Kellogg English Opera: The Talisman

Roster. “First representation upon the American stage.”

Descriptive analysis. 

“Balfe devoted to ‘The Talisman’ the very last days of his life, and when he died in 1870 the work was still not quite finished, a few trifling gaps remaining, not in the vocal parts but in the instrumental accompaniment. The libretto was an English dramatization by Mr. Arthur Matthison of Sir Walter Scott’s novel. Until last night we believe the opera had never been sung in its original form. When it was brought out at Drury Lane last June the text was translated into Italian, and Sir Michael Costa supplied recitatives instead of the spoken dialogue, besides completing the few unfinished portions of the score. With Mme. Nilsson, Mlle. Marie Roze, Sig. Campanini, Sig. Rota, and Sig. Campobello in the cast, ‘The Talisman’ enjoyed a profitable run, and it was accepted by many as one of the most careful and pleasing of the composer’s works. That it will secure a long lease of the Italian stage we do not believe. Its forms are already antiquated. The grand opera of the present is constructed upon a very different model, and the grand opera of the future will offer a still stronger contrast to the succession of ballad, scena, duet, rhythmic chorus, and finale, with display pieces for each of the leading characters in turn, which constitutes opera of the school to which Balfe belonged. To the limited repertory of the genuine English stage, however, which, with its alternation of dialogue and song, seems very well suited by the old conventional opera, ‘The Talisman’ ought to prove a valuable addition. It melodies are prettily conceived; its accompaniments, though they compare unfavorably with the rich scoring of modern writers, show considerable vivacity and good taste; its story is interesting, and its situations are picturesque.

The play follows the novel with reasonable fidelity. It is divided into three Acts (played by Miss Kellogg’s company as four), and introduces nine characters, the cast last night being as follows [see above].

There is no formal overture, but merely a brief and not striking introduction, in which are prefigured two melodies belonging to the second Act. The curtain rises upon an Arab encampment in the desert, with a martial chorus, followed by a brief scene between the Emir and Sir Kenneth, and a bass and tenor duet in praise of women. We are next shown a desert sanctuary of Engaddi, where Edith enters to the accompaniment of an orchestral symphony, with solo passages for horns, flute, clarinet, &c., and sings an elaborate aria and scena (‘Solemnly, softly’). It is built upon the conventional and familiar plan, beginning with a recitative, passing thence into a suave larghetto melody, and closing with an animated bravura movement. The slave Nectabanus next has an aria of a somewhat grotesque character, alternating between the major and minor keys, and the scene changes to the interior of the chapel, where Sir Kenneth watches Edith as she moves with the Queen and a procession of Nuns, chanting the ‘Salve Regina.’ She drops a flower before Sir Kenneth as she passes, and this gives the text for the tenor’s chief aria, ‘Flow’ret, I kiss thee,’ a melody in Balfe’s happiest vein, snatches of which occur now and then in later scenes, as the ‘leading motive’ is introduced in Wagner’s operas. To the representation of the altar in this pretty scene there can be no reasonable objection, but the religious ceremonies by robed priests at the altar are not fit subjects for theatrical imitation.

At the beginning of the second Act, the tent of King Richard is disclosed, and the baritone has his first opportunity in the melody, ‘Oh who shall sing?’ The second scene is devoted to the quarrel between Richard and the Duke of Austria over the placing of the standard, and contains an impressive prayer by Richard (‘Monarch of all’). Sir Kenneth, left alone to guard the English standard, beguiles the solitude with a recitative and aria, introduced by a solo for the viola. The duet with Nectabanus, who comes to tempt the knight from his post by a pretended message from Edith, presents some dramatic contrasts, but it is not in such movements that Balfe appears at his best. In the pavilion of Queen Berengaria, however, we have some charming music—a female chorus; a pretty romanza for Berengaria, (‘Beneath a portal’); a slow melody in three movements for Edith, called ‘The Story of Sweet Eveline;’ a duet, in which Edith gives Sir Kenneth the ring cherished by him as his ‘Talisman and shield in battle;’ and a concerted finale introducing all the principal characters.

