[illustration: to miss harriette brower very sincerely enrico caruso n.y. ] vocal mastery talks with master singers and teachers comprising interviews with caruso, farrar, maurel, lehmann, and others by harriette brower author of "piano mastery, first and second series," "home-help in music study," "self-help in piano study" with twenty portraits new york frederick a. stokes company publishers , by oliver ditson company , , by the musical observer company , by frederick a. stokes company foreword it has long been a cherished desire to prepare a series of talks with famous singers, which should have an equal aim with talks with master pianists, namely, to obtain from the artists their personal ideas concerning their art and its mastery, and, when possible, some inkling as to the methods by which they themselves have arrived at the goal. there have been unexpected and untold difficulties in the way of such an undertaking. the greater the artist the more numerous the body-guard which surrounds him--or her; the more stringent the watch over the artist's time and movements. if one is able to penetrate this barrier and is permitted to see the artist, one finds usually an affable gentleman, a charming woman, with simple manners and kindly intentions. however, when one is fortunate enough to come in touch with great singers, one finds it difficult to draw from them a definite idea of the process by which they have achieved victory. a pianist can describe his manner of tone production, methods of touch, fingering, pedaling; the violinist can discourse on the bow arm, use of left hand, on staccato and pizzicati; but the singer is loath to describe his own instrument. and even if singers could analyze, the description might not fit any case but their own. for the art of singing is an individual art, the perfecting an instrument hidden from sight. each artist must achieve mastery by overcoming difficulties which beset his own personal path. despite these obstacles, every effort has been put forth to induce artists to speak from an educational standpoint. it is hoped the various hints and precepts they have given, may prove of benefit to singers and teachers. limitations of space prevent the inclusion of many other artists and teachers. harriette brower. west street, new york city. contents foreword enrico caruso ... the value of work geraldine farrar ... the will to succeed a compelling force victor maurel ... mind is everything a visit to mme. lilli lehmann amelita galli-curci ... self-teaching the great essential giuseppe de luca ... ceaseless effort necessary for artistic perfection luisa tetrazzini ... the coloratura voice antonio scotti ... training american singers for opera rosa raisa ... patience and perseverance win results louise homer ... the requirements of a musical career giovanni martinelli ... "let us have plenty of opera in america" anna case ... inspired interpretation florence easton ... problems confronting the young singer marguerite d'alvarez ... the message of the singer maria barrientos ... be your own critic claudia muzio ... a child of the opera edward johnson (edouardo di giovanni) ... the evolution of an opera star reinald werrenrath ... achieving success on the concert stage sophie braslau ... making a career in america morgan kingston ... the spiritual side of the singer's art frieda hempel ... a lesson with a prima donna with the master teachers david bispham ... the making of artist singers oscar saenger ... use of records in vocal study herbert witherspoon ... memory, imagination, analysis yeatman griffith ... causation j.h. duval ... some secrets of beautiful singing the coda ... a resumé illustrations enrico caruso _frontispiece_ geraldine farrar victor maurel amelita galli-curci giuseppe de luca luisa tetrazzini antonio scotti rosa raisa louise homer giovanni martinelli anna case florence easton marguerite d'alvarez maria barrientos claudia muzio edward johnson reinald werrenrath sophie braslau morgan kingston frieda hempel vocal mastery i =enrico caruso= the value of work enrico caruso! the very name itself calls up visions of the greatest operatic tenor of the present generation, to those who have both heard and seen him in some of his many rôles. or, to those who have only listened to his records, again visions of the wonderful voice, with its penetrating, vibrant, ringing quality, the impassioned delivery, which stamps every note he sings with the hall mark of genius, the tremendous, unforgettable climaxes. not to have heard caruso sing is to have missed something out of life; not to have seen him act in some of his best parts is to have missed the inspiration of great acting. as mr. huneker once wrote: "the artistic career of caruso is as well known as that of any great general or statesman; he is a national figure. he is a great artist, and, what is rarer, a genuine man." and how we have seen his art grow and ripen, since he first began to sing for us. the date of his first appearance at the metropolitan opera house, new york, was november rd, . then the voice was marvelous in its freshness and beauty, but histrionic development lagged far behind. the singer seemed unable to make us visualize the characters he endeavored to portray. it was always caruso who sang a certain part; we could never forget that. but constant study and experience have eliminated even this defect, so that to-day the singer and actor are justly balanced; both are superlatively great. can any one who hears and sees caruso in the rôle of samson, listen unmoved to the throbbing wail of that glorious voice and the unutterable woe of the blind man's poignant impersonation? in early days enrico caruso was born in naples, the youngest of nineteen children. his father was an engineer and the boy was taught the trade in his father's shop, and was expected to follow in his father's footsteps. but destiny decreed otherwise. as he himself said, to one listener: "i had always sung as far back as i can remember, for the pure love of it. my voice was contralto, and i sang in a church in naples from fourteen till i was eighteen. then i had to go into the army for awhile. i had never learned how to sing, for i had never been taught. one day a young officer of my company said to me: 'you will spoil your voice if you keep on singing like that'--for i suppose i was fond of shouting in those days. 'you should learn _how_ to sing,' he said to me; 'you must study.' he introduced me to a young man who at once took an interest in me and brought me to a singing master named vergine. i sang for him, but he was very discouraging. his verdict was it would be hopeless to try to make a singer out of me. as it was, i might possibly earn a few lire a night with my voice, but according to his idea i had far better stick to my father's trade, in which i could at least earn forty cents a day. "but my young friend would not give up so easily. he begged vergine to hear me again. things went a little better with me the second time and vergine consented to teach me. rigid discipline "and now began a period of rigid discipline. in vergine's idea i had been singing too loud; i must reverse this and sing everything softly. i felt as though in a strait-jacket; all my efforts at expression were most carefully repressed; i was never allowed to let out my voice. at last came a chance to try my wings in opera, at ten lire a night ($ . ). in spite of the régime of repression to which i had been subjected for the past three years, there were still a few traces of my natural feeling left. the people were kind to me and i got a few engagements. vergine had so long trained me to sing softly, never permitting me to sing out, that people began to call me the broken tenor. the first real chance "a better chance came before long. in the opera house in salerno decided to produce _i puritani_. at the last moment the tenor they had engaged to sing the leading rôle became ill, and there was no one to sing the part. lombardi, conductor of the orchestra, told the directors there was a young singer in naples, about eighteen miles away, who he knew could help them out and sing the part. when they heard the name caruso, they laughed scornfully. 'what, the broken tenor?' they asked. but lombardi pressed my claim, assured them i could be engaged, and no doubt would be glad to sing for nothing. "so i was sent for. lombardi talked with me awhile first. he explained by means of several illustrations, that i must not stand cold and stiff in the middle of the stage, while i sang nice, sweet tones. no, i must let out my voice, i must throw myself into the part, i must be alive to it--must live it and in it. in short, i must act as well as sing. a revelation "it was all like a revelation to me. i had never realized before how absolutely necessary it was to act out the character i attempted. so i sang _i puritani_, with as much success as could have been expected of a young singer with so little experience. something awoke in me at that moment. from that night i was never called a 'broken tenor' again. i made a regular engagement at two thousand lire a month. out of this i paid regularly to vergine the twenty-five per cent which he always demanded. he was somewhat reconciled to me when he saw that i had a real engagement and was making a substantial sum, though he still insisted that i would lose my voice in a few years. but time passes and i am still singing. results of the revelation "the fact that i could secure an opera engagement made me realize i had within me the making of an artist, if i would really labor for such an end. when i became thoroughly convinced of this, i was transformed from an amateur into a professional in a single day. i now began to take care of myself, learn good habits, and endeavored to cultivate my mind as well as my voice. the conviction gradually grew upon me that if i studied and worked, i would be able one day to sing in such a way as to satisfy myself." the value of work to the singer caruso believes in the necessity for work, and sends this message to all ambitious students: "to become a singer requires work, work, and again work! it need not be in any special corner of the earth; there is no one spot that will do more for you than other places. it doesn't matter so much where you are, if you have intelligence and a good ear. listen to yourself; your ear will tell you what kind of tones you are making. if you will only use your own intelligence you can correct your own faults." ceaseless study this is no idle speech, voiced to impress the reader. caruso practices what he preaches, for he is an incessant worker. two or three hours in the forenoon, and several more later in the day, whenever possible. he does not neglect daily vocal technic, scales and exercises. there are always many rôles to keep in rehearsal with the accompanist. he has a repertoire of seventy rôles, some of them learned in two languages. among the parts he has prepared but has never sung are: _othello, fra diavolo, eugen onegin, pique dame, falstaff_ and _jewels of the madonna_. besides the daily review of opera rôles, caruso examines many new songs; every day brings a generous supply. naturally some of these find their way into the waste basket; some are preserved for reference, while the favored ones which are accepted must be studied for use in recital. i had the privilege, recently, of spending a good part of one forenoon in mr. caruso's private quarters at his new york hotel, examining a whole book full of mementos of the jubilee celebration of march, , on the occasion when the great tenor completed twenty-five years of activity on the operatic stage. here were gathered telegrams and cablegrams from all over the world. many letters and cards of greeting and congratulation are preserved in this portly volume. among them one noticed messages from mme. schumann-heink, the flonzaley quartet, cleofonte campanini and hosts of others. here, too, is preserved the jubilee programme booklet, also the libretto used on that gala occasion. music lovers all over the world will echo the hope that this wonderful voice may be preserved for many years to come! a last word the above article was shown to mr. caruso, at his request, and i was asked a few days later to come to him. there had been the usual rehearsal at the opera house that day. "ah, those rehearsals," exclaimed the secretary, stopping his typewriter for an instant; "no one who has never been through it has any idea of what a rehearsal means." and he lifted hands and eyes expressively. "mr. caruso rose at eight, went to rehearsal at ten and did not finish till after three. he is now resting, but will see you in a moment." presently the great tenor opened the door and entered. he wore a lounging coat of oriental silk, red bordered, and on the left hand gleamed a wonderful ring, a broad band of dull gold, set with diamonds, rubies and sapphires. he shook hands, said he had read my story, that it was quite correct and had his entire approval. "and have you a final message to the young singers who are struggling and longing to sing some day as wonderfully as you do?" "tell them to study, to work always,--and--to sacrifice!" his eyes had a strange, inscrutable light in them, as he doubtless recalled his own early struggles, and life of constant effort. and so take his message to heart: "work, work--and--sacrifice!" ii =geraldine farrar= the will to succeed a compelling force "to measure the importance of geraldine farrar (at the metropolitan opera house, new york) one has only to think of the void there would have been during the last decade, and more, if she had not been there. try to picture the period between and without farrar--it is inconceivable! farrar, more than any other singer, has been the triumphant living symbol of the new day for the american artist at the metropolitan. she paved the way. since that night, in , when her juliette stirred the staid old house, american singers have been added year by year to the personnel. among these younger singers there are those who will admit at once that it was the success of geraldine farrar which gave them the impetus to work hard for a like success." [illustration: geraldine farrar] these thoughts have been voiced by a recent reviewer, and will find a quick response from young singers all over the country, who have been inspired by the career of this representative artist, and by the thousands who have enjoyed her singing and her many characterizations. i was present on the occasion of miss farrar's début at the greatest opera house of her home land. i, too, was thrilled by the fresh young voice in the girlish and charming impersonation of juliette. it is a matter of history that from the moment of her auspicious return to america she has been constantly before the public, from the beginning to end of each operatic season. other singers often come for part of the season, step out and make room for others. but miss farrar, as well as mr. caruso, can be depended on to remain. any one who gives the question a moment's thought, knows that such a career, carried through a score of years, means constant, unremitting labor. there must be daily work on vocal technic; repertoire must be kept up to opera pitch, and last and perhaps most important of all, new works must be sought, studied and assimilated. the singer who can accomplish these tasks will have little or no time for society and the gay world, inasmuch as her strength must be devoted to the service of her art. she must keep healthy hours, be always ready to appear, and never disappoint her audiences. and such, according to miss farrar's own words is her record in the service of art. while zealously guarding her time from interruption from the merely curious, miss farrar does not entrench herself behind insurmountable barriers, as many singers seem to do, so that no honest seeker for her views of study and achievement can find her. while making a rule not to try voices of the throng of young singers who would like to have her verdict on their ability and prospects, miss farrar is very gracious to those who really need to see her. again--unlike others--she will make an appointment a couple of weeks in advance, and one can rest assured she will keep that appointment to the day and hour, in spite of many pressing calls on her attention. to meet and talk for an hour with an artist who has so often charmed you from the other side of the footlights, is a most interesting experience. in the present instance it began with my being taken up to miss farrar's private sanctum, at the top of her new york residence. though this is her den, where she studies and works, it is a spacious parlor, where all is light, color, warmth and above all, _quiet_. a thick crimson carpet hushes the footfall. a luxurious couch piled with silken cushions, and comfortable arm chairs are all in the same warm tint; over the grand piano is thrown a cover of red velvet, gold embroidered. portraits of artists and many costly trifles are scattered here and there. the young lady who acts as secretary happened to be in the room and spoke with enthusiasm of the singer's absorption in her work, her delight in it, her never failing energy and good spirits. "from the day i heard miss farrar sing i felt drawn to her and hoped the time would come when i could serve her in some way. i did not know then that it would be in this way. her example is an inspiration to all who come in touch with her." in a few moments miss farrar herself appeared, and the young girl withdrew. and was this farrar who stood before me, in the flush of vigorous womanhood, and who welcomed me so graciously? the first impression was one of friendliness and sincerity, which caused the artist for the moment to be forgotten in the unaffected simplicity of the woman. miss farrar settled herself comfortably among the red silk cushions and was ready for our talk. the simplicity of manner was reflected in her words. she did not imply--there is only one right way, and i have found it. "these things seem best for my voice, and this is the way i work. but, since each voice is different, they might not fit any one else. i have no desire to lay down rules for others; i can only speak of my own experience." the question of health "and you would first know how i keep strong and well and always ready? perhaps the answer is, i keep regular hours and habits, and love my work. i have always loved to sing, as far back as i can remember. music means everything to me--it is my life. as a child and young girl, i was the despair of my playmates because i would not join their games; i did not care to skate, play croquet or tennis, or such things. i never wanted to exercise violently, and, to me, unnecessarily, because it interfered with my singing; took energy which i thought might be better applied. as i grew older i did not care to keep late hours and be in an atmosphere where people smoked and perhaps drank, for these things were bad for my voice and i could not do my work next day. my time is always regularly laid out. i rise at half past seven, and am ready to work at nine. i do not care to sit up late at night, either, for i think late hours react on the voice. occasionally, if we have a few guests for dinner, i ask them, when ten thirty arrives, to stay as long as they wish and enjoy themselves, but i retire. technical study "there are gifted people who may be called natural born singers. melba is one of these. such singers do not require much technical practice, or if they need a little of it, half an hour a day is sufficient. i am not one of those who do not need to practice. i give between one and two hours daily to vocalizes, scales and tone study. but i love it! a scale is beautiful to me, if it is rightly sung. in fact it is not merely a succession of notes; it represents color. i always translate sound into color. it is a fascinating study to make different qualities of tonal color in the voice. certain rôles require an entirely different range of colors from others. one night i must sing a part with thick, heavy, rich tones; the next night my tones must be thinned out in quite another timbre of the voice, to fit an opposite character." asked if she can hear herself, miss farrar answered: "no, i do not actually hear my voice, except in a general way; but we learn to know the sensations produced in muscles of throat, head, face, lips and other parts of the anatomy, which vibrate in a certain manner to correct tone production. we learn the _feeling_ of the tone. therefore every one, no matter how advanced, requires expert advice as to the results. with lehmann "i have studied for a long time with lilli lehmann in berlin; in fact i might say she is almost my only teacher, though i did have some instruction before going to her, both in america and paris. you see, i always sang, even as a very little girl. my mother has excellent taste and knowledge in music, and finding i was in danger of straining my voice through singing with those older than myself, she placed me with a vocal teacher when i was twelve, as a means of preservation. "lehmann is a wonderful teacher and an extraordinary woman as well. what art is there--what knowledge and understanding! what intensity there is in everything she does. she used to say: 'remember, these four walls which inclose you, make a very different space to fill compared to an opera house; you must take this fact into consideration and study accordingly.' no one ever said a truer word. if one only studies or sings in a room or studio, one has no idea of what it means to fill a theater. it is a distinct branch of one's work to gain power and control and to adapt one's self to large spaces. one can only learn this by doing it. "it is sometimes remarked by listeners at the opera, that we sing too loud, or that we scream. they surely never think of the great size of the stage, of the distance from the proscenium arch to the footlights, or from the arch to the first set of wings. they do not consider that within recent years the size of the orchestra has been largely increased, so that we are obliged to sing against this great number of instruments, which are making every possible kind of a noise except that of a siren. it is no wonder that we must make much effort to be heard: sometimes the effort may seem injudicious. the point we must consider is to make the greatest possible effect with the least possible exertion. "lehmann is the most painstaking, devoted teacher a young singer can have. it is proof of her excellent method and her perfect understanding of vocal mastery, that she is still able to sing in public, if not with her old-time power, yet with good tone quality. it shows what an artist she really is. i always went over to her every summer, until the war came. we would work together at her villa in gruenewald, which you yourself know. or we would go for a holiday down nearer salzburg, and would work there. we always worked wherever we were. memorizing "how do i memorize? i play the song or rôle through a number of times, concentrating on both words and music at once. i am a pianist anyway; and committing to memory is very easy for me. i was trained to learn by heart from the very start. when i sang my little songs at six years old, mother would never let me have any music before me: i must know my songs by heart. and so i learned them quite naturally. to me singing was like talking to people. contrasting coloratura and dramatic singing "you ask me to explain the difference between the coloratura and the dramatic organ. i should say it is a difference of timbre. the coloratura voice is bright and brilliant in its higher portion, but becomes weaker and thinner as it descends; whereas the dramatic voice has a thicker, richer quality all through, especially in its lower register. the coloratura voice will sing upper c, and it will sound very high indeed. i might sing the same tone, but it would sound like a flat, because the tone would be of such totally different timbre. to the young singer "if i have any message to the young singer, it would be: stick to your work and study systematically, whole-heartedly. if you do not love your work enough to give it your best thought, to make sacrifices for it, there is something wrong with you. then choose some other line of work, to which you can give undivided attention and devotion. for music requires this. as for sacrifices, they really do not exist, if they promote the thing you honestly love most. "do not fancy you can properly prepare yourself in a short time to undertake a musical career, for the path is a long and arduous one. you must never stop studying, for there is always so much to learn. if i have sung a rôle a hundred times, i always find places that can be improved; indeed i never sing a rôle twice exactly in the same way. so, from whatever side you consider the singer's work and career, both are of absorbing interest. "another thing; do not worry, for that is bad for your voice. if you have not made this tone correctly, or sung that phrase to suit yourself, pass it over for the moment with a wave of the hand or a smile; but don't become discouraged. go right on! i knew a beautiful american in paris who possessed a lovely voice. but she had a very sensitive nature, which could not endure hard knocks. she began to worry over little failures and disappointments, with the result that in three years her voice was quite gone. we must not give way to disappointments, but conquer them, and keep right along the path we have started on. modern music "modern music requires quite a different handling of the voice and makes entirely different demands upon it than does the older music. the old italian operas required little or no action, only beautiful singing. the opera houses were smaller and so were the orchestras. the singer could stand still in the middle of the stage and pour out beautiful tones, with few movements of body to mar his serenity. but we, in these days, demand action as well as song. we need singing actors and actresses. the music is declamatory; the singer must throw his whole soul into his part, must act as well as sing. things are all on a larger scale. it is a far greater strain on the voice to interpret one of the modern italian operas than to sing one of those quietly beautiful works of the old school. "america's growth in music has been marvelous on the appreciative and interpretive side. with such a musical awakening, we can look forward to the appearance of great creative genius right here in this country, perhaps in the near future. why should we not expect it? we have not yet produced a composer who can write enduring operas or symphonies. macdowell is our highest type as yet; but others will come who will carry the standard higher. voice limitations "the singer must be willing to admit limitations of voice and style and not attempt parts which do not come within the compass of her attainments. neither is it wise to force the voice up or down when it seems a great effort to do so. we can all think of singers whose natural quality is mezzo--let us say--who try to force the voice up into a higher register. there is one artist of great dramatic gifts, who not content with the rich quality of her natural organ, tried to add several high notes to the upper portion. the result was disastrous. again, some of our young singers who possess beautiful, sweet voices, should not force them to the utmost limit of power, simply to fill, or try to fill a great space. the life of the voice will be impaired by such injurious practice. vocal mastery "what do i understand by vocal mastery? it is something very difficult to define. for a thing that is mastered must be really perfect. to master vocal art, the singer must have so developed his voice that it is under complete control; then he can do with it whatsoever he wishes. he must be able to produce all he desires of power, pianissimo, accent, shading, delicacy and variety of color. who is equal to the task?" miss farrar was silent a moment; then she said, answering her own question: "i can think of but two people who honestly can be said to possess vocal mastery: they are caruso and mccormack. those who have only heard the latter do little irish tunes, have no idea of what he is capable. i have heard him sing mozart as no one else i know of can. these two artists have, through ceaseless application, won vocal mastery. it is something we are all striving for!" iii =victor maurel= mind is everything mr. james huneker, in one of his series of articles entitled "with the immortals," in the new york _world_, thus, in his inimitable way characterizes victor maurel: "i don't suppose there is to be found in musical annals such diversity of aptitudes as that displayed by this french baritone. is there an actor on any stage to-day who can portray both the grossness of falstaff and the subtlety of iago? making allowance for the different art medium that the singing actor must work in, and despite the larger curves of operatic pose and gesture, maurel kept astonishingly near to the characters he assumed. he was shakespearian; his falstaff was the most wonderful i ever saw." [illustration: victor maurel] and then iago: "in the maurel conception, othello's ancient was not painted black in black--the heart of darkness, but with many nuances, many gradations. he was economical of gesture, playing on the jealous moor as plays a skillfully handled bow upon a finely attuned violin. his was truly an objective characterization. his don giovanni was broadly designed. he was the aristocrat to the life, courtly, brave, amorous, intriguing, cruel, superstitious and quick to take offense. in his best estate, the drinking song was sheer virtuosity. suffice to add that verdi intrusted to him the task of "originating" two such widely sundered rôles as iago and falstaff. an extraordinary artist!" one evening we were discussing the merits of various famous singers of the past and present. my friend is an authority whose opinion i greatly respect. he is not only a singer himself but is rapidly becoming a singing master of renown. after we had conferred for a long time, my friend summed it all up with the remark: "you know who, in my opinion, is the greatest, the dean of them all, a past master of the art of song--victor maurel." did i not know! in times gone by had we not discussed by the hour every phase of maurel's mastery of voice and action? did we not together listen to that voice and watch with breathless interest his investiture of don giovanni, in the golden days when lilli lehmann and the de reszkes took the other parts. was there ever a more elegant courtly don, a greater falstaff, a more intriguing iago? in those youthful days, my friend's greatest ambition was to be able to sing and act like maurel. to this end he labored unceasingly. second only to this aim was another--to know the great baritone personally, to become his friend, to discuss the finest issues of art with him, to consult him and have the benefit of his experience. the consummation of this desire has been delayed for years, but it is one of the "all things" which will surely come to him who waits. maurel is now once more on american soil, and doubtless intends remaining for a considerable period. my friend is also established in the metropolis. the two have met, not only once but many times--indeed they have become fast friends. "i will take you to him," promised friend jacque,--knowing my desire to meet the "grand old man"; "but don't ask for too many of his opinions about singers, as he does not care to be quoted." late one afternoon we arrived at his residence. at the moment he was in his music room, where, for the last hour he had been singing _falstaff_! if we could only have been hidden away in some quiet corner to listen! he came running down the stairway with almost the agility of a boy, coming to meet us with simple dignity and courtesy. after the first greetings were over we begged permission to examine the many paintings which met the eye everywhere. there was a large panel facing us, representing a tall transparent vase, holding a careless bunch of summer flowers, very artistically handled. near it hung an out-of-door sketch, a garden path leading into the green. other bits of landscape still-life and portraits made up the collection. they had all been painted by the same artist--none other than maurel himself. as we examined the flower panel, he came and stood by us. "painting is a great art," he said; "an art which requires profound study. i have been a close student of this art for many years and love it more and more." "m. maurel aims now to express himself through the art of color and form, as he has always done through voice and gesture," remarked my friend. "art is the highest means of expression," went on the master, "whether through music, painting, sculpture, architecture or the theater. the effort to express myself through another art-medium, painting, has long been a joy to me. i have studied with no teacher but myself, but i have learned from all the great masters; they have taught me everything." he then led the way to his music room on the floor above. here were more paintings, many rare pieces of furniture and his piano. a fine portrait of verdi, with an affectionate autograph, stood on a table; one of ambroise thomas, likewise inscribed, hung near. "a serious man, almost austere," said maurel, regarding the portrait of verdi thoughtfully, "but one of the greatest masters of all time." praying us to be seated, he placed himself on an ottoman before us. the talk easily drifted into the subject of the modern operatic stage, and modern operas of the italian school, in which one is so often tempted to shout rather than sing. the hero of mozart's don giovanni, who could sing his music as perhaps no one else has ever done, would not be likely to have much patience with the modern style of explosive vocal utterance. "how do you preserve your voice and your repertoire?" i questioned. m. maurel gazed before him thoughtfully. "it is entirely through the mind that i keep both. i know so exactly how to produce tone qualities, that if i recall those sensations which accompany tone production, i can induce them at will. how do we make tones, sing an aria, impersonate a rôle? is not all done with the mind, with thought? i must think the tone before i produce it--before i sing it; i must mentally visualize the character and determine how i will represent it, before i attempt it. i must identify myself with the character i am to portray before i can make it _live_. does not then all come from thinking--from thought? "again: i can think out the character and make a mental picture of it for myself, but how shall i project it for others to see? i have to convince myself first that i am that character--i must identify myself with it; then i must convince those who hear me that i am really that character." maurel rose and moved to the center of the room. "i am to represent some character--amonasro, let us say. i must present the captive king, bound with chains and brought before his captors. i must feel with him, if i am really going to represent him. i must believe myself bound and a prisoner; then i must, through pose and action, through expression of face, gesture, voice, everything--i must make this character real to the audience." and as we looked, he assumed the pose of the man in chains, his hands seemed tied, his body bent, his expression one in which anger and revenge mingled; in effect, he was for the moment amonasro. "i have only made you see my mental concept of amonasro. if i have once thoroughly worked out a conception, made it my own, then it is mine. i can create it at any moment. if i feel well and strong i can sing the part now in the same way as i have always sung it, because my thought is the same and thought produces. whether i have a little more voice, or less voice, what does it matter? i can never lose my conception of a character, for it is in my mind, and mind projects it. so there is no reason to lose the voice, for that also is in mind and can be thought out at will. "suppose i have an opposite character to portray,--the elegant don giovanni, for example"; and drawing himself up and wrapping an imaginary cloak about him, with the old well-remembered courtly gesture, his face and manner were instantly transformed at the thought of his favorite character. he turned and smiled on us, his strong features lighted, and his whole appearance expressed the embodiment of mozart's hero. "you see i must have lived, so to say, in these characters and made them my own, or i could not recall them at a moment's notice. all impersonation, to be artistic, to be vital, must be a part of one's self; one must get into the character. when i sing iago i am no longer myself--i am another person altogether; self is quite forgotten; i am iago, for the time being. "in paris, at the sorbonne, i gave a series of lectures; the first was on this very subject, the identification of one's self with the character to be portrayed. the large audience of about fifteen hundred, contained some of the most famous among artists and men of letters"; and maurel, with hands clasped about his knee, gazed before him into space, and we knew he was picturing in mental vision, the scene at the sorbonne, which he had just recalled. after a moment, he resumed. "the singer, though trying to act out the character he assumes, must not forget to _sing_. the combination of fine singing and fine acting is rare. nowadays people think if they can act, that atones for inartistic singing; then they yield to the temptation to shout, to make harsh tones, simply for effect." and the famous baritone caricatured some of the sounds he had recently heard at an operatic performance with such gusto, that a member of the household came running in from an adjoining room, thinking there must have been an accident and the master of the house was calling for help. he hastily assured her all was well--no one was hurt; then we all had a hearty laugh over the little incident. and now we begged to be allowed to visit the atelier, where the versatile artist worked out his pictures. he protested that it was in disorder, that he would not dare to take us up, and so on. after a little he yielded to persuasion, saying, however, he would go up first and arrange the room a little. as soon as he had left us my friend turned to me: "what a remarkable man! so strong and vigorous, in spite of his advanced age. no doubt he travels those stairs twenty times a day. he is as alert as a young man; doubtless he still has his voice, as he says. and what a career he has had. you know he was a friend of edward the seventh; they once lived together. then he and verdi were close friends; he helped coach singers for verdi's operas. he says it was a wonderful experience, when the composer sat down at the piano, put his hands on the keys and showed the singers how he wanted his music sung! "early in his career maurel sang in verdi's opera, _simone boccanegra_, which one never hears now, but it has a fine baritone part, and a couple of very dramatic scenes, especially the final scene at the close. this is the death scene. maurel had sung and acted so wonderfully on a certain occasion that all the singers about him were in tears. verdi was present at this performance and was deeply moved by maurel's singing and acting. he came upon the stage when all was over, and exclaimed, in a voice trembling with emotion: 'you have created the rôle just as i would have it; i shall write an opera especially _for you_!' this he did; it was _othello_, and the iago was composed for maurel. in his later years, when he seldom left his home, the aged composer several times expressed the wish that he might go to paris, just to hear maurel sing once more. "it is very interesting that he was led to speak to us as he did just now, about mental control, and the part played by mind in the singer's study, equipment and career. it is a side of the question which every young singer must seriously consider, first, last and always. but here he comes." again protesting about the appearance of his simple studio, the master led the way up the stairways till we reached the top of the house, where a north-lighted room had been turned into a painter's atelier. with mingled feelings we stepped within this modest den of a great artist, which held his treasures. these were never shown to the casual observer, nor to the merely curious; they were reserved for the trusted few. the walls were lined with sketches; heads, still life, landscapes, all subjects alike interested the painter. a rugged bust of verdi, over life size, modeled in plaster, stood in one corner. on an easel rested a spirited portrait of maurel, done by himself. "my friends tell me i should have a larger studio, with better light; but i am content with this, for here is quiet and here i can be alone, free to commune with myself. here i can study my art undisturbed,--for art is my religion. if people ask if i go to church, i say no, but i worship the immortality which is within, which i feel in my soul, the reflection of the almighty!" in quiet mood a little later we descended the white stairway and passed along the corridors of this house, which looks so foreign to american eyes, and has the atmosphere of a paris home. the artist accompanied us to the street door and bade us farewell, in his kindly dignified manner. as the door closed and we were in the street, my friend said: "a wonderful man and a rare artist. where shall we find his like to-day?" iv a visit to mme. lilli lehmann a number of years before the great war, a party of us were spending a few weeks in berlin. it was midsummer; the city, filled as it was for one of us at least, with dear memories of student days, was in most alluring mood. flowers bloomed along every balcony, vines festooned themselves from windows and doorways, as well as from many unexpected corners. the parks, large and small, which are the delight of a great city, were at their best and greenest--gay with color. many profitable hours were spent wandering through the galleries and museums, hearing concerts and opera, and visiting the old quarters of the city, so picturesque and full of memories. two of us, who were musicians, were anxious to meet the famous dramatic soprano, lilli lehmann, who was living quietly in one of the suburbs of the city. notes were exchanged, and on a certain day we were bidden to come, out of the regular hours for visitors, by "special exception." how well i remember the drive through the newer residential section of berlin. the path before long led us through country estates, past beautifully kept gardens and orchards. our destination was the little suburb of gruenewald, itself like a big garden, with villas nestling close to each other, usually set back from the quiet, shaded streets. some of the villas had iron gratings along the pathway, through which one saw gay flowers and garden walks, often statuary and fountains. other homes were secluded from the street by high brick walls, frequently decorated on top by urns holding flowers and drooping vines. behind such a picturesque barrier, we found the gateway which led to mme. lehmann's cottage. we rang and soon a trim maid came to undo the iron gate. the few steps leading to the house door did not face us as we entered the inclosure, but led up from the side. we wanted to linger and admire the shrubs and flowering plants, but the maid hastened before us so we had to follow. from the wide entrance hall doors led into rooms on either hand. we were shown into a salon on the left, and bidden to await madame's coming. in the few moments of restful quiet before she entered, we had time to glance over this sanctum of a great artist. to say it was filled with mementos and _objets d'art_ hardly expresses the sense of repleteness. every square foot was occupied by some treasure. let the eye travel around the room. at the left, as one entered the doorway, stood a fine bust of the artist, chiseled in pure white marble, supported on a pedestal of black marble. then came three long, french windows, opening into a green garden. across the farther window stood a grand piano, loaded with music. at the further end of the room, if memory serves, hung a large, full length portrait of the artist herself. a writing desk, laden with souvenirs, stood near. on the opposite side a divan covered with rich brocade; more paintings on the walls, one very large landscape by a celebrated german painter. before we could note further details, mme. lehmann stood in the doorway, then came forward and greeted us cordially. how often i had seen her impersonate her great rôles, both in germany and america. they were always of some queenly character. could it be possible this was the famous lehmann, this simple housewife, in black skirt and white blouse, with a little apron as badge of home keeping. but there was the stately tread, the grand manner, the graceful movement. what mattered if the silver hair were drawn back severely from the face; there was the dignity of expression, classic features, penetrating glance and mobile mouth i remembered. after chatting a short time and asking many questions about america, where her experiences had been so pleasant, our talk was interrupted, for a little, by a voice trial, which madame had agreed to give. many young singers, from everywhere, were anxious to have expert judgment on their progress or attainments, so lehmann was often appealed to and gave frequent auditions of this kind. the fee was considerable, but she never kept a penny of it for herself; it all went to one of her favorite charities. the young girl who on this day presented herself for the ordeal was an american, who, it seemed, had not carried her studies very far. examining a pupil mme. lehmann seated herself at the piano and asked for scales and vocalizes. the young girl, either from fright or poor training, did not make a very fortunate impression. she could not seem to bring out a single pure steady tone, much less sing scales acceptably. madame with a resigned look finally asked for a song, which was given. it was a little song of franz, i remember. then lehmann wheeled around on the stool and said to us, in german: "the girl cannot sing--she has little or no voice to begin with, and has not been rightly trained." then to the young girl she said, kindly, in english: "my dear young lady, you have almost everything to learn about singing, for as yet you cannot even sing one tone correctly; you cannot even speak correctly. first of all you need physical development; you must broaden your chest through breathing exercises; you are too thin chested. you must become physically stronger if you ever hope to sing acceptably. then you must study diction and languages. this is absolutely necessary for the singer. above all you must know how to pronounce and sing in your own language. so many do not think it necessary to study their own language; they think they know that already; but one's mother tongue requires study as well as any other language. "the trouble with american girls is they are always in a hurry. they are not content to sit down quietly and study till they have developed themselves into something before they ever think of coming to europe. they think if they can just come over here and sing for an artist, that fact alone will give them prestige in america. but that gives them quite the opposite reputation over here. american girls are too often looked upon as superficial, because they come over here quite unprepared. i say to all of them, as i say to you: go home and study; there are plenty of good teachers of voice and piano in your own land. then, when you can _sing_, come over here, if you wish; but do not come until you are prepared." after this little episode, we continued our talk for a while longer. then, fearing to trespass on her time, we rose to leave. she came to the door with us, followed us down the steps into the front garden, and held the gate open for us, when we finally left. we had already expressed the hope that she might be able to return to america, at no very distant day, and repeat her former triumphs there. her fine face lighted at the thought, and her last words to us were, as she held open the little iron wicket. "i have a great desire to go to your country again; perhaps, in a year or two--who knows--i may be able to do it." she stood there, a noble, commanding figure, framed in the green of her garden, and waved her handkerchief, till our cab turned a corner, and she was lost to our view. the mozart festival several years later, a year before the world war started, to be exact, we had the pleasure of meeting the artist again, and this time, of hearing her sing. it was the occasion of the mozart festival in salzburg. it is well known that lehmann, devoted as she has always been to the genius of mozart, and one of the greatest interpreters of his music, had thrown her whole energy into the founding of a suitable memorial to the master in his native city. this memorial was to consist of a large music school, a concert hall and home for opera. the mozarteum was not yet completed, but a festival was held each year in salzburg, to aid the project. madame lehmann was always present and sang on these occasions. we timed our visit to mozart's birthplace, so that we should be able to attend the festival, which lasted as usual five days. the concerts were held in the aula academica, a fine saal in the old picturesque quarter of the city. at the opening concert, lehmann sang a long, difficult concert aria of mozart. we could not help wondering, before she began, how time had treated this great organ; whether we should be able to recognize the famous lehmann who had formerly taken such high rank as singer and interpreter in america. we need not have feared that the voice had become impaired. or, if it had been, it had become rejuvenated on this occasion. mme. lehmann sang with all her well-remembered power and fervor, all her exaltation of spirit, and of course she had a great ovation at the close. she looked like a queen in ivory satin and rare old lace, with jewels on neck, arms and in her silver hair. in the auditorium, three arm chairs had been placed in front of the platform. the arch-duke, prince eugen, the royal patron of the festival, occupied one. when madame lehmann had finished her aria, she stepped down from the platform. the prince rose at once and went to meet her. she gave him her hand with a graceful curtesy and he led her to the armchair next his own, which had evidently been placed in position for her special use. at the close of the concert we had a brief chat with her. the next day she was present at the morning concert. this time she was gowned in black, with an ermine cape thrown over her shoulders. the arch-duke sat beside her in the arm chair, as he had done the evening before. we had a bow and smile as she passed down the aisle. we trust the mozarteum in salzburg, for which mme. lehmann has labored with such devotion, will one day fulfill its noble mission. lehmann the teacher as a teacher of the art of singing madame lehmann has long been a recognized authority, and many artists now actively before the public, have come from under her capable hands. her book, "how to sing,"--rendered in english by richard aldrich--(macmillan) has illumined the path, for many a serious student who seeks light on that strange, wonderful, hidden instrument--the voice. madame lehmann, by means of many explanations and numerous plates, endeavors to make clear to the young student how to begin and how to proceed in her vocal studies. breathing on the important subject of breathing she says: "no one can sing without preparing for it mentally and physically. it is not enough to sing well, one must know how one does it. i practice many breathing exercises without using tone. breath becomes voice through effort of will and by use of vocal organs. when singing emit the smallest quantity of breath. vocal chords are breath regulators; relieve them of all overwork. "at the start a young voice should be taught to begin in the middle and work both ways--that is, up and down. a tone should never be forced. begin piano, make a long crescendo and return to piano. another exercise employs two connecting half tones, using one or two vowels. during practice stand before a mirror, that one may see what one is doing. practice about one hour daily. better that amount each day than ten hours one day and none the next. the test will be; do you feel rested and ready for work each morning? if not you have done too much the day before." registers in regard to registers madame lehmann has this to say: "in the formation of the voice no registers should exist or be created. as long as the word is kept in use, registers will not disappear." physiology in spite of the fact there are many drawings and plates illustrating the various organs of head and throat which are used in singing, madame lehmann says: "the singer is often worried about questions of physiology, whereas she need--must--know little about it. the nasal quality "the singer must have some nasal quality, otherwise the voice sounds colorless and expressionless. we must sing toward the nose: (not necessarily through the nose). "for many ills of the voice and tone production, i use long, slow scales. they are an infallible cure. use of the lips "the lips play a large part in producing variety of tone quality. each vowel, every word can be colored, as by magic, by well controlled play of the lips. when lips are stiff and unresponsive, the singing is colorless. lips are final resonators, through which tones must pass, and lip movements can be varied in every conceivable manner." power and velocity she humorously writes: "singers without power and velocity are like horses without tails. for velocity, practice figures of five, six, seven and eight notes, first slowly, then faster and faster, up and down." v =amelita galli-curci= self-teaching the great essential no singer can rise to any distinction without the severest kind of self-discipline and hard work. this is the testimony of all the great vocalists of our time--of any time. this is the message they send back from the mountain top of victory to the younger ones who are striving to acquire the mastery they have achieved. work, work and again--work! and if you have gained even a slight foothold on the hill of fame, then work to keep your place. above all, be not satisfied with your present progress,--strive for more perfection. there are heights you have not gained--higher up! there are joys for you--higher up, if you will but labor to reach them. [illustration: _photo by de strelecki, n.y._ amelita galli-curci] perhaps there is no singer who more thoroughly believes in the gospel of work, and surely not one who more consistently practices what she preaches, than amelita galli-curci. she knows the value of work, and she loves it for its own sake. there is no long cessation for her, during summer months, "to rest her voice." there is no half-day seclusion after a performance, to recover from the fatigue of singing a rôle the night before. no, for her this event does not spell exhaustion but happiness, exhilaration. it is a pleasure to sing because it is not wearisome--it is a part of herself. and she enjoys the doing! thus it happens that the morning after a performance, she is up and abroad betimes, ready to attend personally to the many calls upon her time and attention. she can use her speaking voice without fear, because she has never done anything to strain it; she is usually strong and well, buoyant and bright. those soft, dark eyes are wells of intelligent thinking; the mouth smiles engagingly as she speaks; the slight figure is full of life and energy. yet there is a deep sense of calm in her presence. a brave, bright spirit; a great, wonderful artist! these thoughts faintly glimpse my first impression of mme. galli-curci, as she entered her big, sunny parlor, where i was waiting to see her. her delicate, oval face was aglow with the flush of healthful exercise, for she had just come in from a shopping expedition and the wintry air was keen. "i love to go shopping," she explained, "so i always do it myself." she bade me sit beside her on a comfortable divan, and at once began to speak of the things i most wished to hear. "i am often asked," she began, "to describe how i create this or that effect, how i produce such and such tones, how i make the voice float to the farthest corner, and so on. i answer, that is my secret. in reality it is no secret at all, at least not to any one who has solved the problem. any one possessing a voice and intelligence, can acquire these things, who knows how to go to work to get them. but if one has no notion of the process, no amount of mere talking will make it plain. singing an opera rôle seems such an easy thing from the other side of the footlights. people seem to think, if you only know how to sing, it is perfectly natural and easy for you to impersonate a great lyric rôle. and the more mastery you have, the easier they think it is to do it. the real truth of the matter is that it requires years and years of study--constant study, to learn how to sing, before attempting a big part in opera. "there are so many organs of the body that are concerned in the process of breathing and tone production; and most of these organs must be, if not always, yet much of the time, relaxed and in an easy pliable condition when you sing. there is the diaphragm--then the throat, larynx, the lungs, nose, lips--all of them help to make the tone. perhaps i might say the larynx is the most important factor of all. if you can manage that, you have the secret. but no human being can tell you exactly how to do it. some singers before the public to-day have no notion of how to manage this portion of their anatomy. others may do so occasionally, but it may only be by accident. they sometimes stumble upon the principle, but not understanding how they did so, they cannot reproduce the desired effects at will. the singer who understands her business must know just how she produces tones and vocal effects. she can then do them at all times, under adverse circumstances, even when nervous, or not in the mood, or indisposed. self-study "how did i learn to know these things? by constant study, by constant listening--for i have very keen ears--by learning the sensations produced in throat and larynx when i made tones that were correctly placed, were pleasing and at the same time made the effects i was seeking. "milan is my home city--beautiful milano under the blue italian skies, the bluest in the world. as a young girl, the daughter of well-to-do parents, i studied piano at the royal conservatory there, and also musical theory and counterpoint. i shall ever be grateful i started in this way, with a thorough musical foundation, for it has always been of great advantage to me in further study. when my father met with reverses, i made good use of my pianistic training by giving piano lessons and making a very fair income for a young girl. "but i longed to sing! is it not the birthright of every italian to have a voice? i began to realize i had a voice which might be cultivated. i had always sung a little--every one does; song is the natural, spontaneous expression of our people. but i wished to do more--to express myself in song. so i began to teach myself by singing scales and vocalizes between my piano lessons. meanwhile i studied all the books on singing i could lay hands on, and then tried to put the principles i learned in this way in practice. in trying to do this i had to find out everything for myself. and that is why i know them! i know exactly what i am about when i sing, i know what muscles are being used, and in what condition they ought to be; what parts of the anatomy are called into action and why. nature has given me two great gifts, a voice and good health; for both these gifts i am deeply grateful. the first i have developed through arduous toil; the second i endeavor to preserve through careful living, regular hours and plenty of exercise in the fresh air. i have developed the voice and trained it in the way that seemed to me best for it. there are as many kinds of voices as there are persons; it seems to me each voice should be treated in the way best suited to its possessor. how can any other person tell you how that should be done?" and the singer gave me a bright look, and made a pretty deprecating gesture. "you yourself must have the intelligence to understand your own case and learn how to treat it. never strain the voice "a singer who would keep her voice in the best condition, should constantly and reasonably exercise it. i always do a half hour or so of exercises, vocalizes and scales every morning; these are never neglected. but i never do anything to strain the voice in any way. we are told many fallacies by vocal teachers. one is that the diaphragm must be held firmly in order to give support to the tone. it seems to me this is a serious mistake. i keep the diaphragm relaxed. thus tone production, in my case, is made at all times with ease; there is never any strain. you ask if it is not very fatiguing to sing against a large orchestra, as we have to, and with a temperamental conductor, like marinuzzi, for instance, i do not find it so; there is a pure, clear tone, which by its quality, placement and ease of production, will carry farther than mere power ever can. it can be heard above a great orchestra, and it _gets over_. use of the vowels "young singers ask me what vowels to use in vocal practice. in my own study i use them all. of course some are more valuable than others. the o is good, the e needs great care; the ah is the most difficult of all. i am aware this is contrary to the general idea. but i maintain that the ah is most difficult; for if you overdo it and the lips are too wide apart, the result is a white tone. and on the other hand, if the lips are nearer--or too near together, or are not managed rightly, stiffness or a throaty quality is apt to result; then the tone cannot 'float.' i have found the best way is to use the mixed vowels, one melting into the other. the tone can be started with each vowel in turn, and then mingled with the rest of the vowels. do you know, the feathered songster i love best--the nightingale--uses the mixed vowels too. ah, how much i have learned from him and from other birds also! some of them have harsh tones--real quacks--because they open their bills too far, or in a special way. but the nightingale has such a lovely dark tone, a 'covered tone,' which goes to the heart. it has the most exquisite quality in the world. i have learned much from the birds, about what not to do and what to do. memorizing "in taking up a new rôle i begin with the story, the libretto, so i may first learn what it is about, its meaning and psychology. i take it to bed with me, or have it by me if lying down, because i understand musical composition and can get a clear idea of the composer's meaning without going to the instrument. after a short time i begin to work it out at the piano, in detail, words and music together. for a great rôle like the _somnambula_ or _traviata_, i must spend three or four years, perhaps more, in preparation, before bringing it to public performance. it takes a long time to master thoroughly an operatic rôle, to work it out from all sides, the singing, the acting, the characterization. to the lay mind, if you can sing, you can easily act a part and also memorize it. they little know the labor which must be bestowed on that same rôle before it can be presented in such a shape as to be adequate, in a way that will get it across. it does not go in a few weeks or even months; it is the work of years. and even then it is never really finished, for it can always be improved with more study, with more care and thought. the necessity for languages "we hear much about need for study of languages by the singer, and indeed too much stress cannot be placed on this branch of the work. i realize that in america it is perhaps more difficult to impress people with this necessity, as they have not the same need to use other languages in every day life. the singer can always be considered fortunate who has been brought up from earliest years to more than one language. my mother was spanish, my father italian, so this gave me both languages at home. then in school i learned french, german and english, not only a little smattering of each, but how to write and speak them." "you certainly have mastered english remarkably well," i could not help remarking, for she was speaking with great fluency, and with hardly any accent. this seemed to please her, for she gave me one of those flashing smiles. coloratura and dramatic "would you be pleased," i asked, "if later on your voice should develop into a dramatic soprano?" mme. galli-curci thought an instant. "no," she said, "i think i would rather keep the voice i have. i heartily admire the dramatic voice and the rôles it can sing. raisa's voice is for me the most beautiful i know. but after all i think, for myself, i prefer the lyric and coloratura parts, they are so beautiful. the old italian composers knew well how to write for the voice. their music has beauty, it has melody, and melodic beauty will always make its appeal. and the older italian music is built up not only of melody and fioriture, but is also dramatic. for these qualities can combine, and do so in the last act of _traviata_, which is so full of deep feeling and pathos. breath control "perhaps, in vocal mastery, the greatest factor of all is the breathing. to control the breath is what each student is striving to learn, what every singer endeavors to perfect, what every artist should master. it is an almost endless study and an individual one, because each organism and mentality is different. here, as in everything else, perfect ease and naturalness are to be maintained, if the divine song which is the singer's concept of beauty, is to be 'floated on the breath,' and its merest whisper heard to the farthest corner of the gallery. the matter in a nutshell "to sum up then, the three requirements of vocal mastery are: a, management of the larynx; b, relaxation of the diaphragm; c, control of the breath. to these might be added a fourth; mixed vowels. "but when all these are mastered, what then? ah, so much more it can never be put into words. it is self-expression through the medium of tone, for tone must always be a vital part of the singer's individuality, colored by feeling and emotion. tone is the outlet, the expression of all one has felt, suffered and enjoyed. to perfect one's own instrument, one's medium of expression, must always be the singer's joy and satisfaction." "and you will surely rest when the arduous season is over?" "yes, i will rest when the summer comes, and will return to italy this year. but even though i seem to rest, i never neglect my vocal practice; that duty and pleasure is always performed." and with a charming smile and clasp of the hand, she said adieu. vi =giuseppe de luca= ceaseless effort necessary for artistic perfection "a roman of rome" is what mr. giuseppe de luca has been named. the very words themselves call up all kinds of enchanting pictures. sunny italy is the natural home of beautiful voices: they are her birthright. her blue sky, flowers and olive trees--her old palaces, hoary with age and romantic story, her fountains and marbles, her wonderful treasures of art, set her in a world apart, in the popular mind. everything coming from italy has the right to be romantic and artistic. if it happens to be a voice, it should of necessity be beautiful in quality, rich, smooth, and well trained. [illustration: to mrs. harriette brower cordially giuseppe de luca] while all singers who come from the sunny land cannot boast all these qualifications, mr. de luca, baritone of the metropolitan opera house, new york, can do so. gifted with a naturally fine organ, he has cultivated it arduously and to excellent purpose. he began to study in early youth, became a student of saint cecilia in rome when fifteen years of age, and made his début at about twenty. he has sung in opera ever since. in ,--november th to be exact--de luca came to the metropolitan, and won instant recognition from critics and public alike. it is said of him that he earned "this success by earnest and intelligent work. painstaking to a degree, there is no detail of his art that he neglects or slights--so that one hesitates to decide whether he is greater as a singer or as an actor." perhaps, however, his most important quality is his mastery of "_bel canto_"--pure singing--that art which seems to become constantly rarer on the operatic and concert stage. "de luca does such beautiful, finished work; every detail is carefully thought out until it is as perfect as can be." so remarked a member of the metropolitan, and a fellow artist. those who have listened to the roman baritone in the various rôles he has assumed, have enjoyed his fine voice, his true _bel canto_ style, and his versatile dramatic skill. he has never disappointed his public, and more than this, is ever ready to step into the breach should necessity arise. a man who has at least a hundred and twenty operas at his tongue's end, who has been singing in the greatest opera houses of the world for more than twenty years, will surely have much to tell which can help those who are farther down the line. if he is willing to do so, can speak the vernacular, and can spare a brief hour from the rush of constant study and engagement, a conference will be possible. it was possible, for time was made for it. the musical gift mr. de luca, who speaks the english language remarkably well, greeted the writer with easy courtesy. his genial manner makes one feel at home immediately. although he had just come from the opera house, where he had sung an important rôle, he seemed as fresh and rested as though nothing had happened. "i think the ability to act, and also, in a measure, to sing, is a gift," began the artist. "i remember, even as a little child, i was always acting out in pantomime or mimicry what i had seen and felt. if i was taken to the theater, i would come home, place a chair for audience, and act out the whole story i had just seen before it. from my youngest years i always wanted to sing and act. a remarkable teacher "as early as i could, at about the age of fifteen, i began to study singing, with a most excellent teacher; who was none other than signor wenceslao persischini, who is now no longer living. he trained no fewer than seventy-four artists, of which i was the last. battestini, that wonderful singer, whose voice to-day, at the age of sixty-five, is as remarkable as ever, is one of his pupils. we know that if a vocal teacher sings himself, and has faults, his pupils are bound to copy those faults instinctively and unconsciously. with persischini this could not be the case; for, owing to some throat trouble, he was not able to sing at all. he could only whisper the tones he wanted, accompanying them with signs and facial grimaces." and mr. de luca illustrated these points in most amusing fashion. then he continued: "but he had unerring judgment, together with the finest ear. he knew perfectly how the tone should be sung and the student was obliged to do it exactly right and must keep at it till it was right. he would let nothing faulty pass without correction. i also had lessons in acting from madame marini, a very good teacher of the art. the artist life "after five years of hard study i made my début at piacenza, as valentine, in _faust_, november th, . then, you may remember, i came to the metropolitan in the season of - , where i have been singing continually ever since. "the artist should have good health, that he may be always able to sing. he owes this to his public, to be always ready, never to disappoint. i think i have never disappointed an audience and have always been in good voice. it seems to me when one is no longer able to do one's best it is time to stop singing." "it is because you study constantly and systematically that you are always in good voice." "yes, i am always at work. i rise at eight in the morning, not later. vocalizes are never neglected. i often sing them as i take my bath. some singers do not see the necessity of doing exercises every day; i am not one of those. i always sing my scales, first with full power, then taking each tone softly, swelling to full strength, then dying away--in mezza voce. i use many other exercises also--employing full power. english is also one of the daily studies, with lessons three times a week. constantly on the watch "when singing a rôle, i am always listening--watching--to be conscious of just what i am doing. i am always criticizing myself. if a tone or a phrase does not sound quite correct to me as to placement, or production, i try to correct the fault at once. i can tell just how i am singing a tone or phrase by the feeling and sensation. of course i cannot hear the full effect; no singer ever can actually hear the effect of his work, except on the records. there he can learn, for the first time, just how his voice sounds. learning a new rÔle "how do i begin a new part? i first read over the words and try to get a general idea of their meaning, and how i would express the ideas. i try over the arias and get an idea of those. then comes the real work--the memorizing and working out the conception. i first commit the words, and know them so well i can write them out. next i join them to the music. so far i have worked by myself. after this much has been done, i call in the accompanist, as i do not play the piano very well; that is to say, my right hand will go but the left lags behind! always being sure of the words "yes, as you say, it requires constant study to keep the various rôles in review, especially at the metropolitan, where the operas are changed from day to day. of course at performance the prompter is always there to give the cue--yet the words must always be in mind. i have never yet forgotten a word or phrase. on one occasion--it was in the _damnation of faust_, a part i had already sung a number of times--i thought of a word that was coming, and seemed utterly unable to remember it. i grew quite cold with fear--i am inclined to be a little nervous anyway--but it was quite impossible to think of the word. luckily at the moment when i needed the word i was so fearful about, it suddenly came to me. natural anxiety "of course there is always anxiety for the artist with every public appearance. there is so much responsibility--one must always be at one's best; and the responsibility increases as one advances, and begins to realize more and more keenly how much is expected and what depends on one's efforts. i can assure you we all feel this, from the least to the greatest. the most famous singers perhaps suffer most keenly. "i have always sung in italian opera, in which the language is easy for me. latterly i have added french operas to my list. _samson and delilah_, which i had always done in italian, i had to relearn in french; this for me was very difficult. i worked a long time on it, but mastered it at last. "this is my twenty-second season in opera. i have a repertoire of about one hundred and twenty rôles, in most of which i have sung many times in italy. some i wish might be brought out at the metropolitan. verdi's _don carlos_, for instance, has a beautiful baritone part; it is really one of the fine operas, though it might be considered a bit old-fashioned to-day. still i think it would be a success here. i am preparing several new parts for this season; one of them is the tschaikowsky work--_eugene onegin_. so you see i am constantly at work. "my favorite operas? i think they are these"; and mr. de luca hastily jotted down the following: _don carlos, don giovanni, hamlet, rigoletto, barbier, damnation of faust_, and last, but not least, _tannhauser_. growth of musical appreciation in america asked if he considered appreciation for music had advanced during his residence in america, his answer was emphatically in the affirmative. "the other evening i attended a reception of representative american society, among whom were many frequenters of the metropolitan. many of them spoke to me of the opera _marouf_. i was surprised, for this modern french opera belongs to the new idiom, and is difficult to understand. 'do you really like the music of _marouf_?' i asked. 'oh, yes indeed,' every one said. it is one of my longest parts, but not one of my special favorites. "in the summer! ah, i go back to my beloved italy almost as soon as the metropolitan season closes. i could sing in buenos aires, as the season there follows the one here. but i prefer to rest the whole time until i return. i feel the singer needs a period of rest each year. to show you how necessary it is for the singer to do daily work on the voice, i almost feel i cannot sing at all during the summer, as i do no practicing, and without vocalizes one cannot keep in trim. if i am asked to sing during vacation, i generally refuse. i tell them i cannot sing, for i do not practice. it takes me a little while after i return, to get the vocal apparatus in shape again. "thus it means constant study, eternal vigilance to attain the goal, then to hold what you have attained and advance beyond it if possible." vii =luisa tetrazzini= the coloratura voice luisa tetrazzini has been called the greatest exponent of coloratura singing that we have at the present time. her phenomenal successes in various quarters of the globe, where she has been heard in both opera and concert, are well known, and form pages of musical history, full of interest. this remarkable voice, of exquisite quality and development, is another proof that we have as beautiful voices to-day, if we will but realize the fact, as were ever known or heard of in the days of famous italian songsters. [illustration: louisa tetrazzini] portraits often belie the artist, by accentuating, unduly, some individuality of face or figure, and tetrazzini is no exception. from her pictures one would expect to find one of the imperious, dominating order of prima donnas of the old school. when i met the diva, i was at once struck by the simplicity of her appearance and attire. there was nothing pompous about her; she did not carry herself with the air of one conscious of possessing something admired and sought after by all the world, something which set her on a high pedestal apart from other singers. not at all. i saw a little lady of plump, comfortable figure, a face which beamed with kindliness and good humor, a mouth wreathed with smiles. her manner and speech were equally simple and cordial, so that the visitor was put at ease at once, and felt she had known the great singer for years. before the conference could begin a pretty episode happened, which showed the human side of the singer's character, and gave a glimpse into her every day life. mme. tetrazzini was a little late for her appointment, as she had been out on a shopping expedition, an occupation which she greatly enjoys. awaiting her return was a group of photographers, who had arranged their apparatus, mirrors and flash-light screen, even to the piano stool on which the singer was to be placed. she took in the situation at a glance, as she entered, and obediently gave herself into the hands of the picture makers. "ah, you wish to make me beautiful," she exclaimed, with her pretty accent; "i am not beautiful, but you may try to make me look so." with patience she assumed the required poses, put her head on this side or that, drew her furs closer about her or allowed them to fall away from the white throat, with its single string of pearls. the onlooker suggested she be snapped with a little black "pom," who had found his way into the room and was now an interested spectator, on his vantage ground, a big sofa. so little "joy" was gathered up and held in affectionate, motherly arms, close against his mistress' face. it was all very human and natural, and gave another side to the singer's character from the side she shows to the public. at last the ordeal was over, and madame was free to leave her post and sit in one of the arm chairs, where she could be a little more comfortable. the secretary was also near, to be appealed to when she could not make herself intelligible in english. "my english is very bad," she protested; "i have not the time now to learn it properly; that is why i speak it so very bad. in the summer, or next year, i will really learn it. now, what is it i can tell you? i am ready." for the dÉbutante to ask such a natural born singer how she studies and works, is like asking the fish swimming about in the ocean, to tell you where is the sea! she could not tell you how she does it. singing is as the breath of life to tetrazzini--as natural as the air she breathes. realizing this, i began at the other end. "what message have you, madame, for the young singer, who desires to make a career?" "ah, yes, the débutante. tell her she must practice much--very much--" and madame spread out her hands to indicate it was a large subject; "she must practice several hours every day. i had to practice very much when i began my study--when i was sixteen; but now i do not have to spend much time on scales and exercises; they pretty well go of themselves"; and she smiled sweetly. "you say," she continued, "the débutante--the young singer--does not know--in america--how much she needs the foreign languages. but she should learn them. she should study french, italian and spanish, and know how to speak them. because, if she should travel to those countries, she must make herself understood, and she must be able to sing in those languages, too. "besides the languages, it is very good for her to study piano also; she need not know it so well as if she would be a pianist, but she should know it a little; yet it is better to know more of the piano--it will make her a better musician." the coloratura voice "you love the coloratura music, do you not, madame?" "ah, yes, i love the coloratura,--it suits me; i have always studied for that--i know all the old italian operas. for the coloratura music you must make the voice sound high and sweet--like a bird--singing and soaring. you think my voice sounds something like patti's? maybe. she said so herself. ah, patti was my dear friend--my very dear friend--i loved her dearly. she only sang the coloratura music, though she loved wagner and dramatic music. not long before she died she said to me: 'luisa, always keep to the coloratura music, and the beautiful _bel canto_ singing; do nothing to strain your voice; preserve its velvety quality.' patti's voice went to c sharp, in later years; mine has several tones higher. in the great aria in lucia, she used to substitute a trill at the end instead of the top notes; but she said to me--'luisa, _you_ can sing the high notes!'" "then the breathing, madame, what would you say of that?" "ah, the breathing, that is very important indeed. you must breathe from here, you know--what you call it--from the diaphragm, and from both sides; it is like a bellows, going in and out," and she touched the portions referred to. "one does not sing from the chest,--that would make queer, harsh tones." she sang a few tones just to show how harsh they would be. "you have shown such wonderful breath control in the way you sustain high tones, beginning them softly, swelling then diminishing them." "ah, yes, the coloratura voice must always be able to do those things," was the answer. "should you ever care to become a dramatic singer?" she was asked. tetrazzini grew thoughtful; "no, i do not think so," she said, after a pause; "i love my coloratura music, and i think my audience likes it too; it goes to the heart--it is all melody, and that is what people like. i sing lyric music also--i am fond of that." "yes, and you sing songs in english, with such good diction, that we can all understand you--almost every word." madame beamed. "i promise you i will learn english better next year; for i shall come back to my friends in america next autumn. i shall be in italy in the summer. i have two homes over there, one in italy and one in switzerland. "do i prefer to sing in opera or concert, you ask? i believe i like concert much better, for many reasons. i get nearer to the audience; i am freer--much freer, and can be myself and not some other person. there is no change of costume, either; i wear one gown, so it is easier; yes, i like it much more. "in traveling over your big country--you see i have just been out to california and back--i find your people have advanced so very much in appreciation of music; you know so much more than when i was here before; that was indeed a long time ago--about twelve years,--" and madame made a pretty little gesture. "but in one way your great big country has scarcely advanced any if at all; you have not advanced in providing opera for your music lovers. you need permanent opera companies in all the larger cities. the opera companies of new york and chicago are fine, oh yes,--but they cannot give opera to the whole country. there are a few traveling companies too, which are good. but what are they in your big country? you should have opera stock companies all over, which would give opera for the people. then your fine american girls would have the chance to gain operatic experience in their own country, which they cannot get now. that is why the foreign singer has such a chance here, and that is why the native singer can hardly get a chance. all the american girls' eyes turn with longing to the metropolitan opera house; and with the best intentions in the world the director can only engage a small number of those he would like to have, because he has no room for them. he can not help it. so i say, that while your people have grown so much in the liking and in the understanding of music, you do not grow on this side, because your young singers are obliged to travel to a foreign land to get the practice in opera they are unable to get at home. you need to do more for the permanent establishing of opera in the large and small cities of your country." madame did not express her thoughts quite as consecutively as i have set them down, but i am sure she will approve, as these are her ideas of the musical situation in this country. as i listened to the words of this "second patti," as she is called, and learned of her kindly deeds, i was as much impressed by her kindness of heart as i had been by her beautiful art of song. she does much to relieve poverty and suffering wherever she finds it. as a result of her "vocal mastery," she has been able to found a hospital in italy for victims of tuberculosis, which accommodates between three and four hundred patients. the whole institution is maintained from her own private income. during the war she generously gave of her time and art to sing for the soldiers and aided the cause of the allies and the red cross whenever possible. for her labors of love in this direction, she has the distinction of being decorated by a special gold medal of honor, by both the french and italian governments; a distinction only conferred on two others beside herself. after our conference, i thanked her for giving me an hour from her crowded day. she took my hand and pressed it warmly in both hers. "please do not quite forget me, madame." "indeed not, will you forget me?" "no, i shall always remember this delightful hour." "then, you see, i cannot forget you!" and she gave my hand a parting squeeze. viii =antonio scotti= training american singers for opera a singer of finished art and ripe experience is antonio scotti. his operatic career has been rich in development, and he stands to-day at the top of the ladder, as one of the most admired dramatic baritones of our time. one of naples' sons, he made a first appearance on the stage at malta, in . successful engagements in milan, rome, madrid, russia and buenos aires followed. in he came to london, singing _don giovanni_ at covent garden. a few months thereafter, he came to new york and began his first season at the metropolitan. his vocal and histrionic gifts won instant recognition here and for the past twenty years he has been one of the most dependable artists of each regular season. characterization [illustration: [handwritten note] to miss harriette brower cordially a scotti new york ] with all his varied endowments, it seldom or never falls to the lot of a baritone to impersonate the lover; on the contrary it seems to be his métier to portray the villain. scotti has been forced to hide his true personality behind the mask of a scarpia, a tonio, an iago, and last but not least, the most repulsive yet subtle of all his villains--chim-fang, in _l'oracolo_. perhaps the most famous of them all is scarpia. but what a scarpia, the quintessence of the polished, elegant knave! the refinement of mr. scotti's art gives to each rôle distinct characteristics which separate it from all the others. opportunity for the american singer mr. scotti has done and is doing much for the young american singer, by not only drilling the inexperienced ones, but also by giving them opportunity to appear in opera on tour. to begin this enterprise, the great baritone turned impresario, engaged a company of young singers, most of them americans, and, when his season at the metropolitan was at an end, took this company, at his own expense, on a southern trip, giving opera in many cities. discussing his venture on one occasion, mr. scotti said: "it was an experiment in several ways. first, i had an all-american company, which was indeed an experiment. i had some fine artists in the principal rôles, with lesser known ones in smaller parts. with these i worked personally, teaching them how to act, thus preparing them for further career in the field of opera. i like to work with the younger and less experienced ones, for it gives me real pleasure to watch how they improve, when they have the opportunity. "of course i am obliged to choose my material carefully, for many more apply for places than i can ever accept. italian opera in america "so closely is italy identified with all that pertains to opera," he continued, "that the question of the future of italian opera in america interests me immensely. it has been my privilege to devote some of the best years of my life to singing in italian opera in this wonderful country of yours. one is continually impressed with the great advance america has made and is making along all musical lines. it is marvelous, though you who live here may not be awake to the fact. musicians in europe and other parts of the world, who have never been here, can form no conception of the musical activities here. "it is very gratifying to me, as an italian, to realize that the operatic compositions of my country must play an important part in the future of american musical art. it seems to me there is more intrinsic value--more variety in the works of modern italian composers than in those of other nations. we know the operas of mozart are largely founded on italian models. "of the great modern italian composers, i feel that puccini is the most important, because he has a more intimate appreciation of theatrical values. he seems to know just what kind of music will fit a series of words or a scene, which will best bring out the dramatic sense. montemezzi is also very great in this respect. this in no way detracts from what mascagni, leoncavallo and others have accomplished. it is only my personal estimate of puccini as a composer. the two most popular operas to-day are _aïda_ and _madame butterfly_, and they will always draw large audiences, although american people are prone to attend the opera for the purpose of hearing some particular singer and not for the sake of the work of the composer. in other countries this is not so often the case. we must hope this condition will be overcome in due time, for the reason that it now often happens that good performances are missed by the public who are only attracted when some much heralded celebrity sings." american composers asked for his views regarding american operatic composers, mr. scotti said: "american composers often spoil their chances of success by selecting uninteresting and uninspired stories, which either describe some doleful historic incident or illustrate some indian legend, in which no one of to-day is interested, and which is so far removed from actual life that it becomes at once artificial, academic and preposterous. puccini spends years searching for suitable librettos, as great composers have always done. when he finds a story that is worthy he turns it into an opera. but he will wait till he discovers the right kind of a plot. no wonder he has success. in writing modern music dramas, as all young americans endeavor to do, they will never be successful unless they are careful to pick out really dramatic stories to set to music." operatic training on a certain occasion i had an opportunity to confer with this popular baritone, and learn more in regard to his experiences as impresario. this meeting was held in the little back office of the metropolitan, a tiny spot, which should be--and doubtless is--dear to every member of the company. those four walls, if they would speak, could tell many interesting stories of singers and musicians, famed in the world of art and letters, who daily pass through its doors, or sit chatting on its worn leather-covered benches, exchanging views on this performance or that, or on the desirability or difficulty of certain rôles. even while we were in earnest conference, director gatti-casazza passed through the room, stopping long enough to say a pleasant word and offer a clasp of the hand. mr. guard, too, flitted by in haste, but had time to give a friendly greeting. mr. scotti was in genial mood and spoke with enthusiasm of his activities with a favorite project--his own opera company. to the question as to whether he found young american singers in too great haste to come before the public, before they were sufficiently prepared, thus proving they were superficial in their studies, he replied: "no, i do not find this to be the case. as a general rule, young american singers have a good foundation to build upon. they have good voices to start with; they are eager to learn and they study carefully. what they lack most--those who go in for opera i mean--is stage routine and a knowledge of acting. this, as i have said before, i try to give them. i do not give lessons in singing to these young aspirants, as i might in this way gain the enmity of vocal teachers; but i help the untried singers to act their parts. of course all depends on the mentality--how long a process of training the singer needs. the coloratura requires more time to perfect this manner of singing than others need; but some are much quicker at it than others. "it is well i am blessed with good health, as my task is extremely arduous. when on tour, i sing every night, besides constantly rehearsing my company. we are ninety in all, including our orchestra. it is indeed a great undertaking. i do not do it for money, for i make nothing personally out of it, and you can imagine how heavy the expenses are; four thousand dollars a week, merely for transportation. but i do it for the sake of art, and to spread the love of modern italian opera over this great, wonderful country, the greatest country for music that exists to-day. and the plan succeeds far beyond my hopes; for where we gave one performance in a place, we now, on our second visit, can give three--four. next year we shall go to california. "so we are doing our part, both to aid the young singer who sorely needs experience and to educate the masses and general public to love what is best in modern italian opera!" ix =rosa raisa= patience and perseverance win results to the present day opera goers the name of rosa raisa stands for a compelling force. in whatever rôle she appears, she is always a commanding figure, both physically, dramatically and musically. her feeling for dramatic climax, the intensity with which she projects each character assumed, the sincerity and self forgetfulness of her naturalistic interpretation, make every rôle notable. her voice is a rich, powerful soprano, vibrantly sweet when at its softest--like a rushing torrent of passion in intense moments. at such moments the listener is impressed with the belief that power and depth of tone are limitless; that the singer can never come to the end of her resources, no matter how deeply she may draw on them. there are such moments of tragic intensity, in her impersonation of the heroine in _jewels of the madonna_, in _sister angelica_, in _norma_, as the avenging priestess, in which rôle she has recently created such a remarkable impression. [illustration: rosa raisa] a prima donna at home if one has pictured to one's self that because the russian prima donna can show herself a whirlwind of dynamic passion on the stage, therefore she must show some of these qualities in private life, one would quickly become disabused of such an impression when face to face with the artist. one would then meet a slender, graceful young woman, of gentle presence and with the simplest manners in the world. the dark, liquid eyes look at one with frankness and sincerity; the wide, low brow, from which the dark hair is softly drawn away, is the brow of a madonna. in repose the features might easily belong to one of raphael's saints. however, they light up genially when their owner speaks. mme. raisa stood in the doorway of her new york apartment, ready to greet us as we were shown the way to her. her figure, clad in close-fitting black velvet, looked especially slender; her manner was kind and gracious, and we were soon seated in her large, comfortable salon, deep in conference. before we had really begun, the singer's pet dog came bounding to greet us from another room. the tiny creature, a mexican terrier, was most affectionate, yet very gentle withal, and content to quietly cuddle down and listen to the conversation. "i will speak somewhat softly," began mme. raisa, "since speaking seems to tire me much more than singing, for what reason i do not know. we singers must think a little of our physical well being, you see. this means keeping regular hours, living very simply and taking a moderate amount of exercise. "yes, i always loved to sing; even as a little child i was constantly singing. and so i began to have singing lessons when i was eight years old. later on i went to italy and lived there for a number of years, until i began to travel. i now make my home in naples. my teacher there was madame marchesio, who was a remarkable singer, musician and teacher--all three. even when she reached the advanced age of eighty, she could still sing wonderfully well. she had the real _bel canto_, understood the voice, how to use it and the best way to preserve it. i owe so much to her careful, artistic training; almost everything, i may say. the singer's life "one cannot expect to succeed in the profession of music without giving one's best time and thought to the work of vocal training and all the other subjects that go with it. a man in business gives his day, or the most of it, to his office. my time is devoted to my art, and indeed i have not any too much time to study all the necessary sides of it. "during the season, i do regular vocal practice each day and keep the various rôles in review. during the summer i study new parts, for then i have the time and the quiet. that is what the singer needs--quiet. i always return to naples for the vacation, unless i go to south america and sing there. then i must have a little rest too, that i may be ready for the labors of the following season. vocal training "even during the busiest days technic practice is never neglected. vocalizes, scales, terzetta--what you call them--broken thirds, yes, and long, slow tones in _mezza di voce_, that is, beginning softly, swelling to loud then gradually diminishing to soft, are part of the daily régime. one cannot omit these things if one would always keep in condition and readiness. when at work in daily study, i sing softly, or with medium tone quality; i do not use full voice except occasionally, when i am going through a part and wish to try out certain effects. "one voice" "i was trained first as a coloratura and taught to do all the old italian operas of bellini, rosini, donizetti and the rest of the florid italian school. this gives the singer a thorough, solid training--the sort of training that requires eight or ten years to accomplish. but this is not too much time to give, if one wishes to be thoroughly prepared to sing all styles of music. in former days, when singers realized the necessity of being prepared in this way, there existed i might say--_one voice;_ for the soprano voice was trained to sing both florid and dramatic music. but in these days sopranos are divided into high, lyric, coloratura and dramatic; singers choose which of these lines seems to suit best their voice and temperament. coloratura and dramatic "it is of advantage to the singer to be trained in both these arts. in the smaller opera houses of italy, a soprano, if thus trained, can sing _lucia_ one night and _norma_ the next; _traviata_ one night and _trovatore_ the next. "modern italian opera calls for the dramatic soprano. she must be an actress just as well as a singer. she must be able to express in both voice and gesture intense passion and emotion. it is the period of storm and stress. coloratura voices have not so much opportunity at the present time, unless they are quite out of the ordinary. and yet, for me, a singer who has mastery of the beautiful art of _bel canto,_ is a great joy. galli-curci's art is the highest i know of. for me she is the greatest singer. melba also is wonderful. i have heard her often--she has been very kind to me. when i hear her sing an old italian air, with those pure, bell-like tones of hers, i am lifted far up; i feel myself above the sky. do not yield to discouragement "the younger singer need not yield to discouragement, for she must know from the start, that the mastery of a great art like singing is a long and arduous task. if the work seems too difficult at times, do not give up or say 'i cannot.' if i had done that, i should have really given up many times. instead i say; 'i can do it, and not only i can but i will!' musicianship "there are so many sides to the singer's equipment, besides singing itself"; and mme. raisa lifted dark eyes and spread out her graceful hands as though to indicate the bigness of the subject. "yes, there is the piano, for instance; the singer is much handicapped without a knowledge of that instrument, for it not only provides accompaniment but cultivates the musical sense. of course i have learned the piano and i consider it necessary for the singer. "then there are languages. be not content with your own, though that language must be perfectly learned and expressed, but learn others." "you of course speak several languages?" questioned the listener. "yes, i speak eight," she answered modestly. "russian, of course, for i am russian; then french, italian, german, spanish, polish, roumanian and english. besides these i am familiar with a few dialects. have patience "so many young singers are so impatient; they want to prepare themselves in three or four years for a career," and madame frowned her disapproval. "perhaps they may come before the public after that length of time spent in study; but they will only know a part--a little of all they ought to know. with a longer time, conscientiously used, they would be far better equipped. the singer who spends nine or ten years in preparation, who is trained to sing florid parts as well as those which are dramatic--she indeed can sing anything, the music of the old school as well as of the new. in rome i gave a recital of old music, assisted by members of the sistine chapel choir. we gave much old music, some of it dating from the sixth century. "do i always feel the emotions i express when singing a rôle? yes, i can say that i endeavor to throw myself absolutely into the part i am portraying; but that i always do so with equal success cannot be expected. so many unforeseen occurrences may interfere, which the audience can never know or consider. one may not be exactly in the mood, or in the best of voice; the house may not be a congenial space, or the audience is unsympathetic. but if all is propitious and the audience with you--then you are lifted up and carry every one with you. then you are inspired and petty annoyances are quite forgotten. vocal mastery "you ask a very difficult question when you ask of what vocal mastery consists. if i have developed perfect control throughout the two and a half octaves of my voice, can make each tone with pure quality and perfect evenness in the different degrees of loud and soft, and if i have perfect breath control as well, i then have an equipment that may serve all purposes of interpretation. "together with vocal mastery must go the art of interpretation, in which all the mastery of the vocal equipment may find expression. in order to interpret adequately one ought to possess a perfect instrument, perfectly trained. when this is the case one can forget mechanism, because confident of the ability to express whatever emotion is desired." "have you a message which may be carried to the young singers?" she was asked. "tell them to have patience--patience to work and patience to wait for results. vocal mastery is not a thing that can be quickly accomplished; it is not the work of weeks and months, but of years of consistent, constant effort. it cannot be hurried, but must grow with one's growth, both mentally and physically. but the reward of earnest effort is sure to come!" x =louise homer= the requirements of a musical career madame louise homer is a native artist to whom every loyal american can point with pardonable pride. her career has been a constant, steady ascent, from the start; it is a career so well known in america that there is hardly any need to review it, except as she herself refers to it on the rare occasions when she is induced to speak of herself. for mme. homer is one of the most modest artists in the world; nothing is more distasteful to her than to seek for publicity through ordinary channels. so averse is she to any self-seeking that it was with considerable hesitation that she consented to express her views to the writer, on the singer's art. as mr. sidney homer, the well known composer and husband of mme. homer, remarked, the writer should prize this intimate talk, as it was the first mme. homer had granted in a very long time. [illustration: louise homer] the artist had lately returned from a long trip, crowded with many concerts, when i called at the new york residence of this ideal musical pair and their charming family. mme. homer was at home and sent down word she would see me shortly. in the few moments of waiting, i seemed to feel the genial atmosphere of this home, its quiet and cheer. a distant tinkle of girlish laughter was borne to me once or twice; then a phrase or two sung by a rich, vibrant voice above; then in a moment after, the artist herself descended and greeted me cordially. "we will have a cup of tea before we start in to talk," she said, and, as if by magic, the tea tray and dainty muffins appeared. how wholesome and fresh she looked, with the ruddy color in her cheeks and the firm whiteness of neck and arms. the japanese robe of "midnight blue," embroidered in yellows, heightened the impression of vigorous health by its becomingness. for the girl who wants to make a career "there is so much to consider for the girl who desires to enter the profession," began mme. homer, in response to my first query. "first, she must have a voice, there is no use attempting a career without the voice; there must be something to develop, something worth while to build upon. and if she has the voice and the means to study, she must make up her mind to devote herself exclusively to her art; there is no other way to succeed. she cannot enter society, go to luncheons, dinners and out in the evening, and at the same time accomplish much in the way of musical development. many girls think, if they attend two or three voice lessons a week and learn some songs and a few operatic arias, that is all there is to it. but there is far more. they must know many other things. the vocal student should study piano and languages; these are really essential. not that she should strive to become a pianist; that would not be possible if she is destined to become a singer; but the more she knows of the piano and its literature, the more this will cultivate her musical sense and develop her taste. how an artist works "i am always studying, always striving to improve what i have already learned and trying to acquire the things i find difficult, or that i have not yet attained to. i do vocal technic every day; this is absolutely essential, while one is in the harness. it is during the winter that i work so industriously, both on technic and repertoire, between tours. this is when i study. i believe in resting the voice part of the year, and i take this rest in the summer. then, for a time, i do not sing at all. i try to forget there is such a thing as music in the world, so far as studying it is concerned. of course i try over mr. homer's new songs, when they are finished, for summer is his time for composition. "since the voice is such an intangible instrument, the singer needs regular guidance and criticism, no matter how advanced she may be. as you say, it is difficult for the singer to determine the full effect of her work; she often thinks it much better than it really is. that is human nature, isn't it?" she added with one of her charming smiles. the start in opera "how did you start upon an operatic career?" the singer was asked. just here mr. homer entered and joined in the conference. "i do not desire to go into my life-history, as that would take too long. in a few words, this is how it happened--years ago. "we were living in boston; i had a church position, so we were each busy with our musical work. my voice was said to be 'glorious,' but it was a cumbersome, unwieldy organ. i could only sing up to f; there were so many things i wanted to do with my voice that seemed impossible, that i realized i needed more training. i could have remained where i was; the church people were quite satisfied, and i sang in concert whenever opportunity offered. but something within urged me on. we decided to take a year off and spend it in study abroad. paris was then the mecca for singers and to paris we went. i plunged at once into absorbing study; daily lessons in voice training and repertoire; languages, and french diction, several times a week, and soon acting was added, for every one said my voice was for the theater. i had no idea, when i started out, that i should go into opera. i had always loved to sing, as far back as i can remember. my father was a presbyterian clergyman, and when we needed new hymn books for church or sunday school, they used to come to our house. i would get hold of every hymn book i could find and learn the music. so i was always singing; but an operatic career never entered my thought, until the prospect seemed to unfold before me, as a result of my arduous study in paris. of course i began to learn important arias from the operas. every contralto aspires to sing the grand air from the last act of _le prophete;_ you know it of course. i told my teacher i could never do it, as it demanded higher tones than i had acquired, going up to c. he assured me it would be perfectly easy in a little while, if i would spend a few moments daily on those high notes. his prediction was correct, for in a few months i had no trouble with the top notes. "i studied stage deportment and acting from one of the greatest singing actors of the french stage, paul lherie. what an artist he was! so subtle, so penetrating, so comprehensive. the principles he taught are a constant help to me now, and his remarks often come back to me as i study a new rôle. "as i say, i studied this line of work, not knowing what would grow out of it; i did it on faith, hoping that it might prove useful." "it seems to me," remarked the composer, "that young singers would do well to make a study of acting, along with languages and piano. then, if the voice developed and an operatic career opened to them, they would be so much better prepared; they would have made a start in the right direction; there would not be so much to learn all at once, later on." "if the girl could only be sure she was destined for a stage career," said mme. homer, thoughtfully, "she might do many things from the start that she doesn't think of doing before she knows. "to go on with my paris story. i kept faithfully at work for a year, preparing myself for i knew not just what; i could not guess what was in store. then i got my first opera engagement, quite unexpectedly. i was singing for some professional friends in a large _saale_. i noticed a man standing with his back to me, looking out of one of the long windows. when i finished, he came forward and offered me an engagement at vichy, for the summer season. the name vichy only suggested to my mind a kind of beverage. now i learned the town had a flourishing opera house, and i was expected to sing eight rôles. thus my stage career began." what are the assets for a career? "and what must the girl possess, who wishes to make a success with her singing?" was asked. "first of all, as i have already said, she must have a voice; she can never expect to get very far without that. voice is a necessity for a singer, but it rests with her what she will do with it, how she will develop it. "the next asset is intelligence; that is as great a necessity as a voice. for through the voice we express what we feel, what we are; intelligence controls, directs, shines through and illumines everything. indeed what can be done without intelligence? i could mention a young singer with a good natural voice, who takes her tones correctly, who studies well; indeed one can find no fault with the technical side of her work; but her singing has no meaning--it says absolutely nothing; it only represents just so many notes." "that is because she has not a musical nature," put in mr. homer. "to my mind that is the greatest asset any one can have who wishes to become a musician in any branch of the art. what can be done without a musical nature? of course i speak of the young singer who wishes to make a career. there are many young people who take up singing for their own pleasure, never expecting to do much with it. and it is a good thing to do so. it gives pleasure to their family and friends--is a healthful exercise, and last but not least, is financially good for the teacher they employ. "but the trouble comes when these superficial students aspire to become opera singers, after a couple of seasons' study. of course they all cast eyes at the metropolitan, as the end and aim of all striving. "just as if, when a young man enters a law office, it is going to lead him to the white house, or that he expects it will," said mr. homer. "then," resumed the artist, "we have already three requirements for a vocal career; voice, intelligence and a musical nature. i think the fourth should be a capacity for work. without application, the gifts of voice, intelligence and a musical nature will not make an artist. to accomplish this task requires ceaseless labor, without yielding to discouragement. perhaps the fifth asset would be a cheerful optimism as proof against discouragement. "that is the last thing the student should yield to--discouragement, for this has stunted or impaired the growth of many singers possessed of natural talent. the young singer must never be down-hearted. suppose things do not go as she would like to have them; she must learn to overcome obstacles, not be overcome by them. she must have backbone enough to stand up under disappointments; they are the test of her mettle, of her worthiness to enter the circle with those who have overcome. for she can be sure that none of us have risen to a place in art without the hardest kind of work, struggle and the conquering of all sorts of difficulties. "the sixth asset ought to be patience, for she will need that in large measure. it is only with patient striving, doing the daily vocal task, and trying to do it each day a little better than the day before, that anything worth while is accomplished. it is a work that cannot be hurried. i repeat it; the student must have unlimited patience to labor and wait for results. coloratura and dramatic "i would advise every student to study coloratura first. then, as the voice broadens, deepens and takes on a richer timbre, it will turn naturally to the more dramatic expression. the voice needs this background, or foundation in the old italian music, in order to acquire flexibility and freedom. i was not trained to follow this plan myself, but my daughter louise, who is just starting out in her public career, has been brought up to this idea, which seems to me the best. memorizing "i memorize very easily, learning both words and music at the same time. in taking up a new rôle, my accompanist plays it for me and we go over it carefully noting all there is in language and notes. when i can take it to bed with me, and go over it mentally; when i can go through it as i walk along the street, then it has become a part of me; then i can feel i know it." "mme. homer holds the banner at the metropolitan, for rapid memorizing," said her husband. "on one occasion, when _das rheingold_ was announced for an evening performance, the fricka was suddenly indisposed and unable to appear. early in the afternoon, the director came to mme. homer, begging her to do the part, as otherwise he would be forced to close the house that night. a singer had tried all forenoon to learn the rôle, but had now given it up as impossible. mme. homer consented. she started in at three o'clock and worked till six, went on in the evening, sang the part without rehearsal, and acquitted herself with credit. this record has never been surpassed at the metropolitan." "i knew the other frickas of the ring," said madame, "but had never learned the one in the _rheingold_; it is full of short phrases and difficult to remember, but i came through all right. i may add, as you ask, that perhaps _orfeo_ is my favorite rôle, one of the most beautiful works we have." vocal mastery "what do i understand by vocal mastery? the words explain themselves. the singer must master all difficulties of technic, of tone production, so as to be able to express the thought of the composer, and the meaning of the music." "don't forget that the singer must have a musical nature," added mr. homer, "for without this true vocal mastery is impossible." xi =giovanni martinelli= "let us have plenty of opera in america" said the professor: "how well i remember the first time i heard martinelli. we were traveling in italy that summer, and had arrived in verona rather late in the afternoon. the city seemed full of people, with many strangers, and we could not at first secure accommodations at the hotel. inquiring the cause, the answer was: 'does not the signer know that to-day is one holiday, and to-night, in the amphitheater, _aïda_ will be sung, under the stars.' we finally secured rooms, and of course heard the opera that night. young martinelli was the rhadames, and i shall never forget how splendidly his voice rang out over those vast spaces of the arena. it was a most unusual experience to hear that music sung in the open--'under the stars,' and it was unforgettable." [illustration: giovanni martinelli] giovanni martinelli, who has been for several years one of the leading tenors at the metropolitan opera house, new york, has warmly entrenched himself in the hearts of music lovers in america. to be a great singer, as some one has said, requires, first, voice; second, voice; third, voice. however, at the present hour a great singer must have more than voice; we demand histrionic ability also. we want singing actors as well as great singers. mr. martinelli is the possessor of a beautiful voice and, moreover, is a fine actor and an excellent musician. he was, first of all, a clarinetist before he became a singer, and so well did he play his chosen instrument that his services were in great demand in his home town in italy. then it was discovered he had a voice and he was told he could make a far greater success with that voice than he ever could playing the clarinet. he set to work at once to cultivate the voice in serious earnest and under good instruction. after a considerable time devoted to study, he made his début in milan, in verdi's _ernani_. his success won an engagement at covent garden and for monte carlo. a visit to the singer's new york home is a most interesting experience. he has chosen apartments perched high above the great artery of the city's life--broadway. from the many sun-flooded windows magnificent views of avenue, river and sky are visible, while at night the electrical glamour that meets the eye is fairy-like. it is a sightly spot and must remind the singer of his own sun lighted atmosphere at home. the visitor was welcomed with simple courtesy by a kindly, unaffected gentleman, who insists he cannot speak "your english," but who, in spite of this assertion, succeeds in making himself excellently well understood. one feels his is a mentality that will labor for an object and will attain it through force of effort. there is determination in the firm mouth, which smiles so pleasantly when speaking; the thoughtful brow and serious eyes add their share to the forceful personality. the titian-tinted hair indicates, it is said, a birthplace in northern italy. this is quite true in the case of mr. martinelli, as he comes from a village not far from padua and but fifty miles from venice--the little town of montagnana. daily study "you ask about my daily routine of study. in the morning i practice exercises and vocalizes for one hour. these put the voice in good condition, tune up the vocal chords and oil up the mechanism, so to speak. after this i work on repertoire for another hour. i always practice with full voice, as with half voice i would not derive the benefit i need. at rehearsals i use half voice, but not when i study. in the afternoon i work another hour, this time with my accompanist; for i do not play the piano myself, only just enough to assist the voice with a few chords. this régime gives me three hours' regular study, which seems to me quite sufficient. the voice is not like the fingers of a pianist, for they can be used without limit. if we would keep the voice at its best, we must take care not to overwork it. treatment of the voice "in regard to the treatment of the voice, each singer must work out his own salvation. a great teacher--one who understands his own voice and can sing as well as teach--may tell how he does things, may explain how he treats the voice, may demonstrate to the student his manner of executing a certain phrase or passage, or of interpreting a song. but when this is done he can do little more for the student, for each person has a different mentality and a different quality of voice--indeed there are as many qualities of voice as there are people. after general principles are thoroughly understood, a singer must work them out according to his own ability. this does not mean that he cannot be guided and helped by the greater experience of a master higher up, who can always criticize the _result_ of what the student is trying to do. the voice is a hidden instrument, and eventually its fate must rest with its possessor. a new rÔle "when i take up a new part i read the book very carefully to get a thorough idea of the story, the plot and the characters. then comes the study of my own part, of which i memorize the words first of all. as soon as the words are committed i begin on the music. when these are both well in hand, work with the accompanist follows. "i have many tenor rôles in my repertoire and am working on others. if you ask for my favorite opera, or operas, i would answer, as most italians would do, that i enjoy singing the music of verdi more than that of any composer. i love his _aïda_ perhaps best of all. _ernani_ is a beautiful opera, but maybe would be thought too old-fashioned for new york. i sing various rôles in french as well as italian--_faust, sans gene_, and many more. in italy we know wagner very well--_lohengrin, tannhauser, tristan_ and _meistersinger_,--but of course they are always sung in italian. opera in every city "the metropolitan is one of the greatest opera houses in the world--but it is only _one_. you have a wonderful country, yet most of its cities must do without opera. do not forget that in italy every city and town has its opera house and its season of opera, lasting ten weeks or more. of course the works are not elaborately produced, the singers may not be so great or high-salaried, but the people are being educated to know and love the best opera music. performances are given wednesdays and thursdays, saturdays and sundays; the singers resting the days between. they need to as they are obliged to sing at every performance. "ah, if you would follow some such plan in america! it would create a great love for good music in the smaller cities and towns where people hear so little, and so seldom this kind of music. you do so much for music in every other style, but not for opera. of course i must except the half dozen cities large enough and rich enough to be favored with a season of extended operatic performances; these are the real music centers of your country. "i will show you what we do for opera in italy. here is an italian musical journal, which i have just received." mr. martinelli took up a single-sheet newspaper which lay upon his desk. "you will find all the large cities and most of the small ones reported here. accordingly, accounts are given of what works are being performed, what artists are singing and where, and how long each season will last. thus we can glance over the whole field and keep in touch with every singer. naturally, the time and length of the seasons of performance differ widely in the different places. thus a singer of reputation can make engagements in various places, then go from one town to another in a complete tour, without conflicting. "i have had the pleasure of singing a number of seasons at the metropolitan. during the summer i do not always go back to italy when the season is over here; last year i sang in buenos aires. this keeps me at work the whole year. buenos aires is a beautiful city, and reminds one of milan. yes, i like new york. it is more commercial, of course, but i have grown accustomed to that side of it." as the visitor was leaving, courteously conducted through the corridor by mr. martinelli, a small chariot was encountered, crammed with dolls and toys, the whole belonging to little miss martinelli, aged eleven months. "shall you make a singer of the little lady?" the artist was asked. "ah, no; one singer in a family is enough," was the quick response. "but who can tell? it may so happen, after all." xii =anna case= inspired interpretation anna case, known from one end of our land to the other, in song recital, is surely one hundred per cent. american. she was born in the little state of new jersey, and received her entire vocal training right here in new york city, of a single teacher. no running about from one instructor to another, "getting points" from each, for this singer. she knew from the first moment that she had found the right teacher, one who understood her, what she wanted to do, and could bring her to the goal. and when one has discovered just the right person to develop talent, one should have the good sense and loyalty to stick to that person. this is exactly what miss case has done, for along with other gifts she has the best gift of all--common sense. "mme. ostrom-renard has been my only teacher," she says; "whatever i am or have accomplished i owe entirely to her. she has done everything for me; i feel she is the most wonderful teacher in the world." [illustration: anna case] a life of constant travel and almost daily concerts and recitals, lies before miss case from early in the autumn to the end of spring, with but a few breathing places here and there, between the tours, when she returns home to rest up. during one of these oases it was a pleasant experience to meet and talk with the charming young singer, in her cozy new york apartment. she had just come in from a six weeks' trip, which had included concerts in texas and mexico, where the usual success had attended her everywhere. it must surely give a sense of relief to know that the quiet home is awaiting one's return; that there are to be found one's favorite books, music, piano, the silken divan, soft lights, pictures,--all the familiar comforts one is deprived of on the road. the visitor, coming in from the biting winds without, was impressed with the comfort and warmth of the small salon, as the mistress of it entered. clad in soft draperies of dull blue, which but thinly veiled the white arms and fell away from the rounded throat, miss case was just as beautiful to look upon as when she stands in bewildering evening gown before a rapt audience. and, what is much more to the point, she is a thoroughly sensible, sincere american girl, with no frills and no nonsense about her. after greetings were over, the singer settled herself among the silken cushions of her divan ready for our talk. "i believe i always wanted to sing, rather than do anything else in the way of music. i studied the piano a little at first, but that did not exactly appeal to me. i also began the violin, because my father is fond of that instrument and wanted me to play it. but the violin was not just what i wanted either, for all the time i longed to sing. singing is such a part of one's very self; i wanted to express myself through it. i had no idea, when i started, that i should ever make a specialty of it, or that, in a comparatively few years i should be singing all over the country. i did not know what was before me, i only wanted to learn to sing. "now i cannot tell just how i do the different things one must do to sing correctly. i know that, if i have to master some subject, i just sit down and work at that thing till i can do it--till it is done. my teacher knows every organ in the anatomy, and can describe the muscles, bones and ligaments found in the head, face and throat. she can make a diagram of the whole or any part. not that such knowledge is going to make a singer, but it may help in directing one's efforts." tone placement "can you describe tone placement?" she was asked. "for the deeper tones--as one makes them--they seem to come from lower down: for the middle and higher tones, you feel the vibrations in facial muscles and about the eyes, always focused forward, just at the base of the forehead, between the eyes. it is something very difficult to put into words; the sensations have to be experienced, when making the tones. the singer must judge so much from sensation, for she cannot very well hear herself. i do not really hear myself; i mean by this i cannot tell the full effect of what i am doing." when to practice "no doubt you do much practice--or is that now necessary?" miss case considered this thoughtfully. "i never practice when i am tired, for then it does more harm than good. it is much better for the voice to rest and not use it at all, than to sing when not physically fit. one must be in good condition to make good tones; they will not be clear and perfect if one is not strong and in good health. i can really study, yet not sing at all. for the whole work is mental anyway. using full voice "when i work on the interpretation of a song, in the quiet of my music room here, i try to sing it just as i would before an audience; i have not two ways of doing it, one way for a small room and another for a large one. if your tone placement is correct, and you are making the right effects, they will carry equally in a large space. at least this is my experience. but," she added, smiling, "you may find other artists who would not agree to this, who would think quite differently. each one must see things her own way; and singing is such an individual thing after all. the subject of interpretation "the interpretation of a rôle, or song, is everything--of course. what are mere notes and signs compared to the thoughts expressed through them? yet it is evident there are people who don't agree to this, for one hears many singers who never seem to look deeper than the printed page. they stand up and go through their songs, but the audiences remain cold; they are not touched. the audiences are blamed for their apathy or indifference, but how can they be warmed when the singer does not kindle them into life? "to me there is a wonderful bond of sympathy between the audience and myself. i feel the people, in a sense, belong to me--are part of my family. to them i pour out all my feelings--my whole soul. all the sorrow of the sad songs, all the joy of the gay ones, they share with me. in this spirit i come before them; they feel this, i am sure. it awakens a response at once, and this always inspires me. i put myself in a receptive mood; it has the desired effect; my interpretation becomes inspired through their sympathy and my desire to give out to them. the words of a song paramount "i feel the greatest thing about a song is the words. they inspired the music, they were the cause of its being. i cannot imagine, when once words have been joined to music, how other words can be put to the same music, without destroying the whole idea. the words must be made plain to the audience. every syllable should be intelligible, and understood by the listener. i feel diction is so absolutely essential. how can a singer expect the audience will take an interest in what she is doing, if they have no idea what it is all about? and this applies not only to english songs but to those in french as well. in an audience there will be many who understand french. shall the singer imagine she can pronounce a foreign tongue in any old way, and it will go--in these days? no, she must be equally careful about all diction and see that it is as nearly perfect as she can make it; that it is so correct that anybody can understand every word. when she can do this, she has gone a long way toward carrying her audience with her when she sings. "when the diction is satisfactory, there is yet something much deeper; it is the giving out of one's best thought, one's best self, which must animate the song and carry it home to the listener. it touches the heart, because it comes from one's very inmost being. i am a creature of mood. i cannot sing unless i feel like it. i must be inspired in order to give an interpretation that shall be worth anything. growth of appreciation "in traveling over the country, i have found such wonderful musical growth, and it seems to increase each year. even in little places the people show such appreciation for what is good. and i only give them good music--the best songs, both classical and modern. nothing but the best would interest me. in my recent trip, down in mexico and oklahoma, there are everywhere large halls, and people come from all the country round to attend a concert. men who look as though they had driven a grocery wagon, or like occupation, sit and listen so attentively and with such evident enjoyment. i am sure the circulation of the phonograph records has much to do with america's present wonderful advancement in musical understanding." just here a large cat slipped through the doorway; such a beautiful creature, with long gray and white fur and big blue eyes. "it is a real chinchilla, of high degree," said miss case, caressing her pet. "i call her fochette. i am so fond of all animals, especially dogs and cats." "you must know the country well, having been over it so much." "yes, but oh, the long distances! it often takes so many hours to go from one place to another. i think there is a reason why foreign singers are apt to be rather stout; they are not worn out by traveling great distances, as cities are so much nearer together than over here!" and miss case smiled in amusement. "but, in spite of all discomforts of transportation and so on, the joy of bringing a message to a waiting audience is worth all it costs. i often think, if one could just fly to chicago or philadelphia, for instance, sing one's program and return just as quickly, without all these hours of surface travel, how delightful it would be! i had a wonderful experience in an airplane last summer. flying has the most salutary effect on the voice. after sailing through the air for awhile, you feel as though you could sing anything and everything, the exhilaration is so great. one takes in such a quantity of pure air that the lungs feel perfectly clear and free. one can learn a lesson about breathing from such an experience." before parting a final question was asked: "what, in your opinion, are the vital requisites necessary to become a singer?" almost instantly came the reply: "brains, personality, voice." with this cryptic answer we took leave of the fair artist. xiii =florence easton= problems confronting the young singer english by birth, american by marriage, beloved in every country where her art is known, florence easton, after ten years of activity in the music centers of europe, is now making her home in america. mme. easton is a singer whose attitude towards music is one of deepest sincerity. no one could witness her beautiful, sympathetic investiture of the saint elizabeth, of liszt, or some of her other important rôles, without being impressed with this complete, earnest sincerity. it shines out of her earnest eyes and frank smile, as she greets the visitor; it vibrates in the tones of her voice as she speaks. what can even a whole hour's talk reveal of the deep undercurrents of an artist's thought? yet in sixty minutes many helpful things may be said, and mme. easton, always serious in every artistic thing she undertakes, will wish the educational side of our talk to be uppermost. the young singer "i have a deep sympathy for the american girl who honestly wishes to cultivate her voice. of course, in the first place, she must have a voice to start with; there is no use trying to train something which doesn't exist. given the voice and a love for music, it is still difficult to tell another how to begin. each singer who has risen, who has found herself, knows by what path she climbed, but the path she found might not do for another. "there are quantities of girls in america with good voices, good looks and a love for music. and there are plenty of good vocal teachers, too, not only in new york, but in other large cities of this great country. there is always the problem, however, of securing just the right kind of a teacher. for a teacher may be excellent for one voice but not for another. the studio versus the concert room [illustration: florence easton] "the american girl, trained in the studio, has little idea of what it means to sing in a large hall or opera house. in the small room her voice sounds very pretty, and she can make a number of nice effects; she may also have a delicate pianissimo. these things are mostly lost when she tries them in a large space. it is like beginning all over again. she has never been taught any other way but the studio way. if young singers could only have a chance to try their wings frequently in large halls, it would be of the greatest benefit. if they could sing to a public who only paid a nominal sum and did not expect great things; a public who would come for the sake of the music they were to hear, because they wanted the enjoyment and refreshment of it, not for the sake of some singers with big names, they would judge the young aspirant impersonally, which would be one of the best things for her. value of honest criticism "frequently the trouble with the young singer is that her friends too often tell her how wonderful she is. this is a hindrance instead of a help. she should always have some one who will criticize her honestly. the singer cannot really hear herself, that is, not until she is well advanced in her work. therefore she should always have the guidance of a teacher. i never think of giving a program without going through it for criticism. the office of critic is a very difficult one, especially if you are to criticize some one you are fond of. mr. maclennan and i try to do it for each other. i assure you it is no easy task to sing a program knowing some one is listening who will not spare you, and will tell you all your faults. i know this is all very salutary, but it is human nature to wish to hear one's good points rather than the poor ones. i sometimes say: 'do tell me the good things i did.' but he says he does not need to speak of those; i only need to know my faults in order that they may be corrected. "it is so easy to overdo a little, one way or the other. for instance, you make a certain effect,--it goes well. you think you will make it a little more pronounced next time. and so it goes on, until before you know it you have acquired a definite habit, which the critics will call a mannerism and advise you to get rid of. so the artist has to be constantly on the watch, to guard against these incipient faults." breathing exercises asked what kind of breathing exercises she used, mme. easton continued: "no doubt each one has her own exercises for the practice and teaching of breath control. for myself, i stand at the open window, for one should always breathe pure air, and i inhale and exhale slowly, a number of times, till i feel my lungs are thoroughly clear and filled with fresh air. then i frequently sing tones directly after these long inhalations. a one-octave scale, sung slowly in one breath, or at most in two, is an excellent exercise. you remember lilli lehmann's talks about the 'long scale'? but the way in which she uses it perhaps no one but a lehmann could imitate. what a wonderful woman she was--and is! she has such a remarkable physique, and can endure any amount of effort and fatigue. every singer who hopes to make a success in any branch of the musical profession, should look after the physical side, and see that it is cared for and developed. "study the piano!" "if a girl is fond of music, let her first of all study the piano, for a knowledge of the piano and its music is really at the bottom of everything. if i have a word of advice to mothers, it should be: 'let your child study the piano.' all children should have this opportunity, whether they greatly desire it or not. the child who early begins to study the piano, will often--almost unconsciously--follow the melody she plays with her voice. thus the love of song is awakened in her, and a little later it is discovered she has a voice that is worth cultivating. how many of our great singers began their musical studies first at the piano. "on the other hand, the girl with a voice, who has never worked at the piano, is greatly handicapped from the start, when she begins her vocal studies. as she knows nothing of the piano, everything has to be played for her,--she can never be independent of the accompanist; she loses half the pleasure of knowing and doing things herself." full or half voice asked if she used full or half voice for practice, mme. easton replied: "i do not, as a rule, use full voice when at work. but this admission, if followed, might prove injurious to the young singer. in the earlier stages of study, one should use full voice, for half voice might result in very faulty tone production. the advanced singer, who has passed the experimental stage can do many things the novice may not attempt, and this is one of them. in regard to memorizing "here again my particular method of work can hardly be of value to others, as i memorize with great rapidity. it is no effort for me; i seem to be able to visualize the whole part. music has always been very easy to remember and with sufficient concentration i can soon make the words my own. i always concentrate deeply on what i am doing. lately i was asked to prepare a leading rôle in one of the season's new operas, to replace a singer at short notice, should this be necessary. i did so and accomplished the task in four days. mr. caruso laughingly remarked i must have a camera in my head. i know my own parts, both voice and accompaniment. in learning a song, i commit both voice and words at the same time. feeling deeply during performance "i feel the meaning of the music, the tragedy or comedy, the sadness or gayety of it each time i perform it, but not, as a rule, to the extent of being entirely worn out with emotion. it depends, however, on the occasion. if you are singing in a foreign language, which the audience does not understand, you make every effort to 'put it over,' to make them see what you are trying to tell them. you strive to make the song intelligible in some way. you may add facial expression and gesture, more than you would otherwise do. all this is more wearing because of the effort involved. language "this brings us to another point, the study of languages. the italian sings nearly all his rôles in his own tongue, with a few learned in french. with the frenchman, it is the same: he sings in his own tongue and learns some parts in italian. but we poor americans are forced to learn our parts in all three languages. this, of itself, greatly adds to our difficulties. we complain that the american sings his own language so carelessly. an italian, singing his own language for his own people, may not be any more careful than we are, but he will make english, if he attempts it, more intelligible than we do, because he takes extra care to do so. the duty is laid upon americans to study other languages, if they expect to sing. i know how often this study is neglected by the student. it is another phase of that haste to make one's way which is characteristic of the young student and singer. "take, for example, the girl in the small town, who is trying to do something with her voice. she believes if she can get to new york, or some other music center, and have six months' lessons with some well known teacher, she will emerge a singer. she comes and finds living expenses so great that only one lesson a week with the professor is possible. there is no chance for language or diction study, or piano lessons; yet all these she ought to have. and one vocal lesson a week is entirely inadequate. the old way of having daily lessons was far more successful. the present way vocal teachers give lessons is not conducive to the best development. the pupils come in a hurry, one after another, to get their fifteen or twenty minutes of instruction. yet one cannot blame the teacher for he must live. the ideal way "the ideal way is to have several lessons a week, and not to take them in such haste. if the pupil arrives, and finds, on first essay, that her voice is not in the best of trim, how much better to be able to wait a bit, and try again; it might then be all right. but, as i said, under modern conditions, this course seems not to be possible, for the teacher must live. if only vocal lessons could be free, at least to the talented ones! it seems sad that a gifted girl must pay to learn to sing, when it is a very part of her, as much as the song of the bird. ah, if i had plenty of money, i would see that many of them should have this privilege, without always looking at the money end of it. amount of daily practice "it seems to me the young singer should not practice more than two periods of fifteen or twenty minutes each. at most one should not use the voice more than an hour a day. we hear of people practicing hours and hours daily, but that is probably in books. the voice cannot be treated as the pianist or violinist does his fingers. one must handle the voice with much more care. opportunities for the young singer in america "the chances for the american singer to make a career in concert and recital are abundant. in no other country in the world do such opportunities exist. if she can meet the requirements, she can win both fame and fortune on the concert stage. "in opera, on the other hand, opportunities are few and the outlook anything but hopeful. every young singer casts longing eyes at the metropolitan, or chicago opera, as the goal of all ambition. but that is the most hopeless notion of all. no matter how beautiful the voice, it is drill, routine, experience one needs. without these, plus musical reputation, how is one to succeed in one of the two opera houses of the land? and even if one is accepted 'for small parts,' what hope is there of rising, when some of the greatest artists of the world hold the leading rôles? what the american singer needs is opportunity to gain experience and reputation in smaller places. several years' drill and routine would fit the aspirant for a much broader field. this would give her command over her resources and herself, and perfect her voice and impersonations, if she has the gifts and constantly studies to improve them. even england, so small compared to america, has seven opera companies that travel up and down the land, giving opera; they have done this during all the years of the war. "this question of providing opportunity for operatic experience in america, is one which has long been discussed and many experiments have been tried, without arriving at satisfactory results. what is needed is to awaken interest in opera in small places--just little out-of-the-way towns. my idea would be to have a regular stock local opera company, and have the standard operas studied. have a little orchestra of about twenty and a small chorus. the small parts to be learned by the most competent singers in the place. then have the few principal rôles taken by 'guest artists,' who might make these engagements in regular route and succession. it seems to me such a plan could be carried out, and what a joy it would be to any small community! but people must gradually awake to this need: it will take time." xiv =marguerite d'alvarez= the message of the singer a great podium backed with green, reminding one of a forest of palms; dim lights through the vast auditorium; a majestic, black-robed figure standing alone among the palms, pouring out her voice in song; a voice at once vibrant, appealing, powerful, filled now with sweeping passion, again with melting tenderness; such was the stage setting for my first impression of mme. marguerite d'alvarez, and such were some of the emotions she conveyed. soon after this experience, i asked if i might have a personal talk with the artist whose singing had made such a deep impression upon me. it was most graciously granted, and at the appointed hour i found myself in a charmingly appointed yet very home-like salon, chatting with this spanish lady from peru, who speaks such beautiful english and is courtesy itself. this time it was not a somber, black-robed figure who came forward so graciously to greet me, for above a black satin walking skirt, madame had added a blouse of soft creamy lace, which revealed the rounded curves of neck and arms; the only ornament being a string of pearls about the full throat. later in our talk i ventured to express my preference for creamy draperies instead of black, for the concert room; but the singer thought otherwise. "no," she said; "my gown must be absolutely unobtrusive--negative. i must not use it to heighten effect, or to attract the audience to me personally. people must be drawn to me by what i express, by my art, by what i have to give them." but to begin at the beginning. in answer to my first question, "what must one do to become a singer?" madame said: [illustration: marguerite d'alvarez] "to become a singer, one must have a voice; that is of the first importance. in handling and training that voice, breathing is perhaps the most vital thing to be considered. to some breath control seems to be second nature; others must toil for it. with me it is intuition; it has always been natural. breathing is such an individual thing. with each person it is different, for no two people breathe in just the same way, whether natural or acquired. just as one pianist touches the keys of the instrument in his own peculiar way, unlike the ways of all other pianists. for instance, no two singers will deliver the opening phrase of 'my heart at thy sweet voice,' from _samson_, in exactly the same way. one will expend a little more breath on some tones than on others; one may sing it softer, another louder. indeed how can two people ever give out a phrase in the same way, when they each feel it differently? the great thing is to control the management of the breath through intelligent study. but alas,"--with a pretty little deprecating gesture,--"many singers do not seem to use their intelligence in the right way. they need to study so many things besides vocalizes and a few songs. they ought to broaden themselves in every way. they should know books, pictures, sculpture, acting, architecture,--in short everything possible in the line of art, and of life. for all these things will help them to sing more intelligently. they should cultivate all these means of self-expression. for myself, i have had a liberal education in music--piano, harmony, theory, composition and kindred subjects. and then i love and study art in all its forms and manifestations." "your first recital in new york was a rich and varied feast," i remarked. "indeed i feel i gave the audience too much; there was such a weight of meaning to each song, and so many! i cannot sing indifferent or superficial songs. i must sing those which mean much, either of sadness or mirth, passion or exaltation. no one knows (who has not been through it) what it means to face a great audience of strangers, knowing that something in you must awake those people and draw them toward you: you must bare your very soul to them and bring theirs to you, in answering response, just by your voice. it is a wonderful thing, to bring to masses of people a message in this way. i feel this strongly, whenever i stand before a large audience, that with every note i sing i am delivering something of the god-given gift which has been granted to me--that i can do some good to each one who hears. if they do not care for me, or if they misunderstand my message, they may hate me--at first. when they do understand, then they adore me. sentiment versus temperament "you can well believe it is far more difficult to sing a recital program than to do an operatic rôle. in the recital you are absolutely alone, and entirely responsible for your effect on the audience. you must be able to express every variety of emotion and feeling, must make them realize the difference between sorrow and happiness, revenge or disdain; in short, make them, for the moment, experience these things. the artist who can best vivify these varying emotions must have temperament. on the piano, you may hear players who express sentiment, feeling, fine discrimination in tone color and shading; but comparatively few possess real temperament. there is great difference between that quality and sentiment. the one can be learned, to a certain extent; but temperament is one's very life and soul, and is bound to sweep everything before it. of this one thing i am very sure; the singer cannot express all these emotions without feeling them to the full during performance. i always feel every phrase i sing--live it. that is why, after a long and exhausting program, i am perfectly limp and spent. for i have given all that was in me. friends of sara bernhardt say that after a performance, they would find her stretched prone on a couch in her dressing room, scarcely able to move or speak. the strain of a public appearance, when one gives one's heart's blood, is beyond words"; and madame's upturned face and expressive gesture denoted how keenly alive she was to this experience. after a little pause, i said: "let us come down to earth, while you tell me just how you study. no doubt you do some daily technical practice." massage the voice "oh, yes, technic is most important; one can do nothing without it. when i begin to study in the morning, i give the voice what i call a massage. one's voice cannot be driven, it must be coaxed, enticed. this massage consists of humming exercises, with closed lips. humming is the sunshine of the voice." the singer illustrated the idea with a short musical figure, consisting of three consecutive tones of the diatonic scale, ascending and descending several times; on each repetition the phrase began on the next higher note of the scale. "you see," she continued, "this little exercise brings the tone fully forward. as you feel the vibration, it should be directly between the eyes. "now, after you have coaxed the voice forward in this way, and then opened your lips to sing a full tone, this tone should, indeed must, be right in the same place where the humming tones were,--it cannot be anywhere else." madame illustrated again, first humming on one tone, then letting it out with full resonance, using the vowel ah, which melted into o, and later changed into u, as the tone died away. "this vibration in the voice should not be confounded with a tremolo, which is, of course, very undesirable. a voice without vibrato, would be cold and dead, expressionless. there must be this pulsing quality in the tone, which carries waves of feeling on it. "thus the singer entices the voice to come forward and out, never treating it roughly or harshly, never forcing or straining it. take pleasure in every tone you make; with patience and pleasure much is accomplished. i could not give you a more useful tip than this." "will you tell me how you learn a song?" she was asked. "i first read over the text and get a good idea of its meaning. when i begin to study the song, i never separate the music from the words, but learn both together. i play the piano of course, and thus can get a good idea of the accompaniment, and of the whole _ensemble_. "i feel so strongly that real art, the highest art, is for those who truly understand it and its mission. a dream of mine is one day to found a school of true art. everything in this school shall be on a high plane of thought. the instructors shall be gifted themselves and have only lofty ideals. and it will be such a happiness to watch the development of talent which may blossom into genius through having the right nurture. i shall watch this work from a distance, for i might be too anxious if i allowed myself to be in the midst of the work. but this is my dream, and i hope it will one day come true." xv =maria barrientos= be your own critic it is often remarked that the world has grown far away from coloratura singing; that what we want to-day is the singing actor, the dramatic singer, who can portray passion--tear it to tatters if need be--but at least throw into voice gesture and action all the conflicting emotions which arise when depicting a modern dramatic character. it is said, with much truth, composers do not write coloratura parts in these days, since audiences do not care to listen to singers who stand in the middle of the stage, merely to sing beautiful arias and tonal embroideries. therefore there are very few coloratura singers at present, since their opportunities are so limited. to the last objection it can be answered that audiences do still flock to hear a great coloratura artist, for they know they will hear pure, beautiful melodies when they listen to the old italian operas. and melody proves to be a magnet every time; it always touches the heart. again, the coloratura singer is not obliged to stand in the middle of the stage, while she warbles beautiful tones, with seemingly little regard for the rôle she is enacting. the coloratura singer, who is an artist, can act as well as sing. tetrazzini, as she moves about the room, greeting her guests, as she does in _traviata_ or _lucia_, can at the same time keep right on with her florid song, proving she can think of both arts at once. it is quite true there are not many coloratura singers of the first rank to-day. when you have mentioned galli-curci, tetrazzini, barrientos, and frieda hempel--the last is both lyric and coloratura--you have named all the great ones who are known to us here in america. there are a couple of younger artists, garrison and macbeth, who are rapidly gaining the experience which will one day place them in the charmed circle. [illustration: maria barrientos] consider for an instant the three first named singers. they stand at the very top of their profession; they are each and all great in their chosen line, to which they are fitted by reason of their special vocal gifts. yet how absolutely different is each from the other! they cannot even be compared. they all sing the great florid arias, but each with her own peculiar timbre of voice, her individual nuance and manner of expression. and it is well this should be so. we would not have all coloratura singing of the same pattern of sameness or quality, for we find uniformity is monotonous. there is one peculiar mode of mastery for galli-curci, another for tetrazzini, still another for barrientos; each in her particular _genre_ is unique, apart. perhaps this is especially the case with the spanish prima donna, barrientos, who has for several years past come to the metropolitan for part of the season. she lives very quietly--almost in seclusion--in the great city, keeping very much to herself, with her mother and the members of her household, and does not care to have the simple routine she plans for herself interrupted by any outside demands on her crowded days. thus it happens that very few come face to face with the spanish artist except her personal friends. but once in a while she breaks the strict rule, and will consent to speak with a serious questioner about her manner of study, how she happened to take up a musical career, also some of the characteristics of her country, its people and its musical art. as her own art of song is most delicate and pure, as her instrument is the most fragile and ethereal of any of the voices of her class, so the singer herself is of slight and delicate physique. her oval face, with its large luminous eyes, has a charm more pronounced than when seen on the other side of the footlights. her manner is simple and sincere, in common with that of all great artists. "although i always loved singing, i never expected to become a singer," began mme. barrientos, as we were seated on a comfortable divan in her artistic music room. "as a very young girl, hardly more than a child, my health became delicate. i had been working very hard at the royal conservatory of music, in barcelona, my native city, studying piano, violin and theory, also composition. i was always a delicate child, and the close application required for these studies was too much for me. singing was prescribed in order to develop my chest and physique; i took it up as a means of health and personal pleasure, without the slightest idea to what it might lead. "you speak of the responsibility of choosing a good and reliable vocal instructor. this is indeed a difficult task, because each teacher is fully persuaded that his method is the only correct one. but there are so _many teachers_, and some of them do not even sing themselves at all. can you imagine a vocal teacher who cannot sing himself, who is so to say voiceless, unable to demonstrate what he teaches? a piano or violin teacher must play his instrument, or he will not be able to show the pupils how it ought to be done. but the vocal teacher thinks to instruct without demonstrating what he is trying to impart. beginning vocal study with opera "so i did not begin my studies with a regular vocal teacher, but with a dilettante--i do not know just how you say that in english. this gentleman was not a professional; he was a business man who at the same time was a good musician. instead of starting me with a lot of scales and exercises, we began at once with the operas. i was twelve years old when i began, and after one year of this kind of study, made my début in the rôle of inez, in _l'africaine_. about this time i lost my kind instructor, who passed away. i then worked by myself until i was sixteen, when i began to study technic systematically. as you see, then, i am practically self-taught. it seems to me, if one has voice and intelligence, one can and should be one's own teacher. no one else can do as much for you as you can do for yourself. you can tell what the sensations are, what parts are relaxed and what parts are firm, better than any one else. you can listen and work on tone quality until it reaches the effect you desire. i do not neglect vocal technic now, for i know its value. i do about three quarters of an hour technical practice every day--scales and exercises. memorizing "i memorize very easily; it only takes a few weeks to learn an operatic rôle. i spent three weeks on _coq d'or_, and that is a difficult part, so many half tones and accidentals. but i love that music, it is so beautiful; it is one of my favorite rôles. some parts are longer and more difficult than others. of course i know most of the italian operas and many french ones. i should like to sing _mireille_ and _lakmé_ here, but the director may wish to put on other works instead. spanish opera "yes, we have native opera in spain, but the works of our operatic composers are little known in other lands. the spanish people are clannish, you see, and seem to lack the ambition to travel abroad to make their art known to others; they are satisfied to make it known to their own people. casals and i--we are perhaps the ones who regularly visit you, though you have several spanish singers in the opera who reside here permanently. "as for spanish composers of instrumental music, you are here somewhat familiar with the names of grovelez and albeniz; granados you know also, both his opera, _goyescas_, which was performed at the metropolitan, and his personality. he came to america to witness the premier of his opera, and while here proved he was a most excellent pianist as well as a composer of high merit, which fact was revealed in his piano and vocal compositions. the american people were most kind and appreciative to him. when the disaster came and he was lost at sea, the testimonial they sent his orphaned children was a goodly sum, though i hardly think the children appreciated your goodness. "among the composers in spain who have turned their gifts toward operatic channels i can mention pedrell, morea, falla, vives and breton. vives is now writing an opera for me, entitled _abanico_. gradually, no doubt, the music of our country, especially its opera, will find its way to other lands. even in england, i am told, spanish music is very little known; our many distinguished modern musicians are hardly even names. of course the world knows our toreador songs, our castanet dances, and the like; perhaps they think we have little or no serious music, because it is still unknown. spanish music is peculiar to the country; it is permeated with the national spirit and feeling." asked if she would sing in south america during the vacation, the singer answered: "i have sung there with great success. but i shall not be able to go there this summer. my little boy has been placed in a school in france; it is the first time we have been separated, and it has been very hard for me to have the ocean between us. i shall sing at atlanta, the first week of may, and then sail the middle of the month for france. yes, indeed, i hope to return to america next season. "i trust you have been able to understand my poor english," she said smiling, as she parted with her visitor; "we speak several languages here in my home--spanish with my mother and friends, french and italian with others in the household. but there seems little necessity for using english, even though i am living in the heart of the metropolis. perhaps next year, i shall master your language better." and the picture of her, as she stood in her artistic, home-like salon, with its lights, its pictures and flowers, is even more lasting than any to be remembered on the operatic stage. xvi =claudia muzio= a child of the opera [illustration: claudia muzio] in tales of romance one reads sometimes of a gifted girl who lives in a musical atmosphere all her life, imbibing artistic influences as naturally and almost as unconsciously as the air she breathes. at the right moment, she suddenly comes out into the light and blossoms into a full fledged singer, to the surprise and wonder of all her friends. or she is brought up behind the scenes in some great opera house of the world, where, all unnoticed by her elders, she lives in a dream world of her own, peopled by the various characters in the operas to which she daily listens. she watches the stage so closely and constantly that she unconsciously commits the rôles of the heroines she most admires, to memory. she knows what they sing, how they act the various parts, how they impersonate the characters. again, at the right moment, the leading prima donna is indisposed, there is no one to take her place; manager is in despair, when the slip of a girl, who is known to have a voice, but has never sung in opera, offers to go on in place of the absent one. she is finally permitted to do so; result, a popular success. some pages of claudia muzio's musical story read like the romantic experiences of a novel-heroine. she, too, was brought up in great opera houses, and it seemed natural, that in due course of time, she should come into her own, in the greatest lyric theater of the land of her adoption. when she returned to america, a couple of years ago, after gaining experience in europe, she arrived toward the end of the season preceding her scheduled début here, to prepare herself more fully for the coming appearance awaiting her. i was asked to meet and talk with the young singer, to ascertain her manner of study, and some of her ideas regarding the work which lay before her. * * * * * "it was always my dream to sing at the metropolitan, and my dream has come true." claudia muzio said the words with her brilliant smile, as her great soft dark eyes gazed luminously at the visitor. the day was cold and dreary without, but the singer's apartment was of tropical warmth. a great bowl of violets on the piano exhaled delicious fragrance; the young italian in the bloom of her oriental beauty, seemed like some luxuriant tropical blossom herself. claudia muzio, who was just about to take her place among the personnel of the metropolitan, is truly to the manner born,--a real child of the opera. she has lived in opera all her life, has imbibed the operatic atmosphere from her earliest remembrance. it must be as necessary for a singer who aspires to fill a high place in this field of artistic endeavor, to live amid congenial surroundings, as for a pianist, violinist or composer to be environed by musical influences. "yes, i am an italian," she began, "for i was born in italy; but when i was two years old i was taken to london, and my childhood was passed in that great city. my father was stage manager at covent garden, and has also held the same post at the manhattan and metropolitan opera houses in new york. so i have grown up in the theater. i have always listened to opera--daily, and my childish imagination was fired by seeing the art of the great singers. i always hoped i should one day become a singer, so i always watched the artists in action, noting how they did everything. as a result, i do not now have to study acting as a separate branch of the work, for acting comes to me naturally. i am very temperamental; i feel intuitively how the rôle should be enacted. "all tiny children learn to sing little songs, and i was no exception. i acquired quite a number, and at the age of six, exhibited my accomplishments at a little recital. but i never had singing lessons until i began to study seriously at about the age of sixteen. although i did not study the voice till i reached that age, i was always occupied with music, for i learned as a little girl to play both harp and piano. "we lived in london, of which city i am very fond, from the time i was two, till i was fourteen, then we came to america. after residing here a couple of years, it was decided i should make a career, and we went to italy. i was taken to madame anna casaloni at turino. she was quite elderly at that time, but she had been a great singer. when she tried my voice, she told me it was quite properly placed--so i had none of that drudgery to go through. "at first my voice was a very light soprano, hardly yet a coloratura. it became so a little later, however, and then gradually developed into a dramatic soprano. i am very happy about this fact, for i love to portray tears as well as laughter--sorrow and tragedy as well as lightness and gayety. the coloratura manner of singing is all delicacy and lightness, and one cannot express deep emotion in this way. "we subsequently went to milano, where i studied with madame viviani, a soprano who had enjoyed great success on the operatic stage. "after several years of serious study i was ready to begin my career. so i sang in milan and other italian cities, then at covent garden, and now i am in the metropolitan. in italy i created the rôle of fiora in _amore del tre re_, and sang with ferrari-fontana. i also created francesca in _francesca da rimini_, under its composer, zandonai. i have a repertoire of about thirty operas, and am of course adding to it constantly, as one must know many more than thirty rôles. since coming to new york, i have learned _aïda_, which i did not know before, and have already appeared in it. it was learned thoroughly in eight days. now i am at work on _madame butterfly_. technical practice "i work regularly every morning on vocal technic. not necessarily a whole hour at a stretch, as some do; but as much time as i feel i need. i give practically my whole day to study, so that i can make frequent short pauses in technical practice. if technic is studied with complete concentration and vigor, as it always should be, it is much more fatiguing than singing an opera rôle. "you ask about the special forms of exercises i use. i sing all the scales, one octave each--once slow and once fast--all in one breath. then i sing triplets on each tone, as many as i can in one breath. i can sing about fifteen now, but i shall doubtless increase the number. for all these i use full power of tone. another form of exercise is to take one tone softly, then go to the octave above, which tone is also sung softly, but there is a large crescendo made between the two soft tones. my compass is three octaves--from c below middle c, to two octaves above that point. i also have c sharp, but i do not practice it, for i know i can reach it if i need it, and i save my voice. neither do i work on the final tones of the lowest octave, for the same reason--to preserve the voice. breath control "every singer knows how important is the management of the breath. i always hold the chest up, taking as long breaths as i can conveniently do. the power to hold the breath, and sing more and more tones with one breath, grows with careful, intelligent practice. there are no rules about the number of phrases you can sing with a single breath. a teacher will tell you; if you can sing two phrases with one breath, do so; if not, take breath between. it all rests with the singer. memorizing "i learn words and music of a rôle at the same time, for one helps the other. when i have mastered a rôle, i know it absolutely, words, music and accompaniment. i can always play my accompaniments, for i understand the piano. i am always at work on repertoire, even at night. i don't seem to need very much sleep, i think, and i often memorize during the night; that is such a good time to work, for all is so quiet and still. i lie awake thinking of the music, and in this way i learn it. or, perhaps it learns itself. for when i retire the music is not yet mastered, not yet my own, but when morning comes i really know it. "of course i must know the words with great exactness, especially in songs. i shall do english songs in my coming song recital work, and the words and diction must be perfect, or people will criticize my english. i always write out the words of my rôles, so as to be sure i understand them and have them correctly memorized. keeping up repertoire "most singers, i believe, need a couple of days--sometimes longer--in which to review a rôle. i never use the notes or score when going over a part in which i have appeared, for i know them absolutely, so there is no occasion to use the notes. other singers appear frequently at rehearsal with their books, but i never take mine. my intimate knowledge of score, when i assisted my father in taking charge of operatic scores, is always a great help to me. i used to take charge of all the scores for him, and knew all the cuts, changes and just how they were to be used. the singers themselves often came to me for stage directions about their parts, knowing i had this experience. "yes, as you suggest, i could sing here in winter, then in south america in summer." (miss muzio accomplished this recently, with distinguished success and had many thrilling adventures incident to travel.) "this would mean i would have no summer at all, for that season with them is colder than we have it here. no, i want my summer for rest and study. during the season at the metropolitan i give up everything for my art. i refuse all society and the many invitations i receive to be guest of honor here and there. i remain quietly at home, steadfastly at work. my art means everything to me, and i must keep myself in the best condition possible, to be ready when the call comes to sing. one cannot do both, you know; art and society do not mix well. i have never disappointed an audience; it would be a great calamity to be obliged to do so." xvii =edward johnson= (=edouardo di giovanni=) the evoluton of an opera star the story of edward johnson's musical development should prove an incentive, nay more, a beacon light along the path of consistent progress toward the goal of vocal and operatic achievement. indeed as a tiny child he must have had the desire to become a singer. a friend speaks of musical proclivities which began to show themselves at an early age, and describes visits of the child to their home, where, in a little lord fauntleroy suit, he would stand up before them all and sing a whole recital of little songs, to the delight of all his relatives. the singer's progress, from the musical child on and up to that of an operatic artist, has been rational and healthy, with nothing hectic or overwrought about it; a constant, gradual ascent of the mountain. and while an enviable vantage ground has been reached, such an artist must feel there are yet other heights to conquer. for even excellence, already achieved, requires constant effort to be held at high water mark. and the desire for greater perfection, which every true artist must feel, is a never-ending urge to continued struggle. in a recent conversation with the tenor, mr. johnson spoke of early days, when he desired above everything else to become a musician and follow a musical career, though his family expected him to enter the business world. he came to new york to look the ground over, hoping there might be opportunity to continue his studies and make his way at the same time. he was fortunate enough to secure a church position, and sang subsequently in some of the best new york and brooklyn churches. after this period he did much concert work, touring through the middle west with the chicago symphony orchestra and singing in many music festivals throughout the country. [illustration: edward johnson] but church and concert singing did not entirely satisfy; he longed to try his hand at opera,--in short to make an operatic career. he was well aware that he would not find this field nor gain the necessary experience in america; he must go to italy, the land of song, to gain the required training and experience. he was also fully aware of the fact that there was plenty of hard work, and probably many disappointments before him, but he did not shrink from either. "fortunately, i have a fund of humor," he said, and there was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. "it is a saving grace, as you say; without it i believe i should have many times given up in sheer despair." mr. johnson went to italy in , beginning at once his studies with lombardi, in florence. in the ten years of his absence from his home land he has built up a reputation and made a career in the great operatic centers of italy, spain and south america. after his début in padua, he became leading tenor at la scala, milan, for five consecutive seasons. in rome he spent four seasons at the costanzi theater, in the meantime making two visits to the colon theater, buenos aires, and filling engagements in madrid, bologna, florence and genoa. "how could i stay away from america for such a length of time? you ask. for various reasons. i was getting what i had come to italy for, experience and reputation. i was comfortable and happy in my work. i loved the beautiful country, and the life suited me. the people were kind. i had my own home in florence, which is still there and to which i can return when my season is over here. best of all i had the opportunity of creating all the new tenor rôles in the recent operas of puccini, montemezzi, pizzetti and gratico. i also created the rôle of _parsifal_ in italian, and the first season at la scala, it was performed twenty-seven times." "with your permission let us go a little into detail in regard to the needs of the young singer and his method of study, so that he may acquire vocal mastery. what do you consider the most important and necessary subject for the young singer, or any one who wishes to enter the profession, to consider?" "a musical education," was the prompt, unhesitating reply. "so many think if they have a good natural voice and take singing lessons, that is quite sufficient; they will soon become singers. but a singer should also be a musician. he should learn the piano by all means and have some knowledge of theory and harmony. these subjects will be of the greatest benefit in developing his musicianship; indeed he cannot well get on without them. a beautiful voice with little musical education, is not of as much value to its possessor as one not so beautiful, which has been well trained and is coupled with solid musical attainments. a musical career "if one goes in for a musical career, one should realize at the start, something of what it means, what is involved, and what must go with it. singing itself is only a part, perhaps even the smaller part, of one's equipment. if opera be the goal, there are languages, acting, make up, impersonation, interpretation, how to walk, how to carry oneself, all to be added to the piano and harmony we have already spoken of. the art of the singer is a profession--yes, and a business too. you prepare yourself to fill a public demand; you must prove yourself worthy, you must come up to the standard, or there will not be a demand for what you have to offer. and it is right this should be so. we should be willing to look the situation fairly in the eye, divesting it of all those rose colored dreams and fancies; then we should get right down to work. not many rules "if you get right down to the bottom, there are in reality not so many singing rules to learn. you sing on the five vowels, and when you can do them loudly, softly, and with mezzo voce, you have a foundation upon which to build vocal mastery. and yet some people study eight, ten years without really laying the foundation. why should it take the singer such a long time to master the material of his equipment? a lawyer or doctor, after leaving college, devotes three or four years only to preparing himself for his profession, receives his diploma, then sets up in business. it ought not to be so much more difficult to learn to sing than to learn these other professions. the ear "of course the ear is the most important factor, our greatest ally. it helps us imitate. imitation forms a large part of our study. we hear a beautiful tone; we try to imitate it; we try in various ways, with various placements, until we succeed in producing the sound we have been seeking. then we endeavor to remember the sensations experienced in order that we may repeat the tone at will. so you see listening, imitation and memory are very important factors in the student's development. bel canto "i have just spoken of a beautiful tone. the old italian operas cultivate the _bel canto_, that is--beautiful singing. of course it is well for the singer to cultivate this first of all, for it is excellent, and necessary for the voice. but modern italian opera portrays the real men and women of to-day, who live, enjoy, suffer, are angry and repentant. _bel canto_ will not express these emotions. when a man is jealous or in a rage, he will not stand quietly in the middle of the stage and sing beautiful tones. he does not think of beautiful tones at all. hatred and jealousy should be expressed in the voice as well as in action and gesture; they are far from lovely in themselves, and to be natural and true to life, they will not make lovely tones in the voice. we want singing actors to-day, men and women who can adequately portray the characters they impersonate through both voice and action. learning a rÔle "in taking up a new part i vocalize the theme first, to get an idea of the music; then i learn the words. after this i work with the accompanist who comes to me every morning. of course, besides this, i do daily vocalizes and vocal exercises; one must always keep up one's vocal technic. "but learning words and music is only a part of the work to be done on a rôle. it must then be interpreted; more than this it must be visualized. this part of the work rests largely with the singer, and gives opportunity for his individuality to assert itself. of course the general idea of the characterization is given us, the make-up, posturing and so on. to work out these ideas, to make the part our own, to feel at home in it, so that it shall not seem like acting, but appear perfectly natural--all this takes a great deal of thought, time and study. it is all a mental process, as every one knows; we must project our thought out to the audience, we must 'get it over,' or it will never strike fire!" interpretation on the subject of individuality in interpretation, mr. johnson was convincing. "i feel that if i have worked out a characterization, i must stick to my idea, in spite of what others say. it is my own conception, and i must either stand or fall by it. at times i have tried to follow the suggestions of this or that critic and have changed my interpretation to suit their taste. but it always rendered me self conscious, made my work unnatural and caused me speedily to return to my own conception. learning by doing "the singer finds the stage a great teacher. before the footlights he has constant opportunity to try out this or that effect, to note which placement of the voice best fits the tones he wishes to produce. then, too, he soon learns to feel whether he has made the impression he had hoped, whether he has the audience with him. if he cannot win the audience, he takes careful thought to see why. in order to win his hearers, to get his work across the footlights, there are certain things he must have, virtues he must possess. for instance,"--and the artist counted them off on his finger tips,--"he must have accent, diction, characterization, and above all, sincerity. no matter what other good qualities he may possess, he must be sincere before anything else. if he lack this the audience soon finds it out. there's nothing that wins its way like the grace of sincerity. you see i give prominent place to accent and diction. whatever fault the critics found with me, they have always conceded to me both these virtues. "but time passes and soon the work of the night will begin. i trust that our informal conference may contain a few points of personal experience which may be helpful to those who are striving to enter the field of opera." and with his pleasant smile and genial greeting, mr. johnson closed the conference. xviii =reinald werrenrath= achieving success on the concert stage at the close of a recital by reinald werrenrath, the listener feels he has something to carry away, a tangible impression, a real message. what is the impression--can it be defined? perhaps it is more the complete effect as a whole that makes the deepest impression. the voice is always agreeable, the diction so clear and distinct that every syllable can be followed from the topmost corner of carnegie hall, so there is no need to print a program book for this singer. different qualities of voice render the picture or mood more vivid, and all is accomplished with perfect ease, in itself a charm. people settle in their seats as if certain that a song recital by werrenrath is sure to bring enjoyment and satisfaction. and mr. werrenrath has proven, through season after season of concert giving in america, that he is filling his own special niche in the scheme of the country's musical life; that he has his own message of the beautiful--the natural--in vocal art to deliver to the people all over the land, and he is accomplishing this with ever increasing ability and success. to go through a season filled with concert tours, such as a popular singer has laid out for him, means so many weeks and months of strenuous toil and travel. there may be a few brief hours or days here and there, when he can be at home among family and friends; but soon he is off again--"on the road." mr. werrenrath is the sort of singer who is generally on the wing, or if not exactly that, is so rushed with work, record making and rehearsing for occasional opera appearances, that it is very difficult to get a word with him. i was exceedingly fortunate however, one day recently, to catch a glimpse of him between a metropolitan rehearsal on the one hand, and some concert business on the other. he entered the room where i waited, tall, vigorous, his fine face lighted by a rapid walk in the fresh air; he seemed the embodiment of mental vigor and alertness. vocal control [illustration: reinald werrenrath] i plunged at once into the subject i had come for, telling him i wanted to know how he had worked to bring about such results as were noted in his recent recital in carnegie hall; in what way he had studied, and what, in his opinion, were the most important factors, from an educational point of view, for the young singer to consider. "that is entirely too difficult a question to be answered briefly, even in a half hour, or in an hour's talk. there are too many angles;" his clear gray eyes looked at me frankly as he spoke. "voice culture, voice mastery, what is it? it is having control of your instrument to such an extent that you put it out of your thought completely when you sing. the voice is your servant and must do your bidding. this control is arrived at through a variety of means, and can be considered from a thousand angles, any one of which would be interesting to follow up. i have been on the concert stage for nearly a score of years, and ought to know whereof i speak; yet i can say i have not learned it all even now, not by any means. vocal technic is something on which you are always working, something which is never completed, something which is constantly improving with your mental growth and experience--if you are working along the right lines. people talk of finishing their vocal technic; how can that ever be done? you are always learning how to do better. if you don't make the effect you expected to, in a certain place, when singing in public, you take thought of it afterward, consider what was the matter, _why_ you couldn't put it over--why it had no effect on the audience. then you work on it, learn how to correct and improve it. early experiences "as you may know, my father was a great singer; he was my first teacher. after i lost him i studied for several years with dr. carl duft and later with arthur mees. in all this time i had learned a great deal about music from the intellectual and emotional sides, music in the abstract and so on. in fact, i thought i knew about all there was to be learned about the art of song; i settled back on my oars and let the matter go at that. at last, however, i awoke to see that i didn't know it all yet; i discovered i couldn't put the feeling and emotion which surged within me across to others in the way i wanted to--in the way which could move and impress them; i could not make the effects i wanted; i was getting into a rut. this was seven years ago. at that time i went to percy rector stevens, who has done me an immense amount of good, and with whom i constantly keep in touch, in case there should be anything wrong with my instrument anywhere. mr. stevens understands the mechanics of the voice perhaps better than any one i know of. if i go to him and say: 'i made some tones last night that didn't sound right to me,' or 'i couldn't seem to put over this or that effect; i want you to tell me what is the matter.' he will say: 'sing for me, show me the trouble and we'll see what we can do for it.' so i sing and he will say: 'you are tightening your throat at that place,' or 'your diaphragm is not working properly,' or there is some other defect. he can always put his finger directly on the weak spot. he is my vocal doctor. your whole vocal apparatus must work together in entire harmony. we hear of teachers who seem to specialize on some one part of the anatomy to the exclusion of other parts. they are so particular about the diaphragm, for instance; that must be held with exactly the right firmness to support the tone. that is all very well; but what about the chest, the larynx, the throat, the head and all the rest of the anatomy? the truth is the whole trunk and head of the body are concerned in the act of tone production; they form the complete instrument, so to say. when the singer is well and strong and in good condition, all the parts respond and do their work easily and efficiently. daily practice "i do not go through a routine of scales and exercises daily--at least not in the season, for i have no time. if you are going to take your automobile out for a spin you don't ride it around for half an hour in the yard to see whether it will go. no, you first look after the machinery, to see if all is in working order, and then you start out, knowing it will go. i do a lot of gymnastics each day, to exercise the voice and limber up the anatomy. these act as a massage for the voice; they are in the nature of humming, mingled with grunts, calls, exclamations, shouts, and many kinds of sounds--indeed so many and various they cannot be enumerated. but they put the voice in condition, so there is no need for all these other exercises which most singers find so essential to their vocal well-being. i will say right here that i am working with two masters; the first for the mechanics of the voice, the second who helps me from quite an opposite angle--interpretation and finish. with maurel "the master from whom i have learned so much that it cannot be estimated is victor maurel. he is a most remarkable man, a great thinker and philosopher. if he had turned his attention to any other art or science, or if he had been but a day laborer, he would be a great man anywhere, in any capacity. "i have been with him, whenever possible, for two years now. he has shown me the philosophy, the psychology of singing. he has taught me the science of intense diction. by means of such diction, i can sing _mezza voce_, and put it over with less effort and much more artistic effect than i ever used to do, when i employed much more voice. you hear it said this or that person has a big voice and can sing with great power. a brass band can make a lot of noise. i have stood beside men, who in a smaller space, could make much more noise than i could. but when they got out on the stage you couldn't hear them at the back of the hall. it is the knowing how to use the voice with the least possible effort, coupled with the right kind of diction, that will make the greatest effect. now i can express myself, and deliver the message i feel i have to give. the singer before an audience "you ask if i hear myself, when i am singing for an audience. in a general way, yes. of course i do not get the full effect of what i am doing; a singer never does. it takes the records to tell me that, and i have been making records for a good number of years. but i know the sensations which accompany correct tone production, and if i feel they are different in any place or passage, i try to make a mental note of the fact and the passage, that i may correct it afterwards. but i must emphasize the point that when i sing, i cast away all thought of _how_ i do anything technical; i want to get away from the mechanics of the voice; i must keep my thought clear for the interpretation, for the message i have brought to the audience. to be constantly thinking--how am i doing this or that--would hamper me terribly. i should never get anywhere. i must have my vocal apparatus under such control that it goes of itself. a pianist does not think of technic when playing in public, neither should a singer think of his vocal technic. of course there may be occasions when adverse circumstances thrust conditions upon me. if i have a slight cold, or tightness of throat, i have to bring all my resources to bear, to rise above the seeming handicap, and sing as well as i can in spite of it. i can say gratefully, without any desire to boast, that during the past eleven years, i have never once missed an engagement or disappointed an audience. of course i have had to keep engagements when i did not feel in the mood, either physically or mentally. many singers would have refused under like conditions. but it does not seem fair to the audience to disappoint, or to the manager either; it puts him in a very difficult and unpleasant position. it seems to me the artist should be more considerate of both manager and audience, than to yield to a slight indisposition and so break his engagement. the singer in his studio "it makes such a difference--in quality of tone and in effect--whether you sing in a small or large space. things you do in the studio and which may sound well there, are quite different or are lost altogether in a large hall. you really cannot tell what the effect will be in a great space, by what you do in your studio. in rehearsing and study, i use half voice, and only occasionally do i use full voice, that is when i wish to get a better idea of the effect." vocal mastery as we stood at the close of the conference, i asked the supreme question--what do you understand by vocal mastery? the artist looked as though i were making an impossible demand in requiring an answer to so comprehensive a subject. he took a few strides and then came back. "i can answer that question with one word--disregard. which means, that if you have such control of your anatomy, such command of your vocal resources that they will always do their work, that they can be depended upon to act perfectly, then you can disregard mechanism, and think only of the interpretation--only of your vocal message. then you have conquered the material--then you have attained vocal mastery!" xix =sophie braslau= making a career in america a fact, often overlooked when considering the career of some of our great singers of to-day, is the fact that they started out to become an instrumentalist rather than a singer. in other words they become proficient on some instrument before taking up serious study of the voice. in this connection one thinks of mme. sembrich, who was both pianist and violinist before becoming known as a singer. it would be interesting to follow up this idea and enumerate the vocalists who have broadened their musicianship through the study of other instruments than their own voices. but this delightful task must be reserved for future leisure. for the present it can be set down here that miss sophie braslau, probably the youngest star in the constellation of the metropolitan artists, is an accomplished pianist, and intended to make her career with the aid of that instrument instead of with her voice. but we will let the young artist speak for herself. on the occasion in question, she had just returned from a walk, her arms full of rosebuds. "i never can resist flowers," she remarked, as she had them placed in a big silver vase. then she carried the visitor off to her own special rooms, whose windows overlooked an inner garden, where one forgot one was in the heart of new york. "indeed it is not like new york at all, rather like paris," said miss braslau, answering my thought. on a _chaise longue_ in this ivory and rose sanctum, reposed a big, beautiful doll, preserved from childish days. the singer took it up; "i don't play with it now," she said with a smile, "but i used to." she placed it carefully in a chair, then settled herself to talk. [illustration: sophie braslau] "yes, i intended to make the piano my instrument and began my studies at the age of six. before long it was seen that i had something of a voice, but no one gave it much thought, supposing i was to be a pianist; indeed i have the hand of one," holding it up. "i don't think, in those early years, i was so very anxious to become a player. i did not love scales--do not now, and would quite as soon have sat at the piano with a book in my lap, while my fingers mechanically did their stunts. but my mother looked after my practice, and often sat near me. she required a regular amount of time given to music study each day. i am so grateful that she was strict with me, for my knowledge of piano and its literature is the greatest joy to me now. to my thinking all children should have piano lessons; the cost is trifling compared to the benefits they receive. they should be made to study, whether they wish to or not. they are not prepared to judge what is good for them, and if they are given this advantage they will be glad of it later on. "in due time i entered the institute of musical art, taking the full piano course. arthur hochmann was my teacher for piano, and i found him an excellent master. he did a great deal for me; in interpretation, in fineness of detail, in artistic finish i owe him very much. later i studied several years with alexander lambert. "while at work with my piano, it grew more apparent that i had a voice that should be cultivated. so i began. afterwards i worked three years with signor buzzi peccia, who started me on an operatic career and finally brought me to the metropolitan. "it was a great ordeal for a young singer, almost a beginner, to start at our greatest opera house! it meant unremitting labor for me. i worked very hard, but i am not afraid of work. toscanini held sway when i began, and he was a marvelous musician and conductor. such exactness, such perfection of detail; he required perfection of every one. he did not at first realize how much of a beginner i was, though i had really learned a large number of rôles. he was so strict in every detail that i wept many bitter tears for fear i would not come up to the mark. i knew the music, but had not gained experience through routine. it seems to me every singer should gain this experience in some smaller places before attempting the highest. my advice would be to go and get experience in europe first. i have never been in germany, but in italy and france there are many small opera houses where one may learn routine. "another thing. there is a mistaken notion that one cannot reach any height in opera without 'pull' and great influence. i am sure this is not true; for while a pull may help, one must be able to deliver the goods. if one cannot, all the backing in the world will not make one a success. the singer must have the ability to 'put it over.' think of the artists who can do it--farrar, gluck, schumann-heink. there is never any doubt about them; they always win their audiences. what i have done has been accomplished by hard work, without backing of any kind. really of what use is backing anyway? the public can judge--or at least it can _feel_. i know very well that when my chance came to sing _shanewis_, if i had not been able to do it, no amount of influence would have helped the situation. i had it in my own hand to make or mar my career. i often wonder whether audiences really know anything about what you are trying to do; whether they have any conception of what is right in singing, or whether they are merely swayed by the temperament of the singer. "whether we are, or are not to be a musical nation should be a question of deep interest to all music lovers. if we really become a great musical people, it will be largely due to the work of the records. we certainly have wonderful advantages here, and are doing a tremendous lot for music. "i had an interesting experience recently. it was in a little town in north carolina, where a song recital had never before been given. can you fancy a place where there had never even been a concert? the people in this little town were busy producing tobacco and had never turned their thought toward music. in the face of the coming concert what did those people do? they got a program, studied what pieces i had sung on the victor, got the music of the others; so they had a pretty good idea of what i was going to sing. when i stepped on the platform that night and saw the little upright piano (no other instrument could be secured) and looked into those eager faces, i wondered how they would receive my work. my first number was an aria from _orfeo_. when i finished, the demonstration was so deafening i had to wait minutes before i could go on. and so it continued all the evening. "how do i work? very hard, at least six hours a day. of these i actually sing perhaps three hours. i begin at nine and give the first hour to memory work on repertoire. i give very thorough study to my programs; for i must know every note in them, both for voice and piano. i make it a point to know the accompaniments, for in case i am ever left without an accompanist, i can play for myself, and it has a great effect on audiences. they may not know or care whether you can play beethoven or chopin, but the fact that you can play while you sing, greatly impresses them. "in committing a song, i play it over and sing it sufficiently to get a good idea of its construction and meaning; then i work in detail, learning words and music at the same time, usually. certain things are very difficult for me, things requiring absolute evenness of passage work, or sustained calm. naturally i have an excess of temperament; i feel things in a vivid, passionate way. so i need to go very slowly at times. to-day i gave several hours to only three lines of an aria by haendel, and am not yet satisfied with it. indeed, can we ever rest satisfied, when there is so much to learn, and we can always improve? "the second hour of my day is given to vocalizes. of course there are certain standard things that one must do; but there are others that need not be done every day. i try to vary the work as much as i can. "the rest of the day is given to study on repertoire and all the things that belong to it. there is so much more to a singer's art than merely to sing. and it is a sad thing to find that so many singers lack musicianship. they seem to think if they can sing some songs, or even a few operas, that is all there is to it. but one who would become an artist must work most of the time. i am sure charles hackett knows the value of work; so does mabel garrison and many other americans. and when you think of it, there are really a brave number of our own singers who are not only making good, but making big names for themselves and winning the success that comes from a union of talent and industry." xx =morgan kingston= the spiritual side of the singer's art "a man who has risen to his present eminence through determined effort and hard work, who has done it all in america, is a unique figure in the world of art. he can surely give much valuable information to students, for he has been through so much himself." thus i was informed by one who was in a position to understand how morgan kingston had achieved success. the well known tenor was most kind in granting an audience to one seeking light on his ideas and experiences. he welcomed the visitor with simple, sincere courtesy, and discussed for an hour and a half various aspects of the singer's art. "in what way may i be of service to you?" began mr. kingston, after the first greetings had been exchanged. "there are many questions to ask," was the answer; "perhaps it were best to propound the most difficult one first, instead of reserving it till the last. what, in your opinion, goes into the acquiring of vocal mastery?" "that is certainly a difficult subject to take up, for vocal mastery includes so many things. first and foremost it includes vocal technic. one must have an excellent technic before one can hope to sing even moderately well. the singer can do nothing without technic, though of course there are many people who try to sing without it. they, however, never get anywhere when hampered by such a lack of equipment. technic furnishes the tools with which the singer creates his vocal art work; just as the painter's brushes enable him to paint his picture. rules of technic [illustration: morgan kingston] "i said the singer should have a finished technic in order to express the musical idea aright, in order to be an artist. but technic is never finished; it goes on developing and broadening as we ourselves grow and develop. we learn by degrees what to add on and what to take away, in our effort to perfect technic. students, especially in america, are too apt to depend on rules merely. they think if they absolutely follow the rules, they must necessarily become singers; if they find that you deviate from rule they tell you of it, and hold you up to the letter of the law, rather than its meaning and spirit. i answer, rules should be guides, not tyrants. rules are necessary in the beginning; later we get beyond them,--or rather we work out their spirit and are not hide-bound by the letter. early struggles "as you may know, i was born in nottinghamshire, england. i always sang, as a small boy, just for the love of it, never dreaming i would one day make it my profession. in those early days i sang in the little church where lord byron is buried. how many times i have walked over the slab which lies above his vault. when i was old enough i went to work in the mines, so you see i know what hardships the miners endure; i know what it means to be shut away from the sun for so many hours every day. and i would lighten their hardships in every way possible. i am sure, if it rested with me, to choose between having no coal unless i mined it myself, i would never dig a single particle. but this is aside from the subject in hand. "i always sang for the love of singing, and i had the hope that some day i could do some good with the gift which the good god had bestowed on me. then, one day, the opportunity came for me to sing in a concert in london. up to that time i had never had a vocal lesson in my life; my singing was purely a natural product. on this occasion i sang, evidently with some little success, for it was decided that very night that i should become a singer. means were provided for both lessons and living, and i now gave my whole time and attention toward fitting myself for my new calling. the lady who played my accompaniments at that concert became my teacher. and i can say, with gratitude to a kind providence, that i have never had, nor wished to have any other. when i hear young singers in america saying they have been to mr. s. to get his points, then they will go to mr. w. to learn his point of view, i realize afresh that my experience has been quite different and indeed unique; i am devoutly thankful it has been so. what the teacher should do for the student "my teacher made a study of me, of my characteristics, mentality and temperament. that should be the business of every real teacher, since each individual has different characteristics from every other. "it is now ten years since i began to study the art of singing. i came to america soon after the eventful night which changed my whole career; my teacher also came to this country. i had everything to learn; i could not even speak my own language; my speech was a dialect heard in that part of the country where i was brought up. i have had to cultivate and refine myself. i had to study other languages, italian, french and german. i learned them all in america. so you see there is no need for an american to go out of his own country for vocal instruction or languages; all can be learned right here at home. i am a living proof of this. what i have done others can do. the technical side "as for technical material, i have never used a great quantity. of course i do scales and vocalizes for a short time each day; such things are always kept up. then i make daily use of about a dozen exercises by rubini. beyond these i make technical studies out of the pieces. but, after one has made a certain amount of progress on the technical side, one must work for one's self--i mean one must work on one's moral nature. the moral side "i believe strongly that a singer cannot adequately express the beautiful and pure in music while cherishing at the same time, a bad heart and a mean nature behind it. singing is such a personal thing, that one's mentality, one's inner nature, is bound to reveal itself. each one of us has evil tendencies to grapple with, envy, jealousy, hatred, sensuality and all the rest of the evils we are apt to harbor. if we make no effort to control these natural tendencies, they will permanently injure us, as well as impair the voice, and vitiate the good we might do. i say it in all humility, but i am earnestly trying to conquer the errors in myself, so that i may be able to do some good with my voice. i have discovered people go to hear music when they want to be soothed and uplifted. if they desire to be amused and enjoy a good laugh, they go to light opera or vaudeville; if they want a soothing, quieting mental refreshment, they attend a concert, opera or oratorio. therefore i want to give them, when i sing, what they are in need of, what they are longing for. i want to have such control of myself that i shall be fitted to help and benefit every person in the audience who listens to me. until i have thus prepared myself, i am not doing my whole duty to myself, to my art or to my neighbor. "we hear about the petty envy and jealousy in the profession, and it is true they seem to be very real at times. picture two young women singing at a concert; one receives much attention and beautiful flowers, the other--none of these things. no doubt it is human nature, so-called, for the neglected one to feel horribly jealous of the favored one. now this feeling ought to be conquered, for i believe, if it is not, it will prevent the singer making beautiful, correct tones, or from voicing the beauty and exaltation of the music. we know that evil thoughts react on the body and result in diseases, which prevent the singer from reaching a high point of excellence. we must think right thoughts for these are the worth while things of life. singing teachers utterly fail to take the moral or metaphysical side into consideration in their teaching. they should do this and doubtless would, did they but realize what a large place right thinking occupies in the development of the singer. "one could name various artists who only consider their own self-aggrandizement; one is compelled to realize that, with such low aims, the artist is bound to fall short of highest achievement. it is our right attitude towards the best in life and the future, that is of real value to us. how often people greet you with the words: 'well, how is the world treating you to-day?' does any one ever say to you--'how are you treating the world to-day?' that is the real thing to consider. "as i said a few moments ago, i have studied ten years on vocal technic and repertoire. i have not ventured to say so before, but i say it to-night--i can sing! of course most of the operatic tenor rôles are in my repertoire. this season i am engaged for fourteen rôles at the metropolitan. these must be ready to sing on demand, that is at a moment's notice,--or say two hours' notice. that means some memory work as well as constant practice. "would i rather appear in opera, recital or oratorio? i like them all. a recital program must contain at least a dozen songs, which makes it as long as a leading operatic rôle. "the ten years just passed, filled as they have been with close study and public work, i consider in the light of preparation. the following ten years i hope to devote to becoming more widely known in various countries. and then--" a pleasant smile flitted over the fine, clean-cut features,--"then another ten years to make my fortune. but i hasten to assure you the monetary side is quite secondary to the great desire i have to do some good with the talent which has been given me. i realize more and more each day, that to develop the spiritual nature will mean happiness and success in this and in a future existence, and this is worth all the effort and striving it costs." xxi =frieda hempel= a lesson with a prima donna there is no need to say that frieda hempel is one of the most admired artists on the opera and concert stage to-day. every one knows the fact. miss hempel has endeared herself to all through her lovely voice, her use of it, her charm of manner and the sincerity of her art. [illustration: _photo by alfred chancy johnston_ frieda hempel] it is seven years since miss hempel first came to sing at the metropolitan. america has advanced very greatly in musical appreciation during this period. miss hempel herself has grown in artistic stature with each new character she has assumed. this season she has exchanged the opera field for that of the concert room, to the regret of opera patrons and all music lovers, who desired to see her at the metropolitan. being so constantly on the wing, it has been extremely difficult to secure a word with the admired artist. late one afternoon, however, toward the end of her very successful concert season, she was able to devote an hour to a conference with the writer on the principles of vocal art. how fair, slender and girlish she looked, ensconced among the cushions of a comfortable divan in her music room, with a favorite pet dog nestling at her side. "and you ask how to master the voice; it seems then, i am to give a vocal lesson," she began, with an arch smile, as she caressed the little creature beside her. breathing "the very first thing for the singer to consider is breath control; always the breathing--the breathing. she thinks of it morning, noon and night. even before rising in the morning, she has it on her mind, and may do a few little stunts while still reclining. then, before beginning her vocal technic in the morning, she goes through a series of breathing exercises. just what they are is unnecessary to indicate, as each teacher may have his own, or the singer has learned for herself what forms are most beneficial. vocal technic "the pianist before the public, or the player who hopes to master the instrument in the future, never thinks of omitting the daily task of scales and exercises; he knows that his chances for success would soon be impaired, even ruined, if he should neglect this important and necessary branch of study. "it is exactly the same thing with the singer. she cannot afford to do without scales and exercises. if she should, the public would soon find it out. she must be in constant practice in order to produce her tones with smoothness and purity; she must also think whether she is producing them with ease. there should never be any strain, no evidence of effort. voice production must always seem to be the easiest thing in the world. no audience likes to see painful effort in a singer's face or throat. vocal practice "the young singer should always practice with a mirror--do not forget that; she must look pleasant under all circumstances. no one cares to look at a singer who makes faces and grimaces, or scowls when she sings. this applies to any one, young or older. singing must always seem easy, pleasant, graceful, attractive, winning. this must be the mental concept, and, acted upon, the singer will thus win her audience. i do not mean that one should cultivate a grin when singing; that would be going to the other extreme. "let the singer also use a watch when she practices, in order not to overdo. i approve of a good deal of technical study, taken in small doses of ten to fifteen minutes at a time. i myself do about two hours or more, though not all technic; but i make these pauses for rest, so that i am not fatigued. after all, while we must have technic, there is so much more to singing than its technic. technic is indeed a means to an end, more in the art of song than in almost any other form of art. technic is the background for expressive singing, and to sing expressively is what every one should be striving for. what it means to be a singer "a beautiful voice is a gift from heaven, but the cultivation of it rests with its possessor. here in america, girls do not realize the amount of labor and sacrifice involved, or they might not be so eager to enter upon a career. they are too much taken up with teas, parties and social functions to have sufficient time to devote to vocal study and all that goes with it. there are many other things to study; some piano if possible, languages of course, physical culture and acting, to make the body supple and graceful. i say some piano should be included, at least enough to play accompaniments at sight. but when she has mastered her song or rôle, she needs an accompanist, for she can never play the music as it should be played while she endeavors to interpret the song as that should be sung. one cannot do complete justice to both at the same time. "in order to study all the subjects required, the girl with a voice must be willing to give most of her day to the work. this means sacrificing the social side and being willing to throw herself heart and soul into the business of adequately preparing for her career. american voices "i find there are quantities of lovely voices here in america. the quality of the american female voice is beautiful; in no country is it finer, not even in italy. you have good teachers here, too. then why are there so few american singers who are properly prepared for a career? why do we hear of so few who make good and amount to something? if the girl has means and good social connections, she is often not ready to sacrifice social gayeties for the austere life of the student. if she is a poor girl, she frequently cannot afford to take up the subjects necessary for her higher development. instruction is expensive here, and training for opera almost impossible. the operatic coach requires a goodly fee for his services. and when the girl has prepared several rôles where shall she find the opportunity to try them out? inexperienced singers cannot be accepted at the metropolitan; that is not the place for them. at the prices charged for seats the management cannot afford to engage any but the very best artists. until there are more opera houses throughout the country, the american girl will still be obliged to go to europe for experience and routine. in europe it is all so much easier. every little city and town has its own opera house, where regular performances are given and where young singers can try their wings and gain experience. the conductor will often help and coach the singer and never expect a fee for it. the young singer before an audience "the singer who wishes to make a career in concert, should constantly study to do things easily and gracefully. she is gracious in manner, and sings to the people as though it gave her personal pleasure to stand before them. she has a happy expression of countenance; she is simple, unaffected and sincere. more than all this her singing must be filled with sentiment and soul; it must be deeply felt or it will not touch others. of what use will be the most elaborate technic in the world if there is no soul back of it. so the young singer cultivates this power of expression, which grows with constant effort. the artist has learned to share her gift of song with her audience, and sings straight across into the hearts of her listeners. the less experienced singer profits by her example. "shall the singer carry her music in a song recital, is a much discussed question. many come on with nothing in hand. what then happens? the hands are clasped in supplication, as though praying for help. this attitude becomes somewhat harrowing when held for a whole program. other singers toy with chain or fan, movements which may be very inappropriate to the sentiment of the song they are singing. for myself i prefer to hold in hand a small book containing the words of my songs, for it seems to be more graceful and jess obtrusive than the other ways i have mentioned. i never refer to this little book, as i know the words of my songs backward; i could rise in the middle of the night and go through the program without a glance at words or music, so thoroughly do i know what i am singing. therefore i do not need the book of words, but i shall always carry it, no matter what the critics may say. and why should not the executive artist reassure himself by having his music with him? it seems to me a pianist would feel so much more certain of himself if he had the notes before him; he of course need not look at them, but their presence would take away the fear that is often an obsession. with the notes at hand he could let himself go, give free reign to fancy, without the terrible anxiety he must often feel. opera or concert "people often ask whether i prefer to sing in opera or concert. i always answer, i love both. i enjoy opera for many reasons; i love the concert work, and i am also very fond of oratorio. of course in the opera i am necessarily restrained; i can never be frieda hempel, i must always be some one else; i must always think of the others who are playing with me. in concert i can be myself and express myself. i get near the people; they are my friends and i am theirs. i am much in spirit with oratorio also. coloratura or dramatic "do i think the coloratura voice will ever become dramatic? it depends on the quality of the voice. i think every dramatic singer should cultivate coloratura to some extent--should study smooth legato scales and passages. to listen to some of the dramatic rôles of to-day, one would think that smooth legato singing was a lost art. nothing can take its place, however, and singers should realize this fact." miss hempel believes that every singer, no matter how great, should realize the advantage of constant advice from a capable teacher, in order to prevent the forming of undesirable habits. she also considers vocal mastery implies the perfection of everything connected with singing; that is to say, perfect breath control, perfect placement of the voice, perfect tone production, together with all requisite grace, feeling and expressiveness. with the master teachers xxii =david bispham= the making of artist singers if we were asked to name one of the best known, and best loved of american singers, the choice would surely fall on david bispham. this artist, through his vocal, linguistic and histrionic gifts, his serious aims and high ideals, has endeared himself to musicians and music lovers alike. we are all proud of him as an american, and take a sort of personal pride in his achievements. mr. bispham has been before the public as actor-singer for many years. there is no other artist in the english-speaking world who has had greater experience in all kinds of vocal work than this "quaker singer," as he calls himself, for he comes from philadelphia, and is of old english, quaker, colonial stock. his professional début was made in london, in , with the royal english opera company, as the duc de longueville, in the beautiful opera comique, _the basoche_, by messager. the following year he appeared in wagnerian music drama at the royal opera, covent garden, performing the part of kurwenal, in _tristan and isolde_, without rehearsal. his adaptability to music in english, french, italian and german, caused him to be at once accepted as a member of that distinguished company. in , mr. bispham joined the forces of the metropolitan opera house, new york, and remained there for a number of years, singing each season alternately on both sides of the ocean. of recent years he has devoted most of his time to concerts, though he is one of the founders and officers of the society of american singers, with which artistic body he frequently appears in the classic operas of mozart, pergolesi, donizetti and others. my first conference with mr. bispham was held in his new york studio. here, in this artistic retreat where absolute quiet reigns, though located in the heart of the great city's busy life, the noted singer teaches and works out his programs and various characterizations. the problem of breath control "the singer should breathe as easily and naturally as animals and people do when they sleep," he began. "but we are awake when we sing; correct breath control, therefore, must be carefully studied, and is the result of understanding and experience. the best art conceals art. the aim is to produce tones with the utmost ease and naturalness, though these must be gained with patient toil. a child patting the keyboard with his tiny hands, is _unconsciously_ natural and at ease, though he does not know what he is doing; the great pianist is _consciously_ at ease because he understands principles of ease and relaxation, and has acquired the necessary control through years of training. "the singer acquires management of the breath through correct position and action of his anatomy. the body is held erect, chest active; the network of abdominal muscles constantly gain strength as they learn to push, push, push the air up through the lungs to the windpipe, then through the mouth and nasal cavities." mr. bispham illustrated each point in his own person as he described it. "when the manner of taking breath, and the way to develop the diaphragm and abdominal muscles, is understood, that is only a beginning. management of the breath is an art in itself. the singer must know what to do with the breath once he has taken it in, or he may let it out in quarts the moment he opens his mouth. he has to learn how much he needs for each phrase. he learns how to conserve the breath; and while it is not desirable to hold one tone to attenuation, that the gallery may gasp with astonishment, as some singers do, yet it is well to learn to do all one conveniently can with one inhalation, provided the phrase permits it. technical material "i give many vocalizes and exercises, which i invent to fit the needs of each pupil. i do not require them to be written down, simply remembered. at the next lesson quite a different set of exercises may be recommended. i also make exercises out of familiar tunes or themes from operatic airs. it will be found that technical material in the various manuals is often chosen from such sources, so why not use them in their original form. thus while the student is studying technic he is also acquiring much beautiful material, which will be of great value to him later on. the study of repertoire "repertoire is a wide subject and offers a fascinating study to the vocal student. he must have both imagination and sentiment, also the ability to portray, through movement and facial expression, the various moods and states of feeling indicated by words and music. "in taking up a new rôle, i read the story to get at the kernel or plot, and see what it means. the composer first saw the words of poem or libretto, and these suggested to him suitable music. so the singer begins his work by carefully reading the words. "i then have the music of the whole work played for me on the piano, so as to discover its trend and meaning--its content. if the composer is available i ask him to do this. i next begin to study my own part in detail, not only the important sections but the little bits, which seem so small, but are often so difficult to remember." characterization under this head the singer spoke at length of the difficulty some singers encounter when they endeavor to portray character, or differentiate emotions. there is endless scope in this line, to exercise intelligence and imagination. "some singers," continued the artist, "seem incapable of characterizing a rôle or song. they can do what i call 'flat work,' but cannot individualize a rôle. a singer may have a beautiful voice yet not be temperamental; he may have no gift for acting, nor be able to do character work. "at the present moment i am preparing several new rôles, three of them are of old men. it rests with me to externalize these three in such a way that they shall all be different, yet consistent with the characters as i understand them. each make-up must be distinctive, and my work is to portray the parts as i see and feel them. i must get into the skin of each character, so to say, then act as i conceive that particular person would behave under like circumstances. many singers cannot act, and most actors cannot sing. when the two are combined we have a singing actor, or an actor-singer. once there was a popular belief that it was not necessary for the singer to know much about acting--if he only had a voice and could sing. the present is changing all that. many of us realize how very much study is required to perfect this side of our art. "in this connection i am reminded of my london début. i was to make it with the royal english opera company. they heard me three times before deciding to take me on. with this formality over, rehearsals began. i soon found that my ideas of how my rôle--an important one--was to be acted, did not always coincide with the views of the stage director, and there were ructions. the manager saw how things were going, and advised me to accept seemingly the ideas of the stage director during rehearsals, but to study acting with the highest authorities and then work out the conception after my own ideas. accordingly, i spent an hour daily, before the morning rehearsal, with one of the finest actors of comedy to be found in london. later in the day, after rehearsal, i spent another hour with a great tragic actor. thus i worked in both lines, as my part was a mixture of the tragic and the comic. i put in several weeks of very hard work in this way, and felt i had gained greatly. of course this was entirely on the histrionic side, but it gives an idea of the preparation one needs. "when the day of the dress rehearsal arrived, i appeared on the scene in full regalia, clean shaven (i had been wearing a beard until then), and performed my rôle as i had conceived it, regardless of the peculiar ideas of the stage director. at the first performance i made a hit, and a little later was engaged for grand opera at covent garden, where i remained for ten years. knowledge of anatomy "while i believe in understanding one's anatomy sufficiently for proper tone production, and all that goes with it, there are many peculiar and unnecessary fads and tricks resorted to by those who call themselves teachers of singing. the more fantastic the theories inculcated by these people, the more the unwary students seem to believe in them. people like to be deluded, you know. but i am not able to gratify their desires in this direction; for i can't lie about music! "i was present at a vocal lesson given by one of these so-called instructors. 'you must sing in such a way that the tone will seem to come out of the back of your head,' he told the pupil, and he waved his arms about his head as though he were drawing the tone out visibly. another pupil was placed flat on his back, then told to breathe as though he were asleep, and then had to sing in that position. another teacher i know of makes pupils eject spit-balls of tissue paper at the ceiling, to learn the alleged proper control of the breath. what criminal nonsense this is! "as i have said, i believe in knowing what is necessary about anatomy, but not in too great measure. a new book will soon be issued, i am told, which actually dissects the human body, showing every bone and muscle in any way connected with breath or voice. all this may be of interest as a matter of research, but must one go into such minutiae in order to teach singing? i think the answer must ever be in the negative. you might as well talk to a gold-fish in a bowl-and say: 'if you desire to proceed laterally to the right, kindly oscillate gently your sinister dorsal fin, and you will achieve the desired result.' oh, art, what sins are committed in thy name!" in the studio it is often affirmed that an artist finds experience the best teacher. it must be equally true that the artist-teacher of wide experience in both performance and instruction, should be a safe guide, just because of this varied experience. i was impressed with this fact when i recently had the privilege of visiting mr. bispham's studio during lesson hours, and listening to his instruction. a most interesting sanctum is this studio, filled as it is with souvenirs and pictures of the artist's long career on the operatic stage. here hangs a drawing in color of bispham as telramund, in shining chain armor; there a life-size portrait as "beethoven," and again as himself. in the midst of all is the master, seated at a table. in front of him, at the piano, stands the student. it is an english song she is at work on, for mr. bispham thoroughly believes in mastering english as well as other languages. how alert he is as he sits there; how keen of eye and ear. not the slightest fault escapes him. he often sings the phrase himself, then calls for its repetition. "sing that passage again; there is a tone in it that is not pleasant--not well-sounding; make it beautiful!" "careful of your consonants there, they are not distinct; let them be clearer, but don't make them over distinct." "don't scoop up the ends of the phrases; make the tones this way"; and he illustrates repeatedly. "sing this phrase in one breath if you can, if not, breathe here--" indicating the place. the student now takes up an italian aria. of course the master teacher has no need of printed score; he knows the arias by heart. he merely jots down a few remarks on a slip of paper, to be referred to later. the aria goes quite well. at its close the singer goes to her seat and another takes her place. a voice of rich, warm timbre. more english--and it must be most exact, to suit mr. bispham's fastidious ear. "make the word _fire_ in _one_ syllable, not _two_. do not open the mouth quite so wide on the word _desire_, for, by doing so you lose the balance and the tone is not so good." vocalizes another student--with a fine tenor--was asked to vocalize for a number of minutes. he sang ascending and descending tone-figures, sometimes doing them in one breath, at others taking a fresh breath at top. some of the syllables used were: la, ma, may, and mi. he then sang single tones, swelling and diminishing each. it was found that passing from _forte_ to _piano_ was much more difficult than swelling from soft to loud. the aria "be not afraid," was now taken up; it was pronounced one of the most difficult solos ever written, and a very valuable composition for vocal training. "you sing that phrase too loud," cautioned the instructor. "this is not a human being who is speaking, rather it is a heavenly voice. that high note of the phrase should be made softer, more ethereal. make it a _young tone_--put the quality of spring into it. the whole thing should be more spiritual or spiritualized. now go through it again from beginning to end." when this was finished a halt was called; there had been enough work done for that day. soon the class was dismissed. the young singers--some if not all of them known upon the concert stage--filed out. one young woman remained; she was to have a drama lesson. the master of singing showed himself equally efficient as master of english diction for the spoken drama. and here, for a time, we must leave him at his work. xxiii oscar saenger use of records in vocal study mr. oscar saenger has been termed "maker of artists," since a number of our great singers have come from under his capable hands. he has a rare gift for imparting instruction in a way that is concise and convincing. a man of wide experience, profound knowledge of his subject, commanding personality and winning courtesy, he impresses all who come within his radius that he knows whereof he speaks. a man who "knows what he knows" is one to be followed. mr. saenger had just returned from a season of travel over america as far as the coast. a most profitable trip he called it, filled with many interesting and unique experiences. he had been lecturing also, in a number of cities, on his new method of vocal study with the aid of the victor talking machine. when he learned i had come expressly to ask for his ideas on vocal technic and study, he said: "i think you will be interested to hear about my latest hobby, the study of singing with the aid of records." then he plunged at once into the most absorbingly interesting account of his ideas and achievements in this line i had ever listened to. teacher, artist and accompanist in one "this is my own idea, of combining the teacher, artist and accompanist in one trinity," he began. "and, by the way, my idea is now patented in washington. it is the result of nine years' thought and labor, before the idea could be brought out in its finished form. the design has been to make the method and its elucidation so simple that the girl from a small town can understand it. "the method consists of twenty lessons for each of the five kinds of voices: soprano, mezzo-soprano, tenor, baritone and bass. each portfolio holds twenty records, together with a book containing minute directions for studying and using the records. i believe that any one, with good intelligence, who wishes to learn to sing, can take the book and records and begin his studies, even though he has never sung before. he can thus prepare himself for future lessons. for you must understand this method is not meant to replace the teacher, but to aid the teacher. i can assure you it aids him in ways without number. it gives him a perfect exemplar to illustrate his principles. if he be fatigued, or unable to sing the passage in question, here is an artist who is never wearied, who is always ready to do it for him. i myself constantly use the records in my lessons. if i have taught a number of consecutive hours, it is a relief to turn to the artist's record and save my own voice. simplicity "as i have said, the design has been to make everything plain and simple. i wrote the book and sent it to the victor people. they returned it, saying i had written an excellent book, but it was not simple enough. they proposed sending a man to me who was neither a musician nor a singer. if i could make my meaning clear enough for him to understand, it was likely the girl from a little western town could grasp it. "so this man came and we worked together. if i talked about head tones, he wanted to know what i meant; if about throaty tones, i had to make these clear to him. when he understood, i was sure any one could understand. "thus the books as they stand came into being. the records themselves represent an immense amount of care and effort. will you believe we had to make over two thousand in order to secure the one hundred needed for the present series? the slightest imperfection is enough to render an otherwise perfect record useless. even the artists themselves would sometimes become discouraged at the enormous difficulties. it is nerve-racking work, for one must be on tension all the time. imitation a fundamental principle "if you are interested, i will go a little more into detail. the main idea of this unique method of study, is imitation. every human being likes to imitate--from the tiny child to the adult. acting upon this idea, we take the artist as model. everything the model does, the student strives to imitate. by means of the record, it is possible for the student to do this over and over again, until he has learned to copy it as accurately as it is possible. and here is where the knowledge and experience of the teacher come in. during the lesson he tests each tone, each phrase, advising the pupil how nearly he approaches the perfect model, or showing him his faults and why he does not succeed in imitating the model more correctly." for beginners "do you mean to say, mr. saenger, that this method of vocal study can be taken up by one who knows really nothing of the voice, or singing, and can be used with success; that such a person can become a singer through self-study?" "it is indeed possible," was the answer; "and it is being done every day. if the student has much intelligence, determination and concentration, she can learn to sing from these directions and these records. they are a great boon to young aspirants in small towns, where there are really no good teachers. in such places local teachers can study and teach from these records. "again, you often find people too shy, or too ashamed to go to a teacher for a voice trial or lessons. they want to sing--every one would like to do that; but they don't know how to go at it. with these records they can begin to study, and thus get ready for later lessons. with these records those who are far from a music center can have the benefit of expert instruction at small cost. i might work with a pupil for several months in the ordinary way--without the records--and not be able to teach him even with half the accuracy and quickness obtainable by the new method. the accompanist "all singers know how important, how necessary it is to have services of an expert accompanist. the student of this method has one at hand every hour of the day; a tireless accompanist, who is willing to repeat without complaint, as often as necessary. the speaking voice "a very important branch of the work, for the would-be singer, is to cultivate the speaking voice. tones in speaking should always be made beautiful and resonant. even in children a pleasant quality of voice in speaking can be acquired. mothers and teachers can be trained to know and produce beautiful tones. the ear must be cultivated to know a pure, beautiful tone and to love it. breathing exercises "the management of the breath is a most important factor, as the life of the tone depends on the continuance of the breath. the student must cultivate the power of quickly inhaling a full breath and of exhaling it so gradually that she can sing a phrase lasting from ten to twenty seconds. this needs months of arduous practice. in all breathing, inhale through the nose. the lower jaw during singing should be entirely relaxed. "the tone should be focused just back of the upper front teeth. the way to place the tone forward is to _think_ it forward. the student must think the tone into place. "to 'attack' a tone is to sing it at once, without any scooping, and with free open throat. when the throat is tightened the student loses power to attack her tones in the right way. phrasing "phrasing, in a limited sense, is simply musical punctuation. in its broader sense it is almost synonymous with interpretation. for it has to do not only with musical punctuation but with the grouping of tones and words in such a way that the composition is rendered intelligible as a whole, so as to express the ideas of the composer. this is where the intellectual and musical qualities of the singer are brought into requisition. she must grasp the content, whether it be song or aria, in order to effect this grouping intelligently. _accent, crescendo_ and _diminuendo_ are the most important factors in phrasing. from the very beginning the student should be careful how and where she takes breath and gives accent; there must always be a reason, and thought will generally make the reason clear. tone production "the first thing to be considered is the position of the body; for beauty of tone cannot be obtained unless all efforts harmonize to produce the desired result. an easy, graceful, buoyant position is essential; it can be cultivated in front of a mirror, from the first lesson. "tone production is the result of thought. picture to yourself a beautiful tone; sing it on the vowel ah. if you stood in rapture before an entrancing scene you would exclaim, ah, how beautiful. producing a beautiful tone rests on certain conditions. first, breath control; second, freedom of throat; third, correct focus of tone. "we know that a stiff jaw and tongue are the greatest hindrances to the emission of good tone. muscles of chin and tongue must be trained to become relaxed and flexible. do not stiffen the jaw or protrude the chin, else your appearance will be painful and your tones faulty. "to think the tone forward is quite as important as to sing it forward. without the mental impression of correct placing, the reality cannot exist. it is much better to think the tone forward for five minutes and sing one minute, than to practice the reverse. one should practice in fifteen-minute periods and rest at least ten minutes between. the student should never sing more than two hours a day--one in the morning and one in the afternoon. as most singers love their work, many are inclined to overdo. "do not tamper with the two or three extreme upper or lower tones of your voice lest you strain and ruin it permanently. never practice when suffering from a cold. "ideal attack is the tone which starts without any scooping, breathiness or explosiveness. breathe noiselessly, the secret of which is to breathe from down, up. faulty emissions of tone are: nasal, guttural, throaty and tremulous. i will give you examples of all these from the record no. , which will show you first the fault and then the perfect example. if the pupil studies these perfect emissions of tone and tries to imitate them, there is no need for her to have the common faults mentioned. sustained tones "the next step is to study sustained tones. as you see the artist begins in the middle of her voice--always the best way--and sings a whole tone on a, with the syllable ah, always waiting a whole measure for the pupil to imitate the tone. next she sings a flat and so on down to lower a, the pupil imitating each tone. she now returns to middle a and ascends by half steps to e natural, the pupil copying each tone after it is sung by the artist. "the tone should be free, round and full, but not loud, and the aim be to preserve the same quality throughout. do not throw or push the tone, _but spin it_. uniting several tones "we first begin by uniting two tones, smoothly and evenly, then three in the same way. after each pair or group of tones, the accompaniment is repeated and the pupil imitates what the artist has just sung. now comes the uniting of five tones, up and down; after this the scale of one octave. the scale should be sung easily with moderate tone quality. a slight accent can be given to the first and last tones of the scale. we all realize the scale is one of the most important exercises for the building of the voice; the preceding exercises have prepared for it. arpeggios "for imparting flexibility to the voice, nothing can exceed the arpeggio, but like all vocal exercises, it must be produced with precision of tone, singing each interval clearly, with careful intonation, always striving for beauty of tone. "there are various forms of arpeggios to be used. the second form is carried a third above the octave; the third form a fifth above. this makes an exercise which employs every tone in the scale save one, and gives practice in rapid breathing. remember, that the note before, taking breath is slightly shortened, in order to give time for taking breath, without disturbing the rhythm. the trill "the trill is perhaps the most difficult of all vocal exercises, unless the singer is blessed with a natural trill, which is a rare gift. we begin with quarter notes, then add eighths and sixteenths. this exercise, if practiced daily, will produce the desired result. it is taken on each tone of the voice--trilling in major seconds. vocalizes "the purpose of vocalizes is to place and fix the voice accurately and to develop taste, while singing rhythmically and elegantly. the records give some concone exercises, ably interpreted by one of our best known voices. you hear how even and beautiful are the tones sung, and you note the pauses of four measures between each phrase, to allow the student to repeat the phrase, as before. "i firmly believe this method of study is bound to revolutionize vocal study and teaching. you see it goes to the very foundation, and trains the student to imitate the best models. it even goes farther back, to the children, teaching them how to speak and sing correctly, always making beautiful tones, without harshness or shouting. young children can learn to sing tones and phrases from the records. furthermore, i believe the time is coming when the _technic and interpretation of every instrument will be taught in this way_. "it is my intention to follow up this set of foundational records by others which will demonstrate the interpretation of songs and arias as they are sung by our greatest artists. the outlook is almost limitless. "and now, do you think i have answered your questions about tone production, breath control and the rest? perhaps i have, as convincingly as an hour's talk can do." xxiv =herbert witherspoon= memory, imagination, analysis no doubt the serious teacher, who may be occupied in any branch of musical activity, has often pictured to himself what an ideal institution of musical art might be like, if all students assembled should study thoroughly their particular instrument, together with all that pertained to it. they should by all means possess talent, intelligence, industry, and be far removed from a superficial attitude toward their chosen field. the studio used for instruction in this imagined institution, should also be ideal, quiet, airy, home-like, artistic. some such vision perhaps floats before the minds of some of us teachers, when we are in the mood to dream of ideal conditions under which we would like to see our art work conducted. it has been possible for mr. herbert witherspoon, the distinguished basso and teacher, to make such a dream-picture come true. for he has established an institution of vocal art--in effect if not in name--where all the subjects connected with singing, are considered and taught in the order of their significance. not less ideal is the building which contains these studios, for mr. witherspoon has fitted up his private home as a true abiding place for the muse. at the close of a busy day, marked like all the rest with a full complement of lessons, the master teacher was willing to relax a little and speak of the work in which he is so deeply absorbed. he apologized for having run over the time of the last lesson, saying he never could teach by the clock. "i do not like to call this a school," he began, "although it amounts to one in reality, but only in so far as we take up the various subjects connected with vocal study. i consider languages of the highest importance; we have them taught here. there are classes in analysis, in pedagogy--teaching teachers how to instruct others. we have an excellent master for acting and for stage deportment: i advise that students know something of acting, even if they do not expect to go in for opera; they learn how to carry themselves and are more graceful and self-possessed before an audience. "the work has developed far beyond my expectations. there are over two hundred students, and i have eight assistants, who have been trained by me and know my ways and methods. some of these give practice lessons to students, who alternate them with the lessons given by me. these lessons are quite reasonable, and in combination with my work, give the student daily attention. "my plan is not to accept every applicant who comes, but to select the most promising. the applicants must measure up to a certain standard before they can enter. to this one fact is due much of our success." "and what are these requirements?" "voice, to begin with; youth (unless the idea is to teach), good looks, musical intelligence, application. if the candidate possesses these requisites, we begin to work. in three months' time it can be seen whether the student is making sufficient progress to come up to our standard. those who do not are weeded out. you can readily see that as a result of this weeding process, we have some very good material and fine voices to work with. "we have many musicals and recitals, both public and private, where young singers have an opportunity to try their wings. there is a most generous, unselfish spirit among the students; they rejoice in each others' success, with never a hint of jealousy. we have had a number of recitals in both aeolian and carnegie halls, given by the artist students this season. on these occasions the other students always attend and take as much interest as though they were giving the recital themselves." bel canto "you have remarked lately that 'singers are realizing that the lost art of _bel canto_ is the thing to strive for and they are now searching for it.' can you give a little more light on this point?" "i hardly meant to say that in any sense the art of bel canto was lost; how could it be? many singers seem to attach some uncanny significance to the term. bel canto means simply _beautiful singing_. when you have perfect breath control, and distinct, artistic enunciation, you will possess bel canto, because you will produce your tones and your words beautifully. "because these magic words are in the italian tongue does not mean that they apply to something only possessed by italians. not at all. any one can sing beautifully who does so with ease and naturalness, the american just as well as those of any other countries. in fact i consider american voices, in general, better trained than those of italy, germany or france. the italian, in particular, has very little knowledge of the scientific side; he usually sings by intuition. "we ought to have our own standards in judging american voices; until we do so, we will be constantly comparing them with the voices of foreign singers. the quality of the american voice is different from the quality found in the voices of other countries. to my mind the best women's voices are found right here in our midst. memory "i have also said that there are three great factors which should form the foundation stones upon which the singer should rear his structure of musical achievement. these factors are memory, imagination, analysis. i have put memory first because it is the whole thing, so to say. the singer without memory--a cultivated memory--does not get far. memory lies at the very foundation of his work, and must continue with it the whole journey through, from the bottom to the top. in the beginning you think a beautiful tone, you try to reproduce it. when you come to it again you must remember just how you did it before. each time you repeat the tone this effort of memory comes in, until at last it has become second nature to remember and produce the result; you now begin to do so automatically. "as you advance there are words to remember as well as notes and tones. memory, of course, is just as necessary for the pianist. he must be able to commit large numbers of notes, phrases and passages. in his case there are a number of keys to grasp at once, but the singer can sing but one tone at a time. both notes and words should be memorized, so the singer can come before the audience without being confined to the printed page. when acting is added there is still more to remember. back of memory study lies concentration; without concentration little can be accomplished in any branch of art. imagination "the central factor is imagination; what can be done without it! can you think of a musician, especially a singer, without imagination? he may acquire the letter--that is, execute the notes correctly, but the performance is dead, without life or soul. with imagination he comprehends what is the inner meaning of the text, the scene; also what the composer had in mind when he wrote. then he learns to express these emotions in his own voice and action, through the imaginative power, which will color his tones, influence his action, render his portrayal instinct with life. imagination in some form is generally inherent in all of us. if it lies dormant, it can be cultivated and brought to bear upon the singer's work. this is absolutely essential. analysis "i have put analysis last because it is the crowning virtue, the prime necessity. we study analysis here in the studios, learning how to separate music into its component parts, together with simple chord formations, general form and structure of the pieces, and so on. can you comprehend the dense ignorance of many music students on these subjects? they will come here to me, never having analyzed a bit of music in their lives, having not an inkling of what chord structure and form in music mean. if they played piano even a little, they could hardly escape getting a small notion of chord formation. but frequently vocal students know nothing of the piano. they are too apt to be superficial. it is an age of superficiality--and cramming: we see these evils all the way from the college man down. i am a yale man and don't like to say anything about college government, yet i cannot shut my eyes to the fact that men may spend four years going through college and yet not be educated when they come out. most of us are in too much of a hurry, and so fail to take time enough to learn things thoroughly; above all we never stop to analyze. "analysis should begin at the very outset of our vocal or instrumental study. we analyze the notes of the music we are singing, and a little later its form. we analyze the ideas of the composer and also our own thoughts and ideas, to try and bring them in harmony with his. after analyzing the passage before us, we may see it in a totally different light, and so phrase and deliver it with an entirely different idea from what we might have done without this intelligent study." conscious or unconscious control "do you advise conscious action of the parts comprising the vocal instrument, or do you prefer unconscious control of the instrument, with thought directed to the ideal quality in tone production and delivery?" was asked. "by all means unconscious control," was the emphatic answer. "we wish to produce beautiful sounds; if the throat is open, the breathing correct, and we have a mental concept of that beautiful sound, we are bound to produce it. it might be almost impossible to produce correct tones if we thought constantly about every muscle in action. there is a great deal of nonsense talked and written about the diaphragm, vocal chords and other parts of the anatomy. it is all right for the teacher who wishes to be thoroughly trained, to know everything there is to know about the various organs and muscles; i would not discourage this. but for the young singer i consider it unnecessary. think supremely of the beautiful tones you desire to produce; listen for them with the outer ear--and the inner ear--that is to say--mentally--and you will hear them. meanwhile, control is becoming more and more habitual, until it approaches perfection and at last becomes automatic. when that point is reached, your sound producing instrument does the deed, while your whole attention is fixed on the interpretation of a master work, the performance of which requires your undivided application. if there is action, you control that in the same way until it also becomes automatic; then both singing and acting are spontaneous." does the singer hear himself? this question was put to mr. witherspoon, who answered: "the singer of course hears himself, and with study learns to hear himself better. in fact i believe the lack of this part of vocal training is one of the greatest faults of the day, and that the singer should depend more upon hearing the sound he makes than upon feeling the sound. in other words, train the _ear_, the court of ultimate resort, and the only judge--and forget sensation as much as possible, for the latter leads to a million confusions. "undoubtedly a singer hears in his own voice what his auditors do not hear, for he also hears with his inner ear, but the singer must learn to hear his own voice as others hear it, which he can do perfectly well. here we come to analysis again. "the phonograph records teach us much in this respect, although i never have considered that the phonograph reproduces the human voice. it comes near it in some cases, utterly fails in others, and the best singers do not always make the best or most faithful reproductions." xxv =yeatman griffith= causation "the causation of beautiful singing can only be found through a pure and velvety production of the voice, and this is acquired in no other way than by a thorough understanding of what constitutes a perfect beginning--that is the attack or start of the tone. if the tone has a perfect beginning it must surely have a perfect ending." thus mr. yeatman griffith began a conference on the subject of vocal technic and the art of song. he had had a day crowded to the brim with work--although all days were usually alike filled--yet he seemed as fresh and unwearied as though the day had only just begun. one felt that here was a man who takes true satisfaction in his work of imparting to others; his work is evidently not a tiresome task but a real joy. mrs. griffith shares this joy of work with her husband. "it is most ideal," she says; "we have so grown into it together; we love it." as is well known, this artist pair returned to their home land at the outbreak of the war, after having resided and taught for five years in london, and previous to that for one year in florence, italy. of course they were both singers, giving recitals together, like the henschels, and appearing in concert and oratorio. but constant public activity is incompatible with a large teaching practice. one or the other has to suffer. "we chose to do the teaching and sacrifice our public career," said mr. griffith. during the five years in which these artists have resided in new york, they have accomplished much; their influence has been an artistic impulse toward the ideals of beautiful singing. among their many artist pupils who are making names for themselves, it may be mentioned that florence macbeth, a charming coloratura soprano, owes much of her success to their careful guidance. "michael angelo has said," continued mr. griffith, "that 'a perfect start is our first and greatest assurance of a perfect finish.' and nowhere is this precept more truly exemplified than in vocal tone production. the tone must have the right beginning, then it will be right all through. a faulty beginning is to blame for most of the vocal faults and sins of singers. our country is full of beautiful natural voices; through lack of understanding many of them, even when devoting time and money to study, never become more than mediocre, when they might have developed into really glorious voices if they had only had the right kind of treatment. tone placement "we hear a great deal about tone placement in these days; the world seems to have gone mad over the idea. but it is an erroneous idea. how futile to attempt to place the tone in any particular spot in the anatomy. you can focus the tone, but you cannot place it. there is but one place for it to come from and no other place. it is either emitted with artistic effect or it is not. if not, then there is stiffness and contraction, and the trouble ought to be remedied at once. "every one agrees that if the vocal instrument were something we could see, our task would be comparatively easy. it is because the instrument is hidden that so many false theories about it have sprung up. one teacher advocates a high, active chest; therefore the chest is held high and rigid, while the abdominal muscles are deprived of the strength they should have. another advises throwing the abdomen forward; still another squares the shoulders and stiffens the neck. these things do not aid in breath control in the least; on the contrary they induce rigidity which is fatal to easy, natural tone emission. in the beginning "when the pupil comes to me, we at once establish natural, easy conditions of body and an understanding of the causes which produce good tone. we then begin to work on the vowels. they are the backbone of good singing. when they become controlled, they are then preceded by consonants. take the first vowel, a; it can be preceded by all the consonants of the alphabet one after another, then each vowel in turn can be treated in the same way. we now have syllables; the next step is to use words. here is where difficulties sometimes arise for the student. the word becomes perfectly easy to sing if vowels and consonants are properly produced. when they are not, words become obstacles. correct understanding will quickly obviate this. breath control "breath control is indeed a vital need, but it should not be made a bugbear to be greatly feared. the young student imagines he must inflate the lungs almost to bursting, in order that he may take a breath long enough to sing a phrase. then, as soon as he opens his lips, he allows half the air he has taken in to escape, before he has uttered a sound. with such a beginning he can only gasp a few notes of the phrase. or he distends the muscles at the waist to the fullest extent and fancies this is the secret of deep breathing. in short, most students make the breathing and breath control a very difficult matter indeed, when it is, or should be an act most easy and natural. they do not need the large quantity of breath they imagine they do; for a much smaller amount will suffice to do the work. i tell them, 'inhale simply and naturally, as though you inhaled the fragrance of a flower. and when you open your lips after this full natural breath, do not let the breath escape; the vocal chords will make the tone, if you understand how to make a perfect start. if the action is correct, the vocal chords will meet; they will not be held apart nor will they crowd each other. allow the diaphragm and respiratory muscles to do their work, never forcing them; then you will soon learn what breath control in singing means. remember again, not a particle of breath should be allowed to escape. every other part of the apparatus must be permitted to do its work, otherwise there will be interference somewhere.' causation "everything pertaining to the study of vocal technic and the art of singing may be summed up in the one word--causation. a cause underlies every effect. if you do not secure the quality of tone you desire, there must be a reason for it. you evidently do not understand the cause which will produce the effect. that is the reason why singers possessing really beautiful voices produce uneven effects and variable results. they may sing a phrase quite perfectly at one moment. a short time after they may repeat the same phrase in quite a different way and not at all perfectly. one night they will sing very beautifully; the next night you might hardly recognize the voice, so changed would be its quality. this would not be the case if they understood causation. a student, rightly taught, should know the cause for everything he does, how he does thus and so and why he does it. a singer should be able to produce the voice correctly, no matter in what position the rôle he may be singing may require the head or body to be in. in opera the head or body may be placed in difficult unnatural positions, but these should not interfere with good tone production. registers "i am asked sometimes if i teach registers of the voice. i can say decidedly no, i do not teach registers. the voice should be one and entire, from top to bottom, and should be produced as such, no matter in what part of the voice you sing. throughout the voice the same instrument is doing the work. so, too, with voices of different caliber, the coloratura, lyric and dramatic. each and all of these may feel the dramatic spirit of the part, but the lighter quality of the voice may prevent the coloratura from expressing it. the world recognizes the dramatic singer in the size of the voice and of the person. from an artistic point of view, however, there are two ways of looking at the question, since the lyric voice may have vivid dramatic instincts, and may be able to bring them out with equal or even greater intensity than the purely dramatic organ. vocal mastery "vocal mastery is acquired through correct understanding of what constitutes pure vowel sounds, and such control of the breath as will enable one to convert every atom of breath into singing tone. this establishes correct action of the vocal chords and puts the singer in possession of the various tints of the voice. "when the diaphragm and respiratory muscles support the breath sufficiently and the vocal chords are permitted to do their work, you produce pure tone. many singers do not understand these two vital principles. they either sing with too much relaxation of the diaphragm and respiratory muscles, or too much rigidity. consequently the effort becomes local instead of constitutional, which renders the tone hard and strident and variable to pitch. again the vocal chords are either forced apart or pinched together, with detriment to tone production. "the real value of control is lost when we attempt to control the singing instrument and the breath by seeking a place for the tone the singing instrument produces. when the vocal chords are allowed to produce pure vowels, correct action is the result and with proper breath support, vocal mastery can be assured." xxvi =j.h. duval= some secrets of beautiful singing a young french girl had just sung a group of songs in her own language and had won acclaim from the distinguished company present. they admired the rich quality of her voice, her easy, spontaneous tone production and clear diction. a brilliant future was predicted for the young singer. one critic of renown remarked: "it is a long time since i have heard a voice so well placed and trained." "and who is your teacher?" she was asked. "it is mr. duval; i owe everything to him. he has really made my voice; i have never had another teacher and all my success will be due to him," she answered. we at once expressed a desire to meet mr. duval and hear from his own lips how such results were attained. a meeting was easily arranged and we arrived at the appointed hour, just in time to hear one of the brilliant students of this american-french singing master. mr. duval is young, slim and lithe of figure, with sensitive, refined features, which grow very animated as he speaks. he has a rich fund of humor and an intensity of utterance that at once arrests the listener. he came forward to greet the visitor with simple cordiality, saying he was pleased we could hear one of his latest "finds." the young tenor was at work on an air from _tosca_. his rich, vibrant voice, of large power and range and of real caruso-like quality, poured forth with free and natural emission. with what painstaking care this wise teacher aided him to mold each tone, each phrase, till it attained the desired effect. being a singer himself, mr. duval is able to show and demonstrate as well as explain. he does both with the utmost clearness and with unfailing interest and enthusiasm. indeed his interest in each pupil in his charge is unstinted. the lesson over, mr. duval came over to us. "there is a singer i shall be proud of," he said. "several years ago i taught him for a few months, giving him the principles of voice placement and tone production. this was in europe. i had not seen him since then till recently, when circumstances led him to new york. he never forgot what he had previously learned with me. he now has a lesson every day and is a most industrious worker. i believe he has a fortune in that voice. next season will see him launched, and he will surely make a sensation." "will you give some idea of the means by which you accomplish such results?" "the means are very simple and natural. so many students are set on the wrong track by being told to do a multitude of things that are unnecessary, even positively harmful. for instance, they are required to sing scales on the vowels, a, e, i, o, u. i only use the vowel ah, for exercises, finding the others are not needed, especially excluding e and u as injurious. indeed one of the worst things a young voice can do is to sing scales on e and u, for these contract the muscles of the lips. another injurious custom is to sing long, sustained tones in the beginning. this i do not permit. "after telling you the things i forbid, i must enlighten you as to our plan of study. "the secret of correct tone emission is entire relaxation of the lips. i tell the pupil, the beginner, at the first lesson, to sing the vowel ah as loudly and as deeply as possible, thinking constantly of relaxed lips and loose lower jaw. ah is the most natural vowel and was used exclusively in the old italian school of bel canto. long sustained tones are too difficult. one should sing medium fast scales at first. if we begin with the long sustained tone, the young singer is sure to hold the voice in his throat, or if he lets go, a tremolo will result. either a throaty, stiff tone or a tremolo will result from practicing the single sustained tone. "singing pianissimo in the beginning is another fallacy. this is one of the most difficult accomplishments and should be reserved for a later period of development. "the young singer adds to scales various intervals, sung twice in a breath, beginning, not at the extreme of the lower voice, but carried up as high as he can comfortably reach. i believe in teaching high tones early, and in showing the pupil how to produce the head voice. not that i am a high tone specialist," he added smiling, "for i do not sacrifice any part of the voice to secure the upper notes. but after all it is the high portion of the voice that requires the most study, and that is where so many singers fail. "the young student practices these first exercises, and others, two half hours daily, at least two hours after eating, and comes to me three times a week. i suggest she rest one day in each week, during which she need not sing at all, but studies other subjects connected with her art. as the weeks go by, the voice, through relaxed lips and throat and careful training, grows richer and more plentiful. one can almost note its development from day to day. words in the voice "when the time comes to use words, the important thing is to put _the words in the voice, not the voice in the words_, to quote juliani, the great teacher, with whom i was associated in paris. more voices have been ruined by the stiff, exaggerated use of the lips in pronouncing, than in any other way. when we put the words in the voice, in an easy, natural way, we have bel canto. "another thing absolutely necessary is breath support. hold up the breath high in the body, for high tones, though always with the throat relaxed. this point is not nearly enough insisted upon by teachers of singing. "the points i have mentioned already prove that a vocal teacher who desires the best results in his work with others, must know how to sing himself; he should have had wide experience in concert and opera before attempting to lead others along these difficult paths. because a man can play the organ and piano and has accompanied singers is not the slightest cause for thinking he can train voices in the art of song. i have no wish to speak against so-called teachers of singing, but say this in the interests of unsuspecting students. "it is impossible," continued mr. duval, "to put the whole method of vocal training into a few sentences. the student advances gradually and naturally, but surely, from the beginnings i have indicated, to the trill, the pizzicati, to more rapid scales, to learning the attack, and so on. of course diction plays a large part in the singer's development. with the first song the student learns to put other vowels in the same voice with which the exercises on ah have been sung, and to have them all of the same size, easily and loosely pronounced. never permit the pronunciation to be too broad for the voice. the pronunciation should never be mouthed, but should flow into the stream of the breath without causing a ripple. this is bel canto! "in teaching i advise two pupils sharing the hour, for while one is singing the other can rest the voice and observe what is being taught. it is too fatiguing to a young voice to expect it to work a full half hour without rest. "i was teaching in my paris studio for a number of months after the war started, before coming to america. it is my intention, in future, to divide my time between new york and paris. i like teaching in the french capital for the reason i can bring out my pupils in opera there. i am also pleased to teach in my own land, for the pleasant connections i have made here, and for the fresh, young american voices which come to me to be trained." vocal mastery "what is vocal mastery? there are so many kinds! every great artist has his own peculiar manner of accomplishing results--his own vocal mastery. patti had one kind, maurel another, lehmann still another. caruso also may be considered to have his own vocal mastery, inasmuch as he commands a vocal technic which enables him to interpret any rôle that lies within his power and range. the greatest singer of to-day, shalyapin, has also his individual vocal mastery, closely resembling the sort that enabled maurel to run such a gamut of emotions with such astonishing command and resource. "in fine, as every great artist is different from his compeers, there can be no fixed and fast standard of vocal mastery, except the mastery of doing a great thing convincingly." xxvii =the coda= a resumÉ the student, seeking light on the many problems of vocal technic, the training for concert and opera, how to get started in the profession, and kindred subjects of vital importance, has doubtless found, in the foregoing talks a rich fund of help and suggestion. it is from such high sources that a few words of personal experience and advice, have often proved to be to the young singer a beacon light, showing what to avoid and what to follow. it were well to gather up these strands of suggestion from great artists and weave them into a strong bulwark of precept and example, so that the student may be kept within the narrow path of sound doctrine and high endeavor. at the very outset, two points must be borne in mind: . each and every voice and mentality is individual. . the artist has become a law unto himself; it is not possible for him to make rules for others. first, as to difference in voices. when it is considered that the human instrument, unlike any fabricated by the hand of man, is a purely personal instrument, subject to endless variation through variety in formation of mouth and throat cavities, also physical conditions of the anatomy, it is no cause for wonder that the human instrument should differ in each individual. then think of all sorts and conditions of mentality, environment, ambitions and ideals. it is a self evident fact that the vocal instrument must be a part of each person, of whom there are "no two alike." artists in general have strongly expressed themselves on this point: most of them agree with galli-curci, when she says: "there are as many kinds of voices as there are persons; therefore it seems to me each voice should be treated in the manner best suited to its possessor." "singing is such an individual thing, after all," says anna case; "it is a part of one's very self." "each person has a different mentality and a different kind of voice," says martinelli; "indeed there are as many qualities of voice as there are people." granting, then, that there are no two voices and personalities in the world, exactly alike, it follows, as a natural conclusion, that the renowned vocalist, who has won his or her way from the beginning up to fame and fortune, realizes that her instrument and her manner of training and handling it are peculiarly personal. as she has won success through certain means and methods, she considers those means belong to her, in the sense that they especially suit her particular instrument. she is then a law unto herself and is unwilling to lay down any laws for others. geraldine farrar does not imply there is only one right way to train the voice, and she has found that way. in speaking of her method of study, she says: "these things seem best for my voice, and this is the way i work. but, since each voice is different, my ways might not suit any one else. i have no desire to lay down rules for others; i can only speak of my own experience." galli-curci says: "the singer who understands her business must know just how she produces tones and vocal effects. she can then do them at all times, even under adverse circumstances, when nervous or not in the mood. i have developed the voice and trained it in the way that seemed to me best for it. how can any other person tell you how that is to be done?" "it rests with the singer what she will do with her voice--how she will develop it," remarks mme. homer. martinelli says: "the voice is a hidden instrument and eventually its fate must rest with its possessor. after general principles are understood, a singer must work them out according to his ability." florence easton remarks: "each singer who has risen, who has found herself, knows by what path she climbed, but the path she found might not do for another." instead of considering this reticence on the part of the successful singer, to explain the ways and means which enabled him to reach success, in the light of a selfish withholding of advice which would benefit the young student, we rather look upon it as a worthy and conscientious desire not to lead any one into paths which might not be best for his or her instrument. in the beginning the student needs advice from an expert master, and is greatly benefited by knowing how the great singers have achieved. later on, when principles have become thoroughly understood, the young singers learn what is best for their own voices; they, too, become a law unto themselves, capable of continuing the development of their own voices in the manner best suited to this most individual of all instruments. american voices we often hear slighting things said of the quality of american voices, especially the speaking voice. they are frequently compared to the beauty of european voices, to the disparagement of those of our own country. remembering the obloquy cast upon the american voice, it is a pleasure to record the views of some of the great singers on this point. "there are quantities of girls in america with good voices, good looks and a love for music," asserts mme. easton. mme. hempel says: "i find there are quantities of lovely voices here in america. the quality of the american female voice is beautiful; in no country is it finer, not even in italy." herbert witherspoon, who has such wonderful experience in training voices, states: "we ought to have our own standards in judging american voices; until we do so, we will be constantly comparing them with the voices of foreign singers. the quality of the american voice is different from the quality found in the voices of other countries. to my mind, the best women's voices are found right here in our midst." and he adds: "any one can sing beautifully who does so with ease and naturalness, the american just as well as those of any other country. in fact i consider american voices, in general, better trained than those of italy, germany or france. the italian, in particular, has very little knowledge of the scientific side; he usually sings by intuition." american voice teachers if this be accepted, that american voices are better trained than those of other countries, and there is no reason to doubt the statement of masters of such standing, it follows there must be competent instructors in the art of song right in our own land. mme. easton agrees with this. "there are plenty of good vocal teachers in america," she says, "not only in new york city, but in other large cities of this great country. there is always the problem, however, of securing just the right kind of a teacher. for a teacher may be excellent for one voice but not for another." morgan kingston asserts: "there is no need for an american to go out of his own country for vocal instruction or languages; all can be learned right here at home. i am a living proof of this. what i have done others can do." "you have excellent vocal teachers right here in america," says mme. hempel. then she marvels, that with all these advantages at her door, there are not more american girls who make good. she lays it to the fact that our girls try to combine a social life with their musical studies, to the great detriment of the latter. are american vocal students superficial? it is doubtless a great temptation to the american girl who possesses a voice and good looks, who is a favorite socially, to neglect her studies at times, for social gaiety. she is in such haste to make something of herself, to get where she can earn a little with her voice; yet by yielding to other calls she defeats the very purpose for which she is striving by a lowered ideal of her art. let us see how the artists and teachers view this state of things. lehmann says: "the trouble with american girls is they are always in a hurry. they are not content to sit down quietly and study till they have developed themselves into something before they ever think of coming to europe. they think if they can only come over here and sing for an artist, that fact alone will give them prestige in america. with us american girls are too often looked upon as superficial because they come over here quite unprepared. i say to them: go home and study; there are plenty of good teachers of voice and piano in your own land. then, when you can _sing_, come here if you wish." frieda hempel speaks from close observation when she says: "here in america, girls do not realize the amount of labor and sacrifice involved, or they might not be so eager to enter upon a musical career. they are too much taken up with teas, parties, and social functions to have sufficient time to devote to vocal study and to all that goes with it. in order to study all the subjects required, the girl with a voice must be willing to give most of her day to work. this means sacrificing the social side, and being willing to throw herself heart and soul into the business of adequately preparing herself for her career." the vocal student must not be afraid to work in the words of caruso's message to vocal students, they must be willing "to work--to work always--and to sacrifice." but geraldine farrar does not consider this in the light of sacrifice. her message to the young singer is: "stick to your work and study systematically, whole-heartedly. if you do not love your work enough to give it your best thought, to make sacrifices for it, then there is something wrong with you. better choose some other line of work, to which you can give undivided attention and devotion. for music requires both. as for sacrifices, they really do not exist, if they promote the thing you honestly love most. you must never stop studying, for there is always so much to learn." "i have developed my voice through arduous toil," to quote mme. galli-curci. raisa says: "one cannot expect to succeed in the profession of music without giving one's best time and thought to the work of vocal training and all the other subjects that go with it. a man in business gives his day, or the most of it, to his office. my time is devoted to my art, and indeed i have not any too much time to study all the necessary sides of it." "i am always studying, always striving to improve what i have already learned and trying to acquire the things i find difficult, or have not yet attained to," testifies mme. homer. the requirements for a vocal career those who have been through the necessary drudgery and struggle and have won out, should be able to give an authoritative answer to this all important question. they know what they started with, what any singer must possess at the beginning, and what she must acquire. naturally the singer must have a voice, for there is no use trying to cultivate something which does not exist. all artists subscribe to this. they also affirm she should have good looks, a love for music and a musical nature. let us hear from mme. homer on this subject. " . voice, first of all. . intelligence; for intelligence controls, directs, shines through and illumines everything. what can be done without it? . musical nature. . capacity for work. without application, the gifts of voice, intelligence and a musical nature will not make an artist. . a cheerful optimism, which refuses to yield to discouragement. . patience. it is only with patient striving, doing the daily vocal task, and trying to do it each day a little better than the day before, that anything worth while is accomplished. the student must have unlimited patience to labor and wait for results." mr. witherspoon states, that students coming to him must possess "voice, to begin with; youth, good looks, musical intelligence and application. if the candidate possess these requisites, we begin to work." anna case answers the question as to the vital requisites necessary to become a singer: "brains, personality, voice." quotations could be multiplied to prove that all artists fully concur with those already mentioned. there must be a promising voice to cultivate, youth, good looks, (for a public career) and the utmost devotion to work. what branches of study must be taken up? all agree there are many other subjects to study besides singing; that alone is far from sufficient. edward johnson says: "singing itself is only a part, perhaps the smaller part of one's equipment. if opera be the goal, there are languages, acting, make up, impersonation, interpretation, how to walk, all to be added to piano, harmony and languages. the most important of all is a musical education." most of the great singers have emphatically expressed themselves in favor of piano study. indeed, many were pianists in the beginning, before they began to develop the voice. among those who had this training are: galli-curci, lehmann, raisa, d'alvarez, barrientos, braslau, case. miss braslau says: "i am so grateful for my knowledge of the piano and its literature; it is the greatest help to me now. to my thinking all children should have piano lessons; the cost is trifling compared with the benefits they receive. they should be made to study, whether they wish it or not, for they do not know what is best for them." mme. raisa says: "there are so many sides to the singer's equipment besides singing itself. the piano is a necessity; the singer is greatly handicapped without a knowledge of that instrument, for it not only provides accompaniment but cultivates musical sense." "the vocal student should study piano as well as languages," asserts mme. homer; "both are the essentials. not that she need strive to become a pianist; that would not be possible if she is destined to be a singer. but the more she knows of the piano and its literature, the more this will cultivate her musical sense and develop her taste." florence easton is even more emphatic. "if a girl is fond of music, let her first study the piano, for a knowledge of the piano and its music is at the bottom of everything. all children should have this opportunity, whether they desire it or not. the child who early begins to study piano, will often unconsciously follow the melody with her voice. thus the love of song is awakened in her, and a little later it is discovered she has a voice worth cultivating." on the subject of languages, artists are equally specific. languages are an absolute necessity, beginning with one's mother tongue. the student should not imagine that because he is born to the english language, it does not require careful study. galli-curci remarks: "the singer can always be considered fortunate who has been brought up to more than one language. i learned spanish and italian at home. in school i learned french, german and english, not only a little smattering of each, but how to write and speak them." rosa raisa speaks eight languages, according to her personal statement. russian, of course, as she is russian, then french, italian, german, spanish, polish, roumanian and english. "the duty is laid upon americans to study other languages, if they expect to sing," says florence easton. "i know how often this study is neglected by the student. it is only another phase of that haste which is characteristic of the young student and singer." breath control following the subject of requirements for a vocal career, let us get right down to the technical side, and review the ideas of artists on breath control, how to practice, what are the necessary exercises, what vowels should be used, and so on. all admit that the subject of breath control is perhaps the most important of all. lehmann says: "i practice many breathing exercises without using tone. breath becomes voice through effort of will and by use of vocal organs. when singing, emit the smallest quantity of breath. vocal chords are breath regulators; relieve them of all overwork." mme. galli-curci remarks: "perhaps, in vocal mastery, the greatest factor of all is the breathing. to control the breath is what each student is striving to learn, what every singer endeavors to perfect, what every artist should master. it is an almost endless study and an individual one, because each organism and mentality is different." marguerite d'alvarez: "in handling and training the voice, breathing is perhaps the most vital thing to be considered. to some breath control seems second nature; others must toil for it. with me it is intuition. breathing is such an individual thing. with each person it is different, for no two people breathe in just the same way." claudia muzio: "every singer knows how important is the management of breath. i always hold up the chest, taking as deep breaths as i can conveniently. the power to hold the breath and sing more and more tones with one breath, grows with careful, intelligent practice." frieda hempel: "the very first thing for a singer to consider is breath control--always the breathing, the breathing. she thinks of it morning, noon and night. even before rising in the morning she has it on her mind, and may do a few little stunts while still reclining. then, before beginning vocal technic in the morning, she goes through a series of breathing exercises." david bispham: "correct breath control must be carefully studied and is the result of understanding and experience. when the manner of taking breath and the way to develop the diaphragm and abdominal muscles, is understood, that is only a beginning. management of the breath is an art in itself. the singer must know what to do with the breath once he has taken it in, or he may let it out in quarts when he opens his mouth. he learns how much he needs for each phrase; he learns how to conserve the breath." oscar saenger: "the management of the breath is a most important factor, as the life of the tone depends on a continuance of the breath. the student must cultivate the power of quickly inhaling a full breath, and exhaling it so gradually that she can sing a phrase lasting from ten to twenty seconds. this needs months of arduous practice. in all breathing, inhale through the nose." yeatman griffith: "breath control is indeed a vital need, but should not be made a bugbear to be greatly feared. most students make breathing and breath control a difficult matter, when it should be a natural and easy act. they do not need the large amount of breath they imagine they do, for a much smaller quantity will suffice. when you open the lips after a full, natural breath, do not let the breath escape; the vocal chords will make the tone, if you understand how to make a perfect start." specific exercises great singers are chary of giving out vocal exercises which they have discovered, evolved, or have used so constantly as to consider them a part of their own personal equipment, for reasons stated earlier in this chapter. however, a few artists have indicated certain forms which they use. mme. d'alvarez remarks: "when i begin to study in the morning, i give the voice what i call a massage. this consists of humming exercises, with closed lips. humming is the sunshine of the voice. one exercise is a short figure of four consecutive notes of the diatonic scale, ascending and descending several times; on each repetition of the group of phrases, the new set begins on the next higher note of the scale. this exercise brings the tone fully forward." lehmann counsels the young voice to begin in the middle and work both ways. begin single tones piano, make a long crescendo and return to piano. another exercise employs two connecting half tones, using one or two vowels. during practice stand before a mirror. raisa assures us she works at technic every day. "vocalizes, scales, broken thirds, long, slow tones in mezza di voce--that is beginning softly, swelling to loud, then diminuendo to soft, are part of the daily régime." farrar works on scales and single tones daily. muzio says: "i sing all the scales, one octave each, once slow and once fast--all in one breath. then i sing triplets on each tone, as many as i can in one breath. another exercise is to take one tone softly, then go to the octave above; this tone is always sung softly, but there is a large crescendo between the two soft tones." kingston says: "as for technical material, i have never used a great quantity. i do scales and vocalizes each day. i also make daily use of about a dozen exercises by rubini. beyond these i make technical exercises out of the pieces." de luca sings scales in full power, then each tone alone, softly, then swelling to full strength and dying away. bispham: "i give many vocalizes and exercises, which i invent to fit the need of each student. they are not written down, simply remembered. i also make exercises out of familiar tunes or themes from opera. thus, while the student is studying technic, he is acquiring much beautiful material." oscar saenger: "we begin by uniting two tones smoothly and evenly, then three in the same way; afterwards four and five. then the scale of one octave. arpeggios are also most important. the trill is the most difficult of all vocal exercises. we begin with quarter notes, then eighths and sixteenths. the trill is taken on each tone of the voice, in major seconds." werrenrath: "i do a lot of gymnastics each day, to exercise the voice and limber up the anatomy. these act as a massage for the voice; they are in the nature of humming, mingled with grunts, calls, exclamations, shouts, and many kinds of sounds. they put the voice in condition, so there is no need for all these other exercises which most singers find so essential to their vocal well being." duval asserts: "long, sustained tones are too difficult for the young voice. one should sing medium fast scales at first." length of time for daily practice it may be helpful to know about how much time the artists devote to daily study, especially to technical practice. it is understood all great singers work on vocalizes and technical material daily. caruso is a constant worker. two or three hours in the forenoon, and several more later in the day, whenever possible. farrar devotes between one and two hours daily to vocalizes, scales and tone study, lehmann counsels one hour daily on technic. galli-curci gives a half hour or so to vocalizes and scales every morning. martinelli practices exercises and vocalizes one hour each morning; then another hour on repertoire. in the afternoon an hour more--three hours daily. easton says: "it seems to me a young singer should not practice more than an hour a day, at most, beginning with two periods of fifteen or twenty minutes each." anna case says: "i never practice when i am tired, for then it does more harm than good. one must be in good condition to make good tones. i can study and not sing at all, for the work is all mental anyway." muzio states she gives practically her whole day to study, dividing it into short periods, with rest between. frieda hempel says: "i do about two hours or more, though not all of this for technic. i approve of a good deal of technical study, taken in small doses of ten to fifteen minutes at a time. technic is a means to an end, more in the art of song than in almost any other form of art. technic is the background of expressive singing." sophie braslau is an incessant worker,--"at least six hours a day. of these i actually sing three hours. the first hour to memory work on repertoire. the second hour to vocalizes. the rest of the time is given to repertoire and the things that belong to it." barrientos states she gives about three-quarters of an hour to vocal technic--scales and exercises--each day. duval advises the young student to practice two half hours daily, two hours after eating, and rest the voice one day each week, during which she studies other subjects connected with her art. oscar saenger says: "one should practice in fifteen-minute periods, and rest at least ten minutes between. sing only two hours a day, one in the morning and one in afternoon." what vowels to use there seems a divergence of opinion as to what vowels are most beneficial in technical practice and study. galli-curci says: "in my own study i use them all, though some are more valuable than others. the ah is the most difficult of all. the o is good; e needs great care. i have found the best way is to use mixed vowels, one melting into the other. the tone can be started with each vowel in turn, then mingled with the rest of the vowels." mme. d'alvarez often starts the tone with ah, which melts into o and later changes to u, as the tone dies away. bispham has the student use various vowel syllables, as: lah, mah, may, and mi. with oscar saenger the pupil in early stages at least, uses ah for vocalizes. duval requires students to use the vowel ah, for exercises and scales, finding the others are not needed, especially excluding e and u as injurious. griffith uses each vowel in turn, preceded by all the consonants of the alphabet, one after another. half or full voice? shall the young singer practice with half or full voice seems a matter depending on one's individual attainments. de luca uses full power during practice, while raisa sings softly, or with medium, tone, during study hours, except occasionally when she wishes to try out certain effects. martinelli states he always practices with full voice, as with half voice he would not derive the needed benefit. mme. easton admits she does not, as a rule, use full voice when at work; but adds, this admission might prove injurious to the young singer, for half voice might result in faulty tone production. anna case says when at work on a song in her music room, she sings it with the same power as she would before an audience. she has not two ways of doing it, one for a small room and another for a large one. mr. duval advises the young pupil to sing tones as loudly and deeply as possible. singing pianissimo is another fallacy for a young voice. this is one of the most difficult accomplishments, and should be reserved for a later period. oscar saenger: "the tone should be free, round and full, but not loud." hearing yourself does the singer really hear himself is a question which has been put to nearly every artist. many answered in a comparative negative, though with qualifications. miss farrar said: "no, i do not actually hear my voice, except in a general way, but we learn to know the sensations produced in throat, head, face, lips and other parts of the anatomy, which vibrate in a certain manner to correct tone production. we learn the _feeling_ of the tone." "i can tell just how i am singing a tone or phrase," says de luca, "by the feeling and sensation; for of course i cannot hear the full effect; no singer can really hear the effect of his work, except on the records." "the singer must judge so much from sensation, for she cannot very well hear herself, that is, she cannot tell the full effect of what she is doing," says anna case. mr. witherspoon says: "the singer of course hears himself and with study learns to hear himself better. the singer should depend more on hearing the sound he makes than on feeling the sound. in other words, train the _ear_, the court of ultimate resort, and the only judge, and forget sensation as much as possible, for the latter leads to a million confusions." vocal mastery, from the artists' viewpoint farrar: "a thing that is mastered must be really perfect. to master vocal art, the singer must have so developed his voice that it is under complete control; then he can do with it what he wishes. he must be able to produce all he desires of power, pianissimo, accent, shading, delicacy and variety of color." galli-curci: "to sum up: the three requirements of vocal mastery are: management of the larynx; relaxation of the diaphragm; control of the breath. to these might be added a fourth: mixed vowels. but when these are mastered, what then? ah, so much more it can never be put into words. it is self-expression through the medium of tone, for tone must always be a vital part of the singer's individuality, colored by feeling and emotion. to perfect one's own instrument, must always be the singer's joy and satisfaction." raisa: "if i have developed perfect control throughout the two and a half octaves of my voice, can make each tone with pure quality and perfect evenness in the different degrees of loud and soft, and if i have perfect breath control as well, i then have an equipment that may serve all purposes of interpretation. for together with vocal mastery must go the art of interpretation, in which all the mastery of the vocal equipment may find expression. in order to interpret adequately one ought to possess a perfect instrument, perfectly trained. when this is the case one can forget mechanism, because confident of the ability to express any desired emotion." homer: "the singer must master all difficulties of technic, of tone production in order to be able to express the thought of the composer, and the meaning of the music." werrenrath: "i can answer the question in one word--disregard. for if you have complete control of your anatomy and such command of your vocal resources that they will always do their work; that they can be depended on to act perfectly, then you can disregard mechanism and think only of the interpretation--only of your vocal message. then you have conquered the material and have attained vocal mastery." kingston: "vocal mastery includes so many things. first and foremost, vocal technic. one must have an excellent technic before one can hope to sing even moderately well. technic furnishes the tool with which the singer creates his vocal art work. then the singer must work on his moral nature so that he shall express the beautiful and pure in music. until i have thus prepared myself, i am not doing my whole duty to myself, my art or to my neighbor." griffith: "vocal mastery is acquired through correct understanding of what constitutes pure vowel sounds, and such control of the breath as will enable one to convert every atom of breath into singing tone. this establishes correct action of the vocal chords and puts the singer in possession of the various tints of the voice. "when the vocal chords are allowed to produce pure vowels, correct action is the result, and with proper breath support, vocal mastery can be assured." duval: "what is vocal mastery? every great artist has his own peculiar manner of accomplishing results--has his own vocal mastery. patti had one kind, maurel another, lehmann still another. caruso may also be said to have his own vocal mastery. "in fine, as every great artist is different from his compeers, there can be no fixed and fast standard of vocal mastery, except the mastery of doing a great thing greatly and convincingly." the end 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. _all rights reserved_ copyright, , by the macmillan company. set up and electrotyped november, . 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 my title to write on the art of song section i preliminary practice section ii of the breath section iii of the breath and whirling currents section iv the singer's physiological studies section v equalizing the voice; breath; form section vi the attack section vii nasal. nasal singing section viii singing toward the nose. head voice section ix the head voice section x sensation and position of the tongue section xi the sensations of the palate section xii the sensation of the resonance of the head cavities section xiii singing covered section xiv on vocal registers section xv development and equalization section xvi white voices section xvii theodor wachtel section xviii the highest head tones section xix extension of the compass and equalization of registers section xx the tremolo section xxi the cure section xxii the tongue section xxiii preparation for singing section xxiv the position of the mouth (contraction of the muscles of speech) section xxv connection of vowels section xxvi the lips section xxvii the vowel sound _ah_ section xxviii italian and german section xxix auxiliary vowels section xxx resonant consonants section xxxi practical exercises section xxxii the great scale section xxxiii velocity section xxxiv trill section xxxv how to hold one's self when practising section xxxvi concerning expression section xxxvii before the public section xxxviii interpretation section xxxix in conclusion note.--a good remedy for catarrh and hoarseness 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. , . 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,[ ] which a singer must consciously have under perfect control. [footnote : 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. section ii of the breath the breath becomes voice through the operation of the will, and the instrumentality of the vocal organs. to regulate the breath, to prepare a passage of the proper form through which it shall flow, circulate, develop itself, and reach the necessary resonating chambers, must be our chief task. concerning the breath and much more besides there is so much that is excellent in oscar guttmann's "gymnastik der stimme" that i can do no better than to refer to it and recommend it strongly to the attention of all earnest students. how do i breathe? very short of breath by nature, my mother had to keep me as a little child almost sitting upright in bed. after i had outgrown that and as a big girl could run around and play well enough, i still had much trouble with shortness of breath in the beginning of my singing lessons. for years i practised breathing exercises every day without singing, and still do so with especial pleasure, now that everything that relates to the breath and the voice has become clear to me. soon i had got so far that i could hold a swelling and diminishing tone from fifteen to eighteen seconds. i had learned this: to draw in the abdomen and diaphragm, raise the chest and hold the breath in it by the aid of the ribs; in letting out the breath _gradually_ to relax the body and to let the chest fall slowly. to do everything _thoroughly_ i doubtless exaggerated it all. but since for twenty-five years i have breathed in this way almost exclusively, with the utmost care, i have naturally attained great dexterity in it; and my abdominal and chest muscles and my diaphragm, have been strengthened to a remarkable degree. yet i was not satisfied. a horn player in berlin with the power of holding a very long breath, once told me in answer to a question, that he drew in his abdomen and diaphragm very strongly, but immediately relaxed his abdomen again as soon as he began to play. i tried the same thing with the _best results_. quite different, and very naïve, was the answer i once got from three german orchestral horn players in america. they looked at me in entire bewilderment, and appeared not to understand in the least my questions as to how they breathed. two of them declared that the best way was not to think about it at all. but when i asked if their teachers had never told them how they should breathe, the third answered, after some reflection, "oh, yes!" and pointed in a general way to his stomach. the first two were right, in so far as too violent inhalation of breath is really undesirable, because thereby _too much_ air is drawn in. but such ignorance of the subject is disheartening, and speaks ill for the conservatories in which the players were trained, whose performances naturally are likely to give art a black eye. undoubtedly i took in too much air in breathing, and thereby stiffened various organs, depriving my muscles of their elasticity. yet, with all my care and preparation, i often, when i had not given special thought to it, had too little breath, rather than too much. i felt, too, after excessive inhalation, as if i must emit a certain amount of air before i began to sing. finally i abandoned all superfluous drawing in of the abdomen and diaphragm, inhaled but little, and began to pay special attention to emitting the smallest possible amount of breath, which i found very serviceable. how do i breathe now? my diaphragm i scarcely draw in consciously, my abdomen never; i feel the breath fill my lungs, and my upper ribs expand. without raising my chest especially high, i force the breath against it, and hold it fast there. at the same time i raise my palate high and prevent the escape of breath through the nose. the diaphragm beneath reacts against it, and furnishes pressure from the abdomen. chest, diaphragm, the closed epiglottis, and the raised palate all form a supply chamber for the breath. only in this way is the breath under the control of the singer, through the pressure against the chest tension muscles. (_this is very important._) from now on the breath must be emitted from the supply chamber very sparingly, but with unceasing uniformity and strength, without once being held back, to the vocal cords, which will further regulate it as far as possible. the more directly the breath pressure is exerted against the chest,--one has the feeling, in this, of singing the tone against the chest whence it must be _pressed_ out,--the less breath flows through the vocal cords, and the less, consequently, are these overburdened. in this way, under control, in the passage formed for it above the tongue by that organ, it reaches the resonance chambers prepared for it by the raising and lowering of the soft palate, and those in the cavities of the head. here it forms whirling currents of tone; these now must circulate uninterrupted for as long as possible and fill all the accessible resonating surfaces, which must be maintained in an elastic state. this is necessary to bring the tone to its perfect purity. not till these currents have been sufficiently used up and passed through the "bell," or cup-shaped resonating cavity, of the mouth and lips, may it be allowed to stream from the mouth unimpeded. yet the _sensation_ must be as if the breath were constantly escaping from the mouth. to observe and keep under control these many functions, singly or in conjunction, forms the ceaseless delight of the never failing fountain of song study. thus, in shaping the passage for the breath, the larynx, tongue, and palate, which can be placed at will, are employed. the vocal cords, which can best be imagined as inner lips, we have under control neither as beginners nor as artists. _we do not feel them._ we first become conscious of them through the controlling apparatus of the breath, which teaches us to _spare_ them, by emitting breath through them in the least possible quantity and of even pressure, whereby a steady tone can be produced. i even maintain that all is won, when--as victor maurel says--we regard them directly as the breath regulators, and relieve them of all overwork through the controlling apparatus of the chest-muscle tension. through the form prepared by the larynx, tongue, and palate, we can direct the breath, previously under control and regulation, toward the particular resonating surfaces on the palate, or in the cavities of the head, which are suitable to each tone. this rule remains the same for all voices. as soon as the breath leaves the larynx, it is divided. (previously, in inhalation, a similar thing happens; but this does not concern us immediately, and i prefer to direct the singer's chief attention to the second occurrence.) one part may press toward the palate, the other toward the cavities of the head. the division of the breath occurs regularly, from the deepest bass to the highest tenor or soprano, step for step, vibration for vibration, without regard to sex or individuality. only the differing size or strength of the vocal organs through which the breath flows, the breathing apparatus, or the skill with which they are used, are different in different individuals. the seat of the breath, the law of its division, as well as the resonating surfaces, are always the same and are differentiated at most through difference of habit. section iii of the breath and whirling currents (singing forward) the veriest beginner knows that in order to use the breath to the fullest advantage, it must remain very long diffused back in the mouth. a mistaken idea of "singing forward" misleads most to _press_ it forward and thus allow it to be speedily dissipated. the column of breath coming in an uninterrupted stream from the larynx, must, as soon as it flows into the form prepared for it according to the required tone, by the tongue and palate, fill this form, soaring through all its corners, with its vibrations. it makes whirling currents, which circulate in the elastic form surrounding it, and it must remain there till the tone is high enough, strong enough, and sustained enough to satisfy the judgment of the singer as well as the ear of the listener. should there be lacking the least element of pitch, strength, or duration, the tone is imperfect and does not meet the requirement. learning and teaching to hear is the first task of both pupil and teacher. one is impossible without the other. it is the most difficult as well as the most grateful task, and it is the only way to reach perfection. even if the pupil unconsciously should produce a flawless tone, it is the teacher's duty to acquaint him clearly with the _causes_ of it. it is not enough to sing well; one must also know how one does it. the teacher must tell the pupil constantly, making him describe clearly his sensations in singing, and understand fully the physiological factors that coöperate to produce them. the sensations in singing must coincide with mine as here described, if they are to be considered as correct; for mine are based logically on physiological causes and correspond precisely with the operation of these causes. moreover, all my pupils tell me--often, to be sure, not till many months have passed--how exact my explanations are; how accurately, on the strength of them, they have learned to feel the physiological processes. they have learned, slowly, to be sure, to become conscious of their errors and false impressions; for it is very difficult to ascertain such mistakes and false adjustments of the organs. false sensations in singing and disregarded or false ideas of physiological processes cannot immediately be stamped out. a long time is needed for the mind to be able to form a clear image of those processes, and not till then can knowledge and improvement be expected. the teacher must repeatedly explain the physiological processes, the pupil repeatedly disclose every confusion and uncertainty he feels, until the perfect consciousness of his sensations in singing is irrevocably impressed upon his memory, that is, has become a habit. among a hundred singers hardly one can be found whose single tones meet every requirement. and among a thousand listeners, even among teachers, and among artists, hardly one hears it. i admit that such perfect tones sometimes, generally quite unconsciously, are heard from young singers, and especially from beginners, and never fail to make an impression. the teacher hears that they are good, so does the public. only a very few know why, even among singers, because only a very few know the laws governing perfect tone production. their talent, their ear perchance, tell them the truth; but the causes they neither know nor look for. on such "unconscious singing" directors, managers, and even conductors, build mistakenly their greatest hopes. no one hears what is lacking, or what will soon be lacking, and all are surprised when experienced singers protest against it. they become enthusiastic, properly, over beautiful voices, but pursue quite the wrong path in training them for greater tasks. as soon as such persons are obtained, they are immediately bundled into _all_ rôles; they have hardly time to learn one rôle by heart, to say nothing of comprehending it and working it up artistically. the stars must shine _immediately_! but with what resources? with the fresh voice alone? who is there to teach them to use their resources on the stage? who to husband them for the future? the manager? the director? not at all. when the day comes that they can no longer perform what, not they themselves, but the directors, expected of them, they are put to one side, and if they do not possess great energy and strength, often entirely succumb. they could not meet the demands made upon them, because they did not know how to use their resources. i shall be told that tones well sung, even unconsciously, are enough. but that is not true. the least unfavorable circumstance, over-exertion, indisposition, an unaccustomed situation, anything can blow out the "unconscious" one's light, or at least make it flicker badly. of any self-help, when there is ignorance of all the fundamentals, there can be no question. any help is grasped at. then appears the so-called (but false) "individuality," under whose mask so much that is bad presents itself to art and before the public. this is not remarkable, in view of the complexity of the phenomena of song. few teachers concern themselves with the fundamental studies; they often do not sing at all themselves, or they sing quite wrongly; and consequently can neither describe the vocal sensations nor test them in others. theory alone is of no value whatever. with old singers the case is often quite the contrary--so both seize whatever help they can lay hold of. the breath, that vibrates against the soft palate, when it is raised, or behind it in the cavities of the head, produces whirling currents through its continuous streaming forth and its twofold division. these currents can circulate only in unbroken completeness of form. the longer their form remains unimpaired, and the more economically the continuous breath pressure is maintained, the less breath do these currents need, the less is emitted unused from the mouth. if an elastic form is found in the mouth in which the currents can circulate untouched by any pressure or undue contraction or expansion of it, the breath becomes practically unlimited. that is the simple solution of the paradox that without deep breathing one may often have much breath, and, after elaborate preparations, often none at all; because the chief attention is generally directed to inhalation, instead of to the elastic forming of the organs for the breath, sound currents, and tone. the one thing needed is the knowledge of the causes, and the necessary skill in preparing the form, avoiding all pressure that could injure it, whether originating in the larynx, tongue, or palate, or in the organs that furnish the breath pressure. the singer's endeavors, consequently, must be directed to keeping the breath as long as possible sounding and vibrating not only forward but back in the mouth, since the resonance of the tone is spread upon and above the entire palate, extends from the front teeth to the wall of the throat. he must concern himself with preparing for the vibrations, pliantly and with mobility, a powerful, elastic, almost floating envelope, which must be filled entirely, with the help of a continuous vocal mixture,--a mixture of which the components are indistinguishable. section iv the singer's physiological studies science has explained all the processes of the vocal organs in their chief functions, and many methods of singing have been based upon physiology, physics, and phonetics. to a certain extent scientific explanations are absolutely necessary for the singer--as long as they are confined to the sensations in singing, foster understanding of the phenomenon, and summon up an intelligible picture. this is what uninterpreted sensations in singing cannot do; of which fact the clearest demonstration is given by the expressions, "bright," "dark," "nasal," "singing forward," etc., that i began by mentioning and that are almost always falsely understood. they are quite meaningless without the practical teachings of the sensations of such singers as have directed their attention to them with a knowledge of the end in view, and are competent to correlate them with the facts of science. the singer is usually worried by the word "physiology"; but only because he does not clearly understand the limits of its teachings. the singer need, will, and must, know a little of it. we learn so much that is useless in this life, why not learn that which is of the utmost service to us? what, in brief, does it mean? perfect consciousness in moving the vocal organs, and through the aid of the ear, in placing them at will in certain relations with each other; the fact that the soft palate can be drawn up against the hard palate; that the tongue is able to take many different positions, and that the larynx, by the assistance of the vocal sound oo, takes a low position, and by that of the vowel [=a] a high one; that all muscles contract in activity and in normal inactivity are relaxed; that we must strengthen them by continued vocal gymnastics so that they may be able to sustain long-continued exertion; and must keep them elastic and use them so. it includes also the well-controlled activity of diaphragm, chest, neck, and face muscles. this is all that physiology means for the vocal organs. since these things all operate together, one without the others can accomplish nothing; if the least is lacking, singing is quite impossible, or is entirely bad. [illustration: cavity of the forehead, high range. nasal cavity, middle range. palatal resonance, low range. soft palate laid back against the wall of the throat in low tones, lowered in high tones. red lines denote the resonance.] physiology is concerned also with muscles, nerves, sinews, ligaments, and cartilage, all of which are used in singing, but all of which we cannot feel. we cannot even feel the vocal cords. certainly much depends for the singer upon their proper condition; and whether as voice producers or breath regulators, we all have good reason always to spare them as much as possible, and never to overburden them. though we cannot feel the vocal cords, we can, nevertheless, hear, by observing whether the tone is even,--in the emission of the breath under control,--whether they are performing their functions properly. overburdening them through pressure, or emitting of the breath without control, results in weakening them. the irritation of severe coughing, thoughtless talking or shouting immediately after singing may also set up serious congestion of the vocal cords, which can be remedied only through slow gymnastics of the tongue and laryngeal muscles, by the pronunciation of vowels in conjunction with consonants. inactivity of the vocal organs will not cure it, or perhaps not till after the lapse of years. a good singer can _never_ lose his voice. mental agitation or severe colds can for a time deprive the singer of the use of his vocal organs, or seriously impair them. only those who have been singing without consciously correct use of their organs can become disheartened over it; those who know better will, with more or less difficulty, cure themselves, and by the use of vocal gymnastics bring their vocal organs into condition again. for this reason, if for no other, singers should seek to acquire accurate knowledge of their own organs, as well as of their functions, that they may not let themselves be burnt, cut, and cauterized by unscrupulous physicians. leave the larynx and all connected with it alone; strengthen the organs by daily vocal gymnastics and a healthy, _sober_ mode of life; beware of catching cold after singing; do not sit and talk in restaurants. students of singing should use the early morning hours, and fill their days with the various branches of their study. sing every day only so much, that on the next day you can practise again, feeling fresh and ready for work, as _regular_ study requires. better one hour every day than ten to-day and none tomorrow. the public singer should also do his practising early in the day, that he may have himself well in hand by evening. how often one feels indisposed in the morning! any physical reason is sufficient to make singing difficult, or even impossible; it need not be connected necessarily with the vocal organs; in fact, i believe it very rarely is. for this reason, in two hours everything may have changed. i remember a charming incident in new york. albert niemann, our heroic tenor, who was to sing _lohengrin_ in the evening, complained to me in the morning of severe hoarseness. to give up a rôle in america costs the singer, as well as the director, much money. my advice was to wait. _niemann._ what do you do, then, when you are hoarse? _i._ oh, i practise and see whether it still troubles me. _niem._ indeed; and what do you practise? _i._ long, slow scales. _niem._ even if you are hoarse? _i._ yes; if i want to sing, or have to, i try it. _niem._ well, what are they? show me. _the great scale, the infallible cure._ i showed them to him; he sang them, with words of abuse in the meantime; but gradually his hoarseness grew better. he did not send word of his inability to appear in the evening, but sang, and better than ever, with enormous success. 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 infallible remedy, but could not sing above a flat, though 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 me so desperate. nevertheless, i practised till eleven 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 and was in brilliant form. people said they had seldom heard me sing so well. i could give numberless instances, all going to show that you never can tell early in the day how you are going to feel in the evening. i much prefer, for instance, not to feel so very well early in the day, because it may easily happen that the opposite may be the case later on, which is much less agreeable. if you wish to sing only when you are in good form, you must excuse yourself ninety-nine times out of a hundred. you must learn to know your own vocal organs thoroughly and be able to sing; must do everything that is calculated to keep you in good condition. this includes chiefly rest for the nerves, care of the body, and gymnastics of the voice, that you may be able to defy all possible chances. before all, never neglect to practise every morning, regularly, proper singing exercises through the whole compass of the voice. do it with _painful_ seriousness; and never think that vocal gymnastics weary the singer. on the contrary, they bring refreshment and power of endurance to him who will become master of his vocal organs. section v equalizing the voice; breath; form through the lowering of the pillars of the fauces, which is the same as raising the soft palate, the outflowing breath is divided into two parts. i have sketched the following representation of it:-- division of the breath. by raising the pillars of the fauces, which closes off the throat from the cavities of the head, the chest voice is produced; that is, the lowest range of all kinds of voices. this occurs when the main stream of breath, spreading over against the high-arched palate, completely utilizes all its resonating surfaces. this is the palatal resonance, in which there is the most power (plate a). [illustration: a red lines denote division of the breath in palatal resonance, lower range of male and female voices.] when the soft palate is raised high behind the nose, the pillars of the fauces are lowered, and this frees the way for the main stream of breath to the head cavities. this now is poured out, filling the nose, forehead, and head cavities. this makes the head tone. called head tone in women, falsetto in men, it is the highest range of all classes of voices, the resonance of the head cavities (plate c). [illustration: c resonance of the cavity of the forehead. red lines denote division of the breath in the resonance of the head cavity, high range.] between these two extreme functions of the palate and breath, one stream of breath gives some of its force to the other; and when equally divided they form the medium range of all classes of voices (plate b). [illustration: b red lines denote division of the breath in the middle range.] the singer must always have in his mind's eye a picture of this divided stream of breath. as i have already said, in the lowest tones of all voices the main stream of breath is projected against the palate; the pillars of the fauces, being stretched to their fullest extent, and drawn back to the wall of the throat, allow _almost_ no breath to reach the head cavities. i say _almost_ none, for, as a matter of fact, a branch stream of breath, however small, must be forced back, behind and above the pillars, first into the nose, later into the forehead and the cavities of the head. this forms the overtones (head tones) which must vibrate with all tones, even the lowest. these overtones lead over from the purest chest tones, slowly, with a constantly changing mixture of both kinds of resonance, first to the high tones of bass and baritone, the low tones of tenor, the middle tones of alto and soprano, finally, to the purest head tones, the highest tones of the tenor-falsetto or soprano. (see the plates.) the extremely delicate gradation of the scale of increase of the resonance of the head cavities in ascending passages, and of increase of palatal resonance in descending, depends upon the skill to make the palate act elastically, and to let the breath, under control of the abdominal and chest pressure, flow uninterruptedly in a gentle stream into the resonating chambers. through the previous preparation of the larynx and tongue, it must reach its resonating surfaces as though passing through a cylinder, and must circulate in the form previously prepared for it, proper for each tone and vowel sound. this form surrounds it gently but firmly. the supply of air remains continuously the same, _rather increasing than diminishing_, notwithstanding the fact that the quantity which the abdominal pressure has furnished the vocal cords from the supply chamber is a very small one. that it may not hinder further progression, the form must remain elastic and sensitive to the most delicate modification of the vowel sound. if the tone is to have life, it must always be able to conform to any vowel sound. the least displacement of the form or interruption of the breath breaks up the whirling currents and vibrations, and consequently affects the tone, its vibrancy, its strength, and its duration. in singing a continuous passage upward, the form becomes higher and more pliant; the most pliable place on the palate is drawn upward. (see plate a.) when i sing a single tone i can give it much more power, much more palatal or nasal resonance, than i could give in a series of ascending tones. in a musical figure i must attack the lowest note in such a way that i can easily reach the highest. i must, therefore, give it much more head tone than the single tone requires. (very important.) when advancing farther, i have the feeling on the palate, above and behind the nose, toward the cavities of the head, of a strong but very elastic rubber ball, which i fill like a balloon with my breath streaming up far back of it. and this filling keeps on in even measure. that is, the branch stream of the breath, which flows into the head cavities, must be free to flow very strongly without hindrance. (see plate b.) i can increase the size of this ball above, to a pear shape, as soon as i think of singing higher; and, indeed, i heighten the form _before_ i go on from the tone just sung, making it, so to speak, _higher_ in that way, and thus keep the form, that is, the "propagation form," ready for the next higher tone, which i can now reach easily, as long as no interruption in the stream of breath against the mucous membrane can take place. for this reason the breath must _never be held back_, but must always be emitted in a more and more powerful stream. the higher the tone, the more numerous are the vibrations, the more rapidly the whirling currents circulate, and the more unchangeable must the form be. catarrh often dries up the mucous membrane; then the tones are inclined to break off. at such times one must sing with peculiar circumspection, and with an especially powerful stream of breath behind the tone: it is better to take breath frequently. in a descending scale or figure i must, on the contrary, preserve very carefully the form taken for the highest tone. i must not go higher, nor yet, under any circumstances, lower, but must imagine that i remain at the same pitch, and must suggest to myself that i am striking the same tone again. the form may gradually be a little modified at the upper end: that is, the soft palate is lowered very carefully behind the nose: keeping almost always to the form employed for the highest tone, sing the figure to its end, toward the nose, with the help of the vowel _oo_. (this auxiliary vowel _oo_ means nothing more than that the larynx is slowly lowered in position.) when this happens, the resonance of the head cavities is diminished, that of the palate increased; for the soft palate sinks, and the pillars of the fauces are raised more and more. yet the head tone must not be entirely free from palatal resonance. both remain to the last breath united, mutually supporting each other in ascending and descending passages, and alternately but inaudibly increasing and diminishing. these things go to make up the form:-- the raising and lowering of the soft palate, and the corresponding lowering and raising of the pillars of the fauces. the proper position of the tongue: the tip rests on the lower front teeth--mine even as low as the roots of the teeth. the back of the tongue must stand high and free from the throat, ready for any movement. a furrow must be formed in the tongue, which is least prominent in the lowest tones, and in direct head tones may even completely disappear. as soon as the tone demands the palatal resonance, the furrow must be made prominent and kept so. in my case it can always be seen. this is one of the most important matters, upon which too much emphasis can hardly be laid. as soon as the furrow in the tongue shows itself, the tone must sound right; for then the mass of the tongue is kept away from the throat, and, since its sides are raised, it is kept out of the way of the tone. [illustration: side of the tongue kept high. furrow.] [illustration: red line denotes: sensation in raising the soft palate for high notes. sensation of the form in rapid upward passages. division of the breath favors the resonance of head cavities.] it lies flattest in the lowest tones because the larynx then is in a very low position, and thus is out of its way. [illustration: red line denotes sensation of the form in slow progression of tones.] [illustration: red line denotes sensation for the propagation form.] furthermore, there is the unconstrained position of the larynx, which must be maintained without pressure of the throat muscles. from it the breath must stream forth evenly and uninterruptedly, to fill the form prepared for it by the tongue and palate and supported by the throat muscles. this support must not, however, depend in the least upon _pressure_,--for the vibrating breath must float above,--but upon the greatest elasticity. one must play with the muscles, and be able to contract and relax them at pleasure, having thus perfect mastery over them. for this incessant practice is required, increasing control of the breath through the sense of hearing and the breath pressure. at first a very strong will power is needed to hold the muscles tense without pressure; that is, to let the tone, as it were, soar through the throat, mouth, or cavities of the head. the stronger the improper pressure in the production of the tone, the more difficult it is to get rid of. the result is simply, in other words, a strain. the contraction of the muscles must go only so far that they can be slowly relaxed; that is, can return to their normal position _easily_. never must the neck be swelled up, or the veins in it stand out. every convulsive or painful feeling is wrong. section vi the attack to attack a tone, the breath must be directed to a focal point on the palate, which lies under the critical point for each different tone; this must be done with a certain decisiveness. there must, however, be no pressure on this place; for the overtones must be able to soar above, and sound with, the tone. the palate has to furnish, besides, the top cover against which the breath strikes, also an extremely elastic floor for the breath sounding above it against the hard palate or in the nose. this breath, by forming the overtones, makes certain the connection with the resonance of the head cavities. in order to bring out the color of the tone the whirling currents must vivify all the vowel sounds that enter into it, and draw them into their circles with an ever-increasing, soaring tide of sound. the duration of the tone must be assured by the gentle but uninterrupted outpouring of the breath behind it. its strength must be gained by the breath pressure and the focal point on the palate, by the complete utilization of the palatal resonance; without, however, injuring the resonance of the head cavities. (see plate, representing the attack.) [illustration: sensation of pitch. red line denotes sensation in the attack.] section vii nasal. nasal singing by raising the back of the tongue toward the soft palate and lowering the soft palate toward the tongue, we produce nasal sound, such as is heard in the pronunciation of the word "hanger," for instance. the air is then expelled chiefly through the nose. the nasal sound can be much exaggerated--something that very rarely happens; it can be much neglected--something that very often happens. certain it is that it is not nearly enough availed of. that is my own everyday experience. we germans have only small opportunity to make the acquaintance of the nasal sound; we know it in only a few words: "e_ng_el," "la_ng_e," "ma_ng_el," etc.,--always where _ng_ occurs before or after a vowel. the french, on the contrary, always sing and speak nasally, with the pillar of the fauces raised high, and not seldom exaggerate it. on account of the rounding up of the whole soft palate, which, through the power of habit, is cultivated especially by the french to an extraordinary degree, and which affords the breath an enormous space as a resonating surface to act upon, their voices often sound tremendous. the tenor silva is a good example of this. such voices have only the one drawback of easily becoming monotonous. at first the power of the organ astonishes us; the next time we are disappointed--the tone color remains always the same. the tone often even degenerates into a hollow quality. [illustration: red lines denote movement of the tongue and palate for the nasal tone.] on the other hand, voices that are not sufficiently nasal sound clear and expressionless. madame melba, for instance, whose voice is cultivated to favor the head tones, and sounds equally well in all its ranges, apparently lowers the pillars of the fauces too much, and has her chief resonance in the head cavities; she cannot draw upon the palatal resonance for single accents of expression. consequently she loses in vocal color. this procedure, as soon as it becomes a habit, results in monotony. in the first case somewhat less, in the second somewhat more, nasal resonance would help to a greater variety of effect. there are singers, too, who pursue the middle path with consummate art. thus madame sembrich, in recent years, appears to have devoted very special study to nasal tones, whereby her voice, especially in the middle register, has gained greatly in warmth. to fix the pupil's attention on the nasal tone and the elasticity of the palate, he should often be given exercises with french words. section viii singing toward the nose. head voice when the peak of the softest part of the palate is placed forward toward the nose, instead of being drawn up high behind the nose, as in the head voice (see plate, head voice and nasal tone), it forms a kind of nasal production which, as i have already said, cannot be studied enough, because it produces very noble tonal effects and extraordinary connections. it ought always to be employed. by it is effected the connection of tones with each other, from the front teeth back to a point under the nose; from the lower middle tones to the head tones. in truth, all the benefit of tonal connection depends upon this portion of the soft palate; that is, upon its conscious employment. this is all that singers mean when they speak of "nasal singing"--really only singing toward the nose. the soft palate placed toward the nose offers a resonating surface for the tone. the reason why teachers tell their pupils so little of this is that many singers are quite ignorant of what nasal singing means, and are tormented by the idea of "singing toward the nose," when by chance they hear something about it. they generally regard the voice as one complete organ acting by itself, which is once for all what it is. what can be made of it through knowledge of the functions of all the coöperating organs they know nothing of. blind voices are often caused by the exaggerated practice of closing off the throat too tightly from the head cavities; that is, drawing the pillars of the fauces too far toward the wall of the throat. the large resonating chamber thus formed yields tones that are powerful close at hand, but they do not carry, because they are poor in overtones. the mistake consists in the practice of stretching the pillars too widely in the higher vocal ranges, also. in proportion as the pillars are extended, the breath spreads over the entire palate, instead of being concentrated on only one point of it, and bringing at the same time the resonance of the head cavities into play. the soft palate must first be drawn up to, then behind, the nose, and the attack of the higher tones be transferred thither. the pillars of the fauces must necessarily be relaxed by this action of the soft palate. thereby breath is introduced into the cavities of the head to form the overtones, which contribute brilliancy and freshness to the voice. many singers persist in the bad habit here described, as long as nature can endure it; in the course of time, however, even with the most powerful physiques, they will begin to sing noticeably flat; with less powerful, the fatal tremolo will make its appearance, which results in the ruin of so many singers. [illustration: red lines denote vocal sensations of soprano and tenor singers.] [illustration: the singer's nasal tone. red line denotes: the soft palate raised high in the back, for further progression with the head tone. vocal sensation. red line denotes: soft palate drawn toward the nose, for a descending progression. vocal sensation.] section ix the head voice the head tone signifies, for all voices, from the deepest bass to the highest soprano,--excepting for the fact that it furnishes the overtones for each single tone of the whole vocal gamut,--youth. a voice without vibrancy is an _old_ voice. the magic of youth, freshness, is given by the overtones that sound with every tone. so to utilize the head voice (resonance of the head cavities) that every tone shall be able to "carry" and shall remain high enough to reach higher tones easily, is a difficult art, without which, however, the singer cannot reckon upon the durability of his voice. often employed unconsciously, it is lost through heedlessness, mistaken method, or ignorance; and it can hardly ever be regained, or, if at all, only through the greatest sacrifice of time, trouble, and patience. the _pure_ head voice (the third register) is, on account of the thinness that it has by nature, the neglected step-child of almost all singers, male and female; its step-parents, in the worst significance of the word, are most singing teachers, male and female. it is produced by the complete lowering of the pillars of the fauces, while the softest point of the palate--behind the nose--is thrown up very high, seemingly, almost into the head; in the highest position, as it were, above the head. the rear of the tongue stands high, but is formed into a furrow, in order that the mass of the tongue may not be in the way, either in the throat or in the mouth. in the very highest falsetto and head tones the furrow is pretty well filled out, and then no more breath at all reaches the palatal resonance. the larynx stands high--mine leans over to one side. (see plates of larynx.) [illustration: a normal position of the larynx. b the position of my larynx in the high range.] the vocal cords, which we cannot feel, now approach very near each other. the pupil should not read about them until he has learned to hear correctly. i do not intend to write a physiological work, but simply to attempt to examine certain infallible vocal sensations of the singer; point out ways to cure evils, and show how to gain a correct understanding of that which we lack. up to a certain pitch, with tenors as well as with sopranos, the head tones should be mixed with palatal resonance. with tenors this will be a matter of course, though with them the chest tones are much abused; with sopranos, however, a judicious mixture may be recommended because more expression is required (since the influence of wagner has become paramount in interpreting the meaning of a composition, especially of the words) than in the brilliant fireworks of former times. the head voice, too, must not be regarded as a definite register of its own, which is generally produced in the middle range through too long a persistence in the use of the palatal and nasal resonance. if it is suddenly heard alone, after forcing tones that have preceded it, which is not possible under other circumstances, it is of course noticeably thin, and stands out to its disadvantage--like every other sharply defined register--from the middle tones. in the formation of the voice no "register" should exist or be created; the voice must be made even throughout its entire range. i do not mean by this that i should sing neither with chest tones nor with head tones. on the contrary, the practised artist should have at his command all manner of different means of expression, that he may be able to use his single tones, according to the expression required, with widely diverse qualities of resonance. this, too, must be cared for in his studies. but these studies, because they must fit each individual case, according to the genius or talent of the individual, can be imparted and directed only by a good teacher. the head voice, when its value is properly appreciated, is the most valuable possession of all singers, male and female. it should not be treated as a cinderella, or as a last resort,--as is often done too late, and so without results, because too much time is needed to regain it, when once lost,--but should be cherished and cultivated as a guardian angel and guide, like no other. without its aid all voices lack brilliancy and carrying power; they are like a head without a brain. only by constantly summoning it to the aid of all other registers is the singer able to keep his voice fresh and youthful. only by a careful application of it do we gain that power of endurance which enables us to meet the most fatiguing demands. by it alone can we effect a complete equalization of the whole compass of all voices, and extend that compass. this is the great secret of those singers who keep their voices young till they reach an advanced age. without it all voices of which great exertions are demanded infallibly meet disaster. therefore, the motto must be always, practice, and again, practice, to keep one's powers uninjured; practice brings freshness to the voice, strengthens the muscles, and is, for the singer, far more interesting than any musical composition. if in my explanations i frequently repeat myself, it is done not unintentionally, but deliberately, because of the difficulty of the subject, as well as of the superficiality and negligence of so many singers who, after once hastily glancing through such a treatise,--if they consider it worth their while at all to inform themselves on the subject,--think they have done enough with it. one must read continually, study constantly by one's self, to gain even a faint idea of the difficulty of the art of singing, of managing the voice, and even of one's own organs and mistakes, which are one's second self. the phenomenon of the voice is an elaborate complication of manifold functions which are united in an extremely limited space, to produce a single tone; functions which can only be heard, scarcely felt--indeed, should be felt as little as possible. thus, in spite of ourselves, we can only come back again to the point from which we started, as in an eddy, repeating the explanations of the single functions, and relating them to each other. since in singing we sense none of the various activities of the cartilage, muscles, ligaments, and tendons that belong to the vocal apparatus, feel them only in their coöperation, and can judge of the correctness of their workings only through the ear, it would be absurd to think of them while singing. we are compelled, in spite of scientific knowledge, to direct our attention while practising, to the sensations of the voice, which are the only ones we can become aware of,--sensations which are confined to the very palpable functions of the organs of breathing, the position of the larynx, of the tongue, and of the palate, and finally, to the sensation of the resonance of the head cavities. the perfect tone results from the combined operations of all these functions, the sensations of which i undertake to explain, and the control of which the ear alone can undertake. this is the reason why it is so important to learn to hear one's self, and to sing in such a way that one can always so hear. even in the greatest stress of emotion the power of self-control must never be lost; you must never allow yourself to sing in a slovenly, that is, in a heedless, way, or to exceed your powers, or even to reach their extreme limit. that would be synonymous with roughness, which should be excluded from every art, especially in the art of song. the listener must gain a pleasing impression from every tone, every expression of the singer; much more may be given if desired. strength must not be confounded with roughness; and the two must not go hand in hand together. phenomenal beings may perhaps be permitted to go beyond the strength of others; but to the others this must remain forbidden. it cannot become a regular practice, and is best limited to the single phenomenon. we should otherwise soon reach the point of crudest realism, from which at best we are not far removed. roughness will never attain artistic justification, not even in the case of the greatest individual singers, because it is an offence. the public should witness from interpretative art only what is good and noble on which to form its taste; there should be nothing crude or commonplace put before it, which it might consider itself justified in taking as an example. of the breath sensation i have already spoken at length. i must add that it is often very desirable in singing to breathe through the nose with the mouth closed; although when this is done, the raising of the palate becomes less certain, as it happens somewhat later than when the breath is taken with the mouth open. it has, however, this disadvantage, that neither cold air nor dust is drawn into the larynx and air passages. i take pleasure in doing it very often. at all events, the singer should often avail himself of it. we feel the larynx when the epiglottis springs up ("stroke of the glottis," if the tone is taken from below upward). we can judge whether the epiglottis springs up quickly enough if the breath comes out in a full enough stream to give the tone the necessary resonance. the low position of the larynx can easily be secured by pronouncing the vowel _oo_; the high, by pronouncing the vowel _[=a]_. often merely thinking of one or the other is enough to put the larynx, tongue, and palate in the right relations to each other. whenever i sing in a high vocal range, i can plainly feel the larynx rise and take a diagonal position. (see plate.) the movement is, of course, very slight. yet i have the feeling in my throat as if everything in it was stretching. i feel the pliability of my organs plainly as soon as i sing higher. section x sensation and position of the tongue we feel the placing of its tip against or beneath the front teeth; and place the tip very low, so that it really curves over in front. (see plate.) its hinder part must be drawn back toward the palate, in the pronunciation of every letter. furthermore, by looking in the mirror we can _see_ that the sides of the tongue are raised as soon as we wish to form a furrow in it; that is, as we _must_ do to produce the palatal resonance. (only in the head tone--that is, the use of the resonance of the head cavities without the added palatal resonance--has the tongue no furrow; it must, however, lie very high, since otherwise its mass, when it lies flat, presses against the larynx and produces pinched or otherwise disagreeable tones.) the best way is to get the mass of the tongue out of the way by forming the furrow in it. in high notes, when the larynx must stand as high as possible, the back of the tongue also must stand very high; but since there is a limit to this, we are often compelled to make the larynx take a lower position. [illustration: correct. incorrect.] the correct position of the tongue, preparatory to singing, is gained by saying the vowel sound _aou_, as if about to yawn. the tongue must not scrape around upward with its tip. as soon as the tip has been employed in the pronunciation of the consonants _l_, _n_, _s_, _t_, and _z_, in which its service is very short and sharp, it must return to its former position, and keep to it. it is best to watch the movements of the tongue in the mirror until we have formed the correct habit permanently. the more elastic the tongue is in preparing the form for the breath to pass through, the stiller will it appear, the stiller will it feel to us. it is well, however, for a considerable time to watch in a mirror all functions of the organs that can be seen; the expression of the face, the position of the mouth, and the movement of the lips. section xi the sensations of the palate the sensations of the palate are best made clear to us by raising the softest part behind the nose. this part is situated very far back. try touching it carefully with the finger. this little part is of immeasurable importance to the singer. by raising it the entire resonance of the head cavities is brought into play--consequently the head tones are produced. when it is raised, the pillars of the fauces are lowered. in its normal position it allows the pillars to be distended and to close the head cavities off from the throat, in order to produce the chest tones; that is, to permit the breath to make fullest use of the palatal resonance. as soon as the soft palate is lowered under the nose, it makes a point of resonance for the middle range of voice, by permitting the overtones to resound at the same time in the nose. (see plate, middle range.) [illustration: red lines denote middle range of soprano, contralto, and tenor. in the german names of the notes, _h_ represents _b_ in the english.] [illustration: red line denotes peak, or softest point of the palate.] thus the palate performs the whole work so far as concerns the different resonances, which can be united and separated by it, but must _always work together in close relation, always bound together in all tones, in all kinds of voices_. the lowest chest tones of the bass, the highest head tones of the soprano, are thus the two poles between which the entire gamut of all voices can be formed. from this it can be perceived that with a certain degree of skill and willingness to work, every voice will be capable of great extension. section xii the sensation of the resonance of the head cavities the sensation of the resonance of the head cavities is perceived chiefly by those who are unaccustomed to using the head tones. the resonance against the occipital walls of the head cavities when the head tones are employed, at first causes a very marked irritation of the nerves of the head and ear. but this disappears as soon as the singer gets accustomed to it. the head tones can be used and directed by the breath only with a clear head. the least depression such as comes with headaches, megrim, or moodiness may have the worst effect, or even make their use quite impossible. this feeling of oppression is lost after regular, conscious practice, by which all unnecessary and disturbing pressure is avoided. in singing very high head tones i have a feeling as if they lay high above the head, as if i were setting them off into the air. (see plate.) here, too, is the explanation of singing _in the neck_. the breath, in all high tones which are much mixed with head tones or use them entirely, passes very far back, directly from the throat into the cavities of the head, and thereby, and through the oblique position of the larynx, gives rise to the sensations just described. a singer who inhales and exhales carefully, that is, with knowledge of the physiological processes, will always have a certain feeling of pleasure, an attenuation in the throat as if it were stretching itself upward. the bulging out of veins in the neck, that can so often be seen in singers, is as wrong as the swelling up of the neck, looks very ugly, and is not without danger from congestion. with rapid scales and trills one has the feeling of great firmness of the throat muscles, as well as of a certain stiffness of the larynx. (see "trills.") an unsteady movement of the latter, this way and that, would be disadvantageous to the trill, to rapid scales, as well as to the cantilena. for this reason, because the changing movements of the organs must go on quite imperceptibly and inaudibly, it must be more like a shifting than a movement. in rapid scales the lowest tone must be "placed" with a view to the production of the highest, and in descending, the greatest care must be exercised that the tone shall not tumble over each other single, but shall produce the sensation of closely connected sounds, through being bound to the high tone position and pressed toward the nose. in this all the participating vocal organs must be able to keep up a muscular contraction, often very rigid: a thing that is to be achieved only gradually through long years of careful and regular study. excessive practice is of no use in this--only regular and intelligent practice; and success comes only in course of time. [illustration: red line denotes vocal sensation of soprano and tenor.] never should the muscular contractions become convulsive and produce pressure which the muscles cannot endure for a long time. they must respond to all necessary demands upon their strength, yet remain elastic in order that, easily relaxing or again contracting, they may promptly adapt themselves to every nuance in tone and accent desired by the singer. a singer can become and continue to be master of his voice and means of expression only as long as he practises daily correct vocal gymnastics. in this way alone can he obtain unconditional mastery over his muscles, and, through them, of the finest controlling apparatus, of the beauty of his voice, as well as of the art of song as a whole. training the muscles of the vocal organs so that their power to contract and relax to all desired degrees of strength, throughout the entire gamut of the voice, is always at command, makes the master singer. as i have already said, the idea of "singing forward" leads very many singers to force the breath from the mouth without permitting it to make full use of the resonating surfaces that it needs, yet it streams forth from the larynx really very far back in the throat, and the straighter it rises in a column behind the tongue, the better it is for the tone. the tongue must furnish the surrounding form for this, for which reason it must not lie flat in the mouth. (see plate, the tongue.) the whirling currents of tone circling around their focal point (the attack) find a cup-shaped resonating cavity when they reach the front of the mouth and the lips, which, through their extremely potent auxiliary movements, infuse life and color into the tone and the word. of equal importance are the unimpeded activity of the whirling currents of sound and their complete filling of the resonating spaces in the back of the throat, the pillars of the fauces, and the head cavities in which the vocalized breath must be kept soaring above the larynx and _soaring undisturbed_. in the lowest range of the voice the entire palate from the front teeth to the rear wall of the throat must be thus filled. (see plate.) [illustration: red lines denote division of the breath in the palatal resonance: lower range of male and female voices.] with higher tones the palate is lowered, the nostrils are inflated, and above the hard palate a passage is formed for the overtones. (see plate.) [illustration: red lines denote division of the breath in the middle range and higher middle range.] this air which soars above must, however, not be in the least compressed; the higher the tone, the less pressure should there be; for here, too, whirling currents are formed, which must be neither interrupted nor destroyed. the breath must be carried along on the wall of the throat without compression, in order to accomplish its work. (see plate, high tones.) [illustration: resonance of the cavity of the forehead. red lines denote division of the breath in the resonance of the head cavities, high range.] singing forward, then, does not mean pressing the whole of the _breath_ or the tone forward, but only part of it; that is, in the middle register, finding a resonating focus in front, caused by the lowering of the front of the palate. this permits a free course only to that part of the breath which is used up by the whirling currents in the resonant throat form, and serves to propagate the outer waves, and carry them farther through space. section xiii singing covered we sing covered as soon as the soft palate is lowered toward the nose (that is, in the middle register), and the resonance and attack are transferred thither so that the breath can flow over the soft palate through the nose. this special function of the palate, too, should be carefully prepared for in the tones that precede it, and mingled with them, in order not to be heard so markedly as it often is. in men's voices this is much more plainly audible than in women's; but both turn it to account equally on different tones. this often produces a new register that should not be produced. this belongs to the chapter on registers. [music illustration] the tone is concentrated on the front of the palate instead of being spread over all of it--but this must not be done too suddenly. [see illustrations on pages , , , .] [illustration: red lines denote covered tones for contralto and soprano.] [illustration: red lines denote covered tones for bass and baritone.] [illustration: red lines denote change of attack. (soprano, contralto, and tenor.)] [illustration: red lines denote change of attack. (bass and baritone.)] section xiv on vocal registers what is a vocal register? a series of tones sung in a certain way, which are produced by a certain position of the vocal organs--larynx, tongue, and palate. every voice includes three registers--chest, middle, and head. but all are not employed in every class of voice. two of them are often found connected to a certain extent in beginners; the third is usually much weaker, or does not exist at all. only very rarely is a voice found naturally equalized over its whole compass. do registers exist by nature? no. it may be said that they are created through long years of speaking in the vocal range that is easiest to the person, or in one adopted by imitation, which then becomes a fixed habit. if this is coupled with a natural and proper working of the muscles of the vocal organs, it may become the accustomed range, strong in comparison with others, and form a register by itself. this fact would naturally be appreciated only by singers. if, on the other hand, the muscles are wrongly employed in speaking, not only the range of voice generally used, but the whole voice as well, may be made to sound badly. so, in every voice, one or another range may be stronger or weaker; and this is, in fact, almost always the case, since mankind speaks and sings in the pitch easiest or most accustomed, without giving thought to the proper position of the organs in relation to each other; and people are rarely made to pay attention as children to speaking clearly and in an agreeable voice. in the most fortunate instances the range thus practised reaches limits on both sides, not so much those of the person's power, as those set by his lack of skill, or practice. limitations are put on the voice through taking account only of the easiest and most accustomed thing, without inquiring into the potentialities of the organs or the demands of art. [illustration: red lines denote a register is formed when as many tones as possible are forced upon one and the same point of resonance. (bass and baritone.)] [illustration: red lines denote a register is formed when as many tones as possible are forced upon one and the same point of resonance. (soprano, contralto, and tenor.)] now, suppose such a peculiarity which includes, let us say, three or four tones, is extended to six or eight, then, in the course of time, in the worst cases, a break is produced at the outside limits. in the most favorable cases the tones lying next beyond these limits are conspicuously weak and without power compared with those previously forced. this one way of singing can be used no farther; another must be taken up, only, perhaps, to repeat farther the incorrect procedure. three such limits or ways of singing can be found and used. chest, middle, and head voice, all three form registers when exaggerated; but they should be shaded off and melt into each other. the organs, through the skilful training of the teacher, as well as by the exercise of the pupil's talent and industry, must be accustomed to taking such positions that one register leads into another imperceptibly. in this way beauty, equality, and increased compass of the voice will be made to enhance its usefulness. when the three ways of singing are too widely different and too sharply contrasted, they become separate registers. these are everywhere accepted as a matter of course, and for years have been a terror in the teaching of singing, that has done more than anything else to create a dreadful bewilderment among singers and teachers. to eradicate it is probably hopeless. yet, these registers are nothing more than three disconnected manners of using the vocal and resonating apparatus. with all the bad habits of singers, with all the complete ignorance of cause and effect, that prevail, it is not surprising that some pretend to tell us that there are two, three, four, or five registers, although as a matter of fact there can be at most three in any voice. it will be much more correct to call every tone of every voice by the name of a new additional register, for in the end, every tone will and _must_ be taken in a different relation, with a different position of the organs, although the difference may be imperceptible, if it is to have its proper place in the whole. people cling to the appellations of chest, middle, and head _register_, confounding voice with register, and making a hopeless confusion, from which only united and very powerful forces can succeed in extricating them. as long as the word "register" is kept in use, the registers will not disappear. and yet, the register question must be swept away, to give place to another class of ideas, sounder views on the part of teachers, and a truer conception on the part of singers and pupils. section xv development and equalization naturally, a singer can devote more strength to the development of one or two connected ranges of his voice than to a voice perfectly equalized in all its accessible ranges. for this are required many years of the most patient study and observation, often a long-continued or entire sacrifice of one or the other limit of a range for the benefit of the next-lying weaker one; of the head voice especially, which, if unmixed, sounds uneven and thin in comparison with the middle range, until by means of practised elasticity of the organs and endurance of the throat muscles a positive equalization can take place. voices which contain only one or two registers are called short voices, for their availability is as limited as they are themselves. yet it must be remembered that all voices alike, whether short or long, even those of the most skilful singers, when age comes on, are apt to lose their highest ranges, if they are not continually practised throughout their entire compass with the subtlest use of the head tones. thence it is to be concluded that a singer ought always to extend the compass of his voice as far as possible, in order to be certain of possessing the compass that he needs. on the formation of the organs depends much of the character of the voice. there are strong, weak, deep, and high voices by nature; but every voice, by means of proper study, can attain a certain degree of strength, flexibility, and compass. unfortunately, stubbornness enters largely into this question, and often works in opposition to the teacher. many, for instance, wish to be altos, either because they are afraid of ruining their voices by working for a higher compass, or because it is easier for them, even if their voices are not altos at all. nowadays operas are no longer composed for particular singers and the special characteristics of their voices. composers and librettists express what they feel without regard to an alto singer who has no high c or a soprano who has no low a flat or g. but the _artist_ will always find what he needs. registers exist in the voices of almost all singers, but they ought not to be heard, ought not, indeed, to exist. everything should be sung with a mixed voice in such a way that no tone is forced at the expense of any other. to avoid monotony the singer should have at his disposal a wealth of means of expression in all ranges of his voice. (see the varieties of attack and dynamic power.) before all else he should have knowledge of the advantages in the resonance of certain tones, and of their connection with each other. the _soul_ must provide the color; skill and knowledge as to cause and effect, management of the breath, and perfection of the throat formation must give the power to produce every dynamic gradation and detail of expression. registers are, accordingly, produced when the singer forces a series of tones, generally ascending, upon one and the same resonating point, instead of remembering that in a progression of tones no one tone can be exactly like another, because the position of the organs must be different for each. the palate must remain elastic from the front teeth to its hindmost part, mobile and susceptible, though imperceptibly, to all changes. very much depends on the continuous harmony of action of the soft and hard palate, which must always be in full evidence, the raising and extension of the former producing changes in the tone. if, as often happens when the registers are sharply defined, tones fall into a _cul de sac_, escape into another register is impossible, without a jump, which may lead to disaster. with every tone that the singer has to sing, he must always have the feeling that he _can_ go higher, and that the attack for different tones must not be forced upon one and the same point. the larynx must not be _suddenly_ pressed down nor jerked up, except when this is desired as a special effect. that is, when one wishes to make a transition, _legato_, from a chest tone to a tone in the middle or head register, as the old italians used to do, and as i, too, learned to do, thus:-- [music illustration] in this case the chest tone is attacked very nasal, in order that the connection may remain to the upper note, and the larynx is suddenly jerked up to the high tone. this was called breaking the tone; it was very much used, and gave fine effects when it was well done. i use it to-day, especially in italian music, where it belongs. it is an exception to the rule for imperceptible or inaudible change of position of the organs,--that it should not be made _suddenly_. the scale proceeds from one semitone to another; each is different; each, as you go on, requires greater height, wherefore the position of the organs cannot remain the same for several different tones. but, as there should never be an abrupt change audible in the way of singing, so should there never be an abrupt change felt in the sensations of the singer's throat. every tone must be imperceptibly prepared in an elastic channel and must produce an easy feeling in the singer, as well as an agreeable impression upon the listener. the small peak indicated in the illustration is enormously extensible and can be shifted into infinite varieties of position. however unimportant its raising and lowering may appear, they are nevertheless of great importance for the tone and the singer. the focal point of the breath, that forms simultaneously the attack and the body of the tone, by the operation of the abdominal breath pressure against the chest, is always firmly placed on, beneath, or behind the nose. without body even the finest pianissimo has no significance. the very highest unmixed head tones are an exception, and they can express nothing. there can be no body expected in them. their soaring quality of sound endures no pressure, and consequently gives no expression, which is possible only through an admixture of palatal resonance. their only significance is gained through their pure euphony. all vowels, too, must keep their point of resonance uninterruptedly on the palate. all beauty in the art of song, in cantilena as well as in all technique, consists chiefly in uninterrupted connection between the tone and the word, in the flexible connection of the soft palate with the hard, in the continually elastic adjustment of the former to the latter. this means simply the elastic form, which the breath must fill in every corner of resonating surface without interruption, as long as the tone lasts. [illustration: red line denotes softest point on the palate.] if the singer will control his tone,--and in practising he must always do so,--he needs only to test it to see whether he can easily make it softer without perceptible change in the position of the organs, and carry it higher toward the nose and the cavities of the forehead; that is, prepare a form for its continuation upward. _in this way he can learn how much height a tone needs without being too high, and how much it often lacks in height and duration to sound high enough._ in this way remarkable faults become evident! the reason why a tone sounds too low--the so-called transition tones from the lower to the middle range and from this to the higher, come up for consideration chiefly--is that the pillars of the fauces are raised too high toward the back, preventing the head tones from sounding at the same time; or the soft palate is lowered too far under the nose, which results in pressing the tone too long and too far toward the teeth. this fault is met with in very many singers, in all kinds of voices, and in almost the same places. it comes only from an unyielding retention of the same resonating point for several tones and a failure to bring in the resonance of the head cavities. the "propagation form," or continuing form,[ ] must always be prepared consciously, for without it artistic singing is not to be thought of. [footnote : "fortpflanzungsform": the preparation made in the vocal organs for taking the next tone before leaving the one under production, so that the succeeding tones shall all be of like character and quality.] the neglect of this most important principle usually results in overstraining the vocal cords and throat muscles. this is followed first by singing flat, and later by the appearance of the hideous tremolo (see tremolo) to which so many singers fall victims. the cause of a tone's being too sharp is the dwelling too long on the resonance of the head cavities, where the tone should already have been mixed with palatal resonance. with very young voices this can easily happen, and can also result from weariness, when the bodily strength is not developed sufficiently to endure the fatigue of practising. a very circumspect course must then be followed. section xvi white voices there are also singers, male and female, who use too much head tone through their entire compass; such voices are called "white." their use of the palatal resonance being insufficient, they are not able to make a deeper impression, because their power of expression is practically nothing. frau wedekind and madame melba are instances of this. in such cases it would be advisable to raise the pillars of the fauces a little higher, and place the larynx somewhat lower, and to mingle judiciously with all the other vowels, the vowel sound _oo_, that requires a lower position of the larynx. the voices would become warmer and would sound more expressive. as soon as the singer is able to create easily and inaudibly on every tone the correct propagation form for the next tone, all questions as to register must disappear. he must not, however, be drilled on _registers_; several tones must not be forced on one and the same point. every tone should be put naturally into its own place; should receive the pitch, duration, and strength it needs for its perfection. and one master rules it all,--the ear! the goal is, unfortunately, so seldom reached because it can be reached only through the moderation that comes from mastery; and, alas! only true masters practise it. it may be accepted as true that the lower ranges of the voice have the greatest strength, the middle ranges the greatest power of expression, the higher the greatest carrying power. the best mixture--all three together--may be developed to the highest art by the skill of the individual, often, indeed, only by a good ear for it. whenever expression of the word's significance, beauty of the vocal material, and perfection of phrasing are found united in the highest degree, it is due either to knowledge or to a natural skill in the innumerable ways of fitting the sung word to the particular resonance--connections that are suitable to realize its significance, and hence its spirit. they are brought out by a stronger inclination toward one or the other of the resonance surfaces, without, however, injuring the connection or the beauty of the musical phrase. here aesthetic feeling plays the chief part, for whatever may be its power and its truthfulness, the result must always be beautiful,--that is, restrained within proper limits. this law, too, remains the same for all voices. it is a question of the entire compass of a voice trained for artistic singing, one that is intrusted with the greatest of tasks, to interpret works of art that are no popular songs, but, for the most part, human tragedies. most male singers--tenors especially--consider it beneath them, generally, indeed, unnatural or ridiculous, to use the falsetto, which is a part of all male voices, as the head tones are a part of all female voices. they do not understand how to make use of its assistance, because they often have no idea of its existence, or know it only in its unmixed purity--that is, its thinnest quality. of its proper application they have not the remotest conception. their singing is generally in accordance with their ignorance. the mixture is present by nature in all kinds of voices, but singers must possess the skill and knowledge to employ it, else the natural advantage goes for nothing. section xvii theodor wachtel the most perfect singer that i remember in my berlin experience was theodor wachtel in this respect, that with his voice of rare splendor, he united all that vocal art which, as it seems, is destined quite to disappear from among us. how beautiful were his coloratura, his trills,--simply flawless! phrasing, force, fulness of tone, and beauty were perfect, musically without a blemish. if he did not go outside the range of arnold, g. brown, stradella, vasco, the postillion and lionel, it was probably because he felt that he was not equal to interpreting the wagnerian spirit. in this he was very wise. as one of the first of vocal artists, whose voice was superbly trained and was preserved to the end of his life, i have had to pay to wachtel the tribute of the most complete admiration and recognition, in contrast to many others who thought themselves greater than he, and yet were not worthy to unloose the latchet of his shoes. recently the little italian tenor bonci has won my hearty admiration for his splendidly equalized voice, his perfect art, and his knowledge of his resources; and notwithstanding the almost ludicrous figure that he cut in serious parts, he elicited hearty applause. cannot german tenors, too, learn to sing _well_, even if they do interpret wagner? will they not learn, for the sake of this very master, that it is their duty not to use their voices recklessly? is it not disrespectful toward our greatest masters that they always have to play hide and seek with the _bel canto_, the trill, and coloratura? not till one has fully realized the difficulties of the art of song, does it really become of value and significance. not till then are one's eyes opened to the duty owed not only to one's self but to the public. the appreciation of a difficulty makes study doubly attractive; the laborious ascent of a summit which no one can contest, is the attainment of a goal. voices in which the palatal resonance--and so, power--is the predominating factor, are the hardest to manage and to preserve. they are generally called chest voices. uncommon power and fulness of tone in the middle ranges are extremely seductive. only rarely are people found with sense enough to renounce such an excess of fulness in favor of the head tones,--that is, the least risky range to exploit and preserve,--even if this has to be done only temporarily. copious vocal resources may with impunity be brought before the public and thereby submitted to strain, only after long and regular study. the pure head tone, without admixture of palatal resonance, is feeble close at hand, but penetrating and of a carrying power equalled by no other. palatal resonance without admixture of the resonance of the head cavities (head tones) makes the tone very powerful when heard near by, but without vibrancy for a large auditorium. this is the proof of how greatly _every_ tone needs the proper admixture. section xviii the highest head tones as we have already seen, there is almost no limit to the height that can be reached by the pure head tone without admixture of palatal resonance. very young voices, especially, can reach such heights, for without any strain they possess the necessary adaptability and skill in the adjustment to each other of the larynx, tongue, and pillars of the fauces. a skill that rests on ignorance of the true nature of the phenomenon must be called pure chance, and thus its disappearance is as puzzling to teacher and listener as its appearance had been in the first place. how often is it paired with a total lack of ability to produce anything but the highest head tones! as a general rule such voices have a very short lease of life, because their possessors are exploited as wonders, before they have any conception of the way to use them, of tone, right singing, and of cause and effect in general. an erroneous pressure of the muscles, a wrong movement of the tongue (raising the tip, for instance, [illustration]), an attempt to increase the strength of the tone,--all these things extinguish quickly and for all time the wonder-singer's little light. we lehmann children in our youth could sing to the very highest pitch. it was nothing for my sister marie to strike the -line _e_ a hundred times in succession, and trill on it for a long time. she could have sung in public at the age of seven. but since our voices, through the circumstances of our life and surroundings, were forced to early exertions, they lost their remarkable high notes; yet enough was left to sing the _queen of night_ (in mozart's opera "die zauberflöte"), with the high _f_. after i had been compelled to use my lower and middle ranges much more, in the study of dramatic parts, i omitted the highest notes from my practice, but could not then always have relied on them. now that i know on what it all depends, it is very easy for me to strike high _f_, not only in passing, but to combine it with any tone through three octaves. but upon the least pressure by any organ, the head resonance loses its brilliancy; that is, the breath no longer streams into the places where it should, and can create no more whirling currents of sound to fill the spaces. but one should not suppose that the head tones have no power. when they are properly used, their vibrancy is a substitute for any amount of power. as soon as the head tones come into consideration, one should _never_ attempt to sing an open _ah_, because on _ah_ the tongue lies flattest. one should think of an _[=a]_, and in the highest range even an _[=e]_; should mix the _[=a]_ and _[=e]_ with the _ah_, and thereby produce a position of the tongue and soft palate that makes the path clear for the introduction of the breath into the cavities of the head. [illustration: red lines denote vocal sensation in the highest head tones without mixture.] singers who, on the other hand, pronounce _[=a]_ and _[=e]_ too sharply, need only introduce an admixture of _oo_; they thereby lower the position of the larynx, and thus give the vowel and tone a darker color. since the stream of breath in the highest tones produces currents whirling with great rapidity, the more rapidly the higher the tone is, the slightest pressure that may injure the form in which they circulate may ruin the evenness of the tone, its pitch, perhaps the tone itself. each high tone must _soar gently_, like the overtones. the upper limits of a bass and baritone voice are [music illustration] where, consequently, the tones must be mixed. pure head tones, that is, falsetto, are never demanded higher than this. i regard it, however, as absolutely necessary for the artist to give consideration to his falsetto, that he may include it among his known resources. neither a bass nor a baritone should neglect to give it the proper attention, and both should learn to use it as one of their most important auxiliary forces. with what mastery did betz make use of it; how noble and beautiful his voice sounded in all its ranges; of what even strength it was, and how infallibly fresh! and let no one believe that nature gave it to him thus. as a beginner in berlin he was quite unsatisfactory. he had the alternative given him either to study with great industry or to seek another engagement, for his successor had already been selected. betz chose to devote himself zealously to study; he began also to play the 'cello; he learned to _hear_, and finally raised himself to be one of our first singers, in many rôles never to be forgotten. betz knew, like myself, many things that to-day are neither taught nor learned. section xix extension of the compass and equalization of registers the whole secret of both consists in the proper raising and lowering of the soft palate, and the pillars of the fauces connected with it. this divides into two resonating divisions the breath coming from the source of supply, and forced against the chest, whereby it is put under control, as it escapes vocalized from the larynx. it consists also in the singer's natural adaptability and skill, in so placing the palate and resonance of the head cavities, or keeping them in readiness for every tone, as the pitch, strength, and duration of the individual tones or series of connected tones, with their propagation form, shall demand. section xx the tremolo big voices, produced by large, strong organs, through which the breath can flow in a broad, powerful stream, are easily disposed to suffer from the tremolo, because the outflow of the breath against the vocal cords occurs too _immediately_. the breath is sent directly out from the lungs and the body, instead of being driven by the abdominal pressure forward against the chest and the controlling apparatus. not till this has been done, should it be admitted, in the smallest amounts, and under control to the vocal cords. it does not pause, but streams through them without burdening them, though keeping them always more or less stretched, in which the muscular power of contraction and relaxation assists. streaming _gently_ out from the vocal cords, it is now led, with the support of the tongue, to its resonance chambers, all the corners of which it fills up equally. even the strongest vocal cords cannot for any length of time stand the uncontrolled pressure of the breath. they lose their tension, and the result is the tremolo. in inhaling, the chest should be raised not at all or but very little. (for this reason exercises for the expansion of the chest must be practised.) the pressure of the breath _against_ the chest must be maintained as long as it is desired to sustain a tone or sing a phrase. as soon as the pressure of the abdomen and chest ceases, the tone and the breath are at an end. not till toward the very end of the breath, that is, of the tone or the phrase, should the pressure be slowly relaxed, and the chest slowly sink. while i am singing, i must press the breath against the chest _evenly_, for in this way alone can it be directed evenly against the vocal cords, which is the chief factor in a steady tone and the only possible and proper use of the vocal cords. the uninterrupted control of the breath pressure against the chest gives to the tone, as soon as it has found a focal point on the raised palate at the attack, the basis, the body, which must be maintained even in the softest pianissimo. control of the breath should never cease. the tone should never be made too strong to be kept under control, nor too weak to be kept under control. this should be an inflexible rule for the singer. i direct my whole attention to the pressure against the chest, which forms the door of the supply chamber of breath. thence i admit to the vocal cords uninterruptedly only just so much as i wish to admit. i must not be stingy, nor yet extravagant with it. besides giving steadiness, the pressure against the chest (the controlling apparatus) establishes the strength and the duration of the tone. upon the proper control depends the length of the breath, which, without interruption, rises from here toward the resonating chambers, and, expelled into the elastic form of the resonating apparatus, there must obey our will. [illustration: vocal cords.] it can now be seen how easily the vocal cords can be injured by an uncontrolled current of breath, if it is directed against them in all its force. one need only see a picture of the vocal cords to understand the folly of exposing these delicate little bands to the explosive force of the breath. they cannot be protected too much; and also, they cannot be too carefully exercised. they must be spared all work not properly theirs; this must be put upon the chest tension muscles, which in time learn to endure an out-and-out thump. even the vibrato, to which full voices are prone, should be nipped in the bud, for gradually the tremolo, and later even worse, is developed from it. life can be infused into the tone by means of the lips--that is, in a way that will do no harm. but of that later. vibrato is the first stage, tremolo the second; a third and last, and much more hopeless, shows itself in flat singing on the upper middle tones of the register. referable in the same way to the overburdening of the vocal cords is the excessive straining of the throat muscles, which, through continual constriction, lose their power of _elastic_ contraction and relaxation because pitch and duration of the tone are gained in an incorrect way, by forcing. neither should be forced; pitch should be merely maintained, as it were, soaring; strength should not be gained by a cramped compression of the throat muscles, but by the completest possible filling with breath of the breath-form and the resonance chambers, under the government of the controlling apparatus. _neglect of the head tones (overtones) is paid for dearly._ the more violent exertions are made to force them, and to keep them, the worse are the results. for most of the unhappy singers who do this, there is but one result: the voice is lost. how pitiful! if the first and second stages of tremolo are difficult to remedy, because the causes are rarely understood and the proper measures to take for their removal still more rarely, the repair of the last stage of the damage is nothing less than a fight, in which only an unspeakable patience can win the victory. section xxi the cure there are no magic cures for the singer. only slowly, vibration upon vibration, can the true pitch be won back. in the word "soaring" lies the whole idea of the work. no more may the breath be allowed to flow uncontrolled through the wearied vocal cords; it must be forced against the chest, always, as if it were to come directly out thence. the throat muscles must lie fallow until they have lost the habit of cramped contraction; until the overtones again soar as they should, and are kept soaring long, though quite _piano_. at first this seems quite impossible, and is indeed very difficult, demanding all the patient's energy. but it is possible, and he cannot avoid it, for it is the only way to a thorough cure. the patient has an extremely disagreeable period to pass through. if he is industrious and careful, he will soon find it impossible to sing in his old way; but the new way is for the most part quite unfamiliar to him, because his ear still hears as it has previously been accustomed to hear. it may be that years will pass before he can again use the muscles, so long maltreated. but he should not be dismayed at this prospect. if he can no longer use his voice in public as a singer, he certainly can as a teacher--for _a teacher must be able to sing well_. how should he describe to others sensations in singing which he himself never felt? is it not as if he undertook to teach a language that he did not speak himself? or an instrument that he did not play himself? when he himself does not hear, how shall he teach others to hear? the degree of the evil, and the patient's skill, naturally have much to do with the rapidity of the cure. but one cannot throw off a habit of years' standing like an old garment; and every new garment, too, is uncomfortable at first. one cannot expect an immediate cure, either of himself or of others. if the singer undertakes it with courage and energy, he learns to use his voice with conscious understanding, as should have been done in the beginning. and he must make up his mind to it, that even after a good cure, the old habits will reappear, like corns in wet weather, whenever he is not in good form physically. that should not lead to discouragement; persistence will bring success. as i have already said, singers with disabled voices like best to try "magic cures"; and there are teachers and pupils who boast of having effected such magic cures in a few weeks or hours. _of them i give warning!_ and _equally_, of unprincipled physicians who daub around in the larynx, burn it, cut it, and make everything worse instead of better. i cannot comprehend why singers do not unite to brand such people publicly and put an end to their doings once for all. there is no other remedy than a slow, very careful study of the _causes_ of the trouble, which in almost all cases consist in lack of control of the stream of breath through the vocal cords, and in disregard of the head tones, that is, of the overtones; as well as in forcing the pitch and power of the tone upon a wrong resonating point of the palate, and in constricting the throat muscles. in these points almost invariably are all mistakes to be looked for; and in the recognition of them the proper means for correcting them are already indicated. the cure is difficult and tedious. it needs an endless patience on the part of the sufferer as well as of the physician--that is, of the pupil and the _singing teacher_ (the only proper physician for this disease)--because the nerves of the head are already sufficiently unstrung through the consciousness of their incapacity; yet they should be able to act easily and without effort in producing the head tones. the repairing of a voice requires the greatest sympathetic appreciation and circumspection on the part of the teacher, who should always inspire the pupil with courage; and on the part of the pupil, all his tranquillity, nervous strength, and patience, in order to reach the desired goal. _where there is a will there is a way!_ section xxii the tongue since it is the function of the tongue to conduct the column of breath above the larynx to the resonance chambers, too much attention cannot be given to it and its position, in speaking as well as in singing. if it lies too high or too low, it may, by constricting the breath, produce serious changes in the tone, making it pinched or even shutting it off entirely. it has an extremely delicate and difficult task to perform. it must be in such a position as not to press upon the larynx. tongue and larynx must keep out of each other's way, although they always work in coöperation; but one must not hamper the other, and when one can withdraw no farther out of the way, the other must take it upon itself to do so. for this reason the back of the tongue must be raised high, the larynx stand low. the tongue must generally form a furrow. with the lowest tones it lies relatively flattest, the tip _always_ against and beneath the front teeth, so that it can rise in the middle. as soon as the furrow is formed, the mass of the tongue is put out of the way, since it stands high on both sides. it is almost impossible to make drawings of this; it can best be seen in the mirror. as soon as the larynx is low enough and the tongue set elastically against the palate and drawn up behind (see plate _a_), the furrow is formed of itself. in pronouncing the vowel _ah_ (which must always be mixed with _[=oo]_ and _o_), it is a good idea to think of yawning. the furrow must be formed in order to allow the breath to resonate against the palate beneath the nose, especially in the middle range; that is, what a bass and a baritone (whose highest range is not now under consideration) would call their high range, all other voices their middle. without the furrow in the tongue, no tone is perfect in its resonance, none can make full use of it. the only exception is the very highest head and falsetto tones, which are without any palatal resonance and have their place solely in the head cavities. strong and yet delicate, it must be able to fit any letter of the alphabet; that is, help form its sound. it must be of the greatest sensitiveness in adapting itself to every tonal vibration, it must assist every change of tone and letter as quick as a flash and with unerring accuracy; without changing its position too soon or remaining too long in it, in the highest range it must be able almost to speak out in the air. with all its strength and firmness this furrow must be of the utmost sensitiveness toward the breath, which, as i have often said, must not be subjected to the least pressure above the larynx or in the larynx itself. pressure must be limited to the abdominal and chest muscles; and this might better be called stress than pressure. without hindrance the column of breath, at its upper end like diverging rays of light, must fill and expand all the mucous membranes with its vibrations equally, diffuse itself through the resonance chambers and penetrate the cavities of the head. when the back of the tongue can rise no higher, the larynx must be lowered. this often happens in the highest ranges, and one needs only to mingle an _oo_ in the vowel to be sung, which must, however, be sounded not forward in the mouth but _behind the nose_. when the larynx must stand very low, the tongue naturally must not be _too_ high, else it would affect the position of the larynx. the mass of the tongue must then be disposed of elsewhere; that is, by the formation of a furrow (see plate). one must learn to feel and hear it. to keep the larynx, the back of the tongue, and the palate always in readiness to offer mutual assistance, must become a habit. i feel the interplay of tongue and larynx in my own case as shown in the plates. as soon as we have the tongue under control,--that is, have acquired the habit of forming a furrow,--we can use it confidently as a support for the breath and the tone, and for vowels. on its incurving back it holds firmly the vowels; with its tip, many of the consonants. with all its elasticity, it must be trained to great strength and endurance. i, for instance, after every syllable, at once jerk my tongue with tremendous power back to its normal position in singing; that is, with its tip below the front teeth and the base raised [illustration]. that goes on constantly, as quick as a flash. at the same time my larynx takes such a position that the tongue cannot interfere with it, that is, press upon it. by quickly raising the tongue toward the back, it is taken out of the way of the larynx, and the mass of the tongue is cleared from the throat. in the middle range, where the tongue or the larynx might be too high or too low, the furrow, which is of so much importance, is formed, in order to lead the vocalized breath first against the front of the palate beneath the nose, then slowly along the nose and behind it. then when the highest point (the peak, which is extremely extensible) is reached, the pillars of the fauces are lowered, in order to leave the way for the head tones to the head cavities entirely free. in doing this, the sides of the tongue are raised high. every tongue should occupy only so much space as it can occupy without being a hindrance to the tone. the bad, bad tongue! one is too thick, another too thin, a third too long, a fourth much too short. _ladies and gentlemen, these are nothing but the excuses of the lazy!_ [illustration: red lines denote that with the inspiration of breath: i, the diaphragm is sensibly stretched backward; ii, enlarges the capacity of the chest by the drawing down of its floor; iii, and so forms the supply chamber for the breath; iv, indicates the pressure of the breath against the chest tension muscles; v, the attack.] section xxiii preparation for singing no one can sing properly without first preparing for it, mentally and physically, with all the organs concerned in the production of the voice. we have in this to perform three functions, simultaneously:-- _first_, to draw breath quietly, not too deeply; to force the breath against the chest and hold it there firmly till the upward and outward streaming--that is, singing--begins. (see plate, the path of the breath.) _second_, to raise the soft palate at the same time toward the nose, so that the breath remains stationary until the singing begins. _third_, to jerk the tongue backward at the same time, its back being thus raised, and elastic, ready to meet all the wishes of the singer,--that is, the needs of the larynx. the larynx must not be pressed either too low or too high, but must work freely. the breath is enabled to stream forth from it like a column, whose form is moulded above the larynx by the base of the tongue. when these three functions have been performed, all is ready. now the pitch of the tone is to be considered, as the singing begins. the consummation (höhepunkt) of the tone, above the palate, gives the point of attack itself, under the palate. now further care must be given that the point of attack on the palate--that is, the focal point of the breath--be not subjected to pressure, and that the entire supply of breath be not expended upon the palatal resonance. for this the palate must remain elastic, for it has a twofold duty to perform. it must not only furnish resistance for the focal point of the breath,--except in the very highest head tones,--around which it can be diffused; the same resistance, which stands against the stream of breath from below, must also afford a firm, pliant, and elastic floor for the overtones, which, soaring above the palate, shift, as is needed, to or above the hard and soft palate, or are divided in the nose, forehead, and head cavities. it can easily be seen how any pressure in singing can be dangerous everywhere, and how careful the singer is forced to be to avoid such mistakes. section xxiv the position of the mouth (contraction of the muscles of speech) what must my sensations be with the muscles of speech? how shall i control them? the best position of the mouth, the means of securing the proper use of the muscles of speech and of the vocal organs, is established by pronouncing the vowel _[=a]_, not too sharply, in the middle range of the voice, and trying to retain the position of the muscles after the sound has ceased. this cannot be done without a _smiling_ position of the mouth, consequently with a strong contraction of the muscles of the mouth, tongue, and throat, which can be felt to be drawn up as far as the ears. in doing so the tongue--as far as the tip--lies of a pretty nearly even height to the back [illustration], the soft palate soars without arching, but rather somewhat depressed over it. in pronouncing the vowels _[=a]_ and _[=e]_, the bright vowels, the full stream of the breath, in the given position, can only partly pass between the tongue and the palate. the other part is forced--unless the larynx stands too high and can choke it off--above the palate into the nasal cavities, to seek its opportunity for resonance. the path for _[=a]_ and _[=e]_ above the palate is worthy of all attention as a place for the overtones of the middle voice. if the soft palate, in the lower middle tones, is forced too far toward the hard palate, the covered tones are without vibrancy. one must needs secure the help of the nose especially, when the palate is sunk beneath the nose, by inflating the nostrils and letting air stream in and out of them. i repeat the warning, not to force several tones upon the same resonating point, but to see that upon each tone the form necessary for succeeding tones is prepared. neglect of this will sooner or later be paid for dearly. notwithstanding the strong muscular contraction that the vocal organs must undergo in pronouncing the vowel _[=a]_, the breath must be able to flow gently and without hindrance through its form, in order completely to fill up its resonance chambers. again, and always, attention must be given that in singing, and in speaking as well, nothing shall be cramped or held tense, except the pressure of the breath against the chest. it is of the utmost importance to maintain this position for _all_ vowels, with the least possible perceptible modifications. how can this be done? _a_ and _e_ are bright vowels, must be sung with a pleasant, almost smiling, position of the mouth. _u_ and _o_, on the contrary, are dark vowels, for which the lips must be drawn into a sort of spout. look at the position of the throat in these vowels: ( ) as they are usually sung and spoken; ( ) as i feel it, in singing, as i sing them, and as they must be sung and felt. section xxv connection of vowels how do i connect them with each other? if i wish to connect closely together two vowels that lie near to or far from each other, i must first establish the muscular contractions for _[=a]_, and introduce between the two vowels, whether they lie near together or far apart, a very well-defined _y_. then (supposing, for instance, that i want to connect _[=a]_ and _[=e]_) i must join the _[=a]_ closely to the _y_, and the _y_ closely to the _[=e]_, so that there is not the least resonating space between the two that is not filled during the changes in the position of the organs, however carefully this is undertaken. there must be no empty space, no useless escape of breath, between any two of the sounds. [illustration: oo [=e] o [=a] ah oo o [=e] y ah y [=a] y] [illustration: bad. oo [=e] o [=a] ah good. oo o [=e] ah [=a]] [illustration: wrong. oo [=e] o [=a] ah right. oo o [=e] ah [=a]] at first only two, then three and four, and then all the vowels in succession must be so practised:-- _a-ye, a-ye-yu, a-ye-yoo-yü, a-ye-yo-yü-yu-ye-yah._ but there must be never more than so much breath at hand as is needed to make the vowel and the tone perfect. the more closely the vowels are connected with the help of the _y_, the less breath is emitted from the mouth unused, the more intimate is the connection of tone, and the less noticeable are the changes of the position of the organs in relation to each other. when i pass from _y[=a]-y[=e]_ to _yoo_, i am compelled to develop very strongly the muscular contraction of the lips, which are formed into a long projecting spout; and this movement cannot be sufficiently exaggerated. with every new _y_ i must produce renewed muscular contractions of the vocal organs, which gradually, through continuous practice, are trained to become almost like the finest, most pliable steel, upon which the fullest reliance may be placed. from _yoo_ it is best to go to _yü_, that lies still farther forward and requires of the lips an iron firmness; then to _yo_, touching slightly on the _e_ that lies above the _o_; then return to _y[=a]_, and not till then going to _ye-ah_, which must then feel thus:-- e oo-o ah-[=a] y the _y_ is taken under the _ah_, that the word may not slide under; for usually the thought of _ah_ relaxes all the organs: the tongue lies flat, the larynx becomes unsteady, is without definite position, and the palate is not arched and is without firmness. in this way _ah_ becomes the most colorless and empty vowel of the whole list. with every change of vowel, or of any other letter, there are changes in the position of the organs, since tongue, palate, and larynx must take different positions for different sounds. with _[=a]_ and _[=e]_ the larynx stands higher, the palate is sunk, or in its normal position. with _oo_, _o_, and _ah_ the larynx stands low, the palate is arched. with _a_, _e_, and _ah_ the lips are drawn back. with _oo_, _o_, _ü_, and _ö_ they are extended far forward. the auxiliary sound _y_ connects them all with each other, so that the transitions are made quite imperceptibly. since it is pronounced with the tongue drawn high against the palate, it prevents the base of the tongue from falling down again. this should be practised very slowly, that the sensations may be clearly discerned, and that no vibration that gives the vowel its pitch and duration may escape attention. the muscular contraction described comprises the chief functions of the vocal organs, and is as necessary for singing as the breath is for the tone. year in and year out every singer and pupil must practise it in daily exercises as much as possible, on every tone of the vocal compass. in the lowest as well as in the highest range the sharpness of the _a_ is lost, as well as the clear definition of all single vowels. _a_ should be mingled with _oo_, _ah_, and _e_. in the highest range, the vowels are merged in each other, because then the principal thing is not the vowel, but the high sound. even the _thought_ of _[=a]_ and _[=e]_, the latter especially, raises the pitch of the tone. the explanation of this is that _[=a]_ and _[=e]_ possess sympathetic sounds above the palate that lead the breath to the resonance of the head cavities. for this reason tenors often, in high notes, resort to the device of changing words with dark vowels to words with the bright vowel _e_. they could attain the same end, without changing the whole word, by simply _thinking_ of an _e_. [illustration: pronounce in english [=a] [=e] üoo oah[=e]] without over-exertion, the singer can practise the exercises given above twenty times a day, in periods of ten to fifteen minutes each, and will soon appreciate the advantage of the muscular strengthening they give. they make the voice fresh, not weary, as doubtless many will suppose. what, then, can be expected of an untrained organ? nothing! without daily vocal gymnastics no power of endurance in the muscles can be gained. they must be so strong that a great operatic rôle can be repeated ten times in succession, in order that the singer may become able to endure the strain of singing in opera houses, in great auditoriums, and make himself heard above a great orchestra, without suffering for it. when i, for instance, was learning the part of _isolde_, i could without weariness sing the first act alone six times in succession, with expression, action, and a full voice. that was my practice with all my rôles. after i had rehearsed a rôle a thousand times in my own room, i would go into the empty theatre and rehearse single scenes, as well as the whole opera, for hours at a time. that gave me the certainty of being mistress of my resonances down to the last note; and very often i felt able to begin it all over again. so must it be, if one wishes to accomplish anything worth while. another end also is attained by the same exercise,--the connection, not only of the vowels, but of all letters, syllables, words, and phrases. by this exercise the form for the breath, tone, and word, in which all the organs are adjusted to each other with perfect elasticity, is gradually established. slowly but surely it assures greatest endurance in all the organs concerned in speaking and singing, the inseparable connection of the palatal resonance with the resonance of the head cavities. in this way is gained perfection in the art of singing, which is based, not on chance, but on knowledge; and this slow but sure way is the only way to gain it. by the above-described method all other alphabetical sounds can be connected, and exercises can be invented to use with it, which are best adapted to correct the mistakes of pupils, at first on one, then step by step on two and three connected tones, etc. at the same time it is necessary to learn to move the tongue freely, and with the utmost quickness, by jerking it back, after pronouncing consonants, as quick as a flash, into the position in which it conducts the breath to the resonating chambers for the vowels. with all these movements is connected the power of elastically contracting and relaxing the muscles. section xxvi the lips of special importance for the tone and the word are the movements of the lips, which are so widely different in the bright and in the dark vowels. these movements cannot be too much exaggerated in practising. the same strength and elasticity to which we have to train the muscles of the throat and tongue must be imparted to the lips, which must be as of iron. upon their coöperation much of the life of the tone depends, and it can be used in many shadings, as soon as one is able to exert their power consciously and under the control of the will. every vowel, every word, every tone, can be colored as by magic in all sorts of ways by the well-controlled play of the lips; can, as it were, be imbued with life, as the lips open or close more or less in different positions. the lips are the final cup-shaped resonators through which the tone has to pass. they can retard it or let it escape, can color it bright or dark, and exert a ceaseless and ever varying influence upon it long before it ceases and up to its very end. no attempt should be made to use the play of the lips until complete mastery of the absolutely even, perfect tone, and of the muscular powers, has been acquired. the effect must be produced as a result of power and practice; and should not be practised as an effect _per se_. section xxvii the vowel-sound _ah_ there is much discussion as to whether _ah_, _oo_, or some other vowel is the one best adapted for general practice. in former times practice was entirely on the vowel-sound _ah_. the old italians taught it; my mother was trained so, and never allowed her pupils to use any other vowel during the first months of their instruction. later, to be sure, every letter, every word, was practised and improved continually, till it was correct, and had impressed itself upon the memory, as well as the ear, of the pupil for all time. i explain the matter thus:-- the singer's mouth should always make an agreeable impression. faces that are forever grinning or showing fish mouths are disgusting and wrong. the pleasing expression of the mouth requires the muscular contractions that form the bright vowel _ah_. most people who are not accustomed to using their vocal resonance pronounce the _ah_ quite flat, as if it were the vowel-sound lying lowest. if it is pronounced with the position of the mouth belonging to the bright vowels, it has to seek its resonance, in speaking as well as in singing, in the same place as the dark vowels, on the high-arched palate. to permit this, it must be mingled with _oo_. the furrows in the tongue must also be formed, just as with _oo_ and _o_, only special attention must be given that the back of the tongue does not fall, but remains high, as in pronouncing _[=a]_. in this way _ah_ comes to lie between _oo-o'ah'y[=a]_, and forms at the same time the connection between the bright and the dark vowels, and the reverse. for this reason it was proper that _ah_ should be preferred as the practice vowel, as soon as it was placed properly between the two extremes, and had satisfied all demands. i prefer to teach it, because its use makes all mistakes most clearly recognizable. it is the most difficult vowel. if it is well pronounced, or sung, it produces the necessary muscular contractions with a pleasing expression of the mouth, and makes certain a fine tone color by its connection with _oo_ and _o_. if the _ah_ is equally well formed in all ranges of the voice, a chief difficulty is mastered. those who have been badly taught, or have fallen into bad ways, should practise the vocal exercise i have given above, with _ya-ye-yah_, etc., slowly, listening to themselves carefully. good results cannot fail; it is an infallible means of improvement. italians who sing well never speak or sing the vowel sound _ah_ otherwise than mixed, and only the neglect of this mixture could have brought about the decadence of the italian teaching of song. in germany no attention is paid to it. the _ah_, as sung generally by most italians of the present day, quite flat, sounds commonplace, almost like an affront. it can range itself, that is connect itself, with no other vowel, makes all vocal connection impossible, evolves very ugly registers; and, lying low in the throat, summons forth no palatal resonance. the power of contraction of the muscles of speech is insufficient, and this insufficiency misleads the singer to constrict the throat muscles, which are not trained to the endurance of it; thereby further progress is made impossible. in the course of time the tone becomes flat at the transitions. the fatal tremolo is almost always the result of this manner of singing. try to sing a scale upward on _ah_, placing the tongue and muscles of speech at the same time on _[=a]_, and you will be surprised at the agreeable effect. even the thought of it alone is often enough, because the tongue involuntarily takes the position of its own accord. i remember very well how mme. désirée artot-padilla, who had a low mezzo-soprano voice, used to toss off great coloratura pieces, beginning on the vowel-sound _ah_, and then going up and down on _a_, _ee_, _aüoah_. at the time i could not understand why she did it; now i know perfectly,--because it was easier for her. the breath is impelled against the cavities of the head, the head tones are set into action. behind the _a_ position there must be as much room provided as is needed for all the vowels, with such modifications as each one requires for itself. the matter of chief importance is the position of the tongue _in_ the throat, that it shall not be in the way of the larynx, which must be able to move up and down, even though very slightly, without hindrance. all vowels must be able to flow into each other; the singer must be able to pass from one to another without perceptible alteration, and back again. section xxviii italian and german how easy it is for the italians, who have by nature, through the characteristics of their native language, all these things which others must gain by long years of practice! a single syllable often unites three vowels; for instance, "tuoi" (tuoy[=e]), "miei" (myeay[=e]), "muoja," etc. the italians mingle all their vowels. they rub them into and color them with each other. this includes a great portion of the art of song, which in every language, with due regard to its peculiar characteristics, must be learned by practice. to give only a single example of the difficulty of the german words, with the everlasting consonant endings to the syllables, take the recitative at the entrance of norma:-- "wer lässt hier aufruhrstimme_n_, kriegsruf ertöne_n_, wollt ihr die götter zwinge_n_, eurem wahnwitz zu fröhne_n_? wer wagt vermesse_n_, gleich der propheti_n_ der zukunft nacht zu lichte_n_, wollt ihr der götter pla_n_ vorschnell vernichte_n_? nicht menschenkraft könne_n_ die wirre_n_ dieses landes schlichte_n_." twelve endings on _n_! "sediziosi voci, voci di guerra, avvi [transcriber's note: corrected "avoi" in original] chi alzar si attenta presso all'ara del dio! v'ha chi presume dettar responsi alla vegente norma, e di roma affrettar il fato arcano. ei non dipende, no, non dipende da potere umano!" from the italians we can learn the connection of the vowels, from the french the use of the nasal tone. the germans surpass the others in their power of expressiveness. but he who would have the right to call himself an artist must unite all these things; the _bel canto_, that is, beautiful--i might say good--singing, and all the means of expression which we cultivated people need to interpret master works of great minds, should afford the public ennobling pleasure. a tone full of life is to be produced only by the skilful mixture of the vowels, that is, the unceasing leaning of one upon the others, without, however, affecting any of its characteristics. this means, in reality, only the complete use of the resonance of the breath, since the mixture of the vowels can be obtained only through the elastic conjunction of the organs and the varying division of the stream of breath toward the palatal resonance, or that of the cavities of the head, or the equalization of the two. the larynx must rise and descend unimpeded by the tongue, soft palate and pillars of the fauces rise and sink, the soft palate always able more or less to press close to the hard. strong and elastic contractions imply very pliable and circumspect relaxation of the same. i think that the feeling i have of the extension of my throat comes from the very powerful yet very elastic contraction of my muscles, which, though feeling always in a state of relaxability, appear to me like flexible steel, of which i can demand everything,--because never too much,--and which i exercise daily. even in the entr'actes of grand operas i go through with such exercises; for they refresh instead of exhausting me. the unconstrained coöperation of all the organs, as well as their individual functions, must go on elastically without any pressure or cramped action. their interplay must be powerful yet supple, that the breath which produces the tone may be diffused as it flows from one to another of the manifold and complicated organs (such as the ventricles of morgagni), supporting itself on others, being caught in still others, and finding all in such a state of readiness as is required in each range for each tone. everything must be combined in the right way as a matter of habit. the voice is equalized by the proper ramification of the breath and the proper connection of the different resonances. the tone is colored by the proper mixture of vowels; _oo_, _o_, and _ah_ demanding more palatal resonance and a lower position of the larynx, _a_ and _e_ more resonance of the head cavities and a higher position of the larynx. with _oo_, _o_, _ü_, and _ah_ the palate is arched higher (the tongue forming a furrow) than with _[=a]_, _[=e]_, and _ü_, where the tongue lies high and flat. there are singers who place the larynx too low, and, arching the palate too high, sing too much toward _oo_. such voices sound very dark, perhaps even hollow; they lack the interposition of the _[=a]_,--that is, the larynx is placed too low. on the other hand, there are others who press it upward too high; their _a_ position is a permanent one. such voices are marked by a very bright, sharp quality of tone, often like a goat's bleating. both are alike wrong and disagreeable. the proper medium between them must be gained by sensitive training of the ear, and a taste formed by the teacher through examples drawn from his own singing and that of others. if we wish to give a noble expression to the tone and the word, we must mingle its vocal sound, if it is not so, with _o_ or _oo_. if we wish to give the word merely an agreeable expression, we mingle it with _ah_, _[=a]_, and _[=e]_. that is, we must use all the qualities of tonal resonance, and thus produce colors which shall benefit the tone and thereby the word and its expression. thus a single tone may be taken or sung in many different ways. in every varying connection, consequently, the singer must be able to change it according to the expression desired. but as soon as it is a question of a _musical phrase_, in which several tones or words, or tones alone, are connected, the law of progression must remain in force; expression must be sacrificed, partly at least, to the beauty of the musical passage. if he is skilful enough, the singer can impart a certain expression of feeling to even the most superficial phrases and coloratura passages. thus, in the coloratura passages of mozart's arias, i have always sought to gain expressiveness by _crescendi_, choice of significant points for breathing, and breaking off of phrases. i have been especially successful with this in the _entführung_, introducing a tone of lament into the first aria, a heroic dignity into the second, through the coloratura passages. without exaggerating petty details, the artist must exploit all the means of expression that he is justified in using. section xxix auxiliary vowels like the auxiliary verbs "will" and "have," _[=a]_, _[=e]_, and _oo_ are auxiliary vowels, of whose aid we are constantly compelled to avail ourselves. it will perhaps sound exaggerated when i present an example of this, but as a matter of fact pronunciation is consummated in this way; only, it must not become noticeable. the method seems singular, but its object is to prevent the leaving of any empty resonance space, and to obviate any interruptions that could affect the perfection of the tone. for example, when i wish to sing the word "fräulein," i must first, and before all else, think of the pitch of the tone, before i attack the _f_. with the _f_, the tone must be there already, _before_ i have pronounced it; to pass from the _f_ to the _r_ i must summon to my aid the auxiliary vowel _oo_, in order to prevent the formation of any unvocalized interstices in the sound. the _r_ must not now drop off, but must in turn be joined to the _oo_, while the tongue should not drop down behind, [illustration] but should complete the vibrations thus, [illustration] in a straight line. (see plate.) [illustration] it is very interesting to note how much a word can gain or lose in fulness and beauty of tone. without the use of auxiliary vowels no connection of the resonance in words can be effected; there is then no beautiful tone in singing, only a kind of hacking. since it must be quite imperceptible, the use of auxiliary vowels must be very artistically managed, and is best practised in the beginning very slowly on single tones and words, then proceeding with great care to two tones, two syllables, and so on. in this way the pupil learns to _hear_. but he must learn to hear very slowly and for a long time, until there is no failure of vibration in the tone and word, and it is all so impressed upon his memory that it can never be lost. the auxiliary vowels must always be present, but the listener should be able to hear, from the assistance of the _oo_, only the warmth and nobility of the tone, from the _a_ and _e_ only the carrying power and brilliancy of it. section xxx resonant consonants _k_, _l_, _m_, _n_, _p_, _s_, and _r_ at the end of a word or syllable must be made resonant by joining to the end of the word or syllable a rather audible _[)e]_ (_eh_); for instance, wandel^e, gretel^e, etc. a thing that no one teaches any longer, or knows or is able to do, a thing that only betz and i knew, and with me will probably disappear entirely, is the dividing and ending of syllables that must be effected under certain conditions. it may have originated with the italian school. i was taught it especially upon double consonants. when two come together, they must be divided; the first, as in him-mel, being sounded dull, and without resonance, the syllable and tone being kept as nasal as possible, the lips closed, and a pause being made between the two syllables; not till then is the second syllable pronounced, with a new formation of the second consonant. and this is done, not only in case of a doubling of one consonant, but whenever two consonants come together to close the syllable; for instance, win-ter, dring-en, kling-en, bind-en; in these the nasal sound plays a specially important part. the tediousness of singing without proper separation of the syllables is not appreciated till it has been learned how to divide the consonants. the nasal close of itself brings a new color into the singing, which must be taken into account; and moreover, the word is much more clearly intelligible, especially in large auditoriums, where an appreciable length of time is needed for it to reach the listener. by the nasal close, also, an uninterrupted connection is assured between the consonant and the tone, even if the latter has to cease, apparently, for an instant. i teach all my pupils thus. but since most of them consider it something unheard of to be forced to pronounce in this way, they very rarely bring it to the artistic perfection which alone can make it effective. except from betz, i have never heard it from any one. after me no one will teach it any more. i shall probably be the last one. a pity! section xxxi practical exercises the practical study of singing is best begun with single sustained tones, and with preparation on the sound of _ah_ alone, mingled with _o_ and _oo_. a position as if one were about to yawn helps the tongue to lie in the right place. in order not to weary young voices too much, it is best to begin in the middle range, going upward first, by semitones, and then, starting again with the same tone, going downward. all other exercises begin in the lower range and go upward. the pupil must first be able to make a single tone good, and judge it correctly, before he should be allowed to proceed to a second. later, single syllables or words can be used as exercises for this. the position of the mouth and tongue must be watched in the mirror. the vowel _ah_ must be mingled with _o_ and _oo_, and care must be taken that the breath is forced strongly against the chest, and felt attacking here and on the palate at the same time. begin _piano_, make a long _crescendo_, and gradually return and end on a well-controlled _piano_. my feeling at the attack is as shown in the plate. at the same instant that i force the breath against the chest, i place the tone _under_ its highest point on the palate, and let the overtones soar above the palate--the two united in one thought. only in the lowest range can the overtones, and in the highest range the undertones (resonance of the head cavities and of the palate), be dispensed with. with me the throat never comes into consideration; i feel absolutely nothing of it, at most only the breath gently streaming through it. a tone should never be forced; _never press_ the breath against the resonating chambers, but only against the chest; and never hold it back. the organs should not be cramped, but should be allowed to perform their functions elastically. the contraction of the muscles should never exceed their power to relax. a tone must always be sung, whether strong or soft, with an easy, conscious power. further, before all things, sing always with due regard to the pitch. in this way the control of the ear is exercised over the pitch, strength, and duration of the tone, and over the singer's strength and weakness, of which we are often forced to make a virtue. in short, one learns to recognize and to produce a perfect tone. [illustration: attack. red lines denote that with the inspiration of breath: i, the diaphragm is sensibly stretched backward; ii, enlarges the capacity of the chest by the drawing down of its floor; iii, and so forms the supply chamber for the breath; iv, indicates the pressure of the breath against the chest tension muscles; v, the attack.] in all exercises go as low and as high as the voice will allow without straining, and always make little pauses to rest between them, even if you are not tired, in order to be all the fresher for the next one. with a certain amount of skill and steady purpose the voice increases its compass, and takes the proper range, easiest to it by nature. the pupil can see then how greatly the compass of a voice can be extended. for amateurs it is not necessary; but it is for every one who practises the profession of a singer in public. for a second exercise, sing connectedly two half-tones, slowly, on one or two vowels, bridging them with the auxiliary vowels and the _y_ as the support of the tongue, etc. every tone must seek its best results from all the organs concerned in its production; must possess power, brilliancy, and mellowness in order to be able to produce, before leaving each tone, the propagation form for the next tone, ascending as well as descending, and make it certain. no exercise should be dropped till every vibration of every tone has clearly approved itself to the ear, not only of the teacher, but also of the pupil, as _perfect_. it takes a long time to reach the full consciousness of a tone. after it has passed the lips it must be diffused outside, before it can come to the consciousness of the listener as well as to that of the singer himself. so practise _singing_ slowly and _hearing_ slowly. section xxxii the great scale this is the most necessary exercise for all kinds of voices. it was taught to my mother; she taught it to all her pupils and to us. but _i_ am probably the only one of them all who practises it faithfully! i do not trust the others. as a pupil one must practise it twice a day, as a professional singer at least once. [music illustration] the breath must be well prepared, the expiration still better, for the duration of these five and four long tones is greater than would be supposed. the first tone must be attacked not too _piano_, and sung only so strongly as is necessary to reach the next one easily without further crescendo, while the propagation form for the next tone is produced, and the breath wisely husbanded till the end of the phrase. the first of each of the phrases ends nasally in the middle range, the second toward the forehead and the cavities of the head. the lowest tone must already be prepared to favor the resonance of the head cavities, by thinking of _[=a]_, consequently placing the larynx high and maintaining the resonating organs in a _very_ supple and elastic state. in the middle range, _ah_ is mingled particularly with _oo_, that the nose may be reached; further, the auxiliary vowel _e_ is added to it, which guides the tone to the head cavities. in descending the attack must be more concentrated, as the tone is slowly directed toward the nose on _oo_ or _o_, to the end of the figure. when _oo_, _a_, and _e_ are auxiliary vowels, they need not be plainly pronounced. (they form an exception in the diphthongs, "trauuum," "leiiid," "lauuune," "feuyer," etc.) as auxiliary vowels they are only means to an end, a bridge, a connection from one thing to another. they can be taken anywhere with any other sound; and thence it may be seen how elastic the organs can be when they are skilfully managed. the chief object of the great scale is to secure the pliant, sustained use of the breath, precision in the preparation of the propagation form, the proper mixture of the vowels which aid in placing the organs in the right position for the tone, to be changed for every different tone, although imperceptibly; further, the intelligent use of the resonance of the palate and head cavities, especially the latter, whose tones, soaring above everything else, form the connection with the nasal quality for the whole scale. the scale must be practised without too strenuous exertion, but not without power, gradually extending over the entire compass of the voice; and that is, if it is to be perfect, over a compass of two octaves. these two octaves will have been covered, when, advancing the starting-point by semitones, the scale has been carried up through an entire octave. so much every voice can finally accomplish, even if the high notes must be very feeble. the great scale, properly elaborated in practice, accomplishes wonders: it equalizes the voice, makes it flexible and noble, gives strength to all weak places, operates to repair all faults and breaks that exist, and controls the voice to the very heart. nothing escapes it. by it ability as well as inability is brought to light--something that is extremely unpleasant to those without ability. in my opinion it is the ideal exercise, but the most difficult one i know. by devoting forty minutes to it every day, a consciousness of certainty and strength will be gained that ten hours a day of any other exercise cannot give. this should be the chief test in all conservatories. if i were at the head of one, the pupils should be allowed for the first three years to sing at the examinations only _difficult_ exercises, like this great scale, before they should be allowed to think of singing a song or an aria, which i regard only as cloaks for incompetency. for teaching me this scale--this guardian angel of the voice--i cannot be thankful enough to my mother. in earlier years i used to like to express myself freely about it. there was a time when i imagined that it strained me. my mother often ended her warnings at my neglect of it with the words, "you will be very sorry for it!" and i was very sorry for it. at one time, when i was about to be subjected to great exertions, and did not practise it every day, but thought it was enough to sing coloratura fireworks, i soon became aware that my transition tones would no longer endure the strain, began easily to waver, or threatened even to become too flat. the realization of it was terrible! it cost me many, many years of the hardest and most careful study; and it finally brought me to realize the necessity of exercising the vocal organs continually, and in the proper way, if i wished always to be able to rely on them. practice, and especially the practice of the great, slow scale, is the only cure for all injuries, and at the same time the most excellent means of fortification against all over-exertion. i sing it every day, often twice, even if i have to sing one of the greatest rôles in the evening. i can rely absolutely on its assistance. if i had imparted nothing else to my pupils but the ability to sing this one great exercise well, they would possess a capital fund of knowledge which must infallibly bring them a rich return on their voices. i often take fifty minutes to go through it only once, for i let no tone pass that is lacking in any degree in pitch, power, and duration, or in a single vibration of the propagation form. section xxxiii velocity singers, male and female, who are lacking velocity and the power of trilling, seem to me like horses without tails. both of these things belong to the art of song, and are inseparable from it. it is a matter of indifference whether the singer has to use them or not; he must be able to. the teacher who neither teaches nor can teach them to his pupils is a _bad teacher_; the pupil who, notwithstanding the urgent warnings of his teacher, neglects the exercises that can help him to acquire them, and fails to perfect himself in them, is a _bungler_. there is no excuse for it but lack of talent, or laziness; and neither has any place in the higher walks of art. to give the voice velocity, practise first slowly, then faster and faster, figures of five, six, seven, and eight notes, etc., upward and downward. if one has well mastered the great, slow scale, with the nasal connection, skill in singing rapid passages will be developed quite of itself, because they both rest on the same foundation, and without the preliminary practice can never be understood. put the palate into the nasal position, the larynx upon _oe_; attack the lowest tone of the figure with the thought of the highest; force the breath, as it streams very vigorously forth from the larynx, toward the nose, but allow the head current entire freedom, without entirely doing away with the nasal quality; and then run up the scale with great firmness. in descending, keep the form of the highest tone, even if there should be eight to twelve tones in the passage, so that the scale slides down, not a pair of stairs, but a smooth track, the highest tone affording, as it were, a guarantee that on the way there shall be no impediment or sudden drop. the resonance form, kept firm and tense, must adapt itself with the utmost freedom to the thought of every tone, and with it, to the breath. the pressure of the breath against the chest must not be diminished, but must be unceasing. to me it is always as if the pitch of the highest tone were already contained in the lowest, so strongly concentrated upon the whole figure are my thoughts at the attack of a single tone. by means of _ah-e-[=a]_, larynx, tongue, and palatal position on the lowest tone are in such a position that the vibrations of breath for the highest tones are already finding admission into the head cavities, and as far as possible are in sympathetic vibration there. the higher the vocal figures go the more breath they need, the less can the breath and the organs be pressed. the higher they are, the more breath must stream forth from the epiglottis; therefore the _[=a]_ and the thought of _e_, which keep the passages to the head open. but because there is a limit to the scope of the movement of larynx and tongue, and they cannot rise higher and higher with a figure that often reaches to an immense height, the singer must resort to the aid of the auxiliary vowel _oo_, in order to lower the larynx and so make room for the breath: [music illustration] a run or any other figure must never sound thus: [music illustration] but must be nasally modified above, and tied; and because the breath must flow out unceasingly in a powerful stream from the vocal cords, an _h_ can only be put in beneath, which makes us sure of this powerful streaming out of the breath, and helps only the branch stream of breath into the cavities of the head. often singers hold the breath, concentrated on the nasal form, firmly on the lowest tone of a figure, and, without interrupting this nasal form, or the head tones, that is, the breath vibrating in the head cavities, finish the figure alone. when this happens the muscular contractions of the throat, tongue, and palate are very strong. [music illustration: l'oiselet. chopin-viardat] the turn, too, based on the consistent connection of the tonal figure with the nasal quality,--which is obtained by pronouncing the _oo_ toward the nose,--and firmly held there, permits no interruption for an instant to the vowel sound. how often have i heard the _ha-ha-ha-haa_, etc.,--a wretched tumbling down of different tones, instead of a smooth decoration of the cantilena. singers generally disregard it, because no one can do it any more, and yet even to-day it is of the greatest importance. (see _tristan und isolde_.) the situation is quite the same in regard to the appoggiatura. in this the resonance is made nasal and the flexibility of the larynx,--which, without changing the resonance, moves quickly up and down--accomplishes the task alone. here, too, it can almost be imagined that the _thought_ alone is enough, for the connection of the two tones cannot be too close. but this must be practised, and done _consciously_. [music illustration: adelaide, by beethoven a-bend-lüft-chen im zar-ten lau-be flü-stern] [transcriber's note: corrected "l'au-be" in original to "lau-be"] section xxxiv trill there still remains the trill, which is best practised in the beginning as follows:-- [music illustration] the breath is led very far back against the head cavities by the _[=a]_, the larynx kept as stiff as possible and placed high. both tones are connected as closely, as heavily as possible, upward nasally, downward _on_ the larynx, for which the _y_, again, is admirably suited. they must be attacked as high as possible, and very strongly. the trill exercise must be practised almost as a scream. the upper note must always be strongly _accented_. the exercise is practised with an even strength, without decrescendo to the end; the breath streams out more and more strongly, uninterruptedly to the finish. trill exercises must be performed with great energy, on the whole compass of the voice. they form an exception to the rule in so far that in them more is given to the throat to do--always, however, under the control of the chest--than in other exercises. that relates, however, to the muscles. the breath vibrates _above_ the larynx, but does not stick in it, consequently this is not dangerous. the exercise is practised first on two half, then on two whole, tones of the same key (as given above), advancing by semitones, twice a day on the entire compass of the voice. it is exhausting because it requires great energy; but for the same reason it gives strength. practise it first as slowly and vigorously as the strength of the throat allows, then faster and faster, till one day the trill unexpectedly appears. with some energy and industry good results should be reached in from six to eight weeks, and the larynx should take on the habit of performing its function by itself. this function gradually becomes a habit, so that it seems as if only _one_ tone were attacked and held, and as if the second tone simply vibrated with it. as a matter of fact, the larynx will have been so practised in the minute upward and downward motion, that the singer is aware only of the vibrations of the breath that lie _above_ it, while he remains mindful all the time only of the pitch of the upper note. one has the feeling then as of singing or holding only the _lower_ tone (which must be placed very high), while the upper one vibrates with it simply through the habitude of the accentuation. the union of the two then comes to the singer's consciousness as if he were singing the lower note somewhat too high, halfway toward the upper one. this is only an aural delusion, produced by the high vibrations. but the trill, when fully mastered, should always be begun, as in the exercise, on the _upper_ note. every voice must master the trill, after a period, longer or shorter, of proper practice. stiff, strong voices master it sooner than small, weak ones. i expended certainly ten years upon improving it, because as a young girl i had so very little strength, although my voice was very flexible in executing all sorts of rapid passages. to be able to use it anywhere, of course, requires a long time and much practice. for this reason it is a good plan to practise it on syllables with different vowels, such as can all be supported on _[=a]_, and on words, as soon as the understanding needed for this is in some degree assured. if the larynx has acquired the habit properly, the trill can be carried on into a _piano_ and _pianissimo_ and prolonged almost without end with _crescendi_ and _decrescendi_, as the old italians used to do, and as _all germans_ do who have learned anything. section xxxv how to hold one's self when practising in practising the singer should always stand, if possible, before a large mirror, in order to be able to watch himself closely. he should stand upright, quietly but not stiffly, and avoid everything that looks like restlessness. the hands should hang quietly, or rest lightly on something, without taking part in the interpretation of the expression. the first thing needed is to bring the body under control, that is, to remain quiet, so that later, in singing, the singer can do everything intentionally. the pupil must always stand in such a way that the teacher can watch his face, as well as his whole body. continual movements of the fingers, hands, or feet are not permissible. the body must serve the singer's purposes freely and must acquire no bad habits. the singer's self-possession is reflected in a feeling of satisfaction on the part of the listener. the quieter the singer or artist, the more significant is every expression he gives; the fewer motions he makes, the more importance they have. so he can scarcely be quiet enough. only there must be a certain accent of expression in this quietude, which cannot be represented by indifference. the quietude of the artist is a reassurance for the public, for it can come only from the certainty of power and the full command of his task through study and preparation and perfect knowledge of the work to be presented. an artist whose art is based on power cannot appear other than self-possessed and certain of himself. an evident uneasiness is always inartistic, and hence does not belong where art is to be embodied. all dependence upon tricks of habit creates nervousness and lack of flexibility. therefore the singer must accustom himself to quietude in practising, and make his will master of his whole body, that later he may have free command of all his movements and means of expression. the constant playing of single tones or chords on the piano by the teacher during the lesson is wrong, and every pupil should request its discontinuance. the teacher can hear the pupil, but the latter cannot hear himself, when this is done; and yet it is of the utmost importance that he should learn to hear himself. i am almost driven distracted when teachers bring me their pupils, and drum on the piano as if possessed while they sing. pupils have the same effect on me when they sit and play a dozen chords to one long note. do they sit in the evening when they sing in a concert? do they hear themselves, when they do this? unfortunately, i cannot hear them. poor pupils! it is enough for a musical person to strike a single note on the piano when he practises alone, or perhaps a common chord, after which the body and hands should return to their quiet natural position. only in a standing posture can a free deep breath be drawn, and mind and body be properly prepared for the exercise or the song to follow. it is also well for pupils to form sentences with the proper number of syllables upon which to sing their exercises, so that even such exercises shall gradually gain a certain amount of expressiveness. thus the exercises will form pictures which must be connected with the play of the features, as well as with an inner feeling, and thus will not become desultory and soulless and given over to indifference. of course not till the mere tone itself is brought under complete control, and uncertainty is no longer possible, can the horizon of the pupil be thus widened without danger. only when a scene requires that a vocal passage be sung kneeling or sitting must the singer practise it in his room long before the performance and at all rehearsals, in accordance with dramatic requirements of the situation. _otherwise the singer should always_ stand. we must also look out for unaccustomed garments that may be required on the stage, and rehearse in them; for instance, hat, helmet, hood, cloak, etc. without becoming accustomed to them by practice, the singer may easily make himself ridiculous on the stage. hence comes the absurdity of a lohengrin who cannot sing with a helmet, another who cannot with a shield, a third who cannot with gauntlets; a wanderer who cannot with the big hat, another who cannot with the spear, a jose who cannot with the helmet, etc. all these things must be practised before a mirror until the requirements of a part or its costume become a habit. to attain this, the singer must be completely master of his body and all his movements. it must be precisely the same with the voice. the singer must be quite independent of bad habits in order consciously to exact from it what the proper interpretation of the work to be performed requires. he should practise only so long as can be done without weariness. after every exercise he should take a rest, to be fresh for the next one. after the great scale he should rest _at least_ ten minutes; and these resting times must be observed as long as one sings. long-continued exertion should not be exacted of the voice at first; even if the effects of it are not immediately felt, a damage is done in some way. in this matter pupils themselves are chiefly at fault, because they cannot get enough, as long as they take pleasure in it. for this reason it is insane folly to try to sing important rôles on the stage after one or two years of study; it may perhaps be endured for one or two years without evil results, but it can never be carried on indefinitely. agents and managers commit a crime when they demand enormous exertions of such young singers. the rehearsals, which are held in abominably bad air, the late hours, the irregular life that is occasioned by rehearsals, the strain of standing around for five or six hours in a theatre,--all this is not for untrained young persons. no woman of less than twenty-four years should sing soubrette parts, none of less than twenty-eight years second parts, and none of less than thirty-five years dramatic parts; that is early enough. by that time proper preparation can be made, and in voice and person something can be offered worth while. and our fraternity must realize this sooner or later. in that way, too, they will learn more and be able to do more, and fewer sins will be committed against the art of song by the incompetent. section xxxvi concerning expression when we wish to study a rôle or a song, we have first to master the intellectual content of the work. not till we have made ourselves a clear picture of the whole should we proceed to elaborate the details, through which, however, the impression of the whole should never be allowed to suffer. the complete picture should always shine out through all. if it is too much broken into details, it becomes a thing of shreds and patches. so petty accessories must be avoided, that the larger outline of the whole picture shall not suffer. the complete picture must ever claim the chief interest; details should not distract attention from it. in art, subordination of the parts to the whole is an art of itself. everything must be fitted to the larger lineaments that should characterize a masterpiece. a word is an idea; and not only the idea, but how that idea in color and connection is related to the whole, must be expressed. therein is the fearsome magic that wagner has exercised upon me and upon all others, that draws us to him and lets none escape its spell. that is why the elaboration of wagner's creations seems so much worth while to the artist. every elaboration of a work of art demands the sacrifice of some part of the artist's ego, for he must mingle the feelings set before him for portrayal with his own in his interpretation, and thus, so to speak, lay bare his very self. but since we must impersonate human beings, we may not spare ourselves, but throw ourselves into our task with the devotion of all our powers. section xxxvii before the public in the wide reaches of the theatre it is needful to give an exaggeration to the expression, which in the concert hall, where the forms of society rule, must be entirely abandoned. and yet the picture must be presented by the artist to the public from the very first word, the very first note; the mood must be felt in advance. this depends partly upon the bearing of the singer and the expression of countenance he has during the prelude, whereby interest in what is coming is aroused and is directed upon the music as well as upon the poem. the picture is complete in itself; i have only to vivify its colors during the performance. upon the management of the body, upon the electric current which should flow between the artist and the public,--a current that often streams forth at his very appearance, but often is not to be established at all,--depend the glow and effectiveness of the color which we impress upon our picture. no artist should be beguiled by this into giving forth more than artistic propriety permits, either to enhance the enthusiasm or to intensify the mood; for the electric connection cannot be forced. often a tranquillizing feeling is very soon manifest on both sides, the effect of which is quite as great, even though less stimulating. often, too, a calm, still understanding between singer and public exercises a fascination upon both, that can only be attained through a complete devotion to the task in hand, and renunciation of any attempt to gain noisy applause. to me it is a matter of indifference whether the public goes frantic or listens quietly and reflectively, for i give out only what i have undertaken to. if i have put my individuality, my powers, my love for the work, into a rôle or a song that is applauded by the public, i decline all thanks for it to myself personally, and consider the applause as belonging to the master whose work i am interpreting. if i have succeeded in making him intelligible to the public, the reward therefor is contained in that fact itself, and i ask for nothing more. of what is implied in the intelligent interpretation of a work of art, as to talent and study, the public has no conception. only they can understand it whose lives have been devoted to the same ideals. the lasting understanding of such, or even of a part of the public, is worth more than all the storm of applause that is given to so many. all the applause in the world cannot repay me for the sacrifices i have made for art, and no applause in the world is able to beguile me from the dissatisfaction i feel over the failure of a single tone or attempted expression. what seems to me bad, because i demand the greatest things of myself, is, to be sure, good enough for many others. i am, however, not of their opinion. in any matter relating to art, only the best is good enough for any public. if the public is uncultivated, one must make it know the best, must educate it, must teach it to understand the best. a naïve understanding is often most strongly exhibited by the uncultivated--that is, the unspoiled--public, and often is worth more than any cultivation. the cultivated public should be willing to accept only the best; it should ruthlessly condemn the bad and the mediocre. it is the artist's task, through offering his best and most carefully prepared achievements, to educate the public, to ennoble it; and he should carry out his mission without being influenced by bad standards of taste. the public, on the other hand, should consider art, not as a matter of fashion, or as an opportunity to display its clothes, but should feel it as a true and profound enjoyment, and do everything to second the artist's efforts. arriving late at the opera or in the concert hall is a kind of bad manners which cannot be sufficiently censured. in the same way, going out before the end, at unfitting times, and the use of fans in such a way as to disturb artists and those sitting near, should be avoided by cultivated people. artists who are concentrating their whole nature upon realizing an ideal, which they wish to interpret with the most perfect expression, should not be disturbed or disquieted. on the other hand, operatic performances, and concerts especially, should be limited in duration and in the number of pieces presented. it is better to offer the public a single symphony or a short list of songs or pianoforte pieces, which it can listen to with attention and really absorb, than to provide two or three hours of difficult music that neither the public can listen to with sufficient attention nor the artist perform with sufficient concentration. section xxxviii interpretation let us return to the subject of expression, and examine a song; for example, _"der nussbaum" by schumann._ the prevailing mood through it is one of quiet gayety, consequently one demanding a pleasant expression of countenance. the song picture must rustle by us like a fairy story. the picture shows us the fragrant nut tree putting forth its leaves in the spring; under it a maiden lost in reverie, who finally falls asleep, happy in her thoughts. all is youth and fragrance, a charming little picture, whose colors must harmonize. none of them should stand out from the frame. only one single word rises above the rustling of the tree, and this must be brought plainly to the hearing of the listening maiden--and hence, also, of the public--the second "_next_" year. the whole song finds its point in that one word. the nut tree before the house puts forth its green leaves and sheds its fragrance; its blossoms are lovingly embraced by the soft breezes, whispering to each other two by two, and offer their heads to be kissed, nodding and bowing; the song must be sung with an equal fragrance, each musical phrase in one breath: that is, with six inaudible breathings, without ritenuto. they whisper of a maiden who night and day is thinking, she knows not of what herself. between "selber" and "nicht was" a slight separation of the words can be made, by breaking off the _r_ in "selber" nasally; and holding the tone nasally, without taking a fresh breath, attacking the "nicht" anew. in this way an expression of uncertainty is lent to the words "nicht was." but now all becomes quite mysterious. "they whisper, they whisper"--one must bend one's thoughts to hear it; who can understand so soft a song? but now i hear plainly, even though it be very soft--the whisper about the bridegroom and the next year, and again quite significantly, the _next_ year. that is so full of promise, one can scarcely tear one's self away from the thoughts, from the word in which love is imparted, and yet that, too, comes to an end! now i am the maiden herself who listens, smiling in happiness, to the rustling of the tree, leaning her head against its trunk, full of longing fancies as she sinks to sleep and to dream, from which she would wish never to awaken. _"feldeinsamkeit" by brahms._ this song interprets the exalted mood of the soul of the man who, lying at rest in the long grass, watches the clouds float by, and whose being is made one with nature as he does so. a whole world of insects buzzes about him, the air shimmers in the bright sunlight, flowers shed their perfume; everything about him lives a murmuring life in tones that seem to enhance the peace of nature, far from the haunts of men. as tranquil as are the clouds that pass by, as peaceful as is the mood of nature, as luxurious as are the flowers that spread their fragrance, so tranquil and calm must be the breathing of the singer, which draws the long phrases of the song over the chords of the accompaniment, and brings before us in words and tones the picture of the warm peace of summer in nature, and the radiant being of a man dissolved within it. i mark the breathing places with _v_. "ich liege still im nohen grünen gras _v_ und sende lange meinen blick _v_ nach oben _v_ [and again comfortably, calmly] nach oben. "von grillen rings umschwärmt _v_ ohn' unterlass _v_ von himmelsbläue wundersam umwoben _v_ von himmelsbläue _v_ _wundersam umwoben_." each tone, each letter, is connected closely with the preceding and following; the expression of the eyes and of the soul should be appropriate to that of the glorified peace of nature and of the soul's happiness. the last phrase should soar tenderly, saturated with a warm and soulful coloring. "die schönen weissen wolken zieh'n dahin _v_ durch's _tiefe_ blau _v_, [i gaze at it for a moment] wie schöne, stille träume _v_ [losing one's self] wie schöne stille träume. _v_ [a feeling of dissolution takes away every thought of living and being.] mir ist _v_ als ob _v_ ich längst _v_ gestorben bin! [the whole being is dissolved in the ether; the end comes with outstretched wings soaring above the earth.] und ziehe selig mit _v_ durch ew'ge räume _v_ und ziehe selig mit _v_ durch ew'ge räume. [dissolution of the soul in the universe must sound forth from the singer's tone.] _"the erlking," by schubert._ for him who is familiar with our native legends and tales, the willows and alders in the fields and by the brooks are peopled with hidden beings, fairies, and witches. they stretch out ghostly arms, as their veils wave over their loose hair, they bow, cower, raise themselves, become as big as giants or as little as dwarfs. they seem to lie in wait for the weak, to fill them with fright. the father, however, who rides with his child through the night and the wind, is a man, no ghost; and his faithful steed, that carries both, no phantom. the picture is presented to us vividly; we can follow the group for long. the feeling is of haste, but not of ghostliness. the prelude should consequently sound simply fast, but not overdrawn. the first phrases of the singer should be connected with it as a plain narrative. suddenly the child hugs the father more closely and buries his face in terror in his bosom. lovingly the father bends over him; _quietly_ he asks him the cause of his fear. frightened, the child looks to one side, and asks, in disconnected phrases, whether his father does not see the erlking, the erlking with his crown and train. they had just ridden by a clump of willows. still quietly, the father explains _smilingly_ to his son that what he saw was a bank of fog hanging over the meadow. but in the boy's brain the erlking has already raised his enticing whisper.