FRIEDA HEMPEL, SOPRANO, JUNE 26, 1885

‘Great music beautifully sung bears a message from heaven. Singing heals the spirit and lightens the heart.’ Frieda Hempel

Born in Leipzig in 1885, the precocious talent of Frieda Hempel debuted in the Königliche Oper in Berlin in the role of Frau Fluth in Otto Nicolai’s Die Lustigen Weiber von Windsor in 1905. She had been a star pupil at the Conservatorium, first as a pianist and then only later as a singer. According to her own account, her stage career actually began when as a young child she joined a travelling circus in the role of a kidnapped baby!

Her voice was first noted as a coloratura of exceptional flexibility and warmth. Indeed Richard Strauss himself rewrote parts of the role of Zerbinetta in Ariadne auf Naxos after hearing her perform. ‘One evening when we gave The Barber of Seville, he [Strauss] came running to my dressing room, all excited and said, “Jesus. Jesus, you just sang a high F-sharp!” I had sung the Proch variations with a high F-sharp and had added other high notes, and he just could not get over it. This inspired him to write the part of Zerbinetta for me, in Ariadne auf Naxos,…. I have the original manuscript as well as the first printing, with all his corrections.’ Strauss was so enamoured of her talent that he saw in her, his ideal singer as the Marschallin in Der Rosenkavalier, one of the roles for which she is now best remembered. Otto Kahn, onetime chairman of the Metropolitan Opera once told her, ‘Miss Hempel, no matter how often I hear you in Der Rosenkavalier, I never fail to get chills down my spine when you sing, “Ich weiss auch nichts – gar nichts.” You fill that pause with so much meaning.’ Her other show-stopper was as the Königin der Nacht in Mozart’s Zauberflöte. And of Mozart she later wrote, ‘I know of no other composer who lifts me in spirit as he does. It is like drinking champagne.’ In the later judgement of J.B.Stearne ‘she was at least as good a lyric soprano as she was a coloratura.’

In the same year as her debut in Berlin, she was invited to sing in Bayreuth by Cosima Wagner. At the age of 22 she found herself after having performed Lucia in Berlin on 11 September 1907 to newspaper reviews stating she ‘was established as the leading coloratura soprano’ in Germany. Singing with Caruso, Chaliapin and other greats gives some idea of her talent and musical gifts. Frieda sang in Ostende, which in those balmy days just before the First World War was a summer resort for high society, and where she was given perhaps the finest compliment other singers could give, ‘they were rehearsing a Wagnerian opera in an upstairs room when Hermann Gura came running up to them and cried, “Come downstairs! Come and listen! Here is a girl who has everything!” They all came downstairs and listened at the back of the auditorium. “It was true, you were really unbelievable,” In 1912 she established herself at New York’s Metropolitan and a mere seven years later in 1919 she virtually ceased singing in opera and concentrated solely on concert appearances. By this time, she had become a naturalised citizen of the United States, something for which political currents in her homeland would not forgive.

Her concert career can be divided into two types of appearance; as herself, Frieda Hempel, and as Jenny Lind in a Jenny Lind Show, which had started as a tribute to Jenny Lind on the occasion of the 100th anniversary of Lind’s birth. Such was its popularity it was revived for a number of years afterwards. Yet it is clear that she had a fascination with Lind, for when she visited Lind’s home at Wynd House she recalled, ‘The caretaker took us in and showed us the house. I sat down at her piano and let my thoughts wander.I thought of her sitting in that very room, practicing, practicing, and letting her soul talk. I saw her in front of me, in her hoop skirt; I sensed that at any moment she would walk in, and I felt great reverence when I touched that piano. Had she been alive, I would not have touched it.’

Despite her leaving behind the world of opera, her concert work should not be underestimated. She herself wrote, ‘Concert work is much more rewarding than operatic work, but it is also more demanding. As a concert artist, I stand alone on the stage for an hour-and-a-half or longer. I have absolutely nothing to aid me. I come out, stand in the bow of the piano, and there I am. I must create setting and scenery out of nothing but my inner sense of beauty and my art. I must live the song so fully that my audience sees and feels what I see and feel. My imagination must become its imagination.

And perhaps too, we need to recall that Hempel embraced developments in technology to reach a wider audience, just as her contemporary Caruso had done. She sang on live radio, and included a special service for radio-telephone subscribers. The subscribers could listen live to a concert through their telephone! And move over Johnny Cash – Frieda sang a memorable concert at the Auburn Jail in New York State for 1400 prisoners. The occasion clearly moved her as much as the prisoners. ‘It made no difference to whom I was going to sing – I would still give the very best that was in me to give. … The men hung on every tone as complete silence reigned. As I sang the men began to smile, and emotions began to flood the room. I thought to myself,” They cannot be so bad, when one can awaken these emotions in them.” …’

Her star burned all too quickly and she passed away in Berlin in 1955, just as the first German edition of her autobiography was being prepared for publication.

If longevity in a career is any reflection upon the greatness of a singer, then surely Ernestine Schumann-Heink must rank as one of the greatest artists of all time. From a precocious debut at age 17 in the role of Azucena – yes, you read that correctly – to her final performance as Erda at age 67, Schumann-Heink had one of the most spectacularly long careers of any singer of any age.

Notwithstanding her own early start on stage, she later wrote that, ‘It is my opinion that no girl who wishes to keep her voice in the prime of condition all the time in after years should start to study much earlier than seventeen or eighteen years of age. In the case of a man I do not believe that he should; start until he is past twenty or even twenty-two.’ Ernestine kept great store by the preservation and condition of her voice and no doubt she wrote from experience, seeing the rise and fall of many colleagues.

But it is not her stamina and sheer endurance we must admire. Ernestine Schumann-Heink was one of the outstanding artists in a golden age of opera, and she cultivated her popularity and success in that least recognised vocal domain, that of the contralto. Ernestine sang under Mahler, Richard Strauss, and with the finest exponents of the vocal art. She encompassed all the repertory, songs, popular and art, Grand Opera, Wagner and twentieth century classics. She created the role of Klymenestra in Elektra in Dresden in 1909, where perhaps infamously the composer Richard Strauss, shouted to the conductor Ernst von Schuch, ‘Louder, louder the orchestra! I can still hear the Heink!’

