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Show OPEEATIC AND UUUD Jlfiir. It is singular that concert troupes will persist in giving to a promiscuous public a surplus of music whose only merit lies in difficulty of execution, and ignore the universal appreciation of ballad melody. We are half inclined inclin-ed to agree with a recent writer in IIarj,er'i Miga-inz, that there is no miL-ic in the song of birds, an idea based upon the fact that there is a want of connection between notes. There is beyond doubt some music in a solitaire note, but it is the blending of notes that constitutes the soul of music. What are called Tyrolese warblings, and the trilling of cavatinas, are very like the song of birds in the estimate : of the writer referred to. Jenny Lind 1 and Catherine Hayes made their great reputations in singing sweet and simple ballads, free from the nonsense of the miss of variations that ordinarily smother the tunc. And it is the arias, or ballads, in opera that always win the appreciation of both cultivated and uncultivated. un-cultivated. When these are being sung the audience is all attention, but when the dialogue of the opera is being chaunted, we find out why ladies dress so particularly for this kind of exhibition, exhibi-tion, for then opera glasses are leveled and female cloaks, hats, feathers and features undergo what under other circumstances cir-cumstances would be considered an impudent im-pudent scrutiny. Miss Stevenson has a sweet, flexible and powerful voice. In comparison with some of her notes, the warble of a canary sounds harsh and the vibration of an Eolian has a bronichal twang, but like nearly all prima donnas she makes the mistake of supposing that a trilled cavatina is the highest melody, and the higher as it is difficult to execute. The orchestra falls into a somewhat similar mistake and reckons the rapid ity of the quiver of the elbow of the violinist, and the alititude of his hand on the finger board of his fiddle, as the highest art in the manufacture of sweet sounds. The audience foolishly follow alter, and reach the climax of absurdity absurd-ity by vociferously applauding the lightning change from an altissimo violin vio-lin solo, to a forty-stamp quartz mill basso of horns and drums and cymbals. In fine, we think there is a great deal of humbuggcry in operatic music, and believe that so i'ar from this opinion being the result of a lack of musical education, as professors of music always al-ways promptly assert when it is given, that an untutored savage can detect the gems of the opera. |