The Theater: Half-New Operetta

Gypsy Lady (music by Victor Herbert ; book by Henry Myers; produced by Edwin Lester) has turn-of-the-century music and a brand-new book, and it’s hard to say which seems older. There is no question which seems pleasanter: the tunes borrowed from Victor Herbert’s The Fortune Teller and The Serenade are melodious and nicely sung. But they are not quite pleasant enough to offset the damp-towel libretto or save an evening.

The libretto is itself a gypsy, decked out in every tarnished bit of satin and velvet in the operetta ragbag—Romany life, dukes, marquises, matinee idols, ballet dancers, imposture, revenge—and Paree. None of this has either a true romantic glow or a sly satiric glitter. The gypsy heroine who aches to be a lady (Helena Bliss) soon has all the more eligible tenors in the cast at her feet—but returns in the end to Sandor, her rough gypsy mate. For though Sandor may lack pelf and polish, he has the sock tune in the show, that great old Victor Herbert chestnut, Gypsy Love Song.