a rule, slow to commit themselves to that temperamental abandon which is
essential to operatic interpretation. I am, however, glad to be able to
say without any reserve that I consider the English choruses the finest
in the world. I refer more specially to the great choirs heard at the
English musical festivals. What volume and beauty of tone, what
precision and light and shade, are embodied in their work! Personally,
if I can be said to dislike any form of music, it is oratorio; but when
I hear an English chorus at a festival in Birmingham, Leeds, Bristol, or
Worcester, I am almost persuaded to become an oratorio enthusiast.
This paper would not be complete without some reference to personal
appearance as an asset in a singer's career. There is much suggestion,
expression even, in the turn of a curl. The woman who knows how to
"make up" effectively is more of an artist than the one who does not.
The whole thing makes for artistic completeness.
I have known handsome women appear unattractive on the stage or platform
merely because they relied entirely on their natural physical gifts
without considering how these were affected by the space, and structural
and lighting conditions, of the building in which they sang. There are
cases where good looks are the main reason for the exploitation of a
singer; but such favour is bound to be short-lived, and no artistic
reputation can be long maintained on so false a basis.
As to securing an introduction to the public, I have little to say
beyond the fact that ability will surely find its way. In my own path
great obstacles were placed, but I do not think anything in this world
could have hindered me from becoming a singer. I have sung to an
audience of two, and such was my girlish enthusiasm that I have even
acted as my own billposter, with a pot of paste procured from a hotel
kitchen. The occasion was a chanty concert at an Australian seaside
resort for the purpose of repairing a neglected country cemetery. Later
I had to abandon proposed concerts because there was not enough support
to pay for the lighting of the hall. Yet I persevered, and my chance
came. It is well to aim at the highest, yet in my heart of hearts I
believe that every really great singer is born rather than made.
No teacher living can impart temperament and an infallible ear for
music. A perfect chest, larynx, and resonance chambers are also gifts
of God; and so, too, are the musical intuition, the ravishing voice, the
industry, the ambition, and the perfect physical health, which are all
attributes of vocalists who have become really great.
But below that heavenly gifted circle there are many niches which should
be filled, not by casual observers, but by qualified musicians, to whom
hard and patient work has brought attainments second only to those
fortunate creatures who have sprung into the musical arena, like
Minerva, fully equipped.
*HINTS ON THE CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE.*
*By ENRICO CARUSO.*
It has often struck me, in a lengthy experience as a singer, that there
is one point in particular about the human voice which is far too little
appreciated by the rising generation of aspiring vocalists, and that is
its wonderful reciprocity. Tend it, nurse it, "feed it on a proper
diet," and it will invariably comport itself in the most amiable manner
possible. But neglect it, treat it as an organ which is best left to
look after itself, and the voice will at once, in revenge for this
callous behaviour, retaliate by behaving itself in a manner which is
perhaps best described as of the "hooliganistic" order.
And yet, as an actual fact, but a very small percentage indeed of
would-be singers ever really seem to think it worth their while to bear
in mind this axiom, for axiom it surely is, that the voice requires
proper care and proper exercise to keep it in its best form just as much
as is a certain amount of exercise necessary to the maintenance of good
health in every human being.
Unfortunately, however, there would seem to be a prevalent impression
among many amateur and not a few professional singers that singing is an
art which can be acquired in quite a short time. Thus, is it not curious
that while many students of the piano or the violin will willingly
devote years of strenuous and conscientious practice to the study of the
technique of these instruments, would-be singers frequently seem to
expect to learn how to use their voice to the best advantage after a
period of vocal practice extending, maybe, over a year or so, but more
often even over only a few months? This policy, I need scarcely remark,
is absolutely ruinous to the future careers of young singers, for no
matter how naturally talented any individual vocalist may be, he or she
cannot possibly produce the best results as a singer unless the
particular organs brought into play in the process of singing have been
subjected to a proper and sufficiently long course of training. Since
the days of the old Italian masters there can be no shadow of doubt
that, musically, we have advanced considerably; but sometimes, when I
think of the rather slipshod methods of cultivating the voice advocated
by many so-called "professors" to-day, the thought impresses itself on
my mind that the detailed principles of the old Italian masters who,
above all other considerations, insisted on a long course of voice
training as being the only possible means to the attainment of the best
art, possessed more to recommend them than do many of the modern
"artifices" of voice-cultivation proffered by many teachers of singing
to-day.
