Some of the press criticisms of Gerster's performances during her tour in 1881 were highly amusing. The following were selected from a paper published in a large Southern city: "Mrs. Gerster's Lucia is the Lucia of our youth, and our first ecstasies{209}arose as from a nest of flowers as fresh and adorable as ever," whatever that may mean. What it ordinarily described as a walk was pictured in the following mysterious sentence: "Her light tread as of a restless and frightened bird." Some of her trills were described as "aflame with passionate intoxication," while others were "white and wet with the tears of grief." All this excellence was manifested with "never a scream to mar her singing." Such admirable descriptions must have gone far towards reconciling those who were unable to see and hear the great songstress.
There is and has been much fault to find with American musical criticism. Excellent musicians have been subjected to the vulgar abuse of self-sufficient ignoramuses. A movement was recently put on foot to establish a school of musical journalism, and possibly the following selection, which was written concerning a lady of excellent musical{210}ability and of world-wide reputation, may be allowed here as an argument in favor of a proper training for critics. For absolute vulgarity it may be awarded a first prize. It was written in 1882 in a city which lays claim to civilization, and the only excuse for its introduction is the hope that it may serve a good end.
"The divine —— was as resolute as usual, which, by the way, she ought to be, being well seasoned. The editor of this paper makes no great pretensions in the way of musical criticism, but when a genuine six hundred dollar grand spiral subsand twist, back-action, self-adjusting, chronometer-balanced, full-jewelled, fourth-proof, ripsnorting conglomeration comes to town, he proposes to hump himself. Her diaphragm has evidently not, like wine, improved with old age. Her upper register is up-stairs near the skylight, while her lower register is closed for repairs. The aforesaid —— performed her triple act of singing, rolling her eyes, and speaking to some one at the wings, at the same time. Her smiles at the feller behind the scenes were divine. Her singing, when she condescended to pay attention to the audience, to my critical ear (the other ear being{211}folded up) seemed to be a blending of fortissimo, crescendo, damfino or care either. Her costume was the harmonious blending of the circus tent and balloon style, and was very gorgeous, barring a tendency to spill some of its contents out at the top. The Italian part of the business was as fidgety and furious as usual, and demonstrated what early associations with hand-organ and monkey will accomplish."The venerable and obese freak of nature,——, was as usual, his appearance very nearly resembling a stove in a corner grocery, or water-tank on a narrow-gauge railroad. He was not fully appreciated until he turned to go off the stage. Then he appeared to the best advantage, and seemed to take an interest in getting out of sight as quickly as possible, an effort in which he had the hearty approval of the audience."
"The divine —— was as resolute as usual, which, by the way, she ought to be, being well seasoned. The editor of this paper makes no great pretensions in the way of musical criticism, but when a genuine six hundred dollar grand spiral subsand twist, back-action, self-adjusting, chronometer-balanced, full-jewelled, fourth-proof, ripsnorting conglomeration comes to town, he proposes to hump himself. Her diaphragm has evidently not, like wine, improved with old age. Her upper register is up-stairs near the skylight, while her lower register is closed for repairs. The aforesaid —— performed her triple act of singing, rolling her eyes, and speaking to some one at the wings, at the same time. Her smiles at the feller behind the scenes were divine. Her singing, when she condescended to pay attention to the audience, to my critical ear (the other ear being{211}folded up) seemed to be a blending of fortissimo, crescendo, damfino or care either. Her costume was the harmonious blending of the circus tent and balloon style, and was very gorgeous, barring a tendency to spill some of its contents out at the top. The Italian part of the business was as fidgety and furious as usual, and demonstrated what early associations with hand-organ and monkey will accomplish.
"The venerable and obese freak of nature,——, was as usual, his appearance very nearly resembling a stove in a corner grocery, or water-tank on a narrow-gauge railroad. He was not fully appreciated until he turned to go off the stage. Then he appeared to the best advantage, and seemed to take an interest in getting out of sight as quickly as possible, an effort in which he had the hearty approval of the audience."
Maurice Strakosch, on behalf of Christine Nilsson, brought suit against a paper published in a large town in New York State for printing an article under the head of "Nilsson Swindle," in which the bucolic editor declared that Nilsson was no singer and could not be compared with Jenny Lind;{212}therefore she had no right to charge Lind prices.
Marcella Sembrich, who made her début in 1877 as an opera singer, is one of the most talented musicians of the century. She was born in Galicia, at Lemberg, in 1858, and was taught music by her father, while very young. She appeared in a concert at the age of twelve, playing both the pianoforte and the violin. She continued her studies on these instruments under Stengel and Bruckmann, professors at Lemberg, and then went to Vienna to complete her studies under Franz Liszt. Here, however, she was found to be the possessor of an unusually fine voice, which she began to cultivate under Lamperti the younger, and she decided to become an opera singer.
