Chapter 8

"You speak of the responsibility of choosing a good and reliable vocal instructor. This is indeed a difficult task, because each teacher is fully persuaded that his method is the only correct one. But there are so _many teachers_, and some of them do not even sing themselves at all. Can you imagine a vocal teacher who cannot sing himself, who is so to say voiceless, unable to demonstrate what he teaches? A piano or violin teacher must play his instrument, or he will not be able to show the pupils how it ought to be done. But the vocal teacher thinks to instruct without demonstrating what he is trying to impart.

BEGINNING VOCAL STUDY WITH OPERA

"So I did not begin my studies with a regular vocal teacher, but with a dilettante--I do not know just how you say that in English. This gentleman was not a professional; he was a business man who at the same time was a good musician. Instead of starting me with a lot of scales and exercises, we began at once with the operas. I was twelve years old when I began, and after one year of this kind of study, made my début in the rôle of Inez, in _L'Africaine_. About this time I lost my kind instructor, who passed away. I then worked by myself until I was sixteen, when I began to study technic systematically. As you see, then, I am practically self-taught. It seems to me, if one has voice and intelligence, one can and should be one's own teacher. No one else can do as much for you as you can do for yourself. You can tell what the sensations are, what parts are relaxed and what parts are firm, better than any one else. You can listen and work on tone quality until it reaches the effect you desire. I do not neglect vocal technic now, for I know its value. I do about three quarters of an hour technical practice every day--scales and exercises.

MEMORIZING

"I memorize very easily; it only takes a few weeks to learn an operatic rôle. I spent three weeks on _Coq d'Or_, and that is a difficult part, so many half tones and accidentals. But I love that music, it is so beautiful; it is one of my favorite rôles. Some parts are longer and more difficult than others. Of course I know most of the Italian operas and many French ones. I should like to sing _Mireille_ and _Lakmé_ here, but the Director may wish to put on other works instead.

SPANISH OPERA

"Yes, we have native opera in Spain, but the works of our operatic composers are little known in other lands. The Spanish people are clannish, you see, and seem to lack the ambition to travel abroad to make their art known to others; they are satisfied to make it known to their own people. Casals and I--we are perhaps the ones who regularly visit you, though you have several Spanish singers in the opera who reside here permanently.

"As for Spanish composers of instrumental music, you are here somewhat familiar with the names of Grovelez and Albeniz; Granados you know also, both his opera, _Goyescas_, which was performed at the Metropolitan, and his personality. He came to America to witness the premier of his opera, and while here proved he was a most excellent pianist as well as a composer of high merit, which fact was revealed in his piano and vocal compositions. The American people were most kind and appreciative to him. When the disaster came and he was lost at sea, the testimonial they sent his orphaned children was a goodly sum, though I hardly think the children appreciated your goodness.

"Among the composers in Spain who have turned their gifts toward operatic channels I can mention Pedrell, Morea, Falla, Vives and Breton. Vives is now writing an opera for me, entitled _Abanico_. Gradually, no doubt, the music of our country, especially its opera, will find its way to other lands. Even in England, I am told, Spanish music is very little known; our many distinguished modern musicians are hardly even names. Of course the world knows our Toreador songs, our castanet dances, and the like; perhaps they think we have little or no serious music, because it is still unknown. Spanish music is peculiar to the country; it is permeated with the national spirit and feeling."

Asked if she would sing in South America during the vacation, the singer answered:

"I have sung there with great success. But I shall not be able to go there this summer. My little boy has been placed in a school in France; it is the first time we have been separated, and it has been very hard for me to have the ocean between us. I shall sing at Atlanta, the first week of May, and then sail the middle of the month for France. Yes, indeed, I hope to return to America next season.

"I trust you have been able to understand my poor English," she said smiling, as she parted with her visitor; "we speak several languages here in my home--Spanish with my mother and friends, French and Italian with others in the household. But there seems little necessity for using English, even though I am living in the heart of the metropolis. Perhaps next year, I shall master your language better."

And the picture of her, as she stood in her artistic, home-like salon, with its lights, its pictures and flowers, is even more lasting than any to be remembered on the operatic stage.

XVI

=CLAUDIA MUZIO=

A CHILD OF THE OPERA

In tales of romance one reads sometimes of a gifted girl who lives in a musical atmosphere all her life, imbibing artistic influences as naturally and almost as unconsciously as the air she breathes. At the right moment, she suddenly comes out into the light and blossoms into a full fledged singer, to the surprise and wonder of all her friends. Or she is brought up behind the scenes in some great Opera House of the world, where, all unnoticed by her elders, she lives in a dream world of her own, peopled by the various characters in the operas to which she daily listens. She watches the stage so closely and constantly that she unconsciously commits the rôles of the heroines she most admires, to memory. She knows what they sing, how they act the various parts, how they impersonate the characters. Again, at the right moment, the leading prima donna is indisposed, there is no one to take her place; manager is in despair, when the slip of a girl, who is known to have a voice, but has never sung in opera, offers to go on in place of the absent one. She is finally permitted to do so; result, a popular success.

