Strakosch Italian Opera: Les Huguenots

Event Information

Venue(s):
Academy of Music

Manager / Director:
Max Strakosch

Conductor(s):
Emanuele Muzio

Price: $2 general admission; $1 family circle; $1-2 extra reserved

Event Type:
Opera

Record Information

Status:
Published

Last Updated:
14 February 2025

Performance Date(s) and Time(s)

10 Nov 1873, 8:00 PM
12 Nov 1873, 8:00 PM

Program Details

Originally scheduled for 11/07/73 but replaced that evening by Verdi’s Ernani owing to Nilsson’s indisposition (see separate event entry of that date).

Performers and/or Works Performed

1)
aka Hugenotten
Composer(s): Meyerbeer
Text Author: Scribe
Participants:  Corps de ballet, unidentified;  Strakosch Italian Opera Company;  Louise Billon;  G. [tenor] Boy;  Christine Nilsson (role: Valentina);  Annie Louise Cary (role: Urban);  Giuseppe Del Puente (role: Count de Nevers);  Italo Campanini (role: Raoul de Nangis);  Alice Maresi (role: Marguerite);  Romano Nannetti (role: Marcel);  Victor Maurel (role: Count de St. Bris)

Citations

1)
Advertisement: New-York Times, 12 January 1873, 7.
2)
Announcement: New York Sun, 01 November 1873, 2.

At conclusion of review for earlier performance. “This latter noble opera [The Huguenots] has been under careful rehearsal for some time, and there is every reason to believe that we shall have a performance of memorable excellence, for with his large and well-appointed company, the manager has it in his power to fill all the subordinate parts adequately, and it is on the manner in which these lesser parts—none of which in Meyerbeer are insignificant—are filled that the finish and completeness of a performance and the satisfaction to be obtained from it in great part depend.”

3)
Advertisement: New-York Times, 03 November 1873, 7.

Announces date as 11/07/73.

4)
Announcement: New York Post, 06 November 1873, 2.

“On Friday evening ‘Les Huguenots’ will be produced, Madame Nilsson appearing as Valentine, a part which she has never sung before. Miss Cary will be the Page and Mlle. Maresi the Queen. As Raoul, it is expected that Campanini will reveal qualities of which his American audiences are as yet unaware. In this splendid rôle he has made eminent successes abroad, and his friends assert that it is his greatest personation. Nannetti, the Marcel of the evening, has sung the part of the stern Huguenot soldier in Poland, and its music seems well fitted to his style. Both of the baritones will take part in this opera, Maurel appearing as St. Bris and del Puente as Nevers. The cast is altogether an excellent one, and the production of the great work will be a marked feature of the present operatic season.”

5)
Announcement: New York Post, 07 November 1873, 2.

“This evening the music lovers will bear in mind the production of the ‘Huguenots’ takes place at the Academy of Music. The occasion will be a brilliant one. If artistically successful, as there is every reason to suppose that it will be, it will place Madame Nilsson’s name on a still higher lyric plane than it has yet occupied. Valentine is a part in which prima donnas of the school of Grisi have found scope for the fullest display of their genius. Madame Nilsson’s triumphs have been hitherto associated with the lighter and more graceful phrases of the lyric art. The tender melancholy of Lucia, the piquancy of Mignon, the woes of Violetta, have all found exquisite expression in the genius of Nilsson. To-night will decide whether she has done prudently in essaying to reproduce the passionate intensity of Valentine. Supported by Campanini in his best part, it is easy to imagine what a glorious success awaits her in the fourth act. It will be remembered that Miss Cary, Maurel and Del Puente all take part in this important revival.”

6)
Advertisement: New-York Times, 08 November 1873, 9.

Announces rescheduled date of 11/10/73.

7)
Advertisement: New York Herald, 08 November 1873, 12.

“Grand orchestra, 50. Grand chorus, 60.”

8)
Review: New-York Daily Tribune, 11 November 1873, 4.

