ANALYSIS OF STYLE
What is Style?
In reality the question is two-fold. One may have Style; and one may
have _a_ style. The former is general; the latter individual. The
former can be taught and learned, for it is based on certain
well-defined rules; the latter is personal--in other words, is not
universally applicable. Not infrequently it is a particular
application of those rules which gives the impress of originality. But
correct taste must first be formed by the study of the noblest
creations in the particular art that claims attention. In singing, as
in the sister arts, the laws which govern Style must be apprehended
and understood before Individuality can be given full scope.
Otherwise, what to the executant would appear as original might, to
correct taste and judgment, appear ridiculous and extravagant. A
genius is sometimes eccentric, but eccentricity is not genius. Vocal
students should hear as many good singers as possible, but actually
imitate none. A skilled teacher will always discern and strive to
develop the personality of the pupil, will be on the alert to discover
latent features of originality and character. He will respect and
encourage individuality, rather than insist upon the servile imitation
of some model--even though that model be himself. As the distinguished
artist Victor Maurel has justly observed: "Of all the bad forms of
teaching singing, that by imitation is the worst" (_Un Problème
d'Art_).
In singing, as in painting, a copy has never the value of the
original. Moreover, slavish imitation in any art has a deleterious
influence. But to respect irreproachable examples and fitly observe
sound rules, whose very survival often justifies their existence and
testifies to their value, is always of benefit to the artist. To
imitate is to renounce one's individual expression of an ideal and
present that of another. But to observe established and accepted laws,
laws founded on Truth and consecrated by Time, is not to imitate, when
those laws are applied in an original and individual manner that is in
harmony with the personality of the interpreter. "_L'art est un coin
de Nature vu à travers un tempérament._" In literature, each writer
has his own special style which may easily be recognized; but all
follow the same grammatical rules. A correct style in singing consists
in the careful observance of the principles of Technique; a perfect
Diction; the appropriate Colouring of each sentiment expressed;
attention to the musical and poetic Accents; judicious and effective
Phrasing (whether musical or verbal), so that the meaning of both
composer and poet may be placed in the clearest light.
* * * * *
Let us analyze Style in its three principal aspects: Colour, Accent,
and Phrasing.
COLOUR
Of all the elements of Style in singing, the most potent and
effective--the one, indeed, that is essential for the success of the
lyric artist--is the ability to vary the vocal timbre; that is, to
sing with Colour. This desideratum of varied tone-colour is sought
even by instrumentalists. Nay, the instrument itself is sometimes
constructed with this object in view. Witness the invention of the
"soft" pedal, which is intended not solely to reduce the intensity of
tone in the pianoforte--that may be accomplished by a modification of
force in striking the note--but to give the tones a darker, more
sombre quality, or colour. To vary the tone-colour, a violinist or
'cellist draws the bow across the strings close to, or distant from,
the bridge, in accordance with his desire for a reed-like or
flute-like quality of tone. Anyone who has listened to the performance
of the slow movement in Paganini's Concerto in _D_, by an Ysaye or a
Mischa Elman, will have remarked how the skilful use of varied tone
colour and other devices imparts a wonderful charm to music
intrinsically of but mediocre value.
A singer may have a good quality of voice; but that is normal. If he
can vary it only in degrees of loudness (Intensity) and not in
differences of timbre (Colour) he cannot be ranked as an artist. No
matter how great the natural beauty and sonority of his voice, his
performance will always be monotonous, if he has only one tint on his
vocal palette. In speech--from which the effect is borrowed--utterances
of grave and serious meaning, and those of gayer import, are not made
with the same colour of voice. A brighter quality (_voix claire_) is
used instinctively for an ejaculation uttered by one to whom pleasant
or joyful news has been communicated. On the contrary, should it be
the cause of sorrow or grief for the listener, he will use--should he
have occasion to reply--a darker quality of voice (_voix sombre_).
