780.92 P26k
Koechlin
Gabriel Ifcure

780.92

Koechlin

Gabriel

$1.65

GABRIEL FAURE

Charles Koechlin

GABRIEL FAURE

- 1924)

DENNIS DOBSON LTD,

29 Great Queen Street, London

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY LESLIE ORRY

8/R

Printed in Great Britain in lOpt, Times
by TOE PORTSDOWN PRESS LTD., Fleet Lane, London, E.C.4

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION vii

BIOGRAPHICAL ...... 1

WORKS

i Songs, Part-Songs, Choruses . 17

ii Church Music . , . . .27

iii Symphonic Music , .... 30

iv Piano Music . . . . .32

v Chamber Music . . . . .40

vi Miscellaneous Instrumental Pieces . . .46

vii The Stage 47

THE MAN AND HIS STYLE .... 61

LIST OF WORKS 87

BIBLIOGRAPHY 93

INDEX 94

!Ti JAN 13 1947

Introduction

There ate signs in this country that Gabriel Faure is at last about
to receive some of the recognition due to him, and there must be
many, both among his old admirers and among those who are only
just beginning to savour the distinctive delights of his style, who will
be eager to supplement the somewhat meagre biographical details
given in Grove and other reference books. This, the first Life of
Faure to appear in English, will, I hope, go some way towards satisfying
this demand.

There are, indeed, several reasons why Koechlin s monograph should
find a welcome among English readers. In the first place, it is of
value not only for the biographical details of Fatrre s life, but for its
discussion of practically the whole of his output, which, although
not vast, will no doubt appear surprisingly large and varied to all
but the few who know his work intimately.

Secondly, the unstinted praise which Koechlin lavishes on his
former teacher, supported by the numerous quotations from such
distinguished French musicians as Mme. Nadia Boulanger and M.
Emil Vuillermoz, Roger-Ducasse and Cortot, and reinforced by the
considerable bibliography which he appends, is an index of the esteem
in which Faure is held in his native land. This esteem, it should be
noted, is not confined to a narrow circle of the intelligentsia ; and
for proof of this one has but to turn to the lengthy list of his music
which, from time to time, has been made available on gramophone
records. The catalogue in " The Gramophone Shop Encyclopedia "
(New York, 1936), extends to over 60 works, including the String
Quartet, the C minor Piano Quartet, the 1st Violin Sonata, the Requiem
(complete) ,and the song cycles la Bonne Chanson and rHorizon
chimerique and this does not, of course include the important
recordings recently made of the Theme and Variations, and other
works. It would be idle to expect the general public to endorse this
opinion in its entirety, and indeed Koechlin himself confesses that
Faure s music is not for the multitude. Nevertheless there can be no
doubt that the circle of his friends is widening, and that more and
more English musicians are yielding to the spell of this " supremely
civilised music."

Finally, the book offers an admirable illustration of the temper of
French criticism in the 1920 s. Koechlin himself (born 1867) is
distinguished as both composer and critic, though few of his works
are known over here ; and what he has to say, no less than his manner
of saying it, is of interest to every student of modern French music.

The list of works, taken without alteration from Koechlin s original,
which in turn was founded on that in la Revue musicale of October
1922, is not quite complete. (1) Leon Vallas, in his " Claude Debussy :
his life and works," mentions , (p. 44 of the English translation) a
** Passion," rehearsed at one of the Societe nationale concerts, in 1890,

vii

which I have not been able to trace. (2) the catalogue in the Gramo
phone Shop Encyclopedia includes a recording (withdrawn), of a
Noel, " II est ne, le divin enfant," written when Faure was at the
Madeleine, but never published (recorded by Pathe). (3) Jankelevitch
mentions an " Aurore" still in manuscript, in the library of the Paris
Conservatoire. (4) There is also " Melisande s Song," to English
words, written for the London production. (5) The second String
Quartet which " Grove " mentions is certainly non-existent ; the
Quartet, Op. 121, was Faure s only essay in this form.

I have not thought it necessary to include, in the Bibliography, a list
of some two dozen articles from various French journals ; instead I
have added a few French books not included in Koechlin s list, and
also appended a short list of books and articles in English. For the
rest, I have left Koechlin s book as he wrote it, merely providing a few
notes here and there, and adding an Index.

My thanks are due to many friends in Cambridge for their interest
and help, with a particular debt of gratitude to Mrs. David Thomson ;
also to the Professor of Music and the University Library Authorities,
for permission to consult books and scores in the Pendlebury and
University Libraries ; and to the proprietors of la Revue musicale, for
permission to reproduce the fine drawing from the issue ot October,
1922. The picture used as frontispiece is due to the kind offices of
Mr. Felix Aprahamian, to whom I tender my sincere thanks for his
interest and help. Finally, I cannot say how much I owe to the
courtesy and patience of Mr. Dobson ; his help and advice through
all stages of the book s progress have been invaluable.

LESLIE ORREY,
Cambridge, May, 1945.

vm

Biographical

GABRIEL-URBAIN FAURE was born on 12th May, 1845, at
Pamiers, a little town in the Ariege District, in the South of France
near the Pyrennees. His forbears 1 , so M. Bruneau tells us, were
" active traders contributing prosaically but usefully to the nourishment
of their fellow-citizens " or, in less flowery language, butchers.
His father, a teacher at Gaillac-Toulza, married Madamoiselle de
Laleine-Laprade, daughter of a retired captain beautiful, but poor.
The couple, by no means in easy circumstances but highly cultivated,
had six children ; Gabriel was the last. His birthplace was in Rue
Major, near the market place. Baptised in the Church of Notre-
Dame du Camp, his infancy was spent with foster-parents in nearby
Verniolles, until his father (then sub-Inspector of elementary education)
was appointed Director of FEcole Normale at Montgauzy, not far
from Foix. The little Gabriel was by then four years old, and
returned to the family circle. This ficole Normale was located in
an old, disestablished convent, whose Chapel, however, still functioned.
The child had no greater joy than to go there and listen to the modest
harmonium, which was his introduction to music. All the splendours
of the mountains, too, were before his eyes, for the Chapel, as well
as the Chateau de Foix, overlooked the wonderful Barguilliere valley.
As M. Bruneau says, " Nature generously yielded her secret to this
simple child, a secret he could never forget ; she initiated him into
the intimate lyricism of the Universe."

The harmonium tempted Gabriel. He would give free rein to
his fancy, improvising at the instrument. It happened quite by chance
that he had for audience one day a lady, elderly, blind, and also an
excellent musician. Struck by his talents, she suggested to the parents
that he should be sent to 1 ficole Niedermeyer, a school which enjoyed
a great and justifiable reputation. It appears that M. Faur< pere
was not slow in raising a number of objections ; like so many others,
understanding nothing of the art of music, he regarded it merely
as an agreeable pastime. 2 Nevertheless, he wrote to the Director.
The fortunate coincidence of a concert tour bringing him as far as
Foix allowed the composer cf " Le Lac " 3 to verify these exceptional
gifts. The young musician s future appeared so bright that, seeing
the difficulties of the household, he took upon himself the expenses
of his education & fine generosity which smoothed away all obstacles.

L Ecole Niedermeyer, then as now, was a boarding establishment
where the teaching of music was supplemented by tuition in general
subjects. It was located in Rue Fontaine Saint-Georges (now Rue

^Grandfather and great-grandfather. Particulars from an Address given to the
Institute by the composer of Messidor.

2 Cy. V Independence musicale et drarwtique, September-October ; 1887 (H. Imbert,
Profils de musiciens : Gabriel Faure).

344 Le Lac," song by Niedermeyer to words by Lamartine, which achieved a con
siderable popularity. (7>.)

1

Cabriel Faure

Fromentin), not far from the " Remparts de Clichy." The bareness-
of his small bedroom, a state of things customary at the time, did
not seem hard to the boy, now nine years old (1854). The main
thing was the seriousness of his class studies, and the strict discipline
which these entailed ; but on the other hand the opportunity of
isolating his mind was never denied him, he was able to withdraw
into himself without being engrossed by a thousand mundane dis
tractions. All his life he treasured the memory of this schooling,
somewhat austere no doubt but most valuable to him.

The study of Gregorian Modes figured in the curriculum of the
school. It is impossible to attach too much importance to this,
and we shall return to it later. Niedenneyer, if one can trust his.
pupil, was an educationist of the front rank. He died in 1861, and
Harmony was thereafter taught by L. Dietsch, Mattre de chapelle
at the Madeleine, and Conductor at VOpera : " by nature frigid,
methodical but reactionary in mind." Fortunately, Faure was
admitted to the piano class, where he had as teacher Camille Saint-
Saens. And more than once in the course of time Faure has pro
claimed that he owed everything to this master. For Saint-Saens
did not restrict his role to that of a professor of piano however
scrupulous and exacting ; he opened the door to the whole of music.
Bach first, with the 48 ; and then, the class over, he sat himself down
to play Schumann, Liszt, even Wagner. Bear in mind that at this
time such modernists were known only to rare initiates, those imbued
by the modern spirit. 1 And remembering that Massenet was rejected
by Bazin 2 as too free, one realises the distance separating the teaching
at the Conservatoire from that which Gabriel Faure received. More
over, the master was eager to know the works of his pupils : *" he
read them with as much curiosity and care as if they were all
masterpieces." 3

The value of this education, complete, manysided, broad, and,
with its balance between discipline .and independence, encouraging
the development of the boy s talent, is seen in the songs composed
between 1865 and 1870, so novel for an epoch in which Adolphe
Adam, Victor Masse, Halevy and Meyerbeer still flourished. On
Sundays, with his inseparable Eugene Gigout, he would go off to
the hill of Montmartre, at that time in open country. And, according
to M. Bruneau, the sight of the monuments of Paris inspired in both
of them definite and precise ambitions. " I shall have the Madeleine,"
said Faure " And I, Saint- Augustin," replied Gigout. This was
the highest and most wholesome ambition possible ; a hard way of
life, poorly paid, but how profitable to the young musicians \ The
atmosphere, religious, serious and noble (despite sometimes a kck
of understanding on the part of the faithful, or even of the clergy)
and the thousand resources which the organ offers for improvisation,
led FaurS, like Franck, to the summits of musical art ; and ? in that

l And Scdnt-Saens was one of them ; see his Harmonic et Melodic.
*Jfazin (1816-78), Professor of Harmony, later of Composition., at the Cons erva
toire. (7>.)
*Cf. article by Paitrd on Saint-Saens in la Revue Musicale, February, 1922.

2

Biographical

extreme modesty which characterised him to the end of his days,
almost without him suspecting it.

With the first prize for piano, organ, harmony and composition,
he left 1 Ecole Niedermeyer and went off to Rennes some months
later (January, 1866) in the capacity of organist of Saint-Sauveur s.
He had already written, in 1 865, le Cantique de Racine, a work whose
Mendelssohnian style serves an inspiration delicate and profound,
quite ** Racinian " more personal than one realises on first hearing.
Other works, less successful (as for example le Papillon et la Fleur) 1
were not without some renown, whereas a song more decidedly
Faurian would doubtless at that time not have been understood. Also,
despite his surroundings and their influence on his technique, there
was nothing of the ascetic about him. It is not, I think, that he led
a very frivolous life. But the cure had to reproach him for smoking
cigarettes in the Church porch during the sermons. A more outrageous
prank caused great scandal ; having spent the night at a ball at the
Prefecture, he appeared at his organ seat in black coat and white tie.
This was beyond all bounds, and he was dismissed. Felix culpa^ for
on returning to Paris, appointed to Notre-Dame de Clignancourt
(1870) he renewed his acquaintanceship with Saint-Saens and threw
himself eagerly into the musical life of the city. Between 1865 and
1870, what had he composed? The first set of songs is by some
ascribed to this period, 2 but other authorities (e.g., the collection of
L. Cellier) suggest no more than one Prelude and Fugue. Which
are we to choose between these two extremes ? The second assumption
seems hardly credible, and we incline to the other.

In the month of August, 1870, war broke out, and Faure enlisted
in a regiment of voltigeurs. He was under fire at Champigny, and
fought courageously. He heard of the armistice while on a mission
as liaison officer, and, evading enlistment in the army of the Commune,
he crossed the federal lines by the aid of a false passport, reaching
Rambouillet where he awaited the victory of the Versailles armies.
Soon afterwards we find him at the organ of Saint-Honore d Eylau ;
later (still continuing to deputise for Saint-Saens at the Madeleine),
he assisted his friend Widor at Saint-Sulpice, and about the same time
he re-entered FEcole Niedermeyer this time as Professor, with Andre
Messager as his first pupil. On the resignation of Saint-Saens in
1877 Faure became Maltre de Chapelle at tie Madeleine in place
of Dubois, promoted to organist. The same year he journeyed to
Weimar with his master and friend for the premiere of Samson and
Delilah under Liszt, at the theatre of the Grand Duke. He heard
Valkyrie and Rhinegold at Cologne in 1878, and the complete tetralogy
at Munich in 1879.

His duties in connection with the Church left him with time not
only for his own work but for cultivating new friends. However,
no one was less pushful than he. But his musical talents, above all
his agreeable nature, procured him some useful acquaintances. Some

*This youthful trifle was sung at Rennes by Mme. Miolan-Carvalho.
*Cf. the chronological list of Faurfs compositions in la Revue Musicale ; the date
indicated for all these compositions is " about 1865."

Gabriel Faure

were among his brother professionals ; but the most numerous, and
perhaps the most convinced of his merit, were among cultivated,
intelligent people, who could sometimes discern something of the
magnitude of his future.

The Viardot family welcomed him with open arms. He himself
loved this salon., animated by the rough vigour of the Slav Turgeneff.
And then, he was not insensible to the beauty of Mile. Marianne.
The betrothal was decided ; but Pauline Viardot, above everything,
loved the stage, and she did not hesitate to make known this taste
to her future son-in-law, counting on his whole-hearted devotion
to it also. However, incredible as it will appear to those who see
in Faure only an " indolent charmeur" the young artist, faithful to
the profound intimacy of chamber music and song, refused to adopt
a way of life he did not think his own, 1 and, despite extreme sorrow,
he broke with the Viardots. Here is a rare example of conscience
and hidden energy ; the inner strength of the master is only too
often misunderstood, and it is a pleasure to point out this example
of his will-power.

The period under review is moreover one of the most active and
fruitful of a lifetime consecrated to work labour exclusively centred
on composition, had not the difficulties of making a living driven
him to other tasks as, in due course, that of Professor, and later
Director of that august institution the Paris Conservatoire. From
these years of his hard-working youth date the last songs of the first
set and many of the second (Nell, Automne, etc.). The first Violin
Sonata (1876) was played in 1878 at the Universal Exhibition, 2 and
was published by Breitkopf and Hartel ; no French firm would
undertake it. Faure here has definitely found himself. But he had
still to encounter many obstacles. The publication and performance
of such works did not get any easier. It takes so little in the art of
music to disconcert people ! Not that his harmony was unprecedented;
but, written in an unfamiliar idiom and serving for the expression of
new feelings, this music could not fail, very often, to be misunder
stood. The clearest example is that of Liszt. When, at Weimar,
at the time of the premiere of Samson and Delilah, Faure showed
him his Ballade, Liszt, withal so sound in judgment and generously
disposed, hastily read the manuscript and returned it to the composer
with the incredible remark, " It is too difficult." 3

Naturally, publishers still welcomed him but coldly, and only
Hamelle risked the venture. The risk at this time was small ; and,
besides, each song was bought for an average of 50 francs (with no
further rights on the sale). With the hard-headedness of the peasant
"pere Hamelle " proved sharper than his fellows ; and if he scarcely
filled the musician s pocket the latter, nevertheless, owed to him the
chance of having his works spread abroad, a difficult task while they
were still in manuscript. The Violin Sonata had slipped through

Mr least at that time, since Penelope was written much later, when he was past
sixty.

z The performers were the violinist Maurin, with the composer at the piano. In
1877 Saint-Saens wrote an enthusiastic article about this Sonata.
* Anecdote related by M. Bruneau in his address to the Institute.

Biographical

his hands, but he had his revenge with the first Quartet, acquired without
loosening his purse-strings ; x indeed, with no expense beyond the
engraving and printing. Added to this he had obtained, gratuitously,
the rights in the profitable Berceuse. But such is the destiny of pioneers.
Lalo, Franck, Debussy experienced similar difficulties, and no doubt
it would be the same to-day for any composer of originality who
took no advantage of the notoriety which a newcomer can always
claim among snobs, and by which the publishers in their turn are
influenced.

Happily, other support was forthcoming, and not only from among
the musicians themselves. 2 Less perhaps from his marriage, in 1883,
to Mile. Marie Fremiet, the daughter of the well-known sculptor, 3
than from other acquaintances. Madame Faure was essentially a
woman of the home, a faithful wife and devoted mother of her family,
absorbed in the care of her children ; her fine appearance is not
easily forgotten. 4 But, attached as she was to her husband, and eager
to see him appreciated at his true worth, she could do little to add
to his renown. Faure was forced to lead a life less homely than his
family not from choice, for he was not one of those flippant dilettantes
for whom music is no more than a diversion but in order to hear
and help forward his works.

The dedications of some of his songs show us that they were welcomed
by many of the fashionable singers : Mme. Henriette Escalier (after
wards Mme. Alexander Dumas), Mile. Baugnies (to-day, Mme. de
Saint-Marceaux), Mme. Qettelbach (Arpege), Mme. Sigismond Bardac
(now Mme. Claude Debussy), who, it is said, proved a wise counsellor,
and was the faithful interpreter of the admirable Bonne Chanson
which is dedicated to her.

You must bear in mind that this was the time when the composer
of Mignon held Faure to be a dangerous revolutionary. The latter
would have liked one of the composition classes at the Conservatoire.
The high official was indignant. Who did this intruder think he
was ? He was not Prix de Rome, was not even from the workshop
which produced them. " Faure, never ! If he is nominated, I
resign." This veto is authentic, confirmed by reliable witnesses.

Such ostracism need not astonish us. But the important thing
is that this " dangerous revolutionary " had proved himself a true
classic, and at the time of the refusal offered by the illustrious Thomas
no serious artist worthy of the name could ignore the masterly technique
which the Violin Sonata or the first Quartet already proclaimed. As
for the simple " melodies" Clair de lune suffices to reveal the great
musician.

In compensation, supported by the salons of intelligent people,
interpreted by excellent singers (Therese Roger, Jeanne Remade,

*He drove the same bargain for the second Quartet.

*We shall deal later with the Societe Nationale.

^However, Fremiefs help was precious when his son-in-law stood as candidate for
the Institute ; it had already been useful in support of his composition pupils in the
Rome competition. Faure was not on the Board of Examiners since the Institute had
not yet opened its doors to him.

*She died in 1925, scarcely a year after her husband.

5

Gabriel Faure

Mile. Fanny Lepine, then 1 Mme. J. Raunay, Mme. J. Bathori, Mile.
Gennaine Sanderson, Mme. Croiza, etc.). Faure saw himself under
stood, little by little, by some composers of his generation and above
all by the younger men. The Societe Nationale had been founded in
1871 and, as everybody knows, it has rendered great service to
symphonic art in France. Although it breathed sometimes a spirit
too exclusively Franckist (particularly after the death of Franck,
for disciples always overrate their master), it welcomed personalities
other than those disciples ; moreover, even among those, there were
many who were just in their attitude towards Faure notably that
broadminded and sincere artist, M. Duparc.

The Nationale was of great help to him ; he never tired of
acknowledging the debt and took care, right to the end, to reserve
for it the greater part of his first performances. It was the Nationale
which first presented the two Piano Quartets ; numerous and beautiful
songs ; Nocturnes ; Barcarolles. They were evenings of rare charm,
as were the concerts when later, between 1890 and 1900, the music
of Chabrier and Debussy came to console us with many a ray of light
in the prevailing darkness. On the other hand, the Requiem (1888)
was performed at the Madeleine where Faure, as has been said, was
Maitre de Chapelle. 2 The symphonic style tempted him less (and
besides, he accorded only secondary importance to the art of instru
mentation). A Violin Concerto, a Suite for Orchestra and a Symphony
in D Minor remain unpublished. Ever exacting where his own work
was concerned, the composer judged these vast compositions to be
too uneven and, who knows ? perhaps too ambitious.

Finally, for VOdeon he wrote : in 1888, the incidental music to
Alexander Dumas Caligula, and in 1889 that to Shylock (adapted
from Shakespeare by M. Haraucourt). The second set of songs was
almost finished ; after the second Piano Quartet (1886), these fruitful
years saw the birth of les Presents, Clair de lune, Nocturne, Larmes,
au Cimeliere, Spleen. And the collection " de Venise " 3 put the seal
on his reputation as an interpreter of Verlaine, apart from that unique
episode in his career, la Bonne Chanson. With Soir, Arpege and the
beautiful duet Pleurs d"or, he turned to Albert Samain. At about
the same time, too, he finished the charming four-handed Suite,
Dolly, and the delightful sixth Nocturne.

We must not look for " grand adventures " in this career, so modest
and industrious, where society gatherings were only a custom necessary
for the production of his music, and concerts and evenings at the
theatre only professional engagements. But his life was not entirely
taken up with breadwinning ; there were happy leisure hours con
secrated to this monument of great musical culture, witness of an
epoch of enthusiasm, individualism, and in the widest sense of

l This is to anticipate ; the names which follow belong to a more recent epoch,
bringing us to our own times.

*Then, in 1900, at the Universal Exhibition.

*It was in 1890, thanks to the generosity of Mme. la princesse de Polignac, that
Faure became acquainted with Venice. It is extraordinary, but true, that his Barcarolle
{from the first volume) so thoroughly Venetian, had been imagined ; but we have it
from the master himself that he has been only twice in the city of the Doges : when he
composed the six songs and, more recently, a few years before his death.

Biographical

faith. His fame now was growing. One no longer dared to scoff
at him as a dangerous iconoclast. The Nationals concerts, the
sympathy of the elite, and his stream of works of the first order placed
him at the head of our musicians for those who could discern true
merit. I know that many brother musicians, many a critic and many
amateurs who consider themselves knowledgeable in these matters can
see in him nothing but a pleasant composer of little tunes. No matter ;
each year sees the circle of his initiates widened, the work of that
band of unknown but devoted friends who make the reputations
of great artists and thrust them on posterity. This living power of
beauty, once a certain extension of its influence has been achieved,
becomes irresistible ; once it wins the true connoisseurs among the
public the men of goodwill it is henceforward that gentle power,
insistent and persuasive, which triumphs over all obstacles even
envy and slander. It is remarkable that Faure, without intrigue,
independent, individual, making concessions to nobody, nevertheless
achieved a high official position at the Institute, with honours later
showered upon him and an impressive funeral ceremony at his death.

He was over fifty (at that time, one did not " arrive " quickly)
when his fame, against which prejudice and ignorance availed nothing,
opened for him the doors of that Conservatoire from whence the
preceding director, Thomas, had thought to exclude him. On his
(Thomas s) death, Dubois had succeeded him. Massenet, who had
canvassed for the post (and moreover would only accept on condition
that he was elected for life), the illustrious and triumphal creator of
Manoti, checked for the first time in his life, sent in his resignation
(from his composition class). It seemed that it would be difficult
to replace this eminent teacher without a peer, less even for the
success of his pupils in the Rome competition than for the value
of an education both traditional and liberal. Whom could one
suggest ? Saint-Saens, extraordinarily talented and confident, was
of too restless a disposition to bind himself to so sedentary an
occupation ; Paul Dukas was too young. Then Faure offered himself
(in 1897, the same year as le Parfum Imperissable was composed).
The name of the minister who made the choice is unfortunately
withheld from us ; he showed himself either a competent musician,
or else very ably advised.

With Florent Schmitt, Louis Aubert, G. Enesco, Pierre Maurice,
Mile. J. Boulay, and R. Laparra, I was a pupil of Massenet ; with
them I stayed for some years in Faure s class. I already knew him,
having met him at friends houses (notably the lamented Jules Griset,
whose choirs sang marvellously le Riusseau, les Djinns, Madrigal,
Caligula, the Requiem . . .). I liked his good-naturedness, his extreme
simplicity. Somewhat distant now and then, rather from his
introspective nature than from pride (nor even from indifference
to the respect of his followers). But above all, I was drawn by his
art, an attraction dating from the impression made upon me by the
production at the Odeon of Shylock, with his exquisite incidental
music. It will be imagined how happy I was to work under the
direction of a musician whom I so profoundly admired.

In the presence of such a one we all felt both a little shy and

Gabriel Faure

immensely stimulated. A fine spirit pervaded his class ; already
his personality made itself felt. If we imagine, in Faure s place,
some pretentious nobody, or some honest academic (as, for example,
Lenepveu), would Ravel have been there, or Roger-Ducasse, or Paul
Ladmirault ? It is very doubtful. But, like the needle to the magnet,
they rallied to the new master. 1

A distinguished member of, the Conservatoire said recently to-
one of his friends : " One must not bore one s pupils ; perhaps it
is better not to direct them too strictly. It is preferable that a
professor should write beautiful music, and have, like Faure, a fine
appearance." This apparent paradox, pronounced by a man both
methodical and clear-thinking, is borne out by the example of Faure.
A good appearance, certainly. One recalls, under the white hair,
that Mediterranean face, bronzed, with his moustaches and Roman
nose, and that aspect as of an Eastern dreamer, the eyes, dark-ringed,
lost in strange milky luminosities of the pupil. But this, for us,
was accessory ; the musician s work was the thing. And this work
impelled us on.

After Massenet, whose volubility dispensed a teaching active, living,
vibrant, and moreover comprehensive, Faure seemed to read the
works of his pupils in silence. In actual fact he did make some
observations, rather rare, but useful in their sobriety, and always
aimed at an improvement in style. For this " revolutionary " proved
himself, as a teacher, to be a purist who detested clumsiness and
carelessness. The most efficient spur, nevertheless, was that provided
by himself, and the high standard of his own art ; his pupils offering
to so true a musician only the very best they could write, and fearing,
as unworthy of his artistic integrity, any concession or platitude.
Certainly it would be a singular insensitiveness that would invite
him to listen to anything banal or pompous. However, some did
risk it : Faure would then remain calm and quiet. He would become
vacant, distant ; and, the audition over, would turn nonchalently,
and ask softly, with an air of detachment, " Was there nothing else ? "
All would understand except the culprit, naturally incorrigible.

The influence of this Faurien music, both charming and profound,
was excellent. A teaching more dogmatic or biassed would have been
dangerous. If that of Faure, far from scholasticism (though not
from a strictness of writing, to which he held staunchly) was now and
then incomplete in certain details e.g., orchestration that mattered
little ; besides, several of his pupils filled this gap by lessons with
Andre Gedalge. 2 But after all, in spite of the fact that his method
seemed so different, Faure continued in his own way the work of

*Here, in alphabetical order, is a list of the more important pupils to pass through
Faurfs class : Louis Aubert, Mile. Nadia Boulanger, Mile. J. Boulay, Mile.
Campagna, E. Cools, Defosse, Roger Ducasse, G. Enesco, H. Estienne, G. Grovlez,
H. Fevrier, Mme. J. Herscher, Ch. Koechlin, P. Ladmirault, JR. Laparra, Le Boucher,
E. Malherbe* L. Masson, Pierre Maurice, Mazellier, Meunier, J. Morpain, M. Ravtl,
Florent Schmidt, E. Tremisot, E. Vuillermoz. As private pupil, outside the Con
servatoire, M. Francois Berthet.

* And for Fugue too ; for example, Florent Schmitt, Maurice Ravel and the present
writer.

Biographical

Massenet, directing his pupils towards a musicianship based on a
serious technique. 1

The decision to accept this post was taken not entirely from motives
of ambition, but more especially, it must be said, for its material
advantages. It was impossible to live on what his composer s rights
brought in, nor even on the sale of his compositions (we have specified
the rates). His salary from the Conservatoire, 3,000 francs, was by
no means a negligible sum, though deplorably reduced. To these
resources, as well as some private lessons, had just been added his
fees as organist at the Madeleine (he had succeeded Th. Dubois in
1896) as Inspector of the provincial Conservatoires and lastly,
since 1903, as Music Critic of le Figaro. Happily, these diverse
activities left him some free time. He could continue to write to
please himself, and the years from 1896 to 1905 were still fairly
fruitful. Many admirable songs (le Parfum imperissable, laForet
de Septembre, etc.), a powerful work for piano (Theme et variations),
other pieces of smaller dimensions, but which are far from negligible,
the incidental music to Pelleas et Melisande, and lastly that still too
little known masterpiece, Promethee such, in spite of all his other
ancillary occupations, is the record of this period of assiduous toil.
The Pelleas of Maeterlinck was to be given in London in 1898,
at the Prince of Wales Theatre ; Faure composed some interludes,
and went himself to conduct the orchestra. This music is well known ; 2
a Suite of extracts has been often performed. As it is now an open
secret, especially since M. Vuillermoz has disclosed the fact in his
contribution to " Fifty Years of French Music," a I can confess that
Faure did me the honour to entrust the orchestration to me. He
has admitted collaboration of this sort ; perhaps even the instrumental
score of Penelope is not entirely his work.

With regard to Promethee, the performers were innumerable ;
choirs, soloists, two wind bands (that of the lyre Bitterroise, and that
of a Regiment of Engineers, from Montpellier) supported by an
imposing mass of strings and some fifteen harps. The scoring was
the work of the Bandmaster of the Regiment, a difficult task, carried
out in a manner which could not be bettered. It is well known that
these performances at Beziers had, before the war (1914-18), been
undertaken and subsidised by the sympathetic Bitterois Mycena,
M. Castelbon de Beauxhostes. 4 It is owing to him that something
of the art of Greece has been revived. Promethee will be discussed
again at greater length in a following chapter. Its history can be
dealt with in a few lines. The work was written in the winter and
spring of 1900 ; the composer as he wrote it sent it off to his
orchestrator, along with some general indications as to colour and
nuance. Then he went to Beziers to undertake personally the final
rehearsals. These were for him unforgettable days. He found

*ffe had a horror for the Cantata of the Prix de Rome. In this competition his
pupils succeeded less often than those of Massenet ; but this is not a point of im>
portance. On the other hand, in his class chamber music benefited by a lively sym^
pathy ; which there is no cause to regret.

*In France, that is ; it is less familiar over here. (7>.)

^Published by la Librairie de France.

*At the instigation of his friend, Camille Saint-S-$a ens t

Gabriel Faure

himself again in his native southern country ; the hot sun gave to
both things and people an intense life. The choristers worked, in
the evenings, under the open sky, the dark blue infinity ^ studded with
great diamonds. The combined rehearsals took place in the Arena,
in the brilliant glare of radiant afternoons. A general exultation
communicated to all the performers the longing, the desire, to under
stand and to love. Those who have not seen it can have no conception
of this bold and superb reproduction of the ancient tragedy. 1

The case of Beziers is memorable, because an appeal was made
to the ordinary citizens for the male portions of the chorus ; they
proved once rnore that in this regard, amateurs are capable of excellent
results. (The instrumentalists of la Lyre Bitterroise were doubtless
not in the first class, nor as good technically as their confreres from
Montpellier, but in the end they acquitted themselves most honourably
in this difficult score, and the ensemble was magnificent.) We under
stand that other towns of the Midi, notably Narbonne, have followed
this example. Some day perhaps we may be able to do things in
the North with as much intelligence and zeal.

Promethee is a landmark in the life of Gabriel Faure his first
contact with Greek art. 2 It influenced the remainder of his career,
and from then on his art tended towards a simplification almost to
the point of bareness, reduced to essentials ; themes of a Doric purity
and, in short, the resurrection of the spirit of Greece in a modern
idiom (we shall return to this at greater length in the last chapter).
Equally important is la Foret de Septembre (1903), so heart-rending
in its premonitions of the future. It seems that from this moment
the musician, little by little, felt old age gaining on^ him. There is a
singular gravity, occasionally indeed to be found in works anterior
to this 3 but whose accent, here, takes on a decisive character, born
of the composer s personal, living experience.

Certainly, he had kept his youth well. Youthful in gait, in intelligence
and inspiration ; musically ever on the alert, his heart still tender,
his body firm despite his age. At Beziers, approaching his sixtieth
birthday, he leapt up the steps of the amphitheatre with ease. One
had the impression that this little man not, indeed, athletic, but
by no means old would continue the same for many years to come.
And so in fact he appeared to us, right up to 1917 or 1918.

When Th. Dubois retired, in 1905, it was with some little astonish
ment that I learnt that Faure was succeeding him as Director of the
Conservatoire. I had never imagined that he would have this official
honour bestowed on him ; besides, I could not credit that he had
accepted such engrossing duties ! But the news was true. Although
almost torture to him, he was constrained to give up his time to
administrative business, the greater part of which could as well have
been transacted by any of his colleagues. Without a doubt, the

> We were privileged to assist the following year. We have attempted to describe
our impressions in an article in the Revue Musicale, on " The Theatre of Gabriel
Faure" {October, 1922),

z lf we except la Rose, Hellenic certainly, but less powerful and naturally on smaller
lines. Caligula and Lydia are Roman ; Faure s instinct never failed him t

z Cf. Theme et variations, and the 7th Nocturne, in C Sharp Minor,

10

Biographical

minister offering him the post did him honour ; but he could have
done without it. He was miserable at not being able to compose,
and one can only deplore the strange way our Third Republic has
of " supporting " its intellectuals. When a great musician like
Gabriel Faure, when an artist of exceptional worth a national figure
has not the means necessary to existence, because fine music brings
in almost nothing, because wealth is the monopoly of operettas, of
the music-hall and the veristic drama 1 when, for this artist, it is
a question of providing for himself and his family, is it not a barbarous
stupidity that he should be engulfed by lessons, or compelled to
orchestrate I know not what, or again, reduced to receiving a thousand
importunators, from morning till night, if he directs a Conservatoire ?
Perhaps, if one could admit that the personality of the Director might
create music and induce a healthy outlook in an establishment as
vast as that of Paris, one would not have such lively regrets for the
time lost by Faure. But is this admissible ? It is probable, on the
contrary, that he had more influence as a mere professor of com
position. Once in the Director s chair he found himself estranged
from his young pupils. However, he applied himself to certain
reforms. In the singing classes the repertoire was enlarged improved,
where possible. More classics ; and lieder such as the Erl King
and Margaret at the Spinning Wheel. 2 On the examination boards
for Harmony, Counterpoint and Fugue appeared such notable musicians
as Claude Debussy, Maurice Ravel, Paul Dukas. Naturally, the
most gifted candidates had nothing to complain of. But after all
these were small improvements,, which others besides himself could
have introduced ; whereas the direction of the Conservatoire took
up all his time. It is remarkable that, despite so little leisure, the
balance for the years 1905 to 1920 remains so favourable ; 3 three new
volumes of songs (la Chanson d*Eve, le Jardin clos, Mirages), the first
Quintet, Penelope (Monte-Carlo, 4th May, 19 13- then at the Champs-
Elysees theatre, under G. Astruc), the second Violin Sonata, the first
Cello Sonata, and the Fantaisie for Piano and Orchestra.
A double recognition rewarded him during these years of officialdom.

l With the exception of a few hallowed masterpieces, by chance become lucrative.

