Podcasts about Contralto

La voce umana è uno strumento straordinariamente versatile, con caratteristiche che variano in base a fattori anatomici e fisiologici. Queste differenze permettono di classificare le voci in diverse categorie, sia per gli uomini che per le donne. Comprendere queste classificazioni è fondamentale per cantanti, direttori di coro e appassionati di musica.Classificazione delle voci femminiliLe voci femminili si suddividono principalmente in tre categorie:• Soprano: È la voce femminile più acuta, caratterizzata da un timbro brillante e una notevole estensione nelle note alte. I soprani spesso ricoprono ruoli principali nelle opere liriche, rappresentando personaggi giovani e virtuosi. • Mezzosoprano: Posizionata fra il soprano e il contralto, la voce di mezzosoprano ha un timbro più scuro e una gamma vocale che permette di eseguire note sia acute che gravi. Spesso interpreta ruoli di supporto o personaggi femminili con caratteristiche più mature. • Contralto: È la voce femminile più grave e rara, con un timbro profondo e ricco. I contralti sono spesso impiegati per ruoli che richiedono una presenza vocale potente e distintiva. Classificazione delle voci maschiliLe voci maschili sono generalmente classificate in:• Tenore: È la voce maschile più acuta, con un timbro luminoso e brillante. I tenori spesso interpretano ruoli eroici o romantici nelle opere. • Baritono: Situato fra il tenore e il basso, il baritono possiede un timbro caldo e versatile, adatto a una vasta gamma di ruoli, da personaggi comici a quelli drammatici. • Basso: È la voce maschile più grave, caratterizzata da profondità e risonanza. I bassi spesso rappresentano personaggi autorevoli o villain nelle produzioni operistiche. Voci biancheLe voci dei bambini, sia maschili che femminili, sono denominate “voci bianche”. Queste voci sono generalmente più acute e prive della maturità timbrica delle voci adulte. Nella musica corale, le voci bianche sono spesso suddivise in:• Soprano: Per le voci più acute.• Contralto: Per le voci leggermente più gravi.Fattori determinanti nella classificazione vocaleLa classificazione di una voce non si basa esclusivamente sull'estensione vocale, ma considera anche altri fattori come:• Timbro: La qualità distintiva del suono vocale.• Estensione: L'ampiezza delle note che un cantante può eseguire comodamente.• Tessitura: La gamma di note in cui la voce risuona con maggiore naturalezza e comfort.• Agilità: La capacità di eseguire passaggi rapidi e complessi con facilità.Questi elementi combinati aiutano a determinare la categoria vocale più adatta per un cantante. Importanza della classificazione vocaleUna corretta identificazione del tipo di voce è essenziale per:• Selezione del repertorio: Permette ai cantanti di scegliere brani che valorizzano le proprie caratteristiche vocali.• Tecnica vocale: Aiuta gli insegnanti di canto a sviluppare esercizi specifici per migliorare le qualità intrinseche della voce dell'allievo.• Salute vocale: Evitare sforzi indebiti cantando in registri non adatti previene danni alle corde vocali.

durée : 00:29:04 - Marie-Nicole Lemieux, contralto - Après des débuts wagnériens remarqués à Bruxelles il y a un an, c'est à l'Opéra de Paris que la contralto Marie-Nicole Lemieux incarne, ces jours-ci, la déesse Erda dans une nouvelle production de "L'Or du Rhin", prologue du célèbre Ring de Wagner. Rencontre avec une artiste flamboyante.

Nesta edição do "Clássicos CBN", o Maestro Helder Trefzger trata de um dos instrumentos mais bonitos e sensíveis da música clássica: a voz! Quando o assunto é canto lírico, as vozes humanas podem se apresentar em diferentes nuances. As mulheres, por exemplo, podem ressoar vozes soprano, mezzo-soprano e contralto. Os homens, por sua vez, se destacam com vozes baixo, barítono e tenor. Ouça a conversa completa!

Finally, the first in my long-promised series on the contralto voice! The contralto is a rara avis in the today's opera and classical music scene, and yet back in the day, there seem to have been more of them before the public. And of course contraltos have always been a powerful presence on the popular music scene, whether in blues, disco, jazz, or as purveyors of the Great American Songbook. There is no way that I can cover all of the great (and near-great) contraltos in recorded history, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try! Today's selections span a wide chronological range , even for this podcast: nearly 120 years, and include voices both fleet and monolithic (and sometimes both). We begin with a tribute to the late Polish coloratura contralto Ewa Podleś and along with way we hear the most famous contraltos like Kathleen Ferrier and Marian Anderson, and jazz and pop contraltos like Nina Simone and Cassandra Wilson. We also sample singers from the earlier twentieth century such as Ernestine Schumann-Heink, Cloe Elmo, Clara Butt, Eugenia Mantelli, Kerstin Thorborg, and Sigrid Onégin (about whom I spill some major tea!) Throughout the episode are sprinkled some of the most beautiful voices of any kind that I have ever heard: the Scottish Caroline Kaart, the Romanian Florica Cristofereanu, the Czech Věra Soukupová, the Dutch Aafje Heynis, the French Germaine Cernay, the British Norma Procter, and the Russian Valentina Levko. And if like me you have despaired of ever hearing another true contralto again in our lifetime, we hear in young Jasmin White cause for rejoicing. And if your favorites are not heard today, fear not, for this is the tip of the iceberg: many more great singers will follow when the series continues in two weeks. Countermelody is a podcast devoted to the glory and the power of the human voice raised in song. Singer and vocal aficionado Daniel Gundlach explores great singers of the past and present focusing in particular on those who are less well-remembered today than they should be. Daniel's lifetime in music as a professional countertenor, pianist, vocal coach, voice teacher, and journalist yields an exciting array of anecdotes, impressions, and “inside stories.” At Countermelody's core is the celebration of great singers of all stripes, their instruments, and the connection they make to the words they sing. By clicking on the following link (https://linktr.ee/CountermelodyPodcast) you can find the dedicated Countermelody website which contains additional content including artist photos and episode setlists. The link will also take you to Countermelody's Patreon page, where you can pledge your monthly support at whatever level you can afford.

On this day in 1939, world-renowned Black opera singer Marian Anderson performed on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Miss Heard celebrates Season 5, Episode 231 with Toni Braxton's 1996 hit “Un-Break My Heart” and how she is a gay icon, and how she helped Miss Heard through her divorce with this song and other songs from her second album “Secrets.” You can listen to all our episodes at our website at: https://pod.co/miss-heard-song-lyrics Or iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify and many more platforms under Podcast name “Miss Heard Song Lyrics” Don't forget to subscribe/rate/review to help our Podcast in the ratings. Please consider supporting our little podcast via Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/MissHeardSongLyrics or via PayPal at https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/MissHeardSongLyrics #missheardsonglyrics #missheardsongs #missheardlyrics #misheardsonglyrics #misheardsongs        #misheardlyrics #ToniBraxton #UnBreakMyHeart #SageandOnion #Saythatyouloveme #Secrets   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p2Rch6WvPJE https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Un-Break_My_Heart https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toni_Braxton https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Contralto

“Many people have described my voice as falsetto as well. I love my vocal breaks, my middle-range voice, my enunciation, my pronunciation, my electrical sound, my rich and full voice, and my vocal cord nodules.” -Antonio Myers. “Soprano range: The soprano is the highest singing voice. The typical soprano voice lies between C4 (middle C) and C6 (high C). The low extreme for sopranos is roughly A3 (just below middle C).[3] Most soprano roles do not extend above C6 although there are several standard soprano roles that call for D6. At the highest extreme, some coloratura soprano roles may reach to G6 (the G above high C).[4] Mezzo-soprano range: The mezzo-soprano voice is the middle-range voice type for females;[3] it lies between the soprano and contralto ranges, over-lapping both of them. The typical range of this voice is between A3 (the A below middle C) to A5 (two octaves higher). In the lower and upper extremes, some mezzo-sopranos may extend down to F3 (the F below middle C) and as high as C6 (high C).[3] Contralto range: The contralto voice is the lowest female voice. A true operatic contralto is rare,[7] so much so that often roles intended for contralto are performed by mezzo-sopranos. The typical contralto range lies between F3 (the F below middle C) to F5 (the second F above middle C). In the lower and upper extremes some contralto voices can sing from D3 (the D below middle C) to B♭ 5 (the second B-flat above), one whole step short of the soprano high C.[3] Countertenor range: The countertenor is the highest male voice. Many countertenor singers perform roles originally written for a castrato in baroque operas. Historically, there is much evidence that the countertenor, in England at least, also designated a very high tenor voice, the equivalent of the French haute-contre. Until about 1830, all male voices used some falsetto-type voice production in their upper range. Countertenor voices span a broad range, covering E3 to E5. Tenor range: The tenor is the highest male voice within the modal register. The typical tenor voice lies between C3 (one octave below middle C) to C5 (one octave above middle C). The low extreme for tenors is roughly A♭ 2 (the second A-flat below middle C). At the highest extreme, some tenors can sing up to F5 (the second F above middle C).[3] Baritone range: The baritone voice is the middle-range voice type for males and the most common male voice type; it lies between the bass and tenor ranges, overlapping both of them. The typical baritone range is from A2 (the second A below middle C) to A4 (the A above middle C). A baritone's range might extend down to F2 (the second F below middle C) or up to C5 (one octave above middle C).[3] Bass range: The bass is the lowest singing voice. The bass voice has the lowest tessitura of all the voices. The typical bass range lies between E2 (the second E below middle C) to E4 (the E above middle C). In the lower and upper extremes of the bass voice, some basses can sing from C2 (two octaves below middle C) to G4 (the G above middle C).[5].” -Wikipedia. “Many ignorant people described my voice as a “stern”, “abrasive”, “gruff”, “clipped”, “reedy”, “cartoonish”, “abrupt”, “roaring lion”, “a shark”, “screeching” “piping”, “whistling”, “shrieking” “piercing”, “like nails on a chalkboard”, “crybaby”, “shrill”, “sharp” “a chimpanzee”, “a talking parrot”, “an angry bear”, “a dinosaur”, “gargle-sounding,” “worthy of being placed in the emergency room (ER)”, “pouncing tiger”, and a “hissing snake”. -Antonio Myers --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/antonio-myers4/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/antonio-myers4/support