[ ] the still, small voice, as though coming from another world, promises the child golden raiment, flowers, and games. [footnote : the voice of the erlking is a continuous, soft, uninterrupted stream of tone, upon which the whispered words are hung. the erlking excites the thoughts of the fever-sick boy. the three enticements must be sung very rapidly, without any interruption of the breath. the first i sing as far as possible in one breath (if i am not hampered by the accompanist), or at most in two; the second in two, the third in three; and here for the first time the words "reizt" and "branch ich gewalt" emerge from the whispered pianissimo.] fearfully he asks his father if he does not hear the erlking's whispered promises. "it is only the dry leaves rustling in the wind." the father quiets him, and his voice is full of firm and loving reassurance, but he feels that his child is sick. for but a few seconds all is still; then the voice comes back again. in a low whisper sounds and words are distinguished. erlking invites the boy to play with his daughters, who shall dance with him and rock him and sing to him. in the heat of fever the boy implores his father to look for the erlking's daughters. the father sees only an old gray willow; but his voice is no longer calm. anxiety for his sick child makes his manly tones break; the comforting words contain already a longing for the journey's end--quickly, quickly, must he reach it. erlking has now completely filled the feverish fancy of the child. with ruthless power he possesses himself of the boy--all opposition is vain--the silver cord is loosened. once more he cries out in fear to his father, then his eyes are closed. the man, beside himself, strains every nerve--his own and his horse's; his haste is like a wild flight. the journey's end is reached; breathless they stop--but the race was in vain. a cold shudder runs through even the narrator; his whole being is strained and tense, he must force his mouth to utter the last words. section xxxix in conclusion the class of voice is dependent upon the inborn characteristics of the vocal organs. but the development of the voice and all else that appertains to the art of song, can, providing talent is not lacking, be learned through industry and energy. if every singer cannot become a _famous_ artist, every singer is at least in duty bound to have learned something worth while, and to do his best according to his powers, as soon as he has to appear before any public. as an artist, he should not afford this public merely a cheap amusement, but should acquaint it with the most perfect embodiments of that art whose sole task properly is to ennoble the taste of mankind, and to bestow happiness; to raise it above the miseries of this workaday world, withdraw it from them, to idealize even the hateful things in human nature which it may have to represent, without departing from truth. but what is the attitude of artists toward these tasks? cleveland, january , . note _a good remedy for catarrh and hoarseness_ pour boiling hot water into a saucer, and let a large sponge suck it all up. then squeeze it firmly out again. hold the sponge to the nose and mouth, and breathe alternately through the nose and mouth, in and out. i sing my exercises, the great scale, passages, etc., and all the vowels into it, and so force the hot steam to act upon the lungs, bronchial tubes, and especially on the mucous membranes, while i am breathing in and out through the sponge. after this has been kept up for ten or fifteen minutes, wash the face in cold water. this can be repeated four to six times a day. the sponge should not be full of water, but must be quite squeezed out. this has helped me greatly, and i can recommend it highly. it can do no injury because it is natural. but after breathing in the hot steam, do not go out immediately into the cold air. the boy's voice. [illustration: _chorister boys_. _photographed by mr george hadley, lincoln_.] the boy's voice a book of practical information on the training of boys' voices for church choirs, &c. by j. spencer curwen _fellow of the royal academy of music; president of the tonic sol-fa college._ [illustration: decoration] london: j curwen & sons, & warwick lane, e.c. new york: charles scribner and sons. _price two shillings and sixpence._ = = london: j. curwen and sons, music-printers, plaistow, e. preface. the value of this little book, as the reader will soon discover, depends less upon my own work than upon the large number of choirmasters whose experience i have been fortunate enough, directly or indirectly, to lay under contribution. the conditions of the choir-trainer's work vary, in an endless way, according to his surroundings and opportunities. and it is just when work becomes difficult that contrivances and hints are most fruitfully evolved. hence i have given in great detail the experiences of many correspondents, and some of the most useful suggestions for ordinary church choir work will be found to proceed from writers holding no great appointment, but seeking quietly and unostentatiously to produce good results from poor material. in view of a second edition, i shall be pleased to receive letters from readers who have further experiences to offer. j. s. c. _june_, . contents. chapter i. pages the healthfulness of singing - chapter ii. management of the breath - chapter iii. the art of managing choir boys - chapter iv. voice training - chapter v. information on voice-training, collected by the salisbury diocesan choral association - chapter vi. pronunciation in singing - chapter vii. singing by ear and by note - chapter viii. flattening, and singing out of tune - chapter ix. on the training of boys' voices - chapter x. the special difficulties of agricultural districts - chapter xi. notes on the practice of various choirmasters in cathedrals, &c. - chapter xii. notes on the practice of various choirmasters in parish churches - chapter xiii. alto boys - chapter xiv. schools for choristers - chapter xv. concert songs for boys - [illustration: the boy's voice.] chapter i. the healthfulness of singing. the boy's voice, though an immature organ of delicate structure, is capable of much work, providing only that its mechanism be rightly used and not forced. some people are unnecessarily nervous about boys; as a rule, under competent guidance, they will get nothing but good from vocal work. a cathedral organist wrote to me the other day:-- "our best solo boy, who has a splendid voice and who sings beautifully, has been unwell, and the dean and chapter doctor (who has an idea that every choir-boy should be as robust as a plough-boy) has just stated that the boy is too feeble to remain in the choir. notwithstanding my remonstrances, the dean and chapter decided yesterday to uphold the doctor. i tried his voice last week, and he sang with full, rich tone up to the c above the stave, and that after he had been skating from a.m. to p.m. i should have thought that a boy who could skate all day could not be in such a 'feeble' state as represented by the medical man. three months ago a boy with a beautiful voice was sent away for the same reason. so you see what uphill work it is for me." it is to be hoped that fastidiousness of this sort is not common. the _abuse_ of the voice may lead, of course, to serious results. in the _new york medical record_ of march , , p. , there is a case recorded of the bursting of a blood vessel through too energetic singing, but this is altogether abnormal, and beyond the scope of our enquiry. the voice, properly used, will last as long as any other organ, and it benefits by exercise. mr. d. w. rootham of bristol, who now at middle age has a strong constitution and a fine baritone voice, tells me that as a boy at cambridge he sang for seven years at five services every sunday. the thing seems incredible, and it is an extreme case, though it shows what work the voice, properly managed, will do. singing, it should be remembered, promotes health. it does so indirectly by causing cheerfulness, a genial flow of spirits, and the soothing of the nerves. it does so directly by increasing the action of the lungs. so far as these organs are concerned, singing is a more energetic form of speech. as we sing we breathe deeply, bring more air into contact with the lungs, and thus vitalise and purify the blood, giving stimulus to the faculties of digestion and nutrition. a physiologist, in fact, can trace the effects of singing from the lungs into the blood, from the blood into the processes of nutrition, back again into the blood, into the nerves, and finally into the brain, which of all organs is most dependent upon healthful and well-oxygenated blood. dr. martin (organist of st. paul's cathedral) has had many years' experience in training choir-boys, and he tells me that he has never known a boy to injure his voice, or lose it through singing. it is a question of method; if the voice be used properly it will stand any amount of work. he has seen boys disposed to consumption improve in health after joining the choir. the medical man who declared that if there were more singing there would be less coughing, expressed in a graphic way the healthful influence of vocal practice. parents and guardians need never hesitate to allow their sons and charges to become choir-boys under proper choirmasters. they may be sure that nothing but good can come of the exercise. two cautions only are needed. the first is, not to sing during a cold. when a slight inflammation has attacked the larynx--that is, when a cold has been taken--the vocal cords are thickened, and the act of vocalisation causes them to rub together, which increases the inflammation. if the cold is a bad one--that is, if the inflammation is great--the singer will be compelled to rest, because the congestive swelling of the vocal cords will be so great that they will be unable to vibrate sufficiently to produce tone. but whether slight or great, the cold demands rest. otherwise permanent injury may be done to the voice. the second caution relates to the preservation, not of the boy's voice, but of the man's. there is no doubt that it is undesirable for a boy to continue to sing after his voice has shown signs of "breaking." what are the first signs of this change? choirmasters notice that the middle register becomes weak, without any diminution in the power and quality of the upper notes, but that at the same time the thick register grows stronger, and the boy can strike middle c with firmness. "the striking of middle c," says mr. g. bernard gilbert, "is usually sufficient to decide the point." the tradition of teachers is in favour of rest at this time, and a well-founded public impression counts for a good deal. the fact is that during the time of change not only do the vocal cords lengthen, but they are congested. an inflammatory action, like that which takes place during a cold, is set up. hence rest is desirable. nature herself also counsels rest because she reduces the musical value of the voice at this time to a low ebb. it becomes husky and of uncertain intonation. no doubt cases can be quoted of boys who have sung on uninterruptedly and developed into good tenors or basses, but there are cases equally strong in which the man's voice has completely failed after such a course. sir morell mackenzie is the only medical writer who has advocated singing during change of voice, but not even his authority can upset the weight of evidence on the other side. nevertheless, on the principle of "hear both sides" i quote the following from a letter by mr. e. h. saxton, choirmaster of st. james's church, at buxton:-- "upon the question of resting completely from singing during the period of change of voice, i hold that one must be guided by the circumstances of each individual case. i carefully watch each boy when i am expecting the change to commence, and it usually shows itself by the upper thin register giving way. if i cannot immediately spare the boy from the treble part (and good leading boys are not plentiful), i caution him to leave high notes alone, never to force them, and as soon as possible i relegate him to the alto part, where he often remains useful to me for a year or eighteen months. all the time he is singing the alto part i keep watch over him, and forbid his singing as soon as there are indications that the effort is in the slightest degree painful. generally i find this prohibition to be only necessary for notes above [illustration: middle f] should a vacancy occur in the senior choir (if the boy shows signs of his voice developing to either tenor or bass) i get him passed from the junior to the senior choir, warning him, however, to be very careful of his high notes, and never to force them. my general experience leads me to the conclusion that it is a most arbitrary and unnecessary rule to lay down that every boy should rest at this time. in some cases it is necessary, no doubt, but my opinion is, after twenty years' practical experience, that in a large number of cases it is cruel, and about as much use with regard to the after-development of the voice as it would be to prohibit speaking. speaking practically--not scientifically--i hold that the vocal organ is beneficially exercised when singing is allowed in moderation, and within the restricted limits which every choirmaster ought to know how to apply. i have experienced boys who have never rested developing good voices, as well as those who have rested. but i have no experience of boys who have never rested developing bad voices, though i have of those who did rest. i have three boys in one family in my mind now, one of whom had a good alto, the other two good soprano voices. the alto and one soprano never rested, and developed respectively a good tenor and bass. the other rested (through removal to another town), and developed a very indifferent bass." in spite of this weighty and well-argued statement, my own opinion is that the preponderance of evidence is in favour of rest. it is certainly a new physiological doctrine for a short period of rest to injure or prevent the development of any organ. in short, i cannot see how there can be any disadvantage in a few months' rest, while from the other point of view there can be no musical advantage in the use of an unmusical instrument. as soon as the man's voice shows signs of settlement its practice should gently begin. [illustration: decoration] chapter ii. management of the breath. breathing in singing is a matter of the utmost importance. the breath is the motive power, the primary force, to which the larynx and the resonance chamber are but secondary. in speech we can manage with short breathing and half-filled lungs, but in sustaining the sounds of song, we need to breathe deeply, and to breathe in a right way. manifestly the act of breathing consists of two parts--( ) the drawing in, and ( ) the letting out of the breath. when we speak of modes of breathing, however, we refer to the drawing in of the breath. there are three ways of doing this. first, by lowering the diaphragm, and thus compelling the lungs to enlarge and fill the vacant space created. second, by extending the ribs sideways, causing the lungs to expand laterally. third, by drawing up the collar-bone and shoulder blades, causing the upper part of the lungs to expand. the third method is bad; the ideal breathing is a combination of the first and second. upon this athletes as well as singers are agreed. this is the breathing which we practise unconsciously in sleep, or in taking a long sniff at a flower. the musical results of bad breathing are flattening and a hurrying of the time; hence the importance of the matter. practice may well begin with a few minutes devoted to breathing exercises. let the boys inhale a long breath through the nose; hold it for a time, and then slowly exhale. again let them slowly inhale, hold, and exhale quickly, allowing the sides of the chest to collapse. again, let them, while holding the breath, press it from the lower to the middle, and to the upper part of the chest, and _vice versa_. during this exercise the body should be in the position of "stand at ease." the spirometer, a useful but rather expensive little instrument, measures accurately lung capacity. these breathing exercises may be followed by practice in holding a single tone for a period just short of exhaustion. [illustration: decoration] chapter iii. the art of managing choir boys. to some choirmasters the management of their boys is a perfectly easy matter; to others it is a constant source of trouble. everything depends upon knack. max o'rell has some wise maxims on the subject which it may be well to quote. "face the boys," he says, "or you will be nowhere. always be lively. never show your temper: to let the boys see that they can ruffle you is to give them a victory. allow no chatting. never over-praise clever boys; never snub dull ones. never expect any thanks. if a boy laughs at a mistake made by another boy, ask him for the answer immediately, and he will be dumb. if you do not love boys, never become a choir [school] master." discipline is preserved by giving the boys seats in the same relative position at rehearsal and in church. there should be a double row of desks in the practice room, provided with a shelf for books, just as in the stalls. if the boys have to hold the books and music in their hands they stoop, and the singing suffers. each boy should have a copy of the music, and it should bear his number, so that he is personally responsible for its good keeping. punctuality at rehearsal is important. let the choirmaster call for order at the exact time, and let the roll be gone over at once. to be unpunctual, or not to register early attendance, is to encourage laxity. there is no doubt that the long services in many churches are trying to the choir boys. in some churches the morning service lasts two hours and a quarter. it is very hard even for an adult to keep his thoughts from wandering, and his eyes from glancing over the congregation during all this time. how much more hard is it, then, for a boy who is by nature a fidget, and if healthy, brimming over with activity? nevertheless boys can be trained, if not to control their thoughts, at least to an outward reverence and quietude in harmony with the service. reproof, if it is needed, is best administered in private. boys should be paid, if only a small sum; this gives the choirmaster a hold upon them, and enables him to impose fines, if necessary. payment can be increased for those who take tonic sol-fa or other sight-singing certificates, which of course increase their value as choristers. let it be noted that the voices will carry further if the boys hold up their heads. this caution is especially needed when they are singing in the kneeling posture. all that can be done to interest the boys in their work by encouraging the social feeling, will be to the advantage of the choir. their hearts are easily won. an excursion, an evening party once a year are great attractions. mr. h. b. roney, of chicago, advocates a choir guild, and in the choir-room he would have a library, games, puzzles, footballs, bats and balls, indian clubs, and dumb-bells. he would open and warm the choir-room an hour before each service and rehearsal. to some extent he would let the youngsters govern themselves, and says that the gravity with which they will appoint a judge, a jury, sheriff, prisoner, and witnesses to try a case of infraction of the choir rules, would bring a smile to the face of a graven image. prizes at christmas are part of his scheme; these should be awarded for such points as punctuality, progress in music, reverential demeanour, and general excellence. according to mr. sergison, organist of st. peter's, eaton square, london, the choirmaster will have power if he make himself beloved. he should enter into the boys' way of looking at things, and remember that they have deep feelings. the boys should be arranged in classes, each higher class having higher pay, with sundry little privileges. mr. sergison says that by putting the boys upon their honour, and treating them well, he has always maintained strict discipline, and has never yet had to resort to corporal punishment. the rev. e. husband, of folkestone, who is an enthusiastic choir-trainer, is strongly of opinion that for vocal purposes working-class boys are better than the sons of gentlemen. he finds that boys of a lower class have richer and fuller voices than those above them in the social scale. i was myself present, not long since, at a concert at eton college, and although i was greatly struck with the purity of the tone, its volume was thin and somewhat shallow. one reason why working-class boys excel, probably, is that plain food and outdoor life keep the body in the best condition, so that the children of the poor, so long as they are well-nourished, are healthier than the children of the rich. but the working-class boys have also this advantage, that they begin life at four years of age in an infant school, where they sing every day, and receive systematic tonic sol-fa teaching which is continued when they pass into the boys' department. boys who are trained under governesses and at private preparatory schools often learn no singing at all. it is to be hoped that the diffusion of musical knowledge will make these class-comparisons, from a musical point of view, unnecessary. the choir-boys of christ church, oxford, are all the sons of professional men, but then the choice is a wide one, as they come from all parts of the country. the precentor of a cathedral writes to me on an important branch of our subject. i sincerely hope that his picture is not one that is generally true:-- "my own experience would suggest that in connection with the training of cathedral choristers the attention of cathedral organists might be very advantageously drawn to the very great importance of efficiency in the art of teaching--of imparting knowledge. the instruction given may be as good as could well be desired, but the manner of imparting it just as bad--such as would be condemned in any well-conducted public elementary school. uncontrolled temper, the cane, boxing of the ears, are matters which go far to prove a teacher very seriously incompetent as a teacher. a cathedral organist is specially exposed to the temptation to hastiness and harshness, owing to the power he possesses. a parent values the position of a chorister for his son, and the organist is tempted soon to take advantage of the parent's unwillingness to withdraw his son. in a parish choir, either voluntary or paid at a very low rate, the exhibition of bad temper or discourtesy in manner is quickly followed, in all probability, by the loss of the offended chorister. offensive manners on the part of the trainer quickly endanger the existence of the choir. not so in cathedrals, and the cathedral organist knows this. 'i cannot think why that boy does not sing in tune; i have boxed his ears;' said a cathedral organist once to me quite seriously. this proves, i think, how blind even a highly-trained musician may be to the need for any art in the mode of imparting instruction. i fear there is a vulgar notion (only half defined, most probably) that irascibility in the musical trainer is a mark of genius. i write from experience, having been upwards of a quarter of a century in cathedrals, and a considerable portion of that time precentor." in conclusion, the custom of throwing a halo of sentiment round choir-boys, and petting them, is much to be deprecated. it has become the custom to write tales and songs about them, in which they are made out to be little angels in disguise. all this is very foolish and harmful. choir-boys, as a rule, are no better and no worse than other boys. they respond well to wise treatment, but need to be governed by common sense, and to be taught their places. i am myself somewhat to blame for illustrating this book with two pictures of choir boys. it is really inconsistent. chapter iv. voice training. { c { b small { a { g {f upper thin. {e { {d {c lower thin. {b {a {g { {f upper thick. {e {d { c lower thick. { b_ { a_ { g_ before commencing to train a voice the choirmaster must make sure that it is a voice worth training. he must take the boy alone, test his voice by singing scales, and try especially his notes in the treble compass, say, [illustration: musical notation] he must test his ear by playing phrases, and asking the boy to sing them. he must enquire into his theoretical knowledge, if any, and ask if he has had a tonic sol-fa or any other systematic training. the ear of the choirmaster must decide upon the voice. it is said by some that boys' voices partake of one or other of two qualities, the flute quality or the oboe quality. they differ, no doubt, in _timbre_, but these two divisions are not clearly marked. the diagram at the side gives the compass of the registers in boy trebles and altos. the names are those invented by the late john curwen, and have the advantage of describing the physiological action that goes on. thus in the thick register, the vocal cords vibrate in their whole thickness; in the thin register their thin edges alone vibrate; and in the small register a small aperture only is made, through which the sound comes. the registers are practically the same as those of women's voices. they may be shown on the staff, thus:-- [illustration: lower thick. upper thick. lower thin. upper thin. small. chest. middle. falsetto.] i give below the staff another set of names which are sometimes used, but different voice-trainers attach to these different meanings. it is undesirable to tell the boys anything about the registers. the spirit of voice-training at the present time is too analytical. the theory of the registers is for the teacher, not for the pupil. some voice-trainers seem to think that it is their business to discover the registers, but as far as tone goes it is their business to conceal them. trainers work better through possessing physiological knowledge, but the end is a smooth and homogeneous voice, blended and well-built. roughly speaking, the boys to be rejected are those who through carelessness, excitement, or confirmed habit, force up the thick register while singing. and those to be accepted are the boys who have sufficient reserve and care to turn into the fluty tone at the proper place, whether the music be loud or soft, and whatever be the shape of the melodic passage. the right use of the voice is most likely to come from boys who, whatever their social status, are well brought up, and have been taught to avoid screaming, coarse laughing and bawling, and if possible to speak in a clear way. voice studies are of two kinds. first come those which promote the building and setting of the voice. these are generally sung slowly. when the voice is becoming settled exercises for agility may be introduced. of agility exercises most voice-training books contain plenty. there is a good selection in mr. sinclair dunn's "the solo singer's vade mecum" (j. curwen & sons, price s.) and sir john stainer has written a set, printed on a card, which is published by mowbray, oxford and london, price d. when the system of probationers is at work the voice-building exercises will not be much needed. the little boys will insensibly fall into right habits. they will learn to produce tone as they learnt to speak--by ear. but when a new choir has to be formed, the building exercises are necessary. and the first object of these is to make the boy feel the thin register and strengthen it by use. for this purpose such phrases as these, which leap into the thin register, and quit it by step are the best:-- [illustration: key =e=[b]. d t l s d t l s m r d t d ] [illustration: key =g=. s f m r f m r d l s f s m] these exercises should be sung to several vowels, but especially to the sound "koo," which will at first immensely amuse the boys, but will afterwards be found to throw the tone forward towards the teeth in a way that no other sound does. pure vowel tone goes with pure and resonant voice. the broad and pure vowels of the yorkshire dialect have, more than anything else, produced the yorkshire voices. hence the choirmaster must make a determined effort to cure provincialisms in so far as they prevent the issue of pure vowel sounds from the mouth. the vowels should be sung in their vocal order as recommended by mr. behnke, oo (as in _you_), o (as in _owe_), ah (as in _shah_), a (as _pay_), and ee (as in _see_). these may be taken to slow scales, thus:-- [illustration: oo-o-ah-a-ee oo-o-ah-a-ee, &c.] let the choirmaster watch carefully for impure sounds, and call upon each boy to sing two measures by himself from time to time. in singing the boy should stand upright and free. he must not lean or bend his body. the mouth must be fairly opened, but not too wide. as the voice ascends the mouth opens wider. the lips must lie lightly on the teeth, and the tongue should lie at rest, just touching the front teeth. if, for the sake of change during a long rehearsal, the boys sit, let it be remembered that there are many ways of sitting, and that the upright posture hinders the breath less than lolling and a crooked posture. rigidity is the enemy of all good singing. let the whole body and vocal apparatus be relaxed, and pure tone will result. "if i hear a boy forcing up his voice," said herr eglinger, of basel, to me, "i ask the rest of the class to point him out, and they do it at once." this at once cures the transgressor and sharpens the consciences of the other boys. as to the vowel on which singers should be trained, there are differences of opinion. maurice strakosch, the trainer of patti, nilsson, &c., used "ha," which causes a slight breath to precede the articulation. this, he said, gives the voice a natural start. it is something like the "koo" of mrs. seiler. learners he required to lower their heads while singing, and to show the upper teeth, so as to keep the lips out of the way of the tone. mr. barnicott, a successful choirmaster at taunton, uses "ka." but as in the actual singing of the english language all the vowels are encountered in turn, it would seem reasonable that they should all be included in the practice. mr. walter brooks, quoted elsewhere, lays stress upon long-sustained notes in the scale of e flat, and up to g. these expand the lower part of the lungs, and produce steady, firm tone. they should be sung both loud and soft, the boys one by one and together. an admirable plan is to keep boys on the alert listening for faults, asking those not singing, "whose fault is that?" jealousy and conceit, says mr. brooks, are avoided by giving a solo to three or four boys to sing in unison. three or four will blend better than two, and after proper rehearsal the tone is so like one voice that people say, "what a beautiful voice that boy has!" as to balance of parts, the following table is given by mr. h. b. roney of chicago:-- sopranos altos tenors basses -- -- -- -- -- mr. stocks hammond says that during voice exercise the boys should stand perfectly erect, with mouth well open, the shoulders being thrown back. after exercise in slowly inhaling and exhaling the breath, comes the uniting of the registers. this is accomplished by singing up and down the scales of c, d, and e to the syllable "ah." each tone is taken with decision, and is followed by a slight pause. the same scales are afterwards sung to "oh" and "oo." this exercise should not last longer that ten or fifteen minutes. staccato scales to "ah!" "oh!" and chromatic passages are introduced later. mr. g. bernard gilbert, f.c.o., of west ham parish church, is an exceptionally skilled trainer of boys' voices. he meets his boys half-an-hour before each of the sunday services and "tunes them up," an admirable plan, which cannot be too widely imitated. the first thing he does in training boys is to teach them to attack and leave sounds with precision, neatness, and proper register or quality of voice. he gives chief attention to the sounds between [illustration: here the author expresses a range from the f above middle-c (or f ) to the c above middle-c (c ) by inserting a staff] and first practises them. if beauty of tone is to be obtained, it is of the utmost importance that these sounds should be given in the thin register. mr. gilbert has cultivated this register in his own voice, and is able to give the boys a pattern in the right octave, which he thinks of great use. the change from upper thick to lower thin takes place between e and f. the boys should intone in the thin register. flattening while intoning is almost entirely due to boys using the thick register. mr. gilbert uses the vowels as arranged by mr. behnke, oo-o-ah-ai-ee, practised first with a slight breath between each, afterwards all in one breath, _piano_ and _staccato_. consonants preceding these vowels are of little value, as they only disguise a wrong action of the glottis, without removing the fault. he uses also sustained sounds, and short major or minor arpeggi, and last of all scale passages. if due attention be given to the intonation of the arpeggio, the scale should not be, as it too often is, all out of tune. the arpeggio is its skeleton or framework. mr. gilbert alternates this work with the singing of intervals and the practice of time rhythms. he attaches great value to the vowel "e" in practising sustained notes, scales or arpeggi, though other vowels must receive due attention. "e" has the advantage of bringing the vocal cords very close to together, thereby effecting a greater economy of the breath than is possible with the other vowels. he has constantly succeeded in making boys produce a pure and beautiful tone to this vowel, especially in that part of the voice called the upper thin, when he could not do so with the others. of course "e" can be sung badly, and boys will sometimes make a nasal squeak of it, but the correct placing of the tone is quickly learnt if the teeth are kept nicely apart. mr. gilbert teaches the boys when very young the mechanism which governs their voices above [illustration: high f] this is the "small" register. he is careful also about pronunciation, recommends that boys should be paid, and that bad behaviour, laziness, or irregularity, if they occur, should be punished by fines. one of the most marked excellences of mr. gilbert's choir is its chanting, and the elocutional phrasing of the words of the hymns. the rigidity of the time is often broken with impressive effect in order, by an elocutional pause, to throw into relief a prominent word or idea. * * * * * mr. t. h. collinson, mus.b., organist of st. mary's cathedral, edinburgh, has given me some interesting particulars of the training which his excellent boys undergo. the process of selection is as follows:--( ) advertisement. ( ) trial of voice, and entry of particulars of school, school standard, father's occupation, &c. ( ) choice of most promising voices. ( ) inspection of homes, as to overcrowding, &c. ( ) appointment of probationers. ( ) full appointment, with religious service of admission by the dean. the parents engage in writing to retain the child in the choir school until his voice changes, or to the average age of fourteen. the boys are taken at all ages from to - / . "cultivation of tone, blending of registers, and accuracy of pitch are specially studied, the principal means being as follows:--( ) mouth-opening (silently). ( ) breathing exercise. ( ) sustained notes _piano_, each to full length of breath. ( ) _piano_ scales. ( ) simple flexibility exercises, _e.g._, sir j. stainer's card of exercises, published by mowbray. ( ) _crescendo_ and _diminuendo_. ( ) behnke's resonance vowels, oo-o-ah. ( ) behnke's glottis-stroke exercises, oo-o-ah-ai-ee. ( ) no accompaniment, except a single note on the pianoforte every three or four bars to test pitch. where badly flat, a scolding, and going back to try over again. ( ) at early morning practice no _forte_ singing is allowed, as a rule. "by the above means, especially sustained notes and _piano_ scales, flatness is easily avoided, and the registers blend perfectly. a curious local peculiarity has to be specially treated in the junior boys. the scottish 'u' as in 'gude' (good), 'puir' (poor), 'nü' (new), is identical with the french 'u' in 'tu' or 'hugo,' and the little fellows sing an amusing exercise like the following:-- you should do two, on every note of the scale, with special care to protrude the lips to a round whistling shape for the 'oo.' very oddly they sing a good 'oo' in the falsetto register, and a certain solo boy used to sing handel's 'how beautiful are the feet' in its first two phrases in alternate scotch and english, the vinegary 'ü' in the first (low) phrase, and a fine round 'oo' in the higher phrase, where 'beautiful' begins on e flat. "raw candidates and ill-taught children generally come minus any register at all above [illustration: high d] and grin with surprise on being taught to produce sweet upper notes by open-mouth _piano_ 'ah.' "colds and petty hoarseness, interfering with the upper notes, are terribly common in this climate in the class of boys obtained for the choir. a successful soloist at friday rehearsal may be found incompetent by sunday, so that all solo work is carefully understudied. a few minutes each day suffice for the purely technical voice exercises. the services are many in number; three on sunday, two on week-days, and occasional extra services at special seasons. the number of boys is kept up to say , and they are worked in divisions to minimise their duties. the boys are educated free, and seniors receive payment. 'i think that boys' voices are much like unto boys' legs--they need daily exercise if they are to be worth anything.'" * * * * * mr. r. h. saxton, of buxton, writes:--"my choir boys are almost exclusively drawn from the working class, and the majority of them use the thick register for the speaking voice. i take them at nine years of age, sometimes younger if they can read fairly well, and my first effort is to suppress the thick register altogether in singing. if they were encouraged to use it they would most certainly abuse it by carrying it far beyond its proper range. soft singing is the only effective plan i know of for removing the tendency to use the thick register. this i insist on in modulator voluntaries and time exercises. the time exercises are always laa'd on or above [illustration: middle a]. in modulator work i at first avoid beginning in the lower keys where the thick register would naturally be used. by thus constantly cultivating the thin register, never allowing faulty intonation to pass unnoticed, and always checking the natural tendency of boys to sing coarsely; together with a free use of ear exercises, in which they are taught to recognise tones by their mental effect, i succeed at last in getting fairly good tone. it is, however, a work of time and difficulty, on account of the daily surroundings of the boys, and the habitually coarse way in which they are allowed to sing in school. to avoid flattening, i believe the course i have indicated to be the best remedy, as eye, ear, and voice are cultivated simultaneously. "in training the thin register special care must be taken that the upper thin is brought out at [illustration: high d] and it is often better that the c also should be taken in the upper thin. a strained lower thin on c sharp or d will be sure to induce flattening, while if the upper thin is properly used there is no difficulty whatever in using the high d and e within reasonable limits as the reciting note in chanting. when the music moves about stepwise in close proximity above and below the breaks, we have another cause of flattening. as most of our country choirs consist at the best of but partly-trained voices, composers and choirmasters should bear this in mind. it must not be supposed that boys are the sole cause of flattening. far from it, they are too often the victims of an untuneful tenor or bass. "from the first moment a boy comes under my care he is encouraged to take the tonic sol-fa certificates, and few leave the choir without having passed the intermediate. i am of course now speaking of those boys who remain with us till they are no longer of use as boys." * * * * * i append an extract from a letter by mr. j. c. e. taylor, master of the boys' national school at penzance, and choirmaster of st. mary's church, which is interesting as showing the extent to which singing by ear can be carried:-- "the children here, as in most cornish towns, are fond of music, and have a quick ear. i pick my boys from a school of nearly . i choose them by the way they _read_ in school. they are generally of standard v., and between ten and eleven years of age. if younger the psalms puzzle them. i try a new boy's voice at the choir practice. if he has a sweet tone, and can reach f sharp, however faintly, i accept him, and keep him on probation at the practices. about half-a-dozen are so kept, and the best lad fills any vacancy occurring in the choir. i have no trouble as regards discipline, as a fine, or the knowledge that their places can be instantly filled by the probationers, keeps the choristers well in their places. at the choir practices i begin with running up and down the scales with their voices together, beginning soft, and allowing the voices to increase as the scales ascend, and diminish on descending, but holding on to the top-most notes whilst i play a chord or two on it. then with a nod of my head they descend. at times one note is given them on which to _cres._ and _dim._, for breathing exercise. not one lad knows his notes except as to their rise and fall and values. they depend on their ear entirely, even in the most difficult fugues." at this church anthems and settings of the canticles are sung every sunday evening. the men are voluntary; the head boys get from s. to s. a year, the solo boys receiving d. or d. as an encouragement after rendering a solo or verse part. * * * * * in spite of all that can be written on the subject of voice-training, the art is one most difficult to communicate. some teachers succeed; others fail. a remarkable instance of this came under my notice lately. the headmaster of a school asked me to pay his boys a visit in order, if possible, to discover the reason of the great falling-off in their singing. his previous singing-teacher had brought the boys to a high pitch of excellence. when he left, the singing was placed under the charge of an undermaster, who had for a year or more heard all the singing lessons given by his predecessor, who used the same voice exercises with the same boys in the same room. surely, one would have thought the results must be the same. but the singing had deteriorated; flattening, and a lifeless manner had overcome the boys. the causes, so far as i could discover, were first that the new teacher wanted the magnetic, enthusiastic way of the old, and second, that he had not so quick an ear for change of register, and allowed the lower mechanism of the voice to be forced up higher than its proper limits. * * * * * this chapter focuses a large amount of valuable experience, but amid the many hints which are given, two ways of securing right tone stand out with marked prominence. they are, soft singing, and the downward practice of scales. [illustration: decoration] chapter v. information on voice-training, collected by the salisbury diocesan choral association. i am indebted to the rev. w. miles barnes, rector of monkton, dorchester, for the following information, recently obtained by him on the subject of voice-training. it appears that for the information of choir instructors (some in number) in union with the salisbury diocesan choral association, the advice of precentors and organists of cathedrals was lately sought as to the best way of correcting a very common fault in the singing of country choirs. the following questions were proposed: "(i.) it is a common practice in country choirs for boys and tenors to force the lower register to sing notes which should be taken in the higher or head register. the notes thus forced are harsh and unmusical in tone, and generally flat in pitch. how would you correct this fault in boys?" "(ii.) what method is employed in ---- cathedral for developing and strengthening the higher (head) register in boys' voices?" the following are extracts from the replies:-- rev. f. j. helmore, precentor of canterbury. i should recommend the practice of the first five notes of the scales of a, b[b], b, and c, _piano_, taken rather slowly, and then of intervals from g to d, g to e[b], g to e, a to e, &c. &c. after that i would try them with the complete scales of e, f, f[#], and g, fast and _forte_, thus:-- [illustration: musical notation] if no improvement is perceptible, begin again. practice is the main thing, after a boy has got to understand his faults. rev. w. mann, m.a., precentor of bristol. ( .) i think it almost impossible to remedy the evil you complain of after the boys have been accustomed to sing upper notes from the chest for some time--say one or two years. our practice here is to secure boys between the ages of and , before they have been singing elsewhere, or certainly before they have acquired any faulty tricks of forcing the voice. ( .) in training boys' voices never allow them to shout. if they commence singing when young they may be taught by scale practice (always singing quietly) to bridge over the break which exists between the chest and head voice. this is an art, and requires experience. ( .) speaking generally, i should say that judicious scale practice is the remedy likely to be of most service in the case specified, teaching boys, by singing quietly, to glide the chest voice into the upper register. i recommend the syllable "la" as generally best for the purpose all through the scale. boys should keep their tongues down, open mouths well, sing not through teeth, &c. &c. i find that boys acquire the cathedral style of singing (with the well-known flute or bell-like tone) chiefly by example. in singing with boys who have already acquired it the younger ones catch the style, just as birds are taught to sing by trained songsters. the untrained rustic can never naturally produce this tone, but much may be done by ( ) careful scale practice; ( ) strict enforcement of a quiet easy style, and rigid prohibition of shouting, or forcing the voice; ( ) the occasional example of trained singers. rev. c. hylton stewart, precentor of chester. the great thing is not to train boys _up_ through break in the voice, but _down_ through it, and so to coach them that the break becomes imperceptible. the top notes ought to be practised very softly until a good round note is procured. this, however, can seldom be done out of a cathedral, as it requires constant attention. rev. w. e. dickson, precentor of ely. in this cathedral, and i suppose in every other, the boys have at least one hour of daily practice under the most favourable circumstances of quiet music-room and good pianoforte, and an able teacher. the two orderly services follow with the regularity of a clock, and in these the voices of the boys are balanced and supported by those of adult singers--presumably, good vocalists. i think you will agree that no practical rules, available by instructors of village choirs, can be founded upon arrangements so far beyond their reach. to describe any "method" of developing voices under such circumstances would be quite delusive. a life-long experience in the training of parish choirs would lead me to say that the best approach to true voice production is made when a lady takes charge of the choir, and has the boys to practise at her own house. to say that all instructors should use unwearied diligence and unfailing patience and kindness in the attempt to get soft singing, is only to repeat a very trite remark. in schools, the mistake is often made of singing almost all the exercises in the key of c, and commencing all scales with the syllable "do." in trying candidates for admission to the choir, we constantly find that they have been accustomed to a scale of notes only (one octave) up and down. the scales should begin on all or any of the notes--d[#], b[symbol: natural], g[b], &c., and the peculiarities of the intervals should be familiarly explained. a pamphlet might be written. but there is no "royal road." j. m. w. young, esq., organist of lincoln. the precentor has forwarded your note to me. in answer to your question asking how to prevent the trebles in country choirs from forcing the upper notes, i would suggest that when practising the choir, care should be taken that the trebles are never allowed to sing even the _middle_ notes _loud_, only _mf_, and they should be frequently practised to sing _piano_. if this be attended to, it will, in a great measure, prevent the forcing of the voice on the higher notes, which should never be practised otherwise than softly. country choirs nearly always sing twice as loud as they ought to do, consequently the tone becomes harsh and grating, and they invariably sing the upper notes out of tune. i never allow the cathedral choristers to practise in a loud tone of voice, yet their voices are rich and mellow, and there is never any want of power when it is required. any tendency to force the voice is checked at once. it will be found very useful to practise the trebles with the diatonic scale at a moderately quick pace, taking care to sing it _smoothly_ and _piano throughout_, first to "oo," next to "oh," and finally to "ah." [illustration: decoration] chapter vi. pronunciation in singing. it is impossible to emphasise too strongly the importance of clear pronunciation in singing. the english, as a rule, pronounce indistinctly. "we carry on our talk," says mr. h. deacon, "in mere _smudges_ of sound," a graphic and true way of putting things. the scotch, welsh, and americans pronounce better than we do. indistinctness and bad dialect arise, roughly speaking, from two sources--impure vowels and omitted consonants. the impure vowels are generally due to local habits of speech, such as the london dialect, which makes a colourless mixture of all the vowels. in some parts of scotland also the vowels are very impure. the voice-training exercises given elsewhere are several of them directed towards the production of good vowel tone, but the danger is lest the power gained in these should not be applied to the actual words encountered in psalm, canticle, anthem, or hymn. a sentence containing all the vowels may be chanted repeatedly on a monotone, but after all the best exercise consists in constant watchfulness against mispronunciation in the ordinary weekly practice. man, according to mr. r. g. white, may be defined as a consonant-using animal. he alone of all animals uses consonants. the cries of animals and of infants are inarticulate. so is the speech of a drunken man, who descends, vocally as well as in other ways, to the level of the beasts. this idea has been expressed in another way, by saying that vowels express the emotional side of speech, and consonants its intellectual side. all these distinctions point to the great importance of a clear enunciation of initial and final consonants, and a clear separation of words. a well-known bishop said to a candidate for ordination, "before uttering a second word be sure that you have yourself heard the first." it is of no use to give a list of common errors, because each part of the country has its own bad points of dialect. the choirmaster should take his standard of english from the best preacher and reader he has the chance to hear, and endeavour to conform his boys to it. but localisms are not the only faults. boys are very apt to clip their words in chanting, to omit the smaller parts of speech altogether, and to invent new and meaningless sounds of their own. the most familiar parts of the service need frequent and watchful rehearsal to prevent this tendency. chanting, as a rule, is much too fast, and the eagerness of the boys must be restrained in this direction. in those rare cases where pronunciation and elocutional phrasing reach a high pitch of excellence, the music of the service makes a double appeal to the heart. it bears not only the charm of sweet sounds, but the eloquence of noble words. [illustration: decoration] chapter vii. singing by ear and by note. many choirmasters maintain that, considering the short musical life of the choir-boy, it is not worth while to teach him to sing by note. the quickness of boys' ears for music, they say, is astonishing, while their memories are equally good. between the two faculties--ear and memory--we are told that all things necessary are supplied. the boys, it is said, don't like theory, and it saves time and patience not to have to teach it to them. i am altogether at issue with this view. i believe theory can be made interesting to boys, especially if the tonic sol-fa system is used, and that if they are taught sight-singing the choirmaster saves himself a vast amount of trouble. the after musical doings of the boys should also be considered, and whether they become tenors and basses, or take to an instrument, the power to read music will be a happiness through their whole lives. the leading anthems, services, and psalters are now published in the tonic sol-fa notation, so that boys who have learnt to sing from the letters at school may quickly be put to sing their parts in the church choir. the late alfred stone, of bristol, who used the tonic sol-fa notation for his choir boys, found it a great time-saver. so quickly was the service music got through at the weekly practice that there was nearly an hour to spare for singing glees and getting up cantatas. mr. stone arranged his boys in two grades. the upper grade all held a tonic sol-fa certificate, and they received higher pay than the lower grade. the result of this arrangement was that the lower boys got the upper ones to teach them tonic sol-fa in their playtime, and thus saved the choirmaster a great deal of trouble. a serious disadvantage of the ordinary way of learning to sing from the staff notation is that practice usually begins in, and is for several months confined to key c. for boys' voices this is the most trying of all the keys--the one most likely to lead to bad habits in the use of the registers. the keys for boys to begin in are g and f, where you can get a cadence upon the tonic in the thin register. a german choirmaster, whose choir is greatly celebrated, has sent me a little book of exercises which he uses, and i find that, as in most english publications of a similar kind, there are pages of exercises in key c, before any other key is attempted. in tonic sol-fa all keys are equally available from the first. i have had a wide experience of boys taught on all systems, both in this country and abroad. i have been present, by the courtesy of choirmasters, at rehearsals in all parts of the country. and i have noticed that boys taught by ear, or taught the staff notation by the fixed _do_, make mistakes which boys trained by tonic sol-fa and singing from it, or applying their knowledge of it to the staff notation, could not make. the class of mistake i refer to is that which confuses the place of the semitones in the scale. a sight-singing manual which i picked up the other day says that the whole matter of singing at sight lies in knowing where the semitones come. and from one point of view this is true, but to the tonic sol-faist the semitones always come in the same places, _i.e_., between _me_ and _fah_, and between _te_ and _doh_. he has only one scale to learn, and as to modulation, that is accomplished for him by his notation, while the time marks, separating and defining the beats or pulses of the music, make rhythm vividly clear. if choirmasters wish to save themselves trouble, and get confident attack and good intonation from their boys, they should teach them the tonic sol-fa notation, and let them sing from it always. the staff notation they can easily learn later on. chapter viii. flattening, and singing out of tune. the trainer of adult voices has constantly before him the problem of making his pupils sing in tune. with boys this matter is less of a trouble, for this reason. many adults have fine voices which, if their intonation can be improved, will do great things. others have incurably bad voices, but possessing the ambition and the means for studying singing, they come under the hands of the professor. in the case of boys, however, there is a preliminary process of selection by which the teacher rejects at the outset any defective ears and voices. the trainer of boys chooses his pupils; adult students of singing, as a rule, choose their teacher. even, however, when a good set of boys has been chosen and trained, every choirmaster is troubled from time to time by the evils which i have named at the head of this paper. what are their causes? probably no cause is so fruitful as a misuse of the registers of the voice, a straining upwards of the lower register beyond its proper limits. this may be placed in the front as a perpetual cause of bad intonation and loss of pitch. this straining is usually accompanied with loud singing, but boys who have formed this bad habit will not at once sustain the pitch if told to sing softly. their voices, under these circumstances, will at first prove weak and husky, and will flatten as much with soft singing as they did with loud. a slow process of voice training can alone set them right. but as boys' voices last so short a time this treatment is not worth the trouble. boys who have fallen into thoroughly bad habits should therefore be dismissed, and a fresh selection made. some choirmasters imagine that practice with the organ or the pianoforte will cure flattening and uncertainty. this, however, is not the case. probably the effort to keep up the pitch which singers make when unaccompanied keeps their minds and throats tense and active, while the consciousness that the instrument is supporting them makes them careless. an instrument reveals loss of pitch, but does not cure it. no good choirmaster rehearses with the organ. a pianoforte, lightly touched, is commonly used, but the teacher should frequently leave his seat, and accustom the choir to go on alone. it is a mistake to suppose that boys flatten because the music is too high. this is very rarely the case. they are more likely to flatten because it is too low. boys attack high notes with greater ease than women. nervousness will cause a singer who has sung in perfect tune at home to sing sharp or flat at a concert. but nervousness does not greatly trouble boys. carelessness will sometimes cause these troubles. the way to cure this is to increase the interest of the rehearsal, to make the boys feel bright, happy, and comfortable. to mark the breathing places is a good way of preventing flattening, which is often caused by exhausted lungs. singing is a mental as well as a physical act, and unless the boy has a clear conception in his mind of the sound of the note he wants, the intonation will be uncertain. here comes in the tonic sol-fa system with its "mental effects," which give a recognisable character to each note of the scale, and guide the voice and ear. bad voice production, throaty and rigid, must always go with flattening and wavering pitch. the act of singing should be without effort; the muscles of head, neck, and throat should be relaxed. a boy inclined to these faults should be told to smile while singing. the tone will then become natural. but in spite of all these hints, flattening occurs from time to time in the best trained choirs, and seems to defy the skill of the choirmaster. all agree that a half empty church, a cold church, an ill-ventilated church promotes flattening, and it may be added that certain chants and tunes so hover about the region of the break that they invite false intonation. mr. h. a. donald, headmaster of the upton cross board school, tells me that he has not much flattening, but that when it comes it seems to be beyond control. the discipline of his school is excellent, but on a given day there will come, as it were, a mood over the boys which makes it impossible for them, try as they will, to avoid sinking. sometimes, but not always, this will happen in warm weather. he has more than once abandoned the singing lesson, and taken up some other study because of it. one day recently the boys were most attentive, and their vexation and disappointment with the flattening was evident. another day it does not trouble them in the least. this is a school where voice-training is exceptionally well looked after. several correspondents have favoured me with experience on this point, and i now proceed to quote their letters. mr. w. w. pearson, of elmham, writes:-- "ordinary flat singing is the result of want of practice and experience. chronic flat singing is incurable, as it is due to a defective ear. a new lot of choir boys will be liable to sing flat, and to lower their pitch at any time for the first year or so; but after they have been in training for a considerable time, i never find that there is any inclination to sing flat. the notes most liable to be sung flat are the third and sixth of the scale, or any high note that requires courage and increased effort. one of these, having been sung flat, is taken by the singers as a new departure, and being used as a standard, the pitch is lowered, and all succeeding notes are flat. "when i first formed my present choir i was very much plagued with flat singing, but i am seldom troubled in that way now, and i think the reason is that a large proportion of the members have been under training for a long time. "i used to find flattening prevail more in muggy, damp, or cold weather, and in heated rooms. i never allowed the choir to go on in this way, but stopped them at once, making them begin again after singing the scale of the key a few times. this, of course, refers to practice. in church i used to play the organ louder when i heard the pitch going down; or i would put on a powerful solo stop for the melody, and slightly prolong the final note of a cadence, in order that when the choir ceased singing they might hear the difference. when flattening occurred in the concert room i used to stop the accompaniment, which is, i think, about all that can be done under those circumstances. when the choir have been hopelessly bad in a hot practice room i have cured them by bringing them out into a cold room adjoining." mr. c. hibberd, of bemerton, salisbury, writes:-- "to prevent flattening i give great attention to the posture, seeing that the boys do not stand carelessly. a careless posture, i think, betokens a careless mind. i am careful not to overtire the children. they sit immediately one piece is finished, and stand immediately i sound the first chord of the next piece. i always start the practice with a few simple voice exercises. when training the choir of a place far away in the country, i spent more time than usual in giving ear exercises (dictation), as well as voice-training exercises. i pay great attention to 'mental effect,' and endeavour to let each boy or girl have a tonic sol-fa copy of the music. the syllables recall the mental effect to the mind. there should be no uncertainty as to either time or tune, and both words and notes should be attacked or struck with confidence. i always practise scales downwards, and have as little to do with the harmonium as possible at practice. boy altos i rarely come across. i tried them once, but found they aided in flattening. we have two men altos here, who sing in a falsetto voice. the boys here have a name for singing well in tune, and they are very willing to do anything to keep up their character." mr. walter brooks, in a paper in the _monthly musical record_, expresses the opinion that the rd and th of the major scale are often sung flat. to cure this, each boy must tune up separately, then all should be tried together. minor passages are often sung flat. loss of pitch during service may, he says, be remedied, not by loud organ stops, but by playing the boys' part an octave higher. sharp singing, which often arises from naturally defective or badly-trained ears, is cured best by checking those who can only sing loudly, and by insisting on _piano_ singing. to put on more organ power makes the loud sharp singing worse. herr eglinger, of basel, whose qualifications i have referred to elsewhere, considers that flattening is generally due to fatigue. the membranes which produce the voice are not yet strong, and they relax, producing flattening. he works on the principle that children are quickly tired, and quickly rested, and gives the singing in small doses. unfortunately, in church work the length of the dose is not a matter of choice. he notices, what others have noticed, that when the voices are divided into three parts, it is the middle part that flattens most; this is because it plays about the break. to choirmasters whose boys flatten, herr eglinger says:-- "give rest; require a proper use of the registers; get sharp and exact pronunciation, especially of the consonants; and keep up with a strong hand the attention and interest of the choir." i close this chapter by printing a short paper on the subject kindly written for me by mr. w. h. richardson, formerly trainer of the celebrated swanley orphans' choir, which gave concerts in all parts of the country. mr. richardson, while he was at swanley, obtained results of the most remarkable excellence. at swanley there was no selection of voices: all were made to sing, and all were individually trained, as well as collectively. "my conviction," says mr. richardson, "is that there are no more defective voices than there are eyes and ears." the rev. w. j. weekes, late precentor of rochester cathedral, said of the swanley boys:-- "the smaller boys were first tested--some thirty or forty little fellows, some of them new arrivals. here the tone, though of course not strong, was pure and sweet, such as would have done credit to cathedral boys after a couple of years' training, and they 'jumped' their intervals most clearly, lighting as full and fairly on the correct note as a bird does on a bough. thence we moved into the larger schoolroom, where were assembled some hundred older boys, and such a body of sound, so full and pure, so free from throatiness, and so true in intonation as these hundred throats emitted, i certainly never heard from boys' voices before." in i took the late signor roberti, teacher of singing in the normal college at turin, and an italian composer of eminence, to hear the swanley boys, and he afterwards wrote to mr. richardson:-- "i do not exaggerate in any way by saying that i found there a true perfection in tune and in rhythm, but above all, in what concerns the pure and correct emission of voices, the careful and judicious training of which confers much honour upon you, and i would be happy to see it even partly imitated by the teachers of the so-called land of song." these facts are enough to prove the weight that attaches to mr. richardson's utterances:-- "my experience has been that flattening will give the teacher very little trouble after the pupils have been drilled with voice-training exercises, but until the voices are built and strengthened, he will have unpleasant surprises of all kinds. if he would have a reliable choir he must begin, continue, and end with regular voice training based on an undeniably good system. from the very outset the pupil should be taught to fear flat singing as a demon. with my boys i was for ever laying down the self-evident truth, 'people can endure your singing if it be tuneful, even though all other points of excellence are low, but no one can put up with your singing out of tune, except as martyrs.' the cause of flattening is always lack of culture. in the choirs i have trained it has ceased to trouble me after a few months. the habit of letting the pitch drop fosters itself in a remarkable manner, until at last the ear of the performer is perfectly satisfied with the production of a monstrosity. in proof of this i would mention a case which has come painfully under my own notice. a number of boys known to me have been in the daily habit of singing the tune:-- [illustration: key e[b].:d | m:f:r | d:-:m | s:-:l | s:-:s | d :-:t | l:-s | &c.] and as they have only had a 'go as you please system' to hold them in, they now commence flattening at once with a _crescendo_ which culminates in the second line, and creates the effect:-- [illustration::d | m:f:r |d:-:m |s:-:l | s:-:s | d :-:t |l:-:s|| &c.] the original quite gone, they quite satisfied! the cause of continued flat singing is allowing the _bad habit_. i am not, of course, dealing with exceptional cases of natural inaptitude. these are rare, and i say this after having had some years of experience in testing individual voices. i could now with very little difficulty name the few pupils i had at swanley who were naturally unable to sing tunefully, and i doubt not that nearly all my old scholars could do the same. they were in reality exceptions, numbering, during the whole of the time i was with them, not more than half-a-dozen. "there is one stage in the voice training where the teacher finds his pupils (boys i am speaking of, my experience with adults not having been so extensive) habitually _sharpen_. in my own neighbourhood a teacher who has commenced to properly train his boys to sing, in a conversation he had with me told me of this, to him, unexpected difficulty. to get good intonation in part-singing, i found the singing of chords a great help. the class should be divided rapidly, and one note of the chord assigned to each section. then it should be sung softly. this should be repeated with other chords, and followed by easy phrases. voices do not at once blend, and until they do the singing should be never loud. i look upon the earlier work as tentative--a feeling for the beauty of perfection of pitch, tunefulness, and intonation. a practice to be condemned is that of learning the parts of a tune separately, and then bringing them together. there are, of course, places where it is absolutely necessary to give special attention to exceptional passages, but it is a mistake to teach each part as though it were an independent tune--to give the direction, which i have often heard, 'now sing your part, and never mind what the others are doing,' or 'don't you listen to any other part.' this system is answerable for the most offending cases of want of tunefulness, in which one part will sing on with the greatest of satisfaction in a key a semitone from that in which the part above or below is moving. the ear should be prepared by a symphony, or by thinking of the key before a piece is commenced. my own practice has been to wait after giving the key-note for the pupils to do this. i have recently come across a method of allowing the pupils to find the tonic of a song about to be sung, which in nine cases out of ten will make the opening as 'restless' as the sea waves. the teacher strikes the c fork, and the tonic being f, all the pupils sing c', b, a, g, f--doh. the c', b, a, g, f is, i think, as likely to unsettle the ear as anything that could be imagined. the teacher should give the key-note. he may teach his pupils to use the fork if he will, but _not_ in a way so exquisitely calculated to unsettle the ear when it should be strongly decided. "with regard to registers, i do not know whether the nomenclature i employed with my swanley choir will be commended by you, but as it was successful i will describe it. the registers we called, perhaps inelegantly, 'top,' 'middle,' and 'bottom,' these terms being handier than upper thin, lower thin, and upper thick. the earliest exercises were in the top register--that is, the upper thin. boys untrained are, taken in bulk, unconscious of the thin register. having got them to sing, say c to koo, i have followed it by singing to the same syllable the tune:-- [illustration: key a[b] | m:m |f:f |s:--|m:--|| &c.] ('now the day is over,'--_a. & m._), and the delight has been intense when the pupils have thus discovered how clearly and sweetly they could sing. when this is done great possibilities seem to open, and the pupil is on the road to perfection. b[b] and e[b] i found most convenient for change. the small register must have been used, as my lads sang up to c with the greatest ease and finish, though one of our foremost teachers, in a conference i had with him on the subject, said he would stake his reputation that the small register was not employed by them. it received no name in our practices after that authoritative statement, and ever afterwards i was in dread of being called over the coals for allowing the top register to get too high. "boy altos can be made to sing without flattening, though they invariably give more trouble than trebles on account of their willingness to let the lower register overlap the one above--to force upward. they should practise with the trebles such exercises as:-- [illustration: key e[b] s f m r d] so as to strengthen this part of the voice, which may be termed their flattening field." chapter ix. on the training of boys' voices. by w. h. richardson, formerly conductor of the swanley orphanage choir.[a] [a] mr. richardson has responded to my request for hints with such fulness and weight that i devote a separate chapter to his essay. in writing, he has specially had in view the difficulties of choir trainers in rural districts. all that a writer on the training of voices can do is to lay down general lines, and give comprehensive suggestions. the teacher, to make any use of them must be indeed a _teacher_, not a mere mechanically automatic individual of only sufficient calibre to take the directions of a writer, and give them again. he should be both enthusiastic in his work, and willing to spend his strength in patience if he would have a choir of boys to sing _reliably_ well. it is of the greatest importance that work should be set out on right lines, and that a thoughtfully prepared scheme should be arranged before commencing. i would here give my experience of two choirs i had at different times in agricultural districts, and in one of them i was well satisfied with the progress we made, while in the other my work was completely thrown away. the reason for the failure in the second instance (which i foresaw from the outset) will be gathered from the following account of our plan of campaign. the choir was a village one which met for rehearsal once a week. the organist attended and presided at a harmonium, and, _nolens volens_, i had at the beginning of each practice to take the choir through the whole of the next sunday's services. the boys' voices were, at the beginning of my connection, uncivilised, and at the end of it--fortunately the question of ways and means not allowing the interval to extend beyond a few months--were as barbarous as at the commencement. there was absolutely no chance of making a name through these youngsters; and as to voice culture! how could it be possible to attempt it after labouring through such a programme as canticles, hymns, psalms, kyrie, and amens? i determined never to take office again unless i could have my own way in fixing the time-table of work. my success in the other case was owing greatly to the fact that i had one night a week entirely devoted to musical training and voice culture. this did not preclude us from relieving the drudgery of work by the singing of songs and hymns, _but_ it allowed me the use of an unfettered judgment in the _choice_ of what should be attempted. a teacher is heavily handicapped if after getting his boys for the first time to sing in the upper thin register, he is to follow his delicate work by singing half-a-dozen verses to a tune which will in the very first verse undo all that he has done, simply because its melodic progression encourages forcing. experienced teachers will appreciate what i say on this point. take such a tune as:-- [illustration: &c. key e[b]. {|m:f |s:l |t:d |s:f || &c.] --a tune which inevitably causes a wrong use of the registers by inexperienced boys. the tunes selected should further the work of the exercises, not undo it, and with diligence the teacher can find suitable tunes and chants for this purpose. my advice to all teachers is that before commencing work they should insist upon conditions that do not preclude success, and that they should not spend their labour in wearying drudgery with the full consciousness that to attain it is impossible. one suggestion i would make is that the choirmaster, if he be not, as is often the case in villages, also schoolmaster, would do well to enlist the services of the school teachers in the village. it is not often practicable to have more than one--or two at the most--meetings of a choir during the week, and the length of the lesson must be, in consequence, at least an hour. for voice training in the earlier stages six lessons a week of fifteen minutes each are preferable to one of an hour and a half, and therefore i would urge the _necessity_ of getting hold of the sympathies of the school teacher, and putting him on right lines to work out the choirmaster's ideas, if the offices be not united. voice work should be begun in the infant school. at swanley it was my practice to give, i believe, daily lessons in the infant department, and the remarks made by visitors will bear out what i am about to say as to the possibility of getting young children to sing, and sing like little angels. i was always as pleased to exhibit my infants' vocal powers as to show those of my more advanced boys, and success was, comparatively speaking, more easily gained with them than with older boys, for inasmuch as the difficulty of registers and breaks does not exist as such with these tiny ones, and unless our plans be artificial or formed of caprice, this is what should be expected. in the infant school the teacher can take hold of the good that is innate, and mould it; in the higher school he has to spend hours and hours eradicating the bad habits which shouting and untamed license have allowed to grow. by all means begin with the infants, and let their songs and nursery rhymes be written so as to "give them a chance." but i am asked to say something that may be helpful to the choirmaster having to train the vocal organs of boys who are beyond infantile methods. i will therefore suppose myself for the first time before an ordinary country group of lads with all the vocal faults that now appear indigenous to the locality. i should first get them to find the upper thin register, and my plan is to confine the work to this region [illustration: musical notation] and get the boys to sing "koo" to d, e, or f, making my own "exercises," which are suggested by present circumstances:-- [illustration: koo koo koo koo koo koo koo koo koo koo key d[b]. d m m d m r d d r m koo koo koo koo koo koo koo koo koo koo key d. d r d l t d d t r d koo koo koo koo koo koo koo koo koo key e[b]. d r t d r d l s d koo koo koo koo koo koo koo koo koo koo key b[b]. s f m r d s m s s s] as at this stage the boys know nothing of the diatonic scale, i let them imitate. the exercises _may_ be played on a pianoforte, if the teacher cannot sing them, though in the latter case it is preferable that he should adopt the plan of selecting his best pupils for the models. i once had to commence with some uncultured boys, and knowing the difficulty of getting them to make a start, took with me a few of my own trained lads, who sang the exercises first, after which i added one or two of the beginners to them, and sympathetically they soon sang in the proper register with the others. by continuing the process of addition gradually i soon got the whole class to sing as i wished. at this first lesson the proper production of "oo" (vowel) should be obtained. i deal with the vowels as they arise, never observing a lack of clearness and purity without endeavouring to correct it. the foregoing exercises can next be used for teaching the intervals of the diatonic scale, for instance:-- [illustration: key f. {|d :--| s:--|| s:--| d :--||] calling the notes by their names, doh soh. here, again, the proper vowel production must be sought for, and obtained. the difficulties will be varied in this respect with the locality. often i have met with doh-_oo_. this, as well as ray-_ee_, and other faults that need not be specified, can be corrected at once. the beautiful intonation we had at swanley i attribute in a large measure to the care bestowed on the production of vowel sounds. there must be no division of opinion among the singers as to how any particular vowel sound should be emitted. if there be not unity in this respect the intonation suffers. the earlier exercises should be sung in unison, a correct division into st, nd, and rd trebles being impossible until the boys have acquired sufficient confidence to show _what_ they are naturally. i have for a long time used with advantage the single chant form for exercises, making them myself. [illustration: key f. {|d :-|l:t |d :-||d :-|t: |s:t |d :-||] in order to avoid waste of time in learning exercises they should be _short_, so that they can be caught up at once. to get boys to sing in the register below (the lower thin) is the next step, the exercises now being confined between [illustration: musical notation] and formed in the same way as those in the higher region. the difficulty is greater in getting rough boys to use this part of the vocal score correctly. the best way i have found to get them to discover it, is to sing [illustration: key f. s f m r d]--beginning at c , to koo. the notes are at first weak, and there is a tendency to "squork," if i may so term it. these exercises must be sung softly at first, and at this stage the schoolmaster can render valuable help if he will get his boys to read from their lesson books in this register instead of in the one below it. i have to acknowledge a debt of gratitude to one of our best and most painstaking teachers for giving me this hint. the reading will at first be weak, and in a monotone, and there being no flexibility, the boys will have difficulty in forming the usual cadence at the end of sentences, but practice will soon strengthen the weakness, and make this register as strong as the one below it. between the one above and the one below, this "middle" one is apt to be overlooked altogether, and i have heard some fairly pleasing singing where it has not been recognised at all. the third register (upper thick) should now receive attention, and in order to find it the pupils should cultivate it upwards with such exercises as-- [illustration: &c. key a[b]. d_ r_ d_ d_ r_ m_ &c. koo koo koo koo koo koo] within the limits of a short paper, it is impossible to give more fully all the needful directions for training the voices to cover up breaks, and to change from one register to another. suitable tunes should now be selected, so that the aim of the exercises may be extended. remember that it is easiest to _leap_ from one register to a higher, a stepwise ascent being an insidious snare. koo and afterwards laa such tunes as:-- [illustration: key c. {| s:m |d :s |m :-.r |d :s |l:l |s:d |s:f |m:-|| key e[b]. {|m:r |f:m |r:-|m:-||l:s |t:d |s:-|f:-|| {|m:r |f:m |r:-|l:-||d :s |m:r |d:-|-:-||] many ready-made exercises are to be found in any chant book, which can be used to strengthen the voice and build it. for voice exercise i like a high reciting note at the beginning, d , c , e[b] , as by this we ensure getting the right register for the high notes, which will be a matter of doubt for some time if the question of suitability of melody be left out of calculation. i strongly recommend the use of the time names. for some years i was prejudiced against them, but after trying them, believe them to be of the greatest value. the teacher should give manual signs for his short exercises. time is wasted unnecessarily if the teacher has to turn and write on the board. the objection to working through a book, only using prescribed exercises, is chiefly this--no book writer can provide for all the permutations and combinations that may arise during the actual work of teaching; it is impossible for him to anticipate them. this does not in the least detract from the value of the book, which must be the best _general_ guide for by far the larger part of our teachers. i have referred to the teaching of vowel sounds, and would say a word about consonants. my practice has been to guard against giving undue prominence to any individual letter, and to encourage always a _simple unaffected utterance_ in singing. rolling "r's" is very well, but to precede the vowel with a sound not unlike the noise caused by springing a police rattle is neither artistic nor pleasing. my custom was to first let the pupils sing a vowel, say _aa_, and require it to be held on as long as my hand was still. a sharp movement of the hand directed when the consonant should appear, as _aa--t_, &c., the appearance and disappearance being as close together as possible. it is a difficulty with beginners to sing such words as "night," "bright," &c., holding on the middle part, or vowel. i demonstrated that the singer has nothing left to sing after having too soon disposed of the vowel. i also gave exercises in prefixing a consonant to a vowel. other points of detail will arise, such as in the word "sing." the habit here is to make the "ng" sound throughout the greater part of the durance of the singing of the word. by analysing, and showing by copying the bad model, the teacher will convince the pupil that "ng" held on is unpleasant. in singing laa, laa, laa, &c., at first pupils lower and raise the jaw. this should be at once stopped. but it is impossible to anticipate every difficulty that will arise under this head. i have said enough to indicate generally my method. i do not propose to enter into the question of breathing. one thing i would say--do not try pupils by requiring them to sing long notes at first, but do get them at the beginning to "phrase" to your pattern. this will from the first get the will to control the breath taking. by all means introduce certificates. by the examination of individuals, the teacher will get truer knowledge of his learners' powers, and will be enabled to give advice of greater value because of its assured need. let the examination be in public--before the other pupils--and so help to beget confidence in the pupil, without which success will be limited. the teacher should never do anything to destroy the confidence of his pupils, though i am bound to admit that i have not always been free from irritability and impatience in my dealings with pupils. the work is trying, the nerves of a teacher of singing are throughout highly strung, and very little cause is necessary to upset his equilibrium. he should therefore be ever on his guard to check any tendency to show impatience. never get a pupil to sing alone for the sake of showing his defects to others. no one can _sing_ who does not possess a sense of his power to do so. there should be encouraged an _abandon_ sort of manner. a gentleman once said to me, "i see how you make your boys sing; you tell them they can do it, and that makes them do it." the rigid watching of the beat of the conductor should not be too closely insisted on. no machine-like singing should satisfy, even though it be _correct_. the correctness of a great painter's production is not everything, and neither is it with the singer. there should an atmosphere of the liberty of freedom. at swanley my work was lessened by the interest that all my colleagues took in it. a moral force was constantly brought to bear on the boys, which made them work with a will and a determination to excel. their success was the same in other departments of work, though not so prominently placed. the music teacher who has in himself the power to draw out the latent feeling of his pupils is the one who will best succeed. i would draw my remarks to a close with this advice:--make your choir as large as possible. take all who will come into it, and do not go through the form of "trying" voices that have never tried themselves, and of which you can form no opinion. for adults this is a necessity, but for children it is better to get one or two per cent. of naturally defective learners, rather than to turn away all but those showing undoubtedly exceptional ability. chapter x. the special difficulties of agricultural districts. my object is to help those whose difficulties are greatest; who, so far from being able to pick out boys of musical talent and fine voice, are obliged to accept the material that offers, often of the poorest musical description. the country boy is a more healthy animal than his brother of the town, and there is no fault to be found with the natural volume of his voice provided he can be taught to place his registers rightly, to avoid straining the thick or chest register, to pronounce and phrase properly. this is, however, what the americans call "a large order." i have been fortunate in collecting information from several choirmasters in agricultural districts, who have conquered the difficulties of this task. first, i quote mr. w. critchley, choirmaster and schoolmaster at hurst, near reading:-- "the rural choir-boy differs somewhat from his brethren of the town in the following particulars. as a rule, he is duller, and slower in his perception; he is attentive and docile, but sluggish; he retains what he is taught, and therefore, as far as mere knowledge and memory are concerned, it 'pays' to take him in hand. his voice is strong, but rough, and this undisciplined strength is the cause of most of the trouble he gives. moreover, he is exposed to the weather very largely, and this causes him to be more influenced by atmospheric changes than the town boy, and prevents, in a great measure, any great delicacy of finish from being obtained. so it will be seen that the country choir-boy requires special treatment in order to produce good results. sometimes, when a village lies compactly together, a large amount of work can be got through similar to that which we find in towns, but generally the rural district is wide and scattered, and only a limited number of practices can be secured. under these circumstances, i have found the best course to pursue to be somewhat as follows:--first and foremost, let the tonic sol-fa system be taught, it lightens the work of the choirmaster in a wonderful degree, and the boys bring an intelligence to their work which is unattainable by any other means. if the system has not been taught in the day school of the parish, it should be introduced at once; if that is not practicable, the choir-boys should be taught at a second practice-night. this second practice is required in any case, if anything better than mere 'scratch' singing be aimed at. _all_ practices should be begun by voice exercises. on the extra night a greater amount of time should be taken up with them, for to a country choir-boy, who perhaps in the day is shouting to scare birds, they are vital. the lower register of a country boy is, as a rule, coarse, so it is important to get him to use his higher register as soon as possible. show him first of all that he has, as it were, _two voices_, and point out that he is required, as mr. evans observes, to use that voice which is most like a girl's. he will be apt for some time to use this voice in the upper notes of the music only, and there will be a disagreeable transition to the lower register when the music comes down on g, or thereabouts. to conquer this, i use exercises which train the upper register _downwards_, such as:-- [illustration: keys a to f. d m s m d r [(.d] [(.t]_ [(.l]_ ] the object being to strengthen the upper register, and, except where the music touches d or c, [illustration: musical notation] to practically 'shelve' the lower thick register in the case of treble voices. in training upwards i insist on easy singing, no straining. i don't mean apathetic singing, for this is especially to be fought against in the case of country boys, as there is naturally a want of 'go' about them. i mean soft singing, but energetic. i tell the boys to sing like birds, and they generally understand from this that they are to use the upper register. i do not find much difficulty with them in the way of flattening. except in the case of the younger boys, i often hear them a little sharp. the tonic sol-fa method trains their _ears_, and i get them to listen, and blend their voices; above all, to get rid of apathy. and if there should be a tendency with the younger boys to sing flat, i generally find that the application of the old rules as to position, loud singing, forcing the voice, faulty breathing, and inattention will remedy the fault. if it occurs in church, a judicious use of a four-foot stop on the organ often keeps up the pitch. i find, if the melody of a chant or tune has a great many of the 'thirds' of the chords in it (i mean as distinct from the fifth, root, &c.) it is often difficult, especially on a foggy morning, to keep it in tune, _e.g_.:-- [illustration: key g. {| [(.m] |m:r |m:--|| [(.m] |r:d |r:r |m:--|| or, key g. {| [(.m] |f:m |re:--|| [(.m] |r:d |t_ :r |d:--|| or, key f. {| [(.m] |f:l |s:--|| [(.s] |d :m |r:f |m:--||] this is the case in a marked degree when the reciting tone comes about the natural 'break' of the voice. the remedy for this i find to be transition into another key, one which i judge to be more congenial to the state of the boys' voices. here is where the usefulness of the tonic sol-fa system to an organist comes in. a lot of practice in mental effects has a surprising result in ear training. sometimes, however, we get a clergyman who intones badly, and then it is quite a struggle to keep in tune. "there are a number of other little points which tell against correct singing in a country choir; the generally thick enunciation, the provincialism, the difficulty in getting open mouths. i do a lot of reading by pattern, and pay attention to initial and final consonants. country boys neglect these more than town boys. i practise without organ as much as i can. if an instrument is used, the piano is decidedly the best. i find gregorian singing has a strong tendency to injure purity of tone and delicacy of expression. i do as little of it as possible. "on the second choir practice night i spoke of, it is certainly good to take up glee practice, or a simple cantata. it sustains the interest, and makes the choir a bond of union in a country village." * * * * * not long ago i found myself by chance worshipping in a remote village in east somerset, churchill by name. there was, in the parish church, a choir of six boys and four probationers, who sang so slowly and sweetly, not with the luscious fulness of some boys i have heard, but with such uncommonly good style for agricultural boys, that i was much interested. these small villages have, from the present point of view, one advantage. the day schools are "mixed" (containing boys and girls), and the teacher is a lady. both these influences tend to the softening of the boy's voice. miss demack, the school-and choir-mistress at churchill, has kindly written a few notes on the subject of her work, in which she says:-- "i certainly think that the girls' voices soften the boys'. i admit probationers at the early age of six if i find they have any voice, as i think the earlier the better. when i took my boys in hand, i found scale exercises very useful. i did not teach them any tunes until i had somewhat altered their rough voices. another help was this: i had a girl with a particularly good voice, and made the boys imitate her as much as possible. this i found answered remarkably well. the boys seemed to adopt quite a different tone." miss demack teaches singing in the school and choir by ear only, and knows nothing of the tonic sol-fa system. * * * * * i next give a short paper kindly sent me by mr. george parbery, choirmaster of the parish church, and master of the national school at fordingbridge, hants:-- "dear sir,--as choirmaster of the parish church here, and as one who takes great interest in the subject of singing in schools, i am happy to respond to your request, as we are essentially a rural district. "i have occupied my position now nearly ten years, and am just beginning to find the benefit of the tonic sol-fa movement amongst my adult members of the choir, having now nine adults who have passed through the school with a good practical knowledge of the sol-fa notation. "when i commenced work here (coming from north of england) i was struck with the very disagreeable tone of the boys' and girls' voices. to say they sang flat does not convey how flat they sang, nor does it convey any idea of the tone, but the same may be heard any night at the salvation army meetings here. the vicar of the parish told me also upon my arrival here, that at a church in bournemouth a former vicar used to import all his boy voices outside of hampshire. so that you will gather that i had not a light task before me to produce a tone satisfactory to myself or the inspector. but i may safely say i have for some years satisfied myself, and last year our assistant-inspector spoke of the very beautiful quality of the boys' voices. i can assure you that it is only rarely that i find occasion to complain of the tone. the moment i hear the objectionable tone produced, i immediately stop the singing, even if in the middle of prayers. mine is a boys' school, but i teach the girls singing with the boys. now as to how i produced the change:-- " . i introduced the tonic sol-fa notation. " . i used to practise very frequently for a few minutes upon the modulator, making abundant use of the upper-- [illustration: key c. d r m f ] " . i prohibited all shouting on high notes. " . particularly was i severe upon loud singing in lower notes, say, [illustration: key f. r d t_ l_ s_ ] " . i established a degree of sound, and have it still, what is known amongst my scholars as 'singing in a whisper'--_i.e._, to produce singing as softly as possible. this idea i picked up in cheshire from a good tonic sol-faist. " . i have one or two favourite hymns, which i always pitch higher than written, and thus compel the boys to use the upper registers. the boys know i like these hymns, and i never fail to appreciate them to the boys at the end of singing. i also have a favourite marching tune--i don't know the name, but i believe it is often set to the hymn, 'when mothers of salem.' this tune is very lofty, and i believe the boys really enjoy its loftiness, _but there must be no shouting_. when the boys displease me, i tell them they drop their jaw too much, and they instantly know what i mean. " . i have very little alto singing in school, for the reason that it has a tendency to encourage loudness. in my choir i arrange for three or four of the oldest boys to sing alto. "in conclusion, i may say i am thoroughly proud of my boys' singing from standard i. up to the top of the school, and i believe my success has been chiefly from abundant use of the modulator for scale practice, and never allowing loud singing. proud as i am of my boys, the girls certainly excel them, and ten years ago their tone was worse, if possible, than the boys. i have no instrument in school, but _occasionally_ use a violin." * * * * * a correspondent from another agricultural county--i will not give his name--favours me with some rules which he has used more or less for thirty years. in one school taught by the writer, the inspector said he could not distinguish the boys from the girls' voices--truly a high compliment. my correspondent names a new hindrance to church music in rural places, namely, the clergyman's daughter!-- "practise the scales up and down to the words 'la' and 'ha,' the latter for the purpose of separating the teeth. commence at the key of c to c , then from d to d , and so on upwards as high as the voices of the boys can reach, never resting satisfied until they cover two octaves firmly. in teaching new music, and, generally speaking, in accompanying the boys, play the note they are singing and its octave above--on the stopped diapason and flute if an organ, or the corresponding stops on a harmonium. let there be no other accompaniment, and on every occasion the octave above the note sung. this is very particular. check one voice singing above another. have no leaders. stop or subdue all harsh voices, and make them listen to, and try to copy the pure notes of the flute; let the boys sing well within their strength. if you lack power, increase the number of choristers, and subdue the voices. i always choose smooth flowing chants, with the reciting note ranging from f to c. i do not care to go higher than g above the line in anthems or services, but have trained them to start on b[b], 'the sisters of the sea,' by jackson. "i never trouble about altos, they are too difficult to get, and indifferent and troublesome when obtained, but in verse parts of services or anthems, one of the best boys will supply the deficiency, and even take up the lead in a chorus. "choirs experience a difficulty which is not included in your list of points. i have received £ per annum as an organist, £ and a house. on another occasion i was offered the choir-mastership of a church choral society of members. at this time i was trainer and conductor of a choral society of voices with string and wind accompaniment, the subject being _the messiah_. yet i was not considered competent at the church at which i played to put a tune to a hymn, but had to submit to the parson's daughter, who was qualified through taking three months' lessons from a german. on one occasion this lady went ten times through a hymn to please her father in trying to fit a four-lined tune of the wrong metre to a six-lined hymn! i offered to go through an eleventh time, but he never interfered again. i could give you many instances where these ladies themselves are the great drawback of good church singing, but on the other hand, i could mention cases where they never come near a practice, or interfere from one year's end to the other." * * * * * knowing, as i do, the devoted way in which clergymen's daughters in many rural places train the choir, i hesitate to endorse this charge. the work needs to be done with tact and consideration. in the vast majority of cases these ladies are a great help. i do not approve the plan of playing the melody in octaves while it is being learnt, which my correspondent advocates. i give his letter as a record of earnest work. * * * * * mr. w. w. pearson, of elmham, dereham, norfolk, writes to me as follows:-- "i have had, as you say, a great deal of experience in teaching singing, especially in rural districts; but the neighbourhood i have lived in for the last twenty years (norfolk), is a very barren field for musical culture--the worst in my experience. the voices of those who _do_ sing in this county are, on an average, a minor third lower than those of yorkshire, north wales, the west of england, and other places where i have had experience. they are also, for the most part, _flabby_, wanting in resonance and quality. tenors are very scarce, and even the few who can sing in the tenor register, have not got the true tenor quality. this may be the effect of the low elevation above the sea-level, and the damp humid atmosphere; or it may be partly due to _race_. "the plan i adopt for getting boys to use their upper registers is a very old-fashioned one; but it is very effective. it is to make them sing the major diatonic scale, ascending and descending; beginning at a low pitch, and gradually raising it by a semitone at a time." * * * * * mr. c. hibberd, of bemerton, near salisbury, whom i quote also in the chapter on "flattening," dwells on the difficulties of the rural choirmaster. he says:-- "i have rarely come across the soft fluty tone in the country. i once met with a boy with it in the choir at parkstone, near bournemouth, and another here at bemerton, but in both cases the boys were above the average of country boys, and the village was close to a larger town. in both cases, also, the boys had good and careful practice over and above the ordinary choir practices. at places farther in the country it seems an impossibility to get the tone. with only a few boys to pick from, it is a difficulty to find boys enough to fill up ordinary vacancies. with a great deal of trouble and practice one can get a great part of the roughness toned down, and, as a rule, that is all." * * * * * several of my correspondents, it will be noticed, speak with great confidence of the use of the tonic sol-fa system in rural places. this system, useful everywhere, certainly attains its greatest usefulness in places where the task of the choirmaster reaches its highest degree of difficulty. to those whose only acquaintance with tonic sol-fa is a casual glance at a printed page of the new notation, it naturally seems strange that the use of a musical shorthand can affect the whole training of the boy. but behind the letters and punctuation marks, which go to make up the tonic sol-fa notation, there lies the tonic sol-fa method--a fixed and many-sided educational system, founded on the truest principles of education, carrying on simultaneously the training of the ear for tune and time, making progress sure because gradually developing the intelligence along with the voice. with tonic sol-fa, also, is associated a definite system of voice-training. tonic sol-fa teachers are all more or less of educationists, and have caught by observation or study the teacher's art. this is the cause of their success. [illustration: decoration] chapter xi. notes on the practice of various choirmasters in cathedrals, &c. i summarise here information obtained, chiefly by observation and conversation, from various trainers of boys' voices at cathedrals and collegiate churches. chapel royal, st. james's. some years ago i attended a practice of the boys, under the late rev. thomas helmore. it began with slow scales sung to a light pianoforte accompaniment. these were followed by rapid runs, the key gradually rising until the highest note touched was c above the treble staff. the vocable used was "ah." after this came time exercises, solfeggios, the pointing out of notes by the boys on and between the fingers of their left hands, which represented the staff. mr. helmore declared that new boys while singing nearly always ( ) frown, or ( ) hold their heads on one side. he was strict about avoiding these faults. in going over the psalms for the day, the boys sang mostly one by one, verse after verse. this was a searching test for the boy who sang, while all the others were actively criticising. the boys practised secular music by way of change. four of them were monitors, four fags, and two probationers. the tone was refined and pure, mr. helmore himself being a good singer. st. paul's cathedral. here, owing to the size of the building, a tremendous volume of shrill tone has to be cultivated, which in the practice room is sometimes overwhelming. the practice i heard began with slow scales sung to "ah" (pianoforte accompaniment) ranging over two octaves, c to c ; each key between c to c was taken, and the scale sung ascending and descending. this was loud singing, but not shouting. then came agility exercises in the form of chords, rapid scales, &c., sung still to "ah." this daily "tuning-up" lasted ten minutes. then (incidentally affording rest to the boys) came a short lesson on theory. boys were called up in turn to write notes, signs, &c., on the blackboard. practice now began. the boys sing a new piece to words at once, never sol-faing. they seldom try a piece more than three times before it is heard at the cathedral. they sit during rehearsal, standing at the gloria patri. the boys have a daily practice of an hour-and-a-half. westminster abbey. the refined style of the boys trained by dr. bridge is well known. the abbey is small enough to allow the graces of singing to be cultivated. in the music room there are two rows of desks facing the same way, so that dr. bridge, sitting at his cottage piano, can cast a side glance full upon the boys. two practices are held daily; one from nine till ten a.m. is spent in getting up the service music. the afternoon practice, at the close of evensong, is chiefly devoted to theory. a card hanging up on the wall shows exactly how the time of the afternoon practice is apportioned between the study of intervals, and scales, chanting, responses, manuscript exercises, the singing of concone's solfeggios, and the practice of secular music. the excellent phrasing and pure tone are partly due to the practice of secular music, which gives elasticity and gentleness to the boys' voices. no formal system of voice-training is in use. the boys enter at from to - / , not older. a new boy is placed in the middle of the row of choristers, so as to excite his imitative faculty to the utmost. twenty boys is the full number, but only twelve of these are full choristers, the others being nominally on probation, a plan which serves to keep up the discipline. lincoln's inn chapel. there are twelve boys here. they come, with a fair knowledge of music, at about nine years of age, and receive from dr. steggall, or his assistants, three lessons of about two hours each every week. on sunday, at the close of the morning service, there is a rehearsal with the men of the music for the afternoon, and for the morning of the following sunday. the boys' practices are held in the choir-room, where dr. steggall, seated at a venerable broadwood grand, coaches his little men, with care and neatness. on saturdays, when half their lesson is done, the boys walk across to the chapel, and go through the sunday's music with the organ. a pupil mounts to the instrument, while dr. steggall, book in hand, paces the aisle, or retires towards the communion table, constantly interrupting the singing to correct faults, or improve delivery. meanwhile, the organ is played quite softly, that the voices may stand out clearly. constant care is taken to prevent clipping of words in the most familiar parts of the service. the temple church. dr. e. j. hopkins, himself an ex-choir-boy of the chapel royal, realises here his ideal of "quality, not quantity." he lays stress on the fact that he takes his boys at eight years of age. for a year or more, however, they are probationers. they do not wear surplices, although they sit close to the choir. they undergo daily drill in musical theory and voice-training, but in church they have no responsibility, and do little more than listen. when, however, the voice of one of the elder boys breaks, a probationer takes his place, and is much better for the training. the practices occupy an hour-and-a-half every afternoon. they are held in the little choir vestry, near the organ, where there is a cottage pianoforte, flanked by a couple of long music desks, at which the boys stand as they sing. they are taught in groups, according to the stage they have reached, and spend the lesson time in practising scales, voice exercises, pieces of music, and studying notation. the voices are practised up to a. on saturdays there is a rehearsal in the church, with the organ and the men of the choir. lincoln cathedral. the choir here, directed by the venerable organist, mr. j. w. m. young, is noted for its chanting, which all choirmasters ought to hear. mr. young has made a special study of the psalms, and changes speed and force frequently with the change of attitude in the psalmist. the recitation is delivered at the pace of ordinary speech, with elocutionary pauses as needed; it is sung neither faster nor slower than the cadence. hence the whole effect is reverent and impressive. mr. young's published psalter and chants (novello) should be studied, but the great excellence of his work can only be appreciated by a visit to lincoln. all compilers of psalters make rules, but mr. young carries them out. mr. young, who was a choir-boy at durham more than fifty years ago, under henshaw, tells me that it was no uncommon thing in his day for the boys to have three practices-- . to , to , and to . this in addition to the two daily services. the elder boys had to attend all; the younger were excused the evening practice. as far as i know, we have no such severe training now. mr. young likes to get his boys at eight; for two years, although they wear surplices, they do not sing. the sixteen boys receive free education, and board, pocket-money, and a present of £ when their voices break. the younger boys are called "choristers," and wear surplices. the four senior boys are called "burgersh-chanters," and wear black cassocks of a peculiar shape. in the town they are familiarly known as "black boys." the choristers attend a day-school with other boys who speak the lincolnshire dialect; in this they suffer, for, as mr. young says, purity of vowels and beauty of tone go together. one of his maxims is, "use the lips as little as possible in singing; do all you can with the tongue. if you use the lips, then use them rapidly." the boys practise an hour-and-a-half each day. mr. young puts a high finish on all his work. mozart's "ave verum" was sung on the day of my visit with infinite refinement. at one point the boys took a portamento--a grace which very few choirmasters would attempt with boys. [illustration: a "black boy" at lincoln cathedral. _photographed by mr. george hadley, lincoln._] christ church, oxford. the boys rehearse in a small but lofty room. there is a double row of desks and seats down each side, facing each other. dr. c. h. lloyd sits at a small pianoforte, placed across one end of the seats, thus commanding all the boys with his eye. the "tuning-up" exercises lasted ten minutes, and began with this exercise to "ah":-- [illustration: key c. {|d :t.l|s.f:m.r|d:r.m|f.s:l.t|d :-|-:-||] this exercise, begun in c, was carried up gradually to b[b] above. it was sung first with a _dim._ going down, and a _cres._ going up, and then the opposite. then came an ascending, followed by a descending scale, similarly varied in key and expression. the next exercise was-- [illustration: key c. {|d.m:r.m |d.m:r.m |d.m:r.m |d:--||] which was transposed gradually upwards, being sung to "ah." next a triplet exercise-- [illustration: key f. d t_ d r d r to d r d t d t] at the higher part the second trebles sang a third below. then followed the chromatic scale, up and down. dr. lloyd is not troubled much with flattening; when it occurs the men are more likely to cause it than the boys. they habitually sing the litany, which lasts fifteen minutes, unaccompanied, and if they flatten at all, it is not more than a semitone. there is an unaccompanied service once a week. i noticed that breathing-places were marked in the anthems, and notes likely to give trouble were marked with a circle. dr. lloyd was by no means tied to the pianoforte during rehearsal, and frequently left his seat, and paced up and down, beating time while the singing went on. theoretical questions on the pieces in hand were addressed to individual boys. these boys are the sons of professional men, and come from all parts of the country. there are now three undergraduates at christ church, who have been choir-boys. in the choir, on the day of my visit, was a boy of seventeen, who had sung for nine years; his voice had not yet begun to go. the curious custom is observed here of dividing the psalms (between decani and cantoris) at the colon, instead of at the verse. it requires great readiness, and for those psalms which are written in parallelisms, it is most effective. canterbury cathedral. the boys here are divided into ten choristers and fourteen probationers. the choristers are on the foundation, and receive a stipend; the probationers get their schooling only. the choristers wear trencher caps and gowns; the probationers flannel caps, bearing the arms of the cathedral. the boys are nearly all from the city; there is no boarding-school. the lower floor of the choir-school is used for the ordinary instruction, which is conducted by mr. plant, an alto in the cathedral choir, and the upper floor is used as a music-room. here the boys receive four or five lessons a week from dr. longhurst, and the probationers have also a lesson by themselves. all the choristers learn the violin; this has been the practice for many years. when, at festivals, there is a band in the cathedral, the strings are made up largely from old choristers, most of whom go into business in the city. a system of rotation is adopted; thus, although there are twenty-four boys, not more than fourteen sing at any one service, the rest are at work at their ordinary lessons. a considerable drainage of boys takes place to the king's school, the leading grammar school in canterbury. the choristers often leave to enter this school when their voices are in their prime. dr. longhurst takes the boys very young; as soon after seven as possible. in choosing a boy, he requires both voice and ear to be good. sometimes a boy excels in the one direction and not in the other; he can sing sweetly, but cannot imitate notes struck at random on the pianoforte, or else he has a poor voice and a good ear. but both endowments are necessary for a chorister. dr. longhurst, who was himself a boy at canterbury, had a compass at that time of two-and-a-half octaves. as his voice changed he passed from first to second treble, then sang alto for seven years, and at last settled to tenor. he does not regard boy altos as desirable in cathedrals, but in parish churches, where no adult male altos are to be had, they are, no doubt, in place. dr. longhurst tells me that as a result of forty-eight years' experience, he can tell by the look of a boy whether he will make a chorister. there is something about the brows and eyes, and general contour of the face which guides him. he is never mistaken. some time since a clergyman with whom dr. longhurst happened to be staying, ridiculed the idea that the musical capability of boys can be judged by their looks. he took dr. longhurst into the village school, and invited him to pick out the boys of the choir as they sat among others at their lessons. this dr. longhurst did quite correctly. he has no knowledge of phrenology, and the faculty has come to him simply as the result of long experience. on the day of my visit i heard the boys practise in their lofty music-room. dr. longhurst sat at the grand pianoforte, and the boys were grouped in fours or fives round four music-stands, on which the large folio voice parts, in type or ms., were placed. these desks stood on either side of the piano, so that the boys looked towards dr. longhurst. not many voice exercises are used, nor is there any talk about the registers. pure tone is required, and the boys have not "to reason why." six or seven of the youngest boys took no part in the practice of the service music. when the elder boys had done, the younger came forward and sang some solfeggio exercises. as a help in keeping time the boys clapped their hands sometimes at the first of the bar, and beat the pulses of the music. in the single voice parts, with long rests, this is a help. the boys do not sing any secular music. at one time they did, but now, with the schooling, the ordinary practices, and the violin lessons, there is no time. flattening does not often occur. as a rule, when they intone on g, the g remains to the end. the practice of singing the service unaccompanied on fridays all the year round, and on wednesdays in addition during lent, must have a bracing effect on the choir. i was myself present on a wednesday in lent, and could detect no falling in pitch. the boys at canterbury do not appear to receive much formal voice-training, and i attribute the excellent quality of their singing to two facts. first, dr. longhurst has evidently a knack of discerning a promising voice; and second, having established a tradition of good singing, the boys, entering at an early age, insensibly fall into it. dr. buck's boys at norwich. i have gathered from mr. a. r. gaul, mus.b., of birmingham, some particulars of the work of dr. buck, organist of norwich cathedral, who was known forty or fifty years ago all over the country as a trainer of boys' voices. mr. gaul was a boy at norwich under dr. buck, and underwent the spartan training which produced such notable results. "no chest voice above f or g" was his rule, and the flute-like voice, which goes by so many names, and is yet so unmistakable when heard, was developed in all the choristers. dr. buck had an endless number of contrivances for teaching his boys right ways. each of them carried about him a pocket looking-glass, and at practice was taught to hold it in his hand, and watch his mouth as he sang. one finger on top of the other was the gauge for opening the mouth transversely, while nuts were held in the cheeks to secure its proper longitudinal opening. to look at the boys during this exercise, one might think they had the face-ache! however, no joking over these matters was allowed; there was a penny fine for forgetting the looking-glass once, and a twopenny fine for forgetting it a second time. to prevent the use of too much breath in singing, dr. buck would take a piece of tissue paper, the size of a postage stamp, hang it by a fine thread in front of the mouth, and make the boys sing to it without blowing it away. tongue-drill consisted in regular motions of the unruly member, until the boys were able to make it lie flat down at the bottom of the mouth, and raise it to the upper teeth as required. it was a daily plan to practise certain passages with the lips entirely closed, this was done to prevent the objectionable quality of voice resulting from any stoppage of the nasal organs. there was no sol-faing; various words were used at scale-practice, chosen to develop the vowels, while a code of troublesome words and endings of words was drawn up, and repeated daily by the boys in the speaking-voice, so as to secure clear enunciation. i have more than once seen and heard it stated that dr. buck used to make his boys sing through the nose, with closed mouth, in order to get the higher register, but mr. gaul does not remember this. dr. haydn keeton informs me that they had boy-altos at norwich in dr. buck's time, so that he must have had more boys than usual to train. salisbury. a conversation with mr. c. l. south, the organist and choirmaster, shows him to be a careful and able worker. the boys, who are boarded in the choir school, come from various parts. they are received at from to years; not over unless the boy is very good and forward in music. the boys are chosen for their voices, but given two boys of equal voices, the one who knows most music would be selected. the music practice is an hour a day for five days of the week, under mr. south himself. "i recognise," he says, "two registers in boys' voices, chest and head, and with careful practice you can get the voices so even that you can hardly tell where one ends and the other begins. the great thing, i believe, is to make the boys sing softly, and to get their register even throughout." mr. south adds that the imitative power of boys is so strong that the younger ones fall into the habits of the elder ones, and thus make formal teaching about the registers less necessary. for vocal practice he uses stainer's and concone's exercises, also solos like "jesus, saviour, i am thine," and "let the saviour's outstretched arm" (both from bach's _passion_), as well as handel's "rejoice greatly," besides florid choruses from the _messiah_. these are more interesting than formal studies, and they bring out the same points of breathing, phrasing, pronunciation, and expression. he sometimes introduces a song of this kind into the service as an anthem. on one occasion, when thirteen boys had sung one of the bach songs in unison, a member of the congregation asked the name of the soloist. the voices were so perfectly blended that they sounded like one. the full number of boys is eighteen, of whom two at least sing solos. mr. south does not use nor like boy altos. the service music is selected on eclectic principles, and covers the ground from gibbons to villiers stanford. the boys sometimes give concerts, performing such cantatas as smart's _king rene's daughter_, and mendelssohn's "two-part songs." [illustration: decoration] chapter xii. notes on the practice of various choirmasters in parish churches. in the course of journeys and interviews extending over many years i have gathered much experience from choirmasters, and have watched and noted their plans. here follow some of the results of this work. the churches described are some of them small, and but little known. this fact, however, does not affect the value of the experience. the highest degree of credit is due to the choirmaster who obtains good results from poor materials, and this book is especially intended to help those who have to make the best of ordinary opportunities. leeds parish church. this church has long been noted for its music, which is sung in cathedral style. there are about thirty boys, whose voices, even up to a, are round and clear, and throughout are big, true, and rich. notable features of the style of the choir under dr. creser, are the long _dim_. cadences in responses, and the independence which enables the singers to go on without the organ, if the expression suggests it. at the rehearsal in the parochial room dr. creser sits at the grand piano with the boys in their cantoris and decani places on each side of him just as in church. the boys rehearse five days a week after evensong, and the juniors have an additional practice. after saturday evensong there is a full practice with the men. all the boys are trebles. yorkshire is about the only district in england which produces adult male altos. the boys are chiefly promoted from district churches. they live at their homes, and receive a free education--the seniors in the leeds middle-class school, and the juniors in the parish church school. there is also a small salary paid quarterly, and when a boy leaves he receives from £ to £ if an ordinary chorister, and £ if a good solo boy. fines are imposed by the precentor for misbehaviour or mischievous tricks in church or precincts, but not for mistakes in singing. dr. creser teaches sight-singing on the lines of curwen's "how to read music." the boys use the old notation, but have learnt it through tonic sol-fa, using the course entitled "crotchets and quavers." occasionally the whole rehearsal consists of sol-faing. in every difficulty as to key relationship the sol-fa makes matters clear. dr. creser was first led to use tonic sol-fa by noticing how easy it made the minor mode. the junior boys are always taught by dr. creser. until the voices settle he would on no account delegate them to an assistant. the two chief rules of voice-training are to forbid forcing the chest register above [illustration: a music staff with a treble clef and a whole note "e" on the first line.] and to begin scales at the top. flattening takes place occasionally, but it is nearly always the fault of the congregation, who drag the pitch down. the arrangement of the music-library here is a model of order. st. peter's, eaton square, london. here, under the direction of mr. de manby sergison, a very fine anglican service is maintained. there are twenty boys, and a few probationers. the boys have an hour's practice every day, and sing the psalms and a hymn at the daily choral service. formerly a choir boarding-school was kept up, but this was abolished, being found to be too expensive. now the boys are selected from schools in and near the parish, and mr. sergison finds the ordinary london boy equal to all the demands of the church. when the choir-school was given up he was able within a month to prepare an entirely new set of boys, so proficient that the congregation scarcely noticed a difference. the vocal practice of the boys includes "concone's exercises," and their phrasing in the service music is very good. the full choir sings on sundays and saints' days, and their rehearsal takes place once a week in the church, mr. sergison being at the organ. in the chapter on the management of choir-boys i have quoted some wise remarks by mr. sergison, which explain his success as a choirmaster. st. mark's college, chelsea. this is a training college for schoolmasters, which has long been noted for its musical services. mr. owen breden, the present organist and choirmaster, is the successor of dr. hullah, mr. may, and the rev. f. helmore. the choir-boys, who number , only sing on sundays. they are drawn from the practicing school, which contains boys. they enter the choir at nine years of age, and there are always six or eight probationers, who attend the practices and are ready to fill vacancies. thus a good style of singing is maintained. people say to mr. breden, "there is no telling one voice from another, your boys are so much alike." at the bi-weekly practice with mr. breden the boys have voice-training. they sing to _la_ and sol-fa syllables scales gradually rising. they are not trained above g, but if a boy has a good g he can always go higher. the boys can all read from the sol-fa modulator, and mr. breden gives them ear-tests. the alto part is taken entirely by boys at st. mark's. the choir-boys, past and present, perform an operetta in costume every christmas. anthems like macfarren's "the lord is my shepherd," bennett's "god is a spirit," goss's "o saviour of the world," &c., are sung unaccompanied. in fact, whenever the organ part merely duplicates the voices, they take the opportunity at st. mark's to enjoy the pure chording of human voices. st. mary's church, berlin. my friend, herr th. krause, the organist and choirmaster of this church, allowed me to attend a rehearsal of the eighty boys and twenty men who form his fine choir. the large number of boys is explained by the fact that nearly half of them are altos. the motet of the lutheran church is invariably unaccompanied. it closely resembles in form our anthem, but the german protestants look upon the _a capella_ style, which continues the tradition of the sistine chapel at rome, as the purest and highest in church music. on no account would they use the organ to accompany a motet. this gives rise to elaborate compositions, often like mendelssohn's "judge me, o god," in eight parts. by treating the boys and men as separate choirs, each in four parts, and getting responses between them, a variety of tone colour, which is almost orchestral, is obtained; and when both choirs unite in solid eight-part harmony, the result is imposing. as the germans are usually not sight-singers, the labour involved in learning these motets is immense. the higher register of the boys is well trained. they sing up to b flat without effort, and with purest tone. the same may be said of the dom choir, for which mendelssohn wrote his motets. at my last visit to leipzig, i carried an introduction to dr. rust, trainer of the thomas church choir, but i was there just after whitsuntide, when the yearly shifting of classes had just taken place, and dr. rust, who wished me to hear his boys at their best, asked me not to come to a rehearsal. speaking generally, the voices of german boys are thinner than those of english boys, more like fifes than flutes. st. clement danes, strand. the choirmaster here, mr. f. j. knapp, is also master of the parish day school. here he insists on quiet singing, and stops coarseness directly. the boys are taught on the tonic sol-fa system, which, says mr. knapp, has alone enabled him to produce his results. some time ago at st. stephens, walworth, he was called upon to produce a choir in a week, and he did this, by nightly rehearsals, to the satisfaction of everyone. complete oratorios, with band, were frequently given by this choir of sol-faists. at st. clement danes he had to produce a choir in five days, and here again he succeeded by the use of tonic sol-fa. "our choir-boys," he says, "can now sing at sight almost anything i put before them. we never have more than two or three practices (one only, full) for the most difficult anthems we do. there is an anthem every sunday, a choral communion once a month, offertory sentences on alternate sundays, cantatas and oratorios at festivals." mr. knapp adopts the useful plan of "tuning-up" his boys before the morning service. flattening, when it occurs, is due, he considers, to damp weather, a cold church, &c. but he is rarely troubled with it. the boys' voice exercises are taken at the harmonium, first slow notes to "koo-ah," or to "oo-ay-ah-ee," or to a sentence containing consonants. this exercise is done both ascending and descending, but especially descending. he also uses the chromatic scale from b flat up to f:--[illustration: a music staff with a treble clef on the left. two quarter notes: b flat below the staff and f on the top line.] he tells the boys nothing about the registers, but watches constantly against shouting. salzungen choir. this (protestant) choir of men and boys is well-known in germany, and not only sings at salzungen, but occasionally makes tours, and gives concerts. herr mühlfeld, the trainer, tells me that he takes the boys from years of age upwards, and that before entering the choir they have a fair knowledge of notes, and can sing at sight. the voices are examined on entry, low ones being put to sing alto, and high ones being put to sing soprano. the boys have two lessons of an hour each per week, in which they practise exercises, _choräle_, school songs, and church music. flattening, according to herr mühlfeld, is due to ( ) bad ear, ( ) imperfect training, ( ) fatigue of the voice. the boys are taught to listen to each note that they sing, and to make it blend with the instrument or the leading voice. in order to do this they must sing softly, and thus hear their neighbours' voices. the rd, th, th, and th tones of the scale are, says herr mühlfeld, often sung flat, and exercises should be specially given to secure the intonation of these sounds. the boys must also learn the intervals, and whenever they appear to be tired a pause must be made. upton cross board school. this is not a church, but a boys' school, from which a good many choristers are drawn, and where excellent results have been obtained. the boys have often won prizes in choral competitions. mr. h. a. donald, the headmaster, tells me that he examines the voices of the boys one by one in his own room, once a year. those who can take g and a [illustration: musical notation] sweetly and easily are put down as first trebles. those who can go below c [illustration: musical notation] are altos. the rest are second trebles. he finds that after a year a boy's voice will often have changed--a treble become an alto, or vice versa. in modulator practice, and as far as possible in pieces of music, he keeps the trebles above [illustration: musical notation]. below this they get coarse. he never gives on the modulator an ascending passage which begins below this g. one may leap up, and come down by step, but not ascend by step. he uses mr. proudman's "voice-training exercises" (j. curwen & sons) for first trebles, and his contralto exercises for contraltos. coarseness he checks at once, and he silences boys whose voices are breaking. [illustration: decoration] chapter xiii. alto boys. how is the alto part, in a church choir consisting of males, to be sung? in our cathedrals this part has been given, ever since the restoration, to adult men, generally with bass voices singing in their "thin" register. for this voice our composers of the english cathedral school wrote, carrying the part much lower than they would have done if they had been writing for women or boy-singers. for this voice, also, handel wrote, and the listener at the handel festival cannot but feel the strength and resonance which the large number of men altos give to the harmony when the range of the part is low. the voice of the man alto, however, was never common, and is becoming less common than it was. it occupies a curious position, never having been recognised as a solo voice. i have heard of an exceptionally good man alto at birmingham who was accustomed to sing songs at concerts, but this is an isolated case. the voice seems to have been generally confined to choral music. this voice is entirely an english institution, unknown on the continent. historians say that after the restoration, when it was very difficult to obtain choir-boys, adult men learned to sing alto, and even low treble parts, in falsetto, in order to make harmony possible. let us concede at once that for music of the old cathedral school this voice is in place. the churches are, however, getting more and more eclectic, and are singing music from oratorios, cantatas, and masses that was composed for women altos, and is far too high in compass for men. we may admit that because the alto part lies so much upon the break into the thick or chest register of boys, it is very difficult to get them to sing it well. the dilemma is that in parish churches, especially in country places, the adult male alto is not to be had, and the choice is between boy altos, and no altos at all. there is no doubt, moreover, that the trouble of voice-management in boy altos can be conquered by watchfulness and care. at the present time there are, as the information i have collected shows, a number of very good cathedral and church choirs in which the alto part is being sustained by boys. * * * * * the following is from mr. james taylor, organist and choirmaster of new college, oxford:-- "new college, oxford, _dec._ , . "dear sir,--in reply to your letter, i can confidently recommend boy altos in parish or other choirs, provided they are carefully trained. we have introduced them into this choir for more than two years, and the experiment has fully come up to my expectations. we still retain two men altos in our choir, which now consists of the following:--fourteen trebles, four boy altos, two men altos, four tenors, and four basses. i find boy altos very effective in _modern_ church music, such as mendelssohn's anthems, &c., where the alto part is written much higher than is the case in the old cathedral music. "yours very truly, "james taylor." dr. garrett, organist of st. john's college, cambridge, writes:-- " , park side, cambridge, _dec._ , . "dear mr. curwen,--i have had boy altos only in my choir for some years. i introduced them of necessity in the first instance. the stipend of a lay clerk was too small to attract any other than a local candidate, and no suitable man was to be found. if i could have really first-class adult altos in my choir i should not think of using boys' voices. at the same time there are some advantages on the side of boys' voices. "i. unless the adult alto voice is really pure and good, and its possessor a skilled singer, it is too often unbearable. "ii. under the most favourable conditions it is very rare, according to my experience, to find an alto voice retaining its best qualities after middle age. "iii. the alto voice is undoubtedly becoming rare. "on the other side you have to consider:-- "i. the limitation of choice in music, as there is a good deal of 'cathedral music' in which the alto part is beyond the range of any boy's voice. "ii. a certain lack of _brightness_ in the upper part of such trios as those in 'by the waters of babylon' (boyce) 'the wilderness' (goss), and many like movements. "as regards the break question, the advantage, in my experience, is wholly on the boys' side. a well-trained boy will sing such a solo as 'o thou that tellest,' or such a passage as the following without letting his break be felt at all: [illustration: for thou hast been my hope, hast been my hope.] this passage,[b] which is from the anthem, 'hear my crying,' by weldon, i have heard sung by an adult alto, who broke badly between e flat and f. the effect was funny beyond description. in fact, if a boys' break is about c or d ( rd space or th line), and he [illustration: musical notation] is never allowed to practise above that, there will be no question of break arising. my alto boys can get a good round g, and five out of the six can go up without break to c. [illustration: musical notation] the advantage of this in chanting the psalms is obvious. what can an adult alto be expected to do in a case where the reciting note is close to his break? these are considerations which may fairly be taken into account even when the decision is to be made between _possible_ courses; when there _is_ a choice. in many cases there is none. it must be (as you say) boy alto, or no alto. i am quite sure that careful training is all that is needed to make boy altos most efficient members of a choir. or rather, i ought to say that careful selection and training are both needed. to take a young boy as an alto because he happens to have three or four raucous notes from, say, b flat to e flat [illustration: musical notation] while he has a bad break between e flat [illustration: musical notation] and f is, of course, to court failure. i prefer taking a boy whose break lies higher, and training his voice downwards. if, as a probationer, he can get a fairly good round b natural [illustration: musical notation] or b flat; lower notes can certainly be produced as he grows older.] "yours very truly, "george garrett." [b] i have transposed the passage from the alto clef.--j. s. c. * * * * * a remark may be interposed here that from a physiological point of view we must expect voices of different pitch in boys, just as in girls, women, and men. boys differ in height, size, and in the pitch of the speaking voice, which is a sure guide to the pitch of the singing voice. there is thus no physiological ground for supposing all boys to be trebles. * * * * * the following letter is from the rev. w. e. dickson, precentor of ely:-- "the college, ely, _october th_, . "_dear sir_,--i have much pleasure in replying to your note. if i resolved to do so in a few words i should be obliged to say that seldom indeed do i hear boy altos sing with sweet voices and true intonation, either in my own country, or in those foreign countries in which i am in the habit of taking my holidays. "but i should like to be allowed to explain that, in my opinion, the coarseness (at any rate) of boy-altos in english choirs is due to mismanagement by the choirmaster. his usual plan is to turn over to the alto part boys who are losing their upper notes by the natural failure of their soprano voices. this saves trouble, for such boys probably read music well enough, and they are simply told to 'sing alto,' and are left to do so without further training, until they can croak out no more ugly noises. surely this is quite a mistake. am i not right in maintaining that a perfect choir should consist of first trebles tenors second trebles basses well balanced as to numbers, and all singing with pure natural quality? if i am, then it follows that the second trebles should be precisely equal to the firsts in number and strength, and should include boys of various ages, as carefully selected and as assiduously trained as the others. i cannot but think--and, indeed, i perfectly well know--that where this has been done by a skilful teacher, whose heart is in his work, boy altos have been made to sing with sweetness and accuracy. "you will probably agree with me--though this is quite by the way--that secular music should be largely used by such a teacher. the part-songs of mendelssohn, for instance, should be trolled out by the two sets of boys, who may even interchange their parts at practice with the best results. but of course this is said only in reference to choirs of a high class. "i do not deny that even the best teaching and the best management will not secure quite the same _timbre_ which you get in choirs with falsetti in the alto part. a certain silvery sweetness is obtained from these voices to which our english ears have become accustomed, and which we should miss if boys, however well-trained, took their places. in the preces, versicles, litany, &c., of the english choral service, we should be conscious of a loss. in cathedrals, too, the complete shelving of some or even many compositions, favourites by long association, if not by intrinsic merit, would be inevitable. but i am unable to doubt for a moment that when the change had been made, and time had been given for the new order of things, under a thoroughly competent musician, we should not regret it. "at ely we have ten men in daily attendance; fourteen on sundays. we keep twenty boys in training. if this vocal body were thus distributed:-- first trebles tenors ( on sunday) second trebles basses ( on sunday) we should certainly be stronger and healthier in tone and quality than we are now, with a disproportionate number of trebles, thus:-- trebles [ ] tenors [ ] altos [ ] basses as to rustic choirs in village churches, i fear the case is hopeless, and i myself should be glad to see editions of well-known hymn-tunes and chants in three parts only--treble, tenor, and bass. handel wrote some truly grand choruses in three parts in his 'chandos anthems.' but his tenor part is not for every-day voices! "believe me, truly yours, "w. e. dickson." * * * * * the following, from dr. haydn keeton, organist of peterborough cathedral, is against boy altos:-- "thorpe road, peterborough, _december th, _. "dear sir,--i have had about eighteen years' experience with alto boys, and although i have had some exceedingly good ones, one or two as good as it is possible, i think, to have, yet i must say that, in my opinion, it is a bad system to substitute boys for men, especially in cathedral music. the reason why the change was made here was that about the year three of our men altos were failing, and i happened to have three boys with good low voices, who took alto well. in consenting to this change i had no idea of its being a permanent one, but owing to the agricultural depression our chapter have been quite prevented doing what they would like to do with the choir. the general effect of the change has been this--that i have been always weak in trebles. we are limited to peterborough for our choristers, and, as a rule, there is not one boy in a hundred who knows even his notes when he enters the choir. it takes from eighteen months to two years for a boy to learn his work, and it is not until a boy is at least twelve that one can turn him into an alto. the result is that four of my senior boys have to be turned into altos, and i am left with a preponderance of young, inexperienced boys as trebles. at the present time i have twelve trebles, eight of whom are quite young. "in addition, see what extra work is involved in teaching the boys to sing alto. some boys do not take to alto very easily, and the extra work given to the altos means that quantity taken from the trebles. i am unable, in consequence, to give the necessary time to the elementary work that one ought to give. we can only get one hour's practice in the day, owing to the boys going to school. "then, again, as to tone. the tone of a choir with men altos, if they are at all fairly good, is so much superior to one with boy altos. in cathedral music so many anthems and services have trios for a.t.b. there is not one boy in a thousand who can sing the trio in 'o where shall wisdom' (boyce) with a tenor and bass effectively. and how many there are similar to that! "i do not see how boys could work at all in ordinary parish choirs, for here there are not the opportunities of teaching boys to read well at sight. it is only by daily practice that one can make anything of boys. "yours faithfully, "h. keeton." dr. frank bates, organist of norwich cathedral, has favoured me with a copy of a paper on the boy's voice, in which he says:-- "the compass of a boy's voice when properly developed is from [illustration: c to a b[b] or c] the chest or lower register extends from [illustration: c to c or d] the head or upper register extends from [illustration: c or d to b[b] or c] no fixed compass can possibly be given to the different registers, as the older a boy becomes the lower the change occurs; the head register often being used as low down as a." [illustration: musical notation] in a letter to me dr. bates says:-- "i quite think that, for ordinary parish church services, the effect of boy altos, if properly taught, is all that one can desire." in reply to my remark that the break comes in so awkwardly for boy altos, dr. bates says:-- "i fail to understand the reason you quote for the non-usage of boy altos. there is no change whatever in a boy's voice, _in its normal state_, until [illustration: musical notation] is reached. if the change is made lower down all the brilliancy is taken out of a boy's voice. as a boy gets older he uses the upper register much lower down. i have known boys at the age of eighteen with lovely top notes but very poor chest register. in such cases, when a boy's top register commences at [illustration: g] i can quite understand the difficulty." there is evidently some conflict of nomenclature here, as the limits of the registers as given by dr. bates differ considerably from those which are usual. i am glad to learn that dr. bates is writing a book on "the voices of boys," which will no doubt clear up the subject. in the paper before me he recommends practice of the scales to such syllables as la, fa, ta, pa, in order to bring the tone well to the front of the mouth, and reinforce it by means of the soft upper palate. he recommends the teacher to train the boys to use the upper register by making them sing over and over again, _very softly_, the following notes:-- [illustration: chest head ah....] here again the transition seems to me to be taken much too high. mr. frank sharp, of dundee, trainer of the celebrated children's choir, which has sung the treble and alto parts, both solos and choruses, of _messiah, st. paul_, and many cantatas, writes to me:-- "in part-singing where there are boy trebles, the adult male alto voice has its charms. the contrast in quality between the open tone of the boys' voices and the condensed, sometimes squeaky sweetness of the man alto does not affect the blending, and helps the distinctness of parts. considering the growing scarcity of this latter voice, why not use boy altos? they can be made as effective as ordinary women altos, but they are as short-lived and need more attention than the boy trebles. their chief drawback is a tendency to produce tone without the least attention to quality or effect save that of noise. nevertheless, there is nothing to hinder boy altos doing all that is necessary, or, indeed, all that can be done by the adult male alto. i have trained boys to sing alto in _messiah_, _st. paul_, and equally trying music, during the past twenty years, and anyone else who keeps the girl's alto voice before him as a model can do the same. the boy alto voice may be said to have a husk and a kernel: the one strident, harsh, and overpowering; the other sweet, and, with use, rich and round. the average healthy boy, with his exuberant love of noise, will naturally give the husk, but the skilful voice-trainer will only accept the kernel, evolved from right register, good _timbre_, and proper production. seeing and hearing a process in voice-training is, however, more satisfactory than much writing and the reading thereof." * * * * * mr. w. w. pearson, master of a village school in norfolk, who is well-known by his excellent part-songs, writes to me:-- "i succeed very well in getting boys to sing alto because i always use a large number of exercises in two parts, making each division of the class in turn take the lower part. i do not choose boys for altos on account of age. that, in my opinion, has nothing to do with it. i choose them by quality of voice. there is no break in the voice of the natural alto between]--[illustration: g and c] i find altos out generally when they are novices, by hearing them trying to sing with the others, and dropping down an octave in high passages." * * * * * the following interesting notes are by mr. w. critchley, organist, choirmaster, and schoolmaster in the village of hurst, near reading:-- "i do not choose the elder boys as altos, as i find that treble boys, as a rule, are at their very best just before the change of voice. and moreover, when that change begins, the voice is so uncertain in its intonation that if the boy were put to sing alto he would be certain to drag the others down. at present i have one or two boys with round, mellow voices, who are very effective. unfortunately, most of the alto parts in hymn-tunes and chants hover about the place where the break in the voice occurs, and it requires a lot of practice to conquer the difficulty. as a rule, i get the alto boys to sing in the lower register. it is very seldom they get a note which they cannot take in this register, so i train it up a little, thus-- [illustration: keys b to f[#]. d_ t_ l_ t_ d_ r_ m_ ] i do not see any other way of getting over the uncertainty in the boy alto voice. it is merely a matter of time and trouble." * * * * * mr. j. c. e. taylor, choirmaster of st. mary's, penzance, and head-master of the national school, says:-- "i have had one or two pure alto voices, and these are the best, but very rare. good voices of trebles unable to take [illustration: musical notation] (d) have often become fair alto voices, and my present solo alto boy is one of these. the trios in the anthems are taken by boy alto, tenor, and bass. these alto boys are practised from lower g to c--[illustration: musical notation] up and down, minding their _p's_ and _f's_. my trebles, as a rule, last until fifteen years of age, and altos until sixteen, and even seventeen." * * * * * mr. a. isaac, choirmaster of a church in liverpool, says:-- "for the last twenty years i have been continuously engaged with male voice choirs in connection with churches too poor to pay for adult help, and, as you may readily guess, i have never yet had the good fortune to secure, for any length, the services of gentlemen who could sing falsetto effectively. i have had, therefore, to rely solely upon my boys for the alto part. at the present time my choir, which is allowed to be up to the mark amongst local liverpool churches, is made up of boys ( treble and alto) paid, and adults ( tenors and basses) voluntary. there is, i find, no royal road to the alto part. my course is as follows. i obtain my boys as soon as they are eleven, by which age they have been made fairly familiar at my school with the old notation on the movable _do_ plan. theoretical instruction is continued side by side with special voice-training exercises. occasionally i meet with a boy who has a true mezzo-soprano voice, and he is a treasure, but in the main my selections are boys with treble voices. as soon as a treble shows signs of voice breaking, i let him down into the alto part. the transition is not very difficult, for by this time the boy has become a fairly good sol-faist and reader. i have but to adapt the voice-training exercises to him in company with his fellows, and i have no reason to regret the issue. i take my boys always together, with two-part exercises." mr. stocks hammond, organist and choirmaster of st. barnabas, bradford, in a published paper on "boys' voices," says:-- "during many years of choir training, i have experienced very great difficulty in supplying the alto parts with _good_ men's falsetto voices (especially in voluntary choirs), and i have therefore been compelled to have that part sung by boys, and experience leads me to prefer the boys' voices to men's, unless, indeed, they are real alto voices, which are seldom to be met with. i have never yet had any great difficulty in finding boys' voices capable of sustaining that part, and can always fill up any gaps that occur by the following means. whenever i find a treble begins to experience a difficulty in singing the upper notes, and that in order to sing them he must strain his voice, immediately he is put to sing alto, which he is in most cases able to do for one or two years, and during that time he is thus retained as a useful member of the choir; for otherwise he would very soon have been lost to it entirely, for nothing hastens so much the breaking of the voice as the habit of unduly straining it." mr. t. h. collinson, mus.b., organist of st. mary's cathedral, edinburgh, writes to me:-- "boy altos are a fraud and a deception, as a rule, though occasionally one meets with a natural contralto at an early age. even then he can generally be worked up to treble by gentle treatment, developing the middle and falsetto registers." * * * * * in order to get to the bottom of this subject, i invited correspondence in the _musical standard_ (until recently the organ of the college of organists), and several interesting letters were the result. mr. r. t. gibbons, f.c.o., organist of the grocers' company's schools, where excellent performances of operettas are given, wrote:-- "as soon as a boy's voice reaches only e[b] he is drafted into the altos, and that preserves his voice much longer." to this statement mr. fred. cambridge, organist of croydon parish church, took exception. he said:-- "i do not wish to appear to dogmatise, but i should say 'as soon as a boy's voice reaches only e[b],' it is quite time he left off singing altogether, _i.e._, if his voice has previously been a treble. i know it is the custom in some choirs to make a boy sing alto as soon as his voice begins to break. in my opinion, such a course is utterly wrong. it is not only injurious to the boy's voice, but very unpleasant for those who have to listen to it. "in a school of boys, there ought to be no difficulty in finding sufficient natural altos, without having to rely on broken-voiced trebles. "in my own choir i frequently admit altos at or years of age, with the result that i get five or six years' work out of them, and the latter part of their time they are available for alto solos. "i think (and i speak from upwards of years' experience) that if mr. gibbons will try this plan, he will find it much more satisfactory than drafting his trebles into the altos as soon as their voices begin to break. "i do not enter into the question of men _versus_ boy altos, because it is my experience that in a voluntary choir, especially in the country, a really _good_ adult alto is such a _rara avis_, that one is obliged to rely on boys, and if they are carefully chosen and trained, they are, i think, quite satisfactory. the only place when one misses the man alto voice is in anthems with a verse for a.t.b., such as 'rejoice in the lord' (purcell), 'the wilderness' (goss), &c." mr. c. e. juleff, organist of bodmin parish church, wrote:-- "allow me to say that i have found men altos infinitely preferable to those of boys. in short, one good man alto i have experienced to be equal to half-a-dozen boy altos as regards tone; and in respect to phrasing and reading i have found men altos decidedly superior. the two gentlemen altos who were in my choir at ss. michael and all angels, exeter, were acknowledged by london organists to be 'second to none' in the provinces." * * * * * on the other hand, mr. thomas ely, f.c.o., of st. john's college, leatherhead, gave a warm testimony to boy altos:-- "i may say that in my choir at this college i have four or five very good boy altos. one is exceptionally good, possessing a natural alto voice of remarkable richness and beauty. in our services and anthems he takes the solo alto parts, and in my opinion he is far superior to a man alto, except in such anthems as wesley's 'ascribe unto the lord' (expressly written for choirs possessing men altos), in which he cannot take some of the lower notes. the compass of his voice is from f to e[b]." * * * * * in these letters and experiences there are evidently two underlying ideas. first, that the boy alto has a naturally low voice; second, that the boy alto is a broken-down soprano. for both these notions there is some physical foundation, because there is no doubt that the lower notes of boys of to are rounder and fuller than those of boys of to . herr eglinger, of basel, to whose mastery of the subject in theory and practice i can testify, from personal intercourse, distinctly recognises this. he says:-- "it is only when boys and girls approach the period of change, say a year or two before the voice begins to break, that a clear chest-voice, corresponding to that of women, is perceptible. in boys at this stage, the head-voice rapidly declines in volume and height; and what there is of middle register is not much, nor of great service much longer. on the other hand, the chest-tones acquire a resonance, and in boys a certain gruffness, which, mixed with other voices, imparts a peculiar charm to the chorus." thus although here and there a boy may be found with a naturally low voice from the first, the majority of altos will be obtained from older boys, who are approaching the period of change. it is, however, of much importance to watch these boys, and stop their singing when their voice really gives way, because it then becomes uncertain in its intonation, and is apt to spoil the tuning of the choir. * * * * * the idea that boys must not use the thick or chest register is also a mistake. it is the straining of this register, which produces a hard, rattling sound, that is objectionable. boy altos have as much right to use the chest register, in its proper place and with proper reserve of power, as women altos. [illustration: decoration] chapter xiv. schools for choristers. music is now recognised as one of the professions, taking its place by the side of law, medicine, and divinity. parents who have boys to start in life look for avenues of entrance to these various occupations. and there can be no doubt that to be a chorister-boy is one of the very best ways of serving an apprenticeship to music. hear what the late sir george macfarren says on the subject:-- "a cathedral choir is the best cradle for a musician our country affords. i say this from the conviction, many times confirmed, that, as an average, by very far the best practical musicians, those i mean whose musical readiness gives them the air of having music as an instinct or of second nature, those who are ever prompt with their talent to produce or to perform without preparation at the requirement of the moment; those whose ears are quick, whose wits are sharp, and whose utmost ability is ever at their fingers' ends--are they who have passed their art infancy in one of our ecclesiastical arenas for constant practice. the very early habit of hearing and performing music stimulates the musical sense, and gives musical tendency to all the youthfully supple faculties which bear upon the use of this sense. the habit in almost first childhood of associating sight with sound, written characters with uttered notes, the office of the eye with that of the ear or of the voice, which is the ear's agent, does more in favourable cases to develop some of the best essentials in an artist, than can be accomplished by the unremitting study of after life. i say this feelingly: i had not the advantage to which i refer, but i observe its influence upon the majority of others whose talent claims my best respect." these words put the case with emphasis and truth. a list of former choir boys in the musical profession, if it could be compiled, would afford further evidence in this matter. among composers the list would include arthur sullivan, alfred cellier, john stainer, and alfred gaul; among singers, edward lloyd and joseph maas, while the ranks of the teaching profession are largely recruited from this source. "literature," says mr. herkomer, "does not help art much. art is learnt by doing." you cannot become a musician by reading the matter up, or listening to lectures. musicianship is imparted more after the style of a moral than of an intellectual power--like good breeding rather than like arithmetic. a striking proof of the fact that the chorister boy gravitates easily into the musical profession, and makes his mark there, is afforded by the history of rochester cathedral boys. these include the late mr. joseph maas, the tenor singer, and the following organists of cathedrals, all of whom are living:--dr. armes (durham), dr. crow (ripon), dr. bridge (westminster), dr. j. c. bridge (chester), and mr. wood (exeter). these facts make parents anxious for information as to how to get their sons into church and cathedral choirs. enquiries of this kind are constantly reaching me. i have therefore thought it well to add to the completeness of this work by collecting information from all available sources, and i have to express my thanks to the rev. precentors who have so readily responded to my circular of appeal. the result is in some respects disappointing. choir _boarding_ schools are not numerous, and are not increasing in number. the agricultural depression has reduced the revenues of cathedrals and colleges, and they are likely in the future to seek out cheaper rather than more expensive modes of working. a few town churches which place music in the front, have started boarding schools, but, as a rule, the choristers live in their homes. i have no desire for these boarding schools in the abstract. i question if the boys get more musical education by living together than they do by coming for it day by day. but the boarding school affords the only opportunity for parents who do not live in a cathedral town to get their boys educated as choristers. the day schools suit the townspeople well enough, and here and there a boy from a distance may board with relatives or friends and get into the choir, but this is exceptional. i now give the results of my enquiries. choir boarding schools. worcester cathedral choir school.--a preparatory school for the sons of professional men. boys admitted as probationers nine to eleven, on passing examination. the ten choristers and eight probationers are lodged, boarded, and taught together at the choir school. charge £ per annum for probationers, and £ for choristers, plus s. d. a quarter for washing. pianoforte lessons s. per quarter. boys can compete, when their voices break, for a scholarship at the cathedral grammar school. several have done this with success. apply rev. h. h. woodward, m.a., mus.b. westminster abbey choir house.--candidates must produce certificate of baptism and be at least eight years of age. expected to possess good voice, moderate knowledge of rudiments, to be able to read and write fairly, and to pass medical examination. all boys taught vocal music, and facilities given for learning instruments. master of choir house responsible for their general education, which includes english subjects, french, german, and drawing. parents must supply clothing, and usual appointments, school books, pocket money, travelling expenses, and medical attendance. all other fees paid by the chapter. exeter cathedral choir school.--fourteen choristers are boarded and educated for £ a year, and provided with a suit of clothes each year. there are always two probationers in the school from eight to ten years of age paying £ exclusive of usual extras. vacancies in choristers usually filled by probationers, but no pledge given. possible grants to deserving choristers when they leave; school fees sometimes paid for six months or so after the voice has failed. head master and experienced matron. all saints, margaret street, london, w.--twelve choir boys and two accepted boys waiting for vacancies live in west wing of vicarage under care of one of the clergy, who gives them lessons each morning, a certificated master taking them in the evenings. afternoon, cricket and football in regent's park. whole holiday saturdays, and those who live near enough can go home. vacations--a week in january and at easter, and days in august and september. each boy separate cubicle in dormitory. boys have meals in dining hall with clergy (but at separate table). each boy pays £ in first year, £ in second year, and nothing afterwards. gratuity of £ when voice breaks. probationers pay £ per quarter, and do everything except sing in church. no boy received unless parents wish him to be brought up in church of england. correct ear and brilliant voice count more at examination than knowledge of music. apply vicar. chapel royal, st. james's palace.--the ten choristers reside with master, who is a priest of the chapel royal. free board and education and greater part of clothing. grant of from £ to £ on leaving choir if conduct good. latin, french, mathematics, and usual english subjects. oxford, magdalene college school.--sixteen choristers, board and education free. admitted by open competition. the school is not confined to choristers; it contains at present boys, many of whom pass on to the university. oxford, new college.--eight senior and eight junior choristers take part in the services. these all receive free education at the college school, but provide their own books. they are prepared for oxford local examinations, the college paying fees. twelve choristers are boarded in the school house with the master. these are arranged in two divisions according to musical ability. the first division boarded free, the second division pays about s. a week for the weeks of the school year. some fees paid to senior boys and boys of special value as soloists. choristers whose parents reside in oxford receive from s. to £ a year according to merit and seniority. gratuity or apprentice fee not exceeding £ occasionally given. frome, somerset.--st. john baptist college. founded by late rev. w. j. e. bennett years ago. number of boys usually ; maintained, clothed, and educated on payment of s. a week under twelve, and s. above. no regular holidays. boys not allowed to leave till they have made their first communion. lincoln minster.--boys boarded and educated at northgate schools at expense of chapter. english subjects, french, latin, german, drawing, shorthand, chemistry. all school books found. parents pay travelling, clothing, and washing only. small allowance of pocket-money. four weeks' holiday in the year. eastbourne, st. saviour's church choir school.--established . boys admitted as boarders or day pupils from eight years of age, choristers (boarders) pay guineas a year, day choristers guineas. instrumental music, german, and drawing are extras. other subjects as for cambridge local exams. ten weeks' holiday in the year. scholarships of from £ to £ a year are awarded to efficient choristers. ripon cathedral choir school.--day boys under , £ per annum; over , £ . boarders under , £ per annum; over , £ . laundress, £ . usual subjects, including modern languages and science. instrumental music extra. four choral scholarships at £ , eight at £ , and six for probationers at £ . pupils prepared for university local examinations, preliminary law, and medical, &c. playground, workshop, cricket field, library, school magazine. st. paul's cathedral choir school.--board and education free: parents provide clothes, travelling, and pocket money. good voices and musical talent necessary. easy preliminary examination in scripture, three r's, and latin. candidates must be between and . two or three examinations are held each year according as there are vacancies. course of study as usual for public schools. piano and violin extra. holidays at christmas, easter, and summer. weekly half-holiday. private field in suburbs for games. rev. w. russell, succentor, is head master. salisbury cathedral.--boarding school for choristers in the close. eighteen boys. parents pay £ a year. school has also some pupils who are not choristers. usual subjects of secondary school. one ex-chorister is now a scholar of trinity college, cambridge. the master is a minor canon. boys admitted by competition; those from neighbourhood of salisbury preferred. endowment of nearly £ , a year for the choir. all saints, clifton.--choir school for the choristers of all saints church, who can be prepared for public schools or commercial life. there are twenty choir scholarships, ranging in value from £ to £ a year. a boy holding a junior scholarship may at any time be elected to one of higher value. school fees for choristers to guineas a term. choristers may remain at the school after voice breaks at discretion of head-master. holidays at summer, christmas, and easter. the school is open to boys generally, whether choristers or not. the vicar's choir school, hull.--intended for the choristers of holy trinity church. school fee, £ s. per annum. boarders £ per annum. ten scholarships of the value of £ s., ten value £ s., and twenty value £ s. amount of scholarship deducted from boarding fee in case of those who are admitted into choir. thirteen weeks' holiday during the year. oxford, christ church cathedral school.--boys are all sons of clergymen or other professional men. eight choristers educated, boarded, and lodged free of expense. eight probationers, who, if approved, become choristers as vacancies occur. probationary period usually from to - / years. probationers pay £ a year. a few extras, and fee of £ s. on election of probationer to choristership. every boy is, if possible, passed through the oxford local examinations. month's holiday in summer, and short leave of absence either at christmas or easter, if particularly desired. election by competition after trial of voice and ear. winchester cathedral.--sixteen choristers sing in the services. these receive education free, a clothing gratuity of £ a year, and a leaving gratuity of from £ to £ , according to merit and length of service. there are four boarding scholarships, which leave the parents only £ a year to pay. six of the choristers are foundation boys. of these, the two seniors receive £ a year, and the two juniors £ a year, but boarding scholarships and foundation money are not given to the same boys. there are also four to eight probationers who supply vacancies, if on second trial their voices are approved. these receive free education. there are sixty boys in the school. tenbury, st. michael's college.--founded by the late rev. sir frederick gore-ouseley in . there are eight choristers, boarded and educated free. also eight probationers, from whom the choristers are selected, who pay guineas a year. commoners, _i.e._, boys who do not hold scholarships, and are not probationers, pay guineas a year; two or more brothers guineas a year. preference is given in all elections to the sons of clergymen. thirteen weeks' holiday in the year. sound classical and mathematical education, to fit for scholarships and the higher forms at public schools. healthy situation, in country. education only. bristol cathedral.--boys attend cathedral grammar school, where there are boys. gloucester cathedral.--boys educated and paid up to £ per annum. st. asaph.--boys educated at grammar school. wells.--boys educated at cathedral grammar school. york.--boys sent to archbishop holgate's school. truro.--probationers, after serving at least three months, may be admitted choristers, and receive small quarterly payment. from these are elected the "choir scholars," of whom there are now ten. these receive free education and a quarterly gratuity. one boy, with remarkable contralto voice, comes from a distance, and is boarded and educated at expense of dean and chapter. enlarged number of boarders contemplated. st. peter's, eaton square, london, w.--special day school with master. boys have midday dinner, with tea on practice and late service nights. boarding school formerly existed, but is given up. durham cathedral.--no boarding school. ely cathedral.--no boarding school. bangor.--choristers brought up in national or grammar school. temple church, london.--boys attend stationers' school. peterborough cathedral.--boys educated at king's school. chichester cathedral.--boys taught at prebendal school. inverness cathedral.--no boarding school. armagh cathedral.--a day school for the choir boys. hampton court, chapel royal.--no boarding school. newcastle-on-tyne cathedral.--no boarding school. manchester cathedral.--a special day school for the choir boys, taught by a lay clerk. eighteen to twenty boys receive education free, and four foundation boys receive £ per annum. the precentor likes to have the boys at nine. lichfield cathedral.--day school taught by a deputy lay clerk, the succentor taking latin, english, and divinity. dublin, st. patrick's cathedral.--no boarding school. perth cathedral.--no school. lincoln's inn.--choristers educated, but not boarded. norwich cathedral.--no boarding school. carlisle cathedral.--no boarding school. rochester cathedral.--boys live at home, and attend cathedral school, which is not especially for choristers. liverpool cathedral.--no boarding school. southwell minster.--no boarding school. st. alban's cathedral.--no boarding school. from these particulars it will be gathered that the prevailing custom is for chorister boys to live at home and give their voices in return for free education. the various boarding schools described differ much in the terms they offer, and it may be said generally that only an exceptionally good voice and a personal introduction are likely to succeed in those cases where free board and education are given. the number of candidates is so large that selection is difficult. [illustration: decoration] chapter xv. concert songs for boys. in this list i have included songs with innocent, hopeful, joyous words such as boys may honestly sing. words dwelling with sadness on the past, or speaking of life as bitter, i have excluded. convivial and amatory sentiments have also been ruled out. as to the music, i have excluded songs with difficulties of vocalisation. the keys chosen are those best suited to treble boys, bringing the melody as nearly as possible between f and f{ }, with an occasional g{ }. the list is by no means exhaustive, and must be regarded merely as a dip in the ocean of ballads. i shall be much obliged to correspondents who will suggest suitable additions. composer. title and key. publisher. abt, franz ... o little thrush (c) ... r. cocks adams, stephen ... song of the sailor boy (e flat) r. cocks adams, stephen ... the cry of the little ones (e flat).... boosey addison, r. b. ... violets (f) ... stanley lucas allen, g. b. ... the little drummer (f) ... ashdown almond, e. ... buttercups and daisies (d) ... ashdown anderton, t. ... the bells of shandon (d) ... chappell andré, f. a. ... a british cheer for england's queen (f) ... chappell bailey, w. j. ... make-believes (e flat) ... ashdown barker, geo. ... a health to the outward-bound (b flat) ... chappell barnby, joseph ... an evening melody (f) ... morley barnby, joseph ... that haven fair (e flat) ... morley barnett, j. f. ... the minstrel (g) ... stanley lucas barri, odoardo ... in the cloisters (b flat) ... morley barri, odoardo ... the beauteous song (f) ... cramer barri, odoardo ... the child and the flowers (e flat) ... ashdown behrend, a. h. ... gentleman jack (c) ... patey & willis behrend, a. h. ... the angel's promise (f) ... boosey behrend, a. h. ... the gift (f) ... boosey behrend, a. h. ... two children (a) ... patey & willis bennett, sterndale ... dawn, gentle flower ... novello bevan, fred ... gladsome tidings (e flat) ... patey & willis bevan, fred ... i'll be a soldier, mother (a) ... patey & willis bevan, fred ... the admiral's broom (f minor) ... enoch bishop, r ... chime again, beautiful bells (b flat) ... r. cocks botterhill, jessie ... pack clouds away (c) ... stanley lucas botterhill, jessie ... the lark (f) ... stanley lucas buck, dudley ... when the heart is young ... boosey cherry, j. w. ... gentle spring (g) ... ashdown cherubini ... ave maria ... chesham, e. m. ... fire (g) ... cramer cobb, g. f. ... mary, queen of scots ... london music pub. co. cobb, g. f. ... versailles ... london music pub. co. cobb, g. f. ... kenilworth ... metzler costa, michael ... morning prayer [_eli_](alto) ... j. williams cowen, f. h. ... children's dreams (e minor) ... r. cocks cowen, f. h. ... the children's home (d) ... morley cowen, f. h. ... tears (alto) ... cowen, f. h. ... the watchman and the child (f) ... morley coward, j. m. ... the butterfly and the humble bee ... metzler & co. davis, miss ... what is that, mother? (a flat) ... ashdown dick, cotsford ... the angel's gift (f) ... morley diehl, louis ... dear england (c) ... r. cocks elmore, frank ... child and the sunbeams (c) ... stanley lucas farebrother, b. ... reine d'amour ... flood, edwin ... the gipsy's life (c) ... r. cocks foster, m. b. the mother's grave (e minor) [alto] stanley lucas frost, c. j. ... youthful songs ... novello gabriel, v. children's voices [alto] ... gatty, a. s. ... three little pigs (a flat) ... r. cocks gibsone, ignace ... the man-o'-war's man (d) ... patey & willis gilletto, paul ... lead, kindly light (a minor) ... phillips & page glover, stephen ... the flower gatherers (e) ... r. cocks gounod, c. ... for ever with the lord (d) ... phillips & page gounod, c. ... glory to thee, my god (d) ... phillips & page gounod, c. ... the king of love (e flat) [alto] ... phillips & page grazia, e. n. ... laugh while you may (d) ... ashdown greenhill, j. ... the canadian herd-boy (f) [alto] ... stanley lucas gyde, margaret ... the song of the robin (d) ... ashdown hatton, j. l. ... the cause of england's greatness (f) ... r. cocks hatton, j. l. ... song should breathe of scents and flowers ... ashdown hatton, j. l. ... blossoms ... ashdown hawthorne, alice ... hearth and home (g) ... r. cocks hecht, e. ... the innocent child (c) ... stanley lucas hobson, m. ... the peaceful sabbath bell (f) ... chappell horner, b. w. ... in the cloisters (e flat) ... stanley lucas jackson, j. ... cathedral memories (e flat) ... morley kjerulf, halfdan ... asleep (e) ... stanley lucas lemoine, e. ... the ship-boy's prayer (c min.) [alto] ... stanley lucas liebe, louis ... the stripling's armour (c minor) ... stanley lucas löhr, f. n. ... suffer the little children (f) ... cramer maccabe, f. ... buttercups and daisies (d) ... chappell mackenzie, h. ... the lion flag of england (g) ... patey & willis marzials, theo ... the fairy jane (b flat) ... enoch mendelssohn ... the savoyard's return ... novello moffat, douglas ... the child's prayer (f) ... stanley lucas moir, f. l. ... children asleep (f) ... boosey moir, f. l. ... he will forgive (c) ... r. cocks molloy, j. l. ... home, dearie, home (f) ... boosey molloy, j. l. ... the little match girl (g minor) ... chappell molloy, j. l. ... the sailor's dance ... boosey molloy, j. l. ... dresden china ... boosey morgan, franz ... a fairer garden (c) ... cramer offenbach ... spring, spring _(babil and bijou)_ ... parker, henry ... jerusalem (g) ... cramer pattison, t. mee ... blossoms, fair blossoms ... curwen piccolomini, m. ... dolorosa ... orsborn piccolomini, m. ... eternal rest ... orsborn piccolomini, m. ... in manus tuas (f) ... morley piccolomini, m. ... ora pro nobis ... orsborn piccolomini, m. ... salva nos, domine ... orsborn piccolomini, m. ... sancta maria ... orsborn piccolomini, m. ... the soldier of the cross ... orsborn piccolomini, m. ... the two choirs ... orsborn pinsuti, ciro ... heaven's chorister (c) ... r. cocks pinsuti, ciro ... the old cathedral (d) ... morley pinsuti, ciro ... the touch of a vanished hand (g) ... cramer pinsuti, ciro ... welcome, pretty primrose ... ricordi randegger, a. ... save me, o god (b flat) ... stanley lucas randegger, a. ... joyous life ... rawlings, a. j. ... the distant city [alto] ... marshall robinson, j. ... a hush song (f) ... j. williams rodney, paul ... alone on the raft (g) ... enoch rodney, paul ... calvary (d) ... enoch rodney, paul ... the bells of st mary's (d) ... enoch rodney, paul ... via dolorosa (g) ... enoch rodwell, g. h. ... your boy in blue (f) ... r. cocks roeckel, j. l. ... captain dando (e flat) ... enoch roeckel, j. l. ... crowning the seasons (d) ... r. cocks roeckel, j. l. ... hark! the dogs do bark! (a) ... cramer richards, brinley ... let the hills resound (e flat) ... r. cocks richards, brinley ... mother, thou art far away (f) ... r. cocks smallwood, w. ... a song for the land i love (c) ... chappell smart, henry ... victoria (b flat) ... r. cocks smart, henry ... by the blue sea [alto] ... metzler smart, henry ... dropping down the troubled river ... novello smart, henry ... the birds were telling one another (f) ... ashdown somervell, arthur ... four songs of innocence ... stanley lucas songs for boys ( songs, price d.) ... ... boosey songs for young girls ( songs, s.) ... ... boosey stericker, a. c. ... the ivy green (b flat) [alto] ... stanley lucas street, a. ... the birdie's ball (d) ... r. cocks streleski, anton ... violets (g) ... r. cocks sullivan, a. s. ... the chorister (alto) ... metzler sullivan, a. s. ... what does little birdie say ... ashdown sullivan, a. s. ... the sailor's grave (e flat) ... ashdown tours, berthold ... jesu, lover of my soul (d) ... r. cocks tours, berthold ... the dog and the shadow (g) ... r. cocks tours, berthold ... the new kingdom (d) ... morley trotére, h. ... three men in a boat (c) ... r. cocks wallace, w. v. ... scenes that are brightest (f) ... hutchings walsh, marian ... the sailor boy (c) ... stanley lucas watson, m. ... an englishman's house is his castle (c) ... r. cocks watson, m. ... little birdie mine (d) ... ashdown watson, m. ... little lady bountiful (f) ... ashdown watson, m. ... loved and saved (b flat) ... enoch watson, m. ... our dear old home (d) ... patey & willis watson, m. ... the powder-monkey (g) ... patey & willis watson, m. ... there's a friend for little children (a) ... patey & willis watson, m. ... trafalgar (e flat) ... patey & willis watson, m. ... two bells (g) ... patey & willis west, j. e. ... the roseate hues (alto) ... ashdown west, w. ... i am a honey-bee (g) ... ashdown wrightson, w. t. ... be happy, and never despair (g) ... r. cocks wrightson, w. t. ... cottage and throne (e flat) ... r. cocks old song ... sir guy of warwick (f) ... chappell " ... the minstrel boy ... boosey " ... charlie is my darling ... boosey " ... love was once a little boy ... boosey .... ... the skipper and his boy (f) ... hutchings index. page abuse of the voice, agricultural districts, alto boys, altos, adult male, balance of parts, barnes, rev. w. m., barnicott, mr., bates, dr. frank, behnke, mr., , berlin, st. mary's, boarding schools, choir, breaking of the boy's voice, breath, management of the, , breden, mr. owen, bridge, dr., brooks, mr. walter, , cambridge, mr. f., canterbury cathedral, cathedral choirmasters, change to man's voice, chanting, chapel royal, st. james's, chest voice, choir guild, choosing boys, choristers, schools for, churchill, clement danes, st., strand, clergyman's daughter, the, cold, singing during a, collar-bone breathing, collinson, mr. t. h., , concert songs for boys, consonants, country boys, creser, dr., critchley, mr. w., , curwen, john, register names, day schools, choir, deacon, mr. h., demack, miss, diaphragm breathing, dickson, rev. w. e., , discipline, preserving, donald, mr. h. a., , dunn, sinclair, voice exs., edinburgh, st. mary's, , eglinger, herr, , , ely, mr. thomas, ely, the choir at, "e," the vowel, evans, mr., feeble voice, a, fines, flattening, , garrett, dr., gaul, mr. a. r., gibbons, mr. r. t., gilbert, mr. bernard, , girls, imitating, , hammond, mr. stocks, , health and singing, helmore, rev. f. j., helmore, rev. thomas., hibberd, mr. c., , hopkins, dr. e. j., husband, rev. e., indistinctness, infant school, the, intoning, , isaac, mr. a., juleff, mr. c. e., keeton, dr. haydn, , knapp, mr. f. j., lady teachers, leeds parish church, lincoln cathedral, lincoln's inn chapel, lloyd, dr. c. h., longhurst, dr., long services, macfarren, sir george, mackenzie, sir morell, managing choir boys, mann, rev. w., mark's, st., chelsea, martin, dr. g. c., mental effects, , mixed schools, mühlfeld, herr, norfolk voices, norwich, dr. buck at, o'rell, max, oxford, christ church, parbery, mr. george, parish church choirmasters, paul's, st., cathedral, pearson, mr. w. w., , , peter's, st., eaton square, , pianoforte for rehearsal, prizes for choir boys, pronunciation in singing, , puberty, age of, registers, the, rib breathing, richardson, mr. w. h., , roberti, signor, roney, mr. h. b., , rural districts, salisbury cathedral, salisbury diocese, salzungen choir, saxton, mr. r. h., , schools for choristers, school teacher, the, sentiment about choir boys, sergison, mr. de manbey, , sharpening, sharp, mr. frank, sight-singing, singing by ear, singing by note, singing out of tune, songs for boys, south, mr. c. l., stainer, sir john, steggall, dr., stewart, rev. c. h., stone, alfred, strakosch, m., swanley boys, , taylor, mr. james, taylor, mr. j. c. e., , temper, uncontrolled, temple church, thick register, , thin register, tonic sol-fa certificates, , , , tonic sol-fa system, , , , , , , training of boys' voices, tuning boys up, , upton cross school, voice training, weekes, rev. w. j., westminster abbey, working class boys, yorkshire voices, young, mr. j. w. m., , the psychology of singing a rational method of voice culture based on a scientific analysis of all systems, ancient and modern by david c. taylor new york all rights reserved copyright, , by the macmillan company. new york--boston--chicago--atlanta--san francisco macmillan & co., limited london--bombay--calcutta--melbourne the macmillan co. of canada, ltd. toronto set up and electrotyped. published november, . norwood press: berwick & smith co., norwood, mass., u.s.a. to my mother whose devotion to truth and earnest labor has prompted all my efforts this work is affectionately dedicated preface a peculiar gap exists between the accepted theoretical basis of instruction in singing and the actual methods of vocal teachers. judging by the number of scientific treatises on the voice, the academic observer would be led to believe that a coherent science of voice culture has been evolved. modern methods of instruction in singing are presumed to embody a system of exact and infallible rules for the management of the voice. teachers of singing in all the musical centers of europe and america claim to follow a definite plan in the training of voices, based on established scientific principles. but a practical acquaintance with the modern art of voice culture reveals the fact that the laws of tone-production deduced from the scientific investigation of the voice do not furnish a satisfactory basis for a method of training voices. throughout the entire vocal profession, among singers, teachers, and students alike, there is a general feeling of the insufficiency of present knowledge of the voice. the problem of the correct management of the vocal organs has not been finally and definitely solved. voice culture has not been reduced to an exact science. vocal teachers are not in possession of an infallible method of training voices. students of singing find great difficulty in learning how to use their voices. voice culture is generally recognized as entitled to a position among the exact sciences; but something remains to be done before it can assume that position. there must be some definite reason for the failure of theoretical investigation to produce a satisfactory science of voice culture. this cannot be due to any present lack of understanding of the vocal mechanism on the part of scientific students of the subject. the anatomy and physiology of the vocal organs have been exhaustively studied by a vast number of highly trained experts. so far as the muscular operations of tone-production are concerned, and the laws of acoustics bearing on the vocal action, no new discovery can well be expected. but in this very fact, the exhaustive attention paid to the mechanical operations of the voice, is seen the incompleteness of vocal science. attention has been turned exclusively to the mechanical features of tone-production, and in consequence many important facts bearing on the voice have been overlooked. in spite of the general acceptance of the doctrines of vocal science, tone-production has not really been studied from the purely scientific standpoint. the use of the word "science" presupposes the careful observation and study of all facts and phenomena bearing in any way on the subject investigated. viewed in this light, the scientific study of the voice is at once seen to be incomplete. true, the use of the voice is a muscular operation, and a knowledge of the muscular structure of the vocal organs is necessary to an understanding of the voice. but this knowledge alone is not sufficient. like every other voluntary muscular operation, tone-production is subject to the psychological laws of control and guidance. psychology is therefore of equal importance with anatomy and acoustics as an element of vocal science. there is also another line along which all previous investigation of the voice is singularly incomplete. an immense fund of information about the vocal action is obtained by attentive listening to voices, and in no other way. yet this important element in vocal science is almost completely neglected. in order to arrive at an assured basis for the art of voice culture, it is necessary in the first place to apply the strictest rules of scientific investigation to the study of the voice. a definite plan must be adopted, to include every available source information. first, the insight into the operations of the voice, obtained by listening to voices, must be reviewed and analyzed. second, the sciences of anatomy, mechanics, acoustics, and psychology must each contribute its share to the general fund of information. third, from all the facts thus brought together the general laws of vocal control and management must be deduced. before undertaking this exhaustive analysis of the vocal action it is advisable to review in detail every method of instruction in singing now in vogue. this may seem a very difficult task. to the casual observer conditions in the vocal world appear truly chaotic. almost every prominent teacher believes himself to possess a method peculiarly his own; it would not be easy to find two masters who agree on every point, practical as well as theoretical. but this confusion of methods is only on the surface. all teachers draw the materials of their methods from the same sources. an outline of the history of voice culture, including the rise of the old italian school and the development of vocal science, will render the present situation in the vocal profession sufficiently clear. part i of this work contains a review of modern methods. in part ii a critical analysis is offered of certain theories of the vocal action which receive much attention in practical instruction. several of the accepted doctrines of vocal science, notably those of breath-control, chest and nasal resonance, and forward placing of the tone, are found on examination to contain serious fallacies. more important even than the specific errors involved in these doctrines, the basic principle of modern voice culture is also found to be false. all methods are based on the theory that the voice requires to be directly and consciously managed in the performance of its muscular operations. when tested by the psychological laws of muscular guidance, this theory of mechanical tone-production is found to be a complete error. part iii contains a summary of all present knowledge of the voice. first, the insight into the singer's vocal operations is considered, which the hearer obtains by attentive listening to the tones produced. this empirical knowledge, as it is generally called, indicates a state of unnecessary throat tension as the cause, or at any rate the accompaniment, of every faulty tone. further, an outline is given of all scientific knowledge of the voice. the anatomy of the vocal organs, and the acoustic and mechanical principles of the vocal action, are briefly described. finally, the psychological laws of tone-production are considered. it is seen that under normal conditions the voice instinctively obeys the commands of the ear. in part iv the information about the vocal action obtained from the two sources is combined,--the scientific knowledge of mechanical processes, and the empirical knowledge derived from attentive listening to voices. throat stiffness is then seen to be the one influence which can interfere with the instinctively correct action of the voice. the most important cause of throat stiffness is found in the attempt consciously to manage the mechanical operations of the voice. in place of the erroneous principles of mechanical instruction, imitation is seen to be the rational foundation of a method of voice culture. the mystery surrounding the old italian method is dispelled so soon as the possibility is recognized of teaching singing by imitation. practical rules are outlined for imparting and acquiring the correct use of the voice, through the guidance of the sense of hearing. the singer's education is considered in its broadest sense, and training in tone-production is assigned to its proper place in the complex scheme of voice culture. during the past twenty years the author has found opportunity to hear most of the famous singers who have visited america, as well as a host of artists of somewhat lesser fame. in his early student days the conviction grew that the voice cannot reach its fullest development when mechanically used. siegfried does not forge his sword, and at the same time think of his diaphragm or soft palate. lucia cannot attend to the movements of her arytenoid cartilages while pouring out the trills and runs of her mad scene. a study of the theoretical works on vocal science, dealing always with mechanical action and never with tone, served only to strengthen this conviction. finally the laws of physiological psychology were found to confirm this early belief. every obtainable work on voice culture has been included in the author's reading. no desire must be understood to make a display of the results of this study. one citation from a recognized authority, or in some cases two or three, is held sufficient to verify each statement regarding the accepted doctrines of vocal science. as for the practical features of modern methods, the facts alleged cannot in every case be substantiated by references to published works. it is, however, believed that the reader's acquaintance with the subject will bear out the author's statements. this work is of necessity academic in conception and in substance. its only purpose is to demonstrate the falsity of the idea of mechanical vocal management, and to prove the scientific soundness of instruction by imitation. there is no possibility of a practical manual of instruction in singing being accepted, based on the training of the ear and the musical education of the singer, until the vocal world has been convinced of the error of the mechanical idea. when that has been accomplished this work will have served its purpose. all of the controversial materials, together with much of the theoretical subject matter, will then be superfluous. a concise practical treatise can then be offered, containing all that the vocal teacher and the student of singing need to know about the training and management of the voice. it is in great measure due to the coöperation of my dear friend, charles leonard-stuart, that my theory of voice production is brought into literary form, and presented in this book. to his thorough musicianship, his skill and experience as a writer of english, and especially to his mastery of the bookman's art, i am deeply indebted. true as i know leonard-stuart's love to be for the art of pure singing, i yet prefer to ascribe his unselfish interest in this work to his friendship for the author. contents part i modern methods of instruction in singing chapter i tone-production and voice culture chapter ii breathing and breath-control chapter iii registers and laryngeal action chapter iv resonance chapter v empirical materials of modern methods chapter vi a general view of modern voice culture part ii a critical analysis of modern methods chapter i mechanical vocal management as the basis of voice culture chapter ii the fallacy of the doctrine of breath-control chapter iii the fallacies of forward emission, chest resonance, and nasal resonance chapter iv the futility of the materials of modern methods chapter v the error of the theory of mechanical vocal management part iii the basis of a real science of voice chapter i the means of empirical observation of the voice chapter ii sympathetic sensations of vocal tone chapter iii empirical knowledge of the voice chapter iv the empirical precepts of the old italian school chapter v empirical knowledge in modern voice culture chapter vi scientific knowledge of the voice part iv vocal science and practical voice culture chapter i the correct vocal action chapter ii the causes of throat stiffness and of incorrect vocal action chapter iii throat stiffness and incorrect singing chapter iv the true meaning of vocal training chapter v imitation the rational basis of voice culture chapter vi the old italian method chapter vii the disappearance of the old italian method and the development of mechanical instruction chapter viii the materials of rational instruction in singing chapter ix outlines of a practical method of voice culture bibliography chapter i tone-production and voice culture in no other form of expression do art and nature seem so closely identified as in the art of singing. a perfect voice speaks so directly to the soul of the hearer that all appearance of artfully prepared effect is absent. every tone sung by a consummate vocal artist seems to be poured forth freely and spontaneously. there is no evidence of calculation, of carefully directed effort, of attention to the workings of the voice, in the tones of a perfect singer. yet if the accepted idea of voice culture is correct, this semblance of spontaneity in the use of the voice can result only from careful and incessant attention to mechanical rules. that the voice must be managed or handled in some way neither spontaneous nor instinctive, is the settled conviction of almost every authority on the subject. all authorities believe also that this manner of handling the voice must be acquired by every student of singing, in the course of carefully directed study. this training in the use of the voice is the most important feature of education in singing. voice culture embraces a peculiar and distinct problem, that of the correct management of the vocal organs. vocal training has indeed come to be considered synonymous with training in the correct use of the voice. every method of instruction in singing must contain as its most important element some means for dealing with the problem of tone-production. no complete and satisfactory solution of this problem has ever been found. of this fact every one acquainted with the practical side of voice culture must be well aware. as the present work is designed solely to suggest a new manner of dealing with this question, it is advisable to define precisely what is meant by the problem of tone-production. in theory the question may be stated very simply. it is generally believed throughout the vocal profession that the voice has one correct mode of action, different from a wide variety of incorrect actions of which it is capable;--that this mode of action, though ordained by nature, is not in the usual sense natural or instinctive;--that the correct vocal action must be acquired, through a definite understanding and conscious management of the muscular movements involved. the theoretical problem therefore is: what is the correct vocal action, and how can it be acquired? on the practical side, the nature of the problem is by no means so simple. in actual instruction in singing, the subject of vocal management cannot readily be dissociated from the wide range of other topics comprised in the singer's education. in much that pertains to the art of music, the singer's training must include the same subjects that form the training of every musician. in addition to this general musical training, about the same for all students of music, each student must acquire technical command of the chosen instrument. this is necessarily acquired by practice on the instrument, whether it be piano, violin, oboe, or whatever else. in the same way, vocal technique is acquired by practice in actual singing. practice makes perfect, with the voice as with everything else. but the voice is not invariably subject to the law that practice makes perfect. in this important respect the singer's education presents a problem not encountered by the student of any instrument. given the necessary talents, industry, and opportunities for study, the student of the violin may count with certainty on acquiring the mastery of this instrument. but for the vocal student this is not necessarily true. there are many cases in which practice in singing does not bring about technical perfection. the mere singing of technical exercises is not enough; it is of vital importance that the exercises be sung in some particular manner. there is one certain way in which the voice must be handled during the practice of singing. if the vocal organs are exercised in this particular manner, the voice will improve steadily as the result of practice. this progress will continue until perfect technical command of the voice is acquired. but if the vocal student fails to hit upon this particular way of handling the voice in practice the voice will improve little, or not at all. in such a case perfect vocal technique will never be acquired, no matter how many years the practice may continue. what is this peculiar way in which the voice must be handled during the practice of singing? this is the practical problem of tone-production, as it confronts the student of singing. it is important that the exact bearing of the problem be clearly understood. it is purely a feature of education in singing, and concerns only teachers and students of the art. properly speaking, the finished singer should leave the teacher and start on the artistic career, equipped with a voice under perfect control. there should be no problem of tone-production for the trained singer, no thought or worry about the vocal action. true, many authorities on the voice maintain that the artist must, in all singing, consciously and intelligently guide the operations of the vocal organs. but even if this be the case the fact remains that this ability to manage the voice must be acquired during student days. in seeking a solution of the problem, that period in the prospective singer's training must be considered during which the proper use of the voice is learned. it may be taken for granted that teachers of singing have always been aware of the existence of the problem of tone-production, and have always instructed their pupils in the correct management of the voice. yet it is only within the past hundred and fifty years that vocal management has been the subject of special study. a brief review of the history of voice culture will serve to bring this fact out clearly. to begin with, the present art of singing is of comparatively recent origin. it is indeed probable that man had been using the voice in something akin to song for thousands of years before the dawn of history. song of some kind has always played an important part in human life, savage as well as civilized. to express our emotions and feelings by means of the voice is one of our most deep-seated instincts. for this use of the voice to take on the character of melody, as distinguished from ordinary speech, is also purely instinctive. singing was one of the most zealously cultivated arts in early egypt, in ancient israel, and in classic greece and rome. throughout all the centuries of european history singing has always had its recognized place, both in the services of the various churches and in the daily life of the people. but solo singing, as we know it to-day, is a comparatively modern art. not until the closing decades of the sixteenth century did the art of solo singing receive much attention, and it is to that period we must look for the beginnings of voice culture. it is true that the voice was cultivated, both for speech and song, among the greeks and romans. gordon holmes, in his _treatise on vocal physiology and hygiene_ (london, ), gives an interesting account of these ancient systems of voice culture. but practically nothing has come down to us about the means then used for training the voice. even if any defined methods were developed, it is absolutely certain that these had no influence on the modern art of voice culture. with the birth of italian opera, in , a new art of singing also came into existence. the two arts, opera and singing, developed side by side, each dependent on the other. and most important to the present inquiry, the art or science of training voices also came into being. in _le revoluzioni del teatro musicale italiano_ (venice, ), arteaga says of the development of opera: "but nothing contributed so much to clarify italian music at that time as the excellence and the abundance of the singers." a race of singing masters seems almost to have sprung up in italy. these illustrious masters taught the singers to produce effects with their voices such as had never been heard of before. from to the progress of the art of singing was uninterrupted. each great teacher carried the art a little further, discovering new beauties and powers in the voice, and finding means to impart his new knowledge to his pupils. this race of teachers is known to-day as the old italian school, and their system of instruction is called the old italian method. just what this method consisted of is a much-discussed question. whatever its system of instruction, the old italian school seems to have suffered a gradual decline. in it was distinctly on the wane; it was entirely superseded, during the years from to , by the modern scientific methods. considered as a practical system of voice culture, the old italian method is a highly mysterious subject. little is now known about the means used for training students of singing in the correct use of the voice. this much is fairly certain: the old masters paid little or no attention to what are now considered scientific principles. they taught in what modern vocal theorists consider a rather haphazard fashion. the term "empirical" is often applied to their method, and to the knowledge of the voice on which it was based.[ ] but as to what the old masters actually knew about the voice, and just how they taught their pupils to sing, on these points the modern world is in almost complete ignorance. many attempts have been made in recent years to reconstruct the old italian method in the light of modern scientific knowledge of the voice. but no such analysis of the empirical system has ever been convincing. [note : "the old italian method of instruction, to which vocal music owed its high condition, was purely empirical." (emma seiler, _the voice in singing_. phila., .)] how the practical method of the old masters came to be forgotten is perhaps the most mysterious feature of this puzzling system. there has been a lineal succession of teachers of singing, from the earlier decades of the eighteenth century down to the present. even to-day it is almost unheard of that any one should presume to call himself a teacher of singing without having studied with at least one recognized master. each master of the old school imparted his knowledge and his practical method to his pupils. those of his pupils who in their turn became teachers passed the method on to their students, and so on, in many unbroken successions. yet, for some mysterious reason, the substance of the old method was lost in transmission. what little is now known about the old method is derived from two sources, the written record and tradition. to write books in explanation of their system of instruction does not seem to have occurred to the earliest exponents of the art of voice culture. the first published work on the subject was that of pietro francesco tosi, _osservazione sopra il canto figurato_, brought out in bologna in . this was translated into english by m. galliard, and published in london in ; a german translation by j. f. agricola was issued in . the present work will call for several citations from tosi, all taken from the english edition. only one other prominent teacher of the old school, g. b. mancini, has left an apparently complete record of his method. his _riflessioni pratiche sul canto figurato_ was published in milan in . mancini's book has never been translated into english. reference will therefore be made to the third italian edition, brought out in milan, . tosi and mancini undoubtedly intended to give complete accounts of the methods of instruction in singing in vogue in their day. but modern vocal theorists generally believe that the most important materials of instruction were for some reason not mentioned. three registers are mentioned by tosi, while mancini speaks of only two. both touch on the necessity of equalizing the registers, but give no specific directions for this purpose. about all these early writers have left us, in the opinion of most modern students of their works, is the outline of an elaborate system of vocal ornaments and embellishments. on the side of tradition a slightly more coherent set of rules has come down to us from the old masters. these are generally known as the "traditional precepts." just when the precepts were first formulated it is impossible to say. tosi and mancini do not mention them. perhaps they were held by the old masters as a sort of esoteric mystery; this idea is occasionally put forward. at any rate, by the time the traditional precepts were given to the world in published works on the voice, their valuable meaning had been completely lost. gathered from all available sources, the traditional precepts are as follows: "sing on the breath." "open the throat." "sing the tone forward," or "at the lips." "support the tone." to the layman these precepts are so vague as to be almost unintelligible. but modern vocal teachers are convinced that the precepts sum up the most important means used by the old masters for imparting the correct vocal action. an interpretation of the precepts in terms intelligible to the modern student would therefore be extremely valuable. many scientific investigators of the voice have sought earnestly to discover the sense in which the precepts were applied by the old masters. these explanations of the traditional precepts occupy a very important position in most modern methods of instruction. there can be no question that the old masters were highly successful teachers of singing. even leaving out of consideration the vocal achievements of the castrati, the singers of tosi's day must have been able to perform music of the florid style in a masterly fashion. this is plainly seen from a study of the scores of the operas popular at that time. empirical methods of instruction seem to have sufficed for the earlier masters. not until the old method had been in existence for nearly one hundred and fifty years does an attempt seem to have been made to study the voice scientifically. in a famous french physician, ferrein, published a treatise on the vocal organs. this was the first scientific work to influence the practices of vocal teachers. for many years after the publication of ferrein's treatise, the scientific study of the voice attracted very little attention from the singing masters. fully sixty years elapsed before any serious attempt was made to base a method of instruction on scientific principles. even then the idea of scientific instruction in singing gained ground very slowly. practical teachers at first paid but little attention to the subject. interest in the mechanics of voice production was confined almost entirely to the scientists. in the early decades of the nineteenth century the mechanical features of voice production seem to have appealed to a constantly wider circle of scientists. lickovius ( ), malgaine ( ), bennati ( ), bell ( ), savart ( ), brought out works on the subject. it remained, however, for a vocal teacher, garcia, to conceive the idea of basing practical instruction on scientific knowledge. manuel garcia ( - ) may justly be regarded as the founder of vocal science. his father, manuel del popolo viscenti, was famous as singer, impresario, and teacher. from him garcia inherited the old method, it is safe to assume, in its entirety. but for garcia's remarkable mind the empirical methods of the old school were unsatisfactory. he desired definite knowledge of the voice. a clear idea seems to have been in his mind that, with full understanding of the vocal mechanism and of its correct mode of action, voices would be more readily and surely trained. how strongly this idea had possession of garcia is shown by the fact that he began the study of the vocal action in , and that he invented the laryngoscope only in . it must not be understood that garcia was the first teacher to attempt to formulate a systematic scheme of instruction in singing. in the works of mannstein ( ) and of marx ( ) an ambitious forward movement on the part of many prominent teachers is strongly indicated. but garcia was the first teacher to apply scientific principles in dealing with the specific problem of tone-production. he conceived the idea that a scientific knowledge of the workings of the vocal organs might be made the basis of a practical system or method of instruction in singing. this idea of garcia has been the basic principle of all practical methods, ever since the publication of the results of his first laryngoscopic investigations in . before attempting to suggest a new means of dealing with the problem of vocal management, it is well to ascertain how this problem is treated in modern methods of instruction. it would not be easy to overstate the importance assigned to the matter of tone-production in all modern systems of voice culture. the scientific study of the voice has dealt exclusively with this subject. a new science has resulted, commonly called "vocal science." this science is generally accepted as the foundation of all instruction in singing. all modern methods are to some extent based on vocal science. to arrive at an understanding of modern methods, the two directions in which vocal theorists have approached the scientific study of the voice must be borne in mind: first, by an investigation of the anatomy of the vocal organs, and of the laws of acoustics and mechanics in accordance with which they operate. second, by an analysis of the traditional precepts of the old italian school in the light of this scientific knowledge. as the present work demands a review of modern methods from the practical side only, it is not necessary to include a description of the vocal organs. it will be sufficient to describe briefly the manner in which scientific investigators of the voice treat the subject of the vocal organs. the vocal mechanism consists of three portions,--the breathing apparatus, the larynx with its appendages, and the resonance cavities. vocal scientists apply their efforts to finding out the correct mode of action of each portion of the mechanism, and to formulating rules and exercises by which these correct actions can be acquired and combined for the production of perfect tones. the analysis of the traditional precepts also conforms to this general plan; each precept is referred to that portion of the vocal apparatus to which it seems best to apply. the outline of the principles of modern methods contained in the following chapters follows this general scheme. it must be understood at the start that on most of the doctrines included in vocal science there is no unanimity of opinion among either theorists or teachers. far from this being the case, practically all the principles of vocal science are the subjects of controversy. chapter ii breathing and breath-control it is generally considered that, as the breath is the foundation of singing, the manner of breathing is of vital importance to the singer. this subject has therefore received a vast amount of attention from vocal scientists, and the muscular actions of breathing have been exhaustively studied. several sets of rules for inspiration and expiration are put forth by different authorities. but there is no occasion for going into a detailed discussion of the different modes of breathing advocated by the various schools, or of the theoretical arguments which each advances. it is sufficient to say that the modes of breathing most in vogue are five in number,--deep abdominal, lateral or costal, fixed high chest, clavicular, and diaphragmatic-abdominal. however, on experimenting with these five systems of breathing, it is found that the number may be reduced to two; of these the others are but slight modifications. in one system of inspiration the abdomen is protruded, while the upper chest is held firm, the greatest expansion being at the base of the lungs. in the other mode of taking breath the abdomen is slightly drawn in, while the chest is expanded in every direction, upward, laterally, forward, and backward. in this system the upper chest is held in a fixed and high position. necessarily the manner of filling the lungs involves the manner in which they are emptied. opinions are practically unanimous as to the proper position of the singer before taking breath, that is, at the end of an expiration. the singer must stand erect, the weight of the body evenly supported on the balls of both feet, with the whole body in a condition of lithe suppleness. in both systems of breathing the manner of expiration is simply a return to this position. a wide variety of breathing exercises are in use, but these do not require detailed description. any one of the prescribed systems of breathing can easily be adopted, and the student of singing seldom encounters any difficulty on this point. still most teachers attach great importance to the acquirement of the correct manner of breathing. toneless mechanical exercises are generally given, by which the student is expected to master the muscular movements before applying in singing the system advocated by the teacher. these exercises are usually combined with those for breath-control, and they are described under that head. _breath-control_ very early in the development of vocal science the management of the breath began to receive attention. mannstein,[ ] writing in , says: "the air in expiration must stream from the chest slowly and without shock. the air must flow from the chest with the tone." in a footnote he adds: "in order to acquire this economy of the breath, students were required to practise daily, without singing, to take and to hold back the breath as long as possible." mannstein does not mention the muscular action involved in this exercise. [note : _die grosse italienische gesangschule._ dresden, .] this subject is also touched upon by garcia. in the first edition of his _École de garcia_, , chap. iv, p. , he says: "the mechanism of expiration consists of a gentle pressure on the lungs charged with air, operated by the thorax and the diaphragm. the shock of the chest, the sudden falling of the ribs, and the quick relaxing of the diaphragm cause the air to escape instantly.... if, while the lungs are filled with air, the ribs are allowed to fall, and the diaphragm to rise, the lungs instantly give up the inspired air, like a pressed sponge. it is necessary therefore to allow the ribs to fall and the diaphragm to relax only so much as is required to sustain the tones." it may be questioned whether garcia had in mind the doctrine of breath-control as this is understood to-day. very little attention was paid, at any rate, in the vocal instruction of that day, to the mechanical actions of breath-control; the great majority of teachers probably had never heard of this principle. as a definite principle of vocal science, breath-control was first formulated by dr. mandl, in his _die gesundheitslehre der stimme_, brunswick, . from that time on, this doctrine has been very generally recognized as the fundamental principle of correct singing. practically every scientific writer on the voice since then states breath-control as one of the basic principles of vocal science. the most influential published work in popularizing the doctrine of breath-control was probably the book written jointly by lennox browne and emil behnke, _voice, song, and speech_, london, . this doctrine is of so much importance in vocal science and in modern methods of instruction as to require a detailed explanation. the theory of breath-control may be stated as follows:[ ] "in ordinary breathing the air is expelled from the lungs quietly, but rapidly; at no point of the breathing apparatus does the expired breath meet with resistance. in singing, on the contrary, the expiratory pressure is much more powerful, yet the expiration must be much slower. furthermore, all the expired breath must be converted into tone, and the singer must have perfect control over the strength and the speed of the expiration. this requires that the air be held back at some point. the action of holding back the breath must not be performed by the muscles which close the glottis, for all the muscles of the larynx are very small and weak in comparison with the powerful muscles of expiration. the glottis-closing muscles are too weak to oppose their action to the force of a powerful expiration. if the vocal cords are called upon to withstand a strong breath pressure, they are seriously strained, and their proper action is rendered impossible. in the same way, if the throat be narrowed at any point above the larynx, so as to present a passage small enough to hold back a powerful expiration, the entire vocal mechanism is strained and forced out of its proper adjustment. the singer must have perfect control of the breath, and at the same time relieve the larynx and throat of all pressure and strain. to obtain this control the singer must govern the expiration by means of the muscles of inspiration. when the lungs are filled the inspiratory muscles are not to be relaxed as in ordinary breathing, but are to be held on tension throughout the action of expiration. whatever pressure is exerted by the expiratory muscles must be almost counterbalanced by the opposed action of the muscles of inspiration. the more powerful the blast, the greater must be the exertion by which it is controlled. in this way the singer may have perfect control both of the speed and of the strength of the expiration." [note : this statement of the doctrine of breath-control must not be construed as an endorsement of the theory of the vocal action embodied in this doctrine. on the contrary, both the theory of "opposed action" breath-control and the "breath-band" theory are held to be utterly erroneous. for a further discussion of this subject see chapter ii of part ii.] the exercises for acquiring command of this "opposed action breath-control" are easily understood; indeed, they will readily suggest themselves to one who has grasped their purpose. most important of these exercises is a quick inspiration, followed by a slow and controlled expiration. exercises for breathing and breath-control are usually combined; the student is instructed to take breath in the manner advocated by the teacher, and then to control the expiration. teachers usually require their pupils to obtain command of this action as a toneless exercise before permitting them to apply it to the production of tone. methods vary greatly as to the length of time devoted to toneless drills in breathing and breath-control. many teachers demand that students practise these exercises daily throughout the entire course of study, and even recommend that this practice be continued throughout the singer's active life. simple as these exercises are in theory, they demand very arduous practice. control of the breath by "opposed action" is hard and tiring muscular work, as the reader may easily convince himself by practising the above described exercise for a few minutes. no special rules are needed for applying this mode of breathing to the production of tone. theoretical writers generally do not claim that the control of the breath brings about the correct laryngeal action, but merely that it permits this action by noninterference. several authorities however, notably shakespeare, maintain that in effect this system of breath-control embodies the old precept, "sing on the breath." (wm. shakespeare, _the art of singing_, london, , p. .) other theorists hold that the empirical precept, "support the tone," refers to this manner of controlled expiration. (g. b. lamperti, _the technics of bel canto_, trans. by dr. th. baker, n. y., , p. .) _the "breath-band" system_ while most authorities on the voice advocate the system of breath-control by "opposed muscular action," there are a number of masters who teach an entirely different system. this is usually known as the "breath-band," or "ventricular" breath-control. charles lunn, in _the philosophy of the voice_, , was the first to propound the theory that the breath may be controlled by the false vocal cords. there is reason to believe that this idea was also worked out independently by orlando steed ("on beauty of touch and tone," _proceedings of the musical assn._, - , p. ). as a number of prominent teachers base their entire methods on this theory, it is worthy of careful attention. the "breath-band" theory may be stated as follows: "when the lungs are filled by a deep inspiration and the breath is held, the glottis is of necessity closed so tightly that no air can escape. in this condition the expiratory muscles may be very violently contracted, and still no air will escape; indeed, the greater the strength exerted the tighter is the closure of the glottis. obviously, this closure of the glottis cannot be effected by the contraction of the glottis-closing muscles, strictly speaking, for these muscles are too small and weak to withstand the powerful air pressure exerted against the vocal cords.[ ] the point of resistance is located just above the vocal cords. the sudden air pressure exerted on the interior walls of the larynx by the expiratory contraction causes the ventricles of the larynx to expand by inflation. this inflation of the ventricles brings their upper margins, formed by the false vocal cords, into contact. thus the opening from the larynx into the pharynx is closed. this closure is not effected by any muscular contraction, therefore it is not dependent on the strength of the muscular fibers of the false vocal cords. it is an automatic valvular action, directly under voluntary control so far as the contraction of the expiratory muscles is concerned, but independent of volition as regards the action of the false vocal cords. on account of their important function in this operation the false vocal cords are called the 'breath-bands.' closure of the glottis by the inflation of the ventricles imposes no strain on the vocal cords. [note : one of the strongest arguments of the "breath-band" advocates is based on this action,--the resistance of the closed glottis to a powerful expiratory pressure. the theory of breath-control by "opposed muscular action" takes no cognizance of this operation. it will however be shown in chapter ii of part ii that the "breath-band" theorists are mistaken in asserting that the action of holding the breath is not performed by the glottis-closing muscles.] "control of the breath in singing is effected by this automatic valvular action. to produce a tone according to this system, the lungs must be filled and the breath held in the manner just described, while the vocal cords are brought to the proper degree of tension; then the tone is started by allowing the 'breath-bands' to separate very slightly, so that a thin stream of air is forced through the opening between their margins. the tone is ushered in by a slight explosive sound, which is nothing but the well-known stroke of the glottis. so long as the expiratory pressure is steadily maintained, this tone may be held, and yet no strain is imposed on the vocal cords. perfect control of the breath is thus attained. for a powerful tone, the breath blast is greater, therefore the ventricles are more widely inflated, and the opening between the 'breath-bands' becomes narrower. the action is always automatic; once the tone is correctly started, the singer need pay no further attention to the operation of the 'breath-bands.' all that is necessary is to maintain a steady breath pressure." in the methods of all the "breath-band" advocates, the first and most important step toward perfect tone-production is held to be the acquirement of this automatic breath-control. as in the "opposed muscular" system, the initial exercises are toneless drills in breathing. the basic exercise, of which all the others are variations, is as follows: "fill the lungs, then hold the breath an instant, and forcibly contract all the chest muscles. then force the air out slowly and powerfully through the glottis." practice of this exercise is always accompanied by a hissing sound, caused by the escape of the air through the narrow slit between (presumably) the "breath-bands." tone-production by the same muscular action is very simple, and requires no further explanation. in its practical aspect this system of breath-control is the direct opposite of the "opposed muscular" system. in one the breath is expelled powerfully, the object being to bring a strong expiratory pressure to bear on the larynx. in the other system, the air is held back, in order that the larynx be exposed to as slight a pressure as possible. the "breath-band" advocates hold that the glottic stroke is the key to correct laryngeal action. as a rule they instruct their pupils to attack every tone, throughout all their practising, with the stroke of the glottis. in the course of time the automatic valvular action is supposed to become so well established that the singer can dispense with the glottic stroke in public performance. needless to say, these teachers usually recognize that this explosive sound is very harsh and unmusical, and utterly out of place in artistic singing. an important claim of the "breath-band" teachers is that their doctrine contains the explanation of the traditional precept, "support the tone." their idea is that the throat, being "firmly set," furnishes a secure base for the tone to rest on. this explanation is of course utterly unscientific, and it cannot be said to throw any light on the meaning of the precept. "singing on the breath" is also referred to this system of breath-control, but with no more coherence than the "support of the tone." no necessary connection obtains between systems of breath-control and those of breathing strictly speaking, that is, of inspiration. as has been said, the great majority of vocal theorists adhere to the "opposed muscular action" breath-control. in this number are included advocates of every known system of breathing. bitter controversies have been carried on between champions of different modes of breathing, who yet agree that the breath must be controlled by "opposed action." this is also true, although not to the same extent, among the "breath-band" teachers. and to render the confusion on the subject of breathing and breath-control complete, instances might be cited of controversies between teachers who agree as to the correct mode of inspiration, and yet disagree on the manner of controlling the expiration. both systems of breath-control cannot be right; if one is correct, the other must necessarily be absolutely wrong. instead of attempting to decide between them, it will be seen that both are false, and that the theory on which they rest is erroneous. this discussion is reserved for a later chapter. chapter iii registers and laryngeal action probably no other topic of vocal science has been studied so earnestly as the registers of the voice. yet on no other topic is there such wide diversity of opinion among theorists and investigators. very little is definitely known regarding the manner in which the subject of registers was treated by the old italian masters. suffice it to say here that the old masters did not refer the registers to changes in the laryngeal action. they were treated simply as different qualities of tone, each quality best adapted to be sung only in a portion of the voice's compass. in the early decades of the nineteenth century the registers of the voice received much attention from vocal theorists, especially in paris. garcia's first published work, _mémoire sur la voix humaine_, was presented to the academy of sciences in . this mémoire gives the results of observations which garcia made on his own pupils; it deals mainly with the position of the larynx during the singing of tones in the various registers. garcia describes how the larynx is raised and lowered in the throat, according to the register in which the tones are produced. he also notes the position of the tongue and the soft palate. widespread interest was awakened by the account of garcia's laryngoscopic investigations of the registers, published in . the attention of the great majority of vocalists was at once drawn to the subject, and the actions of the vocal cords in the different registers were studied by many prominent physicians and voice specialists. exhaustive treatises on the registers have since been published by mme. seiler, behnke, curwen, mills, battaille, curtis, holmes, and by a large number of other investigators. all the results of the laryngoscopic investigation of the vocal action have been disappointing in the extreme. in the first place, no two observers have obtained exactly the same results. writing in , sir morell mackenzie says: "direct observation with the laryngoscope is, of course, the best method at our disposal, but that even its testimony is far from unexceptionable is obvious from the marvelous differences as to matters of _fact_ that exist among observers. it is hardly too much to say that no two of them quite agree as to what is seen." (_the hygiene of the vocal organs_, london, .) wesley mills, in his latest work, endeavors to show a substantial agreement among the best equipped observers of the registers, but his attempt can hardly be called convincing. (_voice production in singing and speaking_, philadelphia, .) opinions on the subject of registers, held by the leading voice specialists to-day, are fully as divergent as in . widely different statements are made by prominent authorities as to the number of registers, the vocal cord action by which each register is produced, and the number of notes which each one should properly include. another deficiency of the doctrine of registers is even more serious in its bearing on practical instruction. not only have all investigators failed to define exactly what the correct laryngeal action is. even if this were determined it would still be necessary to find means for imparting command of this correct action to the student of singing. knowing how the vocal cords should act does not help the singer in the least to govern their action. what the vocal student wishes to know is how to cause the vocal cords to assume the correct position for each register. on this, the most important topic of mechanical voice culture, vocal science has shed no light whatever. a student may hear descriptions of the laryngeal action, and study the highly interesting laryngoscopic photographs of the vocal cords, until thoroughly familiar with the theoretical side of the subject. even then, the student is no better able to control the vocal cord action than when profoundly ignorant of the whole matter. this deficiency of vocal science is frankly recognized by one of the latest authoritative writers on the subject, dr. wesley mills. on page of his work just quoted, he advises students to _hear the great singers_, to note carefully the _quality of tone_ which characterizes each register, and to _imitate these qualities_ with their own voices. this advice may almost be described as revolutionary. vocal theorists have always assumed that the correct action cannot be acquired by imitation. in this advice to rely on the imitative faculty for acquiring control of the laryngeal action, dr. mills abandons the basic principle of modern methods. without exception, all instruction in singing is to-day based on the idea of mechanical tone-production. an entirely new theory of voice culture is involved in this advice of dr. mills. turning to practical methods of instruction, it is found that the subject of registers is very seldom treated in the manner suggested by the theoretical works on the voice. this would be, to make the "placing" of the voice in the different registers the exclusive subject of instruction for a certain number of lessons;--to train each register of the voice separately;--when the correct vocal cord action had been established in each register, to unite the different registers, and to correct any "breaks" which might have developed. comparatively few teachers attempt to follow this course. the great majority treat the registers in a much less systematic fashion. a single half-hour lesson usually includes explanations and exercises on several topics of mechanical tone-production, as well as hints on agility, style, execution, etc. as merely one of this variety of subjects, the registers usually receive rather desultory attention. some teachers profess to ignore the subject of registers entirely. they maintain that, when properly trained from the beginning, the compass of the voice is one homogeneous whole; "breaks" and changes of quality are in their opinion merely the results of bad instruction. but the general belief of vocal authorities is overwhelmingly against these teachers. the condition which they describe is without doubt the ideal of vocal management; but the vast majority of teachers believe that this condition cannot be attained without some attention being paid to the individual registers. most teachers recognize either two registers,--chest and head; or three,--chest, middle, and head. comparatively few extremists recognize more than three. several sets of names for the registers have been proposed by vocal theorists,--thick and thin, long reed and short reed, high and low, etc. but these names have not been adopted by teachers to any extent. one important phase of the registers has not received much attention from the laryngoscopic investigators. this is, that most of the notes of the voice's compass can be produced at will in more than one register. vocal teachers as a rule recognize this fact. julius stockhausen for instance, in his _gesangsmethode_ (leipzig, ), says: "the registers cross each other. the two principal registers of the voice have many tones in common. the perfect blending of the registers on a single tone leads to the _crescendo_, called in italian the _messa di voce_." teachers generally do not set hard and fast limits to the extent of each register; they direct that in singing up the scale the student pass gradually from chest to middle, middle to head voice, etc. in most practical methods the chest register occupies about the same position; this is also true of the head register. even those teachers who profess to ignore registers recognize these two distinct qualities of tone; they instruct their pupils to sing low notes in one quality, and high notes in the other. this is in fact the general practice. in this connection the topics of registers and resonance are often combined. the terms "head voice," "head register," and "nasal resonance," are used interchangeably by the great majority of teachers. this is also true of the expressions "chest voice," "chest resonance," and "chest register." in practical instruction, the extending of the compass of the voice is usually treated, rather loosely perhaps in most cases, as a feature of the registers. methods vary greatly in points of detail, but in most of them instruction on this topic is given along the same general lines. usually the three classes of voices receive different treatment, one form of instruction being used for sopranos and tenors, another for mezzo-sopranos and baritones, and a third for altos and bassos. in teaching students with high voices, teachers usually "place"[ ] the medium notes first, roughly speaking, from g to d (for male voices one octave lower). then the lower notes are developed, mostly by descending scale passages, the lowest note practised being usually c. the high notes are sometimes "placed" by ascending scale passages and arpeggios, but more often by the octave jump and descending scale. there is room for considerable variation in this class of exercises, but they all conform to the same general principle. [note : the expression "placing the voice" is more fully treated in chap. vi. it is assumed, however, that the reader is familiar with the ordinary usage of this expression.] for mezzos and baritones about the same system is followed, the exercises being sung a major third or so lower. in the case of contraltos and bassos, the voice is usually trained from the middle in both directions. most teachers favor the "chest voice" for singers of these types throughout the entire compass. a discussion of the use of special vowels and consonants in this class of exercises is contained in chapter v. it must not be understood that this topic of instruction is assigned by many teachers to any particular period of the student's progress. moreover, practice in the registers seldom forms the exclusive material of lessons and home study for any definite time. the wide range of topics considered in the average singing lesson has already been mentioned. very little connection can be traced between the scientific doctrine of registers, and the treatment which this subject receives in modern methods. this is only to be expected, in view of the fact that laryngoscopic investigation has not resulted in practical rules for managing the vocal cords. the registers of the voice are handled by modern teachers in a purely empirical fashion. _movements of the larynx, tongue, and soft palate_ it was remarked, in speaking of the registers, that no mechanical means has ever been found for directly controlling the operations of the vocal cords. to this statement one apparent exception is seen in the method originated by john howard. this earnest student of the voice sought to carry out, to its logical conclusion, the accepted idea of mechanical vocal control. in this respect he stands practically alone. his is the only method which even pretends to reduce the entire operation of correct tone-production to a set of defined muscular contractions. howard's theories, with the details of a practical method based thereon, are fully described in his most important published work, _the physiology of artistic singing_, new york, . a complete exposition of howard's theories is not called for here. for the present purpose the following short summary will suffice: "the difference between correct tone-production and any incorrect vocal action is solely a matter of laryngeal adjustment and vocal cord action. whether the tone produced be right or wrong, the influence of the resonance cavities is about the same. it is therefore idle to pay any attention to the subject of air resonance. only one form of resonance is of any value in tone-production (considered as distinct from vowel formation). this is the sounding-board resonance of the bones of the head and chest. to secure this, the most important reinforcement of the tone, the larynx must be firmly held in a fixed position against the backbone, at the fifth cervical vertebra. all theories as to the registers of the voice, derived from laryngoscopic observation, are completely erroneous. "in the production of tone, the muscular tissue of the vocal cords is thrown into vibration by the air blast, and not merely the membranous covering of the inner edges of the cords. for a soft tone, only a portion of the fleshy mass of the vocal cords vibrates; if this tone is gradually swelled to _fortissimo_, a constantly increasing portion of the muscular tissue is called into play. for the loudest tone, the entire mass of the vocal cords is bought into vibration. thus the increased volume of the tone results not alone from the increase in the power of the breath blast. each addition to the power of the expiration demands also a change in the adjustment of the vocal cords. "the contractions of the muscles inside the larynx, including the vocal cords, cannot be brought under direct voluntary control. but these contractions can be regulated by the actions of other sets of muscles, viz., those by which the larynx is connected with the skeletal framework of the head, neck, and chest. these latter muscles can all be controlled by direct volition. each of these sets of muscles has its function in tone-production. one set pulls the larynx backward, into the position already described, against the backbone. two other opposed sets hold the larynx firmly in this position, one set pulling upward, the other downward. finally, and most important in their influence on the actions of the vocal cords, a fourth set of muscles comes into play. these tilt the thyroid cartilage forward or backward, and thus bring about a greater or less tension of the vocal cords, independent of the contractions of the muscles of the vocal cords themselves. in this way is regulated the amount of the fleshy mass of the vocal cords exposed to the expiratory blast. correct tone-production results when exactly the necessary degree of strength is exerted by each one of these four sets of muscles." for each of these groups of muscles howard devised a system of exercises and drills by which the singer is supposed to bring all the movements involved under direct voluntary control. the parts thus exercised are the tongue, the soft palate, the jaw, the fauces, and also the muscles by which the larynx is raised and lowered in the throat, and those by which the chest is raised. in teaching a pupil howard took up each part in turn. a sufficient number of lessons was devoted to each set of muscles for the pupil (presumably) to acquire the necessary control of each group. howard also paid much attention to the breath; he worked out the system of high-chest breathing in a really masterly fashion. but his manner of dealing with this subject did not differ from that of a great number of other teachers. howard retired from active teaching about . his theories of the vocal action have never been generally accepted by vocal theorists, and the number of teachers who now profess to follow his method is very small. there are, however, many other masters whose methods, in their main features, are patterned after howard's. these latter teachers may therefore be justly said to follow the howard system, even though they give him no credit for their doctrines of vocal control. howard usually insisted that his pupils should understand the theoretical basis of his method, and the exact purpose of each exercise and muscular contraction. but as a rule his successors do not make this demand on their pupils. they are content to have the students practise the prescribed exercises; this the students do, with very little thought about the theory lying behind the method. for the pupil this system, as at present generally taught, consists solely of a series of muscular drills for the tongue, larynx, palate, etc. in this review of modern methods, the howard system is important, mainly because it represents the consistent application of the idea of mechanical tone-production. as was observed, howard's theories had very little influence on the general trend of vocal science. the external features of the howard system are indeed shared to some extent by the methods of many other teachers. muscular drills of about the same type are very widely used. some teachers go so far in this respect that their methods might almost be confounded with the howard system. but the resemblance is purely external. even in , at the time when howard had fairly perfected his method, there was nothing novel about exercises of this type. the first attempts at a practical study of vocal mechanics consisted of observations of those parts of the vocal organs whose movements can be readily seen and felt. these are the lips, tongue, palate, and larynx. garcia's _mémoire_, already cited, is mainly a record of observations of this kind. nearly every vocal theorist since that time has also paid some attention to this phase of the vocal action. in practical methods of instruction, elaborate systems of rules have long been in use for governing the positions of the tongue, lips, palate, etc. unlike the howard theory, no definite scientific basis is usually given for specific directions of this kind. each investigator has simply noted how certain great singers held their tongues or soft palates, whether the larynx was held high or low in the throat, etc., and considered that these must be the correct positions. it would be hard to find a greater diversity of opinion on any topic connected with the voice than is encountered here. to enumerate all the rules which are given for governing the actions of each part would be useless. a few of the contradictory opinions regarding the correct position of the larynx will suffice to show how great is the confusion on this topic: "the larynx should be held low in the throat for all tones." "it should be held in a fixed position high in the throat." "it should be high for low tones, and should descend as the pitch rises." "it should be in a low position for the lowest note of each register, and should rise as the pitch rises; when the highest note of the register is reached, it should at once descend for the lowest note of the next register." prominent teachers and writers could be cited as authority for each of these rules, and indeed for several others. a similar diversity of opinion is found regarding the rules given for the position of the tongue and the soft palate. practices vary greatly as to the amount of time and attention devoted to muscular drills of the parts under consideration, and also as to the importance attached to the positions of these parts. some teachers make this a prominent feature of their methods. the majority, however, treat the subject much more lightly. they now and then devote a part of the lesson time to the muscular drills and exercises; for the rest, an occasional hint or correction regarding the positions of the parts is deemed sufficient. all the movements of the tongue, lips, and jaw are directly under voluntary control. exercises for these parts are therefore given only for acquiring suppleness and agility. the muscular movements of the larynx and soft palate are readily brought under control. each can simply be raised and lowered. a few minutes' daily practice, extended over three or four weeks, is generally sufficient for the student to acquire satisfactory command of these actions. but to hold the tongue, palate, and larynx in any prescribed position, while singing a tone, is an extremely troublesome matter. those teachers who adhere to precise systems for the positions of these parts, frequently impose much arduous practice on their pupils. as to the merits of any special system of the kind, this question is reserved for future discussion. _attack_ it would be hard to determine when the term "attack" was first used to describe the starting of a vocal tone. nor is it easy to define the precise position assigned to the subject of attack by vocal theorists. no satisfactory statement of the theory of attack can be cited from any published treatise on vocal science. it is commonly asserted, rather loosely indeed, that the tone must be "started right." as clara kathleen rogers expresses it, "attack the tone badly, and nothing can improve it afterwards." (_the philosophy of singing_, new york, .) this statement is in the practical sense utterly unfounded. a tone may be "attacked" with a nasal or throaty quality, and then be improved, by simply eliminating the objectionable quality. of this fact the reader may readily convince himself. in short, all the accepted theories of attack rest on an unscientific basis. vocal theorists generally treat the subject of attack as connected in some way with registers and laryngeal action. but as no rule has ever been formulated for the mechanical management of the laryngeal action, it necessarily follows that no intelligible directions are ever given to the student for preparing to start the laryngeal action correctly. three possible ways of attacking a tone are generally recognized. these are described by albert b. bach, in _the principles of singing_, second edition, london, . they are, first, the stroke of the glottis. (this is advocated by garcia in most of his published works, although the testimony of many of his pupils, notably mme. marchesi, is that garcia used the glottic stroke very little in actual instruction.) second, the aspirate (_h_ as in _have_), which is generally condemned. third, the approximation of the vocal cords at the precise instant the breath blast strikes them. this latter mode of attack is advocated by browne and behnke, who call it the "slide of the glottis." it must be observed that neither the stroke nor the slide of the glottis can be shown to have any influence in causing the laryngeal muscles to adopt any particular mode of adjustment. turning to practical methods of instruction, little connection can be traced between the theories of attack and the occasional directions usually given for starting the tone. the subject of attack is seldom assigned to any particular period in the course of study. many teachers ignore the matter altogether. others devote a few minutes now and then to drilling a pupil in the stroke of the glottis, without attaching much importance to the subject. (the position assigned to this mode of attack by the "breath-band" theorists has already been mentioned.) on the whole, the matter of attack is usually treated rather loosely. the pupil is occasionally interrupted in singing a phrase, and told to "attack the tone better." needless to say, this form of instruction is in no sense scientific. chapter iv resonance in order to understand fully the position in vocal science assigned to the doctrine of resonance, it is necessary to trace the origin and the development of this doctrine. the old italian masters naturally knew nothing whatever of resonance, nor of any other topic of acoustics. yet the accepted theories of resonance in its relation to the voice are directly based on a set of empirical observations made by the old masters. the facts which they noted are now a matter of common knowledge. in singing low notes a sensation of trembling or vibration is felt in the upper chest; high notes are accompanied by a similar sensation in the head. how these sensations of vibration came to be made the basis of the theories of vocal resonance, and of registers as well, is an interesting bit of vocal history. although almost entirely ignorant of vocal mechanics in the scientific sense, the old masters were eager students of the voice. they carefully noted the characteristic sound of each tone of the voice, and worked out what they believed to be a comprehensive theory of tone-production. one of their observations was that in every voice the low notes have a somewhat different quality from the high notes. to distinguish these two qualities of tone the old masters adopted the word used for a similar purpose by the organ builders,--_register_. further, they noted the sensation of vibration in the chest caused by singing low notes, and concluded that these notes are actually produced in the chest. to the lower notes of the voice they therefore gave the name "chest register." as tosi explains it, "_voce di petto_ is a full voice, which comes from the breast by strength." for a precisely similar reason, viz., the sensation of vibration in the head felt in singing the higher notes, this portion of the voice was called by the old masters the "head register." when the study of vocal mechanics along scientific lines was undertaken, in the early decades of the nineteenth century, attention was at first paid almost exclusively to the subject of registers. the questions then most discussed were the number of registers, the number of notes which each should include, and the precise point of production of each register in the chest, throat, and head. garcia's _mémoire_, dealing with the registers, was noticed in the preceding chapter. he showed that different adjustments of the tongue, palate, and larynx are concerned in the production of the various registers. this _mémoire_ opened up a new line of observation, in which garcia continued to take the lead. but the extending of the scope of inquiry concerning the registers did not result in any unanimity of opinion on the part of the vocal investigators of that time. for a few years following the invention of the laryngoscope ( ), vocal theorists ceased their disputes about the registers, and awaited the definite results of this new mode of observation. when this potent little instrument was put within the reach of every investigator, it was believed that the mystery surrounding the registers was about to be dispelled. one important consequence of the invention of the laryngoscope was the turning of attention away from the sensations of vibration in the chest and head. each register was ascribed to a distinct mode of operation of the vocal cords, and for several years the terms "chest voice" and "head voice" were held to be scientifically unsound. but with the publication of helmholtz's _die lehre von den tonempfindungen_ in , the sensations of vibration again received attention. these sensations were then made the basis of a theory of vocal resonance, which has since been adopted by the great majority of vocal scientists. until the publication of helmholtz's work vocal theorists had known practically nothing of acoustics. the fact that the tones produced by the vocal cords are increased in power and modified in quality by the resonance of the air in the mouth-pharynx cavity came as a distinct revelation to the theoretical students of the voice. helmholtz confined his experiments and demonstrations to the mouth-pharynx cavity, and investigated in particular the influence of this cavity in producing the various vowel and consonant sounds. but vocal theorists at once extended the idea of air resonance, and connected it with the well-known sensations of vibration in the chest and head. it was assumed that these sensations are caused by vibrations of the air in the chest and nasal cavities. this assumption has been accepted without question by the great majority of vocal scientists. both the chest voice and the head voice are now believed to owe their distinctive qualities to the reinforcing vibrations of the air in the chest and nasal cavities respectively. the mere fact that these vibrations can be felt is held sufficient proof of the statement. "in every true chest tone the resonance can be distinctly felt as a vibration (fremitus pectoralis) by the hand laid flat on the chest." (_die kunst der idealen tonbildung_, dr. w. reinecke, leipzig, .) it must be observed that this is by no means a satisfactory scientific proof of the doctrine of chest resonance. this feature of the subject is reserved for discussion later. the doctrine of resonance is now generally accepted as one of the basic principles of vocal science. it is stated, in substance, by almost every authority on the voice that "the tone produced by the vibration of the vocal cords, even when the laryngeal action is correct in every way, is weak, of poor quality, and without character. this tone must be strengthened and made of musical quality by utilizing the influence of resonance." the subject of resonance is always treated in theoretical works on the voice under the three heads of chest, mouth-pharynx, and nasal resonance. to these a fourth is sometimes added,--the sounding-board resonance of the bones of the chest and head. _mouth-pharynx resonance_ considered strictly in its bearing on tone-production, the resonance of the mouth-pharynx cavity does not receive much attention from theoretical observers of the voice. the form assumed by this cavity is of necessity determined by the vowel to be sung. aside from its function in the pronunciation of words, the influence of mouth-pharynx resonance on the tones of the voice is seldom discussed by vocal scientists. as a rule, vocal teachers pay little attention to this form of resonance. the subject of enunciation is generally treated as distinct from tone-production strictly speaking. while the correct emission of the tone, in its passage from the vocal cords to the lips, is considered a very important topic, this feature of tone-production has no reference to resonance. one exception must be made to the statement that no attention is paid to mouth-pharynx resonance. this is found in an interpretation of the empirical precept, "sing with open throat." several vocal theorists take this precept literally, and hold that it describes a function of mouth-pharynx resonance. according to their idea the cavity must be expanded to the largest size possible, on the theory that a large resonance cavity secures a proportionately greater reinforcement of the tone. "the greater the size of the pharynx, whether through practice or natural gifts, the stronger in proportion is the tone." (_die kunst der idealen tonbildung_, dr. w. reinecke, leipzig, .) this theory is of course rather loose and unscientific. still this idea,--a literal interpretation of the "open throat" precept,--receives much attention in practical instruction. only one muscular action has ever been defined by which the throat might be "opened." that is, the lowering of the larynx and the raising of the soft palate. many teachers therefore direct that the throat be "opened" gradually in this way for the swelling of the tone. it is assumed that the power of the voice is developed by singing with the larynx low in the throat. this manner of instruction is, however, very loosely given. the supposedly scientific interpretation of the "open throat" precept shades off into a purely empirical application. _chest resonance_ in no other topic of vocal science is the gap between theory and practice more striking than in the doctrine of chest resonance. vocal teachers are in fair accord in believing the resonance of the air in the chest to be the most important influence in imparting power and "color" to the voice, and particularly to the lower notes of its compass. students of singing are in almost all cases urged to acquire a proper command of chest resonance. but when it comes to telling the student how to learn to govern the chest resonance, the teacher has practically nothing to offer. no direct means has ever been found for causing the air in the thorax to vibrate; this cannot be effected, so far as has yet been determined, by any voluntary muscular action on the part of the singer. this being the case, intelligible instruction in the use and management of chest resonance is hardly to be expected. teachers of singing are obliged to fall back on purely empirical instruction on this topic. this usually takes the form of a description of the sensations experienced by the singer when producing tones in the chest voice. how this description of the singer's sensations is applied, is discussed in the following chapter. _nasal resonance_ the lack of connection between the theories of vocal scientists and the practical methods of singing teachers is well illustrated in the subject of nasal resonance. a striking feature of all the discussions concerning the use or avoidance of nasal resonance is the fact that vocal theorists base their opinions entirely on empirical observations. the use of nasal resonance is condemned by almost every prominent authority on vocal science. yet the only reason ever advanced for condemning nasal resonance is the fact that a tone of objectionable nasal quality seems to "come through the nose." this fact cannot, of course, be questioned. it is mentioned by tosi, who speaks of the "defect of singing through the nose," and is observed by everybody possessed of an ear keen enough to detect the nasal quality of sound. it is generally stated by vocal theorists that the nasal quality is imparted to the tone by the influence of the resonance of the air in the nasal cavities. in order to prove this assertion browne and behnke offer the following experiment, (quoted in substance): "hold a hand-mirror flat, face up, just below the nostrils. then sing a nasal tone; you will note that the mirror is clouded, showing that part of the breath has passed through the nasal cavities. now sing another tone, free from the fault of nasal quality; this time the mirror is not clouded, which proves that no air has passed through the cavities in question." (_voice, song and speech._) this experiment is simplified by other authorities, who direct that the nostrils be pinched by the fingers, and then allowed to open by the removal of the pressure of the fingers. a steady tone is meanwhile to be sung. it will be noted, according to these theorists, that with the nostrils open the tone is nasal, and with the nostrils closed the tone is not nasal. this proves to their satisfaction that a tone passing in whole or in part through the nasal cavities must be nasal in quality. it must be noted here that these experiments are not in any sense convincing. a tone of objectionable nasal quality can be sung equally well with the nostrils either closed or open, and so can a tone free from the nasal quality. in theory, the mechanical prevention of nasal resonance is very simple. it is necessary only to raise the soft palate in singing, and thus to cut off the expired breath from passing into the nasal cavities. most vocal scientists advise that the singer hold the soft palate raised for every tone. practical teachers of singing pay little attention to the theoretical discussions concerning nasal resonance. the overwhelming majority of teachers are firm believers in nasal resonance, and make it an important feature of their methods. they believe that this resonance is the most important factor in giving to the tone its "point," brilliance, and carrying power. so far as instruction in the use of nasal resonance is concerned, teachers owe but little to the mechanical doctrines of vocal science. no voluntary muscular operation has ever been found, by which the air in the nasal cavities can be directly thrown into vibration, and so made to reinforce the tones of the voice. instruction in the management of nasal resonance is therefore similar to that in chest resonance. the teacher describes the sensations experienced by a singer who produces the exact quality of tone desired. use is also made of special vowels and consonants, for (supposedly) acquiring command of nasal resonance. a description of this form of instruction is given in the following chapter. _sounding-board resonance_ the acoustic principle of sounding-board resonance, in its application to the voice, is discussed by several vocal scientists. it is usually treated under two heads: first, the entire body is looked upon as a sounding board, capable of reinforcing the tones of the voice under certain conditions. second, the bones of the chest and of the head are thought to be thrown into vibration, in sympathy with the vibrations of the air in the chest and nasal cavities respectively. the importance attached by howard to the sounding-board resonance of the entire body has already been noticed. aside from the teachers of the howard system, very few masters pay any attention to this feature of vocal reinforcement. those who do so have no difficulty in dealing with the subject. when the singer stands in the position generally considered correct for singing, the body is said to be in the position most favorable for securing the benefits of this form of resonance. for this no special rules or exercises are needed. very little attention is paid, in practical instruction, to the vibrations of the bones of the resonance cavities. each cavity is treated as a whole; the fact is only occasionally mentioned that the bones inclosing the cavities may vibrate, as well as the inclosed air. chapter v empirical materials of modern methods a series of topics included in modern methods is now to be considered, different in scope from the strictly mechanical features of tone-production so far described. it must be apparent to the reader that the present understanding of the muscular processes of singing is not sufficient to furnish a complete method of instruction. this fact is thoroughly appreciated by the teachers of singing. almost without exception they seek to supplement the mechanical doctrines by instruction of an entirely different character. the subjects included in this form of instruction are of several classes. they comprise the manner of emission of the tone, the traditional precepts of the old italian school, the singer's sensations, and the use of certain vowels and consonants for special purposes. _emission and forward placing_ of all the traditional precepts, the one most frequently cited in theoretical treatises on the voice is, "place the tone forward." for this precept it is generally believed that a satisfactory explanation has been found in the accepted doctrine of tone emission. the characteristic effect of perfect singing known as the "forward tone" is thoroughly well known to every lover of singing. in some peculiar way the tone, when perfectly produced, seems to issue directly from the singer's mouth. when we listen to a poorly trained and faulty singer the tones seem to be caught somewhere in the singer's throat. we feel instinctively that if the singer could only lift the voice off the throat, and bring it forward in the mouth, the tones would be greatly improved in character. it is commonly believed that the old masters knew some way in which this can be done. just what means they used for this purpose is not known. but the accepted scientific interpretation of the "forward tone" precept is held by vocal theorists to render the subject perfectly clear. sir morell mackenzie states the correct emission of the tone as one of the three cardinal principles of the vocal action. "the regulation of the force of the blast which strikes against the vocal cords, the placing of these in the most favourable position for the effect which it is desired to produce, and the direction of the vibrating column of air which issues from the larynx are the three elements of artistic production." (_the hygiene of the vocal organs_, london, .) his analysis of the mechanical and acoustic processes involved in emission may be cited as typical of the views of the great majority of vocal scientists. "it (the column of sound) must be projected against the roof of the cavity behind the upper front teeth, from which it rebounds sharply and clearly to the outside." mme. seiler expresses the idea somewhat differently, but the meaning is about the same. "a correct disposition of the tones of the voice consists in causing the air, brought into vibration by the vocal ligaments, to rebound from immediately above the front teeth, where it must be concentrated as much as possible, rebounding thence to form in the mouth continuous vibrations." (_the voice in singing_, phila., .) to the vocal theorists this is no doubt thoroughly convincing and satisfactory. but as a topic of practical instruction in singing this theory of tone emission is utterly valueless. how can the "column of vocalized breath" be voluntarily directed in its passage through the pharynx and mouth? no muscular process has ever been located, by which the singer can influence the course of the expired breath, and direct it to any specific point in the mouth. even if the expired breath does, in perfect singing, take the course described, knowledge of this fact cannot enable the singer to bring this about. the accepted doctrine of tone emission is of no benefit whatever to the teacher of singing. he knows what the "forward tone" is, that is, what it sounds like, just as well no doubt as did the old italian master. but if the latter knew how to enable his pupils to obtain the "forward" character of tone, the modern teacher is to that extent not so well off. in view of the prevailing ignorance of any means for securing the (supposedly) correct emission of tone, intelligible instruction on this topic is hardly to be expected. but the great majority of teachers lay great stress on the need of acquiring the correct emission. the best they can do is to explain the scientific doctrine to their pupils; the students are generally left to find for themselves some way of applying the explanation. in many cases the master tries to assist the student by describing the singer's sensations, experienced when producing a "forward" tone. certain vowels and consonants are usually held to be especially favored by a "forward position," and exercises on these are very widely used for securing a "forward" tone. these exercises are described in a later paragraph. it will be noticed however that this use of vowels is not an application of the theory of "forward emission." the vowel sounds are believed to owe their "forward position" to resonance, while "emission" is purely a matter of direction or focusing of the breath-blast. the whole subject of emission and forward placing is in a very unsatisfactory condition. _the traditional precepts in modern instruction_ so much importance is attached by modern teachers to the traditional precepts of the old school that this subject calls for somewhat lengthy treatment. before discussing the manner in which the precepts are applied in practical instruction, it will be well to review first the interpretations of the precepts offered by different vocal scientists. it must be remarked, in the first place, that no single one of the precepts has ever been satisfactorily explained; that is, no direct means of performing the actions indicated by the precepts has ever been found. if ever the precepts had a definite meaning, considered as specific directions for performing certain actions in a special way, that meaning has been lost. mechanical analysis has not reduced the precepts to a form in which they are of direct value to the modern teacher. that the "forward tone" is interpreted as a reference to the emission of the voice was noted earlier in this chapter. the explanation of the "open throat" precept as a function of mouth-pharynx resonance has also been mentioned. "singing on the breath" is a very perplexing subject for vocal theorists. many authorities assert that this precept describes an effect obtained by the "opposed muscular action" breath-control. (see citation from shakespeare in chapter ii.) but this explanation is hardly satisfactory; if the precept had meant no more than breath-control, it would have been forgotten long ago. the "support of the tone" is mentioned by a large number of theoretical writers on the voice. these writers generally state, in substance, that "the tone must be supported by the breathing muscles of the chest, and not by the throat muscles." (see _the technics of bel canto_, by g. b. lamperti, new york, .) but this explanation is hardly to be considered as a scientific doctrine. every one knows that a tone has no weight, so in the physical sense it can need no support. in short, scientific analysis has thrown no more light on this than any other of the old precepts. notwithstanding the modern teacher's complete ignorance of the mechanical operations which they seem to indicate, the old precepts form a very important feature of instruction in singing. the great majority of teachers cite these precepts constantly, and frequently direct their pupils to "open the throat," to "bring the tone forward," etc. is it to be believed that an intelligent master would use these directions in any occult or cabalistic sense? such a statement is occasionally made by a consistent upholder of the mechanical system of voice culture. paulo guetta, for example, in a recent exhaustive work on the subject, ridicules the use of the old precepts. says this ardent advocate of mechanical instruction in singing: "nowadays alchemy and necromancy awaken nothing but curiosity. how then can one who thinks and reasons admit that an art can be cultivated and sustained by theories extravagant, fantastic, enigmatic, explained and condensed in abstruse phrases and sentences, which not only have no meaning whatever, but even lead one to doubt whether the teacher himself knows what result it is desired to obtain? do you wish a little example? behold! "'press the whole voice against the mask.' 'place the voice in the head.' 'the voice is directed to the nasal cavities.' 'place the voice forward.' "others, with the most austere gravity, will tell you that your voice is too far back, or that you send the voice to the lower teeth, and promise in a few days to place the voice forward, at the upper teeth, or wherever else it should be." (_il canto nel suo mecanismo_, milan, .) this statement is by no means justified. the precepts have a real and definite meaning for the vocal teacher. any one familiar with the highest type of artistic singing must have observed that the singer's "throat seems to be open"; the tones impress the hearer as being in some way "forward in the singer's mouth," and not at the vocal cords; the voice "seems to be supported" somewhere; the tones float out freely on the breath. a harsh and badly produced voice seems to be held in the singer's throat by main force. the critical hearer feels instinctively that such a singer's voice would be greatly improved if the tones could only be supported in a forward position in the mouth, and kept from slipping back into the throat. it seems that this would relieve the throat of the strain of holding the tone; the throat would then be open, and the voice would float out freely on the breath. in short, the traditional precepts describe accurately the most striking points of difference between perfect singing and bad singing, so far as the effect on the listener is concerned. modern teachers are thoroughly familiar with the highest standards of the vocal art; they fully appreciate how well the precepts describe the perfection of singing. through long continued listening to voices, the precepts come to have a very real meaning. it is inevitable therefore that the teacher should try to impart to the pupil this intimate feeling for the voice. true, this acquaintance with the voice is purely empirical; as has just been remarked, no mechanical analysis of this empirical knowledge has ever been successfully made. the modern teacher's apprehension of the meaning of the precepts is only very vaguely connected with a supposed insight into the mechanical processes of tone-production. yet there is nothing vague about the impression made on the teacher in listening to his pupils. on the contrary, every faulty tone impresses the teacher very keenly and definitely as being too far back, or as caught in the throat, or as falling back for lack of support, etc. how could it be expected then, that the teacher should refrain from telling the pupil to correct the faulty production, in the manner so clearly and directly indicated by the tones? but this direct application of the precepts is of absolutely no value in instruction, because of the teacher's ignorance of the mechanical processes supposedly involved. there is after all some justification for guetta's criticism of empirical instruction. it is all very well for the teacher to feel that the pupil's voice is gripped in the throat, and to bid him "open your throat." the pupil may strive ever so earnestly to open his throat, but he does not know how, and the teacher is utterly unable to tell him. all instruction based on the empirical precepts is thus seen to be extremely unsatisfactory. while the precepts convey a very valuable meaning to the teacher, no way has ever been found for translating this meaning into rules for the mechanical management of the vocal organs. recourse is had, to some extent, to a description of the singer's sensations; exercises on special vowels and consonants are also much used, for imparting the ideas embodied in the precepts. both of these topics are now to be considered. _the singer's sensations_ the correct use of the voice awakens in the singer a variety of sensations generally held to be different from those accompanying any incorrect vocal action. one important fact must first be noted regarding the manner in which the singer's sensations are described by various authorities. the use of the voice awakens a wide variety of local sensations, which bear no necessary relation to each other. a singer may, at will, pay entire attention to any one, or to any particular set, of these sensations, and for the time being completely ignore all the others. physiologically considered, the singer's sensations are of two classes,--first, muscular sensations strictly speaking; and second, a sense of tingling or vibration, definitely located usually about the breast bone, and in the front and upper part of the head. _muscular sensations of singing_ it is very difficult to analyze and describe exactly the muscular sensations which accompany any complex action. swimming, diving, dancing, skating,--each awakens a set of extremely vivid muscular feelings; yet to describe these sensations so graphically that they could be felt in imagination by one who had never experienced them actually,--that would be almost impossible. this peculiar aspect of muscular sensations is particularly true as regards the action of singing. while every vocal teacher knows exactly how it feels to sing properly, all descriptions of the singer's muscular sensations are extremely vague. but the vividness of these sensations keeps them constantly before the teacher's mind, and some application of them, in the present state of voice culture, is almost inevitable. the basic sensation of correct singing, as generally described, is a feeling of perfect poise and harmony of the whole body; this is accompanied by a sense of freedom about the throat and jaw, and firm grasp and control of the expiratory muscles. attempts are frequently made to amplify this description, but the results are always very vague. a feeling of "absence of local effort" at the throat is much spoken of, or "perfect relaxation of the vocal muscles." a few specially localized muscular sensations are also much discussed. descriptions of this class however are often so loosely given as to render a definite statement almost impossible. most frequently mentioned are the feeling of "backward pressure in the throat," and of "drinking in the tone," instead of sending it out. then again, the "tone must be felt at the upper front teeth." a feeling as of an "expanded and flexible vocal tube, extending from the base of the lungs to the lips," is also much talked of. "feel that you grow bigger as the tone swells" is about as intelligible as the feeling of "floating jaw." on the whole, the subject of the singer's muscular sensations is usually rather mystifying to the student. _sensations of tingling or vibration_ descriptions of sensations of this class are much more coherent than those just considered. a definite location is given to the feelings, in the chest and in the head. a feeling of trembling in the upper chest is usually held to indicate that the chest cavity is working properly as a resonator. this sensation is therefore the chief reliance of most teachers in "placing" the lower tones, especially for low voices. sensations in the nasal cavities and head are utilized for acquiring control of nasal resonance, for placing the upper notes of the voice, and for "bringing the voice forward." exercises for control of both cavities, on special vowels and consonants, combine the two topics, "vowel position" and sensation. _singing in the mask_ in recent years a method of instruction has been developed in france, which is commonly called by its advocates "singing in the mask." the basic idea of this method is that the singer must imagine his face to be covered by a mask, and must "sing into this mask." this idea may seem rather vague at first; but a few trials will show how easy it is for the singer to persuade himself that he projects his voice into his face. this method goes to the extreme in utilizing the sensations of vibration in the nose and forehead. these sensations are analyzed, localized, and described, down to the most minute detail. while other topics of instruction are included,--breathing, registers, position of tongue, larynx, palate, etc., everything else is subordinated to nasal resonance. "singing in the mask" is of course a purely empirical method, and little has been attempted in the way of justifying it on scientific principles. * * * all instruction based on the singer's sensations is purely empirical, in the meaning ordinarily attached to this word in treatises on vocal science. theoretical works on the voice seldom touch on the subject of sensations, nor do the vocal teachers generally make this subject prominent when speaking of their methods.[ ] [note : an exception to this statement is seen in the recently published book of mme. lilli lehmann, _meine gesangskunst_, berlin, . this famous artist and teacher devotes by far the greater part of her book to a minute analysis and description of the singer's sensations.] sensations occupy a rather peculiar position in modern methods. they are a distinctly subsidiary element of instruction and are seldom raised to the dignity accorded to the mechanical doctrines of vocal management. the use of the singer's sensations, as applied in practical instruction, is almost exclusively interpretive. in the mechanical sense the traditional precepts have no meaning whatever; this is also true of several of the accepted doctrines of vocal science. for example, the precept "support the tone," is absolutely meaningless as a principle of mechanical vocal action. but, when interpreted as referring to a set of sensations experienced by the singer, this precept takes on a very definite meaning. nobody knows what the support of the tone is, but every vocal teacher knows how it feels. in the same way, no means is known for directly throwing the air in the nasal cavities into vibration. but the sensation in the front of the head, which indicates, presumably, the proper action of nasal resonance, is familiar to all teachers. most of the positive materials of modern methods are thus interpreted in terms of sensations. true, the accepted theory of vocal science does not directly countenance this interpretation. the basic principle of modern voice culture is the idea of mechanical vocal management. all instruction is supposed to aim at direct, conscious, and voluntary control of the muscular operations of singing. teachers always impart to their pupils this idea of the mechanical control of the voice. the vocal action is always considered from the mechanical side. even those expressions whose mechanical meaning is vague or unscientific are yet used as referring definitely to muscular actions. the conscious thought of the teacher is always turned to the mechanical idea supposedly conveyed by scientific doctrine and empirical precept. the translation of this idea into a description of sensations is almost always the result of a sub-conscious mental process. it therefore follows that in practical instruction the appeal to sensations is more often indirect than direct. for example, when a student's tones are caught in the throat, the master says explicitly,--"free the tone by opening your throat." the master explains the (supposed) wrong vocal action, and describes how the tone should be produced. incidentally, the master may also tell how and where the tone should be felt. there is also a great deal of instruction based frankly and directly on the singer's sensations. instruction of this type usually takes the form of special exercises on certain vowels and consonants, which are believed to be peculiarly suited for imparting command of particular features of the correct vocal action. the topics generally covered are chest resonance, nasal resonance, open throat, and forward placing of the tone. this form of instruction is held to be referable in some way to scientific principles. the laws of vowel and consonant formation formulated by helmholtz are often cited in proof of the efficacy of exercises of this type. there is also much discussion of the "location" of the tone. but there is little justification for the statement that instruction based on the singer's sensations is scientific in character. a misconception of acoustic principles is evidenced by most of the statements made concerning the use of special vowels and consonants in securing the correct vocal action. the exercises which aim to utilize the singer's sensations in producing particular vowels and consonants are now to be described. _exercises on special vowels and consonants_ of the rules concerning the use of special vowels, probably the most important is that _a_ (as in _far_) is the most favorable vowel for the general purposes of voice training. teachers generally have their pupils sing most of their exercises on this vowel. much attention is paid to the exact pronunciation of the vowel, and fine distinctions are drawn between its various sounds in italian, french, german, and english. the preference for the italian pronunciation is very general. it is claimed for this sound that it helps materially in acquiring command of the "open throat." indeed, a peculiar virtue in this regard is ascribed to the italian vowels generally. no convincing reason has ever been given for this belief. but the usual custom is to "place the voice" on the italian _a_, and then to take up, one at a time, the other italian vowels. the labial consonants, _p_, _b_, _t_, _d_, are believed to have a peculiar influence in securing the "forward position" of the tone. much the same influence is also ascribed to the vowel _oo_, although many authorities consider _i_ (italian) the "most forward" vowel. exercises combining these consonants and vowels are very widely used, on single tones, and on groups of three, four, or five notes. the syllables _boo_, _poo_, _too_, _doo_ are practised, or if the teacher hold to the other "forward" vowel, _bee_, _pee_, _tee_, _dee_; the student is instructed to hold the vowel in the "forward position" secured by the initial consonant. later on, the "forward" vowel is gradually widened into the other vowels; exercises are sung on _boo-ah_, _doo-ah_, etc. this form of instruction is capable of great elaboration. many teachers use a wide variety of combinations of these vowels and consonants; but as the basic idea is always the same, this class of exercises calls for no further description. the singer's sensations, notably those of "open throat," "expanded vocal tube," "forward tone," and vibration in the chest, are generally brought to the pupil's attention in this form of exercise. another set of sounds are held to be specially adapted for securing the use of nasal resonance. these are the letters _m_, _n_, and _ng_, when used for starting a tone, and also the vowel _i_ (italian). the exercises used are similar in character to those just described. in singing these exercises, the student is supposed to "start the tone high up in the head on the initial _m_ or _n_, and to hold it there, while gradually and smoothly opening the mouth for the vowel," etc. the sensations specially noticed in this type of exercise are the feelings of vibration in the nose and forehead. the "forward tone," as well as the nasal resonance, is supposed to be favored by the practice of these exercises. _enunciation_ vocal teachers always recognize the importance of a clear delivery of the text in singing. correct enunciation is therefore considered in all methods. a few teachers believe that a clear pronunciation helps greatly to establish the correct vocal action. some even go so far as to say that a clear delivery of the words will of itself insure a correct tone-production. but this theory calls for only passing comment. one has but to turn to the vaudeville stage to see its falsity. for singers of that class, the words are of the utmost importance, while the tone-production is usually of the very worst. a few teachers base their methods on the theory that correct tone-production results necessarily from the singing of "pure vowels." this is no doubt interesting, but still far from convincing. the problem of tone-production is not solved quite so simply. as a rule, vocal teachers consider the subject of pronunciation as quite distinct from tone-production. methods differ with regard to the use of exercises in articulation, and to the stage of progress at which these exercises are taken up. some teachers insist on their pupils practising singing for months on the vowels, before permitting them to sing even the simplest songs with words. others have the pupils sing words from the beginning of instruction. as a rule, teachers begin to give songs, and vocalises with words, very early in the course. _throat stiffness and relaxing exercises_ teachers of singing generally recognize that any stiffening of the throat interferes with the correct action of the voice. yet for some strange reason vocal students are very much inclined to form habits of throat stiffness. this constantly happens, in spite of the fact that teachers continually warn their pupils against the tendency to stiffen. on this account, exercises for relaxing the throat are an important feature of modern instruction in singing. naturally, relaxing exercises are not thought to have any direct bearing in bringing about the correct vocal action. they are purely preparatory; their purpose is only to bring the vocal organs into the right condition for constructive training. for this reason, the means used for relaxing the throat are seldom mentioned among the materials of instruction. but almost every vocal teacher is obliged to make frequent use of throat relaxing exercises. indeed, throat stiffness is one of the most serious difficulties of modern voice culture. a student frequently seems to be making good progress, and then without much warning falls into a condition of throat stiffness so serious as to undo for a time the good work of several months' study. in such a case there is nothing for the teacher to do but to drop the progressive work, and devote a few lessons to relaxing exercises. little difficulty is usually found in relaxing the throat, when once the necessity becomes strikingly apparent. that is, provided progressive study is dropped for a time, and attention paid solely to relaxing exercises. but such cases are comparatively rare. a much more constant source of trouble is found in the prevailing tendency of vocal students to stiffen their throats, just enough to interfere with the (supposed) application of the teacher's method. the exercises used for relaxing the throat are fairly simple, both in character and scope. they consist mainly of toneless yawning, of single tones "yawned out" on a free exhalation, and of descending scale passages of the same type. although seldom recognized as a coördinate topic of instruction, exercises of this character are usually interspersed among the other materials of vocal methods. chapter vi a general view of modern voice culture all the materials of modern methods have now been described. the subject next to be considered is the manner in which these materials are utilized in practical instruction. in other words, what is a method of voice culture? in the present state of vocal science, the subject of tone-production overshadows everything else in difficulty. when once the correct vocal action has been acquired, the student's progress is assured. every other feature of the singer's education is simply a matter of time and application. but, under present conditions, the acquirement of the correct vocal action is extremely uncertain. on account of its fundamental importance, and more especially of its difficulty, the subject of tone-production is the most prominent topic of instruction in singing. the term "method" is therefore applied solely to the means used for imparting the correct vocal action. this use of the word is in accordance with the accepted theory of voice culture. the general belief is that tone-production is entirely distinct from vocal technique. technical studies cannot profitably be undertaken, according to the prevailing idea, until the correct management of the vocal organs has been established. this idea is supposed to be followed out in modern instruction. it is generally assumed that the voice is brought under control through a definite series of exercises; these exercises are supposed to follow, one after the other, according to a well-defined system. the term "method" implies this systematic arrangement of exercises. it indicates that vocal training is a matter of precise knowledge and orderly progression. this represents the accepted ideal of voice culture, rather than the actual condition. the idea that the vocal management should be imparted specially, as something preliminary to the technical training of the voice, is not carried out in practice. teachers generally are striving to bring their systems into conformity with this ideal standard. they use the expression, "placing the voice," to describe the preliminary training in tone-production. but no successful system of this type has ever been evolved. the correct management of the voice never is imparted in the manner indicated by this ideal of instruction. tone-production continues, throughout the entire course of study, to be the most important topic of instruction. in order to understand the nature of a method of voice culture, it is necessary first to consider the relation which exists, in modern instruction, between training in tone-production, and the development of vocal technique. according to the accepted theory, the voice must be "placed" before the real study of singing is undertaken. after the voice has been properly "placed," it is supposed to be in condition to be developed by practice in singing technical exercises. but in actual practice this distinction between "voice-placing" exercises and technical studies is seldom drawn. the voice is trained, almost from the beginning of the course of study, by practice in actual singing. the earliest exercises used for "placing the voice" are in every respect technical studies,--single tones and syllables, scale passages, arpeggios, etc. it is impossible to produce even a single tone without embodying some feature of technique. practice therefore serves a double purpose; it brings the voice gradually to the condition of perfect action, and at the same time it develops the technique. the student advances gradually toward the correct manner of tone-production, and this progress is evidenced solely by the improved technical use of the voice. considerable technical facility is attained before the tone-production becomes absolutely perfect. a vocal student's practice in singing is not confined to technical exercises, strictly speaking. vocalises, songs, and arias are taken up, usually very early in the course of study. moreover, attention is nearly always paid to musical expression and to artistic rendition, as well as to the vocal action and the technical use of the voice. this is true, whether the student sings an exercise, a vocalise, a song, or an aria. for daily home practice, the student sings, usually, first some exercises, then a few vocalises, and finally several songs and arias. every teacher has at command a wide range of compositions of all these kinds, carefully graded as to technical and musical difficulty. as the pupil advances, more and more difficult works are undertaken. for each stage of advancement the teacher chooses the compositions best adapted to carry the student's progress still further. there is no point in this development at which instruction in tone-production ceases, and the technical training of the voice is begun. on the contrary, the means used for imparting the correct vocal action are interspersed with the other materials of instruction, both technical and artistic, throughout the entire course of study. moreover, the training in tone-production is carried on during the singing of the compositions just described, as well as by practice on "voice-placing" exercises strictly speaking. a method of instruction in singing therefore consists primarily of a set of mechanical rules and directions for managing the voice, and secondarily of a series of exercises, both toneless and vocal, so designed that the student may directly apply in practising them the rules and directions for vocal management. it must not be understood however that the mechanical rules are applied only to the exercises specially designed for this purpose. these rules and directions are also intended to be applied to everything the student sings,--exercises, technical studies, and musical compositions. it will be recalled that the review of the topics of modern vocal instruction covered three distinct types of materials. first, the purely mechanical doctrines, commonly regarded as the only strictly scientific principles of voice culture. these are, the rules for the management of the breath, of the registers, of laryngeal action, and of the resonance cavities, and also the directions for attacking the tone, and for forward emission. the second class of materials is held by strict adherents of the scientific idea to be purely empirical; this class includes the traditional precepts of the old italian school, and also all the topics of instruction based on the singer's sensations. a third class of materials is found in the attempts to interpret the empirical doctrines in the light of the scientific analysis of the vocal action. to enumerate and classify all the methods of instruction in vogue would be almost an impossibility. absolutely no uniformity can be found on any topic. even among the accepted doctrines of vocal science there are many controverted points. five distinct schools of breathing are represented, two of breath-control. of well worked-out systems of registers, at least twenty could be enumerated. fully this number of theories are offered regarding the correct positions of the larynx, soft palate, and tongue. two opposed theories are held as to nasal resonance. further, the empirical doctrines are always stated so loosely that no real unanimity of view can be found on any one of them. every vocal teacher selects the materials of instruction from these controverted doctrines, but neither rule nor reason determines what materials shall be embodied in any one method. there is no coherence whatever in the matter. further, there is no agreement as to which topics of instruction are most important. one teacher may emphasize breath-control and support of tone as the foundations of the correct vocal action, another may give this position to nasal resonance and forward placing. yet both these teachers may include in their methods about the same topics. the methods seem entirely different, only because each makes some one or two doctrines the most important. in short, it might almost be said that there are as many methods as teachers. three fairly distinct types of method may be defined, depending on the class of materials adopted. at one extreme are found those teachers who attempt to follow strictly the scientific principles. these teachers generally profess to employ only the purely mechanical doctrines of vocal science, and to ignore all empirical interpretations of these doctrines. they generally devote a portion of every lesson to toneless muscular drills, and insist that their pupils practise every exercise in singing, with special attention to the throat action. these teachers attempt to follow a definite plan and order in the giving of exercises and rules. this systematic arrangement of instruction is, however, seldom followed out consistently with any one student. an important reason for this is considered in chapter i of part ii. a very different type of method is taught by many teachers who pay special attention to the empirical topics of instruction. of course no teacher professes to teach empirically; on the contrary, every method is called scientific, no matter what materials it embodies. indeed, a very little attention paid to breathing, attack, registers, and nasal resonance, is enough to relieve any teacher of the reproach of empiricism. the teachers now being considered touch to some extent on these topics; but most of their instruction is based on the traditional precepts, the singer's sensations, and the special vowel and consonant drills. in the first few lessons of the course they usually give some special breathing exercises, but almost always ignore breath-control. not much is done for vocal control in the strictly muscular sense. special "voice-placing" exercises are not used to any such extent as in the strictly scientific methods just described, the voice-placing work being usually done on vocalises, songs, and arias. no system whatever is followed, or even attempted, in the sequence of topics touched upon. the directions, "breathe deeper on that phrase," "bring that tone more forward," "open your throat for that _ah_," "feel that tone higher up in the head," may follow one after the other within five minutes of instruction. teachers of this type are frequently charged, by the strict advocates of mechanical instruction, with a practice commonly known as "wearing the voice into place." this expression is used to indicate the total abandonment of system in imparting the correct vocal action. it means that the teacher simply has the pupil sing at random, trusting to chance, or to some vague intuitive process, to bring about the correct use of the voice. to the vocal scientist, "wearing the voice into place" represents the depth of empiricism. the great majority of teachers occupy a middle ground between the two types just described. teachers of this class touch, more or less, on every topic of instruction, mechanical, empirical, and interpretive. their application of most of the topics of instruction is not quite so mechanical as in the first type of method considered. the student's attention is always directed to the vocal organs, but the idea of direct muscular control is not so consistently put forward. as a rule, the attempt is made in the first stages of instruction to follow a systematic plan. breathing, and perhaps breath-control, are first taught as muscular drills, and then applied on single tones. attack is generally taken up next, then simple exercises in the medium register. following this, the chest and head registers are placed, and the attention is turned to emission and resonance. but in most cases, when the pupil has covered three or four terms of twenty lessons each, all system is abandoned. the method from that time on is about of the type described as empirical. it must be remembered that this classification of methods is at best very crude. it would not be easy to pick out any one teacher who adheres consistently to any of the three forms of instruction described. all that can be said is that a teacher usually tends somewhat more to one type than to another. further, the degree of prominence given to the idea of direct mechanical control of the voice does not classify a method quite satisfactorily. without exception every teacher adheres to the prevailing idea, that the voice must be controlled and guided in some direct way,--that the singer "must do something" to cause the vocal organs to operate properly. all the materials of instruction, mechanical and empirical, are utilized for the sole purpose of enabling the student to learn how to "do this something." several names are used by teachers to describe their methods. one professes to teach a "natural method," another the "pure italian school of bel canto," a third the "old italian method as illustrated by vocal science," a fourth the "strict scientific system of voice culture." no attention need be paid to these expressions, as they are seldom accurate descriptions. vocal lessons are usually of thirty minutes' duration. each student generally takes two such lessons every week, although in some cases three, four, or even more are taken. a description of a few typical lessons will show how the materials of instruction are practically utilized. example : the student takes a few preliminary toneless breaths. then follow, in the order given, a few short tones for practice on attack, some sustained tones on the vowel _ah_, exercises on three, four, and five notes, ascending and descending, a single tone followed by the octave jump up and descending scale, this last rising by semitones through several keys. in these exercises the student's attention is directed at random to the correct use of the registers, to nasal resonance, forward emission, etc. this consumes ten or twelve minutes of the lesson time. more elaborate exercises on scale passages are then sung, lasting another five minutes. these are followed by a vocalise or two, and a couple of songs or arias, which fill out the thirty minutes. example : a few breathing exercises are practised, followed by single tones and short scale passages, the whole lasting about five minutes. then the student is drilled for some ten minutes on "placing the head tones," in the manner described in the section on special vowel and consonant drills. these exercises are varied by swelling the high tone, by changing the vowels, and by elaborating the descending scale passages. the remaining fifteen minutes are devoted to vocalises and songs. example : this is an advanced pupil, whose voice is supposed to be fairly well "placed." technical exercises of some difficulty are sung, covering a range of an octave and a half, or a little more. the teacher interrupts occasionally to say "sing those lower notes more in the chest voice," "place the upper notes higher in the head," "don't let your vocal cords open on that ah," "sing that again and make the tones cleaner," etc. one or two arias are then sung, interspersed with instructions of the same sort, and also with suggestions regarding style, delivery, and expression. for daily practice between lessons, the student sings usually the same exercises and studies included in the previous lesson, and also commits to memory compositions assigned for future study. examples of this kind might be multiplied indefinitely, but the main points have been fairly well brought out. most important to be noticed is the fact that the voice is trained by practice in actual singing. in the whole scheme of modern voice culture, toneless muscular drills consume only an insignificant proportion of the time devoted to lessons. further, the number of exercises and musical compositions embraced in a single half-hour lesson is very small. on the other hand, no limit can be set to the number of topics of vocal control touched on in any one lesson. these latter are used, throughout the whole range of instruction, without any systematic sequence. whatever fault of production the pupil's tones indicate, the teacher calls attention to the fault, and gives the supposedly appropriate rule for its correction. part ii a critical analysis of modern methods chapter i mechanical vocal management as the basis of voice culture notwithstanding the wide diversity of opinion on most topics connected with vocal training, there is one point on which all authorities agree. this is, that the voice must be consciously controlled. in all the conflict of methods, this basic mechanical idea has never been attacked. on the contrary, it is everywhere accepted without question as the foundation of all instruction in singing. the idea of mechanical vocal control is also the starting-point of all analysis of the vocal action. every investigator of the voice approaches the subject in the belief that an exact determination of the muscular operations of correct singing would lead to an absolutely infallible method of training voices. the problem of tone-production is identical, in the common belief, with the problem of the vocal action. three sciences, anatomy, mechanics, and acoustics, are believed to hold somewhere among them the secret of the voice. all investigation has therefore been carried on along the lines of these three sciences. it is on this account that modern methods are called scientific, and not because they are in conformity with general scientific principles. before taking up the question whether the idea of mechanical vocal control is well grounded in fact and reason, let us consider further the influence of this idea on modern methods of instruction. all instruction in singing is intended to teach the student to "do something," in order that the vocal organs may be directly caused to act properly. no matter how vague and indefinite the directions given, their aim is always to inform the student what to do, how to guide the vocal action. even when used in a purely empirical way the directions for open throat, etc., are always given in this spirit. that these directions are utterly meaningless in the mechanical sense does not alter the fact; nobody has ever found any other connection in which they would take on a definite meaning. in this regard the empirical directions are no more unsatisfactory than the mechanical doctrines of the accepted vocal science. it was pointed out that no means has ever been discovered for applying several of these doctrines in practical instruction. the rules contained in the theoretical works on voice culture for managing the registers and vocal-cord action, for forward emission of tone, and for control of the resonance cavities, are of no value whatever to the student of singing. it will be asked, how does the conscientious teacher get over this difficulty? how are the deficiencies of the scientific doctrines supplied in instruction? in many cases the deficiency is absolutely ignored. the student is simply told to "make the vocal cords act properly," to "direct the tone against the roof of the mouth," to "bring in the nasal resonance," etc., and no further help is given. that this works severe hardship on the earnest student need hardly be mentioned. other teachers, as has been explained, rely on a description of the singer's sensations, and on the use of several vowel and consonant combinations, for imparting control of resonance and forward emission. these means are purely empirical makeshifts, and as a rule they are not sanctioned by the consistent advocates of scientific instruction. but for acquiring control of the correct vocal-cord action, absolutely no means has ever been found, scientific or empirical. on this, the surpassingly important feature of the vocal action, vocal science has thrown no light whatever. it was also remarked that the strictly scientific idea of voice culture is very seldom carried out, to its logical conclusion, in actual instruction. one important reason for this is that a student seldom remains long enough with a teacher to cover the entire ground of mechanical instruction. students move about from teacher to teacher. in the class of any one master the proportion of pupils who have never had any previous instruction does not average one in ten. to carry the idea of averages further, the length of time a student takes lessons of one instructor may be set down as seldom more than two years. how long it would take to apply the complete system of mechanical vocal training has never been precisely stated. cases are on record of pupils being kept on mechanical drills and elementary exercises for four years, without being allowed to attempt a simple song. but these instances are extremely rare. it seldom happens that a teacher can hold a pupil long enough to carry out the complete course of mechanical study. there are however many teachers who try conscientiously to have their pupils pay attention to all the mechanical features of the vocal action. what it would mean to sing in this way can only be imagined. before starting a tone, the singer would prepare by taking a breath in some prescribed way, and retaining this breath an instant by holding the chest walls out. meanwhile the lips, tongue, soft palate, and larynx would each be placed in the correct position. the jaw would be held relaxed, and the throat loose and open. the expected tone would be felt, in imagination, high up in the head, to assure the proper influence of nasal resonance. the vocal cords would be held in readiness to respond instantly to the mental command, so as to assure the exact state of tension necessary. preparation would be made to direct the "column of vocalized breath," through the pharynx and mouth, to the proper point on the hard palate. then, at the same precise instant, the breath would be started, and the vocal cords would be brought together, but without touching. so the tone would be begun. and all this would have to be done, with due attention to each operation, in the fraction of a second preceding the starting of the tone! the downright absurdity of this idea of singing must be apparent to any one who has ever listened to a great singer. under the influence of the idea of mechanical vocal management there is little room for choice between voice culture along empirical lines, and the accepted type of scientific instruction. modern empirical voice training has little practical value. describing to the student the sensations which ought to be felt, does not help in the least. even if the sensations felt by the singer, in producing tone correctly, are entirely different from those accompanying any incorrect use of the voice, nothing can be learned thereby. the sensations of correct singing cannot be felt until the voice is correctly used. an effect cannot produce its cause. correct tone-production must be there to cause the sensations, or the sensations are not awakened at all. nothing else can bring about the sensations of correct singing, but correct singing itself. further, these sensations cannot be known until they are actually experienced. no description is adequate to enable the student to feel them in imagination. and, finally, even if the sensations could be described with all vividness, imagining them would not influence the vocal organs in any way. this is true, whether the description is given empirically, or whether it is cited to explain a mechanical feature of the vocal action. instruction based on the singer's sensations is absolutely valueless. it would seem that modern methods contain very little of real worth. the investigation of the mechanical operations of the voice can hardly be said to have brought forth anything of definite value to the vocal teacher. but this is not the worst that can be said about the mechanical doctrines of tone-production. when critically examined, and submitted to a rigid scientific analysis, several of these doctrines are found to be erroneous in conception. these are the theories of breath-control, chest resonance, nasal resonance, and emission of tone. it will be observed that these doctrines comprise more than half of the materials of the accepted vocal science. yet notwithstanding the fact that they are accepted without question by the great majority of vocal theorists as important elements of instruction in singing, each of these doctrines involves a distinct misconception of scientific principles. an examination of these doctrines is therefore the next subject to be undertaken. chapter ii the fallacy of the doctrine of breath-control when dr. mandl advanced the statement that the laryngeal muscles are too weak to withstand the pressure of a powerful expiratory blast, the theory of the vocal action therein embodied met with immediate acceptance. this idea is so plausible that it appeals to the thoughtful investigator as self-evident, and seems to call for no proof. the doctrine of breath-control was at once adopted, by the most influential vocal scientists, as the basic principle of tone-production. curiously, neither dr. mandl, nor any other advocate of breath-control, seems to have read an article by sir charles bell dealing with this same action, the closing of the glottis against a powerful exhalation. this paper, "on the organs of the human voice," was read before a meeting of the london philosophical society on february , . dr. bell dispels all the mystery concerning the closure of the glottis, and the holding of the breath against a powerful contraction of the expiratory muscles. he points out that this action occurs in accordance with the law of the distribution of pressure in a fluid body, commonly known as pascal's law of fluid pressures. pascal's law is stated as follows:--"pressure exerted anywhere upon a mass of fluid is transmitted undiminished in all directions, and acts with equal force on all equal surfaces, and in a direction at right angles to those surfaces." (atkinson's _ganot's physics_, th ed., new york, .) the hydraulic press furnishes the familiar illustration of this law. two vertical cylinders, one many times larger than the other, are connected by a pipe. the cylinders are fitted with pistons. both the cylinders, and the pipe connecting them, are filled with water, oil, air, or any other fluid; the fluid can pass freely from one cylinder to the other, through the connecting pipe. suppose a horizontal section of the smaller cylinder to measure one square inch, that of the larger to be one hundred square inches. a weight of one pound on the smaller piston will balance a weight of one hundred pounds on the larger. if a downward pressure of one pound be exerted on the smaller piston, the larger piston will exert an upward pressure of one hundred pounds. conversely, a downward pressure of one hundred pounds, exerted on the larger piston, will effect an upward pressure of only one pound on the smaller piston. a type of the hydraulic press is presented by the chest cavity and the larynx, considered as one apparatus. this fact is illustrated in the following quotation: "if a bladder full of water be connected with a narrow upright glass tube, heavy weights placed on the bladder will be able to uphold only a very small quantity of liquid in the tube, this arrangement being in fact a hydraulic press worked backwards. if the tube be shortened down so as to form simply the neck of the bladder, the total expulsive pressure exerted by the bladder upon the contents of the neck may seem to be very small when compared with the total pressure exerted over the walls of the bladder upon the whole contents." (_a text book of the principles of physics_, alfred daniell, london, .) that the glottis-closing muscles are too weak to withstand a powerful expiratory pressure is therefore an entirely erroneous statement. owing to the small area of the under surfaces of the vocal cords, the air pressure against them is very small, in comparison with the total pressure exerted on the contents of the thorax by the expiratory contraction. the glottis-closing muscles are fully capable of withstanding this comparatively slight pressure. the doctrine of breath-control is therefore scientifically untenable. this doctrine has no place in vocal science. as the basic doctrine of breath-control is unsound, the singer does not need any direct means for controlling the breath. the attempt to check the flow of the breath in any mechanical way is entirely uncalled for. this being the case, it is hardly to be expected that the systems devised to meet this fancied need would stand the test of scientific examination. each of these systems of breath-control, opposed muscular action and ventricular, is in fact found on analysis to embody a misconception of scientific principles. _opposed-action breath-control_ a curious misapprehension of mechanical processes is contained in the doctrine of breath-control by opposed muscular action. this can best be pointed out by a consideration of the forces brought to bear on a single rib in the acts of inspiration and expiration. one set of muscles contract to raise this rib in inspiration, an opposed set, by their contraction, lower the rib for the act of expiration. in the opposed-action system of breath-control, the action of the rib-raising muscles is continued throughout the expiration, as a check upon the pull in the opposite direction of the rib-lowering muscles. theoretically, the downward pull is "controlled" by the upward pull. to express this idea in figures, let the expiratory or downward pull on the rib be said to involve the expenditure of five units of strength. according to the theory of opposed-action breath-control, this downward pull would have to be opposed by a slightly less upward pull, say four units of strength. thus graphically presented, the fallacy of the "opposed-muscular" theory is clearly exposed. the rib is lowered with a degree of strength equal to the excess of the downward over the upward pull. if the downward pull equals five units of strength, and the upward pull four units, the rib is lowered with a pull equivalent to one unit of strength. exactly the same effect would be obtained if the downward and upward pulls were equal respectively to twenty and nineteen units, or to two and one units. further, the result would be the same if the downward pull involved the exertion of one unit of strength, and there was no upward pull whatever. in every case, the actual result is equivalent to the excess of the downward over the upward pull. in the case of the expiratory pressure of five units of strength being "controlled" by an inspiratory contraction of four units, nine units of strength are exerted, and the same result could be obtained by the exertion of one unit. there is a clear waste of eight units of strength. the power of the expiratory blast is just what it would be if one unit of strength were exerted in an "uncontrolled" expiration. the singer exerts just nine times as much strength as is necessary to effect the same result. this is why the practice of breath-control exercises is so extremely fatiguing. so far as the effect of the expiratory blast on the vocal cords is concerned, "controlling" the breath has no influence whatever. the vocal cords respond to the effective air pressure; they are not affected in any way by the opposed contractions of the breath muscles. "opposed-muscular" breath-control is a sheer waste of time and effort. probably no particular harm has ever resulted to any singer's throat from the practice of breath-control exercises. but the attempt to hold back the breath has a very bad effect on the singer's delivery. the "breath-control" type of singer is never found in the ranks of the great artists. there is something utterly unnatural about this holding back of the breath, repugnant to every singer endowed with the right idea of forceful and dramatic delivery. the vast majority of the successful pupils of "breath-control" teachers abandon, very early in their careers, the tiresome attempt to hold back the breath. these singers yield, probably unconsciously, to the instinctive impulse to sing freely and without constraint. but in the ranks of the minor concert and church singers are many who try conscientiously to obey the instructions of the "breath-control" teachers. singers of this type can always be recognized by a curious impression of hesitancy, or even timidity, conveyed by their tones. they seem afraid to deliver their phrases with vigor and energy; they do not "let their voices out." frequently their voices are of excellent quality, and their singing is polished and refined. but these singers never give to the listener that sense of satisfaction which is felt on hearing a fine voice freely and generously delivered. as for the particular fallacy contained in the theory of ventricular breath-control, that must be reserved for a later chapter. suffice it to say here that this theory disregards the two basic mechanical principles of tone-production,--pascal's law, and the law of the conservation of energy. the application of this latter physical law to the operations of the vocal organs is considered in chapter vi of part iii. chapter iii the fallacies of forward emission, chest resonance, and nasal resonance sir morell mackenzie's analysis of the acoustic principle supposedly involved in "forward emission" has already been quoted. that this analysis involves a complete misunderstanding of the laws of acoustics need hardly be said. when stated in precise terms, the fallacy of the "forward emission" theory is evident: "on issuing from the vocal cords the tone is directed in a curved path, around the back of the tongue. there the tone is straightened out, and made to impinge on the roof of the mouth at a precisely defined point. from this point the tone is reflected, not directly back, as it should be, since the angles of incidence and reflection must be equal. instead of this, the tone is reflected forward, out of the mouth, necessarily again taking a curved path, to avoid striking the front teeth." naturally, no muscular action has ever been defined for causing the tone to perform this remarkable feat. the "forward emission" theory assumes the existence of a current of air, issuing from the vocal cords as a tone. in other words, the tone is supposed to consist of a stream of air, which can be voluntarily directed in the mouth, and aimed at some precise point on the roof of the mouth. this is an utter mistake. there is no "column of vibrating air," or "stream of vocalized breath," in the mouth during tone-production. in the acoustic sense, the air in the mouth-pharynx is still air, not air in a current. the only motion which takes place in the air in this cavity is the oscillatory swing of the air particles. to imagine the directing of air vibrations in the mouth, as we direct a stream of water out of a hose, is absurd. what then is the "forward tone"? there must be some reason for this well-known effect of a perfectly produced voice,--the impression made on the hearer that the tones are formed in the front of the mouth. there ought also to be some way for the singer to learn to produce tones of this character. a consideration of this feature of the vocal action is reserved for chapter iv of part iii. _chest resonance_ who was originally responsible for the doctrine of chest resonance, it would be impossible now to determine. were it not for the fact of this doctrine having received the support of eminent scientists (holmes, mackenzie, curtis, and many others), it might be looked upon as a mere figure of speech. that the tones of the voice are reinforced by the resonance of the air in the chest cavity, is an utter absurdity. in the acoustic sense, the thorax is not a cavity at all. the thorax is filled with the spongy tissue of the lungs, not to mention the heart. it is no better adapted for air resonance than an ordinary spherical resonator would be, if filled with wet sponges. _nasal resonance_ enough was said of the theories of nasal resonance in chapter iv of part i to show the unscientific character of all these theories. it remains only to point out the misconception of acoustic principles, contained in all the discussions of the subject. this is very much the same as in the theory of "forward emission," viz., that the tones of the voice consist physically of a "stream of vocalized breath." the mistaken idea is, that nasal resonance results from part or all of the expired breath passing through the nose. what is nasal resonance? how is it caused? what is its effect on the tones of the voice? these questions have never been answered. it can however be proved that a satisfactory science of voice culture is not in any way dependent on obtaining an answer to these questions. this much is definitely known: . if the resonance of the air in the nasal cavities exerts any influence on the tones of the voice, this influence cannot be increased, diminished, or prevented by any direct action on the part of the singer. shutting off the entrance of the breath, by raising the soft palate, is possible as a muscular exercise. but it is impossible to perform this action, and to sing artistically, at the same time. to produce any kind of tone, while holding the soft palate raised, is extremely difficult. in a later chapter it will be seen that this action has no place whatever in the correct use of the voice. . as the nasal cavities are fixed in size and shape, the singer cannot control or vary any influence which they may exert as a resonator. . independent of any thought or knowledge of how the nasal quality of tone is caused, the singer has perfect voluntary control over this quality by the simple, direct influence of the will. a singer may produce nasal tones, or tones free from this faulty sound, at will, with no thought of the mechanical processes involved. all that is required is that the singer have an ear keen enough to recognize the nasal quality in his own voice, as well as in the voice of any other singer. chapter iv the futility of the materials of modern methods of the strictly scientific or mechanical materials of modern methods, four have been seen to be utterly erroneous. the remaining topics of instruction, mechanical and empirical, may with equal justice be submitted to a similar examination. several of these topics have already been critically examined. the rules for registers and laryngeal management were seen to be of no value to the student of singing. so also was it observed that all instruction which attempts to utilize the singer's sensations is futile. all that is left of the materials of modern methods, in which any valuable idea might be contained, are the rules for breathing. without undertaking to decide whether one system of breathing can be right, to the exclusion of all other systems, one general remark can be applied to the whole subject. it has never been scientifically proved that the correct use of the voice depends in any way on the mastery of an acquired system of breathing. true, this is the basic assumption of all the discussions of the singer's breathing. as frangçon-davies justly remarks,--"all combatants are agreed on one point, viz., that the singer's breath is an acquired one of some kind." (_the singing of the future_, david frangçon-davies, m.a., london, .) this is purely an assumption on the part of the vocal theorists. no one has ever so much as attempted to offer scientific proof of the statement. further, it is frequently stated that the old italian masters paid much attention to the subject of breathing; the assumption is also made that these masters approached the subject in the modern spirit. neither this statement, nor the assumption based on it, is susceptible of proof. tosi and mancini do not even mention the subject of breathing. breathing has been made the subject of exhaustive mechanical and muscular analysis, for one reason, and for only one reason. this is, because the action of breathing is the only mechanical feature of singing which can be exhaustively studied. the laryngeal action is hidden; the influence of the resonance cavities cannot well be determined. but the whole muscular operation of breathing can be readily seen and studied; any investigator can personally experiment with every conceivable system. furthermore, the adoption of any system of breathing has no influence whatever on the operations of the voice. a student of singing may learn to take breath in any way favored by the instructor; the manner of tone-production is not in the least affected. even if the correct use of the voice has to be acquired, the mode of breathing does not contribute in any way to this result. all that need be said in criticism of the various doctrines of breathing is, that the importance of this subject has been greatly overestimated. breath and life are practically synonymous. nothing but the prevalence of the mechanical idea has caused so much attention to be paid to the singer's breathing. a tuba player will march for several hours in a street parade, carrying his heavy instrument, and playing it fully half the time; yet the vocal theorist does not consider him an object of sympathy. no doubt the acquirement of healthy habits of breathing is of great benefit to the general health. but this does not prove that correct singing demands some kind of breathing inherently different from ordinary life. to inspire quickly and exhale the breath slowly is not an acquired ability; it is the action of ordinary speech. singing demands that the lungs be filled more quickly than in ordinary speech, and perhaps a fuller inspiration is also required. this is readily mastered with very little practice. it does not call for the acquirement of any new muscular movements, nor the formation of any new habits. what is left of all the materials of modern vocal instruction? to sum them up in the order in which they were considered in part i: breathing does not need to be mastered in any such way as is stated in the theoretical works on the voice. breath-control is a complete fallacy. the doctrines of registers and laryngeal action are utterly valueless. chest resonance, nasal resonance, and forward emission, are scientifically erroneous. the traditional precepts are of no value, because nobody knows how to follow or apply them. empirical teaching based on the singer's sensations is of no avail. in other words, modern methods contain not one single topic of any value whatever in the training of the voice. it will be objected that this statement is utterly absurd, because many of the world's greatest singers have been trained according to these methods. no doubt this is in one sense true; modern methods can point to many brilliant successes. but this does not prove anything in favor of the materials of modern methods. singers are trained to-day exactly as they were trained two hundred years ago, through a reliance on the imitative faculty. the only difference is this: in the old days, the student was directly and expressly told to listen and to imitate, while to-day the reliance on the imitative faculty is purely instinctive. a fuller consideration of the important function of imitation as an unrecognized element of modern voice culture is contained in chapter v of part iv. chapter v the error of the theory of mechanical vocal management a fundamental difference was pointed out, at the close of the preceding chapter, between the old italian method and modern systems of vocal instruction. this is worthy of repetition. the old italian method was founded on the faculty of imitation. modern methods have as their basis the idea of conscious, direct, mechanical control of the vocal organs. all the materials of instruction based on this idea of mechanical control were seen to be absolutely valueless. it is now in order to examine still further the structure of modern voice culture, and to test this basic idea of mechanical control. as a muscular operation, the actions of singing must be subject to the same physiological and psychological laws which govern all other voluntary muscular actions. what are these laws? how do we guide and control our muscular movements? at first sight, this seems a simple question. we know what we want to do, and we do it. but the important point is, how are we able to do the things we want to do? you wish to raise your hand, for example, therefore you raise it. how does your hand know that you wish to raise it? does the hand raise itself? not at all; it is raised by the contraction of certain muscles in the arm, shoulder, and back. that is, when you wish to raise your hand, certain muscles contract themselves. but these muscles are not part of the hand. what leads these muscles in the shoulder and back to contract, when you will to raise your hand? normally you are not even aware of their contraction. yet in some way these muscles know that they are called on to contract, in response to the wish to raise the hand. this takes place, even though you know nothing whatever of the muscles in question. the process is by no means so simple, when looked at in this light. a complicated psychological process is involved in the simplest voluntary movements. this is seen in the following analysis: "to move any part of the body voluntarily requires the following particulars: ( ) the possession of an educated reflex-motor mechanism, under the control of the higher cerebral centers which are most immediately connected with the phenomena of consciousness; ( ) certain _motifs_ in the form of conscious feelings that have a tone of pleasure or pain, and so impel the mind to secure such bodily conditions as will continue or increase the one, and discontinue or diminish the other; ( ) ideas of motions and positions of the bodily members, which previous experience has taught us answer more or less perfectly to the _motifs_ of conscious feeling; ( ) a conscious fiat of will, settling the question, as it were, which of these ideas shall be realized in the motions achieved and positions attained by these members; ( ) a central nervous mechanism, which serves as the organ of relation between this act of will and the discharge of the requisite motor impulses along their nerve-tracts to the groups of muscles peripherally situated." (_elements of physiological psychology_, geo. t. ladd, new york, .) let us again consider the action of raising the hand, and see how the psychological analysis applies in this movement. we note in the first place that we are concerned only with the third, fourth, and fifth particulars of prof. ladd's analysis. these are: the idea of the movement. the fiat of will which directs that this movement be performed. the discharge of the requisite motor impulses, along the nerve-tracts, to the muscles whose contraction constitutes the movement. it will be simpler, and will answer the purpose equally well, to combine the third and fourth elements, and to consider as one element the idea of the movement and the fiat of will to execute the movement. _the idea of a movement_ the mental picture of a purposed movement is simple and direct. no reference is involved to the muscles concerned in the performance of the movement. when you will to raise your hand, the action is pictured to your mind as the raising of the hand, and nothing more. certain muscles are to be contracted. but the mental picture of the movement does not indicate what these muscles are, in what order they are to be brought into play, nor the relative degrees of strength to be exerted by each muscular fiber. you do not consciously direct the muscles in their contractions. _the discharge to the muscles of the nerve impulse_ how then are the muscles informed that their contraction is called for? they have no independent volition; each muscular fiber obeys the impulse transmitted to it by the nerve, from the nerve center governing its action. these nerve centers are in their turn controlled by the central nervous mechanism. and in complex voluntary movements the central nervous mechanism is under the control of the higher cerebral centers. the wish to raise the hand appears to the mind as an idea of the hand being raised. this idea is translated by the central nervous mechanism into a set of motor nerve impulses. does consciousness or volition come into play here? not at all. on this point prof. ladd remarks: "as to the definite nature of the physical basis which underlies the connection of ideas of motion and the starting outward of the right motor impulses, our ignorance is almost complete." is it necessary for the performance of a complex muscular action that the individual know what muscles are involved and how and when to contract them? no; this knowledge is not only unnecessary, it is even impossible. prof. ladd says of this: "it would be a great mistake to regard the mind as having before it the cerebral machinery, all nicely laid out, together with the acquired art of selecting and touching the right nervous elements in order to produce the desired motion, as a skilful player of the piano handles his keyboard." how then are the muscles informed of the service required of them? or more precisely, how does the central nervous mechanism know what distribution of nerve impulses to make among the different nerve centers governing the muscles? as prof. ladd says, our ignorance on this point is almost complete. there resides in the central nervous mechanism governing the muscles something which for lack of a better name may be called an instinct. when a purposeful movement of any part of the body is willed, the mental picture of the movement is translated by the central nervous mechanism into a succession of nerve impulses; these impulses are transmitted through the lower centers to the muscles. the instinct informing the central nervous mechanism how to apportion the discharges of nerve impulse among the various muscular centers is to a high degree mysterious. the present purpose will not be served by carrying the analysis of this instinct further.[ ] [note : the evolutionary development of this instinct is not altogether mysterious. science can fairly well trace the successive steps in the development of the central nervous mechanism, from the amoeba to the highest type of vertebrate. "nerve channels" are worn by the repeated transmission of impulses over the same tracts. coördinations become in successive generations more complex and more perfect. as consciousness develops further, in each succeeding type, actions originally reflex tend to take on a more consciously purposeful character. but all we are concerned with now is the problem of tone-production. our purpose is best served by accepting the faculty of muscular adaptation as an instinct, pure and simple.] there is therefore no direct conscious guidance of the muscles, in any movement, simple or complex. so far as the command of voluntary muscular actions is concerned, the first simple statement of the process sums up all that for practical purposes need be determined;--we know what we want to do, and we do it. the mind forms the idea of an action and the muscles instinctively respond. but the fact remains that the muscles need to be guided in some way. we do not perform instinctively many complex actions,--writing, dancing, rowing, swimming, etc. all these actions, and indeed most of the activities of daily life, must be consciously learned by practice and repeated effort. how are these efforts guided? to arrive at an answer to this question let us consider how a schoolboy practises his writing lesson. the boy begins by having before him a copy of the letters he is to write. under the guidance of the eye the hand traces these letters. at each instant the eye points out to the hand the direction in which to move. as the hand occasionally wanders from the prescribed direction the eye immediately notes the deviation and bids the hand to correct it. the hand responds to the demands of the eye, immediately, without thought on the boy's part of nerve impulse or of muscular contraction. by repeated efforts the boy improves upon his first clumsy attempts; with each repetition he approaches nearer to the model. in the course of this progress the muscular sense gradually comes to the assistance of the eye as a sort of supplementary guidance. but at no time is the eye relieved of the responsibility of guiding the hand in writing. to sum this up, the movements of the hand in writing are guided, so far as the consciousness is aware, directly by the sense of sight. we have here the law of voluntary muscular guidance. in all voluntary movements the muscles are guided in their contractions, through some instinctive process, by the sense or senses which observe the movements themselves, and more especially, the results of the movements. in most actions the two senses concerned are sight and muscular sense. the more an action becomes habitual the more it tends to be performed under the guidance of muscular sense, and to be free from the necessity of the guidance of the eye. but muscular sense does not usually rise so high into consciousness as sight, in the guidance of muscular activities. many oft-repeated movements, especially those of walking, become thoroughly habitual and even automatic; that is, the muscular contractions are performed as purely reflex actions, without conscious guidance of any kind. but even in walking, the necessity may at any instant arise for conscious guidance. in such a case the sense of sight immediately comes into service; from reflex the movements become voluntary, and consciously guided. in the case of most complex actions the sense of sight furnishes the most important guidance. if the muscular operations of singing are subject to the general laws of psychological control, the guidance of the vocal organs must be furnished by the sense which observes the results of the movements involved. this is the sense of hearing. just as in writing the hand is guided by the eye, so in singing the voice is guided by the ear. there can be no other means of guiding the voice. muscular sense may under certain conditions supplement the sense of hearing, but under no circumstances can muscular sense assume full command. the net result of the application of psychological principles to the problem of tone-production is simply this, that the voice is guided directly by the ear. it is thus seen that the idea of mechanical vocal management is utterly erroneous. on pushing the analysis still further the fallacy of this idea is found to be even more glaring. is a knowledge of anatomy of any assistance in the acquirement of skill in performing complex muscular actions? not in the least. an understanding of muscular processes does not contribute in any way to skilful execution. the anatomist does not play billiards or row a boat one whit the better for all his knowledge of the muscular structure of the body. even if the precise workings of the vocal mechanism could be determined, the science of voice culture would not benefit thereby. knowing how the muscles should act does not help us to make them act properly. it is utterly idle to tell the vocal student that as the pitch of the voice rises the arytenoid cartilages rotate, bringing their forward surfaces together, and so shortening the effective length of the vocal cords. whatever the vocal cords are required to do is performed through an instinctive obedience to the demands of the mental ear. and finally, a precise analysis of muscular contractions is impossible, even in the case of comparatively simple actions. when, for example, the hand describes a circle in the air, a number of muscles are involved. true, it is known what these muscles are, and what effect the combined contractions of any group would have on the position of the hand. the direction of the hand's motion at any instant is determined by the resultant of all the forces exerted on this member. but as this direction constantly changes, so must the relative degrees of strength exerted by the muscles also constantly change. at no two successive instants are the muscular adjustments the same. this simple action, performed without thought or knowledge of the muscular processes, presents features too complex to be analyzed on the basis of mechanical law and anatomic structure. a complete analysis of the muscular operations of tone-production is absolutely impossible. the adjustments of the laryngeal muscles involve probably the most minute variations in degree of contraction performed in the whole voluntary muscular system. what we do know of the mechanical operations of the voice is exceedingly interesting, and a further knowledge of the subject is greatly to be desired. but we can never hope to clear up all the mystery of the vocal action. this statement must not be construed to mean that the study of the vocal mechanism has been devoid of valuable results. on the contrary, the present understanding of the mechanical operations of the voice will be found of very great value in erecting a true science of voice culture. the only weakness of the present results of vocal investigation is due to the fact that this investigation has always been carried on under the influence of the idea of mechanical vocal management. this influence has led all theoretical students of the subject to attempt to apply their knowledge in formulating rules for direct mechanical guidance of the voice. that these rules are valueless is due solely to the fundamental error involved in the mechanical idea. voice culture must be turned from the idea of mechanical vocal management. the old italian masters were right in that they relied, even though empirically, on the imitative faculty. modern teachers may do better, for in the light of present knowledge reliance on the faculty of vocal imitation can be shown to be in strict accord with sound scientific principles. part iii the basis of a real science of voice chapter i the means of empirical observation of the voice to all knowledge obtained through the observation of facts and phenomena, the term empirical is properly applied. empirical knowledge must be the basis of every science. to be available in forming a science, empirical knowledge of a subject must be so carefully gathered that all probability of error is eliminated; the observations must be so exhaustive as to embrace every possible source of information. from the knowledge thus obtained a set of verified general rules must be worked out with which all the observed facts and phenomena are shown to be in accord. then a science has been erected. there is no possibility of conflict between empirical and scientific knowledge. the discovery of a single fact, at variance with the supposed general laws bearing on any subject, is sufficient to overthrow the entire structure which had been accepted as a science. in the accepted vocal science the terms empirical and scientific are used in a sense entirely different from that which properly attaches to these words. present knowledge of the operations of the voice is called scientific, solely because it is derived from the sciences of anatomy, acoustics, and mechanics. the term "empirical knowledge of the voice" is used as a name for knowledge of the subject drawn from any source other than these sciences. yet so far as the modern vocal world seems to be aware, it possesses no knowledge of the voice other than that commonly called scientific. it is supposed that the old italian masters had some "empirical understanding of the voice." but, if this was the case, their empirical knowledge has apparently been utterly lost. thus far in the present work, the usage of the terms empirical and scientific, accepted by vocal theorists generally, has been adopted. a distinction has been drawn between knowledge of the voice obtained through the study of the vocal mechanism and that obtained through observation of any other kind. the purpose will best be served by continuing this same usage. it must be apparent to the reader, from the analysis of modern methods, that no real science of voice has thus far been erected. this is due to the fact that the general principles of scientific investigation have not been applied to the study of the voice. under the influence of the idea of mechanical vocal management the attention of all investigators has been turned exclusively to the mechanical features of tone-production. meanwhile the empirical knowledge of the old masters seems to have been forgotten. as a matter of fact, as will now be seen, this empirical knowledge has never been lost. every modern teacher of singing shares the empirical knowledge which formed the sole material of the old method. but this knowledge is not applied effectually in modern instruction for two reasons. first, modern teachers do not realize the importance of this knowledge; indeed, they are practically unaware of this valuable possession. although in fact the basis of nearly all modern instruction in singing, empirical knowledge is always unconsciously used. second, empirical knowledge is always applied in the prevailing mechanical spirit. the attempt is always made to translate the sub-conscious empirical understanding of the voice into rules for direct mechanical management. under the influence of the mechanical idea the modern teacher's most valuable possession, empirical knowledge of the voice, becomes utterly unserviceable. thus far, the whole result of this work has been destructive. the accepted vocal science has been shown to be erroneous in its conception and unsound in its conclusions. the work cannot halt here. vocal science must be reconstructed. this can be done only by following the general plan of all scientific investigation, beginning with the observation of all ascertainable facts bearing on the voice. how can any facts be observed about the voice other than by the study of the vocal mechanism? an answer to this question is at once suggested so soon as scientific principles are applied to the subject. strictly speaking, the voice is a set of sounds, produced by the action of the vocal organs. the scientific method of inquiry is therefore to begin by observing these sounds. sounds as such can be observed only by the sense of hearing. it follows then that the attentive listening to voices is the first step to be taken. can any empirical knowledge of the voice be obtained by the mere listening to voices? if so, we ought now to be in possession of any facts which might be thus observed. is it possible that information of this character is already a common possession of the vocal world, and yet that this information has never been applied in the investigation of the voice? this is exactly the case. many facts regarding the voice have been observed so continually that they are a matter of common knowledge, and yet these facts have never been recorded in a scientific manner. consider, for example, this remark about a famous singer, made by one of the foremost musical critics of the united states: "mme. t---- 's lower medium notes were all sung with a pinched glottis." how did this critic know that the singer had pinched her glottis? he had no opportunity of examining her throat with the laryngoscope, nor of observing her throat action in any other way. in fact, the critic was seated probably seventy-five feet from the artist at the time the tones in question were sung. the critic had only one means of knowing anything about the singer's throat action, and that was contained in the sound of the tones. there must therefore have been something in the sound of the tones which conveyed this information to the critical listener. for many years this gentleman had been in the habit of listening closely to singers, and he had found some way of estimating the singer's throat action by the character of the tones produced. this same means of judging the manner of production from the sound of the tones seems to have been utilized nearly two hundred years ago. speaking of the most frequent faults of tone-production, tosi remarks: "the voice of the scholar should always come forth neat and clear, without passing through the nose or being choked in the throat." mancini also speaks of the faults of nasal and throaty voice: "un cantare di gola e di naso." a throaty tone, therefore, impressed these writers as being in some way formed or caught in the singer's throat. it may be set down as certain that no pupil ever explained to either of these masters how the objectionable sounds were produced. how then did tosi and mancini know the manner in which a throaty tone is produced? we need not go back to the early writers to find out what is meant by a throaty tone. fully as many throaty singers are heard nowadays as the old masters ever listened to. what do we mean when we say that a singer's voice is throaty? the answer to this question seems at first sight simple enough: the tones impress us as being formed in the singer's throat. but what conveys this impression? something in the sound of the tone, of course. yet even that is not enough. how can a tone, merely a sound to which we listen, tell us anything about the condition of the singer's throat during the production of the tone? here again the answer seems simple: the listener knows that, in order to produce a tone of like character, he would have to contract his own throat in some way. here we have a highly significant fact about the voice. on hearing a throaty tone, the listener can tell how this tone is produced; he feels that he would have to contract his own throat in order to produce a similar tone. let us carry this discussion a little further. how does the listener know this? certainly not by actually singing a throaty tone. when seated in a concert hall, for example, and listening to a throaty singer, the hearer cannot rise from his seat, sing a few throaty tones himself, and then note how his throat feels. the critic just mentioned did not sing some notes with "pinched glottis" in order to learn how mme. t---- sang her low tones. evidently it is not necessary actually to imitate the singer; the hearer gets the same result by imitating the sounds mentally. in other words, when we hear throaty tones we mentally imitate these tones; thus we know that we should have to contract our own throats in order to produce similar tones. but even here we cannot stop. to imitate the singer actually is one thing; mental imitation is something entirely different. in the first case, actual imitation, our muscular sense would inform us of the state of throat tightening. but in the case of mental imitation there is no actual tightening of the throat, nothing, at any rate, comparable to what takes place in actual imitation. there is then a dual function of the imagination; first, the mental imitation of the sound; second, the imaginary tightening of the throat. the analysis of the mental process must therefore be modified, and stated as follows: when we listen to a throaty tone we mentally imitate the tone; an imaginative function of the muscular sense informs us what condition the singer's throat assumes for the production of the tone. a similar operation takes place in listening to nasal voices. an impression is conveyed by a nasal tone, through which the hearer is informed of a condition of tightness or contraction somewhere in the singer's nose. the terms applied to the two most marked forms of faulty tone-production, nasal and throaty, are derived from impressions conveyed by the sounds of the tones. these names, nasal and throaty, refer to a feeling of tightness or contraction experienced in imagination by the hearer; in one case this feeling is located in the nose, in the other, in the throat. but the terms nasal and throaty are general descriptions of faulty tones. each one covers a wide range of tone qualities. there is an almost infinite variety of throaty tones, and of nasal sounds as well. the knowledge of the voice obtained by listening to vocal tones is of equally wide extent. every throaty tone, whatever its precise character, informs the hearer of the exact condition of the singer's throat in producing the tone. in short, every vocal tone is thus analyzed by the critical listener, and referred in imagination to his own throat. an insight into the singer's vocal action is imparted to the hearer through an imaginative process which always, of necessity, accompanies the attentive listening to vocal tones. every vocal tone awakens in the hearer a set of imagined muscular sensations. these sensations furnish the means for an exhaustive analysis of the operations of the voice. the production of tone therefore awakens two sets of muscular sensations, one actually felt by the singer, the other felt in imagination by the listener. the former are commonly known as the "singer's sensations"; but, as will be explained later, this expression is often very loosely applied. it is advisable on this account to give a new name to the singer's sensations, and also to give a name to the muscular sensations awakened in the hearer. let us therefore call the sensations experienced by the singer in the production of tone the "direct sensations of tone." to the imaginary sensations of the hearer let us give the name, the "sympathetic sensations of tone." these two terms will be used throughout the remainder of this work in the meanings here given to them. direct sensations of tone are the sensations actually felt by the singer as a result of the exercise of the vocal organs. sympathetic sensations of tone are the muscular sensations experienced in imagination by the hearer as a result of the listening to the tones of voices other than his own. chapter ii sympathetic sensations of vocal tone a peculiar relation of sympathy exists between the human voice and the human ear. so intimate is this relation that the two might almost be considered as forming one complete organ. one aspect of this relation has already been noted, the guidance of the vocal organs by the sense of hearing. there is now to be considered another feature of this relation between voice and ear,--the assistance rendered by the vocal organs to the sense of hearing. that a sub-conscious adjustment of the vocal organs may supplement the sense of hearing in the estimation of pitch is mentioned by prof. ladd. speaking of the ability, by no means uncommon, to tell the pitch of any musical note heard, prof. ladd says: "such judgment, however, may be, and ordinarily is, much assisted by auxiliary discriminations of other sensations which blend with those of the musical tone. among such secondary helps the most important are the muscular sensations which accompany the innervation of the larynx and other organs used in producing musical tones. for we ordinarily innervate these organs (at least in an inchoate and partial way)--that is, we sound the note to ourselves--when trying carefully to judge of its pitch." (_elements of physiological psychology._) much more important in the study of the problem of tone-production are the adjustments of the hearer's vocal organs which were named the sympathetic sensations of tone. this peculiar auxiliary to the sense of hearing calls for the closest attention. sympathetic sensations of tone are awakened in the hearer through the mere listening to the sounds of the human voice. vocal tones impress the listener's ear in a manner entirely different from any other sounds. not only are the tones of the voice heard, just as other sounds are heard; in addition to this, every vocal tone heard is mentally imitated, and this mental reproduction of the tone is referred in imagination to the hearer's own vocal organs. besides hearing the vocal tone as a sound pure and simple, the listener is also informed of the manner of throat action by which the tone is produced. this mental imitation and judgment of vocal tones is not a voluntary operation. on the contrary it cannot even be inhibited. it is impossible for us to listen to the voices of those about us, even in ordinary conversation, without being to some extent aware of the various modes of tone-production. this idea of the mental imitation of voices may impress us at first as highly mysterious. sympathetic sensations of tone have been felt and noted, probably ever since the human voice and the human ear were developed. yet the process is purely sub-conscious. it is performed involuntarily, without thought on the part of the hearer, even without any consciousness of the process. the hearer simply knows how the voices to which he listens are produced. a throaty voice simply sounds throaty; the hearer feels this, and pays no attention to the source of the information. we take it as a matter of course that a nasal voice seems to come through the speaker's nose. why a certain quality of sound gives this impression we never stop to inquire. the impressions of throat action conveyed by other people's voices seem so simple and direct that nobody appears to have thought to analyze the psychological process involved. this psychological process is found on analysis to be highly complex. in addition to the actual physical exercise of the sense of hearing, three distinct operations are performed in imagination. these are the mental imitation of the tone, the imagined adjustments of the vocal organs, and the imaginative exercise of the muscular sense. although simultaneously performed, each of these four operations may be considered separately. _hearing_ as the judgment of vocal tones by sympathetic sensations is purely a function of the sense of hearing, the keenness of these sensations varies in each individual in proportion to the keenness of the ear. it would be a great mistake to assert that we all feel these sympathetic sensations with equal vividness. on the contrary, many people are so inattentive to the qualities of sounds that they hardly know the meaning of the term "nasal tone." one trait in particular distinguishes the musician and the music lover; this is, the possession of a keen sense of hearing. the ear is trained by exercise in its own function,--hearing. the more attentively we listen to music the higher do we develop our ability to discriminate between musical sounds. moreover, natural endowments vary in different individuals, with regard to the ear, as with all other human faculties. to appreciate fully the wonderful insight into vocal operations conveyed by the sympathetic sensations of tone, a naturally keen musical ear is required; further, this natural gift of a good ear must be developed by attentive listening to music, vocal and instrumental, carried on through several years. _mental imitation of vocal tones_ that every sense has its counterpart in the imagination need hardly be said. we know what it means to feel warm or cold, hungry or thirsty; we know the taste of an apple, the scent of a rose. we can at will create pictures before the mind's eye. in the same way we can hear in imagination any sound we choose to produce mentally. an inseparable function of the sense of hearing is the impulse to imitate mentally the tones of speakers and singers. the imitation of sounds is an instinctive operation. "talking proper does not set in till the instinct to _imitate sounds_ ripens in the nervous system." (_the principles of psychology_, wm. james, n. y., .) little can be said about the impulse to imitate voices mentally, further than that it is an exercise of this same instinct. _imagined adjustments of the vocal organs_ it has already been seen that the vocal organs have the ability to adjust themselves, through instinctive guidance, for the production of any tone demanded by the ear. this same ability is invoked in the mental imitation of tones. in one case the muscular contractions are actually performed; in the other the muscular adjustments are wholly or in part imaginary. it is highly probable that actual contractions of the laryngeal muscles take place, under certain conditions, as an accompaniment to the listening to voices. this is evident in the case of extremely aggravated throaty and forced voices. in listening to the harsh, raucous cries of many street vendors, when calling out their wares, the hearer frequently feels a sense of actual pain in his own throat. involuntary and unconscious contractions of the laryngeal muscles, somewhat similar to those under consideration, are well known to experimental psychologists. prof. ladd's statement that these contractions assist the ear in the judgment of absolute pitch has already been cited. another example of unconscious laryngeal movements has been investigated by hansen and lehmann ("ueber unwillkuerliches fluestern," _philos. studien_, , vol. xi, p. ), and by h. s. curtis ("automatic movements of the larynx," _amer. jour. psych._, , vol. xi, p. ). the laboratory experiments of these investigators show that when words, or ideas definitely expressed in words, are strongly thought but not uttered, the vocal organs unconsciously adjust themselves to the positions necessary for uttering the words. curtis says of these unconscious laryngeal contractions: "such movements are very common with normal people, and are comparatively easy of demonstration." the apparatus used by hansen and lehmann in their experiments consists of two large concave reflectors. these are placed at a convenient distance, one facing the other, so that two experimenters may be seated, the first having his mouth at the focal point of one reflector, the second with his ear at the focal point of the other. as the first experimenter repeats mentally any words or phrases, these are found to be unconsciously whispered. these sounds of whispering, inaudible under ordinary conditions, are so magnified by the two reflectors as to be distinctly heard by the second experimenter. curtis proved that actual movements of the larynx unconsciously accompany intense thought. his demonstrations were conducted along lines familiar to all students of experimental psychology. similar experiments would probably show that unconscious movements of the larynx also occur during the listening to vocal tones. a peculiarity of the laryngeal adjustments accompanying the listening to voices is seen in the fact that the possession of a fine or well-trained voice is not required in this process. it does not matter whether the physical organs are capable of producing fine musical tones. the nervous equipment alone is involved; this is frequently highly developed, even though the physical voice is very poor. a keen and highly-trained ear is the only requisite. players in the opera orchestras often develop this faculty to a high degree, even though they may never attempt to sing a note. _muscular sense_ an exhaustive analysis of the various classes of sensations, commonly grouped under the general heading of muscular sense, would involve a mass of technicalities not necessary to the present purpose. it is sufficient to bear in mind the limitations of this sense, and to notice what it tells us, and what it does not tell. through the exercise of the muscular sense we are informed of the movements, positions, and conditions of the different parts of the body. of specific muscular contractions very little information is conveyed. thus, when the arm is bent at the elbow the muscular sensations of the movement are clear and definite; but, under normal conditions, these sensations do not inform us that the movement results from the contraction of the biceps muscle. knowledge of the muscular structure of the body is not involved in muscular sense. the muscular sensations of bending the arm are felt in precisely the same way by the professor of anatomy and the ignorant child. further, no amount of attention paid to muscular sensations will inform us exactly what muscles are contracted in any complex action. a single stroke in the game of tennis, returning a swift service for example, may involve some contraction of every muscle of the entire body. a skilful player may observe with the utmost care the muscular sensations accompanying this stroke; he would never be able to learn from these sensations whether the number of muscles in his forearm is ten or one hundred. for the same reason the sympathetic sensations of tone tell us nothing whatever of the muscular structure of the vocal organs. when listening to a throaty voice, we feel that the singer's throat is tightened, stiffened, or contracted. but no matter how keen and vivid this sensation may be, it leaves us in complete ignorance of the names and locations of the muscles wrongly contracted. this is true, however thoroughly we may know the anatomy of the vocal organs. much of the prevailing confusion about the voice is due to a misunderstanding of this point. when, for example, the musical critic asserted that mme. t---- sang certain tones with "pinched glottis," he fell into this error. his sympathetic sensations informed him of some unnecessary tightening of the singer's throat. from these sensations he seems to have inferred that the glottis-closing muscles were too strongly contracted. this assumption was not warranted by any information conveyed in the sympathetic sensations. it is not necessary now to determine to what extent the muscular sensations accompanying the listening to voices are purely imaginative, and to what extent they result from actual, though unconscious, contractions of the listener's throat muscles. the psychological process is the same in either case. sympathetic sensations of tone always accompany the listening to voices. while the psychological process is complex, this process is performed unconsciously and involuntarily. even though the attention may be definitely turned to the sympathetic sensations themselves, the mental imitation and the laryngeal adjustments seldom rise into consciousness. as a rule, the entire operation is purely sub-conscious. the listener simply knows how the voices to which he listens are produced. this knowledge has always been accepted as intuitive; but this is merely another way of saying that the process of its acquirement is sub-conscious. _direct sensations of tone_ in addition to the source of misunderstanding of the vocal action just mentioned,--the attempt to define the precise muscular contractions indicated in the sympathetic sensations, another common misinterpretation of these sensations must be noted. as a consequence of the sub-conscious character of the sympathetic sensations, the two classes of muscular sensation of vocal tone, direct and sympathetic, are frequently confounded and classed together as the "singer's sensations." a third source of confusion is seen in the attempt to apply the sympathetic sensations, by formulating rules for the guidance of the student, in performing specific actions for the management of the vocal organs. all three of these topics will be considered in a later chapter. before approaching this subject let us see just what information may be derived from the observation of the direct sensations of tone. the direct sensations of tone are never so vivid, so precise, nor so reliable as the sympathetic sensations. in other words, the hearer is better able to judge of the singer's throat action than the singer himself. this may seem a paradoxical statement, but a brief consideration will show it to be fully justified. in the case of teacher and pupil, it will hardly be questioned that the master hears the pupil's voice to better advantage than the pupil. this is also true when a trained singer's tones are observed by a competent hearer. the singer's direct sensations are highly complex. they include the muscular sensations accompanying the exertion of the breathing muscles, and these are usually so intense as to overshadow the sensations due to the laryngeal adjustments. on the other hand, the hearer is free to pay close attention to the sensations of throat action, and therefore feels these much more keenly than does the singer. on this account the direct sensations of tone are of vastly less value in the study of the vocal action than are the sympathetic sensations. chapter iii empirical knowledge of the voice through attention paid to the sympathetic sensations of tone, the listener may carry on mentally a running commentary on the throat actions of all those whose voices are heard. continuing to use the word empirical in the sense thus far adopted, it may be said that the summary of the impressions conveyed in the sympathetic sensations of tone constitutes empirical knowledge of the voice. in other words, empirical knowledge of the voice is an understanding of the operations of the vocal mechanism, obtained through the attentive listening to voices. let us consider first the running commentary on the throat action, mentally carried on by the listener. this mental commentary is an inseparable accompaniment of the listening to the voices of others, whether in speech or song. as we are concerned now only with the problem of tone-production in artistic singing, our consideration will be limited to the critical hearer's observation of the tones of singers. let us imagine two friends to be seated side by side in the concert hall, listening to the performance of a violin sonata by an artist of about mediocre ability. suppose one of the friends to be a highly trained musical critic, the other to be almost unacquainted with music of this class. let us now inquire how the tones of the violin will impress these two hearers; and further, let the inquiry be limited strictly to the matter of tone, leaving out of consideration all questions of composition and rendition. as a matter of course, the tones of the violin will impress these two listeners in widely different ways. the untrained observer will greatly enjoy the beautiful tones,--supposing of course that he be gifted with a natural fondness for music. but so far as musical value is concerned, all the tones will sound to him practically alike. for the trained hearer, on the other hand, every note drawn by the performer from his instrument will have a distinct value. some of the tones will be true in pitch and perfect in quality. some will vary slightly from the correct pitch; others will perhaps be in perfect tune, and yet be marred in quality by faults of scratching, thinness, roughness, etc. when the two come to compare notes at the end of the performance the trained critic will be utterly unable to convey to his friend his impressions of the player's technique. vividly clear as it is to the critic, his understanding of tonal values is lodged solely in his cultivated ear. this understanding cannot be imparted in words; it must be acquired by experience in actual listening to music. let us now imagine this same critic to be listening to a singer, not an artist of the first rank, but one whose voice is marred by some slight faults of production. in this case the critic will note exactly the same sort of differences in tonal value as in the case of the violinist. some of the singer's notes will be perfect musical tones, others will be marred by faults of intonation or of quality. but a great difference will be noted between faulty tones played on the violin, and faulty tones sung by the human voice. in addition to their blemishes as musical tones, the faulty notes of the voice also convey to the critical listener an idea of the state of the singer's throat in producing them. every blemish on the beauty of a vocal tone, every fine shade of quality which detracts from its perfection, indicates to the critical hearer some faulty action of the singer's vocal organs. the more faulty the musical character of the singer's tones the more pronounced is this impression of faulty production. on the other hand, just so nearly as the singer's tones approach perfection as musical sounds, so do they also impress the ear of the critical listener as indicating the approach to the perfect vocal action. the critic could not impart to his untrained friend the impressions made by the violinist's tones. somewhat the same is true of the impressions made by the tones of the voice on the critical ear. in voices of extremely nasal or throaty sound these blemishes can, of course, be detected by the ordinary hearer. but the fine shades of difference in vocal tone quality, heard by the trained critic, cannot be noted by the inexperienced listener. this fine ability to discriminate between musical sounds comes only through experience in listening to music, better still, when this has been combined with the actual study of music. but the ability to judge the vocal actions of singers, through the sympathetic sensations of tone, does not depend on any actual exercise of the listener's own voice. for the developing of this ability the exercise of the ear suffices. the mere exercise of the ear, in listening to singers, entails also the training of what may be called the "mental voice." attentive listening to voices, involving as a natural consequence the sub-conscious impressions of sympathetic sensations, results in the development of a faculty to which this name, the mental voice, very aptly applies. a music-lover whose experience of hearing singing and instrumental music has been wide enough to develop the mental voice in a fair degree, possesses in this faculty a valuable means for judging singers. the mental voice carries on a running commentary on the manner of production of all the voices to which this music-lover listens. at every instant he is informed of the exact condition of the singer's throat. for him there is an almost infinite variety of throaty tones, each one indicating some degree and form of throat tension or stiffening. a perfect vocal tone, on the other hand, is _felt_ to be perfectly produced, as well as _heard_ to be musically perfect. equipped with a highly trained sense of hearing, and the resulting faculty of mental voice, the lover of singing has an unfailing insight into the operations of the vocal mechanism. this understanding of the workings of the vocal organs is the empirical knowledge of the voice. this empirical knowledge of the voice can be possessed only by one who is equipped with a highly cultivated ear. the keener the ear the more precise and definite is this understanding of the voice. season after season, as the music-lover continues to attend concerts, operas, and recitals, his feeling for the voice becomes gradually more keen and discerning. further, empirical knowledge of the voice can be acquired in no other way than by actual experience in listening to voices. no matter how keen and definite are the impressions of throat action felt by the experienced hearer, these impressions cannot be described to the uninitiated. in fact, these impressions are to a great extent of a character not capable of being recorded in precise terms. the general nature of a throaty tone, for example, is thoroughly understood. but of the thousands of varieties of the throaty tone no adequate description can be given. each observer must learn for himself to hear these fine shades of difference in tone quality. every experienced music lover has his own mental standard of tonal perfection. the trained ear knows how a perfect musical tone should sound, independent of the precise quality of the tone. the tone quality is determined, of course, by the instrument on which it is sounded. but along with the individual characteristics of the sound, the tones drawn from every instrument, to be available in the artistic performance of music, must conform to the correct standard. knowing the general musical character of the tones of all instruments, the cultured hearer can at once detect any variation from this character. further, he knows how the tones of a badly-played instrument would sound if the instrument were correctly handled. an unskilled trumpeter in an orchestra, for example, may draw from his instrument tones that are too brassy, blatant, or harsh. an observant hearer knows exactly what these tones would be if the instrument were skilfully played. in just the same way the mental voice has its own standard of vocal perfection. every voice which falls below this standard is felt by the critical hearer to be imperfectly used. when listening to a nasal singer we know that the voice would be greatly improved in quality if the nasal sound of the tones were eliminated. we feel that the correction of the faults of production indicated by a throaty voice would add greatly to the beauty of the voice. more than this, we can also form some idea how an imperfectly produced voice would sound if all the faults of vocal action were to be corrected. a perfectly produced voice affects the ear in a peculiar and distinct way. not only is such a voice free from faults; it has also, on the positive side, a peculiar character which renders it entirely different from any wrongly used voice. the cultured hearer is impressed with a sense of incompleteness and insufficiency in listening to a voice which does not "come out" in a thoroughly satisfactory manner. this is true, even though the voice is not marred by any distinct fault. a voice absolutely perfect in its production awakens a peculiar set of sympathetic sensations. in addition to its musical beauty such a voice satisfies an instinctive demand for the perfect vocal action. an indescribable sensation of physical satisfaction is experienced in listening to a perfectly managed voice. on further consideration of this feeling of physical satisfaction awakened by a perfectly produced voice, it seems a mistake to call it indescribable. a beautiful description of this set of sympathetic sensations has been handed down to us by the masters of the old italian school. this description is embodied in two of the traditional precepts, those dealing with the open throat and the support of the tone. mention of the traditional precepts leads at once to the consideration of another aspect of the empirical knowledge of the voice. vocalists have been attentively listening to voices since the beginning of the modern art of singing. although many of the impressions made by the voice on the ear cannot be expressed in words, one set of impressions has been clearly recorded. a marked difference was evidently noticed by the old italian masters between the feelings awakened in the hearer by a voice properly managed and those awakened by an incorrectly produced voice. these impressions were embodied in a set of precepts for the guidance of the singer, which are none other than the much-discussed traditional precepts. in other words, the traditional precepts embody the results of the old masters' empirical study of the voice. considered in this light, the old precepts lose at once all air of mystery and become perfectly intelligible and coherent. to a consideration of this record of the empirical knowledge of the voice the following chapter is devoted. chapter iv the traditional precepts of the old italian school there should be nothing mysterious, nothing hard to understand, about the empirical precepts. it was pointed out in chapter v of part i that these precepts contain a perfect description of correctly produced vocal tone, so far as the impression on the listener is concerned. this means nothing else than that the old precepts summarize the results of empirical observation of correct singing. there is nothing new in this statement; considered as empirical knowledge, the modern vocal teacher understands the meaning of the old masters' precepts perfectly well. the misunderstanding of the subject begins with the attempt to apply the precepts as specific rules for the direct mechanical management of the voice. in this connection they were seen to be valueless. let us now see if the old precepts are found to contain any meaning of value to the vocal teacher when considered as purely empirical formulæ. each one of the precepts may be said to describe some special characteristic of the perfect vocal tone, considered solely as a sound. these characteristics may each be considered separately, that is, the hearer may voluntarily pay close attention to any special aspect of the vocal tone. the best plan for arriving at the exact meaning of the precepts is therefore to consider each one in turn. _the forward tone_ every lover of singing is familiar with this characteristic of the perfectly produced voice; the sound seems to come directly from the singer's mouth, and gives no indication of being formed at the back of the throat. this characteristic of the perfect tone is simply heard. it is not distinguished by any sympathetic sensations, but is purely a matter of sound. on the other hand, a wrongly produced voice seems to be formed or held in the back of the singer's throat. the tones of such a voice do not come out satisfactorily; they seem to be lodged in the throat instead of at the front of the mouth. in the badly used voice the impression of throat is conveyed by the sympathetic sensations awakened in the hearer. a striking difference between correct and incorrect singing is thus noted. a wrongly produced voice is felt by the hearer to be held in the singer's throat. when properly used the voice gives no impression of throat; it seems to have no relation to the throat, but to be formed in the front of the mouth. so much has been written about "forward emission" that the forward characteristic of vocal tones seems to be enshrouded in mystery. as a matter of fact, the forward tone is easily explained. the perfectly produced voice issues directly from the mouth for the same reason that the tones of the trombone issue from the bell of the instrument. it is all a matter of resonance. this is well illustrated by a simple experiment with a tuning fork and a spherical resonator reinforcing the tone of the fork. when the fork is struck, the ear hears the sound issuing from the resonator, not that coming direct from the fork. this is brought out distinctly by placing the fork at a little distance from the resonator. the listener can then definitely locate the source of the sound which impresses the ear. under these circumstances the sound coming from the resonator is found to be many times more powerful than that coming direct from the tuning fork. if left to its own judgment the ear takes the resonator to be the original source of the sound. in the voice the exciting cause of the air vibrations is located at the back of the resonator,--the mouth-pharynx cavity. the sound waves in this case can issue only from the front of the resonator,--the singer's mouth. no matter how the voice is produced, correctly or badly, this acoustic principle must apply. why then does not the incorrectly used voice impress the hearer as issuing directly from the mouth, the same as the correctly produced tone? this is purely a matter of sympathetic sensations of throat tightness, awakened by the faulty tone. every wrongly used voice arouses in the listener sympathetic sensations of throat contraction. this impression of throat, noted by the hearer, consists of muscular, not of strictly auditory sensations. as a statement of scientific fact, the forward-tone precept is erroneous. it does not describe scientifically the difference between correct and incorrect tone-production. correctly sung tones are not produced at the lips. every vocal tone, good or bad, is produced by the motion of the vocal cords and reinforced by the resonance of the mouth-pharynx cavity. only when considered as an empirical description is the forward-tone precept of value. in this sense the precept describes accurately the difference in the impressions made on the hearer by correct and incorrect singing. a badly produced tone seems to be caught in the singer's throat; the correctly used voice is free from this fault, and is therefore heard to issue directly from the singer's mouth. this marked difference between correct and incorrect tone throws a valuable light on the meaning of the correct vocal action. every badly used voice gives the impression of wrong or unnecessary tightness, stiffening, and contraction of the throat. when perfectly used, the voice does not convey any such impression of throat stiffness. _the open throat_ just as with the forward tone, the meaning of the open throat is best brought out by contrasting the impressions made on the hearer by a perfect and a badly used voice. a badly produced tone seems to be caught, or as tosi expressed it, "choaked in the throat." the singer's throat seems to be tightened and narrowed so that the sound has not sufficient passageway to come out properly. on the other hand, the perfectly used voice comes out freely, without interference or hindrance at any point in the singer's throat. there seems to be plenty of room for the tone to come forth; in other words, the singer's throat seems to be open. all these impressions are purely a matter of sympathetic sensations. in listening to a faulty singer the hearer feels a sensation of tightness and contraction of the throat. a well used voice awakens exactly the opposite sensation, that of looseness and freedom of the throat. here again is seen the difference between correct and incorrect singing, empirically considered. judging from the impressions made by rightly and wrongly used voices, any incorrect vocal action involves a condition of tightness and contraction of the throat. perfect singing gives the impression that the throat is loose and supple, and free from all unnecessary tension. _the support of the tone_ following the plan of contrasting correct and incorrect singing, the meaning of this precept is readily found. the perfect voice is felt by the hearer to be firmly and confidently held by the singer in a secure grasp of the throat muscles. such a voice awakens the sympathetic sensations of perfectly balanced muscular effect, similar to the muscular sensations of the hand and forearm when an object is firmly grasped in the hand. a badly used voice seems to be convulsively gripped in the singer's throat. the tones seem to fall back into the throat for want of some secure base on which to rest. this impression is conveyed by a peculiar set of sympathetic sensations of highly unpleasant muscular tension far back in the throat. this precept, "support the tone," points to the difference already noted between the right and the wrong vocal action. badly produced tones indicate a state of excessive tension of the throat muscles. correct singing gives the impression that the throat muscles exert exactly the requisite degree of strength, and no more. taken together, the open-throat and the forward-tone precepts embody an admirable description of the sympathetic sensations awakened by perfect singing. the singer's entire vocal mechanism is felt to be in a condition of lithe and supple freedom. there is no straining, no constraint, no forcing, no unnecessary tension. each muscle of the vocal mechanism, and indeed of the entire body, exerts just the necessary degree of strength. similar muscular sensations always accompany the expert performance of any action requiring a high degree of dexterity. whatever be the form of exertion, skilful physical activity awakens muscular sensations of perfectly balanced and harmonized contractions. this feeling of muscular poise and adjustment is pleasurable in a high degree. a keen enjoyment is experienced in the skilful performance of many complex muscular activities. much of the pleasure of skating, dancing, rowing, tennis, etc., is dependent on this feeling of muscular poise and harmonious contraction. healthy exercise is always normally enjoyable; but skilful performance greatly enhances the pleasure. a beginner learning to skate, for example, exerts himself fully as much as the accomplished skater. yet the beginner does not by any means derive the same degree of pleasure from his exertions. precisely this feeling of balanced and harmonious muscular exertion is experienced by the perfect singer. more than this, the hearer also, through sympathetic sensations, shares the same pleasurable feeling. this is the sensation described as the feeling of soaring, of poise, and of floating, in many descriptions of the "singer's sensations." _singing on the breath_ when the voice is perfectly used the tones seem to detach themselves from the singer, and to float off on the breath. nothing in the sound of the tones, nor in the sympathetic sensations awakened, gives any indication that the breath is checked or impeded in its flow. the current of tone seems to be poured out on the breath just as freely as a quiet expiration in ordinary breathing. this is a purely empirical description of perfect singing. as we know very well, the vocal action is quite different from this description. but the important point is that the phrase "singing on the breath" does very accurately describe the impression made on the hearer by perfect singing. singing on the breath represents the highest possible degree of purely vocal perfection. one may attend operas and concerts for a whole season and listen to a score of famous singers, and count oneself fortunate to have heard even one artist who attains this standard of tonal excellence. singing on the breath is an effect of wondrous tonal beauty; it is simply this, pure beauty, pristine and naïve. with the slightest degree of throat stiffness or muscular tension, singing on the breath is utterly impossible. so soon as the tones indicate the merest trace of throat contraction, the free outflow of the stream of sound is felt to be checked. coloratura singing, to be absolutely perfect, demands this degree of tonal excellence. singing on the breath and coloratura are indeed very closely allied. the modern school of musical criticism does not hold coloratura singing in very high esteem. we demand nowadays expression, passion, and emotion; we want vocal music to portray definite sentiments, to express concrete feelings. florid singing is not adapted to this form of expressiveness. it is only sensuously beautiful; it speaks to the ear, but does not appeal to the intellect. yet it may well be asked whether the highest type of coloratura singing, pure tonal beauty, does not appeal to a deeper, more elemental set of emotions than are reached by dramatically expressive singing. this question would call for a profound psychological discussion, hardly in place in a work devoted to the technical problem of tone-production. but this much is certain: coloratura singing still has a strong hold on the affections of the music loving public. even to-day audiences are moved by the vocal feats of some famous queen of song fully as profoundly as by the performance of a modern dramatic or realistic opera. to describe a sound is an extremely difficult task. the tone of the muted horn, for example, is perfectly familiar to the average musician. yet who would undertake to describe in words the tone of the muted horn? a description of the sounds produced by a perfectly managed voice is almost as difficult to frame in words. still the old italian masters succeeded in finding words to describe perfect singing. these few simple phrases--open the throat, support the tone, sing the tones forward, sing on the breath--embody a most beautiful and complete description of vocal perfection. the empirical study of the voice can hardly be expected to go further than this. from the old masters we have received a complete record of all that need be known empirically about the voice. chapter v empirical knowledge in modern voice culture it was pointed out in chapter i of part iii that there is no possibility of conflict between empirical and scientific knowledge. modern voice culture seems to present a direct contradiction of this statement. the vocal teacher's empirical understanding of the voice conflicts at every step with his supposedly scientific knowledge. no doubt the reader is already aware of the real meaning of this apparent contradiction. it only bears out the philosophic rule; an accepted science must be abandoned so soon as its deductions are found to be not in accord with observed facts. modern methods of instruction in singing can be understood only by following out this idea of conflict between known facts and accepted, though erroneous, scientific doctrines. as we have seen, the only universally accepted theory of supposedly scientific voice culture is the idea of direct mechanical guidance of the voice. every vocal teacher attempts to make his empirical knowledge conform to this mechanical idea. as the empirical knowledge is correct, and the mechanical idea a complete mistake, conflict between the two is inevitable. every modern teacher of singing possesses in full measure the empirical understanding of the voice. to this statement hardly an exception need be made. probably the most startling fact concerning the wide diffusion of this knowledge is that the nature of this knowledge is so thoroughly ignored. because the psychological process is purely sub-conscious, empirical knowledge is always indirectly and generally unconsciously applied. in the teacher's mind the most prominent idea is that of mechanical vocal guidance. his attention is always directly turned to this idea. empirical knowledge, consisting merely of a succession of auditory and muscular sensations, lurks in the background of consciousness. to the intelligent vocal teacher there is something peculiarly fascinating about the study of tone-production. in listening to any faulty singer we feel with the utmost precision what is wrong with the voice. each imperfect tone informs us clearly and definitely just where the wrong muscular contraction is located. it seems so easy to tell the singer what to do in order to bring the tone out perfectly. under the influence of the mechanical idea we try to express this feeling in the terms of muscular action. this attempt is never successful; the singer cannot be brought to understand our meaning. yet it is so clear in our own minds that our inability to express it is extremely tantalizing. we go on, constantly hoping to find a way to define the mechanical processes so clearly indicated to the ear. we always feel that we are just on the verge of the great discovery. the solution of the problem of tone-production is almost within our grasp, yet it always eludes us. it was stated in chapter v of part i that empirical knowledge of the voice, based on the singer's sensations, is used to supplement and interpret the doctrines of mechanical vocal guidance. this is in the main true, so far as the vocal teacher is aware. but here again the result of the sub-conscious character of empirical knowledge of the voice is seen. as a matter of fact the real situation is the direct reverse of that described in the chapter mentioned. the mechanical doctrines are used in the attempt to interpret the empirical knowledge. this fact is well brought out in the following passage from kofler: "the teacher must imitate the wrong muscle-action and tone of his pupil as an illustration of the negative side." (_the art of breathing_, n. y., .) kofler does not touch on the question, how the teacher is able to locate the wrong muscle-action of the pupil. he takes this ability for granted; it is so purely an intuitive process that he does not stop to inquire into the source of this information of the pupil's vocal action. through his sense of hearing he sub-consciously locates the faults in the pupil's tone-production. his only conscious application of this knowledge is the attempt to explain to the pupil the wrong muscle-action. this he naturally tries to do in the terms of mechanical action and muscular operation. thus the mechanical doctrine is used in the attempt to explain the empirical knowledge. yet the teacher is conscious only of citing the mechanical rule, and believes this to cover the entire instruction. in the preceding chapter it was seen that the perfectly produced vocal tone may be considered in a variety of aspects. each one of these aspects is characterized by a fairly distinct set of sympathetic sensations. of faulty modes of throat action, as revealed by sympathetic sensations, there is an almost infinite variety. of this wide variety of forms of throat tension the most prominent are those indicated by sets of sympathetic sensations, the direct opposites of those characterizing the perfect vocal action. thus the open throat is indicated by one set of sympathetic sensations, the lack of this characteristic of tone by an opposite set, etc. whatever distinct fault of production the pupil's tone indicates, the master immediately notes the character of the faulty throat action. the master feels, simply and directly, what is wrong with the student's tone-production. whence this knowledge comes he does not stop to inquire. suppose the pupil to sing an exercise, and to produce tones which stick in the throat, instead of coming out freely. the master simply hears that the pupil's voice is caught in the throat; he does not observe that he is informed of this condition by muscular as well as auditory sensations. this ignoring of the psychological nature of the impressions of tone is not necessarily detrimental to successful instruction. on the contrary, the master's empirical insight into the vocal operations of the pupil would probably not be advanced by an understanding of the psychological process. it is sufficient for the teacher's purpose to hear that the pupil's voice is caught in the throat. what robs this hearing, or feeling, of all value is this: the master attempts to interpret the sensation as an indication of the need of some specific muscular action, to be directly performed by the pupil. to this end he cites the mechanical rule, assumed to be indicated by the pupil's faulty vocal action. this may be, for example, the opening of the throat to give room for the tone to expand. it seems so perfectly simple to the teacher;--the pupil narrows his throat, and so holds in the tone; let him expand his throat and the tone will come out freely. this conclusion seems so clearly indicated by the sound of the tones that the master almost inevitably gives the precise instruction: "open your throat and let your voice come out." this sums up, to the master's satisfaction, everything the pupil need do to correct this particular fault of tone-production. other sets of sympathetic sensations, awakened by badly produced tones, are interpreted in the same manner. a tone heard to be held in the back of the throat is believed to indicate the need of bringing the voice forward in the mouth. other forms of throaty production are taken to show a lack of support, a wrong management of the breath, a need of breath-control, a misuse of nasal resonance, or an improper action of the vocal cords. in all these attempts to interpret sympathetic sensations by means of mechanical doctrines the teacher naturally relies on those doctrines in which he believes most firmly. sympathetic sensations are indeed sometimes cited in proof of certain theories of breath-control, and also of nasal resonance. both these topics are worthy of separate attention. _sympathetic sensations and nasal resonance_ one of the most widely accepted theories of the vocal action is that the higher notes of the voice are influenced by reinforcing vibrations located in the nose and forehead. whether this idea was derived more from direct than from sympathetic sensations need not be determined now. it is at any rate certain that a perfectly sung tone gives to the hearer the impression of nasal influence of some kind. the exact nature of this influence has never been determined. it may be air resonance, or sounding-board resonance, or both combined. satisfactory proof on this point is lacking. in the belief of the practical teacher, however, this impression of nasal influence is the strongest argument in favor of nasal resonance. turning now to the question of nasal quality, strictly speaking, tones of this objectionable character always awaken the sympathetic sensations of contraction somewhere in the nose. why such a contraction should cause this unpleasant sound of the voice is a profound mystery. perhaps wrong tension of the soft palate exerts an influence on the actions of the vocal cords; or it may be that the form of the nasal cavities is altered by the muscular contraction. this aspect of the vocal action has never been scientifically investigated. the sympathetic sensation of nasal contraction or pinching is at any rate very pronounced. curiously, this sympathetic sensation is cited as an argument in favor of their respective theories, by both the advocates and the opponents of nasal resonance. _sympathetic sensations and breath-control_ certain forms of exaggerated throat stiffness are frequently held to indicate the need of breath-control. the faulty vocal action in question is analyzed by the breath-control advocates substantially as follows: "owing to the outflow of the breath not being checked at the proper point, the entire vocal mechanism is thrown out of adjustment. the singer exerts most of his efforts in the endeavor to prevent the escape of the breath; to this end he contracts his throat and stiffens his tongue and jaw. his tones are forced, harsh, and breathy; they lack musical quality. his voice runs away with him and he cannot control or manage it. in the attempt to obtain some hold on his voice he 'reaches' for his tones with his throat muscles. the more he tries to regain control of the runaway breath the worse does his state become." this extreme condition of throat stiffness is unfortunately by no means rare. so far as concerns the sympathetic sensations awakened by this kind of singing the condition is graphically described by the breath-control advocates. but the conclusion is entirely unjustified that this condition indicates the lack of breath-control. only the preconceived notion of breath-control leads to this inference. the sympathetic sensations indicate a state of extreme muscular tension of the throat; this is about the only possible analysis of the condition. * * * empirical impressions of vocal tones determine the character of most present-day instruction in singing. this means no more than to say that throughout all vocal training the teacher listens to the pupil's voice. the impressions of tone received by the teacher's ear cannot fail to inform the teacher of the condition of the pupil's throat in producing the voice. for the teacher to seek to apply this information in imparting the correct vocal action to the pupil is inevitable. almost every teacher begins a course of instruction by having the pupil run through the prescribed series of mechanical exercises and rules. breathing is always taken up first. breath-control, laryngeal action, registers, and resonance follow usually in this order. the time devoted to this course of training may vary from a few weeks to several months. this mechanical instruction is almost always interspersed with songs and arias. the usual procedure is to devote about half of each lesson to mechanical doctrines and the remainder to real singing. blind faith in the efficacy of this mechanical training is the teacher's only motive in giving it. very little attention is paid to the sound of the pupil's voice during the study of mechanical rules and doctrines. it is simply taken for granted that the voice must be put through this course. once the mechanical course has been covered, the pupil's voice is supposed, in a vague way, to be "placed." from that time on, whether it be at the end of two months of study or of two years, the instruction is based solely on empirical impressions of tone. little remains to be said of the nature of this empirical instruction. it always retains the mechanical aspect. whatever fault of production is noted, the teacher seeks to correct the fault by applying some mechanical rule. the futility of this form of instruction has already been pointed out. only two ways of applying empirical knowledge of the voice are known to the modern vocal teacher. these are, first, to tell the pupil to "open the throat," or to "support the tone," or to perform whatever other mechanical operation seems to be indicated as necessary by the sound of the tone; second, to bid the student to "feel that the tone is supported," to "feel that the throat is open," etc. under these circumstances the little advantage derived from empirical knowledge in modern voice culture is readily understood. chapter vi scientific knowledge of the voice so far as any definite record can be made, the knowledge of the voice obtained by attentive listening to voices has now been set down. the next step in the scientific study of tone-production is the consideration of all knowledge of the voice obtained from sources other than empirical. in other words, the knowledge of the voice usually classed as scientific is now to be examined. three sciences are generally held to contribute all that can possibly be known about the vocal action. these are anatomy, acoustics, and mechanics. of these anatomy has received by far the most attention from vocal scientists. the laws of acoustics, bearing on the voice, have also been carefully considered. beyond the theory of breath-control, little attempt has been made to apply the principles of mechanics in vocal science. psychology, the science most intimately concerned with the management of the voice, has received almost no attention in this connection. a complete record of the teachings of the established sciences with regard to the voice demands the separate consideration of the four sciences mentioned. each will therefore be treated in turn. in the case of each of these sciences it is seen that the most essential facts of the vocal action have been definitely established. many questions still remain to be satisfactorily answered which are of great interest to the theoretical student of the voice. yet in spite of the lack of exact knowledge on these points, enough is now known to furnish the basis for a practical science of voice culture. _the anatomy of the vocal mechanism_ this subject has been so exhaustively studied that nothing new can well be discovered regarding the muscular structure of the vocal organs. in all probability the reader is sufficiently acquainted with the anatomy of the larynx and its connections. only a very brief outline of the subject is therefore demanded. the muscles concerned with breathing call for no special notice in this connection. the special organ of voice is the larynx. this consists of four cartilages, with their connecting ligaments,--the thyroid, the cricoid, and the two arytenoids, and of nine so-called intrinsic muscles,--two crico-thyroid, right and left, two thyro-arytenoid, two posterior crico-arytenoid, two lateral crico-arytenoid, and one arytenoideus. the inner edges of the thyro-arytenoid muscles form the vocal cords. the hyoid bone, serving as a medium of attachment for the tongue, may also be considered a portion of the larynx. by means of the extrinsic muscles the larynx is connected with the bones of the chest, neck, and head. while the muscular structure of the vocal organs is thoroughly known, the actions of the laryngeal muscles in tone-production have never been absolutely determined. this much is definitely established: vocal tone is produced when the vocal cords are brought together and held on tension, and the air in the lungs is expired with sufficient force to set the vocal cords in motion. the tension of the vocal cords can be increased by the contraction of their muscular tissues, the two thyro-arytenoid muscles; further, increased tension of the cords can also result from the tilting of the thyroid cartilage on the cricoid, by the contraction of the crico-thyroid muscles. it is also definitely proved that the pitch of the vocal tone varies with the state of tension of the vocal cords; increasing the degree of tension raises the pitch, decreasing the tension lowers it. as to the relative importance of the different groups of muscles in varying the tension of the vocal cords, nothing has been definitely proved. in addition to the variations in pitch resulting from variations in the tension of the vocal cords, there is also much ground for believing that the pitch may be raised by shortening the effective length of the vocal cords. this is apparently accomplished by the rotation of the arytenoid cartilages; but the specific muscular contractions concerned in the rotation of the arytenoids have not been located. it is generally asserted by vocal theorists that the quality of the vocal tone, on any one note, is determined mainly by the influence of the resonance cavities. dr. mills says on this point: "when it is borne in mind that the vocal bands have little or nothing to do with the quality of the tone, the importance of those parts of the vocal apparatus which determine quality... becomes apparent." (_voice production in singing and speaking_, .) this theory that the quality of the tone is determined solely by the resonance cavities is directly contradicted by prof. scripture. he proves that changes in tone quality result from changes in vocal cord adjustment. this subject is more fully treated in the following section. even before this matter had been definitely settled by prof. scripture, there was a strong presumption in favor of the vocal cord adjustment theory. howard advanced this idea in . several empirical observations support this theory. most important of these is the fact that a single tone, swelled from _piano_ to _forte_, goes through a wide variety of changes in quality. stockhausen's mention of this fact has already been noted. this fact tends to cast some doubt on the value of laryngoscopic observation as a means of determining the laryngeal action. under the conditions necessary for examination with the laryngoscope it is impossible for the singer to produce any but soft tones in the head quality of voice. most of these tones, if swelled to _forte_, would change from the head to the chest quality. it is probable that this change in quality is effected by a corresponding change in the vocal cord adjustment, as the conditions of the resonance cavities remain the same. but this cannot be determined by laryngoscopic observation. so far as the actions of the laryngeal muscles are concerned, no difference can be defined between the correct vocal action and any improper mode of operation. sir morell mackenzie examined a large number of people with the aid of the laryngoscope; of these, some were trained singers, others, while possessed of good natural voices, had had no vocal training whatever. many variations were noted in the notes on which changes of register occurred. but it could not be determined by this mode of examination whether the subject was a trained singer or not. if there is one specifically correct mode of operation for the vocal cords, this correct action has never been determined from the anatomy of the organs. no doubt there is some difference between the muscular actions of correct tone-production and those of any incorrect operation of the voice. but the nature of this difference in muscular action has never been discovered by means of dissections of the larynx, nor by laryngoscopic observation. _the acoustic principles of tone-production_ an outline of the existing state of knowledge regarding the acoustic principles of tone-production must be drawn mainly from one source. this is the latest authoritative work on the subject, _the study of speech curves_, by e. w. scripture (washington, ). in this work prof. scripture overthrows several of the conclusions of helmholtz which had hitherto furnished the basis of all the accepted theories of vocal acoustics. considering the eminently scientific character of all prof. scripture's research work, his thorough acquaintance with every detail of the subject, and the exhaustive attention devoted to this series of experiments, we are fully justified in accepting his present statements as conclusively proved. a first impression received from a careful reading of _the study of speech curves_ is that the subject is vastly more intricate than had formerly been believed. helmholtz's theory of vocal acoustics was fairly simple: the vocal cords vibrate after the manner of membranous reeds; a tone thus produced consists of a fundamental and a series of overtones; vowel and tone quality are determined by the influence of the resonance cavities, which reinforce certain of the overtones with special prominence. this theory is discarded by prof. scripture. "the overtone theory of the vowels cannot be correct." in place of this simple theory, prof. scripture reaches conclusions too complicated to be given in detail here. a brief outline of the subject must suffice for the needs of the present work. prof. scripture found that the nature of the walls of a resonating cavity is of more importance than either its size, shape, or opening. a flesh-lined cavity is capable of reinforcing tones covering a range of several notes. further, the vowel sound, and presumably also the tone quality, are determined more by the action of the vocal cords than by the adjustment of the resonance cavities. "the glottal lips vibrate differently for the different vowels." this adjustment of the glottal lips "presumably occurs by nervously aroused contractions of the fibers of the muscles in the glottal lips." continuing, prof. scripture says: "physiologically stated, the action for a vowel is as follows: each glottal lip consists mainly of a mass of muscles supported at the ends and along the lateral side. it bears no resemblance to a membrane or a string. the two lips come together at their front ends, but diverge to the rear. the rear ends are attached to the arytenoid cartilages. when the ends are brought together by rotation of these arytenoid cartilages, the medial surfaces touch. at the same time they are stretched by the action of the crico-thyroid muscles, which pull apart the points of support at the ends. "in this way the two masses of muscle close the air passage. to produce a vowel such a relation of air pressure and glottal tension is arranged that the air from the trachea bursts the muscles apart for a moment, after which they close again; the release of the puff of air reduces the pressure in the trachea and they remain closed until the pressure is again sufficient to burst them apart. with appropriate adjustments of the laryngeal muscles and air pressure this is kept up indefinitely, and a series of puffs from the larynx is produced. the glottal lips open partly by yielding sidewise,--that is, they are compressed,--and partly by being shoved upward and outward. the form of the puff, sharp or smooth, is determined by the way in which the glottal lips yield; the mode of yielding depends on the way in which the separate fibers of the muscles are contracted. "these puffs act on the vocal cavity, that is, on a complicated system of cavities (trachea, larynx, pharynx, mouth, nose) with variable shapes, sizes, and openings. the effect of the puffs on each element of the vocal cavity is double: first, to arouse in it a vibration with a period depending on the cavity; second, to force on it a vibration of the same period as that of the set of puffs. the prevalence of one of the factors over the other depends on the form of the puff, the walls of the cavities, etc." prof. scripture does not undertake to point out a difference between the correct vocal action in tone-production, and any incorrect action. this difference in action does not seem capable of definition by any analysis of the acoustic principles involved. _mechanical principles of the vocal action_ in part ii, chapter ii, it was seen that the outflow of the breath in tone-production is checked by the vocal cords, in accordance with pascal's law of fluid pressures. another law of mechanics bearing on this operation is now to be considered, viz., the law of the transformation and conservation of energy. the application of the law of the transformation and conservation of energy to the operations of the voice is nicely illustrated by the well-known candle-flame test of (supposedly) breath-control. to perform this test the singer is instructed to practise the exercises for breath-control while holding a lighted candle with the flame an inch or two in front of the lips. according to the idea of the breath-control advocates, the expired breath should escape so slowly, and with so little force, that no current of air can be detected at the lips, the expiration therefore does not cause the candle flame to flicker. describing the toneless breathing exercises to be practised with the candle flame, browne and behnke say, "let it be observed that the above exercise is quite distinct from the well-known practice of _singing_ before a lighted candle, which is, comparatively speaking, an easy matter." (_voice, song, and speech_.) a very striking fact is stated correctly by browne and behnke,--there is no current of air created at the lips during tone-production. of the truth of this statement the reader may readily convince himself by trying this same experiment with a candle flame, or even with a lighted match. hold a lighted match just in front of the lips and sing a powerful tone. the quality of the tone is of no consequence so long as it be powerful. just sing, shout, yell, the louder the better. you will find that the flame is less affected under these circumstances than by the quiet expiration of ordinary breathing. considerable practice and close attention are required in order to hold back the breath in toneless breathing exercises. whereas in producing any kind of powerful tone the breath normally creates no current of air at the lips. there is no reason for considering this experiment a test of correct tone-production. it is impossible to produce a powerful tone of any kind, good, bad, or indifferent, and at the same time to create an appreciable current of air at the lips. needless to say, the breath-control theorists have entirely failed to grasp the significance of the candle-flame experiment. yet we have here a demonstration of the mechanical law of tone-production. considered as a mechanical process, tone-production occurs when the energy exerted by the expiratory muscles, in their contraction, is converted into energy of motion of the vocal cords.