Strakosch Italian Opera: Lucia di Lammermoor

“The Academy of Music being again crowded last night, we may assume that the taste of New-York requires not an opera but a prima donna, and we shall probably hear no more for the present of the manager’s intention to improve the mise-en-scène and strengthen the subsidiary parts. Miss Albani has restored the star system in all its former vigor. She chose for her second appearance a rôle which is associated in our minds with the late triumphs of two of the most highly gifted singers of the day—Christine Nilsson and Ilma di Murska—and it is a remarkable tribute to Miss Albani’s talents that even when judged as she must have been by such standards as those she created a real enthusiasm in her listeners. A voice so pure, so fresh, so mellow, has not sounded in our Academy for many a season. A second hearing gives us no cause to modify in the smallest particular the praise we bestowed upon it before, nor do we find any reason to change our judgment of the young lady’s beautiful style and excellent culture. The Mad Scene was an exquisite and elaborate piece of vocalism in which the most minute critic could hardly detect an imperfection. Embellished with a trill of marvelous brilliancy, and sprinkled over with the pearly staccato notes to which we have called attention before as among the chief charms of Miss Albani’s singing, it was an astonishing display of dexterity, while it gave us more and more cause to admire the clean and elegant delivery of the voice. We feel when Miss Albani sings that we are listening not merely to an ambitious girl, but to a trained artist. She has not yet displayed any great ability in the expression of passionate emotions either by voice or action; but in her proper and possibly rather narrow sphere she shines as a star of the first magnitude.

In ‘La Sonnambula’ her support was discreditable. In ‘Lucia’ it was very much better, Sig. Carpi being Edgardo, and Sig. Del Puente Ashton. The tenor was not in his best voice, but he gave the ‘Fra poco a me ricovero’ with effect. The sestet was repeated.”

“Mlle. Albani’s second hearing in this city had at least as favorable a result for that young, gifted, and skilled songstress as her début. She personated Lucia in Donizetti’s well-known opera, and while the impression of her vocal performance was fully as deep as that wrought Wednesday, the wider scope afforded the singer and actress was productive of demonstrations of delight bringing one back to the days when Mme. Nilsson’s popularity was at its height. To dwell upon Mlle. Albani’s excellences as a vocalist would necessitate a repetition of Thursday’s notice, written after the recital of ‘La Sonnambula.’ If any value is set upon faultless execution, Mlle. Albani outranks all her contemporaries, for even Mme. Patti’s efforts are frequently open to reproof, where the American artist’s suggest absolutely none. They remind us of Mr. Santley’s work with the difference that Mr. Santley’s was mechanical, while Mlle. Albani’s is neither spiritless nor unexpressive. A reference to the new-comer’s voice would also involve a step upon ground already traversed. Her tones are of the utmost purity, roundness, and power, and they extend into the realms of alt with undiminished beauty of timbre. It remains then but to remark, once more, that after Bellini’s relatively unimportant achievement had shown that Mlle. Albani has a splendid voice, and that she controls it to perfection, Donizetti’s more exacting and dramatic score reasserted her possession of both voice and art, and, as a consequence, her claim to be counted with the few great prima donnas of the age. An audience of exceeding brilliancy and warmth thronged the Academy of Music, last evening, and gave evidence of their recognition of these facts. As usual, the applause and recalls were particularly loud and numerous after the ‘mad scene,’ but we should be unjust did we choose this or any one number of ‘Lucia’ as a test piece. Whatever Mr. Strakosch’s pensionnaire did was done with delicious taste and precision. The cabaletta ‘Quando rapita’ was not superior to the andante preceding it and commencing ‘Regnava nel silenzio;’ nor was either of the duets, with tenor or with baritone, to be singled out for commendation. The plane of vocal perfection was touched in the first air, and whether broad recitative, clear cantabile measures, or florid passages were allotted to Lucia, Mlle. Albani was steadily equal to her task. How thorough a mistress of song is Mlle. Albani was best seen at that stage of events when the demented bride wanders through the castle halls, and pictures, in snatches of sweetest melody, the wedding ceremony which she fancies is in progress. Generally, the andante and the allegro are overloaded with ornament by the performer, and the effect attained, strong as it may be, is that attendant on the pyrotechnics of what Italians call a cantante di ki-ki-ki. Mlle. Albani’s variations from the text are few, and the comparative chastity of the music so interpreted—by such a voice and with such a method as her own, be it understood—is infinitely more suggestive of lyric love and woe. A rare outburst of gratification followed the scene, and Mlle. Albani had to come forth five or six times, and devote some minutes to gathering a veritable harvest of flowers. She acted Lucia much as she sang the part, and nearly as well. We do not think she has vehement dramatic impulses, but there is abundant intelligence, sensibility, grace, and experience in her stage business, and in the trying meeting with Edgardo,  after the sestette—which we may here cite as having been encored—the emotions of Scott’s heroine, in that terrible hour, were as vividly portrayed by action as by song. Signor Carpi was Edgardo, and, though he was not vocally at his best, he rendered the music of the first act with charm and sentiment. Signor Del Puente represented Enrico, and Signor Scolara Raimondo; it will be inferred that the general recital left little to be wished.”

