Pique-Dame

Alexander Pushkin once wrote a story which concerned an old countess and her granddaughter, three cards and the young girl's lover. The old countess was called Pique-Dame (Queen of Spades) because years before as Belle of St. Petersburg she had attended masquerades in such a costume and because--this was only whispered about the court--she knew three cards by which a gambler could infallibly make his fortune. The soldier, Heran, loved Lisa, the granddaughter, but he had no money. The countess's secret preyed upon him and he hid himself one night in her room, sneaked out when she was alone, threatened her, until, from shock, the old lady died.

But her spirit stayed on. Lying shrouded in her bier, she blinked an eye owlishly when he bent to kiss her hand. Later at his barracks she came to him, hissed the secret of the cards and disappeared. Lisa disappeared too, to the bottom of the Neva because he would not heed her warnings against the gaming-table. There he twice won fabulous sums, but the third card was wrong. It was the Queen of Spades instead of the Ace of Hearts and on it grinned the ghoulish face of the old countess, urging him to his suicide.

Russians like sad stories, like the music of Peter Ilyitch Tchaikovsky. Hence in Russia, Pique-Dame is popular. Hence in Manhattan, last week, many a Russian went to the season's first performance by the Fine Arts Opera Company.* There Russian singers, singing in Russian, under the skilled baton of the Russian Jacques Samossoud found high favor. It mattered little to the Russian listeners that the opera is episodic and disjointed, lacking in theatrical unity; that Lisa's soprano (Eugenia Erminia Erganova) had a metallic edge and that Tenor Herman (Dimitri Criona) had to wheeze through a cold.

The sombre, curving melodies were there, cleverly orchestrated. The performance as a whole was creditable and contralto Anna Meitschik was the Countess. She, a native of St. Petersburg, made her reputation in Europe with this role, sang it in Manhattan 19 years ago at the U. S. premiere given at the Metropolitan Opera. Then her voice was so big and deep that she could even sing baritone airs, had done so once in Russia, as pinch-hitter for the hero in Rubinstein's Demon. Last week her countess was again a fearsome, palsied old hag in shawls; the voice, though thinner, still sure; and her presence the most compelling on the stage.

*An indefinite program will probably include Tchaikovsky's Eugen Onegin, Rubinstein's Demon and Rimsky-Korsakov's Bride of the Tsar. The Manhattan engagement ends Dec. 28 whereupon a tour will be taken through New Jersey, Pennsylvania, New England and into Canada.