The Mapleson Memoirs, 1848-1888, vol II — Text and Context

A Company in Full Voice

Mapleson’s chapter headings hint at a whirlwind of activity: “Patti and her Shoes,” “Patti Seized for Debt,” “Flight of Gerster,” “Conflict at Chicago.” The excerpts show him assembling a roster that would “have done honour to any theatre in Europe,” yet he is constantly undermined. The cast list for Carman on November 2 includes Ravelli as Don José, Del Puente as Escamillo, and Minnie Hauk as Carmen, with a ballet divertissement by Mdme. Malvina Cavalazzi. For Trovatore, Mdlle. Litvinoff made a successful debut, and Giannini was “encored and recalled four times.” These details give a concrete sense of the performers and the audience’s enthusiasm, even as Mapleson struggles with the business side.

Rivalry and Sabotage

Mapleson describes a “strong leaning” toward German Opera at the Metropolitan and a craze for “American Opera” that rented his own Academy of Music. He states that “a considerable number of intrigues were forthwith commenced for the purpose, if possible, of wiping me entirely out.” The directors demanded a heavy rental and limited his use of the theatre. When he tried to rehearse, they “began carpentering and hammering.” This adversarial relationship frames his narrative: he is an impresario fighting not only artistic battles but also the machinations of landlords and rivals. The tone is matter-of-fact, but the accumulation of such incidents suggests a memoir of survival.

Touring and Travails

Later chapter titles promise episodes far beyond New York: “Arrival at Cheyenne,” “Patti Dines the Prophet,” “Luncheon on H.M.S. Triumph,” “Concert at Mormon Tabernacle,” “Panic at New Orleans,” “Thermometer Falls 105 Degrees.” These indicate a transcontinental scope, with opera companies moving by rail and facing extreme conditions. Mapleson’s prose is brisk and anecdotal; he does not linger on description but moves from crisis to crisis. The reader gets a sense of the logistical chaos—sheriffs, scalpers, floods, and a “Black Concert”—that defined touring opera in the Gilded Age. The excerpts do not reveal how these episodes resolve, but they establish a rhythm of perpetual motion.

The Patti Factor

Adelina Patti looms over the memoir. She appears in chapter titles (“Patti and her Shoes,” “Patti Seized for Debt,” “Patti Volunteers”) and her absence from the opening season is blamed for poor subscriptions. Mapleson notes that a list of singers “would have done honour to any theatre in Europe” but that “the magic name of Patti not being included had at once the effect of damaging seriously the subscription.” This reveals the commercial reality: star power trumped artistic merit. The excerpts do not show Patti in action, but her gravitational pull is evident. Mapleson’s relationship with her—and with other divas like Gerster—is clearly a central thread of the volume.

Readers approaching volume II should expect a fast-moving, episodic narrative rather than a systematic history. Mapleson assumes familiarity with opera repertory and personalities; he rarely explains who a singer is or why a contract dispute matters. The value lies in the accumulation of specific, often absurd incidents—a tenor’s suite, a Chinese swing, dynamite bombs—that convey the precariousness of the impresario’s life. Treat each chapter as a self-contained anecdote, and watch for the recurring tension between artistic ambition and commercial pressure.

Night after night Mapleson wrestled with sopranos and thermometers, the whole frantic business of keeping opera alive. Sometimes I think of that restless energy and recall the older, stranger Amadis, a quieter knight whose stage battles were entirely his own. Both books share that peculiar loneliness of the impresario’s craft, where every glorious note carries a thousand small, exhausting decisions. It is a kinship I have come to treasure. Amadis of Gaul, an opera As it is perform'd at the King's Theatre in the Hay-market — Background and Themes