INTERPRETATION IN CONDUCTING
(_Concluded_)
TIMBRE, PHRASING, _ET CETERA_
[Sidenote: IMPORTANCE OF TIMBRE IN INTERPRETATION]
Having devoted considerable space to discussing the two expressional
elements for which the composer is mainly responsible, let us now
present briefly certain matters connected with the other six elements
in our list (see p. 46). The two described as being partly controlled
by composer and partly by the interpreter are timbre and phrasing, and
we shall accordingly treat these first. Timbre or tone-quality is less
important than either tempo or dynamics, and is obviously less under
the control of the conductor. The vocalist may be induced to sing more
loudly or the violinist to play more rapidly, but it is often
impossible to get either to so modify his actual tone quality as to
make his rendition more expressive. And yet, in spite of this
difficulty, there are many passages in both choral and orchestral
music in which the essential significance depends absolutely upon
beauty or ugliness or plaintiveness or boldness of tone; and
especially in choral music is it possible for the conductor to induce
his chorus to bring out many more such effects than is usually done. A
positively ugly and raspy vocal tone may convey a certain dramatic
effect that no mere variation in dynamics is able to bring about, an
example of this being found in the _Chorus of People_ who sing at
various points in the cantata by Dubois called _The Seven Last Words
of Christ_. Another very short passage of the same sort is found in
Stainer's _Crucifixion_ in the scene at the cross. Mr. Coward has
written more in detail upon this point than anyone else, and we may
well quote his discussion of the topic "characterization."[21]
[Footnote 21: Coward, _Choral Technique and Interpretation_, p. 73.]
One of the distinguishing features of modern choral
technique is what I term "characterization," or realism of
the sentiment expressed in the music. Formerly this kind of
singing was tabooed to such an extent that when in
rehearsals and at concerts I induced the Sheffield Musical
Union to sing with graphic power musicians of the old school
voted me a mad enthusiast, extravagant, theatrical, ultra,
and many other things of the same sort. These people
wondered why I wanted variety of tone color--who had ever
heard of such a demand from a choir?--and many of my friends
even thought I was demanding too much when, in rehearsing
Berlioz's _Faust_, I asked for something harder in tone than
the usual fluty, mellifluous sound in order to depict the
hearty laugh of the peasants in the first chorus. They were
almost scandalized when I asked for a somewhat raucous,
devil-may-care carousal, tone in the "Auerbach's
Wine-cellar" scene, and when a fiendish, snarling utterance
was called for in the "Pandemonium" scene they thought I was
mad. However, the performance settled all these objections.
It was seen by contrast how ridiculous it was for a choir to
laugh like Lord Dundreary with a sort of throaty gurgle; how
inane it was to depict wine-cellar revelry with voices
suggesting the sentimental drawing-room tenor, and how
insipid it was to portray fiendish glee within hell's
portals with the staid decorum of a body of local preachers
of irreproachable character.
Of course the battle in the rehearsal room had to be fought
sternly inch by inch, but frequent trials, approval of the
progress shown, and brilliant success at the concert won the
day. It was so convincing that many said they could taste
wine and smell brimstone....
Contrasts of tone-color, contrasts of differently placed
choirs, contrasts of sentiment--love, hate, hope, despair,
joy, sorrow, brightness, gloom, pity, scorn, prayer, praise,
exaltation, depression, laughter, and tears--in fact all the
emotions and passions are now expected to be delineated by
the voice alone. It may be said, in passing, that in
fulfilling these expectations choral singing has entered on
a new lease of life. Instead of the cry being raised that
the choral societies are doomed, we shall find that by
absorbing the elixir of _characterization_ they have renewed
their youth; and when the shallow pleasures of the picture
theater and the empty elements of the variety show have been
discovered to be unsatisfying to the normal aspirations of
intellectual, moral beings, the social, healthful,
stimulating, intellectual, moral, and spiritual uplift of
the choral society will be appreciated more than ever....
Tender-handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains,
Grasp it like a man of mettle,
And it soft as silk remains.
Before stating how to produce the laugh, the sob, the sigh,
the snarl, the moan, bell effects, ejaculations and
"trick-singing," all of which come under the head of
_characterization_, I would say that if an ultra thing is
undertaken it must be done boldly. The spirit of the old
rhyme above quoted must be acted upon, or fear will paralyze
the efforts put forth, and failure will be the result. In
choral singing, as in other things, the masculinity of the
doing, the boldness, the daring, the very audacity with
which an extreme effect is produced, carries success with
it. Therefore do not attempt a daring thing feebly or by
halves.
