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Browsing named entities in a specific section of James Parton, Horace Greeley, T. W. Higginson, J. S. C. Abbott, E. M. Hoppin, William Winter, Theodore Tilton, Fanny Fern, Grace Greenwood, Mrs. E. C. Stanton, Women of the age; being natives of the lives and deeds of the most prominent women of the present gentlemen. Search the whole document.

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Michael Angelo (search for this): chapter 22
ists seek change or diversion, she finds her recreation in her beloved instrument. On being asked whether she composed for her violin, she answered, Yes, some little pieces,--the Mother's Prayer, the Dream,--but they are nothing. It is enough for me to render the works of the great masters. In her childlike devotion to the genius of Beethoven, Chopin, and Mendelssohn, she reminds one of Hilda, the girl-artist of Hawthorne's Marble Faun, whose life was spent in study of Raphael and Michael Angelo. It is better, thinks this earnest woman, to render vocal the great conceptions of the past, than to win a cheap reputation by fleeting musical mediocrities. Her remarkable memory retains all the music she plays, the orchestral parts as well as her own. Madame Urso's stay in this country is now uncertain. Her latest performances have been in the New England cities, and in New York. She has accepted an engagement in California, and will probably leave for San Francisco in July.
Charles Auchester (search for this): chapter 22
Camilla Urso Mary A. Betts. The violin is the violet, says the Chevalier Seraphael in that most imaginative and fantastic of musical novels, Charles Auchester. How came the fancy to the writer's brain? Was it because the violet, with its trembling blue petal and its evanescent fragrance, reminds one of the woods, the mingling harmonies of brook and bird-voice, of wind-swept trees and restless wind? Or, was it because to the artist the violet was the most perfect of flowers and the violin of instruments? An instrument it certainly is of torture and delight. How we have all groaned at the melancholy squeaks of a poor fiddle in the street! With what a rapture have we followed the violins in the orchestra, as their penetrating and aerial tones completed for us the harmonic pictures or the wordless songs! And in the hands of a genius whose thoughtful brain and ardent heart have comprehended and mastered its powers, what a magical shell is this crooked, stringed, sonorous th
Baden (search for this): chapter 22
years of training were interrupted by a series of concerts in the departments and a three months tour hi Germany. This was a special indulgence, as pupils of the Conservatoire are not allowed to play in public. Camilla performed at Heidelberg, Baden-Baden, and Mayence, receiving everywhere the recognition due to an artist, not to a prodigy. That German public, so devoted to music in its highest forms, led by masters of such varied genius, took the child to its heart. Nobles and princes paiBaden, and Mayence, receiving everywhere the recognition due to an artist, not to a prodigy. That German public, so devoted to music in its highest forms, led by masters of such varied genius, took the child to its heart. Nobles and princes paid her compliments and bestowed beautiful presents upon her. A countess, who took the most affectionate interest in her, insisted on giving her an ornament she had worn at her own confirmation,--a large cross of pearls attached to a long chain of red coral. From these triumphs she returned to Paris and her studies with Massart. In a few months she appeared at the public concerts of Paris, at the Salle Herz, the Societe Polytechnique, the Conservatoire, and the Association of Musical Artists.
Beethoven (search for this): chapter 22
past, but steadily works her way to new laurels. Seven and eight hours a day is her usual time of practice, and in the long summer days, when other artists seek change or diversion, she finds her recreation in her beloved instrument. On being asked whether she composed for her violin, she answered, Yes, some little pieces,--the Mother's Prayer, the Dream,--but they are nothing. It is enough for me to render the works of the great masters. In her childlike devotion to the genius of Beethoven, Chopin, and Mendelssohn, she reminds one of Hilda, the girl-artist of Hawthorne's Marble Faun, whose life was spent in study of Raphael and Michael Angelo. It is better, thinks this earnest woman, to render vocal the great conceptions of the past, than to win a cheap reputation by fleeting musical mediocrities. Her remarkable memory retains all the music she plays, the orchestral parts as well as her own. Madame Urso's stay in this country is now uncertain. Her latest performances
Mary A. Betts (search for this): chapter 22
Camilla Urso Mary A. Betts. The violin is the violet, says the Chevalier Seraphael in that most imaginative and fantastic of musical novels, Charles Auchester. How came the fancy to the writer's brain? Was it because the violet, with its trembling blue petal and its evanescent fragrance, reminds one of the woods, the mingling harmonies of brook and bird-voice, of wind-swept trees and restless wind? Or, was it because to the artist the violet was the most perfect of flowers and the violin of instruments? An instrument it certainly is of torture and delight. How we have all groaned at the melancholy squeaks of a poor fiddle in the street! With what a rapture have we followed the violins in the orchestra, as their penetrating and aerial tones completed for us the harmonic pictures or the wordless songs! And in the hands of a genius whose thoughtful brain and ardent heart have comprehended and mastered its powers, what a magical shell is this crooked, stringed, sonorous thi
