Page:A Dictionary of Music and Musicians vol 3.djvu/520

508 together for many years, and were united by such strong ties of friendship, and such absence of anything in the shape of artistic jealousy, that the perfection of the ensemble was at once their own delight and that of their admirers. A very fine contralto, Marietta Brambilla, sang about the same time. Grisi had considerable versatility, singing Norma, Lucrezia Borgia, Ninetta (in La Gazza ladra), Norina (in Don Pasquale), Elvira (in I Puritani), all well. Contemporary with Grisi was Persiani, a very charming singer and actress, in spite of a not very pleasing voice and a somewhat plain exterior. She could not take such parts as Norma or Anna Bolena with effect, but she sang with unaffected pathos, and executed florid music very perfectly. After Grisi and Persiani, Bosio and Piccolomini held a high place in the artistic world, and Sontag, a graceful and captivating singer, reappeared after some years' retirement. Another great example of the victory of Art over Nature was Malibran's sister Pauline (Viardot), a woman of great genius with a defective voice, who became a worthy representative of the great Garcia family. At the time of the foundation of the second Opera House, Covent Garden, to which Grisi and Mario, and Costa as conductor, transferred their services, there appeared a star of great magnitude, of whom so much had been heard as might have endangered a first appearance. Perhaps, however, no success was ever more complete than that of Jenny Lind (Madame Goldschmidt). Her special characters during her career in London were Alice (Roberto il Diavolo), Maria (La Figlia del reggimento), Amina, Lucia, Susanna, and similar parts, in which the softer attributes of the female character predominate. And even in those parts which were not her greatest successes she always did something better than it had been done before. In Norma the cavatina 'Casta Diva' was sung by her with infinite pathos and grace. There was a slight veil upon the middle and lower part of the voice, but it was only sufficient to give it substance. Her Alice was an impersonation of the highest order. Seen from a proscenium box at a distance of only a couple of yards in the old Her Majesty's Theatre, every look and gesture was reality. The scene by the cross was one not to be easily forgotten. The Bertram was the famous German bass, Staudigl, who with very little help in the way of stage paint, etc., contrived to give his usually good-natured face an expression of stony fiendishness that was actually appalling. With little gesticulation he seemed really to have the power of magnetising with his glance. Jenny Lind had a great faculty of working up to a climax with a minimum of apparent effort, and a maximum of effect. Her execution was most perfect, and her high notes rich and clear. In the Figlia del Reggimento she gave a sudden display of brilliant florid singing that was truly marvellous. In the scene in which the aunt is giving Maria a singing-lesson on an antiquated tune, bored to death, and with her mind wandering to the scenes of her former life, she broke forth into a veritable flood of vocalisation; roulades, quickly reiterated notes, trills, etc., in such rapid succession and for such a length of time, that it was difficult to imagine where the strength came from. It was quite a stroke of genius, the more unexpected as occurring in one of Donizetti's inferior operas. Jenny Lind was also a great oratorio singer. [For her other great operatic successes see vol. ii. p. 141.] Some cadences of Mlle. Lind's own, given here, are examples of her powers of vocalisation. They were not sung as mere passages of agility, but to their absolute perfection of execution was added an expressive significance which this wonderful artist knew so well how to throw into everything she sang. Two more examples will be found in the article above mentioned.