At this ebb-tide of music in New York there stood out in bold relief the venerable figure of Lorenzo da Ponte, the old idealist, the type of the world's dreamers, whose achievements are rarely recorded.
'World-losers and world-forsakers
On whom the pale moon gleams
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.'
Da Ponte had a dream. It was of a permanent Italian opera in New York, with himself as poet. The dream was not realized, but it had an important influence. After five years of endeavor da Ponte succeeded in inducing a French tenor named Montressor to undertake a season of opera at the Richmond Hill Theatre. The season opened in October 6, 1832, but failed after thirty-five performances. On the whole, it would seem that the company was a very good one, and it is hard to explain its failure except on the ground that New York audiences were still lacking in the faculty of appreciation. The orchestra was supposed to be the best that had yet been heard in the city, and, fortunately for New York, most of its members settled there after the failure of the enterprise. The operas performed during Montressor's season were Rossini's Cenerentola and L'Italiani in Algieri, Bellini's Il Pirata, and Mercadante's Elisa e Claudio.
Notwithstanding Montressor's failure, da Ponte still remained undaunted. He now determined that the thing really needed was an Italian opera house decked out with the same social halo as adorned the brilliant institutions of London and Vienna. He was right. The Metropolitan Opera House of to-day is just the sort of institution that da Ponte forecasted, and its success proves that the old dreamer was no bad prophet. Through his influence the Italian Opera House was built on the corner of Church and Leonard Streets at a cost of $150,000, and with the coöperation of many of the most eminent citizens. Evidently it was designed to appeal to the cream of the beau monde. We quote from the diary of Philip Hone, Esq., sometime mayor of New York:
'——The house is superb, and the decorations of the proprietors' boxes (which occupy the whole of the second tier) are in a style of magnificence which even the extravagance of Europe has not yet equalled. I have one-third of box No. 8; Peter Schermerhorn one-third; James J. Jones one-sixth; William Moore one-sixth. Our box is fitted up with great taste with light blue hangings, gilded panels and cornice, armchairs and a sofa. Some of the others have rich silk ornaments, some are painted in fresco, and each proprietor seems to have tried to outdo the rest in comfort and magnificence. The scenery is beautiful. The dome and the fronts of the boxes are painted in the most superb classical designs, and the sofa seats are exceedingly commodious.'
This resplendent institution was opened on November 18, 1833, under the joint management of da Ponte and the Chevalier Rivafinoli—the latter being, according to da Ponte, 'a daring, but imprudently daring, adventurer, whose failures in London and in Mexico and Carolina, were the sure forerunners of his failure in New York.' The season was advertised for forty nights, but there was a supplementary season of twenty-eight nights. In addition there were fifteen performances given in Philadelphia. Socially and artistically the season was a distinct success, but financially it was a failure. The operas performed were Rossini's La gazza ladra, Il barbiere di Siviglia, La donna del lago, Il Turco in Italia, Cenerentola and Matilda di Shabran, Cimarosa's Il matrimonio segreto, Paccini's Gli Arabi nelli Gallie, and an opera called La casa di Pendere, by the conductor, Salvioni.
During the same season there was also a period of English opera at the Park Theatre, where 'Cinderella,' 'The Barber of Seville,' 'The Marriage of Figaro,' 'Artaxerxes,' 'Masaniello,' 'John of Paris,' 'Robert the Devil' (adapted and arranged), and other works were produced with Mr. and Mrs. Wood as principal singers. 'The house,' according to the 'American Musical Journal,' 'was crowded nightly.' The management of the Park Theatre certainly presented a much more varied and catholic program than was furnished by the Italian Opera House; but we suspect shrewdly that variety was its chief distinction.
When Rivafinoli's enterprise collapsed, the Italian Opera House was taken over by Porto and Sacchi—the latter treasurer and the former one of the singers of the Rivafinoli company. The season opened on November 10, 1834, with Bellini's La Straniera, and during its short life Rossini's Eduardo e Christina, L'Inganno felice, L'Assedio di Corinto, and Mosé in Egitto were also produced. It collapsed with the sudden disappearance of the prima donna, Signora Fanti. The Signora's defection, however, was rather the occasion than the cause of its untimely end. One is tempted to say that the Italian Opera House suffered from too much Rossini. But the real secret of its failure lay in the fact that it was not in the fashionable section of the city. The lure of art, reinforced by rich silk ornaments and paintings in fresco, by 'superb classical designs' and 'exceedingly commodious' sofa seats did not prove sufficiently strong to draw society from the strictly defined path of its appointed orbit. The valorous old da Ponte pleaded eloquently, but in vain. Abyssus abyssum invocat, as he truly complained.
II
After a year of vacancy the Italian Opera House went to James W. Wallack, father of the famous John Lester Wallack, and after a year of the spoken drama it went up in smoke. For ten years Italian opera in New York was as dead as the English queen whose demise is her chief title to fame. But New York was not wholly barren of opera during those years. In 1837 came Madame Caradori-Allan from England to sing in oratorio, concert, and opera in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and elsewhere. She gave some operas at the Park Theatre in 1838, including Balfe's 'Siege of Rochelle,' Bellini's La Sonnambula, Rossini's Il Barbiere di Siviglia, and Donizetti's Elisir d'amore, all in English. Also in 1838 a company which Dr. Ritter calls 'the Seguin combination' gave some operatic performances at the National Theatre. He tells us that Rooke's opera, 'Amalie, or the Love Test,' was performed for twelve consecutive nights before crowded houses.[41]