LEGENDARY SINGERS - The Voice Detective

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.’

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, JUNE 07, 1963

“I have never particularly believed in astrology, but experts have always stated that I have all the characteristic of Gemini: very sociable, also very adaptable. So it was preordained from my birth that I would be capable of all the twists and turns, all the roles!”

“Je n’ai jamais particulièrement cru à l’astrology, mais les spécialistes ont toujours affirmé que j’ai toutes les caractéristiques des Gémeaux : très sociable, aussi très adaptable. Il était donc écrit dès ma naissance, que je serais capable de tous les rebondissements, de tous les rôles !

Singing is in the Franco-Sicilian tenor Roberto Alagna’s blood. His illustrious maternal great-grandfather Jimmy sang for the great Enrico Caruso when the the maestro happened to drop by one day in his wallet shop in New York City, U.S.A., and Enrico was so impressed that he suggested Jimmy audition for the Metropolitan Opera Chorus! What a complement! (although Jimmy declined the suggestion of the maestro—or the “Commendatore”, “the Commander” as Jimmy endearingly liked to call him—as he preferred to focus on his business.)

Roberto ’s vocal mentor Rafael Ruiz, was a direct student of the legendary Italian tenor Aureliano Pertile (1885-1952). It was that fact that caught the attention of Luciano Pavarotti when Roberto met him at an LP signing event at the Printemps department store in Paris. A year later, without knowing it, Roberto was invited to audition in the first round of the the Pavarotti International Voice Competition in Pesaro, Italy, the birthplace of legendary nineteenth century composer Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868). He sang his good luck song ‘La Danza’ from Rossini for Luciano and thought that he’d been disqualified as Luciano didn’t permit him to sing a second piece for him as did all the other participants. Au contraire, Luciano loved his voice and he was qualified to the next round. Indeed years later, Saimir Pirgu, an Albanian tenor, who studied with Luciano told Roberto something he didn’t know about Luciano: “every time we took lessons with Luciano, he spoke of only one tenor, Roberto, and he would say ‘here take this LP and sing like this”.

After winning the Pavarotti International Voice Competition in Philadelphia—the hometown of Mario Lanza—in 1988, Roberto’s career really skyrocketed.

He made his debut with the Glyndebourne Touring Company in the role of Alfred Germont in Verdi’s La Traviata. From 1990 onwards, he has performed a series of major roles, respectively at the leading opera houses; La Scala, Covent Garden and the New York Metropolitan.

In 1995 he won an Olivier Award for his performance of Roméo in Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette which was singled out for its diction and fine nuances, and was a turning point in his career giving him his place with the the greats of the French repertoire. Alagna also has sought out long neglected repertory to perform, and has from his lyric tenor beginnings has as his voice matured, ventured into the heavier spinto roles such as Samson in Samson et Dalia, Canio in I Pagliacci, Mauricio in Adriana Lecouvreur and Des Grieux in Manon Lescaut.

Roberto is known for his charismatic stage presence and has obtained widespread popularity through his recording a variety of diverse music genres, not to mention, his appearances in films and music videos. His album ‘Sicilian’ released in 2008 was a huge success and reached the popular audience with sales over 350,000.

Roberto Alagna was appointed a Chevalier de la légion d’honneur in 2008.

Happy birthday Roberto! We wish you happiness, health and success! Thank you for your willingness and determination to continue bringing joy to your audiences around the world!

Joyeux anniversaire Roberto! Nous vous souhaitons bonheur, santé et succès! Merci de votre volonté et enthousiasme de continuer à apporter de la joie à votre public du monde entier!

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, Soprano, December 02, 1923

Of Greek emigré parentage, Maris Callas was conceived in Greece and born in New York. She was baptised Cecilia Sophia Anna Maria Callas, her namesake St.Cecilia the patron saint of music serving her in this case particularly well!

