Anne Wiggins Brown & Kirsten Flagstad
I met Anne during my first year as editor of VOICEPrints, the historian Robert Kimball making the introduction—he knowing my interest in historical vocal pedagogy, and Anne a student of Lucia Dunham, herself a student of Lilli Lehmann.
Robert called Anne and gave me the Ok.
I called Anne, who revealed that she was in Baltimore visiting a sister and was slated to fly back to Oslo, Norway, her home. Would I mind driving her to Long Island where she would stay with her friend, the composer Hale Smith? She would then go to Kennedy airport the next day.
So I flew down to Baltimore and drove Gershwin’s Bess to Long Island. We talked shop and became friends during the six hour drive, seeing each other afterwards when she returned to New York, speaking on the phone in the meanwhile, deepening our friendship.
We talked about her studies at the Institute of Musical Art (which later became Juilliard) during our initial meeting; her career which was made possible by what she had been taught; how she came to sing in Porgy and Bess—and many other things; and it was somewhere around the three hour mark when she told me a story about the legendary dramatic soprano Kirsten Flagstad—then immediately made me promise that I would never repeat it to anyone.
“Flagstad is a GOD in Norway.”
But I think it’s time to revisit that promise, the recent production of Porgy and Bess at the Metropolitan Opera bringing the matter to mind.
Anne was living in Oslo, Norway, with her husband, an Olympic skier. It was 1953, the same year that Elizabeth became Queen, Dwight D. Eisenhower was president, and civil rights legislation a decade away. Both she and Flagstad had the same manager, the latter asking Anne if she was interested in singing a small part in a production of Henry Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas. Fladstad would sing the principal role. It would be her farewell performance.
Anne was very much interested.
So the manager took the cast list to Flagstad for approval. Flagstad looked at it, and when she came to Anne’s name told the manager that Anne’s participation was out of the question. Without another word being said, the manager knew that Anne’s race had been called into question.
Anne was furious. And then a very strange thing happened.
The singer who was to appear in the much larger part of the witch became ill during rehearsals and cancelled. There was no “cover.” The manger knew that Anne knew the part and pleaded with her to take up the role, telling Anne that she could use all her anger out on Flagstad during the performance.
Anne refused repeatedly. And then she had an idea.
Anne would agree to sing the part if Flagstad welcomed her in front of the company and orchestra.
And that is what happened.
Addendum February 9, 2020: This story is interesting in light of the fact that Kirsten Flagstad is known to have been supportive of Marian Anderson’s appearance at Constitution Hall, which was prohibited by the DAR, Eleanor Roosevelt having asked Flagstad to voice her disapproval of the organization’s decision. Was there another reason why Anne was originally discounted by Flagstad? We may never know. All I do know is the story that was told to me.
