Venue(s):
Academy of Music
Manager / Director:
Max Maretzek
Henry C. Jarrett
Price: $2; $2 extra reserved seat, parquet, balcony, box; $16-25 private box; $1 family circle; $.50 extra, secured seat
Event Type:
Opera
Status:
Published
Last Updated:
15 July 2024
“The Selika of Mme. Lucca is a most remarkable and delightful performance, and though the music of ‘L’Africaine’ is less familiar to our public than that of ‘Faust,’ Meyerbeer’s opera may become as popular as Gounod’s by repetition.”
“’L’Africaine’ was sung, for the third time this season, at the Academy of Music, last evening. The representation was witnessed by a numerous and brilliant audience, and it elicited unequivocal proofs of satisfaction. Mme. Lucca’s powers of self-identification with the characters she portrays—a power which any of our readers acquainted with her career in Europe must accord her—is shown in her personation of Selika as clearly as in what may be termed her more popular rôles; and at all the stages of the story the sympathetic quality of the purest of mezzo-soprano voices, a perfect fluency of execution, and, impressive above all, a variety and naturalness of acting unsurpassable, were extremely effective. As we had occasion to observe when we dealt with Mme. Lucca’s picture of Marguerite, only a thorough knowledge of the words and music assigned to the personages an artist of equal rank represents, will enable a spectator to appreciate the fidelity of the realization of the composer and librettist’s ideal, and the elaborateness in expression resulting from sensibility and stage experience. Inasmuch as few listeners of opera—in this country at least—are possessed of this knowledge, some point of a rehearsal are always to be looked for as likely to produce a special effect, and a mention of the fact that they were attended with the awaited results is assurance as to the acceptableness of the whole entertainment. Mme. Lucca, whose entire performance, as we have intimated above, deserves the closest study, and, as a corollary thereof, the heartiest admiration, was most loudly applauded after the delicious slumber-song ‘In Grembo a Me,’ after the superb duet recited when the declaration as to her past marriage has been wrung from Nelusko, and after the grand scene in act the fifth, when the career of the heroine is brought to a touching close. Selika was thrice summoned before the curtain when it had fallen upon the tableau of the death of the abandoned Queen. Mme. Lucca’s associates had a fair share of the success of the night. The continual changes in the weather have so affected the tenors of the new company that it is still impossible to speak with decision of the resources or talent of either, but Signor Abrugnedo had a sufficient mastery of his notes to give great prominence to the vigorous declamatory music in the first act of the opera, and to proceed satisfactorily until the conclusion of his task. Signor Moriami acquitted himself most creditably of the duties of Nelusko. Skilled in the management of his voice, an earnest and a finished comedian, no better representative of Selika’s savage lover could be desired than the baritone who effected his début on Monday last. Signor Moriami’s labors merit the same scrutiny which Mme. Lucca’s exact; the consequence would be exceedingly favorable. Until they can be rewarded by the requisite examination, future audiences, like that assembled yesterday, will doubtless select for approval Signor Moriami’s singing and acting at that point of act the first when he taunts the council; his song commencing ‘Adamaster Rè dell’ onda,’ which he interprets with a sinister brio of the most forcible kind, and his work in act the fourth, when, submissive to his queen, he renounces her love. To the remaining performances, last evening, we need not refer at length. M. Jamet was as conscientious as usual in the garb of Don Pedro, and Mme. Levielli was equally painstaking as Donna Inez. A manifest improvement in the orchestra and chorus were apparent; in a week or thereabout we may expect very symmetrical representations.”
“The second evening representation of ‘L’Africaine’ last night at the Academy filled the house, despite the clouds that gathered in the sky. The cast was the same as heretofore, but there was a marked improvement in the whole performance over the previous representations. Signor Abrugnedo was in better voice, and came out in Vasco di Gama with greater verve, and the chorus produced more decided effects. As for the lovely prima donna, she developed new beauties in the part of Selika, and in the finale achieved an immense triumph.”
“The little Diva appeared again last evening as the Indian Princess—a character which has become so strongly identified with her. For intensity of passion, sustained power and most trying scenes this rôle is one that many a prima donna of renown would hesitate before adding it to her repertoire. The sole feature of attraction in the opera for the public is the rôle of Selika, which is a well-drawn specimen of dramatic portraiture. Five long, weary acts, with a large proportion of the music in a labored, un-Meyerbeerish style, with themes of the most fragmentary description, taken up and either abandoned for others suddenly or diverted from their key in an abrupt and causeless manner, can hardly be compensated for by the glitter of a procession, the grotesque spectacle of a Portuguese vessel, or even the shade of the deadly Upas tree. As an instance of the fragmentary character of some of the musical subjects we may cite portions of the second, third and fourth acts, where at times the natural flow of a theme is rudely diverted to another direction. Marks of severe labor are perceptible in many places, and hence the unpopularity of ‘L’Africaine’ as a work.
But the genius of such an artist as Lucca is sufficient to light up heavier subjects than those of ‘L’Africaine.’ The gentle tenderness which murmurs forth the slumber song, ‘In Grembo a Me,’ becomes electrified with tropical passion in the grand duo of the fourth act, and ecstatic beneath the Mancanilla tree. Lucca’s conception of the rôle is so thorough and natural that the musical phrases fall from her lips with a clearness and intelligibility such as one seldom hears. Recitative, like that with which Selika’s music is so thickly interspersed, would prove very dull and heavy in other hands than those of Mme. Lucca, but her exquisite phrasing, fine dramatic style of vocalism, each broad tone quivering with the magnetism of passion, lend an interest to everything she sings. The last scene, as interpreted by her, is worthy of a niche among those wonders of the past—the Norma of Grisi, the Desdemona of Malibran and the Lucia of Lind. The grand duo of the fourth act (when did Meyerbeer ever write an opera without a grand duo?) was a terrible strain on the little Diva, considering that she had actually to drag the tenor, Abrugnedo, through, as his voice was in a lamentable condition through meteorological influences, half his music being cut out and the other half being indifferently sung.
The baritone, Moriami, was another victim to the weather, or, perhaps, the rôle was too much for him. He made an unfavorable impression last evening which it will take some time to remove. The great song, ‘King Adamastor,’ was rendered in a tame and uninteresting manner. A word of hearty praise is due to M. Jamet, who even in the small, or, rather, comparatively small part of Don Pedro, showed the spirit and experience of a true artist.
We would advise Mr. Maretzek, the manager, the next time he presents an opera of Meyerbeer to increase the chorus and orchestra to a fuller number than last evening. Forty-five instruments and fifty voices are not sufficient to do justice to a work like ‘L’Africaine,’ and no nautical laws, ancient or modern, should justify such treatment of an inoffensive ship. But the opera itself, musically speaking, will never become popular with our public. When a man becomes great and reaches the pinnacle of fame he should be content. But Meyerbeer attempted one step beyond ‘Les Huguenots,’ and hence ‘L’Africaine.’”