By Diane Euston
Her story somewhat disappeared amidst her thousands of miles of travel as she made a name for herself as a star of the comedic opera circuit. She spent her life, as she later explained, moving toward fame and fashion in a time of the latter part of the 19th century when the stage was where modern celebrities were first born.
Alice Nielsen isn’t usually recorded on the lists of Kansas City’s most famous former residents, and if she is, most people haven’t paused to find out who this woman was in life.
But her life takes us back to a time when live theater was the most significant form of entertainment. Theater – and live musical performances – were at the cradle of society. Kansas City showed itself as a leading midwestern city when the Coates Opera House opened in 1870.
Kansas City further showed itself as a blossoming metropolis when the city grew large enough to be home to two modern theaters when the Gillis Opera House opened in 1883.
Alice Nielsen was here at the time, watching and wishing and hoping for her time to shine. Her 40-year career started right here – right in the heart of our city in the Heart of America.
Alice Nielsen’s Family
Alice Nielsen’s pedigree didn’t scream for stardom, but it does resemble the stories of so many immigrants who chose to risk everything for a better future.
Her father, Erasmus Ivarious Nielsen was born in 1834 in Hundslund, Aarhus, Denmark to mother, Bolette and father, Rasmus, a local school teacher.
Erasmus wished for more than what was offered in Denmark, so by 1853 at the age of 19, he boarded a ship to start a new life in the United States. He made his living as a painter.
Alice’s mother, Sarah Kilroy, was born to Irish immigrants in Boston in 1836. Raised a staunch Catholic and as an Irish Nationalist, Sarah was sent to live with her aunt in Joliet, Ill. From there, she and her cousin were sent to South Bend, Ind. to attend St. Mary’s School.
Had she not met Erasmus, Sarah Kilroy was likely to join a convent. But it wasn’t to be so; Sarah fell in love with the 5’6”, brown hair and gray-eyed Erasmus and married him. The couple settled in Pontiac, Ill. where Sarah worked as a milliner and her husband painted signs for the railroad.
The couple welcomed their first child, Mary Ann, in 1859.
By later accounts, Erasmus was a bit of a dreamer. Sarah once told her daughter, “It would take him a year to complete a day’s travel.” It was likely this spirit that partly guided Erasmus to join the Union Army as part of Co. A, 129th Regiment, Illinois Infantry in 1862.
On July 20, 1864 at the Battle of Peach Tree Creek in Georgia, Erasums was injured “severely” in the chest and shoulder. Alice later wrote, “The arm became paralyzed and he was thus, a cripple, but a light-hearted one.”
It was this injury and a pension of just $12 per month that led their small family to relocate to Nashville, Tenn. after the war. There, three daughters were born: Annie (b. 1866), Hortense (b. 1868) and Alice (b. 1872)
By 1873, the family was on the move again, settling in Warrensburg, Mo. where their final child, a boy named Erasmus, was born. They lived in a small white cottage on a knoll on West Pine Street.
Tragedy struck the young family in January 1877 when Erasmus Nielson passed away at the age of 42 inside the little cottage. He was buried at Sunset Hill Cemetery, and Sarah was left with four daughters and one son all under the age of 10 to raise all on her own.
Friends told her that in her condition, a bigger city may have more to offer in employment, so Sarah packed up her children and moved 60 miles northwest to Kansas City.
Showcasing the Small Talents
Living at various addresses in downtown Kansas City, Sarah Nielsen did her best to make a life for her children and even saved enough money to send her young girls to St. Teresa’s Academy at 12th and Washington.
Her mother worked in the early 1880s to support her family as a milliner and at Woolf Brothers, a high-end department store, at 5th and Main. Alice’s oldest sister, Mary Ann, developed a reputation for singing in the Catholic churches.
Alice recalled a fond memory of her days at St. Teresa’s where she performed in a production as “The Tardy Scholar.” Alice later recalled, “In the familiar old schoolroom scene I appeared with dirty face, disheveled hair, unbuttoned dress, unlaced shows and sang ‘The Tardy Scholar.’”
She was especially drawn to the theater, and the Coates Opera House was steps away from her school. She recalled in Collier’s Magazine fond memories of her childhood in Kansas City. She was known on Kansas City’s streets as “that Nielsen child” that would sing to anyone who would listen.
But one specific incident where she was able to “perform” despite the ongoing protests from long-time Coates Opera House manager, Melville “Mel” Hudson (1845-1907) really stuck out in her memory.
