Part 3

As to the voices of the different nations with which I am familiar, it is a difficult and thankless task to summarise them within the inadequate limit of a few lines. I should say, however, that the voices of Italy are the most natural. They are the voices of the sun; just as in my native land, Australia, the Italy of the southern hemisphere, the voices seem to glint and vibrate as it with liquid sunlight. There is in these Southern voices a resonance rarely found in voices of the North.

As to Germany, I should say that the singing voices are more the result of science than of nature--less buoyant, less responsive, yet superb in their own way. The great singers of France, to my mind, could be more accurately described as great _diseurs_, so exquisitely are they practised in the art of diction. No singers so effectively show the beauty or importance of the words sung.

The cosmopolitan conditions of America seem to me to have so far militated against the development of any particular voice or school that could be accurately labelled "American," while the English voices are particularly adapted for concert and oratorio singing.

Owing to the characteristic reserve of the English people, they are, as a rule, slow to commit themselves to that temperamental abandon which is essential to operatic interpretation. I am, however, glad to be able to say without any reserve that I consider the English choruses the finest in the world. I refer more specially to the great choirs heard at the English musical festivals. What volume and beauty of tone, what precision and light and shade, are embodied in their work! Personally, if I can be said to dislike any form of music, it is oratorio; but when I hear an English chorus at a festival in Birmingham, Leeds, Bristol, or Worcester, I am almost persuaded to become an oratorio enthusiast.

This paper would not be complete without some reference to personal appearance as an asset in a singer's career. There is much suggestion, expression even, in the turn of a curl. The woman who knows how to "make up" effectively is more of an artist than the one who does not. The whole thing makes for artistic completeness.

I have known handsome women appear unattractive on the stage or platform merely because they relied entirely on their natural physical gifts without considering how these were affected by the space, and structural and lighting conditions, of the building in which they sang. There are cases where good looks are the main reason for the exploitation of a singer; but such favour is bound to be short-lived, and no artistic reputation can be long maintained on so false a basis.

As to securing an introduction to the public, I have little to say beyond the fact that ability will surely find its way. In my own path great obstacles were placed, but I do not think anything in this world could have hindered me from becoming a singer. I have sung to an audience of two, and such was my girlish enthusiasm that I have even acted as my own billposter, with a pot of paste procured from a hotel kitchen. The occasion was a chanty concert at an Australian seaside resort for the purpose of repairing a neglected country cemetery. Later I had to abandon proposed concerts because there was not enough support to pay for the lighting of the hall. Yet I persevered, and my chance came. It is well to aim at the highest, yet in my heart of hearts I believe that every really great singer is born rather than made.

No teacher living can impart temperament and an infallible ear for music. A perfect chest, larynx, and resonance chambers are also gifts of God; and so, too, are the musical intuition, the ravishing voice, the industry, the ambition, and the perfect physical health, which are all attributes of vocalists who have become really great.

But below that heavenly gifted circle there are many niches which should be filled, not by casual observers, but by qualified musicians, to whom hard and patient work has brought attainments second only to those fortunate creatures who have sprung into the musical arena, like Minerva, fully equipped.

*HINTS ON THE CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE.*

*By ENRICO CARUSO.*

It has often struck me, in a lengthy experience as a singer, that there is one point in particular about the human voice which is far too little appreciated by the rising generation of aspiring vocalists, and that is its wonderful reciprocity. Tend it, nurse it, "feed it on a proper diet," and it will invariably comport itself in the most amiable manner possible. But neglect it, treat it as an organ which is best left to look after itself, and the voice will at once, in revenge for this callous behaviour, retaliate by behaving itself in a manner which is perhaps best described as of the "hooliganistic" order.

And yet, as an actual fact, but a very small percentage indeed of would-be singers ever really seem to think it worth their while to bear in mind this axiom, for axiom it surely is, that the voice requires proper care and proper exercise to keep it in its best form just as much as is a certain amount of exercise necessary to the maintenance of good health in every human being.