[ ] in other words, tone-production is an example of the transformation of energy. the law of the transformation and conservation of energy must therefore apply to this operation. this law is stated as follows: "energy may be transformed from any of its forms to any other form. when energy is thus transformed the quantity of energy in the resulting form or forms is equal to the quantity of energy in the original form." [note : this exposition of the mechanical principle of tone-production is intended to be graphic, rather than strictly technical. for the sake of simplicity, that portion of the expiratory energy expended in friction against the throat walls, tongue, cheeks, etc., is disregarded, as well as that expended in propelling the air out of the mouth, in displacing the same quantity of external air, etc.] the mechanical operation of tone-production comprises the following transformations of energy: first, the energy exerted in the contraction of the expiratory muscles is converted into energy of condensation or elasticity of the air in the lungs and trachea. second, this energy of condensation of the air is converted into energy of motion of the vocal cords. in other words, the expiratory energy is transformed into energy of motion. one objection, at first sight very serious, may be offered against this statement: the amount of strength exerted in the contractions of the breath muscles seems many times greater than is accounted for in the motion of the vocal cords. the movements of the vocal cords are so slight as to be observable only with the aid of a specially devised apparatus, the stroboscope. can all the expiratory force expended in tone-production show such a small result? this apparent objection is found to be groundless in view of the application in this operation of pascal's law. as this topic was fully treated in chapter ii of part ii, no further explanation is required here. the erroneous idea of vocal mechanics involved in the doctrine of breath-control is now fully exposed. tone can be produced only when the expired air exerts a pressure on the vocal cords. there is no necessity for any conscious or voluntary check on the expiration. the energy of the expiration is expended in setting the vocal cords in motion. no energy of condensation is left in the expired air the instant it has passed the vocal cords. beyond that point there is no expiratory pressure. in one sense it is true that the expiration is "controlled" in tone-production. but this control is strictly an automatic action. the vocal cords are adjusted, by the appropriate muscular contractions, to move in response to the air pressure exerted against them. this action involves, as a necessary consequence, the holding back by the vocal cords of the out-rushing air. so long as the vocal cords remain in the position for producing tone, they also control the expiration. in this sense breath-control is an inseparable feature of tone-production. all that need be known of the mechanics of the voice is therefore perfectly plain. the vocal cords are set in motion by the pressure against them of the expired breath. this operation is in accordance with pascal's law and the law of the conservation of energy. but this analysis throws no light on the nature of the correct vocal action. it is impossible for the voice to produce a sound in any way other than that just described. in speaking or in singing, in laughing or in crying, in every sound produced by the action of the vocal cords, the mechanical principle is always the same. nor is the bearing of this law limited to the human voice. every singing bird, every animal whose vocal mechanism consists of lungs and larynx, illustrates the same mechanical principle of vocal action. only passing mention is required of the fallacy of the breath-band theory. the idea of any necessity of relieving the vocal cords of the expiratory pressure is purely fanciful. how any one with even a slight understanding of mechanics could imagine the checking of the breath by the inflation of the ventricles of morgagni, is hard to conceive. _the psychology of tone-production_ this subject was treated, in some detail, in chapter v of part ii. in that chapter however we were concerned more with a destructive criticism of the idea of mechanical tone-production than with the positive features of vocal psychology. at the risk of some repetition it is therefore advisable here to sum up the laws of psychology bearing on the vocal action. considered as a psychological process, tone-production in singing involves three distinct operations. first, the mental ear conceives a tone of definite pitch, quality, vowel sound, and power. second, the vocal organs prepare to adjust themselves, by the appropriate muscular contractions, for the production of the tone mentally conceived. third, the fiat of will is issued, causing the muscular contractions to be performed. these three operations are executed as one conscious, voluntary act. let us inquire to what extent consciousness is concerned with each operation. as conscious volitional impulses, the mental conception of the tone, and the fiat of will to produce the tone, are well enough understood. these two operations call for no extended consideration. we are at present concerned only with the psychological laws bearing on the muscular adjustments of the vocal organs. muscular contractions result from the transmission to the muscular fibers of motor nerve impulses. these nerve impulses originate in the motor nerve centers. they can never, under any circumstances, rise into consciousness. contractions of the voluntary muscles occur either as reflex or as voluntary actions. in both cases the motor nerve impulses originate in the same nerve centers. in the case of reflex actions these lower muscular centers alone are involved; in voluntary actions the originating of the motor impulses is "controlled" by consciousness. in deciding that an action shall be performed, and in what way it is to be performed, consciousness directs that each motor center involved shall send out the appropriate discharges of nerve impulse. complex muscular activities require the sending out of nerve impulses from various motor centers. such activities are usually not performed instantaneously, but require a longer or shorter time. thus we may consider it as one action for the writer to rise from his chair, to lower the window and adjust the shade, and then to return to his seat. in this case a large number of motor centers are successively involved; at the proper instant each center discharges its impulse. to this end the motor centers must be instructed when to come into activity. this distribution of nerve impulse is effected by the power of coördination. in voluntary actions coördination is accompanied by conscious control.[ ] but coördination is not a function of the higher cerebral centers, that is, of consciousness. how the connection is made between the higher cerebral centers and the lower motor centers is a complete mystery. all that can be said is that the ideas of movements are transmitted to the motor centers, and that these send out the appropriate motor impulses. [note : in this connection it is advisable to point out a difference between the meanings attached to the word "control" in psychology and in vocal science. the psychologist classes habitual movements as either automatic or controlled. automatic movements are purely reflex; the individual does not consciously decide whether they shall be performed or not. psychologically considered, the _control_ of a movement is simply the conscious volitional decision whether the movement shall be performed. to adopt the language of psychology, we should speak of _voice management_, and of _breath regulation_, instead of vocal control, breath control, etc. in the following chapters the accepted psychological usage of the word "control" will so far as possible be adopted.] turning now to the muscular adjustments of the vocal organs, these adjustments are seen to be independent of conscious guidance. when a tone is mentally conceived the vocal organs adjust themselves, in response to some mysterious guidance, for the production of the tone. the vocal cords assume the appropriate degree of tension according to the pitch of the tone to be sung. both the quality of the tone and the vowel are determined by the combined adjustments of the laryngeal muscles and of the muscles which fix the shape and size of the resonance cavities. the power of the tone is regulated by the force of the breath blast; for each degree of power some special adjustment of the vocal cords is required. all these adjustments are executed as one concrete and individual act in response to the volitional impulse contained in the mental conception of the tone. the tone is conceived as a concrete whole. it is not normally broken up mentally into its four aspects of pitch, quality, vowel, and power. true, each one of these four characteristics of the tone may be separately considered by the singer. so also, to a certain extent, may the adjustments of the vocal organs be performed with special reference to one or the other characteristic of the tone. but in every case the muscular contractions are performed without direct conscious guidance. whatever be the character of the tone mentally demanded, the vocal organs instantly adjust themselves to produce the tone. what is meant by saying that the muscular contractions are performed without conscious guidance? does this mean that the singer is unconscious of the muscular contractions? not at all. muscular sense informs the singer, more or less distinctly, of the state of contraction or relaxation of the various muscles of the vocal organs. the singer always knows fairly well the condition of the various parts of the vocal mechanism. what is meant is this: the singer does not consciously direct the vocal organs to assume certain positions and conditions, and does not instruct the various muscles to contract in certain ways. the singer does not need to know, and in fact cannot know, what muscular contractions are required to produce any desired tone. some connection exists between the organs of hearing and the vocal mechanism. that this connection has a physical basis in the nervous structure is fairly well established. "the centers for sight and for arm movements, for instance, or those of hearing and of vocal movements, have connecting pathways between them." (_feeling and will_, jas. m. baldwin, .) the psychological law of tone-production is that the vocal organs adjust themselves, without conscious guidance, to produce the tones mentally conceived. in actual singing the practical application of this law is that the voice is guided by the ear. this guidance of the voice by the ear is incessant. it must not be understood that the mental ear simply conceives a single tone, and that the vocal machinery then operates without further guidance. all the characteristics of the vocal tones,--pitch, quality, and power,--are constantly changing. these changes require corresponding changes in the muscular adjustments. the muscular contractions in turn are guided by the demands of the mental ear. as a psychological process, singing may therefore be analyzed as follows: the singer mentally sings the composition. in response to the ever varying demands of the ear the vocal organs adjust themselves to produce actually the sounds thus mentally conceived. the singer listens to these sounds and at every instant compares them to the mental conception. if the tones actually produced fail to correspond exactly to those mentally conceived, the singer instantly notes this variation and bids the vocal organs to correct it. the ear has therefore a dual function in singing. first, the mental ear directs the voice in its operations. second, the physical ear acts as a check or corrective on the voice. to sum up the psychology of tone-production, the singer guides or manages the voice by attentively listening to the tones of the voice. this is the only possible means of vocal guidance. the voice and the ear together form one complete organ. but we are still apparently as far as ever from the specific meaning of the correct vocal action. that the voice instinctively obeys the commands of the ear may be true theoretically. in actual practice we know that this does not by any means always occur. singers are often unable to get the desired results from their voices, even when they believe themselves to rely on the sense of hearing. there must therefore be some influence which under certain conditions interferes with the operations of the vocal organs. the problem of tone-production is thus seen to be one of psychology. it narrows down to this: what can interfere with the normal action of the voice and prevent the vocal organs from instinctively responding to the demands of the ear? a satisfactory answer to this problem will be found only by a consideration of all available knowledge of the voice, both empirical and scientific. this forms the material of the final division of the present work. part iv vocal science and practical voice culture chapter i the correct vocal action two distinct lines of approach were laid down for studying the operations of the voice. first, the manner of investigation usually accepted as scientific. this is, to study the vocal mechanism; to determine, as far as possible, the laws of its operation, in accordance with the principles of anatomy, acoustics, mechanics, and psychology. second, the manner of investigation generally called empirical. this begins with the observing of the tones of the voice, considered simply as sounds. from the tones we work back to the vocal organs and apply to them the information obtained by attentive listening. both of these means of investigation have been utilized; we are now in possession of the most salient facts obtainable regarding the vocal action. separately considered, neither the scientific nor the empirical study of the voice is alone sufficient to inform us of the exact nature of the correct vocal action. the next step is therefore to combine the information obtained from the two sources, scientific analysis and empirical observation. let us begin by summing up all the facts so far ascertained. tone-production in singing is a conscious and voluntary muscular operation. the vocal organs consist of a number of sets of voluntary muscles, of the bones and cartilages to which these muscles are attached, and of the nerves and nerve centers governing their actions. the precise nature of the muscular contractions of tone-production, whether correct or incorrect, is not known. these contractions occur in accordance with established laws of acoustics and mechanics. under normal conditions the vocal organs instinctively respond to the demands of the singer, through the guidance of the sense of hearing. the ability of the vocal organs to adjust themselves properly may be upset by some influence apparently outside the singer's voluntary control. study of the vocal mechanism does not inform us of the meaning of the correct vocal action, nor of the difference between this action and any other mode of operation of the voice. empirically considered, there is a striking difference between the correct vocal action and any other manner of tone-production. a perfect vocal tone awakens in the hearer a distinct set of auditory and muscular sensations. attentively observed, the muscular sensations of the hearer indicate that the perfect vocal tone is produced by the balanced and harmonious action of all the muscles of the singer's vocal mechanism. in listening to perfect singing the hearer feels that every muscle of the singer's vocal organs is contracted with exactly the appropriate degree of strength. any vocal tone of unsatisfactory sound awakens in the hearer a set of muscular sensations, the direct opposite of those indicating the correct vocal action. an incorrectly produced tone imparts to the hearer a sensation of stiffness and undue muscular tension, located more or less definitely in the throat. this sensation indicates that the singer's throat is stiffened by excessive muscular contraction. further, this feeling of throat stiffness indicates to the hearer that the singer's vocal action would become correct if the undue muscular tension were relaxed. combining now the results of empirical and scientific investigation of the voice, throat stiffness is seen to be the interfering influence which disturbs the instinctive connection between voice and ear. let us now consider the meaning of throat stiffness as a feature of incorrect tone-production. first, what is muscular stiffness? all the voluntary muscles of the body are arranged in opposed pairs, sets, or groups. a typical pair of opposed muscles are the biceps and triceps of the upper arm. contraction of the biceps flexes the forearm at the elbow; the contrary movement, extending the forearm, results from the contraction of the triceps. this principle of opposition applies to the entire muscular system. one set of muscles raises the ribs in inspiration, another set lowers them in expiration; one group flexes the fingers and clenches the fist, an opposed set extends the fingers and opens the hand. muscular opposition does not imply that the entire structure is made up of parallel pairs of muscles, like the biceps and triceps, located on opposite sides of the same bone. it means only that the opposed sets pull in contrary directions. each opposed set consists of muscles of about equal strength. under normal conditions of relaxation the entire muscular system exerts a slight degree of contraction. to this normal state of oppositional contraction the name "muscular tonicity" is given. the present purpose does not call for a discussion of the subject of muscular tonicity. this form of contraction has no direct bearing on the performance of voluntary movements. what effect has the voluntary contraction of all the muscles of any member, each opposed set exerting the same degree of strength? no motion of the member results, but the member is brought on tension and stiffened. this is well illustrated in the case of the arm. extend the arm and clench the fist; then contract all the muscles of the arm, about as the athlete does to display his muscular development. you will notice that the arm becomes stiff and tense. this state of tension is commonly called "muscular stiffness," but the term is open to objection. it is really the joints which are stiffened, not the muscles. we are, however, so accustomed to speak of muscular stiffness, and particularly of throat stiffness, that little is to be gained by substituting a more accurate expression. a condition of muscular stiffness results from the contraction of all the muscles of a member, whether this contraction be voluntary or involuntary. this condition does not prevent the normal movements of the member; it only renders the movements more difficult and fatiguing and less effective. it is readily seen why this is the case. more than the necessary strength is exerted by the muscles. suppose the biceps and triceps, for example, each to be contracted with five units of strength; then let some work be performed by the flexing of the forearm, requiring the exertion of two units of strength. in this case the biceps must exert two units of strength more than the triceps, that is, seven units. in all, the two muscles together exert twelve units of strength to accomplish the effective result of two units. six times the needed strength is exerted. activity of this kind is naturally fatiguing. muscular stiffness increases the difficulty of complex movements. not only is unnecessary strength exerted; the stiffness of the joints also interferes with the freedom and facility of motion. but this unfavorable condition does not upset the power of coördination. the instinctive connection between the nerve centers of consciousness and the motor centers is not broken. although hampered in their efforts, the muscles are still able to execute the demands of consciousness. as an illustration of this analysis of muscular stiffness let us consider the actions of writing, when performed under the conditions just described. it is possible to write with the hand and arm in a state of muscular stiffness. but one does not write so easily, so rapidly, nor so well with the arm stiff as with the arm normally relaxed. closer attention must be paid to the forming of the letters, and more effort must be put forth to write with the muscles stiffened; yet the result is not equal to that obtained with less care and labor under normal muscular conditions. all that has been said of muscular stiffness applies with especial force to the vocal organs. like the rest of the muscular system, the muscles of the vocal organs are arranged in opposed pairs and sets. the contraction of all the muscles of the throat, each opposed set or pair exerting about the same degree of strength, causes a condition of throat stiffness. singing is possible in this condition. but the singer's command of the voice is not so complete and satisfactory as under normal conditions. throat stiffness does not altogether deprive the vocal organs of their faculty of instinctive adjustment in obedience to the demands of the ear. to a fair extent the voice is under the command of the singer. the vocal cords adjust themselves readily enough for the desired pitch; tones of the various degrees of loudness and softness can be sung in a fairly satisfactory manner. but the muscles are somewhat hampered in their contractions, and the response to the demands of the ear is not quite perfect. this lack of perfect command is evidenced specially in the quality of the tones. some form of throaty quality always mars the voice when the throat is in a stiffened condition. in this regard the voice refuses to fulfill the demands of the ear. even though the singer hears, and indeed feels, the effects of the muscular tension, and strives to remedy the fault of production, the voice still refuses to respond. this incomplete command of the voice is frequently observed, even among singers of very high standing. at first sight the condition here described seems to disprove the statement that the voice normally obeys the ear. but there is no real contradiction of the psychological law of vocal command in the case of a stiff-throated singer. for one thing, whatever degree of command the singer possesses is obtained in accordance with the law of guidance by the ear. moreover, the failure to secure perfect response is due solely to the interference with the normal workings of the voice, occasioned by the state of throat stiffness. far from this form of muscular contraction being a contradiction of psychological principles, it will be found on examination to be in perfect accord with well-established laws of physiological psychology. it is hardly to be supposed that the singer consciously and voluntarily contracts the muscles of the entire vocal mechanism and so deliberately brings about the stiffening of the throat. true, this can readily be done. we can at will sing throaty and nasal tones. but this form of voluntary throat tension is not, properly speaking, an incorrect vocal action. so long as the vocal organs respond to the demands of the ear, the vocal action is correct. only when the voice refuses to obey can the action be described as incorrect. a satisfactory definition of the various modes of vocal action can now be given. the correct vocal action is the natural operation of the vocal organs; the voice normally obeys the commands of the ear. an incorrect vocal action occurs when the throat is stiffened by the involuntary contraction of the muscles of the vocal mechanism. this definition of the vocal action does not solve the problem of tone-production. it is still to be determined how the involuntary contraction of the throat muscles is caused. chapter ii the causes of throat stiffness and of incorrect vocal action involuntary contractions of the voluntary muscles can occur only as reflex actions. if the muscles of the vocal organs are subject to involuntary contractions, the causes of these contractions must be sought through an investigation of the subject of reflex actions. reflex actions are of several kinds; of these the simplest type, and the one most easily studied, is the muscular contraction due to the excitation of the sensory nerve endings located in the skin. thus when the sole of the foot of a sleeping person is tickled, the leg is at first drawn up and then violently kicked out. an exhaustive discussion of the physiological and psychological features of reflex action is not called for here; a sufficient understanding of the subject may safely be assumed to be possessed by the reader. involuntary muscular contractions often occur as reflex actions without any direct or tactual irritation of the sensory nerve endings. several examples of this form of reflex action are now to be considered. these actions will be seen to be matters of such common experience as to call for no special proof. they are the following: (_a_) reflex actions performed under the influence of sensory impressions other than those of touch or muscular sense. (_b_) involuntary muscular contractions due to nervousness. (_c_) contractions of the muscles of certain members, caused by the turning of the attention specially to the members. (_d_) involuntary contractions of muscles, accompanying the exertion of other associated and antagonist muscles, and due to the radiation of nerve impulse. (_a_) _reflex actions due to sensory impressions other than those of touch or muscular sense_ a wide range of movements is included under this heading. of these it is necessary to mention only a few, such as the sudden start on the hearing of an unexpected noise, the instinctive movement of dodging to escape an approaching missile, and the raising of the arm to ward off an expected blow. actions of a somewhat similar character normally occur in which it is not easy to point to the excitation of any sense or senses. these include the instinctive cowering attitude of fear, the play of facial expression caused by sentiment and emotion, etc. (_b_) _involuntary actions due to nervousness_ a condition of marked nervousness generally causes the involuntary contraction of muscles. who does not recall his earliest attempts at "speaking a piece" in school? the trembling of the lips, the twitching of the arms and hands, and the vain attempts to govern the bodily movements, are an experience painful even in the recollection. movements and contractions due to nervousness are entirely purposeless; they even defy the most earnest efforts at inhibition. a marked feature of this type of involuntary action is the contraction of antagonist groups of muscles, productive of muscular stiffness of the members. an extreme example of this form of nervousness is offered by the unfortunate sufferer from stage fright. in this condition the entire body often stiffens, and purposeful movement of any kind becomes for a time impossible. (_c_) _contractions caused by special attention to certain members_ suppose a small boy of sensitive nature to enter a room suddenly, and to be at once chided for his awkwardness. his body will probably stiffen, and his awkwardness become more pronounced. now call his attention to his hands and tell him he is holding them badly. his arms and hands will immediately become painfully stiff. speak of his feet and his legs come on tension. whatever member his attention is turned to, the muscles of that part contract involuntarily. photographers sometimes have to contend with this form of involuntary action on the part of their sitters. when the hands are to be posed the arms stiffen; so also do the legs, the shoulders, and the neck, each when its turn comes to receive attention. under normal conditions this form of awkwardness is easily overcome. sitting for a photograph soon becomes a simple matter. the boy outgrows the awkward stage and gradually acquires a natural and easy bearing. muscular stiffening due to attention to special members is usually the result of an uncomfortable feeling of being out of one's element, and ill at ease in one's surroundings. so soon as this feeling wears off the tendency to this form of stiffness disappears. (_d_) _contractions of muscles due to the radiation of nerve impulse_ a voluntary exertion of some of the muscles of a member sometimes causes the involuntary contraction of all the other muscles of the part. as will readily be seen, the exercise then takes place under conditions of muscular stiffness. this is commonly a feature of the unskilful and unaccustomed performance of muscular activities. a few examples will serve to illustrate this type of involuntary contraction better than a lengthy discussion of the physio-psychological principles involved. when a novice takes his first lesson in riding a bicycle he clutches the handle bars in a vise-like grip. his knees are so stiff as to bend only with a great exertion of strength. to steer the wheel the learner must put forth his most powerful muscular efforts. a half-hour lesson in bicycle riding often tires the beginner more than an afternoon's ride does the experienced cyclist. this condition of muscular stiffness is due to the contraction of antagonist groups of muscles, involving practically the entire body. in one sense the excessive muscular contractions are involuntary; yet it would not be easy to define where the voluntary element of the contractions leaves off. a similar excessive expenditure of strength may be seen in the attempt of an illiterate laborer to sign his name. he grips the pen as though it were a crowbar, and puts forth enough strength to handle a twenty-pound weight. learning to dance, or to skate, or to row a boat, is usually accompanied in the beginning by this form of muscular stiffness. as skill is acquired by practice in the performance of complex activities, the undue muscular tension of the initial stage is gradually relaxed. there is another way in which the radiation of nerve impulse may be caused, entirely distinct from the lack of use or skill. muscular stiffness may be induced in the case of activities so thoroughly habitual as to be normally performed automatically. the cause of muscular stiffness now to be considered is the attempt to perform complex activities mechanically, that is, by consciously directing the individual component movements and muscular contractions involved in the actions. involuntary contractions of associated and antagonist muscles take place under these conditions, in addition to the voluntary exercise of the muscles normally exerted in the movements. this fact may be illustrated by attempting to write a few lines, and forming every stroke of each letter by a distinct exercise of the will. if you keep up this attempt for ten minutes you will find that you press upon the paper with many times your accustomed weight. the hand stiffens in consequence of the close attention paid to its movements. this stiffness will extend to the arm, and even to the shoulder, if the exercise be continued long enough and with sufficient intensity of attention to the hand. another good illustration of this form of muscular stiffening may be found by walking upstairs, and paying the same kind of attention to the muscular actions. try to ascend a single flight of stairs, performing each elementary movement by a distinct volitional impulse. pause on the first step to secure perfect balance on one foot; raise the other foot, bending the leg at the knee, then place this foot carefully on the next higher step. now gradually shift the weight of the body from the lower to the higher foot; as the body inclines forward, exert the muscles of the back and sides to preserve your balance; then contract the leg muscles so as to raise the body to the higher step, with the weight supported on that foot. repeat this operation for each step. to mount one flight of stairs in this way will tire you more than ascending a half dozen flights in the ordinary automatic way. all four of the types of involuntary muscular contraction just described may be combined in a single instance. an inexperienced violin soloist, such as a student playing at a conservatory recital, often exemplifies this. nervousness and awkwardness cause him to tremble; the scratchy sound of his tones makes him twitch and start; meanwhile, the close attention paid to his fingering and bowing stiffens his arms and completes his difficulty. the vocal organs are peculiarly subject to the forms of involuntary muscular contraction under consideration. each of the causes of muscular tension may exert its special influence on the voice. let us go over the ground once more, this time with special reference to the actions of the throat muscles. _(a) reflex actions of the muscles of the vocal organs, independent of direct sensory excitation_ involuntary actions of the vocal organs normally occur in response to stimuli furnished by the emotions and feelings. every one is familiar with the shout of triumph, the sigh of relief, and the ejaculation of surprise. some emotions cause a convulsive stiffening of the muscles of the vocal organs so complete as to render tone-production for a time absolutely impossible. "speechless with terror," "breathless with apprehension," are expressions which accurately describe psychological processes. a crowd of people watching a difficult rescue of a drowning man is silent so long as the uncertainty lasts. a shout instantly goes up when the rescue is seen to be safely effected. both the silence of the nervous strain and the shout of relief are normal involuntary responses to the emotional states. _(b) the influence of nervousness on the vocal action_ nervous conditions exert a striking influence on the operations of the voice. even when our self-control under trying conditions is complete in all other respects we are often unable to prevent our voices betraying our nervous state. stage fright, an extreme form of nervousness, sometimes deprives the sufferer entirely of the power of speech. this temporary loss of vocal command is not due to an inability to innervate the muscles of the vocal organs; on the contrary, it is caused by extreme muscular stiffness due to the violent, though involuntary, contraction of all the muscles of the vocal organs. under normal conditions, entirely aside from nervousness, the voice instinctively reflects every phase of sentiment and emotion. love and hate, sorrow and joy, anger, fear, and rage, each is clearly expressed by the quality of the tones, independent of the meaning of the spoken words. all these fine shades of tone quality result from muscular adjustments of the vocal mechanism. in some mysterious manner the outflow of motor impulses to the throat muscles is governed by the nervous and emotional states. this form of muscular contraction is in one sense not involuntary. as the voice is voluntarily used, all the muscular contractions involved are voluntary. yet the minute contractions producing tone qualities expressive of emotion are distinctly involuntary. more than this, these contractions cannot usually be inhibited. an angry man cannot make his voice sound other than angry. our voices often betray our feelings in spite of the most earnest efforts at concealment. while the voice always normally and involuntarily adopts the tone quality indicative of the emotional state, this action of the vocal organs may be voluntarily and purposely performed. a perfect command of these fine shades of tone quality renders the voice a very potent instrument of expression. for the purposes of dramatic singing this form of vocal expression might be of great value. it is to be regretted that dramatic singers of this day pay so little attention to purely tonal expressiveness. this is probably due in great measure to the prevalence of throat stiffness, which robs the voice of much of its expressive power. _(c) contractions of the throat muscles, caused by attention to the throat_ when a physician attempts to examine a child's throat, the tendency of the throat muscles to this form of involuntary contractions is apt to be evidenced. the jaw stiffens and the tongue rises; for a time the rebellious little throat refuses to remain quiet and relaxed. people usually have some such difficulty the first time they submit to examination with the laryngoscope. this is very apt to occur, even in the case of experienced singers. needless to say, this form of muscular contraction is entirely involuntary; it even defies the most earnest attempts at prevention. comparatively little experience is required for normal people to overcome this tendency. the throat usually becomes tractable after one or two trials with the laryngoscope. vocalists are well aware of the proneness of one part of the vocal mechanism, the tongue, to stiffen in consequence of direct attention being paid to this member. in this connection frangçon-davies remarks: "when the writer in early student days concentrated his attention upon his tongue he found that this member became very stiff and unruly indeed." (_the singing of the future_, london, .) leo kofler speaks of the same tendency: "tell a pupil to let his tongue lie flat in his mouth; he draws it back till it dams up his throat." (_werner's magazine_, oct., .) _(d) throat stiffness due to the radiation of nerve impulse_ two types of muscular tension due to the radiation of motor impulses were noted; first, the stiffness incident to the early stages of practice in complex activities; second, the stiffness caused by the attempt to perform complex activities in a mechanical manner by paying attention to the individual component movements and contractions. to both these types of muscular stiffness the voice is especially subject. it is not easy to find a perfect illustration of throat stiffness incident to the early stages of instruction in singing. for this the chief reason is that the later form of stiffness, due to the attempt directly to manage the vocal organs, is much more pronounced than the temporary early tension. as good an example as possible would be the following: let some one possessed of a fine natural untrained voice sing a steady tone and then attempt to trill on the same note. the attempted trill will invariably indicate a much higher degree of stiffness than the single tone. several investigators of the voice have noticed the tendency of the throat to stiffen when the singer tries to manage the voice by paying direct attention to the mechanical action. clara kathleen rogers points this out clearly in the following passage: "there exists a possible and a dangerous obstacle to the performance of the natural mission of the voice. that obstacle is what? it is a superfluous and misdirected mental activity which is fruitful of a corresponding obstruction on the part of the body. in the body this obstruction takes the form of superfluous or unnatural tension." (_the philosophy of singing_, n. y., .) prof. scripture describes in scientific language the results of any attempt directly to manage the vocal organs. speaking of the use of the voice under unfavorable conditions, he says: "the attempt is instinctively made by the speaker or singer to correct such a fault by voluntary innervation of the muscles; this cannot succeed perfectly because an increase of innervation brings about contractions of associated and antagonist muscles with the result of changed conditions and changed sounds. such extra muscular effort is, moreover, very fatiguing." (_the elements of experimental phonetics_, .) for the purposes of scientific voice culture this is one of the most important facts which have been determined. the attempt to manage the voice, by paying attention to the mechanical operations of the vocal organs, causes an involuntary contraction of all the throat muscles, and so interferes with the normal instinctive vocal action. even the mere thinking of the throat in singing, and especially in practising, is enough to induce throat stiffness. chapter iii throat stiffness and incorrect singing it is a lamentable fact that most of the singing heard nowadays gives evidence of throat stiffness. perfect singing becomes more rare with each succeeding year. the younger generation of artists in particular evince a marked tendency to this fault of production. considered as a cause of faulty tone-production in singing, throat stiffness is due to only one influence, viz., the attempt to manage the voice by thinking of the vocal organs and their mechanical operations. muscular tension due to nervousness, or to the unskilful nature of first attempts at singing, cannot be looked upon as causing a wrong vocal action. in the case of nervousness the lack of vocal command faithfully reflects the psychological condition of the singer; the imperfect response of the voice is normal to this condition. the stiffness due to first attempts is also perfectly normal. moreover, both these forms of throat stiffness are temporary; they disappear when the cause, nervousness or lack of skill, is removed. throat stiffness does not necessarily destroy the musical character of the voice. very many degrees and varieties of excessive throat tension are possible. the undue muscular exertion may be so slight in degree that the throat stiffness can be detected in the sound of the tones only by a highly sensitive and observant hearer. or on the other hand, the muscles of the entire throat may be so powerfully contracted that the singer has only a very imperfect command of the voice. between the two extremes, perfect tone-production and exaggerated stiffness, every conceivable shade of difference in degree of undue tension might be illustrated in the case of some prominent singer. faulty tone-production manifests itself in two ways; first, in its effects on the tones of the voice; second, in its effects on the singer's throat. let us consider each of these topics separately. _the effect of throat stiffness on the sound of the voice_ in whatever degree throat stiffness is present, to just that extent the voice sacrifices something of its capabilities as a musical instrument. the voice can realize its full natural resources of beauty, range, power, and flexibility only when the throat is absolutely free from undue tension. as regards the quality of the tones, every phase of undue throat tension has its effect on the sound of the voice. these effects are always bad; the same voice is less beautiful when used in a stiffened condition than when perfectly produced. throaty and nasal tones are always more or less harsh and offensive to the sensitive hearer. further, the more pronounced the state of throat stiffness the more marked does the throaty or nasal quality become. under conditions of throat tension the range of the voice is almost always curtailed. the highest and lowest notes possible to any voice can be reached only when the throat is entirely free from stiffness. so also with regard to the varying degrees of power, undue tension prevents the singer from obtaining the extreme effects. a throaty singer's soft tones generally lack the carrying quality. louder tones can be produced with a normally relaxed than with a stiffened throat. real flexibility of voice is impossible to a stiff-throated singer. extreme rapidity and accuracy of muscular adjustments, the physical basis of coloratura singing, cannot be attained when the muscles are hampered by undue tension. a distinct fault of production, the tremolo, is directly due to throat stiffness. a simple experiment illustrates the nature of the muscular action from which the tremolo results. "set" the muscles of the arm by contracting the biceps and triceps with the utmost possible strength. with the arm in this stiffened condition flex and extend the forearm slowly several times. you will notice a pronounced trembling of the arm. why a condition of muscular stiffness should cause the affected member to tremble is not well understood. but the fact admits of no question. it is highly probable that the tremolo is caused by a trembling of the vocal organs, due to muscular stiffness. the tones of a voice afflicted with tremolo always give evidence of extreme throat tension. another bad result of throat stiffness in tone-production is seen in the matter of intonation. tones produced with a stiff throat are seldom in perfect tune. this subject will be more fully treated in a later chapter. _effects of muscular stiffness on the throat_ many of the muscles of the vocal organs, particularly the laryngeal muscles, are extremely small and delicate. under normal conditions these muscles are fully capable of exerting the relatively small amount of strength required of them without strain or injury. but when the voice is used in a stiffened condition the delicate muscles of the larynx are obliged to contract with much more than their normal strength. to borrow an expression of the engineers, the throat muscles are then forced to carry an excessive load. a balanced contraction of antagonist groups of muscles is the muscular basis of throat stiffness. when the voice is used in this condition each muscle of the vocal organs must put forth the amount of effort necessary to produce the desired effect under normal conditions, in addition to an effort equal to the counterbalancing pull of its antagonist muscle. an increase in the degree of throat stiffness demands a corresponding increase in the effort exerted by every muscle of the throat. over-exertion of muscles always results in strain and injury. the extent of the injury to the muscular tissues varies with the degree of excessive exertion and with the duration of the injurious exercise. an advanced stage of muscular strain is distinctly a pathological condition. tone-production in a state of throat stiffness is of necessity injurious to the muscles of the vocal organs. the delicate laryngeal muscles are specially subject to the injurious effects of strain. these effects vary in extent and character, according to the degree of throat stiffness, to the extent and duration of the faulty use of the voice, and to the individual characteristics of the singer. a very slight degree of undue tension may not sensibly injure the voice. even a fairly marked condition of tension, such as is evidenced by the uniformly throaty quality of many baritones and mezzo-sopranos, may be persisted in for years without perceptibly straining the throat or destroying the musical value of the voice. but a misuse of the voice is bound, in the course of time, to show its injurious results on the throat. how many promising young singers are forced to abandon their careers in early life, at the time when their artistic and dramatic powers are just ripening to fruition! a misused voice "wears out" years before its time. most of the throat troubles of singers are directly caused by throat stiffness and muscular strain. dr. mills, among others, touches on this fact. "all the author's experience as a laryngologist tended to convince him that most of those evils from which speakers and singers suffer, whatever the part of the vocal mechanism affected, arise from faulty methods of voice production, or excess in the use of methods in themselves correct." (_voice production in singing and speaking_, phila., .) for the purposes of artistic singing, a voice loses all its value when the injurious effects of throat stiffness become very pronounced. on this account singers are obliged to give up appearing in public before the condition reaches the extreme. it follows therefore that only in the case of public speakers do we see the extreme results of persistence in the wrong use of the voice. "clergyman's sore throat" is the name usually applied to this condition. the sustained use of the voice, under conditions of extreme strain, is exceedingly painful both to the speaker and to the hearer. singers are usually unconscious of throat stiffness unless the condition be very pronounced. neither the sense of hearing nor the muscular sense informs the singer of the state of tension. accustomed to the sound of his own voice, the singer may be unaware of a throaty or nasal quality which he would instantly detect in another voice. this is also true of the muscular sensations of tone-production; habit makes the singer inattentive to the sensations caused by throat tension. throat stiffness always tends to become greater in degree; it is a self-aggravating condition. even though very slight in its beginnings, the state of stiffness obliges the singer to put forth more than the normal effort in order to secure the desired effects. this increase of innervation is not confined to the muscles which need to be more strongly contracted. as prof. scripture points out, it also extends to the associated and antagonist muscles, that is, to all the muscles of the throat. thus the stiffness is increased in degree. still greater exertion is then required, resulting in still greater stiffness. this may go on for years, the voice gradually becoming less responsive to the demands of the singer. individual personal characteristics are an important factor in determining a singer's experience with throat stiffness. some singers are so fortunately constituted as to be almost entirely free from the tendency to stiffen the throat. others detect the tendency in its beginning and find no difficulty in correcting it. still others habituate themselves to some manner of tone-production, and neither increase nor diminish the degree of stiffness. even under modern methods of instruction, many artists are correctly trained from the start and so never stiffen their throats in any way. several traits of character are concerned in determining the individual tendency to throat stiffness. nervous temperament, keenness of ear, artistic and musical endowment, each has its influence in this connection. the great prevalence of throat stiffness among present-day singers is due primarily to the idea of mechanical vocal management as the basis of instruction in singing. not only are modern methods intrinsically worthless, in that a correct use of the voice cannot be attained by the application of mechanical rules. worse than this, the means used for training the voice are such as to defeat their own purpose. at every instant of instruction the student's attention is expressly turned to the vocal organs and to the mechanical operations of the voice. the only possible result of this kind of vocal instruction is to stiffen the throat and so to render the correct vocal action an impossibility. a peculiar contradiction is presented by the modern vocal teacher; his artistic conception of singing is utterly at variance with his ideas of mechanical tone-production. it may safely be said that the vast majority of vocal teachers are thoroughly conversant with the highest standards of artistic singing. they know what effects their pupils ought to obtain. but the means they use for enabling the pupils to get these effects have exactly the contrary result. when the student tries to open the throat this obstinate organ only closes the tighter. attempting to correct a tremolo by "holding the throat steady" causes the throat to tremble all the more. modern voice culture, in its practical aspect, is a struggle with throat stiffness. everything the student does, for the purpose of acquiring direct command of the voice, has some influence in causing the throat to stiffen. telling the student to hold the throat relaxed seldom effects a cure; this direction includes a primary cause of tension,--the turning of attention to the throat. all the teacher can do to counteract the stiffening influence is to give relaxing exercises. these are in most cases efficacious so long as constructive instruction is abandoned, and the relaxing of the throat is made the sole purpose of study. but soon after positive instruction is resumed the tendency to stiffen reappears. as lesson follows after lesson, the stiffness becomes gradually, imperceptibly more pronounced. at length the time again comes for relaxing exercises. a single repetition of this process, relaxing the throat and then stiffening it again, may extend over several months of study. during this time the student naturally learns a great deal about music and the artistic side of singing, and also improves the keenness of the sense of hearing. this artistic development is necessarily reflected in the voice so soon as the throat is again relaxed. it usually happens that students change teachers about the time the voice has become unmanageably stiff. in this condition the student, of course, sings rather badly. a marked improvement in the singing generally results from the change of teachers. this is easy to understand because the new teacher devotes his first efforts to relaxing the stiffened throat. later on this improvement is very likely to be lost, for the second teacher has nothing more of a positive nature to offer than the first. vocal teachers in general seem to be aware of the fact that mechanical instruction causes the student's throat to stiffen. a much-debated question is whether "local effort" is needed to bring about the correct vocal action. the term local effort is used to describe the direct innervation of the throat muscles. a logical application of the mechanical idea absolutely demands the use of local effort. this is the main argument of the local-effort teachers. those teachers who discountenance local effort have only their own experience to guide them. they simply know that local effort results in throat stiffness. yet these teachers have nothing to offer in place of the mechanical management of the vocal organs. even though aware of the evil results of local effort, they yet know of no other means of imparting the correct vocal action. the weakness of the position of these teachers is well summed up by a writer in _werner's magazine_ for june, : "to teach without local effort or local thought is to teach in the dark. every exponent of the non-local-effort theory contradicts his theory every time he tells of it." to that extent this writer states the case correctly. every modern vocal teacher believes that the voice must be consciously guided in its muscular operations. until this erroneous belief is abandoned it is idle for a teacher to decry the use of local effort. chapter iv the true meaning of vocal training in all scientific treatises on the voice it is assumed that the voice has some specifically correct mode of operation. training the voice is supposed to involve the leading of the vocal organs to abandon their natural and instinctive manner of operating, and to adopt some other form of activity. further, the assumption is made that the student of singing must cause the vocal organs to adopt a supposedly correct manner of operating by paying direct attention to the mechanical movements of tone-production. both these assumptions are utterly mistaken. on scientific analysis no difference is seen between the right and the wrong vocal action, such as is assumed in the accepted vocal science. psychological principles do not countenance the idea of mechanical vocal management. yet the fact remains, as a matter of empirical observation, that there is a marked difference between the natural voice and the correctly trained voice. what change takes place in the voice as a result of correct training? singing is a natural function of the vocal organs. learning to sing artistically does not involve a departure from natural and instinctive processes. the training of the voice consists of the acquirement of skill in the use of the vocal organs, and of nothing more. under normal conditions the vocal organs instinctively adjust themselves, by performing the necessary muscular contractions, to fulfill the demands of the ear. in order that a perfect musical tone be produced it is necessary in the first place that the ear be keen and well trained; only such an ear can know the exact sound of a perfect tone, and so demand it of the voice. second, the vocal organs must make repeated efforts to produce the perfect tone, each response approaching nearer to the mentally-conceived tone. two elements are therefore involved in the training of the voice; first, the cultivation of the sense of hearing; second, the acquirement of skill in the use of the voice by the actual practice of singing. practical vocal teachers generally recognize the importance of both these elements of voice culture. only in one way do they fall short of fully realizing the value of ear training and of practice guided by the ear;--they do not see that these two topics sum up the whole material of vocal training. unfortunately, the search after some imaginary means of direct vocal management destroys, in all modern methods, most of the value of the real elements of voice culture. a few citations from standard writers on the voice will show the estimation in which ear-training is held. to begin with, the old italian masters were fully alive to the necessity of cultivating the sense of hearing, as witness tosi: "one who has not a good ear should not undertake either to instruct or to sing." this writer also says in the chapter headed "observations for a student": "let him hear as much as he can the most celebrated singers, and likewise the most excellent instrumental performers; because from the attention in hearing them one reaps more advantage than from any instruction whatsoever." another early writer on the voice, the celebrated adolph bernhard marx, speaks of the advantage derived from the attentive listening to voices: "an important influence is exerted by the frequent attentive hearing of good voices. through this an idea of good tone is strengthened, which gains an influence on the use and also on the training of the organs, not perhaps immediate, but clearly seen in its results." (_die kunst des gesanges_, berlin, .) among modern writers only a few need be mentioned. d. frangçon-davies remarks: "the training of the ear is one half of the training of the voice." (_the singing of the future._) clara kathleen rogers is even more emphatic in her statement: "not to exercise our sense of hearing is to rob it gradually of the habit of acting at all; whereas, if we keep it in exercise, it will daily grow readier, finer, more acute, more analytical, and the ear will serve as an ever more effective medium of reaction on the will." the following remark of the same writer points unmistakably to an understanding of the evil results of the attempt to sing mechanically: "if the singer's attention is directed to any part of the vocal instrument, or even to its motor, the breath, his sense of sound, and his perception of either the beautiful or the bad elements in sound, will grow fainter and fainter." (_the physiology of singing._) as for the purpose of cultivating the sense of hearing, this is also pointed out by several prominent vocal theorists. one of the latest exponents of the traditional method of instruction was stéphen de la madelaine, who remarks: "the first need of the voice is to be guided in its exercise by an ear capable of appreciating naturally its least deviation." (_théorie complète du chant_, paris, .) one of the most recent authoritative writers on voice culture, dr. mills, speaks at length of the necessity of guiding the voice by the sense of hearing. "we cannot too much insist on both speaker and singer attending to forming a connection between his ear and his mouth cavity. he is to hear that he may produce good tones, and the tones cannot be correctly formed if they be not well observed. to listen to one's self carefully and constantly is a most valuable but little practised art. the student should listen as an inexorable critic, accepting only the best from himself." dr. mills touches on the psychological features of the connection between voice and ear. "there can be no doubt that the nervous impulses that pass from the ear to the brain are of all sensory messages the most important guides for the outgoing ones that determine the necessary movements." summing up the matter of ear-training and vocal guidance dr. mills says: "the author would impress on all students of music, and of the voice as used in both singing and speaking, the paramount importance of learning early to listen most attentively to others when executing music; and above all to listen with the greatest care to themselves, and never to accept any musical tone that does not fully satisfy the ear." (_voice production in singing and speaking_, .) one more citation from mrs. rogers must suffice. "and now, in conclusion, let me once more remind the singer that in practising these and all other vocal exercises the ear is the only safe guide." given a fine natural voice and a trained musical ear, skill is acquired in the use of the voice by the repetition of effort. the only necessity is for the singer to have a clear mental conception of the effects to be obtained, and to listen attentively to the voice. with each repetition of an exercise, whether on sustained tones, scale passages, crescendo and diminuendo, or whatever else, the voice responds more smoothly and accurately to the mental demand. each time the student practises the exercise he listens to the tones and notes how they differ from the desired effect; he strives the next time to correct this departure. psychological principles verify the proverb that practice makes perfect. this is true of all complex activities. through repeated performance the muscles, or rather the motor-nerve centers, become habituated to complex activities. coördinations gradually become perfect and automatic because the nerve impulses naturally tend to take the well-worn paths. to this rule the voice is no exception. practice makes perfect, with the voice, as with every other muscular activity. in practical voice culture the ear and the voice are normally trained together. the proper function of the teacher is to guide the student in developing along the two lines. listening to his own voice is a valuable means for the student to develop his sense of hearing. it is for the master to point out the salient qualities and faults in the pupil's tones in order that the pupil may know what to listen for. as the ear gradually becomes keener and better acquainted with the characteristics of perfect singing, it also becomes more exacting in its demands on the voice. in its turn the voice steadily improves in its responsiveness to the ear. skill in using the voice involves something more than has thus far been considered under the head of tone-production. skill in singing is synonymous with finished vocal technique, and the basis of technique is the correctly produced single tone. it is seen that a single tone can be sung correctly when, first, the singer knows the sound of the perfect musical tone, and second, the vocal organs are not hampered by muscular stiffness. when these conditions are fulfilled nothing but practice is needed for the acquirement of technical skill. coloratura singing presents the highest development of vocal technique. dazzling as the effects of coloratura are, they are obtained by the combination of a few simple elements. perfect command of the single tone throughout the entire compass of the voice, with accurately graded crescendo and diminuendo, the clear, rapid, and accurate transition from one note to another in the varying degrees of staccato and legato,--these elements include the whole physical material of vocal technique. training the voice is one concrete process. its component features may be considered separately; the cultivation of the sense of hearing, the acquirement of command of the single tone, and the development of technical skill,--each may be considered apart from its companion processes. but in actual practice the three elements of voice culture cannot be dissociated. the student of singing progresses simultaneously along all three lines. intelligently directed practice in singing results in this simultaneous progress. as the voice depends for guidance on the ear, so the ear benefits by the improvement of the voice. each advance made by the voice toward the perfect production of tone is marked by a greater facility in the technical use of the voice. correct tone-production cannot be directly acquired by the singing of single tones. this practice would tend to stiffen the throat. technique and tone-production must be developed together. there is a difference between the natural and the properly trained voice. as to the nature of this difference the facts of empirical observation are borne out by the results of scientific analysis. the natural voice is crude because it is unskilfully used. a lack of facility is revealed in the untrained singer's handling of the voice. intonations are imperfect; transitions from note to note are rough; the whole effect indicates that the voice is not completely under the command of the singer. further, the sound of the individual tones betrays faults of production. the tones are more or less throaty or nasal, or indicative of some degree of muscular tension. a perfectly used voice, on the other hand, convinces the hearer that the singer has full command of all the resources of the vocal organs. each tone is a perfect musical sound, free from fault or blemish. the voice moves from one note to another with ease and with purity of intonation. all the gradations of loud and soft, all the lights and shades of sentiment or passion, seem to respond directly to the singer's instinctive desire for musical expression. on the physical side the singer's voice is felt by the hearer to be in a condition of balanced and harmonious muscular activity. when the possessor of a good natural voice goes through a proper course of vocal training, the faults of production native to the untrained voice are gradually corrected. wrong muscular tension is imperceptibly relaxed. little by little the student acquires facility in handling the voice. coincident with this progress is the advance toward the correct vocal action. the transition from the natural to the perfect use of the voice is gradual and imperceptible. there is no stage of progress at which the operations of the voice radically change in character. at no time does the student change the manner of managing the voice. effects difficult at first gradually become easier, simply as the result of practice. this is the only change that the voice undergoes in training. one influence, and only one, can interfere with this normal development of the voice. this is the involuntary and unconscious stiffening of the throat. in the normal practice of singing nothing is involved which could cause the throat to stiffen. true, the first stages of study are usually marked by a slight degree of stiffness, due solely to the lack of practice and experience. this initial stiffness does not tend to become habitual; it disappears before the student becomes aware of it, and leaves no permanent trace on the voice. that is, provided mechanical instruction does not intervene, to introduce the tendency directly to stiffen the throat. as the initial stiffness disappears, and the vocal action gradually becomes smooth and automatic, the voice begins to take on the characteristics of perfect tone-production. the voice rounds out, the tones become free and true, and in perfect tune. no excessive throat tension being present, the voice conforms to the correct empirical standard of tone-production. it gives evidence to the ear of correct support and of open throat. the tones issue freely from the mouth and convey no impression of throat or nose. as a matter of experience it is known that vocal students generally make satisfactory progress in the first few months of study. this is perfectly natural. it requires several months for the normally constituted student to grasp the idea of mechanical vocal management. gifted with a fine voice, the natural impulse of any one is to sing. by singing naturally the voice is bound to improve. just so soon as the student begins to understand the meaning of attempted mechanical guidance of the voice, the evil effects of throat stiffness begin to be manifest. the more earnest and intelligent students are often the worst sufferers from throat stiffness. they more readily grasp the mechanical doctrines of modern methods and apply the mechanical idea more thoroughly. there is in reality no problem of tone-production such as the accepted theory of voice culture propounds. the voice does not require to be taught how to act. tone-production was never thought to involve any mechanical problem until the attention of vocalists was turned to the mechanical operations of the voice. this dates, roughly speaking, from about . since that time the whole tendency of voice culture has been mechanical. nowadays the entire musical world is acquainted with the idea that the voice must be directly guided; hardly any one has ever heard this belief contradicted. to say that the voice needs no guidance other than the ear would seem utterly preposterous to the average lover of singing. it is even highly probable that this statement would not be understood. yet there is strong evidence that the old italian masters would have had equal difficulty in grasping the idea of mechanical vocal management. how long it will take for the vocal profession to be persuaded of the error of the mechanical idea only the future can determine. probably the most important fact about vocal training is the following: the voice is benefited by producing beautiful tones, and is injured by producing harsh sounds. a tone of perfect beauty can be sung only when the vocal organs are free from unnecessary tension. the nearer the tones approach to the perfection of beauty, the closer does the voice come to the correct action. healthy exercise of the voice, with the throat free from strain, strengthens and develops the throat muscles. harsh and unmusical sounds, produced by the voice, indicate that the throat is in a condition of injurious tension. singing under these circumstances strains and weakens the muscles of the throat and injures the voice. the harsher the tones the worse they are for the voice. beauty of tone is the only criterion of the correct vocal action. by listening to himself the singer may know whether his tone-production is correct. if the tones are beautiful the tone-production cannot be wrong. the ear must always decide. a normally constituted ear instinctively delights in hearing beautiful sounds. while attentive listening renders the ear more keen and discriminating, no vocal student of average gifts need be told the meaning of tonal beauty. instinct prompts the possessor of a fine natural voice and a musical ear to sing, and to sing beautiful tones. no normally constituted student can take pleasure in the practice of mechanical exercises. this form of study is repugnant to the musical sensibility. vocal students want to sing; they feel instinctively that the practice of mechanical exercises is not singing. a prominent exponent of mechanical instruction complains: "i tell them to take breathing exercises three times a day--but they all want to go right to singing songs." (_werner's magazine_, april, .) these students are perfectly right. they know instinctively that the voice can be trained only by singing. there is no connection between artistic singing and the practice of toneless breathing exercises. "five finger drills" and studies in broken scales of the types generally used are also utterly unmusical. mechanical drills, whether toneless or vocal, have little effect other than to induce throat stiffness. chapter v imitation the rational basis of voice culture it is generally assumed by vocal theorists that the voice cannot be trained by imitation. browne and behnke state this belief definitely: "singing cannot be learned exclusively by imitation." (_voice, song, and speech._) having ascertained the futility of the attempt to teach singing mechanically, it is now in order to determine the truth or falsity of the statement that the exercise of the imitative faculty alone does not suffice for the training of the voice. in the first place, no one has ever thought of questioning the existence of an instinct of vocal imitation. on the contrary, this instinct is everywhere recognized. in childhood we learn to speak our mother tongue by imitating the speech of those about us. "talking proper does not set in till the instinct to _imitate sounds_ ripens in the nervous system." (_the principles of psychology_, wm. james, new york, .) vocal imitation would be impossible without the ability of the voice to produce sounds in obedience to the commands of the ear. this ability the voice normally possesses; spoken language could not otherwise exist. the voice can imitate a wide range of sounds. if the perfect vocal tone can be shown to be included in this range of sounds, then the voice can be trained by imitation. exceptional powers of vocal imitation are sometimes developed. vaudeville performers are by no means rare who can imitate the tones of the oboe, the clarinet, the muted trumpet, and several other instruments. imitation of the notes and songs of birds is also a familiar type of performance. this peculiar gift of imitation results in each case from some special structure of the vocal organs. one performer can imitate the reed instruments, another the lighter brasses, and so on. just what peculiar formation of the vocal organs is required for this type of imitative ability need not be inquired here. all that need be noted is, that the vocal organs must be so constructed as to be able to produce the particular quality of sound. given this natural ability on the part of the vocal organs, the power to produce the tone quality is developed by repeated attempts at imitation. the possessor of the natural gift perfects this gift by practice. for practice in the imitation of sounds to be effective it is necessary that the ear be well acquainted with the tone quality to be reproduced. in addition, the practice must be guided by the performer listening closely to the sounds produced by the vocal organs, and constantly comparing these sounds to the tones of the instrument chosen for imitation. this vocal imitation of instruments is not a normal ability; the tones of the oboe and trumpet do not lie within the range of qualities native to the normal voice. but the quality of the perfect vocal tone is unquestionably within the range of every voice so constituted as to be capable of artistic singing. a fine natural voice normally produces beautiful tones. it is only with this type of voice that voice culture is concerned. such a voice must be capable of producing the perfect vocal tone. can it learn to produce this quality of tone by imitation? it cannot be questioned that the faulty tones of one voice can readily be imitated by another voice. any one endowed with normal powers of speech can imitate a markedly nasal speaking voice. this is equally true of a nasal tone in singing, and of a strongly throaty tone as well. the more marked the fault of production the more readily it is heard and the more easily it can be imitated. let us imagine the case of a vocal teacher who undertakes to teach a gifted pupil by having the pupil imitate tones of faulty production, and gradually correcting the faults in the tones sung as a model for the pupil. the master is of course understood to have perfect command of his own voice. suppose this master to begin the course of instruction by singing for the pupil tones of exaggerated throaty quality, and bidding the pupil to imitate these tones. naturally, the pupil would have no difficulty in doing so. at the next lesson the master would very slightly improve the quality of the tones sung as a model for the pupil's imitation. the student would listen to these tones and model his daily practice accordingly. just so soon as the student had succeeded in correctly reproducing this slightly less throaty tone the master would again set a slightly improved model. with each successive step the master might eliminate, one by one, the faults of his own tone-production. following the same course, the pupil would also gradually approach a correct model of tone. finally, all the faults of tone-production having been corrected, both of master and pupil, the latter would be called upon to imitate perfect vocal tones. it would necessarily follow either that the student would successfully imitate the master's perfect tones or that at some point in this progress the student's imitative faculty would be found lacking. could any point be located at which the student would be unable to imitate the teacher's voice? this could certainly not be in the early stages of the course. any one can imitate a very bad throaty or nasal tone. this being done, the imitation of a slightly less faulty tone would also present no difficulty. a second improvement in the master's model tone would again be readily imitated, and so on, with each succeeding correction of the faults of production. when the last trace of faulty production in the student's voice had been eliminated, he would be singing perfect tones. it is utterly impossible to define a point in this progress at which the pupil would be unable to imitate the teacher's voice. if a bad fault of production can be imitated, so can a comparatively slight fault. further, if the pupil can correct his pronounced faulty production by imitating a tone not quite so faulty, so can he improve upon this tone by imitating a still better model of production. this process of gradual improvement by imitation must be capable of continuation until the last fault is eliminated. no limit can be set to the ability of the voice to improve its manner of tone-production by imitation. it must therefore be concluded that the perfect vocal action can be acquired by imitation. in practical voice culture, learning to sing by imitation means simply the cultivation of the sense of hearing and the guidance of the voice by the ear. in other words, those vocal theorists who insist upon ear training commit themselves to the theory of imitative voice culture. what necessity is there of mechanical management of the vocal organs if the voice is to be guided by the ear? even if mechanical management of the voice were possible it would be entirely superfluous. the voice needs no other guidance than the singer's sense of hearing. here another striking question is encountered: why should the vocal organs be thought to be unable to adjust themselves for the tone quality demanded by the ear any more than for the pitch? no vocal theorist has ever thought to formulate rules for securing the tension of the vocal cords necessary for the desired pitch. this is always left to instinctive processes. no one would ever undertake to question the voice's ability to sing by imitation a note of any particular pitch. what valid reason can be given for denying the corresponding ability regarding tone quality? only one answer can be made to this question. the whole matter of mechanical vocal management rests on pure assumption. no scientific proof has ever been sought for the belief that the voice requires mechanical management. this necessity is always assumed, but the assumption is utterly illogical. the vocal organs adjust themselves for the imitation of tone quality by exactly the same psychological processes as for the imitation of pitch. neither pitch nor tone quality can be regulated in any other way than by the guidance of the ear. imitation furnishes the only means of acquiring the correct vocal action. several authorities on the voice admit the value of imitation, even though they also make much of the mechanical doctrines of modern methods. sieber gives imitation as the best means of curing faults of production. "the best means to free the student of the three forms of faulty tone just described is possessed by that teacher who is able to imitate these faults with his own voice." (_vollständiges lehrbuch der gesangskunst_, ferd. sieber, .) dr. mills goes further and advocates the imitating of finished singers for the purpose of acquiring the correct vocal action. "the author would recommend all students who have begun a serious practical study of the registers to hear, if possible, some singer of eminence who observes register formation strictly." (_voice production in singing and speaking_, phila., .) kofler even declares that imitation is an indispensable element of instruction. "it is just as difficult or impossible to learn to sing good tones without hearing the teacher's pure model tone as it is difficult or impossible to learn to speak without hearing." (_the art of breathing_, leo kofler, .) if the correct vocal action is to be acquired by imitation, of what use are the mechanical doctrines of vocal management? kofler seeks to combine these two forms of instruction. "physiological theories must go hand in hand with the musical ear or the law of imitation." scientifically considered, this attempted combination of mechanical vocal training and instruction by imitation is an utter absurdity. there is no possibility of connection between vocal imitation and mechanical vocal management. reliance on the imitative faculty involves the utter rejection of the mechanical idea. compromise, or combination of the two, is a logical absurdity. imitation and attempted mechanical management of the voice are absolutely incompatible. any attempt consciously to direct the muscular workings of the vocal organs is an interference with the normal action of the voice. so soon as conscious mechanical management of the voice is attempted throat stiffness results, and the voice is hampered in the exercise of its instinctive faculty of imitation. it is impossible to acquire the correct vocal action by the application of mechanical rules, because a consistent following of mechanical doctrines utterly prevents the vocal organs from operating normally, even though the student try at the same time to guide the voice by the sense of hearing. a close scrutiny of the practices of modern vocal teachers reveals convincing evidence that all their successes are due to a reliance, conscious or unconscious, on the imitative faculty. teachers are as a rule not aware of the appeal to the instinct of imitation; neither indeed do the students usually pay much attention to this feature of their lessons. much of modern vocal instruction is dual in character. when, for example, the teacher wishes to correct a marked fault in the pupil's tone-production, he adopts this dual mode of imparting his ideas. first, he explains to the pupil the (supposed) mechanical operation; second, he imitates the pupil's faulty production and then sings a correct tone to show how it should be produced. for the teacher to sing the correct tone takes but a few seconds and requires almost no thought. the mechanical explanation, on the other hand, calls for much more of time, and of voluntary attention, from both master and student. it thus follows that they both look upon the mechanical rule as the important matter, and consider the teacher's perfect tone as merely an illustration of the rule. in most cases the student strives to apply the mechanical rule, particularly in home practice between lessons. under these circumstances the voice does not respond satisfactorily. but it often happens that the student pays little attention to the mechanical rule, and simply imitates the teacher's voice. there being then nothing to interfere, the student's voice naturally responds. the master ascribes this satisfactory result to the application of the mechanical doctrine, while in fact the result is due to the student's complete ignoring of the doctrine. vocal imitation is often completely unconscious. individuals vary greatly, as regards the tendency to unconscious imitation. of two english lads coming to america at the age of fifteen, one may be found ten years later to have entirely lost the english accent, the other may retain it all his life. this difference in individual traits has much to do with determining to what extent the vocal student may unconsciously imitate correct models of singing. other characteristics are also influential in this regard. some students so dislike to sing mechanically that they neglect, in their home study, to practise their exercises in the prescribed way. this is often due to an instinctive abhorrence of harsh sounds. other students are so gifted with the true feeling for vocal melody that mechanical instruction makes no impression on them. as a general rule, the reliance on the imitative faculty in modern vocal instruction is entirely unconscious on the part of both master and pupil. adherence to the mechanical idea excludes from the student's mind all thought of any means of vocal guidance other than mechanical. this is true, even in the most common form of instruction, imitation and mechanical doctrine combined. as regards the master, his only conscious exercise of the imitative faculty is the reproduction of the pupil's faulty tones. he seldom thinks of telling the pupil to imitate his own correctly produced tones. imitation supplies the only practical means for training voices. all the elements of voice culture are combined in one simple process, when the master sings correctly, and the student imitates the master. this exercise of the imitative faculty may be made to suffice for both the training of the ear and the cultivation of the voice. on practical, as well as on scientific grounds, imitation is the only rational basis of a method of voice culture. chapter vi the old italian method to the believer in the necessity of direct mechanical management of the voice, the old italian method is a complete mystery. modern vocal theorists are at a loss to account for the success of the old masters in training voices. many authorities go so far as to assert that these masters possessed some insight into the operations of the vocal organs, along the lines of accepted vocal science. in their introductory chapter, "a plea for vocal physiology," browne and behnke attempt to prove that the old masters studied the anatomy of the vocal organs. but even if this could be proved, that would not solve the mystery of the old method. modern teachers are certainly as well acquainted with the mechanical features of tone-production as the old masters were. yet, judged by their results, modern methods are distinctly inferior to the old italian method. there is absolutely no ground for the belief that the old masters owed their success to a knowledge of vocal physiology. this idea of ascribing scientific knowledge to the early teachers results only from erroneous belief that no other means of training the voice is possible. it may be set down as absolutely certain that the old method was not based on the principles of the accepted vocal science. yet the old masters undoubtedly possessed some means of training voices. they must have known something about the voice. their knowledge, whatever it was, is commonly believed to have been lost. many modern teachers claim to have inherited the old method. still these teachers have nothing to offer beyond the well-known doctrines of breathing, breath-control, forward tone, etc. how these doctrines might have been applied in practical instruction nobody is able to tell. little attention need be paid to the claim of any modern teacher to possess the old italian method of training voices. so early as garcia remarked the dearth of information of a literary character bearing on the old method. "unfortunately this epoch has left us only vague and incomplete documents bearing on its traditions. of the methods then followed we have only an approximate and confused idea." (_École de garcia_, mayence, .) although familiar with the works of tosi and mancini, garcia was unable to find in their writings any hint of the means used for imparting the correct vocal action. this same remark is made by many other investigators. yet a reconstruction of the old method is not necessarily a matter of conjecture. once the possibility of training the voice by imitation is established, the old italian method is easily understood. speaking of the glorious past of the art of voice culture, dr. mills says: "we have advanced, musically, in many respects since the days of the old italian masters, but just as we must turn to the greeks to learn what constitutes the highest and best in sculpture, so must we sit at the feet of these old masters. consciously or unconsciously they taught on sound physiological principles." (_voice production in singing and speaking._) dr. mills' statement might be more complete if it were made to read, "consciously or unconsciously they taught on sound physiological and psychological principles." vocal instruction on sound principles is simply the training of the voice by imitation. with the scientific basis of their method--the laws of physiological psychology--the old masters were utterly unacquainted. vocal imitation is purely instinctive. probably the old masters could not even have formulated a concise statement of their reasons for relying on the imitative faculty. garcia's complaint of the dearth of literary information regarding the old method is by no means justified. naturally there is no record of any means for imparting a direct mechanical management of the voice. nothing of the kind was thought of. but as a description of a course in voice training by imitation, the works of tosi and mancini leave little to be desired. both tosi and mancini devote by far the greater portion of their books to describing the ornaments and embellishments of vocal music. they take up the singer's education from the beginning and seem to assume, as a matter of course, that the training in the art of music is coincident, if not indeed identical, with the cultivation of the voice. but they do not by any means neglect the subject of tone-production. most modern readers of these early writers overlook the simple directions given for securing a proper use of the voice. this is, of course, due to the current belief that directions for vocal management must of necessity deal with mechanical and muscular operations. finding nothing of this kind in tosi and mancini, the modern investigator concludes that these writers for some reason failed to record the means used for imparting the correct vocal action. all that can be found by such an investigator in the works of tosi and mancini is an outline of an elaborate system of coloratura singing. much more is seen when the meaning of imitative voice culture is understood. let us consider first the "observations" of tosi. this writer devotes his first few pages to some remarks on the art of singing, and to a general consideration of the practices of voice culture. almost at the outset we meet this striking statement: "it would be needless to say that verbal instruction would be of no use to singers any farther than to prevent 'em falling into errors, and that it is practice alone can set them right." that is certainly a sound principle. consider also this passage. "the faults in singing insinuate themselves so easily into the minds of young beginners, and there are such difficulties in correcting them, when grown into an habit, that it were to be wished the ablest singers would undertake the task of teaching, they best knowing how to conduct the scholar from the first elements to perfection. but there being none (if i mistake not) but who abhor the thoughts of it, we must reserve them for those delicacies of the art, which enchant the soul. therefore the first rudiments necessarily fall to a master of a lower rank, till the scholar can sing his part at sight; whom one would at least wish to be an honest man, diligent and experienced, without the defects of singing through the nose, or in the throat, and that he have a command of voice, some glimpse of a good taste, able to make himself understood with ease, a perfect intonation, and a patience to endure the fatigue of a most tiresome employment." this brings out three striking facts. first, that the student learned to use his voice by imitating the voice of the master. second, that the initial work of "voice placing" was merely an incident in the training in sight singing and the rudiments of music. third, that "voice placing" was considered of too little importance to claim the attention of masters of the first rank. this feature of instruction, so important now as to overshadow all else, was at that time left to masters of a lower rank. this passage is followed by a short discourse on the rudiments of _sol fa_, a subject of only academic interest to the modern student. we are so thoroughly accustomed nowadays to the diatonic scale that it is almost impossible for us to understand the old system of _muance_ or _solmisation_. suffice it to say that only four keys were known, and that each note was called by its full sol-fa name. thus d was called _d-la-sol-re_, c was _c-sol-fa-ut_, etc. in studying sight singing, the student pronounced the full name of each note in every exercise. instruction in singing began with this study of sight reading. in the course of this practice the student somehow learned to produce his voice correctly. tosi does not leave us in doubt what was to be done in order to lead the pupil to adopt a correct manner of tone-production. "let the master do his utmost to make the scholar hit and sound the notes perfectly in tune in _sol-fa-ing_.... let the master attend with great care to the voice of the scholar, which should always come forth neat and clear, without passing through the nose or being choaked in the throat." to sing in tune and to produce tones of good quality,--this summed up for tosi the whole matter of tone-production. many teachers in the old days composed _sol-fa_ exercises and vocalises for their own use. tosi did not think this indispensable. but he points out the need of the teacher having an extensive repertoire of graded exercises and vocalises. to his mind these should always be melodious and singable. "if the master does not understand composition let him provide himself with good examples of _sol-fa-ing_ in divers stiles, which insensibly lead from the most easy to the most difficult, according as he finds the scholar improves; with this caution, that however difficult, they may be always natural and agreeable, to induce the scholar to study with pleasure." how many months of study were supposed to be required for this preliminary course we have no means of judging from tosi's work. at any rate the combining of the registers was accomplished during this time. tosi's description of the registers is very concise. "_voce di petto_ is a full voice which comes from the breast by strength, and is the most sonorous and expressive. _voce di testa_ comes more from the throat than from the breast, and is capable of more volubility. _falsetto_ is a feigned voice which is formed entirely in the throat, has more volubility than any, but of no substance." he speaks of the necessity of uniting the registers, but gives no directions how this is to be accomplished. evidently this seemed to him to present no difficulty whatever. in this early period of instruction the pupil was exercised in both _portamento_ and _messa di voce_. "let him learn the manner to glide with the vowels, and to drag the voice gently from the high to the lower note.... in the same lessons let him teach the art to put forth the voice, which consists in letting it swell by degrees from the softest _piano_ to the loudest _forte_, and from thence with the same art return from the _forte_ to the _piano_. a beautiful _messa di voce_ can never fail of having an excellent effect." only the first chapter of tosi's book is devoted to this initial study. that the student was expected to make steady progress as a result of this study is evident from the closing sentence of this chapter. "the scholar having now made some remarkable progress, the instructor may acquaint him with the first embellishments of the art, which are the _appoggiaturas_, and apply them to the vowels." the remainder of the work is devoted almost entirely to the embellishments of singing. here and there an interesting passage is found. "after the scholar has made himself perfect in the shake and the divisions, the master should let him read and pronounce the words." (shake was the old name for trill, and division for run.) again, "i return to the master only to put him in mind that his duty is to teach musick; and if the scholar, before he gets out of his hands, does not sing readily and at sight, the innocent is injured without remedy from the guilty." this injunction might well be taken to heart by the modern teacher. good sight readers are rare nowadays, outside of chorus choirs. mancini begins his outline of the course of instruction in singing with this striking sentence: "nothing is more insufferable and more inexcusable in a musician than wrong intonation; singing in the throat or in the nose will certainly be tolerated rather than singing out of tune." this is followed by the advice to the teacher to ascertain beyond a doubt that a prospective pupil is endowed with a true musical ear. this being done the pupil is to begin his studies by _sol-fa_-ing the scales. "having determined the disposition and capacity of the student with respect to intonation, and finding him able and disposed to succeed, let him fortify himself in correct intonation by _sol-fa_-ing the scale, ascending and descending. this must be executed with scrupulous attention in order that the notes may be perfectly intoned." in this practice the quality of the tone is of the highest importance. "the utmost care is necessary with the student to render him able to manage this portion of his voice with the proper sweetness and proportion." mancini takes it for granted that the student will progress steadily on account of this practice. "when the teacher observes that the pupil is sufficiently free in delivering the voice, in intonation, and in naming the notes, let him waste no time, but have the pupil vocalize without delay." regarding the registers, mancini disagrees with tosi and names only two. "voices ordinarily divide themselves into two registers which are called, one of the chest, the other of the head, or falsetto." his method was to exercise the voice at first in the chest register, and then gradually to extend the compass of the voice upward. "every student can for himself with perfect ease recognize the difference between these two separate registers. it will suffice therefore to commence by singing the scale, for example, if a soprano, from g to d;[ ] let him take care that these five notes are sonorous, and say them with force and clearness, and without effort." for uniting the registers, "the most certain means is to hold back the tones of the chest and to sing the transition notes in the head register, increasing the power little by little." [note : mancini of course uses the _sol-fa_ names of these notes.] mancini devotes a few pages to a description of the vocal organs. this fact is cited by several modern theorists in support of their statement that the old masters based their methods on mechanical principles. in the following chapter this topic of mancini's treatise will be considered. probably the best summary of the old italian method offered by any modern teacher is contained in a little booklet by j. frank botume, entitled _modern singing methods_. (boston, . the citations are from the fourth edition, .) speaking of the meaning of the word method, as applied to a system of rules for acquiring the correct vocal action, this writer says: "if a teacher says, 'that tone is harsh, sing more sweetly,' he has given no method to his pupil. he has asked the scholar to change his tone, but has not shown him how to do it. if, on the other hand, he directs the pupil to keep back the pressure of the breath, or to change the location of the tone; if he instructs him in regard to the correct use of his vocal cords, or speaks of the position of his tongue, of his diaphragm, of his mouth, etc., he gives him method. the italian teachers of the early period of this art had so little method that it can hardly be said to have existed with them. in fact, the word method, as now used, is of comparatively modern origin. the founders of the art of singing aimed at results directly; the manner of using the vocal apparatus for the purpose of reaching these results troubled them comparatively little. the old italian teacher took the voice as he found it. he began with the simplest and easiest work, and trusted to patient and long-continued exercise to develop the vocal apparatus. in all this there is no method as we understand the term. the result is aimed at directly. the manner of getting it is not shown. there is no conscious control of the vocal apparatus for the purpose of effecting a certain result." this sums up beautifully the external aspects of the old italian method, and of modern methods as well. it points out clearly the difference between the old and the modern system. but it is a mistake to say that the old masters followed no systematized plan of instruction. tosi's advice, already quoted ("let the master provide himself with examples of sol-fa, leading insensibly from the easy to the difficult," etc.), shows a thorough grasp of the meaning of methodical instruction. once the real nature of vocal training is understood, both tosi and mancini are seen to describe a well worked out system of voice culture. the only important difference between the old and the new system is this: one relied on instinctive and imitative processes for imparting the correct vocal action, the other seeks to accomplish the same result through the mechanical management of the vocal organs. in this regard the advantage is all on the side of the old italian method. one question regarding the old method remains to be answered. this has to do with the use of the empirical precepts in practical instruction. so far as the written record goes we have no means of answering this question. neither tosi nor mancini mentions the old precepts in any way. the answer can therefore be only conjectural. we may at once dismiss the idea that the old masters used the precepts in the currently accepted manner as rules for the mechanical management of the voice. this application of the empirical precepts followed upon the acceptance of the idea of mechanical voice culture. a fine description of perfect singing, considered empirically, was found to be embodied in the traditional precepts. such a description of correctly produced tone might be of great value in the training of the ear. the sense of hearing is developed by listening; and attentive listening is rendered doubly effective in the singer's education by the attention being consciously directed to particular characteristics of the sounds observed. a highly important aspect of ear training in voice culture is the acquainting the student with the highest standards of singing. the student derives a double advantage from listening to artistic singing when he knows what to listen for. telling the student that in perfect singing the throat seems to be open makes him keenly attentive in observing this characteristic sound of the correctly produced tone. this seems to be the most effective manner of utilizing the empirical precepts. a student may be helped in imitating correct models of singing by knowing what characteristics of the tones it is most important to reproduce. in pointing out to the student his own faults of production, the judicious use of the precepts might also be of considerable value. probably the old masters treated the precepts about in this fashion. chapter vii the disappearance of the old italian method and the development of mechanical instruction one of the most mysterious facts in the history of voice culture is the utter disappearance of the old italian method. this has occurred in spite of the earnest efforts of vocal teachers to preserve the old traditions. if the conclusions drawn in the preceding chapter are justified, the old method consisted of a system of teaching singing by imitation. assuming this to be true, there should now be no difficulty in accounting for the disappearance of the imitative method by tracing the development of the mechanical idea. imitative voice culture was purely empirical in the ordinary meaning of this word. the old masters did not knowingly base their instruction on any set of principles. they simply taught as their instincts prompted them. there can now be no doubt that the old masters were fully justified in their empiricism. they taught singing as nature intends it to be taught. but the old masters were not aware of the scientific soundness of their position. so soon as the correctness of empirical teaching was questioned they abandoned it without an attempt at defense. as a system of voice culture, the old method occupied a weak strategic position. with absolute right on its side, it still had no power of resistance against hostile influences. this does not imply that the old masters were ignorant men. on the contrary, the intellectual standard of the vocal profession seems to have been fully as high two hundred years ago as to-day. even famous composers and musical theorists did not disdain to teach singing. but this very fact, the generally high culture of the old masters, was an important factor in the weakness of the old method against attack. the most intelligent masters were the ones most likely to abandon the empirical system in favor of supposedly scientific and precise methods of instruction. the hostile influence to which the old italian method succumbed was the idea of mechanical vocal management. this idea entered almost imperceptibly into the minds of vocal teachers in the guise of a scientific theory of voice culture. a short historical sketch will bring this fact out clearly. this necessitates a repetition of some of the material of chapter i of part i; the entire subject will however appear in a new light now that the true nature of the mechanical idea is understood. from the founding of the art of voice culture, about , up to , no vocalist seems to have paid any attention to the anatomy or muscular movements of the vocal organs. in a french physician, ferrein, presented to the academy of sciences a treatise on the anatomy of the vocal organs, entitled "de la formation de la voix de l'homme." this treatise was published in the same year, and it seems to have attracted at once the attention of the most enlightened masters of singing. that ferrein was the first to call the attention of vocalists to the mechanical features of tone-production is strongly indicated in the german translation of tosi's "observations." in the original italian edition, , and the english translation, , there is absolutely no mention of the anatomy or physiology of the vocal organs. but in preparing the german edition, published in , the translator, j. f. agricola, inserted a description of the vocal organs which he credited directly to ferrein. mancini followed agricola's example, and included in this "riflessioni" ( ) a brief description of the vocal organs. but mancini made no attempt to apply this description in formulating a system of instruction. he recommends the parents of a prospective singer to ascertain, by a physician's examination, that the child's vocal organs are normal and in good health. he also gives one mechanical rule, so obvious as to seem rather quaint. "every singer must place his mouth in a natural smiling position, that is, with the upper teeth perpendicularly and moderately removed from the lower." beyond this mancini says not a word of mechanical vocal management. there is no mention of breathing, or tone reflection, or laryngeal action. although mancini borrowed his description of the vocal organs from ferrein, his notion of the mechanics of tone-production was very crude. "the air of the lungs operates on the larynx in singing exactly as it operates on the head of the flute." voice culture has passed through three successive periods. from to instruction in singing was purely empirical. ferrein's treatise may be said to mark the beginning of a transition period during which empirical instruction was gradually displaced by so-called scientific methods. this transition period lasted, roughly speaking, till the invention of the laryngoscope in . since that time vocal instruction has been carried on almost exclusively along mechanical lines. no vocal teacher had ever heard of a problem of tone-production previous to , and indeed for many years thereafter. the earlier masters were not aware of any possibility of difficulty in causing the voice to operate properly. their success justified their ignoring of any mechanical basis of instruction; but even of this justification the later masters of the old school were only dimly conscious. they builded better than they knew. when any teacher of the transition period was called upon to explain his manner of imparting the correct vocal action he was at once put on the defensive. no champion of the imitative faculty could be found. this lack of understanding of the basis of the empirical method, on the part of its most intelligent and successful exponents, was the first cause of the weakness of this method against attack. another source of weakness in the hold of empirical systems on the vocal profession was seen in the generally high intellectual standard of the more prominent teachers. these masters gladly accepted the new knowledge of the basis of their art, offered them in the description of the vocal organs. thoroughly conversant with every detail of the empirical knowledge of the voice, the masters of the transition period were well prepared to understand something of the mechanical features of tone-production. by their auditory and muscular sensations of vocal tone they were able, to their own satisfaction at least, to verify the statements of the anatomists. it is not easy for us to put ourselves mentally in the position of a vocalist, thoroughly familiar with the empirical knowledge of the voice, and yet ignorant of the first principles of vocal mechanics. in all probability the early masters were not even aware that tone is produced by the action of the breath on the larynx. they did not know that different qualities and pitches result from special adjustments and contractions of the throat muscles. yet they were keenly aware of all the muscular sensations resulting from these contractions. we can well imagine how interesting these vocalists of the early transition period must have found the description of the cartilages and muscles of the throat. it seems to us but a short step from the study of vocal mechanics to the application of the results of this study in the formulating of a practical system of vocal instruction. yet it required more than sixty years for the vocal profession to travel so far. even then the true bearing of this development of voice culture was but dimly realized. in the mechanical management of the voice was not even thought of. this is conclusively proved by a most important work, the _méthode de chant du conservatoire de musique_, published in paris in . there can be no question that this méthode represents the most enlightened and advanced thought of the vocal profession of that day. not only does it contain everything then known about the training of the voice; it was drawn up with the same exhaustive care and analytical attention to detail that were devoted to the formulation of the metric system. to mechanical rules less than one page is devoted. respiration is the only subject to receive more than a few lines. a system of breathing with flat abdomen and high chest is outlined, and the student is instructed to practise breathing exercises daily. five lines are contained in the chapter headed "de l'emission du son," and these five lines are simply a warning against throaty and nasal _quality_. the pupil is told to stand erect, and to open the mouth properly. but a foot-note is given to the rule for the position of the mouth which shows how thoroughly the mechanical rule was subordinated to considerations of tone quality. "as there is no rule without exceptions, we think it useful to observe at what opening of the mouth the pupil produces the most agreeable, sonorous, and pure quality of tone in order to have him always open the mouth in that manner." in the main the méthode outlines a purely empirical system of instruction, based on the guidance of the voice by the ear. there can be no question that the idea of mechanical management of the voice was introduced later than . citations might be made to show the gradual advance of the mechanical idea from two interesting works, _die kunst des gesanges_, by adolph b. marx, berlin, , and _die grosse italienische gesangschule_, by h. f. mannstein, dresden, . but this is not necessary. it is enough to say that scientific voice culture was not generally thought to be identical with mechanical vocal management until later than . manuel garcia was the first vocal teacher to undertake to found a practical method of instruction on the mechanical principles of the vocal action. when only twenty-seven years old, in , garcia determined to reform the practices of voice culture by furnishing an improved method of instruction. (_grove's dictionary._) his first definite pronouncement of this purpose is contained in the preface to his _École de garcia_, . "as all the effects of song are, in the last analysis, the product of the vocal organs, i have submitted the study to physiological considerations." this statement of garcia's idea of scientific instruction strikes us as a commonplace. but that serves only to prove how thoroughly the world has since been converted to the idea of mechanical voice culture. at that time it was generally believed to be a distinct advance. garcia expected to bring about a great improvement in the art of voice culture. his idea was that the voice can be trained in less time and with greater certainty by mechanical than by imitative methods. as for the inherent falsity of this idea, that has been sufficiently exposed. so soon as the theory of mechanical vocal management began to find acceptance, the old method yielded the ground to the new idea. that this occurred so easily was due to a number of causes. of these several have already been noted,--the readiness of the most prominent teachers to broaden their field of knowledge, in particular. other causes contributing to the acceptance of the mechanical idea were the elusive character of empirical knowledge of the voice, and the unconscious aspect of the instinct of vocal imitation. no master of the later transition period deliberately discarded his empirical knowledge. this could have been possible only by the master losing his sense of hearing. neither did the master cease to rely on the imitative faculty. although unconsciously exercised, that was a habit too firmly fixed to be even intentionally abandoned. public opinion also had much to do with the spread of the mechanical idea. teachers found that they could get pupils easier by claiming to understand the mechanical workings of the voice. in order to obtain recognition, teachers were obliged to study vocal mechanics and to adapt their methods to the growing demand for scientific instruction. no master of this period seems to have intentionally abandoned the traditional method. their first purpose in adopting the new scientific idea was to elucidate and fortify the old method. every successful master undoubtedly taught many pupils who in their turn became teachers. there must have been, in each succession of master and pupil, one teacher who failed to transmit the old method in its entirety. both master and pupil must have been unconscious of this. no master can be believed to have deliberately withheld any of his knowledge from his pupils. neither can any student have been aware that he failed to receive his master's complete method. let us consider a typical instance of master and pupil in the later transition period. instruction in this case was probably of a dual character. both teacher and pupil devoted most of their attention to the mechanical features of tone-production. yet the master continued to listen closely to the student's voice, just as he had done before adopting the (supposedly) scientific idea of instruction. unconsciously he led the pupil to listen and imitate. when the student found it difficult to apply the mechanical instruction the master would say, "listen to me and do as i do." naturally this would bring the desired result. yet both master and pupil would attribute the result to the application of the mechanical rule. the student's voice would be successfully trained, but he would carry away an erroneous idea of the means by which this was accomplished. becoming a teacher in his turn, the vocalist taught in this fashion would entirely overlook the unobtrusive element of imitation and would devote himself to mechanical instruction. he would, for example, construe the precept, "sing with open throat," as a rule to be directly applied; that he had acquired the open throat by imitating his master's tones this teacher would be utterly unaware. more than one generation of master and pupil was probably concerned, in each succession, in the gradual loss of the substance of the old method. the possibility of learning to sing by imitation was only gradually lost to sight. this is well expressed by paolo guetta. "the aphorism 'listen and imitate,' which was the device of the ancient school, coming down by way of tradition, underwent the fate of all sane precepts passed along from generation to generation. through elimination and individual adaptation, through assuming the personal imprint, it degenerated into a purely empirical formula." (_il canto nel suo mecanismo_, milan, .) guetta is himself evidently at a loss to grasp the significance of the empirical formula, "listen and imitate." he seems however to be aware of an antagonism between imitation and mechanical vocal management. the reason of this antagonism has already been noticed, but it will bear repetition. for a teacher to tell a pupil to "hold your throat open and imitate my tone," is to demand the impossible. a conscious effort directly to hold the throat open only causes the throat to stiffen. in this condition the normal action of the voice is upset and the pupil cannot imitate the teacher's voice. this was the condition confronting the teacher of the second generation in the "maestral succession" just considered. he found his pupils unable to get with their voices the results which had come easily to him. attributing his satisfactory progress as a student to the mastery of the supposed mechanical principles of tone-production, this teacher ascribed his pupil's difficulties to their failure to grasp the same mechanical ideas. as a natural consequence he labored even more energetically along mechanical lines. curiously, no teacher seems to have questioned the soundness of the mechanical idea. failure on the part of the pupil to obtain the correct use of the voice served only to make the master more insistent on mechanical exercises. in direct proportion to the prominence given to the idea of mechanical management of the voice, the difficulties of teachers and students became ever more pronounced. the trouble caused by throat stiffness led the teachers to seek new means for imparting the correct vocal action, always along mechanical lines. in this way the progress of the mechanical idea was accelerated, and the problem of tone-production received ever more attention. faith in the imitative faculty was gradually undermined by the progress of the mechanical idea. with each succeeding generation of master and pupil, the mechanical idea became more firmly established. something akin to a vicious circle was involved in this progress. as attention was paid in practical instruction to the mechanical operations of the voice, so the voice's instinctive power of imitation was curtailed by throat stiffness. this served to make more pressing the apparent need of means for the mechanical management of the voice. thus the mechanical idea found ever new arguments in its favor, based always on the difficulties itself had caused. it is impossible to assign a precise date to the disappearance of the old italian method. the last exponent of the old traditions was francesco lamperti, who retired from active teaching in . yet even lamperti finally yielded, in theory at least, to the mechanical idea. in the closing years of his active life as a teacher ( and ), lamperti wrote a book descriptive of his method, _a treatise on the art of singing_ (translated into english by j. c. griffith and published by ed. schuberth & co., new york). when this work was about ready for the press, lamperti read dr. mandl's _gesundheitslehre der stimme_, containing the first definite statement of the opposed-muscular-action theory of breath-control. at the last moment lamperti inserted a note in his book to signify his acceptance of this theory. vocal mechanics was at first studied by teachers of singing as a matter of purely academic interest. no insufficiency of imitative teaching had ever been felt. teachers of the transition period, even so late probably as , had in most cases no reason to be dissatisfied with their methods of instruction. garcia himself started out modestly enough to place the traditional method, received from his father, on a definite basis. his first idea, announced in the preface to the first edition of his _École de garcia_, was to "reproduce my father's method, attempting only to give it a more theoretical form, and to connect results with causes." interest in the mechanics of the voice continued to be almost entirely academic until the invention of the laryngoscope in . then the popular note was struck. the marvelous industrial and scientific progress of the preceding fifty years had prepared the world to demand advancement in methods of teaching singing, as in everything else. when the secrets of the vocal action were laid bare, a new and better method of teaching singing was at once expected. within very few years scientific knowledge of the voice was demanded of every vocal teacher. nothing could well be more natural than a belief in the efficacy of scientific knowledge of the vocal organs as the basis of instruction in singing. surely no earnest investigator of the voice can be criticized for adopting this belief. no one ever thought of questioning the soundness of the new scientific idea. the belief was everywhere accepted, as a matter of course, that methods of instruction in singing were about to be vastly improved. vocal theorists spoke confidently of discovering means for training the voice in a few months of study. the singer's education under the old system had demanded from four to seven years; science was expected to revolutionize this, and to accomplish in months what had formerly required years. even then tone-production was not seen to be a distinct problem. the old imitative method was still successfully followed. no one thought of discarding the traditional method, but only of improving it by reducing it to scientific principles. but that could not last. soon after the attempt began to be made to manage the voice mechanically, tone-production was found to contain a real problem. this was of course due to the introduction of throat stiffness. from that time on (about to ), the problem of tone-production has become steadily more difficult of solution in each individual case. this problem has been, since , the one absorbing topic of voice culture. probably the most unfortunate single fact in the history of voice culture is that scientific study of the voice was from the beginning confined solely to the mechanical features of tone-production. had scientific investigators turned their attention also to the analysis of the auditory impressions of vocal tones, and to the psychological aspect of tone-production, scientific instruction in singing would probably not have been identified with mechanical management of the voice. all the subsequent difficulties of the vocal profession would almost certainly have been avoided. every attempt at a solution of the problem of tone-production has been made along strictly mechanical lines. attention has been devoted solely to the anatomy and physiology of the vocal organs, and to the acoustic principles of the vocal action. since hardly a year has passed without some important contribution to the sum of knowledge of the vocal mechanism. for many years this development of vocal science was eagerly followed by the vocal teachers. any seemingly authoritative announcement of a new theory of the voice was sure to bring its reward in an immediate influx of earnest students. prominent teachers made it their practice to spend their vacations in studying with the famous specialists and investigators. each new theory of the vocal action was at once put into practice, or at any rate this attempt was made. yet each new attempt brought only a fresh disappointment. the mystery of the voice was only deepened with each successive failure at solution. a review in detail of the development of vocal science would be of only academic interest. very little of practical moment would probably be added to the outline of modern methods contained in part i. teachers of singing at present evince an attitude of skepticism toward new theories of the vocal action. voice culture has settled along well-established lines. in the past fifteen years little change can be noted in the practices of vocal teachers. the mechanical idea is so firmly established that no question is ever raised as to its scientific soundness. under the limitations imposed by this erroneous idea, teachers do their best to train the voices entrusted to their care. vocal science is of vastly less importance in modern voice culture than the world in general supposes. only an imaginary relation has ever existed between the scientific knowledge of the voice and practical methods of instruction. to cause the summits of the arytenoid cartilages, for example, to incline toward each other is entirely beyond the direct power of the singer. how many similar impossibilities have been seriously advocated can be known only to the academic student of vocal science. vocal teachers in general have ceased to attempt any such application of the doctrines of vocal science. even if these doctrines could be shown to be scientifically sound it would still be impossible to devise means for applying them to the management of the voice. accepted vocal science has contributed only one element of the practical scheme of modern voice culture; this is the erroneous notion that the vocal organs require to be managed mechanically. chapter viii the materials of rational instruction in singing practical methods of instruction in singing may be judged by their results fully as well as by a scientific analysis of their basic principles. if the progress of the art of singing in the past fifty years has been commensurate with the amount of study devoted to the operations of the vocal mechanism, then the value of present methods is established. otherwise the need is proved for some reform in the present system of training voices. judged by this standard modern methods are not found to be satisfactory. there has been no progress in the art of singing; exactly the contrary is the case. a prominent vocalist goes so far as to say that "vocal insufficiency and decay are prevalent." (_the singing of the future_, d. frangçon-davies, m.a., .) it is perhaps an exaggeration of the condition to call it "insufficiency and decay." yet a gradual decline in the art of singing must be apparent to any lover of the art who has listened to most of the famous singers of the past twenty or twenty-five years. operatic performance has been improved in every other respect, but pure singing, the perfection of the vocal art, has become almost a rarity. this is true not only of coloratura singing; it applies with almost equal force to the use of the singing voice for the purpose of dramatic and emotional expression. musical critics are beginning to comment on the decline of singing. they seek naturally for the causes of this decline. many influences are cited by different writers, each of which has undoubtedly contributed something toward lowering the present standard of singing. most influential among these contributing causes, in the general opinion, is the dramatic style of singing demanded in wagner's later operas. yet several writers point out that the rôles of tristan, brunnhilde, etc., are vastly more effective when well sung than when merely shouted or declaimed. a change in the public taste is also spoken of. audiences are said to be indifferent to the older operas, written to suit the style of florid singing. but even this statement does not pass unchallenged. a prominent critic asserts that "the world is still hungry" for florid singing. "it is altogether likely," continues this writer, "that composers would begin to write florid works again if they were assured of competent interpretation, for there is always a public eager for music of this sort." this critic asserts that the decline of coloratura singing is due to the indifference of the artists themselves to this style of singing. still another commentator ascribes the decline of pure singing in recent years to the rise of a new school of dramatic interpretation among the younger operatic artists. "nowadays it is not the singing that counts. it is the interpretation; and the chances are there will be more and more interpretation and less and less singing every year." even this view has its limitations. faithful dramatic interpretation, and attention to all the details of make-up and "business," are not in any way antagonistic to pure singing. one of the most potent means of emotional expression is vocal tone color. but the skilful use of expressive tone quality is possible only to a singer possessed of a perfect command of all the resources of the voice. many vocal shortcomings are forgiven in the singer of convincing interpretive power. this is probably an important factor in influencing the younger generation of artists to devote so much attention to interpretation. more important than any of the reasons just given to account for the present state of the art of singing, is the decline in the art of training voices. the prospects of an improvement in the art of voice culture, imagined by the early investigators of the vocal mechanism, have not been realized. voice culture has not progressed in the past sixty years. exactly the contrary has taken place. before the introduction of mechanical methods every earnest vocal student was sure of learning to use his voice properly, and of developing the full measure of his natural endowments. mechanical instruction has upset all this. nowadays the successful vocal student is the exception. even those students who succeed in acquiring sufficient command of their voices to win public acceptance are unable to master the finest points of vocal technique. perfect singing is becoming rare, mainly because the technical mastery of the voice cannot be acquired under modern methods of instruction. these methods have been found unsatisfactory in every way. a change must be made in the practices of voice culture; its present state cannot be regarded as permanent. modern methods are not truly scientific. there is at present no justification for the belief that the art of voice culture is founded an assured scientific principles. this does not by any means invalidate the idea that voice culture is properly a subject for scientific regulation. modern methods are unsatisfactory only because they do not conform to the fundamental laws of science. in order to erect a satisfactory art of voice culture it is necessary only that the art be brought into conformity with scientific principles. no sweeping reform of modern methods is called for. a thorough application of scientific principles in the training of voices demands only one thing,--the abandonment of the idea of mechanical vocal management. this is not a backward step; on the contrary, it means a distinct advance. once freed from the burden of the mechanical idea, the art of voice culture will be in position to advance, even beyond the ideals of the old masters. nothing could well be simpler than the dropping of the mechanical idea. it was pointed out in the review of modern methods that most of the time spent in giving and taking lessons is devoted to actual singing by the student. this is exactly what rational instruction means. were it not for the evil influence of the mechanical idea, the results of present instruction would in most cases be satisfactory. it is only in consequence of the attention paid to the mechanical workings of the vocal organs that throat stiffness is interposed between the ear and the voice. let the mechanical idea be dropped, and instruction may be carried on exactly as at present. there will be only one marked difference,--throat stiffness will cease to be a source of difficulty. it is for the individual teacher to change his own practices. this could be done so easily that students would hardly note a change in the form of instruction. simply call the pupil's attention always to the quality of the tones, and never to the throat. cease to talk of breathing and of laryngeal action, and these subjects will never suggest themselves to the student's mind. continue to have the student sing vocalises, scales, songs, and arias, just as at present. teach the student to listen closely to his own voice, and familiarize him with correct models of singing. this covers the whole ground of rational voice culture. it is a great mistake to suppose that a vocal student comes to the teacher with a definite idea of the need of direct vocal management. several months of study are required before the student begins to grasp the teacher's idea of mechanical management of the voice. even then the student rarely comes to a clear understanding of the mechanical idea. in the great majority of cases the student never gets beyond the vague notion that he must "do something" to bring the tones. yet this vague idea is enough to keep his attention constantly directed to his vocal organs, and so to hamper their normal activity. so soon as a teacher drops the mechanical idea, his pupils will not think of their throats, nor demand mechanical instruction. there will be no need of his cautioning his pupils not to pay attention to the muscular workings of the vocal organs. no vocal student ever would do this were the practice not demanded in modern methods. at first thought it may seem that for a teacher to drop all mechanical instruction would leave a great gap in his method. how is the correct vocal action to be imparted to the pupil if not by direct instruction to this end? this question has already been answered in preceding chapters, but the answer may well be repeated. the correct vocal action is naturally and instinctively adopted by the voice without any attention being paid to the operations of the vocal mechanism. it is necessary only that the student sing his daily exercises and listen to his voice. the voice's own instinct will lead it gradually to the perfect action. nothing need be substituted for mechanical instruction. present methods of voice culture will be in every way complete, they will leave nothing to be desired, when the mechanical idea is abandoned. this change in the character of vocal instruction will not be in any sense a return to empiricism. it will be a distinct advance in the application of scientific principles. when fully understood, a practical science of voice culture is seen to embrace only three topics,--the musical education of the student, the training of the ear, and the acquirement of skill in the use of the voice. the avoidance of throat stiffness is not properly a separate topic of vocal science, as in rational instruction nothing should ever be done to cause the throat to stiffen. let us consider in detail these three topics of practical vocal science. _the musical education of a singer_ every singer should be a well-educated and accomplished musician. this does not mean that the singer must be a capable performer on the piano or violin; yet some facility in playing the piano is of enormous benefit to the singer. a general understanding of the art of music is not necessarily dependent on the ability to play any instrument. the rudiments of music may quite well be mastered through the study of sight singing. this was the course adopted by the old masters, and it will serve equally well in our day. one of the evil results of the introduction of the mechanical idea in voice culture is that almost the entire lesson time is devoted to the matter of tone-production. to the rudiments of music no attention whatever is usually paid. many vocal students realize the need of a general musical training, and seek it through studying the piano and through choir and chorus singing. but the vocal teacher seldom finds time to teach his pupils to read music at sight. this is a serious mistake. the artistic use of the voice is dependent on the possession of a trained ear and a cultured musical taste. ear training and musical culture are greatly facilitated by a knowledge of the technical basis of the art of music. this latter is best acquired, by the vocal student at any rate, through the study of sight reading. sight singing and the rudiments of music are taught to better advantage in class work than in private individual instruction. the class system also secures a great saving of time to the teacher. every teacher should form a little class in sight reading and choral singing, made up of all his pupils. an hour or an hour and a half each week, devoted by the entire class to the study of sight singing and simple part songs and choruses, would give an ample training to all the pupils in this important branch of the art of music. many vocal teachers advise their pupils not to sing in choirs and choruses. there may be some ground for the belief that students are apt to fall into bad vocal habits while singing in the chorus. but this risk is entirely avoided by the teacher having his pupils sing in his own chorus, under his own direction. another important feature of the musical education is the hearing of good music artistically performed. vocal students should be urged to attend the opera and the orchestral concerts. they should become familiar with the different forms of composition by actually hearing the masterpieces of music. chamber music concerts, song recitals, and oratoric performances,--all are of great advantage to the earnest student. when students attend the opera, or hear the great singers in concerts and recitals, they should listen to the singers' tones, and not wonder how the tones are produced. _ear training_ no special exercises can be given for the training of the ear. the sense of hearing is developed only by attentive listening. every vocal student should be urged, and frequently reminded, to form the habit of listening attentively to the tones of all voices and instruments. a highly trained sense of hearing is one of the musician's most valuable gifts. a naturally keen musical ear is of course presupposed in the case of any one desiring to study music. this natural gift must be developed by exercise in the ear's proper function,--listening to sounds. experience in listening to voices is made doubly effective in the training of the ear when the student's attention is called to the salient characteristics of the tones heard. in this regard the two points most important for the student to notice are the intonation and the tone quality. absolute correctness of intonation, whether in the voice or in an instrument, can be appreciated only by the possessor of a highly cultivated sense of hearing. many tones are accepted as being in tune which are heard by a very keen ear to be slightly off the pitch, or untrue to the pitch. this matter of a tone being untrue to the pitch is of great importance to the student of music. many instruments, when unskilfully played, give out tones of this character. the tones are impure; instead of containing only one pitch, each note shades off into pitches a trifle higher, or lower, or both. this faulty type of tone is illustrated by a piano slightly out of tune. on a single note of this piano one string may have remained in perfect tune, the second may have flatted by the merest fraction of a semitone, and the third by a slightly greater interval. when this note is played it is in one sense not out of tune. yet its pitch is untrue, and it shades off into a slightly flat note. in the case of many instruments, notably the flute, the clarinet, and the french horn, unskilled performers often play notes of this character. but in these instruments the composite character of the note is vastly more complex than in the piano. a very keen ear is required to appreciate fully the nature of this untrueness to the pitch. but this is exactly the kind of ear the singer must possess, and it can be acquired only by the experience of attentive listening. the voice is especially liable to produce tones untrue to the pitch. stiff-throated singers almost invariably exhibit this faulty tendency. an excessive tension of the throat hampers the vocal cords in their adjustments, and the result is an impure tone. this is more often the cause of an artist singing out of tune than a deficiency of the sense of hearing. many singers "sharp" or "flat" habitually, and are unable to overcome the habit, even though well aware of it. only a voice entirely free from stiffness can produce tones of absolute correctness and perfect intonation. du maurier hit upon a very apt description of pure intonation when he said that trilby always sang "right into the middle of the note." as an impurity of intonation is almost always an indication of throat tension, vocal teachers should be keenly sensitive to this type of faulty tone. tone quality is a subject of surpassing interest to the musician. whatever may be thought the true purpose of music, there can be no question as to one demand made on each individual instrument,--it must produce tones of sensuous beauty. a composer may delight in dissonances; but no instrument of the orchestra may produce harsh or discordant tones. of beauty of tone the ear is the sole judge; naturally so, for the only appeal of the individual tone is to the ear. melody, rhythm, and harmony may appeal to the intellect, but the quality of each component tone is judged only by the ear. each instrument has its own characteristic tone quality. the student of singing should become familiar with the sounds of the different orchestral instruments. attention to this is extremely valuable in the training of the ear. beauty of tone was seen to be the truest and best indication of the correct vocal action. the voice has its own tonal beauty, entirely different in character from any artificial instrument. students of singing should listen for every fine shade of tone quality in the voices of other singers. they should learn to detect the slightest blemish on the quality of every tone, the slightest deviation from the correct pitch. as the voice is guided by the ear, the first requirement of a singer is a keen sense of hearing. for a keen ear to be of benefit, the student must learn to listen to his own voice. this is not altogether an easy matter. for one to learn to hear oneself justly and correctly requires considerable practice. the singer is placed at a natural disadvantage in listening to himself. this is due to two causes. in the first place, the direct muscular sensations of singing are so complex, and so distributed about the throat and face, that the singer's attention is apt to be divided between these and his auditory sensations. second, the sound waves are conducted to the ear internally, by the vibration of the bones of the head, as well as externally, by the air waves. the internally conveyed vibrations are a rumbling rather than a true sound; the only true tone is the external sound, heard by the singer in the same way as by a listener. yet the attention is more apt to be taken up with the internal rumbling than with the external tone. every vocal student must be taught to listen to himself, to disregard the muscular sensations and the internal rumbling, and to pay attention only to the real tones of his voice. throat stiffness greatly increases the difficulty of listening to oneself. both the muscular sensations and the internal rumbling are heightened by the increased muscular tension. a stiff-throated singer confounds the muscular with the auditory sensations; the feeling of muscular effort also makes him believe his tones to be much more powerful than they really are. _the acquirement of skill_ skill in the use of the voice is acquired solely by practice in singing. only one rule is required for the conduct of vocal practice, that is, that the voice thrives on beautiful sounds. musical taste must always guide the vocal student in practising. the voice cannot well do more than is demanded by the ear. if a student is unable to distinguish a correct intonation, his voice will not intone correctly. a student must hear and recognize his own faults or there is no possibility of his correcting them. he must be familiar with the characteristics of a perfect musical tone in order to demand this tone of his voice. in the student's progress the ear always keeps slightly in advance of the voice. both develop together, but the ear takes the lead. the voice needs practice to enable it to meet the demands of the ear. as this practice goes on day by day the ear in the meantime becomes keener and still more exacting in its demands on the voice. to train a voice is in reality a very simple matter. nothing is required of the student but straightforward singing. provided the student's daily practice of singing be guided by a naturally keen ear and a sound musical taste, the voice will steadily progress. little need be said here about the technical demands made on the voice in modern music. the standards of vocal technique are well known to all vocal teachers, and indeed to musicians generally. further, the scope of this work is limited to the basic principle of vocal technique,--correct tone-production. for starting the voice properly on the road to the perfect action, intelligently guided practice alone is needed. this practice must be carried on under the direction of a competent teacher. but the teacher cannot pay attention solely to the technical training of the student's voice. as has been seen, the training of the voice is impossible without the cultivation of the sense of hearing; and this is dependent in great measure on the general musical education of the student. the teacher must therefore direct the student's musical education as the basic principle of voice culture. _the avoidance of throat stiffness_ a great advance will be brought about in the profession of voice culture when vocal teachers become thoroughly familiar with the subject of throat stiffness. this is the only troublesome feature of the training of voices. teachers must be always on the alert to note every indication of throat stiffness. the correction of faults of production has always been recognized as one of the most important elements of vocal training. faults of production are of two kinds, natural and acquired. natural faults are exhibited in some degree by every vocal student. these are due solely to the lack of facility in the use of the voice and to the beginner's want of experience in hearing his own voice. acquired faults develop only as the result of unnatural throat tension. the most common cause of acquired faults of tone-production was seen in the attempt consciously to direct the mechanical operations of the voice. equipped with a thorough understanding of the subject of throat stiffness, the teacher is in no danger of permitting his pupils to contract faulty habits of tone-production. here the great value of the empirical knowledge of the voice is seen. the slightest trace of incipient throat stiffness must be immediately detected by the teacher in the sound of the pupil's tones. to correct the faulty tendency in the beginning is comparatively simple. by listening closely to every tone sung by his pupils in the course of instruction, noting both the musical character of the tones and the sympathetic sensations of throat action, the master will never be in doubt whether a tendency to throat stiffness is shown. in locating the natural faults of production the teacher will also find his empirical knowledge of the voice a most valuable possession. chapter ix outlines of a practical method of voice culture according to the accepted idea of voice culture, the word "method" is taken to mean only the plan supposedly followed for imparting a correct manner of tone-production. owing to the prevalence of the mechanical idea, the acquirement of the correct vocal action has become so difficult as to demand almost the exclusive attention of both teachers and students. very little time is left for other subjects of vastly more importance. aside from the matter of tone-production, teachers do not seem to realize the importance, or even the possibility, of systematizing a course of instruction in singing. scientific voice culture is inconceivable without a systematic plan of procedure. but this is not dependent on a set of rules for imparting the correct vocal action. eliminating the idea of mechanical vocal management does not imply the abandonment of methodical instruction in singing. on the contrary, voice culture cannot be made truly systematic so long as it is based on an erroneous and unscientific theory of vocal management. a vocal teacher cannot perfect a system of instruction until he has done with the mechanical idea. then he will find himself to be in possession of all the materials of a sound practical method. most important of the materials of a practical method is a comprehensive repertoire of vocal music. every teacher should have at his command a wide range of compositions in every form available for the voice. this should include simple exercises, vocalises with and without words, songs of every description, arias of the lyric, dramatic, and coloratura type, and recitatives, as well as concerted numbers of every description. all these compositions should be graded, according to the difficulties they present, both technical in the vocal sense, and musical. for every stage of a pupil's progress the teacher should know exactly what composition to assign for study. every composition used in instruction, be it simple exercise or elaborate aria, should be first of all melodious. for the normally gifted student the sense of melody and the love of singing are almost synonymous. next to the physical endowments of voice and ear the sense of melody is the vocal student's most important gift. this feeling for melody should be appealed to at every instant. students should not be permitted to sing anything in a mechanical fashion. broken scales, "five finger exercises," and mechanical drills of every kind, are altogether objectionable. they blunt the sense of melody, and at the same time they tend to induce throat stiffness. beauty of tone and of melody should always be the guiding principle in the practice of singing. all the elements of instruction,--musical education, ear training, and the acquirement of facility in the use of the voice,--can be combined in the singing of melodious compositions. while the teacher should know the precise object of each study, this is not necessary for the student. have the pupil simply sing his daily studies, with good tone and true musical feeling, and all the rest will take care of itself. every vocal teacher will formulate his method of instruction according to his own taste and judgment. there will always be room for the exercise of originality, and for the working out of individual ideas. his own experience, and his judgment in each individual case, must guide the teacher in answering many important questions. whether to train a voice up or down, whether to pay special attention to enunciation, when to introduce the trill, what form of studies to use for technique and ornament,--these are all matters for the teacher to decide in his own way. above all else the teacher should seek to make the study of singing interesting to his pupils. this cannot be done by making the idea of method and of mechanical drudgery prominent. singing is an art; both teacher and student must love their art or they cannot succeed. everything the student is called on to do should be a distinct pleasure. to master the piano or the violin many hours of tedious practice are required. students of singing are indeed fortunate to be spared the necessity of this tiresome work. in place of two or three hours' daily practice of scales and exercises, the vocal student need do nothing but sing good music. much is required of a competent vocal teacher. first of all, he must be a cultured musician and a capable judge both of composition and of performance. further, while not necessarily a great singer, he must have a thorough command of all the resources of his own voice. his understanding of the voice should embrace a fair knowledge of vocal physiology and of vocal psychology. his ear should be so highly trained, and his experience in hearing singers so wide, that he possess in full the empirical knowledge of the voice. the vocal teacher must be familiar with the highest standards of singing. he should hear the great artists of his day and also be well versed in the traditions of his art. a highly important gift of the vocal teacher is tact. he must know how to deal with his pupils, how to smooth over the rough places of temperament. he should be able to foster a spirit of comradeship among his pupils, to secure the stimulating effect of rivalry, while avoiding the evils of jealousy. tact is an important element also in individual instruction. some students will demand to know the reason of everything, others will be content to do as they are told without question. one student may be led to stiffen his throat by instruction which would have no such effect on another. in every case the teacher must study the individual temperaments of his pupils and adapt his method to the character of each student. practical instruction, in its outward aspect, should be very simple. at one lesson the teacher assigns certain studies and has the pupil sing them. now and then the teacher sings a few measures in order to give the student the correct idea of the effects to be obtained. if any pronounced fault is shown in the student's tones, the master calls attention to the fault, perhaps imitating it, to make it more apparent to the student. in his home practice the student sings the assigned studies, trying always to get his tones pure and true. at the next lesson the same studies are again sung, and new compositions given for further study. a great advantage might be gained by combining three, four, or five students in a class and giving lessons of an hour's time, or even an hour and a half. the students might sing in turn, all the others listening to the one who is singing. this form of instruction would be of great service in ear training, and in acquainting the students with the various qualities of vocal tone, both correct and faulty. much time would thus be saved in giving explanations and in pointing out the characteristics of tone to be sought or avoided. on the side of musical education, instruction in small classes would also be found very effective. a thorough understanding of vocal science, including both the mechanical features of tone-production and the psychological aspects of singing, is almost indispensable to the vocal teacher. but the student of singing will in most cases derive no benefit from this scientific knowledge. those students who plan to become teachers must of course study vocal science. yet even these students will do well to defer this study until they have acquired a thorough mastery of their voices. * * * musical progress would seem to have taken a peculiar direction when a voice need be raised in defense of the old art of pure singing. several famous writers on musical subjects would have us believe that the love of vocal melody is outgrown by one who reaches the heights of musical development. this may be true; but if so, the world has not yet progressed so far. music without melody may some day be written. but mozart knew naught of it, nor beethoven, nor wagner. melody is still beautiful, and never more lovely than when artistically sung by a beautiful voice. we have not reached a point where we can afford to toss lightly aside the old art of bel canto. for its future development, if not indeed for its continued existence, the art of singing depends on an improvement in the art of training voices. for this to be accomplished, mechanical methods must be abandoned. if this work succeeds in bringing home to the vocal profession the error of mechanical instruction in singing, it will have served its purpose. bibliography pietro francesco tosi: _observations on the florid song_. bologna, . giovanni battista mancini: _riflessioni pratiche sul canto figurato_. milan, . georg joseph vogler: _stimmbildungskunst_. mannheim, . _méthode de chant du conservatoire de musique_. paris, . stefana arteaga: _le revoluzioni del teatro musicale italiano_. venice, . adolph bernhard marx: _die kunst des gesanges_. berlin, . heinrich f. mannstein: _die grosse italienische gesangschule_. dresden, . manuel garcia: _École de garcia_. the ninth edition (paris, ) gives date of first edition, . grove's dict. gives . _proceedings of the royal soc._, london, vol. , may, . _hints on singing_. (trans. by beata garcia). new york, . ferdinand sieber: _vollstaendiges lehrbuch der gesangskunst_. magdeburg, . _the art of singing_. (trans. by dr. f. seeger). new york, . stéphen de la madelaine: _théorie complète du chant_. paris, . lennox browne and emil behnke: _voice, song, and speech_. london, . john howard: _the physiology of artistic singing_. new york, . gordon holmes: _a treatise on vocal physiology and hygiene_. london, . emma seiler: _the voice in singing_. philadelphia, . j. frank botume: _modern singing methods_. boston, . francesco lamperti: _a treatise on the art of singing_. (trans. by j. c. griffith). new york. original about . wesley mills, m. d.: _voice production in singing and speaking_. philadelphia, . dr. w. reinecke: _die kunst der idealen tonbildung_. leipzig, . william shakespeare: _the art of singing_. london, . g. b. lamperti: _the technics of bel canto_. new york, . paolo guetta: _il canto nel suo mecanismo_. milan, . lilli lehmann: _meine gesangskunst_. berlin, . david frangçon-davies: _the singing of the future_. london, . leo kofler: _the old italian method_. albany, . _the art of breathing_. new york, . clara kathleen rogers: _the philosophy of singing_. new york, . albert b. bach: _the principles of singing_. london ( d ed.), . julius stockhausen's _gesangsmethode_. leipzig, . sir morell mackenzie: _the hygiene of the vocal organs_. london, . charles lunn: _the philosophy of the voice_. london, . antoine ferrein: _de la formation de la voix de l'homme_. paris, . sir charles bell: _on the organs of the human voice_. london, . carl ludwig merkel: _der kehlkopf_. leipzig, . dr. l. mandl: _die gesundheitslehre der stimme_. braunschweig, . george f. ladd: _outlines of physiological psychology_. new york, . james m. baldwin: _feeling and will_. new york, . h. s. curtis: "automatic movements of the larynx," _amer. jour. psych._, vol. , p. . . h. l. f. helmholtz: _die lehre von den tonempfindungen_. braunschweig, . e. w. scripture: _the new psychology_, london, . _the elements of experimental phonetics_. new york, . _the study of speech curves_. washington, . william james: _the principles of psychology_. new york, . hansen and lehmann: "ueber unwillkuerliches fluestern," _philo. stud._, vol. , p. . . c. lloyd morgan: _an introduction to comparative psychology_. . wilhelm wundt: _grundzuege der physiologischen psychologie_. leipzig, . grove's _dictionary of music and musicians_. fétis: _biographie universelle des musiciens_. musikalisches conversations-lexikon. quellen lexikon der musiker. (robt. eitner, leipzig, .) index acoustics of voice, , . anatomy of vocal organs, . attack, , . breathing, , . breath, singing on the, , , , , . candle-flame test, . coloratura, , . decline of singing, . ear training, , , , . emission, , , . empirical knowledge, , , , . basis of, . in modern instruction, , , . in traditional precepts, . enunciation, . exercises for breath-control, , . for breathing, . for muscular movements, , . for relaxing muscles, , . on vowels and consonants, . forward tone, , , , , . garcia, , , , , , . glottic stroke, , . history of voice culture, , . howard, john, . imitation, , , , , , , , . intonation, , , , . laryngeal action, , , . laryngoscope, , , , , , , . lessons, , . local effort, . mancini, , , , , . mask, singing in the, , . mechanical vocal management, , , , , , , , , , , , , . mechanics of voice, , , , . mental voice, , . messa di voce, , . method, , , . old italian, , , , . méthode de chant, . muscular sense, , . stiffness, , . strain, . nasal tone, , , . nervousness, , . old italian masters, , , , , , . method, , , , . open throat, , , , . placing the voice, , , , . practice, , , , . precepts, , , , , , . problem of voice, , , , , , . psychology of muscular guidance, , . of sympathetic sensations, . of vocal management, , , . pure vowel theory, . quality of tone, , , , , , , . radiation of nerve impulse, , . reflex actions, , . registers, , , , , . relaxing exercises, , . resonance, , . chest, , . mouth-pharynx, . nasal, , , , . sounding-board, , . sensations of singing, . direct, , . in modern instruction, , , . muscular, . sympathetic, , , . of vibration, , , , . sight reading, , , . singing in the mask, , . on the breath, , , , , . sol-fa, , . stiffness, muscular, , . throat, , , , , , , . support of tone, , , , , . sympathetic sensations, , , , . technique, , , . throat stiffness, , , , , , , . tone-production, . problem of , , , , . tosi, , , , , , , . traditional precepts, , , , , . empirical basis, . in modern instruction, , . tremolo, , . vocal action, , , , , . vocal science, , , , , , , , . wearing voice into place, . _to my pupils_ style in singing by w.e. haslam new york: g. schirmer copyright, by g. schirmer prefatory note "of making many books there is no end." surely, the weary observation of the sage must have an especial application to the literature of song. one could not number the books--anatomical, physiological, philosophical--on the voice. a spacious library could easily be furnished with "methods" of singing. works treating of the laws governing the effective interpretation of instrumental music exist. some of them, by acknowledged and competent authorities, have thrown valuable light on a most important element of musical art. had i not believed that a similar need existed in connection with singing, this addition to vocal literature would not have been written. in a succeeding volume on "lyric declamation: recitative, song and ballad singing," will be discussed the practical application of these basic principles of style to the vocal music of the german, french, italian and other national schools. w.e. haslam. , rue maleville, parc monceau, paris, july, . introduction in listening to a patti, a kubelik, a paderewski, the reflective hearer is struck by the absolute sureness with which such artists arouse certain sensations in their auditors. moreover, subsequent hearings will reveal the fact that this sensation is aroused always in the same place, and in the same manner. the beauty of the voice may be temporarily affected in the case of a singer, or an instrument of less æsthetic tone-quality be used by the instrumentalist, but the result is always the same. what is the reason of this? why do great artists always make the same effect and produce the same impression on their public? why, for instance, did the late mme. tietjens, when singing the following passage in handel's _messiah_, always begin with very little voice of a dulled quality, and gradually brighten its character as well as augment its volume until she reached the high _g_-[sharp] which is the culmination, not only of the musical phrase, but also of the tremendous announcement to which it is allied? [music: for now is christ risen, for now is christ risen.] this last tone was delivered with the full force and brilliance of her magnificent voice, and was prolonged until the thrill produced in the listener became almost painful in its intensity. again i ask, why did this world-famous singer perform this passage _always_ in the same way? unreflecting people may reply vaguely that it was because the artist "sang with expression." but what constitutes "expression" in singing? no great artist--no matter what the vehicle or medium through which his art finds manifestation--does anything at random. "the wind bloweth where it listeth" only in appearance; in reality, it is governed by immutable law. similarly, the outward form of an art is only apparently dictated by caprice and freedom from rule. the effective presentation of every art is based on well-defined and accepted principles. and it is with the earnest desire to throw light on this most important phase of vocal art, that i present the principles of "style in singing." contents page prefatory note v introduction vii chapter i: elements of vocal training emission of voice chapter ii: the value of technique chapter iii: analysis of style colour accent intensity phrasing portamento variations of tempo chapter iv: tradition pointage chapter v: répertoire chapter vi: conclusion style in singing chapter i elements of vocal training if the practical education of the singer be analyzed, it will be found to comprise four fundamental elements: ( ) pose: or emission of voice; ( ) technique: or the discipline of the voice considered as a musical instrument; ( ) style: or the application of the laws of artistic taste to the interpretation of vocal music; ( ) rÉpertoire: or the choice, in the literature of vocal music, of works most suited to the voice, temperament and individuality of the particular singer. i have classed these four elements in their relative order. they are, however, of equal importance. until the pose and technique of a voice are satisfactory, attempts to acquire style are premature. on the other hand, without style, a well-placed voice and an adequate amount of technique are incomplete; and until the singer's education has been rounded off with a répertoire adapted to his individual capabilities, he is of little practical use for professional purposes. * * * * * emission of voice great natural gifts of temperament and originality may, and sometimes do, mask defects of emission, particularly in the case of artists following the operatic career. but the artistic life and success of such a singer is short. violated nature rebels, and avenges herself for all infractions of law. a voice that is badly produced or emitted speedily becomes worn, and is easily fatigued. by an additional exertion of physical force, the singer usually attempts to conceal its loss of sonority and carrying-power. the consequences are disastrous for the entire instrument. the medium--to which is assigned the greater portion of every singer's work--becomes "breathy" and hollow, the lower tones guttural, the higher tones shrill, and the voice, throughout its entire compass, harsh and unmanageable. in view of its supreme importance, it is scarcely necessary to dwell upon the self-evident fact that this foundation--emission, or placing of the voice--should be well laid under the guidance of a skilled and experienced singing-teacher. nothing but disappointment can ensue if a task of such consequence be confided, as is too frequently the case, to one of the numerous charlatans who, as oscar commettant said, "_are not able to achieve possibilities, so they promise miracles_." the proper classification, and subsequent placing, of a voice require the greatest tact and discernment. true, there are voices so well-defined in character as to occasion no possible error in their proper classification at the beginning of their studies. but this is not the case with a number of others, particularly those known as voices of _mezzo-carattere_ (_demi-caractère_). it requires a physician of great skill and experience to diagnose an obscure malady; but when once a correct diagnosis is made, many doctors of less eminence might successfully treat the malady, seeing that the recognized pharmacopoeia contains no secret remedies. let the student of singing beware of the numerous impostors who claim to have a "method," a sort of bed of procrustes, which the victim, whether long or short, is made to fit. a "method" must be adapted to the subject, not the subject made to fit the method. the object of all teaching is the same, viz., to impart knowledge; but the means of arriving at that end are multiple, and the manner of communicating instruction is very often personal. to imagine that the same mode of procedure, or "method," is applicable to all voices, is as unreasonable as to expect that the same medicament will apply to all maladies. in imparting a correct emission of voice, science has not infrequently to efface the results of a previous defective use, inherent or acquired, of the vocal organ. hence, although the object to be attained is in every case the same, the _modus operandi_ will vary infinitely. nor should these most important branches of classification and production be entrusted--as is often the case--to assistants, usually accompanists, lacking the necessary training for a work requiring great experience and ripe judgment. to a competent assistant may very properly be confided the preparation of technique, as applied to a mechanical instrument: all violins, for instance, are practically the same. but voices differ as do faces. the present mania for dragging voices up, and out of their legitimate _tessitura_, has become a very grave evil, the consequences of which, in many instances, have been most disastrous. tolerable baritones have been transformed into very mediocre tenors, capable mezzo-soprani into very indifferent dramatic soprani, and so on. that this process may have answered in a few isolated cases, where the vocal organs were of such exceptional strength and resistance as to bear the strain, is by no means a guarantee that the same results may be obtained in every instance, and with less favoured subjects. the average compass in male voices is about two octaves minus one or two tones. i mean, of course, tones that are really available when the singer is on the stage and accompanied by an orchestra. now, a baritone who strives to transform his voice into a tenor, simply loses the two lowest tones of his compass, possibly of good quality and resonance, and gains a minor or major third above the high g (sol) of a very poor, strained character. the compass of the voice remains exactly the same. he has merely exchanged several excellent tones below for some very poor ones above. i repeat, one who aspires to be a lyric artist requires the best possible teacher to guide his first steps; he may consult an inferior or incompetent professor, when so firmly established in the right path that he cannot possibly be led astray. it is a common belief that singing-teachers of reputation do not care to occupy themselves with voice-production, or are unable to teach it. this is a serious error. a competent professor of singing is as capable of imparting the principles of this most important branch, as of directing the more æsthetic studies of style and répertoire. all the really great and illustrious singing-masters of the past preferred to "form" the voices of their pupils. to continue and finish a predecessor's work, or to erect a handsome and solid structure on defective foundations, is always a difficult task; sometimes an impossible one. then, as regards the pupil, particularly one studying with a view to a professional career, a defective preparatory training may eventually mean serious material loss. the money and time spent on his vocal education is, in his case, an investment, not an outlay; the investment will be a poor one, should it be necessary later to devote further time and expend more money to correct natural defects that ought to have been corrected at the beginning of his studies, or to eradicate faults acquired during their progress. furthermore, the purpose of some part of a singer's preliminary education is to strengthen and fit the voice for the exacting demands of a professional career. as the training of an athlete--rower, runner, boxer, wrestler--not only perfects his technical skill, but also, by a process of gradual development, enables him to endure the exceptional strain he will eventually have to bear in a contest, so some of a singer's early studies prepare his voice for the tax to which hereafter it will be subjected. if those studies have been insufficient, or ill-directed, failure awaits the débutant when he presents himself before the public in a spacious theatre or concert-hall and strives, ineffectually, to dominate the powerful sonorities of the large orchestras which are a necessity for modern scores. a sound and judiciously graduated preparatory training, in fact, is essential if the singer would avoid disappointment or a fiasco. the vocal education of many students, however, is nowadays hurried through with a haste that is equalled only by the celerity with which such aspirants for lyric honours return to obscurity. chapter ii the value of technique briefly defined, the singer's technique may be said to consist principally of the ability to govern the voice in its three phases of pitch, colour, and intensity. that is, he must be able to sing every note throughout the compass of the voice (pitch) in different qualities or timbres (colour), and with various degrees of power (intensity). and although the modern schools of composition for the voice do not encourage the display of florid execution, a singer would be ill-advised indeed to neglect this factor, on the plea that it has no longer any practical application. no greater error is conceivable. should an instrumental virtuoso fail to acquire mastery of transcendental difficulties, his performance of any piece would not be perfect: the greater includes the less. a singer would be very short-sighted who did not adopt an analogous line of reasoning. without an appreciable amount of _agilità_, the performance of modern music is laboured and heavy; that of the classics, impossible. in fact, virtuosity, if properly understood, is as indispensable to-day as ever it was. as much vocal virtuosity is required to interpret successfully the music of falstaff, in verdi's opera, as is necessary for _maometto secondo_ or _semiramide_ by rossini. it is simply another form of virtuosity; that is all. the lyric grace or dramatic intensity of many pages of wagner's music-dramas can be fully revealed only through a voice that has been rendered supple by training, and responsive to the slightest suggestion of an artistic temperament. in short, virtuosity may have changed in form, but it is still one of the cornerstones of the singer's art. an executive artist will spare no pains to acquire perfect technical skill; for the _métier_, or mechanical elements of any art, can be acquired, spontaneous though the results may sometimes appear. its primary use is, and should be, to serve as a medium of interpretation. true, virtuosity is frequently a vehicle for personal display, as, notably, in the operas of cimarosa, bellini, donizetti, and the earlier works of rossini and verdi. at its worst, however, it is a practical demonstration of the fact that the executant, vocal or instrumental, has completely mastered the mechanical elements of his profession; that, to use the _argot_ of the studios, "_il connaît son métier_" (he knows his trade). imperfect technique, indeed, is to be deprecated, if merely for the reason that it may debar a singer from interpreting accurately the composer's ideas. how seldom, if ever, even in the best lyric theatres, is the following passage heard as the composer himself indicated: [music: "plus blanche" les huguenots: act i meyerbeer plus pure, plus pure qu'un jour de printemps] or the concluding phrase of "celeste aida" (in _aida_, act i), as verdi wrote it and wished it to be sung: [music: un trono vicino al sol, un trono vicino al sol.] at present the majority of operatic tenors, to whom are assigned the strong tenor (_fort ténor_) rôles, can sing the higher tones of their compass only in _forte_, and with full voice. thus an additional and very charming effect is lost to them. yet adolphe nourrit, who created the rôle of raoûl in _les huguenots_, sang, it is said, the phrase as written. the late italo campanini, sims reeves, and the famous spanish tenor gayarré, were all able to sing the [music] _mezza voce_, by a skilled use of the covered tones. i do not ignore the fact that cases occur where artists, owing to some physiological peculiarity or personal idiosyncrasy, are unable to overcome certain special difficulties; where, indeed, the effort would produce but meagre results. but such instances are the exception, not the rule. the lyric artist who is gifted merely with a beautiful voice, over which he has acquired but imperfect control, is at the mercy of every slight indisposition that may temporarily affect the quality and sonority of his instrument. but he who is a "singer" in the real and artistic sense of the word, he who has acquired skill in the use of the voice, is armed at all points against such accidents. by his art, by clever devices of varied tone-colour and degrees of intensity, he can so screen the momentary loss of brilliance, etc., as to conceal that fact from his auditors, who imagine him to be in the possession of his normal physical powers. the technical or mechanical part of any art can be taught and learned, as i have said. it is only a case of well-guided effort. patience and unceasing perseverance will in this, as in all other matters, achieve the desired result. nature gives only the ability and aptitude to acquire; it is persistent study which enables their possessor to arrive at perfection. serious and lasting results are obtained only by constant practice. it is a curious fact that many people more than usually gifted arrive only at mediocrity. certain things, such as the trill or scales, come naturally easy to them. this being the case, they neglect to perfect their _agilità_, which remains defective. others, although but moderately endowed, have arrived at eminence by sheer persistence and rightly directed study. it is simply a musical version of the hare and the tortoise. * * * * * but we must make a great distinction between the preliminary exercises which put the singer in full possession of the purely mechanical branch of his art (technique), and the æsthetic studies in taste and the research for what dramatic authors call "the science of effect," or style. the former must be thoroughly accomplished, otherwise the latter cannot be undertaken satisfactorily. a good and reliable technique is undoubtedly of primary necessity. but it is by no means all. one may have a voice which is well-posed and of good resonance, and also have sufficient flexibility to perform neatly all the rapid passages with which the pages of the classic composers abound. but this is not singing; nor is the possessor of these an artist. he has simply the necessary and preliminary knowledge which should enable him to become one, by further study of the æsthetic side of the art of singing. he has, as it were, collected the materials necessary for the erection of a splendid edifice, and has now to learn the effective means of combining them. so, when the voice is "formed," a frank and easy emission obtained, a sufficiency of technique acquired, the next step in the singer's education is the practical study of the problem of style. chapter iii analysis of style what is style? in reality the question is two-fold. one may have style; and one may have _a_ style. the former is general; the latter individual. the former can be taught and learned, for it is based on certain well-defined rules; the latter is personal--in other words, is not universally applicable. not infrequently it is a particular application of those rules which gives the impress of originality. but correct taste must first be formed by the study of the noblest creations in the particular art that claims attention. in singing, as in the sister arts, the laws which govern style must be apprehended and understood before individuality can be given full scope. otherwise, what to the executant would appear as original might, to correct taste and judgment, appear ridiculous and extravagant. a genius is sometimes eccentric, but eccentricity is not genius. vocal students should hear as many good singers as possible, but actually imitate none. a skilled teacher will always discern and strive to develop the personality of the pupil, will be on the alert to discover latent features of originality and character. he will respect and encourage individuality, rather than insist upon the servile imitation of some model--even though that model be himself. as the distinguished artist victor maurel has justly observed: "of all the bad forms of teaching singing, that by imitation is the worst" (_un problème d'art_). in singing, as in painting, a copy has never the value of the original. moreover, slavish imitation in any art has a deleterious influence. but to respect irreproachable examples and fitly observe sound rules, whose very survival often justifies their existence and testifies to their value, is always of benefit to the artist. to imitate is to renounce one's individual expression of an ideal and present that of another. but to observe established and accepted laws, laws founded on truth and consecrated by time, is not to imitate, when those laws are applied in an original and individual manner that is in harmony with the personality of the interpreter. "_l'art est un coin de nature vu à travers un tempérament._" in literature, each writer has his own special style which may easily be recognized; but all follow the same grammatical rules. a correct style in singing consists in the careful observance of the principles of technique; a perfect diction; the appropriate colouring of each sentiment expressed; attention to the musical and poetic accents; judicious and effective phrasing (whether musical or verbal), so that the meaning of both composer and poet may be placed in the clearest light. * * * * * let us analyze style in its three principal aspects: colour, accent, and phrasing. colour of all the elements of style in singing, the most potent and effective--the one, indeed, that is essential for the success of the lyric artist--is the ability to vary the vocal timbre; that is, to sing with colour. this desideratum of varied tone-colour is sought even by instrumentalists. nay, the instrument itself is sometimes constructed with this object in view. witness the invention of the "soft" pedal, which is intended not solely to reduce the intensity of tone in the pianoforte--that may be accomplished by a modification of force in striking the note--but to give the tones a darker, more sombre quality, or colour. to vary the tone-colour, a violinist or 'cellist draws the bow across the strings close to, or distant from, the bridge, in accordance with his desire for a reed-like or flute-like quality of tone. anyone who has listened to the performance of the slow movement in paganini's concerto in _d_, by an ysaye or a mischa elman, will have remarked how the skilful use of varied tone colour and other devices imparts a wonderful charm to music intrinsically of but mediocre value. a singer may have a good quality of voice; but that is normal. if he can vary it only in degrees of loudness (intensity) and not in differences of timbre (colour) he cannot be ranked as an artist. no matter how great the natural beauty and sonority of his voice, his performance will always be monotonous, if he has only one tint on his vocal palette. in speech--from which the effect is borrowed--utterances of grave and serious meaning, and those of gayer import, are not made with the same colour of voice. a brighter quality (_voix claire_) is used instinctively for an ejaculation uttered by one to whom pleasant or joyful news has been communicated. on the contrary, should it be the cause of sorrow or grief for the listener, he will use--should he have occasion to reply--a darker quality of voice (_voix sombre_). such phenomena are physiological. the vocal organs are the most sensitive of any in the human economy: they betray at once the mental condition of the individual. joy is a great tonic, and acts on the vocal cords and mucous membrane as does an astringent; a brilliant and clear quality of voice is the result. grief or fear, on the other hand, being depressing emotions, lower the vitality, and the debilitating influence communicates to the voice a dull and sombre character. on this question of colour in the voice, the masterly writer and critic legouvé says: "certain particular gifts are necessary if the speech is to possess colour. the first of these is metal in the voice. he who has it not will never shine as a colourist. the metal may be gold, silver or brass; each has its individual characteristic. a golden voice is the most brilliant; a silvery voice has the most charm; a brassy voice the most power. but one of the three characteristics is essential. a voice without metallic ring is like teeth without enamel; they may be sound and healthy, but they are not brilliant.... in speech there are several colours--a bright, ringing quality; one soft and veiled. the bright, strident hues of purple and gold in a picture may produce a masterpiece of gorgeous colouring; so, in a different manner, may the harmonious juxtaposition of greys, lilacs and browns on a canvas by veronese, rubens, or delacroix. "last of all is the velvety voice. this is worthless if not allied with one of the three others. in order that a velvety voice may possess value it must be reinforced (_doublée_) with 'metal.' a velvety voice is merely one of cotton."[ ] [footnote : these admirably expressed views illustrate and exemplify the principles i laid down in a _conférence_ (paris, ) on voice-production (_pose de la voix_), wherein i demonstrated the possibility of acquiring, by the aid of the resonating cavities, a greater sonority, more in conformity with the demands and necessities of present-day music.] it may be of interest to notice that the quality which in france is designated "timbre," is called by the italians "_metallo di voce_," or, "metal of the voice." those who heard madame sarah bernhardt fifteen or twenty years ago will readily understand why her countless friends and admirers always spoke of her matchless organ as "_la voix d'or_." the late sims reeves, the famous tenor, was a perfect master of all varieties and shades of vocal colour, and displayed his mastery with certainty and unfailing effect in the different fields of oratorio and opera. in the recitative "deeper and deeper still," with its subsequent aria "waft her, angels, through the skies" [handel], he ranged through the entire gamut of tone-colour. as edgardo in donizetti's _lucia di lammermoor_, he launched the "maladetta" phrase of the curse with a voice that was almost "white" with frenzied rage; while the pathetic sombre quality he employed in the "_fra poco a me ricovero_" fitly accorded with the despairing mood and gloomy surroundings of the hapless edgardo. some singers control but two colours or timbres--the very clear (open) and the very sombre (closed), which they exaggerate. in reality, however, the gradations between them can be made infinite by the artist who is in possession of the secret--especially if he has the ability to combine colour with intensity. an illustration of this is found in the example cited in the opening paragraph of the present work:--"for now is christ risen." not only did mme. tietjens make a gradual _crescendo_ from the first note to the climax, but the tonal colours were also subtly graduated from a comparatively sombre quality to one of the utmost clearness and brilliance. [music: as sung by mme. tietjens for now is christ risen, for now is christ risen from the dead.] as contrasting examples in which the two principal colours may be employed effectively, i may cite the bacchic air, "_Ô vin, dissipe la tristesse_," and the pensive monologue, "_Être, ou ne pas être_," both from the opera _hamlet_, by ambroise thomas. the forced, unnatural quality of the first calls for the use of a clear, open, brilliant timbre. [music: Ô vin, dissipe la tristesse qui pèse sur mon coeur! a moi les rêves de l'ivresse, et le rire moqueur!] but for the second, "to be, or not to be": [music: Être, ou ne pas être! ô mystère! mourir! dormir, dormir!] a sombre, closed timbre is necessary. the opening recitative of vanderdecken in _der fliegende holländer_ by wagner would be absurd, and utterly out of harmony with the character and his surroundings, if sung in the open timbre. perhaps i ought to explain that "open" (_voix claire_, fr.), and "closed" (_voix sombre_, fr.), are technical terms, of which the equivalents are accepted in all countries where the art of singing is cultivated; terms that apply to _quality_ of tone, not to the _physical_ process by which these effects are produced. such a mistake is not infrequently made by vocal physiologists who are not practical musicians or singing-teachers. nor must the term "clear timbre" be understood to mean the "white voice" ("_voix blanche_," or "_voce bianca_"); this, like the guttural timbre, being only occasionally employed for the expression of some violent passion, such as hate. like the admirable paintings of eugène carrière, for instance his masterly portrait of paul verlaine, a song, sometimes an entire rôle, may be worked out in monochrome; though the gradations of tint are numerous, they are consistently kept within their preconceived colour-scheme. some few exceptional singers, like jean-baptiste faure or maurice renaud, have this gift of many shades of the one colour in their singing of certain rôles. the colour is determined by the psychological character of the personage portrayed; a gay, reckless don giovanni calls for a brighter colouring throughout than that necessitated by the music allotted to a gloomy vanderdecken or an embittered and vengeful rigoletto. one may, therefore, formulate the following rule: the general character of the composition will decide the tonal colour appropriate for its general interpretation; the colouring necessary for its component phrases will be determined by the particular sentiment embodied in them. emotions like sorrow, fear, despair, will find fitting expression in the sombre quality of voice, graduated in accordance with the intensity of the emotion. the opposite sentiments of joy, love, courage, hope, are fittingly interpreted by gradations of the clear and brilliant timbre. the dark or sombre voice will be used in varying shades for the recitative from _samson_ (handel), "oh, loss of sight:" [music: oh, loss of sight, of thee i most complain!] while the clearest and most brilliant timbre possible to be obtained is plainly indicated for the same composer's "sound an alarm!" from _judas maccabæus_. [music: sound an alarm, your silver trumpets sound!] it was a rule formulated by the old italian school of singing, when _l'arte del bel canto_ in its true sense did really exist, that no phrase--musical or verbal--should be repeated with the same nuances. very many instances might be given of the happy effect obtained by observing this rule. one will suffice. it is taken from the lamento of queen catherine (of aragon), who, slighted by henry viii. for anne boleyn, sighs for her native spain. [music: lamento henri viii: act iv saint-saëns mon espagne chérie! mon espagne chérie!] sudden contrasts of colour are of great dramatic effect. a good illustration is found in the air "_divinités du styx_," from gluck's _alceste_. this contrast is still further heightened by a sudden change of both intensity and tempo. [music: divinités du styx! divinités du styx! ministres de la mort!] this last phrase, "_ministres de la mort!_" should be sung in a very sombre voice of almost guttural character. it is, indeed, in the recitatives and declamatory passages of gluck, handel, sacchini, that lyric artists will find unsurpassable material for study. requiring, as such works do for their perfect interpretation, all the resources of colour, accent, and phrasing, such study is the best possible preparation for the fitting musical presentment of the lyric drama in some of its later phases. colour, then, is the basic element of style in singing. it is reinforced by accent, which, as the name implies, is the accentuation of details that require to be brought into prominence. this subject, therefore, next claims attention. * * * * * accent in singing, two kinds of accent are recognized, the musical accent, and the poetic, or verbal, accent. the first appertains to the domain of sound; the second, to the domain of significance. the first, for æsthetic reasons, throws into relief certain tones of a musical phrase; the second brings into prominence the sentiment underlying the poem or text. note, also, that in spoken declamation, accent applies to a syllable only; in singing, the verbal accent affects an entire word. in its relation to style, the musical accent must be carefully distinguished from the metrical accent which is determined by time, or measure, as well as from the verbal accent whereby the import of a word is rendered clear to the listener. here is an example of musical accent, from act iii of verdi's _ballo in maschera_: [music: saper vorreste di che si veste quando l'è cosa ch'ei vuol nascosa.] the accents (marked thus [accent symbol]) give to the musical phrase a piquancy that is admirably in keeping with the gay and careless character of the page, oscar, who sings it. in fact, as regards style, musical accent is particularly valuable in song for the purpose of setting forth the true character of the music. hence, it may be regarded as a means of characterization. this use of accent for characterization is also quite distinct from its use with "accidentals," or tones foreign to the prevailing tonality. in the former case, sentiment dictates its employment; in the second, the accent guarantees, as it were, the accuracy of the singer's intonation. by the faint stress laid on the foreign tone, the listener is assured that the executant is not deviating from the true pitch. in the following examples, the tones marked [accent symbol] are "accidentals," and for that reason should receive a faint stress. the first example is from _la forza del destino_. [music: verdi madre, madre, pietosa vergine, perdona al mio peccato, m'aita quell'ingrato] [music: "je dis que rien" carmen: act iii bizet vous me protégerez, seigneur!] these different uses of accent are well illustrated in the following example. [music: "come unto him" messiah handel take his yoke upon you, and learn of him.] the tone allotted to the second syllable of the word "upon" is accentuated to affirm the accuracy of the singer's intonation; the slight emphasis of the word "him" brings into relief the meaning of the text. this latter, then, is an illustration of verbal, or "poetic" accent which, i repeat, throws into relief, without consideration of its musical value or position, some word of special significance in the verbal phrase. to render the poetic meaning of the text clear to the listener, a correct use of verbal accent is imperative. its importance and effect, particularly in recitative and declamatory singing, are analogous to the importance and effect of emphasis in spoken language. the example is from _samson_ (handel): [music: o loss of _sight_, of _thee_ i _most_ complain.] here i may point out that in _cantabile_ phrases the stream of sound, notwithstanding its division into syllables by the organs of articulation--lips, tongue, etc.--should pour forth smoothly and uninterruptedly. the full value of each tone must be allotted to the vowel; the consonants which precede or end the syllables are pronounced quickly and distinctly. in declamatory singing, on the contrary, the consonants should be articulated with greater deliberation and intensity. [music: handel (messiah) i _know_ that my redeemer liveth.] here an emphatic accent on the consonant "n" irresistibly suggests the idea of knowledge; that is, of absolute certainty, not of mere belief. very frequently the metrical accent does not coincide with the syllabic accent: the musical accent will fall on an unaccented syllable, or vice versa. particularly is this the case when the composer is not perfectly familiar with the rules that govern the prosody of the language to which he is setting music. in the operas of meyerbeer many passages occur in which it is necessary to readjust the syllables to the notes on account of their misplaced accent. here is an illustration from hoël's grand air in _le pardon de ploërmel_ (meyerbeer), act ii. (note that the tonic accent in french falls _always_ on the last pronounced syllable.) [music: (as printed) et ranimez, ra_ni_mez ma foi.] the error is easily remedied: [music: (should be sung) et ranimez, rani_mez_ ma foi.] in the contralto aria "he shall feed his flock," in handel's _messiah_, the unaccented word "shall" falls on the most strongly accented note of the bar. if performed thus, it would give a most aggressive character to the passage, implying that some one had previously denied the assertion. this would be entirely at variance with the consolatory and peaceful message that is contained in the text and shadowed forth in the music. [music: (as printed) he shall feed his flock like a shepherd. (should be sung) he shall feed his flock like a shepherd.] instances of faulty syllabic accent abound in handel's works, both his english oratorios and his italian operas. many examples could be quoted. here is a phrase from the beautiful air for mezzo-soprano sung by ruggiero in the opera of _alcina_. [music: (as printed) verdi prati. (should be sung) verdi prati.] in mendelssohn's _elijah_, the following phrase is nearly always sung as written, unless the singer is familiar with the best traditions: [music: give me _thy_ son!] it may be that the artists who slavishly follow the published text fear being accused of altering the composer's music, or are ignorant of the fact that there exists a better version, which is this: [music: give _me_ thy son!] it will be seen that the music is not changed in the least; the musical and verbal accents have been merely readjusted and made to coincide. in order to avoid the disagreeable effect of singing one half-bar _andante_ to the syllable "_si_" (pronounced like "zee" in english), the following phrase of marguerite de valois in _les huguenots_ (meyerbeer), act ii, is changed thus: [music: (as printed) en aucun temps n'eût choisi mieux. (should be sung) en aucun temps n'eût choisi mieux.] * * * * * intensity in musical terminology every gradation of volume in sound, from the faintest to the loudest, enters into the category of intensity. one of the accepted rules of the _arte del bel canto_ was, that every sustained tone should be coloured by some graduation of intensity. thus the ability to augment and diminish the volume of tone was so highly esteemed--indeed, so essential--that singers spent much time in acquiring the _messa di voce_, that is, the steadily graduated emission of tone from the softest degree to the loudest and again to the softest: _p_ [crescendo symbol] _f_ [decrescendo symbol] _p_. this exercise invariably formed a part of each day's study, and was practised on several vowels throughout the scale, except the extreme tones, save in rare instances. it was, in fact, indispensable that the singer should be able to colour every tone in three forms of graduated intensity: soft to loud _p_ [crescendo symbol] _f_; loud to soft _f_ [decrescendo symbol] _p_; and soft to loud and soft again _p_ [crescendo symbol] _f_ [decrescendo symbol] _p_. this command of intensity, therefore, is invaluable. but it is even more effective when the artist has the power to combine the various gradations of intensity with different shades of colour; in other words, when he can sing a tone _crescendo_ and _diminuendo_ in the clear and sombre timbres. the passage, already cited, from alceste's great air in gluck's opera _alceste_, furnishes an admirable illustration of the dramatic emotion created by a sudden contrast of intensity as well as colour. in the invocation "ye ministers that dwell in night!" the clear timbre is used with gradually increasing volume until at the phrase (sung _adagio_) "ministers of death!" the timbre changes abruptly to a sombre quality with sinister effect, which effect is augmented by being sung _pp_. [music: gluck (alceste: act i) divinités du styx! divinités du styx! ministres de la mort!] a still more striking example of the impressive effect produced by sudden contrasts of intensity is offered in the magnificent air "total eclipse," from _samson_ (handel). in it, a judicious use of tone-colour, accent, and variations of tempo, all combine to elucidate in the highest possible degree the idea of both composer and poet: [music: sun, moon and stars, sun, moon and stars are _dark_ to me.] the words "sun, moon and stars" should be given strongly accentuated, and the tempo gradually accelerated. the repetition of the phrase should be sung with still greater intensity; then, at the passage "are dark to me," the colour of the voice changes to one of very sombre quality, and the original tempo is resumed. the first consonant in the word "dark" should receive a slight stress. the _crescendo_ has always been a favourite device of composers, particularly of those who write for the lyric theatre. it was an effect held in high esteem by rossini, who introduced it constantly in his operas--witness his overtures and ensembles. all are familiar with the wonderful _crescendo_ which precedes the appearance of the knight of the swan, in _lohengrin_, where the sonorities are augmented by gradual additions of voices and instruments until the culminating point is reached. an instance more poignant still is found in the great "liebestod" in _tristan und isolde_. although hérold, the french composer, observed that in working up to a climax one should begin a long way off, a singer must be careful not to reach his maximum of vocal sonority before the musical climax is attained. the tenor duprez created a sensation that is historic, in the long _crescendo_ passage in the fourth act of _guillaume tell_, by gradually increasing the volume of sound, as the phrase developed in power and grandeur, until the end, which he delivered with all the wealth of his exceptionally resonant voice. before closing this chapter on intensity, i should advise singers whose voices possess great natural volume or power not to abuse this valuable quality by employing it too frequently. the ear of a listener tires sooner of extreme sonority than of any other effect. talma, the great actor, wrought many reforms on the french dramatic stage, not only in costume--prior to his time greek or roman dress only was worn in tragedy--but also in the manner of delivering tragic verse. against the custom, then prevalent, of always hurling forth long tirades at full voice, he inveighed in these terms: "of all monotonous things, _uproar_ is the most intolerable" (_de toutes les monotonies, celle de la force est la plus insupportable_). an artistic singer will use his most powerful tones, as a painter employs his most vivid colours, sparingly. * * * * * phrasing phrasing is simply musical punctuation. in singing, it may be separated, like accent, into two divisions: musical and poetic, or verbal, phrasing. if the following passage were performed by an instrument, it would not require any particular grouping or phrasing: [music] but when sung, it would fail in effect if not performed with a very slight pause after the word "nobis," thus: [music: ave maria luzzi ora pro nobis, maria.] as another illustration of the excellent effect of correct phrasing may be cited the song _psyché_, by paladilhe. its effect is heightened if the musical phrasing be judiciously combined with a change in colour and intensity: [music: quand il les flatte, j'en murmure!] (should be sung): [music: quand il les flatte, j'en murmure!] it is the clashing of the musical and verbal phrasings that often makes translations of lyric works unsatisfactory. the two phrases are independent, not welded together. so far from being "music wedded to immortal verse," these instances resemble those _ménages_ wherein each unit leads a separate existence. when this is the case, the singer must decide as to whether the musical phrase, or the poetic phrase, demands the greater prominence. the following phrasing and colouring would be good and effective if the passage were played on an instrument: [music] but if sung thus, as it sometimes is by careless artists who pay little attention to the verbal significance of what they are singing, it would sound absurd, because the poetic phrasing is entirely ignored. the correct way of performing the passage (from the aria "voi che sapete," in act ii of mozart's _nozze di figaro_) is the following: [music: donne, vedete, s'io l'ho nel cor.] in the next extract (from act iv in _un ballo in maschera_, by verdi), it will be noticed how oblivious the composer was of the claims of verbal phrasing. the whole _scena_ is admirably written for the voice, and contains many graceful passages of great melodic charm. but although the music may claim to represent the character of the situation as a whole, it is disfigured by the complete disregard of the sense of certain groups of words: [music: come se fosse l'ultima ora del nostro amor, come se fosse l'ultima, l'ultima ora, ora del nostro amor, del nostro amor? oh, qual presagio m'assale, come se fosse l'ultima ora del nostro amor, se fosse l'ultima del nostro amor] the words "_come se fosse l'ultima ora del nostro amor_," constitute one phrase. it would be extremely difficult, impossible even, for many, to sing the passage in one breath. but the first musical phrase ends after the word "_ultima_;" to separate it from the next word, "_ora_" (second and third bars), thus: "last--hour," is impracticable. it would be out of the question to destroy the musical phrase by breathing after the word "_ora_," in the third bar. if the text is phrased when spoken as it is when sung, the incongruity is at once apparent. the published score gives a pause [fermata symbol] after the word "_ora_:" "_ultima ora_ [fermata symbol] _del nostro amor_." this phrasing is good and effective, especially if the artist changes at once to the sombre quality after the pause, and finishes the phrase _piano_ and _rallentando_. one very often hears it, however, given with a pause for breathing after the high _a_; the unfortunate singer having prolonged the tone until, in order to continue, he is compelled to take in more air. the result is the absurd phrasing given below: [music: l'ultima ora del nostro amor] in the final cadenza, the composer has cut out the word "ora" altogether. the whole air is of interest to the musical student, as it shows clearly the little value attached by verdi, at that period of his career, to the exigencies of the verbal or poetic phrase. this neglect of the verbal punctuation is in marked contrast to the care he bestowed on it in his later works, witness _aida_, _otello_, and particularly _falstaff_. here i may say that it is sometimes necessary to alter the words on account of the impossibility of performing certain passages as written. in the earlier published scores of _samson et dalila_ (saint-saëns), the following passage in act ii, "mon coeur s'ouvre à ta voix," as the composer wrote it, occurs as one phrase: [music: ah! réponds à ma tendresse!] this being impracticable of execution in one phrase, and there being no opportunity of retaking breath until the close of the passage, it was altered in the later editions, and now stands thus: [music: ah! réponds, réponds à ma tendresse!] this device of repetition, applied either to a word or to part of a phrase, is perfectly justifiable in cases where the artist, for physical reasons, is unable to sing the phrase in one breath. i give an excerpt from weber's _der freischütz_ (grand air, act ii): [music: oh lovely night!] this may be sung: [music: oh lovely, lovely night!] the concluding bars of the waltz-song in act i of gounod's _roméo et juliette_, are often phrased as indicated in the brackets, in order to give the singer a chance to take breath, which is done after the _c_ natural: [music: ah! (comme un trésor.) comme un trésor.] as discrepancies between the musical and verbal phrases, such as those i have instanced, abound in certain of the old operas which still keep the stage and form a part of the permanent répertoire of every lyric theatre, the artists singing them are compelled to choose between sacrificing the words or the music. the former alternative is generally preferable, the musical phrase in many such cases being of the greater relative importance. another way is, to meet the difficulty boldly by supplying another text which mates itself more happily with the musical phrase. personally, i adopt the latter alternative without hesitation, when preparing artists to sing these works. * * * * * some minor effects utilized in style in singing may be briefly alluded to: _portamento_; variations of _tempo_. portamento this is effected by the voice gliding from one tone to another, and is equally available on stringed instruments, the violin or 'cello, the mandoline or zither. it is a grace of style much abused by inartistic singers. being an ornament, good taste dictates that it be used sparingly. a frequent sliding from one tone to another is a grave fault, and most disagreeable to a cultivated ear. to sing _legato_ is one thing; to sing _strisciato_ is another. hence, its use on two consecutive occasions is rarely admissible. but without a sober and discreet use of the _portamento_, the style of the singer appears stiff, angular--lacking, as it were, in graceful curves. it must always be performed by carrying the tone and syllable to the next tone; never by anticipating the latter: [music: mozart (nozze di figaro) do fa deh vieni, non tardar,] but it sometimes happens that, while desiring this grace, the composer does not indicate his wish quite correctly. here is an instance by f. thomé: [music: et nous dansions un boléro.] were it performed as printed, it would be very bad style, as it violates the rule that the succeeding syllable shall not be anticipated. undoubtedly, what the author wished is the following: [music: et nous dansions] sometimes the composer himself indicates clearly his intention that this effect should be used, as in the following examples: [music: reyer (la statue) pour s'évanouir, au réveil.] [music: celeste aida (aida: act i) verdi del mio pensiero tu sei regina, tu di mia vita sei lo splendor.] [music: song "heure du soir" for tenor léo delibes partout s'élève un chant bien doux, un chant bien doux, sous la brise toute embaumée.] [music: from "la bohème," act i puccini mi chiamano mimi, ma il mio nome è lucia.] (notice the phrases marked _a_ and _b_.) the words and indications for the use of the _portamento_ in each of these last four examples are by the respective composers, and as printed in the published editions. a _portamento_ should never be sung so slowly as to convey the idea of a badly executed chromatic scale; and, as a rule, it is best not to use one between any lesser interval than a third, unless for some particular effect, or at the close of a slow movement, as in the aria "he was despisèd," in _the messiah_: [music: and acquainted with grief.] it is also effective in connecting syllables in phrases of a smooth, lyric character: [music: nozze di figaro: act ii mozart (as printed) in braccio al idol mio. (should be sung) in braccio al idol mio.] the _portamento_ being an embellishment that pertains to the _cantabile_, it is very little used in declamatory singing. but frequently in the recitatives of classic works occur phrases of declamatory recitative, interspersed with passages that are purely lyric in structure. to each of these divisions must be given its appropriate style. for instance, after the opening phrases of obadiah's exhortation, "ye people, rend your hearts," in _elijah_, up to the end of the phrase "return to god," all is purely lyric declamation. but at the words, "for he is slow to anger, and merciful," this should cease, and the succeeding phrases be given with all the graces that are permissible in _cantabile_ singing; not in the hard, dry manner affected by some of the modern tenors in oratorio. [music: i therefore say to ye, forsake your idols, return to god; for he is slow to anger, and merciful.] * * * * * variations of tempo these are of value in bringing out the musical and poetic significance of certain compositions; notably the operas of bellini, donizetti, and the earlier works of verdi. but i would caution singers to exercise discretion in this much-abused effect. variations of tempo, the _ritardando_, _accelerando_, and _tempo rubato_, are all legitimate aids demanded by expression. but unless their use is determined by sound judgment and correct musicianly taste, the effect speedily becomes vulgar and monotonous. knowledge, and a taste formed in good schools, must be the guide of the vocalist in the use of variations of tempo. i have said that the operas of bellini, donizetti and verdi abound in instances requiring the hastening or slackening of the tempo. but the device is also highly esteemed by the ultra-modern italian school, as may be seen in studying the scores of puccini, mascagni and leoncavallo. here is an illustration of its effective use in the air "connais-tu le pays?" from _mignon_ (act ii), by ambroise thomas. madame christine nilsson (countess casa miranda), who "passed" the rôle with the composer, always sang the phrase thus, although these indications do not appear in the published version: [music: hélas! que ne puis-je te suivre, vers ce rivage heureux, d'où le sort m'exila!] again, in the fine song _der asra_, by rubinstein, the musical, as well as the dramatic, effect of the poem is heightened by the use of the _accelerando_, which interprets with musical vividness the impetuous avowal by the slave of his passion for the princess, after his calm answer to her questions as to his name and birthplace. "_ich heisse mahomet, ich bin aus yemen, und mein stamm sind jene asra, welche sterben, wenn sie lieben._" (heine.) [music: und mein stamm sind jene asra, welche sterben, wenn sie lieben.] chapter iv tradition tradition plays a more important part, perhaps, in the interpretation of the classic composers' writings for the voice than it does in their purely instrumental works. the old masters left few--sometimes not any--indications as to the manner in which their music should be rendered. thus its proper performance is largely determined by received oral tradition. the printed scores of the classics, except those that have been specially edited, throw little light on their proper interpretation, or even at times on the actual notes to be sung. to perform exactly as written the operas of gluck, notably _armide_ and _orphée_, the operas of mozart, the italian operas and english oratorios of handel, the oratorios of bach, haydn, and mendelssohn, would be to do the greatest injustice to these composers and their works. it is a prevalent idea that all departures from the published text are due either to caprice, or to vanity and a desire for personal display on the part of the soloist. as though singers had a monopoly of these defects! let us consider some of the principal causes of such changes in the text, and the reasons why these modifications do not always appear in the published versions. in the original editions of many of the earlier operas, as those of mozart, etc., the unaccompanied recitative (_recitativo secco_) is not barred. as with the plain-chant of the church, only the _pitch_ of the tone is indicated. its _length_ was left to the discretion of the artist, who was supposed to be familiar with the accepted style of delivery termed "_recitativo parlante_." the example is from the recitative "dove sono," in act iii of _le nozze di figaro_, by mozart: [music: e susanna non vien! sono ansiosa di saper] this should be sung as below: [music: e susanna non vien! sono ansiosa di saper] the substitution of another note for the one actually written, both in recitative and aria, was also strictly regulated under the system or convention then in vogue, one perfectly understood both by composer and singer. in all the earlier italian operas, and in the english oratorios of handel, this system was followed: [music: recit. "behold, a virgin shall conceive" messiah handel (sung) emmanuel; (printed) and shall call his name emmanuel;] [music: aria. "i know that my redeemer liveth" messiah handel (sung) liveth (printed) i know that my redeemer liveth] [music: recit. "non più di fiori" la clemenza di tito mozart (sung) vitellia! costanza (printed) ecco il punto, o vitellia! d'esaminar la tua costanza] [music: "in questa tomba" beethoven (sung) oscura (printed) in questa tomba oscura] this substitution, therefore, of another note--a tone or semitone higher or lower, according to the phrase--is not only legitimate but essential in all music written in the italian manner. another cause of changes being necessary in the vocal part of many of the older classic writers, particularly of oratorio, is the frequently faulty syllabic accentuation. i have already mentioned this defect in the chapter on accent. handel, for instance, although living nearly all his life in england, never became quite master of its language; hence the numerous cases of the misplacing of syllables in his oratorios. this defect is also noticeable, but not in the same degree, in his italian operas. the books of _elijah_ and _st. paul_ (mendelssohn), and _the creation_ (haydn), were originally written in german, and therefore suffer somewhat in this respect when the translated english version is given. this fault is also noticeable in the english versions of bach's _passion_ (st. matthew), and mendelssohn's _psalm cxiv_. in the first quoted of these two works, in the response for double chorus to the question, "whether of the twain will ye that i release unto you?" the accent falls on the first syllable "_ba_-rab-bas"; in the second of the two works (_ th psalm_), the accent is placed on the last syllable, thus: "hal-le-lu-_jah_." neither of these accentuations is in accordance with english custom. a singer, therefore, is perfectly justified in rearranging the syllables in order that, as far as possible, the musical and verbal accents shall coincide. but there are rigorists, unaware of the usages and conventions previously spoken of, who are very severe in their judgment when any deviation is made from the printed score with which they follow the performance of classic works. such severity is unmerited, because unjust. although such persons sometimes inveigh against any and every change from the strict letter of the printed music--ignorant of the possibility, that only in this way can its spirit be respected--the changes in a multitude of cases are essential because due ( ) to reverential deciphering of an obsolete musical notation, ( ) to improvements in musical instruments, or ( ) to the sanction and authority of the composer himself. sometimes it is an orchestral conductor who reproaches the solo singers with their want of respect for the composer, because he hears at times interpolations or changes which find no place in his own score. the singers are accused of "altering the composer," of "taking liberties with the text." and yet these very changes may be traditionally correct; they may be in accordance with rules and conditions prevalent at the time the music was written, and employed on account of a desire to interpret the composer's own intentions, and not from mere vanity or caprice. nor are these necessary changes and departures from the printed scores of the classics confined to the vocal parts of the music composed by the old masters. as a matter of fact, the deviations which, in performance, are sometimes made from the printed edition of a musical composition, arise from a variety of causes. one of these is the discrepancy that exists between various editions of the same work; and sometimes the confusion is complicated by different versions having been prepared by the composer himself. this is notably the case with gluck's _orphée_, first written to an italian libretto by calzabigi and produced at vienna. when marie antoinette called her former viennese singing-master, gluck, to paris, she gave him an opportunity of displaying his genius by facilitating the production of his _iphigénie en aulide_ at the opéra, in . its enthusiastic reception recalled to the composer the like success which had attended the production of his _orfeo_ at vienna. he immediately set to work to revise it for the paris opéra, and fit it to a new french text, the latter supplied him by moline.[ ] [footnote : sir george grove, in the "dictionary of music and musicians," p. , says that the french text is by _molière_! this is a self-evident error.] but the title-rôle in the original italian version was written for, and sung by, guadagni, an artificial contralto (_contralto musico_). in its newer french dress the part was transposed and rearranged for the tenor legros; who, judging from the extreme altitude of the _tessitura_ employed, must have possessed either a _haute-contre_, or a very high light-tenor voice, and who may have employed the falsetto. this high _tessitura_, combined with the fact that the pitch has risen considerably since it was composed, renders the french version impracticable for tenors of the present day. here are the concluding bars of the famous air as written in the original italian version, and the same phrase as altered by gluck, when produced in paris. [music: "che farò senz' euridice?" dove andrò? che farò? dove andrò senza il mio ben? (as originally written by gluck for the italian version, vienna.)] [music: "j'ai perdu mon eurydice" sort cruel, quelle rigueur! je succombe à ma douleur, à ma douleur, à ma douleur! (as altered by gluck for paris; sung by the tenor legros. from a manuscript copy, bibliothèque de l'opéra.)] [music: "j'ai perdu mon eurydice" sort cruel, quelle rigueur! je succombe à ma douleur, à ma douleur, à ma douleur! (as sung by mme. viardot-garcia, théâtre-lyrique, paris; the part being restored to the original voice and key, but the change at the end, made for legros, retained.)] the finale to the first act was also changed; a tumultuous "hurry" for strings, evidently designed to accompany the change of scene to hades, being now replaced by a florid air, probably introduced at the desire of the principal singer as a medium for the display of his vocal virtuosity; a concession often exacted from composers of opera. this interpolated air was for a long time attributed to a composer--bertoni--who had himself composed an opera on the subject of _orphée_. later researches have, however, proved that this air is by gluck himself, taken from _aristeo_, one of his earlier works. when the famous revival of _orphée_ took place at the old théâtre-lyrique in paris, the rôle of orphée was restored to the type of voice--contralto--for which it was originally composed, and confided to mme. pauline viardot-garcia. she retained the air introduced for the tenor legros, but of course transposed, and with a reorchestration by camille saint-saëns; the now famous composer having at that time, by the request of berlioz, undertaken to continue and complete the revision of gluck's complete works, known as the pelletan edition.[ ] [footnote : see very interesting article signed c. saint-saëns in the _Écho de paris_ for july , .] other changes from the first italian score were also made by gluck in the later french version. here is an example; being the recitative immediately preceding the great air of orpheus in the last act: [music: (original italian version, as written for vienna.) misero me! la perdo, e di nuovo, e per sempre! o legge! o morte! o ricordo crudel! non ho soccorso, non m'avanza consiglio! io veggo solo (oh fiera vista!) il luttuoso aspetto dell'orrido mio stato! saziati, sorte rea! son disperato!] [music: c'est moi, c'est moi, qui lui ravis le jour. loi fatale! cruel remords! ma peine est sans égale, dans ce moment funeste, le désespoir, la mort, c'est tout ce qui me reste! (as written for the paris version, the rôle of orphée being then sung by a tenor.)] [music: c'est moi, c'est moi, qui lui ravis le jour. loi fatale! cruel remords! ma peine est sans égale, dans ce moment funeste, le désespoir, la mort, c'est tout ce qui me reste! (as sung by mme. viardot-garcia, the rôle being then restored to the contralto voice as in the italian version, while the changes made by gluck for the paris version were retained. this is now definitively adopted at the opéra-comique.)] again, discrepancies exist between various published copies of the same work, arising from the fact that sometimes the editors of these revisions may have mistaken the intentions of the composer. or, influenced by pardonable human vanity, they may have felt impelled to collaborate more directly with the composer, by adding something of their own. there is valid reason for the additional accompaniments, with which mozart has enriched the original scores of handel's _messiah_ and _alexander's feast_; and we have evidence of the skill, and can divine the reverence, with which these additions were accomplished. but how fatal would have been the results, had the delicate task been attempted by one in whom these qualities were lacking! also, there is every excuse for the additions made to gluck's _armide_ by meyerbeer for the opera of berlin; and we have the direct testimony of saint-saëns, who has examined this rescoring, as to the rare ability and artistic discretion with which the work has been done.[ ] [footnote : see _Écho de paris_, _op. cit._] from this evidence it appears that in the score as left by gluck, the trombones do not appear at all in _armide_. the drums, and stranger still, the flutes, are heard only at rare intervals; while the whole orchestration--sometimes a pale sketch of the composer's intentions--shows a haste and lack of care in marked contrast with the pains bestowed on the scoring of _alceste_, _iphigénie_, and _orphée_. the revisions and additions spoken of were undertaken by highly competent authorities, actuated only by the wish to restore in its purity the idea of the composer; and who to zeal, added the more valuable quality of discretion. ancient music, owing to the development of and changes in the instruments for which it was composed, can rarely be given as written by the author. even if the instruments of modern invention be eliminated, the orchestra of to-day is not the orchestra of handel. the oboe, for example, has so gained in penetrating power that one instrument to each part now suffices; in handel's time the feeble tone of the oboe rendered a considerable number necessary. the perfection of certain instruments, too, is the cause of modifications in the music written for them. the limited compass of the pianoforte, for example, was certainly the sole reason why beethoven failed to continue in octaves the entire ascending scale in one of his sonatas. had the piano in his day possessed its present compass, he would undoubtedly have written the passage throughout in octaves, _i.e._, as modern pianists play it. if a rigid adherence to the printed letter of ancient music is to be strictly observed, without consideration of the many causes that render this procedure undesirable, let consistency be observed by pushing the argument to its logical conclusion, _viz._, returning to the instruments used, and the composition of the orchestra that obtained, when these works were written. those who accuse artists of introducing changes, of not performing the music as the composer wrote it, should be quite sure as to what the composer really did write, since many changes are made both before and after the work is printed. they should also be certain that these changes are not such as the composer may have, or would have, sanctioned, seeing that by their use his meaning is more clearly expressed. at the _concerts spirituels_, given at the church of the sorbonne, paris, may be heard very excellent performances of oratorio by ancient and modern composers, from handel and bach to claude debussy; though i do not know whether or no _l'enfant prodigue_ (the prodigal son), by debussy, is properly styled an oratorio, seeing that it was recently given in london on the stage as an opera. these performances at the sorbonne are marked by a reverential attention to detail; the soloists, chorus and orchestra being very competent, and the conductor--m. paul de saunières--a musician of ability and experience. in spite of these great advantages, however, the works of several of the old classic composers suffer somewhat, by certain authentic traditions and conventions being either unknown or ignored. to cite only one instance out of many: at the sorbonne, the opening bars of the second movement of the recit. in _the messiah_, "comfort ye my people," etc., are performed as printed: [music: the voice of him that crieth in the wilderness] this music is written in the italian "manner," consequently its performance should be in conformity with the usages and conventions which obtained when the work was composed. one of these, as i have pointed out, was the substitution of one note for another in certain places; another, that in declamatory recitative, or _recitativo parlante_, the chord in the orchestra should come _after_ the voice ("_dopo la parola_"). these words appear in many scores of the italian operas, even of the present day. but when they do not, the musical director is supposed to be familiar with the custom. the following, therefore, is the authentic mode of performing the passage in question: [music: the voice of him that crieth in the wilderness] apart from these defects in the rendering of the ancient classics, it would be unjust not to acknowledge the great artistic merit and value of the performances, given--as oratorio should be--in the church. to hear _l'enfance du christ_ (berlioz) as performed at the sorbonne, with its particular facilities for obtaining the _ppp_ effects of the distant or receding angelic chorus, is to be impressed to a degree impossible of attainment in the concert-room. let those purists who resent any "tampering"--as they term it--with the composers' music listen to the following phrase, sung as it is printed in the ordinary editions: [music: the first-fruits _of_ them that sleep.] then let them hear it given according to the authentic and accepted tradition, and say which of the two versions most faithfully interprets the composer's meaning. [music: the first-fruits of _them_ that sleep.] * * * * * let us now consider alterations which do not appear in the printed editions, and yet may have been made or sanctioned by the composer. in comparison with painting and sculpture, music and the literature of the theatre are not self-sufficing arts. they require an interpreter. before a dramatic work can exist completely, scenery, and actors to give it voice and gesture, are necessary; before music can be anything more than hieroglyphics, the signs must be transmuted into sound by singers or instrumentalists. wagner embodied this truth in his pathetic reference to _lohengrin_: "when ill, miserable and despairing, i sat brooding over my fate, my eye fell on the score of my _lohengrin_, which i had totally forgotten. suddenly i felt something like compassion lest the music might never sound from off the death-pale paper." in other words, _lohengrin_, though finished in every detail, was merely potential music. to make it anything more, the aid of singers and orchestra are essential. composers and dramatic authors, in fact, _create_ their art-works; but it is their interpreters--actors, singers, instrumentalists--who _animate_ them, who breathe life into them. one of the inevitable consequences is, that the composer's ideal can never be fully attained. but changes in performance from the printed text of a composition are frequently the work of the composer himself. if really an artist, he is rarely perfectly satisfied with his completed work. the difference between his ideal and his materialization of it, is a source of anguish for him. the journey made by a vision of art from the brain that conceives it to the hand that imprisons it in marble, or depicts it in colour, or pens it in words or music, is a long one. and much grace or power, beauty or grandeur, is inevitably lost on the way. this is the explanation of the disappointment of all true artists with their creations. this is the origin of their endless strivings to perfect their works; the first embodiment is not a perfect interpretation of the artist's inspiration, and further reflection has revealed to him an improvement. the process is endless. _a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what is heaven for?_ if one wishes to surprise genius labouring to give birth to perfection, one should consult the later editions of victor hugo's works and note the countless emendations he made after their first publication--here a more fitting word substituted, there a line recast, elsewhere an entire verse added, or excised, or remodelled. this work of incessant revision is not restricted to poets. composers of genius are also inveterate strivers after perfection, are continually occupied in polishing and revising their music. and not all the modifications they make, or sanction, are recorded in the printed versions. for many are the outcome of after-thoughts, of ideas suggested during the process of what i have called transmuting musical hieroglyphics into sound. such modifications, usually decided upon in the course of a rehearsal--i am now considering particularly operatic works--are frequently jotted down, a mere scanty memorandum, on the singer's part or the conductor's score. but they are the work of the composer, or have received his approval, and, although not noted in the printed editions of his compositions, are transmitted orally from conductor to conductor, singer to singer, master to pupil. and thus a tradition is perpetuated. but the question of changes goes even further. prior to the advent of wagner, the singer was allowed great license in operatic works. this license was principally manifested in a two-fold form. the first is called _pointage_ (french), _puntatura_ (italian), and means the changing of the notes or contour of a musical phrase; the second is termed _changements_ or _variantes_ (fr.), _abbellimenti_ or _fioriture_ (it.), and refers to the interpolation and addition of ornaments, _i.e._, embellishments and cadenzas. * * * * * pointage this, as i have said, is the technical term given to the modification or rearrangement of the notes of a phrase, so as to bring it within the natural capabilities of the artist singing the rôle. a few illustrations will make the nature of _pointage_ clear. in rossini's _guillaume tell_, although it is written in a different style from his former works, whence less necessity for interpolations and modifications, occurs the following terrible passage for the principal baritone: [music: mais je connais le poids des fers, mais je connais le poids des fers.] every vocalist knows the difficulty experienced in singing very high tones to different syllables, each requiring a different conformation of the buccal cavity. the passage quoted--expressing tell's bitterness at the recollection of his past sufferings in prison, "well i know the weight of galling chain"--has to be declaimed with great energy. so far as the relative value of the notes is concerned, it is entirely _ad libitum_, the rhythmical figure in the orchestra having ceased one half-bar before. it is said that dabadie, a _basso cantante_ rather than baritone, to whom was entrusted the rôle of tell on the first production of the work at the opéra, paris, on august , , finding it impossible to sing the phrase as written, had recourse to a professor. he advised the _pointage_ given later. this change became traditional, and has since been followed, except, it is said, in the case of massol, who succeeded dabadie. he, being possessed of a very sonorous voice of exceptional compass, was able to give the phrase as written. this change, or _pointage_, must have been heard by rossini, and so must have been tacitly approved by him. this is the change made by dabadie: [music: mais je connais le poids des fers, mais je connais le poids des fers.] in italian lyric theatres, _pointage_ becomes necessary in many french operas, owing to the prevalent custom of allotting to contraltos certain rôles written for soprano and known as "dugazon rôles" (from madame dugazon, who created the type). the parts of siebel in _faust_ (gounod), urbain in _les huguenots_, stéphane in _roméo et juliette_ (gounod), are all written for soprano, and when sung in italian require not only transposition of the principal airs, but the use of _pointage_ in passages where transposition is impossible owing, for instance, to the participation of other characters in the scene. thus the air sung by the page urbain (_les huguenots_) on his entrance is sung in the french theatres as written by meyerbeer, _i.e._, in _b_ flat. in theatres where the italian version is given, this air is transposed a third lower into _g_, necessitating later numerous _pointages_, for the reason already given. i said that many deviations from the printed text are the work of the author, or are authorized by him. a moment's reflection will convince one of the truth of this statement. the singer chosen--usually by the composer himself--to "create" a rôle, _i.e._, to interpret for the first time some part in a new opera, generally studies it with the composer, or under his direct supervision, and thus learns, directly or indirectly, his ideas as to the meaning, style of execution, tempi, etc., of the music. very often during rehearsals, when the composer begins really to hear his own work, he makes modifications in certain passages, alterations of the words or suppressions of the notes that are either ineffective, or lie awkwardly for the voice. but the opera has already been printed for the convenience of the singers and choristers studying the rôles and choruses; consequently, such modifications, rearrangements, and "cuts" (as excisions are termed), do not find their way into the published scores. meyerbeer, as i have been informed by competent authorities, was constantly modifying his compositions. with him, the work of revision and emendation was never finished. it is said that this was more especially the case with his last opera, _l'africaine_, which he was continually altering and revising, never being able to satisfy himself. two versions of the libretto were prepared for him by scribe, and two distinct settings of the music are published, although only one is performed.[ ] [footnote : cases are numerous of changes made by composers even after their work has been produced. the fountain scene in _lucia_ was entirely remodelled by donizetti, some time after its original production at milan, the first setting being replaced by the "regnava nel silenzio" now used, written for persiani when the opera was first given at the san carlo, naples.] in nelusko's first air occurs the following passage, in which a great _crescendo_ is marked, culminating _ff_ on the word _rien_: [music: non, n'ôtent rien à ta majesté!] although the opera was produced after the composer's death, jean-baptiste faure, the great baritone chosen to create the rôle of nelusko, studied it with meyerbeer, who authorized several verbal and musical changes in it. [music: non, n'ôtent rien, non, non, non, n'ôtent rien à ta majesté!] without the first alteration it is impossible to realize the composer's wish for a climax on the word "_rien_"; the second change is due to the fact that the _tessitura_ of the phrase is somewhat high, and faure, who was a low rather than high baritone, dreaded the high _f_-[sharp]. indeed, it was for this latter reason that this most accomplished singer never sang in verdi's operas. according to his own statement, he had to deny himself this pleasure, because most of the baritone parts in the italian composer's operas are written in a high _tessitura_. when gounod wrote his _faust_ for the théâtre-lyrique, paris, spoken dialogue was used in place of the recitatives subsequently added by the composer when the work passed, ten years later, into the répertoire of the opéra. in its earlier form, therefore, it belonged to the category of _opéra-comique_, in which tenors were then permitted to use the falsetto voice for their very highest tones. this custom, though sanctioned in _opéra-comique_, was not permitted or accepted in _grand opéra_, to which gounod's work in the revised form now belongs. at the beginning of the sixth bar from the end of the tenor _cavatina_ in the garden scene: "_salut! demeure chaste et pure_," occurs the high sustained _c_. not all tenors who sing the rôle are possessed of the much-coveted "_do di petto_," so a discreet _pointage_ becomes a necessity, since the tone was originally intended, as i have said, to be sung in falsetto. those robust tenors who, possessing this tone, launch it out at full voice, unheeding the delicate accompaniment with violin obbligato in the orchestra, and the calm, mystic serenity of the surroundings, are surely more desirous of drawing the attention of the public to themselves, than actuated by an artistic desire to interpret faithfully the scene as intended by composer and librettist. it was owing to the use by light tenors of the so-called falsetto voice, now no longer in favor with the public, that such of the _opéras-comiques_ by boiëldieu, halévy, auber, etc., which still keep the stage, necessitate frequent _pointage_, in order to render their execution compatible with existing requirements. sometimes a composer utilizes an exceptional voice, as was the case with the rôles written for martin. this singer must have possessed either a strong tenor voice with exceptional low tones, or a baritone voice with perhaps an unusual command of the falsetto--history furnishes but vague information on this point. in any case, the rôles written for him--called martin-tenor or martin-baritone parts--are now assigned to the ordinary baritone. _pointage_ then becomes inevitable, as in the case of hérold's _zampa_, the compass required as printed being from [music] in the rôles, such as _mignon_ (thomas) and _carmen_ (bizet), written for madame galli-marié, their respective composers themselves have so arranged the parts that they may be sung by either mezzo-soprano or soprano. the rôle of mignon has alternatives, in order that it may be sung by three types of female voices. the roulades and cadenzas were subsequently added by the composer for madame christine nilsson. if the rôle is sung by a high soprano, mignon's first air, "connais-tu le pays," is transposed a tone higher into _e_ flat. in the famous duet between raoûl and valentine in the fourth act of _les huguenots_, the composer has given alternative notes for those tenors who do not possess the exceptional altitude required for the higher of the two: [music: ah! viens! ah! viens! ah! viens! or viens! ah! viens!] i heard recently, however, a performance of this opera, in which the tenor sang the whole of the music as written, without either transposition or _pointage_. so it was sung, i should imagine, by the famous adolphe nourrit, who created the rôle; but the pitch at that time ( ) was lower than it is at present. thus composers have recognized the necessity at times of _pointage_ in certain rôles written for exceptionally gifted singers, in order to render possible to the many that which was originally written for the few. changes from the published version have also been made--and proving effective have passed into tradition--by singers who, exercising the liberty then accorded them by composers, have slightly modified certain passages for several reasons: for instance, to augment the effect by making the phrase more characteristic of the vocal instrument, or to express more forcibly the composer's idea. the following illustrations will render my meaning clearer. the changes originated in the causes i have mentioned, and are attributed to madame dorus-gras: [music: "robert, toi que j'aime" tu vois mon effroi! tu vois mon effroi! change -froi! ah! grâce, grâce pour moi-même, pour toi-même.] the phrase "grâce, grâce," in which isabelle implores robert of normandy's forgiveness, occurs three times. when it recurs for the last time, a change from the printed text is not only justifiable; it is demanded, in order to give additional intensity and power to the phrase, and to avoid the monotony caused by mere repetition. this modification is all the more defensible, as the composer has substituted the orchestra, with the strings _tremolo_, for the rhythmical harp-figure with which he accompanies the phrase on its first and second presentations. here is the accepted traditional change: [music: grâce, grâce pour moi-même, pour toi-même.] again, to sing the final cadenza of this air as meyerbeer briefly indicated it, would be impossible and absurd: [music: (as printed) ah! grâce pour moi. (as sung) ah! grâce, ah! grâce pour moi.] other changes have their origin in the fact that sometimes a great climax is rendered impossible of realization because the musical phrase culminates on a vowel-sound difficult of emission on that note, and devoid of sonority; another word has sometimes to be substituted. for this reason, in the first air of alice in the same opera (_robert_), "_va, dit-elle_," a verbal rearrangement is always resorted to: [music: sa mère va prier pour lui, sa mère va prier pour lui, sa mère va prier pour lui, va prier] to avoid the disagreeable and ineffective result produced by the high descending passage on the word "lui" (pronounced in english as "lwee"), the last few bars are performed thus: [music: sa mère va prier, sa mère va prier] when _la tosca_ (puccini) was produced in french at the opéra-comique, paris, the unfortunate artist to whom was allotted the tenor rôle was expected by the translator to sing at full voice, and after a crashing chord from the entire orchestra, marked _ffff_ in the score, the following words: [music: au péril de ma vie] as it was found to be out of the question to produce the effect desired with the words as they stood, the phrase was afterwards changed to: [music: pour combattre l'infâme] frequently modifications, most happy in their effect, are due to the inspiration of a particularly gifted artist. madame viardot-garcia, finding the phrase of the cabaletta in the aria "_se romeo t'uccise_" (_romeo e giulietta_, bellini) somewhat weak and ineffective, made the skilful _pointage_ here given: [music: (as printed) ma su voi ricada il sangue (as sung by mme. viardot-garcia) ma su voi ricada il sangue] a great artist may feel at times the inadequacy of the phrase as it stands to convey justly the composer's idea. take, for instance, the well-known change which every soprano who sings the rôle of leonora introduces in the _miserere_ scene of _il trovatore_. the passage occurs four times in succession, and as printed becomes commonplace and monotonous. [music: di te, di te scordarmi! di te, di te scordarmi!] the accepted traditional change certainly conveys the impression of leonora's gradually increasing anguish and terror; not the idea that it is introduced merely to exploit a high tone: [music: di te, di te scordarmi! di te, di te scordarmi!] that this departure from the text must have been sanctioned by verdi, is, i think, proved by the fact that it has always been sung thus, and the composer himself must often have heard the substitution. he would certainly have forbidden its use, had he not approved of it, for he was particularly averse to having changes made in his music. the following anecdote illustrates this trait in his character. it was related by the late mme. marie saxe, better known under her italianized name of marie sasse. this distinguished soprano singer, a member of the paris opéra for a number of years, was engaged to give a certain number of performances at the opera of cairo. _aida_ was one of the operas stipulated for in her contract. she had never sung the rôle, and in studying it found the _tessitura_ of the music, at one or two points, a little too high for her natural means. as she was compelled by her contract to sing the opera, she asked verdi to make some slight changes to bring the music within her reach. but he refused absolutely to make the least alteration. madame saxe was specially selected by meyerbeer to create the rôle of sélika in _l'africaine_. she studied the part for three months with the composer, and sang it when the work was first given at the paris opéra. she was also chosen by richard wagner for the part of elisabeth when _tannhäuser_ was given its stormy performances, with niemann in the title-rôle, at the same theatre in . madame saxe possessed a score of _tannhäuser_ with the inscription in the composer's handwriting: "_a ma courageuse amie mademoiselle marie saxe._ _l'auteur_ richard wagner." the slight modifications, or _pointages_, asked from verdi, were not, i was assured by madame saxe, of a character to alter either the rôle or the opera, and she remarked (i quote her own words): "why should verdi have shown himself more unreasonable or less yielding than meyerbeer or wagner?" (_plus intransigeant, plus intraitable que_ meyerbeer _ou_ wagner?). * * * * * in tradition, however, there is the true or accepted tradition--so called because believed to have been sanctioned by the composer himself, or approved of by competent authorities and its use warranted by time--and the false. this latter is simply an accumulation of excrescences superimposed on the original by individual whim or personal fancy. these have been invented by singers desirous of bringing into relief certain special and peculiar gifts, or who have mistaken, perhaps forgotten, the original and authentic tradition. thus their artistic heritage has become so altered and disfigured by successive additions, or "machicotage," as to bear no resemblance to the original, this being buried under a heap of useless complications. but it may be asked, are there no authoritatively correct printed editions of such classics with the accepted traditions and the proper mode of their performance expressed in modern musical notation? yes: but they are incomplete, being for the most part confined to airs and other excerpts, instead of the complete works themselves. in this connection, i may cite the admirable edition of the "_gloires d'italie_" by the late erudite musician and authority, gevaert, for so many years director of the conservatoire at brussels. these editions are characterized by a scrupulous fidelity to the composers' text as it was understood when written, as well as by great taste and musical sense of what is appropriate and fitting, in such ornaments as the editor has introduced, when these have been left to the discretion of the singer. the solo parts for the principal singers in mozart's operas of _don giovanni_ and _le nozze di figaro_, edited and revised for performance by the well-known singing-master and excellent musician, signor randegger, are also admirable. but other editions exist which do not bear the same imprint of authority, or conscientious care in their revision, as do the versions just mentioned. in the edition of the well-known air "_j'ai perdu mon eurydice_" (_che farò senza euridice?_) from _orphée_ (gluck), revised by madame pauline viardot-garcia, no mention is made of two traditions which have been used and handed down by a number of the most famous singers of the rôle of orphée. i give them here: [music: (as printed) déchire mon coeur. j'ai perdu mon eurydice (traditional changes) ah! déchire mon coeur. j'ai perdu mon eurydice] the change on the third repetition of the principal theme is quite in accordance with the license then accorded in such airs. in a special version of the opera _armide_ (gluck), revised and edited by the late sir charles hallé, the first bars of the great air of armide in the first scene of the fourth act, "_ah! si la liberté_" (ah! if my liberty must from me then be taken), are printed thus: [music: ah! si la liberté] the situation is where armide perceives the knight renaud in the gardens of her enchanted palace, whither he has come to destroy the sorceress on account of her magic arts. although the enchantress knows that the mission of the knight is to deprive her of liberty, she herself succumbs to the fatal passion of love. i have briefly described the scene in order that my meaning may be clear. in the second half of the first bar, the _acciaccatura_ was never intended by the composer to be actually sung as printed. it was his only way of indicating the sob or sigh whereby armide finishes her exclamation, "ah!" the effect is called "the dramatic sob," and is known to every opera-singer. here is the composer's meaning, as far as it is possible to convey it in writing: [music: ah! si la liberté] (a _portamento_ must be made from the first note to the next, when the breath must be taken quickly to give the idea of a sob or sigh.) again, in a recent edition of the same air by the distinguished composer vincent d'indy (_nouvelle Édition française de musique classique_), occurs the following: [music: tu règnes dans mon coeur!] the effect of the _f_ sharp in the last bar, if sung against the harmony given, in which the preceding chord is resolved, would be intolerable. surely, the composer intended a pronounced _rallentando_ on the latter half of the bar, and a carrying of the voice by a _portamento_ to the last note. thus: [music: tu règnes dans mon coeur!] in the edition of the immortal air in the opera of _xerxes_, universally known as the "largo of handel," also revised and edited by d'indy, may be noticed the following: [music: non v'oltraggino mai la cara pace, ne giunga a profanarvi austro rapace!] of course, every operatic conductor knows that the chord in the orchestra must be played "after the voice," as the technical phrase has it. but not every pianist or organist is familiar with this usage, and the effect would be very disagreeable if given as written. it should be performed thus: [music: non v'oltraggino mai la cara pace, ne giunga a profanarvi austro rapace!] besides, why claim that a certain edition is "revised and edited," when all the care and musical knowledge seem to have been expended on the harmonies only? surely, the voice-part in these classics is not without its need of elucidation. an edition of _the messiah_, revised for performance, can scarcely be called accurate when such defects as the following occur: "and [fermata symbol over "they"] they ---- [breath symbol] were sore afraid." the following is the authentic mode of performing the phrase: "and [fermata symbol over dash] ---- [breath symbol] [slur symbol and "sombre" over the following words] they were sore afraid." in the same edition for the solo singers occurs: ("behold and see"): [music: if there be any sorrow like un_to_ his sorrow.] but by a slight syllabic rearrangement, the disagreeable accent on the last syllable of "un-_to_" is avoided, and the accent placed on the word "his," to which it belongs, while the composer's music remains untouched. [music: like unto _his_ sorrow.] again, in the same air occurs: [music: (as printed) like un_to_ his sorrow. (should be sung) like unto _his_ sorrow.] while recognizing the benefits conferred by some of these specially prepared editions, there remains still more to be accomplished in this direction before the work is complete. a flood of light has been thrown on the dark and nebulous places of the instrumental classics by various distinguished and highly competent musicians. it is sincerely to be hoped, in the interests of this branch of the æsthetics of vocal art, that those competent to speak with authority will do so, in order that in this direction also "the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain." i admit that this question of revising the composer's written text is an exceedingly delicate and difficult one. it should be attempted only by those possessed of the requisite authority, those who combine tact and taste with judgment and experience. to these qualities should be added a sincere and reverential desire to place in the highest relief the meaning of both poet and composer. * * * * * i have said that the license formerly accorded by composers to singers--particularly operatic singers--manifested itself in a twofold form. the second of these phases was the introduction in the body of a theme or melody, and also at its close, of embellishments. sometimes the composer briefly sketched these ornaments; at other times their places only were indicated. the ornaments in the body of an air are known as _abbellimenti_ or _fioriture_; those at its close, as _cadenze_. here is an example of the former, taken from the duet in _elisa e claudio_ by mercadante: [music: se un istante all'offerta d'un soglio vacillasse il mio genio primiero.] the following is the same passage ornamented: [music: se un istante all'offerta d'un soglio vacillasse il mio genio primiero] (as sung by mme. malibran. quoted from "_mécanisme des traits_," by de la madelaine, .) the rôle of rosina in rossini's _il barbiere_ has long been a favourite peg with prime donne on which to hang interpolated ornaments for the display of their vocal agility. some of these are not always in good taste, being trivial or banal in character, thus concealing the natural charm of the original melody under a species of henri herz variations. others, however, such as those used by the patti and the sembrich, for instance, are of great originality and excellent effect. here are some of the traditional ornaments and cadenzas sung by certain famous singers of the past in rosina's entrance cavatina: "_una voce poco fa_." this air was originally written by rossini in _e_ major, the part of rosina being intended for a mezzo-soprano, and was thus sung by the late paulina viardot-garcia. this exceptionally gifted artist, possessing a voice of very great compass, was enabled to sing not only the rôles assigned to mezzo-soprano contraltos, such as orphée, or fidès (_le prophète_), which she created, but also the parts given to dramatic sopranos. mme. viardot was thus able, with some slight modifications, to sing norma, desdemona (_otello_: rossini), rachel (_la juive_), etc. the rôle of rosina has now definitely passed into the possession of florid or _coloratura_ sopranos; much, therefore, of the music is of necessity transposed, the air in question being now sung one half-tone higher, in the key of _f_. here is a change used by mme. cinti-damoreau, who sang the music in the original key. the composer wrote: [music: si lindoro mio sarà.] mme. cinti-damoreau sang thus: [music: si lindoro mio sarà.] in the same bar mlle. henrietta sontag, who sang the air a semitone higher, introduced the following: [music: si lindoro mio sarà.] rossini wrote no cadenza to the air: [music: lo vincerò!] cadenza of mlle. sontag: [music: ah! ah! ah! lo vincerò!] i have already spoken of the bad taste exhibited by some mediocre singers in covering a coloratura air with so many roulades, etc., as to render it barely recognizable. it was after hearing one of his own arias overloaded and disfigured in this manner that rossini, who was noted for his biting wit and stinging sarcasms, is said to have remarked: "what charming music! whom is it by?" bellini, donizetti, and composers of their school, sometimes did little more than hand over to the singer engaged to create their works a rough sketch, as it were, which the artists were supposed to fill in and perfect. singers were expected to add such _fioriture_, or "flowers," as would best display their salient points of style and individual characteristics. the cavatina, or slow movement of the aria, was the medium which called for the qualities of expressive singing, while the cabaletta was a vehicle for the display of virtuosity and technical mastery. in this latter movement, the equivalent of the rondo in instrumental music, the performer was left perfectly free to use such embellishments as set forth his own gifts to the greatest advantage. some singers excelled in bold and rapid flights of scales, chromatic and diatonic; others, in the neat and clean-cut execution of involved _traits_ or figures. it must be remembered, that the great singers of the past were perfectly competent to add these ornaments themselves, as they possessed a complete and sound musical education. more: sometimes these singers even collaborated with the composers. crescentini, the last famous male sopranist, is reputed by history or legend--the two are not infrequently synonymous--to have been himself the composer of the well-known aria "_ombra adorata_," introduced by him in zingarelli's opera _romeo e giulietta_, as also of the prayer sung by romeo in the same work. his singing of it is said to have moved his audience to tears, and gained for him the decoration of the iron crown, conferred upon him by napoleon i. the emperor also induced him, by the offer of a large salary, to settle in paris as professor of singing. when these great artists--their career as public singers being ended--began in turn to form pupils, they were admirably fitted for the task of imparting instruction, being excellent musicians, and, as i have said, composers of no insignificant merit. they had a sound theoretical knowledge, compared with which that of many of our modern singers seems but a pale and feeble reflection. the collaboration of composer and interpreter is not altogether unknown in the domain of instrumental music. is it not historical that mendelssohn profited largely from the wise counsels of the celebrated violinist ferdinand david in the composition of his concerto for violin and orchestra? this does not mean that david contributed any musical phrases or ideas to the work; but that his practical knowledge of the special characteristics and capabilities of the solo instrument enabled him to suggest how the composer's thoughts might be most fittingly presented. returning to the question of the introduction of ornaments, etc., into a composer's work, the following extract may be of interest to the musical student. it is from a volume of criticism, now out of print, a copy of which is possessed by the present writer. the article appeared in _la patrie_ more than forty years ago, and was called forth by the ornaments written by the then well-known singer and teacher of great ability, stéphan de la madelaine. these changes were for the great air of agathe in the second act of _der freischütz_, and were the cause of much discussion among the music-critics of the time. "following the example of celebrated vocal virtuosi whom he had formerly known, and availing himself of the license then permitted, the master (de la madelaine) has introduced several alterations (_changements_). these, however, in no sense clash with the original character of the air itself. "that the introduction of such ornaments has caused an outcry, is not surprising. we should remember, however, that the _freischütz_ was written at a period when, in certain places, the composer left the field entirely open to the singer, permitted him to make such changes as he might deem necessary. it must not be thought that in so doing the interpreter corrects the composer: he simply seeks to express, to the utmost of his abilities, the intention of the author. "the operas of bellini, of rossini, and, in general, of all the italian masters, are full of these intentional gaps (_lacunes_) which were filled in by the singers. nay, in the earliest days of the neapolitan school, still greater liberty was allowed; the recitatives were all improvised by the executants, and were not even noted down. each singer made his own, which the _maestro al cembalo_ accompanied with a few simple chords. "in the cavatina in _norma_, each _cantatrice_ introduces her own changes on the recurrence of the principal theme, and the public applauds. why then this outcry against the same procedure in _der freischütz_? "_that this custom or practice might lead to great abuse and that it is necessary to uproot it gradually, is our opinion._ but this radical reform can be realized only in forthcoming works; those of the ancient school ought to be interpreted by following the conventions which the composer himself has respected. "that the _changements_ written by m. de la madelaine for the air of the _freischütz_ are permissible, is proved by the fact that weber himself has sanctioned and approved them, as, if need be, a great number of contemporaries can attest." (franck-marie.) whoever has had the good fortune to hear mme. marcella sembrich in the rôle of amina, in bellini's _la sonnambula_, will have heard an excellent example of remarkable technical skill or virtuosity, with irreproachable taste regulating its display. the ornaments and changes used by her in the _rondo finale_, "_ah, non giunge_," are models of their genre. what else could be expected of an artist so gifted as to be able to perform the lesson-scene in rossini's _il barbiere_ (introducing therein the air with variations by proch) in italian; and in the course of the same scene sing, in german, "_ich liebe dich_," by grieg, and play the andante and rondo russe, for violin, by de bériot, and a valse by chopin on the piano? the opera, _la sonnambula_, requires much rearrangement both of the music and of the verbal text, to which it is badly fitted. the greater part of the music written for elvino has to be transposed, mostly a third lower, in order to make it practicable under existing conditions. no effect whatever could be made were a cantatrice to follow implicitly the written notes of this opera, such being merely a rough sketch, as it were, of the composer's ideas, which the singer is supposed to complete. several instances from the andante "_ah! non credea mirarti_," will suffice to prove this. the following is the printed version. [music: ah non credea mirarti, sì presto estinto, o fiore.] this is but a suggestion of the composer's idea. the artist will therefore not follow too closely the printed version; but following the evident indications for a pathetic and expressive _cantabile_ will perform it thus: [music: ah! non credea mirarti, sì presto estinto, o fiore.] again a brief outline, as printed: [music: passasti al par d'amore, che un giorno, che un giorno sol durò.] which, if sung as follows, fills in the details: [music: passasti al par d'amore, che un giorno, che un giorno sol durò.] also the passage in the same aria, where amina sobs as she slowly lets fall to the ground the blossoms given her in the first act by elvino, requires an entire rearrangement of the syllables to bring out the composer's meaning. [music: che un giorno sol durò, passasti al par d'amor, d'amor.] let any one go over this passage carefully, and he will be convinced that it is, as i have said, merely a sketch of the composer's idea. as it stands in the published version it is impossible of execution, and if it were possible, would be devoid of all effect: the syllables being wrongly placed, no opportunity for breathing is given the singer, and the final cadenza is marred by being allotted to the word "amore." here is a revision of the latter, the cadenza being one i wrote for a pupil, mme. easton-maclennan, of the royal opera, berlin: [music: che un giorno sol durò, passasti al par d'amor, ah! d'amor.] it will thus be seen, from the numerous foregoing examples, that these ornaments and interpolations are not added from a vulgar idea of correcting or improving the composer's music, but are strictly in accordance with certain conventions thoroughly understood by both composer and singer. to omit them, or follow too closely the printed text, would be to ignore the epoch, school and character of the music; a careful study of which forms one of the cornerstones of interpretation. a skilled artist will always strive to analyze and interpret the intentions of the author. if one to whom is confided the vocal part of a composer's work were to limit himself to a mathematically correct reproduction of the written notes only, instead of searching below the surface for the author's meaning, his performance would merely resemble the accurate execution of a _solfeggio_ by a conscientious scholar. it would have the same relation to high artistic effort as the photographic reproduction of a landscape bears to the same scene as viewed and transmitted to canvas by a great painter. the sincere artist will carefully consider every detail. he will not be content to study his own part only, but will study the orchestral score which accompanies it. he will, in fact, follow the example set by good string-quartet players, who listen attentively to the other instruments during rehearsals, so that the perfect welding together of the different parts may form a homogeneous whole. such an artist, in complete possession of the mechanical resources of his art, will utilize them all to embody perfectly that which, with the composer, existed only as a mental concept, inadequately transcribed, owing to the limitations of his media--pen, ink and paper. and it is only when in possession of the authentic traditions of oratorio and opera that the singer, such as i have supposed, will be able to vivify these great creations, will be able to invest them with warmth and colour, and thus make clear all their meaning, reveal all their beauty. chapter v rÉpertoire although répertoire forms no integral part of style, being rather the medium for its practical application, a few words on this important subject may not be out of place. the répertoire necessary for a singer may be divided into two sections, opera and concert. the latter includes oratorio and cantata. in spoken drama, a performer may begin his career by playing the youthful lovers, and end it by impersonating the heavy fathers. he may first sigh as romeo, and later storm as capulet. not so in opera, or lyric drama, where the line of work to be followed is determined at the outset by the type of voice possessed by the aspirant, and which line (or _emploi_, as it is termed) he follows of necessity to the end of his professional career. i know there are some few instances of artists who, later, have successfully adopted rôles demanding another range than the one needed for their earlier efforts. but it is an open question whether the performer's instrument really changed. it must either have been wrongly classified at one of the two periods, or the vocal keyboard--so to speak--transposed a little higher or lower. the character of the instrument remains the same; a viola strung as a violin would still retain its viola quality of tone. the case is different where a soprano who may have begun by singing the florid rôles of opera, has so gained in volume of voice and breadth of style as to warrant her devoting these acquisitions to characters requiring more dramatic force than was needed, or could be utilized, in coloratura rôles. mlle. emma calvé, mesdames lilli lehmann and nordica, are notable examples of this. each of these distinguished artists began her career by singing what are known as "princess" rôles, before successfully portraying carmen or the brünnhildes. as a rule, it is by singing many different rôles that the lyric artist gains the skill and sureness that may ultimately render him famous in a few. mlle. grandjean, now principal first dramatic soprano at the paris opéra, began her career there--after a few appearances at the opéra-comique--by singing the very small part of the nurse magdalene in wagner's _die meistersinger_. perseverance, if allied to ability, can accomplish much. when the type of voice and the natural temperament of the singer do not accord--as sometimes happens--he would be unwise not to adhere to the work for which his vocal means, not his preference, are best adapted. to follow the contrary path, and essay rôles requiring for their fitting expression more dramatic fire and intensity than his vocal instrument can supply, would be to shorten his career, owing to the certain deterioration and possible extinction of the voice. there are sufficient voiceless examples to prove, were proof needed, the truth of this assertion; and their atonic condition is due to the cause mentioned. the first requisite for the aspirant who wishes to follow the operatic career is undoubtedly a voice possessed of the three essential factors of quality, power and compass; what is termed in italy a "_voce di teatro_," or voice for the theatre. but an opera-singer is actor as well as singer, and in this direction more--much more--is now demanded of him than formerly. but to those possessed of what is known as the instinct of the theatre, or scenic instinct, the gestures and attitudes of the operatic stage, being largely conventional, are soon acquired. scenic accomplishments are undoubtedly necessary to the stage-singer, but his mimetic studies should not preclude him from making himself a thorough master of the vocal side of his art. there is a difference between an actor who sings, and a singer who acts. besides the mimetic faculty, certain physical gifts are also needed by the opera-singer, according to the requirements of the line of rôles to which he is inevitably assigned by the nature and type of his particular voice. it is true that stage artifice has now reached great perfection; but it has its limits, and cannot accomplish miracles. it requires much imagination and great generosity on the part of the public to accept a tenor, whose waist-girth would not unfit him for the part of sir john falstaff, as a youthful and romantic romeo, or a half-starved and emaciated rodolphe. illusion is rudely shaken, if not absolutely dispelled, in witnessing a soprano, whose age and _embonpoint_ are fully in evidence, impersonate a girlish gilda or a consumptive traviata. such discrepancies may be overlooked by the public in the case of old established favourites, but it would be unfortunate for the débutant to commence with these drawbacks. and yet there have been a few famous artists whose extraordinary vocal talent atoned for other very pronounced defects. such an one was the pisaroni, a celebrated contralto, said to have been so ill-favoured that she always forwarded her likeness to any opera director to whom she was personally unknown, who offered her an engagement. but so exceptional were her voice and talent, that certain of her contemporary artists have declared that by the time pisaroni had reached the end of her first phrase, the public was already conquered. as personal preference is very often mistaken for aptitude or natural fitness, a lyric artist is not always the best judge as to which of the rôles in his répertoire are really fitted to display his abilities to the best advantage. the singer combines in himself both instrument and performer; therefore he rarely, if ever, hears himself quite as does another person. until possessed of the ripened judgment gained by experience, he would do well to be guided in this matter by one who, to the knowledge required, adds taste and discernment. that a liking or preference is sometimes mistaken for the aptitude and gifts necessary for the successful carrying out of certain work, is too well known to be even questioned. it is the constantly recurring case of the low comedian who wishes to play hamlet. a young tenor whose great vocal and physical advantages made him an ideal duke in _rigoletto_, a fascinating almaviva in _il barbiere_, found but little enjoyment in life because his director refused to allow him to try otello and tannhäuser, for which he was vocally unfitted. never show the public what you cannot do, is the best advice that can be given in such cases. even the finest and most experienced singers are occasionally liable to make mistakes in the choice of rôles. madame patti once sang carmen, and madame melba essayed brünnhilde; but i am not aware that either of these famous cantatrices repeated the experiment. * * * * * for those who intend to follow a concert-singer's career, there is a vast literature of vocal music specially written for this purpose, from which to select. there are few modern operatic excerpts which do not suffer somewhat by being transplanted from the stage to the concert-platform. in no case is this more clearly proved than in the selections so frequently given from wagner's music-dramas. of course, i am speaking more particularly of those extracts which require the services of a vocalist. such selections given in the concert-room are in distinct violation of the composer's own wishes, frequently expressed. besides lacking the necessary adjuncts of gesture, costume and scenery, the musical conditions of the concert-room are very unfavourable to the unfortunate singer. he has to struggle to make himself heard above the sonorities of a powerful orchestra generally numbering over a hundred musicians, and placed directly around and behind him, instead of on a lower level, as in the case of a lyric theatre. besides which, wagner's works can now be heard in all large cities under the conditions necessary for their proper presentment, and as intended by their author-composer. therefore, there is no longer the same reason as may have existed years ago, for the performance of extracts at purely symphonic concerts. in cases where the singer has to select numbers for a symphonic concert and to be accompanied by an orchestra, there is a mine of wealth, not yet exhausted, in the operas of the older classic composers. these, being less heavily orchestrated than the ultra modern works written for the theatre, do not suffer in the same degree from the different disposition of the orchestral instruments. there are also a few vocal numbers with orchestral accompaniments written in the form of a "scena," such as the "ah, perfido" of beethoven, and the "infelice" of mendelssohn, which might possibly form an agreeable change to the frequenters of symphonic concerts, jaded a little, perhaps, with the oft-repeated "dich theure halle" and "prayer" from _tannhäuser_. in order to render them more in keeping with the conditions of symphonic concerts, orchestral accompaniments, to many songs by the classic composers, have been made by excellent musicians from the original piano-part. the ethical question involved in the presentation of such works in a form other than that written by the composer, need not be considered here. each artist must decide the matter for himself. so far as songs with accompaniments for the piano are concerned, there is a mine practically inexhaustible and from which new treasures are constantly brought to light. for recital purposes, the choice and sequence of a programme is second in importance only to its execution. and although suppleness and adaptability are valuable, even necessary, qualities, in a concert-singer, he will sometimes find that certain songs--admirable in themselves--are unsuited to him, for reasons which it is not always possible to define. in such cases it is not a matter of compass, or _tessitura_, of voice, or even temperament; there is some hidden lack of sympathy between the composer and his interpreter. a song should seem like a well-fitting garment; not only admirably made, but specially designed for the person who wears it. chapter vi conclusion the art of singing is at present in a period of transition; and all unsettled conditions are unsatisfactory. former standards are being thrown down; and the new ones are not yet elected, or, if chosen, not yet firmly fixed in the places of the old. all arts have a period in their history when they seem to reach their culminating point of technical perfection. perhaps this point is reached when the art is practised for its own sake, without giving much consideration or attributing special importance to what it expresses. sculpture reached its apogee under the greeks, who, more than any other race, prized form--particularly as manifested in its highest expression, the human figure. painting also was at its climax of technical development during the renaissance, when life was full of movement, and costume picturesque. but at this period in each of the two arts, skill was regarded as of more importance than the subject. in other words, the perfection of the sculptor's statue or the scene depicted by the painter was of more interest and importance than the object or scene itself. if the work were admirably executed, the story it told had relatively little importance. singing, which is speech conveyed through music, similarly reached its highest point of technical excellence when the voice of the singer was considered as little more than a mechanical instrument; when beauty of tone-quality and perfect virtuosity were the only ends for which to strive. this period was at its height with farinelli, caffarelli, gizziello, and ended perhaps with crescentini. that these singers possessed extraordinary technical skill, or execution, is amply attested by the exercises and airs, still extant, written for them by porpora, hasse, veracini, and others. that they also had musical sentiment or expression, is authoritatively proved from the emotion caused in their auditors by their performance of a slow movement or _cantabile_. but it was musical expression only, and as if performed on a solo instrument, as a flute or violin, which does not possess the faculty of uttering words. the operas in which these singers appeared had some plot or story, it is true; but its importance was of the slightest--analogous to, and of the same value as, the subject in painting and sculpture at corresponding periods of their history. but singing, like these two sister-arts, has passed the period when it was, or could be, appreciated purely for the perfection of its technique. it has developed and broadened in other directions, and more now is demanded of the singer than mere mechanical perfection. composers--notably gluck--began to perceive the great possibilities to be attained by the development of the greek lyric ideal; that is, the presentation of the poetic idea by, and through the medium of, music; instead of being, as formerly, merely its excuse, a framework for the musician upon which to hang melodies. although gluck, like all innovators, was considered by his contemporaries as a revolutionary and iconoclast, he only strove to develop and perfect an art that had already existed in a primitive form. this was the art of animating a poetic idea by means of melopoeia; which wagner later developed still further. * * * * * gradually, two essentials of good singing--tone-quality and truth of intonation--began to be neglected. but why should either of these two factors be less essential to a singer than to an instrumentalist? of late it has been tacitly assumed, if not boldly claimed, that sentiment, passion, temperament, atoned for--even if they did not entirely replace--voice and lack of skill in the artist. but what constitutes an artist? art has been defined by an english lexicographer as "doing something, the power for which is acquired by experience, study or observation;" and an artist, as "one skilled in the practice of any art." the french writer d'alembert says, "_l'art s'acquiert par l'étude et l'exercice_" (art is acquired by study and practice). if these definitions of art be accepted, its external expression or manifestation is essential through some vehicle or medium, otherwise there is neither art nor artist. concepts or ideals have their genesis in mind, but were they to remain there, the poet, painter, sculptor or musician (composer or interpreter) would have no right to the title of artist, because his concepts remained in thought-form only, and unexpressed. therefore, as a composer can be accepted as artist only when he has given that to the world which entitles him to the distinction, how can his so-called interpreter be considered an artist when, through insufficiency of technical ability, he is unable to present satisfactorily the author's concept? no matter in what abundant measure such a performer may possess the good qualities of earnestness, conviction and sincerity, he is not an artist. "_poeta nascitur, non fit_," has long been accepted as a truism; and similarly, it is supposed that the artist also is born, not made. but seeing that the mechanical side of any art is learned by experience, study, or observation--still to quote the definition--without which an adequate manifestation of that art is impossible, then certainly the artist is made. he is born with certain qualities necessary for the artist, it is true; but failing his technical skill, these other gifts can never be fully utilized. it is to be deplored that the studies of many vocal aspirants are not conducted on the same plan that is followed by those who desire to attain perfection on a musical instrument. these acquire a technique, and learn or study many works which may broaden or perfect their style, before commencing to prepare a répertoire. the opposite course is followed by many students of singing, who study rôles, instead of learning first how to sing. the full meaning of the highest examples of the modern lyric drama can be made apparent only by those who have fully mastered the vocal, as well as the mimetic, side of lyric art. too much importance is, in my opinion, attached to the latter branch, at the cost of the former. i repeat, an opera-singer should be a singer who acts, not an actor who sings. * * * * * on the occasion of the bestowal of awards at the paris conservatoire in august, , m. dujardin-beaumetz, under-secretary for the fine arts, in his address to the students made pointed allusion to the difference of results between the instrumental classes and those for singing. said the orator: "it is claimed that singing is in a state of decadence, and that the cause is largely due to the style of modern music. it is rather owing to the fact that this art is not studied at present with the same methodic diligence that formerly obtained. i would remind the students of singing that they gain nothing by neglecting the earlier studies, and that their professional future would be better assured if it rested on a solid basis of vocal technique. it is, therefore, in their interest that, with a view to assure this important point, certain reforms will be instituted."[ ] [footnote : one of these reforms was that the first year's study is to be devoted entirely to tone-formation; no attention being paid to the employment of the tones in melody. nor are the professors of singing at the conservatoire now selected--as was formerly the case--exclusively from among ex-opera-singers.] the professors of the classes for singing were also advised to draw more on the great classic writers for the voice, instead of confining themselves principally to the operatic répertoire. every art reaches its apex of perfection, and then seems to decline; it may even temporarily disappear. but, being immortal, it is never lost. it finds other modes of manifestation, and reappears in other forms. the principles on which it is founded do not change; but constantly changing conditions necessitate a new application of these principles. this necessity was acknowledged for poetry itself by andré chénier: "_sur des pensées nouveaux, faisons des vers antiques._" (let us embody modern thoughts in classic verse.) music follows the great laws of development to which all things are subject. it would be foolish, nay, impossible, to try to resuscitate an old form of art. foolish, because the art itself would have lost all except its archaic charm or interest; impossible, because conditions have so completely changed that the attempt would be merely the galvanizing of a corpse, not its reanimation. similarly, the art of singing can be successful only in proportion as it recognizes the existence of other conditions. these it meets by observing the old principles, but changing their mode of application. the education of the singer of to-day requires to be conducted on broader and more comprehensive lines than in the past, on account of the different conditions which have presented themselves. singing--that is, the alliance and utterance of music and poetry--is one of the highest manifestations of the beautiful, and is man's supreme and greatest creation. therefore, singing will not seek in future to rival a mechanical instrument. it will, it is evident, give to the poetic idea a prominent, though not a predominant, place. but this poetic idea can be revealed to the listener only by a singer who is master of all the technical phases of his art. these component parts of his vocal education must of necessity comprise--as was laid down in the opening chapter of this work--pose of voice, technique, style, and répertoire. it has been demonstrated that the first of these elements is essential, because the other stones of the complete structure cannot be successfully laid on an insecure foundation. the singer must have the second, or he will be unable to materialize his concept, like an unskilled carver who possesses the necessary material and tools, but lacks the technical ability to utilize either. he must possess colour, whereby his vocal palette is set with the varied tints necessary for the different sentiments to be expressed; accent, so that character may be given to the music and appropriate emphasis to the text; and phrasing, in order that he may punctuate the music effectively and the words intelligently. perfect master of these, he is in possession of all that goes to make up style. and, if these premises be accepted, it must be evident that he is in possession of the qualities that were necessary to make singers great in the past, and are indispensable to make them great in the future. great singers on the art _of_ singing educational conferences with foremost artists by james francis cooke a series of personal study talks with the most renowned opera concert and oratorio singers of the time _especially planned for voice students_ [illustration] theo. presser co. philadelphia, pa. copyright, , by theo. presser co. international copyright secured contents page introduction the technic of operatic production what the american girl should know about an operatic career _frances alda_ modern vocal methods in italy _pasquale amato_ the main elements of interpretation _david bispham_ success in concert singing _dame clara butt_ the value of self-study in voice training _giuseppe campanari_ italy, the home of song _enrico caruso_ modern roads to vocal success _julia claussen_ self-help in voice study _charles dalmores_ if my daughter should study for grand opera _andreas dippel_ how a great master coached opera singers _emma eames_ the open door to opera _florence easton_ what must i go through to become a prima donna? _geraldine farrar_ the master songs of robert schumann _johanna gadski_ teaching yourself to sing _amelita galli-curci_ the know how in the art of singing _mary garden_ building a vocal repertoire _alma gluck_ opportunities for young concert singers _emilio de gogorza_ thoroughness in vocal preparation _frieda hempel_ common sense in training and preserving the voice _dame nellie melba_ secrets of bel canto _bernice de pasquali_ how fortunes are wasted in vocal education _marcella sembrich_ keeping the voice in prime condition _ernestine schumann-heink_ italian opera in america _antonio scotti_ the singer's larger musical public _henri scott_ singing in concert and what it means _emma thursby_ new aspects of the art of singing in america _reinald werrenrath_ how i regained a lost voice _evan williams_ introduction vocal gold mines and how they are developed plutarch tells how a laconian youth picked all the feathers from the scrawny body of a nightingale and when he saw what a tiny thing was left exclaimed, "_surely thou art all voice and nothing else!_" among the tens of thousands of young men and women who, having heard a few famous singers, suddenly determine to follow the trail of the footlights, there must be a very great number who think that the success of the singer is "voice and nothing else." if this collection of conferences serves to indicate how much more goes into the development of the modern singer than mere voice, the effort will be fruitful. nothing is more fascinating in human relations than the medium of communication we call speech. when this is combined with beautiful music in song, its charm is supreme. the conferences collected in this book were secured during a period of from ten to fifteen years; and in every case the notes have been carefully, often microscopically, reviewed and approved by the artist. they are the record of actual accomplishment and not mere metempirical opinions. the general design was directed by the hundreds of questions that had been presented to the writer in his own experience in teaching the art of singing. only the practical teacher of singing has the opportunity to discover the real needs of the student; and only the artist of wide experience can answer many of the serious questions asked. the writer's first interest in the subject of voice commenced with the recollection of the wonderfully human and fascinating vocal organ of henry ward beecher, whom he had the joy to know in his early boyhood. the memory of such a voice as that of beecher is ineradicable. once, at the same age, he was taken to hear beecher's rival pulpit orator, the rev. t. de witt talmage, in the brooklyn tabernacle. the harsh, raucous, nasal, penetrating, rasping, irritating voice of that clergyman only served to emphasize the delight in listening to beecher. then he heard the wonderful orotund organ of col. robert j. ingersoll and the sonorous, mellow voice of edwin booth. shortly he found himself enlisted as a soprano in the boy choir of a large episcopal church. while there he became the soloist, singing many of the leading arias from famous oratorios before he was able to identify the musical importance of such works. then came a long training in piano and in organ playing, followed by public appearances as a pianist and engagements as an organist and choirmaster in different churches. this, coupled with song composition, musical criticism and editing, experience in conducting, managing concerts, accompanying noted singers and, later, in teaching voice for many years, formed a background that is recounted here only to let the reader know that the conferences were not put down by one unacquainted with the actual daily needs of the student, from his earliest efforts to his platform triumphs. what must the singer have? what must the singer have? a voice? of course. but how good must that voice be? "ah, there's the rub!" it is this very point which adds so much fascination to the chances of becoming a great singer; and it is this very point upon which so many, many careers have been wrecked. the young singer learns that jenny lind was first refused by garcia because he considered her case hopeless; he learns that sir george henschel told bispham that he had insufficient voice to encourage him to take up the career of the singer; he learns dozens of similar instances; and then he goes to hear some famous singer with slender vocal gifts who, by force of tremendous dramatic power, eclipses dozens with finer voices. he thereupon resolves that "voice" must be a secondary matter in the singer's success. there could not be a greater mistake. there must be a good vocal basis. there must be a voice capable of development through a sufficient gamut to encompass the great works written for such a voice. it must be capable of development into sufficient "size" and power that it may fill large auditoriums. it must be sweet, true to pitch, clear; and, above all, it must have that kind of an individual quality which seems to draw the musical interest of the average person to it. the perfect voice paradoxically enough, the public does not seem to want the "perfect" voice, but rather, the "human" voice. a noted expert, who for many years directed the recording laboratories of a famous sound reproducing machine company, a man whose acquaintance with great singers of the time is very wide, once told the writer of a singer who made records so perfect from the standpoint of tone that no musical critic could possibly find fault with them. yet these records did not meet with a market from the general public. the reason is that the public demands something far more than a flawless voice and technically correct singing. it demands the human quality, that wonderful something that shines through the voice of every normal, living being as the soul shines through the eyes. it is this thing which gives individuality and identity to the voice and makes the widest appeal to the greatest number of people. patti was not great because her dulcet tones were like honey to the ear. mere sweetness does not attract vast audiences time and again. once, in a mediæval german city, the writer was informed that a nightingale had been heard in the _glacis_ on the previous night. the following evening a party of friends was formed and wandered through the park whispering with delight at every outburst from the silver throat. never had bird music been so beautiful. the next night someone suggested that we go again; but no one could be found who was enthusiastic enough to repeat the experience. the very perfection of the nightingale's song, once heard, had been sufficient. the lure of individuality certain performers in vaudeville owe their continued popularity to the fascinating individuality of their voices. albert chevalier, once heard, could never be forgotten. his pathetic lilt to "my old dutuch" has made thousands weep. when he sings such a number he has a far higher artistic control over his audience than many an elaborately trained singer trilling away at some very complicated aria. a second-rate opera singer once bemoaned his fate to the writer. he complained that he was obliged to sing for $ . a week, notwithstanding his years of study and preparation, while harry lauder, the scotch comedian, could get $ a night on his tours. as a matter of fact mr. lauder, entirely apart from his ability as an actor, had a far better voice and had that appealing quality that simply commandeers his auditors the moment he opens his mouth. any method or scheme of teaching the art of singing that does not seek to develop the inherent intellectual and emotional vocal complexion of the singer can never approach a good method. vocal perfection that does not admit of the manifestation of the real individual has been the death knell of many an aspiring student. nordica, jean de reszke, victor maurel, plançon, sims reeves, schumann-heink, garden, dr. wüllner, evan williams, galli-curci, and especially our greatest of american singers, david bispham, all have manifested a vocal individuality as unforgetable to the ear as their countenances are to the eye. if the reader happens to be a young singer and can grasp the significance of the previous paragraph, he may have something more valuable to him than many lessons. the world is not seeking merely the perfect voice but a great musical individuality manifested through a voice developed to express that individuality in the most natural and at the same time the most comprehensive manner possible. therefore, young man and young woman, does it not seem of the greatest importance to you to develop, first of all, the _mind and the soul_, so that when the great hour comes, your audience will hear through the notes that pour from your throat something of your intellectual and emotional character? they will not know how, nor will they ask why they hear it,--but its manifestation will either be there or it will not be there. upon this will depend much of your future success. it can not be concealed from the discerning critics in whose hands your progress rests. the high intellectual training received in college by ffrangçon davies, david bispham, plunkett greene, herbert witherspoon, reinald werrenrath and others, is just as apparent to the intelligent listener, in their singing at recitals, as it would be in their conversation. others have received an equivalent intellectual training in other ways. the young singer, who thinks that in the future he can "get by" without such a training, is booked for disappointment. get a college education if you can; and, if you can not, fight to get its equivalent. no useful experience in the singer's career is a wasted one. the early instrumental training of melba, sembrich, campanari, hempel, dalmores, garden, and galli-curci, shows out in their finished singing, in wonderful manner. every singer should be able to play the piano well. it has a splendid effect in the musical discipline of the mind. in european conservatories, in many instances, the study of the piano is compulsory. your philosophy of singing the student of singing should be an inveterate reader of "worthwhile" comments upon his art. in this way, if he has a discriminating mind, he will be able to form a "philosophy of singing" of his own. richard wagner prefaced his music dramas with lengthy essays giving his reasons for pursuing a certain course. whatever their value may be to the musical public at this time, it could not have been less than that to the great master when he was fighting to straighten out for his own satisfaction in his own mind just what he should do and how he should do it. therefore, read interminably; but believe nothing that you read until you have weighed it carefully in your own mind and determined its usefulness in its application to your own particular case. the student will find the following books of real value in his quest for vocal truth: _the philosophy of singing_, clara kathleen rogers; _the vocal instructor_, e. j. myer; _the psychology of singing_, david c. taylor; _how to sing_, lilli lehmann; _reminiscences of a quaker singer_, david bispham; _the art of the singer_, w. j. henderson. the student should also read the biographies of famous singers and keep in touch with the progress of the art, through reading the best magazines. the history of singing the history of singing parallels the history of civilization. egypt, israel, greece and rome made their contributions; but how they sang and what they sang we can not definitely know because of the destruction of the bridge between ancient and modern notation, and because not until thomas edison invented the phonograph in , was there any tangible means of recording the voices of the singers. the wisdom of socrates, plato and cæsar is therefore of trifling significance in helping us to find out more than how highly the art was regarded. the absurd antics of nero, in his ambition to distinguish himself as a singer, indicated in some more or less indefinite way the importance given to singing in the heyday of rome. the incessant references to singing, in greek literature, tell us that singing was looked upon not merely as an accomplishment but as one of the necessary arts. coincident with the coming of italian opera, about , we find a great revival of the art of singing; and many of the old italian masters have bequeathed us some fairly instructive comments upon the art of _bel canto_. that these old italian teachers were largely individualists and taught empirically, with no set methods other than that which their own ears determined, seems to be accepted quite generally by investigators at this date. the _osservazione sopra il canto figurato_ of pietro francesco tosi (procurable in english), published in , and the _reflessioni pratichi sul canto figurato_, published in , are valuable documents for the serious student, particularly because these men seemed to recognize that the so-called registers should be equalized. with them developed an ever-expanding jargon of voice directions which persist to this day among vocal teachers. such directions as "sing through the mask" (meaning the face); "sing with the throat open"; "sing as though you were just about to smile"; "sing as though you were just about to experience the sensation of swallowing" (_come bere_); "support the tone"; etc., etc., are often more confusing than helpful. manual garcia ( - ), who invented the laryngoscope in , made an earnest effort to bring scientific observation to the aid of the vocal teacher, by providing a tiny mirror on the end of a rod, enabling the teacher to see the vocal cords during the process of phonation. how much this actually helped the singing teacher is still a moot point; but it must be remembered that garcia had many extremely successful pupils, including the immortal jenny lind. the writer again advises the serious student of singing to spend a great deal of time in forming his own conception of the principles by which he can get the most from his voice. any progressive artist teacher will encourage him in this course. in other words, it is not enough in these days that he shall sing; but he must know how he produces his results and be able to produce them time and time again with constantly increasing success. note in the succeeding conferences how many of the great singers have given very careful and minute consideration to this. the late evan williams spent years of thought and study upon it; and the writer considers that his observations in this volume are among the most important contributions to the literature of voice teaching. this was the only form in which they appeared in print. only one student in a hundred thousand can dispense with a good vocal teacher, as did the brilliant galli-curci or the unforgetable campanari. a really fine teacher of voice is practically indispensable to most students. this does not mean that the best teacher is the one with the greatest reputation. the reputation of a teacher only too often has depended upon his good fortune early in life in securing pupils who have made spectacular successes in a short time. there are hundreds of splendid vocal teachers in america now, and it is very gratifying to see many of their pupils make great successes in europe without any previous instruction "on the other side." surely nothing can be more helpful to the ambitious vocal student than the direct advice, personal suggestions and hints of the greatest singers of the time. it is with this thought that the writer takes especial pride in being the medium of the presentation of the following conferences. it is suggested that a careful study of the best sound-reproducing-machine records of the great singers included will add much to the interest of the study of this work. the enormous incomes received from some vocal gold mines, such as caruso, john mccormack, patti, galli-curci, and others, have made the lure of the singer's career so great that many young vocalists are inclined to forget that all of the great singers of the day have attained their triumphs only after years of hard work. galli-curci's overwhelmingly successful american début followed years of real labor, when she was glad to accept small engagements in order to advance in her art. john mccormack's first american appearances were at a side show at the st. louis world's fair. sacrifice is often the seed kernel of large success. too few young singers are willing to plant that kernel. they expect success to come at the end of a few courses of study and a few hundred dollars spent in advertising. the public, particularly the american public, is a wary one. it may be possible to advertise worthless gold mining stock in such a way that thousands may be swindled before the crook behind the scheme is jailed. but it is impossible to sell our public a so-called golden-voiced singer whose voice is really nothing more than tin-foil and very thin tin-foil at that. every year certain kinds of slippery managers accept huge fees from would-be singers, which are supposed to be invested in a mysterious formula which, like the philosopher's stone, will turn a baser metal into pure gold. no campaign of advertising spent upon a mediocrity or an inadequately prepared artist can ever result in anything but a disastrous waste. don't spend a penny in advertising until you have really something to sell which the public will want. it takes years to make a fine singer known; but it takes only one concert to expose an inadequate singer. every one of the artists represented in this book has been "through the mill" and every one has triumphed gloriously in the end. there is one road. they have defined it in remarkable fashion in these conferences. the sign-posts read, "work, sacrifice, joy, triumph." with the multiplicity of methods and schemes for practice it is not surprising that the main essentials of the subject are sometimes obscured. that such discussions as those included in this book will enable the thinking student to crystallize in his own mind something which to him will become a method long after he has left his student days, can not be questioned. one of the significant things which he will have to learn is perfect intonation, keeping on the right pitch all the time; and another thing is freedom from restriction, best expressed by the word poise. william shakespeare, greatest of english singing teachers of his day, once expressed these important points in the following words: "the foundations of the art of singing are two in number: "first: (a) how to take breath and (b) how to press it out slowly. (the act of slow exhalation is seen in our endeavor to warm some object with the breath.) "second: how to sing to this controlled breath pressure. "it may be interesting at this point to observe how the old singers practiced when seeking a full tone while using little breath. they watched the effect of their breath by singing against a mirror or against the flame of a taper. if a note required too much pressure the command over the breath was lost--the mirror was unduly tarnished or the flame unduly puffed. 'ah' was their pattern vowel, being the most difficult on account of the openness of the throat--the vowel which, by letting more breath out, demanded the greatest control. the perfect poise of the instrument on the controlled breath was found to bring about _three_ important results to the singer: "_first result_--unerring tuning. as we do not experience any sensation of consciously using the muscles in the throat, we can only judge of the result by listening. when the note sounds to the right breath control it springs unconsciously and instantaneously to the tune we intended. the freedom of the instrument not being interfered with, it follows through our wishing it--like any other act naturally performed. this unerring tuning is the first result of a right foundation. "_second result_--the throat spaces are felt to be unconscious and arrange themselves independently in the different positions prompted by the will and necessary to pronounciation, the factors being freedom of tongue and soft palate, and freedom of lips. "_third result_--the complete freedom of the face and eyes which adapt themselves to those changes necessary to the expression of the emotions. "the artist can increase the intensity of his tone without necessarily increasing its volume, and can thus produce the softest effect. by his skill he can emit the soft note and cause it to travel as far as a loud note, thus arousing emotions as of distance, as of memories of the past. he produces equally well the more powerful gradations without overstepping the boundary of noble and expressive singing. on the other hand, an indifferent performer would scarcely venture on a soft effect, the absence of breath support would cause him to become inaudible and should he attempt to crescendo such a note the result would be throaty and unsatisfactory." another most important subject is diction, and the writer can think of nothing better than to quote from mme. lilli lehmann, the greatest wagnerian soprano of the last century. "let us now consider some of the reasons why some american singers have failed to succeed. how do american women begin their studies? many commence their lessons in december or january. they take two or three half-hour lessons a week, even attending these irregularly, and ending their year's instruction in march or, at the latest, in april. surely music study under such circumstances is little less than farcical. the voice, above all things, needs careful and constant attention. moreover, many are lacking lamentably in the right preparations. some are evidently so benighted as to believe that preparation is unnecessary. or do they believe that the singing teacher must also provide a musical and general education? "is there one among them, for instance, who can enunciate her own language faultlessly; that is, as the stage demands? many fail to realize that they should, first of all, be taught elocution (diction) by teachers who can show them how to pronounce vowels purely and beautifully, and consonants correctly and distinctly, so as to give words their proper sounds. how can anyone expect to sing in a foreign language when he has no idea of his own language--no idea how this wonderful member, the tongue, should be used--to say nothing of the terrible faults in speaking? i endorse the study of elocution as a preparatory study for all singing. no one can realize how much simpler and how much more efficient it would make the work of the singing teacher." finally, the writer feels that there is much to be inferred from the popular criticism of the man in the street--"there is no music in that voice." mr. hoipolloi knows just what he means when he says that. as a matter of fact, the average voice has very little music in it. by music the man means that the pitch of the tones that he hears shall be so unmistakable and so accurate, that the quality shall be so pure and the thought of the singer so sincere and so worth-while, that the auditor feels the wonderful human emotion that comes only from listening to a beautiful human voice. put real music in every tone and your success will not be far distant. james francis cooke. bala, pa. the technic of operatic production what the student who aspires to go into opera should know about the mechanical side of giving an operatic performance even after one has mastered the art of singing there is still much that the artist must learn about the actual working of the opera house itself. this of course is best done by actual experience; but the writer has found that much can be gained by insight into some of the conditions that exist in the modern opera house. in the childhood of hundreds of people now living opera was given with scenery and costumes that would be ridiculed in vaudeville if seen to-day. pianos, lamps, chairs and even bird cages were often painted right on the scenery. one set of costumes and properties was made to do for the better part of the repertoire in such a way that even the most flexible imagination was stretched to the breaking point several times during the performance. now, most of this has changed and the modern opera house stage is often a mechanical and electrical marvel. it is most human to want to peep behind the scenes and see something of the machinery which causes the wonderful spectacle of the stage. we remember how, as children, we longed to open the clock and see the wheels go round. behind the asbestos curtain there is a world of ropes, lights, electrical and mechanical machinery, paints and canvas, which is always a territory filled with interest to those who sit in the seats in front. much of the success of the opera in new york, during the early part of the present century, was due to the great efficiency of the director, giulio gatti-casazza. gatti-casazza was a graduate of the royal italian naval academy at leghorn, and had been intended for a career as a naval engineer before he undertook the management of the opera at ferrara. this he did because his father was on the board of directors of the ferrara opera house, and the institution had not been a great success. his directorship was so well executed that he was appointed head director of the opera at la scala in milan and astonished the musical world with his wonderful italian productions of wagner's operas under the conductorship of toscanini. in new york many reforms were instituted, and later took the new york company to paris, giving performances which made europe realize that opera in new york is as fine as that in any music center in the world, and in some particulars finer. the new york opera is more cosmopolitan than that of any other country. its company included artists from practically every european country, but fortunately includes more american singers and musicians to-day than at any time in our operatic history. we are indebted to the staff of the metropolitan opera house, experts who, with the kind permission of the director, furnished the writer with the following interesting information: [illustration: profile of the paris grand opera. (note that the stage section is larger than the auditorium. also note the immense space given to the grand entrance stairway.)] a world of detail few people have any idea of how many persons and how many departments are connected with the opera and its presentation. considering them in order, they might be classed as follows: the general manager and his assistants. the musical director and his assistants. the stage director and his assistants. the technical director and his assistants. the business director and his assistants. the wardrobe director and his assistants. the master of properties and his assistants. the head engineer and his assistants. the accountant and his assistants. the advertising manager and his assistants. the press representatives and his assistants. the superintendent and his assistants. the head usher and his assistants. the electrician and his assistants. few of these important and necessary factors in the production ever appear before the public. like the miners who supply us with the wealth of the earth, they work, as it were, underground. no one is more directly concerned with making the production than the technical director. in that we are fortunate in having the views of mr. edward siedle, technical director of the metropolitan opera company, of new york. the complete picture that the public sees is made under the supervision of mr. siedle, and during the actual production he is responsible for all of the technical details. his experience has extended over a great many years in different countries. he writes: the technic of the production i understand you wish me to give you some idea of the technicalities involved in producing the stage pictures which go to form an opera. let us suppose it is an opera by an american composer. my first procedure would be to place myself in touch with the author and composer. after having one or two talks with them i secure a libretto. when a mutual understanding is agreed upon between us as to the character of the scenes required and the positions of particular things in relation to the business which has to take place during the performance, i make my plans accordingly, and look up all the data available bearing upon the subject. it is now time to call in the scenic artist, giving him my views and ideas, so that he can start upon the designing and painting of the scenery. his first design would be in the form of a rough sketch and a more clearly worked-out ground plan. after further discussion and alterations we should definitely agree upon a scheme, and he would proceed to make a scale model. when this model is finished it is a perfect miniature scene of the opera as it will appear on the night the opera is produced. the author and composer are then called in to meet the impresario and myself for a final consultation. we now finally criticize our plans, making any alterations which may seem necessary to us. when these alterations are completed the plans are handed over to the carpenter, who immediately starts making his frames and covering them with canvas, working from the scale model. the scenic artist is now able to commence his work in earnest. the "properties" are our next consideration. sketches and patterns are made, authorities are consulted, and everything possible is done to aid the property master in doing his part of the work. unless the opera in question calls for special mechanical effects, or special stage machinery, the scene is adapted to the stage as it is. if anything exceptional has to be achieved, however, special machinery is constructed. the designing of the costumes is gone over in much the same way as the construction of the scenery. the period in which the opera is laid, the various characters and their station in life, are all well talked over by the composer, author and myself. the costume designer is then called in, and after listening to what every one has to say and reading the libretto, he submits his designs. these, when finished, are criticized by the impresario, the composer, the author and myself, and any suggestion which will improve them is accepted by the designer, and alterations are made until everything is satisfactory. the designs are then sent to the costume maker. the important matter of lighting and electrical effects is not dealt with until after the scenery has been completed, painted and set up on the stage, except in the case when exceptional effects are demanded. the matter is then carefully discussed and arranged so that the apparatus will be ready by the time the earlier rehearsals are taking place. the staff required by a technical director in such an institution as the metropolitan opera house is necessarily a large one. he needs an able scenic artist with his assistants and an efficient carpenter with his assistants to complete the scenic arrangements as indicated in the models. the completed scenery is delivered over to the stage carpenter who has a large body of assistants, and is held responsible for the running of the opera during rehearsals and performances. the stage carpenter has also under his control a body of carpenters who work all night, commencing their duties after the opera is over, removing all the scenery used in the opera just finished from the opera house and bringing from the various storehouses the scenery required for the next performance or rehearsal. the electrician is an important member of my staff, and he, of course, has a number of assistants. the property master and his assistants and the wardrobe mistress and her assistants also are extremely important. then the active engineer who is responsible for the heating and ventilating, and also for many of the stage effects, is another necessary and important member. in all, the opera house, when in full swing, requires for the technical or stage detail work alone about people. [illustration: how an operatic stage looks from behind.] thus far we have not considered the musical side of the production. this is, of course, under the management of the general director and the leading musical director. very little time at best is at the disposal of the musical director. a director like toscanini would, in a first-class opera house, with a full and competent company, require about fifteen days to complete the rehearsals, and other preparations for such a production as _aïda_, should such a work be brought out as a novelty. a good conductor needs at least four orchestra rehearsals. _pelleas et melisande_ would require more extensive rehearsing, as the music is of a new order and is, in a sense, a new form of art. important rehearsals while the head musical director is engaged with the principals and the orchestra, the chorus-master spends his time training the chorus. if his work is not efficiently done, the entire production is greatly impeded. the assistant conductors undertake the work of rehearsing the soloists prior to their appearance in connection with the orchestra. they must know the head director's ideas perfectly, and see that the soloists do not introduce interpretations which are too much at variance with his ideas and the accepted traditions. in all about ten rehearsals are given to a work in a room set aside for that purpose, then there are five stage rehearsals, and finally four full ensemble rehearsals with orchestra. in putting on an old work, such as those in the standard repertoire, no rehearsals are demanded. the musical forces of the metropolitan opera house, for instance, make a company of at least two leading conductors, twelve assistant conductors, about ninety soloists, a chorus numbering at least one hundred and twenty-five singers, thirty musicians for stage music, about twenty stage attendants and an orchestra of from eighty to one hundred performers, to say nothing of the costume, scenic and business staff, making a little industry all in itself. the general director, the stage manager, and often the musical director make innumerable suggestions to the singers regarding the proper histrionic presentation of their rôles. as a rule singers give too little attention to the dramatic side of their work and demand too much of the stage manager. in recent years there has been a great improvement in this. prior to the time of gluck, weber and wagner, acting in opera was a matter of ridicule. the ballet about seventy or one hundred persons make up the ballet of a modern grand opera. at least ten years of continuous study are required to make a finished ballet dancer in the histrionic sense. many receive very large fees for their services. the art of stage dancing also has undergone many great reforms in recent years; and the ballets of to-day are therefore much more popular than they were in the latter part of the last century. the most popular ballets of to-day are the _coppelia_ and _sylvia_ of delibes. the ballets from the operas of _la gioconda_, _samson et delila_, _armide_, _mephistophele_, _aïda_, _orfeo_, _l'africaine_, and _the damnation of faust_ also are very popular. at a modern opera house like the metropolitan in new york city the number of employees will be between six hundred and seven hundred, and the cost of a season will be about one million dollars. frances alda (mme. giulio gatti-casazza) biographical mme. frances alda was born at christ church, new zealand, may st, . she was educated at melbourne and studied singing with mathilde marchesi in paris. her début was made in massenet's _manon_, at the opera comique in paris in . after highly successful engagements in paris, brussels, parma and milan (where she created the title rôle in the italian version of _louise_), she made her american début at the metropolitan opera house in new york as gilda in verdi's _rigoletto_. since her initial success in new york she has been connected with the metropolitan stage every season. in she married giulio gatti-casazza, manager of the metropolitan opera house, and is probably better able to speak upon the subject herewith discussed than any one in america. she has also appeared with great success in london, warsaw, buenos aires and other cities, in opera and in concert. many of the most important leading rôles in modern opera have been created by her in america. [illustration: mme. frances alda. © underwood & underwood.] what the american girl should know about an operatic career mme. frances alda (mme. gatti-casazza) regularity and success to the girl who aspires to have an operatic career, who has the requisite vocal gifts, physical health, stage presence and--most important of all--a high degree of intelligence, the great essential is regular daily work. this implies regular lessons, regular practice, regular exercise, regular sleep, regular meals--in fact, a life of regularity. the daily lesson in most cases seems an imperative necessity. lessons strung over a series of years merely because it seems more economical to take one lesson a week instead of seven rarely produce the expected results. marchesi, with her famous wisdom on vocal matters, advised twenty minutes a day and then not more than ten minutes at a time. for nine months i studied with the great parisian maestra and in my tenth month i made my début. of course, i had sung a great deal before that time and also could play both the piano and the violin. a thorough musical knowledge is always valuable. the early years of the girl who is destined for an operatic career may be much more safely spent with czerny exercises for the piano or kreutzer studies for the violin than with concone solfeggios for the voice. most girls over-exercise their voices during the years when they are too delicate. it always pays to wait and spend the time in developing the purely musical side of study. moderation and good sense more voices collapse from over-practice and more careers collapse from under-work than from anything else. the girl who hopes to become a prima donna will dream of her work morning, noon and night. nothing can take it out of her mind. she will seek to study every imaginable thing that could in any way contribute to her equipment. there is so much to learn that she must work hard to learn all. even now i study pretty regularly two hours a day, but i rarely sing more than a few minutes. i hum over my new rôles with my accompanist, frank la forge, and study them in that way. it was to such methods as this that marchesi attributed the wonderful longevity of the voices of her best-known pupils. when they followed the advice of the dear old maestra their voices lasted a long, long time. her vocal exercises were little more than scales sung very slowly, single, sustained tones repeated time and again until her critical ear was entirely satisfied, and then arpeggios. after that came more complicated technical drills to prepare the pupil for the fioriture work demanded in the more florid operas. at the base of all, however, were the simplest kind of exercises. through her discriminating sense of tone quality, her great persistence and her boundless enthusiasm, she used these simple vocal materials with a wizardry that produced great _prime donne_. the precious head voice marchesi laid great stress upon the use of the head voice. this she illustrated to all her pupils herself, at the same time not hesitating to insist that it was impossible for a male teacher to teach the head voice properly. (marchesi herself carried out her theories by refusing to teach any male applicants.) she never let any pupil sing above f on the top line of the treble staff in anything but the head voice. they rarely ever touched their highest notes with full voice. the upper part of the voice was conserved with infinite care to avoid early breakdowns. even when the pupils sang the top notes they did it with the feeling that there was still something in reserve. in my operatic work at present i feel this to be of greatest importance. the singer who exhausts herself upon the top notes is neither artistic nor effective. the american girl's chances in opera the american girl who fancies that she has less chances in opera than her sisters of the european countries is silly. look at the lists of artists at the metropolitan, for instance. the list includes twice as many artists of american nationality as of any other nation. this is in no sense the result of pandering to the patriotism of the american public. it is simply a matter of supply and demand. new yorkers demand the best opera in the world and expect the best voices in the world. the management would accept fine artists with fine voices from china or africa or the north pole if they were forthcoming. a diamond is a diamond no matter where it comes from. the management virtually ransacks the musical marts of europe every year for fine voices. inevitably the list of american artists remains higher. on the whole, the american girls have better natural voices, more ambition and are willing to study seriously, patiently and energetically. this is due in a measure to better physical conditions in america and in australia, another free country that has produced unusual singers. what is the result? america is now producing the best and enjoying the best. there is more fine music of all kinds now in new york during one week than one can get in paris in a month and more than one can get in milan in six months. this has made new york a great operatic and musical center. it is a wonderful opportunity for americans who desire to enter opera. the need for superior intelligence there was a time in the halcyon days of the old coloratura singers when the opera singer was not expected to have very much more intelligence than a parrot. any singer who could warble away at runs and trills was a great artist. the situation has changed entirely to-day. the modern opera-goer demands great acting as well as great singing. the opera house calls for brains as well as voices. there should properly be great and sincere rivalry among fine singers. the singer must listen to other singers with minute care and patience, and then try to learn how to improve herself by self-study and intelligent comparison. just as the great actor studies everything that pertains to his rôle, so the great singer knows the history of the epoch of the opera in which he is to appear, he knows the customs, he may know something of the literature of the time. in other words, he must live and think in another atmosphere before he can walk upon the stage and make the audience feel that he is really a part of the picture. sir herbert beerbohm tree gave a presentation that was convincing and beautiful, while the mediocre actor, not willing to give as much brain work to his performance, falls far short of an artistic performance. a modern performance of any of the great works as they are presented at the metropolitan is rehearsed with great care and attention to historical detail. instances of this are the performances of _l'amore di tre re_, _carmen_, _bohême_, and _lohengrin_, as well as such great works as _die meistersinger_, and _tristan und isolde_. physical strength and singing few singers seem to realize that an operatic career will be determined in its success very largely through physical strength, all other factors being present in the desired degree. that is, the singer must be strong physically in order to succeed in opera. this applies to women as well as to men. no one knows what the physical strain is, how hard the work and study are. in front of you is a sea of highly intelligent, cultured people, who for years have been trained in the best traditions of the opera. they pay the highest prices paid anywhere for entertainment. they are entitled to the best. to face such an audience and maintain the high traditions of the house through three hours of a complicated modern score is a musical, dramatic and intellectual feat that demands, first of all, a superb physical condition. every day of my life in new york i go for a walk, mostly around the reservoir in central park, because it is high and the air is pure and free. as a result i seldom have a cold, even in mid-winter. i have not missed a performance in eight years, and this, of course, is due to the fact that my health is my first daily consideration. [illustration: pasquale amato. © mishkin.] pasquale amato biographical pasquale amato, for so many years the leading baritone at the metropolitan opera house in new york, was born at naples march st, . he was intended for the career of an engineer and was educated at the instituto tecnico domenico. he then studied at the conservatory of naples from to . his teachers there were cucialla and carelli. he made his début as germont in _la traviata_ in the teatro bellini at naples in . thereafter his successes have been exceptionally great in the music centers of south america, italy, russia, england, egypt, and germany. he has created numerous rôles at the metropolitan opera house, among them jack rance in the _girl of the golden west_; golaud in _pelleas and melisande_ (milan); _l'amore di tre re_; _cyrano_ (damrosch); _lodoletta_ (mascagni); _madame sans gene_. he has visited south america as an artist no less than ten times. his voice is susceptible of fine dramatic feeling. modern vocal methods in italy pasquale amato when i was about sixteen years of age my voice was sufficiently settled to encourage my friends and family to believe that i might become a singer. this is a proud discovery for an italian boy, as singing--especially operatic singing--is held in such high regard in italy that one naturally looks forward with joy to a career in the great opera houses of one's native country and possibly to those over the sea. at eighteen i was accordingly entered in the conservatory, but not without many conditions, which should be of especial interest to young american vocal students. the teachers did not immediately accept me as good vocal material. i was recognized to have musical inclinations and musical gifts and i was placed under observation so that it might be determined whether the state-supported conservatory should direct my musical education along vocal lines or along other lines. this is one of the cardinal differences between musical education in america and musical education in italy. in america a pupil suddenly determines that he is destined to become a great opera singer and forthwith he hires a teacher to make him one. he might have been destined to become a plumber, or a lawyer, or a comedian, but that has little to do with the matter if he has money and can employ a teacher. in italy such a direction of talents would be considered a waste to the individual and to the state. of course the system has its very decided faults, for a corps of teachers with poor or biased judgment could do a great deal of damage by discouraging real talent, as was, indeed, the case with the great verdi, who at the age of eighteen was refused admission to the milan conservatory by the director, basili, on the score of lack of talent. however, for the most part the judges are experienced and skilful men, and when a pupil has been under surveillance for some time the liability of an error in judgment is very slight. accordingly, after i had spent some time in getting acquainted with music through the study of notation, sight-singing, theory, harmony, piano, etc., i was informed at the end of two years that i had been selected for an operatic career. i can remember the time with great joy. it meant a new life to me, for i was certain that with the help of such conservative masters i should succeed. on the whole, at this time, i consider the italian system a very wise one for it does not fool away any time with incompetence. i have met so many young musicians who have shown indications of great study but who seem destitute of talent. it seems like coaxing insignificant shrubs to become great oak trees. no amount of coaxing or study will give them real talent if they do not have it, so why waste the money of the state and the money of the individual upon it. on the other hand, wherever in the world there is real talent, the state should provide money to develop it, just as it provides money to educate the young. italian vocal teaching so much has been said about the old italian vocal method that the very name brings ridicule in some quarters. nothing has been the subject for so much charlatanry. it is something that any teacher, good or bad, can claim in this country. every italian is of course very proud indeed of the wonderful vocal traditions of italy, the centuries of idealism in search of better and better tone production. there are of course certain statements made by great voice teachers of other days that have been put down and may be read in almost any library in large american cities. but that these things make a vocal method that will suit all cases is too absurd to consider. the good sense of the old italian master would hold such a plan up to ridicule. singing is first of all an art, and an art can not be circumscribed by any set of rules or principles. the artist must, first of all, know a very great deal about all possible phases of the technic of his art and must then adjust himself to the particular problem before him. therefore we might say that the italian method was a method and then again that it was no method. as a matter of fact it is thousands of methods--one for each case or vocal problem. for instance, if i were to sing by the same means that mr. caruso employs it would not at all be the best thing for my voice, yet for mr. caruso it is without question the very best method, or his vocal quality would not be in such superb condition after constant years of use. he is the proof of his own method. i should say that the italian vocal teacher teaches, first of all, with his ears. he listens with the greatest possible intensity to every shade of tone-color until his ideal tone reveals itself. this often requires months and months of patience. the teacher must recognize the vocal deficiencies and work to correct them. for instance, i never had to work with my high tones. they are to-day produced in the same way in which i produced them when i was a boy. fortunately i had teachers who recognized this and let it go at that. possibly the worst kind of a vocal teacher is the one who has some set plan or device or theory which must be followed "willy-nilly" in order that the teacher's theories may be vindicated. with such a teacher no voice is safe. the very best natural voices have to follow some patent plan just because the teacher has been taught in one way, is inexperienced, and has not good sense enough to let nature's perfect work alone. both of my teachers knew that my high tones were all right and the practice was directed toward the lower tones. they worked me for over ten months on scales and sustained tones until the break that came at e flat above the bass clef was welded from the lower tones to the upper tones so that i could sing up or down with no ugly break audible. i was drilled at first upon the vowel "ah." i hear american vocal authorities refer to "ah" as in father. that seems to me too flat a sound, one lacking in real resonance. the vowel used in my case in italy and in hundreds of other cases i have noted is a slightly broader vowel, such as may be found half-way between the vowel "ah" as in father, and the "aw" as in law. it is not a dull sound, yet it is not the sound of "ah" in father. perhaps the word "doff" or the first syllable of boston, when properly pronounced, gives the right impression. i do not know enough of american vocal training to give an intelligent criticism, but i wonder if american vocal teachers give as much attention to special parts of the training as teachers in italy do. i hope they do, as i consider it very necessary. consider the matter of staccato. a good vocal staccato is really a very difficult thing--difficult when it is right; that is, when on the pitch--every time, clear, distinct, and at the same time not hard and stiff. it took me weeks to acquire the right way of singing such a passage as _un di, quando le veneri_, from _traviata_, but those were very profitable weeks-- [illustration: musical notation un di, quan-do le ve-ne-ri il tem-po a-vrà fu-ga-te ] accurate attack in such a passage is by no means easy. anyone can sing it--but _how it is sung_ makes the real difference. the public has very odd ideas about singing. for instance, it would be amazed to learn that _trovatore_ is a much more difficult rôle for me to sing and sing right than either _parsifal_ or _pelleas and melisande_. this largely because of the pure vocal demands and the flowing style. the debussy opera, wonderful as it is, does not begin to make the vocal demands that such a work as _trovatore_ does. when the singer once acquires proficiency, the acquisition of new rôles comes very easy indeed. the main difficulty is the daily need for drilling the voice until it has the same quality every day. it can be done only by incessant attention. here are some of the exercises i do every day with my accompanist: [illustration: musical notation _first time forte second time piano._] david bispham biographical david bispham, in many ways the most distinguished of all american singers, was born in philadelphia january th, . educated at haverford college, pa. at first a highly successful amateur in philadelphia choirs and theatricals, he went to milan in , studying with vannuccini, lamperti and later in london with shakespeare and randegger. his operatic début was made in messager's _basoche_ at the royal english opera house, . in he appeared as kurvenal and met with great favor. his wagnerian rôles have been especially distinctive since the start. from to he sang alternately at the metropolitan in new york and at covent garden in london, and was admittedly one of the foremost attractions of those great companies in the golden era of our operatic past. he was also immensely in demand as a recital and as an oratorio singer and as a dramatic reader. few singers have shown the versatility and mastery of david bispham and few have been so justly entitled to the academic honors ll.d., b.a., and mus. doc., which he had earned. he was the author of numerous articles on singing--the very successful autobiography, "a quaker singer's reminiscences," and the collections, "david bispham's recital album," "the david bispham song book" (for schools). he was also ever a strong champion of the use of the english language in singing. he died in new york city oct. d, . [illustration: david bispham.] the main elements of interpretation david bispham so many things enter into the great problem of interpretation in singing that it is somewhat difficult to state definitely just what the young singer should consider the most important. generally speaking, the following factors are of prime significance: . natural aptitude. . general education and culture. . good musical training. . accurate vocal training. . familiarity with traditions. . freedom of mind. . good health. . life experience. . personal magnetism--one of the most essential,--and . idealism. . _natural aptitude._--you will notice that foremost consideration is given to those broad general qualities without which all the technical and musical training of the world is practically worthless. the success of the art worker in all lines depends first upon the nature of the man or woman. technical training of the highest and best kind is essential, but that which moves great audiences is not alone the mechanics of an art, but rather the broad education, experience, ideals, culture, the human sympathy and magnetism of the artist. . _the value of education and culture._--i cannot emphasize too strongly the value of a good general education and wide culture for the singer. the day has passed when a pretty face or a well-rounded ankle could be mistaken for art on the operatic stage. the public now demands something more than the heroic looking young fellow who comes down to the footlights with the assurance of youth and offers, for real vocal art, a voice fresh but crudely trained, and a bungling interpretation. good education has often been responsible for the phenomenal success of american singers in european opera houses. before the last war, in nearly all of the great operatic centers of the continent, one found americans ranking with the greatest artists in europe. this was a most propitious condition, for it meant that american audiences have been compelled to give the long-delayed recognition to our own singers, and methods of general and vocal education. in most cases the young people of america who aspire to operatic triumphs come from a somewhat better class than singers do in europe. they have had, in most cases, better educational, cultural and home advantages than the average european student. their minds are trained to study intelligently; they are acquainted with the history of the great nations of the world; their tastes are cultivated, and they are filled with the american energy which is one of the marvels of the centuries. more than this, they have had a kind of moral uplift in their homes which is of immense value to them. they have higher ideals in life, they are more businesslike and they keep their purposes very clearly in view. this has created jealousy in some european centers; but it is simply a case of the survival of the fittest, and europe was compelled to bow in recognition of this. vocal art in our own land is no longer to be ignored, for our standards are as high as the highest in the world, and we are educating a race of singers of which any country might be proud. . _good musical training._--a thorough musical training--that is, a training upon some musical instrument such as the piano--is extremely desirable, but not absolutely essential; for the instrument called the human voice can be played on as effectively as a violin. the singer who is convinced of his ability, but who has not had such advantages in early youth, should not be discouraged. he can acquire a thorough knowledge of the essentials later on, but he will have to work very much harder to get his knowledge--as i was obliged to do. artistic ability is by no means a certain quality. the famous art critic, vassari, has called our attention to the fact that one painter who produced wonderful pictures had an exhaustive technical training, another arising at his side who also achieved wonderful results had to secure them by means of much bungling self-study. it is very hard to repress artistic ability. as the bible says: "many waters cannot quench love." so it is with music; if the ability is there, it will come to the front through fire and water. . _accurate and rational vocal training._--i have added the word rational for it seems a necessary term at a time when so much vocal teaching is apparently in the hands of "faddists." there is only one way to sing, that is _the right way_, the way that is founded upon natural conditions. so much has been said in print about breathing, and placing the voice, and resonance, that anything new might seem redundant at this time. the whole thing in a nutshell is simply to make an effort to get the breath under such excellent control that it will obey the will so easily and fluently that the singer is almost unconscious of any means he may employ to this end. this can come only through long practice and careful observation. when the breath is once under proper control the supply must be so adjusted that neither too much nor too little will be applied to the larynx at one time. how to do this can be discovered only by much practice and self-criticism. when the tone has been created it must be reinforced and colored by passing through the mouth and nose, and the latter is a very present help in time of vocal trouble. this leads to a good tone on at least twenty-six steps and half-steps of the scale and with twenty or more vowel sounds--no easy task by any means. all this takes time, but there is no reason why it should take an interminable amount of time. if good results are not forthcoming in from nine months to a year, something is wrong with either the pupil or the teacher. the matter of securing vocal flexibility should not be postponed too long, but may in many instances be taken up in conjunction with the studies in tone production, after the first principles have been learned. thereafter one enters upon the endless and indescribably interesting field of securing a repertoire. only a teacher with wide experience and intimacy with the best in the vocal literature of the world can correctly grade and select pieces suitable to the ever-changing needs of the pupil. no matter how wonderful the flexibility of the voice, no matter how powerful the tones, no matter how extensive the repertoire, the singer will find all this worthless unless he possesses a voice that is susceptible to the expression of every shade of mental and emotional meaning which his intelligence, experience and general culture have revealed to him in the work he is interpreting. at all times his voice must be under control. considered from the mechanical standpoint, the voice resembles the violin, the breath, as it passes over the vocal cords, corresponding to the bow and the resonance chambers corresponding to the resonance chambers in the violin. . _familiarity with vocal traditions._--we come to the matter of the study of the traditional methods of interpreting vocal masterpieces. we must, of course, study these traditions, but we must not be slaves to them. in other words, we must know the past in order to interpret masterpieces properly in the present. we must not, however, sacrifice that great quality--individuality--for slavery to convention. if the former italian method of rendering certain arias was marred by the tremolo of some famous singers, there is no good artistic reason why any one should retain anything so hideous as a tremolo solely because it is traditional. there is a capital story of a young american singer who went to a european opera house with all the characteristic individuality and inquisitiveness of his people. in one opera the stage director told him to go to the back of the stage before singing his principal number and then walk straight down to the footlights and deliver the aria. "why must i go to the back first?" asked the young singer. the director was amazed and blustered: "why? why, because the great rubini did it that way--he created the part; it is the tradition." but the young singer was not satisfied, and finally found an old chorus man who had sung with rubini, and asked him whether the tradition was founded upon a custom of the celebrated singer. "yes," replied the chorus man, "da gretta rubini he granda man. he go waya back; then he comea front; then he sing. ah, grandissimo!" "but," persisted the young american, "_why did he go to the back before he sang?_" "oh!" exclaimed the excited italian; "why he go back? he go to spit!" farcical as this incident may seem, many musical traditions are founded upon customs with quite as little musical or esthetic importance. many traditions are to-day quite as useless as the buttons on the sleeves of our coats, although these very buttons were at one time employed by our forefathers to fasten back the long cuffs. there are, however, certain traditional methods of rendering great masterpieces, and particularly those marked by the florid ornamentation of the days of handel, bach and haydn, which the singer must know. unfortunately, many of these traditions have not been preserved in print in connection with the scores themselves, and the only way in which the young singer can acquire a knowledge of them is through hearing authoritative artists, or from teachers who have had wide and rich experience. . _freedom of mind._--under ideal conditions the mind should be free for music study and for public performance. this is not always possible; and some artists under great mental pressure have done their best work solely because they felt that the only way to bury sorrow and trouble was to thrust themselves into their artistic life and thus forget the pangs of misfortune. the student, however, should do everything possible to have his mind free so that he can give his best to his work. one who is wondering where the next penny is coming from is in a poor condition to impress an audience. nevertheless, if the real ability is there it is bound to triumph over all obstacles. . _good health._--good health is one of the great factors of success in singing. who needs a sounder mind than the artist? good health comes from good, sensible living. the singer must never forget that the instrument he plays upon is a part of his body and that that instrument depends for its musical excellence and general condition upon good health. a $ , stradivarius would be worthless if it were placed in a tub of water; and a larynx that earns for its owner from $ to $ , a night is equally valueless when saturated with the poisons that come from intemperate or unwise living. many of the singer's throat troubles arise from an unhealthy condition of the stomach caused by excesses of diet; but, aside from this, a disease localized in any other part of the body affects the throat sympathetically and makes it difficult for the singer to get good results. recital work, with its long fatiguing journeys on railroads, together with the other inconveniences of travel and the responsibility and strain that come from knowing that one person alone is to hold from , to , people interested for nearly two hours, demands a very sound physical condition. . _life experience._--culture does not come from the schoolroom alone. the refining processes of life are long and varied. as the violin gains in richness of tone and intrinsic value with age, so the singer's life experience has an effect upon the character of his singing. he must have seen life in its broadest sense, to place himself in touch with human sympathy. to do this and still retain the freshness and sweetness of his voice should be his great aim. the singer who lives a narrow and bigoted existence rarely meets with wide popular approval. the public wants to hear in a voice that wonderful something that tells them that it has had opportunities to know and to understand the human side of song, not giving parrot-like versions of some teacher's way of singing, but that the understanding comes from the very center of the mind, heart and soul. this is particularly true in the field of the song recital. most of the renowned recital singers of the last half century, including schumann-heink, sembrich, wüllner, the henschels and others, were considerably past their youth when they made their greatest successes. a painting fresh from the artist's brush is raw, hard and uninteresting, till time, with its damp and dust, night and day, heat and cold, gives the enriching touch which adds so wonderfully to the softness and beauty of a picture. we singers are all living canvases. time, and time only, can give us those shades and tints which reveal living experience. the young artist should hear many of the best singers, actors, and speakers, should read many of the best books, should see many beautiful pictures and wonderful buildings. but most of all, he should know and study many people and learn of their joys and their sorrows, their successes and their failures, their strength and their weaknesses, their loves and their hates. in all art human life is reflected, and this is particularly true in the case of vocal art. for years, in my youth, i never failed to attend all of the musical events of consequence in my native city. this was of immense value to me, since it gave me the means of cultivating my own judgment of what was good or bad in singing. do not fear that you will become _blasé_. if you have the right spirit every musical event you attend will spur you on. you may say that it is expensive to hear great singers, and that you can only attend recitals and the opera occasionally. if this is really the case you still have a means of hearing singers which you should not neglect. i refer to the reproducing machines which have grown to be of such importance in vocal education. phonograph records are nothing short of marvelous, and my earnestness in this cause is shown by the fact that i have long advocated their employment in the public schools, and have placed the matter before the educational authorities of new york. i earnestly urge the music teachers of this country, who are working for the real musical development of our children, to take this matter up in all seriousness. i can assure them that their efforts will bring them rich dividends in increased interest in musical work of their pupils, and the forming of a musical public. but nothing but the classics of song must be used. the time for the scorning of "high-brow" songs is past, and music must help this country to rid itself of the vogue of the "low-brow" and the "tough." let singers strive to become educated ornaments of their lofty profession. . _personal magnetism._--one of the most essential. the subject of "personal magnetism" is ridiculed by some, of course, but rarely laughed at by the artist who has experienced the astonishing phenomena in the opera house or the concert room. like electricity it is intangible, indefinable, indescribable, but makes its existence known by manifestations that are almost uncanny. if personal magnetism does not exist, how then can we account for the fact that one pianist can sit down to the instrument and play a certain piece, and that another pianist could play the same piece with the same technical effect but losing entirely the charm and attractiveness with which the first pianist imbued the composition? personal magnetism does not depend upon personal beauty nor erudition nor even upon perfect health. henry irving and sarah bernhardt were certainly not beautiful, but they held the world of the theater in the palm of their hand. some artists have really been in the last stages of severe illness but have, nevertheless, possessed the divine electric spark to inspire hundreds, as did the hectic chopin when he made his last famous visit to england and scotland. personal magnetism is not a kind of hypnotic influence to be found solely in the concert hall or the theater. most artists possess it to a certain degree. without this subtle and mysterious force, success with the public never comes. . _idealism._--ideals are the flowers of youth. only too often they are not tenderly cared for, and the result is that many who have been on the right track are turned in the direction of failure by materialism. it is absolutely essential for the young singer to have high ideals. direct your efforts to the best in whatever branch of vocal art you determine to undertake. do not for a moment let mediocrity or the substitution of artificial methods enter your vision. holding to your ideal will mean costly sacrifices to you; but all sacrifices are worth while if one can realize one's ideal. the ideal is only another term for heaven to me. if we could all attain to the ideal, we would all be in a kind of earthly paradise. it has always seemed to me that when our lord said "the kingdom of heaven is at hand," he meant that it is at hand for us to possess now; that is the _ideal_ in life. [illustration: dame clara butt.] dame clara butt biographical dame butt was born at southwick, sussex, february , . her first lessons were with d. w. rootham in bristol. in she won a scholarship at the royal college of music where the teacher was j. h. blower. later she studied for short periods with bouhy in paris and etelka gerster in berlin. her début was made as ursula in sullivan's setting of the longfellow poem, _golden legend_. her success was immediate and very great. she became in demand at all of the great english musical festivals and also sang before enormous audiences for years in the great english cities. in she married the noted english baritone r. kennerly rumford and together they have made many tours, including a tour of the world, appearing everywhere with continued success. her voice is one of rich, full contralto quality with such individual characteristics that great english composers have written special works to reveal these great natural gifts. dame butt received her distinction of "dame" from king george in . her happy family life with her children has won her endless admirers among musical people everywhere. success in concert singing dame clara butt health and singing it must be obvious to all aspiring vocal students that splendid good health is well nigh indispensable to the singer. there have been singers, of course, who have had physical afflictions that have made their public appearances extremely painful, but they have succeeded in spite of these unfortunate drawbacks. in fact, if the young singer is ambitious and has that wonderful gift of directing her efforts in the way most likely to bring fortunate results, even physical weakness may be overcome. by this i mean that the singer will work out some plan for bringing her physical condition to the standard that fine singing demands. i believe most emphatically that the right spirit will conquer obstacles that often seem impassable. one might safely say that nine-tenths of the successes in all branches of artistic work are due to the inextinguishable fire that burns in the heart and mind of the art worker and incites him to pass through any ordeal in order to deliver his message to the world. misdirected effort the cruel part of it all is that many aspire to become great singers who can never possibly have their hopes realized. natural selection rather than destiny seems to govern this matter. the ugly caterpillar seems like an unpromising candidate for the brilliant career of the butterfly, and it oftentimes happens that students who seem unpromising to some have just the qualities which, with the right time, instruction and experience, will entitle them to great success. it is the little ant who hopes to grow iridescent wings, and who travels through conservatory after conservatory, hoping to find the magic chrysalis that will do this, who is to be pitied. great success must depend upon special gifts, intellectual as well as vocal. oh, if we only had some instinct, like that possessed by animals, that would enable us to determine accurately in advance the safest road for us to take, the road that will lead us to the best development of our real talents--not those we imagine we may have or those which the flattery of friends have grafted upon us! mr. rumford and i have witnessed so much very hard and very earnest work carried on by students who have no rational basis to hope for success as singers, that we have been placed in the uncomfortable position of advising young singers to seek some other life work. when to begin the eternal question, "at what age shall i commence to study singing?" is always more or less amusing to the experienced singer. if the singer's spirit is in the child, nothing will stop his singing. he will sing from morning until night, and seems to be guided in most cases by an all-providing nature that makes its untutored efforts the very best kind of practice. unless the child is brought into contact with very bad music he is not likely to be injured. children seem to be trying their best to prove the darwinian theory by showing us that they can mimic quite as well as monkeys. the average child comes into the better part of his little store of wisdom through mimicry. naturally if the little vocal student is taken to the vaudeville theatre, where every imaginable vocal law is smashed during a three-hour performance, and if the child observes that the smashing process is followed by the enthusiastic applause of the unthinking audience, it is only reasonable to suppose that the child will discover in this what he believes to be the most approved art of singing. it is evident then that the first thing which the parent of the musical child should consider is that of teaching him to appreciate what is looked upon as good and what is looked upon as bad. although many singers with fine voices have appeared in vaudeville, the others must be regarded as "horrible" examples, and the child should know that they are such. on the other hand, it is quite evident that the more good singing that the child hears in the impressionable years of its youth the greater will be the effect upon the mind which is to direct the child's musical future. this is a branch of the vocalist's education which may begin long before the actual lessons. if it is carefully conducted the teacher should have far less difficulty in starting the child with the actual work. the only possible danger might be that the child's imitative faculty could lead it to extremes of pitch in imitating some singer. even this is hardly more likely to injure it than the shouting and screaming which often accompanies the play of children. the actual time of starting must depend upon the individual. it is never too early for him to start in acquiring his musical knowledge. everything he might learn of music itself, through the study of the piano or any other instrument would all become a part of his capital when he became a singer. those singers are fortunate whose musical knowledge commenced with the cradle and whose first master was that greatest of all teachers, the mother. speaking generally, it seems to be the impression of singing teachers that voice students should not commence the vocal side of their studies until they are from sixteen to seventeen years of age. in this connection, consider my own case. my first public appearance with orchestra was when i was fourteen. it was in bristol, england, and among other things i sang _ora pro nobis_ from gounod's _workers_. i was fortunate in having in my first teacher, d. w. rootham, a man too thoroughly blessed with good british common sense to have any "tricks." he had no fantastic way of doing things, no proprietary methods, that none else in the world was supposed to possess. he listened for the beautiful in my voice and, as his sense of musical appreciation was highly cultivated, he could detect faults, explain them to me and show me how to overcome them by purely natural methods. the principal part of the process was to make me realize mentally just what was wrong and then what was the more artistic way of doing it. letting the voice grow after all, singing is singing, and i am convinced that my master's idea of just letting the voice grow with normal exercise and without excesses in any direction was the best way for me. it was certainly better than hours and hours of theory, interesting to the student of physiology, but often bewildering to the young vocalist. real singing with real music is immeasurably better than ages of conjecture. it appears that some students spend years in learning how they are going to sing at some glorious day in the future, but it never seems to occur to them that in order to sing they must really use their voices. of course, i do not mean to infer that the student must omit the necessary preparatory work. solfeggios, for instance, and scales are extremely useful. concone, tried and true, gives excellent material for all students. but why spend years in dreaming of theories regarding singing when everyone knows that the theory of singing has been the battleground for innumerable talented writers for centuries? even now it is apparently impossible to reconcile all the vocal writers, except in so far as they all modestly admit that they have rediscovered the real old italian school. perhaps they have. but, admitting that an art teacher rediscovered the actual pigments used by leonardo da vinci, rembrandt or raphael, he would have no little task in creating a student who could duplicate _mona lisa_, _the night watch_ or the _sistine madonna_. after leaving rootham, i won the four hundred guinea scholarship at the royal college of music and studied with henry blower. this i followed with a course with bouhy in paris and etelka gerster in berlin. mr. rumford and i both concur in the opinion that it is necessary for the student who would sing in any foreign language to study in the country in which the language is spoken. in no other way can one get the real atmosphere. the preparatory work may be done in the home country, but if one fails to taste of the musical life of the country in which the songs came into being, there seems to be an indefinable absence of the right flavor. i believe in employing the native tongue for songs in recital work. it seems narrow to me to do otherwise. at the same time, i have always been a champion for songs written originally with english texts, and have sung innumerable times with programs made from english lyrics. preparing a repertoire the idea that concert and recital work is not as difficult as operatic work has been pretty well exploded by this time. in fact, it is very much more difficult to sing a simple song well in concert than it is to sing some of the elaborate wagnerian recitatives in which the very complexities of the music make a convenient hiding place for the artist's vocal shortcomings. in concert everything is concentrated upon the singer. convention has ever deprived him of the convenient gestures that give ease to the opera singer. the selection of useful material for concert purposes is immensely difficult. it must have artistic merit, it must have human interest, it must suit the singer, in most cases the piano must be used for accompaniment and the song must not be dependent upon an orchestral accompaniment for its value. it must not be too old, it must not be too far in advance of popular tastes. it is a bad plan to wander indiscriminately about among countless songs, never learning any really well. the student should begin to select numbers with great care, realizing that it is futile to try to do everything. lord bolingbroke, in his essay on the shortness of human life, shows how impossible it is for a man to read more than a mere fraction of a great library though he read regularly every day of his life. it is very much the same with music. the resources are so vast and time is so limited that there is no opportunity to learn everything. far better is it for the vocalist to do a little well than to do much ineffectually. good music well executed meets with very much the same appreciation everywhere. during our latest tour we gave almost the very same programs in america as those we have been giving upon the european continent. the music-loving american public is likely to differ but slightly from that of the great music centers of the old world. music has truly become a universal language. in developing a repertoire the student might look upon the musical public as though it were a huge circle filled with smaller circles, each little circle being a center of interest. one circle might insist upon old english songs, such as the delightful melodies of arne, carey, monroe. another circle might expect the arias of the old italian masters, carissimi, jomelli, sacchini or scarlatti. another circle would want to hear the german lieder of such composers as schumann, schubert, brahms, franz and wolf. still another circle might go away disappointed if they could not hear something of the ultra modern writers, such as strauss, debussy or even that freak of musical cacophony, schoenberg. however diverse may be the individual likings of these smaller circles, all of the members of your audience are united in liking music as a whole. the audience will demand variety in your repertoire but at the same time it will demand certain musical essentials which appeal to all. there is one circle in your audience that i have purposely reserved for separate discussion. that is the great circle of concert goers who are not skilled musicians, who are too frank, too candid, to adopt any of the cant of those social frauds who revel in reger and schoenberg, and just because it might stamp them as real connoisseurs, but who really can't recognize much difference between the _liebestod_ of _tristan und isolde_ and _rule britannia_,--but the music lovers who are too honest to fail to state that they like the _lost chord_ or the lovely folk songs of your american composer, stephen foster. mr. plunkett greene, in his work upon song interpretation, makes no room for the existence of songs of this kind. indeed, he would cast them all into the discard. this seems to me a huge mistake. surely we can not say that music is a monopoly of the few who have schooled their ears to enjoy outlandish disonances with delight. music is perhaps the most universal of all the arts and with the gradual evolution of those who love it, a natural audience is provided for music of the more complicated sort. we learn to like our musical caviar with surprising rapidity. it was only yesterday that we were objecting to the delightful piano pieces of debussy, who can generate an atmosphere with a single chord just as murillo could inspire an emotion with a stroke of the brush. it is not safe to say that you do not like things in this way. i think that even schoenberg is trying to be true to his muse. we must remember that haydn, beethoven, wagner and brahms passed through the fire of criticism in their day. the more breadth a singer puts into her work the more likely is she to reap success. time only can produce the accomplished artist. the best is to find a joy in your work and think of nothing but large success. if you have the gift, triumph will be yours. [illustration: giuseppe campanari. © dupont.] giuseppe campanari biographical giuseppe campanari was born at venice, italy, nov. th, . his parents were not particularly musical but were very anxious for the boy to become a musician. at the age of nine he commenced to study the piano and later he entered the conservatory of milan, making his principal instrument the violoncello. upon his graduation he secured a position in the 'cello section of the orchestra at "la scala." here for years he heard the greatest singers and the greatest operas, gaining a musical insight into the works through an understanding of the scores which has seldom if ever been possessed by a great opera singer. his first appearance as singer was at the teatro dal verme in milan. owing to voice strain he was obliged to give up singing and in the interim he took a position as a 'cellist in the boston symphony orchestra, remaining with that organization some years. he then made appearances with the emma juch opera company, the heinrichs opera company, and eventually at the metropolitan opera company in new york, where he achieved his greatest triumphs as leading baritone. mr. campanari long since became an american citizen and has devoted his attention to teaching for years. his conference which follows is particularly interesting, as from the vocal standpoint he is almost entirely self taught. the value of self-study in voice training giuseppe campanari so much has been written upon the futility of applying one method to all cases in vocal instruction that it seems useless for me to say anything that would add to the volume of testimony against the custom of trying to teach all pupils in the same manner. no one man ever has had, has, or ever will have, a "method" superior to all others, for the very simple reason that the means one vocalist might employ to reach artistic success would be quite different from that which another singer, with an entirely different voice, different throat and different intellect, would be obliged to employ. one of the great laws of nature is the law of variation; that is, no two children of any parents are ever exactly alike. even in the case of twins there is often a great variation. the great english philosopher, darwin, made much of this principle. it is one which all voice students and teachers should consider, for although there are, from the nature of things, many foundation principles which must remain the same in all cases, the differences in individual cases are sufficient to demand the greatest keenness of observation, the widest experience and an inexhaustible supply of patience upon the part of the teacher. please understand, i am not decrying the use of books of exercises such as those of concone, marchesi, regine, panofka and others. such books are necessary. i have used these and others in teaching, suiting the book to the individual case. the pupil needs material of this kind, and it should be chosen with the greatest care and consideration not only of the pupil's voice, but of his intellectual capacity and musical experience. these books should not be considered "methods." they are the common property of all teachers, and most teachers make use of them. my understanding of a "method" is a set of hard and fast rules, usually emanating from the mind of some one person who has the effrontery to pass them off upon an all too gullible public as the one road to a vocal parnassus. only the singer with years of experience can realize how ridiculous this course is and how large is the percentage of failure of the pupils of teachers whose sole claim to fame is that they teach the---- method. proud as i am of the glorious past of vocal art in the country of my birth, i cannot help being amused and at the same time somewhat irritated when i think of the many palpable frauds that are classed under the head of the "real old italian method" by inexperienced teachers. we cannot depend upon the past in all cases to meet present conditions. the singers of the olden day in italy were doubtless great, because they possessed naturally fine voices and used them in an unaffected, natural manner. in addition to this they were born speaking a tongue favorable to beautiful singing, led simple lives and had opportunities for hearing the great operas and the great singers unexcelled by those of any other european country. that they became great through the practice of any set of rules or methods is inconceivable. there were great teachers in olden italy, very great teachers, and some of them made notes upon the means they employed, but i cannot believe that if these teachers were living to-day they would insist upon their ideas being applied to each and every individual case in the same identical manner. the value of opera this leads us to the subject at hand. the students in italy in the past have had advantages for self-study that were of greatest importance. on all sides good singing and great singing might be heard conveniently and economically. opera was and is one of the great national amusements of italy. opera houses may be found in all of the larger cities and in most of the smaller ones. the prices of admission are, as a rule, very low. the result is that the boys in the street are often remarkably familiar with some of the best works. indeed, it would not be extravagant to say that they were quite as familiar with these musical masterpieces as some of the residents of america are with the melodramatic doings of jesse james or the "queen of chinatown." thus it is that the average italian boy with a fair education and quick powers of observation reaches his majority with a taste for singing trained by many opportunities to hear great singers. they have had the best vocal instruction in the world, providing, of course, they have exercised their powers of judgment. thus it is that it happens that such a singer as caruso, certainly one of the greatest tenors of all time, could be accidentally heard by a manager while singing and receive an offer for an engagement upon the spot. caruso's present art, of course, is the result of much training that would fall under the head of "coaching," together with his splendid experience upon the operatic stage itself. i trust that i have not by this time given the reader of this page the impression that teachers are unnecessary. this is by no means the case. a good teacher is extremely desirable. if you have the good fortune to fall into the hands of a careful, experienced, intelligent teacher, much may be accomplished; but the teacher is by no means all that is required. the teacher should be judged by his pupils, and by nothing else. no matter what he may claim, it is invariably the results of his work (the pupil's) which must determine his value. teachers come to me with wonderful theories and all imaginable kinds of methods. i always say to them: "show me a good pupil who has been trained by your methods and i will say that you are a good teacher." before our national elections i am asked, "which one of the candidates do you believe will make the best president?" i always reply, "wait four years and i will pass my opinion upon the ability of the candidate the people select." in other words, "the proof of the pudding is in the eating." singers not born, but made we often hear the trite expression, "singers are born, not made." this, to my mind, is by no means the case. one may be born with the talent and deep love for music, and one may be born with the physical qualifications which lead to the development of a beautiful voice, but the singer is something far more than this. given a good voice and the love for his music, the singer's work is only begun. he is at the outstart of a road which is beset with all imaginable kinds of obstacles. in my own case i was extremely ambitious to be a singer. night after night i played 'cello in the orchestra at la scala, in milan, always wishing and praying that i might some day be one of the actors in the wonderful world behind the footlights. i listened to the famous singers in the great opera house with the minutest attention, making mental notes of their manner of placing their voices--their method of interpretation, their stage business, and everything that i thought might be of any possible use to me in the career of the singer, which was dearest to my heart. i endeavored to employ all the common sense and good judgment i possessed to determine what was musically and vocally good or otherwise. i was fortunate in having the training of the musician, and also in having the invaluable advantage of becoming acquainted with the orchestral scores of the famous operas. finally the long-awaited opportunity came and i made my début at the teatro dal verme, in milan. i had had no real vocal instruction in the commonly accepted sense of the term; but i had really had a kind of instruction that was of inestimable value. not given to all to study successfully without a teacher success brought with it its disadvantages. i foolishly strained my voice through overwork. but this did not discourage me. i realized that many of the greatest singers the world has ever known were among those who had met with disastrous failure at some time in their careers. i came to america and played the violoncello in the boston symphony orchestra. all the time i was practicing with the greatest care and with the sole object of restoring my voice. finally it came back better than ever and i sang for maurice grau, the impresario of the metropolitan opera house, in new york. he engaged me and i sang continuously at the metropolitan for several years. notwithstanding this varied experience, i will seek to learn, and to learn by practical example, not theory. the only opera school in the world is the opera house itself. no school ever "made" a great singer or a great artist. the most they have done has been to lay the foundation. the making of the artist comes later. in order to do without instruction one must be very peculiarly constituted. one must be possessed of the pedagogical faculty to a marked degree. one must have within oneself those qualities for observing and detecting the right means leading to an artistic end which every good teacher possesses. in other words, one must be both teacher and pupil. this is a rare combination, since the power to teach, to impart instruction, is one that is given to very few. it is far better to study alone or not at all than with a poor teacher. the teacher's responsibility, particularly in the case of vocal students, is very great. so very much depends upon it. a poor teacher can do incalculable damage. by poor teachers i refer particularly to those who are carried away by idiotic theories and quack methods. we learn to sing by singing and not by carrying bricks upon our chest or other idiotic antics. consequently i say that it is better to go all through life with a natural or "green" voice than to undergo the vocal torture that is sometimes palmed off upon the public as voice teaching. at best, all the greatest living teacher can do is to put the artist upon the right track and this in itself is responsibility enough for one man or one woman to assume. singers make their own methods as i have already said, most every singer makes a method unto himself. it is all the same in the end. the chinese may, for instance, have one name for god, the persians another, the mohammedans another, and the people of christian lands another. but the god principle and the worship principle are the same with all. it is very similar in singing. the means that apply to my own case may apparently be different from those of another, but we are all seeking to produce beautiful tones and interpret the meaning of the composer properly. one thing, however, the student should seek to possess above all things, and this is a thorough foundation training in music itself. this can not begin too early. in my own home we have always had music. my children have always heard singing and playing and consequently they become critical at a very early age. i can not help repeating my advice to students who hope to find a vocal education in books or by the even more ridiculous correspondence method. books may set one's mental machinery in motion and incite one to observe singers more closely, but teach they can not and never can. the sound-reproducing machines are of assistance in helping the student to understand the breathing, phrasing, etc., but there is nothing really to take the place of the living singer who can illustrate with his voice the niceties of placing and _timbre_. my advice to the voice students of america is to hear great singers. hear them as many times as possible and consider the money invested as well placed as any you might spend in vocal instruction. the golden magnet, as well as the opportunities in other ways offered artists in america, has attracted the greatest singers of our time to this country. it is no longer necessary to go abroad to listen to great singers. in no country of the world is opera given with more lavish expenditure of money than in america. the great singers are now by no means confining their efforts to the large eastern cities. many of them make regular tours of the country, and students in all parts of this land are offered splendid opportunities for self-help through the means of concerts and musical festivals. after all, the most important thing for any singer is the development of the critical sense. blind imitation is, of course, bad, but how is the student to progress unless he has had an opportunity to hear the best singers of the day? in my youth i heard continually such artists as la salle, gayarre, patti, de reszke and others. how could i help profiting by such excellent experiences? great voices are rare one may be sure that in these days few, if any, great voices go undiscovered. a remarkable natural voice is so rare that some one is sure to notice it and bring it to the attention of musicians. the trouble is that so many people are so painfully deluded regarding their voices. i have had them come to me with voices that are obviously execrable and still remain unconvinced when i have told them what seemed to me the truth. this business of hearing would-be singers is an unprofitable and an uncomfortable one; and most artists try to avoid the ordeal, although they are always very glad to encourage real talent. most young singers, however, have little more than the bare ambition to sing, coupled with what can only be described by the american term, "a swelled head." someone has told them that they are wonderfully gifted, and persons of this kind are most always ready to swallow flattery indiscriminately. almost everyone, apparently, wants to go into opera nowadays. to singers who have not any chance whatever i have only to say that the sooner this is discovered the better. far better put your money in bank and let compound interest do what your voice can not. enrico caruso biographical enrico caruso was born at naples, february th, . his fondness for music dates from his earliest childhood; and he spent much of his spare money in attending the opera at san carlo and hearing the foremost singers of his time in many of the rôles in which he appeared later on. his actual study, however, did not start until he was eighteen, when he came under the tuition of guglielmo vergine. in he made his début at the teatro cimarosa in _caserta_. his first appearances drew comparatively little attention to his work and his future greatness was hardly suspected by many of those who heard him. however, by dint of long application to his art he gained more and more recognition. in he made his début in london. the following year he came to new york, where the world's greatest singers had found an el dorado for nearly a quarter of a century. there he was at once proclaimed the greatest of all tenors and from that time his success was undeviating. indeed his voice was so wonderful and so individual that it is difficult to compare him with any of his great predecessors; tamagno, campanini, de reszke and others. in europe and in america he was welcomed with acclaim and the records of his voice are to be found in thousands of homes of music lovers who have never come in touch with him in any other way. signor caruso had a remarkable talent for drawing and for sculpture. his death, august d, , ended the career of the greatest male singer of history. [illustration: enrico caruso.] italy, the home of song enrico caruso opera and the public in italy anyone who has traveled in italy must have noticed the interest that is manifested at the opening of the opera season. this does not apply only to the people with means and advanced culture but also to what might be called the general public. in addition to the upper classes, the same class of people in america who would show the wildest enthusiasm over your popular sport, base-ball, would be similarly eager to attend the leading operatic performances in italy. the opening of the opera is accompanied by an indescribable fervor. it is "in the air." the whole community seems to breathe opera. the children know the leading melodies, and often discuss the features of the performances as they hear their parents tell about them, just as the american small boy retails his father's opinions upon the political struggles of the day or upon the last ball game. it should not be thought that this does not mean a sacrifice to the masses, for opera is, in a sense, more expensive in italy than in america; that is, it is more expensive by comparison in most parts of the country. it should be remembered that monetary values in italy are entirely different from those in america. the average italian of moderate means looks upon a lira as a coin far more valuable than its equivalent of twenty cents in united states currency. his income is likely to be limited, and he must spend it with care and wisdom. again, in the great operatic centers, such as milan, naples or rome, the prices are invariably adjusted to the importance of the production. in first-class productions the prices are often very high from the italian standpoint. for instance, at la scala in milan, when an exceptionally fine performance is given with really great singers, the prices for orchestra chairs may run as high as thirty lira or six dollars a seat. even to the wealthy italian this amount seems the same as a much larger amount in america. to give opera in italy with the same spectacular effects, the same casts composed almost exclusively of very renowned artists, the same _mise en scene_, etc., would require a price of admission really higher than in america. as a matter of fact, there is no place in the world where such a great number of performances, with so many world-renowned singers, are given as at the metropolitan opera house in new york. there is no necessity for any one to make a special trip to europe to hear excellent performances in these days. of course such a trip would be interesting, as the performances given in many european centers are wonderfully fine, and they would be interesting to hear if only from the standpoint of comparing them with those given at the metropolitan. however, the most eminent singers of the world come here constantly, and the performances are directed by the ablest men obtainable, and i am at loss to see why america should not be extremely proud of her operatic advantages. in addition to this the public manifests a most intelligent appreciation of the best in music. it is very agreeable to sing in america, as one is sure that when he does well the public will respond at once. italian, the language of music perhaps the fact that in italy the audiences may understand the performances better because of their knowledge of their native language may add to the pleasure of opera-going. this, however, is a question, except in the case of some of the more modern works. the older opera librettos left much to be desired from the dramatic and poetic standpoints. italian after all is the language of music. in fact it is music in itself when properly spoken. note that i say "when properly spoken." american girls go to italy to study, and of course desire to acquire a knowledge of the language itself, for they have heard that it is beneficial in singing. they get a mere smattering, and do not make any attempt to secure a perfect accent. the result is about as funny as the efforts of the comedians who imitate german emigrants on the american stage. if you start the study of italian, persist until you have really mastered the language. in doing this your ear will get such a drill and such a series of exercises as it has never had before. you will have to listen to the vowel sounds as you have never listened. this is necessary because in order to understand the grammar of the language you must hear the final vowel in each word and you must hear the consonants distinctly. there is another peculiar thing about italian. if the student who has always studied and sung in english, german or french or russian, attempts to sing in italian, he is really turning a brilliant searchlight upon his own vocal ability. if he has any faults which have been concealed in his singing in his own language, they will be discovered at once the moment he commences to study in italian. i do not know whether this is because the italian of culture has a higher standard of diction in the enunciation of the vowel sounds, or whether the sounds themselves are so pure and smooth that they expose the deficiencies, but it is nevertheless the case. the american girl who studies italian for six months and then hopes to sing in that language in a manner not likely to disturb the sense of the ridiculous is deceiving herself. it takes years to acquire fluency in a language. audiences the same the world around audiences are as sensitive as individuals. italy is known as "the home of the opera"; but i find that, as far as manifesting enthusiasm goes, the world is getting pretty much the same. if the public is pleased, it applauds no matter whether it be in vienna, paris, rome, buenos aires, new york, or oshkosh. an artist feels his bond with his audience very quickly. he knows whether his auditors are delighted, whether they are merely interested or whether they are indifferent a few seconds after he has been upon the stage. i can judge my own work at once by the attitude of the audience. no artist sings exactly alike on two successive nights. that would be impossible. although every sincere artist tries to do his best at all times, there are, nevertheless, occasions when one sings better than at others. if i sing particularly well the audience is particularly enthusiastic; if i am not feeling well and my singing indicates it, the audience will let me know at once by not being quite so enthusiastic. it is a barometer which is almost unfailing. this is also an important thing for the young singer to consider. audiences judge by real worth and not by reputation. reputation may attract money to the box office, but once the people are inside the opera house the artist must really please them or suffer. young singers should not be led to think that anything but real worth is of any lasting value. if the audience does not respond, do not blame the audience. it would respond if you could sing so beautifully that you could compel a response that you know should follow real artistic achievement. don't blame your teacher or your lack of practice or anything or anybody but yourself. the verdict of the audience is better than the examination of a hundred so-called experts. there is something about an audience that makes it seem like a great human individual, whether in naples or in san francisco. if you touch the heart or please the sense of beauty, the appetite for lovely music--common to all mankind--the audience is yours, be it italian, french, german or american. operatic preparation in italy the american student with a really good voice and a really fine vocal and musical training, would have more opportunities for engagements in the smaller italian opera houses, for the simple reason that there are more of these opera houses and more of these opera companies. bear in mind, however, that opera in italy depends to a large extent upon the standing of the artists engaged to put on the opera. in some cities of the smaller size the municipality makes an appropriation, which serves as a guarantee or subsidy. an impresario is informed what operas the community desires and what singers. he tries to comply with the demand. often the city is very small and the demand very slightly indicated in real money. as a result the performances are comparatively mediocre. the american student sometimes fails to secure engagements with the big companies and tries to gain experience in these small companies. sometimes he succeeds, but he should remember before undertaking this work that many native italian singers with realty fine voices are looking for similar opportunities and that only a very few stand any chance of reaching really noteworthy success. opera will always be expensive he should, of course, endeavor to seek engagements with the big companies if his voice and ability will warrant it. where the most money is, there will be the salaried artists and the finest operatic spectacle. that is axiomatic. opera is expensive and will always be expensive. the supply of unusual voices has always been limited and the services of their possessors have always commanded a high reward. this is based upon an economic law which applies to all things in life. the young singer should realize that, unless he can rise to the very top of his profession, he will be compelled to enlist in a veritable army of singers with little talent and less opportunity. one thing exists in italy which is very greatly missed in america. even in small companies in italy a great deal of time is spent in rehearsals. in america rehearsals are tremendously expensive and sometimes first performances have suffered thereby. in fact, i doubt whether the public realizes what a very expensive thing opera is. the public has little opportunity to look behind the scenes. it sees only the finished performance, which runs smoothly only when a tremendous amount of mental, physical and financial oil has been poured upon the machinery. i often hear men say here in new york, "i had to pay fifty dollars for my seat to-night." that is absurd--the money is going to speculators instead of into the rightful channels. this money is simply lost as far as doing any service whatever to art is concerned. it does not go into the opera house treasury to make for better performances, but simply into the hands of some fellow who had been clever enough to deprive the public of its just opportunity to purchase seats. the public seems to have money enough to pay an outrageous amount for seats when necessary. would it not be better to do away with the speculator at the door and pay say $ . for a seat that now costs $ . ? this would mean more rehearsals and better opera and no money donated to the undeserving horde at the portals of the temple. the student's preparation i am told that many people in america have the impression that my vocal ability is kind of a "god-given" gift; that is, something that has come to me without effort. this is so very absurd that i can hardly believe that sensible people would give it a moment's credence. every voice is in a sense the result of a development, and this is particularly so in my own case. the marble that comes from the quarries of carrara may be very beautiful and white and flawless, but it does not shape itself into a work of art without the hand, the heart, and the intellect of the sculptor. just to show how utterly ridiculous this popular opinion really is, let me cite the fact that at the age of fifteen everybody who heard me sing pronounced me a bass. when i went to vergine i studied hard for four years. during the first three years the work was for the most part moulding and shaping the voice. then i studied repertoire for one year and made my début. even with the experience i had had at that time it was unreasonable to expect great success at once. i kept working hard and worked for at least seven years more before any really mentionable success came to me. all the time i had one thing on my mind and that was never to let a day pass without seeing some improvement in my voice. the discouragements were frequent and bitter; but i kept on working and waiting until my long awaited opportunities came in london and in new york. the great thing is, not to stop. do not think that, because these great cities gave me a flattering reception, my work ceased. quite on the contrary, i kept on working and am working still. every time i go upon the stage i am endeavoring to discover something that will make my art more worthy of public acceptance. every act of each opera is a new lesson. different rÔles it is difficult to invest a rôle with individuality. i have no favorite rôles. i have avoided this, because the moment one adopts a favorite rôle he becomes a specialist and ceases to be an artist. the artist does all rôles equally well. i have had the unique experience of creating many rôles in operas such as _fedora_, _adrienne_, _germania_, _girl of the golden west_, _maschera_. this is a splendid experience, as it always taxes the inventive faculties of the singing actor. this is particularly the case in the italian opera of the newer composers, or rather the composers who have worked in italy since the reformation of wagner. whatever may be said, the greatest influence in modern italian opera is wagner. even the great verdi was induced to change his methods in _aïda_, _otello_, and _falstaff_--all representing a much higher art than his earlier operas. however, wagner did nothing to rob italy of its natural gift of melody, even though he did institute a reform. he also did not influence such modern composers as puccini, mascagni, and leoncavallo to the extent of marring their native originality and fertility. [illustration: mme. julia claussen.] mme. julia claussen biographical mme. julia claussen was born at stockholm, sweden, the land of jenny lind and nilsson. her voice is a rich, flexible mezzo-soprano, with a range that has enabled her to assume some contralto rôles with more success than the average so-called contralto. in her childhood she studied piano, but did not undertake the serious study of voice until she was eighteen, when she became a student at the royal academy of music, under professor lejdstrom (studying harmony and theory under the famous swedish composer sjogren). her début was made at the royal opera, at the age of twenty-two, in _la favorita_, singing the rôle in swedish. later she went to berlin, where she was coached in german opera by professor friedrich at the royal high school of music. her american début was made in , in chicago, where she made an immediate success in such rôles as _ortrud_, _brünnhilde_ and _carmen_. she was then engaged at covent garden and later sang at the champs elysée theatre, under nikisch, in paris. for two years she appeared at the metropolitan. she has received the rare distinction of being awarded the jenny lind medal from her own government and also of being admitted to the royal academy of sweden, the youngest member ever elected to that august scientific and artistic body. she has also been decorated by king gustavus v of sweden with literis et artibus. in america she has made an immense success as a concert singer. modern roads to vocal success mme. julia claussen why sweden produces so many singers the question, "why does sweden produce so many singers?" is often asked me. first it is a matter of climate, then a matter of physique, and lastly, because the swedish children do far more singing than any one finds in many other countries. the air in sweden is very rarefied, clear and exhilarating. owing to frugal living and abundant systematic exercise, the people become very robust. this is not a matter of one generation or so, but goes back for centuries. the swedes are a strong, energetic, thorough race; and the same attributes of industry and precision which have made them famous in science are applied to the study of music. the swedish child is made to understand that singing is a needful, serious part of his life. his musical training begins very early in the schools, with a definite scheme. all schools have competent, experienced teachers of singing. in my childhood another factor played a very important part. there was never the endless round of attractions, toys, parties, theatres and pastimes (to say nothing of the all-consuming movies). life was more tranquil and therefore the pursuit of good music was far more enjoyable. american life moves at aeroplane speed. the poor little children hardly have time to breathe, let alone time to study music. ragtime is the musical symptom of this american craving for speed and incessant excitement. in a blare and confusion of noises, like bedlam broken loose, what chance has a child to develop good taste? it is admittedly fascinating at times; but is without rhyme, reason or order. i never permit my children to pollute my piano with it. they may have it on the talking machine, but they must not be accomplices in making it. of course, things have changed in sweden, too; and american ragtime, always contagious, has now infected all europe. this makes the music teacher's task in this day far more difficult than formerly. i hear my daughters practicing, and now and then they seem to be putting a dash of ragtime into bach. if i stop them i find that "bach is too slow, i don't like bach!" this is almost like saying, "i don't like rubens, van dyke or millet; please, teacher, give me mutt and jeff or the katzenjammer kids!" american children need to be constantly taught to reverence the great creators of the land. why, jenny lind is looked upon as a great national heroine in sweden, much as one might regard george washington in america. before america can go about musical educational work properly, the teachers must inculcate this spirit, a proper appreciation of what is really beautiful, instead of a kind of wild, mob-like orgy of blare, bang, smash and shriek which so many have come to know as ragtime and jazz. self-criticism if one should ask me what is the first consideration in becoming a success as a singer, i should say the ability to criticise one's self. in my own case i had a very competent musician as a teacher. he told me that my voice was naturally placed and did very little to help place it according to his own ideas. perhaps that was well for me, because i knew myself what i was about. he used to say, "that sounds beautiful," but all the time i knew that it sounded terrible. it was then that i learned that my ear must be my best teacher. my teacher, for instance, told me that i would never be able to trill. this was very disheartening; but he really believed, according to his conservative knowledge, that i should never succeed in getting the necessary flexibility. by chance i happened to meet a celebrated swedish singer, mme. Östberg, of the old school. i communicated to her the discouraging news that i could never hope to trill. "nonsense, my dear," she said, "someone told me that too, but i determined that i was going to learn. i did not know how to go about it exactly, but i knew that with the proper patience and will-power i would succeed. therefore i worked up to three o'clock one morning, and before i went to bed i was able to trill." i decided to take mme. Östberg's advice, and i practiced for several days until i knew that i could trill, and then i went back to my teacher and showed him what i could do. he had to admit it was a good trill, and he couldn't understand how i had so successfully disproved his theories by accomplishing it. it was then that i learned that the singer can do almost anything within the limits of the voice, if one will only work hard enough. work is the great producer, and there is no substitute for it. do not think that i am ungrateful to my teacher. he gave me a splendid musical drilling in all the standard solfeggios, in which he was most precise; and in later years i said to him, "i am not grateful to you for making my voice, but because you did not spoil it." after having sung a great deal and thought introspectively a great deal about the voice, one naturally begins to form a kind of philosophy regarding it. of course, breathing exercises are the basis of all good singing methods, but it seems to me that singing teachers ask many of their pupils to do many queer impractical things in breathing, things that "don't work" when the singer is obliged to stand up before a big audience and make everyone hear without straining. if i were to teach a young girl right at this moment i would simply ask her to take a deep breath and note the expansion at the waist just above the diaphragm. then i would ask her to say as many words as possible upon that breath, at the same time having the muscles adjacent to the diaphragm to support the breath; that is, to sustain it and not collapse or try to push it up. the trick is to get the most tone, not with the most breath but with the least breath, and especially the very least possible strain at the throat, which must be kept in a floating, gossamer-like condition all the time. i see girls, who have been to expensive teachers, doing all sorts of wonderful calisthenics with the diaphragm, things that god certainly did not intend us to do in learning to speak and to sing. any attempt to draw in the front walls of the abdomen or the intercostal muscles during singing must put a kind of pneumatic pressure upon the breath stream, which is sure to constrict the throat. therefore, in my own singing, i note the opposite effect. that is, there is rather a sensation of expansion instead of contraction during the process of expiration. this soon becomes very comfortable, relieves the throat of strain, relieves the tones of breathiness or all idea of forcing. there is none of the ugly heaving of the chest or shoulders; the body is in repose, and the singer has a firm grip upon the tone in the right way. the muscles of the front wall of the abdomen and the muscles between the lower ribs become very strong and equal to any strain, while the throat is free. in the emission of the actual tone itself i would advise the sensation of inhaling at first. the beginner should blow out the tone. usually instead of having a lovely floating character, with the impression of control, the tone starts with being forced, and it always remains so. the singer oversings and has nothing in reserve. when i am singing i feel as though the farther away from the throat, the deeper down i can control the breath stream, the better and freer the tone becomes. furthermore, i can sing the long, difficult wagnerian rôles, with their tremendous demands upon the vocal organs, without the least sensation of fatigue. some singers, after such performances, are "all in." no wonder they lose their voices when they should be in their prime. for me the most difficult vowel is "ah." the throat then is most open and the breath stream most difficult to control properly. therefore i make it a habit to begin my practice with "oo, oh, ah, ay, ee" in succession. i never start with sustained tones. this would give my throat time to stiffen. i employ quick, soft scales, always remembering the basic principle of breath control i have mentioned, and always as though inhaling. this is an example of what i mean. to avoid shrillness on the upper tone i take the highest note with oo and descend with oo. [illustration: musical notation: ex. ] the same thought applied to an arpeggio would be: [illustration: musical notation: ex. ] these i take within comfortable limits of my voice, always remembering that the least strain is a backward step. these exercises are taken through all possible keys. there can never be too much practice of a scale or arpeggio exercise. many singers, i know, who wonder why they do not succeed, cannot do a good scale, the very first thing they should be able to do. every one should be like perfect pearls on a thread. america's fatal ambition one of the great troubles in america is the irrepressible ambition of both teachers and pupils. europe is also not untinged with this. teachers want to show results. some teachers, i am told, start in with songs at the first or second lesson, with the sad knowledge that if they do not do this they may lose the pupil to some teacher who will peddle out songs. after four or five months i was given an operatic aria; and, of course, i sang it. a year of scales, exercises and solfeggios would have been far more time-saving. the pupils have too much to say about their education in this way. the teacher should be competent and then decide all such questions. american girls do not want this. they expect to step from vocal ignorance to a repertoire over night. when you study voice, you should study not for two years, but realize you will never stop studying, if you wish to keep your voice. like any others, without exercise, the singing muscles grow weak and inefficient. there are so many, many things to learn. of course, my whole training was that of the opera singer, and i was schooled principally in the wagnerian rôles. with the coming of the war the prejudice against the greatest anti-imperialist (with the possible exception of beethoven) which music ever has known--the immortal wagner--became so strong that not until now has the demand for his operas become so great that they are being resumed with wonderful success. therefore, with the exception of a few italian and french rôles, my operatic repertoire went begging. it was necessary for me to enter the concert field, as the management of the opera company with which i had contracts secured such engagements for me. it was like starting life anew. there is very little opportunity to show one's individuality in opera. one must play the rôle. therefore i had to learn a repertoire of songs, every one of which required different treatment and different individuality. with eighteen members on the program, the singer has a musical, mental and vocal task which devolves entirely upon herself without the aid of chorus, co-singers, orchestra, costumes, scenery and the glamour of the footlights. it was with the greatest delight that i could fulfill the demands of the concert platform. american musical taste is very exacting. the audiences use their imagination all the time, and like romantic songs with an atmospheric background, which accounts for my great success with songs of such type as lieurance's _by the waters of minnetonka_. one of the greatest tasks i ever have had is that of singing my rôles in many different languages. i learned some of them first in swedish, then in italian, then in french, then in german, then in english; as i am obliged to re-learn my wagnerian rôles now. the road to success in voice study, like the road to success in everything else, has one compass which should be a consistent guide, and that is common sense. avoid extremes; hold fast to your ideals; have faith in your possibilities, and work! work!! work!!! [illustration: charles dalmores in massenet's herodiade. © mishkin.] charles dalmores biographical m. charles dalmores was born at nancy, france, december st, . his musical education was received at the nancy conservatoire under professor dauphin, and it was his intention to become a specialist in french horn. he also played the 'cello. when he applied to the paris conservatoire he was refused admission to the singing course because "he was too good a musician to waste his time with singing." he became professor of french horn at the lyons conservatory; but his love for opera led him to study by himself until he made his début at rouen in . he then sang at the theatre de la monnaie in brussels, covent garden, bayreuth, new york, and chicago, with ever-increasing success. dalmores is a dramatic tenor, and his musicianship has enabled him to take extremely difficult rôles of the modern type and achieve real artistic triumphs. he is one of the finest examples of the self-trained vocalist. self-help in voice study charles dalmores it is always a pleasure to talk upon self-help and not self-study, because i believe most implicitly in the former and very much doubt the efficacy of the latter in actual voice study. the voice, of all things, demands the assistance of a good teacher, although in the end the results all come from within and not from without. that is, the voice is an organ of expression; and what we make of it depends upon our own thought a thousand times more than what we take in from the outside. it is the teacher who stimulates the right kind of thinking who is the best teacher. the teacher who seeks to make his pupils parrots rarely meets with success. my whole career is an illustration of this, and when i think of the apparently insurmountable obstacles over which i have been compelled to climb i cannot help feeling that the relation of a few of my own experiences in the way of self-help could not fail to be beneficial. at the paris conservatory i was born at nancy on the st of december, . i gave evidences of having musical talent and my musical instruction commenced at the age of six years. i studied first at the conservatory at nancy, intending to make a specialty of the violin. then i had the misfortune of breaking my arm. it was decided thereafter that i had better study the french horn. this i did with much success and attribute my control of the breath at this day very largely to my elementary struggles with that most difficult of instruments. at the age of fourteen i played the second horn at nancy. finally, i went, with a purse made up by some citizens of my home town, to enter the great conservatory at paris. there i studied very hard and succeeded in winning my goal in the way of receiving the first prize for playing the french horn. for a time i played under colonne, and between the ages of seventeen and twenty-three in paris i played with the lamoureaux orchestra. all this time i had my heart set upon becoming a singer and paid particular attention to all of the wonderful orchestral works we rehearsed. the very mention of the fact that i desired to become a singer was met with huge ridicule by my friends, who evidently thought that it was a form of fanaticism. for a time i studied the 'cello and managed to acquire a very creditable technic upon that instrument. a discouraging prospect notwithstanding the success i had with the two instruments, i was confronted with the fact that i had before me the life of a poor musician. my salary was low, and there were few, if any, opportunities to increase it outside of my regular work with the orchestra. i was told that i had great talent, but this never had the effect of swelling my pocketbook. in my military service i played in the band of an infantry regiment; and when i told my companions that i aspired to be a great singer some day they greeted my declaration with howls of laughter, and pointed out the fact that i was already along in years and had an established profession. at the sedate age of twenty-three i was surprised to find myself appointed professor of french horn at the conservatory of lyons. lyons is the second city of france from the standpoint of population. it is a busy manufacturing center, but is rich in architectural, natural and historical interest; and the position had its advantages, although it was away from the great french center, paris. the opera at nancy was exceedingly good, and i had an opportunity to go often. singing and the opera were my life. my father had been manager at nancy and i had made my first acquaintance with the stage as one of the boys in _carmen_. a test that failed i have omitted to say that at paris i tried to enter the classes for singing. my voice was apparently liked, but i was refused admission upon the basis that i was too good a musician to waste my time in becoming an inferior singer. goodness gracious! where is musicianship needed more than in the case of the singer? this amused me, and i resolved to bide my time. i played in opera orchestras whenever i had a chance, and thus became acquainted with the famous rôles. one eye was on the music and the other was on the stage. during the rests i dreamt of the time when i might become a singer like those over the footlights. where there is a will there is usually a way. i taught solfeggio as well as french horn in the lyons conservatory. i devised all sorts of "home-made" exercises to improve my voice as i thought best. some may have done me good, others probably were injurious. i listened to singers and tried to get points from them. gradually i was unconsciously paving the way for the great opportunity of my life. it came in the form of an experienced teacher, dauphin, who had been a basso for ten years at the leading theatre of belgium, fourteen years in london, and later director at geneva and lyons. he also received the appointment of professor at the lyons conservatory. a famous opportunity one day dauphin heard me singing and inquired who i was. then he came in the room and said to me, "how much do you get here for teaching and playing?" i replied, proudly, "six thousand francs a year." he said, "you shall study with me and some day you shall earn as much as six thousand francs a month." dauphin, bless his soul, was wrong. i now earn six thousand francs every night i sing instead of every month. i could hardly believe that the opportunity i had waited for so long had come. dauphin had me come to his house and there he told me that my success in singing would depend quite as much upon my own industry as upon his instruction. thus one professor in the conservatory taught another in the art he had long sought to master. notwithstanding dauphin's confidence in me, all of the other professors thought that i was doing a perfectly insane thing, and did all in their power to prevent me from going to what they thought was my ruin. discouraging advice nevertheless, i determined to show them that they were all mistaken. during the first winter i studied no less than six operas, at the same time taking various exercises to improve my voice. during the second winter i mastered one opera every month, and at the same time did all my regular work--studying in my spare hours. at the end of my course i passed the customary examination, receiving the least possible distinction from my colleagues who were still convinced that i was pursuing a course that would end in complete failure. this brought home the truth that if i was to get ahead at all i would have to depend entirely upon myself. the outlook was certainly not propitious. nevertheless i studied by myself incessantly and disregarded the remarks of my pessimistic advisers. i sang in a church and also in a big synagogue to keep up my income. all the time i had to put up with the sarcasm of my colleagues who seemed to think, like many others, that the calling of the singer was one demanding little musicianship, and tried to make me see that in giving up the french horn and my conservatory professorship i would be abandoning a dignified career for that of a species of musician who at that time was not supposed to demand any special musical training. could not a shoemaker or a blacksmith take a few lessons and become a great singer? i, however, determined to become a different kind of a singer. i believed that there was a place for the singer with a thorough musical training, and while i kept up my vocal work amid the rain of irony and derogatory remarks from my mistaken colleagues, i did not fail to keep up my interest in the deeper musical studies. i had a feeling that the more good music i knew the better would be my work in opera. i wish that all singers could see this. many singers live in a little world all of their own. they know the music of the footlights, but there their experience ends. every symphony i have played has been molded into my life experience in such a way that it cannot help being reflected in my work. a critical moment finally the time came for my début in . it was a most serious occasion for me; for the rest of my career as a singer depended upon it. it was in rouen, and my fee was to be fifteen hundred francs a month. i thought that that would make me the richest man in the world. it was the custom of the town for the captain of the police to come before the audience at the end and inquire whether the audience approved of the artist's singing or whether their vocal efforts were unsatisfactory. this was to be determined by a public demonstration. when the captain held up the sign "approved," i felt as though the greatest moment in my life had arrived. i had worked so long and so hard for success and had been obliged to laugh down so much scorn that you can imagine my feelings. suddenly a great volume of applause came from the house and i knew in a second what my future should be. then it was that i realized that i was only a little way along my journey. i wanted to be the foremost french tenor of my time. i knew that success in france alone, while gratifying, would be limited, so i set out to conquer new worlds. wagner, up to that time, had never been sung by any french tenor, so i determined to master german and become a wagner singer. this i did, and it fell to me to receive that most coveted of wagnerian distinctions, "soloist at beyreuth," the citadel of the highest in german operatic art. in after years i sang in all parts of germany with as much success as in france. later i went to london and then to america, where i sang for many seasons. it has been no small pleasure for me to return to paris, where i once lived in penury, and to receive the highest fee ever paid to a french singer in the french capital. the need for great care i don't know what more i can say upon the subject of self-help for the singer. i have simply told my own story and have related some of the obstacles that i have overcome. i trust that no one who has not a voice really worth while will be misled by what i have had to say. the voice is one of the most intricate and wonderful of the human organs. properly exercised and cared for, it may be developed to a remarkable degree; but there are cases, of course, where there is not enough voice at the start to warrant the aspirant making the sacrifices that i have made to reach my goal. this is a very serious matter and one which should be determined by responsible judges. at the same time, the singers may see how possible it is for even experienced musicians, like my colleagues in lyons, to be mistaken. if i had depended upon them and not fought my own way out, i would probably be an obscure teacher in the same old city earning the munificent salary of one hundred dollars a month. fighting your own way the student who has to fight his own way has a much harder battle of it; but he has a satisfaction which certainly does not come to the one who has all his instruction fees and living expenses paid for him. he feels that he has earned his success; and, by the processes of exploration through which the self-help student must invariably pass, he becomes invested with a confidence and "i know" feeling which is a great asset to him. the main thing is for him to keep busy all the time. he has not a minute to spare upon dreaming. he has no one to carry his burden but himself; and the exercise of carrying it himself is the thing which will do most to make him strong and successful. the artists who leap into success are very rare. hundreds who have held mediocre positions come to the front, while those who appear most favored stay in the background. do not seek to gain eminence by any influence but that of real earnest work; and if you do not intend to work and to work hard, drop all of your aspirations for operatic laurels. [illustration: andreas dippel. © dupont.] andreas dippel biographical andreas dippel was born at cassel, . his father was a manufacturer who had the boy educated at the local gymnasium, with the view to making him a banker. after five years in a banking house he decided to become a singer and studied with mme. zottmayr. later he went to berlin, milan and vienna, where he studied with julius hey, alberto leoni and johann ress. in he made his début at bremen, in _the flying dutchman_. he remained with that company until . in the meantime, however, he had appeared at the metropolitan in new york, with such success that he toured america as a concert singer with anton seidl, arthur nikisch, and theodore thomas. from to he was a member of the imperial court opera at vienna. in he returned to america to the metropolitan. in he was appointed administrative manager of the metropolitan company, later becoming the manager of the philadelphia-chicago opera company. mr. dippel is a fine dramatic tenor with the enormous repertoire of works in four different languages. he is a fine actor and has been equally successful in new york, london, and beyreuth. he also has a repertoire of oratorios. if my daughter should study for grand opera andreas dippel the training of the girl designed to become a great prima donna is one of the most complex problems imaginable. you ask me to consider the case of an imaginary daughter designed for the career in order to make my opinions seem more pertinent. very well. if my daughter were studying for grand opera, and if she were a very little girl, i should first watch her very carefully to see whether she manifested any uncontrollable desire or ambition to become a great singer. without such a desire she will never become great. usually this ambition becomes evident at a very early age. then i should realize that the mere desire to become a great singer is only an infinitesimal part of the actual requirements. she must have, first of all, fine health, abundant vitality and an artistic temperament. she must show signs of being industrious. she should have the patience to wait until real results can be accomplished. in fact, there are so many attributes that it is difficult to enumerate them all. but they are all worth considering seriously. why? simply because, if they are not considered, she may be obliged to spend years of labor for which she will receive no return except the most bitter disappointment conceivable. of the thousands of girls who study to become prima donnas only a very few can succeed, from the nature of things. the others either abandon their ambitions or assume lesser rôles from little parts down to the chorus. you will notice that i have said but little about her voice. during her childhood there is very little means of judging of the voice. some girls' voices that seem very promising when they are children turn out in a most disappointing manner. so you see i would be obliged to consider the other qualifications before i even thought of the voice. of course, if the child showed no inclination for music or did not have the ability to "hold a tune," i should assume that she was one of those frequent freaks of nature which no amount of musical training can save. above all things i should not attempt to force her to take up a career against her own natural inclinations or gifts. the designing mother who desires to have her own ambitions realized in her daughter is the bane of every impresario. with a will power worthy of a bismarck she maps out a career for the young lady and then attempts to force the child through what she believes to be the proper channels leading to operatic success. she realizes that great singers achieve fame and wealth and she longs to taste of these. it is this, rather than any particular love for her child, that prompts her to fight all obstacles. no amount of advice or persuasion can make her believe that her child cannot become another tetrazzini, or garden, or schumann-heink, if only the impresario will give her a chance. in nine cases out of ten fate and nature have a conspiracy to keep the particular young lady in the rôle of a stenographer or a dressmaker; and in the battle with fate and nature even the most ambitious mother must be defeated. her very early training once determined that she stood a fair chance of success in the operatic field i should take the greatest possible care of her health, both physically and intellectually. note that i lay particular stress upon her physical training. it is most important, as no one but the experienced singer can form any idea of what demands are made upon the endurance and strength of the opera singer. her general education should be conducted upon the most approved lines. anything which will develop and expand the mind will be useful to her in later life. the later operatic rôles make far greater demands upon the mentality of the singer than those of other days. the singer is no longer a parrot with little or nothing to do but come before the footlights and sing a few beautiful tones to a few gesticulations. she is expected to act and to understand what she is acting. i would lay great stress upon history--the history of all nations--she should study the manners, the dress, the customs, the traditions, and the thought of different epochs. in order to be at home in _pelleas and melisande_, or _tristan und isolde_, or _la bohême_ she must have acquainted her mind with the historical conditions of the time indicated by the composer and librettist. her first musical training her first musical training should be musical. that is, she should be taught how to listen to beautiful music before she ever hears the word technic. she should be taught sight reading, and she ought to be able to read any melody as easily as she would read a book. the earlier this study is commenced with the really musical child, the better. before it is of any real value to the singer her sight reading should become second nature. she should have lost all idea of the technic of the art and read with ease and naturalness. this is of immense assistance. then she should study the piano thoroughly. the piano is the door to the music of the opera. the singer who is dependent upon some assistant to play over the piano scores is unfortunate. it is not really necessary for her to learn any of the other instruments; but she should be able to play readily and correctly. it will help her in learning scores, more than anything else. it will also open the door to much other beautiful music which will elevate her taste and ennoble her ideals. she should go to the opera as frequently as possible in order that she may become acquainted with the great rôles intuitively. if she cannot attend the opera itself she can at least gain an idea of the great operatic music through the talking machines. the "repertory" of records is now very large, but of course does not include all of the music of all of the scenes. she should be taught the musical traditions of the different historical musical epochs and the different so-called music schools. first she should study musical history itself and then become acquainted with the music of the different periods. the study of the violin is also an advantage in training the ear to listen for correct intonation; but the violin is by no means absolutely necessary. languages all educators recognize the fact that languages are attained best in childhood. the child's power of mimicry is so wonderful that it acquires a foreign language quite without any suggestion of accent, in a time which will always put their elders to shame. foreign children, who come to america before the age of ten, speak both then-native tongue and english with equal fluency. the first new language to be taken up should be italian. properly spoken, there is no language so mellifluous as italian. the beautiful quantitative value given to the vowels--the natural quest for euphony and the necessity for accurate pronunciation of the last syllable of a word in order to make the grammatical sense understandable--is a training for both the ear and the voice. italy is the land of song; and most of the conductors give their directions in italian. not only the usual musical terms, but also the other directions are denoted in italian by the orchestral conductors; and if the singer does not understand she must suffer accordingly. after the study of italian i would recommend, in order, french and german. if my daughter were studying for opera, i should certainly leave nothing undone until she had mastered italian, french, german and english. although she would not have many opportunities to sing in english, under present operatic conditions, the english-speaking people in america, great britain, canada, south africa, and australia are great patrons of musical art; and the artist must of course travel in some of these countries. the study of the voice itself her actual voice study should not commence before she is seventeen or eighteen years of age. in the hands of a very skilled and experienced teacher it might commence a little earlier; but it is better to wait until her health becomes more settled and her mature strength develops. at first the greatest care must be taken. the teacher has at best a delicate flower which a little neglect or a little over training may deform or even kill. i can not discuss methods, as that is not pertinent to this conference. there is no one absolutely right way; and many famous singers have traveled what seem quite different roads to reach the same end. however, it is a historic fact that few great singers have ever acquired voices which have had beautiful quality, perfect flexibility and reliability, who have not sung for some years in the old italian style. mind you, i am not referring to an old italian school of singing here, but more to that class of music adopted by the old italian composers--a style which permitted few vocal blemishes to go by unnoticed. most of the great wagnerian singers have been proficient in coloratura rôles before they undertook the more complicated parts of the great master at beyreuth. it is better to leave the study of repertoire until later years; that is, until the study of voice has been pursued for a sufficient time to insure regular progress in the study of repertoire. personally, i am opposed to those methods which take the student directly to the study of repertoire without any previous vocal drill. the voice, to be valuable to the singer, must be able to stand the wear and tear of many seasons. it is often some years before the young singer is able to achieve real success and the profits come with the later years. a voice that is not carefully drilled and trained, so that the singer knows how to get the most out of it, with the least strain and the least expenditure of effort, will not stand the wear and tear of many years of opera life. after all, the study of repertoire is the easiest thing. getting the voice properly trained is the difficult thing. in the study of repertoire the singer often makes the mistake of leaping right into the more difficult rôles. she should start with the simpler rôles; such as those of some of the lesser parts in the old italian operas. then, she may essay the leading rôles of, let us say, _traviata_, _barber of seville_, _norma_, _faust_, _romeo and juliet_, and _carmen_. instead of simple rôles, she seems inclined to spend her time upon _isolde_, _mimi_, _elsa_ or _butterfly_. it has become so, that now, when a new singer comes to me and wants to sing _tosca_ or some rôle that (sic) the so-called new or _verissimo_ italian school, i almost invariably refuse to listen. i ask them to sing something from _norma_ or _puritani_ or _dinorah_ or _lucia_ in which it is impossible for them to conceal their vocal faults. but no, they want to sing the big aria from the second act of _madama butterfly_, which is hardly to be called an aria at all but rather a collection of dramatic phrases. when they are done, i ask them to sing some of the opening phrases from the same rôle, and ere long they discover that they really have nothing which an impresario can purchase. they are without the voice and without the complete knowledge of the parts which they desire to sing. then they discover that the impresario knows that the tell-tale pieces are the old arias from old italian operas. they reveal the voice in its entirety. if the breath control is not right, it becomes evident at once. if the quality is not right, it becomes as plain as the features of the young lady's face. there is no dramatic--emotional--curtain under which to hide these shortcomings. consequently, knowing what i do, i would insist upon my daughter having a thorough training in the old italian arias. her training in acting her training in acting would depend largely upon her natural talent. some children are born actors--natural mimics. they act from their childhood right up to old age. they can learn more in five minutes than others can learn in years. some seem to require little or no training in the art of acting. as a rule they become the most forceful acting singers. others improve wonderfully under the direction of a clever teacher. the new school of opera demands higher histrionic ability from the singer. in fact, we have come to a time when opera is a real drama set to music which is largely recitative and which does not distract from the action of the drama. the librettos of other days were, to say the least, ridiculous. if the music had not had a marvelous hold upon the people they could not have remained in popular favor. to my mind it is an indication of the wonderful power of music that these operas retain their favor. there is something about the melodies which seems to preserve them for all time; and the public is just as anxious to hear them to-day as it was twenty-five and fifty years ago. richard wagner turned the tide of acting in opera by his music dramas. gluck and von weber had already made an effort in the right direction; but it remained for the mighty power of wagner to accomplish the final work. now we are witnessing the rise of a school of musical dramatic actors such as garden, maurel, renaud, and others which promises to raise the public taste in this matter and which will add vastly to the pleasure of opera going, as it will make the illusion appear more real. this also imposes upon the impresario a new contingency which threatens to make opera more and more expensive. costumes, scenery and all the settings nowadays must be both historically authentic and costly. the collection of wigs, robes, and armor, together with a few sets of scenery, often with the chairs and other furniture actually painted on the scenes, which a few years ago were thought adequate for the equipment of an opera company, have now given way to equipment more elaborate than that of a belasco or a henry irving. nothing is left undone to make the picture real and beautiful. in fact operatic productions, as now given in america, are as complete and luxurious as any performances given anywhere in the world. mme. emma eames biographical mme. emma eames was born at shanghai, china. her father, a graduate of harvard law school, had been a sea-captain and had been in business in the chinese city. at the age of five she was brought back to the home of her parents at bath, maine. her mother was an accomplished amateur singer who supervised her early musical training. at sixteen she went to boston to study with miss munger. at nineteen she became a pupil of marchesi in paris and remained with the celebrated teacher for two years. at twenty-one she made her début at the grand opera in paris in _romeo et juliette_. two years later she appeared at covent garden, london, with such success that she was immediately engaged for the metropolitan opera house in new york. few singers ever gained such a strong hold upon the american and english public. her voice is a fine flexible soprano, capable of doing _marguerite_ or _elisabeth_ equally well. her husband, emilio de gogorza, with whom it is our privilege to present a conference later in this book, is one of the foremost baritones of our time. [illustration: mme. emma eames.] how a great master coached opera singers mme. emma eames gounod an idealist one does not need to review the works of charles gounod to any great extent before discovering that above all things he was an idealist. his whole aspect of life and art was that of a man imbued with a sense of the beautiful and a longing to actualize some noble art purpose. he was of an age of idealists. coming at the artificial period of the second empire, he was influenced by that artistic atmosphere, as were such masters of the brush as jean august ingres and eugène delacroix. this, however, was unconscious, and in no way affected his perfect sincerity in all he did. first meeting with gounod i was taken to gounod by my master, mme. mathilde marchesi, who, perhaps, had some reason to regret her kindness in introducing me, since gounod did not favor what he conceived as the italian method of singing. he had a feeling that the italian school, as he regarded it, was too obvious, and that french taste demanded more sincerity, more subtlety, better balance and a certain finesse which the purely vocal italian style slightly obscured. mme. marchesi was very irate over gounod's attitude, which she considered highly insulting; whereas, as a matter of fact, gounod was doing the only thing that a man of his convictions could do, and that was to tell what he conceived as the truth. gounod's study was a room which fitted his character perfectly. his very pronounced religious tendencies were marked by the stained glass windows which cast a delicate golden tint over the little piano he occasionally used when composing. on one side was a pipe organ upon which he was very fond of playing. in fact, the whole atmosphere was that of a chapel, which, together with the beautiful and dignified appearance of the master himself, made an impression that one could not forget. his great sincerity, his lofty aims, his wonderful earnestness, his dramatic intensity, were apparent at once. many composers are hopelessly disappointing in their appearance, but when one saw gounod, it was easy to realize whence come the beautiful musical colors which make _romeo et juliette_, _faust_ and _the redemption_ so rich and individual. his whole artistic character is revealed in a splendid word of advice he gave to me when i first went to him: "anyone who is called to any form of musical expression must reveal himself only in the language that god has given him to speak with. find this language yourself and try, above all things, to be sincere--never singing down to your public." gounod had a wonderful power of compelling attention. while one was with him his personality was so great that it seemed to envelop you, obliterating everything else. this can be attributed not only to magnetism or hypnotism, but also to his own intense, all-burning interest in whatever he was engaged upon. naturally the relationship of teacher and pupil is different from that of comradeship, but i was impressed that gounod, even in moments of apparent repose, never seemed to lose that wonderful force which virtually consumed the entire attention of all those who were in his presence. he had remarkable gifts in painting word-pictures. his imagination was so vigorous that he could make one feel that which he saw in his mind's eye as actually present. i attribute this to the fact that he himself was possessed by the subject at hand and spoke from the fountains of his deepest conviction. first he made you see and then he made you express. he taught one that to convince others one must first be convinced. indeed, he allowed a great variety of interpretations in order that one might interpret through one's own power of conception rather than through following blindly his own. during my lessons with gounod he revealed not only his very pronounced histrionic ability, but also his charming talent as a singer. i had an accompanist who came with me to the lessons and when i was learning the various rôles, gounod always sang the duets with me. although he was well along in years, he had a small tenor voice, exquisitely sweet and sympathetic. he sang with delightful ease and with invariably perfect diction, and perfect vision. if some of our critics of musical performances were more familiar with the niceties of pronunciation and accentuation of different foreign languages, many of our present-day singers would be called upon to suffer some very severe criticisms. i speak of this because gounod was most insistent upon correct pronunciation and accent, so that the full meaning of the words might be conveyed to every member of the audience. a hearing at the opera when i went to the opera for my hearing or _audition_, gounod went with me and we sang the duets together. the director, m. gailhard, refused my application, claiming that i was a debutante and could not expect an initial performance at the grand opéra despite my ability and musical attainments. it may be interesting for aspiring vocal students to learn something of the various obstacles which still stand in the way of a singer, even after one has had a very thorough training and acquired proficiency which should compel a hearing. alas! in opera, as in many other lines of human endeavor, there is a political background that is often black with intrigue and machinations. i was determined to fight my way on the merit of my art, and accordingly i was obliged to wait for nearly two years before i was able to make my début. these were years filled with many exasperating circumstances. i went to brussels after two years' study with marchesi, having been promised my début there. i was kept for months awaiting it and was finally prevented from making an appearance by one who, pretending to be my friend and to be doing all in her power to further my career, was in reality threatening the directors with instant breaking of her contract should i be allowed to appear. i had this on the authority of mr. gevaërt, the then director of the conservatoire and my firm friend. the artist was a great success and her word was law. it was on my return that i was taken to gounod and i waited a year for a hearing. gounod's opera, _romeo et juliette_, had been given at the opéra comique many times but there was a demand for performances at the grand opéra. accordingly gounod added a ballet, which fitted it for performance at the opéra. apropos of this ballet, gounod said to me, with no little touch of cynicism, "now you shall see what kind of music a _ga ga_ can write" (ga ga is the french term for a very old man, that is, a man in his dotage). he was determined that i should be heard at the grand opera as juliette, but even his influence could not prevent the director from signing an agreement with one he personally preferred, which required that she should have the honor of making her début at the grand opéra in the part. then it was that i became aware that it was not only because i was a debutante that i had been denied. gounod would not consent to this arrangement, insisting on her making her début previously in _faust_, and fortunate it was, since the singer in question never attained more than mediocre success. gounod still demanded as a compromise that the first six performances of the opera should be given to adelina patti, and that they should send for me for the subsequent ones. in the meantime i was engaged at the opéra comique. there massenet looked with disfavor upon my début before that of sybil sanderson. massenet had brought fortunes to the opéra comique through his immensely popular and theatrically effective operas. consequently his word was law. i waited for some months and no suggestion of an opportunity for a performance presented itself. all the time i was engaged in extending my repertoire and becoming more and more indignant at the treatment i was receiving in not being allowed to sing the operas thus acquired. my year's contract had still three months to run when i received an offer from st. petersburg. shortly thereafter i received a note from m. gailhard announcing that he wished to see me. i went and he informed me that gounod was still insistent upon my appearance in the rôle of _juliette_. i was irritated by the whole long train of aggravating circumstances, but said, "give me the contract, i'll sign it." then i went directly to the opéra comique and asked to see the director. i was towering with indignation--indeed, i felt myself at least seven feet tall and perhaps quite as wide. i demanded my contract. to his "mais, mademoiselle--" i commanded, "send for it." he brought the contract and tore it up in my presence, only to learn next morning to his probable chagrin that i was engaged and announced for an important rôle at the grand opéra. the first performance of a debutante at the grand opéra is a great ordeal, and it is easy to imagine that the strain upon a young singer might deprive her of her natural powers of expression. the outcome of mine was most fortuitous and with success behind me i found my road very different indeed. however, if i had not had a friend at court, in the splendid person of charles gounod, i might have been obliged to wait years longer, and perhaps never have had an opportunity to appear in paris, where only a few foreigners in a generation get such a privilege. it is a great one, i consider, as there is no school of good taste and restraint like the french, which is also one where one may acquire the more intellectual qualities in one's work and a sense of proportion and line. gounod as a modernist i have continually called attention to gounod's idealism. there are some to-day who might find the works of gounod artificial in comparison with the works of some very modern writers. to them i can only say that the works of the great master gave a great deal of joy to audiences fully as competent to judge of their artistic and æsthetic beauty as any of the present day. indeed, their flavor is so delicate and sublimated that the subsequent attempts at interpreting them with more realistic methods only succeeds in destroying their charm. it may be difficult for some who are saturated with the ultra-modern tendencies in music to look upon gounod as a modernist, but thus he was regarded by his own friends. one of my most amusing recollections of gounod was his telling me--himself much amused thereby--of the first performance of _faust_. his friends had attended in large numbers to assist at the expected "success," only to be witnesses of a huge failure. gounod told me that the only numbers to have any success whatsoever were the "soldiers' chorus," and that of the old men in the second part of the first act. he said that all his friends avoided him and disappeared or went on the other side of the street. some of the more intimate told him that he must change his manner of writing as it was so "unmelodious" and "advanced." this seems to me a most interesting recollection, in view of the "cubist" music of stravinsky and co. of to-day. in thinking of gounod we must not forget his period and his public. we must realize that his operatic heroes and heroines must be approached from an altogether idealistic attitude--never a materialistic one. see the manner in which gounod has taken shakespeare's _juliette_ and translated her into an atmosphere of poetry. nevertheless he constantly intensifies his dramatic situations as the dramatic nature of the composition demands. his _juliette_, though consistent with his idea of her throughout, is not the _juliet_ of shakespeare. as also his _marguerite_ is that of kaulbach and not the gretchen of goethe. of course, a great deal depends upon the training and school of the artist interpreting the rôle. in my own interpretations i am governed by certain art principles which seem very vital indeed to me. the figure of the mediæval princess _elsa_ has to be represented with a restraint quite opposed to that of the panting savage _aïda_. also, the palpitating, elemental _tosca_ calls for another type of character painting than, for instance, the modest, gestureless, timid and womanly japanese girl in mascagni's _iris_. these things are not taught in schools by teachers. they come only after the prolonged study which every conscientious artist must give to her rôles. gounod felt this very strongly and impressed it upon me. all music had a meaning to him--an inner meaning which the great mind invariably divines through a kind of artistic intuition difficult to define. i remember his playing to me the last act of _don giovanni_, which in his hands gained the grandeur and depth of greek tragedy. he had in his hands the power to thrill one to the very utmost. again he was keenly delighted with the most joyous passages in music. he was exceptionally fond of mozart. _le nozze di figaro_ was especially appreciated. he used to say, after accompanying himself in the aria of cherubino the page, from the st act, "isn't that spring? isn't that youth? isn't that the joy of life? how marvelously mozart has crystallized this wonderful exuberant spirit in his music!" one reason for gounod's eminence one reason for gounod's eminence lay in his great reverence for his art. he believed in the cultivation of reverence for one's art, as the religious devotee has reverence for his cult. to gounod his art was a religion. to use a very expressive colloquialism, "he never felt himself above his job." time and again we meet men and women who make it a habit to look down upon their work as though they were superior to it. they are continually apologizing to their friends and depreciating their occupation. such people seem foreordained for failure. if one can not regard the work one is engaged upon with the greatest earnestness and respect--if one can not feel that the work is worthy of one's deepest _reverence_, one can accomplish little. i have seen so much of this with students and aspiring musicians that i feel that i would be missing a big opportunity if i did not emphasize this fine trait in gounod's character. i know of one man in particular who has been going down and down every year largely because he has never considered anything he has had to do as worthy of his best efforts. he has always been "above his job." if you are dissatisfied with your work, seek out something that you think is really deserving of your labor, something commensurate with your idea of a serious dignified occupation in which you feel that you may do your best work. in most cases, however, it is not a matter of occupation but an attitude of mind--the difference between an earnest dignified worker and one who finds it more comfortable to evade work. this is true in music as in everything else. if you can make your musical work a cult as gounod did, if you have talent--vision--ah! how few have vision, how few can really and truly see--if you have the understanding which comes through vision, there is no artistic height which you may not climb. one can not hope to give a portrait of gounod in so short an interview. one can only point out a few of his most distinguishing features. one who enjoyed his magnificent friendship can only look upon it as a hallowed memory. after all, gounod has written himself into his own music and it is to that we must go if we would know his real nature. mme. florence easton biographical mme. florence easton was born at middleborough, yorkshire, england, oct. , . at a very early age she was taken to toronto, canada, by her parents, who were both accomplished singers. she was given a musical training in youth with the view of making her a concert pianist. her teacher was j. a. d. tripp, and at the age of eleven she appeared in concert. her vocal talents were discovered and she was sent to the royal academy at london, england, where her teachers were reddy and mme. agnes larkom, a pupil of garcia. she then went to paris and studied under eliot haslam, an english teacher resident in the french metropolis. she then took small parts in the well-known english opera organization, the moody-manners company, acquiring a large repertoire in english. with her husband, francis maclennen, she came to america to take the leading rôles in the savage production of _parsifal_, remaining to sing the next season in _madama butterfly_. the couple were then engaged to sing for six years at the berlin royal opera and became wonderfully successful. after three years at hamburg and two years with the chicago opera company she was engaged for dramatic rôles at the metropolitan, and has become a great favorite. [illustration: mme. florence easton. © mishkin.] the open door to opera mme. florence easton what is the open door to opera in america? is there an open door, and if not, how can one be made? who may go through that door and what are the terms of admission? these are questions which thousands of young american opera aspirants are asking just now. the prospect of singing at a great opera house is so alluring and the reward in money is often so great that students center their attentions upon the grand prize and are willing to take a chance of winning, even though they know that only one in a very few may succeed and then often at bitter sacrifice. the question is a most interesting one to me, as i think that i know what the open door to opera in this country might be--what it may be if enough patriotic americans could be found to cut through the hard walls of materialism, conventionalism and indifference. it lies through the small opera company--the only real and great school which the opera singer of the future can have. the school of prime donne in european countries there are innumerable small companies capable of giving good opera which the people enjoy quite as thoroughly as the metropolitan audiences of the world enjoy the opera which commands the best singers of the times. for years these small opera companies have been the training schools of the great singers. not to have gone through such a school was as damaging an admission as that of not having gone through a college would be to a college professor applying for a new position. lilli lehmann, schumann-heink, ruffo, campanini, jenny lind, patti, all are graduates of these schools of practice. in america there seems to have existed for years a kind of prejudice, bred of ignorance, against all opera companies except those employing all-star casts in the biggest theatres in the biggest cities. this existed, despite the fact that these secondary opera companies often put on opera that was superior to the best that was to be heard in some italian, german and french cities which possessed opera companies that stood very high in the estimation of americans who had never heard them. it was once actually the case that the fact that a singer had once sung in a smaller opera company prevented her from aspiring to sing in a great opera company. america, however, has become very much better informed and much more independent in such matters, and our opera goers are beginning to resemble european audiences in that they let their ears and their common sense determine what is best rather than their prejudices and their conventions regarding reputation. it was actually the case at one time in america that a singer with a great reputation could command a large audience, whereas a singer of far greater ability and infinitely better voice might be shut out because she had once sung in an opera company not as pretentious as those in the big cities. this seemed very comic indeed to many european singers, who laughed in their coat sleeves over the real situation. in the first place, the small companies in many cities would provide more singers with opportunities for training and public appearances. the united states now has two or three major opera companies. count up on your fingers the greatest number of singers who could be accommodated with parts: only once or twice in a decade does the young singer, at the age when the best formative work must be done, have a chance to attain the leading rôles. if we had in america ten or twenty smaller opera companies of real merit, the chances would be greatly multiplied. the first thing that the singer has to fight is stage fright. no matter how well you may know a rôle in a studio, unless you are a very extraordinary person you are likely to take months in acquiring the stage freedom and ease in working before an audience. there is only one cure for stage fright, and that is to appear continually until it wears off. many deserving singers have lost their great chances because they have depended upon what they have learned in the studio, only to find that when they went before a great and critical audience their ability was suddenly reduced to per cent., if not to zero. even after years of practice and experience in great european opera houses where i appeared repeatedly before royalty, the reputation of the metropolitan opera house in new york was so great that at the time i made my début there i was so afflicted by stage fright that my voice was actually reduced to one-half of its force and my other abilities accordingly. this is the truth, and i am glad to have young singers know it as it emphasizes my point. imagine what the effect would have been upon a young singer who had never before sung in public on the stage. footlight paralysis is one of the most terrifying of all acute diseases and there is no cure for it but experience. the best beginning in the moody manners company in england, the directors wisely understood this situation and prepared for it. all the singers scheduled to take leading rôles (and they were for the most part very young singers, since when the singer became experienced enough she was immediately stolen by companies paying higher salaries) were expected to go for a certain time in the chorus (not to sing, just to walk off and on the stage) until familiar with the situation. accordingly, my first appearance with the moody manners company was when i walked out with the chorus. i have never heard of this being done deliberately by any other managers, but think how sensible it is! again, it is far more advantageous for the young singer to appear in the smaller opera house at first, so that if any errors are made the opera goers will not be unforgiving. there is no tragedy greater than throwing a young girl into an operatic situation far greater than her experience and ability can meet, and then condemning her for years because she did not rise to the occasion. this has happened many times in recent years. ambition is a beautiful thing; but when ambition induces one to walk upon a tight rope over niagara, without having first learned to walk properly on earth, ambition should be restrained. i can recollect several singers who were widely heralded at their first performances by enthusiastic admirers, who are now no longer known. what has become of them? is it not better to learn the profession of opera singing in its one great school, and learn it so thoroughly that one can advance in the profession, just as one may advance in every other profession? the singer in the small opera company who, night after night, says to herself, "to-morrow it must be better," is the one who will be the lilli lehmann, the galli-curci, or the schumann-heink of to-morrow; not the important person who insists upon postponing her début until she can appear at the metropolitan or at covent garden. colonel henry w. savage did america an immense service, as did the aborn brothers and fortune gallo, in helping to create a popular taste for opera presented in a less pretentious form. america needs such companies and needs them badly, not merely to educate the public up to an appreciation of the fact that the finest operatic performances in the world are now being given at the metropolitan opera house, but to help provide us with well-schooled singers for the future. necessity of routine nothing can take the place of routine in learning operas. many, many opera singers i have known seem to be woefully lacking in it. in learning a new opera, i learn all the parts that have anything to do with the part i am expected to sing. in other words, i find it very inadvisable to depend upon cues. there are so many disturbing things constantly occurring on the stage to throw one off one's track. for instance, when i made my first appearance in mascagni's _lodoletta_ i was obliged to go on with only twenty-four hours' notice, without rehearsal, in an opera i had seen produced only once. i had studied the rôle only two weeks. while on the stage i was so entranced with the wonderful singing of mr. caruso that i forgot to come in at the right time. he said to me quickly _sotto voce_-- "_canta! canta! canta!