THE THEATRES.
TUESDAY night was one of considerable excitement in musical and theatrical circles ; for another KEMBLE was to appear for the first time on the English stage. Perhaps no candidate for public favour ever commenced a career under more auspicious circumstances, or ever encountered an audience more predisposed to applaud and admire. The Kembleites of a former generation were there to welcome the niece of SIMONS to the boards—the younger admirers of FANNY KEMBLE to greet her sister. And the great danger which accompanies the possession of an honoured name and of inherited talent was in the present case avoided. Miss KEMBLE was to appear on the stage once adorned by the genius of her illustrious aunt, but in a position which challenged no dangerous comparison, awakened no perilous reminiscences. • Another favourable circumstance was, that the public has got hold of a theory that the second race of KEMBLES were des- tined to give us the finest actress and also the first singer of their day ; a theory which they flocked to the theatre predisposed to confirm.
Before we notice Miss KEMBLE'S performance, it will be necessary to say a word on the opera which she selected for her debut. We re- gard the choice as an injudicious one. An English version of a modern Italian opera is music in its lowest form. With all the advantages of language, fine singing, unity of style and embellishment, in its perform- ance on the Italian stage, Norma has no just claim to be regarded as a great opera. Its real merits as a work bf art are very low ; and there needs no other evidence of the poverty of the present Italian school than the position it is there allowed to hold. Every thing is good or bad by comparison : in deep twilight the blaze of a farthing candle is brilliancy, and in the "dim eclipse" of Italian genius the tiny twinkle of BELLINI may seem a blaze of splen- dour—but nowhere else. Such a work, divested of its language and its poetry, bereft of the singers who alone know how to deal with it, pro- duced in plain prose and by English singers, is a thing to laugh at—a ludicrous and misshapen abortion—devoid of natural vigour, and suited to none but the most vulgar hearers. To persons of refined and culti- vated taste it can offer little attraction in any form ; while to the real or pretended admirers of the original work, its English version must seem a miserable travestie. We have heard similar attempts in Ger- many, and with the same success. Italian operas are suited only to the Italian language and Italian singers. Thus it is that we regard Miss KEMBLE'S selection as injudicious. If her aim is to be the prima donna in the operas of MERCADANTE and BELLINI, her place is the Italian Opera stage, where she would be surrounded by persons of her own taste and training, instead of being associated with Mr. Ilennisox and Mr. LEFFLER—the Rumm and LABLACHE of Covent Garden.
Let us now tarn to the performance of Tuesday night, and especially that of Miss KEMBLE. Her face and person remind us of both her father and mother. Her figure has more of the embonpoint of Mrs. C. KEMBLE when she left the stage, than of the graceful DE CAMP of old Drury. Her face, in repose, has much of the KEMBLE grandeur of outline ; but in speaking or singing, the lineaments of her mother's countenance are the most prominent. She inherits the histrionic propensities, if not all the powers, of the KEMBLES ; walking the stage and going through its business with the ease, nature, and vigour of a practised artist. We trembled for her commencement ; for her reception, and the remem- brance of what she was and where she stood, might, most excusably, have rendered articulation almost impossible : but there was not the slightest falter in her voice, or absence of complete self-possession. Her delivery is distinct, but not good : every word of the recitatives was clearly enunciated, but not well pronounced : her articulation was that of an Italian who had been drilled into English pronunciation. We can hardly suspect Miss KEMBLE of the affectation of desiring to appear more foreign than English ; and it may be only the unconscious result of exclusive practice in the Italian recitative. In either case, it Is a defect, which she will do well to correct. Her voice is of large compass and power—two good octaves—firm and sound in tone, and pleasing in quality. It commends itself at once to the ear, and satisfies all its desires. Miss KEMBLE, therefore, possesses the first requisite to form a great singer : but she possesses also the second—without which the first is but "sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal "—she possesses mind. She understands the true purpose of vocal music, and employs it accordingly. Her singing is full of passion and energy—not that sham, conventional sort of declamation, which comes at certain ap- pointed times and places, which explodes on certain passages, no matter on what word, and which the hearer knows as well when to expect as the striking of the quarters in a clock ; but the spontaneous emotion of the heart venting itself in appropriate musical sounds. She is able, if she be so disposed, to deal with music of a much higher order than that of Exuma or any of his school. Her powers of execution are good, and quite sufficient for all good purposes ; but execution is not her forte— it is something much higher and better. In the mere neat execution of a difficult passage, Miss BIRCH would beat her ; but this is a superiority which Miss KEMBLE can well afford to spare. The greatest evidence of her genius as an artist consisted, not in her execution of the passages an "Casta Diva "—to which we listened with cold approbation, but in
her utterance of two words : when in the last scene she is asked to dis- close the name of the traitress, her reply " 'Tis Norma!" at once brought the tears to our eyes, and we acknowledged Miss lizsunds power. There was no shout—no claptrap—no appeal to the hands of her auditors ; but a subdued tone of anguish and remorse, which went at once to their hearts.
