PRIMA DONNAS OF THE EIGHTIES.
To every opera-goer of the past ten years the name of Nordica has become
almost as familiar as that of Patti was during the last generation.
Nordica, or rather, Giglia Nordica, was the name assumed by Lillian
Norton when she made her debut on the operatic stage. She was born in
Farmington, Me., and at the age of fifteen, giving great promise as a
singer, she entered the New England Conservatory in Boston, Mass., where
she studied voice under John O'Neil. Three years later she graduated
from the Conservatory with honors. She was remarkable for her beauty and
amiability as much as for her voice, which was a soprano of the purest
kind. During her years of study at the Conservatory she gained much
experience by singing in church and in concerts, and for a time she
accompanied Samuel R. Kelley's Tableaux d'Art Company, receiving for her
services as vocalist the modest compensation of five dollars an evening.
[Illustration: _Nordica._]
On leaving the Conservatory, she was invited to sing in concerts in
Philadelphia, Baltimore, Cleveland, St. Louis, and New York, where she
took leading parts in the oratorios of "Elijah," "Creation," "Messiah,"
etc. In 1873 she was engaged for a concert tour in England, Scotland,
Ireland, Belgium, Holland, and France, during which her repertoire
consisted of classical music only. During this tour she sang at the
Crystal Palace, near London, and at the Trocadero in Paris. She then
went to Milan, where she studied opera under Signor Sangiovanni, and
made her operatic debut at Brescia, in "Traviata."
In October, 1880, she was engaged at Genoa for fifteen performances of
"Faust," in which she took the part of Marguerite. She next sang at
Novara, where she took the part of Alice in "Roberto," and was
afterwards engaged for thirty-five performances at Aquila in "Faust,"
"Rigoletto," and "Lucia."
Her next engagement was in St. Petersburg, where she sang in
"L'Africaine," taking the role of Inez, in "The Marriage of Figaro" as
Cherubino, in "Mignon" as Filina, in "Ugonotti" as Queen Marguerite, in
"Don Giovanni" as Zerlina, and in "Il Propheto" as Berta, besides other
operas. Thus she acquired in a comparatively short time, and by dint of
extremely hard work, quite an extensive repertoire.
In 1882 she endured the crucial test of the Grand Opera House in Paris,
where, in spite of the "Claque," which is so frequently organized to
kill off new singers, she made a grand success, and an engagement for
three years ensued. Some years later, however, in spite of the renown
which she had gained, fickle Paris grew cold, and critics were laconic.
At this time Nordica did not need the approval of Paris, for she was
well established among the great singers of the period, and it is
recognized that, while a success in Paris is considered an important
conquest, a failure counts for little. The firm establishment of the
"Claque," which is so well described by Mr. Sutherland Edwards, and the
proverbial caprice of Parisian audiences, are sufficient to take the
edge off of defeat. At the termination of her engagement in Paris, in
1883, Nordica married Mr. Frederick A. Gower, who shortly afterwards was
supposed to have lost his life while attempting to cross the English
Channel in a balloon. This matter remained a mystery for many years,
for, while there was no doubt that he started on the perilous journey,
nothing was ever after seen or heard of him or of the balloon. The
question of his death, therefore, remained in doubt, and when, after a
lapse of more than a dozen years, it was announced that Madame Nordica
was about to enter the bonds of matrimony a second time, she suffered
much annoyance from the rumors which were spread about to the effect
that Mr. Gower was in various parts of the world. These rumors never
proved to have any foundation, and, except for the annoyance, must have
been somewhat flattering as evidence of the interest taken in the prima
donna by the public.
In 1887 Nordica sang in Berlin, and made a complete capture of the
Berlinese, a most unusual achievement for an American prima donna. She
also appeared in London at Drury Lane, and by the sweetness and
freshness of her voice, and by the alternating charm and intensity of
her style as an actress, she won a firm and lasting hold on the British
public. She now enjoyed the most marked social attentions, and sang at a
state concert at Buckingham Palace before an audience composed of
princes, princesses, dukes, Indian royalties, etc. The Princess of Wales
came forward and thanked her, the prince added his word, and her triumph
was complete. The climax was reached, however, when she was commanded by
the queen to sing in Westminster Abbey. She sang "Let the bright
Seraphim," which selection has for years been the standard for state
occasions. Indeed, it may be said that when a prima donna has been
commanded to sing "Let the bright Seraphim," in Westminster Abbey, she
has achieved the highest honor possible in England. Madame Albani has
exceeded this in having had the honor of lunching with the queen, but
this latter was more a tribute to her worth as a woman than as an
artist.