MSA - Hino 68 - Sem tardar, vai a Cristo - Voz Soprano, Voz do Contralto, Voz Tenor, Voz Baixo E Dó na 3° (2023)

Joan Ross Sorkin (Librettist) is an opera librettist, playwright, and musical theatre bookwriter and lyricist. Operas: Strange Fruit, Premiere, Long Leaf Opera, New York City Opera's VOX, In Concert, Harlem School of the Arts in association with City Opera; White Witch, A Monodrama for Contralto and Percussion, Premiere, Symphony Space. Musicals: Monet, In The Theatre, The Real McCoy, Go Green! and Isabelle and The Pretty-Ugly Spell. Plays: (mis)Understanding Mammy: The Hattie McDaniel Story (Drama Desk nom. for Capathia Jenkins), The Survival Collection, Hamlet in Bensonhurst, The Confessional and others. Member, Dramatists Guild, BMI Musical Theatre Workshop, and ASCAP. (www.joanrosssorkin.com) A production of 'Dandelion' runs from April 29 - May 14th, 2023 at the Playhouse on Park, West Hartford, CT Ticket info: https://www.playhouseonpark.org/web2/Season14/TYA_Dandelion.html

Charlotte Cushman was one of the first female actresses to play male and female roles and achieve international fame. Her voice was noted for its full contralto register, which made her well-known for playing male characters such as Romeo, Hamlet, and Cardinal Wolsey and strong female characters like Lady Macbeth and Nancy Sykes in Oliver Twist. She often rubbed elbows with the elite, including President Abraham Lincoln. She was also out in the open with her same-sex partner relationships in the mid-19th century. Follow us: @homance_chronicles Connect with us: https://linktr.ee/homance Request a Hoe of History: homancepodcast@gmail.com  

Purtroppo la pratica della castrazione è incomprensibilmente uscita di moda, per cui gran parte del repertorio per evirati cantori oggi è eseguito da donne. Ma i contralti uomini sono sempre esistiti, sia nella pratica vocale inglese che italiana, sacra e profana, e non hanno mai smesso di offrire al mondo la loro arte e le loro possibilità espressive. Controtenori, cosa sono, chi sono, che fanno nella vita? Buon ascolto!

Dopo il successo della puntata "Dove osano le balene" nella Prima Stagione, con le note più acute mai sentite, ecco una carrellata delle note più gravi, al confine, spesso molto labile, col rutto artistico, nelle viscere del canto. Buon ascolto!

This Tampa Bay native now lives and sings in Music City, Nashville, TN.  Colleen Orender picked the Patsy Cline song "Sweet Dreams." Colleen grew up learning her music.  Her Papa had a collection of records for Colleen to listen to and she always sang along.  Patsy Cline was considered to have one of the most unique voices called a Contralto.  It's no surprise that Colleen is too.  I had the pleasure of hearing Colleen sing and hearing her stories about the songs she was singing. She talked a lil about her Papa then and again in this interview.  They truly had a special love. Full Show Notes

When renowned American contralto Marian Anderson visited the Finnish composer Jean Sibelius in his home, he paid her a beautiful tribute. Get in touch: @gretchenrubin; @elizabethcraft; podcast@gretchenrubin.com Get in touch on Instagram: @GretchenRubin & @LizCraft Get the podcast show notes by email every week here: http://gretchenrubin.com/#newsletter Leave a voicemail message on: 774-277-9336 For information about advertisers and promo codes, go to happiercast.com/sponsors Want to be happier in 2022? Order Gretchen Rubin's book The Happiness Project to see how she approached the question, “How can I be happier?” and start a Happiness Project of your own. Happier with Gretchen Rubin is part of ‘The Onward Project,' a family of podcasts brought together by Gretchen Rubin—all about how to make your life better. Check out the other Onward Project podcasts—Do The Thing, Side Hustle School, Happier in Hollywood and Everything Happens with Kate Bowler. If you liked this episode, please subscribe, leave a review, and tell your friends! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

durée : 00:58:54 - Nathalie Stutzmann, chef d'orchestre et contralto - par : Aurélie Moreau - Contralto à la musicalité profonde, Nathalie Stutzmann est à la tête du Symphonique de Kristiansand depuis 2018. Chef principale invitée de l'Orchestre de Philadelphie, elle sera directrice musicale du Symphonique d'Atlanta dès la saison 2022-23.

#OTD Grammy Award winning singer Etta James received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Recording artist Dave Hollister narrates.

Portia White built an international reputation as a singer. After her concert days, she taught at Branksome Hall School in Toronto. This week, that school put up a plaque honouring Portia White's life and contribution. We hear from Portia White's niece, Sheila.

Può un soprano diventare un contralto? E tenore si nasce o si diventa? Il Contralto donna ed altri esseri mitologici svelati nella nuova puntata de Le Parrucchiere di Siviglia, il vostro podcast preferito. Buon ascolto!

Nesta edição do Clássicos CBN, o maestro Helder Trefzger explica as diferenças entre as vozes soprano, mezzosoprano e contralto. Ouça:

How does one become a musical legend? In the conclusion of Marian Anderson: The American Contralto, we chronicle Marian's journey through Europe as she is called "the voice of the century." After a successful trip to Europe and being met with resistance to perform at Consitution Hall, it led to a concert at the Lincoln Memorial. Later we talk to Charlie Edmunds about her experience teaching music in East Tennessee and a new program she is creating to expose more students to learn how to play black music. In this episode, you will hear: What Marian needed in Europe and how Roland Hayes helped The type of money Marian was making at her peak. The origin of the Nuremberg Race Laws and how they affected Marian Why Marian was not able to perform at Constitution Hall A significant song she performed at the Lincoln Memorial  Notable figures mentioned in this episode: Roland Hayes Katherine Mary Dunham Walter White

What does it take to be the best to do it?  In Part 1 of this Black Is America podcast presentation, we chronicle the story of the great American contralto Marian Anderson. We discuss her early singing experiences in church, the power and emotion of the Negro spiritual, and why what Black America creates is often hard to duplicate. In this episode, you will hear: About Marian's upbringing Why the church is essential to the African American community The cheat code embedded in the black community About H.T. Burleigh and the art of the Negro spiritual Why did Marian Anderson go to Europe And so much more

On this Bubbler Talk, WUWM's Teran Powell looks into this question: Did Marian Anderson ever visit and sing in Milwaukee? If so, where did she stay, as individuals who were Black were not allowed to stay in hotels in the past.

durée : 00:58:54 - Nathalie Stutzmann, chef d'orchestre et contralto - par : Aurélie Moreau - Contralto à la musicalité profonde, Nathalie Stutzmann est à la tête du Symphonique de Kristiansand depuis 2018. Chef principale invitée de l'Orchestre de Philadelphie, elle sera directrice musicale du Symphonique d'Atlanta dès la saison 2022-23.

