A Musical Revolution

On November 16th, 1777, Christoph Wilibald Gluck was steeped in operatic intrigues launched by his rivals. He wrote to the Countess van Fries.

“Never had a more terrible and hotly contested battle been waged than the one I began with my opera Armide. The conspiracies against Iphigenee, Orfeo, and Alceste were no more than little cavalry skirmishes by comparison. The Neopolitan Ambassador, to ensure great success for Piccinini’s opera, is doggedly intriguing against me at court and among the nobility.

“He has gotten Marmontel, La Harpe, and several members of the Academy to write against my system of music and my style of composing. The Abbe Arnaud and several others have come to my defense and the quarrel has grown so heated that the insults would have turned to blows had not friends from both sides brought them to order. The daily Paris Journal is full of it. The dispute is making the editor a fortune.

“That’s the musical revolution in France, amid the most glittering pomp. Enthusiasts tell me I’m lucky to be enjoying the persecution–an honor experienced by every great genius. The devil take them and their fine speeches. The fact is, the opera – which is said to have fallen on its face-brought in 3,700 livres in seven performances, not counting the boxes rented for the year and the subscribers

“Yesterday, at the eighth performances, they took in another 5,767 livres. The pit was so jam-packed that when a man was asked to take his hat off by the attendant, he replied, ‘Come and take it off yourself because I can’t move my arms,’ which aroused great laughter.

“I’ve seen people coming out with their hair bedraggled and their clothes as drenched as if they had fallen into a stream. Only Frenchman would pay so much for that kind of pleasure. There are passages in the opera that crack up the audience and cause them to lose their dignity. Come yourself, Madame, to witness the chaos. It will amuse you a good deal at the opera.”