his will.
In the same way he has studied the masterpieces of Russian art to good
purpose, as all must agree who have compared the scene of Ivan's
frenzied grief over the corpse of Olga, in the last scene of
Rimsky-Korsakow's opera, with Repin's terrible picture of the Tsar,
clasping in his arms the body of the son whom he has just killed in a
fit of insane anger. The agonizing remorse and piteous senile grief have
been transformed from Repin's canvas to Shaliapin's living picture,
without the revolting suggestion of the shambles which mars the
painter's work. Sometimes, too, Shaliapin will take a hint from the
living model. His dignified make-up as the Old Believer Dositheus, in
Moussorgsky's _Khovanstchina_, owes not a little to the personality of
Vladimir Stassov."

Chaliapine, it seems to me, has realized more completely than any other
contemporary singer the opportunities afforded for the presentation of
character on the lyric stage. In costume, make-up, gesture, the
simulation of emotion, he is a consummate and painstaking artist. As I
have suggested, he has limitations. Who, indeed, has not? Grandeur,
nobility, impressiveness, and, by inversion, sordidness, bestiality, and
awkward ugliness fall easily within his ken. The murder-haunted Boris
Godunow is perhaps his most overpowering creation. From first to last it
is a masterpiece of scenic art; those who have seen him in this part
will not be satisfied with substitutes. His Ivan is almost equally
great. His Dositheus, head of the Old Believers in _Khovanchina_, is a
sincere and effective characterization along entirely different lines.
Although this character, in a sense, dominates Moussorgsky's great
opera, there is little opportunity for the display of histrionism which
Boris presents to the singing actor. By almost insignificant details of
make-up and gesture the bass creates before your eyes a living,
breathing man, a man of fire and faith. No one would recognize in this
kind old creature, terrible, to be sure, in his stern piety, the nude
Mefistofele surveying the pranks of the motley rabble in the Brocken
scene of Boito's opera, a flamboyant exposure of personality to be
compared with Mary Garden's Thais, Act I.

As the Tartar chieftain in _Prince Igor_, he has but few lines to sing,
but his gestures during the performance of the ballet, which he has
arranged for his guest, in fact his actions throughout the single act in
which this character appears, are