stands for in German.  The new thing had been in existence for half a century, and was already on the road to the degraded level on which we shall find it when we come to the subject of operatic singing, before it came to be called Opera in musica, of which “opera” is an abbreviation.  Now it is to be observed that the composers of all countries, having been taught to believe that the dramatic contents of an opera have some significance, are abandoning the vague term “opera” and following Wagner in his adoption of the principles underlying the original terminology.  Verdi called his “Aida” an Opera in quattro atti, but his “Otello” he designated a lyric drama (Dramma lirico), his “Falstaff” a lyric comedy (Commedia lirica), and his example is followed by the younger Italian composers, such as Mascagni, Leoncavallo, and Puccini.

[Sidenote:  Recitative.]

In the majority of the operas of the current list the vocal element illustrates an amalgamation of the archaic recitative and aria.  The dry form of recitative is met with now only in a few of the operas which date back to the last century or the early years of the present.  “Le Nozze di Figaro,” “Don Giovanni,” and “Il Barbiere di Siviglia” are the most familiar works in which it is employed, and in the second of these it is used only by the bearers of the comedy element.  The dissolute Don chatters glibly in it with Zerlina, but when Donna Anna and Don Ottavio converse, it is in the recitativo stromentato.

[Sidenote:  The object of recitative.]

[Sidenote:  Defects of the recitative.]

[Sidenote:  What it can do.]

In both forms recitative is the vehicle for promoting the action of the play, preparing its incidents, and paving the way for the situations and emotional states which are exploited, promulgated, and dwelt upon in the set music pieces.  Its purpose is to maintain the play in an artificial atmosphere, so that the transition from dialogue to song may not be so abrupt as to disturb the mood of the listener.  Of all the factors in an opera, the dry recitative is the most monotonous.  It is not music, but speech about to break into music.  Unless one is familiar with Italian and desirous of following the conversation, which we have been often told is not necessary to the enjoyment of an opera, its everlasting use of stereotyped falls and intervallic turns, coupled with the strumming of arpeggioed cadences on the pianoforte (or worse, double-bass and violoncello), makes it insufferably wearisome to the listener.  Its expression is fleeting—­only for the moment.  It lacks the sustained tones and structural symmetry essential to melody, and therefore it cannot sustain a mood.  It makes efficient use of only one of the fundamental factors of vocal music—­variety of pitch—­and that in a rudimentary way.  It is specifically a product of the Italian language, and best adapted