One can perhaps see why it has been in limbo since its premiere at the Theater an der Wien in 1893. Strauss already had behind him his greatest operetta triumphs, from Die Fledermaus to The Gypsy Baron. An opera-comique produced a season before Ninetta, Ritter Pasman, had not pleased the public. In fact, the next big Strauss success would be the pasticcio Wiener Blut, created after he died.
Viennese operetta generally was in decline in the 1890s. Although many works were produced, few have endured—among them Zeller’s Vogelhaendler and Heuberger’s Opernball, at either end of the decade. It would take Lehar to revitalize the genre with The Merry Widow in 1905.
Princess Ninetta was originally played by Ilka von Palmay, a Hungarian operetta soprano faintly remembered in Budapest, but well known to ardent Savoyards as the singer who created the only “English” part in the otherwise “German” final operetta of Gilbert & Sullivan, The Grand Duke (1894). She must have had a thick Hungarian accent—it would have been amusing to hear her play either Yum-Yum or Nanki-Poo in earlier productions of The Mikado (she played both).
The other star was the legendary Viennese singer-comedian Alexander Girardi, around whom entire operettas were built, testifying to his stature in the Austrian theatre. Here he was a mysterious Russian-Turkish diplomat called Kassim Pascha who had started his career as a circus hypnotist.
Ninetta spends a lot of time disguised as a male tour guide, making her soprano flights all the more piquant; perhaps Victor Herbert was acquainted with this work, but then, transvestism of this type was typical in Viennese operetta. Once again, we have a couple about to be married, this time in a Sorrento beach resort hotel, but complications of course delay the proceedings, as they inevitably do in operetta-land. I cannot vouch for the dialog, begun by a forgotten provincial intendant and polished up by the reputable Richard Genee (who had his hand in several lasting Strauss operettas), but the lyrics are often quite amusing, and the work begins with a through-composed section with Italian words that recalls Sullivan’s long, memorable opening for The Gondoliers (1889, seen in Vienna).
Strauss was always enchanted with Italy, and there are a number of Italian-style solos, choruses, and dances in Ninetta, some quite attractive, if not about to displace the music from the far more effective Night in Venice in your head. Amidst all the tarantellas, marches, galops, and other pattery, fast-tempo songs are Strauss’s waltzes. There is also a direct reference to Auber’s opera-comique Fra Diavolo, about the feared bandit who may have been lurking around the Amalfi coast some 63 years after his first red-blooded appearance in Paris.
Other treats include a Swiss yodelling song, a number where Kassim Pascha teaches Ninetta how to hypnotize, and a merry quintet in Act II with a memorable waltz mid-section. It all bounces by agreeably, even zippily in this rendition from Sweden, with an excellent cast handling its German well. Valeria Csanyi conducts the Stockholm Strauss Orchestra with aplomb. The Pizzicato Polka, composed at this time by Strauss, in given as a ballet interpolation.