GENERAL CULTURE
Of course, too, wide general culture is very necessary. Everything that
can be possibly acquired in this way helps, and is, indeed, almost more
necessary to the singer than in the case of any other branch of the
profession.
For the art of the singer is brought into immediate relation with all
the other arts. The singer has to deal with poetry and literature and
the drama--if he takes up opera--in a way quite unknown to the mere
instrumentalist.
A man might be a great pianist or a fine violinist--he might even be a
great composer--without ever concerning himself at all with the other
arts. But in the case of the singer this would be quite impossible.
For it is the singer’s business to interpret poetry in song and to play
his part in drama on the stage, and it is obvious that he cannot hope to
do these things properly without making himself acquainted with those
arts also in addition to his own.
How can one hope, for instance, for a fine interpretation of a great
song if the words themselves mean nothing to the singer? He may sing
the notes, but he cannot possibly do justice to his task unless he
enters completely into the spirit of the words and the meaning of the
poet.
And in the same way how can one hope to give a satisfactory
impersonation of a part in an opera except by studying carefully the
drama as a whole, grasping the intentions of the author, making oneself
acquainted with the period of the action, and generally entering into it
and all the literary, dramatic, historical, and other details of the
work as well as considering it from the purely musical point of view?
I am well aware that the opposite practice has often enough been
followed. I have heard, indeed, of artists who have sung in such an
opera as “Il Trovatore” for years without having ever troubled to
understand the course of the action as a whole, and who were
consequently in a state of total ignorance as to what it was all about.
But I cannot believe that any one who addressed himself to his task in
that unintelligent spirit would ever be likely to give an interpretation
of his own part of much significance or value.
In my own case I go so far as to study not only, as a whole, any opera
in which I have to take part, but even to learn, or at all events
familiarise myself with, all of the other rôles. And I may add that I
have found the practice helpful not only to myself but also to my
fellow-artists before now, when perhaps some nervous tenor or timid
débutante has temporarily “dried up,” and I have been enabled to come to
the rescue and relieve the situation. This, however, merely _en
passant_.
The main point I am insisting on for the moment is that the vocalist who
wishes to make the most of his powers cannot have too solid a foundation
in the way of general knowledge and culture. There may be no direct
connection between the one thing and the other, but his art will benefit
none the less--will gain in depth and force and subtlety--in virtue of
the fact that it is the outcome of a cultivated nature and the product
of a mind which has thought and pondered over the deeper problems of
existence.