Mdlle. Sylvia as Serpolette in Les Cloches de Corneville upon its reopening, Globe Theatre, London, 4 September 1880

Mdlle. Sylvia (active late 1870s/early 1880s), Swedish soprano, as she appeared as Serpolette in Les Cloches de Corneville upon its reopening, Globe Theatre, Newcastle Street, London on Saturday, 4 September 1880. The part of Serpolette had been first played in London by he American soprano, Kate Munroe.
(cabinet photo: The London Stereoscopic & Photographic Co Ltd, London, 1880)

‘Mdlle. Sylvia, a young vocalist of Swedish extraction, made her first appearance in England on Wednesday last as the heroine of Offenbach’s Madame Favart, which still retains its popularity after nearly 500 continuous repetitions. Mdlle. Sylvia is young, graceful, and prepossessing. Her voice is a soprano of good quality and ample compass, and she sang with taste and expression, although at times so nervous that her intonation became unsatisfactory. She was heartily applauded, and will probably prove a valuable addition to the excellent company at the Strand Theatre.’
(The Observer, London, Sunday, 1 August 1880, p. 7d)

Globe Theatre, London, Saturday, 4 September 1880
‘On Saturday, September 4, the Globe Theatre, which has been newly decorated, will reopen for the regular season with Les Cloches de Corneville, the reproduction of which will derive additional interest from the engagement of Mr. [Frank H. ] Celli, who will personate the Marquis; and Mesdames Sylvia and D’Algua, who will respectively sustain the parts of Serpolette and Germaine. Mdlle. Sylvia is already known to the London public as having successfully impersonated Madame Favart at the Strand Theatre, during the absence of Miss [Florence] St. John. Mdlle. D’Algua will make her first appearance on the London stage, and Messrs. [Harry] Paulton, [Charles] Ashford, and Shiel Barry will reappear as the Bailie, Gobo, and the Miser. Les Coches will only be played for a limited number of nights, pending the production of a new comic opera from the pen of Offenbach.’
(The Observer, London, Sunday, 29 August 1880, p. 3f)

‘After a short recess, during which the auditorium has undergone a complete renovation, the Globe Theatre reopened on Saturday evening with the familiar but by no means unwelcome Cloches de Corneville as the staple entertainment. M. Planquette’s charming opera has not yet outlived its popularity, and no doubt it will attract the music-loving public while Mr. Alexander Henderson is getting ready the promised Offenbach novelty. The present cast is in many respects an excellent one. Mr. Shiel Barry, of course, retains his part of the miser, Gaspard, and plays it with the same intensity as heretofore; while Mr. Harry Paulton and Mr. Charles Ashford continue to impersonate the Bailie and his factotum, Gobo, in a manner which is well known. With these three exceptions the characters have changed hands. Mdlle. D’Algua is now the Germaine, Mdlle. Sylvia the Serpolette, Mr. [Henry] Bracy the Grenicheux, and Mr. F.H. Celli the Marquis. Unfortunately both Mdlle. D’Algua and Mdlle. Sylvia have but an imperfect acquaintance with the English tongue, and their speeches are therefore not readily comprehensible. Perhaps practice, in each case, may make perfect, but at present a little judicious ”coaching” would make an improvement. Mdlle. D’Algua sings her music efficiently, and with some degree of artistic feeling; while Mdlle. Sylvia acts with plenty of vivacity throughout, and proves herself an accomplished vocalist. Mr. Bracy has a pleasant tenor voice, which he used fairly well, and Mr. F.H. Celli brings his ripe experience in opera to bear upon the part of the Marquis – a character usually assigned to a tenor, if our memory serve us right. The work is placed on the stage with all due regard for picturesqueness of effect, there is a capital chorus, and Mr. Edward Solomon has his orchestra thoroughly well in hand. So wholesome and refreshing is M. Planquette’s work that playgoers may perhaps disregard the oppressive head, which renders indoor amusements all but intolerable, and take the opportunity of renewing their acquaintance with the chiming of the Corneville bells. The opera is preceded by a farce.’
(The Standard, London, Monday, 6 September 1880, p. 3d)

Mdlle. Sylvia, Swedish soprano, as she appeared as Serpolette in Les Cloches de Corneville, Globe Theatre, London, 1880.