Schumann-Heink possessed a tremendous range, and her most notable roles as far as the Anglophone public were concerned, were Erda and Waltraute. In the words of Henry Pleasants, ‘the glory of her sumptuous voice was at the bottom rather than the top.’ A contemporary described her voice as, possessing, ‘opulent and flexible tones from low D to high B, the amazing fullness and evenness of her shake, her artistic conviction, dramatic temperament and vivid enunciation.’ which explain part of why she was a sensation.

But possibly another secret is found in her own words, ‘My secret is absolute devotion to the audience. I love my audiences. They are all my friends.’ And further due to this profound respect for her audience, ‘Therefore it is necessary for me to have my voice in the best of condition every day of the year.’ She also noted that, ‘[the] voice must first of all be beautiful. Bel canto – beautiful singing – not the singing of meaningless Italian phrases, as so many insist, but the glorious bel canto…’

For those who take an holistic view of a singer’s vocal health, it is of interest that she practiced deep breathing every day of [her] life. This quite possibly contributed to her remarkable capacity to remain focussed at all times. She had this to say about being in, what we call nowadays, ‘the zone.’ ‘The singer must relax all the times. This does not mean flabbiness. It does not mean that the singer should collapse before singing. Relaxation in the singer’s sense is a delicious condition of buoyancy, of lightness, of freedom, of ease and entire lack of tightening in any part. When I relax I feel as though every atom in my body were floating in space. There is not one single little nerve or tension.’

Born in 1861 in Lieben in Austria-Hungary, Ernestine Schumann-Heink, who became naturalised as a United States citizen, passed away in Hollywood on 17 November 1936.

ERNESTINE SCHUMANN-HEINK, CONTRALTO, JUNE 15, 1861

‘And what but surpassing praise can be written of that extraordinary woman and artist – Ernestine Schumann-Heink? She had come to the Metropolitan before me, but later I came to know her work and to admire it intensely. When she returned to sing Erda in ”Das Rheingold” after an absence of nine years the effect was amazing. The audience, of course, was as moved by her as ever, and as it was again recently when she came back to sing Erda in both “Das Rheingold” and “Siegfried.” She was truly a vocal miracle – a woman, past seventy, (sic) who could still command style and quality of voice.’

If longevity in a career is any reflection upon the greatness of a singer, then surely Ernestine Schumann-Heink must rank as one of the greatest artists of all time. From a precocious debut at age 17 in the role of Azucena – yes, you read that correctly – to her final performance as Erda at age 67, Schumann-Heink had one of the most spectacularly long careers of any singer of any age.

Notwithstanding her own early start on stage, she later wrote that, ‘It is my opinion that no girl who wishes to keep her voice in the prime of condition all the time in after years should start to study much earlier than seventeen or eighteen years of age. In the case of a man I do not believe that he should; start until he is past twenty or even twenty-two.’ Ernestine kept great store by the preservation and condition of her voice and no doubt she wrote from experience, seeing the rise and fall of many colleagues.

But it is not her stamina and sheer endurance we must admire. Ernestine Schumann-Heink was one of the outstanding artists in a golden age of opera, and she cultivated her popularity and success in that least recognised vocal domain, that of the contralto. Ernestine sang under Mahler, Richard Strauss, and with the finest exponents of the vocal art. She encompassed all the repertory, songs, popular and art, Grand Opera, Wagner and twentieth century classics. She created the role of Klymenestra in Elektra in Dresden in 1909, where perhaps infamously the composer Richard Strauss, shouted to the conductor Ernst von Schuch, ‘Louder, louder the orchestra! I can still hear the Heink!’

Schumann-Heink possessed a tremendous range, and her most notable roles as far as the Anglophone public were concerned, were Erda and Waltraute. In the words of Henry Pleasants, ‘the glory of her sumptuous voice was at the bottom rather than the top.’ A contemporary described her voice as, possessing, ‘opulent and flexible tones from low D to high B, the amazing fullness and evenness of her shake, her artistic conviction, dramatic temperament and vivid enunciation.’ which explain part of why she was a sensation.

But possibly another secret is found in her own words, ‘My secret is absolute devotion to the audience. I love my audiences. They are all my friends.’ And further due to this profound respect for her audience, ‘Therefore it is necessary for me to have my voice in the best of condition every day of the year.’ She also noted that, ‘[the] voice must first of all be beautiful. Bel canto – beautiful singing – not the singing of meaningless Italian phrases, as so many insist, but the glorious bel canto…’

For those who take an holistic view of a singer’s vocal health, it is of interest that she practiced deep breathing every day of [her] life. This quite possibly contributed to her remarkable capacity to remain focussed at all times. She had this to say about being in, what we call nowadays, ‘the zone.’ ‘The singer must relax all the times. This does not mean flabbiness. It does not mean that the singer should collapse before singing. Relaxation in the singer’s sense is a delicious condition of buoyancy, of lightness, of freedom, of ease and entire lack of tightening in any part. When I relax I feel as though every atom in my body were floating in space. There is not one single little nerve or tension.’

Born in 1861 in Lieben in Austria-Hungary, Ernestine Schumann-Heink, who became naturalised as a United States citizen, passed away in Hollywood on 17 November 1936.

ROBERTO ALAGNA, TENOR, 7. JUNI 1963

„Ich habe nie besonders an Astrologie geglaubt, aber Experten haben immer behauptet, dass ich alle Eigenschaften eines Zwillings habe: sehr gesellig, aber auch sehr anpassungsfähig. Es war also von Geburt an vorherbestimmt, dass ich zu allen Wendungen und Rollen fähig sein würde!“

„Ich habe mich besonders für die Astrologie interessiert, aber die Spezialisten, die mir täglich zur Seite stehen, bestätigen, dass ich alle Eigenschaften von Edelsteinen habe: sehr kontaktfreudig und auch sehr anpassungsfähig.“ Ich habe meine Geburt nicht bestätigt, weil ich in der Lage bin, alle Revanchen und Rollen zu übernehmen!