This week, Stauney introduces us to one of the most incredible, unique, and famous contralto vocalists of all time: Karen Carpenter! Although she has been associated mainly with her early death and her eating disorder, there was so much more to the talented musician. We focus on her early life, the formation of the Carpenters, her lesser-known drumming career,  her solo album, and so much more.  Although her music may be well known, this episode is a great chance to explore more of the nuances of her life, career, and the legacy she left behind.Want to check out some of our favorite books? Check out our booklist Follow Us on Instagram @morethanamuse.podcast

"Big Music Sunday" (December 5, 2021) Worship Service Walt Whitman was a man who lived a very rich life, finding beauty and divinity in all corners of the earth. We enjoy his words as set to some of the most beautiful music imaginable, but we also speak his words, we hear his words, we hear about the man. As a special element we also shall frame the service with that which gave him inspiration to conceive of those words. The aim on the morning of December 5 is to know Walter Junior better and to perhaps reincarnate a bit of him in this time and place. Dr. Mark Sumner, Music Director; Rev. Vanessa Rush Southern, Senior Minister; Lucy Smith, Worship Associate; Asher Davison, Reading; Reiko Oda Lane, Organist; UUSF and University of California Alumni Choirs; Richard Fey, Baritone; Nancy Munn, Soprano; Leandra Ramm, Contralto; Wm. García Ganz, Pianist; Elliott Etzkorn, Pianist Eric Shackelford, Camera; Donald Shearer, Camera; Jonathan Silk, Sound; Joe Chapot, Live Chat Moderator; Thomas Brown, Sexton; Athena Papadakos, Flowers; Alex Darr, Les James, Tom Brookshire, Zoom Coffee Hour

"Big Music Sunday" (December 5, 2021) Worship Service Walt Whitman was a man who lived a very rich life, finding beauty and divinity in all corners of the earth. We enjoy his words as set to some of the most beautiful music imaginable, but we also speak his words, we hear his words, we hear about the man. As a special element we also shall frame the service with that which gave him inspiration to conceive of those words. The aim on the morning of December 5 is to know Walter Junior better and to perhaps reincarnate a bit of him in this time and place. Dr. Mark Sumner, Music Director; Rev. Vanessa Rush Southern, Senior Minister; Lucy Smith, Worship Associate; Asher Davison, Reading; Reiko Oda Lane, Organist; UUSF and University of California Alumni Choirs; Richard Fey, Baritone; Nancy Munn, Soprano; Leandra Ramm, Contralto; Wm. García Ganz, Pianist; Elliott Etzkorn, Pianist Eric Shackelford, Camera; Donald Shearer, Camera; Jonathan Silk, Sound; Joe Chapot, Live Chat Moderator; Thomas Brown, Sexton; Athena Papadakos, Flowers; Alex Darr, Les James, Tom Brookshire, Zoom Coffee Hour

Un Podcast de momentos simpáticos de algunos shows de este año 2021, para que pases un muy buen día :)

We listen back to an interview with Sarah Hennies, the composer of a piece called "Contralto." It's part music, part documentary, and it features the voices of transgender women.

Rising star Avery Amereau lends her lush contralto voice in the role of Olga in the Santa Fe Opera's new production of Eugene Onegin, Alexander Pushkin's story of rakes and romantic mistakes set to glorious music by Tchaikovsky. While this marks the singer's Santa Fe Opera debut, Avery is well acquainted with Olga and New Mexico's great chile debate. Host Jane Trembley chats with her about the perks of possessing an authentic contralto voice, the singer's less than traditional introduction to opera, and a favorite (shocking!) memory from her Metropolitan Opera debut. Avery also shares wise words with novice singers about staying true to one's voice and recommends thematic elements audiences should note while attending this sumptuous opera.  “There's an idea that contralto roles are usually, like, old ladies or nurses,” Avery laughs.  Contraltos - singers whose vocal range is the lowest female voice type - are often cast as evil sisters or, as Avery likes to say, the witches and britches of the opera world. She sees teenage Olga as a bit of a flirt, a social butterfly - characteristics that will require a fresh perspective from Avery when the two meet again. “It'll be a bit more challenging in that way than when I was at Julliard because I've lived so much more life since then,” she says, including becoming a new mother. In addition to heralding the singer's debut with the Santa Fe Opera, Eugene Onegin also marks Avery's return to performances after the pandemic. “I think it's very fitting to come back to this role,” she says. “It has a very special significance for me.” Last seen at the Santa Fe Opera in 2002, Eugene Onegin allows audiences to experience Avery's vibrant contralto in Russian. The feat required her to learn the Cyrillic alphabet and make sense of consonant clusters and diphthong pronunciations not found in standard American English. Tchaikovsky's soaring score is worth the effort, though. “It's a good mix,” Avery says of Olga. “I have a duet; I have an aria; I have a quartet; I have an ensemble. So, I get a nice smattering of everything possible.” Audiences will, too. *** Destination Santa Fe Opera is a Santa Fe Opera podcast, produced and edited by Andrea Klunder at The Creative Impostor Studios. Mixed by: Edwin R. Ruiz Hosted by: Jane Trembley Featuring: Avery Amereau, American Contralto *** Learn more about the Santa Fe Opera and plan your visit at http://www.santafeopera.org. We'd love for you to join us on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, and TikTok @santafeopera. 

Nathalie Stutzmann/Orfeo 55 — Contralto (Warner Classics/Erato)  Jump to CD giveaway form “Oh là là! I’m actually living my dream,” said conductor and contralto Nathalie Stutzmann. “My two biggest goals in life were to be a singer and a conductor, and I am just living my dream.” Nathalie Stutzmann believes that every dream can come true and she’s living proof. It was a challenge for a young woman growing up in Paris to accomplish her goals, but she didn’t give up. She went on to become the first woman to conduct an ensemble while singing and that’s precisely what she does on her new recording, Contralto, with the ensemble she founded, Orfeo 55. Unfortunately, that ensemble disbanded after this recording because of Stutzmann’s new role as principal guest conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra and her conducting debut at the Metropolitan Opera this fall. Why is the contralto voice so uncommon and difficult? “The sound of the contralto is the voice of Earth and of the soul. I personally worked on my voice to make it as flexible and colorful as possible. The contralto register is like a wild and heavy stone. When you start you really need to work to make it light and flexible.” Why did you want to make this recording? “I wanted to do a tribute to and say thank you for this voice I have been living with for so many years. I learned how to love it and develop it. I wanted to show what an extraordinary instrument it is. “I first started doing research looking for contraltos. Then I watched for who was composing music for them and which parts. That's how I discovered these rare works. It was from my research. “My goal was to find unknown arias which are also beautiful, like Antonio Vivaldi’s ‘Cara Addio’ from Griselda. It's just a marvelous aria. We found a part of the score and I decided to orchestrate it with guitar. It became a beautiful romance, unbelievably soft and very tender. The creativity within this repertoire is so extraordinary. “It was exciting to show that another aria from Vivaldi, ‘Gelido in Ogni Vena,’ which I thought was written for a male voice was actually written and dedicated to a woman. It was exciting to rediscover that.” Can you talk about the call-and-response between you and the woodwinds in Antonio Caldara’s aria ‘Sotto un Faggio’? “This is actually a worldwide premiere. It's so beautiful. ‘Sotto un Faggio’ is an aria I discovered because of its tonal colors. The work has a dialog between the voice and the woodwinds. It’s special because the woodwinds are comprised of flutes, a bassoon and a chalumeau, which is the predecessor to the clarinet. I find the colors of those instruments to be close to the soft middle register of the contralto voice.” To hear the rest of my conversation, click on the extended interview above, or download the extended podcast on iTunes or wherever you get your podcasts. Watch now You must be 13 or older to submit any information to American Public Media. The personally identifying information you provide will not be sold, shared, or used for purposes other than to communicate with you about things like our programs, products and services. See Terms of Use and Privacy. This giveaway is subject to the Official Giveaway Rules. Note: Due to the coronavirus quarantines, we cannot send physical product at this time. Winners will be notified at the conclusion of the giveaway and will receive their prize as soon as possible after the crisis abates. Resources Nathalie Stutzmann/Orfeo 55 — Contralto (Amazon) Nathalie Stutzmann (Official site)

Nathalie Stutzmann on oma uuel albumil kahes rollis - kontraaldisolistina ning ansambel Orfeo 55 dirigendina.

California is expanding vaccine eligibility to anyone 50 and over starting April 1, and anyone 16 and up on April 15. Plus, San Diego Unified students will return to campus either two or four days a week in April, depending on the number of families who want to participate in in-person instruction. And in San Diego weekend arts: SDMA’s Young Art exhibition, a virtual piano concert, Coronado Playhouse’s latest production, The Black Iris Project, “Contralto” and “A Shimmer of Strings.”

The Brazilian variant of COVID-19, which caused a deadly spike in cases in that country, has been found in San Diego. Plus, California assemblyman Rob Bonta has been chosen to become the state’s next attorney general. Upon his appointment, Bonta would be the first Filipino American to occupy the position. And some doctors are seeing a disturbing spike in lethal alcoholic liver disease, especially among young women. Then, the pandemic has restricted the number of clinical placements available to nursing students in hospitals, forcing them to practice their skills instead on mannequins, virtual patients, or at home with relatives and even stuffed animals. Plus, "Contralto," is a groundbreaking work of experimental documentary filmmaking and music by composer and UC San Diego music alum Sarah Hennies. Finally, a new summertime anthem about Southeast San Diego was just released called “Southeast Summers.”

Marian Anderson was an American contralto. She performed a wide range of music, from opera to spirituals. Anderson was born in Philadelphia on February 27, 1897. On January 7, 1955, Anderson became the first African-American to perform at the Metropolitan Opera. During her life, she was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Congressional Gold Medal, the National Medal of Arts, and a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award.BlackFacts.com is the Internet's longest running Black History Encyclopedia. Our podcast summarizes the vast stories of Black history in daily episodes known as Black Facts Of The Day™.Since 1997, BlackFacts.com has been serving up Black History Facts on a daily basis to millions of users and followers on the web and via social media.Learn Black History. Teach Black History.For more Black Facts, join Black Facts Nation at BlackFacts.com/join.Because Black History is 365 Days a Year, and Black Facts Matter!