_" and my routine drill of the part enabled me to come in without letting the audience know of my error. the mere matter of getting the voice to go with the orchestra, as well as that of identifying cues heard in the unusual quality of the orchestral instruments (so different from the tone quality of the piano), is most confusing, and only routine can accustom one to being ready to meet all of these strange conditions. one is supposed to keep an eye on the conductor practically all of the time while singing. the best singers are those who never forget this, but do it so artfully that the audience never suspects. many singers follow the conductor's baton so conspicuously that they give the appearance of monkeys on a string. this, of course, is highly ludicrous. i don't know of any way of overcoming it but experience. yes, there is another great help, and that is musicianship. the conductor who knows that an artist is a musician in fact, is immensely relieved and always very appreciative. singers should learn as much about the technical side of music as possible. learning to play the violin or the piano, and learning to play it well is invaluable. watching for opportunities the singer must be ever on the alert for opportunities to advance. this is largely a matter of preparation. if one is capable, the opportunities usually come. i wonder if i may relate a little incident which occurred to me in germany long before the war. i had been singing in berlin, when the impresario of the royal opera approached me and asked me if i could sing _aïda_ on a following monday. i realized that if i admitted that i had never sung _aïda_ before, the thoroughgoing, matter-of-fact german intendant would never even let me have a chance. emmy destinn was then the prima donna at the royal opera, and had been taken ill. the post was one of the operatic plums of all europe. before i knew it, i had said "yes, i can sing _aïda_." it was a white lie, and once told, i had to live up to it. i had never sung _aïda_, and only knew part of it. running home i worked all night long to learn the last act. over and over the rôle hundreds and hundreds of times i went, until it seemed as though my eyes would drop out of my head. monday night came, and thanks to my routine experience in smaller companies, i had learned _aïda_ so that i was perfectly confident of it. imagine the strain, however, when i learned that the kaiser and the court were to be present. at the end i was called before the kaiser, who, after warmly complimenting me, gave me the greatly coveted post in his opera house. i do not believe that he ever found out that the little toronto girl had actually fibbed her way into an opportunity. tales of strauss strauss was one of the leading conductors while i was at the royal opera and i sang under his baton many, many times. he was a real genius,--in that once his art work was completed, his interest immediately centered upon the next. once while we were performing _rosenkavalier_ he came behind the scenes and said: "will this awfully _long_ opera never end? i want to go home." i said to him, "but doctor, you composed it yourself," and he said, "yes, but i never meant to conduct it." let it be explained that strauss was an inveterate player of the german card game, scat, and would far rather seek a quiet corner with a few choice companions than go through one of his own works night after night. however, whenever the creative instinct was at work he let nothing impede it. i remember seeing him write upon his cuffs (no doubt some passing theme) during a performance of _meistersinger_ he was conducting. the singer's greatest need the singer's greatest need, or his greatest asset if he has one, is an honest critic. my husband and i have made it a point never to miss hearing one another sing, no matter how many times we have heard each other sing in a rôle. sometimes, after a big performance, it is very hard to have to be told about all the things that one did not do well, but that is the only way to improve. there are always many people to tell one the good things, but i feel that the biggest help that i have had through my career has been the help of my husband, because he has always told me the places where i could improve, so that every performance i had something new to think about. an artist never stands still. he either goes forward or backward and, of course, the only way to get to the top is by going forward. the difficulty in america is in giving the young singers a chance after their voices are placed. if only we could have a number of excellent stock opera companies, even though there had to be a few traveling stars after the manner of the old dramatic companies, where everybody had to start at the bottom and work his way up, because with a lovely voice, talent and perseverance anyone can get to the top if one has a chance to work. by "work" i mean singing as many new rôles as possible and as often as possible and not starting at a big opera house singing perhaps two or three times during a season. just think of it,--the singer at a small opera house has more chance to learn in two months than the beginner at a big opera house might have in five years. after all, the thing that is most valuable to a singer is time, as with time the voice will diminish in beauty. getting to the top via the big opera house is the work of a lifetime, and the golden tones are gone before one really has an opportunity to do one's best work. [illustration: geraldine farrar.] geraldine farrar biographical although one of the youngest of the noted american singers, none has achieved such an extensive international reputation as miss farrar. born february , , in melrose, mass., she was educated at the public schools in that city. at the school age she became the pupil of mrs. j. h. long, in boston. after studying with several teachers, including emma thursby, in new york, and trabadello, in paris, she went to lilli lehmann in berlin, and under this, the greatest of dramatic singers of her time, miss farrar received a most thorough and careful training in all the elements of her art. she made her début as marguerite in _faust_ at the royal opera in berlin, october th, . later, after touring european cities with ever increasing successes, she was engaged at the opera comique and grand opera, paris, and then at the metropolitan opera house in new york, where she has been the leading soprano for many seasons. the many enticing offers made for appearances in moving pictures led to a new phase of her career. in many pictures she has appeared with her husband, m. lou tellegen, one of the most distinguished actors of the french school, who at one time was the leading man for sarah bernhardt. the following conference is rich in advice to any young woman who desires to know what she must do in order to become a prima donna. what must i go through to become a prima donna? mme. geraldine farrar what must i do to become a prima donna? let us reverse the usual method of discussing the question and begin with the artist upon the stage in a great opera house like the metropolitan in new york, on a gala night, every seat sold and hundreds standing. it is a modern opera with a "heavy" score. what is the first consideration of the singer? primarily, an artist in grand opera must _sing_ in some fashion to insure the proper projection of her rôle across the large spaces of the all-too-large auditoriums. those admirable requisites of clear diction, facial expression and emotional appeal will be sadly hampered unless the medium of sound carries their message. it is only from sad experience that one among many rises superior to some of the disadvantages of our modern opera repertoire. gone are the days when the facile vocalist was supported by a small group of musicians intent upon a discreet accompaniment for the benefit of the singer's vocal exertions. voices trained for the older repertoire were not at the mercy of an enlarged orchestra pit, wherein the over-zealous gentlemen now fight--_furioso ad libitum_--for the supremacy of operatic effects. an amiable musical observer once asked me why we all shouted so in opera. i replied by a question, asking if he had ever made an after-dinner speech. he acquiesced. i asked him how many times he rapped on the table for attention and silence. he admitted it was rather often. i asked him why. he said, so that he might be heard. he answered his own question by conceding that the carrying timbre of a voice cannot compete successfully against even banquet hall festivities unless properly focused out of a normal speaking tone. the difference between a small room and one seating several hundred is far greater than the average auditor realizes. if the mere rattling of silver and china will eclipse this vocal effort in speech i leave to your imagination what must transpire when the singer is called upon to dominate with one thread of song the tremendous onslaught of an orchestra and to rise triumphant above it in a theater so large that the faithful gatherers in the gallery tell me we all look like pigmies, and half the time are barely heard. since the recesses where we must perform are so exaggerated everything must be in like proportion, hence we are very often too noisy, but how can it be otherwise if we are to influence the eager taxpayer in row x? after all, he has not come to hear us _whisper_, and his point of vantage is not so admirable as if he were sitting at a musical comedy in a small theater. for this condition the size of the theater and the instrumentation imposed by the composer are to be censured, and less blame placed upon the overburdened shoulders of the vocal competitor against these odds. little shading in operatic tone color is possible unless an accompanying phrase permits it or the trumpeter swallows a pin! lucia or zaza if your repertoire is _the barber_, _lucia_, _somnambula_ and all such italian dainties, well and good. nothing need disturb the complete enjoyment of this lace-work. but if your auditors weep at _butterfly_ and _zaza_ or thrill to _pagliacci_, they demand you use a quite different technic, which comes to the point of my story. i believe it was jean de reszke who advocated the voice "in the mask" united to breath support from the diaphragm. from personal observation i should say our coloratura charmers lay small emphasis on that highly important factor and use their head voices with a freedom more or less god given. but the power and life-giving quality of this fundamental cannot be too highly estimated for us who must color our phrases to suit modern dramatics and evolve a carrying quality that will not only eliminate the difficulty of vocal demands, but at the same time insure immunity from harmful after-effects. this indispensable twin of the head voice is the dynamo which alone must endure all the necessary fatigue, leaving the actual voice phrases free to float unrestricted with no ignoble distortions or possible signs of distress. alas! it is not easy to write of this, but the experience of years proves how vital a point is its saving grace and how, unfortunately, it remains an unknown factor to many. to note two of our finest examples of greatness in this marvelous profession, lilli lehmann and jean de reszke, neither of whom had phenomenal vocal gifts, i would point out their remarkable mental equipment, unceasing and passionate desire for perfection, paired with an unerring instinct for the noble and distinguished such as has not been found in other exponents of purely vocal virtuosity, with a few rare exceptions, as melba and galli-curci, for instance, to mention two beautiful instruments of our generation. the singing art is not a casual inspiration and it should never be treated as such. the real artist will have an organized mental strategy just as minute and reliable as any intricate machinery, and will under all circumstances (save complete physical disability) be able to control and dominate her gifts to their fullest extent. this is not learned in a few years within the four walls of a studio, but is the result of a lifetime of painstaking care and devotion. there was a time when ambition and overwork so told upon me that mistakenly i allowed myself to minimize my vocal practice. how wrong that was i found out in short time and i have returned long since to my earlier precepts as taught me by lilli lehmann. keep the voice strong and flexible in her book, _how to sing_, there is much for the student to digest with profit, though possible reservations are advisable, dependent upon one's individual health and vocal resistance. her strong conviction was, and is, that a voice requires daily and conscientious exercise to keep it strong and flexible. having successfully mastered the older italian rôles as a young singer, her incursion into the later-day dramatic and classic repertoire in no wise became an excuse to let languish the fundamental idea of beautiful sound. how vitally important and admirably _bel canto_ sustained by the breath support has served her is readily understood when one remembers that she has outdistanced all the colleagues of her earlier career and now well over sixty, she is as indefatigable in her daily practice as we younger singers should be. this brief extract about patti (again quoting lilli lehmann) will furnish an interesting comparison: 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 theater in the evening and sang triumphantly, without ever having seen the persons who sang or 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 "ah, je n'en sais rien!" she possessed unconsciously, as a gift of nature, a union of all those qualities that 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 her voice. 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. but how few of us would ever make a career if we waited for such favors from nature! lessons must be adequate bearing in mind the absolute necessity and real joy in vocal work, it confounds and amazes me that teachers of this art feel their duty has been accomplished when they donate twenty minutes or half an hour to a pupil! i do not honestly believe this is a fair exchange, and it is certainly not within reason to believe that within so short a time a pupil can actually benefit by the concentration and instruction so hastily conferred upon her. if this be very plain speaking, it is said with the object to benefit the pupil only, for it is, after all, _they_ who must pay the ultimate in success or failure. an hour devoted to the minute needs of one pupil is not too much time to devote to so delicate a subject. an intelligent taskmaster will let his pupil demonstrate ten or fifteen minutes and during the same period of rest will discuss and awaken the pupil's interest from an intelligent point of view, that some degree of individuality may color even the drudgery of the classroom. a word of counsel from such a mistress of song as lehmann or sembrich is priceless, but the sums that pour into greedy pockets of vocal mechanics, not to say a harsher word, is a regretable proceeding. too many mediocrities are making sounds. too many of the same class are trying to instruct, but, as in politics, the real culprit is the people. as long as the public forbear an intelligent protest in this direction, just so long will the studios be crowded with pathetic seekers for fame. what employment these infatuated individuals enjoyed before the advent of grand opera and the movies became a possible exhaust pipe for their vanity is not clear, but they certainly should be discouraged. new york alone is crowded with aspirants for the stage, and their little bag of tricks is of very slender proportions. let us do everything in our power to help the really worthy talent; but it is a mistaken charity, and not patriotic, to shove singers and composers so called, of american birth, upon a weary public which perceives nothing except the fact that they are of native birth and have no talent to warrant such assumption. i do not think the musical observers are doing the cause of art in this country a favor when columns are written about the inferior works of the non-gifted. an ambitious effort is all right in its way, but that is no reason to connect the ill-advised production with american hopes. on the contrary, it does us a bad turn. i shall still contend that the english language is not a pretty one for our vocal exploitations, and within my experience of the past ten years i have heard but one american work which i can sincerely say would have given me pleasure to create, that same being mr. henry hadley's recently produced _cleopatra's night_. his score is rich and deserving of the highest praise. in closing i should like to quote again from mme. lehmann's book an exercise that would seem to fulfill a long-felt want: "the great scale is the most necessary exercise for all kinds of voices. it was taught me by my mother. she taught it to all her pupils and to us." here is the scale as lehmann taught it to me. [illustration: musical notation: breath breath breath breath] it was sung upon all the principal vowels. it was extended stepwise through different keys over the entire range of the two octaves of the voice. it was not her advice to practice it too softly, but it was done with all the resonating organs well supported by the diaphragm, the tone in a very supple and elastic "watery" state. she would think nothing of devoting from forty minutes to sixty minutes a day to the slow practice of this exercise. of course, she would treat what one might call a heavy brunette voice quite differently from a bright blonde voice. these terms of blonde and brunette, of course, have nothing to do with the complexion of the individual, but to the color of the voice. the only cure lehmann said of this scale: "it is the only cure for all injuries, and at the same time the most excellent means of fortification against all over-exertion. i sing it every day, often twice, even if i have to sing one of the heaviest rôles in the evening. i can rely absolutely upon its assistance. i often take fifty minutes to go through it once, for i let no tone pass that is lacking in any degree in pitch, power, duration or in single vibration of the propagation form." personally i supplement this great scale often with various florid legato phrases of arias selected from the older italians or mozart, whereby i can more easily achieve the vocal facility demanded by the tessitura of _manon_ or _faust_ and change to the darker-hued phrases demanded in _carmen_ or _butterfly_. but the open secret of all success is patient, never-ending, conscientious _work_, with a forceful emphasis on the _work_. [illustration: johanna gadski.] mme. johanna gadski biographical mme. gadski was born at anclam, prussia, june , . her studies in singing were principally with mme. schroeder-chaloupha. when she was ten years old she sang successfully in concert at stettin. her operatic début was made in berlin, in , in weber's _der freischütz_. she then appeared in the opera houses of bremen and mayence. in dr. walter damrosch organized his opera company in new york and engaged mme. gadski for leading rôles. in she became high dramatic soprano with the metropolitan opera company in new york, and the following year appeared at covent garden. she was constantly developing as a singer of wagner rôles, notably _brunhilde_ and _isolde_. her repertoire included forty rôles in all, and the demand for her appearance at festivals here and abroad became more and more insistent. she sang at the metropolitan opera house in new york until , when the notoriety caused by the activities of her husband, captain hans tauscher, american agent for large german weapon manufacturers, forced her to resign. mme. gadski made a close study of the schumann songs for years; and the following can not fail to be of artistic assistance to the singer. the master songs of robert schumann mme. johanna gadski robert schumann's lyric gift one cannot delve very far into the works of schumann without discovering that his gifts are peculiarly lyric. his melodic fecundity is all the more remarkable because of his strong originality. even in many of his piano pieces, such as _warum?_, _träumerei_ or the famous _slumber song_, the lyric character is evident. beautiful melodies which seem to lend themselves to the peculiar requirements of vocal music crop up every now and then in all his works. this is by no means the case with many of the other great masters. in some of beethoven's songs, for instance, one can never lose sight of the fact that they are instrumental pieces. it was schumann's particular privilege to be gifted with the acute sense of proportion which enabled him to estimate just what kind of an accompaniment a melody should have. naturally some of his songs stand out far above others; and in these the music lover and vocal student will notice that there is usually a beautiful artistic balance between the accompaniment and the melody. another characteristic is the sense of propriety with which schumann connected his melodies with the thought of the poems he employed. this is doubtless due to the extensive literary training he himself enjoyed. it was impossible for a man of schumann's life experience to apply an inappropriate melody to any given poem. with some song writers, this is by no means the case. the music of one song would fit almost any other set of words having the same poetic metre. schumann was continually seeking after a distinctive atmosphere, and this it is which gives many of his works their lasting charm. the intimate and delicate character of schumann songs most of the greater schumann songs are of a deliciously ultimate and delicate character. by this no one should infer that they are weak or spineless. schumann was a deep student of psychology and of human life. in the majority of cases he eschewed the melodramatic. it is true that we have at least one song, _the two grenadiers_, which is melodramatic in the extreme; but this, according to the greatest judges, is not schumann at his best. it was the particular delight of schumann to take some intense little poem and apply to it a musical setting crowded full of deep poetical meaning. again, he liked to paint musical pastels such as _im wunderschönen monat mai_, _frühlingsnacht_ and _der nussbaum_. these songs are redolent with the fragrance of out-of-doors. there is not one jarring note. the indefinable beauty and inspiration of the fields and forests have been caught by the master and imprisoned forever in this wonderful music. _im wunderschönen monat mai_, which comes from the _dichterliebe_ cycle, is indescribably delicate. it should be sung with great lightness and simplicity. any effort toward a striving for effect would ruin this exquisite gem. _frühlingsnacht_ with its wonderful accompaniment, which franz liszt thought so remarkable that he combined the melody and the accompaniment, with but slight alterations, and made a piano piece of the whole--is a difficult song to sing properly. if the singer does not catch the effervescent character of the song as a whole, the effect is lost. any "dragging" of the tones destroys the wonderful exuberance which schumann strove to connote. the balance between the singer and the accompanist must be perfect, and woe be to the singer who tries to sing _frühlingsnacht_ with a lumbering accompanist. _der nussbaum_ is one of the most effective and "thankful" of all the schumann songs. experienced public singers almost invariably win popular appreciation with this song. it is probably my favorite of all the schumann songs. here again delicacy and simplicity reign supreme. in fact simplicity in interpretation is the great requirement of all the art songs. the amateur singer seems to be continually trying to secure "effect" with these songs and the only result of this is affectation. if amateurs could only realize how hard the really great masters tried to avoid results that were to be secured by the cheap methods of "affectation" and "show," they would make their singing more simple. success in singing art songs comes through the ability of the artist to bring out the psychic, poetical and musical meaning of the song. there is no room for cheap vocal virtuosity. the great songs bear the sacred message of the best and finest in art. they represent the conscientious devotion of their composers to their loftiest ideals. i have mentioned three songs which are representative, but there are numberless other songs which reveal the intimate and personal character of schumann's works. one popular mistake regarding these songs which is quite prevalent is that of thinking that they can only be sung in tiny rooms and never in large auditoriums. time and again i have achieved some of the best results i have ever secured on the concert stage with delicate intimate works sung before audiences of thousands of people. the size of the auditorium has practically nothing to do with the song. the method of delivery is everything. if the song is properly and thoughtfully delivered, the audience, though it be one of thousands, will sit "quiet as mice" and listen reverently to the end. however, if one of these songs were to be sung in a flamboyant, bombastic manner, by some singer infected with the idea that in order to impress a multitude of people an exaggerated style is necessary, the results would be ruinous. if overdone, they are never appreciated. art is art. rembrandt in one of his master paintings exhibits just the right artistic balance. a copy of the same painting might become a mere daub, with a few twists of some bungling amateur's brush. let the young singer remember that the results that are the most difficult to get in singing the art song are not those by which she may hope to make a sensational impression by means of show, but those which depend first and always upon sincerity, simplicity and a deep study of the real meaning of the masterpiece. the love interest in the schumann songs up to the time schumann was thirty years of age ( ), his compositions were confined to works for the piano. these piano works include some of the very greatest and most inspired of his compositions for the instrument. in schumann married clara wieck, daughter of his former pianoforte teacher. this marriage was accomplished only after the most severe opposition imaginable upon the part of the irate father-in-law, who was loath to see his daughter, whom he had trained to be one of the foremost pianists of her sex, marry an obscure composer. the effect of this opposition was to raise schumann's affection to the condition of a kind of fanaticism. all this made a pronounced impression upon his art and seemed to make him long for expression through the medium of his love songs. he wrote to a friend at this time, "i am now writing nothing but songs great and small. i can hardly tell you how delightful it is to write for the voice, as compared with instrumental composition; and what a tumult and strife i feel within me as i sit down to it. i have brought forth quite new things in this line." in letters to his wife he is quite as impassioned over his song writing as the following quotations indicate: "since yesterday morning, i have written twenty-seven pages of music (something new of which i can tell you nothing more than that i have laughed and wept for joy in composing them). when i composed them my soul was within yours. without such a bride, indeed no one could write such music; once more i have composed so much that it seems almost uncanny. alas! i cannot help it: i could sing myself to death like a nightingale." during the first year of his marriage schumann wrote one hundred of the two hundred and forty-five songs that are attributed to him. in the published collections of his works, there are three songs attributed to schumann which are known to be from the pen of his talented wife. as in his piano compositions schumann avoided long pieces and preferred collections of comparatively short pieces, such as those in the _carnaval_, _kreisleriana_, _papillons_, so in his early works for the voice schumann chose to write short songs which were grouped in the form of cycles. seven of these cycles are particularly well known. they are here given together with the best known songs from each group. cycle songs _liederkreis_ {_ich wandelte unter den bäumen._ {_mit myrthen und rosen._ {_die lotusblume._ _myrthen_ {_lass mich ihm am busen hangen._ {_du bist wie eine blume._ {_der nussbaum._ _eichendorff liederkreis_ {_waldesgespräch._ {_frühlingsnacht._ {_wanderlust._ _kerner cycle_ {_frage._ {_stille thränen._ {_o, ring an meinem finger._ _frauenliebe und leben_ {_er, der herrlichste von allen._ {_ich grolle nicht._ _dichterliebe_ {_im wunderschönen mai._ {_ich hab' im traum geweinet._ {_three of the songs in this_ _liebesfrühling_ {_cycle are attributed to_ {_clara schumann._ critics seem to be agreed that schumann's talent gradually deteriorated as his mental disease increased. consequently, with but few exceptions his best song works are to be found among his early vocal compositions. i have tried repeatedly to bring forth some of the lesser known songs of schumann and have time and again devoted long periods to their study, but apparently the public, by an unmistakable indication of lack of approval, will have none of them. evidently, the songs by which schumann is now best known are his best works from the standpoint of popular appreciation. popular approval taken in the aggregate is a mighty determining factor. the survival of the fittest applies to songs as well as to other things in life. this is particularly so in the case of the four famous songs, _die beiden grenadiere_, _widmung_, _der nussbaum_ and _ich grolle nicht_, which never seem to diminish in popularity. schumann's love for the romantic schumann's fervid imagination readily led to a love for the romantic. his early fondness for the works of jean paul developed into a kind of life tendency, which resulted in winning him the title of the "tone-poet of romanticism." few of his songs, however, are really dramatic. _waldesgespräch_, which robert franz called a pianoforte piece with a voice part added, is probably the best of schumann's dramatic-romantic songs. i have always found that audiences are very partial to this song; and it may be sung by a female voice as well as the male voice. the _two grenadiers_ is strictly a man's song. _ich grolle nicht_, while sung mostly by men, may, like the _erl-king_ of schubert, be sung quite as successfully by women singers possessing the qualities of depth and dramatic intensity. peculiar difficulties in interpreting schumann songs i have already mentioned the necessity for simplicity in connection with the interpretation of the schumann songs. i need not tell the readers of these pages that the proper interpretation of these songs requires a much more extensive and difficult kind of preparatory work than the more showy coloratura works which to the novice often seem vastly more difficult. the very simplicity of the schubert and schumann songs makes them more difficult to sing properly than the works of writers who adopted a somewhat more complicated style. the smallest vocal discrepancies become apparent at once and it is only by the most intense application and great attention to detail that it is possible for the singer to bring her art to a standard that will stand the test of these simple, but very difficult works. too much coloratura singing is liable to rob the voice of its fullness and is not to be recommended as a preparation for the singer who would become a singer of the modern art songs. this does not mean that scales and arpeggios are to be avoided. in fact the flexibility and control demanded of the singers of art songs are quite as great as that required of the coloratura singer. the student must have her full quota of vocal exercises before she should think of attempting the schumann lieder. schumann's popularity in america americans seem to be particularly fond of schumann. when artists are engaged for concert performances it is the custom in this country to present optional programs to the managers of the local concert enterprises. these managers represent all possible kinds of taste. it is the experience of most concert artists that the schumann selections are almost invariably chosen. this is true of the west as well as of the south and east. one section of the program is without exception devoted to what they call classical songs and by this they mean the best songs rather than the songs whose chief claim is that they are from the old italian schools of carissimi, scarlatti, etc. i make it a special point to present as many songs as possible with english words. the english language is not a difficult language in which to sing; and when the translation coincides with the original i can see no reason why american readers who may not be familiar with a foreign tongue should be denied the privilege of understanding what the song is about. if they do not understand, why sing words at all? why not vocalize the melodies upon some vowel? songs, however, were meant to combine poetry and music; and unless the audience has the benefit of understanding both, it has been defrauded of one of its chief delights. some german poems, however, are almost untranslatable. it is for this reason that many of the works of löwe, for instance, have never attained wide popularity. the legends which löwe employed are often delightful, but the difficulties of translation are such that the original meaning is either marred or destroyed. the songs or ballads of löwe, without the words, do not seem to grasp american audiences and singers find it a thankless task to try to force them upon the public. i have been so long in america that i feel it my duty to share in popularizing the works of the many talented american composers. i frequently place macdowell's beautiful songs on my programs; and the works of many other american composers, including mrs. h. h. a. beach, sidney homer, frank le forge and others make fine concert numbers. it has seemed to me that america has a large future in the field of lyric composition. american poets have long since won their place in the international hall of fame. the lyrical spirit which they have expressed verbally will surely be imbued in the music of american composers. the opportunity is already here. americans demand the best the world can produce. it makes no difference what the nationality of the composer. however, americans are first of all patriotic; and the composer who produces real lyric masterpieces is not likely to be asked to wait for fame and competence, as did schubert and schumann. [illustration: mme. amelita galli-curci. © victor georg.] mme. amelita galli-curci biographical mme. galli-curci was born at milan, november th, , of a family distinguished in the arts and in the professions. she entered the milan conservatory, winning the first prize and diploma in piano playing in . for a time after her graduation she toured as a pianist and then resolved to become a singer. she is practically self-taught in the vocal art. her début was made in rome at the teatro constanzi, in the rôle of _gilda_ in _rigoletto_. she was pronouncedly successful from the very start. during the next six years she sang principally in italy, south america (three tours), and in spain, her success increasing with every appearance. in she appeared at chicago with the chicago opera company, creating a furore. the exceptionally beautiful records of her interpretations created an immense demand to hear her in concert, and her successes everywhere have been historic. not since patti has there been a singer upon whom such wide-spread critical comment has been made in praise of her exquisite velvety quality of tone, vocal technic and interpretative intelligence. hailed as "patti's only successor," she has met with greater popular success in opera and concert than any of the singers of recent years. in she married the gifted american composer, homer samuels, who for many years had been the pianist upon her tours. teaching yourself to sing mme. amelita galli-curci just what influence heredity may have upon the musical art and upon musicians has, of course, been a much discussed question. in my own case, i was fortunate in having a father who, although engaged in another vocation, was a fine amateur musician. my grandfather was a conductor and my grandmother was an opera singer of distinction in italy. like myself, she was a coloratura soprano, and i can recollect with joy her voice and her method of singing. even at the age of seventy-five her voice was wonderfully well preserved, because she always sang with the greatest ease and with none of the forced throat restrictions which make the work of so many singers insufferable. my own musical education began at the age of five, when i commenced to play the piano. meanwhile i sang around the house, and my grandmother used to say in good humor: "keep it up, my dear; perhaps some day you may be a better singer than i am." my father, however, was more seriously interested in instrumental music, and desired that i should become a pianist. how fortunate for me! otherwise, i should never have had that thorough musical drill which gave me an acquaintance with the art which i cannot believe could come in any other way. mascagni was a very good friend of our family and took a great interest in my playing. he came to our house very frequently, and his advice and inspiration naturally meant much to a young, impressionable girl. general education my general education was very carefully guarded by my father, who sent me to the best schools in milan, one of which was under the management of germans, and it was there that i acquired my acquaintance with the german language. i was then sent to the conservatorio, and graduated with a gold medal as a pianist. this won me some distinction in italy and enabled me to tour as a pianist. i did not pretend to play the big, exhaustive works, but my programs were made up of such pieces as the _abeg_ of schumann, studies by scharwenka, impromptus of chopin, the four scherzos of chopin, the first ballade, the nocturnes (the fifth in the book was my favorite) and works of bach. (of course, i had been through the wohltemperiertes clavier.) in those days i was very frail, and i had aspired to develop my repertoire so that later i could include the great works for the piano requiring a more or less exhaustive technic of the bravura type. once i went to hear busoni, and after the concert, came to me like a revelation, "you can never be such a pianist as he. your hand and your physical strength will not permit it." i went home in more or less sadness, knowing that despite the success i had had in my piano playing, my decision was a wise one. figuratively, i closed the lid of my piano upon my career as a pianist and decided to learn how to sing. the memory of my grandmother's voice singing bellini's _qui la voce_ was still ringing in my ears with the lovely purity of tone that she possessed. mascagni called upon us at that time, and i asked him to hear me sing. he did so, and threw up his hands, saying, "why in the world have you been wasting your time with piano playing when you have a natural voice like that? such voices are born. start to work at once to develop your voice." meanwhile, of course, i had heard a great deal of singing and a great deal of so-called voice teaching. i went to two teachers in milan, but was so dissatisfied with what i heard from them and from their pupils that i was determined that it would be necessary for me to develop my own voice. please do not take this as an inference that all vocal teachers are bad or are dispensable. my own case was peculiar. i had been saturated with musical traditions since my babyhood. i had had, in addition, a very fine musical training. of course, without this i could not have attempted to do what i did in the way of self-training. nevertheless, it is my firm conviction that unless the student of singing has in his brain and in his soul those powers of judging for himself whether the quality of a tone, the intonation (pitch), the shading, the purity and the resonance are what they should be to insure the highest artistic results, it will be next to impossible for him to secure these. this is what is meant by the phrase--"singers are born and not made." the power of discrimination, the judgment, etc., must be inherent. no teacher can possibly give them to a pupil, except in an artificial way. that, possibly, is the reason why so many students sing like parrots: because they have the power of mimicry, but nothing comes from within. the fine teacher can, of course, take a fine sense of tonal values, etc., and, provided the student has a really good natural voice, lead him to reveal to himself the ways in which he can use his voice to the best advantage. add to this a fine musical training, and we have a singer. but no teacher can give to a voice that velvety smoothness, that liquid fluency, that bell-like clarity which the ear of the educated musician expects, and which the public at large demands, unless the student has the power of determining for himself what is good and what is bad. four years of hard training it was no easy matter to give up the gratifying success which attended my pianistic appearances to begin a long term of self-study, self-development. yet i realized that it would hardly be possible for me to accomplish what i desired in less than four years. therefore, i worked daily for four years, drilling myself with the greatest care in scales, arpeggios and sustained tones. the colorature facility i seemed to possess naturally, to a certain extent; but i realized that only by hard and patient work would it be possible to have all my runs, trills, etc., so that they always would be smooth, articulate and free--that is, unrestricted--at any time. i studied the rôles in which i aspired to appear, and attended the opera faithfully to hear fine singing, as well as bad singing. as the work went on it became more and more enjoyable. i felt that i was upon the right path, and that meant everything. if i had continued as a pianist i could never have been more than a mediocrity, and that i could not have tolerated. about this time came a crisis in my father's business; it became necessary for me to teach. accordingly, i took a number of piano pupils and enjoyed that phase of my work very much indeed. i gave lessons for four years, and in my spare time worked with my voice, all by myself, with my friend, the piano. my guiding principles were: _there must be as little consciousness of effort in the throat as possible._ _there must always be the joy of singing._ _success is based upon sensation, whether it feels right to me in my mouth, in my throat, that i know, and nobody else can tell me._ i remember that my grandmother, who sang _una voce poco fa_ at seventy-five, always cautioned me to never force a single tone. i did not study exercises like those of concone, panofka, bordogni, etc., because they seemed to me a waste of time in my case. i did not require musical knowledge, but needed special drill. i knew where my weak spots were. what was the use of vocal studies which required me to do a lot of work and only occasionally touched those portions of my voice which needed special attention? learning a repertoire was a great task in itself, and there was no time to waste upon anything i did not actually need. because of the natural fluency i have mentioned, i devoted most of my time to slower exercises at first. what could be simpler than this? [illustration: musical notation: ex. ] these, of course, were sung in the most convenient range in my voice. the more rapid exercises i took from c to f above the treble staff. [illustration: musical notation: ex. ] even to this day i sing up to high f every day, in order that i may be sure that i have the tones to e below in public work. another exercise which i used very frequently was this, in the form of a trill. great care was taken to have the intonation (pitch) absolutely accurate in the rapid passages, as well as in the slow passages. [illustration: musical notation: ex. ] when i had reached a certain point, i determined that it might be possible for me to get an engagement. i was then twenty, and my dear mother was horrified at the idea of my going on the stage so young. she was afraid of evil influences. in my own mind i realized that evil was everywhere, in business, society, everywhere, and that if one was to keep out of dirt and come out dean, one must make one's art the object first of all. art is so great, so all-consuming, that any one with a deep reverence for its beauties, its grandeur, can have but little time for the lower things of life. all that an artist calls for in his soul is to be permitted to work at his best in his art. then, and then only, is he happiest. because of my mother's opposition, and because i felt i was strong enough to resist the temptations which she knew i might encounter, i virtually eloped with a copy of _rigoletto_ under my arm and made my way for the teatro constanzi, the leading opera house of rome. i might readily have secured letters from influential musical friends, such as mascagni and others, but i determined that it would be best to secure an engagement upon my own merits, if i could, and then i would know whether or not i was really prepared to make my début, or whether i had better study more. i went to the manager's office and, appealing to his business sense, told him that, as i was a young unknown singer, he could secure my services for little money, and begged for permission to sing for him. i knew he was beset by such requests, but he immediately gave me a hearing, and i was engaged for one performance of _rigoletto_. the night of the début came, and i was obliged to sing _caro nome_ again in response to a vociferous encore. this was followed by other successes, and i was engaged for two years for a south american tour, under the direction of my good friend and adviser, the great operatic director, mugnone. in south america there was enthusiasm everywhere, but all the time i kept working constantly with my voice, striving to perfect details. at the end of the south american tour i desired to visit new york and find out what america was like. because of the war europe was operatically impossible (it was ), but i had not the slightest idea of singing in the united states just then. by merest accident i ran into an american friend (mr. thorner) on broadway. he had heard me sing in italy, and immediately took me to maestro campanini, who was looking then for a coloratura soprano to sing for only two performances in chicago, as the remainder of his program was filled for the year. this was in the springtime, and it meant that i was to remain in new york until october and november. the opportunity seemed like an unusual accident of fate, and i resolved to stay, studying my own voice all the while to improve it more and more. october and the début in _rigoletto_ came. the applause astounded me; it was electric, like a thunderstorm. no one was more astonished than i. engagements and offers came from everywhere, but not enough, i hope, to ever induce me not to believe that in the vocal art one must continually strive for higher and higher goals. laziness, indifference and lassitude which come with success are the ruin of art and the artist. the normal healthy artist with the right ideals never reaches his zenith. if he did, or if he thought he did, his career would come to a sudden end. [illustration: mary garden. © mishkin.] mary garden biographical mary garden was born february th, , in aberdeen, scotland. she came to america with her parents when she was eight years of age and was brought up in chicopee, massachusetts, hartford, connecticut, and chicago, illinois. she studied the violin when she was six and the piano when she was twelve. it was the ambition of her parents to make her an instrumental performer. she studied voice with mrs. s. r. duff, who in time took her to paris and placed her under the instruction of trabadello and lucien fugére. her operatic début was made in charpentier's _louise_ at the opera comique in . her success was immediate both as an actress and as a singer. she was chosen by debussy and others for especially intricate rôles. she created the rôle of _melisande_; also, _fiammette_ in laroux's _la reine fiammette_. in she made her american début in _thaïs_ at the manhattan opera house in new york city. later she accepted leading rôles with the philadelphia-chicago opera co. she is considered by many the finest singing actress living--her histrionic gifts being in every way equal to her vocal gifts. in she was made the manager of the chicago opera company. the know how in the art of singing mary garden the modern opera singer cannot content herself merely with the "know how" of singing. that is, she must be able to know so much more than the mere elemental facts of voice production that it would take volumes to give an intimation of the real requirements. the girl who wants to sing in opera must have one thought and one thought only--"what will contribute to my musical, histrionic and artistic success?" unless the "career" comes first there is not likely to be any "career." i wonder if the public ever realizes what this sacrifice means to an artiste--to a woman. of course, there are great recompenses--the thrill that comes with artistic triumphs--the sensations that accompany achievement--who but the artist can know what this means--the joy of bringing to life some great masterpiece? music manifests itself in children at a very early age. it is very rare indeed that it comes to the surface later in life. i was always musical. only the media changed--one time it was violin, then piano, then voice. the dolls of my sisters only annoyed me because i could not tolerate dolls. they seemed a waste of time to me, and when they had paper dolls, i would go into the room when nobody was looking and cut the dolls' heads off. i have never been able to account for my delight in doing this. my father was musical. he wanted me to be a musician, but he had little thought at first of my being a singer. accordingly, at eight i was possessed of a fiddle. this meant more to me than all the dolls in the world. oh, how i loved that violin, which i could make speak just by drawing a bow over it! there was something worth while. i was only as big as a minute, and, of course, as soon as i could play the routine things of de beriot, variations and the like, i was considered one of those abominable things, "an infant prodigy." i was brought out to play for friends and any musical person who could stand it. then i gave a concert, and my father saw the finger of destiny pointing to my career as a great violinist. to me the finger of destiny pointed the other way; because i immediately sickened of the violin and dropped it forever. yes, i could play now if i had to, but you probably wouldn't want to hear me. ah, but i do play. i play every time i sing. the violin taught me the need for perfect intonation, fluency in execution, ever so many things. then came the piano. here was a new artistic toy. i worked very hard with it. my sister and i went back to aberdeen for a season of private school, and i kept up my piano until i could play acceptably many of the best-known compositions, grieg, chopin, etc., being my favorites. i was never a very fine pianist, understand me, but the piano unlocked the doors to thousands of musical treasure houses--admitted me to musical literature through the main gate, and has been of invaluable aid to me in my career. see my fingers, how long and thin they are--of course, i was a capable pianist--long, supple fingers, combined with my musical experience gained in violin playing, made that certain. then i dropped the piano. dropped it at once. its possibilities stood revealed before me, and they were not to be the limit of my ambitions. for the girl who hopes to be an operatic "star" there could be nothing better than a good drilling in violin or piano. the girl has no business to sing while she is yet a child--and she is that until she is sixteen or over. better let her work hard getting a good general education and a good musical education. the voice will keep, and it will be sweeter and fresher if it is not overused in childhood. once, with my heart set upon becoming a singer, my father fortunately took me to mrs. robinson duff, of chicago. to her, my mentor to this day, i owe much of my vocal success. i was very young and very emotional, with a long pigtail down my back. at first the work did not enrapture me, for i could not see the use of spending so much time upon breathing. now i realize what it did for me. what should the girl starting singing avoid? first, let her avoid an incompetent teacher. there are teachers, for instance, who deliberately teach the "stroke of the glottis" (coup de glotte). what is the stroke of the glottis? the lips of the vocal cords in the larynx are pressed together so that the air becomes compressed behind them and instead of coming out in a steady, unimpeded stream, it causes a kind of explosion. say the word "up" in the throat very forcibly and you will get the right idea. this is a most pernicious habit. somehow, it crept into some phases of vocal teaching, and has remained. it leads to a constant irritation of the throat and ruin to the vocal organs. when i went to paris, mrs. duff took me to many of the leading vocal teachers of the city, and said, "now, mary, i want you to use your own judgment in picking out a teacher, because if you don't like the teacher you will not succeed." thus we went around from studio to studio. one asked me to do this--to hum--to make funny, unnatural noises, anything but sing. finally, trabadello, now retired to his country home, really asked me to sing in a normal, natural way, not as a freak. i said to myself, "this is the teacher for me." i could not have had a better one. look out for teachers with freak methods--ten to one they are making you one of their experiments. there is nothing that any voice teacher has ever found superior to giving simple scales and exercises sung upon the syllables lah (ah, as in harbor), leh (eh, as in they), lee (ee, as in me). with a good teacher to keep watch over the breathing and the quality, "what more can one have?" i have always believed in a great many scales and in a great deal of singing florid rôles in italian. italian is inimitable for the singer. the dulcet, velvet-like character of the language gives something which nothing else can impart. it does not make any difference whether you purpose singing in french, german, english, russian or soudanese, you will gain much from exercising in italian. staccato practice is valuable. here is an exercise which i take nearly every day of my life: [illustration: musical notation] the staccato must be controlled from the diaphragm, however, and this comes only after a great deal of work. three-quarters of an hour a day practice suffices me. i find it injurious to practice too long. but i study for hours. such a rôle as _aphrodite_ i take quietly and sing it over mentally time and time again without making a sound. i study the harmonies, the nuances, the phrasing, the breathing, so that when the time for singing it comes i know it and do not waste my voice by going over it time and again, as some singers do. in the end i find that i know it better for this kind of study. the study of acting has been a very personal matter with me. i have never been through any courses of study, such as that given in dramatic schools. this may do for some people, but it would have been impossible for me. there must be technic in all forms of art, but it has always seemed to me that acting was one of the arts in which the individual must make his own technic. i have seen many representatives of the schools of acting here and abroad. sometimes their performances, based upon technical studies of the art, result in superb acting. again, their work is altogether indifferent. technic in acting is more likely to suppress than to inspire. if acting is not inspired, it is nothing. i study the human emotions that would naturally underlie the scene in which i am placed--then i think what one would be most likely to do under such conditions. when the actual time of appearance on the stage arrives, i forget all about this and make myself the person of the rôle. this is the italian method rather than the french. there are, to my mind, no greater actors living than duse and zacchona, and they are both exponents of the natural method that i employ. great acting has always impressed me wonderfully. i went from paris to london repeatedly to see beerbohm tree in his best rôles. sir herbert was not always uniformly fine, but he was a great actor and i learned much from watching him. once i induced debussy to make the trip to see him act. debussy was delighted. debussy! ah, what a rare genius--my greatest friend in art! everything he wrote we went over together. he was a terribly exacting master. few people in america realize what a transcendent pianist he was. the piano seemed to be thinking, feeling, vibrating while he was at the keyboard. time and again we went over his principal works, note for note. now and then he would stop and clasp his hands over his face in sudden silence, repeating, "it is all wrong--it is all wrong." but he was too good a teacher to let it go at that. he could tell me exactly what was wrong and how to remedy it. when i first sang for him, at the time when they were about to produce _pelleas and melisande_ at the opera comique, i thought that i had not pleased him. but i learned later that he had said to m. carré, the director: "don't look for anyone else." from that time he and his family became my close friends. the fatalistic side of our meeting seemed to interest him very much. "to think," he used to say, "that you were born in aberdeen, scotland, lived in america all those years and should come to paris to create my _melisande_!" as i have said, debussy was a gorgeous pianist. he could play with the greatest delicacy and could play in the leonine fashion of rubinstein. he was familiar with beethoven, bach, handel and the classics, and was devoted to them. wagner he could not abide. he called him a "griffe papier"--a scribbler. he thought that he had no importance in the world of music, and to mention wagner to him was like waving a red flag before a bull. it is difficult to account for such an opinion. wagner, to me, is the great tone colorist, the master of orchestral wealth and dramatic intensity. sometimes i have been so wagner-hungry that i have not known what to do. for years i went every year to munich to see the wonderful performances at the prinzregenten theater. in closing let me say that it seems to me a great deal of the failure among young singers is that they are too impatient to acquire the "know how." they want to blossom out on the first night as great prima donnas, without any previous experience. how ridiculous this is! i worked for a whole year at the opera comique, at $ a month, singing such a trying opera as _louise_ two and three times a week. when they raised me to $ a month i thought that i was rich, and when $ a month came, my fortune had surely been made! all this time i was gaining precious experience. it could not have come to me in any other way. as i have said, the natural school--the natural school, like that of the italians--stuffed as it is with glorious red blood instead of the white bones of technic in the misunderstood sense, was the only possible school for me. if our girls would only stop hoping to make a début at $ , a night and get down to real hard work, the results would come much quicker and there would be fewer broken hearts. mme. alma gluck biographical mme. alma gluck was born at jassy, roumania. her father played the violin, but was not a professional musician. at the age of six she was brought to america. she was taught the piano and sang naturally, but had no idea of becoming a singer. her vocal training was not begun until she was twenty years of age. her teacher, at that time, was signor buzzi-peccia, with whom she remained for three years, going directly from his studio to the metropolitan opera house of new york. she remained there for three years, when the immense success of her concert work drew her away from opera. she then studied with jean de reszke, and later with mme. sembrich for four or five years. since then she has appeared in all parts of the united states with unvarying success. her records have been among the most popular of any ever issued. together with her husband, efrem zimbalist, the distinguished violinist, she has appeared before immense audiences in joint recitals. [illustration: mme. alma gluck. © mishkin.] building a vocal repertoire alma gluck many seem surprised when i tell them that my vocal training did not begin until i was twenty years of age. it seems to me that it is a very great mistake for any girl to begin the serious study of singing before that age, as the feminine voice, in most instances, is hardly settled until then. vocal study before that time is likely to be injurious, though some survive it in the hands of very careful and understanding teachers. the first kind of a repertoire that the student should acquire is a repertoire of solfeggios. i am a great believer in the solfeggio. using that for a basis, one is assured of acquiring facility and musical accuracy. the experienced listener can tell at once the voice that has had such training. always remember that musicianship carries one much further than a good natural voice. the voice, even more than the hands, needs a kind of exhaustive technical drill. this is because in this training you are really building the instrument itself. in the piano, one has the instrument complete before he begins; but in the case of the voice, the instrument has to be developed and sometimes _made_ by study. when the pupil is practicing, tones grow in volume, richness and fluency. there are exercises by bordogni, concone, vaccai, lamperti, marchesi, panofka, panserson and many others with which i am not familiar, which are marvelously beneficial when intelligently studied. these i sang on the syllable "ah," and not with the customary syllable names. it has been said that the syllables do, re, mi, fa, etc., aid one in reading. to my mind, they are often confusing. go to the classics after a thorough drilling in solfeggios and technical exercises, i would have the student work on the operatic arias of bellini, rossini, donizetti, verdi, and others. these men knew how to write for the human voice! their arias are so vocal that the voice develops under them and the student gains vocal assurance. they were written before modern philosophy entered into music--when music was intended for the ear rather than for the mind. i cannot lay too much stress on the importance of using these arias. they are a tonic for the voice, and bring back the elasticity which the more subdued singing of songs taxes. when one is painting pictures through words, and trying to create atmosphere in songs, so much repression is brought into play that the voice must have a safety-valve, and that one finds in the bravura arias. here one sings for about fifty bars, "the sky is clouded for me," "i have been betrayed," or "joy abounds"--the words being simply a vehicle for the ever-moving melody. when hearing an artist like john mccormack sing a popular ballad it all seems so easy, but in reality songs of that type are the very hardest to sing and must have back of them years of hard training or they fall to banality. they are far more difficult than the limpid operatic arias, and are actually dangerous for the insufficiently trained voice. the lyric song repertoire then when the student has her voice under complete control, it is safe to take up the lyric repertoire of mendelssohn, old english songs, etc. how simple and charming they are! the works of the lighter french composers, hahn, massenet, chaminade, gounod, and others. then handel, haydn, mozart, löwe, schubert, schumann and brahms. later the student will continue with strauss, wolf, reger, rimsky-korsakoff, mousorgsky, borodin and rachmaninoff. then the modern french composers, ravel, debussy, georges, köchlin, hue, chausson, and others. i leave french for the last because it is, in many ways, more difficult for an english-speaking person to sing. it is so full of complex and trying vowels that it requires the utmost subtlety to overcome these difficulties and still retain clarity in diction. for that reason the student should have the advice of a native french coach. when one has traveled this long road, then he is qualified to sing english songs and ballads. american songs in this country we are rich in the quantity of songs rather than in the quality. the singer has to go through hundreds of compositions before he finds one that really says something. commercialism overwhelms our composers. they approach their work with the question, "will this go?" the spirit in which a work is conceived is that in which it will be executed. inspired by the purse rather than the soul, the mercenary side fairly screams in many of the works put out by every-day american publishers. this does not mean that a song should be queer or ugly to be novel or immortal. it means that the sincerity of the art worker must permeate it as naturally as the green leaves break through the dead branches in springtime. of the vast number of new american composers, there are hardly more than a dozen who seem to approach their work in the proper spirit of artistic reverence. art for art's sake, a farce nothing annoys me quite so much as the hysterical hypocrites who are forever prating about "art for art's sake." what nonsense! the student who deceives himself into thinking that he is giving his life like an ascetic in the spirit of sacrifice for art is the victim of a deplorable species of egotism. art for art's sake is just as iniquitous an attitude in its way as art for money's sake. the real artist has no idea that he is sacrificing himself for art. he does what he does for one reason and one reason only--he can't help doing it. just as the bird sings or the butterfly soars, because it is his natural characteristic, so the artist works. time and again a student will send me an urgent appeal to hear her, saying she is poor and wants my advice as to whether it is worth while to continue her studies. i invariably refuse such requests, saying that if the student could give up her work on my advice she had better give it up without it. one does not study for a goal. one sings because one can't help it! the "goal" nine times out of ten is a mere accident. art for art's sake is the mask of studio idlers. the task of acquiring a repertoire in these days, when the vocal literature is so immense, is so overwhelming, that the student with sense will devote all his energies to work, and not imagine himself a martyr to art. emilio de gogorza biographical emilio edoardo de gogorza was born in brooklyn, new york, may th, , of spanish parents. his boyhood was spent in spain, france and england. in the last named country he became a boy soprano and sang with much success. part of his education was received at oxford. he returned to america, where his vocal teachers were c. moderati and e. agramonte. his début was made in in a concert with mme. marcella sembrich. his rich fluent baritone voice made him a great favorite at musical festivals in america. he has sung with nearly all of the leading american orchestras. the peculiar quality of his voice is especially adapted to record making and his records have been immensely popular. he married emma eames, july th, . [illustration: emilio de gogorza. © dupont] opportunities for young concert singers emilio de gogorza there has never been a time or a country presenting more inviting opportunities to the concert and the oratorio singer than the america of to-day. as a corollary to this statement there is the obvious fact that the american public, taken as a whole, is now the most discriminating public to be found anywhere in the world. every concert is adequately reviewed by able writers; and singers are continually on their mettle. it therefore follows that while there are opportunities for concert and oratorio singers, there is no room for the inefficient, the talentless, brainless aspirants who imagine that a great vocal career awaits them simply because they have a few good tones and a pleasing stage presence. this is the age of the brain. in singing, the voice is only a detail. it is the mentality, the artistic feeling, the skill in interpretation that counts. some of the greatest artists are vocally inferior to singers of lesser reputation. why? because they read, because they study, because they broaden their intellects and extend their culture until their appreciation of the beautiful is so comprehensive that every degree of human emotion may be effectively portrayed. in a word they become artists. take the case of victor maurel, for instance. if he were ninety years old and had only the shred of a voice but still retained his artistic grasp, i would rather hear him than any living singer. i have learned more from hearing him sing than from any other singer. verdi chose him to sing in _otello_ against the advice of several friends, saying: "he has more brain than any five singers i know." some people imagine that when an artist is embarked upon his professional work study ceases. it is a great mistake. no one works harder than i do to broaden my culture and interpretative skill. i am constantly studying and trust that i may never cease. the greater the artist the more incessant the study. it is one of the secrets of large success. special study required for concert singing people imagine that the opera requires a higher kind of vocal preparation than the concert or oratorio stage. this is also a great misconception. the operatic singers who have been successful as concert singers at once admit that concert singing is much more difficult. comparatively few opera singers succeed as concert singers. why? because in opera the voice needs to be concentrated and more or less uniform. an opera house is really two buildings, the auditorium and the stage. the stage with its tall scene-loft is frequently as large from the standpoint of cubic feet as the auditorium. sometimes it is larger. to fill these two immense buildings the voice must be strong and continually concentrated, _dans le masque_. the delicate little effects that the concert singer is obliged to produce would not be heard over the footlights. in order to retain interest without the assistance of scenery and action the concert singer's interpretative work must be marked by an attention to details that the opera singer rarely considers. the voice, therefore, requires a different treatment. it must be so finely trained that it becomes susceptible to the most delicate change of thought in the singer's mind. this demands a really enormous amount of work. the successful concert singer must also have an endurance that enables her to undergo strains that the opera singer rarely knows. the grand opera singer in the great opera houses of the world rarely sings more than two or three times a week. the concert singer is often obliged to sing every night for weeks. they must learn how to relax and save the voice at all times, otherwise they will lose elasticity and sweetness. a young woman vocal student, with talent, a good natural voice, intelligence, industry, sufficient practice time, a high school education, and a knowledge of the rudiments of music, might complete a course of study leading to a successful concert début in three years. more frequently four or five years may be required. with a bungling teacher she may spend six or seven. the cost of her instruction, with a good teacher in a great metropolis, will be more per year than if she went to almost any one of the leading universities admitting women. she will have to work harder than if she took a regular college course. progress depends upon the individual. one girl will accomplish more in two years than another will accomplish in five years. again, the rate of progress depends upon personal development. sometimes a course of study with a good teacher will awaken a latent energy and mental condition that will enable the student to make great strides. my most important work has been done by self-study with the assistance and advice of many singers and teachers who have been my friends. no pupil who depends entirely upon a teacher will succeed. she must work out her own salvation. it is the private thought, incessant effort and individual attitude that lead to success. study in your home country i honestly believe that the young vocal student can do far better by studying in america than by studying abroad. european residence and travel are very desirable, but the study may be done to better advantage right here in our own country. americans want the best and they get it. in europe they have no conception whatever of the extent of musical culture in america. it is a continual source of amazement to me. in the west and northwest i find audiences just as intelligent and as appreciative as in boston. there is the greatest imaginable catholicity of taste. just at present the tendency is away from the old german classics and is leading to the modern works of french, german and american composers. still i find that i can sing a song like schumann's "widmung" in western cities that only a few years ago were mere collections of frontier huts and shacks, and discover that the genius of schumann is just as potent there as in new york city. i have recently been all over europe, and i have seen no such condition anywhere as that i have just described. it is especially gratifying to note in america a tremendous demand for the best vocal works of the american composers. the young concert singer must have a very comprehensive repertoire. every new work properly mastered is an asset. in oratorio she should first of all learn those works that are most in demand, like the _messiah_, the _elijah_, the _creation_ and the _redemption_. then attention may be given to the modern works and works more rarely performed, like those of elgar, perosi and others. after the young singer has proven her worth with the public she may expect an income of from $ , . to $ , . a year. that is what our first-class singers have received for high-class concert work. some european prima donnas like schumann-heink and others have commanded much higher figures. you ask me what influence the sound reproducing machines have had upon the demand for good vocal music in america. they have unquestionably increased the demand very greatly. they have even been known to make reputations for singers entirely without any other road to publicity. take the case of madame michaelowa, a russian prima donna who has never visited america. thousands of records of her voice have been sold in america, and now the demand for her appearance in this country has been so great that she has been offered huge sums for an american tour. i believe that if used intelligently the sound reproducing machine may become a great help to the teacher and student. it is used in many of the great opera houses of the world as an aid in determining the engagement of new singers who cannot be personally heard. some of the records of my own voice have been so excellent that they seem positively uncanny to me when i hear them reproduced. i have no patent exercises to offer to singing students. there are a thousand ways of learning to breathe properly and they all lead to one end. breathing may best be studied when it is made coincident with the requirements of singing. i have no fantastic technical studies to offer. my daily work simply consists of scales, arpeggios and the simplest kind of exercises, the simpler the better. i always make it a point to commence practicing very softly, slowly and surely. i never sing notes outside my most comfortable range at the start. taking notes too high or too low is an extremely bad plan at first. many young students make this fault. they also sing much too loud. the voice should be exercised for some considerable time on soft exercises before loud notes are even attempted. it is precisely the same as with physical exercises. the athlete who exerts himself to his fullest extent at first is working toward ultimate exhaustion. i have known students who sang "at the top of their lungs" and called it practice. the next day they grew hoarse and wondered why the hoarseness came. never sing when tired never sing when out of sorts, tired or when the throat is sore. it is all very well to try to throw such a condition off as if it were a state of mind. my advice is, don't. i have known singers to try to sing off a sore throat and secure as a result a loss of voice for several days. our american climate is very bad for singers. the dust of our manufacturing cities gets in the throat and irritates it badly. the noise is very nerve racking, and i have a theory that the electricity in the air is injurious. as i have said, the chances in the concert and operatic field are unlimited for those who deserve to be there. don't be misled. thousands of people are trying to become concert and oratorio singers who have not talent, temperament, magnetism, the right kind of intelligence nor the true musical feeling. it is pitiful to watch them. they are often deluded by teachers who are biased by pecuniary necessity. it is safe to say that at the end of a year's good instruction the teacher may safely tell what the pupil's chances are. some teachers are brutally frank. their opinions are worth those of a thousand teachers who consider their own interests first. secure the opinions of as many artists as possible before you determine upon a professional career. the artist is not biased. he does not want you for a pupil and has nothing to gain in praising you. if he gives you an unfavorable report, thank him, because he is probably thinking of your best interests. as i have said, progress depends upon the individual. one man can go into a steel foundry and learn more in two years than another can in five. if you do not become conscious of audible results at the end of one or two years' study do some serious thinking. you are either on the wrong track or you have not the natural qualifications which lead to success on the concert and oratorio stage. [illustration: mme. frieda hempel. © mitzi] frieda hempel biographical frieda hempel was born at leipzig, june , . she studied piano for a considerable time at the leipzig conservatory and the stern conservatory. later she studied singing with mme. nicklass kempner, to whom she is indebted for her entire vocal education up to the time of her début in opera. her first appearance was in the _merry wives of windsor_, at the royal opera in berlin. after many very successful appearances in leading european opera houses she was engaged for the metropolitan opera house in new york where she immediately became very popular in stellar rôles. her repertoire runs from the _marriage of figaro_ to _die meistersinger_. her voice is a clear, pure, sweet soprano; and, like mme. sembrich and mme. galli-curci, she clearly shows the value of her instrumental training in the accuracy, precision and clarity of her coloratura work. she has made many successful concert tours of the united states. in addition to being a brilliant singer she is an excellent actress. she is now an american citizen and the wife of an american business man. thoroughness in vocal preparation mme. frieda hempel why some succeed and some fail in every thousand girls who aspire to grand opera probably not more than one ever succeeds. this is by no means because of lack of good voices. there are great numbers of good voices; although many girls who want to be opera singers either deceive themselves or are deceived by others (often charlatan teachers) into believing that they have fine natural voices when they have not. there is nothing more glorious than a beautiful human voice--a voice strong, resonant, if necessary, but velvety and luscious if needs be. there are many girls with really beautiful natural voices who have lost their chances in grand opera largely because they have either not had the personal persistence necessary to carry them to the point where their services are in demand by the public or they have had the misfortune not to have the right kind of a vocal or musical drill master--a really good teacher. teachers in these days waste a fearful amount of time in what they consider to be their methods. they tell you to sing in the back, or on the side or through the mask or what not, instead of getting right down to the real work. my teacher in berlin, at the conservatory, insisted first of all upon having me sing tones and scales--mostly long sustained tones--for at least one entire year. these were sung very softly, very evenly, until i could employ every tone in my voice with sureness and certainty. i don't see how it could possibly have been accomplished in less time. try that on the american girl and she will think that she is being cheated out of something. why should she wait a whole year with silly tones when she knows that she can sing a great aria with only a little more difficulty? the basis of all fine singing, whether in the opera house or on the concert stage, is a good legato. my teacher (nicklass kempner) was very insistent upon this. in working with such studies as those of concone, bordogni, lütgen, marchesi or garcia--the best part of the attention of the teacher was given to the simple yet difficult matter of a beautiful legato. after one has been through a mass of such material, the matter of legato singing becomes more or less automatic. the tendency to slide from one tone to another is done away with. the connection between one tone and another in good legato is so clean, so free from blurs that there is nothing to compare it with. one tone takes the place of another just as though one coin or disk were placed directly on top of another without any of the edges showing. the change is instantaneous and imperceptible. if one were to gradually slide one coin over another coin you would have a graphic illustration of what most people think is legato. the result is that they sound like steam sirens, never quite definitely upon any tone of the scale. a good legato a good legato can only be acquired after an enormous amount of thorough training. the tendency to be careless is human. habits of carefulness come only after much drill. the object of the student and the teacher should be to make a singer--not to acquire a scanty repertoire of a few arias. very few of the operas i now sing were learned in my student days. that was not the object of my teacher. the object was to prepare me to take up anything from _martha_ to _rosenkavalier_ and know how to study it myself in the quickest and most thorough manner. woe be to the pupil of the teacher who spends most of the time in teaching songs, arias, etc., before the pupil is really ready to study such things. good foundations everything is in a good foundation. if you expect a building to last only a few weeks you might put up a foundation in a day or so--but if you watch the builders of the great edifices here in american cities you will find that more time is often spent upon the foundation than upon the building itself. they dig right down to the bed rock and pile on so much stone, concrete and steel that even great earthquakes are often withstood. a large repertoire with such a thorough foundation as i had it has not been difficult to acquire a repertoire of some seventy-five operas. that is, by learning one at a time and working continually over a number of years the operas come easily. in learning a new work i first read the work through as a whole several times to get the character well fixed in my mind. then i play the music through several times until i am very familiar with it. then i learn the voice part, never studying it as a voice part by itself, but always in relation to the orchestra and the other rôles. finally, i learn the interpretation--the dramatic presentation. one gets so little help from the orchestra in modern works that many rehearsals are necessary. in some passages it is just like walking in a dark night. only a true ear and thorough training can serve to keep one on the key or anywhere near the key. it is therefore highly necessary that vocal students should have a good musical training in addition to the vocal training. in most european conservatories the study of piano and harmony are compulsory for all vocal students. not to have had this musical training that the study of the piano brings about, not to have had a good course in theory or in training for sight-singing (ear training) is to leave out important pillars in a thorough musical foundation. more opera for america it would be a great gratification for all who are interested in opera to see more fine opera houses erected in america with more opportunities for the people. the performances at the metropolitan are exceedingly fine, but only a comparatively few people can possibly hear them and there is little opportunity for the performance of a wide variety of operas. the opera singer naturally gets tired of singing a few rôles over and over again. the american people should develop a taste for more and more different operas. there is such a wonderful field that it should not be confined to the performance of a very few works that happen to be in fashion. this is not at all the case in europe--there the repertoires are very much more extensive--more interesting for the public and the artists alike. strong educational value of opera opera has always seemed to me a very necessary thing in the state. it has a strong educational value in that it develops the musical taste of the public as well as teaching lessons in history and the humanities in a very forceful manner. children should be taken to opera as a regular part of their education. opera makes a wonderful impression upon the child's imagination--the romance, the color, the music, the action are rarely forgotten. many of the operas are beautiful big fairy stories and the little folks glory in them. parents who desire to develop the taste of their children and at the same time stimulate their minds along broader lines can do no better than to take them to opera. little towns in europe often have fine opera houses, while many american cities several times their size have to put up with moving picture theatre houses. why does not some enthusiastic american leader take up a campaign for more opera in america? with the taste of the public educated through countless talking machine records, it should not prove a bad business venture if it is gone about in a sensible manner. dame nellie melba biographical dame nellie melba (stage name for mrs. nellie porter armstrong, née mitchell) is described in grove's dictionary as "the first singer of british birth to attain such an exalted position upon the lyric stage as well as upon the concert platform." dame melba was born at burnley near melbourne, may , , of scotch ancestry. she sang at the town hall at richmond when she was six years of age. she studied piano, harmony, composition and violin very thoroughly. at one time she was considered the finest amateur pianist in melbourne. she also played the church organ in the local church with much success. in she married captain charles armstrong, son of sir andrew armstrong, baronet (of kings county, ireland). in she sang at queens hall in london. after studying with mme. marchesi for twelve months she made her début as gilda (_rigoletto_) at the théâtre de la monnaie in brussels. her success was instantaneous. her london début was made in _lucia_ in . one year later she made her parisian début in thomas' _hamlet_. in she created the rôle of nedda in _i pagliacci_. petrograd "went wild" over her in . in she repeated her successes and in she began her long series of american triumphs. the fact that her voice, like that of patti, has remained astonishingly fresh and silvery despite the enormous amount of singing she has done attests better than anything else to the excellence of her method of singing. in the following conference she gives the secret of preserving the voice. [illustration: dame nellie melba.] common sense in training and preserving the voice dame nellie melba how can a good voice be detected? the young singer's first anxiety is usually to learn whether her voice is sufficiently good to make it worth while to go through the enormous work of preparing herself for the operatic stage. how is she to determine this? surely not upon the advice of her immediate friends, nor upon that of those to whom she would naturally turn for spiritual advice, medical advice or legal advice. but this is usually just what she does. because of the honored positions held by her rector, her physician, or her family lawyer, their services are all brought to bear upon her, and after an examination of her musical ability their unskilled opinion is given a weight it obviously does not deserve. the only one to judge is a skilled musician, with good artistic taste and some experience in voice matters. it is sometimes difficult to approach a singing teacher for this advice, as even the most honest could not fail to be somewhat influenced where there is a prospect of a pupil. i do not mean to malign the thousands of worthy teachers, but such a position is a delicate one, and the pupil should avoid consulting with any adviser except one who is absolutely disinterested. in any event the mere possession of a voice that is sweet and strong by no means indicates that the owner has the additional equipment which the singer must possess. musical intelligence is quite as great an asset as the possession of a fine voice. by musical intelligence i mean something quite different from general intelligence. people seem to expect that the young person who desires to become a fine pianist or a fine violinist, or a fine composer, should possess certain musical talents. that is, they should experience a certain quickness in grasping musical problems and executing them. the singer, however, by some peculiar popular ruling seems to be exempted from this. no greater mistake could possibly be made. very few people are musically gifted. when one of these people happens to possess a good voice, great industry, a love for vocal art, physical strength, patience, good sense, good taste and abundant faith in her possibilities, the chances of making a good singer are excellent. i lay great stress upon great determination and good health. i am often obliged to sing one night, then travel a thousand miles to sing the next night. notwithstanding such journeys, the singer is expected to be in prime condition, look nice, and please a veritable multitude of comparative strangers all expecting wonderful things from her. do you wonder that i lay stress upon good health? the youthful training of the singer should be confined quite strictly to that of obtaining a good general and musical education. that is, the vocal training may be safely postponed until the singer is seventeen or eighteen years of age. of course there have been cases of famous singers who have sung during their childhood, but they are exceptions to all rules. the study of singing demands the direction of an intelligent, well-ordered mind. it is by no means wholly a matter of imitation. in fact, without some cultivation of the taste, that is, the sense of discriminating between what is good and bad, one may imitate with disastrous results. what work should the girl under eighteen do? i remember well an incident in my own youth. i once went to a concert and heard a much lauded singer render an aria that was in turn vociferously applauded by the audience. this singer possessed a most wonderful tremolo. every tone went up and down like the teeth of a saw. it was impossible for her to sing a pure even tone without wobbling up and down. but the untrained audience, hungry to applaud anything musical, had cheered the singer despite the tremolo. consequently i went home and after a few minutes' work i found that it was possible for me to produce a very wonderful tremolo. i went proudly to my teacher and gave an exhibition of my new acquirement. "who on earth have you been listening to?" exclaimed my teacher. i confessed and was admonished not to imitate. the voice in childhood is a very delicate organ despite the wear and tear which children give it by unnecessary howling and screaming. more than this, the child-mind is so susceptible to impressions and these impressions become so firmly fixed that the best vocal training for the child should be that of taking the little one to hear great singers. all that the juvenile mind hears is not lost, although much will be forgotten. however, the better part will be unconsciously stowed away in the subconscious mind, to burst forth later in beautiful song through no different process than that by which the little birds store away the song of the older birds. dealers in singing birds place them in rooms with older and highly developed singing birds to train them. this is not exactly a process of imitation, but rather one of subconscious assimilation. the bird develops his own song later on, but has the advantage of the stored-up impressions of the trained birds. a general musical training i have known many singers to fail dismally because they were simply singers. the idea that all the singer needs to know is how to produce tones resonantly and sweetly, how to run scales, make gestures and smile prettily is a perfectly ridiculous one. success, particularly operatic success, depends upon a knowledge of a great many things. the general education of the singer should be as well rounded as possible. nothing the singer ever learns in the public schools, or the high schools, is ever lost. history and languages are most important. i studied italian and french in my childhood and this knowledge was of immense help to me in my later work. when i first went to paris i had to acquire a colloquial knowledge of the language, but in all cases i found that the drill in french verbs i had gone through virtually saved me years of work. the french pronunciation is extremely difficult to acquire and some are obliged to reside in france for years before a fluent pronunciation can be counted on. i cannot speak too emphatically upon the necessity for a thorough musical education. a smattering is only an aggravation. fortunately, my parents saw to it that i was taught the piano, the organ, the violin and thoroughbass. at first it was thought that i would become a professional pianist; and many were good enough to declare that i was the finest amateur pianist in melbourne. my scotch-presbyterian parents would have been horrified if they had had any idea that they were helping me to a career that was in any way related to the footlights. fortunately, my splendid father, who is now eighty-five years old, has long since recovered from his prejudices and is the proudest of all over my achievements. but i can not be too grateful to him for his great interest in seeing that my early musical training was comprehensive. aside from giving me a more musicianly insight into my work, it has proved an immense convenience. i can play any score through. i learn all my operas myself. this enables me to form my own conception, that is, to create it, instead of being unconsciously influenced by the tempos and expression of some other individual. the times that i have depended upon a _repititeur_ have been so few that i can hardly remember them. so there, little girl, when you get on your mother's long train and sing to an imaginary audience of thousands, you will do better to run to the keyboard and practice scales or study your études. the first vocal practice the first vocal practice should be very simple. there should be nothing in the way of an exercise that would encourage forcing of any kind. in fact the young singer should always avoid doing anything beyond the normal. remember that a sick body means a sick voice. again, don't forget your daily outdoor exercise. horseback riding, golf and tennis are my favorites. an hour's walk on a lovely country road is as good for a singer as an hour's practice. i mean that. in avoiding strain the pupil must above all things learn to sing the upper notes without effort or rather strain. while it is desirable that a pupil should practice all her notes every day, she should begin with the lower notes, then take the middle notes and then the so-called upper notes or head notes which are generally described as beginning with the f sharp on the top line of the treble staff. this line may be regarded as a danger line for singers young and old. it is imperative that when the soprano sings her head notes, beginning with f sharp and upward, they shall proceed very softly and entirely without strain as they ascend. i can not emphasize this too strongly. preserving the voice let me give you one of my greatest secrets. like all secrets, it is perfectly simple and entirely rational. _never give the public all you have._ that is, the singer owes it to herself never to go beyond the boundaries of her vocal possibilities. the singer who sings to the utmost every time is like the athlete who exhausts himself to the state of collapse. this is the only way in which i can account for what the critics term "the remarkable preservation" of my own voice. i have been singing for years in all parts of the musical world, growing richer in musical and human experience and yet my voice to-day feels as fresh and as dear as when i was in my teens. i have never strained, i have never continued rôles that proved unsuited to me, i have never sung when i have not been in good voice. this leads to another very important point. i have often had students ask me how they can determine whether their teachers are giving them the kind of method or instruction they should have. i have always replied, "if you feel tired after a lesson, if your throat is strained after a little singing, if you feel exhausted, your teacher is on the wrong track, no matter what he labels his method or how wonderful his credentials are." isn't that very simple? i have known young girls to go on practicing until they couldn't speak. let them go to a physician and have the doctor show them by means of a laryngoscope just how tender and delicate their vocal organs are. i call them my "little bits of cotton"; they seem so frail and so tiny. do you wonder that i guard them carefully? this practice consists of the simplest imaginable exercises--sustained scales, chromatic scales and trills. it is not so much _what_ one practices, but _how_ one practices. is the art of singing dying out? we continually hear critics complain that the art of singing is dying. it is easy enough to be a pessimist, and i do not want to class myself with the pessimists; but i can safely say that, unless more attention is paid to the real art of singing, there must be a decadence in a short time. by this i mean that the voice seems to demand a kind of exercise leading to flexibility and fluent tone production that is not found in the ultra-dramatic music of any of the modern composers. young singers begin with good voices and, after an altogether inadequate term of preparation, they essay the works of strauss and wagner. in two years the first sign of a breakup occurs. their voices become rough,--the velvet vanishes and note after note "breaks" disagreeably. the music of the older italian composers, from scarlatti or carissimi to donizetti and bellini, despite the absurd libretti of their operas, demanded first of all dulcet tones and limpid fluency. the singers who turned their noses up at the florid arabesques of old italy for the more rugged pageantry of modern germany are destined to suffer the consequences. let us have the masterpieces of the heroic teutons, by all means, but let them be sung by vocalists trained as vocalists and not merely by actors who have only taken a few steps in vocal art. the main point of all operatic work must be observed if opera is to continue successfully. delibes chose me to sing a performance of his _lakmé_ at brussels. it was to be my début in french. i had not then mastered the french pronunciation so that i could sing acceptably at the paris grand opera, the scene of my later triumphs. consequently i was permitted to sing in brussels. there the directors objected to my pronunciation, calling it "abominable." delibes replied, "_qu'elle chante en chinois, si elle veut, mais qu'elle chante mon opera_" ("even if she sang in chinese, i would be glad to have her sing my opera"). i am asked what has been my greatest incentive. i can think of nothing greater than opposition. the early opposition from my family made me more and more determined to prove to them that i would be successful. if i heard some singer who sang successfully the rôles i essayed, then i would immediately make up my mind to excel that singer. this is a human trait i know; but i always profited by it. never be afraid of competition or opposition. the more you overcome, the greater will be your ultimate triumph. mme. bernice de pasquali biographical mme. bernice de pasquali, who succeeded marcella sembrich as coloratura soprano at the metropolitan opera house in new york city, is not an italian, as her name suggests, but an american. she was born in boston and is a member of the daughters of the american revolution. practically all of her musical training was received in new york city where she became a pupil of oscar saenger. her successes, however, are not limited to america as she has appeared in mexico, cuba, south africa and europe, in many places receiving great ovations. her voice is a clear, high, flexible soprano, equally fine for concert or opera. her husband, signor pasquali, made a lifetime study of the principles of the "bel canto" school of singing, and the following conference is the result of long experiment and study in the esthetic, philosophical and physiological factors in the most significant of the so-called methods of voice training. [illustration: mme. bernice de pasquali.] secrets of bel canto mme. bernice de pasquali centuries of experimental experience in no land is song so much a part of the daily life of the individual as in italy. the italian peasant literally wakes up singing and goes to bed singing. naturally a kind of respect, honor and even reverence attaches to the art of beautiful voice production in the land of scarlatti, palestrina and verdi, that one does not find in other countries. when the italian singing teachers looked for a word to describe their vocal methods they very naturally selected the most appropriate, "bel canto," which means nothing more or less than "beautiful singing." probably no words have been more abused in music teaching than "bel canto," and probably no words have a more direct meaning or a wider significance. what then is "good singing" as the italians understand it? principally the production of a perfectly controlled and exquisitely beautiful tone. simple as this may seem and simple as it really is, the laws underlying the best way of teaching how to secure a beautiful tone are the evolution of empirical experiences coming down through the centuries. it is a significant fact that practically all of the great singers in wagner rôles have first been trained in what is so loosely termed "bel canto" methods. lilli lehmann, schumann-heink, nordica and others were capable of singing fine coloratura passages before they undertook the works of the great master of beyreuth. the secret of conserving the voice in the mass of traditions, suggestions and advice which go to make the "bel canto" style, probably nothing is so important to american students as that which pertains to conserving the voice. whether our girls are inordinately fond of display or whether they are unable to control their vocal organs i do not know, but one is continually treated to instances of the most ludicrous prodigality of voice. the whole idea of these young singers seems to be to make a "hit" by shouting or even screeching. there can be no milder terms for the straining of the tones so frequently heard. this prodigality has only one result--loss of voice. the great rubini once wrote to his friend, the tenor duprez, "you lost your voice because you always sang with your capital. i have kept mine because i have used only the interest." this historical epigram ought to be hung in all the vocal studios of america. our american voices are too beautiful, too rare to be wasted, practically thrown away by expending the capital before it has been able to earn any interest. moreover, the thing which has the most telling effect upon any audience is the beauty of tone quality. people will stop at any time to listen to the wonderful call of the nightingale. in some parts of europe it is the custom to make parties to go at nights to the woods to hear that wonderful singer of the forests. did you ever hear of any one forming a party for the express purpose of listening to the crowing of a rooster? one is a treat to the ear, the other is a shock. when our young singers learn that people do not attend concerts to have their ears shocked but to have them delighted with beautiful sound, they will be nearer the right idea in voice culture. the student's first effort, then, should be to preserve the voice. from the very first lesson he must strive to learn how to make the most with little. how is the student to know when he is straining the voice? this is simple enough to ascertain. at the very instant that the slightest constriction or effort is noticed strain is very likely to be present. much of this depends upon administering exactly the right amount of breath to the vocal cords at the moment of singing. too much breath or too little breath is bad. the student finds by patient experiment under the direction of the experienced teacher just how much breath to use. all sorts of devices are employed to test the breath, but it is probable that the best devices of all are those which all singers use as the ultimate test, the ear and the feeling of delightful relaxation surrounding the vocal organs during the process of singing. courage in singing much of the student's early work is marred by fear. he fears to do this and he fears to do that, until he feels himself walled in by a set of rules that make his singing stilted. from the very start the singer, particularly the one who aspires to become an operatic singer, should endeavor to discard fear entirely. think that if you fail in your efforts, thousands of singers have failed in a similar manner in their student days. success in singing is at the end of a tall ladder, the rungs of which are repeated failures. we climb up over our failures to success. learn to fear nothing, the public least of all. if the singer gives the audience the least suspicion that she is in fear of their verdict, the audience will detect it at once and the verdict will be bad. also do not fear the criticism of jealous rivals. affirm success. say to yourself, "i will surely succeed if i persevere." in this way you will acquire those habits of tranquillity which are so essential for the singer to possess. the reason for the lack of well-trained voices there are abundant opportunities just now for finely trained singers. in fact there is a real dearth of "well-equipped" voices. managers are scouring the world for singers with ability as well as the natural voice. why does this dearth exist? simply because the trend of modern musical work is far too rapid. results are expected in an impossible space of time. the pupil and the maestro work for a few months and, lo and behold! a prima donna! can any one who knows anything about the art of singing fail to realize how absurd this is? more voices are ruined by this haste than by anything else. it is like expecting the child to do the feats of the athlete without the athlete's training. there are singers in opera now who have barely passed the, what might be called, rudimentary stage. with the decline of the older operas, singers evidently came to the conclusion that it was not necessary to study for the perfection of tone-quality, evenness of execution and vocal agility. the modern writers did not write such fioratura passages, then why should it be necessary for the student to bother himself with years of study upon exercises and vocalises designed to prepare him for the operas of bellini, rossini, spontini, donizetti, scarlatti, carissimi or other masters of the florid school? what a fatuous reasoning. are we to obliterate the lessons of history which indicate that voices trained in such a school as that of patti, jenny lind, sembrich, lehmann, malibran, rubini and others, have phenomenal endurance, and are able to retain their freshness long after other voices have faded? no, if we would have the wonderful vitality and longevity of the voices of the past we must employ the methods of the past. the delicate nature of the human voice of all instruments the human voice is by far the most delicate and the most fragile. the wonder is that it will stand as much "punishment" as is constantly given to it. some novices seem to treat it with as little respect as though it were made out of brass like a tuba or a trombone. the voice is subject to physical and psychical influences. every singer knows how acutely all human emotions are reflected in the voice; at the same time all physical ailments are immediately active upon the voice of the singer. there is a certain freshness or "edge" which may be worn off the voice by ordinary conversation on the day of the concert or the opera. some singers find it necessary to preserve the voice by refraining from all unnecessary talking prior to singing. long-continued practice is also very bad. an hour is quite sufficient on the day of the concert. during the first years of study, half an hour a day is often enough practice. more practice should only be done under special conditions and with the direction of a thoroughly competent teacher. singing in the open air, when particles of dust are blowing about, is particularly bad. the throat seems to become irritated at once. in my mind tobacco smoke is also extremely injurious to the voice, notwithstanding the fact that some singers apparently resist its effects for years. i once suffered severely from the effects of being in a room filled with tobacco smoke and was unable to sing for at least two months. i also think that it is a bad plan to sing immediately after eating. the peristaltic action of the stomach during the process of digestion is a very pronounced function and anything which might tend to disturb it might affect the general health. the singer must lead an exceedingly regular life, but the exaggerated privations and excessive care which some singers take are quite unnecessary. the main thing is to determine what is a normal life and then to live as close to this as possible. if you find that some article of diet disagrees with you, remember to avoid that food; for an upset stomach usually results in complete demoralization of the entire vocal system. some practice suggestions no matter how great the artist, daily practice, if even not more than forty minutes a day, is absolutely necessary. there is a deep philosophical and physiological principle underlying this and it applies particularly to the vocal student. each minute spent in intelligent practice makes the voice better and the task easier. the power to do comes with doing. part of each day's practice should be devoted to singing the scale softly and slowly with perfect intonation. every tone should be heard with the greatest possible acuteness. the ears should analyze the tone quality with the same scrutiny with which a botanist would examine the petals of a newly discovered specimen. as the singer does this he will notice that his sense of tone color will develop; and this is a very vital part of every successful singer's equipment. he will become aware of beauties as well as defects in his voice which may never have been even suspected if he will only listen "microscopically" enough. much of the singer's progress depends upon the mental model he keeps before him. the singer who constantly hears the best of singing naturally progresses faster than one surrounded by inferior singing. this does not recommend that the student should imitate blindly but that he should hear as much fine singing as possible. those who have not the means to attend concerts and the opera may gain immensely from hearing fine records. little adelina patti, playing as a child on the stage of the old academy of music in new york, was really attending the finest kind of a conservatory unawares. the old italian teachers and writers upon voice, knowing the florid style in which their pupils would be expected to sing, did not have much to do with fanciful exercises. they gave their lives to the quest of the "bel canto"; and many of them had difficulty in convincing their pupils that the simplest exercises were often the hardest. take for instance this invaluable scale exercise sung with the marks of expression carefully observed. this exercise is one of the most difficult to sing properly. nevertheless, some student will rush on to florid exercises before he can master this exercise. to sing it right it must be regarded with almost devotional reverence. indeed, it may well be practiced diligently for years. every tone is a problem, a problem which must be solved in the brain and in the body of the singer and not in the mind of any teacher. the student must hold up every tone for comparison with his ideal tone. every note must ring sweet and clear, pure and free. every tone must be even more susceptible to the emotions than the expression upon the most mobile face. every tone must be made the means of conveying some human emotion. some singers practice their exercises in such a perfunctory manner that they get as a result voices so stiff and hard that they sound as though they came from metallic instruments which could only be altered in a factory instead of from throats lined with a velvet-like membrane. [illustration: musical notation: sing with great attention to intonation.] flexibility, mobility and susceptibility to expression are quite as important as mere sweetness. after the above exercise has been mastered the pupil may pass to the chromatic scale (scala semitonata sostenuto); and this scale should be sung in the same slow sustained manner as the foregoing illustration. mme. marcella sembrich biographical mme. marcella sembrich (praxede marcelline kochanska) was born in wisnewczyk, galicia, february , . sembrich was her mother's name. her father was a music teacher and she tells with pleasure how she watched her father make a little violin for her to practice upon. at the age of seven she was taken to wilhelm stengel at lemberg for further instruction. later she went to study with the famous pedagogue, julius epstein, at vienna, who was amazed by the child's prodigious talent as a pianist and as a violinist. he asked, "is there anything else she can do?" "yes," replied stengel, "i think she can sing." sing she did; and epstein was not long in determining that she should follow the career of the singer. her other teachers were victor rokitansky, richard lewy and g. b. lamperti and a few months with the elder francesco lamperti. her début was made in athens in , in _i puritani_. thereafter she toured all of the european art centers with invariable success. her first american appearance was in . she came again in and for years sang with immense success in all parts of america. america has since become her home, where she has devoted much time to teaching. [illustration: mme. marcella sembrich. © dupont.] how fortunes are wasted in vocal education mme. marcella sembrich every one who can should learn to sing few accomplishments are more delight-giving than that of being able to sing. i would most enthusiastically advise anyone possessing a fair voice to have it trained by some reliable singing teacher. european peoples appreciate the great privilege of being able to sing for their own amusement, and the pleasure they get from their singing societies is inspiring. if americans took more time for the development of accomplishments of this kind their journey through life would be far more enjoyable and perhaps more profitable. i believe that all should understand the art of singing, if only to become amateurs. that music makes the soul more beautiful i have not the least doubt. because some musicians have led questionable lives does not prove the contrary. what might these men have been had they not been under the benign influence of music? one has only to watch people who are under the magic spell of beautiful music to understand what a power it has for the good. i believe that good vocal music should be a part of all progressive educational work. the more music we have, the more beautiful this world will be, the more kindly people will feel toward each other and the more life will be worth living. wrong to encourage voiceless aspirants but when i say that everyone who possesses a voice should learn to sing i do not by any means wish to convey the idea that anyone who desires may become a great singer. that is a privilege that is given to but a very few fortunate people. so many things go together to make a great singer that the one who gives advice should be very circumspect in encouraging young people to undertake a professional career--especially an operatic career. giving advice under any conditions is often thankless. i have been appealed to by hundreds of girls who have wanted me to hear them sing. i have always told them what seemed to me the truth, but i have been so dismayed at the manner in which this has been received that i hesitate greatly before hearing aspiring singers. it is the same way with the teachers. i know that some teachers are blamed for taking voiceless pupils, but the pupils are more often to blame than the teacher. i have known pupils who have been discouraged by several good teachers to persist until they finally found a teacher who would take them. most teachers are conscientious--often too conscientious for their pocketbooks. if a representative teacher or a prominent singer advises you not to attempt a public career you should thank him, as he is doubtless trying to save you from years of miserable failure. it is a very serious matter for the pupil, and one that should be given almost sacred consideration by those who have the pupil's welfare at heart. wise, indeed, is the young singer who can so estimate her talents that she will start along the right path. there are many positions which are desirable and laudable which can be ably filled by competent singers. if you have limitations which will prevent your ever reaching that "will-o'-the-wisp" known as "fame," do not waste money trying to achieve what is obviously out of your reach. if you can fill the position of soloist in a small choir creditably, do so and be contented. don't aspire for operatic heights if you are hopelessly shackled by a lack of natural qualifications. it is a serious error to start vocal instruction too early. i do not believe that the girl's musical education should commence earlier than at the age of sixteen. it is true that in the cases of some very healthy girls no very great damage may be done, but it is a risk i certainly would not advise. much money and time are wasted upon voice training of girls under the age of sixteen. if the girl is destined for a great career she will have the comprehension, the grasp, the insight that will lead her to learn very rapidly. some people can take in the whole meaning of a picture at a glance; others are obliged to regard the picture for hours to see the same points of artistic interest. quick comprehension is a great asset, and the girl who is of the right sort will lose nothing by waiting until she reaches the above age. piano or violin study advisable for all singers ambition, faithfulness to ideals and energy are the only hopes left open to the singer who is not gifted with a wonderfully beautiful natural voice. it is true that some singers of great intelligence and great energy have been able to achieve wide fame with natural voices that under other conditions would only attract local notice. these singers deserve great credit for their efforts. while the training of the voice may be deferred to the age of sixteen, the early years should by no means be wasted. the general education of the child, the fortification of the health and the study of music through the medium of some instrument are most important. the young girl who commences voice study with the ability to play either the violin or the piano has an enormous advantage over the young girl who has had no musical training. i found the piano training of my youth of greatest value, and through the study of the violin i learned certain secrets that i later applied to respiration and phrasing. although my voice was naturally flexible, i have no doubt that the study of these instruments assisted in intonation and execution in a manner that i cannot over-estimate. a beautiful voice is not so great a gift, unless its possessor knows how to employ it to advantage. the musical training that one receives from the study of an instrument is of greatest value. consequently, i advise parents who hope to make their children singers to give them the advantage of a thorough musical training in either violin study or the piano. much wasted money and many blasted ambitions can be spared by such a course. a good general education of vast importance the singer whose general education has been neglected is in a most unfortunate plight. and by general education i do not mean only those academic studies that people learn in schools. the imagination must be stimulated, the heartfelt love for the poetical must be cultivated, and above all things the love for nature and mankind must be developed. i can take the greatest joy in a walk through a great forest. it is an education to me to be with nature. unfortunately, only too many americans go rushing through life neglecting those things which make life worth living. musical advance in america there has been a most marvelous advance in this respect, however, in america. not only in nature love but in art it has been my pleasure to watch a wonderful growth. when i first came here in things were entirely different in many respects. now the great operatic novelties of europe are presented here in magnificent style, and often before they are heard in many european capitals. in this respect america to-day ranks with the best in the world. will you not kindly permit me to digress for a moment and say to the music lovers of america that i appreciate in the deepest manner the great kindnesses that have been shown to me everywhere? for this reason, i know that my criticisms, if they may be called such, will be received as they are intended. the singer should make a serious study of languages. french, german, english and italian are the most necessary ones. i include english as i am convinced that it is only a matter of a short time when a school of opera written by english-speaking composers will arise. the great educational and musical advance in america is an indication of this. as for voice exercises, i have always been of the opinion that it is better to leave that matter entirely to the discretion of the teacher. there can be no universal voice exercise that will apply to all cases. again, it is more a matter of how the exercise is sung than the exercise itself. the simplest exercise can become valuable in the hands of the great teacher. i have no faith in the teachers who make each and every pupil go through one and the same set of exercises in the same way. the voice teacher is like the physician. he must originate and prescribe certain remedies to suit certain cases. much money is wasted by trying to do without a good teacher. if the pupil really has a great voice and the requisite talent, it is economical to take her to the best teacher obtainable. american women have wonderful voices. moreover, they have great energy, talent and temperament. their accomplishments in the operatic world are matters of present musical history. with such splendid effort and such generosity, it is easy to prophesy a great future for musical america. this is the land of great accomplishments. with time americans will give more attention to the cultivation of details in art, they will acquire more repose perhaps, and then the tremendous energy which has done so much to make the country what it is will be a great factor in establishing a school of music in the new world which will rank with the greatest of all times. mme. ernestine schumann-heink biographical mme. ernestine schumann-heink (née roessler) was born near the city of prague, july , . she relates that her father was a czech and her mother was of italian extraction. she was educated in ursuline convent and studied singing with mme. marietta von leclair in graz. her first appearance was at the age of , when she is reported to have taken a solo part in a performance of the beethoven ninth symphony, at an important concert in graz. her operatic début was made at the royal opera, dresden, in _trovatore_. there she studied under krebs and franz wüllner. it is impossible to detail mme. schumann-heink's operatic successes here, since her numerous appearances at the leading operatic houses of the world have been followed by such triumphs that she is admittedly the greatest contralto soloist of her time. at bayreuth, covent garden, and at the metropolitan her appearances have drawn multitudes. in concert she proved one of the greatest of all singers of art songs. in she became an american citizen, her enthusiasm for this country leading her to name one of her sons george washington. during the great war (in which four of her sons served with the american colors) she toured incessantly from camp to camp, giving her services for the entertainment of the soldiers and winning countless admirers in this way. her glorious voice extends from d on the third line of the bass clef to c on the second leger line above the treble clef. [illustration: mme. ernestine schumann-heink.] keeping the voice in prime condition mme. ernestine schumann-heink the artist's responsibility would you have me give the secret of my success at the very outstart? it is very simple and centers around this subject of the artist's responsibility to the audience. my secret is absolute devotion to the audience. i love my audiences. they are all my friends. i feel a bond with them the moment i step before them. whether i am singing in blasé new york or before an audience of farmer folk in some western chautauqua, my attitude toward my audience is quite the same. i take the same care and thought with every audience. this even extends to my dress. the singer, who wears an elaborate gown before a metropolitan audience and wears some worn-out old rag of a thing when singing at some rural festival, shows that she has not the proper respect in her mind. respect is everything. therefore it is necessary for me to have my voice in the best of condition every day of the year. it is my duty to my audience. the woman who comes to a country chautauqua and brings her baby with her and perchance nurses the little one during the concert gets a great deal closer to my heart than the stiff-backed aristocrat who has just left a pekingese spaniel outside of the opera house door in a $ . limousine. that little country woman expects to hear the singer at her best. therefore, i practice just as carefully on the day of the chautauqua concert as i would if i were to sing _ortrud_ the same night at the metropolitan in new york. american audiences are becoming more and more discriminating. likewise they are more and more responsive. as an american citizen, i am devoted to all the ideals of the new world. they have accepted me in the most whole-souled manner and i am grateful to the land of my adoption. the advantage of an early training whether or not the voice keeps in prime condition to-day depends largely upon the early training of the singer. if that training is a good one, a sound one, a sensible one, the voice will, with regular practice, keep in good condition for a remarkably long time. the trouble is that the average student is too impatient in these days to take time for a sufficient training. the voice at the outstart must be trained lightly and carefully. there must not be the least strain. i believe that at the beginning two lessons a week should be sufficient. the lessons should not be longer than one-half an hour and the home practice should not exceed at the start fifty minutes a day. even then the practice should be divided into two periods. the young singer should practice _mezza voce_, which simply means nothing more or less than "half voice." never practice with full voice unless singing under the direction of a well-schooled teacher with years of practical singing experience. it is easy enough to shout. some of the singers in modern opera seem to employ a kind of megaphone method. they stand stock still on the stage and bawl out the phrases as though they were announcing trains in a railroad terminal. such singers disappear in a few years. their voices seem torn to shreds. the reason is that they have not given sufficient attention to _bel canto_ in their early training. they seem to forget that voice must first of all be beautiful. _bel canto_,--beautiful singing,--not the singing of meaningless italian phrases, as so many insist, but the glorious _bel canto_ which bach, haydn and mozart demand,--a _bel canto_ that cultivates the musical taste, disciplines the voice and trains the singer technically to do great things. please understand that i am not disparaging the good and beautiful in italian masterpieces. the musician will know what i mean. the singer can gain little, however, from music that intellectually and vocally is better suited to a parrot than a human being. some of the older singers made _bel canto_ such an art that people came to hear them for their voices alone, and not for their intellectual or emotional interpretations of a rôle. perhaps you never heard patti in her prime. ah! patti--the wonderful adelina with the glorious golden voice. it was she who made me ambitious to study breathing until it became an art. to hear her as she trippingly left the stage in verdi's _traviata_ singing runs with ease and finish that other singers slur or stumble over,--ah! that was an art! [illustration: musical notation: ex. il mio pen sier, il mio pen-sier___ il mio pen-sier. ] volumes have been written on breathing and volumes more could be written. this is not the place to discuss the singer's great fundamental need. need i say more than that i practice deep breathing every day of my life? the age for starting it is my opinion that no girl who wishes to keep her voice in the prime of condition all the time in after years should start to study much earlier than seventeen or eighteen years of age. in the case of a man i do not believe that he should start until he is past twenty or even twenty-two. i know that this is contrary to what many singers think, but the period of mutation in both sexes is a much slower process than most teachers realize, and i have given this matter a great deal of serious thought. let everybody sing! can i digress long enough to say that i think that everybody should sing? that is, they should learn to sing under a good singing instructor. this does not mean that they should look forward toward a professional career. god forbid! there are enough half-baked singers in the world now who are striving to become professionals. but the public should know that singing is the healthiest kind of exercise imaginable. when one sings properly one exercises nearly all of the important muscles of the torso. the circulation of the blood is improved, the digestion bettered, the heart promoted to healthy action--in fact, everything is bettered. singers as a rule are notoriously healthy and often very long lived. the new movement for community singing in the open air is a magnificent one. let everybody sing! a great singing teacher with a reputation as big as napoleon's or george washington's is not needed. there are thousands and thousands of unknown teachers who are most excellent. often the advice or the instruction is very much the same. what difference does it make whether i buy castile soap in a huge broadway store or a little country store, if the soap is the same? many people hesitate to study because they can not study with a great teacher. nonsense! pick out some sensible, well-drilled teacher and then use your own good judgment to guide yourself. remember that schumann-heink did not study with a world-famed teacher. whoever hears of marietta von leclair in these days? yet i do not think that i could have done any more with my voice if i had had every famous teacher from niccolo antonio porpora down to the present day. the individual singer must have ideals, and then leave nothing undone to attain those ideals. one of my ideals was to be able to sing pianissimo with the kind of resonance that makes it carry up to the farthest gallery. that is one of the most difficult things i had to learn, and i attained it only after years of faithful practice. the singer's daily routine to keep the voice in prime condition the singer's first consideration is physical and mental health. if the body or the mind is over-taxed singing becomes an impossibility. it is amazing what the healthy body and the busy mind can really stand. i take but three weeks' vacation during the year and find that i am a great deal better for it. long terms of enforced indolence do not mean rest. the real artist is happiest when at work, and i want to work. fortunately i am never at loss for opportunity. the ambitious vocal student can benefit as much by studying a good book on hygiene or the conservation of the health as from a book on the art of singing. first of all comes diet. americans as a rule eat far too much. why do some of the good churchgoing people raise such an incessant row about over-drinking when they constantly injure themselves quite as much by over-eating? what difference does it make whether you ruin your stomach, liver or kidneys by too much alcohol or too much roast beef? one vice is as bad as another. the singer must live upon a light diet. a heavy diet is by no means necessary to keep up a robust physique. i am rarely ill, am exceedingly strong in every way, and yet eat very little indeed. i find that my voice is in the best of condition when i eat very moderately. my digestion is a serious matter with me, and i take every precaution to see that it is not congested in any way. this is most important to the singer. here is an average ménu for my days when i am on tour: _breakfast two or more glasses of cold water (not ice water) ham and eggs coffee toast._ _mid-day dinner soup some meat order a vegetable plenty of salad fruit._ _supper a sandwich fruit._ such a ménu i find ample for the heaviest kind of professional work. if i eat more, my work may deteriorate, and i know it. fresh air, sunshine, sufficient rest and daily baths in tepid water night and morning are a part of my regular routine. i lay special stress upon the baths. nothing invigorates the singer as much as this. avoid very cold baths, but see to it that you have a good reaction after each bath. there is nothing like such a routine as this to avoid colds. if you have a cold try the same remedies to try to get rid of it. to me, one day at atlantic city is better for a cold than all the medicine i can take. i call atlantic city my cold doctor. of course, there are many other shore resorts that may be just as helpful, but when i can do so i always make a bee line for atlantic city the moment i feel a serious cold on the way. sensible singers know now that they must avoid alcohol, even in limited quantities, if they desire to be in the prime of condition and keep the voice for a long, long time. champagne particularly is poison to the singer just before singing. it seems to irritate the throat and make good vocal work impossible. i am sorry for the singer who feels that some spur like champagne or a cup of strong coffee is desirable before going upon the stage. it amuses me to hear girls say, "i would give anything to be a great singer"; and then go and lace themselves until they look like jersey mosquitoes. the breath is the motive power of the voice. without it under intelligent control nothing can be accomplished. one might as well try to run an automobile without gasoline as sing without breath. how can a girl breathe when she has squeezed her lungs to one-half their normal size? preparation for heavy rÔles the voice can never be kept in prime condition if it is obliged to carry a load that it has not been prepared to carry. most voices that wear out are voices that have been overburdened. either the singer does not know how to sing or the rôle is too heavy. i think that i may be forgiven for pointing out that i have repeatedly sung the heaviest and most exacting rôles in opera. my voice would have been shattered years ago if i had not prepared myself for these rôles and sung them properly. a man may be able to carry a load of fifty pounds for miles if he carries it on his back, but he will not be able to carry it a quarter of a mile if he holds it out at arm's length from the body, with one arm. does this not make the point clear? some rôles demand maturity. it is suicidal for the young singer to attempt them. the composer and the conductor naturally think only of the effect at the performance. the singer's welfare with them is a secondary consideration. i have sung under the great composers and conductors, from richard wagner to richard strauss. some of the strauss rôles are even more strenuous than those of wagner. they call for great energy as well as great vocal ability. young singers essay these heavy rôles and the voices go to pieces. why not wait a little while? why not be patient? the singer is haunted by the delusion that success can only come to her if she sings great rôles. if she can not ape melba in _traviata_, emma eames as elizabeth in _tannhäuser_ or geraldine farrar in _butterfly_, she pouts and refuses to do anything. offer her a small part and she sneers at it. ha! ha! all my earliest successes were made in the smallest kinds of parts. i realized that i had only a little to do and only very little time to do it in. consequently, i gave myself heart and soul to that part. it must be done so artistically, so intelligently, so beautifully that it would command success. imagine the rôles of erda and norna, and marie in _flying dutchman_. they are so small that they can hardly be seen. yet these rôles were my first door to success and fame. wagner did not think of them as little things. he was a real master and knew that in every art-work a small part is just as important as a great part. it is a part of a beautiful whole. don't turn up your nose at little things. take every opportunity, and treat it as though it were the greatest thing in your life. it pays. everything that amounts to anything in my entire career has come through struggle. at first a horrible struggle with poverty. no girl student in a hall bedroom to-day (and my heart goes out to them now) endures more than i went through. it was work, work, work, from morning to night, with domestic cares and worries enough all the time to drive a woman mad. keep up your spirits, girls. if you have the right kind of fight in you, success will surely come. never think of discouragement, no matter what happens. keep working every day and always hoping. it will come out all right if you have the gift and the perseverance. compulsion is the greatest element in the vocalist's success. poverty has a knout in its hand driving you on. well, let it,--and remember that under that knout you will travel twice as fast as the rich girl possibly can with her fifty-horse-power automobile. keep true to the best. _muss_--"i must," "i will," the mere necessity is a help not a hindrance, if you have the right stuff in you. learn to depend upon yourself, and know that when you have something that the public wants it will not be slow in running after you. don't ask for help. i never had any help. tell that to the aspiring geese who think that i have some magic power whereby i can help a mediocre singer to success by the mere twist of the hand. daily exercises of a prima donna [illustration: musical notation] daily vocal exercises are the daily bread of the singer. they should be practiced just as regularly as one sits down to the table to eat, or as one washes one's teeth or as one bathes. as a rule the average professional singer does not resort to complicated exercises and great care is taken to avoid strain. it is perfectly easy for me, a contralto, to sing c in alt but do you suppose i sing it in my daily exercises? it is one of the extreme notes in my range and it might be a strain. consequently i avoid it. i also sing most of my exercises _mezza voce_. there should always be periods of intermission between practice. i often go about my routine work while on tour, walking up and down the room, packing my trunk, etc., and practicing gently at the same time. i enjoy it and it makes my work lighter. of course i take great pains to practice carefully. my exercises are for the most part simple scales, arpeggios or trills. for instance, i will start with the following: [illustration: musical notation] this i sing in middle voice and very softly. thereby i do not become tired and i don't bother the neighborhood. if i sang this in the big, full lower tones and sang loud, my voice would be fatigued rather than benefited and the neighbors would hate me. this i continue up to _d_ or _e_ flat. [illustration: musical notation] above this i invariably use what is termed the head tone. female singers should always begin the head tone on this degree of the staff and not on _f_ and _f#_, as is sometimes recommended. i always use the italian vowel _ah_ in my exercises. it seems best to me. i know that _oo_ and _ue_ are recommended for contraltos, but i have long had the firm conviction that one should first perfect the natural vocal color through securing good tones by means of the most open vowel. after this is done the voice may be further colored by the judicious employment of other vowels. sopranos, for instance, can help their head tones by singing _ee_ (italian _i_). i know nothing better for acquiring a flexible tone than to sing trills like the following: [illustration: musical notation] and at the same time preserve a gentle, smiling expression. smile naturally, as though you were genuinely amused at something,--smile until your upper teeth are uncovered. then, try these exercises with the vowel _ah_. don't be afraid of getting a trivial, colorless tone. it is easy enough to make the tone sombre by willing it so, when the occasion demands. you will be amazed what this smiling, genial, _liebenswürdig_ expression will do to relieve stiffness and help you in placing your voice right. the old italians knew about it and advocated it strongly. there is nothing like it to keep the voice youthful, fresh and in the prime of condition. the singer must relax probably more voices are ruined by strain than through any other cause. the singer must relax all the time. this does not mean flabbiness. it does not mean that the singer should collapse before singing. relaxation in the singer's sense is a delicious condition of buoyancy, of lightness, of freedom, of ease and entire lack of tightening in any part. when i relax i feel as though every atom in my body were floating in space. there is not one single little nerve on tension. the singer must be particularly careful when approaching a climax in a great work of art. then the tendency to tighten up is at its greatest. this must be anticipated. take such a case as the following passage from the famous aria from saint-saëns' _samson et delila_, "_mon coeur s'ouvre à ta voix_." the climax is obviously on the words "ah!--verse moi." the climax is the note marked by a star (_f_ on the top line). [illustration: musical notation: reponds a ma ten-dres-se, re-ponds a ma ten-dress-s! ah!--ver-se-moi--ver-se-moi.. l-i-vres-se!] when i am singing the last notes of the previous phrase to the word "tendresse," anyone who has observed me closely will notice that i instinctively let my shoulders drop,--that the facial muscles become relaxed as when one is about to smile or about to yawn. i am then relaxing to meet the great melodic climax and meet it in such a manner that i will have abundant reserve force after it has been sung. when one has to sing before an audience of five or six thousand people such a climax is immensely important and it requires great balance to meet it and triumph in it. antonio scotti biographical antonio scotti was born at naples, jan. , , and did much of his vocal study there with mme. trifari paganini. his début was made at the teatro reale, in the island of malta, in . the opera was _martha_. after touring the italian opera houses he spent seven seasons in south america at a time when the interest in grand opera on that continent was developing tremendously. he then toured spain and russia with great success and made his début at covent garden, london, in . his success was so great that he was immediately engaged for the metropolitan in new york, where he has sung every season since that time. his most successful rôles have been in _la tosca_, _la bohême_, _i pagliacci_, _carmen_, _falstaff_, _l'oracolo_ and _otello_. his voice is a rich and powerful baritone. he is considered one of the finest actors among the grand opera singers. during recent years he has toured with an opera company of his own, making many successful appearances in some of the smaller as well as the larger american cities. [illustration: portrait of antonio scotti in the costume of his most famous rÔle, scarpia, in "la tosca," by puccini.] italian opera in america antonio scotti so closely identified is italy with all that pertains to opera, that the question of the future of italian opera in america is one that interests me immensely. it has been my privilege to devote a number of the best years of my life to singing in italian opera in this wonderful country, and one cannot help noticing, first of all, the almost indescribable advance that america has made along all lines. it is so marvelous that those who reside continually in this country do not stop to consider it. musicians of europe who have never visited america can form no conception of it, and when they once have had an opportunity to observe musical conditions in america, the great opera houses, the music schools, the theatres and the bustling, hustling activity, together with the extraordinary casts of world-famous operatic stars presented in our leading cities, they are amazed in the extreme. it is very gratifying for me to realize that the operatic compositions of my countrymen must play a very important part in the operatic future of america. it has always seemed to me that there is far more variety in the works of the modern italian composers than in those of other nations. almost all of the later german operas bear the unmistakable stamp of wagner. those which do not, show decided italian influences. the operas of mozart are largely founded on italian models, although they show a marvelous genius peculiar to the great master who created them. operatic tendencies the italian opera of the future will without doubt follow the lead of verdi, that is, the later works of verdi. to me _falstaff_ seems the most remarkable of all italian operas. the public is not well enough acquainted with this work to demand it with the same force that they demand some of the more popular works of verdi. verdi was always melodious. his compositions are a beautiful lace-work of melodies. it has seemed to me that some of the italian operatic composers who have been strongly influenced by wagner have made the mistake of supposing that wagner was not a master of melody. consequently they have sacrificed their italian birthright of melody for all kinds of cacophony. wagner was really wonderfully melodious. some of his melodies are among the most beautiful ever conceived. i do not refer only to the melodies such as "oh, thou sublime evening star" of _tannhäuser_ or the "bridal march" of _lohengrin_, but also to the inexhaustible fund of melodies that one may find in most every one of his astonishing works. true, these melodies are different in type from most melodies of italian origin, but they are none the less melodies, and beautiful ones. verdi's later operas contain such melodies and he is the model which the young composers of italy will doubtless follow. puccini, mascagni, leoncavallo, and others, have written works rich in melody and yet not wanting in dramatic charm, orchestral accompaniment and musicianly treatment. opera the natural genius of italy's composers when the italian student leaves the conservatory, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred his ambitions are solely along the line of operatic composition. this seems his natural bent or mould. of course he has written small fugues and perhaps even symphonies, but in the majority of instances these have been mere academic exercises. i regret that this is the case, and heartily wish that we had more bossis, martuccis and sgambattis, but, again, would it not be a great mistake to try to make a symphonist out of an operatic composer? in the case of perosi i often regret that he is a priest and therefore cannot write for the theatre, because i earnestly believe that notwithstanding his success as a composer of religious music, his natural bent is for the theatre or the opera. the composers of to-day of the great italian opera composers of to-day, i feel that puccini is, perhaps, the greatest because he has a deeper and more intimate appreciation of theatrical values. every note that puccini writes smells of the paint and canvas behind the proscenium arch. he seems to know just what kind of music will go best with a certain series of words in order to bring out the dramatic meaning. this is in no sense a depreciation of the fine things that mascagni, leoncavallo and others have done. it is simply my personal estimate of puccini's worth as an operatic composer. personally, i like _madama butterfly_ better than any other italian opera written in recent years. aside from _falstaff_, my own best rôle is probably in _la tosca_. the two most popular italian operas of to-day are without doubt _aïda_ and _madama butterfly_. that is, these operas draw the greatest audiences at present. it is gratifying to note a very much unified and catholic taste throughout the entire country. that is to say, in chicago, san francisco, boston and philadelphia one finds the public taste very similar. this indicates that the great musical advance in recent years in america has not been confined to one or two eastern cities. the influence of the star system it is often regretable that the reputation of the singer draws bigger audiences in america than the work to be performed. american people go to hear some particular singer and not to hear the work of the composer. in other countries this is not so invariably the rule. it is a condition that may be overcome in time in america. it often happens that remarkably good performances are missed by the public who are only drawn to the opera house when some great operatic celebrity sings. the intrinsic beauties of the opera itself should have much to do with controlling its presentation. in all cases at present the italian opera seems in preponderance, but this cannot be said to be a result of the engagement of casts composed exclusively of italian singers. in our american opera houses many singers of many different nationalities are engaged in singing in italian opera. personally, i am opposed to operas being sung in any tongue but that in which the opera was originally written. if i am not mistaken, the covent garden opera house and the metropolitan opera house are the only two opera houses in the world where this system is followed. no one can realize what i mean until he has heard a wagner opera presented in french, a tongue that seems absolutely unfitted for the music of wagner. the possible influence of strauss and debussy i do not feel that either strauss or debussy will have an influence upon the music of the coming italian composers similar to that which the music of wagner had upon verdi and his followers. personally, i admire them very much, but they seem unvocal, and italy is nothing if not vocal. to me _pelleas and melisande_ would be quite as interesting if it were acted in pantomime with the orchestral accompaniment. the voice parts, to my way of thinking, could almost be dispensed with. the piece is a beautiful dream, and the story so evident that it could almost be played as an "opera without words." but vocal it certainly is not, and the opportunities of the singer are decidedly limited. strauss, also, does not even treat the voice with the scant consideration bestowed upon it in some of the extreme passages of the wagner operas. occasionally the singer has an opportunity, but it cannot be denied that to the actor and the orchestra falls the lion's share of the work. operatic centers in italy americans seem to think that the only really great operatic center of italy is milan. this is doubtless due to the celebrity of the famous opera house, la scala, and to the fact that the great publishing house of ricordi is located there, but it is by no means indicative of the true condition. the fact is that the appreciation of opera is often greater outside of milan than in the city. in naples, rome and florence opera is given on a grand scale, and many other italian cities possess fine theaters and fine operatic companies. the san carlos company, at naples, is usually exceptionally good, and the opera house itself is a most excellent one. the greatest musical industry centers around milan owing, as we have said, to the publishing interests in that city. if an italian composer wants to produce one of his works he usually makes arrangements with his publisher. this, of course, brings him at once to milan in most cases. more new operas should be produced it is, of course, difficult to gain an audience for a new work, but this is largely the fault of the public. the managers are usually willing and glad to bring out novelties if the public can be found to appreciate them. _madama butterfly_ is a novelty, but it leaped into immediate and enormous appreciation. would that we could find a number like it! _madama butterfly's_ success has been largely due to the fact that the work bears the direct evidences of inspiration. i was with puccini in london when he saw for the first time john luther long's story, dramatized by a belasco, produced in the form of a one-act play. he had a number of librettos under consideration at that time, but he cast them all aside at once. i never knew puccini to be more excited. the story of the little japanese piece was on his mind all the time. he could not seem to get away from it. it was in this white heat of inspiration that the piece was moulded. operas do not come out of the "nowhere." they are born of the artistic enthusiasm and intellectual exuberance of the trained composer. america's musical future one of the marvelous conditions of music in this country is that the opera, the concert, the oratorio and the recital all seem to meet with equal appreciation. the fact that most students of music in this land play the piano has opened the avenues leading to an appreciation of orchestral scores. in the case of opera the condition was quite different. the appreciation of operatic music demands the voice of the trained artist and this could not be brought to the home until the sound reproducing machine had been perfected. the great increase in the interest in opera in recent years is doubtless due to the fact that thousands and thousands of those instruments are in use in as many homes and music studios. it is far past the "toy" stage, and is a genuine factor in the art development and musical education of america. at first the sound reproducing machine met with tremendous opposition owing to the fact that bad instruments and poorer records had prejudiced the public, but now they have reached a condition whereby the voice is reflected with astonishing veracity. the improvements i have observed during the past years have seemed altogether wonderful to me. the thought that half a century hence the voices of our great singers of to-day may be heard in the homes of all countries of the globe gives a sense of satisfaction to the singer, since it gives a permanence to his art which was inconceivable twenty-five years ago. [illustration: henri scott.] henri scott biographical henri scott was born at coatesville, pa., april , . he was intended for a business career but became interested in music, at first in an amateur way, in philadelphia. encouraged by local successes he went to study voice with oscar saenger, remaining with him for upward of eleven years. he was fortunate in making appearances with the "philadelphia operatic society," a remarkable amateur organization giving performances of grand opera on a large scale. with this organization he made his first stage appearances as ramphis in _aïda_, in . he had his passage booked for europe, where he was assured many fine appearances, when he accidentally met oscar hammerstein, who engaged him for five years. under this manager he made his professional début as ramphis at the manhattan opera house in new york, in . hammerstein, a year thereafter, terminated his new york performances by selling out to the metropolitan opera company. mr. scott then went to rome, where he made his first appearance in _faust_, with great success. he was immediately engaged for the chicago opera company where, during three years, he sang some thirty-five different rôles. in he was engaged as a leading basso by the metropolitan, where he remained for many seasons. he has sung on tour with the thomas orchestra, with caruso and at many famous festivals. he has appeared with success in over one hundred cities in the united states and canada. in response to many offers he went into vaudeville, where he has sung to hundreds of thousands of americans, with immense success. mr. scott is therefore in a position to speak of this new and interesting phase of bringing musical masterpieces to "the masses." the singer's larger musical public henri scott like every american, i resent the epithet, "the masses," because i have always considered myself a part of that mysterious unbounded organization of people to which all democratic americans feel that they belong. one who is not a member of the masses in america is perforce a "snob" and a "prig." possibly one of the reasons why our republic has survived so many years is that all true americans are aristocratic, not in the attitude of "i am as good as everyone," but yet human enough to feel deep in their hearts, "any good citizen is as good as i." why grand opera is expensive music in america should be the property of everybody. the talking machines come near making it that, if one may judge from the sounds that come from half the homes at night. but the people want to hear the best music from living performers "in the flesh." at the same time, comparatively, very few can pay from two to twenty dollars a seat to hear great opera and great singers. the reason why grand opera costs so much is that the really fine voices, with trained operatic experience, are very, very few; and, since only a few performances are given a year, the price must be high. it is simply the law of supply and demand. there are, in america, two large grand opera companies and half a dozen traveling ones, some of them very excellent. there are probably twenty large symphony orchestras and at least one hundred oratorio societies of size. to say that these bodies and others purveying good music, reach more than five million auditors a year would possibly be a generous figure. but five million is not one-twentieth of the population of america. what about the nineteen-twentieths? on the other hand, there are in america between two and three thousand good vaudeville and moving picture houses where the best music in some form is heard not once or twice a week for a short season, but several times each day. some of the moving picture houses have orchestras of thirty-five to eighty men, selected from musicians of the finest ability, many of whom have played in some of the greatest orchestras of the world. these orchestras and the talking machines are doing more to bring good music to the public than all the larger organizations, if we consider the subject from a standpoint of numbers. a revolution in taste the whole character of the entertainments in moving picture and vaudeville theaters has been revolutionized. the buildings are veritable temples of art. the class of the entertainment is constantly improving in response to a demand which the business instincts of the managers cannot fail to recognize. the situation is simply this: the american people, with their wonderful thirst for self-betterment, which has brought about the prodigious success of the educational papers, the schools and the chautauquas, like to have the beautiful things in art served to them with inspiriting amusement. we, as a people, have been becoming more and more refined in our tastes. we want better and better things, not merely in music, but in everything. in my boyhood there were thousands of families in fair circumstances who would endure having the most awful chromos upon their walls. these have for the most part entirely disappeared except in the homes of the newest aliens. it is true that much of our music is pretty raw in the popular field; but even in this it is getting better slowly and surely. if in recent years there has been a revolution in the popular taste for vaudeville, b. f. keith was the "washington" of that revolution. he understood the human demand for clean entertainment, with plenty of healthy fun and an artistic background. he knew the public call for the best music and instilled his convictions in his able followers. mr. keith's attitude was responsible for the signs which one formerly saw in the dressing rooms of good vaudeville theaters, which read: +--------------------------------------------------+ |profanity of any kind, objectionable or suggestive| |remarks, are forbidden in this theater. | |offenders are liable to have the curtain rung | |down upon them during such an act. | +--------------------------------------------------+ fortunately these signs have now disappeared, as the actors have been so disciplined that they know that a coarse remark would injure them with the management. vaudeville is on a far higher basis than much so-called comic opera. some acts are paid exceedingly large sums. sarah bernhardt received $ . a week; calve, bispham, kocian, carolina white and marguerite sylvia, accordingly. dorothy jordan, bessie abbott, rosa ponselle, orville harold and the recent indian sensation at the metropolitan, chief caupolican, actually had their beginnings in vaudeville. in other words, vaudeville was the stepping-stone to grand opera. singing for millions success in this new field depends upon personality as well as art. it also develops personality. it is no place for a "stick." the singer must at all times be in human touch with the audience. the lofty individuals who are thinking far more about themselves than about the songs they are singing have no place here. the task is infinitely more difficult than grand opera. it is far more difficult than recital or oratorio singing. there can be no sham, no pose. the songs must please or the audience will let one know it in a second. the wear and tear upon the voice is much less than in opera. during the week i sing in all three and one-half hours (not counting rehearsals). when i am singing mephistopheles in _faust_ i am in a theater at least six hours--the make-up alone requires at least one and one-half hours. then time is demanded for rehearsals with the company and with various coaches. the art of "putting it over" thus the vaudeville singer who is genuinely interested in the progress of his art has ample time to study new songs and new rôles. in the jargon of vaudeville, everything is based upon whether the singer is able "to put the number over." this is a far more serious matter than one thinks. the audience is made up of the great public--the common people, god bless them. there is not the select gathering of musically cultured people that one finds in carnegie hall or the auditorium. therefore, in singing music that is admittedly a musical masterpiece, one must select only those works which may be interpreted with a broad human appeal. one is far closer to his fellow-man in vaudeville than in grand opera, because the emotions of the auditors are more responsive. it is intensely gratifying to know that these people want real art. my greatest success has been in lieurance's indian songs and in excerpts from grand opera. upon one occasion my number was followed by that of a very popular comedienne whose performance was known to be of the farcical, rip-roaring type which vaudeville audiences were supposed to like above all things. it was my pleasure to be recalled, even after the curtain had ascended upon her performance, and to be compelled to give another song as an encore. the preference of the vaudeville audience for really good music has been indicated to me time and again. but it is not merely the good music that draws: the music must be interpreted properly. much excellent music is ruined in vaudeville by ridiculous renditions. how to get an engagement singers have asked me time and again how to get an engagement. the first thing is to be sure that you have something to sell that is really worth while. think of how many people are willing to pay to hear you sing! the more that they are willing to pay, the more valuable you are to the managers who buy your services. therefore reputation, of course, is an important point to the manager. an unknown singer can not hope to get the same fee as the celebrated singer no matter how fine the voice or the art. mr. e. falber and mr. martin beck, who have been responsible for a great many of the engagements of great artists in vaudeville and who are great believers in fine music in vaudeville, have, through their high position in business, helped hundreds. but they can not help anyone who has nothing to sell. the home office of the big vaudeville exchange is at forty-seventh and broadway, n.y., and it is one of the busiest places in the great city. even at that, it has always been a mystery to me just how the thousands of numbers are arranged so that there will be as little loss as possible for the performers; for it must be remembered that the vaudeville artists buy their own stage clothes and scenery, attend to their transportation and pay all their own expenses; unless they can afford the luxury of a personal manager who knows how to do these things just a little better. the singer looking for an engagement must in some way do something to gain some kind of recognition. perhaps it may come from the fact that the manager of the local theater in her town has heard her sing, or some well-known singer is interested in her and is willing to write a letter of introduction to someone influential in headquarters. with the enormous demands made upon the time of the "powers that be," it is hardly fair to expect them to hear anyone and everyone. with such a letter or such an introduction, arrange for an audition at the headquarters in new york. remember all the time that if you have anything really worth while to sell the managers are just as anxious to hear you as you are to be heard. there is no occasion for nervousness. excellent conditions sometimes the managers are badly mistaken. it is common gossip that a very celebrated opera singer sought a vaudeville engagement and was turned down because of the lack of the musical experience of the manager, and because she was unknown. if he wanted her to-day his figure would have to be several thousand dollars a week. the average vaudeville theater in america is far better for the singer, in many ways, than many of the opera houses. in fact the vaudeville theaters are new; while the opera houses are old, and often sadly run down and out of date. possibly the finest vaudeville theater in america is in providence, r. i., and was built by e. f. albee. it is palatial in every aspect, built as strong and substantial as a fort, and yet as elegant as a mansion. it is much easier to sing in these modern theaters made of stone and concrete than in many of the old-fashioned opera houses. indeed, some of the vaudeville audiences often hear a singer at far better advantage than in the opera house. the singer who realizes the wonderful artistic opportunities provided in reaching such immense numbers of people, who will understand that he must sing up to the larger humanity rather than thinking that he must sing down to a mob, who will work to do better vocal and interpretative thinking at every successive performance, will lose nothing by singing in vaudeville and may gain an army of friends and admirers he could not otherwise possibly acquire. emma thursby biographical emma thursby was born in brooklyn, n. y., and studied singing with julius meyers, achille errani, mme. rudersdorf, lamperti (elder), san giovanni and finally with maurice strakosch. she began her career as a church singer in new york and throngs went to different new york churches to hear her exquisitely mellow and beautiful voice. for many years she was the soprano of the famous plymouth church when henry ward beecher was the pastor. her voice became so famous that she went on a tour with maurice strakosch for seven years, in europe and america, everywhere meeting with sensational success. later she toured with the gilmore band and with the thomas orchestra. she became as popular in london and in paris as in new york. her fame became so great that she finally made a tour of the world, appearing with great success even in china and japan. [illustration: emma thursby.] singing in concert and what it means emma thursby although conditions have changed very greatly since i was last regularly engaged in making concert tours, the change has been rather one of advantage to young singers than one to their disadvantage. the enormous advance in musical taste can only be expressed by the word "startling." for while we have apparently a vast amount of worthless music being continually inoculated into our unsuspecting public, we have, nevertheless, a corresponding cultivation of the love for good music which contributes much to the support of the concert singer of the present day. the old time lyceum has almost disappeared, but the high-class song recital has taken its place and recitals that would have been barely possible years ago are now frequently given with greatest financial and artistic success. schumann, franz, strauss, grieg and macdowell have conquered the field formerly held by the vapid and meaningless compositions of brainless composers who wrote solely to amuse or to appeal to morbid sentimentality. the conditions of travel, also, have been greatly improved. it is now possible to go about in railroad cars and stop at hotels, and at the same time experience very little inconvenience and discomfort. this makes the career of the concert artist a far more desirable one than in former years. uninviting hotels, frigid cars, poorly prepared meals and the lack of privacy were scarcely the best things to stimulate a high degree of musical inspiration. health nevertheless, the girl who would be successful in concert must either possess or acquire good health as her first and all-essential asset. notwithstanding the marvelous improvement in traveling facilities and accommodations, the nervous strain of public performance is not lessened, and it not infrequently happens that these very facilities enable the avaricious manager to crowd in more concerts and recitals than in former years, with the consequent strain upon the vitality of the singer. of course, the singer must also possess the foundation for a good natural voice, a sense of hearing capable of being trained to the keenest perception of pitch, quality, rhythm and metre, an attractive personality, a bright mind, a good general education and an artistic temperament--a very extraordinary list, i grant you, but we must remember that the public pays out its money to hear extraordinary people and the would-be singer who does not possess qualifications of this description had better sincerely solicit the advice of some experienced, unbiased teacher or singer before putting forth upon the musical seas in a bark which must meet with certain destruction in weathering the first storm. the teacher who consciously advises a singer to undertake a public career and at the same time knows that such a career would very likely be a failure is beneath the recognition of any honest man or woman. the singer's early training the education of the singer should not commence too early, if we mean by education the training of the voice. if you discover that a child has a very remarkable voice, "ear" and musical intelligence you had better let the voice alone and give your attention to the general musical education of the child along the lines of that received by madame sembrich, who is a fine violinist and pianist. so few are the teachers who know anything whatever about the child-voice, or who can treat it with any degree of safety, that it is far better to leave it alone than to tamper with it. encourage the child to sing softly, sweetly and naturally, much as in free fluent conversation, telling him to form the habit of speaking his tones forward "on the lips" rather than in the throat. if you have among your acquaintances some musician or singer of indisputable ability and impeccable honor who can give you disinterested advice have the child go to this friend now and then to ascertain whether any bad and unnatural habits are being formed. of course we have the famous cases of patti and others, who seem to have sung from infancy. i have no recollection of the time when i first commenced to sing. i have always sung and gloried in my singing. see to it that your musical child has a good general education. this does not necessarily mean a college or university training. in fact, the amount of music study a singer has to accomplish in these days makes the higher academic training apparently impossible. however, with the great musical advance there has come a demand for higher and better ordered intellectual work among singers. this condition is becoming more and more imperative every day. at the same time you must remember also that nothing should be undertaken that might in any way be liable to undermine or impair the child's health. when to begin training the time to begin training depends upon the maturity of the voice and the individual, considered together with the physical condition of the pupil. some girls are ready to start voice work at sixteen, while others are not really in condition until a somewhat older age. here again comes the necessity for the teacher of judgment and experience. a teacher who might in any way be influenced by the necessity for securing a pupil or a fee should be avoided as one avoids the shyster lawyer. starting vocal instruction too early has been the precipice over which many a promising career has been dashed to early oblivion. in choosing a teacher i hardly know what to say, in these days of myriad methods and endless claims. the greatest teachers i have known have been men and women of great simplicity and directness. the perpetrator of the complicated system is normally the creator of vocal failures. the secret of singing is at once a marvelous mystery and again an open secret to those who have realized its simplicity. it cannot be altogether written, nor can it be imparted by words alone. imitation undoubtedly plays an important part, but it is not everything. the teacher must be one who has actually realized the great truths which underlie the best, simplest and most natural methods of securing results and who must possess the wonderful power of exactly communicating these principles to the pupil. a good teacher is far rarer than a good singer. singers are often poor teachers, as they destroy the individuality of the pupil by demanding arbitrary imitation. a teacher can only be judged by results, and the pupil should never permit herself to be deluded by advertisements and claims a teacher is unable to substantiate with successful pupils. habits of speech, poise and thinking one of the deep foundation piers of all educational effort is the inculcation of habits. the most successful voice teacher is the one who is most happy in developing habits of correct singing. these habits must be watched with the persistence, perseverance and affectionate care of the scientist. the teacher must realize that the single lapse or violation of a habit may mean the ruin of weeks or months of hard work. one of the most necessary habits a teacher should form is that of speaking with ease, naturalness and vocal charm. many of our american girls speak with indescribable harshness, slovenliness and shrillness. this is a severe tax upon the sensibilities of a musical person and i know of countless people who suffer acute annoyance from this source. vowels are emitted with a nasal twang or a throaty growl that seem at times most unpardonable noises when coming from a pretty face. consonants are juggled and mangled until the words are very difficult to comprehend. our girls are improving in this respect, but there is still cause for grievous complaint among voice teachers, who find in this one of their most formidable obstacles. another common natural fault, which is particularly offensive to me, is that of an objectionable bodily poise. i have found throughout my entire career that bodily poise in concert work is of paramount importance, but i seem to have great difficulty in sufficiently impressing this great truth upon young ladies who would be singers. the noted parisian teacher, sbriglia, is said to require one entire year to build up and fortify the chest. i have always felt that the best poise is that in which the shoulders are held well back, although not in a stiff or strained position, the upper part of the body leaning forward gently and naturally and the whole frame balanced by a sense of relaxation and ease. in this position the natural equilibrium is not taxed, and a peculiar sensation of non-constraint seems to be noticeable, particularly over the entire area of the front of the torso. this position suggests ease and an absence of that military rigidity which is so fatal to all good vocal effort. it also permits of a freer movement of the abdominal walls, as well as the intercostal muscles, and is thus conducive to the most natural breathing. too much anatomical explanation is liable to confuse the young singer, and if the matter of breathing can be assisted by poise, just so much is gained. another important habit that the teacher should see to at the start is that of correct thinking. most vocal beginners are poor thinkers and fail to realize the vast importance of the mind in all voice work. unless the teacher has the power of inspiring the pupil to a realization of the great fact that nothing is accomplished in the throat that has not been previously performed in the mind, the path will be a difficult one. during the process of singing the throat and the auxiliary vocal process of breathing are really a part of the brain, or, more specifically, the mind or soul. the body is never more than an instrument. without the performer it is as voiceless as the piano of richard wagner standing in all its solitary silence at wahnfried--a mute monument of the marvelous thoughts which once rang from its vibrating wires to all parts of the civilized world. we really sing with that which leaves the body after death. it is in the cultivation of this mystery of mysteries, the soul, that most singers fail. the mental ideal is, after all, that which makes the singer. patti possessed this ideal as a child, and with it the wonderful bodily qualifications which made her immortal. but it requires work to overcome vocal deficiencies, and patti as a child was known to have been a ceaseless worker and thinker, always trying to bring her little body up to the high æsthetic appreciation of the best artistic interpretation of a given passage. maurice strakosch's ten vocal commandments it was from maurice strakosch that i learned of the methods pursued by patti in her daily work, and although strakosch was not a teacher in the commercial sense of the word, as he had comparatively few pupils, he was nevertheless a very fine musician, and there is no doubt that patti owed a great deal to his careful and insistent régime and instruction. although our relation was that of impresario and artist, i cannot be grateful enough to him for the advice and instruction i received from him. the technical exercises he employed were exceedingly simple and he gave more attention to how they were sung than to the exercises themselves. i know of no more effective set of exercises than strakosch's ten daily exercises. they were sung to the different vowels, principally to the vowel "ah," as in "father." notwithstanding their great simplicity strakosch gave the greatest possible attention and time to them. patti used these exercises, which he called his "ten commandments for the singer," daily, and there can be little doubt that the extraordinary preservation of her voice is the result of these simple means. i have used them for years with exceptional results in all cases. however, if the singer has any idea that the mere practice of these exercises to the different vowel sounds will inevitably bring success she is greatly mistaken. these exercises are only valuable when used with vowels correctly and naturally "placed," and that means, in some cases, years of the most careful and painstaking work. following are the famous "ten vocal commandments," as used by adelina patti and several great singers in their daily work. note their simplicity and gradual increase in difficulty. they are to be transposed at the teacher's discretion to suit the range of the voice and are to be used with the different vowels. [illustration: i, musical notation] [illustration: ii, musical notation] [illustration: iii, musical notation] [illustration: iv, musical notation] [illustration: v, musical notation] [illustration: vi, musical notation] [illustration: vii, musical notation] [illustration: viii, musical notation] [illustration: ix, musical notation] [illustration: x, musical notation] the concert singer of the present day must have linguistic attainments far greater than those in demand some years ago. she is required to sing in english, french, german, italian and some singers are now attempting the interpretation of songs in slavic and other tongues. not only do we have to consider arias and passages from the great oratorios and operas as a part of the present-day repertoire, but the song of the "lied" type has come to have a valuable significance in all concert work. many songs intended for the chamber and the salon are now included in programs of concerts and recitals given in our largest auditoriums. only a very few numbers are in themselves songs written for the concert hall. most of the numbers now sung at song concerts are really transplanted from either the stage or the chamber. this makes the position of the concert singer an extremely difficult one. without the dramatic accessories of the opera house or the intimacy of the home circle, she is expected to achieve results varying from the cry of the valkyries, in _die walküre_, to the frail fragrance of franz' _es hat die rose sich beklagt_. i do not wonder that mme. schumann-heink and others have declared that there is nothing more difficult or exhausting than concert singing. the enormous fees paid to great concert singers are not surprising when we consider how very few must be the people who can ever hope to attain great heights in this work. [illustration: reinald werrenrath. © mishkin.] reinald werrenrath biographical reinald werrenrath was born in brooklyn, n. y., august , . his father, george werrenrath, was a distinguished singer, and his mother (née aretta camp) is the daughter of henry camp, who was for many years musical director of plymouth church during the ministry there of henry ward beecher. george werrenrath was a dane, with an unusually rich tenor voice, trained by the best teachers of his time in germany, italy, france and england. during his engagement as leading tenor in the royal opera house in wiesbaden, he left germany by the advice of adelina patti, eventually going to england with maurice strakosch, who was then his coach. in london werrenrath had a fine career, and there was formed a warm and ultimate friendship with charles gounod, with whom he studied and toured in concerts through england and belgium. george werrenrath came to new york in , by the influence of mme. antoinette sterling and of the well-known dane, general c. t. christensen. he immediately became well known by his appearance with the theodore thomas orchestra, as well as by his engagement at plymouth church, where he was soloist for seven years. he was probably the first artist to give song-recitals in the united states, while his performances in opera are still cherished in the memories of those people who can look back on some of the fine representations given under the baton of adolph neuendorf, at the old academy of music, which made the way for the later work at the metropolitan opera house. his interpretation of _lohengrin_ was adjudged most wonderfully poetical. reinald werrenrath studied first with his father. at the boys' high school and at new york university he was leader of musical affairs throughout the eight years spent in those schools. he studied violin with carl venth for four years, and had as his vocal teachers dr. carl dufft, frank king clark, dr. arthur mees, percy rector stephens and victor maurel, giving especial credit for his voice training to years of study with mr. stephens whose vocal teaching ideas he sketches in part in the following. he has appeared with immense success in concert and oratorio in all parts of the united states. his talking machine records have been in great demand for years, and his voice is known to thousands who have never seen him. his operatic début was in _pagliacci_, as _silvio_, in the metropolitan opera house, february , , where he later had specially fine success as _valentine_ in _faust_ and as the _toreador_ in _carmen_. new aspects of the art of singing in america reinald werrenrath every now and then someone asks me whether america is really becoming musical. all i can say is that a year ago i, with my accompanist, traveled over , miles, touching every part of this country and, during that eight months, singing almost nightly when the transit facilities would permit, found everywhere the very greatest enthusiasm for the very best music. of course, americans want some numbers on the program with the so-called "human" element; but at the same time they court the best in vocal art and seem never to get enough of it. all of my instruction has been received in america. all of my teachers, with the exception of my father and victor maurel, were born in america; so i may be called very much of an american product. just why americans should ever have been obsessed with the idea that it was impossible to teach voice successfully on this side of the atlantic is hard to tell. i have a suspicion that many like the adventure of foreign travel far more than the labor of study. probably ninety-five per cent. of the pupils who went over did so for the fascinating experience of living in a european environment rather than for the downright purpose of coming back great artists. therefore, we should not blame the european teachers altogether for the countless failures that have floated back to us almost on every tide. i have recently heard a report that many of the highest-priced and most efficient voice teachers in italy are americans who have italianized their names. certainly the most successful voice teachers in berlin were george ferguson and frank king clark, who was at the top of the list also in paris when he was there. the american singer should remember in these days that, first of all, he must sing in america and in the english language more than in any other. i am not one of those who decry singing in foreign languages. certain songs, it is true, cannot be translated so that their meaning can be completely understood in english; yet, if the reader will think for a moment, how is the american auditor to understand a single thought of a poem in a language of which he knows nothing? the italian is a glorious language for the singer, and with it english cannot be compared, with its thirty-one vowel sounds and its many coughing, sputtering consonants. training in italian solfeggios is very fine for creating a free, flowing style. many of the italian teachers were obsessed with the idea of the big tone. the audiences fired back volleys of "bravos!" and "da capos" when the tenor took off his plumed hat, stood on his toes and howled a high c. that was part of his stock in trade. naturally, he forced his voice, and most of the men singers quit at the age of fifty. i hope to be in my prime at that time, as my voice seems to grow better each year. battistini, who was born in , is an exception. his voice, i am told, is remarkably preserved. climatic conditions a serious handicap climatic conditions in many parts of america prove a serious handicap to the singer. at the same time, according to the law of the survival of the fittest, american singers must take care of themselves much better than the italians, for instance. the salubrious, balmy climate of most of italy is ideal for the throat. on our eastern seaboard i find that fifty per cent. of my audiences in winter seem to have colds and bronchitis. the singer who is obliged to tour must, of course, take every possible precaution against catching cold; and that means becoming infected from exposure to colds when the system is run down. i attempt to avoid colds by securing plenty of outdoor exercise. i always walk to my hotel and to the station when i have time; and i walk as much as i can during the day. when i am not singing i immediately start to play--to fish, swim or hunt in the woods if i can make an opportunity. operatic study in one respect europe is unquestionably superior to america for the vocal student. the student who wants to sing in opera will find in europe ten opportunities for gaining experience to one here. while we have a few more opera companies than twenty-five years ago, it is still a great task to secure even an opening. americans, outside of the great cities, do not seem to be especially inclined toward opera. they will accept a little of it when it is given to them by a superb company like the metropolitan. in new york we find a public more cosmopolitan than in any other city of the world, with the possible exception of london. in immediate ancestry it is more european than american, and naturally opera becomes a great public demand. seats sell at fabulous prices and the houses are crowded. next comes opera at popular prices; and we have one or two very good companies giving that with success. then there is the opera in america's other cosmopolitan center, chicago, where many world-famed artists appear. after that, opera in america is hardly worth mentioning. what chance has the student? only one who for years has been uniformed in a black dress suit and backed into the curve of the grand piano in a recital hall can know what it means to get out on the operatic stage, in those fantastic clothes, walk around, act, sing and at the same time watch the conductor with his ninety men. only he can know what the difference between singing in concert and on the operatic stage really is. yet old opera singers who enter the recital field invariably say that it is far harder to get up alone in a large hall and become the whole performance, aided and abetted only by an able accompanist, than it is to sing in opera. the recital has the effect of preserving the fineness of many operatic voices. modern opera has ruined dozens of fine vocal organs because of the tremendous strain made upon them and the tendency to neglect vocal art for dramatic impression. if there were more of the better _singing_ in opera, such as one hears from mr. caruso, there would be less comment upon opera as a bastard art. operatic work is very exhilarating. the difference between concert and opera for the singer is that between oatmeal porridge and an old vintage champagne. there is no time at the metropolitan for raw singers. the works in the repertoire must be known so well in the singing and the acting that they may be put on perfectly with the least possible rehearsals. therefore, the singer has no time for routine. the lack of a foreign name will keep no american singer out of the metropolitan; but the lack of the ability to save the company hundreds of dollars through needless waits at rehearsals will. natural methods of singing certainly no country in recent years has produced so many "corking" good singers as america. our voices are fresh, virile, pure and rich; when the teaching is right. our singers are for the most part finely educated and know how to interpret the texts intelligently. mr. w. j. henderson, the eminent new york critic, in his "art of singing," gave the following definition, which my former teacher, the late dr. carl dufft, endorsed very highly: "singing is the expression of a text by means of tones made by the human voice." more and more the truth of this comes to me. singing is not merely vocalizing but always a means of communication in which the artist must convey the message of the two great minds of the poet and the composer to his fellow man. in this the voice must be as natural as possible, as human as possible, and not merely a sugary tone. the german, the frenchman, the englishman and the american strive first for an intelligent interpretation of the text. the italian thinks of tone first and the text afterward, except in the modern italian school of realistic singing. for this one must consider the voice normally and sensibly. i owe my treatment of my voice largely to mr. stephens, with whom i have studied for the last eight years, taking a lesson every day i am in new york. this is advisable, i believe, because no matter how well one may think one sings, another trained mind with other ears may detect defects that might lead to serious difficulties later. his methods are difficult to describe; but a few main principles may be very interesting to vocalists. my daily work in practice is commenced by stretching exercises, in which i aim to free the muscles covering the upper part of the abdomen and the intercostal muscles at the side and back--all by stretching upward and writhing around, as it were, so that there cannot possibly be any constriction. then, with my elbows bent and my fists over my head, i stretch the muscles over my shoulders and shoulder blades. finally, i rotate my head upward and around, so that the muscles of the neck are freed and become very easy and flexible. while i am finishing with the last exercise i begin speaking in a fairly moderate tone such vowel combinations as "oh-ah," "oh-ah," "ee-ay," "ee-ay," "ee-ay-ee-ay-ee-ay," etc. while doing this i walk about the room so that there will not be any suggestion of stiltedness or vocal or muscular interference. at first this is done without the addition of any attempted nasal resonance. gradually nasal resonance is introduced with different spoken vowels, while at the same time every effort is made to preserve ease and flexibility of the entire body. then, when it seems as though the right vocal quality is coming, pitch is introduced at the most convenient range and exercises with pitch are taken through the range of the voice. the whole idea is to make the tones as natural and free and pure as possible with the least effort. i am opposed to the old idea of tone placing, in which the pupil toed a mark, set the throat at some prescribed angle, adjusted the tongue in some approved design, and then, gripped like the unfortunate victim in the old-fashioned photographer's irons, attempted to sing a sustained tone or a rapid scale. what was the result--consciousness and stiltedness and, as a rule, a tired throat and a ruined singer. these ideas may seem revolutionary to many. they are only a few of mr. stephens' very numerous devices; but for many years they have been of more benefit than anything else in keeping me vocally fit. we in the new world should be on the outlook for advance along all lines. our american composers have held far too close to european ideals and done too little real thinking for themselves. our vocal teachers and, for that matter, teachers in all branches of musical art in america have been most progressive in devising new ways and better methods. there will never be an american method of singing because we are too wise not to realize that every pupil needs different and special treatment. what is fine for one might be injurious to the next one. [illustration: evan williams.] evan williams biographical evan williams, as his name suggests, was of welsh ancestry, although born in trumbull county, ohio, sept. , . as a boy his singing attracted the attention of his friends and neighbors. when a young man he went to mme. louise von fielitsen, in cleveland, and studied under her for four years. at the end of this time it became necessary for him to earn money immediately, as he had married at the age of twenty. accordingly he went with the "primrose and west" minstrels for one season. everywhere he appeared his voice attracted enthusiastic attention. this aroused his ambition and in he went to new york where he was engaged at all angels church at a yearly salary of $ . . six months later the marble collegiate church took him over at $ . which was shortly raised to $ . . in he appeared at the worcester festival with great success and then went to new york to study with james sauvage for three years. notwithstanding his long terms of instruction with teachers of high reputation, mr. williams felt that he had still much to learn, as he would find himself singing finely one night and so badly on the next that he would resolve never to sing again. accordingly he studied with meehan for three years more. then he retired from the concert stage for three years in order to improve himself. deciding to appear in public again he went to london where he sang for three years with popular success. however, he was still dissatisfied with his voice. mr. williams' personal narrative tells how he got his voice back. his death, may , , prevented him from carrying out his project to become a teacher and thus introduce his discoveries. the following, therefore, becomes of interesting historical significance. how i regained a lost voice evan williams there is nothing so disquieting to the singer as the feeling that his voice, upon which his artistic hopes, to say nothing of his livelihood, depend, is not a reliable organ, but a fickle thing which to-day may be in splendid condition but to-morrow may be gone. time and again i have been driven to the verge of desperation by my own voice. while i am grateful to all of my excellent teachers for the many valuable things they taught me, i had a strong feeling that there was something which i must know and which only i myself could find out for myself. after a very wide experience here and in england i found myself with so little confidence in my ability to produce uniformly excellent results when on the concert stage, that i retired to akron, ohio, resolving to spend the rest of my life in teaching. there i remained for four years, thinking out the great problem that confronted me. it is only during the last year that i have become convinced that i have solved it. my musical work has made me well-to-do and i want now to give my ideas to the world so that others may profit if they find them valuable. i have nothing to sell--but i trust that i can put into words, without inventing a new and bewildering nomenclature, something that will prove of practical assistance to young singers as it has been to me. an indisputable record in i left akron and resolved to try to reinstate myself in new york as a singer. i also made talking machine records, only to find that seldom could i make a record at the first attempt that was up to the very high standard maintained by the company in the case of all records placed upon the market for sale. this meant a great waste of my time and the company's material and services. it naturally set me thinking. if i could do it one time--why couldn't i do it all the time? there was no contradicting the talking machine record. the machine records the slightest blemish as well as the most perfect tone. there was no getting away from the fact that sometimes my singing was far from what i wished it to be. the strange thing about it all was that my singing did not seem to depend upon the physical condition or feeling of my throat. some days when my throat felt at its very best the records would come back in a way that i was ashamed of. it is a strange feeling to hear one's own voice from the talking machine. it sounds quite differently from the impression one gets while singing. i began to ponder, why were some of my records poor and others good? after deep thought for a very long period of time, i commenced to make certain postulates which i believe i have since proved (to my own satisfaction at least) to be reasonable and true. they not only resulted in an improvement in my voice, but they enabled me to do at command what i had previously been able to do only occasionally. they are: i. tone creates its own support. ii. much of the time spent in elaborate breathing exercises (while excellent for the health and valuable to the singer, in a way) do not produce the results that are expected. iii. the singer's first studies should be with his brain and ear, rather than through an attempt at muscular control of the breathing muscles. iv. vocal resonance can be developed through a proper understanding of tone color (vocal timbre), so that uniformly excellent production of tones will result. tone creates its own support the first two postulates can be discussed as one. tone creates its own support. how does a bird learn to sing? how does the animal learn to cry? how does the lion learn to roar? or the donkey learn to bray? by practicing breathing exercises? most certainly not. i have known many, many singers with splendid voices who have never heard of breathing exercises. go out into the welsh mining districts and listen to the voices. they learn to breathe by learning how to sing, and by singing. these men have lungs that the average vocal student would give a fortune to possess. by singing correctly they acquire all the lung control that any vocal composition could demand. as a matter of fact, one does not need such a huge amount of breath to sing. the average singer uses entirely too much. a goose has lungs ten times as large as a nightingale but that doesn't make the goose's song lovely to listen to. i have known men with lungs big enough to work a blast furnace who yet had little bits of voices, so small that they were ridiculous. it would be better for most vocal students to emit the breath for five seconds before attacking the tone. one of the reasons for much vocal forcing is too much breath. maybe i haven't thought about these things! i have spent hours in silence making up my mind. it is my firm conviction that the average person (entirely without instruction in breathing of a special kind) has enough breath to sing any phrase one might be called upon to sing. i think, without question, that teachers and singers have all been working their heads off to develop strength in the wrong direction. mind you--this is not a sermon against breathing. i believe in plenty of breathing exercises for the sake of one's health. a good position singers study breathing as though they were trying to learn how to push out the voice or pull it out by suction. by standing in a sensible position with the chest high (but not forced up) the lung capacity of the average individual is quite surprising. a good position can be secured through the old delsarte exercise which is as follows: i. stand on the balls of your feet, heels just touching the floor. ii. hold your arms at your side in a relaxed condition. iii. move your arms forward until they form an angle of forty-five degrees with the body. press the palms down until the chest is up comfortably. iv. now let your arms drop back without letting your chest fall. feel a sense of ease and freedom over the whole body. breathe naturally and deeply. in other words, to "poise" the breath, stand erect, at attention. most people when called to this "attention" posture stiffen themselves so that they are in a position of resistance. when i say _attention_,--i mean the position in which you have alertness but at the same time complete freedom,--when you can freely smile, sigh, scowl and sneer,--the attention that will permit expansion of the chest with every change of mood. then, open the mouth without inhaling. let the breath out for five seconds, close the mouth and inhale through the nostrils. i keep the fact that i breathe into the lungs through the nostrils before me all the time. again open the mouth without allowing the air to pass in. practice this until a comfortable stretch is felt in the flesh of the face, the top of the head, the back, the chest and the abdomen. if you stretch violently you will not experience this feeling. sensations i fully realize that much of what i have said will not be in accord with what is preached, practiced and taught by many vocal teachers and i cannot attempt to reply to any critics. i merely know what sensations and experiences i have had after a lifetime of practical work in a profession which has brought me a fortune. furthermore i know that anything anyone might say on the subject of the human voice would be at variance with the opinions of others. there is probably no subject in human ken in which there is such a marked difference of opinion. i can merely try to describe my own sensations and vocal experiences. in trying to represent the course of the sensation i experience in producing a good tone, i have employed the following illustration. imagine two pieces of whip cord. tie the ends together. place the knot immediately under the upper lip directly beneath the center bone of the nose, run the strings straight back for an inch, then up over the cheek bones, then down around the uvula, thence down the large cords inside the neck. at a point in the center between the shoulders the cords would split in order to let one set go down the back and the other toward the chest, meeting again under the arm-pits, thence down the short ribs, thence down and joining in another knot slightly back of the pelvic bone. laugh, if you will, but this is actually the sensation i have repeatedly felt in producing what the talking machine has shown to be a good tone. remember that there were plenty to laugh at columbus, gallileo and even darius green of the flying machine. stand in "attention" as directed, with the body responsive and the mind sensitive to physical impressions. when opening the mouth without taking in air a slight stretch will be experienced along the whole track i have described. the poise felt in this position is what permitted bob fitzsimmons to strike a deadly blow with a two-inch stroke. it is the responsive poise with which i sing both loud and soft tones. furthermore, i do not believe in an absolutely relaxed lower jaw as though it had been broken. who could sing with a broken jaw?--and a broken jaw would represent ideal relaxation. the jaw should be slightly stretched but never strained. i think that the word relaxation, as used by most teachers and as understood by most students, is responsible for more ruined voices than all other terms used in vocal teaching. i have talked this matter over with numberless great singers who are constantly before the public, and their very singing is the best contradiction of this. when you hold your hand out freely before you what is it that keeps it from falling at your side? that same condition controls the jaw. find it: it is not relaxation. if you would be a perfect singer find the juggler who is balancing a feather. imagine yourself poised on the top of that feather, and sing without falling off. contrasting timbres that lead to a beautiful tone when combined we shall now seek to illustrate two contrasting qualities of tones, between which lies that quality which i sought for so long. the desired quality is not a compromise, but seems to be located half way between two extremes, and may best be brought to the attention of the reader by describing the extremes. the first is a dark quality of tone. to get this, place the tips of the second fingers on the sides of the voice box (adam's apple) and make a dark almost breathy sound, using "u" as in the word hum. do this without any signs of strain. allow the sound to float up into the mouth and nose. to many there will also be a sensation as though the sound were also floating down into the lungs (into both lungs). do not make any conscious effort to force the sound or place it in any particular location. the sound will do it of its own accord if you do not strain. while the sound is being made, there will be a slight upward pulling of the voice box, a slight tugging at the voice box. this, of course, occurs automatically, and there should be no attempt to control it or promote it. it is nature at work. the tongue, while making this sound, should be limp, with the tip resting on the lower front teeth. all along it is necessary to caution the singer not to strive to do artificial things. therefore do not poke or stick the tip of your tongue against the front teeth. if your tongue is not strained it will rest there naturally. work at this exercise until you can fill the mouth and nose (and also seemingly the chest) with a rich, smooth, well-controlled, well-modulated dark sound and do it easily,--with slight effort. do not try to hold the sound in the throat. the second sound we shall experiment with is the extreme antithesis of the first sound. its resonance is high and it is bright in every sense. place the fingers on the joints just in front and above holes in the ears. open the mouth without inhaling and make the sound of "e" as in when. as the dark sound described before cannot be made too dark this sound cannot be made too strident. it is the extreme from the rumble of the drum to the piercing rasp of the file. i have called it the animal sound, and in calling it strident, please do not infer that the nose, or any part of the mouth or soft palate, should be pinched to make it nasal, in the restricted sense of that term. when i sing this tone it is accompanied with a sensation as though the tone were being reflected downward from the voice box over to each side of the chest just in front of the arm-pits and then downward into the abdomen. here the great danger arises that the unskilled student will try to produce this sensation, whereas the fact of the matter is that the sensation is the accompaniment of the properly produced tone and cannot be made artificially. don't work for the sensation, work for the tone that produces such a sensation. at the same time the tone has a sensation of upward reflection, as though it arose at the back of the voice box and separated there, passed up behind the jaws to the points where your fingers are resting, entering the mouth from above, as it were from a point just between the hard and soft palates, and becoming one sound in the mouth. the uvula and part of the soft palate should be associated with the dark sound. the hard palate and part of the soft palate should be associated with the strident tone. the tongue position in making the strident sound the tongue should rest in the same position as for the dark sound. the dark tone never changes and is the basic sound which gives fullness, foundation, depth to the ultimate tone. without it all voices are thin and unsubstantial. the nearer the singer gets to this the nearer he approaches the great vibrating base upon which the world is founded. remember that the dark tone never changes. it is the background, the canvas upon which the singer paints his infinite moods by means of different vowels, emotions, and the tone colors which are derived in numberless modifications from the strident tone. another simile may bring the subject nearer to the reader student. imagine the dark tone and all the sensations in different parts of the body as a kind of atmosphere or gas which requires to be set on fire by the electric spark of the strident tone. the dark tone is all necessary, but it is useless unless it is properly electrified by the strident tone. a practical step how shall we utilize what we have learned, so that the student may convince himself that herein ties the truth which, properly understood and sensibly applied, will lead to a means of improving his tone. if the foregoing has been carefully read and understood, the following exercise to get the tone which results from a combination of the dark and the strident is simple. i. stand erect as directed. ii. open the mouth _without inhaling_. iii. produce the dark tone ("u" as in hum). iv. close the mouth and allow the air to pass in and out of the nostrils for a few seconds. v. open the mouth without inhaling. vi. make the strident sound ("e" as in when). vii. close the mouth and let the air pass in and out of nostrils a few seconds. viii. open the mouth without inhaling. ix. sing the vowel "ah" as in _father_ in such a manner that it is a combination of the dark tone and the strident tone. x. do this in such a way that all of the breathy disagreeable features of the dark tone disappear but its foundation features remain to give it fullness and roundness, while all of the disagreeable features of the strident tone disappear although its color-giving, light-giving, life-giving characteristics are retained to give the combination-tone richness and sweetness. a beautiful result is inevitable, if the principle is properly understood. i have tried this with many people who have sung but little before in their lives and who were not conscious of having interesting voices. without a long course of vocal lessons or anything of the sort they have been able to produce in a short time--a very few minutes--a tone that would be admired by any critic. a comfortable pitch it is to be assumed that the student will, in these experiments, take the pitch in his voice which is most comfortable. having mastered the combination tone on "ah" at any pitch, it will be easy to try other pitches and other vowels. "ah" is the natural vowel, but having secured the "know how" through a correct production of "ah" the same results may be attained with any other vowel produced in a similar way. "e" as in _see_ has of course more of the strident quality, the high, bright quality and "oo" as in moon more of the dark, but even these extreme tones may be so placed that they become enriched through the employment of resonance of all those parts of the mouth, nose and body which may be brought naturally to reinforce them. "ping" i have never met a singer who was not looking for "ping" or what is called brightness. most voices are hopelessly dead, and therefore lack sweetness. the voices are filled with night--black hollow gloomy night or else they are as strident as the caterwauling of a tom cat. the happy mean between the extremes is the area in which the singer's greatest results are attained. think of your tone, always. the breath will then take care of itself. if the tone has a tremulo, or sounds stuffy or sounds weak, you have not apportioned the right amount of breath to it, but you are not going to gain this information by thinking of the breath but by thinking of the tone. let your own ears convince you now, that is all there is to it. i am not striving to found a method or anything of the sort; but i have seen students waste years on what is called "voice placing" and not come to anything like the same result that will come after the accomplishment of this simple matter. try it out with your own voice. you will see in a short time what it will do. your own ears will convince you, to say nothing of the ears of your friends. all i know is that after i discovered this, it was possible for me to employ it and make records with so small a percentage of discard that i have been surprised. it remains for the intelligent teachers to apply such knowledge to a systematic vocal course of exercises, studies and songs, which will help the pupil to progress most rapidly. don't think that i am pretending to tell all that there is to vocal culture in an hour. it is a great and important study upon which i have spent a lifetime. however, as i said before, i have nothing to sell and i am only too happy to give this information which has cost me so many hours of thought to crystallize. typographical errors corrected by the transcriber of this etext: talmadge=>talmage artious=>artibus citadal=>citadel wohltemperites=>wohltemperiertes liebenswurdig=>liebenswürdig délibes=>delibes words not changed: unforgetable, skilful, beyreuth, marvelous voice production in singing and speaking based on scientific principles by wesley mills, m.a., m.d., f.r.s.c. emeritus professor of physiology in mcgill university, and lecturer on vocal physiology and hygiene in the mcgill university conservatorium of music, montreal, canada _fourth edition, revised and enlarged_ [illustration: publisher logo] philadelphia & london j.b. lippincott company copyright, , by j.b. lippincott company the rights of translation and all other rights reserved copyright, , by j.b. lippincott company electrotyped and printed by j.b. lippincott company, philadelphia, u.s.a. [transcriber's notes: in this e-text, illustrations of music notation have been rendered using standard text notation, e.g.: c = c two octaves below middle c; c = c one octave below middle c; c' = middle c; c'' = c one octave above middle c, etc. macrons are indicated thus: [=a], [=e], [=i], [=o], [=u].] [illustration: illustrations of the appearance of the larynx during phonation in two special cases. (grünwald.)] explanation of the colored illustrations. they contrast with each other in that the one (upper) is too red; the other, too pale. the upper represents appearances such as one gets with the laryngoscope when the subject has a very severe cold, or even inflammation of the larynx, including the central vocal bands. in this particular case, a young woman of twenty-five years of age, there was inflammation with a certain amount of weakness of the internal thyro-arytenoid muscles. speaking was almost impossible, and such voice as was produced was of a very rough character. in the lower illustration we have the appearances presented in a man affected with tuberculosis of the lungs and larynx. the pallor of the larynx is characteristic. there is weakness of the internal thyro-arytenoid muscle on the right side, which results in imperfect tension of the vocal band on that side, so that the voice is uncertain and harsh. such illustrations are introduced to impress the normal by contrast. the reader is strongly advised to compare these figures with others in the body of the work, especially those of chapter vii. preface to the fourth revised and enlarged edition. in addition to certain emendations, etc., introduced throughout the work, i have thought it well to add a chapter in which the whole subject is treated in a broad and comprehensive way in the light of the latest scientific knowledge. in this review the psychological aspects of the subject have not been neglected, and the whole has been related to practice to as great an extent as the character of the book permits. it is significant that on both sides of the atlantic there is a growing conviction that the foundations for speaking and singing as an art must be made as scientific as the state of our knowledge will permit. the author. january, . preface to the third edition. no preface to the second edition was written, so few were the changes that were made in the work, and the same might apply to this third edition. however, the fact that within a period of less than two years, a second english and a third american edition have been called for, seems to the author to be so conclusive an endorsement of the application of science to vocal art, that he may be entitled at least to express his gratification at the progress the cause, to which he has devoted his pen, is making. it would seem that the better portion at least of that public that is interested in the progress of vocal art has made up its mind that the time has come when sense and science must replace tradition and empiricism. the author. montreal, september, . preface. the present work is based on a life study of the voice, and has grown out of the conviction that all teaching and learning in voice-culture, whether for the purposes of singing or speaking, should as far as possible rest on a scientific foundation. the author, believing that practice and principles have been too much separated, has endeavored to combine them in this book. his purpose has not been to write an exhaustive work on vocal physiology, with references at every step to the views of various authors; rather has he tried always to keep in mind the real needs of the practical voice-user, and to give him a sure foundation for the principles that must underlie sound practice. a perusal of the first chapter of the work will give the reader a clearer idea of the author's purpose as briefly expressed above. the writer bespeaks an unprejudiced hearing, being convinced that in art as in all else there is but one ultimate court of appeal: to the scientific, the demonstrable--to what lies at the very foundations of human nature. in conclusion, the author desires to thank those publishers and authors who have kindly permitted the use of their illustrations. the author. mcgill university, montreal, october, . table of contents. chapter i. the claims and importance of vocal physiology. science and art--the engineer, architect, physician, nurse, and others, compared with the vocal teacher and learner--unfavorable tendencies--the old masters--the great elocutionists--causes of failure--the lack of an adequate technique--correct methods are physiological--summary of the advantages of teaching and learning based on scientific principles--illustrations of the application of physiological principles to actual cases--the evils from which speakers and singers suffer owing to wrong methods--speaking and singing based on the same principles--relation of hygiene to physiology chapter ii. general physiological principles. relations of animals to each other--common properties of living matter--explanation of these--the mammal and man--the stimulus and its results--the one-celled animal--various "systems"necessary--complexity of structure and function--harmony through the nervous system--the rule of nervous centres--means by which they are influenced, and by which they influence--reflex action--muscular mechanisms and neuro-muscular mechanisms--work of the singer and speaker largely reflex in character--summary chapter iii. breathing considered theoretically and practically. breathing the great essential--misconceptions--purpose of breathing as a vital process--the respiratory organs--their nature--relations of the lungs to the chest-wall--expansion of the chest--its diameters--the muscles of respiration--personal observation--the diaphragm--varying quantities of air breathed--breathing when properly carried out by the singer or speaker is healthful chapter iv. breathing further considered theoretically and practically. relations of the nervous system to breathing--the respiratory centre--reflex action in breathing--methods of preventing nervousness--tones produced by the outgoing breath--waste of breath--the happy combination for good singing or speaking chapter v. breathing with special regard to practical considerations. the well-developed chest--the voice-user a kind of athlete--the tremolo--exercises recommended for the development of the chest--forms of dress that hamper breathing--weighing and measuring, re-measurement, etc.--specific directions for methods to develop the chest--warnings--additional exercises--breathing through the nose and through the mouth--exercises for the development of the diaphragm and abdominal muscles--relation of the diaphragm to the staccato effect--forms of general exercise for the voice-user--summary chapter vi. the special voice-producing mechanism, the larynx. not the only voice-producing apparatus--specific structures of the larynx in use when the subject phonates--muscles and their attachments--the cartilages of the larynx--the lining mucous membrane--changes in it when one has a "cold"--the vocal bands--functions of the epiglottis--the "middle line" and relative position of parts--adam's apple--ventricle of the larynx--the importance of the arytenoid cartilages--muscles of the larynx in detail--sphincter action--straining--position of the larynx--practical considerations--dissection of a "pluck" and especially of the larynx--hygiene--how disorder of one part may affect another--summary chapter vii. sound--the laryngoscope--the larynx reconsidered. some study of physics desirable--sound and vibrations--the sounding body--experiments to illustrate the principles of sound--qualities of sound--animals and perception of sound--the range of hearing in man--the larynx as a musical instrument--experiments of johannes müller--discovery of the laryngoscope by garcia--description of the instrument--method of using the laryngoscope--the difficulties--auto-laryngoscopy--the importance of both laryngoscopy and auto-laryngoscopy--change in size of the larynx due to use--delicate changes in the laryngeal mechanism--changes in the larynx during adolescence--warnings--the "breaking" of the voice--analogies with fatigue, etc.--when should singing be begun?--singing with others--choral singing chapter viii. further consideration of breathing, laryngeal adjustment, etc. various kinds of breathing, as "abdominal," "clavicular," etc., discussed--control of the whole of the breathing mechanism urged--correct breathing as a habit--breathing in the most vigorous speaking and singing--different views expressed by a diagram--economy of energy in art--reserve energy in breathing--"pumping"--_coup de glotte_--"attack"--breath-adjustment--quality of sound the prime consideration in tone-production--tremolo and other faults--tests of good breathing--mouth-breathing--exercises--singing of a single tone--its relation to scale-singing--summary and review chapter ix. the resonance-chambers. vocal bands and resonance-chambers compared--improvised mechanism to illustrate resonance--musical instruments as resonance-bodies--a vowel in relation to the resonance-chambers--description of the resonance-chambers--how the quality of tones may be made to vary--new views as to the sounding-chambers--summary chapter x. the registers of the singing voice. a controverted subject--definitions of a register--qualifications for dealing with this subject--madame seiler--tabular statement of her views--garcia's and behnke's divisions of registers--sir morell mackenzie's views in detail--the author's earlier investigations--madame marchesi's views and practice chapter xi. further consideration of the registers of the singing voice. auto-laryngoscopy and photography of the larynx--dogmatism and science--confusion and controversy--the break--ignoring registers--modification of tones, or "covering"--points of agreement between different writers on the subject--the falsetto for males--madame seiler's special qualifications--behnke's and mackenzie's views--the author's conclusions--rule for the extension of a register--why certain artists deteriorate while others do not---males and females compared as to registers--the division of the registers for female voices recommended by the author--teacher and pupil as regards registers--objection to registers answered--the manner of using the breath and registers--how to distinguish registers--the teacher's part--hearing singers of eminence is recommended--madame melba--guiding sensations--summary chapter xii. fundamental principles underlying voice-production. artistic expression only through movements--emotions and technique--relation of ideas to movements--memories and movements--guiding sensations essential for movements--the principles underlying all movements the same--associated reflexes and habits--how habits are formed--inhibitions and their importance--early practices only before the teacher--careful practice with concentration of energy the best--queries as to practice--fatigue a warning--practice in the early hours of the day, and short of fatigue--quality to be aimed at rather than quantity--the total amount of time to be devoted to practice--"hasten slowly;" "little and often"--the treatment of the voice ruined by wrong methods--summary chapter xiii. chiefly an application to voice-production of facts and principles previously considered. vowels, consonants, noise--consonants and pauses--voice-production and vowels--certain vowel sounds common to most languages--why german and english are relatively unmusical--the needs of the musical artist--the mechanism required for the production of a vowel sound--reconsideration of the resonance-chambers--the larynx to be steadied but not held rigidly immovable--the principal modifiers of the shape of the mouth-cavity--breath to be taken through the mouth--the lips--tongue and lip practice before a mirror--importance of the connection between the ear and the mouth parts, etc--"open mouth"--the mouth in singing a descending scale--undue opening of the mouth--proper method of opening the mouth--causes of compression and the consequences chapter xiv. some specific applications of principles in tone-production. principles and their expression in a few exercises--analysis of the methods of tone-production--the sustained tone--smoothly linked tones--the legato--the staccato and kindred effects--the mechanisms concerned--perfection requires years of careful practice--the bel canto and the swell--the same exercises for singer and speaker--"forward," "backward," etc., production--escape of breath--the action of the soft palate--when to use "forward" and when "backward" production--voice-placement--nasal resonance, not nasal twang--summary chapter xv. the elements of speech and song. the subject may be made dry or the reverse--vowels, consonants, noise--the position of the lips and the shape of the mouth-cavity in sounding the various vowels--how to demonstrate that the mouth-cavity is a resonance-chamber--practical considerations growing out of the above--speaker, vocalist, and composer--bearing of these facts on the learning of languages--consonants as musical nuisances--their great variation in pitch--brücke's division of consonants--tabulation of the same chapter xvi. further theoretical and practical consideration of vowels and consonants. the best vowel to use in practice--necessary to practise all--the guttural _r_ and the lingual _r_--consonants that favor nasality of tone--overtones and fundamental tones--relation of intensity and quality--the carrying power of a tone--unusual distinctness in practice as related to ease--the registers of the speaking voice according to madame seiler--the range in speaking--summary chapter xvii. the hearing apparatus and hearing in music. why this chapter is introduced--the essential mechanism of hearing--the part played by waves and vibrations--divisions of the ear--the external ear in lower animals--the drum-head or tympanic membrane--the middle ear and its connections--relation of the throat and the ear--the inner ear or labyrinth--the end-organ and its relations--the connection of the ear and various parts of the brain--the musician's ear--relation of music and hearing--lack of ear and inattention--the artist and the musician--the ear and the speaking voice--general musical training in relation to intonation, etc--the appreciation of music, and training to that end--the art of listening with close attention--summary chapter xviii. consideration of general and special hygiene and related subjects. hygienic as related to physiological principles--hygiene in the widest sense--unfavorable conditions in the public life of an artist--qualifications for success--technique and a public career--the isolation of the artist and its dangers--the need for greater preparation now than ever--choral singing and its possible dangers--the tendencies of the wagner music-drama--special faults, as the "scoop," "_vibrato_," "_tremolo_," "pumping"--desirability of consultations by teachers of the use of the voice--things the voice-user should avoid--mouth-toilets--lozenges--the sipping of water--what one should and should not eat--tea and coffee--the whole subject of congestion from compression, straining, etc., of the utmost importance--a sore throat when frequent should give rise to inquiry as to methods--constipation--exercise--bathing chapter xix. further treatment of physical and mental hygiene. stammering and stuttering--those who have broken down--the increase of the range of a voice--the part the student plays in settling such questions--selections to be avoided--conservation of energy--change and contrast--the voice as related to the building in which it is produced--the listener and pauses--nervousness, and how to ward it off--general conclusion chapter xx. review and revision. the object of the speaker or singer--the idea of co-ordination--the study of vocalization may be considered a study of movements--the psychic condition--the instrument which is played upon--how is this instrument played upon?--vibration of the air--breathing--the aim of all training--the whole subject of breathing--breathing exercises--the resonance chambers--the formation of vowels--muscular efforts for the production of consonants--the pronunciation of words--general health of great importance list of illustrations. fig. page appearance of the larynx during phonation in two special cases (in colors) _frontispiece_ . muscle-fibres from the heart, much magnified . small portion of muscle, moderately magnified . muscle-cells from coats of intestine . body of a nerve-cell of the spinal cord . large nerve-cell from spinal cord of an ox . cell from the cortex cerebri - . nerve terminating in a muscle - . muscle-fibres with capillaries around and between them . parts of the respiratory apparatus . trachea and bronchial tubes . heart, lungs, and diaphragm . diagram showing changes in shape of chest during inspiration . diagram showing depression of the diaphragm during inspiration . position of diaphragm, abdominal walls, etc., during expiration . diagram illustrating reflex action . a well-developed, healthy chest . a chest deformed by corsets . normal position of diaphragm and vital organs . vital organs misplaced by compression of the chest . thyroid and cricoid cartilages, side view . thyroid and cricoid cartilages, front view . back surface of cricoid cartilage . cricoid cartilage, side view. . arytenoid cartilages . a view of the larynx from behind . epiglottis, thyroid and cricoid cartilages, etc. - . hyoid bone, crico-thyroid muscle, etc. - . posterior view of the larynx . diagram showing relation of parts to the thyroid cartilage . diagram showing the action of crico-thyroid muscle . view of larynx from above . transverse section of larynx . false and true vocal bands, etc. . inner surface of the larynx . diagram to show the action of the laryngeal muscles . registering the vibrations of a tuning-fork . illustrating the transmission of vibrations . illustrating the theory and practice of laryngoscopic examination . illustrating the practice of laryngoscopic examination . laryngoscopic picture of male larynx . laryngoscopic picture of female larynx . larynx during an attack of a common "cold" . the vocal bands as seen with laryngoscope during deep inspiration . diagram showing form of chest and abdomen in forced abdominal breathing . the vocal bands during the production of a high-pitched tone . water being poured into a tube until the remaining air-space becomes a resonator of a tuning-fork . soft palate, fauces, and tonsils - . nares and soft palate, from behind - . turbinated bones of the nose . madame seiler's division of the registers . appearance of the vocal bands when sounding first e and then f sharp . diagram to show the nature of registers and breaks . diagram of the processes involved in singing . highly magnified diagramatic representation of a section through the superficial part of the great brain . nerve-cell from the outer rind of the great brain, much magnified . position of parts in sounding the vowel a . position of the parts in sounding i . position of the parts in sounding ou . position of the parts in sounding t, k, f, r, n, and p . vertical section of the auditory apparatus . diagram of the auditory apparatus . two of the ear-bones (malleus and incus), enlarged . the complete chain of auditory ossicles voice production chapter i. the claims and importance of vocal physiology. to know consciously and to do with special reference to guiding principles are to be distinguished from carrying out some process without bearing in mind the why or wherefore. science is exact and related knowledge, facts bound together by principles. art is execution, doing, and has not necessarily any conscious reference to principles. while every art has its corresponding science, their relation is in some cases of much greater practical importance than in others. while a painter may be the better for knowing the laws of light, there can be no question that he may do very good work without any knowledge whatever of the science of optics. he is at least in no danger of injuring any part of his person. entirely otherwise is it with the voice-user. he employs a delicate and easily injured vital apparatus. his results depend on the most accurate adjustment of certain neuro-muscular mechanisms, and one might suppose that it would be obvious to all who are concerned with this art that a knowledge of the structure and functions of these delicate arrangements of nature would be at least of great if not of essential importance. the engineer knows the structure and uses of each part of his engine, and does not trust to unintelligent observation of the mere working of mechanisms which others have constructed. the architect studies not only the principles of design, etc., but also the nature and relative value of materials. in his own way he is a kind of anatomist and physiologist. we do not trust the care of our bodies to those who have picked up a few methods of treatment by experience or the imitation of others. the doctor must have, we all believe, a knowledge of the structure and working of the animal body; he must understand the action of drugs and other healing agents. we expect him not only to diagnose the disease--to tell us exactly what is the matter--but also to be able to predict with, some degree of certainty the course of the malady. even the nurse of the day must show some grasp of the principles underlying her art. in connection with all the largest and best equipped universities in america there are officials to plan and direct the courses in physical culture. this matter is no longer entrusted to a "trainer," who has only his experience and observation to rely upon. it is realized that the building up of the mechanism which they are supposed to train in an intelligent manner rests upon well-established principles. it would be just as reasonable for an engineer to point to the fact that his engine works well, as evidence of his ability, as for the teacher of voice-production to make the same claim in regard to the vocal mechanism. in each case there is a certain amount of justification for the claim, but such teaching cannot be called scientific. is it even enlightened? it is just as rational to follow in medicine methods that seem to lead to good results, without any reference to the reason why, as to train for results in speaking and singing by methods which have for the student and teacher no conscious basis in scientific knowledge. the physician to-day who treats disease without reference to anatomy and physiology is, at best, but a sort of respectable charlatan. why should students and teachers of voice-production be content to remain, in the advanced present, where they were hundreds of years ago? indeed, there is much more reason now than formerly why the vocalist, speaker, and teacher should have a theoretical and practical knowledge of the structure and workings of the mechanism employed. many tendencies of the present day work against successful voice-training--worst of all, perhaps, the spirit of haste, the desire to reach ends by short cuts, the aim to substitute tricky for straightforward vocalization, and much more which i shall refer to again and again. they hurt this cause; and i am deeply impressed with the conviction that, if we are to attain the best results in singing and speaking, we must betake ourselves in practice to the methods in vogue at a time which may be justly characterized as the golden age of voice-production. we have advanced, musically, in many respects since the days of the old italian masters, but just as we must turn to the greeks to learn what constitutes the highest and best in sculpture, so must we sit at the feet of these old masters. consciously or unconsciously they taught on sound physiological principles, and they insisted on the voice-training absolutely necessary to the attainment of the best art. however talented any individual may be, he can only produce the best results as a singer, actor, or speaker, when the mechanisms by which he hopes to influence his listeners are adequately trained. why do we look in vain to-day for elocutionists such as vandenhoff, bell, and others? why are there not actors with the voices of garrick, kean, kemble, or mrs. siddons, or singers with the vocal powers of a score of celebrities of a former time? it is not that voices are rarer, or talent less widely bestowed by nature. it is because _we do not to-day pursue right methods for a sufficient length of time_; because our methods rest frequently on a foundation less physiological, and therefore less sound. take a single instance, breath-control. in this alone singers to-day are far behind those of the old italian period, not always because they do not know how to breathe, but because often they are unwilling to give the time necessary for the full development of adequate breathing power and control. there was probably never a time when so much attention was paid to the interpretation of music, yet the results are often unsatisfactory because of inadequate technique. people seem to hope to impress us, on the stage, with voices that from a technical point of view are crude and undeveloped, and accordingly lack beauty and expressiveness. speakers to-day have often every qualification except voice--a voice that can arrest attention, charm with its music, or carry conviction by the adequate expression of the idea or emotion intended. is it not strange that a student of the piano or violin is willing to devote perhaps ten years to the study of the technique of his instrument, while the voice-user expects to succeed with a period of vocal practice extending over a year or two, possibly even only a few months? when the anatomy and physiology of the larynx are considered, it will be seen that the muscular mechanisms concerned in voice-production are of a delicacy unequalled anywhere in the body except possibly in the eye and the ear. and when it is further considered that these elaborate and sensitive mechanisms of the larynx are of little use except when adequately put into action by the breath-stream, which again involves hosts of other muscular movements, and the whole in relation to the parts of the vocal apparatus above the larynx, the mouth, nose, etc., it becomes clear that only long, patient, and _intelligent_ study will lead to the highest results. it should also be remembered that such an apparatus can easily acquire habits which may last for life, for good or ill, artistically considered. such delicate mechanisms can also be easily injured or hopelessly ruined; and, as a matter of fact, this is being done daily. a great musical periodical has made the statement that thousands of voices are being ruined annually, in america alone, by incompetent teaching. my experience when a practising laryngologist made me acquainted with the extent of the ruin that may be brought about by incorrect methods of using the voice, both as regards the throat and the voice itself; and contact with teachers and students has so impressed me with the importance of placing voice-production on a sound foundation, not only artistic but physiological, that i have felt constrained to tell others who may be willing to hear me what i have learned as to correct methods, with some reference also to wrong ones, though the latter are so numerous that i shall not be able to find the space to deal at length with them. the correct methods of singing and speaking are always, of necessity, physiological. others may satisfy a vitiated or undeveloped public taste, but what is artistically sound is also physiological. none have ever sung with more ease than those taught by the correct methods of the old italian masters; as none run so easily as the wisely trained athlete, and none endure so well. people in singing and speaking will, as in other cases, get what they work for, but have no right to expect to sing or speak effectively by inspiration, any more than the athlete to win a race because he is born naturally fleet of foot or with a quick intelligence. in each case the ideas are converted into performance, the results attained, by the exercise of neuro-muscular mechanisms. i am most anxious that it shall be perceived that this is the case, that the same laws apply to voice-production as to running or any other exercise. the difference is one of delicacy and complexity so far as the body is concerned. it will be understood that i speak only of the technique. for art there must be more than technique, but there is no art without good methods of execution, which constitute technique. the latter is nothing more than method--manner of performance. behind these methods of performance, or the simplest part of them, there must be some idea. the more intelligent the student, speaker or singer, as to his art and generally, the better for the teacher who instructs scientifically, though such intelligence is largely lost to the teacher who depends on tradition and pure imitation. in the present work i shall be so concerned with the physical that i shall be able only to refer briefly to the part that intelligence and feeling play in the result. the qualifications for the successful treatment of vocal physiology--that is, such a discussion of the subject as shall lead to a clear comprehension of the nature of the principles involved, and place them on a practical foundation, make them at once usable in actual study and in teaching--such qualifications are many, and, in their totality and in an adequate degree, difficult to attain. after more than twenty years of the best study i could give to this subject in both a theoretical and a practical manner, i feel that i have something to say which may be useful to a large class, and, so far as i know, that is my reason for writing this book. for myself music is indispensable. the one instrument we all possess is a voice-mechanism. i am one of those who regret that so little attention is paid, especially in america, to pleasing and expressive use of the voice in ordinary conversation. yet how much pleasure cannot a beautiful speaking voice convey! the college undergraduate rarely finds vocal study among the requirements, in spite of the fact that the voice is an instrument that he will use much more than the pen. the truth is, the home methods of voice-production are those we are most likely to carry with us through life, and, unfortunately, little attention is given to the subject. sometimes a love of sweet sounds may be a hidden cause for much that would otherwise be inexplicable in an entire career, as in my own case. it led to an early study of singers and actors and their performances; it gave rise to an effort to form a voice that would meet the requirements of an unusually sensitive ear; it led to the practice and teaching of elocution, and, later, to much communion with voice-users, both singers and speakers. in the meantime came medical practice, with speedy specialization as a laryngologist, when there were daily consultations with singers and speakers who had employed wrong methods of voice-production; this again led on to the scientific investigation of voice problems, with a view of settling certain disputed points; then came renewed and deeper study of music, both as an art and as a science, with a profound interest in the study of the philosophy of musical art and the psychological study of the musical artist, all culminating in this attempt to help those who will listen to me without prejudice. i do not think i know all that is to be known, but i believe i do know how to form and preserve the voice according to physiological principles; i at least ask the reader to give my teachings and recommendations a fair trial. he shall have reasons for what is presented and recommended to him. once more let it be said that i do not deny that good practical results may follow teaching that is not put before the pupil as physiology; but what is claimed for physiological teaching is that-- . it is more rational. the student sees that things must be thus and so, and not otherwise. . faults can be the better recognized and explained. . the student can the more surely guide his own development, and meet the stress and storm that sooner or later come to every professional voice-user. . injured voices can be the more effectively restored. . the physical welfare of the student is advanced--a matter which i find is often neglected by teachers of music, though more so in the case of instrumental than vocal teachers. . the student can much more effectively learn from the performances of others, because he sees that singing and speaking are physical processes leading to artistic ends. this is perhaps one of the most valuable results, and i can testify to the greater readiness with which analysis of a performance can be made after even moderate advancement. the teacher who is wise will encourage the student to hear those who excel, and to analyze the methods which successful artists employ. the student can much more readily accomplish this than detect the mental movements of the artist, though the two really go hand in hand to a large extent. the above are some of the advantages, but by no means all, of a method of study of voice-production which i must claim is the only rational one--certainly, the only one that rests on a scientific foundation. it does not follow that such study, to be scientific, shall be made repellent by the use of technical terms the significance of which the reader is left to guess at, but finds unexplained. i fear such treatment of vocal physiology has brought it into disrepute. the aim of the writer will be to give a clear scientific treatment of the subject, which shall not be obscured by unexplained technical terms, and which shall be _practical_--capable of immediate use by student and teacher. if he did not believe the latter possible he would not think it worth while to attempt the former, especially as this has often been done before, he regrets to say, badly enough. although the author has not now the tune to give regular lessons in voice-production, he is frequently consulted, especially when abroad, during his vacations, by speakers and especially singers who are anxious to learn how they may increase their efficiency in the profession by which they earn their livelihood and make their reputation; and the reader may be gratified to learn how, in such cases, the writer applies the principles he so strongly recommends to others. let two or three illustrations suffice: . a tenor of world renown consulted him in regard to the position of the larynx in singing, as he had a suspicion that his practice was not correct, inasmuch as his voice seemed to be deteriorating to some extent. the answer to his question need not be given here, as this subject is discussed adequately in a later chapter. . the second was the case of a young lady, an amateur singer, who was anxious to know why she failed to get satisfactory results. the author heard her in a large room, without any accompaniment (to cover up defects, etc.), and standing at first at some distance from her, then nearer. her tones were delightfully pure and beautiful, but her performance suggested rather the sound of some instrument than singing in the proper sense. it was impossible to learn the ideas to be imparted, as the words could not be distinctly made out; there was a monotony in the whole performance, though, it must be confessed, a beautiful monotony, and there was a total lack of that vigor and sureness that both educated and uneducated listeners must be made to feel, or there results a sense of dissatisfaction, if not even irritation. the beauty of tone was owing to a production that was to a certain extent sound, and this explained why the voice carried well in spite of its being small. this young lady was well educated, had heard much good music, possessed a sensitive ear and a fine æsthetic taste, and, perhaps most important of all, in this case at least, was able to think for herself. she was very slight of body, with an ill-developed chest, and, from her appearance, could not have enjoyed robust health. it was at once evident that this was an admirable case by which to test the views advocated. accordingly, the author addressed the young lady as follows: "your voice is beautiful in quality, and carries well; you observe the registers properly; but your vocalization is feeble, and your singing is ineffective. this is due largely to the lack of robustness in your voice, but not wholly. you do not tell your story in song so that the listener may know what you have to say to him. the imperfections in your method of speaking, so common in america--an imperfect articulation and a limp texture of voice--are evident in your singing; you do not phrase well, and you paint all in one color. this is due chiefly to your breathing and your attacks. one may observe that at no time do you fill your chest completely. you use the lower chest and the diaphragm correctly, but you rob yourself of one half of your breathing power, and your chest is not at all well developed. you do not use the parts above your voice-box with vigor and efficiency, and you direct so much attention to the quality of the tone that you neglect its quantity and the ideas to be expressed. you have been correctly but inadequately instructed. your teachers have evidently understood registers practically, as few do, but they have only half taught you breathing and attack. their fidelity to that high ideal of quality of tone as the final consideration wins my respect." the writer thought, but did not say, that they must have understood little of vocal physiology, or they would not have left this young lady so ill-developed physically, at least so far as the chest is concerned. i then asked this earnest and intelligent student, as she proved to be, to take a full breath. she did not understand this, and was absolutely incapable of doing it. she had been taught to begin breathing below, to expand from the lower chest upward, and, as a natural result, she never filled the upper chest. she was at once shown how it was done, when she seemed greatly surprised, and said: "i never have done that in my whole life." "did you not run and shout as a child?" "no, i never did run enough or shout enough to fill up my chest." the latter was small, and flat. the method of attack was next explained and illustrated, first without reference to words, and then to show its importance in conveying ideas, and the causes of the defects in speaking were indicated, and the corrections named and illustrated. the lady was then asked to sing again, making the improvements suggested, with the result that it was clear that every principle set forth had been clearly apprehended, though of course as yet only imperfectly carried out. the student was recommended to take walking exercise, and to practice filling the chest in the manner to be explained later. after six weeks she again asked to be heard. the change effected was wonderful; she was another type of vocalist now. without any loss in quality her voice had a volume and intensity that made it adequate for singing in at least a small hall; her attacks were good, though not perfect; and at the end of a very large room it could easily be seen that her chest was, when necessary, filled full, so that she was able to produce a large and prolonged tone. but, best of all, her health had greatly improved, and she had gained in size and weight. it is but fair to point out that, in the present case, the student was an unusually intelligent and thoughtful person. had it been otherwise, more consultations would have been necessary, with probably many detailed instructions and much practice before the teacher. but the case sufficed to convince me afresh that only physiological teaching meets the needs of pupil and teacher. i do not claim, of course, that it is a panacea. it will not supply the lack of a musical ear or an artistic temperament. vocalization does not make an artist, but there can be no artist without sound vocalization. all the author's experience as a laryngologist tended to convince him that most of those evils from which speakers and singers suffer, whatever the part of the vocal mechanism affected, arise from faulty methods of voice-production, or excess in the use of methods in themselves correct. a showman may have a correct method of voice-production--indeed, the writer has often studied the showman with admiration--but if he speak for hours in the open air in all sorts of weather, a disordered throat is but the natural consequence; and the wagnerian singer who will shout instead of sing must not expect to retain a voice of musical quality, if, indeed, he retain one at all. throughout this work it will be assumed that the speaker and the singer should employ essentially the same vocal methods. the singer should be a good speaker, even a good elocutionist, and the speaker should be able to produce tones equal in beauty, power, and expressiveness to those of the singer, but, of course, within a more limited range, and less prolonged, as a rule. to each alike is voice-training essential, if artistic results are to follow; neither rhetorical training on the one hand nor musical training on the other will alone suffice. so that it may be clear that the same physiological principles apply to the vocal mechanism as to all others in the body, a short chapter dealing with this subject is introduced, before taking up the structure and functions of any part of that apparatus by which the speaker or singer produces his results as a specialist. the laws of health known as hygiene follow so naturally on those of physiology that brief references to this subject, from time to time, with a chapter at the end of the work bearing specially on the life of the voice-user, will probably suffice. chapter ii. general and physiological considerations. the principle that knowledge consists in a perception of relations will now be applied to the structure and functions or uses of the different parts of the body. the demonstration that all animals, even all living things, have certain properties or functions in common is one of the great results of modern science. man no longer can be rightly viewed apart from other animals. in many respects he is in no wise superior to them. the most desirable course to pursue is to learn wherein animals resemble and wherein they differ, without dwelling at great length on the question of relative superiority or inferiority. it may be unhesitatingly asserted that all animals live, move, and have their being, in every essential respect, in the same way. whether one considers those creatures of microscopic size living in stagnant ponds, or man himself, it is found that certain qualities characterize them all. that minute mass of jelly-like substance known as protoplasm, constituting the one-celled animal amoeba, may be described as _ingestive_, _digestive_, _secretory_, _excretory_, _assimilative_, _respiratory_, _irritable_, _contractile_, and _reproductive_: that is to say, the amoeba must take in food; must digest it, or change its form; must produce some fluid within itself which acts on food; must cast out from itself what is no longer of any use; must convert the digested material into its own substance--perhaps the most wonderful property of living things; must take up into its own substance oxygen, and expel carbonic acid gas (carbon dioxide); and possess the power to respond to a stimulus, or cause of change, the property of changing form, and, finally, the ability to bring into being others like itself. [illustration: fig. . muscle-fibres from the heart, much magnified, showing cross-stripings, nuclei, or the darkly stained central bodies very important to the life of the cell, also the divisions and points of union. (schäfer's _histology_.)] [illustration: fig. . appearance of a small portion of muscle under a moderate magnification. between the muscle-cells proper a form of binding tissue may be seen.] [illustration: fig. . muscle-cells isolated from the muscular coats of the intestine. similar cells are found in some part of most of the internal organs, including the bronchial tubes. these cells are less ready in responding to a stimulus, contract more slowly, and tend to remain longer contracted when they pass into this condition than striped muscle cells. (schäfer.)] before justifying these statements in detail it will be desirable to say something of the anatomy or structure of a mammal, and we may select man himself, though it is to be remembered that one might apply exactly the same treatment to a dog, pig, mouse, or any other member of this group of animals. the amoeba and creatures like it live immersed in water; man, at the bottom of an ocean of air. both move in their own medium, the amoeba creeping with extreme slowness, man moving with a speed incalculably greater. in each case the movements are determined by some cause from without which is termed by physiologists a _stimulus_. the slightest movement of the thin cover-glass placed over the drop of water in which an amoeba is immersed, on a microscopic slide, suffices to act as a stimulus, and serves much the same purpose as an electric shock to the muscles of a man. in man an elaborate apparatus exists for the process known as respiration, but in this and in all other cases the mechanism is composed of what is known technically as _cells_, the latter being the units of structure, the individual bricks of the building, so to speak; and just as any edifice is made up of individual pieces some of which differ from one another while others do not to any appreciable extent, so is it with the body. the individual cells of a muscle are alike in structure and function, but they differ widely from those of a gland or secreting organ, as the liver. but it is to be ever remembered that the statements with which we set out hold: that is, that however cells may differ, they have in all animals certain properties in common. of the muscle-cell, the liver-cell, and the one-celled animal we may affirm the same properties, but the difference is that while all are secretory the liver-cell is eminently so, and produces bile, which other cells do not; that while it is but feebly contractile, or susceptible of change of form, the muscle-cell is characterized by this property above all others. the lower we descend in the animal scale the more simple are the mechanisms by which results are attained. the one-celled animal may be said to breathe with its whole body, while the man employs a large number of muscles, not to speak, at present, of other arrangements. but when a muscle is examined under the microscope, it is found to consist of cells, each one of which is physiologically in all essentials like an amoeba, so that we may say that a muscle or other tissue or organ is really a sort of colony of cells of similar structure and function, all working in harmony like a happy family. we actually do find colonies of unicellular animals much like amoeba, so that the muscle-cells and all other cells of the body may be compared to amoeba and other one-celled animals. but while in such unicellular creatures all functions are properties of the individual cell, among higher forms _systems_ take the place of the protoplasm of the single cell. there is a circulatory system, a respiratory system, etc.; but we must once more point out that such systems are made up of cells, so that every function of the highest animal may be finally reduced to what takes place in the unicellular animal. a circulatory system consists of a heart and blood-vessels, all filled with blood, which latter is "the life," as was known from the earliest times; yet this same blood is of no more use for the nourishment of the body while it is contained in those tubes which constitute the blood-vessels than is bread locked up in a pantry to a hungry boy. that which really provides the nutriment for the body is a fluid derived from the blood, a something like the liquid part of blood and known as _lymph_. this latter is to the cells of any tissue, as a muscle, as is the water filled with the food on which an amoeba lives. in like manner, in spite of the complicated apparatus which supplies oxygen and removes carbon dioxide, the respiratory system, respiration is finally the work of the cell, as in amoeba; a muscle-cell respires exactly as does the one-celled animal. when we consider the marvellous complexity of structure of one of the higher animals, and the amazing variety of its functions, the question naturally arises as to how all this is brought about without any sort of clashing of the interests of one part with those of another. why is it that the stomach has enough and not too much blood? by what means has nature solved the problem of supplying more oxygen to parts in action than to those at rest? how is it that one set of muscles acts with instead of antagonizing another set, as in any complicated series of movements, such as walking? to bring about this harmonization, or _co-ordination_, the nervous system has been provided. as the nervous and muscular systems are of preëminent importance in voice-production, they will now be considered with more detail than it is necessary to give to other systems. complicated as is the nervous system, modern advances in the sciences of anatomy and physiology have made the comprehension of the subject easier. it is now known that the nervous system, in spite of its wide ramifications, is also made up of cells which are structurally and functionally related to each other, and make connection with every part of the whole community, the body. a nerve-cell, or _neurone_, may be very complicated in its structure because of its many branches or extensions from the main body of the cell. [illustration: fig. . body of a nerve-cell of the spinal cord, specially stained so as to show the minute structure. (schäfer's _histology_.)] [illustration: fig. . a large nerve-cell from the spinal cord of the ox, magnified diameters. (schäfer.)] [illustration: fig. . a cell of another form, from the superficial or outer part of the greater brain (cortex cerebri). the great amount of branching is suggestive of the power to receive and to transmit nervous influences (impulses) from various other cells; in other words, complexity of structure suggests a corresponding complexity of function.] [illustration: fig. . representation of the manner in which a nerve is seen to terminate in a muscle, such ending being one form of "nerve-ending" termed a "muscle plate." it tends to emphasize the close relationship existing between muscle and nerve, and to justify the expression "neuro-muscular mechanism," the nervous system being as important for movements as the muscles. (schäfer's _histology_.)] [illustration: fig. . three muscle-fibres lying beside each other, with the small blood-vessels (capillaries) around and between them. such are the appearances presented under the microscope by skeletal or striped muscles such as those of the larynx. (schäfer.)] it may be said, in general terms, that the nervous _centres_, the brain and the spinal cord, which are parts of one anatomical whole, are characterized by the presence of the cell-bodies as well as their extensions, while nerves consist only of the extensions or arms of the cell-bodies. the nerve-cell whose body is in the top of the brain may have an extension or arm which may reach practically to the end of the spinal cord, and there make communication with another cell whose arm, in turn, may reach as far as the toe. such nerve arms or extensions constitute the _nerve-fibres_, and bundles of these _nerves_, or _nerve-trunks_. usually nerve-fibres make connection with the cells of an organ by a special modification of structure known as a _nerve-ending_. a nervous message or influence (_nerve-impulse_) may pass either to the centre--_i.e._, toward a cell-body--or from it; in other words, a nervous impulse may originate in the centre or in some organ more or less distant from it; a nervous impulse may be _central_ or _peripheral_. nearly all central impulses, we now know, arise because of the peripheral ones. one may illustrate this important relation by a telegraph system. the message a railroad operator sends out--_e.g._, that which determines whether a train is to be held at a certain station or sent on--might depend wholly on information received from another office. the extra flow of blood to the stomach when food enters it is owing to such a relation of things. the food acts as a stimulus to the ends of the nerve-fibres, and, in consequence, there is an ingoing (_afferent_) message or impulse, and, by reason of this, an outgoing (_efferent_) one to the muscle-cells of the small blood-vessels, owing to which they contract less strongly and the calibre of these vessels is increased; hence more blood reaches the smallest vessels of all (_capillaries_.) such a physiological relation of things is termed _reflex action_. for such reflex action there are required structurally at least two neurones or nerve-cells, and functionally a stimulus of a certain strength and quality. of course, if more blood passes to the stomach there must be less somewhere else, as the total volume of the blood is limited. the value of the knowledge of such a fact is obvious. it must be unwise to exercise vigorously immediately after meals, for this determines blood to the muscles which would serve a better purpose in the digestive organs. for a like reason the singer who would do his best before the public will refrain from taking a large meal before appearing. as this subject of reflex action is of the highest importance, the reader is advised to make himself thoroughly familiar with the principles involved before perusing the future chapters of this work. fig. shows the structural relations for reflex action. it also indicates how such nervous relations may be complicated by other connections of the nerve-cells involved in the reflex action. it will be seen that they make many upward connections with the brain, in consequence of which consciousness may be involved. ordinarily one is more or less conscious of reflex action, though the will is not involved; in fact, a willed or voluntary action is usually considered the reverse of a reflex or involuntary action. but for a reflex action the brain is not essential. as is well known, a snake's hinder part will move in response to a touch when completely severed from the head end; and movements of considerable complexity can be evoked in a headless frog. herein, then, lies the solution of the problem. this is nature's way of bringing one part into harmonious relations with another. as by a telegraphic system the most distant parts of a vast railway system may be brought into harmonious working, so is it with the body by means of the nervous system. the nerve-centres correspond to the heads of the railway system, or, perhaps more correctly, to the various officials resident in some large city who from this centre regulate the affairs of the whole line. the muscular system is made up of cells of two kinds, those characteristic of the muscles used in ordinary movements, and those employed for the movements of the internal organs. the muscles of the limbs are made up of striped muscle-cells; those of the stomach, etc., of unstriped cells. these latter are slower to act when stimulated, contract more slowly, and cease to function more tardily when the stimulus is withdrawn. the muscular mechanisms used by the singer and speaker are of the skeletal variety. if it be true that the welfare of one part of the body is bound up with that of every other, as are the interests of one member of a firm with those of another, in a great business, it will at once appear that the most perfect results can follow for the voice-user only under certain conditions. however perfect by nature the vocal mechanism, the result in any case must be largely determined by the character of the body as a whole. the man of fine physique generally has naturally more to hope for than one with an ill-developed body. in the natural working of the body the stimulus to a muscle is nervous; hence we may appropriately, and often to advantage, speak of _neuro-muscular_ mechanism, the nervous element being as important as the muscular. in a later chapter it will be shown that the work of the singer and speaker when most successfully carried out must be largely reflex in nature--a fact on which hang weighty considerations with regard to many questions, among them methods of practice, the influence of example, etc.--be he ever so much the natural artist. it will be the writer's aim, however, to give such warnings and advice as may assist each reader in his own best development. many who began with a comparatively poor physical stock in trade have surpassed the self-satisfied ones who trusted too much to what nature gave them. singers as well as others would do well to believe that _labor omnia vincit_. summary. the same fundamental physiological principles apply to the lowest and to the highest animals. to all belong certain properties or qualities. as structure is differentiated, or as one animal differs from another owing to greater or less complexity of form, there is a corresponding differentiation of function, none, however, ever losing the fundamental properties of protoplasm. each organ comes to perform some one function better than all others. this is specialization, and implies advance among animals as it does in civilization. the neuro-muscular system is of great moment to the voice-user. he is a specialist as regards the neuro-muscular systems of the vocal mechanism. but the same laws apply to it as to other neuro-muscular mechanisms. it is of great theoretical and practical importance to recognize this, and that one part of the body is related to every other, which relationship is maintained chiefly by the nervous system, and largely through reflex action. chapter iii. breathing considered theoretically and practically. if the old orator was right in considering _delivery_ as the essence of public speaking as an art, it may with equal truth be said of singing, the term being always so extended in signification as to imply what rossini named as the essential for the singer--_voice_. looking at it from the physiological point of view, we may say that the one absolutely essential thing for singers and speakers is breathing. without methods of breathing that are correct and adequate there may be a perfect larynx and admirably formed resonance-chambers above the vocal bands, with very unsatisfactory results. the more the writer knows of singers and speakers, the more deeply does he become convinced that singing and speaking may be resolved into the correct use of the breathing apparatus, above all else. not that this alone will suffice, but it is the most important, and determines more than any other factor the question of success or failure. breathing is the key-note with which we must begin, and to which we must return again and again. the extent to which this subject has been misunderstood, misrepresented, and obscured in works on the voice, and its neglect by so large a number of those who profess to understand how to teach singing and public speaking, are truly amazing. that many should fail to fully appreciate its importance in attaining artistic results is not so surprising as that the process itself should have been so ill understood, especially as it is open to any one to observe in himself, or in our domestic animals, nature's method of getting air into and out of the body. [illustration: fig. . a front view of parts of the respiratory apparatus. (halliburton's physiology.)] [illustration: fig. . a back view of the parts represented in fig. . (halliburton's physiology.)] [transcriber's note: numbered thus in original.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). a view of the lower part of the trachea, dividing into the main bronchial tubes, which again branch into a tree-like form. the air-cells are built up around the terminations of the finest bronchial tubes, of which they are a sort of membranous extension.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). shows well the relations of heart, lungs, and diaphragm. the lungs have been drawn back, otherwise the heart would be covered almost wholly by them. it will be noted that the heart-covering is attached to the diaphragm. the fact that the stomach and other important organs of the abdomen lie immediately beneath the diaphragm is a significant one for the voice-user. manifestly, a full stomach and free, vigorous breathing are incompatible.] this misapprehension is in all probability to be traced to the dependence of the student and teacher on tradition rather than observation--on authority rather than rational judgment. if a great teacher or singer makes any announcement whatever in regard to the technique of his art, it is natural that it should be considered with attention, but it may prove a great misfortune for the individual to accept it without thoughtful consideration. the author will illustrate, from time to time, the truth of the above. in this and all other chapters of this work the student, by which term i mean every one who is seriously interested in the use of the voice, is recommended to give attention, before reading on any subject, to the illustrations employed, perusing very carefully the explanatory remarks beneath them. the author considers the summaries at the conclusion of the chapters of much importance. they not only furnish exact and condensed statements of the main facts and principles involved, but afford the reader a test of the extent to which the foregoing chapter has been comprehended. as the author has a horror of what is termed "cramming," he expresses the hope that no student will use these synopses, which have been prepared with much care, for so great a misuse of the mind as cramming implies. breathing is essential for life. the oxygen of the air is, of all food-stuffs, the most important. without it a mammal will perish in less than three minutes; hence there is no need of the body so urgent as that of oxygen. it is also of great moment that the waste--the carbon dioxide, or carbonic acid gas--should be got rid of rapidly; nevertheless, it is not this gas which kills when the air-passages are closed, though it is highly deleterious. the body is a sort of furnace in which combustions are continually going on, and oxygen is as essential for these as for the burning of a candle, and the products are in each case the same. whether the voice-user respires, like others, to maintain the functions of the body, or whether he employs the breathing apparatus to produce sound, it is to be borne in mind that he uses the same physical mechanisms, so that the way is at once clear to consider the anatomy and physiology of the breathing organs. it has been already pointed out that respiration is in all animals, in the end, the same process. the one-celled animal and the muscle-cell respire in the same way, and with the same results--oxidation, combustion, and resulting waste products. in the animal of complicated structure special mechanisms are necessary that the essential oxygen be brought to the blood and the useless carbon dioxide removed. the respiratory organs or tract include the mouth, nose, larynx, trachea, bronchial tubes, and the lung-tissue proper or the air-cells. the mouth, nose, and larynx, in so far as they are of special importance in voice-production, will be considered later. the air enters the trachea, or windpipe, through a relatively narrow slit in the larynx, or voice-box, known as the _glottis_, or _chink of the glottis_, which is wider when air is being taken in (_inspiration_) than when it is being expelled (_expiration_). life depends on this chink being kept open. the windpipe is composed of a series of cartilaginous or gristly rings connected together by softer tissues. these rings are not entire, but are completed behind by soft tissues including muscle. it follows that this tube is pliable and extensible--a very important provision, especially when large movements of the neck are made, during vigorous exercise, and also in singing and speaking. the bronchial tubes are the tree-like branches of the trachea, and extend to the air-cells themselves, which may be considered as built up around them in some such fashion as a toy balloon on its wooden stem, but with many infoldings, etc. (fig. ). the air-cells are composed of a membrane which may be compared to the walls of the balloon, but we are of course dealing with living tissue supplied by countless blood-vessels of the most minute calibre, in which the blood is brought very near to the air which passes over them. throughout, the respiratory tract is lined with mucous membrane. mucous membranes are so named because they secrete mucus, the fluid which moistens the nose, mouth, and all parts of the respiratory tract. when one suffers from a cold the mucous membrane, in the early stages, may become dry from failure of this natural secretion; hence sneezing, coughing, etc., as the air then acts as an irritant. at no time do we breathe pure oxygen, but "air"--_i.e._, a mixture of parts of the former with parts of an inert gas, nitrogen; and there is always in the air more oxygen than the blood actually takes from it in the air-cells. the intaking of air is termed by physiologists _inspiration_, and its expulsion _expiration_, the whole process being _respiration_. expiration takes a very little longer than inspiration, and the rapidity of respiration depends on the needs of the body. the more active the exercise, the more rapidly vital processes go on, the more ventilation of the tissues is required and the more is actually effected. when one is at rest breathing takes place at the rate of from to inspirations and expirations in the minute; but of all the processes of the body none is more variable than respiration, and of necessity, for every modification of action, every movement, implies a demand for an increased quantity of oxygen. it is not surprising, therefore, that the very exercise of singing tends in itself to put one out of breath. [illustration: fig. . in the above, the shaded outlines indicate the shape of the bony cage of the chest during inspiration, and the lighter ones the same during expiration. the alterations in the position of the ribs and in the diameters of the chest, giving rise to its greater capacity during inspiration, are evident.] [illustration: fig. . this figure is intended to indicate, in a purely diagrammatic way, by dotted lines, the position of the diaphragm ( ) when inspiration is moderate, and ( ) when very deep. the unbroken curved line above the dotted ones indicates the position of the diaphragm (only approximately, of course) after expiration.] attention will now be directed to some facts that it is of the utmost importance to clearly understand, if one is to know how to breathe and the reasons for the method employed. the lungs are contained in a cavity the walls of which are made up of a domed muscular (and tendinous) structure below, and elsewhere of bony and cartilaginous tissues filled in with soft structures, chiefly muscles. this cage is lined within by a smooth membrane which is kept constantly moist by its own secretion. the lungs are covered by a similar membrane, both of these fitting closely like the hand to a glove, so that there are two smooth membranes in opposition. it cannot be too well remembered that these two, the inner surface of the chest walls and the outer surface of the lungs, are in the closest contact. this is so whatever the changes that take place in the size and shape of the chest. the lungs are concave below, and so fit accurately to the fleshy partition between the chest and the abdomen which constitutes the lower boundary of the chest, if we may use the term "chest" somewhat loosely. above, suiting the shape of the chest, the lungs are somewhat conical. the pressure of the air tends of itself to expand the lungs, which are highly elastic, even when one does not breathe at all. but if more air is to enter there must be additional space provided; hence greater expansion of the lungs can only follow an enlargement of the chest cavity in one or in all directions. these are spoken of as _diameters_. it follows that it is possible to conceive of the chest being enlarged in three, and only three, directions; so that it may be increased in size in its vertical, its transverse, and its antero-posterior diameter, or diameter from before backwards. this expansion, as in the case of all other movements, can be effected only by muscles, or, to speak more accurately, by neuro-muscular mechanisms. exactly what muscles are employed may be learned from the accompanying illustrations and by observation. while it is highly important to know in a general way which muscles are chiefly concerned, or, rather, where they are situated, it cannot be deemed essential for every reader to learn their names, attachments, etc., down to the minutest details, as in the case of a student of anatomy proper. the author does, however, deem it of the highest importance that the student should learn by actual observation on his own person that his chest does expand in each of the three directions indicated above. it is not necessary to dissect to observe muscles; in fact, they can be seen in action only on the living subject. all who would really understand breathing should study the chest when divested of all clothing and before a sufficiently large mirror. he may then observe the following during a fairly deep inspiration: . the chest is enlarged as a whole. . the abdominal walls move outward. . the ribs pass from a more oblique to a less oblique position, and may become almost horizontal; their upper edges are also turned out slightly, though this is not so easy to observe. . again, in the case of a very deep and sudden inspiration, the abdomen and the lower ribs also are drawn inward. the changes above referred to are brought about in this way: . the total enlargement is due to the action of many muscles which function in harmony with each other. . the chief changes are brought about by those muscles attached between the ribs (_intercostales_); but these act more efficiently owing to the coöperation of other muscles which steady the ribs and chest generally, such as those attached to the shoulder-bones and the upper ribs; indeed, the most powerful inspiration possible can only be effected when most of the other muscles of the body are brought into action. one may observe that even the arms and legs are called into requisition when a tenor sings his highest tone as forcibly as possible, though this is often overdone in a way to be condemned. art should not be reduced to a gymnastic feat. the most important muscle of inspiration is the _diaphragm_, or midriff, because it produces a greater change in the size of the chest than any other single muscle. some animals can get the oxygen they require to maintain life by the action of this large muscle alone, when all other respiratory muscles are paralyzed. as it is so important, and above all to the voice-user, it merits special consideration. in studying the action of a muscle it is necessary to note its _points of attachment_ to harder structures, either bone or cartilage. nearly always one such point is more fixed than the other, and from this the muscle pulls when it contracts. the diaphragm is peculiar in that it is somewhat circular in shape and is more or less tendinous or sinew-like in the middle. being attached to the spinal column behind and to the lower six or seven ribs, when the muscle contracts it becomes less domed in shape--less convex upward--and of course descends to a variable degree depending on the extent of the muscular contraction. as to whether the ribs, and with them the abdominal muscles, are drawn in or the reverse, is determined wholly by the degree of force with which the contraction takes place and the extent to which it is resisted. throughout the body muscles are arranged in sets which may either coöperate with or antagonize each other, as required. the forcible bending of one's arm by another person may be resisted by one through the use of certain muscles. in this the action of the muscles which bend the arm is imitated by the agent seeking to perform this movement for us. the muscles acting in opposition to certain others are said to be their _antagonists_. were the diaphragm to contract moderately the ribs would be but little drawn in, even if no muscles acted as antagonists. but, as a matter of fact, this domed muscle descends at the same time as the ribs ascend, because of the action of the muscles attached to them. the diaphragm being concave below toward the abdomen, the contents of this cavity fit closely to its under surface. there are found the liver, stomach, intestines, etc.--a part of great practical importance, as will be shown presently. naturally, in breathing, the organs of the abdomen, especially those above, are pressed down somewhat with the descent of the diaphragm in inspiration, and, in turn, push out the abdominal walls. if, however, the midriff contract so powerfully that the lower ribs are drawn inward, the abdominal walls follow them. although the actual extent of the descent of the diaphragm is small in itself, since the total surface is large it effects a very considerable enlargement of the chest in the vertical diameter. the capacity of the lungs for air is a very variable quantity: . the quantity of air taken in with a single inspiration in quiet breathing (_tidal air_) is about - cubic inches. . the quantity taken in with the deepest possible inspiration (_complemental air_) is about cubic inches. . the quantity that may be expelled by the most forcible expiration (_supplemental air_) is about cubic inches. . the quantity that can under no circumstances be expelled (_residual air_) is about cubic inches. . the quantity that can be expelled after the most forcible inspiration--_i.e._, the amount of air that can be moved--indicates the _vital capacity_. this varies very much with the individual, and depends not a little on the elasticity of the chest walls, and so diminishes with age. it follows that youth is the best period for the development of the chest, and the time to learn that special breath-control so essential to good singing and speaking. when the ribs have been raised by inspiration and the abdominal organs pressed down by the diaphragm, the chest, on the cessation of the act, tends to resume its former shape, owing to elastic recoil quite apart from all muscular action; in other words, inspiration is active, expiration largely passive. with the voice-user, especially the singer, expiration becomes the more important, and the more difficult to control, as will be shown later. it must now be apparent that such use of the voice as is necessitated by speaking for the public, or by singing, still more, perhaps, must tend to the general welfare of the body--_i.e._, the hygiene of respiration is evident from the physiology. actual experience proves this to be the case. the author has known the greatest improvement in health and vigor follow on the judicious use of the voice, owing largely to a more active respiration. it also follows, however, that exhaustion may result from the excessive use of the respiratory muscles, as with any others, even when the method of chest-expansion is quite correct. before condemning any vocal method one does well to inquire in regard to the extent to which it has been employed, as well as the circumstances of the voice-user. a poor clergyman worried with the fear of being supplanted by another man, or a singer unable to secure employment, possibly from lack of means to advertise himself, is not likely to grow fat under any method of vocal exercise, be it ever so physiological; while the prima donna who has chanced to please the popular taste and become a favorite may "wax fat and kick." [illustration: figs. , a and b, are to be compared: that on the left shows the position of the diaphragm, abdominal walls, etc., during expiration; the one on the right, during inspiration. the relative quantities of air in the chest in each case are approximately indicated by the shaded areas.] chapter iv. breathing further considered theoretically and practically. when one takes into account the large number of muscles employed in respiration, and remembers that these muscles must act in perfect harmony with each other if the great end is to be attained, he naturally inquires how this complex series of muscular contractions has been brought into concerted action so as to result in that physiological unity known as breathing. it is impossible to conceive of such results being effected except through the influence of the nervous system, which acts as a sort of regulator throughout the whole economy. all the parts of the respiratory tract are supplied with nerves, which are of both kinds--those which carry nervous impulses or messages from and those which convey them to the nervous centres concerned; in other words, to and from the bodies of the nerve-cells whose extensions are termed nerves. these centres are the central offices where the information is received and from which orders are issued, so to speak. the chief respiratory centre--_the_ centre--is situated in that portion of the brain just above the spinal cord, in its continuation, in fact, and is known as the _medulla oblongata_, or _bulb_. but while this is the head centre, at which the ingoing (_afferent_) impulses are received and from which the outgoing (_efferent_) ones proceed, it makes use of many other collections of nerve-cells, or subordinate centres--_e.g._, those whose nerve-extensions or nerve-fibres proceed from the spinal cord to the muscles of respiration. [illustration: fig. . the purpose of this diagram is to indicate the relation between ingoing (afferent) and outgoing (efferent) nervous influences (impulses)--in other words, to illustrate _reflex action_. the paths of the ingoing impulses are indicated by black lines, and those of the outgoing ones by red lines, the point of termination being shown by an arrow-tip. the result of an ingoing message may be either favorable or unfavorable. the nervous impulse that reaches the brain through the eye may be either exhilarating or depressing. the experienced singer is usually stimulated by the sight of an audience, while the beginner may be rendered nervous, and this may express itself in many and widely distant parts of the body. an unfavorable message may reach the diaphragm or intercostal muscles, and render breathing shallow, irregular, or, in the worst cases, almost gasping. the heart or stomach, even the muscles of the larynx, the limbs, etc., may be affected, and trembling be the result. on the other hand, the laryngeal and other muscles may be toned up, and the voice rendered better than usual, as a result of applause--_i.e._, by nervous impulses through the ear--or, again, by the sight of a friend. even a very tight glove or a pinching shoe may suffice to hamper the action of the muscles required for singing or speaking. all this is a result of reflex action--_i.e._, outgoing messages set up by ingoing ones--the "centre" being either the brain or the spinal cord. from all this it is evident that the singer or speaker must guard against everything unfavorable, to an extent that an ordinary person need not. the stomach, as the diagram is also meant to show, may express itself on the brain, and give rise, as in fact it often does, owing to indiscretion in eating, to unpleasant outward effects on the muscles required in singing or speaking. of course, no attempt has been made in the above figure to express anatomical forms and relations exactly.] when all the ingoing impulses from the lungs, etc., are cut off, if respiration does not actually cease, it is carried out in a way so ineffective that life cannot be long sustained. it follows that as the muscular contractions necessary for the chest and other respiratory movements are dependent on the impulses passing in from the lungs, etc., breathing belongs to the class of movements known as reflex--chiefly so, at all events. it will thus be seen that respiration is a sort of self-regulative process, the movements being in proportion to the needs of the body. the greater the need for oxygen, the more are the nerve-terminals in the lungs and the centre itself stimulated, with, as a result, corresponding outgoing impulses to muscles. as the respiratory centre is readily reached by impulses from every part of the body, like one who keeps open house, there are many different sorts of visitors, not all desirable. if, for example, a drop of a fluid that produces no special effect when on the tongue gets into the larynx, trachea, or lungs, the most violent coughing follows. this is one illustration of the _protective_ character of many reflexes. this violent action of the respiratory apparatus is not in itself a desirable thing, because it disturbs if it does not exhaust, but it is preferable to the inflammation that might result if the fluid, a bread-crumb, etc., were to pass into the lungs. in like manner, the deep breath and the "oh!" that follow a fear-inspiring sight, a very loud noise, or a severe pinch of the skin, are examples of reflex action. they are quite independent of the will, though in some cases they may be prevented by it. this reflex nature of breathing throws much light on many matters of great interest to the speaker and singer, some of which, as the formation of good habits of breathing, will be considered later. unfortunately for the nervous débutant, his breathing is anything but what he could wish it. the pale face and almost gasping respiration, in the worst cases, are not unknown to the experienced observer. in such cases the preventive (_inhibitory_) influence of certain ingoing impulses is but too obvious. such undesirable messages may pass in through the eyes when the young singer looks out on the throng that may either approve or condemn; or they may originate within, and pass from the higher part of the brain to the lower breathing centre. the beginner may have high ideals of art, and fear that they will be but ill realized in his performance. his ideals in this instance do not help but hinder, for they interfere with the regular action of the breathing centre. a few deep breaths after the platform has been reached greatly help under such circumstances. it is also wise for the singer to avoid those songs that begin softly and require long breaths and very evenly sustained tones. it is much better to begin with a selection that brings the breathing organs into fairly active exercise at once. one feeble, hesitating, or otherwise ineffective tone is in itself a stimulus of the wrong kind, sending in unfavorable messages which are only too apt to reach the breathing and other centres concerned in voice-production; but of this subject of nervousness again. it is important to realize that sounds, whether musical or the reverse, are produced by the outgoing stream of breath, by an expiratory effort. breath is taken in by the voice-producer in order to be converted into that expiratory force which, playing on the vocal bands, causes them to vibrate or pass into the rapid movements which give rise to similar movements of the air in the cavities above the larynx, the resonance-chambers, and on which the final result as regards sound is dependent. important as is inspiration to the speaker and singer, expiration is much more so. many persons fill the lungs well, but do not understand how to husband their resources, and so waste breath instead of converting every particle into sound, so to speak. after the larynx has been studied the importance of the expiratory blast will be better understood. for the voice-user, it cannot be too soon realized that _all breath that does not become sound is wasted_, or, to express the same truth otherwise, the sole purpose of breathing is to cause effective vibrations of the vocal bands. in these two words, _effective vibrations_, lies the whole secret of voice production, the whole purpose of training, the key to the highest technical results, the cause of success or failure for those who speak or sing. before the larynx, the apparatus that produces sound-vibrations, can be effectively employed, the source of power, the bellows, must be developed. to some nature has been generous--they have large chests; to others she has given a smaller wind-chest, but has perhaps compensated by providing an especially fine voice-box. happy are they who have both, and thrice happy those who have all three requirements: a fine chest, a well-constructed larynx, and beautifully formed resonance-chambers. if with all these there are the musical ear and the artistic temperament, we have the singer who is born great. these are the very few. to most it must be--if greatness at all--greatness thrust upon them, greatness the result of long and patient effort to attain perfect development. indeed, even those with the most complete natural outfit can only reach the highest results of which they are capable by long and patient application. those who do not believe in attainment only through labor would do well to abandon an art career, as there is already a great deal too much poor speaking and bad singing. chapter v. breathing with special regard to practical considerations. the first great requisite for a voice-user is a well-developed chest; the next, complete control of it, or, to put it otherwise, the art of breathing, as briefly explained above. the chest may be large enough, yet not be, in the physiological sense, developed. the voice-user is a sort of athlete, a specialist whose chest muscles must be strong and not covered up by very much superfluous tissue in the form of fat, etc. whatever the public may think of the goodly form, the singer must remember that fat is practically of no use to any one in voice-production, and may prove a great hindrance, possibly in some cases being a coöperative cause of that _tremolo_ so fatal to good singing. [illustration: fig. . the appearance of a well-developed, healthy person, with special reference to the chest.] [illustration: fig. . the appearance of the chest after undue compression, as with corsets.] [illustration: fig. . in this figure, the dark curved line in the middle is meant to represent the position, etc., of the diaphragm, beneath which, and fitting closely to it, are the liver, stomach, and other abdominal organs, in this case not pressed upon or injured in any way. this represents the normal human being.] [illustration: fig. . a condition the reverse of that represented in the preceding. the vital organs are pressed upon, with results some of which are obvious; others equally serious are not such as appear to the eye.] the voice-user should eschew ease and take plenty of exercise, but most of all must he use those forms of exercise which develop the breathing apparatus and tend to keep it in the best condition. walking, running, and hill climbing are all excellent, but do not in themselves suffice to develop the chest to the utmost. to the beginner the following exercises are strongly recommended. they are highly important for all, whether beginners or not, who would have the best development of the breathing apparatus. deep breathing, such a use of the respiratory organs as leads to the greatest possible expansion of the chest, should be learned and practised, if not absolutely before vocal exercises are attempted, at all events as soon after as possible. as in all cases where muscles are employed, the exercise should be _graduated_. it may be even harmful to attempt to fill the chest to its utmost capacity at once. it is better to breathe very moderately for several days. any such symptoms as dizziness or headache accompanying or following the exercises indicate that they have been too vigorous, too long continued, or carried out under unsuitable conditions. above all must the air be pure, and the body absolutely unhampered--most of all, the chest--by any form of clothing. last century most ladies and some men applied to the chest a form of apparatus known as corsets, under the mistaken belief that they were for women a necessary support and improved the figure. they no doubt were responsible for much lack of development, and feeble health, and, as has been proved by examination of the body after death, led to compression of the liver and other organs. no voice-user should use such an effective means of preventing the very thing he should most desire, a full and free use of the breathing apparatus. before carrying out the exercises suggested or others equally good, the student is recommended to be weighed, and especially to have the chest carefully _measured_. this can be done with sufficient accuracy by the use of a tape-measure. it will be well to take the circumference a few inches above and below a certain point, so that it may be ascertained that the chest expands in every region. the measurements should be taken under the following conditions: . the chest should be almost or wholly divested of clothing. . its circumference is to be ascertained--(_a_) when the breath has been allowed to pass out gently, and before a new breath is taken; (_b_) with the deepest possible inspiration; (_c_) after the deepest possible expiration, which has been preceded by a similar inspiration. after about three weeks the individual should be again measured, by the same person, in exactly the same way, in order to learn whether there has been development or not, and, if so, how much. it is important that the measurements should be made at exactly the same horizontal planes, and with this end in view it is desirable to put a small mark of some kind on the chest, which may remain till the next measurements are made. the method of breathing recommended is as follows: . inhale very slowly through the nostrils, with closed mouth, counting mentally one, two, three, four, etc., with regularity. . hold the breath thus taken, but only for a short time, counting in the same manner as before. . exhale slowly, still counting. after a few moments' rest the exercise may be again carried out in the same way. these exercises may be in series, several times a day. the following warnings are especially to be observed: . never continue any exercise when there is a sense of discomfort of any kind whatever. such usually indicates that it is being carried out too vigorously. . increase the depth of the inspirations daily, but not very rapidly. . the inspirations and expirations should both be carried out very slowly at first. . cease the exercise before any sense of fatigue is experienced. fatigue is nature's warning, and should be always obeyed. it indicates that the waste products which result from the use of the muscles are accumulating and proving harmful. after a week of such exercises the following modification of them is recommended: . inhale with the lips slightly apart. . gradually increase the length of the time the breath is held, but let it never exceed a few seconds. . through open lips allow the breath to pass out, but with extreme slowness. the student should try to increase this last, somewhat, daily, as it is above all what is required in singing, and also in speaking, though to a somewhat less degree--a slow, regulated expulsion of the breath. if when the chest is full of air the subject gently raises the arms over the head, or directs them backward, he will experience a sense of pressure on the chest. if this be carefully done, its effect is to strengthen, and it is especially valuable for those inclined to stoop. the recommendation to inspire through the open lips applies only when one is in a room, or in the open air when it is warm enough and free from dust. but the student should learn to inspire through the slightly open mouth, as to breathe through the nose in speaking, and especially in singing, is objectionable for several reasons which can be better explained later; so that the rule is to _breathe through the nose when not using the voice, and through the mouth when one does_. though all the exercises thus far referred to tend to develop the diaphragm and abdominal muscles, these may be strengthened by special exercises. the diaphragm is the soft floor of the chest, and must at once bear the strain of the air that acts on the approximated vocal bands, and assist in applying that pressure with just the amount of force required, and no more; hence it is important that this muscle be both strong and under perfect control. this large central muscle is probably not only the most generally effective of all the respiratory muscles, but has an action more precise and often more delicate, more nicely controlled, than that of any other. it is possible to make very powerful movements of this muscle, and an exercise that will cause it to descend deeply and remain in a tense condition is valuable. to effect this, one pushes it down as far as possible, and holds it there for a few seconds, then permits it to relax gradually. the extent to which this is successful can be inferred from the degree to which the abdominal wall bulges forward. the sudden though slight movements required in those forms of vocalization that bear more or less resemblance to what vocalists term _staccato_, and which are so effective in dramatic speaking and singing, can be prepared for by larger but sudden movements of the diaphragm, as when one taking a full breath imitates coughing movements, but in a regular and measured way, the throat being used but little. at the same time, or separately, the abdominal muscles may be effectively exercised by being drawn in and thrust out with considerable force. none of these movements are elegant--they scarcely put one in an artistic light; but they are highly effective in strengthening parts every voice-user must employ. to furnish adequate support for the diaphragm and chest in a very vigorous use of the voice, as in the most trying passages a tragic actor has to speak or a vocalist to sing, the abdominal muscles must remain more or less tense, and to do so effectually they must have strength beyond that possessed by the corresponding muscles in ordinary persons; hence the desirability of employing special exercises to increase their vigor. hill climbing and bicycling also tend to this end, but the latter is for many reasons not a form of exercise to be recommended to one who wishes to attain the highest results with the voice. wind, dust, a stooping position, excessive heat of the body, etc., are all among the many factors of risk for the delicate vocal mechanism. as the expiratory blast is so important in voice-production, the exercises above recommended should be followed by others in which this principle is specially recognized. . inspire so as to fill the chest to the fullest with considerable rapidity; then allow the breath-stream to pass out with the utmost slowness. . fill the chest with special reference to its lower or its upper part, as desired, and very rapidly, letting the breath flow out slowly. summary. the primary purpose of respiration in all animals is the same--namely, to furnish oxygen and remove carbon dioxide (carbonic acid). the lowest animals, as the amoeba, breathe by the whole surface of the body. in all vertebrates the anatomical mechanism is essentially the same: a membrane (covered with flat cells) in which the blood is distributed in the minutest blood-vessels (capillaries). respiration is finally effected in the tissues (cells) of the body. the more active the animal, or the higher in the scale, the more need of frequent interchange between the air, the blood, and the tissues. the respiratory organs in mammals are the mouth, nose, larynx, trachea, bronchial tubes, and lung-tissue or air-cells proper. the windpipe is made up of cartilaginous rings completed by membrane, muscle, etc. (behind). the bronchial tubes are the continuation of the windpipe, and branch tree-like until they become very fine. the air-cells are built round these latter. the lung-tissue is highly elastic. the lungs are made up of an elastic membrane, covered with flat cells, and very abundantly supplied with a mesh-work of the finest blood-vessels. the whole of the respiratory tract as far as the air-cells is lined by mucous membrane. the air consists essentially of parts of oxygen and parts of nitrogen, with a variable quantity of watery vapor. only a small portion of the total oxygen of the air is removed before it is exhaled. the respiratory act consists of ( ) inspiration, and ( ) expiration; the latter is of a little longer duration than the former. the rate of breathing in man is from to per minute, in the resting state, or about one respiration to three or four heart-beats. the quantity of air inspired depends on ( ) the size of the thorax, and ( ) the extent of its movements. these are effected solely by muscular contractions, and give rise to an increase in all the diameters of the thorax. the lungs are closely applied (but not attached) to the inside of the chest wall, and remain so under all circumstances. when the chest cavity is enlarged by inspiration, the air, pressing down into the elastic lungs, expands them as much as possible, that is, as much as the chest walls will allow; but the lungs are never at any time either filled with or emptied of air to their utmost capacity. at most, the amount of expansion is very moderate. _the quantity of air in the lungs._ . the quantity of air inspired in quiet breathing is about - cubic inches. . the quantity that can be added to this by a deep inspiration is about cubic inches. . the quantity that can be expelled by a forcible expiration is about cubic inches. . the quantity that cannot be expelled at all is about cubic inches. the above are named: ( ) the tidal air; ( ) complemental air; ( ) supplemental air; ( ) residual air. the quantity that can be expelled by the most forcible expiration after the most forcible inspiration, that is, the air that can be moved, indicating the "vital capacity," is about - inches. the chest is enlarged by the muscles of inspiration, the principal of which is the diaphragm or midriff. this muscle (tendinous in the centre) is attached to the spinal column (behind) and to the last six or seven ribs. when it contracts it becomes less domed upward, and is pressed down more or less on the contents of the abdomen; hence the walls of the latter move outward. during ordinary inspiration the lower ribs are steadied by other muscles, so that no indrawing of these ribs takes place, but a very forcible expiration makes such indrawing very noticeable. in addition to the enlargement of the chest by the descent of the diaphragm, the ribs are elevated and everted by the muscles attached to them, with the total result that the chest cavity is enlarged in all its three diameters during inspiration. the first rib is fixed by muscles from above. during extremely forced inspiration a large proportion of all the muscles of the body may act. ordinary expiration is the result largely of the elastic recoil of the chest walls, only a few muscles taking part. the diaphragm ascends and becomes more domed. during forced expiration many other muscles are called into action. it is of importance for the singer and speaker to note: ( ) that the chest cavity should be increased in all its directions; ( ) that the muscular action should be easy and under perfect control, but also vigorous when required; ( ) that the breath be taken through the nostrils when the individual is not actually vocalizing or about to do so; ( ) that the breath be kept in or let out in the proportion required. breathing is a reflex or involuntary act. the respiratory centre, consisting of an expiratory and inspiratory division, is situated in the bulb, or medulla oblongata, the portion of the brain just above the spinal cord. all the ingoing nervous impulses affect respiration through the outgoing impulses that pass along the nerves to the muscles; that is, the ingoing impulses pass up by the nerves from the lungs to the centre, and thence along other nerves to the respiratory muscles. the condition of the blood determines the activity of the respiratory centre, but the incoming impulses regulate this activity. the respiratory centre can be approached from every part of the body. _hygiene._ every thing that favors the full and free expansion of the chest in a pure atmosphere is favorable, and the reverse unfavorable. corsets are against the laws of beauty, are unnecessary for support, and may by compression injure and displace important organs, as the liver, stomach, etc.; and must interfere with the fullest expansion of the chest. they have militated against the physical, and indirectly the moral and mental advancement of the race. _practical exercises._ i. measurements of the chest. ii. exercises to strengthen muscles, promote complete expansion, regulate inflow and outflow of air, etc. . (_a_) inspiring slowly, with counting. (_b_) holding. (_c_) expiring slowly, with counting. . the same, holding longer. . the same, with shorter inspiration and longer expiration. gradually diminish first and lengthen last. . breathing through open lips. . exercises to strengthen diaphragm. . exercises to improve shape of chest and strengthen muscles. . exercises to strengthen abdominal muscles. chapter vi. the special voice-producing mechanism, the larynx. the larynx, or voice-box, is not the sole voice-producing apparatus, as is often supposed, but it is of great, possibly the greatest, importance. in describing the parts of this portion of the vocal mechanism the author deems it wiser to use the terms commonly employed by anatomists and physiologists, as others are awkward and inadequate. moreover, there is this great advantage in learning the technical names of structures, that should the reader desire to consult a special work on anatomy in reference to this or other important organs, he will find in use the same terms as he has himself already learned. such are, as a matter of fact, not difficult to learn or remember if one knows their derivation or other reason for their employment. all the muscles of the larynx have names which are not arbitrary but based on the names of the structures to which they are attached, so that one has but to know their connections and the names of the solid structures, which are few, to have a key to the whole nomenclature. when one is not using the voice the larynx is simply a part of the respiratory apparatus, but when one phonates this organ assumes a special function for which specific structures are essential. as sound is caused by vibrations of the air, and these may be set up by vibrations of the vocal cords, it may with absolute correctness be said that the whole larynx exists for the vocal bands so far as voice-production is concerned. such a view renders the study of the larynx much more interesting and rational; one is then engaged in working out that solution of a problem which nature has accomplished. the vocal cords, we can conceive, might be either relaxed or tightened, and lengthened or shortened, or both, and beyond that we can scarcely understand how they might have been modified so as to be effective in the production of sounds of different pitch. as a matter of fact, these are the methods nature has employed to accomplish her purpose. for each vocal cord one fixed point, and only one, is required. we know of only one method in use by nature to cause movement in living structures--viz., contraction, and muscle is the tissue which above all others has that property; hence the movements of the vocal cords are brought about by muscles. but both for the attachment of the muscles and the vocal cords themselves solid, relatively hard structures are required. bone would prove too unyielding, but cartilage, or gristle, meets the case exactly. the entire framework of the larynx--its skeleton, so to speak--is made up of a series of cartilages united together so as to ensure sufficient firmness with pliability. the cartilages have been named from their shape, as that appealed to the original observers, and the terms employed are of greek origin. the largest and strongest is the _thyroid_ (_thureos_, a shield) cartilage, which resembles somewhat two shields put together in front without any visible joint, and open behind but presenting a strongly convex surface externally, in front and laterally. "front" (anterior) and "back" (posterior) always refer in anatomy to the subject described, and not to the observer's position. in observing another's larynx the subject observed and the observer naturally stand front to front, and it is impossible to see or touch the back of the larynx as it is covered behind by the other structures of the neck. this thyroid, the largest of the cartilages, is attached to the hyoid or tongue bone above by a membrane, so that the whole larynx hangs suspended from this bone by a membrane, though not by it alone, for muscles are attached to it which also serve for its support. it is of practical importance to remember that the larynx is free to a very considerable extent, otherwise it would go ill with the voice-producer in the vigorous use of the voice, not to mention the advantages of mobility as well as pliability in the movements of the neck generally. [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). shows the thyroid cartilage above and the cricoid below both viewed from the side. the anterior surface is turned toward the right.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). a front view of fig. .] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). the back or signet surface of the cricoid or ring cartilage, to which several muscles are attached.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). the cricoid cartilage, seen from the side, and showing behind and laterally the articular or joint surfaces by which it connects with the thyroid below and the arytenoid cartilage above.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). shows the arytenoid cartilages, the most important of all the cartilages of the larynx, inasmuch as to the part termed "vocal process" the vocal band is attached on each side. the movements of the vocal bands are nearly all determined by the movements of these cartilages, which have a swivel-like action. in the above the front surfaces are turned toward each other.] the _cricoid_ (_krikos_, a signet-ring) is the cartilage next in size. it is situated below the thyroid cartilage, with which it is connected by a membrane, the crico-thyroid. the wider part of this signet-ring is situated behind, where it affords attachment to large muscles. it also furnishes a base of support for two very important structures, the _arytenoid_ (_arutaina_, a ladle) cartilages. as the vocal bands are attached behind to them, and as they have a large degree of mobility, they are from a physiological point of view the most important of all the solid structures of the larynx. there are two pairs of small bodies, the _cartilages of santorini_, or _cornicula laryngis_, surmounting the arytenoids, and the _cuneiform_, or _cartilages of wrisberg_, situated in the folds of mucous membrane on each side of the arytenoids; but these structures are of little importance. the whole of the inner surface of the larynx is lined with mucous membrane, though that covering over the true vocal bands is very thin, and so does not cause them to appear red like the false vocal bands, which are merely folds of the mucous membrane. however, the true vocal bands may become red and thickened when inflamed, because of this same mucous membrane, which, though ordinarily not visible to the eye, becomes so when the condition referred to is present; for inflammation is always attended by excess in the blood supply, with a prominence of the small blood-vessels resulting in a corresponding redness. the same thing happens, in fact, as in inflammation of the eyes or the nose, both of which are more open to observation. bearing this in mind one can readily understand why in such a condition, which is often approached if not actually present in the case of "a cold," the voice becomes so changed. such vocal bands are clumsy in movement, as the arms or any other part would be if thus swollen. the plain remedy is rest, cessation of function--no speaking, much less attempts at singing. like the nose the larynx, and especially the vocal bands, may be catarrhal, and such a condition may call for medical treatment before the speaker or singer can do the most effective vocal work. while the _false vocal bands_ have little or nothing to do with phonation directly, they do serve a good purpose as protectors to the more exalted true vocal bands. when coughing, swallowing, vomiting, holding the breath tightly, etc., these folds of mucous membrane close over the true bands, often completely, and thus shut up for the moment the whole of that space between the bands known as the glottis, or glottic chink, to which reference was made in a previous chapter as the space through which the air finally gains access to the lungs. the true vocal cords (which, because of having some breadth and being rather flat, are better termed vocal bands) are composed largely of _elastic tissue_. the reader may be familiar with this structure, which is often to be found in the portions of the neck of the ox that the butcher sells as soup beef. it is yellow in color, and stretching it has furnished many a boy with amusement. it is so unmanageable when raw that when it falls to the dog he usually bolts it, the case being otherwise hopeless. such elastic tissue is, however, the very material for the construction of vocal bands, as they require to be firm yet elastic. [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). a view of the larynx from behind. several of the muscles are well shown, of which the two indicated above are of the most importance. the arytenoideus proprius tends to bring the cartilages from which it is named, and therefore the vocal bands, toward each other; while the posterior crico-thyroid, from its attachments and line of pull, tends to separate these and lengthen the vocal bands.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). showing structures as indicated above. the mucous membrane, that naturally covers all parts within the vocal mechanism, has been dissected away to show the muscles.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). showing the parts indicated above; and of these the crico-thyroid muscle is to be especially observed. the oblique (especially so in the posterior part) direction of its fibres is evident, so that when it contracts, it must pull up the ring cartilage in front, and so tilt back its hinder portion and with it the arytenoid cartilages, and so lengthen and tense the vocal bands, as in the utterance of low tones.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). a back (posterior) view of the larynx, etc. note how the arytenoid cartilages rest on the cricoid; how the epiglottis overhangs, as its name implies, the glottis; and that the posterior part of the windpipe is closed in by soft structures, including (unstriped) muscle.] it is important to remember the relative position of parts and to bear in mind that most of the laryngeal structures are in pairs. to this last statement the thyroid and cricoid cartilages and the epiglottis are exceptions, being single. of the _epiglottis_, a flexible cartilage, it is necessary to say little, as its function in voice-production, if it have any, has never been determined. it hangs as a flexible protective lid over the glottis, and food in being swallowed passes over and about it. it no doubt acts to keep food and drink out of the larynx, yet in its absence, in some cases, owing to disease, no very great difficulty was experienced, probably because certain muscles acted more vigorously than usual and tended to close up the glottic chink. the following simple diagram will, it is hoped, make the relative position of parts plain so far as the anterior (front) attachments of parts to the thyroid cartilage are concerned. it will be understood that the inner anterior surface is meant, and that by "middle line" is intended the middle line of the body, the imaginary vertical diameter passing like a plumb-line from the middle plane of the head, let us suppose, downward just in front of the larynx. [illustration: fig. .] the angle made above and in front where the two wings of the thyroid cartilage meet is termed _adam's apple_ (_pomum adami_), and in some cases, mostly males, is very prominent. adam's apple has in itself, however, no special significance in voice-production. the little concavity between the false vocal bands above and the true vocal bands below is termed the _ventricle of the larynx_. it allows of more space for the free movements of the bands, especially those more important in voice-production. the vocal bands are attached behind to the projecting angle of the base of the arytenoid cartilage, which is itself somewhat triangular in shape, the base of the triangle being downward and resting on the upper and posterior (back) surface of the cricoid cartilage, with which it makes a free joint, so that it can move swivel-like in all directions. this is most important, because through it is explained the fact that the vocal bands may be either tensed and lengthened or relaxed and shortened. _the muscles act on these movable cartilages, and nearly all the changes in the vocal bands are brought about through the alterations in position of the arytenoid cartilages, to which they are attached behind._ before describing the muscles of the larynx, the reader is reminded of the order of structures from above downward, in front, which is as follows: the hyoid bone. the thyro-hyoid membrane. the thyroid cartilage. the crico-thyroid membrane. the cricoid cartilage. the trachea. the latter is connected with the cricoid cartilage by its membrane. all the above structures can be felt in one's own person, the more readily if he be thin and have a long neck. the hyoid bone, or tongue-bone, is that hard structure just above the cricoid cartilage, and which one may easily demonstrate to be much more movable than the larynx itself. the tongue muscles are attached to it above, and from it, below, the larynx is suspended, as already explained. the muscles of the larynx are best understood if the principle of antagonistic action already referred to be remembered. speaking generally, the muscles are arranged _in pairs_ which have an opposite or antagonistic action--viz.: ( ) those that open and close the glottis; ( ) those that regulate the tension, or degree of tightness, of the vocal bands. . the muscles whose action tends to approximate the vocal bands--the _adductors_--are the _arytenoid[=e]us proprius_ and the _thyro-arytenoid[=e]us_. the former is attached to the posterior or back surface of both arytenoid cartilages; the latter, as its name indicates, to the anterior and inner surface of the thyroid and the anterior lower surface or angle (_vocal process_) of the arytenoid. the opening or widening of the glottis is effected on each side (one muscle of the pair and its action being alone described in this and other cases) by the antagonist of these muscles, the _crico-arytenoid[=e]us posticus_, whose attachments are exactly as indicated by the names--viz., to the posterior part of the two cartilages named. when reading the description of these or other muscles it is absolutely necessary to have a pictorial illustration or the real object before one. the pull of this muscle is from the more fixed point, as in all other cases; hence the force is applied in a direction from below and outward, with the result that the arytenoid cartilage is tilted outward, and with it the vocal band is moved from the middle line. [illustration: fig. (chapman). diagram showing action of crico-thyroid muscle, stretching of the vocal cords, and lengthening of them. the dotted lines indicate the position assumed when the muscle has contracted.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). view of the larynx as looked at from above. the illustration shows particularly well both the true and the false vocal bands. the true vocal bands are placed much as they are when a barytone is singing a very low tone. the part of the figure lowest on the page represents the back part of the larynx.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). a cross-section transverse to the larynx, such as can be readily made with a strong knife.] the _crico-thyroid_ also tends to open the glottis. just as the diaphragm is the most important muscle of breathing, so is the crico-thyroid the most important in ordinary speaking and in singing in the lower register. it is a relatively large and strong muscle with an oblique direction in the main, though it is composed in reality of several sets of fibres some of which are much more oblique in direction than others (fig. ). as its name indicates, its points of attachment are to the thyroid and the cricoid cartilages, but the most fixed point (_origin_) is its point of attachment to the larger cartilage; hence its direction of pull is from the thyroid, with the result that the anterior part of the cricoid is drawn up, the posterior part down, and the arytenoid cartilage, resting on the upper part of the cricoid, backward, so that the vocal band is rendered longer and more tense (see especially fig. ). it is important to note that this is the muscle most used in singing the lower tones of the scale, and that its action must necessarily cease, to a great extent, when a certain point in the pitch is reached, as there is a limit to the degree of contraction of all muscles; and, besides, the crico-thyroid space is of very moderate size, and the cricoid cartilage can ascend only within the limits thus determined. it thus follows that nature has provided in the change of mechanism for a new register, which is nothing else than a change of mechanism with a corresponding change of function. it will be at once apparent that the claim that registers are an invention of men, and without foundation in nature, is without support in anatomy and physiology. the crico-thyroid is probably, however, of much more importance to tragic actors and barytones than to tenors or sopranos. this, however, is no excuse for the neglect of its development by the latter class, as often happens, for without it the best tones of the lower register are impossible. on the other hand, the elocutionists who prescribe for students practices that involve the excessive use of this muscle, with a cramped position of the vocal organs, the larynx being greatly drawn down, with the view of producing disproportionately heavy lower tones, must take no comfort from the above anatomical and physiological facts. art implies proportion, and it was one of the ambitions of all the best actors in the golden age of histrionic art to have an "even voice"--_i.e._, one equally good through the whole range required. the tragic actor, elocutionist, and public speaker, and the singer, whether soprano or bass, should neglect no muscle, though they may be justified in developing some in excess of others, but ever with a watchful eye on the weakest part. . the muscles which regulate the tension of the vocal bands are the following: (_a_) the _thyro-arytenoid[=e]us_ (pair), which by tilting the arytenoid cartilages forward relaxes the tension of the vocal bands. when they act with the adductors--_e.g._, the arytenoid[=e]us proprius--the result must be relaxation and approximation behind, which implies a greater or less degree of shortening, as usually happens when a certain point in an ascending scale is reached in persons whose methods of voice-production have not been in some way modified, and a new register begins, which in most female voices is marked by a more or less distinct and abrupt alteration of the quality of the tone. the crico-thyroids are the antagonists of the above-named muscles, and they may act either very much alone or, to some extent, in coöperation with the above, to regulate or steady their action; for in movements so complicated as those required for voice-production it is highly probable that we are inclined to reduce our explanations of muscular action to a simplicity that is excessive, and to appreciate but inadequately the delicacy and complexity of the mechanism and the processes involved. it is quite certain that in the production of the highest tones of a tenor or soprano several muscles coöperate, and one, especially, seems to be of great importance in the formation of such tones, most of all, perhaps, in high sopranos. the muscle referred to is the thyro-arytenoid already described. it is not only attached to the two cartilages indicated by its name, but also along the whole of the external or outer surface of the vocal band. it will be remembered that practically all the muscles are arranged in pairs, one on each side of the middle line. the muscle now under consideration, more, perhaps, than any other, is complex in its action. apparently a very few of its fibres may act more or less independently of all the others at a particular moment and with a specific and very delicate result, a very slight change in pitch. exactly how this is attained no one has as yet adequately explained; but it is doubtful whether any singer who does not possess a perfect control over this muscle can produce the highest tones of the soprano with ease and effectiveness. it is especially the muscle of the human birds of the higher flights. (_b_) to these thyro-arytenoids, which for most singers and all speakers are probably chiefly relaxing in action, must be added as aiding in this function another pair, the _lateral crico-arytenoids_. they are situated between the cricoid and arytenoid cartilages, and the direction of action is obliquely from below and forward, upward, and backward, so that the arytenoids are brought forward and also approximated more or less, which involves relaxed tension, at least, possibly also shortening of the vocal bands. when a tenor or soprano singer reaches the upper tones, say about [illustration: e'' f'' g''], or higher, there is considerable closing up in the larynx, much in the way in which the parts of the month are brought together in sucking. this is termed _sphincter action_, the mouth and the eyes being closed by such action, of which they are the most easily observed examples. as a result of this squeezing there is in some cases that reddening of the face and that tightness which is often felt uncomfortably, and which is _straining_, because when present in more than a very slight degree it is injurious, owing to congestion or accumulation of blood in the blood-vessels, with all the bad consequences of such a state of things. when the tightening does not go beyond a certain point it is normal--indeed, such sphincter action is inevitable; but it is the excess which is so common in tenors and others who strain for undue power, and to produce tones too high in pitch for their development or their method, which is so disastrous to the throat and to the best art also. [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). shows various structures, and especially well the false and the true vocal bands, with the space between them (ventricle of morgagni), but which has no special function in phonation, unless it acts as a small resonance-chamber, which is possible. this space is a natural result of the existence of two pairs of vocal bands in such close proximity.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). parts have been cut away to expose to view the whole of the inner surface of the larynx (lined with mucous membrane). an excellent view of the vocal bands and of the "ventricle" of the larynx, between them, is afforded.] when the vocal bands are in action their vibrations are accompanied by corresponding vibrations of the cartilages of the larynx--a fact of which any one may convince himself by laying his fingers on the upper part of the thyroid, especially when a low and powerful tone is produced. this vibration is not confined to the larynx, but extends to other parts--_e.g._, the chest itself, for when one speaks or sings a distinct vibration of the chest walls can be felt, though the extent to which this is present is very variable in different persons. as an ascending scale is sung the larynx can be felt (by the fingers) to rise, and the reverse as the pitch is lowered. this is due partly to the action of those muscles attached to the larynx which are not connected with the movements of the vocal bands, and partly to the influence of the expiratory air-blast. the glottis, partially closed as it must be in phonation, presents considerable resistance to the outgoing stream of air, hence the upward movement of the larynx when it is left free, and not held down by muscular action. in singing and speaking the larynx should be steadied, otherwise the "attack," or application of the air-blast to the vocal bands, cannot be perfect. on the other hand, it is obviously incorrect to attempt to hold the larynx always in the same position. holding down this organ by main force, as in the production of the so-called "straw bass," is one of the surest methods of producing congestion and consequent disorders of the vocal organs; and the author wishes to warn all voice-producers against such unnatural practices. students of elocution and young actors often sin in a similar way, and "clergyman's sore throat" is almost always due to this or some similar misuse of the vocal organs. one's own sensations and common sense should never be disregarded, however eminent the teacher who recommends unphysiological methods. practical considerations. when the student has read the above description of the structure and functions of the larynx, and studied the illustrations well, he will be prepared to deal with the subject in a practical manner, and without that it is feared his ideas will remain somewhat hazy. first of all, he should try to find the parts mentioned in his own person, following this up by examinations of others, for which purpose children make good subjects, as they have usually necks that are not too deeply padded with fat, and they may be easily led to take the examinations as a sort of fun. from above downward one feels in the middle line the parts in the order previously mentioned, beginning with the hyoid bone. one may learn that the larynx is movable and yielding, a hard structure covered with softer tissues, but what these are, and much more, can only be learned by examination of the larynx after it has been removed from some animal. every butcher can provide the material for getting a sound, practical knowledge of the respiratory apparatus. he may be asked to supply the following: . a pig's "pluck"--_i.e._, the "lights," or lungs, with the windpipe attached. the liver, heart, etc., are not required, though to observe the relations of the circulatory system--_i.e._, the heart and large blood-vessels--to the respiratory system will be time well spent. unless special instructions are given, the larynx, which the butcher may term the "weezend," may be lacking or mutilated. it should be explained that this organ, with a part of the windpipe and the extreme back part of the tongue, and all below it, are required. for one sitting this single "pluck" will suffice, as it will serve for a general examination. the lungs may be dilated by inserting a tube into the windpipe, tying it in position, and blowing into it with greater or less force. it should be especially observed how suddenly the lungs collapse when the breath force is removed, as this illustrates well their _elasticity_. by cutting through the windpipe lengthwise and following it downward one learns how numerous are the branches of the bronchial tree, etc. for a second sitting one should secure at least two specimens of the larynx of the pig or sheep, though the former is more like the human, and so the better on the whole. a case of dissecting instruments is not essential; a sharp pocket-knife will serve the purpose. in order that the student may have a clear idea of the cartilages, all the soft tissues must be cut or scraped away. it is necessary to exercise great care, or the membranes connecting the cartilages together will be cut through; and on the other hand, unless the work in the neighborhood of the arytenoids be cautiously done, these cartilages may be injured, and it is most important that their swivel-like action and their relations to the true vocal bands be observed. the glottic chink can be seen from above or below, and should be observed from both view-points. its margins are formed by the true vocal bands. then, with the figures before him, the student should endeavor to isolate each of the muscles described. the muscles can always be recognized by their red color, but it is to be remembered that those on the inner surface of the larynx, such as the crico-arytenoid, are covered with mucous membrane, which after death is very pale. this can by careful dissection be removed, and if in doing this a small pair of forceps be employed, the work will be greatly facilitated. one must be very skilful indeed if he would get all the muscles "out," or well exposed to view as individuals, on a single specimen. likely several will be required before entirely satisfactory results are reached, but these are well worth all the time and labor required. the action of the muscles can in some measure be demonstrated by pulling on them in the direction of their loosest attachment, though it must be confessed this is much more difficult in the case of most of the muscles of the larynx than in those of other parts of the body. should the specimens be very successfully dissected, it may be worth while to keep them for future observation, in rather weak alcohol ( per cent.), in, say, a preserve jar. all examinations of the vocal bands may leave the observer disappointed; he may fail to realize, most likely, how such wonderful results can be accomplished by structures so simple as those he sees before him. but when the laryngoscope is brought into use, then comes a revelation. this instrument will be described in the next chapter. hygiene. some of the hygienic principles involved have already been referred to and illustrated, and others follow from the facts already set forth. it is very important for the voice-user to bear in mind that his larynx is a part of the respiratory tract, and that the whole of this region and the entire digestive tract, part of which is common to both, are lined with mucous membrane. if the nose be affected with catarrh, the throat does not usually long escape; and if the back of the mouth cavity (_pharynx_) be disordered, the vocal bands and other parts of the larynx are almost sure to be involved more or less. the condition of the stomach is reflexly, if not by direct continuity through the mucous membrane, expressed in the throat generally; hence as experience shows, the voice-user cannot exercise too great care as to what and how much he eats, especially before a public appearance. he must know himself what best suits him, in this regard, to a degree that is necessary for few others. when singing, more blood is sent to the organs used, hence the great danger of that excess of blood being retained in the parts too long, as might easily happen from pressure about the neck, etc. it is scarcely necessary to point out that draughts, cold rooms, etc., will also determine the blood from the skin inward, and set up that complicated condition of multiform evils known as "a cold." the obvious principle of prevention lies in keeping the body, and especially the neck, shoulders, and chest, warm after using the vocal organs in any way in public. to hand the singer a wrap after leaving the platform is always wise, and the judicious friend will see that conversation is not allowed, much less forced on the possibly breathless and wearied voice-user--a precaution that is probably more honored in the breach than in the observance, for in this as in other cases one's friends are sometimes his worst enemies. summary. the larynx is the most important organ in voice-production, and consists of cartilages, muscles, the vocal bands, true and false, membranes and ligaments, folds of mucous membrane, etc. it is situated between the hyoid (tongue) bone above and the trachea below. the cartilages are the ( ) epiglottis, ( ) thyroid, cricoid, arytenoid, the two small, unimportant cornicula laryngis, or cartilages of santorini, surmounting the arytenoids, and the two cuneiform, or cartilages of wrisberg, in the folds of mucous membrane on each side of the arytenoids. the muscles are attached to the main cartilages. in addition to the muscles that are concerned with the movements of the vocal bands, others that hold the larynx in place or raise and lower it are attached _externally_ to these, especially to the large thyroid cartilage. the epiglottis, the false vocal cords, the true vocal cords, and the thyro-arytenoid muscles are attached to the interior anterior surface of the thyroid in this order from above down. the false vocal bands have no direct function in phonation. _the whole larynx, so far as phonation is concerned, may be said to exist for the true vocal bands._ they are attached close together to the internal and anterior surface of the thyroid in front and to the lower anterior angles (vocal processes) of the arytenoids behind. between the false vocal bands above and the true vocal bands below there is a cavity (the ventricle of morgagni). the false vocal bands are protective, and approximate closely during coughing, swallowing, etc. it is very important to note that the arytenoid cartilages move freely on their base, swivel-like, so that nearly all the changes effected in the movements and tension of the vocal bands are brought about through alterations in the position of these cartilages; and this implies that all the muscles concerned are attached to them. from above down, in front, the order of structures is as follows: hyoid bone. membrane. thyroid cartilage. membrane. cricoid cartilage. trachea. the hyoid bone is not a part of the larynx, but from it the larynx is suspended. the bone itself gives attachment to the muscles of the tongue. the glottis is the chink between the true vocal bands. the muscles of the larynx may be divided into the following: ( ) those that open and those that close the glottis; ( ) those which regulate the tension of the vocal bands. the latter include the (_a_) crico-thyroids, which tense and elongate them, (_b_) thyro-arytenoids, which relax and shorten them. the crico-thyroid may be considered the most important muscle of phonation, because it is so much used and so effective. by its action the cricoid is pulled up in front and down behind, so that the arytenoids are drawn back, and thus the vocal bands tensed and lengthened. the lateral crico-arytenoids and the thyro-arytenoids have the opposite effect--_i.e._, they relax and shorten the vocal bands; hence when they come into play a new register begins. the thyro-arytenoids, attached along the whole length of the vocal bands externally, have a very important but not well-understood action in the production of the higher tones, and probably also of the falsetto. the whole larynx is lined with mucous membrane, that covering the true vocal bands being very thin. the false vocal bands are made up chiefly of mucous membrane; the true vocal bands abound in elastic tissue. the larynx rises during the production of high tones, and during phonation its vibrations may be felt, as also those of the chest. _practical._ . feel in your own person the parts of the larynx, etc., from above down. . note the vibration of the larynx when a vowel is spoken or sung. a similar vibration of the chest walls may be felt by the hands laid over them. . note the change of position of the larynx in singing a scale. . dissect a pig's or sheep's pluck and some specimens of the larynx. [illustration: fig. . these three figures illustrate perhaps more clearly the _action_ of the muscles indicated figs. - . the arrows show the direction of the pull of the muscles. the result of this action is the new position of the cartilages and vocal bands, which is shown by red outlines. the muscle is also depicted in red. the heavier outer rim is to indicate the thyroid cartilage. by comparing the upper and the lowest figure it will be seen that they are opposites. of course, in phonation the vocal bands are never so much separated as shown in the illustrations. rather does the lower figure indicate a case of extreme separation due to a very deep inspiration. however, these illustrations are merely diagrams meant to indicate in a general way the manner of the working of parts. for exact pictures of the vocal bands and related parts, see chapter vii.] chapter vii. sound--the laryngoscope--the larynx reconsidered. before discussing our subject further it is desirable that some attention be given to a few of the fundamental principles of that department of physics termed _acoustics_, and which deals with the subject of sound. if the student has the opportunity to study this subject theoretically and practically, as it is set forth in some good work on physics, he will have no reason to regret the time spent. a deep knowledge of the laws of sound is not absolutely essential, or even highly necessary, for a sufficient understanding of the principles involved in voice-production. it is, however, all-important that a few facts and principles be thoroughly grasped. for those who feel that they have the time for a study of acoustics, the author would especially recommend tyndall's work on sound, in which the subject is treated with wonderful clearness and charm. what we endeavor now to bring before the reader we have found sufficient for nearly all the purposes of the voice-user. an observer on the street, looking at a military band, notices certain movements of one member of the organization which result in what he termed the sound of the drum; but a deaf man by his side, though he sees the movements, hears nothing. this, being analyzed, means that the movements of the drummer's arm, conveyed through the drumstick to the membrane of the drum, give rise to movements in it which set up corresponding movements of the air within the drum, which again cause movements of the body of the instrument, the whole causing movements of the external air; and here the purely physical process ends. the movements other than muscular ones are not readily observed, but experiments not only prove that they exist, but demonstrate their nature, even to their exact rate of occurrence, their size, etc. these movements are termed _vibrations_, and, as has been indicated previously, they are the sole physical cause of sound. but that the latter is not due wholly to a physical origin is evident from the fact that sound for the deaf does not exist. it must, therefore, be a personal, a subjective experience, and as the sleeping, unconscious person does not necessarily hear a sound, the process is not wholly a corporeal or physiological process; it is finally an experience of the mind, the consciousness, and so is psychological as well as physiological. the fact that sound has a physical basis in the vibrations of bodies, either solid, liquid, or gaseous, may be brought home to one in various ways. concussion or shaking of some kind is essential to start these vibrations. the air is made up of its particles, and one being moved sets up, inevitably, movements in neighboring particles on all sides, hence vibrations travel in all directions; which explains why a sound in the street may be heard by those in every part of the street not too distant, and also in the upper rooms of the houses and below in the basements. this is an important fact for the singer or speaker to bear in mind. his purpose must be to set up vibrations that will travel with great perfection and rapidity in all directions. the following experiments of a simple kind will serve to convince those who may not have given much attention to the subject that sound is due to movements of some object, which we term the sounding body, strictly that which starts the vibrations by its own movements or vibrations. if a sufficiently flexible band of metal or a stiff piece of whalebone be fixed at one end in a vice, and then sharply pulled to one side and suddenly let go, a sound results. the same effect is produced when a tight cord or small rope is plucked at and then suddenly released. in each of these cases, if actual movements are not seen, a certain haze which seems to surround the object may be observed. the same can be seen when a tuning-fork is set into action by a bow, a blow, etc. in the case of the fork a graphic tracing (fig. ) can be readily taken on smoked paper, thus demonstrating to the eye that vibrations exist, that they occur with perfect regularity and with a frequency that can be measured. [illustration: fig. (tyndall). illustrates how the vibrations of a tuning-fork are registered on a blackened (smoked) glass. in order that the movements of the fork shall be traced in the form of regular curves, the surface must be kept moving at a definite regular rate.] a similar observation can be made in the case of stringed instruments. if pieces of paper be laid on the strings of a violin, and the bow then drawn across them, the bits of paper will fly off owing to the movements--_i.e._, the vibrations--of the strings. that a force applied at one end of several objects in a line or series causes an obvious effect at the other end, can be well illustrated in a simple way. if a number of individuals stand one behind another in a line, each with his hands laid firmly on the shoulders of the one next to him, and the person at the end be pushed, the force will be conveyed through all the intermediate individuals, and cause the unsupported person at the distant end to move. so is it with the particles of which the air is composed. the movements begun in the drum set up by contact corresponding movements or vibrations in the adjacent air, which ultimately reach the hearing subject's ear, thereby affect his brain, and are accompanied by that change in consciousness which he terms "hearing." it will be observed that these events constitute a chain, and a break anywhere will prevent a sound being heard; there is then, in fact, no sound. sounds are characterized by _pitch_, _volume_, and _quality_. the _pitch_ is determined by the number of vibrations that reach the ear within a certain time; the more numerous the sound-waves (vibrations) in a second, the higher the pitch. [illustration: fig. (tyndall). meant to illustrate vibrations. the impulse communicated by the ball pushed from the hand to all the intervening ones causes only the last to actually move bodily.] animals differ a good deal as to the limits of hearing. cats hear very high-pitched sounds, as of mice, that human beings may not notice, and it is likely that insects hear sounds altogether beyond the limit of the human ear. but it is wonderful how much human beings differ among themselves in regard to this matter. it has surprised the author to find that many persons cannot hear the high-pitched note of certain birds, as the wax-wing. the lower limit, speaking generally, is for most persons vibrations, and the highest vibrations a second, according to helmholtz, hence the entire range of the human ear would be fully octaves; but the practical range of musical sounds is within and vibrations a second--_i.e._, about octaves--and, as is well known, even this range is beyond the appreciation of most persons, though as to this much depends on cultivation--attention to the subject extending over a considerable period of time. the _volume_, or loudness, of a sound depends on the size of the vibrations, just as one feels a blow from a large object, other things being equal, more than from a small one. the ear drum-head is in the case of a large sound beaten, as it were, more powerfully. the singers that give us bigness of sound instead of quality belabor our ears, so to speak; they treat us as persons of mean understanding--dull intellects; the thing is essentially vulgar. the _quality_ of a sound is determined by the form of the vibrations. a sound of good quality is to the ear what a beautiful statue or picture is to the eye. as will be explained later, the form or quality depends largely on the shape, etc., of the resonance-chambers above the vocal bands. much discussion has taken place from time to time as to the nature of the larynx as a musical instrument, some being inclined to regard it as most closely allied to a stringed instrument, others to a wind-instrument. it has obviously points of resemblance to both, but the most recent researches make it clearer than ever that it is neither one nor the other, strictly speaking, but that it stands in a class by itself. it is, however, helpful, in considering many questions, to bear in mind its resemblances to both wind and stringed instruments. the vocal bands are not wholly free throughout their length, like the strings of a violin, nor do they bear any great resemblance to the reed of such an instrument as the clarinet, but as in the latter the force causing the vibrations is a blast of air. we have already pointed out that the vocal bands are set into vibration solely by the _expiratory_ blast of air. the laryngoscope. the distinguished physiologist johannes müller demonstrated the working of the larynx by special experiments. he fixed into the windpipe a bellows, and showed, in the dead larynx, of course, that the blast from this source could cause the vocal bands to vibrate and thus produce sounds, which by varying the strength of the force, etc., were made to vary in pitch. while such experiments indicate the essential principles of a possible voice-production, as the conditions in life were not and could not be fully met these results were rather suggestive than demonstrative of nature's methods. these investigations served a good purpose, but they were manifestly inadequate, and this was felt by one thoughtful vocal teacher so keenly that he pondered much on the subject, in the hope of finding a method of observing the larynx during actual phonation. to this distinguished teacher, manuel garcia, belongs the honor of inventing the means of observing the vocal bands in action. this was accomplished in , and, soon after, garcia read an account of his observations to the royal society of london; and though much in this paper required correction by subsequent observations, it remains to this day the foundation of our knowledge of the action of the larynx in voice-production. [illustration: fig. (bosworth). intended to illustrate the optical principles involved and the practical method of carrying out laryngoscopic examination. the dotted lines show the paths of the light-rays.] as usually employed, the laryngoscope consists of two mirrors, the head-mirror, so called because it is usually attached to the forehead by an elastic band, and the throat-mirror, which is placed in the back part of the mouth cavity. the purpose of the head-mirror is to reflect the light that reaches it from a lamp or other source of illumination into the mouth cavity so perfectly that not only the back of the mouth, etc., but the larynx itself may be well lighted up; but inasmuch as this illumination may be accomplished, under favorable circumstances, by direct sunlight, the head-mirror is, though mostly indispensable, not an absolutely essential part of the laryngoscope. there is, indeed, one advantage in the use of direct sunlight, in that the color of the parts seen remains more nearly normal. lamplight tends, because of its yellow color, to make parts seem rather of a deeper red than they actually are; but this to the practised observer, always using the same source of illumination, is not a serious matter--his standards of comparison remain the same. moreover, this objection does not apply equally to electric light, now so much used. [illustration: fig. . this illustration is meant to show more especially the relative position of observer and observed. the observer, on the right, is wearing the head-mirror, while two throat-mirrors seem to be in position--in reality, the same mirror in two different positions. one is placed so as to reflect the picture of the nasal chambers, especially their hinder portion. the walls of the nose, etc., may for the purposes of this illustration be considered transparent, so that the scroll (turbinated) bones, etc., come into view. the tongue is protruded. the light, not seen in this figure, is usually placed on the left of the subject, as in fig. .] it being a fundamental law of light that the angle of reflection and the angle of incidence correspond--are, in fact, the same--it was necessary that the throat-mirror should be set at an angle to its stem, so that the light passing up by reflection from the larynx should, when striking on the surface of this plane throat-mirror, be reflected outward in a straight line to the eye, which must be in the same horizontal plane with it. this and all the other facts and principles involved can only be understood by a careful inspection of the accompanying figures, which it is hoped will make the subject plain. the throat-mirror is none other than the mouth-mirror of the dentists, and in use by them before garcia discovered how it might be employed to throw light on the larynx, in a double sense. the essentials, then, for a view of the interior of the larynx are: a source of illumination; a mirror to reflect the light reaching it from this source into the back of the throat and larynx; and a second mirror to reflect the light outward which is, in the first instance, reflected from below, from the interior of the larynx. the principles involved are few and simple, but their application to any particular case is not easy, and is sometimes well-nigh impossible. the throat-mirror should be placed against that curtain suspended in the back of the mouth cavity known as the soft palate, so that it must be pushed back out of the line of view. but many persons find such a foreign object in the throat a sufficient cause of unpleasant sensations so that retching may be the result. generally there is a tendency to raise the tongue behind in a way fatal to a view of the mirror and the picture reflected from it. these difficulties, however, can be overcome by a deft hand using the mirror brought to "blood heat" by placing it in warm water or holding it over some source of heat, as a small lamp, and directing the subject observed to breathe freely and _through the mouth_. this latter tends to quiet that unruly member, the tongue, and lead it to assume the flat position so important to an unobstructed view. it is for the same reason the author urges mouth breathing during speaking and singing. no other tends so well to put the tongue in the correct position. the extent to which one feels the annoyance of a small mirror held gently in the throat depends really on the amount of attention directed to it, and the degree of determination with which he resolves to exercise self-control. the author has examined an entire class of students of voice-production and found only one person who did not succeed in at once giving him a view of the larynx. but it must be at once said that of all persons examined by the author during his experience as an investigator of voice-production and in special medical practice, none have been able to show their throats, the larynx included, so well as speakers and, above all, singers; which in itself indicates that speaking and singing do give control of the throat--that all its parts respond to the will of the observed person. the author must further, however, remark that he has found this control associated not so much with vocal power as with intelligent study. intelligence tells in music a good deal more than many people have yet learned to believe; but on this point the reader will long since have learned the author's views--in fact, so deep are his convictions on this subject that he hopes he may be pardoned for frequent reference to them, in one form or another. one anatomical fact may be so invincible that a view of the glottis cannot be obtained at all: the epiglottis may so overhang the opening to the larynx that a good view of its interior is absolutely impossible, in other cases only occasionally and under very favorable circumstances. such cases are, however, of the rarest occurrence, while there are not a few persons in whom one may even see down the windpipe as far as its division into the two main bronchial tubes, and inflammation may thus often be traced from the vocal bands far down the mucous membrane common to the larynx, windpipe, etc. as has been remarked previously, it is only by the use of the laryngoscope that one can see the vocal mechanism of the larynx in action, so that for investigation laryngoscopy is essential. auto-laryngoscopy, or the use of the laryngoscope by the subject to observe his own larynx, has its special difficulties and advantages, the greatest of the latter being, perhaps, that the observer may use himself as often and as long as he will, while he would hesitate to make observations on others at great length or with frequent repetition. there are no new principles involved in auto-laryngoscopy. the observer must simply see that a good light is reflected into his own throat, and that the picture in his throat-mirror is reflected into another into which he may gaze, an ordinary small hand-glass usually sufficing. only rarely is the individual met who can himself so control his tongue that assistance from the observing laryngologist is unnecessary. in by far the greater number of instances the tongue, after being protruded, must be gently held by the left hand of the observer, a small napkin covering the tip of the organ. the auto-laryngologist must, of course, control his own tongue, and better if without any hand contact. it is scarcely necessary to say that before placing the mirror in the mouth its temperature must be tested by touching it for a moment against the back of the hand. nearly all the facts of importance in phonation, several of which have already been referred to, or will be mentioned in the "summary and review" below, could only have been discovered by the use of the laryngoscope. the difference in the larynx in the two sexes and in different types of singers and speakers, though open to ordinary observation, dissection, etc., are still better brought out by the use of the instrument now under consideration. one naturally expects any organ to be larger and heavier in the male than in the female, and to this the larynx is no exception; and individual differences are equally pronounced. there may be almost if not quite as much difference between the larynx of a barytone and of a tenor as between that of an ordinary man who is not a public voice-user and the larynx of the ordinary woman. the larynx of the contralto may in its size and general development remind one of the same organ in the male. the vocal bands of the bass singer may be to those of a soprano as are the strings of a violoncello to those of a violin--using these examples, it will be understood, merely as rough illustrations. the change in the size of the larynx produced by even a few months' judicious practice may be astonishing. as already hinted, it is important that in bringing about this development exclusive attention should not be given, as is sometimes done, especially in the case of speakers, to the lower tones, though it is not so important for them as for singers to have an even development up to the highest range. but again the author would urge the voice-user to aim at attaining that delicate control of muscles (neuro-muscular mechanisms, to speak more scientifically) so important for the finest vocal effects, rather than be satisfied with mere power. the vocalist and speaker must indeed be athletic specialists, but they should not aim at being like the ordinary athlete, much less mere strong men of the circus. it is said that madame mara within her range of three octaves could effect changes of pitch, or between each two tones of the twenty-one in her compass, which would represent a successive change in the length of the vocal bands of a small fraction, possibly not more than / of an inch--something unapproachable in nicety in the use of any other instrument. even if we make large deductions from the above, the performances of those who have reached the highest laryngeal control must remain marvellous, all the more when it is remembered that this control over the larynx, to be efficient for musical purposes, must be accompanied by a corresponding mastery of the art of breathing. is it necessary to point out that such wonderful development and control can only be attained after years of steady work by the best methods? at one period in the life of the individual changes of such importance take place in the entire nature, physical, mental, and moral, that he becomes almost a new being. this epoch is known as the period of puberty or adolescence, and may be considered that of the gravest moment during one's whole life; for then, for better or worse, great changes inevitably occur. it is incomparably the period of greatest development, and, unfortunately, there may also spring into being, with striking suddenness, physical and psychic traits which cause the greatest anxiety. in any case, the thoughtful must then regard the youth or maiden with feelings of the deepest interest, if not anxiety; and in the case of the voice-user, especially the singer, this period may come laden with the destinies of the future. the vocal organs, especially in males, undergo very marked changes in relative proportions and actual growth. so marked is this that the boy soprano may actually become a barytone, or, unfortunately, no longer have a singing voice at all. [illustration: fig. (grünwald). if this be compared with the next illustration (fig. ), some of the differences between the larynx of the male and that of the female may be noted. the vocal bands in fig. , being those of a male, are heavier and wider. they are more covered by the epiglottis than in the other case--that of a female (fig. ). the false vocal bands are well seen in both cases, and by their redness (dark in the figures) contrast with the whiteness of the true vocal bands. in both illustrations the bands are in the inspiration position.] [illustration: fig. (grünwald). laryngoscopic picture of the female larynx--to be contrasted with that of a male, shown in fig. .] [illustration: fig. (grünwald). in this case, owing to the subject having a cold, it is with difficulty that the true can be distinguished from the false vocal bands, so reddened (dark, in the figure) were the former, with corresponding changes in the character of the voice. this view was obtained as the subject was phonating, so that the vocal bands are approximated somewhat closely.] [illustration: fig. (grünwald). shows the larynx as it may be seen only by the use of the laryngoscope. the above is an example of the appearance of the vocal bands during a deep inspiration, and in this subject, as in those illustrated by figs. , , the circumstances were so favorable that the observer could see even the trachea, the rings of which are indicated in the picture. the reader will bear in mind that in this and all laryngoscopic pictures, while right remains right, front becomes back, and back front, so that the back of the larynx appears toward the observer--_i.e._, is lowest on the page.] so far as the larynx is concerned the changes are less pronounced, usually, in the girl; nevertheless, the period is one of such change for the female that the greatest care should be exercised at this time, especially in the case of city girls. the body requires all its available resources for the growth and development which is so characteristic of this biological and psychological epoch; hence it may be ruinous for the future of the girl if at this time the same strain is put upon her as on the adult, whether in the direction of study, physical exertion, or social excitement, and of course the voice must suffer with all the rest. the farmer who would attempt to work the colt of a year or two old as he does the horse of four or five would be regarded as either grossly ignorant of his business or utterly reckless as to his own interests, if not positively cruel. do our modern usages not show a neglect of facts of vital moment still more marked? unfortunately, the woman all her life must live, to a greater or less extent, on a sort of periodic up-curve or down-curve of vitality; and that this fact is so generally ignored by society and educators is one of those peculiarities of our age at which, in spite of its great advancement in so many directions, a future generation must wonder. to use the voice when the health is even slightly disordered is not without risk to the vocal organs, and it is the clear duty of every teacher of vocal culture, at all events, to allow no practice and to give no lessons that imply the actual use of the vocal organs at these times. nor is this a great loss, rightly considered, for the intellectual side of the subject, which requires so much attention, may readily be made to take the place of the vocal for a few days. the so-called "breaking" of the voice is largely confined to males, because the growth changes, etc., as already said, are most marked in boys. at this time, also, there is frequently an excess of blood supplied to the larynx, with possibly some degree of stagnation or congestion, which results in a thickening of the vocal bands, unequal action of muscles, etc., which must involve imperfections in the voice. in all such cases common sense and physiology alike plainly indicate that rest is desirable. all shouting, singing, etc., should be refrained from, and even ordinary speech, as much as possible, in very marked cases, especially when the individual is even slightly indisposed or weary. in other cases the changes are so gradual and so little marked that it is not at all necessary to discontinue vocal practice, if carried out with care and under the guidance of an intelligent friend or teacher; but because of the possibility of the voice changing in quality, there is no time when the advice of an experienced and enlightened teacher or laryngologist is more necessary. the condition present in the vocal bands and larynx generally of the boy at puberty is more or less akin to that found in fatigue, ill-health, hoarseness, etc., as well as in old age, when muscular action is very uncertain, so that in the weak larynx, as elsewhere, the old man may approach the undeveloped youth, and for much the same reason--lack of co-ordinated or harmonious control of parts. these remarks imply, of course, that the youth has already begun studies in voice-production, and that raises another important question, viz.: when should the individual who is sufficiently endowed musically begin to sing, or study public utterance practically in some of its forms? no faculty develops earlier than the musical, and this is a strong argument in itself for the early study of music, apart altogether from other considerations about which there is room for more difference of opinion. should the child get his musical development through the use of his own musical instrument or another? if he shows natural ability for the use of the voice, should he be trained very early? against early training may be urged the facts above referred to--the liability of great changes taking place in the larynx at puberty, especially in the boy. but marked are the changes that take place in other parts of the body also, and this is not urged against exercises for general development, for the boy. it is a remarkable fact that many of the great composers sang as boys, and possibly this has had something to do with their writing music for the voice, later, when they were most of them by no means fine singers; but on this too much stress should not be laid. the question at issue is to be sharply marked off from another--the public appearance of children as soloists, reciters, etc. in this case the question is more complicated, and cannot be settled by physiological considerations alone. our problem is also to be kept apart from another very important question--the singing of children, or, indeed, adults, in classes, choirs, etc. if a child shows himself a desire to sing, and especially if he has musical ability above the average and a voice that is of fair range and quality, one can scarcely see why he should not be encouraged, and placed under a wise teacher; for it is doubtful if there be any better way of developing the ear and musical nature, even if in future the child shows that he will accomplish more as an instrumentalist. such vocal training tends to development of the larynx, and that can scarcely be wholly lost, no matter what changes puberty may bring about. at the same time, one must take care not to be too hopeful in regard to child singers. nature gives us some surprises, and not always pleasant ones. but as to the cultivation of the vocal organs with the view of producing a beautiful speaking voice by processes akin to those used for the singer, as the teaching of this work constantly implies, there can be no doubt. unless the individual acquires a respect for the beautiful in the speaking voice when young, it is feared he may never get it, as the existing state of things only too clearly shows. it is hoped that enough has been said on this subject to indicate the principles, at all events so far as physiology is concerned, on which the decisions regarding some weighty questions must be made. the question of singing with others, as usually carried out in schools, seems to the author a very doubtful procedure, to say the least, as for those with fine throats it may prove injurious, and for those who have feeble musical endowments it does little; but of this subject and concerted singing generally again. chapter viii. further consideration of breathing, laryngeal adjustment, etc. experience proves that breathing, for the speaker and singer, is one of those subjects that may be very inadequately comprehended by the student, and, the author regrets to say, may be positively misrepresented by teachers and writers. some--indeed, a great many--teachers direct their students to employ "abdominal" or "diaphragmatic" breathing, others "clavicular" respiration. a little consideration must convince those who have read the chapters on breathing that such distinctions, in which one part of an entire process is treated as if it were the whole, cannot be justified. by "clavicular" breathing some mean upper chest breathing, and others a form of respiration in which the shoulders (clavicles, or key-bones) are raised with inspiration in an objectionable manner. the latter is, of course, to be condemned; yet, very exceptionally, a tenor of excellent training may feel that he can, under the circumstances of the hour, reach a certain tone very high in his range only by the utmost exertion. we all know how a singer's reputation may be more or less ruined should he fail to reach such a high note--one, indeed, by which he may, owing to the vitiated taste of the public, have acquired a reputation beyond his artistic merits. under these circumstances such a singer might be justified in a momentary use of every resource of what physiologists term _forced respiration_, including clavicular breathing; but in general any raising of the shoulders should be absolutely avoided. when "clavicular" breathing is used in the sense of upper chest breathing, it is correct as far as it goes, but the term is not a happy one to employ in this sense, and it has led to error in theory and practice. in the same way, "diaphragmatic" breathing is perfectly correct, but its exclusive use cannot be justified, for nature teaches us otherwise. it is true that the lower part of the chest, which always should expand with the descent of the diaphragm, is wider than the upper; it is true that by a very well-developed diaphragmatic breathing a singer or speaker is fairly well provided with breath power; but why teach this method exclusively, when thereby the voice-user is being robbed of possibly from one quarter to one third of his total breathing efficiency? it is likely that teachers have insisted on diaphragmatic breathing, especially in the case of females, because, unfortunately, prevalent modes of dress so restrict the lower chest, etc., that individuals instinctively seek relief in upper chest or clavicular breathing, in which case it may be observed that the actual breath power of the singer is very small. it cannot be denied that few people ever adequately fill the chest--least of all, few women--and if admonitions as to diaphragmatic breathing accomplish this purpose, the practice must be commended. but another remedy should obviously precede this one: the respiratory prisoner should first be released. no doubt, in the most vigorous singing and speaking the lower part of the chest, with the diaphragm, is of the greatest importance, but often both the speaker and the singer, as in a short, rapid passage, require to take breath, and the only way in which they can really meet the case is by a short, more or less superficial action of the respiratory apparatus, in which the upper chest must play the chief part. there is no opportunity to fill the whole chest, so that any admonition in regard to abdominal breathing is then quite out of place. the fact is, the voice-user should have control of his whole breathing mechanism, and use one part more or less than another, or all parts equally and to the fullest extent, as the circumstances require; and if the student has not already learned such control, the author recommends his practising breathing with special attention first to filling the upper chest completely, and then the lower. it must be remembered that for a long time breathing, for the voice-user, must be a voluntary process, which, as has been pointed out, is not the usual and natural one for the individual when not phonating, which latter is essentially reflex or involuntary. the voice-user, in other words, must, with a definite purpose in view, take charge of himself. in time, breathing for him too will become reflex--_i.e._, correct breathing for the purposes of his art will become a habit. it must be pointed out that the breathing for any particular composition, literary or musical, should be carefully studied out, for this is nothing else than determining how this part of the voice-user's mechanism can be employed with the best artistic result. this, fortunately, is now recognized by a large number of teachers, for the fact is, the artistic is at present much better understood and appreciated than the technical; were it not so, such erratic literature on the subject of breathing could never have appeared. on another aspect of the subject there is room for much greater difference of opinion. among even eminent singers and teachers there is lack of agreement in regard to the part the diaphragm and abdomen should play in the most vigorous (_fortissimo_) singing. singers of renown practise what may be termed a sort of "forced" abdominal or diaphragmatic breathing. the breath is so taken that the whole chest is filled, the diaphragm brought well down, and the abdominal walls drawn in (retracted), which gives the singer, in all parts above and below, a bellows with tense walls in all parts, with the great advantage that such breathing permits of a firmness otherwise unattainable, and he is enabled to exert his breath force with great certainty and power, and, as some maintain, with all the control necessary for even delicate effects. [illustration: fig. . intended to express to the eye the two views of respiration discussed in the body of the work (p. - ). the dotted lines indicate the form of the chest and abdomen advocated by some as the best for the singing or speaking of long and vigorous passages.] against this it has been urged that it is unnatural, not according to what is found in man and other animals in nature. it is perhaps forgotten that when we make a great effort, as in lifting, we put the breathing apparatus into just this state; we gird up our loins--or the equivalent of that process--so that this method cannot be said to be contrary to nature. the only question seems to be as to whether it is necessary and advantageous, or wasteful of energy. for ordinary efforts it does not seem to be necessary, though the chest must in singing and speaking always be _held_ more or less full, not by any deliberate and painful effort, but in a quiet, unobtrusive way. the diagram (fig. ) will make the difference in the theories referred to clear. up to the present the student has been urged to fill his chest, after days of less vigorous practice, to the fullest, retain the mechanism in this condition for a short time, and then in the slowest and most regular fashion relax it, the purpose being development and control. in actual speaking and singing such breathing is not usually either possible or desirable. nature herself always works with the least possible expenditure of energy and with power in reserve. these must be the voice-user's principles, to be deliberately and persistently applied. to fill the chest to the fullest on all occasions is to use up energy to no purpose and to induce fatigue. art is ever economical. effort, obvious effort, detracts from the listener's enjoyment. ease in the executant corresponds with enjoyment in the listener, or, at all events, if nothing more, it puts him in such a frame of mind, that the more positive qualities of the performance find him in an undisturbed, receptive state. the singer or speaker must breathe easily and adequately, but not so as to waste his energies. prior to the execution of his task, he should consider what respiratory efficiency calls for in the case of any particular phrase, and meet this without waste--_i.e._, fully, but with something to spare. for the best art, as well as the soundest technique, there should always be in the executant enough and to spare. let the last word be so uttered or sung that the listener may feel, however vigorous the passage, that more could have been done had it been required; in other words, _speak or sing the last word feeling that several others might follow did one so choose_. when this principle of reserve force is not observed, the voice-user may distress himself or his audience in a variety of ways, among others by a bad habit known as "pumping"--_i.e._, endeavoring to produce sound when the breath power is really spent. it is only necessary to refer to it for a moment that its unwisdom and physiological unrighteousness may be apparent. another term, _coup de glotte_ (blow or shock of the glottis), has led to so much confusion and misunderstanding, which unfortunately, has been followed by erroneous practice, that it would be well if its further employment were abandoned. breathing, so far as voice-production is concerned, is for the sole purpose of causing the vocal bands to vibrate; and at this stage we may say that the perfection of any vocal result depends wholly on the efficiency with which these vibrations are produced, so that breathing and tone are brought together, so to speak, by the mediation of these little bands, the vocal cords; and this is the justification for speaking of the larynx as _the_ vocal organ. this usage, however, is objectionable, as it tends to narrowness and to divert the mind from other highly important parts of the vocal mechanism. in one sense, the respiratory organs and the resonance-chambers are each as important as the larynx. the term _coup de glotte_ has been sometimes employed as the equivalent of "attack," and again as the synonym of nearly all that is bad in voice-production. as to this latter, all depends on the sense in which the term is employed. before the vocal bands can be set into suitable vibrations the expiratory breath-stream must be directed against them in a special manner, and they themselves must be adapted to the blast. it is a case of complex and beautiful adaptation. the clarinet or flute player must learn to "blow," and equally must the singer learn to use his breath. the processes each employs, though not identical, are closely related; both use the breath to cause vibrations, and there can be none that are effective, in either case, except a certain relation of adaptation of breath-stream to instrument be effected--with the clarinet-player, adjustment of breath to reed, and with the voice-user, of breath to vocal bands. exactly what changes are made in the larynx, and by what means, have already been described, and will be again considered in more than one part of this volume. the main fact is that owing to a multitude of neuro-muscular mechanisms the different parts of the respiratory and laryngeal apparatus are brought to work in harmony for the production of tones. the nature of the vibrations of the vocal bands, and, therefore, the character of the sounds produced, depend in no small measure on one thing, to which attention cannot be too carefully given. to a large extent the pitch, the volume, the quality, the carrying power, etc., of a tone depend on the adjustment now referred to--one of the facts which were, if not physiologically, at least practically recognized by the old italian masters. teachers everywhere felt the need of some technical term to express the adjustment we are considering, hence the expression _coup de glotte_, which is not in itself necessarily either incorrect or for other reason to be condemned. all depends on the sense in which it is used, as we have already said. it must, however, be admitted that it does; to most persons, convey the idea of something that is more or less violent as well as sudden, so that there seems to lurk in this term a tendency to mislead, to say the least. there really should never be a blow or shock of the glottis; the vocal bands should never strike together violently, or, indeed, strike together at all, in the ordinary sense of the term. they should, however, be approximated with considerable rapidity and with a perfect adjustment to the breath-stream, and this must be associated with a like perfect adaptation of the breath-stream to them through the harmonious working of the many muscles (neuro-muscular mechanisms) which constitute the most important part of the respiratory mechanism. in brief, the adjustment of the breathing and laryngeal mechanisms resulting in the adequate and suitable approximation of the vocal bands for tone-production constitutes the _coup de glotte_, or, as the author prefers to term it, the "attack." to get this perfect should be one of the aims of teachers and one of the ambitions of students. without a good attack the singer or speaker fails to do himself justice, and the listener is left unsatisfied. the good attack suggests physiological and technical perfection, so far as it goes; artistically, it implies power and sureness, and for the listener satisfaction, a feeling that what has been attempted has been accomplished; and the best of it is that the auditor at the end of a large hall experiences this sense of satisfaction quite as fully as the persons sitting in the first row of seats. without good attacks there can be no intellectual singing or speaking, no broad phrasing, and much more that all should aim at who come before the public, and which listeners have, indeed, a right to expect. but just because many persons feel this to be true, they make serious errors in attempting to attain the result; they substitute main force for the correct method. impatience and eagerness may defeat the voice-user's purpose. in this and all other cases the action should be performed with but moderate force, or even, at first, softly, and with gradual increase in vigor, and always in relation to the quality of the sound produced; quality must always be the first if not also the last consideration. if the method be correct, power can be attained with patience; if wrong, the throat and voice may be absolutely ruined. this point will be considered later, but we must at once express the opinion that a bungling attack in which main force is substituted for the proper method is one of the most dangerous, as it is one of the most serious errors in the technique of modern singing, and the same may often be charged against our public speaking. another of the worst faults of singing, the _tremolo_, is due to unsteadiness in attack and in maintaining the proper relations between the breathing and the laryngeal mechanism. if the voice-user fails to get a tone of good quality easily and without escape of breath to any appreciable extent, he must consider that his method is incorrect. there must be no wasted breath in the best vocal technique. this leads to ineffectiveness in the voice-producer and lack of satisfaction in the listener. breath must, for a perfect technique, mean tone--all tone--and this must be produced so that the singer is not aware, by any unpleasant feelings, that he has vocal bands or a larynx at all; in a perfect technique one must only be distinctly aware of certain sensations in the parts above the larynx, in his mouth cavity, etc. his consciousness is concerned with tone--the result. but, to attain this, the method must be physiological--_i.e._, natural, and not only that, but carried out with an approach to perfection in the details of the process which takes time and calls for infinite patience and care, all permeated by sound and clear ideas of what is being aimed at by the voice-user. nothing should be attempted till the method and the end are understood thoroughly; to do otherwise is to waste time, defeat the purpose, and court failure and disappointment; and the more the student can think for himself, and the less dependent he is on his teacher, the better will it be for both and for art itself. from all that has been hitherto said it will be inferred that one of the best tests of a good attack, or any other feature in voice-production, is the absence of escape of breath, as such, from the mouth. many persons begin wrongly; they attempt to produce tones by forcing the breath out in such a way that all their resources in breathing are at once spent, instead of being husbanded with the care of a miser. as time is the most precious possession of man, as man, so is breath for the singer or speaker. it is his hoard. nothing must be paid out of this always limited capital for which the best value is not obtained. the test for perfect economy of breath known to older generations of actors still remains the best. they were accustomed to hold a candle a few inches from the mouth when speaking. if the flame did not flicker, it was clear that breath was not being uselessly expelled. instead of feeling that the breath passes out, the voice-producer should rather feel, when phonating, as if it passed in--an illusion, it is true, but still a safe one. it will be found that holding a mirror or the hand with the back turned toward the mouth, and a few inches (four to six) from it, will serve fairly well to indicate whether the breath is escaping or not, though in sensitiveness and convincing power this is not equal to the flame test. we would again urge that in every instance of phonation in either speaker or singer, the breath be taken through the open mouth. only in this way can enough breath be inhaled in the mere moment available for this purpose. often the singer or actor must take breath with absolutely the greatest rapidity possible, and the narrow passages of the nose do not suffice to admit enough air within the time for action. but even more important, perhaps, is the fact that when breath is taken through the nostrils the singer may find that on opening his mouth to sing the tongue and soft palate are in an unfavorable position for good tone-production; his sounds may be muffled, throaty; but if breath be inhaled through the open mouth, and not through the nose at all, the tongue tends to lie flat, and this organ and other parts assume the correct position for good intonation. mouth breathing, for the purposes of tone-production, is the only method which has physiological justification. many singers especially complain of having trouble with the tongue; some believe it too large, others that it is beyond their control. these so-called large tongues have one advantage--they may exercise a great influence on the quality of the tone; and correct breathing brings them to good behavior. the author has time and again, by explaining the influence of mouth respiration, brought sudden joy to the heart of the singer who had been all his life troubled with the tongue, and worried by the consciousness that his tones lacked in clearness, carrying power, etc. nose breathing is of course to be used exclusively when the subject is not phonating. during the latter many opportunities occur to close the mouth; and the idea that drying of the mucous membrane of the mouth, etc., will occur by reason of mouth breathing in speaking and singing is purely imaginary. exercises. the student, whatever his degree of advancement, will find the exercises about to be recommended, or others closely resembling them, of great value. it cannot be too well borne in mind, obvious though it is, that all speaking and singing, whatever else they be, are tone-production; hence the first thing for every one to ascertain regarding himself is the extent to which he can form and hold tones of good quality--in other words, the success with which he can establish the essential co-ordinations or harmonious actions of the breathing and laryngeal mechanisms, and maintain them for a considerable length of time. many singers can produce a fairly good and powerful tone, but it is a sort of vocal explosion rather than a tone, which will continue to do the singer's bidding for as long as he will. the correctly produced and sustained tone is the foundation of all that is best in voice-production; all the rest is but a series of variations on this. hence the author recommends the following practice to all, whatever else they may do or have done. it is to be a test of inspiration, attack, economy of breath, adjustment of the vocal bands, the resonance-chambers, etc. . inhale slowly through the somewhat open mouth, filling the chest moderately full, and at once attack so as to produce a tone of but moderate force, but of the best quality possible. . continue to hold this tone as long as the breath is easily sufficient, taking care that the tone be on no account sustained after there is the slightest difficulty in maintaining it of the same quality and power as before. steadiness and perfection in quality are to be the chief considerations. . the student is advised, after a few days' practice in this manner, to note with a watch the time during which he can hold a tone under the restrictions above referred to, and to endeavor to increase the holding power daily by a little. it will, of course, be necessary to fill the chest more completely day by day. . it will also be well for the voice-producer to practise taking very deep and rapid inspirations, followed by the most prolonged expirations. . this method of breathing may then be put to the actual test in intonation. another exercise very valuable in giving breath-control is the following: produce a tone exactly as before, but every now and then, at regular intervals at first, then at irregular ones, cut the tone off short by suddenly arresting the breath, and, after a very short pause, continue again in exactly the same way _without_ taking a fresh breath; and, as in the above and all other exercises, frequently apply the hand and, when more practised, the more exacting flame test. the first of the above exercises may be represented to the eye by a continuous straight line; the second by straight lines with short spaces between them. in all these exercises there must never be any sort of _push_ anywhere, neither in the chest nor throat. such methods are absolutely wrong, because so wasteful of energy. the tone should come as spontaneously and inevitably as the gas from a soda-water bottle when the cork is slightly loosened, or, if this illustration be too strong (it is employed because gas, air, is concerned in each case), let us say, as water from the pipe of a waterworks' system when the tap is turned. _the tone should come, the breath must tarry._ if the student does not feel ease, certainty, and inevitableness in result, he has not made a good attack. if he cannot sustain the tone for a few seconds, he should conclude that his method of using his breath is wasteful. in time a tone should be easily held for at least ten seconds. the purpose of the second exercise is to give still more fully breath-control, and to lead the voice-user to realize how important is breathing for intonation. the student may ask: "why not begin, as is often done, by the singing of scales?" really useful scales are too complex; they imply the use of a series of tones formed according to the principles insisted upon above. the first thing is to get one perfect tone--to use the vocal mechanism under simple conditions; and _that tone should be chosen which the voice-user can produce of best quality and with greatest ease, with least expenditure of energy_. it should never be selected from the extremes of the subject's range. from the favorite or best tone he should work down and up the scale. after this the scale comes easy, and all actual singing is scale singing--the use of intervals--and all speaking the same thing; so that, from every point of view, this exercise should be the first in intonation, and the student will do well not to leave it till the conditions above prescribed can be fully met. some singers have continued such exercises throughout a long artistic career. it is to be understood always that the exercises, etc., recommended in this work are intended for all voice-users, whether they are singers or speakers. it is easy for a speaker to pass from such prolonged tones to the shorter ones required in speaking, but after such exercises he can do so with a feeling of ease, mastery of himself, improved ear, and purity of speech not otherwise attainable. the author would also insist, in the most emphatic manner, on the great importance of making all such exercises musical. every tone should be the best then possible to the voice-user, and power must on no account be aimed at for some time. thus are developed and go hand in hand, as they always should, a sound technique with the artistic conscience and perceptions. summary and review. _the principles of physics, etc., involved._ sound (tone) is a mental result having its origin in certain changes in the ear and the brain, owing to vibrations of the air. tones have _pitch_, depending on the number of vibrations in a second, _volume_ (power), depending on the size of the waves or vibrations, and _quality_ (_timbre_), determined by the shape of the waves. pitch is determined by the vocal bands, volume by the same, in great part, and quality by the shape of the resonance-chambers above the vocal bands. the resonance-chambers influence volume also. a tone is augmented by resonance. the larynx bears certain resemblances to both stringed and wind instruments, but it is really unique (_sui generis_). the vibrations of the vocal bands are caused solely by the expiratory current of air, which is more or less held back by the cords, owing to their approximation, so that the greater the obstruction the stronger must the blast of air be, other things being equal, and the result increase in pitch. the problem nature had to solve is very complex. the laryngoscope was invented in by a teacher of singing, manuel garcia, who soon after gave an account of it to the royal society of england. the instrument consists essentially of two mirrors, the external, or "head-mirror," which is concave and reflects into the larynx, and the internal, or "mouth-mirror," which reflects the picture outward to the eye. the latter mirror is plane, and set at an angle. the picture may show, under the most favorable circumstances, all the upper parts of the larynx, including the vocal bands, but sometimes, also, the windpipe as far down as its division into the two main bronchial tubes. the difficulties commonly met with in the use of the instrument are a constrained action of the throat and mouth parts of the subject, unnatural breathing, an unruly tongue, etc. the epiglottis may, also, naturally so overhang the glottis that a good view of the vocal cords is impossible. it is difficult to see more than one-half to two-thirds of the length of the vocal bands. the picture seen is that of the parts of the larynx reversed--_i.e._, while right remains right, posterior becomes anterior. the laryngoscope shows that ( ) in singing an ascending scale the vocal bands are for a certain time in action (vibration) throughout their whole length; that ( ) there may be observed a rather sudden change when the vocal bands are relaxed and shortened, and that this process of shortening goes on, the bands approaching more and more, both behind and in front, till ( ) in the highest tones of a soprano of great range there is only a small portion of each vocal cord toward the centre that is not approximated somewhat closely. with certain qualifications, it may be said that the action of the vocal bands is alike for all voices. in all cases a certain degree of approximation of the vocal bands is absolutely necessary for phonation, and the mechanism is generally similar in males and females till the highest tones, above alluded to, are reached. this is in harmony with the following facts: ( ) the crico-thyroids are the muscles most in use in ordinary speech and in singing the lower tones. ( ) several muscles combine in relaxing and shortening the vocal bands. ( ) the peculiar mechanism of the highest tones in a soprano voice of great compass is only to be explained by a combined action of several muscles, and a very delicate and precise use of the internal thyro-arytenoids attached along the whole length of the outer surface of the vocal bands. the larynx of the male differs from that of the female chiefly in its greater size, weight, etc. the vocal bands in the male may measure from three-fifths to four-fifths of an inch when relaxed, and from four-fifths to one inch when tense; in the female, from two-fifths to three-fifths of an inch when relaxed, and from three-fifths to four-fifths of an inch when tense. there are structural differences corresponding to and determining the kind of voice, as to range and power more especially. the bass singer has, as a rule, the largest larynx and the longest and heaviest vocal bands. at puberty the changes that take place in the body generally are associated with corresponding alterations in the larynx. the larynx grows, changes its proportions, etc., often somewhat rapidly, and the result may be a corresponding alteration in voice, as regards range, power, and quality. the voice, because of imperfect anatomical and physiological adjustment, may "break," to a greater or less extent. the same may take place, owing to similar imperfect adjustment, in old age, and temporarily, owing to disease, weakness, nervousness, fatigue, faulty production, etc. these facts indicate that under such circumstances the voice should be used with great care, not at all, or in a whisper, when the vocal bands are practically not in action. [illustration: fig. . represents what the author has frequently seen, by the use of the laryngoscope, when a soprano is producing a very high head-tone, say c, d, or e in alt. it will be observed that the vocal bands approximate in front and behind ("stopped"), so that the only parts of the bands capable of vibration are those short portions which form the margins of the oval opening shown in the illustration. only a very limited number of singers are capable of the delicate adjustments required.] in a singer highly endowed by nature and perfected by long training based on the soundest principles, the action of the muscles of the larynx may reach a degree of perfection only to be compared with that of the eye and ear. consideration of the _coup de glotte_, the attack, or adjustment of mechanisms to produce tone that begins correctly; breathing, with open mouth, with effectiveness and economy of energy; singing for children, in choirs, etc., have been discussed. practical exercises should be related to the principles underlying them. musical and æsthetic principles are always to be associated with a sound technique. the artistic and technical or physiological conscience should be associated. chapter ix. the resonance-chambers. when it is borne in mind that the vocal bands have little or nothing to do with the quality of tones, the importance of those parts of the vocal apparatus which determine quality, and the error of speaking of the larynx as if it alone were the sole vocal organ, become apparent. it may be strictly said that the vocal bands serve the purpose of making the resonance mechanism available. what one hears may be said to be vibrations of this resonance apparatus, and not, strictly, those of the vocal bands, though this expression would also be correct, but would not indicate the final link in the series of vibrations. the tone caused by the vibration of two such small bands as the vocal cords must, in the nature of the case, be very feeble. it becomes important for the reader to convince himself of the importance of resonance in sounding bodies and musical instruments. when the stem of a tuning-fork so small that it can be scarcely heard when in vibration, except by, the person holding it, is laid against a solid body, as a table, its sound is at once so increased that it can be heard in the most distant part of a large room. when the same fork is held over an empty jar of suitable size and shape, a similar but much, less marked increase of its tone is to be observed. if a cord of but moderate thickness be fastened at each end to a thin piece of wood, say a split shingle, and a little block of wood, in imitation of the bridge of a violin, be placed under the cord so as to render it tense, we have the essentials of a stringed instrument, the pitch of which can be made to vary by moving the block about and thus varying the tightness of the cord. but the sound of such an improvised instrument, produced by drawing a bow across the cord, is ridiculously feeble. in the actual violin the volume of sound, as well as its quality, depends on the size, shape, and weight of the instrument. the strings serve the purpose of causing the body of the instrument, the air within it, and, in consequence, the air without, between it and the ear of the auditor, to vibrate or move in a specific manner. similarly, the imposing size of the grand piano is associated inevitably with loudness, as compared with a smaller instrument. a violoncello must produce a larger tone than a violin, though not necessarily one more intense. these principles of resonance apply in the case of the singer and the speaker. the bass and barytone produce tones of larger volume (as well as different quality) than those of the tenor, because their resonance apparatus is different in size and shape. it is true, their vocal bands, their wind-power, and the laryngeal muscles are different--they are not of the same size, etc.