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“Le Caïd, by Ambroise Thomas, is a most brilliant operette bouffe. It does not abound in the popular airs with which Offenbach’s productions are replete, but contains many gems of melody and instrumentation, and scintillates with the light and sparkling music, whereof the composers of modern France are so prodigal. With the overture, which is familiar to every concert goer, the characteristic couplets of the basso, several sparkling duets, an aria for the soprano, and a dashing finale, make up the musical score.  Of a well drawn plot, the librettist of Le Caïd cannot boast. The two acts of the piece recount the love adventures of a Parisian drum-major and a French officier, whose intrigues are developed under the burning sun of Algeria, and the protection by the prestige of the tri-color flag. The mingled poltroonery and imbecility of the old caïd and the comicalities of a eunuch give brightness to the well known romance of love under difficulties, and the youthful swain who sighs for the hands of the modiste in exile, as well as the portly soldier who covets the heart of the Pasha’s daughter, are alike gratified by the final course of events. But on this canvas of rather coarse texture are so liberally broidered such sparkling melodies that the critic overlooks the flimsiness and inconsistencies of the play and drinks in the flood of harmony poured forth by the composer. The production of Le Caïd last evening offered unusual interest, inasmuch as the opera was given for the first appearance of Mlle. Bonconsiglio, who sang the music allotted to Virginie, the tender-hearted milliner. It is hardly possible to pass judgment conclusively upon the merits of the new comer, who suffered cruelly from the nervousness to which claimants to public favor, in their early efforts to attain distinctions, are always subject. Mlle. Bonconsiglio’s voice is a mezzo-soprano of good quality and evenness, rather powerful, but not of very great compass, the lower notes being very unreliable. In its management the singer proved it to have been carefully trained but displayed a want of recent practice which the exigencies of the repertoire will soon supply. These are the only impressions which could be formed of Mlle. Bonconsiglio’s qualities, the trying ordeal of a first appearance having evidently deprived her of self-confidence. Still, she vocalized very pleasantly, and was frequently applauded. The character of Birotteau is well suited to M. Anthelme. He sang and acted with the skill of a veteran and the brio of a youth. M. Edgard performed the part of the old eunuch, and by burlesquing the Cerberils of the harem afforded no little amusement. Mr. Vert played with as much animation as usual, but frequently sang out of tune. His couplets in the first act, were, however, well given. The other characters were assumed by Mlle. Laurentis and M.M. Walter and Francis. The chorus was well schooled, but shouted as mechanically as ever, and the orchestra more than once drowned the voices by a monstrously noisy performance. The opera was put on the stage with great care, and will bear as many repetitions as Le Maître de Chapelle, which last evening preceded it on the bill and introduced M.M. Wilhelm and Edgard and the most charming of dugaloos, Mlle. Laurentis.”

THEATRE FRANCAIS. –“The first performance of Le Caid attracted a dense crowd the day before yesterday at the hall on Fourteenth Street. The attraction of a new piece for New York was joined with the interest that a debut, that of Mlle Bonconsiglio, aroused. 

The Mâitre de Chapelle, that always-young masterpiece, served as the curtain-raiser. M. Wilhelm has never sung the great aria, that is worth a whole opera, better. The duet that follows, with Mlle Laurentis, was rendered no less well, and the two artists were called back when the curtain fell. The truth is that Mlle Laurentis is charming in the role of Gertrude, which one would say was made expressly for her: her roguish look, her unruly demeanor, her fresh and clear voice, all are suited in her to the character of the servant of the old maestro, always amply provided with a supply of tricks and merriment. It’s in these sparkling roles, careless, mocking, where feelings are only touched upon and fill up the stream of an inexhaustible spirit of good humor, that Mlle Laurentis is superior, and the skill that she displays explains and justifies the reputation that she possesses in New York. Mlle Laurentis only has to let herself be carried on the wave of success; she has become, naturally and without effort, the indulged child of the public. 

Let’s move on to the Caid. We don’t know if this absurd and amusing fantasy would have pleased the American audience, but it is certain that the music was appreciated by all. It is strange that Ambroise Thomas, the most melancholy man on earth, who pushes gloominess to the point of hypochondria, the author of Raymond, of Songe and of Psyché, would succeed at the first attempt, and at this point, in comic opera music. He has made us see, in the Caid, everything that a man of wit, aided by incomparable learning and a profound knowledge of all schools of composition, can do. Without doubt, the liveliness of the Caid isn’t that free and sparkling gaiety of Crispino or L’Italiana in Algeri; the burst of laughter there is more far-fetched, but it’s certainly an admirable pastiche, which often comes to equal its models.

