By Michael Vincent

Eighteenth-century Paris shaped musical customs that spread across the continent. Public concerts, sheet music publishing, and opera were a few of the trend-setting institutions emanating from the city. Parisian musical life takes center stage in Chevalier, a biopic of the eighteenth-century composer Joseph Bologne, Chevalier de Saint-Georges.[1] Bologne was the son of an enslaved woman and her Guadeloupean enslaver, who acknowledged Joseph as his son, allowing him to use his surname and providing for his education in France. Joseph earned his title, chevalier, at the age of nineteen due to his acumen in fencing. The film’s key dramatic moments focus on the social life of public concerts, chamber music, and opera. These institutions had a cosmopolitan flavor in Paris, serving as a nexus for music conventions that were recognized internationally.[2] The film captures these cosmopolitan conventions, as Paris is shown to draw composers of international prominence such as Mozart and Gluck to compose for elite audiences. Furthermore, the protagonist performs and composes in the music genres most in vogue at public concerts, namely symphonies, concertos, and operas. These central components of cosmopolitanism—elite, international, and trendsetting—drive the character’s development since the Chevalier navigates social conventions in a quest to express himself musically.

The film’s first act shows the Chevalier’s mastery of musical performance and composition. In the opening scene, he bests Mozart in a violin duel, a tableau loosely inspired by the Austrian composer’s visit to Paris in 1778. The film’s central conflict pits the Chevalier against the Bohemian Christoph Gluck, the premiere opera composer of the century, in a competition for the position as head of the Opéra. Due to court intrigue, the Chevalier’s opera fails despite the music’s merit. The character turns inward, composing a symphony with a theme his mother had sung to him as a child. The final scene takes place amid the 1789 Revolution. The Chevalier premieres his symphony against the Queen’s wishes, a sign of his character’s growth to make his music true to his principles rather than to win prestige and professional success.

Acting as a patron and confidante, Marie Antoinette warns the Chevalier that his rivalry with Gluck will challenge him: “The committee loves Gluck. All of Europe does.” Historically, the Queen was close with Gluck who was her music teacher in Vienna, while she had no known relationship with Bologne. Nonetheless, the dialogue nods to the eighteenth-century reality that was Gluck’s international fame. He became famous for his principles of opera reform, wherein he combined elements of French and Italian theatre and struck a balance between beauty and drama. In the preface to Gluck’s opera Alceste (1769), the composer laid out his aesthetic principles:

 When I undertook to write the music of Alceste, I decided to divest it wholly of all those abuses which, introduced into it either by the ill-considered vanity of the singers or by the excessive indulgence of composers. . . . I thought I would restrict the music to its true function of serving the poetry in the expression and situations of the story, without interrupting the action or chilling it with useless, superfluous ornaments.[3]

Gluck integrated the chorus and ballet into the action, essential elements of French theatre. The opera depicted in the film, Iphigénie en Aulide (1774), was the first of seven operas that Gluck composed for Paris. While it was a success, Gluck revised it the following year to appeal to Parisian tastes. The divertissements, which were series of dances and choruses interspersed throughout the opera, were popular in Paris and expanded in the revision. While the opera was a tragedy on a mythical topic, the final scene, which is depicted in the film, spares Iphigénie from human sacrifice and blesses her marriage to Achilles before he leaves for war in Troy.

The Chevalier comments that there is “nothing more stale than a Greek tragedy.” He composed his opera, Ernestine, as an opera comique, which operated on different conventions than the ones Gluck used for Iphigénie en Aulide. Comic operas typically focused on contemporary subjects rather than mythical or historical ones. While a tragedy involved the fates of kings and armies, a comic opera celebrated the plights of common individuals such as servants and soldiers. Only one of Bologne’s operas survives in full today, which is typical since operas were not normally published. Operas were usually notated in manuscript, which would have given some flexibility for the singers to insert their own arias or to otherwise alter the music for the performance. Bologne’s surviving opera, The Anonymous Lover, comes up briefly in the film when Ernestine’s producer agrees to take the financial risk of staging the opera. As a tradeoff, she makes the Chevalier promise to write an opera on her next book: The Anonymous Lover. Bologne composed this opera in 1780, which has recently been revived in the Haymarket Opera Company’s production in Chicago. Haymarket also produced the first recording of the opera in 2023 with Cedille Records, which launched the Ruth Bader Ginsburg Fund for Vocal Recordings.[4]

While most of Bologne’s works were instrumental genres, his operas proved successful. In 1776, apparently due to his success as an orchestra director, he had been a candidate for the prestigious music director position at the Opéra. Four actors petitioned the Queen to deny Bologne the position, citing the indignity of being directed by someone of African descent. Bologne’s modern biographer, Gabriel Banat, suggests that the lead actor’s self-preservation motivated the petition since Bologne’s leadership may have clashed with her desire to control the company herself.[5] While Bologne did not receive the position, he went on to compose six operas between 1777 and 1790. Three premiered at the Comédie-Italienne in Paris, two at private theaters of Parisian patrons, and one at a theatre company in Lille.  

