Evening Star Newspaper, December 11, 1921, Page 69

FIGTION | @hg %unflw Part 4—8 Pages | oing Into th SOPHIE BRASLAU, CECILE, THE ENGLISH SINGER; BUZZI-PECCIA, NOTED TEACHER, AND GIORDANO, THE ITALIAN COMPOSER, IN THE LATTER'S GARDEN AT STRESA, ITALY. 7 By Sophie Braslau. T is odd how prone the public Is to consider a noted artist to be not quite a human being, and hence to regard her as set upon a pedestal as something to be gazed upon with awe and admiration. That is the case not only here but also in England. After my recent recital in Albert Hall, in London, a large group of the audience came back and stared at me as if T were a wax work. Had they but known that I was nothing more than a lonely, homesick Ameri- can girl they might have at least dared to come forward and say a few words to me. But if there is the aloof and wor- shiping class, there is also a class which is not so aloof, but which fol- lows the woman artist and renders her at times absolutely miserable. I| the famous do not mean by this “flapper brigade” that waylays “Gerry” Farrar affer every public performance and my very good friends who come forward to thank me after my recitals wherever I go in this country. I have in mind, rather, the men who seem to flitter around women of stage prominence like the proverbial moth about the flame. * Kk k% Y Y experiences with this class I 'L cannot repeat—the attempted overtures, the letters slipped under my hotel door from-all sorts and-con- ditions, some funuy, some tragic—the Jetters that come every day from men who protest they have fallen in love N with my voice or my portrait! Nor are all these merely from flatterers and flirts. They are also from men who are quite serious. Once, not a very long way from Denver, there was Introduced to me a young man who seemed most pleasant and was quite intimate with several nice peo- ple whom I have known for some time. Hence when, one warm even- ing, he asked me to take a motor ride with him T was glad to accept. I remember riding for, what seemed many miles, mounting constantly through winding hill roads that grad- urally unfolded before our gaze an unparalleled panorama of beauty, stretching for seemingly endless space as far as we could see. My companion stopped his car on a sum- mit that commanded a marvelous view of the glorious plain country, the home of a million head of cattle. “How wonderful!” I exclaimed. “Do you like it?" he asked. “Be- cause if you do” he continued ar-} dently, “vou have only to say thel! word and every bit of it's yours” I was stunned and impressed by the sudden, impetuous offer of that voung ranch king. I gently thanked him and suggested an immediate re- turn. But at the time I could not help wondering, as I have wondered, womanlike, many times since in sim- ilar if not as spectacular situations, whether he had become infatuated with a woman or a voice! Even the man artists dwell in this same mystic aura apparently. Not long ago one told me that, caught in his dressing room ty a band of woman admirers, he laid aside a copy of a popular science magazine, only to have one of his visitors exclaim, pite- ously and disillusioned: “Oh, do you read that?” She was broken-hearted, apparently, at finding her idol reading what— well, what her own brother might very well read. Poor woman! T hope | she will never find out that the popu- | lar mechanical magazines and detec- tive storles form this artist’s favorite reading. * ¥ x % INOR ase the man artists free froml the unwelcome attentions of fe- male admirers. Apart from the silly mash notes of foolish young girls, they are aften pursued by love-smit- ten women who should have more sense. On the street, in restaurants, in the theater they are ogled and out- rageously flirted with. A great tenor with whom I was lunching, in speak- ing of this, remarked that he could not understand how a refined, edu- cated, well bred woman would act as many had toward himself. And as he spoke he pointed out to me a very prominent society bud who was doing everything in her power to attract his attention. I watched her for some time, and I could readily under- stand my host’s disgust. Such experiences are all in a day’s work; they are the penalty the star pays for fame in any chosen profes- sion; they are one of the trials and tribulations of the artist's life. But they are as nothing compared to the trials and tribulations of going “into the heart of America” on concert tours. For what with joiting along on endless trains, springless hotel T MAGAZINE SECTIOI‘\f WASHINGTON, D. C., SUNDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 11, 1921 ON Tour Through the Small Cities of the Country—Discomforts Forgotten in _ Warm Receptions From Audiences—Cordiality of Westerner Makes Special Appeal to Touring Artist—The Old Question of Conflict Between Love and Art. Little Stories of Strange Happenings on the Road. beds, near-meals and musty “opera houses,” these extended journeys into the remote districts of our vast coun- try are no sinecure or pleasure trips, even for such artists as have tried to Balve some of -their troubles by purchasing private railroad cars. too, got one of those expensive toys for a while, but could never find it when T wanted it. Or, if I did, it