NEW YORK.
The second night of Il Pirata, Bellini’s serious opera, found us at the Richmond-hill theatre. The first representation of all musical pieces we consider as little more than a last rehearsal; for the singers are generally nervous, and the band over cautious. Critics ought to take such a state of things into consideration, and prefer the second night for the exercise of their vocation. In a country as young in music as America, it may be a matter of doubt whether the omission of some of the earlier authors be wise on the part of the manager; and whether, in leaping over the heads of Cimarosa, Mozart, and Rossini, and fixing upon Mercadante and Bellini, he does not resemble a school-master placing Sallust and Terence in the hands of a boy who has not completed Cæsar and Cornelius Nepos; or rather, are we not likely to fall into the error of a sapient critic who discovered, when he saw Kean, that he was an imitator of Booth?—Now there are many juvenile amateurs in this city, who, to our knowledge, have never heard La Gazza Ladra; but who have heard Elise e Claudio; and unless they pay good attention to chronology, they may make a discovery, that Rossini has borrowed numerous passages from Mercadante, because one of those authors decidedly has borrowed from the other. Another observation we shall address to the direttore of the concern: instead of learned and dry operas, which afford delight to professional persons only, let him diligently seek works with lively melodious music, interesting and clear plots, and fine scenery. He has in the public but an infant to nurse, and it will take honey in preference to olives. Allowing that the inhabitants of New York are as fond of music as those of London, which we fully believe, let it be remembered that very few of the higher classes of society in the latter city would be tied down to sit night after night in public boxes, to hear the same opera throughout, overture and all. By no means would they submit to it; they enjoy the luxury of private boxes which are so many boudoirs, in which society is received: nor do we know any more agreeable lounge than the Italian Opera House in London, where individuals, who have a taste for music without understanding it as a science, can drop in at any particular hour for the sake of hearing a particular morceau by Pasta, Sontag, Malibran, or any other star; and can, either previous to its commencement or after its performance, while away the time in conversation with friends, without disturbing those professionals and amateurs who are riveted to every note. This cannot take place in public boxes. There is, likewise, the addition of a ballet in London; and a number of persons, particularly male bipeds, find it the sole attraction. We think that the above is sufficient cause for advising the management of the Italian opera, (in the absence of ballet and converzatione,) to render their performance as pleasing and light as possible to their subscribers; for, be it remembered, that the Italians themselves not only talk and see dancers caper at their opera houses, but actually sup in their boxes; and, when it is considered that they can understand every word that is sung, and feel the sentiment as well as hear the harmony and melody of the music, surely some little compassion ought to be taken on Brother Jonathan, who drinks in sweet sounds, and has to guess at their meaning equally with Brother Bull.
The overture to this opera is beautiful and effective in a high degree. It commences with a spirited, dashing movement for a few bars, something after the style of Auber’s Masaniello; it is then followed by a more subdued movement, in which the basses are pizzicati; and here we remark that the only fault we could find with the overture was the want of bass. We once stated that a double bass and violoncello were not sufficient, and the increase of the band in other respects causes this fault to become more apparent; ergo, the pizzicato movement appeared feeble. The quick movement is a bold allegro, leading away in a minor mood, well worked up throughout. Altogether, the overture is original; and, to our thinking, the finest composition this band has yet performed. The orchestra contains, at present, twenty-six musicians; and we do not hesitate to state, that is now as good a band as was ever heard in America; and, if another double bass and violoncello are added, as we hear is in contemplation, it would be a fair orchestra in any part of Europe. The opening symphony and chorus, Ciel, qual procella orribile, during a storm and shipwreck, at once assured us that we were under the influence of a great and original master; and when we reflected that he was but twenty-four years old when the opera was composed, our admiration increased. Throughout there is a firm and leading bass, which progresses according to the old master’s style, more than we are accustomed to hear in modern compositions. The instrumentation is splendid, and the management of the wind instruments, particularly, reminds us strongly of Weber. Indeed we have the German school continually before us. Mr. Montresor has a part better suited to his voice than any we have yet heard him in. His first aria, Nel furor delle tempeste, was admirably led by a clarionet solo. Monsieur Guilleaud is an artist, and Mr. Montresor sang the aria well. We adhere to our original opinion, that he is the best instructed singer in the company. We must be excused from using the jargon now in fashion among the press. We cannot see why a company of Italians are to be called a troupe; nor why the ladies and gentlemen are to act roles. There is mystification enough to the generality of readers in the technicalities we are obliged to use, and which we address to well read amateurs and professional men alone, without hunting for French words to put in the place of plain English. The part of Imogene was acted beautifully by Pedrotti. Her singing was exceedingly good. Her voice is an organ of great power and good quality, and her forte is expression. Her scena and duetto with Fornasari were very finished. Her mad scena, in the last act, was highly creditable to her. Indeed we have very little fault to find. If we must point out any defect, it would be occasionally a clumsiness of execution, and a failure in the attempt at the chromatic scale; but who can do it? For one fault she has twenty beauties, particularly in her acting; and the use of her arms and hands is most easy and graceful. Fornasari is certainly a very good looking man, with a very fine voice; but there is a tremour about it continually, and his progression from note to note is imperfect. In certain passages we were delighted with him, in others greatly disappointed. In his principal song, and in several leading passages in the duet with Imogene, we really were at a loss to know what he intended to convey to the audience. He made a curious sound in his throat, in which two notes only were perceptible. It could not have been intended for a shake, we are tolerably sure; and we set it down as being meant for an active passage of some sort, in which he wished to show his agilità; but vox faucibus hæsit. This gentleman’s education as a vocalist has undoubtedly been neglected; but nature has been highly bountiful to him. The costume was well preserved. Fornasari’s second dress was a picture. The female chorus was weak, the male chorus good, but not correct. The finale to the first act is a composition of very superior merit.