Mdlle. Sylvia (active late 1870s/early 1880s), Swedish soprano, as she appeared as Serpolette in Les Cloches de Corneville upon its reopening, Globe Theatre, Newcastle Street, London on Saturday, 4 September 1880. The part of Serpolette had been first played in London by he American soprano, Kate Munroe.
(cabinet photo: The London Stereoscopic & Photographic Co Ltd, London, 1880)

‘Mdlle. Sylvia, a young vocalist of Swedish extraction, made her first appearance in England on Wednesday last as the heroine of Offenbach’s Madame Favart, which still retains its popularity after nearly 500 continuous repetitions. Mdlle. Sylvia is young, graceful, and prepossessing. Her voice is a soprano of good quality and ample compass, and she sang with taste and expression, although at times so nervous that her intonation became unsatisfactory. She was heartily applauded, and will probably prove a valuable addition to the excellent company at the Strand Theatre.’
(The Observer, London, Sunday, 1 August 1880, p. 7d)

Globe Theatre, London, Saturday, 4 September 1880
‘On Saturday, September 4, the Globe Theatre, which has been newly decorated, will reopen for the regular season with Les Cloches de Corneville, the reproduction of which will derive additional interest from the engagement of Mr. [Frank H. ] Celli, who will personate the Marquis; and Mesdames Sylvia and D’Algua, who will respectively sustain the parts of Serpolette and Germaine. Mdlle. Sylvia is already known to the London public as having successfully impersonated Madame Favart at the Strand Theatre, during the absence of Miss [Florence] St. John. Mdlle. D’Algua will make her first appearance on the London stage, and Messrs. [Harry] Paulton, [Charles] Ashford, and Shiel Barry will reappear as the Bailie, Gobo, and the Miser. Les Coches will only be played for a limited number of nights, pending the production of a new comic opera from the pen of Offenbach.’
(The Observer, London, Sunday, 29 August 1880, p. 3f)

‘After a short recess, during which the auditorium has undergone a complete renovation, the Globe Theatre reopened on Saturday evening with the familiar but by no means unwelcome Cloches de Corneville as the staple entertainment. M. Planquette’s charming opera has not yet outlived its popularity, and no doubt it will attract the music-loving public while Mr. Alexander Henderson is getting ready the promised Offenbach novelty. The present cast is in many respects an excellent one. Mr. Shiel Barry, of course, retains his part of the miser, Gaspard, and plays it with the same intensity as heretofore; while Mr. Harry Paulton and Mr. Charles Ashford continue to impersonate the Bailie and his factotum, Gobo, in a manner which is well known. With these three exceptions the characters have changed hands. Mdlle. D’Algua is now the Germaine, Mdlle. Sylvia the Serpolette, Mr. [Henry] Bracy the Grenicheux, and Mr. F.H. Celli the Marquis. Unfortunately both Mdlle. D’Algua and Mdlle. Sylvia have but an imperfect acquaintance with the English tongue, and their speeches are therefore not readily comprehensible. Perhaps practice, in each case, may make perfect, but at present a little judicious “coaching” would make an improvement. Mdlle. D’Algua sings her music efficiently, and with some degree of artistic feeling; while Mdlle. Sylvia acts with plenty of vivacity throughout, and proves herself an accomplished vocalist. Mr. Bracy has a pleasant tenor voice, which he used fairly well, and Mr. F.H. Celli brings his ripe experience in opera to bear upon the part of the Marquis – a character usually assigned to a tenor, if our memory serve us right. The work is placed on the stage with all due regard for picturesqueness of effect, there is a capital chorus, and Mr. Edward Solomon has his orchestra thoroughly well in hand. So wholesome and refreshing is M. Planquette’s work that playgoers may perhaps disregard the oppressive head, which renders indoor amusements all but intolerable, and take the opportunity of renewing their acquaintance with the chiming of the Corneville bells. The opera is preceded by a farce.’
(The Standard, London, Monday, 6 September 1880, p. 3d)

