La captive

Have you ever heard of Jean-Baptiste Guirod, Giullaume Ross-Despréaux or Eugène Prévost? Apart from Prévost, perhaps, they have mostly been consigned to the depths of oblivion. But these were composers who won the coveted Prix de Rome, an award that had been instituted by Napoleon himself in 1803, in the period from 1827 to 1829. And in doing so, they whipped the prize right out from under the nose of Berlioz, who had competed for it just as often as they had. It might offer Berlioz some – posthumous – solace to know that he was in excellent company; Ravel, Debussy and Bizet were also to be denied the prize. The judging system for the prize, which offered little scope for groundbreaking composers, has come in for severe criticism over the years. In the words of Edgar Varèse, the prize ‘produced so much insipid fruit that nowadays we can barely even remember their names’. It was Berlioz himself, in his highly readable and entertaining autobiography, who explained all about the prize’s requirements and what the prize itself involved. The winner received an allowance for five years, but this was on condition that he would spend the first two years at the Académie de France in Rome, use the third year for travelling through Germany and survive the remaining two years ‘doing what he could to promote himself and avoid dying from hunger’ in Paris.