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HOW TO SING
[MEINE GESANGSKUNST]
BY
LILLI LEHMANN
[Illustration: MADAME LILLI LEHMANN.]
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN
BY
RICHARD ALDRICH
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.
1902
_All rights reserved_
COPYRIGHT, 1902,
BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
Set up and electrotyped November, 1902.
Norwood Press
J.S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith
Norwood Mass. U.S.A.
[Transcriber's Note: In this e-text, characters with macrons are
preceded by an equal sign and enclosed in brackets, e.g., [=a].
Characters with breves are preceded by a right parenthesis and
enclosed in brackets, e.g., [)e]. Superscripted characters are
preceded by a carat, e.g., Gretel^e.]
CONTENTS
PAGE
MY PURPOSE 1
MY TITLE TO WRITE ON THE ART OF SONG 5
SECTION I
PRELIMINARY PRACTICE 11
SECTION II
OF THE BREATH 19
SECTION III
OF THE BREATH AND WHIRLING CURRENTS 27
SECTION IV
THE SINGER'S PHYSIOLOGICAL STUDIES 35
SECTION V
EQUALIZING THE VOICE; BREATH; FORM 45
SECTION VI
THE ATTACK 69
SECTION VII
NASAL. NASAL SINGING 73
SECTION VIII
SINGING TOWARD THE NOSE. HEAD VOICE 78
SECTION IX
THE HEAD VOICE 86
SECTION X
SENSATION AND POSITION OF THE TONGUE 99
SECTION XI
THE SENSATIONS OF THE PALATE 102
SECTION XII
THE SENSATION OF THE RESONANCE OF THE HEAD CAVITIES 108
SECTION XIII
SINGING COVERED 123
SECTION XIV
ON VOCAL REGISTERS 133
SECTION XV
DEVELOPMENT AND EQUALIZATION 142
SECTION XVI
WHITE VOICES 154
SECTION XVII
THEODOR WACHTEL 158
SECTION XVIII
THE HIGHEST HEAD TONES 162
SECTION XIX
EXTENSION OF THE COMPASS AND EQUALIZATION OF REGISTERS 169
SECTION XX
THE TREMOLO 170
SECTION XXI
THE CURE 176
SECTION XXII
THE TONGUE 181
SECTION XXIII
PREPARATION FOR SINGING 189
SECTION XXIV
THE POSITION OF THE MOUTH (CONTRACTION OF THE MUSCLES OF SPEECH) 192
SECTION XXV
CONNECTION OF VOWELS 196
SECTION XXVI
THE LIPS 212
SECTION XXVII
THE VOWEL SOUND _AH_ 214
SECTION XXVIII
ITALIAN AND GERMAN 219
SECTION XXIX
AUXILIARY VOWELS 226
SECTION XXX
RESONANT CONSONANTS 229
SECTION XXXI
PRACTICAL EXERCISES 232
SECTION XXXII
THE GREAT SCALE 239
SECTION XXXIII
VELOCITY 245
SECTION XXXIV
TRILL 251
SECTION XXXV
HOW TO HOLD ONE'S SELF WHEN PRACTISING 256
SECTION XXXVI
CONCERNING EXPRESSION 263
SECTION XXXVII
BEFORE THE PUBLIC 265
SECTION XXXVIII
INTERPRETATION 270
SECTION XXXIX
IN CONCLUSION 279
NOTE.--A GOOD REMEDY FOR CATARRH AND HOARSENESS 281
MY PURPOSE
My purpose is to discuss simply, intelligibly, yet from a scientific
point of view, the sensations known to us in singing, and exactly
ascertained in my experience, by the expressions "singing open,"
"covered," "dark," "nasal," "in the head," or "in the neck,"
"forward," or "back." These expressions correspond to our sensations
in singing; but they are unintelligible as long as the causes of those
sensations are unknown, and everybody has a different idea of them.
Many singers try their whole lives long to produce them and never
succeed. This happens because science understands too little of
singing, the singer too little of science. I mean that the
physiological explanations of the highly complicated processes of
singing are not plainly enough put for the singer, who has to concern
himself chiefly with his sensations in singing and guide himself by
them. Scientific men are not at all agreed as to the exact functions
of the several organs; the humblest singer knows something about them.
Every serious artist has a sincere desire to help others reach the
goal--the goal toward which all singers are striving: to sing well and
beautifully.
The true art of song has always been possessed and will always be
possessed by such individuals as are dowered by nature with all that
is needful for it--that is, healthy vocal organs, uninjured by vicious
habits of speech; a good ear, a talent for singing, intelligence,
industry, and energy.
In former times eight years were devoted to the study of singing--at
the Prague Conservatory, for instance. Most of the mistakes and
misunderstandings of the pupil could be discovered before he secured
an engagement, and the teacher could spend so much time in correcting
them that the pupil learned to pass judgment on himself properly.
But art to-day must be pursued like everything else, by steam. Artists
are turned out in factories, that is, in so-called conservatories, or
by teachers who give lessons ten or twelve hours a day. In two years
they receive a certificate of competence, or at least the diploma of
the factory. The latter, especially, I consider a crime, that the
state should prohibit.