Such phenomena are physiological. The vocal organs are the most
sensitive of any in the human economy: they betray at once the mental
condition of the individual. Joy is a great tonic, and acts on the
vocal cords and mucous membrane as does an astringent; a brilliant and
clear quality of voice is the result. Grief or Fear, on the other
hand, being depressing emotions, lower the vitality, and the
debilitating influence communicates to the voice a dull and sombre
character.
On this question of colour in the voice, the masterly writer and
critic Legouvé says: "Certain particular gifts are necessary if the
speech is to possess colour. The first of these is Metal in the voice.
He who has it not will never shine as a colourist. The metal may be
gold, silver or brass; each has its individual characteristic. A
golden voice is the most brilliant; a silvery voice has the most
charm; a brassy voice the most power. But one of the three
characteristics is essential. A voice without metallic ring is like
teeth without enamel; they may be sound and healthy, but they are not
brilliant.... In speech there are several colours--a bright, ringing
quality; one soft and veiled. The bright, strident hues of purple and
gold in a picture may produce a masterpiece of gorgeous colouring; so,
in a different manner, may the harmonious juxtaposition of greys,
lilacs and browns on a canvas by Veronese, Rubens, or Delacroix.
"Last of all is the velvety voice. This is worthless if not allied
with one of the three others. In order that a velvety voice may
possess value it must be reinforced (_doublée_) with 'metal.' A
velvety voice is merely one of cotton."[1]
[Footnote 1: These admirably expressed views illustrate and exemplify
the principles I laid down in a _conférence_ (Paris, 1902) on
Voice-Production (_Pose de la Voix_), wherein I demonstrated the
possibility of acquiring, by the aid of the resonating cavities, a
greater sonority, more in conformity with the demands and necessities
of present-day music.]
It may be of interest to notice that the quality which in France is
designated "timbre," is called by the Italians "_metallo di voce_,"
or, "metal of the voice." Those who heard Madame Sarah Bernhardt
fifteen or twenty years ago will readily understand why her countless
friends and admirers always spoke of her matchless organ as "_la voix
d'or_."
The late Sims Reeves, the famous tenor, was a perfect master of all
varieties and shades of vocal colour, and displayed his mastery with
certainty and unfailing effect in the different fields of Oratorio and
Opera. In the recitative "Deeper and deeper still," with its
subsequent aria "Waft her, angels, through the skies" [Handel], he
ranged through the entire gamut of tone-colour. As Edgardo in
Donizetti's _Lucia di Lammermoor_, he launched the "Maladetta" phrase
of the curse with a voice that was almost "white" with frenzied rage;
while the pathetic sombre quality he employed in the "_Fra poco a me
ricovero_" fitly accorded with the despairing mood and gloomy
surroundings of the hapless Edgardo.
Some singers control but two colours or timbres--the very clear (open)
and the very sombre (closed), which they exaggerate. In reality,
however, the gradations between them can be made infinite by the
artist who is in possession of the secret--especially if he has the
ability to combine Colour with Intensity.
An illustration of this is found in the example cited in the opening
paragraph of the present work:--"For now is Christ risen." Not only
did Mme. Tietjens make a gradual _crescendo_ from the first note to
the climax, but the tonal colours were also subtly graduated from a
comparatively sombre quality to one of the utmost clearness and
brilliance.
[Music: As sung by Mme. Tietjens
For now is Christ risen, for now is Christ risen from the dead.]
As contrasting examples in which the two principal colours may be
employed effectively, I may cite the Bacchic air, "_Ô vin, dissipe la
tristesse_," and the pensive monologue, "_Être, ou ne pas être_," both
from the opera _Hamlet_, by Ambroise Thomas. The forced, unnatural
quality of the first calls for the use of a clear, open, brilliant
timbre.
[Music:
Ô vin, dissipe la tristesse
Qui pèse sur mon coeur!
A moi les rêves de l'ivresse,
Et le rire moqueur!]
But for the second, "To be, or not to be":
[Music:
Être, ou ne pas être! ô mystère!
