DOI Heft:
November 4, 1882
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17753#0214
208
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[November 4, 1882c
Army and Leggy.
A “MERRY WAR” AND A LIVELY PIECE.
If the Merry War, at the Alhambra, were played hy the Lively-
Piece-Comedy Company, and if Rip, at the Comedy, were played by
the Alhambra Company, the first would gain considerably, and the
second would not lose much. If the cards of both houses could be
shuffled a hit, both would benefit.
How did the Merry War after its great continental success
come here?
Why — thusly: —
one evening, ihe
Chairman of the
Alhambra Com-
pany hummed to
himself, ‘ ‘ Things
isn’t as they
used to was in
our Kate Sant-
ley's time,” and
another Direc-
tor murmured
the refrain of
“ Nobody knows
as I know.” Mr.
William Hol-
land (William
the Dutchman)
was annoyed.
“ You can’t,”
said he, “always
get a popular Kate Santley ; it’s quite good enough to have a
people’s Katerer.”
“ There was no error about Kate,” sighed an eminent Shareholder.
“Well,” objected William the Dutchman, “you can’t make
bricks without straw.”
“ Tiens ! ” cried M. Jacobi, “ but you cannot make Opera without
Strauss ! ”
William the Dutchman grasped him by the hand. It was an
idea. Strauss’s Merry War by all means ; “ and,” added the emi-
nent but still dismal Shareholder, “ if that fails, it’s the last Strauss
that breaks the camel’s back. Why not try Planquette ? ” _
“ Cher ami!” exclaimed M. Jacobi, affectionately slapping the
despondent Alhambraist on the shoulder, “ I ask for Strauss, and as
Signor Alfredo Thompsoni, our colleague at the Pandora, would
say, you throw quite a ‘ wet Planquette ’ on it.”
“Well, but wet Planquetie’s a success, isn’t it?” asked the
Director.
“ So so,” replied Mr. Reece, who had just looked in ‘ on the job,’
“ I can’t say Rip goes Rippingly.”
“ Wish you couldn’t say it,” growled the despondent one.
So terms were arranged with Mr. Reece, who said he wouldn’t
“ split Strauss ” over a pound or two, and he undertook to write the
libretto of the Merry War. But what a. weak title ! and especially
just now, when the Public are associating war with anything but
merriment.
However, there it is, and we may say, at once, that rarely, if ever,
has the mise-en-scene, specially the scenes, been more effective
than in this Opera. The music is tuneful, but not catching: the
cast is not strong, the story weak, the characters good ; but in spite
of all the Strauss melodies, the strength of the piece lies, not like
Samson’s in his ’airs, but in the Military Ballet in the Third Act, for
which M. Jacobi has
written music that
makes dancing easy
even where Ballet has
reigned supreme. Mile.
de Labruyere and
Marie Valain divide
the honours and share
the applause which they
most thoroughly de-
serve. Miss Lizzie Per-
cival, leading her
dashing comrades in
their dancing musketry
drill, would take captive
the most ferocious ene-
Gretchen. wife of Rip,-
quite a Peri-Winkle,
M. Jacobi making Bricks with plenty of Strauss.
my, and evoke a rapturous encore from him into the bargain.
Mr. Bright, himself, could not object to a Merry War carried on
by such troops, and, of course, he would, on the quakerest principles,
admire the Merry War as a Merry Peace.
Could Mr. Brough, who is, playing a dull Dutchman at the
Comedy, have visited Holland—Mr. W. Holland, we mean—and
taken the part of Balthazar, a very lively Dutchman, here, and
could M. Marius have played a character whose catch-line, “ I don’t
think I ought to have said that,” hears a striking resemblance to
his leading question in Les Manteaux Noirs, “ Am I going too far ? ”
the cast of the piece would have been far stronger than it is at
present.
Miss Loseby is as bright as ever, and Madame Amadi makes a
capital Military Duchess, recalling the Ah, quej'aime les militaires,
as she leads her warrioresses.
Instead of Mile. Lory Stubel, who was associated with the success
of the Merry War abroad, as Elsie, we heard somebody Elsie—and
that somebody was Miss Kate Sullivan, who, considering she took
the part at very short notice, and must have
been horridly nervous, played capitally, sang
well, and looked the character of the Dutch-
man’s wife most thoroughly.
Those who do not care to see the entire
Opera should on no account miss the Military
Ballet, with which the Third Act commences,
at ten o’clock.
