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MY
LIFE OF
SONG
TETRAZZINI
MY
LIFE OF
BY
SONG
MADAME TETRAZZINI
Frontispiece
and
Half-tone Plates
PHILADELPHIA
DORRANCE
& COMPANY, INC.
COPYRIGHT 1922 DORRANCE & COMPANY IHC PUBLISHERS
USA
OCT 26 \9t9
All persons, of
creeds,
all races,
tongues and
who have honored
to
me by
who,
like
listening
my
voice and
me, regard music as the
choicest of God's gifts
to
mankindI
dedicate this
book
LUISA TETRAZZINI
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
PAGE
PATTI'S
DEATH AND MY BIRTH
.
.
11 27 41 57
JOYS AND SORROWS OF SCHOOL III. PREPARING FOR MY DEBUT IV. PRIMA DONNA AT SIXTEEN V. THE QUEEN'S PROPHECY
II.
.
.
... ...
. .
....
.
71
86
VI. I TURN IMPRESARIO VII. PRISON AND SEA ADVENTURES VIII. A WILD LOYER AND A JEALOUS DIVA IX. CONQUEST OF MEXICO X.. A RUNAWAY IMPRESARIO XI. LONDON'S CALL XII. MY Bow TO LONDON XIII. FIRST FRUITS OP WORLD FAME XIV. P'ATTI'S SMILE XV. MY CLASSIC .FIGHT WITH HAMMER-
102
117
136
155
....
.
173
191
.
206
221 236
STEIN
.
256 XVI. WELCOMED AT THE WHITE HOUSE XVII. ENVY, INGRATITUDE AND BLACKMAIL 277 295 XVIII. MY LOST FRIENDS
XIX. ADVICE
TO
YOUNG SINGERS Au
307
321
BEVOIR INDEX
ILLUSTRATIONS
MADAM w THTRA^^INI MADAMM TKTBA^INI
.
,
.
.
Frontispiece
AS 'VLAKMM," IK
A
THB
48
OrEBA OF DKLIBMH
AH "LucrA," THK FA^IOITH R< >LK IN WHICH THK DIVA MADK UKK SOUTH* AMERICAN DEBUT
164 284
284
MAD AM w
TKTIUZZINI AND THE QOVBKNOU OF
(JAT.TFOBNIA
MWKMJ TO AMKIUCU
MY LIFE OF
SONG.
MY
LIFE
OF SONG
I
OHAPTEE
PATTI'S
DEATH AND
MY
BIKTH
recital in Leeds,
was
at the conclusion of
my
journalist, hatless and breathless, rushed excitedly into dressing-room: exclaim
ITEngland,
A
that I first heard the solemn news.
young
my
ing:
"Madame
Tetrazzini, Patti is dead.
What
are
your impressions on her death?" All day I had been uneasy. While I was sing ing to that crowded hall, and even as I responded to the generous applause of the audience, I was conscious of an insistent foreboding of an impend ing loss. Mothers have spoken to me of similar
a presentiments experienced about the time that tragedy has happened to a beloved son or daugh
ter
;
wives have told
me how,
during the late war,
they knew intuitively of the death of their hus bands long before the news arrived from the De partment of War.
and death distance seems unable to separate great souls which have a strong bond of sympathy uniting them, and I sometimes wonder if the spirit of Patti, our Queen of Song,
In times of
crisis
11
12
My
Life of
Song
were actually in the hall on that memorable Sep tember day of 1919 in Leeds. What else could have accounted for my strange uneasiness ? My thoughts went swiftly back to the time of
v
met the great Patti, and when she, noble soul, told me tKat I had won by merit the crown that she had laid aside. The plaudits of the audience still echoing
my London
debut,
when I
first
through the building as the journalist entered with his tragic news the journalist himself, my friends and the cold room, all vanished from my perception. All I remember is that I felt cold and unutterably sad, and that I was sobbing. For three days I spent most of my waking hours weep ing over the loss of the one who was the world's nightingale and my inspiration, and for weeks I still felt the strain of the shock of Patti *s
death.
Garibaldi, Napoleon, Wellington, Nelson or Columbus appeal to ambitious young soldiers and
As
Patti has ever been to me my highest I used to think of her as a beggar-boy ideal. would think of an emperora majestic being,
sailors, so
more divine than human, so exalted that it was almost sacrilege to speak her name. Apart from the members of my own family, the first name that I heard to remember was the magic name of
Shall I ever forget the first time I heard it or the strange thrill which ran through rny young being as the full purport of it was made
Patti.
plain to
my
eager, childish
mind?
Patti's
Death and
My
Birth
13
It
was
at our house in Florence.
The family
were all in the sitting-room. My mother, busy and gentle as always, was sitting on one side of the fire, sewing; opposite her was my father,
comfortably reclining in his easy chair. Between them, rolled into a fluffy ball on the rug, was our
tortoise-shell cat, quietly purring.
The piano, an instrument which through too frequent use was often getting out of tune but was nevertheless an excellent friend to us all, stood in the far corner. My sister Eva, nine years older than myself, was playing something from one of the operas. I, the baby and, I have been told, a general favorite, could not have been more than four or five years old at the time, but I remember toddling over to
the piano and saying, "Let baby sing." 77 "Yes, said my mother, looking up sewing, "play for baby."
from her
played slowly, and I sang the notes. The words I did not know, nor do I recollect the
My
sister
air.
The notes came
to
me
very readily as
we
went through the
ished, I asked
my
the air was fin piece. sister to play it over once more,
When
and she
I remember that my mother and my other sister, Elver a, four years older than I, ex 77 as I finished singing. claimed, "Bravo, bravo! But my father! He called me over to him, took
did.
me on
young "Baby, I
his knee, face.
and lovingly caressed
my plump
believe that you'll be a Patti somie
day," he said.
My
"
Life of
Song
What's Patti?" I asked, looldng mystified. Then he told me in baby language all about the great Patti. She was, he said, a fine lady whose name was known all over the earth as having the most wonderful voice, even as Christopher Col umbus was known as a wonderful sailor who went out in a little ship and found a new world. He said there were many queens, one in every coun try, but there was only one Queen of Song. Wherever the kings and queens went great crowds of people came from everywhere to see them, and wherever Patti went there were great crowds who used to stand all day, sometimes in the rain and
?
snow, in the street outside the world's singinghouses, to hear her sing. She had lovely horses,
lovely jewels, lovely palaces, loved and envied her.
and
all
the world
she sang, he said, she made the people forget everything that was horrid and bad, and think only of the sweet and beautiful. He said that everyone who loved singing dreamed of being
like Patti.
When
To have a
voice like Patti
was
to
walk
about with heaven inside. As he spoke my eyes must have opened very wide, as children's eyes do
when they hear
a wonderful story. try to be a Patti, daddy," I ex claimed, using a phrase similar to this if not ac father hugged me close to tually the words.
"Den me
My
his broad chest and, still caressing declared his firm belief that one
my hair,
again
day I should be
as
famous as his
ideal.
Patti's
Death and
My
Birth
15
During those early years I often had little day dreams originated by this early scene, and the re membrance of my father's stirring words was the
I built big air castles for myself. I pictured myself standing in the world's opera [houses singing out my soul to vast crowds of happy
starting-point.
people, and making them all feel that they were in heaven. And then I would come back to earth as my mother called me to wash the tea-things or
<to
help her in preparing the beds for the family
at night.
Like &o miany other Italian households, ours was a musical home in the fullest sense. My mother had a sweet voice which, whether she was speak
ing or singing, always delighted my extremely sensitive ear. But she had never sung in public nor undergone a training. She knew all the old
Italian lullabies,
and used
to sing
me
to sleep
with
them when
I was an infant.
birth
My
father
had a good
ear, but no voice.
Even my
was heralded by music.
My
parents have often told me of the significant hap pening a few moments after my advent. It was a festival day in Florence. Our apartment, which was on the ground and first floor of a big block of
when he heard the measured tramp of marching men com ing from the street below. He ran to the open window and saw an Italian military band in gay uniform passing the house. The band had just
dwellings, overlooked the highway. had just been inform'ed of my arrival
My
father
16
My
Life of
Song
father finished playing a popular march. recognized in the commanding officer one of his
My
many military friends, and
the news that a
little girl
excitedly shouted
down
had just been born to The officer waved his the family of Tetrazzini. baton in congratulation. Then he halted his men, formed them in a circle below our dwelling, and ordered them to play an appropriate little tune. If I could have ordered the arrangements for the beginning of my life, I could not have planned a
scene quite so pleasing to myself or as this little unrehearsed event.
my
life
parents
of song,
Thus
began.
my life, which has ever been
Some prime donne have
a
first
had aspira
which
tions for other of life's sweets than those
they subsequently gained in the realms of music. Some have pined to be great painters, some to be great writers, some to be ladies of rank, some to be renowned beauties, some to marry kings. It was not so with me. For me, to sing was to live not to sing was to die. I used to sing as I awoke
;
my mother dressed me with her as I sat at meals, as I ran about patient hands, our little apartment, as I scrubbed the floors and
in
my
cot,
as
streets of
cleaned the silver, as I walked the Old World my native Florence or wandered down
by the river banks and plucked the wild flowers
growing there. If I could have done so, I should have written this life in the language of song. When at my kindergarten school I used to im provise music to the words with which I answered
Patti's
Death and
My
Birth
17
my
sometimes to her great annoyance and my subsequent physical discom fiture many times have I had my knuckles rapped for singing when I should have been studying. I have sung my way all through life. When trouble and bereavement have clouded my day, I have stilled my aching heart with song. When I have been ill, I have sung on my sick-bed and
teacher's questions
;
allayed my physical pains thereby. Nothing but the loss of my voice will ever stop m:e from singing. I think I shall try to sing to my nurse on my dying bed. Once I was playing in the field with some of the
partially
boys and girls of the neighborhood, and was sing ing to them as we played. One of the thoughtless lads, for a frolic, caught a grasshopper and put it down my sleeve. I was a temperamental little miss, much afraid of nasty insects, and this boy's sudden caprice gave my whole system a heavy shock. The physical disturbance it caused affected my eyes; a film) came over them, and for two months I had to be kept in a dark room. The doc tor feared that I should lose my sight. Though I did not see the sun or any light for all this time, I sang my way through the long, weary hours of The neighbors could hear my voice, darkness. " and used to speak of "the little blind nightingale.
During those days
confident of
my
with
me and
father, ever kindly and future, used to spend many hours cheer me with his visions of the
my
his golden days that were in store for
little Patti.
18
My
Life of
Song
my
life that It is one of the greatest sorrows of father did not live to see his unshakable faith
my
justified.
years before my debut he passed away. I was then only fourteen years of age. There is one little feature of my childhood con cerning which members of my family still speak
Two
when
of
my love for song. At one period mother always allotted to me the my my of sweeping and scrubbing all the stairs in duty Sometimes I used to protest, as our, apartment. the task was not the pleasantest of all the house*
telling of
life
other protests of mother were favorably considered.
hold duties.
one.
Many
mine to my Not BO this
One day my mother explained the reason was because 1 had a habit of selecting an why act from one of the great operas and singing it
:
it
through during
my
work,
all
I used to take the four
parts and sing thorn
bans, tenor, contralto,
and
soprano. My mother declared that the time when I was cleaning the stairs was the happiest hour of
her day,
Sometimes when singing before very fashionable audiences at Go vent Garden, London, or the Met ropolitan Opera House, Now York* those operas that I used to sing when cleaning the stairs of our Florence home, I feel amused at the contrast, and wonder what my auditors would say if they could have seen me in those happy early days. Some* times I forget my audiences and am back again in spirit in the old home. I can see my mother busy arranging the meals, the neighbors at their win-
Patti's
Death and
My
Birth
19
dows, the postman coming down the street, and the purring cat on the rug at the bottom of the steps. It is not until the end -of the aria or some movement by the audience recalls me to myself that I realize
what
actually happening. Though I have no great desire to return to
is
my
childhood and go through my life again, I can say truthfully that my early days were very happy. I do not look back, as some international prime
donne have done, to a home of poverty and early struggles to keep the hungry wolf from the door. My father used to supply to the Italian Govern ment the uniforms for the army officers, and so earned a comfortable living for our family. Hav ing a good head for figures, I used to help him with his books, for which he would allow me a tiny sum, about two cents daily, as pin-rctoney. I subsequently found that my love for and ability with figures was very useful in dealing with the business side of my profession. There are hard
impresarios who are all too eager to dip deeply into the first scanty earnings of young singers. Others go farther and demand premiums from
promising
artists for giving
them the opportunity
of singing in public. In a later chapter I shall devote more space to impresarios and how I fought them, I am afraid that the assistance I gave my father
was not always helpful
powerful appeal to
to his business.
The gay
the same
uniform's of the Italian officers
made
my
girlish love of color
and
20
My
Life of
Song
smart appearance as they do to most inaidetis. Many a new uniform subsequently worn by a stem Italian general or smart young subaltern had its first airing around the figure of tomboy Tetrazjrini, The cock's plumes in the hats of the Bcrsaglieri were great favorites of mine. In my spare mo ments I would try on these hats, and oftentimes would be seen walking in the streets of Florence
wearing the familiar headdress of this regiment, I had a glorioxis afternoon during one of the carnivals. Attired in the gay uniform of the sharp shootersas the Bcnnglieri were familiarly termed with the shimmering dark-green cock's feathers circling down to below my shoulders, I went out to join in the general gaiety of the town, My father, who was with me, far front discourag ing me, joined heartily in my frolics. He walked
behind while
T,
lant, saluted sonic of the maidens o tance without revealing my identity.
assuming the role of a young gal my acquain 1 had con
cocted a
love speech for the benefit of each* "Oh, fair maiden, thou sweetest girl in Flor ** ence, may I offer thee my hand and my heart!
little
was my opening greeting* After a low how I would ask the young damsel I was addressing to be allowed to walk with her to tell her more of the love which I had long felt toward her- Some of these girl chums would haughtily toss their heads and walk away. Others gave me a better reception. One of my dearest friends allowed ma to walk by her side for a long diatanee while pour*
Patti's
Death and
My
Birth
21
ing out my love-sick soul until she discovered that I was none other than her little friend, Luisa Tetrazzini. I suppose that she was justified in the outburst of indignation which followed her recog
nition of the imposture. watching the proceedings
Meanwhile my father, from behind, was laugh
ing heartily at spirited fun. On another fes tival occasion I selected as a companion a very
my
grubby street-boy who made a living by selling pumpkin seeds, and who seemed to be as over
whelmed at the interest that I displayed in him, as were some of my friends. One of the great days of the year in Florence was that of the masked ball of the carnival season. The first of these that 1 was allowed to attend saw
also
my
first
success in public.
I donned the
cut-away coat, tight nankeen breeches, light waistcoat, high black boots, and cocked hat. We had a picture of Napoleon at our
dress of Napoleon
house, and I stood before this picture to practice the characteristic Napoleonic pose before leaving for the ball, Arrived at the ballroom, I strutted about, one hand thrust over my heart, the other
all.
and There was general merriment wherever I went, and when the time came to announce the prize winner I heard with a joyous leap of my heart that little Tetrazzini had been allotted the highest award, Otar whole family mfade merry at my suc We danced on and on until I felt weary. cess.
in the classic position at my back; and, like poleon on the Belleroplion, glowered on each
Na
My
Life of
Song
Then came the feast, with myself in the post of honor and my father sitting at my side to help me in the ceremony. It was then that my merri ment received an unpleasant cheek. The cham pagne was poured out into a large loving cup, from which, according to custom, the prize-winner had the first long sip. As I was about to take the cup of champagne which was being handed to me, my father's strong hand fell on mine.
dear, no, little Luisa," said he. "Dear, dear, no. You are much too young to be allowed to touch champagne. It will go to your head, and
"Oh
we
shall
have to carry our
little
Tetramni home.
When you grow up, yes, but not tonight" I am afraid rny eyes filled with tears as I watched my father take the flowing bowl and drink on my
behalf, while all the other dancers laughed heartily at the plight of the little prize-winner. Despite
this,
I soon recovered
my
self-possession,
and
it
was with
ballroom,
my
little
nose tilted high that I left the
This incident reminds
me
of
my
last
tour of
the United States in the winter of 1920-21, After I had acceded to a request of the American Gov
to sing into the wireless telephone so that the United States sailors could hear me
ernment
hundred miles away, Mr. Daniels, Secretary of the Navy, me, asked me to name my complimenting favorite song, My answer astonished him For I jocularly named the drunkard's ditty which had become widely popular over there since America went dry. It runs
!
:
eight
Patti's
Death and
My
Birth
23
"How
dry I am, Nobody knows,
On that same tour I was the guest of honor at a public function in California. To please nte the Governor of the State, who presided, announced
that I could hold his
office
for five whole minutes.
"All right," I said, "here is something which will please everybody and make the Governor popular too. Everybody drink what he likes !" At this there was a roar of laughter from the audience. The Governor, however, shook his head and said I had exceeded his powers. While playing on the cobbles with which the streets of Florence were paved, I often had an unfortunate tumble, though never a serious acci dent. Sometimes I would go home to my mother crying over a bruised limb, or a cut knee, or a lost plaything which had been forcefully taken from me by an older and stronger child with whom I had unwisely played.
One
of
my own
very special games was to act
as mother to a family of my playmates. earliest memories of my own mother are that she
My
as
believed with all her heart that cleanliness came
exceeding close to
godliness.
My
first
act
1
mother to my playmates, and some of them were badly in need of my particular brand of mother wash. I used to ing, was to give each a good borrow a piece of soap from our family bathroom,
24
My
Life of
Song
and give the face of each a most sound and thor ough scrubbing. Some of my playmates, it is true,
did not enjoy
strict
me
quite so
much
as their
own
less
mothers, though generally speaking all took 80111x3 returned home it as part of a good game. to their parents with their faces so spotless that
it
must have caused surprise in certain homes less Spartan than mine. In justice to myself I think I must say that when it came to another to take
the turn of mother, I cheerfully submitted to the same rigors as I had myself exercised.
The slapping
rope, hoop,
and many of the more
sturdy, boys' games all had a great attraction for me as a child, I played a game similar to the
English leap-frog, another resembling the Ameri* can game of baseball.
one amusing recollection of those jolly early days which always returns to mo when I think of my birthplace. Our residence was right
is
There
in the heart of the city.
Immediately opposite to our sitting-room on the first floor was the studio of a young artist. This young painter should have devoted his talent to comic art, for he occasionally showed us some very clever and exceedingly funny
lightning sketches which he made of Eva and my self as he watched us from his vantage point across
the narrow street while
we played and sang. "When we sang sad songs he would execute a rough though remarkably lifelike drawing of us, but would distort our features so as to indicate
the
mood
of the music.
The lower parts of our
Patti's
Death and
My
Birth
25
faces would be drooping, our eyes would be shown rolling as if in utter dejection, and our heads and hands would conform to the tenor of the rest of
This drawing would be swiftly ex ecuted, and hanging out of the window for us to see before we could reach the end of the. song we were singing. One of us immediately knew what was happening across the street when the other lost control of her voice and broke into laughter.
the picture.
"Ah, the student again," we would say, and we would lean out of the window the better to see the
result of our artist's latest effort.
As we laughed
he would withdraw his picture, and return in a few seconds with a new drawing showing us in
the very opposite mood great openings reaching to our ears for our mouths, teeth showing, and cheeks a-wrinkle would denote that we were merry
:
or perhaps that he wanted to hear some happier music. Although he must have made some hun dreds of these lightning sketches, he was always careful to add some novelty to make each new cari
cature different from the others. One day the young painter called and prayed my mother to allow me to pose as a model for a
I was standing by, and imlmediately urged my mother to agree, which she did without much hesitation. He stated that he had noticed that my hands were very beautiful, and
picture of a child.
he wished to get them well in the forefront of the to pose as a little Neapolitan picture. So I decided child singing, and eating cm onion! I struck a
26
My
Life of
Song
pose which pleased the critical eye of the artist, and took a big bite of the onion. The picture was soon completed, but I do not think it reached a
high standard of art or entered a gallery. The young painter, I believe, is dead, and the picture of little Tetrazzini with her onion is lost to me
and to
posterity.
CHAPTER
II
JOYS AND SORROWS OF SCHOOL
HAVE
I
to
frequently been made to suffer because of the envy and jealousy of fellow-crea as have also to confess all who attain tures,
my
any position of
note.
Great statesmen, great
soldiers, great sailors, great singers, all must pay the price of eminence. Small faults are taken up 'by* the sensational Press and magnified out of all proportion; weaknesses which may not exist are discovered and apostrophized; the finer qualities are forgotten or purposely obscured. Caruso, John McOormack, and many others whom I could name have all been wantonly and unjustifiably attacked by envious, jealous or mere ly spiteful persons. It is too much to expect to go through life on the top of any profession with out having to fight against m&licious onslaughts. Even the great and good General Gordon, with Abraham Lincoln and Garibaldi, did not entirely
escape.
Very
early in
my
life
I was
made
to suffer
bitterly through the unprincipled act of another.
Since then I have undergone other sufferings
through the deliberate attacks of
creatures.
27
my
fellow-
28
My
At my
first
Life of
Song
girl
school there
was a young
who
came of parents really too poor to adequately maintain her at this establishment. Though my
family was not wealthy, I always had sufficient and to spare of the necessaries of life. Boeing that this poor girl was less fortunate, I used to help her as best I could. But this child had less gratitude than some grown-ups. She envied me for my com parative good fortune. Toward the end of my first year the three lady principals began to rniss various small articles from the school, and soon we all had the \meomf ortable feeling that there was a thief in our midnt. Little pieces of jewelry, food, handkerchiefs and ornaments disappeared. Our teachers grew very annoyed, and threatened severe penalties to any one who was caught stealing. One day T saw this "girl hurriedly leaving the cloak-room with a very guilty face, and I felt sure that she had been searching the pockets of the coats of some of the other girls. When I asked her what she was doing, she passed on without answering. The sequel cam^ the next day when the teacher found a num ber of things which had recently disappeared
great commotion followed. I wan publicly accused of having stolen these wretched little ornaments. How they got into my de$k T did not know, although I strongly suspected the girl I had previously helped as being responsible, But I had no proof. It was not the annoyance caused by the discovery of these ornaments IB
in <my desk.
A
my
Joys and Sorrows of School
29
desk which, disturbed me the most. That was bad enough, but my own unfortunate temperament
made
it
worse.
I am of that nature, which I have since found to be not uncommon, which is only too ready to defend another in such an emergency but is help
less in the face of
an unexpected charge against I stood before my principal too over whelmed at the accusation to make any answer at I was literally speechless. Since that day all. I have stood and sung and spoken to crowds so vast that the very miemory of them almost turns me dizzy. I have sung in the open air to nearly 250,000 without feeling at all nervous. Before a great crowd I have nevr been at a loss for a word; but confronted by a sudden false accusation, I was, and I think I still should be, helpless. When I, now greatly indignant, returned home to my family I told them what had happened, how horrible they had all been to me at my first school, and asked not to be compelled to go back. My parents were very angry with the school authori ties, and, the term being practically at an end, decided that I should not return. I was sent to another establishment, but it was a long time be fore I felt at ease at school after my first unfortu
oneself.
;
when I returned a very donna from one of my American successful prima tours, I went back to this little school of my early childhood. Of my success in the realm of song all
nate experience. Many years afterward,
30
My
Life of
Song
Florence was now aware, and the principals, when I called on them, were most eager to welcome me
and were lavish in their congratulations* They were exceedingly pleased that I had remembered the old school and were so happy to recall that I was once a pupil there. Then I told them my main reason for calling. It was to tell them as an international prima donna what I had been unable to explain as a shy school
was not little Tetramni who had stolen at the school I told them of the other girl and the circumstances in which I had encountered her. They were then very profuse in their apologies for the incident, which they said they had for
girl,
that
it
gotten until I recalled
it
to them.
"We
thought
you were a
you are a prima and have told us you were wronged, of donna, course we believe you," said they, rather naively I thought, As I left 1 found myself wondering
little thief
then.
Now
what they would have said
'
if I
had not been sue-
cessfui
My photograph now hanp in that school,
and the young children are often reminded that the name of Tetra&rini, the prima donna, was
once on the register, I do not think, however, that they are told the story of my unfortunate treat-* ment and the reason why I early changed that school for another, I have no harrowing tale to tell of my music
have some of the great singers and There was never a time in my life whan players. the work of preparation seemed so hard that I felt
studies, as
Joys and Sorrows of School
like
31
abandoning the effort. I did not spend long hours practicing scales and voice production. My
maestri called me their easiest pupil. "You do not need a maestro at all/' said one to me when I was at the Conservatoire of Music in my native
Florence.
just right." actual training was prob my ably the shortest of any prima donna that the world has produced. My sister Eva had to go
"Your
voice
was born
Certain
it is
that
through four years' hard study and incessant prac tice at the conservatoire before being appointed to the chief position in the Royal Opera House at Madrid. What it took my sister four laborious years to accomplish, I did in a year without effort. I do not write this in a spirit of boasting; on the contrary, to show that my success seemed to have been mapped out for me by nature. I took to music as a bird takes to air. It was my natural
element.
a life of song my mother pointed to the trying experiences of my sister Eva before she became successful. "The life of the
When I first aspired to
songstress means so
is
a hard life," said
effort, so
my
mother.
"It
much
much
self -sacrifice, so
many disappointments, so many tears. Granted a good voice, the difficulty of obtaining a debut, of
convincing impresarios of your worth, and the moral temptations are almost insurmountable prior to arrival/ When you become a good singer you
'
are always living in fear of something affecting
32
My
voice.
Life of
Song
toil
your
The rewards are not worth the
and effort" If my mother could only then have looked into If she could have the future and seen the truth
!
foreseen
fewer than thirty years I should be able to earn with my voice no less than
that
in
the stupendous sum! of five million dollars! she did not. Neither did I. Yet it has so
But
hap
pened. My voice to date has already earned for me well over that amount.
"Stay and help your father in his business," my mother counselled, "and become a merchant's
wife." I often wonder what would have happened if I had done so. I suppose I should still be living
in a little villa in Florence, and be spending days singing to the birds and listening to the stories
my
successful sister of her visits to the other countries of the world. eyes would
told
by
my
My
sparkle as she spoke of London and its difficulties in regard to opera, of New York, all skyscrapers
and of dear old sleepy Madrid. sister practised at home under her maestro I would steal into the room and listen to the music. I still remember her trials with La* Gioconda, and how I had learned it by heart with out any special instruction by the time she was ready to sing it from the operatic stage.
hustle,
and
When my
When
the maestro took
me
to the conservatoire
me as the new musical prodigy. New students were required to take some easy little
he introduced
Joys and Sorrows of School
piece of .music and to sing it to the principal. the singer gave any indication of promise, she
;
33
If
was
admitted if not, she was turned away. When my maestro took me first to the conservatoire he told
me
to bring the aria
from the prison scene in
Mefistofele, sung by Margherita. TJie piece is very difficult, as everypne knows, and I was then only
about ten years
;
Students are not usually taken at this conservatoire until they are fifteen years of age but my maestro thought, though I was so young, it was wise to introduce me to the musical atmosphere of the college as early as possible, and he asked for an exception to be made in my case. Compared with the other pupils, I was then a very small, slim figure,. The principal looked from my maestro to myself in astonishment as I entered
old.
his room.
"What
"This
have you here?" he queried.
Tetrazzini,
is little
my
musical prodigy."
shall hear."
"But she is only an infant." "Her voice is grown-up, as you "Then let me hear her sing."
I produced
my excerpt from Mefistofele, and the
principal raised his eyebrows. "But she is not going to sing this?" maestro said, "Oh, yes, she is."
My
"But no one sings pieces like this to get admis sion. They do that when they go away. If she can do this, why does she come here at all is it to
teach us?"
I sang, and the principal turned to
my
maestro
34
My
Life of
Song
with a look of astonishment. "You are right," he said; "she is a musical prodigy." Instead of taking me to the beginners' class, the principal introduced me to a class of girls who were second-year students, and in one month I had passed ahead of the whole class. When the time came for the examinations there promised to be some difficulty in obtaining permis
sion for me, through being so young and in my first year, to sit for a second year's examination. But
the faculty rose to the occasion and granted me special permission to compete, with the result that I camte through an easy first and secured a tre mendous advertisement for the institute* It is still truly said of me at the conservatoire that Tetrazzini was unable to pass the first year's ex aminationfor I was never troubled to sit for it. It was about this time that the Verdi incident
happened!
I feel that I must disclose this story to show how very human are all in the musical profession, from the lowest to the highest. In those days everyone was talking about a great new opera on which that musical genius, Verdi, was working* It was to be one of the most won
derful operas ever composed, so everyone was say used to discuss it at my home ; our maestri ing.
We
spoke eagerly of the forth coming work; indeed, the whole town generally was in a state of excitement over it.
at the conservatoire?
One day
the early post brought to
my
sister a
Joys and Sorrows of School
35
A
mysterious scroll which, when it was opened, I was not allowed to peruse. " It is a secret," said my sister mysteriously, and went to her room to pore over its contents. Nat urally, a secret of my sister's set me a-tingling with eagerness to learn it. Later I heard her go to the piano and begin to sing. I entered the room unobserved, looked over her shoulder, and saw what everyone in the musical world was waiting and longing to see Verdi's new opera, Otello! It was a first copy of a work not yet published. young man who was a near friend of Eva's was working with the great composer, and had secretly borrowed a copy of the new work to send it to my sister. Though his action was not blameless, his
motive, as far as my sister was concerned, was most kind and thoughtful. He argued that by practising on an advance copy of a new opera my sister would become so proficient that when the secret was at last given to the world she would be
the person mtost likely to be given the principal vocal part.
had determined to send it back to her thoughtful admirer, as she said it was not quite playing the game either with Verdi or the
first
At
my
sister
but the temptation to enjoy just one glimpse of the first page of the score was too strong. The opening bars of the beautiful new* work arrested her interest, and she quickly ran through the whole score. The next step was to try a few bars on the piano. Soon she was singing
other opera singers
;
36
My
Life of
Song
so gaily the secret Otello that she did not notice that I too was listening. It was then too late to
keep the
secret.
So I joined with her in the
first
rehearsal of the
new
opera.
That was a great night.
opera several times.
We
My sister
went through the Elvera played, and
Eva and I sang. before we were
It
must have been grey morning
able to put the new work away and go to bed. Every member of the family was excited, and I, being the baby and the most tem
all.
peramental, was more excited than me afterward that I sang Verdi's
They
told
new
Otello in
my
sleep during that short night. the new opera was now a family secret, it was most necessary not to disclose its existence to
As
As I was leaving anyone outside our home. for the conservatoire, however, I thought in my girlish mind how delightful it would be to let my maestro have just a peep at the work. I wrapped it up carefully, and, carrying it as though it were a piece of delicate china, took it with me to the academy. At the earliest opportunity I had a private word with my maestro. Feeling very im portant and looking very mysterious, I said that I had some new treasure which would surprise him
greatly.
surprise, my little prodigy ?" he asked encouragingly. "I have brought you Verdi's new opera. " "What!" he exclaimed, and jumiped into the air
"And what is your
in his excitement.
"Let me
see
it,
quick, quick !"
Joys and Sorrows of School
I showed
bulging.
it
37
to
Mm, and
watched his eyes
here/' he said, and leaving the class look after itself, he led the way to one of the to rooms where there was a piano on which we could try it over without being disturbed. He sat at the instrument while I sang. At first he played
"Come in
As we proceeded we quietly. entered into the swing of the glorious work and be
softly
and I sang
came
less
cautious.
He
played the piano with
reckless enjoyment, while I sang to the full of inly voice.
volume
What was
to be expected
happened.
Suddenly
hearing the sound of a heavy man hurrying toward our door, we stopped in alarm.
quick; there's someone coming, ejaculated the maestro. I took the score and quickly thrust it under some cushions. Then we put an old score on the music
"Hide
"
it,
rack.
i
By
this time
someone was banging heavily
! !
on the class-room door. Open the door Open the door This minute I wish to enter." We looked mutely at each other, for we knew
'
1
the owner of thahnC^e
!
all
too well.
The maestro went to the door, unlocked it, and He was a man of medium in walked the principal
height, his hair turning slightly grey. He looked at us both very curiously, and then stalked across to the piano and read the title of the score on the
music rack.
38
My
Life of
Song
"Faust!" he exclaimed. "Faust! It was not " Then he turned to Fa^(,st that you were playing. me and said, "Signorina, what were you singing
just
now?"
My eyes fell. I did not know what to say. The maestro attempted to come to my rescue by saying that I was singing a few excerpts from the
old operas.
Old operas! Gome, come, don't "I know every old tell me that!" he growled. opera that is in existence. That glorious music has never been sung before to my knowledge. Those notes, that melody Have you a new opera here?" The principal looked from one to the other awaiting an answer. Both of us were fearing what would happen if we disclosed our secret, for the
!
"Old operas!
principal was a strict, upright man who, we knew, would countenance nothing that was not absolutely
straightforward. Would he discharge the maestro and punish me for this escapade? Would he write
to
him that hie opera had leaked out, and, if he did, what would that stern giant do with the young iman who had sent the opera to
Verdi and
tell
Would my sister in some way be in for her little part? Those were some of jured the questions which I was asking myself during this curious scene in the conservatoire on that
my
sister?
memorable morning. But there was not help for it. The secret had emerged fromi my home; it had to go farther now*
Joys and Sorrows of School
So I
39
told the principal the whole story, expect
ing him to be righteously indignant. I did not then know what a spell a new opera by a man like
Verdi could cast over anyone in the profession. The expression on the maestro* s face when I first showed him the new Otello was a sight of wonder, amazement and delight that was unforget
But the principal! He was almost deliri ous. Again was enacted the scene in which I had participated once before that morning and, pre viously, at home. The principal took the new
table.
magic pages, rushed to the three of us went to the piano, and we sang the whole of the new opera through again, the principal loudly express ing his delight at the work as we went along.
score, glanced
through
it.
its
the door and locked
Then
the principal, when we had come to the end of the opera; and then he added a sentence which was shortly to be taken up by others and echoed throughout the realm of music. "Verdi, yes, but
"Yes,
it's
unquestionably
Verdi/
'
said
a new Verdi," he declared. "Our great composer has deserted the old Italian school and is becoming Wagnerian. But what a glorious work, neverthe less. Oh, it will be a huge Ytes, it's beautiful!
success."
It
to
was long past lunch
timte
before I returned
my
home with
the precious manuscript, for
which, by the way, my sister had been vainly searching during my absence. Eor this story to be complete I think I should
40
My
Life of
Song
have to say that later
on,
when I met the great
Verdi, I told him of the incident and that he en joyed it immensely; but there was no such desir able sequel, although many years later I was in It was on the presence of the great composer* the shores of Maggiorc where I came upon Verdi,
with a famous maestro, taking the cure. He was then a frail old man. When I saw him I felt a
great desire to speak to him and tell the story of the Otello manuscript. At that moment the maestro saw me, and, excusing himself, came to my side and asked me if I would care to meet the
Again on an occasion of the highest importance my temperament prevented me from doing the thing that I miost wished to do, I was so overwhelmed at the honor that I missed the opportunity. I sent the Maestro away with an apology. Immediately he had gone I wanted to go after him and beg to be introduced* It was too late Not long afterward I read with the deepest regret that our great Verdi was dead.
great Verdi.
!
CHAPTER in
PREPARING FOR
MY
DEBTJT
I was only one year studying music in the conservatoire, it should be understood that most of my life from the time I was able to toddle until my public debut as a prinia donna,
THOUGH
was spent in studying and practicing singing. Even at my first school, where I had the unpleasant ex perience which I have already described, some of the hours of study were devoted to music. The three old maids they were sisters who ran the school had different duties. One acted as man ageress, one as professor of literature, and the third as instructress in gymnastics. Though they were sisters, they were not a happy trio. The eldest, who was, of course, the manageress, was greatly disliked by the other two, who sometimes
conspired together against her rule. When there was friction among these "goddesses," as might be supposed, the life of the pupils was not so enjoyable as it should have been. Our punish ments for real or imaginary offences were more frequent and more severe at these times of dis union. My frequent outbursts of song at irregular moments were never overlooked during these days of tension. I have no children of mly own. If I
41
42
My
Life of
Song
had I think I should require from the school master or schoolmistress under whose care I placed them a guarantee that, should they occa sionally testify to their joy in life by an outburst
of song, they should not be too hastily or too severely checked.
I do not wish it to be understood that my teach were always harsh and unkind On the con trary, some were very considerate, appreciative and even indulgent. I have most happy memories of one maestro who, after I had finished singing, would nod his head in a grave, wise sort of fashion and say, " Ah, little Tctrazzdni, you have something very wonderful in your throat" "Have I, maestro t" I replied on one occasion. "Please tell me what it is that's there.*' Then he painted a picture very similar to that which my father had once drawn when speaking of Patti "You have palaces and castles, horses and coaches, beautiful lands and lovely jewels, a great name and thousands of admirers; you have all there is in the world in that little white throat
ers
of yours."
He must have been very hurt with my
reply.
irreverent
maestro" I answered, "suppose you take out two of them and
"If I have horses down
my
throat,
let's
go for a glorious gallop across the hills, in stead of staying here in this stuflty old school/ 7 A!s I spoke I cheekily opened my mouth, "Ah, you are very funny, little he
Tetraz&im,"
Preparing for
My
Debut
43
replied, "but one day you will know that I speak not in fun but in all seriousness. Then you will
remember
my words and think kindly of the old maestro who will probably be dead and forgotten, " When vast audiences in world-capitals have risen in their seats, waved their hands, and cheered and cheered my singing until I have been almost over whelmed by the joyous tumult, I have thought of my old maestro and his words. "Would that he were here tonight to share with me the success of his old pupil/' is the phrase that has often been in my mind and on my lips since those days of my
girlhood.
said of me when I am dead, I never be said that Tetrazzini, when hope successful, ever displayed a lack of sympathy for those others in her glorious profession to whom the fates have dealt less kindly. I have always realized that I did not make my voice it was there. And when sometimes my maestri used to select me to be an example to those whom they described as their dull pupils, I have invariably felt more sorry for their failures than exultant over my own triumphs. I remember one girl who had been in the
Whatever may be
it will
;
institute for six years, whose gifts did not lie in the direction of operatic singing, often causing my 'maestro much annoyance through her inability to
produce the notes for which he was asking. After numerous attempts, he turned to me and said,
"Tetrazzini, come and show this dull girl how to sing." Peeling very sorry for the dull one, I pur-
44
My
made one
Life of
Song
posely
or two mistakes at the start.
Wlien I tried again, however, I sang the piece as my maestro wished. As a reward my maestro gave me one penny, and the dull girl favored me with a scowl which, had she known the truth, she might have reserved for somtone else. Such scowls from
envious members of the profession, particularly from those of my own sex, have often been directed
at
me
since those early days in Florence.
The hours I spent in the conservatoire were very short. I would rise in the morning at 7.30, and help my mother to cook and prepare the breakfast and to clean the house until eleven o'clock. Housework always fascinated me, and still does. Though I own a palace and a mansion, and when travelling
hand
stay in the most luxurious hotels, I often lend a to the servants who are scrubbing the floors,
sweeping the carpets, and cleaning and tidying generally. I used to climb trees, and loved it. I
still
climb the trees in
my own
orchard at Lugano
fruit.
and help to pluck the season's
At eleven o'clock I used to be at the conserva toire, and would stay and sing there under my maestro until about 12.30. Then home to lunch. The afternoon was usually spent with my father,
who, besides giving me his books to keep straight, wouJd ask me to do some of the gold
collars of the generals
work for the
of the army. From four to five o'clock I would run through the lessons of the morning at home, for there was nothing to do at the eonserva-
men
embroidery and other great
Preparing for
toire in the afternoon.
My
Debut
45
Every night after supper
we had a musical
evenings a visit was
!
evening. Oh, those jolly musical Only when the family went out to pay there no musical evening at our home.
Even then we would all take our music to our friends and pass most of the hours singing, dancing and playing. One of our favorites was Meyerbeer's L'Africana. I used to sing both soprano parts, that of
Selika, the slave and formerly an African queen, and that of Inez, the daughter of Don Diego. I
loved both the music and the character of the slave queen, the woman of the big, generous heart, who, giving up her loved one to Inez, destroys herself by eating of the poisonous tree of beautiful growth. It was in this opera that I made by debut, taking the part of Inez, the betrothed of the great Portu guese explorer, Vasco de Grama, the discoverer of Natal. At those merry musical evenings La Gioconda was also an opera often sung, while another of our greatest favorites was The Daughter of the Regiment. This brilliant little opera is the fiftyfourth work produced by the prolific Donizetti. My father used to tell me that it was at one time very popular in London, when Jenny Lind, then the singing star of the world, played the vivacious vivandiere. Marie, the soprano, the life of the "21st" of the line, the daughter of a marchioness, was lost in childhood, and found by the "21st" as they marched to war. An old corporal (the bass) takes the infant under his special care, and
46
My
Life of
Song
near her joins the "21st " The young couple wish to marry, but complications arise owing to Marie's relatives. But true love wins, for Tonio, as a soldier of Napoleon, has a baton in his modest knapsack. I have sung this merry opera many, many times. I have played it all over Italy, Eng
land, Russia,
she becomes the daughter of the regiment. Tonio, the tenor peasant, falls in love with her, and to be
Germany, Austria, North and South
America. My way of makijng a) smart little salute, on which the newspapers of all countries have so
often commented and at which so
many hundreds
of thousands of people have laughed, I practised at those musical evenings in my home in Florence.
In those days my father used to roll with laughter as he watched me. Once when I was singing at Washington, President Taft whom I knew wellwas in the principal box. When I came on the
stage I noticed him immediately. His magnificent, kindly face was beaming a welcome, and so I re
sponded by marching right across the stage until I could almost step into his box. Then I gave him my cheeky little salute. The President broke into a roar of infectious laughter, and all the crowded house joined with him. The incident, small
though
it
may seem when
set
down
in frigid prose, so
tickled the imagination of the great assembly that it seemed as we should not be able to though
carry
on
.with the opera.
The President shook with
;
laughter for some minutes the people in the other boxes did the same those in the orchestra roared
;
Preparing for
and
My
Debut
rolled in their seats, while those in the upper " Encore! Encore! parts of the house shouted,
Another salute!" It was full fifteen minutes be fore we were able to proceed with The Daughter
of the Regiment. Otello, from the time the unpublished manu script was brought to the house until I left home,
was always popular. It was during my girlhood that Lakme, an opera in three acts by Delibes, was published. Its first production was in Paris in 1883, and it appeared in London two years afterward. I regard this work as Delibes' best. It has the light touch of the modern French school of opera. It tells of a young British officer who, when in India, enters the sacred grounds of a Brahmin temple, and thereby incurs the death penalty. Meeting Lakme, the daughter of the high priest, he takes her away to a jungle retreat. "While there he hears from
afar the trumpet call to return to duty. As he departs Lakme gathers the flowers of the deadly stramonium tree, kisses her lover, bids him good bye, and presses the fatal flower to her lips. Lakme 's prayer to Durga and the other Brahmin gods for protection for her English lover, and the
famous
bell song,
were heard almost nightly in
our home, and I am still singing arias from his It was great and ever-popular opera today. Lakme that I sang in the Royal Albert Hall, Lon don, on October 10, 1920, at a special concert which
it
was necessary
to give to demonstrate to the
48
My
Life of
Song
London public, though they had heard me sing Lakme, 1 thought, until they were weary, gave me their accustomed ecstatic welcome. The hall was
British public that some reports which had been circulated as to my voice were entirely false. The
packed with nearly 13,000 people. All the boxes save one were filled. The next day the newspapers .criticized the owner of this box for not lending it to someone in the large crowds who had been turned away. When we left the hall our car was mobbed by enthusiasts who were shouting to me to return soon and sing them Lalme once again. I learned how to be a prima donna in the best
The possible schools the opera house. Tctraazini were typical of the Italians, in family asmuch as every member of it, every relative near
of
all
was an insatiable lover of opera. My father and brother were great friends of the man ager and the conductor at our opera house in Florence, so when the opera season was in full swing the family Tetrazfcini would be specially in vited, and would go in force, to almost every per formance. When I was an infant in arms my par ents used to take me with them but I have no story to tell of having to be suddenly removed from the house because I disturbed the perform ance. I would lie asleep in my mother's arms, and, to use her own words, "would be as happy as an angeP through the whole performance. If I ut and
distant,
'
tered a sound, as I did later on, it was only to mimic in my baby way a startling note that was
MADAME
TETRAZZINI AS "LAKM6,"
IN
THE
OPERA OF DELIBES
Preparing for
My
Debut
49
being sung from the stage, a note which probably first aroused the mjusical chords in my being. Later on I used to keep awake as the opera proceeded, and I would crow quietly to myself as I sat on my mother's knee, most of the time keeping in perfect harmony with the music. My maestro used to say that I was born in the opera house, which was not strictly correct. It was true, however, that I spent more time in the opera house when I was a child than most singers I have always stated that it was in [have done. the opera house that I made my debut as a public singer, but when I was in London in October, 1920,
that
an Italian baritone called at my hotel and stated it was not so, for previous to my debut at the Florence Opera House I had sung with him in a
tiny hall at a concert held in a village near to my town. He probably is right, but I have now no
recollection of the incident.
Since then I have sung in Villages, but usiially in the open air, be cause of the difficulty of obtaining a public hall
of any size. In the early days of
I thought I should be a contralto. My voice grew to be very much like that of Madame Clara Butt today, but this phase did not last long, and I found that I was soprano again with a very high register. Since those days I have met many a soprano whose voice
my
'teens
gave promise of being contralto, and tenors little while were baritones. who I did not debut in a chorus, as most operatic
first
for a
50
My
Life of
Song
first public appearance, singers have done. save for the forgotten village incident which I have mentioned, was as a prima donna in own
My
my
The opportunity was both spectacular and unexpected. It was one Sunday evening. Previously the impresario had met my brother in the town and said, "You must come to L'Afrieana tonight. The house will be
critical, music-loving Florence.
have a packed. It will be a record night. donna who has incessantly practised great prima the part of Inez for weeks past. She is now as
hear.