This week, we start out with a rousing round of Match the Interpreter and then we move on to our three topics:SF SYMPHONY RE-ORG AND RE-BRANDSFS Collaborative PartnersCan Branding Help Save Classical Music? (Fast Company)Play with the new SFS dynamic font!MBC'S VIOLIN METHOD BOOKMusic by Black ComposersYale Student Creates Project to Integrate Violin RepertoireNATHALIE STUTZMANN ON “CONTRALTO”Listen on SpotifyWatch the recording sessionCLASSICAL MIXTAPEThe full playlistNathalieBoccherini, Concerto No. 9, mvmt 2TiffanyVictor Herbert, Cello Concerto No. 2 in E minorKenshoKevin Puts, If I Were a SwanWillLotti, Crucifixus a 8THINK YOU CAN STUMP US? GO AHEAD AND TRY!Google Form for “Name that Tune: Stump the Hosts Edition” You can reach us at classicalgabfest@gmail.com and on social media:FacebookTwitterInstagram

[RE-AIR Feb. 12, 2020] WNYC director of archives Andy Lanset joins us for another installment of "Andy in the Archives." This week, we're celebrating the life of lauded contralto Marian Anderson. 

Nová nahrávka francouzské pěvkyně a dirigentky Nathalie Stutzmann. Poslechněte si recenzi Michaely Vostřelové.

durée : 01:57:09 - En pistes ! du vendredi 29 janvier 2021 - par : Emilie Munera, Rodolphe Bruneau Boulmier - Au programme : le Maxwell Quartet met en regard les quatuors de Haydn avec la musique folklorique écossaise ; Mark Elder et le Hallé Orchestra poursuivent leur exploration de l’oeuvre de Ralph Vaugham Williams ; Piotr Anderszewski s'empare du Clavier Bien Tempéré de Jean-Sébastien Bach... - réalisé par : Lionel Quantin

Chaque jour, Camille De Rijck reçoit un invité qui fait l'actualité musicale ou culturelle. Production et présentation : Camille De Rijck

- Faute de date précise de réouverture des salles, où en est le cinéma français ? Stéphane Boudsocq a rencontré Jérôme Seydoux, le patron de Pathé, l'homme le plus puissant du 7e art en France et les producteurs Dimitri Rassam et Hugo Sélignac. - Le musée Rodin à Paris est fermé, mais son vaste jardin est ouvert. Les visiteurs s'y précipitent pour voir les 60 sculptures qu'il abrite. Reportage de Monique Younès. - Le Classique d'Or RTL de janvier, avec Charlotte Latour. Le nouvel album de la chanteuse et cheffe Nathalie Stutzmann, "Contralto", un hommage aux contraltos des 17e et 18e siècles, ces femmes aux voix graves qu'on appelait à la rescousse quand un castrat se faisait porter pâle. - Les programmes télé de ce jeudi soir, avec Isabelle Morini Bosc.

Nathalie Stutzmann releases a new Erato recording of Baroque arias written for her voice-type: 'Contralto'. Conducting her orchestra, Orfeo 55, she explores arias written for some of the star contraltos of the day by Handel, Vivaldi, Porpora, Gasparini and Caldara (including five world-premiere recordings). James Jolly spoke to Nathalie Stutzmann during rehearsals with Norway's Kristiansand Symphony Orchestra of which she is Chief Conductor; she's also recently been appointed Principal Guest Conductor of Gramophone's 2020 Orchestra of the Year, the Philadelphia Orchestra.

My first opera in Germany was MacDuff in Verdi's Macbeth which I had to learn in four days. Also, a profile of my voice teacher and Toscanni's favorite contralto, Sonia Essin. Enjoy!

In today's episode, Tara chats with Anne-Sofie Søby Jensen—a Danish singer. They speak about how Anne-Sofie's musical trek took her from Denmark to the UK and the journey of really learning to own and love who she is as a singer. Her story may inspire any singer who struggles with comparison and trying to find their own niche in singing.   Anne-Sofie grew up in a small village in Denmark in a family where piano music was often hear. Her parents were both pianist and she took piano lessons first from her grandmother. It set the stage for her music. Anne-Sofie also took part in some drama and theater in her teen years. During that time, the had a teacher who encouraged her to study classical music, thinking that her voice was be a perfect fit. This teacher (whom she had at 14) was super supportive of Anne-Sofie's singing and helped her learn the art of becoming an expressive singer. When she met other teens in the classical world of music, her comment was: “I didn't know that you could be a cool teenager having a normal teenage life and still sing classical.”   In her pre Academy days, she gained a love for oratorio through a workshop put on by an organist and choral conductor. It made her delve into Baroque music more and learn to love it. She did end up going to the Royal Danish Academy of Music and after some time there, felt stuck. But another teacher—a guest professor—helped her understand her voice better and encouraged her to pursue new things. This was Professor Susan McCulloch from the UK. So, Anne-Sofie took the leap and moved to the UK in 2017.  Some of the hardships she struggled with as a singer was simply comparing herself to other singers.  Once she acknowledged that her voice was not a lyric mezzo but more of a lower mezzo/contralto, she found more joy. “Finally realizing and honoring that has given me a freedom to sing the repertoire that I feel fits me. And not to feel that I have to press myself into a box that I don't have to fit in.” In her freedom, she could do this: “I decide what I want to do. I don't have to do an audition…” She also has been influenced by the book “The Artist's Way” by Julia Cameron. On singing and performing, she loves this: “It's the way that we can move other people.”  She also has found so much life in allowing herself to “play”.  “Letting go of everything and getting back that joy and of singing through ‘messing around'. “ Her final advice to singers is this: “Stop comparing yourself to others. Own who you are.” You can find Anne-Sofie at these places to follow: Instagram: @annesofiesoeby TikTok: @annesofiesoeby Facebook: www.facebook.com/ansomezzo Website: www.annesofiejensen.com YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCs8hMAMe7TbLNQSwBXrJOqg    Remember also friends, that **THE SINGING STRAW** is now available for you right here: http://lddy.no/f7zu  You can get 10% off with my code: tarab   For more info about this episode and to hear other episodes, go to: www.theengagingvoice.com    You can find this and other episodes at Stitcher, Google Play, Spotify, iHeart radio, and Apple Podcasts. Please go to Apple Podcast and click on RATINGS AND REVIEWS to rate this podcast. I would be so grateful! Thank you! https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-engaging-voice/id1448497465

In today's episode we discuss the Feldenkrais Method with the help of Voice Professor Karen Clark. She takes us first on part of her journey in music and how the Feldenkrais Method came alive to her. She shows how it can be a foundational part of singing. (3:25) Karen shows how music was a part of her growing up since she was young. This included having a grandfather who led singing in a church, as well as an uncle and great-uncle who traveled and taught people shaped note singing. (5:30) She was introduced to early music through opera in college study. (7:55)  Karen had frustration in graduate school because teachers had tried to get her to be a mezzo soprano even thought was a true alto, a contralto. (8:45) The Contralto voice has the color in their low registration—not like the mezzo singer. That beauty is in notes lower than the mezzo's natural resonant spots. (15:35) Somatic = “through the body” (15:52) Moshe Feldenkrais developed a method of help with movement by looking at the structure of his own body, after he had a knee injury. (17:25) Moshe designed lesson of awareness through movement. He said that we learn a lot about ourselves by listening to the body. (18:25) Karen tried a class of Awareness of movement by Feldenkrais and it turned a light bulb on for her. (19:05) There are awarenesses we can have in our body. These 5 things include: thinking, sensing, feeling, breathing, moving (20:42)”Your whole psyche (what we're studying)  is how it supports the phonation of the vocal folds.” (22:06) “You can know what you are supposed to be doing, but do you know how it feels?” (23:35) Karen uses a Feldenkrais table to help her students explore the rib cage and what they notice. (25:47) Feldenkrais is not fixing someone; it is saying how can we allow for movement and sensation? (30:45) The Feldenkrais Method is used also in dance and physical therapy.     To contact Karen Clark please find her on Facebook and Youtube as Karen R. Clark Or email her: karen.ree.clark@gmail.com She would be happy to answer questions or refer you to someone for the Feldenkrais Method.   If you want to be a part of a community that talks all things vocal, pop over to The Engaging Voice Singers (Facebook). Here is the link: https://www.facebook.com/groups/275720043147345/   You can find this and other episodes on theengingvoice.com and at Stitcher, Google Play, Spotify, iHeart radio, iTunes and radio.com   For a free PDF of Ways to Practice the Voice Consistently, please click here and grab your download: https://mailchi.mp/16a4bd648eac/getfreevoiceinfo  

SI KAHN is a folk, bluegrass and roots music legend, once described as “a rumor in his own time.” At 75 years old, he is at the peak of his powers as performer, songwriter, recording artist and playwright. His songs of family, community, love, work and freedom have been recorded and performed by hundreds of artists in North America and Europe. For 52 years, he's worked professionally as a civil rights, labor and community organizer. On this Special Event Broadcast of WoodSongs, we are honoring this American Folk legend. Guests appearing with Si:THE LOOPING BROTHERS are a German bluegrass trio that have recorded a new album of songs written by Si called ‘It's Dog's Life.' to honor his 75th. MATT WATORBA is a veteran performer, teacher, radio host, songwriter and more. Matt discusses his Community Sings project. VIVIAN NESBITT is an acclaimed actress that has appeared in on hit TV shows like Breaking Bad, The Night Shift, Longmire and the theatre. Vivian is currently on tour with Si Kahn's ‘Mother Jones In Heaven' ~ a musical one-woman show about the legendary labor organizer Mary Harris "Mother" Jones. With musical accompaniment by John Dillon, Vivian performs an excerpt from the play on WoodSongs. SISTAH LALA is a classically trained Contralto who has been sharing her gifts with the world for over three decades She has participated in national and international tours singing many genres of music including Spirituals, Opera, Jazz, and Gospel. Spirituals In Motion is Sistah LaLa's response to the call of the Ancestors. Using the history, and power of this work, she is on a mission to use her talents to inspire, educate and galvanize others through music.