[Sidenote: TIMBRE IN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC]
In instrumental music, timbre is also a highly potent influence in
arousing emotional states, and we are all familiar with the fact that
an oboe passage is often associated with the simplicity of outdoor
rural life; that a melody for English horn has somehow become
connected with mournful thoughts; the sound of trumpets, with martial
ideas; and the grunting of the lower register of the bassoon, with
comic effects. It is well known, also, that the skilful violinist can
cause his instrument to sound an infinite variety of shades of color.
But these means of expression are almost wholly under the control of
the individual players and of the composer (as orchestrator), and
cannot therefore be profitably discussed in a work on conducting.
[Sidenote: PHRASING]
The phrase in music is very similar to the phrase in language. In both
cases, it is a thought (usually incomplete and forming a part of some
larger idea) which must be slightly separated from the preceding and
following phrases, that it may be correctly understood; yet must be
so rendered in relation to the neighboring material as to seem an
integral part of the whole. In addition, it is of course necessary to
emphasize the important words in a language phrase and the most
significant tones in a musical one, as well as to subordinate the
comparatively unimportant parts, in such a way that the real
significance of the whole may be clear. Phrasing is thus readily seen
to be an extremely important factor in the expressive reading of
language, since one could scarcely interpret intelligibly if he did
not first of all read as a group the words that belong together as a
thought; and one could certainly not convey the correct idea of the
group to a listener if the most important words in it were not
stressed so as to stand out more vividly than the others. Although not
so readily understood because of the absence of symbolism, phrasing is
quite as important an element in the expressive rendition of music as
it is in the case of language. In order to interpret properly the
conductor must first of all determine what tones belong together in a
group; must make the individuality of these groups evident by slightly
separating them, but usually not to the degree of disturbing the basic
rhythmic flow; and must so manage the _dynamics_ and _tempo_ of each
phrase as to make its content clear to the listener. Many phrases are
so constructed that their proper delivery involves a gradual
_crescendo_ up to the climax (usually the highest tone) and a
corresponding _diminuendo_ from this point to the end of the phrase.
[Sidenote: PHRASING IN VOCAL MUSIC]
In vocal music, the matter of phrasing is comparatively simple because
here the composer has, in general, adapted the melody to the phrasing
of the text; and since in language we have definite ideas and concrete
imagery to assist us, all that we usually need to do in studying the
phrasing of vocal music is to follow carefully the phrasing of the
text. But even then a warning ought perhaps to be given the young
conductor regarding carelessness or ignorance on the part of singers
about some of the most fundamental principles of phrasing. The most
common mistakes made are:
1. Taking breath unnecessarily in the middle of a phrase.
2. Breathing between the syllables of a word.
3. Dividing a long phrase improperly.
4. Running over breathing places where a pause is really
necessary in order to bring out the meaning of the text.
5. Pronouncing the unaccented syllable of a word at the end
of a phrase with too much stress.
6. Failing to stress the climax sufficiently.
Mistakes of this kind are made because the singer all too frequently
fails to recognize the fact that the interpretation of vocal music
must be based upon the meaning of the text rather than upon purely
musical considerations (_cf._ quotation from Caruso on page 44).
A comma or rest ordinarily indicates the end of a phrase in vocal
music. If, however, the phrase as marked is too long to be taken in
one breath, the conductor should study it carefully for some point in
it where another breath may be taken without too greatly marring the
continuity of the text. Sometimes in a large chorus various sections
of a division may take breath at different points, thus preserving the
integrity of the phrase in certain cases where this is particularly
desirable. It should be noted that when a breath is taken in the
middle of a phrase or between the phrases where no rest occurs, the
time for breathing must always be taken from the last note of the
_preceding_ phrase, in order that the continuity of the rhythm may not
be sacrificed.
The importance of studying phrasing from the standpoint of the
effective rendition of sacred music will be realized more vividly if
one takes the trouble to inquire of some of the members of the
congregation how well they understood the words of the anthem or solo.
The replies that will ordinarily be given to such a question will
probably astonish the director of the church choir; and although he
will sometimes be inclined to put the blame on the ears and minds of
the congregation, there is no doubt that in very many cases the
difficulty may be traced to poor enunciation and faulty phrasing on
the part of the singers. The following examples are reported to be
authentic instances of phrasing by church choirs:
Jesus lives no longer now,
Can thy terrors, Death, appall us?
The poet had quite a different thought in mind when he penned these
words, with the correct punctuation marks:
Jesus lives! no longer now
Can thy terrors, Death, appall us!
The wild winds hushed the angry deep,
Sank like a little child to sleep.
What this verse means is, of course, easily seen by inserting the
correct punctuation marks:
The wild winds hushed; the angry deep
Sank like a little child to sleep.
