The Sun.
London, England, 1848-05-05 00:00:00

. --;
scatters them upon the cold and unpitying earth! But
this period of tribulation past, is not all repaid by that
wild, full-toned exclamation of delight,
"Oh! gioja. oh gioja—lo ti ritrovo, Elvino!"
The finale, " Ah! non giunge," is the real gushiti
over of a ht art, to which the streams of life have been
suddenly restored. Nothing could surpass the enthusiasm
with which this fascinatirg artiste was last night re
ceive d. The moment of her entrance in the third scene
of the first act was anxiously expected by the audience ;
a: ,d then there was a burst of cheering,
accompanied by
waving of handkerchiefs, which lasted for upwards of
a minute. 'f he openingnotes fell like oil upon a trou-
bled, boiling ocean, and charmed all to silence. A burst
of applause followed this first passage ; it was one Of
mutual congratulation : the throat of the nightingale
had lost none of its sweet and soothing power. Num•
berless as are the points worthy to be noted in Wile.
Lind's dramatic conception of the part of Amina, they
are only adjuects to her splendid vocal perfirmance. It
is as a singer, and not as an actress, that we are now to
speak of her, and here we find excellencies still more
remarkable. We shall not at this time attempt to spe-
cialise every beauty which marks her performance, but
shall confine ourselves to the most prominent character-
istics. Enough has been written long ere this to make the
public acquainted with the peculiarities of her voice ; it
is nothing new to say that it is a soprano
sfogato of
singular power and brilliancy, about the compass of two
octaves and a half of good notes; the upper registerbeing surprisingly clear, full, and equal. Flexibility is
one of the most striking attributes or this wondenul
organ. In two particular feats of vocal art, !Mille. Lind
has, perhaps, never been equalled. One of these is the
facility with which she accomplishes what the French
call (and we have no synonyrne for the expression)
filer le son, that is, holding a. note for an unusual length
of time, increasing and diminishing its volume of tone at
will, until at last she brings it to such an intense
pianissimo that, as Sheridan Knowles has poetically
written--

" Nothing lives 'twixt it and silence."
The other feat in which the Swedish Nightingale so
wonderfully excels is the sotto voce, which she
has so
completely at control that in the softest pianissimo she
commands as much variety and intensity of expression
as in the passages of mezzo voce, or those of energy and
fioriture. These and many other of Mdlle. Lind's vocal
peculiarities are frequently called into play in the music
of Amine, and perhaps they were never more happily
exemplified than in last night's
_performance.
But to mention some of the great features. The cavatina'
" Come per me serene," in which Amine gives vent to
the happiness she derives from the influence of external
, nature, is a fair example of real cantabile singing. Al-
though ornamented, it is ornamented with such grace
that the composer of the air could not but have felt
gratified to have heard his melody so ingeniously and
happily embroidered ; the cadenza, beginning with a
trillo, deliciously in tune, which joins the first and second
couplets, is both new and elegant. Almost every phrase
of this charming cavatina was followed by suppressed
bursts of delight, which at the end exploded in a com-
plete tumult of applause. In the plaintive duet, " Soera
it
sen la man," the theme of which was given with ex-
quisite tenderness, Mdlle. Lind prefaced the repoise of
the burthen with another cadenza peculiarly
_original
in form, and executed with extreme finish. In this
duet a good opportunity was afforded for the
sotto voce singing we have elsewhere parti-
cularized. The duet at the end of the first
act (or rather first scene, for the curtain only falls
to give the Amina time to change her costume) we par-
ticularly admired the soft expressions with which the
graceful ensemble, " Mai pia dubbi,was given, to which,
by the way, Gardoni lent valuable and sympathetic as-
sistance. Here the cadenza re-introducing the theme
was as remarkable for its elaboration as for the perfect
case and finish with which it was executed. The morceau
at the end, without accompaniments, " Pur nel sonno,"
whichis of itself nothing, 'was rendered singularly ex.
pressive by the charm of Mdlle. Lind's voice, and the
exquieite simplicity of manner with which she delivered
it. The curtain fell amidst the loudest acclamations,
and Mdlle. Lind was compelled to appear twice before
the foot-lights to be again and again applauded. In the
first grand finale there was no particular vocal point to
remark, except the well known " D'uae accento," in the
morceau d'eusemble where Amine protests her innocence
to Elvin.). This was a fine display of passionate
tenderness; and the wonder was how Elvin° could
have been cold enough to remain sceptical to such an
irresistible and impetuous an appeal. At the fall of
the curtain Mdlle. Lind was again compelled to come
forward, and was greeted with a shower of bouquets.