Sir Kenneth, banished from the camp for abandoning his post and allowing the standard to be struck down, has returned in disguise and atoned for his fault by saving the King’s life. The third Act, which is shorter and less interesting than either of the other two, is taken up with restoration of the Knight to favor, the disclosure of his true rank and title as Prince of Scotland, the union of the lovers, and the return of the expedition to England.

We are inclined to believe that the success which this opera achieved in England was due principally to the exceptional excellence of its representation. Last night, to tell the truth, we found it dull, and the music seemed astonishingly weak. There are three numbers, and only three, which are likely to have a long popularity, and they are all in the simple ballad style. These are the two sentimental songs for Sir Kenneth, ‘Flow’ret, I kiss thee,’ and ‘On balmy wings,’ and the lively song for Berengaria in polacca measure, ‘Beneath a Portal.’ They are all models of their kind. The two principal arias for Edith derived a certain charm from Miss Kellogg’s sweet and tender delivery, but they will not bear critical examination, for they are not excellent all through as the simpler pieces are. The concerted music is uniformly thin and commonplace, and the voice parts are merely accompanied by the orchestra—not reinforced.

The chief point in the representation last night was, of course, Miss Kellogg’s Edith, to which we can give unreserved and most cordial praise. The next was the capital Berengaria of Miss Beaumont. The male characters were less satisfactory. The orchestra was, perhaps, large enough for some of the voices it had to accompany, but it was much too small to do justice to the composer, and the harp, which has important duty to perform, especially in Kenneth’s first aria, was omitted. The recitatives added by Costa were used instead of the spoken dialogue designed by Balfe, and an attempt was thus made to elevate ‘The Talisman’ to the dignity of English Grand Opera, which we think was a mistake. Indeed, Miss Kellogg went so far as to retain a great deal of recitative which was omitted when the opera was performed in Italian. Several new and good scenes were set, and the dresses and properties were rich and appropriate.”

“Balfe’s opera of ‘The Talisman,’ represented for the first time in London, a year ago, was last evening performed for the first time in America at the Academy of Music. The recital of the work by Mr. Hess’ efficient company, was so smooth and impressive as to convey an excellent idea of its merits and force, and although the entertainment did not end until close upon midnight, we do not think it impossible, even in a hurried review, to deal justly with the posthumous production of the author of ‘The Bohemian Girl.’

Mr. Arthur Matthison, author of the libretto to which Balfe is wedded, tells its story in the following terms [plot synopsis follows].

