THE career of Camille Saint-Saëns is a singular problem. He is beyond doubt one of the greatest French composers of today. He is also an inveterate traveler; a curious student of astronomy, archeology, mathematics; a critic, essayist, and playwright; a frequenter of distinguished society, every inch a Parisian and man of the world. His versatility is matched by the apparently incurable restlessness of his mind. A series of literary essays embraces subjects ranging all the way from spiritualism to the resonance of bells. He has composed with brilliant success in practically all of the forms and styles open to the composer of to-day. Yet there is a strange lack of the personal element in his art. Who, what, it may still be asked, is the essential, inner Saint-Saëns? That question he has never answered. He has been content to achieve a prodigious mastery of his medium, to produce music distinguished equally by the logic and finish of its workmanship, to charm, to entertain, to be a great artist without becoming a heavy one.
Saint-Saëns will have his little joke. Of irreproachable demeanor in public, this fine gentleman was never so irresistible as when he impersonated Marguerite, surprised by the jewels, in Gounod's "Faust," or La Belle Hélène in Offenbach's operetta of that name, when Bizet, composer of "Carmen," took the tenor rôle of Calchas! In the "Carnaval des Animaux" ("The Animals' Carnival ") Saint-Saëns imitated with grotesque effect the gruntings, squealings, howlings of various creatures of the animal kingdom !
It was in the same composition, however, that he waxed poetic, in the case of his exquisite little piece, "The Swan." How suggest in music a swan? A young modern composer would have written a symphonic poem on the subject. It will be seen that Saint-Saëns has communicated simply, but with admirable art, the mood that might be inspired by the sight of the beautiful, stately bird, floating serenely on the surface of the water, in the dusk of the evening. This was the only one of the pieces in the "Carnaval des Animaux" which Saint-Saëns allowed to be published.
"The Swan" ("Le Cygne") Played by Pablo Casals, 'cellist Columbia Record A 5650
Saint-Saëns, born in Paris, October 9, 1835, commenced to play the piano almost as soon as he learned to walk. He could tell as a small child the notes struck by all the clock chimes in the house, and remarked one day that a person in the next room was "walking in troches "—that is, in a certain rhythm which he recognized. Later on Saint-Saëns became at the Conservatoire a pupil of Halévy and Reber in composition, and was for a time a private pupil of Gounod. At seven-teen he had already a reputation as a pianist. Von Bülow was thunder-struck at his talent, and Liszt selected Saint-Saëns to play with him his "Mephisto Waltz" at the Zurich Festival in Switzerland in 1882.
It was in emulation of Liszt, the originator of the form, that Saint-Saëns wrote his four symphonic poems, "Danse Macabre" ("Dance of Death"), "Le Rouet d'Omphale" (" Omphale's Spinning-wheel"), "Phaëton," after the story of the rash charioteer of the heavens, and "La Jeunesse d'Hercule" ("The Youth of Hercules").
The "Danse Macabre" was inspired by a poem of Henri de Regnier. In his poem, Death, his bony heel tapping the measure, fiddles for the ghosts who dance at midnight in the graveyard. The winds howl and the specters leap about in their winding-sheets. The dance grows wilder until the cock crows, the specters disperse, and the place is again safe for honest men. In the music, Death is heard tuning his fiddle. There are strange orchestral effects. A bell tolls (flutes and harp). A horn echoes the crow of the cock. There is a brief reminder of the music of the goblins as they disappear.
" Danse Macabre "
Played by Prince's Orchestra
Columbia Record A 1836
It has been pointed out that this music is witty, ingenious, picturesque, rather than terrible. The composer's conviction is none too certain. Saint-Saëns does not tell us of his terror, but watches the revels from a safe place, and calmly records the events of the night. He affirms nothing. He asks: "Do you believe in spirits? At any rate, you see what can be done with a modern orchestra!" Liszt was more serious in his symphonic poems, more subjective, more in earnest. Saint-Saëns remains the clever, impartial inquirer.
Saint-Saëns has written over a dozen operas. Those in the lighter vein, more especially, perhaps, "Ascanio" and "Henry VIII," are yet to be enjoyed by the general public. The work which has gained an important position in the operatic repertory is "Samson and Delilah." This opera was performed under the patron-age of Liszt in Weimar, December 2, 1877. It has an important distinguishing quality as contrasted with al-most all the other music of Saint-Saëns. It is often emotional; there are passages of elemental feeling. Delilah stands out, a gorgeous, commanding figure. Samson is any heroic tenor, with one or two expressive airs. The other characters in the opera are of minor importance, but the music of Delilah reflects her beauty and her appeal to Samson.
This opera, which is now like modern music-drama and now like oratorio (it is performed with almost equal frequency on the concert. stage and in the theater), opens with an agitated orchestral introduction, in which the music mounts to a climax and then subsides, while, as the curtain rises, the Hebrews sing the lament, "God, Israel's God." Samson steps forward, exhorting his people to have courage, to remember the passage of the Red Sea and other marks of the favor of Jehovah, to hold firm together and strike for freedom.
