Part 7

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 debut in 1899. 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.

ANDREAS DIPPEL

BIOGRAPHICAL

Andreas Dippel was born at Cassel, 1866. 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 1887 he made his debut at Bremen, in _The Flying Dutchman_. He remained with that company until 1892. 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 1893 to 1898 he was a member of the Imperial Court Opera at Vienna. In 1898 he returned to America to the Metropolitan. In 1908 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 150 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 60 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 roles 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 role 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 roles 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 Boheme_ 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 roles 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 roles 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 roles. She should start with the simpler roles; such as those of some of the lesser parts in the old Italian operas. Then, she may essay the leading roles of, let us say, _Traviata_, _Barber of Seville_, _Norma_, _Faust_, _Romeo and Juliet_, and _Carmen_.

Instead of simple roles, 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 role 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 role, 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 debut 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.

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 Eugene 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.