"I came out to inquire whether Annie would like to go to the opera tonight," said Mr. Maldon, turning to her. "It's the last good night there will be, this season; and there's a singer there, whom she really ought to hear. She is perfectly exquisite. Besides which, she is so charmingly ugly," relapsing into languor.The only singer contemporary to Dickens it could be would have to be Pauline Viardot.
I'm rather new to Dickens, and though I have certainly observed that he had a great enjoyment of music, I never would have imagined that he would have been close friends with Pauline Viardot. He first met her after a performance of Gluck's Orphée, (she played the title role, which is written for a mezzo-soprano) and Dickens wrote about the encounter to his friend John Forster (Nonesuch Letters, 3.322):
Last night I saw Madame Viardot do Gluck's Orphée. It is a most extrordinary performance--pathetic in the highest degree, and full of quite sublime acting. Though it is unapproachably fine from first to last, the beginning of it, at the tomb of Eurydice, is a thing that I cannot remember at this moment of writing, without emotion. It is the finest presentation of grief that I can imagine. And when she has received hope from the Gods, and encouragement to go into the other world and seek Eurydice, Viardot's manner of taking the relinquished lyre from the tomb, and becoming radiant again, is most noble. Also she recognizes Eurydice's touch, when at length the hand is put in hers from behind, like a most transcendant [sic] genius. And when, yielding to Eurydice's entreaties she has turned round and slain her with a look, her despair over the body is grand in the extreme. It is worth a journey to Paris to see, for there is no such Art to be otherwise looked upon. Her husband stumbled over me by mere chance, and took me to her dressing-room. Nothing could have happened better as a genuine homage to the performance, for I was disfigured with crying.They soon became very close friends.
Shortly after finishing Bleak House I had the idea of writing some musical character studies featuring characters in the novel, but now that I am in the middle of David Copperfield, my cast of possible musical characters has expanded a great deal.
Once I get out of the hospital and my stay close to the hospital (on 53rd Street in Chicago), and can get my hands on my viola d'amore, I will get to work on a piece for three violas d'amore (to be played at the 2027 viola d'amore congress) inspired by some of the characters I have come to know.
I am certainly not the first person to do this, but I might be the first to write Dickens-inspired pieces for three violas d'amore. I do imagine that Dickens would be enchanted by the instrument.
Here is a passage from a paper by Charles Cudworth that was published in the June, 1970 edition of The Musical Times (Vol. 111, p. 589):
Dickens was not only intersted in music himself; he also provoked music in others. During his lifetime, his novels fostered some curious musical offspring, such as The David Copperfield Polka and The Barnaby Rudge Tarantelle, to say nothing of The Micawber Quadrille, "played in the drama of Little Em'ly, at the Olympic Theatre," in 1869.
