Combination Italian Opera: Rigoletto

“Forty years have passed since Victor Hugo first placed on the Parisian stage his powerful play of ‘Le Roi s’Amuse,’ and it has since become well known on the English dramatic and Italian opera stages, through the medium of Tom Taylor, in ‘The Fool’s Revenge,’ and Verdi, in the best of all his operas, ‘Rigoletto.’ The opera was produced last night at the Academy, before an overwhelming house, with the best cast ever given to it in this country. Mme. Parepa-Rosa appeared as Gilda, Miss Adelaide Phillips as Maddalina, Wachtel as the Duke and Santley as Rigoletto. This work has been very seldom presented to the American public in comparison to Verdi’s other operas, and as it was given last night, for the first time, in its entirety, a short explanation of the music will not be found uninteresting. The music is utterly unlike Verdi in his other compositions, as in it he has endeavored to unite his wonderful fecundity of melody with a dramatic design, by which each character is individualized and each scene in the play is limned in the strongest and most distinct colors. It is, as it were, the bridge between the two styles of the composer—the one in which he pours forth melody after melody from his fertile imagination without reference to dramatic exigencies, as in ‘Ernani,’ ‘Traviata’ and ‘Trovatore,’ and the other in which, having lost the freshness of his early powers, he plans each opera on dramatic principles alone, as in ‘Forza del Destino’ and ‘Don Carlos,’ which are elaborate and aesthetically perfect, but heavy and ponderous in a melodic point of view. But in ‘Rigoletto’ the intensity of paternal love, the egotism and heartlessness of the libertine, the purity, naivete and afterwards shame, despair and self-sacrificing affection of an outraged maiden, and the coquetry and espiegierie of the stereotyped femme d’argent (if we may be allowed the expression), are photographed in music with remarkable fidelity. These various and opposite traits are particularly shown at the same time in the magnificent quartet in the last act, than which no more expressive concerted piece exists in opera.

Santley bore off the chief share of the honors last night. It would be exacting too much from an operatic artist to look for a better representative of the King’s Jester. In acting he has evidently taken Ronconi for a model and has carefully avoided the harlequinade of some of the other Italian baritones in this role. There was real terror shown in his countenance when Monterone (the St. Valier of the drama) launched at him the terrible malediction, and the dry, ‘La Maledizione!’ which burst from his lips at the end of the second act, when he discoveres the abduction of his daughter, was fraught with intense anguish. Again, in the melody which he sang in the beginning of the third act—the refrain of one of the chansons of the buffoon—he combined a father’s anxiety and fear with the tripping, clownish measures. Then the desperation with which he sought to break through the ranks of the jeering courtiers, his defiance of them and the scene with his daughter brought the third act to a close in such a manner that the entire audience became convulsed with excitement. In the last act, the action being evenly divided, we can only speak of the horror expressed by him on discovering the corpse of his beloved daughter, while the intended victim at a distance trolls out his libellous satire on women, ‘La Donna e Mobile.’ A baritone could not look for a greater of more complete triumph than Mr. Santley achieved last night.

Wachtel brought gayety, elegance, uncontrollable impulse and the manners of a veritable Don Juan in the role of the Duke. His first aria, ‘Questa o quella per me pari sono,’ a sort of free love declaration, and the well known ‘La Donna e Mobile,’ were given with rare effect. There is one grave fault which this tenor indulges in at times, and that is straining after sensation. In his frequent tours de force he sharpens his notes beyond the pitch and mars what otherwise would be delightful. In the opening melody of the quartet, ‘Bella figlia,’ he sang comme un ange.

The rôle of Gilda demands a simplicity and purity of vocalization in the second act for which Madame Rosa’s voice is admirably suited. The lovely aria, ‘Caro Nome,’ has never here received such a touching interpretation. At the finale of this aria the fair vocalist gave E in alt with startling effect. The relation of her wrongs to her father in the third act (how like the lovely phrase, ‘Tutte il peste al tempio,’ is to a melody in the grand duo of ‘Les Huguenots’) was full of deep emotion, and in the quartet she quite overshadowed her father, lover and rival.

