MASTER AND MAN--"DON GIOVANNI" CENTENARY--MOZART AND
PARNELL--BURSTING OF "GILDA"--COLONEL STRACEY AND THE DEMONS--THE
HAWK'S MOUNTAIN FLIGHT--AMBITIOUS STUDENTS AND INDIGENT
PROFESSORS--A SCHOOL FOR OPERA--ANGLICIZED FOREIGNERS--ITALIANIZED
ENGLISHMEN.
Although an operatic impresario cannot reasonably count on making his
own fortune, it is often a source of satisfaction to him to reflect that
he in his lavish expenditure makes the fortune of singers, officials,
and various people in his service. At the time when I was in my greatest
trouble through the disappointments I had to put up with from some of my
leading singers, I heard that an enterprising Italian who had been
employed by me for many years had taken the New York Academy of Music
for a brief season, and that he was actually performing the duties of
manager.
Angelo was, or rather is, a very remarkable man. I engaged him many
years ago as my servant at 10s. a week, and he is now said to be in
possession of some thousands or even tens of thousands of pounds, which
he gained while in my service by turning his opportunities and his
talents to ingenious account. Angelo is well known in the United States,
chiefly by the unwashed condition of his linen. Reversing the custom by
which, in England and America, gentlemen who cannot trust their memory
to keep appointments write with a black pencil the time and place on one
of their wrist-bands, Angelo used to write on his wrist-band, as nearly
as possible black, with a piece of white chalk which, primarily with a
view to billiards, he used to carry in his pocket. I mention this as an
example of his proneness to imitation, and also of his economical
habits.
How, it will be asked, did he amass a fortune in my service when I was
paying him only at the rate of 10s. a week?
He began by starting a _claque_ of which he constituted himself chief,
and which was at the service of any of my singers who chose to pay for
it. He was always ready, moreover, to act as interpreter. There was no
language which he did not speak in courier fashion more or less well;
and as in a modern operatic Company artists from such outlandish
countries as Spain and Russia as well as from Italy, France, and Germany
are to be found, Angelo's talents were often called into requisition by
singers who did not understand one another and who were altogether
ignorant of English.
Angelo knew where to buy cheap cigars, and he used to make the members
of my Company buy them as dear ones. He speculated, moreover, largely
and advantageously in vermuth, which he sold in the United States for at
least a dollar a bottle more than he had paid for it in Italy. Campanini
acted as his friend and accomplice in these _vermuth_ sales. Entering a
bar, in no matter what American city, the great tenor would call for a
glass of _vermuth_. "Pah!" he would exclaim when he had tasted what the
bar-keeper had offered him. Then, after making many wry faces, he spat
out the liquor which had so grievously offended him.
"Where did you get this horrible stuff?" he would then inquire.
"_Vermuth?_ It is not _vermuth_ at all. What did the rascal who sold it
to you charge for it?"
"Three dollars a bottle."
"And here is a gentleman," pointing to Angelo, "who has genuine
_vermuth_ of the finest quality and will sell you as much as you like
for two dollars a bottle."
The bar-keeper thought, with reason, that an eminent Italian tenor like
Campanini must know good _vermuth_ from bad, and at once bought from
Angelo a case or two of the true _vermuth di Torino_.
Angelo, in addition to his other talents, is a first-rate cook, and in
the preparation of certain Italian dishes, dear to those born in the
"land of song," has scarcely an equal. He was too important a personage
to act as cook to any one singer; but on the Atlantic passage he would
take a pound a-head from some thirty different vocalists in order to see
that each of them was provided with Italian cookery during the voyage.
Angelo made most of his money, however, by speculating in opera tickets
during my Patti seasons. He had, of course, peculiar facilities for
getting (unknown to me) almost as many tickets as he wanted at
box-office prices; and he could count as a matter of certainty on
selling them at enormous premiums--often as much as two or three pounds
a-piece.
During the retreat from Frisco, seeing that there would be a scarcity of
food along the line, he laid in a stock of provisions, which he retailed
at enormous profits.
