Here begins the new artist-life in our own city and at her childhood’s second home where she had won such honors as a girl. Her first appearance was at the Music Hall on the 14th of February, and on this occasion she played the Fantasie Caprice by Vieuxtemps and the Andante et Rondo Russe by De Beriot.
On the 21st she played again and gave the Souvenir de Mozart by Alard and the Cappicco on themes from Fille du Regiment.
On the 2d of March she played a Fantasie sur Lucrezia Borgia by Stanton, the Souvenir des Pyrenees by Alard, a Duet from William Tell, for violin and piano and repeated the Vieuxtemps Fantasie caprice.
Immediately after this she was called to New York to play at the Philharmonic concerts in that city. At one of these concerts the pianist Gottschalk, who happened to be present, became so excited over her playing that he jumped upon the seat and proposed cheers for Madam Urso, and at the close of the performance introduced himself to her in the ante-room and fairly overwhelmed her with congratulations and praise. It was a great surprise and pleasure to her, as the opinion of such a musician was of real value. She now grew more confident. The promise of her girlhood might yet be fulfilled. She would take new courage and go on with the work. She would practice and study every available moment. In time she would become indeed a great artist. She would not now stop to dream of future success. She must work and work hard.
Success and triumph were near at hand and almost before she was ready to receive them, engagements to play flowed in upon her from every direction. The days of poverty and trial were over. A steadily increasing financial success followed her efforts and, taught by the sorrowful experience of her childhood, she managed her affairs with wisdom and laid the foundation of her present independence. In May she gave a concert in Boston on her own behalf at Chickering hall and played Grand duo brilliant for piano and violin, La Mucette de Portici by Wolff and De Beriot, Reverie by Vieuxtemps, Elegie by Ernst, and the William Tell Duo by De Beriot.
These were the most popular pieces of the day. They all belong to the transcription or fantasie style. Enormously difficult and well calculated to please the fancy and amuse the ear, they give a hint of Madam Urso’s ability at that time and show just about how far American culture had risen. It is interesting to notice them as we shall see how rapid and how great have been the changes in violin music in the last ten years that are included in this part of the story of a musical life.
In June she made a short tour through the Provinces and then returned to New York and spent the Summer quietly among friends and in practice upon her violin.
Nothing satisfied her in music. The true artist never is satisfied, but is ever urged onward by a noble discontent. The concert pieces demanded by the public, were not to her taste. She could do better work. She knew and played finer works than these. The people would not listen to them. She would wait. In time they would grow up to something better. In all this she was ever urged on higher and higher, trying new feats of technical skill, drawing forth even finer tones and continually advancing towards the higher standard of excellence she had set for herself. In all this she met with obstacles and difficulties. She could not have instruction from others. There were none in the country who could teach her anything and her concerts broke in upon her time seriously. She was studying for public appearance and appearing in public at the same time.
On the opening of the musical season in the fall of 1863 Madam Urso was engaged by Mr. P. S. Gilmore to play at his concerts in Boston. The summer of apparent idleness had been well spent. Her study and practice bore splendid fruit and her genius bloomed out into new and wonderful music that seemed to exhale a perfume as ethereal and delicate as it was peculiar and original. The woman’s hand and heart lived in the music. To all the brilliancy and technical skill of a man she added a feminine lightness of touch, that in airy lightness, and grace, melting tenderness and sweetness is past description. Her violin now seemed to breathe and sigh. The tears would come to the listener’s eyes he knew not why. The tears were in the tones. The sorrow of her life exhaled in chastened sweetness from the strings. Her heart ran out on her finger tips and lived in her music.
It is not surprising that at one of these concerts the musicians of Boston should have united in presenting a testimonial of respect and admiration and personal regard to her as an artist and a woman. The letter was signed by the musical people of note resident in Boston and was accompanied by a handsome gold watch.