I am confident you will pardon the liberty taken in thus addressing
you, when I tell you of my deep interest in you, and of my pleasure
in listening to the great powers of voice which God has given you.
My father is Gerrit Smith--being his daughter, how can I but hope
that your efforts may be crowned with the most brilliant success.
I have a few suggestions to make, respecting your dress. You were
dressed with great modesty and with much simplicity; still there
are some things it would be well for you to lay aside. Wear nothing
in your hair, unless it be a cluster of white flowers in the back;
never wear _coloured_ flowers, nor flowing ribbons. Let your dress
be a plain black silk, high at the back of the neck, and open in
front about half way to the waist: under this, wear a square of
lace, tarltan, or muslin, doubled and laid in folds to cross over
the breast. Wear muslin under sleeves, and _white kid
gloves--always_. Dress very loosely. I would advise no whalebones,
(but perhaps you are not prepared for that reform.) In case you
should lay them aside, a sacque of the same material as the dress
would be very pretty to conceal the figure. If you tire of the
black silk, a steel colour would be a good change--but these two
are preferable to all others. Your pocket handkerchief should be
unfolded and somewhat tumbled, not held by a point in the centre;
perhaps it would be better to have it in your pocket, quite out of
sight--the piece of music is enough for the hands. I rejoice in the
dignity of your deportment and in the good hours you keep. I have
said this much in relation to your dress, because I know how
important it is that, in the midst of all the prejudice against
those of your colour, that your appearance should be _strikingly
genteel_.
A word or two about your singing: "Native Scenes" was particularly
sweet, because sung with feeling. Let it be your aim to enter with
your whole soul into the spirit of your words. In the "Last Rose of
Summer," you sang "_senseless_" for _scentless_--it may have been
owing to a printer's mistake--"_scentless_" is the true word. With
sincere desires for your highest good, believe me,
Your friend, E. S. M.
Albany, Jan. 19, 1852--Daily State Register.
THE BLACK SWAN'S CONCERT.--Miss Greenfield made her debut in this City
on Saturday evening, before a large and brilliant audience, in the
lecture room of the Young Men's Association. The concert was a complete
triumph for her; won, too, from a discriminating auditory, not likely to
be caught with chaff, and none too willing to suffer admiration to get
the better of prejudice. Her singing more than met the expectations of
her hearers, and elicited the heartiest applause, and frequent
_encores_. She possesses a truly wonderful voice, and considering the
poverty of her advantages, she uses it with surprising taste and effect.
In sweetness, power, compass and flexibility, it nearly equals any of
the foreign vocalists who have visited our country; and it needs only
the training and education theirs have received, to outstrip them all.
The compass of her marvellous voice embraces twenty-seven notes,
reaching from the sonorous bass of a barytone, to a few notes above even
Jenny Lind's highest. The defects which the critic cannot fail to detect
in her singing, are not from want of voice or power of lung, but want of
training alone. If her present tour proves successful, as it now bids
fair to, she will put herself under the charge of the best masters of
singing in Europe; and with her enthusiasm and perseverance, which
belong to genius, she cannot fail to ultimately triumph over all
obstacles, and even conquer the prejudice of colour--perhaps the most
formidable one in her path.
She plays with ability upon the piano, harp and guitar. In her
deportment she bears herself well, and we are told converses with much
intelligence. We noticed among the audience Gov. Hunt and his family,
both Houses of the Legislature, State officers, and a large number of
our leading citizens. All came away astonished and delighted.