Das Singen liegt dem französisch-sizilianischen Tenor Roberto Alagna im Blut. Sein berühmter Urgroßvater mütterlicherseits, Jimmy, sang für den großen Enrico Caruso, als der Maestro eines Tages zufällig in seinem Brieftaschenladen in New York City, USA, vorbeischaute, und Enrico war so beeindruckt, dass er Jimmy vorschlug, für den Chor der Metropolitan Opera vorzusingen! Was für ein Kompliment! (Obwohl Jimmy den Vorschlag des Maestros – oder des „Commendatore“, „des Kommandanten“, wie Jimmy ihn liebevoll nannte – ablehnte, da er sich lieber auf sein Geschäft konzentrieren wollte.)

Robertos Gesangsmentor Rafael Ruiz war ein direkter Schüler des legendären italienischen Tenors Aureliano Pertile (1885-1952). Diese Tatsache erregte die Aufmerksamkeit von Luciano Pavarotti, als Roberto ihn bei einer Schallplattensignierstunde im Pariser Kaufhaus Printemps traf. Ein Jahr später wurde Roberto, ohne es zu wissen, zu einem Vorsingen in der ersten Runde des Internationalen Pavarotti-Gesangswettbewerbs im italienischen Pesaro eingeladen, dem Geburtsort des legendären Komponisten des 19. Jahrhunderts Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868). Er sang für Luciano sein Glückslied „La Danza“ von Rossini und dachte, er sei disqualifiziert, weil Luciano ihm nicht erlaubte, wie alle anderen Teilnehmer, ein zweites Stück für ihn zu singen. Im Gegenteil, Luciano war von seiner Stimme begeistert und qualifizierte sich für die nächste Runde. Tatsächlich erzählte Saimir Pirgu, ein albanischer Tenor, der bei Luciano studierte, Roberto Jahre später etwas, das er nicht über Luciano wusste: „Jedes Mal, wenn wir bei Luciano Unterricht hatten, sprach er nur von einem Tenor, Roberto, und er sagte: ‚Hier, nimm diese LP und sing so.‘“

Nach dem Gewinn des Pavarotti International Voice Competition 1988 in Philadelphia – der Heimatstadt von Mario Lanza – erlebte Robertos Karriere einen steilen Aufstieg.

Sein Debüt gab er mit der Glyndebourne Touring Company in der Rolle des Alfred Germont in Verdis La Traviata. Ab 1990 hat er eine Reihe wichtiger Rollen an den führenden Opernhäusern gespielt: La Scala, Covent Garden und der New York Metropolitan.

1995 gewann er einen Olivier Award für seine Darstellung des Roméo in Gounods Roméo et Juliette, die für ihre Diktion und feinen Nuancen ausgezeichnet wurde und einen Wendepunkt in seiner Karriere darstellte, der ihm seinen Platz unter den Großen des französischen Repertoires sicherte. Alagna hat sich auch lange vernachlässigten Repertoires zugewandt und sich von seinen Anfängen als lyrischer Tenor mit zunehmender Reife seiner Stimme an schwerere Spinto-Rollen wie Samson in Samson et Dalia, Canio in I Pagliacci, Mauricio in Adriana Lecouvreur und Des Grieux in Manon Lescaut gewagt.

Roberto ist für seine charismatische Bühnenpräsenz bekannt und hat durch seine Aufnahmen in einer Vielzahl unterschiedlicher Musikgenres sowie durch seine Auftritte in Filmen und Musikvideos große Popularität erlangt. Sein 2008 veröffentlichtes Album „Sicilian“ war ein großer Erfolg und erreichte mit über 350.000 verkauften Exemplaren das breite Publikum.

Roberto Alagna wurde 2008 zum Chevalier de la légion d'honneur ernannt.

Herzlichen Glückwunsch zum Geburtstag, Roberto! Wir wünschen dir Glück, Gesundheit und Erfolg! Vielen Dank für deine Bereitschaft und Entschlossenheit, deinem Publikum auf der ganzen Welt weiterhin Freude zu bereiten!

Joyeux-Jubiläum Roberto! Wir wünschen Ihnen Glück, Gesundheit und Erfolg! Merci für Ihre freiwillige und begeisterte Fortsetzung der Freude an Ihrem Publikum auf der ganzen Welt!

MARIA CANIGLIA, SOPRANO, MAY 5TH, 1905

‘I think she will do.’

So spoke the composer Mascagni, when Maria Caniglia auditioned before him as an emergency replacement for the role of Rosaura in Le Maschere. Maria was 24 years old and in her first season at La Scala and the year was 1930. The audition took place two days before the dress rehearsal.

The triumphant outcome of this rather off-hand praise depended upon the character and determination of the young singer. She learned and mastered the role in those two days, and throughout her long career Caniglia was noted for her outgoing and engaging personality. We would now recognise her as a team-player who would give all for her side. Indeed she told interviewer Lanfranco Rasponi, ‘I belong to a group of singers,…, who gave too much of themselves.’ She further, with characteristic honesty said, ‘I suffered a great deal in the theatre, for every time I conferred all my heart and soul. If toward the end my vocal resources were no longer what they had been, the public respected and loved me, because instinctively it recognised I did not spare one ounce of my being.’

Maria Caniglia was born in Naples in 1906 and studied singing at the Conservatorio di Musica San Pietro a Majella. Although engaged at La Scala for the 1930-31 season, her first professional performance took place in Turin in 1930. as Chrysothemis in Strauss’ Elektra. She sang most of the Verdi lyric-dramatic heroines, but Caniglia made her mark especially in the verismo operas which were being composed throughout this period. However, she was not confined to Italian repertoire. Early in her career she performed Senta in Der Fliegender Holländer and spoke glowingly of Wagner, ‘How marvellously Wagner wrote for the voice! But a lot of breath control is needed for the legatos and the poetical phrasing.’

