Scan 24
Musical Courier 1891-12-16: Vol 23 Iss 617, 1891
43 lines. Read by computer on 19 September 2026. Printed page 721. See the scan on archive.org.
1OPENING OF THE Opera Season. "ROMEO AND JULIET." THE ABBEY-GRAU COMPANY.
3ONE of Mr. Ira D. Sankey's pathetico-religious ballads has a refrain which is a tinkling repetition of the torturing conundrum, "What shall the harvest be?" Some such painful interrogatory as this must be the chief food for reflection in the mind of Messrs. Henry E. Abbey and Maurice Grau after the opening of their season of opera in the French and Italian languages at the Metropolitan Opera House on Monday evening. It is not the province of the critic to discuss the pecuniary prospects of any amusement enterprise. That is, of course, the business of the managers. But we may be pardoned for remarking with some brevity and a good deal of emphasis that we are glad that we are not the managers.
5To be sure, the house was full; but whoever sees a first night house in these days that is not full? Does the thoughtful reader rejoice in the possession of many friends who would decline to go to the opera if they could get tickets for nothing?
7The house, then, was full; and there was no lack of applause and bravi in the good old-fashioned style so dear to our ancestors. These demonstrations of deep joy may be accepted with becoming gratitude by Mr. Abbey, Mr. Grau and the expensive luxuries of song whom they have taken under their benevolent protection for a brief and, let us hope, profitable season. But we may be pardoned for hazarding the opinion that "Io Triomphe" is a pean which has greater significance after the battle than before it. If the cream and gilt auditorium of the Metropolitan Opera House shall, on the day of Messrs. Abbey & Grau's final matinée, resound with cries of acclamation; if the artists and the conductor shall be called forth again and again to receive the homage of the public, we shall be ready to admit that there is a popular demand in this town for grand opera in the French and Italian languages. If memory is not too merry with us, it has been the custom of audiences present at the termination of recent seasons of grand opera under the direction of Messrs. Abbey & Grau to "fold their tents like Arabs, and silently steal away."
9No doubt it was the presence of the French language as a prominent factor in the brilliant plans of the enterprising impresarii that led to the selection of Mr. Charles Gounod's eau sucré opera "Romeo et Juliette" for the opening work of the season. Possibly the fact that the prima donna who has this work in her répertoire (we also speak French) rejoiced in the possession of a well advertised domestic romance of a shade much more becoming to the feminine complexion than the romance of Laura Schirmer-Mapleson, a romance made of linen warranted to stand public laundrying, may have had some influence in determining the choice; but it cannot be stated positively that this is a fact.
11Howsoever these things be, "Romeo et Juliette" it was, and the public had an opportunity of renewing its acquaintance with Mr. Gounod's soda lemonade imitation of the champagne of Shakespearian passion. Messrs. Barbier and Carré, the librettists of this work, also wrote the book of Mr. Gounod's "Faust;" and as in the latter they showed a profoundly Parisian appreciation of the ideas of Goethe, so in the former they have displayed a truly Gallic understanding of the thought of Shakespeare. None of the learned commentators or famous actors have done as much to enlighten the popular mind on the vexed questions of "Hamlet" as Ambroise Thomas, except, possibly, James Owen O'Connor. And no one has ever illuminated the dark places in "Faust" and "Romeo and Juliet" with such pretty tints of light as Mr. Gounod, amiably assisted by the combined genius of Barbier and Carré. Whether you like the illumination or not depends upon your capacity for the digestion of truth. It was that unparalleled novelist, Miss Laura Jean Libbey, who announced the theory that a novel should not represent the world and humanity as they are, but as a young girl would wish them to be. The combined intellects of Messrs. Barbier, Carré and Gounod have gone far toward representing the story of "Romeo and Juliet" as a young girl might wish it to be. And it must be further added to their praise that, although they are Frenchmen, there is nothing in their work to "bring the blush of shame to the cheek of modesty."
13It is all sweet, gentle, mellifluous. The swan toned violin and the melting violoncello raise their voices in ravishing concord of sweet sounds, measure upon measure, while the impertinent, self conceived cornet and the bullying trombone are compelled to sit for the most part in silence and listen to the lascivious pipings of flutes, oboes and clarinets. Here is an opera in which no rude elemental passions shall shock the gentle nerves. No aggressive "Siegfried" shall blow a rhythmic challenge on his horn, burst through flames, seize his bride from her couch of living rock and cry:
15On rapturous lips,
16My eyes look for pasture;
17With fathomless thirst
18My mouth is on fire.
20It is quite possible also that the hearer cannot find in the saccharine measures of Mr. Gounod's duet, "Non, ce n'est pas le jour," anything to recall to him the splendid passion which Shakespear's "Juliet" voiced in the words:
22My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
23My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
24The more I have, for both are infinite.
26But a truce to discussion of Mr. Gounod's shallow sentimentalism. His treatment of the glories of love in "Romeo et Juliette" is on a par with that of the glory of salvation in the "Redemption." Let us, therefore, dismiss the opera from further consideration and turn to the singers; for it is a generally accepted fact that in seasons of grand opera in the Italian (and French) languages the play is not the thing. Before leaving the music, however, let us say this: The accusation brought against Mr. Gounod by some learned Parisian critic, that he had striven in this opera to imitate the endless melody of Wagner, need not deter any crescent anti-Wagnerian from going to hear "Romeo et Juliette" when it is again offered for public consideration. The endless melody will not overwhelm him. It is even possible that he may fail to discover its endlessness.