We
near to perfection as any soprano you will ever My brother canw honnc very excited, bringing with him tickets for the stalls, one for each member of our family. "These are the last obtainable/' he exclaimed. "There are crowds being sent away from the box7 '
office/
7
Sunday we were talking of the coming per formance of L*African a* As ever, I was the most interested and excited one of the family. All day I was dreaming of the prima donna whose per formance that evening would make her the talk
All
of Florence for weeks to come. I thought of what my brother
How I envied her
!
had said as to her
weeks of special preparation for the part. Know ing that I had been singing this opera almost daily ever since I could toddle, I may be excused for feeling that, however much at home this great prima donna would be as Inez, she could not feel and know the part better than I. But she was a
Preparing for
grown-up woman.
hair
still
My
Debut
girl
51
I was then only a
with
my
falling over my shoulders. I was barely sixteen years of age, and, as I have since been told, looked much younger. During the day I ex pressed to my mother the thoughts and longings
which crowded
and filled my heart. "Have patience, child; have patience, little Luisa," said my mother. "Your turn must come
soon.
my mind
Do
not be too ambitious.
" are but a child.
Remember you
"Yes, mother, but I can sing, and sing well, so the maestro and everybody tell me. If what they say is true, why should I not become a prima donna
and sing from the operatic stage to our people in Florence?" "So you shall, Luisa," retorted my mother. "But it is much too early for you to expect to take a star part in grand opera. The day will come, never fear, sooner perhaps than you now think." There was a tinge of prophecy in those encourag ing words of my mother. I did not know it, nor did any other member of miy family. Yet that day I was on the verge of my sensational debut. Those seemingly long days of waiting and visioning of my youth were at an end. When I recall them I cannot help smiling at my impatience and at the same time marvelling at the rare stroke of good fortune which came to me on that memorable Sun
at once
day when I had- scarce seen sixteen sumaniers through. There are today some fairly well-known prime donne who accidentally discovered that they
52
My
gift of
Life of
Song
song only when they were nearing thirty years of age. Yet here was I in my sixteenth year straining at the leash, longing to break away
had the
and bound
if
to the forefront of the
most
difficult
stage of the world of art.
I
am sometimes asked
now think I made my debut too soon. invariable reply is in the negative. I have My never had cause to regret taking to the stage so early, for from this time onward my life of song
I do not
training school. The earlier one starts the better, because one is more impression able in youth, and the practical experience brings the singer more quickly to maturity. The zenith
of her career finds her ture in art and voice.
still
has been
my
fresh,
How
young and
ma
has
often
when we hear
a great artist have
we
to deplore that the voice
and worn, for the reason that she began too late in life, when the bloom of youth had van ished. I went to the opera house that Sunday night
old
become
with a muffled sense of being somehow out in the cold. I left the house later on in a state of almost
As I entered with my mother, my brother and my sisters, I saw the crowds who were being turned away disappointed from the box-office
delirious joy.
but I did not feel, as some do in such circumstances and as I may have done on other a kind
occasions, of pharisaic satisfaction that my lot was different from that of those others less fortunately placed. I was then only thinking of the prima donna. I saw those others still less fortunate, who, standing on the opposite pavement,
enviously
Preparing for
watched the glittering
*
My
Debut
53
lights of the Pagliani
The-
atre
and the well-dressed throng pouring
inside,
and who knew that
were any on
sale.
their pockets were too shallow to permit of their obtaining seats even if there
afraid, I was aspirations to give them more than a passing thought of pity. Since then I record it with modesty, for I have always re
That night, I
am
also too full of
my own
garded
it
as a duty
I have as often as possible
acted differently when seeing similar sights outside the opera theatres where I have been singing. " You have a good heart, Tetrazzini," is a sentence
which, occasionally used by some of my acquain tances, has caused me as much secret pleasure as some of the extravagant outbursts of the audiences whom I have pleased with my songs. It has often
happened that when I have arrived at the opera in one of the big world-cities and seen crowds of people in evening dress going away because of the " House Full" sign, I have sent round to the tail of the gallery queue and asked half a dozen of the
music lovers among those less fortunately placed, who it was evident stood a poor chajice of obtain ing admission, if they would honor Tetrazzini by occupying her own private box for the evening's performance. I have watched with quiet enjoy ment the curious glances directed toward the occu pants of my box by some of the bejeweled ladies in the other boxes and stalls. The rough clothes
worn by
selected half-dozen, it is true, are usually out of keeping with the elegant side of
my
My
the house, yet to
Life of
Song
the one touch of human nature which makes the world kin. And these always eager though shabby members of the human race are generally the best listeners and the most ready to appreciate the highest music. On such occasions I feel that I am able to sing better and to be more in sympathy with some of the grand
it is
me
parts which are so plentiful in all the great operas. Inside the opera house at Florence that night
were
all
who mattered
all
all
in
my home
town.
All
full
authority, of music prof essors
the maestri
and Florence was
the relatives of the artists,
impresarios from other towns searching for new talent, the professional men and the business men, the Press and the first-nighters, were there. It was an assembly such as makes a theatre manager feel unusually stern and important. Then it hap,pened! The orchestra had just finished their scraping and tuning-up preliminaries, obviously conscious that they were very important units in the great opening performance, and were all ready to strike forth the opening when a message bars, was whispered into the ear of the conductor. Sit
ting there in my stall beside my mother, my keen young ears heard something that made my heart leap and then stop. It was to the effect that the
prima donna had not arrived. In a flash I was alert and trembling with excitement. I
forgot
youth,
all
my inexperience, my
my
girlish dress,
my
gen
eral unpreparedness.
All I could think in that
mad
rush of eager emotion was,
"My
chance has
Preparing for
comie.
My
Debut
55
There
little
is
no one here who can take this part
' '
The conductor was mov except ing about in uncontrollable agitation. He clasped
Tetrazzini.
and unclasped his hands despairingly, tore his hair, looked apprehensively from the waiting orchestra to the glittering, expectant house. The manager hurried to him with a note which had just been brought by an express notessenger. Eagerly I watched the conductor tear the little envelope, snatch out the enclosure, and read its contents. Then his features assumed an expression of tragic despair. He turned to the house and announced
with deepest regret that L'Africana could not be given that night. He had just received Word from the great prima donna who was to have played the part of Inez that she had suddenly fallen ill and could not leave her house. A murmur of disap pointment ran through the theatre. Then I did something the audacity of which causes mie to marvel even to this day. The excitement of the moment was so great that I can scarcely remember with accuracy the details of what happened. I have a dim remembrance that my people tried to check my impetuosity and that I refused to be checked. I remember that I jumped to my feet, and then, fearing that I should miss the conduc tor's eye, leapt on my seat. Standing there, a girlish
1
cynosure of every eye in that crowded " Don't theatre, I addressed the conductor thus: worry, maestro. I know the part thoroughly well. " I must Let mie comie to the stage. I will sing it.
figure, the
56
My
Life of
Song
have spoken very loudly, for even in the gallery my words were plainly heard. Immediately I had spoken the house began to buzz with conversation,
"Who
others.
is she*?"
asked some.
exclaimed others.
"It's Tetrazzini," "Yes, let her try/' cried still
quivering with excitement, stood on the cushioned stall unheeding all save the con
I,
And
ductor, whose "Yes" or "No" meant everything or nothing, sunshine or storm, joy or sorrow, life
or death, to
me
!
CHAPTER IV
PKIMA DONNA AT SIXTEEN
are
you saying Tetrazzini?
77
You
must be mad! The conductor had answered me! It was the only answer I could have expected. Perhaps in later years I should have accepted such a rebuff as final and have resumed my seat, feeling greatly abashed. Not so on this occasion, for I had not the slightest feeling of that kind at the na'oment. I only realized that a magnificent oppor tunity, the chance of a lifetime, was slipping away from me. If I allowed this chance to go by with out making a supreme effort to seize it, years might pass before another such opportunity pre
sented
itself.
Though
my
temperament has sometimes
failed
me in certain critical situations it has never caused me to miss a professional opportunity. There are
some prime donne who consider it undignified to write an article for the Press or to give an inter view to a journalist, but I have always regarded it as a privilege to use the newspapers as a means
of speaking to a far bigger audience than can be collected into a public hall. When the opportunity comes to tell of some of the joys and sorrows of
57
58
My
Life of
Song
profession, or to write on a matter of great I public interest, I take it, whenever possible. soon realized how great a power is the Press in making more remunerative the business side of a
my
prima donna's work.
;
To convince an impresario
of her ability to sing well is only part of the battle of a prima donna the general public must know it
I help the Press whenever I can because almost invariably the Press helps me. Yet though I have allowed few professional opportunities to pass, I have tried to avoid purely selfish actions.
too,
All of us are selfish in a greater or lesser degree. I should be much wealthier today if I had lived
a
was the ruling that when the opera passion. happens to be given at any of the opera houses is under discussion some of the artists urge the management
self-interest
life in
which
my own
It often
put on productions which give them the best opportunity of distinguishing themselves, and
to
therefore give others less scope to shine. Before I left home my parents urged me on such occasions always to act in the interest of the whole company rather than for the benefit and glorification of
myself.
I have always remembered their counsel
tried to abide by it when the operas for the season have been under discussion. But when other opportunities for which all who sing are always waiting present themselves, I have never been backward in accepting what the gods have proffered. " I am not mad," I hurled back to the
and honestly
maestro
Prima Donna at Sixteen
59
in the Florence Opera House that night. "I know perfectly well that the part of Inez is very difficult. I also know that I can do it. Do not send all
these people away without giving me a chance to show them that what I am telling you is true* "
The conductor hesitated. He looked at my small* slim figure half doubtfully, while some of my friends in the audience voiced their own arguments
on
my
behalf.
girl is right/'
"The
shouted one
is
me
sing at the conservatoire.
who had heard "She has a voice
like liquid gold;
and she
an actress as well."
Some
of the others in the balcony added their quota. "Everybody knows Tetrazzini can sing anything.
She's the nightingale of Florence/' said one. His remark was generally applauded. I think it must have been the inspiration of the audience that
conductor to take a step which, not quite so far as I had asked him was though to go, meant everything to me. "Very well, little Luisa," he said. "You shall have the part." The audience interrupted with a roar of pleasure. I was all for rushing from my seat to the stage when the maestro stopped me. "But not tonight," he said. "I cannot take the responsibility of putting anyone on at this house
finally decided the
it
without a rehearsal. No performance is better than a first-night failure.' "We will postpone the opening of L'Africana for a few days, and you
'
shall
come tomorrow
to the rehearsals."
Later
my
relatives
and friends crowded round
60
My
to praise
Life of
Song
daring and to congratulate me on securing an engagement in so unusual a way. All the members of our family hurried home, I singing snatches from L'Africana all the way. My heart was bounding with delight. Those rough old
me
my
Florence, I remember, seemed soft as rose leaves as I danced across them; into our cab. I remember how my maestro came to the
cobblestones
of
house that night to give me sound advice for the morrow. I remember how that night in my home we played and sang the whole opera through, I, now a real prima donna, singing with intense
earnestness every line of my part instead, as for merly, of improvising words to suit my lively
spirits.
morning came, and I was up with the We went through lark, singing as blithe as he. the first rehearsal without a hitch. At the end the Luisa there impresario came up to me and said was no need for this wait. I should have asked you on to the stage on Sunday night when you " I offered to oblige me. felt greatly complimented over this. We spent but one more day rehearsing, and then came the night of my debut. How excited I was all through the day. The hours dragged along. Never was there such a lengthy day in my life. Though I was excited, I was not in the least nervous. It was not until some time afterward, when I had left Florence and had begun to make progress in my profession, that I awoke to the seriousness of operatic singing and began to grow
Eeliearsal
* ' : ?
Prima Donna
at Sixteen
61
really afraid of the limelight, of making false natural gifts moves, of not doing justice to when facing a great crowd of watching, criticizing
my
fellow-creatures.
that night in Florence was more of to me than a solemn performance. As a girl looks forward to her wedding day had I looked forward to my professional debut. Few
The debut
an adventure
brides and fewer bridegrooms take their wedding day as the most serious day of their lives. So light-
hearted and gay was I on
still
my
debut night that I
marvel
at the success
which was achieved.
the rise of the curtain to the last drop the performance was acclaimed as a triumph. Of
course, everyone in the house
From
by
this
time knew
that sixteen-year-old Tetrazzini was the prima donna of the piece and was making her debut.
Probably because of my youth I was treated more generously than I should have been if I Were ten years older. Prophets may not be honored in their own country, and singers and musicians, probably
because there are so many, are not over-esteemed in my native Italy. But Florence was most gener ous to one of its own people that evening. Since then the enthusiasm of my fellow-townsmen at having produced an international prima donna has not been very marked. On the occasions when I have given a recital there I have always been
gladdened by the sight of crowded houses of ap plauding fellow-citizens. Nevertheless, Florence, like most other Italian towns, has never shown
62
My
Life of
Song
sing quite the same measure of appreciation of as London, New York, Petrograd, Sacramento, ing
my
San Francisco and Buenos Aires have done. The last four have bestowed on me the freedom of the Perhaps it is because city and other honors.
Florence has been so intimately associated with such great names as Dante, Michel Angelo, Machiavelli and others famous in the arts that it con siders a prima donna to be comparatively unim
portant.
That night some of the audience left declaring do that a trick had been played upon them.
"We
not believe that this was Tetrazzini's first perform ance/ they said. Their sentiments were taken up
7
some of the newspapers, which said that, despite the fact that Tetramni was announced as a debutante, it was too evident, from the way I danced and sang and carried myself in this dif&cult part, that I was a practised artist and had played before large audiences elsewhere on many occa sions. I was too confident, they explained, and I
in
played with too much vigor, too
much abandon, was too fearless and too much at home on the stage for the claim to be a debutante to go un
challenged.
I heard afterward that though I had shown no signs of nervousness, all the other members of
my family, sitting in their stalls watching me, were
beside themselves with fear of a breakdown. My mother could hardly look at me, as she was afraid her gaze might distract me from the part and the
Prima Donna
at Sixteen
63
debut end in a deplorable failure.
tain dropped for the last sponded to the end of a long series of tumultuous
encores,
"When the cur time, and I had re
round
my mother, my brother and sisters hurried to my room behind the scenes, and there
followed a time of congratulation and rejoicing such as is more common in Latin than Anglo-
Saxon countries. All my family hugged and kissed me, and hugged and kissed me again. We laughed and cried together, at the same time lamenting that my father, who had always prophesied such great things for me, was not present to join in the family triumph. While our rejoicings proceeded one of the theatre hands came in and stated that a crowd had collected in the street outside with the
intention of giving me a royal send-off. the performance many beautiful bouquets
.
During had been
thrown on
"
to the stage to me,
little
and these we piled
into our carriage.
Bravo, bravo,
Luisa!" was the crowd's
greeting as we left the stage door. The pavements from the theatre to my home were lined, even at that late hour, with large numbers of people, all of
whom
seemed to be shouting congratulations
of the occupants of the houses along the carriage-way picked the flowers, damp with the
to me.
Some
night dew, from their gardens and threw them into our carriage. The scene suggested to me the old triumphal processions of ancient Borne which my
history master not so long since used to describe to me in glowing language. Time after time have
64
My
Life of
Song
I witnessed similar scenes after a performance, but none has impressed me as much, as that glorious drive home on the night of my first appearance. There was no false shyness in the way I responded I waved my to the congratulations of Florence. hand and blew kisses in all directions. Some of the younger people ran behind our carriage all the way from the opera house to our home and cheered us as w'e went indoors.
It
was an experience that might
easily
have
turned
my
my
sisters
head, but my mother, my brother and were too wise counsellors to allow me
to develop in that way. They told me that the debut was not the end of the battle; it was but
the beginning. The life would bo always arduous, and if I were to continue as successfully as I had
begun I must work hard, be thoughtful of others, and be sociable always. They told me that my star was unquestionably one of the most lucky in
Many a great prima donna, they had been obliged to pay, herself or through said, her friends, large sums to obtain the opportunity of a debut such as had come my way for nothing. Many worked for years for no salary, while my impresario had already put me on the pay-roll. The salary which had been offered me and which I had cheerfully accepted seemed to me then to be
a big sum $100 a month. I laugh when I com pare it with the amounts that I have since earned, though there are many young women in these post war days who would call themselves fortunate if they were earning $25 weekly at sixteen.
the firmament.
Prima Donna
at Sixteen
65
It w:as past three tlie following morning before we finished discussing all the exciting events at
tending
my
debut.
We
were
all
in
when we finally broke up. My family had gathered at my bedside and had hung the huge bouquets all round the which then looked more like room,
a floral exhibition than a maiden's boudoir. Events moved swiftly after that debut in Flor ence. impresario decided almost immediately that I was already sufficiently accomplished to
my
bedroom
My
appear in the capital. Consequently, he made ar rangements for an early debut in Bbmie. I eagerly assented to his proposal, and it was not long after ward that I was journeying to the Borne of which I had heard so mluch but had so far never seen. I 'think I was almost as eager to see the sights
of the capital as to sing in the principal opera house there. I was taken all round the Eternal
City,
and shown many of the
historic sights
which
mind far back in history, to the time of the Caesars and the Holy Koman Empire. I looked down on the yellow Tiber with wondering eyes as I thought of the days when Horatius, after
sent
my
childish
keeping the bridge so valiantly, plunged into its deep waters. The Appian Way, along which the triumphant Eoman armies marched, and which was once trod by St. Paul the Apostle; the Forum,
where Mark Antony inflamed the populace against Brutus after the death of Caesar; the Colosseum, where the Christians used to be cast alive to the lions these and many more of the sights of our
66
My
Life of
Song
beloved capital thrilled my young being during those wonderful early days in Romie. But there was not too much time to be squan dered on seeing the wonders of the town rehearsals had to be attended daily, and as the Court and all the ladies and gentlemen attached to it, as well as many other great personages, nobles, statesmen and other exalted residents in the capital, were expected to be present, there was every reason why the opera company should be tuned up to the high est possible standard of perfection. I was again to be the prima donna. Yet the great significance of this honor, I am afraid, I did not completely appreciate at the time. I had no doubt as to my ability to carry the role through with complete success, but I did not fully apprehend the risk
;
which the impresario was running in placing so young an artist on the stage before the illustrious company that was expected to be present, "She may keep her nerve in her own Florence, but when
singing before the Royal Family, the nobles, and all the big men and women of the capital she may lose her head, and the performance end disastrous
ly.'
This would have been the natural argumient of most impresarios who had the interests of their theatre at heart. My impresario, however, was as confident as I was myself. It had been decided to present the same opera that I had been playing in Florence, L'Africana, and I was to continue in the part of Inez. At this time the power behind the throne of the opera
7
Prima Donna
at Sixteen
67
world was Donna Lina Crispi, a lady wlio was recognized as the leader of Roman society. She made it a practice to attend all rehearsals and to criticise freely. I soon found that any suggestion made by her was always based on a very profound knowledge and was law to us all There are two soprano parts in L Africana, Selika and Inez At the general rehearsal the soprano who sang as Selika went terribly flat dur ing the great sextette scene, dragging all down with her, which left me to support alone the whole fabric of the music, After the unaccompanied portion
the orchestra failed to take up the accompaniment again. To the maestro s curt demand as to why
they had failed to come in,, they replied that the singere had fallen nearly a tone and had left them out in the cold As we were going out I remember asking what. would be the consequence if at the performance the next night the singing went flat again. Then someone standing near said: "Signorina Tetrazzini, when they sing so badly at gen eral rehearsal you can always be sure that the opening performance will go magnificently. It has always been so, and it always will be so. I, Donna
Lina Crispi, say so."
of the opera house
felt
It
who
was the lady autocrat spoke, and so impressed
had I been with her knowledge of opera that I her prophecy would be fulfilled. The morning of the opening performance the conductor, the maestro Usiglio, gave me some " words of counsel. During the unaccompanied
68
My
Life of
Song
portion of the great sextette yon miust keep your eye on me, and I will give you the cues," said he. "When I hear Selika singing flat I will make a
it seems that it was a great deal of a girl of sixteen to make her asking debut in the capital before the Court, and to adjust her voice so as to assist others who might drop
sign for you to sing sharp, others up." On reflection
1
and
this will pull the
out of tune.
was then that I began to realize first the real meaning of stage fright. Even supposing I did not go wrong myself before that august assembly, I might yet be dragged down to perdition by the
It
others.
The evening came, and the King and Queen came too. I saw them in the royal box from behind the curtain. I had never seen either of their Majesties before, and the state of my thoughts and feelings at this supremo moment can bo easily conjectured. There was so much to think about:
the Royal Family, my Borne debut, the possibility of the company going flat, of my missing the cue
from the conductor, my own nerves breaking down, and perhaps a bad break in my amazing run of good luck. But Donna Lina Orispi was right. We sang our way through *UAfricans that night in a manner which the Press generally conceded
Certainly the flattering nature of the language used in describing my work was all that any debutante could desire. At the end of the great unaccompanied sextette there was
to be almost faultless;
Prima Donna
at Sixteen
69
a pause, and the audience, realizing that the repre sentation had been flawless from beginning to end, then gave forth such a volley of cheers, accom
panied by clapping and waving of hands, as is rarely heard in Rom'e. It was during that performance that I acci dentally produced a phenomenal note. Instead of finishing up on E, as I intended and as the score ordered, I found myself singing a note a full octave
The note came as clearly as it did unexpectedly. It was heard with general sur prise all over the opera house, and many people who had been turned away, and were listening out side in the hope of hearing some of the higher notes, caught it distinctly and discussed it excited ly. "Wherever did you get that note?" I was asked afterward; to which I was obliged to answer that I did not know. This answer was absolute truth. I had never tried to get it until then, and did not know I was capable of producing it. When
higher, the
alt.
E
achieved it is usually thin or cloudy, but that note came forth as full and round and easy as any of the others. Since then I have touched higher notes without difficulty, but I have never forgotten the surprise I felt when I first produced the E alt. It was this note which caused the mild sensation at my last London recital. I had not intended to try
it is
so high a flight during well to work gradually It
my first song, as it is always
up
to the
mountain peaks.
the voice with
was
ifity
intention to
warm up
smaller arias, but the
programme was not arranged
70
My
Life of
Song
according to
my plan. Before that vast concourse of people I felt slightly nervous at the beginning, and was not fully prepared when the time came
throw out that high note, so I did not attempt it. The audience, however, were very generous with their applause, and it was during the long
to
burst of "cheering that I decided to sing the last
line over again, I tried the note quietly before I turned to the pianist, and found that it would come
quite readily. And so it did. The second outburst of cheering was far greater than the first, and was so genuine that it convinced me that I had done
the right thing. Of course, if I had been singing in Italy I should not have attempted to retrieve
an unfortunate miss in this way. But I was in England, and had learned from: many previous
experiences with the English public that they al ways appreciate an artist who does the unusualmore particularly if she does not happen to be of
their
nationality. The newspapers nice about Tetrazzini's first public
own
were very slip and her
immediate recovery. It was, in truth, the first time that I had failed to get this note from the time of my Rome debut until then, and it has come without an effort since. I am now more
careful, however, not to attempt the great flights too soon after I take the stage, and I would counsel
anyone who aspires to be an international prima donna always to watch her impresario carefully, resisting resolutely any attempt to insert the most difficult aria into the beginning of the programme.
CHAPTER V
THE QUEEN'S PROPHECY
THE
to
sing.
day after my debut in Rome there came a I was informed that delightful surprise. the Queen wished to hear me sing at a com mand performance at the royal palace. My de light at this new honor was somlewhat modified when I heard the name of the opera Wagner *s 'Tristan und Isolde from which I was expected
Though I was thoroughly at home in most of the masterpieces, I had never studied the part of Wagner's great heroine. Of course, I had often heard of this tremendous work of Wagner, and was painfully aware that some
of the glorious arias written for the famous char I had acter Isolde were exceedingly difficult.
heard that this powerful drama was regarded as the greatest expression in all music of passionate love, and that it had been inspired by a woman
who
camle into
Wagner's
life
when
his musical
genius had reached As I did not know the part, the Queen, confident of my ability quickly to learn it, sent her own maestro to instruct me. I applied mlyself eagerly to "the task of learning what I was then informed was the Qiieen's fayorite opera, and it was not
full maturity.
71
72
My
Life of
Song
long before I was taken to the royal palace. There, in the presence of the Boyal Family and a large gathering of distinguished persons, I sang some of tragic Isolde's beautiful songs. During the excitement behind the scenes which
followed the close of the performance a royal messenger came to me and stated that Her Ma jesty the Queen commanded my appearance before
My heart beat fast on hearing the message, I was quivering with excitement as I hurried and to obey the royal command. My head was already whirling with the sensations of the past few days, and I was now fearful as to what I should say when Her Majesty greeted me. I thought out one or two pleasing phrases, but of course I forgot
her.
them when I was in the presence of the Qu.een. There was one question which Her Majesty put to me which I wished very much that I had been
prepared for. "You sang marvellously well, Signorina Tetrazzini," said the Queen, smiling graciously as I en
tered
and made
my
curtsy.
Then Her Majesty
in their early in later life, I was
asked
'teens
me my
age.
Like
all girls
and unlike all women anxious to be thought very young. Without not hesitation I told Her Majesty that I was twentythree.
The Queen seemed surprised at my answer, "But you don't look it," she said; so I suppose I
this the
must have looked younger than I thought. After Queen made a remark which caused me I will make a prophecy about a thrill of pleasure.
* '
The Queen's Prophecy
you/' said the Queen, becomie a very great
73
artist
"I prophesy that you and have a very
will
dis
tinguished career." Needless to say, the kindly words of my Queen occupied my thoughts for a long time after that
first
pleasant interview. My feelings during those days are almost inde When I told my friends what I had scribable.
said to the
to
Queen as to my age they were very much concerned. They pointed out the folly of adding
not unusual for a woman of twenty-three to appear as a prima donna on the operatic stage, but it is phenomenal for a girl of
my
years.
"It
is
sixteen to do so/' they said. Her Majesty, they argued, instead of thinking less of me because of
my
youth, would have been the more impressed. I then very much regretted having hidden my true age. As, however, I had been invited to sing at the royal palace, I was able to console myself with the reflection that I could not have done myself very much harm.
over
My impresario in those days was greatly jubilant my success and at the money that was rolling
He
raised
into the box-office at the opera house.
my salary from $100 a month the figure for which I had been singing in Florence to $200 a month, which then seemed to me truly magnificent
wages,
never weary of reflecting upon those hal cyon days of my Rome debut. I recall that I used to say to myself: "No matter what anyone says,
I
am
74
My
Life of
Song
a real prima donna, even though I am only a girl. I have appeared before the Eoyal Family, I have spoken with the Queen and been praised for my singing by the greatest lady in the
I
am now
land,
great career.
and the Queen says I am going to have a I danced and laughed and sang for
' 7
joy during those fleeting early days. I revelled in my life. Everyone was kind to me. Everyone seemed anxious to do what he (or she) could to mlake my every minute as enjoyable as possible. The world I lived in seemed to be an earthly fairy land. I began to be known in the capital. As I walked about the streets with my friends I would see someone drawing another's attention to me. " There is Signorina Tetrazinni, the youngest prim!a donna/' or "She is our new nightingale. Everybody is going to the opera to hear her," were
phrases which I was frequently overhearing in What young girl is there who would not feel a warm glow of pleasure as she heard people speaking her name and eulogizing her talent as she moved about the capital of her native country! And I must admit that I was very conscious of
Eome.
and
gratified at the public interest which my pres ence in Rome aroused. I have many other pleasant recollections of the
Queen who was so kind to me during those early days in Eome. Only last June I received a letter from Her Majesty now the Dowager Queen Marjgherita
inviting
me
to the royal palace to sing
a
few songs to her in private.
Gladly I obeyed the
The Queen's Prophecy
75
summons, and Her Majesty greeted me in her cus tomary gracious way and reminded me of the Rome
to see that
"I am very happy, Signorina Tetrazzini, my prophecy was fulfilled,' said Her Majesty. There was an abundance of real feel
debut.
5
ing in her tones which reminded me of her man ner of speaking when, as a girl, T was first called into her presence. Although Queen Margherita's hair has now grown white, she is still a very beau tiful woman, and has retained the charm and sweetness of manner for which she has always been famed. After we had spoken about the prophecy, Her Majesty mentioned my sister Eva, and asked when she first became a singer. I told Her Ma jesty that Eva had been singing a long time before I began. Then the Queen asked me to sing again some of those delightful arias from Tristan uncfi Isolde which I sang to her as a girl Afterward I mentioned that I was about to embark on my farewell tour through America, and the Queen wished me every success. Then she declared that I must; not think of finishing my career for many years. "I shall not allow you to do that yet," she said, sweetly imperious; and then added, "You must
,
come and sing to me again.' When the Queen, followed by her ladies-in-waiting, swept gracefully
7
out,
I blew a kiss in her direction. As I did so the Queen saw me. A smile lighted her sweet face. " She bowed and said: Thank you, Signorina Tet razzini." Before I left the palace I received a
beautiful autographed photograph of
Her Maj-
76
My
which
is
Life of
Song
in the music salon at
esty,
now hanging
my own palace in Rome. When m$- first season in Rome
ended I received
an invitation to go to Buenos Aires as the prima donna in the chief opera house in Argentina. It was a very tempting offer that was dangled before my eyes. It was made by an impresario who had heard me sing in Rome. I was eager to accept, but my relatives at first raised objection on account of
my
youth. Finally they changed their attitude and, far from placing obstacles in my way, did all
they could to speed me on my journey. lady chaperon was engaged to accompany me. mother stood on the quay weeping as I was about to depart. When I saw her cry I wanted to aban don the project, but I felt that it would be unwise to do so. I tried to cheer her by saying that I should now be earning so much m'oney that I should be able to send her large sums to spend on herself. The salary that I had been offered was $1,400 a month, a figure fourteen times as much as
'I
A
My
received in
was paid in Florence, seven times as much as I Rome, and almost as much as was then paid to an English Cabinet Minister. Most remiarkable of all to me was the fact that I, still a girl in my 'teens, was to obtain it through my own efforts. My offer to send my mother some of the golden harvest which was to be gathered from my voice did not cheer her as much as it did me. I remember that my mother, still weeping bitterly, said as we parted: "I shall be here to meet you
The Queen's Prophecy
when you return
which I
replied,
77
at the
end of the season," to
It will
Neither my mother nor I then fore saw what would happen to m& in musical South America, to which I was proceeding. Certainly neither of us thought that it would be J: our long years before we saw each other again. Yet so it was. When I did return it was to find my mother and relatives so weary with waiting that they had almost abandoned the hope of seeing "Baby Tetrazzini" again. My mother at first was rather cross with me for remaining away so long.
not be long.
"
"Oh,
yes, dear mother.
Save for an attack of seasickness, the voyage from Genoa to Buenos Aires was for the main part enjoyable and uneventful. I used to dress as a minstrel and sing Neapolitan airs to entertain
the other passengers. I loved these enjoyable im promptu concerts in the saloon and on the deck,
from what I then heard and still occasionally hear from others who remember the voyage, the other passengers enjoyed them too. When I was not singing or receiving requests
and,
for a song, I used to dance about the decks or emh bark on a little voyage of discovery on my own
I explored the old vessel from stem to stern, from quarter-deck to the remote parts of the hold. As it was my first experience of sea life, I
account.
was
the
athirst for first-hand
knowledge of everything
that went on aboard ship. I asked the old salts names of the various parts of the ship, and
they readily enough told
me
all
that I wished to
78
My
Life of
Song
Sometimes they would take from their in exhaustible story-chest some old yarn of the sea, an account of a thrilling shipwreck, tlie story of a record gale, a tale of a mysterious island or a strange sea monster, and recount it to me in a manner so serious that they might have been tell ing the Gospel story. I listened to their wonderful and som'ewhat eerie stories for hours, and some times would reconstruct them and be the heroine
know.
of
them as I
slept in
my
cabin at night while the
ship, rolling and heaving, bore me on to the new world almiost in the wake of Columbus, to a bigger life, full of promise and perhaps wealth and inter
national fame.
One day
as I
was pursuing
my
found myself in the cook's cabin. always, a strong smell of burning fat and an abundance of smoke and steam. As I was about to leave I noticed that the smoke seemed to be in creasing with alarming rapidity. Then flames be gan to come from the great whirling smoke-ball, and it was obvious to me that the galley had caught In those days of my 'teens I did not know, 'fire. as I know now, that the enemy most dreaded by all
fire. hurricane comes, and the sailor a wild north-easter only makes him turn laughs up the collar of his oilskins; but the mention of fire will turn the hardiest viking pale. fire
explorations I There was, as
sailors is
;
A
A
aboard
joke.
A
my
first
little
ship I regarded as something of a extra excitement, I thought, and
settle
then
we should
down
to the
normal
life
of
The Queen's Prophecy
song and dance and expectation. But I lost no time in running to the captain's cabin to tell him of what I had seen in the cook's galley. Imme diately the captain understood the purport of my words, he dropped everything he must have been dressing and put his head out of the cabin, and with a face pale as death exclaimed, "All right! All right! I come quick. I come at once!" His head disappeared for a second, and then he came flying from his cabin and, without waiting to speak to me, doubled across the deck to the cook's gal little commotion followed, a number of ley. orders were excitedly given, sand was thrown into the galley, and within a few minutes the danger was over. Afterward I was thanked for having hurried to the captain with the information before
A
the fire
had obtained too powerful a hold. It was pointed out that if the alarm had not been given so quickly we might have had to spend many try ing hours in open boats, even if nothing worse had
befallen us.
for me, I am! afraid I treated the whole affair with great levity. The sight of the captain's startled face and the undignified way in
As
which he skipped across the deck
that I
wias so
funny
could not help laughing heartily as I watched him. Save for this incident the voyage
was unexciting.
early seasickness I enjoyed the novelty of the passage on that small ocean-going steamer, though I have to admit that.
After I recovered from
my
I
am not
fond of travelling by
sea.
For
this rea-
80
My
Life of
Song
son I have never yet accepted an invitation to tour Australia, although many lucrative offers have been made to me to visit that important British continent. Probably I shall never see Australia. The few comforts of that first voyage now seem very insignificant compared with a passage on a
modern
liner. The Mauretania^ to my delight, survived the great war, although her sister CunI arder, the Lusitania, suffered a terrible fate.
have travelled in the former vessel more often than in any other liner afloat. Whenever I cross the Atlantic I usually occupy a suite fitted with a little kitchenette on which my special dishes are pre pared for me and I take aboard a tiny travelling piano, which I find very useful in keeping my voice in practice, for I am able to spend some hours daily at voice exercise in the welcome seclusion of
;
this private suite.
Though the then President of Argentina (Saenz Pena) was not a frequent attendant at the opera house in Buenos Aires before my arrival, it was, however, a hard and fast rule that the opera which
the President loved the best should
first be given each opera season* The President's favor during ite happened to be Lucia di Lammermoor, one of Donizetti's works, in three acts, founded on the novel by Sir Walter Scott. It is a much criticized
Nevertheless, its ever fresh and expressive melodies are very pleasing and had a great hold on
opera.
our grandfathers. From my point of view no opera could have been selected which gave me a
The Queen's Prophecy
81
greater opportunity,, for Lucia's arias have more possibilities for the prima donna than any of the other operas. For this reason Lucia di Lammer-
moor
is
now
generally
known
as the
prima donna's
Like most operas, it ends in tragedy. the soprano heroine, Mils her false husband, Lucia, Lord Arthur Buckland, then stabs herself. Her
opera.
real lover, hearing of the tragedy, then betakes himself to the burying place of his fathers and
falls
upon his own sword. I sang the part of Lucia during fifty-four per formances. From the first night that I appeared until the last night of the season the opera house was packed at every performance. I was told that not within the memory of anyone in Buenos Aires
had there been so successful an opera season. One of the most remarkable features of this season was the presence of the President at the opera every time I appeared. His frequent appearance was the more noteworthy because he had achieved a reputation for deep piety and for constant at tendance, both Sundays and week-days, at church. His nightly visits to the opera became the talk of the Press and of the whole town. The writers,
particularly, were never tired of commenting upon the spell of voice under which, they said, he
my
had
fallen.
When, some time afterward,
ill
the
President was taken
and died certain of the
more irreverent writers, speaking of how my voice had dragged him from his usual haunts to the
82
My
Life of
Song
of his love for
theatre, declared that he
had died
Tetrazzini, which I thought was rather unkind.
The President was a short, thick-set gentleman, who was always kindly disposed toward ine. I remember that when the time came for me to give
my
performance as Lucia he organized a great fete in my honor. The theatre was festooned with flags, flowers and the gayest bunting. All the
fiftieth
important people in the Republic, including three It was a night of ex-presidents, were present. and encores and general gaiety. It would cheering have been morning if I had responded to all the ovations I received. Everyone w ho could afford it seemed to have brought a large bouquet of beau tiful blooms to the theatre that night. At every break in the performance some of these gorgeous flowers would be thrown on to the stage at my feet. When the performance ended the back of the stage
r
and
my own
wealth of
floral gifts.
dressing-room were piled high with a During one of the inter
vals the President, airtid general acclamations, presented me with a beautiful diamond star. Later, in my dressing-room, I pinned the star to dress, and from there went to the President's box to thank him and his wife for the gift. The Presi dent invited me inside, and then me to
my
presented
the public.
Immediately they saw me in the Presi dent 's box all rose and, waving their hands, " It shouted, "Viva, Tetrazzini Viva, President was an unforgettable scene.
1
!
From
that time
onward I could not move about
The Queen's Prophecy
83
Buenos Aires without attracting attention from the emotional crowds in the capital. I was earn ing such a high salary that I had mloney to spend on horses and carriages, as my old maestro had
correctly foreshadowed. As I drove through the town or in the park I was invariably recognized,
and the people brought little baskets of violets and threw them into the carriage or on to the carriage way. Surely no queen could have enjoyed greater popularity than I during those wonderful early days in South America. When, many years later, I came to London and was lionized in much the same way, I would smile to myself, for London was taking to itself whatever credit there was for
discovering in
stress.
a new, great, international song Londoners did not know, or had forgotten,
me
the remarkable public demonstrations which had followed my appearance in South America. Some of my friends tell m'e that I have been discovered
many
times. They say that Florence, Rome, Bue nos Aires, Petrograd, London, Madrid, New York all claim to have discovered me; and then jok ingly they proceed to tell me that India and the Far E ast may yet claim to have first found in me a prima donna of pre-eminence. Despite the re
;
marks of
my friends, I shall always keep green the
of those enthusiastic music lovers in the
memory
Argentine Eepublic and the generous reception they gave me. On one occasion after I had been singing the
children stopped
my
carriage, took
my
horses out,
to
and themselves drew me through the town
my
84
My
residence.
Life of
Song
own
excitable
sisted
On another night some of the men who had been to the opera in young
on pulling my carriage round the town. was late, however, and I was very tired, so I asked them if they would do me two favors. " Yes,
It
signorina," they shouted back. "What are they?" I told them that my sister was due to sing at the opera house the next night, and I wanted them to
come along and give her the same enthusiastic welcome that they had always given to me. "Yes, yes! We will do it," they answered back. My other request was to be taken straight home, as I was tired out. They turned the carriage round,
and, pulling with all their energy, quickly reached my house. They also kept their word in regard to
my sister. The
next night the house was crowded,
and when Eva appeared they accorded her a tumultuous welcome before she sang a note. My horses were a beautiful pair, coal black, and full of dash and fettle. I used to drive them my self. One day these lively animals bolted and made for a railway crossing at a momfent when a train was approaching at full speed. As I saw the
train I lost
my
nerve.
Closing
my
eyes,
I said to
myself, "I am lost," and waited for the terrific crash which then seemed unavoidable. But it did
not come!
gentleman who had observed what was happening dashed up to mhf frightened ani mals, grabbed their bridles, and pulled them up just in time to prevent a horrible smash. It was a full week before I recovered from the shock of
A
The Queen's Prophecy
those few exciting moments.
85
i
Of
course, all the
town soon knew what had happened, for the Press
published the story to explain
my
absence that
week from the
opera.
CHAPTER VI
IMPBESAEIO
in my 'teens I essayed the It was of diva-impresario. during my first memorable season in the beautiful and modern Buenos Aires that the idea
still
WHILE
difficult role
was first formed in my mind. "If all Latin Americans are such lovers of music as the citizens of Buenos Aires, an opera tour
through Argentina should prove a very lucrative I hazarded this remark to a mixed undertaking. of artists, most of them Latin Ataericompany cans, after one of our performances in Buenos Aires, the applause of the departed audience still
' '
echoing through my brain. To my astonishment the suggestion of an opera tour through Argentina aroused no enthusiasm
among
my company. "Touring never pay in South America," opera companies declared an experienced baritone, speaking as one with authority. "I know that to my cost. Once I went on tour through the Republic. It was my Before we first and shall be my last experience. had completed a fifth of the tour we were doing so badly that we had to pawn our opera clothes We never completed the to buy food and beds.
other
86
members of
I
Turn Impresario
miles back to the streets of
The tenor and I walked 150 Buenos Aires, singing for food in the cities on the route home." The gloomy reminiscences of this were supported by others present.
tour.
aged baritone All had some
harrowing tale to tell of unsuccessful tours in which they had participated, and not one of the more experienced singers seemed ready to take
jewels from! the treasury of grand opera to the country folk of Argentina. The general pessim ism, I am afraid, only the more stimulated me to try my luck as the manageress of a touring opera
company.
so far into these pages divined ere now, I am of a very have probably buoyant nature and am a born optimist as well as a born singer. I could sing before I could speak in my mind I was a prima donna before I sat for
As
those
who have read
;
my
That others had tried and failed always made me more keen than I should otherwise have been to try myself. "Very well," I said, and I am not now sorry for my sublime
first rnttsic lesson.
to take a little company the cities in the hinterland of this on tour through Republic. It may be a failure, but I think it will
confidence.
"I am going
be a success.
to be exclaimed one of the impulsive in successful!" but strumentalists, and some of the others agreed; the older and wiser heads were shaken in dissent.
come with me?" "Oh, signorina, if you are coming it is sure
will
Who
very different from the provin cial cities," said a grey-haired 'cellist. "Here come
"Buenos Aires
is
My
and The
live the
is
Life of
Song
wealthy persons of the whole State. capital cosmopolitan and our takings are
,
largely
drawn from visitors to this town from the United States and other countries. The people of
the towns inland have neither money nor time, if indeed the liking, for grand opera. " These or words of similar purport were general at this our impromptu council of war. Neverthe less, I was not to be shaken from my project, and
set quietly to
work
collecting a sm&ll
company of
accomplished singers and instrumentalists, and made ready to start immediately upon the conclu sion of our remarkable first season at Buenos
Aires.
In view of the eagerness shown by impresarios ever since, I think it very remarkable that, despite my success in the capital, no impresario at that time seemed anxious to take me on tour through South America. My own impresario attempted to dissuade mie from my projected tour, and assured me that I should lose in a few weeks all the money I had made since I landed in Argentina. Never
theless, the
started, I, the youngest of the full charge, making 'myself party, taking respon sible for all receipts and payments. it is
company
Perhaps
almost unnecessary to state, in view of what I have already written, that good fortune consistently at tended me in South America, the tour of the little company never being for a moment in danger of
failing.
the first performance in the first city at which we halted to the last we were a sue1
From
I
Turn Impresario
89
Not only did we collect sufficient to pay all expenses and all salaries, but there was money left to share as bonus at the end of the run. After we had demonstrated that it was possible to tour opera and to make the tour show a profit, as was only to be expected there were plenty of impresarios ready and anxious to take the com pany through the Republic at the end of the next season and although, in a measure, I enjoyed look ing after the business side of grand opera, I was not sorry, because of the many duties I was there by saved, to hand over the control to a business manager during the succeeding tours.
cess.
;
Many diverting incidents occurred on that first tour in which I was prima donna and impresario in one. I recall an amusing incident which hap pened when I arrived at Salta, a town in the prov
ince of
Buenos Aires. The governor (a title which corresponds to a mayor in England or in the United States) prepared to give me a royal wel come. Instead of merely coming to the station, he came by train and met nue half-way on my jour
ney, bringing for me a large basket of cerimolla, a very delicious fruit indigenous to this part of the world, a welcome gift on a burning day for a traveller in one of the cramped railway carriages
then in general use.
Although the governor sent
guard to avoid delays, as the Italian was aboard, we were three hours late nightingale
to the
word
in arriving at Sialta town. When we reached Salta the whole
community
90
My
Life of
Song
so cordial
satisfied a
was awaiting, and gave me a welcome and demonstrative that it would have
Chinese empress. "Heavens, whatever is happen ing ?" I exclaimed to the governor, as the train pulled up and I saw the station, the approach and even the telegraph poles alive with people. "They have all come to welcome you, signorina,"
answered the governor, smiling grandly. "They all know of Tetrazzini, and so they have comie to see what you are like."
