His performance of the quack doctor Dulcamara, in "L'Elisir d'Amore," was no less amazing as a piece of humorous acting, a creation matched by that of the haggard, starveling poet in "Matilda di Shabran" and Papageno in Mozart's "Zauberflote." Anything more ridiculous and mirthful than these comedy chef-d'ouvres could hardly be fancied. The same critic quoted above says: "One could write a page on his Barber in Rossini's master-work; a paragraph on his Duke in 'Lucrezia Borgia,' an exhibition of dangerous, suspicious, sinister malice such as the stage has rarely shown; another on his Podesta in 'La Gazza Ladra' (in these two characters bringing him into close rivalry with Lablache, a rivalry from which he issued unharmed); and last, and almost best of his creations, his Masetto." Ronconi is, we believe, still living, though no longer on the stage; but his memory will remain one of the great traditions of the lyric drama, so long as consummate histrionic ability is regarded as worthy of respect by devotees of the opera.
V.
Mme. Viardot's name is, perhaps, more closely associated with the music of Meyerbeer than that of any other composer. Her Alice in "Robert le Diable," her Valentine in "Les Huguenots," added fresh luster to her fame. In the latter character no representative of opera, in spite of the long bead-roll of eminent names interwoven with the record of this musical work, is worthy to be compared with her. This part was for years regarded as standing to her what Medea was to Pasta, Norma to Grisi, Fidelio to Malibran and Schröder-Devrient, and it was only when she herself made a loftier flight as Fides in "Le Prophète" that this special connection of the part with the artist ceased. Her genius always found a more ardent sympathy with the higher forms of music. "The florid graces and embellishments of the modern Italian school," says a capable judge, "though mastered by her with perfect ease, do not appear to be consonant with her genius. So great an artist must necessarily be a perfect mistress of all styles of singing, but her intellect evidently inclines her to the severer and loftier school." She was admitted to be a "woman of genius, peculiar, inasmuch as it is universal."
Her English engagement at the Royal Italian Opera, in 1848, began with the performance of Amina in "La Sonnambula," and created a great sensation, for she was about to contest the suffrages of the public with a group of the foremost singers of the world, among whom were Grisi, Alboni, and Persiani. Mme. Viardot's nervousness was apparent to all. "She proved herself equal to Malibran," says a writer in the "Musical World," speaking of this performance; "there was the same passionate fervor, the same absorbing depth of feeling; we heard the same tones whose naturalness and pathos stole into our very heart of hearts; we saw the same abstraction, the same abandonment, the same rapturous awakening to joy, to love, and to devotion. Such novel and extraordinary passages, such daring nights into the region of fioriture, together with chromatic runs ascending and descending, embracing the three registers of the soprano, mezzo-soprano, and contralto, we have not heard since the days of Malibran." Another critic made an accurate gauge of her peculiar greatness in saying: "Mme. Viardot's voice grows unconsciously upon you, until at last you are blind to its imperfections. The voice penetrates to the heart by its sympathetic tones, and you forget everything in it but its touching and affecting quality. You care little or nothing for the mechanism, or rather, for the weakness of the organ. You are no longer a critic, but spellbound by the hand of genius, moved by the sway of enthusiasm that comes from the soul, abashed in the presence of intellect."
The most memorable event of this distinguished artist's life was her performance, in 1849, of the character of Fides in "Le Prophète." No operatic creation ever made a greater sensation in Paris. Meyerbeer had kept it in his portfolio for years, awaiting the time when Mme. Viardot should be ready to interpret it, and many changes had been made from time to time at the suggestion of the great singer, who united to her executive skill an intellect of the first rank, and a musical knowledge second to that of few composers. At the very last moment it is said that one or more of the acts were entirely reconstructed, at the wish of the representative of Fides, whose dramatic instincts were as unerring as her musical judgment. No performance since that of Viardot, though the most eminent singers have essayed the part, has equaled the first ideal set by her creation from its possibilities.
In this opera the principal interest pivots on the mother. The sensuous, sentimental, or malignant phases of love are replaced by the purest maternal devotion. It was left for Mme. Viardot to add an absolutely new type to the gallery of portraits on the lyric stage. We are told by a competent critic, whose enthusiasm in the study of this great impersonation did not yet quite run away with his judicial faculty: "Her remarkable power of self-identification with the character set before her was, in this case, aided by person and voice. The mature burgher woman in her quaint costume; the pale, tear-worn devotee, searching from city to city for traces of the lost one, and struck with a pious horror at finding him a tool in the hands of hypocritical blasphemy, was till then a being entirely beyond the pale of the ordinary prima donna's comprehension—one to the presentation of which there must go as much simplicity as subtile art, as much of tenderness as of force, as much renunciation of woman's ordinary coquetries as of skill to impress all hearts by the picture of homely love, desolate grief, and religious enthusiasm." M. Roger sang with Mme. Viardot in Paris, but, when the opera was shortly afterward reproduced in London, he was replaced by Signor Mario, "whose appearance in his coronation robes reminded one of some bishop-saint in a picture by Van Ryek or Durer, and who could bring to bear a play of feature without grimace, into scenes of false fascination, far beyond the reach of the clever French artist, M. Roger." The production of "Le Prophète" saved the fortunes of the struggling new Italian Opera House, which had been floundering in pecuniary embarrassments.
The last season of Mme. Viardot in England was in 1858, during which she sang to enthusiastic audiences in many of her principal characters, and also contributed to the public pleasure in concert and the great provincial festivals. The tour in Poland, Germany, and Russia which followed was marked by a series of splendid ovations and the eagerness with which her society was sought by the most patrician circles in Europe.
Her last public appearance in Paris was in 1862, and since that time Mme. Viardot has occupied a professional chair at the Conservatoire. In private life this great artist has always been loved and admired for her brilliant mental accomplishments, her amiability, the suavity of her manners, and her high principles, no less than she has been idolized by the public for the splendor of her powers as musician and tragedienne.