DOI Heft:
June 8, 1889
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17687#0279
270
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[June 8, 1889.
“MODUS OPERANDI”
(The Covent Garden Government and Her Majesty’s Opposition.)
Tuesday, May 28.—How plucky of Boito to have written
Mefistofele, after Gounod had made such a success with Faust. It
was almost as if Mefistofele were tempting the gifted Composer into
a Mefisto-isfibxre. If so, Mephistopheles was done, not for the first
time, and done remarkably well. The impressive prologue was
Mad Maggie frightens Funny Little Faust.
magnificently rendered, Signor Novara taking Signor Castelmary’s
part at short notice, which made “no vara great difference” as
Miss McIntyre observed in her best Scotch McAccent. Why call
her “ Mademoiselle” in the bills ? Aiblfns (whatever that may be),
but she’s a puir and bonnie Scotch lassie, and nae French. She
looked charming as Boito’s Marguerite, who i3 much more of a
genuine ingenue than is Gounod’s girl, and sang superbly. I shall
welcome the time when she can rely entirely upon herself, and act
her part without keeping one eye on Signor Mancinelli to see if it’s
all right. I dare say Mancinelli likes it: I should, if I were in his
place,—and, by the way, if I were in his place, what a row there’d
be in the orchestra! Of course, the old musical hands in the
orchestra sympathise with her, and yet must wish that she
should be out of their leading-strings. Even when she goes as mad
as a hatter—as a Straw-hatter—(is this anywhere near the solu-
tion as to the origin of this proverbial simile?)—her rule seems
to be, “ Keep my eye on my Mancinelli, and my Mancinelli will
pull me through.” Madame Scalchi, is a jovial Marta, far too
wicked for Mephistopheles, who objects to being Marta'& in Marta-
rimony. Sly humour of Boito’s in introducing a little bit of
Wagner, well-played and sung by Signor Rinaldini in true
Warbling Wag’ner style, in the First Act. How good that German
dance is ! It haunts me for days afterwards, and what a contrast
is its peasant-like clumsiness to the graceful classical movement of
the Grecian Ladies in the Troy Town Act, where the warbling
Wag’ner reappears as Nereus—just like him—and Marta comes out
in classical drapery as a lady of the name of Fantalis (who was she
when she was at home ?) who does her best to play nothing on an
old harp with damp strings—not a true harp, but a lyre—and sings
a charming duet with Helen McGregor ; no, I should say Helen
McIntyre of Troy, our sweet Belle Helene, from whom Offenbach-
again memories expect the song of “ 0 Belle Venus, quel plaisir
trouves-tu ? ” “Ah, Schneider, how you vas! ” as Rir Yan Jeffer-
son Winkle used to say. The Opera is not a light one, but it was
made heavy by the “waits ” between the Acts ; especially the Troy
Wait. The Brocken Scene raised the enthusiasm of the house, and
would have restored the spirits—it was full of them—of even the most
Brocken-hearted Manager, which Druriolanus most decidedly isn’t.
Thursday. — An eventful evening for the Cosmopolitan Orga-
nising Opera Committee. Irish Tenor with Scotch name was to have
played on Italian Opera Stage in German Opera Lohengrin. Rather
mixed. But poor Signor Bartoni Mac-aroni Guckini unfortu-
nately sprained his ankle, and it didn’t come off. By “ it,” I mean
the event. Rather than disappoint the brilliant house assembled to
meet him, Signor M'Guckln would have been only too pleased to
have come on as Lohengrin in a Bath-chair drawn by swans, and
sung with all the fervour and sweetness of which he is capable. The
Organising. Committee all for the idea—such a novelty, Drurio-
lanW decided against it. “Bad precedent,” said the astute
Manager, “ for Tenor to come on in Bath-chair.” So Dan Drardy,
Junior, took the part at short notice, and acquitted himself as well
as the short notice would permit. Audience, following the exceUent
example of punctuality set by Their Royal Highnesses, came in
early, and stopped till the wobbling property pigeon, a very easy
shot for any marksman with half
an eye for a penn’orth at the
cocoa-nuts, had descended, and
all was over with the wicked
Ortrude, who is perpetually
interfering between the Wedding
Knight and Madame Nordic a,
looking and singing charmingly
as Miss Somebody Elsa, without
II Cavaliero Bartoni Mac-aroni Guckini as a Knight of the Bath—chair.
even saying, “Beg pardon, hope I don’t do ought rude.”
Hardly recognised Madame Nordica in new fair-haired wig, and
evidently she looked much taller than last season. Evidently grown
rapidly in public opinion. Ruir Scotch Lassie Maggie McIntyre,
in a state of Scotch lassie-tude, reclined in the Stalls, and was clearly
surprised at finding herself on the wrong side of the Curtain. Mr.
Henry Chaplin was radiant after his successful bimetallistic depu-
tation, and insisted on explaining to Druriolanus the theory of
bimetallism. Druriolanus, equal to the occasion, comprehended it
in a twinkle. “I see,” he said, “bicycle thing on two wheels;
‘biped,’ creature on two
peds: bimetallism evidently
means doubling the prices.
