The New Orleans daily Democrat. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1877-1880, 1878-08-04
RH1RENsTEEN's OPERA OF THE
'.mEMDN.'

Ruhanstein's opera Of the "Demon" has
pertapg met with more success than any
other of his works In the Old World yet 1t
seems to be almost unknown here. He has
chosen one Of Lermentoff's poems for his
text-a wild Caucasian legend, well adapted
to his weird and powerful music.
The curtain rises slowly as tho first chords
of the overture are played, and at first we
perceive nothing but complete darkness-Ler-
mentoff's idea being to represent chaos-but
little by little, straining ones eyes to the ut
most, shadowy figures appear that seem to
b, floating through the air. Lermentoff has
here given IFS the first struggle between the
principles OF good and evil, in which, alas for
poor humanity, the power OF evil does not al
WAYS vanish at the approach OF the angel OF
light as night dies away when the first bright
rays of the sun gladden. the earth
The scene is laid in the mountainous regions
of the Caucasus, and takes us far back into
the dark ages; the legend, however, is still
told by chattering old women SIS they sit
before their huts spinning or making lace,
and they still point out the ruined castle as IL
lies nestled between the dragged rocks A
beautiful naiden-so runs the legend--who
lived there long, long ago, was Woed and won
bv a mighty prince The marriage feast was
to take place in q few days, and Svetlana was
awaiting the arrival OF her lover, when satan
in making his tour even in less than eighty
days, around the world, alghted near the
rnaiden's home. He had found much sorrow,
trouble, woe and wickedness in the world,
and, On the whole, was well pleased with his
| trim About to return to the lower regions,
| he caught sight Of the beautiful maiden as,
surrounded by her companions, she went to
draw water from the well. A happy, pure,
Innocent girl, thought Satan, for he reads all
hearts through and through, ana looking
deep down into hers, he found there such Il
wealth of purity. love aud innocence that the
sight fairly dazZled hint was such u
strange revelation; such prize, he thought,
| is worth winning. So he called his demons to
| his aid and told them that SVetlana S Dflde"
| groom must de-
Then the scene changes and We find our
selves in the depths OF @ forest. Around a
camp bright fire is burning, by. whose light
we distinctly STE the prince, in all the beauty
gallant soldiers around him. In the distance
the camels are resting, heavily laden with
rich gifts for his beautiful bride. AS the
shadows deepen, and the prince and his fol-
tile Cossacks are seen cautiously creeping
from between the bushes, and in q few sec.
onds the whole camp is in state OF wild
confusion. only one Of the princes followers
escapes, and he must carry his lords last
words to his bride.
During this time Satan has whispered
words OF doubt and mstrust In the maiden's
ear, and she feels oppressed as II some great
| sorrow were come upon her. The meSsen
ger arrives soon after. Svetlana expecting
and longing for the coming OF her lover, mac
ordered the musicians and dancing girls tx
enliven her tedious waiting. She sees by this
messengers face that some great calamity
has happened, and as she realizes the dread
full truth she sinks down in q sWoOn. Here
the music rises and falls in soft, plaintive
chords, and Satan, in the shape OF the prince
bends over the weeping maiden and tempts
her with words of passionate love and tries tc
| win her soul.
All in vain; she feels instinctively that the
evil one is near her, and that even to lis
ten to his words is sin. So, broken-hearted
half crazed with grief, she flies to a convent
for relief. Here Satan still pursues her ant
tempts her again with promises OF eterna
love and bliss. The clock of the convent
strikes midnight, the voices Of the holy sis
tiers at prayer in the chapel rise clearly OF
the quiet night air; the soft rays Of the moon
as they stream in her CELL give an unearth IS
look to the large wooden crucix hanging
above her pallet. She thinks OF her home, o
her lost happiness, and again Satan is neal
her Weakened by suffering she feels almOs
powerless to resist, and Satan is about tt
grasp her in his arms when, with a cry fOl
help. she falls on her knees-dead The rude
touch had withered the tender flower; he
faith had vanquished, and the guardian ange
bore her pure spirit to it's home OF eterna
rest.
Such is the legend that Rubenstein ha
brought to life again with the PrOmetheal
touch OF mighty genius.