Albites Italian Opera: La traviata

“Irving place, Fourteenth and Fifteenth streets presented last night such an array of equipages as is seldom seen even at one of the great balls of the Academy. From Union square for a few blocks around surged a mass of carriages, excited drivers and expostulating policemen, and up the steps of the opera house and Steinway Hall tripped dainty feet and rustled rich toilets. It was, indeed, a gala night for the divine art, and the élite of the city assembled in overwhelming force to listen to the story of ‘La Dame aux Camelias’ interpreted by Miss Kellogg at the Academy, and a programme of classical music by the Church Music Association at Steinway’s. It has been remarked by some unthinking people that the class of people who patronize music in this city is comparatively small, and that first class entertainments can only be upheld by the few on whom Fortune has smiled, and that such luxuries will not receive the patronage of the great public. Last night proved the utter falsity of this assertion. Instead of the opera and the Church Music Association concert injuring each other, both the Opera House and Steinway Hall were crowded to their fullest extent, and fashion reigned supreme in both houses. This proves incontestably that art, when offered in its most attractive form, will always find a host of patrons in the metropolis, and it should be an encouragement to the stockholders of the Academy to abandon all their foolish, narrow-minded policy, and throw the building open to the public, without the burden of rights and privileges clogging a manager’s hands. The orchestra and dress circles and the boxes of the house were ablaze with beauty and fashion when the curtain rose on the gay party of guests at the Traviata’s Parisian mansion. It is now, lacking a few days, fifteen years since Piccolomini appeared for the first time in this opera at Her Majesty’s, and made it one of the most popular works of Verdi. It signally failed at its first production in Italy, with Albertini as the heroine, and would have remained forever on the shelves of M. Ricardo at Milan had it not been rescued from oblivion by Maria Piccolomini. Since that period, despite the objectionable character of the story, ‘Traviata’ has been essayed by each successive star, and in Miss Kellogg it has found a representative scarcely inferior to any of her predecessors. The rôle of Violetta is more imperative in its demands in acting than even singing, from the playful vivacity exhibited at the opening among her gay and reckless companions; her wild despair in bidding farewell to her lover; her mortal anguish of spirit in listening to the passionate reproaches and denunciation to the pathetic details of the death which severs her from the joys and sorrows of a world in which she has sparkled so brightly and so briefly. Miss Kellogg fairly outshone all her former triumphs, and it would be difficult to name any other rôle in which she has exhibited such sterling qualities both as an actress and a singer. The beautiful finale to the first act, Ah! fors e lui, was given with such effect that a unanimous recall was the unavoidable consequence. In taking leave of Alfredo, after the promise wrung from her by his father, her whole soul seemed to go forth in the passionate exclamation, ‘Amami, quant’ io t’amo addio!’ Again the lowest depths of despair seemed to be reached when in the last act she exclaimed Gran Dio! Morir si giovane, and like the drowning wretch that proverbially clutches at a straw she charged her attendant to tell the physician that she must have life. She wore a different toilet in each act—that of the ballroom being particularly striking. It consisted of a robe of corn-colored silk, flounced with gaze de Chambéry, with wide satin stripes of the same color. An elegant overskirt had an apron front of white gaze de Chambéry, trimmed with lace and rich embroidered flowers. A long train of light blue colored silk fell at the back, and was edged with heavy cord of corn-colored silk to match the underskirt, decolleté corsage, tastefully trimmed, to match. The new tenore di grazia, Signor Caroselli, made his debût as Alfredo. He has an attractive and handsome stage presence, which is, however, completely nullified by his excessive awkwardness. We do not allude particularly to his unfortunate tumble in the last act at his entrance on the stage, but in every scene he showed a lamentable ignorance of the first rudiments of acting. His voice is light and pleasing, but unable to express the conflicting passions of such a rôle with effect. In the third act, when he flings the purse at the feet of Violetta, and in the last scene, he exhibited some dramatic emotion; but he must act and sing very differently the next time to produce a favorable impression. The Germont (père) was Albert Laurence, who consented to sing the rôle at an hour’s notice, Signor Orlandini being indisposed. He achieved a very fair success, and sang much better than ever we have heard him before. Once or twice in his first duet with Miss Kellogg his voice stumbled at points where the ‘cuts’ in the score came in, but he promptly recovered himself. He sang ‘Pura Siccome un Angelo’ and ‘Di Provenza il Mar’ with exquisite expression, and taking into consideration the fact that he had no rehearsal, Mr. Lawrence can be congratulated warmly on his success. The chorus was better than usual, and the orchestra, with the exception of a few shocking blunders in some minor details, responded satisfactorily to Signor Nicolao’s baton.”

“The story of a checkered life, drawn from one of the chapters in the biography of woman, was never more plaintively told in the language of sound than in the opera of ‘Traviata.’ Verdi seems to have had one of his happy inspirations in contemplating the wreck of virtue in one so fair and noble as Violetta. In this respect he is not unlike the stern and majestic Milton of a northern clime, whose pen assumed brighter colors in painting the fallen greatness of Satan. To genius there is nothing so repulsive as the starched propriety of conventional life, the result of mechanical habit, frozen calculation, or the ebb of vitality. But the spell of ‘Traviata’ is unfailing. The musical pearls of this opera adorn too sad and dramatic a thread of life, give too vivid a picture of its fatalities and its social convulsions ever to lose their fascination for the public. The dramatic and musical charm of the character was beautifully sustained and portrayed by Miss Kellogg, whose artistic intelligence and refinement are so marked in all she does. The interpretation of the music and its object become all the more beautiful through their own elevation of character and chaste musical instinct. Who could better render the Violetta of Verdi than the artist who has made the Margaret of Gounod her own?

