Sir Arthur SULLIVAN'S LAST OPERA.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXII, Issue 147, 22 June 1901, Page 1 (Supplement)

Sir Arthur SULLIVAN'S LAST OPERA.

■jwra^TOJS^SyE HE "Emerald Isle" — Iff// S *\xi\ which was produced at WffYi 1 Gy^f the Savoy Theatre early \\ c //** *n ay—* d the most de®~\»i i \T* N&htful opera since "The , a J/jJ*! rX ffj Gondoliers"—and .that is jg^Sa^jjK&^g a long time ago. Though the score has not that Ilow of udLnteiTupted melody of Sir Arthur Sullivan's earlier works, it approaches them more nearly than any since the joyous story of the King of Baratariu, and there are numbers in "The Emerald Isle" as delicious, almost, as anything ho has written. Mr Edward German, t(K>, has not only harmonised nnd orchestrated the airs of Sullivan in so sympathetic and observant a spirit that there is not the slightest sense of pntehwork about them, but ho lias eontrl buted original numbers, some of which, for pnro "tune,1" might have been written by Sir Arthur himself. With a score so delicate and dainty, often ear-haunting, always graceful and rellned; with a libretto so witty and ho tender as that provided by the admirable Captain Hood; with acting and singing such as we obtain only at the Savoy—if there still be a public for genuine light opera, "The Emerald Isle" should achieve a success not recently known. A spirited though not exceptionally striking introduction by Mr German begins the work, and a capital Irish chorus, written and scored by Sullivan, shows at once that the right spirit will pervade everything. We soon arrive at the fine, vigorous refrain "Or your own shillelagh unhappily," a genuine Irish song; and then at tie concerted number in which occurs the walling, eerie, haunting phrase, which will linger for a lcng time in the memory, the cry of the Fairy Cleena, "Da Luan, da Mort, dn Lnan, dn Mort Angus da Dardlne"'—one could listen to Miss Louie Pounds singing this for

a very long time. In the second act is the liveliest, catchiest thing in the whole opera, the song and chorus, "Sing a Rhyme of 'Once upon a time,' " which we shall be hearing all over the town before many weeks are over. These, with others less distinctive and inspired, are from the pen of Sullivan, and to them Mr German has lidded several beautiful songs of sentiment, the prettiest of which, perhaps, are "Goodbye, my native town," charmingly given by Mr Lytton, and "I cannot play at love;" also a rollicking semi-"topical" song for Mr I'iissniorc, and a mock-serious number for Miss Itosina Brandram—all refined and sweet, as Mr German's suites have led us to expect. In his orchestration, and, Indeed, writing for the voice as well, Mr German nan been moro suggestively than Insistently Irish, exrrpt, of course, In the jigs and the essentially "i'addy" numbers; he has not. attempted to be humorous with Individual Instruments—but there Is liveliness when appropriate, and breadth and vivacity throughout. THE LIBRETTO. Captain Hood has welded with most admirable effect the tenderness, the humour, the plalntiveness, and the espleglerie we look for in an Irish opera. Sometimes hl3 humour is bold and free, and so funny thai he who runs may laugh; now and again his wit is almost too fine to travel over the footlights. Above all, he is not "topsy-turvy" —there Is real sentiment,and now and again real pathos in his story, in his dainty and \ agile verses, which are written with a skill I and invention worthy of Gilbert himself.

Of plot there Is not too much, but sufficient; there is very little that is anachronistic—except at the end, where, a hundred years ago, the Viceroy—the excellent Vice-

BEST SAVOY Oi'EKA SINCE '' THE GONDOLIERS."

"Apart froris being daughter of a Viceroy, Kotnember you're of ten times royal birtli; For, as in generally "now the case Among the English aristocracy, Some of the richest, if not bluest, blood Of all America Hows In your veins; Your ancestors (upon the other side) Comprise two Railway Kings, a Copper Queen, And half-a-dozen Pork-Pie Potentates."

His story, set in two beautiful outdoor Irish scenes—very lovely are the Caves of Oarric-Clecna—tells us of the love of the young Irish patriot who is an English gentleman and who is indignant that his accent is quite British, having been acquired at Eton and Oxford, for the daughter of the Lord-Lieutenant. "Had not the grasping Government of England purchased my father's dilapidated estate ,to serve, aftei extensive repairs, as a summer residence for their Viceroy, my parents would not have been lured to the luxurious lap of London, where I, their child, was taught by alien nurses to lisp a tyrant tongue!"

And Captain Hood has Kteered clear still fortber from the pitfalls ot fhe Irish brogue, for the Lord-Lieutenant has persuaded the peasantry by the offer of money prizes at elocution classes "to speak Irish with an English accent."

Side by side with this la the sfory of the fascinating Irish "colleen," Molly, and the hereditary "blind*" tiddler who is not blind at all, and who, anxious to pay Molly the necessary compliments on her beauty, yet fearful of telling her he has been a deceiver from the first, goes to the fairy haunt to got miraculously "cured." And Intermingled with the action, too, are the comical adventures of Professor Gunn, conjuror, reciter, Illusionist, "character Impersonator," etc., a part giving comical Mr Passmore splendid opportunity, of which he availH himself fully.

One Is glad to chronicle that there was no cat-calling on Saturday evening to mar

Roy who speaks in blank verse to enhance tne enthusiasm of the evening.—"Daily the Vice-regal dignity—says to his daughter, Mall."