After the War at the Alhambra we come
to the Piece at the Comedy—which, as we
have said in our title, is lively—on account
of the brightness of the costumes, the pretty
looks of the wearers, the general excellence of
the acting and singing, both too good for the
music and words,—the former being graceful
but commonplace, and the latter only common-
place—and lastly, the scene in the Second Act
in the Katskill Mountains, which is a verit-
able chef d'oeuvre of Mr. Beverley’s paint-
ing. The delightful old story of Rip Van
Winkle, which Washington Irving
adapted from the German tale of Peter
Rians and made his own, has been taken by two Frenchmen and one
North Briton, and, if not absolutely butchered to make a London
holiday, at least, so spoilt for operatic purposes as to cause regret
that the International Librettists, Messrs. Meilhac, Gille, and
Farnie had not cudgelled
their brains to devise an
original story between the
three of them, and have
found for M. Plan queue,
the French Composer, some-
thing as congenial to his
talents as was the really
first - rate plot of Les
Cloches de Corneville, of
which the Composer gives
us, in Rip, occasional
reminiscences, but to the
level of which, in his
present effort, he never
once rises.
Rip Van Winkle was a
story worthy of the genius
of a Meyerbeer, a Weber,
or a Wagner, could the last
have stuck to his Flying-
Dutchman style. But the International Librettists and their
Composer have frittered away all the picturesque, goblinesque, and
pathetic character of the tale to suit what are supposed to be the
tastes of the Public frequenting the. Comedy Theatre which goes
in to rival the Gaiety and the
Avenue with its dresses,
pretty faces, shapely limbs,
light sparkling music, catchy
tunes, and catch-word dia-
logue. The pathetic simplicity
of the story is entirely des-
troyed, and instead of poor,
careless, sottish Rip being
driven out of his house and
home by his vixenish wife,
he leaves a loving spouse,
charmingly represented by
Miss Violet Cameron, and
his child, and goes to seek for
treasure in the Katskill Moun-
tains ; where, instead of being
encountered by Heindrie
Hudson’s ghostly crew of
grimy old Dutch Salts play-
ing at bowls, whose thunder
reverberates t hrough the hills,
he assists at an entertainment given by an amiable tenor and a
number of musical young ladies belonging, perhaps, to Miss Lila
Clay’s Company from the Comique ; and here also he sees Miss Ada
A Change of Vedder. Vet Yedder and Finer
Vedder.
Ome, Sweet ’Ome.” Eip bringing up
the Children in the way they should
go down a Back Street.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[November 4, 1882c
Army and Leggy.
A “MERRY WAR” AND A LIVELY PIECE.
If the Merry War, at the Alhambra, were played hy the Lively-
Piece-Comedy Company, and if Rip, at the Comedy, were played by
the Alhambra Company, the first would gain considerably, and the
second would not lose much. If the cards of both houses could be
shuffled a hit, both would benefit.
How did the Merry War after its great continental success
come here?
Why — thusly: —
one evening, ihe
Chairman of the
Alhambra Com-
pany hummed to
himself, ‘ ‘ Things
isn’t as they
used to was in
our Kate Sant-
ley's time,” and
another Direc-
tor murmured
the refrain of
“ Nobody knows
as I know.” Mr.
William Hol-
land (William
the Dutchman)
was annoyed.
“ You can’t,”
said he, “always
get a popular Kate Santley ; it’s quite good enough to have a
people’s Katerer.”
“ There was no error about Kate,” sighed an eminent Shareholder.
“Well,” objected William the Dutchman, “you can’t make
bricks without straw.”
“ Tiens ! ” cried M. Jacobi, “ but you cannot make Opera without
Strauss ! ”
William the Dutchman grasped him by the hand. It was an
idea. Strauss’s Merry War by all means ; “ and,” added the emi-
nent but still dismal Shareholder, “ if that fails, it’s the last Strauss
that breaks the camel’s back. Why not try Planquette ? ” _
“ Cher ami!” exclaimed M. Jacobi, affectionately slapping the
despondent Alhambraist on the shoulder, “ I ask for Strauss, and as
Signor Alfredo Thompsoni, our colleague at the Pandora, would
say, you throw quite a ‘ wet Planquette ’ on it.”
“Well, but wet Planquetie’s a success, isn’t it?” asked the
Director.
“ So so,” replied Mr. Reece, who had just looked in ‘ on the job,’
“ I can’t say Rip goes Rippingly.”
“ Wish you couldn’t say it,” growled the despondent one.
So terms were arranged with Mr. Reece, who said he wouldn’t
“ split Strauss ” over a pound or two, and he undertook to write the
libretto of the Merry War. But what a. weak title ! and especially
just now, when the Public are associating war with anything but
merriment.