All the inflexibility and unskilfulness, mistakes and deficiencies,
which were formerly disclosed during a long course of study, do not
appear now, under the factory system, until the student's public
career has begun. There can be no question of correcting them, for
there is no time, no teacher, no critic; and the executant has learned
nothing, absolutely nothing, whereby he could undertake to distinguish
or correct them.
The incompetence and lack of talent whitewashed over by the factory
concern lose only too soon their plausible brilliancy. A failure in
life is generally the sad end of such a factory product; and to
factory methods the whole art of song is more and more given over as a
sacrifice.
I cannot stand by and see these things with indifference. My artistic
conscience urges me to disclose all that I have learned and that has
become clear to me in the course of my career, for the benefit of art;
and to give up my "secrets," which seem to be secrets only because
students so rarely pursue the path of proper study to its end. If
artists, often such only in name, come to a realization of their
deficiencies, they lack only too frequently the courage to acknowledge
them to others. Not until we artists all reach the point when we can
take counsel with each other about our mistakes and deficiencies, and
discuss the means for overcoming them, putting our pride in our
pockets, will bad singing and inartistic effort be checked, and our
noble art of singing come into its rights again.
MY TITLE TO WRITE ON THE ART OF SONG
Rarely are so many desirable and necessary antecedents united as in my
case.
The child of two singers, my mother being gifted musically quite out
of the common, and active for many years not only as a dramatic
singer, but also as a harp virtuoso, I, with my sister Marie, received
a very careful musical education; and later a notable course of
instruction in singing from her. From my fifth year on I listened
daily to singing lessons; from my ninth year I played accompaniments
on the pianoforte, sang all the missing parts, in French, Italian,
German, and Bohemian; got thoroughly familiar with all the operas, and
very soon knew how to tell good singing from bad. Our mother took
care, too, that we should hear all the visiting notabilities of that
time in opera as well as in concert; and there were many of them every
year at the Deutsches Landestheater in Prague.
She herself had found a remarkable singing teacher in the Frankfort
basso, Föppel; and kept her voice noble, beautiful, young, and strong
to the end of her life,--that is, till her seventy-seventh
year,--notwithstanding enormous demands upon it and many a blow of
fate. She could diagnose a voice infallibly; but required a probation
of three to four months to test talent and power of making progress.
I have been on the stage since my eighteenth year; that is, for
thirty-four years. In Prague I took part every day in operas,
operettas, plays, and farces. Thereafter in Danzig I sang from
eighteen to twenty times a month in coloratura and soubrette parts;
also in Leipzig, and later, fifteen years in Berlin. In addition I
sang in very many oratorios and concerts, and gave lessons now and
then.
As long as my mother lived she was my severest critic, never
satisfied. Finally I became such for myself. Now fifteen years more
have passed, of which I spent eight very exacting ones as a dramatic
singer in America, afterward fulfilling engagements as a star, in all
languages, in Germany, Austria, Hungary, France, England, and Sweden.
My study of singing, nevertheless, was not relaxed. I kept it up more
and more zealously by myself, learned something from everybody,
learned to _hear_ myself and others.
For many years I have been devoting myself to the important questions
relating to singing, and believe that I have finally found what I have
been seeking. It has been my endeavor to set down as clearly as
possible all that I have learned through zealous, conscientious study
by myself and with others, and thereby to offer to my colleagues
something that will bring order into the chaos of their methods of
singing; something based on science as well as on sensations in
singing; something that will bring expressions often misunderstood
into clear relation with the exact functions of the vocal organs.
In what I have just said I wish to give a sketch of my career only to
show what my voice has endured, and why, notwithstanding the enormous
demands I have made upon it, it has lasted so well. One who has sung
for a short time, and then has lost his voice, and for this reason
becomes a singing teacher, has never sung consciously; it has simply
been an accident, and this accident will be repeated, for good or for
ill, in his pupils.
The talent in which all the requirements of an artist are united is
very rare. Real talent will get along, even with an inferior teacher,
in some way or another; while the best teacher cannot produce talent
where there is none. Such a teacher, however, will not beguile people
with promises that cannot be kept.
My chief attention I devote to artists, whom I can, perhaps, assist in
their difficult, but glorious, profession. One is never done with
learning; and that is especially true of singers. I earnestly hope
that I may leave them something, in my researches, experiences, and
studies, that will be of use. I regard it as my duty; and I confide it
to all who are striving earnestly for improvement.
GRÜNEWALD, Oct. 31, 1900.
SECTION I
PRELIMINARY PRACTICE
It is very important for all who wish to become artists to begin their
work not with practical exercises in singing, but with serious
practice in tone production, in breathing in and out, in the functions
of the lungs and palate, in clear pronunciation of all letters, and
with speech in general.
Then it would soon be easy to recognize talent or the lack of it. Many
would open their eyes in wonder over the difficulties of learning to
sing, and the proletariat of singers would gradually disappear. With
them would go the singing conservatories and the bad teachers who, for
a living, teach everybody that comes, and promise to make everybody a
great artist.
