Chopin's warmest admiration and longest comments were, however, reserved for Mdlle. Sontag. Having a little more than a year before her visit to Warsaw secretly married Count Rossi, she made at the time we are speaking of her last artistic tour before retiring, at the zenith of her fame and power, into private life. At least, she thought then it was her last tour; but pecuniary losses and tempting offers induced her in 1849 to reappear in public. In Warsaw she gave a first series of five or six concerts in the course of a week, went then by invitation of the King of Prussia to Fischbach, and from there returned to Warsaw. Her concerts were remarkable for their brevity. She usually sang at them four times, and between her performances the orchestra played some pieces. She dispensed altogether with the assistance of other virtuosos. But Chopin remarks that so great was the impression she made as a vocalist and the interest she inspired as an artist that one required some rest after her singing. Here is what the composer writes to his friend about her (June 5, 1830):—
...It is impossible for me to describe to you how great a pleasure the
acquaintance with this "God-sent one" (as some
enthusiasts justly call her) has given me. Prince Radziwitt
introduced me to her, for which I feel greatly obliged to
him. Unfortunately, I profited little by her eight days' stay
with us, and I saw how she was bored by dull visits from
senators, woyewods, castellans, ministers, generals, and
adjutants, who only sat and stared at her while they were
talking about quite indifferent things. She receives them all
very kindly, for she is so very good-natured that she cannot
be unamiable to anyone. Yesterday, when she was going to put
on her bonnet previously to going to the rehearsal, she was
obliged to lock the door of her room, because the servant in
the ante-room could not keep back the large number of
callers. I should not have one to her if she had not sent for
me, Radziwill having asked me to write out a song which he
has arranged for her. This is an Ukraine popular song
("Dumka") with variations. The theme and finale are
beautiful, but the middle section does not please me (and it
pleases Mdlle. Sontag even less than me). I have indeed made
some alterations, but it is still good for nothing. I am glad
she leaves after to-day's concert, because I shall pet rid of
this business, and when Radziwill comes at the close of the
Diet he may perhaps relinquish his variations.
Mdlle. Sontag is not beautiful, but in the highest degree
captivating; she enchants all with her voice, which indeed is
not very powerful, but magnificently cultivated. Her
diminuendo is the non plus ultra that can be heard; her
portamento wonderfully fine; her chromatic scales, especially
toward the upper part of her voice, unrivalled. She sang us
an aria by Mercadante, very, very beautifully; the variations
by Rode, especially the last roulades, more than excellently.
The variations on the Swiss theme pleased so much that, after
having several times bowed her acknowledgments for the
applause, she had to sing them da capo. The same thing
happened to her yesterday with the last of Rode's variations.
She has, moreover, performed the cavatina from "Il Barbiere",
as well as several arias from "La Gazza ladra" and from "Der
Freischutz". Well, you will hear for yourself what a
difference there is between her erformances and those we have
hitherto heard here. On one occasion was with her when Soliva
came with the Misses Gladkowska [the idea!] and Wolkaw, who
had to sing to her his duet which concludes with the words
"barbara sorte"—you may perhaps remember it. Miss Sontag
remarked to me, in confidence, that both voices were really
beautiful, but already somewhat worn, and that these ladies
must change their method of singing entirely if they did not
wish to run the risk of losing their voices within two years.
She said, in my presence, to Miss Wolkow that she possessed
much facility and taste, but had une voix trop aigue. She
invited both ladies in the most friendly manner to visit her
more frequently, promising to do all in her power to show and
teach them her own manner of singing. Is this not a quite
unusual politeness? Nay, I even believe it is coquetry so
great that it made upon me the impression of naturalness and
a certain naivete; for it is hardly to be believed that a
human being can be so natural unless it knows all the
resources of coquetry. In her neglige Miss Sontag is a
hundred times more beautiful and pleasing than in full
evening-dress. Nevertheless, those who have not seen her in
the morning are charmed with her appearance at the concert.
On her return she will give concerts up to the 22nd of the
month; then, as she herself told me, she intends to go to St.
Petersburg. Therefore, be quick, dear friend, and come at
once, so that you may not miss more than the five concerts
she has already given.
From the concluding sentence it would appear that Chopin had talked himself out on the subject; this, however, is not the case, for after imparting some other news he resumes thus:—
But I have not yet told you all about Miss Sontag. She has in
her rendering some entirely new broderies, with which she
produces great effect, but not in the same way as Paganini.
