Strakosch Italian Opera: Aida

Event Information

Venue(s):
Academy of Music

Manager / Director:
Max Strakosch

Conductor(s):
Emanuele Muzio
S. Behrens

Event Type:
Opera

Record Information

Status:
Published

Last Updated:
5 March 2025

Performance Date(s) and Time(s)

26 Nov 1873, 8:00 PM
28 Nov 1873, 8:00 PM

Program Details

American premiere (preceding first productions in London and Paris).

Muzio conducted the orchestra and Behrens seems to have run the chorus.

Performers and/or Works Performed

1)
Composer(s): Verdi
Text Author: Ghislanzoni
Participants:  Strakosch Italian Opera Company;  G. [tenor] Boy (role: Messenger);  Annie Louise Cary (role: Amneris);  Italo Campanini (role: Radames);  Romano Nannetti (role: Ramfis);  Victor Maurel (role: Amonasro);  Ostava Torriani (role: Aida);  Evasio Scolara (role: The King)

Citations

1)
Advertisement: New York Herald, 02 November 1873, 5.

“Verdi’s new opera ‘Aida’ will be produced in about a fortnight, though we are told the costumes have not yet arrived.”

2)
Announcement: New York Herald, 14 November 1873, 6.

“The rehearsals of ‘Aida,’ Verdi’s latest work, are going forward with diligent energy at the Academy of Music. It will be brought out by Mr. Strakosch in a week or so. Mlle. Torriani will sustain the title rôle.”

3)
Announcement: New York Herald, 18 November 1873, 7.

“Verdi’s ‘Aida’ will be produced at the Academy of Music on Monday night, with Mlle. Torriani, Miss Cary and Messrs. Campanini, Maurel and Nannetti in the cast.”

4)
Advertisement: New York Herald, 18 November 1873, 9.

Aida will be performed next week “with superb costumes, entirely new scenery, and magnificent appointments, purchased at an outlay of THIRTY (30) THOUSAND DOLLARS by the Director in Europe.”

5)
Advertisement: New-York Times, 18 November 1873, 7.
6)
Advertisement: New York Herald, 21 November 1873, 2.
“Messrs. M. & M. STRAKOSCH, in announcing the first production of the chef d’œuvre of the greatest modern Italian composers, feel pride in being able to present it [Aida] to the American people previous to its performance in London, Paris or St. Petersburg.
 
Written at the command of the Khedive of Egypt, whose Opera house at Cairo was lavishly supplied with everything requisite for immense scenic effects, gorgeous costumes and processions, orchestral and choral combinations, it is but natural that Signor Verdi and Signor Ghislanzoni should have availed themselves to the utmost of such a glorious opportunity. Messrs. Strakosch, recognizing the grandeur and overwhelming success of the work, at once entered into negotiations with the distinguished maestro, and it must be a matter of congratulation to the public of America and to themselves to know that their efforts have been crowned with success.
 
Having secured the sole right of performance of Aida in America, Messrs. Strakosch determined to spare no pains or expense to reproduce it exactly as it was given on the memorable night of its first representation in Cairo and afterwards in Italy. The scenery, costumes, properties and appointments, and even the musical instruments for the band, have been expressly ordered from Italy. The outlay has entailed upon the management an expense of over $30,000, an amount hitherto unknown in America in the production of a single opera. The rehearsals and the selection of artists for the principal roles have for months past enlisted the earnest attention of the distinguished pupil and friend of Verdi, Signor Muzio.
 
The opera will be presented with entirely new scenery by Professor Magnani, of the Royal Theatre, Parma.
 
Dresses, entirely new, by M. Ascoli, of the Fenice Theatre, Venice.
Properties by Messrs. Del Prato and Bocchi, of the Royal Theatre, Parma.
 
Jewelry by Mr. Granger, from Paris.
 
Models of machinery by Mr. Mastellari, from La Scala, Milan, and made by Mr. Dornbach, of the Academy of Music, New York.” Concludes with scene list and cast list.
7)
Announcement: New York Post, 21 November 1873, 2.

“The rehearsals of ‘Aida’ are proceeding so satisfactorily that it is hoped that it will be brought out on Wednesday of next week. In this opera, the production of which will be the most important musical event of the season, Campanini, the tenor, expects to make a very great success. Miss Cary will have a highly dramatic part, and Torriani[,] who has studied the opera in Milan, will be the prima donna. We consider that it is a great honor for any artist to be in the cast which shall first present Verdi’s greatest work to an American public, and the singers in question are to be heartily congratulated. ‘Aïda’ will be the chief attraction of the remaining nights of the season, for the production of ‘Lohengrin’ is understood to be deferred for the present.”

8)
Article: New York Herald, 23 November 1873, 7.
Provides a brief history of the opera. Describes plot and scenery in detail. Indicates number and title of arias and ensembles in each act.
 
“In the general treatment of the composition Verdi has endeavored to rid himself of several of those old conventionalities which have hampered some of his best efforts not less than those of equally powerful and popular composers. He has endeavored to introduce the various melodies upon a less stilted and formal plan, and what we have heard of the opera leads us to think his aspiration has not been unsuccessful. ‘Aïda’ will be produced at the Academy on Monday evening [sic]. The part for the contralto is very strong, but the soprano has opportunities which no prima donna assoluta need despise. The public is warranted in expecting an interesting novelty.”
9)
Advertisement: New-York Times, 23 November 1873, 7.

Notes M. Van Hamme is stage manager.

10)
Announcement: New-York Times, 24 November 1873, 4.

On “Wednesday, ‘Aida’ will be brought out. We shall have more to say hereafter of the promise of this representation. For the present, we must confine ourselves to the statement that ‘Aida’ is Verdi’s latest opera, and that it will be produced on a scale of magnificence never before attained to. Successive recitals of ‘Aida’ will bring Mr. Strakosch’s season to a close.”

11)
Announcement: New-York Times, 25 November 1873, 5.

“‘Aïda’ is to be given at the Academy of Music by Mr. Strakosch’s company to-morrow evening. The occasion will be one of decided interest. ‘Aïda’ is Verdi’s newest work, and indeed, the newest opera successfully sung in Europe. And, as it will be done with new scenery and dresses, as well as by a strong corps of artists, we cannot doubt that it will have a fair exposition. Two years ago, Mr. Strakosch, by producing ‘Mignon,’ won credit for making known the first fresh work listened to in a long while. We trust his latest and far more daring attempt will be as widely approved, and that it will be crowned with complete success.” Lists cast with roles.

12)
Advertisement: New York Herald, 25 November 1873, 2.
13)
Announcement: New York Sun, 25 November 1873, 1.

“To-morrow night ‘Aida’ will be brought out, and with it let us hope the management may redeem the fortunes of the season, to so great an extent influenced by the financial difficulties that have of late troubled our country. The opera will be brought out with greater care, finish, and expenditure than is usually bestowed on the lyric stage in this city, and the cast is one of unusual strength and excellence.”

14)
Announcement: New York Post, 26 November 1873, 2.
“The production of ‘Aïda’ at the Acadmey of Music to-night will be an occasion well calculated to awaken the interest of every music-lover in the city. Since he wrote ‘Ernani,’ many years ago, Verdi has been the most popular of composers with the American opera-going public. His brilliancy and dash seem to accord with our natural tastes and peculiarities.
 
Of Verdi’s earlier operas many have never been sung here, of his later and more masterly compositions we have heard all excepting ‘Simone Boccanegra’ and ‘Don Carlos.’ His pen has not been so busy of late as formerly, and his recent works are marked by an elaborate finish and grandeur of harmonic combinations which we do not find in his earlier works. Whether, in thus trenching on the ground of Meyerbeer and Wagner, he has not sacrificed to some extent that affluence of melody which marks his earlier productions, may be fairly questioned. ‘Aïda’ is constructed in his later style. Its music is broad, grand and massive, but it contains many precious veins of melody, and the first air for tenor, in which the hero of the lyric stage apostrophizes Aïda, is a most delicious instance of this. The soprano also has some very taking passages; but from a cursory examination of the score we should infer that the great merit of ‘Aïda’ lay in its grand choral masses, in the concerted music, and in the superb and elaborate finales.
 
