Combination Italian Opera: Les Huguenots

“The production of Meyerbeer’s magnificent opera, ‘Gli Ugonotti,’ at the Academy last night, was a serious undertaking. It would be perhaps unfair to expect the same completeness and perfection here that we would expect in London or Paris, and this being held in mind, the performance last evening must be pronounced satisfactory. The grandeur of the music, tinged as it was with a melancholy character, demands such a combination of talent as we have not within ready reach, and the critic, as well as the public, must take this into account in passing judgment on the performance. The opera had been looked forward to with no little curiosity by the musical world as affording Wachtel full scope for the full display of his powers. As Meyerbeer wrote, the tenor score is remarkably high. The incidents of the opera, too, furnish abundant opportunity for throwing passion and feeling into his rendering of the rôle. It certainly brought out his best points; but we regret to say that the defects we have already pointed out in his singing, of unevenness and want of power to express tenderness, were made equally prominent. His rendering of the romanza, ‘Piu Bianca del velo,’ was given too much in bravura style, and had none of the tender feeling we should look for in a lover recounting the praises of his mistress. But the manner in which he gave the upper A more than counterbalanced every shortcoming in the minds of those who can see no beauty except in sensational efforts. In the rendering of the bravura passage in the celebrated septette, ‘De dritti ho l’Alma Accessa,’ Wachtel was completely at home, and sang with wondrous vigor and a depth of passion which he did not again reach. In the grand duet he was especially disappointing, and though the audience gave a rapturous recall, we fear it was more because they thought they ought to do so than from the intrinsic merit of the rendering, for neither the tenderness of the lover nor the rage of the hero received adequate interpretations. We could not help thinking how differently Giuglini would have given utterance to the lovely aria, ‘Tu m’ami,’ which was altogether deficient in feeling. Even in the expression of the violent emotion of rage Wachtel was not equal to the expectations that we had formed of him. To express deep passionate anger by jumping is a rather novel mode of interpretation, and, we are inclined to think, a very ineffective one. But with these many blemishes Raoul was a remarkably striking impersonation. It lacked sweetness and sympathy, and was not up to our ideas as a picture of passion; but the vocalization had a rugged strength, which, perhaps, is unrivalled. The high notes came out clear and distinct and remarkably pure. The faults are capable of correction, but the excellences, for the most part, only nature can confer. Madame Parepa-Rosa was in excellent voice, and displayed her brilliant vocalization in the duet, ‘In mio Sospir,’ and the melodious complaint, Raoul, il mio Dolor.’ Santley had not much opportunity, but what he had to sing was given with the charming roundness and finish which characterize his efforts. Miss Phillips as Urbain, the page, was quite successful. Her first song, ‘Nobil Donna e tanta onesta’ was not perfectly satisfactory, but the rendering of the cadenza passages was very good. The aria, ‘No, no, no,’ was brilliantly rendered, with unusually correct vocalization. The part of Margaret of Valois was sustained by Miss Ridgeway, whose voice is rather unpleasant, though evidencing considerable culture. In the crescendo passages of the romanza, ‘O, Vago Suol della Turrena,’ her voice was tremulous, but she recovered herself and displayed in the aria, ‘A Questa Voca Sola,’ brilliant vocalization, with great clearness, combined with something of shrillness in her notes. In the duet with Raoul, ‘Bella Divina Incantatrice,’ she acquitted herself very well, though the staccato passages were wanting in lightness, and her trilling, though brilliant, a little flat. Mr. Ryse made but a very indifferent Marcello, his rendering of the ‘Piff Paff’ was very poor. His voice is not deep enough to enable him to reach the lower notes, and he sings constantly flat. He very nearly spoiled Parepa-Rosa’s efforts in the duet in the second act. In the organization of the chorus an innovation was made which we believe is not sanctioned by precedent, and certainly is not happy in its results. In order, we suppose, to introduce the whole strength of the company a number of nuns are made to take part in the blessing of the poignards. The unsuitableness of their presence does not seem to have struck the management, nor the effect which the introduction of a number of soprano and alto voices would have in thinning a chorus that was already poor enough. The addition of the ladies in this scene had just the effect that water has on punch—it increased the quantity but took from the quality of the volume of sound. The chorus was, owing in part to this cause, wanting in force. The Legato passages, were, however, well rendered. The grand chorus ‘Il Distin’ brought out the whole force of the company, and was certainly very effective. The female chorus was very bad, the alto voices being especially weak—in fact, they were inaudible. The soldiers’ chorus was remarkably well given, and reflected great credit on the members and their training. Press of time prevents writing at the length we would desire, and though we feel called upon to point out some of the shortcomings we desire also to recognize the excellences of last night’s performance, which was one of the most creditable ever given in America.”

