The Washington weekly post., 1899-05-30
WHERE MISERY MAKES BERRY.
Quaint italian Music Hail In the Heart of
New York.

the amusement directories, nor are tns
happenings there often chronicled in the
new spapers. Indeed. IL is doubtful II any
OF the regular h2bituss OF the place ever
see either of these promoters Of publicity.
yet the auditorium is filed 10 the doors
every night OF the week, and the per-
formanees 20 blithely on. unknown 10.
and therefore unhampered BY. the pessi-
mistic critics.
The main doorway 20 this quaint play
house is gained by a descent OF three
slippery stone steps. and when one enters
what might. by an e1aggeration OF cour-
tesy, be termed the foyer. the scene that
presents Itself reminds one of the descriD-
ticns OF the Partisan haunts Of Francois
V.Hon. So, at least, did 1t impress Mirror
reporter who happened to enter there one
night last week
The low-studded room was filed with
Eestlculating Italians, some Of whom, in
little groups, carried on volcanic conver-
sations, while a number of the more
sedate engaged in games Of dice az the
long tables on either side or the open
fire. Among his patrons walked Scrimag-
LA, the manager. bowling 10 this one and
that. and exchanging the gossip OF the
quarter with the old men. An odor OF
garlic and tobacco reeked in the air
Suddenly, at the sound OF a burst Of
music, the lolterers made a movement
through the curtained arch and hastily
found seats for themselves in the dimin-
utive theater. The long. narrow, and So
verely plain auditorium was in a moment
filed with as strange an audience as
could likely be found in any place OF
amusement in the world. There were
OliVe-skinned boys, who by day preside
over humble fruit stands; sleek prOprie-
tors OF corner groceries and saloons; wiry,
hard-visaged men who gain their daily
bread by operating street pianos. and
aged wrecks whose bent shoulders and
piercing eyes marked them unmistakably
as rag-pickers- The pathetic note IN the
picture was not the misery Of u, but tnGt
this misery was, for the time, masquerad-
ing as happiness.
An orchestra OF half dozen pieces
played. for an overture, medley of op-
cratic airs, and at its conclusion the e
porter turned from his study Of the audi
erce TO take note OF The meager little
Stage.
The proscenium arch vas not more than
tel feet high. and in depth and width the
stage did not exceed the same scanty
measurement. The scene-lf such !; might
be Called-repres5nivd plain interior
There were two entrances, one at either
side; and In the drop was window
through which a badly painted view of
the Bay of Naples was visible.
AT signal from the music director the
orchestra began the introduction 70 a
Venetian boat song, and the men in the
audience leaned forward eagerly as SignO-
rina Elisa NeneZia danced forward to the
f0otlights. She was not pretty woman
according To the theatrical notion of
prettiness-but when the red blood surged
into her swarthy cheeks and the Iirs of
the Latin races glowed in her eyes she
carried her hearers with her 20 the land
of her birth and theirs. She sang tne
song of her country, not with the plain
tive voice of an exile, but as one who
could dream happily of Venice while sur
rounded by the squalOr of Varick place.
When she had finished the clappIng of
hands and the shouting of 'bravas" was
almost deafening. A fOw-brOwsd NeapOli-
tan, sitting next to the reporter, increaS-
ed the din by beating the table with
slung-shot, which, in his enthusiasm. he
absent-mindedly drew from an inner
pocket.
Then came a Pierrot turn-a comic,
with extraordinary vim by one SignOr
Stoppa. The performer was recalled
again and again, and for each encore he
came out willing, fresh, and laughing.
There was an artistic finish aoout this
mans work that told of long training
and suggested, in a way, a different at
mosphere from that of the Cosmopolitan
Concert Hall.
The reporter sought Scrimagia. the
manager, when the turn was done and
was readily gwen, and Signor Stoppa
welcomed the reporter cordially 10 his
dressing-room. II am happy that you en-
loyed my work." he said, in excellent
English. THE stage is too small for
dancing, as you can see, but then one
cannot expect a stage like that of La
Scala at a place like this. / have danced
AT La Scala! Oh. yes, signOr. AMI at
nearly every other great theater of Eu-
rope. Thirty years ago, when / was a
little boy, / learned ballet dancing in
my native Italy. l became a premier
danseur and appeared in many of the
grand opera ballets. besides great pdntO-
mines and spectaculars. For two wears
part in the Venetian Nights perform
ances. Then i Travelled through India
and Australia and all over South Ameri-
ca Yes. signor, l have sung and danced
in many lands"
Through the open door came the sound
of spirited dance tune, and the two men
looked out upon the diminutiVe stage
where a girl in tawdry yellow costume
with the throb of the orchestra.
Signor StopDa read the question that
came 10 the reporters mind. You won
der why i am here" he said, smiling
IT is because in your country, at the best
tneaters, the people do not care for the
male ballet dancer. No deXterity or per-
fection in my art is so interesting 10
them as this" and he indicated with
a gesture the dancing woman in the glare
of the fOotights.
The reporter went back TO his seat in
front, where the gentleman Of the slung-
shot greeted him with request .or a
cigarette. 'Gooda show" muttere1 the
Italian contentedly. between puffs; and
settled hack in his chair with his ewes
fixed hungrily on the stage
Ihe good nature of the men N The audi-
ence was infectious. Whenever a point
was made by performer the lookers-cn
nGdded ana smiled at each 1tner. An ape
like old man tOttered through the crowd
selling cakes. He CrOuchcd down On his
EoN 10 listen 10 the song Of a frnwsy
American girl who came Wearily from The
Wings. The American girls turn was
witless and suggestive Ii would have
succeeded, no doubt. on Br1aiiWay buT il
was too vulgar for Varick place
After the orchestra had PLAYED as an
lnterluder a selection from III Trovatorn"
handsome Italian woman, dressed in a
" from the wings There was quick
AN Of expectation from the audience
as the artistic unrOiled ner music aud Th1
plalnst struck the Introductory chords to
The Palms The singers voice rose ana
swelled in the grand melody. while scarce
ly sound OF breath was heard from the
crowd OF eager-faced men. The sileoce
lasted for an instant after the song was
done. and then the applause became
sharp, like the burst of a storm. Tile
aged cake-seller leaned over the reporters
chair and whispered in a uuiyzriny Voir5
A n, but ii was beautiful, signorr'
one after another the performers an
peared on the little stage. all with an ar
OF sincerity, all shexlng an appreciation
o. the music they sang, and eyery o.,r
receiving his or her just portion Of me
piAudits
AT the last Signor Stoppa again appear
in the grotesque gerb of Pierrnt
this time, but in immaculate evening al
tire. de was a dignified artist now
proud OF his profession and haDpv that
his art would te appreciated by MS audi
cree he sang. with wonderful charm of
expression and oelicacy OF phrasing.
elaintiye italian love song. Upon being
recalled, he rendered the familiar barv7
tone solo from III Trovatore." The men
rose 20 their feet, cheering. Again and
again the singer came forward 10 bow
his thanks-nnally yielding TO the cries
for more by singing the ave Maria -
Many hats were taken of while this was
sung, and as tie last strains died away
a mufree sob broke from the man with
the slungshOt
Slowly and quietly the rag-pickers and
the vendors OF fruit rose from their seats
and passed out into the sQuzlid street
Many OF them. doubtless, went TO sor1id
homes, or sought refuge for the night in |
shadowy doorways: some perhaps. went
on errands Of thieving and robbery.
But be that as II ulay-hoWeVer rrisar-
~ ~ 4F..ks