The careless coquetry, irresistible laugh and perfect ease of manner of Miss Phillips lent a peculiar charm to the role of Maddalena. Mr. Aynsley Cook, as the cutthroat Sparafucile, was effective and artistic, as this careful artist always is, and Mr. Hall sang the small role of Monterone commendably. The wonderful instrumentation of the opera, so unlike Verdi’s other works, always subordinate to the situation, and sometimes used to express it instead of the voice, received a most satisfactory rendition from the orchestra of sixty pieces, under the direction of Mr. Neuendorf. In the first act there was a military band on the stage to assist the orchestra, and the effect recalled memories of Covent Garden and Costa’s orchestra. The chorus, consisting of sixty-three voices, has been trained to a degree such as few habitues of the Academy would have reason to expect. In the chorus of the abductors, in the second act, ‘Zitti, ziti;’ the changes from pianissimo to fortissimo were given with a unanimity of spirit and expression deserving of high praise.

For an opera demanding such a nicety of coloring, such a distinctness of characterization, such a variety of sentiment and such a harmony in all its parts, the performance last night was one that any director might be proud of.”

[Preceded by an introductory paragraph recalling past New York performances of the opera]

“The cast of last night was one of the very best which has ever been heard here. Madame Parepa-Rosa took the part of Gilda for the first time in this country, though she has often sung it abroad. Being in excellent voice she sang delightfully, and at the end of the Caro nome, instead of ending with the trill on E, climbed up by the notes of the common chord to the octave E. In the duets with the tenor and baritone, and in the great quartet of the last act, she appeared to eminent advantage. Herr Wachtel was the Duke. In the dashing song Questa o Quella he created no marked impression, but in the love scene of the next act sang with infinite passion and sentiment. His rendering of the aria Parmi veder le lagrime was the best ever heard in this country. He gave an entirely new meaning to this graceful and plaintive melody, which when undertaken by ordinary singers becomes very commonplace. His Donna e mobile contained a notable prolonged note and was heartily encored. At the close of the great quartet Wachtel flung out a high C or C sharp, which rang through the house like a trumpet.

Miss Adelaide Phillips, in the small part of Maddelena, was thoroughly excellent. But, after all, the special triumph of the evening was achieved by Santley, who as Rigoletto has created an impression much deeper than was expected. In action he was dignified and pathetic. In vocalization he was perfect. The aria Deh! Non parlar al misero, was a most finished specimen of his style of delivering operatic music, the lower notes it contains (in which most baritones are so weak and ineffective) being as clear and distinct as the highest. After the scene with the courtiers, the audience was specially enthusiastic in its applause. Altogether, Mr. Santley is fully maintaining the reputation which preceded him to this country, and is giving us a series of operatic personations which are worthy of the highest praise.”

