There was a time early in the century when the voice of Rosamunda
Pisaroni was believed to be the most perfect and delightful, not only
of all contraltos of the age, but to have reached the absolute ideal of
what this voice should be. She even for a time disputed the supremacy
of Henrietta Sontag as the idol of the Paris public, though the latter
great singer possessed the purest of soprano voices, and won no less
by her personal loveliness than by the charm of her singing. Pisaroni
excelled as much in her dramatic power as in the beauty of her voice,
and up to the advent of Marietta Alboni on the stage was unquestionably
without a rival in the estimate of critics as the artist who surpassed
all the traditions of the operatic stage in this peculiar line of
singing. But her memory was dethroned from its pedestal when the
gorgeous Alboni became known to the European public.
Thomas Noon Talfourd applied to a well-known actress of half a century
since the expression that she had "corn, wine, and oil" in her looks.
A similar characterization would well apply both to the appearance
and voice of Mlle. Alboni, when she burst on the European world in the
splendid heyday of her youth and charms--the face, with its broad, sunny
Italian beauty, incapable of frown; the figure, wrought in lines
of voluptuous symmetry, though the _embonpoint_ became finally too
pronounced; the voice, a rich, deep, genuine contralto of more than
two octaves, as sweet as honey, and "with that tremulous quality which
reminds fanciful spectators of the quiver in the air of the calm,
blazing summer's noon"; a voice luscious beyond description. To this
singer has been accorded without dissent the title of the "greatest
contralto of the nineteenth century."
The father of Marietta Alboni was an officer of the customs, who lived
at Casena in the Romagna, and possessed enough income to bestow an
excellent education on all his family. Marietta, born March 10, 1822,
evinced an early passion for music, and a great facility in learning
languages. She was accordingly placed with Signor Bagioli, a local
music-teacher, under whom she so prospered that at eleven she could read
music at sight, and vocalize with considerable fluency. Having studied
her solfeggi with Bagioli, she was transferred to the tuition of Mme.
Bertoletti, at Bologna. Here she had the good fortune to make the
acquaintance of Rossini, in whom she excited interest. Rossini gave
her some lessons, and expressed a high opinion of her prospects. "At
present," he said to some one inquiring about the young girl's talents,
"her voice is like that of an itinerant ballad singer, but the town
will be at her feet before she is a year older." It was chiefly through
Rossini's cordial admiration of her voice that Morelli, one of the
great _entrepreneurs_ of Italy, engaged her for the Teatro Communale
of Bologna. Here she made her first appearance as _Maffeo Orsini_, in
"Lucrezia Borgia," in 1842, Marietta then having reached the age of
twenty. She was then transferred to the La Scala, at Milan, where she
performed with marked success in "La Favorita." Rossini himself signed
her contract, saying, "I am the subscribing witness to your union with
renown. May success and happiness attend the union!" Her engagement was
renewed at the La Scala for four successive seasons. A tempting offer
from Vienna carried her to that musical capital, and during the three
years she remained there she won brilliant laurels and a fame which had
swiftly coursed through Europe; for musical connoisseurs visiting Vienna
carried away with them the most glowing accounts of the new contralto.
Her triumphs were renewed in Russia, Belgium, Holland, and Prussia,
where her glorious voice created a genuine _furore_, not less flattering
to her pride than the excitement produced at an earlier date by Pasta,
Sontag, and Malibran. An interesting proof of her independence and
dignity of character occurred on her first arrival in Berlin, before she
had made her _début_ in that city.
She was asked by an officious friend "if she had waited on M------."