Mourir! dormir, dormir!]
a sombre, closed timbre is necessary. The opening recitative of
Vanderdecken in _Der fliegende Holländer_ by Wagner would be absurd,
and utterly out of harmony with the character and his surroundings, if
sung in the open timbre. Perhaps I ought to explain that "open" (_voix
claire_, Fr.), and "closed" (_voix sombre_, Fr.), are technical terms,
of which the equivalents are accepted in all countries where the art
of singing is cultivated; terms that apply to _quality_ of tone, not
to the _physical_ process by which these effects are produced. Such a
mistake is not infrequently made by vocal physiologists who are not
practical musicians or singing-teachers. Nor must the term "clear
timbre" be understood to mean the "white voice" ("_voix blanche_," or
"_voce bianca_"); this, like the guttural timbre, being only
occasionally employed for the expression of some violent passion, such
as hate.
Like the admirable paintings of Eugène Carrière, for instance his
masterly portrait of Paul Verlaine, a song, sometimes an entire rôle,
may be worked out in monochrome; though the gradations of tint are
numerous, they are consistently kept within their preconceived
colour-scheme. Some few exceptional singers, like Jean-Baptiste Faure
or Maurice Renaud, have this gift of many shades of the one colour in
their singing of certain rôles. The colour is determined by the
psychological character of the personage portrayed; a gay, reckless
Don Giovanni calls for a brighter colouring throughout than that
necessitated by the music allotted to a gloomy Vanderdecken or an
embittered and vengeful Rigoletto. One may, therefore, formulate the
following rule: The general character of the composition will decide
the tonal colour appropriate for its general interpretation; the
colouring necessary for its component phrases will be determined by
the particular sentiment embodied in them. Emotions like sorrow, fear,
despair, will find fitting expression in the sombre quality of voice,
graduated in accordance with the intensity of the emotion. The
opposite sentiments of joy, love, courage, hope, are fittingly
interpreted by gradations of the clear and brilliant timbre. The dark
or sombre voice will be used in varying shades for the recitative from
_Samson_ (Handel), "Oh, loss of sight:"
[Music: Oh, loss of sight, of thee I most complain!]
while the clearest and most brilliant timbre possible to be obtained
is plainly indicated for the same composer's "Sound an alarm!" from
_Judas Maccabæus_.
[Music: Sound an alarm, your silver trumpets sound!]
It was a rule formulated by the old Italian school of singing, when
_l'arte del bel canto_ in its true sense did really exist, that no
phrase--musical or verbal--should be repeated with the same nuances.
Very many instances might be given of the happy effect obtained by
observing this rule. One will suffice. It is taken from the Lamento of
Queen Catherine (of Aragon), who, slighted by Henry VIII. for Anne
Boleyn, sighs for her native Spain.
[Music: Lamento
Henri VIII: Act IV
Saint-Saëns
Mon Espagne chérie! Mon Espagne chérie!]
Sudden contrasts of colour are of great dramatic effect. A good
illustration is found in the air "_Divinités du Styx_," from Gluck's
_Alceste_. This contrast is still further heightened by a sudden
change of both Intensity and Tempo.
[Music:
Divinités du Styx!
Divinités du Styx!
Ministres de la mort!]
This last phrase, "_Ministres de la mort!_" should be sung in a very
sombre voice of almost guttural character.
It is, indeed, in the recitatives and declamatory passages of Gluck,
Handel, Sacchini, that lyric artists will find unsurpassable material
for study. Requiring, as such works do for their perfect
interpretation, all the resources of Colour, Accent, and Phrasing,
such study is the best possible preparation for the fitting musical
presentment of the lyric drama in some of its later phases.
Colour, then, is the basic element of Style in singing. It is
reinforced by Accent, which, as the name implies, is the accentuation
of details that require to be brought into prominence. This subject,
therefore, next claims attention.
* * * * *
ACCENT
In singing, two kinds of accent are recognized, the Musical accent,
and the Poetic, or Verbal, accent. The first appertains to the domain
of sound; the second, to the domain of significance. The first, for
æsthetic reasons, throws into relief certain tones of a musical
phrase; the second brings into prominence the sentiment underlying the
poem or text. Note, also, that in spoken declamation, accent applies
to a syllable only; in singing, the verbal accent affects an entire
word.