We need scarcely add that the reception of the debutante was all that she could have wished or hoped ; and she fairly earned the plaudits which she received. What Miss KEMBLE may be, we have heard enough to know : what she will be, time must telL Her present posi- tion is an equivocal one. If she has no higher ambition than to be an English double of the prima donna of the Queen's Theatre, she will occupy but a second rank in her profession. The place of first English singer on the stage and in the concert-room is vacant: that place she is competent to fill, and to that we hope she will aspire. Of her train- ing, her acquirements, or her tastes, we know nothing : but, with the most cordial wishes for her success, we would remind her that great talents can only find their fitting employ on great objects. Had Mrs. SIDDONS confined herself to such plays as Zara and similar translations of French tragedies, we might and must have admired her talents, but could we have ascertained their gigantic power without the aid of SHAM:WERE? HOME'S Douglas Or SOUTHERNE'S Isabella might afford a single opportunity for that sort of display which Miss KEMBLE made in Norma; but the charm of her Lady Macbeth or Queen Katharine consisted not in the delivery of detached passages, or in a few heart- rending exclamations, but in the complete personation of characters fall of interest at every step, and the absorption of the actress in her part. The other performers should not be altogether omitted in our notice. Miss KAINFORTH'S Adalgisa was the best match to a Norma we have yet heard : in the well-known duet, "Deb, con te," the voices of the singers were so nearly of a quality, that the response of each seemed almost like an echo of the same : she fairly shared the laurels with Miss KEMBLE. HARRISON'S Pollio was ludicrous beyond descrip- tion; and LEFFLER was quite out of his element in Oroveso. The choruses, such as they are, were well sung : but they consist of little more than a single phrase, sometimes sung duet-wise, but more com- monly in unison. The orchestra was committed to the able guidance of Mr. BENEDICT: we only wished that he had appeared there to con- duct his own music.
As regards the scenic arrangements and stage appointments the opera has been got up in magnificent style. The fancy is carried back to the primitive habits of a remote age by the picturesque repre- sentations of the Druidical temples : for these the fragments of Stone- henge have served the artist as a model, which he has followed so faithfully that even the green hue of the inner range of stones, as well as the relative proportions of the different circles, is copied. Crimson draperies embroidered with the symbol of the serpent, and the various other accessories that swell the sacerdotal pomp of the processions fill the sacred groves with gorgeous hues; the white vestments of the priests and the gray robes of the bards being enlivened by the particoloured costumes of the British soldiers. And not only is the mind supplied with images of the past, but the dramatic action of the story is carried on by the animated groups of the chorus.
