A longside Verdi and Nabucco in Italy was Glinka and Russian and ±\Ludmilla in Russia. Both of them jam-packed full of great pieces to sing, both of them from 1842, and both of them the early expressions of the seeds of nationalism in their own countries.
Glinka was, as we all are no doubt, an amazing blend of different influences, chance acquaintances and minor quirks of history. Born in Smolensk in 1804, he'd been brought up largely on one of those stunning Russian country estates that you can now only dream of - his uncle even had his own house orchestra. After some lessons in St Petersburg with John Field - yes, John Field the composer: Field had gone there on tour with his then boss, the pianist-composer Clementi, and when Clementi left, Field stayed on. Bit complicated but stay with me - Glinka then, quite consciously, decided that he needed to be able to write 'a great Russian opera'. But before he could do that, he quite simply need to be able to write 'a great opera'. Seems fair. So what did he do? He quite simply took himself off to the home of opera - Italy - and decided to learn from the masters. He got to know Bellini and Donizetti but, more importandy, got to hear operas. Many, many operas. This done, he went to study with a Great Dane. Sorry, my mistake. That should read with the great Dehn: Siegfried Wilhelm Dehn, a very much respected musicologist and theorist. When Dehn thought he was ready, he sent him off with the line 'Go home, and write Russian music', and Glinka duly obliged.
For his first opera, he picked for his subject the invasion of Russia by the Poles in 1613. So a nice light opera, then. This is still very 'Italian' in style, it has to be said, and yet demonstrates lots of the new, up and coming 'nationalism'. For his second opera, though, he adapted a poem by Pushkin, Russian and Ludmilla, and it was this opera that was to be the turning point. It's now looked upon as setting the standard for the new, truly Russian opera style. It also, ironically, was the start of a mini-craze for 'orientalism', incorporating, as it does, authentic oriental themes, and what's known as 'whole tone scales': this is simply a technical, muso way of saying 'sounds a little eerie, with a bit of suspense, and more than a hint of sinister'. (Hope that helps.) Sadly, these days, the showstopping overture to Russian and Ludmilla tends to do precisely that - stop the show. At least, many more people now only ever hear the overture and nothing of the opera. Ah well. As they say in Germany, 'Sze sind zwei menschen, die anlich aussehen, und amgleichen taggeboren sind? How true, how true.
All in all, what with Glinka and his first Russian opera, Verdi with his resistance-friendly tunes and even Chopin with his Polish stuff, it's fair to say that the first seeds of musical nationalism have been sown. Now talking of Germany, lock up your daughters, hang on to your hats and do whatever else it is that you do in cliches before something cataclysmic happens. Whatever you do, do it. Because…
…Wagner has arrived.