Some pages of Claudia Muzio's musical story read like the romantic experiences of a novel-heroine. She, too, was brought up in great opera houses, and it seemed natural, that in due course of time, she should come into her own, in the greatest lyric theater of the land of her adoption.

When she returned to America, a couple of years ago, after gaining experience in Europe, she arrived toward the end of the season preceding her scheduled début here, to prepare herself more fully for the coming appearance awaiting her.

I was asked to meet and talk with the young singer, to ascertain her manner of study, and some of her ideas regarding the work which lay before her.

* * * * *

"It was always my dream to sing at the Metropolitan, and my dream has come true."

Claudia Muzio said the words with her brilliant smile, as her great soft dark eyes gazed luminously at the visitor.

The day was cold and dreary without, but the singer's apartment was of tropical warmth. A great bowl of violets on the piano exhaled delicious fragrance; the young Italian in the bloom of her oriental beauty, seemed like some luxuriant tropical blossom herself.

Claudia Muzio, who was just about to take her place among the personnel of the Metropolitan, is truly to the manner born,--a real child of the opera. She has lived in opera all her life, has imbibed the operatic atmosphere from her earliest remembrance. It must be as necessary for a singer who aspires to fill a high place in this field of artistic endeavor, to live amid congenial surroundings, as for a pianist, violinist or composer to be environed by musical influences.

"Yes, I am an Italian," she began, "for I was born in Italy; but when I was two years old I was taken to London, and my childhood was passed in that great city. My father was stage manager at Covent Garden, and has also held the same post at the Manhattan and Metropolitan Opera Houses in New York. So I have grown up in the theater. I have always listened to opera--daily, and my childish imagination was fired by seeing the art of the great singers. I always hoped I should one day become a singer, so I always watched the artists in action, noting how they did everything. As a result, I do not now have to study acting as a separate branch of the work, for acting comes to me naturally. I am very temperamental; I feel intuitively how the rôle should be enacted.

"All tiny children learn to sing little songs, and I was no exception. I acquired quite a number, and at the age of six, exhibited my accomplishments at a little recital. But I never had singing lessons until I began to study seriously at about the age of sixteen. Although I did not study the voice till I reached that age, I was always occupied with music, for I learned as a little girl to play both harp and piano.

"We lived in London, of which city I am very fond, from the time I was two, till I was fourteen, then we came to America. After residing here a couple of years, it was decided I should make a career, and we went to Italy. I was taken to Madame Anna Casaloni at Turino. She was quite elderly at that time, but she had been a great singer. When she tried my voice, she told me it was quite properly placed--so I had none of that drudgery to go through.

"At first my voice was a very light soprano, hardly yet a coloratura. It became so a little later, however, and then gradually developed into a dramatic soprano. I am very happy about this fact, for I love to portray tears as well as laughter--sorrow and tragedy as well as lightness and gayety. The coloratura manner of singing is all delicacy and lightness, and one cannot express deep emotion in this way.

"We subsequently went to Milano, where I studied with Madame Viviani, a soprano who had enjoyed great success on the operatic stage.

"After several years of serious study I was ready to begin my career. So I sang in Milan and other Italian cities, then at Covent Garden, and now I am in the Metropolitan. In Italy I created the rôle of Fiora in _Amore del tre Re_, and sang with Ferrari-Fontana. I also created Francesca in _Francesca da Rimini_, under its composer, Zandonai. I have a repertoire of about thirty operas, and am of course adding to it constantly, as one must know many more than thirty rôles. Since coming to New York, I have learned _Aïda_, which I did not know before, and have already appeared in it. It was learned thoroughly in eight days. Now I am at work on _Madame Butterfly_.

TECHNICAL PRACTICE

"I work regularly every morning on vocal technic. Not necessarily a whole hour at a stretch, as some do; but as much time as I feel I need. I give practically my whole day to study, so that I can make frequent short pauses in technical practice. If technic is studied with complete concentration and vigor, as it always should be, it is much more fatiguing than singing an opera rôle.