The rehearsals at the Academy of Music have been frequent and thorough. Torriani and Campanini were well up in their parts before they came to this country, but to most of the other performers the opera is new. Muzio, the conductor, has had the advantage of directing the opera at Cairo under Verdi’s personal supervision. We are informed that the scenery which will be used to-night is the finest ever seen at our Academy of Music; and lest this should be construed as, after all, but weak praise, it may be added that it is really worthy the greatest opera houses in the world. The performance to-night, then, will be a decided and important event in the musical history of this metropolis; and Torriani, Cary, Campanini, Maurel, Nannetti, Scolara and Boy are all to be congratulated on enjoying the honor of presenting Verdi’s latest and most elaborate work to an American public.”
15)
Announcement: New York Herald, 26 November 1873, 6.

“The Event of the Operatic Season.—The production of Verdi’s last work, ‘Aïda,’ to-night at the Academy of Music, in advance of London, Paris and St. Petersburg, is an event of no ordinary significance in the history of opera in America. There is a commendable spirit of enterprise and boldness shown by Manager Strakosch in thus presenting one of the most remarkable operas of modern times to the American public before it has been heard in the three great operatic centres [sic] of Europe. The rehearsals have been of the most exacting kind, under the direction of Verdi’s representative, Signor Muzio, and nothing has been omitted to make to-night’s representation equal to those which convulsed Cairo and Milan with excitement. The most popular of modern Italian composers is hardly recognizable in his new dress. There is more thought and dramatic purpose in this work than in all his other operas. Instead of pouring forth melody after melody, as in former years, without any more distinct purpose or design than a mocking bird, the composer here combines his wondrous gifts of song writing with the scientific genius of a Meyerbeer or Wagner. The mise en scène is an exact copy from the La Scala performance, and both chorus and orchestra have been considerably enlarged for the occasion. With the exception of Mme. Nilsson the entire strength of the company is in the cast.”

16)
Advertisement: New York Herald, 26 November 1873, 2.
17)
Advertisement: New-York Times, 27 November 1873, 7.
18)
Review: New-York Times, 27 November 1873, 4.
“Faithful to the promise of his Summer announcements, Mr. Strakosch, last evening, produced ‘Aïda’ at the Academy of Music. Verdi’s latest effort—concerning the antecedents of which we will only say that the opera was written at the request of the Khédive for performance in Cairo, in 1870, and that it has now been represented in America before London or Paris managers have shown enterprise enough to acquaint their audiences with their excellences—was yesterday made known to a very large concourse. The recital passed off with uninterrupted smoothness, and was attended by every indication of success.
 
[Provides plot.]
 
It is a less easy task to speak of Signor Verdi’s music than of Signor Ghislanzoni’s libretto. In the first place, a work of equal importance cannot be disposed of after a few rehearsals. And, in the second place, of the countless achievements of the composer, ‘Aïda’ is that which presents the smallest number of ‘points.’ ‘Aïda’ must, in fact, be viewed in its entirety. It is totally different from Verdi’s familiar productions. ‘Il Ballo in Maschera,’ which marks a different epoch from that typified by ‘Ernani,’ is not nearly so distinct from the writer’s most youthful labors as ‘Aïda’ from its immediate predecessor. Where most of Verdi’s compositions are mainly more or less shapely suites of happy inspirations, ‘Aïda’ is clearly the offspring of an almost Wagnerian system. In the new score there are, of course, passages where in melody and in treatment the author of ‘Il Trovatore’ is readily detected. But in respect of plan, development, and coloring, the influence of the modern theories is clear. ‘Aïda’ is a grand lyrical drama, not likely, perhaps, to rouse the masses to tumultuous demonstrations of enthusiasm, but rich in beauties perceptible at once to the practiced ear, and unfolding themselves with overpowering eloquence to the least gifted listener on a second or third exposition. Loud applause was elicited last night by many portions of ‘Aïda.’ To excite continuous admiration, however, the subject needs a closer acquaintance than one sitting can beget.
 
We shall content ourselves, at present, with briefly noting the salient parts of ‘Aïda,’ and with the hurried review of its rendering to which the late hours at which the representation was concluded limits us. The instrumentation of the opera is delicious. The finales, and especially that of the first act, prove conclusively that Signor Verdi is as skilled as ever in the effective management of the masses, while the distribution of the voices is stamped by an art of which no equally strong evidence had previously been afforded. At the same time the orchestration, while full, is, whenever the situation suggests it, of the most delicate kind. We mentioned the name of Wagner in a foregoing paragraph. The principles of the composer of ‘Tannhäuser’ have certainly had weight with Signor Verdi in the intimate connection he establishes in ‘Aïda’ between the orchestra and the singers. Hence, a far more potent, because more subtle, charm; and hence, also, an obstacle to the popularization—if any one [sic] cares for the short-lived celebrity which tunefulness can confer upon any theme, however vulgar—of most of the numbers of ‘Aïda.’ In spite of the symmetry of the opera, some of its elements impress themselves with special force. The opening romance of the tenor, (‘Celeste Aïda,’) which should be sighed rather than sung, is a better specimen of melodious recitative than of a well-defined air. The duet and trio following are not conspicuous either, nor is the concerted music at the end of the opening scene. The scena ed aria of Aïda, commencing ‘Ritorna vincitor,’ expresses successfully the torment of the woman who must sacrifice either her love or her filial duty, but does not call for further reference. The consecration scene includes the finest music in the act. It begins with a weird invocation to the Goddess Ethà. Then comes two pages of quaint dance-tunes. After them the King invests Radames with the insignia of his rank. The phrase of basso, (‘Nume, custode et vinidce,’) reminiscent of ‘L’Africaine,’ is of the utmost beauty and nobility, and its assignment to the tenor, and afterward to the choral mass, forms one of the most decidedly ‘telling’ passages in the opera. The phrase is followed by a resumption of the strange invocation, the reiteration of which terminates the finale. The second act is ushered in by a chorus of female voices, which are intrusted [sic] with a quaint theme, broken in upon by the utterances of Amneris, who, in a brief and striking chromatic progression, sighs for the return of Radames. Three pages of fanciful and characteristic dance-music precede a repetition of the chorus. The duet between Amneris and Aïda, like the numbers generally, is more dramatic than lyric, although the short allegretto (‘Amore, amore’) is the offspring of something more than cleverness. Next in order is an Egyptian march, with a good rhythm and sufficient character, the spectacular after-incidents of the opera being accompanied by music which the composer has not forgotten to endow with local color, as well as Egyptian local color can be understood nowadays. This further business of this act is carried on to concerted strains. In the third act Aïda sings the best-defined aria in the opera. ‘O cieli azzurri,’ with its soft accompaniment, is conceived and treated after the fashion of Thomas’ ‘Connais-tu le pays?’ which, of course, it does not resemble in melody, though it must be said that three bars of the piece remind us so forcibly of ‘Non ti scordar di me’ that if theft from one’s self were plagiarism we should tax Signor Verdi with at least one offense in that direction. The duet between Amonasro and Aïda is on the plan of foregoing numbers of the sort, but the duet between Aïda and Radames is more fluent and impassioned, and impresses by the beauty of its phrases as well as by shapeliness and the exquisite management of the voices and instruments. In the fourth act are noticeable the duet between Amneris and Radames—a duet replete with vivid contrasts and proportionally dramatic—and the final duo of the condemned lovers, into which, in our thought, Signor Verdi has not breathed the fervor and the triumph which Donizetti, in the last act of ‘Poliuto,’ and, in a slighter degree, Gounod, in the last tableau of ‘Faust,’ have portrayed in notes.
 
