"The other artists fare no better in this respect, sentence is passed with quite as little justice and insight, and Your Highness will readily divine the reason, since the more one strives for perfection and truth the more necessary become the attributes of accuracy and justice. The qualities which distinguished Raphael from all other painters are possessed by few. Slight change of line may not destroy the resemblance in a caricature, but it may entirely disfigure the appearance of a lovely countenance. In music I will cite but one example, the aria from the opera Orpheus, 'Che farò senza Euridice.' Should one make the least change in the movement or manner of expression it would become simply an ordinary air for puppet-shows. In a piece of this kind the effect of the scene may be utterly destroyed by a more or less sustained note, an increase of tone, carelessness in tempo, a trill, a passage, etc., etc. When it is a question of carrying out the theme according to the principles laid down by me, the presence of the composer is as necessary as the sun to the creations of nature. He is the soul and the life, without whom all is in disorder and confusion, but he must be prepared to meet all obstacles even as we would meet men who, because they have eyes and ears, without regard to the structure of these organs, feel called upon to pronounce judgment upon the fine arts, simply because they have eyes and ears, for hastily to pass sentence upon things which he least understands, is a common failing of man. Nay, one of the greatest philosophers of this century recently dared to write a dissertation on music which he published as oracular with the superscription, 'Sogni di Ciechi e Fole di Romanzi' (Dreams of the Blind and Stories of Romance).
"Your Highness must already have read the drama 'Paris' and remarked that it does not offer to the composer those intense passions and tragic situations which in the 'Alceste' stir the souls of the spectators and afford opportunity for strong emotion. In this music you would as little expect the same strength and force as in a picture painted in broad daylight you would demand the same strong effects of light and shade and the same sharp contrasts which the artist can employ only on a subject painted in a subdued light. 'Alceste' treats of a wife who is about to lose her husband, to save whom she courageously conjures up the spirits of the nether world in the blackest shadows of night in a dark wood, and who, even in her last death-struggle trembles for the fate of her children and forces herself to part from an idolized husband. In 'Paris,' on the contrary, the question is of a loving youth who has to contend with the reserve of a truly noble but arrogant wife, a reserve which, by means of the arts of inventive passion, he finally conquers. I have therefore taken pains to think of an interchange of colors which I find in the various characters of the Phrygian and Spartan races, while I have contrasted the rude and stubborn disposition of the one with the tender, gentle disposition of the other. Hence I believe that the song which in my opera wholly takes the place of declamation, must imitate in the Helen the native rudeness of her race; I have thought, also, that because I sought to sustain this character in the music, I should not be blamed if I occasionally descended to the trivial. If one really wishes to follow the truth he must never forget that according to the measure of the subject in question even the supreme beauties of melody and harmony, if employed in the wrong places, may become faults and imperfections. I expect from my 'Paris' no better success than from my 'Alceste' as far as effecting the desired change in style of composition is concerned; yet all the long-foreseen hindrances shall not deter me from making new efforts toward the accomplishment of my good aim. If I but win the approval of Your Highness, with contented mind I may assure myself: Tolle Siparium; sufficit mihi unus Plato pro cuncto populo."
GLUCK.
From a pencil drawing of bust by the sculptor Houdon; probably a study for the statue in the Paris Opera House. See page [237].
With the appearance of this second declaration of war the attacks of criticism against Gluck became more numerous and violent, and it must have been the master's earnest wish to find a place for his activity which should be less under the musical influence of Italy than was Germany. Such a place was Paris, whose artistic conditions were the more favorable for Gluck's plans of reform in that the representatives in philosophy and belles-lettres set the standard in musical matters also, and with cultured people their opinion went much farther than that of the exceedingly conservative professional musicians. What attractive conditions for a composer who, at war with tradition, assigned to poetry the first place in the opera, while music should be but its servant!
Gluck did not hesitate to seize the opportunity, in 1772, of becoming more intimate with the Bailli du Rollet, a man fond of literature, highly cultivated, and enthusiastic over his music. Gluck had known him in Rome and now met him again as Attaché of the French Embassy in Vienna. A closer acquaintance with du Rollet gave the composer the means of carrying into effect his plan of going to Paris. Without regard to his former co-worker, Calzabigi—Gluck's relations with the latter may well have been changed since the failure of "Paris and Helen"—the master bound himself to du Rollet, who agreed to prepare, with his help, Racine's "Iphigénie in Aulis," and to bring about the performance of the work in the great Parisian Opera. The difficulties which arose from the business transactions with the directors of the Grand Opera were entirely overcome by an emphatic word from one of Gluck's former pupils, Marie Antoinette, who had been placed, in the meantime, upon the French throne, and in the autumn of 1773 Gluck was able to leave Vienna for Paris.
