excerpt from 'Thirty Years of Musical Life in London, 1870-1900' pp. 289-90 (470 words)
excerpt from 'Thirty Years of Musical Life in London, 1870-1900' pp. 289-90 (470 words)
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The Don Jose of Jean de Reszke has been variously criticized. I hold the opinion, however, not only that it was, and still is, a superb embodiment, but that it did a great deal to restore to the character the musical and histrionic value which it had gradually been losing in inverse ratio to the ever-growing prominence of the central figure of the opera. For this reason I quote some lines that I penned anent M. de Reszke's impersonation at the time: He showed us that it was as easy for one great artist to revive the importance and enhance the interest of a good role as for twenty mediocrities to drag it down to the level of their own talent. It goes without saying that the Polish tenor copied nobody's Don Jose in particular. He knew the traditions of the character, just as he learned those of Sir Walter von Stolzing by visiting Bayreuth. He read his Merimee and carefully studied his libretto; but like an artist of individuality and resource, he also thought the part out for himself. The result, curiously enough, was a conception more closely resembling Campanini's than any we have seen since. It was free from the melodramatic exaggeration into which other tenors had fallen. Take, as an instance, the last act. M. de Reszke did not make himself up like a starved ghost, neither did he rush about like a savage animal in a cage. He looked the picture of despair, and he made his piteous appeal to Carmen with the tone of a man who is yearning for love, not for an excuse to commit murder. When at last driven to extremities, he did not gloat over his revenge nor chase his victim from corner to corner as a cat might chase a mouse. He simply stood at the entrance to the bull-ring, and when Carmen made her attempt to escape, he seized his dagger as by a sudden impulse and stabbed her as she was endeavoring to pass him. An instant later he was leaning over her lifeless body in tears, horror-stricken at the deed he had committed. This surely was the true reading of the episode. Nor was it the only scene upon which M. Jean de Reszke, with rare artistic insight, contrived to throw a new and consistent light. He depicted with wonderful subtlety and skill the gradual stages by which Don Jose is drawn under Carmen's fascinating influence. Fierce and absorbing passion revealed itself in his facial expression, his gestures, and, above all, the thrilling tones of his voice. Never before has the beautiful passage where Jose brings forth the flower that Carmen gave him and tells her how it cheered his lonely prison hours, been invested with such charm of voice and such tenderness and warmth of delivery. |
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