“The performance of ‘Rigoletto,’ at the Academy of Music, last evening, was almost as numerously attended as the memorable recital of ‘Il Trovatore’ on Monday, and it elicited almost as many evidences of delight. That it did not arouse quite as much enthusiasm as the rehearsal of ‘Il Trovatore’ is easily explained. ‘Rigoletto’ is less rich in ear-taking music than the younger work and hence its score is less widely known. The proverb that familiarity breeds contempt is not applicable to operas, and the average spectator will not long hesitate between the easy gratification afforded by the hearing of tunes become appreciable by repetition, and the labor of discovering beauties too pure and deeply set to dazzle at first view. The expression of delight called forth by a recognition of the first bars of ‘La donne è mobile’ was proof of our assertion. ‘Rigoletto’ is rarely sung in New-York, or rather it has been rarely done in late years, and its finest pages are well-nigh forgotten. But a few representations as symmetrical and forceful as yesterday would be needed to make its qualities plain. We could hardly wish for an interpretation blending in better proportion, grandeur of voice, finish of execution and excellence of acting. Mr. Santley’s personation of Rigoletto was naturally the most remarkable of the four. Mr. Santley has had more favorable opportunities, as in ‘Il Trovatore’ for instance, of displaying the perfection of his singing of cantabile passages, but in no character has he been better able to prove the possession of imagination and thoughtfulness in the conception of a part, and variety of method in filling it. At certain stages of the evening, of course, the least experienced listener could not mistake the skill of the singer or the power of the actor, but a great deal of Mr. Santley’s task would not fail of a more decisive effect but for the influence mentioned above. The recitative prefacing the duet with Gilda in act the first, during which the anguish of the deformed man, the rage of the jester who, in the eyes of the world has lost the right to weep, and the love of the father are illustrated and contrasted, will never be delivered with more sensibility, variety of color and power, but the words and notes are so interwoven that something more is required for their understanding than the attention accorded in ‘Il balen.’ Mr. Santley’s scene with the courtiers was more striking, though the gentleman is not so happy in expressing pathos. The duet subsequent to ‘Tutte le feste,’ was sung with exceeding animation and with flattering results, and the phrase ’Si, vendetta, tremenda vendetta,’ and the dark menaces following, uttered with an intensity more significant than the loudest declamation or the wildest gesture could make them, secured a call before the curtain which deserves a notice as enlisting special unanimity. Mme. Parepa-Rosa shared with Mr. Santley the laurels of the number. ‘Caro nome,’ the single solo allotted to the lady, was rendered by her with much sentiment and neatness.  Herr Wachtel pictured Il Duca with all desirable vivacity, and sang the pretty ballad in the first act, beginning, ‘Questa a quella,’ and the well-worn couplets in the last with as much airiness, so to speak, as could be reasonably expected of a tenor gifted with so large a voice. The not unimportant role of Maddalena was intrusted to Miss Adelaide Phillips, whom there is no occasion to commend at the present writing. The strength of the union of the four artists already named was, it should be said, clearer in the grand quartet of ‘Rigoletto’ than at any point of the performance. We cannot imagine a more dramatic rendering of that superb specimen of writing than Mr. Santley and Herr Wachtel and Mme. Parepa-Rosa and Miss Phillips contributed. It was, naturally enough, redemanded, as was also, by the way, ‘La donna `e mobile,’ and at the end of the act all the performers were twice summoned before the footlights. It only remains to add to the foregoing notes that the other artists concerned in the representation were Messrs. Aynsley Cook and G. F. Hall, who embodied respectively Sparafucile and Monterone. Mr. Cook supplied a very intelligent and correct sketch of the bravo, to whom, however, it is possible to give more prominence than he has ever had in recitals of ‘Rigoletto’ in the United States; and Mr. Hall was dignified and eloquent in his interviews with Il Duca and with the jester. The chorus was in capital condition. Herr Neuendorf conducted, and he might now and then have humored Herr Wachtel’s ideas of tempo with advantage.

“The Parepa-Rosa company gave on Wednesday evening an unusually strong interpretation of Verdi’s ‘Rigoletto.’ There is a great deal in this opera to attract popular admiration. The music is spirited and taking, much of it being in dance measure—a trick that seldom fails to captivate the popular ear. An audience is pleased without being more than half aware that it is listening to a waltz, polonaise, or polka redowa, vocalized.

La Donna e Mobile, for example, is as useful a tune in the ball-room as in the fourth act of ‘Rigoletto.’ The opera, too, has the advantage of a dramatic libretto and powerful situations. 

Dullness has never been one of Victor Hugo’s weaknesses, and his ‘Le Roi s’Amuse,’ from which the librettist has taken this plot, is one of the most forcible of his dramas. The final scene, however, was a great mistake. The dragging of the corpse of the heroine upon the stage in a sack (a scene with which the opera ends) was a clumsy and brutal device, and has gone far to injure the effect of Verdi’s fine work by leading up to such a revolting climax.