One of Nordica's greatest assumptions has been that of the role of Elsa
in "Lohengrin." She has the feeling, the artistic understanding, which,
combined with beautiful vocal gifts, brings out the most delicate
shading of the part. It is doubtful whether any greater representations
of "Lohengrin" have been given than when Nordica sang Elsa, and Jean de
Reszke the title role.
Her success in such parts led her to devote her attention more
particularly to Wagnerian roles, and in 1894 she sang with great success
at Bayreuth.
Nordica has for several seasons visited the United States as a member of
the Abbey and Grau Opera Company, which contained such singers as Emma
Eames, Melba, Calve, Scalchi, the De Reszkes, Plancon, and Lassalle. In
1897, when Abbey and Grau failed, Madame Nordica was a creditor to the
extent of $5,000. When the affairs of the company were arranged, an
agreement was reached with Madame Nordica, by which she was to receive
$1,000 a night. To her surprise, she afterwards discovered that Melba
was to receive $1,200, Calve $1,400, Jean de Reszke $1,200, with an
additional percentage of the receipts. To add to her humiliation, the
part of Brunhilde was given to Madame Melba, whose health, by the way,
collapsed suddenly after her first performance of that part, and
necessitated a speedy departure for Paris. Nordica left the company, and
in doing so had the moral support of the public, for, while there were
many complaints about the excessive salaries demanded by opera singers,
there seemed to be no reason why Madame Nordica should not insist upon
her share. Statements were also made to the effect that Jean de Reszke
would never again sing with Nordica.
The years 1896 and 1897 were years of much financial depression in the
United States, a fact which does not seem to have been fully
appreciated by opera singers, for the collapse of the season seems to
have given rise to considerable bitterness of feeling.
Madame Nordica took unto herself Madame Scalchi, the contralto, and
Barron Berthald, a young tenor, who in a night achieved fame, and toured
the country giving concerts, but with little success. Whatever truth
there may have been in the reported coolness between Madame Nordica and
Jean de Reszke, either diplomacy or the exigencies of the opera singer's
hard lot brought about an ostensible reconciliation; for in London,
during the opera season of 1898, Jean de Reszke sang Tristan with Madame
Nordica as Isolde, when a critic wrote, "We have so often been told that
this music cannot be sung, and we have so often heard it shouted and
declaimed by Tristans who could not sing, and by Isoldes without a
voice, that it was a double joy, not only to hear it sung, but to hear
it superbly sung, with all the confidence and apparent ease one is
accustomed to in a Schubert song, or a Massenet romance."
Madame Nordica is now in her prime. What new honors she may win we
cannot foresee, but she now stands high in the front rank of the great
singers of the day. In 1896 she married Mr. Zoltan Doehme. The
engagement, which had been once broken off, came to a sudden climax
while Nordica was in Indianapolis. Mr. Doehme suddenly appeared, having
travelled from Germany, and in a few hours they were married without any
display or previous announcement.
Madame Nordica wins many friends by frank, engaging cordiality of
manner, while her impulsive nature and enthusiasm help her over many
difficulties. One may imagine the consternation caused in the Boston
Symphony Orchestra by her startling declaration, at a rehearsal, that
they were like a Kalamazoo band. Perhaps the sore is still open, but
her winning manners will close it the next time that she comes among
them.
One of the most brilliant singers among the number of Americans who
have, during the latter half of this century, won distinction on the
operatic stage, is Emma Nevada. She is the daughter of a physician named
William Wallace Wixom, of Nevada City, Cal.
As a child she was so musical that she sang in public when only three
years old. Her mother died when she was quite young, and she received
her education at a seminary in Oakland, California. She was now consumed
by a desire to go to Europe and make a study of voice, and she became
one of a party of girls under the care of a Doctor Eberl, who was to
escort them and keep them under his protection in Berlin. When the
vessel anchored in the Elbe, the passengers were transferred to a
smaller steamer to be landed. Dr. Eberl went on board the little steamer
with the rest, walked into the cabin and died. This was a terrible
calamity for the party under his care, but Emma Wixom succeeded in
finding her way to Berlin, where she sought advice with regard to her
voice, and was recommended to go to Marchesi at Vienna.