*In the instrumental classes it remained very difficult to modify the repertoire. The
competition pieces stress, principally, virtuosity ; but this tradition is so powerful that
it would require a " revolution " in the Conservatoire to accord to phrasing, style and
rhythm the importance which belongs to them as, on the other hand, to admit music
other than that commonly known as classic ; / mean, to pay more heed to the 16th
and 17 th centuries, or to allow the existence of modern, even contemporary, classics.
As for the composers technique, one innovation is quite certainly attributable to
Gabriel Faure ; it is the counterpoint class. This has scarcely come up to expecta
tions. It is clear that in the time of Massenet and Guiraud the majority of pupils
wrote better fugues than they do to-day ; this was due to a number of causes and we
have not the time to discuss them here. But particularly, it was quite illogical to
separate counterpoint from fugue ; for administrative reasons, counterpoint should
have been kept in the composition class. Since M. Rabaud s taking over the division
has been different : 1st, counterpoint and fugue ; 2nd, musical composition. But
we would prefer the combined instruction of Massenet, with A, Gedalge to help when
needed on the purely technical side, when the master was otherwise engaged.

3 In quality, if not in quantity ; for this period of fifteen years certainly shows a
slackening off in production.

11

Gabriel Faure

la 1909 the Institute welcomed him; 27 years after Paladilhe, 31
after Massenet though these were almost his contemporaries : which
makes one wonder concerning the choice of the illustrious company
to which neither Rodin, nor Degas, nor Franck, nor Debussy^ ever
belonged. And secondly the larger publishers began to notice his ex
istence. Heugels issued Chanson d &ve and Penelope ; then Durand 1
followed with le Jardin chs, Mirages, as well as his latest chamber
music (the first Quintet was published by Schirmers -of New York).
Decidedly, this was fame. He had never sought it ; it came to him
simply by reason of the beauty of his music ; the reason that had led
Dujardin-Beaumetz, on the excellent advice of Mme. Roujon, to
nominate him as Director of the Conservatoire.

Faure remained faithful to the Societe Nationale. Nevertheless,
this did not prevent him from encouraging the foundation of a rival
society, the S.M.I. (Societe Musicale Independence). It was in his
study that was outlined a project, in opposition to the old pupils
of Franck and against the supremacy then enjoyed by the Schola
Cantorum in the Societe Rationale., for the uniting of a group with
wider sympathies. The name defines the aims : independence of
cliques, dogmas and theories. More a wish than a reality ; total
independence is very rare ! But it was linked with the aesthetic,
at once liberal and traditional, of Gabriel Faure. The new venture
intended to accept, without bothering about tendencies, all works
worthy of interest ; Faure consented to be its president. As is well
known, the first years of the S.M.L were brilliant. Its very success
incited the Societe Nationale to a wider view, in the fruitful emulation
which this rivalry produced.

During the war Faure longed ardently for their fusion ; it was
a real sorrow to him that this could not be brought about. But
at this particular period there were such, divergencies between the
two committees that a union without autonomy could have led to
nothing but a hybrid choice, turning away work of any significance
from each side and admitting only academic music, .devoid of character.
Perhaps only the real presidency, active and dictatorial, of Gabriel
Faure or Claude Debussy, could have brought about the fusion in
a profitable manner. But about 1915 supposing such a role to
have been in his nature Faure had not the leisure for that ; his
exacting administrative duties and his advancing age left him with
neither the time nor the desire to take in hand a control, somewhat
** fascist " as it would of necessity have been ; and as for Debussy,
he not only held himself aloof, but was already suffering from the
cruel illness which was to carry him off in 1918.

To sum up, Faure*s musical sympathies were with the S.M.I. ;
his disciples knew this well. And in his heart he never approved
the change of spirit of the Nationale., which around 1910 had become

T-Wedo not count en Priere (1890) nor the three earlier songs comprising Poeme <Tun
jour, exceptionally published by Durand, and which are not numbered among his best
works. As for Enoch, he had refused la Bonne Chanson as too dissonant and quite
incomprehensible. This is no exaggeration ; the publisher himself confided this in
formation to us, with no apparent regrets. It is true that at that time (about 1895)
the work was still little known.

12

Biographical

almost a branch of the Schola Cantorum. 1 But old friendships
(particularly with Vincent d Indy), and the memory of all he owed
to the Nationale -for he was never an ingrate caused him to reserve
for it the first performances of his second Quintet, the Trio and the
String Quartet.

He had at last left the Conservatoire in 1920. In the last two or
three years his health had been impaired. His lungs had become
more delicate ; no winter passed without an alarm. I was sadly
struck in 1917 or 1918 to see him, who at the termly examinations
had always seemed to us so robust and unchanged, grown thin,
almost emaciated ; and though as lively in his mind as ever seized
by a disquieting physical fatigue. A bad attack of influenza had
aged him had, who knows ? hastened his approaching end. And
one dreaded to think that in a short time, perhaps, the swan would
sing no more.

From 1920, as if in the knowledge that his life was nearly over, he
laboured feverishly. His works, one after another, express that
serene beauty his art had attained, and which was already noticeable
in Penelope, la Chanson d ve, and the second Violin Sonata. How
unforgettable were the evenings at the Nationale which welcomed
the second Quintet, the second Cello Sonata, the Trio . . . !

He was at that time spending his winters in the Midi, at Nice. But
the erratic climate, with its sudden changes of temperature, was not
always favourable. A serious attack of bronchitis brought him to
the brink of the grave. " The lamp grows dim,** said he one day.
However, his natural vigour asserted itself, and he made a fair recovery.
It is sad to reflect, but necessary to repeat, that Fauxe s means were
still precarious. The increase in the cost of living coincided with
a sensible diminution of his income ; the State, in 1920, allowed him
a pension which was quite insignificant. " Since Francois 1st is dead,"
artists of genius, in their old age, cannot hope to be welcomed as was
Leonardo da Vinci by the " Roi Dilettante." 2 The authorities could
not be counted on ; it was necessary to make economies to balance
the budget ! Well, it was better and finer thus ; for a great demonstra
tion, the result of private initiative, united all his friends and partisans
in the amphitheatre of the Sorbonne (June 20th, 1922).

Some friends of the master had had the idea of a concert for his
benefit with the co-operation of celebrated performers and the
rendering of his finest works. The government willingly allowed
the use of the hall ; and they recognised this as a national homage
with the assent and presence of M. Alexandre Millerand, President
of the Republic. Truth to tell, Faure was not, is not and never will
be a popular composer, like the writer of successful operettas ; one
hardly dared hope adequately to fill the vast hall. But, backed by
an intelligent publicity, the enterprise succeeded beyond all expectations.
And not only the inquisitive, and the snobs, were there, but, with the
still surviving friends of his youth (with many a touching reunion),

^Which Faure, it is known, scarcely liked. And probably his project for the fusion
of the two rivals was not unconnected with a desire to balance the " scholastic "
tendencies of the Nationale by the Debussyan or Faurien outlook of the S.M.L

^Francois 1st, ** le Roi dilettante" was also known as " pere des lettres" (7r.)

13

Gabriel Faure

there were the best of his colleagues, his pupils, and all musicians
worthy of the name and lastly, that whole host of obscure admirers
won. by the magic of his charm. And on this occasion M. Millerand
was forced to reflect on the power of art, to reckon with the invincible
force of beauty. Courteous applause had welcomed him. Soon
afterwards Faure appeared, and the acclamation was enthusiastic,
unanimous, immense. Such moments are salutary in the history of
art ; they give confidence in the future. It needs that nothing less
so that a little optimism may support us in the face of Philistinism,
too often triumphant. The audience, also, was perfect in compre
hension and tact, applauding with an intelligent fervour, discriminating
among the performers but reserving the major place for the master-
creator and, in this diversified programme, distinguishing easily the
best from the second-rate Faure,

tk What consoles me as I grow older," he wrote one day to his
disciple and faithful friend, Smile Vuillennoz (thanking him for so
many pages of a profound and subtle analysis) " is your sympathy."
1 imagine that on this memorable occasion the consolation must
have come in the form of the certainty of survival. A comfort only
relative, for he felt still so much creative force in him, knowing that
the future would not allow him to realise his dreams ! But still,
courageously,* with indomitable energy, despite the wear and tear
on his physique, the artist continued to live for his art. The summer
came, and he went to the neighbourhood of Annecy, to the house
of his devoted friends M. and Mme. Maillot. There were written
the second Quintet, the Trio, the second Cello Sonata, and finally
the String Quartet, which he never heard, the work not having been
played until after his death. I had the good fortune, thanks to the
kind hospitality offered me in this residence, to meet him again for
a few days in July, 1923.

A large and peaceful country house in Annecy-le-Vieux, on the
heights dominating the valley. The view from this hill is marveUous,
over the mountains, almost Italian in the light and contours, fringing
the blue waters of the lake dear to J-J. Rousseau. In the calm of
evening the master would sit, contemplating the harmony and peace
of the countryside. A truly perfect synthesis this of Faurien music
and the emotion of these closing hours, serene but indescribable ;
the sun illuminating with soft light the tranquil summits silhouetted
against the azure sky. There is indeed much -happiness and much
sadness in this divine quiet, in the almost celestial purity of the light,
soft air ; under the shadow of night, how is it possible not to dwell
on the painful end of the artist who perhaps to-morrow will be no
more? Doubtless, put into words, transposed thus into the realm
of literature, these phrases seem to you artificially symmetrical, an
ingenious correspondence between the countryside and the soul.
However, I know well, as did every friend of Gabriel Faure, that
in these months when each day his work snatched something from
death it was impossible not to feel a tender and cruel emotion, an
almost physical pain which tore at the heart.

But in this contented house, in the beautiful garden, in the midst

14

Biographical

of kindly nature and surrounded by his affectionate hosts, Faure
appeared admirably confident and youthful in spirit. He remained
in touch with the whole life of the nation politically, artistically,
literary. In the evenings he played chess, having learnt (when nearly
eighty) this difficult game, with its imperious demands on the attention.
He won with a naive pleasure, and lost with a good grace. During
the day he worked.

The last year, 1924, his weakness increased. He felt himself over
whelmed by extreme fatigue but he overcame it, determined to finish
his career with a String Quartet, a work which for a long time he
had not dared to tackle, because (said he), " of the great difficulty
of such a composition." Everyone knows this absolute modesty,
a dominant characteristic of his gifted and rich nature. The night
of its completion found him in pain ; forced to keep to his bed during
the following days, he was taken soon after to his own house at Passy,
in his apartments in the Rue des Vignes. Despite the most diligent
care his condition worsened. Before leaving Annecy, however, he
had found strength to write to one of the Vice-Presidents of the
S.M.I, recommending the score of an old pupil, M. Le Boucher. His
last days, in the intervals o f respite which his illness allowed him,
were devoted to the revision of the Quartet, the manuscript of which
he confided to his faithful disciple and friend Roger Ducasse (2 Nov.) ;
with a final recommendation that it should be examined closely, to
make quite sure that it was worthy of performance (sic).

" Have my works received justice ? Have they not been too much
admired, or sometimes too severely criticised ? What of my music
will live ? " He added, a moment afterwards : " But then, that is
of little importance." Such were his last words. He died a few hours
later, Nov. 4th, at 2 a.m.

Everyone knows the " national " obsequies which were accorded
him. But perhaps it is not so well known that this official recognition
was not obtained without a good deal of parleying and negotiation.
A very important personage indeed, when told of the death of the
great master of French music, asked his very words " Faure
who is he ? " A whole day was spent in discussions and evasions
then, finally convinced, the ministers gave way. The Madeleine
Church, which for so long had resounded to his beautiful improvisa
tions, was chosen ; his own Requiem pleaded for the clemency divine,
and the orchestra also played the funeral plaint from Pelleas et
Melisande}- Words fail to express the emotions felt by the participants
his friends, at least ; though all were not there, for places had been
distributed by favour and not by merit. For many it was a question
of a rare spectacle, rather than a pious commemoration. This was
noticeable when, at the close of the ceremony, the noise of shuffling
chairs among the crowd drowned the grave flutes mourning Melisande
and Faure. Outside, the steps of the Madeleine formed a rostrum

*The ingoing voluntary was an improvisation by M, Dallier on the theme of the
filegie for > Cello ; before the Requiem the tender and profound Nocturne from
Shylock was played by the strings. The soloists in the Requiem were Mme. Jeanne
Laval and M. 0i. Panzera, the excellent baritone to whom is dedicated PHorizon
chimerique,

15

Gabriel Faure

from which several speeches were made. That of the Minister of
Education and Fine Arts, M Francois Albert, left no one in ignorance,
this time, as to " who was Faure." Among the crowd there was
less reverence ; one cannot expect the impossible. " All the traffic
must be held up, just for one man who kicks the bucket, " grumbled
countless malcontents, m a Montmartre accent. No matter : everyone
could not know, or understand. The fundamental- fact is the power
of this art, whose beauty finally imposed itself, definitely and beyond
all discussion, so that the representatives of the nation were forced
to such an act of homage to salute the memory of the most musical
of modern composers.

16

Works

Vocal Music (Songs, Part Songs and Choruses)

FOR A LONG time the master was classed as a " charming " musician,
a song-writer, the " French Schumann." This is not true. Infinitely
superior to the pretty ballad type, his songs are, however^ not Lieder ;
and as for the comparison with Schumann, it seems to us artificial

In this genre there are some essential differences between him and
the most celebrated Germans (Schubert, Schumann and Brahms). 1
With the composer of Le Parfum imperissable, there was no " popular "
origin ; besides, from the time of le Lamento he quickly freed himself
from the strophic form. In short, illustrative and introspective, he
shows a French subtlety, very personal, and indefinable in, a few words,
which derived from his musical language, his taste, a certain reserve
in the expression, and an imagination rich, diverse and precise ; one
cannot compare his Song with the German Lied.

Not that he at once attained his ideal ; it is a far cry from les
Matelots to le Chanson d Eve, through le Chant d automne, Nell,
Clair de lime, la Bonne Chanson, le Foret de Septembre, Arid this
evolution presents some curious irregularities. If one studies the
sequence of Opus numbers in the first collection one finds pieces
clearly Faurien alternating with other compositions much less personal,
the Serenade toscane or Lydia ar,achronistically preceding Rve
d amour (Op. 5), Trislesse, and 5>/v|e-(Op. 6). Moreover, following
the poems, the quality of his musical ideas changes ; and to an
extreme degree, if he is one of those who really penetrate the text
to the point of translating, almost unawares, even the weaknesses.
Now Gabriel Faure had this gift, amounting almost to genius, of
identifying himself with the poets. 2 That is why, after the profoundly
moving Spleen., and la Rose, infused with clearest paganism (1889),
we are not astonished that en Priere (1890) to some mediocre lines
is uneven.

Another characteristic of his evolution is the progressive abandon
ment of strophic repetition. 3 Not that this form was incapable of

*And equally between them and M. Duparc, Claude Debussy, etc.

2 At times he seems to go further,, to penetrate deeper, than the poet ; he could then
be said to reveal, by his music, a beauty latent in the text. Sometimes too though
more rarely he seems to interpret it with a slightly more personal bias. In all other
cases there is scrupulous fidelity to the intentions of his collaborator,

*The sense of the word, progressive, is easy to grasp. After some identical couplets
(le Papiilon et la Fleur), you will find some presenting slight alterations ; later, the
plan of his songs becomes ternary (chiefly in the second set) ; finally, you admire a
form quite homogeneous, wherein the idea, in development, is built up to a climax f
as we shall see in due course.

17

Gabriel Faure

beauty : witness the marvellous Venise of Gounod, or Lydia, in its
way a masterpiece. But it must be confessed that the generality of
poems do not accommodate themselves readily to textual repetition
demanded of folksong, since the nature of primitive perceptions
requires the repetition, ad nauseam, of the same things. And, from
the musical point of view, it is certain that a well-ordered development,
leading to the summit of expression, is more likely to be preferred,
provided that the artist is cut out for the task. In the second set
there are, strictly speaking, no couplets. 1 Even from the first set,
Chant d automne provides us with a veritable symphonic organisation
in miniature, as much by the plan as by the writing. 2 It is thus that
Faure, little by little, arrives at those perfect songs wherein the emotion
becomes more intense in proportion as it makes more clearly for the
final goal. 3

1st Collection. We need not dwell on his youthful studies (Op. 1
and 2) : le Papillon et la Fleur, Mai, les Matelots. Their style is
correct, the harmony pleasing ; the prosody (especially in the first
of these) is open to question. Alone, certain modulations in Mai
give us some inkling of the future, showing, with the influence of
Gounod, a keenness of ear which is not negligible. The same qualities
are to be found in dans les Ruines d une abbaye^ slightly " romance"
but whose charm is perennial, with the naive freshness of its musical
idea, so youthful and ingenuous. The exact dates of these works
are not known. " About 1865 " is given for this first set by the
catalogue published by the Revue musfcale, during Faure s lifetime. 5
This is vague. One would rather suppose Op. 1 to be earlier than
1865, the year of le Cantique de Racine, whose technique and harmony
is greatly preferable. On the other hand, the Serenade toscane and
Seule (Op. 3) we hold to be clearly later. Seule, nearer to Saint-
Saens, betrays the organist s craft ; as for the Serenade, it is typically
Faurien, with the characteristic Mtone, reminiscent of 6 Marguerite s
air from the Act in the Garden ! But could not one say, without
malevolent irony, that Gounod s heroine sings here in the style of
Faure? 7 The Serenade toscane reveals already, in some charming
details of writing, the feeling for Italy (an Italy of grace and fancy)
which suggested to him some delicious music, right up to the time
of Arpege (1897). We have good reasons for admiring Op. 4 :
Chanson du p&heur, and Lydia. Th. Gau tier s celebrated Lamento,
after the beautiful settings of Berlioz and Gounod, gave Faure the

l Even -when the poem suggests it ; for example^ Notre amour, where each strophe is
different.

z We are thinking here of the movement of the bass, so solid and removed from the
" song form," which will be found towards the middle of this fine song.

*Cf. le Parfum imperissable, Dans la Nymphee, many a number in la Bonne
Chanson, etc.

*e.g.> on the return of the key of A Flat, by means of a charming and unexpected
D Flat (bar 8),

6 Revue musicale, October, 1922.

6 Cf. " O toi mon ame, ma pensee. . ." For Marguerite s air the question is,
how to end the act in the best manner. Re-read : " Est-ce de plaisir et d* amour,
que lafeuille tremble et palpite ? **,

7 A similar remark applies to some passages in Venise,

18

Vocal Music

opportunity for ample development ; he eschewed the couplet form,
in which he felt himself decidedly cramped. 1 In Lydia, Leconte de
Lisle (or, if you prefer it, the good Horace) 2 again inspired him most
happily. Even to-day, it is not without a poignant emotion that
we read that adorable phrase, full of pagan resignation and voluptuous
grace : " Oublions Feternelle tombe . . . laisse tes baisers . . . chanter
sur ta levre enfleur . . . * And the Coda, in its purity, so astonishingly
simple, foreshadows the Greek artist of I 7 Inscription sur le sable -, from
le Jardin clos. Nevertheless, Lydia displays a Latin charm ; a nuance
indefinable, subtle, but most decidedly perceptible. After this marvel
one is astonished to find only a superficial pleasantness in Reve d* amour
(on Victor Hugo s well-known poem, " S il estun charmant gazon . , .")
But here the composer was- led astray by his fidelity to the text. It
must be acknowledged that the incomparable interpreter of Verlaine
was ill-served by collaboration with Victor Hugo. Too many factors
separated them ; and anyway, the art of that prodigious word spinner
was rarely suited to music. U Absent (Op. 5, No. 3), is of a higher
order of inspiration ; even so the somewhat theatrical dramatising
of the poet accords ill with Faure s nature. This was better suited
by Baudelaire s Chant d automne (Op. 5, No. 1), which makes up
for Reve d amour. We have already remarked on the impressive
development of this work ; it is illumined by that strange Baudelairian
light which M. Duparc has realised, once and for all, in V Invitation
au voyage. Read it again, that it may not fall into an unjust oblivion.
Op. 6 comprises three songs : Aubade (L. Pomey), limpid and
ingenuous, anticipates VAurore of the second set ; but Tristesse drags,
with its four stanzas ; and finally, on account of its banal text (P. de
Choudens), Sylvle is not the best Faure. Op. 7 seems to us much
superior ; the rhapsodical nostalgia, the moving mastery of Apres
un reve compels our entire admiration. Despite the disparity between
their opus numbers it may well be that this lovely inspiration was
contemporaneous with Serenade toscane, both pieces being written
on adaptations, by Romain Bussine, of some Italian poems. In
Hymne there is, perhaps, a flagging of the inspiration ; the profound
personality, especially, is less evident (despite some novel harmony,
towards the middle). But the Barcarolle (M. Monnier) is one of
those God-given inspirations, direct, immediate, which are the
characteristic of genius. 3 No other music is conceivable to this poem,
itself without much intrinsic value, but a source of beauty by the
setting it evokes. The song must have been composed soon after
1870, the date of the Tarentelle (a Duet on some lines by the same
author). In a few chords sustaining with their profound modulations
a recitative of popular gait (but the popular style of the past ; before
the art of the mob), there is all the infinite harmony of night time in
Venice. What a magician, already ! The collection, closes with
Op. 8 : Au bordde Teau (Sully-Prudhomme), whose progressions were
1 C/. " Sur moi, le nuit immense plane comme un. linceuL . . ,"
*Much of Leconte de Lisle s poetry was modelled on Horace and the classics gener
ally. (7>.)

imagined, we have previously said, since Faure became acquainted with the
Queen of the Adriatic " only much later.

19

Gatriel Faure

daring for their time, and have never dated ; la Ran f on, where, as
with Hynme, it is a pity that Baudelaire has not inspired the musician
as he did with Chant d automne ; and Ici-bas 9 tous Us lilas meurent,
not without charm, but which does not impress as much as Barcarolle,
Lydia or Apres un reve.

The dates of the lists which we have consulted indicate a long time
between the first and the second volumes. But we have remarked
that the former, to all appearances, extends over a period of several
years ; from 1863 perhaps, to 1870 or even later. Besides, it is not
reasonable to suppose such a long interruption in a genre which
the master always held dear. " About 1880 " for Op. 18 ; 1882, for
Op. 23 these correspond with the time of publication. But surely
they were composed much earlier ? For consider : at the beginning
of this modest organist s career there was no scramble among publishers
for his manuscripts. After all, for those who know the slowness of
tfc pere Hamelle " in publishing his stock of music, it would seem
quite logical that Op. 18, dating from 1876 and sold in 1878, may
not have been printed until two years later in 1880. But it is of
little consequence ; let us come to the study of :

The Second Volume. Nell (Op. 18, No. 1), a marvel of grace, of
an ardour voluptuously chaste, skilful in technique and supple in
modulation. 1 Le Voyageur (No. 2) a dramatic Faure, foreshadowed
in a few pieces in the first volume. Ternary form, as also the
succeeding Autornne (No. 3). This shows a rare unity, a sound
construction without a fault. The beauty of the vocal line, with its
mounting emotion culminating in the final F. Sharp, is supported
by harmonies akin to those one finds sometimes in Saint-Saens or
Alexis de Castillon. 2 The three songs of Poeme d un jour (Op. 21)
are much to the taste of singers ; charm alternates with a certain
pathetic force, and the work concludes with a subdued resignation
in which perhaps is seen the best of the work. Even so there is no
comparison with either le Secret or les Berceaux (Op. 23). There
is the same perfection in les Berceaux as in Automne ; no one knows
better than Faure how to reconcile diversity of detail with the discipline
of a rhythm or design which is pursued with the most rigorous
constancy. And the emotion is not any the less, indeed on the
contrary. Le Secret, intimate, and so difficult of interpretation by
reason of its restrained feeling, shows that the present scorn for
Annand Silvestre betrays some injustice ; unless a tenable proposition
it is held only that Faure has transfigured these lines ? Notre amour,
I -confess, seems less happy, and the artificiality of the poem 3 has
indeed proved an . obstacle to the musician, despite the excellent
writing he maintains. Op. 27 is again from Armand Silvestre :
Chanson tfamour and la Fee aux Chansons, lively and charming
(particularly |he second) ; the grace of their unexpected modulations
is Faure s own. Not less attractive is le .Pays des Reves (Op .39,

1 Cf. the return to the original key, before the final phrase, " la chantante mer> le long
du rivage. . . ."

*Marie Alexis Vicomte de Castillon de Saint-Victor (1 838-73), first secretary of the
Societe Natiooate, and one of the pioneers of modern French song. (7>.)

*" Notre amour est chose legere . . . charmante . . . sacree , . . etemette"

20

Vocal Music

No. 3), with its indecisive rocking, tonal nevertheless ; and above
all Aurore (No. 1), wherein reappears the youthful sentiments of
VAubade, not without some subtle and profound melancholy whose
contrasting shade makes even more brilliant, though with no harsh
harmonies, the morning splendour of the return. " Trament de fils
d argent . . ." Decidedly, is not one compelled to admire the poet
who could inspire such music ? But the gem of this Op. 39 is most
assuredly No. 4, les Roses d Ispahan. One wonders at the diversity
of the composer ; his assimilation of the poets is such that one
exclaims : these are not translations, but the poems themselves. A
fantastical imagination would suggest to us, before so real an
Orientalism, that this dreamy nonchalance sprang from I know not
what Mussulman stock, contemporaneous with the Moorish invasion
of the Midi. (Faure s build resembled that of a peaceful Arab
merchant.) But this would not explain how he showed himself
worthy of Villiers de FIsle-Adam by two admirable songs : Nocturne
(Op. 43, No. 2), and les Presents (Op. 46, No. 1), They are held in
insufficient esteem by the general public ; the profound mystery of
the first, the elegance of the second, as enigmatic and somewhat
distant, though extremely sensitive, keep the masses at arm s length.
Actually, they count amongst the most beautiful .of the second
volume. 1 The celebrated Clair de June, also always moving in its
apparent indifference, dates from the same period (Op, 46, No. 2,
1887). An Italy of imagination, music of flutes, mandores 2 and
violas d amore a secret anguish which persists in the most harmonious
perfection of harmony, line and rhythmic form. 3 But how pointless
is criticism ! and how feeble one feels before the impossible task I
To the end of the volume there is no flagging. 4 Larmes (1889),
with its wild augmented fifths, although slightly later than the Second
Quartet (1886), shows some relationship with the image of the
" smithy " which appears for the first time in the instrumental work.
This striking- song is hardly ever sung ; a hitherto unknown Faure
is revealed in these accents, extremely violent despite their rhythmic
unity : a vigorous, bitter and almost romantic inspiration. Au
Cimetiere is not less violent in its middle section ; it enshrines the
recollection of the peaceful country graveyard, seen in the clear air
from the cliff s height. Points to note are the harmony, modal
(plain-chant) and of a rustic humility, and the deep tenderness and
immensity of it all, 5 in such a few bars. Spleen (" II pleure dans mon

*The order of this account has caused us to omit No. 2 of Op. 39, Heur jetee, of a
totally different character and, one would say, from its violent expression, earlier in
point of time than le Pays des Reves or les Roses cflapahan. But do not forget that
a great artist is always multiple, and sometimes subjects mastered him rather than that
he chose them. We see moreover in this work some vigorous modulations by which
the musician enlarged his kingdom.

t Mandore, a small stringed instrument of the lute class. (7h)

*C/. ** Ils n ont pas Tair de croire a leur bonheur. . . Et leur chanson se mele au
clair de Inner

*Exceptfor Ea pri&re, aUbeit contemporaneous (1890). We have already indicated
the reasons why this song is inferior to its neighbours.

*Cf. " Et pew &vec de vrais regrets Tappeler par son wm"

21

Gabriel Faure

coeur "), one of the best interpretations of this celebrated poem,
maintains a high standard in its intense melancholy, and how superior
to Debussy s setting ! (Without setting up any other comparison,
and while admiring unreservedly other masterpieces such as le Colloque
sentimental) Finally, la Rose (No. 4 of Op. 51, Nos. 1, 2 and 3 of
which we have just noticed). In these few pages are a Mediterranean
vividness, a harmonious and healthy paganism. And what extra
ordinary suppleness, what easy and youthful perfection, in solving
so difficult a problem : fitting each word to the music without
destroying the unity ! *

The second collection used to finish 1 with the two pieces of Op. 73,
which the usual lists mention as being later : Prison (Verlaine) and
Soir (A. Samain). 2 Is not this an error ? For we seem to remember
quite clearly that they appeared before le Parfum imperissable (Op. 76).
Rather one would place these compositions about the year 1895
before le Parfum imperissable (1897), and contemporaneous with
Pleurs d"or, likewise inspired by Albert Samain. " C est la pitie
qui pose ainsi son doigt sur nous ..." Certainly, he had already
written pure, perfect, even very moving melodies ; and la Bonne
Chanson, truly unique in intensity, had just been finished. But had
he before, except perhaps in some bars of En sourdine and C est
Vextase, and the admirable D Flat Nocturne, ever sung with a voice
so understanding and profound as in this phrase, which will for ever
stir the hearts of Faure s devotees ? Soir, the crowning achievement
of the second collection, reaches the summit of tenderness and
compassion. Prison is by no means inferior, though the two works
have nothing in common. There is all the anguish of Verlaine,
dramatic but restrained and which everyone else save Debussy ran
the risk of making theatrical : " Dis, qu as tu fait . . . de ta
jeunesse ? " The voice loses itself in the mists of memory, accompanied
by a boldness of writing so truly necessary and direct that one does
not notice the audacious perfection of the style.

Going back a little to the separate collections 3 : the songs " de
Venise" (1890) and la Bonne Chanson (1891-92), both to texts by
Verlaine, a favourite of the musician since Spleen. The first of these
suites opens with a sort of homage to Watteau : Mandoline (from
Fetes galantes), of a witty and dreamy elegance, with momentary
glimpses, almost nostalgic, over distant parklands, in the dim twilight
of a moon " rose et grise." En sourdine and C est I extase reveal
an emotion similar to that of le Soir of Samain with, in addition,
something of the particular melancholy of the poet of La Null
de Walpurgis classique : " Cette ame qui se lamente ..." Un
doubtedly, the inspiration of these two is on a high level, and
compared with them A Clymene, though characteristic, pales somewhat

^Nowadays, these songs (with Larmes, Spleen, etc.") form part of the third set the
second, like the first., containing only 20 songs.

s Prison and Soir figure in the old edition of the second set as Op. 73, and not " Op. 83,
(1900) " as later lists indicate.

* Since this time the publisher Hamelle has issued a third volume of songs wherein
can be found those "from Venice " as well as the Madrigal and the Serenade from
Shylock. The others will be noticed in due course, before la Chanson d five.

22

Vocal Music

and even the very charming Green. But neither Faure nor Debussy
discovered the extreme sadness buried by the " pauvre Lelian " under
his fruits, flowers, leaves and branches. The whole of this album,
with its frequent fragrance of the past, sad, calm and serene, merits
its vogue among connoisseurs. /But the rhapsodical quality of la Bonne
Chanson, its extraordinary vital force, the passion of light and happiness
and all the musical treasures it inspires, remains incomparable. Faure
preserved an especial tenderness for this work, unique in his existence
for the optimism, the excitement, the kind of happy intoxication that
persistently animates it. It is extremely varied, though a hidden
and undefinable unity binds the pieces together. (1) Une sainte en
son aureole, a stained-glass window where the musician s art follows
step by step each word, nevertheless preserving a well-defined form.
(2) Puisque Vaube grandit like (6) Avant que tu ne fen allies, (7)
Done, ce sera par un clair jour d ete, and above all, (9) Uhiver a cesse
affirms Joy triumphant, with an expansive power the master has never
surpassed. 1 In contrast to this joy is the gentle tenderness of (3) La
June blanche lull dans les bois ; the anguish, overcome in a superb
final burst, of (4) TAllais par des chemins perfides ; the breathless
fever of (5) J*ai presque peur . . ., concluding with the passionate
avowal " Je vous aime . . . je t aime . . ." ; the opening of (6),
where the eager morning awakening of nature alternates with the
uneasy fervour of the poet ; and finally, the last lines of (7), " Et
les etoiles . . . paisiblement sourirent aux epoux " : a stroke of
genius, for which he waited long weeks, until suddenly one evening
he cried to his friends " I have it ! " N*est-ce pas ? (No, 8), no doubt,
misses the youthful character, the candid confidence, of Verlaine s
poem. This is not a criticism, but a simple way of stating a difference
between the poet s conception and that of the musician ; however,
Faure did suppress certain highly significant lines (" Quant au monde
. . . que nous feront ses gestes ? . . . unis par le plus fort et le plus
cher lien "). But the preceding has maintained an ample development.
Finally, (9), UHiver a cesse ; here foregoing themes are picked up
again, as in the finale of a Symphonic Cycle ; a radiant ascent towards
happiness (. . . met de 1 ldeal sur mon ideal ") makes a splendid
finish to this passionately^ lyrical work.

It seems that after the successful effort of la Bonne Chanson Faure
experienced some apprehension with regard to new songs as was
only natural to an artist so anxious to do good work, so lacking in
confidence of the value of what he had written. 1893 produced
nothing, and the year following very little ; only the harmonisation
of FHymne a Apollon* No one was better qualified for this delicate

*The same quality is found again (evidently derived from la Bonne Chanson) in the
beautiful finale to the Second Violin Sonata. As for the communal joy o/Promethee,
undoubtedly still more brilliant, its feeling is not more intense.

