DIY History | Transcribe | World War I Diaries and Letters | Conger Reynolds newspaper clippings, 1916-1919 | 1916-07-15 Des Moines Capital Clipping: ""Indescribable Scenes as Mlle Chenal Sings the Marseillaise to Vast Crowd in Paris Theater"" by Conger Reynolds Page 3

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Conger Reynolds newspaper clippings, 1916-1919

1916-07-15 Des Moines Capital Clipping: ""Indescribable Scenes as Mlle Chenal Sings the Marseillaise to Vast Crowd in Paris Theater"" by Conger Reynolds Page 3

Her voice became rich in its power as it rose to the high notes. She stamped to right, then to left. She faced back and flung out her arms to the gallery. By every movement and gesture as well as by her intonation she made the words live. She finished the verse and the orchestra drums, bands and chorus joined with her on the refrain. 
The applause was almost indescribable. In every row of the house men and women pounded hand on hand, and shouts of "Bravo!" broke everywhere thru the storm. For a minute or two it lasted, until Chenal again raised her arm. Silence, as intense as the applause had been succeeded in the moment before she began the second verse. Again her interpretation brought applause that was near pandemonium. 
Spirit of France.
Then came the final verse. Chenal looked out over her audience with and expression that had in it something of pity, something of pride, something of defiance, something of pleading, something of glory, something of agony, something of everything heroic. Her breast was heaving, and on the first notes her voice was very near a hoarse whisper. The audience watched her in rapt fascination. There were tears in many eyes. As the music swelled her voice rose to full grandeur and the glorious words rang firm and strong. She became the very spirit of France calling her people to their destiny. No adjectives remain with which to indicate the full measure of the ecstasy which this final verse caused from the audience. Hardened soldiers were as moved as women and children. The curtain went down on the magnificent spectacle of the spirit of France triumphant, but the audience would not be satisfied. Chenal was forced by their applause and cries to come back and sing the verse again, and then again, until it was plain that she had drawn too heavily upon her strength to continue further. 
Riot of Patriotism.
It was not the first time that Chenal had moved a French audience so. She has been doing it at frequent intervals during the war. Whenever she sings the Marseillaise it is certain that there will be something very near a riot of patriotic enthusiasm. And if anyone believes that the feeling expressed when the French go wild over their national hymn is superficial all he needs to do is to observe the sacrifices the whole nation is making nowadays and the willingness with which they are being made and he will see that there is something behind the noise.

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Her voice became rich in its power as it rose to the high notes. She stamped to right, then to left. She faced back and flung out her arms to the gallery. By every movement and gesture as well as by her intonation she made the words live. She finished the verse and the orchestra drums, bands and chorus joined with her on the refrain. The applause was almost indescribable. In every row of the house men and women pounded hand on hand, and shouts of "Bravo!" broke everywhere thru the storm. For a minute or two it lasted, until Chenal again raised her arm. Silence, as intense as the applause had been succeeded in the moment before she began the second verse. Again her interpretation brought applause that was near pandemonium. Spirit of France. Then came the final verse. Chenal looked out over her audience with and expression that had in it something of pity, something of pride, something of defiance, something of pleading, something of glory, something of agony, something of everything heroic. Her breast was heaving, and on the first notes her voice was very near a hoarse whisper. The audience watched her in rapt fascination. There were tears in many eyes. As the music swelled her voice rose to full grandeur and the glorious words rang firm and strong. She became the very spirit of France calling her people to their destiny. No adjectives remain with which to indicate the full measure of the ecstasy which this final verse caused from the audience. Hardened soldiers were as moved as women and children. The curtain went down on the magnificent spectacle of the spirit of France triumphant, but the audience would not be satisfied. Chenal was forced by their applause and cries to come back and sing the verse again, and then again, until it was plain that she had drawn too heavily upon her strength to continue further. Riot of Patriotism. It was not the first time that Chenal had moved a French audience so. She has been doing it at frequent intervals during the war. Whenever she sings the Marseillaise it is certain that there will be something very near a riot of patriotic enthusiasm. And if anyone believes that the feeling expressed when the French go wild over their national hymn is superficial all he needs to do is to observe the sacrifices the whole nation is making nowadays and the willingness with which they are being made and he will see that there is something behind the noise.