Maretzek Italian Opera: Il Trovatore

“There is not much to be said of the performance of ‘Trovatore’ last night. It was dull and shabby, and the audience was small and very quiet. Probably the difficulty of getting conveyances kept many people at home; certainly the attractions at the Opera House were not strong enough to induce anybody to come from very afar afoot. Miss Kellogg has not yet done herself full justice this season, and though she gave certain passages last night with strength, brilliancy, a smooth and facile execution and all her usual purity and sweetness of tone, there was the same veil over her lower notes and the same weakness, particularly during the earlier scenes of the opera, of which we have spoken before. If the depressing influences of the evening sometimes seemed to affect her spirits we have no reason to be surprised. Such as the ‘Trovatore’ was last night, she bore it almost alone. Sig. Abrugnedo sang wretchedly. Sig. Moriami and Señora Sanz were entirely uninteresting. Verdi’s opera has been done so well in New-York that it seems hardly worth while to waste criticism on a representation which would only have been pardonable in a second of third rate provincial city.”

“’Il Trovatore’ was sung at the Academy of Music last evening. The performance, in which Miss Kellogg, Señorita Sanz and Signori Abrugnedo and Moriami took part, was a very satisfying one, and ought to have been witnessed by a much more numerous audience than its announcement attracted.”

“Verdi’s greatest work, despite the wrongs it has endured at the hands of irresponsible singers, amateur impresarii, boarding school misses and organ grinders, has steadily maintained its popularity with the mass of opera goers. Those to whom it is distasteful judge of it from a wrong standpoint. When soloists, chorus and orchestra unite in producing a fitting ensemble, this opera cannot fail to excite enthusiasm. Miss Kellogg’s voice has increased in volume of tone within the past couple of years and has also acquired a certain dramatic quality, which, united to its original limpidity of tone, fits her lyrically as a worthy representative of the heroine of Verdi’s opera. She sang ‘Tacea la Notte,’ an andante aria which demands of the vocalist calmness and repose with a deal of expression in the first part and a rapturous, passionate spirit in the second. In this Miss Kellogg displayed the new qualities she has gained for her style of singing. The cabaletta that follows was delivered with due brilliancy, the execution of the sparkling fiorituri showing large resources of pure vocalization. Probably the greatest test of the dramatic power in this work is the meeting between Leonora and Manrico, when she addresses him with ‘E deggio e posso crederlo.’ The agitation of the meeting and the joy at her rescue from the Count is beautifully expressed in the broken phrases of the music. Immediately after the fierce interchange of defiance between the rivals comes an ensemble similar in character to what we have mentioned, ‘E questo o sogno.’

Miss Kellogg has not yet acquired the dramatic intensity necessary to rise to the grandeur of this scene. She invested the well known scena, ‘D’Amor sull’ali rosee,’ with attractiveness by her pure, intelligent phrasing, judicious management of the voice throughout the trying measures and large compass of the aria, and ended it with a cadenza of singular beauty and adaptability. In the succeeding ‘Miserere’ she performed her share of the music commendably. ‘Tu vedrai,’ ‘Mira, di acerbe lagrima’ and the death scene make large demands on the reserve power of the prima donna, coming as they do at the end of the opera, after so many exhausting scenes. Here, we opine, Miss Kellogg made the strongest points, and created a favorable impression even on those to whom this opera is a household word. In fine, she sings the music all through with care and intelligence, and if in some of the scenes she does not realize the intensity of passion required, and lacked the emotional qualities of the tragedienne, she compensates for it to some extent by her knowledge of the music, trying as it is, of this opera. Mlle. Sanz essayed the rôle of the revengeful gipsy, and, luckily, was in good voice. Of course, the first scene of the second act depended mostly upon her, and she gave quite a picturesque portrayal of the wrongs and miseries of the victims of the sanguinary Court. Signor Abrugnedo was not in good voice, and it is unnecessary to enter into particulars as to the consequences, when such a blatant character as Manrico is considered. In one place he partly redeemed himself. This was in the andante ‘Ah! si ben mio,’ which he sang with much feeling. But this was an oasis in a desert of failure, or at least vocal platitudes. Signor Moriami, as the revengeful and tyrannical Count di Luna, proved to be ‘the mildest-mannered villain that ever cut throat or scuttled ship.’ He is quite an amiable tyrant, and, like Mark Tapley, tries to be jolly under all circumstances. And he sings not comme un ange mais comme le --------. Well, let it rest there. Were Verdi present to hear this gentleman execute the music assigned to the baritone in this opera we would tremble for the consequences. There would certainly be an émeute. M. Coulon was a sufficiently forbidding Fernando—so much so that the audience thought they would rather see him in the character of Di Luna than the gentleman who essayed that part.”

“To begin with the Italian Opera—which, musically, is of the least importance—we had on Monday, Oct. 28, a wretched representation of the Trovatore, with Miss Kellogg as Leonora, supported by a cast the most pitiable which I ever saw. The Prima Donna I will not criticize, as she was weighed down and depressed by the coldness of the audience, and would have sung better had her surroundings been different.”