Whether a more creative mind than Balfe would have drawn much inspiration from the incidents of which the foregoing sketch is a synopsis, is a matter of some doubt; but it is quite certain that Mr. Matthison’s semi-legendary, semi-historical romance has not done much for the Irish composer. A well-told tale is not, indeed, essential to an admirable score, as the music to ‘Die Zauberfloete,’ not to mention a dozen inferior operas, proves; but a good libretto is not without decided value in many cases, and the eloquence of the quartet in ‘Rigoletto,’ and the quintet in ‘Il Ballo,’ to cite only two pieces out of a hundred, derives great aid from the position they occupy in the story of which they are a part. The cleverly-handled, but, per se, quite undramatic poème of, ‘The Talisman,’ would not go far toward helping a writer to an idea; certain it is that at any rate it has not been of signal service to Balfe, and more need not be said. The partition of ‘The Talisman’ is a vast olla-podrida of reminiscences, clever combinations, and common-places. Portions of it will indeed satisfy and, perhaps, delight the ear. Three or four numbers will be repeated to satiety by voice and band and organ, but we are unable to single out one single passage conspicuous either by originality of thought or exceptional beauty of form. We do not deny that it may become popular, and, perhaps, its chances of success are increased rather than lessened by what we call its demerits, but these are nevertheless positive. There is everything in ‘The Talisman’ except that which is novel in conception or execution. Donizetti’s ‘Deserto in terra’ is recalled to us in ‘Flowret, I kiss thee;’ the coloring of Nelusko’s bars in ‘L’Africaine’ is suggested by the music allotted to Nectabanus; touches of ‘Les Huguenots’—witness the viola accompaniments to ‘On balmy wings,’ and the accompaniments characteristic of Marcel elsewhere—abound, and even the chromatic progressions with which ‘Lohengrin’ has lately made the ear familiar, are discernable in the same air which the viola strains referred to already preface. It would under the circumstances not be profitable, we think to review the opera thematically; it is a long potpourri, rather tedious as a whole, but brightened at a few points by what may be best described as ‘taking’ tunes. A brief prelude serves as the overture to ‘The Talisman,’ and nothing at all notable presents itself until the second scene, in which a melodious arietta is assigned to Edith. The happiest achievement in the act, however, is, in spite of its want of freshness, Sir Kenneth’s air, ‘Flowret, I kiss thee.’ In the second act—which was divided into two, last night—the King has a fine declamatory cantabile, and, later on, Sir Kenneth sings ‘On balmy wings,’ which will not be as widely whistled as his first song, but which is more commendable, in our judgment, by its subject and its treatment. The second half of the act is unquestionably the most interesting portion of the opera; it is vivacious throughout, and contains many pleasing strains, and Berengaria’s air, ‘Beneath a portal,’ which can be justly referred to as one of the few gems in a rather impoverished casket. A long duet between Sir Kenneth and Edith closes with a purely Italian, but very animated and telling ensemble, commencing ‘Away, the voice of honor.’ In what was the fourth act a florid aria for Edith, ‘Radiant splendors,’ is the one noticeable feature.

As implied above, last evening’s rehearsal did infinite credit to the management and artists concerned. Miss Kellogg does some excellent acting as well as some expressive and tasteful singing as Berengaria, and her co-operation in the duet in the third act with Mr. Maas secured an encore for its final bars, while her song of ‘Radiant Splendors’ was at once redemanded. Mr. Maas as Sir Kenneth, delivered both his pretty romances with the skill and discretion which generally characterize his work, and the two numbers had to be repeated, his performance, in a dramatic sense, leaving little to be wished for. Mr. Carleton personated the King, and his fine voice afforded the wonted pleasure, which would, let us remark, be considerably enhanced by a little more ease and repose of manner. Berengaria was nicely portrayed by Miss Beaumont, whose song in the third act was encored. The one performance of the night to which exception could fairly be taken was that of Mr. Peakes, who portrayed Nectabanus as a hybrid creature, half Caliban, half Prospero, and whose singing was as false as his view of the character. The concerted music, we have to say, besides, was correctly given; M. Prédigam kept his orchestra well in hand; and the management contributed several fresh and appropriate scenes, and many rich costumes, all of which made the mise en scène of ‘The Talisman’ uncommonly handsome. There was a great deal of applause during the recital, more than enough to justify the repetition of Balfe’s achievement to-morrow and at the matinée on Saturday afternoon, and to show that real gratitude was felt toward Mr. Hess for according American audiences an opportunity to listen to the newest opera of the day, and to one which, malgré its slight musical worth, may still have its champions among the public.”

“Balfe’s posthumous opera ‘The Talisman’ was given last evening at the Academy of Music with the following cast [see above].

It is an opera that has excited much interest partly because it was a posthumous work of the composer, his latest and presumably his most mature composition, and partly because Madame Nilsson did the work the honor to appear in the Italian version of it (Il Talismano) produced last June at Drury Lane. Campanini was also in the cast, assuming the character of Sir Kenneth. These and their fellow artists combined, by the excellence of their singing, to give to the work as then performed a considerable degree of success.