The scenery is excellent. The artist’s forte, we think, is architectural design; and we have noticed that Italian scene-painters generally excel in that department. This is an opera which will afford the professor profitable amusement, and the well-informed amateur delight; but we have an unpleasant, lurking suspicion, that it savours more of the olive than the honey; and, therefore, may not be so readily swallowed as some other operas; at least we fear that the ‘most respectable public,’ as the manager terms them, will prove our suspicion just, and we are sure that they ought not to do so. Mr. Lorenzo Daponte has got a very curious flourish in the books of the opera, in which he says: ‘we sigh no more for Malibran!’ and an enormous puff for the Italian artists in general, making some comparisons which had been better let alone. He says that the company procured by him shall merit the gratitude of the public; that we must all learn Italian without delay; and that he has got a gentleman in the person of one Dr. Montresor, who will assist him in teaching us. Very well, if it must be so, anything to oblige him, and viva la musica! We have omitted to mention a well imagined trio between Pedrotti, Montresor, and Fornasari, which we believe to be composed by Mr. Bagioli, the conductor. It does him great credit, and gives us a high opinion of his musical talents. There is scarcely a more effective piece in the opera.
On Thursday, Miss Hughes took her benefit, and a new opera called Nadir and Zuleika was produced; the music partly selected, partly composed by Mr. Horn. Of course, the piece is of an eastern character. The music is light, pretty, and well suited to the sentiment. The plot is rather extravagant; turning upon no less than the opium day-dream of Nadir, a young gentleman who has expressed a wish to become acquainted with the lovely houris, or black-eyed beauties of Mahomet’s heaven; and this being overheard by Zuleika, a young lady who imagines that her charms are sufficient to ensure him a terrestrial paradise, she resents his conduct by dosing him and his servant with opium; and then gets up a scene during his bewilderment, which causes him to believe, that he really has thrown off ‘this mortal coil,’ and is in possession of his wish. A number of droll circumstances and situations arise, which we have not space to dwell on: suffice it to say, that it is a lively operetta of the Abon Hassan species; and, like that piece, has an admirable part for Placie, which he makes the most of; indeed, he is extremely droll, and kept the house in constant laughter. The overture is composed by Fétis, a person who stands high as a critic in Paris, and editor of a musical journal. Mr. Horn has likewise used the chorus Tacete non temete, by Mercadante, as found in his opera Le Nonne de Gamache. It is also introduced in Elise e Claudio. To this he has added a second subject skilfully, and, we think, has increased its effect. A ballad, founded on a Swiss air, sung by Miss Hughes, is a charming little gem; and was executed by her extremely well, and deservingly encored. She had likewise a bravura, with a corno and clarinette accompaniment. The former instrument was clumsily managed, the latter had not enough to do; but Herwig never fails in his part; and what he had to play was perfect. We do not admire this bravura; the divisions are common-place, and such as we have heard five hundred times with all the clap-traps and gallery-delights commonly used; but Horn has instrumented the song with his usual ability. Jones has two songs, both good; the last a very beautiful air, too chaste perhaps to please the multitude; but it comes in a bad situation, directly after the former noisy song. Another place should be found, or dialogue introduced between the two. The choruses are pleasing, and they sang, particularly the ladies, admirably. Richings sustained the character of Vivienne, a French officer brought into the east—we really forget for what purpose. He acted naturally, and there was nothing in the concerted music beyond his capability. After the opera, the excellent piece of ‘Ways and Means’ was performed; and between the acts the band played out of the book number six, which the house immediately recognized, and hissed most profoundly. Horn’s pretty ballad, the Mermaid’s Cave, followed, sung by Miss Hughes, and accompanied by himself; it was received with its usual éclat. The opera of John of Paris concluded the evening, which was done much more perfectly than before.—(New York Mirror.)