A little tact would have enabled the librettist to accomplish his catastrophe without resort to such barbarism. Tom Taylor, in his ‘Fool’s Revenge,’ showed how easily it might be done.

Mr. Santley gave an admirable representation of the character of the poor Jester. This is the only personage in the opera who has any considerable acting to do; and Mr. Santley, while he certainly has no histrionic genius, nevertheless has a fine intellectual appreciation of the requirements of the situations, and indicates them with intelligence. As to his singing, that wins constantly upon the hearer. He does not do any astonishing things like Wachtel; he never amazes his audience with splendid notes such as they are sure no other man on the continent could sing; but he shows himself the even, true, and finished artist. One note is as good as another, one phrase as perfectly sung as its predecessor; in whatever way we look at him we feel that Santley is master of his art, and that, without having a phenomenal voice, he possesses a thoroughly satisfying one.

Miss Phillips had but a little part, and that she filled charmingly.

Mme. Parepa-Rosa sustained the character of Gilda not without some signs of weakness, but with a hundred evidences of strength to offset them. Her singing was especially fine in the great quartette in the last act—one of Verdi’s finest inspirations. The repetition of this was asked for so decidedly by the audience that it was given by the singers, Wachtel each time electrifying his hearers with his suberb concluding note, in alt. In a word, the performance was a thoroughly enjoyable one.”

“The extraordinary character of the present opera season at the Academy of Music has been the talk of the town for the whole week. It is such an unprecedented thing with us to see a performance that is all good, the principal [illegible] a ranking with the first of their respective classes [illegible] world, the orchestra powerful, [illegible], and spirited, the chorus large and well-drilled, and the music carefully [realized?] that the sensation aroused by Mr. Rosa’s is one of wonder quite as much as satisfaction. Yet this ought not to be a novelty in a city like New York. In some particulars the combination made by Mr. Rosa is indeed a phenomenal one, not often to be paralleled; but in any great European capital an ordinary company must consist of at least five or six artists ranking in the musical world on about the same plane with Parepa and Wachtel; chorus and orchestra must be even larger than Mr. Rosa’s; scenery must be better; and costumes must be at least as good. What we enjoy in New-York now for the first time we ought to have every season; and it may be that, after the brilliant success of the present experiment, a serious attempt will be made to give it to us.