You're listening to Marian Anderson with “Heav'n, Heav'n”, a Masterpiece 78 from 1943, and You're on the Sound Beat. When Marian Anderson performed at Princeton University in 1937, she was one of the most famous singers in the world. None other than Arturo Toscanini, once told her she had a voice “heard once in a hundred years”. She was probably well-received by the crowd, but as an African American woman, she was also denied accommodation at a nearby hotel. Luckily, a gentleman in attendance offered her lodging for the night, and…probably some interesting conversation. His name: Albert Einstein. The contralto and the physicist would remain lifelong friends. Anderson, as a matter of fact, stayed with Einstein just months before his death in 1955. Read more here. Photo: "Marian Anderson" by Carl Van Vechten - Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, Van Vechten Collection, reproduction number LC-USZ62-42524.. Licensed under Public domain via Wikimedia Commons

For episode 192 we are joined by Sarah Hennies, a percussionist and composer born and raised in Louisville KY, now living in Ithaca, NY. Her work is concerned with a variety of musical, sociopolitical, and psychological issues including queer & trans identity, love, intimacy, psychoacoustics, and percussion. She has performed around the world and her recent composition “Contralto” continues to see performances at a variety of venues and festivals including Bent Frequency (Atlanta), La Sobilla (Verona), Monday Evening Concerts (Los Angeles), MOCA Tucson, Time-Based Art (Portland, OR), and the Toronto International Film Festival's Bell Lightbox Theatre. Sarah is as deep as they come and this is a good talk.