But the triumph remains to be told. Thelast scene is
also the greatest; and it would be difficult indeed to ima-
gine anything more impressive and beautiful. From the
instant that Amine descends from the window of the
mill to the last burst of exultation, when she finds her
innocence acknowledged and her lover once more at her
feet, Madlle. Lind's singing was a succession of beauties.
It suffices to mention, en passant, the tenderness with
which she whispered the words, " Rea non son io,"
the pathos that accompanied her prayer for Elvino's
happiness, " Felice ei sit," and the touching plaintive-
ness with which she uttered the lament for the
withered flower, " Tibecio ancor, ma, inaridito 861" But
the largo in the minor key, " Ah non credea mirarti," we
could willingly dwell upon did space and the late hour at
vaoacdatl,ilzeagtainonee, ientyoplhvriansginagp,uaraitdy
aofpien:toenraetfionsa,
which we write permit: it was the perfection of expresssive
sataTilinndgntel'i the
breath impossible to surpass; the long shake, pianissimo,
preceding the final cadenza, quite enraptured the
audience, who were enthusiastic in their demonstrations
ut satisfiction. But still more brilliant wai the celebrated
cabaletta " A h non giunge," in the execution of which
Mdlle. Litid lavished h. a. vocal accomplishments with a
liberality and" independence that was only surpassed by-
the unerring surety with which she accomplished every-
thing she attempted. The theme, with slight modifica-
tions, was delivered according to Bellini's text; but in
the cadenza the gifted artist revelled in the indulgence
of her vocal facility, introducing an arpeggio which ran
through the entire register of her voice, reaching to C
in alt with amazing power. In spite of the singer's
exertions, the audience would have no denial, but in-
sisted upon a repeat of the cabaletta, with which unrea-
sonable request Mdlle. Lind gracefully coaiplied, dis-
playing little or no signs of fatigue. The curtain de-
scended amidst the loudest acclamations, and again the
heroine of the evening was twice brought before the
footlights. Wo can only passingly
notice with praise
the performance of Gardoni as Elvin°, in which he
exhibited the vocal grace and artistic skill for which he
has been so often lauded. T.
Lablaehe was pains•
taking and effective as Rudolpho.
(From the Post.)
From two concurring circumstances, this theatre pre-
sented last night one of the most striking spectacles we
ever witnessed, At five o'clock there were already vo
taries of Jenny Lind posted at the pit and gallery doors;
later, the crowd stretched ecross the stieet; while the
spectators covered the pavement for a long distance, up-
wards and downwards. When the doors opened the
rush was eager. beyond expression; but new precautions
had been taken, both on the gallery stairs as well as at
the pit entrance, to prevent the consequences of pres
sure. The pit and gallery were filled at once to an
overflow, and long before the performance began, the
stalls were filled, and the major part of the boxes
tenanted by a crowd, amongst whom we observed the
highest personages of the land—the display of rank
and fashion, as the list of company will testify, being
greater even than on occasions of visits of state. Her
Majesty the Queen Do wage r arrived before the ap
pointed hour, and exactly
at eight o'clock her Majesty
and their Royal Highnesses Prince Albert and the
Duchess of Kent appeared in their box. At the
sight of' the Queen there arose a shout of welcome
that seemed to shake the very roof of the building ;
it partook in no degree of the character of ordinary
plaudits; it bespoke, in a peculiar manner, intensity and
depth of feeling. The performance immediately com-
menced. On the appearance' of Jenny Lind a far more
familiar scene arose. She was received with applause,
waving of hats and handkerchiefs, and short compli-
ments of welcome from every part of the house, which
at one moment appeared as if they never would end. We
had foreseen yesterday, and announced the astonishment
which would be experienced by all competent to appre-
ciate vocal art. Jenny Lind was found at once last night
superior to herself last year. At first the auditors
marvelled at the increase of volume of her voice; the
quality of tone at the same tirtie being such that, how-
ever poor the comparison, we can only compare it to
the sound elicited from musical glasses, but the vibra-
tion dwelling on the ear long afterwards, with a peculiar
penetrating power of extraordinary fascination. The
next circumstance that struck the audience with amaze-
ment was the character of the sustained notes, and the
trilli introduced by this marvellous singer—now
loud, now whispered, they appeared capable of being
prolonged at will for any given time, without effort of
iteration—the sound pure and argentine, beyond every
instrument and every other voice. The
eembellishments
introduced resembled 'nothing we have heard before;
not
only so bright and playful, but so involved and chro•
subject and the dramatic position, whilst in appearance
h—oatitseonaeppe
natural, and the offsprings of passing
inspiration. The
aostc
am
whisperati n of
wasth the s
heard,inger
matic, and at the same time, so germane to_ the musical
we have
support the
momentare d wrsao p
silent ed
at another moment breaking into applause
_more vehe.