The rich effect of the representations of ‘Trovatore’ on Monday and ‘Rigoletto’ on Wednesday is attributable to various causes beside the individual excellence of the artists. M. Rosa, in the first place, has a rare genius for management. He is [illegible], not only to make money, but to do honor to his work; and so whatever he lays his [illegible] to, he does with all his might. His rehearsals are thorough, his tact is [illegible], his [argument?] is wise, his knowledge of the business is complete. In the next place there are peculiarities in the four principal artists which fit them exactly to each other. They are peculiarities some times of agreement, some times of contrast. The voices of the prima donna, the tenor, and the baritone are also so far as this that each is strong, pure, and brilliant; but their [illegible] are completely [illegible] might a most [illegible] amusing music. Madame Parepa Rosa is mistress of the grand school of musical delivery which is characterized not by passionate declamation but by a [illegible] outpouring of song. The music rushes from her throat without effort, and as if it were easier for her to let it out than to keep it in. Inexperienced listeners imagine that there is no great art in this style, because so little art is apparent, but musicians know that such singing is the last [result?] of long years of training, and they honor the artist not only for the exquisite gift which she got by nature, but for the exquisite culture which she has got by hard work. With an artist of the [illegible] branch school Madame Rosa never ought to sing. She would ruin the gossamer graces of Capoul for instance, and a good deal of the beauty of her own method would perhaps be obscured in the contrast. But she and Wachtel are admirable [illegible] to each other. The great German tenor is inferior in technical cultivation to each of the three artists with whom he is associated, yet he is by no means the [rude?] and vulgar vocalist that certain connoisseurs who have heard him sing have been accustomed to call him. Such occasional lack of refinement as there may be in his delivery we forget in the glory of his singing voice and the magnetic dash and fire of his style. A little reckless he may be in the lavish use of his superb powers, but the result is commonly his justification. Too prolonged at times in action, spasmodic and overstrained now and then in song, he nevertheless conquers the admiration of the sternest purist, and rouses the [illegible] as no other man on the lyric stage can rouse them. His tone blends easily with Madame Rosa’s, and it is an extraordinary piece of good fortune that the trio should be completed by a third great singer, differing widely from both the others, and yet never [sounding?] so much in place as when he sings in their company. The union of Parepa, Wachtel, and Santley is the perfection of brilliant musical [affect?]. In strength the voices are about equal; in coloring they are so well contrasted that they heighten one another’s brightness. Mr. Santley has all the repose which Wachtel lacks, and all the easy refinement of delivery for which Parepa is remarkable. He is a man of magnificent natural powers, so carefully corrected and controlled that it is only by slow degrees we comprehend what they really are; an artist who delights us in every part, because whether the music be good or bad, the method of delivery is in itself a charming study. No one word so well expresses the characteristic of Mr. Santley’s art as ‘thorough.’ He makes no mistakes. He is never slovenly and never weak. Whatever he does is done well. To his other gifts and accomplishments he adds a sympathetic style and a genuine, perfectly unexaggerated sensibility. No wonder then that with such a combination of noble qualities he reveals new meanings in the most familiar music, and startles an audience into exclamations of delight with songs whose freshness we supposed to have been long ago exhausted. Miss Adelaide Phillipps more nearly resembles Santley in her style than she does the other members of the company. She is a singer of high culture, of marked self-command, dignity, simplicity, and artistic reserve. She knows the limits of her strength, and never tries to overstep them. She has a great wealth of pathos in her beautiful voice, and resists the temptation to waste it upon inappropriate themes. She is a natural actress, and even in the turgid declamation of Azucena, she never falls into rant and [illegible]. Of the four stars of the company, she is the most emotional and the most dramatic. 

Such was the quartet which on the second night of the season presented ‘Rigoletto’ before an audience similar in size and character to that of Monday. We do not believe so good a representation of the work has ever been given in this city before. In the music of Gilda Madame Rosa shows more of the finer graces of her method than Leonora affords any chance to display, and she gave these with all the sweetness and good taste which we have admired so often in past years. The traces of a recent affliction of the throat, which were perceptible in her voice on Monday, seened to be fast disappearing. The ‘Caro nome’ was given with extreme purity and refinement; the duet with Rigoletto, ‘St. vendetta’ was full of splendid fire, and the whole of the last act was electrical. Herr Wachtel’s Duke is quite as good as his Manrico, and we may wait many years before we see a better representative of the gay, flashing, handsome, insolent libertine, who flourishes through this dark tragedy with his rollicking song of woman’s folly and inconstancy. His rendering of ‘La donna e mobile’ is striking and almost original, and called out an especially lively demonstration from the gallery. The duet with Gilda in the first Act, ‘Addio, speranza ed anima,’ was also encored with emphasis. Mr. Santley’s Rigoletto, however, was the most interesting feature of the performance. The role contains little of the cantabile melody in which he makes such a marked impression upon miscellaneous audiences; but it is rich in dramatic coloring, and though Mr. Santley did not arouse such vociferous enthusiasm as his ‘Il balen’ kindled on the first night, he showed a finer artistic sense, a broader culture, and a much higher dramatic power,--so much indeed that we are entirely at a loss to account for the popular impression born of his experience with the English company, that he does not know how to act. The famous quartet of course was given gloriously. In the secondary parts, Mr. Hall (Monterone), and Mr. Aynsley Cook (Sparafucile), deserved particular praise. The chorus was again strong and good, and the orchestra under Mr. A. Neuendorff was excellent. The ball scene, at the opening of the opera, was very well arranged, with a plenty of well-dressed guests and dancers, and a band on the stage.”