Portions difficult to read owing to black bar running down right side of column. “‘The Huguenots’ drew a very fine audience last night, and the performance may be called good, and in at least one scene, a decidedly brilliant one. The opera is one of those picturesque and mediocre works which rarely fail to impress the public, although it exacts a much more careful preparation and [illeg.] stronger cast than most managers are able to give it. Some of its richest effects depend upon the careful adjustment of the [illeg.], the perfect drill of the orchestra, the discipline and power of the chorus, and a faculty of mutual adaptation among the principals. Lacking any of those things and we know how commonly they are all neglected—the first half of the opera invariably becomes tame. Mr. Strakosch has shown rather more than his usual [illeg.] in mounting this work; he has set the stage with reasonable degree of taste; he has made [illeg., could be “pretty”] good use of the ballet, and Sig. Muzio has certainly taken great pains with his orchestra. The chorus, however, is too important a part of ‘The Huguenots’ to be passed over without criticism, and it must be said that it was not creditable last night, and that there was not a perfect undertaking between the singers and their leader, and [illeg., likely “not”] always an entire agreement among the principal artists. Partly for this reason and partly from other [illeg.] first two acts—or the first three, as the opera was divided on this occasion—were rather dull. Beyond the two favorite airs of Urbain, which were charmingly sung by Miss Cary, and [illeg.] music allotted to Marcel, which Sig. Nannetti delivered with admirable spirit and a fine [illeg.], there was nothing to call for enthusiasm. In the third Act [sic] however the fortunes of the night were deemed. The Benediction of the Poignards, with Maurel in the voice of St. Bris, went off fully, and the Invocation by the Monks was weak, and the [illeg.] was imperfect; but the great [illeg.] between Valentine and Raoul left no opportunity for adverse criticism. Mme. Nilsson invests the [illeg.] scenes with an indeserinable [sic] [illeg…]; but here the grandeur of that [illeg.] and loving character breaks forth with a splendor unsurpassed on our stage. The parting with Raoul is perhaps the most tragical passage in the modern drama, and we have no words to describe the [illeg.] which Mme. Nilsson produces with it. If we say in this scene she displays a deeper emotion [illeg.] than she has generally and the credit of [illeg…] the genius than she has showed in ‘Faust,’ or ‘Mignon,’ or ‘Hamlet,’ we shall [illeg.] imperfectly the impression that she produced last night. We are not sure but it ought to be [illeg.] most brilliant triumph she has achieved in America. The Raoul of Sig. Campanini was worthy to [illeg.] such a Valentine. During the first part of the evening he spared himself, but in this [illeg.] scene he put forth some of his greatest efforts, and stirred [illeg.[ several times to [illeg…] of enthusiasm. [Illeg.], conception, and [illeg.] were [illeg.] admirable; and the high merit of the performance was not in detached passages, but [illeg.] through the whole Act,—the love passages [illeg.] tender, and the passion and despair [illeg.] separation portrayed with splendid force. The Marquise de Valois of Mme. Maresi was not open to any [illeg.]; except that it was totally [illeg.] The Nevers of Del Puente was very [illeg.] indeed.”

9)
Review: New York Sun, 11 November 1873, 1.
“Had any doubt remained as to the competency of M. Strakosch’s Italian Opera Company, it must have been dispelled by the performance of ‘Les Huguenots’ last evening. An admirable representation of this grand work was then given by a cast which deserves to be commemorated. [Lists cast with roles.]
 
The small parts were allotted to singers who did their work without errors. The chorus was strong, and sung for the most part with precision and spirit. The orchestra was well united, and with the chorus was held with a firm hand, and guided with excellent judgment by Signor Muzio. Even the incidental dances were performed in a way to suggest at least grace and harmony of motion, which isa [sic] great advance as compared with the exhibitions of this kind heretofore seen at the Academy of Music under similar circumstances. Many of the costumes were handsome, and the stage was in the main well dressed.
 
Madame Nilsson has done nothing here better than her work of last evening. The part of Valentina is excellently suited to her own characteristics. She easily grasps and readily sympathizes with it. She seemed to be filled with the spirit and feeling of this unfortunate lady, and impersonated her chastely, beautifully, powerfully. Her acting rose to a grand tragic climax in the last scene of the last act but one. Her whole embodiment was well considered, well formed, conscientiously and altogether admirably presented. After the scene mentioned above, in which she and Signor Campanini were well matched, and seemed to emulate and stimulate each other, both were called before the curtain three times. Indeed, the excitement to which the large audience was wrought could not be restrained till the end of the scene, but burst forth from time to time in such a manner as to almost interrupt the representation. In sharing this honor Signor Campanini received no more than his due; for his part was exceedingly well done throughout. So was that of Miss Cary, who sang charmingly, acted tastefully, and looked altogether too winning for a page.
 