A very large audience gathered at the Academy to hear the opera last evening. Among them all we doubt if there was a single one who remembered the author as he once appeared on the Italian stage of this city. He was here in 1834 as a member of one of the first Italian opera companies that ever came to America, and if any have kept the old playbills of that day they will find there the name of Sig. Balfi, then a very respectable baritone singer and the composer, that was to be, of ‘The Rose of Castile,’ ‘The Puritan’s Daughter,’ ‘The Bohemian Girl,’ ‘The Maid of Artois,’ and a dozen other operas that have had their day—indeed their generation—of popularity on the English stage. Balfe, for thirty-five years, was the foremost English operatic composer, and nothing tells more strikingly the story of the poverty of the English school than that a man of such exceedingly moderate endowments should so long have remained in the great domain of opera, its supreme and undisputed head. He was not even an Englishman, for the English borrowed him as they did his confrere, William Vincent Wallace, from Ireland. What small training he permitted himself to acquire he obtained in Italy. But he never was seriously trained. He thought that a native talent for composing melody would take its place, and he based his reputation on those pretty and taking melodies that he had so happy a facility for turning off, and which popularized themselves at once, and were whistled in every street, ground out on every Barbary organ, and tinkled on every piano the wide world over. There never was a musician who acquired so widespread a popularity on so slender a basis of attainments. His melodies are formal in structure, sentimental in character, and almost all of the same genre. His concerted music is harmonious, but very slightly put together and simple almost to feebleness. His orchestration is neither vigorous, bold, learned nor varied. It serves only as an accompaniment to sustain the voices and to fill out the harmony.

Occasionally there are bits of ingenuity and fancy, but the general impression given by the instrumentation is one of monotony. When he wrote ‘Then I’ll remember thee’ and ‘I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,’ he reached the full level of his ability. These melodies he never surpassed, and upon their model he preceded to construct most of the others that have added to his reputation, using over and over again the same material. To hear his music is like looking into a good kaleidoscope, as the instrument is turned fresh figures are formed that have the effect of novelty, but when we carefully study them we recognize the same bits of blue and green and yellow glass, only in combinations. So it is with this opera, ‘The Talisman.’ It is a recapitulation of all the other work that Balfe had been doing for thirty-five years, only the vigor of his youth was gone—there are no such airs as he put into the ‘Bohemian Girl’ even. He had the misfortune, also, to write to a poor libretto by Arthur Mathison. The best thing about it is its name.

‘The Talisman’ is an excellent title. Unfortunately the opera, unlike Scott’s novel from which it is taken, has nothing in it about the Talisman. Mathison himself wished to called it ‘The Knight of the Leopard,’ which would have had some significance, that being the title of the hero of the piece. As a play it is deficient in dramatic action; the story amounts to very little, and there is no progress or interest in the situations. The scene is laid in Palestine, and the time is that of the crusades.

This affords excellent opportunity for picturesque scenery and graceful and striking costumes—coats of mail for the Crusaders, turbans and Saracente Dresses for the Moslems. Miss Kellogg has made good use of these opportunities, and has presented the opera with much care and elaboration. In the first scene, a strikingly picturesque one, a camel was introduced kneeling in the centre of the stage, and evidently very much astonished at the sham Orientalism with which he was surrounded. In fact, he felt so little at home in what, lacking sadly imagination, he failed to recognize as his native Palestine, that there was an evident indisposition on his part to fly from the mock desert and find his way back to the Hippodrome through the orchestra, or by any other convenient method. The animals never seem to make themselves quite at home on the lyric stage.

The setting of the remaining acts was as excellent as that of the first. As to the singing, the opera had evidently been most carefully prepared, and the cast was in excellent hands, as will be seen by reference to the distribution which we have printed above. Miss Kellogg herself was in particularly good voice and exerted herself zealously and effectively, so did Mr. Maas and Mr. Carleton. If the opera does not please it must be laid to the door of the composer and his music, and not to that of the singers and their interpretation of it. The plot is nothing but a succession of scenes upon which to frame melodies, but briefly stated the following are its principal points...[synopsis follows].