“Meyerbeer himself said to us a short time before his death that he considered the ‘Huguenots’ the greatest of his works. The musical world is not unanimously of his opinion. There are good critics who place ‘Roberto il Diavolo’ the first in the list, others who give the preference to ‘L’Africaine,’ while many claim the precedence in point of merit for that colossal work ‘Le Prophète.’ In all cases, however, Meyerbeer wedded his music to noble dramas, replete with telling situations and containing ample opportunities for the expression of passionate sentiment. ‘The Huguenots’ is richly endowed in this respect; and yet, strange to say, the most admired number—the famous duet between the tenor and soprano in the fourth act—was merely an after-thought, and was added to meet the demands of some particular prima donna.

The opera has always been a favorite in London, Paris and the German cities, and has found its way to Italy. Its principal characters have been personated by all the great lyric artists of the past thirty years, and the Valentine of Grisi, Titiens and Lucca; the Raoul of Mario and Tamberlik; the Marcel of Formes and Lablache; and the Margherita of Sontag and Bosio, have become almost historical in the annals of the operatic stage. To her large repertoire Adelina Patti has lately added the part of Valentine. It has been well sung here by La Grange, by Poinsot and other artists, while the Raoul of Mazzoleni and the Marcel of Formes and Junca will be pleasantly remembered by our own opera-goers.

The production of this great opera by the Rosa troupe last night, though an uneven performance, lacking in the admirable finish which has characterized the previous representations of the season, presented many admirable points. Parepa-Rosa in the broad, majestic music of Valentine finds frequent superb passages excellently suited to her style and to her grand capacities of voice and action; and the repeated bursts of applause with which she was greeted showed how keenly her efforts were appreciated by the audience. In Raoul too, Wachtel was at home. His dramatic fervor, his superb ringing and masculine voice, were all in keeping with the part. In the great duet at the close of the fourth act, the vocal power of the prima donna and tenor in sustaining the prolonged notes which the composer has so plentifully made use of here was fully recognized by the delighted audience, and Wachtel and Parepa were several times called before the curtain to receive flowers and laurel wreaths.

The part of Margherita de Valois was allotted to Miss Graziella Ridgeway, a young lady who some time ago made her debut on the operatic stage as the Page in ‘Un Ballo in Maschera.’ She has a penetrating, bird-like, yet childish voice, and is prepossessing in manner and appearance. We understand that she learned the music after only a few days study, and, certainly, under the circumstances, her performance was most creditable. Mr. Santley had a comparatively small part, but, of course, sang faultlessly. Of the Marcel of the evening it is only to be said that he is a conscientious singer, but last night was somewhat overweighted by his part.

The choral and orchestral parts of the performance were satisfactory, and the opera will be repeated on Monday night.”

“A crammed house assembled last night to listen to ‘The Huguenots,’ the masterpiece of its writer, at the Academy. To learn to appreciate the mystery, the variety and the grandeur of a work like ‘The Huguenots’ is in itself almost a musical education. In it Meyerbeer shows the ripened fruits of hard study with the splendor of a yet undimmed imagination. In it he shows the increasing and magnificent scope of modern instrumentation. He shows how, without discarding the old, a fresh glory may be acquired from the new. He shows how it may be possible for one man to unite the ascetic majesty of the antique chorals with the warm sensuousness of modern love-song. ‘The Huguenots’ is German, and it is Italian; and moreover, as first acted, and in consonance with its scene, it is French. For Meyerbeer, when he composed it, had learned to be cosmopolite in manner as well as catholic in passion; and, almost the Shakespeare of the lyric drama, to write not for a day but for all time.

All people who know what ‘The Huguenots’ is, and what its thorough equipment, in the full stage sense, demands, feel a certain regret mingled with their satisfaction whenever they hear it is to be attempted on our stage. Not because of the artists, necessarily; since it has sometimes happened that singers of distinguished reputation, even in these most exacting parts, have sung here in the work; but because of the great cost and nice taste essential fitly to carry out the composer’s meaning, and because the two or three representations at most looked for cannot be expected to bear the needful expense of a worthy production. Better things will be achieved by and by, as we have often ventured to predict. It will be found to ‘pay’ to bring out opera in New-York on the most magnificent scale; and then, let the artists who are the centre of the picture be whom they may, the setting will not be unworthy of their merit or their fame—or, let us hope, of those of the composer.

To say that the mise en scène—there is no shorter way of putting it---was much nearer perfection last night at the Academy than we have seen it before there when ‘The Huguenots’ has been attempted would scarcely be candid. But we believe that, with some exceptions, the singing—and this is especially true of the chief scenes and passages of the principals—surpassed any like dealing with Meyerbeer’s numbers yet heard in America. We do not forget, but vividly remember, the opera as sung at its best in New-Orleans; nor that French singers, as well as the French tongue, are perhaps happier in the work no less than in ‘Robert’ and other operas first sung in, and intended for, representation in the French capital. But, remembering this, the passion, the imagination and diversity of last night’s interpretation—its melodic charm and histrionic force—fairly eclipsed all that we remember of ‘The Huguenots’ as sung here before, and richly, very richly merited the applause which it repeatedly drew down.

