There is nothing so beneficial to the young artist as the kindly and
just criticism of a person who knows and nothing so stimulating as his
praise.
Among my most priceless possessions I treasure the words of
encouragement given me by Patti and Sembrich, those wonderful artists,
when I was beginning my career.
Mme. Patti is a splendid example of the many sidedness necessary to
artistic perfection. Her wonderful voice was always supplemented by
complete knowledge of the art of singing, and her mastery of languages
and of different fields of art made her not only a great artist, but a
most interesting woman.
To hear an artist of this kind is one of the most profitable parts of a
musical education.
But there are two ways of listening to a singer. There is the
appreciative way, and there is the entirely critical. The beginner
usually tries to show her knowledge by her intensely critical attitude.
The older you become in your art the more readily you will be able to
appreciate and learn from the singers you hear on the opera or concert
stage.
The greatest and the humblest singer can teach you something. But to
learn you must be in a receptive attitude.
The public has no real conception of what an amount of intelligent work
besides talent and art is necessary to achieve the results which it sees
or hears. Only those whose lives are devoted to the same ideals can
understand the struggles of other artists, and it is for that reason
that appreciation and not condemnation should be on the tongues of those
who themselves have studied.
The artist may demand the greatest things of herself, and what may be
good enough for others is not good enough for her. As the poet says,
"Art is long," though life may be short, and singing is one of the most
fleeting of all arts, since once the note is uttered it leaves only a
memory in the hearer's mind and since so many beautiful voices, for one
reason or other, go to pieces long before their time.
If the singer's health is good the voice should end only with life
itself, provided, of course, it has been used with understanding and
with art.
In performing before the public one should be governed by the tastes of
the public, not by one's own tastes. Just as the comedian usually wishes
to play Hamlet and the man of tragic mien thinks he could be a comedy
star, the singer who could make a fortune at interpreting chansonnettes
usually wishes to sing operatic rôles, and the singer with a deep and
heavy voice is longing to inflict baby songs on a long suffering public.
It is easy enough to find out what the public wishes to hear, and,
though one should always be enlarging one's repertory, it is not a bad
idea to stick to that field for which one is particularly fitted vocally
and physically.
In studying a rôle after one has mastered the technical difficulties one
should try to steep one's personality into that of the character one is
to portray, and for that reason all study, no matter what it is, and
reading of all kinds help one in developing a part.
The great Italian tragedienne, Duse, told me that one of her greatest
pleasures was to wander about the streets incognito watching the types
of people, following them round, observing them in their daily lives and
remembering all the small details of action, gesture or expression which
she could some day embody into a rôle.
The more one sees and studies people with sympathy, the more points one
gets for the study of life which is embodied in the art one gives forth.
But it is sympathy with one's fellow beings and kindly observation
which help one here, never the critical attitude.
An artist can only afford to be coldly critical toward his own work and
not toward the work of others.
Recently a young woman who started her vocal career as a contralto has
sung the most difficult of Wagnerian soprano parts. Her high notes, it
is true, were not the high notes of a natural soprano voice, but the
care and perfection with which each high note was attacked were worthy
of closest attention and admiration and defied criticism.
Hearing the smaller singers, the beginners who are still struggling with
their art, should awaken in the heart of the intelligent listener not
contemptuous criticism, but should be one means of realizing one's own
vocal defects and the possible ways of overcoming them.
There are bad singing teachers, of course, but often the pupils are
worse and will not listen to advice. The large and shrieking voice
usually belongs to this type of pupil, for it is easier to force the
voice when the temperament is robust and the vocal cords equally strong
than it is to learn gently and quietly the correct and natural position
in voice placement, and it is easier to make a noise as best you can
than to use intelligently the different resonance cavities for the
blending of the perfect tone.
Another fault severely criticised in the youthful singer is a lack of
correct pronunciation or diction. It is only after the voice is
perfectly controlled that the lips and tongue can function freely for
the pronunciation of syllables.
While the voice is in what might be called a state of ferment the
singer is only anxious to produce tones, and diction slips by the
wayside. The appreciative listener should be able to know whether a lack
of diction on the singer's part means immaturity or simply slovenliness.
Still another fault in voice production is the tremolo. It is the
over-ambitious singer, the singer who forces a small, light organ to do
heavy work, who develops the tremolo.
The tremolo is a sure sign that the vocal chords have been stretched
beyond their natural limits, and there is only one thing can cure this.
That is absolute rest for some time and then beginning the study of the
voice, first singing with the mouth closed and relying entirely on very
gentle breath pressure for the production of the sound.
The pupil suffering from tremolo or even very strong vibrato must have
courage to stop at once and to forego having a big voice. After all, the
most beautiful voices in the world are not necessarily the biggest
voices, and certainly the tremolo is about the worst fault a singer can
have. But that, like almost any other vocal defect, can be cured by
persistent effort of the right kind.
In singing in public as well as when practicing the singer must stand so
that the body will be perfectly and firmly poised. One should always
stand in such a position as to be able to inhale comfortably and control
a large breath, to allow the throat absolute freedom, with the head
sufficiently raised to let the inflowing air penetrate all the resonance
cavities.
The great thing to avoid is stiffness or discomfort of any kind in the
pose. At the same time one must have a gracious air, and while feeling
perfectly solidly poised on the feet, must make the impression of a
certain lightness and freedom from all bodily restraint.
I have not meant in these short articles to give you anything but a very
general idea of the salient points of the art of singing. After all,
each one must do the real work herself.
The road is full of discouragements and hardships, but there is always
something new and interesting to learn, and to achieve success, whether
for the public or merely for the home circle, is worth all the trouble
one can take. And so I wish you all success.