Maretzek Italian Opera: Il Trovatore

“There was a fair but not a very large audience at the Academy of Music last night to witness ‘Il Trovatore’ with Miss Kellogg as Leonora. In the first act of the opera the prima donna showed some remains of the affliction of the voice which we noticed on her first appearance this season, her lower notes being weak and veiled, and her delivery less facile than it commonly is. As the evening wore away, however, these defects were overcome. She gave the tower scene with all the freshness of tone and grace of execution which we have admired in her singing during previous seasons, and added to these merits an unusual dramatic force and a great deal of brilliancy. The only unbought applause heard during the whole performance was bestowed upon her share in this scene, and it was bestowed most worthily. We have often expressed in warm terms our admiration of Miss Kellogg’s Leonora, and if it did not—except in the one number we have mentioned—arouse last night the enthusiasm it has sometimes kindled before, that must be attributed in great measure to others besides Miss Kellogg herself. She has seldom had to sing in more discouraging company. The other personages of the drama struggled through their respective parts with more or less difficulty; the orchestra repeatedly went astray; the chorus was false, and even the inevitable Reichardt fell below his normal wretchedness. Sig. Abrugnedo, Signor Moriami, and Señora Sanz were the chief of Miss Kellogg’s supporters, and we can only say of them that they fully confirmed the unfavorable opinion we had formed of them before. It is apparent in fact that the present company consists of only three artists,--Mme. Lucca, Miss Kellogg, and M. Jamet,--and the appearance of the house last night gave the managers warning of what they may expect if something more be not done to fulfill the brilliant promises of their prospectus.”

“It is a matter of no little remark that a New-York season of Italian opera should reach its seventh night before the management should tender a representation of ‘Il Trovatore.’ That work, however, familiarity with which has well nigh bred contempt, was given last evening at the Academy, and brought with it some elements of astonishment. Nothing is more productive of excitement than the unexpected. It certainly was not looked for that Miss Kellogg should present an agreeable and painstaking picture of Leonora—although we may say at once that the spirit and histrionic excellence of the lady’s performance, being far in advance of what she has hitherto given us in the character, was the theme, last night, of general admiration. But few, it must be admitted, believed that the Manrico of the occasion was likely to prove other than a disappointment. Signor Abrugnedo, it was commonly whispered, may be a very fine tenor, but so far, undeniably, ‘It hath not appeared.’ Whether due to the sudden cold, to the undisciplined condition of his organ for lack of practice, or to some other less obvious cause, the gentleman’s efforts have hitherto failed to come up to popular expectation. But, from the very opening bars of his music last night, Signor Abrugnedo commanded the warm approval of his audience. The applause, in fact, was so enthusiastic on the singing of his first passage that he was summoned to appear prematurely to receive the public congratulations; and, partly inspired by this, no doubt, and perhaps by feeling greater confidence in his voice, the tenor acquitted himself so well in subsequent efforts as quite to astonish his hearers, if not altogether to reverse a verdict on his powers, which heretofore could not honestly be called favorable. Unfortunately, Signor Abrugnedo’s voice wearied perceptibly as he went on; and while, striving as he manifestly was, to please, his efforts were cordially responded to by the house, his throat was not in condition to give that vociferative effect to ‘Di Quella Pira’ to which our opera-goers have become accustomed, and the absence of which they find unsatisfactory. We think it but kind and right ro say that Signor Abrugnedo is, and, since his arrival, has been, under medical treatment, and that a really just opinion of his powers is scarcely to be reached until he is relieved from his present disabilities.

