Maretzek Italian Opera: Mignon

“The scene presented by the auditorium of the Academy of Music, last evening, was in no respect fitted to remind one of the Lenten season. A very large audience was in attendance to enjoy the recital of ‘Mignon,’ and the gathering was as brilliant as it was numerous, and enthusiastic in proportion. These facts having been noted, there is little need to dwell at great length upon the representation itself. When ‘Mignon’ was first made known in this City, much space was devoted to a review of the elaborate, often melodious, and occasionally sparkling music which M. Ambroise Thomas has supplied as an accompaniment to the events suggested by Goethe’s ‘Wilhelm Meister;’ and, at a period less remote, Mme. Pauline Lucca’s personation of Mignon was spoken of in the terms of admiration justified by a picture combining fidelity with rare dramatic impressiveness. Suffice it, then, to say, at present, that yesterday’s recital of ‘Mignon’ revived the familiar sensations, and wrought the wonted results. The sweet song in which Mignon’s recollections of the sunny land of her birth are rehearsed; the pretty duet, illustrative of the flight of the swallows; the quaint styrienne, with its bravura termination and ornate cadenza—splendidly sung by Mme. Lucca, who bends her grand voice to her will as though it were the lightest of sopranos; the forceful action of the latter part of the second act, when the acclamations intended for Filina reach the outcast’s ear; and the touching incidents of act the third, with the beautiful prayer, were, as heretofore, the stages of the entertainment best understood and most applauded, in a performance as remarkable, nevertheless, for truthfulness of conception and symmetry of execution as for actual ‘points.’ Mme. Lucca was of course called before the curtain at the end of acts second and third, and the encore for the styrienne was too decided to be met with aught but obedience. Miss Kellogg, whose facile and correct vocalization was fully appreciated throughout the recital, had to repeat the polonaise, and was summoned before the footlights after the curtain had fallen upon the spectacle of the burning theatre. The remaining parts were sustained by Signor Vizzani, who has again and again proved a very acceptable representative of Guglielmo, and who last evening delivered with especial smoothness and effect the lovely romance in the last act; by M. Jamet, whose dignified picture of Lothario has stood the test of two seasons; by Mr. Lyall, who was Laerte, and by Senorita Sanz, who embodied Federico.” 

“In having something to express, and in the art of expressing it, lies the whole mystery of singing, composing, writing and delivery. Monsieur Ambroise Thomas has not a great deal to express, and he depends therefore very much on the performers of his works and their art of expressing his meaning. ‘Mignon’ has taken hold of the public taste to a certain extent for the same reason that gives Ambroise Thomas a higher position among French composers than his genius entitles him to; that is, the lack of competition.

This opera, by no means a great work in originality, conception, instrumentation or grandeur of any kind, contains pleasing parts, is graceful and artistic, well arranged, and has the merit of affording the performers the opportunity which they appreciate most—that of appearing to advantage.

The great power of Madame Lucca’s voice, her deep and impressive phrasing, the intensity of her expression, her earnest and elevated feeling, find full scope for exercise in this melodramatic opera, which is no more Goethe’s ‘Mignon’ than the over-sentimental lover cooing in Monsieur Gounod’s airs is the great philosopher Faust himself. Madame Lucca’s voice sounded last night a little deep, and in some instances trembling, an indication of fatigue; and her incomparably wonderful rendering of ‘Knowest Thou the Land,’ one of the finest performances of adagio singing ever heard on the operatic stage, was thereby a little marred. As she went on, however, her voice recovered itself entirely, and the treble recall and encore in the second act were fully deserved. Miss Kellogg availed herself of the fine opportunity afforded her to show off her clear, flexible voice and fine vocalization, in the famous cadenza, which, without being of an entirely faultless purity of intonation in the chromatic progression, nevertheless was so effective as to elicit the heartiest applause.

Signor Vizzani, the only Italian in this Italian opera—a French work, performed by a German, an American and a Spanish prima donna, a Belgian, an English and a French singer—is as cold as the music which he has to sing. Ambroise Thomas’s love for recitative, which is with him only a wise economy of melody, finds in Madame Lucca the most wonderful interpreter on the stage, because recitative singing requires an earnest study of [illegible] already excluded from the present Italian school. We cannot recommend Signor Vizzani as the Wilhelm Meister that the poet or the composer could wish.

Miss Sanz, in her small part, pleases mainly the eye, which is not difficult for her to do. Monsieur Jamet is a conscientious singer and actor, and Messrs. Lyall and Dubreuil made themselves acceptable in their parts.