28The art of bel canto has been recently spoken of in this community as a thing, though lost to ears, to memory dear. Gentle reader, on Monday evening it came back to us in all its glory and the populace bowed its head and wept for joy, more or less. To be sure, the world's greatest farewell was not in the cast of the opera and no one sang "Home, Sweet Home" between the acts; yet it was a great night for the art of bel canto. It has been one of the pet traditions of the anti-Teutons that only German singers wandered away from the pitch and sought for melody in fresh fields and pastures new. It has been one of their traditions that only German singers were unable to curl the gnarled trunks of their voices with the twining tendrils of the chromatic scale, that only German singers were innocent of staccati and incapable of singing sustained tones. After Monday evening's revelation of the recovered art of bel canto let no dog bark. This is a very great and glorious world in which we live, and Richard Wagner, Carl Maria von Weber, Ludwig von Beethoven and Wolfgang A. Mozart were not in it with Rossini, Bellini and Gounod in the art of writing for the human voice.
30Mrs. Emma Eames-Story, being a lady, commands precedence. Let us, therefore, consider her art of bel canto first. Mrs. Eames-Story was a tall and ligious "Juliet," troubled with chronic indisposition of the arms. Her voice is a very uneven soprano. The lowest notes are of sepulchral quality, and, as if they were not ghastly enough in their normal condition, the lady forces them with misguided enthusiasm. Her middle register is fairly good, and its notes are delivered with a tolerable amount of skill. The upper register is the best, but it is of extremely small extent, and when the prima donna essayed the upper dominant in the waltz song she narrowly escaped disaster. Mrs. Eames-Story can sing a fairly clear chromatic scale at a tempo which would never be suspected of inebriety; but her attempts at arpeggios and at ornamental passage work generally are provocative of cerebro-spinal chills.
32The prima donna sang the waltz song in a tentative style, and was heard to much better advantage in the ensuing duet, which is quite as difficult as Tosti's "Good-Bye." In its dramatic aspect Mrs. Eames-Story's interpretation of "Juliet" was calm and reposeful. Angular in appearance and action, she reduced the idyllic music of Mr. Gounod to a state of molasses-like sweetness and inertness. We do not wonder that the lady failed to make a profound impression on Chicago. In the metropolis of the West they are all hustlers. Mrs. Eames-Story's interpretation of "Juliet" would lull to rhythmic slumber an inebriated Comanche.
34Mr. Jean de Reszké, the "Romeo" of the evening, is a tenor who possesses a made voice and a manufactured reputation. He has had the honor of singing in most of the great cities of Europe, and he has come to us with the benison of Chicago resting fresh upon his manly brow. His voice is indescribable. It is a curious compound of tones in which one can readily find reminders of Jules Perotti, Tamagno and Victor Capoul; but it is not so large and sonorous as the voices of the first two nor so weary, stale, flat and unprofitable as that of the last of the trio. In the lower and middle registers the voice has the dissipated oboe timbre of the French school, while the highest notes have a leaning toward the quality of the yellow clarinet. We do not know whether Mr. De Reszké ever heard of what the Germans call the "bebung," but he has it very badly. It is not a tremolo, however, and that is to his credit. Except in the case of his high notes this tenor produces his voice with the same care and tenderness as that with which Russell Sage produces a $5 bill; but all notes above the staff Mr. De Reszké carries by assault, not unmingled with battery. His delivery is as full of explosions as a dynamite factory, yet he sings with a good deal of feeling and often startles his audience.
36The one great artist who appeared on Monday evening was the tenor's brother, Edouard de Reszké. He is a basso whose physical and artistic stature is of the highest. He has a noble voice, of no great profundity of range, but of sufficient compass and of splendid power, immense sonority and fine quality. It did not impress us on Monday evening as being velvet-like in the matter of smoothness, but perhaps the singer was a little hoarse. We are willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. His phrasing was magnificent in its breadth and symmetry, and his delivery of the music of "Friar Laurence" was, on the whole, admirable in its dignity and sincerity. As we have intimated, Edouard de Reszké is a man of imposing appearance and he has an expressive countenance. His acting was manly, and we believe that he will give the public more unalloyed pleasure than any other member of the company. It is a significant commentary on his associates that he made the most pronounced success of the evening. When a basso does this it means that there is a good deal of weakness in the rest of the company.
38And now the painful truth must be told that the last word of praise has been spoken. The "Mercutio" was a curiously shaped person named Martapoura. This curvilinear little gentleman rejoices in the possession of a gelatinous baritone voice. That is to say it is in a state of ceaseless wabble, like a mold of jelly. It wabbled through the "Queen Mab" song in a manner which reminded the hearer of the passing of snake fence by the window of an express train.
40If this must be said of Mr. Martapoura's vocal misfortune, what shall we say of the voice of Mr. Mangini-Coletti? It possesses a more swift and thrilling wabble than the voice of Mr. Martapoura, and suggests to the hearer that it was born in a swampy country, where fever and ague are bred in the bone. Mr. Mangini-Coletti appeared in the rôle of the much injured father of all the Capulets, and he succeeded in arousing deep sympathy for that unfortunate person.
42The part of "Tybalt" was in the hands of Mr. Vic-
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