounod) to Choudens (from Gounod)

3. 4.

to Théâtre-Lyrique (from Gounod) to Jules Barbier (from Gound)

5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

to Choudens (from Gounod) to Choudens (from Gounod) to E. Legouvé (from Gounod) to Choudens (from Gounod) to Choudens (from Gounod) to Bizet (from Gounod)

BN Mss naf 16272, fo. 214 Bibliothèque de l’Opéra (BO from henceforth), Gounod las 37 B.O.4 Gounod, las 18 Bibliothèque de la Société des auteurs et compositeurs dramatiques (SACD henceforth) Paris, 6 July, 1868 [copy] B.O. Gounod, las 55 (Sept. 1871) B.O. Gounod, las 42, (May 17, 1871) private collection5 B.O. Gounod, las 37 B.O. Gounod, las 38 BN Mss naf 14346 (Oct. 15, 1872)

Selected Gounod Correspondence

199

These letters were written during the period of Faust 1. 2.

to Perrin (from Gounod) to Choudens (from Gounod)

Bibliothèque SACD, October 23, 1868. B.O. Gounod, las 38.

These letters were written during the period of Polyeucte 1.

to Marquis de Ségier (from Gounod)

B.N. Mss naf 22832 (14 letters)

These letters were written regarding Georgina Weldon 1.

to Dr. Emile Blanche (from Gounod)

2.

to Choudens (from Gounod)

Institut de France, Fonds Blanche, fos. 173–176. B.O. Gounod, las. 41–59.

Theses letters were written during the period of Cinq Mars 1.

to Victor Schwab (from Gounod)

2. 3. 4.

to Gounod (from Lucca, Italian publisher) to Gounod (from Lucca) to Ernest Legouvé (from Gounod)

B.N. Mus. Gounod las 122 (10 April, 1877) Bibliothèque SACD (no date) Bibliothèque SACD (no date) private collection (June 8, 1865)

These letters were written during the period of Maître Pierre 1.

Paul [Poirson] (from Gounod)

B. N. Mus. Gounod las 126–131 (Aug/Sept. 1877)

These letters were written during the period of “a melodrama” 1.

to Jules Brésil (from Gounod)

Bibliothèque SACD (series of letters.)

Appendix 3 Miscellaneous Letters of Gounod

Recipient

Date

Anon.

Anon.4

November 11, 1850 discussion details of Sapho; signed/dated May 20, 1853 signed/dated; regarding a singing school August 22, 1876 questions regarding Sapho from an unidentified friend; Gounod indicates that he will be in St. Cloud September 8. Signed/dated September 6, 1877 signed and dated from Chateau de Morainville April 29, 1879 signed and on a brief May 13, 1880 contains a photograph, fragment of a musical score, and a pamphlet note card May 14, 1884 signed/dated

Anon.

January 21, 1889

signed/dated

Anon.

n.d.

Beau Ainé, Le

n.d. [1857?]

Benedict, Julius Bertrand

April 10, 1880

contains a photograph, fragment of a musical score, and a pamphlet signed; including a MS of the Serenade de Marie Tudor signed/dated

Blain, Dr. Casimir Bresil, JulesHenri

June 2, 1863

Anon. Anon.

Anon. Anon. Anon.

Nov. 27, 1873

March 18, 1879

Notes

signed letter from London; 4 p. written from St. Cloud signed/dated and suggesting cuts in the libretto of Le Tribut de Zamora

Call Number PML: Harding M291 PML: MFC G711.X1 PML: MLT G711.X (1876.08.22)

PML: MFC G711.X3 NUML2 LTR .G68 BC MS Misc. Letters 2 Gounod3 PML: MLT G711.X (1884.05.14) PML: MLT G711.X (1889.01.21) BC MS Misc. Letters 2 Gounod PML: Morgan (access #117741) PML: MOG 129 NUML LTR .G68B4 Blain5 PML: MFC G711 .B842

Miscellaneous Letters of Gounod

201

Recipient

Date

Notes

Call Number

Chaudoir

May 6, 1879

NUML LTR.G68

Due, M.

August 16, 1867

Edith6

July 1, 1872

Foucher, V.

n. d.

Freemantle, W. T.

April 30, 1874

Gounod, Charles Gounod, Madame

July 12, 1888

Gounod, Madame

March 25, 1863

Gounod, Madame

April 13, 1863

Gradier, Madame

n.d.

