Concert

“One of the most charming and satisfactory specimens of concert singing which we have yet heard here was given by Mrs. Patey last night at Steinway Hall. The lady chose for her selections the Voi che sapete of Mozart, and Randeger’s taking melody Ben è ridiculo, and for an encore she gave a very pretty little ballad, called ‘The Lady of the Lea.’ It is one of the great merits of this noble-voiced singer that every word she utters is so distinctly articulated as to be perfectly intelligible to the listener. This is an accomplishment which the average concert singer of the day disdains, but it is one which adds vastly to the enjoyment of a vocal performance.

Mrs. Patey’s singing, if the best feature of last night’s concert, was by no means the only good one. Mr. Cummings sang with charming taste and purity, and was promptly encored. Miss Wynne also gave much satisfaction, and Mr. Santley was of course heartily applauded, though his selections were not as satisfactory as they usually are.

There was some very charming quartet singing. Mr. Hatton's exquisite little composition, ‘When evening’s twilight,’ was breathed out by Mrs. Patey, and Messrs. Cummings, Santley, and Patey, with exquisite taste and delicacy; and Barnaby’s melodious composition ‘Sweet and low,’ received equally satisfactory treatment from Miss Wynne, Mrs. Patey, Mr. Cummings and Mr. Patey.”

Review: New York Sun, 16 December 1871, 2.

“Mr. Dolby’s company gave another of their very enjoyable concerts last evening at Steinway Hall, commencing it with the glee which appears upon the programme as ‘Come o’er the brook,’ and is attributed to Bishop. It is a little cruel upon Thomas Ford, who has been in his grave two hundred years, and died fondly believing that the madrigal (‘Since first I saw your face’) was his own, and little dreaming that in the nineteenth century Sir Henry would tag a lively coda to it, and that it would be called a glee by Bishop.

Santley never seemed in better voice. Since the days of Badiali, of gracious memory, there has been no better baritone in our concert rooms. The two men have many qualities in common. Both are true musicians, putting their art above themselves, both have the same straightforward, earnest, honest manly way of singing, in neither of them is pathos a special quality. Their voices are not of the die-away order, but resonant, bright, and true. Both of them sing always at their best, and both have that varied culture and training that enable them to sing equally well a bravura aria in the modern Italian declamatory vein, or the severer music of Handel’s oratorios and cantatas. We refer of course to Badiali as he was years ago.

In other respects, as well as in Mr. Santley’s singing, the concert was an excellent one, the part singing—of which there is too little—being especially good. Why does Mr. Dolby, having such very competent artists, not utilize their talents and vary his programmes with trios, duets, and with fresh combinations of his singers? Mr. Santley is never heard, for instance, with Miss Wynne, and yet what admirable and effective duets there are for soprano and baritone.”

Review: New-York Times, 16 December 1871, 1.

“The concert given at Steinway Hall last evening by Mr. Santley and the remainder of Mr. Dolby’s artists, was enjoyed by a very large and appreciative audience. Mr. Santley was compelled to sing twice, whenever he appeared with intent to contribute but once to the performance. He was heard successively in [see above]. It would be hard to decide which of these pieces Mr. Santley recited best. The admirable phrasing of Donizetti’s music, the bold disinvoltura of Ricci’s tune, the tenderness of the French song, and the expressive elaborateness of the air of Polyphemus, were all rendered equally effective by the charm of a magnificent voice directed with unsurpassable skill. Mme. Patey, Miss Wynne, and Messrs. Cummings and Patey sang with Mr. Santley, and Mr. Lindsay Sloper added two neatly executed solos on the piano to his share, as accompanyist, of the labors of the night. Mme. Patey cannot sing successfully ‘Voi che sapete.’ Nothing but praise can be awarded every other selection.”

Review: New-York Times, 17 December 1871, 4.

“Mr. Santley and his companions have again appeared, and have been listened to with enthusiasm by audiences including the best resident musicians, who have been evidently incited to new exertions by such inspiriting example. We can recall no male artist who has appeared before a New-York audience, who has approached Mr. Santley in felicity of execution. His running passages are as perlé, his diminuendos as fine, his gradations of tone as delicate as it is possible to imagine. The style and delivery of his Italian cavatinas is as admirable, and we may say as national as that of his English songs. For, like every true singer, he is cosmopolitan, and his manner marks the highest point which the art of singing has now reached, viz., emotion as expressed by a gentleman and not by a boor. Mr. Santley embodies the idea which was, perhaps, first conveyed by the great German baritone, Pischeck, that of intense earnestness, covered by an outward calm. With him passion smoulders—it does not blaze. His grief is manly, his sentiment veiled, his love proud. He does not roar at his audiences, but seems rather to repress his power; to recite his poem and deliver his message with as little ado as may be; and then, while you are entranced by the beauty of the music and the loveliness of the singing, there comes one tremendous note, like a flash of light out of a dark cloud, and all is still.”

Review: New-York Daily Tribune, 19 December 1871, 8.

“The Dolby Troupe have closed their concerts in New York for the present [illegible] an Eastern tour. They gave a fine concert [illegible] at Steinway Hall last Friday, before a fine audience. As usual the glees and the singing of the society were the most notable portion of the concert [The remainder of this review is unfortunately illegible in the America’s Historical Newspapers online database].”