Here was I start little operatic venture for which the ex had prophesied failure there were to be few perts or no patrons, and I was to lose in a few weeks all my earnings of the past season I was to return a sadder and a wiser woman after having experi
ing on a
;
;
My feelings may be imagined.
enced the usual fate of the ambitious impresario in the hinterland of Argentina. Yet at the first town of any importance that I visited I Avas ac corded this astonishing reception. I saw that a festive red carpet had been spread across the sta tion platform and laid right out to where the carriages awaited the governor, myself and my company. Flowers were heaped high on the plat form, were waved to me from hundreds of out
stretched hands, and were spread over the car riage and even on the carriage-way. As we stepped from the railway car all the church bells of the town began to peal merrily in
honor of Tetrazzini. ward informed me
Some high
somewhat
dignitary after naively, I saw
I
Turn Impresario
91
that the church authorities
had argued that the
pealing of the bells would bring the people into the town from the outlying districts, and these would bring money to the town and incidentally,
?
to the coffers of the church as well.
was dark as, leaning on the arm of the gov ernor, I was escorted across the platform to the State carriage. The people swarmed thickly about the carriage to see me. One exceptionally daring spirit, before the driver had started, actually leaned in at the open doorway and struck a match
It
in
my
tric
Those were the days before the elec torch became popular. This conduct did not
face.
appeal to me at the momlent, but the displeased look on my face evidently had no dampening effect "Excuse me, upon this remarkable person. but are you really TetrazzimJ" he asked, madam, speaking quite coolly. I replied that I was. Still
staring interestedly into my face, he waited until the vesta had burned itself out then, with a word
;
of thanks
and an apology, he withdrew. The State coach was not too roomy, and when the head and
shoulders of
my
huge
visitor
were thrust inside
there was very little space left Many were the delightful experiences of those days in South America. I remember that at Tucu-
the governor came to see me and cajolingly announced that near by was a little town he would very much like me to visit. I was willing, as
man
always, to go almost anywhere, and so one day a party of us took the train for the township the
92
My
Life of
Song
governor had mentioned. After a short journey by rail, I arrived at a station at which was now the inevitable committee of ladies and gentlemen
local notables
welcome.
of
waiting to give me an official Then I first learned of the real object
It
my
visit.
was decidedly
novel.
"Signorina," they said, formalities were over, "we without an enclosure." I eyes slightly, as I could not
welcoming have here a cemetery
after the
remember raising my quite appreciate what
is
was coming.
not good for the township or our dead, for there is nothing to keep the wild animals out. Consequently the the graves and root up the hyenas prowl among bodies of our dead. Such a terrible state of things should not be, should it, signorina?" Still slightly mystified, I agreed with them. "Now, we wish to ask you to sing for us, and so to
They proceeded: "This
money to build a wall around our dead to them inviolate." I am afraid in those early keep days I was almost tempted to laugh at the unusual nature of the request. I had already sung for many quaint and novel objects, but not before, or
raise the
since,
have I ever been asked to use
of preventing hyenas
my
voice as a
means
from desecrating the dead. Nevertheless, I recognized the worthy nature of the object and asked if there were a theatre in the town in which I could sing. "No," they sorrowfully admitted. "We have
here only a fine large piazza" (an open square).
I
Turn Impresario
93
"But I can't sing in a piazza/' I objected. Then someone made an offer. "If you will promise to sing we will have a
theatre built ready for you to sing in within five days, and we will guarantee that it will be packed to the doors as well."
The proposition seemed impossible, but the speaker was in dead earnest, and I consented. I
did not then believe that a theatre could be run up in the time mentioned. But it was The Yankee hustle for which the United States is famous is not
!
confined to the northern There is a good deal of
it
part of the continent. among the Latins of
Argentina. Nevertheless, the man who actually made himself responsible for the work was a Bostonian He owned the largest sawmill in the place
!
there were sawmills everywhere and gave all the timber, all the nails, and most of the push. Another resident came forward and offered the
courtyard of his own establishment, and this offer accepted. Others stepped forth and gave vol untary help in constructing the place. I remember going down to the works to watch the novel theatre grow. Such a clattering and banging there was but the theatre was literally taking shape before my eyes. In less than five days the roof was on,
was
;
and only the detailed inside work remained to be done. Red, white and blue draperies suddenly made their appearance, and these, tastefully hung
inside the great
new
very attractive.
A
building, helped to
make
it
stage
had been
fitted up,
and
94
"
My
Life of
Song
royal" box had been made for the use of the governor. On the fifth day everything was ready for my concert. All the seats had been sold out
a
for days, and since the building had cost nothing, provided I appeared and the people had no occa
sion to
demand their money back, the funds neces sary for the new cemetery wall were well secured. The railroad company, I remember, rose to the occasion. They allotted two special trains to take my company and others from Tucumlan to this little township, and each of these trains was loaded to the full. As for the performance, it was a very sombre affair. To mark the serious object of the evening, everyone present was dressed in deep black all the members of my company, the instru mentalists, and I too, were all in mourning garb.
;
were a dismally apparelled assem I sang Gounod's Ave Maria and Pinsuti's bly. Libra Sacro, and then for a novelty my small com pany and the little orchestra which had come out from Tucuman gave Lucia di Lammermoor. De spite the solemn appearance of the auditors and company, we were loudly applauded for our ef forts. The expenses of the company and the or
certainly
total takings
We
chestra I paid out of m(y own pocket, so that the 5,000 Argentine dollars were all profit, and were handed over to the cem'etery wall
fund.
the close of the performance the governor leaped from! his box on to the stage, and then lifted across a
little girl
At
carrying a velvet cushion.
He
I
Turn Impresario
95
made a brief speech in wMcli he thanked everyone who had taken part in the novel effort, and then
declared, amid surprise and tumultuous applause, that the theatre, once built, could not now be de
molished.
must ever remain as the home of township. Then calling for a bottle of champagne, he broke it at the neck and christened the new wooden five days' old structure
It
opera for the
little
the
" Theatre Luisa Tetrazzini." Then he beckoned the little girl to his side and took from the cushion she carried a beautiful gold medal bearing my initials in diamonds and rubies. This he presented to me in the name of the citizens of the town, at which I was greatly delighted. I recall with the deepest regret that this generous gift, with thirteen others received during my South American stay, was later stolen from me. But the "Theatre Luisa Tetrazzini" still stands and flour ishes to this day. I would love once more to sing in it, but I am afraid that I shall never again have the courage to risk another long sea voyage to
1
those delightful South
American
States.
re-
To one South American town (Rosario) I
mjember I returned no fewer than seven times, and just before the end of my last visit one of those crowds to which I was becoming used collected out side my hotel. I was seated at dinner when the waiter came to tell me that the crowd was outside and calling for me. I left the table and went to the balcony, where I made a little speech promis ing to return. I thought then I should reappear
96
My
Life of
Song
the
in Rosario for certain within a year or two; but war came, and I have not been back. The
sisted
crowd was not content with my speech; they in upon my singing to them from the balcony. I have always avoided open-air singing, except in circumstances so pressing that it was unwise to That night I sang Santuzza's aria in refuse. Cavalleria Eusticana, and felt no ill effects of the outdoor effort. Though the crowd seemed to en joy "Voi lo sapete," I felt that they were disin clined to let me sing any other part than that of Lucia, for which South America seemed to have an insatiable thirst from the day of my first land
ing.
second tour south of the Equator I was prima donna in a company which included the great tenor Tamagno. Now Tamagno, as every one who knows anything of music is aware, has a voice that can only be described as tremendous. So great and powerful is his fine voice that he can, if he likes, drown all the other singers and Those who have almost the orchestra as well. heard Tamagno will not readily associate him with
the role of Edgardo in this famous opera. Yet he sang it to my Lucia. It happened in this way. By some oversight the tenor who should have taken that role had not been engaged, or else at the last moment, as tenors sometimes do, had remained
On my
behind in Italy.
Anyway, the manager (Ferrari),
shortly after we arrived, was in a state of despair. "What are we to do for Signorina Tetrazzini's
I
Turn Impresario
97
debut?" lie demanded, tearing Ms hair. "She must sing Lucia. Where are we to find a tenor? There is no one in South Ataerica who can do this part as I want it done for the signorina's debut !"
Then up spake Tamagno.
i i
I will sing with Lucia,
will
'
?
he declared.
And
sing
he
did.
drown me, Tamagno," I remem ber protesting to him before the performance. "Oh, dear no, signorina," he answered. "I'll sing quietly, and you sing as loudly as you can. We shall go well together." I was by no means reassured. I knew what would happen. Tamagno would start quietly with the full intention of giv ing me a chance, and then he would forget himself, his audience and me, and throw the whole force
"But YOU
mighty lungs into the part. And this was exactly what did happen. Although when I sing with any other tenor I have no diffi
of his
culty in
making myself heard, I do not think any
powerful-voiced Tamagno that night. Certainly I could not hear myself. I knew that I was singing correctly, for there was no discord but all I could hear was the mighty voice of Tamagno, which seemed to be growing steadily in volume with every bar of the
one heard
me
in
my duet with the
;
music.
Several times I whispered to him,, "Do hold in " your voice, Tamagno, or no one will ever hear me. He smiled into my face, said, "Oh! do take a good, deep breath," and then continued with all his
f
98
My
Life of
Song
former vigor.
the vibrations of
The stage actually trembled from Ms enormous voice. But we came through all right, and though I do not know
whether the public heard me in that duet, they were very kind in their acknowledgments both to Tamagno and myself. After the first night the management found a tenor whose voice was more adaptable to mine in this role one of those poor unfortunates (of whom there are so many) who remain in South America, stranded after some failure of an opera company, with no money to take them back to
their
Tamagno, them Les Huguenots, Meyerbeer's The among Prophet (in which I played the part of Bertha and Taroagno his favorite part of John, leader of the Anabaptists), and also in William Tell, Ros sini's greatest work. In this opera Tamagno was Arnold, the son of Tell's friend, and I was Matilda, Arnold's sweetheart. Other members of that com pany were the great Sammarco and the tenor Borgatti, who had a great reputation in Italy and also in South America, which demands and gets the
best artists in the operatic world. Of the many other happy experiences that
into
in sunny Italy. I sang in several other operas with
home
crowd
the
my mind
That
as I write of those wonderful early
days in the Latin republics there comes to memory of my first crossing of the Rio into
video.
me
Monte
city, not to be outdone by its neigh boring rival, decided to give me a reception some-
I
Turn Impresario
99
thing after the fashion of a scene in mediaeval Venice. Small boats gaily decorated with flowers
came out to meet my steamer, and when I landed I found that a carriage, richly upholstered with beautiful, sweet-smelling roses, awaited me, while toy bombs, noisy but harmless, heralded my arrival with a series of explosions which created an effect
suggestive of artillery. Later I went up-river to another town, Salto Orientale, which is about four hours' distance from Montevideo. Here there was another inspir
ing reception.
it
Approaching
my hotel I found that
and as I drew nearer I discovered that my name, Luisa Tetrazzini, was displayed in large flaming letters, made by Bengal These fires' flashed from red fires, across the front. to white, then to green, our Italian colors. There was more to come later, for the municipal band of twenty musicians entered the courtyard of the hotel and serenaded me. By order of the gov ernor all the musicians were dressed in the uni form of our Italian Bersaglieri as a special com
was
brilliantly illuminated,
pliment to myself. When I reflect upon such scenes, which hap pened not once, but almost daily during my first four years in South America, how can I help feel ing proud of those remarkable experiences $ Any one of them sometimes seems to me too good to have been real. As I reflect upon them I ask my self sometimes if ever I really were in South America or did I pass through these remarkable
100
My
Life of
Song
in
events in some beautiful
ish days?
dream back
my
child
some of South America I think there
the penning of this,
Even if it were only to put on record the momentous times I experienced in
is justification
for
my Life of Song. did you never have any dreary times dur ing those early years?" is a question which my friends sometimes ask me; and I have always to
"But
answer "No."
My
friends point out that every
great artist at one time was in the rut. They say that at the start things go badly with all. The
great ones of the stage have had to walk barefooted through the streets of the city that has afterward
worship them. They have gone to an impresario, to be met with a cold stare and the dispiriting rejoinder, "Full up." Then they have turned away disconsolately to tread the muddy streets and wonder if they are to be a failure in the
to
come
Everyone knows this is true. All the great artists I have met have had some story to tell me. of the times "when they were down and out, when no one wanted them, when no one believed they had genius, when they were climbing or attempting to
end.
' '
climb.
But with me
this
was never the
case.
I
began, strangely enough, on the top. From the first public appearance that I made until now I have never had to solicit a position. I have always
had a sheaf of
to tour
letters
from
imlpresarios offering
me
through this lucrative corner or that
tempting part of the world. And I receive them At the moment I have now many invitations still.
I
Turn Impresario
South America as well as
to return to
my beloved
not.
requests to sing in every other continent.
American life I must con IJinlike most women, I have no fear of mice. I can pick up one of these little creatures and hold it in my hand without feeling the slightest repugnance. But there was one ani mated product of South America which was always
aspect of South
fess liked
One
me
a fright- the locust. If one of these insects alighted on dress I fell into a panic.
giving
me
my
As
the South Americans learned to
know me
well
they came to know of my horror of these insects. One evening I was called hack to the stage when there was handed to me over the footlights an
enormous locust made of flowers. At sight of this familiar and dreaded shape I could not repress a little shriek. As the public were aware of the joke that was to be played they very naturally fully
enjoyed this shriek of mine. This was by no means the only jocular tribute to my singing that came my way in South America. One evening I was presented with a floral tribute
in the shape of a bird's nest by a member of the joke-loving Latin audience. The nest seemed to
be lined with red roses, but when I thrust
my
To my amazement most beautiful of the red birds common in South America. But all the jokes that were played on me were invariably harmless and caused as much amusement to me as to those in whose minds they originated.
into it I felt a little peck. out flew a cardinal, one of the
hand
CHAPTER
VII
PRISON AND SEA ADVENTURES
of the strangest ta^ks which I was invited perform during that first year in the Argentine was to call on the President, and, like the suppliant lady who figures prominently in the history of every nation, great or small, beg for the reprieve of one who was languishing in a prison
ONE
to
cell.
Tihe stirring story of the kind-hearted
Eng
lish
Queen Philippa, who, centuries
for the lives of the seven brave
Calais, leapt to
men
ago, begged of conquered
my mind when
the astonishing re
quest was made to me. It was made by two ladies who at one time were prominent in the social world of Buenos Aires. One was a slight woman with silver hair and a face both sweet and lined through many sorrows. The other was a much younger woman, once a fascinating brunette of the rich Spanish type, and still beautiful, although there were grey threads in her wealth of raven-black hair. They were
mother and daughter-in-law, and they had only one point of similarity between them their eyes, which seemed to be full of anguish and yet patient ly expectant of coming relief and future happiness.
They
told
me
that they
had ventured
102
to call in the
Prison and Sea Adventures
interest of a
103
who was
the son of the elder
young man, a lieutenant in tlie navy, woman and the hus
band of the younger.
I have forgotten all the details of the unfortu nate affair for which this young naval officer was then imprisoned. In\so far as I can remember, he was an officer on a vessel which had been wrecked of those aboard only a few, of whom he was one, had been saved. There had been held a court of inquiry whether it was a fair trial or not I do not know. Some said "yes," some said "no." But the inquiry had been held nine years before, when I was a girl about eight years old, and the unfortunate son and husband of these two women who had come to me had been in prison during all these years. I listened interestedly to their sorrow ful story, which made a promfpt and powerful
;
;
appeal to my young and impressionable nature. "It is a very sad story you have told me/' I remember saying. "It is sad for each of you and also for the man you both love. But tell me why you decided to tell it to me." "We came to ask you to help us," answered the
mother, speaking quickly. "We have spent all these nine years trying to get someone interested who is powerful enough to secure his release. We have written to the president many times without avail; we had previously written to his predeces sors, but they did nothing; we have written to the Press they have sometimes taken up the case and demanded another inquiry but nothing more has
;
104
My
And
Life of
Song
to von.
happened.
so
we have come
We
know you can save Mm by a word." Then I saw their meaning. "Is it that you want
to go to the president?" I
:
me
began; and they,
in chorus, broke in with
"Yes,
yes, please.
If you only would."
Then
the boy's mother proceeded: have been reading in the Press, signorina, that the president comes to the opera every time
"We
that you sing, that he
is
entranced by your voice,
that he throws bouquets and purses of gold on to the stage to you, that he has presented you with
a marvellous diamond star, and that he will do anything that pleases you."
"Surely you are overestimating
I remember saying,
passionate outburst.
when
' l
my influence," the old lady ended her
kind to me,
it is true,
The president has been very and has complimented me on
not likely that your presi dent would interfere with the ordinary course of your country's laws to please me, even if he were not offended at an attempt which must seem a presumption by someone from another part of the world to interfere with the government of your
my
singing.
But
it is
country."
said this, or words conveying a similar meaning, I had already decided that here was a case after my own heart. Even should the young
Though I
man
effort to get
prove unworthy, I would make a strenuous him released for the sake of removing
Prison and Sea Adventures
the anguish from the eyes of those two loved hirrv.
105
women who
Yes, we are sure that he will," they declared with emphasis. I shall never forget that pathetic scene in niy private room in my house at Buenos Aires: the silver-haired mother, her aging, anguished eyes, her pleading tones, and the Spanish wife approaching middle age, whose rich beauty alone, I then thought as I sat there, would have caused the sternest official of the republic to have considered favorably any earnest appeal made by her. I remember asking where the sailorofficer was confined. They named the prison and invited me to go and see him. It was not difficult to secure admission to the grim building. Until then I had never seen the interior of a prison-house, though I have since
will.
"Oh! he
gladly responded to an invitation to sing to convicts in jail. My feelings were a mixture of gloom and curiosity as I passed through the great forbidding
gates, across high-walled courtyards, along narrow sunless corridors, and past gangs of hideously
garbed convicts
some of whom surveyed me boldly and shamelessly, others furtively, as though their conscience or memories of the past prevented them from looking other human beings straight in the eye. The contrast between my gay world and theirs sent a gust of deep pity for them all through my ever-sensitive being. Then on again, until we stopped at a narrow door heavily bolted on the out side and locked. My warden-guide drew the bolt,
106
My
Life of
Song
unlocked the door, and I was in the presence Q the ex-naval officer, the man who had already served nine years the best years, perhaps, of his in this dreary house of correction and irk life
some
control.
head resting in his hands, his elbows on his knees, his eyes staring on the floor, met my gaze as I entered. In an instant he was on his feet, looking wonderingly from the warden It was to me and from me back to the warden. and why I had come. quickly explained who I was As he listened a flush of color rushed into his pale face the hopeless, despairing expression which I had observed in his eyes changed hope had come back once more. I have often noticed during my life as a prima donna the truth of what the poets and the sages have written in many languages
figure,
;
;
A
bowed
concerning hope.
human breast." men and women
springs eternal in the I have observed it to be true in
"Hope
Sickness or misfor tune, war or calamity comes, but humanity, how ever badly stricken, will to the end see and cherish a gleam of hope in the bitterest hour; the belief
of all ages.
that there
if
is a silver lining to every cloud is present obscured even in the gloomiest pessimist. When I left the presence of that officer-convict
he was already counting himself a free man, was speaking ecstatically of a new life of liberty in a world where there were no prison bars intervening between him and the glorious sunlight. "Oh, to
Prison and Sea Adventures
107
be free again, Signorina Tetrazzini!" lie breathed as he kissed my hand and bade m-e good-bye.
I heard him uttering thanks and speaking of freedom as the warden locked and bolted Ms door from the outside world and as we were walking
away down
the long, semi-dark corridor. As we went I said to myself: "Luisa Tetrazzini, the
president says there is no singer in the world like you. I will show him that I can do more than sing I can plead for the liberty of a human being.
:
pleadings I will set them to music and try to secure this man's liberty with the magic key of song." From the prison I drove straight to the presi dent's official residence and sent in my card. I
If he will not listen to
my
am
so
when
afraid I was all aflutter as I did so, and more the servant returned almost immediately
' '
with the announcement: "The president will see Before I was shown into the presi you at once. dent 's room I had prepared a simple little speech which I felt assured I could deliver with very telling effect. I had plenty of confidence in myself and little doubt as to the ultimate success of my mission of mercy; but I was not quite prepared for what was to come. Nor did I expect that it was the president who was to score over me by giving
me
a pleasant surprise instead of my surprising him/ with a bold and unusual request. "I "I have come to ask a favor began, when me with: the president sternly interrupted
"Please do not ask
it,
signorina."
108
My
Life of
Song
This greeting, I confess, took me aback some what, but as I was about to begin again the presi dent informed me that there was now no need for
me
to
to proffer the request that I
had come
to
him
make.
is granted before you ask it," answered the president, his assumed sternness giv
"But why?" "Your request
ing place to a pleasant smile. "But you do not know what is my request," I protested. "It may be something which you will
not like to agree to." "Not so, Signorina Tetrazzini," he answered. "For I know both the nature of your request and
why you have come
ceeded:
to
make
it."
I rntist have looked very surprised, for he pro "Do not look so incredulous, signorina.
know
wonderful that the president should is happening in the establishments and government offices of the country of which he, at the moment, is the head. It was I who signed the warrant giving you admission to the prison, and it is not surprising that I should have been informed of the reason for your visit; and that I should have divined that after you had seen this young officer you should have determined to secure
It is not very
of what
his release.
Well, now, it will please you to know that I have done something which will be better even than immediate release for a release would still carry with it the stigma of the past years. I
have ordered a new
trial,
and I can
tell
you before
Prison and Sea Adventures
109
the trial takes place and it will take place at once what will be the result. This man will be found innocent and will be released immediately, And he has suffered a long term of though imprison ment, he will come out with his character com
pletely vindicated.'
7
Of course I was greatly elated at the outcome of this little episode, as were the naval Ms
officer,
wife and his mother. They all came to see me afterward and, speaking with great emotion, thanked me very sincerely for the interest I had shown. To me it was one of the brightest hours of all those sunny days I spent in the Argentine
Republic, After the affair was over the three, now happy in reunion, left Buenos Aires for a quiet little home in the country where, in those peaceful cir cumstances, they soon, I hope, recovered from their long and trying ordeal. I had a very pressing invitation to visit them in their rural home, but, unfortunately, the exigencies of my operatic en
gagements prevented me from accepting. I had not long been in South America before I discovered that there are many and very serious disadvantages of popularity. Often have I heard men and women, highly placed in the world, lament the trials which attend upon the famous. I have Iread amusing stories of the artifices adopted by certain eminent persons to avoid the unwelcome attentions of the crowd. I must confess that I " have always enjoyed being lionized" as much as
110
My
my
Life of
Song
"
those
who have been
the "lionizers.
I think that
adventures while escaping from unwel come attentions will compare for novelty and ex citement -with many of the stories that I have read. As* I have already said, my first engagement in South America was for one opera season only; but after the phenomenal success of the first few weeks I was re-engaged for the next year at $17,500 a month. I fully intended to return home at the end of the second year, but my impresario and all interested in the opera besought me to continue for another year, and I agreed. Again niy salary was raised, this time to $22,500 a month. At the end of the third year the request to re main for yet another season was again preferred and pressed, my impresario using all the influence and arguments he could think of to induce me to accept. I knew that my people at home were very
one of
prolonged absence, and it was only after many refusals that I finally capitulated. Again my salary was raised, this time to $27,500 a month. After a time my impresario projected a tour for
upset at
my
-
me
through Brazil and the other countries in and around the upper part of South America. I was vfery keen on this tour and readily agreed to it. I had not realized the full .extent of the impression that I must have made on the Argentine Bepublic, but I was about to do so in a way which was more
drastic thaxi pleasant.
My impresario had a big rival,
a
man
occupying
Prison and Sea Adventures
111
a high position in Buenos Aires. The rival im presario determined that I should sing for him that year in Argentina, and he made me a very tempt
ing monetary
offer.
I believe I was the
first
prima
donna
to
to reject an offer made by him, and when I did this he was very indignant It was brought
my
notice soon afterward that the rival
im
that, since I had declined his offer in favor of a tour of the neighboring repub
presario had sworn
lics,
he would prevent me from leaving Argentina. I laughed lightly when I heard of his threat, but my informant did not join me. " Why are you so grave?" I asked him. "Is Argentina so be nighted a country that it is possible for an angry impresario to prevent a popular singer, a native of another country, leaving your capital $" "It has been done before," said my own im
presario,
"and
it is
quite possible to do
it
again."
of considerable influence. He could pretend that you have promised to stay here and have you taken off the steamer and brought
"How?" "He is a man
back to the town."
could fight him in your courts, surely?" "Oh, yes; but we may lose. In any case we should ruin all our fixtures for this tour, and I should lose a little fortune through broken engage
"But we
ments."
Unfortunately for me, the president who had been so kind to me during the early days of my visit to the Argentine, had died; otherwise I should
112
My
to
Life of
Song
difficult
have gone
him with another
case requir
ing his official intervention, and one in which I had a more personal interest than the other.
Cannot I get out of the country in disguise?" I asked after pondering over the dilemma for some minutes.
"
My impresario
?
s
face lightened.
' '
Would you be
prepared "I'll do anything possible," I remember answer ing, adding, "I am always game for an adventure." We then discussed the ways and means. At last we devised a novel scheme which, though it
certainly looked feasible, promised to be very much r of an adventure and when it w as translated into
;
to do that?" he
asked eagerly.
even more exciting than we had anticipated. The scheme provided that my impresario and I should go aboard a Brazil-bound ship at anchor at Buenos Aires. Once aboard I
action,
proved
to be
was to dress in the blue sailor rig of a pilot's boy I was barely eighteen at the time and by an ar rangement was to leave the ship in the boat with the pilot. After the ship had passed beyond the
radius controlled by the Argentine Bepublic, by which time all danger of interference from officials would be over, the pilot boat would row out to
the ship, which would then stop and take me aboard It was a pretty scheme, but there were again.
several chances of its going wrong. The first part of the plan worked well.
We my
impresario and I went aboard, and I quickly donned the garb of a sailor boy; the pilot's cap
Prison and Sea Adventures
effectually hid
my long coil
of nut-brown hair.
So
good was
busy deck,
my make-up my hands in
that I strolled about the
the side-pockets of
sailor attire,
unconcernedly whistling. impresario, standing at a vantage point of the deck, smiling into his beard and looking approv ingly at me from the tail of one eye. Though I
I saw
my my
appeared
to
show
little
concern, I
must say that
the fresh sea breezes somewhat chilled me as I strutted around. Presently the time came for the
pilot to put off.
He
called sharply to "his boy,"
and I ran across the deck and down the swaying rope-ladder with an agility that afterward brought me some embarrassing congratulations.
were well away in a tiny open boat when what my impresario feared happened. Suddenly there was a little commotion ashore, some shouting
through megaphones, and then government officials to inform the captain that Signorina Tetrazzini could not be allowed to leave the coun vigilant search followed, but I was not to try. be found. The officials, satisfied that I had missed the boat, went ashore, and the ship proceeded on
We
came aboard
A
had left national bounds. Meanwhile I was feeling very unhappy. The fresh breeze which I had felt as I swaggered about the ship had increased, and the choppy sea had become almost dangerously rough for the small
its
way
until it
pilot boat in which we were then dancing on the billows. I am not a great lover of the sea even when travelling in so comfortable a liner as the
My
Life of
Song
Mauretania; and I had only consented to this ad venture because I was so eager for a tour in Brazil and because I understood that at this time of the year the sea was generally calm. To make matters
worse, the captain of the passenger ship became refractory. When he saw us tossed about on the
waves several miles from the coast he suddenly changed his mind and told my horrified impresario that it was too dangerous to risk picking up a boat in that high sea and that he should signal to us
to return to the safety of the
Argentine shore.
think, could readily grasp the film possibilities of an incident of this unusual nature so far I have not heard that the
;
The poorest imagination, I
"niovies" have been engaged to depict a scene exactly corresponding to this true incident from my early life. I often laugh to myself as I picture
that serio-comic happening. Back in Buenos Aires was the rival impresario, probably tearing his hair
because his myrmidons, engaged to prevent me at all costs from leaving Argentina, had allowed me,
in a
way then unknown to him,
illegal grasp.
state, as all
On
to slip through his the vessel, also in a frenzied
own
his
impresarios frequently are, was my impresario, cursing the fate which had upset
astute
triumph.
scheme at the moment of seeming By him was the sea-captain, imperturb
able in face of
my impresario's alternate entreaties
and threats; and I, a naturally bad sailor, garbed in an ill-fitting sailor-boy's suit, my teeth chatter-
Prison and Sea Adventures
ing with cold, and already experiencing the first unpleasant spasms of seasickness. My companion rowed his hardest, but we saw that instead of drawing nearer to the vessel a greater distance was separating us at every stroke. And the sea, far from moderating, was growing angrier than ever. At this time I felt seriously alarmed and was almost ready to give
the
word
to
put back to Buenos Aires, which was
Some of the whitecrested waves were actually breaking over the little boat when we saw at last the steamer was slowing
so anxious not to lose me.
I took an oar and gave what help I could " my adopted father," although I am afraid I was of very little assistance. I was chilled to the bone as I mounted the rope ladder to the deck, where my impresario waited, with hand out stretched to help and to welcome mle aboard. Not only my impresario, but all the rest of the pas sengers, who by this time had learned the true nature of the 'little drama which was being played, were gathered at the top of the ladder to greet me, which they did with a hearty cheer. It was not long before I had doffed my incongruous clothing
down.
to
and was
sitting in the cabin in
my ordinary travel
ling costume.
so long in stopping the I asked my impresario as we congratulated ship?" each other on our triumph. Then it was I learned that I had nearly been left behind and that it was
"But why were you
only after
my
impresario had given the captain
116
My
Life of
Song
had consented to stop The amount of the bribe was 100,000 francs, and the impresario had written a check for the full figure and handed it to the captain on the spot. He had further given the captain his under
a handsome bribe that he
the ship.
taking to accept full responsibility for any legal trouble which might follow, so that the captain " ran no danger of being carpeted " by his company for a breach of the regulations.
The cautious captain need not have been so fear ful of eventualities. There was no unfortunate
made a good voyage sequel to the incident. and I had a sensationally successful tour. When I [returned again to Buenos Aires, far from having
to face
We
any
official hostility,
I was greeted with
all
the old-time cordiality, and the succeeding Buenos Aires season was- as successful as those which had
preceded
it.
But
it
was never again necessary for
me
to escape
pilot's
from the country in the guise of a boy; if it had been I should not have
adopted this ruse.
Though some may think that my action was lack ing in the dignity which should always be main
tained by a prima donna, I do not regret the part I played, and I have always felt pleased that 'even
in those early days I was successful in doing what I have occasionally done since, in that I outwitted
an
unprincipled,
over-reaching
and
powerful
impresario.
CHAPTER VIII
A WILD LOVER AND A JEALOUS DIVA
experiences fell to my lot during subse quent tours through the South American Republics and in Mexico. I was in Rio de Janeiro at the time when one of those revolutions in which South America loves to indulge was in full blast. My first intimation of the revolution was what seemed to me to be a tremendous explosion on a battleship out in the bay it was the sudden firing of a heavy gun by the revolutionists, who had taken terrific crash over command of the warship.
;
MANY
exciting
and several
really thrilling
A
followed; then I heard the sound of falling mas onry, and one part of the hotel in which I was staying tumbled into a heap of broken bricks and splintered wood. The shell had partially wrecked the hotel. "Women screamed, men rushed excitedly
about the streets around the hotel shouting for or against the revolution, and someone in authority came to me and advised me to join the other citi zens, who were hurrying to the shelter afforded
by the high hills overlooking the bombarded city. "As we hurried along we head the guns from
the city answering the fire of the revolutionaries aboard the Brazilian warship. Though it was not so terrible an ordeal as the hapless Belgians suf117
118
My
Life of
Song
fered during the initial onslaught of the German army, while it lasted it was a most thrilling and panicky experience. I thought of that scene at
Eio de Janeiro when, during the early days of the war, news came of bombardments of Belgian, French and British towns, and my South American
experience, brief though it was, helped me to visualize something of what the European war
really meant.
The population swarmed out to the shelter of the heights, from which those of us who were not
too frightened to watch could view the big-gun duel that was proceeding below. Near by wasi
he interpreted to
standing a captain in the Government forces, and me the meaning of certain hap
penings marking the various stages of the fight,. After a time he grew very excited and declared that the city was winning. "You will be able to sing nere again publicly in a day or two," he exclaimed. But I shook my head. "I cannot sing in a city
where your own battleships fire on your own people without warning," I replied. Nor did I sing there
again that tour.
I left as speedily as possible for
Santa Teresa, where I could be out of danger of big guns and contending governnxentalists and revolutionaries. I love the Latin South Americans for their many commendable qualities, particularly
for their unrestrained passion for song, but their political upheavals are much too violent for
liking.
my
A
Wild Lover and a Jealous Diva
little
119
In Uruguay, another
Eepublic which I
visited about this time, I had an experience of a different nature. The orchestra at the opera house
of one. of the smaller towns at which I was singing heard of the large sums I was now earning with my voice, and became very envious. They held a little council of war, and then sent to me an intima tion that they would not play for me unless I gave
them from my own wages the equivalent of their own normal earnings; in other words, they pro posed to obtain doub]e pay at my expense. I had
no objection to the orchestra getting as much pay as their services could comtmand, but I strongly resented being asked to pay them a bonus for play ing in an opera in which I sang, and I told them " " this. "Very well, they retorted, we will not play
for you", Signorina Tetrazzini. shall strike." The evening came for me to make my appear ance, and the house was crowded with opera lovers
We
singing in Buenos Aires and w!ho had come to see if I were as good as report said. At the time fixed for the start I went before the curtain, addressed the house, and ex plained the situation. "I am very sorry," I con cluded, "but the opera cannot be given. You will all get your money back at the doors."
who had read about my
A murmur of annoyance ran through the packed
"Yes," I replied. "Are you willing to sing?"
and then a voice from the gallery de manded: "Are the artists here?"
theatre,
120
My
Life of
Song
6 '
Oh, yes, of course.
It is only the orchestra that
has struck."
"Well, then," said my gallery interrogator, "there are a piano, a violin. There must be some one here who can play one of those instruments and the maestro is here: let us get on with the show. Hang the orchestra!" Cheers from all parts of the house showed that) the audience were more ready to listen to a scratch
;
performance than to go away with their seat money, and so we gave the opera as best we could, with only a violin and a piano as accompaniment.
Far from the performance being unsatisfactory, we had more applause that night than later on when
the orchestra accompanied us. Immediately the opera was over, the municipal band, acting under the special orders of the governor, came to the
hotel. The stage door to play me back to of this band had arrayed themselves in the bers unifom of the Bersaglieri (one of the Italian regi
my
mem
ments) as a special compliment to me, and play ing snatches from the opera we had just given as well as Italian martial music, they escorted me through the crowded streets of the town. What
with the cheering people in the streets, the music of the bandsmen, their Italian attire, and the clanging of the church bells which had also been ordered to ring in celebration of my visit the
whole scene grew very impressive, and was made more so by the unfavorable circumstances in which the evening had opened. As Was only to be ex-
A
Wild Lover and a Jealous Diva
121
pected after such, a demonstration in the theatre and the town, the orchestra quickly changed their attitude. The next day they sent to me an apology for having tried to wrest an unfair advantage from me, and from then onward they played for me without a murmur every time I appeared. romantic incident in which I was the unfortu nate heroine occurred in a wild country region in the Argentine about this time, I had accepted an
A
invitation to spend the week-end on a large ranch a long way inland. The proprietor was a very
wealthy mian, but he, his wife and sons, though kindly people, were rough and uncultured. They were the new rich of their day. I did not realize
' '
? '
until I
met them
in their
own home how
fierce
and
invitation.
wild they were, or I should not have accepted the Their home was magnificently fur nished; viewed from the interior, it might have been the town house of a very affluent London merchant. Pile carpets, oil paintings, priceless carved furniture, modern fittings and crowds of servants made this great house in the wilds seem
delightfully incongruous.
all the guests save myself had gone or play on the lawn prior to dinner. I had to sit noticed during the afternoon that one of the sons of the house, an exceptionally fierce-looking, power fully built young giant of about twenty, was shyly
One evening
attempting to pay me attentions. When the guests went outside he saw ine go to my room and obviouslv decided that the proposal which he was
1
,
122
My
Life of
Song
at
contemplating should be
propitious time.
made
tMs seemingly
unsuspecting, came down to the I saw this strange, wild young man drawing-room, standing in a tragic pose in the centre of the room.
I,
all
When
His head was thrown back and his dark eyes were
One hand was held aloft as he were a statesman about to make a solemn though announcement, and the other hand was held behind his back. I stopped suddenly, as I entered, and
flashing peculiarly.
round the great room in the hope of finding someone else there. But we were alone. Both doors were closed, and the bell was on the
looked
all
other side of the dramatic
note
young
giant.
What
most was the mysterious little move frightened ments that were being made by the arm and hand
behind the lad's back. Ais I stood there, wondering whether to open the door and rush back to my room or to scream, the fierce youth, in a sepulchral voice, addressed me thus "Signorina Tetrazzini, I love you. Will you
:
kiss
me?"
was a
situation
which required tact. "It is very nice of you, Amato, to want to kiss me," I answered; "but I don't know you yet, and I don't
It
kiss persons I don't
know."
This answer of mine was apparently different from what he had expected. He was slow of thought, and it was several seconds before he spoke again. Then he suddenly burst forth with:
A
lie
Wild Lover and a Jealous Diva
123
"Signorina, yon must kiss me now!" With that whipped from behind Ms back the ominous something which I had felt rather than seen he had been holding there for some purpose from the time I was due to enter the splendid drawing-room. This
something was a long, vicious-looking dagger its polished blade caught and reflected the burning rays of the red evening sun now streaming through the window. To my horrified eyes it seemed that
;
the blade was dripping blood The hilt of the weapon was of silver, beautifully chased. The weapon itself is today one of my most prized souvenirs, and has a place of honor in my
!
home
Lugano. Whenever I look at it I shudder, and then smile at the tecollection of the circum stances in which it came into my possession. I see
at
again that picture of the wild-eyed youth standing in the centre of the expensively furnished drawingroom, on the ranch in the wilds of Argentina, with the blood-red rays of the sinking sun catching the
of polished blade. For fifteen years, in all parts the world, I used this same dagger when singing
" Lucia."
got there? Put that away at once!" I exclaimed, as the tragic youth produced the dagger. Instead of doing so, he turned the
"What have you
and slowly pressed it to his point toward himself heart. I thought he would stab himself before my cold and sick with horror. eyes, and I turned "Now will you kiss me, signorina? If you do
not, I will plunge this dagger through
my
heart
124
My
Life of
Song
as I stand liere before you," lie said deliberately. I thought it best to try coaxing. "But why kill
yourself, Amatol?" I asked. "I shall not be able to kiss you when you are dead. I cannot tell you
at once
a
little
whether I will kiss you or not I must have time to think it over. You see, we Italians
;
well indeed.
never kiss anyone until we know them very, very Now, suppose you give me that lovely dagger of yours as a keepsake? Then I will go out on the lawn and think over what you have said, and I will tell you presently if I like you "
enough to kiss you. As I spoke the desperate frenzy seemed to dis appear from his dark eyes. He lowered the dagger and handed it to me.
"Now
let
me
pass,
Amato, please," I said; and
he stepped
aside.
"And you will come back presently and kiss me?" he urged, as I, greatly relieved, disappeared
through the doorway, carrying the captured silverhilted dagger in my hand. Outside on the lawn I met the rancher himself, and I thought it wise, in the interests both of myself and his son, that he should know of the little drama which had just been played in his own drawing-room. Of course, I expected the father
to be very upset and apologetic at the news that one of his guests had been compelled to go through an experience of this nerve-trying nature. But I reckoned without thinking of the ranchman's social
code.
Far from being
apologetic to
me and furious
A
with
Wild Lover and a Jealous Diva
son,
125
he was greatly amused at my story. an excellent joke, he said. Then thought he casually told me that I should take no notice of his sons, because they all went slightly mad
Ms
He
it
occasionally.
"But, senor," I remonstrated, "don't you think it rather unwise to invite so many persons to your house if your sons sometimes go mad ? There may be a tragedy here some day. "Oh, don't you worry, signorina," he replied. "My sons are all right. They would not hurt a leaf. Take no notice of them."
' '
The father's careless assurance did not relieve my mind very much, and I resolved as we went in to dinner that I would take care not to be too
much alone during my brief stay in that beautiful home of wealthy wild men. It was with a mixture of
relief
and apprehension that I saw the place of
Amato vacant
My
at the dinner-table that evening. hostess casually remarked on his absence, but
my host,
all
smiling cheerfully at
me
the while, again
observed, "Don't worry about Amato. probably got one of his mad fits again.
He
has
Hell be
right in a day or two." I saw no more of Amato that evening, and at breakfast time I noticed that his place was again
empty. Despite his father's careless assurances, I had an uncomfortable feeling that the reckless young savage had committed suicide or done some I ex thing nearly as desperate. All the morning announce that his dead body pected to hear someone
126
My
Life of
Song
had been found on some part of the ranch. I was informed during the day that no one had seen Ajnato since the previous evening, and that he had not slept in the house at night, and had left no message as to where he had gone. What struck me most was that I was the only person who seemed to be interested in Amato.
often disappears in this way," said his mother, when I mentioned the matter to her. Dur ing the afternoon the mystery of his disappearance was partially cleared up. As I was walking about
the ranch I came to a huge tree which attracted my attention because of some white lettering
"He
showing that the cuts had been newly made on the bark. There, cut out in huge capitals, were the two names: "Tetrazzini and Amato." The let tering had been executed with considerable skill, and the fact that the names were in one line instead of one above the other suggested that the writer wished it to be understood that we had been de
walk side by side through life. But there was something more startling than the way our names were written, for the love-sick youth had cut around them a shape resembling a huiwan heart, and in that part which embraced the name of Amato there was thrust a knife. The workings of this poor lad's mind were plain, and I felt very sorry for him at the time. But where was Amato ? Was this his last message to me and his family, and had he really killed himself in some quiet place? During the rest of my stay
stined to
'
A
Wild Lover and a Jealous Diva
127
nothing more was heard of the youth, but when I returned to Buenos Aires I was informed through my friends of what young Amato had done after he had carved his feelings on the trunk of the tree.
He had gone out on the ranch, where there were some mustangs grazing. These mustangs, as every body knows, are beautiful and powerful creatures. They seem to be built of springs and are as fast as the wind. Like the lads in the household where I was staying, they were only half tamed, and when frightened they would gallop for hours without halting. Young Amato, it appears, went among
his father's mustangs, and, instead of selecting his own habitual mount, chased and caught a young
mustang as wild and spirited as himself. The beau tiful animal, I was told, had not been broken in, but young Amato was careless of this fact. Im mediately he had mounted, the mustang, in terror
at the sensation of
having something on his back,
dashed away across country, over hills, across brooks and on to the plains. What actually hap pened on that wild ride I do not know.. But Amato, famished through days of fasting, returned shortly after I left. He still rode the same mustang that liad carried him away; but the beautiful animal
had left had come back conquered and docile. the ranch it Whether Amato, like his steed, had been tamed during his absence, I cannot say. Perhaps he had. Since then I have had no information as to the
was not the
wild, frightened steed that
I shall doings of that remarkable family, yet
al-
My
Life of
Song
ways treasure the beautiful dagger as a memento of that rather exciting week-end in the wilds of
South America.
South America, some grave, but mostly gay, the reflection that I was not subjected to any unpleasantness through jealousies in my own profession seems to me now to be the most pleasant of them all. When I arrived in South America there were no great prime donne there whose names had been on the lips of the
all
Of
my
recollections of
multitude for
years and who could turn eyes of envy and jealousy in my direction. " You have come and conquered us all with your " There are no voice," declared the President.
many
others here on your plane." The Press and the public echoed the President's words. I was, how
ever, to
and
have many experiences of what jealousy spite will do during the next phase of my life
of song.
After spending a brief while with my relatives, now moved to Milan, I journeyed to Kussia, where I had been offered a lucrative engagement. It was here that I first sang with my good friends Caruso, the great tenor Massini (now sixty years old) and
,
Battistini, the baritone.
Of
these three
famous
singers I can only speak words of praise for their great art and of thanks for their kindness to me
during
land,
my first visit to Russia.
me
that I
Caruso, I
to
ber, told
must prepare
come
to
remem Eng
where I should soon attain
to international
fame.
A
It
Wild Lover and a Jealous Diva
129
was about this time that a then well-known soprano who was singing at Petrograd made a thrust at me which, had it succeeded, would prob ably have ruined my career as a prima donna. The opera in which we were playing was Les Hugue nots, a composition which at the time it was written was not very favorably received, but has survived to be regarded as a Meyerbeer masterpiece. The part of Valentine, the heroine, was being sung, not by me, but by the prima donna to whom I have referred, whose name I advisedly suppress. I was
engaged to sing *ojily the smaller soprano parts. The criticisms of the performance published in the Press on the day succeeding the opening were
was said of the singing of the prima donna, but much was written about my own performance. Most of the critics demand ed to hear Tetrazzini in a more important part. Well, the only other important part was that of
remarkable.
Very
little
Valentine, sung by the prima donna. As can read ily be understood, this artist did not feel veryhappy over the Press comments, and, as some other leading ladies have done in similar circum
stances, probably determined to
' '
understudy in the bud. leaving Italy to prepare for the consequences of jealous spite, as the lore of the musical profession,
as well as of every other profession, contains numerous warning instances of fading stars show
"nip the ambitious I had been warned before
ing acute hostility to new and promising lumi naries. I know also that there are many great,
130
My
Life of
Song
lovable souls in all professions, including own, instead of hampering through jealous hate who,
my
the new stars, unselfishly give them a helping hand. I shall have more to tell of some of these, such as the great Patti, in a future chapter. When I met the diva the day succeeding the opening I could tell from the glare of her eyes and her frigid, almost contemptuous, demeanor that she was mortally offended with me, though my only offence was that I sang my best. Further, I had just returned from what was a triumphant four years of starring in South America, and was prob
ably entitled to special notice from the Russian Press. But the jealous prima donna could not see
someone
she thought below her securing the praise to which she considered herself entitled. Perhaps she thought I would be asking the man
whom
agement to transpose us. Certain it is that she took a step which she must have bitterly regretted ever afterward, for it probably was the first un expected drop down the sharp descent which speedily brought her almost to poverty and want. The opera that was to have been given a few days subsequently was The Barber of Seville. As the real prima donna professed to be ailing, I was asked to practice the principal soprano part, which I did; and by the time the house was due to open
I
But at the last moment the real prima donna who was virtually the director of the house at the timefelt
ready to sustain this role with
ease.
changed her mind.