Here, as will readily be seen, is a hopelessly dull, inactive, and uninteresting plot. It affords, nevertheless, some situations for forcible music, for example, in the church scene in the rock chapel, where the nuns sing a Salve Regina for two female voices (solo) and chorus, with orchestra and organ accompaniment. But Balfe does not rise to the situation. The tenor song, ‘Flow’ret, I kiss thee,’ and Edith’s aria d’entrata, ‘Solemnity, softly cometh the nightfall,’ in the first act, some of Richard’s music in the second, a duet for soprano and tenor in the third, and the bravura rondo of Edith, ‘Radiant splendors,’ are some of the salient melodies of the opera.

Balfe and his music have always found favor with a multitude of people, and probably there will be many whose judgment may commend this work, but the representation of last evening left upon us no impression except that of the weakest and most commonplace writing.”

“Last night, at the Academy of Music, ‘The Talisman’ was produced for the first time in America. There was a full attendance and the work was well received.

Miss Kellogg appeared as Edith Plantagenet, and succeeded in her endeavors to represent the Saxon maiden. Her dresses were not only becoming, but gave evidence of study and research. The same remark applied equally well to the other artists. In the air ‘Solemnly, softly’ and in the succeeding verse, ‘Bright as the gleam of thy stars,’ her claims to be regarded as an accomplished singer were fully made known. After a most brilliant shake she was loudly applauded, and at the conclusion of the scena received a recall and a handsome epergne of flowers.

Mr. Harry Peakes, as Nectabanus, achieved a great success. His general aspect, admirable voice and exceedingly clever acting made his entry on the scene at all times welcome. He was unanimously encored in the song, ‘I love the sky.’

The chapel scene was considered effective as a tableau, the altar-piece being particularly brilliant, but the chorus, ‘Salve Regina,’ did not greatly please. The lowest part was slightly below pitch; but such defects in the intonation were not noticed elsewhere throughout the opera.

Mr. Maas as Sir Kenneth made a good impression, though he was rather reserved and undemonstrative, even in those parts which most persons desire to see rendered with some show of passionate emotion and enthusiasm. His voice has a peculiar veiled quality, and occasionally, especially in soft parts, it appears slightly dry and husky; but these characteristics are generally found combined in tenor voices of this kind, and are much admired, particularly when the singer exerting himself in the production of loud and high notes, has the ability to so change the quality of his voice that it becomes clarion-toned and brilliant.

Mr. Carleton, as Richard, gave ‘Oh! who shall sing the rapture’ at the beginning of the second act particularly well, and declaimed subsequently, with great force and vigor, the passage ending ‘Tempt not, Sir Knight, the paw of the lion.’

The second scene of this act formed an agreeable spectacle, and the sunset effects were most cleverly managed. The choruses were also exceedingly well sung and occasionally appeared massive and broad.

This act was divided into two parts. At the beginning of the second part (the fourth scene) the chorus ‘Hours and hours roll swiftly on’ was charmingly sung, and Miss Beaumont as Queen Berengaria then first came into view. She was suitably and richly attired, and her impersonation was successful. The song of Navarre, ‘Beneath a portal,’ which has the rhythmic peculiarity we noticed in our review of this opera on Tuesday, at once attracted attention and was encored. It is possible that notwithstanding the ‘taking’ nature of this melody, the animated and captivating delivery of it by Miss Beaumont did much to bring it immediately into favor. Towards the end of this part, and subsequently, Mr. Maas remained either perfectly calm or represented a love-lorn knight, and hardly realized our conception of a brave soldier and manly man, governed by an ennobling passion. In fact, Miss Kellogg as Edith was forced to assume the initiative to remove insipidity and infuse life into the action.

The concerted piece which followed was well given.