It is said that on reaching Vienna she found her funds exhausted, but
she sought Madame Marchesi and told her her circumstances. Marchesi was
so much captivated by her voice and manners that she offered her a home
and took care of her until her debut.
Through Marchesi's influence an engagement was secured for her in
London, where she made her debut in "Sonnambula" in 1880. On making her
appearance in public, Miss Wixom followed the custom of assuming the
name of her native place, and so became Emma Nevada. Concerning her
debut a critic of the time wrote: "Mapleson has brought a new prima
donna, Mlle. Nevada, who is gifted with a very light voice, which is,
however, extremely flexible, and is used very effectively in the upper
registers. The great merits of her voice lie in her staccato effects,
chromatic runs,--which she gives with great purity,--and notes in
altissimo. The defects are excessive lightness of tone, lack of good
lower notes, and a rather imperfect trill. She won many friends by her
refined manners and culture, and if not a great singer she is certainly
an agreeable one."
Another admirer tells us about a performance of "Lucia." In the roulade
duet between the flute and the voice, after the competition was ended
and her full, firm shake, as effortless as the simplest strain, was
about half over, she ran off the stage, the shake continuing just as
perfect all the way, and as she disappeared left a final note away up
among the clouds. But with all this brilliant execution she delighted as
much by her sustained notes, which were of beautiful, flutelike
quality. She also won the affection and respect of all her associates,
by her kindly ways.
A staccato polka was written for Mlle. Nevada, with a view to exhibiting
her voice, and her rendering of it was considered a marvellous
exhibition of vocal technique.
Although her voice was criticised as being too light for grand opera,
Mlle. Nevada was engaged at once to sing in Italy, after which she sang
in 1883 at the Opera Comique in Paris, and has had an exceptionally
successful career, both in Europe and America, where, in 1885, she was
warmly welcomed. In April, 1898, Emma Nevada sang in Paris after a tour
through Holland, showing no diminution of her artistic powers.
A little anecdote was told concerning a performance of "Lucia" in Paris,
which tends to show the kindly disposition, of the young prima donna.
She was, in the mad scene, accompanied in a most delicious manner by
the flutist in the orchestra. One was often puzzled during the
celebrated duet to determine which were the notes of the flute and which
were those of the singer. Now and then a pathetic vibration would reveal
the human voice and cause it to rise triumphant above the instrument.
She taxed the skill of the musician to the uttermost to follow her
through the intricate mazes of sound. When, through nervousness, she for
a moment forgot the words of her song, the humble musician came to her
rescue and improvised a few sparkling variations to enable her to regain
her breath and recollect the lost phrases. At the end of the duet, two
powdered footmen advanced from the wings with a gigantic basket of
flowers which had been sent to her from Rome by some friends. She
selected the finest rose, and, advancing to the footlights, handed it to
the leader of the orchestra to be passed on to the flute player. The
action was taken with much grace and spontaneity, and brought down a
storm of applause, while the poor flutist, unaccustomed to the
recognition of his talent, was overcome with joy at such a graceful
acknowledgment.
One of her trials took place when the Edgardo (Gayarre), who more than
simulated jealous rage, knocked her about in good earnest. His violence
made her forget everything but her part, and she had no chance to think
of the public while trying to keep her wrists out of his reach.
In 1884 Mlle. Nevada had a disagreement with M. Carvalho about a
costume. He offered to cancel her contract, and she joyfully accepted
the offer, after which they both had ample time to repent of their hasty
action. The following year she married Doctor Raymond Palmer, a surgeon
practising in the west of England, a big, bluff, handsome Englishman.
She was small, slight, and graceful.
The marriage, which took place in Paris, in October, 1885, was a great
social event in the American colony in Paris. Speeches were made by
Consul-General Walker and others. Ambroise Thomas, the composer, was
there, and called her "Mignon, my dear interpreter," on which she rose
from her seat, went to him, put her arms around his neck, and kissed
him. The wedding presents were many and valuable, and the descriptions
thereof filled many columns of the newspapers. Never before had an
American prima donna been the centre of so much excitement.
