Emma Calvé (1858-1942)
Emma Calvé (1858-1942)
(from "STARS OF THE OPERA" by Mabel Wagnalls - Funk and Wagnals, New York and London, 1906)
CALVE AND "CARMEN"
"Hear Calvé in 'Carmen' and die," is the motto which heralded this singer's first visit to America. Our curiosity was greatly aroused, for we thought we knew all about "Carmen." We clung to the traditions of our own Minnie Hauk who had created the role, and could imagine nothing better than a trim, dainty Carmen with high-heeled slippers, short skirts, and a Spanish mantilla. Great was our amazement on that memorable night in 1894 when we beheld for the first time a real cigarette girl of modern Spain. Here was a daring innovation that at once aroused attention and new interest in the opera. This Carmen wore highheeled slippers, 'tis true, but somewhat worn down and scuffed, as they must be if she was in the habit of running over the cobblestones of Seville as she ran to the footlights on her first entrance. And her skirts, far from being well-setting and so short as to reveal shapely ankles and a suspicion of lace petticoats, were of that sloppy, half-short length, which even the street girls of London wear to-day. But most astounding of all departures was the absence of any sign of a mantilla! How could one be Spanish without a mantilla - any more than one could be Russian without fur! But this Carmen had an eye to color - she could hardly otherwise be a coquette - and in her hair at the nape of her neck was deftly tucked a large crimson flower. Her hair, however, was carelessly pinned, and even tumbled quite down later on - a stroke of realism which was added to by the way she coiled it up and jabbed it into place again. A strange performance to behold in a grand opera setting; and we might have resented such defiance of the code had we not been forced to admit that it was all absolutely correct, and this Carmen was more truly Spanish than any impersonation we had seen. Even her voice seemed tropical; such richness of tone, warmth, and color had never before been combined in the singing of Bizet's opera. Had Bizet only lived to this day he might have died happily, for Carmen, the child of his brain, found no favor with the public when first introduced.
After the surprise of Madame Calvé's costume and then of her voice, New Yorkers awoke to the fact that Carmen had never before been acted. This performance was a revelation, a character study of a creature who recklessly holds that it is right to get all the pleasure you can, and wrong not to have what you want. Madame Calvé's Carmen, needless to say, became the talk of the town and the fad of the day. She had scarcely any chance to appear in other roles; but since her first season we have been shown that her dramatic talent is many-sided. Even in Faust, the very Ancient of Days among operas, so rigid are its traditions, she imparts original touches that give high light to its effects and new color to the masterpiece. A very stroke of genius is the dropping of Marguerite's prayer-book in the excitement of her first meeting with Faust, so symbolical is it of his effect on her life. This is more than realism - it is poetry. Again in the spinning-song she creates an exquisite effect by disentangling a knot in the thread on her wheel and at the same time slowing up with her song and diminishing it until the wheel turns again and she resumes the tempo. She also sings Ophelia in Hamlet with many new ideas and startling voice and breath effects. Throughout all the mad music she calls into use an "eerie tone" that is fearful in its pathos and terror.
Madame Calvé is unique in her art and isolated in her life. She is a Theosophist, and regulates much of her art by the precepts of this philosophy. Her own life seems so enchanted that she may well think the stars have shaped it. Born and raised in a village of Southern France, the peasants there can hardly realize to this day that the lady of wealth and fame who now owns a neighboring estate is one who grew up among them. Her name was originally Emma Roquer, but when she became wedded to her art it was changed to Calvé.
Her manner and personality are well portrayed in a recent article by Harry Steele Morrison, from which we quote: "When she had finished her last number on the program, the mad scene from 'Hamlet,' the audience rose as one man and cheered the great actress and songstress for several minutes without ceasing, and I lost no time in hastening behind the scenes to see if I could not secure an introduction. The great Ophelia stood in the center of the stage still clad in her burial robes and surrounded by the flowers which she had torn to pieces in her madness. Her friends were gathered about her, congratulating her upon her triumph. When the crowd about the singer had gone away and I was introduced, I found her charming. Her sincerity of manner, her childish simplicity of bearing, made an impression which was most favorable. And her first remark was typical of the woman. 'You don't know how I've enjoyed this evening. It brings back to me the nights at the Opera Comique. It is almost like France, and I am so thankful to all the people for their kindness.