Without giving a satisfactory
A
Wild Lover and a Jealous Diva
instead of reason, she informed the company that, we were to produce giving The Barler of Seville, Eigoletto that night. This news was a bombshell to me. It was now
so long since I had sung Rigoletto that I had for There was no gotten most of this beautiful opera.
time to practice
it,
and the
real
prima donna
still
announced herself too ill to take the principal part. critics had been invited, and so The
newspaper a principal role for they were to hear me sing in which I was totally unprepared. Even when I in Borne, Her sang Isolde before my own Queen own maestro Majesty had thoughtfully sent her to coach me and had given me time to learn the it was a different task part. Here, in Petrograd,
that
explanation of this sinister situation? There could only be one solu it was a plot by the principal tion, I told myself me appear to the greatest possible soprano to make and disadvantage before the important personages the Russian capital. What the musical critics of was more reasonable than the assumption that it would be said that I was after this
was
set
me.
What was the
:
appearance
not a great prima donna, and only capable of filling I discussed lesser roles in grand opera? Briefly I told the situation with Battistini and Massini. take the part in these to I was not
them
prepared
but they both advised unexpected circumstances,
me
to
make
the effort.
will come through keep your nerve and you with honors. And we will help you," they declared.
" You
132
My
Life of
Song
have often done in circumstances in which I have felt someone has been treating me or a friend unfairly.
felt
As they spoke I
my
spirits rise, as they
will sing Rigoletto tonight, and sing it to the satisfaction of all," I said to myself, "or I will
"I
never sing again."
The curtain went up on a fashionable and crowded house. The St. Petersburg of those days was very different from the drab, shopless, suffer
ing Petrograd it now is. Jewels were flashing in the boxes and stalls. Tall, bearded "Russians, now dead or begging for charity in the streets, sat with their ladies and languidly discussed the opera, none dreaming of the terrible days of terror and hunger ahead. I often think of that imposing scene when I read of the Russia of today, and I shudder as there rushes to my mind some horrible picture of
the probable present of this applauding prince who sat there that night, or that beautiful young
princess, bright of eye, vivacious in was by his side.
manner, who
Battistini took the part of Rigoletto, the bari tone; Massini was the tenor, Duke of Mantua;
while I was the soprano heroine, Gilda, Rigoletto 's daughter. I record it with gratitude that both Massini and Battistini seemted to be as genuinely eager for my success that night as I was. " Particularly in the great soprano aria, Dearest Name," was this desire for my unqualified success shown by Massini. This aria, which I have sung
for recording and which,
by the way,
is
one of the
A
Wild Lover and a Jealous Diva
best sellers of my phonograph records, is supposed to be sung while in an ecstasy of love. In it the Duke's name is sung aloud, the singer declaring that it is forever graven on her heart. While this
being sung the Duke should not appear on So anxious for me, however, was Massini who knew that if I could produce all the notes of this great aria the success of the rest of the opera was assured that he decided not to go off the stage. Instead, he secreted himself behind a tree and, thinking to help me, whispered encour agingly as I proceeded with the song. When I realized what Massini was doing for me a wave of gratitude for the veteran tenor swept through me and probably helped me to sing better than was my custom. I have thought since that I was fortunate in singing this aria so well in those circumstances, as an incident of that kind might, on another occa sion, have distracted instead of assisted me. There was an amusing scene at the end of the
aria
is
the stage.
aria, for Massini, despite singing, for once seemed to
long years of opera have completely forgot ten that he was on the stage and not in the stalls. No sooner had I finished than he rushed out from
Ms
behind his tree-screen shouting,
Bravo, bravo, Tetrazzini!" and so led the audience in the crash of applause which followed. It was just the kind of unrehearsed action that one might have expected of the big-hearted Massini. The audience was
"
swift in recognizing the
inspired
Duke and the motive which him, and I like to think that much of the
134
My
Life of
Song
applause which followed was meant as much for the kindly Massini as for myself. As Massini and Battistini had foreshadowed, the opera went with a great swing. Each of ns forgot many of the words, but our improvisations passed
unnoticed.
The curtain finally fell between us and a house more than satisfied with our performance. As my readers will have imagined, there were two
very eager scrutinizings of the Petrograd Press the next morning: the prima donna who had decreed that we were to play Bigoletto without a rehearsal, - and myself. I was not in her presence when she read the critics' comments, but I can readily im agine what her thoughts were as she did so, for
the writers
had eulogized my performance in the same lavish language as had done the journalists of South America during the past few years, and almost to the same extent as did the English and New York writers a few years later. As for that diva, the opera house saw her no more. Without a word of Good-bye she -packed her boxes and left, giving me a field free from interference and jealousy in high places. And so the experience, which was at first unpleasant, had worked out to my complete satisfaction. The real sufferer it seemed a case of poetic justice was the jealous prima donna. So far as I remember
'
' '
she never again appeared as a great diva in of the world's capitals.
any
very bitter over her unjustifi able attitude toward me, but when I heard, as I
felt
For a time I
A
Wild Lover and a Jealous Diva
135
eventually did, that misfortune had befallen her, I felt truly sorry. It is, I suppose, only human to
feel hurt
and
to be envious of one's supplanter,
however innocent that supplanter
There is a tale in English history of a king who was greatly hurt and indignant when he saw his eldest son trying on the royal crown a story which was
may
be.
recalled to
my mind by this incident. After my experience in Petrograd and elsewhere
of the jealousies of the profession, I do not think I could ever be guilty of doing other than give a
kindly word or a little help to anyone who seems to have a fair chance of filling my place when I
retire.
I
am
glad to be able to record that I have
prima donna of whom I have been writing. I was then able to turn the other cheek, and am very pleased that I did so. I was singing in one of the world capitals I will not mention
since seen the
purpose not to disclose her identity when I heard that she was in unfavorable circumstances. I wrote to her a pleasant letter,
where, as
it
is
my
and received a very cordial
her seats for
reply.
Later on I sent
my own private box, which she ac cepted. When I was singing that evening this diva was one of the most enthusiastic of my auditors.
Before leaving she kissed her hand to
the box.
me from
CHAPTER IX
CONQUEST OF MEXICO
these travels there was ever prom inent in my mind, as in the mind of every
all
singer player, the desire to appear before large audiences in London and New York. I knew that it was only after conquering one or both of these two great cities that I could hope to attain to international fame. Yet I was doing nothing to .hasten forward the time for making my bow to
either city.
DURING or
Caruso, as I have mentioned, urged me to go from Russia straight to London, and he confidently predicted a great triumph. Other renowned artists from! time to time gave me similar advice and also expressed their confidence in the result. True, some opportunities did present themselves, but the offers were not sufficiently attractive to induce me
away from South America, Mexico, Russia, Spain, Germany or Austria, where I was singing for more than a decade before I made my first bow to
London.
When
me
five seasons,
I was singing in Mexico, where I spent some of the friends I made would ask
my experiences in London and New and when I replied that I had not sung in York,
about
136
Conquest of Mexico
either city they
137
would say: "Don't you think you are making a great mistake in coming here before you have been to London? The great Patti did not visit us until long after she had become famous
in
England and
New York."
I understood what they meant, and I knew full well the difference between an English and an American audience that while a singer coming to America with a great reputation from Britain might be assured of success, the prospects in Eng land of a singer with only a South American rep
utation were by no means so rosy. those days was reputed to be much
tical of
England in more critical
of singers than the New World, and always scep any of the many "finds" which America at one time was frequently announcing. One of the
reasons probably was what England described as "the Barnum method" of booming ihe singers "discovered" in the New "World. I remsember replying to one of my advisers that,
despite the English prejudice against American then a girl in finds, London had accepted Patti
her 'teens immediately upon her arrival from America. What Patti had done I felt, although I did not say so, might be done again. In those days I did not, of course, foresee the amazing scenes which were to follow my debut in London or their remarkable resemblance to those aroused by the first visit of the "little lady" who was soon after
ward the great Patti. As I moved about Mexico during those
five
138
My
Life of
Song
seasons I heard many echoes of Patti 's visit. It was in Mexico City that I was first told the story of how Patti came to the border of Mexico and
then turned back in fright, She was then a girl prodigy touring North America, nightly holding audiences spellbound as, standing on a table, she sang to them with a voice of rare beauty. As she was nearing Mexico she heard stories of brigands robbing concert parties, and little Patti, not yet ten years of age, resolutely declined to be taken
As I heard moving into the fearsome country. tale of the modern doings in tale after moving
this oft-troubled country, I could not help saying to the Mexican people that I endorsed the action
of
little
Patti,
and I added that
if
I had been a
little girl
singing my way through North America I should have done the same. I heard many accounts of the days when Patti then the most famous singer in the world, and deservedly so visited Mexico City. It was about the timie when I was making my sensational little debut in Florence. I heard the Mexicans talking
of the magnificence of the railway car in which Patti travelled, which bore her name in huge let
ters
on the outside and which was stared at with
wondering eyes by all the country people as the In subsequent train came through from Texas. I took a leaf from Patti's book in the mat years ter of railway travel, as I found that a sumptuous railway car on which could be cooked the meals I liked best, and on which I could sleep, rehearse
Conquest of Mexico
139
and be free from intrusion, was better far than hotel life with its occasional comforts and frequent
discomforts, disturbances and petty annoyances. When, subsequently, London suggested that in
new Patti had been found, London probably thought it was saying something new. Yet here in Mexico, several years before London
Tetrazzini a
saw me, I was being generally described as " the Florentine Nightingale" and the "new " The houses attracted Patti. Patti the
first
by
god
dess before whose shrine I worshipped were be ing compared with the houses to which I was now
singing in Mexico City. The dresses and the dia monds, the money paid for the boxes, the crowds unable to obtain admission, the number of beau
tiful
women
in the
stalls,
the tempestuous ap
plause, the wonderful gifts of flowers, and the all electrical atmosphere of the opera house
were compared with the scenes of the days of Patti. Yet though the Press and the public were lavish in their praise, though my seasons were called "The New Conquest of Mexico," I realized all the time that there was a difference between my appear ances in this country and those of Patti. I knew that, despite the pleasure I gave the Mexicans through my singing, they were susceptible as all
small countries are
nations, and
to the opinion of the great especially to the authoritative voice
of
New York
or
London; and I
felt
then that,
enjoyable though these American tours were to me, I must soon turn my face in the direction of Covent
140
My
Life of
Song
Garden, and if a suitable opportunity did not pre sent itself I must, like the Eoman of old, "find a
way
to
make
it."
Meanwhile, from season to season, Mexico was providing me with many interesting experiences as well as with large sums of money. It is not my intention in these reminiscences to devote long de scriptions to the brilliant houses that have collected
to hear the Tetrazzini voice, or to tedious accounts of the roles in which I appeared, or to relate in
chronological order
doings in the Mexican Republic. I have never kept a diary, and am un able to remember enough to set down seriatim, even
all
my
if
such would interest
my
readers,
my
experiences
in this picturesque State.
As I have suggested
welcome in Mexico was exceptional. already, It corresponded very much with the generous treat
my
ment accorded by the South American Republics.
As
was
in Argentina, so in Mexico, the President enraptured with my singing and expressed his
7
pleasure in many ways. Mexico s head was, by the way, the famous and capable despot, President Diaz,, who with his wife became very frequent visitors at the opera. The President showed me many kindnesses. Whenever I recall him there
leaps simultaneously to my mind the remembrance of a very comical figure, a little gnome-like fellow
(the President's aide-de-camp), who always fol lowed his chief wherever he went.
man was known as the " General, *' and he used to salute me in a funny little way whenThis
little
Conquest of Mexico
ever
hie
came near.
Every time I saw blm make
this salute I always felt an almost irresistible de sire to laugh. I remember on one occasion when
the President and his wife were in the presidential box, and I was on the stage singing, that my eyes
suddenly alighted on the "General." He, seeing me regarding him, must needs involuntarily bring his hand to the salute, whereat I had to pause in
my
and laugh. The audience, including the President, though they did not know the reason,
aria
joined me in this little episode. After the opera was over I spoke to the President and explained the reason, whereat he exclaimed: "Oh, it was the
6
everyone laugh. But they If anything all like him, and he is my mascot. were to happen to Trim- 1 should be daily expecting a disaster to myself." When I heard the news of the revolution and the President's flight, I recalled this conversation, and I wondered what had hap pened to the "General" after I left. But I never
General'!
He makes
heard. I noticed that the President's countenance was very dark, and his features suggested that there was Indian blood in his veins. At that time he was well advanced in years. His wife, on the other was a graceful Frenchwoman, a member of
hand, one of the most aristocratic families, and some twenty years the junior of her exalted husband. Her Christian name was Carmen. She sent me a photograph of herself, which I still have
lovely in my collection of autographed portraits of celeb-
142
My
Life of
Song
rities.
to the
Carmen Diaz used sometimes to come alone theatre when the President was very busy.
box which in Latin countries
is
On those occasions she would select the proscenium
box, a
invariably covered by a grille, so that the occupant can see without being seen. On one occasion I remember, before the curttedn rose, the Presidentess was so interested in the head-dress I was wearing she had seen me through the grille that she raised the screen and asked me to come over so that she
might inspect it more closely. Mexico City and the Mexicans charmed me. As is well known, the city is nearly eight thousand feet above sea-level, and the atmosphere is very rare and invigorating. Though cold at night, it is very warm during the day, and the sun seems to shine always. I thought the Mexicans peculiar in some ways. They seem to leave their big business to the Americans, having either no initiative or no business acumen. The women, and indeed many of the men, of the city seem to love most the occu
pation of watching the picturesque life of the streets and picturesque is the only word in which
;
to describe the
moving throng, particularly on Sun day evenings, when everyone in Mexico City seems to be parading the two principal streets of the capital, all intent on seeing and being seen in their
invariably striking costumes of divers colors. Though there is always a palpable undercurrent of deep political feeling everyone lives in expecta
tion of outbreaks of rioting or civil
war or
assassi-
Conquest of Mexico
nations
143
the Mexicans show a great zest in life, and the men particularly are very ready to go crazy over exceptional singing or playing. I no ticed that the men usually applauded anything and everything I sang; but the Mexican women, al though very enthusiastic when I met them off the
stage, like
countrywomen, do not regard it as becoming applaud in the theatre. I could tell, however, from the applause of some that they had travelled in the United States and had ac quired the custom from their Anglo-Saxon sisters. Upon leaving the theatre I found in many Mexi can towns groups of men awaiting me at the stage door. As I appeared they doffed their hats, and some of them removed their coats and, following an old Spanish custom, and one which Sir Walter
to
my own
Raleigh attempted -on a notable occasion to intro duce into England, cast them on the ground for me to walk on. As I saw this I felt suddenly trans ported back to the days of old Spain, when men vied with each other in the practices of chivalry
and knight-errantry. An incident which occurred when I was at Puebla was in strong contrast with the foregoing. The opera house I have sung in some strange edifices,
boldly arrogating to themselves the name of opera house was a sorry structure. The memory
all
of
it
haunts
me
still.
Sometimes I dream that I
singing in it, and wake up with a gasp of horror. There had been something very much the matter with the roof just before we arrived, for
am
144
My
Life of
Song
when
to our disgust,
we found which was vigorously expressed by every member of the ocmpany, that the stage was awash At first we felt like abandoning the per formance, but the manager besought us to appear. There was a full house, he argued, and he would have to hand back all the money, which, he said, was badly needed. The other members of my com pany wavered and then, they too not relishing the loss of a night's pay, took the manager's side. So I consented. The water was baled off the stage as quickly as
the time came to raise the curtain
!
dripped so badly that the boards were very wet in places when, a little later, the curtain went up. The opera was my old favorite, Lucia, and not wishing to ruin the ex pensive long-train gown which I wore in this work, I held it up as I sang, at the same time trying to find one or two dry islands in the stage sea. Per haps it would have been better to have taken the public into our confidence although, being natives, they ought to have known the state of their theatre
before
possible, but the roof still
we
started playing, for
some of the aristo
my
cratic ladies of Puebla, when they saw me holding skirt aloft, made motions which revealed how
deeply I had shocked them. One lady in particular, seated in a box slightly lower than the stage, where she was unable to ob serve the reason of my behavior, looked frightfully indignant. She frowned, and then ostentatiously turned herself away from me and faced the audi-
Conquest of Mexico
1
145
ence, saying in effect, "Just fancy prirna donna to emulate a high-kicking ballet girl!" attempting
A
That action of hers and what
it
implied was too
much
for me.
I decided to help her to clear
away
a few cobwebs. With my feet fairly soaking and the consciousness that, despite my great efforts, my dress was practically spoiled, I did not feel in the happiest mood, so when a suitable opportunity came I interpolated a few phrases of my own into the libretto of the unfortunate Lucia. Advancing gingerly, island by island, across the watery stage, I reached the nearest point to where sat the lady " with her back to me. Then I sang, Madam, you are shocked, very shocked, I know it, yes I do. But do you know, the stage is soaking wet, and our dresses all are spoiling, yet just to please you I am ready, perfectly ready^ to let my dress drag through the wet and be completely ruined if you,
dear madam, will promise to buy me a lovely new one." My little impromptu serenade did not have the happy result that should have followed. Some of those near by heard what I sang, and laughed; their laughter further offended the dignity of the great local dame in the box. She still sat with her
back to me during the rest of the act, and when that was over she gathered up her wraps and haughtily stalked out to the quiet amusement of others near by and to myself, who happened to be in a position of observation behind the curtain. On reflection I
think the action of the grande dame was indefen-
146
My
Life of
Song
pretend to be shocked at a diva who was only trying to protect a new and very beautiful dress was unquestionably an insult. But that was only one of the little discordant notes which are heard in every sphere of life, and I must admit
sible, as to
now
to
many happy
smiles
when
recalling the in
cident
and
my rather daring improvisation.
Every artist has many stories to tell of little encounters of this nature during his or her profes
sional life, and many an interesting hour have I spent in the green-room of a theatre listening to
one or other of the great singers recounting some such experience. This story I once published in an
article entitled
Conquest of Mexico/' which appeared in an American magazine. That maga zine was read in the town in which the incident occurred, and it brought me one or two very sympa thetic letters from persons who were present on the night in question, each of whom thanked me for appearing in such uninviting circumstances. But there was no letter from the lady whom I had
"My
so mortally offended.
Another unpleasant experience occurred when I was in Mexico, the land of sunshine and apparent happiness. There was introduced to me a man who recalled having met me in Buenos Aires. I had almost forgotten him, but later I recollected having met him at some Government function many years before. He was a tall, handsome, magnetic man, middle-aged, very polished, and with plenty of as surance. He said that for a time he had been the
Conquest of Mexico
Argentine consul in the town.
147
As lie happened members of my company as well as some of my friends, I saw "hi-m on a number of occasions. One day he made a proposition to me whereby I was to save money. He said that, as he was still connected with the Government, he could have my earnings transferred from Mexico
to
know
other
to Italy, or to whatever place I chose, without having to lose so much on the exchanges and the
my
postages.
I looked at
him very sharply
as he
made
this proposal to
that he
;
was trying
me, as the unpleasant thought to rob me passed through my
mind but I believed
differently immediately. His blue eyes looked so honest and innocent that I felt he must be the soul of honor. Nevertheless, I did not agree to his proposal, but told hj-m I was quite
with the way my money was handled at the present, and I saw no reason for changing. "But you can save money, and it will be safer if you do it through the Government," he urged, rather too eagerly I thought. When he saw I was determined not to entrust him with my money, he dropped the suggestion without showing any sign
satisfied
of annoyance.
Later, other
members
of
my com
pany were approached by him in the same way, and as their earnings were not comparable with mine, and they were naturally very anxious to save as much money as possible, they consented and
entrusted
him with the work
of transference.
I
heard subsequently that their monies were received safely at their destinations and that the ex-consul
148
My
Life of
Song
had actually justified Ms claim to be able to save them money. I did not suspect that this was part
of his scheme to defraud me.
Then came the time when I wished to have sent to my dressmaker in payment of bills a sum of 27,000 francs (normally $5,000-), and being very
pressed with other business at the moment, I en trusted the transference to the handsome ex-consul.
and the answer to had not arrived. I my letter to the dressmaker began to grow very nervous. I saw my Adonis" like benefactor" and asked him if there had been any hitch in the Government (office, but he blandly assured mfe that the money had gone through quite
Time passed, and the
receipt
all right,
that I should get my acknowledgment in due course, said that T was not to Worry, and that he was quite ready to oblige me in a similar way
again.
But
I wrote to
my fears were not so easily allayed. my dressmaker and asked her to reply
immediately and state whether she had received those 27,000 francs which I had sent her. As for the ex-consul, I told him that I was very agitated at not getting a response to my letter, and that I had no intention at the moment of enlisting his aid in any further financial dealings of mine. With that he left me, and I did not see him again for some time. During this period I looked eagerly in my mail for a letter from my dressmaker, but still there was no answer. Then one day I happened to be at
the consulate
when the post
arrived,
and an
official
Conquest of Mexico
handed me a letter. It was the one from my dress maker in answer to my second note. It stated that she had not received the first letter containing the 27,000 francs. This news alarmed me, and I went straight to a solicitor and told him what had happened. The police were called in, and they soon recognized in the ex-consul a man who was an asso
ciate of
inals.
a very well-known gang of expert crim
also discovered that for a time, while hoping to be entrusted with some more
They
still
he was
of
money, he had made it a daily practice to my foreign mail so as to prevent my hear from my dressmaker. The police were very ing soon on his track, and not long afterward he was arrested. They found him in a very fashionable
my
call for
restaurant entertaining a well-dressed woman in lavish fashion. They had ordered the most expen
sive viands procurable and a plentiful supply of the best champagne all at my expense! In the courts the ex-consul told an amazing tale. He overlooked the fact that he had first met me in
Buenos Aires, and solemnly announced to the court that he had found me in London, where I was then an unknown singer. Having discovered that I was a musical genius, that I had a voice which would become famous in both hemispheres, he had decided
to front.
spend all his savings in order to bring me to the I forget how much he mentioned in tMs
.
preposterous story. Anyway, it was far in excess of the sum that he had taken from me. And the reason why he had stolen this 27,000 francs, he
150
My
was that
I,
Life of
Song
now successful, had forgotten com pletely my obligations to him and was careless of the fact that it was to him alone I owed all my
said,
triumphs and material prosperity. He told the court how he had asked me to repay him only a little of the money that he had expended in raising
me
to
my
It
fused.
pedestal, but that I had haughtily re was then that the idea had entered his
mind
to recover the money by subterfuge. My astonishment at his audacious tale may be readily imagined. No credence whatever was given to his story by the judge, who sentenced him to if I remember rightly seven months' imprisonment. The 27,000 francs were not recovered for me, but I was lucky to have escaped with no heavier losses. Before that time and since attempts, mostly unsuc
cessful, to secure
some of
my
earnings were
made
by unscrupulous persons who, particularly in North and South America, have an unpleasant habit of popping up on the most unexpected occa sions. I shall have more to say in a later chapter as to my strange experiences and fortunate escapes from some of these unpleasant persons. Of those five seasons during which I was singing in Mexico, all were financially successful. To those unacquainted with the country this may not seem
surprising, but to the experienced
it is
regarded as
phenomenal.
Very few singers
finish a season in
Mexico, for several reasons. One is that the clim ate, which in Mexico City is very delightful, is by no means as propitious throughout the Republic.
Conquest of Mexico
The
altitudes range
151
from a little above sea-level" to nine thousand feet, with consequent varia nearly tions of temperature and comfort. But it is not only the climate that adversely affects the opera company. There are many other detrimental influ
poor, and high-priced sing ers seldom attract enough money to the box-office
ences.
is
The country
to
the season profitable to the manager. As I have already pointed out, the Mexicans will rave over a good singer and are never indifferent to
make
opera. Yet the expenses of a touring company are so enormous, the cost of transportation is so great,
and the
it
hotel charges are so frequently in the
opposite ratio to the
accommodation supplied that becomes almost impossible for an ordinary com
pany to pay its way. The hotel-keepers will show you a room as cheer less and uninviting as a prison cell, divided from the others by so thin a partition that you can hear every word spoken several rooms away, and will demand payment at as high rates or higher than those asked in New York or in the first-class hotels in London. At one hotel, for instance, I was charged six Mexican dollars (about three Ameri
can) for a plate of cold meat. All other charges to me were proportionate, although I knew from the other, but native, visitors that they were eating excellent table d'hote luncheons or dinners for about 85 cents a meal. I remonstrated with the hotel proprietor, who replied that the charges to
me were
the same as he
made
to all tourists;
and
152
My
Life of
Song
when I pointed out that there were others staying in the hotel who were having equal accommodation
for about one-third the charges, he advanced the rather impudent argument that as I was taking
it
from the town a lot of money in salary, for singing, was up to him to get some of it back. He further argued that, since I was doubtless ever ready to take the highest salary I could demand, I should not blame him for doing the same for his accom modation, to which I might have retorted that many people thought that my voice justified an unusual fee, but that he was providing less than
ordinary comforts for extraordinary charges.
fortunately, there
to
Un
was no rival hotel in the town which I could go, a circumstance of which my ungallant host was thoroughly cognizant when I
m,ade
is
my
protest.
list
Another drawback
the long
tesies.
Even
to profitable opera in Mexico of people who expect Press cour in the smaller towns which can barely
support one daily and one evening newspaper, I found to my amazement the names of sometimes as many as seventy journalists on the roll for free tickets. These journalists claimed to be the corre spondents of newspapers published all over the
globe,
from China to Peru, from Christiania to Queensland. To my practical mind I could see no advantage to me or to my company to fill the opera
house in this way, particularly when it mleant the exclusion of some sixty or seventy persons who were prepared to pay full prices for the stalls so
Conquest of Mexico
occupied.
It
153
was quite
clear to
me
that these
alleged journalists never corresponded with the newspapers they professed to represent, and that even if they were the recognized correspondents they were not expected to write on any subject of less general importance than the assassination of the President, the burning of the House of Parlia ment, or a revolution. What annoyed me and many others who have preceded and succeeded me in my Mexican tours
was the discovery that these pseudo- journalists ac
tually used to
held.
first act,
make money out of the privilege they For they appeared in their places during the
then would disappear and their seats be occupied by strangers who had paid their prede cessors for the privilege of using their ticket-stubs. There exists at the Eoyal Albert Hall, London, a
privilege embarrassing to artists and impresarios, whereby nearly a thousand people may be present
without payment every time the hall is open. These are not the journalists, but, so I am informed, those, or their heirs, who at the time when the hall was built Were given seats in perpetuity by con
tributing generously to the scheme. Now everyone who would sing or play to the people of London at the Eoyal Albert Hall has to give his or her serv
ices free to nearly one-tenth of the total
accom
modation.
of affairs;
that this
is
To me that seems an unfortunate state still when we take the hall, we know
one of the provisions and accept it ac But when we are in Mexico and find
cordingly.
154
My
Life of
Song
the pseudo-journalists
swarming into all the best seats, and then selling them to their friends and preventing the company from getting the return for their work to which they are entitled, artists
be excused for protesting. However, on the other hand, I have had so much kindness and assistance shown to me by genuine journalists in other countries, particularly in America and England, that I would like to say
that
may
what
is
common
in Mexico
is
certainly
un
common
elsewhere.
Probably I have met and
talked with at, least as many journalists as any other living singer, and I have nothing but kindly memories for the great majority of these hardworked members of a very noble and useful pro
fession.
CHAPTER X
A RUNAWAY IMPRESARIO
my experiencing the disagreeable sensation of being attached to an opera company left stranded by its impresario. Not that this experience is at all novel for a professional singer. In Mexico and in some of the South Amer ican States it used to be the exception for an im presario to return from a tour with his own com
without
MY
travels in
Mexico were not destined
to
end
pany. I have already written of my experience as a diva-impresario in Argentina, and told of the mis fortunes so frequently suffered by operatic artists on tour. In Mexico the impresario and his artists frequently part before a quarter of the tour is completed. Impresarios in this State are not men of much substance: a few poor houses, due, per haps, to feeble advertising or elashings with other and unexpected events of strong local interest, and the impresario finds himself on pay-day with no funds. If he is a brave man he calls his company together and explains to them the bleak situation. If the company is wise and does not show too much pr;^oitive human nature, a working arrangement
is
effected
and the company struggles
155
on.
A
few
156
My
Life of
Song
may put matters right. But if the instead of bravely facing the situation, impresario, acts the coward and disappears with what money
good houses
there
then the lot of the company is desperate. It was one of the cowardly type of impresarios
is,
who ran my company into
the Mexican wilds on one occasion. He had agreed to pay me a salary which, he said afterward, was too high to allow of the tour's being financially successful; the salaries
which he had promised to pay the other artists were also correspondingly high. As an impresario he was not a success. The towns we visited under
him did not know of our coming until we arrived. We sang on the wrong days, and it was not until we were leaving that the inhabitants were fully awakened to the fact that Tetrazzini and her com pany, who had caused such a furore in South America and in their capital, Mexico City, and who
had stirred and pleased the great dictator Diaz and his wife, were actually among them; and so the last night's takings were usually equal to those
of all the preceding performances. It was clear to me and the whole
there
of
company that was something wrong with the business side our tour. I called the impresario aside and
remonstrated with him concerning the arrange ments. He was looking very pale and worried and promised that he would wire to his advance agent to improve matters. But I was not satisfied with his reply there was a suspicious droop of the eyes which suggested to me that all was not well with
;
A
Runaway
Impresario
157
him, and that there was trouble coming for all of us. My fears were quickly realized. That night our farewell we played to a full house. During the interval we were to collect our pay. As we waited and chatted behind the scenes someone raised the query as to the whereabouts of our search was made, but he could not be principal. found. An anxious look came into every face as the minutes passed and no impresario appeared. Everyone was thinking the same thing, although so far no one had expressed his fears in words. It was a very long interval that night, and there was much noisy clamoring before the curtain rose
A
on the
last act.
But there was no impresario behind the scenes or in front of the house when that curtain ascended. He had entered the last train which left the town that night for Mexico City. With him were the
company's share of the takings of the box-office and, incidentally, the money due to us. As all artists who have had a similar experience and as
every one of my readers will thoroughly appreci ate, it was a very apprehensive and white-faced group of singers which assembled in the green
room at
the back of the stage in that out-of-the-way Mexican city at the close of the performance.
"Let's call in the police," was the advice of one, while another was for immediately breaking up the company and returning to the capital in search of the renegade employer. He accompanied the re
mark with such
vigorous threats as to the
way he
158
My
Life of
to
Song
the contralto
would handle him, as and myself shudder.
make both
During the discussion, some of the artists dis closed their financial condition, and I think it was the sorry state in which the majority were that
prompted me
to
make
my suggestion.
There were
among us several women whose total possessions did not amount to ten Mexican dollars, which, at the rate they were charging us for hotel accommo dation on that tour, would have maintained them
about twenty-four hours. While the men stormed, one or two of the younger women were
for
openly weeping. Then I made my proposal.
of
I told the company
experiences in South America as a divaimpresario, of the success which had attended
my
my
efforts,
and expressed the opinion that what I had
done in the Southern half of this great New "World I could repeat in the Northern part. I had enough money with me to pay the expenses of the company for the next week, and I told them if it were neces sary I would get some more wired to me from my own reserves in Mexico City. With this I offered to pay the whole of the expenses of the next week
all
or two of the tour, including the full salaries of the artists. Further, I proposed to take charge
of all the receipts, as well as to make myself re sponsible for meeting every legitimate charge. If at the end of the tour there were money in hand,
I was to take from that
own
salary, according to
amount of my the rate at which I was
the
sum
A
to
Runaway
Impresario
159
have been paid by our missing impresario, and then, if there were still money remaining, I sug gested that we should make an equal division among us all. As I talked and unfolded my plan, I noticed,
subconsciously, that the
women
dried their tears
and looked at me with eyes in which hope and eag erness had taken the place of disappointment and despair. The tenor and the baritone ceased to utter imprecations against the missing impresario and
eagerly offered to try it. Before the conference ended one or two women, who but half an hour before were wringing their hands, were discussing the amount that there would be left over for the
final share-out.
Hope springs eternal in the human
breast.
to
my
Anyway, the whole company readily agreed proposal and gave me full authority to act
in their name.
1 had already sufficient experience of the world know that human nature will readily enthuse at the inception of an enterprise, but is apt very soon to grow weary and lazy. So I took good care to watch over every side of the company's activities. I insisted on plenty of rehearsals, with the result that the standard of our company was higher at the end of our tour than the beginning. So that " there should be no unfortunate occurrences" in the region of our little treasury, I kept a very close
to
watch on the dollars that came in and were paid out. It was a very exacting tour for me. It meant that hours before the curtain went up I was seated in the little office watching and checking the tak-
160
My
Life of
Song
and assuring myself that my company was not being cheated. I was all the more careful as to the box-office takings because on a previous tour I was
ings
flagrantly robbed.
On one occasion when counting the house. the box-office returns were handed him, he saw
for
My "
manager on that tour had an
"
excellent eye
immediately that there was a big discrepancy be tween them and the numbers in the house. Yet
apparently everything was correct. The returns revealed that so many tickets had been sold and
the
for these handed over, that so many courtesy tickets had been issued and the bunch of unsold tickets seemed to make the figures of the
money
returns square exactly with the known seating capacity of the building. Still my manager, who knew Mexico and the Mexicans' tolerance of graft
and trickery
full well,
was
dissatisfied.
He
told
of his fears, and that he was right.
me
I, too, felt rather
than knew
decided to go thoroughly the matter, but knowing the practices of the into
country, elected to
We
work
secretly.
We
engaged
some private detectives, there was one set of tickets of which we knew nothing. Money was taken for these, but no re turns were made. They differed only slightly in appearance from the authorized tickets. Yet the doorkeeper knew them and had instructions to pass their holders through into the theatre. Thus a box reported to us to be empty was found to be filled with persons admitted on the forged tickets.
who soon
discovered that
A Runaway
When we
Impresario
161
discovered what was happening
we
acquainted the police, and three persons were ar rested on the following evening. What still amazes me is that we were able to expose the plot without the organizers' realizing what we were doing. For
my manager's duty to press the charges, it was found, to our astonishment, that the greatest offender of all was the son of the Chief of Police, with whom the business negotia tions for leasing the theatre had been concluded.
companies who had preceded us had been cheated in this way no one outside the clique knows. The practice might have been in operation for years and still be in vogue but for the sharp eyes of my manager. I must confess that I was
not surprised at the discovery, or at the fact that the son of the official who ought to have been the farthest removed from suspicion was the chief offender. For on every hand in Mexico one heard tales of graft and financial trickery in high places. Everyone had a story to tell of a Government con
bills for work done or for the amount he was to goods supplied, one receive, and one for a very much larger amount which would figure in the public records, of which
on the day when it was
How many
tractor
who submitted two
he would only receive the agreed sum, the differ ence between the two being pocketed by the Gov ernment official who handed out the contract.
It was because of this experience that I was the more careful over the box-office returns during this
tour in which I played the dual role of diva-
162
My
Life of
Song
impresario. There were no attempts to defraud us on the same scale as the one I have just nar
and our tour went swimmingly. It was not long before I found myself able to pay all expenses
rated,
out of receipts. Having passed that stage I de termined to work my hardest to make this the most successful tour, so that if ever I saw my impresario again I could tell him, besides other things, what he had lost through his cowardice. There was soon money to spare for advertising after which there was no performance at which the house was not packed. I have forgotten the exact amount
;
of the spoils of that tour which we divided when the curtain dropped for the last time, but it was
a very considerable sum, so big that every member of the company begged me, before we broke up, to take him (or her) on any subsequent tour in which I again played the dual role of prima donna
and impresario. I had one very formidable and unexpected en counter on that particular tour which I shall always remember. As those who know Mexico are
aware, at least ninety per cent of the population are .Catholics, which means that the Catholic Church,
of which I too
ence.
am a member, has an immense
influ
of Morelia is a veritable paradise blue sky, balmy, delicious climate and happy-golucky indolence. The cathedral is built on an
The town
eminence in the centre of the town. Four large electric lights on the tower of the cathedral sym-
A
Runaway Impresario
bolizing the Church lighting the world serve to illuminate the major part of the town. It was night when I arrived at the station, but
great joy the Archbishop's carriage was waiting to take me to my hotel. The carriage was a most elaborate, high-up construction, its in terior upholstered in red velvet and the outside
tastefully gilded. I was very tired, and I breathed a sigh of satisfaction as I sank onto the soft velvet
I found to
my
cushions.
Alas!
it
was not
to be all velvet
and
cushions in Morelia.
Before we arrived we had received a request for names of the operas we proposed to play during our week at Morelia, and I had replied that they would be Lucia, the opera in which I had made such great successes in South America, Dinar ah, Traviata, the opera in which I was destined to
the
make my
sensational
London
debut,
and The Bar
ber of Seville. Imagine my astonishment to be informed on my arrival that neither Traviata nor The Barber of Seville were of the type that could be performed in Morelia. London, I believe, is
considered to be more scrupulous as to its stage morals than Mexico, and yet I was to be prevented from singing in Morelia a part in which I was sub sequently to be "lionized" in London for singing
so well.
Still, I coxild appreciate the objection to the part of Violetta, in Traviata, because of the life she is made to lead in the underworld of Paris. Yet the whole company as well as myself were at a loss
to
understand
why The Barber
of Seville
was
164
My
Life of
Song
banned, and so we asked for an explanation. It was promptly forthcoming. In the opera Count Almaviva, the tenor, disguises himself as a priest in the famous lesson scene, and such a. performance could not be countenanced! I was dismayed when a chorister reported that the Sunday preceding our opening a Jesuit priest
had preached
sermon warning the public against the evils of the opera. One of his arguments was, "If you go once, you will go a second time. If a second time, then a third, and thus you will run a grave risk of forgetting God. Consequently the saw the theatre only half full. It opening night was the first sign of failure since I had taken over
a
' '
the reins dropped by our runaway impresario. Save for a few American and English women, the
audience was entirely composed of men. The Mex ican women had taken literally the warnings of The second and third performance their priest. drew a house one-quarter full. Sunday was to intervene before our next public appearance, and I decided to make the very best use of the inter vening time. Only a vigorous effort would avert disaster. I intended to make a bold bid to transfer
A
the influence of the
Church
to
my own
side.
If,
I
thought, I could get the priest to alter his attitude, we could soon change a partial failure into an un qualified success. So I wrote a very strongly word
ed letter to the priest. In it I pointed out that since he did not wish it -we would not give the two operas to which he had raised objection, although
PAofo: Terkskon
& Henry
AS "LUCIA," THE FAMOUS ROLE IN WHICH THE DIVA MADE HER SOUTH AMERICAN DEBUT
A Runaway
Impresario
165
I emphasized the fact that this was the first time in my career that I had ever heard a word raised against either of them by the Church to which I
was proud
to belong.
I pointed out further that his public remarks about opera were having a serious effect upon sev enty families represented by my company, who might be reduced to starvation. I said that opera, far from being a questionable pastime as he had suggested, was an elevating art, as our Church
had always recognized. "We had no ballet dancers,
no
our singers used no vulgar or in decorous language and the words they sang were written by the greatest composers. I concluded the letter by stating that if he persisted in his opposi
girls in tights,
tion I should be obliged to appeal directly to the representative in Mexico of His Holiness the Pope
on behalf of the seventy families in my company. I am glad to say that the priest read my letter, and when he saw our point of view wrote imme diately and apologized for his attitude. He went further. The next day he made a statement eulo gizing the grand opera which we were giving and our company as well, which was one of the best advertisements we could have had. The result was seen the next night. All the town which had been kept back through the Church influence now flocked to the theatre in such numbers that it was with difficulty that the artists were able to get
through the
human throng
The takings were
to the stage entrance. phenomenal, and so much extra
166
My
on the
first
Life of
Song
was
loss
collected for standing
room that, despite the few houses, we were able to leave
all
with a very large margin of profit after paying
the expenses. In order not to offend religious susceptibilities we took a few liberties with the operas we gave during those last few nights. The title of the well-
known opera Dinar ah.
for instance, we changed to T~he Pardon of the Virgin, and advertised it as a Biblical opera. 80 far as we knew, none present recognized that the new sacred opera was the same work that Meyerbeer wrote as far back as 1859. I have many other pleasant and unpleasant recol
lections of those days I spent touring Mexico. I still involuntarily shudder as I think of some of
the hotels with their musty, verminous beds, their broken wash-basins, their mud wells and unsanitary conditions. Yet the railways those were the days before Huerta and Carranza fought for and
smashed the trains and the bridges were commendably good, the cars roomy and comfortable. The Mexicans on the whole were quite as ready to do me honor as the more southern republics. I was frequently met at the station by the chief citi
zen of the town, attended by one or more of the
local bands,
who would
escort
me
to
my
hotel.
After a performance the bands would come and serenade me as I was taking supper or about to
retire.
Bull-fighting is a national sport, and the Mexi cans consider they can do no greater honor to a visitor than to organize one of these events in his
A
Runaway
Impresario
167
I been reluctant attend one of these bull-fights. ly compelled The organizers cannot realize it possible that there are persons living who dislike to see one of these spectacles, and so make the arrangements without consulting the wishes of the one they propose to
to
or her interest.
Many times have
distinguish.
goaded to madness and then slaughtered was always repulsive to me. I used to keep my eyes closed as long as possible. But I was "in Borne" and "Borne" expected me to obey
sight of a bull
The
her customs. On these occasions the chief toreador used to send one of his handsomest mantles to drape the front of the box set apart for me. These mantles are gorgeous creations, magnificently em broidered, and cost a little fortune. At the end of the fight the toreador would dedicate his slaugh
this
tered bull to the Signora Tetrazzini. Immediately was done there would follow a roar of ap plause, and I would then rise in my box and bow
It then
behooved me to send a token, an article of jewelry, or some other souve nir of the occasion, together with a purse of
my acknowledgments.
money, to the toreador. I remember that on one occasion in Mexico City the toreador was a very famous man who earned almost as much in his vocation as I did in mine.
The opening procession of picadors and toreadors
round the arena, with their brilliantly colored mantles thrown over their shoulders, was an im posing spectacle. Arrived at my box, the proces-
168
My
Life of
Song
sion halted, and the chief toreador gave me a sweeping bow and threw a mantle up to me, thus
placing me in a position of pre-eminence over all the assembled ladies. After what was hailed as a
very
fine
cated the bull to
and traditional kill, the toreador dedi me and awaited Ms reward. Un
fortunately for me, in niy hurry to prepare for the occasion, I had overlooked the purchase of a suitable present for the toreador. So I took from
my
it
finger a very costly diamond ring and threw down to the expectant hero. He caught it deftly
and then paraded round the arena exhibiting the It was a glorious day and the large dia prize.
mond, flashing back the sun's rays, could readily The handsome nature of the gift was the subject of much comment in the Press of Mexico City on the following day., That the dashing hero of the fight himself was pleased with the gift was shown a few days later, when there arrived at my hotel a handsome piece of silverware on which my name was inscribed, the donor, who was the tore
be seen.
ador, adding that he hoped I should keep it as a souvenir of a great day. Which I have done. Some of the opera houses and theatres in Mexico
are magnificent buildings, modern, artistic, with But there are not many of excellent acoustics.
them. Often I found myself singing in dreary, uncomfortable halls. Some of these halls had been used for all kinds of purposes. One, I remember, served as a gymnasium, and in the centre of the makeshift stage was a fixed post, part of the gym-
A
Runaway Impresario
169
nastic apparatus which caused us considerable embarrassment, as well as much unseemly amuse
ment while we were playing. That night the opera was Faust, and the lovers, try as they might to
avoid
it,
frequently found themselves separated
by
this ridiculous post.
My dressing-room, too, had made me feel very uncomfortable as I was preparing for the perform ance. The atmosphere seemed oppressive and caused me to be unusually sad. a great contrast to my normal light-hearted state when about to ap pear in public. It was very dimly lighted, but the illumination was sufficient to enable me. during the interval, to explore my mystery room. It was a great barn-like place with a high ceiling half hid den by spiders' webs. During my survey I was startled to discover penciled on the wall a number
of pathetic appeals, as, for instance, "Madonna, come to my aid " " Madonna, have mercy on me ! J " Daddy, dear, come and take me away." It was quite evident that this place was not normally a dressing-room. So I asked the purpose for which
' !
this
apartment was generally used.
it
To
my
con
sternation I learned that
wasthe
children's
prison! At Queretaro, where the Emperor Maximilian was shot, I had several strange experiences. visited the memorial chapel erected to the memory
We
of the
Emperor and two Mexican generals who
were shot at the same time. There are three tablets to their memory in this chapel, which stands on
170
My
Life of
Song
ground then owned by a wealthy American. We also saw a large museum in the town containing mementoes of the Emperor, including one ghastly relic which I shall not readily forget. It was the rough wooden box in which the body of Maximilian was placed immediately after his death, and the stains of the royal blood were still apparent. Another peculiar incident happened when I was in my hotel at one of the larger Mexican cities. My room was on the ground floor and it abutted on the garden. Early one morning my attention was attracted by a tapping on the window, the blinds of which were down. I raised them and then saw the raggedest man I have ever seen before or since. His sole clothing was a piece of shawl. If he had been seen so apparelled in England or the United States, he would have been arrested. "Charity, signora," he begged. As he was so ob charity, viously a genuine case I felt disposed to parley with him. "My good man," I said, "it seems to me that you have very great need of charity. You are probably hungry, thirsty, without money, and certainly almost without clothes. Now, which of these four would you preffep most?" He seemed uncertain how to answer this question, for he paused and tugged at his tousled hair. Then he said, "Something to wear, signora, please." That
he should ask clothes instead of money tickled me slightly, and I sent him out food and drink and a huge shawl, the kind, that the Scots call a plaid. He was very grateful, too grateful, for he started to change his clothes on the spot. After he had
A
Runaway
Impresario
171
effected the exchange he was departing, leaving the filthy rag in which he had arrived outside my window. But I called him back. "OH, no, my friend, I have no need of charity. Take both," I
said for I feared that until disinfected the old rags might be an object of some danger. With another grateful smile he did as I asked. Other experiences of a diverting character fell to my lot during those Mexican seasons, but they
too
occupy only I will mention here, and that was the occasion when I visited the celebrated Big Tree in the village of I noticed that the trunk of this giant Tule.
will take too
much
much time to write and space. One other incident
will
bore the names of many persons, and I thought that I might inscribe my own on it as well. Bor rowing a knife from my friend, I proceeded to carve in the bark in big letters the name Tetrazzini. I did not know then that this treatment of the celebrated tree was contrary to the State regula-* But I knew it very soon, for two native tions.
policemen espied me, and, hurrying up, put me under arrest. I think I was more amused than frightened, although they seriously intended to take me to the police station. However, we did not get so far as that, for the Governor, who was near by, was telephoned for by one of my party. Hurrying to the scene, he learned my identity. Immediately he heard my name he shouted to the native police
me, exclaiming that to have the name Tetrazzini inscribed by herself on their
to release
men
172
My
tree
Life of
Song
best advertisements
famous big
was one of the
that the locality could have.