In a short article, of course, it is obviously impossible to go in
detail into all the rules which should be observed by singers who are
prepared to undertake the task of cultivating their voices on a
conscientious and sound basis. At the same time, I hope to be able to
suggest various hints and wrinkles which should prove of real value to
aspiring singers.
In the first place, therefore, let me say at once that it is the most
fatal of all errors for a singer to make too much use of the voice, for
the muscles of the larynx are so delicate that they cannot possibly
stand the strain of the "learn-to-sing-in-a-hurry" methods of those who
hope to attain the highest point of proficiency without devoting
sufficient time to that "drudgery" which is absolutely essential to the
real and perfect cultivation of the voice.
For this all-important reason I would counsel singers to see to it at
all times that in the early days of their training they do not devote
too much time to practice. If they will take my advice, until they
become thoroughly proficient in "managing" the voice--a happy state of
affairs which can only be acquired after long practice--they will at
first never devote more than fifteen minutes a day--in the early morning
is, perhaps, the best time--to practice. I can readily realise that
this must seem a very short time to enthusiasts who are willing to give
up all their spare time to the study of voice cultivation, but it is,
nevertheless, quite long enough, for the slightest strain put upon the
voice may retard a singer's progress by months, while, on the other
hand, as I pointed out at the beginning of this article, if the singer
will only bear in mind that the voice requires the most careful
"nursing" of perhaps all the organs, and must on no account be strained,
he will soon find that, though he may not be aware of any improvement in
it, his voice is, nevertheless, slowly but surely improving and gaining
in strength through his gradually-growing knowledge of technique.
Another point in the cultivation of the voice which I often think is not
sufficiently strongly emphasised to-day is the fact that young singers
can improve their methods in the most extraordinarily rapid manner by
studying the methods of other and more experienced singers. In singing,
as in the cultivation of the other arts, in time the student will get
what he works for, but it is surely unreasonable for him to expect to
sing effectively by his own inspiration. He will be wise, therefore, to
seize every opportunity of studying as closely as possible the methods
of those who have thoroughly mastered the technique of singing. For
true art, of course, there must be more than technique, but I would
point out that in singing there is no art without sound methods of
execution, which, after all, to all intents and purposes constitute
technique. In the cultivation of expression, technique, and sympathy in
the voice, there is no better teacher than "a visit to the opera."
Still, I make no doubt that of the hundreds of aspiring singers who
visit the opera during the season but very few indeed would care to go
through the years of drudgery as conscientiously as have those who seem
to sing so easily and to combine the art of acting and singing at the
same time with equal facility. After all, the highest art lies in the
concealment of that art, and I take it that it is because a really
proficient opera singer accomplishes his performance with such apparent
ease that the difficulties of operatic singing are so little
appreciated.
Still, as I have said, I am strongly of the opinion that young singers
can learn much from studying the methods of operatic vocalists, that is
to say, when they have mastered the rudiments of voice cultivation, into
which I need not enter here, for my object is rather to show singers
various methods by which they can attain the highest art when they have
served a sufficient apprenticeship under masters whose duty it is to
teach them the elementary rules of singing.
