RÉPERTOIRE
Although répertoire forms no integral part of Style, being rather the
medium for its practical application, a few words on this important
subject may not be out of place. The répertoire necessary for a singer
may be divided into two sections, Opera and Concert. The latter
includes Oratorio and Cantata.
In spoken Drama, a performer may begin his career by playing the
youthful lovers, and end it by impersonating the heavy fathers. He may
first sigh as Romeo, and later storm as Capulet. Not so in Opera, or
lyric Drama, where the line of work to be followed is determined at
the outset by the type of voice possessed by the aspirant, and which
line (or _emploi_, as it is termed) he follows of necessity to the end
of his professional career.
I know there are some few instances of artists who, later, have
successfully adopted rôles demanding another range than the one needed
for their earlier efforts. But it is an open question whether the
performer's instrument really changed. It must either have been
wrongly classified at one of the two periods, or the vocal
keyboard--so to speak--transposed a little higher or lower. The
character of the instrument remains the same; a viola strung as a
violin would still retain its viola quality of tone.
The case is different where a soprano who may have begun by singing
the florid rôles of opera, has so gained in volume of voice and
breadth of style as to warrant her devoting these acquisitions to
characters requiring more dramatic force than was needed, or could be
utilized, in coloratura rôles. Mlle. Emma Calvé, Mesdames Lilli
Lehmann and Nordica, are notable examples of this. Each of these
distinguished artists began her career by singing what are known as
"Princess" rôles, before successfully portraying Carmen or the
Brünnhildes. As a rule, it is by singing many different rôles that the
lyric artist gains the skill and sureness that may ultimately render
him famous in a few. Mlle. Grandjean, now principal first dramatic
soprano at the Paris Opéra, began her career there--after a few
appearances at the Opéra-Comique--by singing the very small part of
the nurse Magdalene in Wagner's _Die Meistersinger_. Perseverance, if
allied to ability, can accomplish much.
When the type of voice and the natural temperament of the singer do
not accord--as sometimes happens--he would be unwise not to adhere to
the work for which his vocal means, not his preference, are best
adapted. To follow the contrary path, and essay rôles requiring for
their fitting expression more dramatic fire and intensity than his
vocal instrument can supply, would be to shorten his career, owing to
the certain deterioration and possible extinction of the voice. There
are sufficient voiceless examples to prove, were proof needed, the
truth of this assertion; and their atonic condition is due to the
cause mentioned.
The first requisite for the aspirant who wishes to follow the operatic
career is undoubtedly a voice possessed of the three essential factors
of Quality, Power and Compass; what is termed in Italy a "_voce di
teatro_," or voice for the theatre.
But an opera-singer is actor as well as singer, and in this direction
more--much more--is now demanded of him than formerly. But to those
possessed of what is known as the Instinct of the Theatre, or Scenic
Instinct, the gestures and attitudes of the operatic stage, being
largely conventional, are soon acquired. Scenic accomplishments are
undoubtedly necessary to the stage-singer, but his mimetic studies
should not preclude him from making himself a thorough master of the
vocal side of his art. There is a difference between an actor who
sings, and a singer who acts.
Besides the mimetic faculty, certain physical gifts are also needed by
the opera-singer, according to the requirements of the line of rôles
to which he is inevitably assigned by the nature and type of his
particular voice. It is true that stage artifice has now reached great
perfection; but it has its limits, and cannot accomplish miracles.
It requires much imagination and great generosity on the part of the
public to accept a tenor, whose waist-girth would not unfit him for
the part of Sir John Falstaff, as a youthful and romantic Romeo, or a
half-starved and emaciated Rodolphe. Illusion is rudely shaken, if not
absolutely dispelled, in witnessing a soprano, whose age and
_embonpoint_ are fully in evidence, impersonate a girlish Gilda or a
consumptive Traviata. Such discrepancies may be overlooked by the
public in the case of old established favourites, but it would be
unfortunate for the débutant to commence with these drawbacks. And yet
there have been a few famous artists whose extraordinary vocal talent
atoned for other very pronounced defects. Such an one was the
Pisaroni, a celebrated contralto, said to have been so ill-favoured
that she always forwarded her likeness to any opera director to whom
she was personally unknown, who offered her an engagement. But so
exceptional were her voice and talent, that certain of her
contemporary artists have declared that by the time Pisaroni had
reached the end of her first phrase, the public was already conquered.