Her engagement in Athens, where her début took place, was highly successful, and she next appeared at Dresden in October, 1878, where she remained until the spring{213}of 1880, acquiring a high reputation. In June of that year she made her first appearance in London, under the management of Mr. Ernest Gye, and was so successful that she was engaged for the two following seasons.
Of the impression made by her in London, one of the critics wrote: "Her voice has been so carefully tutored that we cannot think of any part in any opera, where a genuine soprano is essential, that could present difficulties to its possessor not easily got overper saltum." Sembrich was included with Patti, Gerster, Di Murska, and Albani, as one of "the great lights of the day," in 1880.
In St. Petersburg Mlle. Sembrich once gave a concert which drew an immense audience, all the tickets being sold. The receipts, which amounted to over nine thousand rubles, were handed over to the poor students' fund. At this concert, the audience{214}had the opportunity to admire her in the capacities of singer, violinist, and pianist. As a violinist she could be listened to with pleasure; as a pianist she was considered worthy of a place in the front rank, particularly as an excellent interpreter of Chopin, while as a singer she was one of the "great lights of the day."
Mlle. Sembrich married her former teacher, Stengel, and has for many years made her home in Dresden.
She is an ardent horse-woman, and is said to have called forth a somewhat doubtful compliment from the Emperor of Germany, when her horse became frightened during a military review, and she succeeded in managing the animal with great skill. "Madame," said he, "if you were not the greatest singer in the world, you would be empress of the circus."
In 1897 Mlle. Sembrich made a tour of the United States, singing in concerts in{215}most of the large cities, and fully maintaining her high reputation.
In 1879, at Turin, another young American singer made her début, at the age of eighteen. Marie Van Zandt came of a New York family of Dutch extraction. Her mother was a singer of some renown, and had been a member of the Carl Rosa company. Marie was taught singing by Lamperti, and after her début in Turin she went to London, and appeared at Her Majesty's Theatre, where she was well received on account of the freshness of her voice and her unaffected style. The following year she appeared in Paris at the Opera Comique as Mignon, and made such a success that she was immediately engaged for a term of years.
Although her voice was extremely light, it was of sweet quality, and marvellously flexible. Her success in Paris was instantaneous, and she became the pet of society, besides which she was, strange to say, well{216}liked by her fellow artists, and admired by her impresario. Ambroise Thomas, the composer, declared her to be the very impersonation of Mignon, and she sang in that rôle sixty-one nights to crowded houses. It is doubtful whether any singer ever won more rapid fame. At the end of her season she had impresarios from Sweden, Russia, England, and America offering her engagements. It is said, too, that no less than six composers wrote operas for her, and that Delibes's "Lakmé" was one of these.
In November, 1884, Rossini's "Barbiere" was revived, and Miss Van Zandt was cast for the leading part. She was, however, so overcome by nervousness that she lost her voice, and was, in consequence, treated most shamefully by the press and public of fickle Paris. She therefore obtained leave of absence, and played in Copenhagen and other places, appearing in St. Petersburg on December 17th. In 1885,{217}when she returned to Paris, the hostile attacks upon her were renewed, and M. Carvalho agreed to break the contract. Notwithstanding a riot, which was carried on chiefly by a mob of about a thousand persons, who surrounded the Opera House, Miss Van Zandt made a great success. The people in the house, with a few exceptions, gave her a double recall, men waved their hats, women their handkerchiefs, and there was an immense burst of applause. The rioters kept at the back of the boxes.
She now went to London and created a great impression in "Lakmé," at the Gaiety Theatre.
An incident of her early career in Paris carried with it a certain amount of romance. A young Frenchman bribed her cabman to take her to a certain restaurant after the opera, where he and his friends were waiting to invite her to supper. Through the vigilance of her mother the plan was frustrated,{218}but the story of the incident reached America, and came to the ears of a young man who had been an early playmate of the prima donna, and whose affection had grown stronger as time passed on. He went over to Paris, and challenged the young Frenchman to mortal combat. The Frenchman acknowledged the irreproachable character of Mlle. Van Zandt, but expressed himself as being quite at the service of the gentleman for any amount of fighting. Details of the fight are not on file.
Miss Van Zandt was born in Texas, where her father owned a ranch, and her childhood was spent in the enjoyment of the free life of the plains. Her family later removed to New York, and then to London. She met Adelina Patti, who was so pleased with her voice that she gave her every encouragement, and is said to have called her her successor. But there have been so many successors of Patti!{219}
A few years after Miss Van Zandt's début, an amusing rivalry sprang up between her and another young American soprano, Emma Nevada. So bitter was the hostility, that one evening, when Miss Van Zandt was taken ill suddenly during the performance, her friends went so far as to declare that she had been drugged by the adherents of Miss Nevada. Such little quarrels are frequent among prima donnas, and are doubtless largely engineered by the newspapers, whose appetite for the sensational is enormous.