"You ask about the special forms of exercises I use. I sing all the scales, one octave each--once slow and once fast--all in one breath. Then I sing triplets on each tone, as many as I can in one breath. I can sing about fifteen now, but I shall doubtless increase the number. For all these I use full power of tone. Another form of exercise is to take one tone softly, then go to the octave above, which tone is also sung softly, but there is a large crescendo made between the two soft tones. My compass is three octaves--from C below middle C, to two octaves above that point. I also have C sharp, but I do not practice it, for I know I can reach it if I need it, and I save my voice. Neither do I work on the final tones of the lowest octave, for the same reason--to preserve the voice.

BREATH CONTROL

"Every singer knows how important is the management of the breath. I always hold the chest up, taking as long breaths as I can conveniently do. The power to hold the breath, and sing more and more tones with one breath, grows with careful, intelligent practice. There are no rules about the number of phrases you can sing with a single breath. A teacher will tell you; if you can sing two phrases with one breath, do so; if not, take breath between. It all rests with the singer.

MEMORIZING

"I learn words and music of a rôle at the same time, for one helps the other. When I have mastered a rôle, I know it absolutely, words, music and accompaniment. I can always play my accompaniments, for I understand the piano. I am always at work on repertoire, even at night. I don't seem to need very much sleep, I think, and I often memorize during the night; that is such a good time to work, for all is so quiet and still. I lie awake thinking of the music, and in this way I learn it. Or, perhaps it learns itself. For when I retire the music is not yet mastered, not yet my own, but when morning comes I really know it.

"Of course I must know the words with great exactness, especially in songs. I shall do English songs in my coming song recital work, and the words and diction must be perfect, or people will criticize my English. I always write out the words of my rôles, so as to be sure I understand them and have them correctly memorized.

KEEPING UP REPERTOIRE

"Most singers, I believe, need a couple of days--sometimes longer--in which to review a rôle. I never use the notes or score when going over a part in which I have appeared, for I know them absolutely, so there is no occasion to use the notes. Other singers appear frequently at rehearsal with their books, but I never take mine. My intimate knowledge of score, when I assisted my father in taking charge of operatic scores, is always a great help to me. I used to take charge of all the scores for him, and knew all the cuts, changes and just how they were to be used. The singers themselves often came to me for stage directions about their parts, knowing I had this experience.

"Yes, as you suggest, I could sing here in winter, then in South America in summer." (Miss Muzio accomplished this recently, with distinguished success and had many thrilling adventures incident to travel.) "This would mean I would have no summer at all, for that season with them is colder than we have it here. No, I want my summer for rest and study. During the season at the Metropolitan I give up everything for my art. I refuse all society and the many invitations I receive to be guest of honor here and there. I remain quietly at home, steadfastly at work. My art means everything to me, and I must keep myself in the best condition possible, to be ready when the call comes to sing. One cannot do both, you know; art and society do not mix well. I have never disappointed an audience; it would be a great calamity to be obliged to do so."

XVII

=EDWARD JOHNSON=

(=EDOUARDO DI GIOVANNI=)

THE EVOLUTON OF AN OPERA STAR

The story of Edward Johnson's musical development should prove an incentive, nay more, a beacon light along the path of consistent progress toward the goal of vocal and operatic achievement. Indeed as a tiny child he must have had the desire to become a singer. A friend speaks of musical proclivities which began to show themselves at an early age, and describes visits of the child to their home, where, in a little Lord Fauntleroy suit, he would stand up before them all and sing a whole recital of little songs, to the delight of all his relatives. The singer's progress, from the musical child on and up to that of an operatic artist, has been rational and healthy, with nothing hectic or overwrought about it; a constant, gradual ascent of the mountain. And while an enviable vantage ground has been reached, such an artist must feel there are yet other heights to conquer. For even excellence, already achieved, requires constant effort to be held at high water mark. And the desire for greater perfection, which every true artist must feel, is a never-ending urge to continued struggle.

In a recent conversation with the tenor, Mr. Johnson spoke of early days, when he desired above everything else to become a musician and follow a musical career, though his family expected him to enter the business world. He came to New York to look the ground over, hoping there might be opportunity to continue his studies and make his way at the same time. He was fortunate enough to secure a church position, and sang subsequently in some of the best New York and Brooklyn churches. After this period he did much concert work, touring through the Middle West with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and singing in many Music Festivals throughout the country.

But church and concert singing did not entirely satisfy; he longed to try his hand at opera,--in short to make an operatic career. He was well aware that he would not find this field nor gain the necessary experience in America; he must go to Italy, the land of song, to gain the required training and experience. He was also fully aware of the fact that there was plenty of hard work, and probably many disappointments before him, but he did not shrink from either.

"Fortunately, I have a fund of humor," he said, and there was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. "It is a saving grace, as you say; without it I believe I should have many times given up in sheer despair."

