On Thursday the 2nd of May, Madame PASTA reappeared, after an absence of two seasons, in Anna Bolena, an opera indebted for its continued existence solely to her performance: in ordinary hands it could not have survived one night in London. This admirable performer is just what she was, in person, voice, and action; and we have only to refer our readers to the opinions we have formerly given on the subject, for those entertained by us now. She was received by a crowded house in the warm manner that her great and yet unabated talents gave her a right to expect.
Tancredi was the second opera got up for Madame PASTA, and in this she afforded even more pleasure to real connoisseurs than in the part of Anna Bolena, for the music is not only goad, but to be reckoned among ROSSINI’s best. Her entrata was splendid; the recitative ‘Oh! Patria!’ and aria, ‘Tu che accendi,’ with its popular second movement, were perfect. Madame CINTI’s Amenaide was, as regards singing, not less excellent; and her very different voice, so far from being a disadvantage on the present occasion, operated favourably, by giving a greater individuality to each character. RUBINI’s Argirio was a continued series of roulades, except when, by sudden bursts of his voice, he made those near him start, and by pianos alternating with these, he became inaudible to all but such as he had alarmed by his sforzatos. We have never entertained but one opinion of this singer, who has been so vaunted in the French journals, and find that an able contemporary agrees with us. The Spectator says of this performer, that—
‘Of true feeling he has not a particle. Per esempio—when he visits his daughter in prison and in chains, and she asks—
‘Tu quì, o padre! a che vieni?’
his reply was delivered with as much indifference and flippancy as if the question had related to the weather, or the last new bonnet; and yet the words are these—
‘———— ad abbracciarti;
A seguirti alla tomba. In sen di padre
Si tenta in vano suffocar natura.’
The truth is, that with singers like Rubini, the art of dramatic singing is a mere effort of the muscles; with Pasta, one of the mind.’
ZUCHELLI had but little to do, but did that well. Many changes were made in the opera; original pieces were left out, strange and not appropriate ones put in, just as the caprice of the singers dictated; and the choruses were wretched. Il Pirata, another old opera, is getting up, and this is certainly Bellini’s best work; indeed the only one of his known to this theatre that has the smallest merit.