The evening world., 1893-11-28
THE ITALIAN OPERA SEASON.

the heart OF the city. Singers are just
as good as horses any day. The dear
folks VINO love 20 parade peacockly in
places wlere men do gather have quite
"a many opportunities at the opera as
at the Horse Show. Tradition favors dis
play: London and Paris made the opera
a fashionable entertainment, and meek
ll't'e initiative New York has nothing
to do but to give one more parrot
like imitation. Therefore. | say: The
horses are dead; long live music. Long
live anything, in fact, that viii give US
the bediZenpd. bedIamonded, low-bodiced.
feathpr-leCked gem-glitterint crowd tina,
was seen at the Metropolitan Opera-House
last night.
1t was a gorgeous spectacle. in all
verify. The ''supers'' were the people
in the boxes. and Abbey. Schoeffel G.
Grau did not provide the costumes. The
real audience was composed Of the
people at the back OF the house. who
paid their money and stood up; who
wore no swell clothes. but had clean
faces and music-loving hearts. The
o~thers-the pictorial accessories-were
there to lend a colored loneliness to the
scene, and also to see that their neigh
bors did the same. one might also
call them Abbey's confederates. They
were certainly eminentit useful, for is
it not a fact hat IL there had been no
display of pluines and jewels in the
boxes last night, the opera season would
to-day be set down as a failure? Don't
answer this question instantly with an
indignant negative. Think 1t over.
The Metropolitan Opera-House has GER
tainly been improved. The fire that
e cast a gloom over the community" as
the New Jersey novelist would say.
was a veritable boon. The old Met was
getting frowsy and squalid. The new
one Is a joyous. sparkling affair that
does the eyes good. The old idea OF Pu-
ritanic plainness has been abandoned.
There are curves and artistic roundings
and the most magnificent use of cleo
trictty for lighting purposes that has yet
been seen In New York. When in the
full glow of its nine thousand nine hun
dred and n%inety-nine electric globules.
the Metropolitan Opera-House is indie
scribably beautiful. 1t looks like fairy
land-a smile that is always agreeable,
inasmuch as nobody has ever seen fairy
land. Every gallery last night was black
with people, except those containing the
boxes, which were blue and white and
red and yellow and green and golden.
The foyers were alive with a parading
crowd, and men and women sat in the
ais.es and made themselves comfortable.
The dlsSraceful pens into which the
holders of admission tickets were for
merry ushered have been abolished. The
standing room is now vast and satisfac-
tory to all.
Faust" was the opera-not that 1t
mattered much to the Metropolitan pa
irons. They were not there TO vent en-
thusi2sm over singers and music. They
would have been perfectly satisfied to
look at themselves and at the house. In
spite OF this. "Faust" was the opera, and
It was kind and thoughtful of Messrs.
Abbey, Schoeffel & Grau to present it..
1t was sung with the ideal cast that
lured the last Italian opera season from
a G"cadfully threatening abyss of failure.
one member OF the cast was unavoidably
absent. 1t was Mime. Scalchi. who, as we
al Know, refuses to sing when she has
dined too generously. Perhaps she had
dined generously last night. The role OF
Siebel was intrusted to a pleasant little
nobody known as OLYMPIA Guercla, whose
notes had to be separated from a tremolo
of no mean proportions. Jean de Reszke
was greeted with much applause, but he
ill not sing as well as formerly. Perhaps
this was due to a long indisposition: per-
haps IL WAS due to wear and tear or to
d faultiness In the acoustic properties of
the new environment. At any rate there
was a muiilcd quality TO his notes. At
first you thought he was saving himself
up for his big scenes. but these big
scenes. although we'll interpreted, were
not as effective as two years ago. Still,
Jean de ResZke has won his spurs, and
II he chose to stand on his head and
sing with his feet. no very ~stupendOus
objection would be offered. Edouard de
ResZke was as imposing as ever. His
Mephistopheles was a splendid piece Of
work, his grandly resonant notes being
absolutely unchanged. Miss Emma
Eames was a bewitching and a tuneful
Marguerite, cold as ice. but admirable
just the same. That Miss Games is not
a "furrin' artist is evident. If she were,
she would be by this time fat and I'M
wieldy. rolling over the stage and war
bling with oleaginous fervor. Mile.
Bauermeister was Marta; Jean Lassalle.
more ponderous than ever, Valentine, and
Sig. Vaschetti. Wagner.
The chorus was unusually good. The
old costumes, that looked like the over
flow from a ~secoAd-act shop on Avenue
3. have been replaced by new s~pick-and-
span garbs. 1t seems as though the old
ladies had also been consumed. for there
were patches Of sprightly girls. with
voices and appearances. The orchestra,
conducted by Sig. Luigi MancineIli, was
very ~loud-loud enough, at one time, TO
drown the combined voices OF the De
Reszkes. or course. an orchestra IS nice
when there is nothing else. but when tine
main attraction is supplied by the artists
themselves 1t should be held in check.
Faust will probably be repeated rlany
times, for its popularity Is undimmed.
There will be less enthusiasm and much
smaller audiences for the other operas
OF the repertoire. ALAN DALE.