Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 4, No. 6 (1930-03)

yiarch, 1930 The Phonograph Monthly Review 193 Massenet and His Music by JAMES HADLEY ( Werther; continuation) With a tender gesture of consolation, Sophie leaves the room. As the door softly closes, Char- lotte kneels and desperately prays for strength. There is a superb crescendo in the orchestra, and Werther appears in the doorway; he is pale and distraught. “Yes! it is I!” he says, heavily; “I have return- ed, despite myself/' Charlotte forces herself to appear calm. “Will you not come in?”, she says, gently; “See! here is the poem of Ossian which you once began to translate for me!” “Yes! Yes!—how well I remember”, murmurs Werther, and, as he reads aloud the familiar lines, he unconsciously sings of his own love. The wonderful verses and the memory of the past break down all barriers. Charlotte is overcome and falls half fainting in his arms, though hard- ly have his lips met hers than she tears herself from his embrace. “No! No!—our love is a sin; we must never meet again—farewell—for the last time,” she gasps, and rushes from the room. This magnificent scene—one of the finest that modern opera can show—is recorded upon two .ides of a 12-inch disk. I. “Oui, c’est moi . . . je reviens.” 2. N’achevez pas, helas!” The repro- duction is unusually fine. It is sung with much emotional power by Mile. Lucy Perelli and M. Marcelin. This fine record was brought to my notice by Mr. Koonz, the genial manager of the New York Band Instrument Co., at 111 East 14th St. Sympathetic and discriminating in his musi- cal taste, the gentleman has my sincere gratitude for his suggestion that put this beautiful music in my library. The number of the disk is W. 851. The song of Ossian, “Ah! non mi ridestar,” (Do not waken me) sung with rare beauty of tone by the eminent Battistini, remains a model in every way. It is my favorite. It is from the catalogue of the Gramophone Co. of England, (DB 149). The same Company offers a very fine interpretation of this aria by the famous Russian lyric tenor, Leonid Sobinoff, (DB 891). If the careful music-lover desires to preserve the dra- matic unities, the song of Ossian should be played between Parts 1 and 2 of the Grand Duo men- tioned above, that being the order followed in the opera Werther. Prelude, Act 4, “La Nuit de Noel,” (Christmas Eve). It is a “Fonotipia” record, played by the Grande Orchestra Sinfonico di Parigi (9178-R: 172005). In annotating this record, we cannot do better than to quote the wholly admirable and imagina- tive description by Miss Wagnalls:— “The scene is in the village. It is Christmas Eve, nearing midnight. The snow is falling in wild gusts—but more chilling than hail or snow are those suddent blasts of chords and octaves falling one on top of the other, down, down until they join and melt into the steady tremolo of the bass. During this Introduction the winter scene on the stage remains the same. The snow con- tinues to fall, and we hear it in the orchestra— a steady movement of double-thirds over which play varying melodies like Christmas lights. The musicians turn their leaves once, twice—three times, but still that slowly palpitating accompani- ment goes on. There is something appalling in this persistency. What was at first delightful becomes oppressive, for we are somehow remind- ed that falling snow can bury the living and hide the dead.” This “tone-picture” is of exceptional interest. Beautifully recorded and picturesquely descrip- tive, it is decidedly “something different.” The Paris premiere of “Werther” was at the Opera-Comique in 1893. It was distinguished by the presence of Mme. Delna in the cast of sing- ers. She is considered to be unequalled in the exacting role of Charlotte. New York first saw “Werther” at the Metropolitan Opera House in April, 1894. Madame Emma Eames was consid- ered by some to be rather too aristocratic in her bearing for the role of the middle-class German fraulein, but she was a vision of radiant beauty, and it is generally conceded that no one else has ever sung the music as she did. In 1910, at the New Theatre (now, the “Century”) Geraldine Farrar assumed the role of Charlotte. Though sung with great charm, Miss Farrar’s mercurial and bewitching personality refused to be subdued, and the Bailiff’s quiet and undemonstrative daughter was presented in an entirely new light. In “Werther,” however, Miss Farrar did some of the best singing of her entire career. The “Clair de Lune,” as sung by Geraldine Farrar and Ed- mond Clement, is a memory of unforgettable loveliness. As a fitting climax to our feast of musical beauty, we have here an unusually attractive or- chestral Fantaisie on the principal melodies from Massenet’s most beautiful opera. Some of these airs will cling to the mind at the very first hear- ing, while others can be heard again and again with constantly increasing pleasure at the dis- covery of details that had previously escaped at- tention. “Werther,” Fantaisie; Parts 1 and 2, played by the Grand Orchestre Symphonique du Gramo- phone. It is a production of the F. G. Co., (L. 356). It is difficult to understand how this work, so essentially German in its entire scheme, should have made such an irresistible appeal to the French imagination. Indeed, Goethe has proved a veritable treasure-house of inspiration, in more than one instance. His “Faust” drew from