Abroad

In London, a drab, a troll, a dutz, broad, hoiden, Jezebel, hussy, or Don Goren flot--recently all came down to the same thing. That thing was Carmen as played by one Gladys Parr, British soprano. Departing from the manner of other Carmens--the frozen passion of Celestine Galli-Marie, the deathless bravado of Emma Calve, the angry pathos of Geraldine Farrar--she made the Spanish cigaret-girl a swaggering, leering, vulgar, drab, troll, etc. London--a city which through most of the year cannot support even one permanent opera--has been recently crowding two: the Royal Opera at Covent Garden, the Royal Carl Rosa Company (that of Miss Parr) which is presenting opera in English.

At Milan. "A great tradition blasted . . . an affront to the nation at large . . . damnable . . ." So said the ultra-nationalist press of Italy, speaking of a famed musician's tribute to a great masterpiece. Toscanini--director of La Scala--he was the damnable affronting blaster. He ended his opera season with Debussy's Pelleas et Melisande, sung in French. Never before had an opera in any foreign tongue been sung in Italy. Therefore, the black-shirted press inanely fulminated. But those who had listened, bewitched, to the golden, climbing clangors of the opera had other things to say of Toscanini's musicianship, his daring.