Modern comic opera has adopted in a modified and refined form the chief characteristics—one of them the woman in tights and another of them the clown with his perfunctory low comedy—of the old-fashioned burlesque. Of course, the opera makes more pretensions than did the burlesque, and musically it is superficially superior, not necessarily more tuneful but orchestrated with more scholarly skill. Stage pageantry to-day is also much further developed, and spectacular effects are far more elaborate. The costuming is richer and more tasteful, and the women on the stage—if not actually younger and prettier—are certainly daintier and more feminine. The girlishness and natural beauty of many modern light-opera choruses are simply amazing.
If we look beneath these externals, however, we find that the comic opera of to-day is hardly an advance over the burlesque of yesterday. There was good stuff in most of the old burlesques. They had original ideas, plenty of simple dramatic action, and some genuine comedy, but it is seldom that one finds any of these three essentials in the book of the modern comic opera. Not for ten years, I am tempted to declare, has there been written a light-opera libretto with sufficient intrinsic merit to attract the public attention without the assistance of the most magnetic personalities surrounded and set forth by the most gorgeous of stage accessories.
Camille D'Arville's cavaliers—and in recent years she has not played a part that did not require male attire—are a direct heritage from the burlesque stage. When Camille D'Arville becomes a man, she makes the change from petticoats without the slightest show of self-consciousness. I heard her once termed the most modest woman in tights on the stage. That was simply an acknowledgment of her complete effacement of the personal equation. Yet her individuality was not at all diminished, her presence was inspiring, and her acting both vivacious and forceful.
Camille D'Arville was born in 1863 in the village of Oldmarck, Province of Overyseel, Holland, and came of a family that had never shown any theatrical or especial musical talent. When she was twelve years old, her voice gave promise of developing into something more than the ordinary, and she was sent to the Conservatory at Amsterdam for instruction. Here she made her first appearance in concert in 1877. Later she went to Vienna, where she received further instruction, and also made a successful appearance in a one-act operetta.
"I was a big girl fourteen or fifteen years old before I saw other lands than my own Holland," remarked Miss D'Arville, "and after I left Amsterdam I was on the Continent and in England for a long time before I returned home. I still claim Holland as my birthright, however, and I do not want to be called anything but Dutch. If I have a trace of French accent in speaking English, as some claim, it is not my fault.
"But, do you know," she continued, "if it were purely a matter of inclination, I think I should much rather be an actress than to be a singer. Of course, I love music, but what can be more gratifying than to portray the heroines of Shakespeare and other great dramatists? But my natural endowment as a singer led me toward the operatic career. In opera I prefer a strong dramatic rôle, a part which has only one grand song if it afford plenty of opportunity for acting.
"When did I first sing in public? Oh, I can't remember that. I appeared in concerts in Amsterdam when I was a girl, and by the time I entered my teens I took part in operatic performances given by the Conservatory pupils. Do you mean when did I make my real début in opera? I suppose that might be said to have occurred in March, 1883, at the Strand Theatre, London, in an operetta entitled 'Cymbria, or the Magic Thimble.'"
Before this, however, Miss D'Arville had anything but a pleasant experience in London. She went there under the supposition that she had been engaged to sing in opera. The managerial promise she found to be worthless, and she had to be satisfied with a chance to earn a little money in a music hall. It was after several months of the most uncongenial toil that she finally gained recognition in "Cymbria."
"Harry Paulton was responsible for that appearance," continued Miss D'Arville. "He heard me sing, and under his tuition I learned the words of the opera and sung them before I understood their meaning. It was not long, however, before I could speak English fairly well. The Dutch, you know, are famous linguists.
"In October of the same year I created the part of Gabrielle Chevrette in 'La Vie,' an adaptation by H. B. Farnie of Offenbach's 'La Vie Parisienne.' The critics spoke very kindly of me then, but were much more generous in their praises when during the following spring I appeared as Fredegonda in a revival of M. Hervé's 'Chilperic' given at the Empire Theatre. Perhaps chief among my early successes was in 'Rip Van Winkle.' I succeeded Miss Sadie Martinot in the leading soprano part, and sang it until the end of the opera's long run. Fred Leslie was the Rip Van Winkle, and very fine he was, too. It was a pity he afterward became so thoroughly identified with burlesque."