After a short honeymoon, a concert tour in the United States was
undertaken. Madame Nevada did not retire from the stage, but after
fifteen years she is still as popular as ever, though her voice is too
light to be effective in any of the grand operas of modern times.
Unquestionably the greatest artist of her school on the opera stage at
the present day is Emma Calve, whose proper name is Emma Roquer. She was
born in 1866, at Decazeville in the Aveyron, her father being a civil
engineer, and a member of a good Spanish family. He unfortunately died
when his daughter Emma was sixteen years of age, and left his family in
poor circumstances. Emma, who was the eldest child, was brought up in a
convent, the quiet life of which was very attractive to her, but she was
prevented from taking the veil because her mother needed her help at
home.
A gentleman from Paris, who heard her sing one day in the convent
chapel, urged her mother to send her to Paris for musical training, and
much against her own wishes the young singer began the course of
training which led to her appearance on the operatic stage.
Life has not been all sunshine for Emma Calve. She has acquired her art
in the school of adversity. Her early stage experiences were not highly
successful, though she was reengaged. Her debut was made at Brussels at
the Theatre de Monnaie, as Marguerite in "Faust," in 1881. During this
season she received a salary of a hundred and forty dollars a month,
which was increased the next year to two hundred and forty. In 1884 she
went to Paris, where she created the leading part in "Aben Hamet," by
Dubois, at the Theatre Italien, and was decidedly successful.
Her teachers up to this time had been a tenor named Puget, and Laborde,
but she now began to study under Madame Marchesi, and then followed a
successful tour in Italy, during which she gained much by association
with the Italian people, and cultivated her dramatic instincts. Here she
saw Eleanora Duse, the great actress, whose impersonations made a great
impression on the young singer. Calve's impassioned acting, her
magnetic personality, and beautiful voice, won for her the greatest
success at La Scala. In 1889 she returned to Paris, and continued her
career of hard work and success, but the day of her greatness had not
yet come.
In 1891 she created the part of Suzel in "L'Amico Fritz," at Rome, an
event which added greatly to her renown, and when "Cavalleria Rusticana"
was given in Paris for the first time in 1892, Calve was selected as the
most fitting interpreter of the part of Santuzza. Her success in this
part was something phenomenal, and was gained after much study of the
story, the close intercourse she had made with the Italian people, and
by the aid of some suggestions from Mascagni, the composer.
Her success as Santuzza was repeated in London, and, after ten years of
unremitting labor, Calve found herself acknowledged as a great artist.
Notwithstanding the excellent quality of her voice, and her mastery of
technique, her victories have been gained by her dramatic impulses.
Her next triumph was achieved in the character of Carmen. In order to
study for this part she went to Spain, where she learned the Spanish
dances, associated with the Spanish people, and learned as much as
possible of the character of the Spanish peasant.
In 1894 she appeared at the Opera Comique in Paris, as Carmen. Her
triumph has become a matter of history. It was one of the greatest
events in the annals of the lyric stage. Patti had played Carmen, Minnie
Hauk had played Carmen, Madame Galli-Marie had played Carmen, and all
had achieved success in the part; but Calve _was_ Carmen. Her conception
of the character was a revelation. Her fascinating gestures, her
complete abandon, the grace of her dances, her dazzling beauty, all
combined to make her Carmen one of the most wonderful impersonations
ever given in opera. She has been criticised as uncertain, as giving
different interpretations at different times, but the fact remains that
Calve stands pre-eminent in the world of operatic art. Her swinging,
graceful walk, her fascinating half Oriental dances, her gestures, her
infectious, reckless mirth, all help to make up the dazzling
impersonation with which her name is associated.
Of Calve's voice little has been said, because, in the perfection of her
art, the voice is not obtrusive. It is light and sympathetic, rich in
quality, and she never forces it. She frequently misses what many
singers would seize as a vocal opportunity, for the sake of dramatic
effect, and yet her singing has a marvellous charm. The "Havanaise," as
sung by Calve, is something to remember for a lifetime.
Calve has a superb, lithe form, and her large, dark eyes and delicately
modelled features give her a charming appearance. She is frank, cordial,
young-spirited, easy-going, and is intensely admired, both by her
associates at the theatre, and in the drawing-room. She is a curious
combination of the developed woman and the simple girl. No one can
prevent her from saying and doing as she pleases, but her impulses are
seldom unkind. She believes thoroughly in spiritualism, theosophy, and
astrology. Whenever she sings, she carries with her an amulet from
Hindostan, and nothing can induce her to appear without it.
