The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1904-08-07
n CALIFORNIAN
ABROAD.
By Thomas Fitch
FLORENCE.

dreamy, half-absorbed expressions, so
! peculiar to his race, but no gesture of
f! the straight brows, no change of the
/ finely-cut mouth, no look in the hazel
brown eyes told that he felt surprise at
/ our somewhat rude scrutiny. He was,
no doubt, accustomed to it; anyhow he
! looked every inch a king, and as II
he might have been a Count Cavoma
! or a Garibaldi.
/ We have been, for the first time in
italy, to the opera. We paid three
francs each for tickets in that part OF
the house which corresponds with our
orchestra chairs. We repaired to the
place little earlier than is quite usual,
in order to inform ourselves of the, GUS
tom of the assemblage. The conduct OF
the musical part differed in no essen
tiaI way from our own. The orchestra
came loafing in, one after another, IN
that graceful easy, unconscious way,
so absolutely Italian, and not all
French. A set of creamy-sklnned,
dreamy-eyed, ripply-haired, music-lov-
ing, singing, signing, art-worshippers,
and utterly worthless otherwise, 1 have
no doubt; but it was an inspiration TO
look at them. Smoked? OF course they
smoked. from first to last,-as did the
audience,-scarcely giving place be-
tween their firm red lips for the amber
mouth piece, or the silver bindings OF
the flute. But even this must be for
| given them, for the glad acclaim, and
Fellowship of soul with music which
/ foated out with every puff. And some
of the older ones actually sat with their
hats upon their heads during the per-
| Torrance. The opera was Trovatore-
| n n T1O fIj1 Of % %
melodies, with nothing coarse or even
grotesque, but only weird and tanned
with sadness-a marvel of music, If ever
one grew First came the rapid STAG
cato drum-beat, a boy with a round
cap, and floating ribbons among his
| locks, his 1.-the arms f1uttering like the
| wings of an improvised bird His face
| was white as snow, and his broad lit
| tie chest heaved as he shot a glance
at the maestro, only to know if he was
| firm in line. Then few chords, and
notes, and "toots" were sent out as
! scouts and reVeilles and at last bugle
note ushered in the waiting and tumul-
| tous army. But this only for a moment,
| for the curtain arose at once. The
| prima donna was not, as they told me,
| distinguished-only a woman, not an
! actress, a true Florentine singer who
| pleased the people-and so doing pleas
ed US. She was large, dark and hand
| some, and differed from the French
school of artists precisely as the Flor
entine emblem of the white lily differs
| from the strained, theatrical, fantastic,
| twisted fleur-de-Hs. This opera of Yer
| dis is so studded with gems that it
is forever ablaze with glory that daz-
| zles and charms, and exactly where
| the climax came it is hard to know.
| Manrico, with his pure high tenor, re-
| minded me of the lazy sentimental
| Squires, who many years ago used to
sing away by the wash of the western
sea with Lucy Escott, only this man
had more passion in acting and less
pathos of voice. But whether for SYM
pathy with the woes, or love for the
touching, wooing melody, the gypsy
Azucena held the palm for the even
ing. In the prison song her notes re-
minded me of the drip of half-pent
| fountain among the shadows, and when
the lovers discourse in front, the gold
en- thread of her refrain breaks in like
the sheen of an Alpine river over green
meadows and down the Tyrol rocks,
sometimes torn to fragments and tossed
wildly aioft, again gliding softly and
reluctantly to its goal.
/ am haunted by the unhappy con-
viction that Americans, as a nation of
singers, are fast becoming the victims
of misdirected efforts. Our pupils are
talked mad about the management of
the thorax, and the epiglottis, as if ma
ture did not know her business when
she made the birds who have no teach