In the processional march in the last act, the soldiers did not appear to have been sufficiently drilled, the step being wanting in uniformity; but in other respects the processions, the groupings, and such important matters, had received full attention.

Miss Kellogg, in the brilliant song, ‘Radiant Splendors,’ sang particularly well, and ending with a remarkably good note on high ‘D.’

There was no harp in the orchestra, though for the first time a second pair of horns was employed. The whole performance was most creditable. The parts had been so well prepared that the assistance of the prompter was seldom required. The fate of this opera depends upon the acceptance or rejection of the principal melodic themes by the people, for, as we have shown, it has all the characteristics of a work by the successful composer of ‘The Bohemian Girl.’”

“It is now forty-six years since the most prolific if not the most eminent of British musicians first appeared before the public as an opera composer. Strange to say, his first effort was made on the Italian stage, the opera of ‘I Rivail’ being produced in 1829. From that time to the period of his death, nine years ago, he displayed a fecundity of invention and talent in lyric works thoroughly Rossinian in extent and richness. Like the Swan of Pesaro, Balfe seemed to be a very wellspring of melody, and ballads were as indigenous to him as strange combinations of orchestral coloring were to Hector Berlioz. Therefore the announcement of a work by him which was scarcely completed (and there were a few gaps left in the score, which have been since skillfully filled up) when he was overtaken by death, was a strong inducement for a music-loving public of New York to don opera cloaks, kid gloves and other opera paraphernalia of a first night and turn their ears resolutely against the chant of the ‘Seven Penitential Psalms,’ the music en regle for the commencement of Lent, and drink in a fresh draught from the fountain of melody, which, springing from the soil of the Emerald Isle, has spread itself over the musical world. The Academy of Music last night was comfortably filled, and the success of the opera was at once a fixed fact. Like Verdi in ‘Aida,’ Balfe in his last work has acknowledged the growth of the modern opera in its dramatic requirements, and has made a long stride toward instrumental effects, thereby acknowledging the very important part which the orchestra should occupy, according to the theory of the later schools. But the spirit of melody never deserted him, and in ‘The Talisman’ may be found some delightful airs, all the more acceptable on account of the rich framework of instrumentation in which they are exhibited. Passing over the short orchestral prelude, the opening chorus, ‘Soldiers of Araby,’ is a very interesting number, full of quaint devices, Oriental in character and abounding in ingenious effects in counterpoint, yet with a hearty, martial spirit pervading it. The first duet of Sir Kenneth (Mr. Maas) and the Emir (Mr. Hamilton), ‘Golden Lovelocks’ is a waif from the earlier creations of Balfe, pretty and flowing in its measures. The prayer of Edith (Miss Kellogg) ‘Solemnly, Softly,’ is a beautiful, expressive theme, capable of being rendered with much breadth of expression, but written rather low for a soprano voice, unless one of a peculiarly dramatic quality, whose lower notes are strong and telling. A capital song is that of Nectabanus (Mr. Peakes), ‘I love the sky when no bright stars shine,’ grotesque and a faithful portraiture of the evil-minded hunchback slave. This was written for a high baritone voice and Mr. Peakes was compelled to transpose a great deal of the music; but so clever was his acting and declamation of the spiteful feelings of the character that he won the first encore of the evening. The music of the chapel scene is of a strictly ecclesiastical order, and the ‘Salve Regina’ might easily be carried into the church of the most exacting of Catholic pastors without betraying the slightest taint of the footlights. The abbot and assistants on the altar might be dispensed with, as they are as much out of place and as offensive to the religious feelings of a large number of the musical public as were their predecessors in the church scene in ‘Faust’ when Lucca first appeared.

Next came the principal melody of the opera, the celebrated ‘Rose Song,’ written especially for Sims Reeves. It is a love idyl—a gem such as Balfe or Wallace alone might write, and yet it recalled to mind the great tenor aria in ‘Don Sebastiano,’ which it somewhat resembles in its rich, undulating measures. It will share the popularity long ago gained by ‘The Power of Love’ in ‘Santanella.’ Mr. Maas sang it rather coldly, nervousness, perhaps, and the high and trying character of its tonality exercising a baleful effect upon his voice. Some striking effects in the accompaniment, the harp chord, which occurs in each measure, and the cor Anglais obligato being omitted.

