The Art of the Reviewer - Part 4: Noskowski, the citizen of the world

Ladislas de Noskowski (1892-1969) wrote reviews for the weekly Sydney Mail, but also contributed articles to the Sydney Morning Herald. Noskowski was born in Poland, educated in Poland and Switzerland, and first came to Sydney in 1911. After more travel, including a stint in Hollywood and a job as secretary to Paderewski, he settled in Sydney permanently, teaching and eventually working full-time as a journalist.

Writing for a weekly, Noskowski had more room to write in depth. Not only were his articles meant to be a different format, he also had the luxury of later deadlines than the journalists who after the performance had to go back to the office to dash off a quick review before the morning edition was put to bed. Where the Age, Argus and Herald reviewers recorded a great deal of facts, Noskowski was able to indulge in analysis, and approach the subject in a number of different ways.

Noskowski appears to have been an enthusiastic opera-goer since his teenage years; he mentions having seen “an interesting performance of Andrea Chenier in Warsaw in 1905” (Sydney Mail 13/8/24, 18), and often makes comparisons with Melba’s first touring company in 1911, among others.

His review of the first week of Sydney performances (Sydney Mail 2/7/24, 8-9) demonstrates his extensive knowledge of the field. This production of Tosca, he says, is superior to the Rigo (1919) and Quinlan (1912-13) productions, and “compares favourably with the great cast of 1911 (Mme. Wayda, McCormack, and Scandiani), but the staging is more lavish and imparts the correct atmosphere of the period.” He offers well-considered thoughts about staging. “It is generally not understood by the audience that Scarpia had no intention of arresting the painter, nor had Tosca any knowledge of his arrest, until she enters the room.” And, “the artist obviously shares the justifiable opinion of many prima donnas that Tosca would not have had time to change her dress before proceeding to her lover’s execution.” He suggests adopting the Act II finale staging of the Metropolitan Opera’s production, which he probably saw during 1915-17 (with possibly Geraldine Farrar, Claudia Muzio or Emmy Destinn).

When speaking of vocalism he describes impact rather than technique. Apollo Granforte’s enunciation is “most remarkably clear, and the great volume of his resonant voice carries well above the orchestra.” But he when he does mention technique, he does not try to impress with terminology. As Lucia, Toti dal Monte’s vocal technique is “flawless… We get an impression, not of vocal gymnastics, but of flowing notes, which seem to have been composed to suit her.”

Noskowski is well-informed concerning opera in other parts of the world. He notes that “out of the sixteen operas which he [Verdi] composed prior to Rigoletto only Ernani has been retained in the repertoire of most opera houses. A few others, such as Nabucco and Lombardi are very seldom performed, and then only in Italy.” He refers to all the arias by their Italian titles, which the others do only in the case of well-known numbers.

And he is not impressed by Phyllis Archibald’s arms: “This artist left a great deal to the imagination, artistically and histrionically.” She has uneven breath control and poor French enunciation, and her acting is conventional and without passion. “We have heard a much more satisfactory singing of Softly Awakes My Heart by our local artists.”

He also enjoys telling amusing incidents, such as this account of Butterfly’s suicide:

Little “Trouble” seemed very perturbed at her stage mother’s
evolutions with the faithful knife, and, suddenly, making up her mind that it
was too dangerous to risk her life any longer, she ran off the stage calling
out, “I want my mummy.” Signora Concato, however admirably grasped the
situation, and stretched out her hands towards the door as if giving her a last
farewell. (Sydney Mail 16/7/24 10)

Unlike some of his colleagues, he is not an elitist: “…there is no reason why grand opera should not be popular with all classes of people who look for entertainment, for it contains the elements and phases of stage art: music, drama, tragedy, comedy, and production” (Sydney Mail 18/6/24 8-9). He appears to be a fan of popular theatre; he found many of the scenes of Aida “eclipsing in splendour some of Oscar Asche’s most ambitious productions” (Sydney Mail 30/7/24, 17). And he slyly notes the renewed demand for opera hats and full dress suits in Melbourne since the beginning of the season (Sydney Mail 18/6/24 8-9).

While other reviewers regard the audience etiquette as appropriate, Noskowski considers it “a peculiar phenomenon”, defying the logic of the works. “The audience seems to carry out a self-imposed regulation that no applause should interrupt the music. This is all very well when Tosca or some other modern opera is given, the continuity of which would be impaired if interrupted by hand-clapping. But in old operas the music lends itself to applause; in fact, each number presents an entity, so that even in the most correctly-behaved opera houses in Europe the audiences show their appreciation of the singer’s art.” (Sydney Mail 16/7/24, 10)

The Sydney Mail also published extended interviews by Noskowski with the principal singers of the company (with the exception of Melba). With these interviews, the regional readership of the Sydney Mail learned more about the opera season than the readers of the metropolitan press. Noskowski let his subjects speak for themselves; most of the articles are conversations or monologues, in which they described their technique and approach to singing, and their opinions of modern music (most of whom seemed to like it when it was not too extreme )

He let them describe their training and careers, and elicited many little word-pictures of famous identities. Several tell of encounters with Puccini; Dino Borgioli tells Noskowski, “He is at present composing a new opera, Turandot, of which he has played some excerpts, but I have not heard them” (Sydney Mail 30/7/24, 16-17), and Apollo Granforte describes how Puccini came to his dressing room after the second act of Tosca and said, ‘Good evening, Mr. Scarpia. I enjoyed tonight immensely, and of all the Scarpias I have heard I like yours best!” (Sydney Mail 27/8/24 10). The baritone Prince Alexis Obolensky, a white Russian who escaped from Russia after the Revolution, threw in this tasty little morsel: “Eventually the plan to assassinate him [Rasputin] was carried out by a friend of mine, Prince Yossoupoff” (Sydney Mail 6/8/24 16, 46).

The singers were comfortable with Noskowski. He spoke to them in their own tongues – French and Polish are explicitly mentioned, but he probably had Italian and Russian as well. He met them in their hotel rooms or in their dressing rooms. Toti dal Monte showed him her autograph album, signed by the composer Zandonai (Sydney Mail 9/7/24, 9). Nino Piccaluga and Augusta Concato bantered like the married couple they were, and told him how much they enjoyed driving around Sydney in their time off (Sydney Mail 13/8/24, 13). Lina Scavizzi revealed that she enjoyed the musical comedies Good Morning Dearie in Sydney (playing at the Theatre Royal) and Kissing Time in Melbourne (Sydney Mail 23/7/24). The singers seem to have spoken to Noskowski with an ease that doesn’t seem to have been accorded to other writers, probably because they perceived him to be of their world as well as an Australian.

This was probably his greatest strength. Of all the reviewers who tried to place Australian opera in an international context, Noskowski had the least self-consciousness about his position. Noskowski was a citizen of the world, and could accept the Australian experience of opera as part of that world, without compromise or special pleading.