was miles “down the yards,” and to reach it T had to plow through the mud. So I rejoiced at joining the “common people” again and contenting myself with a parlor car chair—when I could get one! But our $rouble is well repaid. We find love arld acclamation everywhere, and the chill of a frigid railway car is soon forgotten in the warmth and affection that radiate from our audi- ences outside of New York. I have sung in every city of importance in America, and, judging from the re- ception my sometimes heavy program receives, “Main Street's” indictment of our country’s. culture may - well be questioned.” I find for the most part my audiences singularly hearty and unrepressed. I know from experi- ence that the “bluff good-hearted- ness” of the middle westerner is not greatly exaggerated. It is an engag- ing and charming quality, which I But you ‘mustn’t It makes me feel so Ma-dam_ Braslau. call me Ma-dam. old!” * k% * : R a moment he didnt believe it. Then, when he saw that I wasn't| | i THE CITY. my somewhat striking gown, which,|of glad to meet up with you stage manlike, he hadn’t noticed before, he | folk. You're a good.crowd, all right! gradually accepted the fact as truth. [And, say, that show can't start till “Well, by golly, that's good!" he|you get there, can it?" roared, holding forth a great hnnd.& He rocked with laughter as his im- T'm sure glad to know you—I'm sure | agination and sense of humor caught SOPHIE BRASLAU IN HER ROOM IN SAN FRANCISCO. THE PHOTOGRAPH SHOWS GIFTS OF FLOWERS AND FRUIT FROM HER FRIENDS IN ing with him, with the sheer infec- tiousness of his good humor. The in- cldent and the man put me in rare good mood for the concert. Some- how it was all 80 typical of big, boy- ish, iovable Chicago and the middle never fails to promote speedy triqml-ljoklng and let his eyes wander over:glad to know you. I'm always kind|the idea. Then we all started laugh- | west. - ship and_mutual understanding. * % ¥ % OT long ago I was headed for Chi- cago, due to sing there the even- ing of my arrival. Had the train been on time, there would have been ample time for me to go to my hotel, to dine (ever so lightly—the penalty of art!), to dress and to make my way leisurely to the hall. But we were not on time, and as the minutes sped by and the train crawled behind them I began to wonder if I should get there even in time to rush straight to the hall from the station. In order to save time, I donned my recital gown in my drawing room on the train, watching eagerly out of the window the while for landmarks that might indicate the approach of our destination. I have always hated to keep my audiences waiting—even a few minutes—and the prospect of keeping them for an hour wondering whether 1 was ever coming nearly made me distraught. . And, oh, that awful train! At last it dragged itself into La Salle street station, and, followed by my maid, my accompanist and a pair of bewildered porters, I rushed, all ready to go “on,” down the station platform. It was 8:30. I was already a quarter of an hour late, and I could Just see the distracted manager won: dering whatever had become of me. Without even waiting to see whether any one had been sent to -call for me, {1 fairly dived toward the taxi sta- tion—only to see & portly Chicagoan getting into the last one there! He Ll.urnerl around when he heard my ex- clamation of dismay. “Young lady,” he asked, with a fa- miliar kindliness that no New Yorker would ever dare to assume to a woman he didn't know for fear of being arrested, “are you in a pretty big rush to get where you're going?” Grateful for any opportunity that might enable me to make time, I as- sured him I was—in a terrible rus| “Well,” he said, “so'm I, but if Yyou're going in my direction, why just jump right aboard. I'm going to the Orchestra Hall, and I guess I'm kind of late right now.” I almost laughed as I said I was hurrying to get to the very same place! Just then my companions and por- ters came up, puffing with the exer- tion of their undue haste. “We're all hurrying to get there,” I added. - The kind stranger looked a bit as- tonished at this unexpected addition to the family, but genially waved us all aboard. “Guess you're going to the concert by this singer Braslau,” began the stranger. 3 I assured him that we were. “Well, that's where I'm going, too. Afn’t never heard her, but I hear she's quite a gal. Makes 'em sit up, she does. Hope we don’t miss much.” “Oh, I don't think you'll miss any- thing,” I promised him. “Well, I dunno,” he drawled dubi- ously. “It’s right late now.” “I know. But, then, you see, the concert can't very well start until I get. there.” “No? How's that? You got a pull 7 He guffawed at the idea. “Maybe you know Ma-dam Braslau?’ “Yes, pretty well. You see, I'm IWORK IN DEVASTATED SECTIONS OF FRANCE BY JAMES MARTIN MILLER. ME.. VIVIANI, wife of the former premier of France, said she would not give what we call in America in interview, because, she said, French women do not do that sort of thing. After I had called on her three times at the French residential head- quarters at the hotel, she gave her consent to a “conversation” for pub- lication, as she expressed ft. In this “conversation” Mme. Viviani spoke in the kindliest terms of the hospitality she has received, and is still receiving from the soclety of ‘Washington, and those In Washington representing every state. This cultured French woman Is the constant companion of her husband while in Washington. M. Viviani is one of the greatest public men of France. He is now the head of the French delegation, since Premjer Bri- and's return to France. Mme. Viviani does not speak Eng- lish at all. The gquestions and an- swers were taken down by a stenog- rapher in French and typed in the same language. I then translated the “conversation” into English. Having been requested to submit my transla- tion to M. Camerlynck, the noted lin- guist, who is officially with the French delegation, I did so. After & few minor corrections he gave his ap- proval for publication in The Sunday Star. ¥t ! The first question asked wi “Mme. Viviani, what are your impressions of America, and particularly of the American women? Mme. Viviani feplied: | “I find it rather diméult to formu- late an impression on America and the American woman after 80 short i a stay in the United States, and un- | der conditions which in no wise favor | the study of questions of such im- ! portance. I have so far met mostiy i the ladies of Washington soctéty and | they have given me the ‘opportunity to again appreciate in even-a greater degree the charm and distinction of the American woman. “It would be temerity on my part to form with the facts-at my disposal a conclusion of e general or social nature. For all that, I am struck with the influence exercised here -by the women of all classes in regard to the social problems, of which I may mention the very interesting question of public hygiene and health, the pro- tection qf Infant life, prohibition, etc. X 2 ox x HTHERE 18 no doubt at all that the activity exercised by the Amer- fcan woman has helped in a large measure in the -elaboration of laws applied in these departments in the course of recent years. “On the other hand, the role of the American woman is vonsiderable 2lso in the private labors of philan- thropy; while in France the goverh- ment manages the many means neces- sary for the alleviation: of sickness and misfortune. “It is principally private initiative which in the United Statés has or- ganized the assistance which has so appreciably reduced pauperism and MME. VIVIANI, WIFE OF THE FORMER FRENCH PREMIER AND DELEGATE TO THE CONFERENCE ON LIMITATION OF ARMAMENT. tain of these labors, notably by means pf a visit I paid the: Young Women's Christian Association, which is working in many fields to offer to the lonely .young yodmen and young girls comfort, company and support which take the place of their. homes.” The next question asked was: “The American women would like to have {: impressions in re‘-:;ll o e bettered the.condition of the masses. How would it be possible to over look the efforts of the women of all classes who have vied with one an- other in the huge labor given ex- pression in the inexhaustible public generosity—that American generos- ity from which our devastated re- gions have received so many benefits? “Some of them constitute commit- tees which manage the funds ob- tajned from financiers and jndustrial leaders, others = occupy - themselves there with work of all sorts, paid or gratuitous, to which they have consecrated thair hearts ahd all their energy. T hive been able to-judge, myself, of the effectiveness of cer- to the ial conventions of French women since the war as com- pared” with conditions prior to the war. For instance, formerly young girls had to'be chaperoned going to and returning from school;: also, whenever they wenmt into the street. What is the situation today?” Mme. Viviani replied: “It would not be correct to believe that what you call the social con- ventions surrounding the young girl of France have been abandoned since | the war. The custom of having young girls accompanied in the street and to be properly escorted untll their marriage is an old French custom, ieven a mark of honor in all Latin icounlrlu. % { “There is no doubt that it will only be modified by slow evolution. It is certain that the war, in having led many young girls to play a lead- ing role in the home in the absence of their fathers and brothers, has aided in bringing them into stronger relief and in developing their per- sonalities. 1 * *x *x % ‘:“THE education of the young girl is being more and more de- {veloped in France. She is trying more and more to place herself, through ‘education, on the level of !the man, taking the same courses |and passing the same examinations. | Special universities have been estab- lished for young girls, certain course: at the Sorbonne, some of them of a very arduous or scientific or literary character, have classes almost ex- clusively composed of young women. All this evidences the effort of the young- Frerich ‘woman to be modern in her work and spirit. If she wishes to be the equal of man it is necessary for her to gain this right through thought and knowledge.” . The third guestion asked her was: “How do.you explain that the French women have not obtained, as yet,.the political rights, women have in other countries? Shouid not. the women, like the men, be-admitted to public | tunctions and office?” 