With
that he ordered
captors to be taken off to spend a few hours themselves in the cells for not showing more com mon sense in the performance of their task, which punishment, I felt, was rather too hard on men
my
who were only doing
their duty.
CHAPTER XI
LONDON'S CALL
NOW
came tlie event to which I had been looking forward from the days when I was a tiny girl gladdening my mother's heart by
singing the operas while sweeping the stairs in my Florentine home. London called ! Many timtes have I been asked why I waited so long before essaying an attack on the greatest city in the world. The only answer that I conld give was that I was always too busy elsewhere and was
invariably booked up when an offer came to sing in London. Not that before 1907 I had ever re ceived an offer quite tempting enough to induce me to cancel arrangements I had aleady made.
me
English impresarios, it is true, had approached but they had nothing to offer which quite came up to my idea so far as London was concerned. As I have already mentioned I had never made it a gen eral practice to insist on appearing only in those operas which suited me irrespective of the claims I refer to of others in the ^operatic company. countries where I was already known. But London was different. Success meant so much and failure so much too in London that I felt I nmst leave nothing to chance. I had long made up my mind
?
?
173
174
My
Life of
Song
that only as a
prima donna singing in one of
my
favorite old Italian operas would I consent to ap pear in the centre of the British Empire. Further,
it
must be on the stage at Covent Garden Theatre, the famous opera house where all the great singers of the past half -century had won their biggest triumphs, and on no other that I would make my
bow to London. Some may criticize me for aiming
it
must be remembered that, though England, I had already attained to the highest pinnacle of fame as a prima donna in my own coun
try as well as in other European nations, in Mexico, and in South America. "What amazed me most on
so high, but unknown to
meeting the English people, particularly some of the well-known writers, was their ignorance of South America and their contempt for the reputa tion made by an artist in the Latin. Eepublics. And yet Latin Americans are second to none in their appreciation of music and music makers. So critical are the people of the South American Ee publics that it is more difficult for a singer to " " arrive in the Argentine or Brazil than in Lon don or New York. The wealthy South American Eepublics have frequently paid enormous sums to great singers sums higher than are paid in Eng land or the United States. The great Patti was paid more for an appearance in Buenos Aires and other South American towns than anywhere else in her world-kingdom. My own earnings in South America, as I have already stated, were enormous,
London's Call
175
and increased tremendously with every season I spent there. As these people pay the highest, they expect the best singers and musicians that the
world can produce. Yet London, I found, is not willing to accept an artist on the strength of a reputation made "in Buenos Aires. Even Mr. Higgins, the capable and courteous managing director at Covent Garden, did
not expect too much from the Tetrazzini who had caused such wild enthusiasm among the warm blooded music lovers of Buenos Aires. After my
debut, and the repetition in the English capital of some of the tumultuous scenes which had first night at Buenos Aires, the happened after
London
my
friends of Mr. Higgins so he afterward told me showered on him their congratulations for having " 7 discovered' Tetrazzini. Whereat Mr. Higgins, with his characteristic modesty, declared that the
he had made to secure London was to offer me 300 to keep away.
effort
maximum
me
for
Strange though it may seem, that is exactly what he did do. Yet his action was made in a more kindly spirit than his bluff declaration suggests, as will be seen. My call to London was mainly due to the influ ence of Signor Campanini, who was a conductor at Covent Garden for many years, and who was married to my sister Eva. Signor Campanini, of
course,
knew
of
my vocal powers,
and when oppor
tunity offered he mentioned my name to Mr. Hig gins. That was early in 1907. I was then about
176
My
Life of
Song
to return to Italy after one of my in South America and Mexico.
triumphant tours When I reached Riome I received a letter from Mr. Higgins which contained the invitation to Covent Garden. It was
the desire of
my heart fulfilled
!
For I was
to play
the principal soprano role in several operas, be ginning with Traviata, for ten performances at Covent Garden. The sum that I was offered was
120 a performance 1,200 for the brief season. So far as the salary was concerned, it was not an attractive offer. I was drawing a far bigger sum per performance in the Latin Republics of the New World. Nevertheless, I literally jumped and sang
for joy as I read the fateful invitation. London at last! Now my voice would be heard and de
scribed to the world
by some who had heard and
described and helped to make world-famous that constellation of divine songstresses of a dying age described in England as the Victorian era. I
thought of such eminent singers as Patti, Jenny Lind, Malibran, Grisi, Sontag, Tietjens, Nilsson and Lucca, all public idols in their day. Would I be able to make a hit which would entitle me to a coveted place by their side in the comparatively short scroll of musical fame? I resolved that I would get there even if to do so meant a super human effort. I immediately wrote to Mr. Hig gins and closed with his offer. There was plenty of time in which to prepare for England, but I wasted not a moment. I think I sang Traviata through that morning before I ate
London's Call
177
my breakfast.
I determined that every note, every trill, every run, every cadenza of that great compositon should be produced by my voice as near to
perfection as is humanly possible. I acted the parts as I sang them. I studied again the char acter of Violetta, the courtesan, recalling with a
smile as I did so, I remember, the attitude of the Jesuit priest at Morelia, who had banned this opera as immoral, though I had been lent the exalted
church carriage in which to drive to the opera
house.
I determined that no artifice known to a public singer which might help me to win through should
be overlooked in my preparation for London, and I felt then very much like the Americans at their
sports
thing.
that to win
and not the play was every
Don't be too -nervous or too ambitious," was the counsel that a very dear friend insisted on giv ing me at this fateful period. "I am -not nervous, but I am ambitious," I retorted on one occasion, "and I have just got to make a hit in London/'
"
My friend shook her head rather sadly.
Lon disappointed, said she. don is not Florence, it is not Borne, and it is not Buenos Aires. "We Southerners lose our heads
* *
* '
You may be so
? '
The English race Phlegm'atic, they call them selves. They never grow excited. When they are happy they never show it. They laugh when they are displeased. They forget to shake hands when
over music.
in England.
is so
Not so
cold-blooded.
178
My
Life of
Song
Dearest friends never shake hands at all. They are not a very musical race, and they produce no operas. Though they will jlisten to Italian opera, they don't like it nowadays as well as modern French and Wagnerian opera. London is a very, very difficult stage. Don't be too eager, or you may come back disappointed and very
depressed."
they meet a friend.
I listened to my friend as she croaked, and for a time I felt sad and disconsolate. "She must be right," I told myself, for I had previously heard
similar things said of London by other singers. to be cast down for long. "After " all, Buenos Aires is at least as difficult as London,
But I was not
I said to myself time and time again, and con tinued to school myself for the coming debut. Then came the bombshell The contract, prop erly signed, had reached me safely, and I had gone
!
my; way singing publicly up and down Italy and The generally preparing for my London visit. contract was not for the regular season, but for a
late
autumn season, which was to follow the return to town of the London public. I was to sing during November not an ideal month for opera in Lon
don.
"Unfortunately for Covent Garden, the early sea son of 1907 had fallen very flat, although, as I
heard subsequently, the directors had spent nearly a quarter of a million pounds to make the season a dazzling success. All opera was passing through a difficult phase in England at this time, and the
London's Call
17&
old school of Italian opera had been almost entirely shelved. These were the days of Wagner, Saint-
Saens and Gounod.
The year had opened badly.
I was shown a
translation of a description which appeared in the Westminster Gazette of the first nights ' perform
ances.
The
writer, in
common with
other
critics,
was rather caustic, but his remarks show the popu larity which the new Wagnerian school had ob
"made a quiet with a perform ance of Das Eheingold. Years ago it would have been reckoned a strange proceeding indeed to initi ate the season with a work which is played in a pitch-dark auditorium in one long act of two hours and a half, and affords thereby the minimum for social display; but nowadays it is taken as quite a matter of course. Of late years, indeed, the sea son at Covent Garden has tended more and more to resolve itself into two distinct .parts, which might be defined respectively as the grave and gay, with Wagnerian opera predominating in the for mer, and works of a higher type in the latter. And the arrangement is not without its advantages from various points of view. But it does not give the season a brilliant send-off from the social chronicler's point of view. We must wait till
start at
tained in England. "The opera season," he wrote,
Covent Garden
last night
a
Caruso comes to see the duchesses and the diamonds in all their glory, and in the meantime must console
180
My
offers."
Life of
Song
consolation as
ourselves as best
we may with such
Wagner
Die Walkure followed Das Bheingold, and the Ring were next given. Then came La Boheme, and the reappearance of Caruso in the part of Eudolfo. Despite Caruso and Melba and the frequent presence of the King and Queen, the season was not so successful as was expected, and it was not surprising that toward its end I received a communication from Mr. Biggins
other two operas in the
telling me that the prospects for the autumn season were so unpromising that he would like me to post
pone my London visit until the opening of the early
season in 1908. At that time I did not know London or Mr. Higgins so well as I do now. All I could see was
that the preparations I had been making and my aspirations were all in vain if I agreed to the prop
is
Even in grand opera a bird in the hand worth two in the bush. Above all, I was keenly desirous of going to London, and down in my heart
osition.
felt that, instead of
being injured by appearing in an unsuccessful season, I might conceivably be able to turn failure into success, as I had done in the
New World on more than
that I could not see
one occasion.
I wrote to Mr. Higgins and told him this, adding
agree to a cancella tion of the contract for 1907 even if the offer he made for 1908 were a more attractive one. But Mr. Higgins was not taking my first "No" as final.
my way to
He wrote me
another letter in which he reiterated
London's Call
181
the arguments he had at first advanced, and then said that as a further inducement to me to break my contract the directors were ready to make me a grant of 300. Mr. Higgins probably thought
that this monetary offer would have the desired effect. The effect on me was the opposite of what was expected. It showed me most clearly the very limited knowledge of my voice which was then held in the great metropolis. As Covent Garden
seemed
sate
to think that a paltry
me
for
my
300 would compen non-appearance in London, it was
it
of my earnings in I replied to the effect that opera up in the first place I had not been attracted to Covent Garden by the salary that was offered, and hinted that I should want twice as much if I were to ap pear in an English town of less importance. I think I made it plain that my object in accepting was to let the musical critics of the London Press,
to that date.
plain to
me
that
had no idea
and Londoners generally, know what they had not seemed to realize until then that the incomparable old school of Italian opera was not dead, and that
Italy could
difficult
produce a soprano able to fill the roles created by the great composers of the
still
past century. I told Covent Garden very plainly that no in ducement, financial or otherwise, that they could
would lead me to break my contract. I went even farther and stated that if they did not keep to the letter and the spirit of the contract, I would still come to England, but instead of singing near
offer
182
My
Life of
Song
their fruit
and vegetable market, I would proceed against them in the English law courts. At the time I was warned that I was behaving somewhat
"If you threaten your employer when you have him at a disadvantage, he may retaliate on you when the tables are turned," said my friend, add
ing that
if
tactlessly.
my success
were anything short of sen
sational I need not expect any further engagements at Covent Q-arden. Knowing human nature as I
.
and particularly the ways of operatic man agers, I felt that my friend was right in her warn Since then I have met Mr. Higgins, and ing. found that, like most Englishmen, he has a great admiration for anyone, especially a woman, who
do,
discloses a fighting spirit.
Anyway, the Covent Garden directorate received my ultimatum and decided not to oppose me fur
1
ther.
Nevertheless, this unfortunate break in the
preliminaries of my debut in London considerably modified my enthusiasm. It seemed like an omen
of ill-fortune.
reason why
stated.
I thought it possible that the real Covent G-arden wished me to stay away
different
was something
in
Possibly
one
from that which was whom I had offended
1
some way was doing his or her best to retaliate on me in London. And so when, according to mjy contract, I arrived in the metropolis a week before the date I was to appear, it was with very mixed feelings. I felt sure that at the last moment some
London's Call
further attempt would be
desire of
183
made
to balk
me
in the
my
heart.
was my arrival in London from had been accustomed for many years past! In the capitals and most of the other towns of the Latin Republics the governors and mayors and the town bands were at the station to accord me a ceremonial welcome, as though I were
different
How
that to which I
a queen or a foreign representative of high rank.
But
chilly
London
!
After a trying journey I arrived at Charing Cross. Signor Campanini, as my brother-in-law, knew of my coming, and was the only person await ing me at the station. We took a cab a horse cab, for the taxis were recent introductions and were not plentiful in those days to the Hotel Cecil. I remember gazing out on London for the first time on that cheerless day in the late autumn
of 1907, and shivering. It was cold and foggy. The Thames, of which I had so often heard, I was now told flowed past the hotel. I looked down to the Embankment, but I could see no river, although
its
marge was only a hundred yards away. All I could see were a few tiny points of light, which
to penetrate
with the greatest difficulty the dense, dirty, yellow fog which enveloped the city. Was this fog yet another omen of ill?
seemed
into the public rooms of the own private hotel; it entered the corridors and Before I had been in London twentyapartments.
The fog percolated
my
four hours I had swallowed more fog than during
184
My
Life of
Song
the rest of my life. The first day of my visit I could honestly say, "I don't like London." I re member asking a visitor if the London fogs lasted
all
the winter; at which he laughed. Then he assured me that the fog that I then saw was not a typical London fog. It was just a moderate haze.
all
I must wait, he said, until I saw the real thing a genuine London pea-souper, which would be at least three times as dense as that which then en
shrouded London. I went to the piano and tried
that the fog
throat.
my voice.
I found
had already
slightly
affected
my
super-sensitive ear it seemed as though the notes were slightly clouded in conse " Do you seriously quence. I turned to my visitor say that the fogs are often worse than this horrible yellow stuff that now fills the air? If so, it may be wiser for me to return to Italy at once. I shall
:
To my
never be able to sing in such an atmosphere." "Do not do anything so desperate, signora," he " Rather let us pray, or sing, or whistle, replied. as the sailors do, for a breeze which will drive it
away."
Though I sang a good deal, the only effect that it seems to have had was to intensify the fog which overhung London at the time of my debut. As it turned out, it was probably for the better that this was so, as I shall explain later. Meanwhile I had to make a call at Covent G-arden to attend a rehearsal of Traviata. The rehearsal morning arrived, and I drove to the theatre. Be-
London's Call
fore coming to London I had heard that the of English operatic art stood on one side of
185
home
Eng
land's principal fruit, flower and vegetable market. Yet it was with some amazement that I saw the
in the neighborhood of the house all being utilized for market produce. opera I contrasted the surroundings of England's princi pal hall of song with those of the imposing squares and open spaces or broad thoroughfares adjacent to other opera houses where I had sung, and I found myself wondering if a people who would allow their chief opera house to be planted on the edge of a vegetable market could be really musical. I recalled the story that I had once heard of a German prima donna 's sudden flight from Covent Garden, of the caustic language in which she had described the atmosphere through which one ap
wagons and the shops
the
proached the principal British opera house, and amusement which had been caused in Germany by her published remarks.
Despite the unpleasant first impressions of the exterior, I was soon to become deeply attached to a building which is certainly one of the finest audi toriums in which I have sung. My voice carries across it with ease, its roomy stage is ideal for the presentation of grand opera, and the dresses and
jewelry and social display are incomparably bril liant. Covent Garden on a gala night is a glorious and unforgettable sight. All of the great opera
houses, of course, present a pleasing and impres sive appearance on great nights, yet there is some-
186
My
Life of
Song
thing distinctive about Covent Garden wMch makes it unlike any other opera house in which I have
sung. The difference is too subtle, I am afraid, for me adequately to define, yet I sense it every time I sing there. And it is because of that pleas ant sensation that I prefer Covent Garden, even
with
environment of fruits and vegetables, to almlost any other opera house in the world. But my thoughts were not confined to the house or its surroundings as I arrived at the theatre that morning. Other thoughts were occupying my mind, thoughts of the attempt that the manage
its
.
contract. In conver sation afterward, Mr. Higgins laughingly con fessed to me that to the report which was brought to him on my arrival was added the ominous phrase, "Tetrazzini looks very determined and ready to do battle with the whole of the direc
ment had made
to cancel
my
torate."
I sincerely hope I did not look quite so stern as that report suggested, although I do not deny that I was quite prepared for any change of front that
might be made by the authorities. Fortunately there was no occasion for me to do battle. The management, as always, were keeping rigidly to
the terms of their contract.
When
I arrived the
company was assembled for the rehearsal and all was ready for me to join them. I was shown into a very pleasing dressing-room, and then the other members of the company were introduced to me. I could tell from their greeting that the name of
London's Call
187
Tetrazzini was not very well known to them. How ever, tlie rehearsal began, and I soon realized that
I was surrounded by a very fine company. As we sang I noticed the entrance of a very tall gentle man, who seemed at first to be taking very little
interest in the proceedings.
When my
arias
came
along, however, I noticed that he gave a quick movement of his head. It may have been surprise, or appreciation, or both. During the interval he
hurried to
my side. He was Mr-
Higgins, the busi
ness manager, who had first engaged me and then offered me 300 to stay away. From the moment I spoke to him my fears of further difficulties with the management vanished. Englishmen do not develop such enthusiasm as the
Italians or the French, as I well knew.
But I
could see that the director was literally enraptured with my effort; he shook my hand and congratu lated me wholeheartedly. "Your singing is nothing short of marvellous, Signora Tetrazzini !" he exclaimed. The others in
the chief roles were similarly enthusiastic, and I would like to put on record how much I appreci
ated the disinterested approbation and encourage ment of all my colleagues at a time which was the most critical of my life of song. As for the orchestra, every member seemted to have lost his head. Prime donne are not usually heroines to their own instrumentalists, yet the Covent Garden orchestra made a heroine of me
during that
first rehearsal.
How
shall
I describe
IBS
My
At
Life of
Song
first
the scene ?
the conclusion of the
act they
and clapped and cheered dropped me for several minutes. I had a fleeting suspicion that prior to my arrival Signer Campanini had
their instruments
organized this outburst to hearten me for the com ing debut, but that was soon dissipated by the hearty nature of the applause and the obvious de And so it came about light of every musician. that my first response to a Covent Garden ovation was when I bowed my acknowledgments to those
good-natured instrumentalists. Here surely was a splendid portent to counteract those ill omens previously observed. I went back to my hotel in a happy mood. " You
have astonished the manager, the other singers and
the orchestra," I told myself. astonish the London public/'
"Now you must
One
of
my friends called my attention to the fact
that the journalists of
London had not so far dis covered my existence. My naxnje figured in the advertisements of the opening performance, but the
news columns
newspapers had no mention of Tetrazzini. How different it was to What I had been accustomed in the New World, where hardly an hour of any day was allowed to pass without
of the
the advent of a newspaper representative who wished to print my views on some matter which, he assured me, was of great public moment. The fashion was first set, I believe, by Adelina
Patti who when in her 'teens was interviewed by a London journalist. Since then business manag-
London's Call
ers
189
have insisted that their prime donne should talk whenever possible to newspaper representa
tives, so that
may
the publicity given to the interviews react favorably upon the box-office receipts.
this practice is
more common than was there that the Press agent first anywhere. made his appearance. His task is to supply the newspapers with information concerning the artist. If the Press agent were given a free hand, he would make his artist do sensational things every day so as to secure more publicity. On the whole,
It
In America
Press agents are more essential to those artists who have not made a great reputation. Instead of having to employ a Press agent to interest the newspapers in me, I was often forced to employ
someone to protect me from too much attention from the newspapers, although, as I have already stated, I have always tried to help them whenever
reasonably possible. Somjetimes I have had to resort to artifice to escape publicity, as, for instance, when I made my last visit to London in 1920. Not so during those
few days prior to my London debut. There were few or no callers and certainly no journalists.
When
Patti
made her debut
at Covent G-arden,
Mr. Gye, the manager, called together some of his friends among the musical critics and told them to
prepare for a gem of the
water. Paragraphs had been made crept hinting that a great discovery into the newspapers, and there was an air of gen
first
eral expectancy in the audience on the occasion of
190
My
Life of
Song
Patti's debut.
Whether
anything to Ms he thought of Tetrazzini, I do not know. This I know, however, that the London Press were dumb until I had sung. I was once asked how I managed to secure such
a favorable Press
or no Mr. Higgins said friends on the Press as to what
Press boom, indeed! The American impresarios would have gone demfented if the preliminary Press announce ments of any of their stars were on the level with those made concerning me when I came to London. So far as I know, one paragraph, and one only, was published in the London Press. I have kept this notice as an interesting curio. It is very short only six lines four of which referred to me.
boom
in London.
Here
"
it is
:
Madame Luisa
Tetrazzini,
who has been
sing
ing in
Buenos Aires, and who has just returned to Europe, will make her first appearance at Covent Garden on Saturday next in Traviata. The list of
tenors has been further strengthened by the en gagement of Slgnor G-iraud, who will make his
first
appearance here as
Don
Jose in Carmen."
Oct. 29, 1907.
-Daily Graphic,
These four lines, appearing at the foot of a column in one London daily newspaper, were not likely to cause an immediate rush to hear me sing.
Nor did
they, as the next chapter will show.
CHAPTER XII
MY BOW
TO LONDON
the hour fixed for my London debut drew near, I sat alone in my hotel apartments musing over the wonderful things that had happened to me in the past through my gift of song, and building little castles in the air for my future. I was feeling more nervous than I had ever felt, and I fervently wished that the nervetrying ordeal were over. Despite my state of nervous tension, however, I had supreme faith in my vocal and histrionic powers. It will be remembered that on the occa sion of my debut at sixteen, in my native Florence, I was not deterred by nervous apprehension or by stage fright. It was only at a later period, when I had registered several important successes, that I awoke to the stern realities of the profession I
AS
had adopted and began to feel really frightened. After Madrid and Buenos Aires that feeling vanished, I thought never to return. But it came
me with all its old-time force as I sat in hotel that Saturday afternoon. It remained my with me in the evening, and it was not until the end of the first act that I was again the normal,
back to
light-hearted,
happy
TetrazzinJ
191
192
My
Life of
Song
As we
all
sat at tea that afternoon, one of our party,
seeking to encourage me, declared that
tomorrow
1
London would be talking of me. Perhaps," I replied; "but what will they be saying? Will
"
they accept me, or will they say that the old Italian school and its modern coloratura interpreter is not
wanted here?" nora," was the
"Oh, don't be
"
reply.
pessimistic, sig-
Remember
the words of
the Seeress of Milan."
The Seeress
traordinary
of Milan,
if
brought into the conversation,
whose name was thus was certainly an ex
woman
only a tenth of the stories
told of her predictions were true. Palmists are in great favor in many enlightened countries. In England, where the practice of their arts is con
trary to the law of the country, they are, neverthe Some Eng less, consulted by all grades of society.
lish
practice of visiting a palmist, a crystal-gazer, or a woman of this type, at least once a month. That these
women
of
my
acquaintance
make a
women find it profitable to dispense flattery is well known it is said that those who paint the rosiest
;
futures have the largest clientele. I have only once consulted one of these vision
and am unable to say whether her statements to me were similar to those she had made to any other person. But I do know that they were dif ferent from what she told friends of mine when they consulted her. It was not long before my London debut that I saw this remarkable person in her ""witch's den" in Milan* No one knew of
aries,
My Bow
to
London
193
my projected visit, and I took every precaution to disguise my identity. From the wardrobe of one of my domestics I borrowed some clothing which
gave
me
the appearance of a very poor
woman
of the lower classes.
I put a tattered shawl over my hair, and I wore a pair of blue, cracked spectacles to help to hide my features. Before leaving my home I walked
into
the
my garden to see the effect of my make-up on gardener. He demanded to know what I was
doing there, informed me in no uncertain language that I was trespassing on private ground, and ordered me off my own premises. Obeying his orders, I walked out of my garden gate and made my way in the direction of the den of the Milan Seeress, feeling well assured that if my own gar dener did not recognize me there was little danger
my identity being discovered whom I was about to call.
of
by the woman on
in which the prophetess resided was in a low quarter of the town. From the exterior
The house
looked dark and weird and forbidding; when inside I found myself comparing it with the as sassin's den in Bigoletto. It seemed to me then that it was a good thing for my personal safety
it
that I
had not come
At
first
my
to this quarter well-dressed. hostess, a feeble old woman with white
hair and a voice which suggested the croak of a I was a jackdaw, was inclined to the view that She could tell by my business woman disguised.
white hands that I was not used to long hours of
My
Life of
Song
rough manual work, although I do a good deal of my own housework. She produced a well-worn pack of greasy cards, made various mysterious
signs over them, commanded me to shuffle and cut a number of times, and then disclosed future. From beginning to end she spoke of me and
my
my
doings in the superlative. If, she said, I were a business woman, I should be the most successful
business
I were a poetess, I should become the most famous writer of poems of my time if a writer, the leading writer if an actress or a singer, the principal actress or singer in the
;
woman living
if
;
;
world.
Her
insistence in speaking of
me
in the
superlative amused me, and I laughed incredulous ly as she spoke. But the Seeress insisted that she
spoke only truth, as time, she said, would show. Then she foreshadowed some long journeys for me across the Atlantic. I was to go to New York, where I should create a great sensation, and should
go from there all over the American continent, and continue to be acclaimed by all who heard me. But before then I was to receive an offer to visit London. When that offer came, said she, I must
accept it irrespective of my first impressions and the attractiveness of the proposal. When I had accepted it, she said, I should have another offer,
in England's capital.
which I must refuse, for great things awaited me My name would be on every "But lip, crowds would throng to where I was. what shall I be?" I broke in. "If, as you say, I am a business woman, why should crowds come
My Bow
to see
to
1
London
195
a business
woman ?" "You have very good
business ability," was the ready answer, "but you are not a business woman. You are in a profession, and I believe you are a singer. If so, you must continue to sing, for you are destined to be one of
the great singers of the century." Then she took an egg and broke it. The yolk she took for herself; the white she put into a In the albumen she professed to discover
glass.
declared myself and my rivals and, pointing to me, "You will triumph over them all. Enemies you have had, and you will have more; but no one will be able to hurt you." I did not tell the Seeress who I was, but when I left I presented her with fifty francs. As she took the money her face lighted up and she exclaimed: "I was right. I knew you were not a poor woman,
:
although you come to
me
in poor raiment.
tell
Will
you please write to me and forecasted for you triumphs when what I have
all
me
about your
conies true, as it will?"
the whole the experience was both interest I did not attach much ing and amusing, although I only mention it here be importance to it. And cause the forecast of this woman was, in a measure,
On
correct.
1907, came, Saturday evening, November 2, nervous excitement, arrived at I, still in a state of the theatre to make my bow to London.
and
"It
full.
house should be Saturday night. The Is it?" I inquired of one of the company.
is
196
My
Life of
Song
are turning laughed, and Ms in the company. I
"Oh,
yes, signora," said
lie.
"They
people away." As lie spoke laugh, was echoed by others
lie
went to the curtain and, drawing
it
slightly aside,
surveyed the great, gloomy-looking auditorium. It " Where are the people?" I asked, seemed empty. this time speaking to one of the directors who stood " Don't be by. agitated, signora," he answered. "The house is full. You cannot see the people
because of the fog."
quite true that London was again in the cab had to crawl through grip of the fog-field. the swirling yellow stuff as we travelled to the
It
was
My
and some of the fog had flowed into the auditorium from the street, rendering it difficult to see across the great building. Nevertheless I knew that the authorities were only attempting to minimize the disappointment which I should feel when I realized that I was singing to a poor house. The theatre was not full. Far from it. Although
theatre,
best day of the week for theatres, there were only a few people in the stalls,
it
was Saturday, the
about two boxes were occupied, the pit and gallery were each about half full. And this was the best audience that all London could produce to hear a new singer. I heard subsequently that the takings were not sufficient to pay my salary for the night 120. Evidently London did not like old Italian opera, particularly Verdi's Traviata. Fog and a
poor house on the best night of the week grand opera was in a bad way in London.
!
Truly,
My Bow
We
and
started.
to
London
Signer Panizza was the conductor,
colleagues in the principal roles were the great Sammarco as the leading baritone, and Signor Carpi as the tenor. Hesitant and nervous though I was at the start, I sang and acted to the
my
maximum
of
my powers. Even in
this
handful of
people I thought there must be some who could appreciate my efforts. All the skill, all the arts I possessed, I brought into full play. Soon that handful of people began to respond. As I felt
them stirring I found my task easier; my voice seemed to get the notes with less effort. I was acting with greater freedom and more naturally. In fact, I was losing that foolish supersensitiveness and was conscious only of the part When, as I knew by experience, I could feel thus, I knew that And so it was. At the end o the ail was well. first act I knew that I had conquered London.
During the
first
interval
many
of the people be
hind the scenes, including Sammarco, congratu lated me profusely. In the front of the house, I heard later, there was unusual excitement. All
were enthusiastic, and some, who had only come to pass away a dull evening, were so enraptured
that they slipped out to the telephone to tell their friends that a wonderful singer had descended Covent Garden. Some of these friends an
upon
and so there were a few more boxes and stalls during the last two persons in the acts. Down in the foyer the musical critics were
swered the
call,
excitedly discussing the
newcomer and comparing
198
My
Life of
Song
me
with other prime donne of the past halfcentury. In all parts of the house there was intense excitement during the second and third acts. It grew until the performance ended with a tornado of applause so loud and sustained that it might have been produced by a crowded house on a gala More congratulations from everyone be night. hind the scenes followed, and then I was in my cab crawling back through the fog to my hotel. " You will sing to a larger audience next week," Mr. Higgins prophesied before my departure from the theatre. "These few people will go back to the
West End
business
houses, to the
London
clubs, to their
offices,
and
tell
come after they have heard the description of your singing that these I felt very happy and tranquil people will give. as I retired that night, having previously arranged that the Sunday newspapers should be brought up to me early and that someone who could translate
' '
night's performance. applaud you the public will
a marvellous story of to Even if the Press do not
into Italian, French, or Spanish should attend me. On Sunday morning the newspapers and the
translator arrived,
and
I,
made ready
Street.
to hear
my
with throbbing heart, fate as decreed by Fleet
these critics say? Would they echo the applause of the audience or elect to write me down as second rate ? As the interpreter turned the pages of one of the newspapers he made
What would
an exclamation of
joy.
you the new Patti!"
"Listen, signora, they call In his excitement he held
My Bow
up the paper for me
to
London
name
of Patti
199
to see the
ap
pearing beside that of Tetrazzini. I still have at my house at Lugano the clippings of the newspapers of those days following debut. In most of them I am described as the new
Patti.
my
was nearly fifty years before that date that Patti had made her bow to Covent Garden and caused a public fever similar to that aroused by her illustrious predecessor, Jenny Lind. In those days not all the critics were unanimous in
It
their recognition of the genius of the little lady. At least one of them made an attack upon her
voice.
Of
course he
was wrong,
as time
and public
opinion demonstrated so incontestably. From the press cuttings that I received it would seem that I was luckier than Patti, inasmuch as I escaped any direct attack. One or two newspapers devoted
only a short appreciative notice to my debut, but their contemporaries appeared with column eulogies of my gifts, they became more interested, and when I again appeared on Covent Garden stage they gave as much of their space to my work as the
when
others were doing. So far these reminiscences have proceeded with out giving a description of my voice. It was de
scribed so often and in such varied language in the London Press at the time that perhaps I may
be pardoned for quoting extracts which serve both
it to the reader and to indicate the that it made upon the musical critics impression of London. One of the most remarkable descrip-
to describe
200
My
Life of
Song
tions that appeared
was published in the Daily
"
News under
less
the heading: Voice of a Century. of Madame Tetrazzini. Peer Dazzling Success
A
Soprano."
had heard something of Mme. Tetrazzini be " fore Saturday night, (said the writer) "bat nothing that prepared us for such a sensational debut The new soprano, who has had the most brilliant successes in South America, where they pay fabulous sums to operatic artists, should prove the greatest attraction Covent Garden has ever had. The voice reminds one now of Melba's and now of Patti's. It is not a big
"We
modern dramatic sopranos are accounted, would not be suitable, I suppose, to modern dram and atic music or to grand opera of the type of Aida." (Here my critic went slightly astray, as one of the operas in which I was invariably successful was Aida. I have appeared in this famous work many hundreds
voice as
of times.)
is
"But to describe the voice as a light soprano It may be light in volume and in quite wrong. character, as the voice of Patti was, and of Melba is,
it is
but
capable of more color than the voice of either
of these great singers. "The quality of tone produced by Tetrazzini ravishes the senses. It is soft and golden, and yet has none of the impersonal and chilling perfection of the ordinary light soprano. The most difficult tech nical problems are executed with the ease which marks a virtuoso's playing of a cadenza in a concerto. Every note is perfect and the singer's command of her re sources so complete that there is no sense of a diffi culty being overcome. The voice has dramatic edge, too, when required, and it was noticeable that Mme. Tetrazzini dominated the noisy finales of Verdi's
Traviata.
My Bow
" Above
all,
to
London
201
main impression of lier 'Violetta' I have never seen the pathos of Verdi >s heroine realized with such grip and sin cerity. In the big scene with 'Giorgio Germont,' most sopranos who can sing Ah! fors' e lui with dazzling
the
was not musical
alone.
effect ignominiously fail, because here real acting is
and singers of the type of Melba and Patti are not great actresses. Mme. Tetrazzini, who to be sure had the advantage of playing with Signor Sammarco, gave the scene a new life. Both by use of her voice and by facial expression, she vividly conveyed the reality of Violetta's sacrifice, and many of us were impressed for the first time by the fact that Verdi had written dramatic music after all. "In the last act this great artist did not have re course to the physical gasping by which the majority of sopranos express the agony of the dying woman, but held the audience spellbound by the simple pathos of her singing and by the subtle expressiveness of her acting. In physique she is scarcely more fitted to the part of 'Violetta' than is Mme. Melba. "I do not think I am exaggerating when I say that Mme. Tetrazzini has the voice of a century and stands out from even the great Italian singers we know in respect of powers of acting with her voice. When we read the accounts of the celebrated singers of the * * coloratura school, we wondered how they made such deep impressions on their audiences, and we are forced to the conclusion that singing was judged much as we judge the violin playing of a Kubelik. "Mme. Tetrazzini explained the mystery. Every bar of the music was sung with feeling, expression and dramatic appropriateness. She phrased accord ing to the meaning of the words, and not merely from the point of view of absolute musical display. run, as she executes it, becomes expressive; a high note
required,
A
202
My
Life of
Song
seems a natural dramatic climax. Indeed, she even gave an example of this on her own account. At the end of Ah! fors' e lui she introduced a little upward trill which wonderfully expressed the hysterical feel ing of 'Violetta,' Such singing gives one a new idea of the capability of the human voice and makes one
reconsider
of writing for it. "The audience, always quick to recognize great talent, accepted Mme. Tetrazzini with the utmost en thusiasm. Her debut will make the autumn season of
modern ideas
opera memorable in musical history.
E. A. B. JJ
Such
greatest
ed,
flattering criticism
from one of England's daily newspapers was more than I expect
even in the most fantastic of my girlish dreams. But this was only one of many similar articles, all of which were glowingly appreciative. Another, wMcli I feel I must quote for the sake of an ad equate record of this, my sensational London debut,
appeared in tlie Daily Mail. The great newspaper adopted tlie conventional title of "New Patti," beneath which, were other headlines proclaiming my "Triumph at Covent Garden," and that I had
"
Twenty Recalls."
" It is a curious
trait of
(said the Daily Mail) "that they will never believe in the great ness of an artist until they have heard for themselves. Mme. Tetrazzini, who on Saturday night made one of
London audiences
' '
those rare sensations which herald the appearance of a new diva, has already achieved something like fame in South America and on the Continent. But she came to us with no flourish of trumpets, a singer to all in
tents
and purposes unknown.
My Bow
"
to
London
203
Today all London will be hailing the advent of a new operatic star one of those commanding figures
which sweep across the musical horizon once, perhaps, in a generation. For Mme. Tetrazzini's impersona tion of 'Violetta' in La Traviata shows her the equal of a Patti or a Melba and such a scene of popular enthusiasm as occurred on Saturday at Covent Gar den will not lightly be forgotten. This is no exag "
gerated praise.
After this vigorous opening the
to talk of
critic
proceeds
my magic
gift of tears
!
"So many operatic sopranos" (he says) "regard 7 the part of 'Violetta merely as a background for the display of vocal pyrotechnics. To use a vulgarism of the stage, they 'walk through it/ Not so Tetrazzini we may drop the 'Mme.' now, just as we do in the case of Patti, Nordica and Melba* She brings to the old Verdi opera a human tenderness and pathos which few of us realized that it possessed. She has the * magic gift of tears in the voice,' and is withal a consummate actress."
Describing the effect of
my
singing on the
meagre audience,
lie
says:
rendering of the familiar Ah! fors* e lui and the wonderful ease and nonchalance with which she trills upon E in alt completely astonished the audience. For a while the house was silent and spellbound, then
the storm burst. Probably since Patti first sang in the part there has not been so great an ovation. Again and again the new singer was recalled and it appeared as though the curtain would go on being raised and
"Her
204
My
Life of
Song
lowered, and Tetrazzini would go on coming forward and bowing, indefinitely. In the foyer between the acts the one topic of conversation was the new Patti."
Mr. Higgins had already told me what the Press men were saying concerning myself and Patti dur
ing those intervals, and so I was not surprised when the writer stated that
:
"Critics of hoary experience compared her to the diva in her best days, and wrapped themselves in a maze of reminiscences. It was a triumph, immediate, During the evening the new Violetta must complete have had more than twenty recalls. As already said, she has the gift of tears in the voice.' There were
I
i
actual tears among the audience, too, on Saturday night when she sang Ditt alia Giorgio, lifted out of its customary vocal display into a song of renunciation, heart-rending in its emotional intensity. Never in late years have we seen La Traviata acted as Tetra-zzini
played it on Saturday night; rarely, if ever, have we heard Verdi's music so exquisitely sung. Let us hope that this great artist will be heard in many other roles here, for her repertoire is an extensive one. "To a representative of the Daily Mail Mme. Tet razzini professed herself delighted with her reception. 'It is far, far more than I had hoped for,' she said. 'In America and on the Continent, people had always told me that your London audiences are so cold, so I was not a little nervous when the curtain rose last night. But as soon as I saw the ladies applauding I
felt
to
myself at once. That is the most astonishing thing about your audiences the ladies applaud too. It is what one never sees in Italy and Spain, and very rarely elsewhere on the Continent.'
me
My Bow
to
London
205
"Tetrazzini's vocal range is an extraordinarily large one, extending from the B below the stave (an excep tional one for a soprano) to E in alt."
Though the writer was not aware of it, I can the easily touch higher than E altissimo. Some of
newpapers in those days published music charts to show to their readers the compass of my voice. My readers, from this and the foregoing, will gather something of what the Press of London were writing concerning me in those memorable days of that foggy November in 1907. Now I must tell of my own sensations.
CHAPTER XIII
FIRST FRUITS OF
WOEID FAME
!
OH,
When
the excitement of those next few days I alighted from the continental train a week before none called and few thought
it worth while to book seats to hear me sing. Now what a change! I was no longer a stranger in a strange and chilly land. My quarters at the hotel were no longer oppressively, almost ominously, dull and silent. Indeed, I found that I had been trans
ferred to the other extreme. Persons of whom I had never heard, represent ing concerns of which I knew little or nothing, crowded in on me at all times of the day and night.
The newspapers sent their representatives, who came along to my hotel in dozens. Until that week I did not know and should never have believed
journals published in one city. The daily Press began to arrive before I had finished my breakfast on Sunday morning. Jour nalists, like doctors, have no time or liking for formalities. They do not trouble to send up their names, but usually penetrate without assistance to my suite, knock at the door, and then walk in. By lunch time I thought that I had assuredly seen
that there were so
many
all
who would want
so.
to
know about me but
;
it
was
not
Before I had finished talking to one,
206
First Fruits of
World Fame
207
another had arrived, and it was only by going out for a drive in a cab in the afternoon that I was able to obtain a little respite for that day. One of the journalists was very anxious for me to describe how it felt to become famous in a night. I showed him a photograph of myself at a great
bull-fight in
Mexico City receiving from the tor eador the honors of the kill I also showed him a picture of some of the frenzied crowds who had acclaimed my voice in South America, and some
;
Press cuttings describing
Italian
my
debut before the
Royal Family at
Rome
many years ago.
!
is so long since I was made famous in a that I almost forget what it feels like," I night said to him. But he was not to be put off in that
"It
way.
"Ah, signora, you do not quite understand/ he persisted. "Newspapers have to give the public what they want to read, otherwise they won't read
them.
the British public love to read about somebody who was a nobody suddenly becoming a great personage. If you can give me something
7
Now
which will contrast your past life of obscurity with your present popularity, it will make very inter esting reading. For. instance, cannot you tell me a story of how you once tried to obtain a post in the chorus of Covent Garden, and how the author ities there would not offer you a position, with the result that you went away sick at heart, to return later a great prima donna with all London at your
feet?"
208
My
Life of
Song
"I am very sorry that I cannot oblige you," I replied; "but I was never in a chorus. You see, I began to sing as a prima donna." But the jour
nalist
would have none of
is
my successes.
your failures that I want to hear about, signora, not your successes. I want to write some thing which will be the opposite of your great suc cess of last night. I want a kind of a Cinderella story about you one night a beggar maid, and the
"It
:
next night the belle of the
ball,
betrothed to the
prince." "Unfortunately, I have had no failures," I answered, speaking somewhat sorrowfully, for by now I was so amused at his quaint request that I
felt
no resentment
at his desire to liken
me
to a
beggar girl
I searched
my memory
to see if
I
could find some unfortunate circumstance in my life which would help him. "You see," I went on
"I did not happen to be born in a family which was starving. I have never yet been
apologetically,
forced to go hungry. I have "Have you never been what we call broke'?" he interpolated. "Have you never had to sing in the streets?" "Yes, I have done that."
'
not"
At this my inquisitor's eyes lighted up. "That I knew is what I have been wanting to find out. you would be able to tell me a good story if I
questioned you sufficiently." With that he hastily took out his notebook and prepared to write all that I had to say about my
First Fruits of
"
World Fame
209
Where did it happen? singing in the street. How old were you? Did yon take up your own collection?" were some of the questions that this young enthusiast fired at me. "It happened in a number of places/ 7 I an
"Once in San Francisco. That was last year. The townsf oik took up the collection for a local charity. We had nearly a quarter of a mil lion persons present, and a very large sum of money was collected many thousands of pounds
swered.
_ and
had stopped writing. "No, he protested. "Not that. Not a no, signora," great concert at which thousands were present, but an ordinary street entertainment one which you
the journalist
But
had
to give to get a
few
shillings to
pay for your
night's lodging. As you sang, someone who heard your voice came up to you and said that one day
you would become a great singer and gave you twopence. Now the day has arrived. Something
in that vein!" I shall never forget the doleful expression on the face of that young journalist as he went out without the story for which he came. He said that
his editor
had told him before he came that he was
!
to get that particular kind of interview with me and no other I sent out the next day for a copy
of the journal for which he wrote, being curious to know what he would tell his readers about me, I will not mention the name of that newspaperbut I must state that in it has a large circulation
210
My
Life of
Song
opinion the writer of the article concerning myself displayed a much too vivid imagination. The journalist was obviously more alarmed at the possible wrath of his editor than at the prospect of hurting my feelings, for he pictured me, prior to my arrival in London, as almost one of the submerged tenth, a singer who would count her self fortunate to pick up a few guineas as a memr
my
ber of a pierrot troupe. He described my long struggle against misfortune, which, he said, was at last ended through the kindly intervention of a
brother-in-law in an influential position at Covent Garden. But for him, said the writer, I might
still
be an unknown vocalist earning a haphazard
living
by singing at third-rate concerts. Though this writer excelled as an imaginative artist, I have met since in America many jour nalists who could give him a long start and then win. In America, if I were too busy to see a news paper representative at the moment he called, I might read in his journal on the following day a
provocative article describing Tetrazzini as being ? " in the tantrums/ too angry with the world to talk to anyone, or I might read that I was too in
censed at some words of praise which had been written in his journal about other artists in the company in which I was singing. Not a pleasant way to treat a lady who might have been out or
On resting when the unexpected visitor called. one occasion an American journalist declared that I left one of the great towns in a huff because the
First Fruits of
Press did not give
World Fame
much
211
me
so
tomary for
course,
me
to receive elsewhere,
praise as was cus which, of
was absolutely preposterous.
On the next day more journalists came, and they continued to visit me all the time I remained in
Sometimes they wanted to know if I thought the English people were good judges of music; sometimes they wanted an appreciation or a criticism of another great singer, of Caruso, of Patti, of Titta Buffo, of Samarco, of Clara Butt, of Melha sometimes they wanted me to say some
London.