On April 27, 1898, at the mayoralty of the Champs Elysées district in Paris, Marie Van Zandt was married to Petrovitch de Tcherinoff, a Russian state councillor, and professor at the Imperial Academy of Moscow, after which it was announced that she would retire from the stage.{220}
Toevery opera-goer of the past ten years the name of Nordica has become almost as familiar as that of Patti was during the last generation. Nordica, or rather, Giglia Nordica, was the name assumed by Lillian Norton when she made her début on the operatic stage. She was born in Farmington, Me., and at the age of fifteen, giving great promise as a singer, she entered the New England Conservatory in Boston, Mass., where she studied voice under John O'Neil. Three years later she graduated from the Conservatory with honors. She was remarkable for her beauty and amiability as much as for her voice, which was a soprano of the{221}purest kind. During her years of study at the Conservatory she gained much experience by singing in church and in concerts, and for a time she accompanied Samuel R. Kelley's Tableaux d'Art Company, receiving for her services as vocalist the modest compensation of five dollars an evening.
Nordica.
Nordica.
On leaving the Conservatory, she was invited to sing in concerts in Philadelphia, Baltimore, Cleveland, St. Louis, and New York, where she took leading parts in the oratorios of "Elijah," "Creation," "Messiah," etc. In 1873 she was engaged for a concert tour in England, Scotland, Ireland, Belgium, Holland, and France, during which her repertoire consisted of classical music only. During this tour she sang at the Crystal Palace, near London, and at the Trocadero in Paris. She then went to Milan, where she studied opera under Signor Sangiovanni, and made her operatic début at Brescia, in "Traviata."{222}
In October, 1880, she was engaged at Genoa for fifteen performances of "Faust," in which she took the part of Marguerite. She next sang at Novara, where she took the part of Alice in "Roberto," and was afterwards engaged for thirty-five performances at Aquila in "Faust," "Rigoletto," and "Lucia."
Her next engagement was in St. Petersburg, where she sang in "L'Africaine," taking the rôle of Inez, in "The Marriage of Figaro" as Cherubino, in "Mignon" as Filina, in "Ugonotti" as Queen Marguerite, in "Don Giovanni" as Zerlina, and in "Il Propheto" as Berta, besides other operas. Thus she acquired in a comparatively short time, and by dint of extremely hard work, quite an extensive repertoire.
In 1882 she endured the crucial test of the Grand Opera House in Paris, where, in spite of the "Claque," which is so frequently organized to kill off new singers, she made{223}a grand success, and an engagement for three years ensued. Some years later, however, in spite of the renown which she had gained, fickle Paris grew cold, and critics were laconic. At this time Nordica did not need the approval of Paris, for she was well established among the great singers of the period, and it is recognized that, while a success in Paris is considered an important conquest, a failure counts for little. The firm establishment of the "Claque," which is so well described by Mr. Sutherland Edwards, and the proverbial caprice of Parisian audiences, are sufficient to take the edge off of defeat. At the termination of her engagement in Paris, in 1883, Nordica married Mr. Frederick A. Gower, who shortly afterwards was supposed to have lost his life while attempting to cross the English Channel in a balloon. This matter remained a mystery for many years, for, while there was no doubt that he started on the perilous{224}journey, nothing was ever after seen or heard of him or of the balloon. The question of his death, therefore, remained in doubt, and when, after a lapse of more than a dozen years, it was announced that Madame Nordica was about to enter the bonds of matrimony a second time, she suffered much annoyance from the rumors which were spread about to the effect that Mr. Gower was in various parts of the world. These rumors never proved to have any foundation, and, except for the annoyance, must have been somewhat flattering as evidence of the interest taken in the prima donna by the public.
In 1887 Nordica sang in Berlin, and made a complete capture of the Berlinese, a most unusual achievement for an American prima donna. She also appeared in London at Drury Lane, and by the sweetness and freshness of her voice, and by the alternating charm and intensity of her style as an{225}actress, she won a firm and lasting hold on the British public. She now enjoyed the most marked social attentions, and sang at a state concert at Buckingham Palace before an audience composed of princes, princesses, dukes, Indian royalties, etc. The Princess of Wales came forward and thanked her, the prince added his word, and her triumph was complete. The climax was reached, however, when she was commanded by the queen to sing in Westminster Abbey. She sang "Let the bright Seraphim," which selection has for years been the standard for state occasions. Indeed, it may be said that when a prima donna has been commanded to sing "Let the bright Seraphim," in Westminster Abbey, she has achieved the highest honor possible in England. Madame Albani has exceeded this in having had the honor of lunching with the queen, but this latter was more a tribute to her worth as a woman than as an artist.{226}
One of Nordica's greatest assumptions has been that of the rôle of Elsa in "Lohengrin." She has the feeling, the artistic understanding, which, combined with beautiful vocal gifts, brings out the most delicate shading of the part. It is doubtful whether any greater representations of "Lohengrin" have been given than when Nordica sang Elsa, and Jean de Reszke the title rôle.