Angelo had made himself a prominent figure in connection with my
Company, and was frequently spoken of in the newspapers. On our arrival
at New York he waited upon the Secretary of the Academy, as I found out
some time afterwards, and actually took the building from him for a
season of opera, which was to begin in the following October. He
accompanied us, however, to London as though nothing had happened. He
returned at the appointed time to America, taking with him a company
which included Mdme. Valda, Giannini, and others. When his prospectus
came out I noticed two announcements which struck me as strange in
connection with his costumes and music. The former, said the prospectus,
had been "lent" by Zamperoni, the latter by Ricordi and Mdme. Lucca.
They would not, then, be liable to seizure. He had taken the precaution
to secure what he considered a proper reception at New York. Thus he had
hired a steam tug with a brass band on board. This excited the mirth of
all the New York journals.
When the season began Angelo on the opening night occupied my box,
wearing for the first time in his life a white shirt; and it was noticed
that when he made memoranda on his cuffs he now did so with a black lead
pencil.
After the first week, the salaries having become due, the theatre
closed, and the would-be impresario found himself surrounded in his
hotel by infuriated choristers, who, with drawn stilettos presented,
formed a veritable _chevaux de frise_ in front of him. Angelo appeared
himself at the second floor window in order to hold parley with his
aggressors at a safe distance, and for some days he remained confined to
his hotel.
A public subscription was got up for the choristers to enable them to
return to Europe, and Angelo himself now accepted an appointment as
interpreter in Castle Garden, where he had to receive the emigrants,
make known their wants, and give them instructions in whatever happened
to be their native tongue; but he would do nothing for them unless they
began by buying a certain number of his detestable but high-priced
cigars. Even Dr. Gardini, the husband of the distinguished prima donna,
Mdme. Gerster, was actually afraid in Angelo's presence to smoke any
cigars but his. I remember on one occasion giving Dr. Gardini an Havanna
of the finest brand. He knew that Angelo, who was acting at the time as
_chef de claque_ to Mdme. Gerster, would, if he came in, recognize at
once its superior flavour; and when the door-keeper suddenly entered to
tell me that Angelo wished to speak to me for a moment, the doctor
thought it politic to throw aside the cigar I had given him and replace
it by one of Angelo's vile weeds.
As to Angelo's exact pecuniary position at this moment it is difficult
to speak with certainty. Some say that he is without a shilling, and my
baritone, Signor de Anna, declares that he accommodated him with that
sum a few weeks ago when he was passing through New York. According to
other accounts he is a millionaire, with his millions safely invested in
Italian securities.
To return to my own managerial business. I now fitted out an expedition
for the following October, when I proposed to make an operatic tour
throughout Great Britain and Ireland. Some few days before my departure
I was much astonished at an embargo being laid on all my costumes and
music under a bill of sale, voluntarily given by me to two friends, in
order to secure a sum which they had advanced as subscribers for the
previous season; which, but for Mdme. Patti's refusal to sing, would
have been completed. I thought that, under the circumstances, my friends
might have waited until after the tour had started. This incident
prevented me from getting away at the appointed time, and I was delayed
in London for nearly a week with the whole of my artists and chorus on
my hands. I, however, got over this difficulty, and left for Ireland
with a most attractive Company.
We opened in Dublin about the middle of October with an excellent
performance of _Carmen_; Minnie Hauk not having appeared there since ten
years previously on our way to America for our first visit, when Bizet's
opera was totally unknown. On this occasion we were rewarded with a very
crowded audience. Mdme. Rolla made her _debut_ as "Michaela," in which
she met with great success; Del Puente, of course, being the "Toreador."
On the following night Mdlle. Dotti appeared as "Leonora" in
_Trovatore_, when the house was again crowded. The third night was
devoted to the _Barbiere_, for which I expected Mdlle. Arnoldson, who
did not turn up. The part was, therefore, undertaken by Mdme. Rolla, who
met with great success. Some eight months previously it had been agreed
with Ravelli, prior to his departure for South America, that he should
return to me in Ireland for this engagement, and I must give him credit
this time for having kept his word. He had been travelling continuously
for over seven weeks, and, landing at Bordeaux, had to work his way on
to Dublin, where he joined the Company. There was now no murderous
feeling between him and Minnie Hauk; they seemed to be the best of
friends. I felt sure, however, that this reconciliation would be only
temporary. I remained in Dublin a fortnight, during which time I
produced _Le Nozze di Figaro_, and _Ernani_, with Mdme. Rolla's
excellent impersonation of "Elvira" and Signor De Anna's superb
rendering of "Carlo V." This was followed by _Don Giovanni_, _Faust_,
_Rigoletto_, _Il Flauto Magico_, in which the whole Company took part,
the exceptionally difficult _role_ of the "Queen of Night" being
undertaken with great effect by Mdlle. Marie Decca. I afterwards left
for Cork, where the Company met with great artistic success, the Press
notices being more favourable than they had ever been on previous
visits.