Yesterday’s representation was exceedingly good. We shall not attempt to review it with the care we shall gladly bestow upon a second and third rehearsal of ‘Aïda,’ when the demands of the music are less exacting, and the space at our disposal is less limited, but shall cite merely the important incidents of the evening. Signor Campanini as Radames won a genuine triumph, both as a singer and an actor. The young tenor has a voice of which the ‘staying’ quality, so to speak, is simply marvelous, and the uses it with unimpeachable taste and unflagging earnestness. Every piece in ‘Aïda’ found it equal to its requirements. Signor Campanini was not too robust in ‘Celeste Aïda;’ he gave the tenor notes in the elaborate concerted portions of the opera their fullest weight; and in the duet with Aïda in the third act, and again at the close of the work, his exertions, vocal and histrionic, awoke real enthusiasm. M. Maurel personated Amonasro with the mingled dignity and fire the rôle admits of, and found an opportunity to rouse the spectators to tumultuous applause in the duet with Aïda, in the third act, after which, though the curtain did not fall, he was summoned before the lights. Signor Nannetti pictured Ramfis most acceptably in respect of appearance and delivery, and Signor Scolara acquitted himself capably of the duties of the King. Mlle. Torriani was Aïda, and Miss Cary Amneris. Mlle. Torriani was at her best in the duets with Signor Campanini, and her two arias, and especially the air on the banks of the Nile, were so well interpreted as to secure for the lady hearty applause. Miss Cary did ample justice to an exceptionally trying rôle. The audiences of the Academy have long been accustomed to the contralto’s fresh and beautiful tones; but they could scarcely have been aware, until the first night of ‘Aïda,’ that Miss Cary has passion and power as an actress, as well as gifts and culture as a songstress. Her scenes with Aïda were carried on with a clear apprehension of the relative position of the rivals, and she met the exigencies of the different situations until her last words at the tomb of Radames were sung.
 
We have already noted that ‘Aïda’ was thoroughly successful. It was successful as a musical work, and the interpretation afforded great pleasure. We must also record that the stage-setting of the opera was among the most striking features of the entertainment. We do not recall any representation of Italian opera upon which such a wealth of scenery and dresses has been lavished. Every scene in ‘Aida’ has been painted abroad, and there are six, two of which, the second scene of the first act and the final scene, were sets of exceptional elaborateness. Artistically nothing finer could be wished than the reproductions on canvas of the gorgeous temples of Egypt; and, from a spectacular stand-point, nothing could be presented in the way of animated and brilliant tableaux that would outdo the tableaux in ‘Aïda.’ An augmented orchestra, a complete brass band, a small corps de ballet—including a rather undisciplined [illeg.] of Ethiopian juveniles, and some trumpeters of old, who have not yet control of their unwieldy, [illeg.] appropriate instruments—and brand-new dresses for every performer of the two hundred human beings who, in the second act, are gathered at once upon the stage, were beheld during last night’s entertainment. We are very glad that the assemblage, mindful that Mr. Max Strakosch’s industry and liberality enabled them to witness a recital of ‘Aïda’ worthy of any opera-house in Europe, insisted upon the gentleman’s appearance before the curtain after the gorgeous pageant of act the second. Signor Muzio, who has striven diligently to insure [sic] the perfection of the ‘first night’ of ‘Aïda,’ was complimented in a like manner, the artists being recalled regularly after every act.”
19)
Review: New-York Daily Tribune, 27 November 1873, 6.
Begins with some background on the commissioning and premiere of the opera along with a plot synopsis.
 
“It will readily be conceived that the story of which we have sketched an outline abounds in telling situations, strong dramatic contrasts, and opportunities for theatrical display, and they have all been improved to the utmost. Mr. Strakosch procured most of his properties, dresses, and scenery in Italy, copying from the original outfit prepared with some care after authentic antiques. We are assured that they faithfully represent the Egypt of three or four thousand years ago, and we dare say they are much nearer to historical correctness than such things generally are on the stage. However that may be, the magnificence with which this opera has been produced struck everybody with amazement. For once the most extravagant promises of a prospectus have been realized. To say that nothing approaching the splendors of last night’s representation has ever been witnessed at the Academy of Music would be faint and inadequate praise. We do not now remember anything so fine on any New-York stage, except perhaps one or two of Mr. Edwin Booth’s Shakespearean pageants. Certainly there is not now a spectacle so grand to be enjoyed anywhere in this city. Everything about it, from the grand double scene of the Temple and the subterranean vault down to the tunic of the super who clears the stage, is admirable of its kind. There are seven scenes, all of them entirely new, all of them spreading a generous expanse of architectural glories or landscape beauty[,] all of them marvelous achievements of pictorial taste and skill. The multitude of auxiliaries, singers, dancers, bandsmen, soldiers, [and] slaves is almost bewildering, and the richness of their garments is really superb. We never saw an opera before in which neatness and liberality marked every detail down to the very least. The boisterous applause which broke out frequently during the evening, and the cordial recognition of Sig. Muzio and Mr. Strakosch when after much difficulty they were induced to come before the curtain when the principal singers was no doubt stimulated quite as much by the unexpected excellence of the representation of the opera as by the character of the music. The success of ‘Aïda’ is of the most emphatic and demonstrative kind. How far it is a success for Sig. Verdi it is too soon yet to judge. The work is lacking in some of those distinguishing qualities which make the popularity of the ‘Trovatore’ and ‘Traviata.’ It is destitute of clap-trap effects. It contains very few melodies which can be whistled in the streets and ground upon barrel-organs. Yet it seems to us a composition of very high merit, and connoisseurs will regard it as the most interesting if not absolutely the best that Verdi ever wrote. That his style has lately been undergoing a great change everybody knows. The ripening of his scholarship was apparent as far back as 1870 when we had an opportunity to compare his ‘Ballo in Maschera’ with his ‘Trovatore’ written six years earlier. It has since then been very marked, and in ‘Aïda’ must impress the least critical listener. But besides this there is a perceptible modification of his theories of art. The orchestra acquires a much greater importance. The accompaniments gain immensely in richness and variety. And above all the arias and recitatives seem to be constructed on somewhat changed principle, as if the influence of Wagner had made itself felt by the most thoroughly Italian of the Italian composers, and was gradually working a radical change in his taste. If Verdi live[s] to write much longer, we venture to predict that his latest operas will show still more extraordinary progress.
 
‘Aïda’ begins with a short and romantic Prelude played chiefly by the violins, pianissimo, and d[illeg.; does not appear to be “dies”] away in a true Wagnerian phrase as the curtain rises upon the first act. The scene is a grand ball in the palace of Pharoah, which a [illeg.] of the Pyramids and distant palaces through the open colonnade at the back. An introductory dialogue between Radames and Ramfis leads to one of the brightest gems of the opera, the beautiful romanza, ‘Celeste Aïda,’ which Signor Campanini sang with exquisite delicacy and expression. His is followed by a duet between Radames and Amneris and the duet is changed by the entrance of Aïda to a trio,’ Vieni O d[illeg],’ both remarkable alike for tender feeling and for dramatic force, and most admirably constructed. The entrance of the King and his courtiers, priests, attendants, &c., brings us to one of those tremendous ensembles wherein Verdi always excels. The stirring martial stream, ‘Si del mio,’ gives the key to this number, which is wrought up to a magnificent effect. Aïda then has a trying scena, followed by a delightful little cantabile, ‘Numi pieta,’ entirely unlike Verdi’s usual manner, and the scene changes to the interior of the Temple of Ph[illeg.], where Radames is to receive the consecrated arms before setting out upon his expedition. The [illeg.] of this number is a wonderful construction of scene splendors and musical beauty and variety. The weird chorus of the priestess behind the scene and the priests in front, the sacred dance, the impressive duo between Radames and Ramfis, all accord perfectly with the effect of rows of stupendous columns, those of  [illeg.], fumes of incense, and the glitter of gold and glory of scarlet and waite robes. The curtain falls upon the invocation ‘Immen[illeg.] t’invochiami.’ In the second act we have first the Chamber of Amneris, with a female chorus, a comical dance of the little black slaves, a delicious duet for Amneris and Aïda, and a repetition on the marital chorus as the return of the [illeg.] is announced without. The second scene represents one of the gates of Thebes, with the entrance of the army, the King, the victorious general, and the captives, and this was so grandly arranged that it called froth long-continued plaudits. Besides the chorus, ‘Gloria a l’Egitto,’ which was almost smothered by the brass instruments on the stage a march, and a ballet which, like the other two, is both curious and graceful, the most remarkable part of this scene is the prayer for [illeg.] by Amonasro and the other prisoner, against which is contrasted the remonstrance of the priests and the plaintive cry of Aïda. The finale is even stronger than that in the first Act. In Act third we have an exquisite piece of scenery, showing the Nile by moonlight and the temple of Isis on a high rock by the bank, and here occur two grand duets, one between Aïda and Amonasro, the other between Aïda and Radames. In both these, with a great deal that is novel, we have decided [sic] reminiscences of Verdi’s old style, without many of his old faults. The passage in the first duet, becoming ‘La [illeg…]’ will be particularly admired. It is in this [illeg.] that Aïda has her beautiful romanza ‘O cieli azzurri.’ Act Fourth opens with [illeg.] in the [illeg.] serving as a vestibule to the subterranean [illeg.]. After the grand duet between Amneris and Radames, the disgraced general is led away to judgment, and the voices of the priests are heard pronouncing the sentence below. In the last scene [illeg.] the stage is divided into two floors. The upper represents the temple of Pht[illeg], [illeg.] with lights and crowded with priests, priestesses, and people of the court. Below is the dark vault in which Radames has just been imprisoned. The spectacle and the music were here effective [to] the very highest degree, and the curtain fell at last upon the most enthusiastic audience we have seen this season.
 
