Strakosch Italian Opera: Mignon

“Mr. Strakosch has issued a manifesto in relation to the coming season of Italian opera in which with pardonable complacency he speaks of the length and success of the Nilsson season, and glorifies that excellent prima donna in the most elaborate manner, attributing to her prestige the all-important fact that the audiences at the Nilsson operas have worn full evening dress. For this high and noble result of art appreciation, let us all feel humbly grateful.”

Extensive Ad for Nilsson’s last appearance

 Complete cast listing.

“Nothing short of genius of a commanding character could attract such a splendid house as that which crowded the Academy of Music last evening on the occasion of the commencement of the second season of Christine Nilsson. The same magnetism that electrified a hard-to-be-pleased operatic audience and gave vitality, youth and freshness to threadbare and hackneyed rôles was all potent when the announcement was made that the reigning Queen of Opera was to make her farewell of the people whom she bound to her in irrefragable bonds of friendship. It would be difficult to speak of another artist, among the great number that Europe has sent to this country and those of native growth, who has gained such a firm hold on the affections of the public. In Christine Nilsson, when she leaves us, the opera-goers of New York will lose one of the brightest, most sympathetic and most accomplished artists that ever trod our boards, and it will be long before her place can be filled. Against the most terrible obstacles that ever blocked the path of a prima donna—an incomplete company and incompetent management—Nilsson won a triumph of the most complete and thorough kind. In her hands the familiar Lucia, Martha, Leonora, Violetta, Marguerite and Zerlina became actual novelties and fresh creations, and held the sympathies of the best people in New York without a symptom of ennui for forty performances. Last night the Swedish Nightingale gave a strong proof that a short absence had not dimmed the bright impressions left in the minds of her admirers, and her delicious characterization of Mignon was as charming, winning and artistic as ever. The well known song, ‘Connais tu la pays,’ the duet, ‘Leggiadre rondinelle,’ the toilet scene and the glorious finale showed that her clear, thrilling, sympathetic voice, which can now glow with the passion of the tropics, now tremble with the virginal tenderness of a Scandinavian maid, anon give expression to queenly dignity, and again carol like a lark of morntide, has lost none of its charms during her absence. Here lies the strength of the company, supplemented by the irresistible love-making and light, flexible voice of Capoul, whose Wilhelm Meister is an earnest, passionate and complete piece of acting. And while speaking of acting we may say that Mlle. Nilsson was in unusual spirits last night, and her histrionic interpretation of the rôle was more forcible and delightful than ever. As for the rest of the cast we may summarize them this wise:--Mlle. Duval’s peculiar French voice, which reminds one of an oboe, or rather a compromise between that instrument and a clarionet, acted the rôle of Filina with due vivacity and coquetry. Mlle. Feretti was a more satisfactory Federico than her predecessor, and yet not an artist. Mr. Jamet acted the part of the old harper to perfection, sang correctly, but lacked the power of giving expression to intense passion and paternal love by his voice. The chorus and orchestra did their work as all people in those departments do nowadays in opera; and in the fire scene the supernumeraries performed the usual extraordinary things.”

“Last night was one of the most wintry of the season. The wind beat, the snow fell, and the cold was bitter and intense. It was the night of all others for quietly staying at home.

Yet the attraction of Nilsson’s name was so strong that the fashionable and music loving public braved all the terrors of the dreary night, and flocked to the Academy of Music in crowds. Every seat was occupied, while the boxes were radiant with an elegant display of dress and diamonds. The entire scene was animated and brilliant; nor was there any tempering of the fashionable pageant on account of the presumed somber influence of Lent.

‘Mignon’ was the opera. It has so often been given here by the same cast that its performance last night calls for no extended notice. It is enough to say that all the singers were in good voice, that Nilsson looked as fascinating, acted as naturally and sang as charmingly as ever; that Duval made a marked impression in the Polonaise; that Capoul was encored in his aria in the last act, and that Jamet sang better than usual. Altogether, the opera was well received and thoroughly enjoyed.”