She was continuously at La Scala until 1943. In the same period Maria sang at Covent Garden and New York’s Metropolitan Opera. She returned to La Scala between 1948 and 1951 after which Caniglia left for Rome as the realised that two other great sopranos were engaged for the same roles ahead of her. In Rome, such was the calibre of her performances ‘she became as big an attraction at the Opera as the Sistine Chapel was at the Vatican.’ However, she never regretted the years at La Scale and noted that, ‘In my epoch there, if we made a mistake, the conductor never called us to task but rather reprimanded the assistant who had prepared us: ‘Why didn’t Signorina Caniglia hold that breath five seconds longer?’ or something of that sort.’ Does this still happen anywhere? It seems a very different world.

Her voice was noted for its sensuous and warm timbre, which made her an ideal verismo heroine. There are a number of recordings of complete operas with Beniamino Gigli, most significantly a Tosca, Un ballo in maschera, Aida, and Andrea Chenier. According to the Grove Book of Singers, her most representative recording is in the role of Leonora in La forza del destino, ‘where her gifts as a genuine lirico spinto soprano’, are displayed.

KATHLEEN FERRIER, CONTRALTO, APRIL 22, 1912

Upon the shock announcement of her untimely death whilst at the height of her career in 1953, British contralto Kathleen Ferrier, was considered the most popular lady in Britain after the Queen. To this day the mention of her name garners great admiration and reverence amongst opera aficionados.

Ferrier grew up in the household of a school headmaster father. Her mother also possessed a strong contralto voice. Her musical aptitude was recognised at an early age, and she won awards and prizes for her piano playing, but at this stage her voice was not considered anything remarkable. When her father retired, the family were not able to afford to send her to attend music college.

On Ferrier’s career up to this point, the music biographer Humphrey Burton wrote in 1988: ‘For more than a decade, when she should have been studying music with the best teachers, learning English literature, and foreign languages, acquiring stage craft and movement skills, and travelling to London regularly to see opera, Miss Ferrier was actually answering the telephone, getting married to a bank manager and winning tinpot competitions for her piano-playing.’

But she was destined to receive much greater accolades and fame far from her initial success and become a living legend of her time with her contemporaries such as Marian Anderson claiming, ‘My God, what a voice — and what a face!’ In Vienna, the soprano Elisabeth Schwarzkopf was Ferrier’s co-soloist in a recorded performance of Bach’s Mass in B minor, with the Vienna Symphony under Herbert von Karajan. Schwarzkopf later recalled Ferrier’s singing of the Agnus Dei from the Mass as her highlight of the year.

Luckily her voice is well documented in recordings of her repertoire extending from folksong and popular ballads to the classical works of Bach, Brahms, Mahler and Elgar. She created the role of Lucretia in Benjamin Britten’s ‘The Rape of Lucretia’ at the Glyndebourne Opera Festival in 1946, and followed with Orfeo in Gluck’s Orfeo ed Eurydice. These are the only operatic roles she chose to sing, though she performed operatic arias such as Adieu Fôrets from Tchaikovsky which she performed in recital settings.

To appreciate the beauty of her voice listen to her Ombra Mai Fu by Handel or the unaccompanied Northumbrian folk song Blow the Wind Southerly.

Sadly she finally succumbed to her breast cancer diagnosis despite working through radiation treatments and previous mastectomy, even stoically finishing what was to be her last ever stage appearance, when the femur of her leg gave way during the performance due to her effects of the radiation treatment. The audience was never aware of her condition.

She passed away not long afterwards and to this day it is still speculated as to how her career could have been even greater if she had lived longer. On the final page of Neville Cardus’ compilation of memoirs, after all the lists of recordings, there is a final last observation which simply states, ‘It is tragic that no recording exists of Kathleen Ferrier’s singing of the Angel in The Dream of Gerontius.

Ferrier was awarded the CBE in 1953 and a prestigious singing competition the Kathleen Ferrier Awards is held each April in the United Kingdom open to British and International singers under the age of 28 who have already completed a year of study in UK or the Republic of Ireland, to help further their studies as a legacy to her memory.

LILY PONS, APRIL 12TH, 1898

‘Really, what made the difference and turned a success into a triumph were the high notes. That is to say: the very highest, the Ds and E flats, the E natural that would stop the show at the end of ‘Caro nome’, the Fs which because of the keys used would elevate the final utterance of Lucia,’ wrote J.B.Stearne about the ‘X-factor’ of Lily Pons.

The extraordinary career of coloratura soprano Lily Pons seems graced by good fortune. Born to parents of French-Italian extraction on the 12 April 1898 in Draguignan near Cannes, she was a piano student at the Paris Conservatoire from the age of 13. As a budding pianist, she carried off first prize in a contest at the tender age of 15, against older competitors. Nevertheless when a friend heard her sing she was persuaded to approach a famous singing teacher, Alberti de Gorostigiaga who recognised her enormous potential.

In 1928 – aged 30 – she made her operatic debut in Mulhouse in the title role of Lakmé, which would remain one of the staples of her repertoire. Pons ‘learned her trade’ in various provincial opera houses in her native France until she sang in Montpellier and was noted by the retired tenor Giovanni Zenatello and his wife Maria Gay, who immediately recognising her vocal gifts, brought her to the attention of Giulio Gatti-Casazza, then Director of the Metropolitan Opera in New York.

Gatti-Casazza in his own memoirs recalled, ‘She came here – and gave us an audition. It was extraordinary. She sang the Bell Song from “Lakmé” and several other things, and we engaged her for the following season.’ Pons was in luck as Galli-Curci had left the Met the previous season and there was no coloratura soprano. Gatti-Casazza was well aware of the treasure that had been unearthed. Again in his own words, ‘I had given strict orders to the company that no word was to be uttered about her. I wanted her to make her debut without réklame and permit the public and the critics to judge from their own reactions, without preconceived prejudices, whatever they might be…. Unfortunately, however, the news leaked out to one of the papers after Lily Pons’s dress rehearsal.
Too late! The thing was done and it was not altogether to her advantage. Nevertheless, when Lily Pons made her debut on Saturday afternoon, January 3, 1931, in “Lucia di Lammermoor,” she became instantly a success. She sang throughout the remainder of the season in a number of different operas and, each time she sang, the theatre was full in spite of the financial depression.’ Apropos the debut in Lucia, after ‘Caro nome’ the applause went on for ten minutes and at the end of the opera she took thirty curtain calls.

