Farrar is Carmen!

FARRAR IS CARMEN







What defines a great movie star? How do we put a value, a price tag on the
charisma, the personality, the sheer glamour of what most of us would
classify as "star-quality"?


Knowing what we do about the great Hollywood studios of the 1930s and 40s,
and the star system that was such a central feature of their structure, it
is perhaps hard to believe that that kind of movie stardom, which became
synonymous with Hollywood, originated not in the movie studio, not on the
dramatic or the Vaudeville stage, but in the Opera House.


In 1915, Cecil B DeMille, who was then just becoming established as one of
the world's most ambitious, and inventive film-makers, introduced to the
silent screen one of the most popular and successful performers of her
generation, the operatic soprano, star of the Metropolitan Opera, Geraldine
Farrar.

Farrar's entrance into the movies completely changed both the public's and
the industry's perception of the star performer. Her screen career was
relatively short – she made only 14 films in all, the last was released in
1920 – and many people would say that she never really fulfilled the great
potential suggested in the best of her films made with DeMille. But
Farrar's screen debut was nothing short of sensational – playing the
character of the gypsy girl, Carmen, which she had played so successfully
at the Metropolitan Opera in New York – after seeing the film, one critic
simply wrote – "Farrar is Carmen".
Although clips from DeMille's Carmen frequently turn up in TV documentaries
and various compilations, the film is rarely screened complete – however,
there now is a fine DVD version with the original colour tinted sequences,
and the score, arranged by Hugo Riesenfeld, restored and conducted by
Gillian Anderson and played by the London Philharmonic Orchestra.
What follows is something of the background to the making of this film, and
an attempt to explain why the critic of the New York Times wrote of the
premiere of Carmen: "Farrar is a universe of expression … a great star".

For Geraldine Farrar, born in Melrose Massachusetts in 1882, stardom came
early.
She trained as a singer in New York, Paris and Berlin, and made her
operatic debut at the Berlin Opera at the age of 19, singing the role of
Marguerite in Gounod's very popular opera Faust.
She enjoyed great popularity in the German capital, and was even befriended
by the German Royal family – there was a long-standing rumour, that she had
an affair with Crown Prince Willhelm, the heir to the German throne – but
Farrar always denied this.
In 1906, at the age of 24, she made her New York debut at the Metropolitan
Opera on the opening night of the new season, singing Juliette in Gounod's
Romeo and Juliette.
She scored an immediate success, and remained with the company for the next
sixteen years.
In the Spring of 1907 she shared the stage for the first time with Enrico
Caruso, when they sang together in the Met premiere of Puccini's Madame
Butterfly – and this began a professional association between Caruso and
Farrar which was to last for her entire career.
As the great home-grown star at the Met. Farrar enjoyed a popularity rarely
equally by other female singers of the time. Set amongst the rather
stuffy, traditional opera establishment of the period, Farrar was seen as a
bright, energetic, articulate young woman, who not only brought a breath of
fresh air into the staid world of the wealthy opera-goer, but also appealed
to a new younger audience, predominantly female, who adopted the singer as
their new role-model. Her army of young female fans quickly became known as
Gerryflappers –
Cecil B. De Mille later described Farrar as "adulated ... by people of all
ages and kinds. Princes of Europe were at her feet. American teenagers
swarmed around her whenever she appeared, copied her style, gloried in
being nicknamed Gerryflappers".
She possessed an enviable array of talents to support her star status: she
was an accomplished musician, generally considered beautiful, witty and
charming, and as one critic later wrote, "in whatever she sang she gave all
that was in her."
She was also frequently praised for the quality of her acting: reviewing a
production of Tosca, one critic said, "Without a voice she would still have
had the possibility of a brilliant career in the theatre".
This combination of talents would make Farrar a very desirable property for
the new motion picture industry, constantly searching for new stars and new
novelties to fill the screen. As Farrar's career at the Met.went from
strength to strength, and she added more and more roles to a widening
repertoire, her value to the movie industry as a star attraction grew even
greater.
Combining Farrar on screen with Carmen was a masterstroke.
Carmen was rapidly becoming one of Farrar's most popular stage roles – she
was to sing it at the Met 58 times during her career.
She was first persuaded to take on the role in the autumn of 1914, at the
suggestion of the conductor Arturo Toscanini. Starring opposite Caruso as
Don Jose, in a brand new production designed by Hans Kautsky, Farrar's
first Carmen was a total triumph.
The critic, Dudley Glass wrote - "She throws herself into it, lives it,
breathes it ... casts her own personality aside. Geraldine Farrar is left
in the dressing room. Only Carmen is on the stage".
Of course, we have no film of Farrar playing Carmen on stage – but we do
have photos from the time, and gramophone recordings that Farrar made of
the role.
Together these give us some idea of the impact of her performance.