In Paris the German master was received with open arms by the court as well as by leaders in the literary circles. The protection of the former was of special consequence to Gluck, as he was to have infinitely greater trouble with the singers and musicians than he had experienced in Vienna. Even at the first rehearsals of his opera he was convinced that the principal actors of the "Académie royale de musique" (Royal Academy of Music), which was the official name of the Grand Opera, left much to be desired in singing, pronunciation, acting and all else. The dancers, who, until within a few years, had always entered with masks, entirely lacked the ability to assist the action by their pantomime as Gluck desired. The chorus was accustomed to march up and down in rank and file, the men on one side and the women on the other, and then to stand immovable. The orchestra finally reached the extreme height of laziness and lawlessness; in cold weather the entire company played in gloves, and the only way the leader could achieve any kind of ensemble was to beat the time loudly on his desk. And now Gluck made short work of the belligerents. To the singer who assumed the rôle of Iphigenia and in a rehearsal refused to follow instructions he said: "Voyez-vous, Mademoiselle, je suis ici pour faire exécuter Iphigénie; si vous voulez chanter, rien de mieux; si vous ne le voulez pas, à votre aise. J'irai voir la reine et je lui dirai, il m'est impossible de faire jouer mon opéra. Puis je monterai dans ma voiture et je reprendrai la route de Vienne." ("Mademoiselle, I am here to bring out Iphigenia: if you will sing, nothing can be better; if not, very well, I will go to the Queen and will say: It is impossible to have my opera performed; then I will take my seat in my carriage and return to Vienna.") Certainly the majority of the coöperators would have been glad to get rid of the master in this way, but knowing the court to be on his side, there was nothing to do but submit.
The day of the representation of "Iphigénie" (19 April, 1774) was anticipated with excitement by all Paris. In literary circles—the so-called bureaux d'esprit (offices of wit)—there were arguments for and against Gluck. In the first place here was a composer who had spoken the apparently paradoxical words which were nevertheless true: "When I compose operas I try, first of all, to forget that I am a musician," and in these circles there was violent opposition to the extremely self-confident reformer. Baron Grimm, a subtle critic and known as the patron of young Mozart during his second sojourn in Paris, thus describes, in a most graphic way, the ruling sentiments: "For two weeks Paris has been thinking and dreaming nothing but music. Music is the subject of all our debates, of all conversation; it is the life of all our suppers, and it would be simply ridiculous to show interest in anything else. To a political question the reply is a melody, to a moral reflection, the ritornelle of an aria; if one tries to excite interest in Racine or Voltaire he is reminded of the effect produced by the orchestra in the recitative of Agamemnon. Need I say that it is Gluck's 'Iphigénie' which has excited such a furore? A furore all the more tremendous because of the difference of opinion and the fanaticism of parties. One party swears that no other gods than Lully and Rameau shall be recognized; another believes only in the melodious revelations of Jomelli, Piccini and Sacchini; a third will hear of no other composer than Gluck, who has found the only true dramatic music drawn from the eternal fount of harmony, from the most intimate union of mind and soul; a music that belongs to no land, but which he has genially appropriated to our language."
It goes without saying that opinions differed even upon the evening of the first representation, but upon the second, applause was unanimous, or, as Grimm expresses it, "Iphigénie" was applauded "aux nues" (to the clouds). The series of successful representations was interrupted by the death of Louis XV., in consequence of which the theatre was closed for thirty-four days. This interruption was, however, employed in studying the "Orpheus," which meanwhile had been translated into French by Moline. Gluck had to make several important changes in the music, for the Academy of Music had no eunuchs among its members (the French public never having found pleasure in such singers), and the master was obliged to transpose for the tenor the title-rôle written for alto. Although by the substitution of the brilliant tenor for the melancholy alto the part of "Orpheus" lost something of its charm, "Orphée et Euridice" still had a success which far exceeded that of "Iphigénie." It was a special joy to Gluck that J. J. Rousseau, who had been one of his partisans, soon after the appearance of "Iphigénie" became one of his enthusiastic admirers. The philosopher of Geneva affirmed that the music of "Orpheus" had reconciled him to existence, and the reproach cast upon Gluck's music, that it was lacking in melody—a reproach, by the way, which no musical innovator, up to the present day, has been spared—he met with the words: "I believe that melody proceeds from every pore." Besides this, after Gluck had taught him better, Rousseau did not hesitate—and this does him honor—to publicly acknowledge that he had made a serious mistake in stating that the French language was unsuitable to set to music.