Lily Pons sang at the Met throughout the rest of her long career. As well as Lakmé and Lucia, her other ‘signature roles’ included Violetta, Gilda, Mignon, and Amina in la Sonnambula, and Marie in La Fille du Regiment. Such was her success that Gatti-Casazza later wrote, ‘The personality of the singer has a powerful effect on the public mind. Witness our season of 1931-32. What was our most successful opera? Was it any one of the great masterpieces? It was a charming but not profound opera which brought the greatest receipts of all. That was Délibes’s “Lakmé,” with Miss Lily Pons, the justly popular young prima donna, in the title part.’ It was surely the case that when Pons sang the world stopped to listen.

With such outstanding success Hollywood beckoned and she made several now mostly forgotten films. During the second world war she enthusiastically sang to servicemen across the world. In the judgement of Harold Simpson, ‘No other coloratura held the position of esteem Lily Pons gained in her hey-day, and it is not unlikely that she is infinitely more exciting in the flesh than her later records would convey.’ This somewhat ambiguous praise reflects a view that in her later years the recordings show a decline. We will not judge. We know that she is a superstar in the firmament of legendary singers.

Lauritz Melchior, Tenor, March 20, 1890

In Die Walküre Astrid Varnay wondered at the vocal prowess of Lauritz Melchior holding the ‘Wälse’ cries for a full twelve seconds. Varnay asked rhetorically, ‘…what tenor ever matched that? Maybe Melchior himself – he has been timed at eighteen!’

Such is the testimony of a great vocal colleague to a giant of a man and arguably the greatest of all Wagnerian tenors. But Lauritz Melchior was not always destined to be a tenor. He had started his professional career in his native Denmark at the Royal Opera in Copenhagen. Around 1916 Madame Charles Cahier, who had become by this stage a highly regarded vocal teacher, urged young Lauritz to consider switching to tenor. Madame Cahier heard something in the voice of the young baritone that indicated really a great tenor in the making. In 9 October 1918 he therefore commenced his career as a tenor with the role of Tannhäuser. Incidentally, Cahier herself had been a pupil of Jean de Reszke and in turn greatly influenced the career of Marian Anderson. We should also mention that the then well-known English novelist Hugh Walpole, supported Melchior throughout this period, arranging singing lessons with Victor Beigel in Vienna in 1922 with the purpose of ‘making him the greatest Wagner tenor in the world’, and opened the doors of society enabling him to sing before Queen Alexandra at Marlborough House. In 1924 he was engaged at Bayreuth in the Ring Cycle and proved an unforgettable Siegfried that members of the audience wept openly. Walpole had the satisfaction by 1925 of having his protege acclaimed ‘the greatest Heldentenor in the world.’

Allowing for this early adulation, Melchior remained a modest and generous colleague. Varnay later recalled her debut at New York’s Metropolitan Opera in 1942. She was the novice, thrown in at the deep end with the a who’s who list of Wagnerian greats, to sing Sieglinde, as Lotte Lehmann had a cold. Melchior’s presence, supportive attitude, and reassurance, ‘“Verlass dich auf mich”. What a beautiful thing to tell a newcomer. This great artist and gracious gentleman was telling the new kid on the block to leave things to him, and he would take care of me.’ The experience of another Wagnerian great, Kirsten Flagstad, tallies as in her memoirs she wrote, ‘I met Mr. Melchior for the first time while was rehearsing Siegfried. I had attended the rehearsal, and we were presented to one another by the manager. He was very helpful and encouraging, and as usual in excellent humour.’

Melchior’s career centred on all the demanding Heldentenor roles and his activity throughout the 1920s and 30s are a testament to his capacity, reliability and sheer artistry. He appeared in each role over 100 times and Tristan over 200 times. Such was Melchior’s fame, he appeared in five Hollywood musicals from 1945 to 1953 which has somewhat impacted his reputation among purists. But listen to his recordings and be blown away by the power and beauty. Add to this the fact that throughout his heyday no Wagner opera at a major house could do without Melchior, and you have a rare testament to a unique talent and artist.

However, as fashions change with time, in 1950 the new director of the Metropolitan Opera, Rudolf Bing moved the repertoire away from Wagner. Lauritz Melchior, who had done so much was not included in the change of direction and he could not come to terms with the new manager. To add insult to injury, the greatest Wagnerian tenor of the age was later accused by Bing of being ‘a sloppy performer with a casual attitude toward rehearsals and a penchant for practical jokes…’ Setting the record straight, Astrid Varnay wrote, “I never once witnessed the kind of conduct that Bing and Mayer claimed was so deplorable. On the contrary, no soprano could have asked for a more professional and caring tenor by her side on the stage.’ To underscore his concern for young singers and professionalism, he set up the Lauritz Melchior Heldentenor Foundation to provide scholarships for gifted singers.

Born on the 20 March 1890 in Copenhagen, Lauritz Melchior passed away on the 18 March 1973 in Santa Monica, California. There are many recording of his singing, including some from 1913 prior to his switch from baritone to tenor. His final performance was with the Danish Radio Orchestra in 1960 in celebration of his 70th birthday.

GINA CIGNA, SOPRANO, MARCH 06, 1900

‘I always preferred temperament and interpretation to voice alone.’

A child of the nascent twentieth century, Gina Cigna was born on the 6 March 1900 in Angers to parents of Italian descent. Amazingly she saw the entire century out, dying on the 26 June 2001 in Milan. With such a well-timed entrance and exit, she was doubtless destined for the stage and as a great dramatic interpreter!

