OFFENBACH'S REMARKABLE AMERICAN EXPERIENCES

BY ROBERT GRAU

From nearly every great European city comes the news of a sensational furore created by the revival (after nearly three decades) of the Offenbach craze due to the acclaim with which La Belle Helene has been received. An amazing illustration of the advancement in musical taste in our own country is the fact that now popular Contes d'Hoffmann was a complete fiasco when presented in New York City at the Fifth Avenue Theatre in the fall of 1882.

At that time Offenbach was famed for his Barbe Bleu, Grande Duchesse and his La Jolie Parfuineuse. Even La Belle Helene, when produced in America, was not exceptionally successful. But taken as a whole, no musical furore ever excelled the wonderful Offenbach craze in this country. His La Grande Duchesse, when produced by my uncle, Jacob Gran, ran two hundred and fifty nights, playing to packed houses.

In 1876 my brother, Maurice Grau, succeeded in enticing the famous composer himself to these shores. His idea was that the public would pay fabulous prices to gaze on the back of the man who had set people literally crazy with his entrancing melodies. Offenbach was accordingly engaged for thirty nights to conduct an orchestra of sixty musicians in programs of his own compositions at Madison Square Garden, New York. He was to receive a fee of $1,000.00 a night--regarded at that time as an unprecedented amount.

In June, 1876, the father of opera bouffe arrived in New York City amidst an excitement such as has never been equaled to this day. The people seemed to think that Offenbach would begin to dance as soon as he set his foot on our shores, and crowds were at the steamship wharf to greet him. On the night of the arrival he was serenaded at the Fifth Avenue Hotel by the Musicians' Union of New York. A crowd said to number fifty thousand people filled Madison Square and shouted welcome to the composer until he appeared on the balcony of the hotel.

Offenbach weighed just ninety pounds. He was perhaps the least imposing man in appearance one could possibly imagine. He spoke excellent English, thanking the people for his reception. He retired in less than a minute and the crowd went home thoroughly disappointed because the man who wrote Orphee aux Enfers did not dance on the balcony.

At length the opening of the concert was given to an audience of six thousand persons. The garden was crowded, but the audience was not a distinctly musical one. The majority of the people had come to see just how Offenbach would behave when he came to conduct the airs over which they had raved.

At last Offenbach came into the orchestra pit. The orchestra gave him a fanfare. The audience rose at him as if he were a conqueror. The applause lasted two minutes and then silence prevailed.

The absence of the voices of the opera bouffees. the lack of the mise en scene, seemed to cast a gloom over the night. After the first part was over one-third of the audience went home.

When all seemed to be lost, my brother, with that ingenious foresight which characterized his business career, began to plead with Offenbach to meet the public clamor for a sensational conductor.

"What can 1 do? What will you have me do? I want to help you, but you can't get me to make a clown of myself," said Offenbach.

The only thing remaining was to induce Offenbach to conduct some performances of his operas with the hope of retrieving the great loss which the concerts had brought about.

By producing La Jolie Parfumeuse, with Aimee in the cast, my brother succeeded in recovering his losses. Offenbach, of course, was the conductor and the first seven performances brought $20,000. Despite the favorable financial outcome of this venture, Offenbach was disgusted with America, and in his book about us what he did not say would make far pleasanter reading than that which found expression.

Offenbach was a prince of good fellows, and his witticisms are remembered by old New York club men to this day. When Offenbach was conducting at the Madison Square Garden Theo. Thomas was conducting some concerts uptown. A friend asked Thomas why he never put any of Offenbach's compositions upon his programs as a mark of respect to the foreigner. "What," shouted Thomas, angrily, "Me conduct an Offenbach composition--never will I do anything so degrading." Offenbach heard of this, and laughing heartily, replied: "Please tell Mr. Thomas that I will not be so particular. I shall be most happy to conduct any composition of Theodore Thomas when he reaches the dignity of becoming a composer."