Articles on Grau's Opera Season

“Our musical budget is the beggar’s wallet just now, for the opera has stopped—not ‘crushed out’ as the war-blazing journals all say, instead of ‘crushed;’ for the three houses of the week—we beg pardon—the season of three nights, have been magnificent. Not in the best days of peace and plenteousness, when taxes—National expenses—rated so little as to excite the wonderment of foreign publicists and investigators,—were the affluences of the opera in regard to the auditory more generous and glowing. Full, brilliant, dazzling arrays of toilets were present; all as though Peace had been signed and sealed, and the ‘Wayward (query ? Weird) Sisters’ had been brought back into the emollient embrace of the darling Union. Mr. Grau is, however, a Fabian, whatever that may mean; for, among the most recently excavated ‘Historic Doubts,’ is a Doubt as to whether Fabius did all that is ascribed to him; that is, that he abstained from doing it, practicing the art of ‘how not to do it.’ Be that as it may, Mr. Manager Grau is discreet. He takes no trouble or peril at a long discount. Carpe diem is his motto: freely translated:—play three nights at a time—leave the young ladies ravenously asking, Oliver Twist-like, for more, and go head-long to Philadelphia or head-longer to Boston, to make the bones of William Penn and Cotton Mather rattle in their respective Quaker and Puritan coffins, with the profane reverberations of the musical Am[illeg]. This short term opera is attended, of course, with disadvantages: it forbids novelties, which require repose and steadiness for rehearsals, and leave the opera not as full in details of performance or force as can be secured under a permanent system. It seems not a little strange that New-York, after all her boasted declamation on metropolitanism, should not, thus far, have made an opera—which is the test, among other signs, of metropolitanism in Europe—paying, settled, full-stored establishment. There ought to be a permanent grade for orchestral and choral force; there ought to be for the highest effects, of the lyrical drama, a grand organ built on the stage behind the scenes; there ought to be a military band, permanently within call—and these ought to be sustained by the stockholders, in the same way that they keep carriages of drink expensive wines—upheld, in a word, as luxuries, and paid for accordingly. But as it is, we are left to the energy of a manager to do what is required. The engagements for the regular season did not come off on account of the war; and it is entirely owing to the resolute and prudent direction of Mr. Grau that we have any opera at all, now. He has, however, been rewarded for his daring, and capital audiences have attended his exhibitions.”

“The matinée on Saturday brought Mr. Grau’s season to a very successful termination. It was crowded to the greatest capacity of the house, and with the three previous performances must have netted a very handsome profit to the impresario.” Mr. Grau’s plan of operations, if it leads to no result in an art point of view, possesses, at least, the merit of being thoroughly safe to himself. Two or three nights of opera in a city so fond of the entertainment must be successful, although it does not at all follow that artistically the performances will be good. It would be difficult, except on the ground of necessity, to account for the success of the last week. With the exception of Friday night, when ‘Don Giovanni’ was given, the performances outside of the more or less successful efforts of the vocal quartette were extremely mediocre. It could hardly be otherwise, for a long and steady season can alone support a respectable orchestra and chorus, and completeness rests on these auxiliaries. It is but just to Mr. Grau to say that his intentions were somewhat more ambitious than heretofore, but they were frustrated by the accident of Signor Brignoli’s indisposition. With a vocal company of unusual strength, he had, but for this contretemps, the opportunity of making his management memorable. Reduced to the briefest proportions, the most that can be said of the season is that it was successful in a pecuniary point of view, and that the prime donne under his direction, distinguished themselves in their few interpretations—especially Miss Kellogg, who, as Lady Henriette in ‘Martha,’ and Zerlina in ‘Don Giovanni,’ gave evidence of improved style and lightsome appreciation of serio-comic character. In parting with Miss Kellogg the public loses the best native prima donna the country has yet produced. Mr. Grau’s company appears tonight at the Boston theatre.”