Cigna was one of the most prominent Turandots of the 1930s. She was in fact the first artist to record the role of Turandot. It is claimed that she performed Turandot a total of 493 times – truly a remarkable stamina and vocal power was required for this feat. She was also one of the yardsticks by which all subsequent Normas have been measured. Another notable role was Aida, in which her Ritorna vincitor was described as a ‘searing experience’. Further superlatives were lavished upon her performance of Aida at New York’s Metropolitan Opera, a ‘beautiful, clear, pure voice,…a marvellous musician…beautiful vocal control…’ And yet there were critics as well that noted,’The voice is full and has a great range, but the emission is uneven and the agility is heavy.’ What we can be sure of, is that Cigna gave her all to performing the role and her statement in favour of interpretation over vocal perfection is testament to this. How exciting her stage presence must have been.

Initially she studied piano at the Paris Conservatoire but was heard singing by none other than the great Emma Calvé who arranged an audition with Toscanini. Remarkably, Cigna accompanied herself on the piano, playing and singing arias from Rossini and Verdi which resulted in an immediate engagement! Gina Cigna’s professional stage debut was at La Scala as Freia in Wagner’s Das Rheingold in January 1927.

Throughout the 1930s Cigna performed in Latin America, North America and Europe the many roles which she had made her own.

Tragically her career was cut short by a serious car crash in 1947 en-route to perform Tosca in Verona. She completed her performance and collapsed afterwards – she had suffered a heart attack. Cigna never sang again but began an illustrious career as a singing teacher.

ADELINA PATTI, SOPRANO, FEBRUARY 19, 1843

On the 19 February 1843 Adelina Patti was born in Madrid, the daughter of Sicilian parents, who were both professional singers, her father a tenor and her mother a soprano. With such a start no wonder the great composer Giuseppe Verdi was able to say of her, ‘She is perfectly organised. Perfect balance between singer and actress, a born artist in every sense of the word.’ Verdi when asked which three sopranos were his favourites, famously replied, ‘First, Adelina; second, Adelina; third, Adelina.’ Yet George Bernard Shaw when writing about Patti in 1888, noted that she would, ‘bow to you in the agony of stage death if you only dropped your stick accidentally.’

According to John Roselli, Patti was in real terms the highest paid opera singer in history. Patti commanded 10,000 francs per performance when average colleagues would make anything between 500 to 1,000 francs per month! She was gifted not only with a pure voice, doll-like looks and acting but, ‘a notable competence in running her career and a will of iron.’ In her heyday she was better paid than such notable thespian contemporaries, Sarah Bernhardt and Henry Irving, not to mention her operatic colleagues. What did she do with this fortune you may ask? Patti was able buy a Welsh castle, Craig-y-Nos, with her second husband and in her 150 seat private theatre perform for invited guests. This was inaugurated on 12 August 1891 with the first act of la Traviata and the third act of Faust. Patti’s husband sang the role of Mephistopheles in the latter. You can still see both the castle and theatre as its now a hotel. What is sadly also true is that although, ‘the best singers still earn well,.. the greater economic and social equality of our time is incompatible with fees at Patti level.’ But despite being lady of the manor in Craig-y-Nos, we must also remember that Adelina Patti sang an annual charity concert in Swansea

Yet it would be churlish to view Adelina Patti from the perspective of her success. In New York the conductor Giulio Arditi, in his memoirs noted the young girl, ‘first selected a comfortable seat for her doll in such proximity that she was able to see her while singing,’ and when young Adelina sang, I wept genuine tears of emotion, tears which were the outcome of the original and never-to-be-forgotten impression her voice made when it first stirred our innermost feelings…’ Whatever Patti possessed vocally, it was something any lover of classical singing must surely regret not having been able to hear. At her London debut in la Sonnambula in 1861 one critic wrote, ‘Mdlle. Patti is a triumphant refutation of the assumption that art and genius have deserted the operatic stage,’

Her career was guided from the start. Her first teacher, her brother-in-law, Maurice Strakosch, decided she must stop singing at age ten to allow her voice to develop. She did make her debut at age sixteen in the title role of Lucia di Lammermoor!

A curious incident in San Francisco in 1884 is that the greatest operatic performer of her age survived an attempt to murder her with a bomb thrown from the gallery. The terrorist threw wildly though and the bomb exploded in a box. Consummate artist that she was, her courage never failed her. She never lost her nerve in a crisis and in New Orleans, as the overcrowded gallery was starting to sink, she calmed the audience by singing’ Home, Sweet, Home’ without accompaniment allowing a safe evacuation to take place! A similar event took place in Budapest where someone had screamed out, Fire!’ and Patti calmed the audience.

Perhaps we should finish with the judgement of Eduard Hanslick, arguably the greatest music critic of the nineteenth century, ‘he had heard more brilliant voices, seen more sophisticated actresses, and more beautiful women, but Patti’s appeal consisted in making him forget them.’

Maria Callas, Sopran, 2. Dezember 1923

Maris Callas ist eine griechische Emigrantin, wurde in Griechenland gezeugt und in New York geboren. Sie wurde auf den Namen Cecilia Sophia Anna Maria Callas getauft, und ihre Namensvetterin, die heilige Cäcilia, die Schutzpatronin der Musik, kam ihr in diesem Fall besonders zugute!

Das tatsächliche Geburtsdatum ist umstritten, aber wenn man dieses Zitat aus dem Buch von Stelios Galatopoulos, Maria Callas La Divina, berücksichtigt, hat Maria das letzte Wort. „Das tatsächliche Geburtsdatum ist ungewiss. In Maria Callas‘ Reisepass ist der 2. und in Groves Wörterbuch der 3. angegeben, aber Callas‘ Mutter erinnert sich an den 4.. Callas selbst betrachtet den 4. als ihren Geburtstag, hauptsächlich, um natürlich mit ihrer Mutter übereinzustimmen, und auch, weil die heilige Barbara die Schutzpatronin der Artillerie ist, für die Callas sagt, dass sie eine besondere Verehrung empfindet.“ 

Kurz gesagt, Maria Callas war eine erstaunliche Naturgewalt. Ihr Instrument umfasste viele Stimmkategorien, die sie mit größter Kunstfertigkeit und Musikalität über das vielfältige Opernrepertoire hinweg einsetzte, das sie beherrschte, und das allen Zeugenberichten zufolge auf höchst faszinierende und absolut unvergessliche Weise.

