Stars of the Opera A Description of Operas & a Series of Personal Interviews with Marcela Sembrich, Emma Eames, Emma Calvé, Lillian Nordica, Lilli Lehmann, Geraldine — Key Ideas to Explore

Alternating Structure: Plot and Person

The book's organization is its most distinctive feature. Each opera chapter ends with a transition to a personal interview: after describing Traviata, Wagnalls presents her conversation with Marcella Sembrich; after Aida, she turns to Lillian Nordica. This pairing creates a dialogue between the written score and the living artist. In the Aida excerpt, Wagnalls dissects Verdi's use of unresolved cadences and the "pagan use of the monotone" in Aida's solo, then later in the Nordica interview (not shown) the singer likely discusses how she navigates those same musical challenges. The structure implies that an opera is not complete until it is performed, and that the singer's interpretation is as crucial as the composer's notation.

Recurring Images: Water and Waves

Wagnalls repeatedly uses water imagery to describe vocal and orchestral effects. In the Aida excerpt, she writes that Aida's distress "agitates the music like the passing of a great ship over tranquil waters" and that the melody "rises and falls like waves in the wake of a vessel." This metaphor appears in other chapters: in the Carmen section (not shown), she may describe Bizet's music with similar fluidity. The wave motif ties together the emotional arcs of heroines—Aida's longing, Carmen's defiance—and suggests that the music itself moves with a natural, inexorable force. Wagnalls also uses the image of a "sacred fire" spreading through the temple chorus, contrasting liquid and flame as twin energies of opera.

Movement Between Scenes: From Intimate to Monumental

Wagnalls pays close attention to how operas shift between private emotion and public spectacle. In Aida, she contrasts the trio of Amneris, Aida, and Rhadames—where jealousy and fear are whispered—with the grand consecration scene, where "bassos, tenors, soloists, and chorus" unite in a rondo. She notes that the temple scene "has little to do with the plot" but contains some of Verdi's finest music, acknowledging that opera often pauses narrative for sheer sonic grandeur. Similarly, in the Traviata chapter (not shown), she likely moves from Violetta's solitary aria to the ballroom chorus. This awareness of scale—from a single voice to a full ensemble—shapes her descriptions and helps the reader visualize the stage.

The Singer's Physical Presence

Wagnalls does not treat singers as disembodied voices. She remarks that "very few prima donnas look well under coffee-colored cosmetic" for Aida, but Nordica's appearance does not suffer. This practical observation grounds the art in the body: a singer must look the part as well as sing it. In the interview with Sembrich (not shown), she likely discusses vocal technique or role preparation. The book thus balances the abstract beauty of music with the concrete realities of performance—makeup, costumes, stage lighting. Wagnalls also notes the photographs included in the volume, which show the singers in costume, reinforcing the visual dimension of opera.

Readers may find it useful to read an opera chapter and its corresponding interview in sequence, noting where Wagnalls's musical observations align with or diverge from the singer's own comments. The book does not require prior knowledge of opera; its plot summaries are self-contained. However, those familiar with the works will appreciate the specific details—such as the harp's pulsating chords in the temple scene—that Wagnalls highlights. The interviews, proofread by the singers themselves, offer a rare glimpse into the artists' perspectives at the height of their careers.

There’s something tender about reading those old interviews—how Calvé or Lehmann spoke of their roles like old friends. It makes me think of the opera house as a hush of longing, much like the quiet ache in Amadis of Gaul, an opera As it is perform'd at the King's Theatre in the Hay-market — Background and Themes. Both feel like whispers from a stage already gone dark.