Sims Reeves, the Prince of Tenors.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 176, 30 October 1886, Page 4 (Supplement)

Sims Reeves, the Prince of Tenors.

It has been said that no man dies but his place is at once filled up. The remark is undoubtedly true, but how often, alas ! are mon less worthy substituted for those who are taken from us. Mr Sims Reeves is happily still living, but his conceft appearances are now ao few that he may almost be said to have retired from public life. The place occupied by a great singer such as Mr Sims Reeves is not easily filled, and, as a matter of fact, there is no singer now before the public who is fitted to step into his ?hoea. Tenor voices of the fir*t quality and of the best cultivation are exceedingly rare, and when these are found it is seldom that they unite all the qualities which go to make a truly successful vocalist. For it must be remembered that the popularity of Sims Reeves has not been won by the beauty of his voice alone. It is due also in a great measure to the pathos and fr eling which he has always put into his songs, giving them a eoul and an expression which most singers would have fai'ed to instil into their renderings. Singers are too apt to look at the music alone, forgetting that the poetry had the earlier existence, and that it should have at least equal consideration. Sims Reeves has always made a habit of studying the words of his songs most carefully. He reads them and phrases them in every posipiblo way, asking himself what they mean, and interpreting them according to his own inner feelings. Describing his method some years ago, he says : — " I walk up and down, trying this line and trying that, until I teel that I have struck? the right idea, but I ain never satisfied. Nowadays singers do not study elo cution eufficently, if at all. The worda are sacrificed to the music ; in inv method they are of equal importance." Yes, and this is the key-note of the success of Sims Reeves, Nature having first endowed him with one of the finest tenor voices she had I it in her power to bestow. To those who have heard the great tenor only in recent years this eulogy may appear a little strained ; but it must be remembered that Reeves is not now a young man — he is 64 years old— and naturally his voice is beginning to show the effects of age and constant wear. John Sims Reeves is the =on of a musician, and was born at a place called Shooter's Rill, in Kent, on October 21, 1822. His father was his firBt musical instructor, and he appears to have guided his son's studies in a thoroughly practical manner, for the boy succeeded in gaining an organist's appointment before he was fifteen years of age. At this time, of course, his voice had not attained its maturity, and it was not until he reached the age of seventeen that the dipcovery of his great vocal abilities was made. His first appearance as a singer was in 1839 at the Theatre Royal, Neweastle-upon-Tyne, when he took the part of Count Rudolf o, In Bellini's opera of " La Sonambula." Alter this he placed himself under the care of two experienced voice trainers, and did nots sing in public again until 1841 f whe,n he became a member of the celebrated Macready's company at the equally celebrated Drury Lan6 Theatre But he did not consider his voice cultiva'<t&«f'yet perfect, and so he went to the Continent in pursuance of further training. On hia return to England in 1847 he was engaged by Jullien — of military band fame —who has juet opened Drury Lane Theatre as an English opera house, and here Sims Keeves made what maybe called his first appearance as a vocalist in London His part was that of Edgar in "Lucia di Latnmermoor," and so well did he acquit himself that he wa* at once -accorded a position as an actor and a singer of the very first rank. *' His voice," writes a contemporary critic, '•had beoome a pure high tenor of delicious quality! the tones vibrating, and, equal throughout, very skilfully .. iranagedi and displaying remarkably good taste