Unfortunately, however, there would seem to be a prevalent impression among many amateur and not a few professional singers that singing is an art which can be acquired in quite a short time. Thus, is it not curious that while many students of the piano or the violin will willingly devote years of strenuous and conscientious practice to the study of the technique of these instruments, would-be singers frequently seem to expect to learn how to use their voice to the best advantage after a period of vocal practice extending, maybe, over a year or so, but more often even over only a few months? This policy, I need scarcely remark, is absolutely ruinous to the future careers of young singers, for no matter how naturally talented any individual vocalist may be, he or she cannot possibly produce the best results as a singer unless the particular organs brought into play in the process of singing have been subjected to a proper and sufficiently long course of training. Since the days of the old Italian masters there can be no shadow of doubt that, musically, we have advanced considerably; but sometimes, when I think of the rather slipshod methods of cultivating the voice advocated by many so-called "professors" to-day, the thought impresses itself on my mind that the detailed principles of the old Italian masters who, above all other considerations, insisted on a long course of voice training as being the only possible means to the attainment of the best art, possessed more to recommend them than do many of the modern "artifices" of voice-cultivation proffered by many teachers of singing to-day.

In a short article, of course, it is obviously impossible to go in detail into all the rules which should be observed by singers who are prepared to undertake the task of cultivating their voices on a conscientious and sound basis. At the same time, I hope to be able to suggest various hints and wrinkles which should prove of real value to aspiring singers.

In the first place, therefore, let me say at once that it is the most fatal of all errors for a singer to make too much use of the voice, for the muscles of the larynx are so delicate that they cannot possibly stand the strain of the "learn-to-sing-in-a-hurry" methods of those who hope to attain the highest point of proficiency without devoting sufficient time to that "drudgery" which is absolutely essential to the real and perfect cultivation of the voice.

For this all-important reason I would counsel singers to see to it at all times that in the early days of their training they do not devote too much time to practice. If they will take my advice, until they become thoroughly proficient in "managing" the voice--a happy state of affairs which can only be acquired after long practice--they will at first never devote more than fifteen minutes a day--in the early morning is, perhaps, the best time--to practice. I can readily realise that this must seem a very short time to enthusiasts who are willing to give up all their spare time to the study of voice cultivation, but it is, nevertheless, quite long enough, for the slightest strain put upon the voice may retard a singer's progress by months, while, on the other hand, as I pointed out at the beginning of this article, if the singer will only bear in mind that the voice requires the most careful "nursing" of perhaps all the organs, and must on no account be strained, he will soon find that, though he may not be aware of any improvement in it, his voice is, nevertheless, slowly but surely improving and gaining in strength through his gradually-growing knowledge of technique.

Another point in the cultivation of the voice which I often think is not sufficiently strongly emphasised to-day is the fact that young singers can improve their methods in the most extraordinarily rapid manner by studying the methods of other and more experienced singers. In singing, as in the cultivation of the other arts, in time the student will get what he works for, but it is surely unreasonable for him to expect to sing effectively by his own inspiration. He will be wise, therefore, to seize every opportunity of studying as closely as possible the methods of those who have thoroughly mastered the technique of singing. For true art, of course, there must be more than technique, but I would point out that in singing there is no art without sound methods of execution, which, after all, to all intents and purposes constitute technique. In the cultivation of expression, technique, and sympathy in the voice, there is no better teacher than "a visit to the opera." Still, I make no doubt that of the hundreds of aspiring singers who visit the opera during the season but very few indeed would care to go through the years of drudgery as conscientiously as have those who seem to sing so easily and to combine the art of acting and singing at the same time with equal facility. After all, the highest art lies in the concealment of that art, and I take it that it is because a really proficient opera singer accomplishes his performance with such apparent ease that the difficulties of operatic singing are so little appreciated.

Still, as I have said, I am strongly of the opinion that young singers can learn much from studying the methods of operatic vocalists, that is to say, when they have mastered the rudiments of voice cultivation, into which I need not enter here, for my object is rather to show singers various methods by which they can attain the highest art when they have served a sufficient apprenticeship under masters whose duty it is to teach them the elementary rules of singing.

For my own part, I find that a singer's life, with its constant rehearsals and performances, is such a busy one that not much opportunity is allowed him for indulging in outdoor exercise. Many other enthusiastic singers doubtless find themselves situated in very similar straits, not perhaps on account of their public engagements, but through the "calls" made upon their time by business, social, or domestic duties. In the cultivation of the voice, however, a certain amount of exercise is essential to good health, as, by the same token, is good health a _sine qua non_ to the attainment of the highest art in singing. It may be of service, therefore, if I explain the rules I observe when I find the calls upon my time too numerous to enable me to get as much exercise as I should otherwise like.