Of Miss Kellogg’s Leonora it is simple justice to affirm, to begin with, that it bears marks of study, aspiration and ripened intellectual feeling. She always sang the music as one sings who has a fine voice by nature and has become a fine vocalist by art; but she sings it now as one who, by expanded imagination and a widened range of sympathy, has gained a higher level of lyric competency. It is greatly to Miss Kellogg’s credit that she has never been satisfied, lavishly as it has been extolled, with her own work as it is or has been; she has always toiled and elaborated to make it better. Keeping in view a lofty ideal, she has labored steadily to come up to it; and the applause she has received—applause, be it remembered, very remarkable as bestowed on an American girl competing with Italian artists of the first rank in their own field, and especially when we recollect that twenty years ago not one person in ten thousand believed that any American woman could ever make a success in Italian opera at all—has never intoxicated her or made her falter in effort or swerve one jot from the path she had marked out for herself. Miss Kellogg was cheered to the echo last night, and even the most critical and exacting of her auditors owned that she had surpassed herself in Leonora and amply sustained her high reputation as a thoroughly progressive singer and lyric actress. The rich and sympathetic contralto of Señora Sanz lent fresh interest last night to the unpleasant part of Azucena, and materially assisted the good fortune of the entertainment. The lady decidedly improved her position with the public, and was listened to with close attention and much applauded. Signor Moriami was the Count Di Luna, and, if he did not efface the memory of other representatives, he fortified the impression gained by his own previous essays, of a claim to be considered an honest, ambitious and praiseworthy artist. Ferrando fell to the lot of Signor Coulon, who did much better with the part than any one heard at the Academy within our recollection. Mr. Maretzek had his instruments and voices well under control last night, and contrived in most instances to make them preserve a satisfactory unanimity. Probably the people will get tired of ‘Il Trovatore’ in time; but it is not unreasonable to admit that a performance in which there is so much of good and so little of bad as that of this occasion is unlikely to hasten the period of popular aversion.”

“Miss Kellogg sang Leonora in ‘Il Trovatore’ last night under the disadvantage of a small and singularly undemonstrative audience. The numbers of her hearers did not increase as the evening wore on, but the lovely and gifted prima donna succeeded before the final fall of the curtain in overcoming something of their apathy, and it would have been strange indeed had they remained cold throughout, for she probably never sang Leonora quite so well before. In the first act, whether from the discouraging indifference of the house or from some lingering trace of his late indisposition, her notes came not so full and strong and seemed to find not so fluent an expression as usual, but she was herself in the second act, and to the later passages of the opera in which she participated she brought all her taste, culture and conscientiousness, with a force of characterization beyond even the expectations of her friends. 

Signora Sanz sang the very laborious and somewhat somber part of Azucena with intelligence and feeling, and in several scenes produced a decided effect with the rich middle notes of her voice, but it was evident she had not strength for the full rendering of the music. Signor Abrugnedo in like manner betrayed the evidence of having been overtasked, but it is due to him to say that he produced a far more favorable impression than in any previous appearance, and in the scena of the ‘Miserere,’ where he was heard and not seen, he most effectively supplemented the magnificent vocalization of Miss Kellogg. For the rest, it may be said, that despite some faults of the chorus (which was better, however, than usual,) and even some little carelessness on the part of the orchestra, the opera was carried through satisfactorily, and that Miss Kellogg almost raised the audience at last to enthusiasm.”

“The appearance last night of Miss Kellogg in the rôle of Leonora failed to awaken any very marked enthusiasm. The Academy was well attended, but could hardly be said to be filled, and there was not the same brilliancy of costumes that is so noticeable when some popular favorite takes possession of the boards. The cause of public indifference is variously accounted for. The friends of Miss Kellogg, and they are energetic if not numerous, attribute it to a weakness in the American public for running after foreign stars, while native talent of equal merit is allowed to remain without recognition. There may be some grains of truth in this pleading; but if we are to take last night’s performance as a sample of what Miss Kellogg can accomplish at her best then we must admit of another and less favorable explanation of the lukewarmness of the public. The rôle of Leonora has always been a favorite one with lyric artists. It gives opportunities for the display of brilliant vocalization and full scope for all the dramatic power a prima donna may possess. A great actress with a voice of ordinary power might become immortal in picturing the tenderness and passion which culminates in the death scene, and no one who has not the dramatic instinct well developed can hope ever to win the public affections or come up to the sublime ideal in this rôle.  

