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Sunday, May 8, 2011

Emma Calvé: Opera's First Femme Fatale

Emma Calvé was born in 1858, in Aveyron. She spent her childhood in Spain, but moved to Paris with her mother after her parents separated. She began her vocal studies at this point. Her debut was in Brussels in 1881, in Faust, but she did not find much if any success at the beginning, and small roles over the next year or so were not much of a showcase. She returned to Paris and began to study with Mathilde Marchesi, a well-known mezzo soprano of the day who had herself studied with Manuel García, the famous teacher and codifier of bel canto singing techniques. She did not now have to wait long for success. After a tour of Italy, where she watched and studied famous and successful singers, she returned to Paris in 1891 to create the part of Suzel in Mascagni's L'Amico Fritz. She scored a success, and was asked to create the role of Santuzza in Cavalleria Rusticana. That turned out to be the magic moment. Italian melodrama, the staple of the newly emerging verismo, perfectly suited her intense temperament, renowned acting abilities, and artistic instincts. Her success was huge and she went on to repeat it in London. Santuzza was ever after considered one of her signature roles, another being Carmen. Both these roles presented Calvé with an opportunity to display all her skills, which were everywhere celebrated. She was, in fact, so fiery and melodramatic in her stage portrayals that some newspaper critics were offended by such earthy and passionate emotional displays from a woman on the pubic stage. It did not conform at all—especially in Victorian London—to upper middle class notions of female propriety, even (or perhaps particularly) in the theater.

Here is a recording made in 1907 of "Voi lo sapete, o mamma." It needs to be remembered that we are dealing here with a soprano from so long ago (she was born two years before the American Civil War began!) that even her earliest recordings capture only the voice of a middle aged woman. She was, for example, nearly 50 years old when this record was made:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dBmPNjpfyic



An absolutely fascinating recording from one hundred and four years ago! It is immediately apparent that the intensity and melodrama, if you will, of her presentation is strictly musical and stylistic in its nature. There is no shouting, no grating, gasping sobs, or any other kind of artistic indiscretion that some sopranos (especially mezzo sopranos) allow to infiltrate this piece. Her vocal instincts were always musical; it was the dramatic conception of the music and—from virtually all accounts—her acting that was so special. Indeed, she uses a vocal technique (the famously dark and intense chest voice so common in Belle Époque singing), to make her dramatic points. Its discreet use turns out to be all that is necessary to convey the emotional intensity of the music here. She leaves the essentially soprano part of her voice free from such affectation.

Let us turn to the other role for which she was so famous—Carmen. So powerful, according to contemporary accounts, was her portrayal of Carmen that it was many years before any other soprano or mezzo soprano could claim to equal it. Some record collectors claim that CD re-recordings do not do justice to the subtlety or intensity of her voice and pronunciation because record companies have "muffled" the sound in an attempt to get rid of the scratches on the old records. To put that idea to the test, here is a 1908 recording, directly from the old record, of the "Seguidilla" from Carmen. I ask you to tolerate the scratches in favor of the "live" feeling of the recording, and again, I stress the musicality of the vocal drama:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x5LWakZv-w0


I think the old recording does give a better idea of the vocal drama being played out here.

A word is in order about the classification of her voice. The term "mezzo-soprano" was not much used in Calve's era. She was most commonly called simply "soprano." The floods of classifications were to come later, largely invented by critics. I have written elsewhere on this subject, and I do not hesitate to reiterate my feeling that much of this is simply unnecessary. There are other ways to describe voices than to create a new category every time some singer sounds a bit different from another singing the same parts. I daresay the old SATB choral designations would work remarkably well if we talked more about color, flexibility and tone, and less about mezzo, lyric, dramatic, coloratura, spinto, leggiero, profundo, etc. etc. etc. But I digress:) Let's settle for soprano with an strong chest register in Calve's case.

Actually, there is, in addition to all the drama, a lot of traditional bel canto soprano to be tapped here, as can be amply demonstrated by this lovely recording of "Charmant oiseau," from Félicien David's La Perle du Brésil, 1908:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwfbH7--_JE


Emma Calvé was important in her day because she led the way for women as passionate, real flesh and blood characters on the stage. That she could do so within the aesthetic framework of traditionally beautiful singing makes her all the more remarkable.

20 comments:

JD Hobbes said...

As you say, strong, straightforward, and unembellished. Very nice.

Edmund St. Austell said...

Thank you very much. I appreciate your comment, as always. There was indeed a straightforwardness to her singing. I had not thought to use that word, but actually it works very well. That directness, especially in an era of the strutting peacock, and the amazingly overdressed female, was in itself disarming, and cut to the core. That was certainly part of her power, delivered vocally to complement her direct and powerful acting. Good comment! Thank

corax said...

one of the interesting things to me, about calve's voice, is the bell-like clarity of the instrument, even in the chest register. we think of 'mezzos' today as having a 'smoky' or dark timbre to their voices; she manages this repertoire [and some of what i think of as a true 'soprano's' rep] without the slightest loss of luminosity. i love that about her.

Edmund St. Austell said...

You are absolutely right, and that is precisely what makes me think of her as a soprano, as opposed to a mezzo soprano. As I mentioned in the piece, we can dispense with a lot of fussy nomenclature if we will just--exactly as you have done--talk in terms of timbre and clarity,for example, and keep the general voice categorizations to a minimum. Excellent observation! Thank you, as always, my friend!

DanPloy said...

A wonderful choice of singer, Edmund.

I think the Pearl CD captures her best, (I don't believe they process the originals as some do).

And Herman Klein puts it better than I ever could:
'...[her voice]...seemed to have the sombre quality of of a contralto miraculously impinged upon the acute timbre of a soprano - the best voice of all for the expression of mental anguish, suffering, pleading, and despair'.