ADVENTURE  I.  A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIAI.To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer—excellent for drawing the veil from men's motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory. I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us away from each other. My own complete happiness, and the home-centred interests which rise up around the man who first finds himself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to absorb all my attention, while Holmes, who loathed every form of society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature. He was still, as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his immense faculties and extraordinary powers of observation in following out those clues, and clearing up those mysteries which had been abandoned as hopeless by the official police. From time to time I heard some vague account of his doings: of his summons to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff murder, of his clearing up of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson brothers at Trincomalee, and finally of the mission which he had accomplished so delicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland. Beyond these signs of his activity, however, which I merely shared with all the readers of the daily press, I knew little of my former friend and companion. One night—it was on the twentieth of March, 1888—I was returning from a journey to a patient (for I had now returned to civil practice), when my way led me through Baker Street. As I passed the well-remembered door, which must always be associated in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of the Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see Holmes again, and to know how he was employing his extraordinary powers. His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. To me, who knew his every mood and habit, his attitude and manner told their own story. He was at work again. He had risen out of his drug-created dreams and was hot upon the scent of some new problem. I rang the bell and was shown up to the chamber which had formerly been in part my own. His manner was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was glad, I think, to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly eye, he waved me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars, and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene in the corner. Then he stood before the fire and looked me over in his singular introspective fashion. “Wedlock suits you,” he remarked. “I think, Watson, that you have put on seven and a half pounds since I saw you.” “Seven!” I answered. “Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle more, I fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You did not tell me that you intended to go into harness.” “Then, how do you know?” “I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been getting yourself very wet lately, and that you have a most clumsy and careless servant girl?” “My dear Holmes,” said I, “this is too much. You would certainly have been burned, had you lived a few centuries ago. It is true that I had a country walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadful mess, but as I have changed my clothes I can't imagine how you deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife has given her notice, but there, again, I fail to see how you work it out.” He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands together. “It is simplicity itself,” said he; “my eyes tell me that on the inside of your left shoe, just where the firelight strikes it, the leather is scored by six almost parallel cuts. Obviously they have been caused by someone who has very carelessly scraped round the edges of the sole in order to remove crusted mud from it. Hence, you see, my double deduction that you had been out in vile weather, and that you had a particularly malignant boot-slitting specimen of the London slavey. As to your practice, if a gentleman walks into my rooms smelling of iodoform, with a black mark of nitrate of silver upon his right forefinger, and a bulge on the right side of his top-hat to show where he has secreted his stethoscope, I must be dull, indeed, if I do not pronounce him to be an active member of the medical profession.” I could not help laughing at the ease with which he explained his process of deduction. “When I hear you give your reasons,” I remarked, “the thing always appears to me to be so ridiculously simple that I could easily do it myself, though at each successive instance of your reasoning I am baffled until you explain your process. And yet I believe that my eyes are as good as yours.” “Quite so,” he answered, lighting a cigarette, and throwing himself down into an armchair. “You see, but you do not observe. The distinction is clear. For example, you have frequently seen the steps which lead up from the hall to this room.” “Frequently.” “How often?” “Well, some hundreds of times.” “Then how many are there?” “How many? I don't know.” “Quite so! You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That is just my point. Now, I know that there are seventeen steps, because I have both seen and observed. By the way, since you are interested in these little problems, and since you are good enough to chronicle one or two of my trifling experiences, you may be interested in this.” He threw over a sheet of thick, pink-tinted notepaper which had been lying open upon the table. “It came by the last post,” said he. “Read it aloud.” The note was undated, and without either signature or address. “There will call upon you to-night, at a quarter to eight o'clock,” it said, “a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a matter of the very deepest moment. Your recent services to one of the royal houses of Europe have shown that you are one who may safely be trusted with matters which are of an importance which can hardly be exaggerated. This account of you we have from all quarters received. Be in your chamber then at that hour, and do not take it amiss if your visitor wear a mask.” “This is indeed a mystery,” I remarked. “What do you imagine that it means?” “I have no data yet. It is a capital mistake to theorise before one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts. But the note itself. What do you deduce from it?” I carefully examined the writing, and the paper upon which it was written. “The man who wrote it was presumably well to do,” I remarked, endeavouring to imitate my companion's processes. “Such paper could not be bought under half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly strong and stiff.” “Peculiar—that is the very word,” said Holmes. “It is not an English paper at all. Hold it up to the light.” I did so, and saw a large “E” with a small “g,” a “P,” and a large “G” with a small “t” woven into the texture of the paper. “What do you make of that?” asked Holmes. “The name of the maker, no doubt; or his monogram, rather.” “Not at all. The ‘G' with the small ‘t' stands for ‘Gesellschaft,' which is the German for ‘Company.' It is a customary contraction like our ‘Co.' ‘P,' of course, stands for ‘Papier.' Now for the ‘Eg.' Let us glance at our Continental Gazetteer.” He took down a heavy brown volume from his shelves. “Eglow, Eglonitz—here we are, Egria. It is in a German-speaking country—in Bohemia, not far from Carlsbad. ‘Remarkable as being the scene of the death of Wallenstein, and for its numerous glass-factories and paper-mills.' Ha, ha, my boy, what do you make of that?” His eyes sparkled, and he sent up a great blue triumphant cloud from his cigarette. “The paper was made in Bohemia,” I said. “Precisely. And the man who wrote the note is a German. Do you note the peculiar construction of the sentence—‘This account of you we have from all quarters received.' A Frenchman or Russian could not have written that. It is the German who is so uncourteous to his verbs. It only remains, therefore, to discover what is wanted by this German who writes upon Bohemian paper and prefers wearing a mask to showing his face. And here he comes, if I am not mistaken, to resolve all our doubts.” As he spoke there was the sharp sound of horses' hoofs and grating wheels against the curb, followed by a sharp pull at the bell. Holmes whistled. “A pair, by the sound,” said he. “Yes,” he continued, glancing out of the window. “A nice little brougham and a pair of beauties. A hundred and fifty guineas apiece. There's money in this case, Watson, if there is nothing else.” “I think that I had better go, Holmes.” “Not a bit, Doctor. Stay where you are. I am lost without my Boswell. And this promises to be interesting. It would be a pity to miss it.” “But your client—” “Never mind him. I may want your help, and so may he. Here he comes. Sit down in that armchair, Doctor, and give us your best attention.” A slow and heavy step, which had been heard upon the stairs and in the passage, paused immediately outside the door. Then there was a loud and authoritative tap. “Come in!” said Holmes. A man entered who could hardly have been less than six feet six inches in height, with the chest and limbs of a Hercules. His dress was rich with a richness which would, in England, be looked upon as akin to bad taste. Heavy bands of astrakhan were slashed across the sleeves and fronts of his double-breasted coat, while the deep blue cloak which was thrown over his shoulders was lined with flame-coloured silk and secured at the neck with a brooch which consisted of a single flaming beryl. Boots which extended halfway up his calves, and which were trimmed at the tops with rich brown fur, completed the impression of barbaric opulence which was suggested by his whole appearance. He carried a broad-brimmed hat in his hand, while he wore across the upper part of his face, extending down past the cheekbones, a black vizard mask, which he had apparently adjusted that very moment, for his hand was still raised to it as he entered. From the lower part of the face he appeared to be a man of strong character, with a thick, hanging lip, and a long, straight chin suggestive of resolution pushed to the length of obstinacy. “You had my note?” he asked with a deep harsh voice and a strongly marked German accent. “I told you that I would call.” He looked from one to the other of us, as if uncertain which to address. “Pray take a seat,” said Holmes. “This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson, who is occasionally good enough to help me in my cases. Whom have I the honour to address?” “You may address me as the Count Von Kramm, a Bohemian nobleman. I understand that this gentleman, your friend, is a man of honour and discretion, whom I may trust with a matter of the most extreme importance. If not, I should much prefer to communicate with you alone.” I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed me back into my chair. “It is both, or none,” said he. “You may say before this gentleman anything which you may say to me.” The Count shrugged his broad shoulders. “Then I must begin,” said he, “by binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years; at the end of that time the matter will be of no importance. At present it is not too much to say that it is of such weight it may have an influence upon European history.” “I promise,” said Holmes. “And I.” “You will excuse this mask,” continued our strange visitor. “The august person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to you, and I may confess at once that the title by which I have just called myself is not exactly my own.” “I was aware of it,” said Holmes dryly. “The circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precaution has to be taken to quench what might grow to be an immense scandal and seriously compromise one of the reigning families of Europe. To speak plainly, the matter implicates the great House of Ormstein, hereditary kings of Bohemia.” “I was also aware of that,” murmured Holmes, settling himself down in his armchair and closing his eyes. Our visitor glanced with some apparent surprise at the languid, lounging figure of the man who had been no doubt depicted to him as the most incisive reasoner and most energetic agent in Europe. Holmes slowly reopened his eyes and looked impatiently at his gigantic client. “If your Majesty would condescend to state your case,” he remarked, “I should be better able to advise you.” The man sprang from his chair and paced up and down the room in uncontrollable agitation. Then, with a gesture of desperation, he tore the mask from his face and hurled it upon the ground. “You are right,” he cried; “I am the King. Why should I attempt to conceal it?” “Why, indeed?” murmured Holmes. “Your Majesty had not spoken before I was aware that I was addressing Wilhelm Gottsreich Sigismond von Ormstein, Grand Duke of Cassel-Felstein, and hereditary King of Bohemia.” “But you can understand,” said our strange visitor, sitting down once more and passing his hand over his high white forehead, “you can understand that I am not accustomed to doing such business in my own person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could not confide it to an agent without putting myself in his power. I have come incognito from Prague for the purpose of consulting you.” “Then, pray consult,” said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more. “The facts are briefly these: Some five years ago, during a lengthy visit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the well-known adventuress, Irene Adler. The name is no doubt familiar to you.” “Kindly look her up in my index, Doctor,” murmured Holmes without opening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a system of docketing all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that it was difficult to name a subject or a person on which he could not at once furnish information. In this case I found her biography sandwiched in between that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of a staff-commander who had written a monograph upon the deep-sea fishes. “Let me see!” said Holmes. “Hum! Born in New Jersey in the year 1858. Contralto—hum! La Scala, hum! Prima donna Imperial Opera of Warsaw—yes! Retired from operatic stage—ha! Living in London—quite so! Your Majesty, as I understand, became entangled with this young person, wrote her some compromising letters, and is now desirous of getting those letters back.” “Precisely so. But how—” “Was there a secret marriage?” “None.” “No legal papers or certificates?” “None.” “Then I fail to follow your Majesty. If this young person should produce her letters for blackmailing or other purposes, how is she to prove their authenticity?” “There is the writing.” “Pooh, pooh! Forgery.” “My private note-paper.” “Stolen.” “My own seal.” “Imitated.” “My photograph.” “Bought.” “We were both in the photograph.” “Oh, dear! That is very bad! Your Majesty has indeed committed an indiscretion.” “I was mad—insane.” “You have compromised yourself seriously.” “I was only Crown Prince then. I was young. I am but thirty now.” “It must be recovered.” “We have tried and failed.” “Your Majesty must pay. It must be bought.” “She will not sell.” “Stolen, then.” “Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars in my pay ransacked her house. Once we diverted her luggage when she travelled. Twice she has been waylaid. There has been no result.” “No sign of it?” “Absolutely none.” Holmes laughed. “It is quite a pretty little problem,” said he. “But a very serious one to me,” returned the King reproachfully. “Very, indeed. And what does she propose to do with the photograph?” “To ruin me.” “But how?” “I am about to be married.” “So I have heard.” “To Clotilde Lothman von Saxe-Meningen, second daughter of the King of Scandinavia. You may know the strict principles of her family. She is herself the very soul of delicacy. A shadow of a doubt as to my conduct would bring the matter to an end.” “And Irene Adler?” “Threatens to send them the photograph. And she will do it. I know that she will do it. You do not know her, but she has a soul of steel. She has the face of the most beautiful of women, and the mind of the most resolute of men. Rather than I should marry another woman, there are no lengths to which she would not go—none.” “You are sure that she has not sent it yet?” “I am sure.” “And why?” “Because she has said that she would send it on the day when the betrothal was publicly proclaimed. That will be next Monday.” “Oh, then we have three days yet,” said Holmes with a yawn. “That is very fortunate, as I have one or two matters of importance to look into just at present. Your Majesty will, of course, stay in London for the present?” “Certainly. You will find me at the Langham under the name of the Count Von Kramm.” “Then I shall drop you a line to let you know how we progress.” “Pray do so. I shall be all anxiety.” “Then, as to money?” “You have carte blanche.” “Absolutely?” “I tell you that I would give one of the provinces of my kingdom to have that photograph.” “And for present expenses?” The King took a heavy chamois leather bag from under his cloak and laid it on the table. “There are three hundred pounds in gold and seven hundred in notes,” he said. Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his note-book and handed it to him. “And Mademoiselle's address?” he asked. “Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John's Wood.” Holmes took a note of it. “One other question,” said he. “Was the photograph a cabinet?” “It was.” “Then, good-night, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon have some good news for you. And good-night, Watson,” he added, as the wheels of the royal brougham rolled down the street. “If you will be good enough to call to-morrow afternoon at three o'clock I should like to chat this little matter over with you.” II. At three o'clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had not yet returned. The landlady informed me that he had left the house shortly after eight o'clock in the morning. I sat down beside the fire, however, with the intention of awaiting him, however long he might be. I was already deeply interested in his inquiry, for, though it was surrounded by none of the grim and strange features which were associated with the two crimes which I have already recorded, still, the nature of the case and the exalted station of his client gave it a character of its own. Indeed, apart from the nature of the investigation which my friend had on hand, there was something in his masterly grasp of a situation, and his keen, incisive reasoning, which made it a pleasure to me to study his system of work, and to follow the quick, subtle methods by which he disentangled the most inextricable mysteries. So accustomed was I to his invariable success that the very possibility of his failing had ceased to enter into my head. It was close upon four before the door opened, and a drunken-looking groom, ill-kempt and side-whiskered, with an inflamed face and disreputable clothes, walked into the room. Accustomed as I was to my friend's amazing powers in the use of disguises, I had to look three times before I was certain that it was indeed he. With a nod he vanished into the bedroom, whence he emerged in five minutes tweed-suited and respectable, as of old. Putting his hands into his pockets, he stretched out his legs in front of the fire and laughed heartily for some minutes. “Well, really!” he cried, and then he choked and laughed again until he was obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the chair. “What is it?” “It's quite too funny. I am sure you could never guess how I employed my morning, or what I ended by doing.” “I can't imagine. I suppose that you have been watching the habits, and perhaps the house, of Miss Irene Adler.” “Quite so; but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you, however. I left the house a little after eight o'clock this morning in the character of a groom out of work. There is a wonderful sympathy and freemasonry among horsey men. Be one of them, and you will know all that there is to know. I soon found Briony Lodge. It is a bijou villa, with a garden at the back, but built out in front right up to the road, two stories. Chubb lock to the door. Large sitting-room on the right side, well furnished, with long windows almost to the floor, and those preposterous English window fasteners which a child could open. Behind there was nothing remarkable, save that the passage window could be reached from the top of the coach-house. I walked round it and examined it closely from every point of view, but without noting anything else of interest. “I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected, that there was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of the garden. I lent the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses, and received in exchange twopence, a glass of half-and-half, two fills of shag tobacco, and as much information as I could desire about Miss Adler, to say nothing of half a dozen other people in the neighbourhood in whom I was not in the least interested, but whose biographies I was compelled to listen to.” “And what of Irene Adler?” I asked. “Oh, she has turned all the men's heads down in that part. She is the daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the Serpentine-mews, to a man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts, drives out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp for dinner. Seldom goes out at other times, except when she sings. Has only one male visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark, handsome, and dashing, never calls less than once a day, and often twice. He is a Mr. Godfrey Norton, of the Inner Temple. See the advantages of a cabman as a confidant. They had driven him home a dozen times from Serpentine-mews, and knew all about him. When I had listened to all they had to tell, I began to walk up and down near Briony Lodge once more, and to think over my plan of campaign. “This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in the matter. He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was the relation between them, and what the object of his repeated visits? Was she his client, his friend, or his mistress? If the former, she had probably transferred the photograph to his keeping. If the latter, it was less likely. On the issue of this question depended whether I should continue my work at Briony Lodge, or turn my attention to the gentleman's chambers in the Temple. It was a delicate point, and it widened the field of my inquiry. I fear that I bore you with these details, but I have to let you see my little difficulties, if you are to understand the situation.” “I am following you closely,” I answered. “I was still balancing the matter in my mind when a hansom cab drove up to Briony Lodge, and a gentleman sprang out. He was a remarkably handsome man, dark, aquiline, and moustached—evidently the man of whom I had heard. He appeared to be in a great hurry, shouted to the cabman to wait, and brushed past the maid who opened the door with the air of a man who was thoroughly at home. “He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch glimpses of him in the windows of the sitting-room, pacing up and down, talking excitedly, and waving his arms. Of her I could see nothing. Presently he emerged, looking even more flurried than before. As he stepped up to the cab, he pulled a gold watch from his pocket and looked at it earnestly, ‘Drive like the devil,' he shouted, ‘first to Gross & Hankey's in Regent Street, and then to the Church of St. Monica in the Edgeware Road. Half a guinea if you do it in twenty minutes!' “Away they went, and I was just wondering whether I should not do well to follow them when up the lane came a neat little landau, the coachman with his coat only half-buttoned, and his tie under his ear, while all the tags of his harness were sticking out of the buckles. It hadn't pulled up before she shot out of the hall door and into it. I only caught a glimpse of her at the moment, but she was a lovely woman, with a face that a man might die for. “ ‘The Church of St. Monica, John,' she cried, ‘and half a sovereign if you reach it in twenty minutes.' “This was quite too good to lose, Watson. I was just balancing whether I should run for it, or whether I should perch behind her landau when a cab came through the street. The driver looked twice at such a shabby fare, but I jumped in before he could object. ‘The Church of St. Monica,' said I, ‘and half a sovereign if you reach it in twenty minutes.' It was twenty-five minutes to twelve, and of course it was clear enough what was in the wind. “My cabby drove fast. I don't think I ever drove faster, but the others were there before us. The cab and the landau with their steaming horses were in front of the door when I arrived. I paid the man and hurried into the church. There was not a soul there save the two whom I had followed and a surpliced clergyman, who seemed to be expostulating with them. They were all three standing in a knot in front of the altar. I lounged up the side aisle like any other idler who has dropped into a church. Suddenly, to my surprise, the three at the altar faced round to me, and Godfrey Norton came running as hard as he could towards me. “ ‘Thank God,' he cried. ‘You'll do. Come! Come!' “ ‘What then?' I asked. “ ‘Come, man, come, only three minutes, or it won't be legal.' “I was half-dragged up to the altar, and before I knew where I was I found myself mumbling responses which were whispered in my ear, and vouching for things of which I knew nothing, and generally assisting in the secure tying up of Irene Adler, spinster, to Godfrey Norton, bachelor. It was all done in an instant, and there was the gentleman thanking me on the one side and the lady on the other, while the clergyman beamed on me in front. It was the most preposterous position in which I ever found myself in my life, and it was the thought of it that started me laughing just now. It seems that there had been some informality about their license, that the clergyman absolutely refused to marry them without a witness of some sort, and that my lucky appearance saved the bridegroom from having to sally out into the streets in search of a best man. The bride gave me a sovereign, and I mean to wear it on my watch chain in memory of the occasion.” “This is a very unexpected turn of affairs,” said I; “and what then?” “Well, I found my plans very seriously menaced. It looked as if the pair might take an immediate departure, and so necessitate very prompt and energetic measures on my part. At the church door, however, they separated, he driving back to the Temple, and she to her own house. ‘I shall drive out in the park at five as usual,' she said as she left him. I heard no more. They drove away in different directions, and I went off to make my own arrangements.” “Which are?” “Some cold beef and a glass of beer,” he answered, ringing the bell. “I have been too busy to think of food, and I am likely to be busier still this evening. By the way, Doctor, I shall want your co-operation.” “I shall be delighted.” “You don't mind breaking the law?” “Not in the least.” “Nor running a chance of arrest?” “Not in a good cause.” “Oh, the cause is excellent!” “Then I am your man.” “I was sure that I might rely on you.” “But what is it you wish?” “When Mrs. Turner has brought in the tray I will make it clear to you. Now,” he said as he turned hungrily on the simple fare that our landlady had provided, “I must discuss it while I eat, for I have not much time. It is nearly five now. In two hours we must be on the scene of action. Miss Irene, or Madame, rather, returns from her drive at seven. We must be at Briony Lodge to meet her.” “And what then?” “You must leave that to me. I have already arranged what is to occur. There is only one point on which I must insist. You must not interfere, come what may. You understand?” “I am to be neutral?” “To do nothing whatever. There will probably be some small unpleasantness. Do not join in it. It will end in my being conveyed into the house. Four or five minutes afterwards the sitting-room window will open. You are to station yourself close to that open window.” “Yes.” “You are to watch me, for I will be visible to you.” “Yes.” “And when I raise my hand—so—you will throw into the room what I give you to throw, and will, at the same time, raise the cry of fire. You quite follow me?” “Entirely.” “It is nothing very formidable,” he said, taking a long cigar-shaped roll from his pocket. “It is an ordinary plumber's smoke-rocket, fitted with a cap at either end to make it self-lighting. Your task is confined to that. When you raise your cry of fire, it will be taken up by quite a number of people. You may then walk to the end of the street, and I will rejoin you in ten minutes. I hope that I have made myself clear?” “I am to remain neutral, to get near the window, to watch you, and at the signal to throw in this object, then to raise the cry of fire, and to wait you at the corner of the street.” “Precisely.” “Then you may entirely rely on me.” “That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost time that I prepare for the new role I have to play.” He disappeared into his bedroom and returned in a few minutes in the character of an amiable and simple-minded Nonconformist clergyman. His broad black hat, his baggy trousers, his white tie, his sympathetic smile, and general look of peering and benevolent curiosity were such as Mr. John Hare alone could have equalled. It was not merely that Holmes changed his costume. His expression, his manner, his very soul seemed to vary with every fresh part that he assumed. The stage lost a fine actor, even as science lost an acute reasoner, when he became a specialist in crime. It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street, and it still wanted ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves in Serpentine Avenue. It was already dusk, and the lamps were just being lighted as we paced up and down in front of Briony