Won’t do, my boy; won’t
do. Tata!” TheMAHDi—
Fursch-Madi, I should say
—in great force as Ortrude.
Opera magnificently put on
the stage ; everything first-
rate except the property-
moulting wobbling pigeon,
and the sooner he is put
into a property-pie, and seen
no more, the better for the
finish of Lohengrin. Or-
chestra conducted by Man-
talini, — no. Mancinelli,
—superb. Vive V Opera !
Saturday. — Rentree of
Madame Albani. Every-
body enraptured. But why ... . n . , .,,,
the Story of Alfred and 0h> thlf18 aGJe'ful moment!
the Cakes, called La Traviata ? Alfred, in this case, could hardly be
called Alfred the Great, and Madame Albani had doubtless some-
thing to contend against in Signor Talazac's curious idea of a lover’s
passion, and Signor Cotogni’s quaint conception of paternal pathos.
But, despite these drawbacks, what a triumph was hers, and how
well did Violetta deserve the huge bouquets of roses and lilies,
orchids and iris, which were presented to her at the close of the First
and Second Acts respectively! A brilliant House apparently had
eyes and ears for Violetta alone, though it certainly did not let her
alone when her liquid trills and lovely piano passages fairly brought
it down. Alfred the Little sang his part in the duet in the Last Act
with some sweetness and effect; and Signor Cotogni’s powerful voice
would probably please more if his peculiar facial play and manual
movements did not quite so strongly convey the idea that he was
playing alternately at Dumb Crambo and Forfeits.
Her Majesty's Opposition.—The Session commenced with the
Barliere, possibly in the hope that that Opera might save, or rather
shave, it from disaster. Signor Padilla (certainly one of the best
Figaros of modern times) gives it most valuable support. But as a
solitary swallow does not make a summer, a singular celebrity (espe-
cially when of the male sex) does not always create a season’s success.
Fortunately the Rosina, Madame Gargano, and the Alrnaviva of
Signor Vicini (who [appears vicariously for someone else), are
equally good. From the appearance of the House generally, I fancy
that Her Majesty’s Opposition is not unlikely to secure what may be
termed “ a good working minority.”
Alter the ceremony last Saturday, Prince George of Wales is in
full possession of the Liberty of the City of London. He can do what-
ever he likes. It is George without the drag on. This freedom is
H.R.H.’s hereditary right; so, as a Citizen, he is “ free as the heir.”
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[June 8, 1889.
“MODUS OPERANDI”
(The Covent Garden Government and Her Majesty’s Opposition.)
Tuesday, May 28.—How plucky of Boito to have written
Mefistofele, after Gounod had made such a success with Faust. It
was almost as if Mefistofele were tempting the gifted Composer into
a Mefisto-isfibxre. If so, Mephistopheles was done, not for the first
time, and done remarkably well. The impressive prologue was
Mad Maggie frightens Funny Little Faust.
magnificently rendered, Signor Novara taking Signor Castelmary’s
part at short notice, which made “no vara great difference” as
Miss McIntyre observed in her best Scotch McAccent. Why call
her “ Mademoiselle” in the bills ? Aiblfns (whatever that may be),
but she’s a puir and bonnie Scotch lassie, and nae French. She
looked charming as Boito’s Marguerite, who i3 much more of a
genuine ingenue than is Gounod’s girl, and sang superbly. I shall
welcome the time when she can rely entirely upon herself, and act
her part without keeping one eye on Signor Mancinelli to see if it’s
all right. I dare say Mancinelli likes it: I should, if I were in his
place,—and, by the way, if I were in his place, what a row there’d
be in the orchestra! Of course, the old musical hands in the
orchestra sympathise with her, and yet must wish that she
should be out of their leading-strings. Even when she goes as mad
as a hatter—as a Straw-hatter—(is this anywhere near the solu-
tion as to the origin of this proverbial simile?)—her rule seems
to be, “ Keep my eye on my Mancinelli, and my Mancinelli will
pull me through.” Madame Scalchi, is a jovial Marta, far too
wicked for Mephistopheles, who objects to being Marta'& in Marta-
rimony. Sly humour of Boito’s in introducing a little bit of
Wagner, well-played and sung by Signor Rinaldini in true
Warbling Wag’ner style, in the First Act. How good that German
dance is ! It haunts me for days afterwards, and what a contrast
is its peasant-like clumsiness to the graceful classical movement of
the Grecian Ladies in the Troy Town Act, where the warbling
Wag’ner reappears as Nereus—just like him—and Marta comes out
in classical drapery as a lady of the name of Fantalis (who was she
when she was at home ?) who does her best to play nothing on an
old harp with damp strings—not a true harp, but a lyre—and sings
a charming duet with Helen McGregor ; no, I should say Helen
McIntyre of Troy, our sweet Belle Helene, from whom Offenbach-
again memories expect the song of “ 0 Belle Venus, quel plaisir
trouves-tu ? ” “Ah, Schneider, how you vas! ” as Rir Yan Jeffer-
son Winkle used to say. The Opera is not a light one, but it was
made heavy by the “waits ” between the Acts ; especially the Troy
Wait. The Brocken Scene raised the enthusiasm of the house, and
would have restored the spirits—it was full of them—of even the most
Brocken-hearted Manager, which Druriolanus most decidedly isn’t.
