The most brilliant French opera, and, even in Germany, the most popular of all operas, Bizet's "Carmen," was presented Tuesday night to a small but responsive audience by the Boston Opera Company in conjunction with the Pavlowa Ballet Russe. The gorgeous wealth of melody and the exquisite sensuous indulgence, to which the work owes its universal appreciation, taken together with its tragic climaxes, make "Carmen" extremely difficult to produce. Although the performance was uneven and disheartening at first, it improved immensely as the evening progressed, and the work may be said to have been on the whole extremely creditable.

The title role is one of extraordinary difficulty, for it is almost as hard to find a prima donna whose character lends itself to this part as to find a young man who can act Hamlet. Mme. Gay, however, made up for what freshness, color and tone she may lack by a thoughtful and effective study of the part. Fortunately avoiding any wild excesses of passion, she differed from Farrar's interpretation by giving Carmen more restraint and treachery.

Both Gay and Martin, as Don Jose, suffered from self-consciousness during the first act and did not reach the height of their powers until the third act, when they absolutely forgot themselves and did splendidly. Martin has a tightness in the throat which is very common among German tenors.

In George Baklanoff the Boston Opera Company has a dramatic tenor of the first order. His rendering of Escamillo was certainly all that could be desired, and his personality is such that when he steps upon the stage the audience feels the presence of a great artist.

Moranzoni conducted with precision, perfect command and a vigorous tempo, getting the most out of the talent that was before him. The chorus was responsible for the uneasiness in the first act, and the tenors were especially weak and uncontrolled; but the conductor, to whom the honors of the occasion belong, was more effective in getting them to rights than the prompter and those behind the scenes, and the smoothness of the second act was followed by an artistic triumph in Act III.

Ballet Russe in place of the Spanish ballet was a fortunate exchange for those who were anxious to see Pavlowa, though it was a peculiar anachronism nevertheless. The spirit of Russia which Pavlowa seems to embody so wonderfully was a little out of season, but her performance was of such perfection that it was complete in itself. With what subtlety and marvelous grace she expresses that terrible Russian contrast a wild, rhapsodical indulgence, and an all-impregnating, heart-rending despair!