Mr. TROUGHTON'S tragedy of Nina Sforza has met with a greater degree of success on the stage than its undramatic construction led us to anticipate : for this he is much indebted not only to the powerful acting of Mr. MACREADY, but to the judicious alterations suggested by that gentleman ; obligations which the author most handsomely acknow- ledges in his preface to the acted version of the play. Its production for the benefit of Miss HELEN FAucrr was not altogether a super- fluous precaution : the fulness of the Haymarket on Tuesday, notwith- standing the strong counter-attraction at Covent Garden—the silent tribute of mute attention, and even tears, that mingled with the ap- plause—showed that the performance of the previous night must have had a stronger hold on the public than the indulgence propitiated by the claims of a popular actress ; but there was ground for apprehension of failure, even in the very climax of the passion ; and as it was, some hisses burst forth at the critical point. The interest of the drama centres, as it should do, in the heroine, Nina Sforza—a very Juliet in the suddenness and violence of her first love : her Romeo, Raphael Doria, a wayward libertine prince, is not less ardently enamoured of her; and the impetuosity of the lovers meets with no check to prevent their instant marriage : Doria proves inconstant, Nina takes poison, and the husband in a fit of 'remorse stabs himself. Such is the bare outline of the story ; but to complete a sketch of the plot, mention must be made of a prominent figure, who forms a principal part of the group, and is mixed up with the incidents, but yet has so little influence over the course of events, that to all real purposes he is merely an accessory : this is Ugone Spinola, the villain of the play—an Iago without the wit, subtlety, or power of that master-fiend of mischief. Spinola, the head of a rival house over which that of Doria had gained the ascendancy, has become a follower and professed friend of the prince, in order to seek occasion of revenge: but so dull is his invention, or so patient his appetite, that he is content to feed his vindictiveness by chuckling at the sea-sickness of the object of his malignity, and urging him to under- take a war ; until the infidelity of the newly-married man affords him the glorious opportunity of telling the wife what she herself might have seen and would have discovered without his assistance. So abortive are his purposes, that he even lets Dario carry off Nina, whom he had des- tined for himself; and instead of killing his rival, as he might fairly have done in a duel, he provides a dose of poison for the injured wife to give to her faithless spouse ; but she contrives that her husband shall administer it to herself: seeing that Spinola compounded the deadly potion, one almost wonders it took effect at all; as it is, it makes quick work, instead of being slow in its operations as he intended. Altogether, a more impotent, paltry, and miserable scoun- drel, never exemplified the meanness and futility of revenge, or the punishment that envy, hatred, and malice, inflict on their victim. This disagreeable, unnatural, and superfluous character, though too base and too imbecile to excite tragic emotions, is so finely embodied by MACREADY, that it exercises a fascination over the audience, mainly derived from the picturesque force of the artist : though actually inno- cuous, Spinola yet appears to shed a baleful influence over the scene; and baffled as his schemes of vengeance are, he gloats over the wretchedness promoted but not caused by his arts. Without departing from the costume proper to the Italian of the middle ages, MACREADY throws into its style some touches of Itsrasca's Mephistopheles, that assist in conveying a sense of the fiendlike malignity and callousness of Spinola's nature. His habitual look is gloomy and morose, dashed with occasional gleams of sneering levity, and fiercer outbursts of vindictive fury and hatred : his face is hardly expressive enough of the cunning purpose and exultation of a pertinacious plotter ; but it must be conceded that Spinola has more of ill-nature than cleverness. When, towards the end, he becomes a more active and influential agent of evil, the actor's energies blaze forth ; the rude vehemence with which he thrusts the letter containing the first proof of Doria's infidelity into the face of Nina, scorching her eyes and withering her heart—the demoniac glare of exation which lights up his grim visage, as he points out to the agonize rife her truant husband stealing to the arms of a para- mour—and the cold-blooded look of triumph with which he turns aside with the point of his sword the dress of the prostrate Doria, to gaze on the senseless face of his rival, walking round him like a tiger prowling over his prey—these are traits of the actor's art that denote not only intellectual skill but imaginative power. This last-mentioned scene reached the revolting point, and provoked the hisses of the more sen- sitive portion of the audience : but the author only was to blame ; Mac- READY did but express boldly and finely the spirit of the incident, which is simply shocking. In the bands of any other performer, the character