Wenn man ihr nicht klassifizierbares Instrument klassifizieren müsste, würde es wahrscheinlich in die Kategorie Soprano dramatico d'agilitá fallen, eine Stimme mit enormem Umfang, die einen blumigen Stil mit dramatischen Akzenten beherrscht, die ihr eine sehr bewegende Klangqualität verleihen. Die Stimme besaß ein großes Volumen im Vergleich zu dem, was ein heutiger dramatischer Sopran legitimerweise aufweisen würde, sowie die umfassende Bruststimme eines echten Mezzosoprans.

Als die Leitung des Scala-Theaters ihr schließlich einen Vertrag als Primadonna in ihrem eigenen Recht nicht mehr verweigern konnte und nicht nur als Ersatz für den erkrankten und beliebtesten Star der damaligen Zeit, Renate Tebaldi,, erlangte sie schwindelerregende Höhen zum Opernstar, der weltweite Berühmtheit und Bewunderung erlangte.

Mit Callas hatte La Scala eine Sängerin, die in der Lage war, die lange vernachlässigten Belcanto-Opern wiederzubeleben. La Scala war so abhängig von Callas' Fähigkeiten, dass sie keine andere lebende Sängerin finden konnte, die die Rolle von Donizettis Anna Bolena für den geplanten Russlandbesuch 1964-1965 singen konnte. Callas lehnte die Teilnahme ab, da ihr für diese Saison keine anderen Rollen an La Scala angeboten wurden.

Ihre Stimme und Mystik haben dazu geführt, dass viele Bücher, Theorien und Filme über sie gedreht wurden.

Um eine Vorstellung von der Aufsehen erregenden Wirkung zu vermitteln, die sie auslöste, lassen wir andere, die sie kannten und ihre Auftritte miterlebten, in Erinnerungen schwelgen.

Als Giuseppe di Stefano, sein Freund und die andere Hälfte des Opern-Dreamteams, das er mit Callas bildete, in einem Interview gebeten wurde, seine beiden Hauptdarstellerinnen zu vergleichen, antwortete er: „Tebaldi hatte die schönste Stimme der Welt“, sagt er. „Maria hatte vier verschiedene Stimmen, aber sie war die ausdrucksstärkste Sängerin, die ich je erlebt habe. Sie war eine wahre Künstlerin. Sie sorgte für Schlagzeilen, aber sie wollte immer nur als ‚die Andere‘ behandelt werden (der im Tebaldi/Callas-Lager gebräuchliche Begriff für die gegensätzliche Diva).“

Madame Biki, eine der berühmtesten Modeschöpferinnen Italiens in den 40er-60er-Jahren, entwarf für Maria Callas und trug dazu bei, dass Callas zu einer Stilikone ihrer Zeit wurde. Der Name Biki war übrigens der Spitzname, den ihr Stiefgroßvater ihr gab, der kein anderer als Giacomo Puccini selbst war. Im Vorwort zu Maria Callas La Divina schrieb sie: „Mode: Das ist der Grund, warum Maria zuerst zu mir kam, und das war keineswegs ein unbedeutender oder irrelevanter Grund. Die Eleganz der Callas, sowohl auf der Bühne als auch im Leben, war einer ihrer vielen Triumphe. Maria Callas ist eine herausragende Persönlichkeit: ein Leben auf dem Höhepunkt. Sie ist vergleichbar mit Persönlichkeiten unserer Zeit wie Picasso, Cocteau und Chaplin, denn in ihrer Kunst übt sie denselben revolutionären und aufregenden Einfluss aus, den diese in ihrer Kunst hatten und haben. Und wie alle von ihnen hat sie Kunst und Leben nie nach zwei verschiedenen Maßstäben beurteilt. In der Kunst – wie im Leben – gibt es keinen Unterschied zwischen kleineren und größeren Dingen. „Alles ist wichtig.“

Von Michael Scott, dem Opernregisseur und Callas-Biografen, erfahren wir folgende erstaunliche Anekdote: „Der große Wendepunkt in Callas‘ Karriere ereignete sich 1949 in Venedig. Sie sollte die Rolle der Brünnhilde in Die Walküre am Teatro la Fenice singen, als Margherita Carosio, die im selben Theater die Elvira in I puritani singen sollte, erkrankte. Da er keinen Ersatz für Carosio finden konnte, teilte Serafin Callas mit, dass sie die Elvira in sechs Tagen singen würde; als Callas protestierte, dass sie die Rolle nicht nur nicht kenne, sondern auch noch drei weitere Brünnhildes zu singen habe, sagte er ihr: „Das garantiere ich Ihnen.“ In den Worten von Michael Scott: „Die Vorstellung, dass eine Sängerin in derselben Karriere Musikstücke mit so unterschiedlichen stimmlichen Anforderungen wie Wagners Brünnhilde und Bellinis Elvira singen könnte, wäre Grund genug für Überraschungen gewesen; aber der Versuch, sie beide in derselben Saison zu sangen, schien eine Größenwahnvorstellung zu sein.“ Scott behauptete: „Von all den vielen Rollen, die Callas übernahm, ist es fraglich, ob eine eine weitreichendere Wirkung hatte.“ Dieser erste Ausflug in das Belcanto-Repertoire veränderte den Lauf von Callas‘ Karriere und brachte sie auf einen Weg, der zu Lucia di Lammermoor, La traviata, Armida, La sonnambula, Il pirata, Il turco in Italia, Medea und Anna Bolena führte, und weckte erneut ihr Interesse an den lange vernachlässigten Opern von Cherubini, Bellini, Donizetti und Rossini.‘

Es ist bekannt, dass Callas mit dem Film- und Opernregisseur Franco Zeffirelli zusammenarbeitete und ihn bewunderte. Er fasste ihren künstlerischen Charakter folgendermaßen zusammen: „Hinter den Kulissen ist Maria ein ganz normales Mädchen, aber wenn sie auf die Bühne geht oder sogar über ihre Arbeit spricht oder anfängt, eine Melodie zu summen, nimmt sie sofort diese zusätzliche Qualität an.“