;
very foolish things that all opera ought to be sung in English, that the Premier ought to go to the opera more often, that England could produce as great composers as Italy; sometimes I was asked to edit the musical column of a journal for one week an invitation I did not accept; some times I would be requested to write the story of my life for publication in serial form, or to nar rate some of the most extraordinary incidents of my life so that a Tetrazzini film might be prepared. These and many other varied and ofttimes amus ing requests were being constantly made to me. I
think every photographer in the West End of London wrote or sent a representative to me with the object of taking my photograph. Most of them were ready to do this without charge. "Why do you want to photograph me without my paying for itl" I asked one of these representatives; and "he explained that photographers make it a prac tice to get as many notables as possible on their
212
My
Life of
Song
shelves, as pictures of celebrities are frequently
required for publication in magazines and picturepapers, which pay very well indeed for them. But my visitors were not only Pressmen and photographers. Every business in London which was closely or remotely connected with music and the stage attempted to communicate with me either by letter or through a personal representative. If the firm sold music, why then I must surely want
some of the music they published, and I could have as many copies as I liked of any work or works that I chose to select from their list. "But I don't want any new music, " I protested to one caller who was begging me to accept a copy " There is more in the old of some new score. operas than I shall ever be able to sing."
to sing
"Perhaps so," he answered, "but all great singers sing some of the new English ballads. You
cannot please the English people for long unless you sing them something in their own language." "It is very good of you to take all this trouble to come here to bring me music for nothing. Why do you do this?" I asked him. "Oh, partly for your benefit, signora," he re plied, very naively, it seemed, "and partly for the sake of my firm. Of course, if you sing this new song, all the people will talk about it, and then
they will want to sing it too. That will make our song sell by hundreds of thousands, which will be very good business!" I thanked him, and dozens more who came on
First Fruits of
World Fame
213
similar errands, but I did not sing Ms song. If I had accepted only a few of those that were
proffered me, and spent my time practising them, I should have had no time left to do anything else. Some of the music publishers made me monetary
on my singing some of the new but I did not close with any of compositions, them. On the occasion of my last visit to London in October, 1920 there was thrust into my hand as I was entering the stage door at the Eoyal Albert Hall a sheaf of new songs published by a certain note attached expressed the hope that I house. might, if not on that occasion, then on some future date, sing one or more of these in public. If and when I did so, the business house would be pre pared to pay me a certain sum of money. At the bottom of the letter there was a footnote suggesting that I might like to sing one of the new songs by way of an encore that afternoon which did not give me much time by way of preparation. Though I could not help respecting the business enterprise of the music publishers, I must say that none of this music gave me a thrill at all comparable with that which I felt when I hurried away to the conservatoire with the stolen copy of
offers conditional
A
opera, Otello. there were the firms that sold voice pas tilles, cures for colds, creams to preserve and beau tify the complexion, and dozens of other things
Verdi's
new
Then
essential
to
modern
life.
My
morning post
214
My
me
Life of
Song
brought
samples innumerable of an infinite variety of preparations, all of which. I was assured might be used by me in any quantity without cost to myself. Did I smoke? which I do not then I could have as many of a certain variety of cigar
They would be sent to my address in any part of the world. The firm would, in return, be grateful for a line from me stating my opinion of their goods. If I had ac cepted the same and sent the required testimonial,
ettes as I chose to order.
there would soon have appeared blatant advertise ments announcing to the world that Tetrazzini's
favorite
smoke was So-and-so's hand-cut Virginia. said, I do not smoke, and have always advised anyone who would retain a good voice to
As I have
avoid the habit. AJS with the tobacco firm, so with the other busi ness houses. The voice pastilles that were sent me I did not use, nor did I accept the cures for the
and imaginary, which found a way into my room. I verily believe that if I had agreed to the propositions that were made to me by business houses at that time my name and photograph would have figured in most of the ad vertisements of that day. A journalist who was in my room at the time when one of these samples
various
ills,
real
arrived uged
tion,
me
to fall in
it
with the firm's sugges
to
and argued that
would be very helpful
me
ment which
as a public singer to obtain the free advertise this firm was proposing to give me.
First Fruits of
World Fame
215
To Mm,
same
apparently, a prima donna was on
tlie
level as a
mannequin.
Among
the others
who
called on
me
at all
hours
of the day and night during that memorable first week after my London dbut were, of course, the inevitable dressmakers. If I were to appear at
any private or public concert and I appeared at many the dressmakers would be only too happy,
they said, to supply
the occasion.
me
with a dress suitable to
And
so the days passed.
From
morning peace. All day my head was in a whirl through the attentions of persons I' had not asked to call. On most nights I went to bed with a headache only to awaken
to be greeted with a further flood of correspond ence and to receive, or with difficulty avoid, a succession of callers.
to night I
was given no
The most interesting of my visitors on the Mon day morning which followed my first appearance
at Covent G-arden were the representatives of the numerous talking machine companies which have their offices and works in and around the British capital. Until this time my voice had not been re corded for the talking machine. On more than one occasion I had been approached by one or another of the talking machine firms with a view to hav ing my voice recorded, but I had hitherto declined, for two reasons one, that the talking machine was
:
at first so imperfect a musical instrument there was too much of the tin can and ragtime about its
reproduction; and, two, that the remuneration
216
My
me was
Life of
Song
worth,
so low that I did not consider it while to give the necessary time to it. my Let me say here how astonished I have been by the great improvements made in the talking
offered
machine, which
unquestionably capable of exquisitely reproducing high-grade music. I have one in each of my homes in Italy, and I find it a delightful entertainer as well as a very service able instructor. I have records, by all the wellknown artists, of every one of the operas and bal lads which I sing. I constantly try these records over and listen intently for the faults of the artists, and try to profit by their mistakes. I also try over
is
now
my own
me
records and find that this practice helps considerably in the task of keeping my voice
in perfect condition.
In a few days I came to a decision as to which was the best company to record my voice and signed a contract with the Victor Talking Machine Company, for whom I have recorded exclusively
ever since.
first
time that I entered into my contract with the famous impresario, Oscar Hammerstein. His New York venture was then doing very badly owing to the opposition of the Metropolitan Opera House, which had secured the great Caruso as its foremost star. The news of
It
this
was about
was cabled to New York, and Mr. Hammerstein came hurrying over to secure
my London
for his
date.
success
me
own opera house
That he was coming
at the earliest possible he made known to me
First Fruits of
World Fame
all
217
by
cable,
and I held over
other offers from
transatlantic impresarios until lie arrived. English impresarios also called on me at this
time to urge me to undertake tours of the British provinces and of the British Empire. But I did not sign any contracts other than that with the Victor Talking Machine Company and another with Co vent Garden, as I had been advised to be cautious and to wait until the biggest offers came along. Mr. Higgins was at this time as I heard him say afterward in a difficult position. He
had brought me to London, against his own wish, a singer who had made an almost unprecedented And he had al stir, even for Covent Garden.
arouse the British public without pre viously securing a hold on my services for a term of years. But Mr. Higgins, who is a very keen business man as well as* a good judge of a singer and a production, took veiy speedy steps to put himself in a better position. It was not long after my debut that he was trying to negotiate a fur ther agreement with me. I signed a contract for a further three seasons at Covent Garden. But the salary I agreed to accept was considerably higher than that I was then receiving. I was to get 160 a performance the first year and 180 a per formance during the next two years.
lowed
me to
I received many invitations at this time to be a guest or to sing at West End parties, some of which I accepted, and soon I began to know the
West End
of
London and many
of
its titled
and
218
My
Life of
Song
I remember one after distinguished residents. noon being driven past Covent G-arden when I saw a long line of people waiting in a queue. Some were seated on folding chairs which they had brought with them from their homes.
"Look, signora! All these people are waiting Some people have been to hear you sing tonight
!
here since
It was my dawn this morning. who spoke. The sight astonished me, for
7 '
friend
it
was
then no later than two-thirty. I felt very sorry for the poor people who had to wait all that time to hear me sing. But I also felt very happy that I had been able to arouse such enthusiasm in
phlegmatic London. "This is what used to happen in the days of Jenny Lind and when Patti first began to sing at Covent Garden," my companion, a veteran operagoer, explained.
"It makes me feel so happy," I replied, "that I think I should like to sing to this queue from the cab windows." With that I made, a motion to pull down the
window and stop the cab. straining hand on my arm.
My
friend laid a re
"Sorely, Tetrazzini, you know better than that!" she exclaimed. "If you were to do that here in the London streets you would be mobbed. Eemember what happened to you in Rio de Janiero and Buenos Aires. These people would enjoy one
song, but they
would surround the cab and want
souvenirs and
demand
to shake hands.
By
the
First Fruits of
World Fame
219
time 7011 could free yourself yor- would feel unfit for singing again tonight. You jnust also remem ber that you have only appeared once; it would never do for you to make a bad impression inside the house on the second night of your appear ance." u But these are English people they don't dem onstrate in the streets, I am told/' was my reply. Then my friend told me the story of how on one occasion Patti had been mobbed Py her admirers in the streets of London and had *o seek refuge in
The shock of t^e incident had several days. prevented her from singing for Though I would have enjoyed gml^ an impromptu concert in the open aij^^ friend's advice and held myself in reserve evening's performance. There was another ol jection to singing to the queue which I had over looked at the time the effect on the Covent Gar
a strange house.
den management. According to my contract I was prevented from singing anywhere else in England without permission of the Covent Garden
Syndicate, during the period covered by the ten performances for which I had been engaged. On my return to my hotel I learned that all the
second performance, Had been on the previous Monday morning, sold out early and that wealthy people were offering fancy prices to the fortunate ticket-holders to part with their
seats for this,
my
enterprising concert agency had attempted to purchase outright from Covent Garseats.
One
220
M,y Life of Song
all
den
the seating accommodation for
to
my remain
ing eight performances.
The evening newspaper
which was brought up
me
at tea-time contained
a long description of the scenes at the opera house. Such things, they said, had not been witnessed at any ordinary performance at Covent G-arden for a generation. Though I had achieved success on
what was hap slightly un nerved me for my second appearance. But some thing was to hajbpen at Covent Garden that night which, had I reiad of it beforehand, would have excited me still more and probably have preme from appearing at all.
the
first night,
this description of
pening in
and abound the opera house
CHAPTER XIV
PATTI S SMILE
of the myriads of newspaper readers who saw me described as "the new Patti" was the great Patti herself. News of my
?
ONE
among
success quickly penetrated to her castle of Craigy-nos, a beautiful but lonely dwelling hidden away
Welsh mountains. I have met some prime donne and have heard of others who have become so convinced of their own pre-eminence that they will neither discuss nor go to hear a new singer, however great the reputation achieved by the newcomer. It was not so with Patti. It is not so with any truly great artist. Greatness has no place and no time for envy and jealousy. Why should a glorious singer, a
the
master sculptor, a great painter, feel piqued to learn that another luminary has entered and is brightly shining in his cobalt sky? When our astronomers discover a new star in the heavens, no one says that the star is not wanted. The heavens are vast, and a few million more stars would make but little apparent difference. There Nor is there any is no danger of overcrowding. of divine songsters and reason to fear a surplus it. songstresses on our globe. Far from
221
222
My
demand
to
Life of
Song
voices to
There
public
are, alas! too
few great
meet the
better
hear them.
More and
needs.
music and more and better music-makers are at the top of the list of Mother Earth's most pressing
Is there any other art which exercises such a
on mankind? This world of harsh noises and harsher experiences would soon become unendurable but for the soothing influ ences of music in its various forms, especially the unrivalled music of the human voice. How many millions, I wonder, have been encouraged to carry on in the most trying circumstances through the uplifting and stimulating influence of song? If I
beneficial influence
were ever to feel envious of another diva, the feel ing would soon be dissipated by a brief reflection
upon the majestic nature of our calling. are the music-makers, the media through whom our fellow-creatures touch the celestial plane while yet on earth. They ascend with our voices to the lofty regions above the tree-tops, to the pure and rare fied atmosphere of the mountain-peaks, to magical of which we only have the key. Millions spheres
want
to
We
are few,
to enter those ethereal regions, but the gates are small, the total is insufficient many
all
admit
comers to those realms of earthly
of the
bliss.
Then why should we who hold the keys
main
entrance feel resentment at hearing that a new and broad gateway has been unlocked to the clam orous public? should be joyful, and not en vious. Patti regarded her gifts as the keys where-
We
Patti's Smile
223
with to admit
sound.
tlie
world to the garden of beautiful
Patti was too great to harbor any petty jealousy when she read at her breakfast table in the Welsh mountains the glowing descriptions of
my London
She immediately decided to hasten to London to hear for herself if what the critics said were true. Of course, I had no knowl
debut.
edge that she intended to be present at Covent
Garden on Thursday, November 7, 1907. It was not until a few minutes before the curtain rose that someone hurried to my dressing-room ex claiming, "Signora, Patti's here." In my excite ment I sprang to my feet, with the result that my hair, which my maid was in the habit of adjust ing, was badly disarranged. "Are you sure?" .1 said incredulously.
"Yes, signora, quite sure. We all know Patti at Covent Garden. She is in the second row of
the stalls." out the exact position, so that I should have no difficulty in discovering Patti as I went on. To describe my feelings at
My informant pointed
that
moment is almost impossible. My heart sank. For the moment I seemed to lose control of my
"Oh, I cannot sing to Patti," I exclaimed. "It would be too presumptuous." My sensations on entering that night were such as I do not ever wish to repeat. It was difficult on the previous Saturday, when I made my first bow to London in a hall a quarter full. It was far worse on this, the second night. "Everybody has
body.
224
My
me
the
Life of
Song
new Patti, and half London has tried to gain admission tonight to see and hear for themselves. Added to that, Patti herself in the
called
stalls.
that
And I have to prove to London and to Patti what has been said of me is true. I cannot
doit!"
Such were my thoughts and utterances as I was about to enter. The next day the newspapers stated that I seemed to be over-nervous during the first few minutes. Can it be doubted? Does any one express surprise that it was so? Who would not have felt nervous and abashed in those jumpy circumstances ? The house was crowded in every part extra stalls had been introduced in the front of the house and at the back of the amphitheatre and of all the other sections was a dense crowd of persons who seemed content to stand throughout the whole performance. What a change from the frigid scene which had met my eyes when I first " walked on" only a few nights before! Society was there in force; diamonds sparkled in boxes and stalls. Dukes, marquesses, viscounts, barons and their ladies were pointed out to me by the management, who were at the pinnacle of delight over the size and personnel of the house. I was pleased to observe so many^ persons repre sentative of rank, fashion and wealth, but there was one person who to me was of more interest She who had than .all the English nobility. thrilled two generations from the boards of Covent Garden was present to hear me sing. During that
;
;
Patti's Smile
225
storm of applause which greeted
had eyes only for
my
she
appearance I
her.
Would
bow
to
encouragement, I won dered? I saw her immediately I entered. No one who had seen a photograph of Patti could mistake
that slight, charming figure attired in evening dress which became her
eyes, dark, beautiful
Would
me?
she give
me any
an exquisite
and
kindly,
admirably. Her met mine. I
bowed, and she replied with a pretty little bow and the sweetest smile that I have even seen on
the face of a professional singer. It was a smile of welcome, of encouragement. I read in that smile a message which said: "Don't be afraid. I
am
here "to .give you
my my
benediction, not to criti
Triumph again, and I shall rejoice with in your triumph." I could have taken that you sweet "little lady" to arms and her to
hugged
cize you.
my
moment.
heart for her encouragement at that supreme
Supported by the smile of Patti, I repeated the part of Violetta in Traviata amid scenes of the wildest enthusiasm. There were very few bou tendered me on the previous Saturday; the quets audience had not come in the expectation of find ing a prima donna whom they would wish to
this way. True, many were sent to me at my hotel on the following Monday. But this
honor in
second night!
flowers.
Everyone seemed
to
have brought
They descended on
me
in showers.
Soon
one side of the stage was banked with blooms, and still they came. It was a wonderful experience.
226
My
Life of
Song
there in the stalls was the great Patti heartily joining in the torrential applause. The next day the Press were more enthusiastic than
And down
they had been on the previous Sunday and Mon day, as will be seen from the following, selected at random from a bunch of newspaper cuttings dated November 8, 1907. It is an extract from the Standard:
Emphatic and instantaneous as was the success of Tetrazzini on Saturday evening, " said the writer, "her wonderful triumph was not made fully manifest until last night, when, on her second appear ance as Violetta in Verdi's familiar La Traviata, an audience of almost unprecedented size and enthusiasm was drawn to Covent Garden. "
"
Mme.
The writer made reference to a little confusion which had taken place outside the opera house
early in the afternoon.
to assemble for the evening per he wrote, "at the same time as those who formance, were seeking admission to the usual matinee, and it
?)
"Crowds began
took a great deal of management to separate the people into two sections. The same difficulty occurred at the close of the performance of Carmen, when a division had to be made to allow the afternoon's audience to pass out of the door. "Before the curtain rose, a quarter of an hour earlier than is usual with this particular opera, the house presented a wonderful appearance. The usual society supporters were in full force in the boxes, and only the royal box was without an occupant. Many of
Patti's
SmUe
227
the regular habitues found themselves forestalled by the general public, who had quickly taken up the stalls and the other reserved seats. In spite of extra rows of stalls which had hastily been brought out from their
summer recess, a large content to stand."
number of people were gladly
my nervousness at the opening of the performance, but lie was not aware that the chief cause was the presence there
of Patti.
The writer then described
"At first/' said the writer, "Mme. Tetrazzini, the heroine of the evening that will long be remembered, seemed a little overcome at the ordeal she had to face. But she is no novice although the importance of her success naturally affected so sensitive an artist and after the first few notes her magnificent voice, so birdlike in its absolute purity, rang out with even more marked a fullness and greater richness of tone. Once again she electrified the audience with the dramatic significance she infused into the famous air Ah! fors' e lui. There is, as is well known, a dramatic pause in the two sections of this number and this was seized upon by the audience for a spontaneous outburst of applause. Mme. Tetrazzini gathered strength, as it were, by this slight interruption and finished the air with exceptional grace and abandon. Once again were the dramatic touches, the nervous, almost hysterical, restlessness by which she indicates so subtly her grow ing love for Alfredo, added with a sure skill and lack of exaggeration. Once again did she end the song with a top E flat of surpassing purity, and with the greatest ease, making her exit in a most natural way. Little wonder was it that she was called and recalled
228
My
Life of
Song
came on at last alone to receive the wannest admiration that has been meted out to a newcomer at least within the memory of the preseat generation."
until she
reception was the warmest given in London to any new prima donna for a generation was the burden of many other newspaper com ments of that morning. The Standard critic
That
my
pro
ceeded
:
excitement of the house Mme. Tetrazzini held her audience spellbound the tenderness by with which she played the moving and pathetic scene with her lover's father. There were tears in her voice when she decides to give Alfredo up, so that he may marry as his parents desire; and there were many ladies in the audience who were obviously moved by
settled
"Through, the next
act, the
down
into a quiet appreciation.
the real pathos of this incomparable artist's acting.
Continuing with unabated freshness and vitality, Mme. Tetrazzini thrilled her hearers in the wonderfully effective ballroom scene, where she receives the insults heaped upon her by the lover whom she has so gen
With all this succession of moments of dramatic intensity, in which the strength of her acting was allied to the utmost human charm of voice, it remained to Mme. Tetrazzini to achieve her great est climax by the infinite pathos of her death scene. Here was the broken-down woman of the world, the
erously released.
discarded mistress, the real woman, whose sweet nature seemed to be unspoiled by all that she had gone through, revealed with consummate art. The artifi ciality of the scene faded into the background, and, as was pointed out when dealing with her interpretation on the occasion of her debut, the full strength of
*
Patti's Smile
229
Verdi's musical setting of La Dame aux Camelias was brought out in a way that can only be described as a
revelation.
'<
Nothing remains
to be said of the
triumph of
this
artist save that her
performance
literally carried the
audience away. It was not only by the purity of her singing, but by the real strength of her operatic con ception, at once individual and legitimately
artistic,
that success was gained. One has often heard of her^ the glorious voices of opera singers of the old days. It is delightful to know that a star of great magnitude has arrived who will not merely shed her radiance upon the remainder of the present season, but who will charm us in the future."
This
remarkable article
concluded with the
following:
Tetrazzini will sing Violetta again on Tues day next, and already seats for that night are at a premium. Owing to arrangements made some time ago, she will only be able to appear in one other role, that of Lucia, but it is good to know that there yet remain eight more opportunities for the music lovers of London to hear during the present season a singer of the rarest gifts, one who combines a voice of the
"Mme.
mark her as
greatest natural beauty with dramatic abilities that a prima donna of quite exceptional merit"
Other newspapers gave other points which I
may be
"
excused for quoting to
make
this narrative
more complete.
Nothing succeeds like success," said the Daily Telegraph, which then gave this picturesque
descrip-
230
My
Life of
Song
tion
of the scene outside Covent Garden. "The Tetrazzini "boom has eclipsed even the excitement attendant on Tlie Christian, which is saying a good deal. On the day the new prima donna was announced to appear at Covent Garden for the second time, the public, which could not afford to hook seats and would have discovered no seats to book if they could have, commenced to form up on the stairs of the unreserved parts of the theatre before noon, armed with a mixed collection of refreshments combining the necessary in gredients of lunch, tea and dinner. As the afternoon wore on, the concourse swelled to enormous propor tions and the folk arriving about four o'clock plum ing themselves on their early-bird instincts were amazed to find that their chances of obtaining admis sion were hopeless. Tetrazzini has lent distinction to
a season conducted with great pluck and enterprise. "
The Daily
Mail,
still
adhering to the headline
"T!he IsTew Patti," announced that:
the early hour of two o'clock yesterday after little coterie of some thirty people equipped with camp stools was in waiting outside the gallery and amphitheatre doors at Covent Garden to hear the
"At
noon a
great Tetrazzini in La Traviata. They had six hours to wait, and the afternoon was chill and dismal; but this seemed to trouble them little. Their reward was great, for 'La Tetrazzini,' although nervous at the outset, surpassed herself, and sang the music of 'Violetta' with all the brilliance and pathos for which she has already made herself famous. The house, as was only to be expected, was literally packed to overflowing, but many late comers interfered materially with the enjoyment of the opening scenes. M[me. Tetrazzini 's first recitatives, therefore, passed
' '
Patti's Smile
almost unnoticed, and
231
it was not until she commenced Ah! fors* e lui that the audience really settled down to the enjoyment of her superb singing. And superb it was from this point: never has a more
the famous
exquisite rendering of the music been heard at Covent Garden. " 'La Tetrazzini/ as she has come to be called, sings the most arduous and florid vocal passages with an ease and absence of effort we have rarely, if ever, heard equalled. The packed house listened breathless until the final trill on the E in alt, and then the flood gates were loosed. The new diva had six recalls when
three she brought on with her, but the latter Signor Carpi (the Alfredo) generously recognized that the demonstration was Violetta rs alone on this occasion, and declined to ac company her after this. 'La Tetrazzini* consequently Hook the calP alone, and was received with a veritable the curtain
fell.
For the
first
tempest of applause. "It fully cemented her triumph of last Saturday, and placed her upon the topmost pinnacle of Covent Garden operatic prime donne."
the newspaper comments were very flat tering, there was one sequel to that night's per
Though
formance which was more flattering still. Early next morning there arrived at my hotel a little It was in the handwriting of Patti. ~billet doux.
the success of the I would be so good as to performance and asked take lunch with her that day at the Carlton Hotel.
it
In
she congratulated
me upon
if
Naturally I was jubilant at receiving this invita tion and accepted immediately. I found that Patti was occupying a special suite of rooms at tlie hotel.
232
My
Life of
Song
She received me very graciously and was exceed ingly generous in her complimentary remarks upon " my singing. The little lady" was neatly dressed in black silk and there was not even a thread of She was very un silver in her dark brown hair. affected and yet she bore herself with a queenly dignity and a sweet amiableness that impressed me deeply. But I did draw her attention to an interview with her which had appeared in one newspaper. In that interview Patti had admitted that she agreed with what the Press were saying. I asked Patti if that interview were authentic, and she gladly declared that it was. She added that on several occasions she had heard rising artists de scribed as the new Patti, but that it was only in my case that she had been able to agree with a de scription of that nature. At that time I had not heard her sing, and I felt a great desire to ask her to go to the piano and sing for my benefit one of
her old favorites, Gom<in' through the Bye or Home, Sweet Home. Yet I had not the courage to ask, and my great little hostess did not offer to do
this time, of course, Patti was well past Yet I was subsequently to hear her sing sixty. once before death snatched her from the world in
so.
At
which she reigned so long. Her voice, even at that late hour of her life, was still of exceptional power, sweetness and purity. I heard it with deep pleas ure and deeper sorrow. To me it seemed a terrible the tragedy that our Queen of Song was nearing end of her allotted life. I still dwell on the scene
Patti's Smile
in the Carlton Hotel that day when I was the guest of Patti and some of her countless friends. I re call the dignified but generous welcome she extend
ed
me
;
I
remember the sweetness
of her smile
;
the
genuineness of that little handshake of hers and our talk over her past triumphs and my triumph
more impressed by the nobility of the character of the "little lady/' who was so ready to admit without quaHfication that her mantle had fallen on me, than I was by the flattering declara tion that she had made. I left the Garlton that day feeling very happy. It was the greatest day of
of yesterday. I think I was
my life. An incident that occur red, not long after this made
me feel very sad and sick at heart. The night that I was singing to a crowded house in Covent Garden had been fixed for a concert at which Patti made one of her rare appearances. I felt a great desire to plead illness and not to appear at Covent Garden that night so that I could lose myself in the audi ence which would attend on Patti. Next day I greatly regretted not having done so, for one of the newspapers had vulgarly contrasted the num bers present at my performance with those who had gone to hear Madame Patti. The article was 7 to the effect that "the new Patti' was now a greater draw than the old. Dear Patti! I hope
she never
saw that article. Even if she did I think she was too great an artist as well as too noble a soul to feel hurt by it. In any case, it had an effect
234
My
Life of
Song
upon our
friendship. I have many letters from her at my home in Boni, in each of which she familiarly addresses me as dearest Luisa.'*
"My
Patti was a frequent visitor at Covent Garden during my seasons there. And whenever I caught her gaze -she always answered with her sweet and
appreciative smile. Siometimes she would go far ther than this and would go back to her hotel and write me one of those impulsive and heartening
letters
which were characteristic of
her.
The
fol
lowing, written in Patti 's own handwriting, in which she declares that my singing literally made her weep, I have treasured most carefully. It reached me on the evening of May 1, 1908, the
day after the opening of the grand opera season at Covent Garden in which I had again appeared
as Violetta in Traviata.
This
is
the letter:
Carlton Hotel, London,
MY
May
DEAR MADAME TETRAZZINI
:
1st, 1908.
Bravo! Bravo! and again Bravo! I how much pleasure it gave me to hear and what a joy it was to me to hear Italian phrasing, and how immensely by the wonderful feeling and pathos
cannot
tell yon yon last night, your beautiful touched I was
You made me
of your voice. cry in the last act. I should like also to add that in addition to the phenomenal brilliancy and purity of your high, notes, your beautiful method, your phrasing, the ease and flexibility of your voice and your acting, all gave me the very greatest pleas ure, and I shall take the first opportunity of going to hear you again.
Patti's Smile
235
I heartily rejoice in your well-deserved triumph.
Bravo
I
Bravo
!
And
again Bravo Yours sincerely, ADELINA PATTI CEDERSTBOM.
! !
What a wonderful letter
ances in
At my homes
in Italy
I have countless souvenirs of my public appear all parts of the world. I cherish them all. Each links the present with some delightful ex perience of the past. I would not willingly part with one of these souvenirs. And the one which I prize most of all is this letter from my illustrious compatriot, Patti. Praise from a mixed audience is very gratifying after one has given it of her best. But praise, and such praise, from Patti, is far more than the passing pleasure of a public ovation. I treasure it as a peasant maid would treasure a lillet doux from a Eoyal lover. It is a sacred missive
!
CHAPTER XY
MY
CLASSIC FIGHT
WITH HAMMEBSTEIN"
London
remaining
New York!
at the To description of the AFTER give aeight performancesscenesCovent at
Garden in the autumn of 1907 would be but to repeat what I have written of my second appear ance there. Every time I appeared the house was crowded, and greater crowds were turned away. The only difference seemed to be that those who " could not afford to book seats had to queue up"
Instead of arriving at midday, they used to appear outside the opera house im On one occasion a mediately after breakfast. little group was in position before daybreak. I have always sympathized with the opera queues and have occasionally protested to various man agements against the practice, and I have yet to hear a satisfactory objection to advance booking for the gallery and other cheap parts. It may be a good advertisement of the talents of an artist or
earlier than ever.
the quality of a production to compel impecunious persons to wait in all weathers outside a theatre for ten or twelve hours, but it is, to say the least,
bad for the health of these persons of both sexes whose love of great art makes them despise all
236
My Classic Fight With Hammerstein
237
physical discomforts and fatigue. To most of us, congenial circumstances are necessary to tlie en joyment of the arts; those who can enjoy while
enduring always arouse in
tion.
me unbounded admira
ten operatic performances at Covent Garden were ended the authorities did something which, I am informed, they had not done before or since. They gave half a dozen orchestral concerts,
When my
which I was the star singer. Each of these con certs was an astonishing success. There was a deal of talk in the English Press that I had good been secured for England during the next four years, and that, consequently, America would not
at
during this time. Which talk was very far from the truth. In accordance with the new contract, I returned to England for the grand opera at Coyent Garden in 1908, but later in the year I embarked for New York. Though an in
see
me
competent impresario had, some years before, at tempted to secure me for the Metropolitan, nothing sufficiently attractive had been offered me, so this was my first visit as a prima donna to America's principal city. Before leaving England I had abundant evidence that I was now famous in New York through my work in London, but I did not know that I was to be regarded as a being more exalted than just a successful prima donna. Yet it was so. My advent was being eagerly awaited by Oscar Hammerstein and the whole opera com
pany and employees
at
the Manhattan
Opera
238
My
Life of
Song
House. They were looking to me as the bringer of fortune to the Manhattan and all connected with
it at
a critical period in
its life.
Its controller,
Mr. Oscar Hammerstein, had the makings of a genius, but he had many of the failings common He wanted to be a .Napoleon in to great men. the realm of opera. He was not content to put his own opera house on a paying basis; he must go further and stamp under his foot any rival. Of the outcome of his many designs and activities, all
interested in opera are already aware. Potential Napoleons whether their activities are devoted to
vanquishing peoples or only business rivals have an uninspiring habit of ending their days in ob scurity in St. Helena. All their achievements seem small when contrasted with their great failures. Hammerstein, as the world knows, was swallowed by his rival, the Metropolitan. Thinking to take London by storm, he came to England and built a beautiful opera theatre the London Opera House. Covent G-arden was to be knocked out in a single round. But he soon found, as many an other Aimerican has found, that old English insti tutions do not collapse so readily. In London he did not even achieve the doubtful success of being bought out by his rival. London would not have Oscar Hammerstein or his beautiful opera house ; and so the Napoleon of the opera returned to " America and the estate agent put the House to
Let" notice outside his derelict theatre. What his artistic soul must have undergone when he learned
My Classic Fight With Hammerstein
that
it
239
again failed this time as a circus and menagerie and that it subsequently succeeded as a cinema, only another musical Napoleon could really appreciate. At the time of my arrival in New York, Oscar Hammerstein was suffering from the great popularity of Caruso. Italy's great tenor
was the luminary
and none of would induce him to cross over to the Manhattan. Caruso was drawing the crowds; the Manhattan was not doing so well. As I had been instrumental in turning an unfortunate Covent Garden season into an unqualified success, so, in Hammerstein 's opinion, I was destined to
at the Metropolitan,
Hammer stein's
efforts
change the fortunes of the Manhattan. But Ham merstein was soon to discover that it is one thing to be successful and another thing to bring about the downfall of a rival.
New York was to me, as to the an event of the first importance. A Manhattan, year ago I had reached London unheralded and un known. Here it was different. I found New York had been aroused to fever heat over my coming. Whatever his failings, Hamper stein was a good showman. His Press agents had filled the Ameri can newspapers with articles all eulogistic of my powers. He went farther and infused his company with some of his own enthusiasm for me. And so, when I landed in America, I found to my great
My
arrival in
surprise that all who had anything to do with the Manhattan had come down to the ship to greet me. "Here is Oscar Hammerstein himself," said my
240
My
as
lie
Life of
Song
pointed to a dapper figure with hat that was hustling in my pointed beard and direction. Hammerstein came and saluted me, With him was Mary Garden, the famous American prima donna, carrying a glorious bouquet of exotic flowers. Near by were all the other members of the company. They all pressed round me, shook my hand, and cheered me as though I were their President, or at least one of their champion boxers or baseball players. Their excitement was not without some justification, for I found that the seats had been sold for every performance at which I was to sing at the Manhattan for the next three weeks. What was more, Oscar Hammerstein had achieved the dream of his life he had induced the famous four hundred millionaires of New York
silk
:
own manager,
who had hitherto
exclusively patronized the Metro politan to engage boxes and stalls at the Manhat tan. I am afraid the sight of those "four hun dred" in his opera house on the first night I sang
there must have turned Hammer stein's head com pletely. It was then that he probably first decided to be a Napoleon of the operatic world. He thought
that the boom would last forever, that as he had been the first impresario to present me to New York, he would always be able to retain me as one I really believe that he of his "songbirds." would cease to be a pull. thought Caruso As it happened, the Metropolitan was not crushed. Caruso sang there on different nights from those on which I sang at the Manhattan, with
My Classic Fight With Hamrnerstein
241
the result that instead of one theatre doing well and the other doing badly, both Metropolitan and Manhattan had a prosperous season. The Manhat tan did so well that Hanunerstein could afford to
pay me the $2,500 nightly stipulated in my con This figure I may say was fixed by myself, for when I was first invited to the Manhattan I was offered a blank sheet and told to write on it the amount I wanted for each performance, being
tract.
assured that whatever I asked would be agreed to. And I filled in $2,500, which was nearly five times the amount then being paid me for singing at Cownt Garden. This was the highest salary which had ever been paid in New York to a prima donna for a season in grand opera. Caruso at that time was earning, I believe, $2,000 a performance. The
salary which Caruso received was mentioned to me privately at the Metropolitan Opera House some
time after this; it was when the directors were giving a series of six gala performances. GattiCasazza, the director, asked me what my fee would be for each of these performances, and I replied that I should want $2,500.
are paying Caruso two thousand/' re "If the great tenor knows that we pay plied he. you two thousand five hundred, he will want the I held out for the figure I had named, and same.
'
"But we
'
G-atti-Casazza gave way. He made one condition, however, which I had to agree to that I must not tell Signor Caruso the actual amount I was receiv
:
ing.
Whether Caruso ever did ask anyone
else
242
My
Life of
Song
what I
much
in
received, I cannot say. Although I saw of our great tenor after those days of mine
York, I ever found him as unaffected as he was great. Never did I hear him say an ill word of another member of my profession. Whenever I was at the Metropolitan, Caruso always came to the stage to see me, and invariably extended to me a kindly welcome. There is no need to give many details of those successful three seasons I spent with Hammerstein. My second season with Hammerstein was notable in one respect. When singing in London I had met John McCormack, the Irish tenor with the God-given voice. I found that his rich voice went so well with mine that I took him back with me to America, and he sang with me both in New York and in the other big towns when the Ham merstein company went on tour. The Americans took John McCormaek to their heart, and the Irish tenor took to America. He has made a fortune here, has become naturalized, and has settled down
in Connecticut.
New
The
voice of
John McCormack
is
one of the most delightful that I have ever heard. It has color, tone and a rich Irish flavor which en
sures a ready response wherever it is heard. The Ameicans, to use one of their own phrases, "just " love it. In writing of tenors I am reminded of a saying
by Madame Calve, the famous Carmen, to a
New
York
journalist at the time
in America.
"What
she sang with me do you think of popular
when
My Classic Fight With Hammerstein
243
tenors?" asked the journalist. "They have no vigor," replied Calve, speaking somewhat con temptuously. "They do not put their whole soul into their singing. All my life I have been expect ing to play with a tenor who would so lose himself in his part that he would throw me over into the orchestra. But/' she lamented, "not one has ever
done
it."
For three years Hammerstein acted as my im to presario. The newspapers were always ready
refer to
me
as his "favorite songbird," his star
of stars.
They discovered that he invariably met me on the boat on my return from Europe, but that he did not take the trouble to go down to greet
others, including
Notices such as the following were always appearing in the Ameri
Mary
G-arden.
can Press
:
vision in chinchilla, with turban, long coat and little boots, all of this fur, Tetrazzini Oscar Hammerstein 's star of stars arrived
"A
on the Cunard liner Campania today. Mr. Hammerstein was at the dock to meet her, and with true Continental politeness implanted a resounding Mss of welcome on each cheek of
the singer."
In such vivid descriptive language the American
refer to all persons in the public journalists love to
The time came when my friendship with Hammerstein suddenly snapped. The blame uneye.
244
My
Life of
Song
Metro out Hammerstein and politan Opera House bought thought they had bought out Tetrazzini as well. My contract was with Hanunerstein. He wrote me a letter which contained the amazing news that of the Napoleon had sold himself to Wellington that I was to consider Metropolitan. He told me
questionably was
his.
The
directors of the
of the Metropoli myself as under, the management tan Opera House. The suggestion of my being was bought and sold at the will of opera financiers a bombshell. I felt very indignant and resolved to have none of it. I wrote back to Oscar Ham-
merstein and told him that nothing was farther from my intentions than to place myself at the bid House. 1 added ding of the Metropolitan Opera that since he had now no intention of carrying out the agreement he had made with me I considered my part of it was ended. If there were to be contracts with the changes I would make fresh To fit for my purposes. persons I thought most not this Hammerstein replied that since I would
to consider myself go to the Metropolitan, I was I as being still under his management. He said was to tour the country during the coming season with Orville Harrold, the American tenor, and others. He proposed to send me an advance on my
salary
My reply I told Hammerstein that I was a firm refusal. should not go on tour and should not sing under
and my steamship
ticket as well.
his
management again. About this time several other impresarios were
My Classic Fight With Hammerstein
245
striving to secure contracts with me. Mr. Dippel, of the Metropolitan, finding I would not cross over at the dictation of Hammerstein, endeavored to
arrange a contract with me on his own account while I was in London. Though I had not signed with this house, an announcement was made to the effect that I had done so, also stating that as there
was no competition, my own salary and that of other opera stars would not be so high in future.
Other conflicting announcements made at this time the summer of 1910 without my authority, were that I had made it up with Hammerstein, that I was going on concert tour of the United States, that I would never again sing in America without the consent either of Hammerstein or the Metro
politan or both.
great question seems to be receiving less attention than it deserves/' said the San Francisco Chronicle in August, 1910. "Will Tetrazzini sing
"A
again in America, or will she not? Oscar Ham merstein says she won't; our own Doc Leahy says she will Perhaps Tetrazzini will enlighten us!"
There was considerable pother in the American newspapers at this time. Conflicting statements " continued to appear under such headings as: Why Tetrazzini Will IsTot Appear in Opera in New
York," "Herr Dippel 's Mat Angered Tetrazzini," "Tetrazzini Still Hammerstein 's Star," "Tetraz zini Feels Herself Slighted," "Hammerstein and Leahy Both Claim Tetrazzini," "Catching a Song bird for the Opera Lovers: Looks easy, but see
246
My
it
Life of
Song
takes to sign up Tetrazzini," and so on. Musical America wrote: "I wish Tetrazzini would sign up a contract with somebody and have
what
it
published in all the papers. We are getting posi tively dizzy trying to find out what she is going to do and whom she will have for a manager next winter." The truth of the situation as to Hammerstein I have already explained. The new position briefly
Early in May, 1910, Mr. Dippel, to gether with Arthur Hammerstein, the son of the great Oscar, were in London. They visited me and drew up a contract agreeable to both parties. Then Mr. Dippel stated that he had no power to sign the contract, but must return to America to secure the consent of all the directors. He asked for an option which would give him time to go .back to
was
this:
America
to get this done.
I gave the option.
To
my surprise, instead of getting a definite reply I received a number of propositions from various
persons, none of
authority to sign a contract. When Mr. Dippel returned to London in July he wrote to me asking if I would see him
as there were one or two things he wanted to say In to me which he could not put into writing.
whom had
view of what had passed and the general dilatoriness of the Metropolitan management, I declined to see him or to have anything more to do at that time with what was virtually a concert and operatic
trust.
reason for defying Hammerstein and booking up with an impresario from
My
also,
San
My Classic Fight With Hammerstein
Francisco,
naut,
is
247
published at that time in the
made plain in a spirited article which, San Francisco Argo was taken up and republished everywhere.
in
"Tetrazzini," said the Argonaut, "is coining to sing San Francisco. After five years of triumphs she is coming back to the threshold of her success bearing the world indorsements of San Francisco's opinion. She is coming to sing with the great Polacco combina tion to sing with it only here. San Francisco con sequently will have a real opera season this winter, with a really great prima donna, that will be a treat for music lovers and a chance to wear one 's very best
and have an event.
it seen.
These things combined constitute
grand opera season always means gaiety and fes and so it is an interesting, a welcome and agree able announcement but much easier to make than to arrive at Catching songbirds for the opera lovers is no easy matter there are so few really, truly songbirds and so many opera lovers and catching this especial col
tivity,
' '
A
"So that in Tetrazzini's coming back we are assured of an event we have something to look forward to.
oratura rara avis is particularly difficult, because well, just because she is Tetrazzini, and being Tetrazzini is swayed by so many reasons besides the potent money reasons. Catching gorillas in the Straits Set
tlements, and orchids in the tropics, and tortoises on the G-alapagos, is a mere trifle compared with catch ing real operatic songbirds, because once captured the For ex former stay caught, while the songbirds ample, in catching Tetrazzini it isn't just the formality of cabling terms and tearing the answer open to read ' That isn't at all the way it's done. Accepted.'
248
My
;
Life of
Song
Tetrazzini lias been out in a characteristic letter ex plaining that a somewhat wrathy letter, denying the assumption that she can be sold like a package of breakfast food, or passed from one manager to another along with the props and the office furniture. "She has labelled all the reported plans for her coming season as mis-statements, to say the least. She is NOT going to sing for Dippel in Chicago and Philadelphia; she is NOT going to sing for the Metro politan management in New York she has NOT signed any contract with operatic managements in New York,
;
Boston, Philadelphia and Chicago, where they would like to have Tetrazzini seasons; she is quite positive about what she is NOT going to do and why? She is not at all pleased that it should be assumed her agree ment with Oscar Hammerstein could be passed on to Gatti-Casazza of the Metropolitan management, her voice to be parcelled out at the pleasure of the new manager. She doesn't like to have things done that way, and she has made enough money in the past five years of her triumphs to indulge her whims. "She is not going to be engaged like a pig in a poke, to be featured so many times in concert and so many times in opera, and then be informed that instead it will suit the manager's convenience to have her so many times in opera and so many times in concert
The Dippels, the Casazzas, the Khan and instead. Eussells shall not presume to have everything to say in disposing of her. 'I will be consulted: I shall say .what I will do,' was her fiat, and she went to London. "And now comes the authoritative announcement that she has signed with W. H. Leahy of San Fran otherwise 'Our Doc' Leahy of the Tivoli, and cisco JJetrazzini's discoverer for the season of 1910-1911 and that the first use of her consent he has made is
My Classic Fight With Hammerstein
249
to put her on for a brilliant operatic season here this winter. "I'll wager she signed that contract with 'Doc'
easily and amiably and happily, and while she probably held ont for all the money to be got, and more than she'd been getting as is the way of song birds she didn't make any insnrmountable difficulty about it, pnd was amenable to reason, for that would be like Tetrazzini. "She is a tantalizing bundle of contradictions,
Leahy
warm-hearted," praise-and-pleasure-loving, impulsive, and so far as business exactions go, impatient and She cherishes a great kindness for irresponsible. <Doc Leahy because he discovered her; her career and what she calls her good luck started with him and the Tivoli in 1904; she has a fondness for San Fran cisco and a friendship and admiration for that mag netic, inspiring musician, Polacco, who was the leader of the Tivoli orchestra when she made her triumph here. All these things inclined her to listen attentively to 'Doc' Leahy's offer, while other operatic managers were awaiting her decision and it pleased her that he should go to London to see her, instead of cabling her. He had recently returned from Milan, where he had been making preparations for an operatic venture, and when he heard that Tetrazzini was 'up in the air/ he ferried across the Atlantic as quickly as he could, and put his inducements before her in London some ten days ago, and as enticingly as he could, while other
?
managers were
cabling.
"Tetrazzini has her own pleasant memories of her San Francisco engagements, particularly of her fare well night, which fell on Tuesday, November 7, 1905. She sang from the operas in which she made her suc cesses Lucia, Traviata and Dinorah, and the boxoffice turned away 10,000 ticket buyers, it was claimed,
250
My
it is
Life of
Song
truth that not another person could have been squeezed into the theatre. Her last curtain here rang down on her singing the Star-Spangled Banner, with the audience standing and singing with her, her pure, bird-like tone rising sweet and clear above everything. " There's a rememberable thrill in memories like this,
and
and Tetrazzini, I've no doubt, was swayed by it as well as by the advantageous and agreeable terms so shrewd a business man as 'Doc' Leahy would see fit
to these things this com of persuasive influences that plicated conglomeration 'Doc' Leahy got that coveted signature of the tem peramental Luisa inscribed in the right place on his contract. Thus, you see, are songbirds captured, and not by a pinch of salt."
it is
to offer.
And
owing
Though
ists,
this writer, like
most American journal
spirit,
wrote with some levity as well as
there
was much that was truth in what was written. Then there began a legal process which soon
developed into a cause celebre. Oscar Hammerstein, hearing that I had decided to go to S'an Francisco, took legal proceedings to prevent me from doing so. He obtained an order from the Courts to sequester all my luggage and valuables. I was told that I must not even leave New York.
American law is very tedious. I do not remember half of what happened. The lawyer came and and the case dragged on. The journalists went, called to see me every day to ask what was going to happen next. I told them that if I were not permitted to sing in San Francisco in accordance
with my agreement, rather than accept Oscar
Ham-
My Classic Fight With Hammerstein
251
merstein's altered arrangements I would sing in the streets of New York. "I have to live some
how/ I explained to them. "But would you really sing
5
in the streets
in
Broadway, for instance?" they asked. "Indeed I would!" "But you are a Hammerstein star. You cannot
afford to do that."
