Albites Italian Opera: Martha

“A crowded house, and a clever performance of ‘Martha,’ were the pleasant features of last evening at the Academy of Music. Miss Kellogg in the principal part of this work always gives much satisfaction, and met with her usual success last night. The tenor, Caroselli, did much better than in the other operas in which he has taken part.”

“Flotow’s sparkling little opera, which bubbles over with sprightliness and humor, from beginning to end and never fails to please the popular taste, drew an immense house to the Academy last night. The quartet in the cast consisted of [see above]. Martha is one of Miss Kellogg’s popular rôles, ranking with her Zerlina and Rosina. She brings to it a vivacity and dash that lights up the opera throughout, and keeps everyone in the best of humor. Mme. Himela appeared to better advantage as Nancy than as Siebel, and, with the exception of a want of that irresistible grace and coquettishness that one looks for in such a rôle, she met with fair success. The only fault we could find with Caroselli, as Lionel, was that but a small proportion of the audience could hear his voice in any part of the opera. This may have been caused either by the extremely light quality of the gentleman’s voice or more probably by the incessant and overpowering din of Signor Nicolao’s orchestra. This conductor evidently mistook the opera for one of Wagner’s and assailed it con tutta forza accordingly.  Susini was an excellent Plunkett, and his big voice was kept within pretty fair bounds.”

“The performance of ‘Martha’ at the Academy of Music last evening attracted an audience that filled the house, and expressed frequent and hearty approval of the performance. That so well-known an opera should be so potent a magnet, proves that in respect of music, at least, familiarity does not always breed contempt. The pleasant anticipation of a satisfying recital would, however, excuse the delivery of a more undeservedly hackneyed score. Besides, the general impression of the entertainments given under the direction of Signor Albites has been so favorable that the announced distribution of the parts almost made the subject-matter of the night of secondary importance. An exceedingly sprightly and fascinating personation of Lady Henrietta, by Miss Kellogg, an animated Lionello in shape of Signor Caroselli, and a vigorous genial Plunkett, with the organ and features of Signor Susini, made good the promise of the bills, while the work of the comprimarii and chorus was as creditable as the conditions under which opera lives in New-York can be expected to allow. That the labors of the orchestra should to some extent suffer from the same causes is natural, but much better results would follow a less persistent disregard not only of the tempos and shades of the printed sheets, but of the qualities and peculiarities of the singers. Signor Nicolao was not guilty yesterday of the patent misdeeds of earlier evenings, but the delivery was unusually coarse, hurried, and utterly heedless of the requirements of the artists. We need not linger upon the achievements of the trio referred to above. The salient points of ‘Martha’ were as patiently awaited as ever, and the easily-forseen demands for repeats followed ‘The Last Rose of Summer,’ and the ‘M’Appari,’ to the utterance of which Signor Caroselli’s warmth gave an appreciable and acknowledged charm. Signor Susini’s drinking verses narrowly escaped equal honors, to which an unusual steadiness and an habitual volume of voice, and a laudable avoidance of elaborate cadences, really entitled him. The opening quartet and the ‘Good Night’ quartet were reasonably effective, but the balancing power of the contralto was missed in both. In other words, the hopes founded upon Mme. Himela’s introductory appearance were for realized [sic], for the first act’s incidents last night made Nancy’s silence more desirable than her song. Finally, there were plenty of force and impressiveness in the finale of the third act.”

“If it is sweet to be silly on occasion, ‘Martha,’ it must be confessed, the classicists to the contrary notwithstanding, is very delightful fooling. After the mathematico-contrpuntal difficulties of Meyerbeer or Wagner, it is refreshing to lie back in one’s [seat?] and listen with half-closed eyes and restful spirit to music which sings itself. This pleasure last night, however, was not of unmixed character, and Flotow’s high-colored melodies and stirring choruses had to be received with the usual large grain of deduction for deficiencies in the rendering.

"Miss Kellogg sings Martha uncommonly well, if by singing we mean the utterance of so many musical notes in their proper sequence, with due regard to neatness of execution, and delicacy and distinctness of phrasing. If by the term, however, we mean anything like real fire, feeling, or dramatic conception of the music, our praise must cease. Miss Kellogg, charming and graceful as she is, walks serenely through the rôle of Martha as though most of those in which we have heard her, in action, as in music, unimpressing and unimpressed.

“Apart from the mere mechanical satisfaction of listening to Miss Kellogg’s liquid and vibrant notes, decidedly the sensation of last evening was the surprise and pleasure of discovering in Sig. Canselli a more finished artist and charming singer than we had been inclined to believe at his début. The patent deficiencies of his voice—its sadly worn and shaky condition in the middle register, and incapacity for sustained effort—cannot blind us to the natural sweetness of the organ, or the grace, feeling, and correctness of his delivery. Such numbers as ride del mio pianto, and Il mis squarda, were sung with great delicacy of sentiment, and the scene questa man was given with unusual dramatic [force?].

“Sig. Susini as Plunkett makes the hearer regret that quantity and quality so rarely go together. As the first rule in billiards is to hit the ball, so a fundamental rule in music, it might be supposed, would be to hit the note. For lack of observance of this simple principle, Sig. Susini spoiled much charming concerted music last evening, in which his noble bass voice—well guided—might have been most effective. He was dutifully aided therein by Mme. Himela, who, as the arch and good-humored confidante, was preeminently inefficient.

“Chorus and orchestra, after their wont, did their best to illustrate ‘The Semi-detached Couple,’ and succeeded largely.”