Her first visit to America was in the season of 1893-94, during which
she appeared as Mignon, in Boston, for the first time in any part of the
world. Her reception during that tour was splendid. She did not again
visit America until the season of 1895-96, but she returned the
following season, when her appearance as Marguerite in "Faust" was one
of the leading events of the season. During her absence she had improved
wonderfully in vocal form and appearance, and the critics gave her
unstinted praise. Her impersonation of Carmen again created a furore,
and, notwithstanding the superb array of talent exhibited during those
seasons, "Calve" was, above all, the subject of interest to opera-goers.
She makes her home in Paris, but her vacations are spent at a
picturesque little place called Chateau Cambrieres, situated in the
shadow of the Pyrenees. Calve is not yet at her prime, and with genius
such as she possesses it is likely that she will eclipse the
achievements of the greatest dramatic singers of the past.
Of the numerous successors of Patti, Madame Melba seems to have more
fully met the requirements than any other. In many respects she has
exceeded them, for her voice is fuller and more powerful than Patti's
ever was, but she has the same easy vocalization and marvellous
spontaneity that constituted the great charm in Patti's singing.
Melba is the daughter of a wealthy citizen of Melbourne in Australia,
and in that city, from which she takes her stage name, Nellie Mitchell
was born in 1865. There was much musical talent in the family, but it
was exercised for their own enjoyment only, for they were of Scotch
Presbyterian descent, and the idea of the stage was objectionable to
them. For this reason, while their daughter was given every advantage in
the study of the pianoforte, violin, and harp, her voice was not
cultivated. Singing was nevertheless her chief delight, and her great
desire was to take lessons.
[Illustration: _Melba as Ophelia._]
In 1883 Miss Mitchell married a Captain Armstrong, but the marriage was
not a happy one, and when her father, shortly afterwards, was appointed
commissioner from Australia to the Colonial exhibition in London, she
went there with him, and soon found herself able to enter upon study for
a musical career.
She went to Paris, where at one of Marchesi's receptions she sang and
was heard by the manager of the Brussels opera house, who offered her an
engagement, and, after only nine months' training, she made her debut.
She had been previously offered a five years' engagement by Maurice
Strakosch, but his death prevented the carrying out of the contract.
It was in 1887 that she made her first appearance in Brussels, and the
following year her Parisian debut was successfully accomplished. She was
rapturously received, and at once found herself classed among the great
singers of the century. Her career in Europe and in America was a
succession of triumphs. Her voice is rich, sympathetic, and powerful. In
flexibility it may be compared with that of Patti, and her trills and
cadenzas are accomplished with the ease and brilliancy that belong to
naturally gifted singers.
Perhaps the most severe ordeal through which she ever had to pass was in
1893, when she made her debut in Milan. The Milanese are very jealous of
their independence of opinion, and while they will accept leniently a
beginner, the artist whose reputation has been gained out of Italy is
likely to fare badly at their hands. When it was announced that Melba
was to sing at Milan, a feeling hostile to her at once made itself
manifest. When Melba arrived, the musicians and critics did their best
to keep out of the way and avoid an introduction. Stories went forth,
when rehearsals began, that her voice was like a steam whistle, and
everything that could contribute towards a failure was done. Madame
Melba's friends endeavored to keep all this from her, and for a time
they succeeded, but now she began to be pestered with anonymous letters
making threats of various kinds. This so unnerved the prima donna that
it was found advisable to acquaint the prefect of the police with the
details of the matter, and the intrigue was stopped. On the eventful
evening the house was packed, and there was an air of hostile
expectancy. The opera was "Lucia." The singer appeared amidst silence
which was interrupted now and then by hissing sounds. Hardly had her
first notes been heard when it was evident that a change of opinion had
taken place in the audience, and the ovation which she received after
the mad scene was tremendous. The press extolled her incomparable
singing, and her victory was complete.
Melba is not a great actress; she holds her audience entranced with her
marvellous vocalization, and her greatest triumphs have always been in
those operas which make the smallest demands upon the dramatic powers
of the singer. Adelina Patti could not sing in Wagnerian opera, and was
too wise to make the attempt. Melba, advised by her friends, once
appeared as Brunhilde and was not a success, and she must rest content
with being considered the greatest _vocalist_ of the day.