Signori Maurel and Del Puente left nothing to be desired in what they undertook to do. Signor Nannetti did well as far as he went, but his voice lacks weight in the lower tones, consequently he could not give to the music set down for Marcello its fullest effect. Mlle. Maresi was entitled to honorable mention also. Indeed, as we have intimated, the whole representation was uncommonly well proportioned and well toned. It took clearly defined form as one and a complete work of art. Of course it would be easy to suggest improvements and to it dictate small faults. But we do not demand or expect impossibilities. Remembering that this was the first representation by this company of this very difficult work, remembering also all that has been done by the management thus far, we can but congratulate it upon so great a measure of success and feel that this community will consult its own honor and its own interest by seconding the Messrs. Strakosch’s [sic] efforts with a hearty and liberal support.”
10)
Review: New York Post, 11 November 1873, 2.
“In the colossal works of Meyerbeer the student of music will find the very highest phase of the development of the lyric art. ‘Robert,’ the ‘Prophete,’ ‘L’Africaine’ and the ‘Huguenots,’ all show that that composer sought to call to his art every known element in musical science and in the kindred art of dramatic representation. He has availed himself not only of the resources of technical knowledge, in the most intricate combinations of harmonic sounds, and of the grace of melody both delicate and resonant, but he has called to his aid history, the ballet, scenic decorations and dramatic force. The result is a series of the most stupendous lyric works that the world has ever seen.
 
Yet at times these great productions appear over-weighted. It is so with the ‘Huguenots.’ The first two and a part of the third acts often seem heavy, and with their long recitatives, unrelieved by melody, drag wearily along. Such was the case at the Academy of Music last night, where this great opera was given by the Strakosch troupe with a completeness and finish which make its performance a memorable one. [Lists cast.]
 
In its principal features this cast was in every way a remarkable one. It introduced Madame Nilsson in an entirely new part, and one in which we hasten to say she has made perhaps the most notable triumph of her brilliant career. It is generally conceded that a prima donna who can succeed as Valentina has scaled the topmost heights of lyric art. In this part several noble artists have met with defeat. Adelina Patti, though one of the most versatile as well as most brilliantly endowed of living singers, found that Valentina was at certain points beyond her scope.
 
As Meyerbeer in the ‘Huguenots’ makes dramatic consistency paramount over mere musical interest, the rôle of Valentina is one which only gradually discloses its beauties. It does not flash at once upon the senses with the showy aria di sortita with which the Italian composers trot out the favorite singer of the evening. It is, at first, quite as subordinate to that of the Queen as Valentina herself was in rank to Margaret of Valois. It is not until the tender duet with Marcel that it can attract much attention. It was here that Nilsson, with the rich, low tones she now introduces so freely and so effectively, made her first impression. From that point she continued to concentrate attention towards herself until the grand climax of the fourth act, wherein, with Campanini, she created such a sensation that she, with the tenor, was called four times before the curtain. It was not only her singing which awakened this enthusiasm. Her acting was superb, and the wonderful duet with which the act closes formed one of the noblest expressions of lyric art known to the modern stage.
 
Madame Nilsson is to be congratulated on this very successful assumption of a new and trying part. Signor Campanini had already passed through this ordeal, for his Raoul has received the verdict of a London audience, in the theatres where Meyerbeer’s great works are produced to the best possible advantage. Campanini is a Raoul of the highest order. There is an intelligence and spirit in this personation, which places it far above anything else he has done here. In the duel septet where he runs up to the high B his voice was clear, firm and distinct, and always in tune. This is always a great charm in Campanini’s singing. He always accomplishes what he undertakes, and this, too, without awakening any doubts as to his ability to meet the crisis. In the high, sustained notes of the duet with Valentine in the fourth act, his voice was true and penetrating yet always musical; and his action was graceful and appropriate. We have had here tenors who, as Raoul, have shown more fire, and risen to impassioned moments of greater force; but none have given us a more finished, manly and elegant interpretation of a part in which the greatest tenors in the records of opera have sought to shine.
 
Nanetti [sic], whose make-up was excellent, gave a careful and satisfactory rendering of the music of Marcel. The ‘piff-paff’ song was in the best range of his voice, and was warmly applauded.
 
Miss Cary, Marcel, Maurel and Del Puente all sang their parts with ability and skill, and shared in the applause which was liberally bestowed throughout the evening. To the chorus exception might be taken in several points; but otherwise the performance was a remarkable one, and the triumph of Nilsson and Campanini in the most difficult of lyric assumptions will long be remembered by the opera-goer who was fortunate enough to have been present last night.”
11)
Review: New-York Times, 11 November 1873, 5.