Richard Coeur de Lion (Mr. Carleton) had the first scene of the second act to himself in a fine Balfian song and apostrophe to the Queen, and in a martial, characteristic air, ‘Monarch of all,’ in which the chorus of Crusaders joined. The march introduced in this scene was not particularly effective, and the dispute on St. George’s Mount appeared to be of a chaotic order, as far as the chorus was concerned. In the scene in the Queen’s pavilion there were three notable triumphs and consequent encores.

The first was a most charming song, rendered by Queen Berengaria (Miss Beaumont), the second a descriptive ballad, ‘The Fair Eveline,’ given by Edith, and the third an impassioned duet between the soprano and tenor (Edith and Sir Kenneth) of the same genre of that of ‘La Favorita,’ or the finale of ‘I Martiri.’ This duet fairly brought down the house. In the last act here is a grand processional march and a brilliant rondo, ‘Radiant Splendors,’ for Edith, both of which are sufficient to bring the work to a fitting conclusion.

The performance last evening had many elements of merit of a very exalted kind. Miss Kellogg personated Edith Plantagenet in that finished and artistic manner that might be expected from such a conscientious artist, and in two or three scenes she surpassed many of her former successes in rôles with which her name has become identified. Miss Beaumont, who has become a favorite with the public during the present short season, won fresh laurels in the rôle of the Queen, and Mr. Maas, albeit at times overweighted, made Sir Kenneth interesting in a lyric point of view, but emotionless and apathetic as far as dramatic exigencies were in question. Mr. Carleton was in excellent voice and did justice to the music of the King, and Mr. Peakes made Nectabanus a feature. More rehearsals and better discipline would be of better advantage in the chorus and orchestra. Mr. Predigam however, conducted with skill and discrimination, and prevented any mishaps.

The opera has all the elements of success in it, and when every department is in good order, so that at least a perfectly smooth representation can be obtained, there is little doubt of its becoming a permanent feature in the répertoire of English opera.”

“The Talisman’ was last evening represented at the Academy of Music, for the second time. Its performance suggests no addition to yesterday’s comments upon the opera’s first recital. Miss Kellogg and her associates do very creditable work throughout its four acts, and the stage attire bestowed upon it is exceedingly good, but it is quite clear that the music is deficient in charm, power, science, or novelty. The numbers of ‘The Talisman’ to which we have already referred pleased last night as promptly and as generally as on Wednesday; three or four tuneful airs, however, bear too small a proportion to several hundred pages of writing, ambitious, occasionally noisy, and very rarely attaining the effect intended, for ‘The Talisman’ ever to hold a prominent place among lyrics of the age. Still it is the new opera of the year, and all persons interested in music should hear it once at least. The audience last night was very large, and that of the matinée, at which Balfe’s achievement will be performed for the last time this afternoon ought to be quite as satisfactory to the management.”

“The second performance of Balfe’s opera took place at the Academy last evening to a fairly filled house. Doubtless the cold weather was to blame for the prevailing somberness of the ladies’ costumes as much as the Lenten season. Apart from all this, there is a certain agreement in fashionable circles that English opera does not call for that grand tenue which is freely accorded to the opera in Italian. This should only be reasoned out on the line that the operas in the vulgar tongue are not so good or attractive as those in the melodious language of Petrarch; but alas and alack, whatever justice there might be in that view, here is a case in which an opera written to an English libretto was dressed in Italian to appear in London, and only sees the footlights in its native costume by being exiled over the sea to America. It must be admitted that the liquid and vowel-filled nonsense which does duty for Italian libretti fits the mouths of the singers better than English words with sense and coherency in them. Last night, for instance, the performers slaughtered the lines wherever they pleased. If a word interfered with a vocal flourish, was sibilant where it should be liquid, out it went, as if to say:--‘Matthison, murderer of song, take your hissing syllables—we’ll none of them.’ Tennyson is perhaps the only living writer of English who could composer a libretto that the singers would respect. He never would, for instance, write such a harsh sounding line as, ‘The fair touch of love is forever extinguished,’ which Edith Plantagenet is obliged to drag from between her teeth in her lament for Eveline.

