On Thursday, March 17, 1894, the 239th concert of the Société nationale de musique was presented at the Salle Érard in Paris. It was the first time a piece composed by Florent Schmitt had appeared on any Parisian music program.
Among the two mélodies by Schmitt presented that evening by contralto Nelly Guénia was one titled simply Lied – a work which would eventually become the first of three mélodies gathered together in a set published by Durand as Schmitt’s Opus 4.
Although not published as a set until 1911 (Durand), the three mélodies come from the composer’s very early creative period, having been composed in 1892-95 when Schmitt was in his early- to mid-twenties and still under the influence of his Paris Conservatoire composition teachers Jules Massenet and Gabriel Fauré. These early art songs inhabit the world of “voluptuous late-romanticism,” and while they are very much a product of their time, the pieces also give clear indications of the kind of originality that would soon come from Schmitt’s pen during his Prix de Rome sojourn and in the years immediately following.Also notably, the Trois mélodies, Op. 4 took their literary inspiration from contemporary writers instead of the poets of yesteryear. This was a practice that Florent Schmitt would follow for the rest of his life, where we find him returning again and again to the human voice — nearly always setting texts of modern-day poets.
The three pieces that make up the Trois mélodies, Op.4 are as follows:
- Lied (text by Camille Mauclair … dedicated to Mme. la Comtesse de Chaumont-Quitry)
- Il pleure dans mon coeur (text by Paul Verlaine … dedicated to Mme. Meyrianne Héglon)
- Fils de la Vierge (text by Maurice Ganivet … dedicated to Mme. Marguerite Ida Premsel Sulzbach)
The first item in the set – Lied – was composed in the early 1890s. Inspired by the dark poetry of Camille Mauclair [Séverin Faust], the text translates into English from the original French as shown below. (N.B.: All English translations of the Op. 4 texts in this article are courtesy of Hermann Klein and Edward Rushton.)
The roses of yesteryear are dead – dead as the dusk.
The roses of yesteryear have shed their petals in the wind which intones a song of the forsaken,
From their silence never to awaken,
The song of one forsaken, faintly sobbing in the twilight.
The lament of the forsaken glimmers in foliage like the gold of a garland old and broken,
Lying here, mourned in the twilight of one now dead,
As on a forehead at once so sad and void, dreaming of the death of a past year,
O sweet, faded Ariane.
Mauclair’s style of writing leaves little doubt that he was an admirer and fellow-traveler of Stéphane Mallarmé and Maurice Maeterlinck. Considering the similarities in writing style, it’s no surprise that Mauclair’s poetry attracted other composers beyond Schmitt to set his verse to music – among them Ernest Chausson, Gustave Charpentier, Ernest Bloch and Nadia Boulanger.
Pianist and composer Edward Rushton, who with bass-baritone René Perler has made the first (and to-date only) commercial recording of the complete Trois mélodies, Op. 4, recognizes Schmitt’s budding originality in the Lied, noting:
“Some of Schmitt’s personal and highly individual fingerprints are already audible, such as the descending chain of fifths, a tritone apart, that curls through Lied, providing a stark counterpoint to the deliberately monotonous vocal line.”
The second item in the set – Il pleure dans mon coeur (“There is crying in my heart”) – is based on the poetry of Paul Verlaine. This mélodie was composed by Schmitt in 1894, just two years before Verlaine would die from alcoholism and related ailments at the prematurely young age of 51.
[Verlaine’s tumultuous life reads like a screenplay for a movie about an archetypical “tortured artist” – similar in some respects to the American writer Edgar Allan Poe — equally recognized in France for his literary greatness.]
The English translation of Verlaine’s words as set to music by Florent Schmitt is as follows:
There is crying in my heart, like the rain on a quiet town.
What is this vague unrest now pervading my heart?
O gentle sound of the rain on the ground and on the roofs,
For a yearning heart, the song of the rain,
There is no reason for the crying in this heart that has lost heart.
What – no betrayal? This mourning has no reason.
Surely ‘tis the worst pain to know not why,
Without love and without hate, such pain remains in my heart!
Florent Schmitt’s music conveys a sense of past pleasures recalled in a bleak present, but the overall feeling is one of hopelessness. Done with uncommon effectiveness, to my ears Schmitt brings out the pathos of the text more poignantly than Fauré in his own musical treatment of the same Verlaine poem.
Pianist Edward Rushton takes things a step further, noting:
“Verlaine’s poem seems to have been obligatory for all French — and many international — composers of that period to set to music. I find Schmitt’s musical response to this poetry particularly lovely; it’s worlds apart from the spleenishness of Debussy and Fauré’s settings (to name two of the most familiar ones).”