* Reconstructed by M. Theodore Reinach from an authentic manuscript ; the longest
fragment of Greek music then discovered. The first performance took place at the
Hdtel des Societes Savantes, after a well-documented lecture by M. Reinach. Faure ,
at the piano, accompanied one of his best interpreters, the late Jeanne Remade, The
evening concluded with some of the masters songs, when numerous empty places
appeared. Doubtless an audience of archaeologists could appreciate only the music
of two thousand years ago. . . .

23

Gabriel Faure

task. His experience and his taste for the Gregorian modes led him
to match this venerable monody with harmony most faithfully in the
Greek style.

We have placed Prison and Soir about 1895. Op. 76 (Arpege,
le Parfwn imperissable) belongs to 1897. With Arpege we find
ourselves again in the unreal gardens of Mandoline and Clair de lune*
A winged rhythm of infinite grace, dreamy and tender nocturnal
harmonies, the pure, unbroken and fanciful line of this reserved hymn
to feminine beauty all combine to produce a work truly admirable
though with no pretence to the sublime. Le Parfum imperissable is
more direct (" Mon coeur est embaumee d une odeur immortelle . . .")
And in this case it can truly be said that Faure has achieved the sublime.
There is more of infinity here than in la Bonne Chanson, which sings
of the present ; the work of Leconte de Lisle being of remembrance,
a sort of haunting memory elevating the passion ," it concludes
" beyond human time." Later, these appeals to a past of intense
tenderness make themselves heard anew, in the Andante of the
Second Quintet. 1 One can see that, in contrast to Victor Hugo
(without falling into the error of comparing the two), Leconte de
Lisle brought good luck to the interpreter of Lydia, Nell, Les Roses
d" Ispahan,, and la Rose ; le Parfwn imperissable is indisputably the
finest of this collaboration.

There are no songs between 1897 and 1903, and even in other fields
his output was less abundant. 2 The year 1900, it is true, saw the
magnificent achievement of Promethee. Op. 85 (1903) opens with
la Foret de Septembre^ previously noted (page 10): He was now
approaching his sixtieth year, and it is impossible not to hear the
voice of experience in this noble meditation. La fleur qui va sur
I eau is full of undercurrents of inquietude, pulsing with tumultuous
and dramatic vitality. Accompagnement soothes the mind a nocturnal
barcarolle, typically Faurien ; perhaps, however, without achieving
perfect unity, for has not the musician, by a too scrupulous fidelity
to the poem, missed some of the underlying meaning ? In 1904
he returned, surprisingly, to his old collaborator, Armand Silvestre,
with le Plus doux chemin (Op. 87) and le Ramier (without Opus
number). But too many years had elapse4 since Aurore and la Fee
awe Chansons, and there is no doubt that he was no longer the man
for Gabriel Faure. Le Don silencieux (1906) gave him the chance
to make a splendid return. 3 This work by the Director of the
Conservatoire 4 was published by Heugel. Soon afterwards there is
a new landmark in his musical life la Chanson cTEve (1907-10).
Js it not paradoxical, that as the master grew older, his muse should
grow younger ? He conjures up a golden age, the dawn of our Earth,
the new-born, virgin life of a sunny paradise. And why not ? Would

^Memories real, or imaginary ? who knows ? and it is of no consequence I

*The$e were the years of his Professorship at the Conservatoire.

3 No doubt because it is contained in none of the collections, this song remains almost
unknown. But rarely was the tenderness of the musician better inspired. Note too,
from the same period^ a charming Chanson, words by M. H. de Regnier.

*Faure" r as we know, was appointed to this post in 1905.

24

Vocal Music

the contrary have been more logical? Has not Arkel, in most
touching language, said much the same to Meiisande? 1 As death
approaches, man turns with increasing tenderness towards the memories
of childhood, or to the youth actually existing around him ; visions
of freshness, adolescence, charm, and in the case of a fine artist
purity crowd upon him. The inspiration, even the writing, of Faure
was likewise purified reduced to essentials, with an ever increasing
self-confidence. He was, moreover, "extremely sensitive (cf. Crepuscule)
and weighed down at times with an anguish which brings out even
more strongly the primitive light, the pure atmosphere, of " the first
mornings of the world." The whole of this very beautiful collection,
the fruit of collaboration with the poet Van Lerberghe (whose too
early death is to be regretted), unified and diverse, like la Bonne
Chanson, merits discussion. But above all, the last of these, O Mort,
poussiere d etoiles what a great and serene emotion is there enshrined !
It is impossible not to regard it as drawn from life ; the aging man,
contemplating the beauty of night, musing on the fact that one day
perhaps, who knows ? the next his soul mil dissolve into stellar space.
La Chanson d ve appears too infrequently at concerts ; the public
has no chance to apprehend its true worth. To be sure, its thought
is removed from the current fashion, if that fashion demands the
detestable syncopations of jazz, or only the diversion of the public
with picture-palaces and trams-de-luxe. But all this does nothing
to diminish the Faurien beauty of the work.

Le Jardin clos (Op. 106, 1915-18), likewise by Van Lerberghe, and
les Mirages (Op. 113, 1919) both prove to be of the same substance.
Faure has confessed to us : " I can reckon on 20 years before any
one of my works is appreciated by the public." 2 It is true that the
fervent followers of his art, those who have troubled to follow flie
course of its evolution, understanding this stripping away of super
fluities and admitting that this apparently tenuous texture was capable
of very fine music, have not needed these 20 years. Nevertheless,
and despite the crowd of sympathetic listeners in the amphitheatre
of the Sorbonne, the number of initiates into this latest style is not
so great as one would wish. Perhaps the rhythm, shorn of accents
and seeking no violent contrasts, needs a little getting used to ; but
no true artist could resist bowing very low before those gleaming
summits : Dans la Nymphee, whose serenity interprets an intense
emotion, and which grows until it has filled all our being : Je me
poserai sur ton coeur, evoking by a subtle simplicity, with every note
in place, infinitudes of the sea and the soul ; Inscription sur le $able y
of a pure Greek beauty which would seem to be " made out of notk&ig/*
were the intimate richness of triis " nothing " not apparent : and the
extraordinary D&nseuse from Mirages, which seems with perhaps

*C Pelleas et Mttisande, " Et cependant les vieittards, . . ." (Duet, Arkel and
M&isande, 4th Act.)

*This is an average ; la Bonne Chanson did not require so long, since towards 1900
it was widely discussed ; but the first volume of songs had scarcely won any notoriety
before 1885, and la Chanson d Bve and le Jardia dos remain almost unknown even
to-day. It must be added that Faure himself was careful to avoid any bitterness or
recrimination ; he merely stated the fact, with an air of tranquil resignation.

25

Gabriel Faure

more apparent clearness, yet with quite as much mystery in the secret
of its total perfection a translation into music of certain pages of
VAme et la Danse, by M. Paul Valery. The remainder all partake
of these same qualities, at once intangible and real, likewise also the
last work, 1 V Horizon chimerique (Op. 118, 1922) which becomes more
attractive the more one knows it.

To the solo songs must be added a few part-songs.

Three Duets : Tarentelle (M. Mdhnier) and Puisqtfici-bas (V. Hugo),
dating.from 1870, take us back to the Faure of old times, but already
one can admire the modulations, supple and sure. La Tarentelle 2
is a joyous Italian song full of rapid and agile vocalises, which one
occasionally has the pleasure of hearing at pupils concerts ; its
technical difficulties save it from performance by the tyro, and only
the most expert among the young ladies will risk it. Puisqifici-bas
seems one of Faure s best interpretations of Victor Hugo, without
however offering the interest of the lively Tarentelle. Les Pleurs d or
is much later, from the period when the master, in the plenitude of
his art, was discovering Verlaine and Samain. Here the music is
most expressive, of a refinement and sensitivity almost worthy of Sofr.

The original version of the Madrigal a quatre voix (A. Silvestre),
often sung as a chorus, was designed for soloists. Written on the
liturgical theme from Bach s Cantata Aus liefer Noth, it should cause
no scandal that Faure has united this motif to some lines of a secular
poet, and which with another interpretation becomes charged with
a profound anguish. Note only the result, which is charming ; what
grace, what suppleness in the vocal writing and the harmony ! This
leads us to the Pavane (chorus with orchestral accompaniment) a
more recent work, but of the same order. This is no pastiche of the
16th or 17th century, but the spirit of bygone times translated into
a modern idiom which recalls the Modes of yesterday.

There are few other choruses in existence, except those we shall
discuss in connection with Caligula. But we must mention les Djinns,
a youthful work (1873, or perhaps earlier). It is astonishing that this
work should be by him ; but one should remember to what extent
the influence of Victor Hugo sometimes disfigures his style. It is
hard to deny the grandiloquence at the crescendo, " Prophete, si
ta main me sauve . . ." ; the harmony, moreover, is scarcely Faurien.
It is in fact something of a freak. The excuse of its juvenility cannot
be put forward, since le Cantique de Racine., as well as some of the
songs of the first collection, most probably earlier works, preserve
a character infinitely more in conformity with the master s personality.
Quite otherwise is le Ruisseau (Op. 22, 1880), chorus for female voices,
affecting and attractive, its modulatory lines studded with irregular
resolutions. There is no need to return to le Cantique de Racine,
since it has been commented on in the first part. At the time of
the grand concourse at the Sorbonne it did not seem inferior, and one
could give no better eulogy.

The religious choruses will be treated separately. There remains

*The old marts collaborator here was a young poet killed in the Great War (1914-18).
H. de la Ville de Mirmont.

^Dedicated to Miles. Marianne and Claudie Viardot

26

Vocal Music

finally la Naissance de Venus (P. Collin), a kind of pagan oratorio
(Op. 29, 1882). It is paradoxical, strange, but true that the master
has sung the praises of the goddess better in some of his songs 1 than
in this over-long work. One page of la Rose tells us more, and
suggests more of the life and beauty of Aphrodite emerging from
the briny wave, than all the musical commentaries accompanying
the poem of M. P. Collin. Twenty years later it is probable that
he would have written and even have thought quite differently. But
there is no doubt that at this distant date Faure had not the mastery
which he showed so superbly in Promethee. Perhaps also the text
did not help him. However that may be, the vast and majestic
monologue of Jupiter, and the vigorous chorus following it, seem
more suitable for saluting another goddess (apart from a few passages
more Faurien and genuine : " Reine du monde . . ., page 44).
However, the work is not, at the opening, lacking in charm ; nor,
as it progresses, in breadth. It would do great honour to a composer
of the second rank. Being by Gabriel Faure, one cannot forget
that it falls short by some distance of those summits, Promethee and
Penelope. This criticism, like that on V Allegro symphonique and les
Djinns, ought not to rouse the fervent devotees of the Faurien religion
to indignation, but should be regarded as a sign of the sincerity of
our admiration for so many other works, of an indisputable mastery. 2

Church Music

IT COULD WELL be maintained that the greater part of truly
religious music of our age is to be found in certain chamber or
symphonic works, or even in the theatre (for example, some of Arkel s
music, in Pelleas et Melisande ; while in Penelope we recall the
opening of the second act, where the feeling for nature is of the
most exalted kind). This is surely superior to many of the superficial,
saccharine, theatrical and sophisticated medleys for cello, harp and
harmonium. But even so, there are still to be found a few great
musicians devoting themselves to works for the Church, and such
a one was Gabriel Faure. His capacity as organist led him quite
naturally in this direction.

The essence of his mystical quality was defined by Mile. Nadia
Boulanger in a remarkable article in la Revue Musicale* " The Church
may judge and condemn ; the master has never expounded this view,

*E.g. 9 la Bonne Chanson, or le Parfum imperissable.

*We ought to mention^ also, a charming vocalise, with piano accompaniment , written
at the request ofM. Hettick, which figures in the first volume of vocalises published by
Leduc.

*The issue of 1st October* 1922, already mentioned.

27

Gabriel Faure

any more than he has striven to follow the dogmatism of the text.
It might be said that he understood religion more after the fashion
of the tender passages in the Gospel according to St. John, following
St. Francis of Assisi rather than St. Bernard or Bossuet. His voice
seems to interpose itself between heaven and men ; usually peaceful,
quiet and fervent, sometimes grave and sad, but never menacing or
dramatic."

Faure s conception, all tenderness, pardon and hope, could not
be otherwise ; it was in fact truly Christian, and opposed to that
cruel anthropomorphism of a "divine justice" copied from the
sententious reasoning of human tribunals. Particularly in the Requiem,
the most well known and the finest of these manifestations, it is quite
understandable that the indulgent and fundamentally good nature
of the master had as far as possible to turn from the implacable dogma
of eternal punishment. His doctrine, therefore, cannot be guaranteed
inflexible ; but the only concern is the beauty of his music. We need
not regret that his art could not tackle a detailed and minute picture
of a hell which his heart could not desire when, thanks to the over
flowing of that heart, the aeterna requies is of such serene gentleness
and consoling hope. The Dies irae appears, as it were, incidentally,
and because it is obligatory (in a Mass for the Dead) ; moreover,
it is quickly subdued by the return of the noble and almost confident
prayer ofJLibera (No. 6). Other dark tones alternate with the light
lux perpetua with which, by visions of angels and paradise, he
prefers to illuminate this work, a greater than seemed at first to the
fanatical Wagnerians. The Introit-Kyrie opens an austere portal
musical austerity which is not that of asceticism ; and everything
macabre remains banished from this grief. The supreme anguish
appears in the mysterious terror which hovers over the Offertoire,
much more than in the ninths of the Christe eleison (page 10 of the
score). By the simplest means, by the strangeness of unexpected
modulations, and a canon wherein, enigmatic in their weavings, are
intermingled the contrasting timbres of contraltos and tenors, the
disquieting vision of an unfathomable lake cannot fail to be evoked,
if not at length, at least in a manner extremely striking. But soon,
what high hope and how sure is in the nobly tender pardon
suggested by the Hostias et preces ! And the supplication of the
chorus, on the initial motif of awe : O Domine, Jesu Christe, Rex
gloriae, concludes peacefully in an Amen, pure and serene. Then,
in reply, swells up the angelic Sanctus. The Pie Jesu, less heavenly
but still religious in tone, expresses a piety most deeply felt and loving ;.
the Agnus Dei unfolds its pathetic prayer, its melodious and decorative
curve (in the broad but sober style of the XVIIth century) leading,
by a long crescendo, to a return of the first theme of the work, in
D Minor. The same key, softened for an instant by the Major at
the end of the Agnus, is also used for the Libera, to which succeeds
the seraphic In Paradisum, worthy of Fra Angelico.

la addition to the Requiem, Faure wrote a fairly large number
of other pieces of a religious nature 1 : O Salutaris ; Maria, mater

*The reader will find a complete list at the end of the work.
28

Church Music

gratiae ; Tantum ergo; Tu es Petrus ; Ave Maria; Salve Regina,
etc. ; also a Low Mass for women s voices and organ, of great purity,
consisting of Kyrie, Sanctus, Benedictus, and Agnus Dei. Two masters,
Bach and Gounod, seem to have been his guides. From Bach he
derived that beautiful contrapuntal writing, compact, pure, and free
in comparison with the narrowness of scholasticism ; from Gounod,
a delicate expansion whose sincerity never avoided the use of simple
chords, or naively expressive melodies. It is well known that Gounod,
at about the time that Charles Bordes inaugurated the meetings at
Saint-Gervais, was considering a Mass which would combine his
very real knowledge of counterpoint, his melodic gifts, and his naturally
tender inspiration, without theatricality. If he was not able to achieve
this work, one can say that Faure, in some of his motets, in certain
pages of his Low Mass, 1 has become the successor to Gounod, giving
us what the composer of Faust had not the leisure to write before
his death. At the same time there remains the inimitable Faure,
not only in resemblances to earlier themes, 2 but especially in almost
imperceptibly delicate shades of feeling.

On other occasions (cf. the Agnus Dei of the Mass, noble and
dignified) the style is almost austere. But as the music, on the other
hand, never secedes its rights, this austerity preserves an inner charm,
exercises a secret attraction on our ear and our understanding. The
unfortunate habit of regarding Faure as no more than a " seductive
charmer " is so widespread that perhaps the reader will be surprised
at the word " austere." However, there is no question that the gamut
of the Faurien inspiration extends so far. A whole volume could
be written on this aspect of his art, already noticeable in the first
collection of songs (cf. Seule), fully developed at the time of Protnethee,
and persisting, whenever the idea seems to require it, right up to the
time of the Cello Sonatas and the Second Quintet. 3 Curiously enough,
it appeared only rarely when he wrote for the Church. Then, in
general, charm was dominant ; a charm lovely, refined and easy in
its perfection, which reminds us of Renan. Impeccable form through
out, ideas full of a supple grace, ct humanity " of expression, it is
hard to see that this is necessarily irreligious, and one would conclude,
with Mile. Nadia Boulanger, 4 " To have given this to our unhappy
hearts, to have combined Charity with Beauty, Hope with Love, is
not this the most beautiful mode of participating in the work of the
Church ? "

l For example, the Benedictus.

z To Lydia, for example, in the Kyrie of the Mass ; to la Bonne Chanson, in the
Ave Maria (Op. 67, wo2), etc.
*Cf. first movements and finales.
*Revue musicale, 1st October, 1922.

29

Symphonic Music

IF WE EXCLUDE Penelope, Promethee and Masques et Bergamasques,
intended for the theatre, also the incidental music to Caligula, Shylock
and Pelleas et Melisande, and on the other hand the Requiem and
la Naissance de Venus which we have just discussed, Faure wrote
little for the orchestra ; moreover, of a total of three works, two
have a part for solo piano. Mention has been made of a Concerto
for Violin, a Suite for Orchestra and a Symphony in D Minor, which
remain unpublished ; we believe even that the manuscripts have
been destroyed by the composer. Nevertheless, the first movement
of the Suite has been preserved as the Allegro Symphonique (Op. 68).
Besides this we have the Ballade and the Fantaisie. Nothing more.
No symphonic poem and, but for the Allegro and the Fantaisie, no
example of absolute music.

One asks oneself why this is, when in his Quartets he has shown
himself capable of sustaining, at length, ideas and conceptions which
are in essence symphonic. There are several reasons. First, the
difficulties which his times offered to symphonists. The great public
and the authorities preferred the theatre ; the big concerts mistrusted
the young men, even indeed those of riper years. Cesar Franck was
included in their repertory only after his death ; during his lifetime
he had not one complete performance of his Beatitudes. One had
to rely only on the sympathy of the Societe Rationale : but this could
give only one or two evenings of orchestral music a year and these
were necessarily first performances. Pasdeloup, Colonne, Lamoureux
confined themselves to the classics, or Berlioz, or Wagner. As Florent
Schmitt wrote : "... Prerogatives of the Dead, sole depository of
genius."

. Besides, Faure s very nature, the reserve of his art, individual and
intimate, demanding the epithet " interieure," if this is, indeed, not
incompatible with the orchestra, the style of instrumentalists accustomed
to Wagnerian outpourings would find itself in opposition to a system
of nuances at once modest and very sensitive (a sensitivity intense
but restrained), which the interpretation of one of Faure s works
often demands. Sometimes, still unknown and without authority,
the young musician would have to endure some passage disfigured
by an " understanding " too superficial affected, or unpleasantly
expressive something more serious even than a mechanical frigidity.
It must be confessed that such conditions are far from encouraging.
He would have persisted in this genre only if orchestral colour had
been necessary to his inspiration. But in general Faure s inspiration
seemed best suited to abstract, almost unreal sounds, from which,
paradoxical as it may seem, the idea of timbre remains excluded.
And very often the orchestration of his music is uneasy. In the
Requiem the deliberate adoption of an extreme sobriety does not
induce monotony. But the same could not be said of the more
colourful works. If you set about scoring la Rose, for example, the

30

Symphonic Music

difficulty of preserving the sonorous unity with the varied colours
of the different timbres will be at once apparent. 1

If there must sometimes be brilliancy, nothing is more opposed
to his art than picturesque, " amusing " sounds. Sometimes it is
clear that the piano solo can render his thought. Faure himself
worked out the orchestral version of Clair de lune, which falls short
compared with the admirable piano version. One can in fact say
that the master whose vocal, piano and chamber music technique
was perfect, was never completely at home with the orchestra 2 ; and
then, the depth and refinement of his thought often demanded instru
ments unfortunately now obsolete, or nearly so -or if not, the handling
of combined colours whose simple refinement conveyed his harmony.
If the problem is not insoluble it remains very delicate.

For all that, the orchestral accompaniment to the Ballade (to all
appearances written by Faure), nicely balanced, supports the piano
with discretion, even with poetry ; and it contains some charming
combinations of sounds. Besides, the soloist remains the first con
sideration ; the score contains neither trumpets nor trombones. It
would take too long to follow in detail the development of the themes,
and such analyses, away from the music, bring nothing of great value
to the reader. We will only remark that in this Ballade Faure shows
himself at once the disciple of Chopin and Saint-Saens (" . . . Cette
fantaisie et cette raison . . .") The background is an imaginary
forest 3 whose myriad rustlings of fairies and sylphs accompany the
soaring initial theme, limpid, grave and charming, like the love song
of an adolescent Vigny.

The Allegro Symphonique is taken from the earlier Orchestral Suite,
the other movements of which have not been preserved by the composer.
A plain, almost scholastic, theme is accompanied by harmonies very
different from those which, even before this early work, we associate
with Gabriel Faure. If it is less removed from la Bonne Chanson
than, for example, les Djinns, it cannot be denied that this manifestation
of the Faurien muse has had no successor. And it is difficult to
regret it. Not because of its regularity and strictness 4 but because,
after the fashion of some of the less good works of Saint-Saens, it
is more plastic than expressive. It would seem to have been a school
task, never, I think, felt by the artist as an imperious necessity.

In contrast to this, the Fantaisie for Piano and Orchestra reveals
on perusal a work of the most lively interest and power. It is played
only rarely (we are even assured that, up to the present, it has had
no more than one performance !) 5 M. Florent Schmitt has often

^Though extreme brilliancy in not desirable., some diversity of timbre would be
necessary in this song.

^Moreover, as has already been noted, he was not reluctant to entrust this work to
some of his friends.

*We are assured that Faun* had in mind that of Siegfried ; but without Mime,
Siegfried, Wotan, or the dragon- and without Wagner. One should think rather of
the atmosphere of ** A Midsummer Nighfs Dream"

4 Promethee, and many passages in the Sonatas, bear witness to an inflexible dis
position, but with infinitely more vigour and sensitivity,

5 This, even if true in 1927, no longer applies ; the work has received an occasional
performance by the B.B.C. (7>.)

31

Gabriel Faure

deplored the unjust neglect of conductors and pianists in this regard ;
we concur wholeheartedly in these reproaches.

The first movement is built on two themes : the first, virile, solid,
boldly drawn ; the second, very simple, a la Penelope, but full of
charm and flexibility despite its bareness. The second movement,
more agitated, relentless in its rhythm, remains obedient to the
discipline which Faure often imposed on himself during this last
period of his life. The third part takes up again the opening themes,
still more crowded with imitations, and brings the work to a close
in vigorous fashion ; the form closely following Saint-Saens, but
enlivened by Faure s individuality of expression. The development
is never stifled by the deliberately canonical writing or the unity of
the rhythm. The orchestration is temperate ; there is no seeking
for effect, no " amusing colour," but one feels that it would sound well.

The times and, perhaps- on account of his modesty, already
remarked on his lack of confidence in himself prevented Faure
from writing a Symphony : but not the richness of his ideas, nor the
breadth of his inspiration. The evidence for this is shown in this
Fantaisie, so beautifully proportioned, a perfect example of pure
music.

Piano Music

THE PIANO WORKS have not the reputation of the volumes of
songs far from it. The concert world has scarcely accorded them
the place that they deserve, a place unique in our music. The Preludes
of Debussy, and Ravel s Gaspard de la Nuit, enjoy a more constant
favour. However, setting aside their great beauty, the Barcarolles
and Nocturnes of Faure show writing as perfect as it is interesting ;
there is no doubt that the master knew wonderfully well the precise
resources of this much-decried instrument. But perhaps it is that
they are less favourable to virtuosi than I* Isle joyeuse or Scarbo,
when the latter can triumph over this perilous Ravelian scherzo.
It must be remembered, however, that one of the most illustrious,
M. Alfred Cortot, persists in an admiration which he has expressed
at length in an excellent article in la Revue musicale}-

The whole forms a considerable output : thirteen Nocturnes, as
many Barcarolles, six Impromptus, four Valses-Caprices, three Romances
sans paroles, nine Preludes, the Ballade (written in the first instance
for Piano solo), the Pieces breves, a Mazurka, Theme et Variations,
and finally, Dotty 9 Suite for Piano Duet. 4t All those," wrote Faure,
" who, in the immense domain of the human mind, have seemed to
use thoughts and language hitherto unknown, have only been express
ing, through their personal sensitivity, what others have already

*l$t October, 1922.

32

Piano Music

thought and said before them." This profession of faith is confirmed
by the very titles of the collections Nocturnes, Barcaroles, etc.
also by the nature of certain musical ideas, clearly traceable to such
well known masters as Chopin and Mendelssohn (particularly in the
first Nocturnes). But it happened as with the great painters of old,
intent only on naively copying their master : despite themselves, if
they had anything to say their art became personal and, without their
knowing it, they achieved something new. So with Gabriel Faure.
Even in the traditional " accompaniment " figures he proves himself
an innovator. Arpeggios, frequently replacing chords, intertwine
with the melody ; their suppleness allows of surprises in the harmony,
and does not hinder the ear from following the movement of
appoggiaturas and passing notes which it may perceive therein. The
hammering of repeated chords as in a Chopin Prelude does not
seem to him outmoded ; and how right he was ! But a detailed
analysis would detain us too long ; there scarcely remains room to
comment rapidly on the works.

The three Romances sans paroles are early Faure (1882), they take
us^ back to the time of le Ruisseau. The young musician in the naivety
of his inspiration made no attempt to avoid Mendelssohn or Schumann.
Moreover, he is recognisable already, by umnistakeable signs ;
especially in the third of these pieces, whose ** romantic " character
will doubtless appear somewhat facile to the proud who would like
to admire only the sublime, something worthy of themselves. But,
as with the good Chabrier, it is here so in place, and done so felicitously,
that the evocation of this " autrefois sentimental " is one charm more.
Happy the soul of the artist who knows not the fear of his first
utterances being sincere and naive !

The four Valses- Caprices 1 appear less subjective, one hesitates to
say superficial ; but the musician has not given himself up to the
contemplation of night ; the salon is as bright as day, conversation
is gay, lively and animated. M. Cortot has well expressed it : " music
so glib and sparkling, whose worldly nature is not glossed over."
And he rightly praises their tc sensual grace," their " perfect distinction **
and their t impassioned tenderness." Moreover, these are not ail
youthful works, for the third dates from 1891, almost contemporaneous
with la Bonne Chanson, and the fourth (1894) is catalogued Op. 62
Quite independent of their real value (the brilliant facility of Saint-
Saens here enriched by a grain of sensitivity, in just the right proportion
for this style), they are esteemed as an exercise of lively and vivid
inspiration. They restore the balance to a mind inclined, on the
other side, to the Verlainien touch of melancholy.

The Impromptus play an analogous role in his career, and particularly
the second, with its tarentelle-like rhythm, and the fifth, whose rapid
semiquavers (in 2/4 time) anticipate those of the Scherzo of the second
Quintet. The sixth is none other than a piano transcription of the
Impromptu for harp, with, of course, virtuosity playing a large part
but without in any way becoming unmusical.

*There is in existence too a Mazurka of an analogous character ; but of less marked
interest,

33

Gabriel Faure

Dolly is at times allied to the Valses-Caprices, but a more intro
spective Faure is often apparent. This charming album 1 was written
as a sort of commentary on the games and pastimes of a little girl.
Childhood is seen by each of us in his own peculiar manner. Debussy,
in " Children s Corner," has described with humour the amusements
of his dear little " Chouchou," as seen by a grown-up. 2 Faure,
while preserving his poetic feeling, seems nearer to the child : ^ for
instance, in the Berceuse with which the Suite opens. Who else, since
the death of Gounod, could have written it? This precise and
dreamy simplicity, this writing at once artless and wise, seems the
secret of the master. The combination of ingenuousness and refine
ment displayed by Dolly s garden (No. 3) and Tendresses (No. 5)
will perhaps cause some surprise. A profound logic is concealed
in the paradox ; if the woman can be discerned in the child, is it
not at bottom most reasonable? correctly and subtly observed?
The mood of the Vahes-Caprices returns in Mf-a-ou (No. 2), and
especially in Kitty-Valse (No. 4), so full of animation. And the
Suite ends with an astounding homage to Chabrier, le Pas espagnol,
a masterpiece of gaiety, humour and solid architecture. 3

One of Faure s characteristics, and one which all the great masters
have not possessed, was his extreme variety the precious gift of
passing from severe to tender, from grave to gay. Thus, such works
as Dolly and the last Valse-Caprice^ the C Sharp Minor Nocturne,
and the Theme et Variations were in point of time very near neighbours.
This last, in a form so difficult to treat without monotony, is second
to none in beauty. It can be said that here Faure has played the
game according to the rules and won. The initial motif is presented
with that vigour which too many of the ignorant deny to the musician
of Promethee. A noble melody, stamped with the clearness of an
old coin. The Variations, while always pianistic and of the greatest
interest from the instrumental point of view, are cast more than once
in the form of counterpoint accompanying the original theme, a
most useful means to the variety which is so necessary. It also
forces boldness on the musician by the use of passing notes, and he
proves himself here an incomparable master. Besides, the rhythms
and harmony are so diversified that boredom is never present for
an instant. The tenth Variation is a kind of scherzo, very quick,
a veritable tour de force of modulation, and the work is rounded off
by the eleventh Variation, most expressive, the harmony translucid
and serene, tender, moving, consoling, peaceful ; very beautiful
Schumann, but from the second bar stamped with the indelible,
original mark of Gabriel Faure. These pages, alone, suffice to place
it without a peer in the literature of the piano.

The Huit pieces breves, slightly later (in the maturity, almost the

l Dedicated to Mile, Dolly Bardac t the daughter of the lady to whom la Bonne
Chanson is inscribed.

*And he adds, giving the impression of being a little detached from these games,
" with the delicate excuses of her father for what follows."

*The Suite was orchestrated by M Henri Rabaud ; this orchestral version was used
to accompany an ingenious ballet (the story due to M. L. Laloy) at the Arts Theatre,
under Rouche s direction,

34

Piano Music

old age, of the master) nevertheless bear witness to a most significant
youthfulness and freshness. But none knew better than he how to
banish melancholy ; he was full of serenity, even vivacity, right up
to the time of the second Quintet. 1 He had the rare and salutory
gift of overcoming bitterness, of recovering his spirits after days of
depression, as if some force of clarity and inner joy existed in the
music itself. And no doubt this force did in fact exist. The collection
of Eight Short Pieces, in the first edition (which we have before us)
had no titles. 2 To go rapidly over these several pieces : No. 1, in
E Flat, typically Faurien, reminiscent of the naive tunes of la Bonne
Chanson, but now much simplified, the writing very restrained ;
No. 2, a pleasant Feuillet cT album ; Nos. 3 and 6, fugues in a
simple and correct style, obviously less rich than those in the Well-
tempered Clavier., and more careful, but whose reserve conceals an
incontestable mastery ; No. 4, Andante moderate, serious, grave,
at once firm and pliant, attaining real beauty ; No. 5, a sight-reading
test written for the Conservatoire, less meditative than the foregoing,
but how musical ! No. 7, a song, pure and gay, uplifted towards a
sunlit sky, a youthful outpouring, full of happiness, foreshadowing
the admirable finale of the second Violin Sonata, and the overpowering
joy at the end of the first movement of the second Quintet ; No. 8,
also included among the Nocturnes, less affecting than the sixth and
seventh Nocturnes, but full of emotion and sensitivity.

The Nine Preludes (Op. 103) are almost unknown, both to the
public and to most pianists ! I know of no injustice so great, unless
it be the persistent disregard of the first Quintet, or the neglect by
our concert directors of the fine Fantaisie for Piano and Orchestra
No. 1, in D Flat, an intimate Andante, a nocturne, of subtle and
transparent harmonies a golden evening sky ,above " les pins et les
arbousiers " of En sourdine ; here are to be found also moving
recollections of C est Vextase y with the same refinement, the same
clear atmosphere ; No. 2, as it were a paraphrase of the Opium
Dream of Saint-Saens Melodies persanes (a work certainly too
neglected), a feverish whirling of dervishes, concluding, in a sort of
ecstasy, with the evocation of some fairy palace ; No. 3, a barcarolle
whose development, with its intentional tonal ambiguity, recalls one
of the " Venetian melodies," A Clymene though perhaps richer and
fuller. No. 4 is a guileless pastorale, flexible, with succinct and
refined modulations ; while No. 5 is emotional, violent, the very
embodiment of rage. Then, as if reflecting on its own folly, its
conclusion is painfully expressive, reminiscent of the Libera of the
Requiem : altogether one of the most touching revelations of his
inner self and, it would seem, an almost involuntary confession
troubled, yet at the same time carried out in the most perfect musical
order. No. 6 ? a canon at the octave, supported by a solitary middle
part. The writing here is strangely bold, in its implied passing-
notes, with many a surprise arising from the inflexible discipline of

t-Cf. the charming and brilliant Scherzo of this work.

*Those which from time to time have been added will be found in the catalogue at
the end.

35

Gabriel Faur

the corresponding voices. No. 7, with the rhythm of N*est-ce pas ?
(from la Bonne Chanson) running through it, quietly passionate at
first, then rising to fortissimo ; No. 8, in jerky and lively rhythm,
is a vigorous scherzo ; and finally, No. 9, expressive, darkly mysterious,
and recalling in places the Offertoire from the Requiem.

Apart from the Preludes of Chopin, it is hard to think of a collection
of similar pieces that are so important. Richly and subtly concise,
they bring us face to face with a human soul. Both form and writing
are impeccable ; but these means are at one with the inner idea,
and seem as if determined by it.