When she was about eight years old, she stood outside of the impressive Coates Opera House, looking for any chance to sneak inside to be closer to the action. One day, she was able to escape past the manager, Mel, and even though the theater was dark and closed, the little girl felt her way to the middle of the stage.
There, she cleared her throat and sung “Thou Art So Near and Yet So Far,” a song she learned from her oldest sister, Mary. There was no true audience and no applause – but in Alice’s eight-year-old mind, she envisioned a roaring crowd giving her a standing ovation.
The reality of the moment was much different. Mel Hudson caught little Alice and chased her out of the theater, screaming, “Gwan’ home and stay home!”
Undeterred and possibly emboldened by her moment on stage at Coates Opera House, Alice continued to perform no matter who was listening. “But the next morning I was at it again, singing in the streets of Kansas City- in front of saloons, stores, private houses, livery stables, hotels, anywhere,” Alice recalled. “Sometimes they threw pennies at me, not that it mattered.”
After one elusive performance, a congressman called on the Nielsen house and asked Sarah if her young daughter, Alice could “be lent to him and his wife for a week or 10 days.”
Since he was a congressman, Sarah didn’t seem too concerned “lending” her daughter to him. They told her they’d be taking her to Washington, D.C. to a garden party given at the White House by President Cleveland’s wife, Frances. The event was for children only and all of the entertainment was to be children performing.
Alice wrote later, “I was quite willing to go anywhere at any time and with anybody merely for the opportunity to sing to somebody.”
And so she performed as a young girl in front of the President’s wife at the White House.
For a Wider Audience
In 1883, Kansas City’s most beautiful theater, the Gillis Opera House, opened at the southwest corner of 5thand Walnut, and in August 1885, the extremely popular comedic opera “Mikado” opened there.
Alice was never shy, and the 11-year-old girl would wait by the stage door and sing the various parts of “Mikado” as the cast walked in and out of the theater. One day during the run of “Mikado,” Alice learned that the child who sang the part of Nanki Poo died that morning.
Alice flung herself at the manager of the production and begged for a chance to perform. They were convinced. It is said the manager commented, “Sooner or later, the kid is going to make them break down the doors. I’m going to sign her first.”
The comedic opera was traveling town-to-town throughout Missouri, and they needed little Alice to join them. But it would take convincing Alice’s mother, Sarah.
To be clear, Sarah Nielsen had watched as her oldest daughter began singing to audiences outside of churches, and her daughter, Hortense, had already established herself as an actress. She couldn’t sing like Alice- but Hortense had talents that were already noticed, too.
The manager was able to convince Sarah to let Alice come along so long as she was able to travel with them. Alice earned $40 per week those seven weeks on the road at a time when her mother was making $9 a week working for the department store.
Alice was in her element. She felt as if she’d finally made it and this was the beginning of an incredible singing career – but her mother had other ideas.
Alice’s older sister, Annie was the only one to not choose the stage as a career path; in 1883, she entered the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet convent, and, likely to her mother’s pleasure, received her vows in 1885.
Alice certainly wasn’t on that same path, and her mother wasn’t thrilled about it.
Education was paramount to Sarah Nielsen, and she wasn’t about to let her 11-year-old daughter abandon St. Teresa’s Academy. Her mother called on Fr. Thomas Lillis (later Bishop Lillis) to talk to her and let her know her theater days were over.
“I was to return to school, but, to soften the blow, it was agreed that I be trained for the choir at St. Patrick’s, where [my sister] Mary was singing,” Alice explained.
To be sure, little Alice learned so much in the choir loft at St. Patrick’s Church at 806 Cherry. For four years (1885-1889), Alice learned to read music and control her soprano voice. She also met church organist, German-born Benjamin Nentwig (b. 1865), “an unhappy young man” who represented to Alice “the acme of musical power and glory.”
Fr. Lillis married the young couple May 7, 1889. Alice was already about five months pregnant with their son Benjamin, born in September.
The marriage wasn’t a happy one. He wanted her to abandon her stage dreams and perform at church and local concerts while he played the organ for $25 a month and taught music on the side.
Nothing- not even a small child – held Alice back from her dreams. She continued acting and singing despite her husband’s protests, performing at a locally-written opera where she was the starring soprano.
She alleged when she filed for divorce in 1891 that her husband beat her on multiple occasions and that he had a drinking problem.
