Musical Memories | Page 9

a minor key. Another wanted violins,
for "violins produce an excellent effect in the open air." Naturally we
got nowhere.
The great procession started in perfect order, but, as in all long
processions, gaps occurred. I was astonished to find myself in the
middle of the Champs Elysées, in a wide open space, with no one near
me but Ferdinand de Lesseps, Paul Bert, and a member of the
Académie, whose name I shall not mention as he is worthy of all
possible respect.
De Lesseps was then at the height of his glory, and from time to time
applause greeted him as he passed.
Suddenly the Academician leaned over and whispered in my ear,

"Evidently they are applauding us."
CHAPTER IV
THE HISTORY OF AN OPÉRA-COMIQUE
Young musicians often complain, and not without reason, of the
difficulties of their careers. It may, perhaps, be useful to remind them
that their elders have not always had beds of roses, and that too often
they have had to breast both wind and sea after spending their best
years in port, unable to make a start. These obstacles frequently are the
result of the worst sort of malignity, when it is for the best interest of
everyone--both of the theatres which rebuff them, and the public which
ignores them--that they be permitted to set out under full sail.
In 1864 one of the most brilliant of the reviews had the following
comments to make on this subject:
Our real duty--and it is a true kindness--is not to encourage them
(beginners) but to discourage them. In art a vocation is everything, and
a vocation needs no one, for God aids. What use is it to encourage them
and their efforts when the public obstinately refuses to pay any
attention to them? If an act is ordered from one of them, it fails to go.
Two or three years later the same thing is tried again with the same
result. No theatre, even if it were four times as heavily subsidized as the
Théâtre-Lyrique, could continue to exist on such resources. So the
result is that they turn to accredited talent and call on such men from
outside as Gounod, Felicien David and Victor Massé. The younger
composers at once shout treason and scandal. Then, they select
masterpieces by Mozart and Weber and there are the same outcries and
recriminations. In the final analysis where are these young composers
of genius? Who are they and what are their names? Let them go to the
orchestra and hear Le Nozze di Figaro, _Obéron_, Freischutz and
_Orphée_ ... we are doing something for them by placing such models
before them.
The young composers who were thus politely invited to be seated
included, among others, Bizet, Delibes, Massenet, and the writer of

these lines. Massenet and I would have been satisfied with writing a
ballet for the Opéra. He proposed the Rat Catcher from an old German
tale, while I proposed _Une nuit de Cléopâtra_ on the text of Théophile
Gautier. They refused us the honor, and, when they consented to order
a ballet from Delibes, they did not dare to trust him with the whole
work. They let him do only one act and the other was given to a
Hungarian composer. As the experiment succeeded, they allowed
Delibes to write, without assistance, his marvellous _Coppélia_. But
Delibes had the legitimate ambition of writing a grand opera. He never
reached so far.
[Illustration: The Paris Opéra]
Bizet and I were great friends and we told each other all our troubles.
"You're less unfortunate than I am," he used to tell me. "You can do
something besides things for the stage. I can't. That's my only
resource."
When Bizet put on the delightful _Pêcheurs de Perles_--he was helped
by powerful influences--there was a general outcry and an outbreak of
abuse. The Devil himself straight from Hell would not have received a
worse reception. Later on, as we know, Carmen was received in the
same way.
I was, indeed, able to do something beside work for the stage, and it
was just that which closed the stage to me. I was a writer of
symphonies, an organist and a pianist, so how could I be capable of
writing an opera! The qualities which go to make a pianist were in a
particularly bad light in the greenroom. Bizet played the piano
admirably, but he never dared to play in public for fear of making his
position worse.
I suggested to Carvalho that I write a Macbeth for Madame Viardot.
Naturally enough he preferred to put on Verdi's Macbeth. It was an
utter failure and cost him thirty thousand francs.
They tried to interest a certain princess, a patron of the arts, in my
behalf. "What," she replied, "isn't he satisfied