Open Air

In a baseball park on the outskirts of Manhattan, 20,000 people assembled while Kleig lights concentrated their glare upon an extemporary stage erected over second base. Great numbers ot staring children sat in the cheaper seats. They murmured among themselves. For their entertainment, Verdi's Aida was presented, with Marie Rappold as Aida, Tenor Bernardo de Muro (TIME, June 1) as Radames, in the first of a series of open air concerts to be given by the Manhattan Opera Company. Priests in flowing diapers, soldiers in black and gold, caparisoned camels, slow-stepping horses, passed with solemn unreality across the shallow scaffolding. Critics and adults cheered; the sight intrigued them; the music pleased their ears; but still the children murmured. "Where," they asked, "are the creatures which the producers assured us would take an important part in this spectacle of vocal pantalooning which, owing to their absence, seems dull to the point of fatuity? We see horses, it is true, even camels. But where are the elephants?" Alas! because of the inability of the stage to support them, there were no elephants. The disgruntled listeners were forced to remain content with the singing of the famed stars, the playing of an orchestra of 100 pieces recruited from the Manhattan and the Metropolitan Opera companies.