Her success in such parts led her to devote her attention more particularly to Wagnerian rôles, and in 1894 she sang with great success at Bayreuth.
Nordica has for several seasons visited the United States as a member of the Abbey and Grau Opera Company, which contained such singers as Emma Eames, Melba, Calvé, Scalchi, the De Reszkes, Plançon, and Lassalle. In 1897, when Abbey and Grau failed, Madame Nordica was a creditor to the extent of $5,000. When the affairs of the company were arranged, an agreement{227}was reached with Madame Nordica, by which she was to receive $1,000 a night. To her surprise, she afterwards discovered that Melba was to receive $1,200, Calvé $1,400, Jean de Reszke $1,200, with an additional percentage of the receipts. To add to her humiliation, the part of Brunhilde was given to Madame Melba, whose health, by the way, collapsed suddenly after her first performance of that part, and necessitated a speedy departure for Paris. Nordica left the company, and in doing so had the moral support of the public, for, while there were many complaints about the excessive salaries demanded by opera singers, there seemed to be no reason why Madame Nordica should not insist upon her share. Statements were also made to the effect that Jean de Reszke would never again sing with Nordica.
The years 1896 and 1897 were years of much financial depression in the United States, a fact which does not seem to have{228}been fully appreciated by opera singers, for the collapse of the season seems to have given rise to considerable bitterness of feeling.
Madame Nordica took unto herself Madame Scalchi, the contralto, and Barron Berthald, a young tenor, who in a night achieved fame, and toured the country giving concerts, but with little success. Whatever truth there may have been in the reported coolness between Madame Nordica and Jean de Reszke, either diplomacy or the exigencies of the opera singer's hard lot brought about an ostensible reconciliation; for in London, during the opera season of 1898, Jean de Reszke sang Tristan with Madame Nordica as Isolde, when a critic wrote, "We have so often been told that this music cannot be sung, and we have so often heard it shouted and declaimed by Tristans who could not sing, and by Isoldes without a voice, that it was a double joy, not only to hear it sung, but to hear it superbly sung,{229}with all the confidence and apparent ease one is accustomed to in a Schubert song, or a Massenet romance."
Madame Nordica is now in her prime. What new honors she may win we cannot foresee, but she now stands high in the front rank of the great singers of the day. In 1896 she married Mr. Zoltan Doehme. The engagement, which had been once broken off, came to a sudden climax while Nordica was in Indianapolis. Mr. Doehme suddenly appeared, having travelled from Germany, and in a few hours they were married without any display or previous announcement.
Madame Nordica wins many friends by frank, engaging cordiality of manner, while her impulsive nature and enthusiasm help her over many difficulties. One may imagine the consternation caused in the Boston Symphony Orchestra by her startling declaration, at a rehearsal, that they were like a Kalamazoo band. Perhaps the sore is still{230}open, but her winning manners will close it the next time that she comes among them.
One of the most brilliant singers among the number of Americans who have, during the latter half of this century, won distinction on the operatic stage, is Emma Nevada. She is the daughter of a physician named William Wallace Wixom, of Nevada City, Cal.
As a child she was so musical that she sang in public when only three years old. Her mother died when she was quite young, and she received her education at a seminary in Oakland, California. She was now consumed by a desire to go to Europe and make a study of voice, and she became one of a party of girls under the care of a Doctor Eberl, who was to escort them and keep them under his protection in Berlin. When the vessel anchored in the Elbe, the passengers were transferred to a smaller steamer to be landed. Dr. Eberl went on board the little steamer with the rest, walked into the{231}cabin and died. This was a terrible calamity for the party under his care, but Emma Wixom succeeded in finding her way to Berlin, where she sought advice with regard to her voice, and was recommended to go to Marchesi at Vienna.
It is said that on reaching Vienna she found her funds exhausted, but she sought Madame Marchesi and told her her circumstances. Marchesi was so much captivated by her voice and manners that she offered her a home and took care of her until her début.
Through Marchesi's influence an engagement was secured for her in London, where she made her début in "Sonnambula" in 1880. On making her appearance in public, Miss Wixom followed the custom of assuming the name of her native place, and so became Emma Nevada. Concerning her début a critic of the time wrote: "Mapleson has brought a new prima donna, Mlle. Nevada, who is gifted with a very light{232}voice, which is, however, extremely flexible, and is used very effectively in the upper registers. The great merits of her voice lie in her staccato effects, chromatic runs,—which she gives with great purity,—and notes in altissimo. The defects are excessive lightness of tone, lack of good lower notes, and a rather imperfect trill. She won many friends by her refined manners and culture, and if not a great singer she is certainly an agreeable one."
