CHAPTER XXIII

PRACTISING

Is it necessary to say that daily practice is indispensable to the student--as it is also to the finished artist? A celebrated violinist used to say, “If I cease practising for one day I know it when I next play; if for two days my enemies know it; if for three the public know it.” It is the same with the voice, although some voices, no doubt, require less daily exercising than others.

Some fortunate ones, indeed, have been able to dispense with it almost entirely. On the day of a performance the great Chaliapine warms his voice up for a period of thirty or forty minutes only. On other days and when on vacation he rarely practises, except for getting up new music, and even this is more of a mental process. It is said of Mario also that at the height of his fame he never practised more than ten minutes a day, and that just before he was leaving for the Opera House, while his servant would be standing, watch in hand, assuring him that he would be late for the performance if he did not start at once. But that, of course, was an exceptional case.

On the other hand, Battistini is most lavish with his practising and rarely a day passes that he does not put in one or two hours of solid singing. This no doubt accounts for the extraordinary command he has over tone, phrasing and breathing. There is great truth in the saying that practice makes perfect, but how many of us have the robust and natural organ that Battistini is blessed with. I always thought that the reason of this was the fact that Battistini, who could well have trained as a tenor, elected to become a baritone, thus evading the strain of forcing high “C’s” out of his voice.

At the same time even practising should not be carried to excess. Many singers have, indeed, often done their voices great harm by practising too much. The vocal cords are exceedingly delicate and cannot be used too carefully. There can be no doubt that the wonderful preservation of Patti’s voice was due in large measure to the extraordinary prudence and care with which she husbanded it. By never singing at rehearsals, by never singing when she was in the least degree out of health or tired, and so on, she added years probably to the length of her career. And all singers should act as far as possible on the same principle.

There should never be the smallest strain in practising, for instance. For this reason it is advisable to practise with the half voice mostly and only rarely at the extremities of the compass--and then with great care and discretion. In the same way there should never be any sense of fatigue, still less of hoarseness, after practice.

It is, indeed, in the ordinary way a sure sign that something is wrong, either with your vocal organs or with your methods, if this occurs often, and the matter should be investigated accordingly--even to the extent of changing your teacher if necessary.

If, however, the trouble is only temporary, a brief suspension of exercising may be all that is necessary. But in this case be careful not to resume your practising until the trouble has completely disappeared. Far better drop your practising for a week, or a month, if necessary, than attempt to sing when your organs are not in perfect order.

That is to say, if there is really definite trouble. If, on the other hand, it is merely a little hoarseness, such as many singers are subject to, then _judicious_ exercising--please notice that I emphasise judicious--may be the best thing for it. This is, however, essentially a matter upon which you must be guided by your teacher--or even if necessary by a doctor.

Madame Lilli Lehmann prescribes, for instance, what she calls the Great Scale as an invaluable remedy for all manner of vocal ills--meaning simply long slow scales of sustained notes steadily repeated. Here is what she said, for instance, on this point:

“The great scale properly employed in practice accomplishes wonders. It equalises the voice, makes it flexible and noble, gives strength to all weak places, operates to repair all breaks and faults that exist, and controls the voice to the very heart. Nothing escapes it. It is the Guardian Angel of the voice. I sing it every day, often twice, even if I have to sing one of my greatest rôles in the evening. I can rely absolutely on its assistance.”

And, as I have said, she prescribed this very exercise not only for daily practice when one is well, but also as a remedy for troubles when the voice is out of order. I may be permitted, perhaps, to quote in this connection another interesting passage:

“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 invaluable remedy, but could not sing above A flat, although 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 be so desperate. Nevertheless, I practised till 11 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 so that people said they had seldom heard me sing so well.”

I have quoted this advice of Lilli Lehmann because it is of interest and value as coming from so great an authority, but I do not wish it to be understood that this has been my own precise practice, for this is not the case. But as to the general value of scales for practising purposes there is, of course, no possible doubt. Scales are, indeed, the foundation of all useful practice, especially at first.

Marchesi, for instance, relied on them almost exclusively in the earlier stages--long sustained tones, repeated again and again until her fastidious ear was satisfied; and no pupil can possibly fail to benefit from such exercise. Even for the acquisition of velocity, as I have said elsewhere, scales--and quite slow ones at first--are indispensable.

Of more elaborate exercises there are none better, so far as I know, than those to be found in Concone, while for advanced pupils well-chosen numbers from the great Italian operatic masters, Rossini, Donizetti, Bellini, and the rest, can be utilised with great advantage. This includes mezzo-sopranos, contraltos, as well as sopranos. My maestro would make them all sing “Una voce poco fa” transposed, saying that it was a vocal massage.

But it is rather a matter for the individual teacher to prescribe what is required in this way, since all voices will not need the same.

As to the period and duration of practising, my own plan is to practise twice a day--at ten in the morning for an hour, with intervals of rest; and again in the afternoon, before dinner, for the same time. But the beginner should not practise for more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time, and should leave off immediately his voice begins to feel tired.

To which, I would add, that it is of the utmost importance not only what one practises but _how_. Ten minutes’ practice with the maximum of thought and concentration will be of more value than a whole hour of mere mechanical scales and arpeggi, sung without thought and care.

The pupil, while practising, should listen to himself with the utmost vigilance all the time--criticising ruthlessly every tone, and seeking always to eradicate every fault and blemish. It is for lack of this _mental_ effort that pupils so often practise in vain--improving themselves in certain respects perhaps, but never acquiring that beauty of tone and perfection of execution which should be the foundation of all.

I would repeat here, indeed, what I have said before, that unsparing self-criticism is the root of all progress. Nor should this ever cease. As a great artist remarked in some words which I quoted earlier, the true artist will continue studying and practising and improving to the end of his day.

Read, for instance, what Signor Fucito tells us of Caruso:

“No one could have been a severer critic of Caruso’s art than Caruso himself. He worked with tremendous concentration, and his acute ear was ever ready to descry the slightest flaw in the tone production, in quality or the interpretation of a musical passage.”

And again:

“There were times when he refused to rest, singing a passage or phrase over and over again, each time with another vocal modulation of colouring until he got the expression and quality that satisfied his exacting musical taste.”

It is interesting to note, by the way, that Caruso practised always, or nearly always, with the full voice--a procedure which is not, however, as I have already said, to be generally recommended.

Incidentally in practising the student should avoid the acquisition of bad habits of standing, undesirable movements with the hands, and so on, and should also keep careful check upon his facial expressions. For the latter purpose it is an excellent plan to practise before a mirror, since this is the surest way to avoid the unconscious cultivation of undesirable tricks which, once they have been acquired, may prove most difficult to get rid of.

In the case of operatic artists it is a good plan also to practise in costume in order to become accustomed to the dress which one will be wearing in the actual performance, and thus to avoid any sense of awkwardness which may be otherwise experienced. And for the same reason when any particular number has to be sung in any special manner from the physical point of view, as, for instance, sitting down, or kneeling, it is well to become accustomed to this also beforehand.