The chorus and orchestra will scarcely improve for these few weeks to come, and though Mr. Maretzek led last night with an ability and constant care which does him the greatest credit, the diminishing of the number of stringed instruments must be mentioned as what we believe to be a mistake, the effect of which is all the more deplorable that the weakness of this orchestra particularly lies in the wind instruments. An economy to be wise must answer the same purpose with less expense, but it can scarcely be wise to sacrifice the effect for very subordinate reasons.”

“Last night’s representation of ‘Mignon’ at the Academy of Music was exceedingly cold and spiritless. In a great measure this was due to the opera itself, made up, as it is, of recitative and almost devoid, as M. Thomas chose to make it, of arias or sprightliness of any kind. Dullness reigned all over the house, and the curtain fell on the first act without any recognition of any of the artists or a single demonstration of delight. In the second act Mme. Lucca received a recall, and toward the close of the performance more warmth was exhibited. But both performers and performance were far below the standard of excellence that is claimed for them. If we had not seen other exhibitions of Mme. Lucca’s powers as an actress and a singer we should place her very little above mediocrity. ‘Mignon’ is not a creation in which she can shine with particular brilliancy. The Filina of Miss Kellogg, on the other hand, was as good as anything she does, but it was singularly unsympathetic, except in the polonaise in the third act, where she gained a great triumph. Señora Sanz as Federico was very bad indeed. Her singing was as bad as her gait, and that she seemed to choose for its absurdity. None of the others require any particular mention. There was nothing to criticize, for nothing was done wherein it was possible to detect true art. There were many defects, of course, such as Lucca singing a quarter and Kellogg half a tone too low in their trills, and the failure to develop any display of power or genius in many points where these things could have been shown by a great artist; but where there was nothing to praise it is needless to condemn.”

“Opera in New York is always characterized by mismanagement of some kind. This season the weakness of the company has been the cause of chronic dissatisfaction, and added to it was a badly chosen répertoire. A favorite artist in ‘Mignon,’ as Nilsson was, and especially when M. Ambroise Thomas’ music was an unknown quantity on this side of the Atlantic, was something which might please us for the moment; but because Nilsson pleased in this, and Lucca had pleased as Zerlina in ‘Fra Diavolo,’ it was unfair to assume that the latter could more than fill the place of the former. We make no comparison between the two artists, for comparison is not criticism, but we point only to a fact. ‘Mignon’ creates no enthusiasm in New York. Rather warm applause of the terzetto, the styrienne and the polonaise is not enthusiasm. Yet the opera has been sung repeatedly this season and is again on the bills for to-morrow evening. Let us see what is offered us. To begin at the beginning the overture lacks form and compactness. It commences with an andante which has little meaning and ends with the polonaise, certainly the gem of the opera. The introduction begins with a lively movement and chorus, in which there are some characteristic strains, and then comes a valse movement, of very vulgar motives. After Mignon is asked to dance and refuses, recitative follows recitative, inadequately relieved by a short piece for Guglielmo (Vizzani); a trio, between Filina (Miss Kellogg), Guglielmo and Laerto, and a duet between Mignon (Mme. Lucca) and Lotario (Jamet). The piece falls flat in the attempt to produce something sprightly, the trio possesses no distinct melody and shows only an effort at something which the composer fails to obtain, and the duet is simple and very pretty, but so short that we suffer the tortures of Tantalus, the cup being held to our lips only to be dashed away. M. Thomas doubtless wishes to imitate Wagner and his contemporaries, but to do this successfully requires a greater mind and more profound knowledge of musical science than the composer of ‘Mignon’ and ‘Hamlet’ possesses. The finale to the first act is acceptable on account of its light and airy character, being natural and not forced or strained, a proof to our mind that M. Thomas ought not to forget that he is a Frenchman, and that he should confine himself to the free and dashing fiend school. The recitative continues to deaden the opera to the end; but the other acts have some meritorious points which are lacking in the first, as the terzetto, the styrienne and the polonaise, the last especially being very dashing in its rhythm and only marred by a too manifest desire to be as effective and novel as possible. The prayer near the end is very refreshing on account of its simplicity, but even where the numbers are most effective it is always evident that the composer wishes to excel in new inventions in harmony as well as in melody. Only under unusual circumstances, with a company peculiarly fitted to the parts, can the opera prove anything but a dull and weary performance. Mr. Maretzek can give us something better—something more suitable to his singers and more acceptable to his patrons, and we entreat him to do it, not forgetting that ‘Mignon’ afforded one gratification—the singing of his best artists on the same evening.”