The actual date of birth is disputed, but considering this quote from the book by Stelios Galatopoulos, Maria Callas La Divina, Maria will have the final word. ‘The actual birth is uncertain. Maria Callas’ passport gives the date as the 2nd, and Groves dictionary the 3rd, but Callas’ mother remembers the 4th. Callas herself considers the 4th as her birthday primarily in order to agree, naturally, with her mother and also because St. Barbara is the patron saint of artillery for whom Callas says she has a special devotion.’

Simply said, Maria Callas was an amazing force of nature. Her instrument spanned many voice categories which she used with the greatest artistry and musicality over the diverse operatic repertoire she mastered and from all witness accounts in a most mesmerising way and utterly unforgettable.

If one had to classify her unclassifiable instrument it may have fallen into that of soprano dramatico d’agilitá, which is a voice of enormous range, capable of the florid style simultaneously accomplished with dramatic accentuations that gives it a very moving quality of tone. The voice possessed great volume compared with that, that a present-day dramatic soprano would legitimately exhibit as well as the extensive chest voice quality of a true mezzo-soprano.

When La Scala management eventually could no longer deny her a contract as a prima donna in her own right and not just as a jump-in substitution for their indisposed most popular and loved star at the time Renate Tebaldi, she rose to the dizzying heights of operatic stardom of world-wide fame and adulation.

La Scala had in Callas a singer capable of reviving the long neglected bel canto operas. So dependent was La Scala on Callas’ skills, that they could find no other living singer to sing the role of Donizetti’s Anna Bolena for the planned 1964-1965 visit to Russia which Callas declined to participate in, when she was not offered any other roles at La Scala for that season.

Her voice and mystique has resulted in many books, theories and films being made about her.

To give an idea of the sensation and impact she created we let others recollect who knew her and witnessed her performances.

Giuseppe di Stefano, friend and the other half of the operatic dream team he formed with Callas, when asked in an interview to compare his two leading ladies, replied, ’Tebaldi had the most beautiful voice in the world,” he says, “Maria had four different voices, but she was the most expressive singer I ever experienced. She was a true artist. She attracted news stories but she always only wanted to be treated like ‘The Other One’ (the common term used by the Tebaldi/Callas camps for the opposing diva).’

Madame Biki one of the most famous couturiers in Italy from the 1940s-1960s, designed for Maria Callas and played a part in Callas becoming a style icon of the time. Incidentally, the name Biki, was the nickname given her by step-grandfather who was none other than Giacomo Puccini himself. She wrote in the forward of Maria Callas La Divina, ‘Fashion: this is the reason Maria first came to me, and by no means a trifling or irrelevant reason. The elegance of Callas, both on the stage and in life, has been one of her many triumphs. Maria Callas is an outstanding character: a life lived at the summit. She is comparable to such figures of our time as Picasso, Cocteau and Chaplin, for in her art she has the same revolutionary and exciting influence they had and have in theirs. And, like all of them, she never judged art and life by two different standards. In art- as in life- there is no distinction between lesser and greater things. Everything is important.’

From Michael Scott opera director and Callas biographer, we find the following amazing anecdote, ‘The great turning point in Callas’ career occurred in Venice in 1949. She was engaged to sing the role of Brünnhilde in Die Walküre at the Teatro la Fenice, when Margherita Carosio, who was engaged to sing Elvira in I puritani in the same theatre, fell ill. Unable to find a replacement for Carosio, Serafin told Callas that she would be singing Elvira in six days; when Callas protested that she not only did not know the role, but also had three more Brünnhildes to sing, he told her “I guarantee that you can.” In Michael Scott’s words, “the notion of any one singer embracing music as divergent in its vocal demands as Wagner’s Brünnhilde and Bellini’s Elvira in the same career would have been cause enough for surprise; but to attempt to assay them both in the same season seemed like folie de grandeur”. Scott asserted that “Of all the many roles Callas undertook, it is doubtful if any had a more far-reaching effect.” This initial foray into the bel canto repertoire changed the course of Callas’ career and set her on a path leading to Lucia di Lammermoor, La traviata, Armida, La sonnambula, Il pirata, Il turco in Italia, Medea, and Anna Bolena, and reawakened interest in the long-neglected operas of Cherubini, Bellini, Donizetti and Rossini.’