Mlle Bonconsiglio, who debuted in the role of the milliner transplanted into the middle of the Bedouins, has a natural, rather strong mezzo-soprano voice. In her first aria, Comme la fauvette, it was clear that fear was paralyzing her resources, in part, which made her hasten the movement. Altogether reassured by the audience’s sympathetic reception, she was able to deploy her good qualities and her faults at her ease in the duet M. Birotteau, je l’espère, etc. Her accomplishments are a great flexibility in her voice and an ease of vocalization. Her faults are forcing the flat notes, and to be too conscious of the passage from medium to high notes, in sometimes flattening the sound in a way that removes all the fullness. We know that many opera singers have used this technique, Mme Ugalde among others, and precisely in the Caid, but this procedure doesn’t always charm the ear, and it risks a [illegible—“break”? . . .] in the [illegible—“register”?. . .] of the person who employs this type of emission. Mme Ugalde, whom we have cited, is proof of this.

The stumbling-block in the role of Virginie in the Caid is the second-act aria, very long and bristling with difficulties and vocal acrobatics. The debutante pulled this off to her honor and to the complete satisfaction of the public. The cantabile Plaignez, plaignez la pauvre jeune fille was sung with great accuracy and remarkable expressiveness. The end of the air wasn’t sung any less well; one could note the defects that we pointed out earlier, but the spirit and the warmth of the singer didn’t fail to carry away the audience. In the trio Il me délaisse, Mlle Bonconsiglio was perfect.

This artist acts very well, and she is upon the whole an excellent acquisition for our theater. No doubt she will be better in proportion as she becomes more accustomed to our scene. It will be easy for her, excellent musician that she appears to be, to correct those imperfections that we believe we’ve noticed in her: these are not faults of nature, they are defects of technique. Mlle Bonconsiglio, with Mlles Naddie and Laurentis, contributes to form a charming trio of singers, who will surely not be the least successful workers in our national theater. 

M. Anthelme was much appreciated in the role of Birotteau. Every day, this artist reveals new qualities as an actor. At his debut, one could fear that he would be a rather cold performer; the Caid showed him to us as active, sharp, and as completely as possible in the spirit of his role. At the Opéra Comique of Paris, the role was, so to speak, sacrificed by Ponchard, who was deprived of any kind of voice: M. Anthelme is without contradiction much superior. 

M. Vert showed, in the role of drum-major, the unevennesses that are familiar to him. In sum, he was quite acceptable. M. Edgard, saddled with the scabrous role of the eunuch, overly exaggerated a character that is already loaded enough by itself. Our comedian has too often crossed the narrow limit that separates buffoonery from stunts. His success in that has been perhaps too great, but has he gone too far this time? Ne quid nimis [less is more], even in burlesque. The charming verses Je suis gourmand comme une chatte would have gained by being sung a bit more, all the while keeping their allure with a broken and wavering voice. The repeated applause of the audience seems to prove our valuation wrong, but we believe the bravos would have been altogether as numerous if M. Edgard had given a little more restraint to his portrayal. M. Walter was a very suitable Aboulifar. 

The role of Fatma isn’t there to add luster to Mlle Laurentis’s skills: it hardly exists. There’s nothing more insipid than the ballad Je veux lui plaire. In the duet with Puits d’Amour, she has only a secondary part. The advantage of our theater, organized as it is, is that this role of Fatma, always played by understudies in Paris, is entrusted to a star here, and the ensemble can only profit by it.

A propos the thing as a whole, the Caid couldn’t have gone better. The production, which wasn’t commodious in the first act, was utterly elaborate. The costumes are magnificent; those of Fatma’s followers in the second act are splendid in their richness and luster; the chorus members are dressed like major characters. One knows that M. Deligne attends to these details, whose importance escaped no one. The chorus was well-trained, and got the most out of the amusing hubbub in the second-act finale. The ardor of the orchestra always needs to be moderated a bit. 

We predict a long life to the Caid in New York, and we are convinced that the management will be amply repaid for the considerable expense that went into producing this opera. The Caid is made for restoring to good humor the most [illegible]. . . gaiety of those whose character is naturally jovial. We have addressed some criticism to M. Edgard, but we defy the most ferociously morose person to remain serious at the simple sight of the comedian costumed as Ali-Bajou.” 

"Though not of musically high quality, “Le Caid” is an attractive and entertaining work, and it has a surprising abundance of melodies. Certainly, not everything is creative (in the score), however, it is obvious that the composer went to a good school and was thus able to use what he learned tastefully. Buonconsiglio has a bigger mouth than voice. Anthelme proved again what an efficient and useful singer he is. Juignet’s institution deserves much support for he leads it with noticeable conscientiousness."