PRACTISING
Is it necessary to say that daily practice is indispensable to the
student--as it is also to the finished artist? A celebrated violinist
used to say, “If I cease practising for one day I know it when I next
play; if for two days my enemies know it; if for three the public know
it.” It is the same with the voice, although some voices, no doubt,
require less daily exercising than others.
Some fortunate ones, indeed, have been able to dispense with it almost
entirely. On the day of a performance the great Chaliapine warms his
voice up for a period of thirty or forty minutes only. On other days and
when on vacation he rarely practises, except for getting up new music,
and even this is more of a mental process. It is said of Mario also that
at the height of his fame he never practised more than ten minutes a
day, and that just before he was leaving for the Opera House, while his
servant would be standing, watch in hand, assuring him that he would be
late for the performance if he did not start at once. But that, of
course, was an exceptional case.
On the other hand, Battistini is most lavish with his practising and
rarely a day passes that he does not put in one or two hours of solid
singing. This no doubt accounts for the extraordinary command he has
over tone, phrasing and breathing. There is great truth in the saying
that practice makes perfect, but how many of us have the robust and
natural organ that Battistini is blessed with. I always thought that the
reason of this was the fact that Battistini, who could well have trained
as a tenor, elected to become a baritone, thus evading the strain of
forcing high “C’s” out of his voice.
At the same time even practising should not be carried to excess. Many
singers have, indeed, often done their voices great harm by practising
too much. The vocal cords are exceedingly delicate and cannot be used
too carefully. There can be no doubt that the wonderful preservation of
Patti’s voice was due in large measure to the extraordinary prudence and
care with which she husbanded it. By never singing at rehearsals, by
never singing when she was in the least degree out of health or tired,
and so on, she added years probably to the length of her career. And all
singers should act as far as possible on the same principle.
There should never be the smallest strain in practising, for instance.
For this reason it is advisable to practise with the half voice mostly
and only rarely at the extremities of the compass--and then with great
care and discretion. In the same way there should never be any sense of
fatigue, still less of hoarseness, after practice.
It is, indeed, in the ordinary way a sure sign that something is wrong,
either with your vocal organs or with your methods, if this occurs
often, and the matter should be investigated accordingly--even to the
extent of changing your teacher if necessary.
If, however, the trouble is only temporary, a brief suspension of
exercising may be all that is necessary. But in this case be careful not
to resume your practising until the trouble has completely disappeared.
Far better drop your practising for a week, or a month, if necessary,
than attempt to sing when your organs are not in perfect order.
That is to say, if there is really definite trouble. If, on the other
hand, it is merely a little hoarseness, such as many singers are subject
to, then _judicious_ exercising--please notice that I emphasise
judicious--may be the best thing for it. This is, however, essentially a
matter upon which you must be guided by your teacher--or even if
necessary by a doctor.
Madame Lilli Lehmann prescribes, for instance, what she calls the Great
Scale as an invaluable remedy for all manner of vocal ills--meaning
simply long slow scales of sustained notes steadily repeated. Here is
what she said, for instance, on this point:
“The great scale properly employed in practice accomplishes wonders. It
equalises the voice, makes it flexible and noble, gives strength to all
weak places, operates to repair all breaks and faults that exist, and
controls the voice to the very heart. Nothing escapes it. It is the
Guardian Angel of the voice. I sing it every day, often twice, even if I
have to sing one of my greatest rôles in the evening. I can rely
absolutely on its assistance.”
And, as I have said, she prescribed this very exercise not only for
daily practice when one is well, but also as a remedy for troubles when
the voice is out of order. I may be permitted, perhaps, to quote in this
connection another interesting passage:
“I myself had to sing ‘Norma’ in Vienna some years ago and got up in the
morning quite hoarse. By nine o’clock I tried my invaluable remedy, but
could not sing above A flat, although in the evening I should have to
reach high D flat and E flat. I was on the point of giving up because
the case seemed to be so desperate. Nevertheless, I practised till 11
o’clock, half an hour at a time, and noticed that I was gradually
getting better. In the evening I had my D flat and E flat at my command
so that people said they had seldom heard me sing so well.”
I have quoted this advice of Lilli Lehmann because it is of interest and
value as coming from so great an authority, but I do not wish it to be
understood that this has been my own precise practice, for this is not
the case. But as to the general value of scales for practising purposes
there is, of course, no possible doubt. Scales are, indeed, the
foundation of all useful practice, especially at first.
Marchesi, for instance, relied on them almost exclusively in the earlier
stages--long sustained tones, repeated again and again until her
fastidious ear was satisfied; and no pupil can possibly fail to benefit
from such exercise. Even for the acquisition of velocity, as I have said
elsewhere, scales--and quite slow ones at first--are indispensable.
Of more elaborate exercises there are none better, so far as I know,
than those to be found in Concone, while for advanced pupils well-chosen
numbers from the great Italian operatic masters, Rossini, Donizetti,
Bellini, and the rest, can be utilised with great advantage. This
includes mezzo-sopranos, contraltos, as well as sopranos. My maestro
would make them all sing “Una voce poco fa” transposed, saying that it
was a vocal massage.
But it is rather a matter for the individual teacher to prescribe what
is required in this way, since all voices will not need the same.
As to the period and duration of practising, my own plan is to practise
twice a day--at ten in the morning for an hour, with intervals of rest;
and again in the afternoon, before dinner, for the same time. But the
beginner should not practise for more than ten or fifteen minutes at a
time, and should leave off immediately his voice begins to feel tired.
To which, I would add, that it is of the utmost importance not only what
one practises but _how_. Ten minutes’ practice with the maximum of
thought and concentration will be of more value than a whole hour of
mere mechanical scales and arpeggi, sung without thought and care.
The pupil, while practising, should listen to himself with the utmost
vigilance all the time--criticising ruthlessly every tone, and seeking
always to eradicate every fault and blemish. It is for lack of this
_mental_ effort that pupils so often practise in vain--improving
themselves in certain respects perhaps, but never acquiring that beauty
of tone and perfection of execution which should be the foundation of
all.
I would repeat here, indeed, what I have said before, that unsparing
self-criticism is the root of all progress. Nor should this ever cease.
As a great artist remarked in some words which I quoted earlier, the
true artist will continue studying and practising and improving to the
end of his day.
Read, for instance, what Signor Fucito tells us of Caruso:
“No one could have been a severer critic of Caruso’s art than Caruso
himself. He worked with tremendous concentration, and his acute ear was
ever ready to descry the slightest flaw in the tone production, in
quality or the interpretation of a musical passage.”
And again:
“There were times when he refused to rest, singing a passage or phrase
over and over again, each time with another vocal modulation of
colouring until he got the expression and quality that satisfied his
exacting musical taste.”
It is interesting to note, by the way, that Caruso practised always, or
nearly always, with the full voice--a procedure which is not, however,
as I have already said, to be generally recommended.
Incidentally in practising the student should avoid the acquisition of
bad habits of standing, undesirable movements with the hands, and so
on, and should also keep careful check upon his facial expressions. For
the latter purpose it is an excellent plan to practise before a mirror,
since this is the surest way to avoid the unconscious cultivation of
undesirable tricks which, once they have been acquired, may prove most
difficult to get rid of.
In the case of operatic artists it is a good plan also to practise in
costume in order to become accustomed to the dress which one will be
wearing in the actual performance, and thus to avoid any sense of
awkwardness which may be otherwise experienced. And for the same reason
when any particular number has to be sung in any special manner from the
physical point of view, as, for instance, sitting down, or kneeling, it
is well to become accustomed to this also beforehand.