2 Madame. Viviani replied: " “To _explain why there has not been in. France, . as in other countries, a great movement in support of giving women political rights it is necessary to recall that the principal role of the French woman s, not to be sought in political affairs, but in the home. It is in the home that she makes her influence’ felt, where she can bring into play her qualities of good sense, of the heart and fine Judgment. 9 “It. is possible that French women sense in a vague manner_ that in throwing . themselves into the' melee in’an_effort to gain place equal to dt.of man_ in .political life they ,q!nd. risk compromising the place they hold, and wish to hold, near their husbands and children. . “Nevertheless, many people iii France regognize that women should be ad- mitted more generally to Eo-opera- tion in the preparation of legislative reforms interesting their sex, notably, when these apply to-questions of ma- ternity and child welfare. “Certain associations. and certain foundations of women in France have already rendered great service in- this respect. No 'doubt they will be called upon to play & great role in this connection.” ol Despite what a foreign artist once said to me about “all America’s being alike,” it is my belief that the per- sonality” of its various towns differs considerably—Richmond, home of my debut, gentle and charming; San Francisco, almost Parisian in its esprit; picturesque New Orleans; sin- cere Chicago; knowing Washington; critical New York; aristocratic Phila- delphia—they differ just as do human beings, and are to me quite as fasci- inating a study. Marie Sundelius, the fascinating Swedish coloratura, tells me she is preparing a book on the| | subject out of her own experiences. } i Perhaps it might be well to !ly! | something about how we undertake jto go “on tour.” Most of us put our- iselves into the hands of a big “musi- cal bureau” that really manages us. Believe me, they are quite fierce as disciplinarians and treat us like chil- dren. They arrange our “booking” for the season and prepare a schedule ong in advance, trying to include as many towns near each other as possi- ble on Jhe trip. I usually leave New York for two or three weeks at a time and then return to rest for a week or so, but, of course, when I take my western coast tour or go far south I'm away for months. The bu- reau does everything for us, even to the extent of providing us with type- written instructions as to the trains we are supposed to catch (if we want to profit by the reservations they have made for us), the hotels we should repair to, and the individuals we should get in touch with as soon as we reach our destination. So that part of it at least is easy c=nough. What a pity they can't sing our con- certs for us, too! * % % ¥ BU’! hen the trouble begins for us! The missed connections, the room- less hotels, the adventures of one sort or another. One that befell Olive Kline, the popular English soprano, goes to illustrate what can and does | happen to a lone prima donna out among the ‘“provinces” She was traveling from one Michigan town to another, not far from Chicago. Half way between the two points the train came to an unexpected and abrupt stop and the amazed passengers were treated to a genuine “hold-up” of the wild west moviet variety. Olive was 10 exception, and a good many lovely things. including a pin given to her by Queen Victoria of Spain, fell prey to the bandi When a few hours later the be- lated train dragged itself into the town that was Olive's destination she descended penniless. An idea came [to her as she beheld a phonograph store across the way from the sta- jtion. She crossed to it hurriedly, ex- plained to the manager excitedly who she was. what had happened to her, and requested a “loan” of a few dol- lars until she reached somewhere or some one who could help repay it. But the shopkeeper was skeptical. “How do I know you're Olive Kline?” he demanded suspiciously. (Perhaps he'd been “touched” before!) Somewhat indignant at being doubted, but perhaps realizing its justification, she withheld any com- ments other than that he had her photograph in the phonograph cata- logue and could identify her by that. Struck by the idea, the doubter turned to her picture as requested, then to her, then back to the picture again. “M-m-m!" he mused. “This here picture might kinder be anybody!” Olive assures us that she didn’t swear—out loud, that is! Instead, she adjusted her sweetest smile, and re- plied: “Mr. Phonograph Man, I can see convinced. Tell you what let's do. Put on a record of mine, then stop it and let me go on! Perhaps then you'll-know I'm O. K" . The strategy worked. But it's a good thing she was quick witted or she might have starved to death! Of course, one isn't often held up. But there are aggravating little an- noyances that do occur and can oc- cur at any time, especially when least wanted. I'll never forget Albert Spalding’s adventure in Winston-Sa- lem, N. C. Anybody who knows the noted American violinist, who is al- ways immaculately dressed, notably so as against some of his forelgh confreres of the bow, will realize the full force of this sad tale: * k x * 4 M= SPALDING -had reached. town late—very late—and after