Paula Edwardes in Winsome Winnie at the Casino Theatre, New York, 1903

Paula Edwardes (1870?-after 1926), American musical comedy actress as she appeared in the title role of Winsome Winnie, a musical comedy produced at the Casino Theatre, New York, on 1 December 1903.
(photo: unknown, probably New York, 1903; halftone postcard published by Carter & Out, New York, 1903)

‘CHANGES AT THE THEATRES… .
‘Two new plays will be produced to-night and two to-morrow night. First-nighters will have to hustle to keep up with the procession. Paula Edwardes will be presented as a star to-night at the Casino in Winsome Winnie. The other new attraction will be at the Bijou, where Alice Fischer opens in What’s the Matter With Susan?‘ This is Miss Fischer’s second starring season and Miss Edwardes’s first.’
(The Sun, New York, New York, Tuesday, 1 December 1903, p. 6d)

‘WINSOME WINNIE.
‘CASINO THEATRE.
‘The production on a New-York stage of such a musical comedy as Winsome Winnie shown last night at the Casino with Miss Paul Edwardes in the title part, illustrates how far musical comedy standards have been lowered in this country, or, at any rate, how well nigh impossible it is to find American musical comedy makers who can level up to these standards. Winsome Winnie is credited to the author of Erminie, Jakobowski and Paulton, but there remains only six musical numbers for which they are responsible; the rest have been supplied by Gustav Kerker with Frederick Ranken’s lyrics. And Mr. Ranken has made an ”American version” of the book. Was the original version so bad, then, that it has to be doctored out of all semblance of itself? By Erminie, it is hard to believe! Yet, if doctored, it must be, why not have done the job thoroughly? Why not have made a new comedy of it altogether, and announced it as a musical play by Ranken and Kerker, with a few interpolated songs by Jakobowski? Why weave, in short, upon the fabric of an old fashioned opera bouffe, such as Winsome Winnie must have once been, the violent, incoherent designs of an American machine made musical comedy, things of ”gags” and ”local allusions” and Dutch dialect and tripping ”show girls,” and then try to palm off the patchwork as art upon the public?
‘Winsome Winnie in its present form falls between two stools; it is neither a Broadway ”show” nor an opera bouffe, or old-fashioned musical comedy. Remarks about Chicago and the subway fall on the ears of Offenbachish brigands, show girls trip under trees such as Turner painted in his foregrounds, and the skeleton of a plot, poor Paulton’s dim, far off idea, appears and disappears fitfully, like the smile of the Chessie cat [sic].
‘Mr. Kerker, to be sure, has contributed some pleasing numbers, and the management a vast array of pleasing costumes on still more pleasing girls. And two, at least, of the few numbers by Jakobowki that are retained, one in each act, have the rhythmic swing and melodious and merry orchestration which helped to make Erminie popular. Miss Paula Edwardes, also, announced as a star, makes good the assertion, and is easily the most successful – the one successful, perhaps – mirth creator in the cast. She looks very charming, and plays with considerable feeling for the opera bouffe spirit that was evidently meant to animate the piece. As a whole, however, Winsome Winnie is not likely to set the town on fire.’
(New York Daily Tribune, New York, New York, Wednesday, 2 December 1903, p. 9a)

* * * * *

‘FORMER STAR ACT VERY PECULIARLY
‘Paula Edwardes Says She Was Told to Go to Broadway and 23rd Street Corner and Pray.
‘New York, Aug. 17 [1926] – nearly a quarter of a century ago, a new an scintillating star twinkled in the firmament of tuneful musical comedy and opera bouffe.
‘some habitues of the theater and patrons of entertainment served up in musical form will remember The Princess and the Beggar [sic], a melodious classic produced by Charles Dillingham, the ”hit” tues of which are even yet played sometimes, somewhere.
‘Paula Edwardes was the star of that particular musical melange. She twinkled in all the brightness of the old-time production of that sort, with its princes and retinues, beggars and maids. She danced and pranced across the stage, sang lilting love songs to a manly prince and took her many curtain calls with all the fairy-like grace she possessed.
‘Early yesterday when the downpour of rain was at its height, policeman Belton saw a dim figure kneeling at the coner of Broadway and Twenty-third street. It was a woman praying, her face uplifted to the pelting rain.
‘The woman was Paula Edwardes.
‘She said she was fifty-six years of age and had been an actress for thirty years. She had been ordered to go to that corner and pray in a dream, she told police.
‘Paula Edwardes was taken to the Bellevue hospital for observation.’
(The Norwalk Hour, Norwalk, Connecticut, Tuesday, 17 August 1926, p. 3b)

Lottie Montal in London, 1874

Lottie Montal (née Louise Felicie Augustine Jean, 1851-1933), Parisian-born singer, at the time of her appearances at the Alhambra, Leicester Square, London, in 1874.
(cabinet photo: The London Stereoscopic & Photographic Co Ltd, London, 1874. Please note that this photograph has suffered water damage.)

