Garcia the Centenarian And His Times Part 13

He defined the expression "register" as being a series of consecutive h.o.m.ogeneous sounds produced by one mechanism, differing essentially from another series of sounds equally h.o.m.ogeneous produced by another mechanism, whatever modifications of "timbre" and of strength they may offer. "Each of the registers," he added, "has its own extent and sonority, which varies according to the s.e.x of the individual and the nature of the organ."

At this time he stated that there were two registers; but in later years, with the invention of the laryngoscope and the examination of the vocal cords which resulted from it, he altered the original division from two to three--chest, medium, and head-voice,--and this is accepted by all as scientifically correct according to the definition of "register" laid down by him.

The year which found Manuel Garcia presenting his paper to the Academie des Sciences saw his sister Pauline married to Monsieur Viardot, by whom she had been engaged for her first season at the Paris Opera House.

Almost immediately after the wedding her husband resigned his position, so as to accompany her on her tours through Italy, Spain, Germany, Russia, and England.

At Berlin, such was her success, that after her performance as Rahel in Halevy's "La Juive," she was serenaded by the whole orchestra. Here, too, she astonished all by volunteering at a moment's notice to sing the part of Isabelle in "Robert le Diable" in addition to her own of Alice, when the artiste who had been engaged for the former _role_ was suddenly taken ill.

Her actual _debut_ in Germany was made at a State concert in Berlin,--an official ceremony, but still a private one. The first public appearance in the country was made at an evening concert at the Gewandhaus of Leipsic in 1843.

Pauline Viardot was twenty-two at the time. With a charming appearance, and already ablaze with the reflected glory of her sister, Maria Malibran, the _debutante_ quickly roused the sympathetic curiosity of her audience to enthusiasm. The entire press praised her virtuosity, artistic feeling, and n.o.bility of countenance, but above all they expressed admiration for her gift of revealing the innermost beauty of the grand musical works in which she lived and felt so profoundly.

They admired, too, that unique talent which wrapped every phrase in the exquisite charm and grace which she brought to bear. For that reason the bravura air of Persiani's "Ines de Castro," the final rondo from Rossini's "Cenerentola," and an unpublished air of Ch. de Beriot, earned for her at this first concert as much applause as the great air from Handel's "Rinaldo" and the lighter French, Spanish, and German songs which she sang in the same programme. These last three varieties of song she gave with a national colour so characteristic that, as one of the critics said, "Elles parurent chantees par trois voix et par trois ames totalement differentes."

As was her usual custom, she accompanied herself on the piano to perfection. Clara Schumann, who took part in the concert, was dumfounded, and never forgot the occasion. Another musician who appeared that evening was a young violinist, an infant prodigy, twelve years old, who was to become in later years the great master, Joseph Joachim.

Between 1840 and 1843 Mme. Viardot added to her successes many fresh operas, princ.i.p.al among them being "Tancredi," the "Gazza Ladra," and "Semiramide," in which she took the part of Arsace. By the year 1845 her repertoire comprised, in addition to those already mentioned, "Somnambula" and "Norma," "I Capuletti" (in which she played Romeo), "L'Elisire d'Amore," "Lucia di Lammermoor," and "Don Pasquale"; as well as in German, "La Juive," "Iphigenie en Tauride," "Les Huguenots,"

"Robert le Diable," and "Don Juan," in which she played sometimes the part of Zerlina, at others Donna Anna.

In 1848 she was in Paris again, and enraptured Meyerbeer with her rendering of Fides in "Le Prophete," a _role_ which she subsequently sustained on over two hundred occasions in all the chief opera houses in Europe, being--_teste_ Moscheles--"the life and soul of the opera, which owed to her at least half of its great success."

Three years later came another triumph, when, at Gounod's request, she created the part of Sapho. In 1855 she added to her laurels "Le Mariage Secret." Then came the evenings at the Theatre Lyrique in 1859, with "Orpheo" and "Fidelio," and finally her season of opera in 1861, with "Alceste," "Favorita," and "Il Trovatore."

At the end of a career lasting over a period of twenty-five years, the artist retired, and in 1865 settled in Baden-Baden as a teacher, her princ.i.p.al pupils being Desire Artot, Marianne Brandt, and Antoinette Sterling. Here in her own grounds she had a private theatre built, a small square building, capable of holding about a hundred people, in addition to a diminutive orchestra, stage, and anteroom. In this hall she was wont to give concerts, to which were invited celebrities from every land, representatives of the various branches of art and science, poets, painters, diplomats, and the like; while on more than one occasion the old Emperor of Germany himself honoured her with his presence.