Jousset, Rosalie

July 24, 1857

Manns, August Mapleson, Alfred

n.d.

dated and signed letter on personal stationery signed/dated; regarding Romeo [?] indicates that he will be going to the spa in August; signed/dated contains a photograph, fragment of a musical score, and a pamphlet in English contains a photograph, fragment of a musical score, and a pamphlet from Giovanni Bottesini to Gounod from Gounod to his wife written from Arles about the beauty of the area written while in St.-Remy working on Mirielle writen from St.-Remy telling about his meeting with Mistral contains a photograph, fragment of a musical score, and a pamphlet attached to the autograph of a song (“La plaine est vaste”) giving her detailed instruction for performance signed visit card

Méliot, [Adolphe] Mistral Mistral Mistral

March 20, 1863

PML: FULD PML: MFC G711.X2 BC MS Misc. Letters 2 Gounod BC MS Misc. Letters 2 Gounod PML: MLT B7515. G711 Lassus7 Lassus Lassus BC MS Misc. Letters 2 Gounod PML: Carey 583

PML: MFC G711. M285 March 26, 1884 signed/dated; regarding PML: MFC G711. tickets to Sapho; M297 La Redemption is also mentioned December 11, 1884 signed/dated; thank PML: MFC G711. you note M522 February 17, 1863 written to Mistral and MMM8 pertaining to the composition of Mireille March 25, 1863 written to Mistral and MMM pertaining to the composition of Mireille July 8, 1863 written to Mistral and MMM pertaining to the composition of Mireille

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Recipient

Date

Mistral

September 5, 1863

Mouchet, Madame [Patti, Adelina] Perrin, [Emile] Peyton, Richard Poles, M. Poles, Monsieur Préfet de la Seine Schnitzler, Robert Schnitzler, Mrs. R. Stevens, Alfred Sullivan, Arthur Tadolini, Monsieur Thalberg, Monsieur [Thomas, Ambroise] Valois

Notes

written to Mistral and congratulating him on being named to the Legion of Honor July 26, 1860 contains a photograph, fragment of a musical score, and a pamphlet December 13, 1888 signed/dated, regarding a photograph n. d. signed; regarding Mlle. Caye April 23, 1874 signed/dated; mentions Weldon’s singing school June 16, 1873 about his reading of Nouvelle Magdeleine August 29, 1873 contains a photograph, fragment of a musical score, and a pamphlet Signed/dated June 7, 1878 signed/dated; declining to be on a special commission with reason February 10, 1880 signed/dated about trip to Cologne March 14, 1880 signed/dated; thank you note April 1, 1892 a thank you note; signed/dated n.d. signed; date is between 12/15/1870 and 5/8/1887 n.d. contains a photograph, fragment of a musical score, and a pamphlet n.d. contains a photograph, fragment of a musical score, and a pamphlet July 8, 1875 signed/dated; regarding a Bizet monument March 4, 1884 signed/dated; regarding his inability to attend a baptism due to rehearsals of the revival of Sapho

Call Number MMM

BC MS Misc. Letters 2 Gounod PML: MFC G711. P321 PML: FULD PML: Harding M28 PML: MLT G711. P7655 BC MS Misc. Letters 2 Gounod PML: MLT G711 (1878.06.07) PML: MLT G711. S461 PML: MLT G711. S4615 PML: MLT G711 S944 PML: MA 4106. 150 (3)9 Record #75856 BC MS Misc. Letters 2 Gounod BC MS Misc. Letters 2 Gounod PML: MLT G711 T454 Nealon-Flynn (private collection)10

Appendix 4 Selected Discography

These citations are arranged by genre according to The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians (2001) and then in alphabetical order after that. The following recordings have been chosen based upon a variety of criteria, such as: they are the first recording of the composition in question, and therefore historically important; they are generally held to be critically one of the more superior performances of the work; they are perhaps the only known commercial recording; or they are the most modern recording. It is possible that any one of the following recordings may meet more than one of these criteria. As a rule, excerpts of large-scale works have been omitted from this discography. These recordings have been drawn from a number of sources including various commercial recording catalogues, the listing found in Gounod’s Mémoires d’un artiste, edited by Claude Glayman (for an English translation see item #202 above), and from online searches using the electronic searching tool, World Cat. Record or Compact Disc numbers and dates have been provided when possible.