“Mlle. Emma Albani made her second appearance at the Academy of Music last night. On the previous occasion her triumph was complete, and the vast assembly, after witnessing it, and testifying by loud acclamations their own individual satisfaction and pleasure, dispersed to diffuse far and wide their personal knowledge of the fact that another great singer of American birth had been added to the roll of fame. The enjoyment derived from music is utterly unselfish. It even gives rise to an intense desire to endeavor to enable others to participate in its pleasures; for this reason it should not cause surprise that each auditor of Wednesday evening made known to his immediate friends the gratification derived from the excellent voice and singing of  Mlle. Albani, and induced them also to avail themselves of the opportunity to hear her, and that, in consequence, a second still larger assembly would be formed on the occasion of the production of Donizetti’s ‘Lucia di Lammermoor,’ in which she would appear as Lucia.

As a matter of course, an enormous audience was brought together, which testified in the most enthusiastic manner that Mlle. Albani’s success was fully corroborated by confirming the testimony of the previous occasion, making ‘assurance doubly sure.’

Donizetti’s favorite opera is too well known to require consideration here. It will be sufficient to say that it gave Mlle. Albani a better opportunity of exerting her varied powers.

In the legend ‘Regnavanel silenzio,’ of the prologue, she was enabled to display not only the extreme beauty of her voice but also a broad style of delivery–the notes being fully sustained—and great executive ability. On proceeding to the universally admired cavatina ‘Quando rapito in estazi,’ with its brilliant runs and impulsive-like character, she demonstrated to a certainty her power to express ecstatic joy. The whole of this cavatina was sung one semitone higher, and twice high C and once high B flat were produced with most lovely qualities of tone. The favorite duet ‘Verrano a te,’ which concludes the prologue, was followed with loud and prolonged applause. ‘Il pallor’ of the second part was also transposed a semitone higher; and the first division of the mad scene one whole tone higher, at the conclusion of which, after several elaborate roulades in company with the flute in the orchestra, high C was sustained with remarkably good effect, while the flute performed a shake on E natural. In this scene Mlle. Albani achieved the greatest success. The perception of the spectre, the celestial music, nuptial hymn, the altar, &c., leading on to the melody, ‘Spargi d’amaro pianto,’ were all portrayed with great vividness and dramatic power. The bravura passages inserted in the melody were intoned with great distinctness. Each note, even those occurring in the chromatic scales, was most accurately defined, though without being separately marked, or detached as in the staccato style. The apparently easy way in which she triumphs over such enormous difficulties, and makes runs so thoroughly enjoyed which when badly executed have a very disagreeable effect, is an experience which few who fully appreciate can pass without comment. At the conclusion of the sestet in the second finale, high D flat was sustained, and again also on its repetition, which was made in deference to a unanimous encore. Mlle. Albani was recalled very frequently, and received presents of flowers from numerous admirers.

Signor Carpi sang magnificently throughout. His splendid voice, artistic singing and agreeable presence have already made him a great favorite. He sang the ‘Tu che a Dio’ of the final aria in the most satisfactory manner, and made a deep impression by the rendering of the preceding recitative, ‘Tombi degl’avi miei.’

Signor Del Puente also distinguished himself greatly. He sang the beautiful ‘Se tradirmi’ of the marriage contract act one semitone higher throughout, and with great force and energy.

The opera was well performed, and reflected credit on all those who took part in its production. But the chief attention for the last two evenings has been bestowed by the audience on Mlle. Albani, not only on account of her great powers but also out of courtesy, being only just now introduced.”