[Lists cast.]
 
Detailed criticism upon the different performances must be postponed until a more convenient [illeg.]. It is enough to say here that of [illeg…], Campanini and Miss Cary were even better than usual, while the Aïda of Mlle. Torriani and the Ramfis of Sig. Nannetti called for many encomiums.”
20)
Review: New York Herald, 27 November 1873, 7.
“Verdi’s latest work—his Egyptian opera—composed at the instance of Khedive, was produced at the Academy of Music last night for the first time in this country. And for the first time in a long series of years our Italian opera was presented with an effective mise en scène. In all there are seven scenes in the opera and each is perfect in itself. The hall in the palace of the King and the interior of the temple at Memphis are not only excellent pieces of scenic art, but they are architecturally and heiroglyphically [sic] exact. The same remark applies to the scenes of the second act, a hall in the apartments of Amneris, the daughter of the Egyptian king, and the entrance to the city of Thebes. The third act represents the banks of the Nile by starlight, and the painting is as effective as the best work in any of our theatres. The hall in the king’s palace in the last act is exceedingly massive, and the transformation to the temple of the gods, beneath which is the tomb of the lovers, is brilliant in light, color and architectural adornment. The costumes, too, are very fine and historically accurate. All this work, we are told, has been brought from Italy, the models being the same as upon the production of the opera at Cairo and in the Italian cities. As to the opera itself, it is not by any means what is claimed for it—namely, the chef d’œuvre of Verdi—though no one unacquainted with the fact that Verdi is the composer would suspect it to be his work. It is utterly unlike anything he ever did before. No opera now on the stage goes from one extreme to the other more completely. For instance, the close of the second act is a picture so brilliant that the music would be mere noise but for the life and magnificence of the surroundings. The third act, on the other hand, is entirely devoted to the plaints and plans of the lovers and the fatal interposition of Amneris. This act requires the highest art to its adequate interpretation, and the soprano part, on which its success depends, was not adequately filled last night. But the opera itself was a very great success—a success so great that Mr. Strakosch was tumultuously called before the curtain at the close of the second act. Much of this success was due, however, to the scenery, and we think this ought to be a lesson to managers when they produce such great works of the masters as ‘Le Prophète,’ ‘L’Africaine,’ ‘L’Etoile du Nord,’ ‘William Tell,’ ‘La Juive,’ &c., to put them upon the stage with an effective mise en scène.
 
The prelude to the opera, short though it may be, is a key to the new style in which this latest work of Verdi is conceived. The opening phrase for the violins is a portrait of the unhappy Aïda, a slave, where she should be a princess. All through the opera where the heroine appears this phrase occurs, and is an admirable specimen of that realistic writing so successfully inaugurated by Meyerbeer and Berlioz. It is not unlike in spirit the phrase that at the commencement of ‘L’Africaine’ introduces Ines. A short fugue, with the subject taken from the grand march in the second act, is the first surprise for those acquainted with Verdi’s earlier style. Towards the close the style leans towards Wagner. As the curtain went up, disclosing a view of King Pharaoh’s palace at Memphis—after the short interview between the High Priest and the Captain of the Guard, Radamès, represented by Signor Campanini—the first solo for the latter was heard. A fanfare followed each phrase of the preceding recitative as a response to the soldier’s dream of battle. The aria ‘Celeste Aïda’ is remarkable more for the entire novelty of the accompaniment than for melodic beauty. The flute accompanies the voice in thirds and sixths, while the violins come in at every second measure, con sordini. The oboe then takes up the melody, with the tremolo of the flute, producing a singularly pleasing effect. The treatment is changed again to a beautiful figure for the violins. Signor Campanini’s costume and make up as the Egyptian chief was very impressive and historically correct; and the clear, sympathetic tones of his pure Italian voice, which remind one more and more a [sic] each performance of poor Giuglini, gave an emotional and tender rendering of the lover’s apostrophe to the Ethiopian slave. Miss Cary then entered as the representative of the haughty Egyptian princess, Amneris, a character evidently modelled after Meyerbeer’s Selika. A very beautiful theme for the violins accompanied her first greeting of Radamès, and an allegro agitato e presto movement, also for the strings, gave a peculiar coloring to her first passionate expressions of jealousy. This movement is frequently repeated throughout the opera wherever the jealous nature of Amneris is to be delineated. A thoroughly Verdian theme accompanies the Princess’ hypocritical expressions of sympathy for her slave. The first entrance of Aïda in this scene is prefaced by the opening phrase of the introduction given by the clarinet. The trio between Aïda, Amneris and Radamès is very dramatic in expressing vividly the various emotions that agitate the breasts of the three characters. It was not, however, delivered with the intensity of passion and effect that it demanded.
 
The entrance of the King and the High Priest, Ramfis, with a glittering suite, was heralded by a fanfare of trumpets of the most approved Meyerbeer pattern. The first grand chorus of ‘War’ revealed the nervous strength of the composer’s new style and might be mistaken for a waif from Wagner. The King, Signor Scolara, sung [sic] with spirit and effect the aria ‘Su! Del Nilo,’ a melody of a popular order and one that readily found its way into the hearts of the audience. It was repeated again and again by the chorus with a most effective instrumental accompaniment, the figure for the violins resembling the finale of the overture to ‘Tannhaüser’ [sic]. The prima donna, Mlle. Torriani, then had a scene for herself, illustrating the struggle between her love for Redamès and her duty towards her country, expressed by a peculiar and most un-Verdian theme, not unlike the style of Weber. The second part, allegro giusto poco agitato, has a tinge of the second act of ‘Robert’ about it. The address to the gods of her country, ‘Numi, pieta,’ was delivered by Mlle. Torriani with a degree of spirit that none of her previous impersonations of operatic rôles led us to expect. It gave expectations of a finished rending of this trying rôle which were not fulfilled in the subsequent scenes.
 
The second scene, representing the interior of the temple, began with a very quaint theme of an Oriental character, chanted by Mlle. Torriani, and afterwards taken up by the chorus. This subject is presented again in the last scene of the opera. The address of the High Priest, Ramfis (Signor Nannetti) to the gods is framed in a melodic subject of breadth of expression and dignity, which was afterwards taken up by the chorus with a wealth of instrumental effect that is not surpassed even by Meyerbeer in his best moments. The theme brought a reminiscence of Halèvy to the mind. The dance of the priestesses in this scene is one of the happiest efforts of the composer. The instrumentation is very peculiar. The wild, barbaric theme is presented as a trio for three flutes at first, and then a single note for the oboe, repeated at intervals, gives a fantastic coloring to the subject. It is thoroughly original and presents an interesting study for musicians.
 
The female chorus in the commencement of the second act is another surprise, being utterly unlike Verdi’s former style. It is very effective, and, for a wonder—thanks to the exertions of Maestro Muzio—it was given without a flaw, last night. The dance of the little Moorish slaves, which followed, was more calculated to excite laughter than applause, and it might be excised with benefit to future representations.
 