Another admirer tells us about a performance of "Lucia." In the roulade duet between the flute and the voice, after the competition was ended and her full, firm shake, as effortless as the simplest strain, was about half over, she ran off the stage, the shake continuing just as perfect all the way, and as she disappeared left a final note away up among the clouds. But with all this brilliant execution she delighted as much by her sustained notes, which were{233}of beautiful, flutelike quality. She also won the affection and respect of all her associates, by her kindly ways.
A staccato polka was written for Mlle. Nevada, with a view to exhibiting her voice, and her rendering of it was considered a marvellous exhibition of vocal technique.
Although her voice was criticised as being too light for grand opera, Mlle. Nevada was engaged at once to sing in Italy, after which she sang in 1883 at the Opera Comique in Paris, and has had an exceptionally successful career, both in Europe and America, where, in 1885, she was warmly welcomed. In April, 1898, Emma Nevada sang in Paris after a tour through Holland, showing no diminution of her artistic powers.
A little anecdote was told concerning a performance of "Lucia" in Paris, which tends to show the kindly disposition, of the young prima donna. She was, in the mad scene, accompanied in a most delicious manner{234}by the flutist in the orchestra. One was often puzzled during the celebrated duet to determine which were the notes of the flute and which were those of the singer. Now and then a pathetic vibration would reveal the human voice and cause it to rise triumphant above the instrument. She taxed the skill of the musician to the uttermost to follow her through the intricate mazes of sound. When, through nervousness, she for a moment forgot the words of her song, the humble musician came to her rescue and improvised a few sparkling variations to enable her to regain her breath and recollect the lost phrases. At the end of the duet, two powdered footmen advanced from the wings with a gigantic basket of flowers which had been sent to her from Rome by some friends. She selected the finest rose, and, advancing to the footlights, handed it to the leader of the orchestra to be passed on to the flute player. The action was taken{235}with much grace and spontaneity, and brought down a storm of applause, while the poor flutist, unaccustomed to the recognition of his talent, was overcome with joy at such a graceful acknowledgment.
One of her trials took place when the Edgardo (Gayarré), who more than simulated jealous rage, knocked her about in good earnest. His violence made her forget everything but her part, and she had no chance to think of the public while trying to keep her wrists out of his reach.
In 1884 Mlle. Nevada had a disagreement with M. Carvalho about a costume. He offered to cancel her contract, and she joyfully accepted the offer, after which they both had ample time to repent of their hasty action. The following year she married Doctor Raymond Palmer, a surgeon practising in the west of England, a big, bluff, handsome Englishman. She was small, slight, and graceful.{236}
The marriage, which took place in Paris, in October, 1885, was a great social event in the American colony in Paris. Speeches were made by Consul-General Walker and others. Ambroise Thomas, the composer, was there, and called her "Mignon, my dear interpreter," on which she rose from her seat, went to him, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. The wedding presents were many and valuable, and the descriptions thereof filled many columns of the newspapers. Never before had an American prima donna been the centre of so much excitement.
After a short honeymoon, a concert tour in the United States was undertaken. Madame Nevada did not retire from the stage, but after fifteen years she is still as popular as ever, though her voice is too light to be effective in any of the grand operas of modern times.
Unquestionably the greatest artist of her{237}school on the opera stage at the present day is Emma Calvé, whose proper name is Emma Roquer. She was born in 1866, at Décazeville in the Aveyron, her father being a civil engineer, and a member of a good Spanish family. He unfortunately died when his daughter Emma was sixteen years of age, and left his family in poor circumstances. Emma, who was the eldest child, was brought up in a convent, the quiet life of which was very attractive to her, but she was prevented from taking the veil because her mother needed her help at home.
A gentleman from Paris, who heard her sing one day in the convent chapel, urged her mother to send her to Paris for musical training, and much against her own wishes the young singer began the course of training which led to her appearance on the operatic stage.
Life has not been all sunshine for Emma Calvé. She has acquired her art in the{238}school of adversity. Her early stage experiences were not highly successful, though she was reëngaged. Her début was made at Brussels at the Theatre de Monnaie, as Marguerite in "Faust," in 1881. During this season she received a salary of a hundred and forty dollars a month, which was increased the next year to two hundred and forty. In 1884 she went to Paris, where she created the leading part in "Aben Hamet," by Dubois, at the Theatre Italien, and was decidedly successful.
Her teachers up to this time had been a tenor named Puget, and Laborde, but she now began to study under Madame Marchesi, and then followed a successful tour in Italy, during which she gained much by association with the Italian people, and cultivated her dramatic instincts. Here she saw Eleanora Duse, the great actress, whose impersonations made a great impression on the young singer. Calvé's impassioned acting,{239}her magnetic personality, and beautiful voice, won for her the greatest success at La Scala. In 1889 she returned to Paris, and continued her career of hard work and success, but the day of her greatness had not yet come.
