ANTONINA NEZHDANOVA 
By Olga Fyodorova
   Paris, May 12, 1912… “Mademoiselle Nezhdanova, may I have a few words with you in private? A few days from now you are having a debut at the Grand Opera. It’s very, very important for a young singer like you, especially now that you sing with the great Caruso himself! But I can make sure you are a success. Just give me 2,000 francs and I promise you a great round of applause when you’re through with your aria. People will be crying for an encore and you will have to sing it again and again… The audience will realize that a star is being born right before their very eyes!
   Don’t be surprised, the singers, they are all paying us because those who don’t, always regret it… And with pretty good reason too because we, claqueurs, can boo anyone off the stage, understand?”
   Flush-faced, Nezhdanova flatly refused to pay and, several days later, she was so impeccable on stage that the claqueurs simply didn’t dare to make a single catcall... 
   The following day the newspapers were filled with glowing reviews with one Parisian illustrated magazine providing the following sensational biography of the young Russian singer:
   “Nezhdanova grew up in a peasant’s family and sang each time she was working in the field. Once Grand Prince Boris Romanov was driving by and, thrilled by the beautiful girl, he took her to St.Petersburg, gave her a good education and helped her onto the stage of the city’s venerable Imperial Mariinsky Theater...”
   “Rubbish!” Nezhdanova said, reading the article and immediately sent out a protest to the editor. 
   “I grew up in a teacher’s family, not a peasant’s, and I never worked in the field,” she wrote. “I loved singing, that’s right, but the Grand Prince never heard me sing. Moreover, I never met him in my life!
    I finished the high school in Odessa from where I moved on to enter the Moscow Conservatory where, being one of their best students, I didn’t have to pay for my tuition.  I never had any sponsors and only used the professional help given me by professor Umberto Mazetti. 
   In 1902, still in Conservatory, I auditioned for the Bolshoi Theater only to find out they needed no more sopranos there.  I had apparently made an impression, though, because, a few months later, they asked me to stand in for a missing singer. I readily obliged and they paid me a hundred rubles.  Shortly after, they signed me on for a yearly salary of twelve hundred rubles – a paltry sum for someone singing in the Imperial Theater, but a real Godsend for a struggling Conservatory student like me…”
   Antonina Nezhdanova spent a staggering 30 years at the Bolshoi Theater a living legend who went down in the history of Russia’s oldest theater.
   She was lucky to have sung literally all and every part she ever dreamed of partnering on stage with Fyodor Chaliapin, Leonid Sobinov, Enrico Caruso, Tito Ruffo and other greats. Sergei Rakhmaninoff wrote for her and Bernard Shaw, Konstantin Stanislavsky and Artur Nikish were among her most devoted fans. 
   The Bolshoi’s young conductor Nikolai Golovanov fell head over heels in love the moment he heard her singing. He asked her to marry him and, even though he was 18 years her senior, Nezhdanova said yes. 
   The spouses raised many eyebrows living separately and financially independent from one another. They never allowed a trace of familiarity between them but their mutual tenderness and loving care for each other immediately betrayed a happy couple…
   Golovanov more than just an outstanding conductor, was a brilliant pianist too and from 1919 on, they invariably paired on stage  braving the rigors of the Civil War and the myriad of problems it entailed…
   Back in those days they usually paid musicians in flour and sugar – the two main staples to which Nezhdanova’s fans often added an occasional lump of butter and bundle of firewood.  Once they presented her a priceless gift of a saw, an axe and a couple of saucepans, one of them filled with honey.
   On September 8, 1924, there was something very unusual happening in the hushed and empty hall of the Bolshoi Theater in Moscow where the leading singers took turns walking up to a stage microphone and singing their best arias. They had every reason to be nervous, however, taking part in the first nationally-broadcast radio concert…
   Antonina Nezhdanova was also there and that first radio concert started off a long series of radio appearances whose pace quickened during World War Two with a record 58 dates done in 1942 alone! The voice of the nationally beloved singer eased the people’s pain and inspired in them hope for a better future…
   There was something magnetic about her voice. The old recordings predictably fail to give full credit to Nezhdanova’s extensive vocal palette, but according to eyewitness reports, the audiences literally idolized her. Without exaggeration, she was the best-loved singer in the entire history of the Bolshoi Theater. Even more surprising, Nezhdanova was equally idolized by her colleagues, which is not something you can often find in the performing community. 
    The following excerpt from her diary proves just how much she was loved and admired by her colleagues. 
   “In 1933 as I was marking my 60th birthday, I heard the Bolshoi’s leading singers taking turns for a whole four hours singing me praises. I was touched to the very bottom of my heart by their singing and heartfelt congratulations.
   In the evening they were holding a birthday party in the Bolshoi. At 6 p.m. a bunch of our lead singers dropped by my place, flowers in hand, and led me downstairs and into a car, filled with flowers. When we reached the theater I saw that the streetcars had all ground to a halt and the whole square was filled with people. A wind orchestra blared out a march, the next moment the cheering crowd lifted me up and brought inside the building. When I walked out on stage they gave me deafening round of applause, which lasted for a whole 10 minutes and only subsided when I began to sing…
   Up until the very end Antonina Nezhdanova kept working hard teaching at the Moscow Conservatory, sitting on competition juries and on the expert council of Moscow’s Museum of Music, writing memoirs about fellow musicians she knew and advising young singers…
   “There are many people out there who say that, to save your voice, you shouldn’t sing too much. I don’t think so. You should spare your voice, no doubt about that, but only from what is really bad for it, such as alcohol, cigarettes, spices, from singing on an empty stomach or immediately after meals. The voice needs continuous honing and polishing and to be successful you should use your brains and work with desire, hope and loving care…”
 
Copyright © 2001 The Voice of Russia