Popova: Giacomo Lauri-Volpi    | 3 of 3 |
 
   
   

In contradistinction from the majority of his countrymen, Lauri-Volpi didn't suffer from religiousness. While such famous singers as Riggiani (Leonora in "Il Trovatore" and Aida in Verdi's opera of the same name) and the coloratura soprano Pedrini (Gilda in "Rigoletto") were devotees and absurdly superstitious. Walls of their rooms were iconned from floor to ceiling. Thus, in a day of a performance, they could follow their tradition and, crossing, praying and kowtowing in religious ecstasy before icons, ask the Lord for his help in their successful singing of this or that difficult aria. The most picturesque sight – according to the quantity of icons – was Riggiani's room. She was a well-grown and grand woman, possessing a powerful dramatic soprano voice and reliable soniferous high notes. At each of her appearances on the stage, the audience felt certain and calm, that any note would be sung easily and beautifully, as it had been originally conceived by the composer. I had several occasions to perform with her in different performances and I can't recollect even a single case when she let out a squeak or was out of tune. Even though Riggiani on the stage was always precise, and sang in tune and preserved an equal mind, before each performance she thrilled and shook with fear. During a tour, her trunk with icons constantly followed the singer. Among sacred images there were lots of Slavonic works, decorated with gold and silver. But the real pride of the soprano was a big Byzantine icon, inlaid with rubies, sapphires, turquoise and small diamonds. Riggiani believed that her icon possessed miraculous strength, saying that when she was in bad voice, only the sacred image helped her to successfully sing in a difficult performance.

As for Pedrini, who sang the part of Gilda and with whom I happened to take part in the South American Tour, she was absolutely inseparable with her small white fluffy doggy. For Pedrini this doggy was the closest friend and a questionless oracle. The singer was in the habit of permanent talking to her toy dog, asking questions as if she spoke to her eminent vocal teacher. Before a spectacle, changing in her tiring-room, she would ask her doggy if the forthcoming performance would go successfully, if she would sing her main aria well, if she should give the audience an encore to her aria and so on. In reply the doggy was cheerfully barking and briskly wagging the tail. To demonstrate her pet's ear for music, Pedrini organized a special dog show. Having invited an accompanist, the singer sang several songs and arias. Every time, when she sang a false note – of course, on purpose – the doggy barked furiously. The worst was singing out of tune, the more frenziedly barked the doggy. This talent of a small four-legged creature won the hearts of all the company and we, in eager rivalry, demonstrated his makings to our colleagues. The Lauri-Volpis also cordially met the doggy. Maria patently sympathized with animals. As for Giacomo, though the singer wasn't in particular sympathetic with them and indulgently looked at similar human weakness, even he couldn't help accepting, so to say, definite professional musical abilities of our doggy-phenomenon.

 

 
 Lauri-Volpi with Miguel Fleta. Source: A. Bouliguine  
   

 

During our joint tour in Monte Carlo, the city didn't scant its usual sensations. Now I have already forgotten the name of that millionaire, the owner of the hotel, where we stayed at, but then his suicide shocked everybody. In those days, lots of presuppositions and gossips relative to the motives of his suicide were circulating. From my point of view, the most believable version is that his death was linked with his fatal passion – he was in love with the most elegant and interesting woman in the hotel. It seemed, that the nature had endowed this woman with all its largesse, but joy and humour. Her wonderfully beautiful eyes glistered with apathy, indifference, satiety and coldness. Two days before the suicide she left the hotel, as sudden as she had appeared there. For a long time after the incident, people in Monte Carlo were tattling about this death. As for us, soon work again absorbed our attention and we had no time for chit-chat.

The performances "Il Trovatore" and "Aida" went over with a bang. Each of the soloists after singing his aria or duet was honoured with ovation, lasting more than five minutes. It was rather difficult to say in such a situation that any of the leading singers were better or worse, because the audience was delighted with all the soloists. Performing among such a cast of singers, the star of Lauri-Volpi couldn't no longer glare with the same dazzle he had gotten accustomed to. Naturally, the famous tenor, used to absolutely dominate the audience and enjoy exclusive honours, didn't like this situation. Giacomo didn't wish to share the success with others and finally, not having sung all the contracted parts, let the impresario know of his decision to leave. The news caused terrible alarm behind the scenes, because nobody knew the true reason for such a step. As for Lauri-Volpi and his relations with his colleagues, he, like a thoroughbred gentleman, continued to conduct himself very correctly towards them. No sooner had Giacomo left for Monte Carlo, when the leading tenor of the Parisian Grand-Opera appeared in our hotel, specially invited to participate in the two last performances of the season. Lauri-Volpi carried himself with ease and friendliness, as if nothing had happened. Cordially bidding his farewell, he went to Rome.

