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Early Journal Content on JSTOR, Free to Anyone in the World This article is one of nearly 500,000 scholarly works digitized and made freely available to everyone in the world by JSTOR. Known as the Early Journal Content, this set of works include research articles, news, letters, and other writings published in more than 200 of the oldest leading academic journals. The works date from the mid-seventeenth to the early twentieth centuries. We encourage people to read and share the Early Journal Content openly and to tell others that this resource exists. People may post this content online or redistribute in any way for non-commercial purposes. Read more about Early Journal Content at http://about.jstor.org/participate-jstor/individuals/early- journal-content. JSTOR is a digital library of academic journals, books, and primary source objects. JSTOR helps people discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content through a powerful research and teaching platform, and preserves this content for future generations. JSTOR is part of ITHAKA, a not-for-profit organization that also includes Ithaka S+R and Portico. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected]. DE SENECTUTE CANTORUM By CARL VAN VECHTEN "T AM not sure," writes Arthur Symons in his admirable essay on Sarah Bernhardt, "that the best moment to study an artist is not the moment of what is called decadence. The first energy of inspiration is gone; what remains is the method, the mechanism, and it is that which alone one can study, as one can study the mechanism of the body, not the principle of life itself. What is done mechanically, after the heat of the blood has cooled, and the divine accidents have ceased to happen, is precisely all that was consciously skillful in the performanceof an art. To see all this mechanism left bare, as the form of a skeleton is left bare when age thins 'the flesh upon it, is to learn more easily all that is to be learnt of structure, the art which not art but nature has hitherto concealed with its merciful covering." Mr. Symons, of course, had an actress in mind, but his argument can be applied to singers as well, although it is safest to rememberthat much of the true beauty of the human voice inevitably departs with the youth of its owner. Still, style in singing is not noticeably affectedby age and an artist who possesses or who has acquired this quality very often can afford to make lewd gestures at Father Time. If good singing depended upon a full and sensuous tone such artists as Ronconi, Victor Maurel, Max Heinrich, Ludwig Wiillner, and Maurice Renaud would never have had any careers at all. It is obvious that any true estimate of their contribution to the lyric stage would put the chief emphasis on style, and this is usually the explanation for extended success on the opera or concert stage (as it explainsSarah Bernhardt's success in the drama) although occasionally an ex- traordinary and exceptional singer (I am thinking of Mme. Melba) may continue to give pleasure to her auditors, despite the fact that she has left middle age behind her, by the mere lovely quality of the tone she produces. In the history of opera there may be found the names of many singers who have maintained their popularity and, indeed, a good deal of their art, long past fifty, and there is recorded at least one instance in which a singer, after a long absence from the 604 De Senectute Cantorum 605 theatre, returned to the scene of her earlier triumphs with her powers unimpaired, even augmented. I refer, of course, to Hen- rietta Sontag, born in 1805, who retired from the stage of the King's Theatre in London in 1830 in her twenty-fifth year and who returned twenty years later in 1849. She had, in the mean- time, become the Countess Rossi, but although she had abandoned the stage her reappearance proved that she had not remained idle during her period of retirement. For she was one of those artists in whom early "inspiration" counted for little and "method" for much. She was, indeed, a mistress of style. She came back to the public in Linda di Chaminoux and H. F. Chorley ("Thirty Years Musical Recollections") describes the occasion thus: All went wondrously well. No magic could restore to her voice an upper note or two which Time had taken; but the skill, grace, and precision with which she turned to account every atom of power she still possessed-the incomparable steadiness with which she wrought out her composer's intentions-she carried through the part, from first to last, without the slightest failure, or sign of weariness-seemed a triumph. She was greeted-as she deserved to be-as a beloved old friend come home again, in the late sunnier days. But it was not at the moment of Madame Sontag's reappearance that we could advert to all the difficulty which added to the honor of its success. She came back under musical conditions entirely changed since she left the stage-to an orchestra far stronger than that which had supported her voice when it was younger; and to a new world of operas. Into this she ventured with an intrepid industry not to be overpraised-with every new part enhancing the respect of every real lover of music. During the short period of these new performances at Her Majesty's Theatre, which was not equivalent to two complete Opera seasons, not merely did Madame Sontag go through the range of her old characters-Susanna, Rosina, Desdemona, Donna Anna, and the like-but she presented herself in seven or eight operas which had not existed when she left the stage-Bellini's Sonnambula, Donizetti's Linda, La Figlia del Reggimento, Don Pasquale; Le Tre Nozze, of Signor Alary, La Tempesta, by M. Halevy-the last two works involving what the French call 'creation', otherwise the production of a part never before represented. In one of the favourite characters of her predecessor, the elder artist beat the younger one hollow. This was as Maria, in Donizetti's La Figlia, which Mlle. Lind may be said to have brought to England, and considered as her special property. ......... With myself, the real value of Madame Sontag grew, night after night-as her variety, her conscientious steadiness, and her adroit use of diminished powers were thus mercilessly tested. In one respect, compared with every one who had been in my time, she was alone, in right, perhaps, of the studies of her early days-as a singer of Mozart's music. It was after these last London seasons that Mme. Sontag undertook an American tour. She died in Mexico. 606 The Musical Quarterly The great Mme. Pasta's ill-advised return to the stage in 1850 (when she made two belated appearances in London) is matter for sadder comment. Chorley, indeed, is at his best when he writes of it, his pen dipped in tears, for none had ad- mired this artist in her prime more passionately than he. Here was a particularly good opportunity to study the bare skeleton of interpretative art; the result is one of the most striking passages in all literature: Her voice, which at its best had required ceaseless watching and practice, had been long ago given up by her. Its state of utter ruin on the night in question passes description. She had been neglected by those who, at least, should have presented her person to the best advantage admitted by Time. Her queenly robes (she was to sing some scenes from Anna Bolena) in nowise suited or disguisedher figure. Her hair-dresserhad done some tremendous thing or other with her head-or rather had left everything undone. A more painful and dis- astrous spectacle could hardly be looked on. There were artists present, who had then, for the first time, to derive some impressionof a renowned artist-perhaps, with the natural feeling that her reputation had been exaggerated. Amongthese was Rachel-whose bitter ridiculeof the entire sad show made itself heard throughout the whole theatre, and drew attention to the place where she sat-one might even say, sarcastically enjoying the scene. Among the audience, however, was another gifted woman, who might far more legitimately have been shockedat the utter wreckof every musicalmeans of expressionin the singer-who might have been more naturally forgiven, if some humour of self-glorificationhad made her severely just-not worse-to an old prima donna;-I mean, Madame Viardot. Then, and not till then, she was hearing Madame Pasta. But Truth will always answer to the appeal of Truth. Dismal as was the spectacle-broken, hoarse, and destroyed as was the voice- the great style of the singer spoke to the great singer. The first scene was Ann Boleyn's duet with Jane Seymour. The old spirit was heard and seen in Madame Pasta's Sorgi! and the gesture with which she signed to her penitent rival to rise. Later, she attempted the final mad scene of the opera-that most complicatedand brilliant among the mad scenes on the modern musical stage-with its two cantabile movements, its snatches of recitative, and its bravuraof despair,which may be appealed to as an example of vocal display, till then unparagoned,when turned to the account of frenzy, not frivolity-perhaps as such commissioned by the superb creative artist. By that time, tired, unprepared,in ruin as she was, she had rallied a little.

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