In the annals of vocal history the French soprano, Mado Robin occupies a singular position.  Contrary to what many believe it is not just because she possessed a range to C above high C.  There have been other artists who could ascend as high, such as Erna Sack.  Rather it is because of all such similarly gifted artists only Mado Robin managed to have a successful international career on the lyric stage.  But she was much more than just a vocal curiosity.  Her singing stood for a certain humble graciousness that to this day, some forty years after her death, touches the hearts of many.  Adored in her native country, her untimely death on December 10, 1960, of Leukemia, at the age of 41, was marked by moments of silence throughout theaters in France.

Mado was born on December 29, 1918, in the small town of Yzeures-sur-Creuse in Touraine, France, and was christened Madeleine Marie Robin.  While young, she and her two sisters were raised in a musical environment.  It wasn't until she was 13 that she began to study voice with Madame Fourestier for her personal pleasure.  A few years later the famous baritone, Titta Ruffo, happened to hear her and recommended her to his friend, Mario Podesta.  For the first four years that Mado worked with Podesta she never went beyond high E.  But coinciding with her studies was the furor caused by a recital given at the the Salle Gaveau by the German soprano, Erna Sack .  All of Podesta's students were talking about Sack's phenomenal high notes and Mado, thinking she might be able to do something similar, found she could go even higher.

(In private Mado vocalized to the D above high D but generally confined her interpolations to B flat and B natural above high C.  A private tape from 1942 exists, however, of her rehearsing "Una voce poco fa" from Il Barbiere di Siviglia in which she sustains the C above high C.)

In 1937, at the age of nineteen, Mado won first prize in a contest for sopranos organized by the Paris Opera and in 1942, with the help of Podesta and Monsieur Pathe, was presented in recital at the Salle Gaveau in Paris.  Although she was an immediate success, because of the war her stage debut was delayed until 1945 when she debuted at the Paris Opera as Gilda in Rigoletto.  In September 1946, she made her debut at the Opera Comique as Lakmé and shortly thereafter began accepting appearances outside France.  Her roles included Rosina, Lucia, Queen of the Night, Olympia, Ophelia, Philine, Leila, and her preferred role, Lakmé.

Independently wealthy Mado was free to pick and choose when and where she sang and because it was important to her to devote time to her husband and daughter, she limited her singing engagements.  She was hardly idle, however.  During the next decade she performed in both Paris houses, the provinces of France, as well as in Italy, Spain, Belgium, Germany, Monte Carlo, England, Canada, Russia, the United States, North Africa and Switzerland.

Her final public appearance was at Aix-les-Bains on July 28, 1960 during the gala, Pride and Glory of France.  Shortly after this she began rehearsals for Lakmé at the Opera Comique.  This was a new production marking the 1,500th performance of the opera at that theater.  It was a gift to the soprano from the Opera acknowledging her great success with the role as well as her contributions in promoting the music of France.  Even more fitting, the premiere was to be given on her 42nd birthday.  Unfortunately, her illness forced her to withdraw from rehearsals and she died December 10, only 19 days before the premiere.

Americans know Mado Robin not only from her recordings but also because of her infamous appearances as Gilda in Rigoletto and Lucia di Lammermoor in San Francisco and Los Angeles in September of 1954.  Not surprisingly, there had been considerable news coverage about the extent of her high register preceding her arrival at the San Francisco Opera.  Unfortunately, because of this Mado found herself caught between a public that expected her to display such notes and a hostile conductor (Fausto Cleva) who demanded she omit her planned interpolation of an octave leap to B above high C at the end of Gilda's "Caro nome." In a rare show of defiance, Mado refused to bend to Cleva's threats and sang the note.

Cleva, furious, refused to conduct the next performance but ironically, during that performance, Mado chose not to sing the high B.  It was no longer necessary, she had made her point.  (The emotional turmoil she suffered because of this situation, however, was poignantly revealed in private letters written to her sisters during this time )

Although reviews generally deplored the interpolation, colleagues (which included Leonard Warren and Richard Tucker) and others have said that Mado was a moving Gilda - with or without the top B.

