'Mala Vita,' Spinelli's 'A Basso Porto,'
and Tasca's 'A Santa Lucia'!

"The stories chosen for operatic treatment by the champions of verismo
are all alike. It is their filth and blood which fructifies the music,
which rasps the nerves even as the plays revolt the moral stomach. I
repeat: Looking back over the time during which this so-called veritism
has held its orgies, 'Cavalleria Rusticana' seems almost classic. Its
music is highly spiced and tastes 'hot i' th' mouth,' but its eloquence
is, after all, in its eager, pulsating, passionate melody--like the
music which Verdi wrote more than half a century ago for the last act
of 'Il Trovatore.' If neither Mascagni himself nor his imitators have
succeeded in equalling it since, it is because they have thought too
much of the external devices of abrupt and uncouth change of modes and
tonalities, of exotic scales and garish orchestration, and too little
of the fundamental element of melody which once was the be-all and
end-all of Italian music. Another fountain of gushing melody must be
opened before 'Cavalleria rusticana' finds a successor in all things
worthy of the succession. Ingenious artifice, reflection, and technical
cleverness will not suffice even with the blood and mud of the slums as
a fertilizer."

How Mascagni came to write his opera he has himself told us in a bright
sketch of the early part of his life-history which was printed in the
"Fanfulla della Domenica" of Rome shortly after he became famous.
Recounting the story of his struggle for existence after entering upon
his career, he wrote:--

In 1888 only a few scenes (of "Ratcliff") remained to be composed; but
I let them lie and have not touched them since. The thought of
"Cavalleria rusticana" had been in my head for several years. I wanted
to introduce myself with, a work of small dimensions. I appealed to
several librettists, but none was willing to undertake the work without
a guarantee of recompense. Then came notice of the Sonzogno competition
and I eagerly seized the opportunity to better my condition. But my
salary of 100 lire, to which nothing was added, except the fees from a
few pianoforte lessons in Cerignola and two lessons in the Philharmonic
Society of Canosa (a little town a few miles from Cerignola), did not
permit the luxury of a libretto. At the solicitation of some friends
Targioni, in Leghorn, decided to write a "Cavalleria rusticana" for me.
My mind was long occupied with the fin