The spirit of Gounod presides over the succeeding scene between Amneris and Aïda, until we come to the words of the latter, ‘Ah! pieta ti prenda del mio dolor,’ where an unmistakable reminiscence of ‘Robert’ is introduced. In the second scene of this act occurs the gem of the entire opera—the grand march of the victorious army entering the city of Thebes. It is as strongly orchestrated as ever Meyerbeer or Wagner would desire, and the effect of the chorus, orchestra and band upon the stage is very grand and impressive. A contretemps occurred in the Fackeltanz measures of the subject given by the trumpets on the stage, and had it not been for the firmness and decision of Muzio a disastrous break might have taken place. M. Maurel, as Amonasro, King of Theiopia, here made his appearance for the first time among the captives that followed the triumphal entry of Radames. He looked and acted to the life rôle of an untamed Bedouin, and his noble barytone [sic] voice and finished school of singing came forth in their brightest light. The best specimen of ensemble writing that can be found in any of Verdi’s works is the sextet for Aïda, Amneris, Radames, Amnasro, Ramfis and the King, assisted by the entire chorus. There is abundance of deep thought and study of the Wagner school, with the essential quality of the composer’s own effective dramatic coloring. A theme à la [sic] Donizetti followed, and the act came to an end in a perfect whirlwind of voices and instruments.
 
The banks of the Nile, in the third act, were apostrophized by the violins, con sordini and a sombre [sic] unison chorus of priests within the temple at the left of the stage. The instrumentation of this act is very novel and startling, and yet subordinate to the demands of the situation. Aïda’s air, ‘O fresche valli,’ is very trying, and it was rather beyond Mme. Torriani’s powers to give it the desired effect. The scene between Aïda and her father was a triumph for Maurel, who sang the Donizettian aria ‘Riverdrai le foreste inbalsamate’ with rare élan and expression. A most beautiful effect is produced by the peculiar monotone of the violins in accompanying Aïda’s appeal to her father. Here was a grand opportunity for a prima donna of genius to achieve a triumph, but Mlle. Torriani missed it. Campanini sung [sic] the stirring theme, ‘Pur ti riveggo,’ with electrical effect, and his voice gave effect to the ‘Nel fiero anelito,’ with its extraordinary but effective accompaniment of trumpets. The entreaties of Aïda to her lover to fly with her form Egypt were accompanied by the oboe, a reminiscence of ‘L’Africaine.’ The concluding trio between Aïda, Radames and Amnasro is of the most stirring description, albeit it is a waif from ‘Il Trovatore.’
 
In the fourth act the composer introduces some of his best dramatic effects, making particularly liberal use of the bass clarionet and cor Anglais to color the utterances of his characters. Amneris’ lamentations and remorse over the cruel fate of Radamès, which her insensate jealousy had brought on him, are clothed in music of the most effective kind, and the refusal of the chieftain to purchase life at the price of forsaking the object of his affection was another grand triumph for Campanini. The scene of the trial is very effective. The solemn accusation by the high priest in the interior of the temple, preceded by the Gregorian like chant of invocation and the ominous words ‘Discolpati!’ ‘Traditor!’ contrasted strangely with the agitation of Amneris, who listened at the gate of the Temple, as did Alice at the demon’s cave in ‘Robert.’ The last scene is a gem and a fitting close to a work of such magnitude. The duet of the lovers in the tomb, while in the gorgeously decorated temple above them is heard the mournful chant of the priests of Isis, the remorseful prayer of the kneeling Amneris, and the brilliant coloring of the instrumentation, all made up a tone picture to be long remembered. The honors of the evening among the principals must be accredited in particular to Campanini, Maurel and Nannetti, who acquitted themselves of the arduous ròles with entire success. Miss Cary sang the music of her part with conscientious care and expression, and her rich contralto voice was shown to advantage. But the rôle of Amneris is as exacting as that of Selika, and every one knows that Meyerbeer’s heroine demands as a representative a prima donna possessing great dramatic talent. Mlle. Torriani’s voice has not the breadth of tone and fulness of dramatic power to fill all the requirements, of such a trying rôle as that of Aïda. To Signor Muzio, for his unwearying [sic] efforts to present the opera in a state of completeness as far as the music was concerned, and to Mr. Strakosch for the lavish manner in which everything connected with the stage appointments was presented, praise is due. With such completeness in every detail it is safe to predict a number of successful performances of this great work, which has been brought out in New York in advance of London, Paris and St. Petersburg.”
21)
Announcement: New-York Times, 28 November 1873, 4.

“‘Aïda’ is to be repeated at the Academy of Music this evening. We can hardly hope for a smoother performance of Verdi’s fine work than was offered Wednesday, but we dare say that the labors of Mr. Strakosch’s artists will, if anything, surpass in effect those of the earliest recital of ‘Aïda.’”

22)
Announcement: New-York Daily Tribune, 28 November 1873, 9.

“For the last days of the season Mr. Strakosch offers a variety of attractions…‘Aida’ will be repeated to-night, and will fill the house again next week. It seems a pity that this brilliant work, whose presentation will long be memorable in the history of our lyric stage for careful preparation and for scenic splendors, could not have been brought forward early enough to enjoy a long run. We cannot doubt that it would prove a highly remunerative attraction of Mr. Strakosch could make arrangements to postpone his departure for Philadelphia. In praising the manner of its performance we should not omit to say that it was given by Mr. Muzio in its integrity on Wednesday, and we trust that this conscientious treatment of the composer will be preserved in. The opera is rather long, lasting from 8 until 11:30; but there is such a quick succession of gorgeous and varied scenes, and of bright and richly colored music that it can never seem tedious.”

23)
Review: New York Sun, 28 November 1873, 2.
“The production of ‘Aïda’ at the Academy Wednesday evening may fairly be considered the musical event of the season; for a new opera is a thing not often vouchsafed in this country. In Italy they bring out forty or fifty in a year—operas written by people whose names are unknown outside of Victor Emanuel’s dominions, and whose works, like the night-blooming cereus, unfold themselves, bloom, and perish between the setting and the rising of the sun. Here it is different. The labor, expense, and trouble involved in the production of a new work are so great that we run on year after year in the old ruts, deeming ourselves happy if we can have one new opera in a twelvemonth.
 
This then is the happy moment, for beyond question Verdi is the first of living Italian composers, and this is his best-considered and most carefully-written work. The composer is no longer in the first flush of his impetuous youth, and does not attack his libretto in the wild and reckless spirit that gave us the fervid melo-dramatic music of ‘Ernani.’ He has been studying up on fugues, reveres the memory of Palestrina, Marcello, and other of the early Italian masters, calls the chord of the diminished seventh, once his mainstay and reliance, a ‘quicksand,’ and no longer looks with favor on anvils as orchestral instruments. He is a reformed Verdi, looking sadly back through the vista of nearly sixty years on the turgid bombast of his youth, desirous of emulating the painstaking work of Meyerbeer—whom he has come to respect and in some degree to imitate—having a care to his instrumentation, and putting into his score serious work.
 
The libretto of the present opera is on the whole a very good one—vastly better than that furnished to Mozart for his Egyptian work, ‘The Magic Flute,’ because more straightforward, consistent, and intelligible.
 
It seems to have had a variety of parents or foster-parents. The story was first framed by Mariette-Bey the learned Egyptian who took so conspicuous a part in the work of preparing the opera for the stage at Cairo. He wrote the story in French prose. M. Camille del Lodi turned it into French verse, and finally Signor Ghislanzoni has written the Italian version, which makes up the present libretto.
 
[Provides plot synopsis. Details the commissioning of the opera and its premiere at Cairo. Provides cast list for this Strakosch production.]
 
The music, as we have suggested, shows a marked change of style in the composer. The frosts of age have diminished his fire, but they have increased his discretion. No one ever denied to Verdi the possession of great dramatic power. Those who failed to yield to him their entire admiration did so because they found him violent in his methods, loud in his effects, lacking equality of style, unable to sustain himself at the heights he sometimes attained, having passion but failing to keep it within bounds, lacking grace and sweetness, being monotonous in his forms, treating his voices with harshness, and rearing up for the stage a generation of shouters instead of singers.
 
Without entering into detail on the subject, it is sufficient to say of the present work that the composer’s earlier traits are here greatly modified. The German school has not been without its influence upon him. He himself has said in one of his published letters, that he had no fear of the music of the future. This means, doubtless, that he has lent a patient hearing to the theories of Wagner and the new school writers, and there can be no doubt that he has admitted the force of some of the truths that they have sought to illustrate.
 
