Article on singers in Maretzek's Italian Opera Company

    "M. Maretzek has occasion to be satisfied. The public has welcomed the new Italian company warmly, and compensated the impresario very well for his efforts. The Trovatore, La Traviata, Lucrezia Borgia, Lucia had worthy new artists to interpret them.

    Let us speak first of Mme Carozzi-Zucchi, who leaves all the singers we have heard in New York for a long time far behind. To electrify her listeners, Mme Carozzi has only to present herself and sing a few measures. This artiste is a singer of that great school which unfortunately is getting more lost every day. She doesn't throw sounds out by chance and still believes that for the great art of singing, one must have not only a voice but also method, style and study. Mme Carozze can't complain about her natural gifts, which she has in abundance, but she isn't content merely with her sounds, she knew how to perfect them. Even in the operas of M. Verdi, like the Trovatore, she abstains from screaming; she always sings. She conducts her beautiful soprano voice--warm and congenial, and of a rare range--admirably; she knows what it is to swell and spin out a sound, and to phrase a recitative; her organ lends itself to all kinds of expressiveness, from tenderness to fury, from joy to terror. Never a doubtful intonation, never one of those piercing and discordant screams with which too many singers believe carry away the audience. Mme Crozzi has some perfections that are appreciated only by delicate ears, and she can sustain a comparison with any singer justly famous in Europe.

    Excellent in the Trovatore, Mme Caorzzi-Zucchi outdid herself in Lucrezia. She was accomplished in the duet with the Duke of Ferrara. The music of Donizetti, always so flowing and melodious, suits her voice better than that of M. Verdi.

    As a tragedienne, Mme Carozzi is almost at the height of her talent as a singer. She is always in character, and always genuine: one could scarcely reproach her for certain exaggerations in her gestures. Some people have blamed her for appearing too young in Lucrezia, but that's one of the faults that there's always time to amend. We could exhaust all the formulas of praise on Mme Carozzi's account, but they have been used indiscriminately, they have become banal, and we content ourselves with thanking M. Maretzek, in the name of all music-lovers in New York, for having brought her to the Imperial City.

     The second debutante, Mlle Brambilla, belongs to a family celebrated in the pageantry of the Italian scene. We heard her only once, in the Traviata. In the first three acts, her voice appeared a bit weak to us, sometimes even a bit shrill. In the fourth act, Mlle Brambill was much more satisfying. Until a new hearing, we regard her as a light singer, adequate, but hardly able to portray passion. Her method of voice production is defective, and she is not always sure of her vocalises.

    Mlle Morensi was applauded much more in Lucrezia than in the Trovatore, and that's fair. Whether it's emotion, or illness, this singer was not up to her usual self as Azucena. She possesses an admirable instrument, and she needs only a bit more study and a bit more security to acquire the title of a good reputation. She would also do well to polish her acting. She has all the allures and all the great gestures of grand opera, but her face remains too impassible.

    Mlle Harris, who debuted last year, is a good musician, but you suffer for her sometimes, because you're afraid that she may be overcome by affliction. Her voice is pure and true, but she has such a thin stream [of sound]  that you tremble lest the source suddenly dry up. Mlle Harris is quite young and too frail to attempt opera, and  it would be better for her to not yield to unwise offers and to wait until time has given a bit more weight to her person and to her powers. She should be careful; her voice hasn't yet formed, and she risks wrecking it forever in  binding herself to force it during a period of transition. In the ensembles, it's almost impossible to hear Mlle Harris, and her exertions harm the listener. She is correct in her singing, but she is cold: she doesn't know how to be otherwise; she is not at an age where one is capable of showing and expressing passion. The same for her acting. Mlle Harris is a pretty flower exposed too soon to the glare of the footlights, which give radiance to robust flowers and make them bloom, but too often wither those that do not yet have the strength to tolerate their beams."