“The representation of ‘Gli Ugonotti’ at the Academy of Music, last evening, offered the strongest proof yet afforded of the strength of the company formed at the outset of the present season. Few managers care to cope with the difficulties of Meyerbeer’s admirable work, and when they venture upon its performance the results seldom correspond with the excellence of the intention. Although ‘Gli Ugonotti’ is not nearly so well known in this country as in France and England, the frequenters of the opera do not require much information as to the nature and magnitude of those difficulties. Written for the Académie Royale de Musique, and brought out at a period at which no outlay of time and money was thought too great to insure [sic] a perfect interpretation, ‘Gli Ugonotti’ makes immense demands upon the resources of an impresario. No less than seven artists of the first order are needed for the principal rôles, and these artists must be possessed not merely of voice and culture, but of uncommon histrionic talent. The choral and orchestral departments are more heavily taxed by the music of ‘Gli Ugonotti’ than by that of any other modern works, and ought to be unusually numerous. Scenery combining historic accuracy with picturesqueness is wanted, and provision is made for an amount of pageantry which no Italian composer, wisely or unwisely, ever counted upon. But the requirements that the performers should be conspicuously good as singers and actors are, after all, most stringent, and compliance with these necessities of ‘Gli Ugonotti’—the best known out of France, where the score is never rendered in its entirety—is really most to be considered. With the methods of production of an author the public has nothing to do, and hence we will not go over the ground so often traversed in discussions as to whether Meyerbeer’s achievements in general, and whether ‘Gli Ugonotti’ in particular, were the offspring of patient labor, or of a succession of happy inspirations. That they result from calculation rather than from genius does not seem doubtful, but when the strains of ‘Gli Ugonotti’ are as captivating, and its concerted passages as forceful, as if written a year ago, while the efforts of contemporary composers pale before the later glory of Gounod and Wagner, it is worth debating whether talent is not more to be prized than genius. And how lavishly Meyerbeer has illustrated the highly dramatic story with which Scribe provided him the reader will admit. First comes the delicate romance in which Raoul, to a delicious accompaniment intended for delivery by the viole d’amour, describes his vision. Following directly, and contrasting with the bright and courtly music of the banquet-board, is heard the sever Lutheran chant of the Huguenot Marcello, and the weirdly accompanied song of menace to the priests. The sombreness [sic] of this scene is quickly dispelled by the light aria d’entrata of the page Urbano, soon after which the act closes. In the second act are gathered the graceful introductory air of Margurita, the melodious chorus by the brookside, the merry song of Urbano, the duet between Margarita and Raoul, and the last incidents, during which the determined utterances of the Catholic noblemen, the plaints of Valentina, and the accusations of Raoul, while perfectly distinct in themselves, are blended with consummate art into a superb finale. In act the third the same skilled distribution of light and shade is to be observed. Concerted passages, in which deep religious feeling and a festal spirit are alternately expressed, precede the superb duet between Valentina and Marcello, which is colored with equal breadth of touch and command of effect; and further on are the impulsive septet, the meeting of the Catholics and Huguenots—one of those remarkable scenes of confusion regulated, if we may use the word, with the utmost nicety—and the gay themes and sparkling instrumentation attending the departure of the nuptial cortége. The fourth act would suffice to make ‘Gli Ugonotti’ immortal. There are no ‘points’ to dwell upon, for it must be regarded in its completeness. The splendid treatment of the conspiracy scene cannot be declared outdone by the grandiose ‘Benediction of the Swords;’ and although it appears hardly possible that anything but an anti-climax should be looked for in the subsequent proceedings, Meyerbeer has contrived to rivet attention, and to fitly terminate with the matchless duo between Raoul and Valentina. The field has been left almost wholly to the playwright in the last act, the musician showing himself more intent upon preserving the symmetry of the drama than upon self assertion. There is in it, notwithstanding its slighter holder upon an audience, testimony as to clearness in the appreciation of effect, and the same careful writing discernible at previous stages of the story, and it is only because of the hurry and din of the action that it escapes prominence. If we look as we have done, but at the numbers of the score, it will be plain that a record of the success of yesterday’s recital implies something more than a like mention in relation to most elements of the répertoire. From a musical and dramatic stand-point, ‘Gli Ugonotti’ was last night very finely rendered. Mme. Nilsson essayed herself in Valentina, a character she had never assumed, and Mr. Strakosch’s company divided among itself the remaining rôles. We should not like to proclaim Valentina one of Mme. Nilsson’s best parts, but in the fourth act her duet with Raoul will unquestionably rank with her most impressive efforts. The lady’s interpretation of the earlier duo with Marcello was, of course, not to be slighted; it was, however, in the trying situation when the daughter of St. Bris is face to face with the Huguenot nobleman, that her art as an actress was especially conspicuous. Mme. Nilsson’s performance throughout this portion of ‘Gli Ugonotti’ was very eloquent in respect alike of song, facial expression, and attitude. Her Valentina has less tragic grandeur than most prima donnas invest the personage with, but it is an impersonation consistent, touching, and, where the events command, powerful in no ordinary degree. Signor Campanini’s portrayal of Raoul is, on the other hand, to be cited as the most striking he has yet accomplished. From his début, Signor Campanini’s ownership of a delicious voice, and his mastery of a method becoming rarer from day to day, were recognized. Since his appearance the tenor has continually advanced in the favor of the public, and it is pleasant to note that the fulfillment of his freshest task is likely to add largely to his laurels. Signor Campanini, last evening, first elicited applause by his tasteful rendering of ‘Più bianca.’ Afterwards he sang with much sentiment and grace in the duet ‘Beltà divin,’ and, later on, the beauty of his tones was marked in the ever-welcome septet. Signor Campanini’s triumph was won in the fourth act. Acting more varied than that of Raoul, yesterday, cannot well be imagined; and in the difficult duo with Valentina, singing fraught with the charm of a voice so exquisite, and distinguished in the same measure by the artist’s style, has not been listened to here in our recollection. Signor Campnini and Mme. Nilsson were called before the curtain four times after the act was ended. The other characters, as hinted already, were worthy of association with the Raoul and Valentina. No contralto can give with more sweetness ‘Nobil donna’ and ‘No, no, no, no,’ than Miss Cary, who, as Urbano, was loudly applauded after each of these tuneful pieces. Mlle. Maresi recited the florid music of Margarita with ease, and to general acceptance. Signor Nannetti, although Marcello’s notes are rather low for him, pictured the old solider very cleverly in the matter of looks, and sang ‘Finita è pei frati’ well, and his share of the duo in the third act quite finely. M. Maurel bestowed their fullest significance upon the lines of St. Bris, whose recitatives he declaimed as only an artist pur sang can do, and Signor Del Puente lent his agreeable voice and comely presence to De Nevers. We would gladly enter upon a mere lengthened review of the representation, had it not concluded at midnight. We have to say, though, before finishing, that the work of orchestra and chorus was extremely satisfactory, and that the stage-setting was more than creditable. ‘Gli Ugonotti’ will be repeated on Wednesday, and we reserve until then further comments, which the lateness of the hour precludes us now from offering.”