Compared to many other singers, Mado Robin was an anomaly in that she was completely unpretentious.  She was well known for her gentle kindness, was very supportive of colleagues and young artists and showed extraordinary humility.  And there was an elegance in her modesty.  Robert Deniau, her representative, perhaps summed up it up best when he said, "She always seemed to be excusing herself for having talent."

It is this sweet gentleness that comes across so vividly on recordings and in live performances.  At times, during lyrical moments and extreme ascents, there is an almost spiritual purity in Mado's singing, an ingenuousness in her charming timbre that is immediately appealing.

She was not, however, a perfect technician.  Despite fame as a florid specialist, Mado's technical battery was actually quite sketchy: coloratura was often unclear, helped by disruptive aspirates, and there was no trill.  Contributing to this was the inherent structure of her larynx and its resulting, naturally rapid vibrato which did not lend itself to cleanly articulating elaborate figurations - a physical limitation rather than one of training.  And her chest voice was practically non existent - her voice seeming to begin around E at the bottom of the staff.  Her ability to easily sustain B flats above high C was, however, extraordinary.  These were not tiny, whistle-notes disconnected from more normal regions like those of Erna Sack.  Amazingly, they were an integral part of Mado's instrument, rich in upper harmonics and possessing the same shimmering vibrancy as the rest of her voice.  They were also capable of ringing projection and staggering impact as you will hear in many selections on this generous CD.  Because of her girlish timbre and the height to which she ascended, however, listeners often experience an aural phenomenon - high D and E sound like middle voice and the mind's ear becomes confused as to the normal height of a human voice.

Initially Mado recorded for French Pathe (1942-1949) but in 1950 signed with Decca for whom she made a number of now-famous operatic recitals.  (In 1955 she returned to Pathe - EMI.) Decca's engineers managed to capture the individual, reedy quality of her middle register and the rich fullness of her top register with astonishing fidelity and her most famous recording remains the complete Lakmé, recorded in 1952, which won the Grand Prix du Disque.  This is a classic set for the combination of Sebastian's loving, idiomatic conducting, Mado's simple, eloquent interpretation of Lakmé and Jean Borthayre's proud yet sensitive portrayal of Nilakantha's intense personal struggle.  It is most unfortunate that this has yet to be transferred to CD.

Fortunately, her work was captured live, not only on audio tape but also video.  The video clips (mostly from concerts) are particularly instructive.  They clearly show her easy, open-throated singing with no manipulating mannerisms - even when offering her famous B flat above high C.  (It seems that Mado never complained of throat tension but did remark on the habitual soreness of her diaphragm and back muscles - so necessary in supporting such high excursions.)

And although Mado's demeanor hardly matched the chic glamour of such 1950s divas as Callas or Tebaldi, there was a welcome normalcy to her (at times) obvious uncertainty about what to do with her arms while in concert.  Actually, her proud but provincial bearing is rather endearing.  It is what one would expect from a friend who had agreed to sing at a party rather than an internationally famous diva.

Comparisons between live and commercial recordings are also illuminating.  Whether in front of a microphone or an audience, Mado was remarkably consistent.  And despite the exhibitionistic aspects of her art she showed surprising taste and discretion - usually reserving her stratospheric interpolations for appropriate moments.

Favorites with listeners remain the Bell Song from Lakmé with her trademark high G sharp.  (As if in honor of Mado's memory, Natalie Dessay adopted this variant for a number of years.) Also the Waltz Song from Mireille, Mad Scenes from Hamlet and Lucia - the latter capped with her famous B flat above high C, as well as the "Carnival of Venice Variations" and "Chanson Provencal" where she also displayed her remarkable top B flat.

Henry Jacqueton once complimented Mado for having remained so modest and simple despite her tremendous international success.  She looked at him with surprise and replied, "I truly do not see what I have done to be vain about".

I beg to differ.