The opera judged as a whole seems to us the finest, most complete, and most finished production that has proceeded from its author’s pen. In it he has raised himself far above his former level and taken his stand, so far as regards the character of his work, by the side of Meyerbeer, adding, however, to his music a warmth to which the colder nature of the German was a stranger. While the whole score bears the marks of painstaking labor, nevertheless, in the climaxes and the finales Verdi has given rein to that dramatic vigor and mastery of contrasted masses of the tone that has been to so great an extent the secret of his power. When the work is carefully examined it will not be found to contain so many of these clear cut and striking arias that have abounded in his former operas. This seems not to have been aimed at by the composer. He has written as Wagner does, not to make a pretty song but to make music that shall express the sentiment of the words. To do this the music must change with the varying sentiment of the words. The aria therefore loses his formal well-defined form, becomes longer drawn out, does not catch the ear so readily or address itself so quickly to the popular favor. But the arias are none the less excellent on this account, rather are they to be listened to with the more attention and respect.
 
There is scattered through the opera a great deal of concerted music, duets, trios, quintettes, and ensemble parts scored for chorus and principals, and two orchestras, one of them upon the stage. Here Verdi bestowed immense labor upon his work, and a care and solicitude that are in striking contrast with the meagreness [sic] of treatment exhibited in many of his earlier productions. Certain of these effects are the grandest that he has as yet conceived, and must certainly contribute to his enduring reputation.
 
As to the manner in which the music was rendered we can hardly say too much in praise of the artists concerned, and where all did their work so well it would be unjust to discriminate. In spite of the novelty of the situations and of the music, the whole opera went with entire smoothness, the chorus as well as the principals being well up to their work. The chief burden fell upon Signor Campnini, Mlle. Torriani, and Miss Cary. All of them have added greatly to their artistic reputations. Mlle. Torriani showed a seriousness of purpose and a breadth of style for which we had not given her credit. The role of Aïda received at her hands an admirable interpretation, both dramatically and vocally.
 
Almost if not fully as much weight fell to the share of Miss Cary, the character of Amneris being scarcely less in length, importance, or difficulty than the title rôle. Miss Cary constantly gains in dramatic power. This is the largest part that has been allotted to her. She filled it with entire success, winning the unequivocal sympathy and appreciation of the audience. The principal male character is that of Radames, sung by Signor Campanini. This artist brought with him to this country a promise of great things in the reputation that he had gathered abroad, and that promise he has made good by his performance in the ‘Huguenots,’ and now, by the powerful impersonation of the character of the Egyptian warrior and lover. Throughout the opera, the character was sustained with intelligence and a manly power that held out perfectly to the end. So robust and sonorous a tenor voice, supported by the earnestness of an enthusiastic temperament and a high degree of dramatic intelligence, combine to make an artist of the first rank. The subordinate parts were excellently rendered by M. Maurel, Signor Nannetti, and Signor Scolara. Among the singers in Mr. Strakosch’s company, who do not thrust themselves upon the public, but who do the share which is allotted to them with conscientious fidelity and modesty, is Signor Nannetti. The character of the chief priest he rendered with great dignity and capacity, and in the concerted music his fine voice and method told with excellent effect.
 
Finally, as to the scenery, it is understating the matter to say that no opera was ever so superbly set upon the stage in this city. There were several scenes that as mere panoramas of the temples and interiors of ancient Egypt were a study. The detail of the great colored pillars was not a meaningless array of hieroglyphics, but the actual transcript of the pillars themselves, set forth with the painted legends of their religion. The Egyptian deities—Phthah, the creative force, to whom one of the choruses is sung; Anubis, the dog-headed, Canopus, Isis, and Osiris—were all there, not after the fancy of the scene painter, but as they actually appear on the ancient monuments. The final scene of the opera was peculiarly effective, the stage being subdivided into an upper and lower half—the former representing the great hall of the temples blazing with light and color, the latter being the dim, subterraneous dungeon of the lovers, dark, gloomy, and sepulchral. The contrast made a wonderful stage picture. All the details of the ballet—the supplementary band on the stage, the crowd of attendants, the ancient musical instruments of the Egyptians, the costumes of the army, priests, and populace, and the distinctive dresses of the Egyptians and the Ethiopians combined to make up a mise-en-scene reflecting the highest credit upon the management.
 
Mr. Strakosch and Signor Muzio were called before the curtain and warmly thanked by the audience, so far as they could manifest appreciation by their hearty applause, for the manner in which the work had been produced. It is the first time in the history of our operatic stage that it has been brought up to the standard of the great opera houses in Europe. And, neither in point of the stage setting or the artistic performance of the work, would comparison between Wednesday evening’s performance and those of the best foreign opera houses be to the disadvantage of the former. The opera will be repeated this evening.”
24)
Review: New York Herald, 28 November 1873, 4.

“A response has at last been vouchsafed to our long and earnest appeals for Italian opera to be presented to the American public as it is given in the principal opera houses of Europe. A reform has taken place of such a sweeping character as to sink into utter insignificance all previous attempts in that line. The first representation of Verdi’s latest work, ‘Aïda,’ on Wednesday night was a complete surprise for all opera habitués in this city. Mr. Strakosch seemed to have gone from the extreme of operatic poverty in regard to the mounting of an opera to the uttermost limits of stage effect, exceeding even the best efforts of our theatrical managers. The seven scenes of the opera presented nothing that has ever been seen before on the boards of the Academy of Music, and they were placed before the public in a manner with which no one can find fault. The costumes and other appointments were equally worthy of commendation, and the general rendering of the music was praiseworthy. The chorus and orchestra did wonders, considering the weakness of those departments for many seasons past, and the conscientious efforts of Signor Muzio were productive of the most satisfactory effect. Altogether the production of this grand work marks a new epoch in Italian opera in this country, and it is but reasonable to expect that it will be a criterion for the future presentation of great works on the lyric stage. Each subsequent performance will prove the correctness of the manager’s judgment and will be an additional triumph to Impresario Strakosch and his unrivalled company. ‘Aïda’ produced a popular sensation on the first night, and to-night it will likely be a greater success.”

25)
Review: New York Post, 28 November 1873, 2.
“The new opera of ‘Aïda’ has been heard, and the verdict is favorable. Both musicians and the general public are enthusiastic in their praise of the new work. ‘Aïda’ is a composition which seems to mark a new phase in the career of its great composer. Through this elaborate masterpiece Verdi has raised himself from the mere melodist and dramatic writer to that plane of musical science where we already find Meyerbeer. ‘Aïda’ is in its way as grand as the ‘Prophete’ or ‘L’Africaine,’ and, built on the same general model as those works, at once suggests comparisons.
 
But, while this superb new opera adds another jewel to the crown of genius, and sheds a grandeur lustre [sic] over a name already illustrious, we do not think it will ever become popular in the sense that Verdi’s earlier operas are. Its melodies are not of the kind that are quickly caught or easily retained in the memory. Its great effects arise from the grouping and massing of voices, from elaborate orchestral treatment, and from the majestic and grandiose style of the movements. Those familiar with Verdi’s earlier operas will recall those numerous simple accompaniments, as unpretending and even trivial as those of the simplest ballads of the day, and will be astonished at the vast change in this respect which is shown in ‘Aïda,’ where the accompaniments are, if anything, overladen with instrumentation, though it is of so delicate a nature that it is at times scarcely perceptible to the ear. This is noticeable in the very first melody in the opera—the Celesta Aida—in which the violins, tremolando at one time and staccato at another, form a delightful accompaniment, but one which is not altogether audible, so lightly is it played by Muzio’s musicians. So, too, in the great concerted finale to the first act there are sweeping, rushing scales for violins (à la Wagner) which cannot be heard at all in the movement and sonorous crash of the vocal masses which Verdi here distributes to the various choruses on stage. A very frequent use is made of syncopation, by aid of which composers have produced very striking effects, and which Verdi uses with excellent skill. In the instrumentation, this [illeg.] presents some utter novelties, and throughout is marked by the utmost care and elaboration. It is a symphony in itself, and even without the vocal parts would be a work of interest and power.
 
The triumph of ‘Aïda’ on Wednesday night was most decided. The first act was received coldly, the second awakened genuine applause, but the third transferred the whole house into a scene of wild enthusiasm. Not only were the principal artists called before the curtain, but Muzio, the conductor, and Strakosch, the impresario, were obliged to appear on the stage.
 