As personal preference is very often mistaken for aptitude or natural
fitness, a lyric artist is not always the best judge as to which of
the rôles in his répertoire are really fitted to display his abilities
to the best advantage. The singer combines in himself both instrument
and performer; therefore he rarely, if ever, hears himself quite as
does another person. Until possessed of the ripened judgment gained by
experience, he would do well to be guided in this matter by one who,
to the knowledge required, adds taste and discernment. That a liking
or preference is sometimes mistaken for the aptitude and gifts
necessary for the successful carrying out of certain work, is too well
known to be even questioned. It is the constantly recurring case of
the low comedian who wishes to play Hamlet. A young tenor whose great
vocal and physical advantages made him an ideal Duke in _Rigoletto_, a
fascinating Almaviva in _Il Barbiere_, found but little enjoyment in
life because his director refused to allow him to try Otello and
Tannhäuser, for which he was vocally unfitted. Never show the public
what you cannot do, is the best advice that can be given in such
cases. Even the finest and most experienced singers are occasionally
liable to make mistakes in the choice of rôles. Madame Patti once sang
Carmen, and Madame Melba essayed Brünnhilde; but I am not aware that
either of these famous cantatrices repeated the experiment.
* * * * *
For those who intend to follow a concert-singer's career, there is a
vast literature of vocal music specially written for this purpose,
from which to select. There are few modern operatic excerpts which do
not suffer somewhat by being transplanted from the stage to the
concert-platform. In no case is this more clearly proved than in the
selections so frequently given from Wagner's music-dramas. Of course,
I am speaking more particularly of those extracts which require the
services of a vocalist. Such selections given in the concert-room are
in distinct violation of the composer's own wishes, frequently
expressed. Besides lacking the necessary adjuncts of gesture, costume
and scenery, the musical conditions of the concert-room are very
unfavourable to the unfortunate singer. He has to struggle to make
himself heard above the sonorities of a powerful orchestra generally
numbering over a hundred musicians, and placed directly around and
behind him, instead of on a lower level, as in the case of a lyric
theatre. Besides which, Wagner's works can now be heard in all large
cities under the conditions necessary for their proper presentment,
and as intended by their author-composer. Therefore, there is no
longer the same reason as may have existed years ago, for the
performance of extracts at purely symphonic concerts.
In cases where the singer has to select numbers for a symphonic
concert and to be accompanied by an orchestra, there is a mine of
wealth, not yet exhausted, in the operas of the older classic
composers. These, being less heavily orchestrated than the ultra
modern works written for the theatre, do not suffer in the same degree
from the different disposition of the orchestral instruments.
There are also a few vocal numbers with orchestral accompaniments
written in the form of a "scena," such as the "Ah, perfido" of
Beethoven, and the "Infelice" of Mendelssohn, which might possibly
form an agreeable change to the frequenters of symphonic concerts,
jaded a little, perhaps, with the oft-repeated "Dich theure Halle" and
"Prayer" from _Tannhäuser_.
In order to render them more in keeping with the conditions of
symphonic concerts, orchestral accompaniments, to many songs by the
classic composers, have been made by excellent musicians from the
original piano-part. The ethical question involved in the presentation
of such works in a form other than that written by the composer, need
not be considered here. Each artist must decide the matter for
himself.
So far as songs with accompaniments for the piano are concerned, there
is a mine practically inexhaustible and from which new treasures are
constantly brought to light. For Recital purposes, the choice and
sequence of a programme is second in importance only to its execution.
And although suppleness and adaptability are valuable, even necessary,
qualities, in a concert-singer, he will sometimes find that certain
songs--admirable in themselves--are unsuited to him, for reasons which
it is not always possible to define. In such cases it is not a matter
of compass, or _tessitura_, of voice, or even temperament; there is
some hidden lack of sympathy between the composer and his interpreter.
A song should seem like a well-fitting garment; not only admirably
made, but specially designed for the person who wears it.