Bologne composed his final opera, Guillaume tout coeur, especially for the city of Lille. He had visited that city for a fencing exhibition, intending to stay briefly. But he took ill and extended his stay for six weeks, in the meantime composing the opera and dedicating it to the citizens of Lille. A contemporary review describes the positive reception:

Last Wednesday MMs Saint Georges and Monnet [the librettist and lead actor] presented us with Guillaume tout coeur, an opera in one act. … The music, which is by Saint-Georges, is full of a sweet warmth of motion and spirit. A large number of the pieces are distinguished by their melodic lines or the vigor of their harmony. … In fact, the music of the opera Guillaume tout coeur, although it was composed between tierce et quarte thrusts which M. Saint-Georges could not parry, adds to the high reputation of this virtuoso in every field. The public, enchanted by this production made the hall resound with its justly deserved applause and called for the authors with great enthusiasm.[6]

The review referred to the fencing exhibition, which Bologne lost, notably lauding his virtuosity “in every field.” Bologne’s multifaceted achievements appealed to a culture where a person’s success was taken as a sign of their nature as a galant gentilhomme.

The public concert became an important Parisian institution during the eighteenth century, giving rise to genres depicted in the film such as the symphony and the concerto. A public concert organization called the Concert Spirituel was established in the Salle des Cent Suisses in Tuileries in 1725.[7] The series lasted until 1790 and attracted performers from across the continent. A typical concert was a like a variety show of genres including symphonies, concertos, arias, and motets. Chevalier’s opening and closing scenes suggest concerts of this nature. These public concerts relied on ticket sales which meant that successful musicians such as the Chevalier would have relied on the audience’s enthusiasm for his music, a crucial component to the film’s dramatic tension.

Several prints of Bologne’s music suggest that public concerts boosted his reputation and consequently served as selling points for his music. The title page of his Symphonies Concertantes, for example, indicates that “these symphonies were played at the Concert Spirituel” (Figure 1).[8] Title pages appealed to potential consumers, who would see dedications, the composer’s name, opus numbers, occasional engraved images and other decorations. The publisher of this edition, Jean-Georges Sieber, played as the principal horn player of the Concert Spirituel and therefore heard the concerts referenced on the title page.[9] As a publisher, Sieber joined other Parisian firms in setting the trend of high-quality engraved editions. Unlike typeset editions, engravings appealed to players visually with clean, unbroken staves and notes. Publishers in other cities soon followed this trend so that engravings were preferred to typeset editions by the end of the century. Sieber’s firm furthermore sought out composers of international prominence such as J.C. Bach, Haydn, and Boccherini. Audiences interested in this edition of Bologne’s Symphonies Concertantes were thus well-versed in the repertoire of musical cosmopolitanism.

Mozart’s 1778 visit to Paris included a performance of his music at the Concert Spirituel. Correspondence between Mozart and his father—at home in Salzburg—sheds light on aspects of concert life depicted in Chevalier. In a letter dated June 12 of that year, the visiting composer suggests a rivalry akin to the violin duel that occupies the film’s initial scene. After complaining to his father that rehearsals for his new symphony did not go well, Mozart wrote,

I had decided not to go to the concert at all; but in the evening, the weather being fine, I at last made up my mind to go, determined that if it went as badly as it had at the rehearsal I would certainly go up to the orchestra, take the violin from the hands of Lahoussaye, the first violinist, and lead myself![10]

Mozart reported, however, that the concert went well. His description of the music and the audience reaction grants precious insight into the perspective of a composer who anticipated audience expectations.

The symphony began … and in the middle of the first Allegro was a passage that I knew they would like; the whole audience was thrilled by it and there was a tremendous burst of applause; but as I knew when I wrote it what kind of an effect it would produce, I repeated it again at the end—when there were shouts of “Da capo.” The Andante also found favor, but particularly the last Allegro because, having observed that here [in Paris] all final as well as first Allegros begin with all the instruments playing together, I began mine with the two violins only. … The audience, as I expected, said “Shh!” at the soft beginning, and then, as soon as they heard the forte that followed, immediately began to clap their hands.[11]

The audiences in Chevalier similarly react to dramatic moments in real time. This practice stands in contrast with the modern concert convention of complete silence during a performance, which is a nineteenth-century practice and quite unlike Bologne’s Paris.

The music of the two aristocratic party scenes contrasts with the public concerts. In the first party, a group of musicians plays excerpts from Bologne’s String Quartets Op. 1, which were published in Paris in 1773. The string quartet was a popular genre of chamber music that contrasted with public concerts because it was marketed to small groups of musicians. These musicians either played the music for their own enjoyment or for private gatherings as depicted in the film. Bologne’s Opus 1 appealed to these players by accommodating to public taste. A typical opus would have consisted of six three- or four-movement works, but the two-movement format appealed to players who wanted a quicker turnaround from learning an opus of music. The music in the film is from the second movement, which is a rondeau. This popular form appealed to players because it consisted of a melody repeated several times, with contrasting sections between the repetitions. In the sixth quartet of opus 1, which is heard in the film, one of these contrasting sections passes the melody from instrument to instrument, giving each member of the quartet time to play the melodic role in the texture. Such compositional devices appealed to the players, who were the primary consumers of chamber music and drove the sale of prints.

