Saturday Evening Gazette/June 7, 1856/Operatic Concerts in Boston
OPERATIC CONCERTS IN BOSTON.
On Wednesday and Friday evening M’lle Vestavali’s company gave, at the Boston Theatre, selections from various operas, chiefly in costume, but without chorus or other action than such as might be got up by the principals engaged with her. Signor E. Barili was apologized for on the first evening, and when he did appear, his illness, the effect of a severe fever and ague, originally contracted in Mexico, but recurring here with great prostration of physical energy was too evident for any comment upon his performance. What he may be when in health we cannot judge, but his attempt to sing on Friday was a mistake. M’lle Vestvali is now in the full bloom and vigor of personal attraction. Her action, gestures, stage tread and general bearing, all portent exuberant health and immense physique. In the management of her voice there is evident improvement, and the ear is less distressed with the sound of two voices than at her first appearance here. On the other hand the voice is not so fresh or true as before and gives evidence of hard usage in dramatic task work. There is little finish, grace, or correctness in her execution, but a dash abandon and vigor that move the masses to applause, in spite of all defects of time or tone. Signora Manzini has a pretty face, a light, flexible and generally true soprana, and occasionally her execution is worthy unreserved approval.
She gave the scena and cavatina from Ernani in excellent style on the first night, and really startled the audience into enthusiasm, but on Friday it was nearly a failure, and in the grand finale of that opera, she with the tenor made a downright fiasco. Signor Ceresa announced as Primo Tenore Assoluta, from the Italian Opera, Paris, is unquestionably a great acquisition to the lyric stage, in declamative and impassioned music. Endowed with a pure tenor voice running up to B and C in alto with certainty and wondrous volume, he also possesses the fire, intensity, and glowing enthusiasm which thrill and move a public to frantic applause. He was first heard of at Niblo’s saloon last autumn, where his magnificent delivery and flood of true musical tone upon notes in alto, his wonderful sustenance of, and cresendo upon those extremes of the scale usually taken by dramatic tenors, either in falsetto, a weak hesitating attack or spasmodic explosion, absolutely electrified the most blaze and practised ears. We heard Signor Ceresa in that saloon a short time since, and were forcibly impressed with his command of those high notes which other tenors look up to with fear and trembling, or reach upon tiptoe. He excited a hurricane of applause then, and with the ever great Badlall gave the challenge duet from Lucia with a breadth of declamation, a glowing warmth and rich profusion of tone which even to our lively remembrance of Bettini seemed really unsurpassable. He there sang with grand piano forte accomplishment. Like Mirste, his best efforts come out where he is humored in accompaniment.
His triumph here was somewhat affected by the want of sympathy between the singer and the accompanists, but his delivery of the aria from Rigolette, “Woman is fickle” and Manrico’s great song from “Il Trovatore,” produced on both evenings a furore and enthusiastic redemands. The latter seemed to glow with new life and in his treatment redeem Verdi’s most popular opera from the charge that his tenor had naught but pretty little bits of trolling melody to perform. We doubt if even Tamberlik can equal Ceresa in this. Verdi himself would have applauded this performance and freely awarded the somewhat awkward and ungainly Ceresa the palm for just treatment of his soul-stirring music.
Ceresa failed in “Spirito gentil” so utterly that he wisely omitted it the second night. That style of music is not for him, but Salvi or Mario. He lacks style and finish and his intonation is not uniformly safe in making those violent and sudden contrasts he so much delights in. To sing piano and yet be true, clear and round in articulation and enunciation is the highest attainment of a singer. That Ceresa has yet to learn if he would be deemed a primo tenore assoluto.
Threatening weather prevented suburbans from attending Vestvali’s performance this afternoon. But few city folks were present, either from the same cause or for lack of novelty in the programme. In some respects this performance was better than either of its predecessors. Signora Mansini acquitted herself admirably in the duet from “Elisire d’Amore,” and in the trio from Ernani really deserved a full share of the hearty acquaintance with the public and the stage upon which his death scene is enacted. She looked and acted the despairing lover to a marvel, doing her very best to leave a favorable impression upon the city of notions. Signor Ceresa was somewhat annoyed by a cold, but in the gypsy scene and trio from Ernani he made a decided advance in public estimation. Could he die naturally and without mirth-provoking contortions, his Ernani would be acceptable to all. Signor Barili had somewhat regained his voice, and in the duet with Signora Manzini the audience acknowledged his claims to rank with artists. Under such unfavorable circumstances all the performers deserved credit and received it amply. We hear there is a prospect that the company will give performances next week when an entire opera will be given. In would result successfully.
The Lesson of the Sword.—One night a warrior was examining the blade of his sword by the light of a lamp, which was suspended over a polished mahogany table.
“Touch the point of my blade to the surface of the table,” said the sword, “and then tell me what you see.”
“I see a shadow on one side, and a reflection on the other.”
“Very true,” answered the sword; “and their starting points touch, do they not?”
“They touch,” said the warrior.
“Now lift my point higher in the air.”
He did so; and the higher the sword arose, the further the streak of light receded from the streak of darkness.
“Now, lower my point downwards,” said the blade.
And lo! the more rapidly did the two contrasting columns approach each other.
“Thou hast taught me a good lesson,” said the warrior, sheathing his weapon, and uttering a short prayer. “It is even so with the human soul in her downward flight from virtue; it is thus that, when in contact with the earth she reflects a gleam of heaven on one side, and casts a shadow of sin on the other. The two touch each when she touches the earth, and recede continually as she ascends nearer heaven.”
Whitewash.—At this season of the year, economical housekeepers will thank us for the following receipt for making whitewash. Take a half bushel of nice unslacked lime; slake it with boiling water, cover it during the process to keep in the stream. Strain the liquid through a fine sieve or strainer, and add to it a peck of clean salt, previously well dissolved in warm water; three pounds of ground rice, boiled to a thin paste, and stirred in boiling hot; half a pound of clean glue, which has been previously dissolved by first soaking it well, and then hanging it over a slow fire, in a small kettle within a large one filled with water. Add five gallons of hot water to the whole mixture; stir it well, and let it stand a few days, covered from the dirt. It should be put on right hot; for this purpose, it can be kept in a kettle on a portable furnace. It is said that about a pint of this mixture will cover a square yard upon the outside of a house, if properly applied. By the introduction of coloring matter, it may be made of any desirable shade but green—green is said to act unfavorably upon the lime.
Conclude at least nine parts in ten of what is handed about by common fame to be false.