Lodge, waiting for the coming of its occupant. The house was just such as I had pictured it from Sherlock Holmes' succinct description, but the locality appeared to be less private than I expected. On the contrary, for a small street in a quiet neighbourhood, it was remarkably animated. There was a group of shabbily dressed men smoking and laughing in a corner, a scissors-grinder with his wheel, two guardsmen who were flirting with a nurse-girl, and several well-dressed young men who were lounging up and down with cigars in their mouths. “You see,” remarked Holmes, as we paced to and fro in front of the house, “this marriage rather simplifies matters. The photograph becomes a double-edged weapon now. The chances are that she would be as averse to its being seen by Mr. Godfrey Norton, as our client is to its coming to the eyes of his princess. Now the question is, Where are we to find the photograph?” “Where, indeed?” “It is most unlikely that she carries it about with her. It is cabinet size. Too large for easy concealment about a woman's dress. She knows that the King is capable of having her waylaid and searched. Two attempts of the sort have already been made. We may take it, then, that she does not carry it about with her.” “Where, then?” “Her banker or her lawyer. There is that double possibility. But I am inclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive, and they like to do their own secreting. Why should she hand it over to anyone else? She could trust her own guardianship, but she could not tell what indirect or political influence might be brought to bear upon a business man. Besides, remember that she had resolved to use it within a few days. It must be where she can lay her hands upon it. It must be in her own house.” “But it has twice been burgled.” “Pshaw! They did not know how to look.” “But how will you look?” “I will not look.” “What then?” “I will get her to show me.” “But she will refuse.” “She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of wheels. It is her carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter.” As he spoke the gleam of the sidelights of a carriage came round the curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau which rattled up to the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up, one of the loafing men at the corner dashed forward to open the door in the hope of earning a copper, but was elbowed away by another loafer, who had rushed up with the same intention. A fierce quarrel broke out, which was increased by the two guardsmen, who took sides with one of the loungers, and by the scissors-grinder, who was equally hot upon the other side. A blow was struck, and in an instant the lady, who had stepped from her carriage, was the centre of a little knot of flushed and struggling men, who struck savagely at each other with their fists and sticks. Holmes dashed into the crowd to protect the lady; but, just as he reached her, he gave a cry and dropped to the ground, with the blood running freely down his face. At his fall the guardsmen took to their heels in one direction and the loungers in the other, while a number of better dressed people, who had watched the scuffle without taking part in it, crowded in to help the lady and to attend to the injured man. Irene Adler, as I will still call her, had hurried up the steps; but she stood at the top with her superb figure outlined against the lights of the hall, looking back into the street. “Is the poor gentleman much hurt?” she asked. “He is dead,” cried several voices. “No, no, there's life in him!” shouted another. “But he'll be gone before you can get him to hospital.” “He's a brave fellow,” said a woman. “They would have had the lady's purse and watch if it hadn't been for him. They were a gang, and a rough one, too. Ah, he's breathing now.” “He can't lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm?” “Surely. Bring him into the sitting-room. There is a comfortable sofa. This way, please!” Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge and laid out in the principal room, while I still observed the proceedings from my post by the window. The lamps had been lit, but the blinds had not been drawn, so that I could see Holmes as he lay upon the couch. I do not know whether he was seized with compunction at that moment for the part he was playing, but I know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of myself in my life than when I saw the beautiful creature against whom I was conspiring, or the grace and kindliness with which she waited upon the injured man. And yet it would be the blackest treachery to Holmes to draw back now from the part which he had intrusted to me. I hardened my heart, and took the smoke-rocket from under my ulster. After all, I thought, we are not injuring her. We are but preventing her from injuring another. Holmes had sat up upon the couch, and I saw him motion like a man who is in need of air. A maid rushed across and threw open the window. At the same instant I saw him raise his hand and at the signal I tossed my rocket into the room with a cry of “Fire!” The word was no sooner out of my mouth than the whole crowd of spectators, well dressed and ill—gentlemen, ostlers, and servant maids—joined in a general shriek of “Fire!” Thick clouds of smoke curled through the room and out at the open window. I caught a glimpse of rushing figures, and a moment later the voice of Holmes from within assuring them that it was a false alarm. Slipping through the shouting crowd I made my way to the corner of the street, and in ten minutes was rejoiced to find my friend's arm in mine, and to get away from the scene of uproar. He walked swiftly and in silence for some few minutes until we had turned down one of the quiet streets which lead towards the Edgeware Road. “You did it very nicely, Doctor,” he remarked. “Nothing could have been better. It is all right.” “You have the photograph?” “I know where it is.” “And how did you find out?” “She showed me, as I told you she would.” “I am still in the dark.” “I do not wish to make a mystery,” said he, laughing. “The matter was perfectly simple. You, of course, saw that everyone in the street was an accomplice. They were all engaged for the evening.” “I guessed as much.” “Then, when the row broke out, I had a little moist red paint in the palm of my hand. I rushed forward, fell down, clapped my hand to my face, and became a piteous spectacle. It is an old trick.” “That also I could fathom.” “Then they carried me in. She was bound to have me in. What else could she do? And into her sitting-room, which was the very room which I suspected. It lay between that and her bedroom, and I was determined to see which. They laid me on a couch, I motioned for air, they were compelled to open the window, and you had your chance.” “How did that help you?” “It was all-important. When a woman thinks that her house is on fire, her instinct is at once to rush to the thing which she values most. It is a perfectly overpowering impulse, and I have more than once taken advantage of it. In the case of the Darlington Substitution Scandal it was of use to me, and also in the Arnsworth Castle business. A married woman grabs at her baby; an unmarried one reaches for her jewel-box. Now it was clear to me that our lady of to-day had nothing in the house more precious to her than what we are in quest of. She would rush to secure it. The alarm of fire was admirably done. The smoke and shouting were enough to shake nerves of steel. She responded beautifully. The photograph is in a recess behind a sliding panel just above the right bell-pull. She was there in an instant, and I caught a glimpse of it as she half drew it out. When I cried out that it was a false alarm, she replaced it, glanced at the rocket, rushed from the room, and I have not seen her since. I rose, and, making my excuses, escaped from the house. I hesitated whether to attempt to secure the photograph at once; but the coachman had come in, and as he was watching me narrowly, it seemed safer to wait. A little over-precipitance may ruin all.” “And now?” I asked. “Our quest is practically finished. I shall call with the King to-morrow, and with you, if you care to come with us. We will be shown into the sitting-room to wait for the lady, but it is probable that when she comes she may find neither us nor the photograph. It might be a satisfaction to his Majesty to regain it with his own hands.” “And when will you call?” “At eight in the morning. She will not be up, so that we shall have a clear field. Besides, we must be prompt, for this marriage may mean a complete change in her life and habits. I must wire to the King without delay.” We had reached Baker Street and had stopped at the door. He was searching his pockets for the key when someone passing said: “Good-night, Mister Sherlock Holmes.” There were several people on the pavement at the time, but the greeting appeared to come from a slim youth in an ulster who had hurried by. “I've heard that voice before,” said Holmes, staring down the dimly lit street. “Now, I wonder who the deuce that could have been.” III. I slept at Baker Street that night, and we were engaged upon our toast and coffee in the morning when the King of Bohemia rushed into the room. “You have really got it!” he cried, grasping Sherlock Holmes by either shoulder and looking eagerly into his face. “Not yet.” “But you have hopes?” “I have hopes.” “Then, come. I am all impatience to be gone.” “We must have a cab.” “No, my brougham is waiting.” “Then that will simplify matters.” We descended and started off once more for Briony Lodge. “Irene Adler is married,” remarked Holmes. “Married! When?” “Yesterday.” “But to whom?” “To an English lawyer named Norton.” “But she could not love him.” “I am in hopes that she does.” “And why in hopes?” “Because it would spare your Majesty all fear of future annoyance. If the lady loves her husband, she does not love your Majesty. If she does not love your Majesty, there is no reason why she should interfere with your Majesty's plan.” “It is true. And yet—! Well! I wish she had been of my own station! What a queen she would have made!” He relapsed into a moody silence, which was not broken until we drew up in Serpentine Avenue. The door of Briony Lodge was open, and an elderly woman stood upon the steps. She watched us with a sardonic eye as we stepped from the brougham. “Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I believe?” said she. “I am Mr. Holmes,” answered my companion, looking at her with a questioning and rather startled gaze. “Indeed! My mistress told me that you were likely to call. She left this morning with her husband by the 5:15 train from Charing Cross for the Continent.” “What!” Sherlock Holmes staggered back, white with chagrin and surprise. “Do you mean that she has left England?” “Never to return.” “And the papers?” asked the King hoarsely. “All is lost.” “We shall see.” He pushed past the servant and rushed into the drawing-room, followed by the King and myself. The furniture was scattered about in every direction, with dismantled shelves and open drawers, as if the lady had hurriedly ransacked them before her flight. Holmes rushed at the bell-pull, tore back a small sliding shutter, and, plunging in his hand, pulled out a photograph and a letter. The photograph was of Irene Adler herself in evening dress, the letter was superscribed to “Sherlock Holmes, Esq. To be left till called for.” My friend tore it open, and we all three read it together. It was dated at midnight of the preceding night and ran in this way: “MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES,—You really did it very well. You took me in completely. Until after the alarm of fire, I had not a suspicion. But then, when I found how I had betrayed myself, I began to think. I had been warned against you months ago. I had been told that, if the King employed an agent, it would certainly be you. And your address had been given me. Yet, with all this, you made me reveal what you wanted to know. Even after I became suspicious, I found it hard to think evil of such a dear, kind old clergyman. But, you know, I have been trained as an actress myself. Male costume is nothing new to me. I often take advantage of the freedom which it gives. I sent John, the coachman, to watch you, ran upstairs, got into my walking clothes, as I call them, and came down just as you departed. “Well, I followed you to your door, and so made sure that I was really an object of interest to the celebrated Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Then I, rather imprudently, wished you good-night, and started for the Temple to see my husband.“We both thought the best resource was flight, when pursued by so formidable an antagonist; so you will find the nest empty when you call to-morrow. As to the photograph, your client may rest in peace. I love and am loved by a better man than he. The King may do what he will without hindrance from one whom he has cruelly wronged. I keep it only to safeguard myself, and to preserve a weapon which will always secure me from any steps which he might take in the future. I leave a photograph which he might care to possess; and I remain, dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes, “Very truly yours,             “IRENE NORTON, n�e ADLER.” “What a woman—oh, what a woman!” cried the King of Bohemia, when we had all three read this epistle. “Did I not tell you how quick and resolute she was? Would she not have made an admirable queen? Is it not a pity that she was not on my level?” “From what I have seen of the lady, she seems, indeed, to be on a very different level to your Majesty,” said Holmes coldly. “I am sorry that I have not been able to bring your Majesty's business to a more successful conclusion.” “On the contrary, my dear sir,” cried the King; “nothing could be more successful. I know that her word is inviolate. The photograph is now as safe as if it were in the fire.” “I am glad to hear your Majesty say so.” “I am immensely indebted to you. Pray tell me in what way I can reward you. This ring—” He slipped an emerald snake ring from his finger and held it out upon the palm of his hand. “Your Majesty has something which I should value even more highly,” said Holmes. “You have but to name it.” “This photograph!” The King stared at him in amazement. “Irene's photograph!” he cried. “Certainly, if you wish it.” “I thank your Majesty. Then there is no more to be done in the matter. I have the honour to wish you a very good morning.” He bowed, and, turning away without observing the hand which the King had stretched out to him, he set off in my company for his chambers. And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect the kingdom of Bohemia, and how the best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were beaten by a woman's wit. He used to make merry over the cleverness of women, but I have not heard him do it of late. And when he speaks of Irene Adler, or when he refers to her photograph, it is always under the honourable title of the woman.