Madame Melba has visited America several times, and during the seasons
of 1895-96 and 1896-97 was under the management of Abbey and Grau. After
the collapse of that company she became the star of a small opera
company travelling as far as the Pacific coast. She makes her home in
Paris, where she spends a portion of each year with her son. She is
simple and frank in manner, generous by nature, and not given to malice
or jealousy.
California added a star to the operatic firmament in Sybil Sanderson,
who made her debut in 1888, under an assumed name, at The Hague, in
"Manon." She was successful, and in a few months came out at the Opera
Comique in Paris, creating the role of Esclarmonde, which Massenet had
written for her, and in which she had the advantage of the composer's
instruction.
Probably no opera singer has ever had greater advantages in the
preparation for the stage than those which Miss Sanderson enjoyed. She
is the daughter of a lawyer of high repute, who became judge of the
Supreme Bench, and later chief counsellor of the Union Pacific Railroad.
She was taken by her mother, at an early age, to Paris, where she and
her sisters received the best education possible. She desired to become
a prima donna, and had every assistance that the wealth of her parents
could provide.
Her voice is of the kind for which American prima donnas have become
celebrated, light, pure, and flexible. Its surpassing excellence lies in
the upper register, her G in alt being in itself a phenomenal
production. Miss Sanderson is a finished actress, having received the
most careful training at the hands of Massenet, who wrote also "Thais"
for her. Saint-Saens entrusted to her the creation of the title role of
"Phryne," and, in token of his delight at her performance, presented her
with a valuable necklace.
Miss Sanderson became very popular in Paris and in St. Petersburg, but
met with less favor in London and New York. Once when she sang in
London, Van Dyck was the tenor. At the rehearsal he sang _sotto voce_ in
order to save himself, and he supposed that she was doing likewise. In
the evening, at the performance,--the opera was "Manon," which Miss
Sanderson sang in Europe two hundred and fifty times,--she was
overwhelmed by the power of his voice. Van Dyck, hearing her small,
clear tones, and thinking that she was nervous, came near to offer
encouragement, and urged her to "let out your voice." "This is all the
voice I have," she replied, and he, still thinking she needed
encouragement, sang all the louder. Her great personal charm makes
itself felt across the footlights, and while she was heavily handicapped
in having to sing with such a tremendous tenor, she was yet able to
captivate the audience by her sincerity.
Ella Russell, who made her debut in Provo, Italy, is a native of
Cleveland, Ohio. Her voice is large, rich, and even, she has an imposing
stage presence and much beauty and dignity. She travelled in Europe with
success, and finally made her appearance at Covent Garden in 1885.
Another American debutante of 1885 was Marie Engle, a native of Chicago,
who at present is one of the opera company at Covent Garden. She has a
light voice, high and flexible. Her first appearance was at the Academy
of Music in New York, in a concert given by pupils, assisted by members
of the Mapleson Opera Company. Colonel Mapleson made her an offer which
was accepted, and she went with his company to San Francisco, where she
made her debut, and afterwards to London, where she has appeared for
several seasons.
She has so far followed the conventional domestic life of the prima
donna as to marry and secure a divorce. Her husband was Gustav Amburg, a
theatrical manager, whom she married in 1889. Her life with him was not
happy, and he continually ill-treated her. At last she found that he had
a wife living in Germany, and she secured her divorce in 1896.
In the Abbey and Grau opera company of 1894 a singer who attracted
considerable attention was Madame Sigrid Arnoldson. She was the daughter
of a Swedish tenor and was born in Stockholm. She made her debut in
grand opera in London, in 1887, but had already become well known at
Stockholm, where, in 1885, so great was the desire to hear her that
2,000 people stood in line all night in order to buy tickets. No singer
had been so popular since the days of Jenny Lind and Nilsson. She sang
"Mignon," and at the conclusion of the performance she was presented by
King Oscar with a decoration exactly like those given to Lind and
Nilsson. Madame Arnoldson is petite, piquant and picturesque on the
stage, and has dark hair and eyes. She is an excellent linguist,
speaking four languages.
When she was a small child she would sing like a bird while alone, but
could never be induced to sing before strangers. Her father taught her
until she was old enough to determine whether she would really have a
fine voice. Then she became a pupil of Maurice Strakosch, whose nephew,
Robert Fischoff, she married.