My little contribution is a single note, a demonstration of her 'fourth voice', (a vocal trick she she learned from a castrato in Rome; 'an unusually high note with and eerie, faraway sound, produced with the mouth shut').

http://www.danploy.com/Music/Calve_Ma_Lisette-0.mp3

Edmund St. Austell said...

Thank you for a fascinating comment and link. I shall listen to the link right away. She was certainly a most impressive singer and performer; no doubt about it! Thanks again for the comment!

Anonymous said...

Thanks for the article ; this singer is new to me. It’s great to hear such ancient recordings, and she is an outstanding artist. Her voice is fresh and strong, in spite of her age and quality of the recordings. (By the way, I always prefer ‘scratches’, because they sound more natural than restored recordings. The most awful recording I heard was of Caruso’s voice accompanied by a modern orchestra. The voice sounded dull and nasal in comparison to the orchestra, which seemed too clear)
.You described her style very precisely. She doesn’t seem a ‘mezzo’ , because her voice has a ‘silvery ‘ ringing tone. You are absolutely right about ‘traditional bel canto’ sound of her voice -- it’s ‘silky’ or flute-like , which was typical for old bel canto singers. Perhaps, this is the reason why her singing seems so effortless.

The recordings are excellent, she is really dramatic and ‘modern’ in her acting. There is something similar to Callas in her singing, her timbre sounds 'tragic'( DanPloy wrote about it in his comment)

n.a.

Edmund St. Austell said...

Thank you very much, my friend, for an erudite and remarkably incisive comment. I think I should take it and put it in place of the article! I agree absolutely about the inadvisability of trying to "modernize" ancient recordings. Something is invariably lost. I've heard some of those remastered Caruso recordings you speak of, and they are indeed dreadful. He sounds like Perry Como:) I am most interested to hear you say that there is comething in Calve's voice that reminds you of Callas. That is really an astute observation, because it would not be the timbre of the voice per se that creates that impression, in my opinion, but the dramatically intense mental and emotional conception of the music. Somehow, it transmits itself to the listener....it communicates in a near mysterious way that is only partly vocal. There is another quality involved that is very hard to nail down. I think it has to be style..which is so hard to analyze, but whose effects can always be felt. Thank you again for an authoritative comment!

Anonymous said...

You are absolutely right. Calve preferred dramatic , tragic parts like Callas. Both were excellent actresses and skillful singers. On the other hand there is a slight connection between a personality and a voice. There are no scientific proofs of this connection, but it's hard to imagine Callas with a sweet angelic timbre, her timbre and her personality match perfectly. She loved intense, dramatic parts, she was a tragic ‘character’ in real life, and her timbre was very dramatic. There was something similar in Calve’s voice, as it seems to me.

n.a.

Edmund St. Austell said...

Yes! Once again, I agree with you completely. That's a big part of the secret! Спасибо Вам большое!

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Edmund St. Austell said...

Con mucho placer. Usted tiene un sitio muy encantador. Mucho gusto.

Anonymous said...

I much appreciated your comment on fiery and melodramatic and passionate emotional displays from a woman on the "pubic stage".

You can't make that up, Mr. Freud.

Edmund St.Austell said...

Interesting, isn't it, how people have such intense subconscious reactions to that kind of thing? I think Anna Netrebko comes in for her fair share of it today.

Annie said...

Anyone who has heard Calve's high note at the end of "Ma Lisette" cannot claim she was a mezzo! Frankly I'm not a fan of Calve's singing style - her abrupt breaks between head and chest voice do not do it for me. But objectively speaking, she was a great and eclectic singer. And she actually managed to shock G.B.Shaw as Carmen - well, I'd have loved to be a fly on the wall on that one. :) She must have had a riveting stage personality. All in all, I admire her. Thanks for the delightful article, Edmund!

Edmund StAustell said...

And thank YOU, my friend, for an insightful comment!

Anonymous said...

Calve was taught by Domenico Mustafa, the predecessor to Moreschi as the most famous Castrato in Europe. He apparently taught her how to sing certain EXTREMELY high notes which he himself could also sing. WHat is you opinion of Moreschis voice and mannerisms? They seem rather similar to those of the belcanto you admire?

Edmund StAustell said...

Yes, I note similarities, although it is very hard to judge from the little recorded material left by Moreschi. If one can listen, informed by experience and imagination, it is possible to sense the voice as it may have been in its prime, and it would have been spectacular. I imagine that it would remind us of some of the best male sopranos and altos of our day. On my Youtube channel, I have videos of Oleg Ryabets doing "O mio babbino caro," and an old recording from the 30's of the otherwise unknown Frank Ivallo singing "Still as the Night." This second video is particularly interesting for the soprano C5 at the end, which is extraordinarily rare. In that sound I hear what I suspect might have been the higher voice of the typical castrato. Generally speaking, I suspect that the male altos and sopranos that we have today are superior to those of the 18th century. Something that might be called the triumph of technique over butchery!

Anonymous said...

Yes, I have heard the Ivallo in the past, and he really (to my ears) seems to have the same kind of sound as Moreschi (perhaps Ivallo was a Castrato? the hardly exists an information anywhere about him) and the C5 is marvellous. Yes, it does seem likely that a good modern male soprano has a much better sound than a castrato, more natural sounding too (though perhaps part of the appeal of the Castrati was their novelty and uniqueness, and even their unnaturalness). The Ideale of Tosti as recorded by Moreschi is very lovely though, in and of itself.

Gerhard Santos said...

Hello Good Day Sir Edmund!! You're a very good writer with a lot of vision. I appreciate how well you make your points and your dedication to writing. This is really good content. Thank you ! More Power!! and *GOD BLESS*