In 1874 Miss Montal was married in London as his third wife to the French-born touring violinist, Horace Remy Poussard (1829-1898). In 1887 Miss Montal was married in New Zealand to Wynne Aubrey MacLean (1857-1890). After his death she lived for a while in London, where she taught singing. She died in London on 13 October 1933.

The Alhambra, Leicester Square, London, week beginning 3 August 1874
‘The Alhambra was crowded to repletion on Monday. The herione in The Pretty Perfumeress, recently played by Miss Kate Santley, is now personated by Miss Lottie Montal, an arch, bright-eyed, clever little lady from Australia, who sings nicely and acts charmingly.’
(Reynold’s Newspaper, London, Sunday, 9 August 1874, p. 5d)

The Alhambra, Leicester Square, London, week beginning 10 August 1874
‘Notwithstanding the repeated statement that everybody is out of town, we found a large assemblage at the Alhambra on Monday evening, so that it is evident the programme must have especial attractions for those who have not yet gone to the seaside, hillside, moorside, or lakeside… . Filling the place of Miss Kate Santley as Rose Michou, the heroine of Offenbach’s opera bouffe La Jolie Parfumeuse, we have an Australian prima donna, new to the London boards, by name Miss Lottie Montal. It was singular to notice, in one scene especially, the remarkable similarity in Miss Lottie Montal’s conception of the character to that of Miss Kate Santley. We are not aware whether this was intentional or accidental, but the result was the same, and the likeness went far to secure the favour of the audience, apart from Miss Montal’s own claims, which, personal and otherwise, are considerable. With a graceful figure and remarkably easy action Miss Montal combines pleasing features, eminently calculated to add to charm to such a character as that she is now depicting. Her voice is not powerful, neither has it the finest quality of tone, but one great merit belongs to it, which is not likely to pass unappreciated in opera bouffe, it is very flexible, enabling the fair owner to execute any florid passages with great ease. This was noticeable in the drinking song of the second act, one of the prettiest melodies of La Jolie Parfumeuse, in which Miss Montal revealed her best qualities as a singer. The song was rendered with much sparkle, dash, and vivacity, and was deservedly encored. In many other instances Miss Montal was entitled to very sincere congratulations, and the more she becomes accustomed to the large area of the Alhambra the more successful we believe she will be. The somewhat ”risky” scene of the second act, considerably toned down since the first night, leaves nothing at present to offend the fastidious, which (thanks to the droller of Mr [Harry] Paulton, who aids Miss Montal admirably here) it is full of fun. The lady, greatly to her credit, resists the temptation to make the incident too suggestive, and we feel grateful. It might easily be played so as to ”make the unskilful laugh,” but it would certainly tend ”to make the judicious grieve,” and Miss Montal’s judgment in leaving well – or ill – alone must be highly commended… .’
(The Era, London, Sunday, 16 August 1874, p. 11a)

Following her engagement at the Alhambra, Miss Montal was due to appear at the Criterion Theatre, London, but illness intervened.

Lottie Montal at the Alhambra, Leicester Square, London, 1874

Lottie Montal (née Louise Felicie Augustine Jean, 1851-1933), Parisian-born singer, at the time of her appearances at the Alhambra, Leicester Square, London, in 1874.
(cabinet photo: The London Stereoscopic & Photographic Co Ltd, London, 1874. Please note that this photograph has suffered water damage.)

In 1874 Miss Montal was married in London as his third wife to the French-born touring violinist, Horace Remy Poussard (1829-1898). In 1887 Miss Montal was married in New Zealand to Wynne Aubrey MacLean (1857-1890). After his death she lived for a while in London, where she taught singing. She died in London on 13 October 1933.