We shall return later to the question of Faure s evolution. But
for the time being let us assume that a division into three periods
is logical 1 " In the first," writes M. Cortot, " there is the fleeting,
sensuous pleasure of his waking hours, the charming and glowing
pictures of his dreams, the emotions and desires of adolescence."
In the second period : " Later, up to the time of the ninth Nocturne,
there is the emotional glow of maturity the passionate and deliberate
conflict of feeling." In the third period, comprising Penelope and
onwards, " a ineffable grave beauty, a restrained ardour, on which
a purified and spiritualised musical style confers a sort of serene
philosophy." "... the reserved and urgent eloquence of a harmonic
language whose intensity seems to grow in proportion as it frees itself
of superfluous ornamentation." This latest manner of the master,
where the form grows from an inflexible but withal supple 2 logic,
lends itself to the most diverse expression ; it would be dangerous
to qualify this by the single word ; serenity (that of la Chanson d Eve,
the Andante of the second Violin Sonata, etc.). It has already been
suggested that this serenity is only the result of sometimes very
violent eddies (cf. the Prelude in D Minor). And some penetrating
words of M. R. Hahn supplement those of M. Cortot : a Faur6
"ardent, uneasy, of fleeting tonalities and restless, modulating
harmonies which quicken with a feverish circulation the inner currents
of an irresistible and insinuating counterpoint."

The musician of the Romances sans paroles, Aurore and Nell (already
more developed) is equally the composer of the first five Nocturnes
and the first four Barcarolles ; which brings us to about the time
of Op. 37, Still, the first Nocturne, in E Flat Minor, shows at times
a striking and grave maturity, with typically Faurien harmony from
the outset, over an accompaniment of chords, a la Chopin. A second,
rather Mendelssohnian theme, over a growling bass, in sextolets, is
followed by a very Venetian echo of the Mendelssohn Barcarolle.
Note too the subtlety of the passing notes and appoggiaturas on
the return of the principal theme. The openings of the second and

l These periods, it Is true, overlap to some extent, with no precise demarkation ;
there are reminiscences and impressions of youthfulness in works later than Promethee,
and long beforehand there is the suggestion of that gravity which will move us so pro
foundly from the seventh Nocturne onwards. But on the whole the classification is
just, and the characteristics clearly defined.

*Tke suppleness lies in the musical quality of the modulations and the harmonic
progressions, in certain melodic lines, in delicate shades of meaning ; the order and
logic are apparent especially in the vigorous themes, the canonic imitations and the
finely proportioned developments.

36

Piano Music

third Nocturnes affirm the simplicity of the impressions which crowd
upon one- in the calm of a beautiful evening. But the second has
some very dramatic episodes, and the third some delicate harmony
(where too, at the return of the melody, in the left hand, there are
some resemblances to the middle portion of Aware). The fourth
also is founded on a very simple idea, of the feuillet d album
order, which makes what follows still more remote in its undulating
" barcarollian " mystery ; then comes an expressive outpouring,
exploiting the Faurien tritone. The fifth, whose opening phrase
(like that of the fourth) remains " in the present," is developed by
more refinement of harmony : the form, like the preceding, is ternary
the middle portion agitated and impetuous.

The first four Barcarolles date from the same time. 1 No. I, in A
Minor, in the same style as his setting of Marc Monnier s poem ;
although never complex, already the harmony is thoughtful and
flexible. No. 2, G Major, more lively, begins as a sort of serenade,
but soon becomes more passionate, with the tonality strongly marked.
No. 3, G Flat, inspired by Chopin to some extent, and from the first
page much more liberal with modulations than the preceding ; and
No. 4, A Flat, one of the best known, tuneful, quite short, perhaps
more direct than the others.

An interval of some years 1886 to 1891 elapsed before Faure
returned to piano composition. This was the time of the Requiem,
of Shylock and Caligula, also of the fine songs of the second volume.
It was also the beginning of what we have called the second period
of his art. From 1894 on were produced some new works for piano,
few in number but of rare beauty. 2 First, the celebrated and excellent
sixth Nocturne* La Bonne Chanson has had a great influence on it ;
one finds echoes of it in the passionate outpouring of the very first
phrase. A new motif follows, with a syncopated accompaniment,
concealing beneath its apparent tranquillity a persistent inquietude ;
it is as it were a hesitant questioning, to which the reply (after the
return of the initial phrase) is a lengthy development on a serene
melody, subdued and contemplative ; this episode closes with a
display of pianism, logically evolved, and leading to the recapitulation
of the principal theme. But analysis is powerless to convey the real
and profound vitality animating this work. As fine, and possibly
even finer, is the grave seventh Nocturne, closely akin to the Theme
et Variations, and also in the same key, C Sharp Minor. Here we
have extremely concise but clear modulations and masterly part-
writing. The opening already foreshadows that of the second Act
of Penelope, full of a great and noble melancholy. It seems that
after the amorous effusions of la Bonne Chanson* Faure s thoughts
turned in the direction of the austere always, however, realised
in a most musicianly fashion ! For example, the Theme et Variations,

1 Nocturnes 1-5, from 1883-84 ; Barcarolles 1-4, from 1883-86 ; the second Quartet
was finished in 1886.

*Irt the meantime there was the third Valse-Caprice (1891) and Dolly (1893).

*In the favourite key of D Flat, the key also of Soir, Cest Textase and the first
Prelude.

37

Gabriel Faure

and that lovely song, la Foret de Septembre ; also, the fifth Barcarolle, 1
inspired by the stormy rages of the deep ( * the sea, and the bold,
free passion of an Antony and Cleopatra which these powerful rhythms
awaken," writes M. Cortot).

The works of the third period, published by Heugel and Durand, 3
show an apparent simplification of technique. 3 There is an economy
of writing, illustrated by the sixth and seventh Barcarolles ; the former
is more moderate and tranquil in expression, the latter^ more restless
and sombre, recalling Crepuscule (from Chanson cTEve), and the
syncopations which appear in a similar context in Accompagnement
C* la rame tombe et se releve . . ."). The opening rhythm of No. 8,
joyous and well-marked, soon gives place to an inner melancholy,
also characteristic of the contemporaneous ninth Nocturne. 9 - The
Ninth recalls, as in a hazy remoteness, the happiness of the past.
Much more tonal, with a certain sedate gravity (as if tired of the
passion of la Bonne Chanson^ whose influence nevertheless reappears
in other works in this period), the Tenth Barcarolle preserves the
monotony appropriate to a grey evening. No. 11, somewhat severe
in rhythm, obedient to that constant discipline which characterises
the composer s latest style, contrasts well with the Twelfth, allegretto
giocoso (dedicated to L. Diemer), opening in an almost popular
Italian manner from which, with the subtlety one would expect, he
soon makes his escape. Finally, the Thirteenth and last Barcarolle,
bare, 6 superficially almost dry, but at heart most expressive with that
deep nostalgia for vanished bright horizons : sentiments that the
composer suggests in passing rather than comments on in loquacious
or theatrical oratory ; he seemed to desire to preserve the soothing
and illusory serenity of the mirage.

Besides, this mirage is peculiar to the Barcarolle, Chopin s as much
as Faure s. That strange impression of unreal light, of the landscape
reflected in a mirror, corresponds here to the very nature of the
musical thought, which remains of a dreamy remoteness. By contrast,
the Nocturnes, particularly the last ones, are more direct ; their
expression is at least as profound, perhaps more so, but they are
precise despite the suppleness of the harmony and, sometimes, of the
melody.

The Ninth Nocturne, gravely charming, uses very few notes ; the
luxuriance of the Sixth and Seventh seems romantic in comparison,

*This Barcarolle dates from 1895 ; Theme et Variations, 1897 ; the seventh
Nocturne, from 1898.

*With the exception of the sixth Barcarolle, published by Hamelle.

z ln reality, the modulations have become extremely subtle often very concise,or
else unexpected in their harmony : and the use of retardations^ of " echappees " (see
note on page 68} and finally, certain progressions in the bass., musically logical but of
great boldness, have combined to render this third manner sufficiently enigmatic to
the non-initiates.

4 Accompagnement (Op. 85, No. 2) dates from 1903 ; the seventh Barcarolle
(Op, 90) appeared in 1906 the eighth Barcarolle and the ninth Nocturne were pub
lished in 1908.

5 The notes reduced to a minimum., whence results the delicacy of certain translucent
harmonies ; e.g., by a simple retardation in the bass, as in that beautiful song from
le Jardin clos : " Je me poserai sur ton coeur. . . ."

38

Piano Music

despite the classic sureness of development and the nobility of idea.
It is built on a single theme, appearing first in a lower part, returning
higher up the scale, and developed in periods repeated at the distance
of a tone or semitone a method dear to the composer from Promethee
and the first Quintet to the String Quartet, and which would perhaps
be monotonous in musicians of second-rate phraseology, but in the
case of Faure the intensity of his expression makes it legitimate, and
brings out the true value of the richness latent in this expression.
Throughout these almost symmetrical periods the inner emotion
grows and expands, working up effortlessly to a climax of great
sonority, yet without disturbing the design or interrupting the per
sistent rhythm. The work ends in B Major with a most moving
peroration, in a lyrical style inspired by la Borne Chanson. Spiritually
akin to the foregoing, the tenth Nocturne opens with a very simple
and slow-moving phrase, as it were made out of nothing ; but which
grown magnificently, over a strongly moving bass line. Imitations
between the bass and the treble, a few semiquavers just sufficient
for the animation of the fortissimo and then comes relaxation, in
the minor as at first. The following Nocturne, No. 11, "en souvenir
de Noemi Lalo," a funeral elegy, calm and resigned at first, rises
gradually to fortissimo, in accents of revolt against the young woman s
death. There are some peculiar chord progressions, returning again
and again to a characteristic cadence in one of the Greek modes, 1 -
ancient in spirit, but extremely modern in the audacity of its concise
modulations. It remains a very moving work, quite as fine as the
two preceding and perhaps more so, one whose mysterious tones
reveal new beauties at each fresh hearing. No. 12 proves to be equally
austere grave and sombre, and at times enigmatic with its alternations
of Major and Minor. Finally, the thirteenth and last, without doubt
the most deeply felt and emotional, the finest of these pieces. It
dates from 1922. At this period Faure harboured no illusions con
cerning his age ; the present appeared to him merciless. There can
be no doubt with regard to the first theme ; whether or no he intended
it thus, it is his heaviness of spirit, his age, that is depicted for us,
and with what richness of harmony so simple, but how new and
striking ! But now, a world of memories besets him, singing the
extravagances of yesterday ; sudden glimpses of the past, infinite
regrets followed by a passionately impetuous episode, a renewal of
life, even ! and then, relapse into the theme overwhelmed with age.
Fresh bursts of energy follow, a pathetic exuberance ; some pianism,
this time very prominent (despite the writing which, though never
scholastic, is most correct) leads us to a su/nmum of expression. Then
the conclusion, agonised, sombre infinite lassitude and despair
the inescapable future which opens for him, the aeterna requies.

All this, we feel, is in this work, so direct, so profoundly human ;
expressionist (so the modem aestheticians would describe it) even
almost descriptive, and constructed with an incomparable musical
logic and solidity of writing. Such pages, although little known

*The Mode starting on E (Phrygian) ; a notable example is to be found in Herod s
Air " O misere des rois. . . "from FEnfence du Christ (Berlioz)*

39

Gabriel Faure

and rarely heard, are not for the programmes of virtuosi nor are
they for the salon. One cannot imagine them offered to the ordinary
public who, delighting only in empty virtuosity, dread any powerful
emotion, above all sorrow. One would wish for no audience other
than the friends of the composer, or the select few whose refined
feelings and instinct for the beautiful would have prepared them
for the understanding of this language of all humanity, vibrant,
profound, but grave and mournful : much sadder in actual fact than
the Requiem.

Besides, neither the eleventh nor the twelfth Nocturnes would
survive the atmosphere of the brilliantly lighted concert hall, in the
company of fashionable people who perhaps immediately afterwards
would seek diversion in some night-club. Pianists should not ignore
them for that reason ; on the contrary, they should get to know them
and play them, either privately, or at concerts to carefully chosen
audiences. They should make known these masterpieces the Preludes
also to music lovers capable of appreciating them, and able in their
turn to spread them round the circle of the initiates to Faure s art ;
for the majority of these initiates are ignorant of them. Such a
desire is not, perhaps, quite incapable of realisation.

Chamber Music

THE TRADITIONALIST SPIRIT ought not to be put off by one
who, unpremeditating and even unaware, " a quarter of a century
before other composers, spoke readily a prophetic language, with
an ease, virtuosity and elegance which has not been surpassed." 1
One must take care, therefore, on noting that the Quartets and
Sonatas of Faure are conceived in broad outline on what is known
as the classical plan. 2 Faure has been careful, to quote again from
M. Vuillermoz, not to " trace his plan from the sub-structure of a
classical masterpiece," to "reproduce strictly neither the complete
framework nor the details of the architecture . . ." " Faure knew
how to create new lines, unseen proportions and unsuspected balances,
and his work is thus much more solidly constructed than that of those
engineers eternally reproducing the same mass-produced ideal
homes . . ." "He was the first to make us understand that one
could even that one ought to create, each one, his own form,"
Certainly, he was at bottom too good a musician to impose on
his pupils the harmful tyranny of prescribed forms, or even to permit
these slavish imitations. Nor in his works do we find any such

and subsequent lines, in inverted commas, are taken from a remarkable
article by M. E. Vuillermoz, in k Revue Musicale, 1st October, 1922.

*The customary meaning of this word, corresponding to the first movements of
Haydn., Mozart and Beethoven, neglects the quite different construction of Bach and
Handel s Sonatas, etc.

40

Chamber Music

servitude. 1 If he chose to respect customary usage, he, like Mozart,
nevertheless preserved a freedom, an extreme flexibility, under an
apparent obedience. It can be said that there was no modulation
he would not use if it pleased him, if it sounded well, and if it seemed
not untimely to his sense of proportion. But these excursions, far
from a tonality to which he returned how and when he pleased, with
the perfect grace of a cat falling on its feet, are analysable only by close
study, by playing or hearing his music. We must therefore once
again beg to be excused from following step by step the tonal evolutions
of expositions and developments. It will be better to attempt to
describe the works.

The first Violin and Piano Sonata dates from 1876. Without
knowing the facts one would say that it was inspired by the much
later work of Cesar Franck. Indeed, the vehemence of the Allegro
does show some affinity at times with Franck s second movement.
But render unto Gabriel, and not unto " Cesar," that which is
Gabriel s. And, as sometimes with Mozart, on what distant horizons
does the development open ! And to think that for some foreigners
this art lacks depth ! The humour of the Scherzo is of extraordinary
freshness, with tonal liberties very daring for the period. In the
Trio, a graceful quietude reminds us (a rare thing for Faure) of
Schumann. The maturity exhibited in the Andante (fruit, perhaps,
ofApres tm reve) is at least the equal of the fine pages of " the classics."
The feeling of anguish in the ninths dies down towards a complete
serenity, overcoming this concentrated pathos ; the strongest and
most moving serenity. The Finale brings us back to the light of
day in a vigorous rhythm which the " second subject " is not allowed
to enfeeble. Thus, a master stroke concludes this first attempt.

The two Piano Quartets have some traits in common., enough to
justify their being studied together. Each opens, Allegro, with an
energetic and virile statement of the opening motif* soon followed
by the second, more flowing, theme, answered imitatively. Next
comes the development, and then the return of the first phrase, this
time harmonised in the gentle Faurien way. Is one justified in thus
transforming a " masculine " theme in metamorphising it into a
kind of misty memory, into nostalgic thoughts and loving regrets ?
But why not, if it is done well ? The Scherzos, vigorous, fantastic,
with their meditative Trios, contrast well with the great charm of
the Andantes. In the first of these we have a broad and sweeping
melody, succeeded by a song of infinite tenderness. The form is
ternary, thus allowing for a repeat, slightly differing. The Andante
of the Second Quartet opens with a mysterious sound of bells, in
the bass ; the reply to this is a beautiful recitative on the viola for
which, if it did not already exist, it would have been necessary to
invent this noble instrument, so complete is the unity between its
timbre and the very nature of its subject matter. We cannot go

l lt would, moreover, be vain to pretend that> because Faure in the main adopts the
classical scheme, Exposition, Development, Recapitulation, this thereby confirms the
existence of only one possible Allegro movement. Other forms are allowable and
logical.

Q 4i

Gabriel Faure

into all the details of the spacious and pliant development of this
movement ; but, at each fresh hearing, on the final return of the viola
theme, we are transported far from reality, into a fairy-land beyond
the limits of the conscious. Sadness or happiness ? Is it indeed
of this world ? One cannot tell. We need not seek to know, nor
are mere words of avail and I must be excused from having recourse
to them. After these two very beautiful Andantes there is a risk
of appearing less admiring with regard to the last movements. It
must be admitted that Faure is not at his best in Finales. Certain
of the sonatas of Beethoven would seem to have been created for the
development of a joy which carries everything before it ; we expect
it, and are not disappointed. Sometimes again, we are ravished by
an ingenuous cheerfulness, rustic and good-humoured. In Haydn
and Mozart, too, there are some incomparable masterpieces ; x and if
the conclusion of the C Minor languishes somewhat (in the recapitula
tion, and particularly in the return of the Second Subject), that of
the Eroica remains without a peer. But rarely is Faure so successful ;
apart from the admirable paraphrase of la Bonne Chanson, naively
lyrical, joyous and passionate, which rounds off the Second Violin
Sonata. 2 Nevertheless it remains true that the Finales of both Piano
Quartets do not lack for real beauty nor even moments of pulsating
life.

The First Quintet is almost completely unknown, and is very rarely
played. Perhaps, at its first performance, it was not valued at its
true worth ? Besides, difficulties of a material kind arose, connected
with the exchange for it is published by Schirmers of New York.
But the need to rescue it from oblivion is urgent ; it is one of the
master s finest works. It opens with a suave and strong theme,
serene, noble, in an atmosphere of incomparable purity and luminosity.
A grave second motif follows, given to strings alone ; and then we
have some pathetic episodes whose eloquence (in their harmonic
language and the design of the phrases) seem obviously of his Bonne
Chanson period. It is quite likely that the Quintet 3 promised as
Op. 60, but which never appeared (that is to say, between the Melodies
de Venise, Op. 58, and la Bonne Chanson,, Op. 61), is none other than
this Quintet : the first movement of which we have just spoken (to
all appearances written during these fruitful years) is thus seen as
a magnificent culmination of this period. 4 It might be that the
Adagio is slightly later, contemporaneous with la Foret de Septembre,
certain harmonies from which here recur, from the second bar. This
Adagio too is of great beauty ; extremely sparing of notes, and with
great^ intensity of expression. Some characteristics of the later
Faure can be seen here ; viz., certain retardations, also the canonic
Second Subject, so perfectly worked out that one forgets to admire
the skill and mastery of style where each note seems to fall into place

^Finale of the ** Jupiter" Symphony, etc.
*Or better still, the Finale of the First Quintet.
*See the list of works at the end of the volume.

*We know moreover, on reliable information, that Faure was long in finishing this
Quintet which, numbered Op. 89, was published in 1906.

42

Chamber Music

quite naturally, without heed to the rules of imitative counterpoint,
which nevertheless are obeyed perfectly. As for the Finale, cheerful,
lively, and at first almost homely (without the least concession to the
trivial), then, firm and serious on the entry of the somewhat austere
Second Subject, after which the youthful charm of the first idea seems
even more sprightly, this movement is sustained with no weakness,
strongly contrapuntal and rhythmic. Towards the end it is quickened
and broadened in a transport of joy comparable to that in the last
movement of the Second Violin Sonata joy sincere, radiant, pro
foundly human so rarely achieved by musicians and so full of vital
force. 1 But such expansive force in development, such admirable
balance of youth and maturity, of mastery and lyricism, is to be found
all through this Quintet and especially in the conclusion of
each movement. See, for example, the harmony on pages 29-30
of the first movement and, towards the end of the Adagio, the
intensity attained by a tenderness as deep as it is passionate more
concentrated even than in the Piano Quartets. This is explained
by the fine writing that perfection of style wherein form dominates
expression, but without constraint (as is seen in the expressiveness
of J. S. Bach).

In actual fact, we are here together with the Second Quintet and
the Second Violin Sonata In the presence of one of the first classics
of our time. This will be realised one day ; we can only hope that
this daywill not be long delayed.

The Second Violin Sonata (Op. 108, 1917) confirms Faure s evolution
towards an ever greater purity, towards that Hellenism betrayed by
all his works since Promethee. JBut as always in the evolution o
a great artist the* majority of his supporters refused to follow him.
Even around 1895-1900 there were people to whom the first volume
of songs seemed preferable to the second. There were the same
complaints against la Bonne Chanson by the admirers of les Berceaux
and so on. It is not surprising that the Sonata of 1876 should
be more favoured by violinists. However, if we had to make a
choice it would fall on the second. Without knowing its date, one
would judge it to be contemporaneous with Penelope, if only because
of the noble and tender Andante, whose convolutions answer each
other like those of the fine canon which ends the first Act of the lyric
drama. It will be objected that the motif was to be found in the
Symphony jn D, now destroyed. Granted ; but as a starting point.
The real idea is the whole of the development, with the bold serenity
of its harmonies ; this could have been conceived only at the time
of Penelope. The opening Allegro strikes a proud attitude ; people
sometimes find it austere. Expecting of Faure only mellifluous and
gentle chords (a consequence of the reputation le Secret and les Roses
d lspahan made for him), they are surprised, even disconcerted, by a
force calm and sure, and moreover essentially harmonious. So much

*It is strange that at the first performance this Finals did not command the admira
tion of the audience ; but if our memory is correct the work gave the impression oj
stopping abruptly. Was it perhaps that people expected four movements, instead of
three ? or was it perhaps that the opening of the movement was too quick and the
development insufficiently powerful?

43

Gabriel Faure

the worse for the uncomprehending ! As for the Finale, it remains,
as we have said, incomparable. It is a magnificent climb to joyous
summits, after commencing with a theme astonishingly youthful and
ingenuous. There are dfcvious reminiscences of la Bonne Chanson ;
but what a rich inspiration is needed, to make out of a single melody,
VHiver a cesse, a whole Finale of a Sonata ! Faure brings off this
dangerous gamble with ease.

The two Cello Sonatas testify to an equal vigour, to the same
virility of inspiration. Austere at times, always tdrnperate, animated
but superbly controlled, they will deceive listeners accustomed to the
" swooning " of an instrument whose chanterelle too often delights
in the accents of the operatic tenor. Faure restores the instrument
to its true role. The Allegro of the First Sonata is built on two
themes : one, jerky, rhythmic, firm, suggests the air of warlike violence
which Ulysses sings at the opening of the third Act of Penelope ; a
second motif succeeds it, simple, and expressive without insipidity.
The same contrast is found in the first movement of the Second
Sonata, the writing, in canon, even more compact, and ending in the
major, glowing and happy. The two Andantes reveal great beauty :
the first, on a pattern which may be found in Penelope, leading to
a calm and serene ending a kind of Nocturne whose mood recalls
somewhat that of the Second Violin Sonata. The Andante of the
Second Sonata, in C Minor, opens after the style of the Biggie ; there
is more of serenity, though particularly at the point wheise arises
the A Flat theme, so pure and consoling. The Finales, animated,
vigorous and noble, end, in the major, with the same burst of light
which one finds at the end of the firstmovement of the Second Quintet.

This Second Quintet is well known. Rare unanimity almost
everyone admires it, from MM. Louis Aubert and Roger-Ducasse to
Georges Auric and Poulene. Their approach, it is true, is through
Penelope. And certainly, at the first performance, it was with pleased
surprise that people found such vigorous and youthful music in the
veteran composer. Sympathy is necessary for the understanding of
all his works, and above all for this one, whose Doric style (as we
saw in the Second Violin Sonata) could be disconcerting from the
Allegro onwards. This is built on a vigorous but extraordinarily
simple theme, such as is to be found in Penelope on three notes
followed by nobly expressive cadances and retardations (as in la
Fort de Septembre). The development is spacious, its virile sensitivity
never becoming insipid by reason of petty nuances. 1 Perhaps we see
in this Allegro the finest first movement of Gabriel Faure. The
Scherzo reveals an incredible youthfulness, in its rapid scale passages
and the light-hearted ease of its hymn to " la vie qui continue . . ."
And from a man of his years, knowing full well that he must soon
depart, this is more moving than one can say ! The Andante, even
more, seems to revive the events that are gone. But, so intense,
impassioned and tender in its long-drawn notes for the strings, it

1 Save, sometimes, under the hands of the performers. But this is not the fault of the
composer, who took care to mark ; f sempre, for long periods. The performance
should proceed on broad lines, with no fear of monotony which, by reason of the power
of the inspiration, need cause no anxiety.

44

Chamber Music

reveals an extreme sorrow in this pleading with out-stretched arms
towards a past which will return no more. The depths of a heart
still young fiery torches burn there the final glow, strangely revived,
from fires about to be extinguished. And we remain gripped in a
meditative sadness before the apparent calmness which reclothes,
in its musical perfection, a poem till then unique in his artistic career.
As for the Finale, likewise firm and brisk, what was said of the Piano
Quartets applies here. It ends less brilliantly than the Second Violin
Sonata or the First Quintet.

The Second Cello Sonata, analysed with the first, followed just
after. Then came the Trio for Piano, Violin and Violincello. It
seems to us spiritually at one with the Second Quintet, especially
in the Andante ; it is perhaps as beautiful, though more reserved and
constrained in tone. Its charm is incomparable ; the balance of
timbres and tessituras, so difficult to achieve in this medium, is without
a fault. As for the writing, it is of amazing subtlety ; as in r Horizon
chimerique, each note has its part to play, and says more than would
be thought possible.

The String Quartet is the equal of the masterpieces in this genre.
It forms a worthy conclusion to this series, though there is no doubt
that the Finale is not equal in value to the other movements. But
in these, what profound melancholy the expression of a final farewell !
Not that the inspiration falters for an instant ; but one would say
that here is the traveller on life s journey, bowed down, at the end
of his resources, infinitely weary, abandoning himself to fate. " Go
thy way, youth of humanity ; I go no further, awaiting death to
morrow." He saw departing towards the future, disappearing over
the horizon, all his companions and fellow travellers. Had Faure
any idea that all this would be apparent in his work ? We do not
know. Sometimes the subconscious discloses thoughts one would
never confess to. No matter ; here, in the most beautiful language,
is the symbol of that final lassitude, and the presentiment without
bitterness, but with the most painful resignation of an end not to
be long delayed. In fact, it came immediately the work was finished.
But one should not be deceived in the underlying meaning. " All
here is joy and serenity," wrote one critic. No : this perfectly realised
serenity cannot deceive one, and it is impossible to forget the sadness
that it masks.

45

Miscellaneous Instrumental Pieces

TO THE SONATAS and Quartets are added a number of shorter
works :

For Violin, the charming Berceuse, well known, but a work one
hears again and again with undiminished pleasure a sign that its
simplicity is not empty or trivial. The Andante is catalogued Op. 75 ;
one would imagine it to be earlier than compositions with neighbouring
Opus numbers. The nature of the harmony, the very character of
the expression makes us think so notably the middle portion, then
the rather Franckian development and the repeat, ff, of the first theme.

For Cello, there are some pieces of charm (Romance in A) or of
virtuosity (Papillons) : not unpleasing, but certainly less worthy of
preservation than rlegfe (Op. 24), a renowned miniature, with its
beautiful, grief-stricken phrase whose nobility is the equal of that
in the Andante of the First Quartet also in the same key of C Minor. 1
The middle section, in the relative major, is very expressive, as affecting
as the second theme of the Allegretto of Beethoven s Seventh Symphony.
The first theme is then repeated, ff, and is followed by a Coda on the
second motif. The whole piece is finely wrought and beautifully
balanced ; orchestrated, its beauty remains unimpaired.

The Serenade (Op. 98) likewise for Cello, is too little known.
Charming, witty, soaring, with touches of Mandoline, more Venetian
than Spanish, it would figure worthily in the score of Shy lock.

Mention must also be made of : the Romance (Op. 28) for Violin
and Orchestra ; the Sidlienne for Cello and Orchestra (Op. 78) ;
the Fantaisie for Flute and Piano (Op. 79) ; and a little unpublished
piece for Cello (Op. 49). The Impromptu for Harp is the original
version of the sixth Impromptu for piano.

Finally, there are various transcriptions (for Violin or Cello) of songs
or piano works. But they are not due to Faure ; moreover, there
is nothing to show that, in his inner heart, he approved of all these
arrangements, on which we will dwell no longer except to mention
the skilful adaptations for Piano Solo by M. Alfred Cortot, of the
Berceuse, from Dolly, and la Fileuse, from Pelleas et Melisande.

l lt is remarkable how with Faure the same tonality is often used for the expression
of similar sentiments. Compare the Libera, from the Requiem, with the ending of
the Prelude in D Minor.

46

The Stage

RAMEAU DID NOT approach the theatre until he was fifty ;
Faure delayed still longer before Penelope. We cannot regret that
he waited until he had attained mastery ; how many there are who,
too soon, have plunged into an art they considered lucrative, indulging
in carelessness and mediocre ideas which do nothing to conceal the
inexcusable bombast in a word, an art of inferior quality under the
pretext that a " theatrical style " is necessary, and that a phrase requires
a special grossness before it will get across the footlights. The error
of this unhealthy tradition is demonstrated by Figaro, Boris Godounqffl
Pelleas . . . Music is a whole, and there is no need for the theatrical
style to be opposed to that of the symphony. Faure s trump card
was to have understood this. It does not follow that the wife of
Ulysses will express herself like the poet of la Bonne Chanson ; and
already the voice of the Pie Jesu, pleading eternal rest, has been
distinguished from this ; no one was more master of these nuances.
But they are never contrary to the regard for good writing ; they never
destroy the unity of a style which, always, proclaims itself the best.

Unity is necessary. This salutory axiom determined the subordina
tion of the drama to the expression of feelings. In the lyric theatre,
the movement comes from the spirit, and not from sensationalism
or operatic splendour. That truth, misunderstood by all those who
used to find that the Garden Act from Faust dragged, and clearly
proclaimed by the third Act of Tristan, or the fine Duet of Arkel and
Melisande, Faure did not fail to observe in composing Penelope. By
these excellent principles (also dictated by his musical good sense),
this masterpiece stands apart from the mediocrities on the " prix de
Rome Cantata " pattern, which weighed heavily all their lives on many
laureates of the Institute. But luckily for him, Faur< was never at
the Villa Medici. 1

Finally, one important gift was his a gift denied to many famous
musicians. Less truly " theatre-minded " than Faure (despite the
current opinion), their language never varies, their invention does not
correspond to the diverse characters of the dramatis personae. In
contrast to this, Faure s melodies revealing a profound poetry with
a supple precision, so perfectly apt, it was not to be doubted that
he would succeed even though he had not the " experience " of an
old hand, though he disdained the tricks of the stage and paid no
respect to the conventions : or rather, because he remained outside
this artificial and sophisticated art, which was not the true music
drama.

He began with incidental music ; then, in Promethe~e, which
approached nearer to the lyric drama, he used large choral forces,

2 Without Indulging in the pleasure of paradox, it can be stated as a fact that the
finest lyric dramas of the Modern French School are due to artists who have held
aloof from this competition, or who- like Debussy and M. Paul Dukas have renounced
as completely as possible the style and customs of the theatre.

47

Gabriel Faure

and even tragic actors (the Gods). In none of these accents was there
the augury of the success of Penelope.

The score of Caligula 1 - permitted only a small number of pieces
for orchestra alone : interludes and ballet music. The most important
part consisted of the Four Choruses for Female Voices, so rich in
that Faurien power of suggestion, whose nuances depend on imponder
ables. 2 Here there is no doubt of the period or the place the Rome
of the Decadence, Certainly, the charm is antique and pure, the
harmonies deiiciously sensual : " Winter flies away." But since it
would be out of place here the curves of the phrase have not the
sort of proud, Hellerac attractiveness of the canon, at the end of
the first Act of Penelope. An infallible and subtle taste guided
Faure in paths which, though similar, were sufficiently divergent for
the distinction to be perceptible to cultivated minds. The contrast
between " Heures guerrieres " and " Heures heureuses " is of the
same bas-empire, as well as the vocal antiphony of " De roses
vermeilles , . .", and particularly that fine invocation to voluptuous
ness with which the work ends : " Cesar a ferme sa paupiere . . ."
Intoxicating odours ; heavy, fleshly and majestic drunkenness of a
surfeit of pleasure civilisation debauched by luxury. From the
first Scene of Salome Richard Strauss, in his realistic manner, gives
us the uncomfortable mustmess of a corrupt society already nauseat
ing In this there is certainly a kind of genius ; but the music to
Caligula remains beautiful, and on a par with the beauty of antiquity.

Shylock is a free translation which we owe to the distinguished
talent of M. E. Haraucourt, and it is a matter for regret that it has
had to wait so long for a revival. It is impossible to put into words
the Venetian charm by which this score suggests, for the Madrigal,
the scenes of Carpaccio, homely or worldly and for the Serenade,,
the picture of elegant gondolas and delightful palaces of pink marble.
" Forbidden kisses, it is God who ordains them," sings this Serenade :
a profession of faith which seems to be Faure s, as it was Debussy s
to write what the " adorable Goddess " suggests and what if
there are crimes such as to call forth an official report from Harmony s
yillagjb policeman ! 3 As for the Nocturne for strings alone, it is
impossible to place this music, so profound and universally human
is it. The intense tenderness of night here revealed 4 was one of the
most beautiful incentives of Faure s inspiration, contrary to the general
opinion, which sees him by preference only the painter of clear, noon
day waters (an artist so diverse cannot be classified in this narrow and
precise fashion).

3 Written, it mil be remembered^ for the revival of Dumas play.

*Note the difference between the tone of some of the religious pieces, and that of
analogous secular works.

*This * statement " does not imply that Faure,, previously, had not been bound by
scholastic discipline ; and the fifths which he allowed himself were never acts of
petulant rebellion. The purity of style remains intact ; we shall refer to it again in
the chapter devoted to his technique But from the first it is necessary to avoid any
misunderstanding

*Cf. the similar pieces for piano, and the Nocturne on Vilhers de FIsle-Adarri*
poem ; also that fading twilight which opens the second Act of Penelope.

