Article on the demanding lives of prima donnas

“A very interesting article on the prima donna graces the pages of a recent number of the Pall Mall Gazette. [The remainder of the article quotes this publication:] ‘An American gentleman,’ says that journal, ‘who having first thought of bringing up his son as a carpenter, afterward determined to apprentice him to Hiram Powers, the sculptor, on the ground that “sculpting” seemed a more profitable trade, would, doubtless, if he had been blessed with daughters, have educated the young ladies as prima donnas. It is a brilliant profession. But then it is not every young lady who can sing; and to be thoroughly successful a prima donna should possess a variety of gifts and acquirements in addition to perfect vocalization. She ought to be personally interesting; and the enthusiasm of an audience will be more easily rouse if to her artistic accomplishments she unites great personal beauty. Of course she must be an excellent actress; and it is absolutely necessary that she should exhibit the most correct and refined taste in the matter of costume. All the qualities which Benedick [name not capitalized as the others] deemed indispensable in a wife should belong, or seem to be long, to her; and to enjoy European favor, she must have several languages at her command. Italian, if not the first, should be the second language of every prima donna; and the most successful of contemporary prima donnas have, like Malibran, the most striking type of the class, possessed a complete mastery of several tongues. Perhaps the gift of language and the gift of song go to a certain extent together. At any rate several examples could be cited—two brilliant ones at the present time and close at hand—in which the highest faculty for ordinary speech are combined. When the time comes for studying the prima donna scientifically, it will be interesting and important to note the origin of the great prima donnas, who, during the past and present century, have from time to time enchanted Europe. They have, for the most part, displayed aristocratic qualities; they have been received into the aristocratic class, and, in many cases, (Sontag, Cruvelli, Alboni, Patti,) have ended by forming part of it. But none of them have been of aristocratic birth; and what is far more remarkable is the fact that to very few does musical talent seem to have come by inheritance. Certainly not one has inherited her high artistic qualities from her immediate progenitors. The public have but little idea of the indomitable energy that a great prima donna should possess, called upon as she is during the season (and with a great prima donna changing perpetually from capital to capital it is always and everywhere the season) to take part in morning rehearsals, afternoon concerts, evening representations, and often private concerts when the operatic representations are at an end; nor of the knowledge of society of various kinds and countries which a prima donna of the highest class cannot, with such a varied life, fail to acquire. She ends by knowing something of the artistic, literary, and fashionable society of every capital in Europe, and has been on speaking as well as singing terms with the members of all the principal Courts. The cosmopolitanism of the really absolute prime donne assolute is one of the most remarkable things about them. Of the thousands of cantatrice who dream of competing, of the hundreds who actually compete for the highest honors in the profession, of the dozen who are very near attaining those honors, there are scarcely more than two or three—certainly not half a dozen—by whom they are really gained; and from those fortunate few a certificate of nationality is the last thing that would be demanded. They may come from the United States or from Sweden, from Hamburg, Prague, or Pesth; the one thing necessary is that, possessing the rare qualifications we have spoken of, they shall sing habitually in the Italian language. They are more than cosmopolitan; for, instead of being citizens of the world—that is to say, of no city in particular—they are citizens of each city at which they happen to be engaged. Mme. Patti, independently of her operatic performances in Italian, sings ‘Home, Sweet Home’ in London, ‘Solovei’ in St. Petersburg, ‘Si vous n’avez rien à me dire’ in Paris. Mlle. Nilsson, without counting her Swedish melodies, sings operatic music in Italian at Covent Garden, operatic music in French at the Académie of Paris, oratorio music in English at English festivals. Prima donnas do certainly receive immense salaries; ries; [sic] but it must not be forgotten that their expenses—above all, traveling expenses and outlay for dress—are very great. They are for the most part charitable even to excess. They are surrounded at the theatre by attendants of all kinds who expect money for the most trifling services; their addresses are known to all the beginning-letter writers; and when one of the principal mendicants of the metropolis fell, not long since, into the hands of the Police, it is a fact that the name of a celebrated German prima donna was found at the top of his list of probable benefactors. Then think of the number of occasions on which prima donnas are asked to sing gratuitously, and in many cases actually consent to do so. ‘It is so little trouble for her to sing,’ it is argued. But it is still less trouble for a millionaire to write a check, in spite of which he is rarely so ready with a check for a large amount as the prima donna of high repute is with her easily convertible notes. Nevertheless, after making due allowances for the prima donna’s inevitable expenditure, the fact remains that she is exceedingly well paid. Indeed, no one among women receives a larger income, apart from property, except she be an Empress or a Queen. There is this difference, however, that the income of the sovereign (barring revolutions) is for life, while that of the prima donna is only for the life of her voice; which, however, in the case of a happily constituted prima donna may fairly be reckoned at twenty-five years, say from seventeen to forty-two. Among men, no Minister of State is so highly paid as Mme. Patti was last Winter at St. Petersburg. The salary of a first-rate prima donna is about equal to that of an ambassador, (say £12,000 a year,) and she retains the right, denied to the unfortunate ambassador, of receiving presents. Indeed, those who judge of the worth of others by what they conceive to be their own personal value, are often shocked to find that our most popular prima donnas are so munificently paid. It is clear, moreover, that a priest, a professor, a judge, do exercise much more important social functions than the greatest of prima donnas; only being less rare, and their services being less eagerly sought after by the rich multitude, they received more slender remuneration. For it is not, of course, the rarity alone; it is the rarity combined with rare excellence of the prima donna in which her attractiveness lies. Any lusus naturæ is rare. But nature is not in a freakish mood, she is in a smiling mood when she creates the perfect prima donna, who may well be called surrisus naturæ. When it was stated some years ago in the Court of Bankruptcy what amount of salary was paid to a celebrated first soprano at the Royal Italian Opera, the learned Commissioner exclaimed that that was ‘twice the salary of a puisno [sic] Judge;’ and nearly a century before that the Empress Catherine, when she heard what terms La Gabrielle required, is said to have replied that ‘that was more than she gave to any one of her Marshals.’ Thereupon, as the story goes, Gabrielle recommended the Empress to get her Marshals to sing; and probably a Russian Field-Marshal of the last century would have cut as queer a figure on the operatic stage as an English Judge might be expected to do in the present day. The truth is the prima donna, though largely, and often profoundly adored, has not yet been sufficiently studied—certainly not in that calm spirit of investigation which it is necessary, but very difficult, to bring to the contemplation of so charming a subject. From star-worship to astronomy would be a great step, but if the nature of the operatic star were thoroughly understood, its distinctive attributes would be found, we are sure, to be even of a higher kind than passing devotees usually imagine.’”