For my own part, I find that a singer's life, with its constant
rehearsals and performances, is such a busy one that not much
opportunity is allowed him for indulging in outdoor exercise. Many
other enthusiastic singers doubtless find themselves situated in very
similar straits, not perhaps on account of their public engagements, but
through the "calls" made upon their time by business, social, or
domestic duties. In the cultivation of the voice, however, a certain
amount of exercise is essential to good health, as, by the same token,
is good health a _sine qua non_ to the attainment of the highest art in
singing. It may be of service, therefore, if I explain the rules I
observe when I find the calls upon my time too numerous to enable me to
get as much exercise as I should otherwise like.
No matter how busy I am, when I rise in the morning I invariably indulge
in a few simple physical exercises, similar in character to those I used
to practise when, as a young man, the time came for me to serve my king
and country as a _soldato_, or, if I feel that these are becoming
monotonous, for a few minutes I find practice with a pair of
dumb-bells--not too heavy, by the way--very beneficial. But save these
mild forms of relaxation I have, as a rule, to rest content with, in the
way of outdoor exercise, an occasional motor drive. Nevertheless, I
would point out that, in itself, singing, with its constant deep
inhalation, is by no means inconsiderable exercise, though, to be sure,
I am well aware that it cannot be so health-giving in its effects as
actual exercise in the open air.
Yes, past a doubt, young singers can learn much about the highest art of
the cultivation of the voice from watching the knowledge of technique of
our best operatic artists, and from observing their methods of
"managing" the voice. Still, to thoroughly grasp the progress of the
opera-singer's art, it will be necessary for students to appreciate the
fact that Italian singing has had two important culminating periods,
each of which was illustrated by a group of great singers, the first of
which was made up of pupils of Bernacchi, Pistocchi, Francesca Cuzzoni,
and other contemporary teachers. These great singers brought the art of
_bel canto_ to as near a state of perfection as has ever been known.
But one has to remember the conditions under which they sang.
Thus Victor Maurel writes:--"In the days of the schools of the art of
_bel canto_ the masters did not have to take truth for expression
(_l'expression juste_) into account, for the singer was not required to
render the sentiments of the _dramatis personae_ with verisimilitude;
all that was demanded of him was harmonious sounds, the _bel canto_."
In other words, all that the singer had to do was to sing, for the
emotions themselves had not to be portrayed, the psychical character of
the _dramatis personae_ not being taken into account.
In consequence, the perfection of the singer's voice was but slightly
interfered with, as, at most, he had little or no acting to do, a
conventional oratorical gesture or two being considered quite sufficient
for the fashion of the period. And it is scarcely necessary to remark
that the great singers of this period were skilful enough musicians to
prevent such unimportant gestures, which hardly deserve the dignity of
the name of acting, from being an obstacle to the high quality of their
singing.
In the second period of Italian singing, however, the period which
coincides with the Rossini-Donizetti-Bellini period of opera in its
heydey, the conditions, we find, were greatly altered. The music at
this time was at once more dramatic and more scenic, and although the
singing was still _bel canto_, the opera singer of the period was called
upon not only to sing well, but to sing dramatically, though it must be
said that the music itself provided larger scope for the actor's art, in
that it gave more favourable opportunity for specialising and
differentiating the emotions.
In "The Opera Past and Present" we find the following intensely
interesting allusion to these two great culminating periods of Italian
singing:--"A comparison of these two periods of Italian singing
indicates the direction matters have taken with the opera singer from
Handel's time to our own. From then to now he has had to face an
ever-increasing accumulation of untoward conditions; his professional
work has become more and more complicated. From Rossini's time down to
this the purely musical difficulties he has had to face have been
constantly on the increase--complexity of musical structure, rhythmic
complications, hazardous intonations.
"He has to fight against the more and more brilliant style of
instrumentation, often pushed to a point where the greatest stress of
vocal effort is required of him to make himself heard above the
orchestral din; more and better acting is demanded of him, he finds the
vague generalities of histrionism no longer of avail; for these must
make way for a highly specialised, real-seeming dramatic impersonation;
intellectually and physically his task has been doubled and trebled.