The Alhambra, Leicester Square, London, week beginning 3 August 1874
‘The Alhambra was crowded to repletion on Monday. The herione in The Pretty Perfumeress, recently played by Miss Kate Santley, is now personated by Miss Lottie Montal, an arch, bright-eyed, clever little lady from Australia, who sings nicely and acts charmingly.’
(Reynold’s Newspaper, London, Sunday, 9 August 1874, p. 5d)

The Alhambra, Leicester Square, London, week beginning 10 August 1874
‘Notwithstanding the repeated statement that everybody is out of town, we found a large assemblage at the Alhambra on Monday evening, so that it is evident the programme must have especial attractions for those who have not yet gone to the seaside, hillside, moorside, or lakeside… . Filling the place of Miss Kate Santley as Rose Michou, the heroine of Offenbach’s opera bouffe La Jolie Parfumeuse, we have an Australian prima donna, new to the London boards, by name Miss Lottie Montal. It was singular to notice, in one scene especially, the remarkable similarity in Miss Lottie Montal’s conception of the character to that of Miss Kate Santley. We are not aware whether this was intentional or accidental, but the result was the same, and the likeness went far to secure the favour of the audience, apart from Miss Montal’s own claims, which, personal and otherwise, are considerable. With a graceful figure and remarkably easy action Miss Montal combines pleasing features, eminently calculated to add to charm to such a character as that she is now depicting. Her voice is not powerful, neither has it the finest quality of tone, but one great merit belongs to it, which is not likely to pass unappreciated in opera bouffe, it is very flexible, enabling the fair owner to execute any florid passages with great ease. This was noticeable in the drinking song of the second act, one of the prettiest melodies of La Jolie Parfumeuse, in which Miss Montal revealed her best qualities as a singer. The song was rendered with much sparkle, dash, and vivacity, and was deservedly encored. In many other instances Miss Montal was entitled to very sincere congratulations, and the more she becomes accustomed to the large area of the Alhambra the more successful we believe she will be. The somewhat ”risky” scene of the second act, considerably toned down since the first night, leaves nothing at present to offend the fastidious, which (thanks to the droller of Mr [Harry] Paulton, who aids Miss Montal admirably here) it is full of fun. The lady, greatly to her credit, resists the temptation to make the incident too suggestive, and we feel grateful. It might easily be played so as to ”make the unskilful laugh,” but it would certainly tend ”to make the judicious grieve,” and Miss Montal’s judgment in leaving well – or ill – alone must be highly commended… .’
(The Era, London, Sunday, 16 August 1874, p. 11a)

Following her engagement at the Alhambra, Miss Montal was due to appear at the Criterion Theatre, London, but illness intervened.

Lottie Montal (née Louise Felicie Augustine Jean, 1851-1933), Parisian-born singer, at the time of her appearances at the Alhambra, Leicester Square, London, in 1874.
(cabinet photo: The London Stereoscopic & Photographic Co Ltd, London, 1874. Please note that this photograph has suffered water damage.)

In 1874 Miss Montal was married in London as his third wife to the French-born touring violinist, Horace Remy Poussard (1829-1898). In 1887 Miss Montal was married in New Zealand to Wynne Aubrey MacLean (1857-1890). After his death she lived for a while in London, where she taught singing. She died in London on 13 October 1933.

The Alhambra, Leicester Square, London, week beginning 3 August 1874
‘The Alhambra was crowded to repletion on Monday. The herione in The Pretty Perfumeress, recently played by Miss Kate Santley, is now personated by Miss Lottie Montal, an arch, bright-eyed, clever little lady from Australia, who sings nicely and acts charmingly.’
(Reynold’s Newspaper, London, Sunday, 9 August 1874, p. 5d)