Of the singers who took part in this most interesting production, the principal honors belong to Miss Cary and Signor Campanini. Our favorite contralto took a mezzo-soprano part (Amneris), demanding from her voice notes which even a real soprano would deem high; and she also evinced more dramatic power than in anything else she has done here. In her duet with Aida she was exceptionally fine, and her claim to be
 
—in figlia de’ Farsoni
 
was a splendid piece of musical declamation. Mlle. Torrinai sang the difficult music of Aida with fair ability, and in the third and fourth acts received deserved applause.
 
Having thus given courteous precedence to the ladies, we may turn to the gentlemen of the cast. Campanini was the real hero of the opera. His singing was magnificent throughout, and his thorough familiarity with the part enabled him to throw into his delineation of Radames all the requisite dramatic energy and fire. In his opening aria, and especially in the noble duetts [sic] of the third and fourth acts he was superb, and much of the success of the opera is due to his manly and vigorous singing. Nanetti [sic], as the High Priest, was dignified and effective, and Maurel (as an Ethiopian king) was thoroughly picturesque. We have scarcely room here to speak of the scenery as it deserves. It was simply a revelation in operatic mounting. It was more than had been promised, and surpassed anything of the kind ever seen in this country.”
26)
Review: New York Herald, 29 November 1873, 6.

“The second performance of Verdi’s last and most scientific work drew a very large audience to the Academy of Music last evening. The cast was the same as on the first night and the performance was very much better in many respects. Mlle. Torriani in the third act, in the duets with Amnasro and Radamès, displayed more dramatic power and intensity of expression than her first appearance in the title rôle had led one to expect, and Miss Cary made similar improvement in the part of the jealous Amneris. The blemish of the uncertain tone of the stage trumpets in the grand march of the second act has passed away, and nothing could be more satisfactory than the grand outburst of the entire orchestra, military band, stage trumpets and chorus in the finale, ‘Gloria all’Egitto.’ The judgment scene in the last act, with its weird surroundings, was a complete triumph in point of general effect. Campanini in this opera proves himself the most accomplished and conscientious tenor we have had in this country since the days of Salvi. The sombre [sic] character of the High Priest is admirably represented by Signor Nannetti. With such magnificent mise en scène[,]  well trained chorus and orchestra and effective distribution of the principal rôles, the success of ‘Aïda’ under Mr. Strakosch’s management is assured. The unceasing exertions of Signor Muzio in the orchestra and of Herr Behrens on the stage have borne good fruit, which, it is to be hoped, will prove a financial harvest for the manager, who has dared so much in the cause of true art.”

27)
Review: New York Post, 29 November 1873, 2.
“The second representation of this stupendous work at the Academy of Music last night was largely attended, and, musically speaking, the performance was superior to that of the first night. The brass instruments in the great procession scene of the second act were under better control, and the chorus seemed more confident in its duties. The first act, which at the previous performance seemed rather tame, revealed unexpected beauties. The exquisite aria Numi pietà was received with the applause it deserves. In the second act the majestic massing of harmonies and the striking contrasts of instrumentation seemed to be better appreciated; while the latter acts, with their fluent melodies and noble dramatic effects, enchained the attention of the audience. Campanini was in excellent voice, and revelled [sic] among the high A’s and B’s with which his music abounds. Mlle. Torriani sang with conscientious care, and Miss Cary, as on the first night, commanded the hearty admiration of the house. Signor Nannetti finds in Ramfis a part well suited to his majestic voice and style, and in the trial scene, creates a marked effect. Indeed, few operas contain greater effects produced by more simple means. The stage represents a hall in the king’s palace, to the left of which is a doorway leading to the subterranean hall of judgment. From this dark recess Amneris, the Egyptian princess in love with Radames, hears the judges pronouncing his doom. Then does the high priest, Ramfis, call the name of Radames, charging him with betraying the secrets of his country to the foreigner. He calls upon him to explain himself. A distant chorus of men’s voices repeats the summons. Radames is silent and the judges brand him as a traitor. Three times—each time in a higher key—Ramfis charges Radames with his crimes, and three times the mysterious chorus convicts him as a traitor. In this striking scene Signor Nannetti’s voice is heard to excellent advantage. Indeed, throughout the entire opera he is so satisfactory that the listener is apt to regret the fact that Verdi did not allot an aria to this well-constructed character.
 
We cannot speak too highly in praise of the scenery of ‘Aïda.’ Every set is unexceptionable. The great hall with the golden statue of ‘Immenso [illeg.] [remainder of paragraph illegible].
 
[Beginning of paragraph partly illegible.] …remark the unusual fact that [illeg.] opera is given entire, note for note, as the composer wrote it. There are no omissions of any kind. The great work is attacked boldly [illeg.] fairly, and its success is commensurate with the courage shown in undertaking it.”
28)
Review: New-York Times, 29 November 1873, 7.

“The second performance of Verdi’s newest opera, which took place at the Academy of Music last evening, confirmed the favorable opinion of the opera which grew out of Wednesday’s recital. ‘Aïda’ is an admirable work, provided with a capital scenario, in which the master-passions are skillfully portrayed and contrasted; full of music always expressive, suggestive or illustrative; and bearing evidences in the writing of a taste and science rarely discernible in the achievements of most Italian composers. Signor Ghislanzoni has supplied a clever libretto, and Signor Verdi has set the words to music instead of doing the reverse. The result is a lyric drama of unquestionable power. The listener may not carry home a single tune from the score of ‘Aïda,’ but he will certainly leave the theatre with an impression such as no succession of ballads can produce. The representation Mr. Strakosch’s company offers is so good as to make this impression almost as deep as could be desired. We say almost, because, in our judgment, Mlle. Torriani is not quite equal to the exigencies of the rôle of Aïda. Mlle. Torriani, it must be said, was vocally not at her best during yesterday’s recital. But it is clear that under the most advantageous circumstances she is not the ideal Ethiopian captive. The upper notes of the soprano are excellent, but the medium tones are bad, and the result of a transition from a head to a chest sound is utterly wanting in the eloquence with which an organ like that of Mme. Lucca endows a similar passage. Then, too, Mlle. Torriani is rather deficient in fiato—to use an Italian term, for which there is no exact equivalent—and she has little breadth of style. It is not a pleasant duty to write thus of an intelligent and industrious young performer, but the task is one which cannot well be avoided. Had Signor Campanini had the co-operation of Mme. Nilsson in ‘Aïda,’ the effect of the duets in the third and fourth acts would have been literally unprecedented. As it is Mlle. Torriani is to be credited with an earnest and really telling performance, which, on account of the heartiness of the songstress, is rewarded by considerable applause. The honors of the representation, however, are mainly for Signor Campanini and Miss Cary. ‘Celeste Aïda’ is a pretty romance, but it is interpreted at so early a stage of events as to be nearly missed in the confusion of an audience settling to the enjoyment of an evening’s entertainment. Signor Campanini’s share in the first two acts is thereafter limited to participation in concerted music, but in the last two he has abundant opportunity for the display of a voice which we cannot easily imagine excelled in point of range, quality, or trustworthiness. Furthermore, the tenor uses his voice skillfully, and acts in a manner betokening intellect and experience not frequently noticeable among singers. Hence we fancy we are not in error when we say that we do not think a more excellent representative of Radames can be gotten than Signor Campanini. Last night, he rendered with infinite variety of expression the duet with Aïda in the third act, the allegretto and final ensemble being repeatedly interrupted by applause; and he endowed the closing duo, after which Aïda sinks to rest in his arms, with as much charm and passion as could be thrown into that deliciously accompanied portion of the opera. Miss Cary, whose personation of Amneris has raised her far above the plane to which a majority of the contralto-characters confine an artist, once more surprised the audience by an exhibition of dramatic strength scarcely looked for. No one need be told that Miss Cary is gifted with an exquisite voice, and that her method is unimpeachable, but many of her admirers might have questioned the prudence of assuming a character exacting an actress as well as a vocalist. Wednesday and last evening Miss Cary fully proved her fitness for the part by a declamation which bestowed on every phrase of the inquisitorial duet in the first act with Aïda its whole significance; which made the proud defiance of ‘the daughter of the Pharaohs,’ in the duo in the second act, so forcible as to cause the listeners to break out in applause, and which colored suitably the third-act duo with Radames, wherein love and hatred, tenderness and anger, fury and remorse are pictured in strains of unmistakable meaning. M. Maurel’s personation of Amonasro only suggests a repetition of an opinion already printed. M. Maurel is first among Mr. Strakosch’s artists, for his performances are altogether hors ligne. Yesterday, as Wednesday, the brief recitative in which he narrates with great dignity the story of his share in the defense of his country, and, subsequently, in a melodious and touching phrase, appeals to the clemency of the victorious monarch on behalf of his fellow-captive was delivered to perfection, while his acting and singing in the duet with Aïda in the third act brought about a recall which had to be acknowledged before the representation proceeded. As heretofore, Signor Nannetti was an adequate representative of Ramfis, and Signor Scolara acquitted himself efficiently of his regal charges. The performers were summoned before the footlights after every act, and appreciation of the superb mise en scène—never paralleled, in our recollection, in the matter of artistic merit or brilliancy—was evinced by numerous demonstrations of delight.”