Above all, the sheer nervous tension of situations and music has so
increased as to make due self-control on his part less easy. The opera
singer's position to-day is verily no joke; he has to face and conquer
difficulties such as the great _bel cantists_ of the Handel period never
dreamt of."
It has ever been my contention that the conscientious artist should
carefully read and re-read the whole libretto, so as to inform himself
of the poet's purpose and meaning in the construction and development of
the plot, as well as to ever bear in mind his conception of the
composer's idea of how the poetry and the various aspects of mind of the
characters should be aptly and effectively musicked and interpreted so
as to awaken a kindred, or appreciative, feeling in the minds of his
hearers.
Besides this, the opera singer who aspires to rise to great heights must
possess a keen nervous susceptibility, for only a man or woman of high
nervous temperament can reasonably hope to succeed as a lyrico-dramatic
artist. Again, in the great operas a most severe strain is placed upon
the leading singers, for while they are portraying various
emotions---Love, Hate, Rage, or Laughter--they have, at the same time,
to watch the conductor with most minute care lest they fail in time and
rhythm.
In fine, though I think but few other than really conscientious students
of singing entirely appreciate the fact, the opera-singer of to-day is
called upon to possess a far greater knowledge of vocal technique than
was ever demanded of him before in the history of singing, as those
"good and golden days"--golden only to the moderate performer with but
little ambition--when the singer who perhaps scarcely knew more than a
few notes of music could, nevertheless, still arouse the plaudits of the
public are gone--never to return.
I hope, by the way, that it will not be thought that I have entered too
technically into the requirements demanded from an aspirant to operatic
fame to-day. I scarcely think, however, that I can have done so, for I
feel sure every really aspiring vocalist would prefer to know the exact
heights to which he must cultivate his voice either on the operatic
stage or concert platform, or even for the drawing-room, that is to say,
if he is ever to make a great name for himself in preference to resting
content to remain one of the "moderates," of which the musical
profession is altogether already too full, not because there is a lack
of singers with good voices, but largely, as I have always maintained,
because there is a far too prevalent tendency amongst singers these days
to shirk the real hard work which must be accomplished before lasting
success can be attained.
In conclusion, in order to allow singers' voices to develop in a
satisfactory manner, let me counsel them never to attempt those
selections in public the range of which taxes and strains them to the
utmost, for when a singer "exceeds" his proper range injury to the
throat is always liable to follow. Better rather, therefore, is it that
a song should be transposed to a lower key if a singer is determined to
attempt it than that the voice should be unduly taxed.
And now I will say _addio_, though I would add that it is my sincere
hope that some of the few hints I have given on the cultivation of the
voice and of the heights of excellence to which ambitious singers should
aspire may prove of real value to those with sufficient pluck to face
the task of studying the art of the cultivation of the voice in a really
conscientious manner. Hard work accomplishes wonders where the voice is
concerned. Let me, therefore, counsel singers never to despair of
attaining a state as near to perfection as possible, for it is those who
are most alive to their own imperfections who will assuredly "go
farthest" in the singing world.
*HOW TO ATTAIN SUCCESS IN SINGING.*
*By BEN DAVIES.*
To a certain extent it must be admitted at once that it is undoubtedly
true that there is no royal, infallible road to success in the
acquirement of perfect mastery over any art. At the same time, however,
I would lay particular stress on the fact that it is equally true that
there are not a few hints and wrinkles which, if studiously borne in
mind and practised, must inevitably prove of real value to all who will
apply themselves to these said words of advice in a thoroughly
whole-hearted manner.
And, in particular, this somewhat trite aphorism applies with great
force to the art of learning to sing, for the human voice, as every
conscientious student of music must be well aware, is an exceptionally
responsive organ. Neglect it, and it will assuredly "run to seed"; tend
it carefully, cultivate it in a common-sense manner, give it time to
"grow up," and it will reward you for your pains a hundredfold.