[Sidenote: PHRASING IN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC]
In instrumental music we have no definite ideas and no concrete
imagery to guide us; and the conductor, in company with all other
students of instrumental music, will find it necessary to study his
score most carefully if he is to unravel the threads that are woven
together in such complex fashion in orchestral music. As implied
above, phrasing in instrumental music means:
1. The grouping together of tones that belong to the same
musical thought, this implying a slight break in continuity
between phrases, as in language.
2. Making evident the musical significance of the group by
accenting or prolonging its most important tones.
These are only general principles, however, and the details of
phrasing in instrumental music cannot be treated adequately in writing
because of their too great complexity. It is only through practice,
reinforced by the intelligent criticism of a real musician, that skill
and taste in the art of phrasing can be acquired. A few concrete
suggestions are offered, and these may be of some slight help to the
amateur, but they are not to be thought of as "a complete guide."
1. The first tone of the phrase is often stressed slightly
in order to mark the beginning of the new idea.
2. The final tone (particularly of the short phrase) is
commonly shortened in order to make clear the separation
between phrases.
3. The climacteric tone of the phrase is often prolonged
slightly as well as accented, in order to make its
relationship to the other tones stand out clearly.
[Sidenote: RHYTHM]
Closely connected with phrasing is rhythm, and although the rhythmic
factor should perhaps theoretically belong wholly to the composer,
since he is able to express his rhythmic ideas in definite notation,
yet in actual practice this does not prove to be the case because the
amateur player or singer so often finds that "time is hard"; and there
are consequently many occasions when the rhythm indicated by the
composer is wholly distorted, either because the performers are weak
in their rhythmic feeling or because the conductor is careless and
does not see to it that the rhythmic response of his chorus or
orchestra is accurate and incisive and yet elastic.
Rhythm is the oldest of the musical elements and there is no question
but that the rhythmic appeal is still the strongest of all for the
majority of people. Rhythm is the spark of life in music, therefore,
woe to the composer who attempts to substitute ethereal harmonies for
virile rhythms as a general principle of musical construction. Mere
tones, even though beautiful both in themselves and through effective
combination, are meaningless, and it is only through rhythm that they
become vitalized. In order to have interesting performances of choral
and orchestral music the conductor must see to it that the performers
play or sing all rhythmic figures correctly, that long tones are
sustained for their correct duration, and that in general the musical
performance be permeated by that steady throb of regular pulsation
which is the foundation of all rhythmic coherence.
Modern musical rhythm is so complex in its frequent employment of
syncopations, "cross accents," _et cetera_, that the prospective
conductor must study indefatigably if he is to unravel its apparently
inextricably snarled-up threads. We assume, however, that detailed
study of rhythm has constituted a part of the student's work in piano,
singing, _et cetera_, and shall therefore not attempt to treat the
matter further. Let us advise the would-be conductor, however, to
continue his study of rhythm and phrasing unceasingly and never to
allow himself to be deluded into believing that an accurate knowledge
of these things is less necessary now than formerly. It has seemed to
us that some public performers of the present day were cloaking their
inability to play or sing with rhythmic accuracy under a pretense of
being highly artistic and flexible in their rhythmic feeling. Needless
to say, the existence of such a state of affairs is to be greatly
deplored and the student is admonished to make sure that he is able to
perform every detail of his music with metronomic accuracy before he
attempts _rubato_ effects.
[Sidenote: MELODY, HARMONY, AND PITCH REGISTERS]
The second, third, and fourth of the elements of expression as cited
in our list on page 46 belong almost wholly to the composer since he
is able to indicate them precisely, and the conductor's chief concern
in dealing with melody, harmony, and pitch registers will be to make
certain that the composer's wishes are carried out to the letter. For
this reason no attempt will be made to discuss these matters further,
the topic belonging to composition rather than to conducting.
[Sidenote: PHYSICAL MEANS USED BY THE CONDUCTOR FOR INDICATING
EXPRESSIONAL EFFECTS]
Now that we have reviewed the elements of expression somewhat fully,
what of the conductor? Shall we give him a set of specific directions
for making his chorus or orchestra sing or play more loudly or more
rapidly or more dramatically? Our reply is--no, not any more than we
should attempt to show the student of acting or oratory exactly what
gestures he is to make use of in playing upon the emotions of his
audience. As implied at the outset, the thing that is necessary in
both cases is that the interpreter have:
1. General scholarship.
2. An intimate acquaintance with the content and spirit of
the particular work to be interpreted.
Granting the presence of these two things, the actual gestures will
usually take care of themselves. The conductor Altschuler remarks on
this point:
There is no artificial code of signals needed between the
conductor and his men; what the conductor needs is a clear
conception of the composition.
