Zola’s works for the musical stage Jean-Sébastien Macke Centre Zola (ITEM-CNRS) Zola met the composer Alfred Bruneau in 1888, and this meeting marked the beginning of a long and close friendship as well as a creative collaboration between the two. Studies of the works of Alfred Bruneau generally deal only with his operas written during Zola’s lifetime and in close association with him, a period which was indeed the most productive and the richest in bold in-novation. But lyric naturalism, although it originated at that time, did not end with the death of the writer in 1902. Bruneau suffered profound grief at the loss of his friend, even thinking of abandoning his career. However, he got through this difficult time, and after composing the music of Lazare , he decided to continue to seek his musical inspiration in the works of Zola. Three lyrical dramas, Naïs Micoulin , La Faute de l’abbé Mouret and Les Quatre Journées, emerged in Monte Carlo at the Odéon and the Opéra-Comique between 1907 and 1916. They were followed by other subjects, which did not get beyond the libretto stage: Miette et Silvère and La Fête à Coqueville. With these new lyric dramas, Alfred Bruneau became his own librettist, thus fulfilling a desire that Zola had expressed some years earlier, to have one person as both librettist and musician. Lyric naturalism was thus able to continue after the death of one of its creators, and even to reach a sort of apotheosis in La Faute de l’abbé Mouret, produced in the Théâtre-Libre by André Antoine, who established the credentials of Naturalist drama. This was the beginning of a new era for Bruneau. Close study of this period shows how lyric naturalism was able to survive and evolve at the beginning of the twentieth century, and sheds light on some little-known texts and musical scores, giving new life to a musical practice that disappeared in the ruins of the First World War. Bruneau had barely finished writing La Faute de l’abbé Mouret when he had a new idea for an opera. He decided to set to music Une page d’amour, the eighth volume of the Rougon-Macquart series. This novel had already been adapted for the stage, so the rights associated with the subject needed careful attention. The project was re-launched by an American actress, Miss Nethersole, who was eager to take it on, but first the copyright issues had to be explained to Madame Zola, and her permission obtained. The prospect of conquering America, after reaching across Europe and into Russia, opened up new perspectives for Bruneau. Full of enthusiasm, he re-read Zola’s novel: ‘I spent all Sunday reading the book [...]. It is prodigiously splendid and has a penetrating and haunting sadness about it. How the devil did an American actress come to fall in love with such a subject ?’ 1 However, the composer immediately saw difficulties ahead, like how to get the child, an absolutely essential character, on to the stage, and also the tableaux of Paris scattered through the book : ’How difficult this is to put on in the theatre! There is a tremendous child role. Where will we find someone to act the part?’ In the end the plan would not come to fruition, but it clearly shows how Bruneau still remained just as enthusiastic and open to all suggestions in order to continue his work in homage to Emile Zola. Lazare , the vicissitudes of a creation (1902-1986) Pedro Gailhard advised Bruneau to produce Lazare for concert performance, leaving open the possibility of a later staging. But that was not what Bruneau had in mind. Soon after Zola’s death, when he returned to the composition of the score, he imagined a grandiose production in an opera worthy of the im-portance of the subject. A first notion was to propose Lazare for the Munich Opera House. Bruneau was in fact in that city in the early part of 1903, putting on Messidor . Rehearsals went very well indeed; the orchestra was excellent and the resources put into the production were simply enormous, so he mentioned the idea to Zumpe, the conductor of the Orchestra of the Munich Opera, to whom he outlined the story of Lazare , suggesting that he might put it on at the Munich Opera House. However, Bruneau wrote in January 1903: [...] unfortunately there is a law in Germany against presenting Jesus in the theatre. But he [Zumpe] was staggered at the magnificence of the subject. He kept throwing himself back in his chair, shouting 'Colossal! Colossal! A huge success!' All of this, anyway, is merely hypothetical for now, but it augurs well for the future. (Ph, Jan. 15, 1903) The project did not materialize, perhaps because of that German ban on the presentation of Jesus on stage. Lazare turned up again a few months later, when the orchestral score was finished, in a conversation with Madame Zola mentioned by Bruneau in a letter in July: ‘I spoke to her [Madame Zola] about Lazare , since Bourgeau had told me it was rumoured that I’d be performed next year at Béziers.’ This idea — of a performance in the ancient theatre of Béziers — was another that would never see the light of day, but one that came very close to one long dreamed of by Zola and Bruneau — to have a performance in such a place. The Lazare project was still waiting its turn when the decision was taken to transfer Zola’s ashes to the Panthéon. It had been talked about since 1906, and it was Philippine Bruneau who suggested a new idea, swiftly taken up by Bruneau, of having Lazare performed at the Panthéon. What better homage could there be, indeed, than to present this drama, this ultimate gesture to Zola from Bruneau, in a ceremony celebrating the man of letters and his political commitment to the defence of truth and justice? But once again the plan would not succeed. The work would certainly have been considered too long for such a ceremony, but Bruneau would still appear on the programme since the symphonic entracte from Messidor would be played. The most serious plan for a production of Lazare began at last to appear in the summer of 1908. In a letter of May 23, 1908, Antony Réal, the co-director (with Ange Chambon) of the ancient theatre of Orange, wrote to confirm a visit to Alfred Bruneau in the company of the mayor of the city, Auguste Lacour. They wished to discuss the possibility of producing Lazare in that city where there had been a music festival since 1869 — one which still exists today in the form of the ‘Chorégies’ of Orange. Nothing certain or definitive emerged from this first meeting on August 24, but we can follow step by step the vicissitudes of the project thanks to the correspondence between Réal, Lacour and Bruneau, preserved in the Puaux-Bruneau archives. It turned out to be a financial problem that stood in the way of the production of Lazare . The work requires choirs and soloists as well as the orchestra, and it seemed very expensive to bring together so many people for a work that lasts barely half-an- hour. Such an addition to the programme would add considerably to the expense of the evening. A possible solution was suggested to Bruneau by the Mayor of Orange. Eager to support the project, and recalling the success of an international choral competition held at Orange some years before, he suggested organising a similar competition for the folowing year, under the direction of Bruneau, whose lyric composition could then receive its first performance. For Bruneau, however, this was a rather poor suggestion; it was not the sort of solution he envisaged. He had nothing against such popular events for amateur music societies (he made frequent contributions himself to the conferences of the North Pas-de-Calais Music Federation), but he was hoping for serious recognition of this work which was one of the last remaining testimonies to his friendship with Zola. So he refused the offer, and asked La-cour to keep his promise. A whole series of fruitless moves attended these negotiations, with, on the one hand, festival directors with little experience of musical productions, and on the other, an Alfred Bruneau eager to protect his own interests and those of the family of Emile Zola. The whole affair, already quite complex enough, became further complicated by a political row. On December 5th 1909, Alfred Bruneau came upon a staggering item in the gossip columns of Gil Blas: The ancient theatre of Orange and the Artillery barracks — The Official Newspaper has latterly forgotten the list of towns to be endowed with artillery barracks to house the new contingents expected as a result of recent staff increases. Among the favoured cities, Orange, famous for its ancient theatre, figures prominently. In fact, the artillery barracks in Orange have not yet been built, but they already have a history. When the government decided to apply to the two Chambers for the increase in manpower for the artillery, the councils of the cities with no garrison were upset and made a fuss. The mayor of Orange took care not to neglect the interests of his city and came to Paris where he made manifold appeals and applications. He obtained the support of all the politicians of his department, and soon every section of the Ministry of War had become acquainted with the Mayor of Orange. But at that time General Picquart was the Minister of War, and the offices of the Ministry were leaving no stone unturned in their efforts to woo the Minister.