In its relation to Style, the Musical accent must be carefully
distinguished from the Metrical accent which is determined by Time, or
Measure, as well as from the Verbal accent whereby the import of a
word is rendered clear to the listener. Here is an example of Musical
accent, from Act III of Verdi's _Ballo in Maschera_:
[Music: Saper vorreste di che si veste quando l'è cosa ch'ei vuol
nascosa.]
The accents (marked thus [accent symbol]) give to the musical phrase a
piquancy that is admirably in keeping with the gay and careless
character of the page, Oscar, who sings it. In fact, as regards Style,
Musical accent is particularly valuable in song for the purpose of
setting forth the true character of the music. Hence, it may be
regarded as a means of characterization.
This use of accent for characterization is also quite distinct from
its use with "accidentals," or tones foreign to the prevailing
tonality. In the former case, sentiment dictates its employment; in
the second, the accent guarantees, as it were, the accuracy of the
singer's intonation. By the faint stress laid on the foreign tone,
the listener is assured that the executant is not deviating from the
true pitch. In the following examples, the tones marked [accent
symbol] are "accidentals," and for that reason should receive a faint
stress. The first example is from _La Forza del Destino_.
[Music: Verdi
Madre, Madre, pietosa Vergine, perdona al mio peccato, m'aita
quell'ingrato]
[Music: "Je dis que rien"
Carmen: Act III
Bizet
Vous me protégerez, Seigneur!]
These different uses of accent are well illustrated in the following
example.
[Music: "Come unto Him"
Messiah
Handel
Take His yoke upon you, and learn of Him.]
The tone allotted to the second syllable of the word "upon" is
accentuated to affirm the accuracy of the singer's intonation; the
slight emphasis of the word "Him" brings into relief the meaning of
the text. This latter, then, is an illustration of Verbal, or
"Poetic" accent which, I repeat, throws into relief, without
consideration of its musical value or position, some word of special
significance in the verbal phrase. To render the poetic meaning of the
text clear to the listener, a correct use of verbal accent is
imperative. Its importance and effect, particularly in recitative and
declamatory singing, are analogous to the importance and effect of
emphasis in spoken language. The example is from _Samson_ (Handel):
[Music: O loss of _sight_, of _thee_ I _most_ complain.]
Here I may point out that in _cantabile_ phrases the stream of sound,
notwithstanding its division into syllables by the organs of
articulation--lips, tongue, etc.--should pour forth smoothly and
uninterruptedly. The full value of each tone must be allotted to the
vowel; the consonants which precede or end the syllables are
pronounced quickly and distinctly. In declamatory singing, on the
contrary, the consonants should be articulated with greater
deliberation and intensity.
[Music: Handel (Messiah)
I _know_ that my Redeemer liveth.]
Here an emphatic accent on the consonant "n" irresistibly suggests the
idea of knowledge; that is, of absolute certainty, not of mere
belief.
Very frequently the metrical accent does not coincide with the
syllabic accent: the musical accent will fall on an unaccented
syllable, or vice versa. Particularly is this the case when the
composer is not perfectly familiar with the rules that govern the
prosody of the language to which he is setting music. In the operas of
Meyerbeer many passages occur in which it is necessary to readjust the
syllables to the notes on account of their misplaced accent. Here is
an illustration from Hoël's Grand Air in _Le Pardon de Ploërmel_
(Meyerbeer), Act II. (Note that the tonic accent in French falls
_always_ on the last pronounced syllable.)
[Music: (as printed)
Et ranimez, ra_ni_mez ma foi.]
The error is easily remedied:
[Music: (should be sung)
Et ranimez, rani_mez_ ma foi.]
In the contralto aria "He shall feed His flock," in Handel's
_Messiah_, the unaccented word "shall" falls on the most strongly
accented note of the bar. If performed thus, it would give a most
aggressive character to the passage, implying that some one had
previously denied the assertion. This would be entirely at variance
with the consolatory and peaceful message that is contained in the
text and shadowed forth in the music.
