Concert

“’Yes,’ said the Rev. Mr. Butler, the pastor of St. Mark’s colored Methodist Episcopal church in this city, to a Herald reporter on Tuesday evening at Steinway Hall, ‘you will find in this hall the crème de la crème of negrodom, and no mistake, all in full dress, too.’ There were 2,150 colored people of various shades in Steinway Hall on Tuesday night to listen to the sweet carolings of Miss Nelly Brown and Miss Marianne Williams, the two African-American prime donne who have lately magnetized fashionable colored society in this city by their musical talents. Miss Nelly Brown is an octoroon, with very handsome features and a really sweet voice, of rather small compass at present, but capable of fine cultivation. Miss Brown has enjoyed the attention of the highest colored families of New York for some time past, and she is now about to proceed to Italy to study music and improve her voice under the great masters of song. She has all the material to become a fine singer, and will no doubt succeed in her laudable effort to ascend the ladder of fame.

Miss Williams sang Badia’s ‘L’Estasi d’Amore,’ and in several concerted pieces, and displayed remarkable talents as a vocalist. The other ‘artists’ were Miss B. Washington, Miss Eato, Messrs. J. Luca and A. C. Taylor and Professor O. Fox. A more enthusiastic or appreciative audience it would be difficult to find.”

“Steinway Hall presented an unusual appearance on Tuesday evening. The occasion was a concert given for the benefit of St.Mark’s Methodist Episcopal Church, and the peculiarity of the affair was that all the performers and nearly all of the audience were persons of color.

Evidently the concert was considered a matter of importance by all concerned, and it was doubtless intended to show that what a white man had done a colored man could do as well. 

The hall accordingly was crowded to its utmost limits, and certainly a more orderly and well-conducted audience it never held. There was not the shimmer of silk and the gleam of jewels that one is accustomed to find at one of the concerts of the Church Union associations, for instance, and, in fact, looking down on the audience from the balcony if had, to say the least, rather a sombre look, but the music was undoubtedly enjoyed, and apparently very well understood.

As it may be matter of curiosity to know what class of music our colored friend would select for such an occasion, we subjoin the first half of the programme [see above].

The second part was of much the same character and consisted mostly of Italian arias. 

The noticeable point about this programme is that it is made up of what is generally considered the very highest and most difficult kind of music. There is no ballad singing, no trifling with ‘Coming through the Rye,’ or ‘Robin Adair.’ It contents itself with nothing less than Schubert, Verdi, Mercadante, and Arditi. We are a little surprised to notice Belisario taking his place among the composers. It has been commonly supposed that this excellent Roman general had his time too much occupied in fighting the Visigoths, and looking generally after Justinian’s interests to give much of it to the composition trios. He might, however, have written ‘Life has no Power’ on his shield in the pauses of battle. Candor compels us to say that even if Belisario did write it he would have covered his face with his helmut on Tuesday evening, for it was fearfully and wonderfully sung. After this trio came Mr. Luca with Schubert’s song, beginning, ‘From countries far away I came.’ Mr. Luca had every appearance of having come from quite distant lands. But in spite of this natural fitness for the song we cannot commend his interpretation of it. He overdid the matter. No wanderer that ever lived could have been in half so desperate a frame of mind, or besought sympathy in such a woebegone way.

Mr. A. C. Taylor played Mills’s ‘Home, Sweet Home,’ and a very creditable performance it was, quite precise and clear in execution, but over sentimentalized. This in a word, was the predominant fault of all the performers. They exaggerated everything almost to the point of burlesque.

Miss Nellie Brown, who was the next performer, was evidently regarded as the bright, particular star of the evening, being assigned the place of honor on the programme. Her selection was Mercadante’s very difficult and very beautiful ‘Salve Maria,’ a work conceived in the most fervent spirit of Italian devotional writing, and only to be properly rendered by a singer of true feeling and of finished method. Miss Brown possessed apparently neither of these requisites. Her address to the Virgin was marked by affectation and self consciousness, rather than by the simplicity that ought to have characterized it.

It is unnecessary to go into further detail of criticism. We ought, however, to refer to the organ playing by Prof. Fox, with which the concert commenced. The performer being perched in the organ loft, it was impossible to tell what his color was. He probably was of the same race as the rest of the performers. But whether he was white or black, he played well, and handled the organ with the freedom and skill that proceed from knowledge. It was a notable fact that the instrumentalists were far better than the singers, the playing of the accompaniments, for example, being always in better taste than the singing of the songs of which they made part.

This has been a bold experiment on the part of the colored people, and while it has not been a successful one, still it illustrates several very important points. In the first place the programme shows not only great ambition and aspiration for the best music, but unusual discrimination and taste in the selection of what is really best. Then the voices were in themselves good and musical—the faults all came from lack of proper training. And what opportunity have our colored people had for cultivation? Who has there been to teach them in the higher walks of musical study? They have groped their way as best they might in this art, which, as much as any other in the world, needs careful watching and discipline. No wonder that they, who have never been properly instructed in this difficult art, should not be able to give it adequate expression in its highest forms. The marvel is that they have done as well as they have.

Italian music is, however, we believe, the wrong road and a false starting point. What have the blacks to do with the romantic, love-sick sentimentalisms of that kind of music. They have good voices, and the national love for melody is strong in them as a [illegible], and one of these days, a long time hence, it will find earnest expression that will command attention and admiration; but it will not be in the direction of Italian arias that they will make their mark. Meantime it is interesting to note these first experiments in the concert room of a people who have never before had an opportunity to show what they could do there.”