Scene 3 Cleopatra is still bewailing the fortunes of war and the way they have turned against her, when Caesar comes in, victorious, followed by soldiers.
Scene 4 At the port of Alexandria there is played a “victory symphony”; Caesar crowns Cleopatra as Queen of Egypt; they sing a love duet; and the chorus sings a paean to happiness.
LAKMÉ
Opera in three acts by Léo Delibes with libretto
in French by Edmond Gondinet and
Philippe Gille generally said to be based on
Pierre Loti’s Le Mariage de Loti but bearing
only a faint resemblance to that novel
NILAKANTHA, a Brahman priest Bass-baritone
LAKMé, his daughter Soprano
MALLIKA, her slave Mezzo-soprano
English ladies
ELLEN Soprano
ROSE Soprano
MISTRESS BENSON, their governess Mezzo-soprano
GERALD, an English officer Tenor
FREDERICK, another Baritone
Time: late 19th century
Place: India
First performance at Paris, April 14, 1883
Few music-lovers today know much of Léo Delibes’s music outside of his two charming ballet scores, Sylvia and Coppélia, and, of course, Lakmé—or at least its Bell Song. Despite the color and good, old-fashioned drama of its setting, the opera is given today, outside of France, only as an occasional vehicle for a famous and pretty coloratura soprano. In France, however, it remains popular, having received some 1500 performances at the Opéra Comique in Paris, since its premiere in 1883. On that occasion a Brooklyn-born coloratura, Marie van Zandt, sang it with such success that the role, for some time, was identified with her. However, a list of those sopranos who have essayed the role would include practically every great coloratura up to almost the present day, including Adelina Patti, Marcella Sembrich, Luisa Tetrazzini, Amelita Galli-Curci, and Lily Pons—not to mention quite a few who had no particular business trying.
ACT I
The story takes place in nineteenth-century India, whereas everyone knows—the British were riding high, wide, and handsome. When the opera opens, the priest Nilakantha is in his sacred garden exhorting his followers to await the day when the British shall be driven from the land. Off-stage, comes the voice of his daughter, Lakmé, and gradually her voice grows stronger, as she comes on stage and leads the men in their prayer to the god Siva.
When the prayer is over, everyone leaves the garden excepting Lakmé and her slave Mallika, who, together, oblige with a charming barcarolle in thirds. Because they are planning to bathe, Lakmé removes her jewels and places them on a bench before shoving off in a boat with Mallika.
Now there are visitors of another sort. They are two British officers—Gerald and Frederick—their friends from home, Ellen and Rose, and, as a chaperone, the young ladies’ governess, Mrs. Benson. All five break into the garden, even though they know they have no business there, to admire the beautiful white flowers. These flowers—naturalists call them datura stramonium—are poisonous, and on the warnings of Frederick the party does not touch them. We shall hear more of them in the last act.
Happening on Lakmé’s jewels, Gerald is so enchanted that he stays on to make a drawing of them when the others leave. Here he has his charming aria Prendre le dessin d’un bijou.
Naturally, as Gerald is the leading tenor, Lakmé returns and finds him there. And as Lakmé is the leading soprano, the two must fall in love at first sight. And as they fall in love at first sight, a love duet must be sung. But this love duet is a little different, for Lakmé keeps warning Gerald that if he is found in the garden, he may very well be killed. At first Gerald cannot take this warning seriously. After all, he is an officer in the army of Queen Victoria. But finally Lakmé persuades him to leave, and it is only just in time. For Nilakantha returns with his followers and, outraged by the desecration of the holy garden, vows that the man who was there must die. The other Hindus take up the cry of vengeance.
ACT II
It is a feast day for the Hindus, and our various British friends are at the bustling bazaar to watch and be amused. Mrs. Benson has her watch stolen; Rose and Ellen are excited by all the activity; and the two officers are having their last good time, for tomorrow they are off to the wars. Gerald admits that he has seen the charming young priestess Lakmé, and the others are quite curious about her, in a superior British sort of way. There is also a fine ballet, danced by the natives.
