nspiration directly
from Gluck, and the result is a work of large simplicity and austere
grandeur, which it is not too much to hope will some day take its place
in the world's repertory side by side with the masterpieces of Wagner.
The first part, 'La Prise de Troie,' describes the manner in which the
city of Priam fell into the hands of the Greeks. The drama is dominated
by the form of the sad virgin Cassandra. In vain she warns her people of
their doom. They persist in dragging up the wooden horse from the
sea-beach, where it was left by the Greeks. The climax of the last act
is terrific. AEneas, warned by the ghost of Hector of the approaching
doom of Troy, escapes; but the rest of the Trojans fall victims to the
swords of the Greeks in a scene of indescribable carnage and terror.
Cassandra and the Trojan women, driven to take shelter in the temple of
Cybele, slay themselves rather than fall into the hands of their
captors. 'La Prise de Troie' is perhaps epic rather than dramatic, but
as a whole it leaves an impression of severe and spacious grandeur,
which can only be paralleled in the finest inspirations of Gluck. In
the second division of the work, 'Les Troyens a Carthage,' human
interest is paramount. Berlioz was an enthusiastic student of Virgil,
and he follows the tragic tale of the AEneid closely. The appearance of
AEneas at Carthage, the love of Dido, the summons of Mercury, AEneas'
departure and the passion and death of Dido, are depicted in a series of
scenes of such picturesqueness and power, such languor and pathos, as
surely cannot be matched outside the finest pages of Wagner. A time will
certainly come when this great work, informed throughout with a
passionate yearning for the loftiest ideal of art, will receive the
recognition which is its due. Of late indeed there have been signs of a
revival of interest in Berlioz's mighty drama, and the recent
performances of 'Les Troyens' in Paris and Brussels have opened the eyes
of many musicians to its manifold beauties. Some years ago the
experiment was made of adapting Berlioz's cantata, 'La Damnation de
Faust,' for stage purposes. The work is of course hopelessly undramatic,
but the beauty of the music and the opportunities that it affords for
elaborate spectacular effects have combined to win the work a certain
measure of success, especially in Italy where Gounod's 'Faust' has never
won the popularity that it enjoys north of the Alps. 'La Damnation de
Faust