Parepa-Rosa English Opera: The Bohemian Girl

“The Academy of Music was crowded last night, being the second subscription night of the season. The opera was the favorite ‘Bohemian Girl,’ with the old cast, except Mlle. Clara Doria and Mrs. Cook. Castle, Campbell and Seguin were apparently nerved to extra efforts, and all made a greater success than they ever did before. The new prima donna—Clara Doria—gained the sympathies of the audience and proved herself an artist in the highest sense of the word and the best Arline we have heard for many years—much better than either Rose Hersee or Caroline Richings. The chorus was superior to what the American public have been accustomed to, and Mr. Behrens led his magnificent orchestra admirably. Mrs. Cooke made a fair gypsy queen, and proved herself a deserving artist.”

“The representation of Balfe’s ‘Bohemian Girl’ last night at the Academy hardly carried out the anticipations warranted by the first openings of the season. The opera is pleasant and lively as a drama, and full of sweet and easy melodies, some of which fairly deserve their reputation. But the stage business contains some patent absurdities which nothing but great care and taste on the part of the performers can keep in the background. When a bandit of a fellow, who has just been comfortably locked up, walks out of the front door, while the baron and his crowd of friends obligingly look the other way, picks up at the front window of a six-year-old little maiden, presumably arrived at the age when kicking, scratching and squalling are familiar exercises, and coolly walks off with her—when, hereupon, the baron and his friends, instead of incontinently rushing after him, first hold a little gentle converse and mutual recrimination, and then pray a little (decidedly one of the best bits in the opera, by the way), before starting in pursuit, and then turn to find the bandit aforesaid, who has in the mean time tranversed countless leagues of coulisses and pasteboard cliffs and ravines, within some ten feet of them—when the commonest common sense of the spectator is so ruthlessly violated, as in all this, he must occasionally be excused if, instead of shuddering or weeping, he unkindly titters, as did the audience last night, to the detriment of the scenic effect.

The débutante of the evening, Miss Clara Doria, is a graceful and self-possessed girl, attentive in form and feature, and fairly well trained in vocal regards. Her voice is of limited compass and force, apt to get wiry when at all forced, but pure and tolerably flexible in medium or piano passages. Her phrasing and musical enunciation are distinct, her intonation in general accurate, and she executes an occasional cadenza or chromatic passage with commendable correctness and ease. But of color, force, or exceptional grace of organ or method, she shows at present but slight traces, and the hearer must trust to future growth and study for that which the present fails to supply.

Mr. Castle sang the part of Thaddeus with his usual sweetness, but hardly with his usual force. Mr. Campbell, as the Count, injured the effect of his really sound manly organ in the well-known aria ‘The heart bowed down’ by an exaggerated tremolo, which was picturesque, doubtless, as an indication of age and affliction, but not commendable as music. Mrs. Aynsley Cooke and Mr. E. Seguin were melodramatic in action but pre- eminently inefficient in the vocalism. The long scene between the Gypsy Queen and Devilshoof should be omitted, or honestly set down as a spoken interlude. The chorus, however, did manfully and well, and, in the prayer, especially, sung as it has not been our fate to hear a chorus sing for years past. The airy, lively music of the score helped to save the representation from utter dullness; but the company can do better things by far, and their friends will look for ‘Martha’ on Friday evening to confirm it.”

“Balfe’s most tuneful opera, in spite of barrel organs, infinite maltreatment, and the passage of time, still keeps its hold on popular regard. Like certain people in this world, it is constantly abused, and yet dearly liked. Every one says it is worn out and ought to be shelved, and every one goes promptly to hear it when it is put up. We believe the work has really drawn more money since it was first sung than any English opera of the list; and those who assisted at its representation last night at the Academy must be sure that the charm of the ‘Bohemian Girl’ is not yet broken, that her ‘Marble Halls’ retain the old fascination, and that ‘Then You’ll Remember Me,’ still warrants its assertion by abundant affectionate recognition.