48

The Stage

Pelleas et Melisande, given in London in 1898, was accompanied
by incidental music conducted by the master. The Prologue is less
a " decor " than a state of mind ; that forest wherein Golaud discovers
Melisande appears to our understanding as a legendary atmosphere
a symbol of the sensitivity soon to be crystallised in the grief of
the young girl, mourning the enigmatic crown which the huntsman
descries across the water " which is not very deep." The second
theme voices this distress, and lasts until the curtain goes up to the
cries of Golaud. La Fileuse, with its two contrasting motifs, is like
a paraphrase of le Rouet d Omphale, of Saint-Saens, but more concise
and refined. However, you will not like it unless you can forget
for a moment the Melisande of Claude Debussy. In this episode
Faure s conception of the heroine is of someone much nearer to
ourselves ; we do not say " coquette," but there is a kind of juvenile
and almost malicious gaiety on which account no doubt his colleague
never appreciated this really charming interlude. 1 But with Faure,
despite his expressive depth and the subtle melancholy of his inter
pretations of Verlaine there remains a naivete, an ingenuousness, 2
which seems to have forsaken Debussy at about the time of his
Nocturnes. We will not dwell on the Sicilienne, which, though
delightful, was written for a later occasion, and is scarcely related
to the rest. The last piece (preceding the fifth Act) reveals a poignant
emotion quite different from that of the lyric drama, but not less
beautiful. The " Golaud " theme reappears, powerful, tragic ; the
dull, intense anguish of this Finale, so simply achieved^ attains an
extraordinary inner pathos.

In order to finish off the shorter works let us anticipate a little, and
deal with Masques et Bergamasques, posterior to Penelope. The
scenario, by M. Rene Fauchois, was inspired by Verlaine s Clair
de lime from whence the title was derived. To a number of Faure s
early works (Clair de lime, naturally ; the Madrigal, the Pavane, etc.)
incorporated into the action, were added some interludes written
later, and whose style is not without similarity to Mozart a new
departure for the composer. Of course, he had for long appreciated
at his true value the musician of Figaro ; but his inspiration (if not
his technique and his artistic principles) had usually remained fairly
remote. In Masques et Bergamasques on the contrary, the resemblance
extends to the nature of the ideas themselves, sometimes evep to
the harmonisation. A charming tribute to Cost fan tutte, which
however was not easy to bring off ; nothing less was needed than the
touch and mastery of Gabriel Faure.

Finally, before studying his two works for the theatre proper, we
must mention the incidental music which he wrote for Georges
Clemenceau s le Voile du bonheur. Doubtless it was not perfectly
suited to his character which, with the musician of Shylock and

l lt may be recalled here that the London orchestra was reduced to string quartet.
In performance at symphony concerts the excerpt loses something of its lightness by
reason of the considerable number of the strings.

*Cf. The Finale of the Second Violin Sonata. Accents of great innocence are also
to be found in some of the works of Debussy s adolescence,

1/^v!^ - s * If ) 49

Gabriel Faure

Caligula, was always the case. The score, however, for what reason
we know not, remains unpublished ; and since we have not been
able to hear it, we must be excused from devoting to it anything but
these too brief lines.

The circumstances which governed Promethee have already been
told. Being of a very special nature, they have deprived the public
of a real knowledge of this superb work. Those composers, few in
number, the fortunate elect who heard it at Beziers, must have been
able to realise that the Paris performances gave only a feeble idea
of its power and incomparable splendour. In the vast Hippodrome
a performance (with full orchestra) only threw into confusion sonorities
too loud for a confined space : it needed, most definitely, the open
air, which favours the full blast of great masses of brass, never confused,
never needlessly strident. Later, at the Opera (re-scored for the
occasion : but then, without the brilliance we would have desired)
the mise-en-scene of the first Act seemed illogical : while the Chorus
was singing of a joy more than human, and just as we were expecting
to see them flood-lit with brilliant lighting, a veil of material* was
interposed between the audience and pulsating Humanity acclaiming
the discovery of Fire. These veils were removed only towards the
end of the Act ; they quite spoiled the effect, and were contrary
both to the composer s ideas and to the real life of the work. And
all the rest suffered from the absence of the burning sunshine over
the Arena. To crown all, in the theatre the declamation of the text
seemed interminable. At Beziers, the fact that it was in the open
air kept people patient and in a good temper ; one made up one s
mind, for good or ill, to accept the traditional monotoning delivery. 2

In Promethee, the poets Jean Lorrain and M, A.-F. Herold made
an attempt to revive Greek tragedy. Speaking and singing were used
alternately ; the latter was reserved for the Chorus, also for all the
roles of the Gods. The conception was not lacking in grandeur, nor,
after all, in logic. Speech was limited to the human characters. They
spoke, no doubt, at rather too great length, and this error of balance
not an unusual fault makes the musical portions of the work
all the more appreciated. -

The drama opens with a Prelude of unusual power, constructed on
the " Prometheus " and " Fire " motifs. They are piles of Cyclopean
blocks ; but the soul of the Titans is transformed by the art of Apollo.
A sovereign Reason guides it. And already, is not this the pure
aesthetic of the Greeks ?

The Prelude leads without a break into the opening Chorus of the
first Act. The scene is rugged, wild, mountainous. Men and women
rush excitedly from all parts : " Eia, eia, hasten from the depths
of your caves ! " They are celebrating the arrival of the " mystery
bird," the bird of Fire. " It is about to take the air," cries one of
the Chorus, "*and it is thou, Promethee, whose glorious cry will rise

l Ught curtains, but through which the performers were seen as it were through a
mist. Even their voices were muffled.

*But it is a hindrance in these lines which, despite a certain " literaryness " are not
deveid of beauty a fault which Aeschylus, with his absolutely simple lyricism, never
committed.

50

The Stage

to greet it ! " This Chorus, vigorously rhythmical, with its repetitions
so essential to the nature of the work (an open air style, broadly painted)
this evocation of a primitive, prehistoric humanity, by the same
pen which sang the Verlaine melancholy, was so manifestly contrary
to Faure s customary usage that even some of his disciples (though
not those present at Beziers), did not understand it : " Too solemn,"
said one of them to me. 1 But there is not a single page that does not
reveal Gabriel Faure, whom by certain harmonies it is impossible
to mistake. He is here absolutely himself; more powerful, indeed,
than ever before moreover, with no pomposity, but with a fine
breadth of .touch, easy and free. Note particularly a number of
Passing Notes (on page 18, E Natural against E Flat ; page 19, G Flat
against G Natural) bordering on Bitonality, discreetly suggesting a
civilisation not yet fully developed. In the Bitterroise Arena, trium
phant, a challenge to Fire was made resplendent by the ringing voices
of the tenor Rousseliere. He unleashed the enthusiasms of youth
with an irresistible force, and in the whole Faurien output we know
of no more superb lyricism, wherein the refinement of unexpected
but appropriate modulations never excluded the use of older
techniques, such as the six-four (page 25, second line). And this is
the real boldness from which springs the true power, so convincing
on a single reading that one is astonished that the whole musical
world even yet has not recognised it, with affectionate but humble
respect.

The first Scene continues, in a more agitated rhythm, on the initial
Titan s Theme ..." Promethee is Power ! " And the Perfect
Cadence (page 29) proves in its turn that there are no such things as
obsolescent harmonies or progressions, but only two sorts of music :
that which grows old, and that whose spirit remains imperishable.
And what pure charm, always vigorous and noble, in the soaring
soprano solo : " Promethee is also Hope ! " Finally, the invocation
to the happy future concludes (over an energetic reference in the
bass to the Prometheus theme) on an unexpected chord, opening
on to untold horizons of mystery, in a species of religious terror
(page 40, 7th on G Natural, after the sparkling tonality of A Major).

The Titan enters. This scene is spoken, not sung. Enthusiastic
and boisterous, he shouts of the joy of his discovery. Just before the

*If we have insisted more than once during the course of this work on the foice of
Gabriel Faure, it is precisely because of that reputation of " musician charmant " to
which many of his critics, even among his friends, are in danger of confining him.
Camille Benoit compared him ** a tons les points de vue " with Grieg \ (Cf. the
quotations from M. ff. Imbert and M. O, Se re .} M. J. Poueigh, under the pseudonym
of Octave Se re (Musicien francais d"aujourd*hui) wrote the following lines on the
subject of Promethee : " One feels decidedly that Faure" *s muse fs as it were frightened
{sic) by so much shouting and by all this instrumental violence" And it was none
other than M. Emile Vuillermoz-> however lucid on other occasions, who could mistake
the profound Faurienism of this powerful tragedy : " He has put more of hi* soul into
Sok than in the whole of Promethee." (La Revue Illustree, 1st July, 1905). Such
also was the opinion of his most fervent admirers in the face of Penelope and the
Second Violin Sonata. It is rematkable., on the contrary \ how Faure has always
remained himself, his Muse growing naturally to the dimensions of his subjects. But
in order to discern this^ a previous initiation is necessary ; one must know the works
well, and not judge them too lightly,

51

Gabriel Faure

end of this monologue Pandora enters. " Plucking up courage, she
approaches Prometheus, and arrests him with a supplicating gesture." 1
The music is resumed : a theme of three notes (A, D, G in descending
5ths) accompanies Pandora s entrance. But her fear does not stop
the Harbinger s ardour. He climbs towards the rocks. Then arises
"a woman of austere countenance, draped in long veils. With
outstretched arm she tries to stop Prometheus." Gala, the Titan s
mother, reminds us of the ancient Erda of the Ring. Her. spacious,
solemn and moving admonition seems like the transposition into
Faurien terms of the prophecies of the original Goddess who appeared
to Wotan. But you will find ho reminiscence, nor the least inferiority
in the later work. This superb air, its harmonies inspired by maternal
anguish and imperious commands, need fear no comparison with
the best of Wagner. It seemed to me at once more concentrated,
more solid in development, fuller and richer.

Prometheus repulses Gala. He repulses Pandora. Encouraged by
the Chorus (here the beautiful expansion of the Prelude returns,
in counterpoint on the reappearance of the theme), the Titan goes
on his way. He climbs the hill, Reaching the summit, there is a flash
of lightning : " a branch brandished by Prometheus catches fire."
" Men, see the gift I promised* you. See the Fire ! " " Horror ! "
the people cry : Prometheus, thunderstruck by Zeus, is hurled down.
" Behind the rock have risen a God and Goddess of wild aspect,
Kratos and Bia. Between them is Hephaistos, the divine smith."
With a scornful and biting cruelty, they give in detail the particulars
of the rebel s punishment. Here comes again an extraordinarily
bare theme, followed by a menacing ascent in the bass. The scene,
very freely carried out following the evolutions of the script
nevertheless preserves a perfect unity. Kratos and Bia order
Hephaistos to lead away the silent Titan, and this first Act conies
to an end with the evocation of " whirlwinds of snow and sleeping
winters " wherein " Zeus desired the tortures of the indomitable
Prometheus to be confined."

At the beginning of the second Act there is a digression, but one
whose musical beauty is such that the interest does not flag for an
instant. Pandora is dead. A long procession of women and girls
accompanies her funeral, some carrying the body on a bier of leaves
and branches . . . Those who have not heard, in the Arena at
Beziers, the calm, heroic voice of the trumpets, far away, diffusing
their three notes into the serene air and the noble anguish -of the
harmony alternating with the tolling of the funeral bell, pure and
clear can have no conception of the evocative power of this scene.
And from the top of the rocks there winds a procession, a living
bas-relief, antique, pure while at the same time Chorus and Orchestra
uplift a great plaint of grief, of virginity of death, light and youth
all at once through which there flitted visions of the companions
of Artemis, chaste huntresses, flying headlong through the mountain
forests. Ode to the dead maiden, wherein Faure at times closely
approaches Euripedes, and which crowns an Olympian pleading :

l The words in inverted commas are taken from the librettists own directions.
52

The Stage

" Tu passais, royale et sacree . . ." (page 91) ; words are powerless
to describe its -divinely pagan beauty. Then the Chorus replies,
telling of the deathly darkness of Hades, " a country where lurks a
dumb people . . ." " Pandora is a tiny ghost and the ghost out
stretches her thin arms. Only the memory of Aede keeps her still
in the light." 1

" The women have hidden Pandora in a cave in the mountain.
They steal away across the rocks. Prometheus appears, on the top
of a very high boulder, between Kratos and Bia. Hephaistos is
with them, carrying chains, nails and a hammer." The ensuing scene
is the one where, against his will but obedient to the chief of the
Gods, Hephaistos finds himself compelled to chain the Titan, his
brother, to the rock of the Caucasus, where Zeus eagle is to come
pecking his liver perpetually regenerated. The invective of Bia and
Krastos truly withering contrasts with an air of the pitying brotherly
God, full of deep and noble compassion : " O sublime et bon Titanide "
(page 101). \VTiat restraint there is in this development the theatrical
accent, so inappropriate, completely banished ! 2 Then the Smith
sets to work and, to music of extreme bitterness, prepares the punish
ment ... " He is now chained." " And thou," replies Kratos,
" thou canst continue thy insolent cries. Weep, Prometheus weep
and wail."

Left alone, Prometheus gives vent to his sorrow (this is the admirably
lyrical Aeschylean invocation : " fither divin . . .") There is some
uncertainty in the next scenes, words being provided only for one air
sung by the cruel Bia. The intentions of the librettists i re not
sufficiently clear ; having caused Pandora to die (the pretext for the
fine funeral chorus, and which we cannot regret), she is restored to
life to satisfy the needs of the drama. And perhaps, dramatically,
a certain tediousness results, since Bia s air, striking though it be,
adds nothing to the force of the preceding scene. But Pandora has
reappeared at the threshold of the cave, swathed in her funeral robes,
she glances round her, hesitant. Brusquely, Bia stands up and stops
her with a gesture : " Go ! Zeus forbids thee to approach." The
Act ends with the lamentations (spoken) of Pandora.

The action is resumed from this poin in the third Act. The young
maiden calls upon the Oceanides : " Tell the Titan there is one who
still loves him that, in the night whose shroud your hands sweep
away, he is not alone." This, three times repeated, alternates with
spoken dialogue, wherein Pandora cries aloud her hope and
Prometheus his fears. The choruses are of gentle, feminine tone,
whose charm occasionally recalls the Faure of la Bonne Chanson
and other songs. However, after Pandora s restoration to life, if
* the composer is not to blame, nevertheless the work suffers a little
by being too fragmentary and episodic. The first Act formed a

-writer adds here a note to the effect that " the meaning of these somewhat
enigmatic words is rather obscure"

z This was not to the liking of the Bass singer responsible for this rdle : he wanted to
finish on an F Sharp, instead of the middle A Flat, so submissive ; so incapable of all
resistance, drawn out with an infinite sadness, If one has a fine voice > what a pity not
to reveal it !

53

Gabriel Faure

complete whole ; quite half of the second, also (Pandora s funeral,
the binding of Prometheus) showed a spacious and simple dramatic
conception. After which, by contrast, the interest is divided between
Pandora, Prometheus and the Oceanides ; musically, too, the effect
is somewhat dispersed by the number of separate pieces, of slighter
dimensions and which moreover are interrupted by spoken- dialogue
(thus, Interlude Bia s air conclusion of the second Act Prelude
to the third the three Oceanides Choruses and, finally, the dialogue,
sung, between Kratos and Bia). There is no doubt that all this
engendered a feeling of indecision, an impression of over-long
expectancy. 1 Given the structure of this drama on broad lines, with
the opposition of spoken word and song, these pages suifer by being
cut to a slighter pattern. As for the music, despite the pellucid charm
of the harmony, the threefold song of the Oceanides cannot be
compared with Pandora s funeral music ; and the adjoining scenes,
with Kratos and Bia, being not more prominent than the excellent
ones at the end of the first Act and in the middle of the second, actually
seem less so, by reason of the gradation which our* mind demands.
Very little is needed in the theatre to produce the impression of dragging
(especially when the musical portion has just been interrupted by
the spoken word). 2 And perhaps Faure, realising, with his unerring
taste, this fault in the larger design (even if he would not admit it),
had less enthusiasm for the composition of interludes which performance
would render less significant.

This is, however, merely an hypothesis ; and if some inequality
is in question it is only in comparison with the summits. It is clear
that it is relative ; none of this part is without charm or vigour.
However, from Scene VI in the third Act, the musician comes into
his own again, making a brilliant return. " At the very top of the
mountains Zeus and the Olympians appear. With them is Hermes,
holding a casket. Everyone rushes to the spot at the sound." Over
a tremendous roll on the kettle-drums, the " Gods " theme blazes
out on the brass. Here is absolute simplicity a canon at the 5th,
over the percussion, long sustained. Wherein lies its superhuman
grandeur? In the character of the theme itself, embodying such
a vital, dominating force ; in the part played by the bass note, 3 on
which the chord is built ; in the peroration which, modulating from
E Flat to C Minor* broadens still more ; in the change of interval
on the repeat of the canon (now become a canon at the 6th) ; in

J-It was more damaging in Paris than at Beziers, by reason (as explained above)
of the optimism,* the tranquillity, free from impatience, which performance in the
open air induces in the public.

*Wedo not say, too little action, // would sometimes be the opposite. Here it is
felt to be irresolute, disunited, superficial more theatrical than Aeschylus. It aspires*
to movement with Pandora s supplications, and by the double veto of the Gods. These
episodes perhaps harm each other ; a complete, Aeschylean simplicity would be more
suited to the flow of the music. It is, moreover, only the slightest dip between the
peaks. The remainder of this fine poem is fashioned on broad lines, and serves the
musician admirably,

*// produces a chord of the 6th on. the G of the drums ; much more spacious in its
vagueness than the immediate and clear-cut root position chord,
1 Giving a six-four over the G of the drums.

54

The Stage

the modulations, which animate the following Recit. (of Andros,
pp. 161-164) ... If this dry analysis gives no idea of the music,
neither does the score, at this point, suffice. But imagine the vast
sweep of the Arena (in the fading afternoon, the sounds of nature
dying away, the orchestra more and more impressive) filled with
the immense sonority of trombones overriding the thunder of the
drums the blaring brass mounting to heaven where one can visualise
the Olympians themselves, resplendent . . .

Prometheus counteracts the ruse (the casket Pandora is to receive
contains, as you will remember, all the evils which will spread over
the earth). But no one believes the Titan ; his prophecy* is in vain.
Pandora, with the fatal gift, descends towards the crowd. "The
grave Gods have smiled on us the way is clear where thou goest."
This is given to the chorus, in an ineffable phrase of youthful hope,
a phrase whose every harmonic inflexion deserves analysis, wherein
all is pure, grave and charming as in " The Temple of the Wingless
Victory." From here the work drives on to its conclusion in a
crescendo incorporating elements of the Prelude, amplified, and which
is developed in a majestic omnipotence to be compared only with
that of the last scene of Goiter dammenmg. And note that Faure
is not belittled by the comparison. No : this music of the Acropolis
fears the proximity of no mediaeval City, however gigantic. Here,
Zeus is as grand as Wotan. The inner robustness of these harmonies
has the compactness of marble which defies the ages. And the
Olympian order, the supreme logic of this essentially sensitive lyric
art, are clear and definite facts.

So, as splendid as it is well-proportioned, this work is one of the
finest in modern music we might say, in all music. The only causes
for regret are the longueurs at the end of the second act and in the
middle of the third, and the special open air conditions most decidedly
necessary for Promethee to shine with its complete brilliance ; thus
performances in an ordinary theatre are hindered from realising its
whole beauty. I know not if it will ever be performed under the
Hellenic sky ; it awaits it and cries out for it. 1 But on the day of
its revival at Beziers its splendour will be reborn, incomparable.

A considerable time separated the premiere of Promethee from that
of Penelope (1900-1913). But having lived with Aeschylus, the Titans
and the Gods, Faure could not forget Greece. It constantly inspired
him : in the very form, in the conception of his art. Thus la Chanson
d JSve, le Jardin clos, and the Second Violin Sonata bear the mark
of the Attic influence. Finally, there was Penelope. More than the
Iliad perhaps too persistently warlike (even though he has written,
I think, an admirable setting of the last chant, and though tfce prayers
of old Priam found in him the most sympathetic interpreter)~--the

l And why should it not be presented in the Greek theatre (^modelled on that of
Epidaurus) of Berkeley University, near San Francisco ? America s resources in
the matter of first-class orchestras and the possibility of producing great choral works
there make this wish less Utopian than it appears ; the chief obstacle is that the
reputation of Prom&hee (and of Faure generally) in foreign countries is not to be
compared with its value as a work of the first order.

55

Gabriel Faure

Odyssey tempted him. Besides, he had no desire to accentuate the
archaism ; what purpose would it serve ? Prehistoric times had
inspired sufficient of his pages for him to have no need to treat an
adventure of Homeric times in the style of M. Rochegrosse s violent
picture " la Prise de Troie." (After all, Penelope remains substantially
epic, and even brutal where necessary ; witness the end of the second
Act). But rather, let us say that, in the musical speech of our times,
a civilised artist, of the time of Pericles 1 tells us of the return of Ulysses.
Is the postulate admissible ? Yes ; the work being there to justify
it, and whose beauty, inwardly Greek, assumes the form of modern
harmony anfl melody, without the least disparity, in the most complete
unity of conception and style. He is not interested in erudite science
concerning the ancient Modes, nor cold architectural reconstruction ;
in short, there is no false primitive or artificial roughnesses, seeking
(as puerile as vain) a vigour which would, on the other hand, banish
charm. Faure remains, constantly and sincerely, himself; but at
bottom his inspiration is Greek in that he has drawn the most
faithful and human pictures of Penelope, Ulysses and the Suitors.
And his power is bound closely with that sincerity which makes the
work so vivid and profound. As already a sympathetic bond had
been established between his art and that of Athensfrom 1900, with
Promthee, and onwards the arrival at this new summit of musical
civilisation, Penelope, was natural and quite unforced.

The poem, by M. Rene Fauchois, does not pretend to be so literary
as that of Promethee. Ought one to complain of this ? And if so,
why ? It is clear, with no out-of-the-way words, broadly designed
and since it is the framework of this refined, strong and perfect music,
there is no need to regret the choice when a libretto less sparing
in incident, rich in poetic licence and precious in vocabulary might,
who knows? have done the composer a disservice. In the next
chapter an attempt will be made better to define this harmony between
Greece and Gabriel Faure ; it must suffice here to describe the drama

The exposition is entrusted to the first three Scenes. But first"
the Prelude has introduced, positively, heroically, the figures of
Ulysses and Penelope. Heroic indeed is the noble waiting, the sublime
fidelity of the wife in her invincible hope ; and likewise is the music
At the height of Penelope s exaltation appears the " Ulysses " motif
distantly at first of the same Doric simplicity which has already
been displayed m certain outHnes, almost linear, of Promethee. The
whole of the development is founded on these two themes

Scenes I, II and in. " An ante-room to Penelope s "chamber
As the curtain goes up her maids are discovered, spinning Some
weary, have let fall their spindles. They yawn and stretch themselves
and move to lift their drapery in the background. Then one becomes
aware of the blazing sun."* The Chorus explains the situation
Ulysses, gone these twenty years ; the Suitors gradually invading

vUek brinss to ur minds Claude Debussy ~ s

are take "> with nor alterations

56

The Stage

his house ; Penelope tirelessly faithful. And the serving-maids
protest that, in their mistress s place anyone else would have given
way. Enter the Suitors, brushing aside the drapery. They insist
on seeing the Queen, who is cloistered in the adjoining room. A
lively altercation follows, for the aged Euryclee opposes their demand.

Scene IV. Penelope appears, at the top of the steps. Everyone
moves back. She proclaims her hope : the Gods will protect Ulysses ;
if Zeus decides so, he will return this evening, even. The Suitors
give a cynical contradiction ; for them, the exile will never return.
However, they are uneasy ; the shroud intended for old Laertes, the
warrior s father, which the Queen promised to weave before choosing
a new husband what a long time it has been on the loom ; why is
it not finished? Discreetly, she avoids the question. But, says
Eurymaque : " From now on you will work under our supervision."
At thiszpoint (at a sign from Eurymachus) flute players and dancers
come on the stage, while the intruders crowd round Penelope. In
despair, she launches a last appeal : " Ulysses, faithful husband . . .
come . . . relieve my distress ! " And then from without comes a
voice in reply. It is Ulysses, disguised as a beggar, old and un
recognisable. He seeks hospitality for the night. He is welcomed,
despite the hostile Suitors. Arm in arm with those servants amenable
to their desires, they go off. Man and wife remain together : a
certain vague presentiment remains unclarified ; she does not recognise
him, and confides him to the care of the old nurse. Taking advantage
of her solitude, Penelope has unfolded Laertes shroud ; she proceeds
to undo the work she has done during the day, as she has done every
night before. But the Princes are spying on her ; she is discovered,
and this time they decree : " To-morrow, she must choose one or
the other. There must be no more delay." The last night has
come . . , Once more, still hopeful, Penelope decides to climb the
hill commanding a view of the sea, eager for the appearance of the
vessel so long expected ! Her guest, returning with Eurycleia, requests
to accompany them. "... Take my cloak, old man ; the night
is cool." " Merci ! . . . Tu viens . . . Je vous suis." So ends
the first Act.

For this suite of diverse Scenes, unified by one dominant idea the
return of Ulysses Faure has written music of astonishing pliancy,
suppleness and truthfulness. We Have seen how, in his simpler
settings for voice and piano, he succeeded in preserving the unity
of the rhythm and an impeccable steadiness of form, with emphasis
where necessary on particular words ; the same is apparent in all
these changing scenes. To the charming music of the flute, players
Penelope adds her plea : " Ulysses, fier epoux ..." And here, in
this extended prayer, the warrior s theme, stealing in in the rhythm
of the dance, becomes more and more prominent, and finally blazes
out in Penelope s cry, " Help my distress 1 "

To the imperious and harsh Suitors theme, its asperity intensified
by harmonies resulting from the imitations, is contrasted the weariness
of Ulysses where, in certain chords and melodic inflections, can
be detected the shadow of that subtlety and cunning which had baffled
the Cyclops. Penelope s accents have a matchless nobility, regal

57

Gabriel Faure

with an affectionate ardour 1 never surpassed even in la Bonne Chanson.
In the meantime there are episodes such as he only could conceive :
the dances, precise, and gracefully supple ; the grave mystery of
Penelope s warning, " Les Dieux Ouraniens prennent tous les visages " ;
the passionate monologue when Ulysses, alone for an instant, declaims
ringingly, " Epouse cherie , . ." ; finally, the marvellous canon with
which the Act closes, its double line unfolding with the perfection
of a Greek bas-relief.

Second Act. Few Scenes simple and spacious but whose intense
emotion gives them a rare intensity of life. An eminence overlooks
the sea. At the rise of the curtain, in the still moonlight, a nocturne
is heard : a dialogue between Eumaeus and a shepherd, over an
orchestral background of serene melancholy, the harmony ceaselessly
coiling and uncoiling ("neither wholly itself, nor wholly anything
else," Verlaine would have said). Can we not say that Faure himself,
one evening on the shores of his beloved Mediterranean, experienced
this antique pastoral, among the green oaks of the mountains, their
Yirgilian shadows lengthening in the sunset? . . . Enter Penelope,
followed by Euryclee ; Ulysses is with them. She recalls memories
dreams of former times, when her husband was young and still with
her. There is a long Duet with the " aged stranger " ; and each
rivals the other in prudence and discretion. The Queen questions
him, still mistrustful : ** For all around me is so much deceit, that
I can trust no one at first sight." Ulysses, fertile improvisor that
he is, soon concocts a story : the warrior has lived under his roof,
in Crete, for twelve days. To prove his tale, he describes minutely
the appearance, the dress, the armour of the hero ; and, carried
away by his own romancing, his tears fall . . . But his wife is
uneasy : has Ulysses -remained faithful? He has not fallen a prey
to the seductions of some stranger ? And here, in the heat of his
reply, the wily Ulysses, the " fertile inventor," forgets his role : " Could
he, whose heart has been intoxicated by thy voice, yield to the charm
of any other wine ? "... he had " one desire only, in all that terrible
exile ; to feel thee swooning once more in his happy arms ! " It is
impossible to describe the expressive force the music attains in this
long, pathetic and sustained development depicting the memories,
the future hope, which move the hero. What does it matter that
the unseeing, the devotees of some kind of veristic dream, consider
this not " theatre," even though it all breathes an indescribable ardour ?
And, if others, the Wagnerites, have denounced the presence of a
technique dear to the composer of Tristan (that of leit-motifs), that
merely proves the technique open to all, for there is no question that
it has produced music both living and personal. That of Faure,
here particularly, is of the highest order ; in perfection of writing,
with a supreme control by which the feeling is never constrained
is, indeed, by the harmonious form, rendered still more intense^

Penelope is astonished: "Comme tu dis cela . . . Comme tu
dis cela ! " . . . Ulysses almost discloses his identity, but recovers
himself. While Eumaeus re-enters, he proposes a strategem to his

1 Cf, page 52, **/*#/ tant d* amour a lui donner encore. . ."
58

The Stage

wife : " Give yourself only to him who can bend the Bow of Ulysses "
knowing full well that Ulysses alone has the strength ; in his hands
the weapon will consummate his vengeance. Penelope, almost in
despair, re-enters the palace. Left alone, Ulysses calls Eumaeus and
the shepherds. " Behold the most to be pitied of mortals ... I am
Ulysses, your King ! " He implores their help ; and following this,
sure of victory, surrounded by partisans who will give their aid in
slaying the infamous wretches, his theme, triumphal, bursts forth
in the orchestra, in bold relief and with extraordinary conciseness
a brilliant triple canon mingled with the clashing of swords, with
harmonies cruel, savage but logical, analysable and, in spite of all,
classical . . . One thinks of the Iliad. And this pitiless victory
makes a picture all the more striking in contrast to the serene ending
of the first Act, the Nocturne in the second, and the tenderness of
the incomparable Duet.

Third Act. Scene I. An Aria (Ulysses), impetuous, violent, dark
with threats and inflamed with anger. A thundering transition, in
three chords, from G Flat Minor to D Minor, sets squarely before
us the heroic figure of Hercules, whose colossal sword Ulysses has
recognised among his armour. He hides it under the throne whereon
Penelope will sit. Scene II. The aged Eurycleia tells her master 1
of the Queen s distress. He reassures her. The strategem of the
Bow will make him victorious. " And to-night you will see Penelope
smile." (Here an unexpected modulation, extremely simple, a sudden
shaft of light, felicitous, charming and noble such as the master
possessed the secret of !). Scene III. Eumaeus, rejoicing, announces
to the King that all is as he wished. By a lucky chance the shepherds
will be there, gathered for a sacrifice ordered by the Intruders :
" Thirteen sheep, twenty cows and a hundred heifers." Scene IV.
Entry of the Suitors. They summon Penelope to make her choice.
" Which of you can bend the Bow of Ulysses . . . shall remain in
the palace," she replies. But then, struck by a strange presentiment,
she implores them to renounce it. " Death is here ... I see these
walls covered in blood and reeking entrails. The warrior returns,
he is already near . . ," The prophecy is in vain ; it seems to the
sceptics only a ruse. Each tries to bend the Bow. Each gives it up,
powerless (extraordinary music, imitative, or .rather suggestive, of
this abortive effort). In his turn, Ulysses, still disguised as an old man,
wishes to have a try ; all consent, with -contemptuous raillery.
Stupefaction : " He has bent the Bow the arrow has gone through
the rings ! 2 He bends the Bow again ; aiming at Eurymachus, " And
this time, you are the target ! " The rival falls. His vanquisher
now throws off all disguise ; he straightens himself, terrible of aspect.
The Suitors flee in terror. From then on it is a massacre. Ulysses,
Eumaeus and the shepherds throw themselves in pursuit of the
fugitives ; not one of them escapes. Re-enter the King, avenged :
"Justice is done." And the work ends with a triumphal chorus
acclaiming the happiness of the reunited couple.

1 Whom she has recognised since the first Act.

*The trial of skill was not only to bend the bow, but to send the arrow through
** twelve rings of axes." 1 (Jr.)

59

Gabriel Faure

In this drama, with that creative intuition which gives precise life
to the decor, the words, the action, the spirit, flagging not for an
instant with its constant richness and true variety Gabriel Faure
proclaims himself verily a musician of the theatre. And that with
no concessions, and by no elaborate devices, and by the most beautiful
symphonic style ; thus showing the absurdity of that old nonsense
of " water-right compartments " in the palace of Music. In like
manner the excuses which patched-up and tasteless works would like
to put forward the pretended " necessities of the drama," the scenic
effects, to cover up the " bad places in the music " also disappear.
But the theatre is a bad place only for those resigned to its decline.
It was a bad place for Penelope no more than for Pelleas et Melisande.
It is true, this masterpiece of Faure has not had the success of Madame
Butterfly. Even at the outset, while it found some ardent supporters,
and although at the first performances the public was clearly favourable,
a number of composers found some " harshness " in the score which
surprised them quite in keeping with their preference for the first
volume of songs. Always this inability to follow an evolution !
And the virile force, and sometimes the Doricism of this language
disconcerted them. To-day the cause of this is realised : the pro
fessionals definitely understand ; in company with them, a select
few of the public have gradually added some fervent enthusiasts to
their number. If Faure s art, no doubt, will never be popular with
the musically uncultivated masses, in compensation one finds even
in the most modest seats (and perhaps particularly there) in the
gallery which decided the success of Pelleas fanatics confessing
their love ; Penelope has charmed them, just as they will take care
never to miss a revival of Pelleas, and can savour all the merits of
Ariane et Barbe-Bleue. In Paris among the less well-off there exists
a number of true artists, driven into prosaic careers by the necessities
of existence ; but no matter they understand and love beautiful
things ; and by supporting them, form a good part of the conditions
necessary for their survival. So Penelope from time to time reappears
on the bills : less often than one would wish but enough for its
memory to be preserved, and for succeeding generations to be nourished
by this " body-building marrow "... The part of the heroine was
created 1 by Mme. Lucienne Breval ; she proved more Queen than
wife, notably in the last Act, when the action seemed a bit slow.
Recently, at the Opefra-Comique, there have been Mme. Balguerie,
with her dramatic intelligence and her superb voice, and then
Mme. Croiza, displaying a great and indescribable emotion : more
over, one of the most profound interpreters of Faurien song.

These pages bring to an end the chapter devoted to the master s
works. If it has kindled the desire to approach his compositions
more closely, the volume will be not without value. But to complete
it and perhaps the most important part is yet to come we must
embark on a general study of his language, his sensitivity and the
characteristics of his art.

V/i the part of Ulysses^ M* Muratore was of the first order.

60

The Man And His Style

IF WE WOULD analyse precisely Fame s technique, some technical
terms are unavoidable. We use them with apologies, and will make
them as few as possible.