His deportment as an actor was naturaK and easy;, his aotion manly, and, to the purpose, and exhibiting, both passion and power without the least exaggeration." We neednob follow the great singer throughout the course of the brilliant career which followed. We shall only stay to note that the greatest triumph was gained at the Crystal Palace Handel Festival in 1857* when he sang " The enemy said " from "Israel in Egypt," with such remarkable power, fire, and volume of voice, breadth of style, and evenness of vocalisation as completely electrified his hearers. On the stage and on the concert platform he has been uniformly successful in all styles, from the simplest ballad to the most complex modern grand production. Mr Reeves married in 1850. Miss Lucombe, a soprano singer of considerable merit. His son Herbert made a successful first appearance as a singer in 1880, and has already met with much favour from thojpublio. His voice is not strong, but it is of the finest quality, while his taste, intelligence, and phrasing are all worthy of his honoured parent, who had a considerable share in his vocal training. This is probably as much dry biography as my readers care to have regarding the famous tenor. Let us now, therefore, indulge in a little social talk about some of his habits— talk "just as easy and just as formal as I choose to make it," as the "Autocrat of the Breakfast Table" eaysj Everybody knows how frequently Sims Reeves has disappointed his audience by not appearing when he had been advertised to do so ; but everybody is not right in coming to the conclusion that little more than caprice is at the bottom of the matter. The truth is, Sims Reeves is a victim to incipient gour, which more frequently flies to his throat than to his big toe. If he ate and drank largely, as some singers do, he might succeed in driving the malady downwards, but he lives a very quiet and abstemious life, as is evidenced by the long time he has retained his powers almost unimpaired. The public have to be disabused of the idea that the great tenor is a bird who sometimes can sing, who won't sing but who must barnacle to sing. It is a fact that Sim Ree^Sjl has lost within twentyeight years, in round figures, £80,000 by engagements unfulfilled on account of his throat. He has sacrificed that sum rather than appear before the public with the least symptom of hoarseness, or otherwise than at his best. Of course there are many artists — we have aU heard such, alas, too often! — who will sing even if they be as hoarse as we might suppose Poe's raven to have been ; but it does them more harm than good, and, physically, nothing strains the voice more. In reply to someone who tendered him advice regarding the treatment of his vocal organs so as to avoid frequent attacks of hoarseness, Sim Reeves paid, "I am my own doctor, and you may be sure I know my own throat, the ills it is subjected to, and the remedies that are needed better than anyone can tell me." The private life of Sims Reeves is very much like that of a hermit. It is not long since Mrs Reeves, in a conversation which afterwards got into print, mentioned that during all her married life she and her husband had not gone out to more than a dozen dinner parties. The public really know very little of the great self-denial which Sims Reeves has practised during his long career, or the privations he has suffered. There are many people who have a desire to know what great singers eat and drink. To these it may be interesting to state that Sims Reeves takes only two meals a day — breakfast and dinner. When he is to sing in the evening he takes the first meal at eleven and the latter at halt-past four. When the performance is over his repast consists of two lightly boiled new-laid eggs. Claret and water is his favourite drink, and if he doeR want a fillip — which, however, is but seldom - he takes a glass of stout. " Of course," says our hero himself, " when I am not singing 1 enjoy a glass of champagne as well as anybody. After a * performance nothing soothes me like a cigarette, and I am extremely fond of tobacco." A game of billiards ai.d a hand at dummy whist are two of Mr Reeves's favourite amusements. In eonnection with the modest culinary requirements of the Reeves household a little story is told regarding the engagement of a cook by Mrs Reeves. The mistress of the ranges and the roasts was duly engaged, but when she learned that her master was the great tenor she became quite alarmed at the prospect of her duties. '•Why," she paid pathetically, "you'll want a sight of hot suppers, won't you, mum ?" Hot supper?, indeed ! And yet that eeokr don't you think, reader, had a sympathetic spirit. Imagine that anticlimax — that an Edgardo or a Count Rudolfo should go home to a modest supper of two new-laid eggs. Mr Sims Reeves is well known to have an inveterate hatred of encores. Here is hig opinion on the subject in his own words. He had been asked why he so frequently refused to sing again when his audience loudly called for a second appearance. He doeB not proceed at once to reply, a« will'be seen. " Why," he eaya, " even when going down to the concert room I am often over come my nervousness, and— wish the cab would up^set and be done with it. My heart does not jump to my throat or beat at an abnormal rate, but a tremor besets my limbs and I tell you it is from sheer anviaty to be at my best DuriDg the concert I avoid everybody, take a quiet corner and commune with myself, taking, perhaps a glycerine lozenge, and very often holding a handkerchief to my mouth. Regarding the question of encores, I am glad to sing again if it is a new work or a new song. Or. euppope I feel that I have done justice, perhaps to myself, perhaps to the piece— that is, justice as I interpret it — then I like to repeat my song. Or, sometimes if the audience has been more than usually appreciative and repaonsive, it is an intense pleasure to me to gratify them by giving them another song. Bu+, to put it in a matter-of-fact way, and to adopt metaphor, 1 keep a shop— you ask me for t.wenty-five yard* of stik, and pay me for fifteen only. No ; I am paid to ning three or four songs, and I decline to sing aix or peven. There is a class of concert-goers — a grasping, greedy cla^p — who come .to hear me, and say to themselves, * Wg have paid our money, let us get as much for it as we can.' This is the class I have alwaj T s held in contempt, and it is that I have often felt their presence thathas impelled me to take a firm course/' — " People's Friend."