‘MAID OF THE MOUNTAINS’

New Zealand Times, Volume XLIX, Issue 11252, 3 July 1922, Page 9

‘MAID OF THE MOUNTAINS’

GRAND OPERA HOUSE MAGNIFICENT MUSICAL COMEDY. One of the most captivating and brilliant of musical comedies that have visited this city in a number of years opened its season on Saturday evening, when the curtain went up on the first act of the “Maid of the Mountains.” One of the finest, spectacular masterpieces of Mr Oscar Asche, it is very much to be doubted whether any opera in the future can ever show to the people of this city any later word in the triumph of organisation. It has achieved that height of that genius which has been so well defined by a famous philosopher as “the infinite capacity for tiaking pains.” The scentj of the first act, placed, assumedly, in Spain, or in some one °f the countries of Southern Europe, whose chief geographical features are mountainli of every variety of the picturesque,; the rugged pass amid almost inaccessible surroundings; the pale moonlight, seen through faet-scud-ding clouds that flit across the heavens all through the act; the quaintly-clad mountaineers, the oamp-fire, the vigilant sentinel, the sweet personality of tlie mountain maid herself, and her magnificent voice—all combined to sweep Saturday night> audience off its feet, and to produce an effect, the memory of which shall live for a very long time in the records of local entertainment.

A contrast of the most efEf>otive type was provided in the scenic dressing of the second act. What mere different from a rugged mountain-* dope than the interior of a prince’s ’palace, beautifully illuminated, with its equipment and furnishings of th. - richest, and its occupants arrayed in robes of the loveliest and the costli ast ? Here, again, the utmost geniur* was shown in obtaining the most faithful reproductions of a Spanish court, or, at least, of a court whose la-visli display was of the degree . superlativ e. The cost of the scene-pieces must run into high figures indeed, so grer it was the scope given eo wonderfully- artistic the results obtain txi. Whe a the curtain rang up on V l77 d an d final scene, however, one could hear a genuine gasp of astonishn!er“t U P from all parts of that crowded audience. An island. Against the bacJ ;ground of a painted ocean, of course, but, unmistakably an island, t* fishing community at that. Real . oa ,bs',, real masts, real sand, soattered in Vho most realistic fashion all over f Ae foreshore, left in spiral lines where f"he receding waves had marked it, , Sicked up into puffs where the dancing, errant feet of the fisherfolk and the visitors trod it and displaced it. As pretty, as real, almost, as any island in Australasia of its tiny size, and so replete with island details that one forgot Wellington streets, and smelled only the fish, the dried nets, the other subtle whiffs peculiar to just such localities. So much for the scenery.

THE PLOT. As to the story itself, one of its main charms consists in the fact that there really is a plot—not the usual milk-and-water, anaemic feeblenesp of the average comic opera plot, but a virile, forceful narrative of love, ot adventure, of sordid theft, of brilliant daring. Captain of a band of brigands in the mountain fastnesses, where he is able to rob and pillage, and to set at defiance the powers that be of the province where his activities are centred, the chief, Baldassare, foresees the eventual destruction of his gang in the arrival of the new Governor, a young, stern, and vengeful officer, and a contrast to the senile specimen of official incapacity which, for so many years, he has contrived to defeat. His first step is to get rid of the girl. Teresa, “the maid of the mountains,” who for so long has been the sister and guardian-angel of the band. To insure her safety, he orders her to leave the camp under the escort of a single mountaineer. She is very much in love with Baldasarre, who ignores her more tender sentiments in favour of a high-born lady, met and robbed by him some few nights before, his impressionsof her charm remaining along with his regrets that he should have taken from her the silver locket, which he retains as a memento of the unforgettable occasion. During her attempted escape, Teresa is captured by the Governor’s troops, her guide escaping to tell the tale to Baldasarre. Rouse}! to ire and frenzy hy this news of the capture of the gang’s mascot, Baldasarre determines on a desperate venture. Accom.panied by four of his companions, he ambushes the new Governor’s escort, imprisons them all in a mountain stronghold, and, dressed in the habiliments of power, he appears at the palace as the dignitary they are ail expecting. Received without suspicion, Baldasarre and his companions have no difficulty in getting into touch with Teresa, whose rescue is then arranged. At this point of the story, a new difficulty creeps in. Baldasarre has recognised in the old Governor’s daughter the woman with whose beauty and presence he has become infatuated. Believing this gallant, handsome young man to be tbe real new Governor, Angela reciprocates his feeling for herself. They are discovered by Teresa in each other’s arms. Baldasarre, refusing point-blank to come away with her from this place of peril, Teresa falls a victim to the usual fury of the woman scorned, and, in a fit of temper, betrays Baldasarre to the old Governor. When her beloved is marched off in chains, along with the other companions of her happier days, Teresa, woman-like, gives way to ill-timed grief and regrets. Eventually, Baldasarre and hia mates are discovered as prisoners on the little island, and Teresa at once interests herself in securing their escape. Needless to state, the story ends happily, as all lovestories have been made to end hy all well-conducted authors. Baldasarre learns, in the sequel, that his old playmate is far more worthy of his affection than is the high-born girl who flouts him, once his true identity has been discovered by her. THE ARTISTES. Such is the main plot of the story, but there are little side streams of plot, which add not a little to the prettiness of the whole, at the same time supplying the necessary modicum of comedy to relieve the sentimental and the tragical. Lots of laughs are provided by Tonio (Phil Smith) and Vittoria (Mione Stewart), Tonio’s widow, who rejoins her husband happily, his death by drowning proving, after five years of widowhood, to have been a fabrication. Crumpet, the Governor’s aide, ie a part whose subtle

