Cinderella of the Opera

A remarkable journey from a Polish village to the Adirondack Mountains

Story and Photos by Benjamin Pomerance

Franz Liszt couldn't believe his ears. The fifteen-year-old girl seated next to him on the piano bench hadn't really said that, had she? She was only some Polish peasant girl who had been brought to him by an old friend who insisted the legendary composer hear the small girl play. Prepared to hear the choppy tones of a novice's etude, Liszt was astounded when the young pupil asked, "Bach or Beethoven, master, Schumann or Chopin?" Restraining his laughter, the old master glibly responded, "So you have a repertoire?" "Yes," the young girl replied. "Perhaps you would like to hear some Liszt?"

Before Liszt could think of a biting retort, the girl had launched into the ostentatious introduction of the composer's own Hungarian Rhapsody No. 12. Liszt, one of history's finest pianists, was left speechless. Half jokingly, he inquired if the girl could play anything else. To his amazement, she removed an old violin from its case and performed a Wieniawski caprice, her skill on the violin equal to that on the piano.

"Sing for the world, for you have the voice of an angel!"

"Anything else?" the stunned musician asked. Without saying a word, she burst into the heart-wrenching strains of a Polish folk song. Liszt was moved to tears. When the girl finished her song, he burst into enthusiastic applause.

"My little angel," Liszt exclaimed. "God has given you three pairs of wings with which to fly through the country of music. They are all equal: give up none of them, but sing! Sing for the world, for you have the voice of an angel!"

Four years after meeting Liszt in Vienna, Marcelline Kochanska began to sing for the world. She began with an 1877 debut on the Athens opera stage, a rousing success. Three years later, she was singing in the most hallowed operatic halls of Europe, receiving rave reviews from the Queen of England, Czar Nicholas II and Johannes Brahms. Ten years after her first voice lesson, she had a new name—Marcella Sembrich—and a new identity, the prima donna of the Metropolitan Opera. Today, the world remembers Marcella Sembrich as one of the finest performers in opera history.

Times were not always so grand for Marcella Sembrich. Born Marcelline Kochanska into an impoverished Polish family in 1858, Marcelline's musical gifts were first noticed by her father, who brought his daughter to study at the Lemberg Conservatory at the age of eleven. Seeing her threadbare appearance, the director took pity on her and invited young Marcelline to play for him. By the end of the year, she was his prize pupil.

In 1873, Marcelline began taking voice lessons for the first time. Four years later, soon after her operatic debut, 19-year-old Marcelline married her teacher, Guillame Stengel. Many doubted the success of the young singer's marriage to a man many years her senior, but Stengel and Marcelline would not part until death.

Ten years later, Marcelline, now known to European audiences as Marcella Sembrich, arrived in America to appear in the second performance of New York's new Metropolitan Opera House. She instantly carved her niche in the American opera scene, wowing audiences with her portrayal of Lucia in Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor. After her Metropolitan debut, New York music critic Henry Krehbiel wrote, "We have witnessed the beginning of a remarkable performer."

"We have witnessed the beginning of a remarkable performer."

There was no stopping the rising star of Marcella Sebmbrich. Singing leading roles in Europe and New York each season, the dynamic coloratura ascended to unprecedented heights. She earned top billing over Enrico Caruso in the eminent tenor's American debut, inspired Giamocco Puccini to call her "the Mimi" in his celebrated La Boheme and, in honor of her retirement in 1917, was featured in a gala performance still considered one of the greatest to grace the Metropolitan's stage.

For Sembrich, retirement hardly meant slowing down. The woman known to the world as one of history's greatest singers also proved to be one of history's greatest teachers. From her studio, a pink stucco cottage built on the shores of Lake George, Sembrich provided lessons for countless talented young singers. Many of these prodigies would eventually follow their mentor's footsteps across the greatest stages of the opera world.

Adirondack life was busy for Sembrich. She worked tirelessly to provide humanitarian aid for her war-torn homeland, helped establish the Julliard and Curtis conservatories and spent long hours climbing the highest peaks of the Adirondacks (which, she noted, were "not quite as imposing" as the Swiss Alps).

Marcella Sembrich died in 1935, but her story remains very much alive. Thanks to her preservation-minded daughter-in-law, Sembrich's lakeside studio in Bolton Landing, New York has provided summer visitors with a vivid portrait of her life every summer since 1937. Autographed portraits, paintings and playbills mingle with correspondences with Senbrich's celebrity friends (from composers like Mahler and Puccini to author Mark Twain) on the walls; Sembrich's colorful costumes and antique furnishings fill the rooms. The century-old Steinway Sembrich once used for lessons remains in its rightful place, often used in performances and demonstrations that take place at the museum. Even the old phonograph still plays the recordings of Sembrich's many illustrious performances. From wall to wall and ceiling to floor, the Sembrich Opera Museum tells a story that supersedes any operatic drama, a Cinderella journey from the poverty of a Polish village to the glamour of the Metropolitan Opera.

One hundred and thirty three years ago, Franz Liszt discovered the remarkable story of Marcella Sembrich in Vienna. This year, in Bolton Landing, see for yourself what he found.

The Marcella Sembrich Opera Museum in Bolton Landing, N.Y.

Have you ever been to the opera? What is your favorite opera?