Every stage performance of Carmen that Farrar gave up to her retirement
from the Met stage eight years later, was completely sold out.
Standing at the back of the stalls at one sold out matinee performance of
Puccini's Madame Butterfly, were two men who would help to change Geraldine
Farrar's career forever: they were the agent Morris Gest and one of the
most important producers in the early movie industry, Jesse L. Lasky.
Lasky had already formed a highly successful alliance with Sam Goldwyn and
Cecil B. DeMille: The studios of the Jesse L. Lasky Feature Play Company
were set up in a barn in the undeveloped Los Angeles suburb of Hollywood,
thereby locating for the first time, the future film capital of the world.
In 1915, Lasky`s company produced thirty-six features, and De Mille either
directed or produced half of them. In terms of the new industry they were
already a force to be reckoned with.
Lasky was impressed, not only by the power of Farrar's performance, but
also by the enormous ovation she received at the curtain call: here could
be exactly what Lasky was looking for, a popular star of the legitimate
stage, with a large established following, who could bring a real touch of
class to the new film industry.
Morris Gest took Lasky backstage to meet Farrar, and before he left, he had
practically negotiated a movie contract with the singer.
For Lasky this was one of the most important casting coups of his career:
but what did Farrar stand to gain from the deal?
Well – firstly a salary of $20,000 – DeMille claimed that this was the
largest salary that they had ever paid to an actor.
But this wasn't such an important consideration for Farrar – she was
already a highly paid star performer, and she could have earned more than
this on a concert tour, and probably in a shorter amount of time.
No, there was another reason, far more persuasive, to explain the singers
willingness to risk the untried territory of movie-making. Farrar had been
suffering with vocal problems, and she had been strongly advised to rest
her singing voice.
As early as 1913, Farrar had experienced attacks of bronchitis, brought on
by a punishing schedule of operatic and concert performances, resulting in
her losing her voice during at performance at the Met, and having to be
replaced by an under-study half way through.
After her triumph as Carmen, Farrar`s health had again given cause for
concern. Probably as the result of over-work, the bronchial infection
returned, and she was forced to cancel several appearances.
Unwisely, she returned to the stage to sing in the world premiere of
Giordano`s opera Madame Sans-Gene and followed this with a series of
concerts and recording sessions for the Victor Company. Early in 1915 her
doctors advised a complete rest and she was compelled to stop singing for
several months.
Lasky's offer of a well-paid spell of silent movie making offered the ideal
alternative.
Her contract called for her to make three films in the summer of 1915.
First of all though, Farrar had to travel to Hollywood: and the conditions
of her contract ensured that she travelled and arrived in real style.
She had a private railway car for her journey a two-storey house in
Hollywood with a butler, cook and maid provided, a chauffeur driven
limousine, a private bungalow at the studio equipped with a grand piano ...
an orchestra on the set to provide mood music ... living expenses for the
star and her entourage, and a guarantee that De Mille would personally
direct all of her films. She was accompanied by her mother, her father, her
French maid, her business manager, her hairdresser and two lady companions,
all at the expense of the studio.
Uniquely for this time, Farrar's contract also guaranteed her star billing,
and that her name would appear as Miss Geraldine Farrar.
This kind of star treatment, which seems far closer to the conditions of
today, was completely unknown to film actors at this time – and it took a
star from the Metropolitan Opera to set a precedent that others would
shortly be only to eager to follow.
Although Carmen was always seen as the really important project, DeMille,
very cleverly decided to make another film called Maria Rosa first: he
realised that it would take time for his new star to adapt to her new
environment and the completely different requirements of performing in
front of the camera. So the first film was seen as a kind of a dummy run, a
dress rehearsal for the big prize, Farrar's Carmen.
DeMille's plan worked brilliantly, and by the time Farrar had completed
Maria Rosa she had adapted very well to her new work, formed a good
relationship with her leading man Wallace Reid, and won the affection of
just about everybody on the set, by her professionalism, her good humour
and her generosity.
The film crew may have viewed the prospect of working with a prima donna
from the opera house with more that a little reluctance, but before long
they had renamed her "Our Gerry" and she had become everyone's favourite
star.
Farrar seemed to posses a natural talent for screen acting, and an affinity
with the camera that is easy to see, event today. Farrar's commitment and
energy can be seen everywhere in this film and she seemed completely
prepared to lose all of the dignity of a great opera star to inject her
scenes with realism.
One of the most famous scenes in the film is the fight between Carmen and
Frasquita, played by Jeanie Macphearson. You can see, very clearly that
Macphearson's wig is falling off, but DeMille later claimed that the acting
was so realistic that he let the cameras continue filming, and this is the