of Spinola would have been intolerable. Miss HELEN Faucrr, as Nina Sforza, depicts the conflicting emo- tions of the wronged yet forgiving wife, with an intensity alternately rising to frantic wildness and subsiding to the mournful stillness of desolation : the vehement burst of scorn and anger with which she at first spurns the accusation of Spinola, the anguish of her doubts, her ago- nizing gaze of horror and suspense as she tracks the footsteps of her faithless husband, and the blank of hopeless despondency from which she seeks relief in the fondness of pitying forgiveness towards the re- pentant offender, so vividly express the pathos of the character, that trivial blemishes are lost sight of in the excellence of the whole. Mr. WALLACH'S performance of Raphael Doria displays the skill and force of a practised actor, and is besides characterized by a degree of refine- ment and tenderness in the scenes with Nina that give a grace to his gallantry : we are glad to note this return to the best style of his ante- American career. Mrs. CLIFFORD merits praise for her clever and effective personation of Brigitta Sforza, the duenna aunt ; whom she made amusing without sacrificing the dignity of the patrician dame- s nice point to hit. Having on the first appearance of the published tragedy briefly cha- racterized its merits and defects as a dramatic composition, we revert to them here only to express a hope that the experience derived from its representation will enable Mr. TROUGHTON to essay another play with better success. The power of developing character in action, and of giving utterance to strong passion, is evident in the fourth and fifth acts, which contain the pith and marrow of the story. The three first acts are little else but introductory matter, consisting of circumstances many of them unessential, which might have been indicated inci- dentally in thecourse of the subsequent dialogue. It is an error com- mon to inexperienced dramatists to begin at the very beginning, in- stead of dashing at once in median res: a plot should open with the result of foregone occurrences, disclosing the past by implication from the present, and leading the course of events rapidly onward, with an ac- celerated movement, to the final catastrophe. The half-price visiters who see but the two last acts of Nina Sforza will have no less an under- standing and a more favourable impression of the tragedy than those who have sat it out from the commencement.
After the tragedy, an afterpiece called the Quadroon Slave, which had been produced on the Saturday previous, was repeated. It turns upon the rivalry of two young Jamaica planters for Julie—a beautiful and accomplished girl, who, though she has no tinge of Negro blood in her complexion, proves to be the born slave of the unsuccessful suitor : he, though a friend to Emancipation, claims her in a fit of revenge, but sub- sequently manumits her in a fit of compunction, and she becomes the wife of her Anti-Abolitionist lover. Madame CELESTE, as the Quadroon Slave, exhibits some clever pantomime ; but, though she makes some startling points, her performance is altogether too artificial to be touch- ing. Wansrsa the younger, as the disappointed lover, plays with spirit and energy the rash and fiery but generous youth ; and WEBSTER senior is amusing in a buffo part.
At the Adelphi, the grand splash in the real water continues to attract admiring crowds ; to whom the diverting antics of WIELAND afford abundant amusement. It is now followed by a petite comedy, of in- genious construction and French origin, called The Maid of honour; in which a Queen of Spain and an intriguing Dutchess both find a success- ful rival in the person of an innocent little court milliner, who has been promoted to the office of Maid of Honour, and, by the aid of a diplo- matic Duke, secures her lover, a young page, in spite of the arts of her powerful rivals. Mrs. YATES, as the Queen enamoured of the page, thwarted by her mistress of the robes and foiled by her prime minister, is not only dignified but touching under her discomfiture : it is a delicate and finished piece of acting. Miss CHAPLIN, as the heroine, shows cleverness ; but her unconscious simplicity has not the charm of sen- sibility. YATES, as the Count Olivarez, is the life of the piece : he is not only the most adroit but the most amusing and nonchalant of pre- miers, tripping through the mazes of court intrigues with as much ease and gayety as through the figure of a quadrille. The dresses an appointments are splendid, as becomes a court. A farcical burletts, entitled Dobson and Co., affords Mr. WRIGHT a capital opportunity for indulging his peculiar humour, in the part of a retired tradesman of suspicious nature, who is panic-struck at discovering that the widow he has just taken to wife had half-a-dozen husbands before, each of whom has made his exit at a very short notice. The smiling complacency of the buxom dame, contrasted with the alarm of her apprehensive hus- band, as the catalogue of his wife's widow hoods is lengthened one by one, is very diverting ; and his agonies of terror are exhibited with excessively ludicrous effect by WRIGHT.
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