A dense crowd, a general and quite unmistakable atmosphere of pleasant expectation, much curiosity about the new prima donna, and a steady briskness about all that was done on the stage and in the orchestra, may be said to tell the story of last night’s performance. Public interest never seemed to flag, and our observation about the perennial hold of the ‘Bohemian Girl’ on popular sympathy was strongly confirmed. Why this should be so, is, at the moment, a not uninteresting question; and perhaps, apart from the undeniable melodic beauty of the opera, its story is what appeals to the common heart. The tale of a love beginning in the infancy of its object, cherished with unfading devotion as the child blooms into a maiden, and the maiden into a woman—a love totally regardless of all adverse considerations, still clung to, even when obstacles seem absolutely insurmountable, and conquering at last in a gilded heaven of blissful consummation, is universally attractive. ‘All the world loves a lover,’ says Emerson, and Thaddeus is really so constant and manly a one that the affection is deserved. We do not underrate, of course, the picturesque qualities of the work. It has unusual variety and plenty of lively action; and the chief elements of prosperous lyric composition are thus richly provided for.

The Parepa-Rosa troupe is a double one, and the artists who appeared on Monday and Tuesday were replaced last night by an entirely fresh array. Miss Clara Doria made her début as Arline; Mr. William Castle effected his re-entrance as Thaddeus; Mr. S. C. Campbell appeared as the Count Arnheim; Mr. Edward Seguin repeated his well-known impersonation of Devilshoof, and Mrs. Aynsley Cooke represented the Gipsey Queen. Miss Clara Doria is a young singer, with a clear, bird-like, high soprano, limited dramatic knowledge, a delicate, girlish person and prepossessing manners. Although palpably very nervous last evening, she impressed her hearers agreeably from the first, and her opening aria, ‘I Dreamt that I Dwelt,’ was repeated amid universal plaudits. Miss Doria has been well taught, with much purity and sweetness of tone in an apparently somewhat limited register, and she executes with considerable taste and precision. She is not yet a lyric artist, in the full sense, or, in other words, she is not without some of the ordinary faults of the novice. Her promise, however, is decidedly good, and her gentle bearing and excellent vocal gifts and attainments will gain her popularity at an early stage in her career. This was emphatically manifested last night. Miss Doria was greeted with generous applause at every opportunity, and thus encouraged, her singing and acting improved greatly as she went on. The lady is to be congratulated on a highly successful debut.

Mr. Castle sang with considerable taste and plentiful vigor. He was in capital voice, and in ‘The Fair Land of Poland’ and ‘When Other Lips’ received lively proofs of the gratification of his auditors. The robustness of style latterly acquired by this tenor is displayed to advantage in Thaddeus, and the constancy of Arline is recommended by other obvious considerations. The music of the Count was given with much feeling and grace by Mr. Campbell, whose fine voice we are glad to find in admirable order and control. His ‘Heart Bowed Down,’ was enthusiastically encored. Mr. Seguin’s Devilshoof, like that of his father before him, grows on the public with familiarity. It was acted and sung last night with a great deal of spirit, and it is seldom so picturesque a figure is seen either on or off the stage. The band and chorus of the occasion deserve a repetition of the praise won by them at the opening.”

No performance Saturday night, as previously advertised, because of rehearsals for next Monday’s performance.

[First part of the review discusses the beginning of the season.] “Wednesday was devoted to ‘The Bohemian Girl,’ whose pretty melodies it seems impossible to wear out. It is the only English opera, we believe, which has become decidedly popular in Paris and in Germany; and it is one of the few which frequent rough usage does not seriously mar. It was fairly well handled on Wednesday, Mr. Castle appearing, to the marked satisfaction of the audience, in his familiar role of Thaddeus, looking as gallant and heroic as the frontispiece to Miss Jane Porter’s famous novel; Mr. Campbell pouring out his rich bass voice, entirely free from the huskiness which troubled it last season; and Mr. Edward Seguin taking his old part of Devilshoof. Mr. Whiffen made an amusing Florestan, and Mrs. Aynsley Cook a gorgeous Gypsy Queen, who acted effectively, without displaying much ability as a singer. The interest of the evening centered, however, in the debut of Miss Clara Doria as Arline. She is a young lady of strong personal attractions and a pre- possessing manner, which half conquered the audience before she opened her lips. Her voice is neither of great compass nor of great power, but its quality is good, and in the more delicate passages she uses it with pleasant and graceful effect. Not yet a thorough artist, she is an agreeable singer, who seems to have been well taught; and the emphasis with which she was recalled after her nice vocalizing in that pretty song of the second act, ‘Come with the Gypsy Bride,’ showed that for a certain class of music at any rate she is a valuable addition to the company. Her reception throughout the evening was of the most cordial and encouraging character. The house was entirely full. Mr. Behrens conducted, with a somewhat reduced orchestra.”