Let me, therefore, try and give a few hints based on an experience
extending over more years than I sometimes care to think about, which I
trust will prove of real value to aspiring singers. I have already said
that there is no royal road to success in the art of learning to sing,
but, nevertheless, the possessor of a moderate voice can improve his or
her voice in a most gratifying manner by studying in the right way. Bad
habits in singing are peculiarly difficult to rid oneself of; it is well
to avoid the risk of acquiring those bad habits by setting out on the
right road at once. And having started, push forward with unfailing
energy and courage.
In the first place I would counsel the ambitious singer, before
proceeding with the development of the voice to ascertain its real
character and quality. Thus, some voices, to the ear of the trained
expert, although they may be actually untrained and undeveloped,
nevertheless possess a decided and marked quality when still
uncultivated, while, on the other hand, there are other voices whose
positive nature it is far from easy to determine. I would therefore
emphasise the fact that it is not upon its range and extent that the
real character of any individual voice depends, but rather upon its
quality and timbre.
I would lay stress, too, on another point--namely, that the real power
of expression is found in the middle quality of every voice, and that it
is not force which tends to make this middle quality full and resonant,
but the cultivated ease and steadiness by which the vocal sounds are
produced and sustained. There is nothing more painful to the ear of an
expert musician than to hear a singer forcing his voice in an effort to
produce an effect of expansion and vibration. Would-be artistic singers
should thus nurse their voices with unfailing care, for ease and
steadiness are infinitely more artistic than forcing the voice.
I will not here enter into the question of what particular exercises the
student should follow in his or her early days, for such matters are too
elementary a kind and can safely be trusted to any competent teacher.
At the same time I would point out that the careful vocal student will
be wise to adopt the style of music best adapted to his or her voice,
for, obvious though this point should be, it is none the less true that
many singers overlook the fact that to give the voice an adequate chance
of developing it should be cultivated and "fed" upon the particular
style of music for which Nature would seem to have given it birth.
Again, I am taking it for granted that the singer has safely weathered
the storms inseparable from the initial or drudgery side of voice
cultivation--particular care should be exercised in the selection of
songs, for I have frequently noted that many singers who should surely
have known better, have, nevertheless, frequently failed to give their
voices a chance of showing their real merit by selecting songs utterly
unsuited to them. Thus, maybe, a male singer has gone out of his way to
select a song especially intended for a lady, while the latter has shown
a pronounced predilection for singing songs intended solely for men.
The result of such an unwise selection is surely best left to the
imagination.
And now let me say a few words about the manner in which students should
study their musical compositions. Almost every singer possibly
possesses some small peculiarity in this respect, but I think I cannot
do better than quote the system of study followed out by those two great
artists, Grisi and Mario; for, frankly, to a great extent their methods
may, among future generations, well become "standard methods."
"In studying any new composition, whether the most important opera, or
the simplest ballad, they followed a set plan. It was this: the words
were first considered, and when the intention and meaning of the text
had been clearly ascertained and fully understood, then, and not till
then, the music with which it was associated, was learnt by heart--every
salient feature and opportunity for effect being most carefully thought
over and decided upon."
"It was one of Mario's maxims, that unless a singer had all he was
singing about thoroughly in his head, as well as in his throat, he could
never do himself justice."
"'But,' he used to say, 'if you get as familiar as you should be with
your work, then, when you are in the humour, and in good voice, you can
let yourself go, with the certainty almost of producing the effect you
intend upon your audience--that is to say, if you ever have any moments
of inspiration.'"
"Whether in considering the dramatic effects to be made by 'Raoul and
Valentina,' or in taking in hand 'Good-bye, Sweetheart,' or 'The
Minstrel Boy,' the plan they followed was the same. The words were
thought of first, then the music, and, with the words and music
combined, particular attention was given to the points to be dwelt on
and made prominent. These latter were not allowed to be too frequent,
but were so chosen as to make the deepest impression."