Abimelech, satrap of Gaza, advances to quell the disturbance. Samson kills him and escapes with his followers. The High Priest of Dagon emerges from the temple. Learning that Samson is inciting the Hebrews to rebellion, he curses the strong man, his people, and his God. The body of Abimelech is removed. The Hebrews return, Samson at their head. Then Samson is confronted with a more insidious foe than satrap or high priest. Delilah comes upon him, followed by a train of maidens, who, in one of the most beautiful passages of the opera, sing of youth and of springtime and love. Delilah takes up the theme, and Samson, warned in vain by an elder, is aflame with her beauty.
"Printemps qui commence " (" Joyous now doth Spring come forth ")
Sung by Maria Gay
Columbia Record A 5280
A storm (echoed in the orchestra) is gathering as the curtain rises for the second act. Delilah, waiting for Samson, who has more than once escaped her, shows that she is actuated by a desire for revenge rather than by love. "O love, aid my weakness," is her cry, and this cry forebodes disaster for Samson.
" Amour, viens aider ma faiblesse " ("Love, lend me thine aid ")
Sung by Jeanne Gerville-Reache, contralto
Columbia Record A 5533
The High Priest enters to offer Delilah what price she cares to ask for delivering Samson into his hands. The woman of Sorek, counting her vengeance dearer far than any gold or power, is contemptuous of the learning of the Priest, which has not enabled him to read her heart. Samson arrives. There follows the love-scene and the irresistible song of Delilah, one of the most expressive and popular of modern airs for contralto.
" Mon coeur s'ouvre a ta voix " (" My heart, at thy dear voice ")
Sung by Maria Gay Columbia Record A 5280
Sung by Jeanne Gerville-Reache Columbia Record A 5533
Samson, undone by Delilah's fascination, is over-powered by the Philistines. The most salient features of the last act are the despondent lament of Samson, as, full of remorse for his weakness, he labors at the treadmill of the Philistines, and the grand "Bacchanale" in the Temple of Dagon, which precedes the destruction of the revelers. In the composition of this wild Oriental dance Saint-Saëns's acquaintance with the East served him well. The wailing cry of an oboe with which the dance opens, the thudding of drums and tinkling of various pulsatile instruments, the strange rhythms heard singly and in combination, make a superb piece of ballet music.
" Danse Bacchanale " from "Samson et Delilah "
Played by Chicago Symphony Orchestra
Columbia Record A 5903
"Local color," such as that shown in the "Bacchanale" from "Samson," is a subject on which Saint-Saëns has made many musical observations. Traveling in southern Europe, for example, he wrote "Nuit à Lisbonne," "Jota Aragonesa," "Rhapsodie d'Auvergne." In the second movement of his fifth piano concerto he employed songs of the boatmen of the Nile. In his "Suite Algérienne" he records impressions of northern Africa, though it may be admitted that the following "Marche Militaire," if Saint-Saëns heard it played by natives, was performed by those who had learned their lessons of European bandmasters.
" Marehe Militaire " from " Suite Algerienne "
Played by New York Philharmonic Orehestra
Columbia Record A 5998
Saint-Saëns's versatility, faithfully reflected in his music, has sometimes been held against him. Said Edmond Schuré:
"One could say of Mr. Saint-Saëns: 'He never changes his style. He practises all with equal ease.' It would be impossible to define the individuality that is observed in the whole body of his works. . . . Try to grasp him, lo ! he is changed into a siren. Are you under the spell? He turns himself into a mocking-bird. Do you think you hold him at last? He mounts to the clouds as a hippogriff!"
It is true that Saint-Saëns has studied and assimilated the characteristics of many schools of music, old and new; that he has cast his genius in a multitude of molds; that he prefers to be impersonal in his art. But these are not his only characteristics. First of all, there is his love of a clear and ordered beauty; his understanding of this principle in the works of great masters who have lived before him; his modesty and good taste in desiring to speak only of fine things in his music, and this with as little fuss and feathers as possible. Also, there is his genuine independence of mind. Saint-Saëns may have entertained himself with this or that experiment. He may have pondered thoughtfully and appreciatively the artistic discoveries of this or that school, and applied them in his works. As a young man he was censured because of his enthusiastic adherence to the standards of Liszt and other composers, then considered dangerous. But, after all, he has remained aware of his own convictions, his own mission as an artist. Today, the younger men, the wilder spirits, call Saint-Saëns a hopeless conservative. He can afford to smile. What has he not done for music in France? After Berlioz, who called him, in 1867, "One of the greatest musicians of our era," Saint-Saëns is the first to have promoted the cause of instrumental and symphonic composition in his own country, to have drawn composers in France out of dangerous ruts of provincialism. Before him the French musician dreamed of one kind of success the success, too often superficial, of the theater and opera-house. Saint-Saëns has solidified the whole musical development of modern France. He can rest secure on his laurels. Few, indeed, have undertaken so much, succeeded so well, given pleasure to so many. His work is lasting testimony to his achievement as artist and man.
