PRIMITIVE OPERA

Evening Star, Issue 20132, 23 March 1929, Page 17

PRIMITIVE OPERA

GIVING ITALY A MISS WORKS THAT ARE UNRECOGNISABLE PRIVATE QUARREL SETTLED ON THE STAGE. [Written by Geokgk CTcjl, for tho ‘Evening Star.’] Italy has long been the “Land of Song,” but every year is marked by an increased deterioration in Hie quality of the singing, this lamentable state of things especially applying to primitive opera as performed in small towns. Nor, for that matter, arc capable artists the rule elsewhere—so much goes by favour, especially where the, women singers arc concerned, that many of tho third-rate performers who appear have not been engaged upon their merits. It also must be remembered that the best artists, except for an occasional appearance at tho Scale and elsewhere, give Italy a miss. American dollars and Covent Garden pounds luring these song-birds, _ they arc not inclined to accept ill-paid engagements in their native land and to put up with tho off-hand treatment accorded by the average impresario to singers. America in the winter and .London in tho summer is their ambition. Although nothing can- exceed the applause of an Italian audience when it really is pleased, outside the opera house the artists—even those of standing—receive little consideration. Socially, they are beyond the pale, tho humorous populace alluding to them as “dogs”; the shelter for aged singers, endowed by Verdi, for example, is known ivs the “ dogs’ home.” Should Italians of good family adopt the operatic career, their scandalised relations look down upon them. “ CUTS ” RESENTED. At the Scala (with its subsidy from the municipality of Milan and from tho boxholdcrs) and in ■ certain other theatres of note, satisfactory performances usually take place. Elsewhere, however, the opera which is being given may be unrecognisable, owing to the wholesale “ cuts ” introduced by the ennductoi'—and in the. interests of incapable singers. ‘ll Trovatore ’ without “II Balen ” and “Di quel I a pirn,” certainly is abominably mutilated, but if the baritone possesses no G, and if the short-voiced tenor is without a C. the conductor, whose word is law, has no other course. The lengthy “ Cerchcro lontana terra ” and tho’"’ exacting nottnrno, “ Tornami a dir,” in ‘Don Pnsqualc,’ arc omitted, should the music be too far beyond the aspiring tenor’s means. Sometimes omissions such as the above goad the primitive audioncj to madness Threatening to break tho scats and to annihilate the conductor, who has lied the scene, they clamour for the instant restitution of the music which has been •cut ” The unfortunate Manrico thereupon does his best with “ Di quell.* pirn”; Ernesto, though well aware that ho cannot last out the ‘Don Pasqnale ’ aria, courageously tackles it. The listeners are partly appeased, for their demands have been complied with. but. the performance being poor, they howl nbimo at the impresario Tii iis docs tho Latin temperament manifest itself. , .

Less exception is taken to omissions which concern the scratch chorus, recruited from the market place, the lihdmavs and the byways. 1 he tenors arid basses may. forgetting their parts, or being incapable of learning them, sing the soprano line, while the majority of the choristers have no idea, or co’ninu; in at the right place. “ Let the little doses bark as they please,” savs the indulgent and scornful audience. " Wo pay attention only to the larger dogs, the principals. for them our approval—or scorn.” CORKS AND NUTS CAUSE A TUMULT. That highlv entertaining impresario, J. H. Mapleson. in his ‘Memoirs,’ tells how in the Lodi Theatre every box was furnished with a tiny kitchen, in order that the occupants might cook macaroni and fry pastry whenever they felt so inclined/ Wine "flowed, the performers.. between the acts, drinking then' patrons’ health, and. if nervous, fortifying themselves for the coming ordeal. Nowadays, the hungry ones must do all cooking at home; but the management places no check on the consumption of wine, oranges, and nuts during the performance. Only when a heel comes down too heavily on a nut, thus interfering with the„ music, arc expostulations heard, the artists’ partisans furiously insisting that the disturber of the pence bo thrown out. Sometimes the cork of a. Chianti bottle leaves its tight receptacle with a loud report, always choosing a particularly inopportune moment, ast for instance, when a tenor with a resonant upper C is about to electrify his admirers. This recently happened upon the Faust of the occasion reaching the culminating point in “ Salve climora ” : the C lolt his lips and the cork quitted the bottle simultaneously. A local music critic was the offender, a thirsty, soulless hog. _ Luckily for the singers, the provincial audience will put up with a good deal. A pronounced tremolo, forced upper notes, faulty phrasing, poor acting, and ridiculous costumes'evoke no unfavourable Press comment. Indeed, the performers, as in Paris, generally provide the critic (who is the newspaper’s advertisement canvasser) with a laudatory screed which they have themselves written'. The, stipulated number of lire changes hands; the highly-coloured advertisement masquerades as a criticism. Both parties are satisfied. A TOO ZEALOUS STAGE CARPENTER. In the very small theatres, of which there are many, the, stage carpenter often takes a minor role. Wagner, in ‘Faust,’ for example, reccnlly was allotted to one of these indispensable people, with the result that the audience and the singers joined in laughing uproariously. During his little scene with Valentino, Wagner, ignoring the part entrusted_ to him, and keeping an eye on the insecurely constructed scenery, suddenly left the careusers, making a bee-line for the wings. A very alert chorister, hoping no doubt for promotion, sang the line following the'words “ Resta qui sui mio cor,” declaimed by Valentino. Scarcely, however, had the .understudy of the occasion stopped into the breach, than a strident voice was heard: “Ass! Son of an ass! Did 1 not tell thee to hold

up the scenery by the beer table! See. it already is about to lull! The lault is (bine! Hold it-up, idiot!” The back cloth was observed to quiver; a few seconds later the stage carpenter and lu’s assistant rolled on to the scene, gripping each other’s throats. As the curtain was discreetly rung down, one of the belligerents was seen to brandish a stiletto. He probably used it. The managers of these barnlike, off-tho-map theatres permit conditions which are more than primitive. The audience shouts greetings to favoured performers; the conductor stops the orchestra, and kindly hums the music which the singer has forgotten; rehearsals having been limited, entrances and exits are hopelessly mixed. -Still, the performance is entertaining.