The third number in the Op. 4 mélodies – Fils de la Vierge (“Gossamer”) – is set to verse by Maurice Ganivet. Comparatively little biographical information survives about this French diplomat and poet who lived from 1849 to 1884. His verse was set to music by a number of French composers active in the second half of the nineteenth century including Émile Spencer, Édouard Deransart, Charles Thony and Jean-Baptiste de Crozc — none of them as prominent as Florent Schmitt.
[At approximately the same time as Fils de la Vierge, Florent Schmitt set another Ganivet poem to music – Nature morte – published as the first of his Deux chansons, Op. 2.]
Considering the characteristics of the text that inspired Florent Schmitt, Ganivet seems not have been a writer quite matching the caliber of a Verlaine or Mauclair. That being said, the English translation of Fils de la Vierge certainly succeeds in tugging at the heartstrings:
Like shimmering threads which, ‘tis said, are by the Virgin sown,
With fragments drawn from her crown,
From flower to flower across the fields,
Fine golden threads of celestial light.
The flowered fancies of my thoughts,
Have my soul imprisoned which, paralyzed, cannot take flight.
I live as a recluse, for I know that if ever this dream may cease,
To be free will mean to be no more.
Compared to Florent Schmitt’s treatment of the Mauclair text in Lied, in his settings of the Verlaine and Ganivet the musical style seems more conventionally late-romantic. Even so, pianist Edward Rushton notes that “both songs end on unresolved harmonies – surely a sign of rebellion from a 24-year-old composer uninterested in following rules.”
As noted above, the first of the Trois mélodies was first heard in concert in Paris in 1894, but it wouldn’t be until 1900 that the complete set was presented in recital, as part of a program sung by soprano Suzanne Cesbron at the Sarah Bernhardt Theatre in Paris.
The Op. 4 mélodies had to wait until 1911 to be published as a set (brought out by Durand), but before then they had already been appearing on various French and European recital programs, either individually or as a group.
The first news reports I have found of the Op. 4 complete set being performed in the United States was at a recital presented by contralto Ethel Grow with collaborating pianist Albert Baker for the benefit of the MacDowell Colony Fund, given at the Plaza Hotel in New York City in January 1923 under the auspices of the Washington Heights Musical Club. A review of the recital, published in the February 8, 1923 issue of Musical Courier magazine, stated in part:
“A program of rare merit was given in a manner that delighted those present and won a very real success for the singer, who was forced to respond to demands for many encores. Miss Grow has a voice and brains – and in song one is just as important as the other, especially when the singer undertakes music of a highly aesthetic character like the things from the modern French … some of the songs heard, possibly, for the first time in New York.
The Schmitt songs … are really lovely, and why they are not more often sung in this city is one of the mysteries. Miss Grow made much of them – the wide range of her voice and its pathetic intensity being most grateful to this strange, elusive music.”
Moving forward a decade, it’s interesting to discover the esteem that Florent Schmitt must have felt for these early art songs – to the degree that he chose to program them during his first and only American tour in 1932-33. In New York City, Schmitt’s November 1932 Town Hall recital (presented under the sponsorship of the League of Composers) included selections from the vocal set Kérob-Shal, which had been composed in the early 1920s in a much more daring musical style. But in Detroit, Schmitt’s December 2, 1932 concert (presented under the auspices of the ProMusica Detroit organization), instead included the Op. 4 Trois mélodies, sung by soprano Florence Armstrong Chapin with the composer at the keyboard.
In hindsight, we can recognize that after the first two decades of the twentieth century, Schmitt’s Trois mélodies essentially disappeared from the performing repertoire. That’s hardly surprising, since its late-romantic idiom had become decidedly out of fashion while also being rather unrepresentative of Schmitt’s later (and more recognizably original) style.
Despite its near-total obscurity, in our time the French countertenor Philippe Jaroussky has included Il pleure dans mon coeur in recitals presenting musical settings of the poetry of Paul Verlaine. Furthermore, Jaroussky and pianist Jérôme Ducros made a commercial recording of the Schmitt excerpt on the Erato label in 2014.
But the world had to wait until 2020 for the first commercial recording of the complete Trois mélodies, Op. 4 to appear. Released on the Resonus Classics label during Florent Schmitt’s 150th birthday anniversary year, the premiere recording features Swiss bass-baritone René Perler joined by with English pianist (and ardent Florent Schmitt advocate) Edward Rushton. The Resonus recording, devoted exclusively to vocal music by Schmitt, has generated well-deserved critical accolades.
Moreover, the Perler/Rushton performance has now been uploaded to YouTube along with the score, so listeners can follow along to “see as well as hear” the music.
Doing so will reveal Florent Schmitt’s sensitivity and effectiveness in capturing the “essence” of the texts — as well as illustrating the significant distance his musical artistry had already traveled in the short time since he’d begun his composition studies with Jules Massenet and Gabriel Fauré at the Paris Conservatoire.
Furthermore, in becoming acquainted with this music we discover that, far from sounding faded or dated, to 21st century ears these Trois mélodies possess qualities that are, in fact, timeless.