12)
Review: New York Herald, 11 November 1873, 7.
“The climax of the Strakosch season of Italian opera was reached last evening in the production of the Titan of the lyric répertoire, the immortal work of Meyerbeer, ‘The Huguenots.’ Whenever this opera is brought out during a season it can result only in great success of disastrous failure. It is the bête noire of mediocre companies and the chef d’œuvre of great ones. It proved the latter last evening. There is no medium in the representation of the opera; it is either very well done or it is a fiasco. The Strakosch troupe in it proved what we have always accorded to that organization, a smoothness and completeness of ensemble, with a few artists of transcendent abilities. The unavoidable postponement of the opera on Friday evening last did not contribute towards increasing the audience. Yet the house filled up to even managerial expectations by the middle of the second act. Whatever may be the anticipations of the disciples of the new school of lyric and orchestral composition, nothing can be found among the vaunted works of Wagner to compare with this colossal creation of the French stage, for it is essentially French in its grand dramatic effects. Alas for that school now! It is handed over to opéra bouffe, or, what is worse, the puerile inanities of the President of the Conservatoire. Its greatest living representative is in London, quarrelling with music publishers and managers for what is due to him for his numerous works.
 
A gloomy, rugged work is Meyerbeer’s picture of the massacre of St. Bartholomew, a tragedy little understood as to its origin and misrepresented by more historians than one. It was the most ambitious effort of the composer’s life, for in it he exhausted all the vocal and instrumental resources at his command. But it is unrelieved by one ray of sunshine in it stern, massive proportions, and like the great chain of choruses in ‘Israel in Egypt,’ or the towering grandeur of ‘The Messiah,’ the music never descends from the empyrean heights to which the genius of the composer elevated it. There is not even the slightest flavoring of the ‘La ci Darem,’ or ‘La Donna e Mobile,’ spirit in the music. The love scene between Valentine and Raoul, passionate and tender though it be, is overshadowed with the gloom of the impending tragedy which the cruel daughter of the Medici had prepared for the Huguenots. The history of the opera, since its first production at the Grand Opera, Paris, has been a checkered one. It followed close after the weird music of ‘Robert le Diable,’ and the Parisians could not appreciate its gloomy grandeur to the extent they admired its predecessor. The only artist in the original cast that created a marked sensation was Levasseur, for whom the rôle of Marcel was written. In London it met with better fortune in a German form, under the management of the renowned basso, Staudigi, whose Marcel has never been surpassed, and has been equalled [sic] only by one artist, Carl Formes. The Valentine of Madame Heinfetter, the Raoul of Titachek and the magnificent chorus and orchestra under Lachner’s direction have never been excelled since that memorable season at Covent Garden. The opposition of the Italian artists against the opera on the occasion of its first production in Italian in London, in 1849, is an interesting episode in the history of the lyric drama. But even the leader of the opposition, Signor Mario, was won over by the grandeur of the rôle of Raoul, and in it he gained the highest pinnacle of art. The rôle of the daughter of St. Bris has found great representatives in Mme. Cinti Damoureaux (the original), Heinefetter, Viardot Garcia, Grisi, Titiens, La Grange, Medori and Lucca. Among the artists who have made a great success in the part of the Queen, we find Mlle. Dorus Gras, Frau Lutzer, Mme. Castellan and Mlle. Sessi. The most remarkable Raouls were Nourrit, Roger, Titacheck, Mario, Tamberlik, Mazzoleni and Wachtel. St. Bris has engaged the attention of such artists as Tamburini, Graziani, Belilni, Faure and Santley, and the three great Marcels have been Levasseur, Staugigi and Formes. A remarkable performance of this opera was given many years ago at the Academy of Music under the management of Ullmann. The cast comprised the following artists:—Madame Ponsol, Madame Laborde, Signor Tiberini, Signor Gassier and Herr Formes. The opera was given last evening with the following distribution of characters:—[lists cast with roles].
 