"I am no longer a Hammer stein star," I re torted, "and I can't spend all my time living in expensive New York hotels paying lawyers' bills without drawing in some money. And nobody in New York can or shall prevent Tetrazzini from
opening her mouth." Interviews in this vein were frequently appear ing in the American Press, with the result that I obtained the biggest free advertisement ever given to a prima donna, not excepting Patti or Jenny
Lind. I did not find
it
necessary to sing in the streets
of New York. A break in the clouds came in the shape of a new order by the Courts which gave me
permission to leave
New York and to take away my
possessions on condition that I deposited $30,000 with the legal authorities. If the protracted legal proceedings ultimately resulted in my favor, I was to get the money back if in favor of Hammer
;
I never saw that money stein, he would get it. again; it went into Hammerstein 's pocket, which at this time was swollen with the monies paid to himi by the Metropolitan Opera House. This
.
252
My
Life of
Song
$30,000 of mine, with $970,000 more, was sunk in the unfortunate London Opera House and lost.
Though Hammerstein secured $30,000 of my earnings, I do not think I was a loser in the end. The advertisement which the case brought me was worth far more than the money I lost. I estimate
the value of the tremendous publicity occasioned by that case at about $500,000. When I reached San Francisco the journalists there swarmed to
where I was staying. They all wanted to know whether I was in earnest in saying that I would
sing in the streets. I laughingly replied that I was. So the city authorities met and decided to
me to sing in the big public square in the centre of the town on Christmas Eve, in aid of local charities. I agreed to their request, and there
ask
took place the biggest open-air concert, so it was The number of stated, that has ever been held. persons present was estimated at being almost a quarter of a million. All the shops had been shut at nine o'clock to allow of everybody's being pres ent, and everyone in the city seemed to be there that night. Never in my life have I seen such a vast congregation. I stood on a raised dais and
looked out on a great multitude of people who, standing shoulder to shoulder, their faces up turned, stretched away until they became blurred and lost to my view. The windows of all the houses were thrown open, and I could see heads and shoul
ders leaning out.
All were anxious to participate
My Classic Fight With Hammerstein
in the greatest concert had ever seen.
253
San Francisco
or the world
A colonel in the American Army was there with
his regiment, his duty being to assist in maintain the colonel ing order. During the
Madame Tetrazzini, I do not know your language, but I will speak to in the language that all the world under you stands." With that he took my fingers, bent his head, and implanted a kiss on my hand. That colonel, then unknown, has now a world reputation. I read of him and the exploits of the American army during the Great War. He was no longer a colonel he had become General Pershing, Commander-in-Chief of the United States Army in France.
to
said:
;
came up
me and
proceedings "
A very large
this concert.
sum was
collected for the
poor at
The city authorities were delighted at its success. One result was that they presented me with the freedom of the city, an honor which has been conferred on me by many other towns during my career. In the centre of this square there is a fountain, and on a column by this foun
tain there has been placed a bust of myself, which bears this inscription: "Here in 1910 Tetrazzini sang for the poor/
'
on that Christmas Eve established a precedent. Every year since that time there has been held an open-air Christmas Eve concert in aid of San Francisco's poor. Wherever I hap pen to be at that time, I send a telegram to tbe
My concert
254
My
of the
Life of
Song
mayor
town offering him my best wishes for the 'success of the event. Within a few days I receive from the mayor a letter telling me what has
Needless to
say, I anticipate this letter
happened in the old familiar square.
with great eagerness
and read it before any of my other correspondence on the day that it arrives. And Oscar Hammerstein? I am sorry to have to say that we did not resume friendly relations;
but a long time after the Tetrazzini-Hammerstein case had ended I heard through a mutual friend that the impresario would have been willing to re turn to me the $30,000 if he could again become
manager. When I was on the high seas, re turning to America, he died, and so he did not get the opportunity of again becoming my good friend. I do not bear malice to anyone, even if they go to the extreme length of suing me in the courts. Had Hanunerstein come to me and asked me to wipe out the past, I should have done it quite readily. I should not have accepted the $30,000 for myself, but I should probably have insisted that he gave it to some deserving cause, as I felt he was not entitled to benefit from a loss by a woman who was earning her living with her voice. On the whole, I feel more sorry for than angry with Hammerstein. Unquestionably he was a very big impre His ideas were fine, but some were im sario. possible. He made the colossal mistake of allow ing his clear vision to be clouded by the desire to
my
triumph over
all others.
He had
the true artistic
My Classic Fight With Hammerstein
spirit,
255
had devoted himself solely to the furtherance of operatic art he might have accom plished great things. His disasters were due to his desire to be a god. When will men learn that only the humble can hope to become truly great? It is a big thing to build opera houses and to give rep resentations of all the great works of the greatest composers; but it is a poor and mean undertaking to set out with the avowed object of crushing those
if lie
and
already performing this uplifting work to the best of their ability. Musical Napoleons are no more
necessary than Napoleons
The world wants music
its cares,
to
who would rule empires. charm and soothe away
not impresarios seeking to be gods.
CHAPTER XVI
"WELCOMED AT THE WHITE HOUSE
SEVERAL
when
sang at the Man hattan Opera House I met Heinrich Conreid, of the Metropolitan Opera House, at the time
years before I
first
the Metropolitan, as now, was the Mecca of American music lovers and the goal of every all international artist. Conreid made me an offer, and I agreed to sing for him. Two copies were made of the contract, one in English, and the other
in French.
I found later that there was a discrepancy be tween the figures appearing in these two docu ments how it came about I do not suggest but the result was that I decided not to go to the Metropolitan, but to accept an offer to sing in San Francisco. When the time came for me to sing in
San Francisco, Mr. Conreid attempted to prevent me, and sought an injunction in the courts at this town. The judge, I remember, stated that he had bought a box to hear me sing that night, and then,
I
am glad to say, gave a ruling in my favor. When I made my debut at the Manhattan many of the newspapers criticized Conreid for letting me
slip
through his
fingers.
I have a copy of the
Kansas City Star, which said:
256
Welcomed
at the
White House
257
"Two years later Tetrazzini stood before an audience of five thousand persons in New York, the object of a demonstration such as has rarely been accorded an artist on any stage in that city. The walls of Hammer stein *s opera house fairly
voices of five thousand persons joined ' in tumultous 'Bravos. Twelve rounds of applause
shook.
The
brought her before the curtain as
the
first act
many times
after
of Traviata.
At
the conclusion of the
second act the house was on its feet. Up and down went the Hammer stein curtain in ten minutes of cheering and uproar. On this night which wit nessed the Tetrazzini success in New York few
men who had made the one his and the other his worst guess one misjudged an artist two years before the other, Oscar Hammerstein, was sitting in the wings thinking of how, by a wise stroke of business policy, he had bought success for his grand opera venture. There were
thought of the two
best
: ;
thirteen thousand real dollars in the box-office,
representing one night *s receipts, and he, Hammerstein, of the funny silk hat and the wide, flat feet, was resting serenely on the assurance of the many thousands more that were yet to come." When I returned to New York in 1909 for my second season with Hammerstein at the Manhattan, I had a reception which for enthusiasm equalled all that had been proffered when I first sang to New York in 1908. "AH the wealth of enthusi
asm/' said the Evening Telegram, "and babel of acclaim that have greeted Madame Tetrazzini in
258
My
Life of
Song
the past were a part of the spectacular show last evening at the Manhattan Opera House. She sang in Traviata. It would scarcely be necessary, ex cept as a matter of historical record, to say that it was an Italian night. The first outburst of greet
ing was freighted with comradeship, and it seemed that not less than four-fifths of the audience were
bent on telling the smiling little woman just how happy they all were that she was with them again.
Up
where the true lovers
sit
below the arches of
the dome, Italy prostrated itself at the feet of the
murmurs
hungry
silvery-voiced songstress, and intermingled steady of approval with the ejaculatory and
tus
whenever opportunity
offered.
No
queen ever was served more loyally than Tetrazzini by the lords and ladies of the true lovers/' True lovers of opera, as the writer aptly de
compatriots, would appear in force in every one of the houses at which I sang in America. How glad I was to see themi they all knew. If I
scribed
my
recognized as I frequently did a band of Italians, I always gave them; a special bow of For even in hospitable America were greeting. we not all strangers in a strange land? I have
many
a pleasant recollection of meetings with my compatriots in that great Union of states. Per haps some went too far in their "hero worship."
They wrote me
letters
long,
effusive letters
couched in the language they might have used in addressing a monarch. Some of my compatriots
would allow
their appreciation of
my
singing to
Welcomed
at the
White House
259
to hear, or
overbalance their sense of fair play, and refuse would even hiss, other artists who ap peared in the same programme with me. Occa sionally I had to appeal to my too zealous com
patriots to give fair play to all giving of their best,
all, for,
I said, they and deserved appre ciation and encouragement, not hoots and hisses. In Italy I know it is the custom to treat a medi ocre singer with scant courtesy and sometimes hiss him, and even her, off the stage. I am thankful that I was never compelled to endure that kind of reception, but my heart has often ached for those unfortunate artists who have been so treated. To sing to a poor house is punishment sufficient, if punishment is at all necessary, without adding to
were
an artist's misery by vulgar abuse. No singer is ever hooted off the concert or operatic platform in England, and for the sake of our great profession and my country, which produces so many compos ers and singers, I hope this mean practice will soon die out in my beloved homeland. When I was in Venice on holiday I enjoyed
yes,
enjoyed the sensation of being nearly hissed! I met a young acquaintance, a girl who was playing a small part in a comic opera which was then be ing given in this city. Her role was that of a stage-struck girl who, trying to sing in opera, sings so badly that the public hiss her off the stage. My girl friend was admirably suited to the part, for she had a very feeble voice. Unfortunately, the audience objected to her singing off the key, al-
260
My
Life of
Song
though the author's instructions were that she had to do so. The poor young actress needed money very badly and was in ill health. She was in a dilemma. If she appeared, the audience would be
infuriated by her if she did not, she would starve. " Don't worry. I'll sing for you for the three evenings they want to give that play/' I said to
;
pretend to sing, but don't make a sound. I will go behind the scenes and sing, and no one in the audience will know." My only diffi culty was that I did not want anyone else connected
her.
"You
with the theatre to know my identity, so we, my girl friend and I, concocted a pretty story. I was to pose as a young Russian whose family objected to her going on the stage, and I was supposed to be unable to speak more than a little Italian. The arrangements were made, and I went to the re
hearsal in
wearing a thick veil. Nobody paid me any attention until I began to sing, and then they all crowded round me in great
oldest clothes,
my
excitement.
But I
couldn't talk to them, as I spoke
so little Italian.
of the first performance came, and I sang the big aria from the first act of II Trovat ore only I sang it as I was accustomed to sing it,
The evening
The time came when the old father in the play had to exclaim: "Oh, my child, my child; they are hissing her!" But the stage public had become so entranced with the way I sang this air that they forgot their part which
and did not go
off the key.
Welcomed
at the
White House
261
"Oh, my "Oh, shut up! Shut up!" The real public had asserted themselves. Some of them were standing up making angry signs to the old man to cease interrupting. The old man sat down, looking surprised and cowed. I con
was to Mss. Not so the old man. When they did not act on his lines, he began to repeat them: " child
tinued singing. At the close of the aria, when the trio comes in, the other two actors forgot even to try to sing, so I sang the trio alone. At the end there was frantic applause, and all the artists went out to bow to the real public, the supposed singer
among them but
;
the audience were not so readily
deceived.
"No, no!" they shouted. "We want the real prima donna!" The embarrassed manager came to me and made signs to show that I must go out. This was a de velopment against which I had made no provision, and I tried to hurry off by the wings. But the
manager barred my passage and, taking mie by the hand, led me to the front. Even though I still wore my veil, I felt certain that someone present would recognize me and startle the building by shouting "Tetrazzini." The audience did shout, but not my name. They shouted to me to remove my veil, and, there being no way of escape, I had There was no one to obey. Wonder of wonders present who had ever seen me or heard me sing
!
before.
262
My
Life of
Song
final nights,
This scene was repeated on the succeeding and and no one detected that the unknown
Russian singer was the well-known TetrazzinL It is true that the author complained to the manager,
his brother, that I wasn't true at all to his comedy a remark that might also apply to me when sing
ing certain operas, for I like to improvise when I see an opportunity. The author of this comedy had insisted that the girl must sing badly, must get off the key, and must be hissed by the stage public. But the author was not supported in his complaint
by his brother, the manager, who only replied:
"Look
my
at the box-office receipts; the public flock to theatre, which has had a unique and cheap
7
boom.'
The talented young Russian was obliged to leave
the stage of this Venetian playhouse after those three performances, and disappeared from the
came several years later when I was singing in Buenos Aires. In the prin cipal of the South American theatre I at once rec
town.
droll sequel
A
ognized the manager of the Venetian comedy the atre. It was not surprising that he failed at first to know in the prima donna named Tetrazzini the mysterious Russian debutante who had caused a minor commotion in his Venetian playhouse; but a few days after we had begun rehearsals he came up to me in a puzzled manner and said: "I feel sure that I have met you somewhere-^ perhaps a long time ago. It wasn't in Buenos Aires ; it may have been in Italy. And I seem to
Welcomed
at the
White House
263
our meeting were I right? unusual, though not unpleasant. Have I met you before, signora ?"
recall that the circumstances of
Am
And I replied, laughing heartily. what is more, I have sung as one of your artists in your theatre in Venice." " TetWith that he seemed still more mystified.
' '
You have,
' '
' '
razzini, Tetrazzini; I
am
sure I have never
had
stopped and looked at me curiously for a moment, and then suddenly burst Can it really be forth with: "Good heavens! true? Were you that mysterious Eussian who sang
the honor
"
He
my brother's comedy and disappeared in as strange
a
way
' '
as
you came ?"
!
"Y;es, I was." And to think that I never recognized you Oh, what a joke. No wonder we had to turn the people " Then, speaking very sorrowfully, he said away.
:
'But what a pity. If we had only have trebled the prices."
6
known we would
The night of November 10, 1909, I well remem ber, for it was then that I introduced John McCormack to New York. I have already mentioned how impressed I had been with his glorious voice when he sang with me at Covent Garden, and I was greatly pleased, as well as amused, when I read
some of the newspaper accounts of his debut in New York. "That Mr. McCormack is a decided is undoubted," said the acquisition to the company " He is a pure lyric New York Evening Post.
tenor, with a carefully trained voice; pure, clear.
264
My
flexible,
Life of
Song
and naturally placed. His tones were always true and sympathetic, and his mezzo, voce was most effective. At the outset, in addition to his apparent physical suffering, he was palpably nervous, but Madame Tetrazzini came to his rescue by crossing the stage and giving him a gentle pat
of encouragement."
even and
The New York Times added: "He immediately
became popular with the audience, and Madame Tetrazzini insisted on his sharing all her calls after
the first act."
December 8, 1909, also wrote humorously on the event: "That Tetrazzini fully realizes his exceptional ability and delights in singing with him is evidenced in the persistent manner in which she insists upon his assuming his burden of applause. Last night Tetrazzini liter
The Record,
of
ally
dragged the hero forth."
John McCormack, Sammarco and I went on tour through America, singing at most of the big towns, under the management of Hammerstein. During that tour and subsequently many of the audience were completely deceived by my coughing while
playing the part of the tubercular Violetta. Many went away from the opera house in the belief that I was actually ill, for they argued that no singer who had any thought of her voice would take such liberties with her throat and chest. Said the Eve ning Mail: "Tetrazzini insists upon an incessant cough, which degree of realism never fails to bring the sympathy of the audience but this sympathy
;
Welcomed
is
at the
White House
265
for the singer Tetrazzini, not for Her tubercular Violetta." "As usual, the singer accomplished all kinds of
wonderful things with her
voice,
" said the
PMa-
delpMa Press. "She took the high notes beauti as a fully, and gave her trills and runs as easily She is able to make believe that she bird. is French, that she is consumptive, and almost that she is thin, though obviously and to the naked eye she is none of these. But from the moment that
. .
.
she runs across the stage at her first appearance until she falls dead at the end she is always in the
character/'
The American newspapers, unlike the English Press, were not reluctant to comment upon my
figure.
Another Philadelphia newspaper thought "Of it proper to describe my Violetta thus: course, Tetrazzini did not die of a wasting con
sumption but she entered into the pathetic spirit of the last act like an artist, and no heartless mon ster in the gallery dared call out, as they did for Where is your con the original Violetta in Italy
; *
:
sumption? I see only dropsy,' because the creator of Violetta happened to be very stout and forgot
to go into training when she studied the role." The secret of how I was able to look this part to
perfection
was discovered
(so it professed)
by the
'Brooklyn Eagle, which announced that "the diva was encased in what looked like a suit of armor, over which was a gown heavily weighted down with
266
My
Life of
Song
make
it
spangles to such an extent as to difficult of manipulation."
.
somewhat
The proportions
I found to
of
most public persons in Amer
are brazenly referred
ica,
my surprise,
United States. I was never what the English people call thin-skinned, but I know of prime donna, as well as tenors and baritones, whose feelings have been deeply hurt by the candid references to their size, their height, or their want of it. I observed, at first almost with a shock, the irreverent remarks which the Ameri can newspapers used to make about their delightful President Taft, a man of ample proportions. It was not long after I had met the President that
to in the public Press of the
there appeared in the American newspapers arti cles with glaring headlines carried right across the
page announcing that
:
"TETBAZZINI LIKES TAFT BECAUSE HE'S SO FAT "
Apparently in one of the interviews I had given to a newspaper representative I had, without think and oily. ing, admitted that he looked plump
3'
"
Soon after that the following irreverent article appeared in the New York Morning Telegraph:
Tranquil people simply have to be
fat.
it
absolutely no getting away from it This is said seriously, because it
There is means flesh.
one having authority, fleshly jurisdiction over such an obvious point as avoir-
was spoken by authority, and mental
Welcomed
dupois.
at the
White House
dispute?
267
Why argue? Why
attribute
If peace of
mind is a worthy
and a nice thing to have in one's social assets, then let lesser minds fuss with diets and weighing machines and obesity cures. On with the tissue and tranquility. That
is all
very good for a preface
tiation of the fatty
charm of
is
now for a substan mind and manner.
talking of her latest dis covery, President Taft She doesn't want to think of anything but the days she spent in Washington. " 'Mr. Taft is a grande papa/ said she. 'He is
Tetrazzini
"
Madame
has a big pod what you say, stomach? If he were nervous he would not be like that. He is successful, and he can be com fortable and fat. He has no nerves, so he just smiles, and shuts his eyes so, and he loves the music so, and he claps his hands so. Oh, he is a beautiful grande papa one fine American. I never sang with so much joy before. I forgot Pittsburgh my nose aches when I speak of it. I only saw him and sang to him, and he shook my two hands and was very happy. I am glad he is fat. It is a pleasure to sing to him."
so tranquil, and, yes, he
"I am not," the writer
coolly admits,
?
"depend
ing on my Italian for this eulogistic understanding of Mr. Taft. Madame Tetrazzini s interpreter Miss Lathrop helped a lot. I knew what the *0h's' and the 'SoV meant, and I never doubted, by the twitch she gave her nose, what Pittsburgh
meant
(the dust in the air of the great steelIn things of this sort, in which producing city)
.
268
My
Life of
Song
concerned the weights of men and women, it is wise, it is best, and, furthermore, it is necessary to be authentic. This refreshing view of the physi cal side of the Chief Executive was detailed to me at the big hired house of the Italian wonder-singer
is
in
West End Avenue."
I laughed out for what was lacking in accuracy was bal right, anced by the writer's rich sense of humor. "But
When that article was read to me,
will the President think
what
article ?
when he sees this " I asked The President saw the myself. article and read it through, for it was copied by many other newspapers. The next time I saw the President he laughingly chided me for holding him up to public ridicule, but he admitted that he en joyed the article as much as I did. Newspaper references to the fact that I was not too slim were often made during my annual visits to the United States. I saw them on the occasion of my farewell tour in the winter of 1920-21. The Evening Public Ledger, of Philadelphiathis
town
particularly interested in the size and avoirdupois of visiting prime donne published a
is
it:
photograph of me, and boldly headed
"PLTJMP AND PBOUD OF IT
5 '
Underneath was the following
:
The great singer was "Tetrazzini, of course. in her suite at the Bellevuephotographed today
Stratf ord, after she had uttered words of consola-
Welcomed
tion for stout
at the
White House
269
women." Then came the following Americanisms in the form of headlines typical
:
"SURE, TETRAZZINI IS FAT DOESN'T CARE WHO KNOWS IT FAMOUS SONG-BIRD SHOWS RIGHT ATTITUDE FOR PLUMP " TO TAKE THEN HUMS 'HOW DRY I AM
?
out-sizes," the of your plumpness. article began, "and be prond 'Some people are born to be thin/ said the great
"Now,
listen,
yon
ladies
who wear
Tetrazzini today, 'others to be fat. I belong to the latter class. And I'm not the least ashamed of it. Why should I be? But see! It is not fat after all/
Here the soprano showed an astounding forearm. She had not exaggerated. The finest athlete in the world would have been proud to own the muscle and sinew displayed. 'Hard as nails was the only
7
good description. Madame Tetrazzini began to in hale very slowly, standing erect with her head thrown back. The visitor was amazed at the won derful chest expansion which Madame Tetrazzini
so easily accomplished. Tetrazzini said she exer cised every morning faithfully, and gave a sample
of her getting-up exercises. " 'I roll, too, all round the floor of
my room,' she did not demonstrate. said, though this time she 'But outside, at the automobile or on the horse, I do not exercise. It would be bad for my voice; I
would get overheated, and then catch cold. No, but indoors I do everything to keep myself in good con-
270
My
Life of
Song
I believe the cure for almost everything, great and small, almost every ill there is, is to breathe deep, from the bottom of the chest, like
dition.
this.'
"Madame
effilcacy
Tetrazzini
is
is
the living proof of the
of her advice.
condition,
and she
She looks in the pink of very happy and full of spirits.
'
!
'But, oh, that prohibition
"
I have many happy memories of President Taft other than the incident that I have already nar When I first visited Washington I was rated. invited to the White House to see the big Presi dent. Eising from his seat, he shook hands and,
smiling broadly, told me that he had heard me sing all the famous arias in my extensive repertoire.
"AM where
dent? ances incognito?" "Oh, no/' he laughed. "Would that I had the time to do it. The explanation is much more sim The White House has a magnificent talking ple. " machine, and I have added all your records. During my stay in Washington the President
organized a special gala performance, and invited all the ambassadors and foreign ministers and to be present. plenipotentiaries then in Washington All the members of It was an impressive evening. the diplomatic body, with the sole exception of the Italian Ambassador, were present. The President afterward apologized to me for the unavoidable
absence of the representative of
have you heard me sing, Mr. Presi Have you been attending my perform
my own
country.
Welcomed
at the
White House
told
271
When I first met the President lie
"
me that
his
favorite song was the Polonaise" from Mignon, and that he used to have it sung to him almost daily
The President was present nearly every night we were playing in " Washington, and so I sang Polonaise" on each occasion in his honor. One of the operas that we
gave at Washington, as I have mentioned earlier in this book, was The Daughter of the Regiment. What was happening in the political and musical world at Washington at that time was mentioned
zini
by the White House machine.
thus in the Philadelphia Item "Madame Tetrazmade a hit with President Taft yesterday when
:
she told
liant
'
him she knew
of his fondness for the bril
Polonaise' from Mignon.
greater hit last night, when, at Daughter of the Eegiment, in the Belasco Theatre, she sang the 'Polonaise' for the President's special
benefit.
She made a far the end of The
President Taft greeted her cordially and conversed with her for some time in Spanish. Near the end of the interview the prima donna asked in
English: "
'You come tonight?' 'My dear woman,' the President is quoted as saying, 'a dozen Cabinet meetings would not keep me away. After Madame Tetrazzini had promised to sing the Polonaise' for him that night, a tele gram! was sent to New York for the orchestral score, which arrived in time for the performance. After The Daughter of the Regiment, which marked Madame Tetrazzini 's third appearance here this week, the prima donna again appeared
'
*
1
272
My
'
v
Life of
Song
The President and Mrs. Taft were plainly pleased when the orchestra played the opening strains, and the audience, which had not been let into the secret, enthusiastically
to sing the
Polonaise.'
applauded. Madame Tetrazzini sang delightfully, and one of the foreign diplomats said, 'I have never heard the " Polonaise" so well sung/ The Presi dent sent Madame Tetrazzini some beautiful flow
ers
from the conservatories at the White House/' More of the newspapers turned their humorous journalists to writing up Taft and me. Here is an extract from the New York Herald:
"
MUSIC HATH CHABMS
MADAME
DELIGHTFUL
TETBAZZINI HAS BEEN SINGING FOB PBESIDENT TAFT
WAY
TO SMOTHEB THE SHBIEKS OF THE
INSUBGENTS!"
A headline in the Philadelphia Inquirer announced
"TETBAZZINI LANDS TAFT ENTBANCES THE PBESIDENT, WHO TELLS HEB SHE SINGS LIKE AN ANGEL"
Uinderneath was a description which stated that "The President met her with both hands ex
tended.
7 '
On the morning of my last day in Washington I
called at the
White House
to say good-bye to
Mr.
and Mrs. Taft.
To
please the wife of the Presi-
Welcomed
at the
White House
273
dent, I sang a few songs. As I was leaving, the President, bluff and large-hearted as he was physi
cally great, brought to
'
3
me an autographed
photo
graph of himself which he said was "in remem brance of Polonaise. " At the last matinee there arrived on the stage a messenger in an imposing
uniform, which the public immediately recognized as that of an emissary of the President. I could see by the effect on the audience that he represent ed someone of considerable importance. The mes senger read publicly a message from the President thanking me and my company for our services. The old, old story told of everyone who has shaken hands with a renowned personage it has
been told of persons who have shaken hands with me was told of me following my shaking hands with President Taft Some time after leaving "Washington I found myself at St. Louis, where the Post Dispatch informed the natives that: "They say the singer has a superstition about one of her hands the one President Taft shook. The superstition is that one should never wash that
hand
Tetrazzini's right hand looks all she exchanged hands with Taft last right, though Why, of course TetrazApril (nine months ago)
again.
*
.
washes both her hands,' said the hotel clerk. 'What would Tetrazzini do with a marble bathtub " if she only washed one hand?' I have the greatest regard for ex-President Taft. He impressed me as being one of the great gentle
zini
men of the world.
I somehow always associate
him
274
My
Life of
Song
with that other bluff and popular ruler who was loved by all who knew him, the late King Edward VII. Taft was so chivalrous and lent so much dignity to his great office. I was amused at one thing he told me. "I have no children/ said he, "or I should probably have named one of them Tetrazzini. All I have is a little dog, which I have christened with your surname. While he spoke,
'
' '
Taft's
little
four-legged Tetrazzini stood by
wag
ging
its tail.
American President, Mr. Woodrow Wilson, did not show such keen interest in my
The
later
singing as his predecessor. I did not mind that, but I was very much offended at something he once wrote to the effect that he preferred the Chinese
to the Italians. Despite that, I decided to invite both him and Mrs. Wilson to my concert in Paris Mr. Wilson at the time of the Peace Conference. wrote back regretting that as he had previously arranged to visit (I think) the battlefields on that date, he could not be present. But Mrs. Wilson
came.
thousands of interesting experiences through which I have gone during my early tours of America, I can remember but a few. The pro prietor of the hotel at which I stayed at Buffalo was so eager to please me that when I commented on the smallness of one of the rooms allotted me,
the
Of
he immediately brought in carpenters and masons, and, taking down partitions, made several moder ate-sized rooms into one suggestive of a ballroom!
Welcomed
at the
White House
275
One day I sang over the telephone to a little girl who was too ill to attend the opera. This incident
caused a big stir. The American Press stated that the telephone girl heard of my intention, and she told a few other girls to "listen in/ and that by the time I began a large audience was waiting at telephones all over New York to hear me sing the mad scene from Lucia. Just then there were more "engaged" wires than usual in ISTew York, and " remained engaged until the these, said the Press, last of the trills, runs and pyrotechnical cadenzas
5
had passed into memory. But the Kansas City Post, instead of publishing this story, elected to be sceptical, and declared that
' '
"Madame Tetrazzini has a Press agent who de serves a severe calling down. He has taken liber ties with a story that has been told the same way for twenty-five years and has been laid at the door of every great singer in the world. By slightly
altering the tale
so as to
it.
hapshe
a story.
has spoiled
That
make it appear new, per isn't the way to tell
that scene to a sick says the dictatorial
woman.
Nobody would sing Here is the way,"
it,
writer, "to tell
has always been told: 'A prominent society woman, a friend of Tetraz zini, got into a dispute with her friend as to the
the
way
it
words of an old folk-song, a lullaby. She called up Madame, who graciously sang it into the 'phone from start to finish. At the same time a call camie
in notifying the telephone girl that her aunt was dying of a combination of lumbago and liver com-
276
My
Life of
Song
plaint.
She immediately plugged on the sick room with the singer's apartments at St. Kegis. The dying woman, listening to the sweetest music she had ever heard, took a new grip on life.' The Press agent who tries to invent a new story takes
his reputation in his hands. safest and best."
The
old ones are the
CHAPTER XVH
EIsTVY,
INGRATITTTDE
AND BLACKMAIL
THESE
Life of Song" would be incomplete if they contained only references to the gay scenes, the pleasant ex periences, the public triumphs, the true friends. "If you possess something which no one else has
chronicles of
"My
got and which everyone would love to have get ready for trouble." I have often thought of this sage proverb when the worst that there is in some
of
fellow-creatures has stirred them to active in the I had hostility toward myself. If you are almost written "happy" position of being among
my
the obscure inhabitants of the earth, you will have few or no enemies. But as sure as night follows will day, as you rise out of your obscurity you make enemies; and the higher that you climb, the the circle who know you or your name, so
bigger the number of those
of injury,
who would do you some kind
wiU
spirit
more or
less grievous,
do not wish to write in a
ence.
I of bitterness; I
increase.
merely narrate a few facts from
my own
experi
There are members of
my own
my own
compatriots now so jealous of the pinnacle
profession, some living in Italy, who are voice has to which
my
278
My
me
Life of
Song
that they would, I know, secretly re my downfall. What would most please these envious enemies would be to hear that my voice had gone. As everyone knows, the haunting dread at the back of the mind of every great singer is that one day he or she will awake to discover that his or her voice has fled never to return. Those who have seen that remarkable
joice to learn of
carried
The Great Lover, have had that sombre aspect of a famed singer's life revealed to them with dramatic
emphasis, for in that play they see "the G-reat
play,
Lover," the adored tenor, collapse in his dressingroom when he finds that his voice has
vanished,
apparently for all time. His reign over the realm of song has suddenly ended. Another takes his place and his crown. malicious attempt to anticipate an event akin
A
me
my own life was made in 1920. I was then on my way home to Italy, having completed yet one more of my annual tours through the United States. The liner on which I was then a passenger was the President Wilson. We had reached mid-Atantic, where it was impossible for
to this in
which became neces in view of what then happened. I was seated sary in my cabin when a friend hurried in with a
of the wireless newspaper which every day on board the ship. In
to issue the contradiction
copy was published it was the fol
wireless
lowing astounding message received that day by from Paris "Tetrazzini seriously ill in Paris. It is reported
:
Envy, Ingratitude and Blackmail
that she has lost her voice,
279
and
will not
"be
able to
sing again."
I
felt
contents of this bulletin
knew
both amazed and apprehensive when the was made known to me. I that what was being printed on my own liner
was being printed on other liners and was appear ing in the English and American newspapers. The damage that I might suffer from an announcement of this nature was incalculable. Within a few hours all who had ever heard the name Tetrazzini would be under the impression that I should never again be able to sing in public, and that if I did it would not be the old Tetrazzini voice that they would hear. And the person who inspired that damaging message? What was that person's ob ject? Surely it must have been to crush Tetraz zini. If not, so to damage her name that she would
never recover her popularity. I can imagine the inspirer of that libellous message chuckling and saying: "When that gets round the world the public will no longer wish to hear her sing. Tet razzini s hour is over." To this day I do not know
?
who was
actually inspired that cruel message. I can say, however, that I lost no time in trying to overtake and nullify the evil effects of the apparently malicious falsehood that
the person
who
had been
circulated broadcast concerning me. When the other passengers on the President Wilson read this message they also came to
my
room and inquired as to the meaning of it. "Are you really Tetrazzini, or only her spirit ?"
280
My
Life of
Song
they asked. "If you are only her spirit, why are you here ? Has the real Tetrazzini passed away in
Paris*" My answer was a practical
who
one. "I don't know the unfortunate lady is who is ill in Paris," I said; "but I do know that I can soon prove to you that the real Tetrazzini is on the President Wil son." With that I sang them a few arias from my
repertoire.
When
crowded round, and one
sing like you,
they had heard these they said, "If spirits can all
spirits to
we prefer
human
beings,"
and another laughingly added that, while I was the most red-blooded and human spirit that had ever existed, I nevertheless had a voice which might
conceivably belong to a
choir.
member
of the Celestial
was because of this detrimental cablegram that I visited London in October, 1920, to give one concert, and only one, so that all London might know that I had not been ill and that my voice was unimpaired. The ten thousand Londoners who gathered in the Royal Albert Hall that Sunday afternoon soon demonstrated that I had disproved what had been said about me, and from what others wrote me and what was published in the news papers I learned that England still regarded me as the same Tetrazzini who had won their hearts at Covent Garden in November, 1907.
It
On my most recent tour of America, during the winter of 1920-21, 1 was greeted in the same affec tionate manner by crowds as great or greater than ever. So the steps that I took to counter this little
Envy, Ingratitude and Blackmail
act of hostility were,
281
on the whole, effective. De spite the satisfactory outcome of this incident, I felt very grieved and sad at the proof only one of many which it offered that there were persons in the world desirous of accomplishing my downfall and who would be secretly happy when they heard that it had taken place. This was by no means the first time that persons attempted to benefit from me by an ingenious blackmailing scheme or by adopting some roguish In America it became so common for practice. to try to grossly defraud me that I found persons it necessary always to take two detectives with me when on tour. One of these detectives had a case
requiring his careful investigation immediately after I had engaged his services. I was then stay
ing in a hotel in
package, messenger very carefully secured and registered. I had to sign a form to say that I had received this package. When I opened it I found that it contained what appeared to be two beautiful diamonds. There was nothing else in the box, not even a letter to indicate the name of the sender. Some days later, however, I received a note from a person of whom I had never heard stating that if I wanted to buy these I brilliants we could doubtless come to terms. who remembered a showed the letter to the waiter, similar package arriving at another hotel at which he was once employed. "Excuse me, madame," he said, "but I think you ought to ask your detective to come and see these." With that he went to the
New York. Oine day brought to my room a small
a postal
282
My
Life of
Song
in
telephone and in a few minutes the detective was my room. Taking up the brilliants, he stepped to
the
window and examined them very
carefully.
"False," he exclaimed as he returned them to me. "Do not buy them; send them back. Then we will see what happens. It is an old game, signora, and a very clever one that someone is about to try on you." I sent the brilliants back to the person from whom they came, and then I saw that my detective
was right
in his diagnosis of the situation. By re turn of post there arrived an amazing letter which
stated that instead of sending back the real dia monds that had been sent to me, I had substituted
for them stones which were false. The writei^ de manded $3,000 as the difference between the value of the real and the false. It was as the detective
had suggested, a very
When
clever attempt to rob me. the detective saw the letter he went to find
the writer, who happened to be a milkman anxious to get rich quickly. This milkman, when he found that instead of dealing with me he had to deal with
the police force, immediately changed his tone. Though I did not prosecute him, my detective gave him a bad fright and threatened that if any similar
case occurred in
New York in the future, he would come and arrest him. I think that had the effect of frightening him from the false diamlond busi ness for good and sending him back to his less
dangerous occupation of selling milk.
Another incident somewhat similar followed one
Envy, Ingratitude and Blackmail
of
283
my
visits to Philadelphia.
An unknown com
poser sent me the manuscript of a piece of music which he claimed to have written. The letter which accompanied this composition stated that if I liked the work I could sing it if I chose if not, I could throw the music away. As a public singer I am
;
often receiving complimentary pieces of new music from -unknown composers, and there was no sound reason for my doing other than was suggested in
the letter.
of music, and I first thought of throwing it away. But as I was about to do this I had a sudden feeling that I ought
It
was a very poor piece
to keep both letter and music. very glad that I did so.
Subsequently I
felt
I heard nothing further about this matter until a long time afterward, when one of my many tours of the United States brought me back to Philadel leave for the opera phia. Then, as I was about to of my room rang, and I house, the telephone bell
found myself speaking with a Philadelphia lawyer. This lawyer coolly demanded to know what I pro had been posed to do with the piece of music which
sent
over a year ago by a young man of that If I had not held up this piece of musiccity. worthless this young man, said the it was
me
really
lot of money out of it. lawyer, would have made a The attorney stated that his client now needed to be reimbursed for what he had lost through my sum- he dilatoriness, and if I did not pay him the
demanded, he would come armed with legal power
284
My
Life of
Song
where I was singing
to collect it at the box-office
that night. " All right ; come
" by all means, was my answer. When the lawyer had rung off I sent for one of my detectives and explained what had happened. He intimated that he would be at the box-office that night in readiness for whoever chose to appear. That night, soon after the house had filled, there came to the box-office a rough-looking man who said that he had come at the request of Madame Tetrazzini. As he spoke my detective put his hand on his shoulder and demanded an explanation. "Tell me what you have against Madame Tetraz
zini," he
demanded.
At
this the caller hesitated
and mumbled some
thing quite incoherent, and then tried to break away. But the detective held him tight. "You
must
state
your case before you will be allowed to
go," said the detective. Then the man said he a friend who had written a great work and
sent
it
to
Madame
Tetrazzini for her to see.
had had But
Madame
Tetrazzini, he said, having realized its
great value, had retained it and had not payment for this inestimable privilege.
nmde any
"Come
will fetch
along, then," said the detective, "and we your friend. And I am ready to pay him
' '
what
' '
rightly his when we get him." " I know exclaimed this man. Oh, no, no, no you are a detective. I have been sent here by the
is
!
who washes plates at the hotel.*' Here he named a well-known Philadelphia hostelry. "I
toan
MADAME
TETRAZZINI AND THE GOVERNOR OF CALIFORNIA
FAREWELL TO AMERICA
Envy, Ingratitude and Blackmail
285
am
not the
man you
think I
am and seem
to be
wanting." There is
reason to doubt that this man was the composer and the solicitor in one. The detec tive told him that Madame Tetrazzini still had the piece of music and the letter which accompanied it, and he could have both back if he chose to sign a receipt for them. But this caller did not wait.
little
The
he
had frightened him sufficiently, and a great Imrry. I still retain that piece of music and also the letter, and take both with me on every trip which I make to America and on every tour which embraces the town of Philadel phia. I took it with me on my farewell tour in 1920-21, but I have not since heard of the mysteri ous composer-plate-washer, and do not expect that he will ever approach me again. But it would save me a few unpleasant moments if I were not the
detective
left in
recipient of such unsolicited gifts
from these un
known
persons. All through my life of song I have been receiv and ing by post strange things which I do not want the trouble of open which I would gladly be spared When I was in Rome some time ago I re
ing.
ceived a long poem specially written to honor my name as a singer of renown. But the poem was written in such fervent, florid and dramatic lan
love of poetic guage that instead of appealing to my art it only made me laugh. I have kept it because to my sense of humor every time I it
appeals
glance at
Many
flamboyant opening stanzas. letters that I receive are from men and
its
286
My
Life of
Song
womfcn begging for money.
England I received a letter
who
bitterly
When I was last in from an English colonel complained that he was compelled,
through straitened circumstances, to live in two rooms. Then he proceeded to argue that it was not fitting that a person who held such a high rank should be compelled to live in such mean and un pretentious style. Would I oblige him by sending him some of the large sums I earned with my voice to help him take a house which was worthy of occupation by a colonel in the British Army? I have no time to answer all the begging letters that I receive, but this cool request stirred me to write to this dignified gentleman, pointing out what he might have known if he had given the subject a
moment's consideration, tha,t unfortunately there were friends and acquaintances of mine who were in a worse plight than he and who had, therefore, a prior claim on my bounty. Another remarkable begging letter was handed me when I was about to embark on the Mauretania in October, 1920. It was from an Englishman who wished to obtain 2,000 wherewith to buy a motorbus which he proposed to drive through the streets of London and thereby earn a living for himself.
I did not send him the 2,000 he sought. Though I have paid several visits to Paris and sung there to great and enthusiastic audiences, I
hfive
few happy recollections of the French Press and the French Government. Their style of grati
tude
is
very different from that of other nations.
Envy, Ingratitude and Blackmail
287
This I particularly noted in March., 1919, when I responded gladly to an urgent request to sing in Paris to raise money to help the unfortunate chil dren of Alsace-Lorraine. It was a very grand affair. Besides the Queen of Roumania, Mrs. Wil son, wife of the then American President, Marshals Foch and Joffre. there were present all the big people who had assembled in Paris for the Peace 'Conference. Though I had travelled all the way to Paris to oblige the French, I found there was manifested no great readiness to oblige me. I inti
mated
chestral
to the organizers that in addition to the or accompaniment I should like to have in
the building a piano so that I could sing in English some popular Allied songs to please both British and Aimerican soldiers who would be present in
force.
The answer
to this request
was that there
theatre, and the authorities, could not honor my request. Not a therefore, piano in tlie theatre, indeed! But there were pianos in Paris. It but needed the word from the person in authority and the building could have been choked with pianos in an hour. Yet I had spent out of my own pocket $5,000 in order to come
was no piano in the
there to raise money for this deserving French national charity. So busy were the French people in rearranging their own affairs that I could for
give their want of courtesy over the piano, their f orgetfulness in the matter of flowers and thanks, but I cannot forgive them for the way they treated the journalists representing the newspapers of my
288
My
country.
Life of
Song
own
they applied to
For these Italian Pressmen, when come to my performance, were
rudely informed that they could not be admitted, although the French Press had been invited. When my compatriots told me how the organizers of my concert had treated them I was most indignant. I could not refuse to sing, because the object of the performance was one of the most worthy for which I have ever freely given ray services, and because I was expressly asked to do so by the Italian bassador in Paris. But I determined that my own compatriots should not be kept away from my So I sent out and bought them tickets concert. for the best seats in the house and spent over $2,000 to obtain them. A few days later I gave a reception at the Grand Hotel in Paris, to which I invited, besides my
Am
friends and celebrities, all the English, American and Italian newspaper representatives. I omitted
to send invitations to the
French Press, as I wanted which is reputed to be so to teach this country, polite to strangers, not to mete out such invidious
treatment to
my
compatriots.
As
that reception
was in progress there entered the Italian Ambas sador in Paris, who brought me a telegram he had just received from the Queen-Mother calling mje back to Borne. I had to leave at once. But there was to be another annoyance before I left this coun To save me any unnecessary trouble on the try. way home, my Ambassador sent a telegram to the French frontier instructing the authorities there
Envy, Ingratitude and Blackmail
289
that I must not be disturbed by the customs. This had no effect on the polite French people whom I had come all the way from Italy especially to
When the train reached the frontier, in the middle of a cold night, I was awakened, bundled out of my sleeping compartment, and made to go through the stupid formalities of the passports. When I asked the authorities if they had received the message from my Ambasador, they admitted having received it, but coldly replied that there was no reason why I should be treated any differently from other persons. For which and other reasons I have not a high opinion of French courtesy and
help.
French gratitude.
I arrived in Borne I went to the Foreign Office and preferred a personal complaint to our
When
Foreign Minister, who immediately sent to Paris and protested against the scurvy treatment which
I had received at the French side of the frontier. This protest must have been effectual, for several
days later the French Ambassador in Rome called on me and offered me a gold medal in recognition
But the French news papers afterward announced that they had had a medal specially made in my honor, and I had re
of my services to his nation.
fused to accept it. It will be a long time before I forget the courtesy of the French Government and the French Press.
Another instance of flagrant ingratitude is that of an artist who at the time when he was ill made a most pathetic appeal to me to help him, I paid
290
My
Life of
Song
all his
medical expenses and maintained
Mm and
his family during the long period of his illness. But I have yet to receive his letter of thanks for
the interest I took in
him and his.
I could quote numerous cases in which persons have obtained their ends through enlisting my aid, but who have completely forgotten the elementary phrase "I thank you.' There come times when I
7
feel that it is useless trying to help persons who are so selfish and ungrateful, but then I am com forted by reflection that it does not matter what
their attitude is so long as I
have acted
rightly.
To
am conscious that I here an account of the give
life is farthest from my would readers thank me intentions, nor, perhaps, if I were to narrate the number of times I have sung for charities, the work I have done for hos
philanthropic side of
my
pitals, for
churches
;
in
my native Florence and elsewhere ported by the earnings of my voice.
or if I spoke of the poor folk who are sup
During the war I gladly gave myself to the great work of raising money sorely needed by the Italian Red Cross. At the time the use of private auto mobiles was prohibited by the Government, but in view of the work that I was doing, travelling all
over Italy, singing everywhere to huge crowds, the Government gave me a special permit to use my own car. That historic night when Venice was bombarded from the air, I was in the city of beau tiful waterways singing to a vast audience in one
of the principal theatres.
As I was
singing
we
Envy, Ingratitude and Blackmail
291
could hear the noise of the raiding airplanes abore us. Fortunately, no bombs were dropped in our vicinity, and before I left the Venetians were talk
me as their guardian angel. I vividly remember the night when Trieste was taken by Italian troops. I was singing in. the City of Flowers mv home town. At the end of one of my arias" someone arrived on the platform and Trieste is free!" Of course, such tre shouted, mendous news set my Italian audience afiama They rose in their seats and sang and danced and shouted for joy. I think that night was the only occasion on which I have ever sung in public that the performance has ended before my scheduled time. For this I was mainly responsible. Instead of proceeding with my next song, I said to the
ing of
/
audience,
are all too happy tonight to want to hear rose. Let us all go out into the street and shout for joy at the great victory of our troops." This suggestion was met by an outburst of cheer ing. Then we all hurried forth to join the great
"You
crowds who were already jubilating in the gay
streets of
my
native Florence.
All the expenses
of the concerts at which I sang I paid out of my own pocket, and the proceeds were handed over
intact to the
Eed
Cross.