dress- ing hurriedly in full evening dress, with glistening patent leather pumps, dived into a cab to be carried a con- siderable distance to the récital’ hall, which was on the outskirts of the town. When in the middle of the journey they came to a deserted, bleak section of the town, and began wallowing through the deepest kind of mire. When in the worst of it the cab, after billowing and tossing about like a ship in distress, stuck. Of course, there was then nothing that you're a man that likes to be e Heart of America Has Its Trials and Rewards CLAUDIA MUZIO, SOPHIE BRASLAU AND FRANCESCO DADDI SING A TRIO FOR THE BIRDS OF RAVIN. PARK, CHICAGO. to do but get out and push, which Mr. Spalding, his accompanist and the chauffeur proceeded to do, the artist supremely conscious of an au- dience that was already waiting foc him and probably growing impatient. After wallowing around in the mud until there was more of it on them than there was on the street, the ob- stinate taxi was jarred into motion, and the trip to the hall was feverishly resumed. The violinist’s accompanist spent his time trying to carve mud away from both of them. an achievement which, almost accomplished by the time the stage door was reached, sud- denly and horribly disclosed that both Mr. Spalding’s pumps had been left back in the mud! Needless to say, the eminent vio- linist did not treat his audience to {the spectacle of a virtuoso playing jin his stockinged feet! Had he done 50, they would probably have con- cluded it to be the very latest New York “stunt” for “greater art,” and would have tried it themselves. Whose shoes Mr. Spalding borrowed {1 don’t know, but I trust their fit was {not as trying to him as the awful {moments that must have preceded { the finding of them! The greatest music in the world goes in this sometimes humble and | unconventional fashion into “the heart of America.” America pays | well for and receives the finest mus | cal art that exists today. The great- est orchestras, soloists and instru- mentalists make it their mecca, and their toil and trouble are more than rewarded by the vast fortune that comes their way for doing it. | I hear that even the great Pade- | rewski may return to the concert stage, and that he has retired to his { ranch in Californfa to prepare for his new “debut” before the American | people. I am rather surprised to learn this, ‘and can only hope that it ‘is true. For, by chance, I heard the | greatest perhaps living maestro de- lclare that he “would never Play again.” The occasion was the great { testimonial concert given in honor of Marshel Joffre when the latter vis- ited this country in 1916. Among other artists, Mr. Paderew- ski had consented to play, and by an unlucky chance was actually on the stage and playing when Joffre and his party made a somewhat belated arrival into their box at the Metro- politan Opera House. , * ® ¥ % "THE famous pianist's sensitivéness to interruption is well known among musicians, and, in fact, audi- enges have seen him actually cease i playing if annoyed by inattention or noise. Unfortunately, but quite un- derstandably, the audience, carried away by enthusiasm, forgot the artist momentarily to do honor to the sol- dier and rose en masse to its feet and cheered. Paderewskl's face turned white, but he continued to the end of his number. He then left the stage and would not return. Those who were near him on the stage— and T was one of them—heard him exclaim that he would never play again. And, In fact, he has not played since that time. Whether or not it was because of that incident, I do not know. Of course, his patriotic duties to the new Polish republic have kept him busy, so that he had { little time to play. But it is a fact i that his devotion to his native land has drained his funds, gathered by years of patient labor, so that per- haps he may be compelled to return to the concert stage. However that may be, the news that he has changed | his mind and will play again is sure to be welcome everywhere. “Does a career such as yours inter- fere with marriage—with love How often have I been asked that question! 1 remember it so well on one occasion. I can still see the large brown, earnest eyes of my ques- ticner as we sat together—just she and I—in an “ice cream parior” in the heart of Idaho. She was no*more than nineteen, and a voice student with a sweet soprano, which I told her would go far. She was working ever so hard, but in the back of her mind dwelt tenaciously the thought of “her boy,” a student at Moscow University in Moscow, Idaho, where 1 had sung the night before. He was a fine chap. By chance he had led the students who had grouped them- selves together on the snow-filled street outside my hotel to serenade me after the concert with thelr own colleg~ «ongs, and I had met and liked him eo much. 1 “I have a little girl—who sings,” he had said, ever so hesitatingly, but proud of her just the same. ' So had I met her and learned of the intimate thing which was trou- bling them bath—the old, old question of whether or not a woman can wed art and love and do credit to both. 2 x x ' Y answer was the one I made in al such cases. If you do net feel the impulse of your love before ——— (Continae wedie on Sixth Page.) i 3