It is well known that Callas worked with and admired the film and opera director Franco Zeffirelli. He summed her artistic character up with, ‘Maria is a common girl behind the wings, but when she goes onstage, or even when she talks about her work or begins to hum a tune, she immediately assumes this additional quality.

For me, Maria is always a miracle. You cannot understand or explain her. You can explain everything [Laurence] Olivier does because it is all part of a professional genius. But Maria can switch from nothing to everything, from earth to heaven. What is it this woman has? I don’t know, but when that miracle happens, she is a new soul, a new entity.’

Sir Rudolf Bing, Metropolitan Opera director expressed similar sentiments, ‘Once one heard and seen Maria Callas—one can’t really distinguish it—in a part, it was very hard to enjoy any other artist, no matter how great, afterwards, because she imbued every part she sang and acted with such incredible personality and life. One move of her hand was more than another artist could do in a whole act.’
The conductor Carlo Maria Giulini, recalled, ‘It is very difficult to speak of the voice of Callas. Her voice was a very special instrument. Something happens sometimes with string instruments—violin, viola, cello—where the first moment you listen to the sound of this instrument, the first feeling is a bit strange sometimes. But after just a few minutes, when you get used to it, when you become friends with this kind of sound, then the sound becomes a magical quality. This was Callas.’

Biographer Stelios Galatopolous who witnessed Callas’ Italian Debut in La Gioconda in Verona in 1947 and her Covent Garden debut as Norma in 1952, as well as over one hundred of her performances, recollected in his book, ‘On 8th November 1952 Callas made her London debut creating a sensation in Bellini’s Norma which was talked about many years after by those who saw the performances as the greatest thing they had ever heard on the operatic stage.’

‘Still there was one critic who would not surrender unconditionally. The late Ernest Newman, in the Covent Garden foyer after the performance, found himself surrounded by a crowd of people who wanted to hear his opinion. After all, [at that time] he was the eldest music critic in London, and the only one who had heard some of the great Normas of the past. Newman said very little: “She was wonderful, truly wonderful.” And then raising his umbrella and almost in a high pitched voice: “But she is not a Ponselle.”’

Even at the time of her final operatic performances when it was observed she was longer at her full vocal powers, she could still draw admiration from the highest level. In 1965 ‘Clarendon, possibly France’s most eminent music critic, described the performance an unforgettable theatrical experience. I have seen Puccini’s Tosca many times- hundreds, but last night I was convinced it was really the first time, he wrote.’

In 1969, the Italian filmmaker Pier Paolo Pasolini cast Callas in her only non-operatic acting role, as the Greek mythological character of Medea, in his film by that name. The film was not a commercial success, but as Callas’ only film appearance, it documents something of her stage presence.
From October 1971 to March 1972, Callas gave a series of master classes at the Juilliard School in New York. These classes later formed the basis of Terrence McNally’s 1995 play Master Class.
Callas staged a series of joint recitals in Europe in 1973 and in the U.S., South Korea, and Japan in 1974 with the tenor Giuseppe di Stefano. Critically, this was a musical disaster owing to both performers’ no longer being at their peak .
Nevertheless, the tour was an enormous popular success. Audiences thronged to hear the two performers, who had so often appeared together in their prime. Her final public performance was on 11 November 1974, in Sapporo, Japan. Callas and di Stefano were to have appeared together in four staged performances of Tosca in Japan in late 1975 but Callas cancelled.
Sadly after a relatively early retirement from the stage she died in Paris in 1977 at the age of 53 and her ashes returned to Greece and scattered in the Aegean Sea.

In 2007, Callas was posthumously awarded the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award. In the same year, she was voted the greatest soprano of all time by BBC Music Magazine.

More recently Callas still continues to fascinate the world. In 2017 the film director Tom Volf made the French documentary Maria by Maria based on interviews, letters and performances to tell her story and in 2024 the biopic Callas played by Angelina Jolie and directed by Pablo Larraín had its world premiere at the Venice Film Festival where Jolie received an eight minute standing ovation reminiscent of ‘La Divina’s’ at the height of her fame.