Maretzek Italian Opera: La Figlia del regimmento; Pauline Lucca Benefit

“The cordiality of the audience last night at the Academy of Music was all that the best friend of Madame Lucca could have wished. The numerous shortcomings of a very scratchy performance were pardoned—perhaps were hardly noticed—in the general desire to bid a hearty God speed to the attractive little woman who was to take leave of us for several months. Applause was almost continuous, and the flowers were overpowering; while Madame Lucca recognized the demonstrations of her admirers with more than usual impressiveness of demeanor. The opera was the ‘Daughter of the Regiment.’ In the music lesson scene the prima donna introduced first, Mozart’s beautiful song, ‘Das Veilchen,’ in German, and afterward ‘Home, Sweet Home,’ in English, an interpolation which, of course, created for a few moments something like an uproar of delight.

To-night Miss Kellogg will take her benefit, and so will close a season which has reflected no credit upon the management, has done nothing for the advancement of art, has only demonstrated indeed that this is a wonderfully patient public.”

“A representation of ‘La Figlia del Reggimento,’ last evening, brought to a close, so far as Mme. Lucca’s labors are in question, the season of opera which has extended over the past four weeks. A brilliant audience filled the Academy of Music to overflowing, and the performance—the final one in which Mme. Lucca is to take part for at least a year—was marked by demonstrations likely to cause it to be long and pleasantly remembered. Of the excellences of Mme. Lucca’s performance of Maria, a brief mention appeared in this place on Saturday, after the first hearing of ‘La Figlia,’ with the artists concerned in yesterday’s work. Mme. Lucca last night, as on Friday, acted the part with an unswerving appreciation of its requirements, with the heartiness apparent in all her efforts, and with a vis comica as genuine as the tragic power she has so often shown in the grander rôles of the repertory. The recital of the tuneful numbers of the score did her equal credit, and when we note that to the recital of the song of the regiment, of ‘Convien partier,’ of the highly ornate canzonet in the scene at the piano, of the ‘Rataplan’ duet, and of the patriotic air suggested by the sound of the advancing troops, was added a very expressive and finished rendering of Mozart’s ‘The Violet’ (in German.) and of ‘Home, Sweet Home’ (in English.) it will be granted that the task of the songstress was not so light as the reputation of ‘La Figlia’ would imply it to have been. Of the other performers, and of the remainder of the entertainment, it is only necessary to say that Signor Vizzani delivered smoothly enough the music written for Tonio, that Signor Ronconi evoked much merriment as Sulpizio, and that the chorus and orchestra were both well in hand. We referred above to the enthusiasm of the audience, and to the agreeable incidents resulting therefrom. Although little or no prominence had been given to the fact that the representation was Mme. Lucca’s last, the auditorium was crowded, and the manifestations of delight were unanimous and almost continuous. Sporadic applause was of little moment under such circumstances, and liberal gifts of flowers seemed graceful but personal tributes only; the potency of Mme. Lucca’s genius had much stronger testimony in three summonses before the footlights after act the first, in four recalls after the second act, and in seven successive reappearances after the third. The proceedings at the Academy of Music were supplemented by a serenade, which occurred in front of Mme. Lucca’s dwelling, in Fourteenth-street. It was tendered by the Eleventh Regiment, whose band defied the elements for almost an hour, and attracted under the balcony of the prima donna throngs of sight-seers.” 

“One of the grandest ovations ever bestowed on any artist in this country was that which last night was tendered to Madame Lucca by the public of New York.

The elegant assembly that crowded the house to its utmost, the reunion of culture, wealth and celebrities of all kinds, the brilliant reception accorded to the artist on her first appearance, the numberless and splendid bouquets and baskets and hearts and harps, flowers in every shape and form, the numberless recalls—all these together showed that Madame Lucca had a much firmer hold on the favor of the American public than people imagined; and that whatever petty intriguers might try there is no fear that real talent, real inspiration and the real value of a great artist should not be appreciated, because there is no rock against which all envy and jealousy and petty spites break—that is, the common sense of the people. Madame Lucca is not a trained singer like Miss Nilsson, who is grace, elegance, voice, mind, and all finished by culture and training; her voice, though uncommonly rich, has not the extent of that full voice of Alboni, nor can she boast of the faultless distinction of Jenny Lind or the vocalization of Madame Parepa. Hers is an organization of extraordinary gifts. What nature can give—grave voice and fine dramatic passion—are hers. The few artists in this troupe who are good have received full justice. It is highly satisfactory to see that the musical tastes of the American public have been thus far educated as to have an opinion of their own, and that they will stand to impartial judges and to truth.