At one of these, Mme. Viardot's pupils performed an operetta of her own composition, while Mme. Artot sang a scene from an opera, and several others from among the greatest German artists took part in the programme. These included Joseph Joachim and Ferdinand David, the latter of whom was at this time Concertmeister in Leipzig.

Antoinette Sterling, who was then studying with Mme. Viardot, sang an Italian aria, in addition to taking part in the operetta. Her hair was let down for the occasion, while she wore a costume in the Grecian style, surmounted by a red velvet cap. This was the only time my mother ever appeared in "stage costume," or suffered rouge to be applied to her face.

During this period Johannes Brahms was living in Baden-Baden, and Antoinette Sterling has left a description of an episode in connection with the friendship of the composer for Mme. Viardot:--

"Herr Brahms at this time looked almost a boy, rather short and thick, with a full round face and fair yellowish hair. In honour of Mme.

Viardot's birthday"--(this was in the year 1869)--"he wrote a small chorus for women's voices, and came himself to conduct the rehearsals, all of which took place in my rooms. At five o'clock on the birthday morning, we walked with Herr Brahms through the gra.s.sy fields up to her house, and there, under her window, sang the morning serenade. When she came down from her room, her face wreathed in smiles, every student threw her a bouquet, a stipulated price being given for each of these bunches of flowers, so that none should be more gorgeous than the rest."

We have seen the admiration which Pauline Viardot had aroused in many composers besides Brahms. One may add to the list the name of Robert Schumann, for he dedicated to her his beautiful Liederkreis, op. 24. Nor was Senor Garcia's sister unknown as a writer of music, for she has been responsible for many beautiful compositions.

After spending some five years in Baden-Baden, Mme. Viardot was forced to leave the town on the outbreak of the Franco-Prussian War, owing to her husband being of French nationality. They made their way at once to London, where Manuel Garcia was residing, and of the months which they spent there I shall have something to say later, since Mme. Noufflard, the daughter of Lady Halle, has given some interesting reminiscences of that period. When things had become sufficiently quiet again Mme.

Viardot decided to settle in Paris, and there she has resided ever since.

And what of her life in recent years, in her grand retirement? The year 1905, which saw her brother celebrating his centenary, found her in splendid old age after many years of widowhood, approaching her eighty-fifth birthday; living in a handsome house in the Boulevard St Germain; strong, tall, and of dignified bearing, her hazel eyes still retaining their true Spanish brilliance; her voice clear and well-sustained; herself full of vivacity, and with a memory no less remarkable than that of her brother; full of enthusiasm for music and art, a grandmother, with the most charming smile and magnetic gaiety, and still able to add to the number of her musical compositions.

A true Garcia.

One might well be tempted to dwell still further on that wonderful personality, laying stress on her care as a teacher, on her beneficent work among the artists whom she instructed, after they had journeyed from all directions, from the New World as well as the Old, to place themselves in her hands. One longs to paint her amid her home surroundings, in an atmosphere vibrating with music, bathed in art; one longs to show that lovable serenity, that wonderful gaiety and prodigious activity, which perhaps strike one most of all.

This little sketch of her career will be brought to an end by a quotation from a letter, in which one may appreciate the exquisite turn which she gives to every phrase and thought:--

" ...Mais ou trouver le temps de faire ce qu'on voudrait? C'est a peine si on arrive a faire ce qu'on doit! En vieillissant, le temps pa.s.se de plus en plus vite et vous entraine d'une course vertigineuse vers le _Grand Inconnu!_ sans arret, sans repos, sans pitie. Il y aura peut-etre dans le ciel une immense bibliotheque, ou les uvres du genie seront ra.s.semblees, et je me promets d'y faire de fameuses seances de lectures!..."

It is the letter of a moment, but the sentiments, which she expresses so beautifully, are those of an eternity.

[Ill.u.s.tration:

_Photo by_ _W. & D. Downey._

Yours sincerely Jenny Goldschmidt]

CHAPTER X.

JENNY LIND.

(1841-1842.)

The year 1841 may be looked on as the most important in Manuel Garcia's career as a teacher of singing, for it saw the arrival of the soprano who was to become the greatest of all his pupils--Jenny Lind. For this reason it is my intention to devote a chapter to the events which led up to her coming to him for lessons, to the period of study which she spent under his guidance, and to the success which followed on the completion of this training. For much of the material I am indebted to the interesting memoir of the prima donna's career written by Canon Scott Holland, through whose courtesy I have been enabled to quote from the volume in question.

