DISCOURAGEMENTS THAT LEAD TO A COURT THEATRE
The second year of my first engagement was drawing to a close, and I was
much exercised over the next step. I wanted to try for one of the
_Hoftheaters_, not the very largest and most famous, but a place with a
good orchestra and carefully prepared productions. There seemed to be no
vacancy in just such a theatre, and my agent offered me a contract for a
great _Stadttheater_, probably the first municipal opera house in
Germany. Their contralto, who was a great favourite, had a contract for
a big Royal Opera, and they felt sure she would be engaged. With some
misgivings, I signed the _Vertrag_, and then began the long dickering to
arrange the guest performances which should decide my fate. They finally
asked me to sing _Azucena_ at an afternoon performance. It had taken so
long to find a date which suited us both, that a good deal of time had
elapsed between the signing of the contract and their letter. I, of
course, refused to sing an afternoon performance, and it was finally
arranged that I should sing _Carmen_ on a certain date. There is a sort
of unwritten law that they shall choose one part, and you another, but
it is not always observed. This difficulty over the role should have
warned me that there was something wrong. Such a disagreement is a
pretty good indication that your contract will not be made _perfekt_.
I travelled all night, and arrived to find a rehearsal on the same day
as the performance. It was what is called an _Arrangier Probe fuer den
Gast_, rehearsal without orchestra, of the scenes in which the "Guest"
takes part. All the colleagues were nice to me, but I saw the contralto
watching from the wings, and she gave me a dagger glare; so I thought
that there was "something rotten in the state of Denmark," as she was
supposed to be leaving voluntarily. I sang well that night, and had a
real success with the audience, and with my colleagues. They all said to
me, "Oh, you are certainly engaged after a hit like that." But I felt a
premonition which increased to a certainty when I heard that the
Director had not troubled to watch my performance, but had left the
theatre in the middle of the first act.
I left the next morning, and in a day I received a letter from the
Director saying that I had not had quite enough experience to sing their
repertoire. I learned some time afterwards that their contralto had
sung one of her guest-performances before I went there, had failed to
make a sufficient impression, and had decided to remain where she was.
This had been settled between her and the Direction before I sang at
all; still they had let me sing with no prospect of an engagement, and
allowed it to appear to be my fault that I was not engaged. Legally, of
course, they were quite within their rights, as I could have sued them
if they had not given me a chance to sing the _Gastspiel_ called for in
my contract. But any singer, in such circumstances, would infinitely
prefer to be told the facts. Later, I once begged a director to tell me
if it were really worth while to _gastieren_ in his opera house. He
said, certainly, they were not considering any one else and really
wanted to hear me. I sang there with one of the biggest personal
successes I have ever made, the _Buergermeister_ and all the Committee
(it was a municipal theatre managed by a Committee with the Mayor at the
head) came on the stage to congratulate me, and I had to take nine
curtain calls alone after the last act. I was not engaged, however, and
found out that they had already decided to engage a contralto who had
sung one _Gastspiel_ before me and the other directly afterwards. This
sort of thing happens even to the most experienced native-born singer.
One tenor in D. sang a guest performance _auf Engagement_, and learned
that he was the seventh who had tried for that position in the same
part, and they kept on their original one after all! Of course, these
performances are paid, but the fact that one has sung without being
engaged becomes known everywhere through the weekly theatrical paper,
which gives the repertoire and singers in each opera, of all the
reputable opera houses in Germany. But the fact that the management
never intended to engage you is not generally known. If you have bad
luck like this three or four times, it injures your standing as an
artist. The _Genossenschaft_ or stage society is trying to make each
theatre confine itself to issuing only one contract at a time to fill
any vacancy they may have, which will largely prevent this evil.