A general survey is given by the following quotations :

" The tonality, harmony, rhythm, form, are those which Gabriel
Faure found at the beginning of his musical career ; in his hands,
these ordinary things have become precious." 1

" What, between ourselves, were the discreet and isolated temerities
of Printemps .which so scandalised the Institute, or of the Pavane
pour une Infante defunte, compared with the methodical, rational
and irrevocable liberation of Faure s style, his profound and essential
novelty, his conscious and organised enfranchisement ? 2 . , . For,
make ro mistake, Faure was no mere forerunner, a pioneer whose
tracks were broadened by explorers better equipped. He was a
musician who, a quarter of a century before the rest, spoke freely a
prophetic language with an ease, virtuosity and elegance never
surpassed." 3

These verdicts supplement and balance each other. And the
example of Faure leads to this conclusion : that novelty can be
achieved by quite ordinary means. The unexpectedness of a con
glomeration of sounds in the main amounts to very little, even if the
snobs and the simpletons marvel at it for a time ; moreover, it quickly
disappears, ousted by the inevitable counter-fashions. The only
element of value in a work is the quality of its music and its thought.
The creation of new sounds may be necessary to some geniuses ; 4
in their case, they will not become obsolete. But others show them
selves more subtly revolutionary. Persuasive, and without iconoclasm,
they are no less innovators ; and such a one was Gabriel Faure.

Reflecting on this question of living harmonic language, one realises
that the isolated chord is but one, rather accessory, element. It is
the chord progression., and the way in which this is brought about,
and particularly its relation to "the melody, to the evolution of the
phrase and to the gradations of feeling, which is fundamental. The
art of music, offering such a prodigious wealth of material, permits
of innumerable combinations with the help of none but well known
harmonies. As in chemistry the atoms can group themselves in
thousands of ways, so successions of chord-cells 5 can form a discourse

Boulanger, article on Faures religious music^ Revue musicale, October^
1922.

Z E. VuittermoZy " Gabriel Faure" Revue musicale, October, 1922.
^Extract from the same article.

- *So much the better , since they enrich the domain of music,
* Common chords, or Iths.

61

Gabriel Faure

that Is admirable and sublime or dull, banal and devoid of real
existence. The analysis of the elements has little interest ; it is a
question, on the contrary, of the life of chords in succession}- Merely
by concordant writing, Faure is continually innovating ; and more
so by the use of simple 7ths than ever M. H. Duparc achieved in
I* Invitation au Voyage.

What is most striking, first of all, is that feeling for plainchant
which has been manifest since his youth. We have mentioned all
that he owed to the teaching at FEcole Niedermeyer, to the days when
Samt-Saens, himself perhaps influenced by the composer of le Lac
and his ideas on the accompaniment of the liturgical melodies, was
already turning towards the ancient Modes. This was new ; for
the composers of the XVIIIth Century and the first half of the XlXth
had forgotten the scales in use at the time of the Renaissance 2 This
very marked preference of Faure shows itself in the employment of
certain of the Gregorian Modes. 3 We have noted it more than once :
in the Requiem , in les Roses d* Ispahan (II n est plus de parfum . . .") ;
and, most expressive, in that fine song, Au Cimetiere (" A sa croix
les parents pleurant . . .") 4 It is impossible to overestimate the
importance of this. As we have pointed out, there is no question
of learned and artificial reconstruction, but of a predetermined
correspondence between the character of these scales and, most often,
Faure s very nature It is not by chance that the character of the
Aeolian (A Minor with G natural and F natural), firm and virile,
was preferred by the Greeks, or that they showed a marked antipathy
for " notes sensibles " whose expression seemed to them too restricted,
too emphatic, one might say too romantic* The leading note lowered
to G natural in the key of A Minor, or suppressed in the Major Mode, 6
is often the precise inflection necessary to his thought. However, it
must not be regarded as a formula ; he himself wrote with the utmost
freedom, reserving the right to pass from one mode to another : to
use real leading notes as it pleased him and most characteristically
in certain passages whose nicety of execution demanded a sharpening
of the Major Third on the Dominant to the Pythagorian Third. 7

In the case of this great musician, a good deal of harmony is derived
from this Gregorian conception. It would take too long to go into

^Progressions and modulations.

*With some rare exceptions, eg., the Andante of Beethoven s fifteenth Quartet \ in
the Lydian Mode ; a few passages in Berlioz and Gounod , and also a certain archaic
colour* occasionally, in Herolds" 1 le Pre-aux-Qercs.

z Especially those on A, G, D and E which are also those of the old folk-songs of
our own country (see the transcriptions of Bourgault-Ducoudray^ M. Emmanuel,
Vincent d^Indy, etc.

*To mention three works only^ among many others

8 " Note sensible *" the Leading Note , i e , a semitone below the tonic (7>.)

6 This will be dealt with later. There is also the leading note suppressed in the Minor,
as at the end o/PInscnption sur le sable (from Jardin clos )

The Major Third in just intonation is defined by the ratio 5 . 4 , the Pythagorian
Third, formed by successive fifths CGD AE> is characterised by the ratio
21 16. Its nature is essentially melodic , but certain chords, from the quality of
their expression (and following the sense of the phrase) demand it. Good instrumen
talists are not deceived by it,

62

The Man And His Style

detail ; l but it can be taken that a number of progressions dear ^to
Faure, and forbidden by the harmony books, are compatible with
the character of plain-chant. 2 Even the use of the common chord
on the third of the scale, which Reber 3 held to be " non-existent "
or dangerous, is charming and therefore legitimate in the Serenade
from Shylock, in le Secret, in le Pays des Reves, etc. The Faurien
enlargement of the Plagal feeling (that is to say, Cadences with the
chord on the fourth degree, Fa la doh, leading to that of the Tonic,
Doh mi soh, is seen in his well-known Cadence :

And this remains Gregorian in feeling since an ordinary cadence, .
a dominant chord (E, G Sharp, B) before the chord of A, would use
a G Sharp (proceeding to the tonic A) in place of the succession
G Natural A of the above example (notes belonging to the Aeolian
scale on A). Finally, this Plagal sense, evinced by a desire to avoid
an ending involving the semitonal leading-note, extends even to
harmonies over a Dominant bass preceding the final Tonic chord.
So we find a chord of the seventh or ninth with the third replaced
by the fourth, thus :

or

The Cadence thus acquires a remarkable quietude. In our days
this is well established ; but not to resolve such a discord must have
appeared scandalous in the far-off days when Faure dared this boldness
for the first time. 4

l See the writer s tude sur Tharmonie moderae, in TEncyclopedie de la musique,
published by Delagrave (second part, Vol. 1).

*//? C * chord of E fallowing a chord ofF ; chord ofD preceded or followed by that
ofE ; chord of G moving to chord of F, with B-C in the top part (C/. Oair de lune,
in DFlat : " au calme clair de lune, triste et beau. . ."

*Reber (1807-80). From 1851 Professor *of Harmony, from 1862 Professor of
Composition, at the Paris Conservatoire. His TraitS d Harmonie was published in
1862. Koechlin would seem to be wrong on a matter of fact here ; Reber s observa
tions concern the third degree of the Minor scale. His actual words are Pro
visionally this chord {i.e., the Augmented Triad) will be considered as impracticable
or non-existent "a cautious attitude which every teacher of elementary harmony
would adopt. (Tr.)

* Nevertheless logical and even conforming to tradition, if we extend the field of the
" exceptional resolution" wherein the discordant note remains as a note of the next
chord (e.g., a Dominant 1th on G followed by a first Inversion on A).

63

Gabriel Faure

So that, while remaining a purist, 1 he could seem dangerous to narrow-
minded professors. After all, who was there, in the decade 1875-85,
willing to recognise Gregorian tendencies ? Gounod, Saint-Saens,
Lalo, Chabrier, Franck (also his disciples, Duparc, Vincent d Indy,
etc.), and on the other hand, the liberal Bourgault-Ducoudray, so
enthusiastic over the Greek modes. Perhaps also Massenet, possessed
of greater breadth of view than his colleagues (cf. certain chords
in the Saint-Sulpice Act, of Manori). But the rest to begin with
Debussy (before he heard Palestrina and Orlando di Lassus, in Rome)
their culture was firmly based on leading-notes and the Dominant 7th.

With Faure the result was never that the sense of tonality became
vague. If he achieved " vagueness " it was with precision, and knowing
perfectly well the direction of the phrase. If this at times seemed
to lose itself in mysterious undergrowth, the compass directions were
never ignored. But the tonality, if clear-cut, was sometimes established
very rapidly, and often transitorily as we see in the XVTth century,
favoured by the use of the old Modes which permit great suppleness
of modulation. 2 We note, too, subtle false relations, bold, but logical
to the ear such as we find in many a Bach Chorale, or in the Fugue,
for string quartet, by M ozart. In this connection see the Offertoire
from the Requiem (page 18, 1st and 2nd lines).

Faur s harmonic style includes a large number of progressions
little known before his time. In general, he discovered them ; some
times he made them his own by a treatment so appropriate to the
feeling and so felicitous, that they became personal to him. The
elements, apart from common chords, are scarcely more than different
kinds of 7ths, sometimes of 9ths, with few complicated " alterations,"
he leaves those to the mediocre imitators of Tristan? The Augmented
Fifth is quite frequent, but diatonic : 4 the chord on the third degree
of the Minor Scale, inexplicably forbidden by the harmony books,
though already used by Bach and Rameau. Appoggiaturas but
always without affectation, and in an admirably natural context
aim at underlining the expression. We must also remark 6*n his

1 We shall presently go into this question of purity in writing, as opposed to the
scholastic precepts of the harmony treatises. It is not easy, without actually hearing
the music and without considerable development {beyond the scope of this book) to
explain the possibility of a style really pure, which nevertheless is full of licences from
the point of view of the kt rules" But in a word, it can be said that the text-book rules 9
valuable in the academy ; are most conventional ; that the best musical stylists are
constantly infringing them ; in fact, they are neither sufficient, nor necessary. More
over, the boldest revolutionaries, with very few exceptions, have begun by submitting
to their discipline.

*And Faure^s Gregorian education, we may be sure, developed in him that faculty
of slipping gracefully and subtly from one key to another. Traces of this can be found
as far back &$ la Bonne Chanson. Sometimes too the modulation is only apparent ;
thus, at the beginning of the fourth Chorus of Caligula, the D Flat does not contradict
the key ofE Flat : it is really the Mixolydian Scale (key of G Major with F Natural
for the seventh note,}

* Some refined ** alterations " are, however, to be found in Sok ; the principle is based
on the Dominant 1th with the Diminished 5th. (In French text-books ** les alterations "
designate any chromatic inflections of the notes of a chord. 7>.)

*That is to say, it is never, save for some rare exceptions, derived from the Whole
Tone Scale.

64

The Man And His Style

deliberate use of Inversions ; in particular he removed the absurd
suspicion which weighed upon the Second Inversion. At the time when
Reber s treatise specified them as " rare," Faure was already using
them. 1 .

In the handling of this technique, licences from the standpoint
of the scholastic rules were numerous. Certainly, during his studies
at Fficole, he submitted to the accepted discipline, without which
no one can acquire mastery. His style may be free but, on the other
hand, one can think of no greater purity. But do not compare the
precepts of harmony books and grammars ; the tradition of the
most illustrious and most truly pure masters (notably Bach and Mozart)
is to infringe on each page, almost on each line, the " laws ** relating
to direct 5ths and 8ves, false relations, etc. With Gabriel Faure
had become legitimate, and henceforward classic, the following
licences : 7ths prepared or resolved by transference ; unprepared
7ths (even on the 1st and 4th degrees of the scale, i.e., Major 7ths) ;
a rising bass, in a chord of the Tritone or the 2nd ; chromatic false
relations ; appoggiaturas irregularly resolved, etc. As for the
" exceptional resolutions " in le Ruisseau, the Requiem^ Madrigal,
you will find them charming ; Nell, les Roses d* Ispahan, la Fee aux
Chansons, la Rose, and a great many other songs, show many essentially
Faurien traits which have passed into current language. 2 In all this,
Faure s role as forerunner is clear as defined so well by M. Emile
Vuillermoz. Any more considerable development of the question
would be in place only in a harmony treatise ; we must confine
ourselves to a few questions from his works. (See following page.)

Although he achieved a homogeneous synthesis of all musical
technique, it is necessary for the purpose of analysis to divide our
studies : after Harmony, Counterpoint. This is admirably balanced
in character, with marked independence (after the style of Bach),
in absolute respect for the harmony (that is to say, the quality of the
aggregation of sounds simultaneously perceived by the ear). As an
organist, a pupil of Saint-Saens and a fervent admirer of John
Sebastian, he would naturally be inspired by the technique of the
great Cantor. Notice already, towards the end of the Offertoire,
the broad and smooth working out of the three-part canon, " O
Domine." The logical movement of parts is found again, with a
boldness even more Bach-like, in la Bonne Chanson (cf. Une Sainte
en son aureole, 16th and 17th bars) ; in several bars of Mandoline ;
in Promethee (the Prelude, chorus, and scene with Bia and Kratos,
from the first Act ; Pandora s funeral procession, etc.). At about
the time of the Requiem (1888) a few musicians had revived the style

*Or, in any case, very soon after this time. *

*The consecutive Iths in au Bord de 1 eaii are carried out with infinite grace ; their
audacity remains unnoticed, but in their day it was great. Prison contains two con
secutive 9ths : but Faure has expressly stated that, to his ear this actual "parallel
implies a crossing of the inner parts, with contrary motion chancing to correct what
perhaps he thought was of too free and "facile " a style. This, moreover was before
Pellas, but after Chabrier s le Roi malgn lui (1886-7), in which can be found an
admirably clear example of a similar progression (Duet between Alexina and Henn
de Valois). Later (cf. Prelude in F) Faure wrote parallel progressions without scruple.

Gabriel Faure

Echar^ent des pro-pos fa - des sous les ra - mu

_-r *z=^i -zmzN _ _

(a) Unprepared 7th.

" Mandoline "

Par de - 1& 1 heure hu - maine et le temps in - ti - ni

;

n
TJ

Chromatic false relation.

" Le Parfum
Imp^rissable."

1

=3=

Exceptional resolutions.

(a) Eising bass in chord of the Tritone.

"Arpege"

66

The Man And His Style

Moi, ma nuit au som-bre voi le

j j b_

m

T

Exceptional resolution.

-p-

T

r

" Nocturne n

Lu

ne triste, et beau

irmcfc

Ped.
False relation of the Tritone.

1 ES*- =C

"ClairdeLune 1 *

dans le sable ou la pous - sifc - re

\-X-G _^ j^ _^.. ..^ s ^, S{ ! , , , j

a

\ 1 :

*"! ^n. * i m ") P*

^_ r ^

i r ~] *A

i* m~ -5-

^ , -L. 4 1 s ,

-* * r

Irregular resolution.

""

Chanson

67

Gabriel Faure

of Bach, Saint-Saens, and particularly Bizet (cf. TArlesienne, and
Carmen, with their bold clashes). In this matter then, you may say
that Faure was not absolutely a pioneer, though much in advance
of the greater part of his contemporaries. But apart from the
personal flavour of his contrapuntal harmony his bold passing-notes
were brought about with a marvellous feeling for fulness and harmonic
quality ; a rare feat which demanded a remarkable taste. 1 And,
as with Bach and Mozart, the success is most particularly notable
when the theme is in the lower part. Then the difficulty is immensely
increased, since this lower part, though predetermined, must always
make a good bass. Faure enjoyed such a constraint ; indeed, it only
stimulated his imagination. But with him because counterpoint
was never an obstacle to his perfect musicianship the Bass was of
prime importance. And here a word to pianists : he never ceased
to advocate this necessary support, too often neglected by virtuosi
to the point of leaving in rnid-air, suspended in the void, a melody
thus deprived of all harmonic sense.

The fugal style was never distasteful to him. He had never the
narrow-mindedness which condemns a tradition as being scholastic.
He restored to life these methods of former times. Re-read the
Requiem, Dolly, the second Violin Sonata, for smoothly-worked
canons ; and particularly, in Penelope, the last page of the first Act,
as well as the thundering imitations (on the Ulysses theme) at the end
of the second. 2 The fugal entries, or rather free imitations (the
Suitors theme, in Penelope; the second subject of the first Piano
Quartet ; , the passage for strings only, in the second Quintet ; etc.)
will completely convince you that he was right. Over-intellectual he
was never ; what was allowable in this style becomes over-intellectual
only to those incapable of realising its sensitive beauty.

To return to the realm of harmony, with the study of his Modula
tions. They aroused the critics. Lenepveu could not stomach the
progression, so beautiful and expressive, and so essential, by which
the primary key is reached at the cadence of the first phrase of le
Parfum imperissable. Another professor could not understand, and
has never understood ; it is too late now for him ever to understand.
Besides, * one only grasps the sense of these subtle transitions by
musicianship and deep feeling. The logic of an elementary analysis,
and even the logic of the practice of the eighteenth century " classics,"
are here seen to be quite erroneous. Thus, in Nell : being in a key

Respite the theoretical independence of the parts, they were never forced into
unnecessary dissonance, nor poor or platitudinous harmony ; horizontal movement
could never forget vertical.

*One could quote many other examples, notably the Adagio from the first Quintet 9
the Fantaisie^or Piano and Orchestra, the later Nocturnes, etc. The use of" echap-
pees" and especially ascending retardations, furnished the occasions for all kinds of
new effects, often very daring, the clashes very dissonant but always apposite and to
the point. (An anticipation is already seen in the syncopated counterpoint in the First
Nocturne, at the return of the initial theme}. This study is most fascinating for the
student ; it is naturally beyond the scope of this work.

Note. * 4 Echappee an irregular resolution of Passing Notes. Most of the ex
amples quoted in Reber are either elisions, or developments of the Nota Cambiata
formula. (7>.)

68

The Man And His Style

(D Flat) nearly related to the main key (G Flat), before the return
to this key why not a modulation to F Major, this giving oneself
the pleasure of an unexpected, but throughly musical, reappearance ?
A parallel " illogicality " (though profoundly logical) appears at the
end of the Tenor Aria in the first Act of Promethee : in order to
finish in C already reached he plunges into F, on a 6/4 chord ;
the incomparable brilliancy of the peroration being due to*the return
to the preceding, but almost forgotten, tonality. One could easily
multiply these examples ; we will mention only the final cadence of
Puisque Vaube grandit (la Bonne Chanson). Try setting the words,
" Je ne veux pas d autre paradis " with a progression which does
not modulate, and see the result ! The sense demands this paradoxical,
but necessary and exact " fancy " : the supple, ingenuous, translucent
modulation from F to G Major. Thus, the relationship of keys
springs from a legitimate cause, expressive and musical : it is the
very essence of the idea, and never empty trifling with ingenious
scintillation, as it were " shot silk," as was thought by those who
have never grasped the logic of this art. As for its realisation, it is
matchlessly easy and assured. 1 The simplicity of his methods should
be noted, preserving the excellent naivete of writing that he loved.
Thus, at the end of C est Fextase, a perfect cadence brings to a close
this exquisite and profound song ; in Promethee, he is not afraid
of the obsolescent (?) 6/4, to be found also at the conclusion of the
first song in la Bonne Chanson ( Une Sainte en son aureole). We shall
return later to the question of Faure s simplicity ; refinement does
not prevent simplicity, and simplicity is no bar to refinement.

As for the question of Form, this seems too complex to study
without even reading the music. The general plan (ternary) conforms
to. that of the Allegro movements of Beethoven and Mozart. The
function of the Sequence is not despised ; 2 an old technique which,
however, he took care not to turn into a " Rosalia." Sometimes
the tonality will be found established over long periods, with no
modulation ; then, the fundamental bars first heard will be repeated
at the 2nd or 3rd. 3 This modulatory life keeps up the interest with
rich and compact harmonies ; the symmetry remains supple ordered,
but obeying no merely geometrical instinct. The same suppleness is
found in Concertante style, with the diflferent parts answering each
other. Re-read, too (cf. the Chapter on the Chamber Music) the
quotations from our worthy colleague M. Vuillermoz ; there is no
one better calculated to make clear the, independence the composer
could preserve in the traditional framework he imposed on himself.

Finally, touching the instrumentation, we have already remarked
on its principal characteristics. Moreover, Dotty was scored by

*/* would be too long and technical to study all his methods. We must, however ,
mention the use of "pivot chords" that is to say, a modulation produced by the
ambiguity of one chord belonging to two different keys (usually a common chord or
6tK). The Supertonic 1th is also a great resource, as often with Bizet (in quite a differ
ent sense) : it leads with the utmost precision to the Dominant chord, or one of its
inversions (cf. Prelude to P^lleas et M61isande).

*And particularly in his later works, in which many periods of 2 and 4 bars are thus
repeated. Their beauty permits of such repetitions impossible with mediocre ideas.

*Cf. the first Chorus of ?roin&tt*6e : "Eiaeia. . . ."

69

Gabriel Faure

M. Rabaud ; it is not certain that the orchestral version of Caligula
was by Faure ; Pelleas et Melisande was confided to the present
writer ; Promethee to the Director of Music, M. Eustace ; Penelope
in part (to all appearances) to one of his friends whether M. d Indy
or M. Paul Dukas I know not, and the secret has "been well kept.
Sometimes his doublings of Strings and Wood-wind go some way
towards dfminishing the total effect (as in la N&issance de Venus).
But since for him this side of his art was somewhat accessory, and
as most often one cannot state definitely that he was responsible for
the orchestration, it is better to refrain from criticisms or eulogies
which may not be his due.

The study of this Faurien technique shows what will be discussed
again in due course : his freedom with regard to the fashions of
his time. He always remained himself, without departing from
traditional ways (understanding by this the best, those of Bach). Was
he influenced by Wagner s ninths ? Impossible to say ; but he need
not have been. The chord was well known ; and besides he used
it in his own quite personal way. If on the other hand, in that
beautiful appoggiatura, " J aurais pitie du coeur des homines," 1 Claude
Debussy seems to have led Faure towards a parallel path (cf. la Foret
de Septembre, le Don silencieux same harmony and equally in the
second Quintet, as well as in Penelope ; " Tu pleures . . ." p. 145),
it is of no importance and no one would dream of speaking of
reminiscence. Everything that the master obtained by this means 2
was personal to him. But one should not be too unmindful of all
this ; to use correctly, and with beauty, chords that have inspired
you in other musicians 7 hands, needs not less talent than to write
chords entirely new. Perhaps it needs more.

Technical study, necessary to any serious monograph, remains
specialised however, and can give only a vague idea of the physiognomy
or the sensitiveness of the artist. Only by hearing the music can you
grasp the bond between the sounds we have just analysed, and the
expression the state of soul (conscious or not) anterior to the produc
tion of the work. What we are attempting in this book is to prepare
for this, by describing the " inmost soul " as it is apparent in his
compositions, so far as we have been able to recognise it ; after which
certain general characteristics of his art will present a sort of synthesis.

Faure s evolution preserves sufficient unity 3 for it to be traced only
in broad outlines. It is the story of the unfolding of his individuality
to the point where it displays Itself in the most profound and striking
manner. Gradually the foreign influences, the parasitical excrescences
engendered by a literature that did not suit him, became assimilated.
(Thus appear to us Rev(> d amour, or les Djinns, by Victor Hugo).
It took him some time to eliminate the dross ; it is noticeable in
Fleur jetee and perhaps even in Poeme d un jour. With the musical

Pelleas et Melisande, page 219 (2nd Edition) (ArkeVs phrase).

Ms Debussy, for his part, took the 9ths of Erik Satie (Sarabandes 1887), and as
Wagner, certain discoveries of Liszt : for example, the chorus of Brunnhilde" s slumber,
which we are assured were borrowed from the Faust Symphony,

^Despite the " three periods " we have particularised abovein the chapter devoted
to his piano works.

70

The Man And His Style

influences it is quite otherwise ; with a persistent suppleness they
were turned in the direction of his own domain, enriched by passing
detours. He was led to the discovery of his own personality by
certain poems : first, those, lyrical in form, which satisfied a feeling
for nature (Chant d Automne, Baudelaire), or else his innate love
of Venice 1 and for the Italy of Frescobaldi and the Florentine painters. 2
Often too he couples with it a sensitivity washed by the broad current
of romanticism^ Besides the purely musical considerations 3 you see
therefore that it is poetry, or travel real or imaginary or the
orientation due to the subject (Promethe\ and particularly the inner
evolution (towards that serenity, alternating with anguish, of his
last years), that are the stages on the road leading to his real self,
until he obtained complete self-expression and from then on attempted
only what was profoundly true. In short, we find ourselves led
to the study of the Man.

In the Chapter on his Life we drew a rapid sketch of his appearance.
It is difficult to picture him without that halo of white hair, as we
have known him for so many long years. To see him as he was
as a young man we must turn to his eldest SOD, M. Emmanuel Faure-
Fremiet the very picture, it seems. There is the same delicacy,
that " breeding " whose distinction clothes the apparent tranquillity
of an Eastern sage and a certain smile, not entirely free from irony
but below the surface, and never turning to bitterness. His look
was strangely distant, as his eyes followed the smoke of the eternal
cigarette. But study the fine sketch, by Sargent, done in London
about 1898, at the time of the performances of Pelllas et M&lisande ;
here you can see the energy, hidden under an air of nonchalance.
We would have loved to see him some day in Arab costume, as it
were, the descendant of one of those delightful poets of old, the kind
we meet in M. Franz Toussaint s translation of Klingsor. But he
never indulged in such whims even shunning with care a Bohemian
appearance. No one was simpler in dress : not " smart," but always
correct ; neither " starchy " nor casual.

As for his real self, his connection with le Figaro shows him in his
relations with his colleagues and society. He was above aU benign
and courteous ; an example by which, if they were capable, the
pretentious incompetents who think they know everything (or would
like to seem so), ceaselessly searching for the faults of a work, might
profit. To say or to write unpleasant things was repugnant to him,
as much by reason of his natural good-nature as that modesty which
characterised him. And with Massenet, and Puccini, when he recognised
music in certain pages it was he, emphatically, who was right a
wiser attitude than the contempt of the sqobs. His dedication of
le Parfum imperissable to Paolo Xosti, composer of trashy ballads,
was not, as might be supposed, irony, biting and cynical (and vain),
but a souvenir of pleasant relations without measuring the gulf

separating them. " __________

. 1 BarcarolIe, Shylock.
2 Serenade toscane, Clair de lune,

*The influence of Bach, Mendelssohn, Chopin* Gounod and Saint-Saens, whom
U would be unjust to forget.

71

Gabriel Faure

If one adds that he was not essentially literary-minded, nor
philosophical in conversation or writing, certain reservations are
necessary. He had a deep affection for the poets. Capable of
conceiving abstract ideas, he did not dissociate himself from philo
sophical problems (particularly touching the arts). But he never
practised dialectic after the current fashion. His bent was not that
of a Leonardo da Vinci, the explicit knowledge of phenomena ; the
search for causes formed no part of the depth of his mind. He spent
no time in analysing. He saw the world, primarily, as a mine of
harmony ; impressions vividly experienced, his work determined by
a state of mind a synthesis of which he was profoundly conscious.
Moreover, he was interested in this searching for causes, this analysis,
in other people ; often he would find developed there themes dear
to him. 1 If he reserved his best leisure, not for the study of M. Bergeret,
but for the transports of poetry or the countryside, transforming them
into music, his was not the worse choice.

His articles show no virtuosity of style, no striving after effect ;
on the contrary, no one was further removed from rhetoric. He put
forward his views with no elaborate phraseology ; soberly, clearly
and exactly. But it is certain that he felt more deeply than his words
show, the art of music being his medium. While life allowed him,
he sang of life, with a sort of recognition of having loved beauty,
with that singular optimism, that intimate happiness which carried
in itself the gift of being made manifest in music. As with all artists
of lively sensibility, the reality was inferior to his dream, but neverthe
less fine and wonderfully healthy.

At present we are, perhaps, attempting the impossible, by trying
to put Faure s sensibility into words.

It is both charming and forcible. Opposite poles : too .often
one sees only the first. But the balance of his art is held delicately :
in his technique, original discipline and freedom ; in his souk that
mixture of tenderness and inner energy (although a certain will
power was lacking, in that he did not always know how to refuse) ;
finally, in his general aesthetic, that essentially Greek equilibrium
between feeling and logic.

The Faurien charm : let us do away with this equivocation. When
a piece of music is musical, and also possesses the attraction of a
great success, certain cross-grained people affect to believe that it
is no more than an ear-tickling appeal to the senses. Thus, the
detractors of Gounod s Faust. Happily, this contempt seems to be
going out of fashion ; but it was formidable and unwholesome at
the time of the Wagner idolatry. But the charm of Faure and
often of Gounod penetrates deeper than mere sensation. To be
sure, it is not, in origin, free from sensuousness. This is necessary
to every artist ; sensual response to the beauty of chord and line,
to nature, to beauty in all its forms for example, feminine beauty. 2
*It has been shown in a previous quotation (cf the Chapter on the Piano Works)
that he was not incapable of expressing these things himself and sometimes, not
without beauty.

^Though this general sensuousness extends to many subjects other than that studied
by Freud, to which some people would reduce all kinds of pleasure a very debatable
proposition ! *

72

The Man And His Style

But what then ? Does not art rely on matter ? And is not matter
the primordial condition, the mainstay of all expression that has
been brought to fruition ? With Debussy, and with Mozart, you will
find a like attractiveness of the " substantial," without blame being
attached to it 1 because this substance is quickened by the inner life
of the human spirit. I would not say, moreover, that an analogous
ch^rm is not found in Bach, in the luxuriance of his chords, or in the
ornamentations of his modulations, which have nothing of a dry
intellectualism. And this sensuoumess of Bach, Mozart, Faure and
Debussy does not preclude a pure style of writing, constructional
ability, or the power of evoking the profowdest thoughts.

If one returns to the man himself, one finds a thoughtful seriousness
alternating with an amiable and almost childlike playfulness. 2 A
child he always remained in the best sense of the word : laughing
heartily at a joke, without unkindness or bad taste amusing himself
like a little boy with a Quadrille tetralogique (an unpublished work,
after Wagner), which he played in duet form with his good friend
Andre Messager.

And that shows us the complete simplicity of his soul. People are "
mistaken with regard to the nature of the Faurien refinement The
writer of the Berceuse, from Dolly, and la Fileuse, from Petteas,
possessed from the very first that naivete, the result of his individuality,
from his having something to say from his " ideas. " a These he
then developed with no care for effect a great source of strength.
Never did he fear the simplicity of quite ordinary harmonies (it is
needless to return to the examples quoted, perfect cadences and 6/4 s).
To grasp the full import of this, modify the final line of C est Vextose
with, say, some pretentious appoggiatura (E Natural F), or a
suspension in the manner of M. Reynaldo Hahn (E Flat D Flat),
and you will see at once how Faure remains audaciously simple. 4
Writing this, we are reminded of the learned ignoramus who talked
to us of the " over-elaborate " themes which, as Director of the
Conservatoire, Faure submitted for the fugue competition ! Nothing,
on the contrary, could be clearer than these themes 5 so tuneful,
and free of all false chromaticism.

In his case the refinement never sprang from the desire for distinction,
the fear of being banal ; and on the other hand he condescends to
the most familiar chords with the most perfect good grace. His
refinement is the expression of the idea. The depth and intensity
of the phrase often demands those modulatory gradations,* in which
he never lost his way and those unexpected cadences leading him
back to the principal key. 7 Faure s simplicity is Verlaine s : " Au

1 O/z the contrary, it is rather the primary duty of the artist.

z As the Theme and Variations following his Valses-Caprices.

3 The action was reciprocal : the musical idea benefited by the anterior simplicity.

4 The audacity is unpremeditated and unconscious ; but he could act in no other way,
obedient to the perfect taste of his musical instinct, in keeping moreover with the pro
fundity of his nature.

5 As well as his very beautiful Chorales,, for the counterpoint Prize.
*Cf. Dans la Nymphee, from le Jardin clos.

7 C/I Le Parfum imperissable : " On pent Vepandre toute"

D 73

Gabriel Faure

calme clair de lune triste et beau . . ." It is simple and refined
by turns * or rather, it is both at once, for its refinement remains as
simple as the imperceptible curves in the Parthenon, as the slightly
modified dimensions of its columns. And so it is always with great
artists; study the harmony of Bach s fugues or chorales.

Besides to consider only the nature more or less complex oi a chord
or progression is an elementary method, and susceptible of errpr ;
analysis will reveal complexities whose effect is simple, because they
embody that absolute perfection, that logic where nothing is useless,
that ease thanks to which the whole thing proceeds without a stop,
with no faltering phrase and harmony going exactly to their

s from the youthful affability of TAubade,

and moving with a thousand successive and variegated evolutions
towards the inner melancholy of Clair de lune, or that, more explicit,
of Spleen, culminating at last in la Chanson d Eve and V Horizon
chimeriqueis founded on goodness, tenderness and love. Before
all things this music is loving. It never mocks or sneers, never makes
its way by caricature. 1 It is varied by the thousand sentiments
touching love. Sometimes it is seen as proceeding from pure and
sensitive sound, as in the joyous finale of la Bonne Chanson and that
to the first Act of Promethee, where the master approaches to the
passionate exaltation of Bach. 2 But often, too, it is the intimate
mingling of a hidden melancholy with a certain serenity. Sometimes,
again (more rarely, it is true) one is aware of a stormy night, with
dark eddies on the sea. Grief is not far from this essentially human
work 3 nor even (though exceptionally), anger ; look again at the
D Minor Pr&bide. It is necessary to survey the whole gamut : from
the vibrant good humour of la Bonne Chanson, the noble ardour
of Penelope, to the " open wound " and serene forgiveness of le Parfum
miperissablefiQm the " adolescence " of Aubade, Nell, Aurore, to
the maturity of la Foret de Septembre, then to the youthfulness, as
imagined and recreated, of the incomparable Danseuse (from Mirages)
_ or the Scherzo of the second Quintet that work finishing with the
hidden farewell that conceals the String Quartet.

Impossible to classify, to confine within limits, a sensitivity so diverse
aad nevertheless, so wholly one ; any two bars of Faure are his
and no one else s. But the human heart is a world in itself which
this seer has explored to the furthermost corners, the most grief-laden
deftfhs, as well as describing its most obvious and naively ingenuous
aspects. He enters at last the serene sanctuary, the haven of rest 4
after so many storms : a serenity sometimes deceptive : born of

1 Apart from the good-humoured jest of the Quadrille tetralogique, which did not
preclude a lively admiration for Wagner.