"'You Americans are so good,' she said, turning to me, while Signor Campanari translated her French. 'I was so afraid the evening would be a failure, but I couldn't have desired a greater success than it has proven to be. I am too hasty, I fear, and too apt to borrow trouble. Do you know,' she said, turning to the signor, 'I actually stormed before the performance, because I thought there would not be a good house. And now, of course, I'm ashamed of myself. They don't always understand me here. In France they know my moods and pardon all my eccentricities. They are so kind to me there. In Cevennes they wouldn't mind if I stormed about for a week at a time. The good people would probably think all the more of me.'"
Cevennes is the village where she was born. Her voice was first discovered and trained in the convent school, where, as is the custom in France, she was placed at an early age. We quote again from Mr. Morrison's article:
"Among her other studies was that of music, and it was noticed by the nuns that she took greater interest in this than in any other. Her tuneful 'Ave Marias' were soon the wonder and admiration of the entire school, and it was a recognized fact that Emma Roquer had the finest voice which had ever been heard in the convent. She was called upon to sing solos whenever there was a visitor of importance, and was allowed to give much time to her music. 'Of course I had no idea of ever singing in opera at this time,' said Madame Calvé in speaking of the school. 'The nuns would have severely punished me if they had suspected any such intention on my part. They allowed me to learn a few operatic airs, however, and of course I practised all the sacred oratorios obtainable.'
"The young girl's term at school was hardly finished when she was shocked with the news of her father's death, and Calvé found her mother left with a large family to support. The noble-hearted girl was never in doubt about what course she should pursue. 'It was my plain duty to make something of my musical talent,' she said, 'and I set to work to fit myself for opera.'
"The training at the convent was now a great help to the young aspirant for operatic laurels. Her education was excellent in certain ways, and the chief task remaining was for her to learn a repertoire of operatic roles. Money was secured for her to complete her studies in Paris, and then, after many months of hard work, there came an opportunity for her to make her debut in Brussels."
Her success was immediate and permanent, both financially and artistically. She is young yet and unmarried, but has made money enough to buy a beautiful chateau, and to be largely charitable. Her generosity is praised by all who know her.
Imaginative, intense, and impulsive, and possessed of musical and dramatic powers which seem almost unaccountable, it is not to be wondered at that Madame Calvé finds some fascination in the mysteries of occultism, and has become persuaded of her own pre-existence. It may be - on the stage she is so lost in her part that she believes her old self is revived - that she once was Ophelia in the palace of Denmark and Prince Hamlet was her betrothed. At the time being it would hardly be difficult to persuade the whole audience to harbor this bit of fancy, for so genuine is her grief and so tender her song that it indeed seems like a voice from the past. In the future, at any rate, Madame Calvé intends to be identified with this character, for she is now having her tomb erected in Paris, with Ophelia sculptured upon it life size.
It is interesting to note that one so beautiful, brilliant, and successful still gives time to much serious thought of death and the hereafter.
(from "FAMOUS SINGERS OF TODAY AND YESTERDAY" by Henry C. Lahee - L. C. PAGE and Co., 1898)
Prima Donnas of the Eighties [excerpt]
Unquestionably the greatest artist of her school on the opera stage at the present day is Emma Calvé, 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 Calvé. She has acquired her art in the school of adversity. Her early stage experiences were not highly successful, though she was re-engaged. 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. Calvé'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, Calvé 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, Calvé 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 Calvé 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 Calvé 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 Calvé'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 Calvé is something to remember for a lifetime.
Calvé" 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, easygoing, and is intensely admired, both by her associates at the theatre, and in the drawingroom. 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, "Calvé" 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. Calvé 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.