[Music: (as printed)
He shall feed his flock like a shepherd.
(should be sung)
He shall feed his flock like a shepherd.]
Instances of faulty syllabic accent abound in Handel's works, both his
English oratorios and his Italian operas. Many examples could be
quoted. Here is a phrase from the beautiful air for mezzo-soprano sung
by Ruggiero in the opera of _Alcina_.
[Music: (as printed)
Verdi prati.
(should be sung)
Verdi prati.]
In Mendelssohn's _Elijah_, the following phrase is nearly always sung
as written, unless the singer is familiar with the best traditions:
[Music: Give me _thy_ son!]
It may be that the artists who slavishly follow the published text
fear being accused of altering the composer's music, or are ignorant
of the fact that there exists a better version, which is this:
[Music: Give _me_ thy son!]
It will be seen that the music is not changed in the least; the
musical and verbal accents have been merely readjusted and made to
coincide.
In order to avoid the disagreeable effect of singing one half-bar
_andante_ to the syllable "_si_" (pronounced like "zee" in English),
the following phrase of Marguerite de Valois in _Les Huguenots_
(Meyerbeer), Act II, is changed thus:
[Music: (as printed)
en aucun temps n'eût choisi mieux.
(should be sung)
en aucun temps n'eût choisi mieux.]
* * * * *
INTENSITY
In musical terminology every gradation of volume in sound, from the
faintest to the loudest, enters into the category of Intensity. One of
the accepted rules of the _arte del bel canto_ was, that every
sustained tone should be coloured by some graduation of intensity.
Thus the ability to augment and diminish the volume of tone was so
highly esteemed--indeed, so essential--that singers spent much time in
acquiring the _messa di voce_, that is, the steadily graduated
emission of tone from the softest degree to the loudest and again to
the softest: _p_ [crescendo symbol] _f_ [decrescendo symbol] _p_. This
exercise invariably formed a part of each day's study, and was
practised on several vowels throughout the scale, except the extreme
tones, save in rare instances. It was, in fact, indispensable that the
singer should be able to colour every tone in three forms of graduated
intensity: Soft to loud _p_ [crescendo symbol] _f_; loud to soft _f_
[decrescendo symbol] _p_; and soft to loud and soft again _p_
[crescendo symbol] _f_ [decrescendo symbol] _p_.
This command of intensity, therefore, is invaluable. But it is even
more effective when the artist has the power to combine the various
gradations of Intensity with different shades of Colour; in other
words, when he can sing a tone _crescendo_ and _diminuendo_ in the
clear and sombre timbres.
The passage, already cited, from Alceste's great air in Gluck's opera
_Alceste_, furnishes an admirable illustration of the dramatic emotion
created by a sudden contrast of Intensity as well as Colour. In the
invocation "Ye ministers that dwell in night!" the clear timbre is
used with gradually increasing volume until at the phrase (sung
_adagio_) "Ministers of death!" the timbre changes abruptly to a
sombre quality with sinister effect, which effect is augmented by
being sung _pp_.
[Music: Gluck (Alceste: Act I)
Divinités du Styx!
Divinités du Styx!
Ministres de la mort!]
A still more striking example of the impressive effect produced by
sudden contrasts of intensity is offered in the magnificent air "Total
Eclipse," from _Samson_ (Handel). In it, a judicious use of
tone-colour, accent, and variations of tempo, all combine to elucidate
in the highest possible degree the idea of both composer and poet:
[Music: Sun, moon and stars, sun, moon and stars are _dark_ to me.]
The words "Sun, moon and stars" should be given strongly accentuated,
and the tempo gradually accelerated. The repetition of the phrase
should be sung with still greater intensity; then, at the passage "are
dark to me," the colour of the voice changes to one of very sombre
quality, and the original tempo is resumed. The first consonant in the
word "dark" should receive a slight stress.
