In New York

When Grover Cleveland was President of the U. S., an opera by Mascagni called L'Amico Frits was put on at the Metropolitan. Emma Calve, lovely songstress, appeared in the prima donna role. That was the last time the opera was given until last week.

Any Metropolitan revival is important in the musical season, but no revival could be less important than this because no one has ever been enthusiastic about L'Amico Fritz. It is harmlessly sentimental -- a country maid throws violets (violet song) and cherries (cherry song) at an Alsatian landowner, and the landowner joins in a final duet: "lo t'amo, t'amo, o dolce mio tesor."

When it first appeared the New Yorkers of the 90's called it "refined." That was because they were inclined to resent the impassioned glory of Cavalleria Rusticana which Mascagni had recently given them. The impassioned glory has endured; the refinement has been relegated to the musical pantry of canned goods.

Last week, when this can of guaranteed Mascagni was opened, Emma Calve sat in the audience. But Lucrezia Bori, of tender voice, sang the violet song and threw the cherries.

Vladimir de Pachmann gave his second recital. He played the piano and did not talk. He played Chopin and nothing else. His audience was amazed at his vocal silence and delighted with his instrumental melody.

At his first recital de Pachmann caused a musical scandal by chattering to his audience (TlME, Oct. 22).

Chopin is de Pachmann's specialty, and at this second recital Chopin was revealed in utter beauty.