CHAPTER XIX

ENUNCIATION

After the fundamental problems of breathing, tone production and so

forth have been dealt with, there is nothing to which the student should

pay greater attention than the question of diction, or right

enunciation. Yet I am afraid it is rare to find that this view of the

matter is acted upon. On the contrary, this question of diction appears

to be one of the last to which most singers are disposed to give any

serious attention.

Hence the unintelligible sounds which are so often heard proceeding from

vocalists, alike in the concert room and on the stage, so that one

sometimes can scarcely tell even in what language they are supposed to

be singing.

This is, of course, a deplorable state of affairs, but yet one so well

established that in nine cases out of ten it is hardly thought worthy of

remark by the average hearer. It is taken as a matter of course, in

other words, that only a word or two, here and there, of those sung

shall be understood by the audience, and one may listen attentively to

an entire opera without having more than a vague idea at the end as to

what it was all about.

Yet in the case of certain singers one may understand without difficulty

practically every word they sing, the fact being thereby demonstrated

that there is not the slightest real necessity for the incredibly

slovenly and defective enunciation which is permitted with such

surprising and lamentable tolerance by the public at large.

So far as opera is concerned, I think that the blame rests largely with

the managers. If they would adopt the practice of deputing some

trustworthy representative at every rehearsal to sit in the topmost

gallery and relentlessly pull up every singer whose words could not be

clearly understood, the difficulty, I am convinced, would speedily

disappear. And operatic directors, I am sure, would find it greatly to

their advantage to adopt this course if only on account of the greater

popularity which opera would enjoy if it could always be followed, as it

should be, as easily as a spoken play.

I believe that in England especially, where opera in the native language

is, as I am delighted to see, making such steady headway, its acceptance

by the general public is hindered more on this account than by any other

reason. Yet there is not the slightest necessity for the presentation of

the drama, which is sung instead of being spoken, to be hampered and

handicapped in this grievous fashion, and it only needs more vigorous

action on the part of the directing powers, I am persuaded, to remedy

matters.

So long, however, as singers are left to themselves in this respect, the

difficulty will always remain, since their inevitable tendency is to

sacrifice diction to tone quality--in other words, to achieve the best

effects in the purely vocal sense and let the words look after

themselves.

And this brings us at once to the root of the diction problem, namely,

the undoubted difficulty which presents itself at times in reconciling

the claims of good tone and clear enunciation. When a pupil is studying

he practises upon the easiest vowel sounds and syllables which can be

selected; and many singers, I am afraid, would like nothing better than

to be allowed to continue singing upon these agreeable and grateful

vocables to the end of their day.

Unfortunately, however, this is not quite possible, and so too many try

to get over the difficulty by singing the words not in the way in which

they should be pronounced, but in the manner most convenient to

themselves. It is hardly necessary to say that this is all wrong and

most inartistic, besides being quite unnecessary.

It may be said that it is easy for an Italian to speak thus, and it must

certainly be agreed that we Italians are greatly favoured in having the

most vocal and melodious of all languages to sing. With our open vowels

we may be considered, indeed, to have every advantage in this respect,

just as the Germans with their multiplicity of harsh and difficult and,

to Italian ears, almost impossible consonants, have every disadvantage.

Yet the principle remains unaffected that every singer, in whatever

language, who wishes to be considered a master of his art must contrive

to reconcile the claims of good tone with those of accurate and

intelligible diction, and the student cannot pay too much attention to

this matter from the very moment that he begins to clothe his tones in

words.

“Sing as you speak,” is a saying which I have heard ascribed to that

great master, Jean de Reszke, and though the advice cannot, perhaps, be

taken quite literally, it certainly indicates the ideal to be kept in

view. It is not feasible to obey the injunction quite literally because

it is almost physically impossible to sing certain sounds on certain

notes. On this account many teachers--Lamperti himself was one of

them--sanction the deliberate modification of the proper vowel sounds

or, preferably, the substitution of a more convenient word. But the

object should certainly be to keep as near as may be practicable to the

correct, natural pronunciation, whereas some seem to make it their aim

almost to depart from this as far as possible.

One of the worst examples of execrable enunciation was given by one

singer when giving an otherwise creditable rendering of Maude Valerie

White’s “Devout Lover.” The words intended were “Burn at her altar,”

which were given “Burnateralter.”

Some English singers have the habit of putting a vowel after a

consonant, as in the word “Good-bye,” which becomes “Goodabye” and which

is absurd.

Baritones often have a habit of emphasising wrong words, of which one of

the best examples is “Trumpeter, what _are_ you sounding now?” Another

absurdity.

One could multiply these examples indefinitely.

How to Sing · 第 19 / 30 章