The _crescendo_ has always been a favourite device of composers,
particularly of those who write for the lyric theatre. It was an
effect held in high esteem by Rossini, who introduced it constantly in
his operas--witness his overtures and ensembles. All are familiar with
the wonderful _crescendo_ which precedes the appearance of the Knight
of the Swan, in _Lohengrin_, where the sonorities are augmented by
gradual additions of voices and instruments until the culminating
point is reached. An instance more poignant still is found in the
great "Liebestod" in _Tristan und Isolde_.
Although Hérold, the French composer, observed that in working up to a
climax one should begin a long way off, a singer must be careful not
to reach his maximum of vocal sonority before the musical climax is
attained. The tenor Duprez created a sensation that is historic, in
the long _crescendo_ passage in the fourth act of _Guillaume Tell_, by
gradually increasing the volume of sound, as the phrase developed in
power and grandeur, until the end, which he delivered with all the
wealth of his exceptionally resonant voice.
Before closing this chapter on Intensity, I should advise singers
whose voices possess great natural volume or power not to abuse this
valuable quality by employing it too frequently. The ear of a listener
tires sooner of extreme sonority than of any other effect. Talma, the
great actor, wrought many reforms on the French dramatic stage, not
only in costume--prior to his time Greek or Roman dress only was worn
in tragedy--but also in the manner of delivering tragic verse. Against
the custom, then prevalent, of always hurling forth long tirades at
full voice, he inveighed in these terms: "Of all monotonous things,
_uproar_ is the most intolerable" (_de toutes les monotonies, celle de
la force est la plus insupportable_). An artistic singer will use his
most powerful tones, as a painter employs his most vivid colours,
sparingly.
* * * * *
PHRASING
Phrasing is simply musical punctuation. In singing, it may be
separated, like accent, into two divisions: Musical and Poetic, or
Verbal, phrasing. If the following passage were performed by an
instrument, it would not require any particular grouping or phrasing:
[Music]
But when sung, it would fail in effect if not performed with a very
slight pause after the word "nobis," thus:
[Music: Ave Maria
Luzzi
Ora pro nobis, Maria.]
As another illustration of the excellent effect of correct phrasing
may be cited the song _Psyché_, by Paladilhe. Its effect is heightened
if the musical phrasing be judiciously combined with a change in
Colour and Intensity:
[Music: Quand il les flatte, j'en murmure!]
(Should be sung):
[Music: Quand il les flatte, j'en murmure!]
It is the clashing of the Musical and Verbal phrasings that often
makes translations of lyric works unsatisfactory. The two phrases are
independent, not welded together. So far from being "Music wedded to
immortal Verse," these instances resemble those _ménages_ wherein each
unit leads a separate existence. When this is the case, the singer
must decide as to whether the musical phrase, or the poetic phrase,
demands the greater prominence.
The following Phrasing and Colouring would be good and effective if
the passage were played on an instrument:
[Music]
But if sung thus, as it sometimes is by careless artists who pay
little attention to the verbal significance of what they are singing,
it would sound absurd, because the poetic phrasing is entirely
ignored. The correct way of performing the passage (from the aria "Voi
che sapete," in Act II of Mozart's _Nozze di Figaro_) is the
following:
[Music: Donne, vedete, s'io l'ho nel cor.]
In the next extract (from Act IV in _Un Ballo in Maschera_, by Verdi),
it will be noticed how oblivious the composer was of the claims of
verbal phrasing. The whole _scena_ is admirably written for the
voice, and contains many graceful passages of great melodic charm. But
although the music may claim to represent the character of the
situation as a whole, it is disfigured by the complete disregard of
the sense of certain groups of words:
[Music: Come se fosse l'ultima ora del nostro amor, come se fosse
l'ultima, l'ultima ora, ora del nostro amor, del nostro amor? Oh, qual
presagio m'assale, come se fosse l'ultima ora del nostro amor, se
fosse l'ultima del nostro amor]
The words "_come se fosse l'ultima ora del nostro amor_," constitute
one phrase. It would be extremely difficult, impossible even, for
many, to sing the passage in one breath. But the first musical phrase
ends after the word "_ultima_;" to separate it from the next word,
"_ora_" (second and third bars), thus: "last--hour," is impracticable.