Musical style in the Enlightenment was closely tied to its social use. Thus, the categories of chamber music, public concert, and opera came with predictable conventions that matched the music to its context. Composers often aimed for a middle ground when navigating audience expectations, skirting the boundary between artistic originality and commercial appeal.[12] Music that was highly personal, on the other hand, did not typically meet with success. The Chevalier references this fact when his mother suggests incorporating a Guadeloupean song from his childhood into one of his compositions.[13] He responds in the negative, stating that “there are standards that must be honored.” After he fails to be appointed as director of the opera, however, the Chevalier becomes disillusioned with Parisian society’s expectations of him and focuses on his personal expression in music. The protagonist’s change reflects the aesthetic turn to Romanticism in the nineteenth century, where an artist’s inscrutable personality is believed to be expressed in the artwork. He composes and finally performs a symphony with a fragment of the Guadeloupean melody: a descending minor second that creates an expressive character conducive to Romanticism.

Eighteenth-century Paris was a major center for musical performance, publishing, and stylistic trendsetting. Chevalier uses the most important musical institutions of the century as a backdrop for its drama, cleverly integrating the protagonist’s journey with historical realities. Bologne’s reputation in the city certainly provides a great number of details for a composer biopic. A poem published in 1768 in the gazette called the Mercure de France demonstrates the composer’s multifaceted fame, focusing on his skills in music, dance, and swordsmanship:

Offspring of taste and genius, he
Was one the sacred valley bore,
Of Terpsichore nursling and competitor;
And rival to the god of harmony,
Had he to music added poesy
Apollo’s self he’d be mistaken for.[14]

Perhaps prescient, this poem was written before Bologne had composed an opera, thus adding music to poesy.

From audience behavior, concert life, and aristocratic intrigue, the life of Bologne cuts across many of the cosmopolitan trends that defined musical life in eighteenth-century Paris. Chevalier proves a rich exploration of these historical realities, representing key aspects of Enlightenment music-making for contemporary moviegoers.

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Michael Vincent is a Visiting Assistant Professor in musicology at the University of North Florida. His research on eighteenth-century music is published in Boccherini Studies, Ad Parnassum, and Notes. He has presented at national and international conferences including the American Society for Eighteenth-Century Studies, the American Musicological Society, and the First International Luigi Boccherini Conference. He is the editor for the Society for Eighteenth-Century Music Newsletter and holds a PhD in musicology from the University of Florida.

Endnotes:

[1] In this essay the surname “Bologne” refers to the historical personage and the title “Chevalier” refers to the fictional film character. The film is rich in historical accuracy while the dialogue and drama are inventions mostly inspired by history.

[2] Studies on musical cosmopolitanism include Don Fader, Music, Dance and franco-Italian Cultural Exchange c. 1700: Michel Pignolet de Montéclair and the Prince de Vaudémont (Rochester: The Boydell Press, 2021); William Weber, “Cosmopolitan, National, and Regional Identities in Eighteenth-Century European Musical Life,” The Oxford Handbook of the New Cultural History of Music, ed. Jane F. Fulcher (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 209–27.

[3] English translation in Piero Weiss, Opera: A History in Documents (Oxford University Press, 2002), 119–20.

[4] Craig Trompeter, “The Chevalier in Chicago: Producing Joseph Bologne’s Opera L’Amant Anonyme,” Society for Eighteenth-Century Music Newsletter 41 (2023): 4–5.

[5] Gabriel Banat, The Chevalier de Saint-Georges: Virtuoso of the Sword and Bow (Hillsdale, NY: Pendragon Press, 2006), 192.

[6] Gazette du département du Nord, 11 September, 1790. Quot. and trans. in Banat, The Chevalier de Saint-Georges, 359.

[7] Daniel Heartz, “The Concert Spirituel in the Tuileries Palace,” Early Music 21 (1993): 241–48.

[8] Source: gallica.bnf.fr / Bibliothèque nationale de France. Permalink: https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b9078718t

[9] Richard Macnutt, “Sieber, Jean-Georges,” in The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, ed. Stanley Sadie (London: Macmillan, 1980). Since the symphonies concertantes had no horn part, Sieber would have witnessed the music without playing it in concert.

[10] English translation in Emily Anderson, The Letters of Mozart and His Family, Chronologically Arranged, Translated and Edited with an Introduction, Notes and Indices, 3^rd ed. (New York: W. W. Norton, 1989).

[11] Ibid.

[12] Elaine Sisman, “Observations on the First Phase of Mozart’s ‘Haydn Quartets,’ in Words About Mozart: Essays in Honour of Stanley Sadie, ed. Dorothea Link and Judith Nagley (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2005), 33–58.

[13] Composer Michael Abels wrote the “Guadeloupe Melody” for the film using elements of String Quartet No. 1 from Bologne’s Six Quators Concertants. Abels also composed the symphony heard during the film’s finale using the same source material.

[14] English translation from Lionel de La Laurencie, “The Chevalier de Saint-Georges: Violinist,” Musical Quarterly 5 (1919): 74–85.