In 1891 she created the part of Suzel in "L'Amico Fritz," at Rome, an event which added greatly to her renown, and when "Cavalleria Rusticana" was given in Paris for the first time in 1892, Calvé was selected as the most fitting interpreter of the part of Santuzza. Her success in this part was something phenomenal, and was gained after much study of the story, the close intercourse she had made with the Italian people, and by the aid of some suggestions from Mascagni, the composer.
Her success as Santuzza was repeated in London, and, after ten years of unremitting labor, Calvé found herself acknowledged as a great artist. Notwithstanding the excellent{240}quality of her voice, and her mastery of technique, her victories have been gained by her dramatic impulses.
Her next triumph was achieved in the character of Carmen. In order to study for this part she went to Spain, where she learned the Spanish dances, associated with the Spanish people, and learned as much as possible of the character of the Spanish peasant.
In 1894 she appeared at the Opera Comique in Paris, as Carmen. Her triumph has become a matter of history. It was one of the greatest events in the annals of the lyric stage. Patti had played Carmen, Minnie Hauk had played Carmen, Madame Galli-Marié had played Carmen, and all had achieved success in the part; but CalvéwasCarmen. Her conception of the character was a revelation. Her fascinating gestures, her complete abandon, the grace of her dances, her dazzling beauty, all combined{241}to make her Carmen one of the most wonderful impersonations ever given in opera. She has been criticised as uncertain, as giving different interpretations at different times, but the fact remains that Calvé stands pre-eminent in the world of operatic art. Her swinging, graceful walk, her fascinating half Oriental dances, her gestures, her infectious, reckless mirth, all help to make up the dazzling impersonation with which her name is associated.
Of Calvé's voice little has been said, because, in the perfection of her art, the voice is not obtrusive. It is light and sympathetic, rich in quality, and she never forces it. She frequently misses what many singers would seize as a vocal opportunity, for the sake of dramatic effect, and yet her singing has a marvellous charm. The "Havanaise," as sung by Calvé, is something to remember for a lifetime.
Calvé has a superb, lithe form, and her{242}large, dark eyes and delicately modelled features give her a charming appearance. She is frank, cordial, young-spirited, easy-going, and is intensely admired, both by her associates at the theatre, and in the drawing-room. She is a curious combination of the developed woman and the simple girl. No one can prevent her from saying and doing as she pleases, but her impulses are seldom unkind. She believes thoroughly in spiritualism, theosophy, and astrology. Whenever she sings, she carries with her an amulet from Hindostan, and nothing can induce her to appear without it.
Her first visit to America was in the season of 1893-94, during which she appeared as Mignon, in Boston, for the first time in any part of the world. Her reception during that tour was splendid. She did not again visit America until the season of 1895-96, but she returned the following season, when her appearance as Marguerite in "Faust"{243}was one of the leading events of the season. During her absence she had improved wonderfully in vocal form and appearance, and the critics gave her unstinted praise. Her impersonation of Carmen again created a furore, and, notwithstanding the superb array of talent exhibited during those seasons, "Calvé" was, above all, the subject of interest to opera-goers.
She makes her home in Paris, but her vacations are spent at a picturesque little place called Château Cambrières, situated in the shadow of the Pyrenees. Calvé is not yet at her prime, and with genius such as she possesses it is likely that she will eclipse the achievements of the greatest dramatic singers of the past.
Of the numerous successors of Patti, Madame Melba seems to have more fully met the requirements than any other. In many respects she has exceeded them, for her voice is fuller and more powerful than{244}Patti's ever was, but she has the same easy vocalization and marvellous spontaneity that constituted the great charm in Patti's singing.
Melba is the daughter of a wealthy citizen of Melbourne in Australia, and in that city, from which she takes her stage name, Nellie Mitchell was born in 1865. There was much musical talent in the family, but it was exercised for their own enjoyment only, for they were of Scotch Presbyterian descent, and the idea of the stage was objectionable to them. For this reason, while their daughter was given every advantage in the study of the pianoforte, violin, and harp, her voice was not cultivated. Singing was nevertheless her chief delight, and her great desire was to take lessons.
Melba as Ophelia.
Melba as Ophelia.
In 1883 Miss Mitchell married a Captain Armstrong, but the marriage was not a happy one, and when her father, shortly afterwards, was appointed commissioner from Australia to the Colonial exhibition in London,{245}she went there with him, and soon found herself able to enter upon study for a musical career.
She went to Paris, where at one of Marchesi's receptions she sang and was heard by the manager of the Brussels opera house, who offered her an engagement, and, after only nine months' training, she made her début. She had been previously offered a five years' engagement by Maurice Strakosch, but his death prevented the carrying out of the contract.