That Madame Lucca excited, to a degree by this extraordinary success, developed all the treasury of her rich organization, that she touched and amused, delighted and carried her audience, is but natural. The surprise which in yesterday’s issue we announced was the ‘Violet’ of Mozart, and after this ‘Home, Sweet Home,’ breathed out with a soul, a meaning, a depth of feeling that sent the house into raptures. Did she think of the time when she had seventy-five dollars a year, which would not have paid for half the bouquets which to-night will be thrown away like dust? Did a thought arise in her mind of the time when she waited in the cold rain to get her poor weekly pay to buy bread, while she stood last night with thirty thousand dollars’ worth of diamonds about her neck, humbly laid at her feet by one of the greatest sovereigns of Europe? And still we must say whatever distinction, honors, flowers and diamonds were heaped upon her, she deserves all; and delight which her voice, her expression, her perfect poses, give to the public justify all the gâleries possible. If art is ‘the expression of the human soul in all its varieties of feeling, thought and passion,’ then Lucca is a true artist, for the intensity of her expression, be it of grace or passion, of sadness or fun, never leaves her. She is continually the part itself, continually en scene, and in a part like the ‘Child of the Regiment’ where the acting is so important, her success must necessarily be the most brilliant.

Miss Kellogg, who was in the audience, repeatedly bent from her box, applauding with a hearty will.

Madame Lucca was ably supported by Signor Ronconi, who several times elicited the applause of this great assembly by his refined, never vulgar, plaisanteries. Ronconi was once one of the greatest singers, and though his voice is in a measure gone, the great actor remains.

Signor Vizzani, who has taken a little rest, seems to have recovered his vocal powers, and he did his best, and that is with him something.”

“An overflowing and enthusiastic audience assembled at the Academy yesterday evening on the occasion of the farewell benefit of Mme. Pauline Lucca. ‘La Figlia del Reggimento’ of Donizetti was repeated. The sparkling music of this composer is especially adapted to Lucca, and, so far as acting goes, it is just the grade of comedy suited to her. Her rendition of the well-known aria ‘Ciascun io dice’ was marked with a naïve humor and admirable vocalization that called forth an enthusiastic encore and a torrent of floral favors. It is worth while noting that she commences this piano instead of maestoso, and gives it the latter expression in the second verse. The ‘Convien Partir’ was not sung last night in Lucca’s best style, and, indeed, she seemed to suffer slightly from the extremely sudden change of the atmosphere without. At the end of the act she was again and again recalled, and poor old Ronconi had hard work carrying in her bouquets. The little prima donna, it was evident, had obtained a deep hold on the affection of music-loving and genius-admiring New Yorkers. The second act, in which the ‘music lesson’ is the great feature, brought another triumph to Miss Lucca. Her singing of Mozart’s ‘Das Veilchen’ in German was loudly applauded, but ‘Home, Sweet Home’ was the ballad on which the audience set their hearts. It was given in all the vocal glory of her rich, full tones, with a delicacy and tenderness of expression that was not lost upon a single soul in the crowded house. Lucca’s English may need some repairing, but she thoroughly understood the beautiful lines, and at the close it was encored as an American audience only can encore an American song. In the remainder of the ‘singing lesson,’ where good support is needed, the burden was left completely on her shoulders, the vivacity of Ronconi’s Sulpizio being a thing living only in shadow. At the fall of the curtain the audience remained to pay her the marked compliment of six vigorous recalls, each of which she acknowledged avec effusion. It was a $6,000 house.”