--and, in a more remote sense, this is the cause of the differences in the tones they produce; but the immediate cause is to be sought in the resonance mechanism, and, above all, in the resonance-chambers. it is true that when one speaks or sings, the chest, windpipe, and larynx may be felt to vibrate, but the essential vibrations are _supra-glottic_--above the vocal bands. these resonance-chambers are the _mouth cavity_, in the widest sense, and the _nasal chambers_. it is highly probable that the vibrations of the chest walls and of the bones of the head may to some degree modify the vibrations of the air within the resonance-chambers, chiefly in the direction of intensification; but the idea that the hollow spaces in certain of the bones of the head have any appreciable influence on the tones of the speaker or singer, can at best not be considered as demonstrated, and it serves no practical purpose to take into account this possibility. the great facts, the facts which are so plain that they may be demonstrated to a child, are these: that the quality of any tone--_e.g._, a vowel--is absolutely determined by the shape of these cavities, the mouth and nasal chambers. this subject will be treated further when the tones, etc., of speech are considered, but inasmuch as no one can sing, in the proper sense of the term, without the use of vowels, at least, and as we produce different vowels with ease, one may at once demonstrate to himself that this is done by altering the shape of his mouth cavity, and chiefly by the agency of the tongue and soft palate. [illustration: fig. (tyndall). representing water being poured into the vessel a b, till the air-space is just sufficient to respond to the vibrations of the tuning-fork. the air thus becomes a resonator of the fork.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). the mouth is extremely widely opened. the soft palate is seen terminating in the uvula, and on each side, extending from it, are the pillars of the fauces, a pair of folds between which the tonsil is seen to lie.] [illustration: fig. . view of the nose, etc., from behind, showing the parts enumerated above. it is not hard to understand that any considerable amount of swelling of the lining mucous membrane might give rise to difficulty in breathing through the nose, and even compel mouth-breathing.] [illustration: fig. (spalteholz). showing well the scroll (turbinated) bones of the nose, which break up the space and make it more cavernous. it can be seen that there is free communication behind, between the mouth and the nasal cavities, and that if the soft palate and the tongue approximate, the breath-stream must pass into and through the nose, giving rise to nasality in utterance.] a short description of a part to which many voice-users remain strangers all their lives will now be given. these resonance-chambers remain, for many, an apparatus used daily and absolutely essential, yet never examined. fortunately, a few illustrations, which should be followed by an examination of the student's own resonance-chambers and their various parts as they may be seen in a mirror, will remove all difficulty in the understanding of them, and prepare for that detailed study to be recommended in a subsequent chapter. passing from before backward, one meets the _lips_, the _teeth_ and _gums_, the _hard palate_, which is a continuation of the gums; then, suspended from the hard palate, behind, is the _soft palate_, back of which lies the _pharynx_ (often termed "the throat"), and above it and constituting its continuation, the _naso-pharynx_; and lying on the floor of the mouth there is the _tongue_. certain of these parts, as the teeth, gums, hard palate, nasal bones, etc., constitute fixed structures, and though they determine in no small measure the shape of the resonance-chambers, and so to a degree the quality of the voice, so movable are the lips, soft palate, and, above all, the tongue, that there is the widest scope for varying the quality and even the volume of the voice; so that it is a good thing, practically, for every one to believe that so far as quality, at all events, is concerned, he is the master of his own destinies. though we are accustomed to believe that the mouth and nose are, though neighbors, quite separate and independent of each other, such is not the case. indeed, in the pre-natal condition these are not two, but one; and in some instances they remain imperfectly separated, owing to the failure of the hard palate to develop to the full--a condition known as "cleft palate," and giving rise to a peculiar nasal intonation, to be explained presently. the _nasal chambers_ are divided into two by a vertical partition, as one can readily demonstrate by the use of his fingers, and are still further broken up by certain bones, the scroll-shaped or _turbinated_ bones, so that the nasal chambers are of very limited size, and much divided up by bony outgrowths from their walls. the _vertical septum_, while bony above, is cartilaginous and flexible below. without the aid of instruments and a good light the nose can be but indifferently examined from the front, while it requires the greatest skill on the part of a laryngologist to see it well from behind. however, the whole difficulty can be got over by visiting a butcher and securing a sheep's head split through from before back. in a few moments one can learn all the essential facts, including that one of great practical importance--viz.: that every part of the resonance-chambers is lined by the same mucous membrane which is also continued downward into the larynx and the gullet. it will be thus observed that the throat and nose communicate in the freest manner behind, and that the only way of closing off the mouth cavity from the nasal chambers is by means of the tongue and the soft palate working together. as in the proper use of the tongue and soft palate lie many of the secrets of the art of the speaker and singer, special attention must be given to these parts. the _tongue_, which completely fills the floor of the mouth, is made up of several muscles of different attachments, which explains why this organ is so movable. to say that it can with the greatest ease and rapidity be turned toward every one of the thirty-two points marked on a mariner's compass, is but to feebly express its capacity for movements. what we are most concerned with now is its power to alter the shape of the mouth cavity in every part. the _soft palate_ is suspended like a curtain from the hard palate, behind. it is composed of muscles arranged in pairs, and is continued into a conical tip below known as the _uvula_, and on each side into folds, the _pillars of the fauces_, between which lie the _tonsils_, which are in shape like very small almond nuts. when quite normal these should not protrude much, if at all, beyond the cavity made by the folds referred to above. both the tonsils and the uvula may become so enlarged as to be a source of awkwardness or more serious evil to the voice-user. they may, in fact, require operative interference. so serious, however, is the decision to operate, or the reverse, for the voice-user, that the author recommends that such operations be entrusted only to laryngologists who have some knowledge of their influence on voice-production. it is of the greatest moment to observe that the quality of tones can be made to vary in the highest degree by the joint use of the tongue and soft palate. when in vocalizing the tongue is raised behind and the soft palate made to approach it, or actually to meet it, the tone assumes a more or less nasal character. the reason of this is that the cavity of the mouth proper, or "mouth" in the narrower sense, the forward part, is shut off from the hinder part, or the pharynx, so that the breath is then directed upward and passes chiefly through the nose, producing a nasal tone or twang--always a fault, and one fearfully common in america. when the tongue alone is raised behind, or drawn back unduly, tones become muffled--indistinct, etc. this is also a very common fault, but is found in england and germany also. english speech is often hard and guttural, german unduly guttural, if not so hard, and american slovenly and horribly nasal. but what may in a certain degree be disagreeable and a vocal error, is in another a positive excellence; so, in this case, the use of the tongue and soft palate in the proper degree and at the right moment gives us emotional expression. this subject will, however, be considered again later; in the meantime, the student is advised to do a little experimenting in the use of his tongue and soft palate, with a view of noting how the quality of tone may be thus made to vary. he is also advised to use a hand-glass with the object of observing the parts mentioned in this chapter, and if he can also find a friend willing to lend his mouth for observation, so much the better. the sooner any voice-user comes to feel that his vocal destinies lie in his own hands, the better. "know thyself" is as necessary an admonition for the speaker and singer as for any other artist, but with that must go another, "believe in thyself"--that thou canst produce tones of beautiful and expressive quality if thou wilt; it may be only after much wisely directed work, but yet it is possible. allusion must be made to the danger of those engaged in mathematical and physical investigations applying their conclusions in too rigid a manner to the animal body. it was held till recently that the pitch of a vocal tone was determined solely by the number of vibrations of the vocal bands, as if they acted like the strings of a violin or the reed of a clarinet, while the resonance-chambers were thought to simply take up these vibrations and determine nothing but the quality of tone; they were believed not to have any influence on pitch. against this view the author long ago demurred. to prof. scripture, however, belongs the credit of demonstrating that the resonance-chambers determine pitch also. it seems probable that the vocal bands so beat the air within the resonance-chambers as to determine the rate of vibration of the air of these cavities, and so the pitch of the tone produced. these chambers not having rigid walls, one can the better understand that the tension of these parts may not only be different in individuals, but vary in the same person from time to time, according to the condition of his health, etc. herein we find another source of explanation of variations in the voice. all these considerations make the resonance-chambers more important than ever, so that there is greater objection to speaking of the larynx as _the_ vocal organ than we were aware of before these investigations were undertaken. summary. without a resonator, which may be solid or hollow, the sound made by a reed or tense string is feeble. that the mouth can act as a resonator may be proved by holding a vibrating tuning-fork of suitable pitch before this chamber when open. the resonating chambers of importance are supra-glottic. of these the "mouth" including all as far back as the pharynx and the nasal chambers are the principal. these two main cavities are separated from each other by the hard palate, which is a bony floor, covered with mucous membrane, as are all the parts of the resonance-chambers. the hard palate extends horizontally from the gums backward, and is continued as the soft palate. the latter is a muscular and therefore movable curtain that divides, with varying degrees of completeness, the mouth (in the narrower sense) from the pharynx and naso-pharynx--_i.e._, the space back of the soft palate and the posterior nares (back nostrils) respectively. by the elevation of the back of the tongue and the lowering of the soft palate as when one speaks nasally, the mouth proper is largely shut off from the nasal chambers, so that the breath must be directed through the nose. "cleft palate" also connects undesirably the mouth and nasal chambers. the tonsils lie between two folds, the pillars of the fauces, connected with the soft palate. when normal in size the tonsils should scarcely extend beyond these folds. the uvula is the central lower tip of the soft palate. the nasal chambers are divided by a central bony and cartilaginous partition, the septum nasi, but are further encroached upon, on each side, by three scroll-like (turbinated) bones. the tongue is composed of several muscles, which explains why its movements may be so complicated and delicate. the mouth cavity is bounded in front by the gums, teeth, and lips. the form and, to some extent, possibly; the size of the resonance-chambers determine the quality of the tone produced in speaking and singing. the shape and size of the mouth can be made to vary by the soft palate and lips, but chiefly by the tongue, so that the movements of the latter, especially, cannot be too well studied. it was formerly considered that pitch was determined solely by the rate of vibration of the vocal bands; though the author opposed this view as rigidly applied. very recently prof. scripture, by the use of new methods, has shown that the supra-glottic chambers cannot be correctly likened to a resonator with rigid walls. it is held that the vocal bands give a number of sudden shocks to the air in the resonators, so that, in a sense, the resonance-chambers determine both the pitch and the quality of the tone; and as the tension of the resonators varies with both the physical and psychical condition of the individual, variations in tone-production, more especially as to quality, can now be the better understood. according to this view these chambers are not properly resonators but sounding cavities. the reader's attention is particularly drawn to the new views of the method of action of the vocal bands, etc., referred to on this page. since the above was written, such views have become more widely known, and it is hoped that as they are very radical they may be established by other methods. chapter x. the registers of the singing voice.[ ] [footnote : the chapters on the registers of the singing voice may be omitted by readers whose practical interest is confined to the speaking voice.] about no subject in the whole range of voice-production has there been so much confusion, difference of opinion, and controversy as that of registers; so that it is important at the very outset to define register, and throughout to aim at the utmost precision and clearness. "a register is a series of consecutive and homogeneous sounds rising from the grave to the acute, produced by the development of the same mechanical principle, the nature of which essentially differs from any other series of sounds equally consecutive and homogeneous, produced by another mechanical principle" (manuel garcia). "a register consists of a series of tones which are produced by the same mechanism" (behnke). "a register is the series of tones of like quality producible by a particular adjustment of the vocal cords" (mackenzie). from a consideration of the above proposed definitions it will be seen that for the successful or, at all events, complete or ideal investigation of a subject so many-sided and difficult, many qualifications are desirable, if not absolutely essential. it is not too much to say that the ideal investigator of the registers should have a practical knowledge of general anatomy and physiology, together with a detailed and exact knowledge of the vocal organs; be versed in the laws of sound; have an adequate knowledge of music; be capable of examining himself with the laryngoscope (auto-laryngoscopy) as well as others (laryngoscopy); possess an acute ear for the pitch and quality of tones; be himself able to use his voice at least fairly well in singing and speaking; be provided with the all-important ballast of common sense, and an impartial mind longing above all things to learn the truth. as few can hope to unite all these qualities in themselves in even a moderate degree, openness of mind, temperance in the expression of opinion, and common sense with experience, must be largely relied on to furnish working conclusions. a discussion of a subject so difficult and complicated is not easy to follow. it is but just to other investigators, and fair to the reader, to present the views of those who have possessed special qualifications for dealing with the questions involved. the author will endeavor to present the grounds on which others have taken their stand, in a few words and clearly, if the reader will patiently follow. there will at first seem, possibly, to be little agreement, but it will be shown that on some of the most essential points there is substantial unity of opinion; and the subject is of such vital moment, as the author will endeavor to make clear, that it is hoped that the most patient examination will be given to the questions that arise, from the beginning to the end of the discussion. for the author to express a dogmatic opinion, and simply state his disagreement or agreement with others, would be contrary to the whole spirit of this work, and leave the subject where it once was--in the realm of hopeless disagreement and controversy. if the problem of the registers is to be solved to the satisfaction of the rational thinker, it must be by evidence, and not the mere opinions of any teacher or writer, however eminent. to lay this evidence before the reader is now the author's task. one of those most eminently equipped, by a great variety of qualities, for the investigation of this subject, or any other question of the voice, was madame seiler. whenever the author is obliged to differ from this really great investigator, he does so with the sense of the highest respect for her opinions generally, because she always sought for scientific grounds for such opinions. her views may be thus briefly presented: she recognized three registers, chest, falsetto, and head, with their subdivisions. ( ) the first chest register extends ( ) the whole glottis (vocal to [illustration: a b-flat] in men, bands) is moved in loose and to [illustration: c' c-sharp'] vibrations. in women. ( ) the second chest register extends ( ) the vocal ligaments (or to [illustration: f' f-sharp'] in both ligamentous glottis) alone sexes. are in action. ( ) the first falsetto extends in ( ) the edges alone of the females to [illustration: c'' c-sharp''] vocal bands vibrate, but the and in males to [illustration: e'' whole glottis is in action. e-flat'']. ( ) the second falsetto in the ( ) the edges only of the female extends to [illustration: vocal bands are used, and the f'' f-sharp''] and to [illustration: g''] vocal ligaments alone are in in women. action. [transcriber's note: so in original; "female" should probably be "male."] ( ) above this point head tones ( ) edges only of the vocal begin. bands in vibration; partial closure of the ligaments posteriorly (behind). it will be noted that madame seiler spoke of the vocal bands (cords) proper as the "ligamentous glottis," and included in the "glottis" the arytenoid cartilages themselves, or, at all events, that part of them, their lower anterior angles, known as the vocal processes (or extensions), to which the vocal bands proper are attached. the above tabular statement shows ( ) that madame seiler recognized five registers for both male and female voices; ( ) that she used the term "falsetto" in a sense different from its ordinary one. usually this term is not applied at all to the female voice, but only to that special modification of the male voice seldom employed now, and almost never except by tenors. with this writer, "falsetto" as applied to female voices replaces "middle," in the commoner usage. [illustration: fig. . tabular representation of madame seiler's division of the register.] garcia, also, recognized five registers. behnke, a teacher of singing, who practised laryngoscopy and auto-laryngoscopy in the investigation of the registers, used "lower thick," "upper thick," "lower thin," "upper thin," and "small," as answering to the "first chest," "second chest," etc., of madame seiler and others. nearly all writers have used the term "break" to indicate the point at which a new register begins. behnke held that the break between the thick and the thin register occurred in _both_ sexes at about [illustration: f' f-sharp']. the vocal bands in this part of the scale vibrate in their entire breadth, and the series of tones above the point just referred to is produced by a new mechanism, but one which is the same for all voices and both sexes--_i.e._, only the inner edges of the vocal bands vibrate. according to behnke, the male voice has but two registers, the thick and the thin, but the female voice three, the thick, the thin, and the small. these terms were not original with behnke, but had been used earlier by curwen. behnke was emphatic on one point, to which we would call special attention, in his own words: "if there is _straining_ anywhere, it is during the attempt to carry the mechanism of the upper thick beyond its natural limit." mackenzie (afterwards sir morell mackenzie) held that "it is certain that however over-refined musicians may multiply the 'registers' of the voice, physiologically there are but two--_i.e._, 'chest' and 'head,' the falsetto of the man answering to the head production of women." according to the same author, "the essential factor in chest production is the long reed, whilst the essential factor in head delivery is the short reed." the terms "long reed" and "short reed" were the equivalents of madame seiler's "glottis" and "ligamentous glottis" respectively. mackenzie held that the cartilaginous (inter-arytenoid) glottis is generally open in the lower and gently closed in the upper tones of the chest register, while a segment of the ligamentous glottis (vocal bands proper) is tightly closed in the head voice. as the result of the examination of persons gifted with fine voices, of whom were "trained" singers and "natural" singers, mackenzie formulated his conclusions as follows: . in tenor voices the whole glottis may be open to [illustration: g a b] and not unfrequently to [illustration: g']. beyond this point there is closure of the cartilaginous glottis. sometimes the whole glottis is open throughout. . in barytone voices the whole glottis is often open to [illustration: a b], and occasionally to [illustration: c']. beyond this point the cartilaginous glottis is closed, except in rare cases. . in bass voices the whole glottis is sometimes open to [illustration: g b]. beyond this point, except in a few instances, the cartilaginous glottis is gradually closed. . in sopranos and mezzo-sopranos the whole glottis is sometimes open to [illustration: f' g'], often to [illustration: c''], beyond which the cartilaginous glottis is usually closed. the glottis is sometimes closed throughout the scale, and in one case it was open throughout. . in contralto voices the whole of the glottis is often open to [illustration: f' g'], beyond which the cartilaginous portion is closed. . in the head voice of women and the falsetto voice of men "stop-closure" (_i.e._, closure so tight that the cords in this region do not vibrate) always takes place in the posterior portion of the ligamentous glottis, and sometimes at the anterior part also. this writer also held that "boys who sing alto always use the chest register." he was of opinion that "the quality of the voice generally, but not always, indicates which mechanism is being used." the views of the author, published at a former period, and based on the special examination of a large number of persons with the laryngoscope, etc., and on auto-laryngoscopy, may be briefly stated as follows: a nomenclature for the registers involving no theory would be best, such, for example, as _lower_, _middle_, and _upper_ registers. mandl, who recognized only two registers, spoke of them as "lower" and "upper," equivalent to "chest" and "head," as commonly used. the author examined with the laryngoscope persons, who might (with grützner) be divided into "trained singers," "natural singers," and "non-singers." the whole glottis was found to be open in all voices in the lowest tones of the chest register, and this condition obtained up to about [illustration: f-sharp' g'], beyond which another mechanism came into play, except in rare cases. the high falsetto of men and the head voice of women are produced by a similar mechanism and method. in the investigation of registers more attention should be given to the use of the breathing organs than has hitherto been done by those writing on this subject. as madame marchesi, of paris, has taught with preëminent success, and with the greatest practical consideration for the preservation of the voice and the vocal organs in an unimpaired condition, and as the author has had, through her kindness, the opportunity to become acquainted with her methods by observation, her views on the registers are here presented. it is to be understood that as she teaches only ladies, her views are considered, so far as she is concerned, as applying only to female voices. these views are further presented because madame marchesi was herself taught by garcia, who was in the direct line of the old italian masters, though it will be observed that the pupil has retained only the essentials of the master's views on the registers. . there are three registers in female voices: chest, middle, and head. . while there are small differences in voices and individuals as regards the registers, the following principles apply to all of them: (_a_) the chest register must never be carried above [illustration: f-sharp']. (_b_) [illustration: e' f'] should be "covered" or modified chest tones. (_c_) in all cases [illustration: f-sharp''] must be a head tone. (_d_) in quick passages chest should not be carried beyond [illustration: d-flat']--_i.e._, [illustration: d' e' f'] are middle in quick passages. chapter xi. further consideration of the registers of the singing voice. it will, it is hoped, be apparent to the reader that the subject now under treatment may be considered either theoretically or practically. if science be exact, systematized, and, when complete, unified knowledge, then every source of information must be employed in the investigation of so difficult a subject as the registers. there may be differences of opinion as to the relative importance of some of these means of investigation--_e.g._, auto-laryngoscopy, but that it should be utilized, there can be no question. the value of photography of the larynx, as carried out up to the present, may be questioned; but there can be no doubt that if this method of studying the action of the vocal bands could be pushed to a certain point, much light might be thrown on the questions at issue. merely to assume that a method of treating the registers which has given, apparently, good practical results in the hands of one teacher is sound, and rests on a scientific basis, is unwarranted. it may be simply a little better or a little worse than some other. how is the student to distinguish, in his choice, between mr. a and mr. b, in the case of two successful teachers, both of whom recognize registers? a physiologist may be sound as far as he goes, yet lack that practical knowledge of the voice which the vocal teacher properly considers requisite in determining how a pupil shall use the registers. among those who are most dogmatic on this and other questions there is often a plentiful lack of knowledge of the vocal organs; and some clever laryngologists must have learned, when they were carried into the discussion of this subject, that some knowledge of music and singing is absolutely indispensable, and that enough cannot be picked up, even by an able man, in a few minutes devoted to interrogating singers, especially when these vocalists have been trained by widely different methods, and have, as is too often the case, given but little real _thought_ to the scientific, or, indeed, any other side of their art. we find "break" confounded with "register," and the meaning attached to the latter, at best, one-sided or inadequate in some respects. the truth is, such a subject cannot be settled by the physiologist, even when a laryngologist, as such; nor can the solution to a scientific question of this kind be given by a singer, as a singer. such a problem can only be settled, as we have throughout insisted, by those possessing many qualifications, and even when the investigator unites in himself every intellectual qualification, something will depend on his temperament and spirit. an atmosphere of controversy is not favorable to scientific investigation, and among the dangers that ever lie in the path of the teacher are pride and prejudice. the assumption that one is prepared to teach is too often associated with views and feelings that prevent the guide from remaining himself a student and being ready to learn even from the very beginner, as he must if he have the true spirit. unfortunately, several of the most highly qualified writers on this subject have formulated their views under conditions unfavorable to the attainment of the whole truth. it is to be borne in mind always that a register implies ( ) a series of tones of a characteristic clang, _timbre_, color, or quality; ( ) that this is due to the employment of a special mechanism of the larynx in a particular manner. it follows that in thinking of registers scientifically, one must take into account both the tones and the mechanisms by which they are produced. naturally, with most untrained people the passage from one register to another is associated with a suddenness of change which is unpleasant, and which is termed the _break_. it is often suggestive of weakness, uncertainty, etc., and to an ear at once sensitive and exacting through training is intolerable when very pronounced. often this break is very marked in contraltos, and is invariably so pronounced in the male voice when it passes to the upper falsetto that even the dullest ear does not fail to notice the change. it is, therefore, not surprising that teachers should have sought to lessen the unpleasant surprise for the listener caused by the break. some have looked on registers as almost an invention of the evil one, and forbidden the use of the term to their students; but such ostrich-like treatment of the subject--such burying of the head in the sand--does not do away with a difficulty, much less can such a plain fact as the existence of registers be ignored without the most detrimental results, as we shall endeavor to make plain. some, feeling that the break was an artistic abomination, have proceeded to teach the student to reduce all tones to the same quality, which is about as rational as asking a painter to give us pictures, by the use of but one pigment. to attempt to abolish registers would be like leaving but one string to the violin; which instrument, in its present form, has a register for each string; and the player endeavors to avoid the breaks that naturally occur in passing from string to string, and to get a smooth series of tones just as the intelligent vocalist does. the registers may be represented to the eye by the method illustrated in figure . the wise instructor recognizes registers; they are a fact in nature, and one to be valued. the more colors, the greater the range of the artist's powers, other things being equal, whether the artist paint with pigments or tones; but just as the painter uses intermediate tones of color to prevent rude transitions or breaks, so must the singer modify or "cover" the tones between the registers--_i.e._, use to some extent the mechanism of both neighboring registers. the reader who has perused the previous chapter thoughtfully may naturally ask: "with such difference of opinion among eminent authors like those quoted, how am i to know which one to follow, and what to believe on this subject?" the answer to that question we propose now to give. it will be wise to endeavor to show just wherein the writers quoted differ and on what they agree. a careful examination will show that there is substantial agreement on the most important points: . all agree that there are registers, or natural changes of quality of tone, corresponding to changes of mechanism or method. . all, with the exception of madame seiler, agree that the most important changes take place at or near [illustration: a'] in female voices, and the majority consider that this applies to both sexes equally. . often in males there is some laryngeal change lower than this. . all agree that the high falsetto of tenors is of a special quality, and produced by a mechanism of its own--_i.e._, all consider it a separate register--and often, at least, it begins naturally about [illustration: f-sharp'], which is usually, however, written an octave higher, though really sung as given above. [illustration: fig. . a photographic representation of the appearances of the vocal bands when the subject is sounding first e and then f sharp, in which latter case "the vibratory portions of the vocal bands are shortened about one-sixteenth inch," according to dr. french, who has been eminently successful in photographing the larynx. it will be noted that this is the point in the scale at which the change of register usually takes place--_i.e._, there is a change of mechanism corresponding to the change in quality. (french-raymond.)] the point of greatest strain is generally, for both sexes, about this point, and many persons cannot sing higher than this--_i.e._, about [illustration: f-sharp'] for males, and its octave for females. it is to be remembered, as madame seiler has pointed out, that at the period of greatest perfection in vocal training, some hundred and fifty years or more ago, concert pitch was very much lower than it is to-day; so that to teach tenors to sing in one register up to [illustration: a''] then, was quite a different matter from what that would be to-day. the old italian masters were accustomed to train singers to the use of the falsetto, and whatever views may be held as to the desirability of the tenor using this register, so far as art is concerned, there can be no question whatever that physiologically it is easy, and one of the means by which relief may be sought from the high tension caused by carrying up the lower register. the author, after a special investigation of this and other questions connected with the registers, came to the conclusion that the falsetto in males and the head voice in females are produced by a similar mechanism. in the high falsetto the vocal bands do not vibrate throughout their whole breadth, and there must be, for a successful result, in every case a feeling of ease, due to the relaxation of certain mechanisms in use up to that point and the employment of new ones. [illustration: figs. . these figures are meant to convey through the eye some of the main truths regarding the nature of registers and breaks. the figure on the left applies to the case of one with three registers in the voice, and with the breaks only very moderately marked; the illustration on the right applies to the same person after training, when the breaks have become indistinct, almost imperceptible. for teaching purposes the author is accustomed to use a similar diagram, but in shades of the same color, the difference being rendered less obvious by intermediate shades _between_ the register shades in the right-hand figure.] the author now offers, with all respect, but confidence, a few criticisms on the eminent investigators whose conclusions and methods he has been discussing. madame seiler was the writer who, as has been already said, brought more numerous and higher qualifications of a scientific and practical kind to the investigation of this subject than any other person. however, the study of physics, involving as it does the use of methods of extreme precision, tends to beget habits of mind which are not in all respects the best for the consideration of biological problems. madame seiler and her master, the physicist helmholtz, regarded the vocal mechanism very much in the same light as they did their laboratory apparatus. only in this way can the author explain some of madame seiler's positions; but on this assumption one can understand why she should make five registers, and consider them all, apparently, of equal importance. this latter, together with the tendency generally to present her views in too rigid a form, was, we think, her great error. behnke admitted that all five registers might be heard, especially in contraltos, but he did not attach equal importance to each of these registers. mackenzie the author conceives to have been misled by the very method that he considered a special virtue in his investigations--the examination of trained singers. surely, if one would learn what is nature's teaching on this subject, he must not draw conclusions from trained vocalists alone! by training one may learn to walk well on his hands, but this does not prove such a method the natural one, nor would it be good reasoning to draw this conclusion, even if a few individuals were found who could thus walk more rapidly than in the usual way. the diversity that mackenzie found in singers does not, in the author's opinion, exist in nature; much if not most of it was due to training, and all that can be said is that several people may sing in different ways with not greatly different æsthetic results; but such methods of investigation may, as in this case, lead to conclusions that are dangerously liberal. the author holds to-day, as he did when he published his results many years ago, that "impressions from general laryngoscopic observations or conclusions drawn from single cases will not settle these questions. very likely differences such as these writers allude to may exist to a slight degree; but if they do, i question whether they are sufficiently open to observation ever to be capable of definition; nor is it likely that they interfere with methods of voice-production which are alike operative in all persons." holding these views, not only can the author not agree with those who believe that the change in a register occurs in different persons of the same voice (_e.g._, soprano) at appreciably different levels in the scale, and even varies naturally from day to day, but he holds that to believe this in theory and embody it in practice is to pursue a course not only detrimental to the best artistic results, but contrary to the plain teachings of physiology in general and that of the vocal organs in particular. the change in a register should be placed _low_ enough in the scale to suit all of the same sex. _it is safe to carry a higher register down, but it is always risky, and may be injurious to the throat, to carry a lower up beyond a certain point._ the latter leads not only to a limitation of resources in tone coloring, but also to straining, to which we have before alluded. though this process may not be at once obviously injurious, it _invariably_ becomes so as time passes, and no vocalist who hopes to sing much and to last can ignore registers, much less make the change at a point to any appreciable extent removed from those that scientific investigation and equally sound practice teach us are the correct ones at which to make the changes. why is it that some artists of world-wide reputation sing as well to-day as twenty years ago, while others have broken down or have become hopelessly defective in their vocal results in a few years? there is but one answer in a large proportion of these cases: correct methods in the former and wrong methods in the latter class of singers--and "correct" in no small degree refers to a strict observance of registers. the author has known a professional soprano to sing every tone in the trying "hear, o israel" (_elijah_) in the chest register. how can such a singer hope to retain either voice or a sound throat? but so long as audiences will applaud exhibitions of mere lung-power and brute force the teachings of physiology and healthy art will be violated. but, surely, all artists themselves and all enlightened teachers should unite in condemning such violations of nature's plain teachings! the question of the registers is generally considered now a somewhat simpler one for males than for females. basses and barytones sing in the chest register only; tenors are usually taught to sing in the chest register; but few teachers believe that the high falsetto is worth the expenditure of the time and energy necessary to attain facility in its use. probably in many male voices there are the distinctions of register madame seiler alludes to--_i.e._, first chest and second chest, or some change analogous to the middle of females; but, from one cause and another, this seems to readily disappear. whether it would not be worth maintaining is a question that the author suggests as at least worth consideration. certain it is that, speaking generally, there is no change in males equally pronounced with the passage from the lowest to the next higher (chest to middle) register in females. what, then, are the views that the author believes so well grounded, in regard to the registers, that they may be made, in all confidence, the basis of teaching? without hesitation, he recommends that arrangement of the registers set forth in the last chapter. it is not the exclusive invention nor the basis of practice of any one person, but it may fittingly enough be associated with the name of a woman who for over fifty years has taught singing with so much regard for true art and for nature's teachings--_i.e._, for physiological as well as artistic principles. such a method for female voices is wholly consistent with the best scientific teaching known to the author; it is in harmony with the laws of vocal hygiene; it gives the singer beautiful tones, and leaves her with improved, and not injured, vocal organs. such an arrangement of the registers is not marred by the rigidity of madame seiler's nor the laxity of mackenzie's, but combines flexibility with sufficiently definite limitations. as to just how much a teacher of singing should say to the pupil on the subject of registers, and especially in a physiological way, must depend on circumstances. about the wisdom of teachers of singing (and elocution) understanding the vocal mechanism, and carefully weighing the matter of registers from every point of view, the reader of this book will have no doubt, by this time, the author ventures to hope. of course, one may object that for every tone, as it differs slightly in quality from its neighbor in the scale, there should be a new register--a new mechanism. such an objection, though theoretically sound, is of no practical weight. what students wish to know and instructors to teach is how to attain to good singing--the kind that gives genuinely artistic results, and leaves the throat and entire body of the vocalist the better for his effort. the teaching of this work in regard to the registers and other subjects is intended to accomplish this, and not to occupy the attention of readers with vocal or physiological refinements of no practical importance. the author has always been of opinion that those who have investigated and written on this subject have devoted insufficient attention to one point--viz., the manner of using the breath. the breathing in the use of the high falsetto, for example, is as different as are the laryngeal processes; and this is a point of practical importance, for the voice-user must ever consider economy in breathing. it is expenditure in this direction that most taxes all singers, even the best trained and the most highly endowed. but the student, deeply impressed with the importance of the subject of registers, may ask: "how am i to distinguish between one register and another? how am i to know when i am singing with chest, middle, or head voice?" the answer is: "by sensations"--chiefly by hearing, but also by certain sensations (less properly termed "feelings") in the resonance-chambers and to a certain extent in the larynx. of course, before one can thus identify any register, he must have heard a singer of fairly good voice form the tones of this particular register. one who has never heard sounds of a particular color or quality cannot, of course, learn to recognize them from mere description, though by this means he is often _prepared_ to hear, and to associate clear ideas with that hearing. as the registers are of such great practical importance, especially for the female voice, there is no period when it is of so much value to have a lady teacher as just when the voice is being "placed"--which should mean the recognition of its main quality, and the teaching of registers by imitation as well as description. the student should be made to understand, by practical examples, the subject of "covering," or modification. certainly, the training of a vocalist cannot be adequately undertaken by even the most learned musician, however good an instrumentalist, if he has paid no attention to the voice practically. much of the teaching done by those ignorant of voice-production, however well meant, may be a positive drawback, and leave the would-be singer with faults that may never be wholly eradicated. the author would recommend all students who have begun a serious practical study of the registers to hear, if possible, some singer of eminence who observes register formation strictly. in this way more can often be done in getting a clear notion of their characteristic qualities, in a single evening, than by listening to an ordinary amateur, or to such a voice as an otherwise excellent vocal teacher can bring to her work, on many occasions; better one hour listening to a melba, with her observance of registers, covering, etc., as set forth by the author in this chapter, than a score of vocalists of indifferent, even if not incorrect production. one then has before her an individual who, after long and careful training, attains results not, indeed, within the reach of all, but such as may be approached if the same methods are pursued long enough; and in madame melba, and others that might be named, the student has examples of how those using correct methods, and not worshipping at the shrine of mere vocal power, may retain the vocal organs uninjured and the voice unimpaired after the lapse of well-nigh a score of years of exacting public singing. teachers will do well to encourage their pupils to hear the best singers; for do not students need inspiration as well as discipline? granted that the ear can at once determine what register the pupil herself or another singer may be using, what other guide has she? there are certain sensations, as already said, felt within the resonance-chambers and larynx, which are sure guides. in a person who had learned to recognize the correct register formation by the help of the ear and those sensations now referred to, the latter would suffice to be a partial guide, at least, even had he become deaf. while these sensations are absolutely characteristic, it is difficult to describe them; they must be experienced to be understood. to attempt to describe the taste of a peach to one who knew that of an apple but had never eaten a peach would be, perhaps, not absolutely useless, but would certainly serve little purpose. the sensation must accompany the correct formation of the tone. the term "straining" carries with it the idea of unpleasant sensations; all understand practically what this term means; yet the sensation of strain in a tenor carrying his chest register too high is no more marked than the sensation of relief when he changes to the falsetto. when once the voice has been well placed, little attention need be, or is usually, paid _consciously_ to the sensations associated of necessity with all changes in the vocal organs. when one becomes unduly conscious of any of the normal sensations of the body, he is no longer a perfectly healthy person. at the same time, as we have pointed out in chapter ii., and shall do more at length shortly, sensations are absolutely essential guides for all muscular and other processes of the body; but they should enter just so much into consciousness, and no more. it is practically helpful to the voice-producer and the teacher to think of the resonance-chambers and the ear as bearing a close relationship to the movements essential to tone-production. the sensations from these parts are of importance above all others in voice-production. they are the chief guides, and the attention may to advantage be concentrated on them. no doubt the question of registers for the speaker must be considered, but this can be done to greater advantage in a later chapter. summary. all good definitions of a register must recognize two things: change of quality in the voice, and change of mechanism in the vocal apparatus. a break is not a register, but occurs because of the existence of registers. the abrupt transition, or break, is to be avoided by covering, or modification of the upper tones of the lower (at least) register. for an adequate scientific examination of the question of registers, many qualifications are required in the investigator; and the student, when not an investigator, should endeavor to weigh the evidence presented so as to choose with caution from among conflicting opinions. he should be suspicious of those who scout the value of scientific study of this or any other subject, and also of those who claim that experience is of no importance in settling such a question. though several well-qualified persons who have written on the subject differ in some respects, they are in agreement as to many of the more important points. they are practically all convinced that there is commonly a change of register for all voices, at or near one point in the scale (f), and that if this be practically disregarded, dangerous straining may result. conclusions drawn from trained singers, alone, may be misleading. all classes of persons should be examined with the laryngoscope, if correct and far-reaching generalizations are to be safely made. the precision and rigidity of physics and mathematics cannot be introduced with safety into a subject of this character; otherwise the division and limits of registers will be fixed with a narrowness of margin that does not comport with nature's methods. in all questions of register, the method of breathing--_i.e._, the nature of the application of the expiratory blast--must be duly considered. with male voices, the subject is usually considered much simpler than in the case of female voices. men sing mostly in the chest register; basses and barytones wholly so, with the rarest exceptions. tenors are taught to do so. whether there might not be a subdivision of this register made to advantage in training, the author leaves as an open question; but about straining, in the case of tenors and all others, and as to the importance of recognizing three registers for female voices, there is in his mind no question. the fact that some may not be able to produce head tones does not justify carrying up the chest register to any appreciable extent, even by altos. now, as in past times, the high falsetto for males, if good, the result of proper training, has the warrant of both art and sound physiology. in the use of registers, sensations are infallible guides. of these, the most important are those associated with the organs of hearing, but those arising in the vocal organs are also valuable. those only should expect to sing artistically, and to preserve their voices unimpaired for a long period, who wisely observe nature's teachings in regard to registers. chapter xii. fundamental principles underlying voice-production. it is highly important for the speaker or singer to realize early in his career that all forms of artistic expression can be carried out only through movements--muscular movements; in other words, technique or execution implies the use of neuro-muscular mechanisms. however beautiful the conception in the mind of the painter, it can only become an artistic thing when it assumes material form--when it is put on canvas. the most beautiful melody is no possession of the world while it is in the mind of the composer alone; till it is _expressed_, it is as good as non-existent. even poetry can only affect us when it exists in the form of words produced by lip or pen. between the glowing thought of the poet and the corresponding emotion produced in ourselves there must intervene some form of technique--_i.e._, some application of neuro-muscular action. this latter term is a convenient one, and has been already explained. it is a condensed expression for that use of the nervous and muscular systems that results in movements, simple or complex. without nerve-cells and muscles movements are impossible, speaking generally, and for a willed or voluntary movement there must be something more, an idea or concept. before one can make a movement resulting in a simple line or even dot on a piece of paper, he must have the idea of that line or dot in mind. in like manner, before one plays or sings a single note, he must have the idea of that note in mind; in other words, the idea is the antecedent to the movement, and absolutely essential. to have such an idea, memory is necessary. it is impossible to sing a tone after another, as an imitative effort, unless one has the power to retain that tone in memory for at least a brief period of time; and before this same tone can be reproduced on sight of it as represented by a written note, the memory of the sound to which it answers must first be recalled; and not only so, but other memories--indeed, memories of all the sensations associated with the bodily mechanism used in producing it. this applies to all movements, of whatever kind, that we at any time execute. without the past--_i.e._, without memories--no present. some of the memories associated with an act may be lost, and others, sufficient for its performance in some fashion, remain. a man may forget, after the lapse of months or years, how to tie his necktie in a certain way, as he stands before a mirror; yet on turning away he may succeed at once. in this case the visual memories, those that come through the eyes, were lost, but others, those associated with muscular movements, remain. the muscular sense may prove an adequate guide when the visual is ineffective. in the same way, one may call up a melody by moving the fingers over the piano keys, when it cannot otherwise be recovered, or one rescues an air from oblivion by humming a few of its tones; all of which is explained by the revival of muscular and similar memories. all voluntary movements are at first accomplished relatively slowly and with difficulty. they soon weary us. a child learns to walk with the greatest difficulty, and only after numberless failures or errors. the first tones of the would-be pianist or violinist are produced but slowly and with great difficulty, in spite of the most determined effort. if the attempts to vocalize are any more successful, it is because one has already learned to talk--a process that in the first instance (in infancy) was even more laborious than that of walking. the degree to which any one succeeds in his earliest efforts to sing a scale will depend on the readiness with which he can use a variety of neuro-muscular mechanisms--indeed, all those associated with the respiratory, laryngeal, and resonance apparatus. fortunately for the voice-user, this apparatus has all been in use in ordinary speaking. but when this latter process is analyzed, it is found that it is not essentially different from singing. in each the same mechanism is used, and in much the same way; but every one knows that not all who can talk are able to sing, and it is usual to say that those who cannot have no "ear" for music; and this expresses a part of the truth, though not in a scientific way. what is really the truth is found to be, on analysis, that certain guiding sensations, chiefly those from the hearing apparatus (ear, nerves, brain), are insufficient, owing either to natural defect or lack of training; but that this is not the only explanation is plain from the fact that many composers with the most vivid musical imagination, the most perfect auditory memory, and the most acute ear, cannot sing in any but the most imperfect manner. as we have said before, the speaker of great power to affect his fellows through tones, or the artistic singer, must be a sort of vocal athlete. in the athlete there is a very perfect association into one whole of certain sensations from eye, skin, muscles, etc., and certain movements. these exist in all men, but in very unequal degree. the singer is a tone specialist in whom the perception of the pitch and the quality of sounds may not be more acute than in the composer, possibly less so, but he can do what the composer of music often cannot--viz., associate these sensations with muscular movements of a highly perfect character; in different words, he has the technique which others have not in an equal degree. in the singer and speaker there is a very close association between the sensations of the resonance-chambers, the larynx, and other parts of the vocal mechanism, and those from the ear. so perfect does this become from training that the necessary technique at last becomes easy. but it is of the greatest importance that the exact nature of this process be realized by both students and teachers, for weighty considerations grow out of it. we wish to impress the fact that the nature of all neuro-muscular processes is essentially the same. learning to sing is like learning to talk, and the latter is not radically different from learning to walk. this last is at first slow, imperfect, laborious, and largely a voluntary or willed process, or, more strictly, a series of processes. as progress is made, there is less of the voluntary and more that is involuntary, or what physiologists term reflex. when ideas, feelings, etc., enter into a process which is carried out reflexly, a _habit_ is formed. one may say that talking implies a series of associated reflexes, the parts associated being the respiratory, the laryngeal, and the resonance apparatus. singing only approaches this condition of reflex action and habit after practice, and yet no air is perfectly sung except when the result is the outcome of a sort of new habit. every song involves, the learning of new vocal habits. one forms a new habit of an athletic character all the more readily because of previous ones. a man learns to play one game of ball the better, usually, if he have already played at another, the reason being that he has only to modify the action of neuro-muscular mechanisms, not associate new mechanisms together to the same extent as in the formation of a habit of a widely different kind, as rowing a boat. at the same time, one must always unlearn something--break up old habits, to some extent. an opera singer often makes a failure of oratorio at first. the sets of reflexes or the habits, bodily and mental, which he has found valuable for the one form of art do not suit the other perfectly; nevertheless, the same materials are used, the reflexes are in the main the same. he must use preventions, or _inhibitions_, as the physiologists term them. rather is it that he must avoid doing certain things--_i.e._, modify his neuro-muscular processes or reflexes, than form wholly new ones. were it not for reflexes and habits, learning would be so slow one lifetime would not suffice to make an artist. it must be apparent that habits and reflexes are nature's ways of economizing energy. as the best have but a limited amount of energy, it should be the aim of every one who will not be a mere reckless spendthrift to economize, to make the most of what nature has given him; hence the purpose of practice is not only to render success more certain and more perfect, but to make efforts tell to the fullest extent with as little expenditure of energy to the speaker or singer as possible. _he sings or speaks best who attains the end with the least expenditure of energy._ it may with scientific accuracy be said that the object of the student should be to attain to the formation of correct habits in singing and speaking, and of the teacher to guide in this process. it follows that all practice by the beginner should be carried out only in the presence of one who knows the correct methods and can teach the student how to form his habits wisely. practice alone may not only do little good, but, by the formation of wrong habits of production, be positively mischievous; yet a trainer of athletes often lays more restrictions on his ward as to when and how he shall practise, and exercises more supervision over it, than do some teachers of singing, in spite of the fact that the apparatus the singer or speaker uses is much more delicate, and wrong habits much more injurious. the admonition "practise, practise," is greatly overdone. the best results cannot be obtained in either singing, speaking, or playing, with the lengthy and necessarily more or less imperfect if not careless practice in which many students of music indulge. better ten minutes with the whole attention of a fresh and interested mind given intelligently to a subject than ten hours of mere mechanical movement. it is a mistake to suppose that the acquirement of a sound technique is a purely mechanical process. we have shown that for all successful effort there must be the idea, and as soon as that fades, from weariness, etc., the practice should be discontinued. students are not treated fairly when given exercises the meaning or purpose of which is not explained to them. there is now more need than ever that the teacher of music or elocution should be intellectual and not mechanical in his methods. technique is mechanism, but it should be mechanism subordinated to ideas. technique is essential to art, but it is not art. art is the soul, technique the body. the soul will be unknown to the world without technique; hence the author strives in this book to teach the principles on which a sound vocal technique rests, but only that what is best in the soul be not hidden, that the one noble or poetic thought shall be multiplied a thousand times--indeed, that if it be sufficiently worthy, it shall, like tennyson's brook, "go on forever." to believe, on the one hand, that the highest art can be attained with a very mediocre technique, and, on the other, that a perfect technique is the main object of musical training, are alike great and mischievous errors. the author has been asked frequently such questions as the following: "when is the best time to practise? how long should a singer practise at one time, and for how long during a single day? should one practise softly (_piano_) or vigorously (_forte_)?"--etc. often the student is puzzled by contradictory opinions on this subject. one celebrated prima donna states that she never practises more than one hour a day; another, equally distinguished, that she has often spent several hours in almost continuous strenuous practice. what is the student to believe, and whom to follow? no one, for no two persons are alike. all the above questions can be safely and surely answered in the light of science and experience combined, but such questions cannot be settled by the dictum of any singer, teacher, or writer, nor does the experience, in itself, of any one person furnish an adequate guide for others. [illustration: fig. . by this diagram the author has attempted to give the reader some idea of the nature of the chain of processes involved in singing a single tone, from the time the eye looks on the note till the muscles concerned have given it utterance as a tone. the various nervous centres concerned are all in the brain (though the spinal cord supplies some subordinate centres). there are sensory centres, or those for the eye and the ear, and motor centres, or those sending the commands to the muscles involved. further, these must be _connected_ by paths not shown in detail, but represented by one centre spoken of as an "association" centre, which may also, possibly, have much to do with emotions, etc. but, at all events, the dependence of movements on ingoing messages or sensations is emphasized. the deaf cannot speak or sing, and the blind cannot read (ordinary) music. the defect may not be in either senses or muscles, but in the relating nervous mechanism between them. as explained in the body of the work, execution depends on at least two factors, sensations, or ingoing messages, and movements determined by these. now the _connection_ between the ingoing and the outgoing impulses is the most important and the least understood part, but the above diagram will at least serve to emphasize the fact that such connections exist, and that in a general way the result, performance, can be explained. no attempt has been made to trace the path of other sensory impulses than those from eye and ear, as this would make the diagram too complicated.] investigation has shown that the use of muscles tends to the accumulation of the waste products of vital activity; that such accumulation is associated with the experience in consciousness of what we term "fatigue," and which is preceded by "weariness." the latter is a warning that the more serious condition is approaching, but is to be distinguished from another feeling not necessary to name, often present in unwilling youthful students, and for which various forms of treatment are sometimes tried so unsuccessfully that it is as well to discontinue study altogether. . the time at which, as a rule, any work can best be carried out is during the early hours of the day, so that if it is possible, practice should be begun early, and after some preliminary exercise for the good of the body generally--_e.g._, a short walk, during which the lungs may be filled with pure air. as the muscles of the chest, etc., are to be used in voice-production, such a walk or other form of general exercise should not be lengthy. energy should be reserved for the muscular activities involved in vocal practice. . the principle that guides in all use of the muscles, all exercise, is that it be taken under the most favorable circumstances and short of fatigue, even of weariness; hence the question whether the student should practise five minutes or one hour is one that he himself, and he alone, can determine, provided he is old enough and observant enough to know when he begins to feel weary in his vocal mechanism, whether it be in the respiratory organs, the larynx, or the resonance-chambers. with some there is a weak spot, and this settles the question for all other parts. as a rule, beginners will do well not to practice, at first, for longer at one time than five minutes, not only because of the possible weariness, but because at the outset it is difficult to keep the attention fixed. the ear and brain tire as well as the muscles. naturally, the condition of the student at the time has much to do with the length of a practice, but all things are determined by the sensible application of that principle which science and experience alike show to be a safe guide. naturally, as in other exercises, the duration of an exercise may be gradually lengthened with experience. one singer may find an hour a day sufficient, if she be already perfectly trained in every respect--be "in good form," or "fit," as the athletes say--and have only light or _coloratura_ parts to sing; but would this suffice to form a singer to sustain the heaviest dramatic parts for hours together before a large public audience? the training of a hundred-yards sprinter should not be the same as that prescribed for a long-distance runner or a wrestler. [illustration: fig. . the above is a diagrammatic representation of a highly magnified section (or very thin slice) through the outermost or most superficial part of the great brain (cortex cerebri), and is inserted to help the reader to form some idea of the complexity of structure of the most important part of the brain so far as the highest mental processes are concerned. this complexity is greater in man than in other animals.] [illustration: fig. . a nerve-cell from the outer rind of the great brain (cortex cerebri), much magnified. (schäfer.)] . in all practice it is ever to be borne in mind that the end, even in an exercise, is artistic. tones of that quality only which is the best possible to the singer at the time are to be produced, and everything else must yield to this. . no wise trainer ever allows his charges to go on a racing track and at once run a hundred yards at the highest possible speed. such a course would be against all sound knowledge and all the best experience. hence the question of _piano_ and _forte_ practice answers itself; the singer should never begin any exercise _forte_, but either _piano_ or _moderato_--as to which depends on the individual. some persons can only after long study produce really good tones _piano_; such if not most persons should, of course, begin practising with moderate force. certainly, the voice-user should, in order to gain volume, gradually increase the vigor of his practice, but exactly how to do this, and to what extent daily, are questions in which the advice of a sensible and experienced teacher is of great value, though the principle on which that opinion should be founded is clear enough. . the questions as to the total amount of time to be devoted to practice in a single day, and as to whether practice should be continued day after day for weeks and months without interruption, must be decided by the condition of the student, and not by any arbitrary opinion. some individuals and some racers have a capacity for steady work not possessed by others, and happy are they; but there are others who go on by spurts, and such natures are often capable of reaching lofty artistic heights, if they be wisely managed. they need much the same sort of care as a very fleet but uncertain race-horse, and they are often a source of disgust to themselves and of worry to their teachers; but they in some cases get far beyond what the more steady ones can attain to, while others are so unsteady without being talented that they are a trial, and a trial only, to all concerned. such people should, even when clever, not be encouraged in their vagaries, but brought gradually and tactfully under a stricter discipline. . "hasten slowly" applies to all musical practice, that of the voice included, and there never was a time in the history of the world, unfortunately, when people believed in it less. the author would especially warn the student against attempting to force progress by violent or unduly long-continued practices, for if the vocal apparatus be strained, it may remain impaired for months or even for life. "little and often" is a good maxim for vocal practice, all the more as the discontinuation, for the time, of voice-production need not imply that the mind must cease to act. an artist is not formed by vocalization alone, but by processes of education that are many and complicated, into which we might be tempted to enter did they not lie beyond the range of the present work. if the principles set forth in this chapter are scientifically reliable, and we believe they will not be questioned, certain practical considerations are well worthy of special attention. if practice, repetition, leads to the formation of habits more or less fixed, then there can be no surer way to ruin a speaker or vocalist than to permit him to practise by a wrong method; the more he practises, the more he stamps in what is bad. it follows that the most hopeless cases eminent teachers have to deal with are to be found among those vocalists who come to them after years of professional life before the public. one must look on some of these people as on a building spoiled by a bad architectural design. in some cases there is nothing to do but to take the whole structure apart and put it together afresh. it may be humiliating to the vocalist, and it is a severe condemnation of certain methods of teaching, but there is often no other course open, the only question being as to whether the material is good enough to warrant such a radical proceeding. every eminent teacher can recall such cases, and might fill volumes with their histories. if more of these were published as warnings to students and teachers, a good purpose would be served. it is truly sad to find that the prospects of one who might have been formed into a fine artist have been hopelessly ruined by years of practice based on principles that are radically unsound. in the next chapter some specific applications of the principles discussed in the foregoing pages will be considered. summary. all forms of artistic and other expression imply movements. for a willed or voluntary movement there are required ( ) an idea, ( ) a neuro-muscular mechanism. such movements may be relatively simple or highly complex. they all tend, when frequently carried out, to become reflex, and to some extent unconscious or subconscious. combinations of reflexes when associated with consciousness become habits. movements only attain their highest perfection when they reach this stage. it follows that the purpose of all musical practice should be to establish those reflexes which attain the end, the ideal, and to form correct habits. a poem properly recited or a song satisfactorily sung implies a combination of certain reflexes or habits. some of these are in their main features common to all speech and song, but many are peculiar to each example. as phonation implies the use of the muscles (neuro-muscular mechanisms) of the ( ) respiratory organs, ( ) vocal bands, ( ) resonance-chambers, and as these must all work in harmony, or be "co-ordinated," it will be seen that speaking and singing are physiologically highly complex. when, in addition, ideas and feelings are associated, and determine the exact form of these co-ordinations, the whole matter is seen to be still more complex. the emission of a single tone implies ( ) an idea--the nature of the sound as to pitch and quality, ( ) such an arrangement of all the parts of the mechanism as will produce it. the former involves memory of the tone; the latter, memories of former movements. then, partly as a series of voluntary acts and partly reflexly, according as the student is more or less advanced, or the particular tone new or old in experience, do the various neuro-muscular arrangements pass into orderly action. in this process the ear is the chief guide, always in relation to memories. when one uses the printed page, the eyes also guide--_i.e._, the nervous impulses that pass in through these avenues determine the outgoing ones that bring the muscles into action. in doing so they rouse many others (associated nervous connections) which are highly important when an artistic result is to be reached. to consider a single case: assume that the note [illustration: a'] is to be sung. the following are required: ( ) memory of this tone. ( ) adaptation through eye and ear of all the neuro-muscular mechanisms required for (_a_) bringing the vocal bands into the correct position and degree of tension; (_b_) the proper shape, tension, etc., of the resonance-chambers; (_c_) that use of the breathing apparatus suitable to cause the proper vibrations of the vocal bands. all use of the voice implies this much, but in most instances there are _associated_ nervous mechanisms and ideas that are highly important in determining the exact volume, quality, etc., of the tone as related to expression of ideas and feelings according to conventional usage. the breath-stream must in all cases be so employed that there shall be economy of energy--no waste. waste occurs whenever air escapes to any appreciable extent through the glottis chink, as that implies an imperfect adjustment of the vocal bands and the expiratory current. from this and other points of view it may be said that _he is the best singer who gets the most perfect result with the least expenditure of energy_. it is of the highest importance that during every practice, and every moment of each practice, attention be given to as perfect a result as possible, and that the same method be invariably employed. all questions as to methods of practising can be decided on well-known scientific principles which harmonize with experience, and need not be left in that loose and unsatisfactory condition when the dictum of some individual is substituted for principles capable of actual experimental demonstration. chapter xiii. chiefly an application to voice production of facts and principles previously considered. certain sounds may be made without the use of words or syllables, even without the employment of vowels or consonants, but intonation proper cannot be carried out without vowels, at least. the exact nature of vowels and consonants will be considered in the next chapter, but in the meantime it may be pointed out that a vowel is a free and open sound requiring for its production a certain form of the resonance-chambers. neither vowels nor consonants are absolutely pure--that is, entirely free from foreign elements, from noise; but for all practical purposes a vowel is a pure sound, a consonant a sound accompanied inevitably by much noise. this noise is largely due to the difficulties of sounding consonants, the breath breaking against the vocal organs, especially the teeth, lips, etc., much as the waves of the sea against a rocky beach. so far then as musical quality is concerned, a consonant is an unmitigated nuisance. on the other hand, none but the most elemental communication by sounds could be carried out by the use of vowels alone. the consonants stop the breath-current, separate the vowels, and thus lay the foundation for the expression of ideas. ideas imply differences; a new idea is conveyed by a new word, which in its simplest form is a syllable. when a consonant is introduced after a vowel sound, a momentary arrest is produced in the breath-flow, and this has its corresponding effect on the mind. it is, in fact, equivalent to a pause--say a comma or a period. if introduced before a vowel, it is marked off in a more definite way. the effect of this is to enable the ear the better to grasp the sounds. there is the principle of differentiation and the principle of rest, both highly important in all sensory and other psychic or mental processes. consider the sentence "he is a man"--composed purely of monosyllables. remove the consonants, and we have the following: "e i a a." their ineffectiveness in conveying ideas is at once plain, for though "a man" conveys two ideas, such are not expressed by the vowels, which are identical, while "e" and "i" are common to too many words of one syllable to serve any useful purpose, alone, in the conveyance of _definite_ ideas. the consonants at once mark off the limitations; they fence around the ideas, so to speak. for the communication of ideas they are indispensable; nevertheless, being largely noises, they are musically abominable. it follows that voice-production should begin with vowel sounds, and not words--not even syllables. for successful intonation, the first steps should be made as simple as possible, as we have already endeavored to show, hence no such complication as a consonantal noise should be introduced. upon this point there is room for no difference of opinion, though as to which vowel sound is best suited for the beginner, and for more advanced voice-production, there has been great diversity in teaching--a diversity which we propose to show, in the next chapter, need not exist to any appreciable extent. certain vowel sounds may be said to be common to most of the languages used by civilized peoples. these are _u_ (_oo_), _[=o]_, _a_ (_ah_), _[=a]_, _i_ (_ei_), and _[=e]_. there is, fortunately, among teachers considerable agreement as to the question of the best vowel sound with which to begin intonation, or the process of forming musical tones. there can be no question that _a_ (ah) is for general purposes the best, the reason for which will appear later. unfortunately, there is not in the minds of students or teachers generally a sufficiently deep conviction of the importance of forming the voice by long-continued practice with vowels only, for which lack the spirit of the times is largely responsible. until a student of either speaking or singing can form every vowel perfectly, which implies the recognition of these sounds as pure and perfect, and the ability to sing them as the tones of a musical scale, he should not take a single step in any other direction. to do so is to waste tune and to lower artistic ideals. when words are to be used, the question as to which language should be employed is for the singer, at least, a very important one. the ideal vocalist who will bring before the ideal public the best in vocal music must sing in italian, french, german, and english, at least. each of these languages produces its own effects through the voice, and each presents its own advantages and difficulties; but all competent to judge are agreed that italian, because of the abundance of vowels in its words, is the best language in which to sing, or, at all events, to begin with as a training. because of the prevalence of consonants, the german and the english languages are relatively unmusical. the english abounds in hissing sounds, which are a trial to the singer with an exacting ear and perfect taste, and produce most unwelcome effects on the refined listener who really puts music first and the conveyance of ideas second in a vocal composition. it should, of course, be the aim of the student to overcome these difficulties, as german and english, the languages of goethe, schiller, and shakespeare, are for dramatic and some other purposes not equalled by any other languages. but the artist, and above all the musical artist, must be a citizen of the world. he deals with those forms of emotion common to all mankind, and not with the peculiar little combinations of ideas that grow up in a province, city, or village; though of course he will not neglect local coloring, so well illustrated in the folk-songs or popular melodies that have survived for ages in different countries. though a vowel can be produced pure only when the resonance-chambers assume a certain form, this is, of course, only one link in the chain of production. the breathing apparatus and the larynx are also concerned, and we are again brought back, as ever, to the triple combination of the three sets of mechanisms so often alluded to, yet, we venture to think, very inadequately linked in the minds of learners, if not also of teachers. in producing a vowel sound the end aimed at is, on the one hand, purity, on the other, as a result, the easy and effective use of mechanisms--_i.e._, the technique. in every case the breath must be used without waste--just enough, and no more; the laryngeal apparatus, the vocal bands, must be so adapted as to set the air of the resonance-chambers into perfect vibration, which only occurs when the expiratory blast is applied in the correct way and at the right moment to the properly adjusted vocal bands. this latter we have defined as the attack. it implies giving a good start to the tone. it is not all, but it is a large half, in the artist and for the auditor. reconsideration of the resonance-chambers we shall now give further attention to some of the more important parts of the resonance-chambers, in so far as they bear directly on voice-production. in singing and speaking, the larynx should be _steadied_, but not held rigidly fixed in any one position. it will be remembered that to this part of the vocal mechanism are attached, below, the trachea, and above, the tongue, indirectly through the hyoid bone and the thyro-hyoid membrane, as well as certain muscles which influence the relative position of these various parts, so that to maintain the larynx in the same position, absolutely, must be against nature's methods. the tongue alone must in its movements tend to alter the position of the larynx, as we have before pointed out. at the same time, the laxness and lack of control which some singers permit in their vocal organs, under the mistaken idea that all the parts of the "throat" cannot be too free, prevents them from getting the effects they desire, with that vigor and certainty the public so much admires, and rightly so. the golden mean should be observed; between undue tension, which implies inability to control, whether it be in the larynx or the breathing apparatus, and a looseness inconsistent with neat and certain results, the voice-producer must choose, with that common sense so indispensable to success in all undertakings, but which will never be adequately encouraged till students look more frequently for the reasons of the procedures recommended to them, and teachers strive to gain influence with their pupils by showing them that what they recommend lies beyond their own minds--that it, in fact, has its foundation in the laws of nature. of the tongue, soft palate, and lips, which are the principal modifiers of the shape of the mouth cavity, the tongue has by far the most influence. when the tongue lies flat in the mouth, it may be considered to be in its primary position, and it is important that in singing and speaking the student learn to begin his voice-production with this organ in that position, or a slight modification of it, for it is only when it is thus placed that a tone at once round, full, and pure can be produced. in order to secure this result, the vocalist or speaker must begin by taking breath through the mouth, as we have already insisted, and at once, before there is time for any stiffening of parts, commence to intonate--_i.e._, as soon as enough air has been inhaled for the purpose intended. the correct position is facilitated when one taking breath through the mouth acts as if about to _yawn_. if this act be well imitated, the student will find, on looking into a hand-glass, that the tongue is more or less furrowed behind in the middle--in other words, it forms a sort of trough; and the deeper the trough the student learns to form at will, the better, for there are times in actual singing and speaking when this must be as deep as possible. it is clear that in this way the central convexity above, formed by the hard palate, forms with the corresponding concavity in the tongue a sort of trumpet-shaped organ admirably adapted for the production of the desired tone. the tongue is important in the highest degree not only in the formation of vowels, as will be shown more fully in the next chapter, but also in shaping consonants. it is sometimes important to move the tongue from one position to another with great rapidity. such a composition as figaro's song (cavatina) in rossini's "barber of seville" could not be properly sung by any one not possessing great control over the tongue. indeed, this composition may be considered a perfect test of the extent to which the singer is a master of mouth gymnastics; and this is only one of many such works. in like manner, many passages in shakespeare and others of the best writers in all languages can only be spoken with effect by those with a mastery over the tongue, lips, soft palate, etc., but above all, the tongue. important as are the lips, many persons tend to use them too much, and the tongue too little, in speaking and singing. they attempt to make up for a mouth almost closed in front by the teeth, by excessive movements of the lips. special tongue and lip practice should be carried out before a mirror. the lips should be kept rather close to the gums, and moved away as little as possible (_i.e._, the lips), as to do so serves no good purpose, and is unpleasant to the eye of the observer. teeth and lips must be regarded, so far as musical sounds are concerned, as danger regions--rocks on the shore, against which the singer or speaker may shipwreck his tones. his object should be to use them adequately to form vowels and consonants--in other words, in the formation, not the spoiling, of words, as is so often the case. we cannot too much insist on both speaker and singer attending to forming a connection between his ear and his mouth cavity. he is to hear, that he may produce good tones, and the tones cannot be correctly formed if they be not well observed. to listen to one's self carefully and constantly is a most valuable but little practised art. the student should listen as an inexorable critic, accepting only the best from himself. this leads to the consideration of the question of the open mouth. the expression "open mouth" means, no doubt, to most people, the open lips rather than the open mouth cavity--_i.e._, open in front, the teeth well separated. in voice-production, by "open mouth" both open cavity and open lips must be understood. there is a special tendency in many, perhaps in most persons, to close the mouth cavity unduly in singing a descending scale. this is often accompanied by a bad use of the breath, and a general relaxation of the vocal apparatus, which is possibly more frequent in sopranos and tenors, whose chief effects are often produced by their high tones. but to-day, more than ever, when refined intellectual and emotional effects are demanded, is it important that the lower tones, so effective in producing emotional states, should not be neglected by any singer of whatever voice; while for speakers high tones are really comparatively little used. much more attention is paid by teachers and students to the open mouth at the present time than formerly; in fact, like some other good things, it is often overdone. the individuality of the singer and speaker must always be borne in mind. if some are obliged to open the mouth as much as others, the result will not be happy. any one may demonstrate to himself that the quality of a tone may be at once changed by unduly opening or closing the mouth. one may say that _the mouth should be sufficiently opened to produce the best possible effect_. we have never seen the mouth opened to such an extent that it was positively unsightly--reminding one of the rhinoceros at a zoo--without feeling that the tone had suffered thereby. if all would remember that the mouth is best opened by simply _dropping the lower jaw_, passively, in the easiest manner possible, the difficulties some students experience would disappear. many act as if the process were chiefly an active one, while the reverse is the case, as one may observe in the sleeper when the muscles become unduly relaxed--a condition that is often accompanied by snoring, which is produced by a mouth-breathing that gives rise to vibrations of the soft palate. we mean to say that the lower jaw drops when muscles relax, and that opening the mouth is largely a passive thing, while closing the mouth is an active process. the position of the head in its influence on tone-production is an insufficiently considered subject. it is impossible that the head be much raised or lowered without changes being produced in the vocal apparatus, especially the larynx, and if the tone is not to suffer in consequence, special care must be taken to make compensatory changes in the parts affected. it is only necessary to sing any vowel, and then raise the chin greatly, to observe a distinct change in the quality of the tone, with corresponding sensations in the vocal organs. to speak or sing with the head turned to one side is plainly unfavorable to the well-being of the parts used, because it leads to compression, which gives rise to that congestion before referred to as the source of so many evils in voice-users. to sit at a piano and sing is an unphysiological proceeding, because it implies that the head is bent in reading the music on a page much lower than the eyes, and when, with this, the head is turned to one side to allow of reading the music on the distant side of the page, furthest from the middle line of the head, the case is still worse. if all who thus use the vocal organs do not give evidence of the truth of the above by hoarseness, etc., it is simply because in young and vigorous organs there may be considerable power of resisting unfavorable influences. the student is recommended to use his voice in the standing position only, when possible, as all others are more or less unnatural. one often has the opportunity to observe how the effect is lost when a reader bends his head downward to look at his book or manuscript; and he himself, if the process is long-continued, will almost certainly feel the injurious influence of this acting on his vocal organs. chapter xiv. some specific applications of principles in tone production. it is no doubt valuable, indeed for most singers essential, to employ a series of elaborate exercises, or _vocalises_, which in some cases differ from each other only by slight gradations; but it is to be borne in mind that all the actual principles involved can be expressed practically in a very few exercises. these are: ( ) the single sustained tone; ( ) the tones of a scale sung so as to be smoothly linked together; ( ) the same, sung somewhat more independently of each other; ( ) the same, but each tone beginning and ending very suddenly. if the execution of any vocal musical composition be analyzed, it will be found that these four methods cover substantially the whole ground. as one other is very extensively used in giving expression in the form of shading, it is worthy of special mention--viz., ( ) the swell. all others are modifications of the above. as these methods of tone-production are of so much importance, it will be worth while to analyze them. it will be found that in each there is a characteristic use of the breathing mechanism. the larynx and the resonance-chambers are of course intermediate, as usual, between the breath-stream and the result, the tone; without them there could be no tones. but if the student have clearly in mind the memory of the tone he wishes to produce, including its various properties of pitch, volume, quality, etc., it will be found that the point requiring strict attention, in production, is the breathing, especially the manner of using the expiratory current. . the sustained tone requires an amount of breath proportional to its length, and the great aim in its production should be to convert, so to speak, all the breath into tone, as we explained in a previous chapter. this sustained tone, which may be practised with advantage on every one of the notes of a scale, is, in the nature of things, the very foundation of all good singing and speaking. . in the second and third exercises the differences in the method lie in the attack and the manner of using the breath. the smoothly linked tones are the more difficult for most people, since they require special control over the laryngeal mechanism and the breathing apparatus. between the singing of a scale in this manner (_legato_), and as it is frequently done, there is the same difference as in walking up-stairs as does a perfectly trained ballet-dancer, and this act as carried out by a rough countryman, used only to ploughed fields, etc. for a perfect execution, the attack, while decisive enough, must be most carefully regulated, and the breathing, which is always to be considered in a good attack, must be of the most even character; the outflow requires the most perfectly controlled movements of the respiratory apparatus. in the other form of exercise (detached tones) there is often, at least, a little more emphasis on the attack, and the breathing is perhaps not always so even, but in some passages, in actual singing, the method employed for these less closely linked tones is in most respects the same as the last. . very different from all the preceding is the mode of production usually designated by musicians _staccato_, _marcato_, etc. the tone is attacked suddenly, and as suddenly dropped, which, expressed physiologically, means that the entire vocal mechanism is rapidly adjusted, one part to another, and as suddenly relaxed; and the one seems to be about as difficult as the other. in this a certain sudden tension of the vocal apparatus is essential. the whole respiratory apparatus, after the breath is taken, is held more or less tense. in executing these abrupt (staccato) effects the diaphragm is the chief agent, and operates against the column of air in the lungs, the chest and abdominal walls being kept more or less tense. though this is the case, the voice-producer will succeed best if he gives attention to the resonance-chambers, after having put the breathing mechanism into the right condition. there should be as little movement of the chest walls, diaphragm, larynx, etc., as possible. the whole is a question of tension, but not rigidity, and the reason the staccato effect is so difficult for most persons is that they attempt to accomplish it by _excessive movements_ of the breathing apparatus or larynx. the _mind_ must be relieved of any feeling of undue tension, and the result attained by the establishment of a close connection between the ear and the resonance-chambers. the first interrupted effects should be of very brief duration and as _piano_ as possible, but the attempt to produce the real staccato may to great advantage be preceded by an exercise recommended in chapter viii.,--viz., singing a tone of some duration, then suddenly interrupting it, and, with the same breath, beginning the tone again as suddenly as it was interrupted. in fact, till this can be done with ease the staccato proper should not be attempted, for though the principles involved are the same, the execution requires far more skill than the exercise recommended for an earlier stage, and which it is well to continue throughout. simple as these exercises seem from mere description, or as carried out with a certain degree of success, perfection in them is not to be attained short of years of the most diligent study. how many singers living can sing an ascending and a descending scale, in succession, with a perfect staccato, to mention no other effect? yet among all the resources of dramatic singing and speaking none is more important than this one. what so eloquent as the silence after a perfect stop--a complete and satisfactory arrest of the tone? how many modern actors are capable of it? how many singers? instead of the perfect arrest, the listener is conscious, not of the rounded and complete tone, but of an edge more or less ragged. there is some noise with the actual tone. the above exercises, when carried out to a perfect result, give us _bel canto_ singing, for which the old italian school was so noted, and which is now largely a lost art, not so much because the methods are not known to teachers, as because students will not do the work necessary to attain to this _bel canto_. we seek for short cuts, and we get corresponding results. the _bel canto_ is, simply, beautiful singing, the result of perfect technique, and is opposed to effects which are not truly artistic, though no doubt often highly expressive to the unmusical and the inartistic. they may appeal to us as feats, but they are not artistic results, and, as we have before insisted, they are injurious in many cases to the vocal organs, while good voice-production strengthens them. . the swell is simply a modification of the sustained tone. when a tone is perfectly sustained, without any change in volume, etc., we have a most valuable effect, and one very difficult to achieve, because it implies such a steady application of the breath power and such nice adjustments of all the parts concerned. to produce a tone with variations in it is easy enough, and that is what is usually given us instead of the perfectly even tone, reminding us of a straight line. in the swell, as the name suggests, the tone should rise gradually in volume or loudness, and as gradually decline. if this can be done readily, and continued for several seconds, it will be easy to produce other effects, as the sudden swell, but such effects should come after, not before, the slower ones. a critical observer soon realizes the defects of modern technique when he listens to a singer's tones when attempting slow effects, as in a softly sustained melody. only the well-trained vocalist can hope to sing such a melody, especially if long sustained, in a way to meet the demands of an exacting ear and advanced musical taste. it will be apparent that the swell is the basis of shading, a quality that is so highly appreciated in this refined age. he who can manage the swell perfectly has the secret of this effect in his possession as have none others. although we have referred more to the singer than to the speaker, in this chapter, it is to be understood that these and all other exercises suggested are of great value in forming the voice for public speaking. it is not so important, it must be admitted, for the speaker as for the singer that his tones be musically perfect, as he relies more on ideas than on tones, still, with every idea employed by the public speaker there is the inseparable feeling, or "feeling-tone;" so that the speaker, as well as the singer, is to some extent dependent on tone painting--indeed, must be, if he will be no mere man of wood, a "dry stick," to some extent, in spite of the use of appropriate language, gestures, etc. there are many avenues to the heart, and that by tones cannot with impunity be neglected by the speaker, though for his purpose the singing of tones need occupy only weeks or months, while for singers, in the case of all who would attain to a high degree of excellence, it must extend over years. "forward," "backward," etc., production. certain expressions are in common use by teachers and singers, such as "to direct the breath forward," "forward production," "backward production," etc. no doubt such terms may serve a practical purpose, though they are often used with lamentable vagueness, but it must be understood that they do not answer to any clearly demonstrated physiological principles. there is, for example, no clear evidence that the breath can be directed toward the hard palate in the neighborhood of the teeth, as the drawings sometimes published would indicate. it has already been many times urged that when breathing is satisfactory, breath does not escape to any considerable extent into the mouth cavity, but that the expiratory blast is used to set the air of the resonance-chambers into vibration. the changes that must be made in these cavities, to lead to certain effects, are accompanied by characteristic sensations, and these, and not the direction of the breath, are largely responsible for the ideas on which the above expressions rest. as before shown, the soft palate is constantly being used more or less, and when it and the tongue unite in action so as to cut off the mouth cavity, or, more strictly, the anterior portion of it, from the nasal chambers, a very pronounced modification in the tone results, and, of necessity, such actual escape of breath as occurs takes place through the nose. in reality, there is a special modification of the shape of the resonance-chambers for every tone produced, and especially when the color or quality is changed, as well as the pitch. there is, therefore, not only "forward" and "backward" but also middle production, though, in reality, these terms at best but imperfectly describe, even for practical purposes, what happens. it is to be feared that with some teachers of both singing and speaking "forward production" has become a sort of panacea for all vocal ills; but it is not, and just the reverse teaching is required in certain cases. if a voice be brilliant, yet hard, it will be improved by a more backward production, judiciously employed, and in this way the french language is often to be recommended to such singers, as it favors this backward production, with such use of the nasal resonance as mellows the tones. the tenor who has not learned the use of the nasal resonance, to give richness to the tones of his middle and upper range, has missed a valuable principle. on the other hand, for voices that are too soft, lack brightness, and fail in carrying-power, a more forward production will often improve the quality of the voice greatly. but a little consideration must convince the student that if he is to be master of his voice-production throughout, if he is to produce tones of every shade of quality, he must be able to shift that voice about in every quarter as occasion demands; in other words, _all the changes possible in the resonance-chambers must be at his command_. such is the case in the very greatest singers of both sexes; and, of course, this applies equally, if not still more, to speakers. when the voice-producer has learned to intonate surely, when the voice is "placed," and the secrets of the registers are known to him, he will do well to experiment a little, cautiously, with his own resonance-chambers, so as to widen his practical knowledge of the principles underlying the modification of tones. why should the student of the voice remain a mere imitator, when the one who works in any other direction is, or should be, encouraged to be an original investigator? the inability of students to judge of either the grounds for or the value of the exercises and methods recommended to them by their teachers seems to the author to indicate a regrettable state of things, which teachers of every form of vocal culture should endeavor to remedy. some teachers do not use the terms "backward" and "forward," but "darkening" and "brightening" the voice; and, of course, the result of a certain use of the tongue and soft palate is to darken or veil the quality of the voice. but the attentive reader will scarcely mistake the author's meaning in the above and other references to this subject. it is scarcely necessary to point out that in what has been said no encouragement is intended to be given to the nasal twang, or any thing resembling it--and it is easy to so use the nasal resonance that it becomes a defect; but the value of a judicious use of the nose in singing and speaking is, we are convinced, not as well known in vocal teaching as it deserves to be. summary. the relation of vowels and consonants to singing and speaking. intonation should be by vowels only, at first. consonants are a necessary evil in singing, but all-important in the formation of words--_i.e._, in imparting ideas. every language has its own special merits and defects for the purposes of song and speech. that language which abounds in vowels is the best adapted for vocal exercises, etc. it is a cardinal error to begin a course in speaking and especially singing with exercises based on words. vowel sounds should be exclusively employed at first. in the formation of vowels and consonants the resonance-chambers are especially involved. the tongue, soft palate, and lips are the most movable parts, and so have the largest share in giving color and meaning to sounds--_i.e._, they are the organs most important in the formation of the elements of words. the "open mouth" should mean open mouth cavity and duly separated lips. it is important that there be control of all parts of the resonance-chambers, and always in relation to other parts of the vocal apparatus. chapter xv. the elements of speech and song. the subject treated in this chapter may be made dry enough; but if the student will, while reading the descriptions given, endeavor to form the sounds described, observing at the same time his own resonance-chambers (mouth parts) carefully in a hand-glass, and then follow up the applications made, the reader's experience will be, in all probability, like the author's: the more the subject is studied the more interesting does it become, especially if one experiments with his own resonance apparatus. vowels and consonants are the elements of syllables, and words are composed of the latter. however pure a vowel is, it is accompanied in its utterance by some noise; a consonant, by relatively a great deal of noise. a _noise_, in distinction to a musical tone, is characterized by irregularity as regards the vibrations that reach the ear, while in the case of a tone a definite number of vibrations strikes against the drum-head of the ear within a given time; so that so far as syllables and words, even vowels, are concerned, we are not dealing with pure tones. for the formation of each vowel a definite form of the resonance-chambers is essential. in uttering, either for the purposes of speech or song, the vowel _u_ (_oo_), the mouth cavity has the form of a large flask such as chemists use for their manipulations, but the neck in this case is short. the whole resonance cavity is elongated, and the lips are protruded; the larynx is depressed, and the root of the tongue and the fauces (folds from the soft palate, usually spoken of as the "pillars of the fauces") approach. the pitch of this vowel is very low. [illustration: fig. (beaunis). shows the position of parts in sounding the vowel _a_. by comparing this illustration with those following, the relatively greater size of the cavity of the mouth in this case will be evident. the reader is recommended to at once test the correctness of these representations by sounding the vowels, and observing the parts of his own vocal mechanism with a hand-mirror.] in _[=o]_ the lips are nearer to the teeth, and the neck of the flask is shorter and wider; the larynx is somewhat more elevated than in the last case, and the pitch of the sound is higher. when sounding _a_ (as in _father_) the mouth cavity has the shape of a funnel, wide in front; the tongue lies rather flat on the floor of the mouth, the lips are wide apart, and the soft palate is somewhat raised. in _[=a]_ (as in _fate_) there is some modification of the last, the tongue and larynx being more raised. the pitch of this vowel is higher than is that of the more open _a_. in the case of _[=e]_ (as in _me_) the flask is relatively small, and the neck is long and narrow, the larynx much raised, the lips drawn back against the teeth, and the tongue greatly elevated, so as to form the narrow neck of the flask. the pitch of this vowel is high. [illustration: fig. (beaunis). shows the relative position of parts in sounding _i_. in sounding _e_ the position is a good deal like that for _i_.] when sounding _[=i]_ (as in _mine_) the cavity of the mouth behind resembles a small-bellied flask with a long, narrow neck, the larynx is at its highest, and the lips assume a position much as in the case of _[=e]_; between the hard palate and the back of the tongue there is only a narrow passage--a mere furrow. the pitch of this vowel is also high. it is thus seen that every vowel has its characteristic quality and pitch, the order as regards the latter being from below upward, _u_, _o_, _a_, _[=a]_, _e_, _i_. that the mouth cavity really can act as a resonance-chamber can be easily demonstrated by holding a small vibrating tuning-fork before the open mouth, and varying the shape and size of the cavity till the sound of the fork is observed to be suddenly increased in volume. the cavity then is a resonance-chamber for the fork, and thus intensifies its sound; in other words, the air in the mouth cavity vibrates in harmony with the tuning-fork. to demonstrate in a simple manner that each vowel has its own pitch, the mouth cavity is put into the form usual in sounding the vowel, and the finger is filliped against the cheek, when a tone answering in pitch to that of the vowel in question results. the demonstration is easier with the lower-pitched, broader vowels, but the correctness of the order of the pitch mentioned above can thus be shown to be established. some very important principles for the speaker and singer hinge upon the above-mentioned facts. it follows, for example, that it is impossible to give a vowel its _perfect_ sound in any but one position of the mouth parts, so that for a singer to utter a word containing the vowel _[=u]_ (_oo_) at a high pitch is a practical impossibility. the listener may know what syllable is meant, and overlook the defect either from habit or from an uncritical attitude, but composers of vocal music should bear such facts in mind and not impose impossibilities on singers. at the same time, the vocalist, in order to satisfy a modern audience, is obliged to sound every word and every syllable as correctly as possible, even if the tone suffer somewhat thereby. it is wonderful how fully the best poets have, with the insight of genius, adapted their words (vowels) to the ideas they wish to convey, and had all composers of vocal music done the same, the path of the singer would not have been strewn with so many thorns. the difficulties in the case of the speaker are similar, but less marked, as his range is so much more limited as regards pitch. [illustration: fig. (beaunis). shows the relative position of the parts in sounding _ou_.] this subject has also most important bearings on the learning of languages. one is born with tendencies toward certain mouth positions, etc., and from infancy he is constantly using the resonance-chambers in certain characteristic ways. in the course of years these positions, etc., become such fixed habits that it is difficult to change them, so that for this as well as many other reasons the learning of languages by persons beyond a certain age is a difficult matter. but to all students of a foreign tongue it is really essential to explain the physical mechanism by which the various sounds are made. the author has known an adult to struggle for months with french and german pronunciation, and get into a state of discouragement, fearing that he never would be able to learn the languages in which he wished to speak and sing, when a few moments spent in explaining just what we have written above for vowels, and what we have earlier and shall now more fully set forth in this chapter as regards consonants, have been followed by the lifting of the cloud from the mind and of a load of heaviness from the heart. the learner should ( ) hear the sound (elemental--a vowel, say) from the lips of the teacher, and actually perceive just what that sound is--_i.e._, he must really hear it; ( ) observe the shape of the resonance-chambers; ( ) try to produce the same shape of his own, and under the guidance of his ear and his eye (watching the mouth of the teacher) so utter the sound correctly. this sound should be fixed in the mind, and the ear trained by comparing it with other sounds, as the wise teacher will do, and require imitations. any language can be pronounced correctly in a short time, if this method be followed. it is, indeed, the only one that rests on science and common sense. the student when away from the teacher, after he has once learned to form the vowels correctly, should practise with a hand-glass before him for some time, at least. the learning of a new language is the acquiring of a new mouth, or, at all events, entirely new methods of using the old one. in reality, however, this is not so fully the case as it at first seems. in all the languages one wishes to acquire, the same vowels occur, and for the learner it is often a question of lower or higher pitch, or greater or less breadth, though all this involves the formation of new habits and the fighting of old ones, and often in the case of the adult the struggle is a long-continued and severe one. some nations speak at a lower pitch than others, and if a foreigner enunciate ever so well, yet at the pitch of his own and not that of the new language, his utterance may seem foreign. the germans speak at a much lower pitch than americans, and their tongue, even when grammatically spoken by the latter, is apt to have a sort of foreign flavor. it slightly disturbs the listener, who is not accustomed to hear his mother-tongue transposed into another key, so to speak. we have known a learner to derive great benefit from having it pointed out to him that certain of his vowel sounds would at once cease to be incorrect if their pitch were altered. of course, in doing this, there were at once many changes made in the resonance-chambers, in order to get the changed pitch. pitch, accent, and duration of the sound throw much light on the subject of dialect, as a little analysis of irish or scotch will show. consonants are, as we have already said, noisy nuisances for the singer, but indispensable for word-formation, and so for human intercourse. each has also its own pitch, and investigators have come to a measurable degree of agreement on this subject. to illustrate: madame seiler found that _r_ and _s_ are separated from each other by an interval of many octaves: [illustration: c], _r_; [illustration: b-flat'''], _s_. the latter, _s_, cannot be sounded without more or less of a hissing sound, suggesting escape of air, which is very unpleasant to the ear, and, unfortunately, these hissing sounds are very common in english, so that the speaker or singer is called upon to use all his art to overcome this disagreeable effect. this is also prominent in _whispering_--_i.e._, the escape of breath, with its corresponding effect on the ear. whispering is effected chiefly, if not solely, by the resonance-chambers, the vocal bands taking only the slightest part, if any at all. the physiologist brücke, treating of the utterance of consonants, considered that they were formed by the more or less complete closure of certain doors in the course of the outgoing blast of air, and we have already referred to a consonant as an unpleasant interrupter, musically considered. perhaps we should be disposed to compare them to the people that talk during the performance at a concert, did we not wish to avoid bringing such useful members of the speech community into undeserved disrepute. consonants, like vowels, have their own mouth positions. this follows from their having pitch, but, in addition, they require the use of the tongue, lips, etc., in a special way. the principal articulation positions are the following: ( ) between the lips; ( ) between the tongue and the hard palate; ( ) between the tongue and the soft palate; ( ) between the vocal bands. to indicate this, certain terms have been employed, and as they are in common use by those who treat of this subject, it will be well to explain them. _explosives_ are consonants in uttering which there is complete closure with a sudden opening of the resonance-chambers in front, as in _b_ and _p_. [illustration: fig. (beaunis). representation of the relative position of the parts and the resulting shape of the sounding chamber when the consonants indicated are formed vocally. verification of the truthfulness of the illustrations will prove profitable.] _vibratives_ call for an almost complete closure of the door and a vibration of its margin, as in _r_. _aspirates_ partly close the opening, which is at once suddenly opened again, as in _f_, _v_, etc. _resonants_ close the mouth, so the sound must find its way out through the nose, as in _m_, _n_, _ng_. the above may be put in tabular form as follows: articulation positions. explosives. aspirates. vibrates. resonants. _b, p_ _f, v, w_ _m_ _t, d_ _s, z, l, sch, th_ _n_ _k, g_ _j, ch_ palatal _r_ _ng_ _h_ of course the above is only one of many possible classifications, and expresses only a part of the whole truth, for the formation of a single consonant is a very complicated process, the exact nature of which can only be very imperfectly analyzed and expressed in words. in complexity of action the resonance-chambers are wonderful beyond any instrument devised by man, and the more one studies the subject, the greater the wonder becomes at the amount and complexity of the work done in a single day's speaking. it is also easy to understand how difficult it is to attain to absolutely perfect results. to enable one's fellow-creatures to understand him in even his mother-tongue involves an amount of effort and energy, a complexity and facility in function, that can only be reached after months of practice in infancy; but to attain to that degree of perfection that makes an artist in speaking, how much greater is the expenditure in vital capital! is not the result when attained worth the best efforts of the most talented individual? chapter xvi. further theoretical and practical consideration of vowels and consonants. the reader will now be prepared to consider the answer to be given to the question as to the _vowels_ most suitable for practice in intonation. plainly, _a_ (_ah_) puts the resonance-chambers into the easiest and best position to form a good pure tone. the pitch of the vowel is intermediate--not very low and not high in the scale. for the higher tones, evidently, _[=a]_, _e_, and _i_ are better than _a_ (_ah_), much less _o_ and _u_, which are quite out of the question, comparatively speaking. however, as music must be sung with vowels in every position, it is plainly necessary to learn to sound all the vowels well throughout the scale. in fact, one might wisely, after preliminary practice on _a_, begin a scale below with _u_, then go on to _o_, _a_, _[=a]_, _e_, and _i_. some have recommended that the vocalist begin his scale practices with _a_, and when the higher middle tones are reached, that he use _[=a]_, and for head tones _[=a]_ and _e_, an advice which is obviously sound, as it is based on scientific principles. sounds that are very expressive in public utterance, whether in speech or song, are _l_ and especially _r_. in ordinary speech most persons use only the guttural _r_, in the formation of which the soft palate takes a prominent part; but for the speaker and the singer the lingual _r_ is often much more effective. it is produced by the vibration of the tip of the tongue, and can only be formed well, in most cases, after long-continued and persevering practice. certain consonants tend to nasality. these are _m_, _n_, _ng_, and of these all persons who are disposed to this production to the point of excess must especially beware. these letters, with such people, should be given a rapid and forward production, while singers with hard and metallic voices will do well to sing syllables beginning with these consonants, such as _maw_, _naw_, _ang_, _eng_, etc. according to the teachings of physics, the quality of a tone is determined largely by the number and variety of the _overtones_ accompanying the fundamental tone. practically all musical tones, whether vocal or instrumental, are made up of the ground tone and certain others less loud and prominent, and the latter are the overtones. these may be very numerous, and some are favorable and others unfavorable to excellence in quality. it has been thought, as the result of scientific investigation, that when the first octave of the fundamental tone and its fifth interval are prominent, the voice is soft, and with the fifth and seventh well in evidence, the voice is bright and clear. it might be said that the voice-user should endeavor to keep out of his voice certain overtones, especially those which are not within the range of our modern harmonies. a harsh voice is one in which such unharmonic intervals preponderate. the most beautiful quality of tone is produced by keeping intensity within limits, and by a sudden, elastic attack, a point on which we dwelt at some length before; but this only emphasizes the importance of all who use the voice employing, not only when beginners, but throughout their career, exercises with vowels alone. only in this way will the association between the hearing of pure tones and their production be established. such exercises are also necessary to give good carrying power to the voice. if more attention were given to this point, and less to the production of mere volume of sound, it would be well for the best musical art. naturally, the higher the pitch of tones, within certain limits, the greater their carrying power, and the reverse, of course, with the lower tones; so that it is very important that the speaker and singer use all reasonable means to produce these lower tones well, else they are muffled, and the words associated with them are not heard. this principle should be borne in mind especially by tenors and light sopranos, in whom the lower tones are not usually the best, or the easiest to produce; so that a good attack and careful and neat syllable-formation, with all attention to both vowels and consonants, should be especially studied, and, above all, in tones below about g on the treble clef. the tendency to close the mouth, especially in a descending scale, below this point, and to confound blurring with soft (_piano_) singing, is common. a _piano_ tone should be formed with especial care as to attack, open mouth, etc., and all words associated with the duller, lower-pitched vowels be spoken with the greatest distinctness, both in singing and speaking. at the same time, the barytone and contralto should not boast themselves over the tenor or soprano, if they are more successful with lower tones and the words associated with them, for the latter class of singers can often revel like birds in regions not approachable by the deeper-voiced singers. each in its own order! it follows that if the organs of speech are used so as to produce vowels, consonants, and their combinations, with unusual and, for practical purposes, unnecessary distinctness, the actual performance, as demanded by a critical ear, will be easier. one that can run two hundred yards as readily as another can one hundred is in a better position for the shorter sprint than the other man; hence the wisdom of the singer and speaker practising first with unusual and indeed unnecessary distinctness, so far as the listener is concerned, in order that he may satisfy even the critical with _ease_--that all-important principle in art. all persons must, of necessity, speak in some register, and even an ear but little cultivated can recognize that the pitch and quality of the tones of adult males, adult females, and children differ greatly from each other. madame seiler has thus expressed herself on this subject: "women use mostly tones of the second chest and first falsetto registers, sometimes also those of the first chest register. men speak an octave lower than women, and use mostly the upper half of the chest register. in public speaking, as well as on the stage, the second chest register is used by men, and sometimes also the lowest tones of the voice. the second falsetto and head registers are used only by little children." it will be remembered that madame seiler's "second chest" corresponds to the upper chest tones of some writers, and that "falsetto" is equivalent to "middle," as generally employed. ordinary speech is economical, and a range of very few tones, usually not more than two to four intervals of the scale, suffices, but on the stage, and by some of our best public speakers, twice this range may be exceeded. in nature, the cat, under the excitement of a heated interview with a fellow-vocalist, may pass through an entire octave. summary. the shape of the resonance-chambers varies in the formation of vowels and consonants, which may be classified accordingly, or according to their pitch. practical implications for singing and speaking, the learning of foreign languages, the study of dialects, etc. the importance of special attention to those words containing the low-pitched and dark vowels, especially when low in the scale, and when sung _piano_. overtones, and their bearing on the quality of the voice. the carrying power of the voice, determined by the method of its production, is more important than its volume. the value of practice with the use of a mirror, and of the formation of the sounds in practice with a distinctness in excess of the actual needs of the listener. ease is essential to art. chapter xvii. the hearing apparatus and hearing in music. so important are the ingoing sensory messages (impulses) that originate in the ear, as a guide not only in the appreciation of musical sounds but in those movements on which all musical execution, all vocal effects, whether of song or speech, depend, that we think the reader will welcome a chapter on the ear, even though it be no part of the vocal apparatus proper. the essential mechanism used by nature to give us the sensation of sound consists of ( ) a complicated form of nerve-ending; ( ) an auditory nerve leading from, and a continuation, in a certain sense, of, the latter; ( ) nerve tracts and hearing centres in the brain. the whole constitutes a very complicated mechanism, but the principles on which it is constructed may be reduced to a few. mechanical or physical principles, as well as physiological ones, are involved. the entire apparatus has for its purpose the conversion of the vibrations of the air into the vibrations of a fluid, which thus stimulates the end-organ, and brings about those changes in the nerve which result in corresponding changes in the brain, that are associated, in some way we cannot explain, to that state of consciousness we term hearing. complicated as is the auditory apparatus, it can be readily enough comprehended, if the reader accompany the perusal of the text by an examination of the figures introduced. [illustration: fig. . (beaunis). in this illustration parts are exposed to view by the removal of others. the whole of the inner ear lies within bone, which in this figure is cut away. the drum-head (membrana tympani); the eustachian tube, extending from the back of the throat, and opening into the middle ear; the semicircular canals (which are not concerned with hearing, but with the maintenance of equilibrium); the cochlea, (snail-shell), which contains the various parts most essential to hearing, as the "hair-cells," the terminals of the auditory nerve, the latter nerve itself, and several other parts--are well shown. should the eustachian tube be closed owing to swelling of its lining mucous membrane, a certain amount of temporary deafness may result, because, the air within the middle ear (drum) being absorbed, and fresh air not being admitted, the outer air presses against the drum-head uncounteracted, and renders the conducting mechanism too rigid.] anatomists speak of ( ) an outer or external ear, ( ) a middle ear, drum, or tympanum, and ( ) an inner ear, or labyrinth. [illustration: fig. (beaunis). diagrammatic representation of the auditory apparatus. the external, middle, and internal ear are separated by dotted lines. a, the external; b, the middle; c, the internal ear; , auricle; , external auditory meatus; , tympanum (middle ear), with its chain of bones, , , . into it opens , eustachian tube, leading from back of throat; , membrana tympani or drum-head, closing the middle ear off from the external ear. the most important part of the inner ear is , the cochlear canal, in which the "hair-cells" are found, around which latter the final branches of the auditory nerve end. above it is the scala vestibuli and below it the scala tympani, passages filled with fluid. the openings to these canals are closed with membrane. attached to the membrane of the oval opening is the stapes (stirrup). it is thus seen that vibrations communicated to the chain of bones from the tympanic membrane are passed on to the fluid filling the passages (scalæ) of the cochlea, and thus affect the hair-cells, and so the nerve of hearing, and through it the brain. the parts indicated by and are important in the maintenance of equilibrium, but are not concerned in hearing.] the purpose of the _outer ear_ is to collect the air vibrations and convey them to the middle ear, which passes them on to the inner ear, where they produce the vibrations in the fluid therein contained and which affect the end-organ and nerve-endings, and thus initiate the essential physiological processes in the nerve of hearing. it follows that we have an instance of the conversion of one kind of vibrations, those of the air, into another kind, those of fluid, which latter furnish a sufficiently delicate stimulus or excitation of the fine hair-like extensions (_processes_) of the cells known as _hair-cells_, about which the nerves in their final smallest branches wrap themselves. [illustration: fig. (beaunis). two of the bones of the ear (the malleus or hammer and the incus or anvil) enlarged. these small ear-bones have joints like larger ones. the line of conveyance of vibrations is indicated by b a.] when we ourselves hear sounds when under water, we are affected directly by the vibrations of that water; in this case we, in our whole body, represent the hair-cells which are stimulated by the fluid (_endolymph_) which surrounds them. [illustration: fig. (beaunis). the complete chain of bones. the arrows indicate in a general way the direction of the line of transmission of vibrations from the tympanic membrane on to the fluid within the passages of the inner ear.] the external ear, well developed in many of the lower animals, being often highly movable, is practically immovable in man, and is wholly wanting in some animals, as the frog. the circular plate one sees behind the eye of the frog is the drum-head of the middle ear. from the _drum-head_, or _tympanic membrane_, the vibrations, which are now those of a solid, are communicated by a series of very small bones, most beautifully linked together by perfect joints, to another membrane, which closes a small hole in the outer wall of the inner ear. the _middle ear_, it will be seen, is a drum with its stretched membrane like any other drum, and it too has a communication with the exterior air through a tube, the _eustachian tube_, which leads from the drum into the back part of the throat. when one has a cold, the mucous membrane which lines this tube may become swollen or even catarrhal, and be so closed that no air can enter from the throat; the air already within the drum being absorbed, the outer air presses unduly against the drum-head, with the result that the whole conducting apparatus is put more or less out of condition, and a certain degree of deafness naturally results. the tension of the drum-head is regulated by a muscle attached to the bone which is connected with the inner part of this membrane. it is now easy to understand how any unfavorable condition of the throat may affect the ear, or that of the ear influence the throat. in the hearing mechanism of man, the _inner ear_, or _labyrinth_, well so named because of its complexity, is really situated in the inner hardest portion of the "temporal" bone. it consists of a membrane and a bony portion, the former containing the essential mechanism of hearing, the latter being chiefly protective to it. the membranous portion consists of a series of canals communicating with some similarly membranous sacs, the whole being surrounded by and filled with fluid. these latter communicate with an extension termed the _cochlea_, which contains a central canal in which that collection of cells is found which constitutes the _end-organ_, among them the hair-cells, about which the nerve ends. this end-organ in the cochlea may be compared very fitly to the telephone which receives the message, and that portion of the brain where the auditory tract ends, to the telephone at the distant end of the path, the listener there representing consciousness. the auditory path within the brain is long and complicated, there being, in fact, many way-stations through which the message passes before it reaches the final one. the auditory nerve proceeds first to the lowest or hindermost portion of the brain, known as the _bulb_, or _medulla oblongata_; thence a continuation of the nerve tract passes forward to a central region, the _posterior corpora quadrigemina_, then, by a new relay of nerve-fibres, to the highest and most important part of the brain, that most closely associated with consciousness, the _cortex of the temporal lobe_, where there is situated the most important of all the centres of hearing. it will be apparent, on consideration, that "hearing" is a very elaborate result, the outcome of many physiological processes (initiated by physical ones), the initial and final being better understood than the intermediate ones. one asks, with natural curiosity and interest, "is the auditory apparatus of the highly endowed musician different from and superior to that of the individual with little talent for music?" it is not easy to give a short and definite answer to this question. no special examinations of the essential parts of the ears of eminent musicians have been made, so far as we are aware, and as yet few of the brains of this class of men. it is, however, practically certain that there is a brain development peculiar to the born musician, and that this, whatever else it may be, involves a special excellence of the auditory path within the brain, rather than any unusual development of the essential parts of the ear. the individual who is a musical prodigy has, without question, _a more perfect connection_ established between his auditory apparatus, in the widest sense of the word, and those muscular mechanisms employed in the execution of music, whether vocal or instrumental, than is the case with the average man. usually, with this goes a wide series of brain associations or connections, we may presume, between the auditory tracts and other regions, for without this it is difficult to explain temperament and artistic perception. that they are not necessarily associated, however, is clear from the fact that some have a high degree of executive ability and little real artistic development. it must never be forgotten, however, that whatever else music may be, it is essentially and primarily a sensuous experience. the one who enjoys music must feel its sensuous charm, and the artist who furnishes that which is enjoyed addresses himself primarily to our auditory mechanism. executing music is hearing music, and enjoying music is hearing music, though both may involve much more than this, and herein individuals must differ greatly, owing to education, past experience, etc.; but all who have the power to really appreciate music must be capable of the sensuous enjoyment of tones. in this all everywhere find something in common; often that which we enjoy is of the most varied nature. one thing is certain: those connections between the hearing and the motor processes we term singing or playing should be made early in life, if they are to reach that degree of facility and general excellence essential to success. we think there is good reason to begin voice-production early, as well as the practice of an instrument, though we do not maintain that the argument is as strong in the one case as in the other. that the "ear for music" may be well developed, in the sense that one may know perfectly what is correct in time and tune, without the power to execute well, there can be no doubt, as witness the case of many composers, but the reverse does not hold. there can be no doubt that _the nervous impulses that pass from the ear to the brain are of all sensory messages the most important guides for the outgoing ones that determine the necessary movements_. the author would advise every serious student of music to believe in the unlimited capacity of his own ear for improvement. the lack of "ear" of many people is due largely, if not solely, to inattention. indeed, an excess of temperament may be a positive hindrance to musical development, both as regards appreciation and execution, for it may be accompanied by inattentive listening and consequent inadequate hearing. on the other hand, no one should, because he has a good faculty for time and tune and the memorizing of airs, conclude that he is an artist. the one faculty may exist altogether apart from the capacity for the highest art. it is a matter of history that several vocalists now before the public, and who rank in the highest class of musical artists, displayed at one period of their career a lack of perception as to pitch or rhythm that was, to say the least, very discouraging, and which, but for their force of character, would have kept them from ever being eminent. if one have neither ear, temperament, nor artistic perception, he should not waste his energies on musical study--at least, not extended efforts; but if he have the two last, and but a moderate ear, he will do well to try to improve the lower for the sake of the higher qualities. in children the difficulty often is due wholly to inattention. those who would cultivate the speaking voice are frequently discouraged from lack of "ear," and when urged to follow such exercises as have been recommended in this work, complain that they have not the "ear" to do so. to such the author would say, "persevere; believe in your ear; learn to listen--_i.e._, to attend to sounds having musical qualities." besides, it must not be forgotten that in addition to the "ear"--_i.e._, the ability to appreciate relative pitch, tune, and rhythm--there is also the entirely distinct faculty that appreciates the _quality_ of sounds. the latter is really more important for the speaker, who can succeed with a very moderate development of the faculty for time and tune, but to whom the power to appreciate the _quality_ of sounds is essential. no doubt the first and fundamental qualities in the make-up of a musician are the capacities to appreciate pitch and rhythm, but no result worthy the term "artistic" can be produced in which attention is not given to the quality of sounds, hence the technical and artistic should be developed together. the lack of attention on the part of a certain class of vocal teachers to the quality of the tones produced is one of the special defects in the instruction of the day. in the early weeks of vocal training, when the student should intone only before his teacher, the former need not be left without musical culture, and it is for each teacher to give the pupil that training, at this time, which will forestall disgust and impatience at the apparent slowness of his progress. at this time much can be done to cultivate the ear in all its various powers. and the author would like to put in a plea for the development of the _appreciation of music_. whatever difference of opinion there may be as to choral singing, singing in schools, etc., there can be no question that time spent in developing the appreciation of musical art is well spent, and makes for the development and provides for the innocent and elevating sources of enjoyment of a people. if some of the time spent in bad piano-playing were devoted to the development of the power to appreciate and delight in really good music, including the sweet sounds of speech and song, the world would thereby be greatly the gainer. the author would impress on all students of music, and of the voice as used in both singing and speaking, the paramount importance of learning early to listen most attentively to others when executing music; and, above all, to listen with the greatest care to themselves, and never to accept any musical tone that does not fully satisfy the ear. when one considers how much harshness is passed as singing or speaking, by the student, even by those who pose as public singers and speakers, one must often wonder where they keep their ears. as a matter of fact, the ideal listeners are rare, and the critical ear, like a sentinel on guard, is among students, really seldom to be met with, if one extend the term "listening" to mean giving attention equally and in the most critical way, not only to pitch and rhythm, but also to the quality of sounds, the effects of pauses, shading, etc., all of which are perceived through the ear. if such listening requires, as it does, the closest attention, it must give rise to fatigue, so that it is clear that the lengthy practices some undertake are against the plainest laws of physiology and psychology, even if the hearing processes alone be considered; but as we have before shown, there are other reasons why such long-continued exercises as some attempt are in every way unwise; in fact, in the author's opinion, they are in the musical world a great evil under the sun. summary. hearing is finally a psychological or mental condition, a state of consciousness, but is always associated with certain physiological processes, which are initiated by a physical stimulus in the form of waves in a fluid surrounding the hair-cells of the auditory end-organ; which waves may again be traced to the movements of the bones of the middle ear, caused by the swinging to and fro of the drum-head, owing to vibrations of the air produced by a sounding body. the ear is anatomically divisible into external, middle (tympanum or drum), and internal (labyrinth). the outer ear collects the vibrations, the middle ear conducts them, and the internal converts them into a special physiological condition of the hair-cells and the auditory nerve. this condition is communicated to the other links in the anatomical hearing chain, until the highest part of the brain, or cortex, is reached. hearing, from the physiological point of view, is the outcome of a series of processes having their development in a corresponding series of centres, or collections of nerve-cells. the perceptions associated with the ear, in the mind of the musician, are those of the pitch, rhythm (and time), and quality of tones. the loudness of a tone is, of course, recognized by the ear also, but this is hardly a musical quality proper. in reality, like all that belongs to hearing, these perceptions are the result of a series of physiological processes, in which the ear takes an important but not the sole or even the chief part, which is to be referred to the brain. it is practically important to recognize that these various qualities are distinct perceptions, and that the "ear" for relative pitch may exist well developed and the color, clang, or quality of a tone be imperfectly recognized, and the reverse. the most comprehensive ear-training involves attention to each of the above characters of tones, and then uniting them in a musically perfect result. lack of "ear" is often simply want of attention to the characters of sounds. the auditory messages are the most important of all the nervous impulses that reach the brain, for the musician, whether appreciation or execution be considered. they are the chief guides for the outgoing nervous impulses to the muscles. the good executant must, above all, be a good listener. chapter xviii. consideration of general and special hygiene and related subjects. hygiene deals with the laws by the observance of which health is to be maintained and disease prevented; but as such laws must be based on physiological principles, hygiene follows from physiology. accordingly, throughout this work our method has been to point out the correct way as soon as the physiological principle has been laid down, so that the reason for the recommendation made would be obvious. however, it may be well if now some of the more important tendencies, errors, bad habits, and dangers to be guarded against by the singer and speaker be pointed out afresh, briefly, with some additional observations that experience has shown to be of practical importance. hygiene, for all persons, should, in the widest sense, refer to the whole man, his body, intellect, feelings, and will, though the term has usually been restricted to the preservation of bodily health. but, fortunately, it is being more and more recognized that man is a whole, and that one part of him cannot suffer without the others participating, so we shall pursue the broader course, and consider the general welfare of the voice-user as properly coming under consideration. he, being a human being like his fellows, must, of course, observe the same laws for the preservation of his general health as they, but just because he comes before the public, his case is peculiar, and he must, in addition, take special precautions to avoid every form of temporary or permanent disability. there is, of course, much in the life of a public speaker or singer that conduces to health of body and mind, such as the vigorous use of the breathing apparatus, the favorable effect of praise expressed in one way and another, etc., but even with the most successful, all this may be more than counter-balanced by other unfavorable factors. when one considers the necessary travelling, often including night journeys, the late hours, the concentrated efforts essential to success, the uncertainty of the public taste, the rivalries, jealousies, exhaustion, etc., often associated with a public career, it must be clear that no one should embark upon it without counting well the cost. for one with mediocre ability, imperfect training, voice of very limited range, power, and quality, feeble will, an imperfectly developed body, and indifferent health, to enter on a public career is practically to court failure and to ensure disappointment and unhappiness. it is to be remembered that never was the world so exacting of the artist, and never were there so many aspirants to popular favor, so that the competition in the ranks of the actors and singers, at least, is very keen. at the same time, there is room for a certain class of persons--viz., those with good health, excellent physique, first-rate ability, self-control, sound moral principles, perseverance, industry, musical feeling, and artistic insight, with vocal organs trained like the muscles of the athlete, and, in the case of singers, sound musical knowledge and an exacting and reliable ear. considering that the actor, often the public speaker, and the singer are constantly being put under excessive strain, it follows that ( ) such persons should begin with an unusually good physical organization--others can scarcely hope to get into the first class, even with the best abilities; and ( ) because there is a tendency to exhaustion of the body and mind through emotional and other expenditure, the public voice-user must take precautions, on the one hand, to prevent this, and, on the other, to make good his outlay by special means. he needs more sleep and rest generally than others, and he should counteract the influence of unhealthy conditions on the stage or platform by some quiet hours in the open air, all the better if with some congenial friend, sympathetic with his aims, yet belonging, preferably perhaps, to another profession, and who will speak of topics other than those that are ever recurring in the life of an artist. the uninterrupted pursuit of one thing, without the mind and spirit being fed from other springs, can be good for no human being. the specialist who is only a specialist will never reach the very highest point. the artist must seek sources of inspiration and mental nutriment outside of his own line of thought, or he will suffer professionally and in his own spirit. the reader will by this time understand why the author considers that for one who would be an artist to enter on his public career without the fullest mental equipment and vocal training is an exceedingly unwise course. technique should be acquired before an aspirant to success steps on a public stage or platform, and this is exactly what is so seldom done in these days, and why we have so few singers, actors, and public speakers of the highest rank. many, very many, know what they wish to express, and, in a sense, how to express it, but they have neither the formed voice nor the control of that voice by which their ideas are to be embodied. let no one delude himself into the belief that technique will be learned in public; such is rarely, if ever, the case. expression, style, etc., may come to the vocalist or speaker all the more readily if he occasionally goes before the public; but that such may be so, he must first have voice and technique. it is because of the neglect of this training for the acquirement of technique that so many naturally good voices are of little practical use for the public, and this explains why the ranks of the professions are crowded with inferior artists, if, indeed, artists they may be called. the _isolation_ of the dramatic and musical artist from his fellows generally is a great evil. much that society complains of in the lives of artists would never exist but for this isolation, in spite of the fact that the artistic temperament is so moody and so impulsive, so little regardful of ordinary conventionalities. that it is so is partly the fault of society. it is quite true that because of journeying, rehearsals, etc., the travelling artist has little time to meet the members of the community in private life; but this state of things could be mitigated were society and the artists themselves convinced that for any class of people to live in little hives, wholly separated from their fellows, must be unfortunate for them and society. artists as men and women are practically unknown to the world, though their false selves as represented by sensational paragraphs in newspapers are only too familiar to us. it may truly be said of the artist: "be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny." it is within the power of society to alter this, and it should do so. why is it that actors and singers do not prepare themselves by as prolonged and thorough a vocal training as in a past time? considering that there never was a period when there was the same scope for art, never a time when the public was so eager to hear and so able to pay for art, as now, never a period of such widespread intelligence on all subjects, music included, the question is a very pertinent one. we believe there are many factors underlying the technical decadence we must regret. the orchestra has greatly developed, choral singing is common in all countries, and the spirit of the times has changed. so analytical, so refined is our age, that singing sometimes becomes a sort of musical declamation, but, unfortunately, without that power to declaim possessed by the actors and often the opera-singers of a former period. a singer often attempts now to make up by an expressive reading of a song, for technical defects. we must all commend every evidence of intellectuality in music, but this does not imply that we should accept good intentions for execution--performance. let us have every possible development of orchestral music; let every village have, if possible, its choral society, but let none enter it who have not been trained vocally. out of the author's own experience he could a tale unfold of the evil done to the vocal organs by those who have sung in choirs without adequate vocal training. choristers are tempted to reach high tones by a process of their own, without any regard to registers, and with corresponding effects on their throats, some of which imply also lasting injury to the voice itself. in choral singing there is the tendency to lean on certain singers who are natural leaders, with the result that there is little independent listening and individual culture, even if the singer could hear his own voice well, which is not usually the case. the same objections and others apply to class singing in schools, which does little for music, and tends to make slovenly singers. if some of the time given to school singing were taken up in illustrating why certain musical selections are good, and others mere rubbish--in other words, in forming the taste of the nation in the children--a valuable work would be done; but school class singing, as commonly carried out, tends rather to injure than develop voices and good musical taste. we cannot honestly pass by the subject of wagner's music and some of its tendencies. wagner was an intellectual giant among men, and his works are amazingly grand, yet they unfortunately are, in a certain sense, responsible for much bad singing and not a little injury to fine voices. first of all, wagner's operas are, in their present form, too long. to sing these compositions night after night is beyond human powers, even in the case of those of the most perfect musical and technical training. if they were divided into two, and one half sung on one evening and the other on the next, it would be a gain for the public and the artists. it is impossible for even the musically cultivated to absorb and assimilate the whole of such an opera as "siegfried" or "tristan and isolde" in one evening, and it is too much to expect any artist to sing them through without a rest. again, they call for such strong accents, such deep and strenuous breathing, that the artist impersonating a hero or a god or goddess is put to a degree of exertion that is too great for human powers when continued for more than a very moderate period; besides, there is a temptation to a wrong use of the larynx--a forcible _coup de glotte_, or attack--that is exceedingly dangerous, and has injured many voices and ruined others. the man or woman who would sing wagner's greater music dramas should, in addition to a strong physique, be master of a wonderfully perfect technique. these operas should never be attempted by very young singers of either sex, and especially not by very young women. they are for the powerful, the mature, the perfectly trained, the experienced. turning to some special faults, we would warn against the "scoop," the excessive use of the _portamento_, or glide, so common a fault at the present time, and the _vibrato_ and _tremolo_. the two former are musical faults, so we pass them by without further consideration. otherwise is it with the last two faults; they both result from a wrong use of the vocal organs. they are both due to some unsteadiness and lack of control, and, unfortunately, when once acquired, are very difficult to remedy. the unsteadiness may be almost anywhere in the vocal organs, but is usually referable to the respiratory apparatus or to the larynx. a _vibrato_ is the milder form of the evil, and is encouraged, we regret to say, by some teachers, while the _tremolo_ is due to an extreme unsteadiness, and, so far as we are aware, is universally condemned. it is about the worst fault any singer can have. it is evident in some cases only when the vocalist sings _piano_, but mostly in vigorous singing, and often arises from straining, disregard of registers, etc. it may be due to the singer trying to control too large a supply of air, or from bringing a blast to bear on the vocal bands too strong for them. in every case there is lack of adjustment between the vocal bands and the respiratory organs. the remedy must be adapted to the case, but usually the singer must for a time give up the use of the voice in _forte_ singing altogether, and gradually again learn to control his vocal mechanism. associated sometimes with this fault is another, which, indeed, often gives rise to the former--viz., "pumping," or attempting to vocalize after the breath power is exhausted. one should always have enough air in reserve to sing at least two tones more than what is required. it will be observed that good singing and speaking are always physiological--_i.e._, they depend on the observance of well-known physiological principles; we wish we could add, principles clearly recognized by singers and teachers generally. it is to those who do that we would recommend the student of the vocal art to go at the outset of his career, otherwise much time may be lost and possibly much injury done. we distinguish, of course, between the teacher who recognizes physiological principles only practically and the one who does so consciously. the former may be an excellent and safe teacher, though, we think, not so good, other things being equal, as one of the latter type,--as yet somewhat rare. at an earlier period we referred to the important matter of classifying the voice. it often happens that one who is a tenor is trained as a barytone, or a contralto as a soprano, and the reverse, only to discover later that a mistake has been made. if it could become the custom to have vocal consultations among teachers, as medical ones among doctors, the author is convinced it would be well. often a patient is sent a long distance to consult a medical man, and to return to his own physician for treatment based on the diagnosis made. in these instances the doctor consulted is expected to write his views privately to the patient's doctor, and to recommend treatment. why should the same not occur in the vocal teacher's profession? it is considered scandalous in the medical profession to "steal" another physician's patient, and why should not a similar etiquette prevail in the profession now under consideration? the teacher in doubt about a voice might thus obtain the views of another member of his profession, of longer experience, on such a vital point as the classification of a voice, and with satisfaction alike to himself and to his pupil. if the teacher or pupil were not satisfied with the diagnosis, another eminent vocal teacher might be consulted, which would only be following custom in the medical profession. we would again remind the reader that voices are to be _classified by quality_, and not by range, at least not to any appreciable extent. of all persons, the singer should know himself. he must learn his limitations, and the sooner the better. at the outset of his career he may be able to take certain liberties with himself with apparent impunity, but sooner or later he will pay the penalty; so that we recommend him to live with all the care of an athlete in training. however it may be with other men, spirits in every form, tobacco, etc., are not for him. both tend to irritate and relax if not to inflame the throat, not to mention their bad effects on the general health, both psychical and physical. this advice is all the more necessary when one considers the exacting nature of the professional life of the artist. strenuous exertion tends to fatigue and exhaustion, with a natural desire to relieve them by some special means, such as alcohol. to do so is often but to make a beginning of the end. how many bright lights in the dramatic and musical professions have been prematurely quenched through indulgence in the delusive draught! if tonics, sedatives, etc., are to be taken, which should not be a habitual practice, they should be used only under the direction of a medical man, and not self-prescribed. as the speaker and singer must often practise their art in an atmosphere that is far from pure, they will do well to carry out in a routine way some sort of mouth toilet on their return home and the next morning. various simple mouth and throat washes may be used, such as ( ) water with a little common salt dissolved in it; ( ) water containing a few drops of carbolic acid--just enough to be distinctly tasted; ( ) water containing listerine; ( ) either of the last two with the addition of a pinch of bicarbonate of sodium to a teacupful of the fluid, when there is a tendency to catarrh. the use of lozenges in a routine way is not to be commended, and those containing morphia, cocaine, etc., should be employed only under the supervision of a medical practitioner. sometimes, especially in the case of nervousness, a licorice pellet or a particle of gum arabic serves a good purpose in aiding in keeping the mouth moist. for one with a healthy throat the sipping of water is unnecessary, and the habit is one on no account to be learned, for the most admirable effect may be spoiled through the speaker stopping to sip water; there is the fatal and rapid descent from the lofty to the little. it is much more important to avoid eating certain things which interfere with the voice than to take anything to improve it before singing or speaking. each individual should learn just what he can or cannot with safety eat. certain kinds of fruit, cheese, fat meat, pastry, nuts, occasionally even butter, not to mention puddings, etc., must be put on the list of what singers and speakers had better not partake of before a public appearance. but the quantity is quite as important as the quality of the food taken. about one half the usual quantity, at most, and of very simple but nourishing food, is enough for any one who would do himself justice before the public. if blood and energy be drawn off to the stomach by a large meal, it cannot be available for the uses of the artist. moreover, a full stomach pressing up under the diaphragm greatly hampers the movements of this, the most important of all the muscles of breathing. of course, the public singer or speaker should eat after his work is done, of what and how much he can best learn by experience. as the author has felt called upon to condemn the use of alcohol in every form, he should, perhaps, point out that to take a cup of such a mild stimulant as tea or coffee during an interval, in the case of those who feel weary, is generally an unobjectionable, indeed, often a useful, procedure; but the less the artist coddles himself, especially while still young, the better. we would again call attention to one anatomical fact of great importance for the explanation of certain facts of experience--viz.: that the whole respiratory tract, the larynx included, is lined with a _mucous membrane_, which is continuous with that covering the inner surface of the digestive organs. that is to say, the nose, the mouth, the back of the throat, the larynx, the windpipe, the bronchial tubes, the gullet, the stomach and intestines are all brought into structural connection by this common lining membrane. moreover, these parts have to some extent the same nerve supply, and are, in fact, so related that derangement in one region must affect sooner or later, and to a variable degree according to the resisting power of each individual, other related parts. thus it is that a disordered stomach affects the voice, that a cold may affect digestion, that a catarrh of the nose will eventually reach the vocal bands, etc. another principle of wide-reaching importance is that all sorts of _compression_ must, of necessity, be attended by functional disorders, which, if long continued, will result in organic or structural changes implying deterioration of a kind that must be more or less permanent. whatever the cause of compression of the chest or neck, the result is the same: a retention of blood in parts for too long a period--a condition of things which must inevitably be injurious. the tissues are made up of cells, which are the individuals of the bodily community. around these cells are found the smallest of the blood-vessels, the capillaries, between which and the tissues a sort of physiological barter is continually going on, the capillaries handing over oxygen and food supplies from the blood, and receiving waste materials in return, as the blood creeps along at a very slow rate. if, however, in consequence of pressure on a part, the blood be kept back in these minute vessels too long, there is naturally a double evil: first, the food and oxygen supplies fail--they have been used up already--and, secondly, the waste products accumulate in the tissue cells, so that there is a combination of starvation and poisoning--a sort of physiological slum life, with corresponding degradation; so that it is not at all difficult to understand why tight collars, neckbands, corsets, etc., must be unmixed evils, apart altogether from the fact that they so greatly hamper the very movements the voice-user most requires for the successful execution of his task. all sorts of straining or forcing also involve this same evil, known to medical men as _congestion_. the sore throats so common with those who force, owing to methods essentially wrong, or simply to the too vigorous use of methods correct in themselves, are to be traced to the above--_i.e._, to this congestion, which is bad, and bad only. if one who had a naturally sound throat at the outset finds that after vocal exercise he experiences either a soreness or an undue weariness of parts, he should conclude, if he is living under healthy conditions, that the methods he is employing are incorrect, and seek the natural remedy. proper vocal exercise should, in those with healthy vocal organs, always improve them and the condition of the whole man. the author has met those who have been ruined vocally for life by the use of certain methods recommended by would-be professional guides. why should not all who assume the responsibility of guiding speakers and especially singers be required by the state to show that they have not only a knowledge of music and vocal technique, but also at least a moderate amount of practical knowledge of the anatomy and physiology of the vocal organs, with some elementary information on general physiology? if the injury done by incompetent teachers were realized, we feel certain that the above proposition would not be questioned. a common cause of congestion of the digestive organs, with which, of course, other parts sympathize physiologically, is _constipation_, very often the result of insufficient exercise, and injurious in many ways. speakers and singers very generally ride to and from their engagements, so that there is special reason why they should see to it that some time is set aside for general exercise, as walking in the open air, which would of itself work against that tendency to grow fat which is the physical curse that seems to fall on artists above most others. it seems scarcely necessary to point out how important it is for those who propose to take up the life of the stage or the platform to look to hardening themselves against catching cold, by friction of the skin, cold bathing, etc. the use of a sponge-bath of cold salt and water to the upper parts of the body, especially the neck and chest, will prove valuable in many cases, but the enervating effects of hot water should be avoided by all. the remarks made in regard to wagner's music on page have been among the very few to which exception has been taken by my reviewers. to those who disagree with me on the merits of the case i have nothing to say, but some have assumed that the writer was speaking out of pure theory, in real ignorance of wagner's works. i wish to set that class of critics right. i have spent a great many seasons in germany, and have heard wagner's works under a great variety of circumstances, and have heard them also in several other countries. i have also had the opportunity of getting behind the scenes in a way that falls to the lot of few, so i think i am entitled to speak with rather more than the usual authority. my convictions as expressed in the foregoing chapter have in the interval rather strengthened than weakened. i am firmly convinced that it would be in the interests of art, the singer, and the auditor alike, either to shorten these operas, or to produce them in some way which will relieve the continuous strain. it must not be forgotten, either, that the poor overworked and greatly underpaid orchestral player often suffers severely in his nervous system from long continued wagner playing. chapter xix. further treatment of physical and mental hygiene. _stammering_ and _stuttering_ are allied but not identical defects. they require special treatment, the earlier the better. much can be done by the exercise of a little patience and kind consideration, to make the subject of these infirmities feel at ease, and so manifest the defects as little as possible. it is, of course, as a general rule, very unwise to take any notice whatever of such imperfections, as they are thereby made worse. as a rule, they are best treated practically by those who have made this branch a specialty. those who have been badly taught, or who have overworked the vocal organs and, in consequence, may have broken down, are among the most discouraging if they be not the very worst cases that come under the treatment of the physician or vocal teacher. if the throat be out of order, a specialist should be consulted. he will likely enjoin complete rest of the vocal organs, and his advice should be implicitly followed. but usually the time comes when some sort of vocal exercises may be resumed. when this is the case, the choice of a teacher becomes of the utmost importance, more so than in ordinary cases, for further injudicious treatment may lead to the utter ruin of the voice. assuming that medical treatment is no longer or not at all required, we recommend: ( ) that all practices be only _piano_, or, at most, _moderato_, for some time; ( ) that they be of very brief duration at any one period, so as to avoid fatigue; ( ) that they be well within the range of the singer. the same principles apply to speakers who have broken down, whether owing to bad methods or to over-use of the voice. it is most important that strength and facility be gradually gained, and that weariness, not to say fatigue, be strictly avoided. if the general health be good, time, patience, and the utmost care in the application of the above principles, under the direction of an enlightened teacher, will in a large proportion of cases restore the voice for efficient use in at least moderate efforts. of course, much depends on the age, general health, intelligence, etc., of the subject. on the question of the extent to which a singer's range can be safely increased, the greatest difference of opinion exists, and very extreme views have been held. on the one hand are those who almost ridicule the idea of "making" tones, and on the other, those who maintain that the range of all young singers can be increased by proper training. as a matter of fact, there are many singers before the public to-day whose range, either upward or downward, has been increased by many tones, in some cases almost an octave, and these singers are successful artists and sound vocalists; while others have sought to add but two or three tones to their range, and in vain. this is quite intelligible. as a rule, those of the former class have fallen into the hands of very good teachers, while yet young, have had excellent health and well-formed vocal organs, and been patient and attentive students. the acquisition has been gradual, and never forced. we have before said that if a pupil felt his throat the worse for a lesson in vocal culture, there was something wrong: either the method was incorrect in itself, or the practice was continued too long or carried out too vigorously. of course, it is always assumed that the vocal organs are in a normal condition, and the student's health good not only generally but on the day of the practice. it is in every case for the student himself to determine, from his own feelings, whether the attempt to reach a certain tone produces straining, and for the teacher to judge whether this be so, from the appearance of the face of the pupil, the character of the tone, etc. one thing is certain: harm, and harm only, is done by any form of forcing or straining. at the same time, as the athlete increases the height to which he can jump, or the speed with which he can run, even during a single season, it seems illogical to conclude that in no case can a singer safely reach tones that are not originally in his voice--meaning thereby that he is unable to sing them at the outset of his career. this is one of those subjects on which common sense and science unite in admonishing us to test cautiously and to progress gradually, if the purpose is to be achieved with good results for the individual and for art. it is also unwise for a singer to attempt those selections in public the range of which taxes him to the very utmost. they lead to undue anxiety as to success, violate the principle of reserve force, to which reference has several times been made, and may lead to vocal failure, if not to injury to the throat. though it is true that occasionally a song suffers by transposition to a lower key, if the vocalist is determined to sing a composition even slightly beyond his easy range, it is better to resort to it than to risk the possibilities mentioned above and other undesirable ones. everyone who purposes to follow the arduous career of the vocal or dramatic artist would do well to realize early the importance of learning the art of conserving energy, or making the most of all that nature has given him. when a man or woman is small, and has less breath power than some others, it becomes more important that they observe the laws of contrast, rest, etc., in their public efforts. a _forte_ has much the same effect, if it be preceded by darker, quieter tones, as if it were really louder. in like manner, a pause may often serve a very good purpose in preparing the ear of the listener for an effect that should be telling, yet a difficult one for a person of limited physical powers. in reality, all the best art recognizes, mostly unconsciously, the peculiarities of our physical and mental nature. a continuous _forte_, for example, ceases to be a _forte_, in reality, since the ear and the mind weary under it, and all the effect of contrast is lost. as we have more than once said, good art is physiological--in harmony with the laws of the body, as well as of the mind. it follows that each one should study especially how to make the wisest, the most effective, use of his powers, for what is best for one may not be so for another. a singer or speaker, by reason of a voice somewhat small in volume, may seem to be shut out from certain buildings. this need rarely be the case. the artist must simply the more carefully consider how he shall vary his effects, how so use his powers that they shall suffice. a loud voice may be a very bad one for the hearer, and may annoy and weary rather than please. when a building is large, nearly all effects should be increased--_e.g._, all pauses lengthened, the _tempo_ taken a little slower, the contrasts made stronger, etc.,--rather than the volume of tone increased. the method of attack becomes of the utmost importance; all low or soft passages should be sung or uttered with the greatest distinctness, all final letters most perfectly finished. it is especially important for a speaker to be aware of his favorite--_i.e._, most easy and natural--pitch, and also that pitch which best adapts his voice to a certain building. many forget that sound does not, in reality, travel very rapidly, and that allowance must be made for this, so that one tone shall not break on the ear before another has had time to be attended to--one idea to be grasped before another is presented. of all things pauses are of the greatest importance, to the listener, that he may apprehend the ideas presented, and to the speaker, that he may have time to take breath and a brief rest, and also seize the opportunity to readdress himself, so to speak, to his auditors, by the use of another accent, pitch of tone, or whatever he deems most apt to his purpose. speakers who make suitable pauses with intention (not from lack of ideas), or from an artistic instinct, give pleasure, as well as effect their intellectual purpose, for the listener also gets his moments for rest, perceives readily what is meant, and enjoys the purely sensuous in the art far more than when the speaker's utterance rushes on like a torrent. all this applies to a certain extent to the singer, though it is but very inadequately observed--we must say, however, much better than at a former period, when "ranting," on the stage especially, was a very common fault. in an earlier chapter attention was given to the precautions to be taken before a public appearance, especially by those who are inexperienced; and we would again emphasize the fact that those who have the best training, and have made the most perfect special preparation for the coming event, are least likely to suffer from that great disturber, nervousness; and when they are somewhat tense, the well-disciplined often recover rapidly, and frequently astonish their friends by the success of their first appearance. we strongly recommend all who can to take rest on the day preceding and following a hard evening's work, and preferably, in summer, in the open air. a quiet walk in a park, where one may think or observe or not, as he feels inclined, is an excellent thing to do, either before or after a strenuous artistic effort. if the battery is to be well charged, it must not be discharged even partially before the right moment. amateurs and the inexperienced are particularly apt to neglect such precaution for success, and to fritter away their energies by attention to details, possibly trivial ones, up to the last moment. happy is he who, well prepared for his task, free from worries, unmoved by envy, jealousy, or undue ambition, can step before the public resolved to do his best for art, and who, having done it, can rest in the satisfaction that he has contributed something to the innocent and ennobling enjoyment of his fellows, and so has helped to advance those of his own generation; caring little for either the flatteries of admirers or a criticism that may be ignorant, unjust, or malignant, but feeling that the best reward is the approval of his own conscience, knowing that "art is long, and life short." chapter xx. review and revision. all the most important truths of any subject may be stated in a brief space. the author proposes to make this final chapter one of a restatement of the essentials of the subject in the light of our present-day knowledge, and with a distinct relation to practice. the object of the speaker or singer is to produce certain sounds which shall as easily as possible convey to the listener his own state of mind. it follows that he must have a clear idea of these sounds, that he must hear them mentally prior to their utterance; in other words, the psychological must precede the physiological. voice production for the purpose of speaking and singing implies a coöperation of the psychic and the physiological, a co-ordination of processes that are psychic, and physical, somatic or physiological. it is well to regard the subject from as many points of view as possible, and to consider the various ways in which the same truth may be stated. stress must be laid on the idea of co-ordination, for processes may be independently satisfactory yet fail to lead to the desired result if they are not connected, harmonised or co-ordinated. the latter is the better term because it suggests a certain order of progress. as a matter of fact, first the psychic, then the physiological. the idea may be clear, yet from a physical defect, as in stammering, the result does not follow, though this physiological imperfection in movement may itself be the result of a psychic condition and generally is so. a clearer case is that of paralysis of the vocal organs. the ideas to be expressed may be perfectly clear in the mind yet impossible of expression. the defect is at the distal end of the combination--_i.e._, in the physical, somatic or bodily part of the process to express the same idea by the use of different terms. the consideration of conditions of defect or pathological states may make normal psychological and physiological ones clearer, as has been shown by the above illustrations. the practical importance of the co-ordination of processes is very great. it is not possible for one born deaf to speak because the necessary mental or psychic conditions for co-ordination do not exist--_i.e._, there is no sound in the mind to be expressed--not because there is any serious anatomical defect. in like manner the student of singing will produce no better tone than he has in mind no matter how much he practices vocalization. it follows, therefore, that the psychic state of the student should be kept in advance of his actual powers of execution. this he will most successfully do by listening to the best artists either directly or if this be impossible by hearing their gramophone records--all this in addition to the best the teacher can do for him by the correction of faults, giving him illustrations of better tone by his own efforts, etc. if the student has the opportunity of hearing himself by means of a phonographic record, he should not fail to do so. no one ever hears himself as others hear him. as the mind and the brain are always associated in thought and feeling; in other words, in psychic processes, and these latter find expression chiefly through movements, in one sense a study of vocalization may be considered a study of movements. these are always brought about by the use of several muscles which act together for a definite end--_i.e._, they are co-ordinated. as such movements generally involve many muscles and to be effective must be exact and under perfect control, much practice is necessary, though "much" should have reference rather to the clearness of the mind in reference to what is to be attained and the means of accomplishing it, rather than to the amount of time spent over the actual performance. we may confidently assert that technique or the physical side of putting the ideas into execution, which is simply making certain movements, is successful largely in proportion to the perfection of the psychic processes involved. a clear head should precede the moving hand, or functioning vocal organs. the student should think technique before and after its actual execution. this is even yet, in spite of a great advance in recent years, the weakest part of the student's method of work. all that we know of science as well as the results of all rightly directed practice emphasizes the importance of this central truth. assuming that the psychic condition is satisfactory for the production of a definite tone--_i.e._, that it is heard mentally, what follows before it is actually produced, before it becomes a tone from the physicist's point of view? what is the chain of physical, somatic, bodily or anatomical (to use several words that express similar but slightly different aspects of the same main idea) connections involved, and what is the nature of the physiological processes; in other words, what are the parts of the body involved and how do they act? this will be clearer if we first consider the mechanism concerned and its functions in a general way. the instrument which is played upon, which finally gives rise to the tone, may be spoken of as that connected series of cavities for which we have no single term but which are generally named the resonance chambers when regarded from the physicist's point of view. to the musician they are the instrument, to the physiologist and anatomist a set of chambers communicating with each other. plainly all the rest of the vocal mechanism exists for them, and too much stress cannot be laid on this fact. however excellent the state of training of the part below them this is of no avail except in so far as it can affect these resonance cavities. how is this instrument played upon and how are these cavities made actually into resounding chambers? in the answer to this, in the recognition of the relationship of the three distinct parts of the vocal apparatus lies the one great fundamental conception of the manner in which tone is produced. to understand this clearly is to comprehend in its main outlines the whole subject of voice production in a scientific way. before a tone is heard vibrations of the atmospheric air must reach the ear. these are set up by the vibration of the air within the resonance chambers, and this again is effected by the mechanism below them--_i.e._, by the movements of the vocal bands of the larynx which are due to the blast of air emanating from the lungs, this itself being brought into being by the movements of the chest, using the term in the widest sense, thus including the diaphragm, etc. breathing has for its object so far as phonation is concerned no other purpose than to so affect the vocal bands, that the resonance chambers really do resound. the question is how is this breathing best accomplished so that the instrument shall be most efficiently played upon? we cannot alter the anatomical structure of the instrument appreciably, but we can improve the functioning of the several parts of the whole apparatus. breathing can be improved as regards power and control. more can be done with less expenditure of energy than originally if there be judicious training. how shall we train? as the outgoing stream of air alone affects the vocal bands, it is clear that we must aim to so apply and regulate this outflow that the desired result shall follow from the least possible expenditure of energy. how the air is got in is important only in relation to its expenditure. but the easier the supply is furnished the better. this law of the conservation of energy is one of the greatest importance, for all beings have but a limited supply of energy and our problem must ever be how best to husband this as a wise man should study how best to spend his limited income. one must not only consider what is called for in ordinary conversational speaking, or in singing in a small room, but also when the greatest possible efforts are demanded. in all cases when movements are concerned, indeed whenever activity of any kind psychic or physiological is involved the _law of habit_ should be borne in mind--_i.e._, one should so think and do that a habit may be established, for a habit implies, when a good one, that there is economy of both mental and bodily energy. the aim of all training is to establish good habits--ways of doing things which will leave the subject with more capital to invest so to speak, as he wastes less. it follows that the same methods should always be used in trying to attain the same end. there are few subjects of equal importance so little considered by students of music in a conscious intelligent way. a clear conviction as to the foundation for close adherence to certain methods of doing things is an invaluable mental asset for any student. the whole subject of breathing has been so fully considered in previous chapters--indeed more or less in all parts of this work--that it is not necessary to go into much detail now. the investigations of physiologists in the internal have only emphasised the author's teaching on this subject. the present position of the subject may be stated thus: ( ) in inspiration the whole chest is enlarged, this involving the descent of the diaphragm. ( ) the amount of mobility is much greater in the lower half of the chest. ( ) this lower half of the chest and the diaphragm act together, constituting a special mechanism of great importance. ( ) the abdominal muscles discharge a coöperative function. it follows that the advice of a present day famous tenor to "breathe low" is sound. nevertheless, it must not be forgotten that inspiration begins above and that the upper chest has its functions also. it is not merely a region of support for the lower mechanism, important as this function is. the terms "abdominal" and "diaphragmatic" respiration have led to misunderstanding. neither the abdominal muscles nor the diaphragm ever act alone in normal respiration, though they are important coöperative factors. breathing exercises should be based on broad views of the subject, and no part of the respiratory mechanism should be neglected. small an organ as is the larynx it is through it the energy of the expiratory act is transmitted effectively or the reverse to the all-important resonance chambers. this should be so done that there is no waste; in other words, that there be perfect co-ordination between the breathing and the laryngeal mechanism. the vocal bands must be so related in function to the expiratory mechanism that the outgoing blast of air shall be as effective as possible. there must be no waste of power--_i.e._, of the expiratory blast through escape of air that accomplishes no purpose. the blast must be so applied to the vocal bands, or, in other words, they must be so adapted to the blast that there is no waste of energy. if the bands approximate a little too late there is waste of breath power. the bands must further so beat the air of the resonance chambers as to get the greatest possible result with the least possible expenditure of energy. as all these co-ordinations imply the action of many muscles in a related way, it is plain that intelligent and prolonged training is necessary; and if our scientific knowledge had no other result than to establish such a conviction on a sure basis it would be well worth while; but it is a light unto the feet of the student and teacher at every step, only it must be a clear light, not one seen through a mental haze. if there be failure the fault must not be set down to science but to ourselves. it is ever to be borne in mind that when anything is done in the right way not only is there no pain, unpleasant feeling or evil after-effects, but when real skill has been attained through training, the result is accomplished with a sense of ease and all the accompanying feelings are agreeable. the singer need not know that he has a throat by any disagreeable reminder. at the same time a function may be correctly discharged but continued too long, so that weariness or positive fatigue with some evil consequences may follow. fatigue always implies more or less poisoning of the system. of the resonance chambers, the mouth cavity, the pharyngeal cavity and the naso-pharynx, which may both be regarded as a part of the mouth cavity, and the nasal chambers, the latter may be considered the least variable in shape; nevertheless they can, by means of the soft palate, be to a large extent shut off from the other parts of this series of chambers. the means by which the size and shape of the resonance chambers can be varied are chiefly the soft palate and the tongue, the latter being of the greatest importance. the changes in the shape of the mouth cavity necessary for the formation of vowels are due chiefly to the movements of the tongue, and the tongue is more largely concerned in the utterance of consonants than any other moveable part of the upper voice mechanism. for practical ends it is important to realize that one speaks with the tongue; and if one believed that everything depended on this organ, other parts--including the outer mouth or lips merely to be kept out of the way--the result would on the whole likely be gain. in the formation of vowels the result may be good when the lips take but the slightest active part, and the student is advised to practice vowel formation without the use of the lips. he is likely to use them enough in any case provided he ensures the formation of pure vowel sounds, and people seem to have an extraordinary facility for over-doing the use of lip movements, for getting the teeth in the way and thus spoiling tone, that was begun well, before it has escaped from the mouth. it may be observed that those who get their living on the streets by the use of the voice, and who use the voice much and often speak rapidly, and in spite of this are heard well, so construct their words that the lips are not seen to move to any appreciable extent except as the lower jaw moves. the lips seem to be always apart. it is not the amount of movement that is important but the kind of movement, especially its rapidity. muscular efforts for the production of consonants should be neat, decisive, sharp, rather than held ones, which tend to spoil the word as a whole. as a rule, one is safe in holding the vowel as long as possible and in making the time dwelt on the consonant as short as possible--_i.e._, consistent with distinct and musical utterance. the same applies to singing with even greater force. in speaking especially short pauses not printed in the text may be made to great advantage, and this is often better than dwelling on consonants. the mouth of the speaker and still more that of the singer should not attract the attention of the listener, so the less movement of the lips of a kind readily open to observation, the better. besides such movements being unnecessary are a waste of muscular and nervous energy. singers are not warranted in departing to any appreciable extent from the pronunciation of words laid down as standard for speakers--_e.g._, "shall" should not be sung as "sholl," and in such a word as "motion," the final syllable should not be made equally important with the first one. singers should observe the laws of a good elocution; in other words, such treatment of the language of the song as an approved reader would employ. the author would go so far as to say that no singer should appear in public till he can utter every syllable as he sings so that it is readily recognised by the listener. at present such is rarely the case even with the best vocalists. all prospective vocalists should study utterance by the speaking voice first and continue it when the study of singing has been begun. the words of every song, etc., should be mastered in all respects before they are sung. as the degree of success in singing or speaking depends so far as technique is concerned on a series of co-ordinations the condition of both the psychic and bodily mechanism as determined by training and the general health of the individual is of great importance; and it is not to be forgotten that the mind as well as the body is to be considered in all questions of hygiene. index. a abdominal muscles, acoustics, adam's apple, adductors, air, complemental, quantity of, in lungs, residual, supplemental, tidal, amateurs, american speech, americans, pitch of, antagonists, anatomy, art, , artist, isolation of, artistic, perception, temperament, arytenoid cartilages, aspirates, attack, , , , best tests of a good, good, , auditory messages, auto-laryngoscopy, , , , b "backward" production, bel canto, break, breath, , control of, , exercise for, , in phonation, manner of using, , stream, , , breathing, - , , abdominal, clavicular, , deep, diaphragmatic, , exercises, mechanism, control of, method of, , nose, c cartilage of santorini, wrisberg, cells, chest, , , cavity of, complete control of, position of, in singing, in speaking, children, public appearance of, register of, choral singing, choristers, circulatory system, clergyman's sore-throat, cold, a, , prevention of, color, composers, consonant, a, , consonants, , , , - mouth positions of, - corsets, evil effects of, coup de glotte, - , cramming, cricoid cartilage, , thyroid, , membrane, curwen, d dialects, , diameters, diaphragm, , , , e ear, , , , connection with mouth cavity, drum-head of, external, purpose of, for music, lack of, , inner, , middle, , musical, outer, purpose of, ease, , english, speech, epiglottis, eustachian tube, execution, , exercises, - , practical, expiration, expiratory blast, , , , , current, , explosives, expression, f falsetto, high, , in males, , "feeling-tone", food, "forward" production, fundamental principles, - application of, - tone, g garcia, manuel, , , german language, speech, germans, pitch of, glide, glottis, , , , , , in barytone voices, bass voices, contralto voices, mezzo-soprano voices, tenor voices, ligamentous, h head, position of, hearing, , - difference in animals, highest limit of, lower limit of, helmholtz, hygiene, , , , , - hyoid bone, , i illustration of principles, , impulses, inhibitions, inspiration, , , intonation, , , correct position for good, italian language, k knowledge, principle of, l larynx, , - , , , anatomy of, as a musical instrument, change in size of, control over, difference in size, growth of, in action, in singing and speaking, muscles of, , of the male photography of, physiology of, ventricle of, vibrations of, whole, laryngoscope, , , ligamentous glottis, lips, lungs, , lymph, m mackenzie, sir morell, , , mara, madame, range of, marcato production, marchesi, madame, teaching of, men, register of, messages, auditory, methods, correct, , faulty, middle production, midriff, see diaphragm mind, mirror, use of, mouth, as a resonance chamber, resonator, cavity, respiration, toilet of, movements, muscles, , abdominal, muscular action, mechanism, movements, music, appreciation of, intellectuality in, intelligence in, interpretation of, musical artist, ear, prodigy, faculty develops early, faults, sounds, practical range of, tones, musician, fundamental qualities of, n nasal chambers, , , nasality, nerve-cells, nervous centres, impulses, , system, nervousness, neuro-muscular mechanisms, , , processes, system, new language, learning of, noise, o open mouth, , , ordinary speech, overtones, , p palate, cleft, hard, , soft, , , , phonation, , breath in, example of, physics, principles of involved, physiological considerations, - teachings, , piano production, pillars of the fauces, pitch, , , , favorite, portamento production, practical considerations, practice, , - best time to, , by wrong method, for sustained tone, methods of, puberty, at, , in boys, , in girls, public singing, age to begin, speaking, pumping, q quality, , , r r and s, interval between, reed, long, short, reflex action, reflexes, associated, protective character of, , sets of, register, change in, , chest, definition of, in female voices, of basses and barytones, of tenors, registers, - behnke on, , , garcia on, mackenzie on, , , madame seiler on, , , mandl on, resonance chambers, , , - , , , , , , , , in sounding bodies, of musical instruments, , resonants, resonator, respiration, , , , forced, hygiene of, mouth, respiratory centre, , , efficiency, organs, system, tract, s science, scripture, prof., seiler, madame, , , selections in public, sensations, , , , septum nasi, singer, purpose of, range of, singing, choral, class, fortissimo, good, in schools, song, elements of, - soprano, highest tones of, light, sound, , - , , quality of, , tyndall on, volume of, , , sounding body, speaker, purpose of, speaking, good, speech, elements of, - organs of, purity of, sphincter action, staccato production, stammering, stop-closure, straining, , straw bass, stuttering, style, swell, , t technique, , , , , , , teeth, temperament, tenors, throat mirror, sore, thyro-arytenoideus, , hyoid membrane, thyroid cartilage, , timbre, tone, , , carrying power of, color of, ground, head, piano, pitch of, production, , - quality of, , , , the sustained, volume of, tones, head, highest, lower, quality of, timbre of, upper, tongue, , , , control of, influence of, tonsils, , trachea, tremolo, , , tuning fork, u uvula, v vibrations, , , , vibratives, vibrato, vital capacity, vocal athlete, vocal bands, , , action of, false, true, , , , vibrations of, cords, false, madame seiler on, true, methods, physiology, - training, early weeks of, vocalises, vocalist, ideal, vocalization, , voice, , breaking of, brightening the, carrying power of, darkening the, even, harsh, head, in females, in ill health, loud, placed, position in use of, production, , small in volume, user, , , exercises for, well placed, voices, classification of, , injured, vowel, a, purity of, sounds, , , vowels, adaptation of, to ideas, and consonants, , dark, formation of, - low-pitched, mouth positions of, perfect sound of, pitch of, , , quality of, w wagner, whispering, , women, register of, [illustration: image of the book's cover] seed thoughts for singers. by frank herbert tubbs, _musical director, new york vocal institute_. [illustration: colophon] new york, frank h. tubbs, west d street. . _copyright, , frank h. tubbs._ preface. there are times when one feels that he must turn from himself and receive suggestion, if not direct instruction, from some one else. originating thought is more difficult than is the taking of other thought. by delving below the thought received we learn to originate. it is not necessarily an admission of weakness, that we turn to another, for busy life uses up our mental energy and throws us into mental inactivity. it is at such times that we turn to books and teachers. thought is a substance which, as such, is only in our day being fully investigated. it is the expression of an idea and is the direct cause of all action. the slightest movement is made possible only through thought on perceived or unconscious mental activity. the more thoroughly directed actions are the expression of considered thought. habit and movement by intuition are expressions of undirected thought. changing from the latter condition to that of planned or considered action makes all action stronger and more definite. the thinking man becomes the leader of men. "seed-thoughts" are such as produce other thoughts. hardly have we reached the realm of ideas. it is a step--not long, yet well-defined--from thought to idea. this little volume does not propose to take that step. it is content to stop, in all modesty, at that place. its suggestions are sent out to busy teachers and students to lodge in mind as plantings in good mental soil. that they will take root, spring up and bear fruit, is fondly hoped. what the harvest of thought in others may be is idle to speculate upon, but the hope exists that there may be two or three times the amount used in planting when all shall have been gathered in. in this hope the "seed-thought" is sent on its mission. west d street, new york. index. chapter i.--success. chapter ii.--desultory voice practice. chapter iii.--alere flamman. every one can sing, ; sustain perfectly, ; care of body, ; friends can help, ; renew thought, ; speaking and singing, ; associates, ; purity of method, ; mental recovery, ; profession or trade, ; heart and intellect, ; time ends not, ; power of thought, ; nature seldom jumps, ; be perfect, . chapter iv.--perfect voice method. chapter v.--a paper of seeds. analyze songs, ; fault finding, ; recover from mistakes, ; songs for beginners, ; criticism, ; wait for results, ; all things are good, ; little things affect, ; musical library, ; change of opinions, ; reputation comes slowly, ; study poetry, ; mannerisms show character, ; provide for the young, ; there are no mistakes, ; regularity, ; assert individuality, ; educing, . chapter vi.--cuneus cuneum trudit. vocal tone, ; true art is delicate, ; words and tone should agree, ; preparation for teaching, ; experience, ; before an audience, ; come up higher, ; crude voices express no emotion, . chapter vii.--ambition. chapter viii.--music and longevity. chapter ix.--activity. chapter i. success. _"i am what i am because i was industrious; whoever is equally sedulous will be equally successful."_ =bach.= _"to steer steadily towards an ideal standard is the only means of advancing in life, as in music."_ =hiller.= seed-thoughts for singers. i. success. a few decades ago a clumsy, lank, raw-boned boy roamed over the hills of the state of ohio. he was not marked with the talent of many, nor was he noted for anything in particular except, perhaps, an aptness in "doing sums." bare-footed, and with scanty clothing, he appeared at a school in a village near his home and begged admission. at first he was refused. persistence overcame the opposition and he entered, becoming in a short time by his application, the leading spirit in the school. the course of study there being completed, he went to an office across in delaware as a clerk. that year, the representative to congress from delaware, when about to appoint a youth to enter the naval academy at annapolis, announced a competitive examination. the country lad competed and secured the prize. friends whom he had made raised funds for the necessary uniforms. at the end of his course a good appointment in the navy followed. visits to various countries gave him command of three languages. a change to shore duty permitted him to study law. at a recent courtmartial trial at brooklyn he served as advocate for the government so acceptably that he has been offered and has accepted, membership in one of the largest law firms in new york. the change from the rough lad to the cultured advocate indicates success. on a bench in an old-fashioned shoe shop sat a young man working at his trade. a singing teacher, passing along, noticed the rich voice of the young man, singing as he worked. the teacher inquired where he sang in church and if he sang in public. learning that the young man sang no-where, had had no instruction or education, and lacked even the clothes necessary to a respectable appearance, he interested himself in the youth and lived to see him become the leading oratorio basso of america. success! you will say these two had great natural gifts, all their faculties, and had friends. another case: a boy at six, was left as a result of scarlet fever, stone blind. nor has he since seen a ray of light. a necessary faculty to success gone, is it? to-day that young man is one of the best musicians and singers; getting $ , for his choir singing. success. there is within each and every one _that ability_ and _prime element_, which, properly commanded and developed, compels success. but few understand themselves or realize the power within them. without comprehension of what is within, no start toward success can be made. a reason for absence of comprehension lies in the fact that but one side of self is ever seen, and that side is the grosser one. the body--a head, a trunk, arms and legs. these we see with our physical eyes and call the object, man. we incline to think if these parts are comely, well shapen, strong, beautiful, the possessor may march on to success. "trust not to appearance." were the body the root of all things, or of especial worth, the race would be to the swift, the fight to the strong. but that seen, felt, heard, is not the real self. within the body, as a dweller and a motive power, is the ego, the real self. it is that and that only which can be developed and which possesses those attributes, compelling, bye and bye, success. it is that which must, to some degree, be understood. _be the body what it may_, the real self has the power of expression and improvement. that real self will be spoken of as the ego, and its power considered. there enters into existence at birth or early in life an indefinable something. we term it soul, spirit, mind. when we meet or associate with a person, in a short time we recognise that mind. at first we may notice the body or even the dress and be influenced by it. in time we see back of that outward covering and see the mind behind it. after, we forget the body in the acquaintance with the mind. a homely person becomes illumined with new life. a beauty loses attraction. we have learned to know the ego in our acquaintance. that ego we come to know as all there is of the acquaintance. a dozen bodies in the dissecting room of the medical college are almost exactly alike. more alike than are the suits of clothes cast off last year by a dozen men. the ego from a dozen men will have small point of resemblance. the ego has so many characteristic elements that it makes possibility of development, throughout the years allotted to man while passing over the earth's crust, _into_ anything. the body is the home of the ego and the tool for its development and action. train the body to ability to respond to the demands of the ego, and keep it healthful, and no more can be done with it. for now nothing more need be said of the body. in speaking of the cause of non-success, limited success or disaster, reference to it will be made. attributes of mind lead always in the direction of progress. ego, mind, real self, is god within us. "he breathed in his nostrils the breath of life and man became a living soul." that "breath of life" is god. that cannot tend downward. the attributes of god are the attributes of the ego. love, thought, sympathy, ambition, helpfulness, desire for refinement, culture, expansion--these are such attributes. is any mind lacking these? if we say yes, look within ourselves and see if they are lacking in us. accord the same faculties or attributes of mind to each of our fellow men. these attributes cultivated will cause growth of the ego as surely as it is that god liveth and we are in him. but this growth makes the ego greater and by its reaching out after the things of the world and taking them to itself, produces that which we term success. understand, then, the ego. grow it. reach and possess. these attributes are the forces within each and these forces are the elements of success. but, asks one, what is the bearing of this on our study and on our singing. it has been plain to me as a teacher, and it grows stronger every year, that all success in singing arises from a comprehension of the ego within us, and the cultivation of these attributes bearing directly upon singing and music. three only of those attributes may be considered now. first,--ambition. what would you become? yes, a musician and singer. consult one who knows your body better than you and enough of your mind to judge well, and if he says you may become one, plan your life work to making your ambition gratified. aim high. but few persons lack the capacity of singing well. the goal of most is that, to sing well. at home only, it may be. for friends, and for self-pleasure. others would become professional artists. aim at the highest and best. no ambition is too high and, provided we will cultivate the ego, no ambition will remain ungratified. do not be modest in expectancy. nothing is too good or too high, too great or too noble for the god within us. therefore plan large things. _second_--thought. having planned a broad campaign and having resolved on faithfulness, bend the thought toward the result. now, thought is not the subtle nonentity we let ourselves consider it. the text of a book recently examined is, "thoughts are things." thought is an emanation of the ego; a messenger of the mind. we shoot thoughts out by the thousands and millions. generally we fly them at random. if they strike a mark we gain a result. stop shooting them at random, aim correctly, hit the mark each time and each thought brings a result. pure thought, the thought from the ambitious ego, is upward, and when centered, concentrated on the plan which ambition has prompted, it carries that plan onward--upward--to the end, _success_. concentration of thought, say you? do we not have it? let me ask you to fix the thought on one object five seconds. tear this paper slowly from end to end and think of nothing else while doing it. probably the thought during the five seconds will embrace a dozen things besides the act of tearing. of what paper is made, how far apart the lines are, be the texture fine, how much does it cost, some other paper bought last week, where you bought it, the salesman who served you, what a frightful rainy day that was, how you caught cold and what a scolding you got at home for being out--a long way from the act of tearing. the first thought is lost. concentrate. acquire the habit of concentration. in nothing more than in thinking should we say, "do one thing at a time." concentration of thought makes steady growth of the plan of ambition's suggestion and moves it on to success. _third_--expression. every growth produces another. emerson says in substance that the end of every act is but the beginning of another. it used to be said that if a man made $ , he was sure to become rich--meaning that the money invested and reinvested, and added to by constant earning, would surely bring wealth. every growth of attribute of mind, be it of those mentioned or of others, develops possibilities of further growth. love, a powerful attribute of the ego, first circles in the home, then expands into the circle of friends, then reaches the business, society, the world. one begins by caring for the want of a hurt bird or other pet. he ends by raising and healing mankind. one quietly slips a few pennies into the hand of an unfortunate. he ends by being a philanthropist. one speaks a kind word. he ends by raising the fallen. these, you see, touch upon sympathy, helpfulness. each attribute expands. have you followed? isn't this true? how, then, about desire for refinement? if the others expand, will not that? a noble thought, an association with the pure in art, and beauty in poem, story, song, sky, flower, but leads us to another even more beautiful. each touch of beauty, of docility, of refinement, expands that line of our ego, and we feel ourselves raised, drawing nearer and nearer that great mind, and keeping us more and more in that grace which passeth all understanding. the end _must_ be success in our plan. mental growth means more power to grasp and wrest from circumstances and the world itself, successful prosecution of the plan which ambition framed. successful prosecution means ultimate success. in mind i hear some one say, this is good theory and a beautiful picture. what of it is practical enough for my mind. let us turn for a few minutes to a darker side and then again to the brighter, and see if a practical word does not exist for each. what prevents success, and is there false success? a few minutes ago i spoke of the bodies which the ego inhabits. those bodies possess attributes and faculties. st. paul said once that he would be out of the body and be in the spirit; meaning, as i believe, that he would rather live in the ego, and not be hindered by the body. the body must be fed and clothed. it has appetites. appetite grows, requiring more delicacies, higher spiced and richer food, and perhaps more food. clothing takes much attention, and develops pride and vanity. has not each said many a time, "if i but had time to attend to study and did not have to attend to my clothes, my food, and take the time to earn money for them, i could do so much"? true, but the body is here and if these things are not done, the ego would have no home in which to stay. the care of the body is necessary. cannot, however, even these necessary demands be somewhat reduced for the sake of attending to the ego within, more fully? if not, cannot the appetite and the pride, which, after all, give no satisfaction when all is done, be so held in check by care and reasonableness that the demands of body will not grow upon us? after all, those necessary demands of body, grown abnormal, or into the unnecessary, are not so bad as other attributes of body. laziness! light gossip! fretting! uncleanness! disease! these things _can't_ be part of the ego, for the real man is the "breath of life"--god. they must be of body. they are the things which play havoc with our time, our energy, our thought. it is a commonly accepted belief that man must be now and then on the sick bed. that commonly-accepted belief is slowly but surely disappearing before the fact that the body only becomes diseased as it is neglected, overfed or attacked by bacillæ. if a plant dies we look for the worm at its root, or the insect on the leaf. if it has had good soil, earth and sun, we expect it to flourish. the body is the same material--dust. attend it, not abuse it, and except from contagion it will serve us without disease. solomon said, "know thyself." maybe he meant know to care for the body. when this is done the ego is allowed its chance to go to success. without it, the body, full of appetite, pride, hatred, laziness, envy, fretfulness and disease, weighs with compelling force, the ego down to earth. instead of success follows failure. emancipate the ego from the body before even planning. this body and this alone can cause failure. a success arising from a pretty face, a good figure, graceful dancing, agile singing and trifling speech is false success and is worse than failure. how about circumstances and their influences? surroundings. they surely effect us. yes, but just so surely as the ego throws off the lower self, within the body, and resolves to rise, just so quick will the circumstances and surroundings begin to change. just so fast as the ego develops its attributes just so fast will appropriate circumstances and surroundings for its further growth open. like begets like. water seeks its level. seek low things on bodily planes and low friends will surround you. like is with like. raise yourself a peg and you will find those with whom you can follow. your old associates will not go with you, and some will call you mean and cry, "come back," and try to pull you back. bid them adieu and go higher. _new_ surroundings are there and will make a place for you in them. the past becomes a stepping stone and if you have cleared the ego of your own body, you will rise again. like draws like. the new friends, the new town, the new music, the new activity will lend you their aid to go higher. clear yourself at each step of the weight brought on by body and circumstances will seem different. "god helps him who helps himself." those who would pull back are by our very inertia cast off. we rise to success. the thousand things which might be well said in connection with the subject must be left. recapitulation and application to the individual singing student show these: st. plan, and concentrate thought on its execution. d. cultivate the real self and not permit the shell or body to dominate. d. by that command of the self, win friends and compel success. that which conduces most toward success is even disposition and geniality. these grow into kindly independence which develops for us experience. how long, ask you, will it take to become an artist? no one knows. two minds differ--in fact, no two are alike. a few months suffice to make the crudest student an adept singer; or rather, is time enough to make him sing as well as his mind wishes. from that time on the voice grows better only as the mind grows and comprehends how to further use the voice. so, then, as soon as one can sing so as to acceptably please friends, it is a duty which the pupil owes himself to sing for those whom he pleases. the effort gives him experience and prepares him to meet the next circle. as the ability grows, seek to sing before greater artists, and with the best singers. the time will come--it may be one year, two years, three years, or even more--when it is best to go before the best artists of the world and secure their commendation and their co-operation (silently it may be) to further for you the prosecution and completion of your pre-arranged plan regarding your music. what matters it how long this takes. life is, if you are using it aright, a perfection of a plan of existence which will end only when we pass over the river. a portion, more or less long, used in making a musician and an artist, is but a part of the whole, and a development of the talent lent us by the good father, and which we, by our effort, eventually return to him, added to, and made beautiful because of the heavenborn art--music--which we have absorbed to ourselves. nor is this all, for in the development of our own talent we have carried the whole world unconsciously upward nearest the pure, the beautiful and the true. chapter ii. desultory voice practice. "_nothing should be done without a purpose._" =aurelius.= "_music is never stationary; successive forms and styles are only like so many resting-places--like tents pitched and taken down again on the road to the ideal._" =liszt.= ii. desultory voice practice. european schools and teachers stand aghast at what american pupils demand and at their expectations. accustomed to the years of attention to detail and to seeing their own students willing to wait long years before good results are achieved, they naturally think the american students wild. these americans want to do in one year what europeans are willing to use three or four years for. those teachers say it cannot be done and set down american students as conceited fools. while at first glance the teachers appear right, may they not be wrong? america to-day has more inventions in use, more quick ways of working in all lines of life, and can show quicker results in all lines of activity than any other nation. methods and ways have been devised and adapted to american speed in all branches. may such not apply to study? so this item is prepared in the interest of american students, living under american conditions. it is useless to say, "we live too fast." take facts as they are and adjust our custom to the day, place and situation. until within comparatively few years the plan for cultivation of the voice and preparation for song singing was to sing a few sustained tones for warming up the voice, as the saying was, and then to sing vocalizes. in the earlier stages of practice solfeggii and vocalizes of easy range and light character were employed. as these were acquired, similar ones of greater difficulty were used and as the singer gained confidence in himself and ability to sing better, the exercises were still increased in difficulty. the time employed in study extended over several years and with the result that those who had patience and perseverance became able to sing. not one, however, in a thousand, who studied ever arrived at a point which allowed him comfort in his singing or pleasure to his hearers. that is, to the idea of a practical mind, desultory voice study. it may be adapted to the contented plodding of an old world civilization, but is not in keeping with the age of electricity or of gigantic schemes. it must be kept in mind by every one that "old things have passed away and all things have become new." the very association about us makes mind keen to rapidity of action, speaking from incisive thought. a plodder stands back while the brilliant man moves to the front. by the plodder is meant he who is _willing_ to go slowly. by the brilliant man, he, though he may not have more native talent than the other, has by calling to his aid those commanding elements of success, moved surely and therefore swiftly, through the perplexities of every existence, to the front. every thing which cuts off wastefulness of time becomes a weapon with which to fight perplexities. in such an active life, he who would cultivate the voice and become a musician must map out for himself a course of study which will give him the best results in the quickest possible time. it is patent to every one who intelligently teaches that the road followed during the last few generations lacks these short roads to success. one asks, and with justice, if we have now found the royal road to learning which it has ever been said does not exist. if that means the road by which, at one bound, we reach perfection, the answer must be that no royal road has been found. there have been planned, however, ways of procedure which must shorten the trip. i know not when man first practised dentistry but this i do know, that the doctor of dental science who works on lines of even one generation back is valueless. to-day the terrors of the dentist's chair are reduced to a minimum, if not entirely removed. photography, a science of our day, has swiftly grown to an art. i recall a photographer who in was noted for perfect work. he was so satisfied with himself and his work that he neglected to use the new ways which were being discovered. in his work was considered so bad as to be condemned by all and his studio was forsaken. printing by the sun had not been discarded but how to use the science had been carefully advanced--wasteful and slow method discarded, and surer and better results obtained. is a musician less keen of perception and adjustment to circumstances than the dentist and photographer? pride rebels against an affirmative answer. then the natural deduction is that he has learned to apply new ways and methods, by and through which he can produce surer and more beautiful results than could his predecessor in his profession. as a first step toward progress he recognised the faults of the old way and sought a change from them. the chief of the faults lay in seeking to cultivate a sound. he said in substance, then, that "since cultivating a sound is wrong i consider that no such thing as sound exists. it cannot be perceived by any of the senses. it cannot be seen, tasted, smelt, felt, or even heard." (parenthetically, it may be said if one takes exception to the latter statement, that proof is given of the truth if one sings into a phonograph. the singer cannot recognise what the instrument sounds back as _his_ voice. others may recognise it but he cannot. the hearing of my voice by another, no matter how much _he_ may tell me about it, does not show me how it sounds, and i must conclude that i cannot hear it.) since none of the five senses can bear upon sound, for cultivating it, sound, or tone if you wish to call it so, is worthless. this then which the old teachers watched for years, was intangible, and to watch it to-day and to try to form singers by manipulating so subtle a thing, produces wastefulness, and desultory practice. go to the foundation. what produces voice? vibration of air reservoirs. what governs the air and gives the vibration? muscle. what are muscles, where are they, how can they be managed? they are contained within the portion of the body between the waist and the eyes, and form, while used in voice production, about all of that portion of the body, and they can be managed by the understanding and command of the mind. the general understanding of vocal anatomy, and the positive control of that anatomy that it may do just what the will demands is the foundation of voice practice. such positiveness makes possible the rapidity of vocal development akin to the surety of the dentist's art and the certainty of the photographer. the prime fault of old methods is, at one stroke, cut away. a new growth on the foundation appears. many musical journals discuss methods, italian, french, german. even wonder if we will ever have an american method. such discussion is waste. there is _one_ method. _all_ schools build on it. he who understands it best and is surest in teaching it, gives best result and is the best teacher. he, the best teacher, is such only when he applies his mind to each and every act of his pupil and banishes for the time being every other thought from mind. in a proper lesson every minute is used thoroughly. no sixty seconds can be thrown away. the mind of the teacher alert to the necessity of his charge makes every minute tell. with this as a preamble, turn to the pupil who is by himself to avoid desultory practice. you have a voice. every one has. yours, you know, is a very good one. you want (not, would like) in the quickest time to make it do just what you conceive a fine singer should do. then, know what is to be done, understand how to do it, and do it. the boys say "one to make ready, two to prepare, and three--." but you stand around making ready, preparing so long. why? do you know what is to be done? ask the teacher, and don't let him evade positive instruction. garcia, when asked the cause of jenny lind's great success, replied "she never tried to do anything 'til she knew how. more than once she has come to my house of an evening and said 'i did not fully understand what you told me to-day. will you explain it again?' after that she never needed to be told again." at a lesson understand what is taught. don't pretend you do when you do not. after going home from each lesson, write in a book kept for that purpose what has been said at the lesson. read that book often. this will fix in mind, as well as preserve for reference, the instruction, and make sure the understanding of it. then it is for you to do it. once the pianist played scales by the hour to limber the hand; now he thinks only of the muscle which causes each finger to strike, and makes that muscle work at once. what formerly took months to do he now does in days. desultory practice is avoided. a teacher in a certain city complained that another teacher got pupils by advertising quick method. cut off desultory practice, apply mind where brute force has formerly held sway, and quick method is the result. one reference to complaint brings others to mind. the most precious commodity known is time. twenty-four hours only in a day. how little and how valuable. yet if all is conserved, how much and how great. masonic instruction divides the day into three portions; one for our usual avocations, one for good of self and family, and one for refreshment and sleep. so much for instruction. can some wasteful acts of life be reduced or eliminated, that we may economize time, and what is better, form habit of utilizing all of the precious commodity? what a lesson one can draw on these elevated trains. each morn, a man (one man, or how many think you?) enters and finds a seat. immediately he is into his newspaper. a half hour later he gets out, having arrived at his station. what has happened? he has read the newspaper. no, he _hasn't_ read the newspaper. ask him what he has learned. he can't tell you. one item, two, three, perhaps--and these of little value. that is not reading. it is cursory glancing, desultory and wasteful. stop it. thirty precious minutes gone. a glance at a paper (provided one knows the general make-up of the paper he reads) tells him all in it of value. six minutes is enough, except when something of unusual moment is to be read, and that doesn't happen once a month. the other twenty-four minutes should go into some other purpose. a book, magazine, play, or even silent thought will give value for the twenty-four. at night, on the way home, the man skims through an evening paper. almost one hour of the twenty-four thrown away. compute the amount of educational advancement possible to this city were the hundreds of thousands of hours thrown away daily to be used in progressive study or thought. you and i help to waste, do we? the command of the mind is the underlying need of the student. it has come into thought that should one apply himself every minute to some work that he would fatigue and wear out. he could not stand it. wrong. the mind cannot wear out, even if it can fatigue. rest is the opposite of unrest, and unrest is equivalent to fatigue. the superficial reading or skimming, shifting of thought through the thousand objects which come before the mind gives the unrest and through it, the fatigue. stop the unrest, and let rest abound. rest comes through definite change of work. the man who leaves his office, rushes to mountain and farm, sees new scenes, faces, customs, eats new food, rides, fishes, swims, climbs and dances, is the one who comes back rested. there has been no unrest, but radical change. the first assistant engineer of the new york aqueduct was to me at one time an object of astonishment. it was said of him, "when he works, he works; when he plays, he plays; whatever he does it is for the time all in the world to him." at that time he held an important engineering position, was an officer in a military organization, secretary of a yacht club, active in church society, leader in literary circles in classic boston and never was rushed. the change of work was the secret of it all. rest came by turning out of mind what did not pertain to the act then in hand. every act was new. of a certain minister it is said "he can do more in ten minutes than most men do in a day." his church has fifteen hundred members and his sunday school a larger number. calls, sermons, the sick, weddings, funerals, the poor (for he had four charity societies), his family, young people's societies,--yet he has time for all and he sees callers, more in one week than you and i do in a year. how does he do it? what you and i waste time upon, he does not. no gossip, worry, standing before a mirror, dozing over dinner, or unrest for him. vary the monotony a little and find rest. don't fear doing too much. wear out, if need be, but don't rust. it is the busy man who has lots of time. do you want advice, a helping hand? avoid the lazy man, for he has no time for you. the busy man has. why is it that the busy teacher draws the most pupils? were he to half teach ten pupils they would leave him and no more would come. because he can attend to forty, and that by making to each a profitable half-hour, forty more come. the half supplied teacher is less able to teach his small flock than the pushed teacher. he _must_ turn quickly from act to act and thus keep rested, by change of scene, pupil, music and vivacity. "can you jump immediately from a lesson to the desk and write one of your magazine articles?" asks one. nothing easier. fix the mind on what is to be done that minute, and do it. it makes a heaven of earth. instruction which is not practical is little worth. you are interested in improving yourselves vocally. to you let me plan a first step toward preventing desultory voice practice. under four headings. practical ones. _first._--establish customs. the best one i know is to plan in advance to accomplish certain things. make up the mind what you would like to do. each night make out a little card of what is to be done next day. probably not half the things planned will be executed, at first. what of it. some have been done; but better, that unconscious growth which carries custom into habit will be developed and the system which will grow out of the custom of preparing the cards and attempting to work out that which was planned, will cut off more wasteful minutes than you admit are in your day. after a time it will come that all the items you write on the card at evening will not be too much to do on the following day. compare the card of the thirtieth day with that of the first and you will find you wrote quite as many (if not more) things to do and now you can do them all, and feel no hurry and far less fatigue. will you try that? _second._--give certain times each day to certain things. you can't? you can. i'll give proof you can. having planned what is to be done the next day and allowed that custom to become habit, will develop such regularity that each hour will have its regular work and nothing will crowd it out. the system produces it. turn a kaleidoscope. each jarring makes new adjustment of figure. your duty is a kaleidoscope. the proof is that every one who _tries_ such adjustment, succeeds. the school boy knows the time of bell ringing, the hour for arithmetic, geography, etc. the train man knows the minute to be at each station. the clerk or workman is ready to stop work at a certain time. certain theatres announce what scenes will be on at every minute of the evening. you think and would say, "but these admit of no interruption, and i may have interruptions." to which i say "these _permit_ no interruption, and if you were as systematic, you would permit none." a friend calls at the door to see you. you waste five minutes (only five?) talking to him. think it over. was that necessary? couldn't it have been said in two--one, or less? next time, kindly, but firmly excuse yourself. if the friend thinks you snubbing, you can afford that, for the friend is a wasteful one and better be dropped than allowed to spoil you. the fault when we waste time is in us, not in the friend. a lady called recently. "your time is valuable. i'll say in one word what i want." 'twas said, and she went. kind lady! to whom? me? not at all. she is one of the busiest women in the city and couldn't afford to give much of her time to the errand, but neatly complimented, in order to cover what some might call selfishness. be wise. that kindly habit comes from preventing waste. _third._--banish every low or lowering thought. for now, for no reason except to save time, and help form habit which prevents waste. every thought has its sure influence. every thought of envy, hatred, jealousy, of crimes, accidents, misfortunes, sorrows, our own or those of others, is an evil. it takes time out of life and saps life-activity. supplant it with pure and good thought. health, brightness, pleasure, art and beauty are subjects which lift. upward, upward, toward heaven! that must be the student's mental attitude. enough would drag down. cast the down view away. look up and go up. you do not study for the purpose of going downward. upward again to the top--and _you_ must do it by having your thought good and pure. _fourth._--interest friends in your practice. only one word about that. no one can long go in any mental work alone. progress _is_ mental work. rising draws others to and with us. see a little whirlwind take up the dust. it gathers more and more until a column twenty or thirty feet high is before us. tell father, mother, friends, those you can trust, what you hope to do and what your efforts to accomplish that, are. seeing you in earnest they will help--with misgivings at first, may be, but they will join the column and make one with you sure. summary, briefly. by systematic utility, every minute contributes to progress, forming habits which prevent wasteful thought and fatigue. the customs of former years need not be followed because direct result will come from direct application of thought to study. old world ways and past generation ideas do not belong to-day in either teacher or pupil, and, therefore, are to drop out. the wastefulness of uncertainty and evil in mind may be overcome by directness of effort until good habit crowds out the evil. the first and all important step is the plan of action. acknowledge no limitation to growth. love soundness, careful thought, steadfast purpose. chapter iii. alere flamman. "_his tongue was framed to music, and his hand was armed to skill; his face was the mould of beauty, and his heart the throne of will._" =emerson.= "_slow, indeed, at times, is the will of the gods, but in the end not weak._" =euripedes.= iii. alere flammam. everyone can sing. the culture of the voice has come to be looked upon as a great and serious undertaking, and of such magnitude that but few have time for it, and those only should attempt it who have exceptionally fine voices. this is a mistake. nearly everyone can sing, and if all would attempt to improve the voices they have by observing a few common-sense rules, it would soon be apparent that there are many more good singers among the masses than it is supposed exist, and these singers will learn how much can be done to add to their own comfort, by a little outlay of thought. culture of the voice has been made a mystery by charlatan teachers and for a purpose. think out how the conversational voice works and then consider what difference there should be between that and the singing voice. nature planned the speaking voice and in doing it, gave us the line of development to follow in bringing into use the singing voice. the change from speaking to singing voice is where the quack enters with his mystery. there is no mystery. use the voice as in speaking but pitch it at higher and lower points than are used in speaking. this is the foundation of the singing voice. only one caution is needed. never strain the throat. if, after a little practice, fatigue is felt or the tone is husky, stop practice. do not try to do it all at once. a little each day added, will, in a few months, do all that is wanted. do not expect, however, that any amount of study by one's self will make an artist. one can sing, by self-study, so as to get much pleasure, and so as to give pleasure to friends; but something more serious and extended is needed to make the artist. sustain perfectly. sustaining perfectly the reservoir of air is the greatest _desideratum_ in using the voice. acquiring ability to do so is a puzzle often to students. the reason is in the fact that no muscles which are directly under the control of the will can be caused to act upon the air column. the chief organ of respiration is the diaphragm, and as years of teaching bring experience which is definite in results, we find that the diaphragm is the only muscle which holds the air column in check. that muscle situated within the body cannot be held by any visible power. the _thought_ of holding it still will make us hold our breath. trying to assist such holding by muscles of the chest, abdomen or throat, only defeats our purpose and makes the diaphragm give way. that large muscle will do the whole work if we will let it. the thought, as said above, is what will make it remain quiet. that thought may take various forms. what assists one does not appeal to another. but here is an assisting thought which does much good to the majority of students. of course when the breath is taken the diaphragm is down and the waist is spread. then the chest, bronchial tubes, windpipe and mouth are full of air. now allow that air to be as still as the air of the room. practise sustaining tone with any vowel, preceding each effort by taking position suggested above, and with the thought of keeping the air in the body just the same as, and a part of, the outer air. then allow tone to float in the air, permitting no force whatever. care of the body. singers seem to think but little of the tools with which they carry on their life work. that is the rule. now and then a singer takes the opposite course and becomes unreasonably careful of his tools. in that case he is worse off than the careless. the "happy medium" is in all things the desirable state. our tools as singers are enclosed within the body and are the body. to have the body ready to respond to the musical demands it must be well and strong. to keep it well should be our first care. happily we are so made that by following a few simple rules of living the body goes on through a long term of years without getting seriously out of order. some persons can boast that they are never ill while many report but one sickness during a decade. the needed attention to the bodily wants, has, in these cases, been properly given. if all were as careful to do the same and not overdo the matter, perfect health would be the rule and not the exception. the body needs nourishing food, clothing to preserve nearly uniform temperature, sufficient sleep, generous exercise, and thorough cleansing. nothing more. neglect of these, or as is more often the case, overdoing some of the first, is cause of disorder and disease. a singer cannot afford to have the tools of his employment other than in first-rate condition. if he does he enters his work, unnecessarily handicapped. general advice regarding the eating and drinking is often given. making it more specific, we would say, eat only such food as is easily digested and insist that it shall be thoroughly cooked. supply the body with enough such for its maintenance only. the singer, again, cannot afford to eat what is not needed, be that of kind or amount. most persons in running a furnace will feed fuel twice a day, at night and morning. in specially cold weather giving the fire a little extra fuel at noon. this is a good rule for feeding the body. avoid over-feeding. the object of eating is to nourish the body and not to gratify appetite. it makes little difference whether the palate is pleased or not. the body could be nourished on food which does not taste so good as some other. eating, to most people, is more palate gratification than anything else. in doing so, the body is overfed and clogged. singers cannot afford that. sleep. to recover the waste of body at each days' work, quiet restful sleep is needed. eight hours, or better nine, out of each twenty-four. in a cool room where possible and with plenty of fresh air. people who eat rationally need not fear taking cold by sleeping in a room with a draught of air through it. fresh air, fresh, good food and cleanliness are necessary to the best results in singing study. no rule can be given about bathing. some students can stand a thorough bath every day. others, only once in ten days. a sponge bath, if no other, should be had daily, that the pores of the body may be kept open and clear. clothing should be sufficient to keep the temperature of the body even. no need of wrapping the throat even when going into the open air, if the temperature of the body generally is even. we do pamper our bodies and think we are uncomfortable. in one sweeping sentence, be vigorous and good-natured and the body will the better serve us. a long walk each day in the fresh air adds to that vigor, and also to our good-nature. friends can help. advice of friends is a source of value or injury to the singing student. advice has its influence. every word spoken about one's voice and singing helps or injures. if placed in a circle which condemns every effort we make we are held back by that very influence from doing our best. every judicious word of praise helps us upward. a pupil who is struggling by himself, without a word of cheer in his own home circle has a hard fight of it. for that reason it is very necessary that pupils whose desires are similar, and whose aims are toward the highest, should be gathered together. they help by their words, and often by their looks, the anxious student. "forsake not the assembling of yourselves together," applies. after a pupil's recital, a judicious teacher will tell his pupils the kind things which the others have said. if unkind things should be said (but a teacher who is himself kind will not hear unkind things) he will keep those to himself, guiding himself, however, by those comments in the future treatment of that criticized pupil. in this connection, a word to the members of the family of the student. a mother, who steps into the practice-room occasionally when she hears good singing and says, "that was good. i see you are improving," aids the student as much as a half-dozen lessons will aid. a brother who banters his sister about her singing when he really enjoys it, knows not, oftentimes, that his banter hurts and harms. to be sure, the partiality of the home circle may foster false hopes, but since nearly every one can learn to sing well if rightly trained, that will do less harm than cold indifference and cruel banter. renew thought. the teacher who does not live in high thought, and who does not attempt to attain a high ideal, does poorer work than he thinks he does. it is an easy matter to settle into a rut and to follow certain lines. these wear themselves out. new ways of imparting time-honored teaching, although they may not change the principles of teaching, must be constantly sought. they will only come to mind by keeping the thought in the highest realm of intellectual possibility to that teacher. one who contemplates with restful care, in that higher realm, the beautiful in music, the way of influencing mind, and the most direct way of causing students to attain that which they need, will ever renew his method of teaching. such renewal will contain something better than he had before. unless constant renewal, or at least frequent renewal, takes place, the rut will be entered upon. the longer one follows it, the deeper he becomes settled in it, and the harder is it to get out from it. speaking and singing. the basis of good singing is good speaking. the speaking voice in common use during conversation covers a range of five or six notes. frequently lower and higher notes are called into use, but the high and low notes of the singing voice are seldom used in conversation. the organs which produce voice, from their constant use respond involuntarily to the will. they also do correct work. it is seldom that a person, unless he has deformity, has trouble to pronounce any word or syllable, while talking. would this were true of singers. the student would greatly lessen the amount of his labor and also reduce the cost of his musical education if he were able to speak the words as correctly and as easily while singing as while speaking. it is toward this imitation of the speaking voice that one must constantly strive if he would make rapid progress in voice development. when he has reached the point where he can sing every vowel and consonant perfectly, and with as little effort as when speaking, on every tone of his singing voice, and then have that voice loud enough to be well heard in any hall, the voice is completely and well cultivated. associates. singers cannot afford to miss the chance to be among great men. as a class, musicians are narrow and that arises from the necessity of giving so much time to technical study. when the chance to meet and associate with men of broad minds comes, take advantage of it. even if the contact be not close some of the light shining from the great mind will illumine us, and will make us brighter. the great mind is drawing from inspired source, maybe, and the light which comes from that mind drives out darkness from whatever it covers. light and darkness cannot remain together. let the mind be thrown open to receptivity when one is in the presence of the acknowledged leader and good clear light, it may be from heaven, will flood the mind and illumine it. purity of method. purity of vocal method must not be departed from by teachers. the introduction of new ideas is at best a hazardous undertaking. in the routine of teaching week after week and month after month the teacher finds himself casting about for a new idea. he finds something which pleases him and tries it on his pupils. most teachers can look back at experiments which have failed. better decide on a few basic principles and cling to them. the desire to try something new is very liable to be the result of fatigue from overwork. better take a holiday; go away from the classroom and rest. come back to first principles again and go to work. the result at the end of the year will be better. every teacher as he grows older resolves his ways of cultivating the voice into something very simple but which, as it condenses, becomes more powerful. there is only one right way and deep thinkers settle on that alike in time. mental recovery. a teacher cannot do better for himself and his work than to occasionally close the office door and sit quietly by himself for a half-hour. at such time crowd out the thought of all work, all planning, all worries, and all demands. bring the mind as nearly as can be into inactivity. one will find in the hour when work is resumed that more of value will flood into the mind, he knows not from whence, than he can catch and apply in a great many hours. how many of us have times of refreshing. it is work, work, hour after hour and the wonder is that we do so much and yet do so little. leave out some of the work and call activity of mind to our aid and we will do more work with much less effort. profession or trade. an item recently seen reads, "we would rather be a music teacher in an obscure town than be a prosperous tradesman in a large city." that has the sound of enthusiasm, and is the feeling of one who has the good of his fellowmen at heart. every man who enters a profession gives up his life to do good. but few men in any professional life ever make more than a good living. some can, indeed, save enough to make occasional investments, and these (if judgment has been good) secure a moderate fortune. but no man ever became wealthy from his profession alone. a professional man, however, gratifies his better nature and satisfies cultivated tastes. a man in trade becomes so engrossed in business that his better nature (his refined taste) is dwarfed. that comfort of mind which the professional man has is more to him than the bags of gold of the merchant would be. probably the writer who made the remark quoted, had in mind the opportunity which the music teacher has to do good. it is a grand field of work, and one who has been engaged in it for several years wants no other. to lead the public by teaching and by public performance into the knowledge of the highest art, is a privilege which should be prized. the music teacher, (even if not so placed by common opinion) stands with the minister and the physician in the good which he does the community. heart and intellect. let not the heart be the ruling power all the time. if it is, art sinks into sentimentality. allow the head to rule alternately with the heart. intellect must be applied if any satisfying musical result is to be obtained. emotion is good, but it needs curbing, shaping and restraining. emotion, long sustained and unbridled, becomes nauseating. emotion in itself is beautiful, but like fire and water, if it once becomes the master, wastes and destroys. emotion, aroused by imagination and directed by intelligence, serves to give taste to all musical rendition. one without heart is non-satisfying as a singer. be he ever so intellectual, his singing is cold. intellect alone, unaided by heart, is like polished steel--cold, brilliant and dazzling. intellect and heart combined are like the same surface engraved and enamelled in artistic design--chaste, delicate and finished. time ends not. we may say with emerson that "time has his own work to do and we have ours," and with wood, "labor is normal; idleness, abnormal," but in music there must be times of cessation from labor. call it change of work, if you choose rather than admit that labor has ceased, but experience shows that no musician can safely follow his calling year in and year out, with no regular period of rest, and save his mind and body. sooner or later comes a collapse. the human machine breaks down. then we shall think of emerson and wood as unsafe leaders. time has his work, but he works in such deliberation and in such ever-changing form that were he one who could feel fatigue, he need not feel it. time is from eternity to eternity. time does not occupy a human machine. the music teacher does. many a teacher has toiled beyond his strength this year. many will next year. who will take thought for himself and break loose, if but for a few weeks, and postpone the time of breaking down? one might say, that with time, the human soul is from eternity to eternity and there is no breakdown. true, but the residence of that soul while it is in this period of existence, demands much of its attention. that cannot properly be given when the exacting duties of the class-room drag on week after week, till they number fifty-two, and then begin at once another weary round. admit that there are limitations, and, in cordial co-operation with existing laws, select and use the days of idleness, even if one has said that idleness is abnormal. power of thought. the power of thought to exert influence is only in our day being understood. how to utilize it is not yet in such degree of comprehension that it can be told so that all are able to use the force which they contain. thought is a tangible essence passing from the human mind and lodging upon the object toward which it is sent. definite thought is more powerful than is illy defined thought. speech enables us to crystalize thought and to empower it with added force. the time given to framing sentences enables us to put thought into definite form. a step beyond speech is obtained in singing. when learning our songs we revolve the thought to be expressed in mind. the measure of the music gives time to concentrate the thought contained into its most powerful form. the rhythm and vibration which accompany music and singing, enhance the power of thought. whenever we sing in the true spirit of the sentiment uttered we send out shafts, so to speak, of pure thought. not one of those is lost. it lodges somewhere, and as all good can never do harm, our good thought, sent in song, must do good to those who come within our influence to receive our good shafts. a singer who uses music for vain display loses the opportunity for good. there is no good thought in such singing. if there is any thought at all it is of the lower order. it lodges also, but it appeals to that which is vain and low in our hearers. what wonder is it, then, that ofttimes our hearers make unkind remarks about us and our singing! it is our fault that we have stirred up in them the spirit of vanity and criticism. our thought has often challenged such spirit in them. let our thought be changed, and only the good which is contained in poetic art sent out to them and their attitude toward us will change. there is no unpleasant thing which comes to us but that we stimulated it and created it. we can make our musical surroundings by sending out powerful shafts of pure thought. nature seldom jumps. nature seldom moves by jumps, and a student who reaches the best use of his voice learns that he must do that through natural laws. in other words, that he must acquire all things through naturalness. what wrongs have been done to students under the shield of so-called naturalness! many teachers who claim that they are cultivating the voice by natural laws, know nothing of what it means to be natural. naturalness means the expression of our own nature. if a teacher uses the natural method he but points out to his pupils their true natures and holds them to that correct use of such that they return to their normal condition. the necessities of our modern living have made most of us feel that we must put a side of ourselves outward which shows off well. in singing we develop abnormally something which we fancy will please our hearers and bring us applause. we try to hide our defects and admit that we do. aside from the question of honesty, is it policy to do so. most firmly, should be the answer, no! it destroys the naturalness of the singer and substitutes artifice. any spurious issue will be detected sooner or later. besides, is it not much more comfortable to have the real than the counterfeit? be natural, then. many students are impulsive. it was to these that the remark that "nature seldom jumps," was made. in natural action everything is deliberate and restful; controlled and sure. nature makes but few angles, but moves in graceful curves. good quality of tone on one note and poor quality on the next, is not natural. nature does not jump from one voice into another. nature demands symmetric cultivation of the whole voice, and not the display of a favored part. be perfect. do not be content to merely make progress. (if one feels that he is at a standstill, or worse, going backward, he should stop all study till he can go forward). merely making progress means that to reach great result, a long time must elapse. to make a great artist requires years of musical and intellectual training; to be able to sing as perfectly as the body is capable of acting, requires but a few weeks, or at most, a few months. why will students take lessons year after year and not sing any better than they did soon after they began? it is not necessary if the student is willing to go rapidly. "be ye perfect," applies to singing as well as to anything else in life. if the injunction to be perfect has any meaning at all, and no one has any right to doubt but that it meant, when it was spoken, just what the words contain, that applies very thoroughly to singing. the very essence of life itself is more fully operative in singing than it is in anything else. if so, to be perfect in singing is to be perfect also in the essence of life. the injunction was not to become perfect by a long course of training. the present tense was used and it meant just what was said. "be ye perfect," _now_. by proper mental conception of the true principle which underlies voice culture and by demonstration with concentrated thought, the possibility of any individual body can be at once brought out. on this account, the long years of wasteful practice which people use in cultivating the voice is not only unnecessary, but foolish and wicked. chapter iv. perfect voice method. "_observe how all passionate language does of itself become musical,--with a finer music than the mere accent; the speech of man even in jealous anger becomes a chant--a song. all deep things are song._" =carlisle=. iv. perfect voice method. a teacher of voice and singing who does not believe his way is the best in the world is in one of two positions:--either he is a scamp, passing off spurious goods for real worth, or he is doing the best he can in his knowledge and present situation, waiting for the time when he can obtain instruction in a better method. if a teacher believes he has the best way of teaching he has a perfect right to so express himself, and to use that method in his teaching. he may be wrong in his opinion but that does not effect his right to work on the lines of his opinion. some day something may show him he is mistaken and such a man will be very liable to correct his error and, taking the newly found way, progress in that. a teacher who knows he is far from right and still works on, is not worthy of consideration as a teacher. one who uses the profession of voice teaching merely for livelihood and who cares not whether he does good or harm is little better than criminal. such there be and such there will be until a time arrives in which teachers will be granted authority to teach from some recognized institution, without whose permission to teach, it would violate a law of the land to advertise as a teacher. just such control as is kept over medical practice will some day be had, but not in our generation. hundreds of teachers of the voice in all parts of our land are teaching up to their light, hoping the time may come, and to most it does come sometime, when they may get away from the office and study still farther into voice and music, thus making better their ability. that class has already done much for singing and music. it might be said that all that has been done has come from that class, for no teacher feels that nothing remains for him to learn. singing, too, is a subtle thing. a teacher feels every little while as if his good way were slipping from him, and if he cannot get out of his work and brush up with a master, he will lose all the ability he has. the best teachers do leave their work, go to some other teacher, may be not better than they are, and have their work inspected and made better. a salesman from a furniture house once put the matter tersely:--"when i go out from the house on a long trip, i start with a plan of what i will say and how i will make my sales. in a little while i get rusty, and saying the same things over and over again makes me hate them. then my business falls off. i go into the warerooms again for a time, hear the firm talk up goods in a new way, meet other salesmen and hear how they talk, and off i go again on my trip fresh and bright." no work gets into a groove more easily than teaching. when working in a rut the teacher produces small results. the successful teacher tries every expedient in his power to get all the result he can. sometimes, it may be remarked incidentally, he is called by a pupil lacking in appreciation and discernment, an experimenter, because he changes his plan of working. but he can endure that provided he gets definite results from his teaching. the best way for the teacher who must plod on by himself through long years is that he should once in every few months sit quietly alone and think over what his voice method is, how he is applying it, and what the result is. below is the thought of such an hour condensed into comparatively few words. the heading of this article indicates that this is the opinion of the writer at the present time. the thinking which may come in the next ten years may show he could have thought better now, but this is to him now, a perfect voice method. the voice is produced by the body; it was originally planned for speech and not for singing; attributes of the voice are range, power, quality, and flexibility; into the voice can be injected, language; the action of all physical portions are under the command of the mind. there are four portions of the body which are brought actively into use for the production and management of the voice, and these permit voice culture to be divided into four departments. these must first be brought into correct action. natural action is correct action. what the world has considered as correct action may be wrong, for on most matters the opinion of the world is incorrect. a few clear-headed men have again and again appeared in various affairs and shown the world the mistake into which it had fallen. may be this is true of voice culture. it is safe to follow nature. the first department of voice culture is, as most persons admit, the respiratory department. breathing. that goes on from the time we are born till we die. generally as children we breathe well and correctly. when manhood arrives most of us have interfered with nature's way of breathing and have interposed something quite different from that we used earlier. this has come largely from faulty civilized eating, so that the organs of digestion are constantly troubling us. the stomach, liver, etc., exert decided influence on the diaphragm which is the chief organ of respiration. we, also, have grown nervous as years have come, because of the demands of active life upon us. that nervousness keeps all the muscles of the body in a state of unnatural strain, and this strain has even caused us to breathe differently from what nature planned. the very first step toward good voice method is to bring the breathing apparatus back to working order. as said above, the chief organ of respiration is the diaphragm, and that is a large muscle which cuts across the body at the edge of the ribs. its centre, right in the middle of the body is constantly moving downward and upward. when it goes down the breath enters the body; when it comes up the breath comes out. stop that muscle and breath is held. stripped of all confusion that is all the description needed of inhalation, exhalation and breathing-holding. if some who read this would not say that this is too simple, and that they knew more than this article says, the subject would be dropped there. at most, all that can directly be added is to prolong the lowering and raising the diaphragm so that it is done by long strokes. some one says we have been taught about spreading the sides, expanding the abdomen, filling the back, keeping the chest still, and a dozen more things. examine the above, and if opposing effort to the free movement of the diaphragm in its upward and downward journey is avoided it will be found that all which is of good in inspiration and expiration is contained in the above. a most useful exercise for the development of strength in this organ of respiration is to slowly perform the act of panting in the same way that a dog pants. but about holding the breath. that is the most important thing about breathing. it says above that if the movement of the diaphragm is stopped, the breath will be held. sure enough. then why can't we all hold the breath? we can. holding the breath in that way a little while every day and caring to keep it so whenever using the voice will so complete the strength of the diaphragm that it will stay still a very long time, much longer than it takes to sing any phrase in music which is written. the majority of pupils--yes, all of us, teachers and pupils, when they seek to let the diaphragm stay still try to assist it to do so. we try to hold the breath by the muscles of the chest, by those of abdomen, or by shutting off the throat. now these do not assist the diaphragm to stay still, and on the other hand, they prevent the diaphragm from staying still. they make it move. some one says, or thinks if he doesn't say it, that unless the diaphragm moves when we begin to sing that no tone can be made. that is one of the mistakes of the world. some teachers have even said that we must press the air upward as we sing, so that the vocal bands may make it into tone. that is absurd. keep back all pressure from the vocal bands. if the slightest air pressure is put upon them they are over-worked. hold still the diaphragm and the air is held loosely suspended throughout the chest, the bronchial tubes, the windpipe and the mouth. then in this air the vocal bands work. they will help themselves to just the right amount of breath, to make into tone without any assistance from you. you can't make nature work. you can permit her to work in her own way. when we speak of the vocal bands we are talking of something which pertains to the second department of voice culture--the throat. there can be, and need be, very little said to the pupil about the throat in its action during singing. teachers do say many things. one thinks the larynx--the protuberance known as the adam's apple--ought to be pressed down, and kept so. another thinks it ought to be forced upward. still another says it should be allowed to be low at one time and high at another. there is just one way of settling the matter. how is the action when we act naturally? nature built the throat for conversational voice. if we are to use it for singing we can't do better than to follow the suggestions of nature as to the way the throat moves while speaking. then on those ways let the throat act while singing. sound several notes with the same vowel in the conversational voice and see what the larynx does. some one suggests that this ceases to be conversation and becomes singing. but it doesn't. conversation runs easily through an octave of tones. generally we use three or four tones. when we are very quiet or are sad the voice lowers a few notes. if we are very merry or are angry the voice ascends. we talk at the "top of the voice," literally. if we do so in speaking, surely we may lop off the many vowels and the consonants and speak, conversationally--on several tones. it will be found that the larynx moves freely. that being the case, he is a very foolish man who could make the larynx go down and stay there. again, with the tip of the finger on the larynx say the different vowels. it will be seen that the larynx changes position at each change of vowel. let it so change when we sing. the great opponent of such action is the stiffening of the cords of the neck--the muscles on the sides of the neck. in connection with the work to be looked after in the third department, yet to come, the way of removing that stiffness will have mention. within the larynx there are many delicate muscles which are performing their various functions. what they do, and how they do them has been the subject of study through several generations and the question is not solved. an eminent physician has for several years been photographing throats while producing tone. about four hundred different throats have been photographed. in an article published by him in january of this year, he says: "i have not yet permitted myself to formulate a theory of the action of the larynx during singing, for even now, after a large number of studies have been made, the camera is constantly revealing new surprises in the action of the vocal bands in every part of the scale." with that true, the only way open for us is to seek ease and comfort of action and never force any part of the throat to overwork. the third department in voice culture relates to the pharynx, or back of the throat. it seems as if any thinking student would realize that in order to acquire a rich tone, resonant with pure sound, the pharynx must be allowed plenty of room, yet many shut it off making a very small chamber. well, it is the teacher's work to find some way to open a roomy space. one of the best ways is to draw a picture of a cross-section of the mouth from the lips to the back wall of the throat, showing a large arch at the top of the section. convey to the pupil's mind the idea of room and he will be most liable to produce the room. sometimes, although it is of doubtful propriety to make any local application for special purpose, the use of the word oh, as an exercise, will permit the pupil to enlarge the pharyngeal chamber sufficiently for any need. this will come up later in connection with another thought. a very important branch of voice culture, the quality of tone, has to do with the pharynx. not much can be said of it now but just a little in connection with a perfect voice method. when singing, we should express something. the emotion in mind must have its appropriate setting. that setting comes chiefly from the quality, and the quality arises from the shape of the pharyngeal cavity. as in all nature's plan we must not try to _make_ the pharynx do anything. we may _permit_ it, and if we do, nature will have her way and will do just right. the emotion of the mind expresses itself upon the face. a face plastic and delicate, changes expression a hundred times a minute, maybe. just so, if we permit it, the emotion of mind expresses itself on the pharynx. we cannot see the expression of the throat as we can that of the face, but we can hear it. that the pharynx may be able to receive the expression of the mind it must be plastic and delicate. if so, just the right form will be assumed for the idea we would express, and the proper quality would be given the tone. we--many of us--don't permit this. we try to shape the pharynx. stop trying and let the muscles of the back of the throat come to a state of rest. then willing them to remain so, sing. sing anything. don't change the feeling, and good quality will fill the tone wherever the voice moves--whether it be high or low, loud or soft. so by this restful way of singing the stiffness of the cords of the neck will be removed and the larynx will move easily and flexibly. in fact, all rapid singing grows out of the restful singing. the use of all embellishments, too, comes through this restful singing. it is to be kept in mind that so long as we employ artificial methods of holding the air column, and so long as we force tones through rigid vocal bands, just so long will we be prevented from obtaining restful action of the pharynx. each part must act correctly and no part must interfere with another. the articulatory department is all which remains to be described. singing employs words, and words are made up of letters. letters are made up of consonant and vowel sounds. consonant and vowel sounds, save one alone, are made by changing the tongue or lips, or moving the jaw. there are but few changes which may be made--less than a dozen. six of those pertain to the tongue, one to the jaw and three to combination of tongue and lips. what these are need not be detailed now. sufficient to say that any action made during conversation may be made while singing and must be made in the same way as in conversation. two ideas advanced by some teachers which are very wrong should be noted. one is that the singer should practice with a spoon in the mouth to hold the tongue in place. as if nature didn't know what the tongue ought to do! the other is that the mouth should be widely opened, "to let out the tone," as old singing school teachers used to say. the tone doesn't come out of the mouth any more than out of the cheeks, chest or head. allow the tone to be made properly, then given quality and resonance by a well arched pharynx and it will come out, no matter where or how. someone asks if there is any real objection to widely opened mouth. certainly, there is. were it merely that the facial expression were destroyed, that would be enough, but that is not the worst of it. opening widely the mouth destroys the shape of the pharynx and all richness is lost. notice a bell. so long as it remains bell-shaped, it has resonant ring. bend its shape so it resembles a pan and the ring is gone. one thought more in connection with articulation. it used to be said that all attention should be given to vowels. not so, in the light of to-day. attend to the consonants and the vowels will take care of themselves. correct speech in song, only, will make good singing. while watching the resonance of the tone as made in the pharynx note the delays made by thoroughly (not violently) sounding the consonants. those delays, prolonged greatly, permit expansion of the pharynx, and perform the work mentioned before which was given the vocal sound, _oh_, to do. to sum perfect voice method up into a sentence it is that by which we command with no apparent effort the column of air, keeping it away from the vocal bands, and, therefore, permitting the quality of tone in the pharynx to be pure; that by which the larynx acts freely, with no strain upon it; that by which thought may instinctively make its impression on the pharynx to give quality to the tone; and that by which we can make consonants and vowels in that pure tone, so that words conveying the thought of the mind may go out to our hearers. chapter v. a paper of seeds. "_he who is a true master, let him undertake what he will, is sure to accomplish something_." =schumann=. "_to engender and diffuse faith, and to promote our spiritual well-being, are among the noblest aims of music_." =bach=. v. a paper of seeds. analyze songs. every song or other vocal composition should be analyzed as the first step in its study. the first theme noted, and the second also, if such there be; the connecting bars; the points which are descriptive or which contain contrasts; the phrases which may present difficulties of vocalization; the climax; and, as well, what relation the prelude and other parts of the accompaniment bear to the song. it is probable that before the pupil is capable of doing this by himself, the teacher must do it for him, not on one song merely, but on a dozen or twenty. a wise teacher will gather his pupils to hear him analyze music now and then. it saves time at individual lessons, for the analysis will be understood by a group as easily as by an individual. it matters not so much that the pupils are not to sing those particular songs, for at the gathering, the way to do the thing will be learned. then as other songs are taught at private lessons, the pupils will be prepared to receive quickly, the instruction. fault finding. pupils may be sure that teachers do not find fault with them merely for the purpose of finding fault. if the teacher is worthy [of] that respect which leads pupils to study with him, he doesn't find fault except when it is necessary, and then he does it with dignity. if the teacher is constantly fault-finding, and does it in an irritable manner, you would better leave him at once. now and then we learn of a teacher who gets his pupils so nervous that they burst out crying. it is not well to remain long with such a teacher. the pupil goes to him with fear which spoils the first of the lesson, and surely after the cry, the lesson is spoiled, for no good vocal tone can then be made. at a lesson all should be restful and dignified. recover from mistakes. next to him who makes no mistakes, is he who recovers from and disguises the errors. at best a performance full of errors of pitch, word, tone and quality is but a patched garment. apply the mind to eradicating every error. perhaps the most common thing for students to do is to try over again, while at practice, the music in which the error has been made, but doing it without thought. it is far better to think what the error is, what caused it, how it should be removed, and then begin the practice which will remove it. oh, if the hours of wasteful practice could only be gathered up into useful hours, how much better off the whole would be! the least wasteful thing is to stop practice and _think_. songs for beginners. when selecting songs for study for beginners, only those which have smooth and well defined melodies should be selected. modern composers seek by the strangest harmonies, following each other without coming to points of definite rest, to do things different from what has been in use so long that it is looked upon as common. the pupils in their early study cannot understand such music, and while bewildered by it, they misapply what they know to be correct use of the voice. the first selections should be simple, melodious, and of easy range. the songs of mozart and mendelssohn are much better for early use than are those which are being published now. as the pupil advances in the knowledge of songs add in any quantity the latest and most weird music, providing it has merit. criticism. the phraseology of newspaper criticism often disturbs musicians, especially those who are very sensitive, and sometimes arouses their ire so that they make reply. in doing so they make a mistake. they place a weapon for further attack in the hands of the critic and add to the force of his remarks by showing that they have hit the mark. one does not prize a shot which goes wide of the point at which it was aimed but is quite proud if, by chance, he hits the bull's-eye. the sensitive man in his reply shows how fortunate the critic is in his shooting. it is not easy to bear the remarks of a harsh critic and it is much harder to draw from them any good lesson. (whether one may draw a lesson from criticism is not open for remark at this writing.) yet, when one gives serious thought to the criticism which seems so cruel he will learn that no one has been hurt by it except the critic himself. he has lowered his thought from a high plain and has made his nature, thereby, coarse and uncomfortable. that cannot come to anyone, even for a few minutes without making him less manly. out of the fullness of his heart at that moment the critic has written and sent out into the world that which lowers. what he sows, that shall he also reap, and in due time his unkindness will come home to him. if he can bear his own act the musician can endure it for the brief time that the "smart" is there. none should ever forget that a man can injure himself but no one else on earth can injure him. wait for results. some of us are slow to learn the lesson, waiting for results. we feel that at one bound we must and will achieve the great success which is our ideal. youth is enthusiastic and believes in itself. nothing daunts it, save the realization of limited success and that realization comes not quickly. there are circumstances which cannot be forced; there are laws which prevent our reaching too far or going too quickly. under them we chafe but in time we come to know that those laws place boundaries of limitation about us. we then begin to inspect the laws just as one bound with cords might be supposed to study his binding after having tried in vain to tear himself free. then is when he discovers that by knowing natural law he can shape his course so that he is not antagonized but aided by his environments and curbings. he then discovers that he can even use the laws which seemed to restrain as his power. but it takes long to learn that lesson. stripes, which cut and burn, must have been received before one can know that he must not fret and be impatient for quick results. "patience overcometh all things." "seek and ye shall find." remember that the early fruit decays quickest. the rosy apple, when all of its fellows are green, has the worm at the core. if you are worthy of results they will come to you, but not in your way or time perhaps. you can afford to wait. all things are good. certain quotations and sayings, through familiarity, lose their point to us. we not only are not impressed by them but forget that they are truths. do you recall "all things work together for good?" does that mean anything? does it mean what it says? does it mean nothing? it means nothing or else exactly what it says, and you may be sure that the latter is the true meaning. what are "all things?" the few which seem bright, maybe; and those which to most of us seem evil, do not belong to "all things." but may we not be at fault in our idea? we are, _we are_. whatever appears to happen to us (although nothing ever happens in the common meaning of that word) belongs to "all things" and at some time we will be able to look back and say from the heart that all was well with us. little things effect. every shade of tone has a meaning which is either artistic or inartistic and one who has developed his appreciation of artistic rendition can so use his tone that just the right effect will be produced with his tone. a noted cartoonist recently showed by two little dots the ability which he possessed to change the character of his picture. he had drawn a sketch of a sweet young girl; rosy cheeks and cherry lips; big sleeves and a gainsborough hat; the most demure and modest little girl ever imagined. then to carry out a joke he changed the position of the eyes, just rubbing on two dots. the character of the whole picture now changed. the demure little girl became the sauciest miss that could be imagined and one could almost imagine a shrug to the shoulders. are singers less able to portray in art than is the cartoonist? if we know the resources at our command and how to use them we can give expression just as well as any other artist can. we do not always know how small a thing can change all expression. the bright face, the warmer tone, the more elastic delivery of voice, quicker attack, all have their value in expressing something. not enough attention is paid to personal appearance before an audience. there are a few things which can be prepared before our appearance which can make the whole performance more artistic. the way of walking across the stage, taking position before the audience, manner of holding the music, of turning its leaves, way of looking up while singing, way of leaving the stage; all these have to do with artistic rendition. they should be taught to pupils by the teacher and should become part of the pupils' instruction. we give all attention to tone and that is only part of the instruction which the student needs. the other matters must not be left to chance. the little things point out the difference between the singer and the artist. musical library. a musical library should be a possession of every singer. there are less than two hundred books on music printed in english, on subjects directly connected with music and singing. these contain all which has been printed which has any great value. many are books for reference and a few contain direct practical instruction. each teacher and all earnest students should see how many of these they now possess and plan to develop the library. all the books need not be purchased at once, nor is it wise to obtain books and put them away on the shelves just for mere ownership. get one book at a time, one a month perhaps, and read it carefully enough to allow you to know what is in it. then put it away for reference. it takes but a few minutes to refresh the mind on what is read. a dozen books a year added in this way will, in a dozen years, give a valuable library. what is more valuable to the owner is that he has lodged in his own mind for every day use more than a hundred good ideas. books taken from the public library and returned to it do not have the lasting value that one's own books have. the sense of ownership is worth something. change opinions. in these days of invention, discovery and progress, no one need be ashamed of changing his opinions. in vocal music the ideas most commonly held twenty years ago are being exchanged for something new. the man who has made a change is often sneered at as "having a method." he may have that, but he may only have advanced to new ground which is to be occupied by common opinion a dozen years from now. the man who changed early was in advance of his fellows and would attract attention. who thought, outside of a very small circle, only forty years ago, that the music of wagner would become the most popular of any age? it is to-day the music of the present and we are already looking for a "music of the future." the present time is, in the manner of dealing with the singing and speaking voice, a transition age. ideas which are being taken up now were scouted as nonsense twenty years ago. they will be commonly accepted ten years from now. it is better to join the army of progress, and change early, even if it does raise a laugh. reputation comes slowly. reputation which will last comes only by slow degrees. man may spring into notoriety at a bound because of some fortuitous circumstance and he may hold the prominence which he gains by his strength of manhood, but the cases of this kind are rare. it is by "pegging away" at something which one knows to be good until by the merit of the "something" and the worth of the labor put into it, attracts the attention of a few judges of its worth, that a reputation is begun. it is begun then, only. some more of the same work must follow but those who have seen the worth now assist in thought as well as in word and the circle which appreciates the worth grows. when good reputation has begun nothing can stop its growth except some unwise or unmanly act of the person himself. for this reason no man need strive after reputation. do well what is good and the result will take care of itself. the reputation will not come because of striving. it will come to any man who is doing good work and living a right life. it takes time to make the lasting reputation and that impatience which so often influences americans, prevents the growth of many a reputation. study poetry. every singer should be an earnest student of poetry. there are minds to which poetry does not appeal as does the practical prose. but in all minds there is enough of latent love of poetry which can be developed until poetry appeals with even stronger force than does prose. can your heart glow with the beautiful sunset? do you joy over the song of the bird? has the spring blossom a message of delicacy to you? then have you that love of nature which can give you understanding of the poet. a faculty of mind exercised grows with its use. a singer _must_ have imagination. without it, the best vocalization lacks the spark of true life. without it, coldness displaces warmth, and darkness, light. the very essence of poetry is imagination. one word in poetry often suggests that which practical prose uses ten words to express. the study of poetry, that is, making poetry a study so that one knows what is in it, helps make good singers. he who has not yet thus used poetry may well plan something new for his winter evenings. mannerisms show character. mannerisms give knowledge to the observing person of our character and intellectuality, and, on that account, are to be studied and used to our advantage. such as would prepossess our hearers in our favor should be retained and such as would be unpleasant to the majority of people should be trained out of our unconscious use. but few think long enough about a singer to be able to tell their reason for liking or disliking him. the voice and art may be good and yet the audience may not like him. on the other hand, the voice may be meagre and the music faulty, yet there will be personal charm which is captivating. the manners which express the better side of our individuality will be those retained. certain it is, that manners are the expression of individuality and there are no two persons whose action is just the same, any more than that there are two faces or two voices alike. it is doubtful whether one can judge the good and bad in mannerisms in himself. we are so liable to accept our intention for actual performance that we deceive ourselves. then, too, mannerisms which would be permitted in one place are not admissible in another. the ways of a german dialect comedian would not serve the shakesperian comedian nor would the physical accompaniment of the songs of the london music hall be proper for the _lieder_ of schubert. the teacher enters at this place and by judicious physical drill, based upon the knowledge of what is wanted in true art, shows the singer what to cure and eradicate and what to make more prominent, wisely retaining those mannerisms which show the higher, nobler and more pleasing part of the singer's individuality. provide for the young. parents see the necessity of providing the means for their children to learn to take care of themselves. a fortune left to a son frequently, if not generally, proves a curse. a "good match" may turn out badly for a daughter. a few hundred, or even one or two thousand, dollars invested in musical education is sure to permit the son or daughter to earn a comfortable living. it will be more than a generation before the field for musical activity is supplied. more than that, in music, every further elevation of the public increases their desire for better and more expensive things in music. there is no prospect that the musical field will be over supplied with artists and teachers. happily, the profession is open to women as well as to men. our daughters can, then, receive preparation for independence in it. the necessity for marriage for mere living has gone by. daughters are as independent of marriage as are sons. the time was when boys were held in greater esteem and value than were girls because they could take business positions and acquire wealth. the new openings for women have changed this. woman is making a place for herself, not through the ballot and because of political influence, but because she is taking position in the business and professional world. everyone, man or woman, should be prepared to take some position which permits a living income to be made. parents are using music as the means of independence to their children. it is better to spend the hundreds of dollars in education in music than to invest that sum in any way to provide a fortune for the children. the life-income from the investment is better for the children. there are no mistakes. how often does every one of us make the "mistake of a lifetime?" probably everyone has made that remark many times regarding himself. the circumstances of life have seemed to point out a certain path. we have followed it. later we felt it to be wrong. it was a mistake. did it do us any good? no. did we learn any lesson? no. will we not make another "mistake of a lifetime" to-morrow, if we have the chance? yes. such is human nature. so we go on. but there is another side to the shield. there are no "mistakes of a lifetime," if we sum up the whole life. none of us can do that yet, but we can put a number of years together and see a result in them. how about that mistake over which you have been mourning? was it a mistake? is it not possible that if you had what you think would have been yours had you taken a different course, you would be worse off than you are now? a young man who is making his mark recently said, "i am glad my father lost his property. had i been supplied with a lot of money while at college, i would have been a profligate." when the father lost his money he probably thought he had made the "mistake of a lifetime." which would any father prefer, poverty or a wrecked family? many pupils rue a supposed mistake in the selection of a teacher. there is no mistake. every teacher who can attract pupils can teach something and every pupil can learn something of him. the mistake, if one was made, was by the pupil, in not learning what that teacher could teach, and when he had gotten that, in remaining longer with him. don't talk about the mistakes but so shape circumstances that all events may be used for good. there is something which can be utilized in everything which happens to us. the bee finds honey in every flower--more in some than in others, to be sure, but none are without sweetness. regularity. "it is the regularity of the laws of nature which leads us to put confidence in them and enables us to use them." thus writes dr. mccosh and he was a keen observer of men and things. his remark suggests that teachers can and will be trusted and used who, by their regularity, awaken confidence. he who attracts and enthuses can for a time command attention. his work will only be lasting and his hold upon the musical public be good when there is something of permanent value behind the enthusiasm. slowly but surely we are reaching the knowledge that in music there is all of life, and that only as we make music part of ourselves is our life rounded. we have reached the place when we can feel that he who has no love of music suffers an infirmity akin to the loss of sight or hearing. we have also reached the belief that everyone must cultivate the musical faculty. we are passing through this life to one beyond and he who raises himself nearest the perfect man, best uses the span from birth to death. in and through music, especially on its side of education, more can be done than can be in any other way. general culture, college education, mental development are, in their proper place, to be used but neither will do so much for man as will music. in thus developing that faculty we acquire something also, which, as executant musicians, gives us delightful influence over our fellows. such is the possibility of a teacher to so make mankind better that he becomes a noble instrument of service in god's hand. but he who knows his position best and by regularity of mind, body and estate, by system, certainty and reliability, obtains the confidence of the musical public, can best be used as an instrument in that service. assert individuality. personal freedom of action must for a time be surrendered by pupil to teacher but it should be for limited time only. the impress of the teacher's mind can be made upon the pupil in two seasons of study if it can be at all. perhaps most pupils receive all that the teacher can give them in six months. as soon as they have that should they leave that teacher? not at all. they should then begin the use of their own individuality--letting it, little by little, assert itself. the practical application of individuality should be as carefully attended to as is any part of the pupil's education. perhaps it should have more attention. more than one, more than a thousand, every year wrecks her good and great future by what we term wilfulness or waywardness. the name is misapplied. the individuality is then asserting itself and it is then that the pupil needs the skillful and firm hand of the master. the keen clear judgment which comes from experience is worth to the pupil more than the cost of many lessons. the life is planned then. it is a time of bending the twig; the tree grows that way. the wrecking which is so often seen arises because the pupil changes to a teacher who does not understand the case. the new teacher must study it all over. before that can be done the pupil is spoiled and disappears, disappointed and disgusted. receive the personality of the teacher, pupils, but then allow him to lead you onward as you bring out your own individuality. educing. educing is bringing out or causing to appear. teachers impart and call that educating. the reverse of the common way is best. instead of imparting all the time to the pupil seek to draw out from the pupil that which is in him. cause it to appear. in this way will one's teaching faculty be improved and he will become the better teacher. often the education must be against counter influences and, it seems frequently, as if it were against the wish of the student himself. yet the skillful teacher can overcome the prejudice of the pupil and the adverse influences, and reach his results. a help in thus using one's skill lies in the fact that what is to be drawn out lies divided into two distinct classes. one is that which pertains to execution and the other to knowledge. they are widely separated. the first is to be trained so that it cares for itself without the thought of the student or singer and the other so that it is always ready to respond to the quickest thought. there is in the two classes variety enough to keep the most active teacher on the alert and to make for him the highest kind of ministration to mankind which is open to anyone. later may come the comfort of joining the two classes, synthetically, thereby making the rounded and completed artist. it occurs to one's thought at once that he who would draw out what there is in another, must know something of the machinery which he would cause to act and also of the mind which is in command of that machinery. this is the basis of the teacher's education, without which he cannot be a good teacher. as a young teacher he has the right to teach those who know less than he does. he imparts then. as an educator he must be more than what he was at first. he must keep his own education above that of his fellows and he must become able to educe. chapter vi. cuneus cuneum trudit. "_art! who can say that he fathoms it! who is there capable of discussing the nature of this great goddess?_" =beethoven=. "_whatever the relations of music, it will never cease to be the noblest and purest of arts_." =wagner=. vi. "cuneus cuneum trudit." vocal tone. all vocal tone used in singing when produced at the vocal bands is small and probably always about alike. the tone which we hear is "colored", "re-inforced" etc., on the way from the vocal bands to the outer air. in order that the tone shall carry well and be heard in purity throughout a hall, the initial tone must be added to. this is done by its reverberation in cavities where there is confined air. by confined, is meant, air which is not being greatly disturbed. there are four such cavities, or chambers, in connection with the production of voice. the chest, the ventricles, the inner mouth and the nose. to have the tone resonant the air in these chambers must be held in confinement. the way they can be utilized is best illustrated by the drum. a blow on the drum-head sets the air in the drum into vibration and that air re-inforces the tone caused by the original blow. tone made by the vocal bands is re-inforced by vibration in the chambers of the body, and the connection of these chambers with the outer air sets into vibration the air of the room. something might be said about the thickness of clothing to be worn over the chest while singing. it is certain that thick woolens worn during singing, absorb much of the vibration of the tone and lessen the amount of voice. tone comes from the whole body and chiefly from the chambers in which air is confined. our singing tone does not come out of the mouth alone. it comes from shoulders, back and chest without going near the mouth. the stillness with which the air is held in the chambers of vibration has much influence upon the volume of tone, and upon the quality. just now we will consider the chamber within the mouth. the space between the back of the throat (as seen in a mirror) and the teeth is this chamber. the air in this must be held as still as it can be. the practical way of doing it, and the way of telling pupils how to use themselves so that they can do it, tax the ingenuity of the teacher. a picture, or an image, is the best way perhaps. the air in the mouth should be like the water of a still lake. into it, at one end, a gentle stream may flow. it does not disturb the lake. it causes a ripple where it enters. it may raise the elevation of the water in the lake, and the superfluous water may flow off at the other end of the lake. now, suppose a mountain stream comes rushing into the lake. it stirs everything up, and rushes out at the outlet in the same rough way. in the still chamber of air in the mouth there must be no "mountain streams." the quiet lake must be imitated. a little air, which has been vibrated at the vocal bands may enter it, and not disturb it. that initial tone, always a quiet one, will be re-inforced by vibration in the mouth and will issue forth large and round. the amplitude of vibration will determine its volume. the shape and size of the cavity of reverberation can constantly and instantly change and by such change the tone can be regulated. the chamber of still air cannot be utilized unless the organs of respiration are working correctly and strongly. a forceful blast of air sent through the mouth will dissipate all vibrating waves. it is useless to try to the initial tone until after the diaphragm is in good working order. when that is all right then employ the re-inforcing chamber in the way given above and resonance of tone will be obtained. it is by so using the respiratory column and re-inforcing the tone made by the vocal bands that a person can be made a good vocalist in a few weeks. it is not necessary to take years to cultivate the voice. (it _is_ to make a good singer.) from five to eight weeks, if the student does right, will perfectly cultivate a voice. true art is delicate. all true art is delicate. music is the most delicate of all arts. music is expressed through thought and emotion. in this, music has much the advantage over sister arts. the sculptor can chisel his thoughts into marble, and there they can imperishably remain. to what small extent can he express human emotion! the painter also places his thought on canvas. as his art is more easily within his grasp, to change at will, he is enabled more fully to express emotion than is the sculptor. his finished work remains. while at work upon it he may change here and there to suit himself. that line and that shade of color, if not satisfactory, can be changed. not so in music. at one stroke--in one tone even--the musician must express his emotion--and that expression, once uttered, is all that he can use of his art. it is a delicate thing and requires sure thought, complete mastery of emotion, and perfect ability in execution. each and every stroke must be perfect. voice culture is the preparation of the body and its expression--voice--for use in this delicate art. voice culture is that through which we approach art. it cannot be roughly handled. if art is to be delicately used, it must be delicately approached. he whose vocal practice is forceful and rough will never know the delicacy of true art. he may become a vocalist after whom the ignorant public will clamor, but he can never be an artist. seek the delicacy of true art, or decide to be forever a rough mechanic. one may hew wood or quarry rocks, or he may be a worker among jewels and precious stones. it is a time to say "decide this day which you will serve." the two masters do not belong to the same firm and both cannot be served at the same time. words and tone should agree. while singing, words and tone should agree. what does that mean, asks one. it can be well stated when we consider how they do not agree. if one sings "sing ye aloud, with gladness," with a sombre tone the words and tone belie each other. this result invariably follows the attempt to cultivate the voice on vowels only, or on one single vowel. he who watches tone while cultivating his voice reaches this result. we express our thought while singing in words. words are made by the organs of speech, the chief of which are the tongue and lips. the tone receives its expression from the pharyngeal cavity. if tone and words agree, the tongue, lips and pharynx will work harmoniously in accord. it is when one or the other does not work correctly that one belies the other. training of the organs of speech has been written upon so extensively that for now more need not be said. suffice it to say, that the organs of speech can be trained upon a few enunciatory syllables in a short time, so that every word can be distinctly understood. there is no excuse whatever for our singers remaining so indistinct in their singing. the way of getting the tone to agree with the words, is what may be considered now. as said above, tone is regulated, so far as quality goes, in the pharynx. that organ can be put into working order and kept so through the expression of the face. the same thought is expressed on the throat which is expressed on the face. the same set of nerves operates the two organs. to show what is meant, recall that if you hear someone utter a cry, you know from its sound whether it is a cry of fright, of happiness, of fear, of greeting, of anger, or whatever it may be. the position and shape of the pharynx has made the cry what it is. one standing near the person would see on his face the look which corresponds with the cry uttered. in this case the word and the tone correspond. it is not easy to reach the pharynx for voice culture, except through the face. it can be reached in that way. the tone for general use in voice culture should be the bright one. then the expression during vocal practice should be a bright one. all vocal exercises should be, on this account, practised with the face pleasant and expressing happiness. this fact led many teachers, years ago, to have their pupils smile while singing. it led to most ludicrous results. the teachers said, "draw back the corners of the mouth, as if smiling." very well. that may be good, but it has no particular beneficial influence on the pharynx, or upon the tone produced. the mouth is not the seat of expression in the face. not that there is no expression to the mouth, but its changes are limited. the eyes are much more thoroughly the seat of expression, and through them the pharynx can be reached. let the eyes smile. let the whole face take position as if one saw something irresistibly funny, at which he must laugh. practice with the eyes in this way will brighten the whole voice. it will relieve strain upon all the facial muscles and will render the organs of speech more pliable, too. having obtained such control of the eyes that one expression can be placed in them, the student can attempt other desirable expressions. he will find that whatever is used in and about the eyes will affect the kind and quality of tone. he may arouse his interest in some particular thought and hold that in mind as he sings; the voice will then have warmth of tone and will readily receive meanings. he may express varying degrees of surprise in the face and he will find varying degrees, to correspond, of fulness and roundness go into the voice. the use of expression in the face as a means of giving character and quality to tone opens a field of experiment and experience which will lead any teacher to practical and beneficial result. it is not a new idea. salvini, the great actor, has given some very useful thought on that subject. little of such instruction, important as it is, has gone into print. yet it is so important. preparation for teaching. there are many who become teachers of singing without knowing what they are doing. no one who wishes to enter the profession should be kept out of it. there is room in it for many times the number engaged. it is to be earnestly recommended, however, that he who intends to become a teacher should decide beforehand what kind of work he intends to do, and after he has begun, he should bend his energy to make that branch successful. there are, at least, three distinct specialties of the singing teacher. first, rudimental music; second, voice culture; third, artistic singing. he who thinks he can excel in all has very great confidence in his own ability. perhaps most of those who become teachers have no adequate knowledge of what the profession is, but enter into it for the purpose of making a living. after becoming a teacher he discovers that something is wrong, and the last person whom he thinks wrong is himself. probably he has never decided on a specialty and properly prepared himself for that. thus we see men who know something about music, teaching singing. they know nothing of practical voice culture, but attempt to teach singing. they ruin voices and wreck their own happiness. the first duty of a singing teacher is to study enough of anatomy and physiology to enable him to know exactly what parts of the body enter into voice culture, where they are and how they work. the dentist makes his specialty, filling teeth. but he would not be given his diploma if he did not know anatomy. his course in the medical college is the same as that of the physician. it differs in degree, but not in kind. such should be the education, to a certain extent, of the vocal teacher. this education cannot be had from any books now published. plain anatomy can be given in books, but the student should also see the parts described in the subject. he should then examine, so far as may be, the action of these parts in the living body. he must then make his own deductions. it may seem strange that that is necessary, but such is the subtlety of voice culture, that hardly two theorists agree in their deductions. until some recognized body of men decides on definite things in voice culture, reducing one's theoretical study to practical uses must stand. as important as such study, too, is the preparation of the artist mind. one can teach voice culture mechanically and obtain good result, but be very deficient in the art of music. it is often said that "artists are born, not made." that is a mistake. no man was ever an artist by birth. some men may be more appreciative of beauty than others but all men have enough within them to serve as the basis of artistic education. that education should be carried to a considerable distance before teaching is commenced. almost as soon as the voice is capable of making any tone, music must be put into study. appreciation of music itself as an art, must be a part of the good teacher's preparation. knowledge of greater and better music comes from that appreciation with the years of experience in teaching. if the artist mind has not begun to assert itself before business is attempted, business will be likely to absorb the teacher, and he stands the chance of never being an artist. one who combines scientific knowledge of voice culture and an understanding of the art of music is well equipped for entering the profession of teaching vocal music. only such should enter it. with that as foundation, the experience of each year will make him a better teacher. without that as foundation he will probably remain, vocally and musically, about where he was when he began. financial success may come, but musical success never can. experience. a very good reason, but one which individuals can attend to, why we have so few artists among singers, is that so few take time to gain experience. there must be many appearances before audiences before the _amateurishness_ is worn off. singers often think, when they hear a noted singer, that they could do just as well as that and perhaps better, and yet they cannot get professional engagements. it may all be true, that they can do just as well as the artist, but in appearance and self-command they may be deficient. experience cannot come in a day or a season. if it could what a crowd of singers would become noted. it takes much time--years of time. one cannot safely feel that he has had experience enough to place himself among the professional singers until he has appeared at least fifty times. how many of our readers have done that? many visit the large cities and seek engagements who have great talent and have the probability of complete success in them, but who have had so little proper experience that their first appearance in the large city, would be a failure. managers of experience perceive this state of affairs and refuse to give engagements on that account. gain that appearance necessary to the artist by singing before public audiences everywhere, at church festivals, benefit concerts, parlor receptions, college recitals, anywhere where an audience can be entertained. study your influence over your audience and learn how to so express your art in your voice and singing that your audiences are your subjects. concert after concert must pass before you know your own power in song. year after year will go bye, before it is safe to approach the critical audiences of large cities. before an audience. when singing before an audience in a hall, do not look on the music. a glance at it may be made from time to time but keep the eyes off. a singer appears very ridiculous if he looks on the page. a song is a story told by the singer in the singing voice. it is not a lesson read from a book. the story cannot be well told if the singer has only half learned it. if he is confined to his notes he attracts attention to himself and that spoils art and the artist. it is best to learn by rote the music to be sung, and when it can be done, to leave the music in some place out of the hands. if it must be carried, have it as much out of the way as possible. a singer of much fame, spoiled his evening's work recently by fixing his eyes on his music all the time while singing. this may have been an exceptional evening, but if he does that all the time, he is no artist, in spite of his repute, and ought not to receive engagements even if he has a fine bass voice. come up higher. the man makes the musician as does the musician make the man. the rules of life which make men better make the musician better. there is a constant call in life to "come up higher!" he who has lost the sound of that call is at a standstill, or rather, since there can be no stopping, he is sinking from the place once gained. get within the sound of that call and heed it. there are no heights so great, but that they form the base to heights beyond. music is so rich and full that no man can understand it all and no man has reached the highest place in it. the call ever sounds "come up higher!" music fills all which contains life, and uses all materials for its transmittance. the air, a subtle ether, is filled with a still finer ether, on which sound travels. that ether is filled with vibration. it is ever present. the connection with it can be made at any moment and the musical thought can be sent off into unlimited space, to influence all within that space. to be able to use this at its best the thought which is musical must be raised to divine thought. the possibilities in that are boundless. musicians cannot stop. the year may roll around and one may feel himself doing a great and good work, doing a work which seems to be well rounded; a work which leaves the musician, as the end of a season rolls around, exhausted from labor, and ready to say that the end of his work is reached, that he has gone to his greatest height. not so, however. next year is a height to be ascended, and that of the present moment is but the base of that greater height. music calls "come up higher." crude voices express no emotion. an untrained voice can never have correct emotion expressed in it. the voice responds as truly to the thought which passes in the mind as does the leaf bend before the breeze. the singing voice is an extension of the speaking voice, and since nature planned only for speaking purposes, in order to have the organs which produce voice in proper condition for singing, there must be that degree of physical drill which makes the vocal apparatus able to convey in proper pitch and quality, the thought of the mind. the untrained voice will not do this. the throat becomes rigid, the pharynx strained and in-elastic. emotion cannot be expressed when the vocal apparatus is thus held. one may have a beautiful natural voice and he may arouse the enthusiasm of certain of his hearers, but he cannot, without careful training do a tithe of what he is able to do. that is sufficient reason for teachers to urge all who sing at all to place themselves under the best of tuition. all who talk pleasantly have the power to sing. the exceptions to the rule are so few that they amount to but a very small percentage. but all who do sing, if they would rightly use their gift should train themselves to do whatever they do, well. chapter vii. ambition. "character is the internal life of a piece, engendered by the composer; sentiment is the external expression, given to the work by the interpreter. character is an intrinsic positive part of a composition; sentiment an extrinsic, personal matter only." =christiani.= vii. ambition. the very first question to ask of an applicant for vocal lessons is "what is your ambition?" by that, i mean, the teacher should know at the very start what purpose the pupil has in study, or if he has any purpose. the intention of the pupil should make a difference in the consideration given to the pupil in the matter of voice trial. if an applicant says he wishes to sing in opera and the teacher sees that he lacks all capacity for such high position, he should frankly say so; if the applicant says that he wishes to learn to sing well that he may have pleasure in his own singing and give pleasure to his friends, that should be taken into account. such person, provided he has any voice and musical instinct, can reach the height of his ambition and his study should be encouraged. the first visit of an applicant to a teacher is a most important event in the life of the pupil. the importance of it is not appreciated. to very many persons it marks a change--a veritable conversion--in their lives. a mistake made by the teacher with regard to the future of the pupil is a serious matter. that visit gives the teacher his chance to plan his treatment and is akin to the diagnosis of the physician. the pupil places himself in the hands of the teacher as thoroughly as does the patient give himself over to the physician. the case assumes importance from this fact. responsibility by the teacher is assumed. the musical future of the pupil is in his hands. it may be for the good of the pupil that he found his particular teacher and it may not be. "what is your ambition regarding your music?" is the safeguard of the teacher. knowing that, he can have a basis for examination and a ground for promises to the student. in the large cities, teachers are troubled with that which would be very amusing were it not for the sad part of it. students of music come from the smaller cities and from the country and begin a series of visits to the different studios for the purpose of selecting a teacher. everyone seems to recommend a new teacher and the student calls upon all. the result is surely disastrous to the pupil. he or she is left in doubt as to whom to go for study. the different promises made, the compliments paid, the hopes of ambition raised, are all enough to unbalance the judgment of older heads than those who usually seek the music studio. when a teacher is finally selected, it takes a long time to settle down into confidence in him so that the best result can be obtained. i said it would be amusing to the teacher were it not sad. i have known persons to boast that they had had "as good as a lesson" from the different teachers visited. i even know men who are teaching voice culture and singing in this city who claim to teach certain methods, and all they know of those methods is what they picked up in the interviews which they pretended were to see about arranging for study. as if any man of experience would give (or could give) his instruction in a talk of ten or fifteen minutes! the men who have ways of teaching which are so good that they bring valuable renown are too shrewd to be caught in any such way as that. what shall be done about such persons? nothing. let them alone. they die out after a time. were there any way to prevent other people from following their example it would be a most excellent thing. but as society is made up, as long as the flash of a piece of glass passes for the sparkle of a diamond just so long will the cheater spring up, flourish and disappear. a question more to the point is "how can the racing from studio to studio be stopped?" i frankly say that i do not know. generally i avoid bringing up a subject which has not in my own mind reached solution. i can suggest remedies if not cures. by writing about it some little help may be given the student. the remedy--nearly all city teachers have some special branch, a branch in which they obtain satisfactory results. one succeeds in italian opera, another in voice culture; one in rudimental study, another in oratorio; one has many pupils in church choirs, another forms delightful classes of society pupils. "what is your ambition?" find that teacher whose general reputation is in that which you want to do and be, and commence study with him. a very few lessons with that teacher--say ten lessons--will tell the student whether he is the right teacher or not. probably the teacher will prove satisfactory. if not, by that time--acquaintance with the teachers of the city will permit more certain selection, the second time. "but," say you, "those ten lessons have cost something." true, but they have not cost half as much as it costs to settle an unbalanced mind. to return to the first question, what is your ambition? has it ever occurred to you to wonder what becomes of all the music students--how many are there? who can tell? one teacher boasts of having given four hundred vocal lessons last month; another caps that by claiming five hundred. allow for all exaggeration, and say that these teachers (and thirty or forty others had as many students at work) had all they could do. they had from thirty to fifty pupils under study. what is to become of them, and how many ever amount to anything? the teacher has responsibility. he who receives every person who applies, especially if he tells him what a good voice he has and how well he can sing after a term or two, borders very nearly upon the scoundrel, or else the fool. if he thinks he can make a singer out of every person who comes to him he is the fool; if he flatters a person whom he knows can never become a singer, he is a scoundrel. he who is wise will find out the desire of the applicant and tell him frankly whether or not he can reach the desired goal. if he thinks it cannot be done there is no objection to his pointing out some other channel of musical usefulness and advising him to enter that. if the applicant has no aptitude for the desired study the only honest course is to tell him not to waste time and money on his voice. any conscientious teacher feels a shudder sometimes over the responsibility of his position when the thought comes up "what becomes of all the music students?" we can ask "what becomes of the pins?" and have the question answered. the material of which they are made can be supplied anew. "so," say you, "will new pupils come." but those who are now studying must be made something of. the day they begin study a new world opens to them. is it for good or ill? that remains for the teacher to solve. every true teacher improves every pupil who studies with him. some of them will become good singers and fine musicians. these are the ones most talked about and the teacher finds pleasure in the added reputation which they bring, but the others have the right to demand that they shall be raised to a higher plain of life because of their music lessons. what becomes of all the ambitious youths and maidens who study singing? only one or two now and then amount to very much in professional life. thousands attempt to be "patties," but who has reached her height? some one is at fault that this is so. whatever belongs to the singing teacher, let him assume, but let him keep in mind that there is something to guard in the future. over in milan, ten years or more ago, while a student there, i met a great many americans who like myself were there for study. i was told that at least two thousand american young ladies were there. probably more than half of them expected to become successful singers in grand opera. how many successful singers in grand opera have appeared during the last ten years? a very few surely. what has become of the "ninety and nine?" of that, say nothing. i saw the wretched lives they were leading at milan--most of them--and advised, nay, begged, that they would go home to america and do anything for a living if they must work, rather than to stay there. taking in washing would be much more ennobling than what some of them were doing. whose fault was it that so many were there, and that so many are there all the time? teachers of singing here at home must sooner or later realize that they did it. how, when, or for what purpose? well, much might be said which will not be. had an honest expression of the belief regarding the possibility of gratifying the original ambition been given, very much of the wrong done could have been avoided. one of the reasons why many people try to learn to sing is because some one has urged them to do so. the person who arouses the interest in another does a necessary act, and yet there should be a good degree of caution used in the matter. this article will be read by thousands who are now students, and as the aim of the magazine is to educate, let us see what word can be formed in the idea of this paragraph, which will make students better able to use judgment in inducing others to study. do not cease in the efforts to bring others into musical work, but let your effort be tempered with discretion. when you hear a person sing who evidently enjoys it, whose face beams with pleasure, and whose voice pleases her hearers; when, in a word, you hear one who has a voice, and has intelligence enough to understand himself and his music, then learn if he has given serious study to music. if not, urge him to see a master at once. do not, however, when you hear a person labor through a song, with act painful to himself and everybody else, urge him to go a teacher, "and learn how." well, reader, "what is _your_ ambition?" have you any? if not, get one pretty soon. i would say that before another sun sets, you should have a settled purpose in your vocal study and follow that purpose to a definite end. that matter settled you will do more than ever before. it is a matter which _you_ must settle. others may suggest and advise, but you must decide it, yourself. i would not continue study without a fixed purpose. a poor purpose is better than none. shall i tell you of some of the ambitions which students have, and say a word about them? perhaps you will get a useful idea from that. the best use of lessons in music is that you may know music and how to use it for pleasure wherever you may be placed. this means that the study should be for education itself and not for the financial return which the study may bring. study for the culture of a beautiful art--for the improvement of the mind, for the refinement which comes with associating with that which is pure. when one tells a teacher that this is his ambition, he will in many cases find that the teacher wishes him to work for something besides. a church choir is something of that sort. there is no reason why one should not have other ambitions, but the highest ambition which one can have is to make himself a musician of the highest and best kind. the whole journey toward becoming such is pleasant. whoever goes but one mile along the road has his reward, and each additional mile brings its additional reward. anyone can have this ambition in his study, and he who is most faithful and has the most intelligence will make the most progress and do the best in a given time. people who have little or none of that which is called musical genius can so develop that talent which they possess that they will be accounted musical. those who have more can do almost anything. the class of persons who study with this ambition is larger, proportionately, in small cities than it is in the large ones. it is a fact that people are, in many small cities, better educated in music in which they can participate individually, than are the people of large cities. the students enter for long periods of study and follow those studies which do them the most good. with them the ambition to be musical and to have a good musical education is upper-most in mind. it is the best ambition to have. even if no other use is made of the study, that education well repays one for all the time and money devoted to it. the choicest moments of life are while directly participating in music, or while engaged in that of which music is the accompaniment. our association with friends in their homes and in our own is sweetened by music; our tired brains are rested at the concert, the opera, and the theatre; our seasons of deepest devotion and greatest spiritual delight, when we are at the house of worship are made more holy because the sacred words are beautified by music. every act which can be looked back upon even to the child days, when the little songs of the school children were ours, has its embellishment of music. whatever we do to increase our appreciation of music, to make us better able to make music, and to add to the charm of life of our own circle, is profitable. the good of it comes to us every day, and in addition it prepares us the better for that higher life to which we are all hastening, because it makes more beautiful the soul. the ambition to study for music itself is, then, the best ambition to have. the majority of those who present themselves to the city teacher wish to sing in church choirs. the reason is plain. there is some chance for financial return. there is also on the part of many a certain sense of duty to the church which they wish to fulfil by participating in its services. there are many things to be said on this whole subject and when such things are spoken it should be with no uncertain tone. the ambition to become a church singer should be held within certain bounds. the path to become such and the gratification which comes from the work accomplished are not such as most persons think they are. of course the study to become able to sing in a church choir is altogether delightful. to prepare the voice so that it can be used as a means of interpreting the best church music is the best part of voice culture. tones of good power, pure quality, evenness, and fair range, are absolutely necessary. no greater pleasure comes into voice culture than the training to be able to do just such work. then the music of the church is satisfying. there is more to it than the light music of the parlor or light opera, more that appeals to deep feeling, more with which we can arouse our hearers. with regard to the wish to serve the church by our vocal powers, it may be said that while that is laudable, it is one that disappears very soon after one has the chance to put it into practical use. the wish is a bit of sentiment, and there is nothing like the practical to dispel sentiment. this brings us to a consideration of the choir and whether the ambition to become a choir singer is worth anything or not. in small places the choir singer is at once a person of some note. that note which the position gives has a value. the country choir becomes a sociable club (although composed of only four persons) and the friendship which each has for the other is a thing to be prized. country choirs generally practise enough to have the voices blend and to have the singing good. there is some pleasure in singing in such a choir. but does it pay, financially? in some places it does, and he who is in a paying position in a country choir has the best place of any one in choir work. how many, though, of those who go to the teacher with the ambition to study for the choir would feel contented to take such a place as that? no, they want a place in the city choir, and at large salary. have they ability enough to fill such position, and could they hold the position if they obtained it? the competition for choir positions in a city like new york is very great indeed. let it be known that a vacancy is to occur in any church choir and hundreds if not thousands of applications are made. only one person can have the place. the work of selecting one person out of the many applicants begins. it is at this point that the student feels the sentiment regarding singing in church begin to disappear. she feels that she is not being given a fair chance. she supposes that that which would give her the position is good voice, good singing and a good character. as sad as it may seem, she is decidedly wrong. that which is wanted in most city churches is "style" in body and dress, a comely face and vivacious manner. if the applicant lacks these she may as well not try, no matter what her musical acquirements may be. in fact, there are many singers in church choirs of new york and brooklyn who haven't the least claim to be singers at all. then regarding pay for choir singers in these cities. there is very little money in it. salaries have been reduced and there are always those content to take the places at the lower figure. the majority of singers in these cities get less than $ a year. deduct from that the cost of car-fares, extra clothing, and the little incidentals which count up, and not one half of that amount remains as income. that does not pay to work for. the time and labor used in earning it could be better used in something else. a better money return could be had from that time in a dozen different things by any person who has ability enough to become a singer in a city church on salary. nor is the possibility of obtaining a greater salary in later years to be taken into account. if an increased salary does come increased expenses come with it. even if, after years of waiting, the student makes herself a fine singer and is competent to take a high place, she finds herself set one side for a fresh face and a new voice. that is a picture which is not pleasant; but which is true to life. one may ask if there is no work in choir or church for which one can prepare himself and which will be pleasant and desirable. yes, in two directions;--first, when one is so trained that she is very desirable as a solo singer--one who can sing sacred songs well--she can find a position in which she has this and no other work to do. she then avoids competition, because her fame attracts the church to her. she has no long and trying rehearsals and she can be an artist as well as a church singer. but how many years of study this takes! is your ambition equal to it? the second line of pleasureable work is, that of the choir-leader. unhappily for singers, in most of the city churches the organist is made choir-leader; even in the vested choirs of the episcopal church. this is not well for the choir or the church, but we must take things as we find them. when one is competent to superintend the music of the church and can find a choir to take charge of he is a happy singer. these two positions--of professional choir soloist and of choir-director--are the only satisfactory ones in the large cities. in connection with this it may be said that if one wishes to take a prominent position as concert singer it is almost necessary that he should hold a church choir position. at least he needs that until his fame as a concert singer is great. managers of concerts in various sections of the country ask the very first thing, "where does he sing?" if he is connected with a city choir he is placed. the choir gives him position. concert singing is the field most widely opened and most easily filled of any to which a singer can aspire. every year the concert field broadens. the so-called "grand" concerts of the last generation have disappeared, and that is better for the singer. concert singing is more thoroughly a business and it is one worthy the ambition of any vocal student. not that it is always pleasant business--what is, for that matter?--but it is something which can be entered upon on business lines, and one can make a place for himself in it. his first work is, of course, vocal and musical preparation. he should begin as soon as he can sing well enough to appear before an audience at all, to sing whenever and wherever he can get the chance. this is for practice and not for pay. no one ought to expect pay before he has sung at fifty or sixty entertainments without pay. he must have that amount of practice on his audiences. if he has improved his opportunities his name will be known by the time that period of experience is over and he can then begin to demand a small fee. the smaller the better for him. he can then begin to send his name abroad as an applicant for more remuneration. step by step he can improve in ability and increase his income. it is a work to which all can be directed. it takes years to make any goodly success at it. three years are needed to make a good beginning, but when one looks back over a life, three years of preparation do not seem long. with regard to singing in opera and theatre a word can be given at another time. an outline of what might be said is this:--grand opera is very limited, and only few can become opera singers in grand opera; light opera presents a good field for the gratification of ambition, under certain conditions; the theatre presents a good field for vocalists to those who feel inclined to enter theatrical life. chapter viii. music and longevity. "_were it not for music, we might, in these days, say the beautiful is dead._" =d'israeli.= "_i verily think, and i am not ashamed to say that, next to divinity, no art is comparable to music._" =luther.= viii. music and longevity. perhaps no one chooses to question the statement that length of human life is greater in our generation than it was in the last, and much greater than it was one or two centuries ago, in the face of statistics which the medical profession puts forth. question of such statement implies a hidden motive in the medical profession. possibly that profession might have a motive in leading people to believe that life lasts longer. if there is such motive it is for the good of men. it also recognises the influence of mind over matter as a preserving force. doctors are anxious more than can be imagined to do all they can for the benefit of mankind. no class of men (or of women, since we have women in the profession) strives harder to do good. their very code of ethics is based on self-sacrifice. the inventions, the discoveries, the devices which that profession now uses are such as bewilder and astonish one who only now and then has a chance to see their work. but a generation ago, and the sick man was loaded with charge after charge of drugs. it was only the generation before, that the sick man was bled in great quantities for every ailment. that was a change from generation to generation. but a little while ago a new school of medicine sprung up in which drugs were almost wholly discarded. attenuation to the thousandth or even the five-thousandth part, was used, and when drugs are so attenuated, there is not much left to them. such success has attended the homeopathist that he must be recognised. who shall say but that another step may be taken or has been taken, in dropping the use of drugs and medicines entirely? all these schools and schemes have borne their part in prolonging human life, or more properly speaking, prolonging life in the human body. it is but recently that the influence of music in the cure of disease has been given professional thought. its influence has been known for a long time but has not been properly placed and appreciated. this discussion may be the one thing to bring it before the world. metaphysics--that is a word which we hear from mouth to mouth, nowadays. what does it mean? briefly "the scientific knowledge of mental phenomena." we have almost come to think that it is something mythical, or even relating to the supernatural. but it is "_scientific knowledge_." even our magazines which talk upon "psychical research" drift off into spiritualism and hallucinations. the writers do not keep to the text. metaphysics is a science--and that science which deals with the most real and tangible. it deals with phenomena. it deals with mind itself. now, mind is tangible and real. it is that part of us which came from the creator--was from the beginning--has no end--and is in these bodies of ours for a time only. which from this definition, is more tangible? mind or body? there is no longevity to mind. from eternity it came--to eternity it goes. no measure can be applied to it. body, that which we see and handle and in which we believe mind to reside, is quite another thing. it begins--it lasts for a time, ever struggling against forces which tend to destroy it--and drops at last into mother earth or the elements. that which we try to prolong is the existence in living condition, of the body. the keeper of that body is the mind, and whatever is done successfully to that body is done through the mind. medical treatment is well enough in its place, and i am not to quarrel with the man who wants to use that, but mental treatment, (and i do not choose to be classed with the various isms now before the public which have grasped one corner of the subject and are tugging away at that) is the one thing by which and through which the body is to be affected. by that is human life to be prolonged. music affects the mind. if it affects the body it does it through the mind. we say, when the dance begins that we can't keep still. what is the "we?" our bodies. not at all. our mental perception is alert, and it recognises the vivacity of the dance and responds to it. in a moment the body answers the mind and whirls out over the floor in rhythm and in sympathy with the musical action. again music seeks the minor thought and we are subdued into seriousness, or maybe, worship of the beautiful, the good, and god. was it the body, fighting against disease and death which thus responded? not at all. the mind, in which there ever rests the appreciation of all that there is in god, (and that includes beauty, bounty and truth) felt itself influenced by the music. that influence was extended to the body. you cannot enter good without getting good, mental and physical. there is nothing which has the tendency to reduce the average of human life as much as debauchery. that causes early decay. that wears out the body. that nourishes the seeds of disease. but, say you, if mind is the controlling force over the body, metaphysics over physics, why cannot one engage in any wildness which he chooses to fancy, and enjoy life. a gay life and a merry one. are we to come down into soberness and somberness to preserve these bodies of ours? can't we look back into the days of a jolly good dinner with a draught, deep from the pewter pot, of nut-brown ale, can't we joke with every pretty face we see, whether under a bonnet or not, can't we even become falstaffs, if we feel like it, and yet keep ourselves alive to the full of days, if mind can control body? yes, yes! but can mind stand such things--can mind keep itself in touch with the source of what is good, in such conditions? if it can, enjoy all debauchery. if not, for the preservation of self, keep out of it. now there are various kinds of debauchery, and not the least of these is music itself, wrongly used. and herein lies the point which i would make. herein lies the point of the practical, or you may say if you choose, the didactical, side of the question; the point where our music touches our longevity. music of the intellectual kind is the only music which can have ennobling influence upon the human mind and keep it in equipoise. the dance, the sentimental, the pleasing, has its place i admit. but to the musician that which lacks the scientific, lacks everything. how many of us care to attend a concert, an opera of the light vein, or that of a brass band, as perhaps we once did? that pretty, catchy song, let it be sung ever so well, has lost an awakening influence upon us. even a patti is gone by to us. we call a pianist old-fashioned. is he really so? are not we becoming new-fashioned? are not we becoming so keenly alive to the intellectual that, unless we watch phrases and periods, theses and antitheses, sequences and cadences, melody against melody, we have no satisfaction in music. then we run from music to music trying to hear some new thing, until we become almost unbalanced in mind. we become hyper-critical, sensitive to faults, irritable over remissnesses, until those conditions become a part of our disposition, and the musician becomes the crank. that is musical debauchery and i contend that that will shorten the life of any man. which leads me to ask the question, can there not be such a thing as an overdose of music, just as there is an overdose of drug? and does it not behoove us, now that we have started a medico-musical-mental treatment of this poor body of ours, to beware lest we shorten its existence rather than prolong it. but _art_--that which calls for the highest in man--must surely be a benefit to man. mrs. rogers says "those who approach art because art first reached out its arms to them, and who approach it on their knees, with faith, with hope, with love, with religion, thinking not of self, nor of aught that shall result to them from their devotion to it, but that only through art, they may utter truth, and so fulfill art's real purpose, and with it the highest purpose of their own life--those shall indeed know the blessedness of power, of growth, of inspiration, of love." such art as that carries the mind down to the centre of all things from which all good springs. that centre is life. that life has for its great attribute the re-cuperation--the re-creation of all which it touches. the dwelling of that life--the body--is, by art such as that which that noble writer just quoted describes, made young every day and its days are prolonged on the face of the earth. this may be ideal to-day, but so many times has it been true, that "the ideal of to-day is the real of to-morrow," that even this may be the tangible medicine of the next generation. chapter ix. activity. "_life is a series of surprises. we do not guess to-day the work, the pleasure, the power of to-morrow, when we are building up our being._" =emerson.= "_chase back the shadows, grey and old,_ _of the dead ages, from his way,_ _and let his hopeful eyes behold_ _the dawn of thy millenial day._ " =whittier= ix. activity. fortunately, no two persons are exactly alike. if they were, the result would be the same and the everyday acts leading to a result would be the same. nature, acquiescing in the divine plan, has a different line of action and result for every individual which she creates. we find unlimited variety in man. the seat of activity is the mind and the first portion of the body to be acted upon by the mind is the brain. one man possesses more convolutions of brain than does another, and the fibre which extends from the gray matter to manipulate the many organs of the body which we constantly use is finer in one organism than in another. we recognize differences in classes of people and call one class nervous, and another, phlegmatic. so strongly are we influenced by public opinion that we honestly believe that a "slow" man cannot reach so great result in a lifetime as can a "quick" man. general opinion is usually wrong and it most certainly is in this case. nature has a work for each kind and each individual to do, the summing up of which, is the result of that life, and if the gifts of each individual have been properly used the result is success in life. it may be believed that the usefulness of each individual, if the life of each is perfectly carried out, will be equal to that of all others. the _apparent_ success may not be _real_ success. the active brain directs a responsive body. the more active the brain, the more active can the body be made. to make the body useful at all, the motion of its members must be well understood and perfectly commanded. herein lies the secret of success or failure. all want--not wish--success. (a wish may be a whim.) the saying "one thing at a time, etc.," has become obnoxious to us years ago, but in the idea contained in that lies the path to greatest activity. the active mind spreads itself. it schemes. all the plans which it suggests seem possible. why not carry them all out? merely because life is not long enough, nor mental and physical endurance strong enough, to do even the preliminary work of one tenth of the schemes which can come to an active mind in one day. cut them all off. it might be well to say "first come, first served," and take the first which comes and carry that to success, concentrating all thought and force upon its accomplishment. it may be a higher power which put the thought of that plan _first_ into mind. yet more narrowly would we draw the line which surrounds our activity. one must make the most of his force and strength. in the case of every man, woman and child living there is enormous waste of power. much more is wasted than is used. we have in years past stood beside niagara and thought if that power, apparently going to waste, could be used for moving machinery it could run the mills of the world, forgetting, or not knowing, that, in getting to the falls, we wasted enough mental and physical force to run our human machinery for a week. the thought flew, changing probably twice a second, to how many different things in the hour before. computation is easy. in the sixteen working hours of a day, perhaps, we think of things. isn't that wasteful? before the true plan of nature is carried out some (if not three-quarters) of this waste must be prevented. what has the body done in the hour before reaching niagara? the hands have wandered aimlessly, the feet have tapped the floor, the watch has been looked at a dozen times, the hat taken off and put on again, the card-case opened, half-looked at, and shut, and each act, with twenty more, has been repeated again and again. it was waste activity. it must be overcome. nature never intended you and me to be wasteful. these actions of mind, brain and body, are useful in their places, but we misuse them, using up strength and power. night comes and we are tired out, or think we are, which amounts to the same thing. who said "one thing at a time" was obnoxious to him? to gain our greatest power we must bring ourselves down to "one thing at a time." put your mind on that one thing. are you sharpening a pencil just now? don't read a book at the same time. are you placing your hat on your head? don't brush dust off the coat. are these things trivial? nothing is trivial in nature's plan. do not, in impatience, without trial, cast aside these suggestions. even give one hour each day for one week as a trial to doing what you do, perfectly, and think of it as a trial. the increased result in mental and physical activity will demonstrate the wisdom of the advice. strength is essential to successful labor. wildly beating the air in undirected effort is the element of greatest weakness. we smile at the antics of two chickens in their fight in the farmyard. in a few minutes they wear themselves out and go off to rest. are not we much like them? do we not use up our strength in useless effort? then, how often we rush off to the gymnasium or to the drug-store in the vain hope of regaining our strength. new strength is not to be found in either place. it is within ourselves all the time. stop the expenditure and permit re-cuperation through concentration. don't go lie down. don't take a nap. stop right where you are and bring the thought down to one thing, _strength_. for the moment allow the body to remain still. think strength, desire strength, command strength! it is yours. it belongs to you. it is all around you. it will take possession of you if you permit it. what say you? that it will not come at your bidding? are you sure? have you cleared the mind of the cobwebs--the two different things per second which can come into it? have you? until you have, don't give up the test. concentrate the thought upon strength, if that is what you want, and it will come. impatience is waste. you cannot afford it. it is too expensive. we are all children. we see a toy and we must have it instantly, even if it is, as it often is, a sharp tool, which cuts our hands. if that which we wish belongs to us, or is to be given to us, it will come in its time. we wish to do something _now_. we haven't the means, or we don't see our way clearly to do it. we bemoan our hard luck, and can't see why we can't have it. just so does the child about the toy. wait patiently, and if, in nature's plan, the thing is to come to us, it will come, and we can't prevent it. it will seem as if it came itself. impatience merely wears us out and uses up strength which nature wishes us to use in some other way. obey nature and carry out her purposes. activity which is useful, comes through directed effort. there may be _seeming_ activity which is worse than sluggishness, and which is certainly not desirable. directed effort comes best through calm mind and responsive body. silence and quietness, self-imposed, prepare the way to directed effort. cease everything, even thinking, so far as it can be stopped, and remain passive thirty seconds. then another thirty seconds. who cannot take one minute out of each hour in the day for preparing the mind and body for greater strength and activity? when night has come and we lay the body down to rest there are a few minutes when it can have the best preparation for the activity of the next day. the few minutes before sleep carries us into unconsciousness are dear and sweet minutes, if rightly used. then can the thought, which has been sent to thousands of things during the day, be brought back to its proper place. it should be centred upon one thing. the estimate is that the mind cannot be kept on one thing more than six seconds; but it can be returned to that one thing for several periods of six seconds each. we do not have the chance to return it many times, for sleep seizes us. let the thought selected be a pleasant one; of some happy spot or view; a sunset or refreshing shower. it is better to select something from nature rather than man, for such thought is likely to be unalloyed. the last thing at night, if pleasant, tends to give us the calmest rest and best prepares us for the next day. the well and strong body can be active and the temperament of the individual makes comparatively little difference. in this we may all take courage. every thoughtful person has had an occasional sad thought over his apparent impotence. no one need use less than his normal strength and activity. * * * * * corrections made by the etext transcriber: there has, however, ways of procedure been planned which must shorten the trip.=>there have been planned, however, ways of procedure which must shorten the trip. fortunately, no two persons are exactly alike. if there were=>fortunately, no two persons are exactly alike. if they were piano and song _how to teach, how to learn,_ and how to form a judgment of musical performances. translated from the german of friedrich wieck. boston: lockwood, brooks, & company. . entered according to act of congress, in the year , by noyes, holmes, and company, in the office of the librarian of congress, at washington. _cambridge:_ _press of john wilson and son._ translator's preface. friedrich wieck, the author of the work a translation of which is here offered to the public, was during his long life a distinguished teacher of music. he died in the autumn of . he was the father and teacher of the celebrated pianist, clara wieck, now fr. dr. clara schumann, widow of the renowned composer robert schumann, who was also a pupil of wieck. his second daughter, fräulein marie wieck, is well known in germany as an artistic performer on the piano-forte. i have translated this little book, with the belief that a knowledge of the author's views will be no less valuable in america than in his own country; and with the hope that it may find readers who will be glad to receive the suggestions of so experienced a teacher. in illustration of his method, in addition to the two etudes, already published by f. whistling, leipzig, a number of piano exercises, &c., selected from the literary remains of wieck, by his daughter marie wieck and his pupil louis grosse, are, it is said, about to be published. i have omitted in the translation a few portions on the composition and management of the opera, on the giving of concerts, and on the construction of the piano, thinking that they would be of little interest or practical value to the general public. mary p. nichols. preface to the first edition. i here present to the musical public a book written in a style of my own, not a scientific and systematically well-arranged treatise. this no reasonable man would expect of an old music-master, who, in his long practice in the realm of tones, could not arrive at learned and too often fruitless deductions. nature made me susceptible to that which is good and beautiful; a correct instinct and a tolerable understanding have taught me to avoid the false and the vicious; a desire for increased knowledge has led me to observe carefully whatever i met with in my path in life; and i may say, without hesitation, that i have endeavored, according to my ability, to fill the position to which i have been called. this is no vain boast, but only the justifiable assertion of a good conscience; and this no man needs to withhold. for these reasons, i have been unwilling to refrain from giving to the world a true expression of my opinions and feelings. i trust they will meet with a few sympathizing spirits who are willing to understand my aims; but i shall be still more happy if, here and there, a music-teacher will adopt the views here set forth, at the same time carefully and thoughtfully supplying many things which it did not enter into my plan to explain more in detail. abundant material lay spread out before me, and even increased upon my hands while i was writing. art is indeed so comprehensive, and every thing in life is so closely connected with it, that whoever loves and fosters it will daily find in it new sources of enjoyment and new incitements to study. the most experienced teacher of art must be a constant learner. i have always held and still hold the opinions advanced in this work, and i have neglected no opportunity to impress them upon my pupils. i may be allowed to mention here, with some satisfaction, my daughters clara and marie; and, among numerous other pupils, i speak with equal pleasure of the estimable herr waldemar heller, of dresden, and prof. e.f. wenzel, of leipzig. i have always enjoyed their affection and gratitude, and i feel a pride that they continue to defend and to teach the principles which they have received from me. this is not the first time that i have appeared as an author. the "signale für die musikalische welt," as well as the "neue zeitschrift für musik," have published numerous essays from my pen under various titles. the approval which they met with, at the time of their appearance, has induced me to undertake this larger work. several of those earlier writings are included in this book, but in a partially altered form. the frequently recurring character, the teacher dominie, originated with these essays; i need hardly say that he represents my humble self. those who are otherwise unacquainted with me will through him understand my character, and will moreover see that a man of such caustic brevity can be, by no means, a master of polished style. may this last acknowledgment appease all those critics whose hair is made to stand on end by my inelegant mode of writing. i will make no further apology for my style. i have often availed myself of the dialogue form, because it was conducive to brevity; not less frequently i have made use of the form of the epistle and of personal discourse, as being more congenial to my individual manner than that of a serious treatise. i have also undertaken to say something about singing! a piano-teacher, if he is possessed of mind and talent, as i suppose him to be, whether he teaches the elements or occupies himself with more advanced instruction, should understand the art of singing; he, at least, should show a warm interest in it, and should have an earnest love for it. when i speak in general of singing, i refer to that species of singing which is a form of beauty, and which is the foundation for the most refined and most perfect interpretation of music; and, above all things, i consider the culture of beautiful tones the basis for the finest possible touch upon the piano. in many respects, the piano and singing should explain and supplement each other. they should mutually assist in expressing the sublime and the noble, in forms of unclouded beauty. my book will make this evident to many; but whether it will succeed with all, i doubt. not a few will even be found who will lay aside my book with contempt, and who will scorn the zeal of the "man of the past age." i am quite prepared for this: it is the fashion at present to undervalue the old times and their defenders; but i shall continue to be conservative, until the "men of the future" shall be able to show me results which shall excel those of the past, or at least shall equal them. and now i commend my little book to the public, trusting that it will instruct the willing, correct the erring, incite the indolent, and chastise those who wilfully persist in the wrong. the author. contents. chap. i. on elementary piano-forte instruction ii. an evening entertainment at herr zach's iii. many students of the piano and few players iv. a conversation with mrs. solid, and four lessons to her daughter v. on the pedal vi. the soft-pedal sentiment vii. a musical tea-party at the house of john spriggins viii. singing and singing-teachers ix. thoughts on singing x. visit at mrs. n.'s xi. secrets xii. thoughts on piano-playing xiii. on musical talent xiv. extravagances in singing and piano-playing xv. conclusion piano and song. chapter i. on elementary piano-forte instruction. you ask, my dear friend, for some particular information about my piano method, especially with regard to my mode of elementary instruction, which differs essentially from that in common use. i give you here the main points; and, if you place confidence in my experience of forty years, and if you will supply those details which i have omitted, your own varied experience as a thoughtful, talented, and earnest piano-teacher will enable you to understand my theory, from the following dialogue between my humble self under the title of dominie, my friend, and the little bessie:-- dominie. my dear friend, how have you managed to make piano-playing so utterly distasteful to little susie? and how is it that the instruction which you have given her for the last three years actually amounts to nothing? friend. well, i will tell you how i have proceeded. first i taught her the names of the keys, that was pretty dull work for her; then i made her learn the treble notes, which was a difficult matter; after that i taught her the bass notes, which puzzled her still more; then i undertook to teach her a pretty little piece, which she hoped to perform for the delight of her parents. of course she constantly confused the bass and treble notes, she could not keep time, she always used the wrong fingers and could not learn it at all. then i scolded her,--she only cried; i tried a little coaxing,--that made her cry worse; finally i put an end to the piano lessons, and she begged me never to begin them again; and there you have the whole story. dominie. you certainly might have begun more judiciously. how is it possible for a child to climb a ladder when not only the lower rounds, but a great many more, are wanting? nature makes no leaps, least of all with children. friend. but did she not begin to climb the ladder at the bottom? dominie. by no means. she certainly never was able to reach the top. i should say, rather, that she tumbled down head foremost. to speak mildly, she began to climb in the middle; and even then you tried to chase her up, instead of allowing her, carefully and quietly, to clamber up one step at a time. bring me your youngest daughter, bessie, and i will show you how i give a first lesson. dominie. bessie, can you say your letters after me? so,--_c_, _d_, _e_, _f_. bessie. _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_. dominie. go on,--_g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. bessie. _g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. dominie. once more: the first four again, then the next four. that's right: now all the eight, one after the other, _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_, _g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. bessie. _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_, _g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. dominie. (_after repeating this several times_). that's good: now you see you have learned something already. that is the musical alphabet, and those are the names of the white keys on the piano-forte. presently you shall find them out, and learn to name them yourself. but, first, you must take notice (i strike the keys in succession with my finger, from the one-lined _c_ to the highest treble) that these sounds grow higher and become sharper one after the other; and in this way (i strike the keys from one-lined _c_ to the lowest bass) you hear that the sounds grow lower and heavier. the upper half, to the right, is called the treble; the lower half is the bass. you quite understand now the difference between the high sharp tones and the low deep ones? now we will go on. what you see here, and will learn to play upon, is called the key-board, consisting of white keys and black ones. you shall presently learn to give the right names both to the white keys and the black; you see there are always two black keys and then three black keys together, all the way up and down the key-board. now put the fore-finger of your right hand on the lower one of any of the two black keys that are together, and let it slip off on to the white key next below it; now you have found the key called _c_; what is the name of the next key above it? say the whole musical alphabet. bessie. _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_, _g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. dominie. well, then, that key is called _d_. bessie. then this one must be _e_. dominie. and now comes _f_. anywhere on the key-board you can find _f_ just as easily, if you put your finger on the lowest of any three black keys that are together, and let it slip off on to the white key next below it. if you remember where these two keys, _f_ and _c_, are, both in the treble and the bass, you can easily find the names of all the other keys. now what is the next key above _f_? bessie. _g_, and then _a_, _b_, _c_. dominie. now we will say over several times the names of the keys, upwards and downwards, and learn to find them skipping about in any irregular order. at the end of the lesson we will try them over once more, and before the next lesson you will know the names of all the white keys. you must practise finding them out by yourself; you can't make a mistake, if you are careful to remember where the _c_ and the _f_ are. i told you that the sounds this way (i strike the keys upward) grow higher, and this way (i strike them downwards) they grow lower. so you see no tones are just alike: one is either higher or lower than the other. do you hear the difference? now turn round so as not to see the keys; i will strike two keys, one after the other; now which is the highest (the sharpest), the first or the second? (i go on in this way, gradually touching keys nearer and nearer together; sometimes, in order to puzzle her and to excite close attention, i strike the lower one gently and the higher one stronger, and keep on sounding them, lower and lower towards the bass, according to the capacity of the pupil.) i suppose you find it a little tiresome to listen so closely; but a delicate, quick ear is necessary for piano-playing, and by and by it will become easier to you. but i won't tire you with it any more now, we will go on to something else. can you count ,-- , , ? bessie. yes, indeed, and more too. dominie. we'll see; now keep counting , , , , , , as evenly and regularly as you can. (i lead her to count steadily, and strike at the same time a chord in three even quarter-notes.) now we'll see if you can count evenly by yourself. (i count of the chord with her, and leave her to count and by herself; or else i count with her at , and let her count and alone; but i am careful to strike the chord promptly and with precision. afterwards i strike the chord in eighth-notes, and let her count , , ; in short, i give the chord in various ways, in order to teach her steadiness in counting, and to confine her attention. in the same way i teach her to count , , , ; or , , , , , ; at the same time telling her that music is sometimes counted in triple time, and sometimes in / or / time.) now, bessie, you have learned to count very well, and to know the difference in the tones. it is not every child that learns this in the first lesson. if you don't get tired of it, you will some time learn to be a good player. as soon as you are rested, i will tell you about something else, that you will have to listen to very carefully. bessie. but i like it, and will take pains to listen just as closely as i can. dominie. when several tones are struck at the same time, if they sound well together, they make what we call a chord. but there are both major and minor chords: the major chord sounds joyous, gay; the minor, sad, dull, as you would say; the former laugh, the latter weep. now take notice whether i am right. (i strike the chord of c major; then, after a short pause, that of c minor; and try, by a stronger or lighter touch, to make her listen first to the major and then to the minor chords. she usually distinguishes correctly; but it will not do to dwell too long upon these at first, or to try to enforce any thing by too much talk and explanation.) now i will tell you that the difference in the sounds of these chords is in the third, counted upwards from the lower note _c_, and depends upon whether you take it half a tone higher or lower, _e_ or _e_ flat. i shall explain this better to you by and by, when you come to learn about the tonic, the third, the fifth or dominant, the octave, and so on. (it is advantageous and psychologically correct to touch occasionally, in passing, upon points which will be more thoroughly taught later. it excites the interest of the pupil. thus the customary technical terms are sometimes made use of beforehand, and a needful, cursory explanation given of them.) that is right; you can tell them pretty well already; now we will repeat once more the names of the keys, and then we will stop for to-day. just see how many things you have learned in this lesson. bessie. it was beautiful! dominie. i hope you will always find it so. bessie. when may i have another lesson? dominie. day after to-morrow; at first, you must have at least three lessons a week. bessie. what shall i do in the next lesson? dominie. i shall repeat all that i have taught you to-day; but i shall teach you a great deal of it in a different way, and every time i shall teach it to you differently, so that it shall always be interesting to you. in the next lesson we will begin to play, first on the table, and at last on the piano. you will learn to move your fingers lightly and loosely, and quite independently of the arm, though at first they will be weak; and you will learn to raise them and let them fall properly. besides that, we will contrive a few exercises to teach you to make the wrist loose, for that must be learned in the beginning in order to acquire a fine touch on the piano; that is, to make the tones sound as beautiful as possible. i shall show you how to sit at the piano and how to hold your hands. you will learn the names of the black keys and the scale of c, with the half-step from the d to the th and also that from the th to the th, which latter is called the leading note, which leads into c. (this is quite important for my method, for in this way the different keys can be clearly explained.) you will learn to find the chord of c in the bass and the treble, and to strike them with both hands together. and then in the third or fourth lesson, after you know quite perfectly all that i have already taught you, i will teach you to play a little piece that will please you, and then you will really be a player, a pianist. friend. from whom have you learned all this? it goes like the lightning-train. dominie. a great many people can learn _what_ is to be taught; but _how_ it is to be taught i have only found out by devoting my whole mind, with real love and constant thought, to the musical improvement and general mental development of my pupils. the advancement will unquestionably be rapid, for it proceeds step by step, and one thing is founded upon another; the pupil learns every thing quietly, thoughtfully, and surely, without going roundabout, without any hindrances and mistakes to be unlearned. i never try to teach too much or too little; and, in teaching each thing, i try to prepare and lay the foundation for other things to be afterwards learned. i consider it very important not to try to cram the child's memory with the teacher's wisdom (as is often done in a crude and harsh way); but i endeavor to excite the pupil's mind, to interest it, and to let it develop itself, and not to degrade it to a mere machine. i do not require the practice of a vague, dreary, time and mind killing piano-jingling, in which way, as i see, your little susie was obliged to learn; but i observe a musical method, and in doing this always keep strictly in view the individuality and gradual development of the pupil. in more advanced instruction, i even take an interest in the general culture and disposition of the pupil, and improve every opportunity to call forth the sense of beauty, and continually to aid in the intellectual development. friend. but where are the notes all this time? dominie. before that, we have a great deal to do that is interesting and agreeable. i keep constantly in view the formation of a good technique; but i do not make piano-playing distasteful to the pupil by urging her to a useless and senseless mechanical "practising." i may perhaps teach the treble notes after the first six months or after sixty or eighty lessons, but i teach them in my own peculiar way, so that the pupil's mind may be kept constantly active. with my own daughters i did not teach the treble notes till the end of the first year's instruction, the bass notes several months later. friend. but what did you do meanwhile? dominie. you really ought to be able to answer that question for yourself after hearing this lesson, and what i have said about it. i have cultivated a musical taste in my pupils, and almost taught them to be skilful, good players, without knowing a note. i have taught a correct, light touch of the keys from the fingers, and of whole chords from the wrist; to this i have added the scales in all the keys; but these should not be taught at first, with both hands together. the pupil may gradually acquire the habit of practising them together later; but it is not desirable to insist on this too early, for in playing the scales with both hands together the weakness of the fourth finger is concealed, and the attention distracted from the feeble tones, and the result is an unequal and poor scale. at the same time, i have in every way cultivated the sense of time, and taught the division of the bars. i have helped the pupils to invent little cadences with the dominant and sub-dominant and even little exercises, to their great delight and advantage; and i have, of course, at the same time insisted on the use of the correct fingering. you see that, in order to become practical, i begin with the theory. so, for instance, i teach the pupil to find the triad and the dominant chord of the seventh, with their transpositions in every key, and to practise them diligently; and to make use of these chords in all sorts of new figures and passages. but all this must be done without haste, and without tiring the pupil too much with one thing, or wearing out the interest, which is all-important. after that, i teach them to play fifty or sixty little pieces, which i have written for this purpose. they are short, rhythmically balanced, agreeable, and striking to the ear, and aim to develop gradually an increased mechanical skill. i require them to be learned by heart, and often to be transposed into other keys; in which way the memory, which is indispensable for piano playing, is unconsciously greatly increased. they must be learned _perfectly_ and played well, often, according to the capacity of the pupil, even finely; in strict time (counting aloud is seldom necessary) and without stumbling or hesitating; first slowly, then fast, faster, slow again, _staccato_, _legato_, _piano_, _forte_, _crescendo_, _diminuendo_, &c. this mode of instruction i find always successful; but i do not put the cart before the horse, and, without previous technical instruction, begin my piano lessons with the extremely difficult acquirement of the treble and bass notes. in a word, i have striven, as a psychologist and thinker, as a man and teacher, for a many-sided culture. i have also paid great attention to the art of singing, as a necessary foundation for piano-playing. i have devoted some talent, and at least an enthusiastic, unwearied love to the subject. i have never stood still; have learned something of teaching every day, and have sought always to improve myself; i have always been something new and different, in every lesson and with every child; i have always kept up a cheerful, joyous courage, and this has usually kindled the same in my pupil, because it came from the heart. moreover, i have never been a man of routine, have never shown myself a pedant, who is obliged to hold fast to certain ideas and views. i have lived up to the century, and have tried to understand and to advance the age; have heard every thing great and fine in music, and have induced my pupils also to hear it. i have opposed with determination all the prejudices and false tendencies of the times, and never have allowed impatient parents to give advice about my lessons. i have insisted upon a good and well-tuned instrument for my pupils, and have endeavored to merit the love and confidence both of my pupils and of their parents. in fact, i have devoted myself thoroughly to my calling, and have been wholly a teacher, always fixing my eye on the true, the beautiful, and the artistic; and in this way have been of service to my pupils. friend. but how do you find parents who sympathize with your ideas and with your lofty views? dominie. i have found that almost all the parents of my pupils have entered into my views, if not immediately, at least after they had been present at a few lessons. in the case of those few who would not enter into them, i have abandoned the lessons; but, nevertheless, i have found that my time has been fully occupied. my friend, do you not think that views like these will assist in the training of young and inexperienced teachers, who are striving for improvement? and do you not think they will be useful even to those who already possess general mental culture, and who are animated by an ardent love for their calling? i especially avoid giving here any exclusive method, a servile following of which would be entirely contrary to my intentions, and, in fact, contrary to my method. but as for the rest! alas, all those who do not understand me, or who choose to misunderstand me, those are the worst!--especially the ill-natured people, the _classical_ people who bray about music, stride straight to the notes, and have no patience till they come to beethoven; who foolishly prate and fume about my unclassical management, but at bottom only wish to conceal their own unskilfulness, their want of culture and of disinterestedness, or to excuse their habitual drudgery. lazy people without talent i cannot undertake to inspirit, to teach, and to cultivate. this chapter will, almost by itself, point out to unprejudiced minds my method of giving more advanced instruction, and will show in what spirit i have educated my own daughters, even to the highest point of musical culture, without using the slightest severity. it will, indeed, cause great vexation to the ill-minded and even to the polite world, who attribute the musical position of my daughters in the artistic world to a tyranny used by me, to immoderate and unheard-of "practising," and to tortures of every kind; and who do not hesitate to invent and industriously to circulate the most absurd reports about it, instead of inquiring into what i have already published about teaching, and comparing it with the management which, with their own children, has led only to senseless thrumming. chapter ii. an evening entertainment at herr zach's. dramatis personÆ. herr zach, _formerly a flute-player, not very wealthy._ his wife, _of the family of tz. (rather sharp-tempered)._ stock, _her son, years old (is studying the piano thoroughly)._ mr. buffalo, _music-master of the family._ dominie, _piano-teacher (rather gruff)._ cecilia, _his daughter, years old (shy)._ zach (_to dominie_). i regret that i was unable to attend the concert yesterday. i was formerly musical myself and played on the flute. your daughter, i believe, plays pretty well. dominie. well, yes! perhaps something more than _pretty well_. we are in earnest about music. madame, of the tz. family (_envious because cecilia received applause for her public performance yesterday, and because mr. buffalo had been unable to bring out stock,--all in one breath_). when did your daughter begin to play? just how old is she now? does she like playing? they say you are very strict, and tie your daughters to the piano-stool. how many hours a day do you make her practise? don't you make her exert herself too much? has she talent? isn't she sickly? dominie. don't you think she looks in good health, madam,--tall and strong for her years? madame, of the tz. family. but perhaps she might look more cheerful, if she was not obliged to play on the piano so much. dominie (_bowing_). i can't exactly say. zach (_suddenly interrupting, and holding dominie by the button-hole_). they say you torment and ill-treat your daughters dreadfully; that the eldest was obliged to practise day and night. well, you shall hear my stock play this evening, who, some time, by the grace of god, is to take the place of thalberg in the world. now give me your opinion freely (of course, i was only to praise): we should like very much to hear what you think about his playing, though perhaps mr. buffalo may not agree with you. (_mr. buffalo is looking through the music-case and picking out all the etudes, by listening to which dominie is to earn his supper._) dominie (_resigned and foreseeing that he shall be bored_). i have heard a great deal of the industry of your son, stock. what are you studying now, mr. stock? stock (_in proud self-consciousness, rather sophomoric_). i play six hours a day, two hours scales with both hands together, and four hours etudes. i have already gone through the first book of clementi and four books of cramer. now i am in the gradus ad parnassum: i have already studied the right fingering for it. dominie. indeed, you are very much in earnest: that speaks well for you, and for mr. buffalo. but what pieces are you studying with the etudes? hummel, mendelssohn, chopin, or schumann? stock (_contemptuously_). mr. buffalo can't bear chopin and schumann. mr. buffalo lately played through schumann's "kinderscenen," that people are making such a talk about. my mamma, who is also musical, and used to sing when papa played the flute, said, "what ridiculous little things are those? are they waltzes for children? and then the babyish names for them! he may play such stuff to his wife, but not to us." dominie. well, these "kinderscenen" _are_ curious little bits for grown-up men's hands. your mother is right, they are too short: there certainly ought to be more of them. but they are not waltzes! stock. indeed, i am not allowed to play waltzes at all. my teacher is very thorough: first, i shall have to dig through all the gradus ad parnassum; and then he is going to undertake a concerto of beethoven's with me, and will write the proper fingering over it. i shall play that in public; and then, as he and my aunt say, "i shall be the death of you all." mr. buffalo (_who has overheard him, steps up_). now, herr dominie, how do you like my method? perhaps you have a different one? nevertheless, that shan't prevent our being good friends. certainly, if any thing is to be accomplished in these times, it is necessary to keep at work,--that is my doctrine. but stock, here, has unusual patience and perseverance. he has worked through all cramer's etudes in succession without grumbling. he was wretched enough over them; but his papa bought him a saddle-horse to ride round on every day, and he revived in the fresh air. (_herr zach with his wife and an old aunt are playing cards in the further room._) dominie. but do you not combine the study of musical pieces with the study of exercises, in order that the cultivation of the taste may go hand in hand with mechanical improvement? mr. buffalo. my dear friend, you are too narrow-minded there,--you make a mistake: taste must come of itself, from much playing and with years. your cecilia played the two new waltzes, and the nocturne of chopin, and beethoven's trio very nicely. but then that was all drilled into her: we could tell that well enough by hearing it,--stock and i. dominie. did it sound unnatural to you,--mannered? and did you think it wooden, dry, dull? mr. buffalo. not exactly that; but the trouble was it sounded _studied_. the public applauded, it is true; but they don't know any thing. stock and i thought-- dominie. do you not think that the taste for a beautiful interpretation may be early awakened, without using severity with the pupil? and that to excite the feeling for music, to a certain degree, even in early years, is in fact essential? the neglect of this very thing is the reason that we are obliged to listen to so many players, who really have mechanically practised themselves to death, and have reduced musical art to mere machinery,--to an idle trick of the fingers. mr. buffalo. that's all nonsense. i say teach them the scales, to run up and down the gamut! gradus ad parnassum's the thing! classical, classical! yesterday you made your daughter play that trill-etude by carl meyer. altogether too fine-sounding! it tickles the ear, to be sure, especially when it is played in such a studied manner. _we_ stick to clementi and cramer, and to hummel's piano-school,--the good old school. you have made a great mistake with your eldest daughter. dominie. the world does not seem to agree with you. madame, of the tz. family (_has listened and lost a trick by it, steps up quickly, and says maliciously_). you must agree that she would have played better, if you had left her for ten years with cramer and clementi. we don't like this tendency to schumann and chopin. but what folly to talk! one must be careful what one says to the father of such a child! it is quite a different thing with us. mr. buffalo is bound to our stock by no bond of affection. he follows out his aim without any hesitation or vanity, and looks neither to the right nor to the left, but straightforward. dominie. i beg your pardon, madam: you may be right,--from your point of view. we must be a little indulgent with sensitive people. but will not your son play to us? (_stock plays two etudes of clementi, three of cramer, and four from the gradus, but did not even grow warm over them. the horse his father gave him has made him quite strong._) * * * * * i may be asked, "but how did stock play?" how? i do not wish to write a treatise: my plan is only to give hints and suggestions. i am not writing in the interest of stock, buffalo, & co. after the playing, we went to supper: the oysters were good, but the wine left a little sharp taste. my timid daughter did not like oysters; but she ate a little salad, and at table listened instead of talking. a few innocent anecdotes were related at table about horses and balls and dogs and stock's future. on taking leave, madame said condescendingly to cecilia, "if you keep on, my dear, one of these days you will play very nicely." chapter iii. many students of the piano and few players. _(a letter addressed to the father of a piano pupil)._ it is a pity that you have no sons, for a father takes great delight in his sons; but i agree with you, when you say that, if you had one, you would rather he should break stones than pound the piano. you say you have many friends who rejoice in that paternal felicity, and whose sons, great and small, bright and dull, have been learning the piano for three years or more, and still can do nothing. you are doubtless right; and, further, they never will learn any thing. you ask, of what use is it to man or boy to be able to stammer through this or that waltz, or polonaise or mazurka, with stiff arms, weak fingers, a stupid face, and lounging figure? what gain is it to art? you say, is not time worth gold, and yet we are offered lead? and the poor teachers torment themselves and the boys, abuse art and the piano; and at the end of the evening, in despair, torment their own wives, after they have all day long been scolding, cuffing, and lamenting, without success or consolation. you speak the truth. i have had the same experience myself, though not to the same degree, and though i did not bring home to my wife a dreary face, but only a good appetite. but i did not give myself up to lamentation over piano-teaching. i gathered up courage and rose above mere drudgery. i reflected and considered and studied, and tried whether i could not manage better, as i found i could not succeed with the boys; and i have managed better and succeeded better, because i have hit upon a different way, and one more in accordance with nature than that used in the piano schools. i laid down, as the first and most important principle, the necessity for "the formation of a fine touch," just as singing-teachers rely upon the culture of a fine tone, in order to teach singing well. i endeavored, without notes, to make the necessary exercises so interesting that the attention of the pupils always increased; and that they even, after a short time, took great pleasure in a sound, tender, full, singing tone; an acquirement which, unfortunately, even many _virtuosos_ do not possess. in this way, we made an opening at the beginning, not in the middle: we harnessed the horse _before_ the wagon. the pupil now obtained a firm footing, and had something to enjoy, without being tormented at every lesson with dry matters to be learned, the advantage of which was not obvious to him, and the final aim of which he did not perceive. until a correct touch has been acquired, it is of no use to talk about a fine singing tone. how can we expect to arouse an interest by mere toneless tinkling, while stiff, inflexible fingers are struggling with the notes; while the pupil sees only his inability to do any thing right, and receives nothing but blame from the teacher; while, at the same time, so much is to be kept in mind, and he must be required to observe the time, and to use the right fingers? poor, stupid children! later, after teaching the notes, i did not fall into the universal error of selecting pieces which were either too difficult, or such as, though purely musical, were not well adapted to the piano; but i chose short, easy pieces, without prominent difficulties, in the correct and skilful performance of which the pupil might take pleasure. consequently, they were studied carefully, slowly, willingly, and with interest, which last is a great thing gained; for the pupil rejoiced in the anticipation of success. the struggle over single difficult places destroys all pleasure, palsies talent, creates disgust, and, what is worse, it tends to render uncertain the confirmation of the faculty already partially acquired,--of _bringing out a fine legato tone, with loose and quiet fingers and a yielding, movable wrist, without the assistance of the arm_. you suppose that talent is especially wanting, and not merely good teachers; for otherwise, with the zealous pursuit of piano-playing in saxony, we should produce hundreds who could, at least, play correctly and with facility, if not finely. here you are mistaken: we have, on the contrary, a great deal of musical talent. there are, also, even in the provincial cities, teachers who are not only musical, but who also possess so much zeal and talent for teaching that many of their pupils are able to play tolerably well. i will add further, that the taste for music is much more cultivated and improved, even in small places, by singing-societies and by public and private concerts, than was formerly the case. we also have much better aids in instruction books, études, and suitable piano pieces; but still we find everywhere "jingling" and "piano-banging," as you express it, and yet no piano-playing. let us consider this aspect of the subject a little more closely. in the first place, the proper basis for a firm structure is wanting. the knowledge of the notes cannot afford a proper basis, except in so far as it is of service in the execution of a piece. of what use are the notes to a singer, if he has no attack, and does not understand the management of the voice? of what use to the piano-learner, if he has no touch, no tone on the piano-forte. is this to be acquired by playing the notes? but how then is it to be learned? one thing more. owing to an over-zeal for education, children are kept in school from seven to ten hours in a day, and then they are required to work and commit to memory in their free hours, when they ought to be enjoying the fresh air. but when are they then to have their piano lessons? after they have escaped from the school-room, and consequently when the children are exhausted and their nerves unstrung. what cruelty! instead of bread and butter and fresh air, piano lessons! the piano ought to be studied with unimpaired vigor, and with great attention and interest, otherwise no success is to be expected. besides this, much writing, in itself, makes stiff, inflexible fingers. but when is the child to find time for the necessary practice of the piano lessons? well, in the evening, after ten o'clock for refreshment, while papa and mamma are in bed! and now, after the school-days are happily over, and the children have possibly retained their red cheeks, then their occupations in life lay claim to their time; or, if they are girls, they are expected to busy themselves with embroidery, knitting, sewing, crochet, making clothes, house-work, tea parties, and alas! with balls; and now, too, comes the time for lovers. do you imagine that the fingers of pupils sixteen years old can learn mechanical movements as easily as those of children nine years old? in order to satisfy the present demands in any degree, the technique should be settled at sixteen. under all these circumstances, we find the best teachers become discouraged, and fall into a dull routine, which truly can lead to no success. in conclusion, i beg you to invite the piano teacher, mr. strict, to whom you have confided the instruction of your only daughter, rosalie, to pay me a visit, and i will give him particular directions for a gradual development in piano-playing, up to beethoven's op. or chopin's f minor concerto. but i shall find him too fixed in his own theories, too much of a composer, too conceited and dogmatic, and not sufficiently practical, to be a good teacher, or to exert much influence; and, indeed, he has himself a stiff, restless, clumsy touch, that expends half its efforts in the air. he talks bravely of études, scales, &c.; but the question with regard to these is _how they are taught_. the so-called practising of exercises, without having previously formed a sure touch, and carefully and skilfully fostering it is not much more useful than playing pieces. but i hear him reply, with proud and learned self-consciousness: "music, music! classical, classical! spirit! expression! bach, beethoven, mendelssohn!" that is just the difficulty. look at his pupils, at his pianists! see how his children are musically stifled, and hear his daughter sing the classical arias composed by himself! however, it is all musical! farewell. chapter iv. a conversation with mrs. solid, and four lessons to her daughter. mrs. solid. i should be glad to understand how it is that your daughters are able to play the numerous pieces which i have heard from them so correctly and intelligently, without bungling or hesitation, and with so much expression, and the most delicate shading; in fact, in such a masterly manner. from my youth upwards, i have had tolerable instruction. i have played scales and études for a long time; and have taken great pleasure in studying and industriously practising numerous compositions of kalkbrenner and hummel, under their own direction. i have even been celebrated for my talent; but, nevertheless, i never have had the pleasure of being able to execute any considerable piece of music to my own satisfaction or that of others; and i fear it will be the same with my daughter emily. dominie. in order to give a satisfactory answer to your question, i will lay before you a few of my principles and opinions in respect to musical culture, with special reference to piano-playing. educated ladies of the present time make greater pretensions and greater demands than formerly in regard to music and musical execution; and consequently their own performances do not usually correspond with their more or less cultivated taste for the beautiful, which has been awakened by their careful general education. thus they are aware that they are not able to give satisfaction, either to themselves or to others; and from this arises a want of that confidence in their own powers, which should amount almost to a consciousness of infallibility, in order to produce a satisfactory musical performance. this confidence has its foundation in a full, firm, clear, and musical touch, the acquisition of which has been, and is still, too much neglected by masters and teachers. a correct mechanical facility and its advanced cultivation rest upon this basis alone; which, moreover, requires special attention upon our softly leathered pianos, which are much more difficult to play upon than the old-fashioned instruments. it is a mistake to suppose that a correct touch, which alone can produce a good execution, will come of itself, through the practice of études and scales. even with masters, it is unusual to meet with a sound, fine, unexceptionable touch, like that of field and moscheles, and among the more recent that of thalberg, chopin, mendelssohn, and henselt. i will speak now of the selection of pieces. our ladies are not contented to play simple music, which presents few difficulties and requires no involved fingering; and from which they might gradually advance by correct and persevering study to more difficult pieces. they at once seize upon grand compositions by beethoven, c.m. von weber, mendelssohn, chopin, and others, and select also, for the sake of variety, the bravoura pieces of liszt, thalberg, henselt, &c. how can they expect to obtain a command of such pieces, when their early education was insufficient for our exalted demands in mechanical skill, and their subsequent instruction has also been faulty and without method? if you were to request me to supply in some degree your own deficiencies, before i proceed to the further education of your daughter, i should not begin with the wisdom of our friend mr. buffalo: "madam, you must every day practise the major and minor scales, in all the keys, with both hands at once, and also in thirds and in sixths; and you must work three or four hours daily at études of clementi, cramer, and moscheles; otherwise, your playing will never amount to any thing." such advice has frequently been given by teachers like mr. buffalo, and is still daily insisted on; but we will, for the present, set such nonsense aside. i shall, in the first place, endeavor to improve your touch, which is too thin, feeble, and incorrect; which makes too much unnecessary movement, and tries to produce the tone in the air, instead of drawing it out with the keys. this will not require a long time, for i have well-formed, young hands to work upon, with skilful fingers in good condition. i will employ, for this purpose, several of the short exercises mentioned in my first chapter, and shall require them to be transposed into various keys, and played without notes, in order that you may give your whole attention to your hands and fingers. above all things, i wish you to observe how i try to bring out from the piano the most beautiful possible tone, with a quiet movement of the fingers and a correct position of the hand; without an uneasy jerking of the arm, and with ease, lightness, and sureness. i shall certainly insist upon scales also, for it is necessary to pay great care and attention to passing the thumb under promptly and quietly, and to the correct, easy position of the arm. but i shall be content with the practice of scales for a quarter of an hour each day, which i require to be played, according to my discretion, _staccato_, _legato_, fast, slow, _forte_, _piano_, with one hand or with both hands, according to circumstances. this short time daily for scale-practice is sufficient, provided, always, that i have no stiff fingers, or unpractised or ruined structure of the hand to educate. for very young beginners with weak fingers, the scales should be practised only _piano_, until the fingers acquire strength. i should continue in this way with you for two weeks, but every day with some slight change. after a short time, i would combine with this practice the study of two or three pieces, suitably arranged for the piano; for example, mozart's minuet in e flat, arranged by schulhoff, and his drinking-song, or similar pieces. we will, at present, have nothing to do with beethoven. you are, perhaps, afraid that all this might be tedious; but i have never been considered tedious in my lessons. i wish you, for the present, not to practise any pieces or exercises except in my presence, until a better touch has been thoroughly established. you must also give up entirely, for a time, playing your previous pieces; for they would give you opportunity to fall again into your faulty mode of playing. i shall also soon put in practice one of my maxims in teaching; viz., that, merely for the acquisition of mechanical facility, all my pupils shall be in the habit of playing daily some appropriate piece, that by its perfect mastery they may gain a fearless confidence. they must regard this piece as a companion, friend, and support. i wish you to learn to consider it a necessity every day, before practising or studying your new piece of music, to play this piece, even if it is done quite mechanically, two or three times, first slowly, then faster; for without ready, flexible fingers, my teaching and preaching will be valueless. mrs. solid. but what pieces, for instance? dominie. for beginners, perhaps one or two of hünten's etudes melodiques; a little later, one of czerny's very judicious etudes from his opus ; and for more advanced pupils, after they are able to stretch easily and correctly, his toccata, opus ,--a piece which my three daughters never give up playing, even if they do not play it every day. they practise pieces of this description as a remedy for mechanical deficiencies, changing them every three or four months. in the selection of these, i aim especially at the practice of thirds, trills, stretches, scales, and passages for strengthening the fourth finger; and i choose them with reference to the particular pieces, sonatas, variations, concertos, &c., which they are at the time studying. likewise, in the choice of the latter, i pursue a different course from that which the teachers alluded to above and others are accustomed to follow; though i hope my management is never pedantic, but cautious, artistic, and psychologic. it is easy to see that many teachers, by giving lessons continually, particularly to pupils without talent, are led, even with the best intentions, to fall into a mere routine. we find them often impatient and unsympathetic, especially in the teaching of their own compositions; and again, by their one-sided opinions and capricious requirements, by devoting attention to matters of small importance, and by all sorts of whimsicalities, they contract the intellectual horizon of their pupils, and destroy their interest in the lessons. mrs. solid. your careful mode of proceeding is certainly extremely interesting and convincing; but allow me to request an answer to various objections and considerations which are now and then brought forward, particularly by teachers. dominie. to that i am quite accustomed. the good and the beautiful never obtain uncontested recognition. no one has ever offered any new improvement, and fearlessly spoken the truth, without being attacked, defamed, and despised, or entirely misunderstood. our age can show many proofs of this; for example, let us remember homoeopathy and magnetism. clara wieck was not appreciated in leipzig until she had been admired in paris; nor marie wieck, because she does not play exactly as her sister clara does. the same is the case with my present book, which relentlessly treads upon the incredible follies and lamentable errors of the times. i am quite prepared for opposition of any kind. mrs. solid. i should like to suggest to you that there are other teachers who have given themselves a great deal of trouble, and who are very particular; but it is not their good fortune to have daughters like yours to educate. dominie. have given themselves a great deal of trouble? what do you mean by that? if they do not take pains in the right way, or at the right time and place, it is all labor in vain. of what use is mere unskilful, stupid industry? for instance, when a teacher, in order to correct a stiff use of the fingers and wrist, and the general faulty touch of his pupil, gives some wonderful étude or a piece with great stretches and arpeggios for the left hand, and gives himself unwearied trouble over it, it is a proof of abundant painstaking; but it is labor thrown away, and only makes the imperfect mode of performance the worse. and now with regard to my daughters. it has been their fortune to have had me for a father and teacher: they certainly have talent, and i have been successful in rousing and guiding it. envy, jealousy, pride, and offended egotism have tried as long as possible to dispute this; but at last the effort is abandoned. they say that it requires no art to educate such talent as theirs, that it almost "comes of itself." this assertion is just as false and contrary to experience as it is common, even with educated and thoughtful people, who belong to no clique. lichtenburg says: "it is just those things upon which everybody is agreed that should be subjected to investigation." well, i have made a thorough investigation of these accusations, with regard to my three daughters, and all the talented pupils whom i have been able to educate for good amateurs, and, according to circumstances, for good public performers. the great number of these suffices for my justification. i must add, still further, that it is exactly the "great talents" for singing, or for the piano, who require the most careful, thoughtful, and prudent guidance. look around at the multitude of abortive talents and geniuses! talented pupils are just the ones who have an irresistible desire to be left to their own discretion; they esteem destruction by themselves more highly than salvation by others. mrs. solid. but it is said that you have been able to educate only your three daughters, and none others for public performers. dominie. madam, you cannot be serious. if i were to declaim leporello's list, you might justly consider it an exaggeration; but if, instead of replying to you, i should urge you to read what i have written on the subject, or if i should present your daughter emily to you, after three or four years, as a superior performer, you might pardon my vanity and my ability. i do not possess any magic wand, which envy and folly could not impute to me as an offence. nevertheless, unless circumstances were very adverse, i have, at all events, been able in a short time to accomplish for my pupils the acquisition of a good, or at least an improved, musical touch; and have thus laid a foundation, which other teachers have failed to do by their method, or rather want of method. but you have something else on your mind? mrs. solid. you anticipate me. i was educated in berlin, and in that capital of intelligence a taste prevails for opposition, negation, and thorough criticism. how can you educate artists and _virtuosos_, when you yourself are so little a _virtuoso_? you are not even a composer or learned contrapuntist. a teacher of music wins much greater consideration, if he himself plays concertos and composes pretty things, and if he can calculate and give vent to his genius in double and triple fugues, and in inverse and retrograde canons. you cannot even accompany your pupils with the violin or flute, which is certainly very useful and improving. dominie. the egotist is seldom capable of giving efficient instruction: that lies in the nature of the case. even a child will soon perceive whether the teacher has a sole eye to its interest, or has other and personal aims in view. the former bears good fruits, the latter very doubtful ones. i will say nothing about the stand-point of those egotistical teachers whose first aim is to bring themselves into prominence, and who at the same time are perhaps travelling public performers and composers. they are, it may be, chiefly occupied with double and triple fugues (the more inverted the more learned), and they consider this knowledge the only correct musical foundation. at the same time, they often possess a touch like that of your brother, mr. strict, mentioned in my third chapter, and are utterly devoid of true taste and feeling. while pursuing their fruitless piano lessons, which are quite foreign to their customary train of thought, they regard their occupation only as a milch cow; and they obtain the money of sanguine parents, and sacrifice the time of their pupils. you may try such agreeable personages for yourself: i could wish you no greater punishment. and now i will speak of the violin and the flute. i have never availed myself of those expedients; it is a method which i have never learned. i will describe for your amusement a few interesting incidents, which i had an opportunity to witness in a not inconsiderable city, while on a journey with my daughters. the teacher with the flute was a gentle, quiet, mild musician; he was on very good terms with his pupil, and indulged in no disputes; every thing went on peaceably, without passion, and "in time." they both twittered tenderly and amicably, and were playing, in celebration of the birthday of an old aunt who was rather hard of hearing, a sonata by kuhlau, which was quite within the power of both. the old aunt, who, of course, could hear but little of the soft, flute tones, and the light, thin, modest, square piano, kept asking me: "is not that exquisite? what do you think of it?" i nodded my head and praised it, for the music was modest and made no pretension. i will pass next to the violin. the possessor of this was a type of presumption, vulgarity, and coarseness, and understood how to make an impression on his pupils and their parents by the assumption of extraordinary ability. he consequently enjoyed a certain consideration. he was, moreover, a good musician, and played the violin tolerably in accompanying the piano, in beethoven's opus and . in this portrait you have a specimen of the violinist as a piano teacher. of course he understood nothing of piano-playing, and took no interest in wieck's rubbish about beauty of tone; he cared only for beethoven. he now and then tried to sprawl out a few examples of fingering, in a spider-like fashion; but they were seldom successful. his pupils also possessed the peculiar advantage of playing "in time," when they did not stick fast in the difficult places. at such times he always became very cross and severe, and talked about "precision;" in that way instilling respect. his pupils did not jingle, but they had a peculiarly short, pounding touch; and floundered about among the keys with a sort of boldness, and with resolute, jerking elbows. they certainly had no tone, but the violin was therefore heard the better; and after each performance we might have heard, "am i not the first teacher in europe?" mrs. solid. you certainly have shown up two ridiculous figures. dominie. true; but i leave it to every one to make themselves ridiculous. mrs. solid. i am very glad that you have furnished me here with the criticisms of which i stand in need; for i might otherwise have been in danger of supplying you with an example at the next soirée, perhaps at the banker's, mr. gold's. but, as i should like to hear your answer, i will listen to, and report to you, what is said in a certain though not very numerous clique, who are opposed to you and your labors. dominie. those people would act more wisely, if they were to study my writings; in which i will make any corrections, if there is any thing that i can add to them, for the advantage of truth, right, and beauty. and now allow me, miss emily, since you are pretty well advanced, and are not quite spoiled, to show you in a few lessons how to study these variations by herz (les trois graces, no. , on a theme from "the pirates"). they are not easy; but i will teach them in a way that shall not weary you or give you a distaste for them. i have intentionally chosen these variations, because they do not lay claim to great musical interest; and, consequently, their mode of performance, their execution, gives them their chief value. moreover, they possess the disadvantage for teaching that they are of unequal difficulty, and require, therefore, the more skill on the part of the teacher to compensate for this. _first lesson._ miss emily, these are very clear, graceful variations, which require an extremely nice, delicate execution; and, especially, a complete mechanical mastery of their various difficulties. although these variations may seem to you too easy, i am governed in the selection of them by the maxim that "what one would learn to play finely must be below the mechanical powers of the pupil." the theme of the italian song, which is the basis of these variations, is very well chosen, and you must take great pains to execute it as finely as possible, and to produce a singing effect upon the piano-forte. after the piece is thoroughly learned, you will be greatly aided in the production of this imitation of singing by the careful and correct use of the pedal which raises the dampers. the theme does not offer great mechanical difficulties; but it requires a loose, broad, full, and yet tender touch, a good _portamento_, and a clear and delicately shaded delivery; for you must remember that "in the performance of a simple theme the well-taught pupil may be recognized." emily. but you do not begin at the beginning: there is an introduction to the piece. dominie. perhaps we shall take that at the last: i can't tell yet when. a great many things in my instruction will seem to you misplaced: it may be that the final result will restore to me the approval which i desire. emily. do you always give such a preliminary description before you begin a piece with a pupil? dominie. i like to do so; for i wish to create an interest in the piece, and to state in connection my principles and views about music and piano-playing. now we will try the theme, first quite slowly; and then the first easy variation, with the last bars at the end of it, which introduce the theme once more, and which should be played very clearly and smoothly. we will then take from the introduction only the right hand, and study the most appropriate fingering for it. i never write this out fully; but only intimate it here and there, in order not to interfere with the spontaneous activity of the learner. we will also take a few portions for the left hand from the finale. in these you must carefully observe the directions which are given for its performance, and try to execute every thing correctly and clearly; for a careless bass is prejudicial to the very best playing in the treble. my lesson is now at an end; for we have taken up a good deal of time at the beginning with the scales, and passing the thumb under correctly, with the different species of touch, and the appropriate exercises for these. i do not wish you yet to practise the first variation with both hands together, for you do not yet strike the skipping bass evenly enough and with sufficient precision; and you might accustom yourself to inaccuracies, especially as your left hand has, as usual, been neglected, and is inferior to the right in lightness and rapidity. we shall find this a hindrance; for the object is not to practise much, but to practise correctly. therefore play these passages first slowly, then quicker, at last very fast; then slow again, sometimes _staccato_, sometimes _legato_, _piano_, and also moderately loud; but never when the hands and fingers are fatigued, therefore not too continuously; but many times in the course of the day, and always with fresh energy. at present, you need not play _fortissimo_, or with the pedal: for in that way you might be led into a tramping style, with a weak, stiff touch, and a habit of striking at the keys with straight fingers; and that i do not like. we will look for the true and the beautiful in a very different treatment of the piano; and, first of all, in a clear, unaffected, healthy performance, free from any forced character. _second lesson._ transposition of the triads and dominant chord in their three positions, and in various kinds of measure; and practice of these, with careful attention to a correct touch and loose wrist; cadences on the dominant and sub-dominant; practice of the skipping bass in the theme, and in the first and third variations, with practice in striking and leaving the chords, observing carefully the precise value of the notes. you must attend also to striking them not too forcibly or too feebly, and take special care with regard to the fourth and fifth fingers, which do not easily give the tone with so full a sound as the other three fingers. now we will try the theme with both hands together, and consider the correct expression, and likewise the _piano_ and _forte_, as well as the nicest _crescendo_ and _diminuendo_. we will then take the first easy variation, of which you have already acquired a mastery: we will play it exactly _a tempo_ and with the bass chords, which should usually be given _staccato_, and which must be played with delicacy and flexibility; but it will be well for you to practise first the bass part once alone, in order that you may hear whether all the tones sound evenly. now the first variation will go pretty well with both hands together; with increasing mastery of it, the requisite shading in the right hand can be produced. as your right hand is not yet tired, play to me now several times, first slowly and then faster, the passages which i gave you from the introduction. when the right hand becomes a little fatigued, take a portion from the finale for the left hand. you may also try over the adagio; but i recommend for your special practice the part for the right hand in the third variation. you cannot make a mistake about it, if you do not try to play it too fast, and if you carefully observe the fingering indicated. now i will play the theme to you, as nearly as possible as i heard the famous tenor rubini sing it. you see i place the fingers gently upon the keys and avoid raising them too high, in order not to injure the nice connection of the tones, and to produce a singing tone as far as possible. at the end of the lesson you will play the theme to me once more.... i perceive you play it with too much embarrassment, and not freely enough. it will go still better two days hence, if you play it frequently during that time, slowly, and become quite accustomed to it. in addition, you will practise industriously every thing which we have gone through, especially the first variation; but you must always do it with interest, and never with weariness. of course you will practise _without notes_ all the little exercises for the touch, and for the fourth and fifth fingers, and the cadences. _third lesson._ other little exercises; trills, scales with shading for one hand alone and for both together; the skipping basses, &c. we will begin to-day with the bass part of the second variation. you observe that often there are even eighth notes in the treble, while in the bass there are even triplet eighth notes. in order to play these properly together, even with only mechanical correctness, it is necessary that the left hand shall acquire a perfectly free and independent movement, and shall bring out the bass with perfect ease. you must pay special attention to any weak notes, and accustom yourself not to give the last triplet, in each bar, and the last note of this triplet, too hurriedly, too sharply, or with too little tone. notice how much difficulty this equal playing of the triplets occasions to the right hand, which moves in even eighth notes. while you play the left hand, i will play the right: you must listen as little as possible to my playing, and preserve your own independence. you must learn to play this variation entirely by yourself with both hands together; but we must not be too much in a hurry about it, and must give time to it. all restless urging, all hurry, leads to inaccuracies in playing. you have learned enough for to-day; but you may play the other variations, with the whole finale, straight through, that you may not get into the habit of stopping at the difficult passages which you have already learned. _fourth lesson._ new exercises for striking stretches, and for the extension of the hand and fingers; but this must be done prudently, that the sound touch, which is always of the first importance, shall not be endangered. besides this, the repetition of the exercises learned in the preceding lessons; but all to be played with a certain shading and delicacy. we will to-day begin at the beginning, with the introduction. i will now make amends for my want of regularity, and show you that i can begin at the beginning, like other people; but all in good time. to-day, in those portions of which you have acquired a mastery, we will give particular attention to the expression, and to the correct use of the pedal. if what i suggest to you with regard to the shading at any place does not entirely correspond to your understanding of the piece, or to your feeling, you must at once express your difference of opinion, and ask me for the reason of my view. you, perhaps, do not like to play this place _crescendo_, but _diminuendo_. very well; only play it finely in your own way; it will also sound very well so. i proposed the _crescendo_ there, because the feeling grows more intense; perhaps, in the next lesson, you will acknowledge that i was right. this place i should play a very little slower, though without a striking _ritardando_; then a little faster here; do you think it ought to be played _crescendo_ or _diminuendo_? we must try in this variation to present nicely shaded little pictures. here you might use more energy and decision. this place you should play merely with a correct mechanical execution, but without special expression; for we require shadow, in order that the succeeding idea, eminently suggestive of the theme, shall be brought out with more brilliancy. in general, the whole must be made to sound natural, without musical pretension, and as if it were the production of the moment; and should not create a distorted, overdrawn effect, or exhibit modern affectation. each piece that i undertake to teach you will give me an opportunity to talk to you a great deal about the correct expression in playing, and about its innumerable beauties, shades, and delicacies; while i shall pay constant attention to the production of a beautiful singing tone. the next piece will be chopin's notturno in e flat; for your touch has already gained in fulness, and is now unobjectionable. this is the tyranny with regard to correct execution, which stupidity and folly have taxed me with having exercised towards my daughters. "expression must come of itself!" how cheap is this lazy subterfuge of the followers of routine, and of teachers wanting in talent! we see and hear a great many _virtuosos_, old and young, with and without talent, renowned and obscure. they either play in an entirely mechanical manner and with faulty and miserable touch, or else, which is less bearable, they strut with unendurable affectation and produce musical monstrosities. in order to conceal their indistinct mode of execution, they throw themselves upon the two pedals, and are guilty of inconceivable perversions. but let us proceed with your instruction. you already play your piece intelligently, with interest and enthusiasm, and without any of the modern, empty affectations. if any other passage should occur to you at the _fermata_ in the second part, which shall lead appropriately to the dominant, try it; and combine it, perhaps, with that which is written. you may make two passing shakes upon the four final sixteenth notes; but you must play them very distinctly and clearly, and the last one weaker than the first, in order to give it a delicate effect, as is done by singers. with light variations of this kind, it is allowable to introduce various ornaments, provided they are in good taste and nicely executed. the case is quite different in the performance of the compositions of beethoven, mozart, weber, and others, where reverence for the composer requires a stricter interpretation, although even this is sometimes carried to a point of exaggeration and pedantry. now try the first variation once more. that is better: you already play the skipping bass with more precision, more briskly and evenly. we begin to perceive the correct speaking tone in the bass, and a certain delicacy and freedom in the treble. you need not play both hands together in the second variation, which is the most difficult, until the next lesson. to-day you may first play the bass alone, while i play the treble; and afterwards we will change parts, and you can play the treble while i play the bass. but we will not go farther than the fourth variation. i have not much more to say about this piece. we will begin next a beautiful etude by moscheles, which i recommend highly to you, in order to strengthen and give facility to the fourth and fifth fingers: this may be your companion and friend during the next two or three months. mrs. solid. your very careful mode of instruction assures me that emily will acquire a mastery of these variations, and will learn to perform them finely. dominie. she will be able, after a week or two, to execute this piece with understanding and confidence, and to play it to her own satisfaction and that of others; while her awakened consciousness of its beauties and of her ability to interpret it will preserve her interest for it. the objection is quite untenable "that children lose their pleasure in a piece, if they are obliged to practise it until they know it." do people suppose that it gives more pleasure, when the teacher begins in a stupid, helpless way, and tries to make the pupil swallow several pieces at once, while he continually finds fault and worries them, than when the pupil is enabled to play a few short, well-sounding exercises, with perfect freedom and correctness, and to take delight in his success? or when afterwards, or perhaps at the same time, he is conscious that he can play one piece nicely and without bungling, while it is all accomplished in a quiet and pleasant manner? mrs. solid. do you pursue the same course with longer and more difficult pieces? dominie. certainly, on the same principle. mrs. solid. but, if you are so particular about every piece, and always take so much pains to improve the touch, it will be a long time before emily will be able to execute several long pieces and can learn other new ones beside. dominie. do you wish your daughter to learn to jingle on the piano, in order to become musical? or shall she grow more musical by learning to play finely? i am sure the latter is your wish, as it is mine: otherwise, you would be contented with an ordinary teacher. you must consider that, when she has made a beginning, by learning to play one piece thoroughly and quite correctly, the following pieces will be learned more and more quickly; for she will have acquired a dexterity in playing, as you may observe with yourself and with every one. to be able to drum off fifty pieces in an imperfect manner does not justify the expectation that the fifty-first piece will be learned more easily or better; but to attain a perfect mastery of four or five pieces gives a standard for the rest. in this way, and by mechanical studies, such as i have begun with emily, the greatest ease in reading at sight is gradually developed, in which all my pupils excel, when they have remained long enough under my instruction, and in which my daughters are pre-eminent. but for this it is necessary to continue to study single pieces, industriously and artistically, and with great exactness; for otherwise the practice of reading at sight, which often amounts to a passion, leads very soon to slovenliness in piano-playing and to more or less vulgar machine-music. mrs. solid. i am more and more convinced that a style of instruction which is illogical, intermittent, superficial, and without method, can lead to no good result, or at least to nothing satisfactory, even with extraordinary talents; and that the unsound and eccentric manifestations and caricatures of art, which cause the present false and deplorable condition of piano-playing, are the consequence of such a prevalent mode of instruction. chapter v. on the pedal. i have just returned exhausted and annihilated from a concert, where i have been hearing the piano pounded. two grand bravoura movements have been thundered off, with the pedal continually raised; and then were suddenly succeeded by a soft murmuring passage, during which the thirteen convulsed and quivering bass notes of the _fortissimo_ were all the time resounding. it was only by the aid of the concert programme that my tortured ears could arrive at the conclusion that this confusion of tones was meant to represent two pieces by döhler and thalberg. cruel fate that invented the pedal! i mean the pedal which raises the dampers on the piano. a grand acquisition, indeed, for modern times! good heavens! our piano performers must have lost their sense of hearing! what is all this growling and buzzing? alas, it is only the groaning of the wretched piano-forte, upon which one of the modern _virtuosos_, with a heavy beard and long hanging locks, whose hearing has deserted him, is blustering away on a bravoura piece, with the pedal incessantly raised,--with inward satisfaction and vain self-assertion! truly time brings into use a great deal that is far from beautiful: does, then, this raging piano revolutionist think it beautiful to bring the pedal into use at every bar? unhappy delusion. but enough of this serious jesting. hummel never used the pedal. he was an extremist; and, in his graceful, clear, elegant, neat, though not grand playing, often lost fine effects, which would have been produced by the correct and judicious use of the pedal; particularly on the instruments of stein, brodmann, conrad graff, and others then in use, which were usually lightly leathered, and had a thin, sharp tone. the use of the pedal, of course always allowing it to fall frequently with precision, was especially desirable in the upper treble, in cases where the changes of the harmony were not very frequent; for the tone of those instruments, although sweet and agreeable, had not much depth, and the action had but little strength and elasticity. but on our instruments, frequently too softly leathered, which have a full tone, and are so strong and penetrating, especially in the bass, it is enough to endanger one's sense of hearing to be subjected to such a senseless, incessant, ridiculous, deafening use of the pedal; frequently, moreover, combined with a hard, stiff touch, and an unsound, incorrect technique. a musical interpretation in any degree tolerable is out of the question. you cannot call that art, it cannot even be called manual labor: it is a freak of insanity! a few words to the better sort of players. the foot-piece to the right on the piano-forte raises the dampers, and in that way makes the tones resound and sing, and takes from them the dryness, shortness, and want of fulness, which is always the objection to the piano-forte, especially to those of the earlier construction. this is certainly an advantage; the more the tone of the piano-forte resembles singing, the more beautiful it is. but, in order not to injure the distinctness and detract from the clear phrasing of the performance, a very skilful and prudent use of the pedal is necessary in rapid changes of harmony, particularly in the middle and lower portion of the instrument. you all use the pedal too much and too often, especially on large, fine concert pianos of the new construction, which, with their heavy stringing, have in themselves a fuller, more vibrating tone; at least you do not let it fall frequently enough, and with precision. you must listen to what you are playing. you do not play for yourselves alone; frequently you play to hearers who are listening for the first time to the pieces you are performing. try a few passages without pedal,--for instance, those in which the changes of the harmony succeed each other rapidly, even in the highest treble,--and see what repose, what serene enjoyment, what refreshment is afforded, what delicate shading is brought out. or at first listen, and try to feel it in the playing of others; for your habit is so deeply rooted that you no longer know when and how often you use the pedal. chopin, that highly gifted, elegant, sensitive composer and performer, may serve as a model for you here. his widely dispersed, artistic harmonies, with the boldest and most striking suspensions, for which the fundamental bass is essential, certainly require the frequent use of the pedal for fine harmonic effect. but, if you examine and observe the minute, critical directions in his compositions, you can obtain from him complete instruction for the nice and correct use of the pedal. by way of episode to my sorrowful lecture on the pedal, we will take a walk through the streets some beautiful evening. what is it that we hear in almost every house? unquestionably it is piano-playing; but what playing! it is generally nothing but a continual confusion of different chords, without close, without pause; slovenly passages, screened by the raised pedal; varied by an empty, stiff, weak touch, relying upon the pedal for weight. we will escape into the next street. oh, horrors! what a thundering on this piano, which, by the way, is sadly out of tune! it is a grand--that is, a long, heavy--étude, with the most involved passages, and a peculiar style of composition, probably with the title "on the ocean," or "in hades," or "fancies of the insane;" pounded off with the pedal raised through the most marvellous changes of harmonies. finally, the strings snap, the pedal creaks and moans; conclusion,--_c_, _c_ sharp, _d_, _d_ sharp resound together through a few exhausted bars, and at last die away in the warm, soft, delicious air. universal applause from the open windows! but who is the frantic musician who is venting his rage or this piano? it is a parisian or other travelling composer, lately arrived with letters of recommendation, who has just been giving a little rehearsal of what we may expect to hear shortly in a concert at the "hôtel de schmerz." chapter vi. the soft-pedal sentiment. you exclaim: "what is that?