OPERATIC NOTES.
Tuesday, May 19.—With pleasant recollections of MARIE ROZE and BARTON McGUCKIN, and, as I think, a Mr. SCOBELL playing the swaggering relative, I went to see Manon, at Covent Garden, Miss SIBYL SANDERSON being the Heroine, and M. VAN DYCK the Hero.
(Ensemble.) "Nous irons au Guildhall!"
M. Van D. "Voilà la voiture du Lor' Maire, grace à M. Le Sheriff Druriolanus."
Manon. "Comme il est gentil! Je n'attendais qu'un 'Van.'">[
The new prima donna has everything in her favour, and very soon she was in favour with the audience, but not in such high favour as was the tenor with the artistic name, who, fairly taking the audience by assault, constituted himself, pro tem., the man in possession of the ear of the House. He is a success; as a young master bearing the name of so distinguished an Old Master should be. [Query, would it be rude to say to a really good Van Dyck, "You go and be hung!" Perhaps the learned Editor of Musical Notes and Queries will reply. Of course much depends on the frame.] As for the new soprano SIBYL—more power to her organ! Her acting was good, but not great, and what ought to be her song par excellence went for nothing, or, at least, it could have been bought very cheap. There is far more dialogue in Manon than a Covent Garden audience is accustomed to, and this superfluity is resented by those who come for the singing, and who, if any talking is to be done, like to do it themselves. The three young ladies who go about together as a perpetual trio, suggest the notion of a light and airy version, feminine gender, of the three Anabaptists in the Prophète. M. ISNARDON as Des Grieux, père, a character that might be operatically nearly related to Germont, père, in La Traviata, was impressively dramatic, but decidedly disappointing in his one great song, which ought to be a certain encore. It may be true that an opera intended for a small stage does not stand a fair chance of success on a large one, and vice versâ, as no doubt the LORD MAYOR's coach provided by DRURIOLANUS SHERIFFUS for the occasion would look absurd on the stage of the Opéra Comique, while here when it comes round to the gate to fetch Des Grieux, it creates as great a sensation as ever it would do in the Strand on the Ninth of November, even with the Sheriff inside it.
Wednesday.—Speaking as an opera-goer of some thirty years' sitting, I am inclined to assert that the performance last Wednesday of Les Huguenots beats the record, as will be allowed by all whose memory runneth not to the contrary, "nevertheless" and "notwithstanding" being included. Except MARIO, as Raoul, and some add, except DORUS GRAS as the Queen, never was seen and heard so fine a performance as is this to-night; and this deponent witnesseth that no such ensemble has ever been seen for this really grand Opera. Strange to hear sweet little Manon one night, and the next these overpowering Huguenots. It is well worth the while, in Mr. Punch's pages, to record this exceptionally brilliant cast. First, Madame ALBANI for the heroine Valentina, superb alike in singing and in acting; GIULIA RAVOGLI as Urbano, the page, a memorable page in operatic history; Conte di San Bris, by M. LASSALLE, not to be bettered, as may be also said of Signor MIRANDA (by kind permission of SHAKSPEARE's Tempest, probably a descendant) as De Retz, afterwards converted, and appearing as Il Padre Basso, Superior of a Theatrical Order, one of the exceptional Orders admitted after seven. Then M. MAUREL, with his highly Maurel tone, cannot be beaten as the high-minded Conte de Nevers; and EDOUARD DE RESZKÉ, taken altogether—and there's a lot of him—is quite the best Marcello that has been heard and seen for some considerable time. Herr FORMES and MABINI were the rugged Huguenot soldier to the life, but they weren't the Harmonious Blacksmith that NED DE RESZKÉ is. JEAN DE RESZKÉ methinks lacketh impassioned tenderness in the great duet scene, where ALBANI is inimitable; otherwise JEAN is a gallant Raoul. Ensemble as already said, which term includes chorus, mise-en-scène, and orchestra under the energetic rule of Signor BEVIGNANI, simply perfect. Those who this season miss seeing Les Huguenots with this unexampled cast, will be justly upbraided by their children and grandchildren. Mr. COVENT-GARDENIA HALL with the Gladstone flower in his button-hole, almost weeps to think that his much-loved leader is unable to come from Dollis Hill and bestow his liberal praise upon Les Huguenots. DRURIOLANUS may well beam upon the crammed house, viewing a portion of it with his nose over the ledge of the stall gangway portal; well may he smile, hum the melodies to himself (what better audience can he have for the performance!) expand in full bloom and speak joyously out of the very fulness of his heart and pocket; nay, for the moment he may even look upon the sheriffship and all its glory as a mere vanity of vanities, in comparison with the proud position of being DRURIOLANUS OPERATICUS MAGNIFICISSIMUS, who has given opera-goers this new and rare edition of Les Huguenots. The gloved hand and the lorgnette of H.R.H. are visible in the omnibus-box, where our music-loving Prince is happily congratulating himself on another little FIFE being added to the harmonious Royal Band, while the loyal public is mightily pleased thus to have it proved to ocular demonstration, that the subtle villain, Influenza, has been baulked in his traitorous attempt on the Royal Personage, and they sincerely hope that the insidious poisoner, being thus arrested in his course, may, with all his treacherous bacilli, be for ever banished this happy and generally healthy realm.