The dining room of Lowell House was transformed into the great hall of a Georgian palace last night, and in it I spent one of the most delightful evenings I can remember. The crystal chandeliers shone down on powdered wigs, hoop skirts, and velvet-coats, as the Lowell House Musical Society revived Handel's pastoral opera, "Acis and Galatea." Baroque chairs and cabinets had replaced the High Table, and behind them hung an elaborate tapestry of the best Watteau variety. Two red canopies and scattered Georgian pilasters completed the picture.

Paul Tibbetts as the fiend, Polyphemus, must be mentioned first. Anyone who has been in Cambridge for more than a year does not need to read praise of his magnificent voice. This was, however, the first time I had seen him act (pose in this case in probably a better word), and D'Oyly Carte's Mikado never excelled him in evil expression. Handel's bass arias are distinguished for the acrobatics they demand. Tibbetts showed his complete competence, however, and some breath control that I haven't heard surpassed.

From the New England Conservatory of Music came Marguerite Willauer to play Galatea. You will look long before you find such a lovely and poised creature on an opera stage. Except for a few uncertainties, she sang with purity and richness. Her alternating recitative with Tibbetts compares favorably with any singing around, including, I expect, the Met next week.

The part of shepherdess Damon was sung by June Donald from the Longy School in a touching natural way. Acis, played by James Perrin, was the only incongruous character. His costume, a combination of long underwear and a green and pink midriff, seemed to clash with everything in sight. Nor did he show the skill at stylization of the other characters, but remained pompously planted throughout most of the production. His tenor voice was robust, however, and, with a few exceptions in the Upper register, assured.

Professor French deserves the highest praise for training the chorus in behavior, which was sufficiently indifferent to the action on stage, and for precise cooperation. The hymn-like a cappella sections of the finale were perfectly beautiful. But Malcolm Holmes, the conductor, cannot be given such plaudits. Although the orchestra showed its capabilities, he failed on several attacks and seldom succeeded in subduing the instrumentalists in time to get the soloists' first phrases.