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Review: New-York Daily Tribune, 29 November 1873, 4.
“The second performance of ‘Aida’ was better in some few points than the first, and although it did not call forth the same vigorous expression of surprise and delight which abounded on Wednesday evening, it was watched with unflagging interest and pleasure by a crowded house. The intermissions have been somewhat shortened, so that the curtain falls at 11 o’clock. The action has gained a little in smoothness, and the concerted numbers have been generally improved, while the principal singers, as they become more familiar with their parts, make a better and better impression. The Aida of Mlle. Torriani is indeed rather weak in certain trying passages; but the young lady sings with great taste, intelligence, and feeling, and in the superb third [sic] Act, which constitutes the finest part of the opera, she was admirable. She has three remarkable numbers here, which follow one another without pause—the charming romanza ‘O cieli azzurri,’ the duet with Amonasro, marked by such strongly contrasted emotions, and the duet with Radames, in which Verdi’s old melodramatic style alternates so forcibly with his new and nobler method; and if she did not make of these three glorious opportunities all that the score allowed, she seemed at least fully sensible of the elevated character of the music, and put forth all her strength, with a very creditable result. In the last scene of the fourth Act her duet with Radames was as tender and as neat as the most exacting critic would have it. Miss Cary has in Amneris a role not less important than that of Aida, and it can truly be said that she surprises her best friends by the force of its interpretation. She has made a wonderful progress in her profession during the past two years, and we now realize that she adds to a beautiful, sympathetic voice and a simple and beautiful style, a high order of dramatic talent. She is young, earnest, and richly gifted; her studies have been well directed, and there seems to be a brilliant career before her. Her Amneris is unexceptionable in every point of view, and gives her a position considerably in advance of any she has taken before. Sig. Campanini makes a pleasant impression in the first part of the opera by his singing of the delicious romanza, ‘Celeste Aida,’ which he gives with a beautifully soft expression and that ardent feeling which he knows so well how to throw into music of this character. It is in the third Act [sic], however that he exhibits his best powers. His duet with Aida, ‘Pur ti riveggo,’ and his share in the finale are in his most spirited manner, and in the death scene he gives one of the best illustrations of his skill in cantabile passages that he has yet afforded us. We need hardly add that he bears himself gallantly all through the evening. M. Maurel has but one really important number, and that is the duet with Aida, ‘Rivedrai le foreste,’ of which we have already spoken. It is perhaps the most perfectly artistic performance to be seen in the whole work. Sig. Nannetti’s mellow and well trained voice does justice to the music of the high Priest Ramfis, and his manner is appropriately dignified and venerable. We cannot praise the chorus as freely as we have praised the principals, nor is Sig. Muzio always successful in establishing a good understanding between the orchestra and the singers; yet the representation as a whole deserves cordial praise not only for the spectacular splendors, to which we did justice the other day, but for the care which has evidently been taken to give an accurate interpretation of the music.
 
The opera is well worth all the pains that can be spent upon it. A second hearing confirms our first opinion that it shows a remarkable advance over Verdi’s previous writings. It is not a mere succession of formal arias, and trios, and strenuous finales. It is an elaborate dramatic structure, in which voices, instruments, action, and accessories are made to coöperate [sic] in the general effect after a fashion which the composer of ‘Ernani’ has never attempted before. On rare occasions, not more than once or twice, if we remember right, in the whole opera, he reverts to his old vulgar device of straining the voice against a full brass accompaniment, with trumpets and trombones in unison with the singer. As a rule his accompaniments now are surprisingly rich, varied, and eloquent, deserving quite as much study as the vocal score. He uses the strings much more freely and vigorously than he used to, and keeps the brass in better subjection. Like Wagner, he delights in giving a picturesque prominence to the reeds. These are well handled by Sig. Muzio’s players, but his band is not strong enough in violins. The construction of the vocal parts shows progress quite as much as the instrumental score. The difficult terzetto in the first act, ‘Vieni o diletta,’ (which does not go very well yet) is not only a brilliant piece of dramatic writing but a fine specimen of ingenious counterpoint. The two duets in the third Act, despite their momentary lapses into the old style, are conceived in a most scholarly spirit; all the music allotted to Amneris abounds in little fragments of delicate beauty, deftly woven into the texture; and that assigned to Aida is generally in a lofty vein. Yet, as we have said before, it is clear that Verdi has not finally fixed his principles of art. At the age of 60, his style is still developing, and his next opera will probably be something still in advance of this one.”
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Review: New York Clipper, 06 December 1873, 286.

Part of the “Introductory Overture” section. “People who went to the Academy of Music to see the new opera, ‘Aida,’ were taken completely by surprise when the curtain went up, and came to the conclusion that they had got into some other house. Their surprise and temporary insanity was owing to the fact that some new scenery was set before them, which was so at variance with the custom of the Academy that for a moment the habitues were dumbfounded. But let our opera-going friends restrain their tears—the old and familiar sets, though lost to sight, are too dear to the Academy management to be sold to old junk-dealers. Ah, no; they will come forth anon, in all their ancient dust and dirt, and will be made to do duty for many a year to come.”

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Review: New York Clipper, 06 December 1873, 286.
“‘Aida’ (‘The Ethiopian Slave’), Verdi’s last opera…was produced for the first time in America on Wednesday…in advance of its representation in either London or Paris. Every scene in the opera, six in number, had been painted abroad by Prof. Magnani of the Royal Theatre, Parma, Italy. The second scene in the first act and the final scene were very elaborate, and masterpieces of distemper painting. The tableaux were skillfully and artistically arranged, and in the second act two hundred persons were gathered upon the stage at one time. All the costumes were new, having been made by M. Ascoli of the Venice Theatre, Venice. New properties had been prepared by Messrs. Del Prato and Boechi of the Royal Theatre, Parma; jewelry manufactured by M. Granger of Paris; and models of the machinery were furnished by Mr. Mastellari of La Scala, Milan, from which Mr. Dornbach of the Academy prepared that need in the opera. An Augmented orchestra, a complete brass band, a small corps de ballet, a force of Ethiopian juveniles, and some trumpeters were added to the regular forces. The entire work was produced under the immediate supervision of Sig. Emanuel Murzio [sic], aided by M. Van Hamme as stage-manager. [Lists cast, gives plot.]
 
The opera is a composition of great merit, and free from any sensational effects. It contains very few melodies that will be whistled in the streets. ‘Celeste Aida,’ a romanza in the first act, was exquisitely rendered by Sig. Campanini. Shortly thereafter a duet between Radames and Amneris, which, with the entrance of Aida, changes into a trio, ‘Vieni O diletta,’ was received with marked favor. The consecration scene contains possibly some of the finest music in the fact. In the second act there is a pleasing duet between Amneris and Aida, and the martial chorus of the first act as the return of the victor is announced. The finale of the act was stronger even than the previous one. In the third act are two grand duets, and Aida has a beautiful romanza, ‘O cieli azzuri.’ The music of the entire fourth act was very effective. Taken as a whole, it was one of the most effective spectacles ever presented in New York.”
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Review: Dwight's Journal of Music, 13 December 1873, 144.
“Hard times would have furnished the manager a good excuse for deferring indefinitely a project involving so great an outlay as the production of Aïda, but to his credit he has kept faith with the public and brought out that opera with a magnificence which I have never seen equalled [sic] upon any stage.
 
Your readers will not need a detailed account of this opera here, as so many descriptions of it have already been published, but a brief outline of the plot will not be out of place.” Summarizes plot and quotes New York Tribune review.