The Sun. — 1845-01-03 (London, England)

COVENT-GAR: LEN THEATRE.  A bold, and to a certain extent, a successful experiment was made last night at this theatre, in the production of the Antigone of Sophocles—the last of three tragedies connected v. ith the history of (Edipus which the august genius of the Greek dramatist has familiarised to every clatsieal scholar. When we first read the announcement of this play we were not :without serious apprehensions that it would prove an arrant failure, for we did not deem it at all probable -that an English audience, habituated to the rapid, irregular action, and continual stir of Shakspeare's tragedies, with the fierce and tumultuous passions developed in their progress, would sympathise with the slow and stately march of a Greek play wherein the feelings of the human heart are roused but not probed to the quick ; and where more is said than done, the character of the piece being narrative rather than dramatic. But we have been agreeably disappointed. The Antigone, on the whole, has been successful, but its success has tot been so much owing to the interest taken by the audience in the conduct of the plot, whose severe simplicity and somewhat languid progress are illadapted to the melodramatic taste of the day, as to the music of Bartholdy, which is full of expression, varying in happy accordance with the sentiments enunciated by the dramatist. It is a striking proof of the undying character of true genius, to see a play which, upwards of two thousand years ago, delighted an Athenian audience received with applause by an English one, the majority of whom can know nothing of the incomparable grace and majesty of its style, and can be effected only by the truth and earnestness of the feelings it depicts. The Antigone of Sophocles is remarkable for the strict unity of its action, for the absence of all irrelevant characters and incidents, and  more especially for the pure and lofty moral it inculcates, and which is never for an instant lost sight of. The aim of the dramatist is obvious throughout. It it to show the remorse that waits on injustice :—in a Word, to illustrate the wholesome truth which ShakaPeare has so well expressed. that "The great gods are just ; and of our pleasant vices Make instruments to scourge us." The plot may be summed up in a few words. On the death of Eteocles and Polynices, sons of CEdipus, who fell in battle by each other's hand, Creon, their nearest tnale relative, ascends the throne of Thebes, and forbids  the rites of sepulture to the body of Polynices. Antigone, animated by piety and sisterly affection, nobly braves the despot's command, lout being detected in the attempt to inter her brother, she is condemned to be buried alive in the cavern of a rock. Soon after she has been conveyed thither, Tiresias, the soothsayer—so well known in Greek fable--enrers into Creon's presence, And by solemnly predicting the evils that will flow from the tyrant's unjust decree, induces him to bury ;Polynices, and issue an order for the release of Antigone. But the order is issued too late. Antigone has already strangled herself, and her lover, Ilmmon, Creon's son, commits suicide in the agony of his grief for her fate. His mother, also, distracted by this double loss, destroys herself, and the tragedy concludes with the unavailing self-reIproaches of the King, and the exhibition of his intense ?emorse. The chorus, who, as in all Greek dramas, takes a conspicuous share in the conduct of the plot, is composed of the nobles and councillors of Thebes, Who are supposed to be assembled before the palace in order to hear the decree which has so promptly proved fatal to Creon. Nothing can well be simper than this plot, or less complex than the emotions sought to be conveyed by • the dramatist. The interest of the piece is confined exclusively to Antigone, and rises and falls as she appears and disappears from the scene. Her character is conceived in a noble spirit, in which there is loftiness without exaggeration; and the execution is not less masterly. The glowing, majestic, heartfelt sentiments put into her mouth, are just such as might be exrected from a nature of her heroic stamp ; but which, oweeer essentially elevated it may be in its imbued ding wtiothne ofa thought and feeling, is yet keen sense of the more homely, familiar, and domestic affections. Like the Alcestes of Euripides --one of the most delightful female portraits ever drawn by the magic pen of genius—Antigone merits the highest praise for the completeness and harmony of the conception. The touches are carefully laid on one by one, and the course of emotion proceeds in exact accordance with —what philosopher Square would call—" the fitness of things." In reverting once again to the plot, we cannot forbear from commenting on the exquisite skill with w hich the spirited hymn to Bacchus is introduced. This has evidently been done with a "iiew to relieve the more tragic portions of the play, and so give variety to its otherIris* somewhat monotonous character. fhe chorus sing the hymn—and a noble piece of music it is— lander the impression that Antigone will be released 411 d all er.d happily; but the catastrophe has already bean wrought, and the tragic tone of the subsequent lePnPs acquires tenFolci ferce from the brief gleam of eherrfumess by which the, here- been preceded. Of the per Formers, all played their parts creditably, and 'one or two with sups rtor feehig and judgment. Mr. Vllntlenhuti, as Creon, declainied with etilphanis and - propriety though o:casionally his manner was 4ornewhat too cold and formal and Miss Vandenhoff exhibited more feeling as Antigone, than in any character in which she has yet appeared " the stage. The numerous choruses were admi1141Y managed, and every possible effect was given 4.6 the delightful music or Bartholdy. The hazardous 'lPeriment of the performance of a Greek play having Itt)vv.• been made, and with comparative success, we Ire not without hopes that it will, ere long, he repeated. There is more of incident, variety, and Thriskness of action in the CEdipu3 Tyrannus than in the -Antigone of Sophocles; and, judging from last ihighe3 performance, we cannot but think that the 6104ing scenes of the Coloneus, when the unseen voice of Destiny is heard summonieg Edipus 11.ladgment in the gloomy depths of the grove coneerated to the Furies, would—if aided by imressive and appropriate music such as Bartholdy hag shown himself capable of composing Produce a very striking effect. It is highly 'creditable to the taste of an ,eiglish audience that they paid the most marked attention throughout the tntire performance of Antigone. One or two of its more impassioned sentiments—the genuine utterances of humanity as it existed two thousand years ago, sod Will exist through all time—were received with loud aPPlause ; and at the fall of the curtain Mr. audenhoff and his daughter were called on to reethe the Congratulations of the audience.