...The public moulds dramatic talent. Who forms our public?

Before the curtain goes up on opera, tragedy or ballets the young man about town strolls through all ten rows of the stalls, treading on everyone's feet, chatting to one and all, whether he knows them or not.

"Who have you come from?"

"from Semenova*, from Sosnitskaya, from Kolosova, from Istomina"

"How favoured are you!"

"She is singing, she is acting, she is dancing today - lets applaud her -
lets call her out! She is so charming! She has such eyes! Such a foot! Such talent!" The curtain goes up. The young man and his friends, moving from place to place, are in raptures and applaud. Far be it for me to censure ardent, of heedless youth; I know it calls for indulgence. But can one reply on the opinions of such critics?

Often a singer, male or female, having won love of our public, drags out an aria on a false note. Experts notice it, enthusiasts feel it, but they remain silent through respect for talent. Others applaud through trust, and cry encore out of decency.

A tragic actor thunders more loudly, more vigorously than his wont: the Gods are transported with ecstasy, applause lifts the roof...

A further comment. The majority of those who fill the stalls are too concerned with the fate of Europe, and of their father-land, are too worn out by work, are too serious-minded, too important, too cautious in expressing soul stirring emotions to feel any concern for the qualityof dramatic art (Russian, at that). And if at half-past six, the same faces appear from the barracks and the council chamber to fill up the front rows of reserved stalls; it is for them a matter of agreed etiquette rather than a pleasant relaxation. On no account can one expect any sound views and judgements to be born of their cold vacuity, and, even less, any signs of feeling. Consequently they serve but as respectable decoration for the Bolshoi Kamenny theatre, and in no way belong either to the crowd of enthusiasts, or to the company of enlightened or impassioned critics.

One further comment. These great men of our day, bearing on their faces the monotonous stamp of boredom, hauteur, worry and stupidity, inseparable from the pattern of thier lives, these regular occupants of the front row, frowningat come-dies, yawning at tragedies, dozing at operas, attentive perhaps only at ballets, must they not perforce dampen the performance of our most ardent actors, and induce a state of indolence and languor in their souls, that is, if nature has endowed them with souls?

*. Semenova and Sosnitskaya were actresses; E. I. Kolosova was a ballet dancer, and her daughter, Alexandra, an actress much admired by Pushkin. Istomina was the ballet dancer described in the first chapter of Eugene Onegin, Stanzas 20-22.