The Alhambra, Leicester Square, London, week beginning 10 August 1874
‘Notwithstanding the repeated statement that everybody is out of town, we found a large assemblage at the Alhambra on Monday evening, so that it is evident the programme must have especial attractions for those who have not yet gone to the seaside, hillside, moorside, or lakeside… . Filling the place of Miss Kate Santley as Rose Michou, the heroine of Offenbach’s opera bouffe La Jolie Parfumeuse, we have an Australian prima donna, new to the London boards, by name Miss Lottie Montal. It was singular to notice, in one scene especially, the remarkable similarity in Miss Lottie Montal’s conception of the character to that of Miss Kate Santley. We are not aware whether this was intentional or accidental, but the result was the same, and the likeness went far to secure the favour of the audience, apart from Miss Montal’s own claims, which, personal and otherwise, are considerable. With a graceful figure and remarkably easy action Miss Montal combines pleasing features, eminently calculated to add to charm to such a character as that she is now depicting. Her voice is not powerful, neither has it the finest quality of tone, but one great merit belongs to it, which is not likely to pass unappreciated in opera bouffe, it is very flexible, enabling the fair owner to execute any florid passages with great ease. This was noticeable in the drinking song of the second act, one of the prettiest melodies of La Jolie Parfumeuse, in which Miss Montal revealed her best qualities as a singer. The song was rendered with much sparkle, dash, and vivacity, and was deservedly encored. In many other instances Miss Montal was entitled to very sincere congratulations, and the more she becomes accustomed to the large area of the Alhambra the more successful we believe she will be. The somewhat “risky” scene of the second act, considerably toned down since the first night, leaves nothing at present to offend the fastidious, which (thanks to the droller of Mr [Harry] Paulton, who aids Miss Montal admirably here) it is full of fun. The lady, greatly to her credit, resists the temptation to make the incident too suggestive, and we feel grateful. It might easily be played so as to “make the unskilful laugh,” but it would certainly tend “to make the judicious grieve,” and Miss Montal’s judgment in leaving well – or ill – alone must be highly commended… .’
(The Era, London, Sunday, 16 August 1874, p. 11a)

Following her engagement at the Alhambra, Miss Montal was due to appear at the Criterion Theatre, London, but illness intervened.

Harriett Vernon in The Japs, 1885

Harriett Vernon (1852-1923), English music hall singer and actress as Cammpi in The Japs; or, The Doomed Daimio, a burlesque by Harry Paulton and Mostyn Tedde, first produced at the Prince’s Theatre, Bristol, 31 August 1885 and the Novelty Theatre, London, 19 September 1885. Other members of the cast included Lionel Brough, Willie Edouin, Fred Kaye, Kate James and Alice Atherton.
(photo: unknown, probably London, 1885)

Elisa Savelli

a carte de visite photograph of Elisa Savelli (sometimes Eliza Savelli, real name Miss Sewell, fl. 1870s/1880s), English soprano, who created the role of Bi-bi in the English version of Offenbach’s Vert-Vert, produced at the St. James’s Theatre, London, 2 May 1874
(photo: The London Stereoscopic & Photographic Co Ltd, London, mid 1870s)

see details of Opera Rara’s newly released 2 CD recording of Vert-Vert
‘A great success has been achieved at Milan by a young English prima donna now singing there under the name of Mdlle. Savelli. She has been received with great favour in many different rôles, especially in ”La Traviata” and ”Martha.” Mdlle. Savelli, who, in addition to her musical acquirements, is very beautiful, will probably appear in London next season.’
(The Illustrated Police News, &c, London, Saturday, 20 August 1870)

‘SIGNORA ELISA SAVELLI, Prima Donna Assoluto Soprano,
‘Has returned to London, after a brilliant and successful career of four years in Italy, singing to Milan and other Principal Cities. Will shortly appear at one of our large Theatres, being especially Engaged from Milan, to represent the Principal Par in the Opera ”Le Roi Carote.” Disengaged up till the 3d June. Apply, Mr. Carte, 20, Charing-cross.’ (The Era, London, Sunday, 12 May 1872, advertisement)

‘ALHAMBRA THEATRE ROYAL. ‘The Manager, Mr. John Baum, begs to inform the nobility and gentry that, on the 3d of June, will be produced, on a scale of magnificence hitherto unapproached in London, the Grand Opera Bouffe Feerie, LE ROI CAROTTE, in which upwards of 1,000 dresses will appear upon the stage. Music by Mons. J. Offenbach. Words translated and adapted to the English stage by Henry S. Leigh, Esq.
‘The artistes engaged include Mdlle. Elise Savelli, [Anetta] Scasi, and Cornelia D’Anka; Messrs, Selle, Connell, Warboys, and [Harry] Paulton.
‘Two Premier Danseuses, Mdlle. Nini and Bertha Linda, who will make their first appearance in London. A powerful chorus has been carefully selected, and with the magnificent Orchestra will be under the immediate direction of Mons. [Georges] Jacobi.’
(Reynolds’s Newspaper, London, Sunday, 26 May 1872, advertisement)