When the instrumental introduction to the opera, the glorious old ‘Eine feste [B]urg is mein Gott,’ with its rich coloring and varied treatment, was heard, the Academy put on a rather unprepossessing appearance, the boxes being mostly empty and the lower part of the house half filled. The inspiring tones of the opening chorus of the guests of the gay Count De Nevers greeted the audience at the rise of the curtain, and gave a favorable idea of the calibre [sic] of the male chorus. Campanini then related his experience of love at first sight in his rescue of Valentine, in the exquisite romanza, ‘Bianca al par,’ not the least of the lyric gems with which the music of Raoul is studded. The fresh, liquid tones, through which shone the warm light of love and expression and over which was the glamour of an artist’s soul, tinged with beauty each delicious phrase. The orchestra, albeit it was rather too exuberant in tone for the singer, gave evidence of severe and frequent rehearsals. Nannetti, as the bluff old soldier, Marcel, here broken in with the Hymn of Luther, ‘Eine feste Burg,’ the stern, grand accents of which contrast so strangely and effectively with the scene of gaiety among the Catholic nobles. The celebrated ‘Pif! paf!’ of Marcel, in which he denounces the Church of Rome with fanatical zeal, followed. Here the ability of Signor Nannetti to impersonate this rôle, one of the most difficult for a basso in the entire operatic répertoire, was subjected to its severest test. Alas! there is no Marcel, Sarastro or Bertram nowadays like or even within reasonable distance of the Carl Formes of the past, whose voice had the depth of tone that one would associate only with the pedals of a great organ.
 
But although nature has not gifted him with such an immense volume of voice, yet neither nature nor art was niggardly in preparing Signor Nannetti for this arduous rôle. He sang with intelligence and spirit and rolled out the fantastic measures of the ‘Pif! paf!’ with an effect that brought applause. In the subsequent scenes in the opera the success of the new Marcel became assured, and also formed one of the chief features in the representation. There are many Marcels with a larger volume of voice who cannot succeed in keeping in tune, and others who act as if the stern old follower of Calvin were a heavy villain in a melodrama. None of this marred the important rôle last evening.
Miss Cary, in her handsome dress as a page, sang the first cavatina of Urban, ‘Nobil donna e tanto onesta,’ transposed to contralto pitch from the key of B flat to G major. Since the days of Alboni we do not remember a more finished rendering of this lovely cavatina. The purity and flexibility of the voice, the intelligence of the delivery and the coquetry of manner in which the message is communicated to Raoul all bespoke the artist.
 
The glittering court of Queen Margaret of Valois was unveiled in the next act. Mlle. Maresi sang her aria ‘O Vago Enol’ and the succeeding ‘A Questa Voce,’ both of which unite the enamel of Italian sunshine with the light graces of France. Mlle. Maresi is not, seemingly, acquainted with the true method of singing recitatives, but in the florid music of these two airs her light, pleasing voice was heard to advantage. The female chorus—‘Giovin Belta’—better known under its Eng- English [sic] title, ‘the Vale of Rest’—brought out the ladies of the chorus and betrayed considerable weakness of tone. The wonderful talents of Meyerbeer in instrumental accompaniment are shown in the fantastic coloring of this chorus.
 