After his departure we often discussed, in a friendly circle, what exactly had made him leave Monte Carlo. To my mind, the singer seemed to be tired, moreover, the recent incident with his Es, clearly demonstrated that he needed some rest and relaxation. But, probably, the true reason was the powerful voice of Stefanescu-Goanga. Courageous, with some metal in sounding, this voice won the hearts of the audience in "Rigoletto" and "Il Trovatore" and, I suppose, could at some extent confuse the tenor. Lauri-Volpi rather preferred to take care of his voice, than force it, competing with other talented vocalists. I believe that exactly this was the reason of his retreat from the "Battle-field," however, Giacomo himself didn't explain the motives for his decision.

I met Lauri-Volpi again in the Grand Opera. As well as Gina Cigna and Giacomo Lauri-Volpi, I had been incorporated in the cast of "Aida." All three performances went over with a bang. I was particularly impressed by the attitude of the Parisians towards the singers of the Grand Opera, one of the soloists which I was then. Now I often think: "It would be wonderful, if the audience of our Sofia's Opera was like the Parisians…" The next day the Lauri--Volpis and Gina Cigna were my guests. Thus, there was lain the foundations of our kind and friendly relations.

Every time I came to Italy, especially to Rome, I stayed at the Lauri-Volpis' residence. They had a luxurious mansion in the centre of the city, furnished with articles of the antique (Greek and Roman amphorae, vases and vessels) and furniture, rococo and Empire. Giacomo had a collection of original pictures by artists of the Renaissance and by modern young painters. Lauri-Volpi did not like modernism, neither in painting, nor in music. I often saw him standing before a landscape, where there was pictured a tempest "like this canvas, because here you indeed feel a real tempest, perturbing and frightening" – he would say. Then we stopped in front of the other landscape. "This picture fills a soul with a sense of peace and romantic dreams. When I look at it, I relax and indulge in reverie… Such must be any art. And music is no exception: even the most difficult aria will easily flow from a soul and a throat, if the melody is beautiful and vivid and the emotions, which this melody expresses, are honest and sincere. A heart and a throat of a singer should mutually understand and feel each other. Nuances in singing are nothing else than thrill of heart, causing vibrations of air, which, in its turn, passes through vocal cords. Therefore, while singing, a throat should be widely open, only thus will there be born beautiful and clear sounds. If a throat is forced and suppressed, it produces constrained sounds, making listeners hearts nervously cower, while a part itself loses its clear outlines and stops to influence the audience," explained Lauri-Volpi.

Regarding his comprehension of a vocal school and its role for a vocalist, Giacomo affirmed, that only right technique could open and develop the high notes and a great range. He also added that an "academic approach," appeared no sooner than a vocalist had deeply known himself, his essence and peculiarity. The tenor affirmed that a singer-beginner should imitate nobody, as imitation itself spoils a voice, depersonalizes a vocal image, and annihilates the artist inside man. When somebody would say to Lauri-Volpi, that this or that tenor tried to imitate his manner of sounding and colouring of a vocal phrase, he resented and resolutely claimed: "This singer will not be a great man! He will not leave any memory behind!"

At home Giacomo was a rather good mixer. Here, unfortunately not very often, you could meet other famous people from the art world. Lauri-Volpi always carefully chose people, worthy of his society. Just a favoured few were honoured with his full confidence. I still have the deep-rooted belief, that in his early days the tenor greatly suffered from his trustfulness, and, having gone through many heavy disappointments, became too carping and suspicious towards people. Then, during my repeated tours at the Milanese "La Scala" and when I sang on other Italian stages I met the Lauri-Volpis several times. By that time Giacomo hadn't performed on the operatic stage regularly for some time – he devoted himself to training young singers and writing works on vocal mastery, which, obviously, are well-known to you, my dear inquiring readers.

 

Глава из книги болгарской певицы (меццо-сопрано) Илки Поповой «Встречи на оперной сцене», изданной в 1972 году в Софии. Перевод на английский язык Ольги Беспрозванной ( Россия).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
Photos: Top: The front cover of Popova's book, "Meetings on the Operatic Stage." Source: Alexey Bouliguine. Below: Lauri-Volpi doing sports. Source: Roberto Scandurra.
   
    
 
   
   
   
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Credits  
   
Written by: Ilka Popova (1905-1979)
First published
on Grandi Tenori:
14 August 2004
Source: «Meetings on an opera stage» (Sofia, 1972)
Translation: Olga Besprozvannaya
Realization: Alexey Bouliguine
Last modified: --
References: --
Further reading: --
 
   
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