‘ALHAMBRA THEATRE ROYAL. – FIRST NIGHT of LE ROI CAROTTE.
‘ALHAMBRA THEATRE ROYAL. -FIRST APPEARANCE of the celebrated Prima Donna Mdlle. ELISA SAVELLI, from Milan, Naples, &c. …’
(The Daily News, London, Monday, 3 June 1872, advertisement)
The Alhambra, extract from a review of Le Roi Carotte
‘… Mdlle. Cornelia D’Anka, who was Cunégonde, as usual, captivated all hearts by her handsome face and figure. Her vocal ability, too, enabled her to render good service, and it was manifestly impossible for the audience to be anything but pleased with so fascinating an artiste, even when she kept them waiting, which, we are compelled to say, she did more than once. The loving Rosee had a capital representative in Mdlle. Elisa Savelli, who was literally overwhelmed with bouquets for her rendering of a charming and plaintive air in which she envies the flowers and the birds, and sighs for release from captivity. Miss [Violet] Cameron was Coloquinte, the sorceress, and she only calls for remark by reason of the scantiness of her dress… .’
(The Era, London, Sunday, 9 June 1872)

The Alhambra, extract from a further review of Le Roi Carotte
‘… Mdlle. Elisa Savelli is also brilliantly successful as Rosee du Soir, and sings the air in the third act so well as to gain an encore, and the duet with Mdlle. Anetta Scasi, ”Guide me! guide me!” is equally successful and qually meritorious on the part of both ladies… .’
(The Era, London, Sunday, 4 August 1872)

‘ALHAMBRA THEATRE ROYAL. –
‘Seventy-ninth Night, and during the week, LE ROI CAROTTE. Principal Characters:- Miss Kate Santley (her First Appearance), Annetta Scasi, and Elisa Savelli; Messrs F.H. Celli, E. Connell, Worboys, Robins, and Harry Paulton. 250 Coryphees. The Opera commences at 8.15; terminated at 11.40.
‘The coolest and best ventilated Theatre in London.’
(The Era, London, Sunday, 1 September 1872, advertisement)

‘SIGNORA SAVELLI. – This talented vocalist, who has become quite a favourite at the Alhambra, on Monday evening, at two hours’ notice, undertook the role of Robin Wildfire in Le Roi Carotte, and created what we may truthfully term a furore. She is we understand specially engaged for the part of the Princess in The Black Crook [1st performance, Christmas Eve, 1872], now in active preparation.’
(The Era, London, Sunday, 1 December 1872)

The Alhambra, The Black Crook
‘… On the acting in the piece high praise may be bestowed, Mdlle. Savelli, who carried off the principal honours of the evening, sustains the part of Desirée with grace and skill, and is none the less impressive because she always avoids exaggeration… .’
(The Times, London, Friday, 27 December 1872

‘ITALIAN OPERA CONCERT. – A concert will be given this (Saturday) evening at the Victoria Rooms by several artistes of the Royal Italian Opera. The Brighton Gazette speaks highly of the vocal powers of Madame Savelli and Signor Brennelli, two of the artistes who will take part in the concert.’
(The Bristol Mercury and Daily Post, Bristol, Saturday, 19 September 1885)

‘MADAME ELISA SAVELLI,
‘Prima Donna, Soprano Dramatica, for Italian and English Opera.
‘Madame Savelli’s beautiful and artistic rendering of ”Convien Parti” (Donnizetti) was much admired, as was also her rendering of the ”Stella Confidenta,” which was enthusiastically encored. She is possessed of a magnificent soprano voice of rich and powerful quality such as is rarely heard. – Bristol Times and Mirror.
‘Address all communications to Mr Gilbert Tail, 6, York-street, Covent-garden, W.C.’
(The Era, London, Saturday, 3 October 1885, advertisement)