version that appears in the finished movie.
Farrar was so taken by the dramatic impact of this scene that, when she
returned to play Carmen at the Met. the following season, she incorporated
it into her stage performance, much to the disgust of her Don Jose, Enrico
Caruso, who complained to the management that Farrar was destroying the
production with bad habits picked up in the disreputable world of movie-
making.
A brief look at some of the reviews that greeted the film on its release
tell us all we need to know about its subsequent success:
Farrar was described as "one of the greatest actresses of all time … one of
the marvels of the stage and screen". And the film was greeted as "one of
the most successful of the season".
Lasky himself described Carmen as, "the biggest money-maker we had up to
that time. And it took away the curse of movie work for stage personalities
... In fact, matinee idols of Broadway began to look to Hollywood with
envious eyes and to demand the full treatment with plenty of interviews and
newspaper build-up when they entrained for a studio commitment".
And so, even in 1915, Hollywood acknowledged that Geraldine Farrar had
changed the movie industry forever.
The success of the movie also brought about a number of spin-offs. The Fox
studio, anxious to cash in on the new Carmen craze, rush released a rival
version starring one of the greatest sex symbols of the day Theda Bara. To
publicise their version, Fox chose the rather combative slogan, "Carmen as
it should be", but the public and the critics alike gave their overwhelming
support to Farrar and DeMille.
A far more successful version of the Carmen story appeared three years
later, when the director Ernst Lubitsch, still working in Germany at this
time, featured the Polish actress Pola Negri in a version entitled Gypsy
Love. It was voted the best German film of the year and was shown with
considerable success both in Europe and the United States. And even though
the film doesn't quite have the sheer wit and masterly structure of many of
Lubitsch's later movies, it is well worth seeing.
But perhaps the most unlikely movie to be made in direct response to the
success of the Farrar/DeMille film, also came from the most unlikely
source. Charlie Chaplin's Burlesque on Carmen, which featured Edna
Purviance as the gypsy heroine with Chaplin as Don Jose, was the last film
which Chaplin made under his contract to the Essanay Company. When he left
Essanay to go to work for Mutual, they re-cut the film, adding a further
two reels which mostly feature the comic actor Ben Turpin.
Although the re-cut version has lost some of the sheer vitality and cutting
parody of the original, it is a very funny send up of one of the most
successful movies of the day.
After Carmen, Farrar made a further four films with DeMille, including Joan
the Woman, considered by many to be amongst the most beautiful of his early
films, in which Farrar memorably played Joan of Arc.
In 1918, she signed a contract with Goldwyn Pictures, and made a further
seven features. The second film made under the Goldwyn contract, a Western
called The HellCat, set on a ranch in Wyoming, marked the beginnings of a
downward turn in her movie career.
Her films began to fail at the box-office, and Goldwyn suggested that she
take a break from the movies, even though she had two years of her contract
left to run at a guaranteed fee of $125,000 a year. Farrar`s response to
her producer's suggestion was as unexpected and spontaneous as the best of
her screen performances had been. She took her contract and tore it up
right in front of Goldwyn.
After one further movie for Pathe, released in 1920, Geraldine Farrar
retired from the screen.
Perhaps the best assessment of Farrar the movie actress is supplied by
Edward Wagenknecht when he wrote: "Motion pictures satisfied that side of
Miss Farrar which is hungry for realism, delighting in danger, movement and
action. She found the transition from the operatic stage to the motion
picture studio a passage from the most restricted type of dramatic
expression to the freest of all, and she revelled in it accordingly."
Farrar returned to the Met., finally retiring from the Company in the
spring of 1922.
She continued to sing in concert for a further 10 years, and became a very
familiar voice to radio listeners commentating on the live radio broadcasts
of performances from the stage of the Metropolitan Opera.
She enjoyed a long and apparently happy retirement in Ridgefield
Connecticut where she died in 1967.
Three years before she died, at the ago of 82, Farrar was interviewed by
the film maker and historian, Kevin Brownlow. The frank and totally
unpretentious way in which she talked of her career in the movies, seems
characteristic of the great operatic diva who helped to shape the future of
Hollywood – this is what she said:
"It was vacation time for me. I was in silent pictures and I could save my
voice…
I have a list of abhorrences which include microphones and records, but I
don't include motion pictures. I think I liked them because they were
silent. They also saved my voice. You could give yourself entirely to
expression. Of course, we spoke our lines aloud, Full out, so, on second
thought, I suppose they didn't really save my voice after all."

This paper was written as an introduction to several screenings of Carmen,
A Famous Players-Lasky Production, for Paramount Pictures, directed by
Cecil B. DeMille, and starring Miss Geraldine Farrar.


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