We are fully in accord with this sentiment; but for the benefit of the
tyro it may be well to note again that, in general, a quickening of
tempo is indicated by a shorter, more vigorous stroke of the baton,
whereas a slowing down in rate of speed, especially when accompanied
by a letting down of emotional intensity, involves a longer, more
flowing movement, with more back stroke. Louder tone is often
indicated by the clenched fist, the _fortissimo_ effect at the
climacteric point often involving a strong muscular contraction in the
entire body; while softer tone is frequently called for by holding the
left hand out with palm down, by loosening the grip upon the baton,
and by a generally relaxed condition of the entire body. Dynamic
changes are also indicated to a certain extent by the amplitude of the
beat and by the position of the hands. In calling for a _pianissimo_
effect, the conductor usually gives short beats with the hands close
together (if the left hand is also used), but in demanding
_fortissimo_ the beat is usually of much greater amplitude, and the
hands, therefore, widely separated. For the swell ([crescendo-decrescendo
symbol]) the hands are usually close together at the beginning, are
then gradually separated as far as possible, coming together again at
the end of the _decrescendo_.
Changes in quality are perhaps most frequently suggested by variation
in the facial expression, poise of body, _et cetera_, while phrasing
is often indicated by a movement of the left hand (thus signaling some
part to begin or stop) or by a lifting of the arms and shoulders at
the breathing point, thus simulating the action of the lungs in taking
breath, and causing the singers or players actually to take a breath
by instinctive imitation. The manner in which the baton is grasped and
manipulated is of course another way of indicating these various
expressional effects, this being especially noticeable in the case of
phrasing, which is perhaps most often indicated by simply raising the
baton higher at the end of a phrase, thus preparing it for a longer
sweep at the beginning of the following phrase. But all of these
things are done in different ways by various conductors, and no set
rules can therefore be formulated.
The most important point to be noted by the beginner in conducting is
that one must not direct with merely the hand and arm, but must use
the entire body from head to toe in communicating to his chorus or
orchestra his own emotion. Facial expression, the manner of grasping
the baton, the set of the shoulders, the elevation of the chest, the
position of the feet, the poise of the head--all these must he
indicative of the emotional tone of the music being rendered. But be
sure you feel a genuine emotion which leads you to do these various
things, and do not play to the audience by going through all kinds of
contortions that are not prompted at all by the meaning of the music,
but are called into existence entirely by the conductor's desire to
have the audience think that he is a great interpreter. If the
conductor does his work at any point in such a fashion that the
audience watches him and is filled with marvel and admiration because
of the interesting movements that he is making, instead of listening
to the chorus or orchestra and being thrilled by the beautiful music
that is being heard, then that conductor is retarding rather than
advancing the progress of art appreciation; in short he is failing in
his mission. One of the sincerest compliments that the writer has ever
received came when he asked his wife whether he had conducted well at
a certain public performance, and she replied that she guessed it was
all right, but that she had been so absorbed in listening to the music
that she had not thought of him at all!
The development of modern orchestral and operatic music has brought
about a tremendous change in the prominence of the conductor, and
there is no doubt but that his part in musical performance is now more
important than that of any other type of interpreter, being probably
second in importance only to that of the composer. From having been
originally a mere time-beater, he has now come to be the interpreter
_par excellence_; and as Weingartner remarks (_op. cit._, p. 9) in
referring to Wagner's conducting:
He is often able to transform as if by magic a more or less
indefinite sound picture into a beautifully shaped,
heart-moving vision, making people ask themselves in
astonishment how it is that this work which they had long
thought they knew should have all at once become quite
another thing. And the unprejudiced mind joyfully confesses,
"Thus, thus, must it be."
It will soon be discovered by the amateur that in every case where an
effect such as that described by Weingartner has been brought about,
it is because the conductor has studied the music and has then made
gestures which were prompted by his sympathetic response to the
thought of the composer. In other words, the conducting was effective
because the feeling which prompted the gestures came from within, as
is always the case when an orator or an actor moves us deeply. This is
what is meant by interpretation in conducting; and we can scarcely do
better, in concluding our discussion of the whole matter, than to
quote once more from a writer to whom we have already referred.[22]
[Footnote 22: C.F.A. Williams, _The Rhythm of Modern Music_, p. 18.]
The great interpreters of instrumental music are those who
can most nearly enter into the composer's ideals, or can
even improve upon them, and who are able to give a delicacy
or force of accentuation or phrasing which it is outside of
the possibility of notation to express.... The days of cold,
classical performance of great works are practically over.
The executant or conductor now seeks to stir the deeper
emotions of his audience, and to do so he must pay homage to
the artist who conceived the work, by interpreting it with
enthusiasm and warmth.