A second disappointment followed right on the heels of the first one. I
had a second string to my bow, as there was a vacancy in a very good
_Stadttheater_ for which I was anxious to try. I opened negotiations
with them through my agent, and after the usual delay arranged the
_Gastspiels_. Their contralto was also leaving voluntarily. I was to
sing the two _Erdas_ and _Ulrica_ in the "Masked Ball." When I got
there, I found this changed to the _Erdas_ and _Fricka_, which I had not
sung for a year. Then they demanded _Frau Reich_ in "Merry Wives"
without a rehearsal instead of the "Siegfried" _Erda_. I was very
unhappy, for I knew from this that things were going badly, and that
they had no intention of engaging me, no matter how or what I sang. The
Direction wrote me that, in spite of my great talents, my voice was not
quite large enough for their house. The truth was that their contralto,
who was a Jewess and therefore of the same religion as most of the
committee, had been offered an increase of salary to remain, and had
accepted. The Direction themselves felt badly over the way they had
treated me, and the _Intendant_ telephoned to a _Hoftheater_, not far
off, where he knew there was going to be a vacancy, to recommend me to
their Director in the highest terms.
This was Darmstadt, the capital of a small principality, famous for its
opera house, which had existed for a hundred years. It is a town of
about 100,000 inhabitants, and the residence of the reigning Grand Duke,
Ernst Ludwig. His mother had been the Princess Alice of England,
daughter of Queen Victoria. He and his second wife, Eleanore, lived with
their two little sons at the palace Princess Alice's money had built for
them. It was really not a palace at all, but a large, roomy, comfortable
house. His beautiful sister, Alexandra, married the Czar of Russia;
another sister married the Kaiser's brother, Prince Henry of Prussia.
The opera house, called _Hoftheater_, stood high in the second class. In
the first class are Berlin, Vienna, Dresden and Muenich, with possibly
Hamburg. Then come Cologne, Frankfurt and Leipsic, and the _Hoftheaters_
Hanover, Stuttgart, Mannheim, Wiesbaden, Darmstadt, etc. In the third
class are the smaller _Hoftheaters_ like Coburg, and the _Stadttheaters_
like Mainz. In the fourth, are the smallest _Stadttheaters_, and last of
all come the little towns which have _Monatsoper_, or a one month season
of opera in the year, after the seven month theatres are closed. The
first class houses are open all the year, with a four or six weeks'
vacation for the singers at different times, so that they shall not all
be away together. The next class has a nine months' season, but in the
_Hoftheaters_ the salary is paid in monthly instalments for twelve
months in the year.
I took the train for the town, not caring much whether they wanted me or
not. Perhaps that was the right attitude, for after hearing one song
with piano accompaniment, the _Intendant_ offered me a five-year
contract. I asked them to make it three; the town seemed so small and
quiet that I did not like the sound of five years in it. The salary was
the highest they had ever paid a contralto. The Director said at once,
"How much did they offer you in----?" and agreed to pay me only 500
marks a year less. I arranged to _gastieren_ very soon in _Carmen_,
with _Nancy_ and one other part to follow. I sang only the _Carmen_ on
trial, however, as the Grand Duke, who had come in especially from his
country place to hear me, engaged me personally after the first act. I
had a wonderful and rare chance to "be grand" when the Director told me
this. He asked me if I would be willing to sing my other _Gastspiel_ of
_Nancy_. I replied loftily that I really could not do so, as I must
return to Paris.
Six days before the opening of the season, according to contract, I
arrived with my sister in the town which was to be my home for the next
three years. It is surrounded by forests and looked very pretty; but oh!
so quiet! The _Hoftheater_ stands in a park, and is a classic-looking
structure seating 1,400 persons. It has been there for a hundred years,
and runs by clockwork. A building behind it, more than half as large as
the theatre itself, contains the ballet school and scene-painting lofts
and a complete dressmaking and tailoring establishment, with the
wardrobe mistress and master at the head, where all costumes are made.
They are also kept here, and the collection is a very complete one, with
endless sets of uniforms, armour and historical costumes of all kinds.
Men's dress is supplied; women who have a salary of more than 3600 marks
($900) are supposed to supply their own, but if you are nice to the
wardrobe mistress she will usually contrive to find what you want,
though you must get permission from the Direction to wear it. Excellent
dressers are provided for the principals, and a hair-dresser to put on
your wig. There is a small charge if it requires dressing. The theatre
pays these people, but you are supposed to tip them on New Year's Day,
also the stage doorkeeper, the man who brings you the scores of your
parts, and any one else you like, though only the first four expect it;
and 10 marks ($2.50) is a liberal tip. You are expected to keep your
costumes at home, and send them over in a basket-trunk on the morning of
the performance for your dresser to unpack, press and hang up. You pay a
man $1.00 a month to do this, though many singers send their servant.