“The return of the Strakosch Italian Opera Troupe to the Academy of Music, attracted to that spacious theatre one of the largest and brightest gatherings that has ever graced its auditorium. Every seat was occupied, and no standing-room at all worthy of the name was to be had long before the curtain rose. ‘Mignon’ re-introduced to the audience Miss Nilsson, Mlle. Duval, MM. Capoul and Jamet, and Mr. Lyall. M. Thomas’ opera was listened to with intelligent pleasure springing from an increased acquaintance with the score, and was much applauded. Well-worn ideas and well-worn forms—more numerous than the earlier representations disclosed—are apparent as the intimacy ripens, but the composer’s skill and taste as a harmonist go far toward softening the effect of trivialities and commonplaces. A great deal of the music in ‘Mignon’ will endure so long as graceful themes and elegant settings are appreciated. The duet of the swallows, for instance, the romance, ‘Conosci tu quel suoi,’ the pretty interlude in form of a gavotte, the quaint styrienne, the polonaise, and the air ‘Ah! non credea,’ will bear frequent repetition. To name these numbers of the work is to mention the points of its recital, yesterday, at which the delight of the hearers was expressed by most applause. In its entirety, Mignon is among the parts by which Miss Nilsson will be best remembered, both as an actress and as a singer. In the two capacities she enacted, on the occasion we write of, as large a tribute of laurels as during the Winter season. In picturing the sauvagerie of the gypsy, the longing of the exile for the sunny land from which she has so long been estranged, the amusing jealousy of Filina’s rival, and the varied moods of the maiden in the last act, the old impression of a talent not to be surpassed on the lyric stage, was wrought. And in the most striking passages of the opera, the expressive delivery and delicious vocalization of the songstress were admired after the familiar fashion. Thus, in act the first, ‘Conosci quel suoi’ and the ‘Duo dell rondinelle’ were redemanded; in the second act, the styrienne awakened a request for repetition which ought to have had a more liberal acknowledgment; thus again, in act the third, the impassioned fragments of the music elicited hearty plaudits. It is needless to say that Miss Nilsson’s reappearance was the signal for a flattering demonstration, and that her path was literally strewn with flowers. For the credit of the management, it is pleasant to add that the merits of the artists surrounding the prima donna are sufficiently decided to suffer in no respect from the comparison. It would be hard to find a more graceful and fervid representative of Guglielmo than M. Capoul; a more touching and dignified impersonation of Lotario than that supplied by M. Jamet, or a more captivating and brilliant Filina than the comedienne whom Mlle. Duval pictures. A rapturous encore followed M. Capoul’s romance in the first act, and the dash of Mlle. Duval’s not faultless execution of the polonaise would have been fruitful of quite agreeable results, but for the hurry of the action at that stage of proceedings. M. Lyall embodied Laerte, and the role of Federico was intrusted to Mlle. Ferretti, who filled it acceptably. The chorus was occasionally rather unsteady, especially in the first act. The band was in good condition in regard to numbers and unanimity. Mr. Maretzek conducted, as heretofore."

“The Academy of Music reopened last night to an audience as large and as brilliant as almost any of those which gathered there when Miss Nilsson made her first appearance on our stage last October. Yet the season and the weather were both unpropitious, and the opera chosen for the occasion was one which seemed to have had its full lease of popularity some time ago. The leading artists—Nilsson, Duval, Capoul, and Jamet—were kindly received; the prima donna was greeted with abundant garlands and nosegays, and altogether the new campaign may be said to have opened under favorable omens. The light and trivial music of ‘Mignon’ can hardly kindle enthusiasm even in the most susceptible bosom; but Miss Nilsson has here a part which displays to perfection some of her rarest charms, and we cannot wonder at the delight with which so many thousands have witnessed her personation of the little barefoot dancer. We have already expressed our opinion that it ranks among her finest and most highly dramatic efforts. There is no change to note in the manner of her performance or in the condition of her voice. She acted with all her usual grace and vivacity, and sung with her usual purity and sweetness. We cannot say that Mr. Capoul was in the best trim, for on two occasions he was seriously out in his music, and the sestette in the First Act was spoiled. Miss Duval, on the other hand, won by her Polonaise a warmer commendation that we have seen any audience give her before. The orchestra has been tempered; but not so the chorus, which continues to be an affliction to critical ears, in spite of its good clothes and brave array of numbers.”

“The new season of Italian opera began on Monday evening with a display of numbers and enthusiasm on the part of the audience clearly indicating that Miss Nilsson has not in any wise lost her magnetic hold upon public interest. And yet we are glad to see that that interest is to be renewed by her appearance in a new rôle—that of Alice in Meyerbeer’s ‘Robert le Diable,’ which opera is said to be in rehearsal. ‘Mignon’ is pleasant, and its music bright and of a fresh flavor, but even ‘Mignon’ furnishes hardly sufficient novelty for an entire musical campaign.

‘Robert’ indeed, for that matter, has something of the smack of antiquity about it, but Meyerbeer was so copious in his ideas, and has crowded such a mass of musical thought and form into that great work, that it refuses to grow old or trite.

Miss Nilsson’s long and arduous labors do not seem at all to have affected her voice or her vivacity; the one is as fresh and delicious in quality, the other as electric and spontaneous, as ever. A finer picture than she gives of Mignon the eye could not desire. There is but one point in which she seems at fault. In the second act Mignon, leaving off her woman’s dress, appears in the costume of a page, trousered and booted to the knees.

Here Miss Nilsson makes a little by-play for the amusement of the audience. She sits down before the fire, rubs her hands, puts one foot up on the other knee, sticks both legs out toward the blaze, stands up with her back to the fire, and crossing her hands behind her holds up first one foot and then the other to warm the soles. These are all attitudes natural enough to a man, but they are precisely the things that the modest and gentle Mignon or any pretty lass just out of petticoats and stepping temporarily into unaccustomed male attire would never think of doing. They are unnatural, unbecoming to the character she portrays, unmaidenly, and unartistic; all of which Miss Nilsson knows better than can be told her. But the audience laughs to see her boyish ways, and for the sake of the laugh Miss Nilsson sacrifices the truth of the situation. However, as no one expects a very high standard of acting on the operatic stage, it does not much matter.”