The appearance of a new singer from America is now looked upon as
nothing unusual, for the list of those who have acquired distinction is
already long. Clara Louise Kellogg, Annie Louise Cary, Adelaide
Phillips, Marie Litta, Minnie Hauk, Marie Van Zandt, Alwina Valleria,
Emma Nevada, Marie Engle, Sybil Sanderson, Lillian Nordica,--yes, the
list might easily be increased even without enumerating the large number
of tenors and basses. The year 1890 witnessed the debut of one who is
already acknowledged as a great artist, and who adds to her laurels each
season. One who, to a glorious voice and attractive personality, adds
dramatic power and intelligence of a high order.
Emma Eames was born in China, but at a very early age was brought by her
mother to Boston, where she received her education. Mrs. Eames was a
highly accomplished musician, and was her daughter's earliest music
teacher. As her voice developed, she began to sing in church choirs and
in concerts, where the beauty of her singing attracted a good deal of
attention. After she went to Paris, she experienced considerable
difficulty in obtaining an engagement. The road to the opera is full of
intrigue and machination. Miss Eames made her way to the front by sheer
talent. She was first engaged to sing at the Opera Comique, but, for
some reason best known to itself, the management repented of having
opened its doors to an unknown singer, and gave her no part. She
therefore asked that her contract might be annulled, and her request was
granted.
A pure, fresh voice, flexible and expressive, remarkably good
intonation, and an attractive personality, were the qualities with which
Miss Eames ruled the stage. Her fault at first was a degree of calmness
in the more vehement scenes. This was noticed particularly in "Faust,"
and yet her interpretation of the role of Marguerite is considered
exceptionally fine.
In 1891 she accomplished the difficult feat of singing the part of Elsa
in "Lohengrin," after only one rehearsal, but her greatest assumption is
that of Elizabeth in "Tannhaeuser," in which she appeared in 1895, and
gained a reputation for originality of conception which the greatest
Wagnerian singers had never developed.
During the season of 1898 in London she gained new laurels. In 1891 Miss
Eames caused a sensation by marrying Mr. Julian Wetmore Story, a young
artist of much promise. The circumstances of the marriage were rather
romantic, and gave rise at the time to a good deal of newspaper comment.
Miss Eames, whose mother was somewhat opposed to her marriage, eluded
the vigilance of her natural protector, and was quietly married in the
old church at Bray, which dates back 1,000 years. This marriage has
turned out very happily. Mr. Story has acquired a high reputation as an
artist, and by no means occupies the conventional position of "prima
donna's husband," but has an individuality of his own. Their home in
Paris is the centre of musical and artistic society, and Madame
Eames-Story has become a kind of deity amongst American students in
Paris.
Only once have there been reports circulated attributing to Madame Eames
the feelings of jealousy which seem to permeate the prima donna
sisterhood. In Boston there was supposed to have been a coolness between
Madame Eames and Calve, and the latter lady, under the rack of the
newspaper reporter, made some disagreeable remarks. Whatever cause there
may have been, Madame Eames met Madame Calve afterwards in Paris, and
offered her hand frankly, as if nothing had happened, and it was
accepted in the same generous manner.
Madame Eames has several times been obliged in her own interests to
maintain an independent position in dealing with managers, and when,
after her great American successes, the Abbey, Schoeffel, and Grau
Company would not offer her what she considered just terms, she would
not retreat from the stand which she had taken, and the company decided
to punish her by letting her alone. The result was, that Madame Eames
reaped a golden harvest in Europe, and built up a reputation so great
that her name is now mentioned as one of the four great
sopranos,--Melba, Calve, Nordica, and Eames.
[Illustration: _Emma Eames._]
With this slight sketch of an interesting career we must be content, for
a word must be added about Mlle. Zelie de Lussan, who made herself
popular to Americans during her connection with the Boston Ideal Opera
Company, from 1885-88, when she secured an engagement in London, and is
rapidly building a great reputation. Her great part is Carmen, and in
this and Mignon she has delighted the Parisians. She is piquant and
brilliant, and has the faculty of charming the audience by her grace and
personal magnetism. Mlle. de Lussan was born in New York of French
parents, and received her musical education from her mother, who was
once a well-known singer.