No matter how busy I am, when I rise in the morning I invariably indulge in a few simple physical exercises, similar in character to those I used to practise when, as a young man, the time came for me to serve my king and country as a _soldato_, or, if I feel that these are becoming monotonous, for a few minutes I find practice with a pair of dumb-bells--not too heavy, by the way--very beneficial. But save these mild forms of relaxation I have, as a rule, to rest content with, in the way of outdoor exercise, an occasional motor drive. Nevertheless, I would point out that, in itself, singing, with its constant deep inhalation, is by no means inconsiderable exercise, though, to be sure, I am well aware that it cannot be so health-giving in its effects as actual exercise in the open air.

Yes, past a doubt, young singers can learn much about the highest art of the cultivation of the voice from watching the knowledge of technique of our best operatic artists, and from observing their methods of "managing" the voice. Still, to thoroughly grasp the progress of the opera-singer's art, it will be necessary for students to appreciate the fact that Italian singing has had two important culminating periods, each of which was illustrated by a group of great singers, the first of which was made up of pupils of Bernacchi, Pistocchi, Francesca Cuzzoni, and other contemporary teachers. These great singers brought the art of _bel canto_ to as near a state of perfection as has ever been known. But one has to remember the conditions under which they sang.

Thus Victor Maurel writes:--"In the days of the schools of the art of _bel canto_ the masters did not have to take truth for expression (_l'expression juste_) into account, for the singer was not required to render the sentiments of the _dramatis personae_ with verisimilitude; all that was demanded of him was harmonious sounds, the _bel canto_." In other words, all that the singer had to do was to sing, for the emotions themselves had not to be portrayed, the psychical character of the _dramatis personae_ not being taken into account.

In consequence, the perfection of the singer's voice was but slightly interfered with, as, at most, he had little or no acting to do, a conventional oratorical gesture or two being considered quite sufficient for the fashion of the period. And it is scarcely necessary to remark that the great singers of this period were skilful enough musicians to prevent such unimportant gestures, which hardly deserve the dignity of the name of acting, from being an obstacle to the high quality of their singing.

In the second period of Italian singing, however, the period which coincides with the Rossini-Donizetti-Bellini period of opera in its heydey, the conditions, we find, were greatly altered. The music at this time was at once more dramatic and more scenic, and although the singing was still _bel canto_, the opera singer of the period was called upon not only to sing well, but to sing dramatically, though it must be said that the music itself provided larger scope for the actor's art, in that it gave more favourable opportunity for specialising and differentiating the emotions.

In "The Opera Past and Present" we find the following intensely interesting allusion to these two great culminating periods of Italian singing:--"A comparison of these two periods of Italian singing indicates the direction matters have taken with the opera singer from Handel's time to our own. From then to now he has had to face an ever-increasing accumulation of untoward conditions; his professional work has become more and more complicated. From Rossini's time down to this the purely musical difficulties he has had to face have been constantly on the increase--complexity of musical structure, rhythmic complications, hazardous intonations.

"He has to fight against the more and more brilliant style of instrumentation, often pushed to a point where the greatest stress of vocal effort is required of him to make himself heard above the orchestral din; more and better acting is demanded of him, he finds the vague generalities of histrionism no longer of avail; for these must make way for a highly specialised, real-seeming dramatic impersonation; intellectually and physically his task has been doubled and trebled. Above all, the sheer nervous tension of situations and music has so increased as to make due self-control on his part less easy. The opera singer's position to-day is verily no joke; he has to face and conquer difficulties such as the great _bel cantists_ of the Handel period never dreamt of."

It has ever been my contention that the conscientious artist should carefully read and re-read the whole libretto, so as to inform himself of the poet's purpose and meaning in the construction and development of the plot, as well as to ever bear in mind his conception of the composer's idea of how the poetry and the various aspects of mind of the characters should be aptly and effectively musicked and interpreted so as to awaken a kindred, or appreciative, feeling in the minds of his hearers.

Besides this, the opera singer who aspires to rise to great heights must possess a keen nervous susceptibility, for only a man or woman of high nervous temperament can reasonably hope to succeed as a lyrico-dramatic artist. Again, in the great operas a most severe strain is placed upon the leading singers, for while they are portraying various emotions---Love, Hate, Rage, or Laughter--they have, at the same time, to watch the conductor with most minute care lest they fail in time and rhythm.

