Aida from Philadelphia

In Philadelphia's Little Italy some 20 years ago there was a small, shabby theatre where neighbors dropped in to see a bit of drama, a bit of clowning and got for good measure a dash of grand opera. The impresario was Ferruccio Giannini, a tenor who could boast that he had once sung with Patti. At home the Gianninis made music all the time. The mother Antoinetta played the violin. Daughters Euphemia and Dusolina sang. Vittorio played the piano. Son Francis had a cello when he was big enough to wield one. Dusolina Giannini was 9 when she made her debut at her father's little theatre. At 12, she sang Azucena in 77 Trovatore, a performance in which her father was supposed to be her son. Last week Ferruccio Giannini sat in a box at Manhattan's Metropolitan Opera House, proudly watched his daughter make a formal debut.

No one would have guessed that Dusolina Giannini had never rehearsed on the Metropolitan stage. But everyone knew that she was far from being a novice, that on the strength of her European reputation she had deserved a Metropolitan hearing several years ago. There were those in the audience who remembered her sensational concert debut in 1923,when she appeared in Carnegie Hall as a plump, glossy-haired girl of 19, an unknown suddenly called upon to substitute for Soprano Anna Case. Subject for high praise then was the beauty of her voice, its vibrant warmth, its effortless production. Smooth singing was to be expected at her Metropolitan debut, and with the exception of a few strained top notes there was little fault to find. Surprise was to see her appear as a lithe, graceful woman 25 Ib. thinner than she used to be, to see an Aida who appeared not like a prima donna stained brown for the occasion, but like the sultry, brooding slave girl that Verdi had in mind.

Germany and Austria have pronounced Giannini a great dramatic artist. Toscanini chose her to sing in Falstaff at the Salzburg Festival last summer (TIME, Sept. 2), chose her again for his General Motors broadcast and for his forthcoming performance of the Verdi Requiem. But Father Giannini waited until last week to form his own opinion, then said: "I always think my Dusolina, she has a very nice voice. Now I believe she acts very good."

After the performance last week there was a family reunion, quiet talk of the mother who died two years ago, of Marcella Sembrich who was Dusolina's teacher, of the late Daniel Mayer, the manager who started her on her career, made it his business to see that she read profitable books, helped her with her programs and her costumes, developed her taste. Absent also was Brother Vittorio, now a recognized composer studying in Italy on a Pix de Rome fellowship.

There was music as there always has been when the Gianninis get together. Father Ferruccio felt that it was his turn to perform, stoutly sang duets with his celebrated daughter, rebuked her firmly when he considered his way better.

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