We cannot affect to say that we think Mme. Parepa-Rosa an ideal Valentine; yet she sings the music exquisitely; and in some of the grander scenes—we instance that of the fourth act as the best example—she fairly seemed to rise to sublimity. Something of this may have  been caught from the electrical feeling of Herr Wachtel, who, whatever may be said of his lack of elegance, of the finer musical graces, undoubtedly has that subtle and mysterious force that we call magnetism, and sometimes, by stress of it, sways his audience at his will. Mr. Santley is, by long odds, the best St. Bris we have ever had here, and exactly the same thing may be said of the Urbano of Miss Phillips. With such a quartet some noble effects were looked for in ‘The Huguenots’ as things of course, even with a hardly competent Marcello. Yet it is not to deal in hyperbole to say that more was arrived at on this occasion than even the sanguine thought to hear. Genuine enthusiasm was provoked, and it was the child of genuine artistic desert. More of the music was given than has sometimes been heard here; and that fact was appreciated. Great pains had been taken with the chorus—if not quite so much with the orchestra—and that was well approved. The stage was at least decidedly set—and the superiority here was not unheeded. In all these regards, and despite the wretched ballet, there were evinced respect for the composer, for the eminent singers who interpreted him, and for the audience; and to none was there wanting the due meed of approbation. We must not omit to say that Miss Ridgeway, the Marguerite de Valois of the night, and a creditable pupil of Sig. Albites, was heard to advantage, and freely applauded; or that, with the exception of her horse, who was sometimes obstreperous, her train was almost worthy of their august mistress. The performance was not everything that could be wished—who will ever see a perfect performance of ‘The Huguenots’ or of ‘William Tell’—but there was enough in it to deserve warm commendation, and to warrant the public in being grateful to Mr. Rosa for producing it.”

“The revival of ‘The Huguenots,’ on Friday evening was one of Mr. Rosa’s most successful ventures. The cast was not in all respects a good one, but at least two of the leading characters made a very marked triumph, and the performance as a whole was one of the most spirited, and [illegible] which Meyerbeer’s great work has had in New-York for many years. The mutual understanding which usually prevails under Mr. Rosa’s management among the principals, the chorus, the orchestra, and the various [illegible] persons which serve to fill up stage tableaux and furnish the background to picturesque scenes, was especially apparent in the interpretation of this very trying composition. It disposed the immense audience to forget the vocal and dramatic deficiencies of Mr. Ryse, who played no less a part than that of Marcel, and to accept with composure the thin little voice and childish little style of Miss Ridgeway, who undertook the role of Marguerite de Valois. For the others, no allowance was necessary. The St. Bris was Mr. Santley, and we need hardly say that his one scene, the Benediction of the Poniards, was gloriously given, his splendid voice being finely supplemented by both chorus and orchestra. Miss Phillipps gave the charming music of the Page in her very best manner; Mr. Aynsley Cook was a satisfactory De Nevers; and the minor parts were intrusted to persons competent for such work as they had to do. The honors of the evening were reserved for the Valentine of Madame Parepa-Rosa and the Raoul of Mr. Wachtel. Their famous duet at the end of the Fourth Act was probably the most exciting incident of the season. Madame Rosa displays here the intensity of style for which she is at times so remarkable, while Mr. Wachtel seems to show by turns all his best qualities. The peculiar mellowness and capacity for pathos in his middle notes, and the power and brightness of the upper register both have abundant opportunity for display. The tenderness which he can assume so well when he pleases, and the fiery passion by which he has taken so many audiences by storm, are both suited in this grand duet. And he develops, moreover, a dramatic power far beyond anything he has shown hitherto. Toward the end of the scene, when the terror of the situation is brought home to him by the tolling of the signal bell, and the glare of distant flames, his cry of horror is no longer a song, but he breaks into a thrilling piece of action, such as the lyric stage seldom witnesses from any artist. It would not be difficult to point out defects in this part of the representation; judged by the strict rules of art it might be called overstrained; but there can be no question that tenor and soprano both make the scene a magnificent specimen of musical sensationalism. The audience were soon roused to the spirit of the [illegible]. The anxiety to applaud got beyond control at times in the midst of the duet, and broke out at the end of the act in a double recall before the curtain, when Mr. Wachtel received from one of his admirers a silver wreath.

Mr. Rosa occupied the conductor’s chair (where the public are always pleased to see him), and managed the excellent orchestra with his customary tact.”

“It is to be regretted that this really grand opera is so little known here, for it is one which can be heard many times to advantage. The first performance, which took place on Friday evening, was, in certain respects, unsatisfactory. Mr. Ryse, who took the important role of Marcel, was utterly unable to fill it properly, and his bad singing was a great blemish in the performance. Miss Ridgeway was also unsatisfactory as Marguerite de Valois, her voice being weak and thin and her style lacking dignity. The role needs a voice like that of Mlle. Leon Duval. The chorus and orchestra were fair;--the former might have been improved. Mme. Rosa sang with her usual earnestness and purity of style, and was positively grand in the great fourth act. Wachtel sung with his usual effect, and Santley was superb in the ‘Benediction des poignards,’ which was about the only opportunity he had for making himself heard.”