Draper English Opera: The Rose of Castille

            ‘Balfe’s florid work improves on repetition and judicious cutting down. A very large audience attended the second representation at the Brooklyn Academy of Music on Tuesday night. The orchestra, which on the first night at the French theatre dragged and mutilated the opera in such a manner that even passable singing was out of the question, was very different under the direction of Mr. Dietrich. There was graduated power and expression instead of the mechanical, listless and amateurish manner in which the orchestral parts were rendered on Wednesday last. Miss Richings had a most trying, and in many respects a most tedious role, and we hardly think it just of an audience to insist on an encore after every air. The fact that she bore up without faltering to the end is a sufficient proof of her success. If the Queen of Castile [sic] ever had such an ordeal to pass through three acts of rondos, scherzo, trills, &c., we sincerely pity her. ‘The Convent Cell’ and ‘I’m but a simple peasant maid’ were the best airs that the composer afforded her. Miss Harrison had little to do or sing, but she made the most she could of it. Mr. Castle was a little too lackadaisical as the distinguished King of Leon, and Mr. Campbell too tame as an arch-conspirator. Their singing was admirable. Mr. Wylie is too light a tenor for even the trifling part of Don Sallust. The drinking song in the first act, the succeeding quartet, and the laughing trio and buffo duet in the second act, are the choicest morceaux in the entire opera. The choruses are poor and meaningless, especially ‘Fear not, though danger threatens.’ The finale to the first act is Verdi-ish and startling, but possesses some merit. The opera, however, was very different from the first night of its representation. It will be repeated to-night at the French theatre.

            The production of such an expensive work caused at first an increase in the prices of admission to be made by the management, but the prices have been lowered to the original standard since.” 

            “French Theatre.—Balfe's OPERA OF THE ‘Rose of Castile’ [sic] is far beyond the capacity of the company now playing at this establishment. It was a mistake to produce it. The theatre possesses no scenery, and the stage no discipline. The orchestra is mediocre; utterly incapable of presenting the ideas which the composer intends to present, and unable from lack of members to contribute even to the polyphony of a finale. Rightly placed or produced, the ‘Rose of Castile’ is one of the liveliest and most interesting operas now known to the stage. It is simple in construction. Each act contains a concerted piece or ballad, or scena, and a finale. If a statement has to be made by an actor on the stage it is borne upwards on a distinct theme played by the orchestra. The variety of these themes, the readiness with which they build up all small matters in a pleasing whole, show very agreeably the versatility and gaiety of the composer. In this country we are horribly ignorant of Balfe's music, and we are sorry that in this terrible ‘Rose of Castile’ we do not get a better insight of it. Simple as it is, the management of the French Theatre murders the composer’s intention. Practically the orchestra does all that can be expected of so small a force, but being small it is necessarily scratchy and unpleasant. Two players at least, are needed on any wind instrument to equalize and make homogeneous the tone. In the orchestra at this establishment there is but one instrument, and the effect may be imagined. It is not worth describing.

            The performance was as tame as an English earthquake. Mr. Campbell sang well, and won an encore. Mr. Castle was good, and Mr. Seguin acted admirably. Miss Zelda Harrison also appeared to advantage. With these scanty commendations our notice must cease. Miss Richings was utterly unable to sustain the role of Elvira. It was written for Miss Louis Pyne, who possessed all the executive power that the composer required. Miss Richings—who also has her good points in many substantial ways—lacks the facility to warble the roulades which unfortunately fell to her lot. The effort was painful, and being an effort was entirely unrewarded.

            There is hardly anything more to be said. But the occasion serves to make one or two remarks. English opera has been killed many times in this City, yet it ‘comes up’ every now and then with a show of success. To make it succeed thoroughly three things are necessary: the music as the composer wrote it, the singers to interpret it, an adequate orchestra, and a proper mise en scene. We believe that the singers can be found, but for the rest we have long looked in vain. Until the good time comes it will be best to satisfy ourselves with the melodious trifles of Mr. Eichberg, who pleases the public ear, and knows how to adapt himself to circumstances.”