Perhaps the cause lies in this, that hers is a smaller genre.
She seems to exhale the perfume of a fresh bouquet of flowers
over the parterre, and, now caresses, now plays with her
voice; but she rarely moves to tears. Radziwill, on the other
hand, thinks that she sings and acts the last scene of
Desdemona in Othello in such a manner that nobody can refrain
from weeping. To-day I asked her if she would sing us
sometime this scene in costume (she is said to be an
excellent actress); she answered me that it was true that she
had often seen tears in the eyes of the audience, but that
acting excited her too much, and she had resolved to appear
as rarely as possible on the stage. You have but to come here
if you wish to rest from your rustic cares. Miss Sontag will
sing you something, and you will awake to life again and will
gather new strength for your labours.
Mdlle. Sontag was indeed a unique artist. In power and fulness of voice, in impassioned expression, in dazzling virtuosity, and in grandeur of style, she might be inferior to Malibran, Catalani, and Pasta; but in clearness and sweetness of voice, in purity of intonation, in airiness, neatness, and elegance of execution, and in exquisiteness of taste, she was unsurpassed. Now, these were qualities particularly congenial to Chopin; he admired them enthusiastically in the eminent vocalist, and appreciated similar qualities in the pleasing pianist Mdlle. de Belleville. Indeed, we shall see in the sequel that unless an artist possessed these qualities Chopin had but little sympathy to bestow upon him. He was, however, not slow to discover in these distinguished lady artists a shortcoming in a direction where he himself was exceedingly strong—namely, in subtlety and intensity of feeling. Chopin's opinion of Mdlle. Sontag coincides on the whole with those of other contemporaries; nevertheless, his account contributes some details which add a page to her biography, and a few touches to her portraiture. It is to be regretted that the arrival of Titus Woyciechowski in Warsaw put for a time an end to Chopin's correspondence with him, otherwise we should, no doubt, have got some more information about Mdlle. Sontag and other artists.
While so many stars were shining, Chopin's light seems to have been under an eclipse. Not only did he not give a concert, but he was even passed over on the occasion of a soiree musicale at court to which all the most distinguished artists then assembled at Warsaw were invited—Mdlle. Sontag, Mdlle. de Belleville, Worlitzer, Kurpinski, &c. "Many were astonished," writes Chopin, "that I was not invited to play, but I was not astonished." When the sittings of the Diet and the entertainments that accompanied them came to a close Chopin paid a visit to his friend Titus at Poturzyn, and on his return thence proceeded with his parents to Zelazowa Wola to stay for some time at the Count of Skarbek's. After leaving Poturzyn the picture of his friend's quiet rural life continually rose up in Chopin's mind. A passage in one of his letters which refers to his sojourn there seems to me characteristic of the writer, suggestive of moods consonant with his nocturnes and many cantilene in his other works:—
I must confess that I look back to it with great pleasure; I
feel always a certain longing for your beautiful country-
seat. The weeping-willow is always present to my mind; that
arbaleta! oh, I remember it so fondly! Well, you have teased
me so much about it that I am punished thereby for all my
sins.
And has he forgotten his ideal? Oh, no! On the contrary, his passion grows stronger every day. This is proved by his frequent allusions to her whom he never names, and by those words of restless yearning and heart-rending despair that cannot be read without exciting a pitiful sympathy. As before long we shall get better acquainted with the lady and hear more of her—she being on the point of leaving the comparative privacy of the Conservatorium for the boards that represent the world—it may be as well to study the symptoms of our friend's interesting malady.
The first mention of the ideal we find in the letter dated October 3, 1829, wherein he says that he has been dreaming of her every night for the past six months, and nevertheless has not yet spoken to her. In these circumstances he stood in need of one to whom he might confide his joys and sorrows, and as no friend of flesh and blood was at hand, he often addressed himself to the piano. And now let us proceed with our investigation.
March 27, 1830.—At no time have I missed you so much as now.
I have nobody to whom I can open my heart.
April 17, 1830.—In my unbearable longing I feel better as
soon as I receive a letter from you. To-day this comfort was
more necessary than ever. I should like to chase away the
thoughts that poison my joyousness; but, in spite of all, it
is pleasant to play with them. I don't know myself what I
want; perhaps I shall be calmer after writing this letter.