Mr. Johnson went to Italy in 1909, beginning at once his studies with Lombardi, in Florence. In the ten years of his absence from his home land he has built up a reputation and made a career in the great operatic centers of Italy, Spain and South America. After his début in Padua, he became leading tenor at La Scala, Milan, for five consecutive seasons. In Rome he spent four seasons at the Costanzi Theater, in the meantime making two visits to the Colon Theater, Buenos Aires, and filling engagements in Madrid, Bologna, Florence and Genoa.

"How could I stay away from America for such a length of time? you ask. For various reasons. I was getting what I had come to Italy for, experience and reputation. I was comfortable and happy in my work. I loved the beautiful country, and the life suited me. The people were kind. I had my own home in Florence, which is still there and to which I can return when my season is over here. Best of all I had the opportunity of creating all the new tenor rôles in the recent operas of Puccini, Montemezzi, Pizzetti and Gratico. I also created the rôle of _Parsifal_ in Italian, and the first season at La Scala, it was performed twenty-seven times."

"With your permission let us go a little into detail in regard to the needs of the young singer and his method of study, so that he may acquire vocal mastery. What do you consider the most important and necessary subject for the young singer, or any one who wishes to enter the profession, to consider?"

"A musical education," was the prompt, unhesitating reply. "So many think if they have a good natural voice and take singing lessons, that is quite sufficient; they will soon become singers. But a singer should also be a musician. He should learn the piano by all means and have some knowledge of theory and harmony. These subjects will be of the greatest benefit in developing his musicianship; indeed he cannot well get on without them. A beautiful voice with little musical education, is not of as much value to its possessor as one not so beautiful, which has been well trained and is coupled with solid musical attainments.

A MUSICAL CAREER

"If one goes in for a musical career, one should realize at the start, something of what it means, what is involved, and what must go with it. Singing itself is only a part, perhaps even the smaller part, of one's equipment. If opera be the goal, there are languages, acting, make up, impersonation, interpretation, how to walk, how to carry oneself, all to be added to the piano and harmony we have already spoken of. The art of the singer is a profession--yes, and a business too. You prepare yourself to fill a public demand; you must prove yourself worthy, you must come up to the standard, or there will not be a demand for what you have to offer. And it is right this should be so. We should be willing to look the situation fairly in the eye, divesting it of all those rose colored dreams and fancies; then we should get right down to work.

NOT MANY RULES

"If you get right down to the bottom, there are in reality not so many singing rules to learn. You sing on the five vowels, and when you can do them loudly, softly, and with mezzo voce, you have a foundation upon which to build vocal mastery. And yet some people study eight, ten years without really laying the foundation. Why should it take the singer such a long time to master the material of his equipment? A lawyer or doctor, after leaving college, devotes three or four years only to preparing himself for his profession, receives his diploma, then sets up in business. It ought not to be so much more difficult to learn to sing than to learn these other professions.

THE EAR

"Of course the ear is the most important factor, our greatest ally. It helps us imitate. Imitation forms a large part of our study. We hear a beautiful tone; we try to imitate it; we try in various ways, with various placements, until we succeed in producing the sound we have been seeking. Then we endeavor to remember the sensations experienced in order that we may repeat the tone at will. So you see Listening, Imitation and Memory are very important factors in the student's development.

BEL CANTO

"I have just spoken of a beautiful tone. The old Italian operas cultivate the _bel canto_, that is--beautiful singing. Of course it is well for the singer to cultivate this first of all, for it is excellent, and necessary for the voice. But modern Italian opera portrays the real men and women of to-day, who live, enjoy, suffer, are angry and repentant. _Bel canto_ will not express these emotions. When a man is jealous or in a rage, he will not stand quietly in the middle of the stage and sing beautiful tones. He does not think of beautiful tones at all. Hatred and jealousy should be expressed in the voice as well as in action and gesture; they are far from lovely in themselves, and to be natural and true to life, they will not make lovely tones in the voice. We want singing actors to-day, men and women who can adequately portray the characters they impersonate through both voice and action.

LEARNING A RÔLE

"In taking up a new part I vocalize the theme first, to get an idea of the music; then I learn the words. After this I work with the accompanist who comes to me every morning. Of course, besides this, I do daily vocalizes and vocal exercises; one must always keep up one's vocal technic.

"But learning words and music is only a part of the work to be done on a rôle. It must then be interpreted; more than this it must be visualized. This part of the work rests largely with the singer, and gives opportunity for his individuality to assert itself. Of course the general idea of the characterization is given us, the make-up, posturing and so on. To work out these ideas, to make the part our own, to feel at home in it, so that it shall not seem like acting, but appear perfectly natural--all this takes a great deal of thought, time and study. It is all a mental process, as every one knows; we must project our thought out to the audience, we must 'get it over,' or it will never strike fire!"

INTERPRETATION