--a sentiment for the soft pedal! a sentiment of any kind in our times! most of all, a musical sentiment! i have not heard of such a thing in a concert-room for a long time!" when the foot-piece to the left on the piano is pressed down, the key-board is thereby moved to the right; so that, in playing, the hammers strike only two of the three strings, in some pianos only one. in that way the tone is made weaker, thinner, but more singing and more tender. what follows from this? many performers, seized with a piano madness, play a grand bravoura piece, excite themselves fearfully, clatter up and down through seven octaves of runs, with the pedal constantly raised,--bang away, put the best piano out of tune in the first twenty bars,--snap the strings, knock the hammers off their bearings, perspire, stroke the hair out of their eyes, ogle the audience, and make love to themselves. suddenly they are seized with a sentiment! they come to a _piano_ or _pianissimo_, and, no longer content with one pedal, they take the soft pedal while the loud pedal is still resounding. oh, what languishing! what soft murmuring, and what a sweet tinkling of bells! what tenderness of feeling! what a soft-pedal sentiment! the ladies fall into tears, enraptured by the pale, long-haired young artist. i describe here the period of piano mania, which has just passed its crisis; a period which it is necessary to have lived through, in order to believe in the possibility of such follies. when, in the beginning of this century, the piano attained such conspicuous excellence and increased power, greater technical skill could not fail to be called out; but, after a few years, this degenerated into a heartless and worthless dexterity of the fingers, which was carried to the point of absurdity and resulted in intellectual death. instead of aiming to acquire, before all things, a beautiful, full tone on these rich-sounding instruments, which admit of so much and such delicate shading, essential to true excellence of performance, the object was only to increase mechanical facility, and to cultivate almost exclusively an immoderately powerful and unnatural touch, and to improve the fingering in order to make possible the execution of passages, roulades, finger-gymnastics, and stretches, which no one before had imagined or considered necessary. from this period dates the introduction of _virtuoso_ performances with their glittering tawdriness, without substance and without music, and of the frightful eccentricities in art, accompanied by immeasurable vanity and self-conceit,--the age of "finger-heroes." it is indeed a melancholy reflection, for all who retain their senses, that this charlatanry is made the solitary aim of numberless ignoble performers, sustained by the applause of teachers and composers equally base. it is sad to see how, engaged in artificial formalisms and in erroneous mechanical studies, players have forgotten the study of tone and of correct delivery, and that few teachers seek to improve either themselves or their pupils therein. otherwise they would see and understand that, on a good piano, such as are now to be found almost everywhere, it is possible with correct playing, founded on a right method, to play, without external aids, _forte_, _fortissimo_, _piano_, _pianissimo_,--in a word, with every degree of shading, and with at least formal expression; and that this style of playing, with the requisite mechanical skill, sounds far more pure, and is more satisfactory than when a feeling is affected through the crude, unskilful, and absurd use of the pedal, especially of the soft pedal of which we are now speaking. this affectation only gives one more proof of our unhealthy, stupid, and unmusical infancy in piano performances. a good-natured public, drummed up and brought together by patient persuasion and by urgent recommendations, of which _virtuosos_ can obtain an abundance (for the tormented cities which they have visited cannot otherwise get rid of them), attend these concerts and listen to dozens of such inexperienced piano-players. one plays exactly like another, with more or less faulty mechanical execution; and none of them are able, with all their thumping and caressing of the keys, to bring out from the instrument a broad, healthy, full, and beautiful tone, delicately shaded and distinct even to the softest _pp._ but, instead of this, they fall into a pedal sentiment; _i.e._, they play with outside pretension, and with intrinsic emptiness. you unworthy performers, who have so disgusted the artistic public with piano-playing that they will no longer listen to fine, intelligent, sensible artists, whose dignity does not permit them to force themselves into the concert-hall, or to drag people into it from the streets! you base mortals, who have exposed this beautiful art to shame! i implore you to abandon the concert platform, your battle-field! hack at the piano no longer! find positions on a railroad or in a factory. there you may perhaps make yourselves useful; while by the lessons you give (for it usually comes to that, after you have travelled all over the world) you will only ruin our young people, now growing up with promising talent for piano-playing, and will produce successors like yourselves, but not artists. i must whisper one thing more in your ear. i will say nothing about simple truthfulness, about tenderness and sincerity of feeling, or wholesome refinement, about poetry, inspiration, or truly impassioned playing. but, if your ears are not already too much blunted, you should be able to discover, at least in a very few minutes, on any instrument, unless it is of the worst sort, or has already been battered to pieces by you, how far you can carry the _pianissimo_ and _fortissimo_, and still preserve the tone within the limits of beauty and simplicity. you will thus be able to interpret a piece with at least superficial correctness, without mortally wounding a cultivated ear by exaggerations and by maltreatment of the instrument and its two pedals. this style of playing has nevertheless found its numerous defenders and admirers in our century, which has made every thing possible. this senseless enslavement and abuse of the piano has been said to be "all the rage;" a fine expression of our piano critics to justify insane stamping and soft-pedal sentimentality. how far what i have here said relates to our modern errors in singing, and how far it may be applied to them, i leave to the intelligence of my readers and to my explanations in subsequent chapters. to return to my theme: i have still one word on this subject for rational players. even they use the soft pedal too much and too often, and at unsuitable places; for instance, in the midst of a piece, without any preparatory pause; in melodies which require to be lightly executed; or in rapid passages which are to be played _piano_. this is especially to be noticed with players who are obliged to use instruments of a powerful tone and stiff, heavy action, on which it is difficult to insure a delicate shading in _piano_ and _forte_. for this reason, a sensible and experienced teacher, whose sole aim is the true and the beautiful, should make the attainment of an elastic touch and well-grounded style of playing an indispensable requirement. i prefer that the soft pedal should be used but seldom, and, if the pedal which raises the dampers is used at the same time, it must be only with the greatest nicety. the soft pedal may be used in an echo; but should be preceded by a slight pause, and then should be employed throughout the period, because the ear must accustom itself gradually to this tender, maidenly, sentimental tone. there must again be a slight pause before the transition to the usual more masculine tone, with the three strings. the soft pedal is, moreover, most effective in slow movements with full chords, which allow time to bring out the singing tone, in which consists the advantage of the stroke of the hammers on two strings alone. chapter vii. a musical tea-party at the house of john spriggins. i once more introduce my readers to the scenes of my active, musical life, with an invitation to accompany me to a musical tea-party. my object is, in a short and entertaining manner, to remove very common prejudices; to correct mistaken ideas; to reprove the followers of mere routine; to oppose to malicious cavilling the sound opinions of an experienced teacher; to scourge dogmatic narrow-mindedness; and in this way to advance my method of instruction. * * * * * dramatis personÆ. john spriggins _(jovial and narrow-minded, a member of an ancient musical family)._ mrs. spriggins _(irritable, envious, and malicious)._ lizzie, _their daughter, , years old (lively and pert)._ shepard, _her piano-teacher (very laborious)._ dominie, _a piano-master (very stern)._ emma, _his daughter, a pianist (silent and musical)._ mrs. spriggins (_to dominie_). so this is your daughter who is to give a concert to-morrow? she is said to have less talent than your eldest daughter. with her, they say, nothing requires any labor. dominie. you must ask my eldest daughter herself about that. i have hitherto held the opinion that both of them played correctly, musically, and perhaps finely, and yet both differently: that is the triumph of a musical education. but this cheap comparative criticism is already too thoroughly worn out. pray what else have you on your mind? mrs. s. have you not yet sent your younger daughter to school? they say your eldest could neither read nor write at fourteen years of age. dominie. my daughters always have a private teacher in the house, in connection with whom i instruct them in music, in order that their literary education shall occupy fewer hours, and that they shall have time left for exercise in the open air to invigorate the body; while other children are exhausted with nine hours a day at schools and institutes, and are obliged to pay for this with the loss of their health and the joyousness of youth. mrs. s. it is very well known that your daughters are obliged to play the whole day long. dominie. and not all night too? you probably might explain their skill in that way. i am astonished that you have not heard that too, since you have picked up so many shocking stories about me and my daughters. mrs. s. (_dismisses the subject, and asks suddenly_). now just how old is your daughter emma? dominie. she is just sixteen years and seven weeks old. mrs. s. does she speak french? dominie. oui, elle parle français, and in musical tones, too,--a language which is understood all over the world. mrs. s. but she is so silent! does she like to play? dominie. you have given her no opportunity to speak, she is certainly not forth-putting. for the last two years she has taken great pleasure in playing. mrs. s. you acknowledge, then, that formerly you had to force her to it? dominie. in the earlier years of her natural development, as she was a stranger to vanity and other unworthy motives, she certainly played, or rather pursued her serious studies, chiefly from obedience and habit. does your daughter of thirteen years old always practise her exercises without being required to do so? does she like to go to school every day? does she always sew and knit without being reminded of it? mrs. s. (_interrupting_). oh, i see you are quite in love with your daughters! but they say you are terribly strict and cruel in the musical education of your children; and, in fact, always. dominie. do you suppose i do this from affection? or do you infer it, because they have proved artists, or because they look so blooming and healthy, or because they write such fine letters, or because they have not grown crooked over embroidery, or because they are so innocent, unaffected, and modest? or-- mrs. s. (_irritably_). we will drop that subject. but i must give you one piece of good advice. do not make your daughter emma exert herself too much, as you have done with your eldest daughter. dominie. if that is so, mrs. spriggins, it seems to have agreed with her very well. mrs. s. (_vehemently_). but she would have been better-- dominie. if she had not played at all? that i can't tell exactly, as i said yesterday. well, you are satisfied now with emma's state of health? mrs. s. it is of no use to advise such people as you. dominie. i have always devoted myself to my business as a teacher, and have daily taken counsel with myself about the education of my daughters, and of other pupils whom i have formed for artists; and, it must be acknowledged, i have done so with some ability. mrs. s. (_not attending to him, but turning to emma_). but does it not make your fingers ache to play such difficult music? dominie. only when her teacher raps her on the knuckles, and that i never do. (_emma looks at the parrot which is hanging in the parlor, and strokes the great bull-dog._) john spriggins (_entering with his daughter lizzie_). herr dominie, will you be so good as to hear our daughter lizzie play, and advise us whether to continue in the same course. music is, in fact, hereditary in our family. my wife played a little, too, in her youth, and i once played on the violin; but my teacher told me i had no talent for it, no ear, and no idea of time, and that i scraped too much. dominie. very curious! he must have been mistaken! john s. but i always was devotedly fond of music. my father and my grandfather, on our estate, often used to play the organ for the organist in church, and the tenants always knew when they were playing. my father used often to tell that story at table. ha, ha! it was very droll! dominie. curious! john s. well, to return to my violin. i gave it up after a year, because it seemed rather scratchy to me, too. dominie. curious! probably your ear and your taste had become more cultivated. john s. afterwards, when i accepted an office, my wife said to me, "my dear, what a pity it is about your violin." so i had it restrung, and took a teacher. it seems as if it were only yesterday. dominie (_casting down his eyes,--the servant brings ice_). that was very curious! john s. but the government horn-player thought he could not get on in duets with me. dominie. curious! so you were obliged to play only solos? but to return to your daughter. will you be good enough to play me something, miss lizzie? mrs. s. (_condescendingly, in a low voice_). she is a little timid and embarrassed at playing before your daughter emma. emma. you really need not be so. mrs. s. bring "les graces" by herz, and rosellen's "tremolo." lizzie. but, mamma, i have forgotten that piece by herz, and i have not learned the "tremolo" very well yet. that is always the way with me. mr. shepard says i may console myself: it was always the same with his other scholars. he says i shall finally make my way. but mr. shepard is so strict. are you very strict, herr dominie? mrs. s. why, my child, you have heard me say so before. herr dominie is the very strictest--but (_playfully_) he will not acknowledge it. dominie. there is one thing you must allow, mrs. spriggins,--that my pupils always take pleasure in my lessons; and that must be the case because their progress is evident and gives them delight, and every thing is developed in the most natural way. mrs. s. (_less sharply_). we won't discuss that; but how are your daughters able to play so many pieces to people, and moreover without notes, if they have not been obliged to practise all day long, and if you have not been very cruel with them, while my lizzie cannot play a single thing without bungling? dominie. allow me, madam, it must be the fault of mr. shep-- mrs. s. no, no! you must excuse me, but we don't permit any reflections on our mr. shepard: he is very particular and unwearied. dominie. it does not depend entirely upon that, but-- john s. upon my honor, it is marvellous to see how talented pupils always seem to flock to _you_. it is easy to teach such! ha, ha! you must not forget, however, that my grandfather played on the organ. now, lizzie, sit down and play something. (_she chooses a cavatina from "the pirates," with variations. the introduction begins with _e_ flat in unison. lizzie strikes _e_ in unison and the same in the bass, and exclaims: "there, mamma, didn't i tell you so? i don't remember it now." mr. shepard enters, steps up hastily, and puts her finger on _e_ flat._) shepard. pardon me, herr dominie, i will only set her going: it makes her a little confused to play before such connoisseurs; she loses her eyesight. don't you see, lizzie, there are three flats in the signature? john s. courage now! aha! lizzie can't get at the pedal, the bull-dog is lying over it. john, take him out. (_after the removal of the bull-dog, lizzie plays as far as the fourth bar, when she strikes _c_ sharp instead of _c_, and stops._) mrs. s. never mind, begin again. herr dominie is pleased to hear that: he has gone through it all with his own children. (_lizzie begins again at the beginning, and goes on to the eighth bar, where she sticks fast._) shepard. don't make me ashamed of you, lizzie. now begin once more: a week ago it went quite tolerably. (_lizzie begins once more, and plays or rather scrambles through it, as far as the eighteenth bar; but now it is all over with her, and she gets up._) dominie. skip the introduction, it is too difficult: begin at once on the theme. john s. (_to his wife_). we will go away and leave the gentlemen alone. by and by, gentlemen, we will talk about it further over a cup of tea. (_lizzie refuses to play._) dominie. mr. shepard, let lizzie play a few scales or some chords; a few finger exercises, or some easy dance without notes. shepard. she has nothing of that kind ready. you see i always take up one piece after another, and have each one played as well as i can; she repeats the difficult parts, i write the proper fingering over them, and am very particular that she does not use the wrong fingers. i have taken a great deal of pains, and quite worn myself out over the lessons. lizzie does the same, and practises her pieces two hours a day; but--but-- (_lizzie goes away with emma._) dominie. mr. shepard, with the best intentions in the world, you will never accomplish your end. even if miss lizzie is only to play as an amateur, and is not intended for any thing higher, for which in fact she has not sufficient talent, you must pay some attention beforehand to the acquirement of a correct tone, and get rid of this robin-red-breast touch; and you must then endeavor, by scales and exercises of every kind, to give to her hands and fingers so much firmness, decision, and dexterity, that she can master her pieces, at least with a certain distinct tone and a tolerable touch. you are not less in error in the choice of her pieces, which are far too difficult,--a fault of most teachers, even with the most skilful pupils. the pieces which your pupils are to execute should be below their mechanical powers; for, otherwise, the struggle with difficulties robs the player of all confidence in the performance, and gives rise to stumbling, bungling, and hurry. the mechanical powers should be cultivated by studies and exercises, in preference to pieces, at least to those of certain famous composers, who do not write in a manner adapted to the piano; or who, at any rate, regard the music as of more importance than the player. this may apply even to beethoven, in the higher grade of composition; for his music is full of danger for the performer. the only course which can ever lead to a sure result, without wearying both pupil and parent, and without making piano-playing distasteful, is first to lay a foundation in mechanical power, and then to go on with the easier pieces by hünten and burgmüller. if you try to produce the mechanical dexterity essential for piano performance by the study of pieces, except with the most careful selection, you will waste a great deal of time and deprive the pupil of all pleasure and interest; and the young lizzie will be much more interested in the hope of a husband than in the satisfaction of performing a piece which will give pleasure to herself and her friends. there can be no success without gradual development and culture, without a plan, without consideration and reflection,--in fact, without a proper method. how can there be any good result, if the pupil has to try at the same time to play with a correct touch, with the proper fingering, in time, with proper phrasing, to move the fingers rightly, to gain familiarity with the notes, and to avoid the confusion between the treble and the bass notes,--and in fact has to struggle with every thing at once? and what vexations! what loss of time without success! (_shepard listened with attention, and a light seemed to dawn upon him._) (_dominie and shepard go in to tea._) mrs. s. well, gentlemen, have you come to any conclusion? is not lizzie a good pupil? she is obliged to practise two hours every day, however tired she may be. do you think we should continue in the same course, herr dominie? shepard. herr dominie has called my attention to some points which will be of use to me. dominie. only a few trifles. john s. after tea will not miss emma play to us? emma. the piano is very much out of tune, some of the keys stick, the action is too light, and the instrument generally is not calculated for the successful execution of any thing. john s. i beg your pardon: it was considered by everybody a very fine instrument when we bought it, sixteen years ago. we had a great bargain in it at the time, for we purchased it of a neighbor who had improved it very much by use. mr. shepard will confirm what i say, miss. (_emma bows her head thoughtfully, and looks at shepard suspiciously._) john s. my violin has very much improved during the last twenty years. on my honor, if lizzie were a boy, she should learn to play on the violin, to keep it in the family. ha, ha, ha! dominie. that would be curious! (_dominie wishes to take leave with his daughter._) mrs. s. (_condescendingly_). i hope you will come to see us again soon. the next time lizzie will play you rosellen's "tremolo;" and miss emma must play us a piece too. dominie. you are extremely kind! (_takes leave._) chapter viii. singing and singing-teachers. _(a letter to a young lady singer.)_ my dear miss ----,--you are endowed with an admirable gift for singing, and your agreeable though not naturally powerful voice has vivacity and youthful charm, as well as a fine tone: you also possess much talent in execution; yet you nevertheless share the lot of almost all your sisters in art, who, whether in vienna, paris, or italy, find only teachers who are rapidly helping to annihilate the opera throughout europe, and are ruling out of court the simple, noble, refined, and true art of singing. this modern, unnatural style of art, which merely aspires to superficial effects, and consists only in mannerisms, and which must ruin the voice in a short time, before it reaches its highest perfection, has already laid claim to you. it is scarcely possible to rescue your talent, unless, convinced that you have been falsely guided, you stop entirely for a time, and allow your voice to rest during several months, and then, by correct artistic studies, and with a voice never forced or strong, often indeed weak, you improve your method of attack by the use of much less and never audible breathing, and acquire a correct, quiet guidance of the tones. you must also make use of the voice in the middle register, and strengthen the good head-tones by skilfully lowering them; you must equalize the registers of the voice by a correct and varied use of the head-tones, and by diligent practice of _solfeggio_. you must restore the unnaturally extended registers to their proper limits; and you have still other points to reform. are you not aware that this frequent tremulousness of the voice, this immoderate forcing of its compass, by which the chest-register is made to interfere with the head-tones, this coquetting with the deep chest-tones, this affected, offensive, and almost inaudible nasal _pianissimo_, the aimless jerking out of single tones, and, in general, this whole false mode of vocal execution, must continually shock the natural sentiment of a cultivated, unprejudiced hearer, as well as of the composer and singing-teacher? what must be the effect on a voice in the middle register, when its extreme limits are forced in such a reckless manner, and when you expend as much breath for a few lines of a song as a correctly educated singer would require for a whole aria? how long will it be before your voice, already weakened, and almost always forced beyond the limits of beauty, shall degenerate into a hollow, dull, guttural tone, and even into that explosive or tremulous sound, which proclaims irremediable injury? is your beautiful voice and your talent to disappear like a meteor, as others have done? or do you hope that the soft air of italy will in time restore a voice once ruined? i fall into a rage when i think of the many beautiful voices which have been spoiled, and have dwindled away without leaving a trace during the last forty years; and i vent my overflowing heart in a brief notice of the many singing-teachers, whose rise and influence i have watched for twenty years past. the so-called singing-teachers whom we usually find, even in large cities and in musical institutions, i exempt from any special criticism, for they would not be able to understand my views. they permit soprano voices to sing scales in all the five vowels at once; begin with _c_ instead of _f_; allow a long holding of the notes, "in order to bring out the voice," until the poor victim rolls her eyes and grows dizzy. they talk only of the fine chest-tones which must be elicited, will have nothing to do with the head-tones, will not even listen to them, recognize them, or learn to distinguish them. their highest principle is: "fudge! we don't want any rubbish of teschner, miksch, and wieck. sing in your own plain way: what is the use of this murmuring without taking breath? for what do you have lungs if you are not to use them? come, try this aria: 'grâce,' 'grâce!' produce an effect! down on your knees!" there are again others who allow screaming,--"the more the better,"--in order to produce power and expression in the voice, and to make it serviceable for public performances. they may, indeed, require the singing of _solfeggio_, and prattle about the requisite equality of the tones; and they consequently make the pupil practise diligently and strongly on the two-lined _a_, _b_ flat, _b_, where kind nature does not at first place the voice, because she has reserved for herself the slow and careful development of it. as for the unfortunate gasping medium voices, which are still less docile, and which sigh in the throat, and after all can only speak, such teachers postpone the cultivation of these to the future, or else they exclaim in a satisfied way, "now we will sing at sight! hit the notes! let us have classical music!" of these, also, i forbear to speak. and as for the singing-teachers, whose business it is to educate the voice for "the opera of the future," i am really unable to write about them. in the first place, i know nothing about "the future," the unborn; and, in the second place, i have more than enough to do with the present. and now i come to those who honestly wish to teach better, and who in a measure do so. but even they are too pedantic: with prejudiced views, they pursue one-sided aims. without looking around to the right or to the left or forwards, and without daily learning, reflecting, and striving, they run in a groove, always ride their particular hobby, cut every thing after one pattern, and use up the time in secondary matters, in incredible trifles. for the formation of a fine tone, not a minute should be lost, particularly with lady singers, who are not strong, and usually cannot or ought not to sing more than twenty days in a month, and who surely ought to be allowed to use their time in a reasonable manner. moreover, these are the teachers whom it is most difficult to comprehend. though they use only seven tones, they are plunged in impenetrable mysteries, in incomprehensible knowledge and a multitude of so-called secrets, out of which, indeed, nothing can ever be brought to light. for this, however, they do not consider themselves to blame, not even their hobby-horses; but, as they say, "the higher powers." we will, for once, suppose that three-fourths of the measures which they are accustomed to employ in their treatment of the voice and of the individual are good and correct (the same is true of many piano-teachers); but the remaining fourth is sufficient to ruin the voice, or to prevent its proper development, and therefore nothing correct is to be gained. there are other teachers who never can get beyond the formation of the tone, and are lost in the pursuit of _perfection_,--that "terrestrial valley of tears." truly a beautiful country, but which is only to be found in paradise! others, instead of thinking, "i will try for the present to do better than others have done," so harass and torment the poor mortal voices with their aim at perfect equality and perfect beauty of tone, the result often is that every thing becomes unequal and far from beautiful. some teachers make their pupils so anxious and troubled that, owing to their close attention to the tone, and the breath, and the pronunciation, they sing their songs in an utterly wooden manner, and so in fact they, too, are lost in optimism and in tears; whereas, for singing, a happy confidence in the ability to succeed is essential. others pursue an opposite course, and are guilty of worse faults, as you will see if you look around. some of them have no standard of perfection, but use up the time in an exchange of ideas with their pupils, with mysterious and conceited "ifs" and "buts." they are very positive, but only within the narrow circle of their own ideas. they make no advance in a correct medium path. some allow pupils to practise only _staccato_, and others only _legato_, aiming thereby at nobody knows what. some allow them to sing too loud, others too feebly; some philosophize earnestly about beauty in the voice, and others grumble about unpleasantness in the same; some are enthusiastic about extraordinary talents, others fret about the want of talent; some have a passion for making all the sopranos sing alto, others do just the reverse; some prefer a shadowy, others a clear voice. they all rest their opinions upon the authority of some famous screaming-master who has written a singing-system. upon like authority, some cultivate chiefly the deep tones, because it is very fine, and "creates an effect," for soprano voices to be able suddenly to sing like men, or rather to growl, and because it is the fashion in paris. others, on the contrary, pride themselves upon the head-tones; but they are none of them willing to pay much attention to the medium voices: that is too critical and too delicate a matter, and requires too much trouble, for the modern art of singing. as a last resort, they bethink themselves of kind nature, and lay the blame upon her. well, i will say no more upon this point, but will proceed. have i not already, in my piano instructions, insisted on the importance of a gradual and careful use of every proper expedient to extend, strengthen, beautify, and preserve the voice? i am thought, however, to infringe upon the office of the singing-masters, who hold their position to be much more exalted than that of the poor piano-teacher. still, i must be allowed to repeat that voices are much more easily injured than fingers; and that broken, rigid voices are much worse than stiff, unmanageable fingers, unless, after all, they amount to the same thing. i demand of singing-teachers that they show themselves worthy of their position, and allow no more voices to go to destruction, and that they give us some satisfactory results. i believe in fact, in my homely simplicity, that the whole thing may be accomplished without any mystery, without trading in secrets or charlatanry; without the aid of modern anatomical improvement, or rather destruction, of the worn-out throat, through shortening or increasing the flexibility of the palate, through the removal of the unnecessary glands or by attempts to lengthen the vocal passage, or by remedying a great many other things in which nature has made a mistake, and on which special doctors for the voice, in paris and london, are now employed. we supply the want of all these by the following little rule:-- three trifles are essential for a good piano or singing-teacher,-- _the finest taste, the deepest feeling, the most delicate ear,_ and, in addition, the requisite knowledge, energy, and some practice. _voilà tout!_ i cannot devote myself to the treatment of the throat, for which i have neither time not fitness; and my lady singers are so busy with the formation of true tone, and in attention to the care and preservation of their voices, that they only wish to open their mouths for that object, and not for anatomical purposes. in piano-playing also, i require no cutting of the interdigital fold, no mechanical hand-support, no accelerator for the fingers or stretching machine; and not even the "finger-rack" invented and used, without my knowledge, by a famous pupil[a] of mine, for the proper raising of the third and fourth fingers. my dear young lady, if the creator has made the throat badly for singing, he alone is responsible. i cannot come to his assistance by destroying the throat with lunar caustic, and then reconstructing it. if the throat is really worn out, may it not perhaps be owing to the teacher, and to his mistaken management? nature does many things well, and before the introduction of this modern fashion of singing produced many beautiful voices: has she all at once become incapable of doing any thing right? we will, then, simply return to the _three trifles_ above-mentioned; and in these we will live and work "with all our heart, with all our soul, and with all our mind." [a] reference is here made to robert schumann, who, in order to facilitate the use of the weaker fingers, employed a machine for raising the fingers artificially, which resulted in loss of power over them, and necessitated the abandonment of piano-playing.--_tr._ chapter ix. thoughts on singing. our vocal composers, followed by many singing-teachers and singing institutions, have almost banished from music the true art of singing; or, at least, have introduced an unnatural, faulty, and always disagreeable mode of delivery, by which the voice has been destroyed, even before it has attained its full development. the consideration of this fact induces me to communicate some portions from my journal, and to unite with them a few opinions of the noted singing-master, teschner, of berlin. * * * * * must we again and again explain to german composers that, though we do not require them to compose in italian, they ought, at least, to learn to write in german in a manner suited for singing? otherwise, in their amazing ignorance and infatuation, they will wear out the powers of opera singers, and torture the public, apparently without a suspicion that it is possible to write both grand and light operas with true, characteristic german thoroughness. even german opera requires a constant attention to the right use of the voice, and a methodical, effective mode of singing. it tolerates no murderous attacks on single male and female voices, or on the full opera company; it is opposed to that eager searching after superficial effect, which every sincere friend of the opera must lament. is it, then, so difficult to obtain the requisite knowledge of the human voice, and to study the scores of gluck, haydn, mozart, rossini, bellini, and donizetti with a special regard to this? do our vocal composers make too great a sacrifice to their creative genius in making a study of those things which are essential? you consider it mortifying to inquire of those who understand singing, and you are sensitive about any disturbance of your vain over-estimate of your own powers; but you are not ashamed to cause the destruction of man's noblest gift,--the human voice! if taste, feeling, and a fine ear are, and always must be, the chief requirements in composing for the great public, i ask you how you can lay claim to these three trifles, when you constantly violate them? composer. if mrs. n. had executed my aria to-day in as earnest and masterly a style, and with as agreeable a voice, as she did that of rossini yesterday, she would have given as much satisfaction; for it is much more interesting and expressive both musically and harmonically, and written with more dramatic effect. singer. you make a mistake, and you always will do so, as long as you consider the study of the voice as of secondary importance, or, in fact, pay no attention whatever to it. the latter aria, which is composed with a regard to the voice, and to the employment of its most agreeable tones, puts me into a comfortable mood, and gives me a feeling of success; yours, on the contrary, into one of dissatisfaction and anticipation of failure. of what importance is the musical value of a composition, if it can only be sung with doubtful success, and if the voice is obliged to struggle with it, instead of having it under control? you attach less importance to the free, agreeable exercise of the voice than does the unanimous public. i do not wish to excite compassion, but to give pleasure by a beautifully developed style of singing. you pay some attention to adaptability to the piano or the violin: why are you usually regardless of fitness for the voice? critics have often asked, why does jenny lind sing so coolly? why does she not sing grand, passionate parts? why does she not select for her performances some of the later german or even italian operas? why does she always sing amina, lucia, norma, susanna, &c.? in reply to these and similar questions, i will ask, why does she wish always to remain jenny lind? why does she endeavor to preserve her voice as long as possible? why does she select operas in which she may use her pure, artistic, refined mode of singing, which permits no mannerism, no hypocritical sentiment, and which possesses an ideal beauty? why does she choose operas in which she can give the most perfect possible image of her own personality? why operas in which she may allow the marvellous union of her powers of song to shine conspicuously, without doing violence to her voice and forcing its tones, or casting doubt upon her lofty, noble, and beautiful art? why does she first regard the singing, and only afterwards the music, or both united? this is the answer to the same questions which are likewise asked about henrietta sontag and all great singers. even the passionate schröder-devrient seldom made an exception to this rule, although she was not independent of the theatres. these questions should be an urgent warning to our young female singers not to sacrifice themselves to any of the modern screaming operas, unsuited for singing; but to preserve and watch over their voices, and to guard them from immoderate, continued, and often inartistic exertion; in fact, to sing always in the voice-register with which nature has endowed them, and never to shriek; to renounce the present, fashionable, so-called "singing effects," and the modern scene-screaming, as jenny lind and henrietta sontag have always done. then their voices would remain useful for the opera, as was formerly the case, from ten to twenty years; and they would not have to mourn, as is too common, after a very short time, a feeble, broken voice and departed health. let jenny lind and henrietta sontag be placed as the finest models before our young, gifted, ambitious singers. they are to be regarded as miraculous phenomena; especially in our times, when the modern style of singing has, for reasons difficult to justify, so widely deviated from the old school which was so fruitful in brilliant results,--that of pistocchi, porpora, and bernacchi. what could show more clearly the destructiveness of our present opera style than the sublime beauty of their singing, combined with their noble, refined, sound voices, such as may perhaps still be found among you? * * * * * the managers of our theatres are in want of tenor singers who can act. they should consider that tenors who have any voices left have never learned to act, and tenors who are able to act no longer have any voices; because, as a rule, they either have studied too little, or have studied erroneously. unless the voice has received a correct and fine culture, the german comic operas lead immediately to destruction of the voice, especially of the sensitive, easily injured german tenor voice. here i take occasion to remark upon the universal prejudice, that "a tenor ought to develop the chest-tones as far as possible, that they are the finest." in tenors, with very few exceptions, this mistaken treatment has been speedily followed by the loss both of voice and health. nicely shaded singing, from _piano_ onwards, is thereby rendered impossible; and tones which are always forced must remain unpleasant, even although powers thus laboriously gained may sometimes have a fine effect in the opera. a tenor who wishes to preserve his voice and not to scream in the upper tones, who desires always to have a _piano_ at command and to possess the necessary shading and lightness as well as elegance and flexibility, should cultivate the _falsetto_, and endeavor to bring it down as far as possible into the chest-register. this is as indispensable as is the use of the head-tones for the soprano. when the _falsetto_ has too striking a resemblance to the chest-voice, and is even inferior to it in power, it is the result of want of perseverance and prudence in its cultivation. it ought to be almost imperceptibly connected with the chest-register by the introduction of the mixed tones. * * * * * we shall probably soon be called upon to read an "address of young female singers to the composers of germany," as follows: "freedom of thought! freedom in composition! freedom in the opera! but no annihilation of the throat! you are hereby notified that we protest against all operas which are repugnant to the true art of singing; for it is not in your power to compensate us for the loss of our voices, although it may be possible for you, after using up our talent as quickly as possible, to look around for others, with whom you can do the same. first learn to understand singing, or, rather, first learn to sing, as your predecessors have done, and as italian composers still do, and then we will talk with you again." * * * * * "what a pedantic outcry about german want of adaptability for singing! pray where is there the most singing?" it is, i agree, in germany. "is not singing taught in the public schools? and consider, too, the innumerable singing clubs, singing societies, and singing institutions!" that is just the misfortune which requires a thorough investigation. how many promising voices do these institutions annually follow to the grave? who is it who sing in the schools? boys and girls from thirteen to fifteen years old. but boys ought not to be allowed to sing while the voice is changing; and girls, also from physical reasons, ought not to sing at all at that age. and what kind of instructors teach singing here? our epistolary and over-wise age overwhelms our superintendents and corporations with innumerable petitions and proposals; but no true friend of humanity, of music, and of singing, has yet been found to enlighten these authorities, and to prove to them that the most beautiful voices and finest talents are killed in the germ by these unsuitable so-called singing-lessons, especially in the public schools. girls' voices may be carefully awakened, and skilfully practised, and made flexible and musical; but they should be used only in _mezzo-voce_, and only until the period of their development, or up to the thirteenth year, or a few months sooner or later. this ought also to be done with great experience, delicacy, practical knowledge and circumspection. but where are we to find suitable singing-professors, and who is to pay them a sufficient salary? therefore, away with this erroneous instruction of children in singing! away with this abortion of philanthropy and the musical folly of this extravagant age! can such a premature, unrefined, faulty screaming of children, or croaking in their throats, without artistic cultivation and guidance, compensate for the later inevitable hoarseness and loss of voice, and for the destruction of the organs of singing? the tenors who belong to these singing societies and institutions force out and sacrifice their uncultured voices, and scream with throat, palate, and nasal tones, in the execution of four-part songs by this or that famous composer, which are far from beautiful, and which serve only to ruin the voice. who was the lady who sang the solo in yonder singing academy? that girl, a year ago, had a fresh, beautiful, sonorous voice; but, although she is only twenty years old, it already begins to fail her, and she screws and forces it, by the help of the chest-tones, up to the two-lined _a_, without any thing having ever been done for the adjustment of the voice-registers and for the use of the head-tones, and without proper direction from a competent superintendent. instead of this, he was continually exclaiming: "loud! forcibly! _con espressione!_" while even the street boys in italy sing clearly, and often with great ability, their national songs, so well suited to the voice, and in their most beautiful language, our northern voices, which are obliged to contend with the great difficulties of the german language, are sacrificed in the most cold-blooded and self-satisfied manner in the schools and singing societies, while all artistic preparation, by which alone the voice may be preserved and cultivated, is neglected. who are at the head of these institutions and societies? musicians it is true; but they are strangers to any special education in singing, or are not skilful singing-teachers, who understand how to combine methodical cultivation of the voice with practical execution. their entire instruction consists, at most, in hitting the notes and keeping time. these musicians say: "whoever joins my society must know how to sing!" what does that mean? where are they to learn it? and, even when you have succeeded in obtaining for your academy a few imprudent but well-taught singers, does not the preservation of their voices then require the greatest care and watchfulness? is that in your power? have you the requisite knowledge for it? are not these few well-educated voices obliged to sing by the side of singers who have been taught in a wrong manner, and who have no pure, correct intonation? then what do these societies amount to? do they improve or destroy the voice? they make the members musical. a fine consolation for the loss of the voice! they teach them to hit the notes and to keep time. a great comfort after the voice has been destroyed by false culture! * * * * * a singing-teacher who has no firm, decided principle, who is constantly wavering backwards and forwards, and who frequently leads others into error by his untenable opinions; who cannot quickly discern the special talent and capacity of his pupils, or discover the proper means to get rid of what is false or wrong, and adopt the speediest road to success, without any one-sided theories of perfection; who mistrusts and blames, worries, offends, and depresses, instead of encouraging; who is always dissatisfied instead of cordially acknowledging what is good in the pupil; who at one time rides a high horse instead of kindly offering a helping hand, and at another time praises as extravagantly as he before has blamed, and kills time in such ways as these,--he may be an encyclopædia of knowledge, but his success will always fall short of his hopes. firmness, decision, energy, and a delicate, quick perception; the art not to say too much or too little, and to be quite clear in his own mind, and with constant considerate kindness to increase the courage and confidence of his pupils,--these are requisite above all things for a singing-master as well as for a piano-teacher. * * * * * "my singers are to be educated for the public, for the stage, and must therefore sing loud, study hard, force their execution, and make use of a great deal of breath. how else will they be able to produce an effect?" _answer._ what, then, is the effect of your culture? i know of none, except that they at first are applauded, because they are young and pretty, and are novelties; because they have good voices, and the benevolent public wishes to encourage them; and then they disappear in a year or two without leaving any trace. "the singing-teacher can succeed in cultivating not more than one good voice in twenty, with any noteworthy result. hence the decadence of the art of singing." _answer._ unless some unusual disturbance or sickness occur, all voices improve till the twenty-fourth year. when this is not the case, it is to be attributed only to the singing-teacher. "many voices acquire a sharp tone, which is the precursor of decay." _answer._ all voices are, and will remain, more or less tender, if their culture is correct. "only jenny lind and henrietta sontag were allowed by the public to give out their voices naturally and lightly without straining them, and to sing _piano_ and _pianissimo_, and their celebrity is a justification of this privilege." _answer._ but how would they have obtained their celebrity, if this were not the true, correct, and pure mode of singing? "our singers also try the _piano_ and _pianissimo_; but they can produce no effect on their audiences by it, as you may see every day." _answer._ good heavens! i should think so! with such a _piano_, with strained voices, faulty attack, and the use of too much breath,--a _piano_ which only gurgles in the throat, or deeper! that i do not mean: i must refer you again to the three trifles mentioned in my eighth chapter. "but some voices have no _piano_, and many singers do not take the right course to acquire it." _answer._ what a wide-spread, groundless excuse! here we may see the error of our times. people look for the fault outside of themselves, and not in themselves. the inventive power of the age is here truly astonishing! when, owing to false management, the voice soon degenerates instead of improving with time, it is the consequence of a faulty formation of the throat, and of the neglect of london throat brushes! if such badly educated voices can no longer produce a _piano_, it is owing to the unskilfulness of nature, and to the false construction of the necessary organs! if the _piano_ is only a wheeze, the reason is found in the deficiency of palate, and excess of muscles! if several times in the month, the worn out, weary voice can only groan and sigh, or cannot emit a sound, it is the result of a change in the weather, or other meteorological conditions! if we complain of unpleasant, shrieking tones, occasioned by the mouth being too widely stretched, then "the rays of sound take an oblique, instead of a direct course"! if the poor, strained medium voice, even with the help of a great deal of breath, can only produce dull, hollow, veiled, and unpleasant tones, that is said to be a necessary crisis, of which cruel nature requires a great many in the course of her development of the voice! finally, if from long and forced holding of the chest-tones, they are changed into noises like the bellowing of calves and the quacking of ducks, and the instructor finally perceives it, then again we have a crisis! and, alas! no one thinks of "the three trifles." * * * * * what occasions the want of success of our singing-teachers, many of whom are musical, possess a delicate ear, fine culture and feeling, have studied systems of singing, and exert themselves zealously to teach rightly? they fail in the culture of the tone, which is not to be learned from books or by one's self, but only from verbal communication. to learn to produce a clear tone, with a light, free, natural attack; to understand how to draw forth the sound with the use of no unnecessary breath, and to cause the sound to strike against the roof of the mouth above the upper row of teeth; to improve the pronunciation; to adjust the registers,--these, with many other things, may seem very easy; but to teach them all in the shortest time, without wearing out the voice and without falling into errors; to persevere in teaching to the end, even if the pupil already sings correctly; to know what is still wanting and how it is to be attained,--all these one must acquire by long and constant experience. when schröder-devrient came from vienna to dresden, a young but already celebrated singer, though at that time wanting in the proper foundation for singing, she was not a little surprised when miksch called her attention to this deficiency. she devoted herself thoroughly to the primary formation of the tone under the instruction of miksch, and must still remember the old master, and his extraordinary practice in this particular. miksch learned it from caselli, a pupil of bernacchi. he had just sung as a young tenor, with great applause, in a concert, and introduced himself to caselli, who was present, expecting to receive his approbation; but the latter, instead of commending, assured him frankly that his mode of singing was false, and that with such misuse his voice would succumb within a year, unless he adopted a correct culture of tone. after much hard struggle, the young miksch renounced all further public applause, and studied the formation of tone assiduously and perseveringly with caselli, after having previously allowed his over-strained voice a time for rest. if a singing-teacher has, by chance, met with a docile pupil, possessed of a voice of unusual beauty, it frequently happens that the studies are not pursued with sufficient perseverance; and, perhaps, are continued only for a few weeks or months, instead of allowing a year or more, according to circumstances. richard wagner agrees with me, when he says, "why, then, write operas to be sung, when we no longer have either male or female singers?" * * * * * since modern progress has come to regard "the three trifles" as belonging entirely to the past, and in their place has proclaimed, "boldness, spirit, power," two evil spirits have had rule: they go hand in hand, ruin the voice, wound the cultivated ear, and provide for us--only empty opera houses. one of these evils has been frequently alluded to by me. it is "the expenditure of a great deal too much breath." the finest voices are obliged to practise with full breath until they shriek, and the result is mere sobbing, and the heavy drawing of the breath, just at the time when the tone should still be heard. even if every thing else could be right, in such a culture of the tone, which must very shortly relax the muscles of the voice, that one thing, in itself, would be sufficient to destroy all promise of success. the second evil endangers even the male voice, which is able to endure much ill-treatment; while the female voice is quickly forced by it into a piercing shrillness, or is driven back into the throat, soon to be entirely exhausted, or is, at least, prevented from attaining a natural, fine development. this second evil is the reckless and destructive straining of single tones to their extreme limits, even to perfect exhaustion. the poor singer urges and squeezes out the voice, and quivers to the innermost marrow, in order that the two requirements of "boldness" and "power" may be satisfied. but the "spirit" is still wanting, which should be shown in a light and well-shaded delivery. the effect of extreme shading, however, is accomplished in a single "romanza." the unfortunate, misdirected singer, who must aim at effect, lays out so much force on single tones, or even on whole lines, and that, too, in the best register of his voice (the other registers do not permit this), that the succeeding tones are forced to retire powerless into the throat; and the beautiful, fresh, youthful tenor or bass voice concludes with exhausted groaning and mere speaking tones. the "romanza" is now at an end, and certainly "boldness, spirit, and power" have worked in union. the task is executed the better, because a rude accompaniment has probably sustained the singer in a most striking manner, and has completed the total effect. by such management, to which i must emphatically add the continual holding of the tones, even in the _forte_, voices are expected "to come out," to be developed, inspired, and made beautiful. what healthy ear can endure such enormities in tone formation, such tortures in singing? these, then, are the modern contributions for the embellishment of art! a curse on these evil spirits! if my feeble pen shall assist in bringing such singing-teachers to their senses, and shall help to save only a few of our fine voices, i shall consider my mission fulfilled, and the aim of this book, so far as it concerns singing, accomplished. * * * * * i have heretofore combated many prejudices, both in earnest and in sport, successfully and unsuccessfully; but one i find very obstinate,--it has pursued me incessantly for years. a piano-player, with a rigid, strained, and vicious touch, proceeding from the arm, may play a great deal, but his playing is thoroughly vulgar and without beauty. he feels this himself, and the playing of my pupils pleases him better. he wishes me to change his style to their better manner; but he still continues to pound, to bang, to exaggerate, and to play in his own way, and only wishes his style to be improved, and his power of execution to be increased. if a performer of this sort is not much more than twenty years of age, something may yet be done for the improvement of his touch, and consequently of his style of playing; but this is only possible by laying aside all his accustomed pieces of music, and by diligently practising, daily, small easy exercises, which must be played delicately, with loose fingers, and without allowing the arm to give the slightest assistance; otherwise, all labor will be thrown away upon him. how else can you begin, except by laying a proper foundation for a better style? i have frequently urged this principle both by speech and in writing; but the difficulty always returns, and especially in the cultivation of female singers. a girl of eighteen comes to me: she has heard of the excellent cultivation of my lady singers, and wishes to obtain the same for herself. in order that i may hear her voice, she selects the "erlkönig," by schubert, that perilous piece, which is apt to lead even highly cultivated singers into frightful atrocities. heavens! what must i hear? with the remains of a fine, youthful voice, whose registers are already broken up and disconnected, she shrieks out the "erlkönig," between sobs and groans, with screwed-up chest-tones, and many modern improprieties, but nevertheless with dramatic talent. the piercing voice, forced to its utmost, fills me with horror; but also with pity for such a glorious endowment, and such an unnatural development. at the conclusion, her voice succumbed to the effort, and she could only groan hoarsely, and wheeze without emitting a sound. she has, however, frequently produced great effect in society, and drawn tears with this performance: it is her favorite piece. let us abandon this singing for parties, this melancholy _dilettantismus_, everywhere so obtrusive! the girl is only eighteen years old: is she beyond salvation? i endeavor to build her voice up again, gradually, by gentle practice. she succeeds very well in it, and after six lessons her natural docility arouses hope. the head-tones again make their appearance, and the practice of _solfeggio_ brings out once more the stifled voice which had been forced back into the throat by senseless exertions; a better attack begins to be developed, and the chest-register returns to its natural limits. she now declared, with her mother's approval, that she really would continue to study in this way, but she could not give up the performance of her effective and spirited conception of the "erlkönig." she came a few times more: i could perceive that the good structure was tottering. after a few months, she had entirely sacrificed her voice to this single "erlkönig." in such tender years, one such idol is sufficient. what a price for an "erlkönig"! the old, experienced singing-teacher, miksch, of dresden (with the exception of rossini, the last famous champion of the old school), has often warned me that radical amendment is seldom possible with such over-strained and broken voices, which already are obliged to struggle with enfeebled muscles, even although youth may excite great and decided hopes. there is also another difficulty: that one of these strong, over-strained voices must hereafter be used with much less strength, if we wish to cultivate a correct tone; and it is impossible to tell whether the chest-tones, when they are restored to their true limit, will ever come out again as powerful and at the same time as beautiful. let no musician, however talented and cultivated he may be, ever adopt the teaching of singing, unless he can combine with firmness of character great patience, perseverance, and disinterestedness; otherwise, he will experience very little pleasure and very little gratitude. even if the "erlkönig" does not stand in the way, every voice presents new and peculiar difficulties. _a few words addressed to singing-teachers on the accompaniment of etudes, exercises, scales, &c._ it is common for teachers to play their accompaniments as furiously as if they had to enter into a struggle for life and death with their singers. at the beginning of the lesson, the lady singer ought to commence quite _piano_, at _f_ in the one-lined octave, and to sing up and down from there through five or six notes, without any expenditure of breath, and should guide and bring out her voice by a gentle practice of _solfeggio_; and yet you bang, and pound on the keys, as if you had to accompany drums and trumpets. do you not perceive that in this way you induce your pupils to strain and force their voices, and that you mislead them into a false method? in such a noise, and while you are making such a monstrous expenditure of strength, to which you add a sharp, uneasy touch, and a frequent spreading of the chords, how can you watch the delicate movements of the singer's throat? is it necessary for me to explain how such a rude accompaniment must interfere with the effort to sing firmly and delicately? are you not aware that a light and agreeable, but at the same time firm and decided, accompaniment encourages and sustains the singer, and also assists and inspires her? you ought, in every way, to seek to cultivate in your pupil the feeling for the right, the true, and the beautiful; but what is the girl of eighteen to think of _your_ culture and _your_ sentiment, if you pound the keys as if you were one of the "piano-furies"? while this is your mode of accompanying the études, how then do you accompany the aria, the song? if, for instance, the pupil is singing tenderly, and wishes to bring out an artistic, delicate shading, you take advantage of that occasion to make yourself heard, and to annoy the singer and the audience with your rough shading. a singing-teacher who does not take pains to acquire a good, delicate touch, and who neglects to pay constant attention to it, is wanting in the first requirement; and this is closely connected with the want of "the three trifles." chapter x. visit at mrs. n.'s. mrs. n. _her daughter_ fatima, _eighteen years old_. an aunt. dominie. _towards the end of the evening, the piano-teacher_, mr. feeble. dominie (_rather anxiously to fatima_). will you do me the favor, miss, to play something on the piano? your aunt has told me a great deal about your playing. fatima (_smiling graciously_). but, really, the piano is out of tune,--so my teacher says. dominie. but does not your teacher attend to having your piano always kept in tune? fatima. mamma says it is too expensive to have it tuned so often; it gets out of tune again so quickly. it is an old, small-legged piano, as you see: mamma is always saying, when i am older i shall have a chickering. the tuner comes regularly once in three months; the time is not yet up. dominie. but is your teacher satisfied with the tuning of your piano? fatima. well, he has got used to it. it is the same with the other instruments he teaches on. mrs. n. now, pet, play us something. mr. dominie likes music; he is a judge of it; his daughters play too. fatima. but what shall i play, mamma? mrs. n. you have got heaps of notes there. mr. dominie, pray select something. dominie. but i don't know which pieces miss fatima can master, and which she has now at her fingers' ends. aunt. pray, mr. dominie, choose any thing. they are all fine pieces. it makes no difference to her which she plays. dominie. but do you play that whole heap? aunt. she has played it all. she has played ever since she was ten years old, and she has a very good teacher. he taught here when my sister used to accompany her lover's solos on the flute. oh, those were charming musical evenings! and the teacher often played the guitar with them _extempore_. it was just like a concert. dominie. indeed! that must have been very fine. now, miss, i beg-- fatima. but, mamma, just say what i shall play. dominie. is not your teacher here this evening? he will know best. aunt (_whispers to dominie_). he is busy this evening, composing some grand bravoura variations, which are to be dedicated to fatima on her eighteenth birthday, the day after to-morrow. you must come to see us on that day. fatima will play them at sight. mrs. n. fatima, don't hold back any longer. play "the huguenots" by thalberg: that's a very fine piece. dominie. pray do! i have not heard it since i heard thalberg play it. aunt (_to dominie_). don't you make your daughters play it then? oh, that magnificent choral! that brings tears to my eyes! but the dear child always takes it too fast: her fingers run away with her. mrs. n. here it is. please turn round so that you can see her hands, mr. dominie. you are such a famous teacher, perhaps you can make some suggestions. (_i was expected only to admire._) dominie. i don't like to disturb her freedom in playing; but i will turn round, if you say so. (_fatima scurries through the piece excitedly, and plays in a bold way,--not, however, without ability, but with a feeble touch, without proper fingering, without tone, without time; and gets over the first two pages, with her foot always on the pedal, in such a senseless, indistinct manner that dominie, in despair, was forced to interrupt with the remark, "but you might take the _tempo_ a little more quietly."_) (_fatima leans back amazed, and stops playing, looking at her mother with a contemptuous expression._) aunt. it is owing to her great execution, and then, too, her youthful enthusiasm. don't you like her natural expression? fatima. my teacher always makes me play it so. it is in that way that i have learned to play so much at sight. dominie. but don't you study your pieces? fatima. for the last four years i have played only at sight, so that now i can get on anywhere in the musical clubs. that is what mamma likes. dominie. but do you not play any scales and études? do you not practise any exercises? aunt. she has not done those things for the last four years. my sister thinks it is rather a hindrance, and is too pedantic. her teacher thinks so too, and he teaches her the fine concert pieces of döhler, liszt, dreyschock, willmer, and thalberg. she learns execution by these. she has gone through all thalberg's music; and we have sent to leipzig for willmer's "pompa di festa." dominie. all this shows great enthusiasm, but really a little too much hot haste. (_dominie wishes to continue the conversation, in order to escape the unpleasant necessity of "turning round to the piano."_) mrs. n. (_interrupts_). my child, just begin again at the beginning, and let us enjoy the whole of "the huguenots." mr. dominie likes it. (_fatima consents, and hurries through the whole potpourri with a confident, conceited air, to the great despair of dominie. at the choral, the aunt taps him on the shoulder, and whispers._) aunt. is not that touching? it is a little too fast, you will agree; but then the execution! has not the girl a great deal of talent? just hear! * * * * * but what did dominie say after the performance was over? he only bowed stiffly, and what he said to himself will always remain a secret. he only _felt_. they go in to supper. all who submitted to hearing the daughter perform on the badly tuned piano, which was at least a tone and a half too low, were invited to supper and handsomely treated. the wine was better than the piano. presently the teacher, mr. feeble, having finished his birthday bravoura composition, appeared and was introduced. fatima whispered to him, giggling, "i played the whole of 'the huguenots;' it went splendidly." mr. feeble simpered. dominie and he talked together, unheard, at the end of the table. * * * * * dominie. the young lady has talent, mr. feeble. mr. feeble. indeed she has! dominie. how is it, mr. feeble, that she does not combine serious studies with her playing? mr. feeble. oh! i used to make her play exercises by a.e. mueller, and some etudes of czerny's, and sometimes a few scales. but the child was so volatile, and had so little perseverance, and was so quick at learning every thing! and then her mother wanted her to play modern pieces for parties, and we had to busy ourselves with those. but our method has borne good fruit, as you can see. is not it so? dominie. do you not think, with firmness and decision, you could have set mrs. n. on the right track? could not you cultivate the mechanical powers of your pupil, and combine an understanding of the musical construction of the piece, with her "playing at sight"? the young lady, not to speak of other faults, has no tone on the piano. mr. feeble. she can use the pedal for that, and, when she is older, she will acquire more strength; her touch is a little too weak at present. and, besides, she is not to play in public for money, but only in company, and because it is the fashion. indeed, my dear sir, if i insisted on scales and exercises, i should have very few lessons in this city. i have a wife and children to support, and my old father, the former organist, is dependent upon me. you can do all this with your own children; but think how much time it requires to _study_ the music! (_the company bid each other "good-night."_) fatima (_flippantly to dominie_). i believe your daughter emma is a very good player; but they say she has not so much talent as your eldest daughter. dominie. indeed! who told you that? chapter xi. secrets. _(a discourse on piano-playing, delivered to an audience of lady pupils.)_ ladies,--as i am about to make a journey of a few weeks with my daughters, we will suspend for a short time our musical meetings. on my return, you will resume them with fresh interest. we will then not only play and sing together, but occasionally talk upon kindred subjects. your friends will be made welcome, provided they are really interested in simple and noble musical performances, which make no attempt at display. we will exclude from our circle malicious criticism and idle curiosity: we require the accompaniment of the violin and 'cello, but not of those two disturbing elements. to-day i wish to propound a query in regard to piano-playing, to the partial solution of which you will perhaps be glad to give some attention. you may be sure that i shall always speak only upon subjects which are not even mentioned in the most crowded piano-schools. _query._ why is it that our young, educated ladies, who enjoy the advantages of sufficient talent, industry, a serious purpose, and all the necessary aids, are usually dissatisfied with their progress and with their success in piano-playing? their education is a sufficiently careful one, extending to all branches of knowledge; but their intellectual advancement in music (although it has been fostered for years, by constantly listening to good music, and frequently to the performances of distinguished players, and by a critical comparison of their own performances with these) is still small in proportion to their power of execution, and to the mechanical facility which they have acquired. these are certainly essential to a correct and agreeable rendering of a piece of music: the compositions which are to be performed ought, however, never to demand the exercise of all the mechanical skill which has been acquired, for in that case, by the struggle with mechanical difficulties, only embarrassment, discouragement, and anxious haste are apt to take the place of boldness, confidence in one's self, and command of the music. it is the duty of teachers, in choosing studies for the improvement of technique, to select only such as are within the mechanical powers of the pupil, in order that he may make steady progress, and may acquire a pure and delicate style of execution, retaining at the same time a lively interest in his pursuit. but why has the acquirement of this technique been usually unsuccessful? . because you begin to acquire it too late. in order to gain facility and flexibility of the fingers and wrist (which a child in the sixth or seventh year, with a skilful teacher, may acquire in four lessons), from fifteen to twenty lessons, according to the construction of the hand, are necessary with persons from ten to fourteen years old. for other reasons also, we must urge that the mechanical facility should usually be acquired, or at least a complete foundation for it laid in childhood, and not left to be formed by a course which is destructive of all spirit, at an age when labor is performed with self-consciousness,--an age when our ladies are talking a great deal of musical interpretations, of tenderness and depth of feeling, of poetry and inspiration in playing, to which they are led by the possession of our classical piano compositions and immortal master-works, and by intellectual friends and teachers aiming at the highest culture. you reply: "but even if your mode of elementary instruction should meet with faithful disciples, how, in such young pupils, are we to find perseverance and sense enough to continue these severe exercises, even in your interesting manner?" my dear ladies, children ought to do it merely from habit, although in many cases, after the beginning, talent and correct musical instinct may make their appearance. uninterrupted enjoyment would indeed be unnatural, and where you find it vanity will usually be its moving spring, and this seldom bears good fruit. you may as well ask whether our great literary men and artists always like to go to school, or whether they did not delight in a holiday. let this be the answer to the strange question, do your daughters like to play? good heavens! after they are able to play, and that without much effort, and a little at sight; when they can master, with a musical appreciation, easy, graceful salon music, or even the easier compositions of beethoven, mendelssohn, chopin, hummel, moscheles, &c.,--then they take pleasure in playing, and they play a great deal, and with enthusiasm. . but, in case children should sometimes begin in their sixth year, you must remember what is said, in the first chapter of this work, with regard to the prevalent false method of teaching beginners. you, however, are supposed to have had better and more sensible teachers. let me nevertheless quote for your amusement the remark which i have heard so frequently in the course of my long life as a piano-teacher: "in the beginning, a poor, rattling piano, that is forty years old, and that is tuned regularly once a year, and a cheap teacher, will do well enough. as soon as the children learn to play really well, then we will have a better piano and a better teacher." yes; but that time never comes, and the parents soon conclude that even the most gifted children have no talent, and take no pleasure in music; and so they stop learning, only to regret it when they are older. but the parents console themselves, and after a while the old piano is never tuned at all. but, as i have told you, i do not refer here to _your_ teachers, for whom i have a personal regard, and who teach on excellent pianos. . don't be angry with me for my suggestion, ladies: _you do not make enough use of the minutes_. while our learned education absorbs so much time, while our friends require so many hours, while, alas! balls and dinners consume whole days, we must be sparing of the remaining minutes. "now i must rush to the piano! i must go to dinner in ten minutes: two scales, two finger exercises, two difficult passages out of the piece i have to learn, and one exercise to invent on the dominant and sub-dominant, are soon done; and then the dinner will taste all the better." "my dear agnes, we might talk for ever about this dreadful snow, it won't melt the sooner for it: how do you like this passage that i am going to play to you? it is from a charming nocturne, by chopin, and is so difficult that i shall have to play it over fifty times, or else i shall always stumble at this place, and i never shall know the nocturne to play to any one. don't you think it is beautiful?--so spiritual and original! i can tell you it will be something to boast of, when i have accomplished that. you like it better the oftener i play it? so do i." "we have an invitation out. mother has a great deal to arrange, and directions to give. we shall have to go in ten minutes. i must rush to the piano, though i am in rather an inconvenient toilette: i may as well accustom myself to play in it. i shall have to spend three hours this evening without any music. well, to make up for it, i will occupy myself for the next ten minutes with an exercise for this obstinate fourth finger, though it is pretty dry. that weak finger has been a hindrance to many a fine passage and scale. that is better! now i can put on my tight gloves. suppose i should put on the left glove on the way." well, my young ladies, how many hours do you think all those minutes would make in a year? but i hear you say, "what is the use of worrying to pick up all those stray minutes, like lost pins? we have a whole hour to practise every day, when nothing prevents." exactly, when nothing prevents. i will now tell you a few of my secrets for piano performers. if in piano-playing, or in any art, you wish to attain success, you must resolve to work every day, at least a little, on the technique. sickness and other unavoidable interruptions deprive you of days enough. practise always with unexhausted energy: the result will be tenfold. do you not frequently use the time for practising, when you have already been at work studying for five or six hours? have you then strength and spirit enough to practise the necessary exercises for an hour or more, and to study your music-pieces carefully and attentively, as your teacher instructed you? is not your mind exhausted, and are not your hands and fingers tired and stiff with writing, so that you are tempted to help out with your arms and elbows, which is worse than no practice at all? but, my dear ladies, if you practise properly, several times every day, ten minutes at a time, your strength and your patience are usually sufficient for it; and, if you are obliged to omit your regular "hour's practice," you have, at any rate, accomplished something with your ten minutes before breakfast, or before dinner, or at any leisure moment. so, i beg of you, let me have my minutes. practise often, slowly, and without pedal, not only the smaller and larger études, but also your pieces. in that way you gain, at least, a correct, healthy mode of playing, which is the foundation of beautiful playing. do you do this when neither your teacher, nor your father or mother is present to keep watch over you? do you never say, "nobody is listening"? do you take enough healthy exercise in the open air? active exercise, in all weather, makes strong, enduring piano fingers, while subsisting on indoor-air results in sickly, nervous, feeble, over-strained playing. strong, healthy fingers are only too essential for our present style of piano-playing, which requires such extraordinary execution, and for our heavy instruments. so i still beg for the minutes: your walks take up hours enough. excessive and fatiguing feminine occupations, and drawing, or painting, are by no means consistent with an earnest, practical musical education; not only because both those occupations require so much time, but because they deprive the fingers of the requisite pliability and dexterity, while knitting, according to the latest discoveries, produces an unnatural nervous excitement, which is unfavorable to healthy progress in music. i at least, in my instruction on the piano, have never been able to accomplish much with ladies who are devoted to knitting, crochet, and embroidering. my dear ladies, you who have been born in fortunate circumstances, and have been educated by your parents, without regard to expense, should, at least, allow the poor girl in the country, who is obliged to hide her talents under a bushel, the small privilege of making a collar for your mother's or your aunt's birthday present. i assure you your mother or your aunt, if you surprise them instead with a fine piano performance, will be as much pleased as if you strained your eyes and bent your back for days and nights over the needle-work. and now as regards painting: painting and music, though theoretically so nearly related, agree but poorly in practice; at least, if you are in earnest about either. you say painters often play on the guitar and the flute. that may be true: i will allow them those two instruments. but piano-playing stands on a different footing, even for mere amateurs. sweet melodies on those instruments may afford an agreeable companionship for the painter in his rambles through the woods and over the hills; but piano-playing should be the friend of a life-time, ennobled by the elevating enjoyment of lofty master-works. therefore, i beg you, do not dissipate your powers too much. leave the art of painting to your friends, who are either without talent for music, or who have no opportunity to study it. our short lives do not allow the successful practice of several arts. of what advantage to our higher culture is it to be able to do ten things tolerably well; what gain for the future, for humanity, or for the true happiness of the individual? and even if you can succeed in painting something which scarcely can be said to resemble a rose, of what advantage is it, when we have so many real roses to admire? my dear ladies, i warn you, generally, do not be afraid of the so-called classical, heavy music, especially beethoven's, if you desire to learn from it, only or chiefly, repose, lightness, facility, elasticity, graceful, delicate playing, and a fine touch. it is necessary to play such music after those brilliant qualities have already been, to a certain degree, acquired by mere studies and appropriate pieces. it is, however, still more foolish and impractical, when parents (who perhaps are skilful musicians, but who have no recollection of their own youth) hold the mistaken opinion that their children ought, from the very beginning, to practise and play only fine classical music, in order that the children's ears may not be injured by false progressions, by insignificant finger exercises, and by easily comprehensible italian airs, and that they themselves may not be ruined body and soul. gracious heavens! how much pure music, suited to the piano, have not my daughters, as well as many others whom i have brought up to be fine performers, played and studied!--such, for instance, as the music of hünten, czerny, burgmüller, kalkbrenner, a. and j. schmitt, herz, and many others. who finds fault now with their musical culture, with their sound taste, or their want of love for classical music? what a long road a child has to travel through etudes of cramer, moscheles, and chopin, before he comes to bach's well-tempered clavichord, or before he is able, or ought even, to study beethoven's sonate pathétique! it is not well, though quite in the spirit of the times, to condemn without experience, from one's own prejudiced point of view, the methods which those skilled in their business have for years successfully tried and practised. it is possible to make pupils musical in the above way, but they will be only dull, clumsy bunglers on the piano; not fine artists, who alone can give a worthy and noble interpretation of classical music. i desire that my daughters may never forget my well-considered instructions, sustained by the experience of many years; and that they may, in grateful remembrance of their father and teacher, repay to their pupils what they owe to him. but i see among my audience several beginners in singing, and i beg to be allowed a word to them. so long as many of our german song composers consider it beneath their dignity to study the art of singing in the old italian master-works, and under the guidance of well-qualified singing masters,--as gluck, naumann, hasse, händel, haydn, mozart, salieri, winter, and others have done,--i warn you to take care of your tender voices, which are so easily ruined, and not to allow yourselves to be misled by ingenious opinions, and by music otherwise good. the loss of your voices follows in the footsteps of modern tortures in singing, as you may see sufficiently in all our theatres, or, indeed, may experience yourselves in numberless german songs. apply also to singing what i have just said about piano-playing: as you should choose for the piano music suited to the piano, so for your studies in singing select only that which is adapted to the voice; under the guidance of prudent and educated teachers, not of modern voice breakers, who allow you to scream, "in order to bring out the voice." when you have acquired a good technique, when your attack is sure, and a certain skilfulness in singing has been developed, then only you may try, by way of experiment, a few pieces of such spirited but unskilled song composers, who frequently commit sins in every line against correct representation, the register of the voice, the breathings, the pronunciation, and a hundred other things. look around and see who sing these so-called classical songs. they are either singers who do not know what singing is, and who have no taste for it, which, in consequence of their education, they never can have; or those who no longer have any voice, and accordingly sing every thing, or, rather, declaim it, because they cannot sing. i recommend you to sing (to mention the names of two only of our most excellent song composers) the charming songs of fr. schubert and mendelssohn, who, in constant intercourse with the most judicious masters of singing in vienna and italy, have striven constantly to compose scientifically, and have at the same time produced clever songs; but you should sing them not too often, or too many of them. singing in the german language, and in syllables, and often with clumsy melodies, requires a great deal of voice, and easily leads to many faults and to a false manner. remember how strictly jenny lind selected, for performance in her concerts, the songs of schubert, mendelssohn, and schumann. in this way she succeeded in winning great success, even with small, short songs. finally, one more secret for performers, which weighs heavy in the balance. you ought, especially if you have not received good early instruction, to acquire a habit of moving the fingers very frequently, at every convenient opportunity; and particularly of letting them fall loosely and lightly upon any hard object, while the hand lies upon something firm, in an extended position. you must accustom yourselves to do this unconsciously. for example, while reading, at table, or while listening to music, allow your hand to lie upon the table, raise the fingers, and let them fall, one at a time, quite independently of the wrist; particularly the weak fourth and fifth fingers, which require to be used a hundred times more than the others, if you wish to acquire evenness in the scales. if it attracts attention to do this on the table, then do it in your lap, or with one hand over the other. to drum with your fingers and stretch your hands on the backs of other people is not often practicable, and is not necessary. that was only pardoned in the zealous and original adolph henselt, who, though otherwise such a modest and amiable artist, even now, in st. petersburg, makes himself ridiculous in this way, by his practice of finger movements. now you perceive the reason why i cannot answer the question which has been asked me innumerable times. how much do your daughters practise? i cannot count up the finger movements and the stray ten minutes just spoken of; but it is certain that they practise fewer hours in the day than many thousands who learn nothing, for they never practise and never have practised wrongly, but always correctly and advantageously. one thing more. after my experienced, watchful eye had observed in our circle many moving fingers in consequence of my lecture, a distinguished lady of vienna whispered in my ear: "but, my dear herr wieck, my amelia is not to be a professional player: i only want her to learn a few of the less difficult sonatas of beethoven, to play correctly and fluently, without notes." my dear ladies, i do not aim with you at any thing more than this. a great many circumstances must combine for the formation of fine concert performers; in fact, the whole education, from the earliest youth, must have reference to this end. if this were not so, germany especially, on account of its natural musical talent, would be able annually to furnish thousands of _virtuoso_ performers. has my lecture been too long to-day? i ask your pardon. my desire to make myself useful to you must be my excuse, if i cannot dispose of such an extensive subject in a few words. i have not yet exhausted it. chapter xii. thoughts on piano-playing. my daughters play the music of all the principal composers, and also the best salon music. limited views of any kind are injurious to art. it is as great a mistake to play only beethoven's music as to play none of it, or to play either classical or salon music solely. if a teacher confines himself to the study of the first, a good technique, a tolerably sound style of playing, intelligence, and knowledge are generally sufficient to produce an interpretation in most respects satisfactory. the music usually compensates for a style which may be, according to circumstances, either dry, cold, too monotonous or too strongly shaded, and even for an indifferent or careless touch. interest in the composition frequently diverts the attention of even the best player from a thoroughly correct and delicate mode of execution, and from the effort to enhance the beauty of the composition, and to increase its appreciation with the hearer. in the performance of classical music, inspiration--that is, the revelation of an artistic nature and not empty affectation--can be expected only from an artist, and not from a pupil. therefore, with more advanced pupils, i take up in my lessons, in connection with a sonata by beethoven, a nocturne or waltz by chopin, and a piece by st. heller or schulhoff, henselt, c. meyer, &c. elegance and polish, a certain coquetry, nicety, delicacy, and fine shading cannot be perfected in the study of a sonata by beethoven; for which, however, the latter pieces present much greater opportunities. besides this, variety is much more sustaining to the learner; it excites his interest; he does not so soon become weary, and is guarded from carelessness; his artistic knowledge is increased, and he is agreeably surprised to find himself able to perform three pieces so distinct in character. * * * * * "expression cannot be taught, it must come of itself." but when are we to look for it? when the stiff fingers are fifty or sixty years old, and the expression is imprisoned in them, so that nothing is ever to be heard of it? this is a wide-spread delusion. let us look at a few of those to whom expression has come of itself. x. plays skilfully and correctly, but his expression continues crude, cold, monotonous; he shows too pedantic a solicitude about mechanical execution and strict time; he never ventures on a _pp._, uses too little shading in _piano_, and plays the _forte_ too heavily, and without regard to the instrument; his _crescendi_ and _diminuendi_ are inappropriate, often coarse and brought in at unsuitable places; and--his _ritardandi_! they are tedious indeed! "but miss z. plays differently and more finely." truly, she plays differently; but is it more finely? do you like this gentle violet blue, this sickly paleness, these rouged falsehoods, at the expense of all integrity of character? this sweet, embellished, languishing style, this _rubato_ and dismembering of the musical phrases, this want of time, and this sentimental trash? they both have talent, but their expression was allowed to be developed of itself. they both would have been very good players; but now they have lost all taste for the ideal, which manifests itself in the domain of truth, beauty, and simplicity. if pupils are left to themselves, they imitate the improper and erroneous easily and skilfully; the right and suitable with difficulty, and certainly unskilfully. even the little fellow who can hardly speak learns to use naughty, abusive words more quickly and easily than fine, noble expressions. what school-master has not been surprised at this facility, and what good old aunt has not laughed at it? but you say, "it is not right to force the feelings of others!" that is quite unnecessary; but it is possible to rouse the feelings of others, to guide and educate them, without prejudicing their individuality of feeling, and without restraining or disturbing them, unless they are on the wrong path. who has not listened to performers and singers who were otherwise musical, but whose sentiment was either ridiculous or lamentable? * * * * * it is generally acknowledged that, among other things, i have succeeded more or less with all my scholars in the attainment of a fine touch. people desire to obtain from me the requisite exercises for the development of this; but not much can be gained from these. the important thing is _how_ and _when_ they are to be used; and that most careful attention shall be paid in the selection of other études and pieces, in order that nothing shall be played which shall endanger the confirmation of the correct touch already acquired, or shall undo what has been accomplished in the lessons. as i have said before, it does not depend upon much practising, but upon correct practising; and that the pupils shall not be allowed to fall into errors. i am constantly asked, "how many hours a day do your daughters practise?" if the number of hours spent in practising gives the measure of the standing of a _virtuoso_, then my daughters are among the most insignificant, or in fact should not belong to the order at all. this is the place for me to explain myself more fully with regard to playing with a loose wrist, in order that i shall not be misunderstood. the tones which are produced with a loose wrist are always more tender and more attractive, have a fuller sound, and permit more delicate shading than the sharp tones, without body, which are thrown or fired off or tapped out with unendurable rigidity by the aid of the arm and fore-arm. a superior technique can with few exceptions be more quickly and favorably acquired in this way than when the elbows are required to contribute their power. i do not, however, censure the performance of many _virtuosos_, who execute rapid octave passages with a stiff wrist; they often do it with great precision, in the most rapid _tempo_, forcibly and effectively. it must, after all, depend upon individual peculiarities whether the pupil can learn better and more quickly to play such passages thus or with a loose wrist. the present style of bravoura playing for _virtuosos_ cannot dispense with facility in octave passages; it is a necessary part of it. i will now consider the use of loose and independent fingers, in playing generally; _i.e._, in that of more advanced pupils who have already acquired the necessary elementary knowledge. the fingers must be set upon the keys with a certain decision, firmness, quickness, and vigor, and must obtain a command over the key-board; otherwise, the result is only a tame, colorless, uncertain, immature style of playing, in which no fine _portamento_, no poignant _staccato_, or sprightly accentuation can be produced. every thoughtful teacher, striving for the best result, must, however, take care that this shall only be acquired gradually, and must teach it with a constant regard to individual peculiarities, and not at the expense of beauty of performance, and of a tender, agreeable touch. * * * * * it is a mortifying fact for many critics, artists, composers, and teachers, that the general public show much more correct judgment and appreciation of a fine, noble piano performance, and of a simple, pure, well-taught style of singing, and also understand the characteristics of the performer, much more quickly than they do. the sensibility and appreciation of beauty with the public is less prejudiced, less spurious, more receptive, and more artless. its perceptions are not disturbed by theories, by a desire to criticise, and many other secondary matters. the public do not take a biassed or stilted view. the admiration for jenny lind is a striking proof of this, as is also the appreciation of many piano-players. * * * * * the age of progress announces, in piano-playing also, "a higher beauty" than has hitherto existed. now, i demand of all the defenders of this new style, wherein is this superior beauty supposed to consist? it is useless to talk, in a vague way, about a beauty which no one can explain. i have listened to the playing--no, the thrumming and stamping--of many of these champions of the modern style of beauty; and i have come to the conclusion, according to my way of reasoning, that it ought to be called a higher,--quite different, inverted beauty,--a deformed beauty, repugnant to the sensibilities of all mankind. but our gifted "age of the future" protests against such cold conservatism. the period of piano fury which i have lived to see, and which i have just described, was the introduction to this new essay, only a feeble attempt, and a preliminary to this piano future. should this senseless raging and storming upon the piano, where not one idea can be intelligently expressed in a half-hour, this abhorrent and rude treatment of a grand concert piano, combined with frightful misuse of both pedals, which puts the hearer into agonies of horror and spasms of terror, ever be regarded as any thing but a return to barbarism, devoid of feeling and reason? this is to be called music! music of the future! the beauty of the future style! truly, for this style of music, the ears must be differently constructed, the feelings must be differently constituted, and a different nervous system must be created! for this again we shall need surgeons, who lie in wait in the background with the throat improvers. what a new and grand field of operations lies open to them! our age produces monsters, who are insensible to the plainest truths, and who fill humanity with horror. political excesses have hardly ceased, when still greater ones must be repeated in the world of music. but comfort yourselves, my readers: these isolated instances of madness, these last convulsions of musical insanity, with however much arrogance they may be proclaimed, will not take the world by storm. the time will come when no audience, not even eager possessors of complimentary tickets, but only a few needy hirelings, will venture to endure such concert performances of "the future." * * * * * i ought to express myself more fully with regard to expression in piano-playing. it is difficult to perform this task, at least in writing; for it can more easily be practically explained to individual learners. intelligent teachers, who are inclined to understand my meaning, will find abundant material, as well as all necessary explanations, in the preceding chapters; and i will merely say that a teacher who is endowed with the qualities which i have designated as "the three trifles" will seek to excite the same in his pupils; will refine and cultivate them, according to his ability, with disinterestedness, with energy, and with perseverance; and truth and beauty will everywhere be the result. thus he will remain in the present, where there is so much remaining to be accomplished. these three trifles certainly do not have their root in folly, want of talent, and hare-brained madness; therefore the possessors of the latter must look to the "future," and proclaim a "higher," that is, an "inverted beauty." _rules for piano pupils._ you must never begin to learn a second piece until you have entirely conquered the first. you ought to fix your eyes very carefully on the notes, and not to trust to memory; otherwise, you will never learn to play at sight. in order to avoid the habit of false fingering, you should not play any piece which is not marked for the proper fingers. you should learn to play chords and skipping notes, without looking at the keys, as this interferes with a prompt reading of the notes. you must learn to count nicely in playing, in order always to keep strict time. to use for once the language of the times, which boldly proclaims, "such things as these belong to a stand-point which we have already reached," i wish that the musicians of "the future" may as happily reach their "stand-point," not by hollow phrases and flourishes, and the threshing of empty straws, but by practical, successful efforts, and striving for that which is better. * * * * * "what is the value of your method, in the instruction of pupils who have for years played many pieces from notes, but have played them badly, and whom we are called upon to lead into a better way of playing?" a reply to this frequent inquiry can be found in my first chapter. above all things, let the notes which have already been played be laid aside for a long time; for a mistaken style of playing these has become so confirmed that to improve them is hopeless, and the tottering edifice must fall to the ground. first, improve the touch; help to acquire a better and more connected scale; teach the formation of different cadences on the dominant and sub-dominant; and the construction of various passages on the chord of the diminished seventh, to be played with correct, even, and quiet fingering, _legato_ and _staccato_, _piano_, and _forte_; pay strict attention to the use of loose fingers and a loose wrist; and allow no inattentive playing. you may soon take up, with these studies, some entirely unfamiliar piece of music, suited to the capacity of the pupil. it is not possible or desirable to attempt to make a sudden and thorough change with such pupils, even if they should show the best intentions and docility. you should select a light, easy piece of salon music, but of a nature well adapted to the piano, which shall not be wearisome to the pupil, and in the improved performance of which he will take pleasure. but, if you still find that he falls into the old, faulty manner of playing, and that the recently acquired technique, which has not yet become habitual, is endangered by it, lay this too aside, and take instead some appropriate étude, or perhaps a little prelude by bach. if, in the place of these, you choose for instruction a ponderous sonata, in which the music would distract the attention of the pupil from the improved technique, you give up the most important aim of your instruction, and occupy yourself with secondary matters; you will censure and instruct in vain, and will never attain success. you must consider, reflect, and give your mind to the peculiar needs of the pupil, and you must teach in accordance with the laws of psychology. you will succeed after a while, but precipitation, compulsion, and disputes are useless. the improvement of a soprano voice, ruined by over-screaming, requires prudence, patience, calmness, and modesty, and a character of a high type generally. it is also a very thankless task, and success is rare; while on the piano a fair result may always be accomplished. * * * * * i return once more to the subject so frequently discussed, that i may try to relieve the universal difficulty of our lady pianists. i have heard much playing of late, in parties both small and large, on well-tuned and on ill-tuned pianos, on those with which the performer was familiar, and on those to which she was unaccustomed; from the timid and the self-possessed; from ladies of various ages, possessed of more or of less talent, and in various cities: the result was always the same. we hear from the ladies that they could play their pieces at home before their parents or their teachers; but this is never sufficient to enable them to save their hearers from weariness, anxiety, and all sorts of embarrassment. my honored ladies, you play over and over again two mazourkas, two waltzes, two nocturnes, and the funeral march of chopin, the mazourka and other pieces by schulhoff, the trill-etude, and the tremolo by carl meyer, &c.: "it makes no difference to you which." you might be able to master these pieces pretty well, but, instead of this, you yourselves are mastered. you become embarrassed, and your hearers still more so: the affair ends with apologies on both sides, with equivocal compliments, with encouragement to continue in the same course, with acknowledgment of fine hands for the piano, with uneasy, forced congratulations to the parents and teacher; but it is always a happy moment when the fatal soirée is over. the next day i am forced to sigh again over the same, miserable, poorly and tediously performed funeral march of chopin, and over the timorous b major mazourka by schulhoff. the left hand is always left in the lurch in the difficult, skipping basses of this piece, and in others of the present style, which are rich in harmony and modulations. the bass part in this piece is apt to suffer from timid and false tones; frequently the fundamental tone is omitted, or the little finger remains resting upon it, instead of giving the eighth note with a crisp, elastic, and sprightly touch, and the chords are tame and incomplete. you do not give them their full value; you leave them too quickly, because you are afraid of not striking the next low note quickly enough; but, on the other hand, you do not strike it at all, and one missing tone brings another one after it. the right hand, being the most skilful, is supposed to play with expression, and really does so; but this only makes the performance the worse. the fundamental tone is wanting, and you are led to make a mistake in the skip, and strike the wrong key. finally, the whole thing is ended in terror. i have an uneasy night; i dream of your fine hands, but the false and the weak notes start up between like strange spectres or will o' the wisps, and i wake with the headache, instead of with pleasant memories. allow me to give you a piece of advice. play and practise the bass part a great deal and very often, first slowly, then quicker, during one or two weeks, before playing the right hand with it, in order that you may give your whole attention to playing the bass correctly, delicately, and surely. even when you can get through the mazourka tolerably well, you must not think, on that account, that you will be able to play it in company, under trying circumstances. you ought to be able to play the piece by yourself with ease, very frequently, perfectly, and distinctly, and in very rapid _tempo_, before you trust yourself to perform it even slowly in company. at least, practise the more difficult passages for the right hand very frequently, particularly the difficult and bold conclusion, that it may not strike the hearer as rough, weak, tame, or hurried. it is an old rule, "if you begin well and end well, all is well." you ought to practise the skipping bass over and over again by itself, otherwise it will not go. an incorrect or deficient bass, without depth of tone and without accentuation, ruins every thing, even the good temper of the hearer. one thing more: you know very well chopin's nocturne in e flat, and have played it, among other things, for the last four weeks. suddenly you are called upon to play in company. you choose this nocturne because you have played it nearly every day for four weeks. but alas! the piano fiends have come to confuse you! you strike a false bass note, and at the modulation the weak little finger touches too feebly: bah! the fundamental tone is wanting. you are frightened, and grow still more so; your musical aunt is frightened also; the blood rushes to your teacher's face, and i mutter to myself, "_c'est toujours la même._" the present style of skipping basses requires a great deal of practice and perfect security; it is necessary for you to know the piece by heart, in order to give your whole attention to the left hand. it is also essential that you shall have acquired a clear, sound touch; otherwise, you cannot give a delicate accent and shading. you must never allow yourself, _without previous preparation_, to play those pieces of music in company, in which an elegant mode of execution is all-important; otherwise, you will be taken by surprise by unexpected difficulties. you must always pay special attention to the fundamental tones, even if there should be imperfections elsewhere. where one fault is less important than another, of two evils choose the least. you have been playing now for six or eight years: are you repaid for the trouble, if it only enables you to prepare embarrassments for others? you are not willing to play easy, insignificant pieces; and such pieces as you choose require industry, earnestness, and perseverance. * * * * * young ladies, it is easy to discover the character of a person from his manner of standing, walking, moving, and speaking, from the way he bows, puts on and takes off his hat, or the arrangements of the household; and we seldom are in error about it. it is also possible to infer beforehand how you will play and what sort of a performance you will give, from the manner in which you take your seat at the piano. you sidle up to the piano lazily, bent over in a constrained manner; in your embarrassment, you place yourself before the one-lined or two-lined _c_, instead of before _f_; you sit unsteadily, either too high or too low, only half on the seat, leaning either too much to the right or to the left; in a word, as if you did not belong to the fatal music-stool. your manner awakens no confidence, and in this way announces that you have none yourself. how do you expect to exercise control over a grand seven octave piano, if you do not sit exactly in the middle, with the body erect and the feet on the two pedals? you are not willing to look the friend straight in the face, with whom you are to carry on a friendly, confidential discourse! even if your attitude and bearing were not so injurious and dangerous for the performer as it is, still propriety and good sense would require that you should excite the confidence of your hearers in you and in your playing by a correct position of the body, and by a certain decision and resolution, and should prepare him to form a good opinion of you. there are, indeed, many _virtuosos_ who think they give evidence of genius, by throwing themselves on to the music-stool in a slovenly, lounging manner, and try to show in this way their superiority to a painstaking performance, and to make up by a showy _nonchalance_ for what is wanting in their playing. you are, however, a stranger to such assertion of superior genius, and to such an expression of intensity of feeling; you do it only from embarrassment, and from a modest want of confidence in your own powers, which is quite unnecessary. our great masters, such as field, hummel, moscheles, mendelssohn, and others, had no taste for such improprieties, for such manifestations of genius. they applied themselves to their task with earnest devotion, and with respect for the public. chapter xiii. on musical talent. a large and varied experience is required for a correct estimate of musical talent in the young. do not be deceived by the early evidences of talent; for instance, interest in melodies, correct feeling for time, an instinct for accenting the important notes, inclination for some peculiar though often perverted style of performance, quick apprehension, a natural aptitude for playing, a nice hearing, animation, rapid progress, docility, superficial gayety; even if all or a part of these traits are observable in early youth, they must not excite too sanguine hopes. i have often met with such phenomena, and have been called upon to educate such little piano prodigies. they advanced quite rapidly, and understood every thing readily, if i did not make too much demand upon their wavering attention. i dreamed of the extraordinary surprises that these marvellous youths would create at twelve or fourteen years of age; but the fulfilment of my ideal i saw only in my mind's eye, for just then the improvement came to a sudden stand-still,--a fatal moment, when the teacher is perplexed to know what to do next. the musical nature seemed to have exhausted itself, to have out-lived itself. the pupil even felt this: his interest in the piano and in music generally grew feeble, his playing suddenly became careless, powerless, spiritless; he played with evident indifference. out into the fresh air! into open natural scenes! now for a journey! i allowed a long vacation to intervene; the pupil was quite contented, and had no desire for the piano, or, if so, only jingled a little. at last we began again, but we spent our time without much result; he was nevertheless still musical, but he finally ranked at best with dozens of other players, and ended as an ordinary piano teacher. similar halts in progress occur in fact with all pupils, especially with female scholars; but they are not usually so lasting, so discouraging, or so significant of exhaustion. they are surmounted, after a short interval, by the discontinuance of serious musical studies; perhaps by reading at sight for a while; by occupying the pupil for a time with the theory, or with attempts at composition or improvisation; by allowing him to listen to other players better or worse; by giving him interesting books to read; by making him acquainted with beethoven, or in other ways. from our observation of such sudden changes, and of the frequent occurrence of unskilful management, we can explain the sudden appearance and equally sudden disappearance of innumerable infant prodigies in our age, who have excited hopes, and have almost all of them been lost, or have passed out of sight, and resulted in nothing of value. i have always preferred a gradual, even a slow development, step by step, which often made no apparent progress, but which still proceeded with a certain constancy, and with deliberation, and which was combined with dreamy sensibility and a musical instinct, requiring slow awakening, and even with a certain flightiness, one for which the patient labor and perseverance of six years or more was required, and where childishness allowed no encouragement to sordid speculations for the future. in such cases, when my instructions were not disturbed by untoward circumstances, the result has always been a desirable one. but how much patience and perseverance has this required! i have reflected much and have often spoken, both seriously and playfully, of the slow advancement of my pupils. allow me here to describe five phases or stages of human development. _first stage._ in the first two or three years, man is far behind the animal, whose quick instinct distinguishes the good from the bad, the useful from the injurious. the child, without hesitation, rolls off the table, or knocks his brains out, or destroys himself with poisonous herbs or arsenic. nevertheless, let him at that age hear plenty of pure sounds, music, singing, &c. he will soon learn to listen, like the little black poodle. he already has a dim suspicion that other things exist which are not evil, besides mamma, papa, the nurse, the doll, and the sound of words. _second stage._ from the fourth to the seventh year, instinct is developed; which, in the animal, surprises the observer in the first two weeks of life. now we should begin with the technique, at least with the correct movement of the fingers upon the table. the child should be told that he shall soon produce the pleasant tones, which he has been accustomed to hear from infancy; but that for this a quick and quiet movement of the fingers is necessary, which must be acquired by daily practice. this is entirely in accordance with nature, for man is appointed to learn. let the child lay his hand upon the table, and knock upon it with the first finger (_i.e._, the thumb) stretched out, without using the muscles of the arm, then with the second, third, and fourth fingers, in an almost perpendicular position, and with the fifth finger extended. then let him strike a third with the first and third fingers together; a fourth, with the first and fourth fingers; first with the right hand, then with the left hand, and afterwards with both together, &c. _third stage._ from the seventh to the twelfth year. at this stage unruliness makes its appearance, and at the same time--the notes; but not beethoven. that would indeed be an unfortunate musical indulgence. violent outbreaks of untamed strength; unexpected freaks; alternations of rude instinct and quick intelligence, of lofty fancy and artless simplicity; disobedience; much appetite, &c.,--all these must be shaped, and made subservient to the object we have in view. do you understand me, gentlemen? _fourth stage._ excellent parents, who desire to see the ripe fruits of your care and labor, have patience! first there comes the foreshadowing of manhood,--a very interesting period. the youth steps out of the animal into the human kingdom, and often is unable to forget his earlier condition, but revels in sweet remembrance of it. try now, gently and timidly, beethoven, chopin, schumann, and the like. this extraordinary being, "one-fourth animal and three-fourths human," requires to be awakened, excited, and to have the imagination aroused; and, above all, requires the most careful guidance. it is necessary to stir and agitate the nature, in order that reflection, conscience, the sensibilities of the soul, feeling, creative power, and all inward conditions shall be developed; and that out of this chaos shall be brought a clear and beautiful order. _fifth stage._ the adult man in his eighteenth year. the year, however, varies with individuals, and can be modified at will. if i should enter into details of the four earlier stages of humanity, and treat in addition of the adult man, i should be obliged to write a philosophical work on the subject, and that might not be entertaining. i should be obliged to beg your indulgence for a tedious book, and my daughters certainly would not thank me for it; they are very sensitive. but i must, nevertheless, secretly whisper in your ear that "my daughters, like the daughters of many others, have been carried through these five stages in the most careful and thorough manner." i ought to know that best. here you have the answer to many strange questions. _cautions._ i warn pianists, and others also, in playing: . against any showy and unsuitable display. why should you wish to attract attention, and to create an effect by foppishness and all sorts of grimaces, or by curious and marvellous exhibitions of _virtuoso_-ship? you have only to play musically and beautifully, and to deport yourselves with modesty and propriety. direct your whole attention to the business in hand,--that is, to your performance; and endeavor to secure for it the interest of the public, who are so easily rendered inattentive. we want no more public performances from eccentric geniuses. . do not devote yourself exclusively to pieces calculated to show the skill of the performer. why desire always to show off your power in octave passages, your trills, your facility in skips, your unprecedented stretches, or other fantastic feats? you only produce weariness, satiety, and disgust, or, at least, you make yourselves ridiculous. . play good music in a musical and rational manner. the public are tired of hearing potpourris, made up of odds and ends, tedious etudes, rhapsodies, fantasias without fancy, dismal monotonies and endless, cheap, silly cadences that mean nothing. learn to understand the age, and the world in which you live. . do not make yourselves ridiculous by new inventions in piano-playing. i mention, for example, one of the most foolish affectations of modern times. you try to quiver on a note, just as violin and 'cello players are unfortunately too much inclined to do. do not expose yourselves to the derision of every apprentice in piano manufacture. have you no understanding of the construction of the piano? you have played upon it, or have, some of you, stormed upon it, for the last ten years; and yet you have not taken pains to obtain even a superficial acquaintance with its mechanism. the hammer, which by its stroke upon the string has produced the sound, falls immediately when the tone resounds; and after that you may caress the key which has set the hammer in motion, fidget round on it as much as you please, and stagger up and down over it, in your intoxicated passion,--no more sound is to be brought out from it, with all your trembling and quivering. it is only the public who are quivering with laughter at your absurdity. . give up the practice of extreme stretches. widely dispersed harmonies may sometimes produce a good effect, but not by too frequent and too eager an employment of them at every opportunity. even the greatest beauties in art can lead to mannerism, and this again to one-sidedness. art should be many-sided, and you must never produce the impression that you are inclined to make the means an end. i beg you to reflect that too much practice of very wide stretches enfeebles the muscles and the power of the hand and fingers, endangers an even, sound touch, and makes the best style of playing a doubtful acquisition. teachers ought therefore to use great prudence, and only gradually to permit their pupils, especially young girls, to practise great extensions and wide stretches. to learn to be able to strike ten notes is quite enough. . before you perform a piece, play a few suitable chords, and a few appropriate passages or scales up and down (but play no stupid trash, such as i have heard from many _virtuosos_), in order to try whether the condition of the instrument presents any unexpected difficulties. try carefully also the unavoidable pedal. a creaking, rattling, grating pedal is a frightful annoyance; i wonder if the piano of "the future" is to suffer from this also. chopin's funeral march, with obligato accompaniment of a squeaking pedal sentiment, even although the omissions and mistakes in the bass do not occur,--alas! who can describe the effect of this melancholy march? . i have written a special article on the manner of sitting at the piano, and i will refer you once more to that. . use no mechanical aids in practising, not even the dumb key-board; although, with very careful use, that is not without value. strength will come with time; do not try to hurry nature. the table is the best "dumb key-board," as i have already explained. the "hand-guide" is also unnecessary: its value is compensated by its disadvantages. . do not let your hearers crowd too near while you are playing. do not play the same piece _da capo_. you may be justified in breaking off in the midst of a piece, if there is loud and continuous talking, &c. i hope you will give me the honor of your company again at my soirées: i am no writer of comedies, but i can tell you a great deal that is interesting and amusing which i have myself experienced. chapter xiv. extravagances in singing and piano-playing. _(an evening party at mr. gold's.)_ dramatis personÆ. mr. gold, _the banker (fond of music)._ mrs. gold _(sings, and is an invalid.)_ mr. silver, _bookkeeper (formerly a singer with strauss)._ mr. pious, _a friend of the family (a musical impostor, and a hypocrite generally)._ mr. forte, _a foreign piano virtuoso (of weak nerves)._ dominie, _a piano-teacher._ emma, _his daughter._ (_mrs. gold has just been singing in the modern italian manner; suddenly alternating exaggerated high and low tones, given in a jerking manner, with inaudible _pianissimo_ in the throat, and quavering on every note, with many ornaments, and always a quarter of a tone too flat. she sang all the four verses of "fondly i think of thee" by krebs._) dominie. will you not go on, mrs. gold? the piano is a little too high, and you are obliged to accustom yourself a little to it. mrs. gold. i cannot sing any more. that beautiful song has taken such hold of me, and i feel so badly. (_whispers to dominie._) mr. forte did not accompany me well, either: sometimes he did not come in right, and played too feebly; and sometimes he improvised too much in playing, and overpowered my voice, which is a little weak just now. dominie (_aside to emma_). what an evening of singing! oh dear! mr. gold (_who has been earnestly talking about stocks all the evening in an adjoining room, rushes in, but rather late, after the close of the song, and impetuously presses his wife's hand_). marvellous! magnificent! delicious! wonderful! my dear, you are in excellent voice this evening. if jenny lind could only have heard you! mr. pious. charming! superb! how touching! there is a religious character in this piece, something holy about it! i beg of you, do sing that air by voss, "true happiness." that will make our enjoyment complete; it is truly ravishing! there is something divine in singing, and your expression, your feeling, madam! you give yourself up so entirely to the composition! (_mrs. gold has already taken up "true happiness," and can hardly wait while mr. forte murmurs off the introduction, quite after his own fancy, with a sentimental _piano_. mr. pious drops a tear at the close of the introduction, the four bars of which have been transformed into eight bars by the great _virtuoso_. during the tremulous, affected performance of "true happiness," mr. pious rolls up his moistened eyes; and, at the end of the first verse, where the accompanist once more gives the reins to his fancy, he says, "i am speechless, i cannot find words to express my emotion!"_) dominie (_aside to emma_). that you may call forged sentiment, the counterfeit of feeling. you hear now how one ought _not_ to sing. for an earnest, true musician, such a warmth in singing is only empty affectation, disgusting, sentimental rubbish, and hollow dissimulation. you will, however, frequently meet with such amateur infelicities. (_mrs. gold has finished singing all the verses of "true happiness," and seems now to have almost entirely recovered. mr. gold continues to converse about stocks in the adjoining room. dominie remains with emma at the end of the parlor, depressed and worried._) mr. forte (_keeps his seat at the piano, and says in french to mrs. gold_). madam, you have reached the climax of the beautiful in music. i count it one of the happiest moments of my artistic tour to be allowed to breathe out my soul at the piano, in the presence of one like yourself. what a loss, that your position must prevent you from elevating the german opera to its former greatness, as its most radiant star! mrs. gold (_by this time quite well_). i must confess that jenny lind never quite satisfied me when she was here. she is, and must always remain, a swede,--utterly cold. if she had been educated here, she would have listened to more passionate models than in stockholm, and that would have given the true direction to her sensibility. mr. forte. you are quite right; you have a just estimate of her. in paris, where she might have heard such examples, she lived in perfect retirement. i was giving concerts there at the time; but she refused to sing in my concerts, and therefore she did not even hear me. mr. silver (_whom the excitement of the singing has at length reached_). do you feel inclined now, madam, to execute with me the duet from "the creation," between adam and eve? mrs. gold. here is "the creation," but we will sing it by and by. mr. forte is just going to play us his latest composition for the left hand, and some of the music of that romantic, deeply sensitive chopin. mr. gold (_rushes in from his stock discussion_). oh, yes! chopin's b major mazourka! that was also played at my house by henselt, thalberg, and dreyschock. oh, it is touching! all (_except mr. silver, dominie, and emma_). oh, how touching! dominie (_to his daughter_). if he plays it in the same manner in which he accompanied "true happiness," you will hear how this mazourka should _not_ be played. it, by the way, is not at all _touching_: it gives quite boldly the polish dance rhythm, as it is improvised by the peasants in that country; but it is, however, idealized after chopin's manner. (_mr. forte plays several perilous runs up and down with various octave passages, all the time keeping his foot on the pedal; and connects with these immediately, and without a pause, the mazourka, which he commences _presto_. he played it without regard to time or rhythm, but with a constant _rubato_, and unmusical jerks. a few notes were murmured indistinctly _pp._, and played very _ritardando_; then suddenly a few notes were struck very rapidly and with great force, so that the strings rattled; and the final b major chord cost the life of one string._) mr. gold. excellent! bravissimo! what a comprehension of the piece! such artistic performances make one even forget the stock-exchange! mrs. gold. you agitate my inmost nerves! the english poet, pope, holds that no created man can penetrate the secrets of nature; but you have penetrated the secrets of my soul. now do play at once the f sharp minor mazourka, opus . mr. pious. what a musical evening mrs. gold has prepared for us! what sublime sorrow lies in this production! mr. silver (_aside_). what would father strauss say to this affected, unmusical performance, that bids defiance to all good taste? dominie. mrs. gold, it would be well to send for the tuner to replace this broken b string. the next one will break soon, for it is already cracked, and its tone is fallen. mr. forte (_with a superior air_). it is of no consequence. that frequently happens to me; but i never mind it. the piano is a battle-field where there must be sacrifices. dominie (_whispers to emma_). he thinks that if the sound is not musical, still it makes a noise; and tones out of tune produce more effect than those that are pure. emma. where did he learn piano-playing? dominie. my child, he has not _learned_ it. that is genius, which comes of itself. instruction would have fettered his genius, and then he would have played distinctly, correctly, unaffectedly, and in time; but that would be too much like the style of an amateur. this uncontrolled hurly-burly, which pays no regard to time, is called the soaring of genius. (_mr. forte storms through various unconnected chords with the greatest rapidity, with the pedal raised; and passes without pause to the f sharp minor mazourka. he accents vehemently, divides one bar and gives it two extra quarter notes, and from the next bar he omits a quarter note, and continues in this manner with extreme self-satisfaction till he reaches the close; and then, after a few desperate chords of the diminished seventh, he connects with it liszt's transcription of schubert's serenade in d minor. the second string of the two-lined b snaps with a rattle, and there ensues a general whispering "whether the piece is by mendelssohn, or döhler, or beethoven, or proch, or schumann," until finally mr. silver mentions schubert's serenade. mr. forte concludes with the soft pedal, which in his inspired moments he had already made frequent use of._) dominie (_to emma_). you should never play in company, without mentioning previously what you are going to perform. you observe, as soon as the serenade was mentioned, it put a stop to the guessing. all (_except mr. silver and dominie_). what a glorious performance! what an artistic treat! mrs. gold. what spirituality in his playing! mr. silver (_asking mr. forte for information_). i noticed, in the serenade, you made only one bar of the two where it modulates to f major, in your rapid playing of the passage. was that accidental? emma (_aside_). he ought to have played a little slower just there. mr. forte. in such beautiful passages, every thing must be left to the suggestion of one's feelings. perhaps another time i may make three bars, just as inspiration and genius may intimate. those are æsthetic surprises. henselt, moscheles, thalberg, and clara wieck do not execute in that manner, and consequently can produce no effect, and do not travel. dominie (_to emma_). i hope that your natural taste and your musical education will preserve you from such preposterous extravagances. emma. such playing makes one feel quite uncomfortable and worried. probably that is what you call "devilish modern"? dominie. yes. emma. but do people like it? dominie. certainly: a great many people do. it has the superior air of genius, and sounds very original. (_mrs. gold has "the creation" in her hand, and mr. silver leads her to the piano for the execution of the grand duet between adam and eve. mr. forte is exhausted, and dominie plays the accompaniment. mr. silver sings intelligently and unaffectedly; mrs. gold, as before, but with still less regard to time, and more out of tune; but she tries to compensate for this by introducing very long ornaments at the _fermate_ in the _allegro_, sung with her thin, piercing, over-strained voice; and she frequently rolls up her black eyes. at the conclusion, mrs. gold was led to the arm-chair, in great exhaustion of feeling._) mr. pious. the divine art of music celebrates its perfect triumph in such interpretations of haydn. mrs. gold, were those delicious _fermate_ of your own invention? mrs. gold. no: the charming viardot-garcia first introduced them as rosina in "the barber of seville," and i had them written down by a musician in the theatre. but the employment of them in this duet is my own idea. i have already surprised and delighted a great many people with them in parties. the grand, rushing, chromatic scale with which the artistic garcia astonishes every one, when acting the dreaming, fainting amina in "la somnambula," i introduce in the grand aria of the divine "prophet;" rather timidly, it is true, for the boldness of a garcia can only be acquired on the stage. emma. but, father, jenny lind sang in this duet in vienna, quite simply, and with a pure religious spirit. dominie. that is the reason mrs. gold says that jenny lind sings too coldly, and ought to listen to more passionate models. but we will talk more about this at home. mrs. gold. now, mr. dominie, will not your daughter emma play us some little trifle? afterwards i will execute with mr. silver, "by thy loving kindness, o lord," and a few duets by kücken, and finish, if the company wishes, with the "grâce" aria. dominie. will you allow me first to replace this broken string? (_after dominie has finished, mr. forte strides up to the piano, and plays his etude for the left hand, with the right hand extended towards the company._) dominie (_to mr. forte, after the conclusion of the piece_). would it not have been easier and more to the purpose, if you had used both hands? mr. forte. we must forgive old people such pedantic observations. you entirely mistake my stand-point. do you not see that i am standing with one foot in the future? are you not aware that the public wish not only to listen, but to see something strange? do you not perceive also that my appearance of ill-health produces a great musical effect? mr. pious. do you not feel the special charm and the fine effect which is produced by the left hand playing alone, and no less by the right hand extended? dominie. is it so? well, probably feeling has taken a false direction with me. i shall be obliged to accustom myself to such parisian flights of sentiment. (_emma played chopin's ballad in a flat major, after dominie had previously announced it. the company were attentive._) mr. forte (_at the conclusion_). bravo! a very good beginning, mr. dominie. i am sorry that i am obliged to take leave now: i am obliged to go to two more soirées this evening, and have many letters of introduction to deliver. mr. silver. miss emma, i have just heard that you play finely a great deal of chopin's music. let us hear his two latest nocturnes. mrs. gold (_to emma_). have you heard the famous camilla pleyel play kalkbrenner's charming d minor concerto? do you not also play such brilliant music? for example, döhler's beautiful, pathetic notturno in d flat. mr. x. lately played that to us enchantingly. emma. i know it. i am teaching it to my little sister, cecilia. dominie. will you allow her now to play chopin's two nocturnes, opus ? * * * * * i will say nothing about the conclusion of the singing,--the "grâce" aria. at midnight there was a grand supper, washed down with sweet wine, and seasoned with bitter recollections of this musical evening. chapter xv. conclusion. i have received the following communication from an old literary friend, to whom i sent my eighth chapter, requesting his opinion of it:-- motto. _there are unreceptive times, but that which is eternal outlives all times._--joh. von mÜller. my dear friend,--i have read your eighth chapter. what you facetiously call "the three trifles" seem to me to be three most important points, even if you had described them simply as _fine_ taste, _deep_ feeling, and _a good_ ear. who expects superlative excellence from the age in which he lives, and who dares to attack it, in its most vulnerable parts? you grow more harsh and disagreeable, and you do not seem to consider how many enemies you make, among those who think that they have long ago advanced beyond these three points. just now, too, when there is so much said about "the intellectual" in music, and about "the inner nature of the future," and when such fine expressions are invented about it, you come forward with your three unseasonable trifles in the superlative degree. do you imagine that our intelligent age cannot discern your hidden satire? you say that our times are in need of your three trifles, _and_ the necessary knowledge and experience. _voilà tout!_ as for prince louis ferdinand, dussek, clementi, himmel, hummel, c.m.v. weber, beethoven, &c.,--who has not heard all about them? after them, comes the period of "piano fury," and the compositions appropriate for it. now the three trifles required are _distorted_ taste, _hypocritical_ feeling, and a _depraved_ ear, combined with the necessary superficiality and some power of production. _voilà tout!_ after that, musicians bethink themselves once more of the genuine three trifles, and return to reason, and we are allowed to take delight in chopin, mendelssohn, fr. schubert, robert schumann, and a few others of the same sort, and again in beethoven. these were succeeded by mere dry imitators; they were not, however, of much significance. finally, the very latest progress introduces a still more extravagant piano fury. the three trifles are now _distorted_ taste, _no_ feeling, and _no_ ear for tone; and with these are required the necessary audacity, immeasurable vanity, senseless exhibitions of strength, a poor touch upon the piano, and what they call "intellect." the compositions are now embellished with appropriate pictures on the cover, and with attractive title-pages. in addition, there is much talk about a "higher beauty," "the stand-points which have been already surmounted," "artistic flights," and the "misunderstanding of the inner consciousness," "genius must be free," &c. my old conservative friend, you are seen through. your influence, and more especially your ideas about singing, belong only to a past age. they date from the last century. you will be derided with your jenny lind and henrietta sontag. they are lifeless images of singers, to be kept in a glass case. are you willing to remain ignorant of the magnificent modern style of voice? can you not go forward with the advancing age? progressive philosophers will rap you over the knuckles. you imagine that our times will stop for a couple of lectures! you will yet have to learn what "intellect" signifies. in short, i should not like to stand in your shoes. you should conclude your book with "pater, peccavi." even in misfortune, your sympathizing friend, _v.e._ transcriber's note music notation in this ebook is rendered using scientific pitch notation, in which, for example, middle c is rendered as c , c below middle c is rendered as c , and c above middle c is rendered as c , etc. for more information on this notation method, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/scientific_pitch_notation the voice its production, care and preservation _by_ frank e. miller, m. d. _with a note by_ gustav kobbÉ _sixth edition_ new york: g. schirmer boston: boston music co. copyright, by g. schirmer note dr. frank e. miller, the author of this book, is one of the leading new york specialists on throat, nose and ear. he numbers many singers among his patients and is physician to the manhattan opera house, mr. oscar hammerstein's company. to expert knowledge of the physiology of the vocal organs he adds practical experience as a vocalist. before and during his student years he was a singer and held, among other positions, that of tenor in one of the large new york churches. this experience has been of great value to him in his practice among singers. he understands them temperamentally as well as physically. moreover, it has led him, in writing this book, to consider questions of temperament as well as principles of physiology. great as is the importance that he attaches to a correct physiological method of voice-production, he makes full allowance for what may be called the psychological factors involved therein--mentality, artistic temperament, correct concept on the part of the singer of the pitch and quality of the tone to be produced, etc. above all, dr. miller, while convinced that the tones of the vocal scale require, for their correct emission, subtly corresponding changes of adjustment in the vocal organs, utterly rejects anything like a deliberate or conscious attempt on the singer's part to bring about these adjustments. he holds that they should occur automatically (or subconsciously) as the result, in very rare instances, of supreme natural gifts, in others as a spontaneous sequence to properly developed artistry. in fact, while based on accurate scientific knowledge, dr. miller's book also is the outcome of long observation and experience, so that it might well be entitled "the common sense of singing." gustav kobbÉ. contents page note v chapter i. a rational vocal method chapter ii. the choice of a teacher chapter iii. on breathing: inspiration chapter iv. on breathing: expiration chapter v. the physiology and psychology of voice-production chapter vi. pitch and sympathetic vibration chapter vii. registers of the voice chapter viii. subdivisions of the voice chapter ix. the stroke of the glottis chapter x. hygiene of the voice chapter xi. more vocal hygiene chapter xii. nodes and their cure [illustration: fig. . the throat and adjoining structures , larynx. , epiglottis. , lower pharynx. , lips. , teeth. , tongue. , mouth (oral cavity). , uvula and soft palate. , hard palate. , upper pharynx. , nasal cavities. , nose. a, arytenoid cartilage. c, cricoid cartilage. t, thyroid cartilage. w, windpipe. x, adam's apple.] chapter i a rational vocal method song, so far as voice-production is concerned, is the result of physiological action, and as voice-production is the basis of all song, it follows that a singing method, to be correct, must be based on the correct physiological use of the vocal organs. the physiology of voice-production lies, therefore, at the very foundation of artistic singing. the proper physiological basis for a singing method having been laid, something else, something highly important, remains to be superimposed. voice is physical. but everything that colors voice, charging it with emotion, giving it its peculiar quality and making it different from other voices, is largely, although not wholly, the result of a psychical control--a control not exercised mysteriously from without, like svengali's over trilby, but by the singer himself from within. every singer is his own mesmerist, or he has mistaken his vocation. for while voice is a physical manifestation, its "atmosphere," its emotional thrill and charm, is a psychical one--the result of the individual's thought and feeling, acting unconsciously or, better still, subconsciously, on that physical thing, the voice. between the two, however, between mind and body, there lies, like a borderland of fancy, yet most real, the nervous system, crossed and recrossed by the most delicate, the most sensitive filaments ever spun, filaments that touch, caress, or permeate each and every muscle concerned in voice-production, calling them into play with the rapidity of mental telegraphy. over this network of nerves the mind, or--if you prefer to call it so--the artistic sense, sends its messages, and it is the nerves and muscles working in harmony that results in a correct production of the voice. so important, indeed, is the coöperation of the nervous system, that it is a question whether the whole psychology of song may not be referred to it--whether the degree of emotional thrill, in different voices, may not be the result of greater or less sensitiveness in the nervous system of different singers. this might explain why some very beautiful voices lack emotional quality. in such singers the physical action of the vocal organs and of all the resonance cavities of the head may be perfect, but the nerves are not sufficiently sensitive to the emotion which the song is intended to express, and so fail to carry it to the voice. immense progress has been made in anatomical research, and in no other branch more than in the study of the throat and of the larynx, which is the voice-box of the human body. there also has been a great advance in the study of metaphysics. it would seem high time, therefore, that both the results of modern anatomical study and the deductions of advanced psychological research, should be recognized in the use of that subtle and beautiful thing, the human voice, which in its ultimate quality is a combination of physiological and psychological phenomena--the physical, voice-producing organs acting within and for themselves, but also being acted upon by a series of suggestive impulses from the mind and soul, countless in number and variety. indeed, one might say that while in singing the vocal organs are the first essential, they must, in order to achieve their full effect, be in tune with the infinite. artistic singing involves complete physiological control of the voice-producing function, combined with complete command of the metaphysical resources of art. thus only can voice be produced with that apparent spontaneity which we call artistic, and at the same time be charged with the emotional quality which gives it individual significance. these two factors of voice-production, the physical and the psychical, should be recognized both by the teacher and by the student in striving to develop the voice, and by the physician who seeks to restore an impaired voice to its pristine quality. the substitution by teachers of various methods, originated by themselves, for the natural physiological method to which the vocal organs become self-adjusted and for the correct processes of auto-suggestion originating within the well-taught singer himself, is the cause of most ruined voices. the physician who realizes this will, in treating an impaired voice, know how to maintain the proper balance between the two factors--between medicine and surgery on the one hand and considerations of temperament and mentality on the other. there have been written books on voice-method of which "be natural" is the slogan; books on the physiology of voice-production, in which, as far as the singer is concerned, too much importance is attached to the results of laryngoscopic examination; and books on the psychology of voice-production in which the other factors are wholly neglected. none of these three varieties of book, however, covers the ground, but each only a part of it. the three--nature, physiology and psychology--must be combined in any book that professes to offer a synthetic method of voice-production. it is possible that knowledge of the structure of the vocal organs is of more importance to the physician and to the teacher than to the singer himself, and that too constant thought of them might distract the latter's attention from the product to the machine, from the quality of voice to be produced to the vocal apparatus producing it. nevertheless, some knowledge of the organs which he brings into play in singing cannot fail to be helpful to the vocalist himself, and surely their importance to the teacher of singing and to the physician who has an impaired voice to restore cannot be overestimated. correct teaching, in fact, directs the mind to the end, and by taking into account the physical parts concerned in singing, imparts to them the habit of unconsciously obeying natural laws. singing may not be a question of how a distorted throat looks in an oblique mirror, yet the knowledge that, because a note is faultily produced, the throat must be distorted, and how, will be of great service to the teacher who wishes to correct the fault, and indispensable to the physician who wishes to eradicate the results of a bad method. the very first principle of a vocal method should be, to establish so correct a use of the vocal organs that nature in this respect becomes second nature. for correct action of the voice-organs can develop into a habit so perfectly acquired that the singer acts upon it automatically; and the most disastrous result of poor teaching is that a bad habit also becomes second nature and is almost impossible to eradicate. there seems to be no question but that the old italian masters of singing, whether knowingly or unknowingly, taught according to correct physiological principles, and that, because of a neglect of these principles since then, while there has been a general advance in everything else, the art of voice-production actually has retrograded. for not only did the old italian masters understand the voice in its physical aspects; they also insisted, because they understood it so well, on a course of voice-training which lasted long enough to give the pupil complete ease and entire control of technic. the story of the famous master, porpora, and his equally famous pupil, caffarelli, is worth recalling. on a single sheet of music paper porpora wrote all the feats of which the voice is capable, and from that one sheet caffarelli studied with him five, some say six years. then the great master dismissed him with these words: "go, my son, i have nothing more to teach you; you are the greatest singer in italy and in the world." in our own hurried days the teacher is only too apt, after a few months, or even after only a few weeks, to say: "go, my dear. you know _enough_. you are pretty to look at, and you'll make a hit!" for, curiously enough, while the student of the pianoforte or the violin still will devote years to acquiring perfection upon it, a person who thinks himself gifted with a voice expects to become a singer with a year or two of instruction, possibly even after studying only a few months. yet the apparatus concerned in voice-production is a most delicate one, and, being easily ruined when incorrectly used, haste in learning how to use it not only is absurd but criminal--voice-murder, in fact. it has been said that one error of the old italian method was that it concerned itself only with beautiful tone-production, whereas real singing is the vitalization of words by emotion. but the vitalization of words by emotion may well follow upon beautiful tone-production and, though in the case of the old italians this undoubtedly was aided by the smoothly flowing quality of the italian language, a singer, properly taught, should be able to sing beautifully in any tongue. besides haste, one great danger to-day to the art of singing, and especially to the art of beautiful tone-production, which lies at the root of all beautiful singing, is the modern worship of individualism, of the ability of a person simply to do things differently from some one else, instead of more artistically, so that we are beginning to attach more importance to whims and personality than to observance of the canons of true art. it is only when the individual has supreme intelligence, that any such disregard of what constitutes true art should be tolerated. henry irving, for example, was extraordinarily effective in certain rôles, while in others his acting was atrocious. but even in these latter there was intellect behind what he did, and the spectator became so interested in observing his manner of striving for an effect, that he forgave him for falling short of what he strove for. but this is a very exceptional and a very dangerous kind of precedent. art ever is more honored in the observance than in the breach. yet its breach often is honored by modern audiences, and especially operatic audiences, because they tend to rate temperament too high and art too low, and to tolerate singers whose voice-production is atrocious, simply because their temperament or personality interests them. take a case in point: the croatian prima donna, milka ternina, whose art ranges from tosca to isolde, sings (in "tosca") the invocation to the virgin which precedes the killing of scarpia, with a wealth of voice combined with a power of dramatic expression that simply is overwhelming; and she acts the scene of the killing with sufficient realism to raise her entire performance to the highest level of vocal dramatic art. an italian prima donna who has been heard in the same rôle at the same opera house sings the invocation wretchedly, but acts the following scene, the killing of scarpia, with startling realism. she wins applause for her performance, as much applause as the other, which shows that an operatic audience will not only tolerate, but even applaud a singer who substitutes physical attractions, temperament and a peculiar wriggle of the spinal column for beautiful voice and correct method. we all possess voice-mechanism, and possibly there is no other physical apparatus that is misused so much. americans misuse it even in speech; yet what a valuable possession is an agreeable and pleasant speaking-voice. this abuse of the vocal organs by the great majority of americans makes the establishment of a correct method of voice-production in this country all the more desirable. yet, what do we find here? almost any charlatan can set up as a singing-teacher, and this despite the fact that the voice-mechanism is a most delicate and subtle structure, and that a slight physical disturbance or wrong use of it seriously affects the quality of the voice produced. had i not been a singer before i became a physician, i might not realize the part that nature, properly guided, plays in the use of the voice. had i remained a singer and not become a physician, i might not realize how important an aid in properly guiding nature in the use of the voice is a scientific knowledge of the action of the voice-producing organs. had i not been a singer and were not now a physician, i might not realize the influence upon the artist's physical well-being, and especially upon that delicate apparatus, the voice-mechanism, of temperament, mental condition and other purely metaphysical factors. this book, then, while it believes in consulting nature, does not believe in that "natural" method which simply tells you to stand up and sing; nor does it believe in that physiological method which instructs you to plant yourself in front of a mirror and examine your throat with a laryngoscope; nor in advising you to follow minutely the publications of the society for psychological research. it believes in a synthetic coördination of the three. in my practice i have become convinced that every impairment of the voice is due to outraged nature, resulting in a physiological condition of the vocal organs that should not exist, and, in turn, inducing a psychological condition, such as worry and despondency, which also should not exist. by discovering with the aid of the laryngoscope the physiological defect and removing it, body, and, with it, mind and voice are restored to their proper condition. but if the singer goes back to a teacher whose method is wrong, the same impairment, or even worse, will result. jean de reszke is a perfect example of how a singer can develop his voice when he turns from a wrong method to a right one. this celebrated tenor actually thought he was a baritone, and so did his teacher. he was trained as a baritone, made his début in a baritone rôle and sang as a baritone for several years. but he experienced great fatigue in singing, much greater fatigue than seemed proper or necessary. this led him eventually to have his voice tested by another teacher, who discovered that he was a tenor. singing with the wrong voice, which also means with a wrong method, had exhausted him. as a tenor his beautiful voice-production, based on a correct physiological method, made him equally at home and equally at ease in rôles making the most opposite demands upon his powers. he sang equally well in gounod and wagner; and in wagner, whether he was singing the young siegfried, siegfried of "götterdämmerung," or tristan. the proper coördination of all the parts of the physical vocal apparatus with the powers of mind and emotion, is what in the end constitutes the perfect singer, and that proper coördination has, as its first basis, a due regard for the physiology of voice-production as well, of course, as for the general rules of health. in gilbert and sullivan's "mikado," nanki poo, hearing a tomtit by the river reiterating a colorless "tit willow," asks the bird if its foolish song is due to a feeble mind or a careless diet. "is it weakness of intellect, birdie," i cried, "or a rather tough worm in your little inside?" but all that the dear little birdie replied, was, "willow, tit willow, tit willow." colloquially expressed, what mr. nanki poo asked the bird was as follows: "being gifted by nature with a perfect larynx, which should enable you to sing beautifully, do you confine yourself to singing a colorless 'tit willow' because you don't know any better, or because you are attempting to sing on top of an improperly selected meal?" in other words, he put violation of the laws of hygiene by a singer on a par with idiocy. thus, even from comic opera, in the performance of which most of the rules of vocal art are violated, one yet may gather certain truths--by listening to the words--provided the singers know enough to enunciate them distinctly. the physiology of voice-production not only offers a rational method, it also enables the student to guide his own development, to advance his physical welfare, and, because he knows the why and wherefore of things vocal, to perceive what is best in the performance of others and to profit by it. moreover, correct method of voice-production is in itself a health developer, and a singer who is taught by it often is able to overcome the disadvantages of a poor physique; while a singer, originally of strong physique, may find himself physically weakened by the use of a faulty method. as between a person who employs a beautiful voice artistically and a person who sings less beautifully, relying chiefly on interesting personality and temperament, instead of on correct method, the former singer usually long outlasts the latter. in other words, genuine vocal art is the crowning glory of a naturally beautiful voice. chapter ii the choice of a teacher further observations of a general character may be allowed to precede a more detailed consideration of method. some people wonder why a person who is gifted with voice simply can't get up and sing without any instruction. the reason is that voice is an instrument; a natural, human instrument, it is true, yet one in the use of which the fortunate possessor requires practice and training. the purpose of a singing-method is to produce a perfect coördination of all parts of the human voice-producing mechanism, an apparatus which is by no means simple but, in fact, rather intricate and complicated. it will be found, for example, that such a natural function of life as breathing has to be especially adapted to the requirements of the singing voice; that breathing such as suffices for the average person will not suffice for correct voice-production. again, in every voice certain notes are better than others, and a correct method of voice-production, while it may not be able to make every note in the range of voice of equal quality, brings the whole voice up to a more even standard of excellence. it leaves the best notes as good as ever and brings the notes which naturally are not so satisfactory, nearer the standard of the best. the great singers, in addition to natural aptitude, remain students throughout their careers. there are certain fundamental principles in a correct method of voice-production, for it is based upon study and knowledge of the organs concerned therein. but if the method were a hard-and-fast one, it would not be correct. for there are so many individual differences, physical and temperamental, between pupils, that there must be elasticity and adaptability in a method that claims to produce the best results. knowledge and experience should be combined in a teacher. garcia wrote a voice-manual; and tosi published a method as far back as . but a teacher who has bought a translation of the "traité complet de l'art de chant" by no means is a second garcia, nor has a teacher who chances to have read tosi's book a right to set himself up as an instructor of singing after the old italian method. the old italians, like tosi and porpora, were men of great practical experience in teaching, and they understood how to adapt method to individual needs. consciously or unconsciously, their method was physiological--the fundamental principles of the physiology of voice-production were there; but these great teachers knew that individual differences had to be allowed for and that a singing-method is not a shoemaker's last. sometimes, indeed, it is the pupil who makes the master. one of those born singers, man or woman, whom nature has endowed with superlative gifts and whom some unknown yet meritorious teacher, perhaps in america, has started aright, goes abroad and, after a while, comes forth, not made, but fortunately not marred, from a foreign vocal studio and enters upon a great career--and the foreign teacher's fame becomes international. the real foundation for that career may have been laid in an american city. but ambitious young americans, instead of seeking out that teacher, will flock to the foreign one. in such matters we are the most gullible people on the face of the earth. an italian, now dead, but in his day the most high-priced singing-teacher in london, used to devote the greater part of his lesson periods to telling his pupils how fond certain members of the english royal family were of him and to pointing out the souvenirs of their favor which he had displayed in his studio. yet, doubtless, his pupils thought that, all the while they were listening to his chatter, they were taking lessons in voice-production! americans dearly love a foreign name, and especially an italian one, when it comes to selecting a singing-teacher. but all is not gold that glitters, and the fact that a teacher writes "signor" before his name does not necessarily signify that he is italian, but often only that he would like people to believe he is, because there is a foolish belief that every italian teaches the old italian method. the famous mme. marchesi, in spite of her name, is not italian. she acquired it by marriage to salvatore marchesi, an italian baritone. before that she was fräulein mathilde graumann, a concert singer of frankfort-on-the-main; and sometimes i wonder whether, if she had remained fräulein mathilde graumann, she ever would have become the famous teacher she is. but marchesi she is, and famous; and i do not doubt justly so. yet even the pupils of so famous a teacher differ regarding the value of her method. thus melba never fails to sing her praises. on the other hand, emma eames, knowing that she was speaking for publication and that a stenographer was taking down her words, said: "mme. marchesi is a thoroughly good musician. any one who goes to her with an established voice can learn a great deal from her in the interpretation of many rôles. she is an admirable teacher of expression and of the general conception of a character. as a drillmaster she is altogether admirable. she teaches you the value of utilizing your time, and she makes you take a serious view of your work, which is important, for hardly an american girl who goes to her has an idea of studying seriously. she also is capital at languages. but when it comes to voice-development, i consider that she fails. my voice naturally was broad and heavy. after the end of the first two years' study with her i could not sing a without difficulty. she did not seem to know how to make my voice light. it was getting heavier and less flexible all the time." some years ago mme. marchesi's daughter, mme. blanche marchesi, appeared on the concert stage in new york. as the daughter and pupil from childhood of her famous mother, she was supposed to be an ideal exponent of the marchesi method. professional singers and instructors flocked to her first concert. it was to be an experience, an object-lesson. well--it was. they saw a fine-looking woman with a mediocre voice and a worse method, a method so hopelessly bad that even her undoubted musicianship could not atone for it. all this goes to prove that a method, to be elastic and adaptable, should be based on a knowledge of the physiology of the voice-producing organs, for such a method naturally adapts itself to physical differences in different individuals. without doubt mme. marchesi's method was admirably adapted to melba, but not to eames or to her own daughter. bear these circumstances in mind in selecting a teacher. the great singers are not always safe guides in the choice of a teacher, because their own superlative gifts and willingness to slave for the object of their ambition may have been as important factors in their success as the instruction they received. probably a singer of only fair natural gifts who yet has made a success--which shows that he must have been well taught--can give better advice as to the choice of an instructor than the great artist who owes so much to himself. moreover, great artists who have studied with the same teacher will, like melba and eames, differ in their estimate of that teacher. there is, however, one great singer, lillian nordica, who knows to whom to give credit for that skill in voice-production which enables her to sing valentine, aida and isolde with equal success. the foundation for her career was laid in this country. afterward she studied with mme. maretzek and in milan with san giovanni, but only interpretation. her voice-production she acquired not from madame this or signor that, but from plain john o'neill, of boston, "a scholarly man who had made a profound study of the physiology of the voice," and she took good care not to allow any other teacher, however "famous," to undo the work of the man who had taught her voice-production based on correct knowledge of the physiology of the voice-producing organs. this matter of choosing a teacher is, of course, of the greatest importance, but it barely can be touched on in this book. the selection should be made most cautiously, but, once made, the pupil's parents should not go to the teacher a few weeks later and ask, "why don't you give clara some 'pieces'?" they should recall the story of porpora and caffarelli which i related in the previous chapter. "pieces" are not in order until the voice is prepared for them, and the teacher is the best judge of that. a voice trained on "pieces" soon goes to pieces. another mistaken idea is that "any teacher is good enough for a beginner," whereas the beginning is the very time that the foundation of right method or wrong method is laid. classifying the voice is, of itself, of great importance. remember that jean de reszke's first teacher thought he was a baritone and that he sang as a baritone in opera for five years before a more competent teacher discovered that he was really a tenor. some voices are so near the dividing line that it requires wide experience and a fine ear for quality on the part of a teacher to determine in what direction they should be developed to greatest advantage. a fine ear may determine that the seeming mezzo is a true soprano, that the notes of the pupil who comes as a baritone have the tenor quality and that his scale safely can be added to, while the would-be tenor has the baritone timbre which will prevent his notes from ever ringing out with the true tenor quality. yes, this initial task of voice classification is far too important to be entrusted to "any teacher." there are piano-thumping teachers of voice, who not having voices themselves are obliged to give their pupils the pitch of each note by pounding it out on the pianoforte. voice quality has nothing in common with pianoforte quality of tone, yet constant thumping of the pianoforte by a singing-teacher in order to give the pupil the pitch, is apt to mix pianoforte color into a pupil's voice and mar its translucent vocal quality. a teacher need not be a fine singer--few vocal teachers are--but, at least, he should be able to give pitch vocally and to suggest with sufficient definition the quality of tone the pupil is to produce. at what age should singing-lessons begin? some say the earlier the better. others hold that, under no circumstances, should a boy or girl be taught to sing before the age of puberty, before the voice has mutated. those who believe that singing can be taught in childhood and safely continued even during the critical period of mutation, point out that the muscles of the voice-producing organs are most flexible and adapt themselves most easily to the task in hand during childhood and that the process of training them had best begin then, and that, with proper care, the lessons can be continued during the period of mutation. my own opinion is that this period is so critical and proper care is so apt _not_ to be taken, that the safest rule is not to begin singing-lessons until the adult voice undisputably has arrived. so many voices have been ruined by lack of care during mutation that it is better no risk should be taken. but why not, it may be asked, have the child taught and, when the period of mutation arrives, have the lessons suspended? there would be no harm in this, excepting that here again is run the risk that proper care will not be taken to stop soon enough and that the career of a possibly fine singer may be ruined. it has happened again and again that voices have been lost irretrievably or impaired permanently by careless use of them during the change from youth to manhood. therefore, and also because the muscles remain limber and flexible in young people for some years after they have arrived at puberty, i advise that singing-lessons should not begin until the period of mutation is well over. sir morell mackenzie, after stating that the doctrine long has been held universally that not only should systematic training be interrupted, but singing altogether forbidden during that critical period, nevertheless maintained that "_if due care is exercised_ there is no reason why the voice should not be used in singing during the transition period: but the training must be carried out _within certain limits and under strict supervision by a competent person_." but there is so much risk that due care will not be exercised, that those "certain limits" will be overstepped, that the "strict supervision" will be relaxed or not exercised by a "competent person," that i strongly advise not to begin lessons until the period of change is over. in this view i am supported by garcia, who took sharp issue with mackenzie. "my father," wrote garcia, "went through the transition time without ceasing to sing, and without having done himself the least harm. but both my sisters, mesdames malibran and viardot, were obliged to wait a year. i continued to sing, and my voice was ruined!" continuing, garcia says that the old rule which has preserved so many voices--that singing should cease altogether during mutation--should not be thrust aside on account of some rare exceptions, and young singers be handed over to the "doubtful caprice of ignorant or careless teachers." a person might with "due care" and "strict supervision" live in a plague-stricken city without contracting the disease, but one would not recommend his going there for his health. why deliberately expose the voice to danger of loss or permanent impairment by advising that it can be used with safety during the period of transition? far better to be on the safe side, wait until manhood or womanhood is definitely established, and then begin lessons as soon as possible. chapter iii on breathing: inspiration we speak of the breath of life; and breath is the life of song. beautiful singing is predicated upon correct methods of breathing, without which, though there be a perfect larynx and perfectly formed resonance chambers above, the result will be unsatisfactory. breathing, in fact, is the foundation of the art of singing. breathing consists of taking air into the lungs and expelling it again, or as the physiologist would say, respiration consists of inspiration and expiration. although they are essentially different actions, the laws governing each frequently have been confused by teachers of voice-culture. there are books in which the singer is told to breathe naturally, and this direction is harped on and extolled for its simplicity. surely no rule could be more simple; and, so far as simplicity goes, it is admirable. so far also as it casts doubt upon various breathing-methods which teachers of singing put forth as their own individual and pet devices, without which, they claim, aspirants for the concert and operatic stage would be hopelessly lost, this direction serves a useful purpose. the trouble with it is, however, that it is too simple. it does not go far enough. it leaves too much to the individual. for obviously there will be, if not as many, certainly nearly as many opinions among as many different people as to what constitutes natural breathing; and a person may have become so habituated to a faulty method of breathing that he believes it natural, although it is not. correct breathing, although a function of the body, also is an art. the method of a singer to be correct should be based on artistic, not merely on natural, breathing. for while all artistic breathing is natural, it does not follow that all natural breathing is artistic. therefore, the first direction to a singer should be, breathe artistically, with some definition of what constitutes artistic breathing. could the singer be relied on to breathe as naturally and unconsciously as in normal slumber, when the body is in a state of calm, nearly everything that has been written on the art of singing could be dispensed with. that, practically, is what the direction to breathe naturally amounts to. for such breathing is both natural and artistic. unfortunately, however, a singer is not a somnambulist, and when he faces his teacher, or a large audience, he not only is not in that deliciously unconscious state induced by normal slumber, but he is very much awake, with the added tension caused by nervousness and excitement. he is conscious, self-conscious in the artistic sense, unless he has been trained to appear otherwise. for, in the final analysis, that lack of self-consciousness, that ease and spontaneity which we associate with the highest art, is, save in the case of a few superlatively gifted individuals, the result of method and training. therefore, the direction to breathe naturally is begging the question. it states a result, without explaining how it is to be acquired. once acquired, method is merged into habit and habit into seeming instinct--that is to say, it becomes method, responding so spontaneously to the slightest suggestion of the will, that only the perfected result of it is apparent to the listener. under such favorable conditions created by a correct method of instruction, the nervousness inseparable from a début, and in many singers never wholly overcome even after frequent public appearances, is disguised by an assumption of calm, into which the poise and aspect of a trained singer naturally fall. all this is much facilitated by the fundamental acquisition of correct breathing. this correct breathing, which is the artistic respiration of the accomplished singer, is based upon physiological laws which can be described, prescribed and practised. when salvatore marchesi, the husband of mathilde marchesi, and himself a famous singer, said that prepared or instructed mechanical effort to get more breath results in less, he said what is true only if the instruction is wrong. his dictum, if accepted unreservedly, would leave the door open to all kinds of "natural," haphazard and go-as-you-please methods of breathing, the "simplicity" of which consists in simply being incorrect. the physiology of breathing is an exact science, and the singer who is taught its laws and obeys them, will acquire in due time the habit of artistic respiration. it is that breathing that is as natural and unconscious as in normal slumber, so _natural_ in fact that it has to be acquired through correct instruction, because most men and women are unnatural or have taken on habits that are unnatural. taking in the breath, the function of inspiration, results in a readjustment of certain organs which become disadjusted by the act of expiration or outbreathing. in general it may be said that the singer should breathe with the least possible disadjustment, so that only the least possible readjustment will be needed and the effort of breathing be minimized. nature herself is economical, and the singer should economize the resources of breath. to breathe easily and without a waste of energy is essential to the best art, and gives a feeling to the listener that the singer, whose work he has enjoyed, has even more in reserve than he has given out. that sense of reserve force is one of the greatest triumphs of art. it is largely the result of effortless breathing, in which it is not necessary or even desirable that the singer always should strive to fill the lungs to the utmost, since that induces an obvious effort which diminishes the listener's enjoyment. moreover, effort goes against the economy of nature. by keeping this in mind and by the use of correct methods, the singer will be able, in time, to gauge the amount of breath he requires for the tone he is about to produce or the phrase he is about to deliver, and the natural demand of the lungs will become his guide. it is essential to correct breathing that the organs of the tract through which the breath passes in and out should at least be known. they include the mouth, nose, larynx, trachea (or windpipe), the bronchial tubes and the lungs. a narrow slit in the larynx, called the glottis, and where the vocal cords are located, leads into the windpipe, a pliable tube composed of a series of rings of gristly or cartilaginous substance. the bronchial tubes are tree-like branches of the windpipe, and extend to the lungs, which are extremely elastic and, upon being filled with air, become inflated and expand somewhat like a balloon. it is necessary that in taking in breath and expelling it, this natural apparatus should be under the singer's control and that no undue force should be exerted upon the whole or upon any part of it, since this would result in its physical impairment and a corresponding impairment in production and quality of voice. it cannot be emphasized too often that the scientific method of voice-production based on the study of the physiology of the vocal tract is not a fad; as is proved by the fact that every violation of physical law affecting the vocal tract results in injury to it and in the same proportion affects the efficiency of the voice. before considering various methods of breathing it should be said that, irrespective of these, air should, whenever it is possible to do so, be taken into the lungs through the nostrils and not through the mouth. true, there are times in singing when breath has to be taken so rapidly that mouth-breathing is a necessity, as otherwise the inspiration would not be rapid enough. but to inspire through the nostrils, whenever feasible, is a law not alone for the singer, but a fundamental law of health. in the passage from the mouth to the lungs there is no provision for sifting the air, for freeing it from foreign matter, or for warming it if it is too cold; whereas the nostrils appear to have been designed for this very purpose. their narrow and winding channels are covered with bristly hairs which filter or sift and arrest the dust and other impurities in the air; and in the channels of the nostrils and back of them the air is warmed or sufficiently tempered before it reaches the lungs. moreover it can be felt that the lungs fill more readily when air is taken in through the nostrils than when inspiration takes place through the mouth. that breath should be taken in through the nostrils is, like all rules in the correct physiology of voice-production, deduced from incontrovertible physical facts. it is, moreover, preventive of many affections of the lungs, bronchial tubes and throat. three methods of breathing usually are recognized in books on singing--but there should be only one. for only one method is correct and that really is a combination of the three. these three are called, respectively, clavicular, abdominal or diaphragmatic, and costal; clavicular, because it employs a forced movement of the clavicle or collar-bone accompanied by a perceptible raising of the shoulder-blades; abdominal or diaphragmatic, because breathing by this method involves an effort of the diaphragm and of the abdominal muscles; and costal, which consists of an elastic expansion and gentle contraction of the ribs, the term "costal" signifying "pertaining to the ribs." let me say right here, subject to further explanation, that neither of these methods by itself is complete for voice-production and that the correct method of breathing consists of a combination of the three, with the costal, or rib-expansion method, predominating. for of the three methods mentioned the expansion of the ribs creates the largest chest-cavity, within which the lungs will have room to become inflated, so that more air can be drawn into them by this method than by either of the others. but a still larger cavity can be created and a still greater intake of air into the lungs be provided for, if, simultaneously as the ribs are expanded, the diaphragm, the large muscle separating the cavity of the chest from that of the abdomen, is allowed to descend and the clavicle is slightly raised, the final act in this correct method of breathing being a slight drawing in of the lower wall of the abdomen. ignoring the slight raising of the clavicle, this method may be called the mixed costal and diaphragmatic, for it consists mainly in expanding the ribs and in allowing the dome-shaped top of the diaphragm to descend toward the abdomen. it calls into play all the muscles that control respiration and their coöperative nerves, provides the largest possible space for the expansion of the lungs, and is complete in its results, whereas each of the three methods of which it is a combination is only partial and therefore incomplete in result. in the method of breathing called clavicular, the hoisting of the shoulder-blades is an upward perpendicular effort which is both ugly to look at and disagreeable in its results. for in art no effort, as such, should be perceptible. moreover, as in all errors of method in voice-teaching, there is a precise physiological reason why clavicular breathing is incorrect. correct breathing results, with each intake of breath, in as great an enlargement of the chest-cavity as is necessary to make room for the expansion of the lungs when inflated. but as clavicular breathing acts only on the upper ribs, it causes only the upper part of the chest to expand, and so actually circumscribes the space within which and the extent to which the lungs can be inflated. it is an effort to expand the chest that is only partially successful, therefore only partially effective. in fact, clavicular, or high breathing, requires a great effort to supply only a small amount of air; and this not only necessitates a frequent repetition of an unsightly effort, but, in consequence, weakens the singer's control over his voice-mechanism, makes inspiration through the nostrils awkward and, when the air has to be renewed quickly, even impossible, obliging the singer to breathe in violently, pantingly, and with other disagreeable and distressing symptoms of effort, through the mouth. the correct method of breathing involves only what may be called the breathing-muscles, but it utilizes all of these, thus insuring complete and effectual action; whereas clavicular breathing secures only a partial coöperation of these muscles, and in the effort involved in raising the clavicle and shoulder-blades actually is obliged to call on muscles that simply are employed to lift the weight of the body, have nothing whatever to do with breathing and, from their position, are a hindrance rather than an aid to chest-expansion. a better name for the method of breathing that is called "abdominal" would be abominable. it is predicated upon an exaggerated idea of the force of the action required of the diaphragm, or midriff, the large dome-shaped muscle which separates the thoracic from the abdominal cavity, in other words, the cavity of the chest from the cavity of the stomach. it is true that some animals can get all the breath they require to maintain life by the action of the diaphragm alone, yet it is a mistake to predicate breathing, and especially inspiration, upon a more or less violent action of the diaphragm and the abdominal muscles. both diaphragm and the abdominal muscles are, indeed, used in breathing, but not to the forcible extent that would justify applying the term "diaphragmatic" or "abdominal" to the correct method of respiration. the abdominal style of breathing was advocated by the physiologist mandl, and it is said that soon afterward in the schools of singing which followed his theory most unusual devices were practised for the purpose of keeping the ribs in a fixed position and compelling the pupil to breathe by the action of the diaphragm and abdominal muscles only. thus, the pupil was compelled to sing while lying down on a mattress, sometimes with weights placed on his chest. in fact, masters are said even to have made a practice of seating themselves upon the chests of their pupils. gallows, with thongs and rings for binding the upper half of the body and keeping it rigid, corsets and a pillory, which enclosed the frame and held the ribs in a fixed position, were some of the apparatus used in teaching the art of singing based upon abdominal breathing. i have characterized clavicular breathing as an upward perpendicular force, ugly and only partially effective. abdominal or diaphragmatic breathing is a downward perpendicular force just as ugly and as ineffective, besides being positively harmful, the pressure of the diaphragm, if violently exerted, often being injurious to the organs of the body contained in the abdominal cavity and especially to the female organs of sex. yet unfortunately and only too often, this style of breathing is taught to women, because women, owing to corsets and tight lacing, incline to breathe too much with the upper chest (to employ clavicular or high breathing), which, however, does not justify teachers in going to the other extreme and, in order to overcome one faulty method, instructing their pupils in another that is faultier still and even physically harmful. a more nearly correct method of breathing is the costal--that is by expansion and contraction of the ribs. it enlarges the chest cavity more than does either the clavicular or the diaphragmatic method; but does not enlarge it to its full capacity. each method by itself alone, therefore, falls short of the complete result desired. with none of them are the lungs wholly filled with air, but only partly--the upper part and a portion of the central lungs in clavicular breathing, the lower part and a portion of the central lungs in diaphragmatic breathing, and the central and upper parts in costal breathing. the correct method combines the three--adds to the inflation of the central and upper parts of the lungs accomplished by costal breathing, the inflation of the lower part accomplished in diaphragmatic breathing and of the extreme upper part accomplished in clavicular breathing. in other words, the correct method inflates the whole of the lungs and creates a cavity large enough to accommodate them. it is mixed costal and diaphragmatic accompanied by a slight raising of the clavicle. as the air is taken into the lungs and the framework of the ribs expands, the dome of the diaphragm, naturally, and as if voluntarily, descends and, at first, the walls of the abdomen extend or are pushed outward. the clavicle is slightly, one might say passively, raised and, finally, the lower part of the anterior abdominal wall is slightly drawn in, thus forming a support or foundation for the lungs and at the same time putting the abdominal muscles in position for participation in the work of expelling breath. this is the most natural and, from the standpoint of physiology, the most effective method of inspiration. for it creates the largest possible cavity in which the lungs can expand. the description of it may sound complicated, but the act of inspiration itself is not. if attention is concentrated upon expanding the entire framework of the ribs the rest seems to follow in natural sequence. as the framework of the chest expands, the movement of the ribs is outward and at the same time sidewise and upwards. this expansion of the chest naturally enlarges the cavity behind it, and the lungs themselves find more space in which to expand. this triple movement of the ribs, especially in the combined outward and upward direction, the latter at right angles to the spine, causes a great enlargement of the chest-cavity and gives the lungs a great amount of space in which to expand. combined with the sinking of the diaphragm, which still further adds to the space, and a slight raising of the clavicle which assists the expansion of the upper portion of the lungs, it constitutes the correct method of breathing. it is mixed costal and diaphragmatic--effected by the ribs, with the _assistance_ of the diaphragm and the abdominal muscles, but very different from the method of breathing predicated upon so violent an effort of diaphragm and abdomen that it is called "diaphragmatic" or "abdominal" breathing, and very different also from pure "costal" breathing. patrons of opera and concert will have noticed that many great singers, when emitting the voice, incline the body slightly forward toward the audience, as if feeling more assured that their voices would carry to the listeners, or as if striving to get upon a more intimate footing with them. this forward poise of the body, however, is a natural and physiological aid to a correct method of singing. i have stated that the upward and outward movement of the ribs greatly enlarges the chest-cavity, and with this slight forward poise of the body it is not necessary for the ribs to move all the way upward to the natural horizontal position in order to stand at right angles to the spine. in other words, the forward poise of the body eliminates a portion of the movement involved in inspiration, the spine now taking part and doing its share. this can readily be tested by holding the back straight or rigidly upright and taking a full breath by lifting the chest. the physical effort will be found much greater than when the body is slightly poised forward, and if the singer will gradually assume that poise and again fill his lungs with air, he will find that to do so requires less time and less strain. the forward poise of the body also favors many of the muscles employed in inspiration, because many of these extend upward and forward so that the forward inclination aids them in assisting the horizontal lifting of the ribs and the resultant enlargement of the chest-cavity. this assistance is greatly needed, for the singer sometimes is required within the brief space of a quarter of a second to expand the framework of the ribs sufficiently to take into the lungs from to cubic inches more of air than they previously held. this forward poise of the body is another illustration of the sound logic that lies in the application of physical laws to voice-production. for the forward poise which singers find so advantageous and which aids in the horizontal lifting of the ribs, also induces that gentle sinking in of the lower abdominal wall which is the final detail in the correct method of drawing in the breath and on which the old italian masters of bel canto insisted as an important factor in their methods. in considering the diaphragm and its part in costal or rib-breathing, care should be taken to make clear why it is that, while this muscle is a valuable aid to inspiration, its value would be impaired were it whipped into action like a conscript instead of being drafted, so to speak, as a volunteer. in breathing a singer is required to take in, on an average, from to cubic inches of air, and one of the purposes of artistic breathing is to provide room in the chest-cavity for the expansion of the lungs due to this intake. the natural, voluntary, and, i am tempted to say, _logical_ descent of the dome of the diaphragm in artistic breathing allows for cubic inches of the number required, and by no effort can it be forced down further to allow for more; or, to put the matter more correctly, the gain will be too insignificant to make the effort worth while. the gain of cubic inches, although, of course, highly important, seems slight when the size and shape of the diaphragm are considered. it would appear as if the descent of the dome would allow for a much greater displacement. but the discrepancy is accounted for by the fact that about two inches above its lower border the diaphragm is attached to the ribs so that only a partial displacement is possible, which shows the futility of the more or less violent effort involved in pure diaphragmatic or abdominal breathing. moreover, the hollow vein (vena cava) which leads the blood back to the heart, passes through the diaphragm, or, to be more exact, through its central tendon, and any violent action of the diaphragm in taking in breath tends to stretch this vein and, after a while, to create dizziness. i should be sorry if what i have said regarding the diaphragm were to be construed as belittling its importance as an aid to artistic breathing. my comments are directed against the exaggerated importance attached to it by advocates of wholly diaphragmatic or abdominal breathing, when it is capable of physiological demonstration that violent effort will accomplish no more with the diaphragm than that accommodating muscle accomplishes of its own accord when the singer, in taking in breath, correctly applies the principles of mixed costal and diaphragmatic respiration. in women only one-fifth and in men only one-sixth of the cavity needed for the inflation of the lungs can be made by sinking the diaphragm, the remaining four-fifths and five-sixths being created by the expansion of the ribs. therefore, the diaphragm would be obliged to move five or six times as far downward as the ribs move upward, in order to make room for the same amount of air. in other words, the ribs need only make about one-fifth or one-sixth as much effort as the diaphragm, and effort--conscious, noticeable effort--is one of the first things to be avoided in any art and especially in the art of singing. "if a full, pan-costal inspiration be taken after a complete expiration," writes dr. harry campbell in his "respiratory exercises in the treatment of disease," "no more air, or at all events only a small quantity, can be inhaled by means of the diaphragm." this, however, should be construed as meaning that, after the diaphragm has performed its correct function in inspiration, any further violent effort on its part is practically futile. for the term "full, pan-costal inspiration," substitute "mixed costal and diaphragmatic," which will imply that the diaphragm has done its duty by the singer--and it is that apparently effortless performance of its duty that gives it its real importance. the diaphragm really is a most courteous and accommodating muscle when its assistance is politely invited, but most obstreperous when one tries to force it into action. in proper breathing the feeling is as if the intake commenced with the upper ribs and terminated over the abdomen. we even feel, in taking in a deep breath, as if all our power were directed toward the four or five upper ribs and as if we were giving the greatest expansion to the very apex of the lungs; but the simple fact is that the six upper ribs encompass more space than the six lower ones, consequently in proper breathing the most movement is experienced where the cavity formed admits of the greatest expansion of the lungs. to say that no other style of breathing excepting that which has been described as correct, the mixed costal and diaphragmatic, ever should be employed, would be a mistake, but any other should be employed, when at all, only for rare and specific effects. for example, a tenor in reaching for a high note may find that the violent raising of the collarbone and shoulder-blades, which is involved in clavicular breathing, assists him at the critical moment, and he may, rightfully, perhaps, employ that method in that one great effort of an evening--remembering, however, that rubini actually broke his collarbone in delivering a very high note. tenors sometimes reach for their high notes with their arms and legs, and if the high note comes out all right, we forget the effort in the thrill over the result, provided effort does not degenerate into contortion. similarly in an unusually powerful, explosive _fortissimo_, a momentary use of pure abdominal breathing may be excusable. but these are exceptions that prove the rule, and very rare exceptions they should remain. in breathing, the correct method of inspiration is to provide the room required for the inflation of the lungs by enlarging the chest-cavity to its greatest possible extent, which is accomplished by expanding the whole framework of the ribs and allowing the diaphragm to descend, the clavicle rising passively while the wall of the abdomen at first extends and then, as to its lower anterior portion, slightly sinks in. sir morell mackenzie recognized that artistic inspiration is a combination of methods. "when costal or diaphragmatic breathing is spoken of," he writes in "hygiene of the vocal organs," "it must always be remembered that in the normal human body both methods are always used together, the one assisting and completing the other. the terms are in reality relative, and are, or should be, applied only as one or the other type predominates in an individual at a given time." the only trouble about applying these terms singly to genuinely artistic breathing is that, in the nomenclature of respiration, they signify methods that are only partial, whereas correct inspiration is mixed costal and diaphragmatic, with a touch of the clavicular added. such, then, is that "natural" method which also is artistic. it is based on sound physiological laws; and because these laws are, in turn, founded on fact, it is as efficient in practice as it is correct in theory. chapter iv on breathing: expiration air having been taken into the lungs, the act of exhaling it--the act of expiration--is, for ordinary purposes, a very simple matter. the elasticity of the parts of the body, the expansion of which made room for the inflation of the lungs, as these became filled with the air that was being drawn into them, permits the disadjustment to be readjusted almost automatically. elasticity implies that a body which has been expanded returns spontaneously to its normal size and position. thus with expiration the lungs return to their position of rest and the diaphragm and the walls of the abdomen follow them. this voluntary readjustment suffices for ordinary expiration. but the expiration of a singer should not be ordinary. it should be artistic. to begin with, while, whenever possible, air should be taken into the lungs through the nostrils, in singing it should always be expelled through the mouth. if part of the air-column is allowed to go out through the nose, there is danger of a nasal quality of tone-production. in ordinary breathing the emission of air immediately follows the intake; expiration begins the moment inspiration ceases, and the respiration is completed. the elasticity of the lungs causes the diaphragm to rise and the walls of the chest to return to their natural position. thus, in ordinary breathing, relaxation immediately follows the expansion, and almost as soon as the air is inhaled, it is expelled again. but as breath is the foundation of song, it is something not to be wasted, but to be husbanded to the utmost. for of what value to the singer is a correct method of taking in breath if all or part of the air passes out before the tone is produced? it is an income dissipated, a fortune squandered. the first step toward that breath-economy so essential in singing is to retain the breath a little while, to pause between inspiration and expiration. "pause and reflect," one might say. for that pause, physiologically so helpful, as will be shown, appears psychologically to warn the singer against wasting breath and so to manage it that breath and tone issue forth simultaneously, the tone borne along on a full current of air that carries it to the remotest part of hall or theatre. the pause before exhaling will be found by the singer a great aid in enabling him to maintain control of the outgoing column of air and to utilize it as he sees fit without wasting any portion of it. wilful waste makes woeful want in singing as in life. how long should the breath be retained before emission? there can be no hard and fast rule. it is a matter of circumstance entirely, and it certainly is detrimental to postpone the next inspiration to the last moment before the next note has to be intoned or the next phrase started. every opportune rest should be utilized for inspiration, and, if possible, the breath should be inhaled a second or two before the note or phrase to be sung, and the breath retained until the crucial moment. then breath and song together should float out in a steady stream. the result will be pure, full, resonant tone. a _pianissimo_ upon a full breath is like the _pianissimo_ of a hundred violins, which is a hundred times finer than that of a single instrument, and so rich in quality that it carries much further. it is the stage-whisper of music. this pause and the steadiness produced by it probably constitute what the old italian masters of singing had in mind when they laid down for their pupils the rule "filar il tuono" or "spin the tone," in other words, the practice of emitting the breath just sufficiently to produce a whisper and then convert it into a delicate and exquisite tone--a mere filament of music. even in rapid passages which succeed each other at very brief intervals and such as frequently occur in the italian arias, it is possible to replenish the breath in such a way that some pause, however brief, can be made between inspiration and expiration. watch melba singing the mad scene from _lucia_, tetrazzini, the shadow song from _dinorah_, or sembrich, the music of the queen of the night in the _magic flute_, and you will observe that they replenish the original intake of breath with half-breaths, a practice which enables them at every opportunity to make the required pause before breath-emission. moreover, it always allows of a reserve quantity of air being retained in the lungs. that sense of unwasted resource, the feeling so important to convey to the audience that, much as the singer has accomplished, the limit of his capacity has by no means been reached, and that, like a great commander, he has his forces well in hand, is holding back his reserves and does not expect to launch them into action at all, can be created only by perfect control of the air-column; and that control of breath is gained best by a pause, if only for a fraction of a second, between inspiration and expiration. moreover, holding the breath for a little while before expiration is conducive to good health, a condition, needless to say, which creates confidence and buoyancy in the singer and adds greatly to the efficiency of his voice and the effectiveness of his performance. proper breathing is a cleaning process for the interior of the body. it cleanses the residual air, the air that remains in the lungs after each respiration; and it does much more. air enters the lungs as oxygen; it comes out as carbonic acid, an impure gas created by the impurities of the body. the process of breathing dispatches the blood on a cleansing process through the whole body, and, while traveling through this, it collects all the poisonous gases and carries them back to the lungs to be emitted with expiration. by holding the breath we prolong this process, make it more thorough, and correspondingly free the body of more impurities. from the classic ages down physicians have advocated retaining the breath for a little while after inspiration as an aid to general health, and the taking and holding of a full breath has been compared with opening doors and windows of a house for ventilation. sir morell mackenzie emphasizes this purifying function of respiration in his book on the "hygiene of the vocal organs." it consists, as he says, essentially in an exchange of gases between the blood and the air, wherein the former yields up some of the waste matters of the system in the form of carbonic acid, receiving in return a fresh supply of oxygen. it is evident from this how important it is to have a sufficient supply of pure air, air which contains its due proportion of oxygen to renovate the blood. a room in which a number of people are sitting soon becomes close if the windows and doors are kept shut. this indicates that the oxygen in the air is exhausted, its place being taken by carbonic acid exhaled from the lungs of the assembly, so that the purification of the blood must necessarily become more and more imperfect. "besides their principal function of purifying the blood," writes sir morell mackenzie, "the lungs are the bellows of the vocal instrument. they propel a current of air up the windpipe to the narrow chink of the larynx, which throws the membranous edges or lips (vocal cords) of that organ into vibration, and thereby produces sound. through this small chink, the air escaping from the lungs is forced out gradually in a thin stream, which is compressed, so to speak, between the edges of the cords that form the opening, technically called the glottis, through which it passes. the arrangement is typical of the economical workmanship of nature. the widest possible entrance is prepared for the air which is taken into the lungs, as the freest ventilation of their whole mucous surface is necessary. when the air has been fully utilized for that purpose it is, if need be, put to a new use on its way out for the production of voice, and in that case it is carefully husbanded and allowed to escape in severely regulated measure, every particle of it being made to render its exact equivalent in force to work the vocal mill-wheel." thus again is illustrated the close analogy between vocal art and physical law, and further evidence given of the value of a physiological method of voice-production as opposed to those methods that are purely empirical. in fact when it is considered that speech is nature's method of communication and that song is speech vitalized by musical tone, it would seem as if song were nature's art and, therefore, more than any other based on nature's laws. no effort is involved in holding the breath. the pause before emission is accomplished without any internal muscular struggle, and without any constriction of the larynx. some writers lay down the rule that after inhaling, the singer should retain the breath by closing the vocal cords. the only objection to laying down this rule is that it is apt to make the pupil perform consciously an act that is so nearly voluntary as to be unconscious. it inclines the pupil to make an effort when effort is unnecessary. retain the breath and you can feel the vocal cords close in consequence, and as if of their own accord, and open again with the act of emission. it is all voluntary, or nearly so. in fact, artistic breathing becomes after a while a fixed habit and is performed unconsciously. in the early days of practice the pupil may be apt consciously to perform each of the successive acts comprised in artistic breathing. gradually, however, messages begin to travel so swiftly over the nerves which connect the will, mind, or artistic sense with the breathing-muscles that these seem to have become sensitive by anticipation to what is required of them and voluntarily to bring themselves into play. the most subtle filament ever spun still is less fine than the line which divides the physiology of voice-production from the psychology of song and, by crossing which, song, the art of nature, becomes second nature. the singer having after inspiration retained the air in his lungs for a brief space of time, also must maintain control of the stream of air when he begins to emit it. it should rise from the lungs through the bronchial tubes, the windpipe and the larynx into the mouth and flow out from between the lips like a river between smooth and even banks and bearing voice upon its current--a stream of melody. the more slowly, within reason, the singer allows his breath to flow out, the better; and this is as true of rapid phrases as of broad _cantabile_. breath should be emitted as slowly in a long, rapid phrase as in a slow phrase of the same length. it is only when rapid phrases succeed each other so quickly that there is no time between them for a deliberate, full inspiration, that half-breaths have to be taken to replenish the air-supply. but a singer who thinks that rapid singing also involves rapid breathing should rid himself of that mistaken notion as quickly as possible. a choirmaster once told me that he had trained his boys so perfectly in breath-control that they could sustain a note for thirty seconds on one breath. for them to sing on one breath a rapid phrase lasting just as long, would be equally feasible. it is the slow emission of breath that gives to long, rapid phrases a smooth and limpid quality; and it is the taking of breath at inopportune moments, as badly taught singers are obliged to do, that makes such phrases choppy and ineffectual. this fault is never observable in artists trained in the real traditional italian school of singing--not necessarily by italians, but in the traditional school of the old italian masters. the choppy method of singing is noticeable, not in all, but in many german singers. it is due to incomplete breath-control, for which in turn carelessness in matters of hygiene largely is responsible. the average german is of a naturally strong physique, and for this very reason he is less apt to take care of himself. the singer, in order to keep the keen, artistic edge on his voice, has to sacrifice many things that contribute to the comfort of the average man; and this is especially true of diet. a strict régime is a necessity. you will find that every great singer has to deny himself many things. but the german is apt to sneer at such precaution and to glory in what he calls "living naturally," which means that he thinks it is all right to eat and drink what he wants to and as much as he wants to. in point of fact, however, the great singer does not "live" at all. he _exists_ for his voice, sacrificing everything to it. his diet, his hours, are carefully regulated. he is always in training. the german is apt to neglect such matters. the inevitable result is shortness of breath and lack of control of breath-emission. voice is breath; lack of breath is lack of voice. i once attended a german performance of _die walküre_ with an italian master of _bel canto_. "you call that a love-scene!" he exclaimed during the latter part of the first act, between siegmund and sieglinde. "they are barking at each other like two dogs!" and so they were. the natural process of expiration is one of complete relaxation. just as the intake of air into the lungs inflates and expands them, so, when the intake ceases, the elasticity of the lungs exerts a natural pressure on the air they have taken in and causes its almost effortless exit. this exit, however, is so gentle as to be useless for the production of voice. for this reason the singer must control the breath and retard its exit, and the slower his expiration, the more control he will gain over the tone or phrase. those familiar with the performances of some of the great opera singers who have been heard here will have observed that, when singing, they do not allow the chest to collapse, but hold it as full and as firm as if the lungs still were inflated. this physical index to a correct method of expiration is more easily noticed in men than in women. the de reszkes, caruso, plançon--these have been some of the most notable exponents of correct voice-production who have appeared on the american operatic stage. let the reader, when next he hears caruso or plançon, note that they never strain after an effect, never labor, never grow red in the face, never employ excessive gesture to help force out a note. with them respiration consists of inspiration and expiration--never of perspiration. there is little danger that caruso ever will break his collar bone in producing high c, and his delivery of the romance, "una furtiva lagrima," in _l'elisir d'amore_, is a most exquisite example of breath-control and of voice-management in _cantabile_; while plançon's singing from a chest absolutely immobile, even in long and difficult phrases, is so effortless that his performances are a delight to every lover of the art of song, his voice flowing out in a broad, smooth stream of music. physically, the reason why an expanded chest retards the emptying of the lungs is apparent. the pressure of a relaxing chest would accelerate their return to a condition of repose and the breath would be expended too soon, with the result that some or much of it would be wasted. moreover, an expanded chest is a splendid resonance-chamber, affords a firm support to the windpipe and adds to the sure and vibrant quality of the tone produced. the wobble, which at times causes disappointment with voices that had seemed unusually fine, is the result of lack of attention to this detail of vocal method. the windpipe, requiring the support of a firm chest-wall, becomes unsteady, the singer loses his control of the air-column, and the vibrations of the vocal ligaments are uncertain, instead of tense and sure. to maintain the expanded chest during expiration, which also means during singing, is not difficult. there is nothing forced about it. for if there is the correct pause after inspiration, if the breath is held for a brief space of time, the pressure naturally exerted outward upon the upper chest is readily felt. accompanying it is a gradual drawing in of the lower abdominal wall, not forceful enough to be called stringent but simply following the return of the diaphragm to its natural position as the lungs return to theirs. therefore, when it is stated that if a _crescendo_ is to be produced on a single tone or phrase, this is accomplished by increasing the outward pressure on the chest and the inward and upward pressure of the abdominal muscles; there is no thought of prescribing a sudden and undue strain, but simply of employing more potently and more effectively certain forces of pressure which nature herself already has brought into play. what is perhaps the most important distinction of this method of breath-control and voice-management is the fact that it relieves the throat of all pressure, the correct tension and vibration of the vocal cords being brought about by the reflex action of muscles and nerves. this lack of strain on the throat does away with all danger of a throaty quality of voice-production, which not only is highly inartistic but also leads to various throat troubles. breath-control implies that no breath is wasted, that every particle of breath, as it comes out, is converted into voice. dissipation of breath results in uncertainty of voice-production, a branch of the subject which will be taken up in the chapter on "attack." an excellent test for economy of breath is to hold a lighted candle before the mouth while singing. if the flame flickers, breath is being wasted, is coming out as empty air instead of as voice. there is the same difference between voice produced on breath that is under the singer's control and that produced on breath which is not properly steadied, as there is between a line drawn straight and sure by a firm hand and a wavering line drawn by a hand that is nervous and trembling. in fact, in singing the waver of the voice that results from poor control of breath is a tremble, a _tremolo_, and is one of the worst faults in a singer. it also should be pointed out that the singer is not to continue an expiration beyond the point when it ceases to be easy for him to do so. as soon as the air-column becomes thin the singer's control over it becomes insecure, and, from that point on, the air that remains should be regarded simply as a reserve supply and aid to the next inspiration. to sum up: breathing consists of two separate actions, inspiration and expiration, the intake of air and its emission. of the three kinds of inspiration mentioned in most books on singing and termed clavicular, abdominal or diaphragmatic, and costal, neither completely fills the bill. the correct method of inspiration is a combination of all three. it is costal--that is indicated by an expansion of the whole framework of the ribs--assisted by an almost automatic sinking of the diaphragm and a very slight, almost passive, rising of the clavicle, the final detail being a slight sinking in of the lower front wall of the abdomen. in this method, although it is a combination of the three--the clavicular, the diaphragmatic and the costal--the clavicle plays so small a part, that the method may be termed mixed costal and diaphragmatic. the breath having been taken in, it should be held for a brief space of time. in expiration, allow the breath to escape very slowly. maintain the chest firm and expanded, and add, as occasion requires, to the natural inward and upward pressure of the abdominal muscles. avoid all throat effect. after expiration the chest and abdominal pressure is relaxed and the next inspiration prepared for. take in breath through the nostrils, emit it through the mouth. this latter instruction may seem superfluous, but it is not. in the so-called "backward production" of voice, considerable air escapes through the nasal passages and the tone-quality is nasal and disagreeable. it is of the highest importance to acquire a correct method of breathing, and to acquire it so thoroughly that it becomes second nature. in the beginning it may be necessary to bear each successive step in mind and make sure that it is not omitted. but very soon artistic breathing to sustain song becomes as much a habit as is breathing to sustain life. we breathe, or we cannot live; we breathe artistically, or we cannot sing. but to breathe artistically really is no great problem. it is a simple matter, yet fraught with great and invaluable results to the singer; and it is a simple matter because it becomes so easily a matter of habit. the nerves of the breathing-muscles send and receive messages to and from the nerve-centre, but after incredibly little practice this interchange of messages over the nervous system becomes so swift that it may be said to take place by anticipation, and the person who benefits by it is unaware that it takes place at all. correct breathing has then become a habit. this habit, this smooth working, automatic coöperation of nerves with breathing-muscles, may be thrown out of gear by something unusual, such as the excitement attending a début. the singer faces an audience or a strange audience for the first time, and the first unfavorable and disconcertive effect travels over the nerves to the respiratory organs. regular breathing is at such times one of the best ways to allay the undue excitement caused by the unusual surroundings. before beginning to sing the artist should, and on such occasions with conscious artistry, immediately reëstablish control of respiration by taking a few deep breaths. i have said before that the borderline between the physiology of voice-production and the psychology of song is a narrow one--whereof the above cure for stage-fright is but another case in point. chapter v the physiology and psychology of voice-production above this chapter i might well have placed the following lines which george eliot wrote above chapter xxxi. of "middlemarch." how will you know the pitch of that great bell, too large for you to stir? let but a flute play 'neath the fine-mixed metal! listen close till the right note flows forth, a silvery rill: then shall the huge bell tremble--then the mass with myriad waves concurrent shall respond in low, soft unison. the lines telling of the great bell stirred by the note of a flute played at the proper pitch suggest the moving power that lies in sympathetic vibration. the first time a military body crossed the brooklyn bridge, the spectators were surprised to hear the order given for the soldiers to march out of step. they had expected to be thrilled by the sight of a thousand men crossing the great structure in measured tread, with band playing and colors flying. they did not know that the structure, being a suspension bridge, might have been weakened and possibly destroyed by the force of rhythmic oscillation. yet the accumulated force in the tramp of a thousand men is no greater than that which lies in the sympathetic vibrations of a musical note. every metal structure has its note, and it is an old engineering saw that a huge structure like the brooklyn bridge eventually could be destroyed by the cumulative force of sympathetic vibration evoked by a musical instrument constantly reiterating the note of the bridge. sound has three dimensions: pitch, loudness and timbre. _pitch_ depends upon the _frequency_ of vibrations. the more rapid the vibrations, the higher the pitch. _loudness_ is determined by the _amplitude_ of the vibrations. as their length or "excursion" increases, so does the sound gain in loudness. conversely, the diminution in the size of vibrations causes corresponding decrease of loudness. differences in the _shapes_ of vibrations cause differences in quality or _timbre_. after voice has originated within the restricted limits of the larynx, its power, its carrying quality is much augmented by the sympathetic vibrations within the resonance cavities above the larynx. these include the pharynx, nasal passages, mouth, bone cavities of the face--in fact pretty much every hollow space in the head, every space that will resound in response to vibration and assist in multiplying it. moreover, the cavities of resonance by their differences in shape in different individuals determine the timbre or quality of individual voices. the chest, although situated below the larynx, is a resonance cavity of voice. in fact, in a certain register its vibration is felt so distinctly that we speak of these notes as being sung in the "chest register," which, so far as it implies that the tones are produced in the chest, is a misnomer. the same is true of "head register," in which vibration is felt in the head where, however, it is needless to say, the "head tones" do not originate. expiration--breath-emission--is the motor function of the vocal organs; and there are two other physical functions of the organs--vibratory and resonant. added to these is the sensory function, to which i attach great importance; and i call it a psychological function because it acts through the nerves upon the physical organs of voice. without it the three physical functions--motor, vibratory and resonant combined--would remain ineffectual. they could generate voice, but it would be voice lacking those higher qualities that are summed up in the word "artistic." it would be a physical, not an art product, a product generated by the body without the coöperation of the mind or soul. when it is considered that the larynx, in which the vocal cords are situated, is permeated by a network of muscles through which it is capable of some , adjustments and readjustments of shape, all of them pertinent to voice-production, and that the same thing also is true of the pliable portions of the resonance cavities; that these muscles act in response to an even finer network of nervous filament; and that the constant shaping and reshaping of various parts of the vocal tract during voice-emission is directed by messages from the mind, soul, or art-sense of the singer, messages which travel via nerve to muscle--the only route by which they can travel--it becomes possible to appreciate the importance of the sensory or psychological function which, i hold, should be added to the purely physical ones of motor, vibration and resonance. for by it these functions are enlisted in the service of art and made immediately and exquisitely responsive to the emotional exaltation of music and song. nor are these vague terms. psychology of song and psychological action in general may seem indefinite and unintelligible. they become, however, absolutely definite and intelligible when the part played by the nerves as intermediaries between mind and muscular action of a subtle and highly refined order is appreciated. the mind presses the button, the nerves carry the messages, and muscle acts instantaneously and responsively. the student need not despair because so many separate acts seem necessary to the production of even a single tone. it is true that air has to be taken into the lungs and emitted from them; that it must be controlled by the singer as it passes up the windpipe; that the vocal cords and other parts of the larynx must be given their specific adjustment for each note; and the cavities of resonance shaped in sympathetic coördination with those numerous adjustments, while the lips also have their function to perform. but it is equally true that correct instruction supplemented by assiduous practice merges all these separate acts into one. the singer thinks the note, forms what may be called a sounding vision of it in his mind, and straightway the vocal tract adapts and coördinates all its parts to the artistic emission of that note. it is auto-suggestion become habit through practice. because the larynx is so important a factor in generating voice, writers on voice-production have described it with much minuteness, and because of these minute descriptions readers may have obtained an exaggerated idea of the size of this organ. but one of the marvels of voice-production is the smallness of the organ in which voice is generated, the size of the average larynx being about two inches in height by an inch and a half in width. yet so numerous are the adjustments in shape of which this small organ is capable that the phenomenal soprano, mara, could make changes in pitch between any two notes in her voice, and as this had a compass of twenty-one notes, it follows that she could produce no less than , changes in pitch within a range of twenty-one notes. while in mara's day this no doubt was attributed to a natural gift of voice, modern study of voice-physiology and of the metaphysics of voice-production readily accounts for it. it needs an ear naturally or by training so delicately attuned to pitch that not only all the fundamental notes of a voice, but all the numerous overtones at infinitesimal intervals are heard in what may be called the singer's mental ear; that the nerves convey each of these sounding mental conceptions to the intricate system of muscles in the larynx and resonant cavities and that the right muscles immediately adjust the larynx and cavities of resonance to the shape they have to assume to sound the corresponding note. every vocal tone is, in fact, a mental concept reproduced as voice by the physical organs of voice-production, so that every vocal tone is, in its origin, a mental phenomenon. that is why an inaccurate ear for pitch results in a vocalist singing off pitch. his mental conception of the note is wrong, the message conveyed from the mind over the nerves to the muscles of the vocal organs is wrong, consequently they shape themselves for a note that is wrong, and, when the note issues from between the singer's lips, it is wrong--wrong from start to finish, from mind to lips. thus again is illustrated the intimate connection between psychology and physiology in voice-production, and the necessity of having every function concerned therein so thoroughly trained that every act from mental concept to sounding voice is correctly performed through a habit so thoroughly acquired that it has become second nature. in common parlance one might say to the student of song, "get the correct voice-habit and keep it up," for that really is what it amounts to, only it is necessary that great stress should be laid on the word "correct." it now becomes necessary to describe the larynx, and this i will endeavor to accomplish without puzzling the reader with too many technical terms. the study of the larynx was made possible by the invention of the laryngoscope in by manuel garcia, a celebrated singing-master. it is a simple apparatus--which, however, does not detract from but rather adds to its value as an invention--and has been a boon to the physician in locating and curing affections of the throat. its essentials are a small mirror fixed at an obtuse angle to a slender handle. introduced into the mouth it can be placed in such position that the larynx is reflected in the mirror and thus can be observed by the operator. those who have had their throats examined with the laryngoscope will recall that the operator wears a reflector over his right eye. through a central perforation in the reflector he views the image, which is seen the more clearly for the light thrown upon the laryngoscopal mirror by the reflector. it would be possible after comparatively little practice with the apparatus for a singer to examine his own larynx. but it would be most inadvisable for him to do so. either he soon would become "hipped" on the subject of innumerable imaginary throat troubles, or his voice-production would become mechanical, which is very different from the spontaneous adjustment of the vocal tract described above. [illustration: fig. . the glottis and vocal cords viewed from below n. b.--vocal cords approximated] [illustration: fig. . the glottis and vocal cords viewed from above , glottis. , true cords. , false cords. , epiglottis. , base of tongue. n. b.--glottis open for inspiration] [illustration: fig. . the glottis and vocal cords viewed from above , glottis. , true cords. , false cords. , epiglottis. , base of tongue. n. b.--vocal cords approximated] [illustration: fig. . vertical transverse section of the larynx , the glottis (_i. e._, the opening between the opposed edges of the vocal cords). , true vocal cords. , false vocal cords. , epiglottis. (n. b.--in singing, the "true cords" are closely approximated.) v, ventricles. t, thyroid cartilage. c, cricoid cartilage. w, windpipe or trachea. (n. b.--in straining, the "false cords" are closely approximated.)] the laryngoscope should not, in fact, leave the hands of the physician. invaluable for the detection of diseases of the throat which impair the voice and which have to be cured either by treatment or operation before the voice can be restored to its original potency or charm, its value in studying the physiology of voice-production and the functions of the vocal organs is doubtful. in fact, it is its use by amateur laryngoscopists that has resulted in the promulgation of all kinds of absurd theories of voice-study and in those innumerable pet methods of vocal instruction, each one of which may safely be guaranteed to destroy expeditiously whatever of voice originally existed. fascinating as it may seem to the singer to examine his own larynx while he is producing a vocal tone--"during phonation," the physiologist would say--the value of the deductions formed from such observation may be doubted, if for no other reason than that the introduction of the mirror into the back of the mouth makes the whole act of phonation strained and the effects observed unnatural. in fact, as mackenzie already has pointed out, although the laryngoscope is invaluable in the recognition and treatment of diseases which before only could be guessed at, "with the exception of certain points relating to the 'falsetto' register, it can scarcely be said to have thrown any new light on the mechanism of the voice." in other words, the instrument belongs in the hands of the physician, not in those of the singer. the larynx, as i already have stated, is a small organ, on an average two inches long and one and a half inch wide. the reader can form a good idea of its location by the adam's apple, which is its most forward projection at the top. from the singer's point of view the larynx exists for the sake of the vocal cords--in order that they may be acted upon by certain muscles and thus relaxed or tightened, lengthened or shortened, or by a combination of these states properly adjusted to the note that is to be produced. the vocal cords lie parallel to each other. the space between them (the opening through which the air from the windpipe passes up into the larynx) is called the glottis. with every loosening, tightening, lengthening or shortening of the vocal cords or other effect of muscular action upon them, the space between them--the glottis--alters in size and shape. these subtle changes in the size and shape of the glottis are, as i shall expect to show, of great importance in voice-production. they form the first step in the actual creation of voice. the numerous and subtle adjustments and readjustments in shape of which the larynx is capable could not be effected if its shell consisted of so hard and unyielding a substance as bone. consequently, it has to consist of a substance which, while sufficiently solid to form a background for the attachment of its numerous muscles, yet is sufficiently pliable to yield with a certain degree of elasticity to the action of these. nature therefore has built up the larynx with cartilage, or gristle, providing a framework made up of a series of cartilages, sufficiently joined to form a firm shell surrounding the muscular tissue, yet, being hinged as well as joined, capable of independent as well as of combined movement, and, withal, possessing the requisite degree of pliability to respond in whole or part to the extremely varied and often delicate action of the laryngeal muscles--muscles which indeed are required to be as practised and as sensitive to suggestion as if they were nerves. the principal cartilage of the larynx is the thyroid or shield cartilage, named from the greek _thureos_ (shield). it really consists of two shields joined along the edges in front (its most forward upper projection being the adam's apple) and opening out at the back. the thyroid is the uppermost cartilage of the larynx and the adam's apple is the uppermost portion of the front of the larynx. but as the shields open out back of the adam's apple, they slope upward and at the extreme back each shield has a marked upward prolongation like a horn. by these horns, enforced by membrane, the thyroid cartilage and through it the whole larynx is attached to and is suspended from the hyoid bone, or tongue-bone. this gives mobility to the larynx and freedom of movement to the neck; and the larynx, while mobile as a whole, furthermore is capable of an infinite number of muscular adjustments and readjustments within itself. at the back the lower edges of the thyroid rest upon the cricoid cartilage, which derives its name from the greek _krikos_, a signet-ring. this is next in size to the thyroid. the broader portion, the part which corresponds to the seal in a signet-ring, is at the back. attached at the back, the two cartilages do not, however, meet in front. place a finger on the adam's apple, slide it down a little way, and the slight depression there met with locates the front opening, covered with yielding membrane, between the thyroid and cricoid cartilages. on the broader part of the cricoid--that is, on the part in the back of the larynx--and rising inside the thyroid are two smaller cartilages, the arytenoid or ladle cartilages, named from the greek _arutaina_, a ladle. though smaller than either thyroid or cricoid, they are highly important, because they form points of attachment for the vocal cords. these (the vocal cords) are attached in front to the inner part of the angle formed by the two wings of the thyroid just back of the adam's apple, and behind to a forward projecting spur at the base of each of the arytenoid cartilages, which for this reason often are spoken of as the "vocal process." the vocal cords, as has been stated, lie parallel to each other, and the space between them is known as the glottis or chink of the glottis. above the glottis and on opposite sides are two pockets or ventricles, and above these are the so-called false cords or ventricular bands. the pockets are, in fact, bordered below by the vocal cords and above by the false cords. the false cords or ventricular bands (a name given to them by mackenzie) are the lower edges of membranous folds that form the upper entrance to the larynx. here are two pairs of small cartilages, the cartilages of santorini and the cartilages of wrisberg. usually they are dismissed as of little or no importance. yet they have, in connection with muscles located in that part of the larynx, their rôles to play in those numerous adjustments and readjustments which, as i shall show a little later on, are of the greatest importance in voice-generation. for i consider, as i also will show, that the numerous, indeed innumerable, and extremely subtle and exquisite changes of shape of which the larynx is capable within itself, have much to do with the actual creation of the tone which eventually issues from the lips; although i believe this statement to be contrary to all accepted authority. for the present, however, i must content myself with this mere statement. the larynx is protected above by a lid, a flexible, leaf-shaped cartilage, the epiglottis. the gullet, or food-passage to the stomach, is situated behind the larynx and windpipe, and the function of the epiglottis is to close the larynx and to act as a bridge over which food passes from the mouth into the gullet. but for the epiglottis, food might get into the larynx and thence into the windpipe every time we swallowed, with what distressing and even disastrous effect any one who has ever "swallowed the wrong way" well knows. when open, on the other hand, the epiglottis forms a beautifully smooth cartilaginous curve, over which the sounding air, the tone, as it issues from the larynx, is guided to the resonance cavities above the larynx, which are the cavities of the mouth and of the nose. while parts of these cavities are solid, like the roof of the mouth, other parts, like the soft palate, are pliable; while the tongue is so astoundingly mobile that it constantly can alter the resonance cavity of the mouth as to dimension and shape. the larynx is swathed and lined with membrane and muscle. these membranes and muscles are named after the cartilages to which they are attached, between which they lie, or which they operate. there is no reason why they should be enumerated now. the function of the muscles of the larynx is stated by all authorities with which i am familiar to be twofold--to open and close the glottis (the space between the vocal cords), and to regulate the tension of the vocal cords, because the vibrations of these are considered the determining factor of vocal pitch. sir morell mackenzie, however, in describing the muscles of the larynx in a passage couched in untechnical language, unconsciously gives a hint of another purpose for which the complexity of muscles in the larynx may exist. after speaking of the "innumerable little fingers of the muscles which move the vocal cords," he continues: "these fingers (which prosaic anatomists call _fibres_), besides being almost countless in number, are arranged in so intricate a manner that every one who dissects them finds out something new, which, it is needless to say, is forthwith given to the world as an important discovery. it is probable that no amount of macerating or teasing ever will bring us to 'finality' in this matter; nor do i think it would profit us much as regards our knowledge of the physiology of the voice if the last fibrilla of tiny muscle were run to earth. the mind can form no clearer notions of the infinitely little than of the infinitely great, and the microscopic movements of these tiny strips of contractile tissue would be no more _real_ to us than the figures which express the rapidity of light and the vast stretches of astronomical time and distance. moreover, no two persons have their laryngeal muscles arranged in precisely the same manner--a circumstance which of itself goes a considerable way toward explaining the almost infinite variety of human voices. the wonderful diversity of expression in faces which structurally, as we may say, are almost identical, is due to minute differences in the arrangement of the little muscles which move the skin. the same thing holds good of the larynx." these are significant words. the distinguished physician who wrote them might just as well have said that the generally prevailing theory that in voice-production the muscles of the larynx exist solely to open and close the glottis and to regulate the tension and hence the vibration of the vocal cords, is incorrect. for they also exist in order to shape and reshape the entire larynx within itself according to the note to be produced, and the opening or closing of the glottis with the degree of tension of the vocal cords resulting therefrom is but one detail in the coördination of adjustments and readjustments which prepare the vocal tract to produce the tone the singer hears in his mind. nearly every authority on the physiology of voice-production believes that the vocal tone is produced solely by the vibration of the vocal cords, and that the entire vocal tract situated above the vocal cords is concerned merely with augmenting the tone and determining its timbre or quality. let us examine this theory and ascertain how tenable it is. to begin with, the term "cord" as applied to the vocal cords is misleading. it suggests a resemblance between the vocal cords and the strings of a violin, which are capable of great tension, or at least a resemblance between the vocal cords and the vibrating reed of a reed-instrument. in point of fact, the vocal cords are neither strings nor reeds, and are not even freely suspended from end to end or from one end like reeds, but are attached along their entire lower portion to the inner wall of the larynx. therefore they are not cords, nor strings, nor reeds in any sense whatsoever. they are shelves composed of flesh and muscle, their substance resembles neither the catgut of which the strings of stringed instruments are made nor the cane, wood or metal of which the reeds of reed-instruments are formed; and the entire length of each cord is a trifle more than half an inch in men and a little less than half an inch in women. almost every writer on voice appears to consider the term "cord" as applied to them a misnomer. they have been spoken of as membranous lips. "the vocal 'cord' is not a _string_, but the free edge of a projecting fold of membrane," says mackenzie. yet it is not only claimed but announced over and over again as a physiological fact that the human voice, sometimes sweet and mellow, sometimes tense and vibrant and with its great range, is produced solely by the vibration of two projecting folds of membrane, free only at their edges and at their longest only a little over half an inch in length. at least one writer on voice-production, prof. wesley mills, appears to have doubted the correctness of the old and oft-repeated theory. "allusion must be made," he writes in "voice-production in singing and speaking," "to the danger of those engaged in mathematical and physical investigation applying their conclusions in too rigid a manner to the animal body. it was held until recently that the pitch of a vocal tone was determined solely by the number of vibrations of the vocal bands, as if they acted like the strings of a violin or the reed of a clarinet, while the resonance chambers were thought to simply take up these vibrations and determine nothing but the quality of tone.... it seems probable that the vocal bands so beat the air within the resonance chambers as to determine the rate of vibration of the air of these cavities, and so the pitch of the tone produced." this at least shows dissatisfaction with the old theory and attaches some share of their due importance to the resonance cavities, but it still is far from describing the correct phenomenon of voice-production. show a lateral section of a larynx to a trumpet or horn player and he will at once recognize its similarity to the cupped mouthpiece and tube of trumpet or horn, the cup in the larynx being formed by the ventricles or pockets above the vocal cords. extend the picture so that it includes not only the larynx but the resonance cavities of the head as well, and the cornet, trumpet or horn player will recognize the similarity to the tube of his instrument as it turns upon itself. the manner in which the lips shape themselves as the player blows into the instrument, the form and size of the cup, the gyration and friction of the air within it and within the bent portion of the tube, determine the pitch and the quality of the tone that issues from the bell of the instrument. the shape assumed by the lips, which are capable of many exquisite variations in shape, conditions the form of the air-column as it enters the cup of the trumpet or horn. this i believe to be one important function performed for the larynx by the vocal cords, which mackenzie, with an aptness he could not have appreciated, called the lips of the glottis. they are, in fact, the lips of the essential organ of voice, the larynx. if they are looked at from below they will be seen to be bevelled, and their resemblance to lips even more striking. while, however, the importance of the vocal cords in tone-production has been overestimated, i should be going to the opposite extreme if i limited their importance to their function as the lips of the glottis. not only are they lips, but vibrating lips, their vibrations, however, requiring enforcement through the sympathetic vibrations which they generate within the cup of the larynx and in the cavities above. as lips, the vocal cords shape the air-column as it enters the larynx, to the required note; as vibrating lips--set into vibration by the very air-column to which they have given shape--they start the vibrations essential to pitch and pass them along into the cup of the larynx, which also has shaped itself to the note and where gyration and friction begin to reinforce the vibrations started by the cords. what is true of the cup also is true of the resonance-cavities. in other words, the entire vocal tract, from cords to lips, shapes and reshapes itself with reference to the tone that is to be produced, and what thus goes on above the vibrating cords coöperates to produce the effect formerly attributed to the cords alone. the fact that the cup of the larynx subtly changes its shape for each tone produced, makes the hitherto obscure subject of registers of the voice, which many writers have written _around_ but none _about_, perfectly clear. the cup assumes what may be called a generic shape for each register, and then goes through subtle adjustments of shape for the different notes within each register. but this is a subject to be taken up in detail later. the reader now will understand why at different points in this chapter i have emphasized the fact that the larynx as a whole and throughout all its parts is capable of numerous adjustments in shape, and that the same is true of the resonance-cavities. the vocal tract of an accomplished singer is capable of as many adjustments as a sensitive face is of changes in expression. this phenomenon is the vocal tract making ready to generate, vitalize and emit the tone suggested by the mind--mind pressing the button, the physical organs of voice-production doing the rest. chapter vi pitch and sympathetic vibration it is sympathetic vibration, manifesting itself in some instances in the chest and in the head cavities, and in other instances almost entirely within the latter, that gives to voices their peculiar timbre or tone-quality--their physiognomy. it is by timbre that we distinguish voices as we distinguish features. with instruments, differences in quality of tone--differences in timbre--are due to differences of shape; and in case of instruments of the same kind, for example, violins, to slight differences in form or to the grain, age and quality of the wood. in the same manner, there are minute differences in the structure of the vocal tract of different people; and it is especially the structural differences between the resonant cavities of individual singers that determine differences of timbre or quality. it is easy to distinguish between tones even of the same pitch that come from a harp, a violin, a trumpet, a flute or from the human voice. between two violins of exactly the same make, played on by the same person, there would be greater difficulty in discovering differences in the quality of tone, although, even if made after the same pattern and about the same date, there probably would be minute structural differences that would differentiate their timbre to a musical ear; while if, of two violins, one of the instruments were new, and the other old, a musical ear probably would immediately detect differences in their tone-quality. it is easier to distinguish between voices even of the same range, than between instruments of the same kind, because there is strong individuality in voices. this is due to the fact that structural differences between the vocal tracts of individuals are far more numerous and far more minute than possibly can be introduced into instruments. moreover, the vocal tract, being part of the human body, is subtly responsive to innumerable impulses and adjusts and readjusts itself in innumerable ways. instruments are made of material, chiefly wood and metal, and, unlike the vocal tract, cannot change structurally. the cornet, for example, is made of brass. the lips of the player protruding into the cup can effect certain changes in shape, and changes also can be made in the tube between the mouthpiece and the bell of the instrument by pistons or valves. but these changes are absurdly small in number compared with the structural changes of which the vocal tract is capable, and commonplace in character compared with the refined and subtle minuteness of the latter. for this reason, while there is a distinct timbre for each kind of instrument, there are innumerable timbres of the human voice--as many as there are voices, and all due to the pliability of the vocal tract. it is the manner in which the numerous individual conformations of the vocal tract affect the overtones in the voice that makes voices different from each other; for the overtones are the chief agency in determining the timbre, quality, or physiognomy of any tone. every tone consists of a fundamental or ground tone with its overtones. the fundamental tone determines the pitch; the overtones determine the quality, tone-color, timbre, or physiognomy of the tone. the overtones, or harmonics, as they also are called, vibrate in certain simple harmonic relations with the fundamental--from twice to five times as often per second, sounding the octave above, the fifth of that octave, the second octave, the major third of that octave, etc. so important is it to the individual musical quality of tone, to secure the coöperation of overtones, that in certain large open organ pipes, which are deficient in these, extra pipes of higher pitch and corresponding with the overtones of the fundamental note, are added and joined to the register. overtones without the fundamental can be obtained on stringed instruments by stopping one of the strings and then touching it lightly at other points. the soft, sweet, ethereal character of the harmonics produced in this manner on a violin conveys some idea of the manner in which the many overtones of a note give it its distinctive quality. in a way the overtones may be said to echo the fundamental, but the ear receives fundamental and overtones blended as one tone of a certain timbre. what that timbre is, is determined by the shape of the resonating cavity or cavities, the shape of which in turn is determined by the shape of the instrument, and in different voices by infinitesimal differences in the shape of various parts of the vocal tract. all instruments of a kind are made more or less on the same pattern and vary but little in shape. for this reason we have the distinct violin, horn, clarinet or pianoforte timbre, and so on down the list, but i repeat here that there are not such minute and individual differences between instruments of the same kind as there are between voices of the same range, because there are no such minute and individual structural differences in instruments as in the vocal organs of individuals--differences that each individual can multiply _ad infinitum_ by the subtle and delicate play of muscles acting in response to mental suggestion, art sense, inspiration, temperament, psychic impulse, or by whatever cognate term one may choose to call it. there is little or nothing of psychology in mackenzie's book, and yet, like other writers on voice-production, he appears now and then to be groping for it. thus, when he speaks of the fundamental tone being reinforced by its overtones--by a number of secondary sounds higher in pitch and fainter in intensity--he adds very beautifully that every resonance-cavity has what may be called its elective affinity, or one particular note, to the vibrations of which it responds sympathetically like a lover's heart answering that of his beloved. "as the crude tone issues from the larynx, the mouth, tongue and soft palate, moulding themselves by the most delicately adaptive movements into every conceivable variety of shape, clothe the raw bones of sound with body and living richness of tone. each of the various resonance-chambers reëchoes its corresponding tone, so that a single well-delivered note is, in reality, a full choir of harmonious sounds." voice being, like instrumental tone, a commixture of fundamental and overtones, and the manner in which the composite conformation of collective waves strikes the ear being largely determined by the cavities of resonance, the control of these is of great importance to the singer. this control should, by thorough training, be brought to such a degree of efficiency that it becomes subconscious and automatic, so that the resonance-cavities shape themselves instantly to the note that is being produced within the larynx and, vibrating in sympathy with it, sound the overtones. the reciprocal principle of elective affinity between fundamental and overtone, between the shape assumed by the larynx for pitch and the shape assumed by the resonance-cavities for quality, is illustrated by the exciting influence of a sounding instrument upon a silent one tuned to the same pitch which, although not touched by human hand, sounds in sympathy with the one that is being played on. even a jar standing upon a mantel-shelf, a globe on a lamp, a glass on a table, or some other object in the room, may vibrate and rattle when a certain note is struck on the pianoforte. this is the result of sympathetic vibration. thus, although vocal tone originates within the larynx, it sets the resonance-cavities into sympathetic vibration, and these produce the harmonics that give the fundamental tone its timbre; the resonance-cavities being to the vocal cords or lips what the body or resonance-box of the violin and the sounding-board of the pianoforte are to their strings, the tube of a cornet or horn to the lips, the body of the clarinet to its reed--the resonating factor which determines the overtones and through these the timbre. excepting the chest and trachea the resonance-cavities of the voice are located above the larynx. to the chest as a resonator the low tones of the voice owe much of their great volume. indeed, the chest is such a superb and powerful resonating box that, if it resonated also for the high tones, these, with their inherent capacity for penetration, probably would become disagreeably acute. therefore, nature, wise in this as in many other things, has decreased chest vibration as the voice ascends the scale. above the larynx is the pharynx, a space extending to the base of the skull and opening into the mouth, and higher up connecting with the base of the nose by means of two passages, the posterior nares, or back nasal passages. the walls of the pharynx are permeated by a network of muscles, so that this important space or resonance-cavity immediately above the larynx is susceptible of numerous adjustments and readjustments in size and shape; and as it lies with its back wall against the spinal column, it also is susceptible and immediately responsive to suggestion from the mind. another important resonance-cavity, indeed, the most important, is the mouth, roofed by the hard palate which separates the mouth from the nasal chamber, to which latter it also forms the floor. in the mouth is the tongue, extremely mobile, and thus capable of materially changing the size and shape of the mouth-cavity. hanging from the rear of the hard palate, like a veil over the root of the tongue, is the soft palate; attached to which is the uvula. this hangs vertically down from the soft palate and, if the rear end of the tongue is allowed to bulge upward slightly, can be made to form with it a kind of valve, by which voice is conveyed directly into the mouth-cavity without any of it escaping up the posterior nasal passage; while the soft palate by itself alone can be drawn up so as to touch the back wall of the pharynx, completely closing the passage to the nose, so that a continuous curved resonance-cavity is afforded from larynx to lips. the soft palate is continued on either side by two folds known as the fauces; and each of the fauces has two ridges, the pillars of the fauces, between which are the tonsils. the pillars of the fauces enclose muscular fibres which act respectively on the tongue, the sides of the pharynx, and the upper part of the larynx, and thus aid in the necessary movements of the vocal tract. the nasal passage, divided into two ducts by a vertical partition, the _vomer septum_, was referred to in the chapter on inspiration. the so-called sinuses are hollow spaces in small bones on either side and above the nasal passage and communicating directly or indirectly with it. a question regarding the nasal cavity, including the sinuses, suggests itself. of what use is the nasal passage as a cavity of resonance if, in order to prevent a nasal quality of tone, the passage during voice-emission is shut off by the action of the soft palate, or by the combined action of the soft palate, uvula and tongue? the answer is, first, that it is not always to be closed off, because there are times when a slightly nasal timbre in voice is desirable; secondly, that even when the nasal cavity is shut off, the hard palate being not only the roof of the mouth but also the floor of the nose, its vibrations are communicated to the nasal cavity, but not directly enough to give a disagreeable nasal quality to the voice. from this survey it will be seen that the cavities of resonance along the vocal tract may be divided into such parts as are solid, pliable and movable. the solid parts are sharply resonant; they are, _par excellence_, the resonators in voice-production; while a pliable part, like the pharynx, although resonant in a less degree, is valuable in adjusting structural shape to every condition that arises; and the most movable parts of all, the tongue and the lips, probably wholly devoid of resonance, have their great rôles to play in effecting what may be called wholesale changes in the size and shape of the mouth-cavity, which could not be brought about by any other agencies less mobile. the roof of the mouth, the teeth, the hard gums, the cones of the nasal passage, and the sinuses are the solid portions of the cavities of resonance. when svengali gazed into trilby's mouth and exclaimed, "himmel, what a roof!" he spoke from the depths of vocal knowledge. for a highly arched mouth roof, especially if the tone enters the mouth cavity from a wide, well-rounded pharynx, is of great value to the singer. so is a fine, shapely, regular set of teeth, especially as regards the upper front teeth, behind which the vibrations appear to centre in so called "forward production." cautiously brought into play, the posterior nasal passage assists, with its resonance, the head tones of the female voice and the upper range of male voices; but care must be taken not to carry the tone up into the nose and thus give it a nasal quality. some writers class the walls of the pharynx with the solid parts of the vocal tract. but the walls of the pharynx are pliable, as already has been pointed out, together with the admirable results to be derived from their flexibility when under the singer's control. the movable parts of or pertaining to the resonance-cavities are the soft palate with the uvula, the fauces, the cheeks, the lips, the lower jaw and, most mobile of all, the tongue. the uvula often is too long, either by nature or through a disease called prolongation of the uvula. it can be treated by astringents or the elongation can be cut off, which usually is the most prompt and efficacious way. the operator, however, in case the patient is a singer, must calculate to a nicety just how much to remove, otherwise the voice will suffer. there are isolated cases of deformed soft palate with uvula so enormous that it cannot be raised. in such cases, one of which is instanced by kofler, a surgical operation being out of the question, the patient simply has to give up singing. enlarged tonsils, whether from inflammation or other causes, also have to be operated on, as their enlargement obviously hinders free voice-emission. even at its best the mouth-passage here is narrowest--and called the "isthmus"--and nothing must be allowed to make it narrower than it is by nature. the lips never should lie flat against the teeth, since this would muffle resonance. on the other hand, the teeth should not be bared, as this results in a foolish grin. the cheeks naturally conform to the action of the lips. the lower jaw should be relaxed, which gives the so-called "floating chin." when the lower jaw, and with it the chin, is raised, the throat is tightened, and voice-action becomes constricted. the "floating chin" does not, of course, mean that the chin is to be thrust downward into the chest. in singing, as in everything else, there is a golden rule to be observed. it is obvious that the tongue also is a highly responsible member of the vocal tract. raise it too high, and you bring it so close to the hard palate that the mouth becomes too small for free, resonant voice-emission. the tone becomes wheezy. let the tongue lie too flat, and the mouth-cavity becomes too large and cavernous for tense, vibrant voice-emission. the tone becomes too open. let the base of the tongue move back too far, and it will tend to close the pharynx and to check free egress from the pharynx into the mouth, making the tone muffled. raise the back of the tongue until it touches the soft palate, and the two combined close the mouth-cavity from behind, with the result that voice is carried up the nasal passage and is charged with a disagreeable nasal quality. for every tone produced there is a special adjustment throughout the entire vocal tract. these adjustments should, by practice, become automatic, simple acts of swift and unconscious obedience to the will. then the question of "forward," "backward," or "middle" production, according to the part of the roof of the mouth where the tone-vibrations appear to centre, will become a matter wholly of the quality of voice which it is desired to produce for any given emotional state. forward production--vibration appearing to centre a little back of the upper front teeth--is, as a general thing, the best. yet a voice brilliant to the point of hardness can be mellowed by middle or backward production. these are matters of judgment. but when i am told, as i was by a young girl, that she was being taught to centre the tone-vibrations "back of her eyes," all i can do is to throw up my hands and exclaim, "o voice-production, what crimes are committed in thy name!" yes--there should be a rescue league, or a society for the prevention of cruelty to singers. chapter vii registers of the voice the subject of vocal registers is a difficult one--difficult to understand and, when understood, difficult to make intelligible to others. in fact, it is so difficult that some people get rid of it by calmly asserting that there are no registers. this is unfortunate, because the blending of the registers, the smoothing out of the voice where one register passes over into another, the elimination of the "break" between them, is one of the greatest problems which the teacher of voice-production is obliged to solve. like so many other branches in the art of voice-production, the subject is complicated by initial misunderstandings. numerous people suppose, for example, that the vocal registers are synonymous with the different kinds of voices, and speak of the alto, soprano, bass or tenor register as if register stood for quality, which it does not. another complication results from the fact that certain phenomenal voices, chiefly tenor, literally rise superior to the law of vocal registers. thus, a phenomenal tenor like duprez sang with ease the whole tenor range, including the high c, in the powerful, vibrant "chest" register, whereas the average tenor, while producing a great portion of his voice in the chest register, is obliged at a certain point in the ascending scale to pass into the "middle" and beyond that into the "head" register. the breaks that occur in average voices at certain points of the scale have established the divisions of the voice into registers. these breaks can be accounted for on scientific grounds; and if the physiology of voice-production had done no more than explain the why and wherefore of vocal registers, it would have justified itself through this alone. suppose there were a man able to produce the entire male vocal compass, from deepest bass to highest tenor. while for every note throughout the entire compass there would be subtle changes in the adjustment of the vocal tract, the following also would be true:--that, beginning with the lowest note and throughout the first octave of his voice, the changes in the adjustment of the vocal tract would not alter the general character of the adjustment for that octave; that, on entering the second octave, there would be a tendency toward change in the general adjustment of the vocal tract; while, for the production of the remaining notes above, an almost startling change in the adjustment of the vocal tract would take place. the same would be true if a woman, capable of producing the entire female vocal compass, were to begin with the lowest contralto and sing up to the highest soprano tone. it is the general character of the adjustment of the vocal tract for a certain range of notes in the vocal scale that determines each register, the two principal changes in adjustment causing two breaks in the smooth progression of the voice. allowing for the fact that the male voice is an octave below the female voice, but in all other respects corresponds with it in range, the adjustment of the vocal tract throughout each register is the same for both men and women singers. there is, i fear, a prevalent notion on the part of the musical public that each voice has its own separate registers; that, for example, the registers of the soprano voice are at different points of the scale from those of the alto, and those of the tenor at different points from both of these. but this is not the case. always allowing for the octave difference between the male and female voice, the registers for all voices are at fixed points of the scale and are, or should be, sung by all voices with the same adjustment of the vocal tract. a few examples will make this clear. the lowest register for female voice is: [music: f -f ] that for male voice: [music: f -f ] i.e., an octave lower. these are the first eight notes of the alto of the female voice and of the bass of the male voice. alto and bass sing these notes with precisely the same adjustment of the vocal tract. the vocal cords in this register vibrate along their entire length, the space between them, also the "cup" and the general adjustment of the vocal tract, are open. a good soprano can come down into this register as far as [music: c ] and a good tenor as far as [music: c ], and when these voices come down into this register they too sing with the same adjustment of the vocal tract as is used for the same tones by alto and bass. this, therefore, constitutes the lowest register for all voices--not because it consists of certain notes, but because these notes require the same general adjustment of the vocal tract for their production by all voices. when it comes to the next or middle register:--[music: f -f ] for female voices (and an octave below for male voices), soprano and tenor sing through this entire register with ease, using a slightly different adjustment of the vocal tract from that which they employed when they went down into the lowest register. the ordinary alto stops at c in this register, as does also the bass at an octave lower. when they enter it their vocal tract adjusts itself to it and corresponds with the adjustment employed in it by soprano and tenor. in this register the vocal cords still vibrate along their entire length, but as the voice progresses upward, they show a tendency to shorten the glottic chink, and the cup, as well as the adjustment of the entire vocal tract, tends to become less open. it is the register of transition, placed between the lowest and highest, as if to bridge over the interval. the highest register: [music: f -c ] (an octave lower for male voice) calls for an extraordinary change in the adjustment of the vocal tract. the vocal cords are pressed tightly together at the rear and sometimes both at the rear and front. these portions thus cease to vibrate. only the small free parts vibrate and these only at the edges. as the voice progresses up the scale the stop action ceases, the elliptical opening and the cup become smaller, and the entire vocal tract is, comparatively speaking, contracted. this register practically belongs only to sopranos and tenors. for example, although some baritones are capable of adjusting their vocal tracts to this register, their voices lose the baritone timbre, take on a feminine quality, and become male altos. in other words, there are three registers, and they correspond for all voices, but certain voices sing more in one register than in the others. thus, the lowest register is the special province of the alto and the bass; soprano and tenor can come down only a few notes into it. the middle and the highest registers are the special province of soprano and tenor. the ordinary alto and bass can come up only part way into the middle register and cannot follow soprano and tenor at all into the highest. the division of the registers which i have made is subject to many practical exceptions, which so far i have avoided mentioning, because i wanted to fix in the reader's mind the fact that the registers are the same for all voices and are determined by the special adjustment of the vocal apparatus required for their production, and not by voice-quality. now and then in a generation there may appear upon the scene a singer, usually tenor, who for his high notes is not obliged to adopt the somewhat artificial adjustment required by the highest register, but can sing all his tones in the easier adjustments of the lowest or middle register. but he is a phenomenon, the exception that proves the rule. another practical exception to my rigid division of the registers is furnished by the overlapping of registers, the capacity of a singer to produce the lower notes of one register with the vocal adjustment employed for the higher notes of the register below, and vice versa; so that where the registers meet there are possibly some half a dozen optional notes. most basses and baritones, for example, sing only in one register, that is, they carry the vocal adjustment for the lowest register into the notes they are able to sing in the register above. these exceptions will be considered later. at present, in order to treat this difficult subject in something that at least approaches an elementary manner, it is necessary to make the division of the vocal scale into registers a somewhat rigid one. it is, then, the three different adjustments of the vocal tract which determine the three divisions of the vocal scale and likewise the positions or registers for each division. the basis, therefore, for the division of voice-production into registers is not haphazard, but rests on the science of physiology. that there are not separate registers for men and women is due to the fact that men's voices run parallel to those of women at an interval of an octave below, and that, note for note, the adjustment of the male vocal tract is the same as that of the female vocal tract an octave above. for this reason basses and baritones, although singing an octave below contraltos and altos, sing in the same registers; for this reason also, tenors, although singing an octave below sopranos, employ the same registers. i am, of course, speaking of average voices, not of phenomenal ones. mackenzie has defined a register as a series of tones of like quality producible by a particular adjustment of the vocal cords. mills defines register as a series of tones of a characteristic clang, timbre, color or quality due to the employment of a special mechanism of the larynx in a particular manner. both definitions practically mean the same thing. what i object to in them is their use of the word "quality," and mackenzie's limitation of the adjustment to the vocal cords and mills' to the larynx. the adjustment takes place throughout the entire vocal tract. indeed, one of the claims i make for this book is, that it does not limit the voice-producing factor to the vibrations of the vocal cords, but while recognizing the importance of these, also considers the importance of the rest of the vocal tract in relation to them. other writers hold that voice is produced solely by the vibrations of the vocal cords, and that the rest of the vocal tract is concerned merely with determining the timbre of the voice. but i do not limit the function of the vocal tract below and above the cords simply to voice quality. to produce a given tone requires not only vibration of the cords but an adjustment along the entire tract and especially a change in the size and shape of the cup space. if one wished to be exasperatingly accurate one might say that each adjustment constituted a register, and that in every voice there were as many registers as there are tones. but surveying the progress of the voice up the vocal scale, and as a whole, it is found that up to a certain point the general character of adjustment within the vocal tract is the same, that beyond that point there is a change to another adjustment of a general character, and further beyond still another--in other words, that there are three registers. some writers recognize only two physical changes in the mechanism of the vocal tract and consequently only two registers instead of three. they dispense entirely with the middle register because the general change there in the adjustment within the vocal tract is not, in their opinion, sufficient to determine a new register. in point of fact, however, while the lower vocal range calls the vocal cords into vibration along their entire length, and while for the highest range only a portion of the edges of the vocal cords vibrate, the adjustment for the medium tones shows a gradual change from the first condition to the third. it is a bridge by which the voice crosses in safety from the lowest to the highest register--a register of transition, but a register withal. moreover, as the voice progresses upward through the scale, three distinct physical sensations are experienced by the singer according as to whether he is singing low, middle or high. there is one physical sensation for the lower, another for the middle and a third for the higher notes. this would indicate that there is, after all, more of a change in the adjustment of the vocal tract for the middle notes than is apparent superficially, and confirms the position of those who hold that there are three vocal registers instead of two. in voice-production of the lower notes there is a physical sensation of vibration in the upper chest; on the medium notes, in the pharynx; on the higher notes, in the head. these physical sensations have determined the names of chest register for the lower and head register for the higher range of tones. strictly speaking, the middle range should be denominated pharyngeal or throat register, but usually it is called the medium or middle register. in the chest register the vibrations of the vocal cords are slow and heavy; the vocal tract being in its relaxed, open adjustment, the larynx sinks slightly and, the vibrations taking place in their nearest proximity to the chest, they are communicated to it. in the middle register the adjustment of the vocal tract is more closed than in the chest register, the larynx rises a little, the shape of the vocal tract is determined largely by the relative positions assumed by the epiglottis and the soft palate, and the vibrations no longer can communicate themselves to the chest, but are felt in the pharynx. in the head register the vocal cords come together at one end, sometimes at both ends, and only the upturned edges of the resulting small aperture vibrate, throwing the sensation of vibration up into the head. in every way nature seems to indicate that there are three vocal registers. the most extreme limits of human voice so far known were found in the voices of ludwig fischer, a bass singer, and of lucrezia agujari (la bastardella), a florid soprano. fischer created the rôle of osmin in mozart's "_entführing aus dem serail_." his voice went down to contra f [music: f ] an entire octave lower than the ordinary bass singer. la bastardella sang as high as [music: c ] or an octave higher than what usually is spoken of as soprano "high c." these, however, were marvellous voices, so extraordinary that they form part of the history of singing. indeed, baker, in his "biographical dictionary of musicians," credits fischer with d--a^ [music: d -a ]. a reasonable statement of the vocal compass would be - / octaves, or [music: f to c ] for female voice and the same, an octave lower, for male voice. allowing for unusual voices, the statement would be as follows: [music: treble staff: low or chest register. d -f middle register. g -f high or head register. g -f bass staff: low or chest register. c -f middle register. g -f high or head register. g -c ] this musical example shows that save for the lowest note of the bass voice and the three highest of the soprano, the male and female compass parallel each other at an interval of an octave apart, and that the division of the registers is the same for both. still utilizing the same musical example, but noting now the two chief divisions of male and female voices (bass and tenor in the male and alto and soprano in the female), the example would be divided as follows: [music: alto. low or chest register. d -f middle register. g -f soprano. low or chest register. c -f middle register. g -f high or head register. g -f bass. low or chest register. c -f middle register. g -e tenor. low or chest register. b[flat] -f middle register. g -f high or head register. g -c ] it must be borne in mind that registers overlap, that they extend up and down one into another, and that at points where this occurs it is optional with the singer in which of the two overlapping registers he will produce his tones. there are many singers who can sing at will the lower half of the middle register either in chest or middle, and the upper half of the middle either in middle or head. it is to be noted, however, that it is easier to bring down a tone from a higher into a lower register than to force up a register, the latter proceeding often being ruinous to the voice. duprez, a phenomenal tenor, could, as i have stated, sing the whole tenor range in the chest register. he could emit the _ut de poitrine_, which means that he could sing even tenor high c in the chest register. the result was that half the tenors of europe ruined their voices trying to imitate him. for they ignored the natural three-register divisions of the voice, and thought they could accomplish with their average voices what is reserved only for phenomenal ones. there are three registers; and the interrelations between these and the different voices within the male and female range must now be considered. chapter viii subdivisions of the voice it should be remembered that in the old days, from which traditions of phenomenally high voices have come down to us, musical pitch was lower than it is now. in those days a tenor, for example, could carry up his voice in the adjustment for the middle or in phenomenal cases even for the chest register, instead of changing to the head register, more easily than can be done now. in fact, nowadays, when a composer calls for a very high note, it usually is transposed, so that actually the supposedly high c of _di quella pira_ nearly always is a b flat. probably there has been no general deterioration in voices, popular opinion to the contrary notwithstanding. phenomenal voices always have been rare, and doubtless are no rarer now than at any other period. at any time any opera house would have been proud of two such tenors as caruso and bonci, or of two such sopranos as melba and tetrazzini, while there is no period in which a sembrich would not have been a _rara avis_. the artist who, seemingly taught by nature, spontaneously employs the correct registers and sings the most difficult music with ease and accuracy, always has been an unusually gifted person--a vocal phenomenon, in fact. the preceding chapter gave only the main divisions for male and female voices--alto and soprano for female and baritone and tenor for male. there are subdivisions of these. contralto is a subdivision of alto, mezzo-soprano of soprano; and soprano itself may be dramatic or florid. baritone is a division of bass; and tenor is either dramatic or lyric. even when one of these subdivisions of voice is able to enter the range of another, it cannot do the same things with the same ease as the one which naturally belongs there. an alto of extraordinary range, like schumann-heink, may be able to achieve high soprano in the head register. it is a valuable accomplishment, insuring ease in singing of rôles that lie in the balance between high alto and mezzo-soprano, but it does not make the singer a soprano. a dramatic soprano may be able to sing florid rôles, but never with the success of the soprano whose natural gifts are of the florid order. a wagner singer rarely succeeds in the traditional italian rôles, nor a singer of these in wagner rôles. lilli lehmann always insisted that norma was one of her great rôles, and craved the opportunity to sing it here. at last the opportunity came, but it is not on record that the public clamored for its repetition or ranked her _casta diva_ with her singing of isolde's liebestod. melba, one of the most exquisite of florid sopranos, once attempted brünnhilde in _siegfried_. one performance, and her good judgment came to her rescue. it is to sembrich's credit that she always has remained within her genre and for this reason never, so far as i know, has made a failure. the sign-post that stands at the entrance to the path leading to vocal success might read as follows: "find out what your voice is, and remain strictly within it." the voice which, because of its great range, best illustrates the three-register division of the vocal scale, is the soprano. the average soprano ranges from [music: c -a ]; but combining the three types of soprano voices, the soprano compass is as given in the previous chapter, the extremes being, of course, exceptional. among types of sopranos, the dramatic averages the greatest compass. the voice is heavier than florid soprano and incapable of being handled with the same agility. but it contains more low notes and almost as many high ones, unless in the latter respect one compares it with florid soprano voices of the phenomenal order. otherwise, so far as the high notes are concerned, the difference lies in quality rather than in compass. the inflammatus in rossini's _stabat mater_, which is written for dramatic soprano, contains the high c, and no one who has heard nordica sing it need be told of the noble effect a great dramatic soprano can produce with it. it is possible to sing the three highest notes of the chest register of dramatic soprano with the adjustment for the middle register; and the higher notes of the middle register with the adjustment for the head register. this option is not merely a convenience. its artistic value is great. in loud phrases those optional notes which naturally lie in the chest register are delivered most effectively in that register; but in _piano_ phrases they are more effective when sung with the adjustment of the middle register. the same thing applies to those optional tones which naturally lie in the middle register. in loud phrases they are sung best in their natural register--the middle; in _piano_ phrases, in the head register. these are two capital illustrations of the value of the overlapping of registers and the necessity of training a voice to be equally at home in both registers on all notes that are optional. theoretically, the florid soprano produces the three lowest notes of its range in the chest register; the notes from [music: f -f ] in the middle; and the notes above these in the head register. in practice, however, the small larynx and the limited cup space found in florid sopranos make it difficult if not impossible for them to adjust their vocal tracts to the chest register. the problem is met by bringing the head register as far down as possible into the middle; and by singing what theoretically should be chest tones in the middle register. it hardly need be pointed out that the lower notes of florid sopranos are weak. this accounts for it. florid soprano, the voice of the head register, is a voice of extraordinary agility--the voice of vocal pyrotechnics. to achieve it nature appears to have found it necessary to sacrifice the heavier middle and chest registers which make for dramatic expression; with dramatic sopranos, on the other hand, to sacrifice the muscular flexibility which makes for agility. mezzo-soprano is a voice that lies within the compass of dramatic soprano, usually extending neither quite so low nor quite so high, but governed by the same laws. for altos the ordinary compass is [music: g -c ]. a low alto or contralto is supposed to go down to the e below; while altos of unusual range go high as [music: f ]. i even have seen the alto compass in notation run up to "high" c; but to control this high range an alto would have to be another schumann-heink who has cultivated upper notes in the head register. the tone-quality of some alto voices approaches so nearly that of the male voice, especially in the lowest tones of the chest register, that these altos are known as female baritones. in fact there is no voice in which register affects tone-quality as plainly as in alto. for in alto voices the chest register is apt to give tones that are heavy without corresponding vibrance and sonority, while tones produced in the adjustment of the head register are apt to be too thin. the middle register, however, produces in the alto voice a tone that is rich without being too heavy, so that it avoids undue heaviness on the one hand and on the other a thinness that is in no way comparable with the light tones of soprano, but simply a thin and unsatisfactory alto. alto tone in the middle register therefore gives the standard tone-quality for alto voice; and when singing in chest or head register, an alto should endeavor to relieve the chest notes of their heaviness and the head notes of their thinness by giving them as much as she can the quality of tones in the middle register. this can be accomplished by bringing head tones down to middle and by carrying the middle register adjustment down into the chest register. but all this is as much a matter of correct ear and trained will power to make the voice reproduce the mental audition as it is of physical adjustment. the great prizes of the operatic stage and concert hall go to the higher voices--to sopranos, for example, instead of to altos. yet the proper training of an alto voice is a most difficult matter because, while the chest register is the natural singing register of alto, it produces too "big" a tone--a tone so big as to be heavy and unwieldy. the middle register in alto really is an assumed position, yet it is the register in which the standard alto tone is produced. teachers who either are ignorant of these facts or disregard them are apt to carry up the cumbersome chest register until it meets the thin head register, producing a voice whose low notes are too heavy and tend toward the uncanny and by no means agreeable female baritone quality, while the higher notes are thin and undecided in character. the male voice-range is the same as the female, save that it lies an octave lower; its mechanism is the same; and its registers are the result of identical physical functions. thus, allowing for the octave difference, the tenor voice and the laws that govern it correspond for all practical purposes with soprano. tenors are lyric and dramatic, a distinction that explains itself. the lyric tenor is light and flexible. the dramatic tenor is a ringing, vibrant voice, especially on the high notes. probably it is the splendor of these high notes that is responsible for the theory that they are produced by carrying the chest register upward. in point of fact, a genuine chest register rarely is employed by tenors. their easiest, their natural singing range, is in the middle register, and the tones which in the notation of the tenor compass are assigned to the chest register, really are sung in what is more like a downward extension of the middle register. just as the larynx of the soprano is not as large as that of the alto or contralto and is not capable of the open adjustment required by the chest register, so the larynx of the tenor is smaller than that of bass or baritone and, like the soprano, less capable of the open adjustment for chest register. the result is the same--a perceptible weakness on the lower notes, the great qualities of the voice lying in the middle and head registers, especially in the latter. the lyric tenor is a lighter voice than the dramatic for the same reason that florid soprano is lighter than dramatic soprano. the cup space within the larynx is, comparatively speaking, small. thus, while the head tones of the dramatic tenor are powerful and vibrant, the lyric tenor's head tones are lighter and more graceful, but are lacking in brilliant, resonant dramatic quality. a tenor like jean de reszke, who sang baritone for several years, must have a larynx somewhat larger than that of a genuine dramatic tenor, and his production of robust tenor notes in the head register must have required a most artistic series of adjustments of his voice tract throughout this entire register. but while it cannot be denied that jean de reszke was an artist in the truest sense of the term, it also cannot be denied that his high voice just lacked the true vibrant tenor quality and had a suspicion of baritone in it. some tenors who cannot sing unusually high in head register are able to acquire what is known as falsetto, and even tenors who are not obliged to resort to falsetto sometimes employ it for special effects. falsetto is produced by carrying the adjustment for head register to its extreme limit. practically it is the artificial reproduction within the throat of an adult of the small larynx before the period of mutation. in singing falsetto the false vocal cords drop down to within a quarter of an inch of the true cords and even closer, reducing the cup space in the larynx to its dimensions before mutation. to secure a good quality of tone in falsetto the singer must have complete control of the cup space--be able to diminish it not only by allowing the false cords to drop down almost upon the vocal cords, but also by contracting it laterally. if he can do this, he can produce some genuinely artistic effects in falsetto. when a tenor cannot control the muscles that contract the cup space, his falsetto will be of a poor quality--a mere "dodge" to add some higher notes to those of his legitimate vocal range. there are singers whose control over the registers is so expert that, when they are called upon to follow a loud, singing, vibrant head tone with a _pp_ effect on the same note, they can accomplish this by imperceptibly changing to falsetto. they can glide from head into falsetto and back again without a break and add the charm of varied tone-color to natural beauty of voice. this is especially true of dramatic tenors. if they can vary the naturally full and sonorous quality of their head tone with an artistic falsetto, they are able to secure many beautiful effects by an interchange of registers. whenever the high tones of a lyric tenor sound thin, it is because high head tones do not lie naturally within the singer's range and he is obliged to substitute falsetto for them. "baritone tenors" usually cannot achieve their higher notes in head register and are obliged to adopt falsetto, but as their voices are naturally fuller than those of the lyric tenor their falsetto is more agreeable. falsetto is a remnant of the voice before mutation, the male singer who can produce falsetto having such control over the larynx that he can contract the cup space until it reverts to its original boy size. this accounts for the peculiar quality of the male falsetto--its alloy of the feminine. boys sing soprano or alto; and a man's voice must be naturally high and possess such a genuine tenor quality that nothing can rob it of its true timbre, to be effective in falsetto. this is why the average "baritone tenors"--singers who begin as baritones but whose voices lend themselves to being trained up--rarely are able to penetrate an ensemble with a clear, ringing high note of genuine tenor quality. a good tenor falsetto is in fact a reversion to boy-soprano with, however, the quality of adult high voice predominating to such a degree that it has the tenor timbre; and in proportion as the high notes of the male voice result from artificial training instead of from natural capacity, the boy-soprano timbre will creep in and weaken the tenor quality in falsetto. some basses and low baritones can be trained to reach the high notes of the male vocal compass in falsetto, but as natural facility to produce these notes is lacking in such voices and their production is due wholly to artifice, the reversion to the boy quality of voice is so complete and it predominates to such a degree that these voices are known as male altos. falsetto usually is associated with tenors, but falsetto also can be employed by women, the results, as with men, depending on whether the voice is naturally a high one or not. i repeat that with voices which naturally are high, falsetto is not a "dodge," but a legitimate artistic effect. furthermore, singers who in addition to control of the regular registers have control of falsetto, frequently find physical relief in passing from head to falsetto and back again. basses are of three different kinds. basso profundo is the lowest bass; basso cantante is a flexible bass usually unable to sing quite as low as basso profundo; baritone is the highest bass--a voice midway between bass and tenor and partaking somewhat of the quality of both. the bass compass parallels that for contralto and alto at an interval of an octave and, in their use of the registers, basses and contraltos and baritones and altos have much in common. as with contralto, the natural singing register of basses is the chest register. the middle register is awkward to establish in bass voices, as the size of the larynx gives a large open cup space which is unsuited to the chest register. therefore, with basses, when the capacity of the chest register is exhausted, it is best for the production of the notes above to make a complete change of adjustment to head register. thus in bass the middle register practically is eliminated. the high bass or baritone compass is from [music: g -f ]. it was seen that the question of registers with altos and contraltos was a complicated one, and similar complications exist with baritones. some baritones can employ the middle register with ease, so that like certain contraltos they can sing in three registers--a rather weak chest register, middle and head (or falsetto) registers. the training of baritones is difficult, and should be determined by the tendency of the individual baritone voice--whether it inclines toward bass or toward tenor. for example, jean de reszke was at the beginning of his career the victim of faulty voice diagnosis. he was pronounced a baritone and trained for baritone rôles, with the result that he suffered from an exaggerated condition of fatigue after every appearance. later the probable tenor quality of his voice was discovered, and when it had been developed along physiological lines best suited to its real quality, undue fatigue after using it ceased. the division of the vocal scale into registers is not an artifice. it is nature's method of assisting vocalization, her way of relieving the strain of the voice. a certain portion of the vocal scale lies naturally in the chest register. but if this open adjustment is carried up too far, the tones are strained and eventually ruined. on the other hand if, at the proper point, the singer passes into the middle register, the strain is relieved; and the relief experienced is even greater when passing from middle into head, entirely releasing one set of muscles and calling an entirely new set into play. the so-called "breaks" in the voice occur at points where one register passes into another; and it should be the aim of proper instruction in voice-culture to eliminate the breaks. they are due to the change in adjustment which each register calls for. the best method of "blending the registers"--of smoothing out the breaks--is to bring a higher register several tones down into the one below and thus bridge over the passage from one adjustment to another. to do this consciously would defeat its aim. it must be done in spontaneous response to the mental conception of the tone or phrase to be emitted. it must become second nature with the singer, a physiological adjustment in answer to a psychical concept--a detail, in fact one of the most important details, in that true physiology of voice-production which also takes psychical conditions into consideration. chapter ix the stroke of the glottis the _coup de glotte_, translated as "stroke of the glottis," refers to the manner in which a note should be attacked. this matter of attack already has been covered by inference many times in the course of this book. for, as the effectiveness of vocal attack depends upon the way in which the air-column strikes the vocal cords, it follows that the advice constantly given and in accordance with which the entire vocal tract of the singer should adjust itself as if by second nature to the tone that is to be produced, each time places the cords in the correct position to receive the stroke of the outgoing air. it does away with all danger of the "audible stroke" which occurs most frequently on the very open vowel-sounds, when the air reaches the glottis too late and is obliged to force its way through, the result being a disagreeable click; and it also obviates the defect from the opposite cause, when the air passes through the glottis too soon and results in an aspirated sound, an h before vowels, the voice, for example, emitting "hi" for "i". mackenzie remarks on these points that the great object to be aimed at is that no air should be wasted or expended improvidently; that just the amount required for the particular effect in view must be used. too strong a current tends to raise the pitch, a result which can be prevented only by extra tension of the vocal cords, which, of course, entails unnecessary strain. again, the air may be sent up with such velocity that some of it leaks through before the glottis has time to intercept it; or with such violence as to force the lips of the chink a little too far apart. in either case so much motive power is thrown away and to that extent the brilliancy and fullness of the tone are lost. the _coup de glotte_, or exact correspondence between the arrival of the air at the larynx and the adjustment of the cords to receive it, is a point that cannot be too strongly insisted on. "the regulation of the force of the blast which strikes against the vocal cords," says mackenzie, "the placing of these in the most favorable position for the effect which it is desired to produce, and the direction of the vibrating column of air, are the three elements of artistic production. these elements must be thoroughly coördinated--that is to say, made virtually one act, which the pupil must strive by constant practice to make as far as possible automatic." extend this admirably expressed paragraph to the entire vocal tract instead of limiting it simply to the vocal cords as mackenzie does, and it covers the problem of attack. it is not only the vocal cords that should set for the tone at the moment the air-column strikes them, the entire vocal tract takes part in the adjustment that prepares for the attack. it is indeed, as mills says, a case of complex and beautiful adaptation. therefore, the term _coup de glotte_ imperfectly expresses what the modern physiologist of voice means by attack. for _coup de glotte_ conveys the idea of shock, hence creates an erroneous impression upon the mind of the singer. it is spontaneous adjustment, and neither shock nor even attack, that creates artistic tone. "voice and song," by joseph smith, expresses very well the combined psychical and physical conditions that should prevail at this important moment. to be certain of a good attack, the student should first think the pitch, then, with all the parts concerned properly adjusted, start breath and tone simultaneously, striking the tone clearly and smartly right in the middle of its pitch. the book also describes the three faulty ways of attack: ( ) the vocal cords approximate for the production of the tone after the breath has started, resulting in a disagreeable breathy attack; ( ) the glottis closes so firmly that the attack is accomplished by an extraordinary explosive effect or click; ( ) the vocal cords seek to adjust themselves to the pitch after the tone has started, and produce a horrible scoop in the attack. one of the worst faults in singing, the tremolo, is due to that unsteadiness of attack which results when the relationship between the breath and the laryngeal mechanism is not maintained--when the vocal tract has not been adjusted in time to the note the singer is aiming to produce. another writer who has a correct conception of what occurs at the important moment of attack is louis arthur russell, who says that the musical quality of a tone is due, st, to its correct starting at the vocal cords; d, its proper placement or focus in the mouth after passing through the upper throat, etc.; d, its proper reinforcement through resonance and shape of the mouth cavities; and th, its support by the breath. while this seems to describe four successive adjustments, they are so nearly simultaneous as to be one. this is clearly recognized by mr. russell, who says further, that what he has described implies that the body has been put into condition and that everything is in order, alert, responsive and ready for the call of the will; that the whole body is in singing condition; that everything is in tune, and that the one tone wanted is all that can ensue. the last is especially well put. everything has been made ready--psychically and physically--for the production of artistic voice, and nothing but artistic voice can result--no click, no aspiration, no tremolo, no wobble. the vocal tone in its passage strikes against the walls of the vocal tract. that part of the tract upon which it last impinges before issuing from between the lips determines the placement of a tone. the singers should think of the tone as focussed upon the front of the hard palate--behind the upper front teeth at about the point where the roof of the mouth begins to curve down toward them. if the tone is placed further forward than this, its quality will be metallic; if too far back, throaty. to impinge the tone near the nasal passage gives it a nasal quality, a fault most common with the french, acquired probably through the necessity of singing certain french words--_bien_, for example--through the nose. when, however, the french speak of singing _dans le masque_, they should not be understood as implying that tone should be nasal in quality, but that it should be projected both through mouth and nose and not unduly through either. as a rule, nasal placement should be avoided by all but the most experienced singers, and even by them employed only sparingly and only for passing effects in tone-color. the individual formation of the lips would seem to have much to do with their position in singing. some singers advocate a lip formation that gives an opening like an o; others lay the o on its side [illustration: o turned sideways] like an ellipse. the former represents the lip position of nordica, the latter of sembrich--so that, as i have said, it is largely a matter to be determined by the individual. but the singer who uses the elliptical position must guard against exaggerating it, as it then results in the "white voice," another frequent fault of french singers. after all, the final test of tone-production, tone-placing and position of the lips is the quality of the tone produced; and this is determined at first by the sensitive ear of the skilful teacher, and eventually by the trained mental audition of the pupil. the old italian singing-teachers have been greatly praised because they are said to have reasoned from tone to method and not from method to tone. those who praise them thus, usually intend their praise to be, incidently, a condemnation of anything like a scientific method of voice-production. in point of fact, however, the modern physiologist of voice-production is not an advocate of too fixed and rigid a method. he, too, proceeds from tone to method, and he goes even further for his tone than did the old italian masters. for whereas they began with the tone as it issued from the singer's lips, the modern physiologist of voice-production begins with the singer's mental audition--with the tone as the singer conceives it and to which his vocal tract should automatically set or adjust itself even before the breath of phonation leaves the lungs. with the beginner, the attack should first be performed on the easy singing notes of his voice; and although this book does not aim to be a singing-method, but rather a physiological basis for one, it may be said here that _a_, pronounced as in "_ah_" and preceded by _l_--that is to say, _lä_--makes an admirable vowel-sound and syllable on which to begin training the voice. the vowel-sound alone is too open. an absolutely pure tone can be produced upon it, but it will lack color. it will be a pure tone, but otherwise uninteresting. with the consonant added, it obtains color and gains interest. voice is indebted in an amazing degree to the consonants. sing the phrase "i love you," and put the emphasis on "you," which, for practical purposes, is a pure vowel-sound. the emotional vocal effect will not be nearly so great as when the emphasis is put on "love" in which the vowel _o_ is colored by the consonant _l_. this can be explained physiologically. all vowels primarily are made in the larynx by the vocal cords. the _coup de glotte_ really is the process of vowel-making without the aid of consonants. this process of vowel-making is so smooth and open that a succession of legato vowel-sounds can be produced with only one stroke of the glottis, the vowel sounds flowing into each other, or each, seemingly, issuing from the other. consonants are formed within the upper cavity of resonance, the mouth, some by the tongue alone, some by the combined action of tongue and lips. voice-color being largely determined by the resonance-cavities, the articulation of consonants in the resonance-cavity of the mouth covers the open process of vowel-formation and gives color to the resultant word and tone. thus, when "love" is sung, although _l_ is not a strong consonant but one of a small group called subvocals, it is sufficient to cover and color the open _o_ production. the easy singing range of each individual voice usually is about identical with the pitch of its possessor's speaking voice. training should begin with the highest tone of the easy singing range. the reason for this is that the higher tone requires a certain muscular tension which places the singer, so to speak, on the _qui vive_ to the importance of the task before him; whereas the greater relaxation on the lower notes might cause him to regard the problem as too easy. at the same time the higher note, still lying within the easy singing range, does not call for a strain but simply acts as a spur. kofler gives six examples of easy singing ranges for as many voice-divisions, and adds to each the qualification "more or less," thus allowing for differences in individual voices. his easy singing ranges are as follows: [music: soprano: g -e more or less mezzo-soprano: e -d " " " alto: d -c " " " tenor: e -e " " " baritone: c -c " " " bass: a -a " " "] reference having been made to vowels and consonants, it seems proper to add at this point something about diction in singing. the interpretation of a song is tone-production applied to the emotional significance of words. there seems little reason to doubt that the old italian masters sacrificed many things, clarity of diction included, to beauty of tone. this they placed above everything. true, beauty of tone is the first essential of artistic singing, but it is not the only essential. if song is speech vitalized by music, then speech, the words to which music is set, has some claim to consideration. in fact, the singer's diction should convey the import of the spoken word with the added emotional eloquence of music. indeed, even some of the earliest italians recognized this. caccini, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, broke away from the contrapuntal music of the church because it made the words unintelligible. tosi, who published a vocal method in , a little less than a century and a quarter after caccini's declaration, still insisted on the importance of clear diction. "singers should not forget the fact," he wrote, "that it is the words which elevate them above instrumentalists." but with the introduction into italian music of florid ornamentation, which of itself made the words more or less unintelligible, they lost their due importance, until, as many an old opera-goer still can testify, a tenor like brignoli could, without protest, habitually allow himself the liberty of substituting "la" for the words on all high notes and phrases, simply because he found it easier to sing them on that syllable. at song recitals, the words of the songs often are printed on the programmes. printed translations of words sung in foreign languages serve an obviously useful purpose. but when an english-speaking singer prints the words of english songs on his programme, it virtually is a confession that he does not expect his hearers to understand what he is singing to them in their own language--so rooted in singers has become the evil of indistinct pronunciation. their songs are songs without words. however, there has been an improvement in this respect. the old-time opera libretto was so stupid that voltaire was justified in saying, "what is too stupid to be spoken is sung." but with wagner the importance of making the words clear to the hearer was recognized, and since his works have established themselves in the repertory of the operatic stage, and modern opera composers, following in his footsteps, have striven to write music that would express the dramatic significance of the words to which it is composed, the art of libretto construction has greatly improved, and composers demand that the singer shall convey to his audience some idea of what is being sung. similar progress has been made in song-composing and song-interpretation. just as the italians formerly strove mainly for beautiful tone-production without much thought of the underlying word or phrase, so song-composers strove for beautiful melody--for music that was satisfying in itself, whether it suited the verbal phrase or not. now, as in opera so in song, the relationship between words and music is recognized and the importance of combined verbal and musical phraseology is insisted upon. formerly, interpretation was a matter of emotion only. now, the intellectual process, the intelligence that discriminates, the thought that justifies the singer's emotional expression as that fitted to the words, are weighed in the balance. consequently the word must be clearly pronounced by the singer. vowel enunciation and consonant articulation--pronunciation being a combination of these two processes--must be distinct, or rather should be distinct, since there still is much fault to be found with singers in this respect. much has been said, especially by american singers, about english being a poor language for song. i think this is a survival of the time when song instruction in this country largely was in the hands of foreigners, mainly italians. naturally they preferred their own language, and naturally they failed to appreciate the genius of english. it is true, as kofler says, that the italian language presents few difficulties to the singer. in it, pure vowels predominate and consonants are in the minority, and even then many of these consonants are vocal, while the hard aspirates of other languages, especially german and english, are unknown to italian lips. but that which is easier, by no means is always the most artistic. ease rarely leads to depth. and this ease of pronunciation may account for a lack of dramatic grandeur and vigor in italian and for the italian's method of tonal emphasis and vehemence of gesture. "the german or the english artist has no need for such extravagances, because the immense richness of these languages--the great variety of vowels and the vigorous aspirated elements--gives to his utterance a dramatic freshness and force which are life and nature itself. "the english language is probably the one that has been described by foreigners as the most unfit for singing. greater calumny has never been uttered. i contend for just the opposite: that english is the very best language for an artistic singer to use, for it contains the greatest variety of vocal and aspirate elements, which afford an artistic singer the strongest, most natural and expressive means of dramatic reality. the english language has all the pure vowels and vocal consonants of the italian; and, besides, it is full of rich elements, mixed vowels, diphthongs and an army of vigorous aspirates. i admit that it is not as easy for singing as italian is; but just here its true merit and advantage arise. the difficulties thus forced upon the singer compel him to study deeply and perseveringly; but the treasures thus unearthed and placed within his reach will amply repay for hard work. my advice to american students is: study your own language thoroughly, and practise its difficult articulation with the utmost fidelity. if once you find the application of its forces to dramatic expression, you will like it for singing as well as i do. but never forget that the appreciation of a science comes only from a thorough mastery of it." the truth of the matter is, that each language has its own peculiar genius for song, and that a vocal composer unconsciously is under the influence of his native language. italian music is as smooth as the italian tongue; french music has the elegance of the french language; german the ruggedness of the german; and the music of english composers also partakes of the characteristics of the language. the highly trained modern singer should be a linguist as well as a vocalist. as for the amalgamation of the spoken word with the sung tone--that again is a matter of unconscious adjustment of the vocal tract; and, not to word and tone separately, but a single adjustment to what i may call "the word-tone." chapter x hygiene of the voice i should say that no one should be more scrupulous in his habits than the singer. it is more difficult to keep the keen edge of the voice in good repair than that of the sharpest razor, and nothing should be done to dull it. no one more than the singer requires to observe the moral and physical laws. the singer should always be in training, always in the pink of condition. by nature, women should be more subject to impairment of voice than men. but they are not. they are brought up to take better care of themselves and, to put it bluntly, to behave themselves better. as a result, in spite of recurring disorders, they stand up and do the work demanded of them when men do not or cannot. every pupil should be instructed to fall naturally into an attitude of attention when coming into the presence of the teacher--as much so as in the presence of a distinguished host or hostess. _morale, esprit de corps_, cannot be instilled too soon. they may well be considered psychical elements in general vocal hygiene. personal cleanliness is, of course, one of the first requisites to health. but, while bathing should be regular, it should not be extreme. a cold bath stimulates at first, but is followed by a bad reaction in a few hours. a hot bath, followed by exposure to the open air or a draught, is apt to develop a cold by night. i recommend for singers a lukewarm bath. when singers have had their hair cut, they should watch themselves carefully for the next twenty-four hours. if possible, they should have it cut shortly before going to bed and should protect the head with a light hood. some singers catch cold every time they have their hair cut, and bald-headed singers always are catching cold. and while on this subject, it cannot be stated emphatically enough that any hair tonic that stimulates the scalp too much is bad. the glands in the scalp absorb the lead, cantharides, cayenne pepper, or whatever the specific poison in the tonic may be; this is carried to the respiratory tract, and creates the symptoms of a cold. singers are not apt to take much exercise. for this reason they should be careful in their diet. they should avoid beef, lamb and mutton. the white meat of fowl is the best meat diet for the vocalist. milk, eggs, toasted bread, string beans, spinach, lettuce, rice and barley are excellent. potatoes should be mashed, with milk and butter. fruit is better taken stewed and with little sugar. ice cream clears the voice for about twenty minutes, but the reaction is bad. regarding tea and coffee, inasmuch as a singer is not a cat on a back fence, but a human being, there is no reason why he should not be permitted to follow the social law in respect to these, provided he is not a sufferer from indigestion. in fact, there are times when a cup of coffee taken at the right moment will carry a singer, tired from travel or other cause, over a crisis. there can be no harm in a cup of coffee (java and mocha mixed), a cup of phillip's digestible cocoa, or a cup of tea (oolong or tetley's ceylon) for the singer who is in good condition. i always have held that a singer could drink a small quantity of alcohol--claret, for example--if he takes with it enough lithia or other alkaline water to counteract the acid in the wine. smoking, however, is very injurious. a famous tenor of to-day whispered during a performance in the metropolitan opera house to the prima donna in the cast, "i smoked too many cigarettes yesterday; i feel it in my voice." myron w. whitney always left off smoking for two weeks before the worcester festival. for travel the singer should be prepared for atmospheric changes as no one else in the world. he should be especially cautious at night. a singer who filled an engagement in savannah started from there for the north at night. he had been in perfect voice. as the night was warm he left one of the windows of his berth open. at washington he woke up with cold. it was snowing, and snow had come in through the open window on to his berth. his nose was "stuffed." he had no voice when he reached new york. this was due to the sudden intensification of all the things that belong to a cold. if he had worn a dressing-gown with a hood--not necessarily a heavy one--that would have saved him. a garment of that kind should be worn by singers at night when traveling. they can regulate the bed-covering accordingly, so as not to be too warm. clothing should give correct aeration for the season. silk underclothing i regard as dangerous, because silk is a non-conductor. good lisle thread or flannel giving proper aeration is excellent. no one should be more careful about their clothing than new yorkers, because of the sudden changes in temperature there. stiff, high collars are injurious, because they are irritants to blood-vessels and nerves and are non-conductors. collars should be worn from a quarter to half an inch away from the skin, for the less the adam's apple--the highest forward point of the larynx--is irritated, the better. there are certain periods of the year and even one special day when singers should especially look out for their voices. from january th- th is the period of january thaw and of colds from melting snow. from march th- th the earth is beginning to ferment and this is a period for spring fever and intestinal troubles, which indirectly affect the voice. may th usually is cold and rainy. the latter part of may and nearly all june, rose cold or june cold is prevalent. about august st come the dog days and hay fever. in fact, from august st until the autumnal equinox is an anxious time for the singer. from november th- th there is apt to be alternate cold and warm weather conducive to asthma. with the singer, more even than with any one else, the ounce of prevention is the pound of cure. the first sneeze should send the singer to his physician; and he also should realize--as only too few people do--that after a cold nature requires from a week to nine days to repair the damaged processes, and that he should not work too soon. rest is a great cure. one of the most distinguished french laryngologists, dr. g. poyet, was interviewed for the european edition of the n. y. _herald_ on the subject of hygiene for the singer. although what dr. poyet says on some points is a repetition of matters already gone over here, while other points will be more thoroughly gone into than was possible for him in the space at his command, a summary of what this clever man had to say on a subject of such importance to the singer will serve capitally the purpose of this chapter. dr. poyet began by saying that, since the voice has intimate relationship with the entire organism, it follows that a well-understood hygiene should concern the totality of the functions. first of all, it is indispensable to avoid any cause of disturbance of the circulation, and particularly of the pulmonary functions. "the singer, as much as possible, should inhabit sufficiently large apartments. he should avoid rooms warmed by apparatus which may produce carbonic acid or which remove from the air the watery vapor it contains normally. every day on rising he should practise exercises in deep breathing and, if possible, some of the gymnastic exercises which it is possible to practise in a room. walking is undoubtedly the best exercise, and every singer who is careful of the soundness of his lungs--which is equivalent to the soundness of his voice--should walk for an hour every morning before his repast." (this advice of dr. poyet can hardly be taken literally, and should be determined largely by the physique of the individual.) in order to avoid colds, bronchitis, sore throat, catarrhal laryngitis, the singer should regulate in a fitting manner the thickness of his clothing in accordance with the prevailing temperature. if by misfortune he catches cold, a little laryngitis, a coryza, all of which cause hoarseness, he should immediately abstain from singing. neglect of this rule may bring about the persistence of vocal accidents often very long in curing. it is because professional singers cannot interrupt their work in such cases that they more often than any others suffer from laryngitis and above all in the so dangerous form of chronic inflammation of the vocal cords, which determines the deplorable "singers' nodules." the cutaneous secretions should be watched in persons who have need of a clear voice. almost all catarrhal affections of the respiratory organs are due to chills. advice is therefore given to every person who has practised violent singing-exercises, which cause perspiration, immediately to change his clothing after having been rubbed down with a horsehair glove or with flannel sprinkled with alcohol. like the respiration, the alimentation ought to be watched by the singer. as much as possible during the process of digestion no violent or prolonged singing-exercise should be undertaken. digestive troubles are often the cause of deterioration of the voice, either because the swelling and distension of the stomach by gas trammels the play of the diaphragm, and consequently that of the lungs, or because intestinal troubles bring on constipation or diarrhoea. very nutritive and very digestible food should be chosen for a singer, and a mixed alimentation should be employed. among drinks preference should be given to wine and beer. alcoholic liquors, dr. poyet thinks, should be absolutely forbidden. however, he advises a singer in the course of a fatiguing performance sometimes to moisten the throat with, and even to take a few mouthfuls of, cold water, to which has been added a little old cognac or "vin de coca"; but never, on any account, to take an iced drink just after singing. everybody who sings ought first to observe in the strictest manner the rules of general hygiene. thanks to this hygiene it is possible completely to develop all the faculties of the larynx and to regulate the voice in such manner as to assure its regular operation. general hygiene, moreover, will permit the singer to preserve himself from the external influences which may bring about aphony or dysphony, that is, loss of voice or difficulty of voice. a person who sings should always assume a natural attitude, since this aids the play of the respiratory organs. this play should be mixed, that is to say, costal and diaphragmatic. the respiration should be well regulated. the singer ought never to take too sudden inspirations, for he would thus run the risk of rapidly irritating the vocal cords. when it is a question of vocal exercises, one always should proceed from the simple to the complex, taking care not to prolong the exercises at the beginning. that is, the first singing-exercises should not be too prolonged. moreover, in these first exercises the singer should never attempt to attain the extreme notes of his vocal range. the exercises should lie in the middle register. keen impressions, whether of joy or pain, are, in dr. poyet's opinion, bad for the voice. great fear may cause a passing but instantaneous loss of voice. "vox faucibus hæsit." the emotion of singing in public, as everyone knows, prevents many artists from showing their full capacity. only custom, and sometimes reasoning, can free them from "stage-fright." people who sing, and who desire to preserve the integrity of their voice, should abstain from smoking. because some singers--faure, in particular--have had a brilliant career despite the inveterate use of tobacco, there is no reason that this example should be followed. tobacco irritates the pharynx, reddens the vocal cords, and may cause heart troubles harmful to singing. pungent scents should be proscribed for singers. the odors of some flowers are for certain artists the cause of persistent hoarseness. mme. carvalho could not endure the scent of violets, which instantly caused her to lose her voice. scents often determine a rapid congestion of the mucous membrane of the nose to such an extent that in certain persons they cause veritable attacks of asthma. dr. poyet also puts singers on their guard against scented toilet powder. "i knew," he says, "a great singer who was obliged to renounce the use of the toilet powder called 'à la maréchale.'" in ending the interview, he calls attention to the fact that the larynx, while very delicate, is an extremely resistant organ, since it can face fatigues that no other human organ could support; but because it shows signs of fatigue only by hoarseness, is no reason to call on it for too prolonged efforts. "to work two hours a day, either in study or in singing, seems to me a maximum that should not be overstepped by a person careful of his vocal health." another distinguished foreign specialist is dr. n. j. poock van baggen, of the hague, holland, who has contributed to the _medical record_ a series of articles on throat diseases caused by misuse of the voice, and their cure.[a] [footnote a: these articles have been reprinted in four slim but interesting pamphlets published by william wood & co., new york.] clergyman's sore throat, as dr. van baggen says, is a disease known to every throat specialist. "it is produced by misuse of the voice, and the same disease, often in more aggravated form, is produced in the singer and by the same cause. the patient, after singing, will experience a dry and hot feeling in the pharynx and larynx, irritation, and a frequent cough. examination of the patient discloses catarrh of the pharynx and of the larynx; congested and swollen mucous membrane; pillars of the fauces swollen and unduly developed; all these symptoms accompanied by paresis of the vocal cords, which are red or yellow and do not approximate well. to this paresis of the cords is united a paresis of certain muscles of the larynx; to which is added, in serious cases, a swelling of the aryepiglottic ligament." that this disorder is not organic, but functional--not caused by enlarged tonsils, adenoids, nasal polypus or malformation of the tongue, but by misuse of the voice--can be proved by the beneficial effect produced upon the organs by complete rest from singing; the symptoms sometimes disappearing entirely, only to reappear, however, when singing is resumed--further proof that misuse of the voice is at the root of the evil. "dividing the muscles into those used in breathing, in articulation of consonants and in vowel enunciation, the physician will find that in his patient there is no proper coördination between these three groups of muscles--that through faulty respiration and articulation the respiratory and articular muscles fail to support sufficiently the vocal muscles, with the result that the vibration of the vocal cords is weakened. one fault begets another. the faulty use of the respiratory muscles directs the vibrating air-column to the soft palate, where the tone is so smothered that the singer has to over-exert himself to be heard, instead of directing it against the hard palate, where it would gain vibrance and carrying quality." the faulty use of the muscles of articulation is disclosed when the back of the tongue rises like a flabby partition between the opening of the mouth and the pharynx, the consonants being formed thereby far back in the mouth, instead of forward with the tip or middle of the tongue leaning against the hard palate. the articulation is, in consequence, thick and dull. the vocal muscles are contracted to an unnatural degree, and every vocal tone is accompanied by an audible shock or spasm of the glottis. all this adds to the exertion required of the singer to make himself heard, an exertion and strain which eventually result in the symptoms that have been described, and which most singers believe due to colds and other troubles, whereas they are the result of the singer's own misuse of his voice. i have said that correct breathing is one of the fundamentals of correct voice-production. no wonder, therefore, that incorrect breathing is one of the most potent factors in the misuse of the voice that sends the singer as a patient to the physician. i have stated that there are three kinds of breathing--clavicular, costal and diaphragmatic; and these have been described. it has also been pointed out that the teacher who instructs in one kind of breathing to the exclusion of the other two makes a serious mistake. for in correct breathing, all three are coördinated. usually it is spoken of as mixed costal and diaphragmatic. in truth, however, it is mixed costal, diaphragmatic and clavicular; but, aside from the awkwardness of combining all three terms in characterizing correct breathing, the clavicles play a less important part in it than the diaphragm and the ribs. in their relative importance to correct breathing the diaphragm comes first, the ribs next and then the clavicles. i feel certain that dr. poyet means the coördination of the three when he speaks of mixed costal and diaphragmatic breathing, and that dr. van baggen also means this when he speaks of diaphragmatic breathing. in fact, his description of diaphragmatic breathing involves the ribs; and if he omits mention of the clavicles, this may be explained by the slight part they play in correct breathing, merely topping off, as it were, the action of diaphragm and ribs. dr. van baggen, in the breathing-exercises which he describes as beneficial for restoring a voice impaired by misuse, lays emphasis on the control of expiration and on the brief retention of the breath before exhaling it. in his first exercise the abdomen is pushed forward and contracted, the idea of breathing being excluded in order to concentrate attention upon making the movements correctly. the second exercise consists of these same movements, but now combined with inspiration and expiration through the nostrils. when first started, the exercises are limited to a few minutes four or five times a day. when this method of breathing has become natural to the patient, there is added the brief retention of the breath and expiration under control--that is, gradual expiration. this constitutes the third exercise. in this it is recommended to inhale slowly through the mouth, which should be in position to pronounce _f_, that is, not too open. hold the breath while mentally counting three. exhale, pronouncing a prolonged _s_ and finishing on _t_. the pronunciation of _f_ during inhalation and of _s_ and _t_ during exhalation is advised in order to provide evidence that inhalation and exhalation are carried out evenly and without shaking or breaks. built upon this is the exercise for teaching the vocalist to inhale quickly, hold his breath a brief space, and exhale as slowly as possible, as must be done in singing. the inspiration now is through the nostrils; the pause is not quite so long, but the expiration on _s_ and _t_ is longer--say as mentally counting would compare with counting . whoever has read carefully the chapters on breathing in this book will have discovered by this time that the breathing-exercises just described lead up to the principles of artistic breathing set forth in those chapters; and that whoever has read them and will carry them out never will require breathing-exercises to correct misuse of the voice from that source, because his breathing will be absolutely correct. the same is true of the exercises given by dr. van baggen to make the breathing-muscles coöperate with the articulation and vocal muscles. nevertheless, since there are people who do not read carefully, or who go along in the same old faulty way until brought up suddenly by the dire effects of misusing the voice, i may add that dr. van baggen's exercises for articulation will be found in detail in the pamphlets mentioned. when a singer who is suffering from misuse of the voice comes to a specialist for treatment, the specialist must for the moment become a singing-teacher and instruct the singer in the artistic coördination of breathing, articulation and vocal muscles. the patient, having gained proper breath-control and having had impressed upon him the importance of forward placement and of the normal position of the tongue to correct articulation of consonants, is ready for correction of the faulty action of the vocal cords. this faulty action is due chiefly to faulty attack--a faulty _coup de glotte_--manifest mainly on initial vowels in an audible stroke, shock or check and in the emission of unvocalized breath. this latter is the so-called _spiritus asper_, because the emission of unvocalized breath which precedes phonation gives an aspirated or _h_ sound, so that, instead of _ah_, we hear _haa_. the _spiritus asper_ is caused by a too slow contraction of the vocal cords and their too gradual approach for phonation. in the audible shock of the glottis (sometimes called the "check glottid") the vocal cords are pressed together and the retained breath causes a shock or explosion. dr. van baggen says that the vowel which is thus formed might be called an articulated vowel, which accurately describes the effect, the vowel being enunciated with the circumstance of the articulated consonant instead of with the ease of the phonated vowel. with a normal attack--the _spiritus lenis_ in contradistinction to the _spiritus asper_--the glottis is in position for phonation at the moment breath passes through it. no unvocalized breath precedes it and no explosion follows it. the vowel-attack is clear, precise and distinct. not only is the voice-emission pure, but there is no needless fatigue of voice, because all superfluous movement of the glottis is avoided. the "check glottid" or glottic shock, on the other hand, involves an undue effort of the vocal muscles, and the compression of the vocal cords causes irritation. the audible shock of the glottis cannot be avoided when it is necessary to accentuate a word beginning with an initial vowel. constantly used, however, it is part of the misuse of the voice. dr. van baggen recommends, as a method of correcting the too frequent use of the audible shock, that when a word beginning with an initial vowel appears in the middle of a phrase, this word should be united to the preceding one, somewhat after the manner (but more lightly) of the french verbal "liaison," in which the final consonant of a word becomes the initial consonant of the following word beginning with a vowel. for example in "vous avez," the _s_ of "vous" is drawn over to and pronounced with the _a_ of "avez," the effect being "vou-z-avez." if the phrase that is to be sung commences with a word beginning with an initial vowel, care must be taken to employ the normal _coup de glotte_, or _spiritus lenis_. although i have devoted two chapters to the registers of the voice, i shall also quote dr. van baggen on the faulty use of these and the physical ills that result therefrom, since there are but few singers who do not know the difficulties which the registers of the voice offer; and many who spoil their voices forever by the misuse of those registers. generally, the misuse consists in the exaggeration of a lower register at the expense of the higher; that is, in order to produce "big tone," forcing a register _up_ instead of bringing the higher one _down_. especially with dramatic singers, this fault is frequent. there is no voice, however strong it may be, which can endure this overstraining of the registers, and sooner or later the singer must experience the disastrous results of his or her fault--hoarseness, fatigue, roughness, and impureness in singing, and last, but not least, premature wearing out of the vocal organs. the exaggeration of the registers is generally united with faulty breathing, which first of all must be corrected. only after good results have been obtained with regard to breath practice, can exercises for the correction of the use of the registers be made with success. when the fault consists in the exaggeration of the low register, the singing in this register must be avoided for some time; when both the low and middle registers have been used beyond their limit, exercises can at first be sung only in the high register. the pupil, while practising (in the first case in the middle and high register, in the second only in the high register), must limit himself to a few tones, singing always downwards and very softly. the tones will be weak, husky, and often impure in the beginning; by and by, however, they will improve. when those few tones are pure and clear, the pupil may extend the exercises downwards, always singing _pianissimo_ and avoiding the lower register. the high and middle registers, or only the high register, must be extended downwards as far as possible. only after all the tones, sung as indicated, are clear and pure and have gained sufficiently in strength, may the low or the low and middle registers be used again, but even then not more than is strictly necessary. the extending downwards of a higher register is also an excellent help in smoothing out the break in the voice at the passage from one register to the other. this extending downwards of the higher registers always can be done without any danger to the voice. the "timbre" of the voice will even gain considerably in brilliancy and fullness by exercising in this way. closely united to the stretching and relaxing of the vocal ligaments is the moving up and down of the larynx. many believe that the larynx must be kept as motionless as possible and in a low position. the large number of voices which have been spoilt by this unnatural fixed position of the voice-box are a manifest proof of the evil of this way of operating, against which every singer must be warned. the larynx must be completely free in its movement, its positions varying according to each tone and to the pronunciation of each vowel. we can easily follow the movement of the larynx by laying the finger on the prominence in the throat formed by the junction of the two wings of the thyroid cartilage, commonly called "adam's apple." when pronouncing successively "oo, ow, oh, ah, eh, ay, ee," we shall notice that the voice-box rises and inclines slightly backwards; and, while at "oo" its position is lowest, it is highest at "ee." also when singing upwards we feel the larynx going up, while the inclination backwards can be observed even better than when pronouncing the vowels. especially when singing a high tone after a low one we can feel how considerably the position of the larynx changes, and it is clear that every obstruction in its movement hinders normal voice-production. when examining the patient the physician should observe the action of the larynx and feel if there are no spasmodic movements and if the flexibility is satisfactory. the action of the larynx can be exercised and improved by singing seconds, thirds, etc. the keynote always may be sung on _oo_; the second, third, etc., on _ee_. chapter xi more vocal hygiene vocal hygiene is a specific system based upon well-regulated principles for a specific purpose and applying to a specific class in the family of nations. but there is the difference that, whereas the laws governing the general health of the community have legislative sanction and are strenuously enforced by official authority, the laws of vocal hygiene bear no seal of state or municipal power, save in the broadly general sense indicated, but rely for enforcement upon the individual who is most nearly involved, and who must pay swift penalty for any infringement, however slight and however innocently committed. while this is a truism, yet it cannot be too strongly emphasized nor too often reiterated; for with all their notable precautions, singers are often taken unawares and fall when most they desire to stand. why? they are simply paying the penalty of a broken law, and it does not help them with a disappointed club committee, or in framing a telegram of regret, accompanied by a physician's certificate, to say that they have erred through ignorance. the aphorism that ignorance of the law is no excuse is just as valid in the court of the hygienic judge as in any common law court between the oceans. it is the prevalent practice to use the physician as the court of last resort. but it would be vastly better and far more sensible if the singer could be made to act with swift authority as an agent of prevention over the weaknesses of his or her own nature. the subject, thereby, would be vastly simplified. it would not be so profitable to the specialist; but i can vouch for it that he would not only forgive, but praise the discretion of his patient, and lend all possible aid to educate him along a new scientific path--that of prevention. not a new path, either, for in its last analysis what is hygiene but the science of prevention? preservation of health means the prevention of disease. this answers the cry of every artist's heart, especially that of the vocal artist, teacher and student: how can i prevent disease and weakness of the vocal machinery? briefly and plainly: how can i keep well? in this important matter of vocal hygiene a prominent part is played by the mucous membrane. what is the mucous membrane? it is the membrane which in this special sense covers or lines the respiratory tract from the very outlet of the nose to the terminal bronchi; in fact, to the very air-cells of the lungs themselves. its function is that of supplying the involved passages with moisture, and it secretes a glairy or watery substance called mucus. now, mark this well. the entire area of the respiratory tract, from the nose to the bifurcation of the bronchi, it is said on good authority equals one square foot of exposed surface, and the amount of secretion per day equals about sixteen fluid ounces, or a pint, which must be secreted by a person in the normal condition of health. it also has the power of absorption of certain diverse substances, such as alkaloids, fluids of all kinds, hence the danger of alcoholic indulgence to the singer. alcohol coagulates. it causes the epithelium to contract and to become so disintegrated as to be utterly incapable of performing its functions until such time as the underlying tissue shall have created new cells to take the place of those which have been destroyed. to illustrate briefly the varied functions of this membrane: whereas alcoholic stimulant destroys it, another powerful drug, cocaine, is absorbed, often to such an extent that the patient is prostrated by the poison introduced into the system by this means, and yet without impairing the membrane to any extent except through persistent indulgence. the mucous membrane is the telltale of conditions. if a man's tongue is coated with detritus--which, anglicized, is nothing more than the products of decomposition, a coating formed by over-stimulation of the glands lying at the base of the tongue--and this has been previously superinduced by a disordered stomach, we know that the cause is indigestion. if the follicles in the back part of the pharynx or throat appear distended, and even the tonsils themselves are affected--and these again are part and parcel of this same mucous membrane--we can say this is due to one of several causes: either to a reflex condition from the stomach, due to over-eating or over-indulgence of some other equally deleterious sort, or to inactivity of the bowels, or to suppressed perspiration, or to improper or undue use of the vocal organs. again, let us glance for a moment at what a good many people deem a superfluous appendage, the uvula. a patient comes into my office with a badly swollen uvula. the upper tones of the voice are gone. he has no complicating quinsy, and in that case i can say without hesitation that he has outrageously misused his voice. i ask him where he was the previous afternoon, and find he was jubilantly "rooting" for the new york giants in an exciting baseball contest. now, it in nowise lessens the force of my illustration that this patient was not a singer and did not acquire, if you please, his swollen uvula in orthodox fashion. it is only a short time ago that a man came to me with a pronounced case of oedematous uvula, or swollen soft palate. he announced to me that he was no longer a tenor singer, although he had sung tenor for three years; that lately he had been persuaded that his voice was baritone; and, indeed, he had been singing, up to the time of coming to me, a baritone part in opera. it was this which brought him under my hand as a patient. he had changed his teacher, who had insisted that he was a tenor, within two months, and since that time had been under the instruction of the master who had declared that he was a baritone. i had known him for some time, and the only perceptible change to me in the voice was a decided tendency to cover and sombre the upper tones. upon examination, the only thing abnormal was the condition of the soft palate and the surrounding tissue extending down both pharyngeal pillars. the soft palate was swollen to nearly three times its original size and hung down upon the tongue. the symptoms he complained of were inability to sing above f, and all high tones were husky. the production of the upper tones was accompanied with considerable pain. an emollient gargle was given and, soon after, astringent applications; but in vain. it was necessary three weeks afterward to amputate the uvula. within three weeks more the operation was demonstrated a success in that the upper tones were fully restored; but i leave the question with the teachers whether this operation would have been necessary had not this young tenor been drawn aside on the purely theoretical issue as to whether he was not a baritone instead. in the case of one of new york's most experienced singers, it required two years of persistent effort on the part of both patient and physician to overcome the habits of a lifetime. the case is of general importance for the reason that the habits he had formed are more or less common to all of us, though perhaps not to such an aggravated degree. he was an inveterate smoker and a confirmed coffee drinker. these habits reflected themselves upon the poor, defenceless mucous membrane, whose function was perverted as shown in the constantly congested appearance of the respiratory tract. i have seen this artist with congested vocal cords rehearse an oratorio in the afternoon at a public rehearsal and sing the same work in the evening at the regular concert performance, when, to use his own words, "i feel as if every note will be my last. i have no grip on my voice." it was a clear case of indomitable will and sheer physical strength carrying the singer over obstacles that even to my mind seemed well-nigh insurmountable. a cure was effected in this obstinate case simply by insisting upon observance of hygienic law. there is no better instance of efficacy of vocal hygiene than in the case of this man. the gradual reassertion of nature, as indicated by the clearing up of the inflamed mucous membrane of the nose, the thickened condition of the pharynx and the chronically congested cords, was an all-sufficient reward for anxious thought spent upon an important subject. you may ask what was the remedy in this case. it was simply advice given and heeded, together with needed incidental treatment. i cut off his coffee and cigars, not immediately but gradually. he had sufficient force of character to aid me by heeding the counsel. the result was a diminution of secretion of the mucous membrane and a return to normal conditions. right here there is another phase of the situation to which i desire to call particular attention, not alone because of its vital importance to the singer, but also because of the danger to the unschooled student of neglect of what we ordinarily term a cold in the head in its first stages. by the first stage of the cold i mean that condition which obtains before the stage of secretion is arrived at, where the mucous membrane is being congested, where it is almost impossible to distinguish what is the highest point of normal stimulation under which the membrane may be expected to do its best work. this point may be aptly illustrated by comparison with a singer under perfectly normal conditions. then, as is well known, it is the mental impulse that stimulates nerve, muscle and membrane to do their best work. but in the other condition this result is attained without the mental impulse, as we have the mucous membrane and the blood-vessels carried to a temporary climax of effectiveness due to the systemic disturbance. by this i wish to make clear my point, that artists have often noticed an unusual brilliancy of voice under circumstances which were all the more mysterious because of the sudden collapse of the vocal organ under stress of use, and the alarming suddenness of the catastrophe which overtakes them and leaves them totally incapacitated. then they say, "i have a cold;" whereas it requires from twenty-four to thirty-six hours for the fulfilment of these conditions. they should have reached this sensible conclusion just two days before. i take issue with those physicians who urge that certain exercises should be given to the artist when the vocal cords are in a state of congestion, for the reason that it requires a period of from ten to fourteen days for the complete relief of this inflammation. during that period, the blood-vessels are fully employed absorbing the products of the inflammation, and any attempt to interfere with this necessary process of nature can end only in disaster or in a prolongation of the difficulty. this is the law of pathology, unalterable and not to be evaded. physicians at times resort to soothing and astringent applications in an emergency, to carry the artist through a performance; but the lack of edge to the voice for weeks following is an all-sufficient indication of the revenge nature takes for this trespass upon her domain. the cause of the sudden disaster to the voice which i have described is not far to seek. the cold has caused over-stimulation of the mucous membrane of the larynx, and a consequent loss of voice. this cold begins in the head, and on the third day, perhaps before, it has attacked the larynx. why? because the mucous membrane has become so swollen that the nasal passages are obstructed and the mucous membrane of the larynx has to perform a double function, that of heating the air as it is brought to the lungs in the process of respiration, as well as carrying out its own obligation to the scheme of nature. by a strange coincidence, this membrane of the larynx is supplied with sensation by the same nerve that conveys motion to one of its tensor muscles. this is the superior laryngeal nerve. by the thickening of the mucous membrane, all the intrinsic muscles of the larynx are interfered with, and, consequently, total extinction of the voice follows swiftly upon excessive inflammation. there you have it in a nutshell. the mucous membrane of the larynx and the bronchial tubes, to enlarge upon its duty for a moment, is endowed with very fine, hair-like processes called cilia, whose action is to waft secretions from the interior of the lungs outward. hence the danger of promiscuous spraying with all sorts of everyday nostrums, or of anything which may interfere with the activity of these minute bodies or the media in which they operate. this intimate relation of nerve and muscle and mucous membrane is best illustrated by the sneeze. the explanation of this is an over-stimulation of a part of the mucous membrane of the nose called the schneiderian membrane. if we analyze the sneeze, we find that it simply consists of a spasm of the pharynx, larynx and diaphragm through the reflex action of this membrane. the over-stimulation of the membrane, in the case of the singer especially, may generally be set down to an incipient cold; but any inflammation of this part of the mucous membrane of the nose alone may give rise in reflex action to vocal disability. there are some peculiarly interesting isolated instances of disturbance of the vocal mechanism, which are unique in that, while apparently harmless and uninteresting from the standpoint of even the specialist, they have, on occasions, developed most alarming influence over the voice. they have no precedent; experience alone can determine their influence for evil. they are not a matter of record, they are simply études, interesting studies in the bypaths of vocal hygiene, and must be dealt with as they appear. an exceptional example was one wherein the voice of the singer was perfectly even except as to the g sharp in the medium, which was entirely wanting--as though it had never existed. the singer in question came to me after an easter rehearsal. i tried her voice with the e-scale before using the laryngeal mirror, and to my utter surprise found the medium g sharp missing, while all the rest of her scale was perfect even to the g sharp above. this experiment was tried repeatedly with the vowels _a_, _e_, _i_, _o_, and _u_, and with consonants prefixed, but invariably with the same result. upon examination, no deviation from the normal anatomy was found, save in the left anterior nostril. here a sharp spur of bone projected from the septum into the turbinated tissue. this condition had remained in this singer for four years, according to my previous observation, without causing her any inconvenience. a similar condition was seen by me in the case of mr. santley, the famous english baritone, when i made an examination, and he declared that he was not aware of its producing even discomfort--such a capital illustration of the necessity for non-interference until the laws of reflexes are disturbed, that i cannot refrain from alluding to it. in my patient, however, in addition to her nasal trouble, i found an enlarged follicle about the size of a pea back of the posterior pillar of the pharynx, at the junction of posterior pillar and pharynx. this follicle was removed by a simple process, when, as if by magic, the g sharp responded and has since remained unimpaired. my explanation of this case is simply one of reflex action; that is, by a singular complication this follicle fell in the track of the glosso-pharyngeal, the pharyngeal-plexus, the external-laryngeal and the recurrent laryngeal nerves, which, as it were, sounded the alarm for retreat of the phonating muscles whose harmonious action was necessary to produce the medium g sharp. there are numerous instances of affections of the vocal cords that might be cited, all superinduced by straining the voice from various causes, but especially by using the voice under improper physical conditions or of singing in rooms filled with foul atmosphere. chapter xii nodes and their cure i use the scale of e as a means of revealing to the ear points wherein the voice shows signs of failure. i use this scale because within it lie all the principal resonances involved in voice-production. by this i mean that somewhere between the interval g# to c# an oral resonance is developed in the majority of voices. this seems to be coincident with the action of the lips, the tongue and the soft palate, and the other muscles that go to increase or to decrease the size of the oral cavity. from c# to e above middle c the principal changes occur which contribute to the development of the nasal resonance. some rare voices, however, continue their oral resonance as high as f# before changing. it has occurred to me so often in the course of my practice that a peculiarly apt reason exists for making e the foundation-note of the test-scale employed in the operating room, that i lay particular stress upon it. it has seemed the most easeful note for the patient to sound, whatever his vocal condition, and i have been tempted to call it the "nature tone," because it may be said to sing itself. at least, it can be sounded with naturally open throat and without calling into perceptible use the multiplied enginery of muscular forces which are required for the formation of the higher tones of the scale. consider for a moment this enginery of muscular forces at the command of the singer, and which his intelligent and ripe knowledge must guide. the muscles used in voice-production may be divided as to action and location into ten groups. in these ten groups there are one hundred and seventeen individual muscles. three of these act alone. one hundred and fourteen act in pairs, making fifty-seven pairs. again, these muscles are controlled by nerves, some of which act alone and others in combination. in one instance, a single nerve presides over two large groups of muscles. then, in still another instance, two separate nerves are required to control the action of one small group--the palate group. the distribution is as follows: single muscles, ; muscles in pairs, ; groups of muscles, ; nerves acting alone, ; nerves acting with others (eight groups), . by taking these figures and increasing them in arithmetical progression, it is possible to calculate what a multiplicity of nerve and muscle effort is involved in a sneeze. everything that appertains to the vocal mechanism is spasmodically involved at once, and the enormous sum total of muscle and nerve movement, individualized, is , . this shows how absurd is the theory of conscious control of the machinery of voice-production. as i have frequently pointed out, the adjustments of the vocal tract to the tone to be produced are responses to the will, physical reflexes of the tones which the singer hears mentally; so that voice is mental audition converted by responsive physical adjustment into audible tone. teachers and singers are aware that wrong methods of tone-production result in nodes on the vocal cords. the node, therefore, is one of the most familiar forms of vocal catastrophe. in its simplest form the node is a superficial swelling on the edge of a vocal cord, sometimes appearing on one and then on the other and ofttimes on both, dependent entirely upon causation. for instance, the cause might be simply a severe spell of coughing, and this, of course, might befall a person who was not a singer at all. it has been known to occur to animals. the node is, in fact, an oedema or dropsy, a swelling from effusion of watery fluid in the cellular tissue beneath the skin or mucous membrane. this oedema appears on the edge of the vocal cord, as a slight tumor or swelling filled with water. if aggravated by continued use of the voice, it may develop and become exceedingly dangerous, by extending inward to the real tissue of the cord itself. the membrane is thickened by the watery secretion, and much the same thing happens as in the case of a pinching bruise or a blistering burn. nature's cure for this state of things is by absorption of the fluid contents and a consequent diminution in the size of the node until finally a normal condition of the cord is restored and the voice returns in all its fullness. in the formation of the node it is worth remarking that the coughing node may appear at any point on the cords. it shows first at one point and then at another. the node caused by vocal weakness or abuse of the natural powers, however, displays an exasperating, and sometimes puzzling, affinity for particular portions of the vocal cords. it is generally found protruding from the anterior and middle third on one or the other side of the glottic opening, or on both, in chronic cases. the other nodes may be found at any place on the cord. in fact, it frequently happens that the coughing node, and what for convenience may be styled the "vocal node," are simultaneously present, each to be distinguished by its well-defined location, although produced by totally different causes. there are cogent reasons for the affinity of the vocal node for certain fixed positions on the cords. they can be explained by the trick of the vibrating string and bit of paper. if the paper is laid upon the string at a certain point, it will be flirted away; while at another chosen point it will slip unagitated to the floor. inasmuch as the vocal cords are subject to the same laws of vibration, the lesson drawn from the string and the bit of paper applies to them, the node taking the place of the paper. note, however, the difference. the string is single, and there is no attrition. if there were two strings, the bit of paper might be caught and twisted in the miniature whirlwind of opposing vibrations. but the vocal cords are wedded in phonation, and by their attrition the node is formed. very often strands of tough mucus appear spanning the chink or slit between the cords when they are drawn up in tone-production. the presence of these bands of mucus is an assured precursor of the node. often they indicate the existence of a node which is hardly perceptible through the laryngeal mirror. the mucus is nature's effort to relieve the attrition, and so to ease the inflammation at the point of difficulty. the obstinacy with which the nodes caused by vocal disaster thus form in the anterior and middle third of the cords may be explained as owing to the presence in the vocal cords of a point which may be called the centre of resistance for the intrinsic muscles, and indicates that they are caused, in the majority of cases, by undue and improper muscular effort in tone-production. consequently, the necessity for the most painstaking care on the singer's part to avoid singing under unfavorable conditions. a trifling over-exertion at an afternoon rehearsal in a cold hall, too much talking on the train, a bad night's rest in a sleeper berth, all may conspire to weaken the voice for the time and lay it open to attack. under such circumstances, particularly, it is necessary for the vocalist to exercise large discretion and to aim for a conservative middle course, and especially so in a preliminary rehearsal. another cause of the node is a lack of cordal coördination. were the human form perfect, both cords would be equally strong. as a matter of fact, in my own experience, i have found that the major portion of nodal formations appear on the left cord, indicating that it is the weaker. the fact that one cord is slightly lax while the other vibrates at full tension along its face causes trouble. another source of difficulty is subglottic, owing to inflammation of the mucous membrane in the trachea, which extends upward and involves the cords. the inflammation, passing upward, may easily affect the voice. such inflammation is discovered by a tickling sensation in the trachea, causing a dry, harsh cough about the third day after a cold has found lodgment "in the head," as the phrase goes. the node has been the cause of vocal catastrophe from opera houses to concert halls, yet a reasonable amount of precaution will minimize the chances of attack. singing in a room where there is smoking is a prolific source of node formation. breathing dust-laden air, continued effort to carry on conversation on the cars or amid street noises, are fruitful causes of vocal disorder. the mucous membrane of the vocal cords obeys natural laws in restoration. a node may disappear in three days, if not teased with effort. more often, however, it requires from seven to ten days for it to disappear without treatment. if the singer foolishly persists in using the voice, the node will extend into the cord tissues, and result in a most unfortunate condition. the cord loses its elasticity. it refuses to respond. it will neither act nor will it consent to be acted upon. it is in a state of collapse, and the voice for singing purposes has gone, never to return. let me illustrate what rest will do for a node. a singer came to me with a node of three months' standing, on the left cord. she had been singing with her teacher in the regular course of her lessons at an unfortunate time, when, too, she was vocally weak. in singing up the scale, and at the c (as nearly as she could remember), she became hoarse, and, as she described it to me, "the voice had a hole in it." throughout the remainder of the lesson, unless she exercised great care, she would always break at the point named. her nose seemed stuffy, and she compared her nose and throat to a cornet lined with velvet. after the break, and for the remainder of the lesson, her voice was husky. her teacher advised her to seek expert advice. previously, the voice had been clear, though she was a novice in singing. after remaining away from her lessons for two weeks or more and finding that recovery was not rapid, she came to me. the node could be plainly seen on the left cord. before examining her, i tried the voice with the e scale, wrote down the diagnosis and handed it to her to read. my written conclusions were verified with the laryngeal mirror. i found no trouble except with the left vocal cord, the node being in the anterior middle third. on the summit of the node the mucous membrane appeared very red, budded, and almost warty. i cocainized the cord, and immediately applied pure alum in solution to the node itself, but to no purpose. this treatment was continued for two weeks, without any perceptible change for the better. then i ordered the patient to remain quietly in a closed room; she was to see no one, she was not to talk at all, she was not to laugh. as harassing as was the experience, she faithfully observed the directions, and on the fourth day every vestige of redness had disappeared. only a slight elevation remained on the cord where the node had been. the treatment was continued three days longer. at the expiration of that period no trace of the node could be seen. now no one would suspect that a node had once affected her voice. experiences like this indicate why i counsel against use of the voice under diseased conditions. as a general proposition, all throat spraying is dangerous. a new york singer, suffering while on a concert-tour from a case of sub-acute laryngitis, sought advice from a physician who honestly tried to aid him, but shot wide of the mark through injudicious use of a spray, in which he used menthol and eucalyptus, a combination much affected by a certain well-meaning class, and which for a time gives to the throat a delightful sense of coolness. the singer became afflicted with a violent, explosive cough, which caused the formation of a node. he gave up singing, losing nearly $ , in engagements. he went to his own room and to bed. he remained in his room for three weeks. the temperature was carefully watched. he did not expose himself in the slightest degree, nor did he use his voice. the result was a perfect cure. another case is that of a church singer whose throat during a religious festival service became filled with the smoke of incense. the irritation caused a troublesome cough, and she lost her voice entirely above the top f#. it required fourteen days to effect a cure. she stopped singing for six days and then sang in church, with the result that the difficulty returned, augmented. she sensibly rested the succeeding week and perfected a cure. rest did far more than any amount of medicine, however it might have been administered. paralysis of the vocal cords constitutes a second form of vocal catastrophe. it should need no definition. in reality, however, the paralysis does not lie in the cords themselves, but in the leading muscles that control in phonation. there are many forms of this particular example of vocal catastrophe, though i am now dealing only with those which are liable to attack a singer, and which are most frequent in my own experience. with the singer one form is common, viz.: paralysis of the left adductor muscles, or those which inspire the arytenoid cartilage in drawing the left vocal cord forward to meet its fellow for the production of tone. no one can ever forget the sight presented by the left cord in its helpless condition: the arytenoid, tipped with its cartilage of santorini, extending far over the median line of the glottis and drawing after it the right vocal cord in a vain endeavor to put it in position where it can aid its injured mate. the paralysis may, of course, occur on both sides, and then it is that, on the side which is most exercised, there is felt a sense of distress, of pain and sudden fatigue. this condition generally arises from prolonged singing, and many of the cases i have seen have been the result of overwork during easter and christmas; and all of the cases which have come under my observation were associated with rheumatic constitutions. fortunately for these singers, when the conditions were made known to them, they were in a position, or at least were perfectly willing, to rest, because of the fear that a knowledge of their condition instilled. indeed, the situation is always one to cause serious alarm. the beautiful symmetry of the arytenoids is impaired and the agility of the voice is destroyed. if the singer persists in his vocation, total disability results. as a rule, complete rest is enforced by reason of inability to sing at all. if the voice is continued in use, the affection becomes permanent and there is one more case of irremediable vocal collapse. the remedy is rest, and that, too, before the disease has passed recoverable ground. if the singer experiences pain on either side of the thyroid cartilage, or on either side of the adam's apple, then let him by all means have a care, for those are the symptoms of this peculiarly menacing form of paralysis. in the voice a palpable hoarseness is manifest. the voice becomes "fuzzy" throughout its entire compass. a pronounced disability to make a _crescendo_ arises, and when the effort is made (for in the described circumstances use of the voice is attended with undue effort), the tone becomes coarse and uncontrollable. the range of the voice is lessened and the singer finds difficulty in reaching the upper tones. in the general debilitation the singer tries, or rather is compelled through weakness, to poise the voice from the cords themselves and not from the diaphragm. of the other forms of vocal-cord paralysis there is one of great interest, known as hysterical paralysis. it is usually only temporary, and is sometimes produced in singers whose nervous condition grows upon itself until the system passes into the trying disturbance diagnosed by the rudely critical public as "stage-fright." artists of marked pretension have been compelled to abandon a public career because of this affliction. there are other examples of it even more difficult to understand. i have in mind a case of a singing-teacher in a conventual school, who was under a peculiar strain of preparation for the commencement exercises of the school and of her own class and their appearance in public. she brought her class up to the appearing-point. then her nervous system gave way, and when she came to me she was absolutely voiceless. sometimes in coughing her vocal cords could be seen to move. with rest she recovered, but she has a recurrent tendency to the same trouble every year. the case would seem to illustrate the uselessness of all effort on the part of the person so affected permanently to overcome it. the remedy is at hand, however, in numerous cases, in resort to a careful and uninterrupted upbuilding of the nervous system. i will mention some other cases of vocal disorder and cure. an operatic tenor came to me with a tendency to break in scale-sounding, and with a nasal or catarrhal color to all his tones above e. i found attached above and back of the soft palate a mass as large as a hickory nut and completely blocking up the dome of the pharynx. a little cocaine was applied, and with a single sweep of the curette he was minus an adenoid on the third tonsil, a tonsil of luscha. within ten days his voice was completely restored. sometimes the physician is obliged to seek far for the cause of catastrophe to the voice. a fine and thoroughly well-trained tenor singer came to me with a singular tremor in his voice. the entire scale was tremulous. i found nothing the matter with any part of his vocal tract save that, on closely studying the condition of his mouth, there was a rapid muscular contraction of the soft palate and surrounding tissues. this led me to examine him from head to foot for possible nervous disorder, of which, however, i found no trace. then, satisfied that there must be a more remote physical cause, i pushed the examination further and discovered traces of kidney affection. he was successfully treated for this and, with its cure, his voice also was restored. this case shows the close relationship between parts of the physical constitution and the voice, and illustrates the importance to the singer of a generally healthy physical condition. another case illustrates a further and somewhat peculiar phase of the subject. from the posterior nasal passage of a singer i removed nine large adenoid tumors. he was a tenor, and within a few days his upper tones were perceptibly freer and fuller. he had recently changed his instructor; and subsequently i found that he was attributing to this teacher the marked improvement in his voice. the physician was receiving no credit as a voice-builder whatsoever from either of them--which shows that in addition to a keen knife, the specialist should also possess a keen sense of humor. transcriber's note some spelling variation exists in this ebook (e.g., collar-bone and collarbone, chest-cavity and chest cavity, mucus and mucous). these variations have been retained to match the original text. minor corrections to punctuation have been made without note. the following additional typographical corrections have been made: table of contents: changed to to accurately reflect page number in text page : changed larynogoscopists to laryngoscopists (by amateur laryngoscopists) note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) caruso and tetrazzini on the art of singing by enrico caruso and luisa tetrazzini metropolitan company, publishers, new york, . preface in offering this work to the public the publishers wish to lay before those who sing or who are about to study singing, the simple, fundamental rules of the art based on common sense. the two greatest living exponents of the art of singing--luisa tetrazzini and enrico caruso--have been chosen as examples, and their talks on singing have additional weight from the fact that what they have to say has been printed exactly as it was uttered, the truths they expound are driven home forcefully, and what they relate so simply is backed by years of experience and emphasized by the results they have achieved as the two greatest artists in the world. much has been said about the italian method of singing. it is a question whether anyone really knows what the phrase means. after all, if there be a right way to sing, then all other ways must be wrong. books have been written on breathing, tone production and what singers should eat and wear, etc., etc., all tending to make the singer self-conscious and to sing with the brain rather than with the heart. to quote mme. tetrazzini: "you can train the voice, you can take a raw material and make it a finished production; not so with the heart." the country is overrun with inferior teachers of singing; men and women who have failed to get before the public, turn to teaching without any practical experience, and, armed only with a few methods, teach these alike to all pupils, ruining many good voices. should these pupils change teachers, even for the better, then begins the weary undoing of the false method, often with no better result. to these unfortunate pupils this book is of inestimable value. he or she could not consistently choose such teachers after reading its pages. again the simple rules laid down and tersely and interestingly set forth not only carry conviction with them, but tear away the veil of mystery that so often is thrown about the divine art. luisa tetrazzini and enrico caruso show what not to do, as well as what to do, and bring the pupil back to first principles--the art of singing naturally. the art of singing by luisa tetrazzini [illustration: luisa tetrazzini] luisa tetrazzini introductory sketch of the career of the world-famous prima donna luisa tetrazzini, the most famous italian coloratura soprano of the day, declares that she began to sing before she learned to talk. her parents were not musical, but her elder sister, now the wife of the eminent conductor cleofante campanini, was a public singer of established reputation, and her success roused her young sister's ambition to become a great artist. her parents were well to do, her father having a large army furnishing store in florence, and they did not encourage her in her determination to become a prima donna. one prima donna, said her father, was enough for any family. luisa did not agree with him. if one prima donna is good, she argued, why would not two be better? so she never desisted from her importunity until she was permitted to become a pupil of professor coccherani, vocal instructor at the lycée. at this time she had committed to memory more than a dozen grand opera rôles, and at the end of six months the professor confessed that he could do nothing more for her voice; that she was ready for a career. she made her bow to the florentine opera going public, one of the most critical in italy, as inez, in meyerbeer's "l'africaine," and her success was so pronounced that she was engaged at a salary of $ a month, a phenomenal beginning for a young singer. queen margherita was present on the occasion and complimented her highly and prophesied for her a great career. she asked the trembling débutante how old she was, and in the embarrassment of the moment luisa made herself six years older than she really was. this is one noteworthy instance in which a public singer failed to discount her age. fame came speedily, but for a long time it was confined to europe and latin america. she sang seven seasons in st. petersburg, three in mexico, two in madrid, four in buenos aires, and even on the pacific coast of america before she appeared in new york. she had sung lucia more than times before her first appearance at covent garden, and the twenty curtain calls she received on that occasion came as the greatest surprise of her career. she had begun to believe that she could never be appreciated by english-speaking audiences and the ovation almost overcame her. it was by the merest chance that mme. tetrazzini ever came to the manhattan opera house in new york. the diva's own account of her engagement is as follows: "i was in london, and for a wonder i had a week, a wet week, on my hands. you know people will do anything in a wet week in london. "there were contracts from all over the continent and south america pending. there was much discussion naturally in regard to settlements and arrangements of one kind and another. "suddenly, just like that"--she makes a butterfly gesture--"m. hammerstein came, and just like that"--a duplicate gesture--"i made up my mind that i would come here. if his offer to me had been seven days later i should not have signed, and if i had not i should undoubtedly never have come, for a contract that i might have signed to go elsewhere would probably have been for a number of years." voice experts confess that they are not able to solve the mystery of mme. tetrazzini's wonderful management of her breathing. "it is perfectly natural," she says. "i breathe low down in the diaphragm, not, as some do, high up in the upper part of the chest. i always hold some breath in reserve for the crescendos, employing only what is absolutely necessary, and i renew the breath wherever it is easiest. "in breathing i find, as in other matters pertaining to singing, that as one goes on and practices, no matter how long one may have been singing, there are constantly new surprises awaiting one. you may have been accustomed for years to take a note in a certain way, and after a long while you discover that, while it is a very good way, there is a better." breath control the foundation of singing there is only one way to sing correctly, and that is to sing naturally, easily, comfortably. the height of vocal art is to have no apparent method, but to be able to sing with perfect facility from one end of the voice to the other, emitting all the notes clearly and yet with power and having each note of the scale sound the same in quality and tonal beauty as the ones before and after. there are many methods which lead to the goal of natural singing--that is to say, the production of the voice with ease, beauty and with perfect control. some of the greatest teachers in the world reach this point apparently by diverging roads. around the art of singing there has been formed a cult which includes an entire jargon of words meaning one thing to the singer and another thing to the rest of the world and which very often doesn't mean the same thing to two singers of different schools. in these talks with you i am going to try to use the simplest words, and the few idioms which i will have to take from my own language i will translate to you as clearly as i can, so that there can be no misunderstanding. certainly the highest art and a lifetime of work and study are necessary to acquire an easy emission of tone. there are quantities of wonderful natural voices, particularly among the young people of switzerland and italy, and the american voice is especially noted for its purity and the beauty of its tone in the high registers. but these naturally untrained voices soon break or fail if they are used much unless the singer supplements the natural, god-given vocal gifts with a conscious understanding of how the vocal apparatus should be used. the singer must have some knowledge of his or her anatomical structure, particularly the structure of the throat, mouth and face, with its resonant cavities, which are so necessary for the right production of the voice. besides that, the lungs and diaphragm and the whole breathing apparatus must be understood, because the foundation of singing is breathing and breath control. a singer must be able to rely on his breath, just as he relies upon the solidity of the ground beneath his feet. a shaky, uncontrolled breath is like a rickety foundation on which nothing can be built, and until that foundation has been developed and strengthened the would-be singer need expect no satisfactory results. from the girls to whom i am talking especially i must now ask a sacrifice--the singer cannot wear tight corsets and should not wear corsets of any kind which come up higher than the lowest rib. in other words, the corset must be nothing but a belt, but with as much hip length as the wearer finds convenient and necessary. in order to insure proper breathing capacity it is understood that the clothing must be absolutely loose around the chest and also across the lower part of the back, for one should breathe with the back of the lungs as well as with the front. in my years of study and work i have developed my own breathing capacity until i am somewhat the despair of the fashionable modiste, but i have a diaphragm and a breath on which i can rely at all times. in learning to breathe it is well to think of the lungs as empty sacks, into which the air is dropping like a weight, so that you think first of filling the bottom of your lungs, then the middle part, and so on until no more air can be inhaled. inhale short breaths through the nose. this, of course, is only an exercise for breath development. now begin to inhale from the bottom of the lungs first. exhale slowly and feel as if you were pushing the air against your chest. if you can get this sensation later when singing it will help you very greatly to get control of the breath and to avoid sending too much breath through the vocal chords. the breath must be sent out in an even, steady flow. you will notice when you begin to sing, if you watch yourself very carefully, that, first, you will try to inhale too much air; secondly, you will either force it all out at once, making a breathy note, or in trying to control the flow of air by the diaphragm you will suddenly cease to send it forth at all and will be making the sound by pressure from the throat. there must never be any pressure from the throat. the sound must be made from the continued flow of air. you must learn to control this flow of air, so that no muscular action of the throat can shut it off. open the throat wide and start your note by the pressure breath. the physical sensation should be first an effort on the part of the diaphragm to press the air up against the chest box, then the sensation of a perfectly open throat, and, lastly, the sensation that the air is passing freely into the cavities of the head. the quantity of sound is controlled by the breath. in diminishing the tone the opening of the throat remains the same. only the quantity of breath given forth is diminished. that is done by the diaphragm muscles. "filare la voce," to spin the voice from a tiny little thread into a breadth of sound and then diminish again, is one of the most beautiful effects in singing. it is accomplished by the control of the breath, and its perfect accomplishment means the complete mastery of the greatest difficulty in learning to sing. i think one of the best exercises for learning to control the voice by first getting control of the breath is to stand erect in a well-ventilated room or out of doors and slowly snuff in air through the nostrils, inhaling in little puffs, as if you were smelling something. take just a little bit of air at a time and feel as if you were filling the very bottom of your lungs and also the back of your lungs. when you have the sensation of being full up to the neck retain the air for a few seconds and then very slowly send it out in little puffs again. this is a splendid exercise, but i want to warn you not to practice any breathing exercise to such an extent that you make your heart beat fast or feel like strangling. overexercising the lungs is as bad as not exercising them enough and the results are often harmful. like everything else in singing, you want to learn this gradually. never neglect it, because it is the very foundation of your art. but don't try to develop a diaphragm expansion of five inches in two weeks. indeed, it is not the expansion that you are working for. i have noticed this one peculiarity about young singers--if they have an enormous development of the diaphragm they think they should be able to sing, no matter what happens. a girl came to see me once whose figure was really entirely out of proportion, the lower part of the lungs having been pressed out quite beyond even artistic lines. "you see, madam," she exclaimed, "i have studied breathing. why, i have such a strong diaphragm i can move the piano with it!" and she did go right up to my piano and, pushing on this strong diaphragm of hers, moved the piano a fraction of an inch from its place. i was quite aghast. i had never met such an athletic singer. when i asked her to let me hear her voice, however, a tiny stream of contralto sound issued from those powerful lungs. she had developed her breathing capacity, but when she sang she held her breath back. i have noticed that a great many people do this, and it is one of the things that must be overcome in the very beginning of the study of singing. certain young singers take in an enormous breath, stiffening every muscle in order to hold the air, thus depriving their muscles of all elasticity. they will then shut off the throat and let only the smallest fraction of air escape, just enough to make a sound. too much inbreathing and too violent an effort at inhaling will not help the singer at all. people have said that they cannot see when i breathe. well, they certainly cannot say that i am ever short of breath even if i do try to breathe invisibly. when i breathe i scarcely draw my diaphragm in at all, but i feel the air fill my lungs and i feel my upper ribs expand. in singing i always feel as if i were forcing my breath against my chest, and, just as in the exercises according to delsarte you will find the chest leads in all physical movements, so in singing you should feel this firm support of the chest of the highest as well as the lowest notes. i have seen pupils, trying to master the art of breathing, holding themselves as rigidly as drum majors. now this rigidity of the spinal column will in no way help you in the emission of tone, nor will it increase the breath control. in fact, i don't think it would even help you to stand up straight, although it would certainly give one a stiff appearance and one far removed from grace. a singer should stand freely and easily and should feel as if the chest were leading, but should not feel constrained or stiff in any part of the ribs or lungs. from the minute the singer starts to emit a tone the supply of breath must be emitted steadily from the chamber of air in the lungs. it must never be held back once. the immediate pressure of the air should be felt more against the chest. i know of a great many singers who, when they come to very difficult passages, put their hands on their chests, focusing their attention on this one part of the mechanism of singing. the audience, of course, thinks the prima donna's hand is raised to her heart, when, as a matter of fact, the prima donna, with a difficult bit of singing before her, is thinking of her technique and the foundation of that technique--breath control. this feeling of singing against the chest with the weight of air pressing up against it is known as "breath support," and in italian we have even a better word, "apoggio," which is breath prop. the diaphragm in english may be called the bellows of the lungs, but the apoggio is the deep breath regulated by the diaphragm. the attack of the sound must come from the apoggio, or breath prop. in attacking the very highest notes it is essential, and no singer can really get the high notes or vocal flexibility or strength of tone without the attack coming from this seat of respiration. in practicing the trill or staccato tones the pressure of the breath must be felt even before the sound is heard. the beautiful, clear, bell-like tones that die away into a soft piano are tones struck on the apoggio and controlled by the steady soft pressure of the breath emitted through a perfectly open throat, over a low tongue and resounding in the cavities of the mouth or head. never for a moment sing without this apoggio, this breath prop. its development and its constant use mean the restoration of sick or fatigued voices and the prolonging of all one's vocal powers into what is wrongly called old age. the mastery of the tongue the tongue is a veritable stumbling block in the path of the singer. the tongue is an enormous muscle compared with the other parts of the throat and mouth, and its roots particularly can by a slight movement block the passage of the throat pressing against the larynx. this accounts for much of the pinched singing we hear. when the tongue forms a mountain in the back part of the mouth the singer produces what you call in english slang "a hot potato tone"--that is to say, a tone that sounds as if it were having much difficulty to get through the mouth. in very fact, it is having this difficulty, for it has to pass over the back of the tongue. the would-be singer has to learn to control the tongue muscles and, above all things, to learn to relax the tongue and to govern it at will, so that it never stiffens and forms that hard lump which can be plainly felt immediately beneath the chin under the jaw. it requires a great deal of practice to gain control of the tongue, and there are many different exercises which purport to be beneficial in gaining complete mastery over it. one, for instance, is to throw the tongue out as far forward as possible without stiffening it and then draw it back slowly. this can be done in front of a mirror by trying to throw the tongue not only from the tip, but from the root, keeping the sides of the tongue broad. another way is to catch hold of the two sides of the tongue with the fingers and pull it out gently. for my part, i scarcely approve of these mechanical ways of gaining control of the tongue except in cases where the singer is phlegmatic of temperament and cannot be made to feel the various sensations of stiff tongue or tongue drawn far back in other ways. ordinarily i think they make the singer conscious, nervous and more likely to stiffen the tongue in a wild desire to relax it and keep it flat. these exercises, however, combined with exercises in diction, help to make the tongue elastic, and the more elastic and quick this muscle becomes the clearer will be the singer's diction and the more flexible will be her voice. the correct position of the tongue is raised from the back, lying flat in the mouth, the flattened tip beneath the front teeth, with the sides slightly raised so as to form a slight furrow in it. when the tongue is lying too low a lump under the chin beneath the jaw will form in singing and the tight muscles can be easily felt. when the jaw is perfectly relaxed and the tongue lies flat in the mouth there will be a slight hollow under the chin and no stiffness in the muscles. the tip of the tongue of course is employed in the pronunciation of the consonants and must be so agile that the minute it has finished its work it at once resumes the correct position. in ascending the scale the furrow in the tongue increases as we come to the higher notes. it is here that the back of the palate begins to draw up in order to add to the resonance of the head notes, giving the cavities of the head free play. you can easily see your back palate working by opening your mouth wide and giving yourself the sensation of one about to sneeze. you will see far back in the throat, way behind the nose, a soft spot that will draw up of itself as the sneeze becomes more imminent. that little point is the soft palate. it must be drawn up for the high notes in order to get the head resonance. as a singer advances in her art she can do this at will. the adjustment of throat, tongue and palate, all working together, will daily respond more easily to her demands. however, she should be able consciously to control each part by itself. the conscious direction of the voice and command of the throat are necessary. frequently in opera the singer, sitting or lying in some uncomfortable position which is not naturally convenient for producing the voice, will consciously direct her notes into the head cavities by opening up the throat and lifting the soft palate. for instance, in the rôle of violetta the music of the last act is sung lying down. in order to get proper resonance to some of the high notes i have to start them in the head cavity by means, of course, of the apoggio, or breath prop, without which the note would be thin and would have no body to it. the sensation that i have is of a slight pressure of breath striking almost into a direct line into the cavity behind the forehead over the eyes without any obstruction or feeling in the throat at all. this is the correct attack for the head tone, or a tone taken in the upper register. before i explain the registers to you i must tell you one of the funniest compliments i ever received. a very flattering person was comparing my voice to that of another high soprano whom i very much admire. "her voice is beautiful, particularly in the upper register," i insisted when the other lady was being criticized. "ah, madame," responded the flattering critic, "but your registers give out so much more warmth." i think this joke is too good to lose, also the criticism, while unjust to the other singer, is interesting to the student, because in the high register, which includes in some voices all the notes above middle c, the notes are thin and cold unless supported by the apoggio, the breath prop, of which i have told you so much. people ask whether there are such things as vocal registers. certainly there are. there are three always and sometimes four in very high voices. the ordinary registers are the low, the middle, the high voice, or head voice, and sometimes the second high voice, which has been called the flagellant voice. a vocal register is a series of tones which are produced by a certain position of the larynx, tongue and palate. in the woman's voice the middle register takes in the notes from e on the first line of the staff about to middle c. the head voice begins at middle c and runs up sometimes to the end of the voice, sometimes to b flat or c, where it joins the second head register, which i have heard ascend into a whistle in phenomenal voices cultivated only in this register and useless for vocal work. though the registers exist and the tones in middle, below and above are not produced in the same manner, the voice should be so equalized that the change in registers cannot be heard. and a tone sung with a head voice and in the low voice should have the same degree of quality, resonance and power. as the voice ascends in the scale each note is different, and as one goes on up the positions of the organ of the throat cannot remain the same for several different tones. but there should never be an abrupt change, either audible to the audience or felt in the singer's throat. every tone must be imperceptibly prepared, and upon the elasticity of the vocal organs depends the smoothness of the tone production. adjusting the vocal apparatus to the high register should be both imperceptible and mechanical whenever a high note has to be sung. in the high register the head voice, or voice which vibrates in the head cavities, should be used chiefly. the middle register requires palatal resonance, and the first notes of the head register and the last ones of the middle require a judicious blending of both. the middle register can be dragged up to the high notes, but always at the cost first of the beauty of the voice and then of the voice itself, for no organ can stand being used wrongly for a long time. this is only one of the reasons that so many fine big voices go to pieces long before they should. in an excess of enthusiasm the young singer attempts to develop the high notes and make them sound--in her own ears, at all events--as big as the middle voice. the pure head tone sounds small and feeble to the singer herself, and she would rather use the chest quality, but the head tone has the piercing, penetrating quality which makes it tell in a big hall, while the middle register, unless used in its right place, makes the voice muffled, heavy and lacking in vibrancy. though to the singer the tone may seem immense, in reality it lacks resonance. a singer must never cease listening to herself intelligently and never neglect cultivating the head tone or over-tone of the voice, which is its salvation, for it means vibrancy, carrying power and youth to a voice. without it the finest voice soon becomes worn and off pitch. used judiciously it will preserve a voice into old age. tone emission and attack in my first talk i said a few words, but not half enough, on the subject of breath control. my second talk was the physiological aspect of the throat, head and tongue, for it is necessary to become thoroughly acquainted with the mechanism with which you are to work before you can really sing. today i'm going to take up the subject of tone emission and the attack. a great many singers suffer from the defect called "throatiness" of the emission--that is to say, they attack or start the note in the throat. sooner or later this attack will ruin the most beautiful voice. as i have said before, the attack of the note must come from the apoggio, or breath prop. but to have the attack pure and perfectly in tune you must have the throat entirely open, for it is useless to try to sing if the throat is not sufficiently open to let the sound pass freely. throaty tones or pinched tones are tones which are trying to force themselves through a half-closed throat blocked either by insufficient opening of the larynx or by stoppage of the throat passage, due to the root of the tongue being forced down and back too hard or possibly to a low, soft palate. in order to have the throat perfectly open it is necessary to have the jaw absolutely relaxed. i have found in studying different nationalities that it is fairly easy for the french and spanish people to learn this relaxation of jaw and the opening of the throat, but the english-speaking people generally talk with the throat half shut and even talk through half-shut teeth. sometime, when you are talking rapidly, suddenly put your hand up to your jaw. you will find that it is stiff; that the muscles beneath it (tongue muscles) are tight and hard; that the jaw seldom goes down very far in pronouncing any of the english words, whereas in singing the jaw should be absolutely relaxed, going down and back just as far as it can with ease. the jaw is attached to the skull right beneath the temples in front of the ears. by placing your two fingers there and dropping the jaw you will find that a space between the skull and jaw grows as the jaw drops. in singing this space must be as wide as is possible, for that indicates that the jaw is dropped down, giving its aid to the opening at the back of the throat. it will help the beginner sometimes to do simple relaxing exercises, feeling the jaw drop with the fingers. it must drop down, and it is not necessary to open the mouth wide, because the jaw is relaxed to its utmost. however, for a beginner it is as well to practice opening the mouth wide, being sure to lower the jaw at the back. do this many times a day without emitting any sound merely to get the feeling of what an open throat is really like. you will presently begin to yawn after you have done the exercise a couple of times. in yawning or in starting to drink a sip of water the throat is widely open, and the sensation is a correct one which the singer must study to reproduce. i have noticed a great many actors and actresses in america who speak with jaws tightly closed, or at least closed to such an extent that only the smallest emission of breath is possible. such a voice production will never allow the actor to express any varying degree of emotion and will also completely eradicate any natural beauty of tone which the voice may have. however, this is a fault which can easily be overcome by practicing this daily relaxation of the jaw and always when singing breathing as if the jaw hung perfectly loose, or, better still, as if you had none at all. when you can see a vocalist pushing on the jaw you can be perfectly certain that the tone she is emitting at that moment is a forced note and that the whole vocal apparatus is being tortured to create what is probably not a pleasant noise. any kind of mental distress will cause the jaw to stiffen and will have an immediate effect upon the voice. this is one of the reasons why a singer must learn to control her emotions and must not subject herself to any harrowing experiences, even such as watching a sensational spectacle, before she is going to sing. fear, worry, fright--stage as well as other kinds--set the jaw. so does too great a determination to succeed. a singer's mind must control all of her feelings if it is going to control her voice. she must be able even to surmount a feeling of illness or stage fright and to control her vocal apparatus, as well as her breath, no matter what happens. the singer should feel as if her jaw were detached and falling away from her face. as one great singer expresses it: "you should have the jaw of an imbecile when emitting a tone. in fact, you shouldn't know that you have one." let us take the following passage from "the marriage of figaro," by mozart: [illustration: voi-che sa-pe-te-] this would make an excellent exercise for the jaw. sing only the vowels, dropping the jaw as each one is attacked--"o, eh, ah." the o, of course, is pronounced like the english o and the i in voi like e. the e in che is pronounced like the english a. sapete is pronounced sahpata. you now have the vowels, o, ee, a, ah, a. open the throat wide, drop the jaw and pronounce the tones on a note in the easiest part of your voice. do not attack a note at the same time that you are inhaling. that is too soon. take the breath through the nose, of course, and give it an instant to settle before attacking the sound. in this way you will avoid the stroke of the glottis which is caused by the sudden and uncontrolled emission of the accumulated breath. in attacking a note the breath must be directed to the focusing point on the palate which lies just at the critical spot, different for every tone. in attacking a note, however, there must be no pressure on this place, because if there is the overtones will be unable to soar and sound with the tone. from the moment the note is attacked the breath must flow out with it. it is a good idea to feel at first as if one were puffing out the breath. this is particularly good for the high notes on which a special stress must be laid always to attack with the breath and not to press or push with the throat. as long as the tone lasts the gentle but uninterrupted outpouring of the breath must continue behind it. this breath pressure insures the strength and, while holding the note to the focusing point on the palate, insures its pitch. in a general way it can be said that the medium tones of the voice have their focusing point in the middle part of the palate, the lower tones coming nearer to the teeth to be centralized and the high notes giving the sensation of finding their focusing point in the high arch at the back of the mouth and going out, as it were, through the crown of the head. the resonance in the head cavities is soon perceived by those who are beginning to sing. sometimes in producing their first high notes young people become nervous and irritated when singing high tones at the curious buzzing in the head and ears. after a short time, however, this sensation is no longer an irritation, and the singer can gauge in a way where his tones are placed by getting a mental idea of where the resonance to each particular tone should be. high notes with plenty of head vibration can only be obtained when the head is clear and the nasal cavities unobstructed by mucous membrane or by any of the depression which comes from physical or mental cause. the best way to lose such depression is to practice. practicing the long scale, being careful to use the different registers, as described later, will almost invariably even out the voice and clear out the head if continued long enough, and will enable the singer to overcome nervous or mental depression as well. the different sensations in producing the tone vary according to the comparative height and depth. beginning from the medium tones, the singer will feel as if each tone of the descending scale were being sung farther outside of the mouth, the vibration hitting the upper teeth as it goes out, whereas with the ascending scale the vibrations pass through the nasal cavities, through the cavity in the forehead and up back into the head, until one feels as if the tone were being formed high over the head at the back. i want to say right here that whenever a young singer feels uncomfortable when singing he or she is singing incorrectly. in attacking the note on the breath, particularly in the high notes, it is quite possible that at first the voice will not respond. for a long time merely an emission or breath or perhaps a little squeak on the high note is all that can be hoped for. if, however, this is continued, eventually the head voice will be joined to the breath, and a faint note will find utterance which with practice will develop until it becomes an easy and brilliant tone. the reason that the tone has not been able to come forth is because the vocal apparatus cannot adjust itself to the needs of the vocal chords or because they themselves have not accustomed themselves to respond to the will of the singer and are too stiff to perform their duty. the scale is the greatest test of voice production. no opera singer, no concert singer, who cannot sing a perfect scale can be said to be a technician or to have achieved results in her art. whether the voice be soprano, mezzo or contralto, each note should be perfect of its kind, and the note of each register should partake sufficiently of the quality of the next register above or below it in order not to make the transition noticeable when the voice ascends or descends the scale. this blending of the registers is obtained by the intelligence of the singer in mixing the different tone qualities of the registers, using as aids the various formations of the lips, mouth and throat and the ever present apoggio without which no perfect scale can be sung. facial expression and mirror practice in studying a new rôle i am in the habit of practicing in front of a mirror in order to get an idea of the effect of a facial expression and to see that it does not take away from the correct position of the mouth. the young singer should practice constantly in front of a mirror as soon as she begins to sing songs or to express emotions in her music, for the girl with the expressive face is likely to contort her mouth so that the correct emission of tones is impossible. the dramatic artist depends largely for her expression on the changing lines of the mouth, chin and jaw, and in any lines spoken which denote command or will you will see the actor's jaw setting and becoming rigid with the rest of the facial mask. now, a singer can never allow the facial expression to alter the position of the jaw or mouth. facial expression for the singer must concern itself chiefly with the eyes and forehead. the mouth must remain the same, and the jaw must ever be relaxed, whether the song is one of deep intensity or a merry scale of laughter. the mouth in singing should always smile lightly. this slight smile at once relaxes the lips, allowing them free play for the words which they and the tongue must form and also gives the singer a slight sensation of uplift necessary for singing. it is impossible to sing well when mentally depressed or even physically indisposed slightly. unless one has complete control over the entire vocal apparatus and unless one can simulate a smile one does not feel the voice will lack some of its resonant quality, particularly in the upper notes, where the smiling position of the mouth adjusts the throat and air passages for the emission of light tones. the lips are of the greatest aid in shaping and shading the tones. wagnerian singers, for instance, who employ trumpet-like notes in certain passages are often seen shaping their lips like the mouthpiece of a trumpet, with a somewhat square opening, the lips protruding. however, this can be practiced only after perfect relaxation of the jaw and control of the tongue have been accomplished. a singer's mouth must always look pleasant, not only because it creates a disagreeable impression on the audience to see a crooked and contorted mouth, but also because natural and correct voice production requires a mouth shaped almost into a smile. too wide a smile often accompanies what is called "the white voice." this is a voice production where a head resonance alone is employed, without sufficient of the apoggio or enough of the mouth resonance to give the tone a vital quality. this "white voice" should be thoroughly understood and is one of the many shades of tone a singer can use at times, just as the impressionist uses various unusual colors to produce certain atmospheric effects. for instance, in the mad scene in "lucia" the use of the "white voice" suggests the babbling of the mad woman, as the same voice in the last act of "traviata" or in the last act of "bohème" suggests utter physical exhaustion and the approach of death. an entire voice production on these colorless lines, however, would always lack the brilliancy and the vitality which inspire enthusiasm. one of the compensations of the "white voice" singer is the fact that she usually possesses a perfect diction. the voice itself is thrust into the head cavities and not allowed to vibrate in the face and mouth and gives ample room for the formation of vowels and consonants. and the singer with this voice production usually concentrates her entire attention on diction. the cure for this tone emission is, first of all, the cultivation of the breath prop, then attacking the vowel sound o o in the medium voice, which requires a low position of the larynx, and exercises on the ascending scale until the higher notes have been brought down, as it were, and gain some of the body and support of the lower notes without losing their quality. the singer's expression must concern itself chiefly with the play of emotion around the eyes, eyebrows and forehead. you have no idea how much expression you can get out of your eyebrows, for instance, until you study the question and learn by experiment that a complete emotional scale can be symbolized outwardly in the movements of the eyelids and eyebrows. a very drooping eyebrow is expressive of fatigue, either physical or mental. this lowered eyelid is the aspect we see about us most of the time, particularly on people past their first youth. as it shows a lack of interest, it is not a favorite expression of actors and is only employed where the rôle makes it necessary. increasing anxiety is depicted by slanting the eyebrows obliquely in a downward line toward the nose. concentrated attention draws the eyebrows together over the bridge of the nose, while furtiveness widens the space again without elevating the eyebrows. in the eyebrows alone you can depict mockery, every stage of anxiety or pain, astonishment, ecstasy, terror, suffering, fury and admiration, besides all the subtle tones between. in singing rôles of songs it is necessary to practice before the mirror in order to see that this facial expression is present and that it is not exaggerated; that the face is not contorted by lines of suffering or by the lines of mirth. another thing the young singer must not forget in making her initial bow before the public is the question of dress. when singing on the platform or stage, dress as well as you can. whenever you face the public have at least the assurance you are looking your very best; that your gowns hang well, are well fitted and are of a becoming color. it is not necessary that they should be gorgeous or expensive, but let them always be suitable, and for big cities let them be just as sumptuous as you can afford. at morning concerts in new york, velvets and hand-painted chiffons are considered good form, while in the afternoon handsome silk or satin frocks of a very light color are worn with hats. if a singer chooses to wear a hat let her be sure that its shape will not interfere with her voice. a very large hat, for instance, with a wide brim that comes down over the face, acts as a sort of blanket to the voice, eating up the sound and detracting from the beauty of tone, which should go forth into the audience. it is also likely to shade the singer's features too much and hide her from view from those sitting in the balconies or galleries. as a rule, the singer's hat should be small or with a flaring brim, which does not detract from the tone. another word on the subject of corsets. there is no reason in the world why a singer should not wear corsets, and if singers have a tendency to grow stout a corset is usually a necessity. a singer's corset should be especially well fitted around the hips and should be extremely loose over the diaphragm. if made in this way it will not interfere in the slightest degree with the breath. now as to diet and the general mode of life. every singer must take care of her health. but that does not necessarily mean that she must wrap herself in cotton batting and lead a sequestered existence. i don't believe that any person who wants to make a public career can accomplish it and also indulge in social dissipations. society must be cut out of the life of the would-be singer, for the demands made by it on time and vitality can only be given at a sacrifice to one's art. the care of the health is an individual matter, and what agrees well with me would cause others to sicken. i eat the simplest food always, and naturally, being an italian, i prefer the food of my native land. but simple french or german cookery agrees with me quite as well. and i allow the tempting pastry, the rich and overspiced pâté, to pass me by untouched and console myself with quantities of fruit and fresh vegetables. personally i never wear a collar and have hardened my throat to a considerable extent by wearing slightly cutout gowns always in the house, and even when i wear furs i do not have them closely drawn around the neck. i try to keep myself at an even bodily temperature, and fresh air has been my most potent remedy at all times when i have been indisposed. appreciative attitude and critical attitude 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. the art of singing by enrico caruso [illustration: enrico caruso] the career of enrico caruso how a neapolitan mechanic's son became the world's greatest tenor enrico caruso enjoys the reputation of being the greatest tenor since italo campanini. the latter was the legitimate successor of brignoli, an artist whose wonderful singing made his uncouth stage presence a matter of little moment. caruso's voice at its best recalls brignoli to the veteran opera habitué. it possesses something of the dead tenor's sweetness and clarity in the upper register, but it lacks the delicacy and artistic finish of campanini's supreme effort, although it is vastly more magnetic and thrill inspiring. that caruso is regarded as the foremost living tenor is made good by the fact that he is the highest priced male artist in the world. whenever and wherever he sings multitudes flock to hear him, and no one goes away unsatisfied. he is constantly the recipient of ovations which demonstrate the power of his minstrelsy, and his lack of especial physical attractiveness is no bar to the witchery of his voice. caruso is a neapolitan and is now thirty-five years of age. unlike so many great italian tenors, he is not of peasant parentage. his father was a skilled mechanic who had been put in charge of the warehouses of a large banking and importing concern. as a lad enrico used to frequent the docks in the vicinity of these warehouses and became an expert swimmer at a very early age. in those halcyon days his burning ambition was to be a sailor, and he had a profound distaste for his father's plan to have him learn a trade. at the age of ten he was still a care free and fun loving boy, without a thought beyond the docks and their life. it was then that his father ruled that since he would not become a mechanic he must be sent to school. he had already learned to read a little, but that was all. he was sent to a day school in the neighborhood, and he accepted the restraint with such bad grace that he was in almost constant disgrace. his long association with the water front had made him familiar with the art of physical defense, and he was in frequent trouble on that account. the head master of the school was a musician, and he discovered one day that his unruly pupil could sing. he was an expert in the development of the boy soprano and he soon realized that in young caruso he had a veritable treasure. he was shrewd enough to keep his discovery to himself for some time, for he determined to profit by the boy's extraordinary ability. the lad was rehearsed privately and was stimulated to further effort by the promise of sweetmeats and release from school duties. finally the unscrupulous master made engagements for the young prodigy to sing at fashionable weddings and concerts, but he always pocketed the money which came from these public appearances. at the end of the second year, when caruso was twelve years of age, he decided that he had had enough of the school, and he made himself so disagreeable to the head master that he was sent home in disgrace. his irate father gave him a sound thrashing and declared that he must be apprenticed to a mechanical engineer. the boy took little interest in his new work, but showed some aptitude for mechanical drawing and calligraphy. in a few months he became so interested in sketching that he began to indulge in visions of becoming a great artist. when he was fifteen his mother died, and, since he had kept at the mechanical work solely on her account, he now announced his intention of forsaking engineering and devoting himself to art and music. when his father heard of this open rebellion he fell into a great rage and declared that he would have no more of him, that he was a disgrace to the family and that he need not show his face at home. so caruso became a wanderer, with nothing in his absolute possession save a physique that was perfect and an optimism that was never failing. he picked up a scanty livelihood by singing at church festivals and private entertainments and in time became known widely as the most capable boy soprano in naples. money came more plentifully, and he was able to live generously. in a short time his voice was transformed into a marvelous alto, and he soon found himself in great demand and was surfeited with attention from the rich and powerful. it was about this time that king edward, then prince of wales, heard him sing in a neapolitan church and was so delighted that he invited the boy to go to england, an invitation which young caruso did not accept. now that he had "arrived" naples was good enough for him. one day something happened which plunged him into the deepest despair. without a warning of any sort his beautiful alto voice disappeared, leaving in its place only the feeblest and most unmusical of croaks. he was so overcome at his loss that he shut himself up in his room and would see no one. it was the first great affliction he had ever known, and he admits that he meditated suicide. he had made many friends, and some of them would have been glad to comfort him, but his grief would admit of no partnership. one evening when he was skulking along an obscure highway, at the very bottom of the well of his despair, a firm hand was laid on his shoulder and a cheery voice called out: "whither so fast? come home with me, poor little shaver!" it was messiani, the famous baritone, who had always felt an interest in the boy and who would not release him in spite of his vigorous efforts to escape. the big baritone took him to his lodging and when he had succeeded in cheering the unhappy lad into a momentary forgetfulness of his misery asked him to sing. "but i can't," sobbed caruso. "it has gone!" messiani went to the piano and struck a chord. the weeping boy piped up in a tone so thin and feeble that it was almost indistinguishable. "louder!" yelled the big singer, with another full chord. caruso obeyed and kept on through the scale. then messiani jumped up from the piano stool, seized the astonished boy about the waist and raised him high off his feet, at the same time yelling at the top of his voice: "what a little jackass! what a little idiot!" almost bursting with rage, for the miserable boy thought his friend was making sport of him, caruso searched the apartment for some weapon with which he might avenge himself. seizing a heavy brass candlestick, he hurled it at messiani with all his force, but it missed the baritone and landed in a mirror. "hold, madman!" interposed the startled singer. "your voice is not gone. it is magnificent. you will be the tenor of the century." messiani sent him to vergine, then the most celebrated trainer of the voice in italy. the maestro was not so enthusiastic as messiani, but he promised to do what he could. he offered to instruct caruso four years, only demanding per cent. of his pupil's receipts for his first five years in opera. caruso signed such a contract willingly, although he realized afterward that he was the victim of a veritable shylock. when vergine was through with the young tenor he dismissed him without lavish commendation, but with a reminder of the terms of his contract. caruso obtained an engagement in naples, but did not achieve marked success at once. on every payday vergine was on hand to receive his percentage. his regularity finally attracted the attention of the manager, and he made inquiry of caruso. the young tenor showed him his copy of the contract and was horrified to be told that he had bound himself to his shylock for a lifetime; that the contract read that he was to give vergine five years of actual singing. caruso would have reached the age of fifty before the last payment came. the matter was finally adjusted by the courts, and the unscrupulous teacher lost , lire by the judgment. in italy every man must serve his time in the army, and caruso was checked in his operatic career by the call to go into barracks. not long, however, was he compelled to undergo the tedium of army life. in consideration of his art he was permitted to offer his brother as a substitute after two months, and he returned to the opera. he was engaged immediately for a season at caserta, and from that time his rise has been steady and unimpeded. after singing in one italian city after another he went to egypt and thence to paris, where he made a favorable impression. a season in berlin followed, but the wagner influence was dominant, and he did not succeed in restoring the supremacy of italian opera. the next season was spent in south america, and in the new world caruso made his first triumph. from rio he went to london, and on his first appearance he captured his covent garden audience. when he made his first appearance in the united states he was already at the top of the operatic ladder, and, although many attempts to dislodge him have been made, he stands still on the topmost rung. from a personal viewpoint of the thousands of people who visit the opera during the season few outside of the small proportion of the initiated realize how much the performance of the singer whom they see and hear on the stage is dependent on previous rehearsal, constant practice and watchfulness over the physical conditions that preserve that most precious of our assets, the voice. nor does this same great public in general know of what the singer often suffers in the way of nervousness or stage fright before appearing in front of the footlights, nor that his life, outwardly so fêted and brilliant, is in private more or less of a retired, ascetic one and that his social pleasures must be strictly limited. these conditions, of course, vary greatly with the individual singer, but i will try to tell in the following articles, as exemplified in my own case, what a great responsibility a voice is when one considers that it is the great god-given treasure which brings us our fame and fortune. i am perhaps more favored than many in the fact that my voice was always "there," and that, with proper cultivation, of course, i have not had to overstrain it in the attempt to reach vocal heights which have come to some only after severe and long-continued effort. but, on the other hand, the finer the natural voice the more sedulous the care required to preserve it in its pristine freshness to bloom. this is the singer's ever present problem--in my case, however, mostly a matter of common sense living. as regards eating--a rather important item, by the way--i have kept to the light "continental" breakfast, which i do not take too early; then a rather substantial luncheon toward two o'clock. my native macaroni, specially prepared by my chef, who is engaged particularly for his ability in this way, is often a feature in this midday meal. i incline toward the simpler and more nourishing food, though my tastes are broad in the matter, but lay particular stress on the excellence of the cooking, for one cannot afford to risk one's health on indifferently cooked food, no matter what its quality. on the nights when i sing i take nothing after luncheon, except perhaps a sandwich and a glass of chianti, until after the performance, when i have a supper of whatever i fancy within reasonable bounds. being blessed with a good digestion, i have not been obliged to take the extraordinary precautions about what i eat that some singers do. still, i am careful never to indulge to excess in the pleasures of the table, for the condition of our alimentary apparatus and that of the vocal chords are very closely related, and the unhealthy state of the one immediately reacts on the other. my reason for abstaining from food for so long before singing may be inquired. it is simply that when the large space required by the diaphragm in expanding to take in breath is partly occupied by one's dinner the result is that one cannot take as deep a breath as one would like and consequently the tone suffers and the all-important ease of breathing is interfered with. in addition a certain amount of bodily energy is used in the process of digestion which would otherwise be entirely given to the production of the voice. these facts, seemingly so simple, are very vital ones to a singer, particularly on an "opening night." a singer's life is such an active one, with rehearsals and performances, that not much opportunity is given for "exercise," and the time given to this must, of course, be governed by individual needs. i find a few simple physical exercises in the morning after rising, somewhat similar to those practiced in the army, or the use for a few minutes of a pair of light dumbbells, very beneficial. otherwise i must content myself with an occasional automobile ride. one must not forget, however, that the exercise of singing, with its constant deep inhalation (and acting in itself is considerable exercise also), tends much to keep one from acquiring an over-supply of embonpoint. a proper moderation in eating, however, as i have already said, will contribute as much to the maintenance of correct proportion in one's figure as any amount of voluntary exercise which one only goes through with on principle. as so many of you in a number of states of this great country are feeling and expressing as well as voting opinions on the subject of whether one should or should not drink intoxicants, you may inquire what practice is most in consonance with a singer's well being, in my opinion. here, again, of course, customs vary with the individual. in italy we habitually drink the light wines of the country with our meals and surely are never the worse for it. i have retained my fondness for my native chianti, which i have even made on my own italian estate, but believe and carry out the belief that moderation is the only possible course. i am inclined to condemn the use of spirits, whisky in particular, which is so prevalent in the anglo-saxon countries, for it is sure to inflame the delicate little ribbons of tissue which produce the singing tone and then--_addio_ to a clear and ringing high c! though i indulge occasionally in a cigarette, i advise all singers, particularly young singers, against this practice, which can certainly not fail to have a bad effect on the delicate lining of the throat, the vocal chords and the lungs. you will see by all the foregoing that even the gift of a good breath is not to be abused or treated lightly, and that the "goose with the golden egg" must be most carefully nurtured. outside of this, however, one of the great temptations that beset any singer of considerable fame is the many social demands that crowd upon him, usually unsought and largely undesired. many of the invitations to receptions, teas and dinners are from comparative strangers and cannot be considered, but of those from one's friends which it would be a pleasure to attend very few indeed can be accepted, for the singer's first care, even if a selfish one, must be for his health and consequently his voice, and the attraction of social intercourse must, alas, be largely foregone. the continual effort of loud talking in a throng would be extremely bad for the sensitive musical instrument that the vocalist carries in his throat, and the various beverages offered at one of your afternoon teas it would be too difficult to refuse. so i confine myself to an occasional quiet dinner with a few friends on an off night at the opera or any evening at the play, where i can at least be silent during the progress of the acts. in common with most of the foreign singers who come to america, i have suffered somewhat from the effects of your barbarous climate, with its sudden changes of temperature, but perhaps have become more accustomed to it in the years of my operatic work here. what has affected me most, however, is the overheating of the houses and hotels with that dry steam heat which is so trying to the throat. even when i took a house for the season i had difficulty in keeping the air moist. now, however, in the very modern and excellent hotel where i am quartered they have a new system of ventilation by which the air is automatically rendered pure and the heat controlled--a great blessing to the over-sensitive vocalist. after reading the above the casual person will perhaps believe that a singer's life is really not a bit of a sinecure, even when he has attained the measure of this world's approval and applause afforded by the "great horseshoe." the voice and tone production the question, "how is it done?" as applied to the art of singing brings up so many different points that it is difficult to know where to begin or how to give the layman in any kind of limited space a concise idea of the principles controlling the production of the voice and their application to vocal art. every singer or singing master is popularly supposed to have a method by following out which he has come to fame. yet if asked to describe this method many an artist would be at a loss to do so, or else deny that he had any specific method at all, such a subtle and peculiarly individual matter it is that constitutes the technical part of singing. most singers--in fact, all of them--do many things in singing habitually, yet so inconspicuously that they could not describe how or why they did them. yet this little set of "artistic" habits all arise from most logical causes and have become habits from their fitness to the personality of their owner and their special value in enabling that singer to do his best work by their aid. for instance, a singer will know from trials and experience just the proper position of the tongue and larynx to produce most effectively a certain note on the scale, yet he will have come by this knowledge not by theory and reasoning, but simply oft repeated attempts, and the knowledge he has come by will be valuable to him only, for somebody else would produce the same note equally well, but in quite a different way. so one may see that there are actually as many methods as there are singers, and any particular method, even if accurately set forth, might be useless to the person who tried it. this is what i really would reply to anyone putting this question to me--that my own particular way of singing, if i have any, is, after all, peculiarly suited to me only, as i have above described. however, there are many interesting and valuable things to be said about the voice in a general way. speaking first of the classification of voices, many young singers are put much in doubt and dilemma because they are unable to determine what sort of voice they really possess, whether soprano, mezzo or contralto. of course, it is easy enough to distinguish between the extremes of these, between a "real" tenor and a low bass, but the difference between a high baritone and tenor is rather more difficult to discern, and a young man studying has often been at great disadvantage by imagining, for instance, that he had a tenor voice and trying constantly to sing music too high for him, since he in reality had only a high baritone. in the course of development a voice very often increases its range and changes its quality sufficiently to pass from a baritone to a tenor, and it is sometimes a problem to place it during the transition process. perhaps the surest way to determine the real character of a voice is to see on what notes words can be most easily pronounced. for the average tenor the notes up to a above middle c, for the baritone, d above middle c, and for the bass up to middle c itself, can be pronounced on the best. one should never try to change the tessitura, or natural character of the voice. a voice will become higher just when it should by the development due to rational work and never by forcing it. nothing is easier than to force a voice upward or downward, but to cause it to "recede," as it were, in either direction, is another matter. a baritone who tries to increase his upper range by main strength will surely in time lose his best lower notes, and a light tenor who attempts to force out notes lower than his range will never be able to sing legitimate tenor rôles, and after two or three years may not be able to sing at all. it may be well to speak now of a very important point in singing--what is called the "attack" of the tone. in general this may be described as the relative position of the throat and tongue and the quality of voice as the tone is begun. the most serious fault of many singers is that they attack the tone either from the chest or the throat. even with robust health the finest voice cannot resist this. this is the reason one sees so many artists who have made a brilliant debut disappear from sight very soon or wind up later on a mediocre career. singers who use their voices properly should be at the height of their talents at forty-five and keep their voices in full strength and virility up to at least fifty. at this latter age, or close after it, it would seem well to have earned the right to close one's career. a great artist ought to have the dignity to say farewell to his public when still in full possession of his powers and never let the world apprise him of his falling off. to have the attack true and pure one must consciously try to open the throat not only in front, but from behind, for the throat is the door through which the voice must pass, and if it is not sufficiently open it is useless to attempt to get out a full, round one; also the throat is the outlet and inlet for the breath, and if it is closed the voice will seek other channels or return quenched within. it must not be imagined that to open the mouth wide will do the same for the throat. if one is well versed in the art, one can open the throat perfectly without a perceptible opening of the mouth, merely by the power of respiration. it is necessary to open the sides of the mouth, at the same time dropping the chin well, to obtain good throat opening. in taking higher notes, of course, one must open the mouth a little wider, but for the most part the position of the mouth is that assumed when smiling. it is a good idea to practice opening the throat before a mirror and try to see the palate, as when you show your throat to a doctor. in pronouncing the sound "ah" one must always attack it in the back part of the throat, taking care, however, before uttering the syllable, to have the throat well open; otherwise what is called "stroke of the glottis" occurs and the tone formed is hard and disagreeable. if you ever hear this stroke of glottis on the attack, you may know that the singer did not attack far enough back in the throat. the tone once launched, one must think how it may be properly sustained, and this is where the art of breathing is most concerned. the lungs, in the first place, should be thoroughly filled. a tone begun with only half filled lungs loses half its authority and is very apt to be false in pitch. to take a full breath properly, the chest must be raised at the same moment the abdomen sinks in. then with the gradual expulsion of the breath a contrary movement takes place. the diaphragm and elastic tissue surrounding and containing the stomach and vital organs and the muscles surrounding, by practice acquire great strength and assist considerably in this process of respiration and are vital factors in the matter of controlling the supply which supports the tone. the diaphragm is really like a pair of bellows and serves exactly the same purpose. it is this ability to take in an adequate supply of breath and to retain it until required that makes or, by contrary, mars all singing. a singer with a perfect sense of pitch and all the good intentions possible will often sing off the key and bring forth a tone with no vitality to it, distressing to hear, simply for lack of breath control. this art of respiration once acquired, the student has gone a considerable step on the road to parnassus. to practice deep breathing effectively it is an excellent plan to breathe through the nose, which aids in keeping the confined breath from escaping too soon. the nose also warms and filters the air, making it much more agreeable to the lungs than if taken directly through the mouth. in the practice of slow breathing make sure that the lungs are as nearly emptied as possible on the expulsion of the breath before beginning a new inspiration, as this gives extra impetus to the fresh supply of air and strengthens all the breathing muscles. if this is not done, moreover, the effect is like two people trying to get in and out of the same narrow door at the same time. the voice is naturally divided into three registers--the chest, medium and head. in a man's voice of lower quality this last is known as "falsetto," but in the case of a tenor he may use a tone which in sound is almost falsetto, but is really a mezza voce, or half voice. this latter legitimately belongs to a man's compass; a falsetto does not. the most important register is the medium, particularly of tenors, for this includes the greater part of the tenor's voice and can be utilized even to the top of his range if rightly produced. in the matter of taking high notes one should remember that their purity and ease of production depend very much on the way the preceding notes leading up to them are sung. beginning in the lower register and attacking the ascending notes well back, a balance must be maintained all the way up, so that the highest note receives the benefit and support of the original position of the throat, and there is no danger, consequently, of the throat closing and pinching the quality of the top notes. singers, especially tenors, are very apt to throw the head forward in producing the high notes, and consequently get that throaty, strained voice which is so disagreeable. to avoid this one should try to keep the supply of breath down as far toward the abdomen as possible, thus maintaining the upper passages to the head quite free for the emission of the voice. remember also to sing within yourself, as it were--to feel the tones all through your being; otherwise your singing will possess no sentiment, emotion or authority. it is the failure to accomplish this which has produced so many soulless artists--singers endowed with magnificent voices, capable of surmounting every technical difficulty, but devoid of that charm of intonation which is so vital to success on the operatic stage. faults to be corrected i have previously mentioned mezza voce and will now say a word on this subject, for the artistic use of the "half voice" is a very valuable adjunct in all singing. it may be defined simply as the natural voice produced softly, but with an extra strength of breath. it is this breathy quality, however--which one must be careful never to exaggerate or the tone will not carry--that gives that velvety effect to the tone that is so delightful. mezza voce is just a concentration of the full voice, and it requires, after all, as much breath support. a soft note which is taken with the "head voice" without being supported by a breath taken from the diaphragm is a helpless sort of thing. it does not carry and is inaudible at any distance, whereas the soft note which does possess the deep breath support is penetrating, concentrated and most expressive. another important point is that, with a "piano" note properly taken in the register which is proper to it, there is no danger of having to change the position of the throat and consequently the real character of the note when making a crescendo and again diminishing it. it will be the same note continuing to sound. on the other hand, with a soft note taken in a register foreign to it, as soon as its strength is augmented the register must suddenly be changed and the result is like a tyrolean yodel. so remember in a mezza voce to see that the register is right and to use a double breath strength. i speak of the matter of register here for the benefit of those who must keep this constantly in mind. i myself have been blessed with what is called a naturally placed voice, and never had trouble with the mezza voce. the majority of italian singers come to it easily. there are a number of wrong sorts of voices which should be mentioned to be shunned--the "white" voice, the "throaty" voice, the "nasal" voice, and the "bleat." the nasal quality is the most difficult to correct. many teachers, especially the french, make a point of placing the voice in the nasal cavity on the pretext of strengthening it, and this nasal quality, partly on account of the sound of many of the french words, is only too prevalent. the voice, however, can only be strengthened by legitimate means; otherwise it can easily be ruined. one can breathe through the nose, but never attack or sing through it. the "white voice" (voce bianca) is a head voice without deep support and consequently without color; hence its appellation. one can learn to avoid it by practicing with the mouth closed and by taking care to breathe through the nose, which forces the respiration to descend to the abdomen. the "throaty" voice comes from singing with the throat insufficiently opened, so that the breath does not pass easily through the nose and head cavities and, again, from not attacking the tone deeply enough. to cure oneself of this throaty quality attack your notes from the abdomen, the mouth well open, standing in front of a mirror. the force of the respiration will keep the tongue depressed and the throat will remain free. as for the fault of nasality, it is, as i have said, the most difficult to get rid of. sometimes one never does lose it. the only remedy is what i have previously indicated--to attack from the abdomen, with the throat open, and carry the voice over the soft palate, for if the voice is placed in the nose it indicates that one is singing too far forward, which is against the rules of song. if the student has a tendency to sing in this way it is well to practice in vowel sounds only (ah-eh-ee-la-lay-lee, etc.) in order to be cured of this serious fault. after all, however, those who have practiced the art of right breathing need have none of the defects mentioned above. the "bleat" or goat voice, a particular fault of french singers, proceeds from the habit of forcing the voice, which, when it is of small volume, cannot stand the consequent fatigue of the larynx. many singers with voices suitable only for light opera are constantly trying to branch out into big dramatic arias. such performances are assuredly distressing to hear and are certainly disastrous for the voices concerned. it is no wonder that these people are often ill, for one cannot make such efforts without injuring the health. i realize that they often do it to please their directors and to be obliging in an emergency, but when they are down and out others will easily replace them and they are heard from no more. to keep the voice fresh for the longest possible time one should not only never overstep his vocal "means," but should limit his output as he does the expenses of his purse. there is only one way to cure a bleaty voice, and that is to cultivate an absolute rest; then, on taking up singing again, to use the "closed mouth" method until the time the strength of respiration shall be such that one can open his mouth and let the restored voice take its course. a few words on practicing with closed mouth may here be appropriate. this method of study is really all that is necessary to place certain voices, but is bad for others. it all depends on the formation of the mouth and throat. for example, a singer troubled with the fault of closing the throat too much should never work with the mouth closed. when one can do it safely, however, it is a most excellent resource for preparatory exercises in respiration. since, as i have already explained, breathing through the nose with closed mouth throws back the respiration to the abdomen, it is best to do the exercise seated in a comfortable, natural position. vocal work with closed mouth is also a powerful auxiliary to vocal agility. many great artists perform their daily vocal exercises with the mouth shut, and i can personally testify to the excellency of this practice. it most certainly strengthens the breathing powers and at the same time rests the voice. but one should know how to do it properly. i know of many badly fatigued voices that have been restored to their normal condition in this way. singers, of all musicians, have the reputation of displaying the least regard for time. in operatic work, however, with an orchestra to follow or be followed, it is especially essential to observe a sane respect for the proper tempo. otherwise one is liable to get into immediate trouble with the conductor. of course i do not mean that one should sing in a mechanical way and give nothing of one's own personality. this would naturally rob the music of all charm. there are many singers who cannot or will not count the time properly. there are those who sing without method, who do not fit their breathing, which is really the regulator of vocal performance, to the right periods, and who consequently are never in time. they make all kinds of rallentandos where they are not necessary, to gain time to recover the breath that they have not taken when they should. it is not enough to give the notes their full value. the rests, above all, should be carefully observed in order to have sufficient opportunity to get a good breath and prepare for the next phrase. it is this exactitude that gives certainty to one's rendition and authority in singing--something many artists do not possess. a singer may make all the efforts he desires and still keep the time, and he _must_ keep it. those who roar most loudly rarely sing in time. they give every thought to the volume of tone they are producing and do not bother themselves about anything else. the right accents in music depend very much on the exact time. tone artists, while still making all their desired "effects" in apparent freedom of style and delivery, nevertheless do not ever lose sight of the time. those who do are usually apt to be amateurs and are not to be imitated. good diction a requisite good diction, or the art of pronouncing the words of a song or opera properly and intelligently, is a matter sadly neglected by many singers, and indeed is not considered important by a large proportion of the audiences in this country, who do not understand foreign language, at any rate. and in an opera sung in a language unknown to most of the audience it is apparently unimportant whether the words are understood or not as long as there is a general knowledge of the plot, and the main consideration is, of course, the music. yet for those who are conversant with the language in which the opera is written, how common an experience it is (in concert, also) to be able, in spite of their linguistic knowledge, to understand little of what is being sung, and what a drawback this really is! how many singers there are who seem to turn all their attention to the production of beautiful sounds and neglect in most cases the words that often are equally beautiful, or should be! one hears a great deal just now about the advisability of giving operas in the native language, as it is done in france and germany, and the idea would seem to have its advantages, as has already been demonstrated in some excellent performances of german, french and italian operas in english. but of what avail would such a project be if, after all, one could not understand the words of his own language as they were sung? the language might as well be sanskrit or chinese. in france the matter of diction is probably given the greatest attention, and singers at the opera comique, for instance, are noted for their pure and distinct enunciation of every syllable. indeed, it is as much of a sine qua non there as good singing, if not more so, and the numerous subtleties in the french language are difficult enough to justify this special stress laid upon correct pronunciation. it requires a very particular ability in a foreigner to attain the atmosphere of perfect french to any very high degree. italian is generally considered an easier language to pronounce in song, as indeed it is, all the vowel sounds being full and sonorous and lacking that "covered" or mixed quality so often occurring in the french. nevertheless, italian has its difficulties, particularly in the way of distinctly enunciating the double consonants and proper division of the liaisons, or combining of final vowels with initial vowels, and the correct amount of softness to be given to the letter c. all this, of course, is from the standpoint of those to whom these languages are foreign. certainly no singer can be called a great artist unless his diction is good, for a beautiful voice alone will not make up for other deficiencies. a singer endowed with a small voice or even one of not very pleasing quality can give more pleasure than a singer possessing a big, impressive voice, but no diction. some people claim that a pronunciation too distinct or too much insisted upon spoils the real voice quality, but this should not be the case if the words are correctly and naturally brought out. doubtless, this impression has come from the fact that, particularly in france, many singers possessed of small voices must exaggerate their diction to obtain their effects. but if they did not have this perfect diction they often would have little else to recommend them. i would aver that a fine enunciation, far from interfering with it, aids the voice production, makes it softer and more concentrated, but diction should act rather as a frame for the voice and never replace it. each of the three languages, french, german and italian, has its peculiar characteristics, which are of aid to the student in the general study of pronunciation, and it is well to have a knowledge of them all outside of the fact that an artist nowadays needs to have this knowledge in order not only to rank with the greatest, but to cope with the demands of an operatic career. the italian language in its very essence is rich in vowels and vowel combinations, from which comes principally the color in tones, and it has consequently been called the "language of song." italians thus have naturally what it is so much trouble for singers of other nations to acquire--the numerous variations of vowel sounds. french has the nasal sounds as its dominating characteristic and is very valuable in the cultivation of "nasal resonance." as i said before, it is so easy to exaggerate and the voice is so apt to get too much "in the nose" that one has to be extremely careful in the use of the french "n" and "ng." german is so full of consonants that one needs to have exceptional control of the tongue and lips to give their proper value. english possesses the features of all the other languages--of course, in less marked degree--resembling most, perhaps, the german. the "th" is the most difficult sound to make effective in singing. i have already spoken of the various phases of nervousness which an artist feels before the performance, but i wish to say here a word in regard to the practical significance of such nervousness. artists who do not experience it are those who lack real genius. there are really two kinds of fear--that arising from a realization of the importance of what is to be done, the other from a lack of confidence in one's power. if a singer has no conscience in his performance he is never nervous, but full of assurance. it is seldom that true artists are much troubled with nervousness after going upon the stage. generally, as i have before mentioned, they are apt to be ill during the day of the performance, but before the public they forget everything and are dominated only by the real love of their art and sustained by the knowledge of possessing a proper "method." it is certain with a good breath support even nervousness need not prevent one from singing well, although one may be actually suffering from trepidation. yet we know that sometimes the greatest of artists are prevented thus from doing their best work. the principle, however, remains unshaken that singing in a correct way is the greatest possible "bracer." it is best to remain absolutely quiet and see no one on the day of the performance, so as not to be enervated by the effort of talking much, to say nothing of tiring the vocal chords. one prima donna of my acquaintance occupies herself in trimming hats on the day when she sings, believing that this provides a distraction and rests her nerves. it is just as well not to "pass through" the rôle that is to be sung on the day of the appearing, but in the morning a few technical exercises to keep the voice in tune, as it were, are to be recommended. the great italian singers of other days followed this rule, and it still holds good. if the singer gives much of himself as well as of his voice to the public he should still hold his breathing supply in, so to speak, as he would guard the capital from which comes his income. failure should thus be impossible if there is always a reserve to draw on. so the more one sings with good breath support the more beautiful the voice becomes. on the other hand, those who sing haphazard sometimes begin the evening well, but deteriorate more and more as the performance advances and at the end are uttering mere raucous sounds. they are like a man unable to swim who is in a deep river--their voices control them in place of they controlling their voices. they struggle vainly against obstacles, but are carried away by the flood and are finally engulfed in the waters. many too ambitious students are their own worst enemies in the culture of their voices. because they have a large vocal power they want to shout all the time in spite of the repeated admonitions of their masters, who beg them to sing piano. but they hear nothing except the noise they make themselves. such headstrong ones will never make a career, even with the finest voices in the world. their teachers should give up trying to make them listen to reason and devote their attention to those who merit it and want to study seriously. singing as an art is usually not considered with enough earnestness. one should go to a singing master as one goes to a specialist for a consultation and follow with the greatest care his directions. if one does not have the same respect and confidence one places in a physician it must be because the singing master does not really merit it, and it would be much better to make a change at once. in general it is better not to stick entirely to one teacher, for it is easy to get into a rut in this way, and someone else may have a quite different and more enlightening way of setting forth his ideas. in taking up operatic work it is understood, of course, that the singer must have mastered most of the technical difficulties, so as not to be troubled with them when they are encountered in some aria. it is a most excellent thing to secure an engagement in one of the small theatres abroad, where one may get a large experience before trying to effect an entrance into the bigger organizations of the great capitals. but be sure that the voice is well placed before trying any of this sort of work, and never attempt to sing a rôle above your powers in the earlier stage of your career, which otherwise may be compromised permanently. one more bit of advice in closing. the best sort of lesson possible is to go often to the opera and note well the methods of the great artists. this personal example is worth more and is more illuminating than many precepts. this is not so much that any form of imitation may be attempted as to teach the would-be artist how to present at his best all those telling qualities with which he may be endowed. it is the best of schools. pet superstitions of great singers the most visible phase of the opera singer's life when he or she is in view of the public on the stage is naturally the one most intimately connected in the minds of the majority of people with the singer's personality, and yet there are many happenings, amusing or tragic, from the artist's point of view, which, though often seen, are as often not realized in their true significance by the audience in front of the orchestra. one might naturally think that a singer who has been appearing for years on the operatic stage in many lands would have overcome or outgrown that bane of all public performers, stage fright. yet such is far from the case, for it seems as though the greater the artistic temperament the more truly the artist feels and the more of himself he puts into the music he sings the greater his nervousness beforehand. the latter is of course augmented if the performance is a first night and the opera has as yet been untried before a larger public. this advance state of miserable physical tension is the portion of all great singers alike, though in somewhat varying degrees, and it is interesting to note the forms it assumes with different people. in many it is shown by excessive irritability and the disposal to pick quarrels with anyone who comes in contact with them. this is an unhappy time for the luckless "dressers," wig man and stage hands, or even fellow artists who encounter such singers before their first appearance in the evening. trouble is the portion of all such. in other artists the state of mind is indicated by a stern set countenance and a ghastly pallor, while still others become slightly hysterical, laugh uproariously at nothing or burst into weeping. i have seen a big six-foot bass singer, very popular at the opera two or three seasons ago, walking to and fro with the tears running down his cheeks for a long time before his entrance, and one of our greatest coloratura prima donnas has come to me before the opera, sung a quavering note in a voice full of emotion and said, with touching accents: "see, that is the best i can do. how can i go on so?" i myself have been affected often by such fright, though not always in the extreme degree above described. this nervousness, however, frequently shows itself in one's performance in the guise of indifferent acting, singing off the key, etc. artists are generally blamed for such shortcomings, apparent in the early part of the production, when, as a matter of fact, they themselves are hardly conscious of them and overcome them in the course of the evening. yet the public, even critics, usually forget this fact and condemn an entire performance for faults which are due at the beginning to sheer nervousness. the oft-uttered complaint that operatic singers are the most difficult to get on with of any folk, while justified, perhaps, can certainly be explained by the foregoing observations. we of the opera are often inclined to be superstitious in a way that might annul matter of fact americans. one woman, a distinguished and most intelligent artist, crosses herself repeatedly before taking her "cue," and a prima donna who is a favorite on two continents and who is always escorted to the theatre by her mother, invariably goes through the very solemn ceremony of kissing her mother good-by and receiving her blessing before going on to sing. the young woman feels that she could not possibly sing a note if the mother's eye were not on her every moment from the wings. another famous singer wears a small bracelet that was given to her when an infant by gounod. she has grown somewhat stout of late years, and the hoop of gold has been reënforced so often that there is hardly any of the great composer's original gift left. still, she feels that it is a charm which has made her success, and whether she sings the part of a lowly peasant or of a princess the bracelet is always visible. and these little customs are not confined to the woman singers either, for the men are equally fond of observing some little tradition to cheer them in their performance. these little traits, trivial perhaps in themselves, are of vital importance in that they create a sense of security in the soul of the artist, who goes on his way, if not rejoicing, at least convinced that the fates are not against him. one of the penalties paid by the singers who are much in the public eye is the constant demand made on them to listen to voices of vocal aspirants--not always very young ones, strange to say. it is sad to contemplate the number of people who think they can sing and are destined by talent and temperament for operatic careers, who have been led by misguided or foolish friends and too often by overambitious and mercenary singing masters into spending time and money on their voices in the fond hope of some day astonishing the world. alas, they do not realize that the great singers who are heard in the new york opera houses have been picked from the world's supply after a process of most drastic selection, and that it is only the most rarely exceptional voice and talent which after long years of study and preparation become worthy to join the elect. i am asked to hear many who have voices with promise of beauty, but who have obviously not the intelligence necessary to take up a career, for it does require considerable intelligence to succeed in opera, in spite of opinions to the contrary expressed by many. others, who have keen and alert minds and voices of fine quality, yet lack that certain esprit and broadness of musical outlook required in a great artist. this lack is often so apparent in the person's manner or bearing that i am tempted to tell him it is no use before he utters a note. yet it would not do to refuse a hearing to all these misfits, for there is always the chance of encountering the unknown genius, however rare a bird he may be. and how often have the world's great voices been discovered by chance, but fortunately by some one empowered to bring out the latent gift! one finds in america many beautiful voices, and when one thinks of the numerous singers successfully engaged in operatic careers both here and abroad, it cannot with justice be said as it used to be several years ago that america does not produce opera singers. naturally a majority of those to whom i give a hearing here in new york are americans, and of these are a number of really remarkable voices and a fairly good conception of what is demanded of an opera singer. sometimes, however, it would be amusing if it were not tragic to see how much off the track people are who have been led to think they have futures. one young man who came recently to sing for me carried a portentous roll of music and spoke in the deepest of bass voices. when asked what his main difficulty was he replied that he "didn't seem to be able to get on the key." and this was apparent when he started in and wandered up and down the tonal till he managed to strike the tonic. then he asked me whether i would rather hear "qui sdegno," from mozart's "magic flute," or "love me and the world is mine." upon the latter being chosen he asked the accompanist to transpose it, and upon this gentleman's suggesting a third lower, he said: "no, put it down an octave." and that's where he sang it, too. i gently but firmly advised the young man to seek other paths than musical ones. however, such extreme examples as that are happily rare. i would say to all young people who are ambitious to enter on a career of opera: remember, it is a thoroughly hard-worked profession, after all; that even with a voice of requisite size and proper cultivation there is still a repertory of rôles to acquire, long months and years of study for this and requiring a considerable feat of memory to retain them even after they are learned. then there is the art of acting to be studied, which is, of course, an entire occupation in itself and decidedly necessary in opera, including fencing--how to fall properly, the various gaits and gestures wherewith to portray different emotions, etc. then, as opera is sung nowadays, the knowledge of the diction of at least three languages--french, german and italian--if not essential, is at least most helpful. the renaissance of the vocal art a practical study of vitality, vitalized energy, of the physical, mental and emotional powers of the singer, through flexible, elastic bodily movements by edmund j. myer f.s. sc. (london) _author of "truths of importance to vocalists," "the voice from a practical stand-point," "voice-training exercises" (a study of the natural movements of the voice), "vocal reinforcement," "position and action in singing," etc., etc._ "_when you see something new to you in art, or hear a proposition in philosophy you never heard before, do not make haste to ridicule, deny or refute. possibly the trouble is with yourself--who knows?