GLUCK'S MONUMENT IN WEIDENWANG.
In the second act we see the two friends as prisoners in the temple. To Orestes' outbursts of despair Pylades replies in the touching aria "Unis dès la plus tendre enfance." In vain! He is powerless to banish the frightful memories of Orestes, who is plunged again into despair at the separation from his friend. His words, "Le calme rentre dans mon cœur," are only a self-delusion, his real state of mind being betrayed by the feverish movement in sixteenths of the bass-viol. Not even in sleep can he find peace, for scarcely has he closed his eyes when the Eumenides appear and terrify the murderer with their cries of revenge,—and here, for the first time, the trombones are introduced. After their frightful song "Vengeons et la nature et les dieux en courroux" and the succeeding words "Il a tué sa mère," given pianissimo by the entire chorus and the orchestra, Iphigenia appears, questions the stranger and learns from him the terrible fate of her parent, and that Orestes himself is no longer among the living. The second act closes with a funeral celebration in honor of her brother's memory, during which the priestess mourns her loss in the aria, "O, malheureuse Iphigénie!"
One of the most beautiful and ennobling scenes of the opera is that of the third act, in which the friends contend as to which shall be sacrificed for the other, for to only one of the prisoners does the cruel Thoas, moved by Iphigenia's prayers, grant life and the permission to return to Greece. As Orestes threatens to take his own life in case he is not made the victim, Pylades yields, only with the intention of effecting his friend's release, however, immediately upon his own deliverance. This aria in praise of friendship, "Divinité des grandes âmes, amitié," is characterized at first by sweet simplicity, but at the words "Je vais sauver Oreste," the music becomes so grand—especially at the sudden introduction of the kettle-drums and trumpets, which have not been used in the entire act—as to produce an irresistible effect upon the audience.
In the fourth act Iphigenia entreats Diana, in the words "Je t'implore et je tremble, Déesse implacable," to spare her the frightful task of sacrificing the young stranger, but her supplications are unheeded. As she seizes the sacrificial knife with which she is to stab Orestes to the heart, the latter half-involuntarily exclaims: "Ainsi tu péris en Aulide, Iphigénie, o, ma sœur!" The ensuing scene of recognition in which all the composer's depth of feeling, all the passion of his heart are embodied, is of most intense theatrical effect. Now follow, one after another, the most thrilling scenes. The brother and sister resolve to escape, but are surprised by Thoas, who insists upon the sacrifice—when Pylades appears with his faithful Greeks, slays the barbarian, and amid songs of rejoicing the curtain falls for the last time.
We have already stated that "Iphigénie in Tauris" was the only one of Gluck's operas which was fully appreciated by the public at its first representation. How is this remarkable fact to be explained? First of all we should say, without hesitation, by the impressive force of the material which is qualified to move and thrill the hearts of men in all ages, and to which has been given a form exactly suited to the operatic stage. Secondly, by the music, in which Gluck has adhered more strictly than in his previous works to his principle of according the first place to the libretto, for its very subordination to the text heightens rather than lessens the effect. Concerning the general character of this music, it is noticeable that the lyric element, which in the course of his reform Gluck sacrificed more and more to the dramatic, appears again in the sad "Iphigénie." In the choruses as well as in the arias, some of which, as we have seen, date from his Italian period, the lyric element is undeniable, while in the recitatives Gluck the dramatist is revealed in all his power. This beautiful symmetry of the forces governing the drama, the well-balanced alternation of the passive mood and the excitement called forth by the action, together give that solemnity to the music of "Iphigénie in Tauris" which fills the soul of the listener, even to the present time, and have given it the precedence of Gluck's creations.
Applause, honors and material reward for his work fell to Gluck's lot in richer measure than to any musician of his time. On the other hand he endured all those affronts seldom spared the pioneer artist who is true to his convictions. It must have grieved him especially to encounter only ill-will and crude misconception from the majority of his countrymen. Nearly all North Germany refused to recognize his works, following the example of Berlin, which, thanks to Frederick the Great, had now achieved a leading position in artistic and scientific matters. Frederick the Great himself saw in the Dresden kapellmeister, Hasse, the foremost representative of the opera, and asserted that Gluck knew nothing of singing and understood nothing of great operatic style. His sister, Princess Amelia, who had made a thorough study of composition under Kirnberger, upon becoming familiar with the "Iphigénie in Aulis" sent the following verdict to her teacher: "Herr Gluck, according to my opinion, will never rank as a skilled composer. In the first place, he has no inventive faculty, secondly his melody is miserable, and thirdly there is no accent, no expression, everything has a tiresome sameness. Finally and in general the whole opera is very poor, but it is the latest craze and has numerous supporters."