The divorce was granted, and for a time, her young son lived with her ex-husband and his family while she pursued her dreams miles and miles away from her beloved Kansas City.
Touring the Country and the World
It wouldn’t be fair to state that Alice never looked back once she left Kansas City, because that is far from the truth. But to see her dreams come to fruition, she had to look for larger audiences.
Before the age of motion pictures and when theater performances reigned supreme, there were various light opera companies traveling the country and offering their talent to local theaters. She joined up with the Chicago Church Choir Company and began travel to different cities.
She didn’t make it too far. In Salt Lake City, she learned that Burton Stanley, a well-known soprano who was a “female impersonator,” was in town with a comic opera. She left her company and joined his group.
That led her by 1893 to Oakland, Calif. where she began singing for Charlie Meyers, who owned and managed the Wigwam in San Francisco. There, she made her operatic debut as Yum Yum in “The Mikado” – the same opera that gave Alice her start in Kansas City.
Money was lucrative in these roles; at the Wigwam she was making $90 per week. But Alice wanted to sing to an even bigger audience no matter the price. She took a large pay cut and joined the Tivoli Opera Company in San Francisco where she played 150 roles in two years.
By 1896, Alice Nielsen had reached national fame when she joined up with The Bostonians where she performed in New York City. Composer Victor Herbert wrote roles for her in smash hits such as “The Fortune Teller” and “The Singing Girl.”
In January 1899, Alice returned to Kansas City and was headlining at none other than the Coates Opera House where she’d dreamt of her future career and wished it to life.
By 1900, she was the nation’s biggest box office draw; she traveled about 40,000 miles per year. She was always generous with her money, even giving her sister Hortense $10,000 in stage costumes.
She later wrote, “I think, perhaps, that I have convinced you that to sing was my great ambition. Nothing else mattered. Money? Oh yes; but dearer to me were the praises of the public. I never lost that enthusiasm for song that kept me warm in the sow of the streets of Kansas City.”
She felt she could still go higher, and that meant sacrifice. With her mother and son in tow, Alice moved to London and then to Italy, hoping to move from light opera to the more serious grand opera stage.
She made her debut in Naples, Italy in 1903 and later moved onto London where she performed in Mozart operas. But she never gained the international fame she sought, and she returned to America and back to the roles where she was most well-known.
Slowing Down After 40 Years
Her true spirit and talent were showcased throughout touring circuits in the 1910s and 20s. During the 1910s, she performed with various artists at Carnegie Hall.
In 1912, Alice’s beloved mother, Sarah passed away in Brooklyn, N.Y. when Alice was away in Europe. She’d raised all of her children to have strong musical and theatrical careers.
Alice briefly performed on Broadway again in 1917, and then she performed for a last time in 1925. She lived quietly in her New York City apartment, surrounded by years of mementos, playbills and photographs.
Although none of her acting appears on film, Alice did record 70 tracks of songs between 1898 and 1928; many of these survive today.
She married two more times, but both marriages ended in divorce.
As she grew older, she had little money to show for her fame – but she didn’t seem to care much for that side of celebrity. She always saw herself as that little girl in Kansas City’s streets who sang herself to fame and a life full of experiences she craved.
Letting Alice Sing in Memory
In October 1940, Alice Nielsen headed back to Kansas City for one final trip. She donated 17 of her costumes and various mementoes to the Kansas City Museum who planned to use them in their new costume wing.
With her were two old friends of hers from her days at St. Teresa’s, both of whom had chosen to take their vows- Sister Mary Alexis and Sister Mary Xavier.
She said very little, but sat with tears in her eyes as volunteers pranced around her in her old costumes, giggling while they modeled 40 years of a successful career on the stage.
The Kansas City Museum still has Alice Nielsen’s donated items.
She returned to New York where she peacefully passed away inside her apartment March 8, 1943. She was buried at St. Mary’s Star of the Sea Cemetery in Nassau County, N.Y. where her brother was still the active organist of the parish.
Kansas City lamented her death, the Kansas City Star eloquently writing, “She was a Cinderella, but there was no magic slipper. She found her prince through struggle, sacrifice and enduring faith.”
All Alice Nielsen cared about, as she explained in Collier’s Magazine in 1932, was singing. She was fine with her financial condition so long as people would let her sing. “Alas, it was always to be like that,” she wrote. “As long as there were places to sing, audiences to applaud, critics to approve, I sang for dollars, for pennies, for love. But whatever the reward, I sang.”
