Aufführungsbesprechung London: “Oberon” von Carl Maria von Weber am 12. April 1826 (UA)

Theatrical Examiner

ON Wednesday evening last, the long-expected opera of Oberon was produced at this theatre to a numerous and highly-excited audience, assembled in full reliance both on the genius of the Composer and the exertions that would be made to set it off to the best advantage. It is scacely necessary to say, that the story on which the present piece is founded has been borrowed from the brilliant poem by the celebrated Wieland, entitled Huon of Bourdeaux, now well known to the English reader by the elegant translation of Mr Sotheby*. According to Mr Planche, the German poet borrowed his plan and personages from a tale in the famous collection of French romances, La Bibliotheque Bleue; while a critic in the Morning Cronicle asserts, that he principally availed himself of the incidents of an older romance on the same subject. The following is a brief sketch of the operatic story: –

The liability of matrimony to very pertinacious differences of opinion seems to be universal, extending even to Fairy Land. Oberon, the monarch of that fantastic domain, has a dispute with his Queen Titania on the subject of male and female constancy. It is the unalterable belief of her Elfin Majesty, that it is the property of woman alone “to love, and love for ever;” which self-evident proposition her royal husband treats with infinite derision. As will sometimes happen on earth, one word produces another, until the royal pair separate in mutual disgust, and the waspish Monarch very roundly swears that he will listen to no suit for a “restitution of conjugal rights,” until –

Having formed this awful resolution, and thereby placed the fair Titania out of his reach, the conjugal love of his fairy Majesty instantly becomes fierce again; and he is in the highest degree anxious to discover a pair of mortal turtle doves who will enable him to recal the beauteous wife of his bosom. Sir Huon of Guienne, and Reiza, daughter of the Caliph of Bagdat, are ordained by “fate and metaphysical aid,” to fulfil the required conditions. The knight, having killed one of the sons of the Emperor Charlemagne in combat, that potent Sovereign swears by his mustachios that he will only grant him life on condition that he seek the court of the Caliph Haroun Alraschid, kill the man who sits upon his right hand, and claim his daughter as his bride. The poem makes the trifting addition of a lock of the Caliph’s beard, and four of his front teeth, as part of the sine qua non; but modern sentiment has induced the dramatist to dispense with so discourteous an infliction from the hands of a knightly son-in-law. The undaunted Paladin immediately sets out on his curious adventure; and the opera opens with his being met by Oberon, who promises him the necessary assistence to accomplish it, and bestows upon him a horn of such mighty power, that it will supply adequate aid, however great the danger. Not only so, he predisposes the lovers into a mutual passion by correspondent dreams, and at once transports the gallant knight to Bagdat. The rest may be more briefly discussed. By means of the horn, which luckily occupies a station on the Caliph’s right hand, he bears away the Princess. A shipwreck ensues; for their constancy must be proved by adversity; ¦ the Princess, escaping from the waves, is carried off by pirates, and sold to the Emir of Tunis, who immediately falls in love with her while his favourite Sultana entertains a mutual esteem for Huon, – who, aware of the place of his mistress’s captivity, has obtained access into the royal grounds as a gardener’s slave. The faithful lovers resist both the threats and blandishments of their several tempters, until finally condemned to be burnt alive. Happily, however, when the preparations are complete, and the lovers bound to the stake, the ivory horn which had been lost in the shipwreck, is restored to Huon’s faithful squire Sherasmin, who blows it at the critical instant the pile is about to be lighted. The result is a sudden inclination to dance, on the part of every creature in the whole city of Tunis, including Emir, guards, executioners, eunuchs, and negro slaves. A louder blast brings Oberon in person, with his fair Titania, the constancy of the lovers having fulfilled the Monarch’s oath. Of course, in the plenitude of his royal gratitude, he immediately transports the lovers to France, to the assembled court of the warlinke Charlemagne, who courteously receives the obedient Paladin and his bride, and the piece concludes.

Although possibly unnessary to a great part of our readers, especially as the Oberon of Drury lane* is founded on the same story, we have deemed the foregoing sketch useful, as nothing but an adequate acquaintance with the plot would convey a due notion of the very imaginative nature of the material on which the genius of the composer has been exercised. We need not say that it is a style of the supernatural, essentially distinguished from that of Der Freischutz. There is a comparative substantiality in the demonism of the latter, which renders it of much easier general apprehension, to say nothing of the aid afforded by the lore of traditionary superstition. The half-religious notions connected with the demoniacal action in Der Freischutz, eceedingly tends to fix attention, which is still further concentrated by the greater unity and singleness of interest in the story. The fantastic interference of a fairy king is quite another affair, bespeaking from the composer a sort of dalliance with the mind and the imagination, essentially distinct from the darkly wild and mysterious associations so finely excited by the music of Der Freischutz. He has so felt it; the predominant musical character of Oberon, while it preserves that fine feeling of the wild and mystical which is so striking a characteristic of the imaginative powers of Baron Weber, is light, brilliant, and cheerful. It is impossible to conceive anything more felicitous than the accompaniment to all the fairy transactions, or better calculated to attune the mind to a temporary admission of the reality of an existence so fantastical. In this province he is indisputably unrivalled, and if the Oberon fall short in point of general attraction of the Der Freischutz on this score, it will simply arise, as already stated, from the airy and incompressible nature of fairy spirituality, as compared with the more palpable Satanic agency, to a notion of which, creed and education has given a sort of artificial reality. In a great majority of heads, our composer will have to implant his fairies; he has found a beau-ideal of the devil already formed in them all.

