Music: Battistini

German currency is worth almost nothing yet $12 in American money was paid for good seats at the National Opera in Berlin when Mattia Battistini, the famous Italian baritone, now over 60, made his only appearance of the season. He sang the role of Scarpia in Tosca.

Battistini, said to be the only surviving exponent of the purest bel canto, has never let the American dollar lure him across the Atlantic. The reason is that he has a mortal fear of seasickness.

Beggar’s Gold

John Gay’s The Beggar’s Opera closed in London. It opened just three years and seven months ago and had a run of 1,463 consecutive performances. This record has been eclipsed only twice, by Chu Chin Chow and Charley’s Aunt. There were days, however, when The Beggar’s Opera held the endurance record from all comers. When it originally opened in London in the 1700’s it had the longest run that any play had had until that time—50 consecutive evenings, if memory serves. It was said at the time that “It made Gay (the author) rich and Rich (the producer) gay. If they were alive today, Mr. Gay would be even richer and Mr. Rich almost idotic with delight.

Nevertheless, the London critics marvelled at the recent run of The Beggar’s Opera. They said it did not contain the “charm and spirit” of Gilbert and Sullivan; that it is inferior “artistically and musically.”

In spite of aspersions, The Beggar’s Opera has its points. It was written as a parody on the Continental operas then being played in London and on the debauched court life of the period. A highwayman was made the hero instead of the usual sugary prince, and his morals were made somewhat better than those of the court. For music Gay took the popular ballads and wrote new lyrics—satirical, delightful, tart. The result has the vigor of all things born from the spirit of the people as opposed to gross artificiality. Its success in London must be attributed principally to this cause.

Another Anvil Chorus

Ziegfeld Wagner, son of the Great Richard, was the author of a new opera presented last week at Rostock, The Blacksmith of Marienburg. The audience was not thrilled. “A mediocre son of a famed father,” sighed the critics.

Neither the orchestra score nor the libretto had the force of art. It was too ambitious a project for the modest talents of Ziegfeld, the son. The opera as it was savored only of a poor imitation of Richard, the father.