SYMPHONIES AND ORCHESTRAL WORKS WITHOUT SOLOISTS Saltarello. Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra, Ondrej Lenard, conductor. Naxos: 8.550087 (1989). Symphony no. 1 in D major. Orchestra Simfonica a Filarmonicii din Tirgu-Mures, Franz Lamprecht, conductor. Electrecord EDC 173 (1995). Symphony no. 1 in D major. Orchestre du Capitole de Toulouse, Michel Plasson, conductor. EMI Classics: CDM 7 63949 2 (1979/1991). Symphony no. 1 in D major. Orchestra of St. John’s Smith Square, J. Lubbock, conductor. ASV 981 (n. d.) Symphony no. 1 in D major. Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, Sir Neville Marriner, conductor. PPHI 462125 (n. d.) Symphony no. 2 in E-flat major. Orchestra Simfonica a Filarmonicii din Tirgu-Mures, Franz Lamprecht, conductor. Electrecord EDC 173 (1995). Symphony no. 2 in E-flat major. Orchestre du Capitole de Toulouse, Michel Plasson, conductor. EMI Classics: CDM 7 63949 2 (1979/1991).

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Symphony no. 2 in E-flat major. Transylvanian State Philharmonic of Roumania, Jean Louis Petit, conductor. Arion: ARN 68239 (1979/1982). Symphony no. 2 in E-flat major. Orchestra of St. John’s Smith Square, J. Lubbock, conductor. ASV 981 (n. d.) Symphony no. 2 in E-flat major. Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, Sir Neville Marriner, conductor. PPHI 462125 (n. d.)

Concerted works Fantasie sur l’hymne nationale russe. Franz Hauk, organist. Philharmonie Ingolstadt, Alfredo Ibarra, conductor. Guild GMCD 7185 (1996/2000).1 Suite Concertante. Franz Hauk, organist. Philharmonie Ingolstadt, Alfredo Ibarra, conductor. Guild GMCD 7185 (1996/2000).2

Chamber music Hymne à Sainte Cécile. Franz Hauk, organist; Johanna Maier, harp; Samson Gonashvili, violin; Sergo Kurashvili, viola. Guild GMCS 7187 (2000). Hymne à Sainte Cécile. Kurt Lueders, organist; Sheryl Staples, violin; John Novacek, piano. Arkay Records AR 6097 (1990). Mélodies for horn and piano. James Sommerville, horn and Rena Sharon, piano. Marquis Classics ERAD 157 (1994). Mélodies for horn and piano. Barry Tuckwell, horn and Daniel Blumenthal, piano. Etcetera KTS 1135 (1985/1992). Petite étude-scherzo for two contrabasses. Knut Guettler and Rodney Slatford, contrabasses. Camerata 32 CM-60 (1995). Petite étude-scherzo for two contrabasses. New Colophonium Bassquartet. Signum SIG X23-00 (1989). Petite symphonie for wind instruments. Hallé Orchestra, Sir John Barbirolli, conductor. EMI Classics: 5 74730 2 (1959/2001). Petite symphonie for wind instruments. AETC Band of the West Chamber Players and Top Brass, no conductor listed. Lackland AFB, TX (1995). Petite symhonie for wind instruments. Orchestre Chambre de Waterloo, Ulysses Waterlot, conductor. Syrinx Records CSR 93102 (1993). Petite symphonie for wind instruments. St. Paul Chamber Orchestra, Christopher Hogwood, conductor. London 430 231-2 (1991). Petite symphonie for wind instruments. Athena Ensemble, CHN 6543 ADD (1991/1978). Petite symphonie for wind instruments. Orchestre de Chambre de Waterloo, Ulysse Waterlot, conductor. Naxos: 8.555954 (n. d.). Petite symphonie for wind instruments. Sinfonia Orchestra of Chicago, Barry Faldner conductor. Koch Dig. 370672 (n. d.). String Quartet no. 1 in D major. Danel String Quartet. VAL 4798 (1997). String Quartet no. 1 in D major. Quartour Bressler-Reis. Harmonia Mundi France LDC 279 946 (1989). String Quartet no. 2 in A major. Danel String Quartet. VAL 4798 (1997). String Quartet no. 3 in F major. Danel String Quartet. VAL 4798 (1997).3 String Quartet no 3. Daniel String Quartet. DI 920159 DDD.