merit than any we have ever witnessed. Mdlle. Lind
was called forward twice after the first
.ac.t, and twice
We never witnessed the like in
Thi, scene was beyond
and cheers as well as plaudits.
dreecsaclrliepdtiaont the last, the whole house joining in shouts
to
et
n 1
whole burden of imparting amusement to the
onlyany tthoeaatdrde.
that
Aatsmraedgeatnrdosis
elle Lpinedrfohramdantcoe,
au-
dience, every other singer labouring under influenza.
Gardoni was still so ill, that it became necessary to
suppress the most beautiful morceaux of h;
s part.
Mademoiselle Vera, who with great good taste under-
took, in order to gratify the public, a part very inferior
to her talent, as well as Frederick Lablaehe, managed
however, to get over their portion of the evening's per-
formance with great credit to themselves. What we
have reported did not, however, constitute the greatest
enjoyment of the night. After the second act there was
an outburst of loyalty of such intensity as to form a pro.
nunciamento of the most gratifying description. The
distinguished company that filled the pit, the stalls,
and the boxes, as well as the close-pressed crowd in
the gallery, all joined in the loudest calls imaginable for
the National Anthem, accompanied by the wartnest.and
the most varied expressions of respectful loyalty, directed
to the royal box. The scene when the whole house rose
was brilliant beyond description. In the course of the
anthem every allusion was seized with eagerness, loudly
commented upon, and still more loudly cheered. In a
word, we have only to repeat that a more gratifying
spectacle than that of last night we never beheld, and
never hope to behold again, as it is very improbable
two circumstances of such peculiar excitement h s ould
concur.

(From the Herald.)
The re-appearance of Jenny [And last night Was the

booksellers in the boxes had been as lively as possible,
and insane prices were asked, if not in all
cases obtained.
The sympathy of the public in behalf of the Swedish
nightingale had thus experienced but small diminution,
renewal of the excitement of 1847! Tbe traffic of the
too, of the most brilliant distinction. The Queeii
the
her-
self was present, and the audience could not resist
her
temptation of drawing her for a few moments from
and the house Was crowded to the neck, and
privacy, between the first and second acts of the opera,,e
and loading her with demonstrations of loyalty. The
company, the singers and auditors vying
National Anthem was called for, and sung by the entireother
by visitors
in zeal and eilergy—t he former in their marked emphads
of utterance—the latter in the spirit, frequency, and. im-
patience of their acclamations. Her Majesty bowed re-
peatedly to the house, and, the scene altogether
t
was one of great brilliancy and excitement. I
was well to choose the Sonuambula for the first coming
of the popular Jenny Lind, for the part Of Amina is
perhaps, her best. It involves the necessity for personal
grace, amiability, and the modest divinitieg of deport-
ment--qualities which seem to be the natural charac-
teristics of the vocalist. The charm which belongs to
her is solely resident in those " excellent things of
women," and to this may be attributed the success which
has followed her—the worship which has made her an
idol—the dominion which she exercises. It is, however,
difficult to account for the impressions which she has
established: there is neither personal beauty nor the
highest artistic perfection, but the magic that surrounds
her is irresistible, and she at once prepossesses and enslaves.
Let her, therefore, keep to those representations in which
the soft, the mild, and the pitiful," are the innate
essentials, t nd her supremacy over the heart will con-
tinue as long as slie"chooses to challenge it. This is the
ground off which she should never go, and the Amities,
the Alices, and the Marius remain hers by prescriptive
consent. It is not in her nature to deal with the grand
and the terrible. She is no Grisi in the immensities of
physical execution—no Grisi in the loftiness of tragic
passion. She is the " beautiful," without the "sublime."
