Rameau that he put "too much music" in his operas. That "too much music" was just what rendered half tones possible, just as in painting it is only a rich palette that can introduce tone and graduation in the colouring. But does what allows of half-tones exclude the opportune application of strong and lively colours? Certainly not. Like all truly great artists Rameau has both. He draws from the same source his double superiority in delicate expression and in the vigorous inspirations of eloquence. If anyone ever knew how to put energy into music, it is he. He has no equal for feats of conciseness and strength, for the sudden frankness and overwhelming bursts of melodic spate. This boldness is the most striking characteristic of his airs of the second class, airs in the proper and full sense of the term. But what is so admirable is that thanks to the graduations these fine strong strokes come in perfectly naturally.
In the school with which I contrast him and which replaced him, the important kind of air only emerges after some preparation. The musical embellishments by which it is compulsorily introduced seem to be proclaiming that serious matters, great matters, are about to be uttered, and now it will be well worth while to listen. However successful and fine the air may be, this gives a shock, it shows favouritism, it almost asks for objectionable mannerisms from the interpreter both as actor and as singer. With Rameau, at any rate in his best work, there is nothing of this. The great expressions whether vocal or instrumental arise from the actual progress of the sentiment and of the dialogue, with such spontaneity that one feels their elevating effect without having, so to speak, noticed it. The listener is out on the ocean of music