The performance last night was very well given throughout. It has been remarked that the ‘Talisman’ lacks the gorgeous instrumentation of the Wagnerian school, but it must be remembered that Balfe never attempted this path to tonic effect, preferring that of melody, pure and simple. The ‘tone poem’ business is all very fine, but until nine-tenths of the public are able to tell without a handbook whether the fierce combat of wind and string means a pang of despair or a spasm of delight, the melody which thrills the sense with its rhythmic tones alone will have its votaries among the people. There is, however, more orchestral coloring in the ‘Talisman’ than any of his previous works, while the melodic beauty of his toning is unimpaired. This opera is not a revelation like the ‘Flying Dutchman,’ or a compromise between styles like ‘Dido,’ but a true Balfian opera, better in many ways, than any of its predecessors. The audience last night was cold and timid, and the third act was reached without a recall. Thenceforth, however, there was considerable warmth, Miss Beaumont, receiving an encore in her charming ballad, ‘Neath a Portal,’ an honor accorded also to Miss Kellogg and Mr. Maas in the tent scene. There was no change in the distribution, and it must be said that both chorus and orchestra were kept well in hand with one exception, where the female chorus failed to take up the refrain of the Queen’s ballad. The concluding rondo was brilliantly given by Miss Kellogg, and the ‘Floweret’ by Mr. Maas well sung.”

“A matinée recital of ‘The Talisman’ occurred at the Academy of Music, yesterday afternoon, and rounded off pleasantly a brief and prosperous season. English opera will never replace Italian opera—though there really seems to be no reason why it should not do so—but it appeals to a very large class of the public by performances smooth, effective, and appreciable, and by admission-rates which the demands of foreign artists, or, to be precise, the wealth and liberality of foreign dilettanti, made it impossible for a manager to adopt. From an artistic standpoint, Mr. Hess has dealt generously with the public, for, while it was quite clear that the most hackneyed works of the répertoire would draw large audiences, he has brought out with great completeness of stage-attire ‘The Talisman,’ and has thus afforded music-lovers a chance of hearing the only new opera with which they were unfamiliar. Mr. Hess and his company return at the end of March, and their first visit has given so much pleasure that the tidings of their reappearance will surely be greeted with satisfaction.”

Roster and plot synopsis. “The recital of the work was very creditable to the artists of the Kellogg Troupe, the measure of success which it attained being solely due to their careful interpretation of the opera and their admirable exposition of its few salient points. The work, even though presented in the most favorable manner, proved decidedly disappointing, and in its musical development gave but little proof of originality, offering instead a series of reminiscences and hackneyed ideas that, notwithstanding a certain clever and musicianly construction, presented the most positive proof of a want of creative power. A few of the numbers, notably the ‘Rose Song,’ have in them elements necessary for popular success, being decidedly Balfeian in their form, and recalling some of the happier inspirations of the composer; but there are so few bright, taking melodies for the general ear, so slight an offering for musical consideration, that the work can be classed not otherwise than most ineffective and uninteresting. Miss Kellogg, who was in capital voice, gave a skillful and artistic impersonation of the character of the Lady Edith, and Miss Beaumont, Messrs. Carlton, Maas and Peakes gave a creditable rendition of their different impersonations. The minor parts and chorus were also well up in the musical demands of the opera. The Saturday matinee performance of ‘The Talisman,’ which was witnessed by a crowded house, closed a successful season.”