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 mediaeval 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 $100.00 a week, notwithstanding
his years of study and preparation, while Harry Lauder,
the Scotch comedian, could get $1000 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, Plancon, Sims Reeves, Schumann-Heink,
Garden, Dr. Wuellner, 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 Ffrangcon 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 1877, 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 1600, 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 1723, and the Reflessioni pratichi
sul Canto figurato, published in 1776, 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 (1805-1906),
who invented the laryngoscope in 1855, 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 debut 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.