*Cf. the Aria from the Pentecost Cantata ; the Resurrexit, from the B Minor Mass,
etc.

fitegie, for Cello ; the Requiem, Spleen, Prison, etc.

*// is Scarcely necessary to refute certain criticisms,, tending to the conclusion that
this serenity " lacks emotion " ; that it is perfect, but ** ne faisant point pleurer."
This shows a lack of comprehension of Faure s art, similar to that suffered formerly,
among such aestheticians, by Greek art. We shall return to this

74

The Man And His Style

many a previous suffering, the scar not always healed. Do we not
fi nd among the unfathomable Chorales of Bach something of the
same nature ? Thus we come to the end of the road leading to the
heart s depths, to " cet ami sublime que tu as en toi " (Baghavad
CM). ^ ^

- And the power of this sweet and penetrating charm is already very
great : to the point where it would not require much more for the
musical and sensitive attraction of le Parfum imperissable to become,
itself, an intense force. But dynamism properly so-called rhythm
and solid weightiness, and even a certain brutal energy were never
lacking in Gabriel Faure. To be sure, this is not an art of fisticuffs ;
his music is not pugilistic. When it does achieve violence 1 order
and harmony are present too ; it thus becomes all the more striking.
In certain cases the power is vivid and undeniable, and it is amazing
that everyone has not yet recognised it; as for example the first
Act and final chorus of Promethee. There is realised in music, with
the most superb elan, the very phrase of that enthusiastic salutation,
" Promethee est la Force ! " But this Force sometimes appears
under a different aspect. Thus, the tranquil and expressive austerity
of tlie deep meditation with which the 7th Nocturne (in C Sharp
Minor) opens. A dynamic action is there as it were latent because
of the weight of this music, heightening in the extreme the effect of
the combination* of " movement " with " mass " a deep sea wave,
quite the opposite to a breaker, impotent and dispersed in spray.
This inner but irresistible potential is found in Bach ; a contrast to
the efforts, often successful, of emotional wrestlers in another style.

The relationship of the material to feeling is scarcely analysable ;
but it may be permitted to point out the appropriateness of the
technique ; notably those inescapable passing-notes tranquil, indis
pensable, their progress interrupted by nothing whatever. Promtthee,
like the Bach fugues, makes full use of them : first in the Prelude,
then in the first Chorus ; later, in the scene with Bia and Kratos,
** c est dans la solitude effroyable . . ." ; and we niust also mention,
among so many other examples, the triple canon at the end of the
second Act of Penelope.

It may be that the ease with which these are realised has deceived
people. 2 No doubt, to certain semi-civilised understandings, " vitriol "
is needed before an art becomes " powerful" 3 People have felt,
perhaps, because of this clear, logical and perfect musidansbip, that
it was less strong than many more strident works a disputable point
But also, white people have not learnt to appreciate this sever strength,
wherein asperity preserves a charm, they ignore it. Few musicians

1 Cyi Fleur jetee, or the invective of Bia and Kratos in Prom&bee, or of the Smt&rs
in P6ok>pe--<?r, again, the anger of the D Minor Pr&ude.

*And even, is not the deceptive nonchalance of certain works but the outward and
visible sign of an order which has bound the whole into perfect harmony ?

*This imp&es no depreciation of polytoml, or even atonal, music. The writer of
this book has had recourse too often U> these means to be suspected of ill-feeling
towards the style of Stravinsky or Schmberg* But it is true of pofyt&naMty as of
language t according to Aesop ; that its worth is as "varied as the worth of those wk&
use it.

75

Gabriel Faure

know Promethee. The last Nocturnes, the first Quintet and many
powerful songs are rarely performed ; those who see in Faure nothing
but slender inspiration hold to the erroneous view that all " informed
criticism " deems them obsolete.

In actual fact, they are igporant because they do not understand,
and do not want to understand ; because to Grecian (or simply
French) beauty, which has few initiates, they prefer something with
grosser contrasts, or stupid ornamentation. Which leads us to a study
of the Hellenic nature of his art, as well as the reasons why some
people remain estranged from the great master.

It is advisable, first of all, to clarify matters. Granted that the
subject of Prometheus, and the closer view of Aeschylus thus obtained,
were determining factors in this orientation yet it was a question
less of subject or local colour, than of more inward things ; for
la Chanson d ve and the second Quintet are as Greek as V Inscription
sw t le sable, Danseuse or Penelope.

Conciseness, clearness, choice of technique . . . Athenian clarity in
an art which has been likened to " shot silk " : but one had only to
hear Faure at the piano to grasp that a strict style did not preclude
nuance of expression ; to realise that the melodic line in Arpege^ or
Mandoline remained precise, with a winged fancy, a dreamy sensitivity,
and that background, sometimes, of an almost unreal past. And
always there is the paradox incomprehensible to grosser minds of
clarity of form and ease, of solidarity and suppleness, of superficial
nonchalance and latent energy. Thus Faure s charm remains Doric
Ionic often and never inclines to the Corinthian.

All these qualities of reserve, of tact, contribute to the force of an
art persuasive and serene, quite opposed to that of those athletes
of Herculean build, with veins distended in the effort towards the
sublime. With Faure there is none of that muscular effort of the
Last Judgment, no pathos of the Laocoon type, but the perfect, pure
and complete strength effortless and unobtrusive of a beautiful
antique torso. 1 And, as we have just pointed out, this force has indeed
some inner life, which renders it more powerful than many a violent
progression. There is no striving after effect. When the blow does
fall, the striking power is in perfect proportion. The harmony,
compact with music, charged with emotion, is " dense " ; and this
human density endows the elements of this language with mass, just
as in the atom the ions are animated by electricity, the resulting vortex
giving the notion of weight.

Also, one will never find " pure movement," movement for move
ment s sake, the rhythms beating in the void because the thought
is non-existent. 2 The force is from within ; virtual, potential, in all

*He lapses but rarely, if ever, into a " neo-Greek style a la Saint-Saens" wherein
the idea and the sensibility are not sustained as well as one could wish, Moreover,
Saint-Saens by no means always displayed this frigidity, which has been much ex
aggerated.

*The objection may be raised, that a beauty of pure percussion is possible ; for
instance, the end of Stravinsky s 1 Histoire du soldat But first, there is the question,
here, of contrast with the vocal portions ; and secondly, this art foreign to musical
sounds (for it makes use of intensities, duration, and loudness of noises only) has
nothing to fear from the platitudes of melody and harmony to which we allude.

76

The Man And His Style

the beauty of the idea. 1 And this again is very Grecian, in the
harmoniousness of this invincible force. The Prelude to Promethee
gives us a moving picture of sonorous waves, suggesting the billows
of the ocean ; and likewise, that great surge of grief which rises,
sweUs and ^ unfurls itself so nobly in Pandora s funeral ceremony. 2
All that is ordered, assured, and logical in the support which such
a mass can contribute to the spring of the rhythmic urge, Faure shows
equally by his balance of charm and reason : the discreet propriety
of all this, proportionate to the figure and nature of Man what could
be more Greek ? Here are no deformities or romantic excesses ;
not only no grotesque ugliness, but no impossible desires, no irremedi
able despair 3 even in the Nocturnes, no " cosmic visions," no gigantic
Milky Ways 4 ; only perfect and serene grandeur (second Act of
Penelope), limited to the human Mediterranean horizon. 5 To be
sure,, this Romanticism to which we have alluded may be capable of
real beauty; it can produce a certain sublimity. And doubtless,
if one accepts this extension to extra-human or supernatural boundaries,
the disproportion exists no longer ; if that is granted, there is harmony
in the emotion of this pathos seeking the infinite. But conceptions
of this kind, smacking rather of the North (and which appertain even
more to the Gothic or more still, to that paganism of prehistoric
Russia, with le Sucre de Printemps), remain as far removed from
Greek as from Faurien art. Besides, if it is a question of infinity.,
it can be maintained that the immensity of love in the realm of the
heart need concede nothing to ultra-terrestial dreams under the stars.
Thus, the profundity of le Parfum, imperissable ; thus, the image of
eternity which, by means so astonishingly simple, is evoked by those
la^t bars of rinscription sur le sable, where Death is portrayed as
essentially Greek. A disciple of Einstein would write, " It is not an
impression of limitlessness that emerges however, infinitude is not
absent." Space as vast as one could wish but it remains human.
It harmonises with our life.

We would add that the art of Gabriel Faure shows itself Greek and
pagan in the primordial importance it attaches to this human life.
It is constantly seen : in the hymns to love which form a good portion
of the composition of his second period ; in the pantheistic mysticism
of la Chanson d ve or le Jardin clos (in close sympathy with the
thought of the poet Van Lerberghe, the author of Pan) ; in such
evocations of light and antique grace as la Rose, Danseuse, etc. ; in
the passion which comes to life again in the Andante of the second

*As with Bach : the return of a theme, well harmonised and suitably timed, will
have a latent power superior, perhaps, to a pathos more directly theatrical.

*Here, the actual intensity is of little consequence, going simply from p to mf.
This power has not always the need for ff.

*Save sometimes in his last Nocturnes.

4 With the exception of the ** twinkling stars " which the middle portion of the 6th
Nocturne probably evokes ; and even here it is only the accompaniment to the melody.

*The Faurien conception of infinity will be dealt with in due course. Sometimes his
" human horizon " is extremely vast, especially when the sea is in question {cf. le ,
Lamento, in the first collection of songs, and even the Barcarolle ; au Cimet&re, in
the second volume ; Je me poserai sur ton coeur, from le Jardin ck>s).

77

Gabriel Faure

Quintet, right up to the despair of the 13th Nocturne, telling of the
approaching end (this picture of death is quite different from those
given by Spleen, au Cimetiere, or even by the Elegy and the Requiem,
works wherein one senses an artist far from the end of his life). The
intense serenity evinced by the first movement of the second Quintet
and the songs of his " third style " (I" Inscription sur le sable ; O mort,
poussiere d etoiles . . .) is not strictly Christian in character. It is
not a question of the life to come the In Paradisum being moreover
an exception required by the nature of the Requiem. Nor is it a
question of the doctrine of Christianity ; and this serenity, more
philosophical than dogmatic, is very different from that affirmed
by Bach at the end of the Actus Tragicus (" To-day shalt thou be with
me in Paradise.") When it does overcome the anguish of a future
dimly seen (and there is beauty in this strength of mind), a certain
confidence is perceived, in spite of everything, confidence in Him who
has created beauty, and hope that * life will continue." We can
imagine we hear, through the profound voice of music, the confession
of a spiritual Athenian, for whom the soft skies, and the charm of
the Mediterranean light, and the feeling of having heard the " inner
God," remain for ever the essential realities. Philosophers, artists,
thinkers, all striving to obey the voice of this inner conscience none,
I know, will boast (if he is sincere) of having attained a superhuman
goal ; I mean, of having made all his acts correspond to his high
ideal. But with them this ideal none the less exists. Faure never
posed as a moralist ; he never adopted the overweening Pharisaical
attitude towards any one. But the " still, small voice " sings in his
work ; he puts the best of himself into it : the dictates of his conscience
are translated into his human language with all the beauty of which
he was capable. All praise to the artist who has devoted his life to
so full and complete a consummation of this beauty.

Such an art, supremely civilised, a legacy from one of the most
beautifql musical epochs, is moreover marked by no stain of degeneracy.
Too often civilisation tends to be confounded with the refinement
of luxury shown by the ages of decadence. And lately we have heard
a foreign conductor, on reading the Trio of the master, speak of
" romantic feminity." Nothing could be more false : it is, on the
contrary, classic and virile art. It does not follow that what is
sensitive and not barbarian should be affected, or that pure music
and sound construction should remain absent.

But precisely because of its qualities, it happens that it is misunder
stood. It is quite true that, in France, a more and more numerous
elite of initiates are forming a sort of" Faurien freemasonry," amongst
whom the musical gifts, the taste, and fineness of their harmonic ear
are proved, in truth, by this common, sympathy. For them, the
general incompetency of the critics could be measured by their non-
coinprehension of Gabriel Faure : aad I for one do not find this claim
ridiculous. But in opposition to this select band, even in our own
country, is the mass of the uneducated, and particularly- a more
serious fact those music-lovers whose culture is specially due to

7S

The Man And His Style

the art of Beethoven and his successors. 1 The study of this lack of
comprehension rounds off this discussion of Faure s character.

And first, we do not wish to infer an a priori eulogy because his
art is French. We do not praise these qualities because they are
ours, but because they seem praiseworthy ; and we can congratulate
ourselves that they represent at the same time the pure French
tradition, Droving that the spirit of our artists, poets and musicians
is rooted in things good in themselves, and exclusive of all nationalistic
vainglory. But we cannot overlook the fact that elsewhere, perhaps,
these things are misunderstood, and that a public for whom Tschaikow-
sky (with the undesirable Pathetic Symphony) is a great master, has
necessarily quite a different conception from ours and less classic.

Two trends are clearly discernible in the musicians of other countries :
the one, a sentimentality (necessarily harmful), emphatic, turgid and
cloying all at once ; the other, brutality often barbarous, but vital
(R. Strauss, Hindemith, Prokofiev, etc.). 2 In contrast to these two
tendencies there are respectively :

1st. The Logic of Faure, because of which the Beethoven fanatics,
misled, consider him cold, or at least, " perfect, but with no emotion."
We have had occasion to discuss the matter with a music-lover of this
sort ; but as (with the assurance of ignorance) he addressed the same
reproach to Bach judging him scholastic we carried the discussion
no farther. These dullards have blinkers or rather, earplugs which
render them deaf. It is probable that such a listener, swooning at
the floods of emotion of the Pathetic Symphony, would be insensitive
to the 2nd Quintet. That is regrettable, but what can be done?
And one is reminded of Boubouroche denying his wife s unfaithful
nature. . . .

2nd. His Sensitiveness, considered by some, as we have seen, to
be " romantic femininity." Lately, some criticisms from beyond the
Rhine have contained denunciations of God knows what " Parisian
superficiality." 3 Some modern theories, analagous to those of Saint-
Saens on the possibility of a " purely plastic " 4 music, would have
Form and Expression opposed to each other. 5 A priori this is open
to question, and a posteriori there is nothing in the history of music
to confirm it. People go to the extent of neglecting the very profound
and ever-present sentiment of Bach, clinging to the inteHectualism
of his " exact form " whereas his form shows great diversity and
his art great expression ! This " revolt against expression " (pedantic
rather than new), this neo-classic conception (though there is little

1 7% point requires a little elucidation. It is principally a matter of harmonic
culture, more even than the expressive character, or the turns of phrase. But there
is no doubt that the style of Brahms, and even on occasion that ofBeethoven* is very
Cerent from the styles, of Back, Mozart and Faure. It mmst mt be concluded from
this that the latter did not understand Beethoven \

2 /r is doubtful -whether to add Stravinsky, -whose sort of inner barbarity is so imtural
and precise i so lucid and well-fumed, that it acquires the qualities of classicism, even
apart from the fine transcription c^Pulcinella.

3 Always this old nonsense of the French being light, incapable of depth I

4 Cf. the Letters of Saint-Sains to Camille Bellaigue (Revue des Deux Mondes).

*Pec?pte have tried to make m " impressionist " ofCkwde Debmsy, mi ** exprestfion-
ist " of Gabriel Faure. In which is the Form less solid ?

79

Gabriel Faure

" classic " about it), this gratuitous, anti-musical fashion of separating
the expressive element from the constructional factors all this, it
must be realised, is the fashion of the day. Our artists will do ^well
not to let their heads be stuffed with the ideas of the aestheticians.
It is obvious that the construction, even the form, can vary with
the sentiment, and should do so. We will not labour the point ;
the works of Faure, displaying as perfect a harmony in their balanced
design as one could wish, are there for all to see. Clearly, if one
banishes love, if one fears all that comes from the heart and ventures
only on a sort of " Meccano " construction, one cannot understand
his music. But in that case, what true musician could one under
stand ? And even those who delight in a style of brutal violence,
do not they display a sort of expression in reverse ? If their works
are living they preserve a relation to human feelings.

There is added a last obstacle, and this not the least one : the
language of Gabriel Faure. More than anything, in the Songs, this
habit of expressing himself without insistence perplexes on first hearing ;
one has to re-read them and pore over them. 1 But there is also the
novelty and subtlety of the syntax. 2 If its elements appear traditional,
in reality this music (descending from Gounod and Chopin) differs
from Beethoven s. And not only in the general aesthetic (much
closer to Bach), nor even in the contrapuntal writing, but above all
in the nature of the harmony ; it is this, evidently, which perplexes
the traditional Beethovenian before a work of Faure, however great
it may be. 3 We have spoken at length of his taste for Plain-song,
his Gregorian feelings, his plagal cadences, his very personal modula
tions. In all these regards he is seen to be infinitely further from
those one calls "the classics" than Richard Wagner. Beethoven
in his time, and after his fashion, was extremely bold ; a creator of
the utmost freedom, as the dismay of many musicians at his first
performances in France will testify (cf. Berlioz Memoires). And
it is a very regrettable convention, contrary to the true Beethoven
tradition of feeling and independence not to venture from his
principal harmonies ; but the intolerance of the ear is great, and
audiences are easily disconcerted. An art as new, in its turn, as
Faure s was received with reserve by Ambroise Thomas just as, even
to-day, is done by certain belated critics, unable to see that a warm
welcome for the present does not prevent them, if they wish, from
holding in permanent affection the beauties of yesterday.

To appreciate at its true value the music of Penelope, la Bonne
Chanson or the 2nd Quintet, the ear must be guided along harmonic
lines already familiar : usual enough in France that is, among the
elect since a number of our composers have similar ways of expressing
themselves but much rarer in other countries, , where the majority
of the public still thinks in the language of yesterday, 4 accepting if

*This is why French music, with its reserve and compactness, is more difficult to
understand than Wagner.

*More than the vocabulary.

3 For it is often by the beauty of this harmony that the expression, in his case, is made
so intense.

^With a notable inability to understand any harmonization derived from Gregorian
Modes.

so

The Man And His Style

need be a certain uncouth bitonality, less new at bottom than Faure s
conceptions. In addition, some general culture appears necessary
an Attic sense whose value Is not appreciated by everybody 1 ; and
the understanding that quality outweighs quantity. Finally and this
is perhaps essential there must be a moral sense ; a leaning towards
goodness, seriousness and depth; never admitting an art merely
amusing, or brutal, or vulgarly emphatic.

Considered from this point of view Faure s art offers a most
instructive lesson. It will be not unhelpful to particularise, which
we propose to do in these final pages.

From its Greek nature it follows first that this art, sober and
temperate, is not overwhelming. Its spaciousness, free from ambition
and vanity, is the final goal led up to by song, sonata and quartet
(sometimes it has been achieved earlier, almost at the outset of this
journey ; cf. Chant d automne, Apres un Reve, the 1876 Violin Sonata,
etc.). Nothing is more salutory than to remember that such an
artist, despising non,e of his colleagues, and no technique, however
common with no proud pre-meditation and almost unconsciously,
could produce such great and powerful music ; it should teach us
both confidence and modesty. Certainly, his emotional capacity
was very great, and the gift is indeed rare which can discover harmony
in matter, can ensnare the beauty existing in the world and finally
transpose life into terms of art, bequeathing to men the best of himself.
Others may be less liberally endowed ; but if they develop the gifts
of the good fairies in the best and healthiest conditions, they need
not lose heart.

In the first place, the regard for expression, needful at all times,
would to-day be the surest antidote to that withering indifference which
paralyses inspiration. As for the Faure modesty, and the summits
to which it leads the musician, the question is closely connected with
the relativity of the force and the artistic grandeur. No need to pile
Pelion upon Ossa to reach the Olympians ; and the route to Parnassus
is " with a good grace " and simplicity of soul. More true grandeur
is to be found in a few clear lines w (such as a Bach Chorale, or a
Faure Melodie : " O Mort, poussiere d etoiles . . .") than in many
a long and ambitious symphony, empty and bombastic. A simple
hand sketched by da Vinci, a negro study by Rubens, are durable
things ; it is of slight importance that the study in question does
rtot deal with a precise subject, or is only a fragment I Life and
beauty are the things which count, not the genre of the work, nor
its apparent dimensions, nor even that it is " unfinished " : there is
but one Act only of la Briseis^ by Chabrier, or of Mussorgsky s
Mariage. Mozart s "Exercises in strict counterpoint," 2 Claude
Debussy s or Maurice Ravel s harmony exercises, would be infinitely
superior in interest to some mediocre lyric drama or symphony.
It will not be contested that there is some absolute quality in the power

which attention goes hand in hand; Faures music is not such as one can
listen to inattentively.

^Beethoveris have been published and very unequal they are {to say the least}.
He could never conform to this discipline, despite real effort. But the ** school studies n
of Mozart ought to be charming.

81

Gabriel Faure

of the orchestra, as in the time-scale. Certain thoughts, certain, works,
demand a vast canvas ; for example, Promethee. But it is clear
(and Faure continually provides the example) that a highly sensitive
artist, given the talent to render this sensitivity articulate, requires
but a page to achieve a rare beauty. U Invitation au voyage or VElegie
suffice to prove M. Duparc a great musician. In fact, we come
back always to the comparison of the Parthenon with la Cite of
Carcassonne or simply, that of a marble fragment, a relic of the
Acropolis, with a clock casing in " artistic bronze," or the official
and deplorable public statue.

We have already gathered that his compositions originated in a
sort of moral quality, as much as in what comes from the heart, as
in that confidence in an unambitious type of beauty, and in that
calm assurance of the relativity of greatness since the inner life of
the music and the manner of its realisation are the only things of
importance. The very life-story, the study of Faure s art, from the
moral point of view, offers the most profitable object lesson.

" Cultivons notre jardin ..." Aptitudes and tastes vary, but it
is a universal maxim. To realise it you have only to ask yourself
this question : How came Faure ceaselessly to develop, and not
squander, the gifts which the Goddess brought to his cradle?

By unremitting work, in the balancing of discipline and freedom.
This discipline, dating from 1 ficole Niedermeyer and also from
the excellent lessons he had from Saint-Saens, fugue and strict counter
point this respect for order, to which he submitted, and which he
continued to observe of his own free will, that harmonious Reason
that he loved, that his artistic nature demanded such were also the
characteristics of the composer of Henry VDIth. 1 But the latter
included in his intellectual equipment a certain amount of needless
science. He reasoned sometimes a priori; an argument in general
superficial and not rigorous, and positively false, since one is tempted
to apply it in all cases. Faure had the advantage on the contrary, of
never wasting his time in that way. He had the wisdom to control
Ms feelings only by his instinct ; by the bounds of taste, and not by
regrettable hypotheses about " purely plastic " compositions. He had
little interest in how a work was labelled, or any of the side issues of
art, and particularly whether or no he was writing " pure music."
He cared only for music, pure and simple. Then the magic flower
blossomed, with its undying perfume.

But Faure s freedom is more than simply the disdain of useless
theories, or than technical daring. It proceeds from moral causes,
from the character of the man. 2

This freedom showed itself independent of the dictates of fashion ;
having "something to say" he remained free from pushfulness,
from commercialism, from histrionics, from all taint of playing to
the gallery whence the most fecund individualism. It is needless
to insist on the dangers of fashion, the unhealthy futility of bowing

*i.e. 9 Samt-Saens.

*And after all> it is always the man that we find in the works of an artist : we benefit
or suffer from the good or bad qualities of his inner being.

82

The Man And His Style

to its decrees. 1 This kind of " novelty " declares itself the very
negation of art lacking personality, feeling, or creation. To say of
music : this harmony is demote, these accompaniments should be
thrown on the scrap-heap this is clearly stupid. All durable beauty
is born, lives and survives eternally, apart from fashion* The artist
demands an aesthetic diametrically opposed to that of the " man
of the world " whose eye is (temporarily) accustomed to some baroque
line, some illogical proportion, ugly in itself, simply because it is
chic. Faure was neither Wagnerian, nor Franckist, nor Debussyist
nor Ravelian, nor " Eriksatieist "nor Stravinskyist. All the move
ments which influenced the opinions of the snobs, if he did not seek
to flee from them (which would have been a slavery in reverse) at
least he was never shaken by their eddies. 3

To be oneself : on this condition only, can one show oneself diverse
profound, and true. .

^ But individualism has sometimes, a bad press. It will be objected :
" If the composer shows himself individual, living in his own thoughts*
dreaming only of what he finds in the poets, in nature, and in the events
of his own life if he neglects to this degree the surrounding feeling,
he will not be truly representative, he will have no existence for the
crowd." And this means discussing the question of popular music.
But first, what is this " surrounding feeling ? " If one considers it
in its less elevated and most customary aspect, it is only a question
of the art of the populace, of unpleasant demagogy. Why may the
artist not be aristocratic ? Why indeed, should he not be, if you
take the word in its original connotation, derived from " the best ? "
" Enough of learned music, made for an elite of Mandarins \ "
What a dangerous thesis I Must there not, always, be some develop
ment of the musical sense, acquired by repeated hearings ? Without
a little culture to start with, would you understand Beethoven s
Fourteenth Quartet? This has been necessary for us, the profes
sionals 4 ; by what privilege is the rest of society exempt ? Moreover,
the experience of all high inspiration demands a different culture ;
not specially literary, but rather general and, ultimately, moral Thus

^This. does not mean that, in certain exceptionally privileged epochs, the best art
cannot be in agreement with official and national fashions a general style, a universal
feeling. This is to be seen in the time of Pericles. But the dtizem of Athens formed
an aristocracy ; and even then it is not certain that each artist did not preserve h s own
fdiosyncracies, and sometimes (as with Euripedes) a cast of mind hardly satisfactory
to the opinion of the majority.

*Or at least , if it is found to be in agreement with the fashion^ this is a coincidence
and not obedience on the part of the artist.

3 It is of the first importance to recall that Faurg never ceased to be faithful to those
he admired, and that the disparagements of cliques had no effect on him. At the time
of the Wagner idolatry, when it was the height of fashion to despise Gounod, Faurg took
care never to change his opinion o/Venise and the Duo from Faust, More recently,
when a " triple alliance " of the Schola Cantorum, a number of Debussy s followers
{but not including Ravel I), and some of the polytonalists, mis battering down Samt-
Saens* reputation an excess of censure after a glory perhaps too effulgent the old
pupil ofTEcole Niedermeyer was not only proclaiming that he owed everything to the
composer of the charming and little known Ascanio, but even maintaining that, w his
opinion* this musician was one of the foremost of the French School.

*And even before the study of technique, of which there is here no guestiw ; the
culture referred to is the knowledge of and insight into the works.

83

Gabriel Faure

after a little acclimatising in these works we see people whose
musical education has been quite negligible enthusing over Penelope,
and Pelleas et Melisande, by reason of their own sensitivity, ^ and
thanks to the quality of a sufficiently developed "inner being."
Conversely, some vulgar souls, despite their natural aptitude for the
art of sounds, will never understand, music, except by a miracle,
and momentarily, never lifts them above their level, or awakens in
them anything of nobility. But they would never be converted by
means of the mediocre. However, what is the meaning of this vague
term, " learned music " ? It is used to describe an elevated, contra
puntal style that is to say, writing in several parts, with harmony
not absolutely elementary. Some would wish to see it banished. 1
Happily, an experience of M. Albert-Doyen, with the Mastersingers
at the Fetes du Peuple, was conclusive. The polyphony of the third
Act discouraged none of the participators all very modest in
technique. 2 The Bach Chorales met with a like success. It is
probable that some scenes from Promethee would succeed no less 3 ;
Faure s art, personal though it may be, reveals itself as universal,
and even popular in the best sense of the word. But it is necessary
to educate the people up to it. And no slogan of " art for all " will
excuse concessions to the " vulgum pecus"

At bottom, it seems that the objections to individualism spring
from a confusion of words. The artist " collective " or not is
necessarily an individual. His metier, his imagination, his feeling
are his own ; the truer he remains to himself, the more living, enduring
and human he is, and the further, in the long run, will his work spread.
Paradox, if you will ; but an incontestable truth proved by the actual
history of music.

It is a curious thing, that in the " simple soul " of Gabriel Faure
should be found a certain affinity with young people, though his
sensitivity seems quite different. To become a child again, or never
to lose one s childlike simplicity of character, that one may love
certain chords, and dare to write them some newcomers have under
stood the worth of this quality. Chabrier reveals it, in la Bourree
Fantasque, and Faure very often. Do not think that this is antagonistic
to forceful maturity ; it only makes it sincere and strong. For
Promethee, in its prerequisite ingenuousness has nothing of a false
rusticity or manufactured archaism, of elemental demagogy or
fictitious power. It is to be sincerely hoped that the generations
to come will be able to profit by this lesson. The great musicians,
the Faures, Debussys and Stravinskys, are themselves. If it is not
wise to shun a priori the " impressionism "* of Debussy i.e., an art

*But then, the Beethoven Quartets would have to be included in this banishment !
And it is not clear why Faure s Promethee, or his Second Quintet, would be any more
mandarin-#e than the Andantes of either the 16th or 15th Quartets.

*The choral part was sung by heart We would not say that the public grasped
straight away alt the beauties of this work ; but they were not absolutely against it.
And gradually , by helpful repetitions^ they came to understand the music.

^The first Act, for example. Remember^ too, that it was sung by Bitterois amateurs.

*With all reserve concerning the legitimacy of this word as applied to Debussy
and remembering that the composer of Pelleas, when he Iiked 9 could show himself
powerful, even violent.

84

The Man And His Style

of soft and pleasing values in the hope (sometimes vain) of being
strong ; if, as always, it is a snare to yield to fashion (that of to-day
being to extol raucous sounds) 1 , it is another thing to be hypnotised
by the distinction of the Debussyan and Verlainian melancholy, 2 in
the fear of all homely expression, in order to achieve a certain
degeneracy (the fashion of yesterday), in point of fact far removed
from Debussy.

This hankering after distinction, under the influence of Pelleas and
VHeure espagnole, has its dangers. But on the other hand it is both
vain and weak to turn one s back on Debussy. Now Faure s example,
morally speaking, is much healthier, because, being master of himself,
he had the strength to shun violent changes ; because he despised no
art ; because he strove to recognise the beautiful in all its forms.

" Pure music." There can be no question about that. But why
is this " musicality " beautiful ? And what is the lesson ? Not to
imitate him. For are there any chords or progressions that one could
class a priori as ugly or beautiful ? (Nevertheless, in the plastic arts,
running shorts, or a moustache cut " a la americaine," are ugly,
and the robe of the huntress Diana beautiful ; but there is here the
intervention of the proportions of the whole, a human logic and even
of sensitiveness, because of expression resulting from lines more or
less felicitous). In music, would it be sufficient to adopt certain
well known progressions a la Faure, to achieve a Faurien beauty,
or simply, Beauty ? Not at all ; and what traps one would fall into !
Quite definitely, it seems to us that good sounding harmony corresponds
to the Greek perfection, to a certain serenity of soul. But there is
also the dramatic impetus ; sometimes this demands other progressions,
unexpected asperities. And then, in some instances, there is a mingling
of sentiments apparently opposed to each other ; the two kinds of
harmonisation can be combined in what proportion will depend on
the individual case. Romanticism assimilated, put in order, overcome
and mastered, becomes a source of riches : art becomes then trans
formed into a broad and new classicism ; it is seen in the case of
Gabriel Faure. On the other hand, the artificial, catalogued, formalised
serenity is no more than lifeless academicism false and stereotyped
classicism. There is no recipe for Faure s art, for none would prove
itself sufficiently supple ; and one could use his progressions to
advantage only if one already possessed, in a kindred form, something
of his own beauty in the sentiments expressed : it would then be
coincidental, as with the Tritone in Marguerite s air (from Faust)
and the harmonies we admire so much in the Serenade toscane or
le Lamento.

In conclusion, it is then the moral teaching of his work, his life,
his being as we have just defined it which is the beacon for the
younger generation, if they will only make up their minds to be
guided by it ; and with this wish we close the volume. There lies

1 In contrast, mark the harmonious forcefulness 0/Promethee,

* Already, in Wagner s time, the supporters of complex ** alterations " displayed a

most unmusical and limitless contempt for Gounod. Always Fashion and its evils

and always Pride, " the deadliest of human counsellors \ n

85

Gabriel Faure

the road of art in charm, purity, and strength of writing in serious
ness and depth of feeling in the natural, honest conscience and the
high ideals of an individualism which yielded to no concession
such is his lesson. Already some of his qualities have ceased to be
misunderstood by the younger generation ; their successors, if they
will reject the influence of Operetta and the clamour of the market
place, will be able to comprehend him to the full as a " gloire classique "
of France : " the greatest living musician " wrote Gaston Carraud
just before his death. But is he not still living, will he not live for
ever, while men are capable of the love of Music ?

List of Work,

This list is based on that published during Faure s lifetime in la
Revue Musicale, Oct., 1922. Some emendations and corrections have
been suggested in the course of the work ; thus, the songs of the first
volume probably extend over a fairly long period, somewhere around
1865. With regard to the first Quintet, it is very probable that the
opening Allegro corresponds to the work announced as Op. 60, and also
that the rest of Op. 89 was finished well before 1906, the date of its
publication. Finally, Prison and Soir, formerly were numbered Op. 73
and not 83, their composition and even the date of publication being,
to all appearances, anterior to that given in the official list (1900).

Many of the songs being published in different keys, it has been
thought useful to indicate what was the original key ; this has been
inserted, in brackets, after the title, where necessary.

Opus No.

Title.

1 /Le Papillon et la fleur (Victor Hugo)
\Mai<y. Hugo)

2/Dans les mines d une abbaye (V. Hugo)
\Les Matelots (TheopMe Gautier) . .

3/SeuleCTh. Gautier)

\Serenade toscane (Roma in Bussine)

4 /Chanson du pScheur (Th. Gautier)
\Lydia (Leconte de Lisle)

5 f Chant d automne (Charles Baudelaire)
< Reve d amour (V. Hugo) . .
LL Absent (V. Hugo) ,

6/Aubade (L. Poiney)
\Tristesse (Th. Gautier)

7 fSylvie (P. de Choudens)

J Apres un rdve (R. Bussine)
1 Hymne (Baudelaire)
[Barcarolle (Marc Monnier)

8 fAu bord de Feau (Sully Prudhomme)
1 La Rancon (Baudelaire)

tlci-bas (SuUy Pmdhomme)

Date.
About 1865

Publisher.
Hamelle

10 f"Puisqu*ici-bas (V. Hugo) (duet for two

J Sopranos) . . -

1 Tarentelle (M. Monnier) (duet for two

L Sopranos) -

11 Cantique de Racine (Chorus, mixed voices,

with accpt. for rmrrnonium and * T
quintet) -

12

13
14
15

About f$70

str.

