THE first real novelty of the local opera season was offered at the Metropolitan last Saturday afternoon, when Massenet’s “Don Quichotte” had its American premiere, under the direction of Cleofonte Campanini, with Vanni Marcoux in the title rôle, which he had sung many times in Europe; Hector Dufranne as Sancho Panza, and Mary Garden as La Belle Dulcinea. The performance was a genuine success. The score is in Massenet’s familiar vein: It offers a continuous flow of melody, light, sometimes almost inconsequential, and not often of dramatic significance, but at all times pleasing, of an elegance that appeals to the aesthetic sense, and in all its phases appropriate to the story, sketched rather briefly by Henri Cain from the voluminous romance of Miguel de Cervantes.

In the beautifully spectacular production that was disclosed at the local Metropolitan on Saturday is shown first a street in a Spanish town, before the house of Dulcinea, then a stretch of country landscape, with the revolving windmills, which Don Quichotte valorously attacks; the lair of the brigands, which the Don seeks in his determination to win Dulcinea’s favor by recovering for her the stolen pearl necklace; the courtyard of Dulcinea’s house, during a fête, and the forest, where, broken of heart, alone with his faithful Sancho, Don Quichotte yields up his still uncomplaining spirit. All of these scenes are beautifully staged, particularly that of the windmills, and the final tableau, showing through the forest trees the dim blue, snow-peaked Sierras in the distance.

In his impersonation of Don Quichotte Mr. Marcoux, who had previously appeared here only as Scarpia in “Tosca,” gave new and convincing evidence of his dramatic ability by offering a characterization quite as effective as, but in all respects in direct contrast to, that of the villainous Chief of Police in the Puccini opera. His Don Quichotte is essentially a comedy portrayal, but presents a keen analysis of character and is imbued with an underlying vein of tenderness and pathos that obviates the comic effect of the poor old knight-errant's unconscious grotesqueness. Marcoux’s make-up might be called a cross between Mephistopheles and Svengali. Of a slender figure, which he accentuates, he looks tall, gaunt and ungainly; peaked of countenance, with parrot-like nose, and sunken of cheek; clad in a semblance of armor and carrying an exaggerated spear nearly twice as long as himself, the Don is not a person to win admiration, and yet, so skillfully does Marcoux suggest the man’s innate gentleness and nobility of soul, that one bestows admiration, and forgets to ridicule, Even the Don’s hopeless adoration of the fair Dulcinea, who laughs him to scorn, inspires a pitying smile, and in the end, realizing the futility of his hope, having been thrust aside even after he had fulfilled the lady’s wish and recovered the stolen jewels, thinking that her hand was to be his reward, his death in the lonely forest, accomplished with realism and accompanied by music written in Massenet’s most sympathetic style, is tearfully impressive.

Marcoux’s costume and make-up have the authority of the illustrations of Cervantes’s book in its early editions, and the scenes of the opera also in several instances suggest a reproduction of the sketches in the book. While one cannot give to the French baritone the same degree of praise for his singing that is freely granted his impersonation, as a character delineation, it may be said that vocally he ably fills the requirements of the rôle, singing at all times with authority, and in places with appealing sympathy of tone. The serenade of the Don beneath Dulcinea’s window, in the first act; the appeal to the brigands, in the second, and the sympathetically subdued death scene in the last act, were all done with telling effect.

As Dulcinea, Miss Garden appears only in the first and third acts, but the part, though comparatively small, affords her an opportunity to add another striking characterization to her distinguished gallery of operatic portraitures. Gayly attired in Spanish costume, after the manner of Carmen in her festive days, with dark hair piled high and adorned with a large red rose, and flirtatiously wielding the in1evitable fan, Miss Garden is a picture fair to look upon. In every movement she is graceful and winning, with the charm of beautifu1 coquetry, while in the softer mood finally inspired by Don Quichotte’s devotion, there is a well-defined suggestion of the ' desire for something better that lies beneath the manner of thoughtless frivolity. The music, peculiarly adapted to Miss Garden’s voice, as Massenet’s music generally seems to be, enables her to give the part something of real value vocally. She sings with fluency the rather florid aria from the balcony, in the first act, and throughout gives tonal expressiveness to all she does, as usual making her voice show varying emotion.

The Sancho Panza of Hector Dufranne is an admirable portrayal, in comedy vein, yet having so distinctly the artistic touch that it never descends to the level of mere buffoonery. Short, fat, broad of countenance, suggesting Falstaff done by an Irish comedian with a fringe of red whiskers, Dufranne nevertheless makes the part more than comic. Voluminous of voice, his tones remarkably resonant and rich, he sings the music impressively. The remaining parts are small and of comparatively little importance, though a word of especial praise is due to Edmund Warnery, as Juan; Vittoria Venturini, as Rodriguez, and, Constantin Nicolay, as the Chief of the Bandits. The chorus work, which is rather brief, was commendable, and the whole performance went admirably, particularly when the difficulty under which it was prepared is remembered, the stage of the Metropolitan having been available for only two or three rehearsals.

The opera begins after only a few bold strains from the orchestra, there being no regular overture, and the expected “gem” of the score was discovered in the short, subdued and alluringly melodious prelude to the fifth act, in Massenet’s most sympathetic vein, and which, like the Meditation in “Thais,” is undoubtedly destined to frequent repetition. It brought prolonged applause on Saturday and was played the second time, —ARTHUR L. TUBBS.

BALTIMORE, MD., Nov. IS.—That American music schools and American music teachers afford opportunities second to those offered in no other country in the world and that the musical schools in this country provide a safer and cleaner life for our young girls and young men who are studying music was the opinion set forth convincingly this afternoon by John C. Freund, editor of MUSICAL AMERICA, before an audience of nearly a thousand persons at the Peabody Institute of Music. Mr. Freund’s address, made by invitation of Harold Randolph, director of the institution, was listened to by the most prominent factors in Baltimore musical life and the frequent outbursts of applause indicated that he had struck a popular chord.

“The conditions surrounding music study abroad, especially as they affect American girls, are of a nature that makes the white slave stories sound like pretty fairy tales,” declared Mr. Freund. “To illustrate this, let me quote exactly the words of a former director of the Metropolitan Opera House, who after a search for American singers in Europe said: ‘They came to me hollow-eyed, these American girls who had .been studying in Europe; they had been stripped of their money, stripped of their health, their jewels; stripped of their virtue, even of their belief in a God.’”

Here, continued Mr. Freund, was a condition which American parents should recognize. The popular belief that it was necessary for students to go abroad to imbibe real musical atmosphere, he said, was based on ignorance, since France, Italy and Germany cannot to-day afford musical opportunities equal to those of American cities. “For many years,” Mr. Freund continued, “the finest musical talent of Italy, Germany, France, England and Spain has come to this country to locate and enter American citizenship. Are we to understand that the transfer of these musicians to our shores means that they have lost their love of music, their ideals and their taste? Then, why must our parents continue to send their children to Europe subjecting them to the dangers which we know exist there?” Mr. Freund reviewed the statistics he had previously given out with regard to the tremendous amount spent annually for music in this country and touched on the points he had made in his addresses a month ago in Atlanta, Nashville and other cities. In the evening he was entertained at the Florestan Club, an organization composed of the leading musicians of Baltimore, and made another address, in which he repeated his plea for the recognition and support of American teachers and musicians before an audience that listened attentively and applauded enthusiastically.