Thursday. — An eventful evening for the Cosmopolitan Orga-
nising Opera Committee. Irish Tenor with Scotch name was to have
played on Italian Opera Stage in German Opera Lohengrin. Rather
mixed. But poor Signor Bartoni Mac-aroni Guckini unfortu-
nately sprained his ankle, and it didn’t come off. By “ it,” I mean
the event. Rather than disappoint the brilliant house assembled to
meet him, Signor M'Guckln would have been only too pleased to
have come on as Lohengrin in a Bath-chair drawn by swans, and
sung with all the fervour and sweetness of which he is capable. The
Organising. Committee all for the idea—such a novelty, Drurio-
lanW decided against it. “Bad precedent,” said the astute
Manager, “ for Tenor to come on in Bath-chair.” So Dan Drardy,
Junior, took the part at short notice, and acquitted himself as well
as the short notice would permit. Audience, following the exceUent
example of punctuality set by Their Royal Highnesses, came in
early, and stopped till the wobbling property pigeon, a very easy
shot for any marksman with half
an eye for a penn’orth at the
cocoa-nuts, had descended, and
all was over with the wicked
Ortrude, who is perpetually
interfering between the Wedding
Knight and Madame Nordic a,
looking and singing charmingly
as Miss Somebody Elsa, without
II Cavaliero Bartoni Mac-aroni Guckini as a Knight of the Bath—chair.
even saying, “Beg pardon, hope I don’t do ought rude.”
Hardly recognised Madame Nordica in new fair-haired wig, and
evidently she looked much taller than last season. Evidently grown
rapidly in public opinion. Ruir Scotch Lassie Maggie McIntyre,
in a state of Scotch lassie-tude, reclined in the Stalls, and was clearly
surprised at finding herself on the wrong side of the Curtain. Mr.
Henry Chaplin was radiant after his successful bimetallistic depu-
tation, and insisted on explaining to Druriolanus the theory of
bimetallism. Druriolanus, equal to the occasion, comprehended it
in a twinkle. “I see,” he said, “bicycle thing on two wheels;
‘biped,’ creature on two
peds: bimetallism evidently
means doubling the prices.
Won’t do, my boy; won’t
do. Tata!” TheMAHDi—
Fursch-Madi, I should say
—in great force as Ortrude.
Opera magnificently put on
the stage ; everything first-
rate except the property-
moulting wobbling pigeon,
and the sooner he is put
into a property-pie, and seen
no more, the better for the
finish of Lohengrin. Or-
chestra conducted by Man-
talini, — no. Mancinelli,
—superb. Vive V Opera !
Saturday. — Rentree of
Madame Albani. Every-
body enraptured. But why ... . n . , .,,,
the Story of Alfred and 0h> thlf18 aGJe'ful moment!
the Cakes, called La Traviata ? Alfred, in this case, could hardly be
called Alfred the Great, and Madame Albani had doubtless some-
thing to contend against in Signor Talazac's curious idea of a lover’s
passion, and Signor Cotogni’s quaint conception of paternal pathos.
But, despite these drawbacks, what a triumph was hers, and how
well did Violetta deserve the huge bouquets of roses and lilies,
orchids and iris, which were presented to her at the close of the First
and Second Acts respectively! A brilliant House apparently had
eyes and ears for Violetta alone, though it certainly did not let her
alone when her liquid trills and lovely piano passages fairly brought
it down. Alfred the Little sang his part in the duet in the Last Act
with some sweetness and effect; and Signor Cotogni’s powerful voice
would probably please more if his peculiar facial play and manual
movements did not quite so strongly convey the idea that he was
playing alternately at Dumb Crambo and Forfeits.
Her Majesty's Opposition.—The Session commenced with the
Barliere, possibly in the hope that that Opera might save, or rather
shave, it from disaster. Signor Padilla (certainly one of the best
Figaros of modern times) gives it most valuable support. But as a
solitary swallow does not make a summer, a singular celebrity (espe-
cially when of the male sex) does not always create a season’s success.
Fortunately the Rosina, Madame Gargano, and the Alrnaviva of
Signor Vicini (who [appears vicariously for someone else), are
equally good. From the appearance of the House generally, I fancy
that Her Majesty’s Opposition is not unlikely to secure what may be
termed “ a good working minority.”
Alter the ceremony last Saturday, Prince George of Wales is in
full possession of the Liberty of the City of London. He can do what-
ever he likes. It is George without the drag on. This freedom is
H.R.H.’s hereditary right; so, as a Citizen, he is “ free as the heir.”