It was in 1887 that she made her first appearance in Brussels, and the following year her Parisian début was successfully accomplished. She was rapturously received, and at once found herself classed among the great singers of the century. Her career in Europe and in America was a succession of triumphs. Her voice is rich, sympathetic, and powerful. In flexibility it may be compared with that of Patti, and her trills and{246}cadenzas are accomplished with the ease and brilliancy that belong to naturally gifted singers.
Perhaps the most severe ordeal through which she ever had to pass was in 1893, when she made her début in Milan. The Milanese are very jealous of their independence of opinion, and while they will accept leniently a beginner, the artist whose reputation has been gained out of Italy is likely to fare badly at their hands. When it was announced that Melba was to sing at Milan, a feeling hostile to her at once made itself manifest. When Melba arrived, the musicians and critics did their best to keep out of the way and avoid an introduction. Stories went forth, when rehearsals began, that her voice was like a steam whistle, and everything that could contribute towards a failure was done. Madame Melba's friends endeavored to keep all this from her, and for a time they succeeded, but now she began to be{247}pestered with anonymous letters making threats of various kinds. This so unnerved the prima donna that it was found advisable to acquaint the prefect of the police with the details of the matter, and the intrigue was stopped. On the eventful evening the house was packed, and there was an air of hostile expectancy. The opera was "Lucia." The singer appeared amidst silence which was interrupted now and then by hissing sounds. Hardly had her first notes been heard when it was evident that a change of opinion had taken place in the audience, and the ovation which she received after the mad scene was tremendous. The press extolled her incomparable singing, and her victory was complete.
Melba is not a great actress; she holds her audience entranced with her marvellous vocalization, and her greatest triumphs have always been in those operas which make the smallest demands upon the dramatic powers{248}of the singer. Adelina Patti could not sing in Wagnerian opera, and was too wise to make the attempt. Melba, advised by her friends, once appeared as Brunhilde and was not a success, and she must rest content with being considered the greatestvocalistof the day.
Madame Melba has visited America several times, and during the seasons of 1895-96 and 1896-97 was under the management of Abbey and Grau. After the collapse of that company she became the star of a small opera company travelling as far as the Pacific coast. She makes her home in Paris, where she spends a portion of each year with her son. She is simple and frank in manner, generous by nature, and not given to malice or jealousy.
California added a star to the operatic firmament in Sybil Sanderson, who made her début in 1888, under an assumed name, at The Hague, in "Manon." She was successful,{249}and in a few months came out at the Opera Comique in Paris, creating the rôle of Esclarmonde, which Massenet had written for her, and in which she had the advantage of the composer's instruction.
Probably no opera singer has ever had greater advantages in the preparation for the stage than those which Miss Sanderson enjoyed. She is the daughter of a lawyer of high repute, who became judge of the Supreme Bench, and later chief counsellor of the Union Pacific Railroad. She was taken by her mother, at an early age, to Paris, where she and her sisters received the best education possible. She desired to become a prima donna, and had every assistance that the wealth of her parents could provide.
Her voice is of the kind for which American prima donnas have become celebrated, light, pure, and flexible. Its surpassing excellence lies in the upper register, her G{250}in alt being in itself a phenomenal production. Miss Sanderson is a finished actress, having received the most careful training at the hands of Massenet, who wrote also "Thais" for her. Saint-Saëns entrusted to her the creation of the title rôle of "Phryne," and, in token of his delight at her performance, presented her with a valuable necklace.
Miss Sanderson became very popular in Paris and in St. Petersburg, but met with less favor in London and New York. Once when she sang in London, Van Dyck was the tenor. At the rehearsal he sangsotto vocein order to save himself, and he supposed that she was doing likewise. In the evening, at the performance,—the opera was "Manon," which Miss Sanderson sang in Europe two hundred and fifty times,—she was overwhelmed by the power of his voice. Van Dyck, hearing her small, clear tones, and thinking that she was nervous, came near to offer encouragement, and urged her{251}to "let out your voice." "This is all the voice I have," she replied, and he, still thinking she needed encouragement, sang all the louder. Her great personal charm makes itself felt across the footlights, and while she was heavily handicapped in having to sing with such a tremendous tenor, she was yet able to captivate the audience by her sincerity.
Ella Russell, who made her début in Provo, Italy, is a native of Cleveland, Ohio. Her voice is large, rich, and even, she has an imposing stage presence and much beauty and dignity. She travelled in Europe with success, and finally made her appearance at Covent Garden in 1885.
Another American débutante of 1885 was Marie Engle, a native of Chicago, who at present is one of the opera company at Covent Garden. She has a light voice, high and flexible. Her first appearance was at the Academy of Music in New York, in{252}a concert given by pupils, assisted by members of the Mapleson Opera Company. Colonel Mapleson made her an offer which was accepted, and she went with his company to San Francisco, where she made her début, and afterwards to London, where she has appeared for several seasons.
