Alcestis

Couverture
H. Holt, 1874 - 288 pages
 

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Page 114 - ... there was a knock at the door; and before he had time to answer, it was opened, and Charles entered.
Page 132 - ... raised him above his conventional contemporaries. Perhaps Gluck had not more genius than the other composers of operas of his time, but why has he survived them ? why does he still delight us when even the giant Handel has ceased to live in his operas ? Where are Hasse's astounding...
Page 135 - ... severely simple music will speak to the intelligence of a child — the thrilling fury chorus and dance ; the divine prayer and harp accompaniments of Orpheus, interrupted by the sonorous ' No ' of the hell chorus ; then the dreamy music of the blest, the meeting of Orpheus with his beloved. . . . The audience were now worked up to enthusiasm, and there yet remained the great song, the chef-d'oauvre of Gluck,
Page 133 - ... favourite with the Court, so that the theatre was filling with a gay crowd as our friends take their seats, and Josquin's eyes were roaming among the fashionable boxes to see the arrival of the Lichtenbergs, when a slight applause filled the house, greeting the arrival of the composer, who took his post at the harpsichord. He had missed seeing the great Gluck's face, but the overture began ; he settled himself to listen with an effort — but in another minute Josquin was absorbed . . . .he was...
Page 26 - ... of hunger of a more positive kind even than music-hunger, he had gone round to the other side where the bread-winners went in together. These were the singers and players, strange Italian gentlemen, and groups of men and women with a family likeness about the elbows and knees, smoking and gossiping together. Josquin wondered whether they were not ready to burst with joy, if they were indeed the chorus, as he was told, at the idea of presently appearing on the stage. There was one business-like...
Page 135 - of the hell-chorus— then the dreamy music of the blest, the meeting of Orpheus with his beloved. As for our hero, when the curtain once more fell he could not trust himself to turn to Charles, he had not thought it possible that he could be so overpowered by an impression of power and beauty ; for days he had been cold to all such impressions. These were living waters into which he had plunged dry and thirsty, and new possibilities seemed opening to him.

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