After that great night at Florence I arranged a concert on a grand scale at Trieste, at which I had the support of the famous baritone, Titta Buffo, and Mancinelli. The proceeds of this evening
amounted
to 400,000
crowns (nearly $100,000).
292
My
Life of
Song
That night there was a great reception given by the admirals of the English, French and Italian war ships which were then in Adriatic waters. One of
the admirals
I will not give him away to his Gov ernmentsaid that he ought to be at Frame that
night, but, despite his Government, he proposed not to leave until after the concert. Nor did he.
I was given a beautiful gold medal, of which there are only four in Italy. The other three are possessed by our beloved QueenMother, Queen Eleanor (our present Queen), and
For
my war work
the Duchess of Aosta (Princess Helen of Orleans). I am very proud of this medal and deeply grateful
that I was able to do something to help in her hour of dire need.
my country
One
incident which occurred in America in
April, 1910, ought to be told here. When I was in Mexico, earning only $180 a performance, a man
named Isadore Lerner came
was
to
to
me and
$500 a night to sing under his
me management. He
offered
;
meet me in Havana on February 25, 1904 but he was not there. Later, Mr. Leahy, the im presario from San Francisco, who has always treated me most fairly, came along and engaged me
to sing at the Tivoli in San Francisco for the season 1904-5. That season was a great success,
and one of the persons who soon realized
this
was
my
up
lost impresario, Lerner, who suddenly turned with a suit for $24,000 for breach of contract.
did not persist in this suit, which I thought had fizzled out but in April, 1910, this man Lerner
;
He
Envy, Ingratitude and Blackmail
293
was
unexpectedly reappeared on my horizon when I in New York. This time he had increased his claim to the colossal sum of $39,000. Now thor oughly alive to the fact that I must be the possessor of a considerable sum of money, he pressed his suit with all the legal force that he couid command. As I was about to leave for England I heard that
this precious impresario
was endeavoring to serve on me attachments which should prevent me and
my
luggage leaving New York. As will be seen from the following headlines, clipped at random
from a few New York newspapers
this little plot of the disappearing
of that time,
and reappear
ing impresario did not succeed:
"TETRAZZINI LOCKED IN CABIN" " FOOLS PROCESS SERVERS AT SAILING" " "TETRAZZINI HID ON 'MAURETANIA' "TETRAZZINI GETS ON 'MAURETANIA' SECRETLY AT NIGHT AND LAUGHS OVER ESCAPE" ^TETRAZZINI IS ARTFUL DODGER"
"MADAME
"
TETRAZZINI MAKES GETAWAY" OUT WITS PROCESS SERVERS"
I did not find
it
a very difficult matter to outwit this egregious impresario. Hearing from my lawyer that the process servers were every where waiting to serve me as I went aboard, I
And so on
!
assumed a serviceable disguise and boarded the Mwretwia by the luggage gang-plank. Once
294
My
Life of
Song
from the
service
safely aboard, I protected myself
by surrounding my stateroom with detectives, who remained there until the very last moment, when it was too late to keep me in the country. The New York American published an amusing " verse, headed Opera Star's A-Sailing," which described this little incident. It ran: cleverly
"Tetrazzini made a getaway on yesterday's Cunard, She beat the process servers by a nose She made the Mauretania, but she made it under
;
guard,
And
safe on board she chortled at her foes."
Not only did I get safely away from, the clutches of that mercenary Lerner man, but I took away with me my trunks, my jewels, and all that I
possessed.
CHAPTER XVIII
MY
LOST FEIESTDS
of my most delightful experiences was the occasion of the visit to Rome of the bands of the Allied Forces in the spring of 1918. When I saw the bands of the English Guards, under Colonel Rogan, as well as the Ameri can, French and other bands, gathering in Rome,
ONE
I thought that here was one opportunity to show
gratitude to England and America for the many honors and kindnesses I had received in those countries, so I gave a reception at the Grand
my
resenting the Allied nations, as well as many mem bers of the Italian Parliament. The bandsmen came too, and, I was assured, enjoyed the afternoon
Hotel in Rbme. There came to this reception the ministers rep
without being subjected to any military restrictions and without being asked to play. We all spent a airs right jolly time together, singing the popular Over of each country not, of course, forgetting There. I sang a number of songs to the accompani ment of popping champagne corks for we have
no dry laws yet in Italy. The bill for this festival came to 45,000 francs (nominally about $9,000), which, when compared with the obvious enjoyment
295
296
My
Life of
Song
bandsmen who had honored me by their presence, was passing cheap. When I last visited London, Colonel Rogan called on me at the Savoy Hotel and presented me with a photographic me mento of the occasion, on Avhich was written:
of all the
souvenir of the visit of the bands of the Brigade of Guards to Italy, and of the happy time spent by them as the guests of the Queen of Songf at the Grand Hotel, Rome." There is one world-famous conductor under whose baton I have never yet sung. I have too
*
"A
name
great an admiration of his genius to publish his at this moment without his permission. Per haps one day I will see him again, and ask him
to allow
name. Let it suffice to say that he is not merely famous in his native Italy, but in North and South America, in England, and in most other countries. Here is the story of my Before Gattitilts with this remarkable genius. Casazza went to New York to take charge of the Metropolitan Opera House he was manager of the famous La Scala at Milan, at which my brotherto give his
me
in-law, Signer C'ampanini, was then the conductor. The time came for a musical festival at Ferrara,
the town of the great tenor Massini, who was the Oaruso of his day. (Massini, by the way, was the great hero of Caruso, who hung a picture of his illustrious forerunner in the most prominent posi Gatti-Casazza heard me tion in his own home.)
sing at this gala performance. At this time- it had been arranged to produce the opera The Magic
My
and
Lost Friends
297
Flute at the world-renowned Milan Opera House,
brother-in-law said to Gatti-Casazza "If you want it to be a success, take Tetrazzini as
:
my
your soprano."
G-atti-Casazza shook
said,
Ms
us.
head.
"Oh, no," he
is
"she will not suit
She
legere.
She
is
a soprano lyrico.
not a soprano I want a real
coloratura."
next encounter with Gatti-Casazza wa& the when I was singing with the Boston Opera Company, at four gala performances. By that time Gatti-Casazza had changed his opinion about myself, for he sent me an urgent request to come to New York to sing with Caruso at six gala performances there. Nothing was ever farther from my thoughts than to cherish for any length of time ill-feeling toward any person. I
occasion
My
wrote to Gatti-Casazza and agreed to his proposal. At that time the great maestro to whom I have referred (but not by name) was conducting at the Metropolitan. After all that had gone before, my decision to appear now at the Metropolitan caused a considerable stir, both in the theatre and outside. Members of the chorus gave me a great welcome. "Hurrah! Tetrazzini has conie to us at last!" they shouted as I appeared for rehearsals. Though the reception which the majority of my own profession gave me was most generous, I soon found that there was one person present who did
not seem to take kindly to my advent. He was none other than the great maestro. His mental
298
My
Life of
Song
to
attitude at that time
was conveyed
me by
a
friend in the chorus, who whispered in my ear the news that the maestro had expressed himself as disliking the task of conducting for artists of the
"
skyrocket, pyrotechnic, or firework brand. To appreciate this attitude it should be under
"
stood that during the singing of the long, unac companied cadenzas of the great arias the conduc tor has to stand, statue-like, with raised baton, waiting to take up the cue with the orchestra. I had always known that some of the superior con ductors considered such a pose to be far beneath
the dignity of persons so exalted as themselves, who oc particularly when conducting for sopranos casionally add notes of their own to the original
I heard that this great maestro had so expressed himself concerning my singing, I went to Gatti-Casazza and asked "Who is the conductor this evening ?" " "He is the maestro replied he, naming the
score.
When
:
conductor
who had
called
me
a skyrocket singer.
"Oh, no," I answered. "I protest against sing me ing to the accompaniment of his baton. Give number two conductor." Gatti-Oasazza did not demur, for he had regret ted opposing me on a previous occasion, and prob ably now felt that it was useless again to object. The scene that night at the Metropolitan was so wonderful that even the management, accustomed as they were to great nights, expressed their amaze ment at the unusual spectacle. To say that the
My
theatre
Lost Friends
299
was crowded would not convey an adequate
scene.
in
All the wealthiest people New York were there in force. They filled the boxes and the orchestra, and extra seats that were placed down the aisles. They overflowed into the corridors, where, without being able to see, they stood to listen. Special police had to be
attendants in handling the swarmed into the famous box in that great audience position that night was
idea
of the
brought in to help the mass of people that theatre. Occupying a was one man whose
peculiar.
He was
not conducting. ance and, to his credit, joined heartily in the public applause. He went farther. After the perform ance was over he came behind the scenes, sought
the chief conductor, but he was Yet he sat through the perform
and congratulated me upon my work and upon the size of the audience. "I have never seen
out,
me
such a house," he declared, speaking with much enthusiasm. Then, with a note of sadness in Ms voice, he exclaimed: "What a shame it is that I did not have the honor of conducting so remark " able a performance on this night of nights. "But you did not want to conduct for me," I "I understand you don't like my sky replied.
rockets." For a moment he looked at
:
me nonplussed, and I
"I know it is inconvenient laughingly proceeded for you to conduct for sopranos who have the habit
of singing very long cadenzas. It makes you nerv ous to hold your hands in the air. And I am the
300
My
Life of
Song
me
last
person to want a maestro to conduct for
against his inclination."
The maestro took my raillery with great good humor and begged my pardon. We shook hands and parted friends, but he has not so far conducted
for me.
One
of the reasons is that
been thrown together by fate, as ing in one country he is usually in another. Not long ago this great maestro came to Borne at the time I was resting at my palace there. He u called on me and said: Signora, I am very, very
we have not when I am sing
angry with you."
"For what
"
reason, maestro? Because you gave a concert in
9'
without calling on
me
to
Milan recently conduct for you."
"I am
declared.
so sorry, dear maestro/* I truthfully
"
Believe me,
it
was not because I would
not gladly have had you there as my conductor. I did not ask you because I was unwilling to haz ard a refusal."
At
that I
this the maestro asked
would not
first
close
my
to promise him career as a prima donna
me
without
singing to his baton,
and I gave him
the promise
which I certainly intend to fulfill. One reason why the illustrious maestro called on me at that time was to induce me to consider the name of a sculptor protege for whom he
wanted the task of designing the great mausoleum for the family Tetrazzini which, at a cost of $200,000, is to
be built in Milan,
It is within this
My
Lost Friends
301
mausoleum that I wish to be buried with the other members of my family.
I have already stated that I am a member of the Roman Catholic Church. It was a source of
great satisfaction to me to find myself in possession of sufficient money, as the result of one of my
tours, to
be able to come to the rescue of a Catholic church at Lugano. The church had been reduced to such financial straits that it had to be aban doned both by priest and congregation. That church, I am glad to reflect, is now thriving and doing useful work in the vicinity where it was once a derelict. In my beautiful home at Lugano I have my own little chapel. It contains an altar on which hang the photographs of my own dear
mother and brother, as well as those of other of iny closest friends. Day and night, many whether I am at home or away, a taper is always burning at the altar. In this way I keep alive the
father,
memory of those dear ones who have meant so much to me during my wandering but happy life
of song.
I have always tried to make friends, and have never deserted a friend, although friends have sometimes deserted me. When I returned to Lon don at the end of the war, I sought out many of
my English friends of pre-war days, only to find, to my enduring grief, that many of them were no more. While my own quarters were being visited
at all hours
regard to
by persons who wished to see me in my profession, I was frequently absent.
302
My
Life of
Song
I wonder if those visitors had an idea where I was on those occasions ? I think not They prob " ably imagined I was doing" the beautiful West End shops or sitting in a box at a matinee. The truth was very different. I was busying myself
!
seeking out the graves of my departed English I think I must have visited all the friends. churchyards and cemeteries in and around London during those first few days of my post-war return to London. When I found the last resting-place
I laid an armful of white blooms on the grass be neath which they slept just to let them know that "Tetrazzini had not forgotten them. It has always been my custom to arrange for a
Mass for the souls of the departed at Lugano on November second of every year. Wherever I am on that day, I know this Mass is being said in the town of my adoption in Italy; and wherever I happen to be it may be America, or England, or some other country I rise early and go to the nearest church, and through the en tire Mass for the souls of the departed. During one of my departed that Mass I mention every friends by name. In the afternoon of the same
special
1
cemetery Catholic or other wise, it matters not which taking with me masses of the choicest flowers I can procure. Then I seek out all the forgotten graves, cind place on each a bunch of the blossoms I have brought. All the time
day I go to the
local
t
doing this I am thinking of the friends I loved who have gone before me. After I have
I
am
My
Lost Friends
303
reverently deposited the flowers on the deserted graves, I proceed to adjust the flower borders and clean the headstones until dusk. This practice seem curious to some, but others who have may friends and cherish their friendship will, I feel
sure,
readily understand. Perhaps one day a friend will show kindly attention to the burial place of Tetrazzini. And if I can see what is
being done, I think I shall feel
for this
little
all
the happier
My
tion to
exhibition of the truest love, fondness for animals, as well as my devo
my friends, has often been commented upon
I have gone through many adven tures, and even got into a number of scrapes with port authorities, in my desire to keep with me one
in the Press.
of
my
particular pets.
One
strange favorite of
mine caused considerable trouble on one occasion, and it was fortunate that the incident ended with out someone's being seriously injured. It was at the conclusion of a South American tour. I had been offered as a pet a more or less tame leopard, which I had accepted and was about to take back with me to Italy. This leopard was in a cage, traveling on the top of a luggage cart which pre
carriage on the way to the boat. But the jolting of this cart opened the door of the cage, and the leopard, more surprised than pleased
ceded
my own
to be at liberty, bounded down the street, scatter ing the terrified pedestrians as he sped on. I
called to
my own
driver to follow
which he
did.
My
frightened pet, hearing
my
carriage clattering
304
My
him and
Life of
Song
women
in the
after
street,
the shrieks of the
dived into a tailor's shop. The astonished tailor threw one glance at his fearsome new cus tomer, and then, thinking he could obtain safety
aloft, swarmed quickly up the little ladider which he was accustomed to use to reach his top shelves. But my leopard did not attempt to follow. He was more interested in preserving his own beauti ful skin than in injuring the almost hysterical He found a dark corner underneath the tailor, counter, into which he entered, trembling and At that moment an armed policeman snarling.
appeared, and from the doorway cautiously sur veyed the interior of the shop. My carriage arriving at the same moment, I jumped out just in time to stop the policeman from shooting my beautiful pet leopard. This was a more difficult task than catching the escaped animal, and I had to hand over a goodly sum as a bribe before the officer of the law would consent to lower his The task of securing the aggressive weapon.
built up barriers of leopard was quite easy. rolls of cloth, and placing the cage near the runaway, we were soon able to induce him. to re turn to his rightful home. After the animal had been removed and the ten-minute sensation had died away, all that was left for me to do was to pay the tailor's bill for the temporary use of his shop and rolls of cloth. As I had recovered my leopard alive, I cheerfully p^id the tailor the very After stiff charge he made for his hospitality.
We
My
he had received
Lost Friends
my check, the tailor naively ex the hope that next time I visited him I pressed would bring a whole menagerie. I had another exciting adventure when travel
ing to Havana. a forest region
As my train was speeding through we ran into a great fire. Hoping
to clear this fire zone, the driver, instead of stop
ping, put on speed. He was unlucky. The heat had so expanded the metals that in one place it was impossible for any train to keep the line.
by the rend ing of the woodwork of my carriage; then more heaving, and a final crash. It was my first railway accident. Feeling that the world had been turned upside down, I scrambled to my feet and led my
There came a violent
jolting, followed
company
though
escaped,
to escape through the window. severely shaken and bruised, we
Then,
found
plenty to do, for, though
we had
many had been
killed, including
providentially some of
the negro porters, and others had been seriously injured. While we were busy helping the injured the brushwood near the line caught fire, and soon the train began to blaze. After the wounded had been freed and tended, I led my party in a suc
cessful effort to salvage our indispensable opera
hose pipe which was carried on the equipment. boil engine was used to direct hot water from the van. Though the hot water ers on to the luggage did not greatly improve some of our equipment, it nevertheless saved it from a much worse fate, and when we were able to resume our perform-
A
306
My
we found
Life of
Song
was
still
ances
that our scalded scenery
serviceable.
As we knew that it would be some time before a rescue train could arrive, the passengers, includ
ing myself and company, trekked to an open space near by, to windward of the fire, and encamped for the night. There we made ourselves as comfort able as possible, but were very glad when, early next miorning, a relief train came along and took
us through to Havana. Though in America inci dents of this nature are taken as a matter of course, I regard that railway adventure as one of
the most unpleasant experiences of
song.
my
life
of
CHAPTEE XIX
ADVICE TO YOUNG SESTGEBS
AU BEVOIR
are the great singers who will take the place of Patti, Melba, Jenny Lind, Tietjens, and those other -prime donne of the glorious past ? Where am I to look for a suc cessor to Tetrazzdni ? For years I have been hoping and searching for even one who will step into my place when in (I
WHERE
retire. So far I have and sought in vain. There are thousands hoped of singers and musicians in the world today, as
hope) the distant future I
Some of these have a large following, hundreds of admirers. They sing well and they play well. In their own countries they draw good audiences, and their performances are ap plauded without stint. But they have all stopped short of being truly great. They are virtuosos, and not geniuses. They have the training without the highest natural gifts. Their reputations are national, and not in Their names are famous in some ternational. parts of the earth, but in other parts they are almost unknown. Yet the names of the passing generation of world stars are known in every
always.
their
civilized
home
of the world.
307
308
My
Life of
Song
Occasionally a new star appears in some corner of the globe. I hear the name mentioned, and I say to myself, "Has the new prima donna actually
arrived?"
tude.
I wait and wonder. And then I dis cover that the new star is not of the first magni
There is no one who would welcome the appear ance of a new international star more heartily and more readily than would I. To me great art is life. That I have been able to give pleasure to vast audiences in all parts of the world for many
years through my gift of song is to me an unend ing joy. Yet I want to see more and more great
appear to lighten this dull age, as her successor, I said to myself, "Though I cannot show you, dear Patti,
stars
When Patti hailed me
how
greatly I value that message of yours, per haps I shall be able one day to do the next best
thing I shall write similarly to someone who appears on my horizon, and so pass on the pleas ure that Patti s message gave to me." I have not yet sent that message, but I am still hoping that before I retire I shall meet and hear a new Patti, a new Jenny Lind, a new Tetrazzini. When I was singing in Spain my hopes rose
?
high. young singer came to me and asked me to hear her voice. I listened and secretly exulted.
A
"Yes, I have found her," I said to myself "the new international prima donna. She is a genius." Her voice climbed to the sky without effort. The timbre and quality, the easy, bird-like trills
Advice to Young Singers
309
were such as are only commanded by the great ones of the earth. But her notes were not quite developed; she could not produce all the volume and beauty of tone without more study, more hard
work, long hours of training, of rigid application,
of self-control
yes, of self-sacrifice.
Not suspecting her real thoughts, I told my young genius what she must do and continue to do if she would be truly great. Her answer left me sad and sorrowful. What she exclaimed. You say I must start training over again? Are you aware, madame,
* *
' ?
' '
!
that I
Here was an undoubted genius, one with the possibilities of an international prima donna, but so self-opinionated and unwilling to be helped by someone qualified
to assist that she took offence at hearing the truth.
am a great artist ?" What could I say in answer?
"Oh, I beg your pardon for my presumption. And she went away. She has, however, returned, and is now acting upon some advice I proffered her.
said,
I bowed and
"
the dearth of great talent is partly due to the fact that there are some who will not undergo
Though
the rigof ous training which is essential for any aspirant to the greatest honors in the realm of
son.
song, there is perhaps another and stronger rea Even supposing there are (rod-given voices
undiscovered, and only waiting to be trained, I am afraid we have no great maestri capable of giving the training. So many teachers are too
310
My
Life of
Song
ready to deceive themselves and their pupils in their methods of training. Their mistakes are
many and
flagrant. They beguile mezzo-sopranos into the belief that they are coloraturas, and some
times indeed are able to add a few notes at the top while taking them away from the bottom. When the modern maestro does produce a singer, the opportunities that are offered her to develop
are, unfortunately, very Prior to the adequate.
few and hopelessly in war there were opera
houses in the capitals and smaller towns of Europe where the budding prirna donna could sing and develop her art. Today the opera houses of the world, and particularly those of Europe, are in a bad way. Nor are the future prospects in Eng land or in the other countries of Europe at all
rosy for the potential star. Ten years will prob ably elapse before the opera houses of the world return to -their pre-war state and become what they were in the old days, nurseries for the new
singers.
Perhaps by that time I
star!
shall
have met
my new
Another question I have often asked myself and been asked by others is: What of the future of coloratura music, the music of tuns and trills and melody, through which I have become known to the world? This music. is no longer being writ ten, singers no longer study it yet people crowd
to hear
it is
it.
We
are told that
dying or dead.
The
of the past, that critics and the people
it is
Advice to Young Singers
that go to opera talk of the
France,
die.
Germany and
is it
Italy.
modern music of But I do not believe
die.
this older style of
For
No, it cannot not natural music, the music of the
music will
birds?
And
do the admirers of the very modern music
really great is this old Italian music? a matter of the frills and trills these It is not
know how
things are easy to write, and they do not make music; they are but the froth on the champagne. It takes a great master to write this music, though it seems so simple in comparison with the modern operatic compositions. The composers of this old
Donizetti and Rossini, for instance wrote especially for the voice as for an instrument; but Richard Strauss certainly did not write for the voice. The day will come, however, when there will be born another Donizetti. Then coloratura music will take a new lease of life. It may be that
school
one or two great coloratura singers
may
first arise
so as to inspire the new Donizetti. Yet he will come, and the world will assuredly welcome his
advent.
Today the young students of singing whose seem to come in the coloratura class try to turn them into some other. Unfortunately, the
voices
majority of such voices are very small in compass, and do not therefore promise a great career. Per haps that is another reason why there are now
practically no students of this style of singing. It is true that the vocal art must be perfect for such music. What I mean is that the defects of
312
My
Life of
Song
a coloratura are more readily apparent; they are not covered, as in the modern opera, with the sound
of the orchestra.
To one who has mastered high
soprano technique, other music is not difficult. Coloratura practice is a kind of gymnastic exer cise which keeps the voice flexible and in perfect
working condition.
Stone people will say that it takes years of study to become a great coloratura artist. Possibly with some, but with others it may not be necessary. voice may be born just right or it may be developed
A
just right. In any case, to have a perfect .colora tura voice is to possess the choicest gift of the
gods.
Therefore,
is
achievement
means arduous worth while. always
if it
effort,
the
is
One
that
objection
now made
to coloratura
it is artificial,
music
it is
not dramatic, that
that the
world now demands in its opera the thing that is like life. I cannot deny that such music is not dramatic in its character. One might say, per haps, that it has light, but no shadow. Yet the melody that reaches the heart can exist in the same opera with dramatic music. Indeed, this is the case in the early Verdi operas. Perhaps the col oratura music of the future will be differently combined and used. I am no prophet indeed, can anyone foresee in these matters? But I will say that this music will return to popularity as surely as springtime and its chorus of singingbirds
must follow every melancholy winter.
of
Many
my
correspondents write to ask
me
to
Advice to Young Singers
313
give them some hints as to how to become a fam ous singer. One day I may write a book on this
In this Life of Song" I have no subject. I counsel to give more than a few hints. space every singer to lose herself in her part, as I invari
"My
ably do when singing. I am the joyous girl in a pretty garden in far-away Italy I am a daughter of Greece, wandering, pensive, in the shade of a noble temple; or I am the wild-hearted French maiden sorrowing for my ungrateful lover. "What ever role I am singing, I actually become that
;
person. reason.
Even then one must temper feeling with Sometimes, when the dramatic situation
demands
sadness, I forget myself to such an extent that sobs choke my throat, tears fill my eyes, and
let her I have to take this happens I hold of myself suddenly. "No, Tetrazzini, what are you doing ? Then my voice clears, say and I am the character again, but the character
my
voice breaks.
The singer must never
self go so far.
' '
When
' ?
' '
;
under the control of Tetrazzini. In studying a new role I am in the habit of practising in front of a mirror in order to get an idea of the effect of a facial expression and to see that it does not take away from the correct posi tion of the mouth.
1
When
singing, always smile slightly.
This
little
smile at once relaxes the lips, allowing them free play for the words which they and the tongue must
form. It also gives the singer a slight sensation of uplift necessary for singing. It is impossible to
314
My
Life of
Song
sing well
when mentally depressed or even phy
sically indisposed. Unless one has complete con trol over the entire vocal apparatus, and unless
one can assume a smile one does not feel, the voice will lack some of its resonant quality, par Be careful not to ticularly in the upper notes. simulate too broad a smile. Too wide a smile often a the white voice. " accompanies what is called This is a voice production where a head resonance alone is employed, without sufficient of the appoggio or enough of the mouth resonance to give the tone a vital quality. This " white voice " should be thoroughly understood, and is one of the many shades of tone a singer can use at times, just as the impressionist uses various unusual colors to
produce certain atmospheric
in the
voice'
7
effects.
For instance,
mad
" scene in Lucia, the use of the white suggests the babbling of the mad woman,
last act of
as the
same voice in the
Traviata or in
the last act of
suggests utter physical exhaustion and the approach of death. AJQ entire
voice production on this colorless line, however, would always lack the brilliancy and the vitality
La Scheme
which inspires enthusiasm.
tions of the
One
of the
white voice" singer is the fact that she usually possesses a perfect diction. The singer's expression must concern itself chiefly with the play of emotion around the eyes,
"
compensa
eyebrows and forehead. The average person has no idea how much expression can be conveyed by the eyebrows and eyelids. A complete emotional
Advice to Young Singers
315
scale can be symbolized thereby. very droop is expressive of fatigue, either phy ing eyebrow
sical or mental.
A
This lowered eyebrow
is
the as
most of the time, particu larly on people past their first youth. As it shows
see about us
pect we
not a favorite expression of actors, and is only employed where the role makes it necessary. Increasing anxiety is depicted by slanting the eyebrows obliquely in a downward line
a lack of interest,
it is
toward the nose.
Concentrated attention draws
the eyebrows together over the bridge of the nose, while furtiveness widens the space again without elevating the eyebrows. In the eyebrows alone
you can depict mockery, every stage of anxiety
or pain, astonishment, ecstacy, terror, suffering, fury and admiration, besides all the subtle tones between. That is one reason why it is necessary to practise before the mirror to see that the cor rect facial expression is present, that the face is not contorted by lines of suffering or by lines of
mirth.
Another thing the young singer must not for
get in making her initial bow before the public is the question of dress. When singing on the plat form or stage, dress as well as you can. Whenever face the public, have at least the assurance
you
that you are looking your very best; that your hang well, fit perfectly, and are of a becom
gowns
ing color.
It is not necessary that they should be be suit gorgeous or expensive, but let them always be just as sumpable ; and for big cities let them
316
My
Life of
Song
tuous as you can afford. At morning concerts in New York, velvets and hand-painted chiffons are considered good form, while in the afternoon handsome silk or satin frocks of a very light color are worn, with hats. If the singer chooses to wear a hat, let her be sure that its shape will not inter
fere with her voice.
A very large hat, for instance,
up
with a wide brim that comes down over the face,
acts as a sort of blanket to the voice, eating
sound and detracting from the beauty of tone which should go forth into the audience. It is also likely to screen the singer's features too much and hide her from view of those sitting in the balconies and galleries. One word on the subject of corsets. There is no reason in the world why a singer should not wear corsets, and if singers have a tendency to grow
singer's stout, a corset is usually a necessity, corset should be well fitted around the hips and.
A
should be extremely loose over the diaphragm. If made in this way it will not interfere in the slight est degree with the breathing. Though every singer must take care of her
health, she need not necessarily
wrap
herself in
cotton-wool and lead a sequestered existence. A)t the same time, one cannot retain a position of emi nence in the domain of song and also indulge in social dissipations. Society must be cut out of
the life of the great singer, for the
demands made
by
it
on time and
vitality
can only be given at a
sacrifice to her art.
Advice to Young Singers
The care of the health is an individual matter what agrees well with one might cause trouble to I eat the plainest food always, and others.
;
naturally, being Italian, I prefer the foods of native land. But simple French or G-erman cook
my
quite as well ; and I allow the tempting pastry, the rich and over-spiced patty, to pass by untouched, consoling myself with fruit and
ery agrees with
me
fresh vegetables. Personally, I never wear a collar, and have hard ened my throat to a considerable extent by always
wearing slightly cut-out gowns in the house; and even when I wear furs I do not have them closely drawn around my neck. Fresh air has been my most potent remedy at all times when I have been
indisposed.
prove helpful to some oi my readers, but they must not regard them as more than hints, for this is not a book on "how to but a summary of the life of a singer. sing, In saying au revoir to my readers, I would also point out that I have no present intention of bring
hints
The foregoing
may
' J
career to an early close. Far from it. voice today has only just attained complete matur I hope to use it for the enjoyment of my ity.
ing
my
My
years to come. True, I have just completed my farewell tour of the United States of America but that is only because
fellow-creatures for
m&ny
;
America is so far away from my beloved Italy, and I can only reach it "after an invariably un
pleasant sea voyage.
I shall
still visit
England,
318
My
Life of
Song
And
I trust
which I love
so well,
every year.
my
voice will "be heard there and in other capitals of Europe for many a year to come; perhaps in
America once more.
I do not close this narrative on the sad note of farewell, for I am expecting often to meet every one of my readers in what, I trust, will be the happy future for us all. It may be that our meet
ing will be in some grand hall of song in London or in Brighton, in Liverpool or in Edinburgh, in New York, or in Paris or in Eome. No matter
where
I shall certainly see you all again and again. You will hear my voice and clap your hands with joy, as you have so often done during those many pleasant hours of the years that have gone. And I, too, shall hear your voice the stirring
it be,
music of a delighted throng and I, too, shall clap my hands and rejoice, as I have so often done dur
ing
my
glorious life of song.
INDEX
ALSACE-LORRAINE, concert on behalf of children of, 287, 288
America, audiences of, 137 American Press and Tetrazzini, 243,
244, 245, 246, 247, 248, 249, 250, 272, 273, 275, 293, 294 Argentina, curious departure from,
Carlton Hotel, meeting of Tetrazzini and Patti at, 232-5
Carpi, Signor, 197
110-16
romantic experience in, 121-28 tour through, 88 et seq. Ave Maria, Gounod's, 94
Caruso, and Massini, 296 and Press, 27 as Rudolfo, in London, 180 in New York, 240, 241, 242 Tetrazzini sings with, at Petrograd,
128, 136
Casazza, Gatti-, Tetrazzini and. 240,
241, 296, 297, 298 Cavalleria Rusticandj 96
Conreid,
Heinrich,
and
Tetrazzini,
"BABNTTM Method, The," 137
Battistini, Tetrazzini 132, 134
256
and, 128, 131,
Covent
Garden
Theatre,
Caruso
at,
Begging
287
letters,
Tetrazzini and, 285,
179, 180 invitation to, 175
Melba
3
Blackmail, attempt at, in New York, 281-3 ; at Philadelphia, 283, 284-5 Borgatti, as member of Tetrazzini s company, 98
J
at, 180 on gala night, 185
Patti s visit to Tetrazzini at, 223 Tetrazzini and, 175 et seq., 223 et
seq.
Wagnerian operas
Crispi,
Boston, Tetraazini at, 297 Brazil, tour in, 112-16
Donna Lina,
at, 178, 67, 68
179
Buenos Aires, appreciation
of,
81 Daily Graphic and Tetrazzini, 190 Daily Mail on Tetrazzini s debut, 190, 230, 231
}
curious departure from, 110-16 invitation to, 76 performances at, 80-4 voyage to, 77-9
Buffalo, Tetrazzini at, 274 Bull-fighting in Mexico, 166, 167, 168
Daily News on Tetrazzini s debut, 200 Daily Telegraph on Tetrazzini, 229 Daniels, Mr., and Tetrazzini, 22
J
Das Mhemgold,
CALIFORNIA,
in London, 179
tenors, 242 Campanini, Signor, at La Scala, Milan, 296 introduces Tetrazzini to Mr. Higgins, 175 marries Eva Tetrazzini, 175
nor" Calve", Madame, on
Tetrazzini of, 23
as
"Gover
Delibes, Lafcme by, 47, 48
Diaz, Carmen, 141 Diaz, President, Tetrazzini and, 140, 156
Die Walkure, 180 Dvnorahj 163 changed to The Pardon of the Vir gin, 166
321
322
Index
Health, hints on, 316, 317 Higgins, Mr., and Tetrazzini, 175, 176,
180, 181, 182, 186, 188, 204, 217
Dippel, Mr., Tetrazzini and, 245, 246, Donizetti, as composer for voice, 311 Lucia di Lamniermoor, 81
The Daughter of
45, 47
the Regiment, by,
11 Trovatore, at Venice, 260-1
ENGLAND, audiences of, 136 failure of Opera in, 178 popularity of Wagneriau school
178
Expression, hints on, 314
Impresario, a Mexican, 155, 156, 157 Tetrazzini as, 86 et seq.
in,
Inez, at
Rome, 66
et seq.
Tetrazzini 's debut as, 45, 55 Isolde, Tetrazzini as, 71
Italian
Bed
Cross,
Tetrazzini
and,
71-75.
290, 291
Faust, 169
Florence, appreciation of, 63
Italy,
Queen
of,
and Totrazzini,
in,
131 treatment of singers
259
childhood at, 18, 19, 23, 24, 25 d^but at, 12, 51-56 family scene at, 13 masked ball at, 21, 22 school life at, 28 et seq., 42, 43
JEALOUSY, professional, 129-34. 277, 278
Journalists of New York, 189, 206, 211, 243-246 Patti and, 188 Tetrazzini and, 152, 153, 188, 189,
199, 206, 211, 243-6, 250, 251
Florence Opera House, debut at, 51 139 "Florentine Nightingale,
J '
Foch, Marshal, 287
Forged
tickets in Mexico, 160, 161
the,
"Four Hundred,''
287, 289
240
and,
French Government,
Tetrazzini
French Press and Tetrazzini, 287, 288
Kansas City Star on Tetrazzini, 256
GARDEN, Mary, and Tetrazzini, 240
Gilda, Tetrazzini as, 132-3
L'Africana, Meyerbeer's, at Bonie, 66
et seq.
Gounod, Ave Maria, 94 Grisi, 176
Guards' band at Borne, 295
Gye, Mr,, and musical
critics,
Totrazzini 7 s parts in, 45, 50, 66
189
La La La
Bolicme, 180, 314
Giocondc,
first
attempt
of, 32, 33
Seala, Milan, Casazza at, 296
first
LakmS,
production of, 47
Tetrazzini and, 47, 48
HAMMERSTEIN, ARTHUR, 245
Hammerstein, Oscar, American tour of, 264
death of, 254
Leahy, 292, 293 Leeds, Tetrazzini death at, 11
learns
of
Patti
7
s
Leopard, adventure with
a, 303,
304
London Opera House and,
238, 239
Tetrazzini and, 216, 237 et seq, Harrold, Orville, 244 Havana, railway accident on the to, 305
Lerner, Isadore, Tetrazzini and, 292, 293
Las Huguenots, 98, 129
way
Libro Sacro, by Pinsuti, 94 Lind, Jenny, 176, 307
Index
Jenny, in The Daughter of the Regiment, 45 Locust, Tetrazzini's fear of, 101
[Lind,
323
New
York,
Metropolitan Opera House, Caruso at, 239, 240, 242 Casazza at, 296
London, appreciation of, 62 call to, 172 et seq. Caruso in, 180 concert in, 280 debut in Barber of Seville, engagement for, 175, 176 first performance in, 197
curious incident at, 296-300 Tetrazzini and, 239 et seq., 257
at,
163
Mexico, graft and trickery 161 Tetrazzini in, 136 et seq.
in, '
160, '
Meyerbeer,
L 'Africana
by, 45
Press of, and Tetrazzini, 179, 199 Tetrazzini and cemeteries of, 302
Tetrazzini's recejption in, 85,
197,
The Prophet by, 98 Milan, proposed mausoleum
Seeress of, 192
at,
300
Montevideo, Tetrazzini
at,
98
228
Wagnerian Opera in, 178, 179 London Opera House, Hammerstein
and, 251, 252 Tetrazzini 's losses
in,
Morelia, Tetrazzini at, 162-5 Music, Coloratura, future of, 310. 311,
312
251
Lucca, 176
Lucia di LammermGor, 163, 275, 314
81,
94,
144,
"NEW
New
Patti, The," 221, 230, 233
139,
199.
204,
Lugano,
special Mass for departed friends of, 302 Tetrazzini's Chapel at, 301
York, appreciation
281-3
as
of, 62,
257
blackmail in, first visit to,
prima donna, 237
of,
Lusitania, 80
"Four Hundred"
second visit
Nilsson, 176
to,
240
seq.
Italian admirers in, 258
257 et
MADRID, Opera House at, Eva Tetraz zini appointed to, 31 Malibran, 176
Maneinelli, at Trieste, 291
OPERA, Tetrazzini family and, 48, 49
Otello,
Manhattan Opera House, Tetrazzini
at, 238, 239, 242,
257 et seq.
by Verdi, popularity of, 47 the Tetrazzinis and, 35-40
Margherita,
Queen,
and
Tetrazzini,
71-75, 131, 288, 292
Massini, Caruso and, 296 Tetrazzini and. 128, 131, 132, 133,
PALMISTRY, Tetrazzini and, 192
Panizza, 197
Signor,
at
Covent Garden,
134
Mauretania, voyages 294
M!aximilian,
in, 80, 114, 286,
Emperor,
of,
Memorial
242,
Paris, concert at, 287 indifferent treatment at, 287, 288 reception at Grand Hotel, 288
Patti, as
Chapel
264
169
"Queen of Song,"
12, 14,
McCormack, John, America and,
Press and, 27, 264 Tetrazzini and, 242, 264
308
congratulates Tetrazzini, 232 death of, 11 debut of, at Covent Garden, 199 in Mexico, 138 in South America, 174 influence of, on Tetrazzini, 12, 14
Mefistofele, Margherita's song from, sung "by Tetrazzini aged ten, 33
13,
Melba, at Covent Garden, 180
324
Patti, journalists and, 188, 189 letter from, to Tetrazzini, 234 London and, 137, 219
Index
Buffo, Titta, at Trieste, 291 Russia, first visit to, 128-135
Tetrazzini and, 12, 223, 308 Pena, Saenz, President of Argentina, favorite opera of, 80, 81 death of, 81 Tetrazzini and, 81, 82, 102-109
SACRAMENTO, appreciation
Salta, Tetrazzini at, 89-92
of, 62
Pershing, General, 253
Petrograd, appreciation of, 62 Tetrazzini at, 128-135
Philadelphia, 269, 283, 284-6 Pinsuti, Li'bro Sacro, 94
Salto Orientale, Tetrazzini at, 99 Sammarco, American tour of, 264 as member of Tetrazzini J s company, ' 92 at Co vent Garden, 98
San Francisco, appreciation
of.
62.
Pittsburgh, 265 " " 272 Polonaise,
President W$lson, concert on, 280
wireless message received on, 278, 279, 280
209, 252 et seq. arrival of Tetrazzini at, 251 open-air concert at, 252 season at The Tivoli at, 292, 293
San Francisco Argonaut on
zini-Hammerstein 250
Press agent, 189, 190
Press, Tetrazzini and, 57, 58.
Tetraz247quarrel.
(See
American and French)
57,
58
at,
Puebla, unpleasant experience 145
144,
Santa Teresa, Tetrazzini at, 118 Seeress of Milan, the, 192 Selika, failure of soloist as, at Borne, 67 Tetrazzini as, 45
Sontag, 176 Spain, Tetrazzini and young singer 308, 309
Strauss, Bichard, as composer, 311
in,
QITERETARQ, 169
strange
experiences
at,
Eigoletto, 131-134
Bio de Janeiro, revolution experience
at,
117, 118
TAFT, President, Tetrazzini and, 46, 47, 266-7, 270, 271, 272, 273, 274
Bogan, Colonel, and Tetrazzini, 295 in Borne, 296
Borne, Allied
first
Talking machine records, 217
215,
216,
Bands
at,
296
at,
command performance
incident
Tamagno, as Edgardo, 98
71
appearance at, 65-71 with French Ambassador at, 289 receipt of a poem at, 285 reception at Grand Hotel, 295 Bosario, Tetrazzini at, 95
Bossini, as composer for voice, 311 William Tell, by, 98
-
Telephone concert, 275, 276 Tetrazzini, Elvera, 13
and Verdi's
Otello,
35
Tetrazzini, Eva, 13
and Verdi's Otello, 34, 35 appointed to Boyal Opera House, Madrid, 31 marries Signer Campanini, 175
Press Tetrazzini, Luisa, American and, 245-8, 250-1, 265, 272 and death of Patti, 11
Boumania, Queen
287
of, at
Paris concert,
at,
Boyal Albert Hall, LaJsmS
47
and Verdi >s
et seq.
privileged seat-holders of, 153 Sunday afternoon concert at, 280
Otello, 33-40 as diva-impresario*, 86 et teg., 158
Index
Tetrazzini,
325
as Governor of California, 23 as
Tetrazzini, loses sight, 17 losses in London Opera House, 251
Boman Catholic, 301, 302 at Borne, 65, 72-77, 295
at
love of animals, 302 lunches with Patti, 231-233
San Francisco, 252
et seq.
Manhattan Opera House and,
239, 242, 257
238,
at Trieste, 291-3 at Venice, 259-62
Mary Garden
in
and, 240
attempted
281-6
blackmail
America,
ball,
meets Verdi, 39, 40
awarded prize at masked
Casazza and, 241
21
method of practising, 313, 314 Metropolitan Opera House and,
239 et
seq.,
257
et seq.
childhood of, 19, 20, 24, 25, 26 congratulated by Patti, 231, 232
consults Milan seeress, 129
Mexican experiences, 136 Mr. Daniels and, 22
Covent 217
curious
Garden
contract,
175-182,
departure
from
Buenos
Aires, 112-117
music publishers and, 212 musical evenings at home of, 45 musical studies of, 30, 31 nervousness of, in London, 191
debut as Inez, 45 debut of, 12, 50-58, 71, 72
earnings of, 217, 241
3, 73, 76,
110, 175, 181,
on Covent Garden Theatre, 184, 185 on dress and food, 315, 316, 317 on influence of music, 222
on the President Wilson, 280 Paris concert and, 287, 288
parts in L'Afticana, 36, 41-57,
et seq.
.66
experience with Mexican impresario, 155, 156
father's death, 18 first attempt to sing, 13
first -salary of,
64
Patti and, 12, 223, 308 phenomenal note of, 69, 70
French Government and, 287, 289 French Press and, 287, 288 Hammerstein and, 216, 326 et seq.
life at Florence, 13-17 in air-raid at Venice, 290 in Liwia di Lammermoor, 81, 144, 163, 275, 314
phonograph records and, 215, 216,
268
212 photographers and, 11 Polonaise" and President Taft, 272
President
home
94,
Taft and, 46, 47, 274 267, 270, 271, 272, 273,
26,
influence of
invited to
Italian
Opera on, 48, 49 Buenos Aires, 76
130-135 professional jealousy and, Margherita and, 71-75 Queen
Bed Cross and, 290, 291 John McCormack and, 242, 264
journalists and, 152, 188, 189, 243246, 250, 251, 252, 253 King and Queen of Italy and, 71-75
railway accident to, 305
288 reception at Grand Hotel, Paris, reception at Grand Hotel, Borne,
295
revolution
experience
at Rio,
117,
Lakme
118
and, 47, 48, last tour in U. S. A., 22, 283, 317 Lerner and, 292, 293
letter
romance of Amato and, 126
Russian experiences school life of, 27 et
of,
128-135
from Patti to, 234, 235 London's call and reception, 172
seq., 42,
43
et
strange correspondence of, 286 success of, 100
326
Tetrazzini,
Index
Tule, Big Tree at, 171, 172
Tamagno and, 96, 97 telephone concert of, 275, 276 The Daughter of the Regiment and,
45'
tour through Argentina, 88 et seq. Uruguay, experiences in, 119
voice of, 197 et seq.
UNITED STATES,
317
last tour in, 22, 283.
Uruguay, Tetrazzini
in,
119
voyage to Buenos Aires, 77-79 Woodrow Wilson and, 274
young singers and, 307 et seq. The Barber of .Seville, 130, 163 banned at Morelia, 163-6 The Daughter of the Regiment, 45 Jenny Lind and, 45
Tetrazzini and, 45, 271
at, 259, 262 Tetrazzini in air-raid at, 290 Verdi as composer, 312
VENICE, curious incident
Tetrazzini and Otello by, 34-40 Tetrazzini meets, 39, 40
The Magic Flute, 296
"The New Conquest
1 '
of Mexico/' 139 The Pardon of the Virgin, 166 The Prophet, by Meyerbeer, 98 Theatre Luisa Tetrazzini, 95, 96
' '
Victor Talking Machine Co., 216, 217 Violetta, Tetrazzini as, 163, 177, 201203, 225, 234, 265
Tietjens, 176, 307
Traviata, 163, 176, 314
first first
in London, 178, 179 Tristan und Isolde, 71, 75 Washington, Tetrazzini at, 46, 270
WAGNER
performance
of, in
London, 196
William
Tell,
by Rossini, 98
,
rehearsal for, in London, 184.
190
in
Wilson, Mrs. Woodrow, at Paris Con cert, 274, 287 Wilson,
President
New
York, 257
Isolde,
Woodrow
and
Trieste, Tetrazzini at, 291
Tetrazzini, 274
Tristan
und
Comjtnand
at, 91-5
per*
formanco
of, at Borne, 71, 75
Tucuman, Tetrazzini
YOUNG
singers, advice to, 307 et seq.
THE FERGUSON PRESS PHILADELPHIA
USA
1NTERLAKEN-BOUND
1
04 632
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Tetrazzini, Luisa
biography
tetrazzini
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