Her domesticity is her strength; and the gentleness of
her womanhood is the

rstthof us all."
et
mosth
so os oe n
unmoved at such tributes of welcome from thwho
vassalageometo pay their 15
be
That masters e'en 't`h—e
wise
t the spectators
f sufficient Jenny
w as
wisee
salvoes of congra-
tulation a box. The m
of the.enchantress, n
wasT heenle time
moment
althoughstateguineas
receptionandexquisite
"Comemanner,
painfulwho, no
stranger to this species of adulation, could scarcely
she
aris-
tocratic audience in the world. However,
re-
cod ocvcoeormne
tede
mp
eprosremal her,rfeyserene"andw
h was a s
stolep ri
ne enhnteot
rl
, prepared us to look for an increased volume of
tone; but we hardly detected it, though there was an
occasional huskiness that betokened cold. We observed
no difference in the form and degree of execution. We
had the air alluded to as we had it last year—an effusion
of guileless and confiding delight—touched with genial
playfulness and truth. This brought forth the old
marks of admiration, and thus Jenny won
triumph. The two duets with her lover which follow, in
which there is such a charming display of innocent fond-
ness, were also the prettiest passages imaginable of frank
and caressing tenderness. The second of these duets is
i
Jenny's own restoration to the opera, and n itself is,
perhaps, not worth the reviving, but she gives it so
much dramatic interest as to establish it now as a ne-
cessity. Her singing in the bed-room scene, when she
descends from the window and warbles her little ditties
in the ear of the Count, was an admirable piece of act-
ing, the state of unconsciousness being preserved with
singular vraisemblance ; and the subsequent awakening,
with the terror and distress incident to the moment of
suspicion—the pathos, the irritation, the confusion, the
alarm, were all delineated with a natural earnestness
that deeply interested the spectators, while the interven-
ing quintett, "D'un pensiero," drew from them a hurri-
cane of applause, all the efficiencies of execution and
expression being centered by Jenny in this affecting gush
of supplication and misery. The last act was a superb dis-
play of the same delicate sensibility. The music which fell
from Jenny's lips as she stood in the midst of the gazing and
excited villagers, seemed to have no origin but in the
shadowy phantasies of the brain. Outwardly placid
and undisturbed, phrase succeeded phrase without ap-
parent consciousness. The passages wore an air of
dreaminess singularly accordant with the spirit of the
scene, and this absorption as it were of the actress into
another sphere—this vague tranquillity of utterance—
this calm and unimpassioned grief—exacted a silence on
the part of the audience almost preternatural. In the
final bravura Jenny launched into the more showy re •
gions of the art, and revelled in fioriture of surprising
variety :and boldness. These she accomplished with
adroit certainty, and what could be more bewitching—
more illustrative of the renovated gaiety of.a suffering
heart—more deserving of the rapturous encore which it
received? At the conclusion of the opera she was called
for two or three times—we forget which—to be deluged
with applause far exceeding common limits, and sug-
gested by equally uncommon enthusiasm. Gardoni was
the Elvino, bat was not in such good voice as usual. F.
Lablache was the Count.

(From the Advertiser).
On the 4th of May, 1847, Jenny Lind made her debut
before an English audience, with an eclat which it is
needless now to record. Last night, the anniversary of
that day, the same enchanting vocalist commenced her
second season in London, with a brilliancy and amid an
i,ntliusiasm which taxes languitae somewhat severely to
describe in an adequate manner. A densely•crowd«i
house received the universal favourite with earnest and
protracted plAuditl, proving that the hold which the
Swedish Nightingale took upon the fancy and admira-
tion of the public in this country, remains at least as
powerful as ever. The exquisite silver tones, and flute-
like purity of the sweet, clear voice of Croelius's former
pupil, excited once again the delight, the t.cstacy of
••very listener. The ardour of the admiration thus
aroused cannot well be pictured in narration. It re-
quires to be actually present at the scene to form a
just notion of the mare, lions qualities of the gifted
prima donna, and of the character of the furore and rap-
ture which prevail among the auditors. Extreme, perhaps,
as these testimonies of approbation and pleasure
might be termed, the causes which last ❑ight elicited
them were such as to render them not only natural, but
also, perfectly justifiable. She whom poor Mendels-
sohn styled the " best of artistes—the most genuine and
noble," was then beheld with all the advantages of ex-
cellent health and spirits, and was then heard in truly
exquisite voice. In appearance, this " beautiful polar
star of the lyrical drama" has decidedly gained since
last season. She is stouter, and seems to be in stronger
health, than when previously before London audiences.