On the 29th October, being the centenary of Mozart's _Don Giovanni_, I
was determined to celebrate the event with due circumstance; and the
great opera was given with the following very efficient cast:--"Donna
Anna," Mdlle. Louise Dotti; "Donna Elvira," Mdme. Rolla; "Zerlina,"
Mdme. Minnie Hauk; "Don Ottavio," Signor Ravelli; "Leporello," Signor
Caracciolo; "Il Commendatore," M. Abramoff; "Masetto," Signor Rinaldini;
and "Don Giovanni," Signor Padilla; conductor, Signor Arditi.
I had arranged at the close of the first act to place a bust of Mozart
on the stage, executing at the same time the grand chorus of the _Magic
Flute_ while the High Sheriff of the County crowned the immortal
composer. Alas! there was no bust of Mozart to be obtained. But the
property-man reported that he had one of Parnell, which, by the removal
of the beard and some other manipulation, could be made to resemble
Mozart. The High Sheriff having declined to perform the ceremony in
connection with the bust of Parnell, the Mayor of Cork immediately
volunteered to replace him. The public soon got wind of what was going
on; and, fearing a popular commotion--as this very day the city had been
proclaimed in consequence of the Land League meetings--I had to content
myself with performing the opera as Mozart originally intended.
The part of the dissolute "Don" was superbly rendered by Signor Padilla,
the eminent Spanish baritone, whose appearance reminded me forcibly of
Mario. He had just returned from Prague, where Mozart's centenary had
been duly celebrated, the whole of the arrangements having been left in
his hands. He told me many interesting stories concerning his researches
in the museums and libraries that had been placed by the Government at
his disposal during his stay there, which extended over some five or six
weeks. He succeeded in ascertaining the correct date of the original
production of _Don Giovanni_ at Prague. The authorities in Paris
insisted that it had been first performed on the 27th October, 1787, and
they even went so far as to regulate their centenary performance by that
day. Signor Padilla, however, obtained the original play-bill from the
National Library, in which it was clearly set forth that _Il Don
Giovanni_, _Ossia_, _Il Dissoluto Punito_ was first produced on the 29th
day of October, 1787.
In my representation the absurd scene of "Don Giovanni" surrounded by a
lot of stage demons flashing their torches of resin all over him was, of
course, omitted. He simply went below in the hands of the Uomo di
Pietra.
This reminds me of an amateur operatic performance we once had at
Woolwich, in which I took part for the benefit of some regimental
charities.
I was dining at my Club with some friends when the performance was first
suggested. It was decided to give _Rigoletto_, in which I was asked to
undertake the part of the Duke; this to be followed by the last act of
_Don Giovanni_.
I, of course, said "Yes," as I usually do to everything; and before the
dinner was over so many bets had been made on the question whether or
not I would appear as the "Duke of Mantua" that, on making up my book,
I found I must either play the arduous part or pay some L300 or L400. I
determined on the former course.
I, of course, kept the matter a profound secret from all connected with
my theatre. On the night of the performance, on the rising of the
curtain, I was horrified in the midst of my first aria at seeing Mdme.
Titiens, Mdme. Trebelli, Sir Michael Costa, and Adelina Patti amongst
the audience; and it required some nerve to pull myself together and
continue the part. I succeeded, however, in obtaining the customary
encore for the "La donna e mobile" and for the quartett; and on the
whole I believe I acquitted myself well. So, at least, said the notices
which, to my astonishment, appeared next morning in the daily papers.