It would be out of the question to destroy the musical phrase by
breathing after the word "_ora_," in the third bar. If the text is
phrased when spoken as it is when sung, the incongruity is at once
apparent. The published score gives a pause [fermata symbol] after the
word "_ora_:" "_ultima ora_ [fermata symbol] _del nostro amor_." This
phrasing is good and effective, especially if the artist changes at
once to the sombre quality after the pause, and finishes the phrase
_piano_ and _rallentando_. One very often hears it, however, given
with a pause for breathing after the high _a_; the unfortunate singer
having prolonged the tone until, in order to continue, he is compelled
to take in more air. The result is the absurd phrasing given below:
[Music: l'ultima ora del nostro amor]
In the final cadenza, the composer has cut out the word "ora"
altogether. The whole air is of interest to the musical student, as it
shows clearly the little value attached by Verdi, at that period of
his career, to the exigencies of the verbal or poetic phrase. This
neglect of the verbal punctuation is in marked contrast to the care he
bestowed on it in his later works, witness _Aida_, _Otello_, and
particularly _Falstaff_.
Here I may say that it is sometimes necessary to alter the words on
account of the impossibility of performing certain passages as
written. In the earlier published scores of _Samson et Dalila_
(Saint-Saëns), the following passage in Act II, "Mon coeur s'ouvre à
ta voix," as the composer wrote it, occurs as one phrase:
[Music: Ah! réponds à ma tendresse!]
This being impracticable of execution in one phrase, and there being
no opportunity of retaking breath until the close of the passage, it
was altered in the later editions, and now stands thus:
[Music: Ah! réponds, réponds à ma tendresse!]
This device of repetition, applied either to a word or to part of a
phrase, is perfectly justifiable in cases where the artist, for
physical reasons, is unable to sing the phrase in one breath. I give
an excerpt from Weber's _Der Freischütz_ (Grand Air, Act II):
[Music: Oh lovely night!]
This may be sung:
[Music: Oh lovely, lovely night!]
The concluding bars of the waltz-song in Act I of Gounod's _Roméo et
Juliette_, are often phrased as indicated in the brackets, in order to
give the singer a chance to take breath, which is done after the _c_
natural:
[Music: Ah! (comme un trésor.) comme un trésor.]
As discrepancies between the musical and verbal phrases, such as those
I have instanced, abound in certain of the old operas which still keep
the stage and form a part of the permanent répertoire of every lyric
theatre, the artists singing them are compelled to choose between
sacrificing the words or the music. The former alternative is
generally preferable, the musical phrase in many such cases being of
the greater relative importance. Another way is, to meet the
difficulty boldly by supplying another text which mates itself more
happily with the musical phrase. Personally, I adopt the latter
alternative without hesitation, when preparing artists to sing these
works.
* * * * *
Some minor effects utilized in Style in singing may be briefly alluded
to: _Portamento_; variations of _Tempo_.
PORTAMENTO
This is effected by the voice gliding from one tone to another, and is
equally available on stringed instruments, the violin or 'cello, the
mandoline or zither. It is a grace of style much abused by inartistic
singers. Being an ornament, good taste dictates that it be used
sparingly. A frequent sliding from one tone to another is a grave
fault, and most disagreeable to a cultivated ear. To sing _legato_ is
one thing; to sing _strisciato_ is another. Hence, its use on two
consecutive occasions is rarely admissible. But without a sober and
discreet use of the _portamento_, the style of the singer appears
stiff, angular--lacking, as it were, in graceful curves.
It must always be performed by carrying the tone and syllable to the
next tone; never by anticipating the latter:
[Music: Mozart (Nozze di Figaro)
Do Fa Deh vieni, non tardar,]
But it sometimes happens that, while desiring this grace, the composer
does not indicate his wish quite correctly. Here is an instance by F.
Thomé:
[Music: Et nous dansions un boléro.]
