“You think there is good material for great voices in American women, but not sufficient energy?”
“That is my fear, not my belief. I have noticed that young women here seem to underestimate the cost of distinction. It means more than most of them are prepared to give; and when they face the exactions of art they falter and drop out. Hence we have many middle-class singers, but few really powerful ones.”
“What are these exactions you speak of?”
“Time, money, and loss of friends, of pleasure. To be a great singer means, first, to be a great student. To be a great student means that you have no time for balls and parties, very little for friends, and less for carriage rides and pleasant strolls. All that is really left is a shortened allowance of sleep, of time for meals and time for exercise.”
“Did you ever imagine that people leaped into permanent fame when still young and without much effort on their part?”
“I did. But I discovered that real fame—permanent recognition which cannot be taken away from you—is acquired only by a lifetime of most earnest labor. People are never internationally recognized until they have reached middle life. Many persons gain notoriety young, but that goes as quickly as it comes. All true success is founded on real accomplishment, acquired with difficulty; and so, when you see some one accounted great, you will usually find him to be in the prime of life or past it.”
“You grant that many young people have genius?”
“Certainly I do. Many of them have it. They will have waited long, however, before it has been trained into valuable service. The world gives very little recognition for a great deal of labor paid in; and when I earn a thousand dollars for a half hour’s singing sometimes it does not nearly average up for all the years and for the labor much more difficult, which I contributed without recompense.”