The seventies – oil crises, three-day weeks, the winter of discontent, terrifying public safety information films where children are electrocuted – oh wait – we aren’t talking about Britain in the 1970s. Saint-Saens’ 1870s rather comprised a mixture of extreme gratifying success with opera, financial wealth, and invitations aplenty – but also familial tragedy with the loss of both sons, and the collapse of his marriage. As a mature composer from the age of 35 at the beginning of the decade, Saint-Saens was now firmly placed in the musical establishment, respected in France and abroad (particularly England). But what, you ask, would be the best music of his to listen to from this decade. Following similar run downs in 2016 (the 1850s) and 2020 (the 1860s), it’s now 2024 and we’ve reached the end of the 1870s. My favourite ten piece that I’ve listened to (Spotify playist below also)- here we go…
10. Si vous n’avez rien à me dire – One of Saint-Saens’ many songs about unrequited love (reflecting his own lack of success with women mostly), this 1870 song typifies a particular style of song at which he excelled. The ‘time-standing still’ gentle romance. Highly peaceful, although the lyrics by Victor Hugo have a strangely bitter twinge to them that creates a “I-hate-you-I-love-you-I-hate-you-I-love-you” vibe.
9. Samson et Dalila – Saint-Saens’ best-known opera has a couple of absolute outstanding moments that are justly regularly played on classic music stations world-wide. Dalila’s aria “mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix” and the final act Bacchanale (which I learnt doing this blog is remarkably close to the end of the opera, being the prelude effectively to the final scene). The only reason I don’t rank it higher (and I think this is a really good opera) is that some of the rest of music (while very good and tight) is not quite as memorable. That, and I don’t like long hair.
8. La Princess Jaune – Aside from Samson et Dalila, there were two other operas written by Saint-Saens in the 1870s. The less said about turgid pseudo-historical biopic Etienne Marcel the better, but I’m a big fan of the shorter 1-act comedy, La Princess Jaune (these days translated as The Japanese Princess). Essentially the story is about a guy who takes some drugs and has hallucinations about a beautiful Oriental Princess who is a picture on the wall. What this does give is Saint-Saens free reign to write his version of exotic-sounding ‘the promise of the east’-type music. Sure it’s about as authentically eastern as Fry’s Turkish Delight, but it makes for an entertaining 50 minutes (and about 8 minutes of that is the overture!),
7. Gavotte in C minor – Saint-Saens’s solo piano output is fairly intermittent throughout his career, but the 1870s saw a number of pieces – many influenced by a pseudo-baroque sensibility. Some try a little too hard and are fairly dry and academic, but the best of them is this spiky gavotte, with a grumpy main tune and then a very carillion-like and contrasting C major middle section. It’s fun to play, though I suspect not that much fun to dance to.
6. Piano Quartet No. 1 in B flat major – Actually NOT his first piano quartet, because there is a very early E major quartet that runs out of steam. Not so here with this mature work, which many1 rate as Saint-Saens’s greatest piece of chamber music (of the ones I’ve heard so far I would rate the first Piano Trio more highly). What is unusual is that, despite its key signature, the majority of the work is in a minor key and spiky – but the whole is framed by lovely and tranquil bookends.
5. Marche Heroique – the 1870s saw the production of the majority of Saint-Saens short form symphonic poems – clearly inspired by Liszt’s model. Most of them are interesting in parts, but not very memorable on slightly turgid classical themes – Phaeton, La Jeunesse d’Hercule, and Spartacus. Le Rouet D’Omphale has more going for it, and is more regularly played. But the hidden gem in here is for the Marche Heroique, written as a fund-raiser to support the soldiers in the Franco-Prussian war. It has a jaunty outward march, framing a completely contrasting middle section in triple time with a mournful trombone solo, before rousing itself for the ending. That it was the piece played at Saint-Saens’ own funeral should tell you that this is a great piece of work that is bizarrely neglected these days.
4. Melodies Persanes – one of very few song cycles that Saint-Saens wrote, but this combines several of Saint-Saens strength. Inspiration from eastern melodies and harmonies, time-stands-still gentleness, lush harmonies. The orchestrated version (Nuit Persanes) is perhaps my favourite version, although the original six songs for voice and piano are wonderful also. My favourite of the six is Au cimitière (in the cemetary), which does indeed sound like something to be sung in the dark.
3. Romance for Horn in F – I’m a big fan of Saint-Saens’s numerous short instrumental works. Why is this form of music so out of favour in the concert hall at the moment? The romance for horn, actually written (unusually for the 1870s) for natural horn (i.e. without valves/keys), is a beautiful melody, simultaneously sad but hopeful. It’s not virtuosic, just simple and affecting. The orchestral version is also well worth the listen.
2. Romance for Violin in C – I told you I was a big fan. This slightly pips the Horn romance because it’s got a bit more development and the violin part is perhaps more interesting – but again it’s got an absolutely beautiful melody accompanied by some very delicate and perfectly judged orchestration. It would be perfectly possible to put together three of Saint-Saens’s violin single movement works to fill out a concerto slot in a concert program. I’m sure it would be a hit.
1. Danse Macabre – Hardly a left-field choice, but Danse Macabre really is justified in being one of Saint-Saens best known works. Sitting halfway between a violin concertante work and a symphonic poem, and based on an 1872 song of the same name, the orchestral version of Danse Macabre is just a piece of brilliance – a fun concept (an orgy of death), an enormously memorable couple of tunes, clever use of the Dies Irae plainsong them, and that spiky violin line with the devil’s fifth in it. I never tire of this piece of music – it always makes me turn up the radio when it comes on – and my sons sing it around the house for days afterwards. Don’t be snobbish about it, Danse Macabre is almost a perfect piece of music.
Join me in another four years for a look at the 80s – miners’ strikes, Perestroika, space shuttles…oh, I’ve done it again haven’t I?
1 Meaning, I couldn’t be bothered to look up – but I’m sure I read it.