Once when I was acting as substitute for a teacher in a conservatory,
the best pupils of the institution were promised me,--those who needed
only the finishing touches. But when, after my first lesson, I went to
the director and complained of the ignorance of the pupils, my mouth
was closed with these words, "For Heaven's sake, don't say such
things, or we could never keep our conservatory going!"
I had enough, and went.
The best way is for pupils to learn preparatory books by heart, and
make drawings. In this way they will get the best idea of the vocal
organs, and learn their functions by sensation as soon as they begin
to sing. The pupil should be subjected to strict examinations.
_In what does artistic singing differ from natural singing?_
In a clear understanding of all the organs concerned in voice
production, and their functions, singly and together; in the
understanding of the sensations in singing, conscientiously studied
and scientifically explained; in a gradually cultivated power of
contracting and relaxing the muscles of the vocal organs, that power
culminating in the ability to submit them to severe exertions and keep
them under control. The prescribed tasks must be mastered so that they
can be done without exertion, with the whole heart and soul, and with
complete understanding.
How is this to be attained?
Through natural gifts, among which I reckon the possession of sound
organs and a well-favored body; through study guided by an excellent
teacher _who can sing well himself_,--study that must be kept up for
at least six years, without counting the preliminary work.
Only singers formed on such a basis, after years of work, deserve the
title of artist; only such have a right to look forward to a lasting
future, and only those equipped with such a knowledge ought to teach.
_Of what consists artistic singing?_
Of a clear understanding, first and foremost, of breathing, in and
out; of an understanding of the form through which the breath has to
flow, prepared by a proper position of the larynx, the tongue, and the
palate. Of a knowledge and understanding of the functions of the
muscles of the abdomen and diaphragm, which regulate the breath
pressure; then, of the chest-muscle tension, against which the breath
is forced, and whence, under the control of the singer, after passing
through the vocal cords, it beats against the resonating surfaces and
vibrates in the cavities of the head. Of a highly cultivated skill and
flexibility in adjusting all the vocal organs and in putting them into
minutely graduated movements, without inducing changes through the
pronunciation of words or the execution of musical figures that shall
be injurious to the tonal beauty or the artistic expression of the
song. Of an immense muscular power in the breathing apparatus and all
the vocal organs, the strengthening of which to endure sustained
exertion cannot be begun too long in advance; and the exercising of
which, as long as one sings in public, must never be remitted for a
single day.
As beauty and stability of tone do not depend upon excessive
_pressure_ of the breath, so the muscular power of the organs used in
singing does not depend on convulsive rigidity, but in that snakelike
power of contracting and loosening,[1] which a singer must consciously
have under perfect control.
[Footnote 1: In physiology when the muscles resume their normal state,
they are said to be _relaxed_. But as I wish to avoid giving a false
conception in our vocal sensations, I prefer to use the word
"loosening."]
The study needed for this occupies an entire lifetime; not only
because the singer must perfect himself more and more in the rôles of
his repertory--even after he has been performing them year in and year
out,--but because he must continually strive for progress, setting
himself tasks that require greater and greater mastery and strength,
and thereby demand fresh study.
_He who stands still, goes backward._
Nevertheless, there are fortunately gifted geniuses in whom are
already united all the qualities needed to attain greatness and
perfection, and whose circumstances in life are equally fortunate; who
can reach the goal earlier, without devoting their whole lives to it.
Thus, for instance, in Adelina Patti everything was united,--the
splendid voice, paired with great talent for singing, and the long
oversight of her studies by her distinguished teacher, Strakosch. She
never sang rôles that did not suit her voice; in her earlier years she
sang only arias and duets or single solos, never taking part in
ensembles. She never sang even her limited repertory when she was
indisposed. She never attended rehearsals, but came to the theatre in
the evening and sang triumphantly, without ever having seen the
persons who sang and acted with her. She spared herself rehearsals
which, on the day of the performance, or the day before, exhaust all
singers, because of the excitement of all kinds attending them, and
which contribute neither to the freshness of the voice nor to the joy
of the profession.
Although she was a Spaniard by birth and an American by early
adoption, she was, so to speak, the greatest Italian singer of my
time. All was absolutely good, correct, and flawless, the voice like a
bell that you seemed to hear long after its singing had ceased.
Yet she could give no explanation of her art, and answered all her
colleagues' questions concerning it with an "Ah, je n'en sais rien!"
She possessed, unconsciously, as a gift of nature, a union of all
those qualities that all other singers must attain and possess
_consciously_. Her vocal organs stood in the most favorable relations
to each other. Her talent, and her remarkably trained ear, maintained
control over the beauty of her singing and of her voice. The fortunate
circumstances of her life preserved her from all injury. The purity
and flawlessness of her tone, the beautiful equalization of her whole
voice, constituted the magic by which she held her listeners
entranced. Moreover, she was beautiful and gracious in appearance.
The accent of great dramatic power she did not possess; yet I ascribe
this more to her intellectual indolence than to her lack of ability.