Born in Stockholm in 1820 of humble parentage, Jenny Lind, at the age of nine, was admitted to the school of singing attached to the Royal Theatre. Of the incident which brought about her removal and fixed for ever the lines of her future career, it is possible for us to read in her own words, as they were taken down by her son, to whom she told the story at Cannes in the spring of 1887.

"As a child," writes Canon Holland, "she would sing with every step she took: one of the forms which the perpetual song a.s.sumed was addressed to a blue-ribboned cat, of which she was very fond. Here is the rest of the story as Jenny Lind related it:--

"'Her favourite seat was in the window of the steward's room, which looked out on the lively street leading up to the church of St Jacob.

Here she sat and sang to the cat; and the people pa.s.sing in the street used to hear and wonder. Amongst others was the maid of Mdlle. Lundberg, a dancer at the Royal Opera House, and this girl on her return told her mistress that she had never heard such beautiful singing as that of this little one when she sang to her pet.

"'Mdlle. Lundberg thereupon found out her name and sent a note to the mother, who was in Stockholm at the time, asking her to bring the child to sing to her; and when she heard her voice, she cried, "The girl is a genius! you must have her educated for the stage." But Jenny's mother, as well as her grandmother, had an old-fashioned prejudice against the stage, and would not hear of such a thing. "Then you must, at any rate, have her taught singing," said the dancer; and in this way the mother was persuaded to accept a letter of introduction to Herr Croelius, the Court secretary and Singing-master, at the Royal Theatre.

"'Off with the letter they started; but as they went up the broad steps of the Opera House, the parent was again troubled by her doubts and repugnance. She had, no doubt, all the inherited dislike of the burgher families for the dramatic life. But little Jenny eagerly urged her to go on; and so they entered the room where the teacher sat. The child sang him something out of an opera composed by Winter. When he heard her, Croelius was moved to tears, and said that he must take her in to the Count Puke, the head of the Royal Theatre, and tell him what a treasure he had found.

"'Having been admitted to the manager's sanctum, the first question asked was, "How old is she?" and Croelius answered "Nine years." "Nine!"

exclaimed the Count; "but this is not a _creche_--it is the King's Theatre;" and he would not look at her, she being, moreover, at that time what she herself has called "a small, ugly, broad-nosed, shy, gauche, under-grown girl." "Well," said the other, "if you will not hear her, then I will teach her gratuitously myself, and she will astonish you one day." With that Count Puke consented to hear her sing; and when she sang he, too, was moved to tears. From that moment she was accepted, being taught to sing, educated, and brought up at the Government expense.'"

Thus did Jenny Lind tell the crucial event of her life in her own graphic manner.

At eighteen she came out as an opera singer, appearing as Agatha in "Der Freischutz," Alice in "Robert le Diable," and many other parts. During the two years that followed, she caused considerable damage to her voice, partly through overstrain, partly through ignorance of the true principles of voice-emission. As soon as she realised what had happened she determined to go to Paris, for she had been long convinced that there was one man alone from whom she could learn all those technicalities of the art of singing of which she knew so little and longed to know so much. And the name of that man was Manuel Garcia, whose fame as a teacher had, even at that early period of his career, already travelled to Sweden.

It was not long before her project was put into execution. On Thursday, July 1, 1841, Mdlle. Lind, now in her twenty-first year, embarked on the steamship _Gauthiod_ for Lubeck.

After a few days of rest and enjoyment she proceeded to Havre by steamboat and thence by diligence to Paris.

Here we can take up the narrative as it is told by Canon Holland:--

"On leaving Sweden she had brought with her a letter of introduction to the d.u.c.h.esse de Dalmatie (Madame la Marechale Soult) from her relative, Queen Desideria, the wife of Marechal Bernadotte, who had become King of Sweden and Norway in the year 1818, under the t.i.tle of Karl XIV. Johann.

"As a result of the letter she received an invitation, soon after her arrival, for a reception at Madame Soult's house. It was understood that she would be asked to sing, and Signor Garcia was specially requested by the d.u.c.h.ess to be present that he might hear the new arrival.

"She gave some Swedish songs, accompanying herself on the pianoforte, but either through nervousness or fatigue she does not appear to have done herself justice, and her singing did not produce a very favourable effect upon the a.s.sembled guests. Her voice was worn not only from over-exertion but from want of that careful management which can only be acquired by long training under a thoroughly competent master.