Miss Kellogg is unfortunately wanting in dramatic talent. She fails to inspire sympathy, and no amount of talent can compensate for the want of this power. There were moments last night when passion found fitting expression, but somehow it lacked that sympathetic quality which electrifies an audience and secures success. Her vocalization is brilliant and remarkably pure, and she never fails to impress her audience as a thoroughly cultivated artiste. The aria ‘Amor Sull’Ali Rosee’ was given with a tenderness and sympathy quite unexpected, at the same time that it afforded an opportunity, which was improved, to display brilliant vocalization. The aria ‘I Detti a Me, Signore’ was also delightfully sung. In the last act especially Miss Kellogg was the recipient of warm applause.

Signor Abrugnedo as Il Trovatore would unquestionably have been a great success had he not been suffering from the effects of a severe cold. He got on very well until he reached the higher notes; but here the cold asserted itself, and on one occasion his voice gave way. In the latter acts, however, he rallied and sung the ‘Di Quella Pira’ in brilliant style, but without awakening any response.

The truth seems to be, the audience were watching for the nota attacata with which Wachtel was wont to bring down the house, and as it did not come they allowed a rendering of that magnificent song, infinitely better given from an artistic point of view, to pass without the slightest acknowledgment.

Perhaps they could not forgive him because his voice failed him once. But the real cause is that New York wants a sensation, and whoever can scream the highest and most barbarous note is certain to be the favorite of the hour.

Our motto is ‘Art is loud.’ The stupid old Romans used to think it was ‘long,’ but we have changed all that.

Moriami did better as the Count de Luna than we expected. It is true he was not quite up to our standard in the tender passages. His rendition of the ‘Il balen’ was honored by a recall; but we confess we did not appreciate it. There was not enough simplicity to satisfy us, nor was the exquisite tenderness of the air rendered by the artist. 

Senora Sanz, who has quite recovered from her indisposition, made quite a hit in the rôle of ‘Azucena.’ This lady displayed a dramatic power of a high order, which lent intensity to her vocal interpretation of the rôle. Her voice is rather light for the part, but it was so well managed that the audience were not reminded of the fact. Her vocalization is at once pure and brilliant. Her conception of the part was dramatic without being heavy. In the prison scene the rendering of the air ‘Ai Nostri Monti’ was remarkably sweet, and earned for her an enthusiastic encore. The choruses were satisfactorily given, especially the ‘Soldiers’ Chorus,’ which was given more intelligently than is usual at the Academy. At the conclusion of the opera the principal artists were called before the curtain and were warmly applauded.”

“Repeats of works (with one exception) already heard this season have sufficed to draw fine houses through the week to the opera. Mme. Lucca has been laboring under a very heavy cold ever since she began to sing. Her resolution, however, not to disappoint the public has been rigidly adhered to, and her sway over the public has grown more potent with each fresh appearance before them. On Monday Miss Kellogg sang Leonora in ‘Il Trovatore,’ and sang it with more dramatic power, if not with more vocal charm, than ever before. The lady’s improvement is decided and warrants the warm congratulations of her friends.”

“There was a pretty good sprinkling of people in the orchestra stalls and dress circle of the Academy yesterday and a rather slender array in the in the boxes. The opera was the most popular of Verdi’s works, with Miss Clara Louise Kellogg as the heroine. The fair prima donna was in excellent voice and she sang the well known numbers of Leonora very commendably, in the tower scene in particular. Miss Kellogg has had the good fortune to have escaped, or, at least, yesterday she was free from the deleterious effects of this treacherous weather, which has placed so many members of the company hors de combat. Abrugnedo made a more favorable impression in the rôle of Manrico than on Monday evening, as his voice was in better condition. He even essayed the ut de poitrine in ‘Di Quella Pira,’ and drew forth the inevitable storm of applause for it. He invested the beautiful aria, ‘Ah! si Ben Mio,’ with considerable expression and sympathetic tenderness, and gave entire satisfaction in the serenade and tower scenes. Traces of indisposition, however, were visible in his voice in the other parts of the opera. Mme. Sanz made a decided success by her clever impersonation of the revengeful gypsy. Her acting and singing in the second act call for words of no equivocal commendation. Moriami, who appeared as the Count, was still under the influence of a hoarse voice, and did not create an impression calculated to make him a popular favorite. Chorus and orchestra were in good time and did their work nicely.”