A TRIUMPH FOR IRISH GENIUS.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVII, Issue 37, 3 January 1890, Page 3

A TRIUMPH FOR IRISH GENIUS.

Undbb the caption " Symphonic Poem by a Woman," The Transatlantic gives this charming sketch of Mme. Augusta Holmes' latest achievement : —

Ihe city of Paris, which, although republican, is decidedly a royal hostess, began on September 11, the celebration of the festival of the Republic in the central nave of the Palais de l'lndustrie, transformed into an immense theatre for the purpose. The programme consisted of three performances, on the 11th, 14th, and 16ih, of the symphonic poem, " Ode Triomphale," the words and music of which were written for the occasion by Augusta Holmes, a French composer of Irish descent. The presentation was on so magnificent a soile that each performance cost sixty thousand dollars. Tbe entrance was free, and the combined audience reached the number of sixty -six thousand, The first performance was for President Carnot, the authorities, and the Press ; the second was for the children, and tbe third for the people. Never was so large a theatre constructed in so short a time. The stage is 146 feet wide and 143 feet deep. A correspondent of L'lndependance Beige gives the following description of tbe opening performance. M. Colonne lifts his baton ; aa impressive silence prevails ; twenty thousand heads all bend slightly forward, seeming by this uniform movement to obey some invisible orchestra leader. Behind the curtain trumpet calls are heard ; first successively, then simultaneously, they sound in the distance, and then draw nearer and nearer, until at last they are drowned in a triumphal march which the orchestra strikes up. Then the curtain draws aside, to the right and the left, as at Bayreuth instead of rising perpendicularly,

Cries of admiration go np on every hand ; really, it is not a scene, painted and manufactured, but rather a fragment cut out of nature snd transferred to the stage. In the distance mountains gilded by the sun ; to the right and left two broad roads descending to the foreground ; in the centre the altar of the co untry, half veiled by an immense French flag, while on four tripods arranged around the altar incense burns. The round frame enclosing the scene seems really like the enormous mouth of a telescope through which one see 3 some fairy-like, mysterious promised land. While the orchestra is finishing the triumphal march, whose rhythm i« broad and brilliant, the stage remains empty ; but soon joyful tones resound,— the voices of the wine growers preceded by an allegorical figure, Wine, and the harvesters following the harvest represented by sheaves of wheat. I note that the author, who belongs to the modern school, gives her music a pronounced local colour, and closely follows the text of her poem. Moreover, choruses act in groups, mingling their Bongs, answering each other, aßd thus presenting the illusion of all the real and natural impulses of the people. The songs concluded, winegrowers and harvesters ascend the roads on either side and group themselves at the culminating point of the scene. Then come the soldiers and sailors to sing the glories of the country ; tbeir costumes, borrowed from the war department, produce the greatest effect. Here especial mention must be made of the Bailors chorus.

Sur les flots gris de l'Ocean sans bornes Sous les vents ruisselants. . . . The music delightfully portrays all the coquettish movements of the sea ; and one seems to fill his lungs with the ocean air. This is surely one of the finest pages of the Bcore. Then the labourers advance, while the soldiers and sailors ro to join the winegrowers. After these the Arts, preceded by Genius, who defend slowly and take the place of the labourers ; the mixture of allegorical and modern costumes is not one of the least piquant details of this feast of the eyes and ears. Here comes in one of the most original episodes in the work of Augusta Ho tn«s. As soon as the Arts and Sciences are grouped around the altar, Cupid, the ruddy and frolicsome infant, rushes upon the scene : the orchestic marks his entrance by a motive that delightfully imitates the beating of Oupid's wings against the ether Cupid advances, at first hesitating, and then more boldly : he makes a sign, and immediately a multitude of young men rush out and form his train ; on the opposite Bide en adorable apparition, personifying Youth, becomes visible, followed by a group of young girls ; the two groups exchange amorous greetings, while in the middle Youth and Cupid make a pretence of embracing each other expressing by gesture all the impulses of the heart, all ihe refinements of shared caresses ; and finally Cupid kisses Youth upon the brow and they remain in mutual embrace, while the young people exchange flowers and sing tbe joy of lo»e in a glorious hymn. Ihe whole scene 18 one of indescribable sweetness ; fuither.this mixture of pantomime and song constitutes an innovation, all the merit of which belongs to Mme. Holmeß ; characters expressing simultaneously by gestures the eentiment to which the choruses give voice in their songs,— this i 8i 8 a truly original discovery, worthy of a place in the musical history of our epoch. Who knows but that there resides in this simple detail of • powerful and voluminous work the source of profound modifications of the methods of theatrical art ?

The author follows this episode by the introduction of a little chorus of children, who enter with noisy gaiety. After their song the scene darkens, and the choruses, grouped around the altar of the country, murmur sorrowfully. Suddenly a woman, draped in mourumg veils, rises from below. She seems to suffer, and stretches forth Bupphant arms to the French flag. Cupid and Youth step aside to let her pafs, while the chorees, accompanying with their Baddened aongs the funeral march mournfully played by the strings, cry :— Apparais, diesse, apparais. Suddenly the Frsnch flag unfolds, and the Republic, radiant and superb, ariseß on the pedestal of the altar of the country At that moment full light is turned on. The sun rises above the mountain topi, aad the people (all upon their kacei ; the roiled woman let* her

veil of mourning fall, and appears as France smiling and comforted. And then in glorious unison the Republic, France, and the people raise this great shout of the soul : — Qloire a toi, Liberte, soleil de Vunivers I So ends this triumphal ode, a work of great power, unequal, but always human, sincere, wverflowiog with life and reality, and enriched with a stage setting, a luxury of detail and a breadth of conception which class it with the finest manifestations of art in aa epoch rich m marvels and wonders.

To the personality and achievements of the author of this work, who is clearly des.ined to take rank among the great compose™, with whom no woman has heretofore been numbered, the Tr ant- Atlantic will retnrn in a future issue.