In voice, which is, after all, far more important, she is
also obviously improved—difficult as many may imagine
that statement to be of belief. Such, however, is un-
doubtedly the fact. Her charming voice has become
still more charming. It is more powerful, richer, and
has also acquired extended compass. A few of her higher
notes, which used to be somewhat harsh on the ear, have
become softened in quality—the result of careful, per-
severing study and discipline. She has likewise gained
clearness, fullness, and force in the upper notes.
Who would now imagine that this is the organ
of which Emanel Garcia, the well known Professor of
the Conservatoire, said, a few years since, that it was
" worn and rugged ;" or, that this was the cantarice
whom that usually excellent judge believed could never
rise above mediocrity. Jenny Lind and mediocrity !
That far-famed name could not well be associated with
a less appropriate or less suitable term. Neverthe-
less, it should ever be remembered (remembered as an
encouragement in persevering and arduous labour) that
the triumphs which the great vocalist is enabled to
achieve are owing, in a very great measure, to the most
unwearied study, the most untiring exertions. It is cer-
tainly wonderful to think, while hearing her now " pearly
fiuriture," that at one period the simplest cadence was
a task of difficulty to her. Then, again, it is re-
corded that her notes, though pure and full, were with-
out elasticity, and failed altogether in the power of the
crecendo Truly enough she must have exercised her
voice " with the patience of the sculptor shaping bis
marble." And what an exquisite creation of genius and
most highly cultivated art has sprung from those noble
and courageous efforts! Last night's performance was a
distinguished and brilliant example of their results. It
is unnecessary to enter into any minute notice of Jenny
Lind's Amine. The character is one which peculiarly
and most pleasingly suits her. The sweet music allotted
to the part is heard to the greatest advantage and in ful-
lest beauty when interpreted with all her talents, taste,
and charming finish. Last season, this was ever one of
her most effective, most enchanting, most popular cha-
racters. Last night she seemed, however, even to sur-
pass all her former representations, as the fair heroine
of Bellisi's beautiful opera of La Sonnambula. The
elegant and exquisite embellishments she introduced
with such true and accomplished taste as well as art,
were at once brilliant, elaborate, and distinct. The sur-
prising facility of her execution, the sweet, easy,
fluent, and penetrating qualities of her organ ;
its unerring correctness, its purity of tone ;
and the delicate and singularly efficient shad-
ing imparted to the changing inflexions of
the voice, obeying each heartfelt impulse —all
tended (with the naivete and nature of her acting) to
give to the performance the most delicious charms, and
to excite a perfect enthusiasm in the breasts of her
audience. At the end of the first act she was called
forward twice and greeted with showers of bouquets.
After the second, similar compliments were paid her;
and at the conclusion of the opera, and after the curtain
had fallen, there was an unanimous demand for the re-
petition of " Ah, non guinge." It certainly was one of
the most sparkling and brilliant gushes of enchanting
and joyous melody which could be imagined. Gardoni
had, subsequently, twice to re-appear with the heroine
of the evening, who again received the heartiest
plaudits and the most generous supplies of floral offer-
ings. Gardoni's Elvino is always an elegant and effec•
tire performance; and he last night sang With even
more than his wonted ability and taste. We were dis-
appointed, however, that he made so little of " Ah,
perche." It was not rendered with sufficient care
and finish. Mademoiselle Vera was ♦ery good as Lisa,
singing with much sweetness and effect. It was alto-
gether a very promising representation. F. Lablache
was the Count, and displayed his usual efficiency and
spirit. The audience assembled on the occasion was
peculiarly distinguished, as well as a crowded one. Her
majesty. Prince Albert. and party arrived sooon_atfieer,trhset
commencement of the opera. At the close
n. f„ first
act act calls were raised for "God save the (Zeus:
calls were at once responded toand_
entire audience, and speedily obeyed
and company. The curtain rose amidst d byr repeated
eodr orchestra
stthrae
cheer-
ing, and her Majesty came f em
eme en nt
rs
ee
of
h e rbox, and graciously acknow
from I parts of the house. The
rtthi
cheers which aroseii;ttw:a tue loyal and hearty
,e: ted with , earnestness and
1 National Anthem was eaZirdoni singing two of the
effect. Madlle. Vera an