“Rarely has the Academy of Music witnessed a triumph so genuine, so well founded, and, we might indeed say, so enduring, as that achieved by Mlle. Albani last night. The merit of the success was all the greater when we take into consideration the large number of prominent artists who have essayed the rôle both in this country and in Europe. We met last night veterans in operatic experience who spoke of the first performance of the opera forty years ago at Naples, and to whom the first Lucia, Persiani, was a prima donna such as is not heard nowadays. When one glances over the list of fame on which are inscribed so many celebrated names—Persiani, Bosio, Frezzolini, Sontag, Catharine Hays, Dolores Nau, Jenny Lind, Piccolomini, Di Murska, Kellogg, Nilsson &c.—a natural doubt enters the mind as to the result of the efforts of a new interpreter of the woes and sorrows of the Bride of Lammermoor. Donizetti does not appear to the same advantage, dramatically speaking, in this opera as in some of his other works, but his melodies in it are richer and more taking. The principal attraction—and we might say the sole one—last evening was Mlle. Albani. When she first made her appearance after Mme. Maretzek’s harp solo (a very artistic performance, by the way), the young American prima donna was received with a heartiness and enthusiasm that testified the appreciation of the audience of her grand success in Bellini’s opera on Wednesday night. The opening aria, ‘Regnaya nel silenzio,’ in which Lucia describes the vision of the spectre of the fountain, and which is generally treated with indifference by the representatives of the rôle, was rendered by Mlle. Albani with as much care, expression and dramatic power as even the final scene. She acted the scene with the same effect as she sang it. The cabaletta, ‘Quando rapita in estasi,’ was an idyl of vocal beauty in its delicacy. Then came the well known scene with Edgardo, which closes the first act, and the purity of the voice, the sympathetic tone, the flexibility and precision in execution, the clear phrasing and the artless, naïve acting of the prima donna combined to present an operatic portraiture that at once aroused enthusiasm.

In the second act, the scene with her brother, in which the unhappy Lucia becomes convinced of her lover’s faithlessness, was another vocal and histrionic triumph. Nothing could be more despairing and desolate than the utterance of the words ‘Soffrira nel pianto’—a wail over the tomb of love. The great sextet, ‘Chi mi frena,’ one of the best, of the concerted pieces written by the composer, was delivered by all the participants with such richness and fullness of expression and such thrilling effect that it was tumultuously re-demanded. The anguish of the bride of Lammermoor at the discovery of the fatal mistake she made in listening to the specious arguments of her brother, and her despair at the passionate reproaches of the Master of Ravenswood, were delineated with a startling power that has rarely been felt on our operatic boards. When, repulsed for the last time by her enraged lover, Lucia sinks on the stage in a deathlike trance, the action of Mlle. Albani was that of an accomplished actress.

But in the mad scene the climax of greatness in this impersonation was reached. After the fearful scene in the bridal chamber, so graphically described by Raimondo (Signor Scolara), the demented bride rushes in and sings the dream of love, commencing with ‘Il dolce suono mi colpi di sua voce.’ Although the dramatic character of the scene is considerably marred by the exuberance of florid vocalization with which the composer has invested it, and although such music must appear puerile when placed beside Verdi, Meyerbeer and Wagner in illustrating a similar situation, yet the melodious character of the music and the opportunity for bravura display lend attractions to the general public. The dream of a marriage with the object of her affection was a vocal and pantomimic triumph of art with the Lucia of last evening. These charming passages with flute obligato were unerring in true phrasing and nicety of expression, and around them was thrown an embroidery of fiorituri that only the most complete art could frame. The delicacy of the aria, ‘Spargi d’amaro pianto,’ the expiring sigh of a broken heart, was well preserved, and the rendering was such as a sympathetic nature, a mobile Nilsson-like voice and a thorough, all-sufficient school of vocal training alone can give. The Lucia of Mlle. Albani is [in] no respect inferior to those of her illustrious predecessors on the boards of the Academy of Music. The audience were of the same opinion, for they clamored for her at the end of each act.

Signor Carpi sang the music of Edgardo very commendably and won deserved applause in the two final arias, ‘Fra proco a me,’ and ‘Tu, che a Dio spiegasti.’ Signor Del Puente left nothing to be desired in the rôle of Ashton. His fine, sonorous, baritone voice, manly presence and ease and power in acting were demonstrated in the most favorable manner. But the attention of the audience was so taken up with Albani that there was little time for them to lend an ear to her assistants. It was a great and unmistakable triumph, and, although art is cosmopolitan, we may be pardoned for mentioning the prima donna as a young American girl who has in the course of a very few years attained a position in the lyric drama second to none.”