Were it performed as printed, it would be very bad style, as it
violates the rule that the succeeding syllable shall not be
anticipated. Undoubtedly, what the author wished is the following:
[Music: Et nous dansions]
Sometimes the composer himself indicates clearly his intention that
this effect should be used, as in the following examples:
[Music: Reyer (La Statue)
Pour s'évanouir, au réveil.]
[Music: Celeste Aida
(Aida: Act I)
Verdi
Del mio pensiero tu sei regina, tu di mia vita sei lo splendor.]
[Music: Song "Heure du Soir" for Tenor
Léo Delibes
Partout s'élève un chant bien doux, un chant bien doux,
Sous la brise toute embaumée.]
[Music: From "La Bohème," Act I
Puccini
Mi chiamano Mimi, ma il mio nome è Lucia.]
(Notice the phrases marked _a_ and _b_.)
The words and indications for the use of the _portamento_ in each of
these last four examples are by the respective composers, and as
printed in the published editions.
A _portamento_ should never be sung so slowly as to convey the idea of
a badly executed chromatic scale; and, as a rule, it is best not to
use one between any lesser interval than a third, unless for some
particular effect, or at the close of a slow movement, as in the aria
"He was despisèd," in _The Messiah_:
[Music: and acquainted with grief.]
It is also effective in connecting syllables in phrases of a smooth,
lyric character:
[Music: Nozze di Figaro: Act II
Mozart
(as printed)
in braccio al idol mio.
(should be sung)
in braccio al idol mio.]
The _portamento_ being an embellishment that pertains to the
_cantabile_, it is very little used in declamatory singing.
But frequently in the Recitatives of classic works occur phrases of
declamatory recitative, interspersed with passages that are purely
lyric in structure. To each of these divisions must be given its
appropriate style. For instance, after the opening phrases of
Obadiah's exhortation, "Ye people, rend your hearts," in _Elijah_, up
to the end of the phrase "Return to God," all is purely lyric
declamation. But at the words, "For He is slow to anger, and
merciful," this should cease, and the succeeding phrases be given with
all the graces that are permissible in _cantabile_ singing; not in the
hard, dry manner affected by some of the modern tenors in oratorio.
[Music: I therefore say to ye, Forsake your idols, return to God; for
He is slow to anger, and merciful.]
* * * * *
VARIATIONS OF TEMPO
These are of value in bringing out the musical and poetic significance
of certain compositions; notably the operas of Bellini, Donizetti, and
the earlier works of Verdi. But I would caution singers to exercise
discretion in this much-abused effect. Variations of Tempo, the
_ritardando_, _accelerando_, and _tempo rubato_, are all legitimate
aids demanded by Expression. But unless their use is determined by
sound judgment and correct musicianly taste, the effect speedily
becomes vulgar and monotonous. Knowledge, and a taste formed in good
schools, must be the guide of the vocalist in the use of variations of
tempo.
I have said that the operas of Bellini, Donizetti and Verdi abound in
instances requiring the hastening or slackening of the tempo. But the
device is also highly esteemed by the ultra-modern Italian school, as
may be seen in studying the scores of Puccini, Mascagni and
Leoncavallo.
Here is an illustration of its effective use in the air "Connais-tu le
pays?" from _Mignon_ (Act II), by Ambroise Thomas. Madame Christine
Nilsson (Countess Casa Miranda), who "passed" the rôle with the
composer, always sang the phrase thus, although these indications do
not appear in the published version:
[Music: Hélas! que ne puis-je te suivre, vers ce rivage heureux, d'où
le sort m'exila!]
Again, in the fine song _Der Asra_, by Rubinstein, the musical, as
well as the dramatic, effect of the poem is heightened by the use of
the _accelerando_, which interprets with musical vividness the
impetuous avowal by the slave of his passion for the princess, after
his calm answer to her questions as to his name and birthplace.
"_Ich heisse Mahomet, ich bin aus Yemen, und mein Stamm sind jene
Asra, welche sterben, wenn sie lieben._" (HEINE.)
[Music: und mein Stamm sind jene Asra, welche sterben, wenn sie
lieben.]