Selected Discography

205

Organ music Fantasie sur l’hymne nationale russe. Franz Hauk, organist. Philharmonie Ingolstadt, Alfredo Ibarra, conductor. Guild GMCD 7185 (1996/2000).4 Marche Pontificale, arr. Leo Abbott, organist. AFKA Records SK-519 (1991). Marche Solennelle. Olivier Vernet, organist. Ligia Digital: 0202011-93 (1993). Marche Relgieuse. Kurt Lueders, organist. Motette CD 10760. (2002). Offertoire. Hans-Ola Ericsson, organist. Akersberga BIS CD-1102 (1999/ 2001). Offertoire. Franz Haselböck, organist. Koch 315 017 (1989/1991). Prière. André Mérineau, organist. CBC International Service CT35233 (1967). Suite Concertante. Franz Hauk, organist. Philharmonie Ingolstadt, Alfredo Ibarra, conductor. Guild GMCD 7185 (1996/2000).5

Choral music Cigale et la fourmi. Berner Vokalensemble, François Pantillon, conductor. [LP disc] Jecklin 1270 (1977). Evening Service. I Vocalisti Chamber Choir, Hans-Joachim Lustig, conductor. Carus 83.161 (2004/2005). Gallia (arr.). Catedral de Menorca Coro Capilla Davidica, Gabriel Barcelo Marti, conductor. Kicco Classic KC01396CD (1996). Gallia (Lamentation). Cecile Perrin (soprano), Delphine Haidan (mezzo), Marc Duguay (tenor), Fernand Bernadi (bass), Chorus and Orchestra of Paris-Sorbonne, Jacques Grimbert, conductor. Marco Polo DDD8.223892 (1995). Gallia. For the solo voice version, see the listing under songs below. Les sept paroles de Notre Seigner Jésus Christ sur la croix. Chorale Caecilia, Jean Louis Petit, conductor. Arion: ARN 68239 (1979/1982). Mass no. 4 in C major [sur l’intonation de la liturgie catholique; for the beatification of J. B. de la Salle]. Sofia Boy’s Choir, Adriana Blagoeva, conductor. Gega New GD 143 (2000). Mass no. 5 in C major. I Vocalisti Chamber Choir, Hans-Joachim Lustig, conductor. Carus 83.161 (2004/2005). Messe brève aux chapelles. I Vocalisti Chamber Choir, Hans-Joachim Lustig, conductor. Carus 83.161 (2004/2005). Messe brève no. 7 en ut majeur “aux chapelles.” Chorale Caecilia, Jean Louis Petit, conductor. Arion: ARN 68239 (1979/1982). Messe chorale avec orgue d’accompagnement et grand orgue sur l’intonation de la liturgie catholique. Orgue du choeur Daniel Fuchs, Marie-Claire Alain, Ensemble vocal de Lausanne, Michel Corboz, conductor. Erato: no number (1990). Messe chorale, for soloists, choir, orchestra and organ. Daniel Fuchs, organ; Ensemble Vocal de Lausanne, Michel Corboz, conductor. Apex: 8573 89235 2 (1990/2001). Messe solennelle de Saint Cécile. Pilar Lorengar, soprano; Heinz Hoppe, tenor; Franz Crass, bass; Choeur René Duclos, Orchestre de la Société des Concerts du Conservatoire, Jean-Claude Hartemann, conductor. EMI Classics: 5 74730 2 (1963/2001). Messe solennelle de Saint Cécile. Irmgard Seefried, soprano; Gerhard Stolze, tenor; Hermann Uhde, bass; Choeurs et Philharmonique tchèque de Prague, Igor Markecitch, conductor. Deutsche Grammophon: no number (1965). Messe solennelle de Saint-Cécile. Barbara Hendricks, soprano; Laurence Dale, tenor; Jean-Philippe Lafont, bass; Choeur and Nouvel Orchestre Philharmon-ique de Radio France, Georges Prêtre, conductor. EMI: no number (1983).