To descend to particulars: the Ouverture, is conformity with what we have already written, having to deal in lighter elements, falls short of that of Der Freischutz in deep and powerful effect. It commences, however, with great spirit and delicary, and the introduction of the horn succeeded by a beautiful allegro passage, was much applauded. The whole indeed was encored with great vehemence, but we suspect with much less of real animus than of a remnant of anticipative enthusiasm. The opera opens with a chorus of fairies, in Oberon’s bower, a beautifully painted scene by Grieve*; but the glory of the first act is a scena given to Huon, which was admirably sang by Braham. It is a song of exulting chivalry; a crusader’s triumph descriptive of the defeat of the Paynim, the victory of the cross, the moan of “the maids of Palestine,” and the “joy of the high-born dames of France,” very respectable as poetry; and in regard to music, in a high degree rich, appropriate, and various. It made a great impression, and was loudly encored. The finale of this act ist also very fine; a joyous air in the course of it by Miss Paton in particular, who delivered it in very fine taste. In the second act, a sort of double duet, or quartette, occurs between Miss Paton, Madame Vestris, Braham and Isaacs, which is at once felicitous both in its harmony and melody, and will probably become exceedingly popular; it was loudly encored. An admirable display of stage mechanism follows: the scene presents a ravine amongst the rocks of a desolate island, wherein Puck (Miss H. Cawse) invokes the spirits of the elements to raise a storm to wreck the lovers. After a musical invocation of peculiar beauty and delicacy, in the twinkling of an eye the rock opens in numerous places, and from each aperture appears a grotesque spirit with a flaming torch, the stage being similarly filled at the same time, all of whom in a grand and most impressive chorus, demand the reason of the summons. The music assigned to four brief | lines, which after being answered, are intended as a derisive laugh on the part of the spirits at the pettiness of the task assigned them, affords a remarkable specimen of the peculiar genius of Weber for the supernatural. It is laughter-hearty laughter, but without a touch of humanity about it. This admirably managed scene subsequently divides in the centre, and moves off, spirits and all. That which follows, discovers Huon und Rezia wrecked on a desolate shore. The knight departing to seek for succour, leaves the Princess alone. The storm gradually subsides; the darkness clears away; the sun slowly breaks out, diffusing, – as we understand by some adoption of the principle of the Diorama, – a real light on the becalmed waters; on the bosom of which a distant sail appears. All these appearances, which are managed with admirable scenie skill, form the subject of a scena sung by Miss Paton, as they occur, with exceeding taste and execution. This act concludes with a moonlight ball of fairies on the sea shore, to whom the mermaids and sea-nymphs also afford their good company. It discourses some very light and fanciful music, especially from the mouth of one of the mermaids (Miss Goward), as an imaginative scene, is really exquisitely beautiful.

With the third act we must be brief: it is musically distinguished by a polacca by Braham, and singulary pleasing song by Fatima (Madame Vestris) “O Araby, dear Araby,” which we expect will prove a general favourite. Nothing could be more sweetly sung than both this and everything else entrusted to this lady, whose performance too possessed all her usual naivetè. Some very spirited acting of Miss Paton in rejection of the overtures of the Emir (Cooper) also roused no small degree of attention in this act. We like this ambition in singers, although some critical Pococurantes affect to decry it. We have already described the conclusion of the piece, and have only add that the farewell of Oberon is the best thing done by his representative, Mr Bland, who is certainly not altogether at home in majesty.

We can only find room to add, that all the performers visibly exerted themselves; although some are not well suited with parts, as for instance, Fawcett, Mrs Davenport, and Miss Lacy, as Sherasmin, Namouna, and the Sultana of Tunis, who have little scope afforded them. Braham acted as well as he could, and sang with great gusto; and Miss Paton possibly never appeared to greater advantage. The scenery may be unequivocally discribed as excellent, and the splendour and brilliancy of the dress and decoration are correspondent. As to the production as a drama, Mr Planche has been very respectable in the poetry; and prose seldom appears to much advantage when thus overpowered by imagination and fancy, in the garb of verse and music. Possibly also there is a want of human interest in the story; for dangers which we know before hand are to be supernaturally surmounted, afford little scope for the pathos of incident, whatever it may leave for that of expression. We feel alarmed for nobody; the affections and sympathies are quiescent: no small disadvantage, whatever the attraction in other respects.

To conclude: whatever may be the comparative musical popularity of this opera, that it displays fancy, elegance, and genius, is a positive proposition which we conjecture that few will be hardy enough to contest. In brilliant and tasteful scenic display, it has probably never been excelled; and altogether the evident expectation of the management can scarcely be disappointed. On this evening, the house was crowded to suffocation, and with that bear-like-kindness which hugs to death what embraces, Weber was called on the stage to be applauded. We never saw the shrinking and sensitive character of real genius more pointedly represented than in his bow on this occasion. It exclaims, “O your sweet voices” almost as significantly as Coriolanus, although in a very different manner. These braying requisitions are very discreditable, and ought to be put an end to. Q.