The cavatina for Urban, ‘No, no,’ composed expressly for Mme. Alboni, was another triumph for Miss Cary. It is one of the happy ideas of the composer in melodic writing and has been long a favorite in the concert hall.
 
The duet between Raoul and Margherita in this act, ‘Belta, Divina Incantatrice,’ was smoothly delivered by the two artists entrusted with it. The finale, one of extreme difficulty for chorus and orchestra, went through with spirit; [sic] too, much so, perhaps, on the part of the instruments. Signor Muzio should endeavor to moderate the ill directed zeal of his band. Strings, brasses and reeds seemed to have entered last evening into a compact to drown all the voices of those on the stage. Either the chorus will have to be doubled or the orchestra will have to be placed under bonds to keep the peace with the singers. The mise en scène in this act, and we might say throughout the entire opera, has attained that venerable age on the boards of the Academy when a change for something fresh and new would not be out of place. The third act opens with the most trying test to which a male chorus can be subjected, the ‘Rataplan’ of the Huguenot soldiers. Sung without accompaniment and demanding elan and spirit, it is an exceptional case in which the voices do not fall a semi-tone below the pitch before the conclusion is reached. Signor Muzio cleverly assisted the chorus by the surreptitious introduction of a cornet in the middle of the ‘Rataplan.’ The consequence was that they did not sing out of time. The duo between Valentine and Marcel was the first opportunity that Mme. Nilsson had for the display of her great talents, and the message of warning to the object of her affection through his faithful servant was a grand lyric triumph.
 
The septet of the duel in this act was remarkable only for the clarion tones of Signor Campanini in the upper regions of the ut de poitrine. The finale ‘Il destin,’ with full chorus, orchestra and military band, betrayed a want of unanimity between all three elements, and the voices were again lost for a time in the fog of instrumentation.
The blessing of the poniards, in the fourth act, was given with unusual effect and brilliancy, as far as the chorus and orchestra were concerned, but the mise en scène and coup d’œil were exceedingly unimpressive. Maurel’s fine barytone voice gave an element of grandeur to the music of St. Bris, and Del Puente shared in a lesser degree the barytone success, as Nevers.
 
The grandest feature of the entire opera followed the ‘Benedizione del Pugnali.’ It was the immortal duo of Valentine and Raoul, and in it Mme. Christine Nilsson and Signor Campanini rose to a degree of lyric greatness such as few artists have ever achieved on the American boards. The voice of the prima donna, never wanting in that exquisite timbre that reflects, mirror-like, ever[y] phase of human passion, seemed in this scene to acquire new and startling power. Her surpassing histrionic ability also shone with brighter lustre [sic] than ever. From the moment she rushed forward to prevent Raoul from going to certain death on the eve of the terrible massacre, with the words, ‘O ciel! dove vai tu?’ all through the scene of anguish and unhappy love, until she sank insensible near the window through which Valentine’s lover sprang to meet his fate at the hands of the Medici butchers, the acting and singing of Mme. Nilsson embodied the most thrilling elements of tragedy. The last desperate resource left to her to stay the insensate resolve of Raoul, the declaration, ‘Resta! io t’amo,’ was given with a mingled expression of agony and love, and the words seemed to choke in her throat as she uttered them. Sinking the moment after with shame, she, with the wife of Nevers, on a seat, with the enraptured Raoul at her feet, the tender tones tinged with hopelessness of the lover, ‘Ah! dilla ancor, tu m’ami;’ and her reply, in accents of terror and agony, ‘Ah! l’ora è, con la morte,’ formed an idly of passion such as the lyric stage has seldom witnessed. The voice of the tenor rising with ease to C in alt was full of loving expression, while the crystal-like tones of the Swedish Nightingale breathed a world of suffering and anguish when the ominous death bell broke upon her ear. It was a signal triumph for both artists, and they were called before the curtain six times at its conclusion.
 
The principal success of the opera may, therefore, be attributed to Madame Nilsson and Signor Campanini for their grandeur of voice in this act. The greater part of the performance was smooth rather than remarkable, and as Meyerbeer’s opera has been generally of a motley nature, as represented in this city for years past, the Strakosch troupe may be justly commended for their work last night. The prompter takes an unnecessarily obtrusive part in the performances this season, and one would think he was an additional character in ‘The Huguenots.’ The next representation will be given on Wednesday evening.”
13)
Review: New York Post, 13 November 1873, 2.
“A second performance of ‘Les Huguenots,’ in every way equal to the first, delighted a large audience at the Academy of Music last night, and the performers seemed inspired to exceptional efforts. Most charming was the rendering by Miss Nilsson of the simple phrases in the third act, commencing, ‘Ah! l’ingrato d’offesa mortale,’ although such points rarely receive the recognition they merit.
 