A catastrophe occurred at the close of the last scene, where the late
Colonel Goodenough, in the character of "Rigoletto," had to mourn over
the corpse of the murdered "Gilda." At the rehearsal a man had been
placed in the sack, but he was too heavy to be dragged out; and, as
Colonel Goodenough was very nervous, the property-man made the sack
lighter by placing inside some straw and two large bladders full of air.
Just as the curtain was descending Goodenough, who was a very heavy man,
threw himself for the final lament on to the corpse of his daughter,
when a loud explosion took place, one of the bladders having burst.
The performance concluded with the last act of _Don Giovanni_, in which
Colonel Stracey undertook the part of the dissolute "Don." The demons
were gunners from the Royal Artillery. It was most ludicrous, every time
the Colonel gave the slightest stage direction as to where these men
were to go and when they were to take hold of him and carry him down, to
see the eight demons all give the military salute at the same time.
Stracey told them not to salute him, on which they said "No, Colonel!"
and gave another salute.
On leaving Cork we had to return to Dublin, where, in consequence of
enormous success, we were called upon to give an extra week. We finished
up on the following Saturday evening with a performance of Wallace's
_Maritana_, in the Italian language, to a house literally packed to the
very roof. Ravelli sang the part of "Don Caesar;" and being encored in
"Let me like a soldier fall," gave it the second time in English.
We afterwards went to Liverpool, when suddenly Mdme. Minnie Hauk,
without a moment's warning, left the Company. Two days afterwards I
received a medical certificate from Dr. Weber, to the effect that the
lady was in a precarious state of health, and utterly voiceless, so that
it was necessary for her to go to a certain mountain in Switzerland to
recover her health. It was the month of December.
I afterwards ascertained that _en route_ she had sung at three concerts
for her own benefit.
We next visited Nottingham, Manchester, Birmingham, Bristol, Brighton,
etc., concluding at the last-named town just before Christmas with a
memorable performance of _Maritana_, when the curtain had to be raised
no less than five times.
On the termination of the season we returned to London, where the
Company disbanded for the holidays, my Italian chorus being now sent
back to Italy.
It costs L8 to get an Italian chorus singer from his native land to
England; and this seems money wasted when one reflects that just as good
voices are to be found in this country as in Italy. If such a thing as a
permanent Opera could be established in London arrangements might be
made by which it would look for its chorus to one or more of our
numerous musical academies, which at present seem to exist and to be
multiplied solely to deluge the country with music teachers, whose keen
competition lessens daily the value of their services. When the Royal
Academy of Music was established the Earl of Westmorland, who presided
at the first meeting of the promoters, said, in reference to the
expected advantages of such an institution, that he hoped to see the day
when music lessons would be given in England at the rate of 6d. an hour.
A nice time music teachers will have when ten hours' work a day will
give them an income of 30s. a week! But what, if not music teachers, are
the pupils of our four leading musical academies to become? The Royal
Academy of Music, the Royal College of Music, the Guildhall School of
Music, and Dr. Wylde's London Academy of Music must send out annually
some thousand or two well-taught musicians who have nothing to turn to
but teaching.
Except among the richer classes almost everyone who studies music ends
by teaching music to someone else. Such is his fate whatever may have
been his ambition. What, except a music teacher, or an orchestral
player, or, by rare good luck, a concert singer, is he or she to become?
In other countries there is an established musical theatre with which
the recognized Academy of Music is in connection, and which in some
measure depends upon it as upon a feeder. The students of the Paris
Conservatoire sing in the chorus of the Grand Opera; and those students
who gain prizes, or otherwise distinguish themselves, obtain an
appearance, as a matter of course, at the great Lyrical Theatre, for
which they may be said to have been specially trained. In England,
however, we occupy ourselves exclusively with the teaching of music,
never in any manner dealing with the question what the students are to
do when their period of study is at an end. In other countries there is
together with one musical academy one Opera-house. Here we have four
musical academies and not one permanent operatic establishment.