Presently the vengeful priest Nilakantha enters, disguised as a beggar. He seems to have learned that Gerald was in the garden and that he has fallen in love with Lakmé. He demands that his daughter sing, and she obliges with the famous Bell Song. It is the legend of a Hindu maiden and how she attracted the great god Vishnu with her bells. Nilakantha hopes that Lakmé’s singing will attract Gerald so that he may murder him. As British soldiers march by, to drums and fifes, Nilakantha gathers his followers, and they hide to surprise Gerald.
Sure enough, Gerald appears; and in their second love duet Lakmé urges him to join her in a hidden spot where she may guard him. He, however, is all for Queen and duty, and he declines this tempting invitation. He might just as well have accepted it, for now the holiest of the processions arrives, carrying the image of the goddess Dourga, and singing to it. Under cover of the excitement created by the procession, Nilakantha sneaks in, stabs Gerald, and quietly makes off. Lakmé rushes over to the fallen English officer, sees that the wound is not fatal, and joyfully plans to take him to her hidden grotto to recover.
ACT III
This grotto is a beautiful spot, full of lush flowers, and Gerald lies quietly on his sickbed as Lakmé nurses him and sings to him. When he awakes, he is enchanted with both his surroundings and his affectionate nurse and tells us so in most persuasive musical phrases.
Now, off-stage, there is a chorus of Indian lovers singing as they go to a secret spring whose waters will make them forever faithful. Lakmé, too, goes there, to get some of the magic water for her lover.
But while she is gone, Frederick comes in. He has been looking everywhere for his fellow-officer and is delighted to find him greatly improved. Their regiment, he says, is about to depart, and Gerald reacts as any British officer should: duty first. When Lakmé returns, she suspects that he will not remain faithful. In the distance there is the sound of marching soldiers, and Gerald refuses the magical drink. In despair Lakmé secretly takes some of the poisonous datura blossoms and eats them, just before Gerald decides to drink of the magic waters after all. But it is too late. The vengeful Nilakantha rushes in and is about to strike Gerald dead when Lakmé intervenes. If the gods must have a victim, she cries, let it be herself! Only now do they see that she is dying. Gerald is heartbroken, but Nilakantha closes the opera with the ecstatic thought that his daughter will forever live with Brahma.
LOHENGRIN
Opera in three acts by Richard Wagner with
libretto in German by the composer based
largely on a medieval poem, the Wartburgkrieg
HENRY THE FOWLER. King of Germany Bass
LOHENGRIN Tenor
ELSA OF BRABANT Soprano
FREDERICK OF TELRAMUND, Count of Brabant Baritone
ORTRUD, his wife Soprano or Mezzo-soprano
THE KING’S HERALD Baritone or Bass
Time: 933
Place: Antwerp
First performance at Weimar, August 28, 1850
The history of Lohengrin furnishes an interesting footnote to the eternal argument over whether an opera should be given in its original language or in the language of the audience listening. Before the composer, who was also conductor at the Dresden Opera, could produce his new work, he had to flee from Germany on account of his revolutionary sentiments. That was in 1849, when revolution was rife in the land. His temporary home was Switzerland, where there was no chance to produce this opera, and so he turned, in hope, to France and England. But despite the fact that Wagner prid
ed himself as much on his poetry as on his music, it never occurred to him to suggest that either of these countries should produce his operas in German. He wrote to his friend Eduard Devrient at this time: “My immediate object is to get my latest opera Lohengrin translated into English and performed in London.” Nothing came of these efforts and, as a matter of fact, the first London performance of the opera, which took place over twenty years later, was in neither German nor English, but in Italian.
When the premiere of the work did finally take place a year later, it had the benefit of the original German language, for it was given for a German audience. It occurred in Weimar in 1850, while Wagner was still in exile. The orchestra boasted only five first violins and six seconds, with thirty-eight pieces in all, while the chorus numbered under thirty. Despite the best efforts of the conductor, who was Wagner’s great champion and father-in-law-to-be, Franz Liszt, the opera was not well received. (How could it have been with such inadequate forces?)
