In 1854 the Opéra reopened after a long closure with a revival of La Favorite. I wrote the following observations on the subject, which seem not without relevance today.

“The Opéra has reopened. Mme. Stoltz has returned, more dramatic than ever in the fine role of Léonor. This glittering occasion was followed by two no less remarkable performances of the same work, after which the Opéra, to refresh itself, gave a performance of Le Maître Chanteur by Monsieur Limnander, a score containing some charming things which in my opinion are much too little noticed. After Le Maître Chanteur came La Reine de Chypre, in which Mme. Stoltz once again won triumphal honours, with fanfares of trumpets, bouquets thrown from the boxes and wild acclamation on all sides. Everyone who had anything to do with the Opéra took part; and I wasn’t there! La Fontaine’s fable is quite right, absence is the greatest of all evils, especially for me with my unfailing bad luck. When I’m in Paris, nothing could be more lifeless and dull than our opera houses. But the moment I turn my back on it they’re full of fireworks, with spectacular successes rocketing to the artistic heavens in their thousands.

“Mme. Stoltz has lost none of her voice nor of her blazing energy, so everyone is saying. But for my part my advice to her is that she’s overdoing it. She’s hoisting too much sail, laying bare too much of her soul; she’s killing herself, burning herself out. One must look to the morrow, and our Opéra audiences are not used to such luxuriance of dramatic energy or such profusion of passionate expression. They gave all that up for lost a long time ago: we shouldn’t let them get used to it again. Mme. Stoltz could and should limit her ardour to a suitably lukewarm temperature, telling herself like Rossini: E troppo buono per questi.

There are notable examples afforded by some even more notable singers to prove my point beyond dispute. One of them omits certain phrases in her finest arias, and takes a few bars’ rest so as not to tire herself.