Such is the national mania for establishing schools of music that a few
years ago some L200,000 was collected for establishing a new musical
academy with, for the most part, the same professors as those already
employed at existing academies; and an attempt, moreover, was made to
shelve Sir Arthur Sullivan (who may yet, it is to be hoped, compose an
opera), by placing him at the head of this quite superfluous
establishment. More recently Sir Arthur refused to allow himself to be
shackled in the manner contemplated; and not many years afterwards
another composer, Mr. A. C. Mackenzie, who has already proved himself
capable of writing fine dramatic music, was put on the retired list in
similar fashion. Mozart, Rossini, Auber, Bellini, Verdi studied at no
academy; and my friend Verdi was rejected from the Conservatorio of
Milan as incapable of passing the entrance examination. We, however,
hope everything from music schools though we have nothing to offer our
composers or our singers when, in a theoretical sort of way, they have
once been formed. The money wasted in establishing the Royal College of
Music might have been usefully spent in founding a permanent lyrical
theatre for which our young composers might have worked, on whose
boards our young vocalists might have sung. Thus only, by practice in
presence of the public, can composers and singers perfect themselves in
their difficult art. It should be remembered too that for operatic music
the best school is an operatic establishment where fine performances can
be heard.
The unhappy students, meanwhile, receive but small benefit from their
tuition, seeing that they are simply turned out to swell the ranks of
indigent teachers. No capital in Europe has anything like so many music
schools as London, and no capital in Europe is so entirely without the
means of offering suitable work to students who have once qualified
themselves for performing it. We have some twenty or thirty theatres in
London without one school of acting; which is possibly a mistake. But it
is not such a bad mistake as to have four large music schools without
one lyrical theatre. Nothing can be more preposterous. Yet there is at
this moment more chance of a fifth music school being established than
of an Opera-house being founded at which the shoals of composers and
vocalists shot out every year would have an opportunity of pursuing
their profession.
Sixty years ago, since which time we are supposed to have made progress
in musical as in other matters, the Royal Academy of Music, which has
produced so many excellent singers, instrumentalists, and composers,
was intimately connected with the King's Theatre. Its students sang in
the Opera chorus, and every fortnight gave performances of their own, at
which leading vocalists, choristers, and orchestra were exclusively from
the Academy. These performances took place in the King's Concert Room, a
sort of _annexe_ to the theatre in which the performances of Italian
Opera were given.
Nor in those days were singers who happened to be English ashamed to
call themselves by their own names. The present custom of Italianizing
English names as the only process by which they can be made fit for
presentation to the public is much more modern than is generally known.
Even in our own time two admirable vocalists, Mr. Sims Reeves and Mr.
Santley, have had the manliness to reject all suggestions for
Italianizing their names. The foreign musicians, often of the highest
eminence, who have settled amongst us, seem, on the other hand, to have
taken a pride in passing themselves off as Englishmen. Handel is always
called in the bills of the period Mr. Handel; Costa (until he was
knighted) was always Mr. Costa; Halle (until he also was knighted) Mr.
Halle; Benedict (until the moment when he was empowered to adopt the
"Sir"), Mr. Benedict; Herren Karl Rosa, August Manns, Alberto Randegger,
Wilhelm Ganz, and Wilhelm Kuhe (whose knighthood has not yet reached
them), are Mr. Carl Rosa, Mr. Manns, Mr. Randegger, Mr. Ganz, and Mr.
Kuhe. It cannot be a disgrace even for a musician to be an Englishman,
or so many foreign musicians of eminence would not so readily have
called themselves "Mr."
An English vocalist, on the other hand, will not hesitate to pass
himself off, so far as a name can assist him in his enterprise, as some
sort of foreigner. My old pal, Jack Foley, becomes Signor Foli, and the
Signor sticks to him through life. We have a Signor Sinclair, a name
which seems to me as droll as that of Count Smith at the San Francisco
Hotel. Provincial managers have often entreated me to use my influence
with Mr. Santley in order to make him change his name to Signor
Santalini, which they assured me would look better in the programme, and
bring more money into the house. A Mr. Walker being engaged to appear at
Her Majesty's Theatre, called himself on doing so Signor Valchieri
(Signor Perambulatore would certainly have been better); and a
well-known American singer, Mr. John Clarke, of Brooklyn, transformed
himself on joining my Company into Signor Giovanni Chiari di Broccolini.
The English and American young ladies who now sing in such numbers on
the Italian stage take the prefix not of Signora or Signorina, but of
Madame or Mademoiselle. This, also, is confusing.