At the close of the magnificent fourth act, she and Signor Campanini raised the audience to a pitch of unequal enthusiasm, and they were twice called out amid a tempest of applause.
 
There is no actress now on the stage who can surpass the dramatic action of Nilsson in this act. Indeed its histrionic merit almost distracts the attention from the musical embodiment of the composer’s ideas.
The cutting short of the stage action at the end of the fifth act is to be regretted; the finale is made too abrupt, and the fine action indicated by the librettist is dwarfed into a mere melodramatic pop and bang, and then the tinkle of the ball which brings down the curtain.”
14)
Advertisement: New-York Times, 13 November 1873, 6.

“The second performance of ‘Gli Ugonotti,’ at the Academy, last evening, passed off to the gratification of a large audience. The earliest representation of Meyerbeer’s admirable work was referred to in this place on Tuesday, and yesterday’s recital only differed from its predecessor by an increase of smoothness. Signor Campanini, who, after conquering his position on the night of his début, has kept on strengthening it ever since, is at his best as Raoul, and Mme. Nilsson, as Valentina, contributes a personation by which, perhaps, the artist will not be so clearly remembered as by her Lucia, her Mignon, or her Violetta, but which nevertheless claims attention as a highly intelligent and dramatic effort. Both performers last night distinguished themselves at the stages of the opera referred to heretofore. Signor Campanini’s pretty romance, delivered with the utmost delicacy, was liberally applauded; in the second act his singing and acting in the duet with Margarita were faultless; in the third he phrased the tenor share of the music following the settimino with an art and a wealth of voice rarely combined. It was, however, in the fourth act that Signor Campanini’s exertions were most forceful. In this portion of the opera, too, Mme. Nilsson, who had already sung with marked expression the exceedingly emotional duet between Valentina and Marcello, in the third act, won her greatest laurels, and the swoon of the heroine and the flight of the Huguenot were followed by three calls before the curtain. Nothing finer than Signor Campanini’s singing in the fourth act of ‘Gli Ugonotti,’ is to be listened to here or abroad. Signor Campanini is, of course, richly endowed by nature, but he has studied with a master of song—Francesco Lamperti, of Milan—and the seed of the maestro has fallen upon no barren soil. There is abundant opportunity for a show of tones and culture in the grand duo in the fourth act of ‘Gli Ugonotti,’ and the tenor, losing none of his changes, displayed in turn the might and the tenderness of his voice; the ability he has to bestow upon each of his notes a ‘linked sweetness long drawn out,’ and a tastefulness in declamation denoting possession of something besides natural gifts. Signor Campanini’s histrionic achievements were on a plane with his vocal triumphs, last evening, and Mme. Nilsson, who recited with unimpeachable purity of style and great significance the music allotted to Valentina, was mainly conspicuous throughout the scenes in St. Bris’ house for acting which, by eloquence of face and gesture, rose to the dignity of tragedy. The other performers in ‘Gli Ugonotti’ were, as on Monday, Mlle. Maresi, Miss Cary, M. Maurel, Signor Nannetti, and Signor Del Puente. Miss Cary interpreted Urbano’s two airs exquisitely, and her associate artists acquitted themselves of their respective tasks in a most creditable manner.”

15)
Review: New York Herald, 13 November 1873, 7.

“The second performance of Meyerbeer’s chef d’œuvre last evening was superior in many respects to the first one. The chorus seemed to be more at ease and the orchestra more lenient toward the voices. The ‘Rataplan’ was given with brilliancy and effect, unmarred by the slightest mistake in tone or tempo. The ‘Blessing of the Poliards’ was another triumph for the chorus and was a gratifying indication of the admirable training this important department received from Signor Muzio, whose exertions are unceasing and discipline severe. The septet of the duel also went better than at the first performance. The triumph of Madame Nilsson and Signor Campanini in the grand duet of the fourth act was greater than before, the entire house being convulsed with applause and excitement such as no artists ever drew forth during any previous season at the Academy of Music. Madame Nilsson has eclipsed all those operatic rôles with which her name has been so long and so intimately associated by the grandeur of her Valentine. The entire scene, from the departure of the murderers on their bloody mission to the frenzied parting of Valentine and Raoul, is of the most thrilling and absorbing nature, and shines the more through the lustre [sic] thrown upon it by two such remarkable interpreters. Our stage has been long a stranger to such a display of lyric genius. The excellence of the ensemble of this company is shown in the fact that they have given the best representation of the most difficult opera of the Italian repertoire that New York opera-goers have witnessed here for nearly twenty years.”