Boston (search for this): chapter 22
aprice of Vieuxtemps. From Paris she went to Arras, Boulogne, Valenciennes, and Cambray. At Boulogne she appeared at two successive concerts given by the Musical Society of that town,--a circumstance almost unknown in the records of the society. After spending fourteen months abroad, she returned to America, where she has remained ever since. Her life since then has been the same story of travel, study, and concerts. She has become a great favorite both in the East and West. What Boston thinks of her may be understood from the fact that she has given more than one hundred concerts in that city. There she feels herself entirely at home, surrounded by sympathetic and appreciative friends. One of the sincerest and most highly prized of all tributes to her musical accomplishments is a letter, which was addressed to her, after a concert in Music Hall, by the musicians of the orchestra of the Harvard Association: -- We, the undersigned, members of the musical profession in
John Bull (search for this): chapter 22
etricious as it is inartistic, but seldom has such an airy spirit of humor expressed itself through the violin. A little story found its way into the Musical Gazette recently, which is so characteristic that it ought to be quoted entire. Ole Bull, Camilla Urso, and Miss Alida Topp met at a party, a few evenings since. You play beautifully, my child, said the Norwegian to Miss Topp, but you can't do the greatest music. No woman can; it takes the biceps of a man. My arm is strong enough, answered the brilliant young pianist, laughing; I break my pianos as well as a man could, and Steinway has to send me a new one every week. You see, responded Ole Bull, turning to Madame Urso, you see how these people treat their pianos.--They bang them, they beat them, they kick them, they smash them to pieces; but our fiddles I how we love them I Oh, yes, indeed, was Camilla's earnest answer, with a flash of her most expressive eyes. Her fiddles are three, her favorite one being
Camilla (search for this): chapter 22
into the air with triumph. For three years Camilla studied almost incessantly. No advantages wef Europe, has probably forgotten the pledge. Camilla has never reminded him of it, preferring to dting Faugas to be a swindler. The moneys for Camilla's services were not forthcoming, and the engaor Urso accepted the overtures of Sontag, and Camilla joined her at Cincinnati, in December, 1853. dresses, and cared for me in everything. Camilla accompanied Madame Sontag to New Orleans, wheNew Orleans Madame Sontag went to Mexico, and Camilla never saw her again. They parted in March, 1ille, Signor Urso remaining in New York, when Camilla discovered that the contract was not to be fua young girl scarcely fifteen years old! But Camilla's courage and resources were fully equal to ters of music sometimes give their opinions of Camilla's playing in remarks equally earnest, though I how we love them I Oh, yes, indeed, was Camilla's earnest answer, with a flash of her most ex[2 more...]
Chopin (search for this): chapter 22
t steadily works her way to new laurels. Seven and eight hours a day is her usual time of practice, and in the long summer days, when other artists seek change or diversion, she finds her recreation in her beloved instrument. On being asked whether she composed for her violin, she answered, Yes, some little pieces,--the Mother's Prayer, the Dream,--but they are nothing. It is enough for me to render the works of the great masters. In her childlike devotion to the genius of Beethoven, Chopin, and Mendelssohn, she reminds one of Hilda, the girl-artist of Hawthorne's Marble Faun, whose life was spent in study of Raphael and Michael Angelo. It is better, thinks this earnest woman, to render vocal the great conceptions of the past, than to win a cheap reputation by fleeting musical mediocrities. Her remarkable memory retains all the music she plays, the orchestral parts as well as her own. Madame Urso's stay in this country is now uncertain. Her latest performances have been
Yankee Doodle (search for this): chapter 22
ret far beyond the sentimental lament of Moore's song. Not a movement disturbed the flow of the melody. The quiet of sadness seemed to hold the listeners. The music ceased, she bowed once more, but the audience would not permit a withdrawal. She seemed unwilling, at first, to respond to this encore,--this tribute often more tiresome than flattering. But, after a minute's indecision, the violin went up to her shoulder again, and the very genius of fun seemed to possess it. She played Yankee Doodle, but the spirit of the monotonous old tune was surely transmigrated into a robin, drunk with the intoxicating air of some June morning. It was surely a bird who took up the quaint refrain, and repeated it again and again with mocking variations in frolicsome abandonment. The audience, a few minutes ago half ready to weep, laughed and applauded by turns, in full sympathy with the versatile artist. Players often execute tricks with the strings that are laughter-provoking, mere legerdema
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