Liszt reported all the details to the absent composer, and the great Richard was very angry. The performance had taken something over four hours, and Wagner decided that Liszt must have played everything too slowly. However, Wagner had never heard the opera even rehearsed with an orchestra, however small; he had only played it for himself on a piano. He therefore did not realize that those long, sustained passages at the beginning of the prelude—as well as many others like them—are best played very, very slowly by an orchestra. On a piano, which cannot sustain a chord evenly for more than a moment, it would have to go faster. Eleven years later, when Wagner heard a full performance for the first time, in Vienna, he agreed that Liszt had been right. A full performance, without cuts and not counting intermissions, takes upwards of three and a half hours. Therefore, many opera houses habitually cut passages here and there which only the genuine aficionado—and the inveterate libretto-reader—will notice.
PRELUDE
The well-beloved prelude is based almost entirely upon the theme of the Holy Grail and was romantically and quite accurately described by Wagner himself in these words:
“Out of the clear blue ether of the sky there seems to condense a wonderful yet at first hardly perceptible vision; and out of this there gradually emerges, ever more and more clearly, an angel host bearing in its midst the Holy Grail. As it approaches earth, it pours out exquisite odors, like streams of gold, ravishing the senses of the beholder. The glory of the vision grows and grows until it seems as if the rapture must be shattered and dispersed by the very vehemence of its expansion … The flames die away, and the angel host soars up again to the ethereal heights in tender joy …”
ACT I
Henry the Fowler, tenth-century ruler of Germany, arrives at Antwerp beside the river Scheldt. He addresses the assembled nobles of Saxony and Brabant, telling them of renewed war with the Eastern hordes, and they agree to follow him in battle. But, adds Henry, there is trouble locally, and he calls on Frederick, Count Telramund, to recite his complaint. Telramund steps forward and, with growing excitement, tells a strange story. The boy, Godfrey of Brabant, has disappeared. His sister, Elsa, whom Telramund had once intended to marry, had taken him into the woods, and the boy had never returned. There is but one explanation: she must have murdered him. Telramund has therefore married someone else—Ortrud of Friesland; and now, in the name of his wife, he claims to be the rightful ruler of Brabant. Elsa is then called upon and comes in, the picture of innocence, all dressed in white. She sings her famous aria, Elsa’s Dream, in which she tells of having seen a handsome knight who promised to come to her in time of need. The issue, it is agreed, must be tried in the good medieval tradition of trial by combat. But who will fight for Elsa? The Herald solemnly calls for a candidate once, but no one offers. He calls again. Again, no answer. Then Elsa and her handmaidens pray earnestly, and lo, in the distance, appears a knight in a boat, drawn up the river by a swan. The knight in shining armor lands. In a simple aria he thanks the swan, then turns to greet the King and to offer his services to Elsa. But first she must make two promises: she must agree to marry him, should he prove victorious, and she must agree never to ask his name or where he has come from. To both terms she consents. The fighting ground is measured off by the nobles; the Herald recites the rules of the combat; and the King leads the entire assemblage in an impressive prayer.
The fight itself is very brief. Telramund is struck to the ground; the stranger knight magnanimously spares his life; and the act concludes with general melodious rejoicing—a chorus of praise to the champion with the unknown name. I hardly think I am violating a secret if I say that the name of the unknown knight is Lohengrin.
ACT II
Although Telramund’s life has been spared, both he and his wife, Ortrud, are in disgrace. They have spent the night bickering on the steps of the cathedral of Antwerp, where Elsa and her rescuer are to be married in the morning. Before dawn Elsa appears on the balcony over the square, and Ortrud, pretending friendship, is invited in, and is given an honorable place at the wedding.
Dawn begins to break; the knights and others gather in the courtyard; and the Herald makes two important announces ments: Elsa and her champion are to be married that very morning, and the expedition against the Hungarians is to begin soon after under the new leader of Brabant—that is, of course, Lohengrin.
