Style in Singing.

by W. E. Haslam.

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 aesthetic 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 pa.s.sage 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 pa.s.sage _always_ in the same way? Unreflecting people may reply vaguely that it was because the artist "sang with expression." But what const.i.tutes "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."

CHAPTER I

ELEMENTS OF VOCAL TRAINING

If the practical education of the singer be a.n.a.lyzed, it will be found to comprise four fundamental elements:

(1) POSE: or Emission of voice;

(2) TECHNIQUE: or the discipline of the voice considered as a musical instrument;

(3) STYLE: or the application of the laws of artistic taste to the interpretation of vocal music;

(4) RePERTOIRE: 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 cla.s.sed 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 Repertoire 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 a.s.signed 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 compa.s.s, 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 Cla.s.sification, 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 Cla.s.sification 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-caractere_). 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 Cla.s.sification and Production be entrusted--as is often the case--to a.s.sistants, usually accompanists, lacking the necessary training for a work requiring great experience and ripe judgment. To a competent a.s.sistant 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 compa.s.s 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 compa.s.s, 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 compa.s.s 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 aesthetic studies of Style and Repertoire. All the really great and ill.u.s.trious 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 debutant when he presents himself before the public in a s.p.a.cious 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 princ.i.p.ally 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 compa.s.s 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 a.n.a.logous line of reasoning.

Without an appreciable amount of _agilita_, the performance of modern music is laboured and heavy; that of the cla.s.sics, 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 _metier_, 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 connait son metier_" (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 pa.s.sage 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 a.s.signed the strong tenor (_fort tenor_) roles, can sing the higher tones of their compa.s.s only in _forte_, and with full voice. Thus an additional and very charming effect is lost to them. Yet Adolphe Nourrit, who created the role of Raol in _Les Huguenots_, sang, it is said, the phrase as written. The late Italo Campanini, Sims Reeves, and the famous Spanish tenor Gayarre, 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 apt.i.tude 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 _agilita_, 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 aesthetic studies in Taste and the research for what dramatic authors call "the Science of Effect,"