New-Yorker Stadt-Theater Opera: Martha

“Whatever may be said of the defects of Wachtel as an artist, in the literal sense of the term —and that he has his share there is no doubt—his popularity as an operatic singer is unquestionable. Altogether, aside from his European reputation, he has succeeded, and very quickly, in winning a host of admirers, who do not hesitate to pronounce him a perfect phenomenon as a vocalist. This is all very well, but Herr Wachtel displays, nevertheless, numerous radical faults, scarcely observable by an entire audience, yet plainly evident to all who can thoroughly comprehend and appreciate the efforts of an accomplished artist. In a word, Wachtel shows entirely too much musical economy, so to speak, and, in reserving his voice perhaps three-fourths of an evening, awaits the opportunity for a brilliant effect, and thus, by a tremendous sensation, takes the house by storm. A decided impression is at once created by the pyrotechnic rendition of a few bars, and the assemblage, forgetting all else, becomes enraptured by the marvelous exhibition of the singer’s extraordinary powers. This was the case last evening. Wachtel appeared as Lionel, in Flotow’s opera of ‘Martha,’ before a house crowded to overflowing and eager to listen to the enchanting high notes of the great German tenor. With the exception of the highly artistic performance of Nancy by Miss Clara Perl, who, by the way, is always equal to her part, there was nothing in the first act worthy of notice. The solo profugo was but indifferently rendered by Herr Wachtel, who, as already mentioned, was proceeding on the plan of vocal economy. In the second act the spinning wheel quartet received a pretty fair interpretation, while the final quartet of this scene was deservedly well received; but the rendition of the famous Irish air, ‘The Last Rose of Summer,’ which Flotow has adroitly dove-tailed into his opera, was about as execrable as it could be. Frau Rotter has evidently not gotten over what seems to be a chronic hoarseness, and it was occasionally painful to witness her facial exertions in the cause of art. In marked contrast to her performance was that of Clara Perl, who throughout the evening was easy, graceful and in splendid voice. Without going much into details, for the support was wretched, it may be as well to mention that the part of Plunket, as personated by Herr Vierling, was about as clownish a representation as could be imagined. He seemed to be afflicted with a very sore heel all the evening, and his rendering of the fine drinking song in the beginning of the third act was nothing more nor less than a vigorous though discordant howl. However, these are only secondary matters to be considered. The auditors went to hear Wachtel, and that gentleman worked them up to a pitch of enthusiasm seldom seen within the walls of a theatre. But this was not until the third act, when entering disconsolately and detaching ‘The sweet flower from its frail, trembling stem,’ he sang ‘M’Appari.’ It was unquestionably a glorious effort, marked by great depth of feeling, exquisite tenderness and a requisite power that thrilled the house. Nothing could exceed the amount of pathos and beauty of expression with which he surrounded this charming air, and when he had concluded his brilliant display the audience almost rose en masse and enthusiastically demanded an encore, which was gracefully responded to. Wachtel assuredly distinguished himself, and added another to the many sensations he has already created by his wonderful electric flourishes. The fourth act was pleasantly gone through with, and one of the largest assemblages that ever congregated in the Stadt squeezed itself out, apparently delighted.”

“Herr Wachtel was heard in ‘Martha’ last evening, and he again elicited those uproarious demonstrations of delight which no artist in the past few years has been potent or fortunate enough to evoke. The outbreaks, it is true, were less numerous, but only because the character is inferior in prominence and scope to those the tenor fills in ‘The Postillion of Lonjumeau,’ ‘Il Trovatore,’ and ‘La Dame Blanche.’ As a performance, Lionel is quite as creditable to Herr Wachtel as his earlier efforts. It is, like these, made remarkable by the charm and force of a noble voice, by the skill of a finished artist, and by the continual display of that talent as a comedian, from the lack of which we need little foresight to prophesy that many much-admired pictures will suffer hereafter in the opinion of local audiences. As for the telling incidents, vocal and dramatic, in ‘Martha,’ these, as implied above, had, yesterday, the loudest evidences of appreciation. Herr Wachtel sang in the duet in the second act with infinite feeling, and his brief invocation of pleasant dreams following that piece may be named as offering in its nine bars as conclusive proof of the tenor’s taste and culture as could be sought. The familiar story of the vision was, of course, grandly recited in respect of phrasing, expression and gradation, and the final high B flat was taken —as it was, indeed, in the first act, in the duet with Herr Vierling—with perfect ease. This piece was repeated. The finale of the same act was full of vigor; the whole of the last became impressive by the spectacle of a Lionel whose mad melancholy was, for the first time in this City, illustrated by something more than words and tunes. The remaining parts in Flotow’s opera were assumed by Fraulein Perl, who acted and sang exceedingly well, and won much applause, and by Herr Franosch.”