About 1873

Les Djinns (V. Hugo) (Choros for mixed

voices, with orchestral accpt) .. .. Abo&t 1875 ,^*i W Y

(The actual dates of these twa coaiix>sitjoias wcife nsuoi easier.)

Sonata, in A, for piano and violin.. .. W6 Brertfeopf & Hfetti
Concerto for Violin and Orchestra .. 17 Uapoblisied

1st Quartet (C. Minor), piano and strings 1879 ftandk

m

Opus No.

Title.

Date.

Publisher.

16 Berceuse, for piano and violin . . . . 1880 Hamelle

17 3 Romances without words, for piano solo 1883

18 ["Nell (Leconte de Lisle) (G fiat) . . . . About 1880

< Le Voyageur (Armand Silvestre) (F min.)

1. Automne (A. Silvestre) (B min.) .... *

19 Ballade, for piano and orchestra (originally

for piano solo) 1881

20 Suite, for orchestra .. .. " .. .. 1875

Unpublished except
for first movement
see Op. 68
Durand

21 Poeme d un jour (Chu Grandmougin) .. 1881

Rencontre (E maj.)
Toujours (E min.)
Adieu (E maj.)

22 Le Ruisseau, chorus for female voices . . Hamelle

23 f Les Berceaux (Sully Prudhomme) (B flat min.) 1 882

< Notre Amour (A. Silvestre) (E maj.) . .

LLe Secret (A. Silvestre) (D min.) ....

24 Elegy, for piano and violoncello .... 1883

25 1st Impromptu, for piano solo (E flat)

26 1st Barcarolle, for piano solo (A min.)

27/Chanson d amour (A. Silvestre) F maj.)

\La Fee aux Chansons (A. Silvestre) (F maj.)

28 Romance (B flat), for violin and orchestra 1882

29 La Naissance de Venus (P. Collin),

mythological scene for soli, chorus and
orchestra n

30 1st Valse-Caprice (A), for piano solo .. 1883

31 2nd Impromptu (F min.), for piano solo

32 Mazurka, for piano solo .

33 Three Nocturnes (E flat min., B, A flat),

for piano solo

34 3rd Impromptu, (A flat) for piano solo

35 Madrigal (A. Silvestre), vocal quartet (or

chorus) and orchestra 1884

36 4th Nocturne (E flat), for piano solo

37 5th Nocturne (B flat), for piano solo ..

38 2nd Valse-Caprice (D flat), for piano solo. .

39 Aurore (A. Silvestre), (G maj.) ....
Fleur jetee (A. Silvestre) (F min.)

Le Pays des r6ves (A. Silvestre) (A flat) . .
Les Roses d Ispahan (Leconte de Lisle) . .

40 Symphony in D minor Unpublished

41 2nd Barcarolle (G maj.), for piano solo .. 1885 Hamelle

42 3rd Barcarolle (G flat), for piano solo

43 Noel (Victor Wilder) *1886

44 4th Barcarolle (A flat), for piano solo . . "

45 2nd Quartet (G min.), for piano and strings

46 fLes Presents (Villiers de 1 Isle-Adam) (F maj.) 1887
\dair de lune (Paul Verlaine) (B flat min.)

47 ro Salutaris, solo About 1887

\Maria, mater gratiae, duet ....

48 Requiem Mass, for soli, chorus, organ and

orchestra .. .. 1887-88

88

Opus No.

Title.

49 Petite piece, for violoncello and piano

50 Pavane, for orchestra, with chorus ad. lib.

51 f Larmes (J. Richepin) (C min.)

I AU cimetiere (J, Richepin) (D min.)

] Spleen (Verlaine) (D min.)

(^ La Rose (Leconte de Lisle) (F maj.)

Date.

About 1887

1887
About 1889

Publisher.

Unpublished
Hamelle

52

53
54

55
56

64
65

66
67

68

69
70

Incidental music to Caligula, tragedy in 5 8th Nov. 1888
Acts and a Prologue, by Alexander Dumas (Odeon)

Ecce fidelis servus, for soprano, tenor and
baritone, with organ and double bass . .

About 1890

Tantum ergo,
chorus

for tenor solo and 4-part

Dolly, 6 pieces for piano duet (Berceuse ; Hamelle (1st edn.

Mi-a-ou ; Dolly s garden ; Kitty- Valse ; Metzler & Co.,

Tendresse ; le Pas espagnol) .. ,. 1893-96 London)

57 Incidental music to Shylock, drama in 3

Acts, in verse, by Mons. E. Haraucourt 17th -Dec. Hamelle

(after Shakespeare), (Original keys : 1889
Chanson, B flat ; Madrigal, F maj.) . . (Odeon)

58 Five songs, the so-called " Venice " songs,

to words by Verlaine 1890

Mandoline (G) ; En sourdine (E flat) ;
Green (G flat) C est Textase (D. min.) ;
A Clymene (E min.)

59 3rd Valse-Caprice (G flat), for piano solo 1891

60 Quintet, announced under this No. (see Op.

89)

61 La Bonne Chanson (Verlaine) Song cycle . .
(Une sainte en son aureole ; Puisque Taube

grandit ; La Lune blanche ; J allais par
des chemins perfides ; J ai presque peur,
en verite ; Avant que tu ne t*en allies ;
Done, ce sera par un clair jour d ete ;
N est-ce pas ? ; L Hiver a cesse) . . 1891-92

62 . . 4th Valse-Caprice (A flat), for piano solo . . About 1 894

63 6th Nocturne (D flat), for piano solo

63 Hymn to Apollo, Greek Chant of llth
Century B.C., discovered at Delphos by
the French School of Athens. Greek

text reconstituted by H. Weil. Tran- S. Bomernan

scribed by Th. Reinach. Accpt. by (Published also by

Gabriel Faure 1894 Novello)

Ave Verum, duet (or chorus) for female

voices .. Aboutl894

Tantum ergo, Chorus for three female voices

with soli -

5th Barcarolle (F sharp min.), for piano solo About 1 895

Salve Regina, solo .. About 1895

Ave- Maria, solo . . -

Allegro symphonique (first movement of

Op. 20), for orchestra . . . . - . 1875

Romance in A, for violoncello and piano. . About 1895

6th Barcarolle (E flat), for piano solo . . About 1896

Hamelk

Hamelk

Opus No. Title. Date. Publisher.

71 Theme and variations, first announced

under this No. (see Op. 73) .. .. Hamelle

72 Pleurs d or (A. Samain), duet for mezzo-

soprano and baritone . . . : . . About 1896

73 Theme and variations (C sharp min.), for

piano solo 1897

74 7th Nocturne (C sharp min.), for piano solo 1898

75 Andante, for piano and violin (probably

earlier than the date indicated) ....

76 Le Parfum imperissable (Leconte de Lisle)

(E. maj.) 1897

Arpege (A. Samain) (E min.) .... ,,

77 Papillon, for violoncello and piano . . 1898

78 Sicilierme, for violoncello and piano

79 Fantaisie, for flute and piano (written for

the examinations at the Conservatoire)

80 Incidental music to Pelleas et Melisande,

(Maeterlinck), produced at the Prince of

Wales Theatre, London ....

Prelude ; La Fileuse ; Sicilierme ; Molto

Adagio

81 Fileuse (from Pelleas) transcribed for piano

solo by Alfred Cortot f>

82 Promethee, lyric tragedy in 3 Acts, by J.

Lorrain Beziers, and F.-A. Herold . . 27th Aug.

1900

83 /Prison (Verlaine), (E flat min.). (Both probably earlier than this)
\ Soir (A. Samain), (D flat) .. .. 1900

84 8 Short Pieces, for piano solo (Cappricio ;

Fantaisie ; Fugue ; Adagietto ; Impro
visation ; Fugue ; Allegresse ; Nocturne) 1902

85 Dans la foret de Septembre (Catulle Mendes)

(G flat)

La Fleur qui va sur Teau (C. Mendes)

(B min.)

Accompagnement (A. Samain) (G flat) 1903

86 Impromptu, for harp . . . . . . 1904 Durand

87 Le plus doux chemin (A. Silvestre) . . 1904 Hamelkr

88 Incidental music to Le Voile du bonheur, 4th Nov. Unpublished

Play in 2 Acts, by G. Clemenceau . . 1901

89 1st Quintet (E> min.) s for piano and strings 1906 Schirmer

90 7th Barcarolle (D min.), for piano solo . . Heugel

91 4th Impromptu (D min.), for piano solo . . -

92 Le don silencieux (Jean Dominique) . .

93 Ave Maria, duet -

94 Chanson (H. de Regnier) 1907

90

Opus No.
95

Title.

Date.

Publisher.

96

97

98

99

100

101

102

103

104
105
106

107
108
109

110
111
112

La Chanson d Eve (Van Lerberghe), Song
cycle (Paradis ; Prima yerba ; Roses
ardentes ; Comme Dieu rayonne ;
L aube blanche ; Eau vivante ; Veilles-
tu, ma senteur de soleil ? ; D un parfum
de roses blanches ; Crepuscule ; O Mort,
poussiere d etioles)

8th Barcarolle (D min.), for piano solo . .
9th Nocturne (B min,), for piano solo
Serenade, for violoncello and piano
10th Nocturne (E min.), for piano solo . .

9th Barcarolle (A min.), for piano solo . .
5th Impromptu (F sharp min.)

9 Preludes, for piano solo (in D fiat, G min.,
F, D min., E flat min., A, and C min.) . .

1 1th Nocturne (G min.), and 10th Barcarolle
(A min.), for piano solo

llth and 12th Barcarolles (G min., E flat),
for piano solo

Le Jardin clos (Van Lerberghe), Song cycle
(Exaucement ; Quand tu plonges tes
yeux dans mes yeux ; La Messagere ;
Je me poserai sur ton coeur ; Dans la
nymphee ; Dans la penombre ; II
m est cher, amour ; Inscription sur le
sable)

12th Nocturne (E min.), for piano solo . .

2nd Sonata (E min.), for violin and piano

1st Sonata (D min.), for violoncello and

piano

" Une chatelaine en sa tour/* for harp solo
Fantaisie (G maj.), for piano and orchestra

Masques et
orchestra

Bergamasques, Suite for

113 Mirages (Baronne de Brirnont), song cycle ;

(Cygne sur Feau ; Reflets dans Feau ;
Jardin nocturne ; Danseuse)

114 Cest la paix (Mile. Georgette Dubladis) . .

1 15 2nd Quintet, for piano and strings. .

116 13th Barcarolle (C maj.), for piano solo . .

117 2nd Sonata, for violoncello and piano

(G min.)

118 L Horizon chimerique (Jean de la Ville de
. Mirmont,) Song cycle. (La Mer est

infinie ; Je me suis embarqu6 ; Diane,
Selene; Vaisseaux, nous vous aurons
aimes)

1 19 13th Nocturne (B min.), for piano solo . .

120 Trio, for piano, violin and violoncello

121 String quartet

1907-10
1908

1909

1910

1910-11

1913
1914-16

1915(?H8
1916
1917

1918

1919
1920

1919

1919-20

1921

1922

Heugel

Durand

1923
1924

Works without Opus numbers :

En priere (Stephane Bordese) .. .. 1890 Durand

Le Ramier (A. Silvestre) 1904 Hamelle

Vocalise (in vol. 1 of a collection of vocalises

byM. Hcttich) 1907 Leduc

Tantum ergo, for soprano or tenor and

mixed voices 1905 Durand

Tantum ergo, for mezzo-soprano or bari
tone, with unison chorus ad libitum . . 1905 Durand

Tu es Petrus, for baritone solo and mixed

voices . . . , . . . . . - 1 884

Low mass, for three female voices and

organ accpt. 1907 Heugel

(date of
publication)

Penelope, lyric drama in 3 Acts . . . . 1913 Heugel

92

Bibliography

L. Aguettant, " G. Faure " (Lyons, 1924 no pubHsher given).

La genie de Gabnel Faure (Lyons, ** Aux deux collines," 1924).
C. BeUaigue, " Etudes musicales " (3rd Series) (Delagrave, 1907).
Camille Benoit, " Le Requiem de Gabriel Faure "-(Schott and Co., 1888).
A. Bnmeau, " La musique franchise " (Fasquelle, 1901).

" Notice sur la vie et les oeuvres de G. Faure " (read before the Institute,
March 28th, 1925).

V. d Indy, " Cours de composition musicale," 2nd volume (Durand).

Ch. Koechlin, contributions to " 1 Encyclopedie de la musique" (Delagrave).

2nd part, vol. 1 (a) Les tendances de la musique francaise contemporaine ;

(b) Etude sur rharmonie moderne.

J. de Marliave, " Etudes musicales " (F. Alcan).

H. Riemann, " Dictionnaire de musique," translated and revised by G. Humbert
(Perrin, 1899).

Oct. Sere, " Musiciens d aujourd hui " (Mercure de France, 1911).

Ed. Schure, " Profils de musiciens."

L. Vuillemin, " G. Faure, sa vie et son oeuvre," (Durand).

E. Vuillermoz, " Musiques d aujourd hui " (C, Cres., 1923).

" Cinquante annees de musique francaise (Librairie de France, 1924-26) ; articles
by L. Laloy, H. Malherbe, E, Vuillermoz, Ch. Koechlin, P, Hermant, A,
Coeuroy).

Special number of " la Revue musicale/* Oct. 1922.

Books, periodicals, etc. not listed by Koechlin.

(a) French books :

Vladimir Jankelevitch, " Gabriel Faure et ses melodies " (Librairie Plon, Paris).
Philippe Faure-Fremiet, " Gabnel Faure " (Paris).

(These two have been published, since Koechlin s " Faur6 ").

A. Cortot, " French piano music (O.U.P., 1932, translated fay Hilda Andrews).
Andre Coeuroy, " La Musique francaise moderne " (Librairie Delagrave, 1922).

G. Jean-Aubrey, " French music of to-day " (Kegan Paul, 1919, translated by
Edwin Evans).

(6) English reference books and periodicals :

W. W. Cobbett, " Cyclopedic Survey of Chamber Music " (O.U.P., 1929-30
brief summaries of most of the chamber works.

Grove s Dictionary of Music (Macmillan).

Aaron Copland, " Gabriel Faure, a neglected master," article in the " Musical

Quarterly," Oct., 1924.

M. D. Calvocoressi, obituary notice in " Musical Times," Dec,, 1924.
Florent Schmitt, obituary notice in the " Chesterian," Dec., 1924.
Leslie Orrey, two articles on " the songs ** and ** the chamber music,** <4 Musical

Opinion," April-May, 1945.
LesUe Orrey, " Gabriel Faure, 1845-1924," " Musical Times," May, 1945.

" The songs of Oabriel Faure/* " The Music Review," May, 1945.
Norman Suckling, " The songs of Faure," " The Listener," Mar. 15th, 1945.

"Gabriel Faure, Classic of Modern Times/* "The Music

Review," May, 1945.

Norman Suckling, " The Unknown Faur6/ " Monthly Musical Record," May, 1945.
Martin Cooper, " Some Aspects of Faure s Technique," " Monthly Musical Record,"

May, 1945.
Edward Lockspeiser, ** The unknown Faur6," ** Monthly Musical Record," May,

1945.

93

INDEX

Adam, A., 2

Aeschylus, 50, 53, 54, 55, 76
Albert, R, 16
Albert-Doyen, M., 84
Annecy, 14, 15
Ariege, 1
Astruc, G., 11
Aubert, L., 7, 8, 44
Auric, G., 44

Bach, J. S., 2, 29, 40, 43, 64, 65, 68, 70,
71, 73, 74, 75, 77, 79, 80

Actus Tragicus, 78

Cantata, Aus liefer Noth, 26

Mass, B. Min., 74

Chorales, 64, 75, 81, 84

Preludes & Fugues, 2, 35

Pentecost Cantata, 74

Balguerie, Mme., 60

Bardac, Mme. S., 5

Bardac, Mile. Dolly, 34

Barguitiiere, 1

Bathori, Mme, J., 6

Baudelaire, Ch., 19, 20, 71

Baugnies, Mme., 5

Bazin, 2

Beethoven, 40, 42, 69, 79, 80, 81

Eroica Symphony, 42

Symphony No. 5, 42

Symphony No. 7, 46

Quartet No. 14, 83

Quartet No. 15, 62, 84

Quartet No. 16, 84

Benoit, C, 51
Bergeret. 72
Berlioz, 18, 30, 62, 80

VEnfance du Christ, 39

Berthet. R, 8

Beziers, 9, 10, 50, 51, 52, 54, 55

Bizet, 68, 69

V Arlesienne, 68

Carmen, 68

Bordes, Ch., 29
Bossuet, 28

Boulanger, Nadia, 8, 27, 29, 61
Boulay, Mile, J., 7, 8
Bourgault-Ducoudray, 62, 64
Brahms, 17, 79
Breitkopf & HSrtel, 4
Breval, Lucienne, 60
Bnmeau, A., 1, 4

Messtdor, 1

Bussine, R., 19

Campagna, Mile., 8
Carraud, Gaston, 86
Castelbon de Beauxhostes, M., 9
CastiUon, Alexis de, 20
Cellier, U 3
Oiabrier, 6, 33, 34, 64

La Bourre e fantasqtie, 84

Briseis, 81

le Rot malgre M, 65

94

Champs-Elysees Theatre, 11
Chopin, 31, 33, 36, 37, 38, 71, 80

- Preludes, 36
Choudens, P. de, 19
Clemenceau, G., 49
Clignancourt, 3
CoUin, P., 27
Cologne, 3
Colonne, 30

Conservatoire de Paris, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9,

10, 11, 12, 13, 24, 35, 73
Cools, E., 8,

Cortot, A., 32, 33, 36, 38, 46
Croiza, Mme., 6, 60

Dallier, M., 15

Debussy, Claude, 5, 6, 11, 12,. 17, 22,

23, 47, 49, 64, 70, 73, 79, 81, 83,

84,85

- Chansons de Bilitis, Les, 56

- Children s Corner, 34

- Colloque Sentimental) Le, 22

- Ulslejoyeux, 32

- Nocturnes, 49

- Petteas, 25, 27, 47, 60, 65, 70, 85

- Preludes, 32

- Print emps, 61
Debussy, Mme., 5
Defosse, 8
Degas, 12

Dettelbach, Mme., 5
Dietsch, L., 2

D Indy, Vincent, 13, 62, 64, 70
Diibois, Th., 3, 7, 9, 10
Dujardm-Beaumetz, 12
Dukas, Paul, 7, 11,47,70

- Ariane et barbebleue, 60
Dumas, Alexander, 6, 48
Dumas, Mme., 5

Duparc, Henri, 6, 17, 19, 64
-

- U Invitation au voyage, 19, 62, 82
Durand, 12, 38

ficole Niedermeyer, see Niedermeyer

Emmanuel, M., 62

Enesco, G., 7, 8

Enoch, 12

Escalier, Mme. H., 5

Estienne, H., 8

Euripedes, 52, 83

Eustace, M., 70

Exposition universelle, 4, 6

Fauchois, R., 49, 56
Faure, Gabriel Works :

A Clymene, 22, 35

Absent, L\ 19

Accompagnement, 24, 38

Allegro symphonique, 27, 30, 31

Andante, for violin, 46

Apres un reve, 19, 20, 41, 81

Arpege, 5, 6, 18, 24, 76

Au Bord de Veau, 19, 65

Au Cimetiere, 6, 21, 62, 77, 78

Aubade, 19, 21, 74

^wm/-e, r, 19, 21, 36, 37, 74

Automne, 4, 20

Avant que tu ne fen allies, 23

ylve Maria, 29

Ballade, 4, 30, 31, 32

Barcarolle (song), 6, 19, 20, 71, 77

Barcarolles (piano solo), 6, 32, 33,

36, 37-38

Berceaux, Les, 20, 43
Berceuse, 5, 46

Bonne Chanson, La, 5, 12, 17, 18, 22,
23, 24, 25, 27, 29, 31, 33, 35, 36,

37, 38, 39, 42, 43, 44, 47, 53, 58,
64, 65, 69, 74, 80

Caligula, 6, 7, 10, 26, 30, 37, 48, 50,

64,70

Cantique de Racine, Le, 3, 18, 26
Vest Vextase, 22, 35, 37, 69, 73
Chanson, 24
Chanson d amour, 20
Chanson d ve, La, 11, 12, 13, 17,

22, 24-25, 36, 38, 55, 74, 76, 77
Chanson dupecheur, 18
Chant d* Automne, Le, 17, 18, 19, 20,

71,81
Clair de lime, 5, 6, 17, 21, 24, 31, 49,

63, 71, 74
Crepuscule, 25, 38
Dans la nymphle, 18, 25, 73
Danseuse, 25, 74, 76, 77
Djinns, Les, 7, 26, 27, 31, 70
Dolly, 6, 32, 34, 37, 46, 68, 73
Don silencieux, Le, 24, 70
Done, ce sera par un dair jour, 23
legie, 15, 44, 46, 74, 78
En Priere,, 12, 17, 21
En sourdine, 22, 35
Fantaisie, for Flute and Piano, 46
Fantaisie, for Piano and Orchestra, 1 1,

30, 31-32, 35, 68

Fee aux Chansons, La, 20, 24, 65
Fileuse, La, 46, 49, 73
Flew jete*e, 21, 70, 75
Fleur qui va sur Veau, La, 24
Foret de Septembre, La, 9, 10, 17, 24,

38, 42, 44, 70, 74
Green, 23

Hiver a cessg, L\ 23, 44

Horizon chimeriqjue, L\ 15, 26, 45, 74

Hymne, 19, 20

Hymne a Appolton y 23

Ici-bas, 20

Impromptu, for Harp, 33, 46

Impromptus (Piano solo), 32, 33

Inscription sur le sable* 19, 25, 62,

76,78

Fai presque peur> 23
T aliens par des chemins p&rfides* 23
Jardm clos, Le, 11, 12, 19, 25, 38, 55,

62, 73, 77

Je me paserai sur ton coeur, 25, 38, 77
Lamento, Le y 17, 18," 77, 85
Larmes, 6, 21

Low Mass, 29

Lime blanche, La, 23

Lydia, 10, 17, 18, 19, 20, 24, 29

Madrigal, 1, 22, 48, 49, 65

Madrigal a 4 voix, 26

Mai, 18

Mandoline, 22, 24, 46, 65, 76

Maria, Mater gratias, 28

Masques et bergamasques, 30, 49

Matelots, Les, 17, 18

Mazurka, 32, 33

Melodes " de Yenisei 6, 22, 42

Mirages, 11, 12,25,74

Naissance de Vtnus, La, 27, 30, 70

Nell, 4, 17, 20, 24, 36, 65, 68, 74

N*Est ce past, 23, 36

Nocturne (song), 6, 21, 48

Nocturnes (Piano solo), 6, 32, 33, 35,

36-40, 76, 77
1st Nocturne, 68
6th Nocturne, 6, 22, 35, 77
1th Nocturne, 10, 34, 35, 36, 38, 75
9th Nocturne, 36, 38
13th Nocturne, 78
No.tr e amour, 18, 20
O Mort, poussiere d^toiles, 25, 78, 81
O Salutaris, 28
Papillons (Cello), 46
Papillon et lafleur, La, 3, 18
Parfum imperissable, Le, 7, 9, 17, 18,

22, 24, 27, 68, 71, 73, 75
Pavane, 26, 49

Pays des rves, Le, 20, 21, 63
Petteas et Metisande, 9, 15, 30, 46,

49, 69, 70, 71, 73, 84
Penelope, 4, 9, 11, 12, 13, 27, 30, 32,

36, 37, 43, 44, 47, 48, 49, 51, 55-60,

68, 70, 74, 75, 76, 77, 80, 84
1st Piano Quartet, 5, 6, 41-42, 46, 68
2nd Piano Quartet, 6, 21, 37, 41-42
1st Piano Quintet, U, 35, 39, 42-43,

45, 68, 76
2nd Piano Quintet, 13, 14, 24, 29, 33,

35, 43, 44-45, 68, 70, 74, 76, 78, 79,

80,84

Piano Trio, 13, 14, 45, 78
Pieces breves, 32, 34-35
Pleurs d or, 6, 22, 26
Plus doux chemin, Le, 24
Poeme d unjour, 12, 20, 70
Preludes, 32, 35-36, 40
Prelude, D min., 36, 46, 74,|75
Prelude, F maj,, 65
Prelude, No. 1, 37
Presents, Les, 6, 21
Prison, 22, 24, 65, 74
PromtMe, 9-10, 23, 24, 27, 29, 30,

31, 34, 36, 39, 43, 47, 50-55, 56,

65, 69, 70, 71, 74, 75, 76, 77, 82,

84,85

Puisqtfici bos, 26
Puisque Vaube grandit, 23, 69
Quadrille te tratogique, 73, 74
Rarrder,Le, 24
Rancon, La, 20

95

Requiem, 6, 7, 15, 28, 30, 35, 36, 37,

40, 46, 62, 64, 65, 68, 74, 78
Reve d* amour, 17, 19, 70
Romance (Cello), 46
Romance (Violin and Orchestra), 46
Romances sans paroles, 32, 33, 36
Rose, La, 10, 17, 22, 24, 27, 30, 65, 77
Roses d Ispahan, Les, 21, 24, 43, 62,

65

Ruines d^une Abbaye, Les, \ 8
Ruisseau, Le> 7, 26, 33, 65
Salve Regina, 29
Secret, Le, 20, 43, 63
Serenade, 22, 48, 63
Serenade (Cello), 46
Serenade Toscane, La, 17, 18, 19, 71,

85

Seule, 18, 29
Shylock, 6, 7, 15, 22, 30, 37, 46, 48,

49, 71

Sicilienne (Cello and Orchestra), 46
Soir, 6, 22, 24, 26, 37, 51, 64
Spleen, 6, 17, 21, 22, 74, 78
String Quartet, 13, 14, 15, 39, 45, 74
Suite (Orchestra), 6, 30, 31
Syhie, 17, 19

Symphony, D min., 6, 30, 43
Tantum ergo, 29
Tarentelle, 19, 26
Theme et variations, 9, 10, 32, 34, 37

38,73

Tristesse, 17, 19
Tu est Petrus, 29

Une sainte en son aureole, 23, 65, 69
Valses-Caprices, 32, 33, 34, 37, 73
Violin Concerto, 6, 30
1st Violin Sonata, 4, 5, 41, 43, 81
2nd Violin Sonata, 11, 13, 23, 35, 36,

42, 43-44, 45, 49, 51, 55
Violoncello Sonatas, 29, 44
Violoncello Sonatas, No. 1, 11
Violoncello Sonatas, No. 2, 14
Voile du bonheur, le, 49
Voyageur, Le, 20

^, 1

Faure, Mme., 5
Faur-Fremiet, M., 71
Fetes du Peuple, 84
F6tes galantes, 22
Fevrier H., 8
Figaro, Le, 9, 71
Foix, 1
Franck, Cesar, 2, 5, 6, 12, 30, 46, 64, 83

- Les Beatitudes, 30
- - Violin Sonata, 41
Francois 1st, 13
Franco-Prussian War, 3
Fremiet, M., 5

- Mile. Marie, 5
Frescobaldi, 71
Freud, S., 72

Gaillac-Toulza, 1
Gautier, Th., 18
Gedalge, A.,8, 11

75

Gigout, E., 2

Gounod, 18, 29, 34, 62, 64, 71
72, 80, 83, 85

Faust, 18, 47, 72, 83, 85

Venise, 18, 83

Greek influence, 10, 55, 76
Gregorian Modes, 2, 23, 62, 80
Grieg, 51
Griset, J. 7
Grovlez, G., 8
Guiraud, 11

Hahn, R., 36, 73
Halevy, 2

Hamelle, 4, 20, 22, 38
Handel, 40
Haraucourt, E., 6, 48
Haydn, 40, 42
Herold, A-F., 50

Le Prg-aux-Clercs, 62

Herold, L.
Herscher, Mme., 8
Hettich, M., 27
Heugel, 12, 24, 38
Hindemith, P., 79
Horace, 19

Hugo, Victor, 19, 24, 26, 70
Hippodrome (Paris), 50
Iliad, The, 55

Imbert, H.,1, 51
Institute, L% 5, 7, 12, 61
Italy, 18, 21

Jazz, 25

Klingsor, 71

Koechlin, Ch., 8

tude sur Vharmonie moderne, 63

Ladmirault, P., 8
Laleine-Laprade, 1
Lalo, 5, 64
Lalo, Noemi, 39
Laloy, L., 34
Lamoureux, 30
Laparra, R., 7, 8
Lassus, Orlando di, 64
Laval, Jeanne, 15
Le Boucher, 8, 15
Leconte de Lisle, 19, 24
Leduc, 27
Leit-motif, 58
Lenepyeu, 8, 68
Lepine, Mile. Fanny, 6
Liszt, 1, 70

Faust Symphony, 70

London, 9, 49
Lorrain, J., 50
Lyre Bitteroise, 9, 10

Madeleine, Tne, 2, 3, 6, 9, 15

Maeterlinck, 9

Maillot, M. et Mme., 14

Matherbe, E., 8

Masse, Victor, 2

Massenet, 2, 7, 8, 9, 11, 12, 64, 71

Manon, 7, 64

Masson, L., 8
Maurice, P., 7, 8
Maurin, 4
Mazellier, 8
Mendelssohn, 33, 36, 71

Midsummer Nighfs Dream, 31

Messager, A., 3, 73
Meunier, 8
Meyerbeer, 2
Midi, Le, 10, 13,21
Millerand, A., 13, 14
Miolan-Carvalho, Mme., 3
Monnier, Marc, 19, 26, 37
Montgauzy, 1
Monte Carlo, 1 1
Montpellier, 9, 10
Morpain, J., 8

Mozart, 40, 41, 42, 49, 65, 68, 69, 73,
79, 81

Cost fan tutte, 49

Fugue, for String Quartet, 64

Figaro, 47

Jupiter Symphony, 42

Munich, 3
Muratore, M., 60
Mussorgsky, Boris Godounov, 47
Manage, 81

Narbonne, 10

Nice, 13

Niedermeyer, 1, 2, 3, 62, 82, 83

Le Lac, 1

Odeon, Le, 6, 7
Opera, L (Paris), 50
Opera-Comique, L , 60

Paladilhe, 12

Palestrina, 64

Pamiers, 1

Panzera, Ch., 15

Pasdeloup, 30

Passy, 15

Plainsong, 21, 80

Polignac, Princesse de, 6

Pomey, L., 19

Poueigh, J., 51

Poulenc, F., 44

Prince of Wales Theatre (London), 9

Prix de Rome, Le, 5, 9, 47

Prokofiev, S., 79

Puccini, G., 71

Madame Butterfly, 60

Rabaud, M., 11,34,70
Rameau^47, 64
Raunay, Mme., J,, 6
Ravel, Maurice, 8, 11, 81, 83

Gaspard de nuit, 32

LHewe espagnol, 85

Pavane, 61

Reber, 63, 65
Regnier, H. de, 24
Reinach, M., 23
Remacle, Jeanne, 5, 23
Renan, 29
Rennes, 3

Revue Hlustrde, La, 51

Revue musicale, La, 2, 3, 10, 18, 27, 29,

32, 40, 61
Reyer, 12

Rochegrosse, M., 56
Rodin, 12
Roger, Therese, 5
Roger-Ducasse, 8, 15, 44
Roujon, Mme., 12
Rousseliere, 51
Rousseau, J-J. S 14
Rubens, 81

Saint-Augustin, 2
Saint-Honore d Eylau, 3
Saint-Gervais, 29
Saint-Marceau, Mme,, 5
Saint-Saens, C, 2, 3, 4, 7, 9, 18, 20, 31,
32, 33, 62, 64, 66, 71, 76, 79, 82

Ascanio, 83

Melodies persanes, 35

Rouet d Omphale, 49

Samson and Delilah, 3, 4

Henry VHIth, 82

Saint-Sulpice, 3

Samain, A., 6, 22, 26

San Francisco (Berkeley University), 55

Sanderson, Mile. Germaine, 6

Sargent, 71

Satie, Erik, 83

Sarabandes, 70

Schirmer, 12, 42
Schola Cantorum, 12, 13, 83
Schonberg, A., 75
Schubert, 17

Margaret at the Spinning-Wheel, 1 1

The Er I King, 11

Schumann, 2, 17, 33, 34, 41
Schmitt, Florent, 7, 8, 30
Sere, O., 51
Shakespeare, 6
Silvestre, A., 20, 24, 26
Societe Musicale

Independante (S.M.I.X 12, 13, 15
Societe Nationale, 5, 6, 7, 12, 13, 30
Sorbonne, The, 13, 25, 26
Strauss, R., 79

Salome, 48

Stravinsky, I., 75, 79, 83, 84

Histoire du soldat, 76

Pulcinella, 79

Le Sacre de Printemps, 11

Sully-Prudhomme, 19

Thomas, Ambroise, 5, 7, 80

Mignon, 5

Tosti, Paolo, 71
Toussaint, Fr., 71
Tremisot, E., 8
Tritone, The, 18, 37, 85
Tschaikowsky, Pathetic Symphony, 79
Turgeneff, 4

Valery, Paul, 26
Van Lerberghe, 25, 77
Venice, 6, 19, 71

79

Verlaine, Paul, 6, 19, 22, 23, 26, 33, 49, Wagner, 2, 30, 31, 52, 58, 70, 72, 7,3

51,58,73,85 74,80,83

Verniolles, 1 Mastersingers, 84

Viardot Family, 4 Tfte Ring, 3, 52

Viardot, Claudie, 26 Rhinegold ,3

Viardot, Marianne, 4, 26 Tristan^ 47, 58, 64

Viardot, Pauline, 4 Twilight of the Gods, 55

Vigny, Alfred de, 31 Valkvrie 3

ViHe de la Mirmont, H. de la, 26 wntfeai 22

Villiers de 1 Isle-Adam, 21, 48 w^r *A

Vinci, Leonardo da, 13, 72, 81 wT r h tf ^

VuiUermoz, Emil, 8, 9, 14, 40, 51, 61, Widor, Ch. M., 3

65,69

106910