_" preface. to my readers once again through this little work, greetings. for the many kind things said of my former works by my friends, my pupils, the critic and the profession, thanks! to those who have understood and appreciated the principles laid down in my last book, "position and action in singing," i will say that this little work will be an additional help. to my readers in general, who may not have fully understood or appreciated the principles of vitality, of vitalized energy, aroused and developed through the movements set forth in my last book, to such i will say that i hope this little work will make clearer those principles. i hope that it may lead them to a better understanding of the fundamental principles of the system, principles which are founded upon natural laws and common sense. in this work i have endeavored to logically formulate my system. as it is not possible to fully study and develop any one fundamental principle of singing without some understanding or mastery of all others, so it is not possible to write a work like this without more or less repetition. certain subjects are so closely related, are so interdependent, that repetition cannot be avoided. i am not offering an apology for this; i am simply stating that a certain amount of repetition is necessary. contents. preface exordium part first. _evolution_. article . the old italian school of singing " . the dark ages of the vocal art " . the two prevailing systems " . the renaissance of the vocal art " . the coming school or system " . conditions " . the influence of right bodily action raison d'Être part second. _vitality_. article . the first principle of artistic tone-production " . the second principle of artistic tone-production " . the third principle of artistic tone-production part third. _aesthetics_. article . the fourth principle of artistic singing " . the fifth principle of artistic singing " . the sixth principle of artistic singing " . the seventh principle of artistic singing exordium. man, to see far and clearly, must rise above his surroundings. to win great possessions, to master great truths, we must climb all the hills, all the mountains, which confront us. unfortunately the vocal profession dwells too much upon the lowlands of tradition, or is buried too deep in the valleys of prejudice. better things, however, will come. they must come. the current of the advanced thought, the higher thought, of this, the opening year of the twentieth century, will slowly but surely increase in power and influence, will slowly but surely broaden and deepen, until the light of reason breaks upon the vocal world. we may confidently look, in the near future, for the renaissance of the vocal art. part first. _evolution._ article one. the old italian school of singing. the shibboleth, or trade cry, of the average modern vocal teacher is "the old italian school of singing." how much of value there is in this may be surmised when we stop to consider that of the many who claim to teach the true old italian method no two of them teach at all alike, unless they happen to be pupils of the same master. a system, a method, or a theory is not true simply because it is old. it may be old and true; it may be old and false. it may be new and false; or, what is more important, it may be new and yet true; age alone cannot stamp it with the mark of truthfulness. the truth is, we know but little of the old italian school of singing. we do know, however, that the old italians were an emotional and impulsive people. their style of singing was the flexible, florid, coloratura style. this demanded freedom of action and emotional expression, which more largely than anything else accounts for their success. the old italians knew little or nothing of the science of voice as we know it to-day. they did know, however, the great fundamental principles of singing, which are freedom of form and action, spontaneity and naturalness. they studied nature, and learned of her. their style of singing, it is true, would be considered superficial at the present day, but it is generally conceded that they did make a few great singers. if the principles of the old school had not been changed or lost, if they had been retained and developed up to the present day, what a wonderful legacy the vocal profession might have inherited in this age, the beginning of the twentieth century. adversity, however, develops art as well as individuality; hence the vocal art has much to expect in the future. article two. the dark age of the vocal art. even in the palmiest days of the old italian school, there were forces at work which were destined to influence the entire vocal world. the subtle influence of these forces was felt so gradually, and yet so surely and powerfully, that while the profession, as one might say, peacefully slept, art was changed to artificiality. thus arose that which may be called the dark ages of the vocal art,--an age when error overshadowed truth and reason; for while real scientists, after great study and research, discovered much of the true science of voice, many who styled themselves scientists discovered much that they imagined was the true science of voice. upon the theories advanced by self-styled scientists, many systems of singing were based, without definite proof as to their being true or false. these systems were exploited for the benefit of those who formulated them. this condition of things prevailed, not only through the latter part of the eighteenth century and the first half of the nineteenth, but still manifests itself at the present day, and no doubt will continue to do so for many years to come. the vocal world undoubtedly owes much to the study and research of the true scientist. all true art is based upon science, and none more than the art of voice and of singing. science is knowledge of facts co-ordinated, arranged, and systematized; hence science is truth. the object of science is knowledge; the object of art is works. in art, truth is the means to an end; in science, truth is the end. the science of voice is a knowledge of certain phenomena or movements which are found under certain conditions to occur regularly. the object of the true art of voice is to study the conditions which allow these phenomena to occur. the greatest mistake of the many systems of singing, formulated upon the theories of the scientists, and of the so-called scientists, was not so much in their being based upon theories which oftentimes were wrong, as in the misunderstanding and misapplication of true theories. the general mistake of these systems was and is that they attempt by direct local effort, by direct manipulation of muscle, to compel the phenomena of voice, instead of studying the conditions which allow them to occur. in this way they attempt to do by direct control, that which nature alone can do correctly. while it is true that the vocal world owes much to science and the scientists, yet "the highest science can never fully explain the true phenomena of the voice, which are truly the phenomena of nature." the phenomena of the voice no doubt interest the scientists from an anatomical standpoint, but these things are of little practical value to the singer. as someone has said, "to examine into the anatomical construction of the larynx, to watch it physiologically, and learn to understand the motions of the vocal cords in their relation to vocal sounds, is not much more than looking at the dial of a clock; the movements of the hands will give you no idea of the construction of the intricate works hidden behind the face of the clock." we should never lose sight of the fact that there is a true science of voice, and that the art of song is based upon this science. the true art of song, however, is not so much a direct study of the physical or mechanical action of the parts, as it is a study of the spirituelle side; a study of the forces which move the parts automatically, in accordance with the laws of nature. in other words, voice, true voice, is more psychological than physiological; is more an expression of mind and soul than a physical expression or a physical force. it is true, the body is the medium through which the soul, the real man, gives expression to thought and feeling; and yet voice that is simply mechanical or physical is always common and meaningless and as a rule unmusical. the normal condition of true artistic voice is emotional and soulful. article three. the two prevailing systems. the misunderstanding or the misapplication of any principle, theory or device, always leads to error. this was eminently true of the misunderstanding and misapplication on the part of many writers and teachers who based their systems upon the theories of the scientists and the self-styled scientists. the result is evident; it is that which is known as the local-effort, muscular school of the nineteenth century; the school which to this day so largely prevails; the school which makes of man a mere vocal machine, instead of a living, emotional, thinking soul. the local-effort school attempts, by direct control and manipulation of muscle and of the vocal parts, to compel the phenomena of voice. in this respect it is unique; in this respect it stands alone. the truth of this statement becomes evident when we stop to consider that in nothing known which requires muscular development, as does the art of singing, is this development or training secured by direct manipulation and control of muscle. there is nothing in the arts or sciences, nothing in the broad field of athletics or physical culture, nothing in the wide world that requires physical development, in which the attempt is made to develop by direct effort as does the local-effort school. hence we say the mistake they make is in attempting to compel the phenomena of voice, instead of studying the conditions which allow them to occur. it might be interesting, it certainly would be very amusing, to enumerate and illustrate the many things done under the name of science, to compel the phenomena of voice; but space will not permit. many of them are well known; many more are too ridiculous to consider except that they should be exposed for the good of the profession. the result of all this direct manipulation of muscle is ugliness--everywhere hard, unmusical, unsympathetic voices. the public is so used to hearing hard, muscular voices that the demand for beautiful tone is not what it should be. in fact, it is not generally known that it is possible to make almost any voice more or less beautiful that is at all worth training. the hard, unmusical voice of the day is a hybrid, unnatural and altogether unnecessary voice. physical effort in singing develops physical tone and physical effect. common tone makes common singing. a great artist must be great in tone as well as in interpretation. the disciples of the local-effort school lose sight of the fact that when a muscle is set and rigid, either in attempting to hold the breath or to force the tone, it is virtually out of action; that instead of actually helping the voice it is really preventing a free, natural production, and that other parts are then compelled to do its work; this accounts for many ruined voices. "to make a part rigid is equal to the extirpation of such part. while it is in a state of rigidity it ceases to take part in any action whatsoever: it is inert and the same as if it had ceased to exist." the local-effort school is accountable for many errors of the day. the incubus of this school is fastened upon the vocal profession with octopus-like tentacles which reach out in every direction, and which strive to strangle the truth in every possible way; but, while "life is short, art is long;" the truth must prevail. * * * * * as an outgrowth of the local-effort school, and as an attempt to counteract its evil tendencies, there is to-day in existence another school or system known as the limp or relaxed school, or the system of complete relaxation. the object of this relaxation is to overcome muscular tension and rigidity. this is the other extreme. the followers of this school forget that there can be no tonicity without tension. flexible firmness without rigidity, the result of flexible, vitalized position and action, is the only true condition. the tone of the school of relaxation is nearly always depressed and breathy; it always lacks vitality. article four. the renaissance of the vocal art. we are in the habit of measuring time by days, weeks, months, years, decades and centuries. the world at large measures time by epochs and eras. while this is true in the physical world, it is equally true of the arts and sciences, and it is especially true of the art of song. thus we have had the period known as "the old italian school of singing." this was followed by the modern school, or "the local-effort school" of the nineteenth century, the period which may be called the dark ages of the vocal art. there is a constant evolution in all things progressive, and this evolution is felt very perceptibly to-day in the vocal world. great principles, great truths, are of slow growth, slow development. times change, however, and we change with them. while the changes may be slow and almost imperceptible to the observer, they are sure, and finally become evident by the accumulation of event after event. the prevailing systems of the nineteenth century tried to develop voice by direct local muscular effort. these systems have proved themselves failures. the vocal world is looking for and demanding something better. we may say that we are now on the eve of great events in the vocal art. when the morn comes, and the light breaks, we may confidently expect that awakening or reawakening which may properly be called the renaissance of the vocal art. this is the age of physical culture in all its forms. there is a tendency from the artificial habits of life, back, or rather one should say forward, to nature and nature's laws. "athletes appreciate the value of physical training: brain-workers appreciate the value of mental training, of thinking before acting, and if you would become either you must follow the methods of both." many of our foremost educators in all branches of development, physical, mental and musical, are now making a bold stand for natural methods of education. however, all vocal training and development in the past, we are glad to say, has not been on the wrong side of the question. there have been, at all ages and under all circumstances and conditions, men who have been at the root or the bottom of things,--men who have preserved the truth in spite of their surroundings. so in the vocal art, there have been at every decade a few men who have known the truth, and who have handed it down through the dark ages of the vocal art. the work of these men has not been lost. its influence has been felt, and is today more powerful than ever. hence the trend of the best thought of the profession is away from the ideas of the local-effort school, away from rigidity and artificiality, and more in the direction of naturalness and common sense. i believe we are now, as a profession, slowly but surely awakening to truths which will grow, and which will in time bring to pass that which must come sooner or later, the new school of the twentieth century. there is to-day that which is known as "the new movement in the vocal art"--a movement based upon natural laws and common sense and opposed to the ideas of the local-effort school;--movement in the direction of freedom of action, spontaneity and flexible strength as opposed to rigidity and direct effort;--a movement which advocates vitalized energy instead of muscular effort;--a movement which had its origin in the belief that no man ever learned to sing because he locally fixed or puckered his lips; because he held down his tongue with a spatulum or a spoon; because he locally lowered or raised his soft palate; because he consciously moved or locally fixed his larynx; because he consciously, rigidly set or firmly pulled in one direction or another, his breathing muscles; because he carried an unnaturally high chest at the sacrifice of form, position and strength in every other way; because he sang with a stick or a pencil or a cork in his mouth; or because he did a hundred other unnatural things too foolish to mention. no man ever learned or ever will learn to sing because of these things. it is true he may have learned to sing in spite of them, which shows that nature is kind; but as compared to the whole, he is one in a thousand. "the new movement" has come to stay. it will, of course, meet with bitter opposition. why not? the custom of many has been, and is, to condemn without investigation; to condemn because it does not happen to be in the line of their teaching and study. someone has said, "he who condemns without knowledge or investigation is dishonest." "the new movement" is simply a study of the conditions which allow the phenomena of voice to occur naturally and automatically. the day will come, when a right training of the voice will be recognized as a flexible, artistic, physical training of the human body, and a consequent right use of the voice, as a soulful expression of the emotional nature. matter or muscle will be taught to obey mind or will spontaneously. the thought before the effort, or rather before the action, will be the controlling influence, and vitalized emotional energy will be the true motor power of the voice. the elocutionists and the physical culturists understand this far better, as a rule, than the vocalists. abuse brings reform in art as well as in all other things. so the abuse of nature's laws and the lack of common sense in the training of the singing voice has led, through a gradual evolution, to "the new movement." this movement is the outgrowth of the best or advanced thought of the profession rebelling against unnatural methods. in the fundamental principles of "the new movement," there is nothing new claimed by its advocates. all is founded upon the science of voice, as are all true systems of teaching. the claims are made with regard to the devices used to study natural laws, to develop the god-given powers of the singer. remember that nature incarnates or reflects god's thoughts and desires and not man's ideas or inventions. someone has said that there was nothing new, nor could there be anything new, in the art of singing. there are many, alas! who talk and write as did this man. is not this simply proof of the fact that ignorance cheapens and belittles that which wisdom views with awe and admiration? and this is true of nothing so much as it is of the arts and sciences. is, then, ours in all the world, the only profession based upon science and art that must stand still, that must accept blindly the traditions handed down to us, without investigation? are we to feel and believe that with us progress is impossible, that we may not and cannot keep up with the spirit of the age? god forbid. is it not true that "each age refutes much which a previous age believed, and all things human wax old and vanish away to make room for new developments, new ideals, new possibilities"? is it possible this is true of all professions but ours? the signs of the times indicate differently. hence we may confidently expect the renaissance of the vocal art in this, the first half of the new century. article five. the coming school, or system. this is an age of progress; and, as we have said, many educators are making a bold stand for natural, common-sense methods. the trend of the higher thought of the vocal profession is away from artificiality, and in the direction of naturalness. the coming school, or system, of the twentieth century will undoubtedly find its form, its power, its expressional and artistic force and value, its home, its life, in america. the old country is too much in the toils, too much in the ruts of tradition; hence natural forces are suppressed, and artificiality reigns supreme in the training of the voice. while this is not true in regard to the strictly aesthetic side of the question, it is painfully true as far as the fundamental principles of voice development are concerned. of course we are glad to say there are bright and shining exceptions to this rule in all lands, but to the new country we must undoubtedly look for the new school. so far the world has produced but two great teachers. the first of these is nature; the second is common sense. nature lays down the fundamental principles of voice; common sense formulates the devices for development according to these principles. therefore we say, go to nature and learn of her, and use common sense in studying and developing her principles. the nearer the approach to nature, the higher the art; hence the new school must be founded upon artistic laws which are nature's laws, and not upon artificiality. the coming school must teach the idealized tone. the ideal in its completeness means the truth,--all the truth,--and not, as many suppose, an exaggerated form of expression. the truth in tone, or the idealized tone, is beautiful and soulful, and demands for its production and use all the forces that nature has given to the singer,--physical, mental, and emotional or spirituelle. unmusical, muscular tone is not the true tone. it contains much that it should not have on the physical side, and lacks much that it should have on the spirituelle. as a rule, it means nothing; in fact, it is often simply a noise. the idealized tone always represents a thought, an idea, an emotion; it is the expression of the inner--the higher--man; it is, in reality, self-expression. "the human voice is the most delicately attuned musical instrument that god has created. it is capable of a cultivation beyond the dreams of those who have given it no thought. it maybe made to express every emotion in the gamut of human sensation, from abject misery to boundless ecstasy. it marks the man without his consent; it makes the man if he will but cultivate it." the coming school must be founded upon freedom of form and action, upon flexible bodily movements, the result of vitalized energy instead of muscular effort. there must be no set, rigid, static condition of the muscles. artistic singing is a form of self-expression; and self-expression, to be natural and beautiful, must be the result of correct position and action. the first principle of artistic singing is the removal of all restraint. this is a fundamental law of nature and cannot be changed. under the influence of direct local muscular effort, the removal of all restraint is impossible. hence the coming school must be based upon free flexible action. in this respect it will be much like the old italian school, except that it will be as far in advance of the old school in the science of voice as the twentieth century is in advance of the eighteenth. it must also be far in advance of the old school in the devices used to develop the fundamental principles of voice. in this age of progress and knowledge of laws and facts, the new school, under the influence of nature's laws and common sense, with the aid of flexible movements and vitalized energy, must do as much for the development of the singing voice in three or four years as the old school was able to do in eight or ten. this is necessary, both because the singing world demands it, and nature and common sense teach us that it does not take years and years of hard study and practice simply to develop the voice. from a strictly musical standpoint, however, it does take years to ripen a great singer, to make a great artist. many voices are ruined musically by years of hard, muscular practice. hence we say the new school must give the voice freedom, and remove all muscular restraint by or through natural, common-sense, vitalized movements. article six. conditions. nature's laws are god's laws. all nature, the universe itself, is an expression of god's thoughts or desires in accordance with his laws. this one controlling force, this principle of law, is at the bottom of everything in nature and art. everything which man says or does under normal, free conditions, is self-expression, an expression of his inner nature; but this expression must be under the law. if not, the expression is unnatural and therefore artificial. this principle, which holds true in all of man's expression, in all art, is in nothing more evident than in the use of the singing voice. "nature does nothing for man except what she enables him to do for himself." nature gives him much, but never compels him to use what she gives. man is a free agent. he can obey or violate the laws of nature at will; but he cannot violate nature's laws, and not pay the penalty. this thought or principle constantly stands out as a warning to the vocal world. the student of the voice who violates nature's laws must not expect to escape the penalty, which is hard, harsh, unmusical tone or ruined voice. nature demands certain conditions in order to produce beautiful, artistic tone. if the student of the voice desires to develop beautiful, artistic tone he is compelled to study the conditions, the fundamental principles under the law; and this can be done only by the use of common-sense methods. all artistic tone is the result of certain conditions, conditions demanded by nature and not man's ideas or fancies. these conditions are dependent upon form and adjustment, or we might better say adjustment and form, as form is the result of the adjustment of the parts. so far all writers on the voice, and all teachers, agree; but here comes the parting of the ways. one man attempts form and adjustment by locally influencing the parts,--the tongue, the lips, the soft palate, the larynx, etc. this results in muscular singing and artificiality. we have found that form and adjustment, to be right, must be automatic. this condition cannot be secured by any system of direct local effort, but must be the result of flexible, vitalized bodily movements--movements which arouse and develop all the true conditions of tone; movements which allow the voice to sing spontaneously. the fundamental conditions of singing demanded by nature we find are as follows: natural or automatic adjustment of the organ of sound, and of all the parts. approximation of the breath bands. inflation of all the cavities. non-interference above the organ of sound. automatic breath-control. freedom of form and action of all the parts above the larynx. high placing and low resonance. automatic articulation. mental and emotional vitality or energy. free, flexible, vitalized bodily position and action. it is not my intention here to enlarge upon these conditions to any extent. i have already done so in my last book, "position and action in singing." i know many writers on the voice, and many teachers, do not agree with me on this subject of conditions; but facts are stubborn things, and "a physical fact is as sacred as a moral principle." "the sources of all phenomena, the sources of all life, intelligence and love, are to be sought in the internal--the spiritual realm; not in the external or material." "a man is considerably out of date who says he does not believe a thing, simply because he cannot do that thing or does not understand how the thing is done. there are three classes of people--the 'wills,' the 'won'ts,' and the 'can'ts': the first accomplish everything, the second oppose everything, and the third fail in everything." these things [these conditions] can be understood and fully appreciated by investigation only. there is no absolute definite knowledge in this world except that gained from experience. the voice in correct use is always tuned like an instrument. this must be in order to have resonance and freedom, and this is done only through natural or automatic adjustment of all the parts. in singing there are always two forces in action, pressure and resistance, or motor power and control. in order to have automatic adjustment these two forces must prevail. when the organ of sound is automatically adjusted, the breath bands approximate: this gives the true resisting or controlling force. when the breath bands approximate we have inflation of the ventricles of the larynx, the most important of all the resonance cavities, for when this condition prevails we have freedom of tone, and the inflation of all other cavities. and not only this; it also enables us to remove all restraint or interference from the parts above the larynx, and especially from the intrinsic and extrinsic muscles of the throat. this automatic adjustment, approximation of the breath bands and inflation of the ventricles, gives us a yet more important condition, namely, automatic breath control; this is beyond question the most important of all problems solved for the singer through this system of flexible vitalized movements. the removal of all interference or direct local control of the parts above the larynx, gives absolute freedom of form and action; and when the form and action are free, articulation becomes automatic and spontaneous. when all restraint is thus removed, the air current comes to the front, and we secure the important condition of high placing. furthermore, under these conditions, when the air current strikes the roof of the mouth freely, it is reflected into the inflated cavities, and there is heard and felt, through sympathetic vibration of the air in the cavities, added resonance or the wonderful reinforcing power of inflation: in this way is secured not only the added resonance of all other cavities, but especially the resonance of the chest, the greatest of all resonance or reinforcing powers. when the voice is thus freed under true conditions, it is possible to arouse easily and quickly the mental and emotional power and vitality of the singer. in this way is aroused that which i have called the singer's sensation, or, for want of a better name, the third power of the voice. this power is not a mere fancy. it is not imagination; for it is absolutely necessary to the complete mental and emotional expression of the singer, to the development of all his powers. this life or vital force is to the singer a definite, controllable power. "various terms have been applied to this mysterious force. plato called it 'the soul of the world.' others called it the 'plastic spirit of the world,' while descartes gave it the afterward popular name of 'animal spirits.' the stoics called it simply 'nature,' which is now generally changed to 'nervous principle.'" "the far-reaching results of so quiet and yet so tremendous a force may be seen in the lives of the men and women who have the mental acumen to understand what is meant by it." the singer who has developed and controlled "the third power" through the true conditions of voice, never doubts its reality; and he, and he only, is able to fully appreciate it. the development of all the above conditions depends upon one important thing, the education of the body; upon a free, flexible, vitalized body. article seven. the influence of right bodily action. in art, as in all things else, man must be under the law until he becomes a law unto himself. in other words, he must study his technique, his method, his art, until all becomes a part of himself, becomes, as it were, second nature. there is a wide difference between art and artificiality. true art is based upon nature's laws. artificiality, in almost every instance, is a violation of nature's laws, and at best is but a poor imitation. the impression prevails that art is something far off, something that is within the grasp of the favored few only. we say of a man, he is a genius, and we bow down to him accordingly. the genius is an artist by the grace of god and his own efforts. nature has given some men the power to easily and quickly grasp and understand things which pertain to art, but if such men do not apply their understanding they never become great or useful artists. talent is the ability to study and apply, and is of a little lower order than genius; but the genius of application, and the talent to apply that which is learned, have made the great and useful men, the great artists of the world. as someone has said, "art is not a thing separate and apart; art is only the best way of doing things;" and while this is true of all the arts, it is eminently so of the art of voice and of song. artistic tone, as we have found, is the result of certain conditions demanded by nature. these conditions are dependent upon form and adjustment; and form and adjustment, to be right, must be automatic. all writers and teachers agree that correct tone is the result of form and adjustment; but here, as we have said, comes the parting of the ways. one man attempts, by directly controlling and adjusting the parts, to do that which nature alone can do correctly; result--hard, muscular tone. another attempts, by relaxation, to secure the conditions of tone; result--vocal depression, or depressed, relaxed tone. if artistic tone be the result of conditions due to form and adjustment, and if form and adjustment, to be right, must be automatic, if these things are true, and they are as true as the fact that the world moves, then there is only one way under heaven by which it is possible to secure these conditions; that way is through a flexible, vitalized body, through flexible bodily position and action. the rigid, muscular school cannot secure these conditions, for they make flexible freedom impossible. the limp, relaxed school cannot secure them, for there is no tone without tonicity and vitality of muscle. vitalized energy _can_ secure these true conditions, but through flexible bodily position and action only. the rigid school is muscle-bound, and lacks life and vitality. the limp school, of course, is depressed and lacks energy. the world is full of dead singers,--dead so far as vitality and emotional energy are concerned. singing is a form of emotional or self-expression, and requires life and vitality. life is action. life is vital force aroused. life in singing is emotional energy. life is a god-given, eternal condition, and is a fundamental principle of the true art of song. it is wonderfully strange that this idea or principle of flexible, vitalized bodily position and action is not better understood by the vocal profession. that a right use or training of the body, automatically influences form and adjustment, and secures right conditions of tone, has been and is being demonstrated day by day. this is a revelation to many who have tried to sing by the rigid or limp methods. there is really nothing new claimed for it, for it is as old as the hills. truth is eternal, and yet a great truth may be lost to the world for a time. the only things new which we claim, are the movements and the simple and effective devices used to study and apply them. these movements have a wonderful influence on the voice, for the simple reason that they are based upon nature's laws and common sense. these truths are destined to influence, sooner or later, the entire vocal world. a great truth cannot always be suppressed, and some day someone will present these truths in a way that will compel their recognition. they are never doubted now by those who understand them, and they are appreciated by such to a degree of enthusiasm. i am well aware that when these movements are spoken of in the presence of the followers of the prevailing rigid or limp schools, they exclaim, "why, we do the same thing. we use the body too." of course they use the body, but it is by no means the same. their use of the body is often abuse, and not only of the body, but of the voice as well. the influence on the singing voice of a rightly used or rightly trained body is almost beyond the ability of man to put in words. all singing should be rhythmical. these flexible bodily movements develop rhythm. all singing should be the result of vitalized energy and never of muscular effort. these movements arouse energy and make direct effort unnecessary. singing should be restful, should be the result of power in repose or under control. these movements, and these movements alone, make such conditions possible. all singing should be idealized, should be the result of self-expression, of an expression of the emotions. this is impossible except through correct bodily action. "by nature the expression of man is his voice, and the whole body through the agency of that invisible force, sound, expresses the nobility, dignity, and intellectual emotions, from the foot to the head, when properly produced and balanced. nothing short of the whole body can express this force perfectly in man or woman." these movements develop in a common-sense way the power of natural forces, of all the forces which nature has given to man for the production and use of the voice. rigid, set muscles, or relaxed, limp muscles dwarf and limit in every way the powers of the singer, physical, mental, and emotional; the physical action is wrong, the thought is wrong, and the expression is wrong. a trained, developed muscle responds to thought, to right thought, in a free, natural manner. a rigid or limp muscle is, in a certain sense, for the time being, actually out of use. an important point to consider in this connection is the fact that there is no strength properly applied without movement; but when right movements are not used, the voice is pushed and forced by local effort and by contraction of the lung cells and of the throat. this of course means physical restraint, and physical restraint prevents self-expression. singing is more psychological than physiological; hence the importance of free self-expression. direct physical effort produces physical effect; relaxation produces depression. all artistic tone is reinforced sound. there are two ways of reinforcing tone. first, by direct muscular effort, the wrong way; second, by expansion and inflation, the added resonance of air in the cavities, the right way. this condition of expansion and inflation is the distinguishing feature of many great voices, and is possible only through right bodily position and action. these movements are used by many great artists, who develop them as they themselves develop, through giving expression to thought, feeling, and emotion, through using the impressive, persuasive tone, the fervent voice. this brings into action the entire vocal mechanism, in fact all the powers of the singer; hence these movements become a part of the great artist. he may not be able to give a reason for them, but he knows their value. the persuasive, fervent voice demands spontaneity and automatic form and adjustment; these conditions are impossible without flexible, vitalized movements. the great artist finds by experience that the throat was made to sing and not to sing with; that he must sing from the body through the throat. he finds that the tone must be allowed and not made to sing. hence in the most natural way he develops vitalized bodily energy. next in importance to absolute freedom of voice, which these movements give, is the fact that through them absolute, automatic, perfect breath-control is developed and mastered. these movements give the breath without a thought of breathing, for they are all breathing movements. the singer cannot lift and expand without filling the lungs naturally and automatically, unless he purposely resists the breath. the conscious breath unseats the voice, that is, disturbs or prevents correct adjustment, and thus compels him to consciously hold it; but this very act makes it impossible to give the voice freedom. through these movements, through correct position, we secure automatic adjustment, which means approximation of the breath bands, the principle of the double valve in the throat, which secures automatic breath-control. in other words, the singer whose position and action are correct need never give his breathing a thought. this is considered by many as the greatest problem--for the singer--solved in the nineteenth century. to study and master these movements and apply them practically, the singer needs to know absolutely nothing of the mechanism of his vocal organs. he need not consider at all the physiological side of the question. of course the study of these movements must at first be more or less mechanical, until they respond automatically to thought or will. then they are controlled mentally, the thought before the action, as should be the case in all singing; and finally the whole mechanism, or all movements, respond naturally and freely to emotional or self-expression. these flexible, vitalized movements are not generally understood or used, because they have not been in the line of thought or study of the rigid muscular school or the limp relaxed school; and yet they are destined to influence sooner or later all systems of singing. they have been used more or less in all ages by great artists. it is strange that they are not better understood by the profession. * * * * * in this connection it might be well to speak of the importance of physical culture for the singer. a series of simple but effective exercises should be used, exercises that will develop and vitalize every muscle of the body. there are also nerve calisthenics, nervo-muscular movements, which strengthen and control the nervous system. these nerve calisthenics generate electrical vitality and give life and confidence. "the body by certain exercises and regime may be educated to draw a constantly increasing amount of vitality from growing nature." a singer to be successful must be healthy and strong. he should take plenty of out-door exercise. exercise, fresh air, and sunlight are the three great physicians of the world. but beside this, all singers need physical training and development, which tense and harden the muscles, and increase the lung capacity; that training which expands all the resonance cavities, especially the chest, and which directly develops and strengthens the vocal muscles themselves, particularly the extrinsic and intrinsic muscles of the throat. as we have learned, a trained muscle responds more spontaneously to thought or will than an uneducated one; flexible spontaneity the singer always needs. beyond a doubt, the singer who takes a simple but effective course of physical training in connection with vocal training will accomplish twice as much in a given time, in regard to tone, power and control, as he could possibly do with the vocal training alone. this is the day of physical training, of physical culture in all things; and the average vocal teacher will have to awake to the fact that his pupils need it as much as, or more than, they need the constant practice of tone. of course it is not possible to give a system of physical training in a small work like this. the student of the voice can get physical training and physical culture from many teachers and many books. it may not be training that will so directly and definitely develop and strengthen the vocal muscles and the organ of sound itself, or training that will so directly influence the voice as does our system, which is especially arranged for the singer; but any good system of physical development, any system that gives the student health and strength, is good for the singing voice. "activity is the source of growth, both physical and mental." "strength to be developed, must be used. strength to be retained, must be used." raison d'Être. since writing my last book, "position and action in singing," and after four or five years more of experience, i have been doubly impressed and more than convinced of the power and influence of certain things necessary to a right training and use of the voice. herbert spencer says, "experience is the sole origin of knowledge;" and my experience has convinced me, not only that certain things are necessary in the training of the voice, but that certain of the most important principles or conditions demanded by nature, are entirely wanting in most systems of singing. singers, as a rule, are artificial and unnatural. they do not use all the powers with which nature has endowed them. this has been most forcibly impressed upon my mind by the general lack of vitality, or vital energy, among singers; by a general lack of physical vitality, and, i venture to say, largely of mental vitality, and undoubtedly of emotional vitality, often, but mistakenly, called temperament. these things have been forced upon me by the general condition of depression which prevails. vitality, however, or vitalized energy, is in fact the true means or device whereby the singer is enabled to arouse his temperament, be it great or otherwise; to arouse it, to use it, and to make it felt easily and naturally. out of every hundred voices tried i am safe in saying that at least ninety are physically depressed, are physically below the standard of artistic singing. singing, it is true, is more mental than physical, and more emotional than mental; but a right physical condition is absolutely necessary, and the development of it depends upon the way the pupil is taught to think. singing is a form of self-expression, of an expression of the emotions. this is impossible when there is physical depression. the singer must put himself and keep himself upon a level with the tone and upon a level with his song, the atmosphere of his song; upon a level with the sentiment to be expressed, physically, mentally and emotionally. this cannot be done, or these conditions cannot prevail, when there is depression. there is, to my mind, but one way to account for this condition of depression among singers. that is, the way they think, or are taught to think, in regard to the use of their bodies in singing. the way in which they breathe and control the breath, the way in which they drive and control the tone. it is the result of rigid muscular effort or relaxation, and both depress not only the voice but the singer as well. the tonal result is indisputable evidence of this. knowledge comes through experience; and my experience in studying both sides of this question has convinced me that there is but one way to develop physical, mental and emotional vitality in the singer, and that is through some system of flexible, vitalized bodily movements. there must be flexible firmness, firmness without rigidity. the movements as given in my book, "position and action in singing," and as here given, develop these conditions. they give the singer physical vitality, freedom of voice, spontaneity, absolute automatic breath control, and make self-expression, emotional expression, and tone-color, not only possible but comparatively easy. singing is self-expression, an expression of thought and feeling. there must be a medium, however, for the expression of feeling aroused through thought; that medium is the body and the body alone. therefore it is easy to see the importance of so training the body that it will respond automatically to the thought and will of the singer. the opposite of depression, which local effort develops, is vitalized energy, the singer's sensation, that which i have called the third power, and which is a revelation to those who have studied both sides of the question. these things, as i have said, have been given to the vocal world in my book, "position and action in singing." many have understood them, have used them, and are enthusiastic advocates of the idea. others have not fully understood them, as was and is to be expected. for that reason i have written this little book in the hope that it might make things plainer to all. i have endeavored to embody these practical, natural, necessary movements in the formula of study given in this book. the formula which follows is systematically and logically arranged for the study and development of fundamental principles through or by the means of these flexible vitalized movements. in this way i hope to make these ideas plainer and more definite to pupil and teacher. every correct system of voice-training is based upon principle, theory, and the devices used to develop the principles. there are certain fundamental principles of voice, which are nature's laws laid down to man, and which cannot be violated. upon these principles we formulate theories. the theories may be right or wrong, as they are but the works of man. if they are right, the devices used are more apt to be right. if they are wrong, wrong effort is sure to follow, and the result is disastrous. after all, the most important question for consideration is that of the devices used to develop and train the voice. all depends upon whether the writer, the teacher, and the pupil study nature's laws through common-sense methods or resort to artificiality. if the devices used are right, if they develop vitality, emotional energy, if they avoid rigidity and depression, then the singer need not know so much about principle and theory. but with the teacher it is different. he must know what to think and how to think it before he can intelligently impart the ideas to his pupils. hence a system based upon correct principle, theory, and device is absolutely necessary for the teacher who hopes to succeed. the following system, as formulated, is largely the outgrowth of my summer work at point chautauqua, on lake chautauqua. there we have a school every summer, not only for the professional singer and teacher, but for those who desire to become such. beside the private lessons we give a practical normal course in class lessons. there the principles, the theory, and the devices used are studied and worked out in a practical way by lecture, by illustration, and by the study of all kinds of voices. many who have taught for years have there obtained for the first time an idea, the true idea, of flexible vitalized movements, the devices demanded by nature for giving the voice vitality, freedom, ease, etc. these teachers who are thus aroused become the most enthusiastic supporters of, and believers in, our system of flexible vitalized movements. it is, therefore, through the chautauqua work that i have been impressed with the importance of placing this system in a plainer and more definite way, if possible, before the vocal world. part second. _vitality._ article one. the first principle of artistic tone--production. the first principle of artistic tone-production is _the removal of all restraint_. the theory founded upon this principle is as follows: correct tone is the result of certain conditions demanded by nature, not man's ideas. these conditions are dependent upon form and adjustment; and form and adjustment, to be right, must be automatic, and not the result of direct or local effort. the devices used for developing the above conditions are simple vocal exercises which are favorable to correct form and adjustment, and are studied and made to influence the voice through correct position and action. a correct system for training and developing the voice must be based upon principle, theory, and device; upon the principles of voice which are nature's laws, upon the theories based upon these principles, and upon the devices for the study and development of such principles. my purpose in this little work is to give just enough musical figures or exercises to enable us to study and apply the movements, the practical part of our system. the first principle of artistic tone-production is the removal of all restraint. this no one can deny without stultifying himself. the removal of all restraint means absolute freedom, not only of form and action, but of tone. it is evident, then, that any local hardening or contracting of muscle, any tension or contraction which would prevent elasticity, would make the removal of all restraint impossible. hence we find that this first principle is an impossibility with the rigid local-effort school. on the other hand, relaxation, while it may remove restraint, makes artistic control and tonicity impossible. hence artistic tone, based upon this first principle, is an impossible condition with the limp or relaxed school. that tone is the result of certain conditions demanded by nature, and that these conditions are dependent upon form and adjustment, cannot be denied; but unless form and adjustment give freedom to the voice, unless they result in the removal of all restraint, then the manner or method in which they are secured must surely be wrong. local effort or contraction cannot do this. relaxation cannot secure the true conditions. there is and can be but one principle which makes true form and adjustment possible: all form and adjustment must be automatic, and not the result of direct or local effort. this brings us to a study of devices; and devices, to influence correctly not only the voice but the individual, must be in accordance with natural and not artificial conditions. the singer must put himself and keep himself upon a level with the tone--upon a level with the tone physically, mentally and emotionally. the device which we use, or the formula, is, _lift, expand, and let go_. with the singer who contracts the throat muscles during the act of singing, that which may be called the center of gravity or of effort is at the throat. with the singer who carries a consciously high chest and a drawn-in or contracted diaphragm, the center of gravity is at the chest. with the singer who takes a conscious full breath, and hardens and sets the diaphragm to hold it, the center of gravity is at the diaphragm. in none of these cases is it possible to remove all restraint; for they all result in contraction, especially of the throat muscles, and make flexible expansion--a condition necessary to absolute freedom--impossible. place the center of gravity, by thought and action, at the hips. everything above the hips must be free, flexible, elastic and vitalized when singing. we say, _lift, expand, and let go_, which must be in the following proportion: lift a little, expand more than you lift, and let go entirely. the lift is from the hips up, and must be done in a free, flexible manner, with a constant study to make the body lighter and lighter, and the movement more elastic and flexible. do not lift as though lifting a weight, but lift lightly as though in response to thought or suggestion. expand the entire body in a flexible, elastic manner. this will bring into action every muscle of the body, and apply strength and support to the voice; for, as we have found, there is no strength correctly applied except through right movement. when we lift and expand properly, we expand the body as a whole, and not the chest alone, nor the diaphragm, nor the sides. these all come into action and expand with proper movement; but there must be no conscious thought of, nor conscious local effort of, any particular part of the body. when we lift and expand properly the chest becomes active, the diaphragm goes into a singing position, and every muscle of the body is on the alert and ready to respond to the thought or desire of the singer. not only this; when we lift and expand properly, we influence directly the form and adjustment of all the vocal muscles, and especially the organ of sound itself. in this way the voice is actually and artistically tuned for the production of correct tone, as is the violin in the hands of the master before playing. _lift, expand, and let go_. this brings us to a consideration of the third part of this expression, _let go_. this is in some respects the most important of the three; for unless the singer knows how to let go properly, absolute freedom or the removal of all restraint is impossible, and the true conditions of tone are lacking. the _let go_ does not mean relaxation, for there must be flexible firmness without rigidity. with the beginner the tendency is to lift, expand, and harden or contract all the muscles. this, of course, means restraint. the correct idea of _let go_ may be studied and better understood by the following experiment or illustration. stand with the right arm hanging limp by the side. lift it to a horizontal position, the back of the hand upward. while lifting, grip and contract every muscle of the arm and hand out to the finger-tips. this is much like the contraction placed upon the muscles of the body and of the throat by the conscious-breathing, local-effort school. lift the arm again from the side, and in lifting have the thought or sensation of letting go all contraction of the muscles. make the arm light and flexible, and use just enough strength to lift it, and hold it in a horizontal position. this should be the condition of all the muscles of the body under the influence of correct, _lift, expand, and let go_. lift the arm the third time without contraction or with the sensation of letting go, hold it in a horizontal position, the back of the hand upward. now will to devitalize the entire hand from the wrist to the finger-tips. let the hand drop or droop, the arm remaining in a horizontal position. this condition of the hand is the _let go_, or the condition of devitalization, which should be upon the muscles of the face, the mouth, the tongue, the jaw, and the extrinsic muscles of the throat during the act of singing. thus, when we say, _lift, expand, and let go_, we mean lift from the hips, the center of gravity, in an easy, flexible manner; expand the body with a free movement without conscious thought of any part of it; have the sensation of letting go all contraction or rigidity, and absolutely release the muscles of the throat and face. the _let go_ is in reality more a negative than a positive condition, and virtually means, when you lift and expand, do not locally grip, harden, or set any muscle of the body, throat, or face. the _lift, expand, and let go_ must be in proportion to the pitch and power of the tone. this, if done properly, will result in automatic form and adjustment, the removal of all restraint, and open, free throat and voice. this is the only way in which it is possible to truly vitalize, to arouse the physical, mental and emotional powers of the singer. this is the only way in which it is possible to put yourself and keep yourself upon a level with the tone--upon a level, physically, mentally and emotionally. this is in truth and in fact the singer's true position and true condition; this is in truth and in fact self-assertion; and this, and this only, makes it possible to easily and naturally _arouse_ "the singer's sensation," the true sensation of artistic singing. we will take for our first study a simple arpeggio, using the syllables ya ha, thus: [illustration: first study. ya, ha....] we use ya on the first tone, because when sung freely it helps to place the tone well forward. ya is pronounced as the german _ja_. we use ha on all other tones of this study for the reason that it is the natural staccato of the voice. think it and sing it "in glossic" or phonetically, thus: ha, very little h but full, inflated, expanded a. a full explanation for the use of ya and ha may be found in "position and action in singing," page . all the studies given in this little work for the illustration and study of the movements of our system should be sung on all keys as high and as low as they can be used without effort and without strain. it has been said that "the production of the human voice is the effect of a muscular effort born of a mental cause." therefore it is important to know what to think and how to think it. we say, put yourself and keep yourself constantly upon a level with the tone, mentally, physically and emotionally. for the present we have to do with the mental and physical only. stand in an easy, natural manner, the hands and arms hanging loosely by the sides. you desire to sing the above exercise. turn the palms of the hands up in a free, flexible manner, and lift the hands up and out a little, not high, not above the waist line. when moving the hands up and out, move the body from the hips up and out in exactly the same manner and proportion. the hands and arms must not move faster than the body; the body must move rhythmically with the arms. this rhythmical movement of body and arms is highly important. in moving, the sensation is as though the body were lifted lightly and freely upon the palms of the hands. the hands say to the body, "follow us." in this way, _lift, expand, and let go_. do not raise the shoulders locally. the movement is from the hips up. the entire body expands easily and freely by letting go all contraction of muscle. do not first lift, and after lifting expand, and then finally try to let go, as is the habit of many; but lift, and when lifting expand, and when lifting and expanding let go as directed. three thoughts in one movement--three movements in one--lifting, expanding, and letting go simultaneously as one movement, which in fact it must finally become. this is the only way in which it is possible to secure all true conditions of tone. with this thought in mind, and having tried the movement without singing, sing the above exercise. start from repose, as described, and by using the hands and body in a free, flexible manner, move to what you might think should be the level of the first tone. just when you reach the level of the first tone let the voice sing. move up with the arpeggio to the highest note, using hands, body, and voice with free, flexible action; then move body and hands with the voice down to the lowest note of the arpeggio; when the last tone is sung go into a position of repose. the movement from repose to the level of the first tone is highly important, for the reason that it arouses the energies of the singer, and secures all true conditions through automatic form and adjustment. do not hesitate, do not hurry. all movement must be rhythmical and spontaneous, and never the result of effort. in singing the arpeggio the tones of the voice must be strictly staccato; but the movement of the hands and body must be very smooth, even, and continuous--no short, jerky movements. the movement of the body is very slight, and at no time, in studying these first exercises, should the hands be raised above the level of the hips or of the waist line. of course with beginners these movements may be more or less exaggerated. when singing songs, however, they do not show, at least not nearly as much as wrong breathing and wrong effort. they simply give the singer the appearance of proper dignity, position, and self-assertion. by all means use the hands in training the movements of the body. you can train the body by the use of the hands in one-fourth of the time that it is possible to do it without using them. be careful, however, not to raise the hands too high, as is the tendency; when lifted too high the energy is often put into the hands and arms instead of the body; in this way the body is not properly aroused and influenced, and of course true conditions are not secured. "practical rules must rest upon theory, and theory upon nature, and nature is ascertained by observation and experience." now, if you will practice this arpeggio with a free, flexible movement of hands and body, getting under the tone, as it were, and moving to a level of every tone, you will soon find by practice and experience that these movements are perfectly natural, that they arouse all the forces which nature gave us for the production of tone, that they vitalize the singer and give freedom to the voice. by moving properly to a level of the first tone you secure all true conditions of tone; and if you have placed yourself properly upon a level with the high tone, when that is reached you will have maintained those true conditions--you will have freedom, inflation and vitality instead of contraction and strain. by moving with the voice in this flexible manner we bring every part of the body into action, and apply strength as nature demands it, without effort or strain. remember, there is no strength properly applied in singing without movement. in this way the voice is an outward manifestation of an inward feeling or emotion. "the voice is your inner or higher self, expressed not _at_ or _by_ but _through_ the vocal organs, aided by the whole body as a sound-board." our next study will be a simple arpeggio sung with the _la_ sound, thus: [illustration: second study. la....] this movement, of course, must be sung with the same action of hands and body, starting from repose to the level of the first tone, and keeping constantly upon a level with the voice by ascending and descending. sing this exercise first semi staccato, afterwards legato. the special object of this exercise is to relax the jaw, the face, and the throat muscles. a stiff, set jaw always means throat contraction. in this exercise, if sung in every other respect according to directions, a stiff jaw would defeat the whole thing, and make impossible a correct production of every high tone. in singing the _la_ sound, the tip of the tongue touches the roof of the mouth, just back of the upper front teeth. think the tone forward at this point, and let the jaw rise and fall with the tongue. devitalize the jaw and the muscles of the face, move up in a free, flexible manner to the level of every tone, and you will be surprised at the freedom and ease with which the high tones come. the moving up in the proper way applies strength, and secures automatic form and adjustment; develops or strengthens the resisting or controlling muscles of the voice; in fact, gives the voice expansion, inflation, and tonicity. remember that one can act in singing; and by acting i mean the movements as here described, lifting, expanding, etc., without influencing the voice or the tone, without applying the movements to the voice; of course such action is simply an imitation of the real thing. herein, however, lies the importance of correct thinking. the thought must precede the action. the singer must have some idea of what he wants to sing and how he wants to sing it. a simple chance, a simple hit or miss idea, will not do. make your tone mean something. arouse the singer's sensation, and you can soon tell whether the movement is influencing the tone or not. of course these movements are all more easily applied on the middle and low tones than on the higher tones, but these are the great successful movements for the study and development of the high tones. as we have learned in our former publications, there are but three movements in singing,--ascending, descending, and level movements. we have so far studied ascending and descending movements or arpeggios. we will now study level movements on a single tone, thus: [illustration: third study. ah.] place yourself in a free, flexible manner upon a level with the tone by the use of the movements as before described; lift, expand, and let go without hurrying or without hesitation, and just when you reach that which you feel to be the level of the tone let the voice sing. all must be done in a moment, rhythmically and without local effort. sing spontaneously, sing with abandon, trust the movements. they will always serve you if you trust them. if you doubt them, they are doubtful; for your very doubt brings hesitation, and hesitation brings contraction. sing from center to circumference, with the thought of expansion and inflation, and not from outside to center. the first gives freedom and fullness of form, the latter results in local effort and contraction. the first sends the voice out full and free, the latter restrains it. expansion through flexible movement is the important point to consider. when the tone is thus sung, it should result in the removal of all restraint, especially from the face, jaw, and throat. in this way the tone will come freely to the front, and will flow or float as long as the level of the tone is maintained without effort. remember the most important point is the movement from repose to the level of the tone. if this is done according to directions, all restraint will be removed and all true conditions will prevail. never influence form. let form and adjustment be automatic, the result of right thought, position, and action. study to constantly make these movements of the body easier and more natural. take off all effort. do not work hard. it is not hard work. it is play. it is a delight when properly done. make no conscious, direct effort of any part of the body. never exaggerate the movement or action of one part of the body at the sacrifice of the true position of another. the tendency is to locally raise the chest so high that the abdomen is unnaturally drawn in. this, of course, is the result of local effort, and is not the intention of the movements. the center of gravity must be at the hips; and all movement above that must be free, flexible, and uniform.[ ] [footnote : in this connection, see supplementary note, page .] do not give a thought to any wrong thing you may be in the habit of doing in singing, but place your mind upon freeing the voice, upon the removal of all restraint through these flexible vitalized movements: think the ideal tone and sing. when the right begins to come through these movements the wrong must go. over and against every wrong there is a right. we remove the wrong by developing the right. sing in a free, flexible manner, the natural power of the voice. make no effort to suppress the tone or increase its power. after the movements are understood and all restraint is removed, then study the tone on all degrees of power, but remember when singing soft and loud, and especially loud, that the first principle of artistic singing is the removal of all restraint. article two. the second principle of artistic tone-production. the second principle of artistic tone-production is _automatic breathing and automatic breath-control._ _theory._--the singing breath should be as unconscious,--or, rather, as sub-conscious,--as involuntary, as the vital or living breath. it should be the result of flexible action, and never of local muscular effort. the muscular breath compels muscular control; hence throat contraction. the nervous breath, nervous control; hence relaxation and loss of breath. _devices._--_expand to breathe. do not breathe to expand._ expand by flexible, vitalized movements; control by position the level of the tone, and thus balance the two forces, "pressure and resistance." in this way is secured automatic adjustment and absolute automatic breath-control. more has probably been written and said upon this important question of breathing in singing than upon any other question in the broad field of the vocal art; and yet the fact remains that it is less understood than any of the really great principles of correct singing. this is due to the fact that most writers, teachers, and singers believe that they must do something--something out of the ordinary--to develop the breathing powers. the result is, that most systems of breathing are artificial; therefore unnatural. most systems of breathing attempt to do by direct effort that which nature alone can do correctly. most breathing in singing is the result of direct conscious effort. the conscious or artificial breath is a muscular breath, and compels muscular control. the conscious breath--the breath that is taken locally and deliberately (one might almost say maliciously) before singing--expands the body unnaturally, and thus creates a desire to at once expel it. in order to avoid this, the singer is compelled to harden and tighten every muscle of the body; and not only of the body, but of the throat as well. under these conditions the first principle of artistic tone-production--the removal of all restraint--is impossible. as the breath is taken, so must it be used. nature demands--aye, compels--this. if we take (as we are so often told to do) "a good breath, and get ready," it means entirely too much breath for comfort, to say nothing of artistic singing. it means a hard, set diaphragm, an undue tension of the abdominal muscles, and an unnatural position and condition of the chest. this of course compels the hardening and contraction of the throat muscles. this virtually means the unseating of the voice; for under these conditions free, natural singing is impossible. the conscious, full, muscular breath compels conscious, local muscular effort to hold it and control it. result: a stiff, set, condition of the face muscles, the jaw, the tongue and the larynx. this makes automatic vowel form, placing, and even freedom of expression, impossible. the conscious, artificial breath is a handicap in every way. it compels the singer to directly and locally control the parts. in this way it is not possible to easily and freely use all the forces which nature has given to man for the production of beautiful tone. now note the contrast. the artistic breath must be as unconscious or as involuntary as the vital or living breath. it must be the result of free, flexible action, and never of conscious effort. the artistic, automatic breath is the result of doing the thing which gives the breath and controls the breath without thought of breath. the automatic breath is got through the movements suggested when we say, _lift, expand, and let go_. when the singer lifts and expands in a free, flexible manner the body fills with breath. one would have to consciously resist this to prevent the filling of the lungs. the breath taken in this way means expansion, inflation, ease, freedom. there is no desire to expel the breath got in this way; it is controlled easily and naturally from position--the level of the tone. when the breath is thus got through right position and action, we secure automatic form and adjustment; and correct adjustment means approximation of the breath bands, inflation of the cavities--in fact, all true conditions of tone. nature has placed within the organ of sound the principle of a double valve,--one of the strongest forces known in mechanics,--for the control of the breath during the act of singing. this is what we mean by automatic breath-control--using the forces which nature has given us for that purpose, using them in the proper manner. if the reader is familiar with my last two works, "vocal reinforcement" and "position and action in singing," he will have learned through them that we have not direct, correct control of the form and adjustment of the parts which secure the true conditions of tone and automatic breath-control. these conditions, as we have learned, are secured through the flexible movements which are the ground-work of our system. therefore we say, _trust the movements_. if you have confidence in them, they will always serve you. if you doubt them, they are doubtful; for the least doubt on the part of the singer means more or less contraction and restraint; hence they fail to produce the true conditions. this automatic breathing, the result of the movements described, does not show effort or action half so much as the old-fashioned, conscious muscular breath. breathing in this way means the use of all the forces which nature has given us. breathing in this way is nature's demand, and the reward is nature's help. the devices we use to develop automatic breathing and automatic breath-control are the simplest possible exercises, studied and developed through the movements, as before described. in this way through right action we expand to breathe, or rather we breathe through flexible expansion, and we control by position, by the true level of the tone. in this way, as we have found, all true conditions are secured and maintained. we will take for our first study a single tone about the middle of the voice. exercise three in article one of this second part of the book will suggest the idea. sing a tone about the middle of the voice with the syllable _ah_. lift, expand, and let go, by the use of the hands and the body, as before suggested. the lifting and expanding in a free, flexible manner will give you all the breath that is needed; and the position, the level of the tone, will hold or control the breath if you have confidence. remember that automatic breathing depends upon first action, the movement from repose to the level of the tone. if the action is as described, sufficient breath will be the result. if the position, the level of the tone, is maintained without contraction, absolute automatic breath-control will be the result so sure as the sun shines. the tendency with beginners and with those who have formed wrong habits of breathing, is to take a voluntary breath before coming into action. this of course defeats the whole thing. again, the tendency of beginners or of those who have formed wrong habits, is to sing before finding the level of the tone through the movements, or to start the tone before the action. this of course compels local effort and contraction, and makes success impossible. the singer must have breath; and if he does not get it automatically through the flexible movements herein described, or some such movements, he is compelled to take it consciously and locally. the conscious local breath in singing is always an artificial breath, and compels local control. under these conditions ease and perfect freedom are impossible. as we have said, the important thing to consider in this study is the movement from repose to the level of the first tone. move in a free, flexible manner as before described, and give no thought to breath-taking. when you have found the level of the tone, all of which is done rhythmically and in a moment, let the voice sing,--sing spontaneously. make no effort to hold or control the breath. maintain correct position the level of the tone, in a free, flexible manner, and sing with perfect freedom, with abandon. as the movement or action gave you the breath, so will the position hold it. the more you let go all contraction of body and throat muscles, the more freedom you give the voice, the more will the breath be controlled,--controlled through automatic form and adjustment. this is a wonderful revelation to many who have tried it and mastered it. those who have constantly thought in the old way, and attempted to breathe and control in the old way, cannot of course understand it. the tendency of such is to condemn it,--to condemn it, we are sorry to say, without investigation. knowledge is gained through experience. the singer or pupil who tries this system of breathing and succeeds, needs no argument to convince him that it is true, natural and correct. the greatest drawback to the mastering of it on the part of many singers and teachers, is the artificial habits acquired by years of wrong thinking and wrong effort. with the beginner it is the simplest, the easiest, and the most quickly acquired of all systems of breathing; for automatic breathing is a fundamental, natural law of artistic singing. for further illustration of this principle of breathing we will use the following exercise: [illustration: fourth study. ah....] place yourself in a free, flexible manner on a level with the first tone. if this is done properly, you will have secured automatically a singing breath and all true conditions of tone. when singing this exercise move the hands and body with the tone or voice, ascending and descending. in ascending open freely and naturally by letting go. do not influence the form by attempting locally to open. do not influence the form by locally preventing freedom or expansion. let go all parts of the face, mouth and throat, and you will be surprised at the power of the tone, of the breath, and of the breath-control on the upper tone. you will be surprised to find that you will have secured or developed three or four times as much sustaining breath power as you imagined you had. in descending, care must be taken not to droop or depress, but to carry the voice by controlling the movements of the body, and only after the last tone is finished should the body go into a position of repose. sing this exercise in all degrees of power, soft, medium and loud, maintaining the same true conditions on all. the tendency of most singers is to relax and depress on soft tone, or to pinch and contract. soft tone should never be small in form, and it should always have the same vitality and energy as the louder tone. [illustration: fifth study. ah....] this exercise should be studied and practiced in every way suggested for the study of the preceding exercises. place yourself upon a level with the first tone, in the manner before described, and thus secure the automatic breath. do not forget to use the hands to suggest the movement to the body. the hands should be used until the body is thoroughly trained to flexible action. it is always a question of "the thought before the action." do not allow a conscious or local breath before the movement. place yourself upon a level with the first tone, and allow or let the voice start spontaneously and freely. make no effort to hold the breath. hold from position. sing down, moving with the voice, but do not let the body or the tone droop or relax. neither must there be stiffness or contraction. if you find it impossible to control the voice in this way, or to prevent depression of body and of tone, then try the following way. place yourself upon a level with the first tone in the proper manner, sing down, but lift and expand with an ascending movement of the hands and body. open the mouth freely and naturally, and let the tone roll out. you will be surprised to find not only great breath power and control, but a power in the tone that most singers imagine can be got through physical force alone. this power is the result of expansion and inflation, the true reinforcing power. the increased vitalized energy of the tone is the result of the upward and outward movement. this movement of expansion and inflation through flexible action, is the true application of strength or of power. it is that which we call the reverse movement. we sing down and move up. it is the great movement for developing the low tones of all voices. this reverse movement may be applied at will to all the studies given; it will depend upon the effect we may desire to produce. if in descending, a quiet effect is desired, the movement is with the voice. if we want power we reverse the action. the body, when properly trained, becomes the servant of the will, and responds instantly to thought and desire. hence the importance of correct thought. in presenting these ideas to my readers, i realize how difficult it is to put them in words, and how much they lose when they appear in cold print. in working with a living, vitalized voice, the effect is so different. the reader who may desire to experiment with these ideas should place himself before a mirror, and make his image his pupil, his subject. in this way he can better study the movements, the action, the position, the level of the tone, and the breathing. in private teaching, of course, we do not take up one subject or principle and finish that, and then take up the next one; but one idea is constantly built upon another to form the harmonious whole. the formula which we use here, as we have said, is the one adopted for the normal class at the point chautauqua summer school. this we do in order to have the system properly arranged for lecture, illustrations, and for a practical study of the devices, not only from the singer's, but from the teacher's standpoint as well. the teacher or singer who studies and masters this course never questions or doubts the truth and power of automatic breathing and automatic breath-control; or the wonderful influence on the voice of these movements, which we call true position and action in singing.[ ] [footnote : the few exercises or studies here given, as well as a number of others, may be found fully carried out with accompaniment, in "exercises for the training and development of the voice," by the author of this work. published by william a. pond and company.] article three. the third principle of artistic tone-production. the third principle of artistic tone-production is _high placing and low resonance._ _theory._--tone, to be artistic, must be placed forward and high, and must be reinforced by the low cavities and chest resonance; it must be placed high, and reinforced or built down by added resonance through expansion and inflation. _devices._--place high by removing all restraint, all obstruction, through flexible movements. the high, forward placing is the natural focus of the voice. when the voice is thus placed and automatic control prevails, reaction and reflection occur, and the sympathetic low resonance of the inflated cavities is added to the tone. also study the naturally high placing of e and the naturally low color of oo; then equalize all the vowels through their influence, and thus develop uniform color and quality in all. this third principle of artistic singing is a very important one, and means much more than one might, at first thought, suppose. many singers think of placing simply as the point of contact or impact of the air current. placing, however, means more than this. it means not only the correct focus of tone forward and high, but it also means reaction and reflection of the air current; in short, sympathetic added vibration of air in the low inflated cavities. this being true, we find that correct placing means even much more. it means the true form and adjustment of all the parts--all true conditions of tone. the prevailing idea of placing is the thought of constantly pushing up the tone. result, the organ of sound is pushed out of place and all true conditions disturbed. the pushed-up tone means local, muscular effort, contraction, and a hard, unmusical voice. the voice thus placed may be loud and brilliant, but never soulful or beautiful. the pushed-up tone means singing from the larynx up. it means head-resonance only; and head-resonance is but one side, and that the smallest side, of this great question. tone must be placed spontaneously, with reaction and reflection. this shows at once the importance of the first two great principles of voice-production,--freedom and automatic breath-control; for without these true placing is impossible. tone placed in this way means the ring of the forward high placing and the added resonance of the inflated cavities and especially of the chest. in singing, as we have learned, there are two forces constantly in action,--pressure and resistance, or motor power and control. these two forces must prevail, and in order to produce the voice artistically, they must be balanced. this is done, indirectly, through the movements we advocate, through the position and action of the body. the motor power lies in the diaphragm and in the abdominal and intercostal muscles. the controlling force lies in the chest, in a properly adjusted larynx and the approximated breath-bands. these two forces must be balanced during the act of singing. most singers are much stronger in the driving or motor power than in reaction or the controlling force; and with many, the weakness in control, reaction or adjustment, is an absolute bar to success. hence the importance of strengthening the chest, and the position of the organ of sound, through physical culture. when these two forces, motor power and control, are not equal, the balance of force is placed upon the throat and throat muscles. this the singer can no more avoid doing than he can avoid balancing himself to keep from falling. when, in order to place, the voice is pushed up, deliberately and maliciously pushed, both forces are exerted in the same direction. they are then virtually but one force--a driving force. as there must be two forces in singing, as nature compels this, there is nothing left for the singer to do but to use the throat and throat muscles as a controlling force. under these conditions, as before stated, the tone may be brilliant, but it will always be unsympathetic and unmusical. i hope no one will think for a moment, in considering the movements we advocate, that we do not believe in strength and power. we do believe in applied power, applied indirectly; not by local grip and contraction, but indirectly through vitalized energy, expansion, and flexibility, through the true position and action of the singer. there is no strength properly applied in singing except through movement; through correct movement all the forces which nature has given the singer are indirectly brought into action; in this way there is constant physical and vocal development. every tone sung, as we have learned, is a reinforced sound. there are two ways of reinforcing tone. first, by muscular tension, muscular contraction, muscular effort--the wrong way. second, by vitalized energy, by expansion, and by added resonance of air in the inflated cavities--the right way. of course to produce expansion and inflation, true conditions of form and adjustment must prevail, through the movements given. form has much to do with determining the quality and character of the tone. muscular effort, either in placing or reinforcing the tone, results in muscular contraction, and in most cases in elliptical form of voice, thus: [drawn horizontal oval] this means depressed soft palate, high larynx, contraction of the fauces, closed throat, and spread open mouth. result--high placing impossible, no low color or reinforcement; in short, hard muscular tone. the tone may be loud but it cannot be musical. the true musical form of the voice is elongation, thus: [drawn vertical oval] this means high placing and low resonance; it means that the tone has the ring of forward high placing and the reinforcement, color, and beauty of added low resonance. elongation is a distinguishing feature of all truly great voices. for artistic tone, the soft palate must be high, the larynx must be low, and the throat and mouth allowed to form, not made or compelled. the form must be flexible and elastic. the larynx must be low in adjustment for the production of beautiful tone, but it must never be locally adjusted. it must always be influenced indirectly through the movements we advocate, through the true position and action of singing. in this way are secured open throat, freedom of voice, all true conditions. in this way the tone may be placed by impulse, by flexible action, may be started high and instantly reflected into the inflated cavities. this means perfect poise of voice; it means the focus of the tone high and forward with the sympathetic added vibration of the low cavities and especially of the chest. this is the only true placing of voice,--the combination of head and chest resonance through automatic form and adjustment. a tight throat through local, muscular effort makes these conditions impossible. the true resonance-chamber then, as we have found, is from head to chest; sympathetically the resonance of the entire body must be added. the true artist sings with the body, through the throat, and never with the throat. in this way the entire singer is the instrument. fill the body with sound. the higher the tone the more elongated the form. nature demands this. if this does not occur contraction and depression are sure to follow. also the higher the tone the lower the added resonance, when the conditions are right. in this way the form elongates and the compass expands without effort or strain. these ideas studied through flexible movements are truly wonderful, but natural means for expanding the compass of the voice. much has been written lately on the subject of open tones. should the tones be opened or closed, is the question. tone should never be closed. it should always be open, but never out. if it is out of the mouth it is not a singing sound. even the real covered tones of the voice should never be closed. the truth is, the form of the covered tones of the voice, through elongation, is larger than the form of those which we call the open tones, in contradistinction to the covered. in the clear timbre of the voice, the bright tone, the ring of high placing, predominates. in somber timbre, the dark tone, low resonance, or low color, predominates. in medium tone both are heard or felt more equally. none of this coloring or reinforcing must be done by locally influencing form or placing. the voice must be perfectly free; and the result must be due to sentiment, feeling, emotion, to the effect it may be desired to produce. if all restraint is removed, if true conditions prevail, this can always be done through the singer's sensation, through the use of the third power. it is marvelous how, under right conditions, the voice will respond to thought, to sentiment, to feeling. "the tone thus produced and thus delivered, with perfect breath-control, will set the _whole body sympathizing_, from the sole of the foot to the crown of the head. and it is _only_ tones like these--that it is possible to so adorn, and decorate, and beautify, with the due amount of emphasis, and accurate intensity of emotional feelings, and exquisitely shaded and ever-varying tinges of color in expression--that can prove capable of captivating the heart of the hearer, that can graphically impress the listener with such sentiments as the vocalist desires to convey." we will take for our first study a single tone about the middle of the voice. in studying placing and resonance, we must of course observe all the rules laid down in regard to the action, position, etc. do not take a voluntary breath before acting--do not start the tone before the action, two things which require constant watching on the part of the beginner. either of them will virtually cause defeat. remove all obstruction by seeking the level of the tone through flexible action. think the tone forward and high. place by impulse, and never by local effort. have the sensation as though the tone started forward and high, as though it impinged against the roof of the mouth, and instantly reflected into the low cavities, and especially into the chest. in doing this, relax the jaw, let go all face and throat contraction, expand the body, and think and feel the chest vibrant and filled with tone. in this way the tone may be started high and reinforced or built down by the added resonance of all the inflated cavities. another way to do this, is to start the tone spontaneously by impulse through correct action; in doing so, think and feel as though the tone placed and reflected at the same instant, forward against the roof of the mouth and on the chest,--as though the contact or impingement of the tone were felt at both places simultaneously. of course the high forward placing in mouth and face is the true placing, and the sensation on the chest is the action or reflection of the true placing. this can be done through flexible vitalized action alone. with a tight throat or local muscular effort it is impossible. this is perfect attack, and in this way all force and push are avoided. in this way freedom and inflation are secured, that condition which unites head and chest resonance. think of a rubber pouch filled with air. imagine you grasp it in the middle with the hand, and close the hand tight. the upper part of this pouch represents the face and high forward placing. that below the hand, or the lower part, the chest resonance. the hand holding the middle of the pouch represents the throat. so long as the hand contracts tightly the middle of the pouch, there is no connection between the air in the upper and lower parts of the pouch. if the desire is to connect these two parts, relax the hand a little, and allow an opening or a free passage between them. in singing, the same relaxation or opening must occur at the throat, if the desire is to connect the ring of high placing with the resonance of the low cavities. if the desire is to reinforce, to build down, the extrinsic muscles of the throat must relax, and the throat must expand. in thus placing and reinforcing tone, the pupil is guided or assisted not only by the sense of hearing but by the sense of feeling. there will be the sensation of freedom, of ease, of power; a feeling as though the entire body from the head down to the waist were open and filled with tone. remember, however, this important fact, that it is possible to lift and expand, and even to let go, and yet not to influence the tone. we can act well and yet sing with a common tone. the pupil must think and feel the tone, must think and feel the effect desired. the thought must precede the action. this point is worthy of all consideration,--right thought or right feeling assists the tone in every way, has, in fact, a wonderful influence in developing right action. the idealized tone brings into action more of the true powers of the singer than it is possible to do in any other way. [illustration: sixth study. ya, ah.] this study lends itself easily and naturally, not only to the development of high placing, but to correct bodily action. sing the first tone staccato, placing the body upon a level with the tone as described. then from the level of this first tone, through flexible vitalized action, carry the body spontaneously or by impulse to the level of the upper tone; the air current or the tone should strike the roof of the mouth well forward and instantly reflect into the low cavities. in this way all true conditions are secured, and the voice is allowed to sing instead of being made or compelled. there must be a very free lift, expansion, and let go between the first and the upper tone. do not let the second tone start until its level is reached, or the effect will be spoiled, or at least modified. all this must be done rhythmically, which means without the least hesitation, or without the sensation of haste. to hesitate compels local effort. to hurry disturbs all true conditions. this is a very valuable exercise, if understood. [illustration: seventh study. ah....] this study is virtually the same as the sixth, except that the voice is not suspended or arrested between the first and second tones. this exercise must be studied with the same action and the same impulse as the sixth study. some singers can get placing and reaction better on this study than on the sixth. [illustration: eighth study. ah....] find the level of the first tone as suggested, using hands and body; move down, hands and body going with the tone, while singing the first three notes of this exercise; then, without stopping or hesitating, reverse the action or the movement, by lifting hands and body, and opening wide by dropping the lower jaw, while singing the last three notes. of course the voice must sing from the highest to the lowest note with a continuous legato flow. the movement of the body down with the first three notes and the reverse action, moving up and out on the last three, must be smooth and continuous. if this is done properly the reverse action will give a wonderful sensation of freedom, openness, and the power of low added resonance. it demonstrates forcibly what is meant by placing up and building down. this is the great idea or the great movement for developing the low tones in all voices. when the low tones are thus developed by expansion, but without effort, the same idea of freedom and low resonance can be carried into the high tones. this can be done especially well and easily on exercises six and seven. the higher the tone the lower the resonance should be if the object be a full beautiful, free tone. [illustration: ninth study. ah....] place yourself upon a level with the first tone as suggested, and allow the tone to start spontaneously, striking, as it were, the roof of the mouth and the chest simultaneously. move body and hands down with the voice to the low tone, and then instantly but rhythmically, lift back to the level of the upper tone. feel as though you were under the tone with body and hands in moving up, and let the tone strike by impulse, the roof of the mouth, and instantly reflect into the chest. practice this exercise until it can be done with perfect freedom of form and action. in starting the first tone in all these exercises, feel the vibration in the face, on the forehead, and on the cheek-bones. if this is done without pushing, but by flexible action, a sympathetic vibration can be felt through the entire body. a very effective and successful study of high placing and low resonance may be got through a consideration of the natural placing and resonance of the vowel sounds. as i have written so fully on the vowel sounds in my former works, i shall simply touch upon that important question here. e as in _reed_ is naturally the highest placed vowel in the english language. u or oo as in _you_ or _do_ is naturally the lowest in color. sing e with the freedom of action as suggested, and think it high in the face. make no effort to influence the form. the form of e is naturally very small. e will be found in this way to be free and bright, not hard and wiry. sing oo in the same way. the form of oo is also very small. oo should have a flute-like sound. it will be found that in e high resonance predominates. in oo low color. in studying the vowels the aim should be to equalize them by placing, reinforcing, and coloring them as nearly alike as possible. in this way they are equalized instead of differentiated. place e as suggested, and color it by the thought and influence of the low resonance of oo. sing oo as suggested, and brighten it by the thought, influence, and high placing of e. in this way study all other vowels, influencing them by the high placing of e and the low resonance of oo. the high ring and brightness of the reed sounds of the voice, must be modified and influenced by the color and low resonance of the flute sounds. the flute sounds of the voice must be made more brilliant and free by the influence of the high placing and high resonance of the reed sounds. in this way we equalize all the vowels until, in a certain sense, they all have the same color and quality and sound, as though they belonged to one and the same voice. for a further study of high placing, use the second sound of o, or, as some writers classify the vowels, the second sound of u,--the sound of uh as heard in up. this is the highest, narrowest, and most elongated arch form in the english language; consequently it is, for many voices, the most favorable sound for the study of high placing. all vowel sounds, like all tones of the voice, are reinforced sounds. the tendency of most singers is to sing the reed sounds too white and the flute sounds too dark. by properly distributing brilliancy and color we influence and modify all the vowels without losing their character or individuality. part third. _aesthetics._ article one. the fourth principle of artistic singing. the fourth principle of artistic singing is _emotional or self-expression._ _theory_.--vitalized emotional energy, the "singer's sensation," is the true motor power of the voice. _devices_.--a study of tone-color and tone-character; the idealized tone, applied and developed by the use of words and sentiment. the student of the voice who has studied, understood, and, to a certain extent, mastered the first three great principles of voice production--the removal of all restraint, automatic breathing, high placing, and low resonance--has certainly accomplished much. he has aroused and developed the physical and mental vitality of the singer, the vitality and energy of body and mind. this is the limit of progress or development with many, at least so far as actual tone study is concerned. there comes a time, however, in the experience of every student of the voice, a stage of the study, when, if he expects to be an artist, he must take a step in advance, a step higher; he must place himself upon a higher plane or level; he must arouse his true inner nature, the singer's sensation, that which we have called the third power. this is done by a study of emotional, or self-expression. it is done through arousing and vitalizing the emotional energy. vitalized emotional energy, the singer's sensation, is undoubtedly the true motor power of the artist. at just what stage of development the consideration of this higher form of study or expression should be placed before the mind of the pupil, is a question. singers are so different, physically, mentally, and emotionally. with some i have found it best not to consider this side of the question until they have developed a fair vocal technique. this should be the case with emotional, nervous, excitable temperaments. with hard, cold, stiff, mechanical pupils, this is often the only way in which it is possible to arouse them, in order to give them a start, without wasting weeks or months of precious time. the development of this principle of vitalized, emotional energy, depends, as a rule, upon freedom of voice and the true conditions of tone as before described. therefore, in order to study this great question, in order to fully develop this higher form of expression, the singer must have mastered the flexible, vitalized movements given in this work, must have acquired through these movements absolute freedom of tone. experience teaches us, however, that there are those who, while they learn, in a certain way, to do the movements comparatively well, yet do not entirely let go,--they do not free the voice. with such the study of tone color, and especially the study of soft color, not soft tone necessarily, but soft, emotional tone color, is their only salvation. it releases and relaxes all the rigid local tendencies. there is a stage of study, as we have said, in the experience of all students of the voice, when, in order to become artists, nature demands of them more than mere sound. there comes a time when every tone of the voice must mean something, must express something, through the character of the tone, the idealized tone. in this way the personal magnetism of the singer is imparted, heard, and felt. this means the expression of thought and feeling through the color and character of the tone, the highest known form of expression. this principle is the greatest known agency for the development of all the powers of the singer, not only the emotional and mental powers, but the physical as well. the student of the voice who studies or who is trained in this way, develops, not only in character and beauty of tone, but in actual physical power and control. this study of tone color and tone character develops new power in every way. "the mechanical and mental alone are but half development, but this is full and complete development of the entire being." in proof of this, sing a light, bright, happy thought or tone, using the clear timbre, about the middle of the voice. it will require but little strength. then sing a more emotional thought, sentence, or tone; express deeper feeling, and it will be found that more strength is required. again, give utterance to tone or words which express sadness, sorrow, or intense pleading, using the somber timbre of the voice, and much more strength will be required. this will be especially noticeable in the action or energy of the diaphragm and abdominal muscles. it will be found that the low muscles of the body exert more strength on somber timbre than on clear tone. this, in order to induce the deep, low setting of the voice at the organ of sound, necessary for the production of somber or dark tone, and the expression of deep, emotional feeling. it is easy to see that this means greater physical as well as emotional development; physical development, not only of every muscle of the body, but of the organ of sound itself; a development which can be attained through the study of tone color and emotional expression only. the power of vitalized emotional energy, i might say the power of the emotional power, cannot be overestimated. the power of an emotional climax, imparted through the soft color of the voice, is often greater than that of the dramatic climax; it will often influence and affect an audience in the most startling way. we find that thought and will control all physical action in singing. if the thought is right, the action will be right; if wrong, the action will surely be wrong. when right thought and action have developed absolute freedom, then the emotional energy, the singer's sensation, the true power of the voice, should dominate everything. the mind or will controls the body through thought, but the thought must be aroused through feeling or emotion; and the feeling or emotion is inspired by the sentiment to be expressed. this means, of course, the higher form of expression, means the power of tone color and tone character; but it depends first upon all true conditions of tone, mental and physical, and then upon the temperament, upon the heart, and soul of the singer. singing, as we have said, is more psychological than physiological. this whole system of flexible, vitalized movements, is first aroused by right thought, and finally applied and controlled through the mind or will, in response to feeling or emotional impulse. in this way we are able to arouse and use at will the persuasive, the impressive, the fervent voice; the voice that is something more than mere sound; the voice that has character and magnetism. compare two voices that are equal in every way in regard to power of tone, compass, and control. the one varies the color and character of the tone continually with the change of thought and sentiment, and is enabled thereby not only to avoid monotony, but to use the impressive, persuasive voice, the tone the sentiment demands. in this way he has magnetic power and influence over an audience. the other voice may be bright, free, and clear, yet may use the same quality or color of tone constantly on all styles of singing, and on all degrees of power, it matters not what the thought or sentiment may be; and this style of voice is by no means uncommon, even among many of our public singers. now consider the difference in the commercial value of these two voices, which should bear at least some relation to their artistic value. no artist can be truly great or fully developed without the power of vitalized, emotional energy, and variety of tone color and character. sing a tone, about the middle of the voice, without other thought than that of simply pure, free tone. it will be found that in the most beautiful voice the tone will be common-place, meaningless; in many voices it will be simply sound. now place yourself in every way upon a higher, a more lofty plane. think of higher ideas and ideals. in other words, idealize the tone. remember, the ideal is the truth, and not exaggeration. appeal to your emotional energy, the singer's sensation, and give expression to thought and feeling aroused in this way. give expression to an actual life-throb, whether it be of love or hate, of joy or sadness, of ecstasy or despair. the result, the change of tone, character, and quality, will be astonishing, will ofttimes be electrifying. in this way make the tone actually mean something. feel like a singer, assert yourself, express thought, sentiment, feeling, emotion, and not simply sound. simple sound, as a rule, is meaningless and unnatural. nature demands, for the expression of beautiful, artistic tone, that all the powers she has given the singer--the powers, physical, mental, and emotional--be brought into action and put into the tone. character and magnetism of tone must be aroused in most voices. this cannot be done through the mechanical and mental powers alone. it requires the study and development of the emotional energies of the singer. in other words, the singer must put himself, not only upon a physical and mental level, but upon the emotional level of the tone as well. all voices have two distinct color or character effects, the reed and the flute. these effects are the result of vowel forms, and of the predominating influence of high placing or of low resonance. when we desire brilliancy, the reed effect should predominate. when we desire dark color or more somber effects, the flute quality should prevail. in clear tone or timbre there is more reed effect than flute. in medium tone or color the effect of both is heard and felt. in the somber tone the flute predominates. to express joy or happiness we use the clear timbre, and the ring of high forward placing predominates. to express a deeper feeling, a more serious but not a sad tone, that which we call the emotional form, both the clear and the somber are heard in various proportions; the high placing and the low resonance are about equally balanced. to express sadness the somber color or low resonance predominates. apply these ideas on all the exercises given. use sentences which contain thought or sentiment that will enable you to arouse a definite feeling. for example, to study the clear timbre, sing, "my _heart_ is glad." to express the emotional tone, the tone which is not sad but serious, sing, "my _heart_ is thine." to express a somber sound or sadness, sing, "my _heart_ is sad." to express a ringing, dramatic tone, sing, "thy _heart_ is false." thus we express four different effects on the one word, "heart." this subject of emotional expression through tone color and tone character is so great, so important, that it is impossible to do it justice in this little work. i have written more fully on this and kindred subjects in my other works, therefore i shall here touch but lightly upon the aesthetics of the vocal art. it should be remembered that the prime object for which this book was written, was to place more clearly, if possible, before my readers, the importance and wonderful influence of the flexible, vitalized movements of our system. these movements, we find, so directly influence the voice, the singer, and the results in every way, that we feel justified in again calling attention to them. too much cannot be said of them, for the average student of the voice is inclined to neglect them. if they have been, to a certain extent, understood and mastered, then the study of this, the fourth principle of artistic singing, becomes a comparatively easy matter. with the student who does not understand them, emotional or self-expression is always a difficult matter, and with many an impossibility; which largely accounts for the great number of mechanical singers. at least twenty years' hard work and study have been put upon these movements in order to reduce them to the simplest and most effective form. they are based upon common sense and nature's laws. of course no one can or should expect to understand or fully appreciate them without more or less investigation. article two. the fifth principle of artistic singing. the fifth principle of artistic singing is _automatic articulation_. _theory_.--_articulation must be spontaneous_, the result of thought, and of the effect desired, never of direct or local effort. the thought before the action, never the action before the thought. _devices_.--the development of the consonantal sounds through the study of the three points or places of articulation, and the application by the use of words, sentences, and sentiment, vitalized and intensified. in our course of study or in the formula here given, it will be evident to the reader that we lay much stress upon the principle of vitality or vitalized energy. in the second part of this work we have considered the principles and the devices that develop physical and mental vitality. in the article which directly precedes this, special emphasis is placed upon emotional vitality. vitality or vitalized energy, it will be found, holds good also in this, the fifth fundamental principle of artistic voice production. articulation, to be artistic, must be automatic and spontaneous; must be the result of thought and effect desired, and never of direct or local effort. this being true, we must recognize the importance of freedom of form and action, of the removal of all restraint, in fact, the importance of all true conditions of tone. this brings us back again to our original position, as do all the fundamental principles of singing; namely,--the importance of the free, flexible movements of our system, upon which freedom of form and action, in fact, all true conditions of tone, depend. language, spoken language, has been considered by many a vocal weakness. scientists have contended that the consonantal sounds weaken the resonance and power of the vowels. we have found the opposite to be true. we have found that the consonantal sounds in many ways are a wonderful help in developing the voice. this proves that which some one has so well said, "the demonstrations of yesterday are the falsehoods of to-day." a free, flexible articulation of the consonantal sounds helps to place the voice, and gives it life and freedom. articulation, under right conditions, will not interfere with the legato flow of voice. it is not necessary, as many suppose, to sacrifice distinct utterance in song for the sake of the legato flow of voice, the most desired mode of singing. on the other hand, the free legato flow of the vowels need not interfere at all with distinct articulation. the voice is composed of two separate and distinct instruments, the organ which produces sounds or vowels, and the articulating organ which produces consonants. these two instruments, when properly trained, strengthen, complement, and support each other, and together they mold vowels and consonants into speech. it is true that with many, articulation is a difficult matter, and this is especially true on the high tones of the voice. no one who has heard the majority of the average opera and concert singers of the day, would be justified in holding that articulation is not a lost art. a free, distinct articulation and use of words in song, is the exception and not the rule. this is due largely to the following fact--with most singers there is direct or local effort on face, jaw, tongue and throat, during the act of singing; in other words, they grip the parts to hold the tone, and the higher or louder they sing, the firmer the grip or contraction. this virtually paralyzes action, and makes flexible articulation impossible. articulation knows no pitch. it should be as easy on a high tone as on a middle or low tone. if there were no direct or local effort of the articulating muscles to hold the tone, articulation on the high tone would be as easy as on the middle or low tone. this is a fact which has been demonstrated again and again. of course it is more difficult to learn to sustain the high tone without placing more or less effort upon the face, jaw, and throat; but under right conditions, the result of right position and action, this can be done, and has been done many times. articulation, to be artistic, must be spontaneous,--the thought before the action. think and feel the effect desired, and give no thought to the action of articulation. the action, under right conditions, if there is no restraint, will respond to thought and feeling; it will be automatic and spontaneous. just as the singer, after a certain stage of study, should never produce a tone that does not mean something, that has not character, so in the use of words, he should always sing them in a persuasive, impressive manner, and with free, flexible action. as, under this system, we never locally influence vowel form, so, after a certain stage of study we never locally influence consonantal action. to be right, it must be automatic and spontaneous. of course we recognize the fact that in all vocal study there must be a beginning. the pupil must be taught to know and think correct physical or mechanical action in singing. he must know what it is, what it means, and how to think it. then it must be trained to respond to thought and will. this we call the first two stages of study, or the physical and mental. the mental, as the student progresses, must dominate and control the physical; and finally, as we have before stated, the true motor power is emotional energy or the singer's sensation. this order of study and development holds good in this fifth principle of artistic singing, as in all others. the device to which we first resort for the understanding and development of articulation, is a study of the three points or places of contact. on page of "vocal reinforcement" (by the author of this work) will be found a full explanation of these three points. a vowel sound is the result of an uninterrupted flow of the vibratory air current. a consonantal sound, on the other hand, is the result of a complete obstruction and explosion, of a partial obstruction and explosion, or of a partial obstruction only. the place and manner of the obstruction and explosion, or of the obstruction only, determine the character of the sound. there are three points of obstruction or articulation: . the point of contact of the base or back of the tongue and of the soft palate. . the contact of the tip of the tongue and of the hard palate, the roof of the mouth. . the contact of the lips, or of the lower lip and the teeth. almost any first-class work on the elements of the english language will give the divisions and the location of the consonantal sounds. for the singing voice it is always best to simplify, hence we divide the consonantal sounds into two general divisions: the aspirates, those which are the result of complete obstruction and explosion, or of partial obstruction only, breath and vowel sound; the sub-vocals, those which are the result of partial obstruction and explosion, or of partial obstruction only, sub-vocal and vowel sound. the sub-vocals, as ending or final consonants, are the most difficult of all to give their proper value and effect. the student of the voice should study, understand, and practically train the action of these three points or places of articulation; for at these three points, with a few exceptions, all consonantal sounds are made. take all the consonants, and classify them in two columns, the aspirates or breath sounds in one column, and the sub-vocals in another. we will give one example of each kind, as made at each point or place of articulation. by the aid of vowels we form syllables, and thus simplify the study, and make it more definite. the study of consonantal sounds without the use of vowel sounds is very indefinite and unsatisfactory. we give the formula for the study of articulation, as found in "exercises for the training and development of the voice" (by the author of this work), on page . ko-ok--aspirate. thus: st point. go-og--sub-vocal. to-ot--aspirate. d point. do-od--sub-vocal. po-op--aspirate. d point. bo-ob--sub-vocal exaggerate the consonantal sounds in every instance, and the points of contact or places of articulation will be very evident. it will also be evident that the point of contact or articulation is much more positive on certain aspirates than on the sub-vocals; while on a few other aspirates the action or obstruction is so slight that it is almost impossible to tell where or how they are made. they are the exception to the general rule. to such, however, very little attention or study need be given. having studied the formula as given, classify the consonants in three columns, under the headings of st, d, and d points or places of articulation. at a certain stage of study, when the student of the voice has acquired freedom and control, when he is able to release the face, jaw, tongue, and throat from all local effort or contraction,--at this stage of study it is wonderful what can be done in the way of articulation in a few days, by this system. i have known many singers who could produce beautiful tones, but who could not make themselves understood at all in the singing of a song; yet in a few lessons on these three points or places of articulation, practically applied by the use of words and sentences, they could sing the words of a song as distinctly as it was possible to speak them. for the practical application of the above principles of articulation, form groups of vowel sounds, and make syllables by adding consonants, and sing them on single or level tones. first place the consonant before the vowel, making the articulation the initial sound of the syllable. then place the consonant after the vowel, making the articulation the final sound of the syllable. also sing sentences on single tones or level movements. analyze all the consonantal elements of the sentence. take for example the following sentence, "we praise thee, o god," and notice at which point or place of articulation each and every consonant is made. let all articulation be free, flexible, and light in movement, not heavy or labored. never work with articulation; play with it, but let it be distinct and definite. make no effort of face, lips, or tongue; let all be free and pliable. show no effort or contraction of the face in sustaining voice or pronouncing words. in other words, never sing on the outside of the face. mouth and face must be left free and pliable for the outline of form and for expression. use words and sentences in an impulsive, impressive manner without local effort. articulation must be rhythmically in sympathy with the movement or the rhythm of the song. even though the voice may flow freely on the vowels, the articulation must not be hurried, nervous or spasmodic. this style of articulation often disturbs the legato flow and spoils the general effect. while of course it is not possible to sing the consonantal sounds, a beautiful effect is often the result of playing upon the consonant rhythmically, with the movement of the song. article three. the sixth principle of artistic singing. the sixth principle of artistic singing is _the elocution of singing._ _theory._--the words and their meaning, in modern song, are, as a rule, more important than the music. _devices._--a study to combine elastic vowel form and flexible articulation, applied by the emphasis and accent of important words and phrases; also applied through the color and character of tone, and the impressive, persuasive, fervent voice. in short, a study of pure diction. every singer and teacher of singing should, in a certain sense, be an elocutionist as well. not an elocutionist from the standpoint of many who are called elocutionists, who are stagey, full of mannerisms, and who exaggerate everything pertaining to elocution. of course the better class of elocutionists are not guilty of these things; but they do idealize everything, whether they read, recite, or declaim, and this in their profession is a mark of true art. so must the teacher and singer learn to idealize not only the tone or the voice, but everything pertaining to the singing of a song. this must be done through the manner in which the sentiment, the thought, the central idea is brought out and presented to the hearer; through the impressive way in which the story is told. the elocution of singing depends upon a knowledge and control of all the principles considered up to this point of study,--a knowledge and control of physical, mental, and emotional power, of freedom of form and action, of artistic vowel form and automatic articulation, of the removal of all restraint, in fact, of all true conditions of tone. to interpret well, the singer must have mastered the elocution of singing, must be able to bring out every vowel and consonantal element of the words, must know how to use and apply tone color and tone character, the impressive, persuasive, fervent voice. the singer must idealize not only the tone, but the words of the song; "just as the painter idealizes the landscape, so the musical artist must use his powers of idealization in interpreting the work of the composer." to be able to do this, his diction must be as pure, his language as polished, as that of the most accomplished orator. the power of word vitality in the singing of a modern song, is one of the great elements of success, if not the greatest. not an exaggerated form of pronunciation, but an intense, earnest, impressive way of bringing out the thought. it would be interesting to know what per cent of teachers and singers can read properly the words of a song; to know how many of them, or rather how few of them, have ever given this phase of the study, thought or attention. most of them act as though they were really ashamed to try, when you ask them to read the words of a song, and when they read them, they apparently have no thought of expressing, or no idea of how to express the elevated thought or feeling, necessary to bring out the author's ideas. it is almost impossible to make them idealize the words through the elocution of singing; and yet in the artistic rendition of a song, a ballad, or a dramatic aria, the words are often of more importance than the music. the singer should study the story of a song by reading it aloud upon the highest plane or level of emotional or dramatic expression. to do this, he must know and apply the elocution of singing. then he should endeavor to bring out the same lofty ideals when applying the words to the music. "why do not singers read or talk as they sing?" was a question once asked by a prominent elocutionist. "why do not elocutionists sing as they talk or read?" i replied. this, of course, at once suggests an interesting subject for discussion. to give the reason in a general way, is simply to state that singers, as a rule, do not apply the principles of their art to the talking voice. hence they often read and talk badly. the same is true, as a rule, of elocutionists. they do not apply the principles of their art when they attempt to sing. the devices we use are a study of elastic vowel form and flexible articulation, applied by the emphasis and accent of important words in phrases and sentences. then a study of the character and tone color necessary to express the meaning of the words. then a use of the earnest, impressive, persuasive voice, as the text may demand. by using these forces or principles, as suggested by the thought and sentiment of the words, we arouse the emotional power, the magnetism of the voice, and thus influence the hearer. through the elocution of singing we place our emotional, our personal expression upon a high and lofty plane. we thus express the central thought, the high ideals of the composer, and through the earnest, impressive voice impart them to the hearer. article four. the seventh principle of artistic singing. the seventh principle of artistic singing is _interpretation_. _theory_.--singing means infinitely more than the use of words and music; it means the expression of the author's idea as a whole. _devices_.--the application of all true principles by drawing, as it were, a mental and emotional tone-picture, as suggested by words and music. the following article upon this subject was kindly written, especially for this book, by my friend and pupil, the well known teacher, mr. john randolph. interpretation in song is the faithful reproduction of the intention of both poet and composer. this reproduction includes the revelation of the characteristics of the poem itself, whether lyric, dramatic, or in other ways distinctive. it also reveals the musical significance of the composition to which the words are set. the melodic, rhythmic, and even harmonic values must be made clear to the hearer. but interpretation includes more than this reproduction, essential though it may be. if the expression of the intention of poet and composer fulfilled the sum total of interpretation, one performance would differ little from another. a clear-cut, automatic precision would be the result, perhaps as perfect as the repetition given out by a music-box and certainly no more interesting. another element enters into interpretation. the meaning of the poem and its accompanying music must be displayed through the medium of a temperament capable of self-expression. a personal subjective quality must enter into the performance. the singer must reveal not only the significance of words and music, but his own intellectual and emotional comment upon them. upon this acceptance of the inner meaning of words and music, and upon his ability to weave around them some strands of his individuality, depend the character and originality of the singer's interpretation as a whole. let us see how this comprehension of the meaning of songs may be acquired; upon what foundations rests the ability to make the meaning clear; and if we can do so, let us discover the springs of that elusive quality commonly called "temperament" which gives the personal note to one rendition as distinct from another, and without which the clearest exposition of vocal meanings becomes tame and colorless. the singer is a specialist, but all successful specialization rests upon the broad foundations of general culture. the reason why there are so many singers and so few artists who thrill us with the revelation of the intimate beauties of the songs of franz, grieg, and macdowell, to take only a few names from the rich list of song writers, is because people sing without acquiring the range of vision which makes such interpretation possible. how can one sing, let us say, a german song, imbued with german romanticism and melancholy, unless he knows something of the german art, the german spirit, the german language, the german national characteristics? a knowledge of literature, art in general, and the "humanities," to use an old-fashioned word, is absolutely necessary to interpretation of a high order. too often, alas, the singer imagines that the study of tone production, or acquaintance with musical literature, or a polished diction, will make him sing with the combination of qualities called style. not so! upon the broad foundations of general culture, which distinguishes the man of refinement from his less fortunate brother, rests also the specific ability to sing with distinction. moreover, the singer must have definite musical ability, natural and developed by study. he must thoroughly comprehend rhythm, melody, and harmony in order that his attention may not be distracted from interpretative values to ignoble necessities of time and tune. it is not possible to sing mozart, not to say beethoven and wagner, without acquaintance with the vocabulary and grammar of the wonderful language in which they wrote. familiarity with the traditions of different schools of composition and performance is necessary also in order not to sing the songs of bach and handel like those of schubert and schumann, or brahms like the modern french composers; in order not to interpret with like effects indiscriminately songs of the oratorio and opera, of italian, german, french, english and modern russian schools. unquestionably the singer must have control of the physiological and technical possibilities of his voice. no one can make words and music mean anything while he is wondering what his voice may do next. developed intelligence, emotional richness and refinement, musical knowledge, a properly placed voice capable of flexibility and color, distinct articulation, polished diction, these are some of the preliminaries to successful interpretation in song. let us see what special qualifications assist in the actual performance of song, in the attempt to give pleasure or artistic gratification by singing songs for others to hear. in the first place let us consider the limitations as well as the advantages of the human voice. i must ask you to remember that considered as an instrument it is smaller in power than some instruments, shorter in range than many others, often less beautiful than the tones of the violin. but in one respect it transcends all others. it is capable of revealing the mind and soul of the one who plays upon it. the speaking voice, as well as the voice in song, reveals thought and feeling to the hearer; those subtler shades of meaning which distinguish man, made in the image of god, from his humble companions, are made clear to those about him by this instrument--this wonderful, persuasive, cajoling, beseeching, enthralling, exciting, thrilling, terrifying instrument! have you not been moved by the tones of the speaking voice? how can we train the voice in song to express these varying shades of meaning, and can we learn to use them systematically instead of accidentally or when we are impelled by strong emotion? i know that there is a popular impression that some singers possess a mysterious quality known as "temperament," and that others do not. having this uncertain quality, one singer stirs an audience; having it not, the hearer remains unmoved. if by temperament, intelligence and emotional richness of nature are meant, i do not believe that anyone who is not to some extent possessed of these faculties can stir the feelings of his hearers to any considerable degree. but surely many, almost all people capable of conquering the physiological, psychological, technical, and musical difficulties to be overcome before learning to sing at all well, possess these qualities. and even if modern songs of the best type abound in subtle, emotional expression and varying shades of intellectual significance, it is, i believe, possible for most singers to gain in interpretative facility by learning to connect the thought and feeling underlying the song with the spoken words which are their natural outlet and expression. i say spoken words; for speech is the more spontaneous expression of thought and feeling, through which individuality attains its simplest and most complete expression. speech is the normal method through which we make clear our ordinary thoughts, feelings, desires, repulsions, and attractions to those about us. song is the finer flower of artistic expression, one of the means through which imagination and the creative and interpretative faculties find an adequate medium and outlet. but the words of the poem, whether spoken or sung, must first be thoroughly understood before the reader or singer attempts to make anyone else comprehend or feel them. too often an apparent lack of "temperament" is only the failure to have a definite understanding of the meaning of the words the singer is vainly endeavoring to impress upon his audience. let the singer recite or read aloud the words of his songs. this is a natural form of expression, and requires a less complex process of thought than singing, which demands several automatic reflexes in securing tone production; let him read aloud, trying to give out every shade of thought and feeling the poem contains, in a tone which is persuasive and appealing. later, when he can do this with appropriate emphasis in speech, let him try to express the same meanings in his singing voice. in all probability he will find that he is much assisted by the music, if his tone production is reasonably correct and authoritative, and he be enough of a musician to grasp readily tonal values. the sense of the words, the emotion and thought underlying the words, will suggest the color and character of voice appropriate to the expression and interpretation of the song as a whole. of course, if he tries to impress upon his hearer that he thinks it rather weak and foolish to give up completely to the full significance of the words, and to impersonate their narrative or dramatic significance, there is no help for him. i am inclined to think that the fear of seeming exuberant or foolish, the unwillingness to give one's inner self to others, or a self-consciousness which prevents it, is at the root of much apparent lack of "temperament." the singer must be both the narrator of the story of the poem and the impersonator of the principal characters in that story. upon the completeness of his understanding of the meaning of the poem, and his revelation of its meanings, as well as upon the absence of stiffness or self-consciousness in suggesting the moods or characteristics displayed, will depend the impression of temperamental force upon his audience. the following suggestions may be of some value as devices in making songs mean something; and this, after all, is the object of all attempts at interpretation. suppose you take a new song--one you have never seen before. do not sit at the pianoforte, and play at it and sing at it until, after a fashion, you know it. this way of learning leads to the kind of statement recently heard after a peculiarly bad performance, "why, i never think of the words at all when i sing!" instead of doing this, if you have been taught to do so, read the song through, observing its general character. if thinking music without playing or singing be impossible for you, play it over, carefully noting _tempo_ and other general characteristics, until you have an understanding of the melody, rhythm, and musical content. observe how the words fit the music, still without singing. then read the poem silently and carefully, and decide whether it is narrative, lyric, dramatic, churchly, or in other ways distinctive. next read the poem aloud, giving the voice character appropriate to its sentiment, phrasing it intelligibly, observing the emotional portent, and coloring it accordingly. if the poem be narrative, tell the story with life and vitality; if it be dramatic, attempt to impersonate the characters concerned; if it be devotional, recite with dignity and devotional quality. finally, when both words and music are well in the mind, if possible with an accompaniment, but certainly standing, sing the song. sing, making a compromise between the strict rhythmical value of the notes and the demands of the sense of the words. keep the general outlines of the music so far as phrasing and rhythm are concerned; but whenever a sacrifice must be made, sacrifice the musical value and emphasize the emotion, the meaning, the poetry, the dramatic or narrative significance of the words. phrase with this end in view; sacrifice anything except tone-production to this end. do not distort the rhythm, but bend it sufficiently to emphasize important words and syllables, by holding them a little, at the expense of unimportant words or syllables. finally, remember that misguided enthusiasm is not interpretation. no real interpretation is possible without a full comprehension of the meaning of both words and music. study the voice. study its possibilities and its limitations. study music until the musical element of difficulty is reduced to a minimum, and until the character, style, and traditions of the various song forms are well within your grasp. no matter how beautiful may be the voice, or how well placed, no amount of enthusiasm or temperament can atone for a meaningless or unintelligent treatment of the intellectual, emotional, and musical characteristics of the song as a whole. supplementary note. the tendency of many is to raise the hands and arms too high; the hands should not be raised above the waist-line. if raised too high, the energy is often put in the action of the arms instead of the body; or the upper part of the body only is moved, and thus the most important effect or influence for power and control is wanting. the action must be from the hips up, and not only from the hips, but the hips must act and expand with the body. remember the center of gravity must be at the hips. if it is found that the tendency is to raise the hands too high, then try or study the action as follows: place the hands upon the hips, and when coming into action, when seeking the level of the tone, or during the act of singing, see that the hips expand freely and evenly with the body. this should be tried and practiced frequently by all in order that the movement may be from the hips up and not above the hips only. when the hips are thus brought into action, the abdominal muscles and the diaphragm are strengthened, and their position and action are correct. when the upper part of the body only is brought into action the position of the diaphragm and abdominal muscles is often weakened. remember that the basic law or foundation principle of our whole system of movements is movement from the hips up, including the action or expansion of the hips in connection with the movements of the entire body. [the spelling of the original has been retained.] observations on the florid song; or, sentiments on the _ancient_ and _modern_ singers, written in _italian_ by pier. francesco tosi, of the _phil-harmonic_ academy at _bologna_. translated into _english_ by mr. _galliard_. useful for all performers, _instrumental_ as well as _vocal_. to which are added explanatory annotations, and examples in musick. _ornari res ipsa negat, contenta doceri._ _london_: printed for j. wilcox, at _virgil's_ head, in the _strand_. . _note_, by the _ancient_, our author means those who liv'd about thirty or forty years ago; and by the _modern_ the late and present singers. n.b. _the original was printed at_ bologna, _in the year_ . _reprinted from the second edition by_ william reeves bookseller ltd., a norbury crescent, london, s.w. made in england [illustration] to all lovers of musick. ladies and gentlemen, persons of eminence, rank, quality, and a distinguishing taste in any particular art or science, are always in view of authors who want a patron for that art or science, which they endeavour to recommend and promote. no wonder therefore, i should have fix'd my mind on you, to patronize the following treatise. if there are charms in musick in general, all the reasonable world agrees, that the _vocal_ has the pre-eminence, both from _nature_ and _art_ above the instrumental: from _nature_ because without doubt it was the first; from _art_, because thereby the voice may be brought to express sounds with greater nicety and exactness than instruments. the charms of the human voice, even in speaking, are very powerful. it is well known, that in _oratory_ a just _modulation_ of it is of the highest consequence. the care antiquity took to bring it to perfection, is a sufficient demonstration of the opinion they had of its power; and every body, who has a discerning faculty, may have experienced that sometimes a discourse, by the power of the _orator's_ voice, has made an impression, which was lost in the reading. but, above all, the soft and pleasing voice of the _fair sex_ has irresistible charms and adds considerably to their beauty. if the voice then has such singular prerogatives, one must naturally wish its perfection in musical performances, and be inclined to forward any thing that may be conducive to that end. this is the reason why i have been more easily prevail'd upon to engage in this work, in order to make a famous _italian master_, who treats so well on this subject, familiar to _england_; and why i presume to offer it to your protection. the part, i bear in it, is not enough to claim any merit; but my endeavouring to offer to your perusal what may be entertaining, and of service, intitles me humbly to recommend myself to your favour: who am, ladies _and_ gentlemen, _your most devoted, and most obedient humble servant_, j. e. galliard. [illustration] a prefatory discourse giving _some account of the_ author. _pier._ _francesco tosi_, the author of the following treatise, was an _italian_, and a singer of great esteem and reputation. he spent the most part of his life in travelling, and by that means heard the most eminent singers in _europe_, from whence, by the help of his nice taste, he made the following observations. among his many excursions, his curiosity was raised to visit _england_, where he resided for some time in the reigns of king _james_ the second, king _william_, king _george_ the first, and the beginning of his present majesty's: he dy'd soon after, having lived to above fourscore. he had a great deal of wit and vivacity, which he retained to his latter days. his manner of singing was full of expression and passion; chiefly in the stile of chamber-musick. the best performers in his time thought themselves happy when they could have an opportunity to hear him. after he had lost his voice, he apply'd himself more particularly to composition; of which he has given proof in his _cantata's_, which are of an exquisite taste, especially in the _recitatives_, where he excels in the _pathetick_ and _expression_ beyond any other. he was a zealous well-wisher to all who distinguished themselves in musick; but rigorous to those who abused and degraded the profession. he was very much esteemed by persons of rank among whom the late earl of _peterborough_ was one, having often met him in his travels beyond sea; and he was well received by his lordship when in _england_, to whom he dedicated this treatise. this alone would be a sufficient indication of his merit, his being taken notice of by a person of that quality, and distinguishing taste. the emperor _joseph_ gave him an honourable employment _arch-duchess_ a church-retirement in some part of _italy_, and the late _flanders_, where he died. as for his _observations_ and _sentiments_ on singing, they must speak for themselves; and the translation of them, it is hoped, will be acceptable to lovers of musick, because this particular branch has never been treated of in so distinct and ample a manner by any other author. besides, it has been thought by persons of judgment, that it would be of service to make the sentiments of our author more universally known, when a false taste in musick is so prevailing; and, that these censures, as they are passed by an _italian_ upon his own countrymen, cannot but be looked upon as impartial. it is incontestable, that the neglect of true study, the sacrificing the beauty of the voice to a number of ill-regulated volubilities, the neglecting the pronunciation and expression of the words, besides many other things taken notice of in this treatise, are all _bad_. the studious will find, that our author's remarks will be of advantage, not only to vocal performers, but likewise to the instrumental, where taste and a manner are required; and shew, that a little less _fiddling_ with the _voice_, and a little more _singing_ with the _instrument_, would be of great service to both. whosoever reads this treatise with application, cannot fail of improvement by it. it is hoped, that the translation will be indulged, if, notwithstanding all possible care, it should be defective in the purity of the _english_ language! it being almost impossible (considering the stile of our author, which is a little more figurative than the present taste of the _english_ allows in their writings,) not to retain something of the idiom of the original; but where the sense of the matter is made plain, the stile may not be thought so material, in writings of this kind. the author's dedication to his excellency the earl of peterborough, general of the marines of _great-britain_. my lord, i should be afraid of leaving the world under the imputation of ingratitude, should i any longer defer publishing the very many favours, which _your lordship_ so generously has bestow'd on me in _italy_, in _germany_, in _flanders_, in _england_; and principally at your delightful seat at _parson's-green_, where _your lordship_ having been pleased to do me the honour of imparting to me your thoughts with freedom, i have often had the opportunity of admiring your extensive knowledge, which almost made me overlook the beauty and elegance of the place. the famous _tulip-tree_, in your garden there is not so surprising a rarity, as the uncommon penetration of your judgment, which has sometimes (i may say) foretold events, which have afterwards come to pass. but what return can i make for so great obligations, when the mentioning of them is doing myself an honour, and the very acknowledgment has the appearance of _vanity_? it is better therefore to treasure them up in my heart, and remain respectfully silent; only making an humble request to _your lordship_ that you will condescend favourably to accept this mean offering of my observations; which i am induc'd to make, from the common duty which lies upon every professor to preserve musick in its perfection; and upon me in particular, for having been the first, or among the first, of those who discovered the noble genius of your potent and generous nation for it. however, i should not have presum'd to dedicate them to a hero adorn'd with such glorious actions, if _singing_ was not a delight of the soul, or if any one had a soul more sensible of its charms. on which account, i think, i have a just pretence to declare myself, with profound obsequiousness, your lordship's _most humble_, _most devoted and_ _most oblig'd servant_, pier. francesco tosi. the contents. the introduction. chap. i. observations for one who teaches a _soprano_. chap ii. of the _appoggiatura_. chap. iii. of the _shake_. chap. iv. on _divisions_. chap. v. of _recitative_. chap. vi. observations for a _student_. chap. vii. of _airs_. chap. viii. of _cadences_. chap. ix. observations for a _singer_. chap. x. of _passages_ or _graces_. footnotes. the introduction. the opinions of the ancient historians, on the origin of musick, are various. _pliny_ believes that _amphion_ was the inventor of it; the _grecians_ maintain, that it was _dionysius_; _polybius_ ascribes it to the _arcadians_; _suidas_ and _boetius_ give the glory entirely to _pythagoras_; asserting, that from the sound of three hammers of different weights at a smith's forge, he found out the diatonick; after which _timotheus_, the _milesian_, added the chromatick, and _olympicus_, or _olympus_, the enharmonick scale. however, we read in holy writ, that _jubal_, of the race of _cain, fuit pater canentium citharâ & organo_, the father of all such as handle the harp and organ; instruments, in all probability consisting of several harmonious sounds; from whence one may infer, musick to have had its birth very soon after the world. § . to secure her from erring, she called to her assistance many precepts of the mathematicks; and from the demonstrations of her beauties, by means of lines, numbers, and proportions, she was adopted her child, and became a science. § . it may reasonably be supposed that, during the course of several thousand years, musick has always been the delight of mankind; since the excessive pleasure, the _lacedemonians_ received from it, induced that republick to exile the abovementioned _milesian_, that the _spartans_, freed from their effeminacy, might return again to their old oeconomy. § . but, i believe, she never appeared with so much majesty as in the last centuries, in the great genius of _palestrina_, whom she left as an immortal example to posterity. and, in truth, musick, with the sweetness of _his_ harmony, arrived at so high a pitch (begging pardon of the eminent masters of our days), that if she was ranked only in the number of liberal arts, she might with justice contest the pre-eminence[ ]. § . a strong argument offers itself to me, from that wonderful impression, that in so distinguished a manner is made upon our souls by musick, beyond all other arts; which leads us to believe that it is part of that blessedness which is enjoyed in paradise. § . having premised these advantages, the merit of the singer should likewise be distinguished, by reason of the particular difficulties that attend him: let a singer have a fund of knowledge sufficient to perform readily any of the most difficult compositions; let him have, besides, an excellent voice, and know how to use it artfully; he will not, for all that, deserve a character of distinction, if he is wanting in a prompt variation; a difficulty which other arts are not liable to. § . finally, i say, that poets[ ], painters, sculptors, and even composers of musick, before they expose their works to the publick, have all the time requisite to mend and polish them; but the singer that commits an error has no remedy; for the fault is committed, and past correction. § . we may then guess at but cannot describe, how great the application must be of one who is obliged not to err, in unpremeditated productions; and to manage a voice, always in motion, conformable to the rules of an art that is so difficult. i confess ingeniously, that every time i reflect on the insufficiency of many masters, and the infinite abuses they introduce, which render the application and study of their scholars ineffectual, i cannot but wonder, that among so many professors of the first rank, who have written so amply on musick in almost all its branches, there has never been one, at least that i have heard of, who has undertaken to explain in the art of singing, any thing more than the first elements, known to all, concealing the most necessary rules for singing well. it is no excuse to say, that the composers intent on composition, the performers on instruments intent on their performance, should not meddle with what concerns the singer; for i know some very capable to undeceive those who may think so. the incomparable _zarlino_, in the third part of his harmonick institution, chap. , just began to inveigh against those, who in his time sung with some defects, but he stopped; and i am apt to believe had he gone farther, his documents, though grown musty in two centuries, might be of service to the refined taste of this our present time. but a more just reproof is due to the negligence of many celebrated singers, who, having a superior knowledge, can the less justify their silence, even under the title of modesty, which ceases to be a virtue, when it deprives the publick of an advantage. moved therefore, not by a vain ambition, but by the hopes of being of service to several professors, i have determined, not without reluctance, to be the first to expose to the eye of the world these my few observations; my only end being (if i succeed) to give farther insight to the master, the scholar, and the singer. § . i will in the first place, endeavour to shew the duty of a master, how to instruct a beginner well; secondly, what is required of the scholar; and, lastly, with more mature reflections, to point out the way to a moderate singer, by which he may arrive at greater perfection. perhaps my enterprize may be term'd rash, but if the effects should not answer my intentions, i shall at least incite some other to treat of it in a more ample and correct manner. § . if any should say, i might be dispensed with for not publishing things already known to every professor, he might perhaps deceive himself; for among these observations there are many, which as i have never heard them made by anybody else, i shall look upon as my own; and such probably they are, from their not being generally known. let them therefore take their chance, for the approbation of those that have judgment and taste. § . it would be needless to say, that verbal instructions can be of no use to singers, any farther than to prevent 'em from falling into errors, and that it is practice only can set them right. however, from the success of these, i shall be encouraged to go on to make new discoveries for the advantage of the profession, or (asham'd, but not surpriz'd) i will bear it patiently, if masters with their names to their criticism should kindly publish my ignorance, that i may be undeceiv'd, and thank them. § . but though it is my design to demonstrate a great number of abuses and defects of the moderns to be met with in the republick of musick, in order that they may be corrected (if they can); i would not have those, who for want of genius, or through negligence in their study, could not, or would not improve themselves, imagine that out of malice i have painted all their imperfections to the life; for i solemnly protest, that though from my too great zeal i attack their errors without ceremony, i have a respect for their persons; having learned from a _spanish_ proverb, that calumny recoils back on the author. but christianity says something more. i speak in general; but if sometimes i am more particular, let it be known, that i copy from no other original than myself, where there has been, and still is matter enough to criticize, without looking for it elsewhere. chap. i. observations _for one who teaches a_ soprano.[ ] the faults in singing insinuate themselves so easily into the minds of young beginners, and there are such difficulties in correcting them, when grown into an habit that it were to be wish'd, the ablest singers would undertake the task of teaching, they best knowing how to conduct the scholar from the first elements to perfection. but there being none, (if i mistake not) but who abhor the thoughts of it, we must reserve them for those delicacies of the art, which enchant the soul. § . therefore the first rudiments necessarily fall to a master of a lower rank, till the scholar can sing his part at sight; whom one would at least wish to be an honest man, diligent and experienced, without the defects of singing through the nose, or in the throat, and that he have a command of voice, some glimpse of a good taste, able to make himself understood with ease, a perfect intonation, and a patience to endure the severe fatigue of a most tiresome employment. § . let a master thus qualified before he begins his instructions, read the four verses of _virgil_, _sic vos non vobis_, &c.[ ] for they seem to be made[ ] on purpose for him, and after having considered them well, let him consult his resolution; because (to speak plainly) it is mortifying to help another to affluence, and be in want of it himself. if the singer should make his fortune, it is but just the master, to whom it has been owing, should be also a sharer in it. § . but above all, let him hear with a disinterested ear, whether the person desirous to learn hath a voice, and a disposition; that he may not be obliged to give a strict account to god, of the parent's money ill spent, and the injury done to the child, by the irreparable loss of time, which might have been more profitably employed in some other profession. i do not speak at random. the ancient masters made a distinction between the rich, that learn'd musick as an accomplishment, and the poor, who studied it for a livelihood. the first they instructed out of interest, and the latter out of charity, if they discovered a singular talent. very few modern masters refuse scholars; and, provided they are paid, little do they care if their greediness ruins the profession. § . gentlemen masters! _italy_ hears no more such exquisite voices as in times past, particularly among the women, and to the shame of the guilty i'll tell the reason: the ignorance of the parents does not let them perceive the badness of the voice of their children, as their necessity makes them believe, that to sing and grow rich is one and the same thing, and to learn musick, it is enough to have a pretty face: "_can you make anything of her?_" § . you may, perhaps, teach them with their voice----modesty will not permit me to explain myself farther. § . the master must want humanity, if he advises a scholar to do any thing to the prejudice of the soul. § . from the first lesson to the last, let the master remember, that he is answerable for any omission in his instructions, and for the errors he did not correct. § . let him be moderately severe, making himself fear'd, but not hated. i know, it is not easy to find the mean between severity and mildness, but i know also, that both extremes are bad: too great severity creates stubbornness, and too great mildness contempt. § . i shall not speak of the knowledge of the notes, of their value, of time, of pauses, of the accidents, nor of other such trivial beginnings, because they are generally known. § . besides the _c_ cliff, let the scholar be instructed in all the other cliffs, and in all their situations, that he may not be liable to what often happens to some singers, who, in compositions _alla capella_,[ ] know not how to distinguish the _mi_ from the _fa_, without the help of the organ, for want of the knowledge of the _g_ cliff; from whence such discordancies arise in divine service, that it is a shame for those who grow old in their ignorance. i must be so sincere to declare, that whoever does not give such essential instructions, transgresses out of omission, or out of ignorance.[ ] § . next let him learn to read those in _b molle_, especially in those[ ] compositions that have four flats at the cliff, and which on the sixth of the bass require for the most part an accidental flat, that the scholar may find in them the _mi_, which is not so easy to one who has studied but little, and thinks that all the notes with a flat are called _fa_: for if that were true, it would be superfluous that the notes should be six, when five of them have the same denomination. the _french_ use seven, and, by that additional name, save their scholars the trouble of learning the mutations ascending or descending; but we _italians_ have but _ut_, _re_, _mi_, _fa_, _sol_, _la_; notes which equally suffice throughout all the keys, to one who knows how to read them.[ ] § . let the master do his utmost, to make the scholar hit and sound the notes perfectly in tune in _sol-fa_-ing. one, who has not a good ear, should not undertake either to instruct, or to sing; it being intolerable to hear a voice perpetually rise and fall discordantly. let the instructor reflect on it; for one that sings out of tune loses all his other perfections. i can truly say, that, except in some few professors, that modern intonation is very bad. § . in the _sol-fa_-ing, let him endeavour to gain by degrees the high notes, that by the help of this exercise he may acquire as much compass of the voice as possible. let him take care, however, that the higher the notes, the more it is necessary to touch them with softness, to avoid screaming. § . he ought to make him hit the semitones according to the true rules. every one knows not that there is a semitone major and minor,[ ] because the difference cannot be known by an organ or harpsichord, if the keys of the instrument are not split. a tone, that gradually passes to another, is divided into nine almost imperceptible intervals, which are called comma's, five of which constitute the semitone major, and four the minor. some are of opinion, that there are no more than seven, and that the greatest number of the one half constitutes the first, and the less the second; but this does not satisfy my weak understanding, for the ear would find no difficulty to distinguish the seventh part of a tone; whereas it meets with a very great one to distinguish the ninth. if one were continually to sing only to those abovemention'd instruments, this knowledge might be unnecessary; but since the time that composers introduced the custom of crowding the opera's with a vast number of songs accompanied with bow instruments, it becomes so necessary, that if a _soprano_ was to sing _d_ sharp, like _e_ flat, a nice ear will find he is out of tune, because this last rises. whoever is not satisfied in this, let him read those authors who treat of it, and let him consult the best performers on the violin. in the middle parts, however, it is not so easy to distinguish the difference; tho' i am of opinion, that every thing that is divisible, is to be distinguished. of these two semitones, i'll speak more amply in the chapter of the _appoggiatura_, that the one may not be confounded with the other. § . let him teach the scholar to hit the intonation of any interval in the scale perfectly and readily, and keep him strictly to this important lesson, if he is desirous he should sing with readiness in a short time. § . if the master does not understand composition, let him provide himself with good examples of _sol-fa_-ing in divers stiles, which insensibly lead from the most easy to the more difficult, according as he finds the scholar improves; with this caution, that however difficult, they may be always natural and agreeable, to induce the scholar to study with pleasure. § . let the master attend with great care to the voice of the scholar, which, whether it be _di petto_, or _di testa_, should always come forth neat and clear, without passing thro' the nose, or being choaked in the throat; which are two the most horrible defects in a singer, and past all remedy if once grown into a habit[ ]. § . the little experience of some that teach to _sol-fa_, obliges the scholar to hold out the _semibreves_ with force on the highest notes; the consequence of which is, that the glands of the throat become daily more and more inflamed, and if the scholar loses not his health, he loses the treble voice. § . many masters put their scholars to sing the _contr'alto_, not knowing how to help them to the _falsetto_, or to avoid the trouble of finding it. § . a diligent master, knowing that a _soprano_, without the _falsetto_, is constrained to sing within the narrow compass of a few notes, ought not only to endeavour to help him to it, but also to leave no means untried, so to unite the feigned and the natural voice, that they may not be distinguished; for if they do not perfectly unite, the voice will be of divers[ ] registers, and must consequently lose its beauty. the extent of the full natural voice terminates generally upon the fourth space, which is _c_; or on the fifth line, which is _d_; and there the feigned voice becomes of use, as well in going up to the high notes, as returning to the natural voice; the difficulty consists in uniting them. let the master therefore consider of what moment the correction of this defect is, which ruins the scholar if he overlooks it. among the women, one hears sometimes a _soprano_ entirely _di petto_, but among the male sex it would be a great rarity, should they preserve it after having past the age of puberty. whoever would be curious to discover the feigned voice of one who has the art to disguise it, let him take notice, that the artist sounds the vowel _i_, or _e_, with more strength and less fatigue than the vowel _a_, on the high notes. § . the _voce di testa_ has a great volubility, more of the high than the lower notes, and has a quick shake, but subject to be lost for want of strength. § . let the scholar be obliged to pronounce the vowels distinctly, that they may be heard for such as they are. some singers think to pronounce the first, and you hear the second; if the fault is not the master's, it is of those singers, who are scarce got out of their first lessons; they study to sing with affectation, as if ashamed to open their mouths; others, on the contrary, stretching theirs too much, confound these two vowels with the fourth, making it impossible to comprehend whether they have said _balla_ or _bella_, _sesso_ or _sasso_, _mare_ or _more_. § . he should always make the scholar sing standing, that the voice may have all its organization free. § . let him take care, whilst he sings, that he get a graceful posture, and make an agreeable appearance. § . let him rigorously correct all grimaces and tricks of the head, of the body, and particularly of the mouth; which ought to be composed in a manner (if the sense of the words permit it) rather inclined to a smile, than too much gravity. § . let him always use the scholar to the pitch of _lombardy_, and not that of _rome_;[ ] not only to make him acquire and preserve the high notes, but also that he may not find it troublesome when he meets with instruments that are tun'd high; the pain of reaching them not only affecting the hearer, but the singer. let the master be mindful of this; for as age advances, so the voice declines; and, in progress of time, he will either sing a _contr'alto_, or pretending still, out of a foolish vanity, to the name of a _soprano_, he will be obliged to make application to every composer, that the notes may not exceed the fourth space (_viz._, _c_) nor the voice hold out on them. if all those, who teach the first rudiments, knew how to make use of this rule, and to unite the feigned to the natural voice, there would not be now so great a scarcity of _soprano's_. § . let him learn to hold out the notes without a shrillness like a trumpet, or trembling; and if at the beginning he made him hold out every note the length of two bars, the improvement would be the greater; otherwise from the natural inclination that the beginners have to keep the voice in motion, and the trouble in holding it out, he will get a habit, and not be able to fix it, and will become subject to a flutt'ring in the manner of all those that sing in a very bad taste. § . in the same lessons, let him teach the art to put forth the voice, which consists in letting it swell by degrees from the softest _piano_ to the loudest _forte_, and from thence with the same art return from the _forte_ to the _piano_. a beautiful _messa di voce_,[ ] from a singer that uses it sparingly, and only on the open vowels, can never fail of having an exquisite effect. very few of the present singers find it to their taste, either from the instability of their voice, or in order to avoid all manner of resemblance of the _odious ancients_. it is, however, a manifest injury they do to the nightingale, who was the origin of it, and the only thing which the voice can well imitate. but perhaps they have found some other of the feathered kind worthy their imitation, that sings quite after the new mode. § . let the master never be tired in making the scholar _sol-fa_, as long as he finds it necessary; for if he should let him sing upon the vowels too soon, he knows not how to instruct. § . next, let him study on the three open vowels, particularly on the first, but not always upon the same, as is practised now-a-days; in order, that from this frequent exercise he may not confound one with the other, and that from hence he may the easier come to the use of the words. § . the scholar having now made some remarkable progress, the instructor may acquaint him with the first embellishments of the art, which are the _appoggiatura's_[ ] (to be spoke of next) and apply them to the vowels. § . let him learn the manner to glide with the vowels, and to drag the voice gently from the high to the lower notes, which, thro' qualifications necessary for singing well, cannot possibly be learn'd from _sol-fa_-ing only, and are overlooked by the unskilful. § . but if he should let him sing the words, and apply the _appoggiatura_ to the vowels before he is perfect in _sol-fa_-ing, he ruins the scholar. chap. ii.[ ] _of the_ appoggiatura.[ ] among all the embellishments in the art of singing, there is none so easy for the master to teach, or less difficult for the scholar to learn, than the _appoggiatura_. this, besides its beauty, has obtained the sole privilege of being heard often without tiring, provided it does not go beyond the limits prescrib'd by professors of good taste. § . from the time that the _appoggiatura_ has been invented to adorn the art of singing, the true reason,[ ] why it cannot be used in all places, remains yet a secret. after having searched for it among singers of the first rank in vain, i considered that musick, as a science, ought to have its rules, and that all manner of ways should be tried to discover them. i do not flatter myself that i am arrived at it; but the judicious will see, at least that i am come near it. however, treating of a matter wholly produced from my observations, i should hope for more indulgence in this chapter than in any other. § . from practice, i perceive, that from _c_ to _c_ by _b quadro_,[ ] a voice can ascend and descend gradually with the _appoggiatura_, passing without any the least obstacle thro' all the five _tones_, and the two _semitones_, that make an _octave_. § . that from every accidental _diezis_, or sharp, that may be found in the scale, one can gradually rise a _semitone_ to the nearest note with an _appoggiatura_, and return in the same manner.[ ] § . that from every note that has a _b quadro_, or natural, one can ascend by _semitones_ to every one that has a _b molle_, or flat, with an _appoggiatura_.[ ] § . but, contrarywise, my ear tells me, that from _f_, _g_, _a_, _c_, and _d_, one cannot rise gradually with an _appoggiatura_ by _semitones_,[ ] when any of these five _tones_ have a sharp annex'd to them. § . that one cannot pass with an _appoggiatura_ gradually from a third _minor_ to the bass, to a third _major_, nor from the third _major_ to the third _minor_.[ ] § . that two consequent _appoggiatura's_ cannot pass gradually by _semitones_ from one _tone_ to another.[ ] § . that one cannot rise by _semitone_, with an _appoggiatura_, from any note with a flat.[ ] § . and, finally, where the _appoggiatura_ cannot ascend, it cannot descend. § . practice giving us no insight into the reason of all these rules, let us see if it can be found out by those who ought to account for it. § . theory teaches us, that the abovementioned _octave_ consisting of twelve unequal _semitones_, it is necessary to distinguish the _major_ from the _minor_, and it sends the student to consult the _tetrachords_. the most conspicuous authors, that treat of them, are not all of the same opinion: for we find some who maintain, that from _c_ to _d_, as well as from _f_ to _g_, the _semitones_ are equal; and mean while we are left in suspense.[ ] § . the ear, however, which is the supreme umpire in this art, does in the _appoggiatura_ so nicely discern the quality of the _semitones_, that it sufficiently distinguishes the _semitone major_. therefore going so agreeably from _mi_ to _fa_ (that is) from _b quadro_ to _c_, or from _e_ to _f_, one ought to conclude that to be a _semitone major_, as it undeniably is. but whence does it proceed, that from this very _fa_, (that is from _f_ or _c_) i cannot rise to the next sharp, which is also a _semitone_? it is _minor_, says the ear. therefore i take it for granted, that the reason why the _appoggiatura_ has not a full liberty, is, that it cannot pass gradually to a _semitone minor_; submitting myself, however, to better judgment.[ ] § . the _appoggiatura_ may likewise pass from one distant note to another, provided the skip or interval be not deceitful; for, in that case, whoever does not hit it sure, will show they know not how to sing.[ ] § . since, as i have said, it is not possible for a singer to rise gradually with an _appoggiatura_ to a _semitone minor_, nature will teach him to rise a tone, that from thence he may descend with an _appoggiatura to that semitone_; _or if he has a mind to_ come to it without the _appoggiatura_, to raise the voice with a _messa di voce_, the voice always rising till he reaches it.[ ] § . if the scholar be well instructed in this, the _appoggiatura's_ will become so familiar to him by continual practice, that by the time he is come out of his first lessons, he will laugh at those composers that mark them, with a design either to be thought modern, or to shew that they understand the art of singing better than the singers. if they have this superiority over them, why do they not write down even the graces, which are more difficult, and more essential than the _appoggiatura's_? but if they mark them that they may acquire the glorious name of a _virtuoso alla moda_, or a composer in the new stile, they ought at least to know, that the addition of one note costs little trouble, and less study. poor _italy_! pray tell me; do not the singers now-a-days know where the _appoggiatura's_ are to be made, unless they are pointed at with a finger? in my time their own knowledge shewed it them. eternal shame to him who first introduced these foreign puerilities into our nation, renowned for teaching others the greater part of the polite arts; particularly, that of singing! oh, how great a weakness in those that follow the example! oh, injurious insult to your modern singers, who submit to instructions fit for children! let us imitate the foreigners in those things only, wherein they excel.[ ] chap. iii. _of the shake._ we meet with two most powerful obstacles informing the _shake_. the first embarrasses the master; for, to this hour there is no infallible rule found to teach it: and the second affects the scholar, because nature imparts the _shake_ but to few. the impatience of the master joins with the despair of the learner, so that they decline farther trouble about it. but in this the master is blameable, in not doing his duty, by leaving the scholar in ignorance. one must strive against difficulties with patience to overcome them. § . whether the _shake_ be necessary in singing, ask the professors of the first rank, who know better than any others how often they have been indebted to it; for, upon any absence of mind, they would have betrayed to the publick the sterility of their art, without the prompt assistance of the _shake_. § . whoever has a fine _shake_, tho' wanting in every other grace, always enjoys the advantage of conducting himself without giving distaste to the end or cadence, where for the most part it is very essential; and who wants it, or has it imperfectly, will never be a great singer, let his knowledge be ever so great. § . the _shake_ then, being of such consequence, let the master, by the means of verbal instructions, and examples vocal and instrumental, strive that the scholar may attain one that is equal, distinctly mark'd, easy, and moderately quick, which are its most beautiful qualifications. § . in case the master should not know how many sorts of _shakes_ there are, i shall acquaint him, that the ingenuity of the professors hath found so many ways, distinguishing them with different names, that one may say there are eight species of them.[ ] § . the first is the _shake major_, from the violent motion of two neighbouring sounds at the distance of a _tone_, one of which may be called principal, because it keeps with greater force the place of the note which requires it; the other, notwithstanding it possesses in its motion the superior sound appears no other than an auxiliary. from this _shake_ all the others are derived.[ ] § . the second is the _shake minor_, consisting of a sound, and its neighbouring _semitone major_; and where the one or the other of these, two _shakes_ are proper, the compositions will easily shew. from the inferior or lower cadences, the first, or full _tone shake_ is for ever excluded.[ ] if the difference of these two _shakes_ is not easily discovered in the singer, whenever it is with a _semitone_, one may attribute the cause to the want of force of the auxiliary to make itself heard distinctly; besides, this _shake_ being more difficult to be beat than the other, every body does not know how to make it, as it should be, and negligence becomes a habit. if this _shake_ is not distinguished in instruments, the fault is in the ear.[ ] § . the third is the _mezzo-trillo_, or the short _shake_, which is likewise known from its name. one, who is master of the first and second, with the art of beating it a little closer, will easily learn it; ending it as soon as heard, and adding a little brilliant. for this reason, this _shake_ pleases more in brisk and lively airs than in the _pathetick_.[ ] § . the fourth is the rising _shake_, which is done by making the voice ascend imperceptibly, shaking from comma to comma without discovering the rise.[ ] § . the fifth is the descending _shake_, which is done by making the voice decline insensibly from comma to comma, shaking in such manner that the descent be not distinguished. these two _shakes_, ever since true[ ] taste has prevailed, are no more in vogue, and ought rather to be forgot than learn'd. a nice ear equally abhorrs the ancient dry stuff, and the modern abuses. § . the sixth is the slow _shake_, whose quality is also denoted by its name. he, who does not study this, in my opinion ought not therefore to lose the name of a good singer; for it being only an affected waving, that at last unites with the first and second _shake_, it cannot, i think, please more than once.[ ] § . the seventh is the redoubled _shake_, which is learned by mixing a few notes between the _major_ or _minor shake_, which interposition suffices to make several _shakes_ of one. this is beautiful, when those few notes, so intermixed, are sung with force. if then it be gently formed on the high notes of an excellent voice,[ ] perfect in this rare quality, and not made use of too often, it cannot displease even envy itself. § . the eighth is the _trillo-mordente_, or the _shake_ with a _beat_, which is a pleasing grace in singing, and is taught rather by nature than by art. this is produced with more velocity than the others, and is no sooner born but dies. that singer has a great advantage, who from time to time mixes it in passages or divisions (of which i shall take notice in the proper chapter). he, who understands his profession, rarely fails of using it after the _appoggiatura_; and he, who despises it, is guilty of more than ignorance.[ ] § . of all these _shakes_, the two first are most necessary, and require most the application of the master. i know too well that it is customary to sing without _shakes_; but the example, of those who study but superficially, ought not to be imitated. § . the _shake_, to be beautiful, requires to be prepared, though, on some occasions, time or taste will not permit it. but on final cadences, it is always necessary, now on the tone, now on the _semitone_ above its note, according to the nature of the composition. § . the defects of the _shake_ are many. the long holding-out _shake_ triumph'd formerly, and very improperly, as now the divisions do; but when the art grew refined, it was left to the trumpets, or to those singers that waited for the eruption of an _e viva_! or _bravo_! from the populace. that _shake_ which is too often heard, be it ever so fine, cannot please. that which is beat with an uneven motion disgusts; that like the quivering of a goat makes one laugh; and that in the throat is the worst: that which is produced by a tone and its third, is disagreeable; the slow is tiresome; and that which is out of tune is hideous. § . the necessity of the _shake_ obliges the master to keep the scholar applied to it upon all the vowels, and on all the notes he possesses; not only on minims or long notes, but likewise on crotchets, where in process of time he may learn the _close shake_, the _beat_, and the forming them with quickness in the midst of the volubility of graces and divisions. § . after the free use of the _shake_, let the master observe if the scholar has the same facility in disusing it; for he would not be the first that could not leave it off at pleasure. § . but the teaching where the _shake_ is convenient, besides those on[ ] cadences, and where they are improper and forbid, is a lesson reserv'd for those who have practice, taste, and knowledge. chap. iv. _on_ divisions. tho' _divisions_ have not power sufficient to touch the soul, but the most they can do is to raise our admiration of the singer for the happy flexibility of his voice; it is, however, of very great moment, that the master instruct the scholar in them, that he may be master of them with an easy velocity and true intonation; for when they are well executed in their proper place, they deserve applause, and make a singer more universal; that is to say, capable to sing in any stile. § . by accustoming the voice of a learner to be lazy and dragging, he is rendered incapable of any considerable progress in his profession. whosoever has not the agility of voice, in compositions of a quick or lively movement, becomes odiously tiresome; and at last retards the time so much, that every thing he sings appears to be out of tune. § . _division_, according to the general opinion, is of two kinds, the mark'd, and the gliding; which last, from its slowness and dragging, ought rather to be called a passage or grace, than a _division_. § . in regard to the first, the master ought to teach the scholar that light motion of the voice, in which the notes that constitute the division be all articulate in equal proportion, and moderately distinct, that they be not too much join'd, nor too much mark'd.[ ] § . the second is perform'd in such a manner that the first note is a guide to all that follow, closely united, gradual, and with such evenness of motion, that in singing it imitates a certain gliding, by the masters called a _slur_; the effect of which is truly agreeable when used sparingly.[ ] § . the _mark'd divisions_, being more frequently used than the others, require more practice. § . the use of the _slur_ is pretty much limited in singing, and is confined within such few notes ascending or descending, that it cannot go beyond a fourth without displeasing. it seems to me to be more grateful to the ear descending, than in the contrary motion. § . the _dragg_ consists in a succession of divers notes, artfully mixed with the _forte_ and _piano_. the beauty of which i shall speak of in another place. § . if the master hastens insensibly the time when the scholar sings the _divisions_, he will find that there is not a more effectual way to unbind the voice, and bring it to a volubility; being however cautious, that this imperceptible alteration do not grow by degrees into a vicious habit. § . let him teach to hit the _divisions_ with the same agility in ascending gradually, as in descending; for though this seems to be an instruction fit only for a beginner, yet we do not find every singer able to perform it. § . after the gradual _divisions_, let him learn to hit, with the greatest readiness, all those that are of difficult intervals, that, being in tune and time, they may with justice deserve our attention. the study of this lesson demands more time and application than any other, not so much for the great difficulty in attaining it, as the important consequences that attend it; and, in fact, a singer loses all fear when the most difficult _divisions_ are become familiar to him. § . let him not be unmindful to teach the manner of mixing the _piano_ with the _forte_ in the _divisions_; the _glidings_ or _slurs_ with the _mark'd_, and to intermix the _close shake_; especially on the pointed notes, provided they be not too near one another; making by this means every embellishment of the art appear. § . of all the instructions relating to _divisions_, the most considerable seems to be that, which teaches to unite the _beats_ and _short shake_ with them; and that the master point out to him, how to execute them with exactness of time, and the places where they have the best effect: but this being not so proper for one who teaches only the first rules, and still less for him that begins to learn them, it would be better to have postponed this (as perhaps i should have done) did i not know, that there are scholars of so quick parts, that in a few years become most excellent singers, and that there is no want of masters qualified to instruct disciples of the most promising genius; besides, it appeared to me an impropriety in this chapter on _divisions_ (in which the _beats_ and _close shake_ appear with greater lustre than any other grace) not to make mention of them. § . let the scholar not be suffered to sing _divisions_ with unevenness of time or motion; and let him be corrected if he marks them with the tongue, or with the chin, or any other grimace of the head or body. § . every master knows, that on the third and fifth vowel, the _divisions_ are the worst; but every one does not know, that in the best schools the second and fourth were not permitted, when these two vowels are pronounced close or united. § . there are many defects in the _divisions_, which it is necessary to know, in order to avoid them; for, besides that of the nose or the throat, and the others already mentioned, those are likewise displeasing which are neither mark'd nor gliding; for in that case they cannot be said to sing, but howl and roar. there are some still more ridiculous, who mark them above measure, and with force of voice, thinking (for example) to make a _division_ upon _a_, it appears as if they said _ha_, _ha_, _ha_, or _gha_, _gha_, _gha_; and the same upon the other vowels. the worst fault of all is singing them out of tune. § . the master should know, that though a good voice put forth with ease grows better, yet by too swift a motion in _divisions_ it becomes an indifferent one, and sometimes by the negligence of the master, to the prejudice of the scholar, it is changed into a very bad one. § . _divisions_ and _shakes_ in a _siciliana_ are faults, and _glidings_ and _draggs_ are beauties. § . the sole and entire beauty of the _division_ consists in its being perfectly in tune, mark'd, equal, distinct, and quick. § . _divisions_ have the like fate with the _shakes_; both equally delight in their place; but if not properly introduced, the too frequent repetition of them becomes tedious if not odious. § . after the scholar has made himself perfect in the _shake_ and the _divisions_, the master should let him read and pronounce the words, free from those gross and ridiculous errors of orthography, by which many deprive one word of its double consonant, and add one to another, in which it is single.[ ] § . after having corrected the pronunciation, let him take care that the words be uttered in such a manner, without any affectation that they be distinctly understood, and no one syllable be lost; for if they are not distinguished, the singer deprives the hearer of the greatest part of that delight which vocal musick conveys by means of the words. for, if the words are not heard so as to be understood, there will be no great difference between a human voice and a hautboy. this defect, tho' one of the greatest, is now-a-days more than common, to the greatest disgrace of the professors and the profession; and yet they ought to know, that the words only give the preference to a singer above an instrumental performer, admitting them to be of equal judgment and knowledge. let the modern master learn to make use of this advice, for never was it more necessary than at present. § . let him exercise the scholar to be very ready in joining the syllables to the notes, that he may never be at a loss in doing it. § . let him forbid the scholar to take breath in the middle of a word, because the dividing it in two is an error against nature; which must not be followed, if we would avoid being laugh'd at. in interrupted movements, or in long _divisions_, it is not so rigorously required, when the one or the other cannot be sung in one breath. anciently such cautions were not necessary, but for the learners of the first rudiments; now the abuse, having taken its rise in the modern schools, gathers strength, and is grown familiar with those who pretend to eminence. the master may correct this fault, in teaching the scholar to manage his respiration, that he may always be provided with more breath than is needful; and may avoid undertaking what, for want of it, he cannot go through with. § . let him shew, in all sorts of compositions, the proper place where to take breath, and without fatigue; because there are singers who give pain to the hearer, as if they had an asthma taking breath every moment with difficulty, as if they were breathing their last. § . let the master create some emulation in a scholar that is negligent, inciting him to study the lesson of his companion, which sometimes goes beyond genius; because, if instead of one lesson he hears two, and the competition does not discountenance him, he may perhaps come to learn his companion's lesson first, and then his own. § . let him never suffer the scholar to hold the musick-paper, in singing, before his face, both that the sound of the voice may not be obstructed, and to prevent him from being bashful. § . let him accustom the scholar to sing often in presence of persons of distinction, whether from birth, quality, or eminence in the profession, that by gradually losing his fear, he may acquire an assurance, but not a boldness. assurance leads to a fortune, and in a singer becomes a merit. on the contrary, the fearful is most unhappy; labouring under the difficulty of fetching breath, the voice is always trembling, and obliged to lose time at every note for fear of being choaked; he gives us pain, in not being able to shew his ability in publick; disgusts the hearer, and ruins the compositions in such a manner, that they are not known to be what they are. a timorous singer is unhappy, like a prodigal, who is miserably poor. § . let not the master neglect to shew him, how great their error is who make _shakes_ or _divisions_, or take breath on the _syncopated_ or _binding_ notes; and how much better effect the holding out the voice has. the compositions, instead of losing, acquire thereby greater beauty.[ ] § . let the master instruct him in the _forte_ and _piano_, but so as to use him more to the first than the second, it being easier to make one sing soft than loud. experience shews that the _piano_ is not to be trusted to, since it is prejudicial though pleasing; and if any one has a mind to lose his voice, let him try it. on this subject some are of opinion, that there is an artificial _piano_, that can make itself be heard as much as the _forte_; but that is only opinion, which is the mother of all errors. it is not art which is the cause that the _piano_ of a good singer is heard, but the profound silence and attention of the audience. for a proof of this, let any indifferent singer be silent on the stage for a quarter of a minute when he should sing, the audience, curious to know the reason of this unexpected pause, are hush'd in such a manner, that if in that instant he utter one word with a soft voice, it would be heard even by those at the greatest distance. § . let the master remember, that whosoever does not sing to the utmost rigour of time, deserves not the esteem of the judicious; therefore let him take care, there be no alteration or diminution in it, if he pretends to teach well, and to make an excellent scholar. § . though in certain schools, books of church-musick and of _madrigals_ lie buried in dust, a good master would wipe it off; for they are the most effectual means to make a scholar ready and sure. if singing was not for the most part performed by memory, as is customary in these days, i doubt whether certain professors could deserve the name of singers of the first rank.[ ] § . let him encourage the scholar if he improves; let him mortify him, without beating, for indolence; let him be more rigorous for negligences; nor let the scholar ever end a lesson without having profited something. § . an hour of application in a day is not sufficient, even for one of the quickest apprehension; the master therefore should consider how much more time is necessary for one that has not the same quickness, and how much he is obliged to consult the capacity of his scholar. from a mercenary teacher this necessary regard is not to be hoped for; expected by other scholars, tired with the fatigue, and solicited by his necessities, he thinks the month long; looks on his watch, and goes away. if he be but poorly paid for his teaching,--a god-b'wy to him. chap. v. _of_ recitative. _recitative_ is of three kinds, and ought to be taught in three different manners. § . the first, being used in churches, should be sung as becomes the sanctity of the place, which does not admit those wanton graces of a lighter stile; but requires some _messa di voce_, many _appoggiatura's_, and a noble majesty throughout. but the art of expressing it, is not to be learned, but from the affecting manner of those who devoutly dedicate their voices to the service of god. § . the second is theatrical, which being always accompanied with action by the singer, the master is obliged to teach the scholar a certain natural imitation, which cannot be beautiful, if not expressed with that decorum with which princes speak, or those who know how to speak to princes. § . the last, according to the opinion of the most judicious, touches the heart more than the others, and is called _recitativo di camera_. this requires a more peculiar skill, by reason of the words, which being, for the most part, adapted to move the most violent passions of the soul, oblige the master to give the scholar such a lively impression of them, that he may seem to be affected with them himself. the scholar having finished his studies, it will be but too[ ] easily discovered if he stands in need of this lesson. the vast delight, which the judicious feel, is owing to this particular excellence, which, without the help of the usual ornaments, produces all this pleasure from itself; and, let truth prevail, where passion speaks, all _shakes_, all _divisions_ and _graces_ ought to be silent, leaving it to the sole force of a beautiful expression to persuade. § . the church _recitative_ yields more liberty to the singer than the other two, particularly in the final cadence; provided he makes the advantage of it that a singer should do, and not as a player on the violin. § . the theatrical leaves it not in our election to make use of this art, lest we offend in the narrative, which ought to be natural, unless in a _soliloquy_, where it may be in the stile of chamber-musick. § . the third abstains from great part of the solemnity of the first, and contents itself with more of the second. § . the defects and unsufferable abuses which are heard in _recitatives_, and not known to those who commit them, are innumerable. i will take notice of several theatrical ones, that the master may correct them. § . there are some who sing _recitative_ on the stage like that of the church or chamber; some in a perpetual chanting, which is insufferable; some over-do it and make it a barking; some whisper it, and some sing it confusedly; some force out the last syllable, and some sink it; some sing it blust'ring, and some as if they were thinking of something else; some in a languishing manner; others in a hurry; some sing it through the teeth, and others with affectation; some do not pronounce the words, and others do not express them; some sing as if laughing, and some crying; some speak it, and some hiss it; some hallow, bellow, and sing it out of tune; and, together with their offences against nature, are guilty of the greatest fault, in thinking themselves above correction. § . the _modern_ masters run over with negligence their instructions in all sorts of _recitatives_, because in these days the study of expression is looked upon as unnecessary, or despised as _ancient_: and yet they must needs see every day, that besides the indispensable necessity of knowing how to sing them, these even teach how to act. if they will not believe it, let them observe, without flattering themselves, if among their pupils they can show an actor of equal merit with _cortona_ in the tender;[ ] of baron _balarini_ in the imperious; or other famous actors that at present appear, tho' i name them not; having determined in these observations, not to mention any that are living, in whatsoever degree of perfection they be, though i esteem them as they deserve. § . a master, that disregards _recitative_, probably does not understand the words, and then, how can he ever instruct a scholar in expression, which is the soul of vocal performance, and without which it is impossible to sing well? poor _gentlemen masters_ who direct and instruct beginners, without reflecting on the utter destruction you bring on the science, in undermining the principal foundations of it! if you know not that the _recitatives_, especially in the vulgar or known language, require those instructions relative to the force of the words, i would advise you to renounce the name, and office of _masters_, to those who can maintain them; your scholars will otherwise be made a sacrifice to ignorance, and not knowing how to distinguish the lively from the pathetick, or the vehement from the tender, it will be no wonder if you see them stupid on the stage, and senseless in a chamber. to speak my mind freely, yours and their faults are unpardonable; it is insufferable to be any longer tormented in the theatres with _recitatives_, sung in the stile of a choir of _capuchin_ friars. § . the reason, however, of not giving more expression to the _recitative_, in the manner of those called _antients_, does not always proceed from the incapacity of the master, or the negligence of the singer, but from the little knowledge of the _modern_ composers (we must except some of merit) who set it in so unnatural a taste, that it is not to be taught, acted or sung. in justification of the master and the singer let reason decide. to blame the composer, the same reason forbids me entering into a matter too high for my low understanding, and wisely bids me consider the little insight i can boast of, barely sufficient for a singer, or to write plain counterpoint. but when i consider i have undertaken in these observations, to procure diverse advantages to vocal performers, should i not speak of a composition, a subject so necessary, i should be guilty of a double fault. my doubts in this perplexity are resolved by the reflection, that _recitatives_ have no relation to counterpoint. if that be so, what professor knows not, that many theatrical _recitatives_ would be excellent if they were not confused one with another; if they could be learned by heart; if they were not deficient in respect of adapting the musick to the words; if they did not frighten those who sing them, and hear them, with unnatural skips; if they did not offend the ear and rules with the worst modulations; if they did not disgust a good taste with a perpetual sameness; if, with their cruel turns and changes of keys, they did not pierce one to the heart; and, finally, if the periods were not crippled by them who know neither point nor comma? i am astonished that such as these do not, for their improvement, endeavour to imitate the _recitatives_ of those authors, who represent in them a lively image of nature, by sounds which of themselves express the sense, as much as the very words. but to what purpose do i show this concern about it? can i expect that these reasons, with all their evidences, will be found good, when, even in regard to musick, reason itself is no more in the _mode_? custom has great power. she arbitrarily releases her followers from the observance of the true rules, and obliges them to no other study than that of the _ritornello's_, and will not let them uselessly employ their precious time in the application to _recitative_, which, according to her precepts, are the work of the pen, not of the mind. if it be negligence or ignorance, i know not; but i know very well, that the singers do not find their account in it. § . much more might still be[ ] said on the compositions of _recitative_ in general, by reason of that tedious chanting that offends the ear, with a thousand broken cadences in every opera, which custom has established, though they are without taste or art. to reform them all, would be worse than the disease; the introducing every time a final cadence would be wrong: but if in these two extremes a remedy were necessary i should think, that among an hundred broken cadences, ten of them, briefly terminated on points that conclude a period, would not be ill employed. the learned, however, do not declare themselves upon it, and from their silence i must hold myself condemned. § . i return to the master, only to put him in mind, that his duty is to teach musick; and if the scholar, before he gets out of his hands, does not sing readily and at sight, the innocent is injured without remedy from the guilty. § . if after these instructions, the master does really find himself capable of communicating to his scholar things of greater moment, and what may concern his farther progress, he ought immediately to initiate him in the study of church-airs, in which he must lay aside all the theatrical effeminate manner, and sing in a manly stile; for which purpose he will provide him with different natural and easy _motets_[ ] grand and genteel, mix'd with the lively and the pathetick, adapted to the ability he has discovered in him, and by frequent lessons make him become perfect in them with readiness and spirit. at the same time he must be careful that the words be well pronounced, and perfectly understood; that the _recitatives_ be expressed with strength, and supported without affectation; that in the airs he be not wanting in time, and in introducing some graces of good taste; and, above all, that the final cadences of the _motets_ be performed with divisions distinct, swift, and in tune. after this he will teach him that manner, the taste of _cantata's_ requires, in order, by this exercise, to discover the difference between one stile and another. if, after this, the master is satisfied with his scholar's improvement, yet let him not think to make him sing in publick, before he has the opinion of such persons, who know more of singing than of flattering; because, they not only will chuse such compositions proper to do him honour and credit, but also will correct in him those defects and errors, which out of oversight or ignorance the master had not perceived or corrected. § . if masters did consider, that from our first appearing in the face of the world, depends our acquiring fame and courage, they would not so blindly expose their pupils to the danger of falling at the first step. § . but if the master's knowledge extends no farther than the foregoing rules, then ought he in conscience to desist, and to recommend the scholar to better instructions. however, before the scholar arrives at this, it will not be quite unnecessary to discourse with him in the following chapters, and if his age permits him not to understand me, those, who have the care of him, may. chap. vi. _observations for a student._ before entering on the extensive and difficult study of the _florid_, or _figured song_, it is necessary to consult the scholar's genius; for if inclination opposes, it is impossible to force it, and when that incites, the scholar proceeds with ease and pleasure. § . supposing, then, that the scholar is earnestly desirous of becoming a master in so agreable a profession, and being fully instructed in these tiresome rudiments, besides many others that may have slipt my weak memory; after a strict care of his morals, he should give the rest of his attention to the study of singing in perfection, that by this means he may be so happy as to join the most noble qualities of the soul to the excellencies of his art. § . he that studies singing must consider that praise or disgrace depends very much on his voice which if he has a mind to preserve he must abstain from all manner of disorders, and all violent diversions. § . let him be able to read perfectly, that he may not be put to shame for so scandalous an ignorance. oh, how many are there, who had need to learn the alphabet! § . in case the master knows not how to correct the faults in pronunciation, let the scholar endeavour to learn the best by some other means; because the not being born[ ] in _tuscany_, will not excuse the singer's imperfection. § . let him likewise very carefully endeavour to correct all other faults that the negligence of his master may have passed over. § . with the study of musick, let him learn also at least the grammar, to understand the words he is to sing in churches, and to give the proper force to the expression in both languages. i believe i may be so bold to say, that divers professors do not even understand their own tongue, much less the _latin_.[ ] § . let him continually, by himself, use his voice to a velocity of motion, if he thinks to have a command over it, and that he may not go by the name of a pathetick singer. § . let him not omit frequently to put forth, and to stop, the voice, that it may always be at his command. § . let him repeat his lesson at home, till he knows it perfectly; and with a local memory let him retain it, to save his master the trouble of teaching, and himself of studying it over again. § . singing requires so strict an application, that one must study with the mind, when one cannot with the voice. § . the unwearied study of youth is sure to overcome all obstacles that oppose, though defects were suck'd in with our mother's milk. this opinion of mine is subject to strong objections; however, experience will defend it, provided he corrects himself in time. but if he delays it, the older he grows the more his faults will increase. § . let him hear as much as he can the most celebrated singers, and likewise the most excellent instrumental performers; because, from the attention in hearing them, one reaps more advantage than from any instruction whatsoever. § . let him endeavour to copy from both, that he may insensibly, by the study of others, get a good taste. this advice, though extremely useful to a student, is notwithstanding infinitely prejudicial to a singer, as i shall shew in its proper place[ ]. § . let him often sing the most agreable compositions of the best authors, and accustom the ear to that which pleases. i'd have a student know, that by the abovementioned imitations, and by the idea of good compositions, the taste in time becomes art, and art nature. § . let him learn to accompany himself, if he is ambitious of singing well. the harpsichord is a great incitement to study, and by it we continually improve in our knowledge. the evident advantage arising to the singer from that lovely instrument, makes it superfluous to say more on that head. moreover, it often happens to one who cannot play, that without the help of another he cannot be heard, and is thereby to his shame obliged to deny the commands of those whom it would be to his advantage to obey. § . till a singer pleases himself, it is certain he cannot please others. therefore consider, if some professors of no small skill have not this pleasure for want of sufficient application, what must the scholar do? study,--and study again, and not be satisfied. § . i am almost of opinion, that all study and endeavours to sing are infallibly vain, if not accompanied with some little knowledge of counterpoint. one, who knows how to compose, can account for what he does, and he, who has not the same light, works in the dark, not knowing how to sing without committing errors. the most famous _ancients_ know the intrinsick value of this precept from the effects. and a good scholar ought to imitate them, without considering whether this lesson be according to the _mode_ or not for though, in these days, one now and then hears admirable performances, proceeding from a natural taste, yet they are all done by chance; but where that taste is wanting, if they are not execrable, at least they will be very bad: for fortune not being always at their command, they cannot be sure to agree, neither with time nor harmony. this knowledge, although requisite, i would not however advise a scholar to give himself up to an intense application, it being certain, i should teach him the readiest way to lose his voice, but i exhort him only to learn the principal rules, that he may not be quite in the dark.[ ] § . to study much, and preserve a voice in its full beauty, are two things almost incompatible; there is between them such a sort of amity, as cannot last without being prejudicial to the one or the other. however, if one reflects, that perfection in a voice is a gift of nature, and in art a painful acquisition, it will indeed be allowed, that this latter excels in merit, and more deserves our praise. § . whoever studies, let him look for what is most excellent, and let him look for it wherever it is, without troubling himself whether it be in the stile of fifteen or twenty years ago, or in that of these days; for all ages have their good and bad productions. it is enough to find out the best, and profit by them. § . to my irreparable misfortune, i am old; but were i young, i would imitate as much as possibly i could the _cantabile_ of those who are branded with the opprobrious name of _ancients_; and the _allegro_ of those who enjoy the delightful appellation of _moderns_. though my wish is vain as to myself, it will be of use to a prudent scholar, who is desirous to be expert in both manners, which is the only way to arrive at perfection; but if one was to chuse, i should freely, without fear of being tax'd with partiality, advise him to attach himself to the taste of the first.[ ] § . each manner of singing hath a different degree of eminence; the nervous and strong is distinguished from the puerile and weak, as is the noble from the vulgar. § . a student must not hope for applause, if he has not an utter abhorrence of ignorance. § . whoever does not aspire to the first rank, begins already to give up the second, and by little and little will rest contented with the lowest. § . if, out of a particular indulgence to the sex, so many female singers have the graces set down in writing, one that studies to become a good singer should not follow the example; whoever accustoms himself to have things put in his mouth, will have no invention, and becomes a slave to his memory. § . if the scholar should have any defects, of the nose, the throat, or of the ear, let him never sing but when the master is by, or somebody that understands the profession, in order to correct him, otherwise he will get an ill habit, past all remedy. § . when he studies his lesson at home, let him sometimes sing before a looking-glass, not to be enamoured with his own person, but to avoid those convulsive motions of the body, or of the face (for so i call the grimaces of an affected singer) which, when once they have took footing, never leave him. § . the best time for study is with the rising of the sun; but those, who are obliged to study, must employ all their time which can be spared from their other necessary affairs. § . after a long exercise, and the attainment of a true intonation, of a _messa di voce_, of _shakes_, of _divisions_, and _recitative_ well expressed, if the scholar perceives that his master cannot teach him all the perfection of execution required in the more refined art of singing the airs, or if he cannot always be by his side, then will he begin to be sensible of the need he has of that study, in which the best singer in the world is still a learner, and must be his own master. supposing this reflection just, i advise him for his first insight, to read the following chapter, in order thereby to reap greater advantage from those that can sing the _airs_, and teach to sing them. chap. vii. _of_ airs. if whoever introduced the custom of repeating the first part of the _air_ (which is called _da capo_) did it out of a motive to show the capacity of the singer, in varying the repetition, the invention cannot be blam'd by lovers of musick; though in respect of the words it is sometimes an impropriety.[ ] § . by the _ancients_ beforementioned, _airs_ were sung in three different manners; for the theatre, the stile was lively and various; for the chamber, delicate and finish'd; and for the church, moving and grave. this difference, to very many _moderns_, is quite unknown. § . a singer is under the greatest obligation to the study of the _airs_; for by them he gains or loses his reputation. to the acquiring this valuable, art, a few verbal lessons cannot suffice; nor would it be of any great profit to the scholar, to have a great number of _airs_, in which a thousand of the most exquisite passages of different sorts were written down: for they would not serve for all purposes, and there would always be wanting that spirit which accompanies extempore performances, and is preferable to all servile imitations. all (i think) that can be said, is to recommend to him an attentive observation of the art, with which the best singers regulate themselves to the bass, whereby he will become acquainted with their perfections, and improve by them. in order to make his observations with the greater exactness, let him follow the example of a friend of mine, who never went to an opera without a copy of all the songs, and, observing the finest graces, confin'd to the most exact time of the movement of the bass, he made thereby a great progress.[ ] § . among the things worthy of consideration, the first to be taken notice of, is the manner in which all _airs_ divided into three parts are to be sung. in the first they require nothing but the simplest ornaments, of a good taste and few, that the composition may remain simple, plain, and pure; in the second they expect, that to this purity some artful graces[ ] be added, by which the judicious may hear, that the ability of the singer is greater; and, in, repeating the _air_, he that does not vary it for the better, is no great master. § . let a student therefore accustom himself to repeat them always differently, for, if i mistake not, one that abounds in invention, though a moderate singer, deserves much more esteem, than a better who is barren of it; for this last pleases the connoisseurs but for once, whereas the other, if he does not surprise by the rareness of his productions, will at least gratify your attention with variety.[ ] § . the most celebrated among the _ancients_ piqued themselves in varying every night their songs in the opera's, not only the _pathetick_, but also the _allegro_. the student, who is not well grounded, cannot undertake this important task. § . without varying the _airs_, the knowledge of the singers could never be discovered; but from the nature and quality of the variations, it will be easily discerned in two of the greatest singers which is the best. § . returning from this digression to the abovementioned, repeating the first part of the _air_ with variation, the scholar will therein find out the rules for gracing, and introducing beauties of his own invention: these will teach him, that time, taste, and skill, are sometimes of but small advantage to one who is not ready at _extempore_ embellishments; but they should not allow, that a superfluity of them should prejudice the composition, and confound the ear.[ ] § . let a scholar provide himself with a variety of graces and embellishments, and then let him make use of them with judgment; for if he observes, he will find that the most celebrated singers never make a parade of their talent in a few songs; well knowing, that if singers expose to the publick all they have in their shops, they are near becoming bankrupts. § . in the study of _airs_, as i have before said, one cannot take pains enough; for, though certain things of small effect may be omitted, yet how can the art be called perfect if the finishing is wanted. § . in _airs_ accompanied only a bass, the application of him who studies graces is only subject to time, and to the bass; but in those, that are accompanied with more instruments, the singer must be also attentive to their movement, in order to avoid the errors committed by those who are ignorant of the contrivance of such accompaniments. § . to prevent several false steps in singing the _airs_, i would strongly inculcate to a student, first, never to give over practising in private, till he is secure of committing no error in publick; and next, that at the first rehearsal the _airs_ be sung without any other ornaments than those which are very natural; but with a strict attention, to examine at the same time in his mind, where the artificial ones may be brought in with propriety in the second; and so from one rehearsal to another, always varying for the better, he will by degrees become a great singer. § . the most necessary study for singing _airs_ in perfection, and what is more difficult than any other, is to seek for what is easy and natural, as well as of beautiful inventions. one who has the good fortune to unite such two rare talents, with an agreeable _putting forth_ of the voice, is a very happy singer. § . let him, who studies under the disadvantage of an ungrateful genius, remember for his comfort, that singing in tune, expression, _messa di voce_, the _appoggiatura's_, _shakes_, _divisions_, and accompanying himself, are the principal qualifications; and no such insuperable difficulties, but what may be overcome. i know, they are not sufficient to enable one to sing in perfection; and that it would be weakness to content one's self with only singing tolerably well; but embellishments must be called in to their aid, which seldom refuse the call, and sometimes come unsought. study will do the business. § . let him avoid all those abuses which have overspread and established themselves in the _airs_, if he will preserve musick in its chastity. § . not only a scholar, but every singer ought to forbear _caricatura's_, or mimicking others, from the very bad consequences that attend them. to make others laugh, hardly gains any one esteem, but certainly gives offence; for no-body likes to appear ridiculous or ignorant. this mimicking arises for the most part from a concealed ambition to shew their own merit, at another's expence; not without a mixture of envy and spight. examples shew us but too plainly the great injury they are apt to do, and that it well deserves reproof; for mimickry has ruin'd more than one singer. § . i cannot sufficiently recommend to a student the exact keeping of time; and if i repeat the same in more than one place, there is more than one occasion that moves me to it; because, even among the professors of the first rank there are few, but what are almost insensibly deceived into an irregularity, or hastening of time, and often of both; which though in the beginning is hardly perceptible, yet in the progress of the _air_ becomes more and more so, and at the last the variation, and the error is discovered. § . if i do not advise a student to imitate several of the _moderns_ in their manner of singing _airs_, it is from their neglect of keeping time, which ought to be inviolable, and not sacrificed to their beloved passages and divisions. § . the presumption of some singers is not to be borne with, who expect that an whole _orchestre_ should stop in the midst of a well-regulated movement, to wait for their ill-grounded caprices, learned by heart, carried from one theatre to another, and perhaps stolen from some applauded female singer, who had better luck than skill, and whose errors were excused in regard to her sex.----softly, softly with your criticism, says one; this, if you do not know it, is called singing after the _mode_----singing after the _mode_?----i say, you are mistaken. the stopping in the _airs_ at every second and fourth, and on all the sevenths and sixths of the bass, was a bad practice of the ancient masters, disapproved fifty years ago by _rivani_, called _ciecolino_,[ ] who with invincible reasons shewed the proper places for embellishments, without begging pauses. this percept was approved by several eminent persons, among whom was signer _pistochi_,[ ] the most famous of our, and all preceding times, who has made himself immortal, by shewing the way of introducing graces without transgressing against time. this example alone, which is worth a thousand (o my rever'd _moderns_!) should be sufficient to undeceive you. but if this does not satisfy you, i will add, that _sifacio_[ ] with his mellifluous voice embrac'd this rule; that _buzzolini_[ ] of incomparable judgment highly esteemed it: after them _luigino_[ ] with his soft and amorous stile followed their steps; likewise _signora boschi_[ ] who, to the glory of her sex, has made it appear, that women, who study, may instruct even men of some note. that _signora lotti_,[ ] strictly keeping to the same rules, with a penetrating sweetness of voice, gained the hearts of all her hearers. if persons of this rank, and others at present celebrated all over _europe_, whom i forbear to name; if all these have not authority enough to convince you, that you have no right to alter the time by making pauses, consider at least, that by this error in respect of time, you often fall into a greater, which is, that the voice remains unaccompanied, and deprived of harmony; and thereby becomes flat and tiresome to the best judges. you will perhaps say in excuse, that few auditors have this discernment, and that there are numbers of the others, who blindly applaud every thing that has an appearance of novelty. but whose fault is this? an audience that applauds what is blameable, cannot justify your faults by their ignorance; it is your part to set them right, and, laying aside your ill-grounded practice, you should own, that the liberties you take are against reason, and an insult upon all those instrumental performers that are waiting for you, who are upon a level with you, and ought to be subservient only to the time. in short, i would have you reflect, that the abovementioned precept will always be of advantage to you; for though under the neglecting of it, you have a chance to gain applause of the ignorant only; by observing it, you will justly merit that of the judicious, and the applause will become universal. § . besides the errors in keeping time, there are other reasons, why a student should not imitate the _modern_ gentlemen in singing _airs_, since it plainly appears that all their application now is to divide and subdivide in such a manner, that it is impossible to understand either words, thoughts, or modulation, or to distinguish one _air_ from another, they singing them all so much alike, that, in hearing of one, you hear a thousand.----and must the _mode_ triumph? it was thought, not many years since, that in an opera, one rumbling _air_, full of divisions was sufficient for the most gurgling singer to spend his fire[ ]; but the singers of the present time are not of that mind, but rather, as if they were not satisfied with transforming them all with a horrible metamorphosis into so many divisions, they, like racers, run full speed, with redoubled violence to their final cadences, to make reparation for the time they think they have lost during the course of the _air_. in the following chapter, on the tormented and tortured cadences, we shall shortly see the good taste of the _mode_; in the mean while i return to the abuses and defects in _airs_. § . i cannot positively tell, who that _modern_ composer, or that ungrateful singer was, that had the heart to banish the delightful, soothing, _pathetick_ from _airs_, as if no longer worthy of their commands, after having done them so long and pleasing service. whoever he was, it is certain, he has deprived the profession of its most valuable excellence. ask all the musicians in general, what their thoughts are of the _pathetick_, they all agree in the same opinion, (a thing that seldom happens) and answer, that the _pathetick_ is what is most delicious to the ear, what most sweetly affects the soul, and is the strongest basis of harmony. and must we be deprived of these charms, without knowing the reason why? oh! i understand you: i ought not to ask the masters, but the audience, those capricious protectors of the _mode_, that cannot endure this; and herein lies my mistake. alas! the _mode_ and the multitude flow like torrents, which, when at their height, having spent their violence, quickly disappear. the mischief is in the spring itself; the fault is in the singers. they praise the _pathetick_, yet sing the _allegro_. he must want common sense that does not see through them. they know the first to be the most excellent, but they lay it aside, knowing it to be the most difficult. § . in former times divers _airs_ were heard in the theatre in this delightful manner, preceded and accompanied with harmonious and well-modulated instruments, that ravished the senses of those who comprehended the contrivance and the melody; and if sung by one of those five or six eminent persons abovementioned, it was then impossible for a human soul, not to melt into tenderness and tears from the violent motion of the affections. oh! powerful proof to confound the idoliz'd _mode_! are there in these times any, who are moved with tenderness, or sorrow?----no, (say all the auditors) no; for, the continual singing of the _moderns_ in the _allegro_ stile, though when in perfection that deserves admiration, yet touches very slightly one that hath a delicate ear. the taste of the _ancients_ was a mixture of the _lively_ and the _cantabile_ the variety of which could not fail giving delight; but the _moderns_ are so pre-possessed with taste in _mode_, that, rather than comply with the former, they are contented to lose the greatest part of its beauty. the study of the _pathetick_ was the darling of the former; and application to the most difficult divisions is the only drift of the latter. _those_ perform'd with more judgment; and _these_ execute with greater boldness. but since i have presum'd to compare the most celebrated singers in both stiles, pardon me if i conclude with saying, that the _moderns_ are arrived at the highest degree of perfection in singing to the _ear_; and that the _ancients_ are inimitable in singing to the _heart_. § . however, it ought not to be denied, but that the best singers of these times have in some particulars refined the preceding taste, with some productions worthy to be imitated; and as an evident mark of esteem, we must publicly own, that if they were but a little more friends to the _pathetick_ and the _expressive_, and a little less to the _divisions_, they might boast of having brought the art to the highest degree of perfection. § . it may also possibly be, that the extravagant ideas in the present compositions, have deprived the abovementioned singers of the opportunity of shewing their ability in the _cantabile_; in as much as the _airs_ at present in vogue go whip and spur with such violent motions, as take away their breath, far from giving them an opportunity of shewing the exquisiteness of their taste. but, good god! since there are so many _modern_ composers, among whom are some of genius equal, and perhaps greater than the best _ancients_, for what reason or motive do they always exclude from their compositions, the so-much-longed-for _adagio_? can its gentle nature ever be guilty of a crime? if it cannot gallop with the _airs_ that are always running post, why not reserve it for those that require repose, or at least for a compassionate one, which is to assist an unfortunate hero, when he is to shed tears, or die on the stage?----no, sir, no; the grand _mode_ demands that he be quick, and ready to burst himself in his lamentations, and weep with liveliness. but what can one say? the resentment of the _modern_ taste is not appeased with the sacrifice of the _pathetick_ and the _adagio_ only, two inseparable friends, but goes so far, as to prescribe those _airs_, as confederates, that have not the _sharp_ third. can any thing be more absurd? _gentlemen composers_, (i do not speak to the eminent, but with all due respect) musick in my time has chang'd its stile three times: the first which pleased on the stage, and in the chamber, was that of _pier. simone_[ ], and of _stradella_[ ]; the second is of the best that now living[ ]; and i leave others to judge whether they are _modern_. but of your stile, which is not quite established yet in _italy_, and which has yet gained no credit at all beyond the _alps_, those that come after us will soon give their opinion; for _modes_ last not long. but if the profession is to continue, and end with the world, either you yourselves will see your mistake, or your successors will reform it. wou'd you know how? by banishing the abuses, and recalling the first, second, and third _mood_[ ], to relieve the fifth, sixth, and eighth, which are quite jaded. they will revive the fourth and seventh now dead to you, and buried in churches, for the final closes. to oblige the taste of the singers and the hearers, the _allegro_ will now and then be mixed with the _pathetick_. the _airs_ will not always be drowned with the indiscretion of the instruments, that hide the artful delicacy of the _piano_, and the soft voices, nay, even all voices which will not bawl: they will no longer bear being teased with _unisons_[ ], the invention of ignorance, to hide from the vulgar the insufficiency and inability of many men and women singers: they will recover the instrumental harmony now lost: they will compose more for the voice than the instruments: the part for the voice will no more have the mortification to resign its place to the violins: the _soprano's_ and _contr'alto's_ will no more sing the _airs_ in the manner of the bass, in spight of a thousand _octaves_: and, finally, their _airs_ will be more affecting, and less alike; more studied, and less painful to the singer; and so much the more grand, as they are remote from the vulgar. but, methinks, i hear it said, that the theatrical licence is great, and that the _mode_ pleases, and that i grow too bold. and may i not reply, that the abuse is greater, that the invention is pernicious, and that my opinion is not singular. am i the only professor who knows that the best compositions are the cause of singing well, and the worst very prejudicial? have we not more than once heard that the quality of the compositions has been capable, with a few songs, of establishing the reputation of a middling singer, and destroying that of one who had acquired one by merit? that musick, which is composed by one of judgment and taste, instructs the scholar, perfects the skilful, and delights the hearer. but since we have opened the ball, let us dance. § . he that first introduced musick on the stage, probably thought to lead her to a triumph, and raise her to a throne. but who would ever have imagined, that in the short course of a few years, she should be reduced to the fatal circumstance of seeing her own tragedy? ye pompous fabricks of the theatres! we should look upon you with horror, being raised from the ruins of harmony: you are the origin of the abuses, and of the errors: from you is derived the _modern_ stile and the multitude of ballad-makers: you are the only occasion of the scarcity of judicious and well-grounded professors, who justly deserve the title of chapel-master[ ]; since the poor counterpoint[ ] has been condemned, in this corrupted age, to beg for a piece of bread in churches, whilst the ignorance of many exults on the stage, the most part of the composers have been prompted from avarice, or indigence, to abandon in such manner the true study, that one may foresee (if not succoured by those few, that still gloriously sustain its dearest precepts) musick, after having lost the name of science, and a companion of philosophy, will run the risque of being reputed unworthy to enter into the sacred temples, from the scandal given there, by their jiggs, minuets, and furlana's[ ]; and, in fact, where the taste is so deprav'd, what would make the difference between the church-musick, and the theatrical, if money was received at the church doors? § . i know that the world honours with just applause some, tho' few masters, intelligent in both stiles, to whom i direct the students in order to their singing well; and if i confine the masters to so small a number, i do beg pardon of those who should be comprehended therein; hoping easily to obtain it, because an involuntary error does not offend, and an eminent person knows no other envy but virtuous emulation. as for the ignorant, who for the most part are not used to indulge any, but rather despise and hate every thing they do not comprehend, they will be the persons from whom i am to expect no quarter. § . to my misfortune, i asked one of this sort, from whom he had learned the _counterpoint_? he answered immediately from the instrument, (_i.e._, the harpsichord)--very well. i asked farther, in what _tone_ have you composed the introduction of your opera?----what _tone_! what _tone_! (breaking in upon me abruptly) with what musty questions are you going to disturb my brains? one may easily perceive from what school you come. the _moderns_, if you do not know it, acknowledge no other _tone_ but one[ ]; they laugh, with reason, at the silly opinion of those who imagine there are two, as well as at those who maintain, that their being divided into _authentick_ and _plagal_, they become eight, (and more if there were need) and prudently leave it to everybody's pleasure to compose as they like best. the world in your time was asleep, and let it not displease you, if our merry and brisk manner has awakened it with a gayety so pleasing to the heart, that it incites one to dance. i would have you likewise be lively before you die, and, abandoning your uncouth ideas, make it appear, that old age can be pleased with the productions of youth; otherwise you will find, that you will be condemned by your own words, that ignorance hates all that is excellent. the polite arts have advanced continually in refinement, and if the rest were to give me the lie, musick would defend me sword in hand; for she cannot arrive at a higher pitch. awake therefore, and, if you are not quite out of your senses, hearken to me; and you will acknowledge that i speak candidly to you; and for a proof be it known to you---- § . that our delicious stile has been invented to hide with the fine name of _modern_ the too difficult rules of the _counterpoint_, cannot be denied. § . that there is an inviolable rule amongst us, to banish for ever the _pathetick_, is very true; because we will have no melancholy. § . but, that we should be told by the old _bashaws_, that we strive who can produce most extravagant absurdities never heard before, and that we brag to be the inventors of them ourselves, are the malign reflections of those who see us exalted. let envy burst. you see, that the general esteem which we have acquired, gives it for us; and if a musician is not of our tribe, he will find no patron or admirer. but since we are now speaking in confidence and with sincerity, who can sing or compose well, without our approbation? let them have ever so much merit (you know it) we do not want means to ruin him; even a few syllables will suffice: it is only saying, he is an _ancient_. § . tell me, i beseech you, who, without us, could have brought musick to the height of happiness, with no greater difficulty than taking from the _airs_ that tiresome emulation of the first and second violin, and of the tenor? is there any that ever durst usurp the glory of it? we, we are those, who by our ingenuity have raised her to this degree of sublimity, in taking also from her that noisy murmuring of the fundamental basses, in such manner,----(mark me well, and learn) that if in an _orchestre_ there were an hundred violins, we are capable of composing in such a manner, that all and every one shall play the very _air_ which the voice sings. what say you to that? can you have the face to find fault with us? § . our most lovely method, that obliges none of us to the painful study of the rules; which does not disquiet the mind with the anxiety of speculation, nor delude us with the study of reducing them into practice; that does not prejudice the health; that enchants the ear _à la mode_; that finds those who love it, who prize it, and who pay for it the weight in gold; and dare you to criticise upon it? § . what shall we say of the obscure and tedious compositions of those whom you celebrate as the top of the universe, tho' your opinion goes for nothing? don't you perceive that those old-fashioned crabbednesses are disgustful? we should be great fools to grow pale, and become paralytick in studying and finding out in the scores, the harmony, the _fugues_, their _reverses_, the _double counterpoint_, the multiplication of subjects, to contract them closer, to make _canons_, and such other dry stuff, that are no more in _mode_, and (what is worse) are of little esteem, and less profit. what say you now to this, _master critick_? have you comprehended me?----yes, sir. well, what answer do you make me?----none. § . really, i am astonished, o beloved singers, at the profound lethargy in which you remain, and which is so much to your disadvantage. 'tis you that ought to awaken, for now is the time, and tell the composers of this stamp, that your desire is to sing, and not to dance. chap. viii. _of_ cadences.[ ] the _cadences_, that terminate the _airs_, are of two sorts. the composers call the one _superior_, and the other _inferior_. to make myself better understood by a scholar, i mean, if a _cadence_ were in _c_ natural, the notes of the first would be _la, sol, fa;_ and those of the second _fa, mi, fa_. in _airs_ for a single voice, or in _recitatives_, a singer may chuse which of these _closes_ or _cadences_ pleases him best; but if in concert with other voices, or accompanied with instruments, he must not change the superior for the inferior, nor this with the other.[ ] § . it would be superfluous to speak of the broken _cadences_, they being become familiar even to those who are not professors of musick, and which serve at most but in _recitatives_.[ ] § . as for those _cadences_ that fall a fifth, they were never composed in the old stile for a _soprano_, in an _air_ for a single voice, or with instruments, unless the imitation of some words had obliged the composer thereto. yet these, having no other merit, but of being the easiest of all, as well for the composer as for the singer, are at present the most prevailing.[ ] § . in the chapter on _airs_, i have exhorted the student to avoid that torrent of _passages_ and _divisions_, so much in the _mode_, and did engage myself also, to give my weak sentiments on the _cadences_ that are now current; and i am now ready: but, however, with the usual protestation of submitting them, with all my other opinions, to the tribunal of the judicious, and those of taste, from whence there is no appeal; that they, as sovereign judges of the profession, may condemn the abuses of the _modern cadences_, or the errors of my opinion. § . every _air_ has (at least) three _cadences_, that are all three final. generally speaking, the study of the singers of the present times consists in terminating the _cadence_ of the first part with an overflowing of _passages_ and _divisions_ at pleasure, and the _orchestre_ waits; in that of the second[ ] the dose is encreased, and the _orchestre_ grows tired; but on the last _cadence_, the throat is set a going, like a weather-cock in a whirlwind, and the _orchestre_ yawns. but why must the world be thus continually deafened with so many _divisions_? i must (with your leave, _gentlemen moderns_) say in favour of the profession, that good taste does not consist in a continual velocity of the voice, which goes thus rambling on, without a guide, and without foundation; but rather, in the _cantabile_, in the putting forth the voice agreeably, in _appoggiatura's_, in art, and in the true notion of graces, going from one note to another with singular and unexpected surprizes, and stealing the time exactly on the true _motion_ of the bass. these are the principal and indispensible qualities which are most essential to the singing well, and which no musical ear can find in your capricious _cadences_. i must still add, that very _anciently_ the stile of the singers was insupportable, (as i have been informed by the master who taught me to _sol-fa_) by reason of the number of _passages_ and _divisions_ in their _cadences_, that never were at an end, as they are now; and that they were always the same, just as they are now. they became at last so odious, that, as a nusance to the sense of hearing, they were banished without so much as attempting their correction. thus will it also happen to these, at the first example given by a singer whose credit is established, and who will not be seduced by a vain popular applause. this reformation the succeeding professors of eminence prescribed to themselves as a law, which perhaps would not have been abolished, were they in a condition to be heard; but the opulency of some, loss of the voice, age and death of others, has deprived the living from hearing what was truly worthy our admiration in singing. now the singers laugh at the reformers, and their reformation of the _passages_ in the _cadences_; and on the contrary, having recalled them from their banishment, and brought them on the stage, with some little _caricatura_ to boot, they impose them on the ignorant for rare inventions, and gain themselves immense sums; it giving them no concern that they have been abhorr'd and detested for fifty or sixty years, or for an hundred ages. but who can blame them? however, if reason should make this demand of them, with what unjust pretence can you usurp the name of _moderns_, if you sing in a most _ancient_ stile? perhaps, you think that these overflowings of your throat are what procure you riches and praises? undeceive yourselves, and thank the great number of theatres, the scarcity of excellent performers, and the stupidity of your auditors. what could they answer? i know not. but let us call them to a stricter account. § . _gentlemen moderns_, can you possibly deny, but that you laugh among yourselves, when you have recourse to your long-strung _passages_ in the _cadences_, to go a begging for applause from the blind ignorant? you call this trick by the name of an _alms_, begging for charity as it were for those _e viva's_, which, you very well know, you do not deserve from justice. and in return you laugh at your admirers, tho' they have not hands, feet, nor voice enough to applaud you. is this justice? is this gratitude?----oh! if they ever should find you out! my beloved singers, tho' the abuses of your _cadences_ are of use to you, they are much more prejudicial to the profession, and are the greatest faults you can commit; because at the same time you know yourselves to be in the wrong. for your own sakes undeceive the world, and employ the rare talent you are endowed with on things that are worthy of you. in the mean while i will return with more courage to my opinions. § . i should be very desirous to[ ] know, on what foundation certain _moderns_ of reputation, and great name, do on the superior _cadences_ always make the _shake_ on the third in _alt_ to the final note; since the _shake_ (which ought to be resolved) cannot be so in this case, by reason of that very third, which being the sixth of the bass hinders it, and the _cadence_ remains without a resolution. if they should go so far as to imagine, that the best rules depended on the _mode_, i should notwithstanding think, they might sometimes appeal to the ear, to know if that was satisfied with a _shake_ beaten with the seventh and the sixth on a bass which makes the _cadence_; and i am sure it would answer. no. from the rules of the _ancients_ we learn, that the _shake_ is to be prepared on the sixth of the bass, that after it the fifth may be heard, for that is its proper place. § . some others of the same rank make their _cadences_ in the manner of the basses, which is, in falling a fifth, with a passage of swift notes descending gradually, supposing that by this means they cover the _octaves_, which, tho' disguised, will still appear. § . i hold it also for certain, that no professor of the first rank, in any _cadence_ whatsoever, can be allowed to make _shakes_, or _divisions_, on the last syllables but one of these words,--_confonderò_--_amerò_, &c. for they are ornaments that do not suit on those syllables which are short, but do well on the antecedent.[ ] § . very many of the second class end the inferior _cadences_ in the _french_ manner without a _shake_[ ], either for want of ability to make one, or from its being easy to copy them, or from their desire of finding out something that may in appearance support the name of _modern_. but in fact they are mistaken; for the _french_ do not leave out the _shake_ on the inferior _cadences_, except in the _pathetick airs_; and our _italians_, who are used to over-do the _mode_, exclude it every where, tho' in the _allegro_ the _shake_ is absolutely necessary. i know, that a good singer may with reason abstain from the _shake_ in the _cantabile_; however, it should be rarely; for if one of those _cadences_ be tolerable without that pleasing grace, it is absolutely impossible not to be tired at length, with a number one after another that die suddenly. § . i find that all the _moderns_ (let them be friends or foes to the _shake_) in the inferior _cadences_ beforementioned go with an _appoggiatura_ to the final note, on the penultimate syllable of a word; and this likewise is a defect, it appearing to me, that on such occasions the _appoggiatura_ is not pleasing but on the last syllable, after the manner of the _ancients_, or of those who know how to sing.[ ] § . if, in the inferior _cadences_, the best singers of these days think they are not in the wrong in making you hear the final note before the bass[ ], they deceive themselves grossly; for it is a very great error, hurts the ear, and is against the rules; and becomes doubly so, going (as they do) to the same note with an _appoggiatura_, the which either ascending or descending, if not after the bass[ ], is always very bad. § . and is it not worst of all, to torment the hearers with a thousand _cadences_ all in the same manner? from whence proceeds this sterility, since every professor knows, that the surest way of gaining esteem in singing is a variety in the repetition? § . if among all the _cadences_ in the _airs_, the last allows a moderate liberty to the singer, to distinguish the end of them, the abuse of it is insufferable. but it grows abomable, when the singer persists with his tiresome warbling, nauseating the judicious, who suffer the more, because they know that the composers leave generally in every _final cadence_ some note, sufficient to make a discreet embellishment; without seeking for it out of time, without taste, without art, and without judgment.[ ] § . i am still more surprised when i reflect, that the _modern_ stile, after having exposed all the _cadences_ of the theatrical _airs_ to the martyrdom of a perpetual motion, will likewise have the cruelty to condemn to the same punishment not those in the _cantata's_ only, but also the _cadences_ of their _recitatives_. do these singers pretend, by their not distinguishing the chamber-musick from the immoderate _gargling_ of the stage, to expect the vulgar _e viva's_ in the cabinet of princes? § . let a sensible student avoid this example, and with this example the abuses, the defects, and every other thing that is mean and common, as well in the _cadences_ as elsewhere. § . if, the inventing particular _cadences_ without injuring the time, has been one of the worthy employments of the _ancients_ (so call'd) let a student revive the use of it; endeavouring to imitate them in their skill of somewhat anticipating the time; and remember, that those, who understand the art of gracing, do not wait to admire the beauty of it in a silence of the bass. § . many and many other errors are heard in the _cadences_ that were _antique_, and which are now become _modern_; they were ridiculous then, and are so now; therefore considering, that to change the stile is not always to improve it, i may fairly conclude, that what is bad is to be corrected by study, and not by the _mode_. § . now let us for a while leave at rest the opinions of the aforesaid ancients, and the supposed _moderns_, to take notice what improvement the scholar has made, since he is desirous of being heard. well then, let him attend, before we part with him, to instructions of more weight, that he may at least deserve the name of a good singer, though he may not arrive at that of an eminent one. chap. ix. _observations for a singer._[ ] behold the singer now appearing in publick, from the effects of his application to the study of the foregoing lessons. but to what purpose does he appear? whoever, in the great theatre of the world, does not distinguish himself, makes but a very insignificant figure. § . from the cold indifference perceived in many singers, one would believe that the science of musick implored their favour, to be received by them as their most humble servant. § . if too many did not persuade themselves that they had studied sufficiently, there would not be such a scarcity of the best, nor such a swarm of the worst. these, because they can sing by heart three or four _kyrie's_[ ], think they are arrived at the _non plus ultra_; but if you give them a _cantata_ to sing, that is even easy, and fairly written, they, instead of complying as they ought, will tell you with an impudent face, that persons of their degree are not obliged to sing in the vulgar tongue at sight. and who can forbear laughing? for a musician knowing that the words, let them be either _latin_ or _italian_, do not change the form of the notes, must immediately conclude, that this pert answer of the great man proceeds from his not being able to sing at sight, or from his not knowing how to read; and he judges right. § . there are an infinite number[ ] of others, who wish and sigh for the moment that eases them from the painful fatigue of their first studies, hoping to have a chance to make one in the crowd of the second rate; and stumbling by good luck on something that gives them bread, they immediately make a legg to musick and its study, not caring whether the world knows they are, or are not among the living. these do not consider that _mediocrity_ in a singer means _ignorance_. § . there are also several who study nothing but the defects, and are endow'd with a marvelous aptness to learn them all, having so happy a memory as never to forget them. their genius is so inclined to the bad, that if by gift of nature they had the best of voices, they would be discontented if they could not find some means to make it the worst. § . one of a better spirit will endeavour to keep better company. he will be sensible of the necessity of farther discoveries, of farther instructions, and even of another master, of whom, besides the art of singing, he would be glad to learn how to behave himself with good breeding. this, added to the merit acquired by his singing, may give him hopes of the favour of princes, and of an universal esteem. § . if he aims at the character of a young man of wit and judgment, let him not be vulgar or too bold. § . let him shun low and disreputable company, but, above all, such as abandon themselves to scandalous liberties. § . that professor ought not to be frequented, though excellent in this art, whose behaviour is vulgar and discreditable, and who cares not, provided he makes his fortune, whether it be at the expence of his reputation. § . the best school is the nobility, from whom every thing that is genteel is to be learned; but when a musician finds that his company is not proper, let him retire without repining, and his modesty will be to his commendation. § . if he should not meet with a gratification from the great, let him never complain; for it is better to get but little, than to lose a great deal, and that is not seldom the case. the best he can do, is to be assiduous in serving them, that at least he may hope for the pleasure of seeing them for once grateful, or be convinced for ever of their being ungrateful. § . my long and repeated travels have given me an opportunity of being acquainted with most of the courts of _europe_, and examples, more than my words, should persuade every able singer to see them also; but without yielding up his liberty to their allurements: for chains, though of gold, are still chains; and they are not all of that precious metal: besides, the several inconveniencies of disgrace, mortifications, uncertainty; and, above all, the hindrance of study. § .[ ] the golden age of musick would be already at an end, if the swans did not make their nests on some theatres in _italy_, or on the royal banks of the _thames_. o dear _london_!----on the other streams, they sing no more as they used to do their sweet notes at their expiring; but rather sadly lament the expiration of those august and adorable princes, by whom they were tenderly belov'd and esteemed. this is the usual vicissitude of things in this world; and we daily see, that whatever is sublunary must of necessity decline. let us leave the tears to the heart, and return to the singer. § . a discreet person will never use such affected expressions as, _i cannot sing to-day;--i've got a deadly cold;_ and, in making his excuse, falls a coughing. i can truly say, that i have never in my life heard a singer own the truth, and say, _i'm very well to-day_: they reserve the unseasonable confession to the next day, when they make no difficulty to say, _in all my days my voice was never in better order than it was yesterday_. i own, on certain conjunctures, the pretext is not only suitable, but even necessary; for, to speak the truth, the indiscreet parsimony of some, who would hear musick for thanks only, goes so far, that they think a master is immediately obliged to obey them _gratis_, and that the refusal is an offence that deserves resentment and revenge. but if it is a law human and divine, that every body should live by their honest labour, what barbarous custom obliges a musician to serve without a recompence? a cursed over-bearing; o sordid avarice! § . a singer, that knows the world, distinguishes between the different manners of commanding; he knows how to refuse without disobliging, and how to obey with a good grace; not being ignorant, that one, who has his interest most at heart, sometimes finds his account in serving without a gratification. § . one who sings with a desire of gaining honour and credit, cannot sing ill, and in time will sing better; and one, who thinks on nothing but gain, is in the ready way to remain ignorant. § . who would ever think (if experience did not shew it) that a virtue of the highest estimation should prejudice a singer? and yet, whilst presumption and arrogance triumph (i'm shock'd to think on't) amiable humility, the more the singer has of it, the more it depresses him. § . at first sight, arrogance has the appearance of ability; but, upon a nearer view, i can discover ignorance in masquerade. § . this arrogance serves them sometimes, as a politick artifice to hide their own failings: for example, certain singers would not be unconcern'd, under the shame of not being able to sing a few barrs at sight, if with shrugs, scornful glances, and malicious shaking of their heads, they did not give the auditors to understand that those gross errors are owing to him that accompanies, or to the _orchestre_. § . to humble such arrogance, may it never meet with that incense which it expects. § . who could sing better than the arogant, if they were not ashamed to study? § . it is a folly in a singer to grow vain at the first applauses, without reflecting whether they are given by chance, or out of flattery; and if he thinks he deserves them, there is an end of him. § . he should regulate his voice according to the place where he sings; for it would be the greatest absurdity, not to make a difference between a small cabinet and a vast theatre.[ ] § . he is still more to be blam'd, who, when singing in two, three, or four parts, does so raise his voice as to drown his companions; for if it is not ignorance, it is something worse. § . all compositions for more than one voice ought to be sung strictly as they are written; nor do they require any other art but a noble simplicity. i remember to have heard once a famous _duetto_ torn into atoms by two renown'd singers, in emulation; the one proposing, and the other by turns answering, that at last it[ ] ended in a contest, who could produce the most extravagancies. § . the correction of friends, that have knowledge, instructs very much; but still greater advantage may be gain'd from the ill-natur'd criticks; for, the more intent they are to discover defects, the greater benefit may be receiv'd from them without any obligation. § . it is certain, that the errors corrected by our enemies are better cur'd, than those corrected by ourselves; for we are apt to indulge our faults, nor can we so easily perceive them. § . he that sings with applause in one place only, let him not have too good an opinion of himself; let him often change climates, and then he will judge better of his talent. § . to please universally, reason will tell you, that you must always sing well; but if reason does not inform you, interest will persuade you to conform to the taste of that nation (provided it be not too deprav'd) which pays you. § . if he that sings well provokes envy, by singing better he will get the victory over it. § . i do not know if a perfect singer can at the same time be a perfect actor; for the mind being at once divided by two different operations, he will probably incline more to one than the other; it being, however, much more difficult to sing well than to act well, the merit of the first is beyond the second. what a felicity would it be, to possess both in a perfect degree![ ] § . having said, a singer should not copy, i repeat it now with this reason; that to copy is the part of a scholar, that of a master is to invent. § . let it be remembered by the singer, that copying comes from laziness, and that none copy ill but out of ignorance. § . where knowledge with study makes one a good singer, ignorance with one single copy makes a thousand bad ones; however, among these there are none that will acknowledge her for a teacher. § . if many of the female singers (for whom i have due respect) would be pleased to consider, that by copying a good one, they are become very bad ones, they would not appear so ridiculous on the stage for their affectation in presuming to sing the _airs_ of the person they copy, with the same graces. in this great error, (if it does not proceed from their masters) they seem to be governed by instinct, like the inferior creatures, rather than by reason; for that would shew them, that we may arrive at applause by different ways, and past examples, as well as one at this present make us sensible, that two women would not be equally eminent if the one copy'd the other.[ ] § . if the complaisance, which is due to the fair sex, does not excuse the abuse of copying when it proves prejudicial to the profession, what ought one then to say of those men, who, instead of inventing, not only copy others of their own sex, but also women. foolish and shameful!----supposing an impossibility, _viz._ that a singer has arrived at copying in such a manner as not to be distinguished from the original, should he attribute to himself a merit which does not belong to him, and dress himself out in the habits of another without being afraid of being stripp'd of them? § . he, that rightly knows how to copy in musick, takes nothing but the design; because that ornament, which we admire when _natural_, immediately loses its beauty when _artificial_. § . the most admired graces of a professor ought only to be imitated, and not copied; on condition also, that it does not bear not even so much as a shadow of resemblance of the original; otherwise, instead of a beautiful imitation, it will become a despicable copy. § . i cannot decide, which of the two deserves most to be despised, one who cannot imitate a good singer without _caricatura's_, or he that cannot imitate any well but bad ones. § . if many singers knew, that a bad imitation is a contagious evil, to which one who studies is not liable, the world would not be reduc'd to the misfortune of seeing in a _carnaval_ but one theatre provided with eminent performers, without hopes of[ ] an approaching remedy. let them take it for their pains. let the world learn to applaud merit; and (not to use a more harsh expression) be less complaisant to faults. § . whoever does not know how to steal the time in singing, knows not how to compose, nor to accompany himself, and is destitute of the best taste and greatest knowledge.[ ] § . the stealing of time, in the _pathetick_, is an honourable theft in one that sings better than others, provided he makes a restitution with ingenuity. § . an exercise, no less necessary than this, is that of agreeably _putting forth_ of the voice, without which all application is vain. whosoever pretends to obtain it, must hearken more to the dictates of the heart, than to those of art. § . oh! how great a master is the heart! confess it, my beloved singers, and gratefully own, that you would not have arrived at the highest rank of the profession if you had not been its scholars; own, that in a few lessons from it, you learned the most beautiful expressions, the most refin'd taste, the most noble action, and the most exquisite graces: own, (though it be hardly credible) that the heart corrects the defects of nature, since it softens a voice that's harsh, betters an indifferent one, and perfects a good one: own, when the heart sings you cannot dissemble, nor has truth a greater power of persuading: and, lastly, do you convince the world, (what is not in my power to do) that from the heart alone you have learn'd that _je ne sçai quoy_, that pleasing charm, that so subtily passes from vein to vein, and makes its way to the very soul. § . though the way to the heart is long and rugged, and known but to few, a studious application will, notwithstanding, master all obstacles. § . the best singer in the world continues to study, and persists in it as much to maintain his reputation, as he did to acquire it. § . to arrive at that glorious end, every body knows that there is no other means than study; but that does not suffice; it is also necessary to know in what manner, and with whose assistance, we must pursue our studies. § .[ ] there are now-a-days as many masters as there are professors of musick in any kind; every one of them teaches, i don't mean the first rudiments only, (that would be an affront to them;) i am now speaking of those who take upon them the part of a legislator in the most finished part in singing; and should we then wonder that the good taste is near lost, and that the profession is going to ruin? so mischievous a pretension prevails not only among those, who can barely be said to sing, but among the meanest instrumental performers; who, though they never sung, nor know how to sing, pretend not only to teach, but to perfect, and find some that are weak enough to be imposed on. but, what is more, the instrumental performers of some ability imagine that the beautiful graces and flourishes, with their nimble fingers, will have the same effect when executed with the voice; but it will not do[ ]. i should be the first to condemn the magisterial liberty i take, were it meant to give offence to such singers and instrumental performers of worth, who know how to sing, perform, and instruct; but my correction aims no farther than to the petulancy of those that have no capacity, with these few words, _age quod agis_; which (for those who do not understand _latin_) is as much as to say,-----do you mind your _sol-fa_; and you, your instrument. § . if sometimes it does happen, that an indifferent master should make an excellent disciple, it is then incontestable, that the gift of nature in the student is superior to the sufficiency of the instructor: and it is not to be wonder'd at, for, if from time to time, even great masters were not outdone, most of the finest arts would have sunk before now. § . it may seem to many, that every perfect singer must also be a perfect instructor, but it is not so; for his qualifications (though ever so great) are insufficient, if he cannot communicate his sentiments with ease, and in a method adapted to the ability of the scholar; if he has not some notion of composition, and a manner of instructing, which may seem rather an entertainment than a lesson; with the happy talent to shew the ability of the singer to advantage, and conceal his imperfections; which are the principal and most necessary instructions. § . a master, that is possessed of the abovementioned qualifications, is capable of teaching; with them he will raise a desire to study; will correct errors with a reason; and by examples incite a taste to imitate him. § . he knows, that a deficiency of ornaments displeases as much as the too great abundance of them; that a singer makes one languid and dull with too little, and cloys one with too much; but, of the two, he will dislike the former most, though it gives less offence, the latter being easier to be amended. § . he will have no manner of esteem for those who have no other graces than gradual _divisions_[ ]; and will tell you, embellishments of this sort are only fit for beginners. § . he will have as little esteem for those who think to make their auditors faint away, with their transition from the sharp third to the flat. § . he'll tell you, that a singer is lazy, who on the stage, from night to night, teaches the audience all his songs; who, by hearing them always without the least variation, have no difficulty to learn them by heart. § . he will be affrighted at the rashness of one that launches out, with little practice, and less study; lest venturing too far, he should be in great danger of losing himself. § . he will not praise one that presumes to sing two parts in three of an opera, promising himself never to be tiresome, as if that divine privilege of always pleasing were allowed him here below. such a one does not know the first principle of musical politicks; but time will teach it him. he, that sings little and well, sings very well. § . he will laugh at those who imagine to satisfy the publick with the magnificence of their habits, without reflecting, that merit and ignorance are equally aggrandized by pomp. the singers, that have nothing but the outward appearance, pay that debt to the eyes, which they owe to the ears. § . he will nauseate the new-invented stile of those who provoke the innocent notes with coarse startings of the voice. a disagreeable defect; however, being brought from[ ] beyond the _alps_, it passes for a _modern_ rarity. § . he will be astonished at this bewitched age, in which so many are paid so well for singing ill. the _moderns_ would not be pleas'd to be put in mind, that, twenty years ago, indifferent singers had but mean parts allotted them, even in the second-rate theatres; whereas at present, those, who are taught like parrots, heap up treasures beyond what the singers of the first degree then did.[ ] § . he will condemn the ignorance of the men most, they being more obliged to study than the women. § . he will not bear with one who imitates the women, even in sacrificing the time, in order to acquire the title of _modern_. § . he will marvel at that[ ] singer, who, having a good knowledge of time, yet does not make use of it, for want of having apply'd himself to the study of composition, or to accompany himself. his mistake makes him think that, to be eminent, it suffices to sing at sight; and does not perceive that the greatest difficulty, and the whole beauty of the profession consists in what he is ignorant of; he wants that art which teaches to anticipate the time, knowing where to lose it again; and, which is still more charming, to know how to lose it, in order to recover it again; which are the advantages of such as understand composition, and have the best taste. § . he will be displeased at the presumption of a singer who gets the words of the most wanton _airs_ of the theatre rendered into _latin_, that he may sing them with applause in the[ ] church; as if there were no manner of difference between the stile of the one and the other; and, as if the scraps of the stage were fit to offer to the deity. § . what will he not say of him who has found out the prodigious art of singing like a _cricket_? who could have ever imagin'd, before the introduction of the _mode_, that ten or a dozen quavers in a row could be trundled along one after the other, with a sort of _tremor_, of the voice, which for some time past has gone under the name of _mordente fresco_?[ ] § . he will have a still greater detestation for the invention of laughing in singing, or that screaming like a hen when she is laying her egg. will there not be some other little animal worth their imitation, in order to make the profession more and more ridiculous? § . he will disapprove the malicious custom of a singer in repute, who talks and laughs on the stage with his companions, to induce the publick to believe that such a singer, who appears the first time on the stage, does not deserve his attention; when in reality he is afraid of, or envies, his gaining applause. § . he cannot endure the vanity of that singer, who, full of himself from the little he has learned, is so taken with his own performance, that he seems falling into an extasy; pretending to impose silence and create wonder, as if his first note said to the audience, _hear and die_: but they, unwilling to die, chuse not to hear him, talk loud, and perhaps not much to his advantage. at his second air the noise encreases, and still encreasing, he looks upon it as a manifest injury done him; and, instead of correcting his conceited pride by study, he curses the deprav'd taste of that nation that does not esteem him, menacing never to return again; and thus the vain wretch comforts himself. § . he will laugh at one who will not act unless he has the choice of the drama, and a composer to his liking; with this additional condition, not to sing in company with such a man, or without such a woman. § . with the like derision, he will observe some others, who with an humility worse than pride, go from one box to another, gathering praises from the most illustrious persons, under a pretence of a most profound obsequiousness, and become in every representation more and more familiar. humility and modesty are most beautiful virtues; but if they are not accompanied with a little decorum, they have some resemblance to hypocrisy. § . he will have no great opinion of one, who is not satisfied with his part, and never learns it; of one, who never sings in an opera without thrusting in one _air_ which he always carries in his pocket; of one, who bribes the composer to give him an _air_ that was intended for another; of one, who takes pains about trifles, and neglects things of importance; of one, who, by procuring undeserved recommendations, makes himself and his patron ridiculous; of one, who does not sustain his voice, out of aversion to the _pathetick_; of one, who gallops to follow the _mode_; and of all the bad singers, who, not knowing what's good, court the _mode_ to learn its defects. § . to sum up all, he will call none a singer of merit, but him who is correct; and who executes with a variety of graces of his own, which his skill inspires him with unpremeditately; knowing, that a professor of eminence cannot, if he would, continually repeat an _air_ with the self-same _passages_ and _graces_. he who sings premeditately, shews he has learn'd his lesson at home. § . after having corrected several other abuses and defects, to the advantage of the singer, he will return with stronger reasons to persuade him to have recourse to the fundamental rules, which will teach him to proceed on the bass from one interval to another, with sure steps, and without danger of erring. if then the singer should say, sir, you trouble yourself in vain; for the bare knowledge of the errors is not sufficient; i have need of other help than words, and i know not where to find it, since it seems that there is at present such a scarcity of good examples in _italy_: then, shrugging his shoulders, he will answer him, rather with sighs than words; that he must endeavour to learn of the best singers that there are; particularly by observing two of the fair sex,[ ] of a merit superior to all praise; who with equal force, in a different stile, help to keep up the tottering profession from immediately falling into ruin. the one is inimitable for a privileg'd gift of singing, and for enchanting the world with a prodigious felicity in executing, and with a singular brilliant (i know not whether from nature or art) which pleases to excess. the delightful, soothing _cantabile_ of the other, joined with the sweetness of a fine voice, a perfect intonation, strictness of time, and the rarest productions of a genius, are qualifications as particular and uncommon, as they are difficult to be imitated. the _pathetick_ of the one, and the _allegro_ of the other, are the qualities the most to be admired respectively in each of them. what a beautiful mixture would it be, if the excellence of these two angelick creatures could be united in one single person! but let us not lose sight of the master. § . he will also convince the scholar, that the artifice of a professor is never more pleasing, than when he deceives the audience with agreeable surprizes; for which reason he will advise him to have recourse to a seeming plainness, as if he aim'd at nothing else. § . but when the audience is in no farther expectation, and (as i may say) grows indolent, he will direct him to rouse them that instant with a _grace_. § . when they are again awake, he will direct him to return to his feigned simplicity, though it will no more be in his power to delude those that hear him, for with an impatient curiosity they already expect a second, and so on. § . he will give him ample instructions concerning _graces_ of all sorts, and furnish him with rules and profitable documents. § . here should i inveigh (though i could not enough) against the treachery of my memory, that has not preserved, as it ought, all those peculiar excellencies which a great man did once communicate to me, concerning _passages_ and _graces_; and to my great sorrow, and perhaps to the loss of others, it will not serve me to publish any more than these few poor remains, the impressions of which are still left, and which i am now going to mention. chap. x. _of_ passages _or_ graces. _passages_ or _graces_ being the principal ornaments in singing, and the most favourite delight of the judicious, it is proper that the singer be very attentive to learn this art. § . therefore, let him know, that there are five principal qualifications, which being united, will bring him to admirable perfection, _viz._ _judgment_, _invention_, _time_, _art_, and _taste_. § . there are likewise five subaltern embellishments _viz._ the _appoggiatura_, the _shake_, the _putting forth of the voice_, the _gliding_, and _dragging_. _the principal qualifications teach,_ § . that the _passages_ and _graces_ cannot be form'd but from a profound _judgment_. § . that they are produced by a singular and beautiful _invention_, remote from all that is vulgar and common. § . that, being govern'd by the rigorous, but necessary, precepts of _time_, they never transgress its regulated measure, without losing their own merit. § . that, being guided by the most refined _art_ on the bass, they may there (and no where else) find their center; there to sport with delight, and unexpectedly to charm. § . that, it is owing to an exquisite _taste_, that they are executed with that sweet _putting forth_ of the voice, which is so enchanting. _from the accessory qualities is learned,_ § . that the _graces_ or _passages_ be easy in appearance, thereby to give universal delight. § . that in effect they be difficult that thereby the art of the inventor be the more admired. § . that they be performed with an equal regard to the expression of the words, and the beauty of the art. § . that they be _gliding_ or _dragging_ in the _pathetick_, for they have a better effect than those that are mark'd. § . that they do not appear studied, in order to be the more regarded. § . that they be softened with the _piano_ in the _pathetick_, which will make them more affecting. § . that in the _allegro_ they be sometimes accompanied with the _forte_ and the _piano_, so as to make a sort of _chiaro scuro_. § . that they be confin'd to a _group_ of a few notes, which are more pleasing than those which are too numerous. § . that in a slow _time_, there may be a greater number of them (if the bass allows it) with an obligation upon the singer to keep to the point propos'd, that his capacity be made more conspicuous. § . that they be properly introduc'd, for in a wrong place they disgust. § . that they come not too close together, in order to keep them distinct. § . that they should proceed rather from the heart than from the voice, in order to make their way to the heart more easily. § . that they be not made on the second or fourth vowel, when closely pronounc'd, and much less on the third and fifth. § . that they be not copied, if you would not have them appear defective. § . that they be stol'n on the _time_, to captivate the soul. § . that they never be repeated in the same place, particularly in _pathetick airs_, for there they are the most taken notice of by the judicious. § . and, above all, let them be improv'd; by no means let them lose in the repetition. § . many professors are of opinion, that in _graces_ there is no room for the marked _divisions_, unless mix'd with some of the aforesaid embellishments or some other agreable accidents. § . but it is now time that we speak of the _dragging_, that, if the _pathetick_ should once return again into the world, a singer might be able to understand it. the explanation would be easier understood by notes of musick than by words, if the printer was not under great difficulty to print a few notes; notwithstanding which, i'll endeavour, the best i can, to make myself understood. § . when on an even and regular movement of a bass, which proceeds slowly, a singer begins with a high note, dragging it gently down to a low one, with the _forte_ and _piano_, almost gradually, with inequality of motion, that is to say, stopping a little more on some notes in the middle, than on those that begin or end the _strascino_ or _dragg_.[ ] every good musician takes it for granted, that in the art of singing there is no invention superior, or execution more apt to touch the heart than this, provided however it be done with judgment, and with putting forth of the voice in a just _time_ on the bass. whosoever has most notes at command, has the greater advantage; because this pleasing ornament is so much the more to be admired, by how much the greater the fall is. perform'd by an excellent _soprano_, that makes use of it but seldom, it becomes a prodigy; but as much as it pleases descending, no less would it displease ascending. § . mind this, o my beloved singers! for it is to you only, who are inclined to study, that i have addressed myself. this was the doctrine of the school of those professors, whom, by way of reproach, some mistaken persons call _ancients_. observe carefully its rules, examine strictly its precepts, and, if not blinded by prejudice, you will see that this school ought to sing in tune, to put forth the voice, to make the words understood, to express, to use proper gesture, to perform in _time_, to vary on its movement, to compose, and to study the _pathetick_, in which alone taste and judgment triumph. confront this school with yours, and if its precepts should not be sufficient to instruct you, learn what's wanting from the _modern_. § . but if these my exhortations, proceeding from my zeal, have no weight with you, as the advice of inferiors is seldom regarded, allow at least, that whoever has the faculty of thinking, may once in sixty years think right. and if you think, that i have been too partial to the times past, then would i persuade you, (if you have not a shaking hand) to weigh in a just ballance your most renowned singers; who you take to be _moderns_ (but are not so, except in their _cadences_;) and having undeceived yourselves, you will perceive in them, that instead of affectations, abuses, and errors, they sing according to those powerful lessons that give delight to the soul, and whose perfections have made impressions on me, and which i shall always remember with the greatest pleasure. do but consult them, as i have done, and they will truly and freely tell you, that they sell their jewels where they are understood; that the singers of eminence are not of the _mode_, and that at present there are many bad singers. § . true it is, that there are some, tho' few, very good singers, who, when the vehemence of their youthful fire is abated, will by their examples do justice to their delightful profession, in keeping up the splendor of it, and will leave to posterity a lasting and glorious fame of their performances. i point them out to you, that, if you find yourselves in an error, you may not want the means to correct it, nor an oracle to apply to whenever you have occasion. from whence i have good grounds to hope, that the true taste in singing will last to the end of the world. § . whoever comprehends what has been demonstrated to him, in these and many other observations, will need no farther incitement to study. stirred up by his own desire, he will fly to his beloved instrument, from which, by continued application, he will find he has no reason to sit down satisfied with what he has learn'd before. he will make new discoveries, inventing new graces, from whence after comparing them well together, he will chuse the best, and will make use of them as long as he thinks them so; but, going on in refining, he will find others more deserving his esteem. to conclude, from these he will proceed on to an almost infinite number of _graces_, by the means whereof his mind will be so opened, that the most hidden treasures of the art, and most remote from his imagination, will voluntarily present themselves; so that, unless pride blinds him, or study becomes tiresome to him, or his memory fails him, he will increase his store of embellishments in a stile which will be entirely his own: the principal aim of one that strives to gain the highest applause. § . finally, o ye young singers, hearken to me for your profit and advantage. the abuses, the defects, and the errors divulged by me in these observations, (which in justice ought not to be charg'd on the _modern_ stile) were once almost all faults i myself was guilty of; and in the flower of my youth, when i thought myself to be a great man, it was not easy for me to discover them. but, in a more mature age, the slow undeceit comes too late. i know i have sung ill, and would i have not writ worse! but since i have suffered by my ignorance, let it at least serve for a warning to amend those who wish to sing well. he that studies, let him imitate the ingenious bee, that sucks its honey from the most grateful flowers. from those called _ancients_, and those supposed _moderns_, (as i have said) much may be learn'd; it is enough to find out the flower, and know how to distill, and draw the essence from it. § . the most cordial, and not less profitable advice, i can give you, is the following: § . remember what has been wisely observed, that mediocrity of merit can but for a short time eclipse the true sublime, which, how old soever it grows, can never die. § . abhor the example of those who hate correction; for like lightning to those who walk in the dark, tho' it frightens them, it gives them light. § . learn from the errors of others: o great lesson! it costs little, and instructs much. of every one something is to be learned, and the most ignorant is sometimes the greatest master. _finis_. plates pl. i chap. .st [illustration: § page nº. ] [illustration: page nº. ] [illustration: § page nº. exachords transposed a fifth lower] [illustration: § page nº. messa di voce] pl. ii chap. d. [illustration: § page nº. semitones major semitones minor] [illustration: § page & nº. ] [illustration: § page nº. ] [illustration: § page nº. ] [illustration: § page nº. ] [illustration: § page nº. ] pl. iii [illustration: § page nº. .] [illustration: § page nº. .] [illustration: § page nº. .] [illustration: page nº. .] [illustration: page nº. .] [illustration: page nº. .] [illustration: page nº. .] [illustration: § page nº. .] [illustration: page nº. . per messe di voce] pl. iv chap. d. [illustration: § page nº. .] [illustration: § page nº. .] [illustration: flat key] [illustration: sharp key page nº. .] [illustration: § page nº. .] [illustration: § page nº. .] [illustration: § page nº. .] [illustration: § page nº. .] [illustration: § page nº. .] [illustration: § page nº. .] chap th [illustration: § page nº. . bad] chap. th [illustration: § page nº. . affann:, nº. . affan-ni] chap th [illustration: § page nº. . superior cadence la sol fa inferior cadence fa me fa] [illustration: § page nº. . nº. . nel fondo] [illustration: § page nº. ., not resolved nº. resolved] [illustration: § page nº. confond[ve]-ro am[ve]-rò] footnotes: [ ] when arts and sciences were retrieving from the barbarism in which they were buried, musick chiefly took its rise in _flanders_, and the composers of musick of that nation were dispersed all over _europe_, to the improvement of others. in _italy_ there arose from that school, among several others, _p. alis. palestrina_, a genius so extraordinary, that he is looked upon as the _raphael_ among the musicians. he lived in pope _leo_ the tenth's time; and no musick, that we know of, is performed at the pope's chapel, to this day, but of his composition, except the famous _miserere_ of _allegri_, who liv'd a little time after _palestrina_. [ ] our author seems to be a little too partial in favour of the singer, all momentary productions being the same; though it must be allowed, that by reason of the expression of the words, any error in singing will be more capital, than if the same were committed on an instrument. [ ] the author directs this for the instruction of a _soprano_, or a treble voice, because youth possesses that voice mostly, and that is the age when they should begin to study musick. it may not be amiss to mention, that the _soprano_ is most apt to perform the things required by your author, and that every different scale of voice has something peculiarly relative to its kind as its own property; for a _soprano_ has generally most volubility, and becomes it best; and also equally the pathetick. the _contr'alto_ more of the pathetick than the volubility; the _tenor_ less of the pathetick, but more of the volubility than the _contr'alto_, though not so much as the _soprano_. the _bass_, in general more pompous than any, but should not be so boisterous as now too often practised. [ ] by this section, and mostly throughout the work, one sees, the author calculated this treatise chiefly for the advantage of professors of musick; but, notwithstanding, it appears in several places, that his intention is, that all lovers of musick should also be the better for it. [ ] _the explanation of_ sic vos non vobis, _&c._, _for the satisfaction of those who do not perfectly remember it_. _virgil_ having composed a distich, containing the praise of _augustus_, and a compliment on his good fortune, fix'd it on the palace gate, without any name subscrib'd. _augustus_, making strict enquiry after the author, and _virgil's_ modesty not suffering him to own the verses, one _bathillus_, a poet of a mean reputation, owned himself the author, and received honour and reward from the emperor. _virgil_, somewhat scandalized at this accident, fixed an hemistich in these words (_sic vos non vobis_) four times repeated under the other, where he had placed the former verses. the emperor was as diligent to have these hemistichs filled up, but no-body appearing to do it, at length _virgil_ supplied them thus: _hos ego versiculos feci, tulit alter honores; sic vos non vobis nidificatis aves. sic vos non vobis vellera fertis oves. sic vos non vobis mellificatis apes. sic vos non vobis fertis aratra boves._ i.e. these verses i made, but another has taken the applause of them. _so ye birds build not your nests for yourselves. so ye sheep bear not your wool for yourselves. so ye bees make not your honey for yourselves. so ye oxen submit to the plow not for yourselves_. upon this discovery, _bathillus_ became the ridicule of _rome_, and _virgil_ acquired a double reputation. the distich, which _bathillus_ claim'd for his, was this: _nocte plut totâ, redeunt spectacula manè, divisum imperium cum jove cæsar habet._ i.e. it rain'd all night; in the morning the publick shews return: _jove_ and _cæsar_ divide the rule of the world. the compliment is, that _cæsar_ designing to exhibit sports to the people, though the preceding night was rainy and unpromising, yet such weather returned with the morning, as did not disappoint the solemnity. [ ] _alla capella_, church-musick where the flats and sharps are not mark'd. [ ] seven cliffs necessary to be known. pl. i. numb. . by the help of these cliffs any line or space may be what note you please. pl. i. numb. . [ ] it is necessary to understand the _sol-fa_-ing, and its rules, which shew where the two semitones lie in each octave, pl. i. numb. . where flats or sharps are marked at the cliff, the rule is, if one flat, that is _fa_; if more flats, the last. if one sharp, that is _mi_; if more sharps, the last. [ ] his meaning is, that the _french_ are not in the right. [ ] see § , and the following, in chap. iii. where the difficulty of the _semitone major_ and _minor_ are cleared. [ ] _voce di petto_ is a full voice, which comes from the breast by strength, and is the most sonorous and expressive. _voce di testa_ comes more from the throat, than from the breast, and is capable of more volubility. _falsetto_ is a feigned voice, which is entirely formed in the throat, has more volubility than any, but of no substance. [ ] _register_; a term taken from the different stops of an organ. [ ] the pitch of _lombardy_ or _venice_, is something more than half a tone higher than at _rome_. [ ] a _messa di voce_ is the holding out and swelling a note. vide pl. i. numb. . this being a term of art, it is necessary to use it, as well as _piano_ for soft, and _forte_ for loud. _n.b._ our author recommends here to use any grace sparingly, which he does in several other places, and with reason; for the finest grace too often repeated grows tiresome. [ ] see for _appoggiatura_ in the next chapter. [ ] this chapter contains some enquiries into matters of curiosity, and demands a little attention. the reader therefore is desired to postpone it to the last. [ ] _appoggiatura_ is a word to which the _english_ language has not an equivalent; it is a note added by the singer, for the arriving more gracefully to the following note, either in rising or falling, as is shewn by the examples in notes of musick, pl. ii. numb. . the _french_ express it by two different terms, _port de voix_ and _appuyer_; as the _english_ do by a _prepare_ and a _lead_. the word _appoggiatura_ is derived from _appoggiare_ to lean on. in this sense, you lean on the first to arrive at the note intended, rising or falling; and you dwell longer on the preparation, than the note for which the preparation is made, and according to the value of the note. the same in a preparation to a shake, or a beat from the note below. no _appoggiatura_ can be made at the beginning of a piece; there must be a note preceding, from whence it leads. [ ] here begins the examination of the _semitones major and minor_, which he promised in § . ch. . it may be of satisfaction to the studious, to set this matter at once in a true light; by which our author's doubts will be cleared, and his reasoning the easier understood. a _semitone major_ changes name, line, and space: _a semitone_ minor changes neither. pl. ii. numb. . to a _semitone major_ one can go with a rise or _a_ fall distinctly; to a _semitone minor_ one cannot _n.b._ from a _tone minor_ the _appoggiatura_ is better and easier than from a _tone major_. [ ] these are all _tones major_ and _minor_, and _semitones major_. pl. ii. numb. . [ ] because they are _semitones major_. pl. ii. numb. . [ ] because they are _semitones major_. pl. ii. numb. . [ ] because they are all _semitones minor_, which may be known by the abovementioned rule, of their not changing name, line, nor space. pl. ii. numb. . and which makes it manifest, that a _semitone minor_ cannot bear an _appoggiatura_. [ ] for the same reason, these being _semitones minor_. pl. ii. numb. . [ ] because one is a _semitone major_, and the other a _semitone minor_. pl. iii. numb. . [ ] because they are _semitones minor_. pl. iii, numb. . [ ] the _tone_, or _mood_, you are in, will determine which is a _tone major_ or _minor_; for if you change the _mood_ or _tone_, that which was the _tone major_ may become the _tone minor_, and so _vice versâ_: therefore these two examples from _c_ to _d_, and from _f_ to _g_, do not hold true. [ ] his perplexity comes from a wrong notion, in not distinguishing those two _semitones_. [ ] all intervals, rising with an _appoggiatura_, arise to the note with a sort of _beat_, more or less: and the same, descending, arrive to the note with a sort of _shake_, more or less. pl. iii. numb. , . one cannot agreeably ascend or descend the interval of a third _major_ or _minor_, pl. iii. numb . but gradually very well. pl. iii. numb. . examples of false or deceitful intervals. pl. iii. numb. . [ ] so in all cases where the interval is deceitful. pl. iii. numb. . with a _messa di voce_. pl. iii. numb. . see for _messa di voce_, chap. i. § , and its note. [ ] in all the modern _italian_ compositions the _appoggiatura's_ are mark'd, supposing the singers to be ignorant where to place them. the _french_ use them for their lessons on the _harpsichord_, &c., but seldom for the voice. [ ] see for the several examples of the _shakes_, pl. iv. [ ] the first _shake_ of a _tone_, pl. iv. numb. . [ ] see for the meaning of superior and inferior _cadences_, chap. viii. § . pl. v. numb. . _n.b._ prom the inferior or lower cadences, the first, or full, _tone shake_, is not always excluded; for in a sharp key it is always a _tone_, and in a flat key a _semitone_, pl. iv. numb. . [ ] the second _shake_ of a _semitone major_, pl. iv. numb. . [ ] the third the short _shake_. pl. iv. numb. . [ ] the fourth the rising _shake_. pl. iv. numb. . [ ] the fifth the descending _shake_. pl. iv. numb. . [ ] the sixth the slow _shake_. pl. iv. numb. . [ ] the seventh the redoubled _shake_. pl. iv. numb. . [ ] the eighth the _trillo-mordente_, or _shake_ with a _beat_. pl. iv. numb. . [ ] _shakes_ are generally proper from preceding notes descending, but not ascending, except on particular occasions. never too many, or too near one another; but very bad to begin with them, which is too frequently done. the using so often _beats_, _shakes_, and _prepares_, is owing to lessons on the lute, harpsichord, and other instruments, whose sounds discontinue, and therefore have need of this help. [ ] the _mark'd divisions_ should be something like the _staccato_ on the violin, but not too much; against which a caution will presently be given. [ ] the _gliding notes_ are like several notes in one stroke of the bow on the violin. [ ] the pronouncing _eror_ instead of _error_; or _dally_ instead of _daly_. the not distinguishing; the double consonants from the single, is an error but too common at present. [ ] see for the _syncopated_, _ligatura_, or _binding_ notes, pl. iv. numb. . [ ] _madrigals_ are pieces in several parts; the last in practice were about threescore years ago; then the opera's began to be in vogue, and good musick and the knowledge of it began to decline. [ ] _musica di camera._ chamber, or private, musick; where the multitude is not courted for applause, but only the true judges; and consists chiefly in _cantata's_, _duetto's_, &c. in the recitative of _cantata's_, our author excelled in a singular manner for the pathetick expression of the words. [ ] _cortona_ liv'd above forty years ago. _balarini_, in service at the court of _vienna_, much in favour with the emperor _joseph_, who made him a baron. [ ] see broken cadences, pl. v. numb. . ----final cadences, pl. v. numb. . [ ] _motets_, or anthems. [ ] the proverb is, _lingua_ toscana _in bocca_ romana.--this regards the different dialects, in _italy_; as _neapolitan_, _venetian_, _&c._ the same, in comparison, _london_ to _york_, or _somersetshire_. [ ] the church-musick in _italy_ is all in _latin_, except _oratorio's_, which are entertainments in their churches. it is therefore necessary to have some notion of the _latin_ tongue. [ ] the first caution against imitating injudiciously the instrumental with the voice. [ ] the _italians_ have a saying, _voce di compositore_, to denote a bad or an indifferent voice. [ ] _cantabile_, the tender, passionate, pathetick; more singing than _allegro_, which is lively, brisk, gay, and more in the executive way. [ ] suppose the first part expressed anger, and the second relented, and was to express pity or compassion, he must be angry again in the _da capo_. this often happens, and is very ridiculous if not done to a real purpose, and that the subject and poetry require it. [ ] it is supposed, the scholar is arrived to the capacity of knowing harmony and counterpoint. [ ] the general dividing of _airs_ described, to which the author often refers. [ ] with due deference to our author, it may be feared, that the affectation of singing with variety has conduced very much to the introducing a bad taste. [ ] continuation of the general dividing _airs_ in § . the end of this section is a seasonable corrective of the rule prescribed in the foregoing fifth section. [ ] _rivani_, called _ciecolino_, must have written some treatise on time, which is not come to us, therefore no further account can be given of him. [ ] _pistochi_ was very famous above fifty years ago, and refined the manner of singing in _italy_, which was then a little crude. his merit in this is acknowledged by all his countrymen, contradicted by none. briefly, what is recounted of him, is, that when he first appeared to the world, and a youth, he had a very fine treble voice, admired and encouraged universally, but by a dissolute life lost it, and his fortune. being reduced to the utmost misery, he entered into the service of a composer, as a copyist, where he made use of the opportunity of learning the rules of composition, and became a good proficient. after some years, he recovered a little glimpse of voice, which by time and practice turned into a fine _contr'alto_. having experience on his side, he took care of it, and as encouragement came again, he took the opportunity of travelling all _europe_ over, where hearing the different manners and tastes, he appropriated them to himself, and formed that agreeable mixture, which he produced in _italy_, where he was imitated and admired. he at last past many years, when in an affluent fortune, at the court of _anspach_, where he had a stipend, and lived an agreeable easy life; and at last retired to a convent in _italy_. it has been remark'd, that though several of his disciples shewed the improvement they had from him, yet others made an ill use of it, having not a little contributed to the introduction of the _modern_ taste. [ ] _sifacio_, famous beyond any, for the most singular beauty of his voice. his manner of singing was remarkably plain, consisting particularly in the _messa di voce_, the putting forth his voice, and the expression. there is an _italian_ saying, that an hundred perfections are required in an excellent singer, and he that hath a fine voice has ninety-nine of them. it is also certain, that as much as is allotted to volubility and tricks, so much is the beauty of the voice sacrificed; for the one cannot be done without prejudice to the other. _sifacio_ got that name from his acting the part of _syphax_ the first time he appeared on the stage. he was in _england_ when famous, and belonged to king _james_ the second's chapel. after which he returned to _italy_, continuing to be very much admired, but at last was waylaid, and murthered for his indiscretion. [ ] _buzzolini_, the name known, but no particulars of him. [ ] _litigino_, in the service of the emperor _joseph_, and a scholar of _pistochi_. [ ] _signora boschi_ was over in _england_ in queen _anne's_ time; she sung one season in the opera's, returned to _venice_, and left her husband behind for several years; he sung the bass. she was a mistress of musick, but her voice was on the decay when she came here. [ ] _santini_, afterwards _signora lotti_. she was famous above forty years ago, and appeared at several courts in _germany_, where she was sent for; then retired to _venice_, where she married _signor lotti_, chapel-master of st. _mark_. all these singers, though they had a talent particular to themselves, they could, however, sing in several sorts of stile; on the contrary, one finds few, but what attempt nothing that is out of their way. a modern singer of the good stile, being asked, whether such and such compositions would not please at present in _italy_? no doubt, said he, they would, but where are the singers that can sing them? [ ] those tremendous _airs_ are called in _italian_, _un aria di bravura_; which cannot perhaps be better translated into _english_, than a _hectoring_ song. [ ] _pierre simone agostini_ lived about threescore years ago. several _cantata's_ of his composition are extant, some of them very difficult, not from the number of _divisions_ in the vocal part, but from the expression, and the surprising incidents, and also the execution of the basses. he seems to be the first that put basses with so much vivacity; for _charissimi_ before him composed with more simplicity, tho' he is reckoned to be one of the first, who enlivened his musick in the movements of his basses. of _pierre-simone_ nothing more is known but that he loved his bottle, and when he had run up a bill in some favourite place, he composed a _cantata_, and sent it to a certain cardinal, who never failed sending him a fixed sum, with which he paid off his score. [ ] _alessandro stradella_ lived about _pier. simone's_ time, or very little after. he was a most excellent composer, superior in all respects to the foregoing, and endowed with distinguishing personal qualifications. it is reported, that his favourite instrument was the harp, with which he sometimes accompanied his voice, which was agreeable. to hear such a composer play on the harp, must have been what we can have no notion of, by what we now hear. he ended his life fatally, for he was murthered. the fact is thus related. being at _genoa_, a place where the ladies are allowed to live with more freedom than in any other part of _italy_, _stradella_ had the honour of being admitted into a noble family, the lady whereof was a great lover of musick. her brother, a wrong-headed man, takes umbrage at _stradella's_ frequent visits there, and forbids him going upon his peril, which order _stradella_ obeys. the lady's husband not having seen _stradella_ at his house for some days, reproaches him with it. _stradella_, for his excuse, tells him his brother-in-law's order, which the nobleman is angry with, and charges him to continue his visits as formerly; he had been there scarce three or four times, but one evening going home, attended by a servant and a lanthorn, four ruffians rushed out, the lady's brother one among them, and with _stiletts_ or daggers stabb'd him, and left him dead upon the place. the people of _genoa_ all in a rage fought for the murtherer, who was forced to fly, his quality not being able to protect him. in another account of him, this particularity is mentioned; that the murderers pursued him to _rome_, and on enquiry learned, that an _oratorio_ of his composition was to be performed that evening; they went with an intent to execute their design, but were so moved with his composition, that they rather chose to tell him his danger, advised him to depart, and be upon his guard. but, being pursued by others, he lost his life. his fate has been lamented by every body, especially by those who knew his merit, and none have thought him deserving so sad a catastrophe. [ ] when _tosi_ writ this, the composers in vogue were _scarlatti_, _bononcini_, _gasparini_, _mancini_, &c. the last and modern stile has pretty well spread itself all over _italy_, and begins to have a great tendency to the same beyond the _alps_, as he calls it. [ ] the _moods_, here spoken of, our author has not well explained. the foundation he goes upon are the eight church _moods_. but his meaning and complaint is, that commonly the compositions are in _c_, or in _a_, with their transpositions, and that the others are not used or known. but to particularise here what the _moods_ are, and how to be used, is impossible, for that branch only would require a large treatise by itself. [ ] the _airs_, sung in unison with the instruments, were invented in the _venetian_ opera's, to please the _barcaroles_, who are their watermen: and very often their applause supports an opera. the _roman_ school always distinguished itself, and required compositions of study and care. how it is now at _rome_ is doubtful; but we do not hear that there are any _corelli's_. [ ] _maestro di capella_, master of the chapel, the highest title belonging to a master of musick. even now the singers in _italy_ give the composers of opera's the title of _signior maestro_ as a mark of their submission. [ ] _contrapunto_, counterpoint, or note against note, the first rudiments of composition. [ ] _furlana_. a sort of country dance, or _cheshire_-round. it is reported, that the church-musick in _italy_, far from keeping that majesty it ought, is vastly abused the other way; and some singers have had the impudence to have other words put to favourite opera _airs_ and sung them in churches. this abuse is not new, for st. _augustine_ complains of it; and _palestrina_ prevented in his time musick from being banished the churches. [ ] _tono_, or _mood_, and sometimes means the key. our author in this section is fond of a pun, which cannot well be translated. _tono_ is sometimes writ _tuono_ and _tuono_ signifies thunder; therefore the ignorant answers, he knows no other _tuono_ but that which is preceded by lightning. [ ] _cadences_; or, principal closes in _airs_. [ ] for superior and inferior _cadences_, see pl. v. numb. . [ ] broken _cadences_, see example, chap. v. § , and its note. [ ] _cadences_ that fall a fifth, with and without words, pl. v, numb. and . [ ] by the _final cadences_ here mentioned, the first is at the end of the first part of the _air_; the second at the end of the second part: and the third at the end of the first part when repeated again, or at the _da capo_, as it is always expressed in _italian_. [ ] for the resolved and unresolved _cadences_, see pl. v. numb. and . [ ] see for the examples, pl. v. numb. . [ ] see example, pl. vi. numb. . [ ] see example, pl. vi. numb. . _n.b._ an _appoggiatura_ cannot be made on an unaccented syllable. [ ] see for examples, pl. vi. numb. . [ ] see for examples, pl. vi. numb. . [ ] some, after a tender and passionate _air_, make a lively merry _cadence_; and, after a brisk _air_, end it with one that is doleful. [ ] though this chapter regards singers who make it their profession, and particularly those who sing on the stage, yet there are many excellent precepts interspersed, that are of use to lovers of musick. [ ] _kyrie_, the first word of the mass-musick in the cathedral stile, is not so difficult to them as the _cantata's_; and the _latin_ in the service, being familiar to them, saves them the trouble of attending to the words. [ ] _thomas morley_ (who lived above an hundred years ago) in the third part of his treatise, pag. , speaking of _motetts_ or anthems, complains thus:--'but i see not what passions or motions it can stir up, being as most men doe commonlie sing,--leaving out the ditty--as it were a musick made onely for instruments, which will indeed shew the nature of the musick, but never carry the spirit and (as it were) that lively soule which the ditty giveth; but of this enough. and to return to the expressing of the ditty, the matter is now come to that state, that though a song be never so wel made, and never so aptly applyed to the words, yet shall you hardly find singers to expresse it as it ought to be; for most of our church-men, (so they crie louder in the quire then their fellowes) care for no more; whereas, by the contrarie, they ought to study how to vowel and sing clean expressing their words with devotion and passion, whereby to draw the hearer as it were in chaines of gold by the eares to the consideration of holy things. but this, for the most part, you shall find amongst them, that let them continue never so long in the church, yea though it were twentie years, they will never study to sing better than they did the first day of their preferment to that place; so that it seems, that having obtained the living which they sought for, they have little or no care at all, either of their own credit, or well discharging of that dutie whereby they have their maintenance.' [ ] in _italy_, the courts of _palma_, _modena_, _turin_, &c. and in _germany_, the courts of _vienna_, _bavaria_, _hanover_, _brandenbourg_, _palatine_, _saxony_, &c. [ ] there have been such, who valued themselves for shaking a room, breaking the windows, and stunning the auditors with their voice. [ ] the renowned abbot _steffani_, so famous for his _duetto's_, would never suffer such luxuriant singers to perform any of them, unless they kept themselves within bounds. [ ] _nicolini_, who came the first time into _england_ about the year , had both qualities, more than any that have come since. he acted to perfection, and did not sing much inferior. his variations in the _airs_ were excellent; but in his _cadences_ he had a little of the antiquated tricks. _valentini_, (who was here at the same time) a scholar of _pistochi_, though not so powerful in voice or action as _nicolini_, was more chaste in his singing. [ ] the two women, he points at, are _cuzzoni_ and _faustina_. [ ] the _carnaval_ is a festival in _italy_, particularly celebrated at _venice_ from _christmas_ to _lent_, when all sorts of diversions are permitted; and at that time there are sometimes three different theatres for opera's only. [ ] our author has often mentioned time; the regard to it, the strictness of it, and how much it is neglected and unobserv'd. in this place speaking of stealing the time, it regards particularly the vocal, or the performance on a single instrument in the _pathetick_ and _tender_; when the bass goes an exactly regular pace, the other part retards or anticipates in a singular manner, for the sake of expression, but after that returns to its exactness, to be guided by the bass. experience and taste must teach it. a mechanical method of going on with the bass will easily distinguish the merit of the other manner. [ ] a farther animadversion against imitating instruments with the voice. [ ] many graces may be very good and proper for a violin, that would be very improper for a hautboy; and so with every species of instruments that have something peculiar. it is a very great error (too much in practice) for the voice, (which should serve as a standard to be imitated by instruments,) to copy all the tricks practised on the several instruments, to its greatest detriment. [ ] _passo_ and _passagio_. the difference is, that a _passo_ is a sudden grace or flight, not uniform. see pl. vi. numb. . a _passagio_ is a division, a continuation, or a succession of notes, ascending or descending with uniformity. see pl. vi. numb. . [ ] this alludes to the _french_ manner of singing, from whence that defect is copy'd. [ ] the time he alludes to, is at present between thirty and forty years ago. [ ] compare this section with section in this chapter and the note. [ ] this is a fault more than once heard of, in _oratario's_ or _motetts_. [ ] see example, pl. vi. numb. . [ ] _faustina_ and _cuzzoni_, they both having within these few years been in _england_, there needs no other remark to be made on them, but to inform futurity, that the _english_ audience distinguish'd them both and at the same time, according to their merit, and as our author has describ'd them. it may be worth remarking, that _castilione_, who lived above two hundred years ago, in his _cortegiano_, describes _bidon_, and _marchetto cara_, two famous singers in his time, with the same distinguishing qualifications. [ ] see examples, pl. vi. numb. and . melody by laura e. richards to the lovely memory of my sister, julia romana anagnos. contents i. the child ii. the doctor iii. on the road iv. rosin the beau v. in the churchyard vi. the serpent vii. lost viii. waiting ix. blondel x. darkness xi. light "_minded of nought but peace, and of a child_." sidney lanier. chapter i. the child. "well, there!" said miss vesta. "the child has a wonderful gift, that is certain. just listen to her, rejoice! you never heard our canary sing like that!" miss vesta put back the shutters as she spoke, and let a flood of light into the room where miss rejoice lay. the window was open, and melody's voice came in like a wave of sound, filling the room with sweetness and life and joy. "it's like the foreign birds they tell about!" said miss rejoice, folding her thin hands, and settling herself on the pillow with an air of perfect content,--"nightingales, and skylarks, and all the birds in the poetry-books. what is she doing, vesta?" miss rejoice could see part of the yard from her bed. she could see the white lilac-bush, now a mass of snowy plumes, waving in the june breeze; she could see the road, and knew when any of the neighbors went to town or to meeting; but the corner from which the wonderful voice came thrilling and soaring was hidden from her. miss vesta peered out between the muslin curtains. "she's sitting on the steps," she said, "feeding the hens. it is wonderful, the way the creatures know her! that old top-knot hen, that never has a good word for anybody, is sitting in her lap almost. she says she understands their talk, and i really believe she does. 'tis certain none of them cluck, not a sound, while she's singing. 'tis a manner of marvel, to my mind." "it is so," assented miss rejoice, mildly. "there, sister! you said you had never heard her sing 'tara's harp.' do listen now!" both sisters were silent in delight. miss vesta stood at the window, leaning against the frame. she was tall, and straight as an arrow, though she was fifty years old. her snow-white hair was brushed straight up from her broad forehead; her blue eyes were keen and bright as a sword. she wore a black dress and a white apron; her hands showed the marks of years of serving, and of hard work of all kinds. no one would have thought that she and miss rejoice were sisters, unless he had surprised one of the loving looks that sometimes passed between them when they were alone together. the face that lay on the pillow was white and withered, like a crumpled white rose. the dark eyes had a pleading, wistful look, and were wonderfully soft withal. miss rejoice had white hair too, but it had a warm yellowish tinge, very different from the clear white of miss vesta's. it curled, too, in little ringlets round her beautiful old face. in short, miss vesta was splendidly handsome, while no one would think of calling miss rejoice anything but lovely. the younger sister lay always in bed. it was some thirty years since she met with the accident which changed her from a rosy, laughing girl into a helpless cripple. a party of pleasure,--gay lads and lasses riding together, careless of anything save the delight of the moment; a sudden leap of the horse, frightened at some obstacle; a fall, striking on a sharp stone,--this was miss rejoice's little story. people in the village had forgotten that there was any story; even her own contemporaries almost forgot that rejoice had ever been other than she was now. but miss vesta never forgot. she left her position in the neighboring town, broke off her engagement to the man she loved, and came home to her sister; and they had never been separated for a day since. once, when the bitter pain began to abate, and the sufferer could realize that she was still a living creature and not a condemned spirit, suffering for the sins of some one else (she had thought of all her own, and could not feel that they were bad enough to merit such suffering, if god was the person she supposed),--in those first days miss rejoice ventured to question her sister about her engagement. she was afraid--she did hope the breaking of it had nothing to do with her. "it has to do with myself!" said miss vesta, briefly, and nothing more was said. the sisters had lived their life together, without a thought save for each other, till melody came into their world. but here is melody at the door; she shall introduce herself. a girl of twelve years old, with a face like a flower. a broad white forehead, with dark hair curling round it in rings and tendrils as delicate as those of a vine; a sweet, steadfast mouth, large blue eyes, clear and calm under the long dark lashes, but with a something in them which makes the stranger turn to look at them again. he may look several times before he discovers the reason of their fixed, unchanging calm. the lovely mouth smiles, the exquisite face lights up with gladness or softens into sympathy or pity; but the blue eyes do not flash or soften, for melody is blind. she came into the room, walking lightly, with a firm, assured tread, which gave no hint of hesitation or uncertainty. "see, aunt joy," she said brightly, "here is the first rose. you were saying yesterday that it was time for cinnamon-roses; now here is one for you." she stooped to kiss the sweet white face, and laid the glowing blossom beside it. "thank you, dear," said miss rejoice; "i might have known you would find the first blossom, wherever it was. where was this, now? on the old bush behind the barn?" "not in our yard at all," replied the child, laughing. "the smell came to me a few minutes ago, and i went hunting for it. it was in mrs. penny's yard, right down by the fence, close, so you could hardly see it." "well, i never!" exclaimed miss vesta. "and she let you have it?" "of course," said the child. "i told her it was for aunt joy." "h'm!" said miss vesta. "martha penny doesn't suffer much from giving, as a rule, to aunt joy or anybody else. did she give it to you at the first asking, hey?" "now, vesta!" remonstrated miss rejoice, gently. "well, i want to know," persisted the elder sister. melody laughed softly. "not quite the first asking," she said. "she wanted to know if i thought she had no nose of her own. 'i didn't mean that,' said i; 'but i thought perhaps you wouldn't care for it quite as much as aunt joy would.' and when she asked why, i said, 'you don't sound as if you would.' was that rude, aunt vesta?" "humph!" said miss vesta, smiling grimly. "i don't know whether it was exactly polite, but martha penny wouldn't know the difference." the child looked distressed, and so did miss rejoice. "i am sorry," said melody. "but then mrs. penny said something so funny. 'well, gaffle onto it! i s'pose you're one of them kind as must always have what they want in this world. gaffle onto your rose, and go 'long! guess i might be sick enough before anybody 'ud get roses for me!' so i told her i would bring her a whole bunch of our white ones as soon as they were out, and told her how i always tried to get the first cinnamon-rose for aunt joy. she said, 'she ain't your aunt, nor mine either.' but she spoke kinder, and didn't seem cross any more; so i took the rose, and here it is." miss vesta was angry. a bright spot burned in her cheeks, and she was about to speak hastily; but miss rejoice raised a gentle hand, and motioned her to be silent. "martha penny has a sharp way, melody," said miss rejoice; "but she meant no unkindness, i think. the rose is very sweet," she added; "there are no other roses so sweet, to my mind. and how are the hens this morning, dearie?" the child clapped her hands, and laughed aloud. "oh, we have had such fun!" she cried. "top-knot was very cross at first, and would not let the young speckled hen eat out of the dish with her. so i took one under each arm, and sang and talked to them till they were both in a good humor. that made the plymouth rooster jealous, and he came and drove them both away, and had to have a petting all by himself. he is such a dear!" "you do spoil those hens, melody," said miss vesta, with an affectionate grumble. "do you suppose they'll eat any better for being talked to and sung to as if they were persons?" "poor dears!" said the child; "they ought to be happy while they do live, oughtn't they, auntie? is it time to make the cake now, aunt vesta, or shall i get my knitting, and sing to auntie joy a little?" at that moment a clear whistle was heard outside the house. "the doctor!" cried melody, her sightless face lighting up with a flash of joy. "i must go," and she ran quickly out to the gate. "now he'll carry her off," said miss vesta, "and we sha'n't see her again till dinner-time. you'd think she was his child, not ours. but so it is, in this world." "what has crossed you this morning, sister?" asked miss rejoice, mildly. "you seem put about." "oh, the cat got into the tea-kettle." replied the elder sister. "don't fret your blessed self if i am cross. i can't stand martha penny, that's all,--speaking so to that blessed child! i wish i had her here; she'd soon find out whether she had a nose or not. dear knows it's long enough! it isn't the first time i've had four parts of a mind to pull it for her." "why, vesta dale, how you do talk!" said miss rejoice, and then they both laughed, and miss vesta went out to scold the doctor. chapter ii. the doctor. the doctor sat in his buggy, leaning forward, and talking to the child. a florid, jovial-looking man, bright-eyed and deep-chested, with a voice like a trumpet, and a general air of being the west wind in person. he was not alone this time: another doctor sat beside him; and miss vesta smoothed her ruffled front at sight of the stranger. "good-morning, vesta," shouted the doctor, cheerily. "you came out to shoot me, because you thought i was coming to carry off melody, eh? you needn't say no, for i know your musket-shot expression. dr. anthony, let me present you to miss vesta dale,--a woman who has never had the grace to have a day's sickness since i have known her, and that's forty years at least." "miss dale is a fortunate woman," said dr. anthony, smiling. "have you many such constitutions in your practice, brown?" "i am fool enough to wish i had," growled dr brown. "that woman, sir, is enough to ruin any practice, with her pernicious example of disgusting health. how is rejoice this morning, vesta? does she want to see me?" miss vesta thought not, to-day; then followed questions and answers, searching on one side, careful and exact on the other; and then-- "i should like it if you could spare melody for half an hour this morning," said the doctor. "i want her to go down to phoebe jackson's to see little ned." "oh, what is the matter with ned?" cried melody, with a quick look of alarm. "tomfoolery is the principal matter with him, my dear," said dr. brown, grimly. "his eyes have been troubling him, you know, ever since he had the measles in the winter. i've kept one eye on the child, knowing that his mother was a perfect idiot, or rather, an imperfect one, which is worse. yesterday she sent for me in hot haste: ned was going blind, and would i please come that minute, and save the precious child, and oh, dear me, what should she do, and all the rest of it. i went down mad enough, i can tell you; found the child's eyes looking like a ploughed field. 'what have you been doing to this child, phffibe?' 'we-ell, doctor, his eyes has been kind o' bad along back, the last week. i did cal'late to send for you before; but one o' the neighbors was in, and she said to put molasses and tobacco-juice in them.' 'thunder and turf!' says i. 'what sa-ay?' says phoebe. ''n' then old mis' barker come in last night. you know she's had consid'able experi'nce with eyes, her own having been weakly, and all her children's after her. and _she_ said to try vitriol; but i kind o' thought i'd ask you first, doctor, so i waited till morning. and now his eyes look terrible, and he seems dretful 'pindlin'; oh, dear me, what shall i do if my poor little neddy goes blind?' 'do, madam?' i said. 'you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you and your tobacco-juice and molasses have made him blind. that's what you will do, and much good may it do you.'" "oh, doctor," cried melody, shrinking as if the words had been addressed to her, "how could you say that? but you don't think--you don't think ned will really be blind?" the child had grown very pale, and she leaned over the gate with clasped hands, in painful suspense. "no, i don't," replied the doctor. "i think he will come out all right; no thanks to his mother if he does. but it was necessary to frighten the woman, melody, for fright is the only thing that makes an impression on a fool. now, i want you to run down there, like a good child; that is, if your aunts can spare you. run down and comfort the little fellow, who has been badly scared by the clack of tongues and the smarting of the tobacco-juice. imbeciles! cods' heads! scooped-out pumpkins!" exclaimed the doctor, in a sudden frenzy. "a--i don't mean that. comfort him up, child, and sing to him and tell him about jack-and-the-beanstalk. you'll soon bring him round, i'll warrant. but stop," he added, as the child, after touching miss vesta's hand lightly, and making and receiving i know not what silent communication, turned toward the house,--"stop a moment, melody. my friend dr. anthony here is very fond of music, and he would like to hear you sing just one song. are you in singing trim this morning?" the child laughed. "i can always sing, of course," she said simply. "what song would you like, doctor?" "oh, the best," said dr. brown. "give us 'annie laurie.'" the child sat down on a great stone that stood beside the gate. it was just under the white lilac-bush, and the white clusters bent lovingly down over her, and seemed to murmur with pleasure as the wind swept them lightly to and fro. miss vesta said something about her bread, and gave an uneasy glance toward the house, but she did not go in; the window was open, and rejoice could hear; and after all, bread was not worth so much as "annie laurie." melody folded her hands lightly on her lap, and sang. dr. brown thought "annie laurie" the most beautiful song in the world; certainly it is one of the best beloved. ever since it was first written and sung (who knows just when that was? "anonymous" is the legend that stands in the song-books beside this familiar title. we do not know the man's name, cannot visit the place where he wrote and sang, and made music for all coming generations of english-speaking people; can only think of him as a kind friend, a man of heart and genius as surely as if his name stood at the head of unnumbered symphonies and fugues),--ever since it was first sung, i say, men and women and children have loved this song. we hear of its being sung by camp-fires, on ships at sea, at gay parties of pleasure. was it not at the siege of lucknow that it floated like a breath from home through the city hell-beset, and brought cheer and hope and comfort to all who heard it? the cotter's wife croons it over her sleeping baby; the lover sings it to his sweetheart; the child runs, carolling it, through the summer fields; finally, some world-honored prima-donna, some patti or nilsson, sings it as the final touch of perfection to a great feast of music, and hearts swell and eyes overflow to find that the nursery song of our childhood is a world-song, immortal in freshness and beauty. but i am apt to think that no lover, no tender mother, no splendid italian or noble swede, could sing "annie laurie" as melody sang it. sitting there in her simple cotton dress, her head thrown slightly back, her hands folded, her eyes fixed in their unchanging calm, she made a picture that the stranger never forgot. he started as the first notes of her voice stole forth, and hung quivering on the air,-- "maxwellton braes are bonnie, where early fa's the dew." what wonder was this? dr. anthony had come prepared to hear, he quite knew what,--a child's voice, pretty, perhaps, thin and reedy, nasal, of course. his good friend brown was an excellent physician, but with no knowledge of music; how should he have any, living buried in the country, twenty miles from a railway, forty miles from a concert? brown had said so much about the blind child that it would have been discourteous for him, dr. anthony, to refuse to see and hear her when he came to pass a night with his old college chum; but his assent had been rather wearily given: dr. anthony detested juvenile prodigies. but what was this? a voice full and round as the voices of italy; clear as a bird's; swelling ever richer, fuller, rising in tones so pure, so noble, that the heart of the listener ached, as the poet's heart at hearing the nightingale, with almost painful pleasure. amazement and delight made dr. anthony's face a study, which his friend perused with keen enjoyment. he knew, good dr. brown, that he himself was a musical nobody; he knew pretty well (what does a doctor not know?) what anthony was thinking as they drove along. but he knew melody too; and he rubbed his hands, and chuckled inwardly at the discomfiture of his knowing friend. the song died away; and the last notes were like those of the skylark when she sinks into her nest at sunset. the listeners drew breath, and looked at each other. there was a brief silence, and then, "thank you, melody," said dr. brown. "that's the finest song in the world, i don't care what the next is. now run along, like my good maid, and sing it to neddy jackson, and he will forget all about his eyes, and turn into a great pair of ears." the child laughed. "neddy will want 'the british grenadier,'" she said. "that is _his_ greatest song." she ran into the house to kiss miss rejoice, came out with her sun-bonnet tied under her chin, and lifted her face to kiss miss vesta. "i sha'n't be gone long, auntie," she said brightly. "there'll be plenty of time to make the cake after dinner." miss vesta smoothed the dark hair with a motherly touch. "doctor doesn't care anything about our cake," she said; "he isn't coming to tea to-night. i suppose you'd better stay as long as you're needed. i should not want the child to fret." "good-by, doctor," cried the child, joyously, turning her bright face toward the buggy. "good-by, sir," making a little courtesy to dr. anthony, who gravely took off his hat and bowed as if to a duchess. "good-by again, dear auntie;" and singing softly to herself, she walked quickly away. dr. anthony looked after her, silent for a while. "blind from birth?" he asked presently. "from birth," replied dr. brown. "no hope; i've had strong down to see her. but she's the happiest creature in the world, i do believe. how does she sing?" he asked with ill-concealed triumph. "pretty well for a country child, eh?" "she sings like an angel," said dr. anthony,--"like an angel from heaven." "she has a right to, sir," said miss vesta, gravely. "she is a child of god, who has never forgotten her father." dr. anthony turned toward the speaker, whom he had almost forgotten in his intense interest in the child. "this lovely child is your own niece, madam?" he inquired. "she must be unspeakably dear to you." miss vesta flushed. she did not often speak as she had just done, being a new england woman; but "annie laurie" always carried her out of herself, she declared. the answer to the gentleman's question was one she never liked to make. "she is not my niece in blood," she said slowly. "we are single women, my sister and i; but she is like our own daughter to us." "twelve years this very month, vesta, isn't it," said dr. brown, kindly, "since the little one came to you? do you remember what a wild night it was?" miss vesta nodded. "i hear the wind now when i think of it," she said. "the child is an orphan," the doctor continued, turning to his friend. "her mother was a young irish woman, who came here looking for work. she was poor, her husband dead, consumption on her, and so on, and so on. she died at the poorhouse, and left this blind baby. tell dr. anthony how it happened, vesta." miss vesta frowned and blushed. she wished doctor would remember that his friend was a stranger to her. but in a moment she raised her head. "there's nothing to be ashamed of, after all," she said, a little proudly. "i don't know why i should not tell you, sir. i went up to the poor-farm one evening, to carry a basket of strawberries. we had a great quantity, and i thought some of the people up there might like them, for they had few luxuries, though i don't believe they ever went hungry. and when i came there, mrs. green, who kept the farm then, came out looking all in a maze. 'did you ever hear of such a thing in your life?' she cried out, the minute she set eyes on me. 'i don't know, i'm sure,' said i. 'perhaps i did, and perhaps i didn't. how's the baby that poor soul left?' i said. it was two weeks since the mother died; and to tell the truth, i went up about as much to see how the child was getting on as to take the strawberries, though i don't know that i realized it till this very minute." she smiled grimly, and went on. "'that's just it,' mrs. green screams out, right in my face. 'dr. brown has just been here, and he says the child is blind, and will be blind all her days, and we've got to bring her up; and i'd like to know if i haven't got enough to do without feedin' blind children?' i just looked at her. 'i don't know that a deaf woman would be much better than a blind child,' said i; 'so i'll thank you to speak like a human being, liza green, and not scream at me. aren't you ashamed?' i said. 'the child can't help being blind, i suppose. poor little lamb! as if it hadn't enough, with no father nor mother in the world.' 'i don't care,' says liza, crazy as ever; 'i can't stand it. i've got all i can stand now, with a feeble-minded boy and two so old they can't feed themselves. that polly is as crazy as a loon, and the rest is so shif'less it loosens all my j'ints to look at 'em. i won't stand no more, for dr. brown nor anybody else.' and she set her hands on her hips and stared at me as if she'd like to eat me, sun-bonnet and all. 'let me see the child,' i said. i went in, and there it lay,--the prettiest creature you ever saw in your life, with its eyes wide open, just as they are now, and the sweetest look on its little face. well, there, you'd know it came straight from heaven, if you saw it in--well, i don't know exactly what i'm saying. you must excuse me, sir!" and miss vesta paused in some confusion. "'somebody ought to adopt it,' said i. 'it's a beautiful child; any one might be proud of it when it grew up.' 'i guess when you find anybody that would adopt a blind child, you'll find the cat settin' on hen's eggs,' said liza green. i sat and held the child a little while, trying to think of some one who would be likely to take care of it; but i couldn't think of any one, for as she said, so it was. by and by i kissed the poor little pretty thing, and laid it back in its cradle, and tucked it up well, though it was a warm night. 'you'll take care of that child, liza,' i said, 'as long as it stays with you, or i'll know the reason why. there are plenty of people who would like the work here, if you're tired of it,' i said. she quieted down at that, for she knew that a word from me would set the doctor to thinking, and he wasn't going to have that blind child slighted, well i knew. well, sir, i came home, and told rejoice." "her sister," put in dr. brown,--"a crippled saint, been in her bed thirty years. she and melody keep a small private heaven, and vesta is the only sinner admitted." "doctor, you're very profane," said miss vesta, reprovingly. "i've never seen my sister rejoice angry, sir, except that one time, when i told her. 'where is the child?' she says. 'why, where do you suppose?' said i. 'in its cradle, of course. i tucked it up well before i came away, and she won't dare to mistreat it for one while,' i said. 'go and get it!' says my sister rejoice. 'how dared you come home without it? go and get it this minute, do you hear?' i stared as if i had seen a vision. 'rejoice, what are you thinking of?' i asked. 'bring that child here? why, what should we do with it? i can't take care of it, nor you either.' my sister turned the color of fire. 'no one else shall take care of it,' she says, as if she was bunker hill monument on a pillow. 'go and get it this minute, vesta. don't wait; the lord must not be kept waiting. go, i tell you!' she looked so wild i was fairly frightened; so i tried to quiet her. i thought her mind was touched, some way. 'well, i'll go to-morrow,' says i, soothing her; 'i couldn't go now, anyhow, rejoice. just hear it rain and blow! it came on just as i stepped inside the door, and it's a regular storm now. be quiet,' i said, 'and i'll go up in the morning and see about it.' my sister sat right up in the bed. 'you'll go now,' she says, 'or i'll go myself. now, this living minute! quick!' i went, sir. the fire in her eyes would have scorched me if i had looked at it a minute longer. i thought she was coming out of the bed after me,--she, who had not stirred for twenty years. i caught up a shawl, threw another over my shoulders, and ran for the poor-farm. 't was a perfect tempest, but i never felt it. something seemed to drive me, as if it was a whip laid across my shoulders. i thought it was my sister's eyes, that had never looked hard at me since she was born; but maybe it was something else besides. they say there are no miracles in these days, but we don't know everything yet. i ran in at the farm, before them all, dripping, looking like a maniac, i don't doubt. i caught up the child out of the cradle, and wrapped it in the shawl i'd brought, and ran off again before they'd got their eyes shut from staring at me as if i was a spirit of evil. how my breath held out, don't ask me; but i got home, and ran into the chamber, and laid the child down by the side of my sister rejoice." miss vesta paused, and the shadow of a great awe crept into her keen blue eyes. "the poor-farm was struck by lightning that night!" she said. "the cradle where that baby was lying was shattered into kindling-wood, and liza green has never been the same woman from that day to this." chapter iii. on the road. melody went singing down the road. she walked quickly, with a light swaying motion, graceful as a bird. her hands were held before her, not, it seemed, from timidity, but rather as a butterfly stretches out its delicate antennae, touching, feeling, trying its way, as it goes from flower to flower. truly, the child's light fingers were like butterflies, as she walked beside the road, reaching up to touch the hanging sprays of its bordering willows, or caressing the tiny flowers that sprang up along the footpath. she sang, too, as she went, a song the doctor had taught her:-- "who is silvia, and what is she, that all our swains commend her? holy, fair, and wise is she; the heavens such grace did lend her, that adored she might be." one might have thought that silvia was not far to seek, on looking into the fair face of the child. now she stopped, and stood for a moment with head thrown back, and nostrils slightly distended. "meadow-sweet!" she said softly to herself. "isn't it out early? the dear. i must find it for aunt joy." she stooped, and passed her light, quick hands over the wayside grasses. every blade and leaf was a familiar friend, and she greeted them as she touched them, weaving their names into her song in childish fashion,-- "buttercup and daisy dear, sorrel for her eating, mint and rose to please the nose of my pretty sweeting." then she laughed outright. "when i grow up, i will make songs, too," she said, as she stooped to pick the meadow-sweet. "i will make the words, and rosin shall make the music; and we will go through the village singing, till everybody comes out of the houses to listen:-- meadow-sweet is a treat; columbine's a fairy; mallow's fine, sweet as wine,-- what rhymes with fairy, i wonder. dairy; but that won't come right. airy, hairy,--yes, now i have it!-- mallow's fine, sweet as wine, to feed my pet canary. i'll sing that to neddy," said melody, laughing to herself as she went along. "i can sing it to the tune of 'lightly row.' dear little boy!" she added, after a silence. "think, if he had been blind, how dreadful it would have been! of course it doesn't matter when you have never seen at all, because you know how to get on all right; but to have it, and then lose it--oh dear! but then,"--and her face brightened again,--"he _isn't_ going to be blind, you see, so what's the use of worrying about it? the worry cow might have lived till now, if she'd only saved her breath. she thought the hay wouldn't last all day, so she choked herself to death." presently the child stopped again, and listened. the sound of wheels was faintly audible. no one else could have heard it but melody, whose ears were like those of a fox. "whose wagon squeaks like that?" she said, as she listened. "the horse interferes, too. oh, of course; it's eben loomis. he'll pick me up and give me a ride, and then it won't take so long." she walked along, turning back every now and then, as the sound of wheels came nearer and nearer. at last, "good-morning, eben!" she cried, smiling as the wagon drove up; "will you take me on a piece, please?" "wal, i might, perhaps," admitted the driver, cautiously, "if i was sure you was all right, mel'dy. how d'you know't was me comin', i'd like to know? i never said a word, nor so much as whistled, since i come in sight of ye." the man, a wiry, yellow-haired yankee, bent down as he spoke, and taking the child's hand, swung her lightly up to the seat beside him. melody laughed joyously. "i should know your wagon if i heard it in russia, eben," she said. "besides, poor old jerry knocks his hind feet together so, i heard him clicking along even before i heard the wagon squeak. how's mandy, eben?" "mandy, she ain't very well," replied the countryman. "she's ben havin' them weakly spells right along lately. seems though she was failin' up sometimes, but i dono." "oh, no, she isn't, eben," answered melody, cheerfully. "you said that six years ago, do you know it? and mandy isn't a bit worse than she was then." "well, that's so," assented the man, after a thoughtful pause. "that is so, mel'dy, though how you come to-know it is a myst'ry to me. come to think of it, i dono but she's a leetle mite better than she was six years ago. wal! now it's surprising ain't it, that you should know that, you child, without the use of your eyes, and i shouldn't, seein' her every day and all day? how do you account for that, now, hey?" he turned on his seat, and looked keenly at the child, as if half expecting her to meet his gaze. "it's easy enough!" said melody, with her quiet smile. "it's just because you see her so much, eben, that you can't tell. besides, i can tell from mandy's voice. her voice used to go down when she stopped speaking, like this, 'how do you _do_?' [with a falling inflection which was the very essence of melancholy]; and now her voice goes up cheerfully, at the end, 'how do you do?' don't you see the difference, eben?--so of course i know she must be a great deal better." "i swan!" replied eben loomis, simply. "'how do you _do_?' '_how_ do you do?' so that's the way you find out things, is it, mel'dy? well, you're a curus child, that's what's the matter with you.--where d'you say you was goin'?" he added, after a pause. "i didn't say," said melody. "but i'm going to mrs. jackson's, to see neddy." "want to know," said her companion. "goin'--hevin' some kind o' trouble with his eyes, ain't he?" he stopped short, with a glance at the child's clear eyes. it was impossible not to expect to find some answering look in them. "they thought he was going blind," said melody; "but it is all right now. i do wish people wouldn't tell mrs. jackson to keep putting things in his eyes. why can't they let her do what the doctor tells her, and not keep wanting her to try all kinds of nonsense?" "wal, that's so," assented eben,--"that's so, every time. i was down there a spell back, and i says, 'phoebe,' i says, 'don't you do a thing folks tells you,' says i. 'dr. brown knows what he's about, and don't you do a thing but what he says, unless it's jest to wet his eyes up with a drop o' tobacco-juice,' says i. 'there's nothin' like tobacco-juice for weakly eyes, that's sure;' and of course i knew doctor would ha' said so himself ef he'd ha' been there. wal, here we be to jackson's now," added the good man, pulling up his horse. "hold on a minute, and i'll help ye down. wal, there!" as melody sprang lightly from the wagon, just touching his hand by way of greeting as she went, "if you ain't the spryest ever i see!" "good-by, eben, and thank you ever so much," said the child. "good-by, jerry." "come down an' see us, mel'dy!" eben called after her, as she turned toward-the house with unfaltering step. "t'would do mandy a sight o' good. come down and stop to supper. you ain't took a meal o' victuals with us i don't know when." melody promised to come soon, and took her way up the grassy path, while the countryman gazed after her with a look of wondering admiration. "that child knows more than most folks that hev their sight!" he soliloquized. "what's she doin' now? oh, stoppin' to pick a posy, for the child, likely. now they'll all swaller her alive. yes; thar they come. look at the way she takes that child up, now, will ye? he's e'en a'most as big as she is; but you'd say she was his mother ten times over, from the way she handles him. look at her set down on the doorstep, tellin' him a story, i'll bet. i tell ye! hear that little feller laugh, and he was cryin' all last night, mandy says. i wouldn't mind hearin' that story myself. faculty, that gal has; that's the name for it, sir. git up, jerry! this won't buy the child a cake;" and with many a glance over his shoulder, the good man drove on. chapter iv. rosin the beau. the afternoon light was falling soft and sweet, as an old man came slowly along the road that led to the village. he was tall and thin, and he stooped as he walked,--not with the ordinary round-shouldered slouch, but with a one-sided droop, as if he had a habit of bending over something. his white hair was fancifully arranged, with a curl over the forehead such as little boys used to wear; his brown eyes were bright and quick as a bird's, and like a bird's, they glanced from side to side, taking in everything. he carried an oblong black box, evidently a violin-case, at which he cast an affectionate look from time to time. as he approached the village, his glances became more and more keenly intelligent. he seemed to be greeting a friend in every tree, in every straggling rose-bush along the roadside; he nodded his head, and spoke softly from time to time. "getting on now," he said to himself. "here's the big rose-bush she was sitting under, the last time i came along. nobody here now; but she'll be coming directly, up from the ground or down from the sky, or through a hole in the sunset. do you remember how she caught her little gown on that fence-rail?" he bent over, and seemed to address his violin. "sat down and took out her needle and thread, and mended it as neat as any woman; and then ran her butterfly hands over me, and found the hole in my coat, and called me careless boy, and mended that. yes, yes; rosin remembers every place where he saw his girl. old rosin remembers. there's the turn; now it's getting time for to be playing our tune, sending our letter of introduction along the road before us. hey?" he sat down under a spreading elder-bush, and proceeded to open his violin-case. drawing out the instrument with as much care as if he were a mother taking her babe from the cradle, he looked it all over with anxious scrutiny, scanning every line and crack, as the mother scans face and hands and tiny curled-up feet. finding all in order, he wiped it with a silk handkerchief (the special property of the instrument; a cotton one did duty for himself), polished it, and tuned it, and polished again. "must look well, my beauty," he murmured; "must look well. not a speck of dust but she'd feel it with those little fingers, you know. ready now? well, then, speak up for your master; speak, voice of my heart! 'a welcome for rosin the beau.' ask for it, music!" do people still play "rosin the beau," i wonder? i asked a violinist to play it to me the other day, and he had never heard of the tune. he played me something else, which he said was very fine,--a fantasia in e flat, i think it was; but i did not care for it. i wanted to hear "rosin the beau," the cradle-song of the fiddle,--the sweet, simple, foolish old song, which every "blind crowder" who could handle a fiddle-bow could play in his sleep fifty years ago, and which is now wellnigh forgotten. it is not a beautiful air; it may have no merit at all, musically speaking; but i love it well, and wish i might hear it occasionally instead of the odious "carnival of venice," which tortures my ears and wastes my nervous system at every concert where the queen of instruments holds her court. the old man took up his fiddle, and laid his cheek lovingly against it. a moment he stood still, as if holding silent commune with the spirit of music, the tricksy ariel imprisoned in the old wooden case; then he began to play "rosin the beau." as he played, he kept his eyes fixed on the bend of the road some rods ahead, as if expecting every moment to see some one appear from the direction of the village. "i've travelled this country all over, and now to the next i must go; but i know that good quarters await me, and a welcome for rosin the beau." as he played, with bold but tender touch, the touch of a master, round the corner a figure came flying,--a child's figure, with hair all afloat, and arms wide-opened. the old man's face lightened, softened, became transfigured with joy and love; but he said no word, only played steadily on. "rosin!" cried melody, stopping close before him, with outstretched arms. "stop, rosin; i want to kiss you, and i am afraid of hurting her. put her down, do you hear?" she stamped her foot imperiously, and the old man laid the fiddle down and held out his arms in turn. "melody," he said tenderly, taking the child on his knee,--"little melody, how are you? so you heard old rosin, did you? you knew the old man was here, waiting for his little maid to come and meet him, as she always has. where were you, melody? tell me, now. i didn't seem to hear you till just as you came to the corner; i didn't, now." "i was down by the heater-piece," said the child. "i went to look for wild strawberries, with aunt vesta. i heard you, rosin, the moment you laid your bow across her; but aunt vesta said no, she knew it was all nonsense, and we'd better finish our strawberries, anyhow. and then i heard that you wondered why i didn't come, and that you wanted me, and i kissed auntie, and just flew. you heard how fast i was coming, when you did hear me; didn't you, rosin dear?" "i heard," said the old man, smoothing her curls back. "i knew you'd come, you see, jewel, soon as you could get here. and how are the good ladies, hey; and how are you yourself?--though i can tell that by looking at you, sure enough." "do i look well?" asked the child, with much interest. "is my hair very nice and curly, rosin, and do my eyes still look as if they were real eyes?" she looked up so brightly that any stranger would have been startled into thinking that she could really see. "bright as dollars, they are," assented the old man. "dollars? no, that's no name for it. the stars are nearest it, melody. and your hair--" "my hair is like sweet alice's," said the child, confidently,--"sweet alice, whose hair was so brown. i promised auntie joy we would sing that for her, the very next time you came, but i never thought you would be here to-day, rosin. 'where have you been, my long, long love, this seven long years and more?' that's a ballad, rosin; doctor taught it to me. it is a beauty, and you must make me a tune for it. but where _have_ you been?" "i've been up and down the earth," the old man replied,--"up and down the earth, melody. sometimes here and sometimes there. i'd feel a call here, and i'd feel a call there; and i seemed to be wanted, generally, just in those very places i'd felt called to. do you believe in calls, melody?" "of course i do," replied the child, promptly. "only all the people who call you can't get you, rosin, 'cause you'd be in fifty pieces if they did." she laughed joyously, throwing her head back with the birdlike, rapturous motion which seemed the very expression of her nature. the old fiddler watched her with delight. "you shall hear all my stories," he said; "everything you shall hear, little melody; but here we are at the house now, and i must make my manners to the ladies." he paused, and looked critically at his blue coat, which, though threadbare, was scrupulously clean. he flecked some imaginary dust from his trousers, and ran his hand lightly through his hair, bringing the snowy curl which was the pride of his heart a little farther over his forehead. "now i'll do, maybe," he said cheerfully. "and sure enough, there's miss vesta in the doorway, looking like a china rose in full bloom." he advanced, hat in hand, with a peculiar sliding step, which instantly suggested "chassez across to partners." "miss vesta, i hope your health's good?" miss vesta held out her hand cordially. "why, mr. de arthenay, [footnote: pronounced dee arthenay] is this you?" she cried. "this is a pleasure! melody was sure it was you, and she ran off like a will-o'-the-wisp, when i could not hear a sound. but i'm very glad to see you. we were saying only yesterday how long a time it was since you'd been here. now you must sit down, and tell us all the news. stop, though," she added, with a glance at the vine-clad window; "rejoice would like to see you, and hear the news too. wait a moment, mr. de arthenay! i'll go in and move her up by the window, so that she can hear you." she hastened into the house; and in a few minutes the blinds were thrown back, and miss rejoice's sweet voice was heard, saying, "good-day, mr. de arthenay. it is always a good day that brings you." the old man sprang up from his seat in the porch, and made a low bow to the window. "it's a treat to hear your voice, miss rejoice, so it is," he said heartily. "i hope your health's been pretty good lately? it seems to me your voice sounds stronger than it did the last time i was here." "oh, i'm very well," responded the invalid, cheerfully. "very well, i feel this summer; don't i, vesta? and where have you been, mr. de arthenay, all this time? i'm sure you have a great deal to tell us. it's as good as a newspaper when you come along, we always say." the old fiddler cleared his throat, and settled himself comfortably in a corner of the porch, with melody's hand in his. miss vesta produced her knitting; melody gave a little sigh of perfect content, and nestled up to her friend's side, leaning her head against his shoulder. "begin to tell now, rosin," she said. "tell us all that you know." "tell you everything," he repeated thoughtfully. "not all, little melody. i've seen some things that you wouldn't like to hear about,--things that would grieve your tender heart more than a little. we will not talk about those; but i have seen bright things too, sure enough. why, only day before yesterday i was at a wedding, over in pegrum; a pretty wedding it was too. you remember myra bassett, miss vesta?" "to be sure i do," replied miss vesta. "she married john andrews, her father's second cousin once removed. don't tell me that myra has a daughter old enough to be married: or is it a son? either way, it is ridiculous." "a daughter!" said the old man,--"the prettiest girl in pegrum. like a ripe chestnut, more than anything. two lads were in love with her; there may have been a dozen, but these two i know about. one of them--i'll name no names, 'tis kinder not--found that she wanted to marry a hero (what girl does not?), so he thought he would try his hand at heroism. there was a picnic this spring, and he hired a boy (or so the boy says--it may be wicked gossip) to upset the boat she was in, so that he, the lover, might save her life. but, lo and behold! he was taken with a cramp in the water, and was almost drowned, and the second lover jumped in, and saved them both. so she married the second (whom she had liked all along), and then the boy told his story." "miserable sneak!" ejaculated miss vesta. "to risk the life of the woman he pretended to love, just to show himself off." "still, i am sorry for him!" said miss rejoice, through the window. (miss rejoice was always sorry for wrongdoers, much sorrier than for the righteous who suffered. _they_ would be sure to get good out of it, she said, but the poor sinners generally didn't know how.) "what did he do, poor soul?" "he went away!" replied the fiddler. "pegrum wouldn't hold him; and the other lad was a good shot, and went about with a shot-gun. but i was going to tell you about the wedding." "of course!" cried melody. "what did the bride wear? that is the most important part." de arthenay cleared his throat, and looked grave. he always made a point of remembering the dresses at weddings, and was proud of the accomplishment,--a rare one in his sex. "miss andrews--i beg her pardon, mrs. nelson--had on a white muslin gown, made quite full, with three ruffles round the skirt. there was lace round the neck, but i cannot tell you what kind, except that it was very soft and fine. she had white roses on the front of her gown, and in her hair, and pink ones in her cheeks; her eyes were like brown diamonds, and she had little white satin slippers, for all the world like cinderella. they were a present from her grandmother anstey, over at bow mills. her other grandmother, mrs. bowen, gave her the dress, so her father and mother could lay out all they wanted to on the supper; and a handsome supper it was. then after supper they danced. it would have done your heart good, miss vesta, to see that little bride dance. ah! she is a pretty creature. there was another young woman, too, who played the piano. kate, they called her, but i don't know what her other name was. anyway, she had an eye like black lightning stirred up with a laugh, and a voice like the 'fisherman's hornpipe.'" he took up his fiddle, and softly, delicately, played a few bars of that immortal dance. it rippled like a woman's laugh, and melody smiled in instant sympathy. "i wish i had seen her," she cried. "did she play well, rosin?" "she played so that i knew she must be either french or irish!" the fiddler replied. "no yankee ever played dance-music in that fashion; i made bold to say to her, as we were playing together, 'etes-vous compatriote?' "'more power to your elbow,' said she, with a twinkle of her eye, and she struck into 'saint patrick's day in the morning.' i took it up, and played the 'marseillaise,' over it and under it, and round it,--for an accompaniment, you understand, melody; and i can tell you, we made the folks open their eyes. yes; she was a fine young lady, and it was a fine wedding altogether. "but i am forgetting a message i have for you, ladies. last week i was passing through new joppa, and i stopped to call on miss lovina green; i always stop there when i go through that region. miss lovina asked me to tell you--let me see! what was it?" he paused, to disentangle this particular message from the many he always carried, in his journeyings from one town to another. "oh, yes, i remember. she wanted you to know that her uncle reuel was dead, and had left her a thousand dollars, so she should be comfortable the rest of her days. she thought you'd be glad to know it." "that is good news!" exclaimed miss vesta, heartily. "poor lovina! she has been so straitened all these years, and saw no prospect of anything better. the best day's work reuel green has ever done was to die and leave that money to lovina." "why, vesta!" said miss rejoice's soft voice; "how you do talk!" "well, it's true!" miss vesta replied. "and you know it, rejoice, my dear, as well as i do. any other news in joppa, mr. de arthenay? i haven't heard from over there for a long time." "why, they've been having some robberies in joppa," the old man said,--"regular burglaries. there's been a great excitement about it. several houses have been entered and robbed, some of money, others of what little silver there was, though i don't suppose there is enough silver in all new joppa to support a good, healthy burglar for more than a few days. the funny part of it is that though i have no house, i came very near being robbed myself." "you, rosin?" "you, mr. de arthenay? do tell us!" melody passed her hand rapidly over the old man's face, and then settled back with her former air of content, knowing that all was well. "you shall hear my story," the old man said, drawing himself up, and giving his curl a toss. "it was the night i came away from joppa. i had been taking tea with william bradwell's folks, and stayed rather late in the evening, playing for the young folks, singing old songs, and one thing and another. it was ten o'clock when i said good-night and stepped out of the house and along the road. 't was a fine night, bright moonlight, and everything shining like silver. i'd had a pleasant evening, and i felt right cheered up as i passed along, sometimes talking a bit to the lady, and sometimes she to me; for i'd left her case at the house, seeing i should pass by again in the morning, when i took my way out of the place. "well, sir,--i beg your pardon; _ladies_, i should say,--as i came along a strip of the road with the moon full on it, but bordered with willow scrub,--as i came along, sudden a man stepped out of those bushes, and told me to stand and throw up my hands.--don't be frightened, melody," for the child had taken his hand with a quick, frightened motion; "have no fear at all! i had none. i saw, or felt, perhaps it was, that he had no pistols; that he was only a poor sneak and bully. so i said, 'stand yourself!' i stepped clear out, so that the light fell full on my face, and i looked him in the eye, and pointed my bow at him. 'my name is de arthenay,' i said. 'i am of french extraction, but i hail from the androscoggin. i am known in this country. this is my fiddle-bow; and if you are not gone before i can count three, i'll shoot you with it. one!' i said; but i didn't need to count further. he turned and ran, as if the--as if a regiment was after him; and as soon as i had done laughing, i went on my way to the tavern." all laughed heartily at the old man's story; but when the laughter subsided, melody begged him to take "the lady," and play for her. "i have not heard you play for so long, rosin, except just when you called me." "yes, mr. de arthenay," said miss vesta, "do play a little for us, while i get supper. suppose i bring the table out here, melody; how would you like that?" "oh, so much!" cried the child, clapping her hands. "so very much! let me help!" she started up; and while the fiddler played, old sweet melodies, such as miss rejoice loved, there was a pleasant, subdued bustle of coming and going, clinking and rustling, as the little table was brought out and set in the vine-wreathed porch, the snowy cloth laid, and the simple feast set forth. there were wild strawberries, fresh and glowing, laid on vine-leaves; there were biscuits so light it seemed as if a puff of wind might blow them away; there were twisted doughnuts, and coffee brown and as clear as a mountain brook. it was a pleasant little feast; and the old fiddler glanced with cheerful approval over the table as he sat down. "ah, miss vesta," he said, as he handed the biscuits gallantly to his hostess, "there's no such table as this for me to sit down to, wherever i go, far or near. look at the biscuit, now,--moulded snow, i call them. take one, melody, my dear. you'll never get anything better to eat in this world." the child flushed with pleasure. "you're praising her too much to herself," said miss vesta, with a pleased smile. "melody made those biscuit, all herself, without any help. she's getting to be such a good housekeeper, mr. de arthenay, you would not believe it." "you don't tell me that she made these biscuit!" cried the old man. "why, melody, i shall be frightened at you if you go on at this rate. you are not growing up, are you, little melody?" "no! no! no!" cried the child, vehemently. "i am _not_ growing up, rosin. i don't want to grow up, ever, at all." "i should like to know what you can do about it," said miss vesta, smiling grimly. "you'll have to stop pretty short if you are not going to grow up, melody. if i have let your dresses down once this spring, i've let them down three times. you're going to be a tall woman, i should say, and you've a right good start toward it now." a shade stole over the child's bright face, and she was silent,--seeming only half to listen while the others chatted, yet never forgetting to serve them, and seeming, by a touch on the hand of either friend, to know what was wanted. when the meal was over, and the tea-things put away, melody came out again into the porch, where the fiddler sat smoking his pipe, and leaning against one of the supports, felt among the leaves which hid it. "here is the mark!" she said. "am i really taller, rosin? really much taller?" "what troubles the child?" the old man asked gently. "she does not want to grow? the bud must open, melody, my dear! the bud must open!" "but it's so unreasonable," cried melody, as she stood holding by the old man's hand, swaying lightly to and fro, as if the wind moved her with the vines and flowers. "why can't i stay a little girl? a little girl is needed here, isn't she? and there is no need at all of another woman. i can't be like aunt vesta or auntie joy; so i think i might stay just melody." then shaking her curls back, she cried, "well, anyhow, i am just melody now, and nothing more; and i mean to make the most of it. come, rosin, come! i am ready for music. the dishes are all washed, and there's nothing more to do, is there, auntie? it is so long since rosin has been here; now let us have a good time, a perfect time!" de arthenay took up his fiddle once more, and caressed its shining curves. "she's in perfect trim," he said tenderly. "she's fit to play with you to-night, melody. come, i am ready; what shall we have?" melody sat down on the little green bench which was her own particular seat. she folded her hands lightly on her lap, and threw her head back with her own birdlike gesture. one would have said that she was calling the spirit of song, which might descend on rainbow wings, and fold her in his arms. the old man drew the bow softly, and the fiddle gave out a low, brooding note,--a note of invitation. "oh, don't you remember sweet alice, ben bolt? sweet alice, whose hair was so brown? she wept with delight when you gave her a smile, and trembled with fear at your frown." softly the old man played, keeping his eyes fixed on the child, whose glorious voice floated out on the evening air, filling the whole world with sweetest melody. miss vesta dropped her knitting and folded her hands, while a peaceful, dreamy look stole into her fine face,--a face whose only fault was the too eager look which a new england woman must so often gain, whether she will or no. in the quiet chamber, the bedridden woman lay back on her pillows smiling, with a face as the face of an angel. her thoughts were lifted up on the wings of the music, and borne--who shall say where, to what high and holy presence? perhaps--who can tell?--the eyes of her soul looked in at the gate of heaven itself; if it were so, be sure they saw nothing within that white portal more pure and clear than their own gaze. and still the song flowed on. presently doors began to open along the village street. people came softly out, came on tiptoe toward the cottage, and with a silent greeting to its owner sat down beside the road to listen. children came dancing, with feet almost as light as melody's own, and curled themselves up beside her on the grass. tired-looking mothers came, with their babies in their arms; and the weary wrinkles faded from their faces, and they listened in silent content, while the little ones, who perhaps had been fretting and complaining a moment before, nestled now quietly against the mother-breast, and felt that no one wanted to tease or ill-treat them, but that the world was all full of mother, who loved them. beside one of these women a man came and sat him down, as if from habit; but he did not look at her. his face wore a weary, moody frown, and he stared at the ground sullenly, taking no note of any one. the others looked at one another and nodded, and thought of the things they knew; the woman cast a sidelong glance at him, half hopeful, half fearful, but made no motion. "oh, don't you remember the school, ben bolt, and the master so kind and so true; and the little nook by the clear running brook, where we gathered the flowers as they grew?" the dark-browed man listened, and thought. her name was alice, this woman by his side. they had been schoolmates together, had gathered flowers, oh, how many times, by brook-side and hill. they had grown up to be lovers, and she was his wife, sitting here now beside him,--his wife, with his baby in her arms; and he had not spoken to her for a week. what began it all? he hardly knew; but she had been provoking, and he had been tired, impatient; there had been a great scene, and then this silence, which he swore he would not break. how sad she looked! he thought, as he stole a glance at the face bending over the child. "oh, don't you remember sweet alice, ben bolt, sweet alice, whose hair was so brown?" was she singing about them, this child? she had sung at their wedding, a little thing of seven years old; and old de arthenay had played, and wished them happiness, and said they were the handsomest couple he had played for that year. now she looked so tired: how was it that he had never seen how tired she looked? perhaps she was only sick or nervous that day when she spoke so. the child stirred in its mother's arms, and she gave a low sigh of weariness, and shifted the weight to the other arm. the young man bent forward and took the baby, and felt how heavy it had grown since last he held it. he had not said anything, he would not say anything--just yet; but his wife turned to him with such a smile, such a flash of love and joy, imploring, promising, that his heart leaped, and then beat peacefully, happily, as it had not beaten for many days. all was over; and alice leaned against his arm with a little movement of content, and the good neighbors looked at one another again, and smiled this time to know that all was well. what is the song now? the blind child turns slightly, so that she faces miss vesta dale, whose favorite song this is,-- "all in the merry month of may, when green buds were a-swellin", young jemmy grove on his death-hed lay, for love of barbara allan." why is miss vesta so fond of the grim old ballad? perhaps she could hardly tell, if she would. she looks very stately as she leans against the wall, close by the room where her sister rejoice is lying. does a thought come to her mind of the youth who loved her so, or thought he loved her, long and long ago? does she see his look of dismay, of incredulous anger, when she told him that her life must be given to her crippled sister, and that if he would share it he must take rejoice too, to love and to cherish as dearly as he would cherish her? he could not bear the test; he was a good young fellow enough, but there was nothing of the hero about him, and he thought that crippled folk should be taken care of in hospitals, where they belonged. "'oh, dinna ye mind, young man,' she said, 'when the red wine was a-fillin', ye bade the healths gae round an' round, and slighted barbara allan?'" if the cruel barbara had not repented, and "laid her down in sorrow," she might well have grown to look like this handsome, white-haired woman, with her keen blue eyes and queenly bearing. miss vesta had never for an instant regretted the disposition of her life, never even in the shadow of a thought; but this was the song she used to sing in those old days, and somehow she always felt a thrill (was it of pleasure or pain? she could not have told you) when the child sang it. but there may have been a "call," as rosin the beau would have said, for some one else beside vesta dale; for a tall, pale girl, who has been leaning against the wall pulling off the gray lichens as she listened, now slips away, and goes home and writes a letter; and to-morrow morning, when the mail goes to the next village, two people will be happy in god's world instead of being miserable. and now? oh, now it is a merry song; for, after all, melody is a child, and a happy child; and though she loves the sad songs dearly, still she generally likes to end up with a "dancy one." "'come boat me o'er, come row me o'er, come boat me o'er to charlie; i'll gi'e john ross anither bawbee to boat me o'er to charlie. we'll o'er the water an' o'er the sea, we'll o'er the water to charlie, come weal, come woe, we'll gather and go, and live and die wi' charlie.'" and now rosin the beau proves the good right he has to his name. trill and quavers and roulades are shaken from his bow as lightly as foam from the prow of a ship. the music leaps rollicking up and down, here and there, till the air is all a-quiver with merriment. the old man draws himself up to his full height, all save that loving bend of the head over the beloved instrument. his long slender foot, in its quaint "congress" shoe, beats time like a mill-clapper,--tap, tap, tap; his snowy curl dances over his forehead, his brown eyes twinkle with pride and pleasure. other feet beside his began to pat the ground; heads were lifted, eyes looked invitation and response. at length the child melody, with one superb outburst of song, lifted her hands above her head, and springing out into the road cried, "a dance! a dance!" instantly the quiet road was alive with dancers. old and young sprang to their feet in joyful response. the fiddle struck into "the irish washerwoman," and the people danced. children joined hands and jumped up and down, knowing no steps save nature's leaps of joy; youths and maidens flew in graceful measures together; last, but not least, old simon parker the postmaster seized mrs. martha penny by both hands, and regardless of her breathless shrieks whirled her round and round till the poor old dame had no breath left to scream with. alone in the midst of the gay throng (as strange a one, surely, as ever disturbed the quiet of a new england country road) danced the blind child, a figure of perfect grace. who taught melody to dance? surely it was the wind, the swaying birch-tree, the slender grasses that nod and wave by the brookside. light as air she floated in and out among the motley groups, never jostling or touching any one. her slender arms waved in time to the music; her beautiful hair floated over her shoulders. her whole face glowed with light and joy, while only her eyes, steadfast and unchanging, struck the one grave note in the symphony of joy and merriment. from time to time the old fiddler stole a glance at miss vesta dale, as she sat erect and stately, leaning against the wall of the house. she was beginning to grow uneasy. her foot also began to pat the ground. she moved slightly, swayed on her seat; her fingers beat time, as did the slender, well-shaped foot which peeped from under her scant blue skirt. suddenly de arthenay stopped short, and tapped sharply on his fiddle, while the dancers, breathless and exhausted, fell back by the roadside again. stepping out from the porch, he made a low bow to miss vesta. "chorus jig!" he cried, and struck up the air of that time-honored dance. miss vesta frowned, shook her head resolutely,--rose, and standing opposite the old fiddler, began to dance. here was a new marvel, no less strange in its way than melody's wild grace of movement, or the sudden madness of the village crowd. the stately white-haired woman moved slowly forward; the old man bowed again; she courtesied as became a duchess of nature's own making. their bodies erect and motionless, their heads held high, their feet went twinkling through a series of evolutions which the keenest eye could hardly follow. "pigeon-wings?" whole flocks of pigeons took flight from under that scant blue skirt, from those wonderful shrunken trousers of yellow nankeen. they moved forward, back, forward again, as smoothly as a wave glides up the shore. they twinkled round and round each other, now back to back, now face to face. they chasséd into corners, and displayed a whirlwind of delicately pointed toes; they retired as if to quarrel; they floated back to make it up again. all the while not a muscle of their faces moved, not a gleam of fun disturbed the tranquil sternness of their look; for dancing was a serious business thirty years ago, when they were young, and they had no idea of lowering its dignity by any "quips and cranks and wanton wiles," such as young folks nowadays indulge in. briefly, it was a work of art; and when it was over, and the sweeping courtesy and splendid bow had restored the old-time dancers to their places, a shout of applause went up, and the air rang with such a tumult as had never before, perhaps, disturbed the tranquillity of the country road. chapter v. in the churchyard. god's acre! a new england burying-ground,--who does not know the aspect of the place? a savage plot of ground, where nothing else would grow save this crop of gray stones, and other gray stones formless and grim, thrusting their rugged faces out here and there through the scanty soil. other stones, again, enclosing the whole with a grim, protecting arm, a ragged wall, all jagged, formless, rough. the grass is long and yet sparse; here and there a few flowers cling, hardy geraniums, lychnis, and the like, but they seem strangely out of place. the stones are fallen awry, and lean toward each other as if they exchanged confidences, and speculated on the probable spiritual whereabouts of the souls whose former bodies they guard. most of these stones are gray slate, carved with old-fashioned letters, round and long-tailed; but there are a few slabs of white marble, and in one corner is a marble lamb, looking singularly like the woolly lambs one buys for children, standing stiff and solemn on his four straight legs. this is not the "cemetery," be it understood. that is close by the village, and is the favorite walk and place of sunday resort for its inhabitants. it is trim and well-kept, with gravel paths and flower-beds, and store of urns and images in "white bronze," for the people are proud of their cemetery, as well-regulated new england people should be, and there is a proper feeling of rivalry in the matter of "moniments." but melody cares nothing whatever about the fine cemetery. it is in the old "berrin'-groun'" that her mother lies,--indeed, she was the last person buried in it; and it is here that the child loves to linger and dream the sweet, sad, purposeless dreams of childhood. she knows nothing of "old mortality," yet she is his childish imitator in this lonely spot. she keeps the weeds in some sort of subjection; she pulls away the moss and lichens from head and foot stones,--not so much with any idea of reverence as that she likes to read the inscriptions, and feel the quaint flourishes and curlicues of the older gravestones. she has a sense of personal acquaintance with all the dwellers on this hillside; talks to them and sings to them in her happy fashion, as she pulls away the witch-grass and sorrel. see her now, sitting on that low green mound, her white dress gleaming against the dusky gray of the stone on which she leans. melody is very fond of white. it feels smoother than colors, she always says; and she would wear it constantly if it did not make too much washing. one arm is thrown over the curve of the headstone, while with the other hand she follows the worn letters of the inscription, which surely no other fingers were fine enough to trace. sacred to the memory of susan dyer. true to her name, she died aug. th, , in the th year of her age. the soul of my susan is gone to heighten the triumphs above; exalted to jesus's throne and clasped in the arms of his love. melody read the words aloud, smiling as she read. "susan," she said, "i wonder who wrote your verses. i wonder if you were pretty, dear, and if you liked to be alive, and were sorry to be dead. but you must be used to it by this time, anyhow. i wonder if you 'shout redeeming love,' like your cousin (i suppose she is your cousin) sophia dyer, over in the corner there. i never liked sophia, susan dear. i seem to think she shouted here too, and snubbed you, because you were gentle and shy. see how her stone perks up, making every inch it can of itself, while yours tries to sink away and hide itself in the good green grass. i think we liked the same things a good deal, susan, don't you? and i think you would like me to go and see the old gentleman now, because he has so many dandelions; and i really must pull them up. you know i am never sure that he isn't your grandfather. so many of you are related here, it is a regular family party. good-by, susan dear." she bent over, and touched the stone lightly with her lips, then passed on to another which was half buried in the earth, the last letters of the inscription being barely discernible. "how do you do, mr. bascom?" said this singular child, laying her hand respectfully on the venerable headstone. "are your dandelions very troublesome this morning, dear sir?" her light fingers hovered over the mound like butterflies, and she began pulling up the dandelion roots, and smoothing down the grass over the bare places. then she fell to work on the inscription, which was an elaborate one, surmounted by two cherubs' heads, one resting on an hour-glass, the other on a pair of cross-bones. along every line she passed her delicate fingers, not because she did not know every line, but that she might trace any new growth of moss or lichen. "farewell this flesh, these ears, these eyes, those snares and fetters of the mind my god, nor let this frame arise till every dust be well refined." "you were very particular, mr. bascom, weren't you?" inquired melody. "you were a very neat old gentleman, with white hair always brushed just so, and a high collar. you didn't like dust, unless it was well refined. i shouldn't wonder if you washed your walking-stick every time you came home, like mr. cuter, over at the corners. here's something growing in the tail of your last _y_. never mind, mr. bascom, i'll get it out with a pin. there, now you are quite respectable, and you look very nice indeed. good-by, and do try not to fret more than you can help about the dandelions. they will grow, no matter how often i come." melody, in common with most blind persons, always spoke of seeing, of looking at things, precisely as if she had the full use of her eyes. indeed, i question whether those wonderful fingers of hers were not as good as many pairs of eyes we see. how many people go half-blind through the world, just for want of the habit of looking at things! how many plod onward, with eyes fixed on the ground, when they might be raised to the skies, seeing the glory of the lord, which he has spread abroad over hill and meadow, for all eyes to behold! how many walk with introverted gaze, seeing only themselves, while their neighbor walks beside them, unseen, and needing their ministration! the blind child touched life with her hand, and knew it. every leaf was her acquaintance, every flower her friend and gossip. she knew every tree of the forest by its bark; knew when it blossomed, and how. more than this,--some subtle sense for which we have no name gave her the power of reading with a touch the mood and humor of those she was with; and when her hand rested in that of a friend, she knew whether the friend were glad or gay, before hearing the sound of his voice. another power she had,--that of attracting to her "all creatures living beneath the sun, that creep or swim or fly or run." not a cat or dog in the village but would leave his own master or mistress at a single call from melody. she could imitate every bird-call with her wonderful voice; and one day she had come home and told miss rejoice quietly that she had been making a concert with a wood-thrush, and that the red squirrels had sat on the branches to listen. miss vesta said, "nonsense, child! you fell asleep, and had a pretty dream." but miss rejoice believed every word, and melody knew she did by the touch of her thin, kind old hand. it might well have been true; for now, as the child sat down beside a small white stone, which evidently marked a child's grave, she gave a low call, and in a moment a gray squirrel came running from the stone wall (he had been sitting there, watching her with his bright black eyes, looking so like a bit of the wall itself that the sharpest eyes would hardly have noticed him), and leaped into her lap. "brother gray-frock, how do you do?" cried the child, joyously, caressing the pretty creature with light touches. "i wondered if i should see you to-day, brother. the last time i came you were off hunting somewhere, and i called and called, but no gray brother came. how is the wife, and the children, and how is the stout young man?" the "stout young man" lay buried at the farther end of the ground, under the tree in which the squirrel lived. the inscription on his tombstone was a perpetual amusement to melody, and she could not help feeling as if the squirrel must know that it was funny too, though they had never exchanged remarks about it. this was the inscription: "i was a stout young man as you would find in ten; and when on this i think, i take in hand my pen and write it plainly out, that all the world may see how i was cut down like a blossom from a tree. the lord rest my soul." the young man's name was faithful parker. melody liked him well enough, though she never felt intimate with him, as she did with susan dyer and the dear child love good, who slept beneath this low white stone. this was melody's favorite grave. it was such a dear quaint little name,--love good. "good" had been a common name in the village seventy years ago, when this little love lived and died; many graves bore the name, though no living person now claimed it. love good, four years old. our white rose withered in the bud. this was all; and somehow melody felt that she knew and cared for these parents much more than for those who put their sorrow into rhyme, and mourned in despairing doggerel. melody laid her soft warm cheek against the little white stone, and murmured loving words to it. the squirrel sat still in her lap, content to nestle under her hand, and bask in the light and warmth of the summer day: the sunlight streamed with tempered glow through the branches of an old cedar that grew beside the little grave; peace and silence brooded like a dove over the holy place. a flutter of wings, a rustle of leaves,--was it a fairy alighting on the old cedar-tree? no, only an oriole; though some have said that this bird is a fairy prince in disguise, and that if he can win the love of a pure maiden the spell will be loosed, and he will regain his own form. this cannot be true, however; for melody knows golden robin well, and loves him well, and he loves her in his own way, yet has never changed a feather at sight of her. he will sing for her, though; and sing he does, shaking and trilling and quivering, pouring his little soul out in melody for joy of the summer day, and of the sweet, quiet place, and of the child who never scares or startles him, only smiles, and sings to him in return. they are singing together now, the child and the bird. it is a very wonderful thing, if there were any one by to hear. the gray squirrel crouches motionless in the child's lap, with half-shut eyes; the quiet dead sleep on unmoved: who else should be near to listen to such music as this? nay, but who is this, leaning over the old stone-wall, listening with keenest interest,--this man with the dark, eager face and bold black eyes? his eyes are fixed on the child; his face is aglow with wonder and delight, but with something else too,--some passion which strikes a jarring note through the harmony of the summer idyl. what is this man doing here? why does he eye the blind child so strangely, with looks of power, almost of possession? cease, cease your song, melody! fly, bird and tiny beast, to your shelter in the dark tree-tops; and fly you also, gentlest child, to the home where is love and protection and tender care! for the charm is broken, and your paradise is invaded. chapter vi. the serpent. "but i'm sure you will listen to reason, ma'am." the stranger spoke in a low, persuasive tone; his eyes glanced rapidly hither and thither as he spoke, taking the bearings of house and garden, noting the turn of the road, the distance of the neighboring houses. one would have said he was a surveyor, only he had no instruments with him. "i am sure you will listen to reason,--a fine, intelligent lady like yourself. think of it: there is a fortune in this child's voice. there hasn't been such a voice--there's never been such a voice in this country, i'll be bold to say. i know something about voices, ma'am. i've been in the concert business twenty years, and i do assure you i have never heard such a natural voice as this child has. she has a great career before her, i tell you. money, ma'am! there's thousands in that voice! it sings bank-notes and gold-pieces, every note of it. you'll be a rich woman, and she will be a great singer,--one of the very greatest. her being blind makes it all the better. i wouldn't have her like other people, not for anything. the blind prima-donna,--my stars! wouldn't it draw? i see the posters now. 'nature's greatest marvel, the blind singer! splendid talent enveloped in darkness.' she will be the success of the day, ma'am. lord, and to think of my chancing on her here, of all the little out-of-the-way places in the world! why, three hours ago i was cursing my luck, when my horse lost a shoe and went lame, just outside your pleasant little town here. and now, ma'am, now i count this the most fortunate day of my life! is the little lady in the house, ma'am? i'd like to have a little talk with her; kind o' open her eyes to what's before her,--her mind's eye, horatio, eh? know anything of shakspeare, ma'am? is she in the house, i say?" "she is not," said miss vesta dale, finding her voice at last. "the child is away, and you should not see her if she were here. she is not meant for the sort of thing you talk about. she--she is the same as our own child, my sister's and mine. we mean to keep her by us as long as we live. i thank you," she added, with stately courtesy. "i don't doubt that many might be glad of such a chance, but we are not that kind, my sister and i." the man's face fell; but the next moment he looked incredulous. "you don't mean what you say, ma'am!" he cried; "you can't mean it! to keep a voice like that shut up in a god-forsaken little hole like this,--oh, you don't know what you're talking about, really you don't.' and think of the advantage to the child herself!" he saw the woman's face change at this, saw that he had made a point, and hastened to pursue it. "what can the child have, if she spends her life here? no education, no pleasure,--nothing. nice little place, no doubt, for those that are used to it, but--lord! a child that has the whole world before her, to pick and choose! she must go to europe, ma'am! she will sing before crowned heads; go to russia, and be decorated by the czar. she'll have horses and carriages, jewels, dresses finer than any queen! patti spends three fortunes a year on her clothes, and this girl has as good a voice as patti, any day. why, you have to support her, don't you?