Then begins the long and beautiful Bridal Procession. All the knights and ladies gather and sing their blessings on the handsome couple. But suddenly Ortrud interrupts, taunting Elsa for not knowing the name or origin of her fiancé. Elsa is frightened, but she is rescued by the appearance of the King and her warrior. Ortrud is ordered away, and the procession begins again, only to be interrupted once more, this time by Telramund. Standing on the cathedral steps, and backed by four followers, he presses his charges even more strongly than Ortrud did. He demands that the King himself put the questions of name and origin to the stranger. Now the knight himself speaks up. He will answer no one, he says, but Elsa herself. Does she wish to question him? Well—Elsa is only human, and very, very feminine. For a longer time than any heroine really should she wavers. Then (but only after a very fine concerted number) she proceeds with the ceremonial without asking the fateful questions. Telramund manages to whisper to her that he will be standing by at night; but she dismisses him, and the procession moves on, joyously, to the cathedral.
Then, just as they are about to enter, Ortrud appears ominously once more. The music always associated with the fatal questions thunders out of the orchestra, and the act closes on a skillfully mixed note of doubt and joy.
ACT III
Scene 1 The exciting prelude to the third act leads, with a few bars of modulation, right into the celebrated Bridal Chorus. The attendants sing this to the happy couple on the night of their wedding, and then they leave them in their bridal chamber. Elsa and her still-unnamed knight—now her husband—sing a lovely duet, but then her doubts again begin to assert themselves. Her husband tries to allay them with an aria that compares her to the sweetest fragrances of nature. Yet the doubts will not down. Sternly he reminds her of the trust she owes him, and he repeats his protestations of love. But the poison that Ortrud and Telramund have poured into Elsa’s ear continues to work. She imagines she sees the swan returning to take her husband from her side. A madness seizes upon her, and over the protest of her husband she finally asks the fatal questions: “Tell me thy name … Whence dost thou come? … Where is thy home?”
Before he can answer (for answer he must), Telramund and four knights burst into the chamber. Swiftly Elsa hands over the sword, swiftly Lohengrin slays Telramund—with one supernatural stroke of his sword. “Now all our happiness is gone,” he sadly sighs, and he orders the corpse to be carried before the King and Elsa herself to appear in the royal presence.
Scene 2 With no pause the scene changes to the kingly presence, as it was in Act I. Telramund’s body is carried in, and his slayer explains what he has had to do. Then Elsa comes in; and now the knight
prepares to answer her questions. Quietly, but tensely, he tells of his home on the wondrous Mont Monsalvat, where a band of knights guards and serves the Holy Grail. Once every year a dove descends from heaven to renew its powers, and all its knights are guarded by it in their fights for innocence and truth. His father, says the knight, is Percival, king of all the knights of the Grail, and his own name is—Lohengrin. But now, he adds, since his secret is known, he must return. And however much he regrets it, he must leave, not only his bride, but King Henry.
Suddenly a cry is heard from those nearest the shore. The swan is seen returning, with the boat. Lohengrin goes to greet it and then turns once more to Elsa. Had she but waited a year, her young brother Godfrey would have been restored to her. Now, should he return, she must give him Lohengrin’s sword, horn, and ring; and with a final farewell he turns to the swan. Then a miracle occurs. The swan sinks into the river, and in his place comes the young Duke of Brabant—Godfrey! Bitterly the sorceress Ortrud relates how she had transformed the boy into a swan. Lohengrin, thereupon, falls upon his knees and prays. A dove is seen descending from the sky and, with a chain, carries off the knight in his boat. Elsa cries after him, “My husband, my husband!” and then sinks lifeless into Godfrey’s arms as the curtain falls.
Postscript for the historically curious: Although the story of Lohengrin is legendary, the events may be accurately dated. King Henry the Fowler’s reign is fairly well documented. In 923 he made a peace treaty with the Hungarians to last ten years. In his opening speech in the opera (often drastically cut) he tells the assembled warriors that the ten years have now elapsed.
100 Great Operas and Their Stories Page 23