‘On Saturday next Her Majesty’s Theatre is announced to open at popular prices, with a company selected in Italy and France. Well-known operas will be given, commencing with Il Trovatore, Faust, Rigoletto, Lucia, Il Barbiere, La Traviata, Ernani, Fra Diavolo, LaGioconda, and, later on (never performed in England), La Ione. Mesdames Savelli, Dalti, Appia, Potentini, Signori Debiliers, Mascheroni, Genoesi, Fernando, Gualterio Bolton, Tamberlik, and Brennelli, are among the engagements.’
(The Era, London, Saturday, 20 February 1886)

Her Majesty’s Theatre, Haymarket…
‘Those present last night when the ”house of amber curtains” reopened its door with a performance of Verdi’s ”Il Trovatore” would scarcely have felt inclined to declare that Italian opera was a thing of the past unless some bright, particular star condescended to brighten it with her presence, for a large and friendly audience had gathered together to hear this old and hackneyed work, who certainly were not attracted by any particular bright star, seeing there was nothing of the sort upon the premises… . The heroine was, vocally speaking, well rendered by a Madame Elisa Savelli, who, if we are not mistaken, some fifteen years or so since was known as a Miss Sewell. Time has, however, not improved her personal appearance, as she is now considerably too broad for her length, and, in the bridal dress of which satin, bore a curious resemblance to Miss Minnie Warren, the wife of General Tom Thumb. Being accommodated with a tall, stern lady as a made of honour (Mdlle. Corona) made this lack of symmetry all the more apparent… .
(Reynolds’s Newspaper, London, Sunday, 28 February 1886

Her Majesty’s Theatre
‘… In Saturday’s representation Madame Savelli was cast for Leonora, and Signor Fernando for her ill-fated troubadour lover; … In her performance as Leonora Madame Savelli displayed considerable vocal and dramatic power in the declamatory portions of her music, with an occasional tendency to exaggerated effort and a strained use of her upper notes. She was favourably received throughout, especially in the great scenes with Manrico and the Count… .’
(The Daily News, London, Monday, 1 March 1886

London, Sunday Night
‘Her Majesty’s Theatre was re-opened last night for a season of Italian opera at cheap prices… . The Leonora was, curiously enough, taken from the Alhambra, where she sang some years ago as Mdlle. Savelli, the foreign equivalent of her own English name of Miss Sewell. Although still in fairly good voice the lady has now attained well night the physical proportions of a Titiens and Parepa combined, and her appearance in bridal costume was irresistibly comical… .’
(The Glasgow Herald, Glasgow, Monday, 1 Marcy 1886)

‘On Saturday night, during the performance of Il Trovatore at Her Majesty’s, a mishap occurred which, but for the presence of mind of certain individuals, might have resulted in serious consequences to Madame Savelli, the Leonora of the evening. Madame Savelli’s figure is not exactly like Madame Sarah Bernhardt’s, and in moving backwards to execute a fall at the end of the opera she tumbled ”all of a heap” beneath the ponderous roller of the descending curtain, and had not the stage-manager and an attendant run forward and dragged her out of her dangerous position, she might have been seriously injured. The audience expressed their sympathy with Madame Savelli’s narrow escape by calling her enthusiastically before the curtain.’
(The Era, London, Saturday, 6 March 1886)

Il Trovatore, Her Majesty’s, Saturday, 27 February 1886
‘… Without ranking ourselves with those unimaginative individuals who cannot overlook certain personal disqualifications for a role when its rendering is illuminated by genius, we must say that we had to ”make believe very much” indeed to accept a portly, matronly lady of Madame Savelli’s physique as an ideal Leonora. There is something cruet, to our thinking, in calling upon a person of Madame Savelli’s liberal proportions and limited dramatic and vocal acquirements, to face a London audience in such a part. No one felt more keenly than ourselves the failure of the singer to reach the higher notes of her role, and to embody the emotional characteristics of the heroine; and no one sympathised more with the lady in her difficulty in assuming kneeling and falling attitudes. The fault, we felt, was not so much hers as that of those who permitted her to appear in a wrong position – literally and metaphorically… .’
(The Era, London, Saturday, 6 March 1886)