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Messe solennelle de Saint-Cécile. A. M. Basi, soprano; C. Elsner. tenor; D. Henschel, baritone; Munich Symphony Orchestra and Munich Motet Choir, H. R. Zöbeley, conductor. CALG 50956 DDD (1996). Messe solennelle de Sainte Cécile. Henricks, soprano; Dale, tenor; Lafont, bass; Choeurs et Nouvel Orcehstre Philharmonique of Radio France, Georges Prêtre, conductor. EMI Dig. CD C7470942 (n. d.). Messe solennelle de Sainte Cécile. Irmgard Seefried, soprano; Gerhard Stolze, tenor; Hermann Uhde,(bass; Tschechishe Sängerchor and Tschechishe Philharmonie, Prague, Igor Markevitch, conductor. Deutsche Grammophon 427 409-2 (1989/1965). Mors et Vita. Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Y. Butt, conductor. ASV 878 DDD (n. d.). Mors et Vita. Barbara Hendricks, soprano; Nadine Denize, alto; John Aler, tenor; Jose van Dam, bass; Théâtre du Capitole de Toulouse Orchestra and the Oféon Donostiarra (choir), Michel Plasson, conductor. EMI Classics CDS 754459 (1992). Noël. I Vocalisti Chamber Choir, Hans-Joachim Lustig, conductor. Carus 83.161 (2004/2005). Pater Noster. I Vocalisti Chamber Choir, Hans-Joachim Lustig, conductor. Carus 83.161 (2004/2005). Requiem. Soprano and alto of the Maitrise des Hauts-de-Seine with Hubert Deny, bass and Gilles Vitale, tenor; Maitrise des Hauts-de-Seine, chorus and the Orchestre Bernard Thomas, Francis Bardot, conductor. Forlane 16759 (1996). Requiem. Eva Buffoni, soprano; Irene Freidli, alto; Ruben Amoretti, tenor; Alain Clément, bass; Quator Sine Nomine and the Chorale du Brassus, Andre Charlet, conductor. Claves CD 50-9326 (1992/1993). Requiem. Chamber Choir, Vox Danica, Ebbe Munk, conductor. Danica DCD 8140 (1990). Requiem pour soli, choeur et orchestre. Choeurs et ensemble instrumental de la Madeleine, Joachim Havard de la Montagne, conductor. Arion: no number (1978). Sept Paroles de Jesu-Christ sur la croix. I Vocalisti Chamber Choir, Hans-Joachim Lustig, conductor. Carus 83.161 (2004/2005). Tobie. Cécile Perrin, soprano; Delphine Haidan, mezzo; Marc Duguay, tenor; Fernand Bernadi, bass; Chorus and Orchestra of Paris-Sorbonne, Jacques Grimbert, conductor. Marco Polo DDD8.223892 (1995).

Opera Faust. Premiere recording. Cesar Vezzani (Faust), Marcel Journet (Mephistopheles), Mireille Berthon (Marguerite), Orchestre et choeurs de l’Opéra de Paris, Henri Busser, conductor. Virgin: no number (1930). Faust. Nicolai Gedda (Faust), Boris Christoff (Mephistopheles), Victoria de Los Angeles (Marguerite), Orchestre et choeurs du Théâtre national de l’Opéra de Paris, André Cluytens, conductor. EMI-VSM: no number (1959). Faust. Placido Domingo (Faust), Vicolai Ghiaurov (Mephistopheles), Mirella Freni (Marguerite), Orchestre et choeurs de l’Opéra de Paris, Georges Prêtre, conductor. EMI-VSM: no number (1979). Faust. Kiri Te Kanawa (Marguerite), Francisco Araiza (Faust), Evgeny Nesterenko (Mephistopheles), Symphonie-Orchester and Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks, Sir Colin Davis, conductor. Philips: 420 164-2 (1986).

Selected Discography

207

Faust. Hadley (Faust), Gasdia (Marguerite), Famey (Mephistopheles), Welsh National Opera Chorus and Orchestra, Rizzi, conductor. Teldec/Warner Dig. 4509908722 (n. d.). Faust. Leech (Faust), Studer (Marguerite), Van Dam (Mephistopheles), Chorus and Orchestra of Capitole de Toulouse, Michel Plasson, conductor. EMI Dig. CDS7 542282 (n. d.). Filèmone e Bauci [in Italian]. Renata Scotto, Jolanda Torriani, Alvinio Misciano, Rolando Paneri, Paolo Montarsolo, Radiotelevisione Italiana, Coro di Milano, Nino Sanzogno, conductor. Foyer (Italy) 2 CF 2016 (1961/1988). Mireille. Mirella Freni (Mireille), Alain Vanzo (Vincent), Choeurs et Orchestre du Capitole de Toulouse, Michel Plasson, conductor. EMI France CDS 7 49653 2 (1988). Mireille. Renee Doria (Mireille), Michel Senechal (Vincent) Solange Michel (Taven), Robert Massard (Ramon), Orchestre symphonique et Choeurs de Paris, Jesus Etcheverry, conductor. Accord ACC 150027 (1962/1986). Mireille. Andrée Esposito (Mireille), Alain Vanzo (Vincent), Suzanne Darbans (Taven), Julien Giovanetti (Ramon), Gabriel Bacquier (Ourrias), Christiane Harbell (Vincenette), Lucien Lovano (Ambroise), Jean Mollien (Andréloun), Orchestre Radio-Lyrique et choeurs de la RTF, Jules Gressier, conductor. Gala: 100.722 (August 13, 1959). Mireille. Vivalda (Mireille), Gedda (Vincent), Gayraud, Dens, Ignal, Aix-en-Provence Festival Chorus, Paris Conservatoire Orchestra, André Cluytens, conductor. EMI, pmp C