Writing Women In: Mary Postans and the year was 1828

It is particularly odd that Mary Postans (1808-1891) did not feature for Henry Chorley as a musician of merit who had studied at the Academy. As Mrs Shaw, she had the kind of career that made her famous in her lifetime and has kept her memory in the public eye since. One can find several good biographies through an online search, so while I am about to write yet another one, I’m particularly interested in the ways that her career is similar to that of Anna Bishop (Anna Rivière), who had been in the Academy four years before her, yet was seen in such a different light. While Anna Bishop was scandalous, Mrs Alfred Shaw was a model of propriety.

Mary’s father, Thomas Postans applied direct to the Committee for his daughter’s admission to the Academy, and she was admitted in October 1828 to study singing, Italian, harmony, harp and piano. She did extremely well in singing, being chosen for solos in the public concerts within a year, but the other subjects were clearly neither of interest nor to her talents – a note after the July examinations of 1830 found her progress in harp, piano and harmony ‘very unsatisfactory (censure particularly)’. No good conduct prize for Miss Postans, unlike Miss Rivière several years previously. Despite this more general disappointment, she was first for singing in 1831, winning the silver medal. Mary was a contralto. Her repertoire was mostly Italian, ranging from composers such as Rossini and Spohr to fellow-student attempts to emulate the ‘Italian’ style. Her Handel interpretations also seem to have gained particular praise; when she sang ‘He was despised’ in April 1830, one paper commented that it had been ‘sung in a style remarkably well adapted to give the melancholy song its true effect.’ Mary appeared in almost all the concerts mounted during her studentship, eventually usurping students who had been at the Academy longer, a deciding factor in Anna’s decision to leave in 1828, when she felt she was not being offered sufficient opportunity to showcase her voice. Mary left three years later, departing almost immediately for Italy, where she studied for three years with superstars Velluti and Catalani. Her return to British shores was showcased in a concert at the Hanover Sqaure Rooms, in aid of the Royal Academy of Music:

The only novelty was the first appearance of Miss Postans before a public audience. This young lady was, we believe, originally a pupil of the Royal Academy of Music, but she has for these last three years been in Italy under the first masters, and has been indebted to the aid of Madame Catalani for her proficiency and excellence. Miss Postans possesses a contralto voice of considerable power and compass, and sings with a spirit and execution which predict most favourably for her future success; she was received with the unqualified applause of her auditory.

It would be a decade before Anna followed in her footsteps and travelled to Italy.

Up until this point, Mary had been performing under the name of Postans, but her marriage to artist Alfred Shaw saw her change her name to Mrs Alfred Shaw. This union was to have an enormous impact on her career, although quite differently from the impact that Anna’s marriage to Henry Bishop did for her. Not many years after the wedding, Alfred became ill and was eventually declared insane and consigned to an asylum. Mary continued to be an active performer, even after the birth of her children, travelling around Britain and Europe to appear in concert, oratorio and opera. She was extremely successful in the 1830s and early 1840s, being greeted with warm reviews:

It is with feelings of the deepest delight that the British public must hail the brilliant star that has arisen to illuminate the musical world— the Arsace of the evening, Mrs. Alfred Shaw. With a contralto voice of great depth and softness of tone, the purest intonation, the most distinct enunciation, and the most finished taste, delicacy of style, and skilful execution, she unites a perfect dignity of manner, with refined and intellectual grace of action. The singers of the present day have, in a great degree been content to sacrifice feeling and expression to rapid and brilliant execution. They have sought rather to surprise than to interest their audience. The recitative has been slurred over, the andante disfigured with ornament, and the standard of perfection reduced to mere mechanical practice and dexterity; but Mrs. Alfred Shaw has appeared amongst us as a dream of the past – as an echo of the never-to-be- forgotten Malibran; and I would gratefully acknowledge the pleasure with which I listened once more to that expressive, pure and truly beautiful style of singing I had scarcely hoped to hear again. Her recitative is perfect: every note was firm and true, every word as clear and distinct, as the gesture that accompanies it is graceful and appropriate. There is no ranting – no abruptness – no inequality in her performance; no straining after effect, no contortions of face, no extravagance of action, though her expressive countenance is an index to the character she personates – a bright page on which the various emotions are writ in radiant colours.

Unfortunately, the enormous psychological strain of her ill husband proved too much for Mary, who began to have vocal problems and eventually retired from the stage at an early age. After Alfred Shaw’s death in 1847 (in the same month as her close friend Felix Mendelssohn, a double blow that exacerbated her vocal strain), she would later remarry and bear another four children. To all accounts, both marriages were very happy, although Mary’s later years were again beset with tragedy and ill-health. She died in 1876 at the age of 62.

Mary is a rare example of a singer who managed to cross socially imposed lines, between music and family or career and domesticity, between ‘English’ and ‘Italian’ singing, without a blemish on her feminine character. Anna did not manage this, in large part because of her life choices, including leaving her children to follow her musical dream. Mary managed to remain within those socially ascribed wifely and motherly roles (for example, her daughter travelled with her) while fulfilling what was actually an ambitious career. As Victorian sensibilities tended to be sympathetic to women ‘forced’ into the provider role by the death or incapacity of a father or husband, one can’t help but wonder how much Alfred’s illness helped her in this.

Click here to listen to Violeta Urmana singing Cuniza’s aria from Verdi’s first opera Oberto, which Mary premiered in 1839, the only non-Italian singer in the cast.

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Writing Women In: Emma Stubbs and the year was 1827