She has so far followed the conventional domestic life of the prima donna as to marry and secure a divorce. Her husband was Gustav Amburg, a theatrical manager, whom she married in 1889. Her life with him was not happy, and he continually ill-treated her. At last she found that he had a wife living in Germany, and she secured her divorce in 1896.
In the Abbey and Grau opera company of 1894 a singer who attracted considerable attention was Madame Sigrid Arnoldson. She was the daughter of a Swedish tenor and was born in Stockholm. She made her début in grand opera in London, in 1887, but{253}had already become well known at Stockholm, where, in 1885, so great was the desire to hear her that 2,000 people stood in line all night in order to buy tickets. No singer had been so popular since the days of Jenny Lind and Nilsson. She sang "Mignon," and at the conclusion of the performance she was presented by King Oscar with a decoration exactly like those given to Lind and Nilsson. Madame Arnoldson is petite, piquant and picturesque on the stage, and has dark hair and eyes. She is an excellent linguist, speaking four languages.
When she was a small child she would sing like a bird while alone, but could never be induced to sing before strangers. Her father taught her until she was old enough to determine whether she would really have a fine voice. Then she became a pupil of Maurice Strakosch, whose nephew, Robert Fischoff, she married.
The appearance of a new singer from{254}America is now looked upon as nothing unusual, for the list of those who have acquired distinction is already long. Clara Louise Kellogg, Annie Louise Cary, Adelaide Phillips, Marie Litta, Minnie Hauk, Marie Van Zandt, Alwina Valleria, Emma Nevada, Marie Engle, Sybil Sanderson, Lillian Nordica,—yes, the list might easily be increased even without enumerating the large number of tenors and basses. The year 1890 witnessed the début of one who is already acknowledged as a great artist, and who adds to her laurels each season. One who, to a glorious voice and attractive personality, adds dramatic power and intelligence of a high order.
Emma Eames was born in China, but at a very early age was brought by her mother to Boston, where she received her education. Mrs. Eames was a highly accomplished musician, and was her daughter's earliest music teacher. As her voice developed, she began{255}to sing in church choirs and in concerts, where the beauty of her singing attracted a good deal of attention. After she went to Paris, she experienced considerable difficulty in obtaining an engagement. The road to the opera is full of intrigue and machination. Miss Eames made her way to the front by sheer talent. She was first engaged to sing at the Opera Comique, but, for some reason best known to itself, the management repented of having opened its doors to an unknown singer, and gave her no part. She therefore asked that her contract might be annulled, and her request was granted.
A pure, fresh voice, flexible and expressive, remarkably good intonation, and an attractive personality, were the qualities with which Miss Eames ruled the stage. Her fault at first was a degree of calmness in the more vehement scenes. This was noticed particularly in "Faust," and yet her{256}interpretation of the rôle of Marguerite is considered exceptionally fine.
In 1891 she accomplished the difficult feat of singing the part of Elsa in "Lohengrin," after only one rehearsal, but her greatest assumption is that of Elizabeth in "Tannhäuser," in which she appeared in 1895, and gained a reputation for originality of conception which the greatest Wagnerian singers had never developed.
During the season of 1898 in London she gained new laurels. In 1891 Miss Eames caused a sensation by marrying Mr. Julian Wetmore Story, a young artist of much promise. The circumstances of the marriage were rather romantic, and gave rise at the time to a good deal of newspaper comment. Miss Eames, whose mother was somewhat opposed to her marriage, eluded the vigilance of her natural protector, and was quietly married in the old church at Bray, which dates back 1,000 years. This{257}marriage has turned out very happily. Mr. Story has acquired a high reputation as an artist, and by no means occupies the conventional position of "prima donna's husband," but has an individuality of his own. Their home in Paris is the centre of musical and artistic society, and Madame Eames-Story has become a kind of deity amongst American students in Paris.
Only once have there been reports circulated attributing to Madame Eames the feelings of jealousy which seem to permeate the prima donna sisterhood. In Boston there was supposed to have been a coolness between Madame Eames and Calvé, and the latter lady, under the rack of the newspaper reporter, made some disagreeable remarks. Whatever cause there may have been, Madame Eames met Madame Calvé afterwards in Paris, and offered her hand frankly, as if nothing had happened, and it was accepted in the same generous manner.{258}
Madame Eames has several times been obliged in her own interests to maintain an independent position in dealing with managers, and when, after her great American successes, the Abbey, Schoeffel, and Grau Company would not offer her what she considered just terms, she would not retreat from the stand which she had taken, and the company decided to punish her by letting her alone. The result was, that Madame Eames reaped a golden harvest in Europe, and built up a reputation so great that her name is now mentioned as one of the four great sopranos,—Melba, Calvé, Nordica, and Eames.