LEAVING BERLIN
After a short season in Stockholm, where once more I had the pleasure of
singing before dear old King Oscar, I found myself in Berlin. One
morning my maid brought me this telephone message:--
Heinrich Conried of New York is at the Hotel Bristol. Will Miss
Farrar please come down and sing for him?
I promptly had the maid telephone carefully as follows:--
Miss Farrar is at her home, and, if Herr Conried wishes to call,
she will be glad to see him.
Later that same day Herr Conried called. He was scouting Europe for
artists for the Metropolitan, and he had been advised by Maurice Grau to
keep a watchful eye upon my career.
[Illustration: WOLF-FERRARI
SIGNED photo: Alla stupenda "Rosaura"
Geraldine Farrar
con animo grato
Wolf-Ferrari
1912
Venezia.]
We talked of his plans for New York, and Herr Conried expressed a wish
to have me return to my native land. Of course, from the day I had first
dreamed of singing in grand opera, the Metropolitan had been my ultimate
goal, but now that the moment for considering so important a step had
come I was very wary. Knowing that New York was loyal to some of the
older artists still under contract, I wanted to protect my interests as
best I could while working up my career in America. I do not believe
that Mr. Conried was then very anxious to have me come; certainly he was
much taken aback when I stated my ideas of the contract. They were so
entirely at divergence with his that the interview came to nothing, and
he departed. I was neither glad nor sorry. I telegraphed Maurice Grau
the result, to which he laconically replied:--
Don't worry, he'll be back.
Having been many years in that same position, _vis-a-vis_ prima donnas,
Maurice Grau well knew whereof he spoke, for indeed Mr. Conried did
"come back," finding me on my vacation in Franzensbad, where I had been
very busily concerned looking up all manner of contracts for America.
After much obstinacy on my part and reiteration on his, we managed to
close the contract. Besides my guaranteed operatic performances I was to
sing in no private houses unless agreeable to me and only for special
compensation; and I incorporated every possible clause imaginable about
dressing-rooms, drawing-rooms on trains, carriages, railroad fares for
my mother and my maids on tour, and in fact every conceivable concession
which the most arrogant prima donna might demand. Not that I really
cared about such items of expense, but I was determined to enter the
Metropolitan _en dignite_, and I did.
The contract was not to take effect until a year later, in November,
1906. Meanwhile, I was to conclude another season in Berlin, fulfill all
European contracts in the spring, and then secure leave of absence from
the Kaiser for three years. It was arranged, however, that I should
always be subject to the demands of the Royal Opera, and one of the
clauses of the Conried contract was that, if at any time I was called
back to appear in Berlin, my contract would be indefinitely postponed
until such time as I could fulfill it without conflicting with my Berlin
contract.
[Illustration: LEAVING BERLIN]
That concluding season in Berlin was a constant series of farewells. The
news had been made public that I was to sing in America, and that I
would be absent for at least a year. One of the pleasant memories of
that season is a farewell concert at the Marmor Palace at Potsdam for
the Crown Prince and Princess, when they presented to me a diamond
pendant made up of the letters "W-C" interwoven--Wilhelm and Cecile. The
Crown Princess Cecile, gracious, charming, young, adored in Berlin and
throughout Germany, was greatly interested in charities, and during my
last season in Berlin I assisted her in organizing the programmes for
many charity concerts.
At last came the eventful day when I was to leave the country of my
adoption for the land of my nativity. I had announced an "Abschied," or
"Farewell Concert," in Philharmonic Hall, Berlin, the first week in
October, 1906. We charged five dollars a seat, and could have sold the
house twice over. One half the gross receipts went to a hospital kitchen
founded by my dear Frau von Rath, who had been so kind to me; and the
other half went to the fund of the Crown Princess's pet charity for
crippled children. It was a wonderful and representative audience, in
which royalty was conspicuously present.
Next day we drove through crowds in the streets of Berlin, _en route_ to
the station for Bremerhaven, from which we sailed on the Kaiser Wilhelm
II, my mother, father, and I. Quite a contrast to our last voyage
together on the cattle ship from Boston! But now we were homeward bound.
I was returning to the land of my birth after an absence of nearly
seven years, to sing in the greatest temple of music in the western
world. It represented the near approach of the greatest of my dreams.
But, could I have foreseen all the difficulties that were to come to me,
I wonder if I would have been so buoyant and care-free as the great ship
pounded her way westward through the October seas!