DEBUSSY'S PELLÉAS ET MÉLISANDE ***

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DEBUSSY'S PELLÉAS ET MÉLISANDE

[Illustration: _Claude Debussy (From the painting by Jacques Blanche)_]

A GUIDE TO THE OPERA

WITH MUSICAL EXAMPLES FROM THE SCORE

BY

LAWRENCE GILMAN

AUTHOR OF "PHASES OF MODERN MUSIC," "THE MUSIC OF TO-MORROW," "STORIES OF SYMPHONIC MUSIC," "EDWARD MACDOWELL" (IN "LIVING MASTERS OF MUSIC" SERIES) "STRAUSS' 'SALOME,'" ETC.

NEW YORK G. SCHIRMER 1907

TO THE MEMORY OF

GUSTAVE SCHIRMER

A MUSIC LOVER OF LIBERAL TASTE AND SENSITIVE APPRECIATION AND AN INFLUENTIAL FORCE IN THE PROMOTION OF THE FINER THINGS OF THE ART TO WHICH HIS LIFE WAS DEVOTED

CONTENTS

I. DEBUSSY AND HIS ART

II. THE PLAY ITS QUALITIES ITS ACTION

III. THE MUSIC A REVOLUTIONARY SCORE THE THEMES AND THEIR TREATMENT

DEBUSSY'S PELLÉAS ET MÉLISANDE

"It is not an ill thing to cross at times the marches of silence and see the phantoms of life and death in a new way. It is not an ill thing, even if one meet only the fantasies of beauty."--FIONA MACLEOD.

I

DEBUSSY AND HIS ART

With the production at Paris in the spring of 1902 of Claude Debussy's _Pelléas et Mélisande_, based on the play of Maeterlinck, the history of music turned a new and surprising page. "It is necessary," declared an acute French critic, M. Jean Marnold, writing shortly after the event, "to go back perhaps to _Tristan_ to find in the opera house an event so important in certain respects for the evolution of musical art." The assertion strikes one to-day, five years after, as, if anything, over-cautious. _Pelléas et Mélisande_ exhibited not simply a new manner of writing opera, but a new kind of music--a new way of evolving and combining tones, a new order of harmonic, melodic and rhythmic structure. The style of it was absolutely new and absolutely distinctive: the thing had never been done before, save, in a lesser degree, by Debussy himself in his then little known earlier work. Prior to the appearance of _Pelléas et Mélisande_, he had put forth, without appreciably disturbing the musical waters, all of the extraordinary and individual music with which his fame is now associated, except the three orchestral "sketches," _La Mer_ (composed in 1903-1905 and published in the latter year), the piano pieces _Estampes_ (1903), and _Images, Masques, l'Île joyeuse_ (1905), and a few songs. Certain audiences in Paris had heard, nine years before, his setting of Rossetti's "Blessed Damozel" (_La Demoiselle Élue_), a "lyric poem" for two solo voices, female chorus, and orchestra; in the same year (1893) his string quartet was played by Ysaÿe and his associates; in 1894 his _Prélude à l'Après-midi d'un Faune_ was produced at a concert of the National Society of Music; the first two Nocturnes for orchestra, _Nuages_ and _Fêtes_, were played at a Lamoureux concert in 1900; the third, _Sirènes_, was performed with the others in the following year. Yet it was not until _Pelléas et Mélisande_ was produced at the Opéra-Comique in April, 1902, that his work began seriously to be reckoned with outside of the small and inquisitive public, in Paris and elsewhere, that had known and valued--or execrated--it.

In this score Debussy went far beyond the point to which his methods had previously led him. It was, for all who heard it or came to know it, a revelation of the possibilities of tonal effect--this dim and wavering and elusive music, with its infinitely subtle gradations, its gossamer fineness of texture, its delicate sonorities, its strange and echoing dissonances, its singular richness of mood, its shadowy beauty, its exquisite and elaborate art--this music which drifted before the senses like iridescent vapor, suffused with rich lights, pervasive, imponderable, evanescent. It was music at once naïve and complex, innocent and impassioned, fragile and sonorous. It spoke with an accent unmistakably grave and sincere; yet it spoke without emphasis: indirectly, flexibly, with fluid and unpredictable expression. It was eloquent beyond denial, yet its reticence, its economy of gesture, were extreme--were, indeed, the very negation of emphasis. Is it strange that such music--hesitant, evasive, dream-filled, strangely ecstatic, with its wistful and twilight loveliness, its blended subtlety and simplicity--should have been as difficult to trace to any definite source as it was, for the general, immensely astonishing and unexpected?