Für mich ist Maria immer ein Wunder. Man kann sie weder verstehen noch erklären. Man kann alles erklären, was [Laurence] Olivier tut, denn es ist alles Teil eines professionellen Genies. Aber Maria kann von nichts zu allem wechseln, von der Erde zum Himmel. Was hat diese Frau? Ich weiß es nicht, aber wenn dieses Wunder geschieht, ist sie eine neue Seele, ein neues Wesen.‘

Sir Rudolf Bing, Direktor der Metropolitan Opera, drückte ähnliche Gefühle aus: „Wenn man Maria Callas einmal in einer Rolle gehört und gesehen hat – man kann es nicht wirklich unterscheiden –, war es danach sehr schwer, irgendeine andere Künstlerin zu genießen, egal wie großartig sie war, weil sie jeder Rolle, die sie sang und spielte, eine so unglaubliche Persönlichkeit und Leben einhauchte. Eine Bewegung ihrer Hand war mehr, als eine andere Künstlerin in einem ganzen Akt tun könnte.“
Der Dirigent Carlo Maria Giulini erinnerte sich: „Es ist sehr schwierig, über die Stimme der Callas zu sprechen. Ihre Stimme war ein ganz besonderes Instrument. Bei Streichinstrumenten – Geige, Bratsche, Cello – passiert manchmal etwas: Wenn man den Klang dieses Instruments zum ersten Mal hört, ist das erste Gefühl manchmal etwas seltsam. Aber nach nur wenigen Minuten, wenn man sich daran gewöhnt hat, wenn man sich mit dieser Art von Klang angefreundet hat, dann bekommt der Klang eine magische Qualität. Das war Callas.“

Der Biograph Stelios Galatopolous, der Callas‘ italienisches Debüt in „La Gioconda“ in Verona im Jahr 1947 und ihr Debüt in Covent Garden als Norma im Jahr 1952 sowie über einhundert ihrer Auftritte miterlebte, erinnerte sich in seinem Buch: „Am 8. November 1952 gab Callas ihr Londoner Debüt und sorgte in Bellinis „Norma“ für eine Sensation, von der noch viele Jahre später diejenigen sprachen, die die Aufführungen als das Größte betrachteten, was sie jemals auf der Opernbühne gehört hatten.“

„Dennoch gab es einen Kritiker, der nicht bedingungslos aufgeben wollte. Der verstorbene Ernest Newman war nach der Vorstellung im Foyer von Covent Garden von einer Menschenmenge umringt, die seine Meinung hören wollte. Schließlich war er [damals] der älteste Musikkritiker in London und der einzige, der einige der großen Normas der Vergangenheit gehört hatte. Newman sagte sehr wenig: „Sie war wunderbar, wirklich wunderbar.“ Und dann hob er seinen Regenschirm und sagte mit fast hoher Stimme: „Aber sie ist keine Ponselle.“‘

Sogar bei ihren letzten Opernauftritten, als man feststellte, dass sie nicht mehr über ihre volle Stimmkraft verfügte, konnte sie immer noch Bewunderung von höchster Ebene auf sich ziehen. 1965 beschrieb „Clarendon, der vielleicht bedeutendste Musikkritiker Frankreichs, die Aufführung als ein unvergessliches Theatererlebnis. Ich habe Puccinis Tosca viele Male gesehen – Hunderte, aber letzte Nacht war ich überzeugt, dass es wirklich das erste Mal war“, schrieb er.

1969 besetzte der italienische Filmemacher Pier Paolo Pasolini Callas in seinem gleichnamigen Film in ihrer einzigen nicht-opernhaften Schauspielrolle als griechische mythologische Figur Medea. Der Film war kein kommerzieller Erfolg, aber als Callas‘ einziger Filmauftritt dokumentiert er etwas von ihrer Bühnenpräsenz.
Von Oktober 1971 bis März 1972 gab Callas eine Reihe von Meisterkursen an der Juilliard School in New York. Diese Kurse bildeten später die Grundlage für Terrence McNallys Theaterstück Master Class aus dem Jahr 1995.
Callas gab 1973 eine Reihe gemeinsamer Konzerte in Europa und 1974 in den USA, Südkorea und Japan mit dem Tenor Giuseppe di Stefano. Aus kritischer Sicht war dies ein musikalisches Desaster, da beide Interpreten nicht mehr auf dem Höhepunkt ihrer Leistungsfähigkeit waren.
Trotzdem war die Tournee ein enormer Publikumserfolg. Das Publikum strömte herbei, um die beiden Künstler zu hören, die in ihrer Blütezeit so oft zusammen aufgetreten waren. Ihr letzter öffentlicher Auftritt war am 11. November 1974 in Sapporo, Japan. Callas und di Stefano hätten Ende 1975 in Japan in vier Bühnenaufführungen von Tosca zusammen auftreten sollen, aber Callas sagte ab.
Traurigerweise verstarb sie nach einem relativ frühen Rückzug von der Bühne 1977 im Alter von 53 Jahren in Paris. Ihre Asche wurde nach Griechenland zurückgebracht und in der Ägäis verstreut.

2007 erhielt Callas posthum den Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award. Im selben Jahr wurde sie vom BBC Music Magazine zur größten Sopranistin aller Zeiten gewählt.

Auch in jüngerer Zeit fasziniert die Callas die Welt noch immer. 2017 drehte der Filmregisseur Tom Volf den französischen Dokumentarfilm Maria by Maria, der auf Interviews, Briefen und Auftritten basiert und ihre Geschichte erzählt. 2024 feierte das Biopic Callas, gespielt von Angelina Jolie und unter der Regie von Pablo Larraín, seine Weltpremiere bei den Filmfestspielen von Venedig, wo Jolie acht Minuten stehende Ovationen erhielt, die an die von „La Divina“ auf dem Höhepunkt ihres Ruhms erinnerten.