There are four Kapellmeisters, the first one who rejoiced in the title
of _Hofrat_ (Court councillor), the second, and third, and a fourth for
the chorus. Felix Weingartner is now first conductor there. The
orchestra consists of sixty musicians, and is really good. They have
played together so long, that they can play almost anything, and they
excel in Mozart, whom, with Wagner, they adore, while they look with
condescension upon the works of Puccini. The scenery of this particular
opera house used to be famous. They were the first to have moons which
really rose about as slowly as the real one, and they are still unique
in possessing a wonderful clock-work sun, which contracts as it rises.
The _Ring_ dramas, with their complicated settings, are given without a
single hitch; the "Magic Flute" is presented with some nineteen scenes,
all dark changes; and this is one of the four theatres in the world
where Goethe's "Faust" is given entire, on four consecutive evenings.
The artist, Kempin, who is responsible for all new scenery, is a man of
considerable reputation, outside the town as well as in it, as a
painter. He does excellent things when he is allowed a free hand, as he
inclines very strongly toward modern _styliziert_ (conventionalized)
scenery _a la Reinhardt_. His production of "La Belle Helene" was worth
seeing, and his "_Gretchen's_ room" in "Faust" is one of the most
charming stage settings I have ever seen.
There is a large, thoroughly trained chorus, each with a repertoire of
over fifty operas, whose members are paid, as a rule, about 125 marks a
month ($26), everything but modern dress supplied. None receives more,
except those who fill small "speaking parts." In a ballet of forty the
dancers receive from 75 to 80 marks apiece with all costumes furnished.
Knowing these figures, as I do, it is hard for me to credit those I once
saw quoted in a music journal from a German book on the subject. The
author stated that the ballet girls in Hanover receive only 10 marks
($2.50) a month. Hanover, being a larger city and affiliated with Berlin
pays better salaries than this opera house of which I am writing. He
also said that the "leading lady" in Eisenach had only 15 marks a month!
As I, as a beginner and foreigner, in Metz, received $35 a month, I
cannot but think that he had forgotten to add the cipher and meant 150
marks! The costume expenses that he spoke of, are certainly a great tax
upon the German _actresses_ in smaller theatres; but I think I have
shown how greatly the wardrobe of a _singer_ in such a theatre may be
simplified, especially by a thrifty German woman, up to all the dodges
of different pairs of sleeves for the same gown. After all, costume
expenses are as high or as low as one makes them. None of our American
girls thinks of becoming an actress on the European stage, so these
costume expenses need not trouble her personally, and the majority of
German actresses manage to live on their earnings. The principals in my
theatre received from $900 to $3500 a year, which last named sum is paid
to the _Heldentenor_, and on which he is rich. The rent of a good flat
is 700-800 marks a year ($180-$200). I paid 1100 marks ($275) for mine
because it was situated on the best street, near the palace. It
contained four rooms, with kitchen, bath, maid's room and two balconies.
A good general servant receives 25 marks a month ($6.24). Her wages and
everything about her are regulated by police inspection. The _Polizei_,
in fact, regulates the whole town, even the closing of the theatre,
which can only be shut in case of destruction by fire, serious epidemic
or martial law.
The same system of alternating plays with opera obtains in all but the
very largest German cities. We had some splendid actors in our cast,
some of whom are now in leading positions in the greatest theatres. The
repertoire, for a town of 100,000 people, is extraordinary. The German
classics, Goethe and Schiller, alternate with Shakespeare; the modern
poetic dramas, the plays of Hebbel, Grillpartzer, the sparkling comedies
of Schnitzler are interchanged with translations of Ibsen, Bernard Shaw,
Pinero, etc. Sudermann and Hauptmann may follow the latest French salon
comedy, or a new farce; and the good old ones that everybody knows like
"Kyritz Pyritz," and "Charley's Aunt" are not allowed to die. Then there
are peasant plays in dialect and fairy plays for the children at
Christmas.