In fine, though I think but few other than really conscientious students of singing entirely appreciate the fact, the opera-singer of to-day is called upon to possess a far greater knowledge of vocal technique than was ever demanded of him before in the history of singing, as those "good and golden days"--golden only to the moderate performer with but little ambition--when the singer who perhaps scarcely knew more than a few notes of music could, nevertheless, still arouse the plaudits of the public are gone--never to return.

I hope, by the way, that it will not be thought that I have entered too technically into the requirements demanded from an aspirant to operatic fame to-day. I scarcely think, however, that I can have done so, for I feel sure every really aspiring vocalist would prefer to know the exact heights to which he must cultivate his voice either on the operatic stage or concert platform, or even for the drawing-room, that is to say, if he is ever to make a great name for himself in preference to resting content to remain one of the "moderates," of which the musical profession is altogether already too full, not because there is a lack of singers with good voices, but largely, as I have always maintained, because there is a far too prevalent tendency amongst singers these days to shirk the real hard work which must be accomplished before lasting success can be attained.

In conclusion, in order to allow singers' voices to develop in a satisfactory manner, let me counsel them never to attempt those selections in public the range of which taxes and strains them to the utmost, for when a singer "exceeds" his proper range injury to the throat is always liable to follow. Better rather, therefore, is it that a song should be transposed to a lower key if a singer is determined to attempt it than that the voice should be unduly taxed.

And now I will say _addio_, though I would add that it is my sincere hope that some of the few hints I have given on the cultivation of the voice and of the heights of excellence to which ambitious singers should aspire may prove of real value to those with sufficient pluck to face the task of studying the art of the cultivation of the voice in a really conscientious manner. Hard work accomplishes wonders where the voice is concerned. Let me, therefore, counsel singers never to despair of attaining a state as near to perfection as possible, for it is those who are most alive to their own imperfections who will assuredly "go farthest" in the singing world.

*HOW TO ATTAIN SUCCESS IN SINGING.*

*By BEN DAVIES.*

To a certain extent it must be admitted at once that it is undoubtedly true that there is no royal, infallible road to success in the acquirement of perfect mastery over any art. At the same time, however, I would lay particular stress on the fact that it is equally true that there are not a few hints and wrinkles which, if studiously borne in mind and practised, must inevitably prove of real value to all who will apply themselves to these said words of advice in a thoroughly whole-hearted manner.

And, in particular, this somewhat trite aphorism applies with great force to the art of learning to sing, for the human voice, as every conscientious student of music must be well aware, is an exceptionally responsive organ. Neglect it, and it will assuredly "run to seed"; tend it carefully, cultivate it in a common-sense manner, give it time to "grow up," and it will reward you for your pains a hundredfold.

Let me, therefore, try and give a few hints based on an experience extending over more years than I sometimes care to think about, which I trust will prove of real value to aspiring singers. I have already said that there is no royal road to success in the art of learning to sing, but, nevertheless, the possessor of a moderate voice can improve his or her voice in a most gratifying manner by studying in the right way. Bad habits in singing are peculiarly difficult to rid oneself of; it is well to avoid the risk of acquiring those bad habits by setting out on the right road at once. And having started, push forward with unfailing energy and courage.

In the first place I would counsel the ambitious singer, before proceeding with the development of the voice to ascertain its real character and quality. Thus, some voices, to the ear of the trained expert, although they may be actually untrained and undeveloped, nevertheless possess a decided and marked quality when still uncultivated, while, on the other hand, there are other voices whose positive nature it is far from easy to determine. I would therefore emphasise the fact that it is not upon its range and extent that the real character of any individual voice depends, but rather upon its quality and timbre.

I would lay stress, too, on another point--namely, that the real power of expression is found in the middle quality of every voice, and that it is not force which tends to make this middle quality full and resonant, but the cultivated ease and steadiness by which the vocal sounds are produced and sustained. There is nothing more painful to the ear of an expert musician than to hear a singer forcing his voice in an effort to produce an effect of expansion and vibration. Would-be artistic singers should thus nurse their voices with unfailing care, for ease and steadiness are infinitely more artistic than forcing the voice.

I will not here enter into the question of what particular exercises the student should follow in his or her early days, for such matters are too elementary a kind and can safely be trusted to any competent teacher. At the same time I would point out that the careful vocal student will be wise to adopt the style of music best adapted to his or her voice, for, obvious though this point should be, it is none the less true that many singers overlook the fact that to give the voice an adequate chance of developing it should be cultivated and "fed" upon the particular style of music for which Nature would seem to have given it birth.