Kelly and Leon’s Minstrels

“….They’re doing a parody [of La Grande duchesse de Gérolstein] at Kelly and Leon’s minstrels, on Broadway, across from the New York Hotel. If it’s true that parody is the consecration of works of genius, Offenbach’s score has even more merit in it than we had suspected. One can ask oneself how a parody of a parody is possible: these gentlemen painted in black have tempted fate, and they have succeeded at the mercy of the American public, who accord them immense success. For our French taste, nothing is as wretchedly stupid. All the wit consists of puns like that of the title The Grand Dutch Cheese, ‘the big cheese from Holland.’ How sharp and tasty that is! M. Leon, who plays the Grand Duchess, sings the first verse of the Sabre [Voici le sabre de mon père] in French, and says wittily: ‘Voilà le cheese-knife de mon père”—that is to say, 'Here’s my father’s cheese-knife.’ All the wit of the caricature revolves around this delightful jest. They’ve decorated the very curtain with a Grand Duchess holding a fan in the form of a cheese on which one reads: Limburger.

The lampoons of these minstrels are generally extremely silly: the tomfooleries of these buffoons mimicking negroes are dismal. The lowest clowns of our [country] fairs have one hundred times more delicacy. One hears on the stage of the “minstrels” only rustic, foolish quibbles that make [you] shrug [your] shoulders out of pity. Wit, that indefinable thing, is absolutely lacking. There are only hideous grimaces and caricatures that are as degrading as they are repugnant.

These false negroes could make the best of the Grand Dutch Cheese to a certain extent. Such as they are, you could believe you’re seeing a kind of court of Soulanque [Haitian president, emperor from 1847-1859, caricatured by “Cham” (pseudonym) in 1850]. Boum resembles a mistaken Haitian general. Prince Paul isn’t unlike a prince of Trou Bourbon or some duke of Marmelade, Fritz makes you dream of Poulet Sauvageon and the Duchess’s army recalls the Cocos. It’s only lacking the famous badges made of sardine-boxes with which Faustin adorned his battalions.

In brief, Kelly and Leon’s piece has nothing that could please French taste. You assure [us] that there’s no accounting for taste. We aren’t of that opinion. There is certainly good and bad taste, genuine taste and false taste. Finally, there are some mortals for whom nature made a harsh stepmother and who have absolutely no taste; the Grand Dutch Cheese can please them. As for the rest of it, the hall is always full, and you have to get your seats in advance. It’s the former hall of Hope’s Chapel, which served in other times the lamentations and teeth-gnashing of red republicans from every country. If unluckily a fire breaks out in this little den during a performance, it’s probable that three quarters of the spectators would be grilled without mercy.”

“Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Gerolstein, so admirably burlesqued at this theatre, was produced for the forty-fourth time last night, an evidence that in point of fun, good costumes, scenery and admirable effects the ‘Grand Dutch S’ has no superior in our minstrel halls. Mr. Leon has been very successful in getting up this capital caricature of the most popular light opera of the hour.”

“Leon's latest production, the burlesque of the ‘Grand Dutch S,’ produced at Kelly and Leon’s Minstrels on Feb. 3 d, and which has been attracting crowded houses every night since, is the best constructed and most successful of all his previous burlesques. It has been placed upon the stage in a manner that would do credit to any theatre in the city. The costumes are all new, and some of them very handsome, particularly those worn by Leon and Nelse Seymour. A most excellent chorus has been secured to give due effect to the original music of the ‘Dutch S,’ many of the most popular airs being introduced, all of which are splendidly rendered. During the past week the lime lights were introduced, and added considerably to the grand effect of the tableau [sic].  Several new choristers were also added last week, and the burlesque was as attractive as on its first production, the hall not only being densely crowded every night, but on some evenings quite a number of ladies could not obtain seats. Leon appears to so much advantage in his female impersonations in his burlesque that he should quit doing such acts as ‘Salamagundi Johnson’. It is one of those acts that a few may laugh at for the time being but they leave a very bad impression afterwards with a majority of the frequenters of his hall. Lweon is too good an artist in his specialty off female inpersonations to permit himself to adopt any other style of business. There are song and dance men who make a feature of such acts as ‘Salamagundi,’ which, at the best, is too extravagant in its style to please a lady audience.”