Wehli/Katow Chamber Concert: 10th

     “The tenth [sic] concert . . . last evening was more largely attended than any previous concert. The house was fashionably filled. We have never heard these artists to more advantage. Mlle. de Katow played better than ever, and was received with great enthusiasm. Of Mr. Wehli’s performance we need only say that it was brilliant and as astonishing as usual. We have rarely seen an audience more enthusiastic. Every piece was encored. The vocalists were Mlle. Salvotti (soprano) and Signor Poulicchi (basso).” 

COMMENT: NYH review announces a concert on Friday, 3/17/65.  There is no evidence that performance took place.

     “None of the concerts hitherto given by Mr. Strakosch’s troupe was more enjoyable than that of last night. The vocalists of the evening, it is true, typifies mediocrity, to say the least, but the performances of  Miss de Katov [sic] and Mr. Wehli were certainly calculated to increase their reputation. The playing of the lady was full of freshness, earnestness and self-abandonment, while the exquisite taste with which she was dressed, added to her imposing personality, gave her almost the monopoly of the audience’s attention. The winged fingers of Mr. Wehli swept over the keys of the piano with his usually delicacy of taste, [illeg.] and refinement. The concert was altogether so acceptable to the audience that the ten selections on the programme were nearly extended to twenty by the warmly expressed wish for the repetition of each piece.”

     “The concert of Mdlle. De Katow and Mr. James M. Wehli last night at Niblo’s Saloon, was more largely attending than on any previous occasion, which proves that these artists are growing permanently in favor with the public.  Mdlle. De Katow played with more than her usual passion and feeling.  Expression is her forte and in that direction, we have rarely heard her superior on that instrument.  She carried the sympathies of her audience with her, and was honored with encored which she deserved.

     Mr. Wehli gives continued evidence of his thorough education and of his fine musical instruction.  His compositions by their graceful flow, their melody, fresh and pure, and their elegance of form, increase their charm with every hearing.  They image his style, they are a reflux of his feeling, they are thoughtful and tender, and in their delivery, he throws so much poetic coloring, he manages the contrasts with such exquisite tests, painting them, as it were, with the delicate hues of an added fancy, a grace born after the thought, that they seem fresh, from the master’s hand, after many repetitions. His playing is of the only true piano school, which includes among its disciples Dussek, Mozart, Carmer, Hallbrenner [Kalkbrenner?], Moschelles [sic], Beethoven, Hummel, Thalberg, and many other noble names, and Chopin and Gottschalk, with a mental difference, but an identical technique. He is a legitimist in the broadest sense, viewing executive ability, as the servant of Art, as the chisel in the hand of the disciple, to shape out the divine thought of the master, and not as many of our monster pianists, placing manual dexterity as an Idol in sight of all, with Art at its feet.

     This is the secret why the playing of Mr. Wehli never tires the hearers. It is not all blaze and rush—it is not all high lights; it has its neutral tints, its cool colors and its warm glow; it has its lights and shadows and its fine shades of feeling—in short it is a tone-picture whose touches betray the hand of a master, and whose power, by [illeg.] of sympathy, is unconsciously but surely acknowledged by all. On this occasion he excited the warmest admiration and the [illeg.] enthusiasm. Every piece was encored. Mr. Wehli has become accustomed to our American pianos which we believe are unequaled in the world, and we have rarely heard anything more exquisite than the [illeg.] he produced on Chickering’s superb grand piano. Nothing could be more truly vocal.

     Madame. P. A. Salvatti [sic] is, we presume in her pupil age. She has a clear voice, and may at some future day be fitted for public presentation. Signor Poulicchi is mysterious in his ways, and hard to find out. What he appeared to be doing with the recitative to ‘Infelice’ the audience was at a loss to understand—and so was he, evidently. The aria was sung passably well and no more. We admire Italian singers very much—they are indeed a band of brothers, [who?] were probably all born clapping their hands, for whenever a brother or sister Italian singer appears, be he or she good, bad or indifferent, they turn out in united strength and ornamenting the back of the room boisterously demand a repetition of every effort. This is a patriotic nuisance that should be abated.”