However, there it is, and we may say, at once, that rarely, if ever,
has the mise-en-scene, specially the scenes, been more effective
than in this Opera. The music is tuneful, but not catching: the
cast is not strong, the story weak, the characters good ; but in spite
of all the Strauss melodies, the strength of the piece lies, not like
Samson’s in his ’airs, but in the Military Ballet in the Third Act, for
which M. Jacobi has
written music that
makes dancing easy
even where Ballet has
reigned supreme. Mile.
de Labruyere and
Marie Valain divide
the honours and share
the applause which they
most thoroughly de-
serve. Miss Lizzie Per-
cival, leading her
dashing comrades in
their dancing musketry
drill, would take captive
the most ferocious ene-
Gretchen. wife of Rip,-
quite a Peri-Winkle,
M. Jacobi making Bricks with plenty of Strauss.
my, and evoke a rapturous encore from him into the bargain.
Mr. Bright, himself, could not object to a Merry War carried on
by such troops, and, of course, he would, on the quakerest principles,
admire the Merry War as a Merry Peace.
Could Mr. Brough, who is, playing a dull Dutchman at the
Comedy, have visited Holland—Mr. W. Holland, we mean—and
taken the part of Balthazar, a very lively Dutchman, here, and
could M. Marius have played a character whose catch-line, “ I don’t
think I ought to have said that,” hears a striking resemblance to
his leading question in Les Manteaux Noirs, “ Am I going too far ? ”
the cast of the piece would have been far stronger than it is at
present.
Miss Loseby is as bright as ever, and Madame Amadi makes a
capital Military Duchess, recalling the Ah, quej'aime les militaires,
as she leads her warrioresses.
Instead of Mile. Lory Stubel, who was associated with the success
of the Merry War abroad, as Elsie, we heard somebody Elsie—and
that somebody was Miss Kate Sullivan, who, considering she took
the part at very short notice, and must have
been horridly nervous, played capitally, sang
well, and looked the character of the Dutch-
man’s wife most thoroughly.
Those who do not care to see the entire
Opera should on no account miss the Military
Ballet, with which the Third Act commences,
at ten o’clock.
After the War at the Alhambra we come
to the Piece at the Comedy—which, as we
have said in our title, is lively—on account
of the brightness of the costumes, the pretty
looks of the wearers, the general excellence of
the acting and singing, both too good for the
music and words,—the former being graceful
but commonplace, and the latter only common-
place—and lastly, the scene in the Second Act
in the Katskill Mountains, which is a verit-
able chef d'oeuvre of Mr. Beverley’s paint-
ing. The delightful old story of Rip Van
Winkle, which Washington Irving
adapted from the German tale of Peter
Rians and made his own, has been taken by two Frenchmen and one
North Briton, and, if not absolutely butchered to make a London
holiday, at least, so spoilt for operatic purposes as to cause regret
that the International Librettists, Messrs. Meilhac, Gille, and
Farnie had not cudgelled
their brains to devise an
original story between the
three of them, and have
found for M. Plan queue,
the French Composer, some-
thing as congenial to his
talents as was the really
first - rate plot of Les
Cloches de Corneville, of
which the Composer gives
us, in Rip, occasional
reminiscences, but to the
level of which, in his
present effort, he never
once rises.
Rip Van Winkle was a
story worthy of the genius
of a Meyerbeer, a Weber,
or a Wagner, could the last
have stuck to his Flying-
Dutchman style. But the International Librettists and their
Composer have frittered away all the picturesque, goblinesque, and
pathetic character of the tale to suit what are supposed to be the
tastes of the Public frequenting the. Comedy Theatre which goes
in to rival the Gaiety and the
Avenue with its dresses,
pretty faces, shapely limbs,
light sparkling music, catchy
tunes, and catch-word dia-
logue. The pathetic simplicity
of the story is entirely des-
troyed, and instead of poor,
careless, sottish Rip being
driven out of his house and
home by his vixenish wife,
he leaves a loving spouse,
charmingly represented by
Miss Violet Cameron, and
his child, and goes to seek for
treasure in the Katskill Moun-
tains ; where, instead of being
encountered by Heindrie
Hudson’s ghostly crew of
grimy old Dutch Salts play-
ing at bowls, whose thunder
reverberates t hrough the hills,
he assists at an entertainment given by an amiable tenor and a
number of musical young ladies belonging, perhaps, to Miss Lila
Clay’s Company from the Comique ; and here also he sees Miss Ada
A Change of Vedder. Vet Yedder and Finer
Vedder.
Ome, Sweet ’Ome.” Eip bringing up
the Children in the way they should
go down a Back Street.