"No! who is this M------," was the reply. "Oh!" answered her inquisitor,
"he is the most influential journalist in Prussia." "Well, how does
this concern me?" "Why," rejoined the other, "if you do not contrive
to insure his favorable report, you are ruined." The young Italian drew
herself up disdainfully. "Indeed!" she said, coldly; "well, let it be as
Heaven directs; but I wish it to be understood that in _my_ breast the
woman is superior to the artist, and, though failure were the result,
I would never degrade myself by purchasing success at so humiliating a
price." The anecdote was repeated in the fashionable saloons of
Berlin, and, so far from injuring her, the noble sentiment of the young
_debutante_ was appreciated. The king invited her to sing at his court,
where she received the well-merited applause of an admiring audience;
and afterward his Majesty bestowed more tangible evidences of his
approbation.
It was not till 1847 that Marietta Alboni appeared in England. Mr.
Beale, the manager of the Royal Italian Opera, the new enterprise which
had just been organized in the revolutionized Covent Garden Theatre,
heard her at Milan and was charmed with her voice. Rumors had reached
England, of course, concerning the beauty of the new singer's voice, but
there was little interest felt when her engagement was announced. The
"Jenny Lind" mania was at its height, and in the company in which
Alboni herself was to sing there were two brilliant stars of the first
luster, Grisi and Persiani. So, when she made her bow to the London
public as _Arsace_, in "Semiramide," the audience gazed at her with a
sort of languid and unexpectant curiosity. But Alboni found herself the
next morning a famous woman. People were astounded by this wonderful
voice, combining luscious sweetness with great volume and capacity. It
was no timid _débutante_, but a finished singer whose voice rolled out
in a swelling flood of melody such as no English opera-house had heard
since the palmiest days of Pisaroni. Musical London was electrified,
and Grisi, who sang in "Semiramide," sulked, because in the great
duet, "Giorno d'orrore," the thunders of applause evidently concerned
themselves with her young rival rather than with herself. Another
convincing proof of her power was that she dared to restore the
beautiful aria "In si barbara," which had been hitherto suppressed for
lack of a contralto of sufficient greatness to give it full effect. In
one night she had established herself as a trump card in the manager's
hand against the rival house, an accession which he so appreciated that,
unsolicited, he raised her salary from five hundred to two thousand
pounds.
Mlle. Alboni's voice covered nearly three octaves, from E flat to C
sharp, with tones uniformly rich, full, mellow, and liquid. The quality
of the voice was perfectly pure and sympathetic, the articulation so
clear and fluent, even in the most difficult and rapid passages, that
it was like a performance on a well-played instrument. The rapidity
and certainty of her execution could only be compared to the dazzling
character of Mme. Persiani's vocalization. Her style and method were
considered models. Although her facility and taste in ornamentation were
of the highest order, Alboni had so much reverence for the intentions of
the composer, that she would rarely add anything to the music which she
interpreted, and even in the operas of Rossini, where most singers
take such extraordinary liberties with the score, it was Alboni's pride
neither to add nor omit a note. Perhaps her audiences most wondered at
her singular ease. An enchanting smile lit up her face as she ran the
most difficult scales, and the extreme feats of musical execution gave
the idea of being spontaneous, not the fruit of art or labor. Her
whole appearance, when she was singing, as was said by one enthusiastic
amateur, conveyed the impression of exquisite music even when the sense
of hearing was stopped.
Alboni's figure, although large, was perfect in symmetry, graceful and
commanding, and her features regularly beautiful, though better fitted
for the expression of comedy than of tragedy. The expression of her
countenance was singularly genial, vivacious, and kindly, and her
eyes, when animated in conversation or in singing, flashed with great
brilliancy. Her smile was bewitching, and her laugh so infectious that
no one could resist its influence.
Fresh triumphs marked Mlle. Alboni's London season to its close. In
"La Donna del Lago," "Lucrezia Borgia," "Maria de Rohan," and "La
Gazza Ladra" she was pronounced inimitable by the London critics. Mme.
Persiani's part in "Il Barbiere" was assumed without rehearsal and at
a moment's notice, and given in a way which satisfied the most exacting
judges. It sparkled from the first to the last note with enchanting
gayety and humor.