clevernesses are well cared for by Lee* lie Holland. Arthur Stigant’s portrayal of General Malona, the Governor of Santo, is very realistic and convincing.

In their minor parts, much praise is due to Fred. Goape as Carlo, S. Edmund as Andrea, John Forde as Pietro, and J O’Toole as Zacchi, all of them members of the robber band. Edmund Sherras makes a good Lieutenant Rugini, and Haroiu Reeves an equally good Mayor of Santo; while Bert Nicholson, as the secretary, Harry Ratcliffe as the gaoler, and George Conyngham as the officer, all fill their roles with praiseworthy thoroughness. Gianetta and Marietta, friends of Angela, are the roles played prettily by Flossie Lusk and Hazel Stewart respectively, Vida Edwards making good as Beppiria, and Jessie Sherwood and Hazel Meldrum as the gipsy dancers. Those are the minor parts to whioh attention is called be fore dealing with the heavier and more important characters that make the piece the very acme of first-class musi cal comedy.

In his portrayal of the swaggering, buccaneering bragadoceio, Baldasarrc, Anew McM&ster is entitled to all that can be said in the way of praise. Hi« bold, uncouth violence of the first act contrasts in the very best style with the subsequent polish he is forced to assume as the galhmt officer and gen Ueman. His smooth gentility wins the heart of the palace-born lady just oh hi© previous naturalness won the heart of the simple "maid of the mourt tains.*’ No matter bow much he rai» ed one’s dislike for him in his opening appearance, his eventual, true manliness and sentiment reconquered all affections, and placed him in the end on the pinnacle as the evening's hero. Phil Smith. Robert Chisholm (Beppo), Arthur Stigant, and Harry Ratcliffe, all of them, have fine ideas of interpretation and character-acting, while their voice© and that of Miss Mione Stewart gave very great pleasure by their quality and sympathetic nature. Nellie Payne (Angela) had a difficult and dainty part to act, and acted it superbly. Left to the very laet is Teresa, the "Maid of the Mountains’*; left till tbo last purposely, because, before one could discus© her at all, one had to clear the ground of all other issue©, so that she might stand out the more boldly in relief as the personification of real musical comedy genius. Magnetic, virile, full of force and personality, what can one say of Mis© Gladys Moncrieff that shall do her a tithe of the justice ©he deserves? Beautiful, dainty, sweet; these are mere hackneyea terms to apply to this little lady of song, whose voice ©oars to notes of the highest beauty, and has in it always a ring of the most glorious sympathy that reaches out for the heart-strings of the audience. Not enough is it to say she acts with 6\tperb abandon. She lives the part of the mountain maid, and in her one sees the primitive, the natural, the expression-note of tho real, free child of the hills, unborn to tho restraint of conventionality. One know© not whether to admire more her wonderful voice or her marvellous histrionic gifts. Both together, they are a revelation. When one has seen this musical comedy, and has taken in and comprehended all that its perfect production has entailed, one begins then to understand why, in London, the "Maid of the Mountains” ran for no less than 1824 consecutive nights: why, also, in Australia, it filled the theatres of the principal cities every night for nearly a year. Staged with great efficiency and brilliance; played superbly by a picked personnel of nil that is best in the stage-world of to-day; set to musio of the most haunting and seductive sweetness, full of lilts and air© and

choruses that live in the brain for weeks afterwards; costumed with rare taste and at an immense expense, the designs being of the latest and the artistic, with finest of colour schemes and blends; made more perfect with all that science can give in the way of lighting effects and the touches of real nature —the "Maid of the Mountains” comes as a visitation of which the most should be made, while it is here to be made much of. Only too seldom comes a musical comedy of the calibre of this one, to see which is to achieve what is worth remembering during the rest of life. It would not be fair to complete the review without a word of praise foi the excellent orchestra accompanying the opera. Their performance, by this high-cJass instrumental aggregation, lends not a little to the pleasure of hearing the beautiful airs and melodies which have made the piece famous throughout the world to-day. As the season for this musical comedy must, of necessity, be a short one, those who intend to enjoy it should take no risks, but should book their seats without a day’s delay. The theatre is bound to be packed nightly.