Great Italian and French Composers | Page 8

quoted from the Latin poet in regard to this favor from
Marie Antoinette, whose faction in music, among other names, was
known as the Greek party, "Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes." *
* I fear the Greeks, though offering gifts.
Beaumarchais, the brilliant author of "Figaro," had found the same
inconvenience when acting as court teacher to the daughters of Louis
XV. The French kings were parsimonious except when lavishing
money on their vices.
The action of the dauphiness, however, paved the way for a
reconciliation between Piccini and Gluck. Berton, the manager of the
opera, gave a luxurious banquet, and the musicians, side by side,
pledged each other in libations of champagne. Gluck got confidential in
his cups. "These French," he said, "are good enough people, but they
make me laugh. They want us to write songs for them, and they can't
sing." In fact the quarrel was not between the musicians but their

adherents. In his own heart Piccini knew his inferiority to Gluck.
De Vismes, Berton's successor, proposed that both should write operas
on the same subject, "Iphigenia in Tauris," and gave him a libretto.
"The French public will have for the first time," he said, "the pleasure
of hearing two operas on the same theme, with the same incidents, the
same characters, but composed by two great masters of totally different
schools."
"But," objected the alarmed Italian, "if Gluck's opera is played first, the
public will be so delighted that they will not listen to mine."
"To avoid that catastrophe," said the director, "we will play yours first."
"But Gluck will not permit it."
"I give you my word of honor," said De Vismes, "that your opera shall
be put in rehearsal and brought out as soon as it is finished."
Before Piccini had finished his opera, he heard that his rival was back
from Germany with his "Iphigenia" completed, and that it was in
rehearsal. The director excused himself on the plea of its being a royal
command. Gluck's work was his masterpiece, and produced an
unparalleled sensation among the Parisians. Even his enemies were
silenced, and La Harpe said it was the _chef d'oeuvre_ of the world.
Piccini's work, when produced, was admired, but it stood no chance
with the profound, serious, and wonderfully dramatic composition of
his rival.
On the night of the first performance Mile. Laguerre, to whom Piccini
had trusted the rôle of Iphigenia, could not stand straight from
intoxication. "This is not 'Iphigenia in Tauris,'" said the witty Sophie
Arnould, "but 'Iphigenia in champagne.'" She compensated afterward
though by singing the part with exquisite effect.
While the Gluck-Piccini battle was at its height, an amateur who was
disgusted with the contest returned to the country and sang the praises
of the birds and their gratuitous performances in the following epigram:

"La n'est point d'art, d'ennui scientifique; Piccini, Gluck, n'ont point
noté les airs. Nature seule en dicta la musique, Et Marmontel n'en a pas
fait les vers."
The sentiment of this was probably applauded by the many who were
wearied of the bitter recriminations, which degraded the art which they
professed to serve.
During the period when Gluck and Piccini were composing for the
French opera, its affairs flourished liberally under the sway of De
Vismes. Gluck, Piccini, and Rameau wrote serious operas, while
Piccini, Sacchini, Anfossi, and Paisiello composed comic operas. The
ballet flourished with unsurpassed splendor, and on the whole it may be
said that never has the opera presented more magnificence at Paris than
during the time France was on the eve of the Reign of Terror. The gay
capital was thronged with great singers, the traditions of whose artistic
ability compare favorably with those of a more recent period.
The witty and beautiful Sophie Arnould, who had a train of princes at
her feet, was the principal exponent of Gluck's heroines, while Mile.
La-guerre was the mainstay of the Piccinists. The rival factions made
the names of these charming and capricious women their war-cries not
less than those of the composers. The public bowed and cringed before
these idols of the stage. Gaétan Vestris, the first of the family, known
as the "Dieu de la Danse," and who held that there were only three
great men in Europe, Frederick the Great of Prussia, Voltaire, and
himself, dared to dictate even to Gluck. "Write me the music of a
chaconne, Monsieur Gluek," said the god of dancing.
"A chaconne!" said the enraged composer. "Do you think the Greeks,
whose manners we are endeavoring to depict, knew what a chaconne
was?"
"Did they not?" replied Vestris, astonished at this news, and in a tone of
compassion continued, "then they are much to be pitied."
Vestris did not obtain his ballet music from the obdurate German; but,
when Piccini's rival "Iphigènie