Maretzek Italian Opera: Roberto Devereux

". .. . [The officers of the Russian navy, which was moored in New York Harbor] applauded with much taste and discernment. For example, the signal for bravos at the end of the great first-act duet was launched from the Muscovite box. Perhaps without this intelligent initiative, the audience would let this capital piece, so admirably sung, pass unnoticed. It was icy the evening when that happened, [it's like that] almost always when the hall is invaded by the fashionable world. I don't know precisely to what this phenomenon, often witnessed by the habitués of the opera, should be attributed. It may be that those whom they call the happiest people in the world bring with them to the theatre a boredom about putting the best music to the test; it could be that the white gloves fear that applauding like plain bare hands would detract from their elegance; it's always [the case] that the more the auditorium glitters, the higher the coldness climbs. This circumstance entered quite a bit into the uncertain welcome that Donizetti's score first encountered. And yet it deserves to stay in the repertory, abofe all when it's sung as it was on Wednesday. Doubtless a severe musical critique could find some garbled reminiscences, some meanings that don't come together. But side by side with these blots, there are some real and great beauties. The duet that I just recalled, the one immediately following it, the trio in the second act, the two arias for the prima donna, the one that Roberto sings in his prison, are pieces that carry the mark of the master. They began to understand it at the second performance; they'll understand it better at the ones that follow later on.

     You already know that Mme Medori was a magnificent Elizabeth and moreover you could know that in advance. Everything this truly great artist touches is endowed with a power, a dramatic sweep that is the characteristic trait of her talent. She even, on this occasion, knew how to give her rôle a grandeur that was surely in the composer's thoughts, but that he didn't always know how to convey completely. To her success as an artist, Mme Medori has joined a successful costume--not completely accurate historically as they  said a bit oblingingly--but, as it were, in richness, good taste and truly royal elegance. At the French theater, they would have demanded a ruff collar; but the Italian stage isn't as particular as all that and has outlived worse things. Moreover, this heavily bejeweled collar, to have appeared in the costumes of this era, isn't any less awkward and should disappear with pleasure, to the advantage of facial expression and freedom of singing.

     Mlle Sulzer, who had scrupulously maintained it, would also gain by taking it off. It disfigures her refined head in a way that's not at all favorable, and takes away all the animation from her acting, which is already cold all by itself. The lack of communicative warmth is, besides, a more and more regrettable fault in her, each time you hear her. With a voice that has a congenial tone, and good in ensembles, with a very worthy skill, a scrupulous artistic perception, and a graceful physique, Mlle Sulzer nevertheless achieves only incomplete effects, for lack of warming all these qualities with a bit of sacred fire. She could, with some willingness, be something more than acceptable, and in general she's only that.

     The week was a triumphant one for Mazzoleni, who didn't leave the trenches for a single moment. To sing, four times in six days, rôles like those in Roberto, Rigoletto and Norma is a tour de force that a triply robust tenor could accomplish on his own. But Mazzoleni hasn't only proven that he has solid lungs; he exhibited a true talent and artistic resources that some people had had doubts about until now. The role of Roberto, which isn't in his usual style of singing, could have become a stumbling-block for him; he made it a victory, by the outstanding, one could almost say unhoped-for, way in which he sang. His duet with Elizabeth and his prison aria were sung with an attention to nuances, a delicacy of expression all the more remarkable because the music of Verdi, which is his specialty, isn't exactly the school in which one learns to sing Donizetti. . . . "

“The second performance of ‘Roberto Devereux’ last evening was witnessed by an audience that lacked the numbers of the opening night, and was not superior in point of appreciation.  The best morceaux were missed; no one saw their point; no one seemed to know that they were the gems of the opera.  Nevertheless there was a slightly warmer appreciation of the leading artists, who, we may here state, were in capital voice.  Signor Bellini fortunately was not in the caste, so there was no disappointment.  His rôle was sustained—and without rehearsal—by Signore Yppolito.  The effort was in every respect creditable to that artist.”

      The second performance of Roberto Devereux was--as should have been expected--infinitely superior to the first.  Part of the audience, already familiarized with the score, carried along the other part with their applause.  The artists in their turn, feeling themselves better understood and more supported, rediscovered a fullness of self-assurance that they had been lacking the first night. They didn't have against them, any more, the disarray caused Monday by M. Bellini's almost total vocal incapacity. He was replaced by M.  Ypolito, who accomplished a real tour de force, in singing in a suitable, often even outstanding manner a role that he hadn't even rehearsed.. 

      From all of this emerged an excellent and animated evening. The first act, notably, glittered with great brightness in the four principal pieces. The second, without attaining the same height, was well-sustained. Act III was a triumph for Mme Medori. 

     After this performance, there's room to think that the opera could reappear in the repertoire with benefit at some time or another.

     The hall was, moreover, well-filled and radiant.

Well attended. Signor Bellini was still hoarse and had to be replaced by Signor Hippolito who managed the role well enough with some insecure parts. Medori, Sulzer and Mazzoleni received a lot of applause and flowers again. The highlight of the opera, the Grand Finale of the 3^rd act which we consider the best and musically most valuable part, was sung very well again last night.

“‘Roberto Devereux’ was not a success, and the second performance was received as tamely as the first.  This result is attributable mainly to Signor Bellini, who has the misfortune to be always sick when any special effort is expected at his hands.  The rôle which he had to abandon on Wednesday night is one of the strong features of the opera, and would have displayed his grand voice to the greatest perfection.  As it was the public yawned, felt disappointed, and went home grumbling about Donizetti, forgetting that it was the singer, and not the composer, who was at fault.  On Wednesday the ‘house’ was neither so full nor so brilliant as on the opening night.”