“Signor Caroselli, the new tenor, was pretty successful, and if he did not electrify the audience he certainly did not travesty the music. He was evidently nervous and embarrassed, and it could be rash to judge him prematurely. He acted and sang with care, and was creditably free from musical sins of commission. His voice is pleasing, uniform, and without any unpleasant breaks or flaws.

“Mr. Lawrence did himself great credit both in his acting and singing, and considering that he took the character without the necessary preparation, he made a decided success. To a voice full and sweet, he adds great taste and an admirable method.”

“A capital house greeted the presentation of ‘La Traviata’ at the Academy. Not in numbers merely, but in fashion and taste, the gathering was one for music lovers in general and the friends of the management in particular to rejoice over. If Mr. Albites can keep on as he has begun, the success of his risky adventure will be assured. ‘La Traviata’ has always been a popular work here, but it is undeniably threadbare, and last night clearly showed, therefore, that a veritable hunger for Italian opera exists among New-Yorkers, which has only to be well catered for to bring about golden results. The debut of the new tenor di grazia, Signor Enrico Caroselli, did much, no doubt, to swell attendance on this occasion, and the Violetta of Miss Kellogg is one of her best performances. Signor Caroselli is young, comely and well taught. He is evidently comparatively new to the stage, but his action, although constrained at times, is graceful, manly and unaffected, while, though last not least, his voice is thoroughly satisfactory. It is a pure, high tenor, without phenomenal notes, so far as we can judge by a first hearing, but exceedingly smooth and even in register and well endowed with those sympathetic qualities the value of which can hardly be overestimated. Signor Caroselli was obviously very nervous last night, and took his music, in the first acting, with something of tremor and hesitancy. He improved, however, as he went one, alike in strength, sweetness and fervor, and the impression at last became general that he is destined to achieve decided success hereafter.

“Miss Kellogg gives to Violetta delightful spirit and variety; and in the latter portions she last night reached an intensity of feeling which has been all that has been heretofore lacking to make her embodiment approach near to perfection. Her brilliant execution in the familiar numbers of the first act won hearty plaudits and a call before the curtain; and her loyal efforts thereafter, when contending with some not altogether foreseen difficulties, merit warm recognition. Violetta calls for serious exertion of all the best faculties of an artist, physical as well as intellectual; and when we say that Miss Kellogg in every way fills out a satisfactory and even an exacting ideal, the praise is in no sense overstrained. There were some unfortunate circumstances last night. Signor Orlandini, as we learned by the house bill, was suddenly indisposed, and Signor Laurence was therefore, at very short notice, put into the trying part of Germont. It will really be a pleasure to hear a baritone who can sing in time, and some time or another, perhaps, we of New-York may hope for it. With no unkind feeling for Signor Laurence, who no doubt did his best in a critical exigency, we must record that the artistic effect of the opera was somewhat marred by the contretemps, and the management have reason to congratulate  themselves on slipping through the difficulty, so far as the public are concerned, with such comparative ease. ‘La Traviata’ was put on the stage with as much care as ‘Il Poliuto,’ and it must be owned that Mr. Albites is manifestly taking all possible pains to keep his word with the public, and to answer reasonable expectations. It is said that what everybody expects never happens, and the saying may meet fresh exemplification in a successful opera season that few have anticipated. If so, the daring manager will have an enviable feather in his cap, and one that may well encourage him to new and prosperous undertakings hereafter.”

“The second opera night was in one respect more successful than the first. The audience was a large one on Monday, but last evening the Academy was densely crowded, and ‘good society’ was unusually well represented. Miss Kellogg’s Violetta was the chief attraction. Dramatically this is not one of her best parts, although even as a piece of acting it is at least satisfactory; but she sings the music with all the sweetness, purity, ease, and grace which have made her such a favorite, and with much more force and fire than one who knew her only in her more familiar roles would give her credit for possessing. The Winter’s campaign of travel and concert giving has not impaired her powers in the least. She returns to the metropolitan stage with even more than her usual strength, and we need hardly say with all her usual personal attractions. Whatever success the opera troupe has thus far achieved is due almost entirely to her. The new tenor di grazia, Caroselli, made his debut in the role of Alfredo. His voice is rather light, and thin, and hardly strong enough for the Academy of Music; but it is of fair quality and tolerable culture, and he produces his tones, such as they are, after a much better method than Villani. We cannot record for him a cordial greeting—indeed, his reception was singularly cold, and throughout the performance the audience withheld the recognition to which he was fairly entitled; but, like Villani, he is a trustworthy singer who will probably satisfy us in the long run better than some who start with fairer promise. He was not quite at his ease, and not acquainted with the acoustic requirements of the house. On a second hearing we dare say he will be liked better. The part of Germont was filled by Mr. Alberto Laurence, replacing Orlandini, who it on the sick list. It was Mr. Laurence’s first appearance on the Italian stage in this country. It suits him much better than the English. His culture has been entirely in Italian schools, and his method is formed upon the genuine and natural Italian model. Mr. Laurence has a strong and grateful voice, expression, good dramatic action, and a prepossessing appearance, and we shall be glad to hear him often. The rest of the cast, last evening, calls for no particular remark.”

“There is no doubt now that Mr. Albites is to be abundantly rewarded for his venture at the Academy of Music. He had an excellent house at the matinée performance of ‘La Traviata’ on Saturday.”