Devil’s Auction

Tomorrow evening, irrevocably, the first performance of L’Encan du Diable at Banvard’s theater. We will finally have a fairyland copied from the Parisian spectacles of this genre.

“A private rehearsal of this grand spectacular and magical féerie on Wednesday convinced the guests of Messrs. De Pol and Lawrence that, notwithstanding all the difficulties of bringing so complicated of machinery into operation, it contained the chief elements indispensable to success. . . .”

“It is a prose melo-drama in four acts, interspersed with singing and dancing. . . . The point of interest is, first, the dancing; next, the dancers, and last, the scenery. . . . The house last night was crowded to its utmost limit…”

No mention of music. 

“A Fresh Sensation is on the tapis—nothing less than ‘The Devil’s Auction,’ for the production of which, at Banvard’s Museum, have been ‘going’ on for some time. It was to have been produced for the first time on the 28th of September, but a postponement was rendered necessary in consequence of the complicated machinery, scenic effects, etc., not being completed.”

“The dancing at Banvard’s Theatre is the principle attraction. . . . The drama ran very smoothly last night, and, with Predigam’s [sic] music, will draw people up town for many a night to come.”

“We must speak to our readers about a great success, that of the pantomime [féerie] l’Encan du Diable, performed for the first time at the Banvard Theater the day before yesterday. The Black Crook henceforth has a rival, and a successful competitor, in the upper reaches of the city. They had claimed that the fortunate entrepreneurs at Niblo’s had organized a cabal against the new work, but such bad ideas have never been able to carry away our spirit. Without a doubt there were a few adversaries Thursday evening; the fast young fellows who only breathe for Niblo’s ladies can’t be well disposed toward their rivals; but the triumph couldn’t have been more dazzling, and the public had to bow before the great skill of Mlles Diani and Blasini, before the richness of the costumes and scenery, before the sculptural boldness of the impresarios. Reverend Smith has henceforth a new subject for preaching.

            We won’t talk about the scenario, which is taken from les Bibelots du Diable, a piece formerly done in Paris. The intrigues of these fantasies all resemble one another, and are all of a simplicity that touches on idiocy, while the dialogue absolutely serves only to give the scene-shifters time to prepare their effects. You go to a féerie for the pleasure to your eyes, and not to please your intellect.

            They have talked a lot about the [seemingly] real nudity in The Black Crook, and the Puritans have feigned being scandalized. May they go to l’Encan du Diable, and they will see that the reality is even more real than in Niblo’s ballet. They have to convene sculptors and all lovers of the plastic arts at this spectacle. M. Henri Taine assures us, in all his works on aesthetics and exegesis of art, that if the ancients have surpassed the moderns in statuary, it’s because they had nudes constantly before their eyes, in the gymnasiums, at the Olympic games, at the baths, etc. In the famous philosopher’s last work on Italy, it’s only a question of ‘beautiful nude bodies,’ ‘handsome nude young men,’ ‘beautiful nude women,’ ‘development and study of nude muscles,’ etc. The directors who expose ‘nude bodies’ are only returning to healthy and austere antiquity, and bring back art to its primitive purity. Yet the nude bodies of our time are covered with flesh-colored tights, while the nude bodies of the ancients were simply rubbed with oil.

            We will say more: the complete nudities that they exhibit today are much less indecent than the demi-nudities that delighted our fathers. We are worth decidedly more than our seniors, and virtue encroaches on the domain of vice every day. Skirts, underskirts and petticoats are only a stimulant for the imagination and, in stirring it up, they call forth desires and bad thoughts. No skirts at all, as we have seen on some of the Banvard’s dancers, and you don’t think of anything except the purity of line, the superiority of curve over fold, of sphere over triangle. Purely platonic images. We have an example of this truthfulness in the Bible. Adam didn’t think about the slightest frolicsomeness before the fatal fig-leaf. From the day that Eve put on that ornament, she became the mother of the human race.

            The dancers in l’Encan du Diable don’t have any need at all to be vindicated. Their success was complete and deserved. Mlle Blasini is an artist of the first order, such as there is none other currently in America. Her points and here jetés-battus indicate an extraordinary strength, strength that doesn’t exclude gracefulness and a perfect elegance of movement. She danced two steps [numbers?], in the second and third acts, which put her in the first rank of artists in M. de Pol’s company. Mlle Lapointe, with less [good] legs, has as much charm, and her high kicks won her a triple salvo of applause. Mlles Lupo, Seelke and Diani followed on the heels of these two brilliant stars. As for M. Lupo, he’s a dancer beyond compare, who pirouettes like a politician and turns around himself like a teetotum. For that, frantic applause. M. Lupo is a handsome lad, and he will help to attract ladies of great and small virtue to the Banvard, as the female dancers will serve as magnets for fans of curvy drawings.

            The corps de ballet, which in Paris they call the “gang of rats” or the “heavy artillery,” is admirably fashioned. The Amazons in the Eldorado tableau produced the most beautiful effect. In the same way, the Naiads of the Cascade [waterfall] tableau. All the revolving of these young ladies, the pride of our generation, did honor to M. Ronzani, the ballet-master. The difficulties are especially great as the backstage area is small: we’re talking about the wings. [Here, the reviewer is apparently making a play on words, as the “back” is given as “derrière”.] In effect, they had to rent out the back of a neighboring stable to serve as the green-room for the dancers. The stable is without tenants at present, but it is known to have sheltered, formerly, the camels that they later tried to acclimatize to Texas.

            As much as the corps de ballet does honor to M. Ronzani, so much will the scenery increase the fame of the MM. Calyo, father and son. We mention among others the Eldorado scene, that of the waterfall, the superb final apotheosis, the magnificent countryside, etc. etc. We have to say that some of the scene-changes were not as quick as could have been desired; but that’s the case with all the first performances of pantomimes. The orchestra was weak.

            We also have to praise the public, which has made great progress in the United States. Until now, on the New York stage, women weren’t like they are in [the rest of?] America, for they had never been uncovered. Today, it’s different, and the eyes are getting used to scenes about the beauties of Nature, the spirit becomes accustomed to admiring the creator in the creature. Devotion to beauty is an homage to the Divinity, and nothing carries us toward mysticism as the contemplation of perfect bodies, which makes us understand the anthropomorphism of almost all mythologies.

            The reverends, Smith and Cheever, can thunder from the height of their pulpits. Their satanic utterance will not prevail against the waves of civilization that Western Europe has sent out to the United States, of the type of the Duchesse de Gérolstein and l’Encan du Diable. In spite of those fanatics, the young folks will go to fashion their spirit and heart at the Banvard, happy to take lessons in design according to busts [sculpture]. In spite of them, the old men will persist in delighting in a spectacle capable of easily reclaiming the memory of their young years. Truth alone is lovable, and, we repeat, nothing is more real than what they are showing in l’Encan du Diable. It’s a complete success, and M. de Pol can count on an interminable series of performances.”

“To say the house was crowded or overflowing, is not expressing at all the reality--it was densely, thickly, closely filled, by one of the largest audiences ever seen in any theatre. There was considerable confusion, as well as dissatisfaction, occasioned by the ushers not knowing the locale of the numbered orchestra chairs, and the consequence was that scarcely any one had the seat his check called for. This caused trouble, and during the entire first two acts some of the ushers were quarreling with the occupants of chairs, trying to eject them. During the second scene of the first act, someone in the dress circle snapped a cap on a pistol, and for a few minutes excitement ran high. There was a rush in the circle of quite a number of ladies, who were anxious to get out, but order was soon restored, and ‘on went the show.’”