--and hard work, too, sometimes, perhaps--her and maybe others?" miss vesta winced; and he saw it. oh, rejoice! it was a joy to save and spare, to deny herself any little luxury, that the beloved sister might have everything she fancied. but did she have everything? was it, could it be possible that this should be done for her sister's sake? the man pursued his advantage relentlessly. "you are a fine woman, ma'am, if you'll allow me to say so,--a remarkably fine woman. but you are getting on in life, as we all are. this child will support you, ma'am, instead of your supporting her. support you, do i say? why, you'll be rolling in wealth in a few years! you spoke of a sister, ma'am. is she in good health, may i ask?" his quick eye had spied the white-curtained bed through the vine-clad window, and his ear had caught the tender tone of her voice when she said, "my sister." "my sister is an invalid," said miss vesta, coldly. "another point!" exclaimed the impresario. "you will be able to have every luxury for your sister,--wines, fruits, travelling, the best medical aid the country affords. you are the--a--the steward, i may say, ma'am,"--with subtle intuition, the man assumed a tone of moral loftiness, as if calling miss vesta to account for all delinquencies, past and future,--"the steward, or even the stewardess, of this great treasure. it means everything for you and her, and for your invalid sister as well. think of it, think of it well! i am so confident of your answer that i can well afford to wait a little. take a few minutes, ma'am, and think it over." he leaned against the house in an easy attitude, with his hands in his pockets, and his mouth pursed up for a whistle. he did not feel as confident as he looked, perhaps, but miss vesta did not know that. she also leaned against the house, her head resting among the vines that screened miss rejoice's window, and thought intensely. what was right? what should she do? half an hour ago life lay so clear and plain before her; the line of happy duties, simple pleasures, was so straight, leading from the cottage door to that quiet spot in the old burying-ground where she and rejoice would one day rest side by side. they had taught melody what they could. she had books in raised print, sent regularly from the institution where she had learned to read and write. she was happy; no child could ever have been happier, miss vesta thought, if she had had three pairs of eyes. she was the heart of the village, its pride, its wonder. they had looked forward to a life of simple usefulness and kindliness for her, tending the sick with that marvellous skill which seemed a special gift from heaven; cheering, comforting, delighting old and young, by the magic of her voice and the gentle spell of her looks and ways. a quiet life, a simple, humdrum life, it might be: they had never thought of that. but now, what picture was this that the stranger had conjured up? as in a glass, miss vesta seemed to see the whole thing. melody a woman, a great singer, courted, caressed, living like a queen, with everything rich and beautiful about her; jewels in her shining hair, splendid dresses, furs and laces, such as even elderly country women love to dream about sometimes. she saw this; and she saw something else besides. the walls of the little room within seemed to part, to extend; it was no longer a tiny whitewashed closet, but stretched wide and long, rose lofty and airy. there were couches, wheeled chairs, great sunny windows, through which one looked out over lovely gardens; there were pictures, the most beautiful in the world, for those dear eyes to rest on; banks of flowers, costly ornaments, everything that luxury could devise or heart desire. and on one of these splendid couches (oh, she could move as she pleased from one to the other, instead of lying always in the one narrow white bed!),--on one of them lay her sister rejoice, in a lace wrapper, such as miss vesta had read about once in a fashion magazine; all lace, creamy and soft, with delicate ribbons here and there. there she lay; and yet--was it she? miss vesta tried hard to give life to this image, to make it smile with her sister's eyes, and speak with her sister's voice; but it had a strange, shadowy look all the time, and whenever she forced the likeness of rejoice into her mind, somehow it came with the old surroundings, the little white bed, the yellow-washed walls, the old green flag-bottomed chair on which the medicine-cups always stood. but all the other things might be hers, just by melody's singing. by melody's singing! miss vesta stood very still, her face quiet and stern, as it always was in thought, no sign of the struggle going on within. the stranger was very still too, biding his time, stealing an occasional glance at her face, feeling tolerably sure of success, yet wishing she had not quite such a set look about the mouth. all by melody's singing! no effort, no exertion for the child, only the thing she loved best in the world,--the thing she did every day and all day. and all for rejoice, for rejoice, whom melody loved so; for whom the child would count any toil, any privation, merely an added pleasure, even as vesta herself would. miss vesta held her breath, and prayed. would not god answer for her? she was only a woman, and very weak, though she had never guessed it till now. god knew what the right thing was: would he not speak for her? she looked up, and saw melody coming down the road, leading a child in each hand. she was smiling, and the children were laughing, though there were traces of tears on their cheeks; for they had been quarrelling when melody found them in the fields and brought them away. it was a pretty picture; the stranger's eyes brightened as he gazed at it. but for the first time in her life miss vesta was not glad to see melody. the child began to sing, and the woman listened for the words, with a vague trouble darkening over her perturbed spirit as a thunder-cloud comes blackening a gray sky, filling it with angry mutterings, with quick flashes. what if the child should sing the wrong words, she thought! what were the wrong words, and how should she know whether they were of god or the devil? it was an old song that melody was singing; she knew few others, indeed,--only the last verse of an old song, which vesta dale had heard all her life, and had never thought much about, save that it was a good song, one of the kind rejoice liked. "there's a place that is better than this, robin ruff, and i hope in my heart you'll go there; where the poor man's as great, though he hath no estate, ay, as though he'd a thousand a year, robin ruff, as though he'd a thousand a year'" "so you see," said melody to the children, as they paced along, "it doesn't make any real difference whether we have things or don't have them. it's inside that one has to be happy; one can't be happy from the outside, ever. i should think it would be harder if one had lots of things that one must think about, and take care of, and perhaps worry over. i often am so glad i haven't many things." they passed on, going down into the little meadow where the sweet rushes grew, for melody knew that no child could stay cross when it had sweet rushes to play with; and miss vesta turned to the stranger with a quick, fierce movement. "go away!" she cried. "you have your answer. not for fifty thousand fortunes should you have the child! go, and never come here again!" * * * * * it was two or three days after this that dr. brown was driving rapidly home toward the village. he had had a tiresome day, and he meant to have a cup of vesta dale's good tea and a song from melody to smooth down his ruffled plumage, and to put him into good-humor again. his patients had been very trying, especially the last one he had visited,--an old lady who sent for him from ten miles' distance, and then told him she had taken seventy-five bottles of vegetine without benefit, and wanted to know what she should do next. "i really do not know, madam," the doctor replied, "unless you should pound up the seventy-five bottles with their labels, and take those." whereupon he got into his buggy and drove off without another word. but the dale girls and melody--bless them all for a set of angels!--would soon put him to rights again, thought the doctor, and he would send old mrs. prabbles some pills in the morning. there was nothing whatever the matter with the old harridan. here was the turn; now in a moment he would see vesta sitting in the doorway at her knitting, or looking out of rejoice's window; and she would call the child whom his heart loved, and then for a happy, peaceful evening, and all vexations forgotten! but what was this? instead of the trim, staid figure he looked to see, who was this frantic woman who came running toward him from the little house, with white hair flying on the wind, with wild looks? her dress was disordered; her eyes stared in anguish; her lips stammered, making confused sounds, which at first had no meaning to the startled hearer. but he heard--oh, he heard and understood, when the distracted woman grasped his arm, and cried,-- "melody is stolen! stolen! and rejoice is dead!" chapter vii. lost. miss rejoice was not dead; though the doctor had a moment of dreadful fright when he saw her lying all crumpled up on the floor, her eyes closed, her face like wrinkled wax. between them, the doctor and miss vesta got her back into bed, and rubbed her hands, and put stimulants between her closed lips. at last her breath began to flutter, and then came back steadily. she opened her eyes; at first they were soft and mild as usual, but presently a wild look stole into them. "the child!" she whispered; "the child is gone!" "we know it," said dr. brown, quietly. "we shall find her, rejoice, never fear. now you must rest a few minutes, and then you shall tell us how it happened. why, we found you on the floor, my child,"--miss rejoice was older than the doctor, but it seemed natural to call her by any term of endearment,--"how upon earth did you get there?" slowly, with many pauses for breath and composure, miss rejoice told her story. it was short enough. melody had been sitting with her, reading aloud from the great book which now lay face downward on the floor by the window. milton's "paradise lost" it was, and rejoice dale could never bear to hear the book named in her life after this time. a carriage drove up and stopped at the door, and melody went out to see who had come. as she went, she said, "it is a strange wagon; i have never heard it before." they both supposed it some stranger who had stopped to ask for a glass of water, as people often did, driving through the village on their way to the mountains. the sick woman heard a man speaking, in smooth, soft tones; she caught the words: "a little drive--fine afternoon;" and melody's clear voice replying, "no, thank you, sir; you are very kind, but my aunt and i are alone, and i could not leave her. shall i bring you a glass of water?" then--oh, then--there was a sound of steps, a startled murmur in the beloved voice, and then a scream. oh, such a scream! rejoice dale shrank down in her bed, and cried out herself in agony at the memory of it. she had called, she had shrieked aloud, the helpless creature, and her only answer was another cry of anguish: "help! help! auntie! doctor! rosin! oh, rosin, rosin, help!" then the cry was muffled, stifled, sank away into dreadful silence; the wagon drove off, and all was over. rejoice dale found herself on the floor, dragging herself along on her elbows. paralyzed from the waist down, the body was a weary weight to drag, but she clutched at a chair, a table; gained a little way at each movement; thought she was nearly at the door, when sense and strength failed, and she knew nothing more till she saw her sister and the doctor bending over her. then miss vesta, very pale, with lips that trembled, and voice that would not obey her will, but broke and quavered, and failed at times, like a strange instrument one has not learned how to master,--miss vesta told her story, of the dark stranger who had come three days before and taken her up to a pinnacle, and showed her the kingdoms of the earth. "i did not tell you, rejoice," she cried, holding her sister's hand, and gazing into her face in an agony of self-reproach; "i did not tell you, because i was really tempted,--not for myself, i do believe; i am permitted to believe, and it is the one comfort i have,--but for you, rejoice, my dear, and for the child herself. but mostly for you, oh, my god! mostly for you. and when i came to myself and knew you would rather die ten times over than have luxuries bought with the child's happy, innocent life,--when i came to myself, i was ashamed, and did not tell you, for i did not want you to think badly of me. if i had told you, you would have been on your guard, and have put me on mine; and i should never have left you, blind fool that i was, for you would have showed me the danger. doctor, we are two weak women,--she in body, i in mind and heart. tell us what we shall do, or i think we must both die!" dr. brown hardly heard her appeal, so deeply was he thinking, wondering, casting about in his mind for counsel. but rejoice dale took her sister's hand in hers. "'though a thousand fall beside thee, and ten thousand at thy right hand, yet it shall not come nigh thee,'" she said steadfastly. "our blind child is in her father's hand, sister; he leads her, and she can go nowhere without him. go you now, and seek for her." "i cannot!" cried vesta dale, wringing her hands and weeping. "i cannot leave you, rejoice. you know i cannot leave you." both women felt for the first time, with a pang unspeakable, the burden of restraint. the strong woman wrung her hands again, and moaned like a dumb creature in pain; the helpless body of the cripple quivered and shrank away from itself, but the soul within was firm. "you must go," said miss rejoice, quietly. "neither of us could bear it if you stayed. if i know you are searching, i can be patient; and i shall have help." "amanda loomis could come," said miss vesta, misunderstanding her. "yes," said rejoice, with a faint smile; "amanda can come, and i shall do very well indeed till you come back with the child. go at once, vesta; don't lose a moment. put on your bonnet and shawl, and doctor will drive you over to the corners. the stage goes by in an hour's time, and you have none too long to reach it." dr. brown seemed to wake suddenly from the distressful dream in which he had been plunged. "yes, i will drive you over to the stage, vesta," he said. "god help me! it is all i can do. i have an operation to perform at noon. it is a case of life and death, and i have no right to leave it. the man's whole life is not worth one hour of melody's," he added with some bitterness; "but that makes no difference, i suppose. i have no choice in the matter. girls!" he cried, "you know well enough that if it were my own life, i would throw it down the well to give the child an hour's pleasure, let alone saving her from misery,--and perhaps from death!" he added to himself; for only he and the famous physician who had examined melody at his instance knew that under all the joy and vigor of the child's simple, healthy life lay dormant a trouble of the heart, which would make any life of excitement or fatigue fatal to her in short space, though she might live in quiet many happy years. yes, one other person knew this,--his friend dr. anthony, whose remonstrances against the wickedness of hiding this rare jewel from a world of appreciation and of fame could only be silenced by showing him the bitter drop which lay at the heart of the rose. rejoice dale reassured him by a tender pressure of the hand, and a few soothing words. they had known each other ever since their pinafore days, these three people. he was younger than miss rejoice, and he had been deeply in love with her when he was an awkward boy of fifteen, and she a lovely seventeen-year-old girl. they had called him "doctor" at first in sport, when he came home to practise in his native village; but soon he had so fully shown his claim to the grave title that "the girls" and every one else had forgotten the fact that he had once been "jack" to the whole village. "doctor," said the sick woman, "try not to think about it more than you can help! there are all the sick people looking to you as next to the hand of god; your path is clear before you." dr. brown groaned. he wished his path were not so clear, that he might in some way make excuse to turn aside from it. "i will give vesta a note to dr. anthony," he said, brightening a little at the thought. "he will do anything in his power to help us. there are other people, too, who will be kind. yes, yes; we shall have plenty of help." he fidgeted about the room, restless and uneasy, till miss vesta came in, in her bonnet and shawl. "i have no choice," he repeated doggedly, hugging his duty close, as if to dull the pressure of the pain within. "but how can you go alone, vesta, my poor girl? you are not fit; you are trembling all over. god help us!" cried dr. brown, again. for a moment the two strong ones stood irresolute, feeling themselves like little children in the grasp of a fate too big for them to grapple. the sick woman closed her eyes, and waited. god would help, in his good way. she knew no more, and no more was needed. there were a few moments of silence, as if all were waiting for something, they knew not what,--a sign, perhaps, that they were not forgotten, forsaken, on the sea of this great trouble. suddenly through the open window stole a breath of sound. faint and far, it seemed at first only a note of the summer breeze, taking a deeper tone than its usual soft murmur. it deepened still; took form, rhythm; made itself a body of sound, sweet, piercing, thrilling on the ear. and at the sound of it, vesta dale fell away again into helpless weeping, like a frightened child; for it was the tune of "rosin the beau." "who shall tell him?" she moaned, covering her face with her hands, and rocking to and fro,--"oh, who shall tell him that the light of our life and his is gone out?" chapter viii. waiting. how did the time pass with the sick woman, waiting in the little chamber, listening day by day and hour by hour for the steps, the voices, which did not come? miss rejoice was very peaceful, very quiet,--too quiet, thought mandy loomis, the good neighbor who watched by her, fulfilling her little needs, and longing with a thirsty soul for a good dish of gossip. if rejoice would only "open her mind!" it would be better for her, and such a relief to poor mandy, unused to silent people who bore their troubles with a smile. "where do you s'pose she is, rejoice?" mrs. loomis would cry, twenty times a day. "where do you s'pose she is? ef we only knew, 't would be easier to bear, seems 's though. don't you think so, rejoice?" but rejoice only shook her head, and said, "she is cared for, mandy, we must believe. all we have to do is to be quiet, and wait for the lord's time." "dear to goodness! she can wait!" exclaimed mrs. loomis to mrs. penny, when the latter came in one evening to see if any news had come. "she ain't done anything but wait, you may say, ever sence time was, rejoice ain't. but i do find it dretful tryin' now, mis' penny, now i tell ye. settin' here with my hands in my lap, and she so quiet in there, well, i do want to fly sometimes, seems 's though. well, i am glad to see you, to be sure. the' ain't a soul ben by this day. set down, do. you want to go in 'n' see rejoice? jest in a minute. i do think i shall have a sickness if i don't have some one to open my mind to. now, mis' penny, where do you s'pose, where do you s'pose that child is?" then, without waiting for a reply, she plunged headlong into the stream of talk. "no, we ain't heard a word. vesta went off a week ago, and mr. de arthenay with her. providential, wasn't it, his happenin' along just in the nick o' time? i do get out of patience with rejoice sometimes, takin' the lord quite so much for granted as she doos; for, after all, the child was stole, you can't get over that, and seems's though if there'd ben such a good lookout as she thinks,--well, there! i don't want to be profane; but i will say 'twas a providence, mr. de arthenay happenin' along. well, they went, and not a word have we heard sence but just one letter from vesta, sayin' they hadn't found no trace yet, but they hoped to every day,--and land sakes, we knew that, i should hope. dr. brown comes in every day to cheer her up, though i do declare i need it more than she doos, seems's though. he's as close as an oyster, dr. brown is; i can't even get the news out of him, most times. how's that boy of 'bind parker's,--him that fell and hurt his leg so bad? gettin' well, is he?" "no, he isn't," said mrs. penny, stepping in quickly on the question, as her first chance of getting in a word. "he's terrible slim; i heard doctor say so. they're afraid of the kangaroo settin' in in the j'int, and you know that means death, sartin sure." both women nodded, drawing in their breath with an awful relish. "'t will be a terrible loss to his mother," said mandy loomis. "such a likely boy as he was gettin' to be, and 'bind so little good, one way and another." "do you think they'll hear news of melody?" asked mrs. penny, changing the subject abruptly. amanda loomis plumped her hands down on her knees, and leaned forward; it was good to listen, but, oh, how much better it was to speak! "i don't," she said, with gloomy emphasis. "if you ask me what i reelly think, mis' penny, it's that. i don't think we shall ever set eyes on that blessed child again. rejoice is so sartin sure, sometimes my hopes get away with me, and i forgit my jedgment for a spell. but there! see how it is! now, mind, what i say is for this room only." she spread her hands abroad, as if warning the air around to secrecy, and lowered her voice to an awestruck whisper. "i've ben here a week now, mis' penny. every night the death-watch has ticked in mel'dy's room the endurin' night. i don't sleep, you know, fit to support a flea. i hear every hour strike right straight along, and i know things that's hid from others, mis' penny, though i do say it. last night as ever was i heard a sobbin' and a sighin' goin' round the house, as plain as i hear you this minute. some might ha' said't was the wind, but there's other things besides wind, mis' penny; and i solemnly believe that was mel'dy's sperrit, and the child is dead. it ain't my interest to say it," she cried, with a sudden change of tone, putting her apron to her eyes: "goodness knows it ain't my interest to say it. what that child has been to me nobody knows. when i've had them weakly spells, the' warn't nobody but mel'dy could ha' brought me out of 'em alive, well i know. she tended me and sung to me like all the angels in heaven, and when she'd lay her hand on me--well, there! seems's though my narves 'ud quiet right down, and blow away like smoke. i've ben a well woman--that is to say, for one that's always enjoyed poor health--sence dr. brown sent that blessed child to me. she has a gift, if ever any one had. dr. brown had ought to give her half of what he makes doctorin'; she's more help than all the medicine ever _he_ gives. i never saw a doctor so dretful stingy with his stuff. why, i've ben perishin' sometimes for want o' doctorin', and all he'd give me was a little pepsin, or tell me to take as much sody as would lay on the p'int of a penknife, or some such thing,--not so much as you'd give to a canary-bird. i do sometimes wish we had a doctor who knew the use o' medicine, 'stead of everlastin'ly talkin' about the laws o' health, and hulsome food, and all them notions. why, there's old dr. jalap, over to the corners. he give beulah pegrum seven liver pills at one dose, and only charged her fifty cents, over 'n' above the cost of the pills. now _that's_ what i call doctorin',--not but what i like dr. brown well enough. but mel'dy--well, there! and now to have her took off so suddin, and never to know whether she's buried respectable, or buried at all! you hear awful stories of city ways, these times. now, this is for this room only, and don't you ever tell a soul! it's as true as i live, they have a furnace where they burn folks' bodies, for all the world as if they was hick'ry lawgs. my cousin salome's nephew that lives in the city saw one once. he thought it was connected with the gas-works, but he didn't know for sure. mis' penny, if rejoice dale was to know that mel'dy was made into gas--" martha penny clutched the speaker's arm, and laid her hand over her mouth, with a scared look. the door of the bedroom had swung open in the breeze, and in the stress of feeling mandy loomis had raised her voice higher and higher, till the last words rang through the house like the wail of a sibyl. but above the wail another sound was now rising, the voice of rejoice dale,--not calm and gentle, as they had always heard it, but high-pitched, quivering with intense feeling. "i see her!" cried the sick woman. "i see the child! lord, save her! lord, save her!" the two women hurried in, and found her sitting up in bed, her eyes wide, her arm outstretched, pointing--at what? involuntarily they turned to follow the pointing finger, and saw the yellow-washed wall, and the wreath of autumn leaves that always hung there. "what is it, rejoice?" cried mandy, terrified. "what do you see? is it a spirit? tell us, for pity's sake!" but even at that moment a change came. the rigid muscles relaxed, the whole face softened to its usual peaceful look; the arm dropped gently, and rejoice dale sank back upon her pillow and smiled. "thy rod and thy staff!" she said. "thy rod and thy staff! they comfort me." and for the first time since melody was lost, she fell asleep, and slept like a little child. chapter ix. blondel. noontide in the great city! the july sun blazes down upon the brick sidewalks, heating them through and through, till they scorch the bare toes of the little street children, who creep about, sheltering their eyes with their hands, and keeping in the shade when it is possible. the apple-women crouch close to the wall, under their green umbrellas; the banana-sellers look yellow and wilted as their own wares. men pass along, hurrying, because they are americans, and business must go on whether it be hot or cold; but they move in a dogged jog-trot, expressive of weariness and disgust, and wipe their brows as they go, muttering anathemas under their breath on the whole summer season. most of the men are in linen coats, some in no coats at all; all wear straw hats, and there is a great display of palm-leaf fans, waving in all degrees of energy. here and there is seen an umbrella, but these are not frequent, for it seems to the american a strange and womanish thing to carry an umbrella except for rain; it also requires attention, and takes a man's mind off his business. each man of all the hurrying thousands is shut up in himself, carrying his little world, which is all the world there is, about with him, seeing the other hurrying mites only "as trees walking," with no thought or note of them. who cares about anybody else when it is so hot? get through the day's work, and away to the wife and children in the cool by the sea-shore, or in the comfortable green suburb, where, if one must still be hot, one can at least suffer decently, and not "like a running river be,"--with apologies to the boy chatterton. among all these hurrying motes in the broad, fierce stream of sunshine, one figure moves slowly, without haste. nobody looks at anybody else, or this figure might attract some attention, even in the streets of the great city. an old man, tall and slender, with snowy hair falling in a single curl over his forehead; with brown eyes which glance birdlike here and there, seeing everything, taking in every face, every shadow of a vanishing form that hurries along and away from him; with fiddle-bow in hand, and fiddle held close and tenderly against his shoulder. de arthenay, looking for his little girl! not content with scanning every face as it passes, he looks up at the houses, searching with eager eye their blank, close-shuttered walls, as if in hope of seeing through the barriers of brick and stone, and surprising the secrets that may lurk within. now and then a house seems to take his fancy, for he stops, and still looking up at the windows, plays a tune. it is generally the same tune,--a simple, homely old air, which the street-boys can readily take up and whistle, though they do not hear it in the music-halls or on the hand-organs. a languid crowd gathers round him when he pauses thus, for street-boys know a good fiddler when they hear him; and this is a good fiddler. when a crowd has collected, the old man turns his attention from the silent windows (they are generally silent; or if a face looks out, it is not the beloved one which is in his mind night and day, day and night) and scans the faces around him, with sad, eager eyes. then, stopping short in his playing, he taps sharply on his fiddle, and asks in a clear voice if any one has seen or heard of a blind child, with beautiful brown hair, clear blue eyes, and the most wonderful voice in the world. no one has heard of such a child; but one tells him of a blind negro who can play the trombone, and another knows of a blind woman who tells fortunes "equal to the best mejums;" and so on, and so on. he shakes his head with a patient look, makes his grand bow, and passes on to the next street, the next wondering crowd, the next disappointment. sometimes he is hailed by some music-hall keeper who hears him play, and knows a good thing when he hears it, and who engages the old fiddler to play for an evening or two. he goes readily enough; for there is no knowing where the dark stranger may have taken the child, and where no clew is, one may follow any track that presents itself. so the old man goes, and sits patiently in the hot, noisy place. at first the merry-makers, who are not of a high degree of refinement, make fun of him, and cut many a joke at the expense of his blue coat and brass buttons, his nankeen trousers and old-fashioned stock. but he heeds them not; and once he begins to play, they forget all about his looks, and only want to dance, dance, and say there never was such music for dancing. when a pleasant-looking girl comes near him, or pauses in the dance, he calls her to him, and asks her in a low tone the usual question: has she seen or heard of a blind child, with the most beautiful hair, etc. he is careful whom he asks, however; he would not insult melody by asking for her of some of these young women, with bold eyes, with loose hair and disordered looks. so he sits and plays, a quaint, old-world figure, among the laughing, dancing, foolish crowd. old de arthenay, from the androscoggin,--what would his ancestor, the gallant marquis who came over with baron castine to america, what would the whole line of ancestors, from the crusaders down, say to see their descendant in such a place as this? he has always held his head high, though he has earned his bread by fiddling, varied by shoemaking in the winter-time. he has always kept good company, he would tell you, and would rather go hungry any day than earn a dinner among people who do not regard the decencies of life. even in this place, people come to feel the quality of the old man, somehow, and no one speaks rudely to him; and voices are even lowered as they pass him, sitting grave and erect on his stool, his magic bow flying, his foot keeping time to the music. all the old tunes he plays, "money musk," and "portland fancy," and "lady of the lake." now he quavers into the "chorus jig;" but no one here knows enough to dance that, so he comes back to the simpler airs again. and as he plays, the whole tawdry, glaring scene drops away from the old man's eyes, and instead of vulgar gaslight he sees the soft glow of the afternoon sun on the country road, and the graceful elms bending in an arch overhead, as if to watch the child melody as she dances. the slender figure swaying hither and thither, with its gentle, wind-blown motion, the exquisite face alight with happiness, the floating tendrils of hair, the most beautiful hair in the world; then the dear, homely country folks sitting by the roadside, watching with breathless interest his darling, their darling, the flower of the whole country-side; miss vesta's tall, stately figure in the doorway; the vine-clad window, behind which rejoice lies, unseen, yet sharing all the sweet, simple pleasure with heartfelt enjoyment,--all this the old fiddler sees, set plain before him. the "lady" on his arm (for de arthenay's fiddle is a lady as surely as he is a gentleman),--the lady feels it too, perhaps, for she thrills to his touch, as the bow goes leaping over the strings; and more than one wild girl and rough fellow feels a touch of something that has not been felt mayhap for many a day, and goes home to stuffy garret or squalid cellar the better for that night's music. and when it is over, de arthenay makes his stately bow once more, and walks round the room, asking his question in low tones of such as seem worthy of it; and then home, patient, undaunted, to the quiet lodging where vesta dale is sitting up for him, weary after her day's search in other quarters of the city, hoping little from his coming, yet unwilling to lie down without a sight of his face, always cheery when it meets hers, and the sound of his voice saying,-- "better luck to-morrow, miss vesta! better luck tomorrow! there's one has her in charge, and he didn't need us to-day; that's all, my dear." god help thee, de arthenay! god speed and prosper thee, rosin the beau! but is not another name more fitting even than the fantastic one of his adoption? is not this blondel, faithful, patient, undaunted, wandering by tower and town, singing his song of love and hope and undying loyalty under every window, till it shall one day fall like a breath from heaven on the ear of the prisoner, sitting in darkness and the shadow of death? chapter x. darkness. "and how's our sweet little lady to-day? she's looking as pretty as a picture, so it's a pleasure to look at her. how are you feeling, dearie?" it was a woman's voice that spoke, soft and wheedling, yet with a certain unpleasant twang in it. she spoke to melody, who sat still, with folded hands, and head bowed as if in a dream. "i am well, thank you," answered the child; and she was silent again. the woman glanced over her shoulder at a man who had followed her into the room,--a dark man with an eager face and restless, discontented eyes; the same man who had watched melody over the wall of the old burying-ground, and heard her sing. he had never heard her sing since, save for that little snatch of "robin ruff," which she had sung to the children the day when he stood and pleaded with vesta dale to sell her soul for her sister's comfort. "and here's mr. anderson come to see you, according to custom," said the woman; "and i hope you are glad to see him, i'm sure, for he's your best friend, dearie, and he does love you so; it would be quite surprising, if you weren't the sweet lamb you are, sitting there like a flower all in the dark." she paused, and waited for a reply; but none came. the two exchanged a glance of exasperation, and the woman shook her fist at the child; but her voice was still soft and smooth as she resumed her speech. "and you'll sing us a little song now, dearie, won't you? to think that you've been here near a week now, and i haven't heard the sound of that wonderful voice yet, only in speaking. it's sweet as an angel's then, to be sure; but dear me! if you knew what mr. anderson has told me about his hearing you sing that day! such a particular gentleman as he is, too, anybody would tell you! why, i've seen girls with voices as they thought the wonder of the world, and their friends with them, and mr. anderson would no more listen to them than the dirt under his feet; no, indeed, he wouldn't. and you that he thinks so much of! why, it makes me feel real bad to see you not take that comfort in him as you might. why, he wants to be a father to you, dearie. he hasn't got any little girl of his own, and he will give you everything that's nice, that he will, just as soon as you begin to get a little fond of him, and realize all he's doing for you. why, most young ladies would give their two eyes for your chance, i can tell you." she was growing angry in spite of herself, and the man anderson pulled her aside. "it's no use," he said. "we shall just have to wait. you know, my dear," he continued, addressing the child, "you know that you will never see your aunts again unless you _do_ sing. you sense that, do you?" no reply. melody shivered a little, then drew herself together and was still,--the stillest figure that ever breathed and lived. anderson clenched his hands and fairly trembled with rage and with the effort to conceal it. he must not frighten the child too much. he could not punish her, hurt her in any way; for any shock might injure the precious voice which was to make his fortune. he was no fool, this man. he had some knowledge, more ambition. he had been unsuccessful on the whole, had been disappointed in several ventures; now he had found a treasure, a veritable gold-mine, and-he could not work it! could anything be more exasperating? this child, whose voice could rouse a whole city--a city! could rouse the world to rapture, absolutely refused to sing a note! he had tried cajolery, pathos, threats; he had called together a chosen company of critics to hear the future catalani, and had been forced to send them home empty, having heard no note of the marvellous voice! the child would not sing, she would not even speak, save in the briefest possible fashion, little beyond "yes" and "no." what was a poor impresario to do? he longed to grasp her by the shoulders and shake the voice out of her; his hands fairly itched to get hold of the obstinate little piece of humanity, who, in her childishness, her helplessness, her blindness, thus defied him, and set all his cherished plans at nought. and yet he would not have shaken her probably, even had he dared to do so. he was not a violent man, nor a wholly bad one. he could steal a child, and convince himself that it was for the child's good as well as his own; but he could not hurt a child. he had once had a little girl of his own; it was quite true that he had intended to play a father's part to melody, if she would only have behaved herself. in the grand drama of success that he had arranged so carefully, it was a most charming role that he had laid out for himself. anderson the benefactor, anderson the discoverer, the adopted father of the prodigy, the patron of music. crowds hailing him with rapturous gratitude; the wonder-child kneeling and presenting him with a laurel crown, which had been thrown to her, but which she rightly felt to be his due, who had given her all, and brought her from darkness into light! instead of this, what part was this he was really playing? anderson the kidnapper; anderson the villain, the ruffian, the invader of peaceful homes, the bogy to scare naughty children with. he did not say all this to himself, perhaps, because he was not, save when carried away by professional enthusiasm, an imaginative man; but he felt thoroughly uncomfortable, and, above all, absolutely at sea, not knowing which way to turn. as he stood thus, irresolute, the woman by his side eying him furtively from time to time, melody turned her face toward him and spoke. "if you will take me home," she said, "i will sing to you. i will sing all day, if you like. but here i will never sing. it would not be possible for you to make me do it, so why do you try? you made a mistake, that is all." "oh, that's all, is it?" repeated anderson. "yes, truly," the child went on. "perhaps you do not mean to be unkind,--mrs. brown says you do not; but then why _are_ you unkind, and why will you not take me home?" "it is for your own good, child," repeated anderson, doggedly. "you know that well enough. i have told you how it will all be, a hundred times. you were not meant for a little village, and a few dull old people; you are for the world, the great world of wealth and fashion and power. if you were not either a fool or--or--i don't know what, you would see the matter as it really is. mrs. brown is right: most girls would give their eyes, and their ears too, for such a chance as you have. you are only a child, and a very foolish child; and you don't know what is good for you. some day you will be thankful to me for making you sing." melody smiled, and her smile said much, for anderson turned red, and clenched his hands fiercely. "you belong to the world, i tell you!" he cried again. "the world has a right to you." "to the world?" the child repeated softly. "yes, it is true; i do belong to the world,--to god's world of beauty, to the woods and fields, the flowers and grasses, and to the people who love me. when the birds sing to me i can answer them, and they know that my song is as sweet as their own. the brook tells me its story, and i tell it again, and every ripple sounds in my voice; and i know that i please the brook, and all who hear me,--little beasts, and flowers that nod on their stems to hear, and trees that bend down to touch me, and tell me by their touch that they are well pleased. and children love to hear me sing, and i can fill their little hearts with joy. i sing to sick people, and they are easier of their pain, and perhaps they may sleep, when they have not been able to sleep for long nights. this is my life, my work. i am god's child; and do you think i do not know the work my father has given me to do?" with a sudden movement she stepped forward, and laid her hand lightly on the man's breast. "you are god's child, too!" she said, in a low voice. "are you doing his work now?" there was silence in the room. anderson was as if spellbound, his eyes fixed on the child, who stood like a youthful prophetess, her head thrown back, her beautiful face full of solemn light, her arm raised in awful appeal. the woman threw her apron over her head and began to cry. the man moistened his lips twice or thrice, trying to speak, but no words came. at length he made a sign of despair to his accomplice; moved back from that questioning, warning hand, whose light touch seemed to burn through and through him,--moved away, groping for the door, his eyes still fixed on the child's face; stole out finally, as a thief steals, and closed the door softly behind him. melody stood still, looking up to heaven. a great peace filled her heart, which had been so torn and tortured these many days past, ever since the dreadful moment when she had been forced away from her home, from her life, and brought into bondage and the shadow of death. she had thought till to-day that she should die. not that she was deserted, not that god had forgotten,--oh, no; but that he did not need her any longer here, that she had not been worthy of the work she had thought to be hers, and that now she was to be taken elsewhere to some other task. she was only a child; her life was strong in every limb; but god could not mean her to live here, in this way,--that would not be merciful, and his property was always to have mercy. so death would come,--death as a friend, just as auntie joy had always described him; and she would go hence, led by her father's hand. but now, what change was coming over her? the air seemed lighter, clearer, since anderson had left the room. a new hope entered her heart, coming she knew not whence, filling it with pulses and waves of joy. she thought of her home; and it seemed to grow nearer, more distinct, at every moment. she saw (as blind people see) the face of rejoice dale, beaming with joy and peace; she felt the strong clasp of miss vesta's hand. she smelt the lilacs, the white lilacs beneath which she loved to sit and sing. she heard--oh, god! what did she hear? what sound was this in her ears? was it still the dream, the lovely dream of home, or was a real sound thrilling in her ears, beating in her heart, filling the whole world with the voice of hope,--of hope fulfilled, of life and love? "i've travelled this country all over, and now to the next i must go; but i know that good quarters await me, and a welcome to rosin the beau." oh, father of mercy! never doubted, always near in sorrow and in joy! oh, holy angels, who have held my hands and lifted me up, lest i dash my foot against a stone! a welcome,--oh, on my knees, in humble thanksgiving, in endless love and praise,--a welcome to rosin the beau! * * * * * an hour later mrs. brown stood before her employer, flushed and disordered, making her defence. "i couldn't have helped it, not if i had died for it, mr. anderson. you couldn't have helped it yourself, if you had been there. when she heard that fiddle, the child dropped on her knees as if she had been shot, and i thought she was going to faint. but the next minute she was at the window, and such a cry as she gave! the sound of it is in my bones yet, and will be till i die." she paused, and wiped her fiery face, for she had run bareheaded through the blazing streets. "then he came in,--the old man. he was plain dressed, but he came in like a king to his throne; and the child drifted into his arms like a flake of snow, and there she lay. mr. anderson, when he held her there on his breast, and turned and looked at me, with his eyes like two black coals, all power was taken from me, and i couldn't have moved if it had been to save my own life. he pointed at me with his fiddle-bow, but it might have been a sword for all the difference i knew; anyway, his voice went through and through me like something sharp and bright. 'you cannot move,' he said; 'you have no power to move hand or foot till i have taken my child away. i bid you be still!' mr. anderson, sir, i _had_ no power! i stood still, and they went away. they seemed to melt away together,--he with his arm round her waist, holding her up like; and she with her face turned up to his, and a look like heaven, if i ever hope to see heaven. the next minute they was gone, and still i hadn't never moved. and now i've come to tell you, sir," cried mrs. brown, smoothing down her ruffled hair in great agitation; "and to tell you something else too, as i would burst if i didn't. i am glad he has got her! if i was to lose my place fifty times over, as you've always been good pay and a kind gentleman too, still i say it, i'm glad he has got her. she wasn't of your kind, sir, nor of mine neither. and--and i've never been a professor," cried the woman, with her apron at her eyes, "but i hope i know an angel when i see one, and i mean to be a better woman from this day, so i do. and she asked god to bless me, mr. anderson, she did, as she went away, because i meant to be kind to her; and i did mean it, the blessed creature! and she said good-by to you too, sir; and she knew you thought it was for her good, only you didn't know what god meant. and i'm so glad, i'm so glad!" she stopped short, more surprised than she had ever been in her life; for edward anderson was shaking her hand violently, and telling her that she was a good woman, a very good woman indeed, and that he thought the better of her, and had been thinking for some time of raising her salary. chapter xi. light. i love the morning light,--the freshness, the pearls and diamonds, the fairy linen spread on the grass to bleach (there be those who call it spider-web, but to such i speak not), the silver fog curling up from river and valley. i love it so much that i am loath to confess that sometimes the evening light is even more beautiful. yet is there a softness that comes with the close of day, a glorification of common things, a drawing of purple shadows over all that is rough or unsightly, which makes the early evening perhaps the most perfect time of all the perfect hours. it was such an hour that now brooded over the little village, when the people came out from their houses to watch for melody's coming. it is a pretty little village at all times, very small and straggling, but lovely with flowers and vines and dear, homely old houses, which have not found out that they are again in the fashion out of which they were driven many years ago, but still hold themselves humbly, with a respect for the brick and stucco of which they have heard from time to time. it is always pretty, i say, but this evening it had received some fresh baptism of beauty, as if the day knew what was coming, and had pranked herself in her very best for the festival. the sunbeams slanted down the straggling, grass-grown road, and straightway it became an avenue of wonder, with gold-dust under foot, flecked here and there with emerald. the elms met over head in triumphal arches; the creepers on the low houses hung out wonderful scarfs and banners of welcome, which swung gold and purple in the joyous light. and as the people came out of their houses, now that the time was drawing near, lo! the light was on their faces too; and the plain new england men and women, in their prints and jeans, shone like the figures in a venetian picture, and were all a-glitter with gold and precious stones for once in their lives, though they knew it not. but not all of this light came from the setting sun; on every face was the glow of a great joy, and every voice was soft with happiness, and the laughter was all a-tremble with the tears that were so near it. they were talking about the child who was coming back to them, whom they had mourned as lost. they were telling of her gracious words and ways, so different from anything else they had known,--her smiles, and the way she held her head when she sang; and the way she found things out, without ever any one telling her. wonderful, was it not? why, one dared not have ugly thoughts in her presence; or if they came, one tried to hide them away, deep down, so that melody should not see them with her blind eyes. do you remember how joel pottle took too much one day (nobody knows to this day where he got it, and his folks all temperance people), and how he stood out in the road and swore at the folks coming out of meeting, and how melody came along and took him by the hand, and led him away down by the brook, and never left him till he was a sober man again? and every one knew joel had never touched a drop of liquor from that day on. again, could they ever forget how she saved the baby,--jane pegrum's baby,--that had been forgotten by its frantic mother in the burning house? they shuddered as they recalled the scene: the writhing, hissing flames, the charred rafters threatening every moment to fall; and the blind child walking calmly along the one safe beam, unmoved above the pit of fire which none of them could bear to look on, catching the baby from its cradle ("and it all of a smoulder, just ready to burst out in another minute") and bringing it safe to the woman who lay fainting on the grass below! vesta had never forgiven them for that, for letting the child go: she was away at the time, and when she came back and found melody's eyebrows all singed off, it did seem as though the village wouldn't hold her, didn't it? and doctor was just as bad. but, there! they couldn't have held her back, once she knew the child was there; and rejoice was purely thankful. melody seemed to favor rejoice, almost as if she might be her own child. vesta had more of this world in her, sure enough. isn't it about time for them to be coming? doctor won't waste time on the road, you may be sure. dreadful crusty he was this morning, if any one tried to speak to him. miss meechin came along just as he was harnessing up, and asked if he couldn't give her something to ease up her sciatica a little mite, and what do you think he said? "take it to the guinea coast and drown it!" not another word could she get out of him. now, that's no way to talk to a patient. but doctor hasn't been himself since melody was stole; anybody could see that with his mouth. look at how he's treated that man with the operation, that kept him from going to find the child himself! he never said a word to him, they say, and tended him as careful as a woman, every day since he got hurt; but just as soon as he got through with him, he'd go out in the yard, they say, and swear at the pump, till it would turn your blood cold to hear him. it's gospel truth, for i had it from the nurse, and she said it chilled her marrow. yes, a violent man, doctor always was; and, too, he was dreadful put out at the way the man got hurt,--reaching out of his buggy to slat his neighbor's cow, just because he had a spite against him. seemed trifling, some thought, but he's like to pay for it. did you hear the sound of wheels? look at alice and alfred, over there with the baby; bound to have the first sight of them, aren't they, standing on the wall like that? they are as happy as two birds, ever since they made up that time. yes, melody's doing too, that was. she didn't know it; but she doesn't know the tenth of what she does. just the sight of her coming along the road--hark! surely i heard the click of the doctor's mare. does seem hard to wait, doesn't it? but rejoice,--what do you suppose it is for rejoice? only she's used to it, as you may say. yes, rejoice is used to waiting, surely; what else is her life? in the little white cottage now, mandy loomis, in a fever of excitement, is running from door to window, flapping out flies with her apron, opening the oven door, fidgeting here and there like a distracted creature; but in the quiet room, where rejoice lies with folded hands, all is peace, brooding peace and calm and blessedness. the sick woman does not even turn her head on the pillow; you would think she slept, if she did not now and again raise the soft brown eyes,--the most patient eyes in the world,--and turn them toward the window. yes, rejoice is used to waiting; yet it is she who first catches the far-off sound of wheels, the faint click of the brown mare's hoofs. with her bodily ears she hears it, though so still is she one might think the poor withered body deserted, and the joyous soul away on the road, hovering round the returning travellers as they make their triumphal entry. for all can see them now. first the brown mare's head, with sharp ears pricked, coming round the bend; then a gleam of white, a vision of waving hair, a light form bending forward. melody! melody has come back to us! they shout and laugh and cry, these quiet people. alfred and alice his wife have run forward, and are caressing the brown mare with tears of joy, holding the baby up for melody to feel and kiss, because it has grown so wonderfully in this week of her absence. mrs. penny is weeping down behind the hedge; mandy loomis is hurling herself out of the window as if bent on suicide; dr. brown pishes and pshaws, and blows his nose, and says they are a pack of ridiculous noodles, and he must give them a dose of salts all round to-morrow, as sure as his name is john brown. on the seat behind him sits melody, with miss vesta and the old fiddler on either side, holding a hand of each. she has hardly dared yet to loose her hold on these faithful hands; all the way from the city she has held them, with almost convulsive pressure. very high de arthenay holds his head, be sure! no marquis of all the line ever was prouder than he is this day. he kisses the child's little hand when he hears the people shout, and then shakes his snowy curl, and looks about him like a king. vesta dale has lost something of her stately carriage. her face is softer than people remember it, and one sees for the first time a resemblance to her sister. and dr. brown--oh, he fumes and storms at the people, and calls them a pack of noodles; but for all that, he cannot drive ten paces without turning round to make sure that it is all true,--that here is melody on the back seat, come home again, home, never to leave them again. but, hush, hush, dear children, running beside the wagon with cries of joy and happy laughter! quiet, all voices of welcome, ringing out from every throat, making the little street echo from end to end! quiet all, for melody is singing! standing up, held fast by those faithful hands on either side, the child lifts her face to heaven, lifts her heart to god, lifts up her voice in the evening hymn,-- "jubilate, jubilate! jubilate, amen!" the people stand with bowed heads, with hands folded as if in prayer. what is prayer, if this be not it? the evening light streams down, warm, airy gold; the clouds press near in pomp of crimson and purple. the sick woman holds her peace, and sees the angels of god ascending and descending, ministering to her. put off thy shoes from thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. "jubilate, jubilate! jubilate, amen!" the end. note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) the musical illustrations also have been transcribed and collected in two pdf files, links to which can be found at the beginning and the end of the html version. the exercises follow the exercises as numbered in the book in chapter ii (the head voice). the remainder of the musical fragments, which are unlabeled in the book, are noted as figures a through q (in the order in which they appear), and can be found in the figures pdf. the head voice and other problems practical talks on singing by d. a. clippinger author of systematic voice training the elements of voice culture . [illustration] boston oliver ditson company new york chicago chas. h. ditson & co. lyon & healy copyright mcmxvii by oliver ditson company international copyright secured _to_ my students _past, present and future_ introduction the following chapters are the outgrowth of an enthusiasm for the work of voice training, together with a deep personal interest in a large number of conscientious young men and women who have gone out of my studio into the world to engage in the responsible work of voice teaching. the desire to be of service to them has prompted me to put in permanent form the principles on which i labored, more or less patiently, to ground them during a course of three, four, or five years. the fact that after having stood the "grind" for that length of time they are still asking, not to say clamoring, for more, may, in a measure, justify the decision to issue this book. it is not an arraignment of vocal teachers, although there are occasional hints, public and private, which lead me to believe that we are not altogether without sin. but if this be true we take refuge in the belief that our iniquity is not inborn, but rather is it the result of the educational methods of those immediately preceding us. this at least shifts the responsibility. words are dangerous things, and are liable at any moment to start a verbal conflagration difficult to control. nowhere is this more likely to occur than in a discussion of voice training. from a rather wide acquaintance with what has been said on this subject in the past hundred years, i feel perfectly safe in submitting the proposition that the human mind can believe anything and be conscientious in it. things which have the approval of ages emit the odor of sanctity, and whoever scoffs does so at his peril. charles lamb was once criticised for speaking disrespectfully of the equator, and a noted divine was severely taken to task for making unkind remarks about hell. humanity insists that these time honored institutions be treated with due respect. i have an equal respect for those who believe as i do and those who do not; therefore if anything in this book is not in accord with popular opinion it is a crack at the head of the idol rather than that of the worshipper. there is no legislative enactment in this great and free country to prevent us from _believing_ anything we like, but there should be some crumbs of comfort in the reflection that we cannot _know_ anything but the truth. one may believe that eight and three are thirteen if it please him, but he cannot know it because it is not true. everything that is true has for its basis certain facts, principles, laws, and these are eternal and unchangeable. the instant the law governing any particular thing becomes definitely known, that moment it becomes undebatable. all argument is eliminated; but while we are searching for these laws we are dealing largely in opinions, and here the offense enters, for as mr. epictetus once said, "men become offended at their opinion of things, not at the things themselves." we can scarcely imagine any one taking offense at the multiplication table, neither is this interesting page from the arithmetic any longer considered a fit subject for debate in polite society, but so far as we know this is the only thing that is immune. our musical judgments, which are our opinions, are governed by our experience; and with the growth of experience they ripen into solid convictions. for many years i have had a conviction that voice training is much simpler and less involved than it is generally considered. i am convinced that far too much is made of the vocal mechanism, which under normal conditions always responds automatically. beautiful tone should be the primary aim of all voice teaching, and more care should be given to forming the student's tone concept than to that of teaching him how to control his throat by direct effort. the controlling power of a right idea is still much underestimated. the scientific plan of controlling the voice by means of mechanical directions leaves untouched the one thing which prevents its normal, automatic action, namely tension. but, someone inquires, "if the student is singing with rigid throat and tongue would you say nothing about it?" i would correct it, but not by telling him to hold his tongue down. a relaxed tongue is always in the right place, therefore all he needs to learn about the tongue is how to relax it. it has been hinted that he who subscribes to dr. fillebrown's declaration that [a]"the process of singing is psychologic rather than physiologic" has nothing tangible to work with. now tone concept and musical feeling are absolutely essential to singing, and they are definite entities to one who has them. all musical temperaments must be vitalized. imaginations must be trained until they will burst into flame at the slightest poetic suggestion. musical natures are not fixed quantities. they are all subject to the law of growth. every vocal student is an example of the law of evolution. few people find it easy in the beginning to assume instantly a state of intense emotion. these things are habits of mind which must be developed, and they furnish the teacher with definite problems. [a] _resonance in singing and speaking_, by thomas fillebrown. to repeat, _the tone is the thing_, and _how it sounds_ is what determines whether it is right or wrong. and so we come back again to the ear, which is the taste. does it please the ear? if so, is the ear reliable? not always. if all teachers were trying for the same tone quality there would be no need of further writing on the subject, but they are not. on the contrary no two of them are trying for exactly the same quality. each one is trying to make the voice produce his idea of tone quality, and the astounding thing about the human voice is that for a time at least, it can approximate almost anything that is demanded of it. if a voice is ruined, the ear of the teacher is directly responsible. it is useless to try to place the blame elsewhere. truth is always simple. if it seems difficult it is due to our clumsy way of stating it. thought, like melodies, should run on the line of the least resistance. in the following pages i have eschewed all mystifying polysyllabic verbiage, and as mark twain once said, have "confined myself to a categorical statement of facts unincumbered by an obscuring accumulation of metaphor and allegory." it is hoped that this book will be useful. it is offered as a guide rather than as a reformer. it aims to point in the right direction, and "do its bit" in emphasizing those things which are fundamental in voice training. whatever is true in it will reach and help those who need it. nothing more could be asked or desired. [illustration: (signed) d. a. clippinger] kimball hall, chicago. may, . contents introduction i. voice placing ii. the head voice iii. a general survey of the situation iv. hints on teaching v. the nature and meaning of art vi. singing as an art vii. the construction of a song viii. how to study a song ix. scientific voice production bibliography the head voice and other problems. i voice placing "the path of the sound, being formed of elastic and movable parts, varies its dimensions and forms in endless ways, and every modification--even the slightest--has a corresponding and definite influence on the voice." garcia. _hints on singing_. vocal teachers are rated primarily on their ability as voice builders. when students look for a teacher the first thing they want to know is: "can he build a voice?" his ability as an interpreter in most instances is taken for granted. why this is so is easily understood. there is a moving appeal in the pure singing tone of the human voice that cannot even be approximated by any other instrument. we have all heard voices that were so beautiful that to hear one of them vocalize for half an hour would be a musical feast. such a voice is so full of feeling, so vibrant with life and emotion that it moves one to the depths even if no words are used. it is only natural that all singers should be eager to possess such a voice, for it covers up a multitude of other musical misdemeanors. while it does not take the place altogether of the interpretative instinct, it does make the work of the singer much easier by putting his audience in sympathy with him from the beginning, thus to a considerable extent disarming criticism. the old italians attached so much importance to beautiful tone that they were willing to work conscientiously for half a dozen years to obtain it. to the beautiful tone they added a faultless technic. altogether it required from five to eight years to prepare and equip a singer for a career, but when he was thus prepared he could do astounding things in the way of trills, roulades, and cadenzas. the stories of many of these singers have come down to us through the musical histories, and the singing world has come to believe that the teachers alone were responsible. owing to her geographic location, her climate, language, and racial characteristics italy at one time furnished most of the great singers of the world, and the world with its usual lack of judgment and discrimination gave italian teachers all of the credit. that the best of the italian teachers were as near right as it is humanly possible to be, i have no doubt whatever, but along with the few singers who became famous there were hundreds who worked equally hard but were never heard of. a great voice is a gift of the creator, and the greater the gift the less there is to be done by the teacher. but in addition to what nature has done there is always much to be done by the teacher, and the nature of the vocal instrument is such that its training is a problem unique and peculiar. the voice can do so many different things, produce so many different kinds of tone, in such a variety of ways that the ability to determine which is right and which is wrong becomes a matter of aesthetic judgment rather than scientific or mechanical. if the scale, power, quality, and compass of the human voice were established as are those of the piano, the great problem in the training of a singer would be much simplified, possibly eliminated; but the singer must form the pitch, power, and quality of each tone as he uses it; therefore in the training of a singer we are constantly facing what has crystallized into the term =voice placing=. this term has been used as a peg upon which to hang every whim, fancy, formula, and vocal vagary that has floated through the human mind in the last two centuries. it has furnished an excuse for inflicting upon vocal students every possible product of the imagination, normal and abnormal, disguised in the word =method=, and the willingness with which students submit themselves as subjects for experiment is beyond belief. the more mysterious and abnormal the process the more faith they have in its efficacy. the nature of the vocal instrument, its wide range of possibilities, and its intimate relation to the imagination make it a peculiarly fit subject for experiment. the scientist has tried to analyze it, the mechanic has tried to make it do a thousand things nature never intended it to do, the reformer has tried to reform both, and the psychologist, nearest right of all, has attempted to remove it from the realm of the material altogether. there seems to be no way to stop this theorizing, and it doubtless will continue until the general musical intelligence reaches such a point that it automatically becomes impossible. we are constantly hearing such remarks as "mr. s knows how to place the voice." "mr. g does not." "mr. b places the voice high." "mr. r does not place the voice high enough." "mr. x is great at bringing the tone forward," etc., etc. this goes on through a long list of fragments of english difficult to explain even by those who use them. now voice placing means just one thing, not half a dozen. it means learning to produce =beautiful tone=. when one can produce beautiful tone throughout his vocal compass his voice is placed, and it is not placed until he can. the injunction to _place the voice_ invariably leaves in the mind of the student the idea that he must direct the tone to some particular point, in fact he is often urged to do so, whereas the truth is that when the tone is properly produced there is no thought of trying to put it anywhere. it seems to sing itself. there is a well established belief among students that the tone must be consciously directed to the point where it is supposed to focus. this belief is intimately associated with another equally erroneous, that the only way to tell whether a tone is good or bad, right or wrong, is by the way it feels. a tone is something to hear. it makes its appeal to the ear, and why one should rely on the sense of feeling to tell whether it sounds right or wrong is something difficult to understand. further, explicit directions are given for the action and control of everything involved in making tone except the mind of the student. the larynx seems to be particularly vulnerable and is subject to continuous attack. one says it should be held low throughout the compass. another says it should rise as the pitch rises, and still another, that it should drop as the pitch rises. instructions of this kind do not enlighten, they mystify. if there be any one thing upon which voice teachers theoretically agree it is "free throat". even those who argue for a fixed larynx agree to this, notwithstanding it is a physical impossibility to hold the larynx in a fixed position throughout the compass without a considerable amount of rigidity. it is like believing in infinite love and eternal punishment at the same time. when the larynx is free it will not and should not be in the same position at all times. it will be a little lower for somber tones than for bright tones. it will be a little higher for the vowel e than for oo or o, but the adjustments will be _automatic_, never conscious. it cannot be too often reiterated that every part of the vocal mechanism must act automatically, and it is not properly controlled until it does. the soft palate also comes in for its share of instruction. i was once taught to raise it until the uvula disappeared. later i was taught to relax it. both of these movements of the soft palate were expected to result in a beautiful tone. now if two things which are directly opposed to each other are equal to the same thing, then there is no use in bothering our heads further with logic. such directions i believe to be of doubtful value, if not irrelevant. we must learn that _an idea has definite form_, and that when the mechanism is free, that is, plastic, the idea molds it into a corresponding form and the expression becomes a perfect picture of the idea. this is what is meant by indirect control, involuntary, automatic action. one could write indefinitely on the peculiarities of voice training, the unique suggestions made, the mechanical instructions given, the unbelievable things students are made to do with lips, tongue and larynx as a necessary preparation to voice production. in this as in everything else there are extremists. some have such an exquisite sense of detail that they never get beyond it. at the other extreme are those who trust everything to take care of itself. both overlook the most important thing, namely, how the voice sounds. it requires much time, study and experience to learn that voice training is simple. it is a fact that truth is naturally, inherently simple. its mastery lies in removing those things which seem to make it difficult and complex. training the voice, this so called "voice placing," is simple and easy when one has risen above that overwhelming amount of fiction, falsity, and fallacy that has accumulated around it, obscuring the truth and causing many well intentioned teachers to follow theories and vagaries that have no foundation in fact, and which lead both teacher and pupil astray. if there is any truth applicable to voice training it has an underlying principle, for truth is the operation of principle. if we start wrong we shall end wrong. if we start right and continue according to principle we shall reach the desired goal. =voice training has its starting point, its basis, its foundation, in beautiful tone.= this should be the aim of both teacher and pupil from the beginning. to produce something beautiful is the aim of all artistic activity. beautiful tone, as whistler said of all art, has its origin in absolute truth. that which is not beautiful cannot possibly be true, for real nature, which is the expression of infinite mind, is always perfect, and no perfect thing can be ugly, discordant, or inharmonious. the imperfection we see is the result of our own imperfect understanding of the real universe. a _tone is something to hear_, and =hearing is mental=. an old french anatomist once said: "the eye sees what it is looking for, and it is looking only for what it has in mind." the same is true of the ear. we hear the tone mentally before we sing it, and we should hear it as distinctly as if it were sung by another. a tone first of all is a mental product, and its pitch, power, and quality are definite mental entities. when we wish to convey this tone to another we do it through the sound producing instrument which nature has provided for this purpose. that everything exists first as idea has been the teaching of the philosophers for ages. that the idea is the controlling, governing force is equally well understood. therefore, inasmuch as the aim of all voice building is to produce beautiful tone we must start with the right idea of tone. this is where the first and greatest difficulty appears. to most people a tone is intangible and difficult to define. one will rarely find a student that can formulate anything approaching a definition of a musical tone and i fancy many teachers would find it far from easy. unless one has a grasp of the psychology of voice, and a great many have not, he will begin to work with what he can see. here enters the long dreary mechanical grind that eventually ruins the temper of both teacher and student, and results in nothing but mechanical singing, instead of a joyous, inspiring musical performance. in studying the pure singing tone we find the following: it is _smooth_, _steady_, _firm_, _rich_, _resonant_, _sympathetic_. we shall also find that all of its qualities and attributes are mental. it must contain the element of freedom (mental), firmness (mental), security (mental), sympathy (mental), enthusiasm, sentiment, joy, compassion, pity, love, sorrow (all mental). these are all qualities of the singing tone. they are not intangible. on the contrary, to the one who has them they are definite and are the things he works for from the beginning. they are basic and fundamental. all are combined in what i call _tone concept_, which is another word for musical ear, or musical taste. this tone concept is by far the most important thing in voice training. the student will not sing a tone better than the one he conceives mentally, therefore the mental concept of tone, or tone concept must be the basis of voice placing. this tone concept, or mental picture of tone qualities controls the vocal instrument by indirection. true tone color does not come as the result of trying by some physical process to make the tone light or dark, but _from the automatic response to musical concept or feeling_. in leaving this subject i wish to pay my respects to that company of cheerful sinners--the open throat propagandists. i was taught in my youth that the punishment for a sin committed ignorantly was none the less pungent and penetrating, and i trust that in administering justice to these offenders the powers will be prompt, punctilious and persevering. it is a worthy activity. no mistake of greater magnitude was ever made since voice training began than that of holding the throat open by direct effort. it never resulted in a tone a real musician's ear could endure, nevertheless during the latter part of the nineteenth century and even the early part of the twentieth it was made such an integral part of voice culture that it seemed to be incorporated in the law of heredity, and vocal students, even before they were commanded, would try to make a large cavity in the back of the throat. i believe however, that there is much less of this than formerly. vocal teachers are beginning to see that the one important thing is a free throat and that when this is gained the response of the mechanism to the mental demand is automatic and unerring. ii the head voice let him take care, however, that the higher the notes, the more it is necessary to touch them with softness, to avoid screaming. tosi. ( - ) _observations on florid song_. that the development of the upper, or head voice, is the most difficult as well as the most important part of the training of the singing voice, will be readily admitted by every experienced singing teacher. that the upper voice should be produced with as much comfort as the middle or lower, is scarcely debatable. that a majority of singers produce their upper voice with more or less difficulty, need not be argued. why is it that after two, three or more years of study so many upper voices are still thick, harsh and unsteady? there is nothing in the tone world so beautiful as the male or female head voice when properly produced, and there is nothing so excruciatingly distressing as the same voice when badly produced. the pure head voice is unique in its beauty. it is full of freedom, elasticity, spiritual exaltation. it seems to float, as it were, in the upper air without connection with a human throat. its charm is irresistible. it is a joy alike to the singer and the listener. it is the most important part of any singer's equipment. why is it so difficult and why do so few have it? various reasons are at hand. the spirit of american enterprise has found its way into voice teaching. it is in the blood of both teacher and pupil. the slogan is "put it over." this calls for big tone and they do not see why they should not have it at once. the ability to use the full power of the upper voice when occasion demands is necessary and right, but merely to be able to sing high and loud means nothing. all that is required for that is a strong physique and determination. such voice building requires but little time and no musical sense whatever; but to be able to sing the upper register with full power, emotional intensity, musical quality and ease, is the result of long and careful work under the ear of a teacher whose sense of tone quality is so refined that it will detect instantly the slightest degree of resistance and not allow it to continue. the ambitious young singer who has been told by the village oracle that she has a great voice and all she needs is a little "finishing," balks at the idea of devoting three or four years to the process, and so she looks for some one who will do it quickly and she always succeeds in finding him. to do this work correctly the old italians insisted on from five to eight years with an hour lesson each day. to take such a course following the modern plan of one or two half hours a week, would have the student treading on the heels of methuselah before it was completed. it is not always easy to make students understand that the training of the voice means the development of the musical mentality and at best is never a short process. to most of them voice culture is a physical process and as they are physically fit, why wait? now the fact is that there is nothing physical in voice production save the instrument, and a strong physique has no more to do with good singing than it has with good piano playing. voice production is a mental phenomenon. it is mentality of the singer impressing itself on the vocal instrument and expressing itself through it. the idea that the vocal instrument alone without mental guidance will produce beautiful tone is as fallacious as that a grand piano will produce good music whether the one at the keyboard knows how to play it or not. let it be understood once for all that _it is the mentality of the individual, not his body, that is musical or unmusical_. both teacher and student must learn that there is much more to do mentally and much less to do physically than most people suspect. they must learn that a musical mentality is no less definite than a physical body, and is at least equally important; also that right thinking is as necessary to good voice production as it is to mathematics. at this point there will doubtless be a strenuous objection from those who assert that tone cannot be produced without effort, and that a considerable amount of it is necessary, especially in the upper voice. it will be readily admitted that the application of force is required to produce tone, but how much force? certainly not that extreme physical effort that makes the singer red in the face and causes his upper tones to shriek rather than sing. such a display of force discloses an erroneous idea of how to produce the upper voice. when there is the right relation existing between the breath and the vocal instrument, when there is the proper poise and balance of parts, no such effort is necessary. on the contrary the tone seems to flow and the effort required is only that of a light and pleasant physical exercise. the pianist does not have to strike the upper tones any harder than the lower ones in order to bring out their full power. why should the upper part of the voice require such prodigious effort? now _all voices should have a head register_. it is a part of nature's equipment, and this calls for a word on the classification of voices. it ought not to be difficult to determine whether a voice is soprano, alto, tenor, baritone or bass, but i find each year a considerable number that have been misled. why? a number of things are responsible. one of the most common is that of mistaking a soprano who has a chest register for an alto. this singer finds the low register easier to sing than the upper, consequently she and her friends decide she is an alto. thereafter she sings low songs and takes the alto part in the choir. the longer she follows this plan the less upper voice she will have, and when she goes to a teacher, unless he has a discriminating and analytical ear, he will allow her to remain in the alto class. there is always something in the fiber of a tone, even though it be badly produced, that will disclose to the trained ear what it will be when rightly produced. again, the human voice can produce such a variety of tone qualities that sometimes a soprano will cultivate a somber style of singing and a majority of people will call her alto. it requires a trained ear to detect what she is doing. the baritone also, because he often sings the bass part in a quartet, tries to make himself sound like a bass; this he does by singing with a somber, hollow quality which has little or no carrying power. another mistake is that of classifying a voice according to its compass. this is the least reliable method of all. the mere fact of having high tones does not necessarily make one a soprano, neither is a voice always to be classified as alto by reason of not being able to sing high. it is _quality_ that decides what a voice is. soprano is a quality. alto is a quality. the terms tenor, baritone, bass, refer to a quality rather than a compass. these qualities are determined primarily by the construction of the organ. but when voices are properly trained there is not so much difference in the compass as most people suppose. for example: the female head voice lies approximately within this compass [illustration: figure a] and altos who learn to use the real head voice will have no difficulty in vocalizing that high. at the lower end of the voice sopranos who have a chest register will often sing as low as most altos. but whether they sing high or low it is always the quality that determines the classification of the voice. many lyric sopranos have no chest register, and it would be a mistake to attempt to develop one. in such voices, which rarely have anything below middle c, the middle register must be strengthened and carried down and made to take the place of the chest voice. it must not be understood that there is but one soprano quality, one alto quality, etc. the voice is so individual that it cannot be thus limited. there are many soprano qualities between the coloratura and the dramatic, and the same is true of alto, tenor, baritone and bass. when the voice is rightly produced, its natural quality will invariably appear, and there it must be allowed to remain. an attempt to change it always means disaster. it will be observed that the piano string diminishes in length and thickness as the pitch rises, and the voice must do something which corresponds to this. otherwise it will be doing that which approximates stretching the middle c string, for example, until it will produce its octave. in discussing the head voice it is the purpose to avoid as much as possible the mechanical construction of the instrument. this may be learned from the numerous books on the anatomy and physiology of the voice. it is an interesting subject, but beyond an elementary knowledge it is of little value to the teacher. a correct knowledge of how to train the voice must be gained in the studio, not in the laboratory. its basis is the musical sense rather than the mechanical or scientific. all of the scientific or mechanical knowledge that the world has to offer is no preparation for voice training. a knowledge of the art of teaching begins when the teacher takes his first pupil, not before. therefore the aim shall be to present the subject as it appears to the teacher. we hear much of the value of vocal physiology as a guide to good voice production. it is also claimed that a knowledge of it will prevent the singer from misusing his voice and at the same time act as a panacea for vocal ills. these statements do not possess a single element of truth. the only way the singer can injure the vocal instrument is by forcing it. that is, by setting up a resistance in the vocal cords that prevents their normal action. if this is persevered in it soon becomes a habit which results in chronic congestion. singing becomes increasingly difficult, especially in the upper voice, and in course of time the singer discovers that he has laryngitis. will a knowledge of vocal physiology cure laryngitis? never. will it prevent any one from singing "throaty?" there is no instance of the kind on record. in a majority of cases laryngitis and other vocal ills are the direct results of bad voice production and disappear as the singer learns to produce his upper tones without resistance. these things are effects, not causes, and to destroy the effect we must remove the cause. this will be found to be a wrong habit and habits are mental, not physical. when a mental impulse and its consequent response become simultaneous and automatic the result is a habit, but it is the mental impulse that has become automatic. the terms, _tension_, _rigidity_, _interference_, _resistance_, all mean essentially the same thing. they mean the various forms of contraction in the vocal instrument which prevents its involuntary action. if we follow these things back far enough we shall find that they all have their origin in some degree of fear. this fear, of which anxiety is a mild form, begins to show itself whenever the singer attempts tones above the compass of his speaking voice. here is undeveloped territory. the tone lacks power, quality and freedom, and as power is what the untrained singer always seeks first, he begins to force it. in a short time he has a rigid throat, and the longer he sings the more rigid it becomes. by the time he decides to go to a teacher his voice is in such a condition that he must take his upper tones with a thick, throaty quality or with a light falsetto. among female voices i have seen many that could sing nothing but a full tone in the upper register, and that only with an unsteady, unsympathetic quality. now a point upon which all voice teachers can agree is that the upper voice is not properly trained until it has a perfect _messa di voce_ that is, until the singer can swell the tone from the lightest pianissimo to full voice and return, on any tone in his compass, without a break and without sacrificing the pure singing quality. how shall this be accomplished? if the singer is forcing the upper voice it is safe to say in the beginning that it never can be done by practicing with full voice. such practice will only fasten the habit of resistance more firmly upon the singer. to argue in the affirmative is equivalent to saying that the continued practice of a bad tone will eventually produce a good tone. there is but one way to the solution of the problem; the singer must get rid of resistance. when he has succeeded in doing that the problem of the head voice is solved. the bugaboo of voice placing permanently disappears. the difficulty so many have in placing the upper voice lies in this, that they try to do it without removing the one thing which prevents them from doing it. when the voice is free from resistance it places itself, that is, it produces without effort whatever quality the singer desires. the term "head voice," doubtless grew out of the sensation in the head which accompanies the upper tones, and this sensation is the result of the vibration of the air in the air head cavities. many have taken this sensation as a guide to the production of the head voice, and in order to make sure of it they instruct the student to direct the tone into the head. this is not only an uncertain and unnecessary procedure, but is almost sure to develop a resistance which effectually prevents the tone from reaching the head cavities. when there is no interference the tone runs naturally into the proper channel. it is not necessary to use force to put it there. head resonance whether or not the head cavities act as resonators is one of the many mooted points in voice training. those who believe they do are much in the majority, but those in the minority are equally confident they do not. what are the arguments? that there is a sensation in the head cavities when singing in the upper part of the compass no one can deny. does it affect tone quality? the minority offers the argument that it cannot do so because the soft palate automatically rises in singing a high tone, thus closing the passage through the nose. on the other side it is argued, and rightly, that the soft palate can be trained to remain low in singing high tones. but whether the soft palate is high or low does not settle the matter. it is not at all necessary that breath should pass through the nasal cavities in order to make them act as resonators. in fact it is necessary that it should not. it is the air that is already in the cavities that vibrates. all who are acquainted with resonating tubes understand this. neither is it necessary that the vibrations should be transmitted to the head cavities by way of the pharynx and over the soft palate. they may be transmitted through the bones of the head. john howard proved this, to his satisfaction at least, many years ago. i recall that in working with emil behnke he used an exercise to raise the soft palate and completely close the channel, yet no one can deny that his pupils had head resonance. there are certain facts in connection with this that are hard to side-step. plunket greene once told me that at one time he lost the resonance in the upper part of his voice, and on consulting a specialist he found a considerable growth on the septum. he had it removed and at once the resonance returned. other equally strong arguments could be offered in support of the claim that the head cavities do act as resonators. at any rate the high or low palate is not the deciding factor. too much cannot be said on the subject of interference, or resistance. so long as there is any of it in evidence it has its effect on tone quality. it is the result of tension, and tension is a mental impulse of a certain kind. its antidote is relaxation, which is a mental impulse of an opposite nature. it is necessary for most singers to work at this until long after they think they have it. in preparing the head voice the student must begin with a tone that is entirely free from resistance and build from that. in a large majority of voices it means practicing with a light, soft tone. a voice that cannot sing softly is not rightly produced. while the student is working for the freedom which will give him a good half voice he is preparing the conditions for a good full voice. the conditions are not right for the practice of full voice until the last vestige of resistance has disappeared. the light voice is as necessary to artistic success as the full voice. the singer must have both, but he must never sacrifice quality for power. in the female voice the readjustments of the mechanism known as changes of register usually occur at about [illustration: figure b]. in many lyric soprano voices i have found the same readjustment at the b and c above the staff [illustration: figure c]. i have also noted in many bass voices a similar change of adjustment at the e and f below the bass clef [illustration: figure d]. it would seem therefore, that in a majority of voices until an even scale has been developed, that these readjustments appear at about the e and f and b and c throughout the vocal compass. the exceptions to this rule are so numerous however, that it can scarcely be called a rule. some voices will have but one noticeable readjustment, and it may be any one of the three. in some voices the changes are all imperceptible. in others, due to wrong usage, they are abrupt breaks. in every instance the teacher must give the voice what it needs to perfect an even scale. there should be no more evidence of register changes in the vocal scale than in the piano scale. leaving the lower two changes for the moment, let us consider the one at the upper e and f. this one is so common among sopranos that there are few who have not one, two, or three weak tones at this point. to avoid these weak tones many are taught to carry the thicker tones of the middle register up as far as they can force them in order to get the "big tone" which seems to be the sole aim of much modern voice teaching. the victims of this manner of teaching never use the real head voice, and one thing happens to them all. as time goes on the upper voice grows more and more difficult, the high tones disappear one by one, and at the time when they should be doing their best singing they find themselves vocal wrecks. some of them change from soprano to alto and end by that route. now these are not instances that appear at long intervals. they are in constant evidence and the number is surprisingly large. the cause is ignorance of how to treat the upper voice, together with an insane desire for a "big tone" and a lack of patience to await until it grows. the incredible thing is that there is a teacher living whose ear will tolerate such a thing. now there is a way to develop the head voice that gives the singer not only the full power of his upper voice, but makes it free, flexible and vibrant, a sympathetic quality, a perfect _messa di voce_, and enables him to sing indefinitely without tiring his voice. he must learn that it is possible to produce a full tone with a light mechanism. this is the natural way of producing the head voice. further, the light mechanism must be carried far below the point where the so called change of register occurs. every voice should have a head register, and it may be developed in the following way. with altos and sopranos i start with this exercise [illustration: exercise no. ] altos should begin at a. the student should neither feel nor hear the tone in the throat. therefore he should begin with a soft _oo_. the throat should be free, lips relaxed but slightly forward. there should be no puckering of the lips for _oo_. the tone should seem to form itself around the lips, not in the throat. in the beginning the exercise must be practiced softly. no attempt must be made to increase the power, until the tone is well established in the light mechanism. when the _oo_ can be sung softly and without resistance as high as e flat use the same exercise with _o_. the next step is to blend this light mechanism with the heavier mechanism. it may be done in this way, [illustration: exercise no. ] sing this descending scale with a crescendo, always beginning it _pp_. it should be practiced very slowly at first, and with portamento. carrying the head voice down over the middle and the middle down over the lower will in a short time blend all parts of the voice, and lay the foundation of an even scale. the exercise should be transposed upward by half steps as the voice becomes more free until it reaches f or f sharp. the next step is the building process. use the following: [illustration: exercise no. ] altos should begin at a. in practicing these swells great care must be taken. tone quality is the first consideration, and the tone must be pressed no further than is possible while retaining the pure singing quality. where voices have been forced and are accustomed to sing nothing but thick tones this building process is sometimes slow. the student finds an almost irresistible tendency to increase the resistance as he increases the power of the tone. therefore the louder he sings the worse it sounds. this kind of practice will never solve the problem. when the student is able to swell the tone to full power without increasing the resistance the problem is solved. the progress of the student in this, as in everything in voice training, depends upon _the ear of the teacher_. the untrained ear of the student is an unreliable guide. the sensitive ear of the teacher must at all times be his guide. the belief that every one knows a good tone when he hears it has no foundation in fact. if the student's concept of tone were perfect he would not need a teacher. he would have the teacher within himself. every one knows what he likes, and what he likes is of necessity his standard at that particular time, but it is only the measure of his taste and may be different the next day. all things in voice training find their court of last resort in the ear of the teacher. all other knowledge is secondary to this. he may believe any number of things that are untrue about the voice, but if he have a thoroughly refined ear it will prevent him from doing anything wrong. his ear is his taste, his musical sense, and it is his musical sense, his musical judgment, that does the teaching. so in building the head voice the teacher must see to it that musical quality is never sacrificed for power. a full tone is worse than useless, unless the quality is musical and this can never be accomplished until the vocal instrument is free from resistance. exercise no. should be transposed upward by half steps, but never beyond the point at which it can be practiced comfortably. as tension shows most in the upper part of the voice the student should have, as a part of his daily practice, exercises which release the voice as it rises. use the following: [illustration: exercise no. ] begin with medium power and diminish to _pp_ as indicated. the upper tone must not only be sung softly, but the throat must be entirely free. there must be no sense of holding the tone. transpose to the top of the voice. [illustration: exercise no. ] no. is for the same purpose as no. but in an extended form. begin with rather full voice and diminish to _pp_ ascending. increase to full voice descending. continue the building of the upper voice using the complete scale. [illustration: exercise no. ] thus far in preparing the head voice we have used the vowels _oo_ and _o_. we may proceed to the vowel _ah_ in the following way. using ex. no. first sing _o_ with loose but somewhat rounded lips. when this tone is well established sing _o_ with the same quality, the same focus, or placing without rounding the lips. it amounts to singing _o_ with the _ah_ position. when this can be done then use short _u_ as in the word _hum_. this gives approximately the placing for _ah_ in the upper voice. when these vowels can all be sung with perfect freedom transpose upward by half steps. [illustration: exercise no. ] in no. when the crescendo has been made on the upper tone carry the full voice to the bottom of the scale. [illustration: exercise no. ] this is another way of blending the different parts of the voice. it should be sung portamento in both directions. when sung by a female voice it will be middle, head, middle as indicated by the letters m, h, m. when sung by the male voice it will be chest, head, chest as indicated by the letters c, h, c. transpose upward by half steps. when the foregoing exercises are well in hand the head voice may be approached from the middle and lower registers in scale form as in the following: [illustration: exercise no. ] [illustration: exercise no. ] [illustration: exercise no. .] [illustration: exercise no. .] [illustration: exercise no. .] the fact that male voices are more often throaty in the upper register then female voices calls for special comment. the following diagram showing the relationship of the two voices will help to elucidate the matter. [illustration: figure e] i have here used three octaves of the vocal compass as sufficient for the illustration. remembering that the male voice is an octave lower than the female voice we shall see that the female voice is a continuation, as it were, of the male voice; the lower part of the female compass overlapping the upper part of the male compass, the two having approximately an octave g to g in common. further it will be seen that both male and female voices do about the same thing at the same absolute pitches. at about e flat or e above middle c the alto or soprano passes from the chest to the middle register. it is at the same absolute pitches that the tenor passes from what is usually called open to covered tone, but which might better be called from chest to head voice. there is every reason to believe that the change in the mechanism is the same as that which occurs in the female voice at the same pitches. that there is oftentimes a noticeable readjustment of the mechanism in uncultivated voices at these pitches no observing teacher will deny, and these are the voices which are of special interest to the teacher, and the ones for which books are made. it will be observed that this change in the male voice takes place in the upper part of his compass instead of in the lower, as in the female voice. this change which is above the compass of the speaking voice of the tenor or baritone, adds greatly to its difficulty. for this reason the training of the male head voice requires more care and clearer judgment than anything else in voice training. in treating this part of the female voice we have learned that if the heavy, or chest voice, is carried up to g or a above middle c it weakens the tones of the middle register until they finally become useless. then the chest tones become more difficult and disappear one by one and the voice has no further value. identically the same thing happens to the tenor who, by reason of sufficient physical strength forces his chest voice up to g, a, or b flat. he may be able to continue this for awhile, sometimes for a few years, but gradually his upper tones become more difficult and finally impossible and another vocal wreck is added to the list. in restoring the female voice that has carried the chest voice too high it is necessary to carry the middle register down, sometimes as low as middle c until it has regained its power. the tenor or baritone must do essentially the same thing. he must carry the head voice, which is a lighter mechanism than the chest voice, down as low as this c [illustration: figure f] using what is often called mixed voice. when the pitches [illustration: figure g] are practiced with a sufficiently relaxed throat the tone runs naturally into the head resonator with a feeling almost the equivalent of that of a nasal tone, but this tone will be in no sense nasal. it will be head voice. the falsetto does the falsetto have any part in the development of the head voice? this inoffensive thing is still the subject of a considerable amount of more of less inflammatory debate both as to what it is and what it does. without delay let me assure every one that it is perfectly harmless. there is no other one thing involved in singing, immediate or remote, from which the element of harm is so completely eliminated. it is held by some that it is produced by the false vocal chords. this position is untenable for the reason that i have known many singers who could go from the falsetto to a full ringing tone and return with no perceptible break. now since it will hardly be argued that a ringing, resonant tone could be produced by the false vocal cords, it is evident that the singer must change from the false to the true vocal cords somewhere in the process--a thing which is unthinkable. it is held by others that the falsetto is a relic of the boy's voice, which has deteriorated from lack of use. this seems not unreasonable, and a considerable amount of evidence is offered in support of it. we may safely assume however that it is produced by the true vocal cords and the lightest register in the male voice. what is its use? unless its quality can be changed it has little or no musical value. there are some teachers who claim that the falsetto mechanism is the correct one for the tenor voice and should be used throughout the entire compass. i am not prepared to subscribe to this. there are others who believe that the falsetto should be developed, resonated, so that it loses its flute quality, and blended with the head voice. this seems in the light of my experience to be reasonable. when this can be done it gives the singer the most perfect mechanism known. but it cannot always be done. the voice is individual, and the entire sum of individual experience leaves its impression on it. i have found many voices where the falsetto was so completely detached from the head voice that it would be a waste of time to attempt to blend them. but there is one place in voice training where the practice of the falsetto has a distinct value. i have seen many tenors and baritones who forced the heavy chest voice up until they developed an automatic clutch, and could sing the upper tones only with extreme effort. to allow them to continue in that way would never solve their problem. in such a condition half voice is impossible. it must be one thing or the other, either the thick chest voice or falsetto. the falsetto they can produce without effort, and herein lies its value. they become accustomed to hearing their high tones without the association of effort, and after a time the real head voice appears. the thing which prevented the head voice from appearing in the beginning was extreme resistance, and as soon as the resistance disappeared the head voice made its appearance. this was accomplished by the practice of the very light register known as falsetto. when the head voice appears the use of the falsetto may be discontinued. the thing expected of the teacher is results and he should not be afraid to use anything that will contribute to that end. it is in the upper part of the voice that mistakes are most likely to be made and ninety nine per cent of the mistakes is forcing the voice, that is, singing with too much resistance. so long as the resistance continues a good full tone is impossible. the plan outlined above for eliminating resistance has been tested with many hundreds of voices and has never failed. the idea held by some that such practice can never produce a large tone shows a complete misunderstanding of the whole matter. that it produces the full power of the voice without sacrificing its musical quality is being proved constantly. every day we hear the story of voices ruined by forcing high tones. who is responsible? each one must answer for himself. with the hope of diminishing it in some degree, this outline is offered. iii a general survey of the situation "i will roar you as gently as any sucking dove: i will roar you an't were any nightingale." shakespeare. _a midsummer night's dream_. the singing world is confronted with a situation unique in its humor. on every side we hear the lachrymose lament that voice training is in a chaotic condition, that _bel canto_ is a lost art, and that the golden age of song has vanished from the earth. the unanimity of this dolorous admission would seem to be a sad commentary on the fraternity of voice teachers; but here enters the element of humor. there is not recorded a single instance of a voice teacher admitting that his own knowledge of the voice is chaotic. he will admit cheerfully and oftentimes with ill concealed enthusiasm that every other teacher's knowledge is in a chaotic condition, but his own is a model of order and intelligence. if we accept what voice teachers think of themselves the future looks rosy. if we accept what they think of each other the future is ominous and the need for reform is dire and urgent. but if a reform be ordered where shall it begin? obviously among the teachers themselves. but judging from the estimate each one puts upon himself how shall we reform a thing which is already perfect? on the other hand, if we take the pessimistic attitude that all teachers are wrong will it not be a case of the blind leading the blind, in which instance their destination is definitely determined somewhere in the new testament. verily the situation is difficult. nevertheless it is not altogether hopeless. the impulse to sing still remains. more people are studying singing, and more people sing well today than at any other time in the history of the world. the impulse to sing is as old as the human race. when the joy of life first welled up within man and demanded utterance the vocal instrument furnished by nature was ready to respond and the art of singing began, and if we may venture a prophecy it will never end in this world or the next. it cannot be destroyed even by the teachers themselves. it is this natural, inborn desire to sing that is directly responsible for the amazing perseverance of many vocal students. if after a year or two of study they find they are wrong they are not greatly disturbed, but select another teacher, firm in the faith that eventually they will find the right one and be safely led to the realization of their one great ambition--to be an artist. it is this that has kept the art alive through the centuries and will perpetuate it. this impulse to sing is something no amount of bad teaching can destroy. the reform everything in the universe that has come under the scrutiny of mortal man has been subjected to a perpetual reformation. nothing is too great or too small to engage the attention of the reformer. religion, politics, medicine and race suicide are objects of his special solicitude, but nothing else has been forgotten. no phase of human activity has been allowed to remain at rest. so far as we know nothing but the multiplication table has escaped the reformer. there is a general feeling that nothing is exactly right. this may be the operation of the law of progress, doubtless it is, but it occasions a mighty unrest, and keeps the world wondering what will happen next. this law of progress is but another name for idealism to which the world owes everything. idealism is that which sees a better condition than the one which now obtains. the process of realizing this better condition is in itself reformation. as far back as we have any knowledge of the art of singing the reformers have been at work, and down through the centuries their energies have been unflagging. we owe to them whatever advance has been made toward a perfect system of voice training, but they are also responsible for many things pernicious in their nature which have been incorporated in present day methods of teaching, for it must be admitted that there are false prophets among singing teachers no less than among the members of other professions. there is one interesting thing connected with the work of these vocal reformers. from the beginning they have insisted that the art of _bel canto_ is lost. tosi ( - ), porpora ( - ), mancini ( - ), three of the greatest teachers of the old italian school, all lamented the decadence of the art of singing. others before and since have done the same thing. it seems that in all times any one who could get the public ear has filled it with this sort of pessimistic wail. from this we draw some interesting conclusions: first, that the real art of singing was lost immediately after it was found. second, that the only time it was perfect was when it began. third, that ever since it began we have been searching for it without success. if any of this is true it means that all of the great singers of the past two hundred years have been fakers, because they never really learned how to sing. it is surprising that we did not see through these musical jeremiahs long ago. in all ages there have been good teachers and bad ones, and it would not be surprising if the bad ones outnumbered the good ones; but the weak link in the chain of argument is in estimating the profession by its failures. this is a cheap and much overworked device and discloses the egotism of the one using it. there are teachers today who thoroughly understand the art of _bel canto_. they have not lost it, and the others never had it. this condition has obtained for centuries and will continue indefinitely. an art should be measured by its best exponents, not by its worst. to measure it by its failures is illogical and dishonest. in recent years the process of reformation has been applied to all branches of music teaching with the hope of reducing these failures to a minimum. the profession has suddenly awakened to the fact that it must give a better reason for its existence than any heretofore offered. it has become clear to the professional mind that in order to retain and enlarge its self-respect music must be recognized as a part of the great human uplift. to this end it has been knocking at the doors of the institutions of learning asking to be admitted and recognized as a part of public education. the reply has been that music teaching must first develop coherence, system and standards. this has caused music teachers to look about and realize as never before that the profession as a whole has no organization and no fixed educational standards. every teacher fixes his own standard and is a law unto himself. the standard is individual, and if the individual conscience is sufficiently elastic the standard gives him no serious concern. but as a result of this awakening there is a concerted action throughout the country to standardize, to define the general scope of learning necessary to become a music teacher. the trend of this is in the right direction, and good may be expected from it, although at best it can be but a very imperfect method of determining one's fitness to teach. the determining factors in teaching are things which cannot be discovered in any ten questions. in fact an examination must necessarily confine itself to general information, but in teaching, the real man reveals himself. his high sense of order, logic, patience, his love and appreciation of the beautiful, his personality, his moral sense, the mental atmosphere of his studio, these all enter into his teaching and they are things difficult to discover in an examination. unconsciously the teacher gives out himself along with the music lesson, and it is equally important with his knowledge of music. therefore it is as difficult to establish definite standards of teaching as it is of piano or violin making. in attempting to establish standards of voice teaching the problem becomes positively bewildering. the voice is so completely and persistently individual, and in the very nature of things must always remain so, that an attempt to standardize it or those who train it is dangerous. yet notwithstanding this, voice teachers are the most industrious of all in their efforts to organize and standardize. the insistence with which this aim is prosecuted is worthy of something better than is likely to be achieved. that there is no standard among voice teachers save that of the individual will be admitted without argument; and until there is such a thing as a fixed standard of musical taste this condition will remain, for the musical taste of the teacher is by far the most potent factor in the teaching of tone production. of late there have been vigorous efforts to establish a standard tone for singers. this, according to the apostles of "harmony in the ranks," is the one way of unifying the profession. as an argument this is nothing short of picturesque, and can be traced to those unique and professedly scientific mentalities that solve all vocal problems by a mathematical formula. as an example of the chimerical, impossible and altogether undesirable, it commands admiration. if it is impossible to establish a standard tone for pianos where the problem is mechanical, what may we expect to do with voice where the problem is psychological? when we have succeeded in making all people look alike, act alike, think alike; when we have eliminated all racial characteristics and those resulting from environment; when people are all of the same size, weight, proportion, structure; when skulls are all of the same size, thickness and density; when all vocal organs and vocal cavities are of the same form and size; when we have succeeded in equalizing all temperaments; when there is but one climate, one language, one government, one religion; when there is no longer such a thing as individuality--then perhaps a standard tone may be considered. until that time nothing could be more certain of failure. the great charm of voices is their individuality, which is the result not alone of training, but of ages of varied experience, for man is the sum of all that has preceded him. it is, to say the least, an extraordinary mentality that would destroy this most vital element in singing for the sake of working out a scientific theory. but there is no immediate danger. nature, whose chief joy is in variety and contrast, is not likely to sacrifice it suddenly to a mere whim. when we speak of a standard tone we enter the domain of acoustics and must proceed according to the laws of physics. in this standard tone there must be a fundamental combined with certain overtones. but who shall say which overtones, and why the particular combination? the answer must be "because it sounds best." a tone being something to hear, this is a logical and legitimate answer. but if the listener knows when it sounds right he knows it entirely separate and apart from any knowledge he may have of its scientific construction; hence such knowledge is of no value whatever in determining what is good and what is bad in tone quality. a tone is not a thing to see and the teacher cannot use a camera and a manometric flame in teaching tone production. any knowledge he may have gained from the use of such instruments in the laboratory is valueless in teaching. if it were possible to adopt as a standard tone a certain combination of fundamental and overtones (which it is not), and if it were possible to make all singers use this particular tone (which, thank heaven it is not), then all voices would sound alike and individuality would at once disappear. the advocates of this kind of standard tone cannot disengage themselves from the belief that all vocal organs are alike. the exact opposite is the truth. vocal organs are no more alike than are eyes, noses, hands and dispositions. each of these conforms only to a general type. the variation is infinite. mentality the mentality of the individual forms the organ through which it can express itself, and this mentality is the accumulation of all of the experience which has preceded it. further, muscles and cartilages are not all of the same texture. thyroid cartilages vary in size and shape. the vocal cavities, pharynx, mouth and nasal cavities are never exactly the same in any two people. the contours of the upper and lower jaw and teeth, and of the palatal arch are never found to be exactly alike. all of these variations are a part of the vocal instrument and determine its quality. every vocal organ when properly directed will produce the best quality of which that particular instrument is capable. an attempt to make it produce something else must necessarily be a failure. the structure of the instrument determines whether the voice is bass, tenor, alto or soprano with all of the variations of these four classes. the individuality of the voice is fixed by nature no less definitely. the effort to standardize tone quality discloses a misapprehension of what it means to train a voice. its advocates look upon man as so much matter, and the voice as something which must be made to operate according to fixed mathematical rules and ignore completely its psychology. but the rich humor of it all appears when the propagandists of standard tone meet to establish the standard. it is soon observed that there are as many standards as there are members present and the only result is a mental fermentation. getting together in recent years many attempts have been made by vocal teachers to "get together." as nearly as can be ascertained this getting together means that all shall teach in the same way, that all shall agree on the disputed points in voice training, or that certain articles of faith to which all can subscribe, shall be formulated; but when it comes to deciding whose way it shall be or whose faith shall be thus exalted, each one is a gibraltar and the only perceptible result is an enlargement of the individual ego. and so it endeth. why teachers disagree voice teachers are divided into two general classes--those who make a knowledge of vocal physiology the basis of teaching and those who do not. the members of the first class follow the teachings of some one of the scientific investigators. each one will follow the scientist or physiologist whose ideas most nearly coincide with his own, or which seem most reasonable to him. in as much as the scientists have not yet approached anything resembling an agreement, it follows that their disciples are far from being of one mind. the members of the second class hold that a knowledge of vocal anatomy and physiology beyond the elements has no value in teaching, and that the less the student thinks about mechanism the better. the scientific voice teachers usually believe in direct control of the vocal organs. the members of the opposite class believe in indirect control. this establishes a permanent disagreement between the two general classes, but the disagreement between those who believe in indirect control is scarcely less marked. here it is not so much a matter of how the tone is produced, but rather the tone itself. this is due entirely to the difference in taste among teachers. the diversity of taste regarding tone quality is even greater than that regarding meat and drink. this fact seems to be very generally overlooked. it is this that so mystifies students. after studying with a teacher for one or more years they go to another to find that he at once tries to get a different tone quality from that of the first. when they go to the third teacher he tries for still another quality. if they go to a half dozen teachers each one will try to make them produce a tone differing in some degree from all of the others. the student doubtless thinks this is due to the difference in understanding of the voice among teachers, but this is not so. it is due entirely to their differing tastes in tone quality. the marvelous thing is that the voice will respond in a degree to all of these different demands made upon it; but it forces the student to the conclusion that voice training is an indefinite something without order, system, or principle. so, in studying the conditions which obtain in voice teaching at the present time it must be admitted that the evidence of unity is slight; and the probability of increasing it by organization or legislative enactment is not such as to make one enthusiastic. what one believes is very real to himself. in fact it is the only thing that seems right to him, therefore he sees no valid reason why he should change his belief or why others should not believe as he does. this positive element in the human ego is advantageous at times, but it is also responsible for all conflicts from mild disagreements to war among nations. but arguments and battles rarely ever result in anything more than an armed truce. difference of opinion will continue indefinitely, but of this we may be sure, that the solution of the vocal problem will never come through a study of vocal mechanism however conscientious and thorough it may be, but through a purer musical thought, a deeper musical feeling, a clearer vision of what is cause and what is effect, a firmer conviction of the sanctity of music, an unerring knowledge of the relationship existing between the singer and his instrument. iv hints on teaching "we live in a world of unseen realities, the world of thoughts and feelings. but 'thoughts are things,' and frequently they weigh more and obtain far more in the making of a man than do all the tangible realities which surround him. thoughts and feelings are the stuff of which life is made. they are the language of the soul. by means of them we follow the development of character, the shaping of the soul which is the one great purpose of life." _appreciation of art_. loveridge. every year a large number of young men and women go in quest of a singing teacher. the impulse to sing, which is inborn, has become so insistent and irrepressible that it must be heeded; and the desire to do things well, which is a part of the mental equipment of every normal human being, makes outside assistance imperative. wherever there is a real need the supply is forthcoming, so there is little difficulty in finding some one who is ready, willing, in fact rather anxious, to undertake the pleasant task of transforming these enthusiastic amateurs into full-fledged professionals. the meeting of the teacher and student always takes place in the studio, and it is there that all vocal problems are solved. let no one imagine that any vocal problem can be solved in a physics laboratory. why? _because not one of the problems confronting the vocal student is physical. they are all mental._ the writer has reached this conclusion not from ignoring the physical, but from making a comprehensive study of the vocal mechanism and its relation to the singer. the anatomy and physiology of the vocal mechanism are absorbing to one who is interested in knowing how man, through untold centuries of growth has perfected an instrument through which he can express himself; but no matter how far we go in the study of anatomy and physiology all we really learn is what mind has done. if man has a more perfect and highly organized vocal instrument than the lower animals it is because his higher manifestation of mind has formed an instrument necessary to its needs. when man's ideas and needs were few and simple his vocabulary was small, for language is the means by which members of the species communicate with each other. whenever man evolved a new idea he necessarily invented some way of communicating it, and so language grew. a word is the symbol of an idea, but invariably the idea originates the word. the word does not originate the idea. the idea always arrives first. all we can ever learn from the study of matter is phenomena, the result of the activity of mind. thus we see that so called "scientific study" of the vocal mechanism is at best, but a study of phenomena. it creates nothing. it only discovers what is already taking place, and what has been going on indefinitely without conscious direction will, in all probability, continue. the value attached by some to the study of vocal physiology is greatly overestimated. in fact its value is so little as to be practically negligible. it furnishes the teacher nothing he can use in giving a singing lesson, unless, perchance he should be so unwise as to begin the lesson with a talk on vocal mechanism, which, by the way, would much better come at the last lesson than the first. all we can learn from the study of vocal physiology is the construction of the vocal instrument, and this bears the same relation to singing that piano making bears to piano playing. the singer and his instrument are two different things, and a knowledge of the latter exerts very little beneficial influence on the former. to reach a solution of the vocal problem we must understand the relation existing between the singer and his instrument. the singer is a mentality, consequently everything he does is an activity of his mentality. seeing, hearing, knowing, is this mentality in action. the two senses most intimately associated with artistic activity are seeing and hearing, and these are mental. in painting, sculpture, and architecture we perceive beauty through the eye. in music it reaches us through the ear; but _the only thing that is cognizant is the mind_. to man the universe consists of mental impressions, and that these impressions differ with each individual is so well understood that it need not be argued. two people looking at the same picture will not see exactly the same things. two people listening to a musical composition may hear quite different things and are affected in different ways, because _it is the mind that hears_, and as no two mentalities are precisely the same, it must be apparent that the impressions they receive will be different. the things these mentalities have in common they will see and hear in common, but wherein they differ they will see and hear differently. each will see and hear to the limit of his experience, but no further. to be a musician one must become conscious of that particular thing called music. he must learn to think music. the elements of music are rhythm, melody, harmony, and form, and their mastery is no less a mental process than is the study of pure mathematics. the human mind is a composite. it is made up of a large number of faculties combined in different proportions. the germs of all knowledge exist in some form and degree in every mind. when one faculty predominates we say the individual has talent for that particular thing. if the faculty is abnormally developed we say he is a genius, but all things exist as possibilities in every mind. nature puts no limitations on man. whatever his limitations, they are self imposed, nature is not a party to the act. now this is what confronts the teacher whenever a student comes for a lesson. he has before him a mentality that has been influenced not only by its present environment, but by everything that has preceded it. "man is," as an old philosopher said, "a bundle of habits," and habits are mental trends. his point of view is the product of his experience, and it will be different from that of every one else. the work of the teacher is training this mentality. understanding this it will be seen how futile would be a fixed formula for all students, and how necessarily doomed to failure is any method of voice training which makes anatomy and physiology its basis. further, there is much to be done in the studio beside giving the voice lesson. whistler said that natural conditions are never right for a perfect picture. from the picture which nature presents the artist selects what suits his purpose and rejects the rest. it is much the same in the training of a singer. in order that the lesson be effective the conditions must be right. this only rarely obtains in the beginning. the student's attitude toward the subject must be right or the lesson will mean little to him. the lesson to be effective must be protected by _honesty_, _industry_ and _perseverance_. if these are lacking in various degrees, as they often are, little progress will be made. if the student is studying merely for "society purposes," not much can be expected until that mental attitude is changed. students always want to sing well, but they are not always willing to make the sacrifice of time and effort; consequently they lack concentration and slight their practice. sometimes the thought uppermost in the student's mind is the exaltation of the ego, in other words, fame. sometimes he measures his efforts by the amount of money he thinks he may ultimately earn, be it great or small. sometimes he overestimates himself, or what is equally bad, underestimates himself. it is a very common thing to find him putting limitations on himself and telling of the few things he will be able to do and the large number he never will be able to do, thus effectually barring his progress. then there is always the one who is habitually late. she feels sure that all of the forces of nature are leagued in a conspiracy to prevent her from ever being on time anywhere. she, therefore, is guiltless. there is another one who is a riot of excuses, apologies and reasons why she has not been able to practice. her home and neighborhood seem to be the special object of providential displeasure, which is manifested in an unbroken series of calamitous visitations ranging from croup to bubonic plague, each one making vocal practice a physical and moral impossibility. all of these things are habits of mind which must be corrected by the teacher before satisfactory growth may be expected. in fact he must devote no inconsiderable part of his time to setting students right on things which in themselves are no part of music, but which are elements of character without which permanent success is impossible. a great musical gift is of no value unless it is protected by those elements of character which are in themselves fundamentally right. innumerable instances could be cited of gifted men and women who have failed utterly because their gifts were not protected by honesty, industry and perseverance. i have spoken at some length of the importance of the right mental attitude toward study and the necessity of correcting false conceptions. continuing, it must be understood that the work of the teacher is all that of training the mind of his student. it is developing concepts and habits of mind which when exercised result in beautiful tone and artistic singing. it must also be understood that the teacher does not look at the voice, he listens to it. here voice teachers automatically separate themselves from each other. no two things so diametrically opposite as physics and metaphysics can abide peaceably in the same tent. let me emphasize the statement that _the teacher does not look at the voice, he listens to it_. the teacher who bases his teaching on what he can see, that is, on watching the singer and detecting his mistakes through the eye, is engaged in an activity that is mechanical, not musical. no one can tell from observation alone whether a tone is properly produced. a tone is something to hear, not something to see, and no amount of seeing will exert any beneficial influence on one's hearing. the process of learning to read vocal music at sight is that of learning to _think tones_, to _think in the key_, and to _think all manner of intervals and rhythmic forms_. it is altogether mental, and it is no less absurd to hold that a knowledge of anatomy is necessary to this than it is essential to the solution of a mathematical problem. the formation of tone quality is no less a mental process than is thinking the pitch. if the student sings a wrong pitch it is because he has thought a wrong pitch, and this is true to a large extent at least, if his tone quality in not good. he may at least be sure of this, that _he never will sing a better tone than the one he thinks_. a large part of the vocal teacher's training should be learning how to listen and what to listen for. this means training the ear, which is the mind, until it is in the highest degree sensitive to tone quality as well as to pitch. when there is a failure in voice training it may be counted upon that the teacher's listening faculty is defective. the gist of the whole thing is what the teacher's ear will stand for. if a tone does not offend his ear he will allow it to continue. if it does offend his ear he will take measures to stop it. more is known of vocal mechanism today than at any other time in the world's history, and yet who dares to say that voice teaching has been improved by it? is voice teaching any more accurate now than it was a hundred years ago? did the invention of the laryngoscope add anything of value to the voice teacher's equipment? no. even the inventor of it said that all it did was to confirm what he had always believed. an enlarged mechanical knowledge has availed nothing in the studio. the character of the teacher's work has improved to the degree in which he has recognized two facts--first, the necessity of developing his own artistic sense as well as that of his pupil, second, that the process of learning to sing is psychologic rather than physiologic. when the student takes his first singing lesson what does the teacher hear? he hears the tone the student sings, but what is far more important, he hears in his own mind the tone the student ought to sing. he hears his own tone concept and this is the standard he sets for the student. he cannot demand of him anything beyond his own concept either in tone quality or interpretation. young teachers and some old ones watch the voice rather than listen to it. at the slightest deviation from their standard of what the tongue, larynx, and soft palate ought to do they pounce upon the student and insist that he make the offending organ assume the position and form which they think is necessary to produce a good tone. this results in trying to control the mechanism by direct effort which always induces tension and produces a hard, unsympathetic tone. the blunder here is in mistaking effect for cause. the tongue which habitually rises and fills the cavity of the mouth does so in response to a wrong mental concept of cause. the only way to correct this condition is to change the cause. the rigid tongue we see is effect, and to tinker with the effect while the cause remains is unnecessarily stupid. an impulse of tension has been directed to the tongue so often that the impulse and response have become simultaneous and automatic. the correction lies in directing an impulse of relaxation to it. when it responds to this impulse it will be found to be lying in the bottom of the mouth, relaxed, and ready to respond to any demand that may be made upon it. to try to make the tongue lie in the bottom of the mouth by direct effort while it is filled with tension is like trying to sweep back the tide with a broom. the only way to keep the tide from flowing is to find out what causes it to flow and remove the cause. the only way to correct faulty action of any part of the vocal mechanism is to go back into mentality and remove the cause. it will always be found there. direct and indirect control in view of the generally understood nature of involuntary action and the extent to which it obtains in all good singing it is difficult to understand why any teacher should work from the basis of direct control. it is a fact, however, that teachers who have not the psychological vision find it difficult to work with a thing they cannot see. to such, direct control seems to be the normal and scientific method of procedure. let me illustrate: a student comes for his first lesson. i "try his voice." his tone is harsh, white, throaty and unsympathetic. it is not the singing tone and i tell him it is "all wrong." he does not contradict me but places himself on the defensive and awaits developments. i question him to find out what he thinks of his own voice, how it impresses him, etc. i find it makes no impression on him because he has no standard. he says he doesn't know whether he ought to like his voice or not, but rather supposes he should not. as i watch him i discover many things that are wrong and i make a mental note of them. suppose i say to him as a very celebrated european teacher once said to me: "take a breath, and concentrate your mind on the nine little muscles in the throat that control the tone." this is asking a good deal when he does not know the name or the exact location of a single one of them, but he seems impressed, although a little perplexed, and to make it easier for him i say as another famous teacher once said to me: "open your mouth, put two fingers and a thumb between your teeth, yawn, now sing _ah_." he makes a convulsive effort and the tone is a trifle worse than it was before. i say to him, "your larynx is too high, and it jumps up at the beginning of each tone. you must keep it down. it is impossible to produce good tone with a high larynx. when the larynx rises, the throat closes and you must always have your throat open. don't forget, your throat must be _open_ and you can get it open only by keeping the larynx low." he tries again with the same result and awaits further instructions. i take another tack and say to him, "your tongue rises every time you sing and impairs the form of the vocal cavity. keep it down below the level of the teeth, otherwise your vowels will be imperfect. you should practice a half hour each day grooving your tongue." i say these things impressively and take the opportunity to tell him some interesting scientific facts about fundamental and upper partials, and how different combinations produce different vowels, also how these combinations are affected by different forms of the vocal cavities, leading up to the great scientific truth that he must hold the tongue down and the throat open in order that these great laws of acoustics may become operative. he seems very humble in the presence of such profound erudition and makes several unsuccessful attempts to do what i tell him, but his tone is no better. i tell him so, for i do not wish to mislead him. he is beginning to look helpless and discouraged but waits to see what i will do next. he vexes me not a little, because i feel that anything so simple and yet so scientific as the exercises i am giving him ought to be grasped and put into practice at once; but i still have resources, and i say to him, "bring the tone forward, direct it against the hard palate just above the upper teeth, send it up through the head with a vigorous impulse of the diaphragm. you must always feels the tone in the nasal cavities. that is the way you can tell whether your tone is right or not." he tries to do these things, but of necessity fails. this sort of thing goes on with mechanical instructions for raising the soft palate, making the diaphragm rigid, grooving the tongue, etc., etc., and at the end of the lesson i tell him to go home and practice an hour a day on what i have given him. if he obeys my instructions he will return in worse condition, for he will be strengthening the bad habits he already has and forming others equally pernicious. this is a sample of teaching by direct control. it is not overdrawn. it is a chapter from real life, and i was the victim. you will have observed that this lesson was devoted to teaching the student how to do certain things with the vocal mechanism. the real thing, the tone, the result at which all teaching should aim was placed in the background. it was equivalent to trying to teach him to do something but not letting him know what. it was training the body, not the mind, and the result was what invariably happens when this plan is followed. in the lesson given above no attempt was made to give the student a correct mental picture of a tone, and yet this is the most important thing for him to learn, for _he never will sing a pure tone until he has a definite mental picture of it_. _a tone is something to hear and the singer himself must hear it before he can sing it._ not one of the suggestions made to this student could be of any possible benefit to him at the time. not even the sensation of feeling the tone in the head can be relied upon, for physical sensations are altogether uncertain and unreliable. as i have observed in numberless instances, there may be a sensation in the head when there are disagreeable elements in the tone. if the ear of the teacher does not tell him when the tone is good and when it is bad he is hopeless. if his ear is reliable, why resort to a physical sensation as a means of deciding? in the properly produced voice there is a feeling of vibration in the head cavities, especially in the upper part of the voice, but that alone is not a guaranty of good tone. this teaching from the standpoint of sensation and direct control will never produce a great singer so long as man inhabits a body. it is working from the wrong end of the proposition. control of the mechanism is a very simple matter when the mental concept is formed. it is then only a question of learning how to relax, how to free the mechanism of tension, and the response becomes automatic. is there no way out of this maze of mechanical uncertainties? there is. is voice culture a sort of catch-as-catch-can with the probabilities a hundred to one against success? it is not. is singing a lost art? it is not. let us get away from fad, fancy and formula and see the thing as it is. the problem is psychologic rather than physiologic. the fact that one may learn all that can be known about physiology and still know nothing whatever about voice training should awaken us to its uselessness. man is a mental entity. when i speak to a student _it is his mind that hears, not his body_. it is his mind that acts. it is his mind that originates and controls action. therefore it is his mind that must be trained. action is not in the body. in fact, the body as matter has no sensation. remove mind from the body and it does not feel. it is the mind that feels. if you believe that the body feels you must be prepared to explain where in the process of digestion and assimilation the beefsteak and potato you ate for dinner become conscious, because to feel they must be conscious. we know that the fluids and solids composing the body have no sensation when they are taken into the body, nor do they ever become sentient. therefore the body of itself has no initiative, no action, no control. all of these are the functions of mind, hence the incongruity of attempting to solve a problem which is altogether psychological, which demands qualities of mind, habits of mind, mental concepts of a particular kind and quality, by a process of manipulation of the organ through which mind expresses itself, making the training of the mind a secondary matter; and then absurdly calling it scientific. in every form of activity two things are involved: first, the idea: second, its expression. it must be apparent then, that the quality of the thing expressed will be governed by the quality of the idea. or, to put it in another way: in the activity of art two things are involved--subject-matter and technic. the subject-matter, the substance of art, is mental. technic is gaining such control of the medium that the subject-matter, or idea, may be fully and perfectly expressed. ideas are the only substantial things in the universe, and that there is a difference in the quality of ideas need not be argued. two men of the same avoirdupois may be walking side by side on the street, but one of them may be a genius and the other a hod carrier. i have dwelt at some length on this because i wish to show where the training of a singer must begin, and that when we understand the real nature of the problem its solution becomes simple. indirect control what is meant by indirect control? it means, in short, the automatic response of the mechanism to the idea. by way of illustration. if i should ask my pupil to make her vocal cords vibrate at the rate of times per second she could not do it because she would have no mental concept of how it should sound: but if i strike the a above middle c and ask her to sing it her vocal cords respond automatically at that rate of vibration. it is the concept of pitch which forms the vocal instrument, gives it the exact amount of tension necessary to vibrate at the rate of the pitch desired, but the action is automatic, not the result of direct effort. it may be said that in artistic singing everything is working automatically. there can be no such thing as artistic singing until everything involved is responding automatically to the mental demands of the singer. mention has been made of the automatic response of the vocal cords to the thought of pitch. that part of the mechanism which is so largely responsible for tone quality, the pharynx and mouth, must respond in the same way. this it will do unerringly if it is free from tension. but if the throat is full of rigidity, as is so often the condition, it cannot respond; consequently the quality is imperfect and the tone is throaty. the vocal cavity must vibrate in sympathy with the pitch in order to create pure resonance. it can do this only when it is free and is responding automatically to the concept of tone quality. to form the mouth and throat by direct effort and expect a good tone to result thereby, is an action not only certain of failure but exceedingly stupid. voice training is simple there is a belief amounting to a solid conviction in the public mind that the training of the voice is so difficult that the probabilities of success are about one in ten. what is responsible for this? doubtless the large number of failures. but this calls for another interrogation. what is the cause of these failures? here is one. all students have done more or less singing before they go to a teacher. during that time they have, with scarcely an exception, formed bad habits. now bad habits of voice production are almost invariably some form of throat interference, referred to as tension, rigidity, resistance, etc. instances without number could be cited where students have been told to keep right on singing and eventually they would outgrow these habits. such a thing never happened since time began. one may as well tell a drunkard to keep on drinking and eventually he will outgrow the habit. no. something definite and specific must be done. the antidote for tension is relaxation. a muscle cannot respond while it is rigid, therefore the student must be taught how to get rid of tension. two things involved there is nothing in voice training that is necessarily mysterious and inscrutable. on the contrary, if one will acquaint himself with its fundamental principles he will find that the truth about voice training, like all truth, is simple and easily understood, and when understood the element of uncertainty is eliminated. these principles are few in number, in fact they may all be brought under two general heads. the first is =know what you want=. the second is =have the conditions right=. the meaning of these statements can never be learned from a study of vocal physiology; nevertheless they contain all of the law and the prophets on this subject. any musician may be a successful teacher of singing if he will master them. i use the word _musician_ advisedly, because musical sense is of such vital importance that no amount of mechanical knowledge can take its place. to undertake the training of voices with only a mechanical knowledge of the subject is a handicap which no one can overcome. it is universally true that the less one knows of the art of singing the more he concerns himself with the mechanism; and it is also true that the more one is filled with the spirit of song the less he concerns himself with the construction of the vocal instrument. people with little or no musicianship have been known to wrangle ceaselessly on whether or not the thyroid cartilage should tip forward on high tones. it is such crude mechanics masquerading under the name of science that has brought voice training into general disrepute. the voice teacher is primarily concerned with learning to play upon the vocal instrument rather than upon its mechanical construction, two things which some find difficulty in separating. know what you want this means much. in voice production it means the perfect tone concept. it means far more than knowing what one likes. what one likes and what he ought to like are usually quite different things. what one likes is the measure of his taste at that particular time and may or may not be an argument in its favor. i have never seen a beginner whose taste was perfectly formed, but the great majority of them know what they like, and because they like a certain kind of tone, or a certain way of singing, they take it for granted that it is right until they are shown something better. this error is by no means confined to beginners. if your pupil does not produce good tone one of two things is responsible for it. either he does not know a good tone or else the conditions are not right. in the beginning it is usually both. your pupil must create his tone mentally before he sings it. he must create its quality no less than its pitch. in other words _he must hear his tone before he sings it and then sing what he hears_. until he can do this his voice will have no character. his voice will be as indefinite as his tone concept, and it will not improve until his concept, which is his taste, improves. inasmuch as everything exists first as idea, it follows that everything which is included in the rightly produced voice and in interpretation are first matters of concept. the singer uses a certain tone quality because he mentally conceives that quality to be right. he delivers a word or phrase in a certain way because that is his concept of it. a word at this point on imitation. one faculty of a musical mind is that of recording mentally what it hears and of producing it mentally whenever desired. most people possess this in some degree, and some people in a marked degree. almost any one can hear mentally the tone of a cornet, violin, or any instrument with which he is acquainted. in the same way the vocal student must hear mentally the pure singing tone before he can sing it. it is the business of the teacher to assist him in forming a perfect tone concept, and if he can do this by example, as well as by precept, he has a distinct advantage over the one who cannot. arguments against imitation are not uncommon, and yet the teachers who offer them will advise their students to hear the great singers as often as possible. such incongruities do not inspire confidence. on this human plane most things are learned by imitation. what language would the child speak if it were never allowed to hear spoken language? it would never be anything but "an infant crying in the night. and with no language but a cry." there are but few original thinkers on earth at any one time. the rest are imitators and none too perfect at that. we are imitators in everything from religion to breakfast foods. few of us ever have an original idea. we trail along from fifty to a hundred years behind those we are trying to imitate. when there is little else but imitation going on in the world why deny it to vocal students? the argument against imitation can come from but two classes of people--those who cannot produce a good tone and those who are more interested in how the tone is made than in the tone itself. the following are the qualities the teacher undertakes to develop in the student in preparing him for artistic singing. they are fundamental and must be a part of the singer's equipment no matter what method is employed. they are what all musicians expect to hear in the trained singer. they all exist first as concepts. an even scale from top to bottom of the voice. every tone full of strength and character. a sympathetic quality. ample power. a clear, telling resonance in every tone. a pure legato and sostenuto. perfect freedom in production throughout the compass. a perfect swell, that is, the ability to go from pianissimo to full voice and return, on any tone in the compass, without a break, and without sacrificing the tone quality. the ability to pronounce distinctly and with ease to the top of the compass. equal freedom in the delivery of vowels and consonants. sufficient flexibility to meet all technical demands. an ear sensitive to the finest shades of intonation. an artistic concept or interpretive sense of the highest possible order. the process of acquiring these things is not accretion but _unfoldment_. it is the unfoldment of ideas or concepts. the growth of ideas is similar to that of plants and flowers. the growth of expression follows the growth of the idea, it never precedes it. from the formation of the first vowel to the perfect interpretation of a song the teacher is dealing with mental concepts. at the gobelin tapestry works near paris i was told that the weavers of those wonderful tapestries use twenty-four shades of each color, and that their color sense becomes so acute that they readily recognize all of the different shades. now there are about as many shades of each vowel, and the mental picture of the vowel must be so definite, the mental ear so sensitive, that it will detect the slightest variation from the perfect form. direct control could never accomplish this. only the automatic response of the mechanism to the perfect vowel concept can result in a perfect vowel. all of those qualities and elements mentioned above as constituting the artist come under the heading =know what you want=. the second step =have the conditions right= means, in short, to free the mechanism of all interference and properly manage the breath. this getting rid of interference could be talked about indefinitely without wasting time. it is far more important than most people suspect. few voices are entirely free from it, and when it is present in a marked degree it is an effectual bar to progress. so long as it is present in the slightest degree it affects the tone quality. most students think they are through with it long before they are. this interference, which is referred to as tension, rigidity, throatiness, etc., is in the nature of resistance to the free emission of tone. it is not always confined to the vocal cords, but usually extends to the walls of the pharynx and the body of the tongue. the vocal cavities, the pharynx and mouth, exert such a marked influence on tone quality that the least degree of rigidity produces an effect that is instantly noticeable to the trained ear. these parts of the vocal mechanism which are so largely responsible not only for perfect vowels, but for perfect tone quality as well, must at all times be so free from tension that they can respond instantly to the tone concept. if they fail to respond the tone will be imperfect, and these imperfections are all classed under the general head "throaty." throaty tone means that there is resistance somewhere, and the conditions will never be right until the last vestige of it is destroyed. the difficulty in voice placing which so many have, lies in trying to produce the upper tones without first getting rid of resistance. this condition is responsible for a number of shop-worn statements, such as "bring the tone forward," "place the tone in the head," "direct the tone into the head," etc. i recall a writer who says that the column of breath must be directed against the hard palate toward the front of the mouth in order to get a resonant tone. consider this a moment. when the breath is properly vocalized its power is completely destroyed. any one may test this by vocalizing in an atmosphere cold enough to condense the moisture in his breath. if he is vocalizing perfectly, he will observe that the breath moves lazily out of the mouth and curls upward not more than an inch from the face. the idea that this breath, which has not a particle of force after leaving the vocal cords, can be directed against the hard palate with an impact sufficient to affect tone quality is the limit of absurdity. if the writer had spoken of directing the sound waves to the front of the mouth there would have been an element of reasonableness in it, for sound waves can be reflected as well as light waves; but breath and sound are quite different things. what does the teacher mean when he tells the pupil to place the tone in the head? he doubtless means that the student shall call into use the upper resonator. if one holds a vibrating tuning-fork before a resonating tube, does he direct the vibrations into that resonating cavity? no. neither is it necessary to try to drive the voice into the cavities of the head. such instructions are of doubtful value. they are almost sure to result in a hard unsympathetic tone. they increase rather than diminish the resistance. the only possible way to place the tone in the head is to let it go there. this will always occur when the resistance is destroyed and the channel is free. in numerous instances the resistance in the vocal cords is so great that it is impossible to sing softly, or with half voice. it requires so much breath pressure to start the vibration, that is, to overcome the resistance, that when it does start it is with full voice. in a majority of male voices the upper tone must be taken either with full chest voice or with falsetto. there is no _mezza voce_. this condition is abnormal and is responsible for the "red in the face" brand of voice production so often heard. of this we may be sure, that no one can sing a good full tone unless he can sing a good _mezza voce_. when the mechanism is sufficiently free from resistance that a good pianissimo can be sung then the conditions are right to begin to build toward a _forte_. further, when the mechanism is entirely free from resistance there is no conscious effort required to produce tone. the singer has the feeling of letting himself sing rather than of making himself sing. the engineer of a great pumping station once told me that his mammoth corliss engine was so perfectly balanced that he could run it with ten pounds of steam. when the voice is free, and resting on the breath as it were, it seems to sing itself. an illustration of the opposite condition, of extreme resistance was once told me by the president of a great street railway system that was operated by a cable. he said it required eighty-five per cent of the power generated to start the machinery, that is, to overcome the resistance, leaving but fifteen per cent for operating cars. it is not at all uncommon to hear singers who are so filled with resistance that it requires all of their available energy to make the vocal instrument produce tone. such singers soon find themselves exhausted and the voice tired and husky. it is this type of voice production rather than climatic conditions, that causes so much chronic laryngitis among singers. i have seen the truth of this statement verified in the complete and permanent disappearance of many cases of laryngitis through learning to produce the voice correctly. the second step in securing right conditions is the proper management of the breath. breath control an extremist always lacks the sense of proportion. he allows a single idea to fill his mental horizon. he is fanciful, and when an idea comes to him he turns his high power imagination upon it, and it immediately becomes overwhelming in magnitude and importance. thereafter all things in his universe revolve around it. the field of voice teaching is well stocked with extremists. everything involved in voice production and many things that are not, have been taken up one at a time and made the basis of a method. one builds his reputation on a peculiar way of getting the tone into the frontal sinuses by way of the infundibulum canal, and makes all other things secondary. another has discovered a startling effect which a certain action of the arytenoid cartilages has on registers, and sees a perfect voice as the result. another has discovered that a particular movement of the thyroid cartilage is the only proper way to tense the vocal cords and when every one learns to do this all bad voices will disappear. another has discovered something in breath control so revolutionary in its nature that it alone will solve all vocal problems. perhaps if all of these discoveries could be combined they might produce something of value; but who will undertake it? not the extremists themselves, for they are barren of the synthetic idea, and their sense of proportion is rudimentary. they would be scientists were it not for their abnormal imaginations. the scientist takes the voice apart and examines it in detail, but the voice teacher must put all parts of it together and mold it into a perfect whole. the process is synthetic rather than analytic, and undue emphasis on any one element destroys the necessary balance. the immediate danger of laying undue emphasis on any one idea in voice training lies in its tendency toward the mechanical and away from the spontaneous, automatic response so vitally necessary. here the extremists commit a fatal error. to make breath management the all-in-all of singing invariably leads to direct control, and soon the student has become so conscious of the mechanism of breathing that his mind is never off of it while singing; he finds himself becoming rigid trying to prevent his breath from escaping, and the more rigid he becomes the less control he has. a large number of examples of this kind of breath management have come under my observation. they all show the evil results of over working an idea. but the followers of "the-breath-is-the-whole-thing" idea say "you can't sing without breath control." solomon never said a truer thing, but the plan just mentioned is the worst possible way to secure it. every one should know that not a single one of the processes of voice production is right until it is working automatically, and automatic action is the result of indirect, never of direct control. the profession has become pretty thoroughly imbued with the idea that deep breathing, known as abdominal, or diaphragmatic is the best for purposes of singing. but how deep? the answer is, the deeper the better. here again it is easy to overstep the bounds. i have in mind numerous instances where the singer, under the impression that he was practicing deep breathing tried to control the breath with the lower abdominal muscles, but no matter how great the effort made there was little tonal response, for the reason that the pressure exerted was not against the lungs but against the contents of the abdomen. the diaphragm is the point of control. the lungs lie above it, not below it. to concentrate the thought on the lower abdominal muscles means to lose control of the diaphragm, the most important thing involved in breath management. the process of breathing is simple. the lungs are enclosed in an air tight box of which the diaphragm is the bottom. it rests under the lungs like an inverted saucer. in the act of contracting it flattens toward a plane and in so doing it moves downward and forward, away from the lungs. the ribs move outward, forward and upward. the lungs which occupy this box like a half compressed sponge follow the receding walls, and a vacuum is created which air rushes in to fill. in exhalation the action is reversed. the ribs press against the lungs and the diaphragm slowly returns to its original position and the breath is forced out like squeezing water out of a sponge. the one important thing in breath management is the diaphragm. if the student has the right action of the diaphragm he will have no further trouble with breath control. in my systematic voice training will be found a list of exercises which thoroughly cover the subject of breath control and if properly used will correct all errors. let this be understood, that there is nothing in correct breathing that should make one tired. on the contrary the practice of breathing should leave one refreshed. above all, the student should never make himself rigid when trying to control the flow of breath. this is not only of no advantage, but will effectually defeat the end for which he is striving. registers in securing right conditions the teacher is often confronted with the problem of registers. the literature on this subject is voluminous and varied. opinions are offered without stint and the number of registers which have been discovered in the human voice ranges from none to an indefinite number. how one scientist can see two, and another one five registers in the same voice might be difficult to explain were it not a well known fact that some people are better at "seeing things" than others. but here again the teacher soon learns that laboratory work is of little value. his view point is so different from that of the physicist that they can hardly be said to be working at the same problem. the physicist tries to discover the action of the mechanism, in other words, how the tone is made. the voice teacher is concerned primarily with how it sounds. one is looking at the voice, the other is listening to it, which things, be it known, are essentially and fundamentally different; so different that their relationship is scarcely traceable. the ability to train the voice comes through working with voices where the musical sense, rather than the scientific sense, is the guide. it is a specific knowledge which can be gained in no other way. it begins when one takes an untrained voice and attempts to make it produce a musical tone. the problem of registers is, in short, how to make an even scale out of an uneven one. it must be solved in the studio. anatomical knowledge is of no avail. the teacher who has learned how to produce an even scale possesses knowledge which is of more value to the student than all of the books ever written on vocal mechanism. the depressions in the voice known as "changes of register" result from tension. with one adjustment of the vocal cords the singer can, by adding tension, make a series of four or five tones, then by a change of adjustment he can produce another similar series, and so on to the top of his compass. these changes occur when there is such an accumulation of tension that no more can be added to that adjustment without discomfort. the solution of this problem lies in gaining such freedom from tension in the vocal instrument that it automatically readjusts itself for each tone. the tension is then evenly distributed throughout the scale and the sudden changes disappear. this is precisely what happens when the singer has learned to produce an even scale throughout his compass; his voice production is not right until he can do this. the statement is frequently made in public print that there are no registers in the trained voice. this order of wisdom is equally scintillating with that profound intellectual effort which avers that a bald headed man has no hair on the top of his head, or that hot weather is due to a rise in the temperature. these statements may be heavy-laden with truth, but to the voice teacher they are irrelevant. his work is at least seven-eighths with untrained voices. by the time he has worked out an even scale with all of the other problems that go hand in hand with it, for a great deal of the art of singing will naturally accompany it, a large majority of his pupils are ready to move on. only a small per cent prepare for a musical career. most of his work is with voices that still need to be perfected. it is for voices of this kind that the teacher lives. it is for such voices that vocal methods are evolved and books written. a lighthearted, easy going assurance is not sufficient alone to compass the problems that present themselves in the studio. if the teacher is conscientious there will be times when he will feel deeply the need of something more than human wisdom. the work in the studio has more to do with the future than with the immediate present. the singing lesson is a small part of what the student carries with him. the atmosphere of the studio, which is the real personality of the teacher, his ideals, aims, the depth of his sincerity, in short, his concept of the meaning of life, goes with the student and will be remembered when the lesson is forgotten. v the nature and meaning of art one function, then, of art is to feed and mature the imagination and the spirit, and thereby enhance and invigorate the whole of human life. _ancient art and ritual_. jane ellen harrison. a large percentage of the population of the civilized world has more or less to do with what is called art. in its various forms art touches in some degree practically the entire human race. its various activities have developed great industries, and for the entertainment it affords fabulous sums of money are spent. what is this thing called art which takes such a hold upon the human race? if it has no social or economic value then a vast amount of time and money are wasted each year in its study and practice. a brief inquiry into the nature and meaning of art may well be associated with a discussion of the art of singing. art as a whole comes under the head of aesthetics, which may be defined as the philosophy of taste, the science of the beautiful. it will doubtless be admitted without argument that ever since the dawn of consciousness the visible world has produced sense impressions differing from each other--some pleasant, some unpleasant. from these different sense impressions there gradually evolved what is known as beauty and ugliness. an attempt to discover the principles underlying beauty and ugliness resulted in aesthetics, the founder of which was baumgarten ( - ). it will be interesting to hear what he and the later aestheticians have to say about art. most of them connect it in some way with that which is beautiful, that is, pleasing, but they do not all agree in their definition of beauty. baumgarten defined beauty as the perfect, the absolute, recognized through the senses. he held that the highest embodiment of beauty is seen by us in nature, therefore the highest aim of art is to copy nature. winkelmann ( - ) held the law and aim of art to be beauty independent of goodness. hutcheson ( - ) was of essentially the same opinion. according to kant ( - ) beauty is that which pleases without the reasoning process. schiller ( - ) held that the aim of art is beauty, the source of which is pleasure without practical advantage. these definitions do not wholly satisfy. they do not accord to art the dignified position it should hold in social development. but there are others who have a clearer vision. fichte ( - ) said that beauty exists not in the visible world but in the beautiful soul, and that art is the manifestation of this beautiful soul, and that its aim is the education of the whole man. in this we begin to see the real nature and activity of art. there are other aestheticians who define art in much the same way. shaftesbury ( - ) said that beauty is recognized by the mind only. god is fundamental beauty. hegel ( - ) said: "art is god manifesting himself in the form of beauty. beauty is the idea shining through matter. art is a means of bringing to consciousness and expressing the deepest problems of humanity and the highest truths." according to hegel beauty and truth are one and the same thing. thus we see that the great thinkers of the world make art of supreme importance in the perfecting of the human race. they all agree that art is not in material objects, but is a condition and activity of spirit. they agree in the main that beauty and truth emanate from the same source. said keats: "beauty is truth and truth beauty, that is all ye know on earth and all ye need know." said schelling: "beauty is the perception of the infinite in the finite." but perhaps the highest concept of art is from the great artist whistler. he said: "art is an expression of eternal absolute truth, and starting from the infinite it cannot progress, it is." art in some form and in some degree finds a response in every one. why? because every one consciously or unconsciously is looking toward and striving for perfection. this is the law of being. every one is seeking to improve his condition, and this means that in some degree every one is an idealist. ever since time began idealism has been at work, and to it we owe every improved condition--social, political and religious. hegel believed that the aim of art is to portray nature in perfect form, not with the imperfections seen around us; and herbert spencer defined art as the attempt to realize the ideal in the present. the artist tries to make his picture more perfect than what he sees around him. the poet, the sculptor, the musician, the craftsman, the mechanic, are all striving for a more perfect expression, because perfection is the fundamental, eternal law of being. wagner said: "the world will be redeemed through art," and if whistler's definition be accepted he is not far from the truth. the important thing to remember is that art is not a mere pastime, but a great world force operating to lift mortals out of mortality. it is the striving of the finite to reach the infinite. in human history art, no less than languages, has conformed to the theory of evolution. language in the beginning was monosyllabic. far back in the early dawn of the race, before the development of the community spirit, when feelings, emotions, ideas, were simple and few the medium of expression was simple, and it grew with the demand for a larger expression. this same process of evolution is seen in the growth of each individual. the child, seeing grimalkin stalk stealthily into the room, points the finger and says "cat." this is the complete expression of itself on that subject. it is the sum total of its knowledge of zoology at that particular moment; and a long process of development must follow before it will refer to the same animal as a "felis domestica." in a similar way musical expression keeps step with musical ideas. in the beginning musical ideas were short, simple, fragmentary, monosyllabic, mere germs of melody (adherents of the germ theory will make a note of this). the arab with his rudimentary fiddle will repeat this fragment of melody [illustration: figure h] by the hour, while a company of his unlaundered brethren dance, until exhausted, in dust to their ankles, with the temperature near the boiling point. this musical monosyllable is ample to satisfy his artistic craving. in other words it is the complete musical expression of himself. the following is a complete program of dance music for the aborigines of australia. [illustration: figure i] the repetition of this figure may continue for hours. if it were inflicted on a metropolitan audience it would result in justifiable homicide, but to the australian it furnishes just the emotional stimulus he desires. [illustration: figure j] this one from tongtoboo, played allegro, would set the heels of any company, ancient or modern, in motion. these people may be said to be in the rhythmic stage of music, that is, a stage of development in which a rhythmic movement which serves to incite the dance furnishes complete artistic satisfaction. as it is a long distance from the monosyllabic expression of the child to the point where he can think consecutively in polysyllabic dissertation, so it is an equally long distance from the inarticulate musical utterances of the barbarous tribes to the endless melodies of wagner, which begin at p. m. and continue until . a. m. without repetition. following the course of music from the beginning we shall see that it has kept pace with civilization. as the race has grown mentally it has expressed itself in a larger and more perfect way in its literature, its painting and music. physically the race has not grown perceptibly in the last five thousand years, but mentally its growth can scarcely be measured. if we follow each nation through the past thousand years we shall see that its art product has not only kept pace with its development, but that in its art we may see all of its racial characteristics, those habits of mind which are peculiarly its own. a nation left to itself will develop a certain trend of thought which will differentiate it from all other nations. a trend of thought which will affect its art, literature, politics, religion, and in course of time will produce marked physical characteristics. this is noticeable in all nations which have lived long unto themselves. but modern methods of communication are destroying this. as nations are brought into closer contact with each other they begin to lose their peculiarities. the truth of this statement may be seen in the fact that in the past fifty years composers all over the world have been affected by the modern german school of composition. not one has escaped. while a nation lived unto itself it could preserve its national life in its art, but more and more the life of each nation is becoming a composite of the life of all nations. the musical output of the world shows this unmistakably. what will be the music of the future? we know the music of yesterday and today, but the music of the future can be foretold only by the prophet whose vision is clear enough to see unmistakably what the trend of civilization will be during the coming years. there are mighty forces operating in the world today. if they succeed in bringing humanity to a saner, more normal state of mind, to a clearer realization of what is worth while and what is worthless, then all art will become purer and more wholesome, more helpful and necessary, and music speaking a language common to all will be supreme among the arts. vi singing as an art no artist can be graceful, imaginative, or original, unless he be truthful. ruskin. _modern painters_. "art is a transfer of feeling" said tolstoy. while this applies to art in general it has a particular application to the art of singing. the material of the singer's art is feeling. by means of the imagination he evokes within himself feelings he has experienced and through the medium of his voice he transfers these feelings to others. by his ability to reconstruct moods, feelings and emotions within himself and express them through his voice, the singer sways multitudes, plays upon them, carries them whithersoever he will from the depths of sorrow to the heights of exaltation. his direct and constant aim is to make his hearers _feel_, and feel deeply. as a medium for the transfer of feeling the human voice far transcends all others. since the beginning of the human race the voice has been the means by which it has most completely revealed itself, but the art is not in the voice, but in the feeling transferred. it is the same whether the medium be the voice, painting, sculpture, poetry or a musical instrument. we speak of a painting as being a great work of art, but the art is not in the painting, the art is the feeling of beauty which the painting awakes in the observer. when we listen to an orchestra the music is what we feel. said walt whitman: "music is what awakes within us when we are reminded by the instruments." nothing exists separate from cognition. real art therefore consists of pure feeling rather than of material objects. _if the singer succeeds in transferring his feelings to others he is an artist_, this regardless of whether his voice is great or small. voice alone does not constitute an artist. one must have something to give. schumann said: "the reason the nightingale sings love songs and the lap dog barks is because the soul of the nightingale is filled with love and that of the lap dog with bark." it will be apparent therefore, that the study of the art of singing should devote itself to developing in the singer the best elements of his nature--all that is good, pure and elevating. we have no right to transfer to others any feeling that is impure or unwholesome. the technic of an art is of small moment compared with its subject matter. _an unworthy poem cannot be purified by setting it to music no matter how beautiful the music may be._ the principles of interpretation i fancy there is nothing more intangible to most people than the term "_phrasing_." i have asked a great many students to give me the principles of phrasing, but as yet i have seen none who could do it, and yet all singers, from the youngest to the oldest must make some use of these principles every time they sing. now a thing in such general use should be, and is, subject to analysis. _all of the rules of phrasing, like the rules of composition, grow out of what sounds well._ beauty and ugliness are matters of mental correspondence. in music a thing to be beautiful must satisfy a mental demand, and this demand is one's _taste_. the sense of fitness must obtain. when the singer interprets a song the demand of the listener is that he shall do well what he undertakes to do: that he shall portray whatever phase of life the song contains, accurately, definitely, that he shall have a _definite intent and purpose_, that he shall be in the mood of the song. the singer must not portray one mood with his face, another with his voice, while the poem suggests still a third. he must avoid incongruity. all things must work together. there must be therefore, the evidence of intelligent design in every word and phrase. the song is a unit and each phrase contains a definite idea, therefore it must not be detached or fragmentary, but must have the element of continuity and each and every part must be made to contribute to the central idea. the element of insecurity must not be allowed to enter. if it does, the listener feels that the singer is not sure of himself, that he cannot do what he set out to do: therefore he is a failure. another demand is that the singer shall be intelligent. a poem does not lose its meaning or its strength by being associated with music, and to this end the singer must deliver the text with the same understanding and appreciation of its meaning as would a public reader. now from the above we infer certain principles. the demand for continuity means that the singer must have a pure _legato_. that is, he must be able to connect words smoothly, to pass from one word to another without interrupting the tone, that the tone may be continuous throughout each phrase. the feeling of security lies in what is known as _sostenuto_, the ability to sustain the tone throughout the phrase with no sense of diminishing power. it means in short the organ time. from the demand for design in each word and phrase comes _contrast_. this may be made in the power of the tone by means of cres. dim. sfz. it may be made in the tempo by means of the retard, accelerando, the hold, etc. it may also be made in the quality of the tone by using the various shades from bright to somber. the basis of phrasing then, may be found in legato, sostenuto and contrast. all of the other things involved in interpretation cannot make a good performance if these fundamental principles be lacking. a more complete outline of interpretation follows: an outline of interpretation { pitches reading { note lengths { rhythm { vowels { enunciation { consonants diction { pronunciation { accent { emphasis { even scale voice { quality { freedom { breath control { attack technic { flexibility { execution { legato phrasing { sostenuto { power { contrast { tempo { color { proportion { emotional concept mood { facial expression { stage presence most of the things mentioned in this outline of interpretation have been discussed elsewhere, but the subject of diction requires further explanation. diction the mechanism of speech might be discussed at any length, but to reduce it to its simplest form it consists of the sound producing instrument,--the vocal cords, the organs of enunciation--lips, tongue, teeth and soft palate, and the channel leading to the outer air. when the vocal cords are producing pitch and the channel is free the result is a vowel. if an obstruction is thrown into the channel the result is a consonant. vowels and consonants, then, constitute the elements of speech. the vowels are the emotional elements and the consonants are the intellectual elements. by means of vowel sounds alone emotions may be awakened, but when definite ideas are expressed, words which are a combination of vowels and consonants must be used. it is nothing short of amazing that with this simple mechanism, by using the various combinations of open and obstructed channel in connection with pitch, the entire english language or any other language for that matter can be produced. vowels are produced with an open channel from the vocal cords to the outer air. consonants are produced by partial or complete closing of the channel by interference of the lips, tongue, teeth and soft palate. if language consisted entirely of vowels learning to sing would be much simpler than it is. it is the consonants that cause trouble. it is not uncommon to find students who can vocalize with comparative ease, but the moment they attempt to sing words the mechanism becomes rigid. the tendency toward rigidity is much greater in enunciating consonants than it is in enunciating vowels, and yet they should be equally easy. here is where the student finds his greatest difficulty in mastering english diction. the most frequent criticism of american singers is their deficiency in diction. whether it please us or no, it must be admitted that on the whole the criticism is not without foundation. the importance of effective speech is much underestimated by students of singing, and yet it requires but a moment's consideration to see that the impression created by speech is the result of forceful diction no less than of subject matter. words mean the same thing whether spoken or sung, and the singer no less than the speaker should deliver them with a full understanding of their meaning. the proposition confronting the singer is a difficult one. when he attempts the dramatic he finds that it destroys his legato. he loses the sustained quality of the organ tone, which is the true singing tone, and _bel canto_ is out of the question. this is what is urged against the operas of wagner and practically everything of the german school since his day. the dramatic element is so intense and the demand so strenuous that singers find it almost, if not quite impossible, to keep the singing tone and reach the dramatic heights required. they soon find themselves shouting in a way that not only destroys the singing tone but also the organ that produces it. the truth of this cannot be gainsaid. there is a considerable amount of vocal wreckage strewn along the way, the result of wrestling with wagnerian recitative. wagnerian singers are, as a rule, vocally shorter lived than those that confine themselves to french and italian opera. but it will be argued by some that these people have not learned how to sing, that if they had a perfect vocal method they could sing wagner as easily as massenet. that they have not learned to sing wagner is evident, and this brings us to the question--shall the singer adjust himself to the composer or the composer to the singer? a discussion of this would probably lead nowhere, but i submit the observation, that many modern composers show a disregard for the possibilities and limitations of the human voice that amounts to stupidity. because a composer can write great symphonies the public is inclined to think that everything he writes is great. let it be understood once for all that bad voice writing is bad whether it is done by a symphonic writer or a popular songwriter. in the present stage of human development there are certain things the voice can do and other things it cannot do, and these things can be known only by those who understand the voice, and are accustomed to working with it. to ignore them completely when writing for voices is no evidence of genius. composers seem to forget that the singer must create the pitch of his instrument as well as its quality at the moment he uses it. they also forget that his most important aid in this is the feeling of tonality. when this is destroyed and the singer is forced to measure intervals abstractedly he is called upon to do something immeasurably more difficult than anything that is asked of the instrumentalist. many modern composers have lost their heads and run amuck on the modern idiom, and their writing for voices is so complex that it would require a greater musician to sing their music than it did to write it. but to return, i do not say that it is impossible to apply the principles of _bel canto_ to wagner's dramatic style of utterance. on the contrary i believe it is possible to gain such a mastery of voice production and enunciation that the wagnerian roles may be sung, not shouted, and still not be lacking in dramatic intensity, but it requires a more careful study of diction and its relation to voice production than most singers are willing to make. a majority of singers never succeed in establishing the right relation between the vocal organ and the organs of enunciation. years of experience have verified this beyond peradventure. it is a very common thing for singers to vocalize for an indefinite period with no ill effect, but become hoarse with ten minutes of singing. the reason is apparent. they have learned how to produce vowels with a free throat but not consonants. the moment they attempt to form a consonant, tension appears, not only in those parts of the mechanism which form the consonant, but in the vocal organ as well. under such treatment the voice soon begins to show wear, and this is exactly what happens to those singers who find it difficult to sing the wagner operas. the solution of this problem lies in the proper study of diction. the intellectual elements of speech consonants are formed almost entirely in the front of the mouth with various combinations of lips, tongue and teeth. three things are necessary to their complete mastery. =first,=--consonants must be produced without tension. it will be well to remember in this connection that consonants are not to be sung. they are points of interference and must be distinct but short. the principle of freedom applies to consonants no less than to vowels. =second,=--consonants must not be allowed to interrupt the continuity of the pitch produced by the vocal cords. this is necessary to preserve legato. some consonants close the channel completely, others only partially. it is a great achievement to be able to sing all consonant combinations and still preserve a legato. =third,=--consonants must in no way interfere with the freedom of the vocal organ. if the student attempts to sing the consonants, that is, to prolong them he is sure to make his throat rigid and the pure singing tone at once disappears. he must therefore learn dramatic utterance without throwing the weight of it on the throat. to do this he must begin with a consonant which offers the least resistance and practice it until the three points mentioned have been mastered. the one which will give the least trouble is l. at the pitch g sing ah-lah-lah-lah-lah, until it can be done with relaxed tongue, with perfect continuity of tone, and with perfect freedom in the vocal instrument. in the same way practice n, d, v, th, m, and the sub vocals, b, d, g. always begin with a vowel. if the singer has the patience to work the problem out in this way he can apply the principles of _bel canto_ to dramatic singing. the road to this achievement is long, longer than most people suspect, but if one is industrious and persevering it may be accomplished. but there remains yet to be mentioned the most important element of artistic singing. to the pure tone and perfect diction must be added the imagination. the _imagination_ is the image making power of the mind, the power to create or reproduce ideally that which has been previously perceived: the power to call up mental images. by means of the imagination we take the materials of experience and mold them into idealized forms. the aim of creative art is to idealize, that is, to portray nature and experience in perfect forms not with the imperfections of visible nature. "in this" says hegel, "art is superior to nature." the activity of the imagination is directly responsible for that most essential thing--emotional tone. taking intelligence for granted, the imagination is the most important factor involved in interpretation. if the imagination be quick and responsive it will carry the singer away from himself and temporarily he will live the song. every song has an atmosphere, a metaphysical something which differentiates it from every other song. the singer must discover it and find the mood which will perfectly express it. if his imagination constructs the image, creates the picture, recalls the feeling, the emotion, the result will be artistic singing. the song is that which comes from the soul of the singer. it is not on the printed page. if i study a schubert song until i have mastered it, i have done nothing to schubert. it is i who have grown. through the activity of the imagination, guided by the intelligence, i have built up in my consciousness as nearly as possible what i conceive to have been schubert's feeling when he wrote the song, but the work has all been done on myself. a chapter might be written on the artistic personality. it reveals itself in light, shade, nuance, inflection, accent, color, always with a perfect sense of proportion, harmony and unity, and free from all that is earthy. it is the expression of individuality. it cannot be imitated. if you ask me for its source i repeat again whistler's immortal saying: "art is an expression of eternal, absolute truth, and starting from the infinite it cannot progress, =it is=." vii the construction of a song. has he put the emphasis on his work in the place where it is most important? has he so completely expressed himself that the onlooker cannot fail to find his meaning? _appreciation of art_. loveridge. when you listen to a song and at its close say, "that is beautiful," do you ever stop and try to discover why it is beautiful? the quest may lead you far into the field of aesthetics, and unless you are accustomed to psychological processes you may find yourself in a maze from which escape is difficult. let us remember that in studying the construction of a song we are dealing with states of mind. a song is the product of a certain mood and its direct aim is to awaken a similar mood in others. it is a well established fact that sound is the most common and the most effective way of expressing and communicating the emotions, not only for man but for the lower animals as well. this method of communication doubtless began far back in the history of the race and was used to express bodily pain or pleasure. the lower animals convey their feelings to each other by sounds, not by words, and these sounds awaken in others the same feeling as that which produced them. we see, then, that emotion may be expressed by sound and be awakened by sound, and this obtains among human beings no less than among the lower animals. in the long process of ages sound qualities have become indissolubly associated with emotional states, and have become the most exciting, the most powerful sense stimulus in producing emotional reactions. the cry of one human being in pain will excite painful emotions in another. an exclamation of joy will excite a similar emotion in others, and so on through the whole range of human emotions. herbert spencer holds that the beginning of music may be traced back to the cry of animals, which evidently has an emotional origin and purpose. it is a far cry from the beginning of music as described by spencer to the modern art song, but from that time to this the principle has remained the same. the emotional range of the lower animals is small, doubtless limited to the expression of bodily conditions, but the human race through long ages of growth has developed an almost unlimited emotional range, hence the vehicle for its expression has of necessity increased in complexity. to meet this demand music as a science has evolved a tone system. that is, from the infinite number of tones it has selected something over a hundred having definite mathematical relationships, fixed vibrational ratios. the art of music takes this system of tones and by means of combinations, progressions and movements which constitute what is called musical composition, it undertakes to excite a wide variety of emotions. the aim and office of music is to create moods. it does not arrive at definite expression. there is no musical progression which is universally understood as an invitation to one's neighbor to pass the bread. the pianist cannot by any particular tone combination make his audience understand that his left shoe pinches, but he can make them smile or look serious. he can fill them with courage or bring them to tears without saying a word. in listening to the bach _b minor mass_ one can tell the _sanctus_ from the _gloria in excelsis_ without knowing a word of latin. the music conveys the mood unmistakably. a song is a union of music and poetry, a wedding if you please and as in all matrimonial alliances the two contracting parties should be in harmony. the poem creates a mood not alone by what it expresses directly but by what it implies, what it suggests. its office is to stimulate the imagination rather than to inform by direct statement of facts. the office of music is to strengthen, accentuate, and supplement the mood of the poem, to translate the poem into music. the best song then, will be one in which both words and music most perfectly create the same mood. arnold bennett's definition of literature applies equally well to the song. he says: "that evening when you went for a walk with your faithful friend, the friend from whom you hid nothing--or almost nothing--you were, in truth, somewhat inclined to hide from him the particular matter which monopolized your mind that evening, but somehow you contrived to get on to it, drawn by an overpowering fascination. and as your faithful friend was sympathetic and discreet, and flattered you by a respectful curiosity, you proceeded further and further into the said matter, growing more and more confidential, until at last you cried out in a terrific whisper: 'my boy she is simply miraculous:' at that moment you were in the domain of literature." now when such impassioned, spontaneous utterance is brought under the operation of musical law we have a perfect song. the composer furnished the words and music, but the thing which makes it a song comes from the singer, from the earnestness and conviction with which he delivers the message. songs are divided into two general classes: those expressing the relationships of human beings, such as love, joy, sorrow, chivalry, patriotism, etc., and those expressing the relationship of man to his creator; veneration, devotion, praise, etc. the two great sources of inspiration to song writers have always been love and religion. what are the principles of song construction? they are all comprised in the law of fitness. the composer must do what he sets out to do. the materials with which he has to work are rhythm, melody and harmony. the most important thing in a song is the melody. this determines to a very great extent the health and longevity of the song. most of the songs that have passed the century mark and still live do so by reason of their melody. there must be a sense of fitness between the poem and the melody. a poem which expresses a simple sentiment requires a simple melody. a simple story should be told simply. if the poem is sad, joyous, or tragic the melody must correspond. otherwise the family discords begin at once. poetry cannot adapt itself to music, because its mood is already established. it is the business of the composer to create music which will supplement the poem. a lullaby should not have a martial melody, neither should an exhortation to lofty patriotism be given a melody which induces somnolence. the same sense of fitness must obtain in the accompaniment. the office of the accompaniment is not merely to keep the singer on the pitch. it must help to tell the story by strengthening the mood of the poem. it must not be trivial or insincere, neither must it overwhelm and thus draw the attention of the listeners to itself and away from the singer. the accompaniment is the clothing, or dress, of the melody. melodies, like people, should be well dressed but not over dressed. some melodies, like some people, look better in plain clothes than in a fancy costume. other melodies appear to advantage in a rich costume. modern songwriters are much inclined to overdress their melodies to the extent that the accompaniment forces itself upon the attention to the exclusion of the melody. such writing is as incongruous as putting on a dress suit to go to a fire. the significance of the theme should indicate the nature of the accompaniment. to take a simple sentiment and overload it with a modern complex harmonic accompaniment is like going after sparrows with a sixteen inch siege gun. comedy in the song should not be associated with tragedy in the accompaniment. a lively poem should not have a lazy accompaniment. the great songwriters were models in this respect. this accounts for their greatness. take for example schubert's _wohin_ and _der wanderer_, schumann's _der nussbaum_, brahms' _feldeinsamkeit_. these accompaniments are as full of mood as either poem or melody. the element of proportion enters into songwriting no less than into architecture. a house fifteen by twenty feet with a tower sixty feet high and a veranda thirty feet wide would be out of proportion. a song with sixty-four measures of introduction and sixteen measures for the voice would be out of proportion. making a song is similar to painting a landscape. in the painting the grass, flowers, shrubbery etc., are in the foreground, then come the hills and if there be a mountain range it is in the background. if the mountain range were in the foreground it would obscure everything else. so in making a song. if it tells a story and reaches a climax the climax should come near the end of the song. when the singer has carried his audience with him up to a great emotional height then all it needs is to be brought back safely and quickly to earth and left there. association i have mentioned the principles of song construction, but there are other things which have to do with making a song effective. one of the most important of these is association. let us remember that the effect and consequent value of music depends upon the class of emotions it awakens rather than upon the technical skill of the composer, and that these emotions are dependent to a considerable extent upon association. we all remember the time honored expedient of tying a string around a finger when a certain thing is to be remembered. the perception of the digital decoration recalls the reason for it and thus the incident is carried to a successful conclusion. in like manner feelings become associated with ideas. church bells arouse feelings of reverence and devotion. to many of us a brass band awakens pleasant memories of circus day. _scots wha hae_ fills the scotchman with love for his native heather. the odor of certain flowers is offensive because we associate it with a sad occasion. the beauty of a waltz is due not only to its composition but also to our having danced to it under particularly pleasant circumstances. at the opera there are many things that combine to make it a pleasant occasion--the distant tuning of the orchestra, the low hum of voices, the faint odor of violets, and the recollection of having been there before with that miracle of a girl,--all combine to fill us with pleasurable anticipation. in this way we give as much to the performance as it gives to us. according to some aestheticians the indefinable emotions we sometimes feel when listening to music are the reverberations of feelings experienced countless ages ago. this may have some foundation in fact, but it is somewhat like seeing in a museum a mummy of ourselves in a previous incarnation. songs which have the strongest hold upon us are those which have been in some way associated with our experience. the intensity with which such songs as _annie laurie_, _dixie_, _the vacant chair_, _tramp, tramp, tramp_ grip us is due almost entirely to association. therefore the value of a song consists not alone in what it awakens in the present, but in what it recalls from the past. man is the sum of his experience; and to make past experience contribute to the joy of the present is to add abundance to riches. viii how to study a song the accent of truth apparent in the voice when speaking naturally is the basis of expression in singing. garcia. _hints on singing_. first determine the general character of the song. a careful study of the words will enable the student to find its general classification. it may be dramatic, narrative, reminiscent, introspective, contemplative, florid, sentimental. the following are examples: dramatic, _the erl king_, schubert. narrative, _the two grenadiers_, schumann. reminiscent, _der doppelgänger_, schubert. florid, _indian bell song_, from lakme, delibes. introspective, _in der frühe_, hugo wolf. contemplative, _feldeinsamkeit_, brahms. songs of sentiment. this includes all songs involving the affections and the homely virtues. to these might be added songs of exaltation, such as beethoven's "nature's adoration." character songs, in which the singer assumes a character and expresses its sentiments. a good example of this is "the poet's love" cycle by schumann. classifying the song in this way is the first step toward discovering its atmosphere. there is always one tempo at which a song sounds best and this tempo must grow out of a thorough understanding of its character. metronome marks should be unnecessary. intelligent study of a song will unerringly suggest the proper tempo. next, study the poem until it creates the mood. read it, not once, but many times. imbibe not only its intellectual but its emotional content. it is the office of poetry to stimulate the imagination. it is under the influence of this stimulus that songs are written, and under its influence they must be sung. hugo wolf said that he always studied the poem until it composed the music. this means that he studied the poem until he was so filled with its mood that the proper music came of itself. fix in mind the principal points in the poem and the order in which they occur. there usually is development of some kind in a poem. learn what it is. notice which part of the poem contains the great or central idea. read it aloud. determine its natural accent. the singing phrase grows out of the spoken phrase. singing is elongated, or sustained, speech, but it should be none the less intelligent by reason of this. now adapt the words to the music. if the music has grown out of the words as it should, it will follow the development of the poem and give it additional strength. by this time one should be in the mood of the song, and he should not emerge from it until the song is finished. if one is filled with the spirit of the song, is sincere and earnest, and is filled with a desire to express what is beautiful and good he will not sing badly even if his voice be ordinary. the composer may do much toward creating the mood for both singer and listener by means of his introduction. the introduction to a song is not merely to give the singer the pitch. it is for the purpose of creating the mood. it may be reminiscent of the principal theme of the song, it may consist of some fragment of the accompaniment, or any other materials which will tend to create the desired mood. in the introduction to _rhein-gold_ where wagner wishes to portray a certain elemental condition he uses measures of the chord of e flat major. in _feldeinsamkeit_ (the quiet of the fields) where the mood is such as would come to one lying in the deep grass in the field watching "the fair white clouds ride slowly overhead," in a state of complete inaction, brahms establishes the mood by this treatment of the major chord. [illustration: figure k] in _der wanderer_ (the wanderer) schubert uses this musical figure to indicate the ceaseless motion of one condemned to endless wandering. [illustration: figure l] in _the maid of the mill_ cycle where the young miller discovers the brook schubert uses this figure, which gives a clear picture of a chattering brooklet. this figure continues throughout the song. [illustration: figure m] in the song _on the journey home_, which describes the feelings of one who, after a long absence returns to view the "vales and mountains" of his youth, grieg, with two measures of introduction grips us with a mood from which we cannot escape. [illustration: figure n] but one of the most striking examples of the operation of genius is schubert's introduction to _am meer_ (by the sea). here with two chords he tells us the story of the lonely seashore, the deserted hut, the tears, the dull sound of breakers dying on a distant shore, and all around the unfathomable mystery of the mighty deep. [illustration: figure o] classic song literature is full of interesting examples of this kind. if we learn how to study the works of these great ones of the earth we shall see how unerring is the touch of genius, and some day we shall awaken to see that these kings and prophets are our friends, and that they possess the supreme virtue of constancy. ix scientific voice production the immediate effect of the laryngoscope was to throw the whole subject into almost hopeless confusion by the introduction of all sorts of errors of observation, each claiming to be founded on ocular proof, and believed in with corresponding obstinacy. sir morell mackenzie. _hygiene of the vocal organs_. he who studies the voice in a physics laboratory naturally considers himself a scientific man, and those teachers who make his discoveries the basis of their teaching believe they are teaching the science of voice production. the scientist says: "have i not studied the voice in action? i have seen, therefore i know." but the element of uncertainty in what he has seen makes his knowledge little more than speculative. but suppose he is sure of what he has seen. of what importance is it? he has seen a vocal organ in the act of producing tone under trying conditions, for one under the conditions necessary to the use of the laryngoscope is not at all likely to reach his own standard of tone production. scientists would have us believe that the action of the vocal mechanism is the same in all voices. this claim must necessarily be made or there would be no such thing as scientific production. but of all the vocal vagaries advanced this has the least foundation in fact. scientifically and artistically speaking there is no such thing at present as perfect voice, and there will be no such thing until man manifests a perfect mind. the best examples of voice production are not altogether perfect, and most of them are still a considerable distance from perfection. it is with these imperfect models that the scientific man in dealing and on which he bases his deductions. be it right or wrong singers do not all use the vocal mechanism in the same way. i have in mind two well known contraltos one of whom carried her chest register up to a, and even to b flat occasionally. the other carried her middle register down to the bottom of the voice. can the tenor who carries his chest voice up to [illustration: figure p] be said to use his voice in the same way as one who begins his head voice at [illustration: figure q]? in the examination of a hundred voices selected at random all manner of different things would be observed. perhaps this is responsible for the great diversity of opinion among scientists, for it must be said that so far there is little upon which they agree. before absolute laws governing any organ or instrument can be formulated the nature of the instrument must be known. the scientists have never come anywhere near an agreement as to what kind of an instrument man has in his throat. they have not decided whether it is a stringed instrument, a brass, a single or double reed, and these things are vital in establishing a scientific basis of procedure. not knowing what the instrument is, it is not strange that we are not of one mind as to how it should be played upon. if we are to know the science of voice production we must first know the mechanism and action of the vocal organ. this instrument, perhaps an inch and a half in length, produces tones covering a compass, in rare instances, of three octaves. how does it do it? according to the books, in a variety of ways. a majority of those voice teachers who believe in registers recognize three adjustments, chest middle, and upper, or chest medium, and head, but dr. mackenzie claims that in four hundred female voices which he examined he found in most cases the chest mechanism was used throughout. mancini ( ) says there are instances in which there is but one register used throughout. garcia says there are three mechanisms--chest, falsetto, and head, and makes them common to both sexes. behnke divides the voice into five registers--lower and upper thick, lower and upper thin, and small. dr. guilmette says that to hold that all of the tones of the voice depend on one mechanism or register is an acknowledgment of ignorance of vocal anatomy. he further declares that the vocal cords have nothing to do with tone--that it is produced by vibration of the mucous membrane of the trachea, larynx, pharynx, mouth; in fact, all of the mucous membrane of the upper half of the body. when it comes to the falsetto voice, that scarehead to so many people who have no idea what it is, but are morally sure it is wicked and ungodly, the scientists give their imaginations carte blanche. dr. mackenzie, who says there are but two mechanisms, the long and short reed, says the falsetto is produced by the short reed. lehfeldt and muller hold that falsetto is produced by the vibrations of the inner edges or mucous covering of the vocal cords, the body of the cords being relaxed. mr. lunn feels sure that the true vocal cords are not involved in falsetto, that voice being produced by the false vocal cords. mantels says that in the falsetto voice the vocal cords do not produce pitch, that the quality and mechanism are both that of the flute, that the cords set the air in vibration and the different tones are made by alterations in the length of the tube. davidson palmer says that the falsetto is the remnant of the boy's voice which has deteriorated through lack of use, but which is the correct mechanism to be used throughout the tenor voice. mr. chater argues along the same lines as mr. mantels except that he makes the instrument belong to the clarinet or oboe class. others believe the vocal cords act as the lips do in playing a brass instrument. but the action of the vocal cords is but the first part of the unscientific controversy. what takes place above the vocal cords is equally mystifying. the offices of the pharynx, the mouth, the nasal cavities, the entire structure of the head in fact, are rich in uncertainties. some think the cavities of the pharynx and head are involved acoustically and in some way enlarge, refine and purify the tone, but one famous man says the head has nothing whatever to do with it. another gentleman of international reputation says the nose is the most important factor in singing. if your nasal cavities are right you can sing, otherwise you cannot. and so this verbal rambling continues; so the search for mind in matter goes on, with a seriousness scarcely equalled in any other line of strife. there is nothing more certain to permanently bewilder a vocal student than to deluge him with pseudo-scientific twaddle about the voice. and this for the simple reason that he comes to learn to sing, not for a course in anatomy. what is scientific voice production? books without number have been written with the openly expressed intention to give a clear exposition of the subject, but the seeker for a scientific method soon finds himself in a maze of conflicting human opinions from which he cannot extricate himself. we are told with much unction and warmth that science means to know. that it is a knowledge of principles or causes, ascertained truths or facts. a scientific voice teacher then must know something. what must he know? books on scientific voice production usually begin with a picture of the larynx, each part of which is labeled with a greek word sometimes longer than the thing itself. it then proceeds to tell the unction of each muscle and cartilage and the part it plays in tone production. now if this is scientific, and if science is exact knowledge, and this exact knowledge is the basis of scientific voice teaching, then every one who has a perfect knowledge of these facts about the voice, must in the eternal and invariable nature of facts be a perfect voice teacher, and every one of these perfect voice teachers must teach in exactly the same way and produce exactly the same results. does history support this argument? quite the reverse. there is a science of acoustics, and in this science one may learn all about tones, vibrating bodies, vibrating strings, vibrating cavities, simple, compound and complex vibrations. will this knowledge make him a scientific voice teacher? when he has learned all of this he has not yet begun to prepare for voice teaching. there is no record of a great voice teacher having been trained in a physics laboratory. it is possible to analyze a tone and learn how fundamental and upper partials are combined and how these combinations affect quality. does this constitute scientific voice production? this knowledge may all be gained from the various hand books on acoustics. has any one the hardihood to assert that such knowledge prepares one for the responsible work of training voices? one may know all of this and still be as ignorant of voice training as a hottentot is of calvinism. further, who shall decide which particular combination of fundamental and upper partials constitutes the perfect singing tone? if a tone is produced and we say, there is the perfect tone, all it proves is that it corresponds to our mental concept of tone. it satisfies our ear, which is another term for our taste. can a tone be disagreeable and still be scientifically produced? one combination of fundamental and overtones is, strictly speaking, just as scientific as another combination. the flute tone with its two overtones is just as scientific as the string tone with its six or eight. a tone is pleasant or disagreeable according as it corresponds to a mental demand. even the most hardened scientist would not call a tone which offends his ear scientific. therefore he must first produce, or have produced the tone that satisfies his ear. the question then naturally arises--when he has secured the tone that satisfies his ear of what value beyond satisfying his curiosity is a physical analysis? a tone is something to hear, and when it satisfies the ear that knows, that in itself is unmistakable evidence that it is rightly produced. if this scientific knowledge of tone is necessary then every great artist in the world is unscientific, because not one of them makes any use whatsoever of such knowledge in his singing. no. all of the scientific knowledge one may acquire is no guaranty of success as a teacher, but is rather in the nature of a hindrance, because it is likely to lead him into mechanical ways of doing things. further, the possession of such knowledge is no indication that one will use it in his teaching. how much of such knowledge can one use in teaching? how can he tell, save from the tone itself whether the pupil is producing it scientifically? it is a well established fact that the more the teacher tries to use his scientific information in teaching the less of an artist he becomes. could it be possible that a beautiful tone could be produced contrary to the laws of science? it would be an extraordinary mind that would argue in the affirmative. =the most beautiful tone is the most perfectly produced, whether the singer knows anything of vocal mechanism or not.= in such a tone there is no consciousness of mechanics or scientific laws. the vocal mechanism is responding automatically to the highest law in the universe--the law of beauty. the most scientific thing possible is a beautiful idea perfectly expressed, because a thing inherently beautiful is eternally true, hence it is pure science. every tone of the human voice is the expression of life, of an idea, a feeling, an emotion, and unless interfered with the vocal mechanism responds automatically. he who by experiment or reading has learned the action of the vocal mechanism, and attempts to make his pupil control every part of it by direct effort may imagine that he is teaching scientific voice production, but he is not, he is only doing a mechanical thing in a clumsy way. is it a scientific act to tell a pupil to hold his tongue down, as one writer argued recently? is a teacher calling into action the eternal laws of science when he tells his pupil to drive the tone through the head, hoist the soft palate, groove the tongue, and make the diaphragm rigid? no. he is simply doing a mechanical thing badly for want of a better way. it is no more scientific than kicking the cat out of the way if she gets under your feet. any one who has learned the elements of psychology or philosophy knows that everything exists first as idea. the real universe is the one that exists in the mind of the creator. the real man is the part of him that thinks. to hold that the body thinks or acts is equivalent to saying that gray's "elegy" was in the pen with which the poet wrote. to a natural scientist the only real thing is what he can see, therefore he bases his faith on what he conceives to be matter; but if we study the great ones--oswald, huxley, grant, allen, and the like, we find that they have long ago reached the conclusion that there is no such thing as matter. according to schopenhauer the world is idea, and this so called material environment is thought objectifying itself. vocal teachers, like the members of other professions, are not altogether immune to an attack of intellect, and at such times the thought that they are doing something scientific is particularly agreeable. the only study of science that can benefit any one is the study of causation, and causation cannot be cognized by the physical senses. we never see, hear, feel, taste, or smell cause. what we see or hear is effect. causation is mental. natural science is dealing with phenomena, with effect not cause. a regular recurrence of phenomena may establish a so called natural law, but the law is that which caused the phenomena, "law is force" says hegel, and it is therefore mental. we are told that the law of the earth is its path around the sun. this is not true, the law of the earth is the mind which makes it revolve around the sun. if we would learn the nature, activity, and cause of anything we must look for it in _mind_ not in matter. for this reason the process of voice production is _psychologic_ not physiologic. when a pupil sings, what we hear is _effect_ not cause. if he is doing all manner of unnecessary things with his lips, tongue, larynx, etc. what we see is effect and the cause is in wrong _mental_ concepts. the thing which caused the tone is _mental_, the force which produced it is _mental_, and the means by which we know whether it is good, or bad is _mental_. of this we may be sure, that the tone the pupil sings will not be better than the one he has in mind. _a tone exists first as a mental concept, and the quality of the mental concept determines the quality of the tone._ if there be such a thing as scientific voice production it will be found in the sense of what is inherently beautiful, and the scientific tone is one which will perfectly express a right idea or emotion, and in the nature of things there is an appropriate tone for everything that may be legitimately expressed, for they are correlated ideas. whence originated this so called scientific voice teaching? that the old italian knew nothing of it is well understood. they considered the process artistic rather than scientific. _how does it sound_, was their slogan. the thing uppermost in their minds was beautiful tone, and they were wise enough to know that when one has a definite concept of the pure singing tone he has a more valuable asset than all the mechanical knowledge he can acquire. they had but one end in view, namely, a finished artist, and everything they did was made to contribute to it. the artist always has in mind the _finished product_. the scientist tries to find out _how it is done_. the artist begins with the idea and works forward to its complete expression. the scientist begins with the physical mechanism and works backward toward the idea. what is responsible for the change from the methods of the the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries? it is safe to say that it did not come through the voice teachers. in the early part of the nineteenth century an interesting thing happened. how it happened or why it happened at that particular time is not known nor does it matter. the human mind became all at once aggressively inquisitive. the desire to get at the ultimate of everything took possession of humanity and still holds it. the result was an era of scientific analysis and invention, the aim of which was to control the forces of nature. previous to that time methods of living, production, transportation, agriculture, etc. were little different from that of biblical times. people and nations lived much to themselves. they looked within for their inspiration and developed their own national characteristics. but with the invention of the steamship, railway, and telegraph a change came. these improved methods of transportation and communication brought all of the mentalities of the world together, and soon all habitable parts of the globe were in daily and hourly contact. the result was a mental fermentation which increased the complexity of civilization immeasurably and the present exaggerated and unnatural condition of society is the outgrowth. between and were born mendelssohn, chopin, schumann, liszt, and wagner. these men are known as the founders of the modern romantic school of music. they grew up with the new civilization and could not do otherwise than reflect its complexity in their music. that the new civilization was responsible for the new art there is no doubt whatever. all old types have passed away. all branches of art have suffered radical changes in conforming to new ideals. since the wave of scientific investigation started around the world nothing has been able to escape it. the hand of the scientist has been upon everything, and to him rather than to the voice teachers must be given the credit for originating scientific voice teaching. when the scientists began publishing the results of their investigations voice teachers at once became interested. the plan looked promising. it offered them a method shorn of uncertainties. a method that brought everything under the operation of physical laws; a method that dealt only with finalities, and would operate in spite of a lack of musical intelligence on the part of the student, and at the same time enable them to lay to their souls the flattering unction of science. true it ignored altogether the psychology of the matter. it said "do it this way and a beautiful tone will come whether you are thinking it or not, because scientific laws eternally operating in the same way eternally produce the same results." the scientific method gave voice teachers an opportunity to work with something tangible, something they could see; whereas the development of tone concept, the artistic instinct, musical feeling, and musicianship had to do with things which to most of them were intangible and elusive. no one doubts the honesty of the teachers who became obsessed with the scientific idea. to them it meant increased efficiency and accuracy, quicker results with less effort, and so they broke with the old italians, the basis of whose teaching was beautiful tone and beautiful singing. in spite of the honesty of purpose of all those who followed the new way, the results were calamitous. the art of singing received a serious setback. voices without number were ruined. from the middle to the end of the nineteenth century the scientific idea was rampant, and during that period it is probable that the worst voice teaching in the history of the world was done. large numbers of people with neither musicianship nor musical instincts acquired a smattering of anatomy and a few mechanical rules and advertised themselves as teachers of scientific voice production. the great body of vocal students, anxious to learn to sing in the shortest possible time, having no way of telling the genuine from the spurious except by trying it, fell an easy prey, and the amount of vocal damage and disaster visited upon singers in the name of science is beyond calculation. fortunately the reaction has begun. slowly but surely we are returning to a saner condition of mind. every year adds to the number of those who recognize singing as an art, whose vision is clear enough to see that the work of the scientific investigator should be confined to the laboratory and that it has no place in the studio. we are beginning to see that the basic principle of singing is _freedom in the expression of the beautiful_, and that the less there is of the mechanical in the process the better. bibliography the italian school of florid song. pier franceso tosi. london, . practical reflections on the figurative art of singing. mancini ( - ) english edition. boston, . the psychology of singing. david taylor. new york, . the philosophy of singing. clara kathleen rogers. new york, . my voice and i. clara kathleen rogers. chicago, . the rightly produced voice. davidson palmer. london, . expression in singing. h. s. kirkland. boston, . the art of the singer. w. j. henderson. new york, . english diction for singers and speakers. louis arthur russell. boston, . resonance in speaking and singing. thomas fillebrown. boston, . hints of singing. garcia. london, . the singing of the future. d. ffrangcon-davies. london, . voice, song, and speech. brown and behnke. london, . voice building and tone placing. h. holbrook curtis, m. d. new york, . vocal physiology. alex. guilmette, m. d. boston, . the philosophy of art. edward howard griggs. new york, . ancient art and ritual. jane ellen harrison. new york, . the musical amateur. robert schauffler. new york, . art for art's sake. john c. van dyke. new york, . what is art. count leo tolstoi. new york. the life of reason. george santayana. new york, . the creative imagination. ribot. chicago, . esthetics. kate gordon. new york, . the new laocoon. irving babbit. boston, . a new esthetic. ferrucio busoni. new york, . the scientific use of the imagination. fragments of science. john tyndall. london. the philosophy of style. herbert spencer. the evolution of the art of music. hubert parry. new york, . studies in modern music. w. h. hadow. london, . appreciation of art. blanche loveridge. granville, o., . music and nationalism. cecil forsyth. london, . the sensations of tone. h. l. f. helmholtz. london, . the mechanism of the human voice. (curwen's edition, .) by emil behnke, _late lecturer on vocal physiology at the tonic sol-fa college, teacher of voice production._ edited, with a new chapter on "voice failure," by mrs. emil behnke. fifteenth edition. london: j. curwen & sons ltd., berners street, w. price s. d.; cloth s. d. preface to the ninth edition. preface to the third edition. preface to the second edition. preface to the first edition. contents. plates. index. footnotes. to my dear wife this essay is affectionately dedicated preface to the ninth edition. a ninth edition of this book having been called for, i take the opportunity to return my sincere thanks for the many kind expressions concerning its usefulness which have reached me since the lamented death of its author, my dear husband. in carrying on his work, both my daughter and myself have felt the benefit of the clear and concise instructions the book contains. we have also proved with our pupils the absolute truth and value of the behnke system of voice training, by means of which we have obtained results most gratifying to ourselves, and surprising to the pupils, whether speakers or singers. i hope that the new chapter on "voice failure," which i have added by mr. curwen's desire, may be of some use in preventing breakdown of voice, from which so many students suffer. k. behnke. , earl's court square, s.w. preface to the third edition. a third edition of this little book has now become necessary, and i must again express my gratitude for the continued commendations bestowed upon my work both in the press and in private letters. in response to many solicitations, i have added to this edition a few hints on teaching, deduced from physiological facts, which may prove useful by stimulating the advance of thought in a new direction. these hints are extracts from a series of articles on "science and singing" which i had the pleasure of writing in the _edinburgh st. cecilia magazine_; and i am indebted to the editor, mr. a. c. miller, for kindly permitting me to reproduce them here. preface to the second edition. the favourable reception and rapid sale of a large first edition has stimulated me to revise this little book, and without alteration of my original scheme of practical utility, to somewhat enlarge on one or two points which appeared to demand further elucidation. in this, as in the former edition, i have received great assistance from my friend mr. lennox browne, the eminent throat surgeon, who, by ever patiently discussing with me debatable points, and by giving me access to cases, interesting from a physiological point of view, both at the central throat and ear hospital, gray's inn road, and in his extensive private practice, has afforded me opportunities of increasing my knowledge and experience which would not have arisen otherwise. i feel it a pleasure as well as a duty publicly to acknowledge my indebtedness to him, which i have, many times before, expressed in private. my best thanks are also due to mr. j. spencer curwen, for the help he has rendered me in many ways. and finally, it would indeed be ungrateful on my part, if i did not place on record the obligation under which i consider myself to my reviewers for the uniformly favourable notice they have so kindly taken of my first effort, and for several useful hints of which i have duly taken advantage. one objection has been made which strikes at the very root of the plan upon which i have proceeded in my little volume, and to which, therefore, i beg leave to say a few words in reply. a learned writer in the _athenæum_ finds fault with me for making use of popular instead of scientific terms, which, he says, may be the cause to the reader of great confusion if he refers to other works, and he adds that "back ring-pyramid muscle" is almost as hard a mouthful as "crico-arytenoideus posticus." i have asked several non-scientific friends of good general education to read this sentence to me, and they succeeded very well with "back ring-pyramid muscle," while they utterly collapsed when coming to "crico-arytenoideus posticus." this is, however, in my humble opinion, of minor importance. the great point is, that my terms--which by the way are not inventions, but simply translations--convey a meaning to the general reader, and the originals do not. this is a fact which i dared not ignore, because my essay is intended for the people and not for men of science. as i have taken care also, for the sake of those who might wish to consult other and more learned books than mine, to give the terms generally used by physiologists by the side of my translations, i do not think there is anything that could ever confuse my readers. i conscientiously believe that these are good and weighty reasons for the plan i adopted in the first edition, and trust my reviewers, as well as my readers, will accept them as a sufficient justification of the same practice in the present volume. e. b. _february, ._ preface to the first edition. the number of books bearing more or less directly on the theory of voice production which have been published during the last few years is very large, and shows clearly the extraordinary interest taken in this subject, not only by professional singers and speakers, but also by the general public. if i am now about to add another contribution to this already extensive literature, it is simply because amongst all the many excellent works on the human voice there is not one which brings before the reader the whole subject from beginning to end. the student who really wishes to get a clear understanding of the matter is obliged to wade through a variety of scientific books, and to pick up here and there, by means of very hard reading, such little scraps of information as, with much labour and waste of time, he can extract from books which were, in most instances, never written for the purpose for which he consults them. * * * * * to supply this generally-admitted want i have written these pages, in which i have endeavoured, to the best of my ability, to place before the reader in a simple and comprehensive form the physiology of the human voice. i have, as far as possible, discarded all scientific terms, and it has been my aim to treat my subject in so simple and direct a manner as really to enlighten my readers instead of bewildering them. a treatise like this can, under no circumstances, be light reading; and i ask those who are truly anxious for information to give me patient study, accompanied by careful reference to the diagrams. for students who enter upon a perusal of these pages in such a spirit, this essay is specially intended; and if i have succeeded in making plain to such as these a really complicated subject, then my highest ambition will be satisfied. e. b. _april, ._ contents. pages introduction - the vocal organ as a musical instrument - differences of the voice-box, or larynx, in children, women, and men - movements of the voice-box, or larynx, which can be seen or felt - the laryngoscope, and how to use it - the teachings of the laryngoscope - appendix--hints on teaching - appendix to the ninth edition--voice failure appendix to the tenth edition--does diaphragmatic breathing apply equally to women as to men? index index to "voice failure footnotes. plates. pages i. general view of vocal organ _facing title_ ii. the lungs iii. the chest iv. chest capacity--methods of breathing v. side view of the larynx vi. front view of the larynx vii. larynx, side view showing interior viii. larynx, side view, muscles, &c. ix. larynx, side view, interior of left half x. the glottis in three states xi. larynx, section viewed from above xii. larynx, section viewed from behind sketch of laryngoscope designed by dr. foulis xiii. laryngoscopic image--breathing xiv. " " upper thick register xv. " " upper thin register xvi. " " small register diagram of compass of the registers introduction. we are living in an age which is singularly poor in fine voices, both male and female, and with regard to the tenors of the present time there is this additional misfortune, that, as a rule, their voices do not last, but are often worn out in a very few years; in many instances while their owners are still under training, and before they have had an opportunity of making their appearance in public. if we remember that there was a time when most beautiful and highly cultivated voices were so plentiful that even in comparatively small towns there were to be found opera companies consisting of excellent singers, we may well ask ourselves how this remarkable change for the worse has come about. people have attempted to account for it in various ways. up to the middle of the last century women were forbidden by ecclesiastical law to take part in church music. the voices of boys being available only for a very short time, means were taken to prevent their voices from breaking, and thus a class of male soprani and contralti was created, who made their first appearance in rome in the beginning of the th century, and to these singers the education of the female voices was soon almost exclusively entrusted. in the middle of the last century, however, when women were permitted to participate in church music, there was no longer any occasion to procure artificial female voices, and these singers gradually died out, though there were still some of them living and teaching in the beginning of the present century. according to rossini, who certainly was eminently qualified to give an opinion on the subject, the decline of vocal art in these latter years is mainly due to the disappearance of this class of singers, and if it be true that henceforth the training of female voices was undertaken by tenors, who, being of course unable to give a true pattern to their pupils, treated the female organ according to their own very different registers, then it can easily be understood that many voices must have been ruined by the process, and the scarcity of distinguished female singers would thus be satisfactorily accounted for. but i fail to see in what way the disappearance of male soprani and contralti could possibly have affected tenors and basses. again, it is asserted that the way in which modern composers write vocal music is the cause of the evil. certain it is that in the compositions of the old italian masters the voice is studied, and nothing introduced which is hurtful or disadvantageous. awkward intervals are avoided, no fatigue is caused, and everything is eminently _singable_; but the music is not always expressive of the sense of the words, which were clearly considered to be of minor importance. with our modern (and especially with the german) composers, it is just the opposite, their chief aim being thoroughly to enter, not only into the spirit of their text, but even into the slightest shade, the minutest detail of it, so as to make the music, as it were, a translation of their words into a higher kind of language. what, on the other hand, is possible or impossible for the voice is, since the time of beethoven, but rarely considered; many composers, even the most distinguished ones, having evidently little knowledge of the most beautiful of instruments, for which they are nevertheless continually writing. when one of the greatest living masters introduced the harp into his works, he wrote for it just as though it were a piano--_i.e._, as though it were to be played upon with the thumb and four fingers. but it so happens that on that instrument the fourth finger is never used. consequently, when it came to the point harpists could not play that gentleman's compositions: they had first to re-write them. here the composer, of course, was found out immediately, and he or any other man would have the same fate if he attempted to write for an instrument the properties of which he did not fully understand. but with the human voice the case is different. every musician believes himself to be competent to write for it, though he may possibly be wholly unacquainted with its many peculiarities. it is to be feared, therefore, that modern composers must be held largely responsible for the sad state of affairs concerning vocal art at the present time, and well might they learn a lesson from mozart, who, in spite of his genius, first carefully studied the human voice, and then wrote for it. another explanation of the decline of singing is this, that the gradual and very considerable rise of pitch during the last years is at the bottom of all the mischief, as the vocal organ is unable to bear the strain to which it is subjected. with regard to tenors, however, the great evil is, that with very few exceptions, such as the celebrated frenchman, roger, they disregard, or at any rate did disregard for a considerable period, the falsetto register, singing everything, however high, in chest voice. i am afraid it cannot be said even that they have been beguiled into this serious mistake by the imperceptible rise of pitch just mentioned, but the truth is that they have committed this fatal blunder knowingly and wilfully, because they saw that it would pay. in support of this statement i will quote a few lines from the publication called "the opera and the art of singing," by glogg-ner-castelli: "in the field of singing a new man arose, who, in spite of great personal attributes, worked destructively for the future, and whose influence upon the later manner of singing is seldom truly recognized. i mean the singer duprez. hissed off at first in paris, he turned to italy, where he stayed several years, and then returned to the french capital. when he came to use his magnificent vocal resources, as he did in the fourth act of _tell_, where he brought out the high c in the chest voice with all the might of his colossal organ, it was all over with the fame of all his predecessors. nourrit, till then the favourite of the parisians, a distinguished tenor singer, recognized the rival's power. his day was over, and in despair over his lost and irrecoverable glory, he flung himself from an upper window upon the pavement, and so made an end of his life. duprez may justly be considered one of the greatest dramatic singers of our time, and the main features of his method soon spread themselves all over europe. after hearing of duprez, and how the chest register could be cultivated even into the highest regions of the voice, the public were no longer contented with the use of the falsetto. soon it became impossible to be engaged as an "heroic tenor" without at least possessing the high b[b] in the chest tone. the singers found it a more thankful task to humour the taste of the public than to pay extra regard to the intentions of the composer; for often meyerbeer himself indicates, by a _pp_, his design that the falsetto and not the chest tone should be employed. that every tenor singer, whether such high pressure suited his natural compass or not, strove to screw his voice up and 'make effect' was very natural; for art goes after bread, and a high c with the chest voice often realizes an income of thousands to its fortunate possessor. roger has made a laudable exception; his beautiful use of the falsetto certainly produces a more agreeable effect than the forced chest tones so unnatural to the organ of many a singer. how widespread is this mistaken notion, that the use of the falsetto is entirely contrary to art, we hear frequently enough in the expressions of individuals when some unlucky tenor happens to get caught on one of these tabooed falsetto tones. thus the school founded by duprez, important in itself, has called into life a manner of singing, the ruinous consequences of which we can see daily." but whatever may be the true reason or reasons, the fact that we have very few singers of eminence as compared with former ages, and that vocal art in general has gone down, is undisputed, and men have set themselves to remedy the evil by trying to ascertain the actual process by which the voice is produced, thinking that if they could but find this out there would be a true scientific basis upon which to found a way of teaching singing--or as i should rather say, of training voices--which would be sure and unerring. * * * * * the experiments of the great physiologist johannes müller are well known, and they have been followed up by others. but they were made upon dissected larynges, and as various teachers of singing started the most conflicting theories as to how the process shown by müller was carried on in the living subject, and treated the voices of their pupils accordingly, these investigations have perhaps on the whole done more harm than good. science was made responsible for the blunders of those who attempted to be guided by it. and thus it has happened that when at a later period further trials were made, but this time upon the living subject, and in the act of singing, they were received with indifference and distrust. only very lately teachers of vocal music have begun to find out that here are facts put before them which cannot be gainsaid, and that if these investigations do nothing else, they at any rate make them acquainted with the exact nature of the vocal organ, and what it will bear and what it will not bear. the vocal organ as a musical instrument. "physiologists," says dr. witkowski,[a] "are quite at issue when they endeavour to determine what kind of instrument the vocal organ resembles; indeed, galien compares it to a flute, magendie to a hautboy, despiney to a trombone, diday to a hunting-horn, savart to a bird-catcher's call, biot to an organ-pipe, malgaigne to the little instrument used by the exhibitors of punch, and ferrein to a spinet or harpsichord. the last-named compared the lips of the glottis to the strings of a violin; hence was given the name _vocal cords_, which they have since retained. the current of air was the bow, the exertion of the chest and lungs the hand which carried the bow, the thyroid cartilages the _points d'appui_, the arytenoids the pegs, and lastly, the muscles inserted in them the power which tensed or relaxed the cords." it must be admitted that the human voice bears more resemblance to a reed instrument than to any other; but when the comparison is pushed to its legitimate consequences it is found to break down. we cannot resist the conclusion that the vocal organ is infinitely superior to any instrument made by human hands. its mechanism is so wonderful as to excite the profoundest admiration, and the more we continue to study it the more we marvel at the wisdom of the divine maker who planned it. i shall, therefore, speak of it simply as a wind instrument composed of-- .--the bellows. represented by the lungs. pl. i (frontispiece), l. .--the windpipe. pl. i, w. .--the voicebox or larynx. pl. i, v. .--the resonator. represented by (_a_) the upper part of the throat, or pharynx, pl. i, p; (_b_) the mouth, pl. i, m; (_c_) the nose, pl. i, n. [illustration: plate ii. the lungs r. right lung. l. left lung. w. windpipe (trachea). v. voicebox (larnyx). the top part of the left lung is represented as partly cut away in order to show the ramifications of the bronchial tubes.] [illustration: plate iii. the chest. b b. breast bone. c c. collar bones. to . ribs. (the twelfth not visible.) m (curved dotted line). midriff (diaphragm). l l. lungs. h. heart. w. windpipe (trachea). ] the lungs are enclosed in the chest, which they fit exactly, and of which they occupy by far the largest portion, leaving but a small space for the heart. they consist of two halves (pl. ii, r, l), each roughly resembling the upper part of a sugar-loaf somewhat flattened and hollowed out at the bottom. the left shows two and the right three distinct flaps or lobes. they are only connected by means of the windpipe (pl. ii, w) and its branches. =the chest= (pl. iii) is an air-tight chamber, which is narrower above than below. it is formed by the spine at the back, twelve ribs (pl. iii, to , the twelfth not visible on the drawing), with their inner and outer muscles on either side, the breast-bone (pl. iii, b b) in front, the root of the neck at the top, and the midriff or diaphragm (pl. i, m) at the bottom. =the midriff= (pl. iii, m) is a muscular and movable partition by which the lungs are separated from the abdomen. it is arched upwards like an inverted basin, but when its muscular fibres contract it flattens and descends, thus increasing the capacity of the chest at the expense of that of the abdomen. =the function of the lungs= is, as everybody knows, respiration, which may be considered from a mechanical or a chemical point of view. in this little work we are only concerned with the mechanical part of the subject. if we examine the lungs of a calf, which are very similar to those of a human being, we find that they are soft and elastic to the touch, giving out when pressed a peculiar whizzing sound. we may increase their volume by blowing into them through the windpipe, so as to make them double their original size, and then tie up the windpipe. on re-opening the windpipe the air escapes, and the lungs are gradually reduced to their former bulk. now, by drawing a deep breath we produce the same result in ourselves as by blowing into the lungs of the calf; by holding the breath we produce the same result as by tying up the windpipe--that is to say, we keep the lungs in a state of expansion; and by releasing the breath we are, as it were, untying the windpipe, leaving the lungs to dwindle down gradually to their former size. there is one very material point, however, in which the analogy ceases. it is this: we keep the air in the inflated calf's lungs by tying up the windpipe, and the corresponding act in ourselves would be to hold our breath by muscular contraction of the outlet in the throat. this is precisely what we do in straining, and in lifting heavy weights, &c.; but it should _never_ be done in breathing for vocal purposes. here it must, on the contrary, be our endeavour to train, to the highest possible degree, the powerful muscles of the chest and of the abdomen, instead of throwing the labour intended for them upon the comparatively weak and delicate muscles governing the outlet of the windpipe. to make the way in which respiration is carried on clearer still, i quote the following interesting and lucid account from huxley's "elementary physiology," fourth edition, p. . he compares the breathing apparatus to "a sort of bellows without a valve," in which the chest and the lungs represent the body of the bellows, while the windpipe is the pipe; "and the effect of the respiratory movement is just the same as that of the approximation and separation of the handles of the bellows, which drive out and draw in the air through the pipe. there is, however, one difference between the bellows and the respiratory apparatus, of great importance in the theory of respiration, though frequently overlooked, and that is, that the sides of the bellows can be brought close together so as to force out all, or nearly all, the air which they contain, while the walls of the chest, when approximated as much as possible, still enclose a very considerable cavity; so that even after the most violent expiratory effort, a very large quantity of air is left in the lungs." =respiration=, consequently, consists of two acts--namely, inspiration and expiration. inspiration may be produced in three different ways--( ) by pushing the chest forward and flattening the midriff, so as to compel the lungs to _descend_ and to increase in volume in order to fill the empty space created by this movement; ( ) by extending the ribs _sideways_; and ( ) by _drawing up_ the upper parts of the chest--namely, the collar bones (pl. iii, c c) and the shoulder blades. in scientific works the first is called diaphragmatic or abdominal,[b] the second lateral or costal, and the third clavicular or scapular breathing. as, however, these terms convey no meaning to the general reader, i prefer to speak of--( ) midriff breathing; ( ) rib breathing; ( ) collar-bone breathing. in taking a full, deep inspiration, midriff breathing and rib breathing take place almost together and assist each other--that is to say, the midriff contracts and flattens, and immediately afterwards the ribs extend sideways; with this difference, however, that in men the action of the midriff takes a larger share in the work than the ribs, while in woman, on the contrary, the movement of the ribs is greater than that of the midriff. by way of illustrating this curious difference of breathing in men and women, the following anecdote, which has the recommendation of being strictly true, may perhaps amuse the reader. some time ago a troupe of "female minstrels," calling themselves, i believe, "the american amazons," made a tour through this country. their faces were blackened in the orthodox fashion, and they were in male attire, wearing tight-fitting garments of a peculiar kind. two friends, both medical men, went to hear them (or perhaps to see them, i am not sure which), when mr. a remarked that two of the performers were men. mr. b did not see it, even when the individuals were pointed out to him, and asked his friend for the reasons for his opinion. "why," said mr. a, "i see it by their abdominal breathing!" and sure enough mr. b now saw it too, and there was no mistake about it; for in the two suspected individuals the abdomen was evidently moving in respiration, while in all the others no movement was perceptible excepting that of their chests. [illustration: plate iv. diagrams illustrating the varying capacity of the chest, according to the method in which the lung is inflated. from mr. lennox browne's "medical hints on the production and management of the singing voice," by permission of messrs chappell and co. the front outline a of the shaded figure represents the chest after full expiration; the black continuous line a gives the increase in size of the chest, and the descent of the diaphragm, indicated by the curved transverse lines, in full abdominal respiration. the dotted line c shows the retraction of the diaphragm and of the abdominal muscles in forced clavicular inspiration. the varying thickness of the line b indicates the fact of healthy breathing in a man being more abdominal than in woman. the outlines of forced inspiration in both sexes are remarkably similar. ] the combined forms of midriff and rib breathing are the right method of inspiration, while collar-bone breathing is absolutely wrong, and should never be made use of. the reasons of this are not far to seek. the lower part of each lung is large and broad, while the upper part is cone-shaped, and very much smaller. it is self-evident, therefore, that by downward and sideways expansion (enlarging the _lower_ part of the lungs) you will inhale a much greater quantity of air than by drawing up the collar-bones. this consideration alone should suffice to prove the utter falseness of collar-bone breathing. collar-bone breathing has also the additional disadvantage of causing much fatigue, because all the parts surrounding the upper region of the lungs are hard and unyielding, so that a great amount of resistance has to be overcome (the "_lutte vocale_" of french authors), while the very opposite is the case with the lower part of the lungs. mr. lennox browne, who was, i believe, the first to direct the attention of english readers to this matter, says,[c] "clavicular [collar-bone] breathing is a method of respiration totally vicious, and to be avoided. by it the whole lower part of the chest is flattened and drawn in, instead of being distended; consequently the lower or larger part of the lungs is not inflated. it is a method never exercised by nature in a state of health, but only when, from disease, either the abdominal or chest muscles cannot act; and it is the method least efficacious in filling, as it is the one calculated to most fatigue the chest; for it compresses the vessels and nerves of the throat, and this leads to engorgement and spasmodic action of the muscles." we may well pause here and give another moment to the consideration of this most important subject. the lungs, as we have seen, are the bellows of our vocal organ; they supply the air which is the motive power on which the voice depends. without air no tone can be produced. nay, more, life itself must cease without it. breathing goes on regularly while the voice is silent; but in speaking and singing both inspiration and expiration have to be regulated according to the nature of the phrases to be spoken or sung. if the speaker does not know how to take breath and how to control the expiration, his delivery will of necessity be jerky and uncertain. but in the singer it is even more important that he should be able to fill his lungs well, and, having done this, to have absolute command over his expiration; because while the speaker can arrange his sentences, his speed, and his breathing-places very much at his own pleasure, the singer is bound by the music before him. it must, therefore, be his aim to cultivate a proper method of breathing with the object of first getting, with the least possible fatigue, the largest possible amount of air in the most scrupulously careful manner, so as to prevent even the smallest fraction of it from being wasted. yet how seldom is breathing systematically practised as an indispensable preliminary to the production of tone! i have no hesitation in saying that the subject is, in many instances, dismissed with a few general observations. pupils, of course, take breath somehow, and teachers are glad to leave this uninteresting part of the business, and to proceed to the cultivation of the voice. it may be as well to add that what has been said so far about right and wrong methods of breathing is not by any means mere theory, but that any one can convince himself of the truth of the rules laid down by making a few experiments with the spirometer, an instrument for measuring the breathing power of the chest by indicating on a dial the exact number of cubic inches of air expelled from the lungs. this breathing power will be found to vary according to the way in which the inspiration has been accomplished. in my own case, for instance, the spirometer should register, according to the table of comparative height and breathing power compiled by john hutchinson, cubic inches. having suffered from severe attacks of bleeding from the lungs, my maximum with midriff and rib breathing is only , but with collar-bone breathing i barely reach ! during the summer session of the tonic sol-fa college i carefully tested the breathing capacity of ten students, and found that there was an average excess of midriff and rib breathing over collar-bone breathing to the extent of cubic inches: the least amount of their increased power was cubic inches, and the greatest was ! i imagine that these figures are more eloquent than any words, and i think it superfluous to make any further comment on them. i am strongly of opinion that breathing exercises, especially in the case of intending public singers, should always be carried on with a spirometer,[d] because that instrument enables us with the greatest accuracy to check results which otherwise can only be guessed at. if this suggestion were acted upon we should certainly no longer be distressed by that intolerable and never-ceasing tremolo which now so frequently mars many, in other respects, fine voices. it is a curious, and at first sight unaccountable, circumstance that this great fault is specially noticeable amongst french singers. but at the conservatoire de musique in paris students are deliberately taught the wrong method of inspiration; for, as we gather from the "méthode de chant du conservatoire de musique," they are told to "flatten [or draw in] the abdomen" and to "bulge out the chest." thus the mystery is at once cleared up, because the tremolo arises almost invariably from a weakness of the muscles of the midriff or diaphragm, to which attention has already been called in these pages. owing to the abdomen being drawn in, the midriff never properly contracts; the muscles are not sufficiently exercised, and consequently have not power enough to resist the pressure that is brought to bear upon them in singing. they tremble, and this trembling being communicated to the lungs, which are resting upon them, the stream of air they give forth, loses its evenness and continuity, with the result i have just stated. it will be seen from the above explanation that this tremolo, one of the greatest vices besetting modern singing, and which has hitherto been held by many to be incurable, may be got rid of completely, though perhaps not very quickly, by the simple remedy of lung gymnastics on the right principle. the tremolo may certainly also arise from weakness of some muscles in the voicebox or larynx, by which the tension of the vocal ligaments is diminished and increased in rapid alternation. but this is a case for a medical man, which does not fall within my province to discuss, though i am justified in saying, on the authority of mr. lennox browne,[e] that even in many of these cases the effect is clearly attributable to faulty breathing, since there is seldom any local disease of the larynx; while exercise on a right method of breathing will cure the spasmodic action of the laryngeal muscles with but little or no medical treatment. * * * * * i need scarcely add that there is yet another kind of tremolo, which, being absolutely under the control of the performer, is one of the chief ornaments of song, and to which the observations just made in no way apply. * * * * * in addition to the involuntary tremolo there are a number of other afflictions, "clergymen's sore throat" amongst them, which are admitted by eminent medical authorities to be due to collar-bone breathing, and which may be entirely cured by proper lung gymnastics, or, in other words, by breathing exercises on the right principle; that is to say, by calling into play the muscles of the abdomen and of the lower part of the chest. this is a subject which is little understood by singers and public speakers, many of whom would be amazed at the sometimes most wonderful results produced by such simple means. i will therefore quote a case in point which came under my notice quite recently, and which will give the reader an idea of the importance of proper breathing: mr. x, a tall thin young man, engaged in evangelistic work, suffered from a "weakness of voice," which he found a great hindrance to his success. he therefore consulted mr. lennox browne, who at once told him that he had no disease of any kind, and sent him to me for a course of breathing exercises. i found that mr. x chiefly spoke in a child's voice, over which, moreover, he had very little control; and when i requested him to take a deep inspiration, he drew in his abdomen, bulged out his chest, and raised his collar-bones. the spirometer only registered cubic inches instead of , which, according to hutchinson's table, was his mean. my course was, therefore, plain. i made him stand in an easy natural position, neither allowing him to bulge out his chest, nor to draw in the abdomen, and then instructed him how to acquire some control over his midriff and the lower muscles of the chest. it may be observed here, in passing, that we can, in a state of health, contract and relax these muscles at will, just as easily as we can bend a finger, and that this power, when lost through disuse, can be regained with little difficulty. in mr. x's case this process was particularly speedy, with the result of increasing his breathing power in two lessons by cubic inches. in one additional week i could dismiss him with a full sonorous man's voice, in place of the uncertain child's squeak with which he came to me. it is no exaggeration to say that this young man left me with a _new_ voice, and if people had heard him when he first came to me, behind a screen, and again after the last lesson, they would certainly not have believed that they were listening to the same person. what mr. x and his friends think of his case may be seen from the following letter which he wrote me on july th, :--"now that a week has passed since the last lesson i had from you, i write to bear testimony to the wonderful benefit to my voice obtained through the very short course i took. my friends are quite astonished at the marked difference, and i beg you will accept my most sincere thanks," &c. many similar cases might be mentioned, but the one just quoted is sufficient, and i will sum the matter up with a few remarks which mr. lennox browne made as chairman at my lecture at the aldersgate street literary institution, on october th, . he then said that, in his medical experience, he found that persons who suffered from their voices generally owed their ailments to bad habits of using the voice, and not to any defect in the larynx or resonance chamber. in several cases lately he had sent such patients to herr behnke, who had given them lessons in correct breathing, and who had thereby, and without any medicine, galvanism, or other aid, restored their voices in a remarkably short time. from what has been said above about midriff and rib breathing _versus_ collar-bone breathing, the folly of tight-lacing, or, indeed, of in any way interfering with the freedom of the waist, will be at once apparent. we pride ourselves upon our civilization; we make a boast of living in the age of science; physiology is now taught, or at least talked of, in almost every school; the laws of health are proclaimed in lectures and lessons innumerable all over the country, and we laugh at barbarous customs of other nations, such, for instance, as that of chinese women preventing the growth of their feet by forcing them into boots of only half their proper size. and yet our ladies wear instruments of torture called corsets, altering the shape of their bodies, and positively driving the lower ribs _into the lungs_! now which folly is the greater--that of doubling up the toes, or of crippling the body in its most vital parts? let ladies answer the question, and let them further most solemnly consider that the girls of to-day are the mothers of to-morrow, and that upon the measure of their own health and strength depends the well-being of coming generations. it is only fair to add, that if the practice of interfering with the freedom of the waist is reprehensible in the case of ladies, it is, in one sense, still more so in the case of the male sex, because, as has been shown before, men depend more for their breathing upon the action of the abdominal muscle than women. they should, therefore, neither wear tight-fitting vests, nor suspend their pantaloons by means of waistbands, belts, or buckles. loose garments and braces are the proper thing, though the latter are commonly, but erroneously, considered to be injurious. _abdominal_ belts may be worn with advantage by persons of either sex requiring their support; but these are very different from stays or waist-bands. i find that an enterprising firm is advertising corsets for gentlemen (!), and a woodcut may be seen in some papers representing a young adonis laced up in regular ladies' fashion, so that, if it were not for his luxurious moustache, one would certainly take the drawing to be meant for a woman. it is almost impossible to imagine that a man could ever make such a fool of himself; on the other hand, it is clear that these advertisements would not continue to appear if they did not bring customers. but these poor creatures do not deserve to be called men, and i am sincerely sorry for them. with regard to the question whether inspiration should take place through the mouth or through the nostrils, i must enter my most decided protest against making it a practice to inhale through the mouth. there are, of course, occasions when this is unavoidable, as, for instance, where the singer has rapidly to take what is called a "half breath." but complete inflation, or, "full breath," is not the work of a moment; it takes time, and must be done gradually, steadily, and without the slightest interruption. this should _always_ be done through the nostrils. the mouth was never intended for breathing, while the nose is specially and admirably adapted for this purpose. not only can the lungs be well and quickly filled through this channel, but it is so cunningly devised that it acts at the same time as a "respirator," both purifying and warming the air before it touches the more delicate parts of the vocal organ. on the other hand, when inhaled through the mouth, the air carries with it, sometimes right into the voicebox, dust and other impurities, and its temperature is not materially altered. the consequence is that the throat and voicebox, when heated by singing or talking, or by hot rooms, are often exposed to cold, raw, and foggy winter air, and serious derangements of the respiratory organs are the natural consequence. if, moreover, this pernicious habit of breathing be once contracted, we shall soon also sleep with open mouths, thus parching our throats, and sowing the seeds of many a serious disorder. on this point i quote a few lines from dr. louis elsberg,[f] professor of laryngology in the university of new york: "the natural mode of quiet breathing is through the nose; mouth-breathing is an acquirement. a new-born infant would choke to death if you closed its nose; it does not immediately know how to get air into the lungs through the mouth until after, by depressing the tongue, you have once made a passage for it." george catlin, the celebrated traveller among american indians, became so thoroughly convinced that the difference between the healthy condition and physical perfection of these people in their primitive state, especially their sound teeth and good lungs, and the deplorable mortality, the numerous diseases and deformities in _civilized_ communities, is mainly due to the habit, common among the latter, of breathing through the mouth, especially during sleep, that he wrote a book entitled "malrespiration and its effects upon the enjoyment and life of man." in this book he says, "if i were to endeavour to bequeath to posterity the most important motto which human language can convey, it should be in three words, 'shut your mouth.' in the social transactions of life this might have its beneficial results as the most friendly cautionary advice, or be received as the grossest of insults; but where i would print and engrave it, in every nursery and on every bedpost in the universe, its meaning could not be mistaken, and obeyed, its importance would soon be realized." he also says, "it is one of the misfortunes of civilization that it has too many amusing and exciting things for the mouth to say, and too many delicious things for it to taste, to allow of its being closed during the day. the mouth therefore has too little reserve for the protection of its natural purity of expression, and too much exposure for the protection of its garniture; but, _do keep your mouth shut_ when you _read_, when you _write_, when you _listen_, when you _are in pain_, when you are _walking_, when you are _running_, when you are _riding_, and _by all means when you are angry_! there is _no person_ but who will find and acknowledge _improvement_ in _health_ and _enjoyment_ from even a temporary attention to this advice." again he says, "there is a proverb, as old and unchangeable as their hills, amongst north american indians, 'my son, if thou wouldst be wise, open first thy eyes; thy ears next, and last of all thy mouth, that thy words may be words of wisdom, and give no advantage to thine adversary.' this might be adopted with good effect in _civilized_ life; he who would _strictly adhere_ to it would be sure to reap its benefits in his _waking_ hours, and would _soon find_ the habit running into his hours of _rest_, into which he would _calmly_ enter; dismissing the nervous anxieties of the day, as he firmly closed his teeth and his lips, only to be opened _after_ his eyes and his ears in the morning, the rest of _such_ sleep would bear him daily and hourly proof of its value." catlin regards the habit of sleeping with the mouth open the most pernicious of _all bad habits_. the horrors of nightmare and snoring are, according to him, but the _least_ of its evil effects. he thinks "for the greater portion of the thousands and tens of thousands of persons suffering with weakness of lungs, with bronchitis, asthma, indigestion, and other affections of the digestive and respiratory organs," the correction of this habit is a _panacea_ for their ills! he insists that "_mothers_ should be looked to as the first and principal _correctors_ of this most destructive of human habits; ... and the united and simultaneous efforts of the civilized world should be exerted in the overthrow of a monster so destructive to the good looks and life of man. every physician should advise his patients, and every boarding-school in existence and every hospital should have its surgeon or matron, and every regiment its officer, to make their nightly and hourly 'rounds,' to force a _stop_ to so unnatural, disgusting, and dangerous a habit! under the working of such a system, mothers guarding and helping the helpless, schoolmasters their scholars, hospital surgeons their patients, generals their soldiers, and the rest of the world protecting themselves, a few years would show the glorious results in the bills of mortality, and the next generation would be a _regeneration_ of the human race." =the windpipe= (pl. i, w).--having examined the bellows of our vocal organ, we next notice the windpipe, by means of which the air is carried into and out of the lungs. it is an elastic tube kept open by or rings which do not quite meet at the back. it enters the lungs by means of two smaller tubes, which in their turn branch out very much like the roots of a tree, until their ramifications end in the microscopic cells of the lungs. the windpipe is capable of being slightly elongated or shortened, and narrowed or widened, and its interior is covered with a mucous membrane, which, as its name implies, is continually kept in a moist state. =the voicebox, or larynx= (pl. v) may be described as resembling a funnel, the upper part of which has been bent into a triangular shape. its front corner (pl. v, ) may be both seen and felt in the throat, and the general position of the voicebox is thereby at once indicated. the framework of the voicebox consists of five parts. st. the ring cartilage (pl. v, ) is so named on account of its general resemblance to a signet ring. it is narrow in front, and has the part corresponding to the seal behind; the upper border (pl. v, , ) rises very considerably towards the back, where it is about an inch high. nd. riding upon this, as it were, with its hollow part towards the back, is the shield cartilage (pl. v, ), which consists of two plates united in front at an angle which forms the prominence referred to just now as that corner of the triangular funnel (pl. v, ) which may be both seen and felt in the throat, and which is commonly called the adam's apple. it protects the interior and more delicate parts of the voice apparatus, from which circumstance it derives its name of shield cartilage. the plates of the shield have each at the back two horns, the upper and the lower. with the upper horns (pl. vi, , ) the shield cartilage is attached by means of bands (pl. vi, , ) to the corresponding projections (pl. vi, , ) of the tongue-bone (pl. vi, ), which has the shape of a horseshoe. with the lower horns (pl. v, ), of which on our diagram we can only see one, it moves upon the ring cartilage as upon a hinge (pl. v, ). [illustration: plate v. side view of the voicebox, or larynx. . front corner of the voicebox (larynx). . ring (cricoid) cartilage. , . upper border of the ring. . shield (thyroid) cartilage. , . upper horns of the shield. . right lower horn of the shield. . point where the shield moves upon the ring. . ring-shield (crico-thyroid) aperture covered by membrane. . lid (epiglottis). . windpipe (trachea). ] [illustration: plate vi. front view of the voicebox, or larynx. , . upper horns of the shield. . tongue (hyoid) bone. , . horns of the tongue-bone. , . bands uniting the shield with the tongue-bone. , . lid. , . plates of the shield. . ring. . elastic band uniting the shield with the ring. . windpipe. ] this is a very particular point, and i beg the reader particularly to notice that if the shield cartilage (pl. v, ) were gradually drawn downwards and forwards, the space which we now see between the shield and the ring (pl. v, ) would get smaller and smaller, until at last it quite disappeared; and the distance between the front of the shield (pl. v, ) and the highest part of the back of the ring (pl. v, ) would be increased. i may observe here that authorities differ as to whether the shield moves upon the ring, or the ring upon the shield, and that some maintain the one is drawn down while the other is tipped upward. it is sufficient for our purpose, however, that a movement as upon a hinge takes place, whereby, as explained just now, the distance between the front of the shield and the highest part of the back of the ring is increased. rd. =the lid= (pl. v, ) is an elastic cartilage which serves to close the voicebox in the act of swallowing, in order to protect it against any intruding foreign substances. the food we take has to pass over it, and it sometimes happens, when the lid has not been pulled down tight enough, that a particle of food enters the voicebox, in which case we say it has "gone the wrong way," and there is then no peace until the intruder has been got rid of, generally by a violent fit of coughing. the lid, it is true, is not the only means of protection which the voicebox possesses. professor c. j. eberth, for instance, mentions (archiv für pathol: anatomie, vol. lxiii., p. , berlin, ) the case of a woman who, upon dissection, was found to be entirely without the free upper part of the lid, which could alone cover the voicebox. she had never experienced any difficulty in swallowing, and it is therefore clear that with her the closing of some of the parts immediately below was sufficient to prevent the food from getting into the voicebox. but "the exception proves the rule," and in spite of this and other similar cases, the fact remains that the lid is obviously the first and most natural protector of the voicebox. th and th. we have thus far become acquainted with three cartilages out of the five. let us now remove one plate of the shield, as though cutting it off with a knife (pl. vii, and ), in order that we may look inside and see the remaining two cartilages which have hitherto been hidden by it. these are-- =the pyramids= (pl. vii, and ), so called because of their shape. their bases are triangular and hollowed out; their sides taper upwards and terminate in points which are bent slightly backwards, and they have each two projections, one pointing forwards (pl. vii, ) and the other outwards and backwards (pl. vii, ). it will be convenient to have a special name for the projections pointing outwards and backwards, which we will therefore call the levers. the pyramids are attached with their hollow bases to the borders of the ring (pl. vii, ), and they are capable of executing rotary movements with surprising freedom and rapidity. their inner sides may be made to run parallel or to diverge. in addition to this they can be drawn towards each other, or away from each other, so that their summits may either be widely separated or brought close together. =the vocal ligaments= are two ledges of elastic tissue covered with a very delicate membrane. each one of them is connected along its whole length, on one side, with the shield cartilage. the vocal ligaments are attached by their hinder ends to those little projections of the pyramids which point forwards (pl. vii, , ), and by their front ends to the centre of the shield (pl. vii, ), where the two plates meet under a more or less acute angle. [illustration: plate vii. side view of the voicebox, or larynx, showing the interior of it, the right plate being removed. , . pyramids (arytenoid cartilages). , . front projections of the pyramids. . lever of the right pyramid. . upper border of the ring. , , . vocal ligaments. . lid. . shield. . left upper horn of the shield. . ring. . windpipe. ] these vocal ligaments are generally called the vocal cords, but this term is misleading, as it implies strings like those, for instance, of the violin, which are attached only at either end and are free at every other point. this, however, as we have just seen, is not the case, the "cords" being free only along their inner edges. the name "vocal bands," which german physiologists have substituted for "vocal cords," does not mend the matter, as it is open to exactly the same objections. the term "vocal lips," also used by some writers, is, in my judgment, the most unfortunate of all, because it conveys a totally wrong idea of these parts, as will be seen from a description in another chapter of their movements in the act of singing. i have, therefore, sought for a word which, as a proper description of the thing it is to designate, shall always call a correct image to the reader's mind, and as i cannot find a better one than "ligament," i have adopted it. i shall consequently in these pages always speak of the tone-producing element as the "vocal ligaments." the vocal ligaments, having met, are struck by the air blown against them from below, and being elastic they yield, allowing themselves to be forced upwards. a little air is thereby set free, and the pressure from below diminished, in consequence of which the vocal ligaments resume their former position, and even move a little more downwards. the renewed pressure of the air once more overcomes the resistance of the vocal ligaments, which again recede as soon as another escape of air has taken place, and this process is repeated in rapid and regular succession. in this manner, and in this manner alone, is vocal tone produced, whether it be called chest, falsetto, head, or by any other name. there are still some writers who teach a different doctrine. for instance, miss sabilla novello, in her "voice and vocal art," embodied in the "collegiate vocal tutor," published by novello, ewer, and co., says on p. , that "the head voice results from the upper [_i.e._, the false] vocal cords" (these we shall see presently), and on page , that the falsetto tones "are created principally by the action of the trachea [windpipe] and not by that of the vocal ligaments." another writer, mr. rumney illingworth, in a paper "on the larynx and its physiology," read before the royal medical society of edinburgh, on march rd, , and communicated to "the students' journal and hospital gazette" (vol. iv., no. , p. ), says that "the falsetto voice is produced by the laryngeal sacculi [the pockets of the voicebox, which will be described further on] acting in the same way as a hazel-nut can be made to act as a whistle, when the kernel has been extracted through a small hole in the shell; or as part of the cavity of the mouth acts in whistling." i shall refer to these theories again as the opportunity for their proper discussion arises; for the present i will quote a few authorities on the subject. dr. carpenter, in his "human physiology," eighth edition, page , says, "the true theory of the voice may now be considered as well established in regard to this essential particular that the sound is the result of the vibrations of the vocal cords," &c. professor marshall, in his "outlines of physiology," page , says: "experiments on living animals show that the vocal cords are alone the essential organs for the production of voice, for so long as these remain untouched, although all the other parts in the interior of the larynx be destroyed, the animal is able to emit vocal sounds.... the existence of an opening in the larynx of a living animal, or of man, _above_ the glottis [glottis means the vibrating element of the voicebox] in no way prevents the formation of vocal sound; such an opening if situated in the trachea [windpipe] causes total loss of voice, but by simply closing it, vocal sounds can again be produced. such openings, in man, are met with, either as the results of accidents, of suicidal attempts, or of operations performed on the larynx or trachea for the relief of disease." dr. tobold, professor in the university of berlin, in his "laryngoscopie and kehlkopf krankheiten" (laryngoscopy and diseases of the larynx), p. , says, "soft palate, lid, pockets, and pocket-bands are not directly active in the production of either chest or falsetto tones; they only modify the tone produced in the glottis." dr. luschka, professor in the university of tubingen, in his great work "der kehlkopf des menschen" (the human larynx), says in the introduction: "only the vocal cords, with the slit they form, have specifically functional signification, in a narrower sense, of a voice apparatus, as the parts of the larynx which lie under and over them have no material and deciding influence on the production of sound." i will bring my quotations to a close with the following, which seeks to prove the contrary. dr. c. b. garrett ("the human voice," j. and j. churchill, london, , p. ) says, "it is recorded that the larynx of a blackbird was removed by severing the windpipe just below it; that the poor 'thing continued to _sing_, though in a feebler tone.' this proves that notes can be formed _behind the instrument_ and before the air reaches it." this argument, however, is of no value, because it so happens that birds have two larynges, one at the bottom and the other at the top of the windpipe. dr. garrett seems not to have been aware of this fact. the vocal ligaments in the adult male are, in a state of rest, about three-quarters of an inch long, and in the female about half an inch. i pointed out before that the vocal ligaments are attached in front to the shield (pl. vii, ) and behind to the pyramids (pl. vii, , ). let it now be borne in mind-- st, that the pyramids, in their turn, are fastened to the upper border of the ring cartilage; and nd, that by drawing the shield downwards and forwards upon the ring, the distance between the upper border of the ring (pl. vii, ) and the front of the shield (pl. vii, ) is increased, and it will be easily seen that this movement must of necessity have the effect of stretching the vocal ligaments. this drawing of the shield downwards and forwards upon the ring is brought about by a pair of muscles ascending on either side, in the shape of a fan, from the ring to the shield cartilage (pl. viii, , ). these muscles we name the "ring-shield muscles." in opposition to them there is another pair inside the shield, running parallel with the vocal ligaments (pl. ix, , , ). they are attached (like the vocal ligaments) in front to the shield cartilage and behind to the pyramids. these muscles we will call the "shield-pyramid muscles." they counteract the ring-shield muscles, and having overcome their resistance, pull the shield cartilage up again, thereby, of course, relaxing the vocal ligaments. the ring-shield muscles, therefore, _stretch_ the vocal ligaments and the shield-pyramid muscles _relax_ them. the shield-pyramid muscles have an additional function--that of pressing together the vocal ligaments, under certain circumstances, thereby narrowing the opening between them. they have therefore been, in these later days, called the sphincter[g] muscle of the glottis. they have also been called the vocal muscles, since they play so important a part in the formation of all vocal tone that a paralysis of them causes total loss of voice. [illustration: plate viii. side view of the voicebox, or larynx. , . ring-shield muscle (crico-thyroideus). . lid. . shield. , . upper horns of the shield. . ring. . windpipe. ] [illustration: plate ix. side view of the voicebox, or larynx, showing the interior of the left half. , , . shield-pyramid muscle (thyro-arytenoideus). , . ring-pyramid muscle (crico-arytenoideus). . shield. . left upper horn. . pyramid. . ring. . windpipe. ] it may be observed here that it is impossible to imitate, in the dead subject, the contraction of the vocal muscles. all conclusions, therefore, drawn from experiments upon exsected larynges, with regard to tone-production in living man are necessarily quite untrustworthy, and cannot for one moment be admitted as evidence against observations made upon singers with the laryngoscope. these two pairs of muscles, then, namely the ring-shield muscles (pl. viii, , ) and the shield-pyramid muscles (pl. ix, , , ) by stretching, slackening, and compressing the vocal ligaments, mainly govern the pitch of the tones produced by their vibrations. the ring-shield muscles receive some assistance in stretching the vocal ligaments from another quarter, of which we shall speak later on. we have now had a look at the vocal ligaments, and we have seen by what means they are put on the stretch. as, however, in a state of repose these ligaments diverge behind, they must be brought parallel to each other before they are ready for the production of sound. let us, therefore, in order to explain how this is done, imagine that we have cut off that part of the pyramids which is standing out above the vocal ligaments (pl. vii), and let us now have a look at these parts from above. you see the ligaments (pl. xa, , ), a section of the pyramids (pl. xa, , ), and uniting these an elastic band (pl. xa, ). the space between these parts is commonly called the glottis, but as this appellation belongs more properly to the vocal ligaments, it is manifestly wrong to give the same name to the _space_ which they inclose. this space should be distinguished as the "_chink_ of the glottis" or the "vocal chink." i have been blamed for making this distinction in the face of almost universal usage. but i can point to the great anatomist professor luschka as having set the example, and while it is true that in most physiological works "glottis" is used for the _slit_ between the vocal ligaments, yet the appellations "rima glottidis" and "aperture of the glottis" are also employed for the same thing. medical men, moreover, speak of "spasm of the glottis," and singing masters of the "shock of the glottis," which terms are clearly quite meaningless when applied to a space. dr. garrett says, on page of the book quoted before, that "the upper portion of the larynx above the false vocal cords is termed the glottis." he might as well say, "the upper portion of the face above the nose is termed the mouth." i really should not notice so astounding a statement were it not made by one signing himself an m.d., and published by so eminent a firm of medical publishers as messrs. j. and a. churchill. [illustration: plate x. a. glottis in repose. b. glottis in respiration. c. glottis in the production of sound. a. , . vocal ligaments. , . section of the pyramids. . elastic band. , . levers of the pyramids. ] on plate xi you see all parts in a state of rest. to the levers of the pyramids (pl. xi, , ) a pair of muscles is attached, the bases of which are fixed upon the back of the ring cartilage below (pl. xi, , , ). the action of these "back ring-pyramid muscles" (pl. xi, , and , ) is to contract as soon as we take breath, thereby drawing together the pyramids _behind_ and separating them _in front_, at the same time stretching the elastic band behind (pl. x, a, ). by this movement the chink of the glottis is thrown _wide open_ into the shape depicted on pl. x, b. during expiration these relax, the elastic band contracts, and the vocal chink resumes the shape as on pl. xi. these movements go on from the beginning of our lives to the end, whether we are asleep or awake, with more or less vigour, according as we take a slight or a deep inspiration. the back ring-pyramid muscles (pl. xi, , and , ), have consequently the all-important function of keeping open the gate through which the air we breathe enters the lungs. they have, therefore, been poetically called the "guardians of the portal of life." by their action of pulling the pyramids backwards, they also assist the ring-shield muscles (pl. viii, , ) in stretching the vocal ligaments. * * * * * in opposition to these "opening muscles" there is another pair rising from the side borders of the ring (pl. xi, , ) which are fastened to the front part of the levers of the pyramids (pl. xi, , ), serving to draw together their front projections to which the vocal ligaments are attached, and which are thereby brought parallel with each other. [illustration: plate xi. view of a section of the voicebox, or larynx, from above. , . section of the pyramids with vocal ligaments and elastic band. , , . ring. . pyramid muscle (arytenoideus transversus). , , . shield. . bands by means of which the pyramids are attached to the ring. & . back ring-pyramid muscles (posterior crico-arytenoidei). , & , . side ring-pyramid muscles (lateral crico-arytenoidei). note.--the shield-pyramid muscles (thyro-arytenoidei) which run parallel with the vocal ligaments are, for the sake of clearness, omitted from this diagram.] these "side ring-pyramid muscles" (pl. xi, , and , ; see also pl. ix, , ) are assisted by a single muscle uniting the pyramids behind the elastic band which we have already noticed. this muscle we will call the "pyramid muscle" (pl. xi, ). by the united action of the muscles which have just been described the vocal chink is thrown in the shape shown on pl. x, c, and the vocal ligaments are now in a proper position for the production of tone. * * * * * before proceeding any farther it will be well if we once more glance at the muscles with which we have become acquainted, so that we may be quite sure about their functions. muscles: i. governing the shape of the vocal chink. the back ring-pyramid} opening muscles } the vocal chink. these are opposed by-- the side ring-pyramid } muscles, and the pyramid} closing muscles, assisted by the} the vocal chink. shield-pyramid muscles } ii. governing the pitch of the tones. the ring-shield muscles, } stretching assisted by the back ring-pyramid } muscles } the vocal ligaments. these are opposed by-- the shield-pyramid } slackening muscles } the vocal ligaments. =the pocket ligaments= (called "false vocal cords," pl. xii, and ) are a pair of horizontal projections running above and parallel with the vocal ligaments (pl. xii, and ). the pocket ligaments are, like the vocal ligaments, attached in front to the shield and behind to the pyramids. they may be described as two ledge-shaped pads mainly formed of glands. they are very sensitive and movable, and ready on the smallest incitement to meet with great rapidity in order to protect the vocal ligaments from any harm. they must, therefore, be chiefly regarded as safeguards of the vocal apparatus, though it is probable that by breaking the stream of air passing through the chink of the glottis, they also exercise considerable influence upon the _quality_ of the tone emitted. it may be affirmed, however, without the slightest hesitation, that they have absolutely nothing to do with the _production_ of tone. we shall see these glandular ledges again during our observations upon the living subject, and i shall therefore say no more about them at present. [illustration: plate xii. view of the voicebox, or larynx, which has been cut open from behind. , . pocket ligaments (false vocal cords). , . vocal ligaments (vocal cords). , . shield (thyroid) cartilage. , . cartilages of santorini. . lid (epiglottis). , & , . folds of mucous membrane (aryteno-epiglottic folds). , . wedges (cuneiform cartilages). , . cartilages of wrisberg. , . pyramid muscle (arytenoideus transversus). , . ring (cricoid) cartilage. , . tongue (hyoid) bone. ] the space between the pocket ligaments and the vocal ligaments (pl. xii, , , , ) is the entrance to two pouches or pockets which extend outwards and upwards. the dimensions of these pockets vary very much in different individuals. as a rule their height does not exceed two-fifths of an inch, so that their terminations do not reach the upper borders of the shield cartilage (pl. xii, and ). but there are instances in which the pockets are nearly three-quarters of an inch high, and where such is the case they, as a necessary consequence, reach beyond the shield. sometimes they are so high as nearly to touch the root of the tongue. their outer walls are chiefly formed of loose fatty cellular tissue, and the pockets are almost entirely surrounded by a large number of small glands. now these are the "laryngeal sacculi" which, according to mr. illingworth, produce the falsetto voice by "acting in the same way as a hazel-nut can be made to act as a whistle, when the kernel has been extracted through a small hole in the shell," &c. i think, however, that the reader will, from the description given above, agree with me that the acoustic properties of the pockets of the voicebox cannot be very great, and that, at all events, there is a vast difference between their construction and that of a hazel-nut, either with or without the kernel. then there is this additional difficulty, that even if one could whistle upon the pockets in the manner suggested, there are two of them, covered, let it be remembered, with a multitude of glands, continually producing moisture, and liable to enlarge or to diminish. how, i should like to know, could two such cavities be so tuned as under any circumstances to produce exactly the same tones? would not rather frightful discords be the inevitable result? and again, what provision is there in the pockets for the gradations of pitch? but quite apart from these considerations, this and other similar theories are completely disproved by the fact that every tone which the human voice is capable of producing can be produced by _inspiration as well as by expiration_. the tones sung by inspiration are, as might be expected, wholly devoid of beauty, because the vocal apparatus is, as it were, put upside down, and the position of bellows and resonator reversed. but that does not alter the question. the fact remains, and clearly proves that the pockets have no more to do with the falsetto than with the chest voice, because in inspiration the air strikes the vocal ligaments _after it has passed_ the pockets, and yet the result is, beauty of tone apart, exactly the same. the function of the pockets, in my opinion, is this: they are the means of isolating the vocal ligaments, thus enabling them to vibrate freely and without hindrance. they also allow the sound-waves to expand sideways, thereby materially adding to their resonance. lastly, they with their many little glands produce and supply the vocal ligaments with that moisture without which, according to the investigations of j. müller,[h] the production of tone cannot be carried on. above the pocket ligaments there is a kind of tube which is formed by the upper part of the pyramids (surmounted by two little bodies called the cartilages of santorini, pl. xii, , ) behind; the lid or epiglottis (pl. xii, ) in front, and sideways by two folds of mucous membrane running up from the pyramids to the lid (pl. xii, , and , ). these folds are in many cases supported by two small cartilages, which we will call the wedges (pl. xii, , ). these, according to madame emma seiler, are the chief factors in the formation of the highest register of the female voice. in some physiological works they are treated as of very little consequence, and in others they are not mentioned at all. these wedges are two thin strips of cartilage running in front of the pyramids (pl. xii, and ) where they are embedded in a number of glands. their upper ends terminate in the cartilages of wrisberg (pl. xii, , ), and their lower ends gradually dwindle away in the direction of the vocal ligaments. madame seiler says that they "reach to the middle of the vocal chords, by which they are enveloped."[i] she comments in the same book on the fact that german anatomists have been reluctant to admit the existence of these cartilages; and she adds on page , "it was, therefore, a great satisfaction to me to find them described under the name of the cuneiform cartilages in wilson's 'human anatomy.'" it must be confessed, however, that wilson's description of them is totally different from madame seiler's. he says, "the cuneiform cartilages are two small cylinders of yellow fibro-cartilage, about seven lines in length and enlarged at each extremity. _by the lower end or base_ the cartilage is attached _to the middle of the external surface_ of the arytenoid (the pyramid), and by its upper extremity forms a prominence in the border of the aryteno-epiglottidean fold of membrane"[j] (_i.e._, the fold running up to the lid). according to seiler, therefore, the wedges reach from the pyramids to the middle of the vocal ligaments, but according to wilson their bases are attached to the middle of the outer surface of the pyramids, so that they cannot even touch the vocal ligaments. as madame seiler assigns very important functions to these wedges in the formation of the highest register of the female voice, and as she quotes wilson in a manner that must lead the reader to suppose he gave a similar description to hers of these cartilages, i have thought it right to give wilson's statement in full. but there is a description of these cartilages by dr. witkowski which corresponds very closely with madame seiler's. speaking of some of the glands of the voicebox, he says in the work mentioned before, on p. --"they are arranged in the form of an l, whose vertical branch goes along the arytenoid cartilages (the pyramids), _the horizontal branch following the direction of the vocal cords_. _there is often found situated in the midst of this group of glands the cuneiform cartilage of wrisberg_, sometimes reduced to a mere cartilaginous granule." dr. elsberg also describes them on p. of the treatise before mentioned as "elongated nodules" in the hinder portion of the vocal ligaments, and says they are found "more often in the female than in the male sex." he calls them the "posterior vocal nodules," and gives on p. a diagram which shows them most clearly and unmistakably. this point would therefore seem to be settled. =the resonator.=--we now come to the last part of our instrument, namely, the resonator, which is formed of ( ) the pockets of the larynx; ( ) the tube above the pocket ligaments; ( ) the upper part of the throat; ( ) the mouth; and ( ) the nose. before giving a description of the resonator, it will be necessary to make a few introductory remarks on certain laws of the philosophy of sound, which have been so clearly demonstrated that they admit of no contradiction. =tone=, as we have seen, is the result of rapid periodic vibrations. the =loudness= of tone depends upon the _amplitude_ of the vibrations. this is easily shown by drawing a bow over the string of a violin: while the vibrations of the string are largest, the tone produced is loudest, and as the vibrations get smaller, so the tone becomes fainter. the =pitch= of tone depends upon the _number_ of vibrations in a given period of time. the greater the number of vibrations the higher the pitch, and _vice versâ_. the =quality= of tone depends on the _form_ of the vibrations, "which also determines the occurrence of upper partial tones."[k] now, to make the sound of any tone-producing element more intense, and to give it some special quality, is the work of the resonator. if we simply fix a fiddle string at either end, and, after giving it a certain amount of tension, draw a bow across it, we shall certainly produce a tone, but a very poor and faint one. put the same string with the same amount of tension upon a cheap violin, and the tone will be intensified, and its quality changed, though that quality may be of a very unpleasant kind. repeat the experiment upon an amati or a straduarius, and not only will the tone be more powerful still, but it will also have a full, round, and beautiful quality. something, it is true, depends upon the string and upon the bowing, but we are here supposing the same string and the same player, our object being to show how the _resonator_, which, in this case, is the body of the violin, intensifies the tone of the string, and affects its quality. illustrations exemplifying the same thing might be multiplied to any extent, but the one i have just given will suffice. as with the string, so with the vocal ligaments. cut a larynx out of a dead body, put it in proper position on the top of a bellows, and force the air through it, and you will produce tone, but faint and poor tone. now add a resonator to the larynx, and the tone of the vocal ligaments will be intensified, and its quality altered according to the kind of resonator you make use of. it is clear, therefore, that the human voice does not only depend upon the vibrations of the vocal ligaments, and the corresponding vibrations of the air passing between them, but also upon the resonator as defined on p. . according to the natural formation of our resonator, and according to the infinite variety of shapes which every one has it in his power to give to it, our voices will be, always supposing the conditions of the vocal ligaments to be the same, either full, round, sonorous, and _beautiful_, or they will be poor, cutting, muffled, guttural, nasal, and _ugly_. as we have, or may easily acquire, absolute command over the resonator, or, at least, over the greatest part of it, it is a comfort to know that so very much depends upon it, and i trust my readers will now, with some amount of pleasure, look with me at this part of the vocal apparatus. the st and nd divisions of the resonator--namely, the pockets of the larynx and the tube above the pocket ligaments--have been fully described on pp. , , and no more need be said on the subject here. the upper part of the throat, called in scientific works the "pharynx" (pl. i, p), is a cavity, the largest part of which may be seen through the arch at the back of the open mouth. its hinder wall is formed by the spinal column, and it extends upwards as far as the eustachian tubes (pl. i, e) which communicate with the middle part of the ear. here it joins-- the =cavities of the nose= (pl. i, n), which have for their base the hard and soft palate (pl. i, h and s), and which are divided by a bone partition. the only part of the =mouth= which requires a particular description is the soft palate. this is a movable partition by means of which either the mouth or the nose can be completely separated from the throat. if the nose is to be shut off from the throat the soft palate is _raised_, and pressed against the back of the pharynx. if the mouth is to be shut off the soft palate is _lowered_, and rests closely upon the back of the tongue. this partition plays a most important part in vocalization. in the formation of all pure vowel sounds it is _raised_, thereby closing the nasal cavities, and it has been found that the closure is loosest for "ah" (as in "father") and tightest for "e" (as in "bee"), the intermediate vowels being "a" (as in "name"), "oh" and "oo" (as in "food"). this has been clearly shown by czermak in the following manner. lying down on his back, he had the nasal cavities filled with tepid water. he then uttered the various vowel sounds, and ascertained from the quantity of water required to force open the closure formed by the soft palate the degree of tightness for each vowel. he afterwards constructed a very ingenious little apparatus, by means of which, in one of his lectures, he demonstrated this fact to his audience. it will be easily understood from the above explanation that, if the closure of the nasal cavities is sufficiently imperfect to allow any considerable amount of air to pass through the nose, the result will be a nasal tone. i am aware that the very opposite is taught by some. there are those who maintain that nasal tone arises from the air _not_ being able to get through the nose. i am even informed that in some parts of england where nasal tone seems to be a general affliction, it is the practice of teachers of singing to cause their pupils to bathe their noses in hot water in order to relax the muscles which are supposed by their contraction to produce nasal tone. i would, however, in support of my statement, draw attention to the following indisputable facts:--( ) it is quite possible to completely close the nostrils, and yet to produce pure vocal tone. ( ) persons who are either partly or entirely without the soft palate can _under no circumstances_ utter a single sound without the most pronounced nasal quality. it seems to me that these facts sufficiently speak for themselves; but if any of my readers are not convinced by them, let them try this experiment: take a thin mirror and hold it flat against the upper lip, with the glass upwards. now sing a pure vocal tone, and the mirror will remain perfectly bright. sing, on the contrary, with nasal quality, and the mirror will at once be completely dimmed. this shows conclusively that nasal sound is produced by singing _through_ the nose, and this cannot be done without lowering the soft palate. teachers of singing know well enough that guttural tone is caused by the obstinate arching up of the tongue, and if they understand their business they eventually succeed in teaching a pupil labouring under this disadvantage to get perfect control over his tongue. but nobody thinks of the soft palate, though that can be brought under subjection just as well as the tongue. let singing masters see to it, and young ladies will no longer be laughed at for having to put their noses into hot water before charming their friends with a song. it now only remains to be added that the interior of the windpipe and of the voicebox, as well as that of the throat, the mouth, and the nose, is lined with a thin mucous membrane of a pinkish colour. this concludes my description of the vocal organ as a musical instrument. differences of the voicebox, or larynx, in children, women, and men. the voicebox of a newly-born baby is about one-third the size of that of a grown woman. it is therefore rather large in proportion to other parts of the body, with the exception of the head, which comparatively is larger still. the horizontal outline of the shield cartilage is a very gentle curve, and the upper horns are short, in consequence of which the voicebox is close to the tongue. the wedges, according to merkel, are strongly developed; the vocal ligaments are short and thick, and the pockets deep. up to the third year the voicebox grows very considerably, but no particular alterations take place from that time to the period of puberty, which generally occurs at the age of or , rather earlier in girls than in boys. this period of change lasts from six to twelve months, or sometimes even two or three years. during this time the vocal organs undergo a marked change. in boys, the angle at which the two plates of the shield meet becomes more and more acute, and the length of the vocal ligaments increases only in the proportion of five to ten. in girls, on the other hand, the horizontal outline of the shield does not lose its evenness, and the length of the vocal ligaments increases only in the proportion of five to seven. the cartilages would seem, especially in boys, to grow more rapidly than the muscles, so that the slowly-growing muscles do not, at first, control the newly-developed cartilages. this accounts for the unmanageable state of the voice at this period. the changes which take place in the female voicebox are very imperceptible, so that they do not materially affect the character of the voice. in the male voicebox, on the contrary, the alterations are very marked, and the result is that the high voice of the boy is changed into the tenor or the bass of the man. while, therefore, before the period of puberty the voicebox is materially the same in both sexes, there are, afterwards, considerable differences noticeable, not only with regard to size, but also with regard to shape. this seems, indeed, sufficiently obvious, and any one can see it by simply comparing the outside of the throat of a man with that of a woman. nevertheless we are told by mr. lunn[l] that "anatomy teaches us that there is no difference between the male and female larynx save in size;" and by dr. garrett (on page of the book quoted before) that "the male larynx does not differ anatomically in the least from that of the female, except in size." my readers may judge for themselves whether these statements are borne out by facts or not. it must further be observed that the whole upper part of the shield in the female voicebox is less developed than in the male. the upper horns are short, so that the voicebox is more closely attached to the tongue-bone, and its position in the throat is altogether higher in woman than in man. to show more clearly still the difference in the proportions of the male and the female voicebox, i give below some average measurements (taken from luschka's great work on the larynx) which i have, for the convenience of english readers, reduced, as nearly as possible, from centimetres and millimetres to inches. male. female. height of the voicebox in } - / in. - / in. front, with the lid raised } ( cent.) ( . cent.) greatest width between the } - / in. - / in. plates of the shield cartilage} ( cent.) ( . cent.) depth between the lower } border of the shield cartilage, } - / in. in. and the opposite point } ( cent.) ( . cent.) of the ring cartilage. } length of the vocal chink ... in. / in. ( mm.) ( mm.) according to this eminent anatomist, therefore, the differences between male and female larynges are as follows: in height, / ; in width, / ; in depth, / ; in the length of the vocal chink, / of an inch. as it is plain that if there were "no difference between the male and the female larynx save in size," all their proportions would be alike, i think i may safely assume that i have proved my point, which is a rather important one, as the reader will see when the registers in the male and female voice come up for discussion. we will now consider the question how the various classes of voice--_i.e._, sopranos, contraltos, tenors, and basses--are to be accounted for by corresponding differences in the voicebox. we know that tone is produced by the vibrations of the vocal ligaments. it is clear, therefore, that a voice will be high or low according to the number of vibrations which the ligaments are capable of producing, or in other words, according to their dimensions and their tension. this difference is easily seen by comparing the voicebox of a soprano with that of a bass, because there the proportions are so manifestly smaller in the one than in the other. there are similar distinctions between soprano and contralto on the one hand, and between tenor and bass on the other, but they are not so striking. neither can they, for various reasons, be demonstrated with the laryngoscope; but they exist nevertheless. it is true that the vocal ligaments of a soprano are sometimes longer than those of a contralto, just as the ligaments of a tenor are occasionally longer than those of a bass. but i maintain that the longer ligaments of sopranos and tenors are correspondingly thinner, and that their tension is greater, owing to the ring-shield or stretching muscles being more powerful than their opponents--the shield-pyramid muscles. where this is the case the ligaments are more slanting than they would be otherwise, and the consequence of this is that less power of blast is required to make them speak. with this mechanism the higher registers are very readily united with the lower ones, and the voices so produced are of a light and flexible kind. where, on the contrary, the vocal ligaments of contraltos and basses are comparatively short, they are also thick in proportion, and the shield-pyramid muscles are more powerful than the opposing ring-shield muscles, so that there is less tension. i shall be asked how i can prove this tension theory, and my reply is this: the diameter of the vocal ligaments depends in a large measure on the magnitude of the shield-pyramid muscles. if, therefore, the ligaments are exceptionally thick, the muscles just named must of necessity be very powerful, and can easily resist the pulling of the ring-shield muscles. if, on the contrary, the ligaments are exceptionally thin, it is equally certain that the shield-pyramid muscles are weak in proportion, and then the stretching muscles can easily overcome their resistance. * * * * * i may add that i came to the above conclusions about the various classes of voices years ago, when commencing the study of this subject. not only have i never since seen any reason to alter my views--although i have not failed to notice and carefully examine the theories of others denying my doctrine--but i am more than ever convinced that my explanations are correct. i have now the gratification of seeing my theory confirmed by so great an authority as dr. merkel, of leipzig, who most elaborately explains the subject in his latest work on the larynx, to which i have already alluded in these pages. * * * * * besides the factors enumerated above, there are, no doubt, others which are also of consequence in determining the particular kind of voice to be produced by this vocal apparatus or by that; as, for instance, the windpipe, or the resonator, or both. the capacity of the chest--nay, the structure of the whole body, may have a more or less direct influence upon it. but there are absolutely no statistics to proceed upon, and in the absence of these it is vain to indulge in any speculations on the subject. movements of the voicebox, or larynx, which can be seen or felt. the voicebox in a man is situated almost exactly in the middle of the throat; in woman its position is, for reasons partly explained on page , considerably higher. it moves downwards in inspiration, and upwards in expiration; and the more vigorously we breathe, the more marked are these movements. in the act of swallowing the voicebox rises quickly, and in yawning it goes down so completely that the whole windpipe may vanish into the chest, and even the part of the ring cartilage may disappear. when singing in what is called chest-voice the voicebox rises gradually with each higher tone. changing the mode of tone production, and singing--say an octave higher--in falsetto, the voicebox makes quite a leap upwards, and then again rises gradually with each higher tone, just as in chest-voice, but in a lesser degree. the voicebox, however, does not stand so high for the lowest falsetto as for the highest chest tones. it is possible, of course, to limit these movements to a minimum, but a teacher who insists upon his pupils keeping their voice-boxes perfectly still commits a serious mistake, because it is always injurious to do violence to nature. it is one thing to keep the voicebox steady, thereby facilitating the working of some of those muscles which act immediately upon the vocal ligaments; it is quite another thing, as will be seen below, to attempt to prevent movements which have to serve a great purpose. in _whispering_, the voicebox occupies a different position in the throat for each vowel. i invite the reader to try the following curious experiment. let him take the larynx gently between the thumb and the first finger, and then _whisper_ oo (as in "food,") oh, ah, a (as in "name,") and e (as in "bee"). he will find that the voicebox rises with every succeeding vowel until at last it has completely slipped away from between the finger and thumb. each one of these _whispered_ vowels has, as first ascertained by helmholtz, its exact pitch, whether uttered by a little child or by an old man, and the effect of the rising of the voicebox is to shorten the resonator, whereby the raising of the pitch is produced. i stated on page that the vocal ligaments were capable of being stretched by the ring-shield muscles, and that the pitch of the tones produced by their vibrations depended mainly on their tension. as we are now taking note of such movements of the voicebox as may be either seen or felt in the throat, we will take the opportunity of trying whether my statement can be verified. let the reader, therefore, do as follows:--( ) place the finger on the shield cartilage, and press it vigorously backward. ( ) sing loudly any high tone that is well within your compass. hold this tone steadily, and _be quite sure you do not alter its pitch_. ( ) now suddenly remove your finger, continuing to sing as before. what is the result? your tone is raised by a third, or even more, according to the amount of pressure you exercised on the shield. and how did this result come about? in this way: by pressing the shield backwards you elongated the ring-shield muscles, thereby counteracting their stretching influence, and at the same time slackening the vocal ligaments. the tone you sang while doing this was, we will say c'. by releasing the shield you enabled the ring-shield muscles to contract again, thereby putting the vocal ligaments on the stretch as they were at first. that changed your c' to e', or higher still. have i proved my assertion? now one more test, if you please. i pointed out to you on page an opening between the shield and the ring. you will see it on plate v, no. . please sing a low tone; place your finger gently on the shield, and move it downwards. you will soon discover a little hollow which corresponds with the opening i just mentioned, and into which you can easily put part of the tip of your finger. now sing up the scale, and take care to keep the tip of your finger in the hollow. remember that in singing up the scale your voicebox will rise, which movement you must follow, or you will lose the place. if you do this carefully, you will find that the hollow gets smaller and smaller by degrees until at last it closes entirely, and you can no longer find a trace of it. now sing down again, keeping your finger on the same spot. you will soon notice the hollow again, and it will continue to get larger and larger until you arrive at the bottom of your scale. this, of course, is but another way of showing the mechanism by which the pitch of your tones is raised or lowered, and we have proved the same thing by our preceding experiment. but i asked you to try this chiefly because it will enable you to put a check upon my statements with regard to the registers of the voice, a subject which i propose to discuss in another chapter. the laryngoscope, and how to use it. the laryngoscope in its simplest form is a thin circular mirror, about three-quarters of an inch in diameter, set in a metal frame, and fastened at an angle of ° to a piece of wire from three to four inches long, which is put into a small wooden handle not much thicker than a pencil, and about the same length as the wire. by help of the laryngoscope we can either see our own larynx or that of another person. the easiest experiment is upon the larynx of some one else. in this case, the person to be operated upon sits facing the sun, the head slightly bent backwards, and the mouth wide open. if he has not sufficient control over his tongue to prevent it from arching up, he must gently hold its protruding tip with a pocket handkerchief between his thumb and forefinger. the mirror is now slightly warmed to prevent its becoming dimmed by the moisture of the breath, and then, holding it like a pen, the operator introduces it into the throat so that it touches the uvula. this must be done lightly yet firmly, care being taken not to bring the mirror into contact with the base of the tongue. the rays of the sun falling upon the mirror are reflected downwards into the voicebox, the image of which is clearly visible in the mirror. in making observations upon oneself, a second mirror in the shape of an ordinary hand looking-glass is necessary to reproduce the image in the small mirror. this is the way in which the renowned professor of singing, senor manuel garcia, made those famous "observations on the human voice," communicated to the royal society by dr. sharpey, on may the th, . similar attempts had been made before; for instance, in by babington, in by baumès, in by liston, and in by warden and avery. but they had all ended in failure, an occasional glimpse of some parts of the voicebox being the only result obtained. garcia, however, brilliantly succeeded where all his predecessors had failed, and was the first not only to see the vocal ligaments, but to see them in the act of singing, and to see them so clearly as to be able to give an account of their minutest movements. the instrument has since been greatly improved, and the process of investigation has become a science. medical men all over the world have laid hold of it, and suffering humanity is daily benefited by it. but garcia is the man who produced the first results, and to him, therefore, is due the credit of being practically the inventor of the laryngoscope. it is almost incredible, but it is true, that this splendid invention was received coldly and with distrust in this country, and had it not been for dr. johann n. czermak, professor of physiology at the university of pesth, the matter would, in all probability, have been forgotten. but this gentleman recognized the value of garcia's invention, and he at once went enthusiastically to work, and pushed on vigorously in the way which garcia had opened for him. he constructed an apparatus which enabled him, by making use of artificial light, to work without interruption and without waiting for the sun to shine. he then made his first attempts on himself in order to become acquainted with the conditions which have to be fulfilled by the observer as well as by the person to be operated upon. in this way he soon became a master of the new process, which he immediately brought under the notice of the profession by giving lectures and demonstrations in the chief towns of europe. more than twenty years have passed since then, and the laryngoscope has, during that time, been made excellent use of, not only for the alleviation of suffering, and the cure of disease, but also for its original purpose--_i.e._, the exploration of the mechanism of the human voice. my own connection with the matter has arisen through my desire to sift contradictory statements made by various observers. having read many english, german, and french books on the subject, i was in position to pick up a hint here, and to get some good advice there, and the consequence was that i was able to pursue a course which made me familiar with the use of the laryngoscope in a very short time. as my experience may be useful to others, i will briefly relate how i proceeded. i made my first attempts upon a skull, to which i attached a plaster-of-paris model of the voicebox, the whole being fastened to an iron stand. the instrument i used was a concave reflector on a spectacle frame. the reflector had a hole in the centre, and was capable of being moved in various directions. the next thing was the little mirror described on page , and lastly, a gas lamp on the principle of the well-known "queen's" reading lamps, which can be raised or lowered at pleasure. i placed the skull to the left of the lamp, and looking with my right eye through the hole in the centre of the reflector, practised throwing the light swiftly and with certainty into the upper part of the throat. i then introduced the little spy mirror, and tried to see and to recognize the various parts of the voicebox, which, let it be remembered, present a somewhat different appearance in the looking-glass from what they do if seen without it. then i got a friend to mark my artificial voicebox, unknown to me, in various ways, and endeavoured quickly to discover what he had done. in this way i soon acquired a considerable amount of skill in handling the instrument, and also became thoroughly familiar with the image of the voicebox in the mirror.[m] having thus to a large extent mastered the mechanical part of my work, i proceeded to make observations upon myself. i placed to the left of the lamp an ordinary bedroom looking-glass, in which now appeared my own face instead of the skull which hitherto occupied this place. i opened my mouth, and by the help of the reflector directed the light into the image of it in the looking-glass. i then continued in every way as i had done with the skull, with this difference, however, that i had first, as pointed out before, to warm the little spy mirror in order to prevent its becoming dimmed in the throat. an instrument has since been designed by the late dr. g. d. foulis, of glasgow, which for simplicity, general excellence, and cheapness, far surpasses the above contrivance, and which i strongly recommend to intending students of laryngoscopy. it consists of a plain stand on which is placed a glass globe filled with water, the whole being surmounted by a small square mirror. the rays from a lamp or candle, placed behind the globe, are concentrated into the open mouth of the observer, who is seated in front of it, enabling him, by the use of an ordinary throat mirror, to inspect the movements of his own vocal ligaments. [illustration] this apparatus, as shown in the annexed drawing, including a throat mirror, and safely packed for transmission, may be had from messrs. w. b. hilliard & sons, , renfield street, glasgow, for the very small sum of s. d. let not the reader who tries laryngoscopic investigations be discouraged if, at first, violent retching is the result. it does not so much arise from sensitiveness of the parts touched, as from awkwardness in introducing the mirror. if he perseveres he will soon be rewarded by a view of the pearly white vocal ligaments, and a little repeated practice upon himself will enable him also to operate upon others without causing them discomfort. i close this chapter by again reminding amateur laryngoscopists that in the vast majority of cases where the touch of the mirror causes retching and gagging, it is due less to the sensitiveness of the person operated upon than to the want of skill on the part of the operator. he should in that case renew his experiments upon himself, and continue them until he has fully mastered the use of the instrument, as it is not fair to make others suffer for his own clumsiness. the teachings of the laryngoscope. on introducing the mirror into the throat we first see the back part of the tongue, which has a very uneven surface, and which is, as a rule, covered with greyish phlegm. we next notice a hollow space between the tongue and the lid, which is divided by an elastic band forming a little bridge between the two. next comes the upper free part of the lid, the shape of which greatly varies in different individuals. it hangs over the voicebox, which it almost completely hides from view; but during the production of a high tone on the vowel a, as in "sad," it takes an almost perpendicular position. when the lid is so raised (pl. xiv, l) we can see right down to the bottom of it, where we observe that it bulges out a little. extending from either side of the lid to the pyramids are two folds of mucous membrane, in the hinder part of either of which are to be observed two little elevations representing the cartilages of santorini (pl. xiv, s s), and the upper points of the wedges, called the cartilages of wrisberg (pl. xiv, w w). looking down the kind of tube which is formed by the parts just enumerated, we next notice two horizontal projections running from front to back, which are the pocket ligaments (pl. xiv, p p). everything we have seen so far is of a pinkish colour. below the pocket ligaments, right at the bottom of the tube described above, we see the main object of our investigation, namely, the vocal ligaments (pl. xiv, v v). these, being almost of a pearly white, form a strong contrast to all their surroundings, and it is quite impossible to mistake them. * * * * * in quiet breathing the vocal chink is of a triangular shape, of which, however, we can only see the hinder part, the front part being hidden by the lid (pl. xiii). in exaggerated efforts at breathing this space gets considerably larger, so that, with a well-directed light, we can see into the windpipe, of which the rings are plainly noticeable. it is even possible to see the lowest part of the windpipe, where it is divided into the two branches entering the lungs. * * * * * for the purpose of studying the movements of the vocal ligaments in the act of singing, the vowel a, as in "sad" will be found the most favourable, because the formation of the mouth, and the position of the tongue which it necessitates, enable us to get a complete view of the interior of the voicebox, which during the emission of other vowel sounds is more or less hidden. mr. lunn objects that all investigations with the laryngoscope are valueless on account of the supposed necessity of holding the tip of the protruding tongue. he says, in a letter to the "orchestra" (january, ): "one of our most promising singers told me he could not rightly produce his voice when under laryngoscopic investigation. it is a moral impossibility for all!" (a physical impossibility would be more to the purpose.) "let the reader pull his tongue out with a napkin as far as he can, and sing, and he will get some notion of the tone producible." there is no foundation for this objection, because if a singer has his tongue under proper control there is not the slightest occasion to put it out and to hold it. as to pulling it out as far as one can, that should not be done under any circumstances, and no man having the slightest knowledge of laryngoscopy would suggest such a ridiculous proceeding. in my own case the vocal ligaments can be seen from one end to the other while i keep my tongue in its natural position, and i am willing to demonstrate this fact to any one who has any doubt in the matter. as soon as we produce a tone, the pyramids, and with them the vocal ligaments, meet, so as to touch each other more or less closely, while there still remains a large space between the pocket ligaments above. every time we take breath, the pyramids with the vocal ligaments recede, to meet again as before, every time we strike a new tone. the vocal ligaments, thrown into vibrations by the stream of air passing between them, cut, as it were, this stream of air into regular waves, and thus (as more fully explained on p. ) tone is produced. we notice here that this tone-production may be originated in three different ways:--( ) the vocal ligaments may meet _after_ the air has commenced to pass between them. of this an aspirate is the result. ( ) the vocal ligaments may meet _before_ the air has commenced to pass between them. this causes a check or a click at the beginning of the tone. ( ) the vocal ligaments may meet just at the very moment when the air passes between them. in this case the tone is properly struck. there is nothing to make it indefinite as in case no. , and nothing to impede it as in case no. . production as in case no. causes the tone to travel much farther than production as in cases nos. i and , and it is this way of striking a tone which is known under the name of "coup de glotte" or "shock of the glottis." "but it is not a shock of the glottis at all," says mr. lunn, on page of the book quoted before. "it is an audible result arising from the false cords [pocket ligaments] releasing condensed air imprisoned below them, which air in its release explodes." i beg leave to observe that condensed imprisoned air thus released could produce a puff, but not a musical tone. the matter is, moreover, capable of being demonstrated to the eye. the process takes place as described above, and i am ready at any moment to show that the pocket ligaments _never_ meet in singing. there can, therefore, be no possibility of condensed air being imprisoned below them, and we need not enter into any further argument on the subject. [illustration: plate xiii. laryngoscopic image. breathing. t. tongue. l. lid. v. v. vocal ligaments. w. w. cartilages of wrisberg. s. s. cartilages of santorini. ] [illustration: plate xiv. laryngoscopic image. upper thick. t. t. tongue. l. lid. p. p. pocket ligaments. v. v. vocal ligaments. w. w. cartilages of wrisberg. s. s. cartilages of santorini. ] [illustration: plate xv. laryngoscopic image. upper thin. t. t. tongue. l. lid. p. p. pocket ligaments. v. v. vocal ligaments. w. w. cartilages of wrisberg. s. s. cartilages of santorini. ] [illustration: plate xvi. laryngoscopic image. small. t. t. tongue. l. lid. p. p. pocket ligaments. v. v. vocal ligaments. w. w. cartilages of wrisberg. s. s. cartilages of santorini. ] we now proceed to study the registers of the human voice. a very babel of confusion exists on this important subject, and we are not only perplexed by a multiplicity of terms, but also by the various and often contradictory meanings attached to them. thus people talk of chest, medium, mixed, throat, falsetto, and head registers, and these terms being utterly unscientific--_i.e._, being based upon sensations and fancies instead of physiological facts--no one can give a clear and satisfactory definition of any one of them. to bring order into such chaos is an almost hopeless undertaking, and the first step in this direction is obviously to ask ourselves, what is the meaning of the word "register?" my reply is this: _a register consists of a series of tones which are produced by the same mechanism_. then comes the question, can any such registers be demonstrated in the vocal apparatus; and if so, what are the mechanisms by which they are produced? the answer supplied by the laryngoscope is, yes. there are, broadly speaking, three registers in the human voice, and the mechanisms are plainly visible, as follows:--( ) during the lowest series of tones the vocal ligaments vibrate in their entire thickness (pl. xiv). ( ) during the next series of tones the vocal ligaments vibrate only with their thin inner edges (pl. xv). ( ) during the highest series of tones a portion of the vocal chink is firmly closed, and only a small part of the vocal ligaments vibrates (pl. xvi). in accordance with these physiological facts, mr. curwen, in his admirable book "the teacher's manual," calls the registers _the thick_, _the thin_, and _the small_. these names have a scientific basis, and their meaning cannot be misunderstood. they are already familiar to thousands who study music by mr. curwen's method, and i have myself made use of them in my lectures at university college and at other places. i shall, therefore, also adopt them in this little work, and hope they will soon find general acceptance among teachers and learners, as thereby a great many misunderstandings will be avoided. * * * * * our next business will be to ascertain how these registers are divided among various voices, and the result as revealed by the laryngoscope is rather startling. it consists in this, that the break between the thick and thin occurs _in both sexes_ at about [illustration: musical notation] in order to realize the full meaning of this, the reader must bear in mind that music for tenors is generally written an octave higher than it is sung, so that the tones we are now speaking about would, as a rule, in a tenor part be expressed by [illustration: musical notation]. my assertion, therefore, amounts to this, that everything below [illustration: musical notation] whether sung by soprano, contralto, tenor, or bass, is produced by one mechanism--that is to say, by the vocal ligaments vibrating in their entire thickness; and that the series of tones above [illustration: musical notation] whether sung by bass, tenor, contralto, or soprano, is again produced by one mechanism (although a different one from the last), that is to say, by the vocal ligaments vibrating only with their thin inner edges. then there remains the small register, which belongs almost exclusively to sopranos, and which represents the series of tones above [illustration: musical notation]. i thus maintain, not only that the great break between the thick and the thin occurs (individual differences apart) at the same place in both sexes, but that (leaving for the moment sub-divisions out of consideration) the male voice has but two registers--_i.e._, the thick and the thin, while the female voice has three registers--_i.e._, the thick, the thin, and the small. from this it follows that the female voice is _not_, as supposed by some, simply a reproduction of the male an octave higher. i have spoken of the above results of the investigations with the laryngoscope as startling, because the female voicebox is generally imagined to be exactly like the male, save in size, and the inference that the female voice must be exactly like the male, save in pitch, is, therefore, a very natural one. neither am i surprised that those who hold an opposite view to mine are never tired of advancing this argument. mr. lunn says, in the book quoted before, on page , "consequently it may safely be asserted that the vocal cords are subject to the same laws as all sounding bodies, and as the sole difference between the male and the female larynx is one of size alone, the voice from the latter _is_ a reproduction of the former on a higher scale." i have, however, shown by the measurements of luschka, on p. , that the proportions of the female voicebox are materially different from those of the male, and i have also pointed out differences in shape noticeable to any observer. now, although i do not pretend that i have by these facts and figures sufficiently accounted for the difference in the registers of the male and the female voice; yet these facts and figures are nevertheless greatly in my favour, and they are certainly a sufficient answer to the above argument of those who differ from me. my case is further strengthened by the testimony of that eminent physiologist, dr. merkel, who says,[n] "in the male organ there are only two materially different registers to be noticed, the chest and the falsetto, ... on the other hand, in the female organ there are clearly to be distinguished three registers--a low, a medium, and a high." (from dr. merkel's definitions on pp. , , and , it will be seen that low, medium, and high, are but other names here employed for thick, thin, and small.) dr. merkel, speaking of the chest (thick) register, goes on to observe, on p. , "it ceases, very curiously, in both sexes on one of the first four tones of the one-lined octave (der ein-gestrichenen octave) [illustration: musical notation] so that it is about one octave longer [deeper] in man than in woman." let it be observed above all things that i am not propounding a theory, but explaining a fact; a fact, moreover, which i have before now demonstrated to men holding opposite opinions, thereby convincing them, and which i am willing at any moment to demonstrate again. a very striking proof that the distribution of the registers is in accordance with my explanations may be further found in the circumstance that it is often impossible to distinguish a male voice from a female when (other things such as power and quality being equal) both sing in the same registers. the similarity is, of course, greatest between tenor and contralto, and in case of a trial they must confine themselves to the compass easily belonging to both; neither should the singers be seen by the listeners. i have frequently by these experiments convinced sceptics; and it has happened more than once when the female voice was slightly more robust than the male, that, to the great amusement of those present, the judges emphatically and without the slightest hesitation pronounced the lady to be the tenor and the gentleman the contralto. * * * * * we have so far only spoken of three registers, the thick, below [illustration: musical notation]; the thin, between [illustration: music and]; and the small, above [illustration: musical notation]. the distinguishing features of these are so very clear as to make any mistake impossible. but now we come to sub-divisions, and with regard to these the matter is not so simple. singers know very well that other breaks occur in the human voice besides those hitherto mentioned, and the question arises how they are to be accounted for by corresponding changes in the vocal organ. the evidence furnished on this point by the laryngoscope is, in my opinion, not sufficient, because the alterations in the vocal ligaments are so exceedingly minute as to be capable of being differently interpreted by different observers. i have consequently come to the conclusion that they cannot be accepted as indicating changes of mechanism unless corroborated and amplified by other signs. in order to place the whole subject before the reader in a comprehensive form, i cannot do better than quote the elaborate description which madame emma seiler gives of the registers in "the human voice in singing" (philadelphia, ). madame seiler, to whom mr. lunn is pleased to refer, on p. of his treatise, as an "ignorant person," assisted professor helmholtz, of heidelberg, in his essay upon the formation of the vowel-tones and the registers of the female voice. he says he thus had "an opportunity of knowing the delicacy of her musical ear, and her ability to master the more difficult and abstract parts of the theory of music." the professor further speaks of her as "a very careful, skilled, and learned teacher." professor du bois-reymond, of berlin, also describes her as "a lady of truly remarkable attainments." with such recommendations i make no apology for quoting at length from madame seiler's writings; and it will be readily understood that whenever i differ from her, i do so with some diffidence, and only after careful conviction of the accuracy of my own independent observations. [illustration] i shall substitute the terms hitherto used in these pages for others employed by madame seiler, and i have added a diagram of the registers, which may assist the reader in forming a clear idea of the subject. the thick register. "when the vowel a, as in 'man,' was sung, i could, after long-continued practice, plainly see how the pyramids quickly rose with their summits in their mucous membranous case and approached to mutual contact. in like manner the vocal ligaments approached each other so closely that scarcely any space between them was observable. the pocket ligaments formed the ellipse described by garcia in the upper part of the glottis." the word "glottis" really signifies the vibrating element in the voicebox. i suppose, therefore, that by "the upper part of the glottis" madame seiler here means the "part above the glottis." "when, in using the laryngoscope upon myself, i slowly sang the ascending scale, this movement of the vocal ligaments and pyramids was repeated at every tone. they separated and appeared to retreat, in order to close again anew, and to rise somewhat more than before. this movement of the pyramids may best be compared to that of a pair of scissors. with every higher tone the vocal ligaments seemed more stretched, and the vocal chink somewhat shorter. at the same time, when i sang the scale upward, beginning with the lowest tones, the vocal ligaments seemed to be moved in their whole length and breadth by large, loose vibrations, which extended even to all the rest of the interior of the voicebox. * * * * * "the place at which the pyramids, almost closed together, cease their action and leave the formation of the sound to the vocal ligaments alone, i found in the thick register of the female voice at c, c[#] [illustration: musical notation], more rarely at b [illustration: musical notation]. in the thick register of the male voice this change occurs at a, b[b] [illustration: musical notation]. with some effort the above-mentioned action of the pyramids may be continued several tones higher. but such tones, especially in the female voice, have that rough and common timbre which we are too often compelled to hear in our female singers. the glottis also, in this case, as well as the parts of the voicebox near the glottis, betrays the effort very plainly; as the tones ascend, the glottis and the surrounding parts grow more and more red. _as at this place in the thick register there occurs a visible and sensible straining of the organs, so also is it in all the remaining transitions, as soon as the attempt is made to extend the action by which the lower tones are formed beyond the given limits of the same._ these transitions, which cannot be extended without effort, coincide perfectly with the places where j. müller had to _stretch_ the ligaments of his exsected voicebox so powerfully in order to reach the succeeding half-tone. garcia likewise finds tones thus formed disagreeable and imperfect in sound. "usually, therefore, at the note c[#] [illustration: musical notation] in the female voice, and a, b[b] [illustration: musical notation] in the male voice, the vocal ligaments alone act in forming the sound, and are throughout the register moved by large, loose, full vibrations. but the instant the vocal ligaments are deprived of the assistance of the pyramids they relax, and appear longer than at the last tone produced by that aid. but with every higher tone they appear again to be stretched shorter and more powerfully up to f, f[#] [illustration: musical notation] the natural transition from the thick to the thin register, as well in the _male_ as in the _female_. the voicebox is perceptibly lower in all the tones of the thick register than in quiet breathing." i confess my inability to understand how the vocal ligaments can get _longer_ by relaxing and _shorter_ by stretching. but apart from this i assert that there is no relaxing of the vocal ligaments at the break between the lower thick and the upper thick at all. this is clearly proved by the ring-shield aperture, which would open immediately if such were the case. i also doubt whether the action or inaction of the pyramids determines the break between the lower thick and the upper thick, as they are cartilages--_i.e._, pieces of gristle--and cannot, therefore, by any vibrations of their own assist in the production of tone. the tension of the vocal ligaments increases as we sing up the scale until the ring-shield aperture has quite disappeared. but while it remains so closed, and without the vocal ligaments being any further stretched, we can yet sing higher still. the gradations of tone are now no longer formed by the action of the ring-shield muscles (see p. ), but by the shield-pyramid muscles which press the vocal ligaments more and more closely together, until at last scarcely any trace of a slit remains between them. another result of this action of the shield-pyramid muscles must also be to narrow the space _below_ the vocal chink, which, as we know from the experiments of j. müller, has the effect of raising the pitch of tones. i think it very likely, therefore, that the change from the lower to the upper thick is really brought about by the shield-pyramid muscles coming into play after the ring-shield muscles have done their share. the thin register. "all the tones of the thin register are produced by vibrations only of the fine, inner, slender edges of the vocal ligaments. in this action the vocal ligaments are not so near together, but allow of a fine linear space between them, and the pocket ligaments are pressed further back than in the production of the tones of the thick register. the rest of the action of the glottis is, however, entirely the same. with the beginning of the thin register at f[#] [illustration: musical notation] the whole vocal chink appears again longer, and the vocal ligaments are much looser than in the highest tones of the thick register. the united action, already described, of the pyramids and the vocal ligaments in forming the deeper tones of the thin register, extends to c, c[#] [illustration: musical notation] in the female voice, and in the male voice to e[b], e [illustration: musical notation] commonly written thus, e[b], e [illustration: musical notation] but which only rarely occurs in composition, and then is sung by tenors as i have given it; that is, one octave lower. "with the c[#] [illustration: musical notation] in the female voice, and the e[b], e [illustration: musical notation] in the male voice, the pyramids cease again to act, and, as before, in the upper thick, leave the formation of the sounds to the vocal ligaments alone, which at this change appear again longer and looser, but with every higher tone tighten up to f, f[#] [illustration: musical notation] in the female voice, and in the male voice to g [illustration: musical notation] or as it is commonly written, [illustration: musical notation]. in the thin register the voicebox preserves its natural position as in quiet breathing." i must say here that i have never had any very clear conception of madame seiler's meaning when she speaks of the action or inaction of the pyramids in the formation of the registers. in the lower thick register there is, as a rule, a small triangular space between them which gets gradually smaller as the tones ascend, until it is quite closed in the upper thick. dr. merkel, also, has made the same observation. so far, therefore, we are agreed. but even of this i can find no trace in the thin register, where i have always noticed that the pyramids are quite close together. on this point, my assertion is borne out by dr. merkel, who insists upon the same thing. i also demur to madame seiler's statement that in this register again the vocal ligaments relax at the beginning of the upper division, and i invite the reader to test the matter by reference to the ring-shield aperture. the evidence furnished by this experiment is conclusive, because the vocal ligaments cannot possibly relax without a corresponding enlargement of the ring-shield aperture. a very striking illustration of this occurs during the transition from the upper thick to the lower thin. during the highest tones of the upper thick, when the tension of the vocal ligaments is greatest, the ring-shield aperture, as we have seen before, completely closes, while immediately opening very widely during the lowest tones of the lower thin, when the vocal ligaments are quite relaxed. nothing of the kind takes place during the change either from the lower thin to the upper thin, or from the lower thick to the upper thick. it appears to me that madame seiler has rather exaggerated the importance of these minor breaks, while she does not make enough of the great break between the upper thick and the lower thin. if there is straining anywhere, it is during the attempt to carry the mechanism of the upper thick beyond its natural limit. in this case the tension of the vocal ligaments, as indeed of all surrounding parts, becomes so tremendous that at last the whole thing looks as though it were literally going to fly to pieces in every direction. now change into the lower thin, and the relief is wonderful. let tenors make a note of this. if they _will_ violate nature, they must pay the penalty! as regards the transition from the lower thin to the upper thin, i would suggest the following explanation:--the vocal chink is at first, as madame seiler says, linear, and the gradations of tone are caused by simple tension of the vocal ligaments, which is proved by the diminution of the ring-shield aperture. while this goes on we are in the lower thin. now the laryngoscope reveals another method of still further raising the pitch, which consists in a gradual shortening of the vocal chink. this is caused by the shield-pyramid muscles pressing together the ends of the vocal ligaments, thereby giving the vocal chink a slightly elliptic shape. when this mechanism comes into play we are in the upper thin. the small register. "when in the observation of the thin register i had sung upwards to its highest tones, and then sang still higher, i became aware, with the f[#] [illustration: musical notation] of a change in the motions of the organ of singing, and the tones thus produced had a different _timbre_ from those of the thin. it required long and patient practice before i finally succeeded in drawing forward the lid so that i could see the glottis in its whole length. not until then was i able to observe the following: with the f[#] [illustration: musical notation] the vocal ligaments suddenly closed firmly together to their middle, with their fine edges one over the other. this closing appeared as a fine red line extending, from the pyramids at the back, forward to the middle of the vocal ligaments, and leaving free only a third part of the whole glottis, immediately under the lid, to the front wall of the voicebox. * * * * * "the foremost part of the glottis formed an oval orifice, which, with every higher tone, seemed to contract more and more, and so became smaller and rounder. the fine edges of the vocal ligaments which formed this orifice were alone vibrating, and the vibrations seemed at first looser, but, with every higher tone, the ligaments were more stretched." * * * * * i have repeatedly had the opportunity of observing the mechanism of the small register, and i only differ from madame seiler in this, that i did not notice that "with every higher tone the ligaments were more stretched." it appeared to me, on the contrary, as though the raising of the pitch was produced by a contraction of the vocal ligaments. in all other respects i entirely agree with the above description. according to madame seiler the small register is formed by the action of the wedges, as described on p. . we have thus become acquainted with the mechanism of the registers of the human voice. we have also seen that it is possible to carry these up beyond their natural limits, though the process is accompanied by visible signs of straining. the practice of teachers, therefore, whose aim it is to "extend" voices upwards, and who are very proud, especially in tenors, of their "made tones," is strongly to be condemned, and is sure to have disastrous results. it is, on the other hand, equally possible to carry the registers down several tones below the places called the breaks, so that at the limits of each register there are a number of tones which may be produced by two different mechanisms. the carrying down of a register causes no fatigue, and though its volume is weak as compared with the corresponding lower register, it is surprising how soon it can, by judicious practice, be made to acquire fulness and power. in order to prevent misunderstandings, it may be well to add that the breaks as indicated in the preceding pages are intended only to show the average compass in the great majority of voices. as, for instance, there are basses who have an exceptional extension of the lower thick downwards, so there are, undoubtedly, tenors who have an exceptional extension of the upper thick upwards. it must, therefore, be the voice trainer's business very carefully to ascertain the exact limits of the registers in every single case. in choral singing, however, where individual attention is impossible, the breaks as given above may be implicitly relied upon. not only should the registers never be carried above these points, but if the teacher is wise he will insist upon his pupils forming the habit of changing the mechanism a tone or two below. never "extend" lower registers upwards, but strengthen the upper registers, and carry them downwards, thus equalizing the voices from top to bottom, and enabling your pupils to sing without straining. that is the great lesson taught by the investigations described in these pages. i have seen a singer pull himself together, and with a tremendous effort shout a high a in the thick register. his neck swelled out, his face became blood-red, and altogether the "performance" was of an acrobatic rather than of an artistic nature. the general public, of course, loudly applauded, but people of taste and refinement shuddered. such exhibitions are, unfortunately, not rare. if this little book should contribute, however remotely, to discourage them, it will not have been written in vain. appendix to the third edition it has been suggested to me that the usefulness of my little book would be enlarged if i were to add an appendix containing some application to practical work of the physiological laws already explained. this i have endeavoured to do in the following chapter, and i trust the simplicity of the directions will enable the reader to carry out my instructions, to vary them, and to enlarge upon them according to circumstances. hints on teaching. one of the most important lessons taught us by the study of vocal physiology is the correct method of breathing and of obtaining control over the respiratory muscles. i will now give a few exercises for this purpose. divest yourself of any article of clothing which at all interferes with the freedom of the waist. lie down flat on your back. place one hand lightly on the abdomen and the other upon the lower ribs. inhale, through the nostrils, slowly, deeply, and evenly, without interruption or jerking. if this is done properly the abdomen will, gradually and without any trembling movement, increase in size, and the lower ribs will expand sideways, while the upper part of the chest and the collar-bones remain undisturbed. now hold the breath, _not_ by shutting the glottis, but by keeping the midriff down and the chest walls extended, and count four mentally, at the rate of sixty per minute. then let the breath go _suddenly_. the result of this will be a flying up of the midriff, and a falling down of the ribs; in other words, there will be a collapse of the lower part of the body. this collapse may not at first be very distinct, as the extension has probably been insufficient; but both will become more and more perfect as the result of continued practice. let it be clearly understood: the _in_spiration is to be slow and deep, the _ex_piration sudden and complete. in _in_spiration the abdomen and the lower part of the chest expand, and in _ex_piration they collapse. the time of holding the breath is not, at the outset, to exceed four seconds, and the student must never, on any account, fatigue himself with these exercises; they may, however, be frequently repeated at intervals. it will be found by occasional trials upon the spirometer that the breathing capacity increases with these exercises. the process of abdominal respiration becomes easy and no longer requires constant watchfulness, and the student will soon be able to carry it on, not only lying down, but while he is standing or walking, though not at once with the same ease. he must now, for a time, be careful to see that he has the same physical sensations in breathing which he noticed while making his first experiment when lying down; and he must exercise special care when running, going upstairs, &c., and, of course, in speaking or singing. the criterion of correct inspiration is, as i have said before, an increase of size of the abdomen and of the lower part of the chest. whoever draws in the abdomen and raises the upper part of the chest in the act of filling his lungs does wrong. meanwhile, in continuing the breathing exercises, the time of holding the breath may be increased at the rate of two seconds per week; so that the student who, during the first fortnight, limited himself to four seconds will, at the end of six weeks, hold his breath during twelve seconds. i have, in some instances, with students of mine, gone as far as twenty seconds; but i desire very earnestly to warn my readers to be cautious and not to go to extremes. nothing will be gained, but infinite harm may ensue by over-doing these lung gymnastics, and persons at all inclined to bleeding from the lungs should not undertake the exercises at all, except with the sanction of their medical adviser, who will limit the practice according to circumstances. the second breathing exercise is the exact opposite of the first, and consists in taking a rapid _in_spiration and making the _ex_piration slow, even, uninterrupted and without jerking or trembling. my musical readers will at once see the importance of this exercise for the purpose of singing sustained tones and florid passages; but it would be quite useless to attempt it before no. has been sufficiently practised. the third and last breathing exercise consists in taking the _in_spiration as in no. , and the _ex_piration as in no. . after the two preceding ones have been fully mastered this last is easy enough; and the student who has persevered so far will now have overcome one of the greatest difficulties of a vocalist, namely, the proper management of the breath, an accomplishment which seems to become more and more rare in our go-ahead times of electricity. i feel that my description of these breathing exercises is far from complete, and what is worse, that it may lead to misunderstandings, the results of which will hereafter be laid to my charge. but writing, however lucid and careful, can never take the place of _vivâ voce_ instruction; and i wish it to be distinctly understood that the explanations here given are not by any means intended to supersede the aid of a competent and painstaking teacher. i will take leave of this part of my subject by warning my readers against the mistake, which may be caused by a superficial perusal of these pages, that it is the chief aim of the above breathing exercises to enable the singer or speaker to cram as much air as possible into the lungs. i have pointed out some of the evils which are likely to arise from exaggerated breathing efforts; yet i wish to say again, most emphatically, that it is quite possible to _overcrowd_ the lungs with air. this is a matter of every-day occurrence, which is not, however, on that account any the less reprehensible; for, as i have already mentioned, it is sure to lead, sooner or later, to forcing and inequality of voice, and to congestion of the vessels and tissues of the throat and of the lungs. now we come to the question of the production and cultivation of the voice, including the nature and the proper treatment of the registers. in this connection i shall endeavour to explain a series of exercises based upon physiological facts, which will enable the reader to strike out a safe and direct path, avoiding much useless drudgery, and leading to eminently satisfactory results. as it is not my object to supply a singing manual, but simply to point out the way of treating the voice upon scientific principles, i shall not attempt to deal separately with the different classes of voices, or to go into minute details; but it will rather be my aim to lay down general principles, leaving my readers to carry them into practice, and to elaborate them according to individual circumstances. it must also be borne in mind that the exercises i am going to recommend will here be taken as they suggest themselves, while passing in review the various parts which unitedly form the mechanism of the human voice. therefore, in the actual process of training a voice, they will have to be taken in a different order from that in which they are discussed here, in accordance with the general plan of this book. the movements of the pyramids with the vocal ligaments attached to them are governed by two sets of muscles pulling them either together or away from each other. these have been fully described under the names of the "closing muscles" and the "opening muscles;" and the reader will at once see the importance of devising a set of exercises which shall call these opening and closing muscles into play, thereby making them powerful, and bringing them under the control of the will. this is, fortunately, a very simple matter; for all we have to do is to sing a series of short tones, each tone to be followed by a short inspiration. we have learnt that every time we strike a tone the vocal ligaments are made to approximate; by so doing we therefore exercise the closing muscles. every time we take an inspiration the vocal ligaments are separated; by so doing therefore we exercise the opening muscles. it is plain from these explanations that, by practising in the manner just indicated, we shall gain the same results in five minutes which it would take us half an hour to obtain by singing sustained tones after the usual method of teaching. let me now give as clear a description of the exercise as possible. find the pitch of your speaking voice, which we will say is _f_. then sing the following:-- [illustration: musical notation _o_ _o_ _o_ _o_ _ah_ _ah_ _ah_ _ah_ _ai_ _ai_ _ai_ _ai_ strike the tone firmly and clearly, avoiding alike the _check_ of the glottis and the _glide_ of the glottis. this is often a matter of great difficulty, requiring much patience and perseverance on the part of the teacher as well as on that of the student. the _glide_ of the glottis is particularly hard to eradicate, and in many instances the case seems to be hopeless. do not, however, despair, but try this: pronounce vigorously the word "up." then _whisper_, but still very vigorously and distinctly, three times the vowel _u_, as you just had it in the word "up." immediately afterwards _sing_ "ah." thus-- up! _u_, _u_, _u_, ah. (_spoken_) (_whispered_) (_sung_) i recommend this device from extended personal experience, and hope my fellow-teachers may find it as useful as i have found it myself. another point of importance in practising the exercise for strengthening the opening and the closing muscles is the breathing after every tone; and this must be done gently and without effort, the only perception which the singer should have of it being a slight movement of the midriff. when you can sing the exercise in this manner on _f_, your supposed speaking tone, then go up the scale, semitone by semitone, to _b_ or _c_ above, and down again, semitone by semitone, to _b_ or _c_ below. of the quality of tone i will say nothing here, because that part of the subject will be discussed later on in connection with the tongue and the soft palate. the next thing in connection with the physiology of the vocal organ from which we can deduct a practical lesson is the action of the muscles governing the pitch of the voice. this process is a very complex one, and can be made clear only by _vivâ voce_ explanations, with the help of good models and moving diagrams, by demonstrations with the laryngoscope, and by carefully watching external signs. there is no doubt, however, that a set of muscles, described as the "stretching and slackening muscles," play the most important part in this matter, and i advise the reader to study carefully the chapter on "the movements of the voicebox," and try the experiments mentioned in it. it will thus be seen that the flexibility of the voice depends in a great measure upon the control we have over the muscles governing the pitch; that is to say, upon the readiness and exactness with which we are able to allow them to contract or to relax. performers upon various instruments, as for instance the piano and the violin, know that certain exercises are indispensable to brilliant execution, because they strengthen the muscles of the wrist and of the fingers, and make them obedient to the will. it has even been found that simple finger gymnastics, exercising separately different sets of muscles, and making them independent of each other, are of the greatest value, and save long hours of tedious and wearisome practising. in a similar manner we may spare ourselves much trouble and gain our end most readily by vocal gymnastics, calculated to bring into play the stretching and slackening muscles of the larynx. there is no difficulty about it. sing f, the same tone from which we started when exercising the opening and the closing muscles, and add to it g. the alteration of the pitch is brought about by a contraction of the stretching muscles overcoming the resistance of the opposing slackening muscles, thereby _tensing_ the vocal ligaments. if you again sing f, the case is reversed, and the new alteration in pitch is brought about by a contraction of the slackening muscles overcoming the resistance of the opposing stretching muscles, thereby _relaxing_ the vocal ligaments. [illustration: musical notation _o_ _o_ _ah_ _ah_ _ai_ _ai_ the above is an example. take great care to render it perfectly. sing every tone clearly and distinctly, but without jerking, at the same time _uniting_ all the tones, but without drawling. do not try how quickly you can sing, but rather how distinctly. commence slowly, and be in no hurry to increase the speed. raise and lower the exercise semitone by semitone within the medium part of your voice. a variety of exercises founded upon the same principles may be introduced, and will serve to increase the flexibility of the voice in a very short time. now we come to the "registers" of the voice. i have defined a register as "a series of tones produced by the same mechanism." the five registers of which the human voice, taken as a whole, consists, are carefully described, and the means by which they are formed minutely explained in a former part of this book. these registers, nevertheless, continue to be a stumbling-stone to many, and the fact of the existence in the throat of different actions for the production of different series of tones has led some teachers into the deplorable mistake of developing and exaggerating them, instead of, on the contrary, smoothing them over and equalizing them. the result is that we often hear singers who seem to have two or three different _voices_. they are growling in the one, moaning in the second, and shrieking in the third; while it should have been their aim so to blend and to unite the registers as to make it difficult even for a practised ear to distinguish the one from the other. such singing is outrageous, and i protest against the opinion expressed in some quarters that it is the natural outcome of the teachings of the laryngoscope. in developing and strengthening the registers i base my first exercises upon the fact that the "vowel scale" goes from low to high in this order; _oo_, _oh_, _ah_, _ai_, _ee_, so that consequently the highest tones will be produced most readily when singing the vowels in the order just given. [illustration: musical notation _o_ _ah_ _ai_ _ee_ _ai_ _ah_ _o_ _oo_ _o_ _ah_ _ai_ _ah_ _o_ _oo_ sing this exercise quite softly, strike each tone clearly and distinctly, and take a _slight_ inspiration after every tone. be careful to take a full inflation only at the beginning, and afterwards to inhale _less_ air than has been consumed in every preceding tone, or you will after a while overcrowd the lungs, and experience a sensation of being choked. this is a thing to be avoided in any case; but under present circumstances it should be remembered that the short inspirations are not taken for the purpose of re-filling the lungs, but simply to compel the "opening and closing muscles" to do their work. by so doing we give them six times more exercise than by breathing only once at the beginning; and, what is more important still with regard to our immediate object, we greatly facilitate the task of the vocal ligaments to arrange themselves in different ways according to the registers they are to produce. it is self-evident that the danger of carrying the mechanism of a register beyond its proper limit is greater if the vocal ligaments are kept together, than it would be if they were made to separate, thereby being enabled to close again under different conditions. it will be seen, therefore, that the slight inspirations after every tone are an essential part of the exercise, and must on no account be omitted. the exercise is to be taken at a convenient pitch, and then to be raised semitone by semitone in accordance with the requirements of individual voices. it may, after some time, be taken right through upon the vowel _ah_, and finally _legato_, gradually increasing the speed, to the italian word _scala_, singing the syllable _la_ to the last note. the change from one register to another should always be made a couple of tones below the extreme limit, so that there will be at the juncture of every two registers a few "optional" tones which it is possible to take with both mechanisms. the singer will be wise, however, to avail himself of the power of producing an optional tone with the mechanism of the lower register only on rare occasions. to force the register beyond its natural limit is, of course, infinitely worse, and should never be tolerated. the practice carries its own punishment, as it invariably ruins the voice; and tones so produced always betray the effort (frequently in a most painful degree), and are consequently never beautiful. it is to be observed that the exercise given above may be varied to any extent, so long as it is based upon the principle which has been explained. the beneficial results in the development of the voice will speedily be noticed, and then sustained tones may be sung through the whole compass after the orthodox fashion. this brings me to the consideration of the "mixed voice," which is essential in bridging over the break between the "upper thick" and the "lower thin" of the tenor, and which is also frequently made use of by baritones and basses in the production of their highest tones. the "voce mista" is "mixed" in this sense, that it combines the _vibrating mechanism_ of the "lower thin" with the _position of the larynx_ of the "lower thick;" that is to say, while the vibrations are confined to the thin inner edges of the vocal ligaments, the larynx itself takes a lower position in the throat than for the "lower thin," and the result is a remarkable increase of volume without any corresponding additional effort in the production of tone. a few trials before a looking-glass will at once prove the correctness of this explanation, and, what is of more practical consequence, will enable the student with a little practice to overcome the serious difficulty of singing high tones without straining, yet with a fulness capable of being increased or diminished at pleasure. the last thing we have to consider is the "resonator" of the human voice, namely, the upper part of the throat, the mouth, and the nose. whether we sing _ah_, _ai_, _ee_, _o_, or _oo_, the original tone produced by the vibrations of the vocal ligaments is in either case absolutely the same, and it takes the form of one vowel or another, solely according to the shape which the "resonator" assumes, and which may be described as a mould into which the tone is cast. the quality of the voice also--its throatiness, its nasal twang, its shrillness, harshness, and ugliness, or its purity, roundness, fulness, and beauty--depend mainly upon the nature of the resonator, and upon the way in which we work it. it is, therefore, a matter of the highest importance to be fully acquainted with this part of the vocal apparatus, and i hope my readers will follow me in a brief consideration of it with the more pleasure, as we are now speaking of parts which are directly under the control of our will, and upon the proper management of which so much depends. there is a most able, most painstaking, and most instructive work upon this subject, "pronunciation for singers," by alexander ellis, esq., f.r.s., &c., published by j. curwen and sons, to which i would call the attention of all who desire to make the best use of their voices. to be really understood this book requires that the student should conscientiously carry out all the experiments mr. ellis suggests. but any one doing so will, i venture to assert, rise from the study of this subject with a deeper conviction of the immense importance of the "resonator," and with a clearer perception of the best way of managing it than he ever had before. i obtain better and quicker results with my pupils since i have learnt the lessons mr. ellis teaches, and i have no doubt my fellow teachers will derive similar benefit from their study. one of the few points upon which "doctors" do not differ is that the tone, in order to be pure, resonant, and far-reaching, must be allowed to come well to the front of the mouth. it should, as the phrase goes, be directed against the hard palate just above the front teeth. but this is an unfortunate way of putting it, as the tone fills the whole cavity of the mouth, and cannot be "directed" like a jet of water upon any given point. nevertheless the idea sought to be conveyed by the injunction is good, for it is certainly essential to good quality that the tone should be brought well forward in the mouth. this is frequently prevented by several circumstances which we will now consider:-- the "soft palate" may be in the way. this is the movable partition shaped like an arch with the little pendant called the "uvula" hanging down in the centre. it acts like a curtain. if we lower it, it hangs upon the back of the tongue, shutting off the mouth from the throat, thereby compelling the tone to pass through the nostrils, and thus giving it a nasal quality. this nasal quality increases the more the passages through which the tone has to travel are impeded; but the first and indispensable condition for its existence is the lowering of the soft palate. raise this, and you may completely shut the nostrils and yet produce a pure vocal tone. the reason is that, with the soft palate _up_, the nose is shut off from the throat, thereby compelling the tone to pass through the mouth. but more, the soft palate is never still for a moment while we are singing or speaking, as it assumes a different degree of tension for every vowel and also for every pitch of the voice. we see, therefore, that this curtain has great influence upon the management of the voice, and we should do all we can to get it under our control. in order to accomplish this, arrange a mirror so that you get the light reflected upon the back of your throat without bending the head, stretching the neck, or otherwise assuming an awkward position. i recommend reflected instead of direct light, because with the latter it is almost impossible to get a perfect sight of the soft palate without making any contortions, and these, however slight, are fatal to success. the management of the light will, no doubt, offer a little difficulty to those not practised in these matters, but once made it is easily rearranged, and the gain is great. the mirror mentioned above is to throw the light into your mouth; you will require another one in which to see the image. now try the following: open your mouth and breath through the nostrils; the soft palate will immediately drop upon the tongue. sing while it is in this position, and you will produce nasal tone. now breathe through the mouth, and the soft palate will rise. raise it higher still, by attempting to yawn, till the uvula almost disappears. sing again with the soft palate in this position, and if nothing else interferes you will produce pure vocal tone. if you sing up and down the scale you will perceive that the soft palate to some extent rises and falls with the pitch of your tones. you will also notice that the tension of it increases as you approach the the limit of one register, and that it diminishes as soon as you change into the next register above. all these things, and a great many besides, you will notice if you observe carefully, and by a little steady practice you will acquire easy control over the movements of your soft palate, the beneficial results of which will soon be manifested in the improved quality and the better management of your voice. this leads me to remark that the soft palate should, as a matter of course, be in a perfectly healthy condition, or it cannot perform the infinite variety of movements required from it. in many cases however, it is in a very different state, the arch being congested, the uvula elongated, and the tonsils greatly enlarged. people with a soft palate like this are handicapped. they might as well try to run a race with a heavy weight on their shoulders as to sing or speak with such impediments in their throats. they should at once put themselves in the hands of a properly qualified medical practitioner, who may probably recommend clipping of the uvula or excision of the tonsils. either operation is a slight one, and in suitable cases nothing but good can follow from it. another obstacle to the forward production of tone is often caused by that great movable plug called the tongue. we have it on the highest authority that the tongue is an "unruly member." it is sometimes difficult to keep it under proper control, and with some people it is continually running away altogether. as under ordinary circumstances, so in singing. instead of peacefully assuming the position necessary for the production of the various vowels, the tongue rises in rebellion; it arches up, stiffens and defies all attempts to keep it in order. the tone is consequently more or less impeded and shut in, with the result of making it guttural or throaty. here again singing before the mirror as described above will enable the student to master his tongue and to improve his voice to a wonderful extent. all voice trainers, as i have said before, agree that tone should be allowed to come well forward, and the best plan to bring about this desirable end is to sing _oo_, then to allow _oo_ to dwindle into _o_, and finally to allow _o_ to dwindle into _ah_. in some cases these _oo-o-ah_ exercises are insufficient because the throatiness of tone is partly brought about by a stiffening of the throat in general. the _oo-o-ah_ must then be preceded by staccato exercises upon the syllable _koo_, which have the effect not only of throwing the tone forward, but also of making the throat supple. make the experiment before a mirror and you will see the reason. i should have pointed out in the course of this chapter that one of the great secrets in the production of fine resonant and far-reaching tone consists in using as little air as possible; and i conclude by advising all those who want to be heard to open their mouths, a thing which, curiously enough, many people in these islands seem to be determined not to do. _appendix to the ninth edition_ voice failure. a new chapter, written for the ninth edition, by mrs. emil behnke. the large and ever increasing number of professional voice users of all classes and of all grades who break down in voice is matter for serious and earnest consideration. innumerable students of singing of both sexes, in england and abroad, suffer shipwreck of their hopes and ambitions in the loss of their voices during the process of training, long before the period arrives for professional and public voice use. in some of these cases general delicacy of constitution has been the principal factor in the failure; in others weakness of throat or lungs may have been a cause. but after making ample allowance for such physical contributories, we are still face to face with the fact that voice failure, accompanied by throat ailments, more or less serious, occurs with startling frequency, and no other reason is assigned for it than the irresponsible, indefinite one that the voice broke down under training. of the infinitesimal number of successful students--that is to say, of those who, having completed their studies, come before the public as professional singers--so few escape the common lot that it would almost appear as if a fatality attended the following of the vocal art; yet from a health point of view, singing is an admirable exercise, and abundant medical testimony has been adduced in proof of this statement. there are, of course, other causes of non-success in vocal students besides break-down of voice. a fine voice and good musical knowledge are but parts of the equipment of the singer; if he have not the soul of an artist he will never rise above mediocrity. with musical and artistic failures this chapter has nothing to do, but only with preventible causes of break-down, such as have come under my personal observation from close association with the work of my late husband, and also in my own and my daughter's work since his lamented decease. in the establishment of a rule or law founded upon general truths, a number of examples bearing upon the subject under consideration are relied on as conclusive evidence, and by their use we are enabled to analyse reasons and deduce conclusions. from the examination of a large number of cases of vocal failure in singers and in speakers who have placed themselves under my tuition for recovery of voice, i have found that among the most frequent and most injurious mistakes are:-- st. wrong methods of breathing and of breath management. nd. loud singing and shouting. rd. neglecting to cultivate the resonators. th. forcing: (_a_) the registers; (_b_) the top notes. incorrect breathing. as regards methods of breathing, the descriptions and instructions given in this volume require no addition, and if carefully followed will prove of inestimable advantage both hygienically and vocally. it is, however, a fact that, not only in england, but also on the continent, pupils are taught to breathe clavicularly, in opposition to nature's method, which is diaphragmatic--_i.e._, the combined forms of rib and diaphragm breathing. the following is a striking example of the evil of clavicular breathing. during last summer an american lady, who had been studying singing in milan for three years, came to me in great distress. she had expected to appear in grand opera in london, but, alas! her voice broke down, and serious throat troubles manifested themselves. she had lost all the upper notes of her voice from c in alt. down to d in the stave, and what was left of it was thin, reedy, and tremulous, like that of an old woman instead of a girl of . her master had insisted on clavicular breathing, the result being that when her lung capacity was tested it registered only cubic inches instead of . in addition to faulty breathing, she had been allowed to force up the registers of the voice to such an extent as to bring on serious congestion, with varicose veins in the vocal ligaments and in the pharynx. after several lessons the breathing capacity increased to cubic inches, the voice regained some of the upper notes, and lost the "cracked," tremulous sound. in time, with great care, the majority of the notes will come back, but probably c in alt. will never be reached again, and the general deterioration of voice may never be fully overcome. numerous similar instances, in men's voices as well as in women's, could be adduced, but the foregoing suffices; the results of incorrect breathing and of forcing being much the same in all cases, differing principally in degree. in the "treatise on the art of singing" by the late signor lamperti, occurs the following passage, which fully bears out the necessity for diligent acquirement of correct methods of breathing:--"masters of the present day, instead of obliging pupils to make a severe study of the art of respiration, as a rule, omit it altogether, and take them through the greater part of a modern opera at every lesson, to the certain ruin of their voices, and often at the expense of their bodily health. how many young singers come to milan or to paris with beautiful voices, musical talent, and every other natural gift, who, after putting themselves under the guidance of a master for two years, study modern operas; how many of these unfortunately find at the time of their _début_ that their voices, instead of being fresh and improved by education, are already worn and tremulous, and that, through the ignorance of their master, they have no longer any hope of success in their artistic career, which was finished before it was begun." a sad but an "ower true" description, applicable to other centres of voice-training besides milan and paris. it is scarcely possible to over-estimate the importance of correct methods of breathing and of breath management to all voice users, whether they are singers or speakers. as breath is the motive power of all voice it needs but little consideration to arrive at the conclusion that the best method of supply and control of this motor power is of vital necessity to those who depend upon their voices for success in their vocation, whether it be that of singer, clergyman, lecturer, or actor. some of the worst descriptions of stammering owe their origin to improper breath management, and numbers of such cases which have been under my care have been perfectly cured by specially designed breathing exercises, adapted to the requirements of each individual case, combined with training of the various muscles employed in articulation. as no two persons stammer alike there can be no universal panacea for the cure of this terrible affliction; it is, therefore, necessary to study the peculiar idiosyncrasies of each case before formulating a plan of treatment; and this makes it impossible to write rules for self-cure suited to every case. loud singing. the practice of always singing loudly is greatly to be deprecated, leading as it does to undue strain, to coarseness of the voice, and to utter inability to modulate it into softness and purity of tone. anyone can shout and bawl, but not every one can sing softly--therefore always practise softly until the voice be well formed, when it will be easy to increase the volume of sound. constant shouting causes the muscles of the larynx to lose their contractile power, and a condition is brought about which is analogous to writer's cramp. sometimes no voice can be produced, while at others it is given forth in a series of uncontrollable jerks. singers deficient in resonance, and who have not acquired the best use and control of the various parts of the resonator, resort to the objectionable practice of forcing their voices, relying upon power of blast and vigour of shout instead of cultivating resonance. a loud, big voice, produced with effort, is a manifestation of a certain amount of physical power; but such voice-production is not singing, it is mere shouting. tones so produced will ultimately show their bad origin by the effect left behind on the misused muscles. cultivation of the resonators. the resonators of the human voice, about which years ago emil behnke lectured and wrote, are only just beginning to receive the attention which their important functions deserve. over some of the resonating cavities we can obtain no voluntary control; but over the whole of the mouth, of the buccal cavity, and over part of the pharyngeal we may, by education, gain as much influence as over the fingers of the hand, and the results obtained by such training are frequently astonishing. a student at one of our colleges came to me recently whose first question was "can you teach me how not to sing with a 'squeezed' throat?" "nothing easier," was my reply. on his singing a few notes to me, the tone of the voice revealed that owing to want of knowledge of the action of the resonators, he was closing his throat in such a manner that the voice sounded as if he were singing through the teeth of a comb. without looking in his mouth, i drew on a piece of paper the position in which were his soft palate, the pillars of the fauces, the uvula, and the tongue, telling him that was the picture he would see on looking at his throat while singing. this proved on examination to be the case; and great was his wonderment to find that, after a little practice he could voluntarily remedy this squeezed position until it gradually disappeared altogether, and with it the unpleasant quality of voice which had caused him so much trouble. the inherent quality of tone is reinforced by the co-vibrations of the air in the resonance cavities, the greater fulness of the sound being caused by the increased quantity of air which is set into vibration. the slightest alteration in the shape of these cavities affects the quality of vocal tone by altering the direction and size of the air columns. there is for every tone an air column of a certain size which most powerfully reinforces that tone; and every resonance cavity answers to some particular note better than to others. timbre in the voice depends largely upon the echoing and re-echoing of these resonance chambers; and it needs but little reflection to see that the shape given to the mouth in pronouncing speech sounds--more especially vowel sounds, with all their various shades--interferes more or less with the purity and quality of tone. hence the necessity in singing for modifying vowel pronunciation to suit the various tones and pitches of the voice. every shade of vowel has a certain pitch of its own which is best produced by certain positions of the mouth, tongue, and soft palate. it is, therefore, necessary, carefully to shape the mouth so that, on notes of different pitches, the configuration of the mould may be that which gives the best quality of the particular vowel tone. there must be an unimpeded passage for the voice from the larnyx to the lips, and this cannot be obtained if the same vowel shades are maintained in song as in speech. the vowels which require the greatest alteration in position of the mouth are a, e, and u; e being quite the most difficult, because, contrary to the opinion of some teachers who consider it the best for forward production of tone, it keeps the sound farther back in the throat than any other vowel, shutting it up and making the sound thin and poor. diligent practice before a mirror is necessary in order to acquire the best position of the buccal resonance chamber; its attainment will well repay the trouble taken, for not only will the voice gain in timbre, in resonance, and in ease, but pronunciation will become pure and clear. the vowel "ah" is frequently chosen as the best one for vocalising, because in its pronunciation it is easy to put the mouth in a good position; and voices are trained on it exclusively, with the result that no other vowel, or vowel shade, is perfectly produced. actual false intonation often arises from want of practice in adjusting the cavity of the mouth to that shape required for producing the best tone and resonance on the different notes; the absence of co-ordination between the fundamental tone and the overtones preventing perfect tune. the absolute truth of the foregoing remarks may easily be proved by singing the vowels at either extreme of the "vowel scale of nature," viz., "oo and ee," over the whole compass of the voice, having regard to the beauty of tone. although the singer may be quite unaware of the science underlying the fact, it will be found that the quality of the voice at the bottom of its range as these vowels are sung is very different from that at the top of the range, the alterations taking place in almost imperceptible gradations. by reference to the foregoing pages of this book it will be seen that the late emil behnke attached great importance to vowel training, and exemplifications of his methods are to be found in "voice training exercises" and "voice training studies" written in conjunction with c. w. pearce, mus.doc. the subject is also fully explained in "voice, song, and speech," by lennox browne, f.r.c.s., and emil behnke; and the whole matter is most ably discussed in "pronunciation for singers," by the late dr. a. j. ellis, f.r.s., published by messrs curwen & sons. in thus strongly advocating education of the resonator in the production of vowel sounds in singing, let me not be supposed to ignore the necessity for also cultivating pronunciation of consonants, which have been termed the checks and stops of sound. clearness of enunciation and purity of pronunciation, which are great aids to the voice, and possess a charm all their own, depend upon both vowels and consonants being accurately rendered. the english are the worst enunciators of all european peoples, and their custom is to lay the blame on the language, than which none other is deemed by them so unvocal. there is, however, a vast amount of sonority and musical charm in our grand and noble language, second only to the italian, when properly spoken. the cultivation of pure, accurate, and refined pronunciation in speech will greatly facilitate good enunciation in singing, and should he sedulously acquired; for there are numbers of vocalists who leave us in doubt as to whether the words they sing are english, french, italian, or german; while the number of those who mispronounce words in a deplorable manner is legion. forcing the registers. the next factor which has much to do with voice failure is forcing the registers beyond their proper point of change. the erroneous belief appears to exist that, by carrying up the registers a few notes beyond their natural limits, the tones thus produced are fuller and richer. but if in training a voice this practice be followed the result will be serious injury to the vocal organ. this is not a theoretical statement; we can easily see with the laryngoscope the great amount of congestion of the vocal ligaments immediately caused by thus forcing up a register; and not only are these affected by the strain put upon them, but the whole interior of the throat becomes blood-red, and looks irritated and inflamed. as soon as the change to the right register is made the vocal apparatus returns to its normal state. now we all know the effects of undue strain on muscles in other parts of the body, and have felt the pain and weakness arising therefrom; but far worse results follow the damage to the throat caused by the strain of forcing up the registers, by both speakers and singers. the quality of the voice becomes impaired, and actual loss of notes follows. in some extreme cases which i have had under my care, there has been entire absence of voice both in speaking and in singing, and much suffering has been experienced from granular inflammation of the throat brought on by this faulty voice use. another method of forcing the voice is the almost universal endeavour to acquire "top notes" which do not belong to the singer's compass. because of the high notes in some voices exceptionally endowed by nature, it seems as though all singers, no matter what their natural range, have made it the one object of their training to strive after a vocal attainment whose rarity appears to be almost its only justification to be considered as an artistic merit. why should these ever vanishing "top notes" be so much craved and striven for? can it be said that, as regards each individual voice, these notes are higher in a scale of excellence than the rest? what merit does their acquisition promise as a set-off to the deterioration of the voice and its inevitable ultimate failure? a high note, _per se_, is not necessarily "a thing of beauty" to the listener, while the result of its attainment is often the converse of a "joy for ever" to the singer; for in those cases of forcing up the voice above its natural compass, violence is done to the throat, which in time results in some of the many ailments peculiar to singers who use faulty methods. the middle range of the voice becomes proportionately weaker and thinner as the cult of the extra "top notes" becomes greater, until the anomalous position is reached of a voice with two ends and no middle; while these superadded, artificial, high notes are wanting in timbre, in purity, in strength, and in ease. it is easily demonstrable by the laryngoscope that the forced and strained action of the vocal ligaments, and of other laryngeal and throatal muscular action, exercises an injurious influence upon the voice. the endeavour to sing notes beyond the extreme of the compass, or notes which do not naturally lie within any one register--particularly the chest register--causes great fatigue of the tensor muscles of the vocal ligaments, and serious congestion, extending to the windpipe and pharynx has, in many cases, followed this practice. more time and energy are devoted to the acquirement of what the late emil behnke called "mere acrobatic skill" than is given to the purely artistic side of voice use, and it follows that we get "the survival _not_ of the fittest" but rather of those with exceptionally strong physical organisations, instead of refined artists. the deterioration throughout the whole compass of the voice is often painfully noticeable during an entire song, but the forcible shouting of a full, high-pitched note at its close seems to be intended to compensate for all the misery previously endured by the sensitive listener. now the maintenance of a healthy condition of the vocal muscles depends to a great degree upon the right use of those muscles in the formation of tone. there should never be any feeling of fatigue, strain, pricking, tightness, aching, or of pain in the throat, nor yet of huskiness after vocal practice. the method of voice use which produces such results, or any one of them, is wrong. nature is pointing out as forcibly as possible the injury which is being done. her warning should be heeded before conditions, getting worse, lead up to the sad ailments from which so many suffer, and which are disastrous to both voice and health. the foregoing facts and illustrations force upon us the conclusion that the large majority of throat affections from which both speakers and singers suffer might be entirely prevented by correct methods of voice use. as prevention is proverbially better than cure, it must be infinitely more advantageous to acquire correct methods than to unlearn bad ones which exercise a deleterious influence, always recognisable even when entire voice failure has not followed their practice. _appendix to the tenth edition_ does diaphragmatic breathing apply equally to women as to men? in a kind notice of the first edition of this brochure, which appeared in _the medical press_, the editor raises the above question. he says: "the evils attending faulty methods of voice-production are pointed out both from an anatomical and from an artistic point of view, diaphragmatic breathing being especially insisted on in opposition to mere clavicular breathing. this is undoubtedly correct; but we think the advice here embodied would have been even more valuable had the authoress mentioned if from her experience she thought it applied in an equal extent to both sexes, as it is well known that nature, or we may perhaps more correctly say, the art of dress, causes women to breathe in a far more 'clavicular manner' than men." this is a valuable criticism, and as the point indicated is likely to be of interest to many persons, i append my reply, which appeared in the next number of _the medical press_:-- "to the editor of the _medical press and circular_. "sir,--i intended the advice on breathing to apply to both sexes, diaphragmatic breathing with perfect control being the foundation of all good voice-production, whether in speaking or in singing, in men and women alike, while clavicular breathing is a potent factor in voice-failure accompanied by throat ailments. from the examination of a large number of cases, i find it exceptional for a woman, when dressed, to breathe diaphragmatically, but when the garments are unfastened, and a few simple directions followed, nature's mode of breathing commences to re-assert itself, feebly at first, but vigorously after a little practice. very many men also breathe clavicularly, to the great detriment of their voices, whether in speaking or in singing. i have noticed, however that whereas the majority of women _always_ breathe clavicularly, comparatively few men adopt this pernicious habit unless when using the voice, which is, of course, the worst time for them to employ it. as a rule, men re-acquire the natural manner of breathing more easily and quickly than women; this may be partly accounted for by their greater freedom from constricting garments. after a few weeks' training of the respiratory muscles, the lung capacity frequently exceeds, in women especially, the average given in hutchinson's tables. "thanking you in anticipation for your courtesy in publishing this letter,--i am, sir, yours &c., "k. behnke " , earl's court square, s.w." index. artificial female voice, roman teachers, back ring pyramid muscles, , bands uniting shield and tongue-bone, belts _v._ braces for men, breast bone, breathing, collar-bone, ----, curing defective, ---- during sleep, ---- exercises, ----, midriff and rib combined, ----, mouth _v._ nostril, ---- neglected by teachers, ----, view of larynx, breath, singers' half-, browne, lennox, on breathing, , carpenter, dr., how tone is produced, cartilages of santorini, , , ---- of wrisberg, , , catlin on american indian breathing, chest described, ---- voice used for pay, chink, vocal, , clergymen's sore throat, collar-bones, composers disregarding voices, ----' ignorance of harp, ----, modern, wed music and words, ---- to blame for vocal decline, cords, vocal, a misleading term, ----, ----, false, ----, ----, origin of term, corsets for gentlemen, curwen's names for registers, czermak's test in vowel formation, ---- use of the laryngoscope, duprez' chest c, eberth's case, voice-box without lid, elsberg on nose-breathing, ---- on wedges (posterior nodules), eustachian tubes, exercises, ah, legato, scala, ----, breathing, ----, controlling tongue, ----, glottis, check and glide, ---- for tone quality, , ---- in changing registers, ----, mixed-voice, ---- on koo, ---- on vowels, ----, opening mouth, ----, resonator, ----, soft palate, ---- to govern pitch, ----, voice production, experiment, calf's lungs, ----, czermak on vowels, ----, defects in breathing, ----, feeling ring-shield aperture, , ---- in telling male and female registers, experiments, marshall on animals, ----, müller on dissected larynges, , ----, pressing shield to test pitch, ----, spirometer, ----, violin tone, ----, whisper and feel voice-box, ---- with laryngoscope, , ---- with mirror, for nasal tone, falsetto register neglected, , female and male minstrels, ---- voice spoilt by tenor pattern, foulis' laryngoscope, french singers subject to tremolo, garcia and the laryngoscope, ---- on forced registers, garrett, error in describing glottis, ---- on a blackbird's larynx, ---- on differences in larynges, glogg-ner-castelli on chest voice, glottis, chink of the, , ----, defects to avoid, ---- in producing sound, ---- in repose, ---- in respiration, ----, shock of the, ----, sphincter muscle, heart, helmholtz on whispered vowels, horns, upper and lower, , , human voice, four parts, ---- voice, incomparable, huxley's description of respiration, illingworth, rumney, on falsetto, , inspiration and expiration, ---- of men and women, ----, three ways of, ---- through the mouth, isenschmid's throat apparatus, italian composers studying voices, lacing, tight, laryngo-phantom, isenschmid's, laryngoscope described, ----, errors in using, ----, how to use, ----, what is seen, laryngoscopic images, , larynx generally described, ---- (see voice-box) levers of the pyramids, lid and its function, , , ligaments, pocket, , ----, ----, not tone producers, ----, ----, their functions, , ----, vocal, described, , , ----, ----, how produce tone, , ----, ----, how stretched, ----, ----, in s.c.t.b. voices, ----, ----, size, movement, ----, ----, three actions of, ----, ----, view of, lung gymnastics, lungs described, ----, experiment with calf's, ----, their function, lunn on "coup de glotte", ---- on differences in larynges, , ---- on laryngoscopic views, luschka, and term "vocal chink", ----, how tone is produced, luschka's measurements of larynges, male contralti, ---- soprani, malrespiration, marshall, experiments on animals, merkel on male and female larynges, ---- on pyramids and registers, ---- on tension of ligaments, merkel's terms for registers, meyerbeer and the falsetto, midriff, ---- described, mixed voice, defined, mouth, its part in singing, ----, when to keep it shut, mozart studied voice before composing, mucous membrane, , müller's experiments on larynges , muscles, back ring pyramid, , ---- governing pitch, ----, how to strengthen, ----, ligament tension theory, ----, pyramid, muscles, ring-shield, ----, ----, how change registers, ----, shield-pyramid, ----, shield-pyramid, how change registers, ----, side ring-pyramid, ----, summary of uses of, nasal tone, various theories, nose cavities, nostrils best adapted for breathing, nourrit and duprez, novello, sabilla, how tone is produced, palate, soft, exercising, ----, ----, its movements, paris conservatoire method of inspiration, pharynx, pitch, mechanism affecting, ----, rise of, strains voice, pronunciation for singers, ellis's, pyramids, how act in registers, ----, levers of the, , ----, side view, ----, their shape and motion, , , register, mechanism of thick, ----, thick, described, ----, thin, ", registers, compass of the, ----, teachers' manual on, ----, definition, ----, described by mme. seiler, ----, distinguishing sex, ----, evil of straining, ----, how ligaments act in, ----, how small is formed, ----, how upper thick formed, , ----, images of, , ----, laryngoscope and sub-division of, ----, "mixed voice", ----, optional tones, ----, places of break, , ----, straining of, ----, three female voice, ----, to equalise, not expose, ----, two male voice, ----, upper and lower thick, ----, ---- ---- ---- thin, ----, what laryngoscope teaches, resonator changes by vowel, ----, effect of formation, ----, its parts, , respiration described, ribs, ring cartilage, , ring-shield muscles, , roger, the french tenor's style, , rossini on decline of vocal art, seiler, description of the registers, ----, madame, on "wedges", ---- on action of vocal ligaments, shield and ring, motion of, , shield cartilage, shield plates, , shield-pyramid muscles, singable music, singing _v._ speaking, snoring and keeping mouth open, sphincter muscle of the glottis, spirometer tests recommended, teaching, hints on, tenors as teachers of female voice, ----, short vocal life of, ---- sing octave lower than written, tobold, how tone is produced, tone, how produced, ----, loudness, ----, pitch, ----, quality, ----, three ways of producing, tongue-bone, ----, exercises to control, tonic sol-fa college, experiments, tremolo, controlled artistic, ----, involuntary, ---- mars fine voices, ----, origin of, violin, experiments for tone on a, vocal gymnastics, voce mista, voice-box, attempts to see the, ---- compared with instruments, ----, differences in size, ----, dissecting, , , ----, its parts specified, ---- measurements, ---- movements, teaching of, , ----, visible movements, voice-breaking, cause of, voice, cause of high or low, ---- cultivation exercises, ----, female, wrong use of, voice, period of change in youth, ----, quality of, exercises, ----, poverty of the age, ---- sufferers, cure of, vowel scale, order of the, ----, use of palate in forming, wedges, action in small register, ----, or cuneiform cartilages, , , whispering, voice-box movements in, when to keep the mouth shut, wilson, erasmus, on cuneiform cartilages, windpipe described, , witkowski on "the wedges", ---- on views of specialists, women in church music, words ignored by composers, index to "voice failure." breathing, evils of clavicular, breathing, lamperti on, breathing, wrong, , forcing, forcing, acquiring top notes, intonation affected by resonance, laryngoscope, its lessons, , lung capacity, pronunciation, registers, forcing, , resonators, neglect, , shouting, singing, loud, ,, stammering, symptoms of faulty voice use, throat, inflammation of, timbre, tone, squeezing, vowels, shaping mouth for, vowels, scale of nature, opinions of the press and the medical and the musical professions on the author's book, lectures, and teaching. signor garcia writes to the author:-- dear sir,--very many thanks for the copy forwarded to me of your most interesting work. it will prove of an inestimable advantage to students, being, in my humble estimation, one of the clearest and most practical treatises on the subject which contemporary literature has produced. accept also my sincere thanks for the description contained in your work of the origin of the laryngoscope, and believe me, dear sir, yours most sincerely, m. garcia. the athenÆum. interesting, compared with those previously published, as being written by a musician and not by a medical man. hence we are not surprised to find purely musical questions discussed here with great ability. nature. the object of this little book is to give singers a plain and comprehensible view of the musical instrument on which they perform. the author seems to have succeeded in this attempt remarkably well. he has evidently had much practical work himself, and has especially set himself the task of examining the action of the vocal organs during singing by means of the laryngoscope; and his record of his own experience in acquiring the use of that beautiful instrument is not only interesting, but of much practical value. the last section of the book is devoted to the teachings of the laryngoscope as to the action of the vocal ligaments in producing voice, with especial reference to the so-called registers. "a register consists of a series of tones which are produced by the same mechanism," is his definition (p. ), which is new and complete, and he proceeds to explain the different mechanism of each kind of register as actually observed on singers. there are some good remarks on breathing (pp. - ). all information is given throughout in clear, intelligible language, and illustrated by fourteen woodcuts.... the book may be safely recommended to all singers, and others who are desirous of knowing how vocal tones are produced. saturday review. on the important question of the different registers of the voice and their proper use, mr. behnke practically breaks new ground. he has carefully gone over the whole subject of the production of the voice as far as the larynx is concerned, and worked it out anew by a long and careful series of experiments and observations with the laryngoscope.... mr. behnke's book is clearly written, and the plates well drawn and printed; while the anatomical details are made clear to the general reader by the use of english names for the different parts.... it is a very valuable book, and ought to be read and thought over by all who have the training of young singers, and indeed by all musicians. medical press and circular. in clear and untechnical language the author gives an accurate account of the construction and mode of action of the human larynx, its differences in men, women, and children, and the teachings of the laryngoscope, notably with respect to the "registers" of the voice.... m. behnke is evidently an accurate observer and a logical reasoner, and a study of his work side by side with witkowski's "movable atlas of the throat and tongue" must be advantageous to any one desiring to make the best use of his voice. the specialist. this useful little book is the outcome of the author's large experience and careful research. it is written concisely, in clear and untechnical language, and frequent references are made to such authorities as huxley, lennox browne, eberth, carpenter, marshall, luschka, &c. that herr behnke thoroughly understands his subject no one who reads his book can doubt, and if those who wish to know the right way to sing and avoid the wrong way will carefully study this little manual they will not go far wrong. for all who are dependent on the right use of their voices for their daily bread, herr behnke's book will be most opportune. musical standard. an excellent specimen of a familiar way of putting unfamiliar truths. music trades review. there are excellent reasons why singers should possess an intimate knowledge of the structure and functions of the various organs concerned in the production of the voice, and this knowledge they are likely to gain more easily and effectually from the present treatise than from any other with which we are acquainted. mr. emil behnke writes in a singularly clear and lucid manner, and if his book be not exactly light, it is very interesting reading. much of the information conveyed is invaluable. we cannot too strongly recommend the present volume to the perusal of vocal students. musical education. after carefully reading the book we are at no loss to understand how it is that there is such a demand for it amongst the members of the musical public. the style is admirably simple and lucid, and every statement made is in accordance with the latest views on the subject held by physiologists and anatomists of acknowledged eminence. key board. the most reasonable, practical, and common-sense work to be found anywhere. the voice. this book is clear and plain, and gives just the information that every singer and speaker should have. it is the ablest and most practical treatise on the voice we have seen. the inquirer. men have set themselves to try and ascertain the actual process by which vocal sounds are produced, and thus to form a scientific basis on which to found a way of training voices. herr behnke, in a singularly clear and lucid manner, brings the whole subject before the reader, and, to make it readily understood by non-scientific people, gives a translation of the greek terms used by physiologists side by side with the originals. we cannot too strongly insist upon the necessity of forming a scientific basis for teaching singing, and, indeed, for training the voice for public speaking, &c. we congratulate herr behnke upon the patience and perseverance with which he has pursued his investigations with the laryngoscope. music. mr. emil behnke has already made himself known to the leading members of the musical and medical professions by his learned lectures on "the theory of voice production," and has gained the esteem of those interested in the subject by the masterly manner in which he deals with the matter, as well as his unaffected and, as far as possible, untechnical treatment of it. mr. behnke has done much to popularize the study of the human voice, and his book (which abounds in admirable plates) deserves to be widely known. educational times. it is but rarely that science figures as the handmaid of art, yet this book is a signal instance of it, for it is one of the first attempts, if not the very first, at an investigation, on strictly scientific principles, of the normal and the abnormal development of the voice, both in speaking and singing. herr behnke, who is both a musician and a physiologist, has brought to bear upon this subject his knowledge as a musician, and the results of several years of patient and careful scientific experiments. we cannot too highly commend this little work to the attention of all those interested in so important a subject. birmingham daily gazette. since herr behnke's removal from birmingham to london he has become an accepted authority on the subject of voice production, and we are glad to see the results of his studies presented in the useful way in which they are in this little volume. earnest and conscientious students of the vocal art need not be reminded that the production of fine tone is not the all-in-all of the excellences of singing, but they will certainly know better how to employ their gifts after mastering the secrets herr behnke reveals. opinions of mrs. emil behnke's pupils. voice training. from an old pupil. gresham hotel, dublin. dear mrs. behnke,--it is indeed regrettable that mr. behnke was not spared to reap to a greater extent the reward of his wonderful work. you, i know, must have acquired an adequate knowledge of his magnificent system of teaching to enable you to continue on the same course, and so perpetuate his memory. this is a source of comfort to your many friends. from a lady lecturer. edgbaston, _may th, _. my dear mrs. behnke,--i feel i must write to tell you how much better i am, and how greatly indebted i am to your treatment.... i can take two or three meetings a week with ease, thanks to your training, and the deeper and fuller tone of my voice has been remarked upon by many. larne, ireland. i have no hesitation in saying that, under god, you were the means of curing my voice. from a clergyman who had broken down in voice. london, _july, _. my voice gives me no trouble now; it is indeed very much fuller and more resonant. i can fill my church without the least effort. from a clergyman who had suffered from "clergyman's sore throat." brighton, _ th june, _. dear mrs. behnke,--i take this opportunity of thanking you very much for what you have done for my voice. i shall try to keep up your exercises, and hope to receive more lessons later on in the year. from a clergyman who stammered, and whose voice was weak. "the parsonage," _feb. th, _. dear mrs. behnke,--i told the rev. mr. s. of the great benefit i had derived from your instruction. he proposes to bring the subject of your work, and the importance of it to young clergymen, before the bishop, with a view to something being done for ordination candidates. from a teacher of singing. scarborough, _jan. th, _. dear mrs. behnke,--for some years i have been teaching successfully on the lines laid down in your late husband's publications and his own "voice training exercises;" and have put into the hands of some of my pupils your "voice training primer." one of them has just passed trinity college senior singing examination with honours ( marks out of ). my own experience is that no exercises i have ever used have so helped to produce "forward" and to cure "throaty" tone, and i have long felt i owed to mr. behnke a debt of gratitude for his works. may i be permitted to acknowledge it to you? stammering. the times. pre-eminent success in the education and treatment of stammering and other speech defects. the british medical journal. dr. f. l. nicholls writes:--"this infirmity is so great a drawback to almost every walk in life, and for public speaking so complete a hindrance, that a cure is of the utmost importance. it may therefore be of interest, and possibly of some use to members of the medical profession having a case of this nature in their practice, and desiring assistance for its cure, if i mention that i have recently had the most satisfactory experience of the cure of such a case. the father, a minister, was very anxious for his son to follow in his own footsteps, while the lad stuttered so badly it was not to be thought of, unless a cure could be effected; and for this purpose he was sent to mrs. behnke, of earl's court square, london. mrs. behnke was chosen from high recommendations, and very thoroughly has she proved worthy of them. the lad has just returned home, and speaks without the slightest impediment. i should state that previously to going under mrs. behnke's hands we had tried various rules and recommendations without the least success." "stammering: its nature and treatment." price _s_, of mrs. emil behnke. causes of voice failure. _by mrs. emil behnke._ =third edition, revised and enlarged.= =opinions of the press=. the weekly echo. a very useful pamphlet by a very able teacher. it is published at sixpence, but contains many guinea fees' worth of knowledge, and hints where to procure more. the shrewsbury chronicle. ought to be perused by all who seek distinction as vocalists. bristol times. a valuable little brochure. it is one of the most concise and practical treatises on the subject we have seen, and if only the hints contained therein were more generally observed, we should have not only less voice failure, but more good singers with strong, resonant, and lasting vocal organs. the little book should be in the hands of all singers, students especially. hearth and home. mrs. behnke's pamphlet should be eagerly read. i advise all those who are interested in the preservation of their voices to invest sixpence in the purchase of this admirable booklet, as they cannot fail to gain much assistance from the excellent matter therein contained. halifax guardian. the pamphlet is terse and valuable in the information it affords. the medical press. "causes of voice failure," by mrs. emil behnke, has the merit of being practical and of containing truths which must appeal forcibly not only to singers, but also to listeners. warrington guardian. "causes of voice failure." this important subject is well treated by mrs. emil behnke. the queen. well worth reading for the valuable hints which it contains. the practical teacher. the husband of mrs. behnke was the greatest authority in his day upon voice-training, and, in recommending his wife's book we need only say that her knowledge of this subject is only second to what his was. musical opinion. this is a small, cheap, and useful pamphlet by mrs. emil behnke. the quiet, clear, convincing manner in which she writes deserves full recognition. sussex daily news. "causes of voice failure," by mrs. behnke, is a useful little tract which may be confidently recommended to the notice of singers, professional and amateur, for the sound advice and cautions against common faults of training contained in it. bristol observer. mrs. emil behnke has written a little work on "causes of voice failure" which deserves to be widely circulated among students of singing. it should be carefully read. cambrian. excellent advice is given which must be of great value to those who contemplate adopting the vocal profession either from a pecuniary or from an artistic standpoint. the schoolmaster. mrs. behnke goes to the root of the matter, and her proposals are urged clearly. incidentally she touches on stammering, and we recommend those interested in the subject to give her ideas, at any rate, consideration. the professional world. we would recommend it to all interested in the question of voice production and voice preservation. literary world. the writer of this essay is a well-known expert in her subject. tunbridge wells advertiser. in a concise form mrs. behnke gives some valuable hints that singers would do well to note and pay attention to. west sussex gazette. mrs. behnke was well advised to consent to the publication of this valuable chapter added to the ninth edition of her husband's well-known work, "mechanism of the human voice," and we are glad to note it has already run to a second edition. the behnke voice-training method. =voice-training exercises= =also= =voice-training studies= =by= =emil behnke and dr. c. w. pearce.= _in separate books for soprano, mezzo-soprano, contralto, tenor, baritone, and bass._ price: paper covers, s. d. net cash; bound in cloth, s. net cash. =voice-training primer= =by mrs. emil behnke=. price s. net cash; bound in cloth, s. net cash. _these works are highly recommended by the musical, medical, and general press, and by teachers._ chappell & co., ltd., new bond street, london, w. melbourne and new york. =and may be had of all music-sellers.= =the musical herald.= _a journal for the professor and amateur._ published on the st of each month. price twopence. =the musical herald= was established in ; it is the most widely circulated and read of all the musical papers. =the musical herald= gives no music; it is bought because of the importance of its articles and news. =the musical herald= is indispensable to the up-to-date pianoforte teacher, voice trainer, organist, and choirmaster. =the musical herald= freely replies to questions on musical subjects which are of general interest. in this way one thousand enquiries are answered each year. most of them concern matters that the ordinary text-books and manuals do not touch. =the musical herald= gives each month, in reply to questions, lists of songs, pianoforte and organ pieces, violin pieces, orchestral pieces, choral works, all of which carry its recommendation. =the musical herald= devotes much space to voice training matters. it gathers up opinions and hints from all quarters, favouring no clique; interested only in obtaining good singing. =the musical herald= provides each month a full biography, with portrait, of a leading musician, who relates his experiences and their lessons. =the musical herald= is read all over the world. the compact and newsy quality of its matter, and its broad outlook command attention everywhere. =the musical herald= reports musical doings of importance in france and germany, translating and summarising articles from the european press. =the musical herald= reports papers, speeches and discussions at the various musical societies. =the musical herald=, in its editorials, speaks out plainly, showing neither fear nor favour. =the musical herald= has a prize competition each month on some subject relating to harmony, composition, musical rudiments, or the literature of music. a guinea is given as the first prize. =the musical herald= reports all important choral contests, sending its representatives to any part of great britain or of europe where events of interest are proceeding. =the musical herald= interviews musicians who have things of weight and interest to say. =the musical herald= has correspondents in every district of great and greater britain who supply the pages of "news from all parts." =the musical herald= is invaluable to students preparing for music examinations, because of the help given by its practical articles and answers to enquiries. _published by_ j. curwen & sons ltd., berners street, london, w. =history, biography, church music, &c.= =handbook of acoustics.= by t. f. harris, b.sc., f.c.s. price . d.; postage d. a handbook for musical students. contains chapters profusely illustrated; with numerous questions and an appendix of examination papers. =history of english music=. by henry davey. a monumental work tracing the history and proving the advanced position, past and present, of english music. contains many new and important facts. price s.; postage - / d. =hymn lover, the.= by rev. w. garrett horder, price s.; postage d. second and revised edition. an account of the rise and progress of hymnody. =memorials of john curwen.= by his son, j. spencer curwen. price s.; postage d. =musical haunts in london.= by f. g. edwards. chapters on handel, haydn, mendelssohn, weber, and many other musicians, with stories and pictures of their residences in london. price s.; post. d. =musicians of all times.= compiled by david baptie. second and cheaper edition, s. d.; postage d. concise biography of composers, teachers, artists, and all other musical workers, containing , names. =student's musical history.= by h. davey. price s.; postage - / d.; cloth, s. d.; postage - / d. the cheapest historical handbook; comprehensive, concise, brought up to date. =studies in worship music.= first series. by j. s. curwen. price s.; postage d. contains articles and information on various matters relative to worship music, arranged in three divisions--historical, practical, descriptive. revised and enlarged. =studies in worship music.= second series. by j. s. curwen. price s. d.; postage - / d. continues above work--articles on the chapel royal, westminster abbey choir, &c. =short dictionary of musical terms, a.= by arnold kennedy. m.a. price s. (postage d.); cloth, s. d. (postage - / d.). about , terms. gives the phonetic pronunciation of foreign words. german, french, and italian terms are included. =united praise.= by f. g. edwards. price s. d.; postage d. originally advertised as "common praise." a practical handbook of nonconformist church music. london: j. curwen & sons ltd., berners street, w. standard works on music. =for full list and particulars, apply for catalogue, gratis and post free.= =a b c of musical theory.= r. dunstan, mus.d. cloth, /-. =art of breathing.= leo. kofler. price, cloth, /-. =boy's voice, the.= j. s. curwen. price / . =candidate in music, the.= h. fisher, mus.d. book i, elements, paper, / ; cloth, /-. book ii, harmony, paper, /-; cloth, / . =choral and orchestral societies.= l. c. venables. price / . =church and cathedral chorister's singing method=. haydn keeton, mus.d. cloth, /-; paper, /-. =companion for teachers.= j. spencer curwen. price /-. =compendium of harmony.= geo. oakey, mus.b. price /-. examples in sol-fa only. =construction, tuning, and care of the pianoforte.= edited by h. fisher, mus.d. price, limp cloth, /-. =cyclopÆdic dictionary of music.= r. dunstan, mus.d. cloth / net. =figured bass.= geo. oakey, mus.b. price, limp cloth, /-. =first steps in harmony.= r. dunstan, mus.d. cloth, /-. =handbell ringing.= c. w. fletcher. price / . =handbook of acoustics.= t. f. harris, b.sc., f.c.s., price / . =harmony analysis.= geo. oakey, mus.b. price /-. both notations. =history of english music.= h. davey. price /-. =how to read music.= john curwen. chapters, pp. , price, cloth, / ; paper, /-. =how to teach the staff notation.= e. mason, mus.b. price /-. =how to train children's voices.= t. maskell hardy. price /-. =hymn lover, the.= rev. w. garrett horder. price /-. =manual of music, a.= ralph dunstan, mus.doc. price / . =manual of orchestration.= hamilton clarke, mus.b. with appendix, / . =manual of voice production.= h. j. b. dart. staff, /-. =mechanism of the human voice.= emil behnke. cloth, / ; paper, / . =musical haunts in london.= f. g. edwards. price /-. =musical inspection=. by a school inspector. price / . =musical self-instructor.= j. sneddon, mus.b. price / . both notations. =musical theory.= john curwen. price / . in parts--i, ii, iv, d. each; iii, / ; v, /-. both notations. =musicians of all times.= compiled by w. g. w. goodworth, mus.b. price / . =musician, the.= ridley prentice. six grades, / each. =new graded harmony exercises.= geo. oakey, mus.b. price /-, cloth. =psychology for music teachers.= h. fisher, mus.d. cloth, /-. =orchestra, the, and how to write for it.= f. corder. price / . =organs, organists, and choirs.= e. minshall. price / . =pianist's mentor.= h. fisher, mus.d. price / . =playing at sight.= r. t. white, mus.d. oxon. price / . =primer of elocution.= f. harrison, m.a. price / . =pronunciation for singers.= a. j. ellis, f.r.s. price / . =school music teacher, the.= j. evans and w. g. mcnaught. price / . =short dictionary of musical terms.= a. kennedy, m.a. price /-; cloth, / . =singer's guide.= j. adcock. price /-. =singing in elementary schools.= a. watkins. cloth, /-. =solo singer.= sinclair dunn. price /-. =speaking voice.= mrs. emil behnke. price / . =specimen lessons on the tonic sol-fa method.= edited by j. spencer curwen. cloth limp, / . =standard course, the.= j. curwen. price / . =student's musical history.= henry davey. price /-; cloth, / . =studies in worship music.= j. spencer curwen. st series, /-; nd series, / . =teacher's manual, the.= john curwen. price /-. =text-book of counterpoint.= geo. oakey, mus.b. price /-. cloth. both nots. =text-book of harmony.= geo. oakey, mus.b. price /-. both notations. =text-book of musical elements.= geo. oakey, mus.b. paper /-; cloth, / . =training college music course.= b. mills, mus.b. price /-. =united praise=. f. g. edwards. price / . =voice production in singing and speaking=. wesley mills, m.a., f.r.c.s. price / net (no reduction). =voice trainer, the.= j. a. birch. both notations, /-. =london: j. curwen & sons ltd., berners street, w.= footnotes: [a] "the mechanism of voice, speech, and taste." translated and edited by mr. lennox browne, f.r.c.s. london: baillière, tindall, and cox. [b] it having been proved to mr. behnke that the use of the term "_abdominal_" instead of "_diaphragmatic_" breathing led to misconception and misrepresentation of his views on this important subject, he discarded the words "abdominal breathing" and used only the term "diaphragmatic breathing" in his teaching and writing. will readers kindly bear this in mind?--k. b. [c] "medical hints on the production and management of the singing voice," fifth edition, p. . london: chappell and co. [d] only for the purpose of ascertaining the capacity of the lungs _before_ commencing the exercises, and the gain acquired after some weeks of regular work. [e] "the throat and its diseases," pp. , . london: baillière, tindall, and cox. [f] "the throat and its functions." new york: g. p. putnam's sons. [g] _sphincter_ is an anatomical term applied to circular muscles which constrict or close certain natural orifices. [h] "ueber die compensation der physischen kräfte am menschlichen stimmorgan," p. . berlin, . [i] "voice in singing," p. . philadelphia, . [j] "anatomist's vade mecum." by erasmus wilson, f.r.s. london. eighth edition, p. . [k] helmholtz, "sensations of tone:" translated by alexander j. ellis, f.r.s., &c., p. . [l] "philosophy of voice," nd edition, p. . baillière, tindall, and cox. [m] a "laryngo-phantom" has recently been brought out by dr. isenschmid of munich, which greatly facilitates this preliminary practice. it consists of an imitation of the throat, the larynx, and the mouth, and "is intended to familiarize students with as many of the details connected with the use of the laryngoscope as it is possible to learn before the application of the instrument to the living subject." a number of little paintings representing different laryngoscopic appearances may be slipped into this phantom, unknown to the student, who has to discover what has been done by the usual process. this apparatus can therefore be strongly recommended as affording excellent and constant practice. it may be had of messrs. krohne & sesemann, , duke street, manchester square, w., price £ s. [n] "der kehlkopf," p. . leipzig, . j. j. weber.